#and the current event is again showing me how next level amazing the events in this game are

[4giorno]

girl this is why i hate playing multiplayer games like this ⚰️

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

It's all bad

So there is a post going around right now about how in Plano Texas, there was a sting operation that caught a sex trafficking ring. Some of the people there were first responders and teachers. However if you look at twitter, and of course on this hell site, there are people who are SO EAGER to suck a drag queens no no bits, they had to go out of their way to post some pretty "lovely" things. Now the reason I'm posting this image, rather than just the article is to prove a point.

We have absolutely zero confirmation about what the user William LeGate said here. None. At best he tried to look up some names, and background checks on those listed. However, on the original post by the DFWPD (Dallas Ft. Worth PD) This article is not even cited. And I looked at the article. You know what WAS listed in the "jobs" let's look:

You know what WASN'T listed? Republican Politician or "Church Leader".

Now let me show you the list of disgusting individuals, which wouldn't you know it, includes a woman.

Now let's do some math shall we. Racial, and political activists will look at this image, and do exactly what they do with is judge every single thing on surface level looks. As shown by these next tweets. (Some of them having prior records)

As you can clearly see, this started a trend of #NotADragQueen and a very old and tired trope of "The church is scarier protect them from that instead of drag queens"

My question to all of you Neo Progressives is this. Why exactly are you so hell bent on bringing up an event that happened over a decade ago?

Better question. Why exactly do you care if no drag queens were VISIBLE? Is it because parents don't think it's appropriate for their kids to be in from of a adult male in exaggerated women clothing. Several of whom have been found to have criminal records of sexual assault and some even against kids? Don't believe me? Let's look shall we.

WOW, if you look at this man's mug shot, YOU'D NEVER KNOW he was a drag queen. TURNS OUT not only was he one, but also is a child sex offender.

But rather than actually care about child sex offenders, which, let's be really fair here, you don't. You'd rather have a gatcha against those, "Evil republicans".

Let me be clear. If you look at all those mugshots? You'll notice something. Varying races and ages. You know what we AREN'T shown? Political leanings of every single person there and who they have and have no voted for. My current annoyance with all of you now, is one very LARGE thing. Rather than being happy that these people have been caught, you are FAR MORE EXCITED at the prospect that this group could contain your political enemies.

HOW F*CKED in the head are you? Really? Predators find positions of power. No matter where the position is. Sometimes they actually get complacent with their power and they begin to lose inhibitions. This should have nothing to do with the church, with drag with dems, or with reps. This SHOULD have everything to do with the fact that it's AMAZING that these assholes have been caught.

Thing is? Most conservatives just don't want drag in front of their kids. That should be their choice. AS THE PARENTS. And we don't actually know the ratio of predators to non predators in the drag community. And until they get arrested and charged, much like any other person, we CAN'T know.

Catholics were SEETHING when they found out what their leadership was doing. However, it was NOT all priests. It was not even most. It was however enough that it caused notice. And that makes sense. You can expect at least 10% of any large group to be not good people. However here is the issue. You are equating an entire group, that at the time was a VERY LARGE population size of the US. Per Capita is a fun thing to talk about. And given the LIMITED number of drag queens in the US you'd expect very very few to be guilty of sex offense. However, we see time and time again that's not the case.

Am I making the argument that drag queens are predators? No. Hell, most conservatives or moderates would not even be prone to making that argument if many of you were not so dead set on having kids see it or be around it. And the level of insistence around it kind of raises red flags if I'm being honest. Also a fun thing missed by that asshole William LeGate from the opening pictures is the mention of "Teachers" in that list of people involved. Another something people have brought up concerns over.

Stop making this about trying to own the cons. It's very possible several of the people on there are LGBT or Dem. And you'd ignore that, JUST to point out anyone not on your side. WHY THE FUCK do you care. Why can't all of it be bad. Conservatives are beat over the head with a 20 year old allegation equating their religious faith AS A WHOLE, to being pedo friendly. Imagine my shock when many got fed up with it and started putting that target on others. Mostly because it was a SMALL SUBSET of said group.

And now, just like them before, you are trying to salvage "your side" and deflect it from criticism. Also one last thing. MOST actual conservatives have not, and are not accusing most or all drag queens of being pervers or pedophiles. However in your fervor to not just demand they be in front of kids, but to also defend them from any and all allegations. I can certainly from the outside looking in see how that would be concerning. What's more, we DON'T know if any of the people shown there were drag queens. Some could have been ministers in the church. Both provide apt access to the people they wish to offend against.

Do you know what the only difference is between the two? You'll defend tooth and nail the drag queen even from the accusation. You know why that's bad? Because if that happened with a minister or pastor etc, that entire church community would be in lock down and every single person in power would be gone over with a fine tooth comb. So basically in one instance, Your side defends the potential predator, and their side demands action. In the other instance, you pat yourself on the back that bad people exist on the opposing side, and that side goes out of their way to figure out wtf is going on and seek out accountability.

Long story short. In both cases they want justice. In only once case you want justice. In the other case you are jerking off about how "good" your side is. Despite a NUMBER of people PUBLICLY that vote dem are on Epstein's flight lists including to his island on a number of occasions. Point it out and demand justice in every instance. Sex crimes especially against kids isn't a joke. And yeah OF COURSE by the laws of numbers it's going to be seen more in MUCH LARGER communities. DUH! Because there are more chances for it to even exist. A child understands that level of thought.

So again I ask you. Why do you care more about having a gatcha, than actual justice. You all saw, "the other side of the isle" and went, "See we aren't the bad guys". Meanwhile if I were to do research into every one of the people listed, I could likely find a few people who I could weaponize against your side. You know why I don't? Because I care more about the fact they got caught.

[highfantasy-soul]

NATLA Episode 8 - Legends (2/4)

[Masterlist of my NATLA thoughts]

Of course, full spoilers ahead.

<previous/next>

I really enjoy how Zhao (Azula) is a much smarter villain in the live-action than he was in the animated series. While I do love them both, leaning into the Fire Nation not just working off brute force, but rather being strategic and clever with their attacks was a great choice. The Ice Moon caveat for the spirits and Kuruk's spirit knife made the world feel bigger to me than just having the moon and ocean spirits conveniently always sitting there to kill by any means. I don't think the live-action team went in with the idea that the ocean and moon spirits being mortal was 'a plothole to fill' like some claim (yet again, always jumping to the least charitable interpretation of the live-action rather than spending three seconds to think about what it ADDS to the story to flesh that part out), I think they used it to seed a lot of lore and worldbuilding while also giving reasons as to why events played out the way they did.

Like I said in my post about episode 6, it makes a lot more sense to me that Zhao would have easy access to the info (and weapon) needed to kill the Moon Spirit rather than that shlub somehow finding the super hidden library that an archeologist spent YEARS searching for. While it was a cool foreshadowing of the library in season 2, having Zhao discover the moon and ocean spirit stuff in Avatar Roku's temple in the live-action I think makes more sense.

The fire sage being the one to explain the spirit oasis and the origins of waterbending to Zhao was a really cool change! It shows Zhao formulating his plan rather than having it just told to us like in the animated version - it includes the lore behind the ocean and moon spirit without making it so obvious that that's the solution to their problem, it introduces it as the problem and we have to work our way to the solution instead of it just being given to us. The fact that the sages still know and revere (even though they're using it to form an attack plan) the histories of bending is a nice touch. Especially the older sages, they remember the old ways and stories and don't discount the power of the old tales like younger people might. It doesn't stop them from falling into fascism (it stops some, but not all), but it does add layers and nuance to their world view rather than the very surface-level 'all others are bad, we don't pay attention to them' view that was shown mostly in the animated version.

Kuruk appearing to Aang to warn him was super cool!! I like how past Avatars can appear to their current iteration (not to mention they were right outside his shrine) to warn them of something and having it be Kuruk's knife that he can feel added a lot. It's another instance where the Fire Nation can turn anything into a weapon against the world - the weapon Kuruk forged to PROTECT the world from evil spirits and keep the world in balance is now being twisted and used by the Fire Nation to hurt the good ones and throw the world out of balance. Just as Zhao and the Fire Sage took a beautiful story about the creation of the Water Tribes and twisted it into something to harm them, they're taking a weapon of protection and making it a brutal weapon against the light.

UUUGGGHHHH Zhao and his twisted 'justifications' as to why killing the moon isn't actually all that bad. "Killing the ocean would deprive people of their lives - I'm not a monster!" of course he wants a world to rule, so he can't kill them, only fully subjugate them and wipe out their culture! See, they will get to live under his amazing rule, why would he deny them that opportunity?? Watch closely, everyone - that's the reasoning a lot of fascists give when they start trying to eradicate cultural practices - they argue that they're leaving the people alive, so it's not actually bad! We're just stripping away their identity and replacing it with our own! Save the man, kill the savage and all that.

"The Avatar's power is great, but it pales in comparison to the elemental spirits" SUCH GREAT FORESHADOWING WITHOUT GIVING IT ALL AWAYYYY!!!!!!! Also a great way to show the power scale of the world - as powerful as Aang is in the Avatar state, the spirits are the OG - especially the elemental ones. Aang ISN'T the most powerful thing in this world. It sets up how they're going to defeat the fire nation army without Aang in control of the Avatar state really well! They're leaving breadcrumbs rather than telling you the plan in a monologue or just randomly deciding to join with the ocean spirit - a power that hadn't been discussed at all in the animated show.

That Momo fake out death was CRUEL!!!! He just saved a girl's life and we think he gave his life to do it!!!! But it was a great way to introduce not only the spirit oasis, but also the healing properties of its waters. In the animated show, that's not mentioned at all until Pakku gives Katara the water vial and tells her it can heal - it's actually SHOWN in the live-action that it's powers are beyond normal healing. Yue's story about her being healed in these waters makes a lot more sense here as well rather than in the animated series where she tells the story once the moon is in trouble. At the time, it seems like it has nothing to do with the immediate danger, it's just a way to set up that she'll give back that life in the end - a quick lore set-up break in the action. In the live-action, it's directly tied to what's happening - she's doing the same thing to Momo that was done to her to save her life. Her connection with the moon isn't relevant yet, so that part of the story is held till later when it is relevant.

Honestly, I think the spirit oasis is much more impressive in the live-action. In the animated show, it's just a small island of grass with a pond - in the live-action, it's a whole valley filled with life. And I love how NO adaptation can resist showing Zuko fire-blasting his way out from beneath the ice - it's just too damn cool to leave out! I like how Iroh is still playing his loyalties close to the chest - he's not going to outright attack Zhao yet, but he'll definitely stall and not help out as much as Zhao wants him to.

Zuzu!!!! Like always, huge shit is happening all around but Zuko still thinks him capturing Aang is the most important thing in the world. I like that they're keeping that narrow focus for him - one of his biggest flaws - that blinds him to everything around him. He's not concerned about saving Agna Qel'a, he's not concerned about saving the spirits, he just wants to capture Aang and restore his place in the Fire Nation.

His face as Katara says she's gonna fight him and Aang agreeing - oof. Here he is thinking he's Aang's biggest threat and Aang is just handing his battle off to Katara. And Aang's sly little 'go easy' that wasn't to Zuko - the poor thing. So we begin Zuko v Katara round 2!!! Back in episode 2 on Kyoshi Island, Katara stood against Zuko - untrained and terrified, but knowing she needed to protect Aang. She was beaten easily, but now, she's had training. She's had experience. She's forged herself into a warrior and she's ready for everything Zuko can dish out. Well, not EVERYTHING as even in the animated series, Zuko does win due to his extensive training, but she puts up a wicked fight!

I am good with the siege only lasting one day rather than several like in the animated version. Though I do miss the 'you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun' line, it does kind of feel like Zuko kidnapping Aang was more to provide a cliffhanger for the end of The Siege of the North: Part 1 rather than a necessary narrative choice. In a 2-part finale, yeah we want a cliffhanger, but since this is all one episode, like I mentioned in my post about how episode flow has to change given the new format, that just wouldn't have worked out as well as a smooth single-night attack. Aang seeking guidance before the battle rather than getting kidnapped mid-meditation I think was a smart move. (I've always felt like that cliffhanger was a bit of an odd choice anyways because they make this huge deal about Aang not being able to find his body if it isn't right where he left it, but then it's…not a problem at all - his spirit just zooms back to his body - conveniently showing the Gaang where to find him and Zuko and nothing actually comes of that 'threat' of him not being able to re-enter his body. I'll talk about Zuko's speech about Azula later when it's brought up and altered in the live-action).

I LOOOOOVE Zhao's little speech here - his ambition to gain status - to become a legend, has led him to more and more dangerous things. He truly believes he could become the new Fire Lord. Iroh pleads with him not to do it, but Zhao is too filled with the desire for power that he's not listening to reason. Even after Iroh's threats, Zhao isn't concerned in the least - he views the threats 'empty' and is so smug about how 'this could still work out for you'. As if Iroh is like Zhao and would cave to any opportunity for power.

Like always, Aang tries to talk his enemy down - he tries to appeal to their better nature, an idea that they wouldn't want to throw the world into chaos. The exchange here is SO FREAKING GOOD. Aang pleading with Zhao that this isn't power, Zhao so drunk on his own importance that he can't imagine why anyone would give up the chance to wipe out an entire race of benders - and Aang knowing exactly what that's like, how horrifically awful it is. But for Zhao, those are only stories - he's never known a world with airbenders in it, but Sozin went down in history for that 'accomplishment' he, himself, can be in the history books along side such a 'legend' with no thought to the actual real, human hurt necessary to get there.

Aang finally tries the last thing he can - making Zhao the same offer he made Zuko: leave the attack behind and he'll go with them peacefully. But Zhao isn't Zuko - he wants more than just the Avatar. He wants to cause pain and suffering and have people look upon him with fear. I think it's such an interesting take to have Zhao, like June, not view the Avatar with reverence. He's bought into the Fire Nation propaganda that the Avatar isn't actually all that powerful - the Fire Lord has taken that place. Even the legitimacy of the concept of the Avatar itself is called into question - after all, the Fire Nation wants all the power and the Avatar would stop them. That's not helping  them, so the Avatar must be useless.

Unknowingly, Zhao has just struck at Aang's biggest fear: while Zhao thinks the Avatar doesn't matter on its face, Aang is afraid that he's not good enough as an Avatar TO matter.

I've seen people confused about Iroh's loyalties and his true goal in the live-action - is he really working against the fire nation or not? And some criticism that it seems like he's helping Zuko capture Aang TOO much/ doesn't stop Zhao soon enough from killing the moon spirit. I'd point them, yet again, to the animated series where he very clearly, in The Waterbending Master episode, tells Zuko "once we get to the north pole, the Avatar will be yours". At the moment, animated Iroh is fully on board with Zuko capturing the Avatar. If he plans on trying to influence him not to turn the Avatar in to the fire lord, it's not even hinted at yet, so I think keeping it up in the air for the live-action is staying true to Iroh and Zuko not being 'good guys' - their goals are still to capture Aang. Live action Iroh even attacks Zhao BEFORE the animated Iroh does! In the animation, Iroh threatens Zhao, but doesn’t make a move until Zhao has killed the moon spirit - in the live-action, he attacks in an attempt to save the spirit. Yet another example of people criticizing the live-action for something even more apparent in the animated series - often because they're thinking of the character 2 seasons from now and what they think THAT version of the character would do and trying to apply it to season 1 when that's not even the characterization the animated show gave them in season 1.

I think the subsequent fight in the moonless night is even more emotionally intense in the live action than it was in the animated series. You can FEEL the terror and SEE people dying as the waterbending fails and the fire nation advance. The way this sequence was shot is honestly amazing - it's not gruesome or violent for the sake of it - it's showing the truth of war and the horrific cost of such an assault. Letting the warriors of the Northern Water Tribe have a heroic stand against the firebenders even when their best resource was taken away was great to see. Giving Hahn and Chief Arnook their moment showed that it truly wasn't just about Aang and his friends - this story is about every single person who stands up to fight against tyranny, no matter the weapon they might wield or power they have.

[fbfh]

living with the fosters hcs

wc: 800

pairing: moms!stef and lena + siblings!adams foster kids (brandon, callie, jesus, mariana, and jude) + (gn) adams foster!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, found family, comfort, brief mention of various drama from the show (breakdowns, trafficking, suicidal tendancies, relapses, general bad decisions) (again it's incredibly brief like one bullet point for all of that), stef and lena are amazing moms, optional masc/male and fem/female hcs, I think that's it

a/n: falling down a fosters rabbit hole again!!!! adopt me pls!!!!! also brandon needs all of his siblings to gang up on him once in a while. he's the worst and callie is a close second. also if you don't know why you were tagged in this it's bc it falls under the domestic life/found family trope lol

@yesv01 @youkissedareaderinthedark @girlfriendwhoseawitch @mrscarolscaramoucheplease

Wailing screaming sobbing

First of all

Stef and Lena are the ultimate parents

You never had a good mom?? Now you fucking have two

You have a whole passel of siblings in a warm cozy house full of love

If you share a room with Callie and Mariana 

Get ready for some peak sister core moments

Mariana will frequently get second opinions on what color combos you think she should do for her next mani pedi 

Callie will act like she doesn’t want to talk about anything then ten minutes later she’s telling all about her current boy problems 

Helping Mariana do the back of her hair and doing Callie’s eyeliner for her because she insists she can’t do it as well as you have become as much a part of your morning routine as brushing your teeth

If you share a room with Jesus and Jude

It’s boy core healthy masculinity core all the way

Just guys being dudes

(or in Jude’s case, guys being Judes)

Jesus will constantly interrupt your attempts to do homework to ramble about his latest hyperfixation

Which is usually skateboarding or wrestling or 5 hour long youtube documentaries 

Jude is (affectionately) a little easier to get along with

Most of the time he only interrupts your homework for help with his 

Or to ask for help with a hard part of the level he’s stuck on in his video games

He puts stickers on his DS sometimes and loves getting your opinions on which ones should go where 

Brandon is super busy trying to get into music school and everything

But he makes sure to catch up with you at least a couple times a week 

Usually when it’s yalls turn to clean up after dinner

You’re both pretty busy, but you still make an effort to stay up to date on what’s going on with both of you

He tells you about all the drama in the music scene 

Even though he has to explain half the jargon and terminology to make his stories make sense

You tell him about the drama in your friend group at school 

Mariana and Callie will frequently ask you to settle arguments

And Mariana and Jesus 

And Mariana and Brandon 

Mariana just has a lot of hot takes

Stef and Lena work so hard to make this house a home

And they do

Everytime you come home from work or school or anywhere else

You’re always greeted with two warm hugs and kisses on the forehead form Stef and Lena

“Hi, love,” 

“How did everything go, sweetheart?” 

