#allhead

—–- Singed + Silco (Arcane): I'm actually so new to this ship, but my brain suddenly decided to hyperfixate on Singed, and Silco was already one of my favorites too, so just... dubiously united villain couple hello??

The fan fics I've read of them so far are delicious as fuck, and the artwork I've seen is juuuust amazing. Wholesome stuff, dark stuff. I love it all.

And I love the idea of Powder occasionally interacting with Singed, and like he's not really her dad (he's Viktor's heh), but he's still a second wise adult figure in her life, and he uses his thorough understanding of what makes Silco tick to help Powder with communicating with him (or hiding certain little things from him huehue).

Singed is the only character that Silco is never once seen so much as manipulating, let alone intimidating or threatening. I like to think Silco knows that Singed is kind of in a league of his own, and that if he tried to boss him around in the wrong way, Singed could very easily end him in his sleep. Or worse. :3

Though I don't think they hold any animosity towards each other. I don't see it as a very tense relationship. If anything, I like to imagine that they care about each other in some sort of way. Sure, it's partially because Silco provides the space, funds, and test subjects while Singed provides vital medical help and, well, Shimmer. But I'm a sap, so maybe there's a slight bit more there, I dunno!

—–- Misaka + Kuroko (A Certain Scientific Railgun): Listen. Surgically remove Kuroko's... egh, Problem. And you have an utterly gorgeous relationship.

OR, at the very least, actually do something with her obsessive nature! Tell a real story with it. I literally went through a similar (not sexual) thing in real life, and I have told the story of how I overcame it. I would ADORE seeing Kuroko remain problematic, but then grow past it, and learn to respect Misaka fully.

But if noooot... there's always the option to just get rid of it entirely because holy shit is Kuroko's admiration and trust in Misaka beautiful. The way Kuroko lays down her life for her, appears in an instant to aid her, forces herself not to pester her for days and weeks despite agonizing over whether Misaka is okay... The way she takes pride and comfort in doing those things for her, how she calls out her name lovingly while fighting for her. It touches my heart so much, man.

And Misaka, despite how often Kuroko annoys her, knows she can rely on her and be vulnerable around her. She values Kuroko's thoughts and cares how she feels about her, past all that Level 5 "Ace of Tokiwadai" stuff. She's protective of all her friends, of course, but I always imagine that she holds herself double responsible for Kuroko's safety. She's who she thinks of first, every time. Misaka recognizes when Kuroko is pushing herself too hard, and she softens in such a genuine, nurturing way to assure her that she can rest easy.

The level of dedication these two have for each other is wonderful, and how could I not ship them?

—–- Aizawa + Toshinori (My Hero Academia): Honestly, I like a lot of MHA ships, but this was my first OTP for that series, and it's simply because despite having a very prickly start, their relationship grows into this very gentle mutual respect and protectiveness of one another, and it's just... so cute! And it hurts me so much.

I've read a lot of fics, written a lot of roleplays, seen a lot of art, and watched a lot of AMVs. I feel such a deep heart-throbbing when I see them together. Caring, protecting, sacrificing, mourning, fighting, regretting, saving, comforting....

Sometimes I don't even know how to describe it, but I have cried over these two so many times. I want them to be happy. I want to see them suffer on the way there. I want them to recognize their own inner demons when they look into the other's eyes, and then commit to being better because of each other. I've seen them through every AU I could think of within—god, however many years I was in love with them. And I can still remember why.

—–- Rouxls Kaard + Spade King (Deltarune): So I find both of these characters unfairly attractive in many fanarts, and they are one of my favorite mutually toxic relationships.

I credit one of my friends and his amazing unfinished series about them for the way I now envision them and how they interact. Spade could likely be called abusive simply due to his violent nature and power over Rouxls (both physical and social), but Rouxls is a manipulative, lying little weasel who is using Spade as much as Spade is using him.

Neither one of them have a damn clue how to treat another person right, though they both try and succeed (more often than not) with Lancer. Perhaps it's his innocence in all this, but unlike their terrible, broken relationship with each other, their relationships with Lancer are actually strong and outwardly loving.

