I'm Very Upset That I Didn't Get His Club Card...

Love her 🧡🧡

Mirko illustration by Kohei Horikoshi (x)

🎉🛐

Going insane lately idk

🪰🪱

rotting from the inside

I just saw Azul's club card and had a Thought.

I thought of putting Ruggie in the top one, but I think he'd fight like trying to get an angry cat in a carrier. It would be a losing battle.

Meeting the Parents 🦐

💭 “our son’s description was accurate!”

🎉🧡

CW: gore!!

decided to redraw that one panel of my bbgirl getting melted ❤️

og panel:

Its Tomura's birthday in Japan today!!

Hooray

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Gamer boyfriend

Shigaraki x fem reader

Warnings: mentions of sex and swearing

Shigaraki was in a good mood today—or at least what passed for one with him. He went from his usual 80% dickhead to maybe 25%. The bar wasn’t high, but hey, I’d take it.

I found him in his room, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of his TV. He had his headset on, practically glued to his head, and his attention was locked onto some violent shooter game. He was yelling—no, swearing—at whoever was on the other end of that connection. Judging by the squeaky voices I could hear leaking through his headset, it was probably a group of kids who didn’t even hit puberty yet.

“Fucking useless!” he barked, his red eyes narrowing at the screen. “Do you even know what a headshot is? Jesus Christ, this is ranked, you little shits!”

I stepped into the room quietly, half-wondering if he’d notice me, but he didn’t even glance up. There was a pile of empty candy wrappers and crushed energy drink cans surrounding him, like some kind of gremlin nest. He had his gloves on, the special ones that left his ring finger and pinky covered so he didn’t destroy everything he touched, but it didn’t seem to make him any less intense.

I sat down on his bed without saying a word, folding my legs under me and leaning back against the wall. It was... fascinating, honestly, watching him like this. His white hair stuck out in all directions, soft and messy, and his posture was slouched but tense. The way he glared at the screen, like his life depended on winning, was kind of adorable—in a chaotic, slightly terrifying way.

“Nice fucking try!” he yelled again, his voice sharp and gravelly. “Are you blind, or just stupid? God, what are you, twelve?”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that they probably were twelve. Instead, I stayed quiet, watching him with a small, amused smile. He didn’t need me to jump in, and I wasn’t going to ruin his “good mood” by nagging him about the literal garbage pile he was sitting in.

He shifted forward suddenly, leaning closer to the screen as if that would help. His long fingers tightened on the controller, his knuckles almost white. “I swear to God, if one more of you little shits camps the spawn point, I’m—”

He didn’t finish the threat, but whatever he was planning, it wasn’t good.

I bit back a laugh, resting my chin on my knee. It was just... so him. Completely absorbed in his game, fully prepared to verbally eviscerate some kids for being bad at it. And the way he was sitting, cross-legged with his back hunched and his hair falling in his face, made him look like some kind of pale, pissed-off cat.

The wrappers crinkled as he shifted again, and I mentally counted the empty energy drink cans. Five. No, wait, six. His poor heart.

I thought about saying something—maybe a casual, “Hey, Tomura, ever heard of water?”—but honestly, I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

Instead, I just sat there and watched him, letting him do his thing. It was... kind of nice, actually, seeing him so into something that wasn’t murder or destruction. He looked weirdly peaceful, in a chaotic way.

And maybe, just maybe, a part of me found it a little cute. But I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

I couldn’t help it—I let out a giggle. It just slipped out, quiet and soft, but enough to catch his attention. To my surprise, he actually turned around to look at me.

There was something... different about the way he looked at me, though. He still had that irritated edge, but beneath it was something weirdly lighter, softer. Happier. Well, as happy as Tomura Shigaraki could look without spontaneously combusting from emotional vulnerability.

His red eyes flicked between me and the screen, like he was weighing his options. Meanwhile, he still had his mic on, so the obscenities didn’t stop. “Spawn camping again? Are you brain-dead, or just naturally this fucking useless?” he growled at some poor kid. But then, whenever his eyes landed on me, his expression shifted. His usual scowl melted into something disturbingly... friendly. For him, anyway.

I blinked at him, unsure what to make of it, until he shifted slightly. He uncrossed his legs, creating just enough space on his lap, and then mouthed silently, “Come sit on my lap.”

I froze, staring at him like he’d just asked me to slap him across the face. What?

He didn’t repeat himself out loud, but his expression sharpened. He gave me that look—the one that said, Don’t make me fucking ask again.

Still confused, I tilted my head at him. Normally, he wasn’t... this affectionate. At least not so randomly. He’d cling, sure, but this? This was a whole new level.

His red eyes narrowed, and his gloved hand tapped the floor impatiently. Hurry up, his gaze practically screamed.

I hesitated for another second, torn between laughing at how bizarre this was and actually doing what he wanted. Eventually, curiosity won out, and I slid off the bed to make my way toward him.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder: What the hell has gotten into him?

I got up, and Tomura shifted his controller to one hand, making just enough room for me. Without hesitation, I slid onto his lap, wrapping myself around him koala bear style. My legs draped slightly over his waist, and I buried my face into his neck, inhaling the faint mix of cologne (a poor substitute for a shower, as usual) and candy.

He barely reacted to my presence, other than to adjust slightly, resting his chin on top of my head. The side of my face pressed against his throat, and I could feel the vibrations of his voice as he continued his tirade.

“Fuck this—fucking campers again? Are you idiots physically incapable of playing fair?” His voice was a growl, sharp and cutting, laced with venom. “Go crawl back into your mother’s basement, you loser. Fucking embarrassing. How old are you, twelve?”

I cozied up closer to him, nuzzling my head against his neck, letting my hair brush against his skin. My arms tightened around his waist, squeezing him just below his ribs. He shifted slightly, his free arm now lightly draped over my back as if to keep me there, all while he kept the profanity flowing.