It’s not just small talk, they really do care about how things are going for you

They love you so much

They always keep your favorite cereal in the pantry 

They show up to as many of your events and extracurriculars as they can 

They’ll help you keep track of any meds or medical appointments 

They might even break their no coffee for the kids rule for you

It’ll take a little convincing but you know them well enough to know what cards to play 

They’re just so supportive too

Like you can wake them up in the middle of the night just cause you had a bad dream

They’ll hug you and ask if you want to talk about it and offer to make you tea

They really do have your back 100% of the time

And like

They’re so accepting 

Any problems you’re having 

Anything that’s causing you stress

You can talk to either of them 

Or both of them

Whenever you want

Even if you’re just feeling off

If you just need a little attention

Your mom and mama are there for you

They check up on you a lot too

Not too much, just checking in to see how homework’s going

If you’re hungry

How you’re feeling 

Anytime something scary happens 

Anytime there’s an argument or some other drama

Mariana’s ex boyfriend has a mental break down, Callie voluntarily enters a trafficking ring, Sophia tries to walk into traffic, Brandon spends his juilliard money on an apartment for his single mom girlfriend and her kid, Mike relapses

You know

The usual

Whenever there’s drama, Stef and Lena always make sure to check on you

They always take extra time to talk you through what happened or whatever crisis is going on

Make sure you know that they’re right here if you need them

And their hugs are the best too

They’re so warm and supportive

Literally and figuratively

Honestly you couldn’t ask for better moms 

They have your back through everything

Every injustice, every rough patch, every failure and low and problem

And every win and success and happy exciting joyful moment

They’re there for you through all of it

And from the bottom of their hearts, they couldn’t be more proud of you

[mr-deblob]

Hear me out on this: I honestly think Kairi could be the main playable character in Kingdom Hearts 4

Or at least a significant playable one.

I know that it sounds ridiculous to entertain the idea, especially with how badly she's been sidelined for the past 20 years. But taking into account the structure of mainline games and the current locations of our characters, it starts to look likely for both narrative and game design purposes.

Sora and Riku are stuck in Quadratum

First things first- there's no way in hell Nomura's letting Riku rescue Sora in the beginning hours of KH4. They definitely won't just hop back to the Realm of Light when they find each other. He might make questionable plot decisions, but he's not gonna pass up a chance to torture the two of them even more, especially since *something's* going on with Yozora and the Master of Masters.

In a GameInformer interview he gave, he was asked about how much time we'd spend in Quadratum.

I think it will be a pretty good amount of time since it is set as the initial base within the game. You spend time there and then go to different worlds and then go back there. Because the graphics are more realistic this time around, I feel like there’s more of a realistic daily life aspect to Sora’s life. You can see him go in and out of his room and spend time there. I feel like players will get to see more of the day-to-day routines he goes through.

It sounds like Quadratum will act more like an interlude between worlds, where the developments that happen in the Realm of Light (or wherever else) will cause more troubles to pop in the city. We've already seen Sora fighting a giant Heartless(?) that just showed up out of nowhere. There might be more events like that, or even encounters with the mysterious figures staring down from the rooftops. And when nothing's threatening the world, Sora might simply be living daily life with Strelitzia.

I'm uncertain on how much we'll actually get on the nature of Quadratum since it is just Tokyo, but part of me is feeling like the story beats will be more important than the setting on this side.

Kairi can have a blank-slate start

I'm sure everyone who picked Kairi in that final fight was a bit surprised by how aggressive it was. A strike raid teleport and a barrage of light flooding the battlefield were amazing to see in her first time in the spotlight. We know she can fight, so wouldn't those skills carry over to her next game?

But she's been asleep for a whole year to have her memories explored. They could easily explain the loss of former skills. Besides, the reasons for Sora always resetting to Level 1 are basically on the same scale. If you wanted more reasoning, then maybe Aqua's training is having her develop her own fighting style from scratch. It's very obvious she's trying to emulate Sora in her stance.

We also know that Kairi has her own unique combat pose. They've shown it to us at least twice in DDD and the KH3 opening, but we've never seen her actively using it in-game AFAIK. It sure would be an opportune moment to have her adopt it to signify her becoming her own person independent of Sora and Riku.

If the training time with Aqua seems like it would be too short to warrant Kairi going off on her own, keep in mind that we don't know how much time disparity there is between Quadratum and the RoL It could be synched up or be off by weeks, even months, more than enough to get her through the fundamentals.

Also, a mini-timeskip would give Nomura the chance to give the Destiny Trio new designs again. How Riku gets a new outfit and hairstyle while looking for Sora, I don't know, but he already pushed him through the Shadow Barber Shop. He can probably come up with something.

We still gotta have different Keyblades

Straight-up the title of this section. It's incredibly unlikely that Nomura would cut these, but as before, it's equally unlikely that Sora will get out of Quadratum into the RoL. Disney worlds are confirmed, and unless all of them are entirely new, I don't think there's a satisfying way to justify why he couldn't get help from the inhabitants, try to get off-world, or at least get in touch with someone if he still has his Gummiphone.

So if anyone else could go around to these worlds and collect these keychains, Kairi seems like a good candidate for that.

"But what about Destiny's Embrace?" Fair point. It's still got sentimental value to her and has familiarity. They wouldn't just dump it entirely.

However, I believe (and earnestly hope) that Kairi finally gets meaningful character development now. There's so much we could delve into (and we will later), but her current goal of growing stronger seemingly stems from a desire to determine her fate. For so long she's been carried by the tides of chance, waiting for what will happen rather than actively reaching towards her goals. In the end, it brought her down the path that led to Sora's disappearance, so she can't keep placing her faith in destiny.

Kairi might temporarily retire Destiny's Embrace, or perhaps her new mindset will trigger something in her Keyblade. We've seen that with Riku and the Way to the Dawn. It might be a more basic Keyblade like Braveheart, or she could end up wielding an iteration of the Kingdom Key to represent herself starting anew. Hell, maybe Sora fighting in her place in MoM passed it on to her, or she manifests it from her memories.

It'd be a convenient way to keep giving out new keychains while still making it feel like Sora experienced actual consequences for his misuse of the Power of Waking. They could even have Sora gain access to them through Kairi. His temporary possession of her at the end of MoM could be used as an in-universe way to hand-off the main PoV in a natural-feeling way, and she might be able to send him manifestations of the keychains as memories or something else that could cross over to Quadratum.

Masters and Maleficent will go wild

The KH3 ending brought back the Lost Masters through some unexplained mechanic. It also implies that they'll be the main antagonists of the new arc, but they're currently in the Realm of Light. I don't know how much Sora could do from the other side of reality. Not to mention Maleficent making even more schemes.

So the Keyblade wielders and their allies will have to defend against them and whatever other enemies crop up in their wake. But why would Kairi be the one pursuing their main goal? Why not Master Aqua, or at least one of the battle-hardened wielders?

Depending on the numbers, it'd be easy to say the other wielders are busy defending the worlds from the new threats, that they're spread too thin to take up whatever role Kairi would theoretically take. Maybe her status as a Princess of Heart could come up as another reason why it'd have to be her.

In any case, whatever Luxu has in that mysterious box spells bad news. The fact that there are going to be five ancient Keyblade Masters carrying out the Master of Masters' plan spells catastrophic news. Perhaps the missing Master Ava could work from the shadows to stymie them or to help Kairi on her quest.

Also, the Heartless are still gonna be wreaking havoc even if the Masters aren't. That will practically always be true, especially now that Xehanort's not controlling them all. Maleficent is going to do what Maleficent does best and use this to her advantage. With all these potential villains in the RoL, someone's gotta take care of them.

New worlds can develop Kairi further

Now that KH3 is finished and out of development hell, they're now free to consider new Disney properties, even those beyond 2014. And there's quite a few that could easily be connected to Kairi's desire to grow beyond her past and choose her own path:

Moana - Island girls who want to seize their destinies to see what lies beyond everyday life, both struggling with self-doubt. Also have grandmas who know more than they let on.

Coco - How memories connect us, that we can be together in heart when apart, the pains of love and separation. Fighting for your dream even when you're alone.

Encanto - Especially heavy exploration of breaking from the roles others place on us and that we take on, acknowledging and expressing emotions we hide from others.

Brave - "If you had the chance to change your fate, would ya?" Besides that, accepting that people can grow apart, that we each take our own paths, that it doesn't need to break our bonds.

WALL-E - Be open to change, don't let familiarity keep you stuck. Trust in the future, trust in yourself, break through the limits of your past. Go on even when all seems lost.

Frozen 2 - Self-determination and independence, grieving what has been lost, righting the wrongs of the past. Pain is a fact of life, do not let your fear of it keep you from doing what is necessary.

There's likely other films that could fit or other themes of these movies that parallel with Kairi, but these are rife with potential. Plus, the trend of female protagonists with little to no romantic storylines could let Kairi be perceived as more than Sora's love interest or someone to be saved.

Kairi is finally free to change

I don't think it's controversial to say that Nomura really mishandled Kairi's role in the series up til now. She's been stuck in character limbo, and even if we know more stuff *about* her since KH1, we haven't really gotten much *from* her. She's never had enough focus to really showcase her inner world, but I don't think it's due to disinterest on Nomura's part. Instead, I think that it was a result of very poor planning of her arc and his weakness at indirect characterization.

From the start, he probably had an idea of where he wanted to take Kairi's character. He must've, at minimum, pinned down the major strokes of her backstory involving Radiant Garden given the brief mention of her not remembering her home and the flashback with her grandma in KH1. KH2 and BBS both manage to flesh her out a bit more, and even her portrayal in the first game seemed to hint at something going on beneath her surface. Even so, she still outwardly appears as the same cheerful, kind, caring girl from the beginning of the series. I don't think Nomura decided to completely rip those seeds of growth from her character, but he has at least stifled them up til now.

In comparison to all the other main and supporting characters in KH, Kairi is noticeably lacking in any major character insights. From what I've seen, even people who dislike how the female cast is written can tell that the story is practically avoiding any chances for Kairi to verbalize her emotions. The conversations we do get with her almost always shift focus to the other person's feelings. If it does focus on her, the thoughts she does express tend to explore her relationships with other people instead of letting us know more about Kairi herself. As to why he'd make this writing choice with her, there's two possible answers beyond him just not wanting to deal with her.

The first is that he's trying to characterize her through her lack of characterization, that she's a people-pleaser who tends to put others' needs and wants before her own. We've already seen shades of this in KH1 on the dock and when Sora tells her to stay behind in Traverse Town.

In the former, it comes across as her trying to convince herself to go along with the plan about the raft, telling herself that she's ready to go wherever and holding onto the idea that she can always come back to Destiny Islands. Even so, you can hear a hesitation and uncertainty in those words. The only parts where she lets her fears bleed through are when she tells Sora not to change and arguably when she jokes about just the two of them taking the raft. Kairi tests the waters to see if Sora would be willing to go along with her alone before backing down. I don't think she'd actually go through with it, she's not that type of person. I can't say for certain that she hasn't entertained the thought, even if only half-seriously, but it's clear that she said it to avoid her thoughts on how Riku's changed. Kairi doesn't want to show Sora her doubts, especially when they're so close to setting sail. The only assurance she allows herself is asking Sora not to change, to stay her familiar friend, before shifting to expressing apparent excitement at setting sail.

When Sora and Kairi make their promise with the Wayfinder, she's afraid of how their friendship with Riku will have changed if he comes back. Still, she's willing to go help save Riku after seeing Sora's resolve to do so. When he tells her no, she pushes back, telling him that they have to stick together. She only starts to relent when Sora tells her that they won't be alone even if they're apart, then gives up entirely when he says she'd be in his way. Her laugh almost seems like an automatic response to cope with the hurt that statement would naturally provoke. Before he goes, she makes a compromise between their wants, getting Sora to promise that he'll return her Wayfinder to her- that he'll come back after everything's done. Then she tells him that she's always with him wherever he goes, taking Sora's statement and using it to reassure herself more than him. She doesn't want to inconvenience the ones she cares for, so she changes herself, adapting to their desires and opinions to ease any friction between them.

The other answer would be that Nomura's plan for her required her to retain her starting character traits until certain conditions were fulfilled. From where we are in the story, I'd wager that he she needed to be separated from Sora and Riku and for her to gain a meaningful motivation get stronger, at least according to Nomura's standards. The first half of that has been true for almost the entire series, as sad as it is, but we've only just now fulfilled the second. It's possible that he underestimated how long he would need to keep Kairi relatively unchanged for whatever he had planned in the future, causing her to be a static character for all this time.

Now, she's had to confront her fears head-on, needed to acknowledge the feelings of weakness and inferiority getting shattered by Xehanort gave her. It's Xehanort's fault that Sora disappeared, but she might partly blame herself for needing to be rescued rather than saving herself. Her tendencies of staying out of everyone's way and going along with their plans wasn't enough to keep Sora out of harm's way, to protect him. That failure can drive her to grow strong, to realize that valuing herself doesn't mean having to devalue others, that caring for yourself is an act of kindness for those who care about you.

I will acknowledge that even if these answers are accurate, reasonable intentions still don't excuse a sloppy execution. Nomura has skill in weaving a character's motivation into their actions and personality to add depth. However, he often relies on the characters voicing these out loud instead of letting the audience draw their own conclusions from what's presented. While this works well-enough for the series, it means that any indirect characterization he tries to do often ends up falling flat. Aqua at the Keyblade Graveyard is the biggest example of this. It's clear now that her time in the Realm of Darkness left her with some serious PTSD and that the massive storm of Heartless caused her to freeze up at the sight, but the way it was shown pre-Re:Mind ended up frustrating more people with her inaction instead of having them understand why she didn't act.

I'd argue the same thing's been happening with Kairi throughout the series up until now. A character like Kairi isn't inclined to express their unfiltered thoughts, leaving her to rely on indirect characterization to be fleshed out. Combine that with a weakness at subtle storytelling and a severe lack of focus and screentime, and you'll leave your audience almost nothing to discern about her character without close examination. Not to mention, any frustrations or disappointments or boredom regarding her character would only serve to make people even less willing to engage with her, especially stretched out over two decades.

Hopefully, Nomura feels free to put his plans regarding Kairi into motion now that she's gained the space for agency beyond Sora and Riku. I even think Nomura himself is aware of his struggles with nuanced character writing, something he hopes to fix. If you haven't heard, he brought on Akiko Ishibashi, the writer for Neo: The World Ends with You, to help write KH4. Anyone whose played that game can tell you about the amount of depth and complexity the cast of that game had, and her ability to transform one-dimensional archetypes into fully-realized people. I have little doubt that she'll breathe new life into the world of Kingdom Hearts, and I think that we'll see the start of this change through Kairi first and foremost.

In the future

This all sounds like wishful thinking, and it is, but I hope that it's not entirely unfounded. I'm mainly making this before any major trailers drop because, if this does happen, I can't imagine them hiding it for too long.

Maybe Nomura will finally give Kairi the screentime she deserves, and if he doesn't... well, guess we'll go through even more years of rightful disappointment in Nomura's handling of her.

[alyniaffxiv]

I wanted to make a post kinda compiling all my thoughts on what was announced today! First off feeling super hyped. I'm excited that we're adventuring off again after the events of endwalker, it'll be a much needed breath of fresh air. That trailer omg it was so good. Never seen one piece, but got such one piece vibes from it. The cgi for the scions and wol looked fantastic and the new areas look amazing. Very excited to see it's based of south america and hope they do it well.

Can we just look at HOW GOOD HE LOOKS ♡♡♡

A little bummed it is next summer, thought it would be beginning of next year but think it'll be worth the wait. Fingers crossed for early June/July.

Now this scares me don't let me fight the twins or g'raha please ;-; but honestly looking forward to some kinda of conflict with the scions and what it'll be about exactly. And will this have long term effects?

The new areas look freaking STUNNING with the new graphical update. It was cute seeing how excited yoshi p was talking about the shadows and plants being updated xD

SPEAKING OF THIS MAN WAS A TEASE ;-;-;-; But we all know yoshi doesn't wear a shirt without it having some kind of purpose so seen a few different theories. Based on the trailer we did see either the wol or somebody with a similar cloak holding a new weapon. Some people are thinking a corsair class which would be cool. And it could be a dual wielder with a pistol and a sword. If true that'll be a fun class. The two new classes were confirmed to be a melee and a caster (hell yes finally) But going back to the shirt it could be going many different directions. All the TMNT turtles are named after artists. So maybe some kind of Inkmage is what I seen most talked about. Or they are holding duel wielding weapons which could further confirm the corsair class. Whatever it is might see one of them at the EU fanfest in october.

Taking a break to admire the boys Erenville and G'raha Tia cause LOOK AT THEM ♡♡♡

Now probably the biggest thing this update is the graphical update and WOWW it seriously looks great so far.

Left is updated right is current ingame The way it just looks so much brighter and colorful fdjhfv seriously can't wait. It's a much needed update and so far they still aren't done but next time we see it will be even better.

Updated example of aura their horns look great so far not just a blob. There are some videos on youtube showing off just the updated graphical updates and it all looks stunning especially a certain flower field we're all quite familiar with. Now with this of course does come with updated system requirements not as bad as I thought I barley just meet the recommended but keep this in mind for Dawntrail. It makes me wonder if by 8.0 support for ps4 will stop entirely or they will just have a lower quality version for ps4. We'll have to see.

NOW THIS THANK YOU FOR ALL THIS This is all stuff I know myself and so many players have been begging to be added into 14 and it's finally happening.

Really hoping for at least 100 slots for housing inside and maybe 20 for outside. It seriously will just give so much more freedom for housing peeps. Now of course we have standard stuff we come to expect -Level cap -New Dungeons -New Trials -8 Player Raids -Ultimate Raids -Alliance Raids -New Gear and Recipes -Fates -Hunts -Treasure Hunts -Side quests -PVP Updates

P.S just love this little guy <3

But we also have what yoshi p said Expansive New Lifestyle Content so something like island but not. Super curious what they have in mind for that or what it even possibly could be? Now...the two things I would have NEVER and I mean NEVER guessed is this...

FALL GUYS?!?! Not just a collab in fall guys as a full pass but a probably perma game mode in the gold saucer! I could not stop screaming crying laughing in vc with a friend. I'm still in shock this is even happening. Much less skins being in fall guys but a fall guys game mode in 14! Ngl tho it looks like a ton of fun and I hope it brings some more people to the gold saucer. Now they said in 7.0 gold saucer is getting an update which they said in 6.x that was gonna happen. Please let it be a bigger update this time.