Spade isn't nearly as aggressive with him as everyone else, he does what he thinks will make his son happy, and while he may sometimes be clipped, he isn't dismissive. Meanwhile, Rouxls tells himself Lancer is not his son and shouldn't be his responsibility, but dammit he loves the kid anyway! Lancer's smile brightens his day, and Rouxls will even risk getting himself in trouble with the king in order to give Lancer happiness. He puts off his own wants for him, does what he can to comfort him when he's sad, and frets QUITE heavily about his safety (albeit that one has a double-motive—obviously the king would kill his dumb ass if Lancer got hurt under his watch, but that's beside the point, he sayeth!)

Anyway yeah, Dad and Lesser Dad plz.

I can't overstate how much I love seeing fiction depict complex, nuanced relationships with plenty of toxic elements to examine. It's a way to relate some of their traits to my past mistakes, or even my current flaws. It helps me understand myself better. Also it's hot! x3

And really wholesome if the characters manage to actually improve themselves and start showing real affection and care for each other.

Last Song:

Gomenne Gomenne by Kikuo (My favorite versions are sung by Teto and Kyo V3)

Currently Reading:

Started reading Singed-centric fan fiction, including an adorable fic where Powder shows him her Minecraft world, a dark one where he tortures a test subject, and a delightfully tense one where Silco demands to be burned.

Last Movie:

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves.

It was actually a genuinely awesome time and I didn't expect it to keep my attention like it did. Great mix of funny and serious! I enjoyed it a lot!

Craving:

Need Singed torture fics or roleplays,,,, I'm offering up my Kib for the slaughter lmao.

Shouta grunts as Hizashi drops onto the barstool besides him, tossing his body weight around more than usual thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol he’s downed in the last few hours. It’s only Shouta’s mostly-sober status that keeps them upright on the barstools.

“Get off me.”

“Drinking was supposed to chill you out Sho,” Hizashi slurs against his back.

“I’m not drunk.”

“Well why the hell not?”

Shouta turns as much as he can to send a glare over his shoulder. “Someone needs to keep an eye on you idiots.”

Hizashi, despite appearing about five minutes away from passing out on the bar, has the presence of mind to sit up slightly, wagging his brows suggestively. “Keep an eye on who, exactly? Because I’m definitely not the blond you’ve been eyeing all night.”

Shouta looks instinctively across the room before he can remind himself of what a terrible idea it is to give Hizashi any ammo.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hizashi laughs, loud enough to pull a few looks from the patrons around them at the bar, but those on the dance floor easily ignore the outburst. Everyone on the dance floor, including Toshinori. The tall man towers over most of the crowd but even through the thick throngs of people, Shouta can tell he’s dancing with someone and has been dancing with someone for most of the night.

“Just admit you wish you were the one getting up close and personal with the big guy on the dance floor and this night can get a lot better for everyone.”

Shouta seriously considers pushing Hizashi off the bar stool entirely, but it feels like too much of a reaction and then he would definitely never be left alone until he admitted to something. Not to mention listening to Hizashi’s whining about being pushed, let alone pushed to a filthy bar floor, would be exasperating.

“I’m just keeping an eye on him to make sure nothing happens.”

Hizashi laughs again, draping himself back over Shouta’s shoulders. “He’s the symbol of peace, I think he can handle himself if anyone gets a little too rowdy on the dance floor.”

“He regularly spits up blood on a good day, and now he’s already had at least one round, despite lacking a stomach.”

Hizashi rolls his eyes. “He barely touched his drink, stop being such a mother hen.”

Before Shouta can come up with a reply, Nemuri extracts herself from the crowd on the floor to join them – or more accurately find someone else to dance with. Hizashi, a more than happy and willing sacrifice, saves Shouta from her begging. If she was about two drinks less drunk that probably wouldn’t have worked, but for now the two stumbling idiots are happy to fall over each other on their way to the dance floor, slipping back into the throng of moving bodies and easily forgetting their stationary friend.