“Of course you’re hiding behind a wall. That’s all you fucking know how to do, huh? Pathetic. No wonder your mom doesn’t fucking love you.”

His voice was a mix of irritation and amusement, and I couldn’t help but smile against his neck. He was so ridiculously into it, as if demolishing kids online was his personal mission.

“Nice fucking try, dumbass. Did you think that’d work? God, you’re stupid. I bet your dad left just so he wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore.”

Despite the relentless swearing, his grip on me softened, as if my presence grounded him, even in his little digital war. I rubbed my cheek against his neck again, feeling the warmth of his rough skin.

He was so absurd, so unapologetically himself, that I couldn’t help but find it... endearing. In the strangest way possible.

Tomura reached for one of the six energy drink cans scattered around him, picking the one that was still half-full with one hand while the other continued navigating the game with almost surgical precision. He tilted the can back, taking a long sip, completely unfazed that his mic was still on and broadcasting the sound of his gulps to the kids on the other side.

Then, without skipping a beat, he tapped the side of my head with the cold can. I looked up at him, shaking my head with a small smile, silently saying, No, thank you.

His red eyes narrowed slightly, and he huffed. “Come on, babe, drink some. It’s yummy,” he said out loud, voice dripping with mock encouragement. I shot him a look, and he scowled right back at me. “It’s good for you.”

“Good for you?” I scoffed. “That stuff’s gonna make your heart explode.”

He rolled his eyes, groaning. “Whatever. Someone’s gotta drink it.” He then shifted slightly, still somehow playing the game, his focus unwavering as he tried a different approach. “Come on, open up,” he said, leaning the can closer to my mouth and making an exaggerated “Aaaaahhh!” noise, like he was feeding a toddler.

I hesitated, narrowing my eyes at him. “Fine, but just a sip,” I muttered. He tipped the can toward me, and the instant the liquid hit my tongue, I winced. It was like drinking carbonated battery acid.

“Ugh! Yuck!” I grimaced, pulling back quickly.

“Yeah yeah,” he said with a shrug, taking another swig. “Your loss.”

That’s when one of the kids on the other side of the mic piped up, voice cracking with curiosity. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”

Tomura didn't even bat an eye at the gasps from the kids on the other end of the mic. "Oh, my girlfriend," he replied coolly, his voice dripping with disdain. "Not that any of you celibate incel losers would know what that’s like."

I couldn't help but giggle at his bluntness. "Tomura, be nice to the children," I teased, though I knew it wouldn't change anything.

He smirked, his eyes still glued to the screen as he blasted through his game. "No, babe. They're fucking losers who camp. No matter how many times I've told them not to. I mean, come on, babe, these kids are probably all failed abortions."

I could hear the shocked gasps on the other side of the mic, and I quickly put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "Be nice, baby," I said, my voice light and teasing.

Tomura barely acknowledged it, just rolling his eyes. "No, I don't think I will. Someone’s gotta teach these losers that their generation is all a bunch of iPad, Cheeto-fingered fuckers who probably want their mom."

The sheer absurdity of his words made me burst into laughter. I couldn't hold it in anymore, my sides shaking with how funny it was.

I leaned in to kiss the side of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my lips. He turned his head slightly, planting a quick, almost absent-minded kiss on my cheek.

“Stop laughing,” he muttered, though his lips were curled into a smile—something he’d never admit.

I felt a little bolder, the playful urge rising in me. I couldn't resist the temptation to tease him a bit. Slowly, I slipped my hands under his hoodie and pressed them against his side, just lightly at first, before digging in with a quick tickle.

"HEY! Wait—HEY! HEY!" Tomura jolted, the game momentarily forgotten. I could feel him squirming under my touch, his voice going high-pitched for a second in surprise.

I smirked but pulled my hands back slightly, stopping when I saw the glint in his eyes. He wasn’t really angry... maybe just a little annoyed.

"I’ll stop," I said, keeping my hands underneath his shirt now, my fingertips gently tracing up and down his back, the hard lines of his muscles shifting under my touch.

His jaw clenched briefly, and I could feel him getting tense again, but then, to my surprise, he leaned into me, his face pressing gently against the side of my head.

"Just so you guys know," he said loud enough for the mic to catch it, his voice dripping with that smug confidence. "My girlfriend’s feeling up on me right now—something none of you lame bitch-ass losers will ever experience."

There was an uncomfortable silence from the kids on the other end of the mic, probably processing his words. Meanwhile, Tomura’s hands paused on his controller for a split second, like he was savoring the moment.

He nuzzled into me again, a quiet sound escaping his throat that was so rare from him—something close to affection but hidden under that usual mask of indifference. "Yeah, none of you punks are gonna get to to get touched like this. fucking losers.," he added more softly, his voice slightly more tender than before, though still carrying that mocking tone.

I couldn’t help but smile, rubbing my thumb lightly across his back, letting him know without words that I wasn’t bothered by his cocky attitude—if anything, I liked how he acted like a prick, but I knew better than anyone there was more under the surface.

As if to emphasize his point, he turned his head just slightly, pressing his lips to my temple before pulling back just enough to give me that familiar smirk. "You know I don’t need any of you assholes to back me up. You bitches are all dead wait."

And as much as he tried to act unaffected by the gesture, I knew, deep down, that he appreciated the closeness—more than he'd ever admit.

Not my fan art!

Tag list (let me know if you wanna go on it)

@itsafairytalekay @starlightanyaaa @sillysushi @haruhatake @canigotosleep--plz @mistymuii @moonchhu @dekusdante @eis1kitsune @yumii-34 @anemo-fandango @tibibibi123 @hargun-s

I’d like to know what everyone thinks 🥹🫶🏻