This is the second thing that surprised me was 14 is coming to xbox! Which is great bringing in new people to the game and honestly about time it's on xbox. Phil spencer also great to see him as awkward as ever :)

Nothing needs to be said about this picture lol this was so funny to watch live Overall though extremally hyped for what this expansion is going to bring. I think it's going to bring such a fresh air from the doom and gloom endwalker brought and what I am hoping is just more content. Endwalker does feel a little lacking in content and I just want more and hopefully they can deliver.

I know and can understand people not super vibing with the more relax vacation this is showing off so far. But we still don't fully know what mysterious or problems we'll have so I'm quite optimistic of what they will bring here. Anyone reading this I'm curious what other people think and if you want leave a comment I wanna know :D

[jennilah]

personal rambling in public again

hey how ya doin

just kinda thinkin bout stuff and my year so far

i made a promise to fill this year with just as much events and exciting things as last year and I am making well on that so far, just not really in the way i expected!

i swear i came back from my easter vacation different

i came back from vacation to find out that many of my friends and coworkers were laid off (public news, i wont be getting into detail) and that really bummed me tf out. that was the start of my vibes being thrown off. theres been a kind of aura of sadness in the office ever since, to me at least.

my parents also very suddenly decided to sell the house, the one i grew up in. something thats bittersweet, but generally just another big change that was making me feel weird

then my rebellious phase really began

first, became a true stoner, and got my first tattoo. which quickly became planning my second tattoo (booked next month!)

yes, theres been many jokes about me entering my true form as an artist with the weed and the body art and all

and then, the biggest of all, i decided to say goodbye to my current studio and sign a contract with a new one.

this is the first time im leaving a studio by my own volition and not because i myself was laid off. (its a rough industry lol) its definitely different. a lot more emotional. my current studio is a place ive called home for many years and I really had an amazing time there, and ive made so many best friends and connections there. (its the first studio i worked for! after my brief stints at other studios i managed to end up right back where i started after a company merge lmfao)

i think i was non stop crying for five days straight last week, in utter turmoil deciding if i should stay at my current studio where im highly regarded and my job is as secure as possible (bc of how unstable the industry is right now with the writers strike) and i work with people i adore, or explore whats out there and try something new, but risky.

i ultimately decided to take the risk, expand my brain and see how another studio operates and make new connections and friends. if something happens and im the first to arrive, first to get cut- then so be it. ill make that mistake, then.

once i made the decision i have only felt more and more confident every day in that choice, and excited to start something new. i realize this was probably the exact last change ive been needing. everything else around me was suddenly changing and throwing me off, now i get to be in the driver's seat for a bit. just go all in and really enter a new chapter in my life, as corny as it sounds

anyway next thursday will be a very tearful goodbye again, i think. handing in my resignation i was a MESS. but im also excited! They dont do as many films, but they do a lot of really interesting shows on streaming. and i get to FINALLY call myself a SENIOR ANIMATOR. i already was one, but that studio had their own unique title system, and so it was never really clear to other people in the industry wtf level I am, esp with my very small amount of years of experience. I am officially a Senior Animator. feels nice.

and i also get to have a nice month-long vacation between jobs ^^ gonna take full advantage of relaxation and having free time. gonna even be able to visit my parents this summer, something i didnt think id have time to do. (and see that new house!!) (AND do the convention! and Art Fight! and get my second tattoo! and get back into that slasher-watching and TOTK-playing!)

this was longer than i planned imma go eat wendy's

[summerblueringo]

now that we know Jense tried to convince Seb to do WEC....

___

Jenson adjusts the webcam, making sure that it’s centred on the sofa where Kimi is currently sitting and looking at him quizzically. “Ready? Maybe you should pop a few buttons open.” “This is stupid.” Jenson rolls his eyes, having gone through this plenty of times already. “It’ll work, trust me.” Happy with the screen positioning, he picks up a pile of cards from the desk and hands them over to Kimi, who takes them but doesn’t really pay them much attention. “You remember what you did for that video? I need you to read this when he picks up.” His hostage guest sighs in a manner that shows how much effort he is making just by being here, before finally frowning down at the cards. If Jenson wants the same level of performance, Kimi will be happy to oblige — even if Jenson did lie about a motocross event to get him here. He’s just flipped to the second piece of paper when there is a beep from the laptop and a very familiar face appears on the screen. “Okay, Jense, what did— what’s Kimi doing there?” Sebastian doesn’t even try to hide the pout that takes over his features. “I sent you a message last week and you still haven’t replied, but Jenson invites you over and you go?” “Alright, as much as I hate interrupting this little lovers’ spat- ” he ignores the offended sound coming from the laptop- “Kimi has something to ask you. Kimi?” The Finn throws Jenson an unreadable look before turning his eyes to the words in his hands. “Sebastian will you.” He flips to the next card. “Race in WEC.” “No.” It truly is amazing how much sulking can be packed into one word. Jenson makes a strangled sound and rushes to flip to the next card. Kimi duly reads it. “With me.” There is a moment of silence, followed by a huff and an annoyed “Fine.” “Great!” Jenson takes a moment to triumphantly punch the air in celebration, and his grin is bright as he sits down in front of the laptop, which currently shows Sebastian going off on a tangent about instagram mutuals. “I’ll send you the details over email, yeah? Talk to you later, mate!” Once again ignoring the German’s protests, he ends the call and turns back to Kimi. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” “I still don’t understand why you couldn’t ask him yourself if you want him to race with you.” Jenson’s smile dims a little as he realises that he still has to convince Kimi to join them as well. At least he knows Sebastian will be much more enthusiastic about helping out with that, especially if a sofa and camera are involved.

I just think that a VET - RAI - BUT Le Mans lineup would fix like 2% of my problems rn

[burnedbyshoto]

i wonder

i wonder (if you remember the way we looked at each other)

— Living as roommates with your best friend is easy until someone fucks up and catches feelings.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut fem!reader, and they were roommates, childhood friends!au, university!au, quirkless!au, modern!au, americanized university experience, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, the plot is for the sex AHA, womanizer!shouto, shouto and reader are bad roommates but seiji is worse, shouto has sex at 16 for the first time, vouyerism-ish, iffy shouto tendencies, jealous!shouto, jealous!reader, drunk sex so dubcon depending on you, nipplegasms, reader has nipple piercings, blowjob, switching, marking, biting, scratching, praise kink, missing tag ;)

word count: 20,141

a/n: this is for the roommates bnharem collab! please check out all the other amazing fics and art! note to self, dont get drunk the night before this is due and I hope you guys enjoy this!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! also,,, sorry if mobile doesn’t correctly format!

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You cracked your eyes open.

The gentle white stream of light permeated through soft cotton curtains, lighting the room in pale stripes and careful touches. Dust particles danced within the shining light, bending and twirling with the flowing air and moving winds. You breathed in deeply, your body still tired, your head still foggy from a night of distractions and too many drinks. 

Your eyes are closed once again, your still hazy mind trying to ignore the bitter, rank taste of the alcohol and cum on your tongue and your hands scratching as your naked cleavage. There was still enough time in the day; it was Sunday after—

Wait.

CUM?!

Your eyes flew open, your lips smacking each other as you confirm the awful, salty taste of cum on your tongue. Your hands swiping up and down your front to confirm your state of undress. Your heart starts hammering in your chest, your palms immediately sweating as you try to think about just who the fuck you ended up back in bed with.

Think, y/n, think!

A small grunt came from behind you, and you felt your entire body go rigid immediately. The soft expel of air fanning against your sticky neck is both welcomed and untrusted. With what can only be described as you, as stiff as a stick, peering behind your shoulder similar to a mother who definitely heard her child throw up on her bed but is somehow praying that she was hearing shit, you turned around.

A messy bedhead of red and white greeted you: unfocused, sleepy grey, and brilliant blue eyes staring back at you with fond familiarity and welcome.

“‘Morning, y/n,” Todoroki Shouto grumbles, voice husky, scratchy, deeply warm from his slumber. His next words are damning, though, the slight pride and knowing implications in the small breathe he uttered next. “Had fun last night?”

There was silence, a stroke of hesitancy, then crushing all-consuming fear.

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

O N E  W E E K  A N D  A  D A Y  E A R L I E R

“Who the fuck touched my fucking Angry Orchard Rosés?!” a voice snapped from the kitchen; the tone was fed up, seconds from blasting to smithereens.

You were in the living room, a pair of sweats on, your hair not put together, your face still bare. The music you played as part of your pregame ritual was practically vibrating the wooden floor as you sang along to your music. The telling glass bottle of deliciously pink alcohol swinging inconspicuously between your fingers as you drank it between verses. Despite your other roommate (who you repeatedly told your friends to be ‘like Bakugou but a gazillion times worse because you don’t and can’t like him,’) being seconds from trying to start another feud or possibly a lawsuit against you, your mouth dropped in mock shock before guzzling down the rest of the drink.

“I saw that you fucking skank!” Shishikura Seiji screeched from the kitchen; his stomps were long and heavy as he made his way from the kitchen to the living room where you were. “There were two bottles left in there! Don’t tell me your alcoholic ass drank them both! So help me, I’ll press on your damn chest until you’re puking out my drink.”

“Shishikura, stop,” Shouto spoke up, his own arm raising as he took a long, slow drink from the other missing rosé bottle. “These are 2% alcohol, you’ve had them in the fridge for months now, and you never drink them anyways.”

You grinned as you pulled the glass bottle from your lip, your face failing at the fake look of surprise, guilt, and sorrow for your unwanted and unneeded roommate.

“Sorry, they’re such girly drinks. I figured I’d take them off your hands,” you speak with distractingly bright amusement. “Alcoholics like me, we don’t care. Watch out; I might go for your mouth wash if you’re not too careful.”

“You do that, and I’ll poison you like a damn bitch,” Shishikura threatened, his voice in a menacing growl.

“Ooooo, you want me to bark for you, Shishikura? Want me on my hands and knees?” you taunt back, walking backward until you’re collapsing onto the couch besides Shouto. Your arm quickly sneaks between his, and you lay your head on his shoulder. Shishikura’s face is flushed red, his pupils beady as he trembles with concealed rage.

“She’s quite good at it,” Shouto chimes in, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smirk as he takes another drink of the weak liquor. He shifts on the couch, allowing you to curl more comfortably at his side; the both of you know just how much your incredibly prude roommate hates any sort of PDA. “Want to hear her bark? She’s also quite good with her tongue.”

As if to emphasize Shouto’s point, you stuck out your tongue, refusing to break eye contact with Shishikura as the tip of your tongue breached the opening of the bottle.

“The actual fuck is wrong with the both of you?!” Shishikura spluttered, his face somehow turning purple and green and red. A truly incredible sight to be had. “‘Childhood friends are great roommates to have’ my fucking ass, you both are monstrosities!”

Shishikura stormed out of the living room, his ears neon red as his purple hair fell to cover his face. As soon as he was out of sight, you turned to Shouto, your tongue removing itself from the bottle and back into your mouth as you began to laugh loudly.

Childhood friends to roommates, ah, what a remarkable story you had with Todoroki Shouto.

It was accurate to relay that you had known Shouto for more than seventeen years now at your current age of twenty-one. Seventeen years of being what is easily seen as the best of friends, the closest companions, and indeed a bond that would withstand time and situation. 

The two of you met during the first week of what was preschool. Although both of you could not remember a single instance of events during this time, your mothers had always been excited to relay this story to you for many years that you could remember. It was odd to try to remember it, but even as they painted a picture of your first interaction, you could do nothing but admit that it sounded exactly like how it could have gone. 

You couldn’t remember being four years old; you don’t recall what it was like to strain your neck to look up at your parents or how it felt to be so utterly dependent but to scream brazenly about your childish independence. Your mother smiles when she retells the story of your first interaction, of how you were holding her hand as she walked you to the building where your preschool was to be had. 

Your hand was so small in hers. Tightly clutching onto her fingers as you looked around at the other children who were also arriving or had already arrived. Some children were bawling by their parents, others aimlessly playing with toys, and some were attempting to talk to one another, but by the apparent looks of curiosity surrounding the babbling and rambling tangents that could only be understood by a firing toddler brain, everyone was getting along. 

A teacher greeted you kindly, squatting down to reach your eye level as they excitedly introduced themselves and asked for your name. You, of course, with your hands clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress, responded with hesitant confidence.

“You’re such a brave girl!” the teacher awed happily, stretching out a hand for you. “Is it okay if I take you from your mom and show you which cubby is yours?”

There was a moment of confusion, then clear understanding hovering over your little head. Your mom looked down with an encouraging smile and pushed you forward.

“Do I get a middle cubby? I don’t want a top one,” you admit, your hand stretching out to grab the teacher’s stretched-out hand. 

Your mother watched on happily as you removed your schoolbag and lunchpail and placed them neatly within the somehow middle cubby marked with your name. The teacher also helped you put on your white school slippers before gesturing towards the bright, colorful room, their mouth moving as if explaining every little detail before pointing at the corner. Your mother tilted her head, curious as she followed the teachers point to the corner of the room where a boy with exceptional red and white hair — split perfectly in the middle — sat quietly, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

(Shouto, although he can not remember this day himself, will argue with you and only you that he was, in fact, NOT crying.)

Trying to not allow the shock of the unnatural hair color affect her, your mother watched as you nodded to your new teacher and walked over with clenched fist confidence to the small boy.

She watched as you approached him, your jaw moving as you so obviously spoke, hopefully introducing yourself. The boy looked up at you with bright, wet eyes but seemed to speak right back to you. 

“Alright, parents! Thank you all for dropping off your children! Do not worry. We will take great care of them all, and they are in competent hands! First days are hard for everyone, so if you can exit quietly, I, and the rest of us teachers, would appreciate that greatly!”

Or at least that’s what Rei claimed the teacher said.  However, your mother was watching on with increasing exponential horror as she watched you throw a punch at the air before twisting around and pointing right at her and saying with a voice that was much too loud.

“Punch whoever made you cry, Shouto-chan! My mama says that it is okay to punch bullies!”

Thankfully no one but your mother heard you, and even though she scolded you on the way out, whisper yelling that you “better not punch anyone!” her relief was for naught.

When she would return in the afternoon, a bit late because there had been a hold up on the train, you were pouting sitting on the floor with a scuffled uniform, your arms crossed definitely. Next to you was the boy with red and white hair, equally scuffed next to a white-haired woman and an older white-haired boy.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” she shrieked, racing over to you.

“Y/l/n-san,” the teacher spoke with a tone that indicated disappointment with the subtle undertone of amusement. “Y/n-chan has something to tell you.”

Your mother had taught you many things, she will admit, in your very short life. But sass and annoyment was something not often seen in your household or in you, and to see it so blatantly on your chubby-cheeked face was quickly giving your mother greys.

“Shouto-chan told me that his stupid bully brother Touya was being a meanie, and so I helped him punch him back!” you said with tears in your eyes because you didn’t want to back down from your actions, but you also did not like being scolded. “I don’t regret it!”

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

“I don’t either,” Shouto-chan grumbled as your mother collapsed to her knees and began to profusely apologize for you to the woman who was undoubtedly Shouto’s mother. “Touya-nii was making fun of my hair again… y/n-chan helped me, though. Please don’t scold her!”

To say the most in the shortest amount of time, you were, in fact, scolded despite Shouto’s begging. Touya stopped making fun of Shouto’s natural hair. Rei accepted your mother’s apology. The teachers were given two bottles of sake.

And, of course, the most important, the most paramount thing to arise from this first day of school was that your and Todoroki Shouto’s friendship was now bound by blood, sweat, and tears.

Preschool became elementary school, which became middle school, and fading into highschool.

It was without saying that your relationship, your friendship with Todoroki Shouto, was probably one of the biggest, most defining parts of your entire life. He was there when your first tooth fell out, when he dropped ice cubes down people’s shirts, you two had bathed together when you were young, had sleepovers well past the age where him being a boy and you being a girl should have made things weird. You laughed when his voice cracked and dropped, he elbowed your chest plenty when you began growing boobs, you taunted his lack of body hair, he bought you your favorite ice cream and heating packs on your first period. You attended cram school together, went to the park and beaches on days off from school. You were partners in every school activity except under specific circumstances. He had listened to you when you told him excitedly about your first kiss when you turned fourteen, and you laughed when he said at the age of fifteen that he had still yet to kiss anyone.

Everyone always claimed, always asked, wondered, and whispered if the two of you were dating. Childhood friends still this close and not dating? Unheard of; practically illegal! Nevertheless, you ignored the disappointed frowns or the hopeful grins as you and Shouto both denied any sort of romantic connection.

Soon the both of you were in high school, and Shouto was mere days from turning sixteen. Much like when the both of you were when you were four years old, you seemed to be the one spouting many words — sometimes unnecessary words that wound you both up in trouble — of wisdom. You were loud when you needed, talking most of the time only to him and your surprisingly large group of friends. (You weren’t that surprised. Everyone wanted to be friends with the handsome, could easily be royalty or a model, Todoroki Shouto.) Shouto remained, for better or worse, quiet, reserved, and a bit awkward. He was a sweet boy, don’t get it wrong, and you would protect him until the end of your days, but the boy was a complete airhead and relied on you for interpreting social interactions.

“Camie-senpai wants me to go over to her house after my birthday,” Shouto explains, his hands exchanging his school shoes for his outdoor ones. “Something about wanting to do that one second-year first-year student project thing for the third years right away.”

“You have Camie?” you ask, slumping against the metal lockers with a slight thud. “Lucky, she’s so nice… I have stupid Agoyamato. Have you had a conversation with him? It’s actually the worst! He thinks he’s all that!”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay; you’re nice enough that he won’t be like… that,” Shouto smiles, slinging his bag on his shoulders before nudging his head towards the exit. “Ready?”

“Am I ever ready?” you ask with a whine but nevertheless proceed onward.

Time passed, and between cram school, actual school, some clubs, eventually January 11th passed and you held an ice cream cake that Shouto loved. You ate the cake together, relaxing as you sat in the warmth of his kitchen.

“Happy birthday, Shoucchan, never change!” you chirp, shoving his arm that rose to place the piece of cake in his mouth with your shoulder and watched as the sweet pastry splattered on top of the table. “...um?”

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

“Only ten?! What about the happy birthday boy.”

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

An hour later, when your stomach hurt from laughing too much and the sickly sweet weight of too much ice cream cake, you lay snuggled into Shouto’s side as the both of you watched some old movie.

“Thanks for always being here for me,” you mumble, eyes growing heavy as the heat of Shouto’s body began to lull you to sleep.

“I��m always here for you,” Shouto softly responded, hand gliding up and down the curve of your spine. “We should get you home. Your mom yelled and nearly skinned us both the last time you fell asleep here.”

“Only cuz she’s scared that we’ll have some sudden revelation we like each other and fuck each other’s brains out,” you groaned, absolutely not content with having to move. With your face buried in your hands now, you missed the weird pattern in Shouto’s chest over that.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“...fine, just because it’s your birthday.”