Shouta follows their movements for as long as he can, but they quickly get swallowed up by the shifting crowd. His eyes follow the moving people, unconsciously following the path right back to Toshinori. The blond is dressed in a criminally tight button up for the evening with the first few buttons open. It shows more of his thinned out frame than he usually likes, but Shouta can only appreciate how much it accentuates his still-broad shoulders and the severe taper into his thin waist and powerful hips. Unfortunately, since most of the surrounding population is not blind and most about three sheets to the wind and have lost most of their inhibitions, they have all also come to appreciate Toshinori’s form, and the skilled way he still moves his body.

Toshinori looks up from his latest dance partner, as if sensing Shouta watching him, and immediately meets his eye from across the room. Even from this distance, there is something captivating and dangerous in those dark blue eyes. Shouta grabs his drink from the bar, downing what’s left in a single swig. When he turns around, Toshinori has moved, but it only takes a moment for Shouta to find him, staying on the fringes of the crowd, still watching Shouta.

Shouta slides off the bar stool, thankful he doesn’t stumble or sway getting back on his feet. He stalks across the room, not entirely sure what he’s doing even as he’s aware he’s making a beeline for Toshinori.

The closer he gets, the more debauched Toshinori looks. His already wild blond hair is in further disarray, the shirt that was most definitely tucked into his pants at the start of the night is untucked and wrinkled at the bottom from the hands that had to have had part in pulling it up. More than the first few buttons of his shirt are undone, as well as a few at the bottom.

“Having fun?” Toshinori asks as Shouta approaches him, a teasing glint in his eyes, as if he has any idea exactly how devious he looks disheveled like this.

“It looks like someone was,” Shouta grabs the collar of his shirt, pointlessly straightening it.

“It was just dancing,” Toshinori says easily.

“Seems a little handsy for dancing,”

The light in Toshinoir’s eyes only seems to grow as he watches Shouta. “I seem to remember someone else enjoying being handsy when we danced.”

“That was once,” Shouta says. He hates how much he wants Toshinori to touch him right now and how pointed it seems that Toshinori is keeping his hands at his side while Shouta straightens his clothes.

Toshinori smiles placidly. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Shouta’s self control fraying as the seconds pass he pushes closer into Toshinori’s space, stupidly pleased at how the blond doesn’t move back. “Are you asking for something? Why don’t you actually use your words.”

Toshinori grabs him, suddenly, finally, his hands so large and so hot even through the layer of Shouta’s shirt. “Fine. Let’s stop pretending we’re just here as friends to let loose when we both know we’ll be ending up in your bed at the end of this.”

Shouta shoves even closer, pushing Toshinori until his back hits the wall. Reaching up, he buries his hands in those wild blond locks, pulling Toshinori down for a bruising kiss. Toshinori squeezes him tighter before one hand trails up to Shouta’s own hair, musing the loose bun he has it in and responding to the kiss with fervor. Shouta bites at his bottom lip, the gasp Shouta feels more than hears forcing his mouth open further.

Shouta licks at Toshinori’s lip, already feeling swollen from his harsh treatment, as he pulls back for a breath.

“Sorry, that was a little hard.”

Toshinori’s tongue darts out to soothe the bite as well, keeping Shouta close enough that his warm breath falls across his flushed skin. “Don’t apologize.”

“With an attitude like that, no wonder they were getting handsy on the dance floor.”

Toshinori leans down for another kiss and Shouta easily gives in, running his other hand across his chest. He hits bare skin, the open buttons leaving little in his way, and tugs at the collar to pull his shirt open even more. Breaking the kiss Shouta bites at Toshinori’s sharp jaw, soothing the nip with another kiss and trailing down his elegant neck with similar love bites. The music is so loud he thinks he has to be imaging the deep moan that comes from Toshinori but it goes to his head anyways.

“Maybe I was just doing it to make you jealous.”