The next day, when Shouto followed Camie home instead of you, there was something that made you feel off as you waved at them goodbye. It wasn’t jealousy, that much you knew, but something worse when you watched the way your never-been-kissed-before best friend was ignorant to the dark eyes Camie sent his way.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure if you should be as surprised as you are when you get a phone call at ten p.m. to the sound of a confused, suppressed, overwhelmed voice of your best friend asking if you could confirm if Camie had fucked him. You then stayed on the phone for Shouto until well past two a.m., your heart hurting as he recounted the memory over and over again. You weren’t sure as to why your heart was breaking. By the sounds of it, Shouto had actually enjoyed it, but with every stammer to his voice, you felt lightyears away.

Most shockingly, however, was the effects this had on Shouto and his overall persona.

From ages four until fifteen, Todoroki Shouto was someone who was quiet, observant, took things a bit too literally, at all times was entirely precious in the way he interacted with people, and most importantly, unaware of the female population who lusted after him. It worked well for you because it was fun to tease him about things, nag him about how he was sixteen, and hadn’t been kissed even though if he asked any girl at school to kiss him, they definitely would. 

But sixteen-year-old Todoroki Shouto was a new shift, a new paradigm for you to learn. It wasn’t that he wasn’t confident before, but now he emitted a sense of confidence that he was aware of, that everyone was aware of. He became mature, sophisticated, styled even. He was still at times quiet, always completely observant. He rarely took things literally and understood rhetoric and sarcasm and hyperboles. Long gone were the days of preciousness, and instead, there was a sense of a predator on the hunt that bled in the way that he talked to people. Most importantly, however, he was fully aware of the female population and precisely who was lusting after him.

He flirted with women and girls. You would find him leaning against the lockers talking with them, somehow trapping them despite not actually trapping them. A new girl was sitting at your table with him practically every week in high school, each girl asking for the hundredth millionth time that the both of you were not dating. Some girls were even bold enough to apologize to you for stealing your best friend — as if you wanted Shouto.

You had already seen his dick, thank you very much (although the last time you saw it was well before you were nine years old), you weren’t missing out on how it probably looked now! Honestly, you had no idea how Shouto never managed to run out of female students to fuck, the school wasn’t that large, and he seemed to go through a few a week sometimes.

But he was your best friend, your childhood friend, and no matter how many girls came crawling back to your lunch table, bawling to Shouto to take him back, soaking the fabric of your skirt to help convince him to take her back, you stayed. You stayed, accepting the fact that your best friend had become an awkward teenage boy and turned into some high school sex freak.

You stayed when his shaggy hairstyle was clipped and became short.

Overnight, just as he went from being a complete virgin to not one, he went from a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy to a leanly built eighteen-year-old hot-ass heartthrob womanizer.

High school wasn’t forever. Even though it took you about a year to accept and integrate Shouto’s new sex life and behavior into your daily lifestyle with him (he always left four of the three days open for you as all his relationships were casual only). Soon enough, the both of you relaxed and found your own relationship to be entirely the same, and when university exams and applications came about, it was decided that yet again, the both of you would follow each other anywhere.

Which is where you were now.

Tokyo University,  a third-year student, living in an upscale three-person apartment with your best friend, of course. Shouto plus someone who practically begged in the most unbegging way to live with you.

Todoroki Shouto and Shishikura Seiji in the same apartment as you made for an interesting combination.

You hadn’t wanted Shishikura Seiji as a roommate at all. Period. 

There were about eleven other people you only considered asking, but they all said no for their own reasons. Bakugou and Midoriya had found their own apartment closer to the University, and for much cheaper, Kirishima and Mina were RA’s and could not move in. Kaminari said he liked Sero’s couch too much to leave, and Sero couldn’t live in an apartment without a balcony. Momo said the room was too small, Jirou said she’d rather continue living with Momo, Uraraka said it was a tad bit too much for her to afford (to be fair, you didn’t have to pay because the Todoroki’s were paying for your housing, but you understood), Tsuyu and Hagakure said they were living at home. Iida said he would be too uncomfortable living with a couple.

Everyone you found on the street wouldn’t accept your offer. Hence, Shouto invited the meatball and rosé obsessed Shishikura Seiji to live with the two of you simply because he was Shouto’s lab partner in one of his advanced physics classes. Stupid chemical engineering nerd.

At twenty-one years, you can now say that you’ve entirely adjusted to Shouto’s womanizer ways. Too often do you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter, a steaming cup of tea in your hand as you drink it in slowly, watching with much amusement as either a no-name girl leaves or a walk of shame Shouto enters. It happens at most five times a week; you were used to it. While the unease had finally left, you had to admit you were impressed your best friend could easily sleep around as he did and maintain his outstanding grades.

However, just because you were finally used to Shouto’s womanizer tendencies didn’t mean the world was. Even in University, your fellow students would ask with wide eyes and behind flat palms if the two of you were dating — specifically if Shouto was cheating on you or if it was an open relationship. You would each and every time, smile cheekily, shake your head and say with a roll of your eyes: “No, we’re not dating. He’s not cheating, and no, this is nothing more than us being best friends. Sho is too much of a jealous person to allow for an open relationship.”

Somehow, the constant begging of approval and the erasure of any romantic connection between you and Shouto from the plethora of female students at Tokyo University wasn’t even the most annoying part of it all. No, not at all.

What really ground your nerves was a pattern you noticed when you were eighteen.

Unlike Shouto, you hadn’t had the chance to lose your virginity until you were eighteen. Most of the boys who liked you always assumed you and Shouto were dating, the ones who gathered the courage to ask you out anyways were boys you were less than impressed with. By some act of some higher god, your crush — the school's third-year baseball team's captain when you were a first-year — reappeared in your life and asked you out. It wasn’t your best decision, you can fully admit it, but he was friendly and sweet as he fucked you in his small bed.

You hadn’t expected sex to be like that, and if you had enjoyed this, you couldn’t help but wonder just how Shouto was in bed to have girls behaving like that.

However, the spell was broken when he helped you change back into your clothes, and he begged you not to tell Shouto he was the person you cheated on him with.

It was on this day that it clicked.

What went for him, unfortunately, went for you too.

Except where girls rose to the challenge to dethrone you from Shouto’s side (a shame because they were vying for a seat that you had no claim over), the boys lowered their head like some damn omega to Shouto’s alpha.

Disgusting.

Even with the plentiful, plethora, consistent denial of your relationship with Shouto, even with the tally of girls, Shouto’s bedded (and more excitedly, deflowered — ugh!) rose consistently, no one ever really believed you weren’t dating him! Too many a time, you had been centimeters from making out with a guy for them to pull away, screeching that they couldn’t allow you to betray Shouto. The men who didn’t care were sleezebags, and thus, with a growl and a snarl, you found that you were only able to fuck men who thought jackhammering their fingers into your labia — yes, your labia — would make you cum.

You didn’t want to say you hated your childhood best friend for such duplicitous, selfish reasons… but you did.

But today was Saturday, a few months into the new second semester of the school year, and with school spirit once again high and workload low. The entire campus was brimming with parties, celebrations, alcohol drinking competition, sleazy dancing, and enough sexual tension to kill all celibate people.

So, we look back to where we started.

Shishikura Seiji running away as you nestled back against Shouto’s chest.

“I didn’t think he was actually going to drink these things,” Shouto sighed, spinning the last few remaining drinks of his rosé in his hand. “It’s been in the fridge for almost five months.”

“He probably made his meatballs again and needed something terrible to blame the flavor on,” you half joke half say in complete seriousness. You were not fond of Shishikura at all, and he was not fond of you either. He had a tendency to mansplain everything, which continuously ground on your nerves, especially when he had no jurisdiction to act so confidently.

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

“I feel sorta bad,” Shouto sighs, his hand low and warm on your waist. “But I will admit, these drinks are practically like carbonated water.”

“2% alcohol,” you stress, your grin widening as you pull away from his chest to stare at him. Your gaze is bright, and his eyes are filled with amusement. “You’re either the world's lightest lightweight or a child with no tolerance to actually expect to get drunk off this shit.”

“I think you’re slurring your words already though, you sure you’re okay, lightweight?” Shouto teases, his soft smirk teasing.

“Who was the one who took three shots and passed out?” you wonder innocently, finger to your chin as if you were trying to remember.

“At least I don’t throw up when I crossfade.”

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT. MY BIOLOGY JUST HAPPENS TO WORKS THAT WAY!”

“Alright, bitch,” Shouto snorts, completely unattractively, “hurry up and get ready, yeah? We have a party we’re already late to, and we have no drinks for an actual pregame.”

You squeal excitedly, having forgotten the massive party that was being held a few blocks away. “I’ll be ready in ten!”

Typically, when you went out partying, you went with the group of eleven people you would have rather replaced Shishikura as a roommate. To get ready for said parties, you would always find yourself at Momo’s place with an outfit change, makeup bag, and hair styling items. You had made it a tradition with the other girls to get ready together. The only exceptions to which this wouldn’t happen was when someone had a work event or some family thing come up.

In your case, you had been stuck at a professor's office, diligently helping to put together their research journal as they were in their final steps of publishing their findings. Due to your friendly relationship with your professor, the time had been lost, and your ten p.m. call time to arrive at Momo’s had been missed with a quick:

↳ held up at work! go on without me, sorry! see you at the party!!!!

When you crashed through the front door of your apartment, you froze, seeing Shouto in the hallway by the mirror. Sometime between getting his haircut to be shorter and from this day, he had begun to style his hair by threading it back by his fingers, and boy, it looked fucking good. He was already dressed up for the party. Black joggers, a white t-shirt that was a bit too small if the tight, seductive way it clung to his muscles spoke of anything, and a hoodie he had no care about in case he lost it after taking it off once getting there. Shouto was practically immune to all weather types, he could be in both snow or fire without a single worry, but he knew that a large sweatshirt that smelled like him was enough to hook and line any truly desperate female.

Shouto had chuckled, taking in your frazzled state with years of practice and nudged toward the fridge, already knowing that you had missed your pregaming with the girls.

“Shishikura has two rosés left. Grab ‘em, and we can pregame together.”

But that was all unimportant and already said.

In the end, it took you thirty minutes to get ready.

You had practically smeared on your makeup, hoping the warm, crazy miscoloring would be hidden within the crazy light show the party would definitely be displaying. Your outfit consisted of a tank top that exposed your cleavage and a skirt that hugged your legs and ass just right.

You came stumbling out of your room, fingers trying to shove on your earrings, the rings on your fingers clicking loudly against each other. You smiled breathily, gratefully accepting Shouto’s sweater as you slipped on your comfortable heels at the doorway before hurrying out.

Shouto kept an arm around your shoulder the entire way out, the immense heat of his body keeping you warm as his sweater rested lazily, awkwardly, around your shoulders and arms. You didn’t want to put it entirely on to save your makeup, and in case anyone had any fucking thing to say about the show you and Shouto were putting on. Eventually, the bright and comical conversation between you and Shouto began to grow louder as the pounding of dance music began to ring in your ears. Soon enough, you passed a few drunk people, more and more, until you reached the house where the party was.

Shoving the sweatshirt into Shouto’s chest, you grinned as the smell of alcohol, weed, over-cologne men and women, the faint smell of puke, and the gross crawl of BO flooded your nose.

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

Shouto laughs at your evident piqued excitement, and after he pulls on the light blue sweatshirt, he grabs your hand, and into the overcrowded home you go.

The intense heat of overcrowded bodies on a dance floor that also makes up a drinking game floor makes you grateful for your choice of clothes. Everyone around you is already drunk, sloshed, intoxicated off their ass as unknown drinks spill from their red Solo cups, sometimes even raining down on you. You grimace as Shouto continues to pull you through. You can taste the Hennesy on your upper lip and somehow know that whoever was drinking it was a freshman with a vendetta to kill his liver and love for drinking before coming of legal age.

“What do you want to drink?” Shouto yells over the nearly obnoxiously loud music. He has his sight on the drinks counter. “Mixed or the juice?”

“Fuck me up with the jungle juice!” you yell right back, pressing to his side as two dancing (see, vigorously dry-humping) nearly trample on top of you. “Parties are meant to be a non-sober event. I need to be borderline blacked out five hours ago!”

The agreeing chuckle from Shouto isn’t heard by you at all, but you can feel his chest give a familiar vibration as finally, he pulls you from the sea of bodies to where the floor is especially wet and sticky. You’ve reached the bar area.

Grabbing your own red Solo Cup, you watch as Shouto makes his own drink. Heavy on the alcohol, light on the mixer, and a good handful of ice (he’s always liked the cold better). His hand reaches for your cup and you offer your cup up as he opens up an ice chest filled with neon-colored jungle juice.

When the drink is returned to you, the both of you cheers and take a long drink.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

“You’re finally here, you fucking slut! Getcha fat ass over here now!”

Your neck is twisted to see the absolutely plastered group of girls you considered to be your closest friends, and you laugh loudly.

“Seems like I’m needed,” you yell at Shouto, trying your best to act nonchalantly as he smiles knowingly at you. “Text me about what you decide to do if we don’t see each other?”

“Of course,” he simply responds before placing the curve of his cup back onto his lip as hands grabbed your arms and whisked you away.

In a matter of sixty minutes, you all had played five drinking games.

The girls felt it was imperative to get you to their level right away, so they started off with a game of King’s Cup. Not only was the deck rigged against you — you pulled all four of the four cards and thus had to chug four times — but you had drawn the last King and drank some weird concoction of jungle juice, a tequila shot, a vodka shot, and whatever the fucking hell Mina was drinking. How you managed to chug that and stay on your feet was beyond you, but it was without saying that you had utterly and inevitably caught up with the girls.

After the King's Cup came the Flip Cup game, your team won thankfully due to Mina’s one flip wonder as Kaminari struggled to down the shot in the cup.

After Flip Cup came Smoke or Fire, a game that had Tsuyu stuck on the bus for a record-breaking one round. No one could believe she did that.

Then came a round of Shot Roulette to end with what you were currently doing now, using a drinking card game Momo had made in her spare time to do embarrassing things at random.

Five games in an hour… you questioned if there was by any chance illegal substances in the jungle juice because it had felt like a whopping two minutes.

“It’s midnight!” Hagakure hollered, stumbling backward as she grinned in drunken, stupid happiness. She giggled before singing, “Midnight… memoriessss~!”

Mina groaned at the reference but completely perked up as the dance music changed suddenly from its slightly mellow, good vibe song to none other than Everytime We Touch by Cascada. By tradition, by applicable law by all and every god, when this one song played, everyone needed to stop what they were doing and immediately head to the dance floor.

With your hand slightly sticky with alcohol, and your mind absolutely clouded with alcohol, you whooped loudly as Mina dragged you to the dancefloor. 

You, seven girls, formed a closed circle, your Solo cups sloshing over with alcohol, and your faces scrunched tight as you danced and sang as loudly as you could. Each pounding beat of music vibrated in your chest, each offkey note sung by the party-goers making you feel light, happy, dizzy, and oh so perfectly drunk. For just a split moment, you lock eyes with Shouto, who’s across the dance floor, his arms wrapped around some girl you don’t recognize, eyes drinking you in. You smile for a bit before turning back around, arms rocketing up to the air with your excitement.

Although the song ended, the DJ continued to play bangers, and you never once stopped in your mirthful dancing and grinding against your friends as the night continued to carry on. But when you spun out from Mina, your entire world spinning with it, a pair of warm, heavy, large hands rested on your waist, and you laughed.

“Who is this?” you ask, head slamming backward to try and look at the person who had caught you yet hadn’t tried grinding against you. “Oh, Inasa? Hi!”

Yoarashi Inasa was one of your University's well-known jocks. He was a skilled runner, one of the best Japan has ever seen despite his body type telling you he was a bodybuilder. Immediately your smile of idiotic stupor became intentful, seductive, still bordering extreme intoxication. Was Inasa your type? No, not really, but you could reasonably and accurately say that he was a handsome man, with a fantastic body, not to mention a pleasant personality.

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

“Hi, y/l/n,” Inasa said, his naturally loud voice easily picked up on despite the music being blasted in your ear. “How’s your night going?”

You lick your dry lips, eyes blinking a few times before you turn in his arms, your arms stretching so that you could wrap them around his neck. “Better now that you’re here,” you smile shyly. “How’s yours.”

“Ahem,” Inasa blushes, his eyes staring straight at your cleavage before looking back up at you. “H-Hoping to get better from here! Well, I’m sure it will be.”

“Oh?” you ask, your confidence building faster and faster as you press further against him. “Anything you have in mind?” —you press your thigh suggestively against the semi-hard spot against his jeans. — “Anyway... I can... help?”

Inasa groans deep in his chest, his head knocking backward at your implications, the pleasant vibrations passing on to you. You grin, fingers scraping against the bottom of his buzzcut and bringing him closer, praying for a kiss. But as he returns his head back down, his gaze leaves yours for a split second, and you watch in horror as a sobering look washes over him.

“Actually… you’re here with some random dude, right? I don’t want to step on his toes. I thought I saw you come in with some guy; sorry y/l/n, I can’t do this.”

And just as quickly as he was against you, he was gone.

It took everything in you not to screech bloody murder over the fact that you were once again left horny with no man to take responsibility for it.

Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party With Shouto: 78% Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party Without Shouto: 22%

Walking home alone, cold, and with extreme bitterness towards Yoarashi Inasa was a sadly sobering experience. By the time you collapsed onto your bed, you were only slightly buzzed, boarding sobriety while not being sober exactly.

Fuck men.

Fuck their cowardness over a nonexistent romantic/sexual relationship between you and Shouto.

But also… you really wanted to fuck men right now.

The slicked horniness of the potential thought of bedding Inasa had made its unignorable appearance via your soaked panties. You hated yourself, hated your biological needs and lusts.

“I’ll wring Shouto’s neck in front of all of them next time,” you grumble to yourself. “Stage a fake breakup for an imaginary thing…”

Nestling further into your pillows, your eyes closed, body relaxing against the bed when a peculiar sound seemed to echo in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Your eyes slammed open, your jaw-dropping at the very obvious, entirely embarrassing sound of Shouto having sex on his desk sounded in your room! Of course it sounded in your room. His desk was pressed to your wall because that would mean whenever he was his icky womanizer self, you wouldn’t have to hear anything! Your rooms were soundproof but apparently not movement proof.

The thwack of the wood desk slammed against the wall, and with your ear so close to the wall, you began to hear the shaky, intense breathing of Shouto. The whines, keens, and screams of the girl he was fucking as she begged for more. Sobbing that his cock was too much for her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Your panties soaked even more, and with a brain that somehow retracted back into its state of stupor, your fingers brushed against your swollen, ready clit.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong, you thought, the sounds of pitched whining against the stupidly impressive, steady, consistent fucking.

Your mind was a drunken fever. 

Your eyes closed not all the way, yet blind to the wall before you as your finger danced and teased against your demanding clit.

You whined softly, matching the groaning of Shouto, who banged something other than the desk into the wall.

For a moment, just this once, you wanted to be the one desperately clinging to Shouto’s back, hips snapping and circling in tandem to his, allowing him to drill his cock deep within you. Your back arched, heat reaching your toes, buzzing filling your lips.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Todoroki!” the girl screamed, begged, and prayed. “Oh my god, yes, yes yes, right there, right the— mmph!”

You find your teeth sinking into your fist, trying to keep your pounding, horny induced brain from crying out. You wanted to know what he was doing to her, if he had kissed her silent, shoved his fingers in her mouth. Maybe he had fucked her so good she couldn’t possibly say more.

There is nothing from Shouto you can hear, no noises of praise, nothing except the occasional ragged breath that seems to permeate through the walls and whisper sweetly, teasingly, like a succumbs in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It increases, in noise, the wall separating your room from his beginning to rattle, shake in his conquest.

Your fingers are wet, entirely slippery with your conquest, your hips thrashing against your touch, clinging to a phantom memory of the last male you had managed to fuck. Then, as your stomach trembles with the orgasm that's mere seconds from blessing you with a release, you hear him—Shouto.

“Fuck.”

It’s not much. If anything, this girl should be so embarrassed she hasn’t been able to elicit a loud response from Shouto, but it’s a verbal gift from heaven above for you. His voice, tight, husky, drenched with a driving lust, whispers to you and only you, wrapping you in this blanket of solitude and need. 

With your back arching from the mattress, your hips leaving the soft surface, and your jaw growing slack, your moan is silent, unheard by no one but the heavens as you cum. Heat floods throughout your entire body, tickling and twirling in you until you can’t do anything but shudder, shaking as you fall back down on your bed, dizzy and completely satisfied. 

You don’t think about it.

Don’t try to unpack just what happened right now because the reality that you had just masturbated to the sound of your childhood best friend fucking some random girl is a bit too much. Even for you.

So you don’t think about it, and soon the thudding of the desk on the wall is nothing but a drumming lullaby, and sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, you don’t remember what you did.

You get up and trudge to the bathroom, your party clothes abandoned completely so that you’re wearing nothing but a large shirt you had stolen from Shouto years ago. You scratch your belly as you walk into the bathroom, eyes caked with your sleep still as you begin brushing your teeth.

As you brush your teeth, you begin to take off last night's makeup — well, whatever remained of it.

Spitting out the last foamy remains of the paste from your mouth, you rinsed your mouth before washing your skin. You looked much more awake now. Slapping your cheeks in an encouraging, ‘im a functional human adult taking part in some random face wash commercial,’ you exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen. 

Shishikura was already in the kitchen, his face expressionless, entirely dead to the world as he scooped some rice into a bowl and topped it off with some eggs.

“Morning,” you yawn, arms stretching over your head as you near closer to your unwanted roommate.

Shishikura sneers at you, but even he was more polite in the morning, sometimes.

“I heard the both of you get back last night,” Shishikura mocked, slamming the lid to his rice cooker with an unimpressed scowl. “You were thirty minutes apart. You know, if you two still want to be partying like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, do it respectfully.”

Your smile back at him is as fake as he is, and you refuse to move out of the way as he tries to walk back to his room. He growls — gross? — and sidesteps you, grumbling the entire way back to his room as you roll your eyes at his retreating form.

What a child.

You entered the kitchen, fixing up your own things for breakfast.

Kettle brewing hot water for tea, rice cooker on for your own rice (you make enough for Shouto too), and you begin cooking some ham and eggs, readying yourself for a Sunday for going to the library and studying. You hummed to yourself, your phone plugged into the speaker as your music filled the quiet morning air.

You bobbed your head in rhythm with the music, your eyes concentrating on slowly cooking eggs as you poured the hot water from your kettle into the teacup. As you placed your teabag in, you looked up to the sound of a creaking door and grinned wickedly as a girl with light blue hair walked out of the hall you and Shouto’s room were in.

Her dress was rumbled, a few blooming red and purple marks sitting prettily on her collarbone, and her face flushed red as she began to scurry out.

“Bye!” you call out, laughing at the scared eep from the girl and the disgruntled groan from Shouto’s room.

You set down your tea, flipping the eggs in the pan as you heard more shuffling before finally, Shouto made his appearance. He was in nothing but grey sweatpants that sat so low on his waist you could not only see the band of his boxer-briefs, but you were entirely aware of the v-lines, the abs, the pecs, and the small happy trail from his belly button down. You also noted that there was not a single mark on his body, and you wondered if he had ever taken a single mark from a one-night fuck before.

God really cursed you with an objectively attractive best friend, huh.

“Morning, slut,” you sing, noticing with happiness that your rice cooker sang a merry tune, indicating that the rice was done. “Breakfast?”

“Mm,” Shouto grumbled, his hands rubbing his face as he trudged closer to the kitchen, taking a spot on one of the stools. “Depends. Did you make it?”

“...I always make it.”

“I think I like Shishikura’s breakfast better.”

Silence.

You glare at Shouto, and in turn, his lips press to a comfortable, teasing smile.

“Fend for your damn self then.”

Shouto laughed loudly as you began to stubbornly fix yourself a bowl of both your servings. You ate far less than he did, but still enough to fill you until after three pm, so the size of your bowl was hysterical. 

“You’re such a horrible wife-roommate,” Shouto accuses, standing up from the stool and entering the kitchen to try and persuade you otherwise to give him his own food. “And here I thought that you liked cooking for me.”

“Go tell your stupid wife-roommate Shishikura instead,” you cry loudly, the faux sniffles from you stupidly fake as you begin to shovel a mouthful of rice and eggs into your mouth. “I’m shwure you’chll beh happ t’gther!”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, y/l/n,” Shouto accuses, his nose scrunching as he traps you in his arms, mouth trying to intercept the food moving from your bowl and into your mouth. 

With another desire to prove how unsatisfied in your roommate-marriage you were, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue full of uneaten, partially chewed rice.

“Ea’ eh!” you mocked, your grin growing as Shouto’s initial instinct was to whip his head away from you.

But as always, because Shouto enjoyed being incredibly annoying, he went after your tongue, readying to eat the chewed-up food off your very tongue. 

Eventually, you gave Shouto back his part of the breakfast, laughing as the both of you chatted about who was going to repay Shishikura for the used rosés. Neither one of you could decide, and so it was something to be solved later. Noon, however, came and with a nod, you accepted Shouto’s hug goodbye, to which you twisted his nose triumphantly as you waddled out of the front door, clothed in your winter gear, textbooks, and laptop,

It was time to brave the world and get this paper done.

“Mina, I mean… absolutely no offense when I say this, but it still shocks me every time you say you’re a chemistry major. You just seem so…”

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta be some kind of stupid to willingly take inorganic chem,” Mina laughed, balancing her textbooks on her head as the both of you climbed the stairwell to the library’s study rooms. “That's why I have the dance minor! Best of both worlds!”

“Could never forget about that,” you laughed as the both of you neared the top of the stairwell.

You didn’t mean to notice him. As a matter of fact, most of your failed conquests at parties never amounted to much anger from you, but seeing Inasa from across the way, his face buried in some aerodynamics textbook, anger boiled in you. On the way to meeting with Mina, you had realized your mistake last night and how you wouldn’t have made said mistake if it hadn’t been for Inasa! You could’ve been dicked down, slammed against your bed and wall as the giant of a man fucked you!

“I’ll be right back,” you sneered, eyes narrowing as you passed your textbook to Mina.

With fire following in ever long, powerful stride, you blinked and immediately found yourself before Inasa.

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

Inasa reacted as if you had shot him, his knees coming up to hit the table, his body knocking backward, and he tumbled, crashing to the floor as you watched with a gaping mouth.

“Y-Y/L/N!” Inasa shouted, his face going through half a billion emotions before settling in anxiety-filled fear. You watched, horrified yourself, as he swung to his knees, his head crashing to the floor as he began apologizing to you. “GOODMORNING, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!”

“Pipe it down, Inasa!” you hiss, your cheeks flooding with embarrassed heat as you garnered the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to talk!”

“Aha, yes, of course!” Inasa laughs, a full belly laugh. He sits up and you freeze seeing the bloodied cut on his forehead. He stands up, completely unaffected by the gash on his forehead, and uprights his chair before sitting comfortably. “How can I help you?”

“What happened to you last night?” you try again, eyebrow raised, arms crossed definitely and awkwardly because yeah… you were confronting a guy who didn't want to sleep with you. “You were into me and then suddenly wasn’t.”

Inasa laughs more, although nothing you said, implied, or did was even remotely funny.

Irritation runs through your veins.

“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.

“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”

“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.

You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.

Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?

“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”

“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”

“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”

“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.

“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”

Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.

“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”

Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”

Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.

Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.

Once he left, you felt light again.

Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.

Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.

“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”

“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”

“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”

Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”

“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”

“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”

“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”

“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!” 

“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”

“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.

“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”

His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.

“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”

It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.

Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.

Your friends had noticed immediately.

The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.

You could care less right now.

You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!

But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.

Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.

“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.

“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider. 

Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.

“Fine.”

How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.

“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”

Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.

“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”

“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”

You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.

Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.

“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.

Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.

“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”

“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.

“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.

The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.

“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”

-

As time does, it moves forward.

It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.

“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.

For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.

That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.

But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.

For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.

“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”

“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.

“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”

Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.

You grin.

“Obviously.”

And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.

“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.

“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.

“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”

“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”

“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”

“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”

You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.

You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.

But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.

It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!

But why did you?

Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.

You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.

You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.

The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.

“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.

Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.

The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.

You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.

“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.

Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.

“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.

“Hm?”

Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.

Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.

“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”

“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.

The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.

It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.

“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.

“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.

“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”

You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.

“What?”

“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”

His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.

“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”

“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”

Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.

After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.

“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”

You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.

But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.

It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.

The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.

As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.

His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.

He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.

Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.

But even as your world froze, the music continued on.

Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.

He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.

Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.

It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.

His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.

“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.

“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.

It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.

You were breathless.

No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.

This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.

He needed you.

Just you.

Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.

With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.

Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.

“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”

“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”

And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.

“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”

His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.

His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.

It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.

Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.

“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.

The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.

“Mine.”

You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.

“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.

“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”

Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.

“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.

It takes your breath away.

Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.

The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.

Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.

Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”

Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.

“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”

“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”

Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.

But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.

His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.

Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.

In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.

From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.

“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.

“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”

You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.

His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.

You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.

And Shouto?

Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.

You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.

“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.

The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.

Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.

Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.

“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”

With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.

“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”

You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.

Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.

“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.

“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”

“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”

With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”

Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”

The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.

Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.

Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”

You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”

You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.

“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”

Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.

His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.

He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.

“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”

You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.

“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”

His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.

Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.

Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.

P R E S E N T

To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.

“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.

“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”

“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”

“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.

It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.

“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Now that shocks you.

Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.

“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”

“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”

“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”

“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.

“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto’s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”

“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”

“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.

He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”

“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”

Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.

“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”

You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.

“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”

“Crybaby?”

“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”

If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.

One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.

Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.

Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.

Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.

Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.

To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.

The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.

But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.

Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.

No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.

It was intimate, romantic even.

Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWELVE || TO YOU, SOMEDAY

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi  kugisaki nobara (mention of zenin maki) from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 15 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.9k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : narrow-minded

↳ next episode : tomorrow

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, i can’t wait to get to the kyoto exchange arc in this series because i am on the low, losing ideas with theses episodes - this is what happens when you don’t plan in advance guys ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ moving on from that, i hope you enjoy today’s episode and enjoy the friendship between Y/N, Fushiguro and Kugisaki ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode..

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

In one’s own good time, your eyes begin to open only for you to suddenly cover them with the back of your hand due to the bright lighting that concealed your sight for a second before you separated your fingers to let some of the light pass through the gaps to let you adjust.

From what you could observe between your fingers, the sky from above seemed to display itself as if it was the reflection of the ocean that was down below on Earth since it was just a solid clear blue as if a painter decided that one colour was enough for their masterpiece while there was weirdly not a single cloud in sight.

It seemed too artificial for you.

However, for some odd reason, you felt weirdly strange. Even though you had just woken up from a nap, your body wasn’t as stiff as how it usually was when you would wake up, Fushiguro and Kugisaki could back you up on that fact since they always see you stretching for some time before proceeding to train again when Zenin called for you.

“Wait, where are they?” you muttered before you quickly sat up from your previous position to discover that your classmates were not right beside you under the tree where you three usually sat while taking a break from training, causing you to slowly look up to unexpectedly widening your eyes once you noticed the scenery around you.

At this moment in time, you seemed to be in a whole different location from what you remembered being at as you frantically turned your body around side to side to observe everything around you right now. Surrounding you was a vast field of purple hyacinths leading you to become completely perplexed on where you were and how you managed to get here while being asleep.

Steadily, you got up on your feet as you continued to examine your current surroundings only to discover that the only thing you could see was the blooming flowers that were surrounding you. Quickly, you looked up to finally notice there was no sun that was brightening up the sky and the area you were in, causing you to become more frantic as each second goes by.

“Where am I?” you questioned yourself in a whisper before finally turning back to face forward only to widen your eyes once again as your body began to lightly shake at the sight in front of you.

“Mother?” you quietly called out in utter disbelief at the display in front of you.

Although, it seemed like she wasn’t going to answer you at all. She was just standing there, letting the wind brush against the both of you while a few purple petals danced around you both leading you to become more puzzled than you originally were.

“Mother, it’s me,” you stated out slightly louder, thinking that you were maybe too quiet for her to hear you, only to receive the exact response that you had in the beginning. On the other hand, it seemed like the person in front of you had other ideas as the woman you assumed to be your mother started to take a step forward, yet you decided to take one step back slowly.

However, your mother continued to slowly and leisurely keep walking towards you as your footing was unexplainably now fixed onto the ground, as if vines grow out to hold them still, not knowing what to do since you weren’t even sure where to even go. There was nothing around you but purple hyacinths softening the situation that was happening, but that didn’t ease your nervousness that was sprouting within your stomach.

Without warning, your mother now stood in front of you with a deadpan expression painted on her face (void of all emotions) as her hand steadily reached down to grab a handful of the violet flowers that was enclosing you both causing you to reciprocate the same action before you both rapidly swang your arm around before suddenly pausing once you shockingly realised that your katana was now in your hand rather than the flowers your pulled out, leading your breath to halt in shock before shivering, once again, at a tiny cold feeling slyly being placed on your neck leading your eyes to shift slightly to the other side to discover a blade being pressed upon your flesh, leading you to look at your mother once again with a mix of doubt and bewilderment.

“What’s going on?” you asked with a hint of pleading within your shaken voice, only to unexpectedly spot a lone tear falling down upon her cheek catching you by surprise while a soft smile gradually appeared on your mother’s face.

“I’m so sorry…” your mother muttered with a hint of regret, leading you to become more puzzled only for that emotion to suddenly disintegrate the moment your mother violently slashed down upon your neck.

                                              ꕥ

Suddenly, your eyes widen in fear as your body immediately shoots up in pure shock as you attempt to catch your breath while frantically placing your hand on the side of your neck where your mother assumingly slashed with her blade if it was a real situation.

“Gojo!” someone called out, causing you to look up to see Fushiguro and Kugisako running towards you with worried expressions on their faces to which lead you to begin looking around the area to recognise your now familiar surroundings as the massive field purple hyacinths were nowhere to be seen.

“What’s wrong?” Kugisaki asked in a panic as she crouched down to your level, leading you to look at her before exhaling really slowly to calm your rapid heart as well as your linger shock at what just occurred in your dream.

“Sorry, I just had a really bad dream, that’s all,” you answered with a small smile, hoping that would ease her anxious face to which it slightly did. However, you knew it wasn’t enough to fully remove the feeling that your classmate had within her stomach.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Fushiguro asked, only for you to turn to look at him before shaking your head as you then steadily processed to lay back down on to the grass as your head landed on your track top that you were using as a pillow.

“Does your neck hurt?” Fushiguro questioned you once again, as he placed a hand on top of the one that was currently pressing against it leading you to shake your head once again, before placing the same hand back down onto your stomach.

Fushiguro and Kugisaki eyed you suspiciously before taking the decision to sit beside you keeping you company since it seemed like you really needed it right now, even if you didn’t mention it to them. 

When they saw you sprung up from your sleeping position, they assumed that you had woken up and was ready to train with them again since Zenin gave you a break due to you fighting all of them consecutively with the individual as well as team combat fights since they really needed to replicate the situations that would likely happen in the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event. However, the second they noticed the pure shock and horror that was painted upon your face, Fushiguro and Kugisaki instantly knew something was wrong.

Although, what they had learnt from being with you for the past few weeks to nearly two months was that you were quite the reserved person and never really wanted to display any vulnerability to anyone - even those you considered teammates/comrades - and to be honest, you were an expert on hiding every emotion that showcased any kind of emotion that made you feel unprotected. 

It was just that this one time you lowered your guard.

To them right now, that was what you were doing. You were just peering at the green leaves above you with an emotionless expression as it seems you were in a trance. 

What were you thinking? Were you okay? What was the dream about? How can we help?

That was what they wanted to ask you, yet they knew you were never going to give them the answers that they wanted, you were the type that would help others but didn’t allow them to help you. It was as if you didn’t want to rely on them...but why?

As she continued to think about the possibilities of what seemed to be your trust issues, Kugisaki couldn’t help but shift her body forward before gradually lowering herself to lay next to you as if she was going to take a nap, causing Fushiguro to look at her in confusion.

“Gojo, you know...being with you is quite amazing and it’s so much fun since we’re the only girls in our year, I feel a bit bad for Maki-san,” Kugisaki rambled before turning her head to face your direction, only to see you still looking at the same direction. “I wanted to thank you for training me since I know I have gotten so much better with your guidance, but I want you to rely on me as well,” Kugisaki mentioned with a bright smile as she turned back to look at the leaves above the both of you.

‘Rely on...’ you thought, as you continued to stare upwards.

“Oh! We should get some bubble tea tomorrow since we have an off day tomorrow, right? You know the one we saw when we went shopping last week, I wonder how it tastes,” Kugisaki suggested, leading you to give a side glance before slowly letting the corners of your lips lift up slightly to form a small smile.

‘Talking away to make me forget huh?’

“Sure, I don’t mind,” you quietly answered as you processed to close your eyes once again, surprising Fushiguro and Kugisaki as they didn’t expect you to talk at all. However, before they could even get another word in, they noticed that your eyes were shut causing them to wonder if you were going to back sleep or were just closing them for the sake of closing them.