Shouta bites at his collar, harsher than before, but Toshinori doesn’t even flinch, only tightens his hold on Shouta’s hair and tilts his head to give him better access. “I’m not jealous,” Shouta mutters.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be leaving marks,” Toshinori suggests in a too-easy voice. It’s a challenge if Shouta has ever heard one.

Renewed motivation, Shouta returns to his ministrations. He finds a sensitive spot, the juncture of his throat and shoulder, where even just a light kiss has Toshinori writhing against him and he can’t help himself. Toshinori’s hips thrust against him inadvertently, and even through their jeans his arousal is obvious, straining the impossibly tight pants he’s squeezed himself into for the night. Shouta lets got of Toshinori’s shirt to trail his hand further down, brushing against the bulge at his hip and Toshinori groans above him.

If pressed later, Shouta would definitely try to blame it on the alcohol, but really he barely had anything and his next move is almost entirely the fault of that very sound and just how good it sounds. Popping open the straining button, Shouta shoves his hand down Toshinori’s jeans. The blond stutters against him, hips thrusting into the touch even as Toshinori gasps.

“What-”

“You’re not wearing any underwear?”

“I didn’t think I’d be in pants this long, honestly.”

Shouta growls against his throat, wrapping a hand around Toshinori’s thick cock, feeling it pulse hot and heavy in his hand. There really is a limited range of motion between how close their bodies are pressed together and the stupidly tight fit of his pants, but he does the best he can. He pumps his hand up and down, the soft velvet drag of skin on skin intoxicating in the heated moment. Toshinori’s muffled groans against his ear egging him on.

“What-what the hell are you doing?”

“Making it up to you for forcing you to stay in these pants for so long,” Shouta replies with a nonchalance he doesn’t feel. His own jeans are uncomfortably tight and he knows there is no way Toshinori is not also extremely aware of the erection rubbing against his thigh.

Shouta twists his hand in such a way that Toshinori tosses his head back with a harsh curse. His hands find Shouta’s hips with a bruising grip, pulling him impossibly closer. He widens his stance, just slightly, but it gives Shouta more room to move his hand. He responds to the silent invitation, stroking the full length of Toshinori offered to him. His other hand pulls Toshinori’s head down for another kiss. The man’s heady scent surrounding him, his taste in his mouth, is more intoxicating than any drink Shouta’s had. And when he comes just from Shouta’s hand, moaning his name against his lips, Shouta thinks its something he could become addicted to.

Before he can even ask, Toshinori reaches into one of his front pockets, producing a plain handkerchief and offering it to Shouta for his hand. Shouta takes it with a huff.

“Take that smug look off your face.”

“Oh I’m far too satisfied for that,” Toshinori replies with an almost dreamy look. But there’s still something dangerous in the lidded look he has as he watched Shouta tuck him back into his jeans and button them back up.

Shouta shoves the soiled handkerchief into his own pocket. He’s not sure if he’s thinking more of his own neglected erection or just pulling more of those sounds from Toshinori as he steps back and says, “Let’s go.”

He turns away, but Toshinori grabs his wrist, turning him back around. Shouta stumbles slightly, but Toshinori catches him easily, one powerful thigh ending between Shouta’s own, his other hand sliding to cup his ass. Shouta nearly hisses at the drag of Toshinori’s leg between his.

Toshinori holds him in place with a single hand. “Just a moment.”

“What?”

“You can’t walk around like that,” Toshinori says with a pointed look down. “Even if you could handle the…discomfort, people would notice.”

Shouta is torn between wrenching himself out of Toshinori’s hold and grinding against his thigh. “No one is looking at me.”

Toshinori dips his head, licking a hot stripe up Shouta’s neck before reaching his ear with a soft, breathless whisper. “I am.” Using only the hand he still has on Shouta’s ass, he moves him, grinding Shouta’s clothed dick against his own leg. Shouta’s body moves of its own accord, repeating the movement without any further guidance and he groans.