During this time, Fushiguro decided that he would do the same as he steadily moved his body forward before laying down once he ensured that he had enough space for his back, joining you and Kugisaki in your relaxing session.

However, as your classmates were resting with the gentle winds breezing by with the sunlight giving some warmth from the cold, they didn’t notice how your hand was gradually going back to your neck as internal dread slowly crept its way up to your whole body.

‘To you, what am I now mother?’ you asked internally as you casually opened your eyes again, only to notice that you were still at the Jujutsu Tech track field - slowly coming to the fact that this wasn’t another dream and you were really back.

‘Someday...will I never get that answer?’ you questioned yourself once again as your finger brushed along the skin of where the slash would have been leading to slight shivers to travel down your back as if your body remembered the feeling of her blade slicing down your neck.

Steadily, you processed to close your eyes again, enclosing yourself into the darkness that you were somewhat fearful of going back into again. However, there was no other way you could get away from the real world right now.

Yet, a single tear welled up in your eyes as it then proceeded to drop down to the side, just like how your mother was in that dream.

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[littlemixnet]

To me, a good ally is someone who is consistent in their efforts – there’s a difference between popping on a pride playlist or sprinkling yourself in rainbow glitter once a year and actually defending LGBT+ people against discrimination. It means showing my LGBT+ fans that I support them wholeheartedly and am making a conscious effort to educate myself, raise awareness and show up whenever they need me to. It would be wrong of me to benefit from the community as a musician without actually standing up and doing what I can to support. As someone in the public eye, it’s important to make sure your efforts are not performative or opportunistic. I’m always working on my allyship and am very much aware that I’ve still got a lot of unlearning and learning to do. There are too many what I call ‘dormant allies’, believing in equality but not really doing more than liking or reposting your LGBT+ mate’s content now and again. Imagine if that friend then saw you at the next march, or signing your name on the next petition fighting for their rights? Being an ally is also about making a conscious effort to use the right language and pronouns, and I recently read a book by Glennon Doyle who spoke of her annoyance and disappointment of those who come out and are met with ‘We love you…no matter what’. I’d never thought of that expression like that before and it really struck a chord with me. ‘No matter what’ suggests you are flawed. Being LGBT+ is not a flaw. Altering your language and being conscious of creating a more comfortable environment for your LGBT+ family and friends is a good start. Nobody is expecting you to suddenly know it all, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a perfect ally. I’m still very much learning. Even recently, after our Confetti music video I was confronted with the fact that although we made sure our video was incredibly inclusive, we hadn’t brought in any actual drag kings. Some were frustrated, and they had every right to be. You can have the right intentions and still fall short. As an open ally I should have thought about that, and I hadn’t, and for that I apologise. Since then I’ve been doing more research on drag king culture, because it’s definitely something I didn’t know enough about, whether that was because it isn’t as mainstream yet mixed with my own ignorance. But the point is we mess up, we apologise, we learn from it and we move forward with that knowledge. Don’t let the fear of f**king up scare you off. And make sure you are speaking alongside the community, not for the community. Growing up in a small Northern working-class town, some views were, and probably still are, quite ‘old fashioned’ and small-minded. I witnessed homophobia at an early age. It was a common thought particularly among men that it was wrong to be anything but heterosexual. I knew very early on I didn’t agree with this, but wasn’t educated or aware enough on how to combat it. I did a lot of performing arts growing up and within that space I had many LGBT+ (mainly gay) friends. I’ve been a beard many a time let me tell you! But it was infuriating to see friends not feel like they could truly be themselves. When I moved to London I felt incredibly lonely and like I didn’t fit in. It was my gay friends (mainly my friend and hairstylist, Aaron Carlo) who took me under their wing and into their world. Walking into those gay bars or events like Sink The Pink, it was probably the first time I felt like I was in a space where everyone in that room was celebrated exactly as they are. It was like walking into a magical wonderland. I got it. I clicked with everyone. My whole life I struggled with identity – being mixed race for me meant not feeling white enough, or black enough, or Arab enough. I was a ‘tomboy’ and very nerdy. I suppose on a personal level that maybe played a part in why I felt such a connection or understanding of why those spaces for the LGBT+ community are so important. One of the most obvious examples of first realising Little Mix was having an effect in the community was that I couldn’t enter a gay bar without hearing a Little Mix song and watching numerous people break out into full choreo from our videos! I spent the first few years of our career seeing this unfold and knowing the LGBT+ fan base were there, but it wasn’t until I got my own Instagram or started properly going through Twitter DMs that I realised a lot of our LGBT+ fans were reaching out to us on a daily basis saying how much our music meant to them. I received a message from a boy in the Middle East who hadn’t come out because in his country homosexuality is illegal. His partner tragically took their own life and he said our music not only helped him get through it, but gave him the courage to start a new life somewhere else where he could be out and proud. There are countless other stories like theirs, which kind of kickstarted me into being a better ally. Another standout moment would be when we performed in Dubai in 2019. We were told numerous times to ‘abide by the rules’, which meant not promoting anything LGBT+ or too female-empowering (cut to us serving a four-part harmony to Salute). In my mind, we either didn’t go or we’d go and make a point. When Secret Love Song came on, we performed it with the LGBT+ flag taking up the whole screen behind us. The crowd went wild, I could see fans crying and singing along in the audience and when we returned it was everywhere in the press. I saw so many positive tweets and messages from the community. It made laying in our hotel rooms s**tting ourselves that we’d get arrested that night more than worth it. It was through our fans and through my friends I realised I need to be doing more in my allyship. One of the first steps in this was meeting with the team at Stonewall to help with my ally education and discussing how I could be using my platform to help them and in turn the community. Right now, and during lockdown, I’d say my ally journey has been a lot of reading on LGBT+ history, donating to the right charities and raising awareness on current issues such as the conversion therapy ban and the fight for equality of trans lives. Stonewall is facing media attacks for its trans-inclusive strategies and there is an alarming amount of seemingly increasing transphobia in the UK today and we need to be doing more to stand with the trans community. Still, there is definitely a pressure I feel as someone in the public eye to constantly be saying and doing the right things, especially with cancel culture becoming more popular. I s**t myself before most interviews now, on edge that the interviewer might be waiting for me to ‘slip up’ or I might say something that can be misconstrued. Sometimes what can be well understood talking to a journalist or a friend doesn’t always translate as well written down, which has definitely happened to me before. There’ve been moments where I’ve (though well intentioned) said the wrong thing and had an army of Twitter warriors come at me. Don’t get me wrong, there are obviously more serious levels of f**king up that are worthy of a cancelling. But it was quite daunting to me to think that all of my previous allyship could be forgotten for not getting something right once. When that’s happened to me before I’ve scared myself into thinking I should STFU and not say anything, but I have to remember that I am human, I’m going to f**k up now and again and as long as I’m continuing to educate myself to do better next time then that’s OK. I’m never going to stop being an ally so I need to accept that there’ll be trickier moments along the way. I think that might be how some people may feel, like they’re scared to speak up as an ally in case they say the wrong thing and face backlash. Just apologise to the people who need to be apologised to, and show that you’re doing what you can to do better and continue the good fight. Don’t burden the community with your guilt. When it comes to the music industry, I’m definitely seeing a lot more LGBT+ artists come through and thrive, which is amazing. Labels, managements, distributors and so forth need to make sure they’re not just benefiting from LGBT+ artists but show they’re doing more to actually stand with them and create environments where those artists and their fans feel safe. A lot of feedback I see from the community when coming to our shows is that they’re in a space where they feel completely free and accepted, which I love. I get offered so many opportunities to do with LGBT+ based shows or deals and while it’s obviously flattering, I turn most of them down and suggest they give the gig to someone more worthy of that role. But really, I shouldn’t have to say that in the first place. The fee for any job I do take that feels right for me but has come in as part of the community goes to LGBT+ charities. That’s not me blowing smoke up my own arse, I just think the more of us and big companies that do that, the better. We need more artists, more visibility, more LGBT+ mainstream shows, more shows on LGBT+ history and more artists standing up as allies. We have huge platforms and such an influence on our fans – show them you’re standing by them. I’ve seen insanely talented LGBT+ artist friends in the industry who are only recently getting the credit they deserve. It’s amazing but it’s telling that it takes so long. It’s almost expected that it will be a tougher ride. We also need more understanding and action on the intersectionality between being LGBT+ and BAME. Racism exists in and out of the community and it would be great to see more and more companies in the industry doing more to combat that. The more we see these shows like Drag Race on our screens, the more we can celebrate difference. Ever since I was a little girl, my family would go to Benidorm and we’d watch these glamorous, hilarious Queens onstage; I was hooked. I grew up listening to and loving the big divas – Diana Ross (my fave), Cher, Shirley Bassey, and all the queens would emulate them. I was amazed at their big wigs, glittery overdrawn make-up and fabulous outfits. They were like big dolls. Most importantly, they were unapologetically whoever the f**k they wanted to be. As a shy girl who didn’t really understand why the world was telling me all the things I should be, I almost envied the queens but more than anything I adored them. Drag truly is an art form, and how incredible that every queen is different; there are so many different styles of drag and to me they symbolise courage and freedom of expression. Everything you envisioned your imaginary best friend to be, but it’s always been you. There’s a reason why the younger generation are loving shows like Drag Race. These kids can watch this show and not only be thoroughly entertained, but be inspired by these incredible people who are unapologetically themselves, sharing their touching stories and who create their own support systems and drag families around them. Now and again I think of when I’d see those Queens in Benidorm, and at the end they’d always sing I Am What I Am as they removed their wigs and smudged their make up off, and all the dads would be up on their feet cheering for them, some emotional, like they were proud. But that love would stop when they’d go back home, back to their conditioned life where toxic heteronormative behaviour is the status quo. Maybe if those same men saw drag culture on their screens they’d be more open to it becoming a part of their everyday life. I’ll never forget marching with Stonewall at Manchester Pride. I joined them as part of their young campaigners programme, and beforehand we sat and talked about allyship and all the young people there asked me questions while sharing some of their stories. We then began the march and I can’t explain the feeling and emotion watching these young people with so much passion, chanting and being cheered by the people they passed. All of these kids had their own personal struggles and stories but in this environment, they felt safe and completely proud to just be them. I knew the history of Pride and why we were marching, but it was something else seeing what Pride really means first hand. My advice for those who want to use their voice but aren’t sure how is, just do it hun. It’s really not a difficult task to stand up for communities that need you. Change can happen quicker with allyship.

Jade Thirlwall on the power, and pressures, of being an LGBT ally: ‘I’m gonna f**k up now and again’

[beelsnack]

Bad Influence - Beelsnack's 666 Follower Special!!

(Technically I'm over 666 - shoutout to the porn bots)

But seriously, holy shit, there's a lot of you. Thank you all so much for liking my stuff, and for interacting with me and sending me good vibes and all of that. I hope I can keep giving you guys quality work!!

And yes, I am a nerd and I consider 666 a milestone for a blog for a bunch of demons. No, I'm not sorry.

-----

Lucifer: He couldn’t help but wonder when the change had set in.

When the human first arrived in the Devildom, they had been humble and meek. If anyone complimented them, they deflected it with the mastery and resignation of someone who had been doing it for far longer than they should have. And if someone thanked them? You would think their entire world was dissolving around them.

But now?

He extended a gloved hand towards them as they descended the stairs. Tonight was one of the rare nights where they had the opportunity to be alone without one of his brothers tagging along, and they had been planning this date for nearly a week now. They slipped their hand in his without any of the hesitation they would have shown at first. They knew they deserved his reverence.

“You look radiant as always, my dear,” he curled his fingers around theirs as they reached the bottom step, bringing the backs of their knuckles to his lips. “Surely there is no star in the sky that could outshine you.”

They laughed - his theatrics always did amuse them. “You do have amazing taste, after all.”

He chuckled as well, guiding the two of them to the front door. “Of course. Do you think the Avatar of Pride would associate with anyone less than the best?”

“Definitely not,” the wind that came through the door when they opened it blew their hair away from their face, and Lucifer couldn’t help but preen at the fact that he had helped that quivering little animal grow into the proud swan that stood before him.

“Speaking of the best, where are we going for dinner?”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he laughed as they made their way out into the night. “You deserve the world, and the world you shall get.”

“Unless ‘the world’ means a steak dinner, I’m not interested.”

Mammon: “Come on, don’t leave me hangin’ out here!”

The curtain covering the entrance to the changing room rustled, and Mammon heard a faint “Fine, fine, just give me a sec!” before it finally opened and out stepped the human.

Mammon always thought they looked good no matter what they were wearing, even if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. Actually, especially if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. But seeing them decked out in his fashion brand - one he had both designed and modeled - was definitely making him feel some type of way.

He let out a low whistle when they stopped in front of the chair he had seated himself in. The results of his own shopping spree were tucked haphazardly into a colorful assortment of bags at his feet, but the human had taken a bit longer than he did picking out their stuff. And damn, was he glad they did, because otherwise he wouldn’t get the chance to see them modeling his clothes.

It was a private fashion show, just for him.

The outfit itself was pretty simple. A black fitted tee beneath a cropped leather jacket, a pair of faded dark-blue skinny jeans, and a pair of black sneaks with a gold stripe going up the side. But the thing that brought the whole outfit together was the long necklace with a topaz pendent resting against their breastbone.

“Well?” they asked, giving him a spin before striking a pose before him. “What do you think?”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The human wearing his clothes...it was the next best thing to them walking around with “I Belong To Mammon” tattooed on their forehead.

“I, uh...I guess you...um,” he swallowed thickly. “Ya look alright, I guess.”

“That’s tsundere for ‘you look hot,’ right?” they grinned before spinning around to look in the mirror. “Man, this is a whole look! I have to have it!”

If this had been a few months ago, the human would have waffled back and forth about whether or not to buy anything. It didn’t matter how much they wanted something, it was almost like they just couldn’t do anything nice for themselves. There was being frugal, and then there was deprivation. Now, though, was completely different.

“I wonder if I should get some shades to go with?” they mumbled, looking themselves over in the mirror. “I think that would really pull it together, don’t you?”

“Just don’t go for the Ray Bans, it’s a fucking scam.”

Leviathan: "Come on, come on, come on…"

Very rarely was Levi the one watching someone else play games, unless it was a stream. And as mind-blowingly awesome it would be to watch the human stream one of his current faves, he definitely didn't want other people seeing how adorable they looked when they were focused.

They had come to him with absolute determination in their eyes, begging him to help them out. There were a limited amount of UR armor sets in the event, and they needed to get their hands on one. And, well, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't help them out?

(The fact that he already scored the armor is irrelevant.)

So, here they were, camped out in the pillow nest that they often made for themselves when gaming in his room, laser focused on the screen with Levi giving them guidance. The event level was brutal, but they were in the final hours, so it was crunch time.

"Okay, this boss is easy once you know the attack pattern. Four regular slashes, a jab, then you've got about five seconds to get behind a pillar before it uses the AOE."

"Gotcha."

Even then, it was a long battle, and they had used up most of their healing potions by the time the monster let out an anguished roar and disintegrated into a pile of bones. The human held their breath as they moved towards it to gather their loot.

"Yes!!"

They practically leaped out of the pillow nest in triumph. There, right on the top of the loot list in shimmering gold font, and the UR armor that they had been coveting.

"I got it! I got it!" they cheered. "Levi, I finally got it!"

"Hell yeah you did!" the two of them shared a crisp high five as the results of the campaign loaded on the screen. It was updating in real time, so they could watch as the final moments of the event ticked away.

Levi knew what they were looking for. Early on in the dungeon, another player had done them real dirty, sniping them from a few levels above and then taunting them over VC about how they would never get the armor now. So of course that only inspired the human to work harder, and here they were.

3...2...1

Event over. Quickly, the human scrolled up to the beginning of the list, checking the names of all the players who scored the armor.

Levi sat next to them, chewing his lip. What was that person's tag again? He didn't remember.

Suddenly, the human let out a snort that turned into a full-on giggle fit.

"They didn't get it!" they cackled like a hyena. "Serves them right, the jackass!"

Levi was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to laugh at the misfortune of others. But, he knew better than anyone that spite was a hell of a motivator. When they had first gotten themselves isekai’d into the Devildom, they had let demons walk all over them, Levi had personally witnessed a lower-level demon shove them out of the way to get a sandwich they had been reaching for, and the human just stood there and let them take it. But they had grown to be a little more selfish, and if they wanted something, they were taking it.

And maybe, just maybe, seeing them like that turned him on just a little bit.

Satan: "You want to come and say that to my face?"

Satan stood there in stunned silence as the human spun on their heel to look the demons right in the eyes. They had their back to him, so Satan couldn't see the look on their face, but whatever it was made the two lesser demons flinch.

"Hey, come on, Human, we were just joking."

"Yeah, no need to get all worked up."

They scoffed, and Satan knew them well enough to know that they were rolling their eyes. "Is that right? So you don't think I'm a...what was it? A fleshy meat sack who thinks they can get what they want by sleeping with the strongest demons in the Devildom?"

Another flinch. Satan chuckled to himself.. Did those morons really think they wouldn't hear them? Humans might not have super-heightened senses but they weren't deaf.

A small crowd had begun gathering around them, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn't every day one of the human exchange students squared up to a demon.

"You've got some nerve," the human drew themself up to their full height - which, admittedly, was laughable compared to most demons - and crossed their arms. "What do you think Lord Diavolo would do to demons who messed with his exchange students?"

"I believe there's a special spot in the Royal Torture Chambers for such demons," Satan came to stand next to them, and the other demons downright cowered. "If I recall correctly, there's an Iron Maiden down there."

"Ooh, cool!"

"Alright, we get it!" One of the demons cried, throwing their hands up defensively. "We're sorry!"

Satan opened his mouth to spit a curse at them, but the human beat him to it. "I've got Lord Diavolo on speed dial, so start running."

The two demons turned tail and booked it down the hallway, nearly crashing into Beelzebub as he turned the corner with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He stood frozen for a moment before he swallowed and turned to Satan and the human.

"Were those two bothering you guys?"

Satan cast a sideways look at the human before a wicked grin spread across his face.

"They took care of it."

Asmodeus: "Well, someone's feeling bold tonight."

The door had barely shut behind the two of them before the human was pressing Asmo against it, mouthing at his neck as their hands traveled down the front of his silk blouse. He shuddered gleefully as their breath ghosted against his ear lobe.

"I can't help it," they murmured, fingers skirting just beneath the hem of his shirt. "You looked so good out there."

"I look good all the time, darling," he hummed, reaching up to grab a fistful of hair to gently pry them away from his neck.

"You looked especially good," they huffed as he let go of their hair. "Dancing like that, I could barely wait until we got home."

"Aw, sweetheart, you should have come to join me." Asmo rolled his hips in an echo of the dancing he had been doing at the club, delighting when he felt them shiver against him. "We could have put on a show that would have captivated the whole Devildom."