“Don’t worry, I won’t ravish you here in the bar,” Toshinori says stupidly calm compared to the way Shouta’s blood is rushing. “I just want you to be able to get home alright.”

Shouta’s head drops to Toshinori’s shoulder and he considers biting the still exposed skin of this throat, just as revenge. All he can see in his mind’s eye is Toshinori stripping him down and taking him over the bar, other patrons – and their coworkers – be damned.

“Toshinori,” Shouta moans – pleads – against him. “Please, touch me.”

Toshinori’s other hand joins his first behind Shouta, moving him ever so slightly harder but not nearly touching Shouta how he needs. “That would be indecent.”

Shouta almost laughs. “You didn’t seem all that concerned about public decency a few minutes ago.”

Toshinori shrugs easily. “I’ve already been arrested for public indecency. I’m just trying to protect your reputation.”

Ignoring the obvious flaw in Toshinori’s statement, considering they were both active participants, Shouta perhaps even more so, the surprise is enough to freeze his movements. “You were what?”

Toshinori drags him closer, nearly lifting Shouta’s feet off the ground before dragging his hips back down, forcing Shouta to focus again on exactly what Toshinori wants him to focus on. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

His hand goes back to Shouta’s hair, tilting his head for a heated kiss. A moment later Shouta comes in his pants like he’s a goddamn teenager again with no self control, still rutting against Toshinori’s leg.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, but as soon as Shouta’s legs don’t feel like they might give out beneath him, he pulls Toshinori off the wall.

“Go find a taxi because if we’re not home in five minutes, you’ll be ‘ravishing’ me in the nearest alleyway.” Shouta growls, ignoring the fact they’re a minimum ten minute drive from either of their apartments.

All of the kids had certainly gone home by now. Him and Aizawa had been marking their homework for hours. It was tiring but what was more so, was that the two of them had been sitting apart at their separate desks. Aizawa was so far away, quietly marking his pile of papers as if speaking would drain the last of his energy away.

All Might didn't get an answer, not that he particularly expected one. Aizawa was always tired but after a long day of teaching only to then go onto a long night of marking, it was like he hadn't slept in days.

"Aizawa-kun." He called out, finally gaining the other man's attention.

Aizawa hummed, looking at him with sleepy, lidded eyes. His hair was somehow scruffier than usual and his eyes more bloodshot. Even his scarf was loose around his neck, threatening to slip off at any moment.

"Could you come check this one?" All Might asked, pointing at the work in front of him.

With a sigh, Aizawa stood up and sleepily made his way over to All Might's desk. He rubbed the sleep from the corner of his eye and yawned before looking down at the paper.

As his stinging eyes scanned over it, wondering what the older teacher was struggling to mark, he was suddenly pulled down into All Might's lap.

"Toshi." He spoke so softly but there was still a sternness to his voice.

"You're tired Aizawa. Stay here, get some sleep. I'll mark the rest of them."

A small part of him wanted to refuse but he really was tired and so, he simply nodded with a hum. With help from the other, he turned his body around so that he was sitting facing All Might. Then, he rested his head against his shoulder and let his eyes fall closed.

All Might brought a hand up, running it gently through Aizawa's tangled hair as the other man's arms wrapped around his back, holding him lightly as he began to fall asleep.

"Goodnight, Aizawa-kun." All Might smiled before going back to marking the work

As he drifted further into sleep, Aizawa's limbs grew limp and his arms slipped from where they had been hugging the elder until they were simply hanging by his sides.

His soft breathing was so quiet but comforting to the elder, who was determined to finish marking the work as soon as possible to get Aizawa into a comfortable bed.

Every now and then, while he was marking the homework, All Might would unconsciously rub his head against Aizawa's, his cheek pressing lightly against messy hair. After a little while, he wrapped one arm around Aizawa as he slept while the other continued to write away on the papers in front of him.

It was comfortable like this and much preferred compared to sitting at different desks. He always liked to have Aizawa close but moments like this were rare for the two of them. If they weren't teaching, they were out doing hero work. If they weren't doing either of the two, Aizawa was napping and All Might was mentoring Midoriya. It was rare for them to be able to spend time alone but when they did, even if it was just Aizawa napping and using All Might as a pillow, it was time well spent.