"I don't think the staff would appreciate it."

"They would be too busy watching to care," Asmo giggled, diving down to capture their lips in a quick and dirty kiss. "Although I can't say I'm not thrilled to be getting a private show."

Beelzebub: “Man, this place has the best barbecue!”

Dinner dates were a pretty common thing for the two of them. Over the course of the human’s stay in the Devildom, the two of them had figured out which restaurants would put up with Beel’s appetite and which would visibly freeze when the Avatar of Gluttony entered the establishment. The Hellfire Barbecue was one of the good places, probably because Beel made sure to tip really well, and one time personally went into the kitchen to tip the chef. Or, well, he tried, anyway. He ended up giving the money to the human and told them to give it to the chef because he knew if he went in there he would devour everything. But the sentiment was still there.

Beel smiled down at the human as they wiped the barbecue sauce off of their face. “You finished all of it this time.”

“Huh?” they glanced at their plate. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You usually don’t.”

“I was really hungry, I guess.” they grinned sheepishly.

Beel distinctly remembered the human telling him that they always tried to save some food for later. Whether it was being resourceful or because they had a weird sense of shame around eating too much, Beel didn’t know, but he had never pressed in case it was a sensitive issue. But, seeing them indulge themselves and looking genuinely full and satisfied made him happy. And was probably his main motivation for taking them out to dinner so often.

Well, that and getting his own food.

“I like watching you eat.” Beel said, waving to the owner as he passed by.

“You...like watching me eat.” the human repeated, looking somewhat confused.

“You look so happy when you eat good food,” Beel smiled. “I like seeing you happy.”

Belphegor: Oh, how the tables have tabled.

“Come on, I don’t feel like dealing with Lucifer’s lectures today.” Belphie grumbled, tugging half-heartedly on the human’s arm that was flung around his waist. “We should get up soon.”

For all of his complaining, Belphie didn’t move. If anything, he snuggled down deeper into the bed. He loved when the human agreed to have a sleepover in the attic with him. They got uninterrupted cuddle and nap time, since nobody dared to come up to the attic except Beel. And Beel was almost always welcome to join the cuddle puddle.

“Five more minutes…” the human mumbled sleepily, burying their face into Belphie’s neck. The soft, contented sigh they let out tickled, and he squirmed a little.

“Aren’t you usually the one waking me up?” Belphie nuzzled his nose against their hair.

“But it’s comfy here,” they whined. “I don’t want to get up.”

“You just don’t want to do the presentation in class today.”

“Your point?”

Belphie laughed. “Can’t say I disagree.”

“I did all the hard work anyway,” they shrugged. “We’ll make Mammon give the report.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

The two of them settled back down into the nest of pillows. The human had almost drifted back to sleep when Belphie brought his nose down to theirs to nuzzle them together.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You’re cute when you shut up and let me sleep.”

[timothy-chamlet]

the afterparty - t.c. fanfic

pair: timmy x female reader

warnings: unprotected sex, general smut

word count: 2.6k (2640)

a//n: ok er ive never written for timmy before so im nervous snsvsj but if you read it tell me what u think !! <3

°•○●○•°

people often thought the two of you were dating. paparazzi tended to make it look that way through press. despite all the candid photos of you and timothée plastered in magazine spreads and floating around on blogs, he would tell people you weren't together. interviewers would ask, and time again he would put an end to the rumor by saying you weren't dating, you were just friends. 

to be fair, you honestly couldn't even be mad at him. it was a good marketing tactic, at least. if all the girls knew he was single they'd still be invested in the persona of a young, attractive starlet that - despite his more than desirable qualities - is still single. genius. meanwhile you were being his best friend and his trophy for award shows. 

it was growing on you though. you enjoyed walking red carpet events and going to extravagant parties and meeting big names in the industry. it was really a win-win for both of you. 

another one of those win-win situations was tonight. the past three days had been crazy. hair appointments, nail appointments, dress fittings, photoshoots, brunches, and dinners. running each new day on an hour of sleep - maybe two if you were lucky. fueled by energy drinks and the promise of rest after the event. showing up to an awards ceremony on nothing more than a 20 minute nap and a double shot espresso. being timothée's showpiece was exhausting. but it was good for you. 

you had just finished your last consultation for dress fittings and were on your way to your styling appointment. the dress would arrive shortly after you so everything was ready to go. things were set for timothée to meet you there in an hour or so, after his own styling. 

currently you're getting your makeup done. a swarm of professionals all around you, handing products, giving directions, telling you how gorgeous you look, at least three hands on you at all times. after almost an hour all the disembodied hands move from your face to reveal the *almost* finished product. you still need your hair done, but your face was flawless. your skin was insanely smooth; not a pore in sight, your lids were a bronze shade, and your lips were a perfect nude. 

a hair stylist soon steps into view, also admiring your makeup before diving into your hair. it was simple. a slicked back ponytail is all, careful not to draw away from your face and your dress. 

the strong aroma of hairspray clouds you as you maneuver to step into your dress. stripped of your previous clothes, you step into your dress and a couple people help you pull it up. the woman attending to the supper in the back steps away for a moment, seeming to answer a question. 

"what's his name?" she asks into her ear piece. "uh yes. she's in here with me. send him in."  

she returns behind you and does up the zipper to your dress. to your surprise, you see timothée waltz in the room. dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a light lavender button up underneath. "y/n," he exhales, walking towards you. "you look breathtaking, ma chérie." 

"you don't look too bad yourself, timmy," you say, stepping down from your pedestal to be almost eye level with him.

"is she done here?" he asks everyone around without taking his eyes off you. 

one of the women there swoops in with a pair of shoes and says, "slip in to these and you're ready to go, darling." 

you step into your shoes and link arms with timothée. "carriage awaits," he says as the two of you get escorted to the limo. 

once inside you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. "you okay?" he asks from beside you. 

"yeah, just.. tired." 

he chuckles and drops his head. "absolutely exhausted." you two had similarly scheduled days so he knows exactly how you feel. "don't worry, mon amour, i'll have you home in about 8 hours." 

"i thought the awards show was only 4-" 

"there's always the afterparty.." 

you audibly groan and drop your head as timothée places a reassuring hand on your knee. 

"we're here," he says with fake enthusiasm as the limo pulls up to the event. the past 45 minutes felt like hours as your head began to pound from the lack of sleep. yet, lucky you, 45 minutes in l.a. traffic was a miracle. 

the two of you step out into the scene. flashing lights from camera flickers, the general buzz of the crowd, people you knew trying to get your attention, people timothée knew trying to get his attention. being the kind person he is, he doesn't shy away from fans calling his name. he walks over to give high fives, say hi, sign things, and really interact with the people that are so invested in his career. you look at him with a fond smile on your face as he greets  people.  

"timothéeeee," you both hear and turn around to match the loud booming voice to a face. 

"armieee!!" he yells in response, hurrying over to hug his co-star. 

you stand idly by as the two hug and catch up. fiddling with your ponytail and the skirt of your dress. until that same voice catches your attention. 

"bring it in hot stuff!" 

"hey, armie! how've you been, handsome?" you two had only met a handful of times, but it's like your souls clicked instantly. he had kept in touch since the first time you met and you guys had been pretty close ever since. 

"oh i’m doing great. really. just excited for this evening. can't wait to see how many awards lil' tim brings in," armie ends with a light laugh before timothée chimes in. 

"oh god no-" 

a cheery voice interrupts the conversation. 

"helloooo," armie's wife says in a sing-song voice and joins his side. "nice to see you again, y/n. and congrats timmy on your nominations." 

you and timothée nod in response and utter small, nervous 'thank you's' before armie excuses the two of them, promising to catch up later. 

"well, well, well- this is it, timmy." you say from your seat next to him. the host reads the nominees for best breakthrough of the year, and timothée's name is mixed in with so many other talented actors. he nervously puts his hand over yours. "you are absolutely amazing. everyone knows that. you're gonna get it." he looks at you and you pass him a reassuring smile. 

"and the award for best breakthrough goes to… timothée chalamet!" 

his head shoots up in shock. cameras pan around him and his baffled expression appears on huge screens behind the stage. he slowly stands from his seat and makes his way to the stage. making a beautiful speech, thanking almost everyone he's ever known. giving gratitude to everyone he's ever worked with, his parents, and his best friends. he comes off the stage and returns to his seat beside you. a year runs down his cheek, and you move to wipe it away, but he grabs your hand away from his cheek only to press his lips to your knuckles. "thank you for always believing in me." 

"you're an amazing actor and an even better friend. 

the night was nearing an end. people were saying their goodbyes and their 'see-you-soon's and going their separate ways. you and timothée walk out of the event, arms linked, with his hands tightly gripping his award. the smile never leaves his face. "i can't fucking believe that, y/n."

"you did it, timmy! all you and your hard work. lemme pick a nice spot on your shelf for it yeah?" 

"i was thinking about sitting it on my dresser right above the drawer full of your shit you keep leaving at my house," he says with a barely visible smirk. 

"oh, well if it's such a problem," you begin "i guess I'll just have to come get my 'shit' then?" you finish sarcastically. 

"oh! how dare you?" he begins to shout, going on a tirade similar to that of hamlet; overly dramatic and mostly nonsensical. "leave them be! small, small remnants; reminders of thee." he trails off softly, dropping his head to your shoulder and bringing his other hand up to trail his fingertips down the side of your face. 

you can't help but chuckle at this. "bravo timothée! amazing performance." 

he straightens up before taking a bow and returning to his previous position on your shoulder. "do you wanna skip the afterparty?" 

"and do what, tim? i thought you were gonna catch up with armie?" 

"i dunno- go to my place?" 

you nod your head, and timothée let's the driver know to just go to his house. 

you get out of the car in front of his apartment, quickly thank the driver, and dash inside; excited to remove the day. "can i shower?" you ask quickly already making your way upstairs.

"oui, mon trèsor, make yourself at home. ill be up in a while." it was almost as if he had it scripted. a routine more or less. you'd ask to shower - despite him telling you almost each time you never had to ask - and go up stairs to do so; him trailing along about an hour later behind you. 

you finish your shower earlier than planned so you decide to lay on his bed until he comes up. you let your freshly washed body relish in the textures of the cotton t-shirt and shorts you're wearing and the damp-cool feel of the comforter on his bed. 

you're not left alone for long before he darts up the stairs and into his room, catching your attention. you watch as he walks around, dropping various articles of his clothing haphazardly on his floor. left in only his boxers. 

"timmy?" you ask in a drawn out voice. 

"hm?" he asks lowly in response; his eyes trained on you. you don't respond to his muffled question and instead watch as he comes to lean over the foot of the bed, by your legs. "i've been thinking," he continues, "a lot recently. about us.." 

"us?-" 

"about what the media thinks we are. what the people say. the blog posts, the tweets. i read it all… what do you think about it, y/n?" he ends with a light sigh, making drawing light swirls on your leg. 

"i dunno really. i've never thought much about it," you say sitting up. 

he moves up from his place in front of the bed, crawling up to sit to the right of your legs. knees drawn up to his chest, eyes meeting yours. he raises his hand so his fingertips ghost the curve of your cheek. "you never think about.. the possibility of us?" he pauses as his eyes drift from yours. hands falling to his lap as he scoots even closer to you. you sit stunned, not knowing how to answer as if it was some rhetoric instead of a simple question. filling the silence, he continues. "i think about how different things would be if we were together. what it would be like to hold you and kiss you and- can i kiss you?" 

his voice wavers as his eyes meet yours yet again. with quick movements, he moves to straddle your legs, both hands resting lightly on either side of your face. 

"can i kiss you?" he asks again, his face millimeters from yours. 

you shake your head yes as your eyes fluttering closed, your lips brushing against his as you move. 

he plants his lips firmly on yours. innocent at first, but the kiss quickly gets deeper. more desperate, his hands moving from the sides of your face to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back giving him access to your neck. his lips dance around the skin of your neck, being careful not to leave any marks. “is this okay?” he whispers, dragging his hands from your hair to the hem of your shirt. 

you nod your head vigorously and he pulls your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the floor with his clothes. you lean back and give timothee free reign of your chest and stomach. he makes his way from your neck down and across your chest. your hands rush to knot in his hair as he takes a nipple in his mouth, carefully flicking his tongue across the hardening bud before doing the same to the other. 

"timmy.." you breathe out as he leaves your chest and explores lower. his eyes meet yours as his teeth come into contact with the flimsy waistband of your sleep shorts. "please," you whisper. 

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs; eyes going wide when he sees you have nothing underneath. 

"so pretty," he whispers almost to himself as he throws your shorts in his floor with the rest of your guys' clothes. he runs his finger along your slit, collecting some of your wetness, tasting it. laying back down with your legs over his shoulders, he hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. he runs his tongue along your folds and you arch your back in response. he sucks on your clit making you squirm and tangle your fingers tighter in his hair, pushing against his face, eager for more. 

"tim-... timmy," you beg.

timothée kisses his way back up your body. "hm?" he hums softly beside your ear only for you to utter another weak 'please' in response. 

"please… please what, mon amour?" 

"baise moi.." you didn't know much french. you had picked up on a few of timothée's most used phrases, but this you hadn't learned from him, so it caught him off-guard. stuck in a moment of shock. hearing you say something so dirty in french felt so strangely intimate; you didn't have to ask him twice. 

he slips his boxers, finally accompanying you in nakedness, and slips into you, moaning at the feeling of you around him. 

"fuck.. timmy-" you groan as he picks up his pace. he coos sweet nothings into your ear while drilling into your core. 

his head drops to your chest and the soft, sweet praises slowly turn into obscenities. "merde," he groans, picking up his pace even more. holding himself at arms length above you, he throws his head back; lips parted in pure bliss. 

you lift one of your hands to trail down timothée's torso. you lazily drag your fingertips across his chest and down to his stomach. the pleasure building inside you, your hand finds its way to your clit. “timmy... fuck! ple- please don’t stop. fuuuuuck!” 

“défaire pour moi, y/n.” you didn’t think french could ever drive you to orgasm, but when it came from timothé anything was possible. you convulse around him as your wave of pleasure washes over you. timothée reaching his own peak soon after, pulling out and emptying on your stomach. he quickly finds something to clean you up with before plopping down on the bed beside you. many silent moments pass - nothing but heavy breaths leaving either of you - before he speaks up. “you know,” he begins in a soft whisper, “i felt bad- like i was using you. just to go to events with me. i know you don’t really like them but-” 

you cut him off and turn to face him. “i might hate going to those award shows, but they’re a little less bad with you around.” 

he breaks into a wide smile and pulls you closer, putting his head on your stomach. "mon amour, je t'ai toujours aimé." you reach down to play with his curls and begin to drift off on your way to sleep. 

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson x Reader)

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Be added to series taglist

A/N: I have finally graduated!! now I have time so I can work on this until its finished, and trust me, it won't take too long, I'll release the other chapters on a faster, more regular basis since I don't have much else to do, and cause I've had the plan and ideas for the rest of this story for so long. I thank you for your patience with me and I hope y'all love it!! And as always Ash is my savior and I love her @imagines-r-s

change in POV is signalized by:

Y/N= regular ELIAS= italics

(any other info is on the masterlist)

Warnings: cursing, Mentions of Psych, baby & baby talk, loving of dogs, goalie being essentially psychic

Words: 3.3k

Summary: some reflecting on prior events happens.

Well, it has been quite the day for you. You never would have thought anything like this could have happened. “Freaking out” isn’t strong enough to describe your current state. You need to talk to someone, god you’re so happy right now. So you call Quinn.

“Hey, Quinny!”

“Sup Y/N/N?” he answers

“I’m picking up from work, and I'm about to head home, where you will be there too, with a bottle of our favorite wine and some take-out.”

“Got it, something important happened?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” you still couldn't stop smiling.

“Ok how important, expensive wine or REALLY expensive wine?”

“Uhhh in between,” you decided.

“Ahhh ok, can't wait. See you there, bye!!”

“Bye, Huggy”

You finish packing up and text Brock to tell him that you and Quinn are having a wine night, to make sure he knows to be somewhere else.

As you’re walking out, you call Holly.

“Hey, Babe!”

“Howdy!”

“God I always forget you interned in Dallas,” she says laughing.

“You pick that shit up quickly, I’m telling you. even the Fins were saying 'y'all'"

“So what’s up?” She asks.

“Are you free tonight, cause I have some very big news so it’s a wine night.”

“Umm, let me see if Bo wants to have the guys over and watch Gunnar” you hear her call her husband and ask him. “He said sure!”

“Okie Dokie! Text Quinn that you’re coming too, so he knows to get your usual from the take-out place” you tell her.

“Will do, and Y/N/N?" she says before you hang up.

“Yep?”

“Do you want me to grab ice cream?” She asks, already knowing your answer.

“Of course!”

“Ok, see you there” she hangs up.

You drive home jamming out to your music, as everyone should. You still can’t believe what happened today. It feels like it happened last week but it also feels like you never left that break room. Hopefully, Elias won’t mind that you’re telling Quinn and Holly. As long as you tell them not to say anything to the other guys, all should be well.

Once you get home, the dogs greet you at the door, “Oh hi! Hi sweeties! Oh yes, yes hi Coolieee, oh you’re such a cutie,” you drop your bags and get down on your knees to get on their level. When you get on your knees, Milo knows it means you want him to hug you, so he hops up and puts his paws on your shoulders. “Hi, hi, hi, oh thank you for the hugs. Oh yes auntie loves you soooooo much mmwwaaa”

Quinn is there and has everything set up and ready to go, so you change into your sweats and grab your blanket, and sit next to Quinn on the couch, grabbing your glass of wine and food before you sit down. Now you just have to wait for Holly

“Sooo, what’s the news?” Quinn asks you.

“Holly isn’t here yet, we have to wait.”

”Oh so it’s that good?” He raises his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” You question, taking a sip of your wine.

“Well, when the news isn’t that important you usually don’t care if she hears it after me, or I hear it after her. But when it’s super important news, you have the other one wait.”

“Hmm, well then yeah. It’s pretty fuckin’ great, I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling for like 5 hours.”

Just then Holly comes in the door with Gus under one arm and a grocery bag full of ice cream in her other hand, “hi puppies, yes I have your friend with me”

“Oh! Hi Burton!!” You say with your puppy voice.

“Ok, why do you call him Burton? I never understood that.”

“It’s from one of my favorite shows!” You exclaim

“Y/N/N I don’t know if you know this but you, your brother, and Quinn all have like 50 “favorite TV shows” I’m gonna need you to say more than that,” she says to you as she grabs her food from the counter, and heads to the couch. She sits on the side of you not occupied by Quinn.

“Ok, rude,” Quinn sassed.