Of course, no one else knew of their relationship. Although, both of them had their suspicions. Aizawa had noticed that President Mic and Midnight had definitely seemed to know that something was going on between them. As for Toshinori, well, he had noticed that the kids were surprisingly observant and had at least noticed how their teachers had grown closer in recent weeks. It wasn't clear if any of them knew just how close they were but for now, no one had said anything. Not that it mattered anyway, they only wanted to keep it on the down-low for now.

"Toshi..." Aizawa spoke out in his sleep, his fists coming up to grab at the material of his shirt.

All Might knew what he was saying, he wanted to go home, to get in bed. Officially, they still lived separately but most nights, when Aizawa wasn't working, one would stay with the other.

He finished marking the papers as quickly as he could, glad to finally have it out of the way, and quietly put his pen down before wrapping his arms around Aizawa and climbing to his feet.

Aizawa was still sound asleep as he carried him through the school before finally making his way outside. He seemed to feel the bitterness of the wind and nuzzled his head further into All Might's neck, his cold nose brushing against warm skin.

All Might was always warm, whereas Aizawa more often than not found himself cold. Their feet would touch in bed and a chill would run up the elder's spine but he would only pull the other man closer in response, hoping to warm him to some extent.

"Toshi." Aizawa grumbled, seeming more awake as he pushed his fingers into blonde hair, twisting the locks around.

There was a hum from the elder man as he continued to carry him down the cold street and Aizawa found himself smiling slightly. All Might smiled back upon feeling the curve of lips against his shoulder. Most people found Aizawa's smile scary or at least intimidating, probably as he didn't smile often. All Might, however, loved his smile. It always made him happy to see a smile from him, whether it was genuine or simply a sly smirk. Just seeing any display of emotion other than the usual sad-looking face he showed most was enough to make All Might smile too.

He carried him all the way home, opting for his apartment as he knew it would be cleaner. Aizawa rarely cleaned at home, not that he was ever really at home all that much and when he was he was usually sleeping. All Might usually found himself tidying the place up as Aizawa slept but, at least for tonight, he too just wanted to cuddle up and fall asleep.

After quite a long walk, they were finally home. Aizawa showed no signs of waking up as they entered the warm apartment. In fact, the only sign that he was still alive was the occasional scratch of stubble against Toshinori's shoulder.

Without a word, Aizawa was carefully placed into bed. His hair splayed out on the pillow and into his face as he turned over. All Might sighed and pulled the hair away from his face, tucking it back behind his ear as he slept. He soon found himself tracing a finger over the scar across Aizawa's cheek, one of the many scars he had littered over his body. More particularly, one of the scars he obtained at the USJ incident. All Might should have been there. He should have been with them, he should have been able to save Aizawa. Instead, by the time he arrived, Aizawa was already unconscious and covered in blood.

He felt so much guilt for what happened that day but, nonetheless, he still admired Aizawa for protecting the kids. He was ready to give his life to protect them if necessary, a true hero. He just wished he didn't have to give his life for them, if All Might was there like he was supposed to be then maybe he could have prevented the pain Aizawa was caused. There was no point dwelling on the past, that was what he always said and in no way did Toshinori intend to dwell. He just wanted to keep Aizawa safe and to be by his side if something like that ever happened again. At the very least, he wanted to fight by his side.

He leaned in, pressing a light kiss to the scar before pulling the blankets up over him to keep him warm. He just sat there for a moment, at the side of the bed watching him. He looked so peaceful when he slept, so calm. His face was no longer tense, his sore eyes finally resting.

Toshinori brushed the sleeping man's hair again, wiping it away from his face, "I love you so much."

His words were but a whisper, a mumble in the darkness of night, and yet, a hand unexpectedly wrapped around his own, a thumb rubbing smoothly over the back of his hand, "I love you too."