“It’s from Psych. One of the main characters is called Gus, but his first name is Burton, and the police chief and one of the detectives calls him by his full name which is Burton Guster, so there.”

“Got it.”

“Ok, Holly no more distractions,” Quinn starts, sticking his tongue out at her, she returns the gesture. “So what’s the important news?”

“Oh, you didn’t tell him yet! So it’s really important!” she says.

“Hmm, I guess I do do that,” you realize, “I would actually like you guys to guess” you take a bite of your food, smugly. Knowing neither of them would even have an idea of what to guess.

“Hmmm,” Quinn hums, he looks like he has a mischievous grin “does it have to do with a certain Swede?”

“Wha-“ you choke on your bite of food, Quinn is giggling at your reaction, “the fuck? How’d you know that?”

“Well umm, a certain brother of yours may have asked me if he should do that plan.”

“Why would you do that?’ you whined, upset at your friends for teaming up on you. You couldn’t imagine what you would’ve done if that plan didn’t work out the way it did today.

“Did it work?” He asked with a grin.

“That’s not the point, asshole!”

“See but it worked! He doesn’t hate you anymore, now you can flirt your ass off and make him see you as more than a friend” he tells you.

You laugh, he has no idea what happened in that break room.

“Ok, I’m out of the loop here, what happened?” Holly interjects

“Ok, well my idiot brother and apparently my asshole best friend came up with this plan-“

“Actually Marky and Thatch knew about it too,” he stops you from interrupting, “AND, to be fair, you can’t blame Brock for going to us. I mean I’m your best friend, and the goalies are just good at planning and doing crazy things”

“WELL. Those dicks that I call my closest friends and family, decided it was a good idea to lock me in one of the Canucks break rooms with Elias fucking Pettersson because he hated me and they wanted us to get along”

Holly starts laughing, “oh my god, they did not” she continues to laugh and Quinn joins her. You roll your eyes at them both.

“Yes, they did. I was not a happy camper. But it worked out and he doesn’t hate me.”

“See, I knew it would work! And like I said, now you can work your moves and get him to like you as more than just a friend.” He grins again.

You grin “Oh, also that’s the other part.” You take a long sip of your wine, both Holly and Quinn stared at you wide-eyed, waiting for you to finish, “turns out he’s a great kisser”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn said softly, he took a breath “WHAT?”

“Yeah, would you like more details?”

“Fucking- yeah,” they said simultaneously.

You went on to explain the events that happened in that incredible breakroom

“How the fuck did he keep that a secret, and why?” Quinn exclaimed, clearly confused that he didn't know something so big about who he considers one of his best friends.

“I don't know, but both of you have to absolutely promise me that you won't tell literally anyone else, ok? Not Bo, not Brock, not Demer, Stech, Marky, nobody!”

“Yeah, yeah that's fine,” Holly said, waving her hand in dismissal, wanting to get past that and know more. “So how do you feel?”

“Like the luckiest girl in the world,” you said while giggling with a big smile.

“Y/N/N. I’m so happy for you.” Quinn says with a genuine smile.”

“Ok, enough about me. How were your days?”

“Not as interesting as yours, but Gunnar and I spent the whole day out and about with Bo, and now I’m having a great wine night with you guys so it’s been a pretty amazing day.”

“Yeah, well I spent the whole day waiting for Y/N to come to kill me cause I thought she’d find out I had something to do with that whole situation,” Quinn says.

“Well let me just tell you, Hughes, if it hadn’t ended up the way it did, I may have had a few words for you.”

“I know, that’s why I was panicking the whole day”

“OH MY GOD” Holly shouted as she looked at her phone

“What, what’s wrong?” You ask

“Umm, you are going to LOVE this shit, Y/N/N”

She thrusts her phone in your face. When you look down you see a picture of Elias holding Gunnar, with a toy you hadn’t seen before. Elias looks so happy, looking down at the baby Horvat. Then there’s another alert on Holly's phone, “ohmygod,” you mumble. The alert is another text from Bo, it’s a video this time. You press play. In the video Elias is playing with Gunnar, using a high-pitched baby voice “oh yes you love your new toy that the best uncle in the world got you! Yes, you do cause I’m your very favorite, yes I am. You are just so cute, so lucky you got your looks from your mama, yes you are.”

From behind the camera, you can hear Bo, “Hey, have you looked at him, he looks just like me”

“Daddy is crazy, isn’t he? Yeaaaaah” Elias says to the boy.

The video ends and you see what text Bo had sent along with the picture and video

Bowie 💙: Yes, he got him ANOTHER toy. If he keeps this up, we’re gonna need a bigger house just for the toys lias gets him

“This boy is going to be the death of me I swear to god,” you say, handing the phone to Quinn, and placing your head in your hand. That video was literally the cutest thing you’ve seen in about 5 years.

You continue to talk, you end up explaining what Elias had told you about not doing anything else yet, and what he had said regarding that. You all finish eating and eventually decide on watching some ’how i met your mother’.

After they leave, you spend the rest of the night replaying the events from the break room in your head. Imagining what will eventually happen with you two. You truly can’t believe it. You’ve never felt this way about anyone and you’ve only known he likes you for about 12 hours. Elias Pettersson is going to be a special, if not the most special person in your life. So you pull out your notebook and a pen that you always keep next to your bed and you write your thoughts down.

First, you write the date at the top then skip 2 lines

Elias Pettersson, I think I love you. I know it’s too early to say and we’ve only had one day together, but I need to write this down.

It looks ridiculous and cheesy now that I’m reading it but if my gut is right, which it normally is, I just had to write it down. I had to tell you. If not in real life, at least just in this notebook. As cliche as it sounds, maybe I can show you it one day. I mean I do love myself a hallmark movie, so maybe this can be like one of those.

You sign it at the bottom, close your notebook, and place it back in your drawer.

You’re such a hopeless romantic and you kinda want to make fun of yourself, like you would do if you found out any of the guys did this kind of thing. ( And if you’re being honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if your own brother would do something like this. Your parents kind of instilled a love of romcoms in you guys at a young age.)

So once your thoughts have settled, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Elias’s night wasn’t that much different. He arrived at the Horvat residence with some snacks for the boys, and a new toy for Gunnar, as always. Every time he sees one he knows Gunnar will like, he buys it...it’s a problem.

“Petey!!” Stech shouts as he gets up to grab the snacks from him.

“So how was your daaaaay” Thatcher asks from the couch.

“I’m sure Brock has inform you of how my day went”

“‘Inform’ us he has. But OUR plan is what caused this. WE worked very hard on it” Thatcher says, chuckling.

“Wait, who all knew about it??”

“I didn’t!” Bo shouts from the kitchen!

“And neither did this little boy, he would never betray me,” Elias says, grabbing Gunnar from Brock on the couch and carrying him into the kitchen, the other guys follow. “And guess what Gunnar!!! I got you another toy, cause I’m the best uncle you have, yes I am.”

“Another toy Lias?? Really, I’m going to need to make a whole mother room for all of the toys you get him if you don’t stop”

“But why would I ever stop when he is the best boy ever! He deserves the world, yes he does,” Elias says, looking at Gunnar the whole time.

“Ok, now it’s time for him to have dinner,” Bo says, grabbing Gunnar from Elias.

“So… all of you knew?”

Stech, Brock, Demer, and Marky all nodded, with a guilty look.

“What about you? Elias said, looking at Nils. Nils looked guilty and nodded slowly “my own son? Really Hogs?”

“I’m sorry, I just wants to help you!!”

“We all just ‘wants’ to help you, Petey!” Marky said, mocking the youngest Swede’s mistake. All of them would do that to both of them, make fun of them when they messed up, they just wanted to help them, it’s all in good fun.

“Ok, I know but what if it didn’t work, what would you guys have done?”

“Elias my dear, the point is that it did work. And now Brock won’t have an aneurysm every time you and Y/N/N are in the same room together” Troy says, placing his arm around Elias’s shoulder.

“Yeah Petey, all we wanted was for you to like her as much as we do!” Thatcher said.

“Ok, I never hated her, I just-”, he paused trying to come up with what he was going to say next, “I don’t socialize well, it’s hard for me to talk to people, ok?”

“Which is exactly why we did this. Y/C/N/N is a sweet girl, we just needed to give you both a push since you’re essentially the same person” Marky said.

“LITERALLY” Brock shouted, “ I swear, the more and more I hang out with you, Petey, the more I realize you and my sister are the same. Like sure, she and Quinny are best friends. And like they’re both similar like they’re both shy, awkward, nice, and stuff but you two have the same humor, need for attention, sassy bite, etcétéra etcétéra.”

“Oh my god, you’re totally right! And their fake self confident-ness thingy!!” The other guys shouted assorted affirmations to Nils’s comment.

“What do you mean ‘fake self-confidence thing’?” Elias was confused.

“Both of you do a something where you say stuffs like “well I’m hot, so..” or “cause I’m the best” and my favorite “because the people likes me better than you” but neither of you feel that way far down. You both just like to act like you more confident than you are really.”

“Damn, he called you two out, and he’s so right” Bo chimed in with a chuckle. “Ok, well now that he’s done eating, Marky, can you and the baby Swede go out and pick up the pizza?”

“Yes sir, captain sir!” Marky said saluting Bo.

The rest of them talked while they waited for Gunnars stomach to settle.

“Hey Petey, wanna go grab drinks from the store with me,” Thatcher asks.

“I think we’re good actu-“ Bo starts

“Petey” Thatcher insists with a look that says that’s not exactly the reason why he wants Elias to come with him. And he knows better than to say no to a goalie who gives him that look.

“Yep,” he gets up and follows Demer out the door.

They get in the car and that’s when it starts “so,” Thatch says, “how long have you liked her?” He asks.

“I- uh what? What are you talking abou-”

“Oh save it blondy, I have a 6th sense about this shit.”

“Damn goalies. At least Marky doesn’t know,” Elias mumbles under his breath.

“Oh he definitely does, he just hasn’t said anything for some reason” he laughs.

“How do you know he just doesn’t know?”

“Cause I know this shit, bro. He may have even been messing with you since he and Y/N/N are cuddle buddies and shit. Just to get you to make a move or something”

“HE MADE ME DO THE OPPOSITE! I thought they were together for the longest time until she told me TODAY” That made Thatcher laugh, you know, Elias’s pain and suffering is just HILARIOUS.

Once he calmed down he continued to talk, “Ok, well you didn’t tell us the whole story of what happened in there, so spill” he said as they walked into the store.

“We may have talked”

“....bitch that’s not it, keep going”

“And we kissed a little,” Elias said, face turning red.

“That’s my boy!” Thatcher clapped him on the shoulder.

“You're only 3 years older than me”

“And you're only a year older than Nils, who you claim as your ‘son,’ so shhh” he retorted, “so I assume you two talked about it after, actually knowing you two, that may not have happened,” Thatcher said as they checked out.

“Ha ha ha, yes we talked about it Douglas,” Elias said with an eye roll. “I just told her that I can’t do anything till I do something” he said as they got into the car again.

“What’s that “something” you have to do?” The goalie questioned.

“Talk to her older brother that may just kill me if I tell him so, I’m not too pumped about that.”

“Have you forgotten how much Brock loves you? You’re each other’s work husbands, I think if you tell him he’ll be shocked, but he’d be ok with it.”

“But you didn’t hear what Brock had said about his friend chad in high school! He beat him up and cut him out, I don’t want that to happen to me”

“Petey, if you feel as strongly as I think you feel about YNN then I think you have to tell her, or that would be an extreme disservice to you, her, and honestly my mental health, so you have some work to do.” He said as they finally walked into the Horvat house again.

“Yeah, Petey you have to work on some stuff, like your hair!” Brock quipped.

“Shut up, frat boy, not all of us can have a luscious flow like you.” Elias jabbed back, “oh hi, how’s my favorite person here? Is your tummy settled now, can I finally give you your new toy?”

“Yes, you can,” Bo says, handing his child off to the blonde Swede.

Elias took Gunnar down to the floor, where his new toy was, and played with him while talking in his baby voice, at some point Bo took a video and sent it to Holly, and also his insta story. But that’s ok, he loved his little ‘nephew,’ and honestly, his day couldn’t have gone better.

Tagist: @calgarycanuck @suffering-canucks-fan @2manytabsopen @lovethepreds @callllumhood @mellany1997 @yourlocalgranolagirl54 @all-time-fanatic @Fitnessfreak498 @mysoftboybowen @peachyotps @kale-makar @kentjohnsons @iwantahockeyhimbo @aeyyy-ohhhh @peteysimp @nhlindblom @mitchsmullet @dolphinahabsfan @starswin @heunderwoo @hockeymockeryandlove @peteysimp

[kozumekenza]

house of memories :: five

:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.3k ::

the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.

tw: mafia elements, profanity, blood, gunshot wound, kidnapping, knives, murder, alcohol

When Kageyama finally parks the car for your “date”, you’re not at a fancy restaurant or the penthouse, but at an upscale boutique that you know Miwa frequents. Kageyama opens the door for you as you try to determine why you’re here, but he answers your question before you can fully think about it.

“I know you just got done with lab, but our reservation tonight has a dress code. I’ve had something custom ordered for you, but if you don’t like it, you can choose anything you want. I also need to pick up my suit.”

You look down at your stained jeans and old t-shirt before looking back up. “You custom ordered something for me?”

Kageyama just nods and leads you into the boutique, where you’re greeted by name by the saleswoman. 

“You’re here for the Elie Saab and Armani, yes?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The saleswoman disappears after Kageyama replies, and you have to stop yourself from scolding him for spending so much money on you. 

Apparently, he can read your mind, because he looks over at you and says, “Not going to say anything about how much it costs?”

You scoff. “I think I’d rather not know.”

The woman returns to guide you both to the dressing rooms. The dress is gorgeous, a black low-cut floor-length draped with sequins. You twirl a few times before you exit the room and come face to face with Kageyama, decked out in black Armani. You match perfectly, and the woman tells you so, causing both of you to blush. 

Soon enough, you’re heading towards your next stop of the night. The restaurant Kageyama takes you to is beautiful, with floor to ceiling windows showcasing Tokyo’s skyline. The waiter leads you to a private room (another thing you want to scold Kageyama for) and brings bottle after bottle of wine. The food is amazing too; a full five-course meal prepared by the head chef. 

“You mentioned earlier that you were okay with this being a real date.” Kageyama swirls the wine in his glass as he speaks, his eyes locked on the drink. “What has changed?”

Sighing, you take a sip of wine. You knew that this conversation would be coming eventually, but after spending so much time at the penthouse while he recovered, you think you’re ready for it. You’ve thought a lot about what your future might look like, and while initially, you weren’t sure, now, you’re positive. You want Kageyama to be in your future. 

“A lot has changed. I’m not eighteen anymore, and neither are you. I’ve started my adult life, I’ve gone to college, I’ve matured. When we were eighteen, you told me you were leaving to do this, and that wasn’t something that I could handle at that point. I told myself that it was fine, that we could part ways and I’d never have to be involved, but well, look where I am now. I’m not mad about it, though. I’m glad we somehow found our way back to each other.”

“So, you’re okay with everything I do?”

“I don’t think okay with it would be a good word, but I understand it. It’s not like I necessarily approve of it, but you do what you have to do. It’s part of who you are.”

Kageyama’s still looking at his wine glass, avoiding your searching gaze. “Do you want to be with me? Even with all of the risks, not only to me, but to yourself? With all the blood on my hands?”

“Yes.” He finally looks at you. “I can’t walk away from you again. I won’t walk away from you again. I want you, and everything that comes with you. I want all of it.”

“You do?” The hope in his eyes makes you want to cry.

“Of course, I do.”

Kageyama’s smile is so wide, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile this big. “I’m relieved, honestly. It was going to hurt a lot to watch you leave again.”

“Well lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

---

After a fulfilling dinner and far too many glasses of wine, Kageyama leads the two of you back to the penthouse. He’s very touchy now that you’ve confessed, his hand always on the small of your back or holding your own. You’re happy, thrilled even, for him to be yours once again. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be going down to the club tonight?” Both of you are currently sprawled on the couch, still in nice clothes, with Kageyama’s head on your lap. You run your fingers through his raven hair as he hums with his eyes shut. It’s hard to imagine him as someone that controls most of Tokyo’s underworld when he’s curled up in your lap like a puppy.

“I guess.” He sits up, his hair flopping into his eyes. “Do you wanna come?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Am I allowed?”

He looks at you incredulously, “Of course. It’s all yours now, anyways.”

“Aren’t you moving a bit fast?”

“Absolutely not.” He leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek. “It was always yours.”

You smile when he stands. “Can I change first? This dress is gorgeous, but it isn’t really fitting for a club.”

“Sure. I’ll meet you down here when you’re done.”

You nod and press a quick kiss to his lips before heading up the stairs to Miwa’s room. She’s still out doing whatever it is that Kageyama is supposed to be doing, and you left some of the clothes from your shopping spree here. You change into the zip-up Versace dress Miwa had suggested and touch up your makeup with Miwa’s stash before heading back down. 

Kageyama has changed too, instead of the Armani suit, he’s wearing what he had picked you up in earlier: black jeans and a dark coat. 

“Ready?” He holds his arm out to you and you take it, letting him lead you to the elevator.

---

You’ve been sitting in a booth on the main floor of the club for about an hour, nursing a cocktail, when Kageyama turns to you. So far, he’s just conversed with a few different people and kept an eye on things in the club. 

“I have a meeting in about fifteen minutes. I have a feeling it isn’t going to go very well. You can come with me if you want, but don’t feel pressured to.”

You weigh your options. If you’re really, truly, going to be a part of Kageyama’s life, you’ll need to know about this eventually. 

“I’ll come with you.”

“Okay.” He digs around in his pocket for a second, then passes you a small switchblade. “I’m not expecting you’ll need to use this, but things go wrong all the time. I’m sure you recognize this.”

You turn the knife over in your hands, nodding. It’s one that Kageyama always kept on him as a teenager; you remember summers of him showing you how to use it and how to sharpen it. 

“C’mon, let’s go.”

He takes your hand and leads you down a level and into a meeting room. A large rectangle table is the focal point, with two chairs at the head and five on each side. Kageyama’s guests are already there; you recognize Ushijima among them. You sit at the head of the table, to the right of Kageyama. The significance of the position does not go unnoticed by you or anyone else in the room; you assume that this seat is typically Miwa’s. You receive many ogling stares as you sit and you wonder how Miwa survives these; you’re the only woman in the room right now, and you guess that Miwa frequently is as well. 

Kageyama clears his throat as an attendant brings him a stack of papers. “Should we begin?”

“I’m more interested in knowing who this babe you brought is.” A man with blonde hair and an undercut leans forward and props his elbows up on the table. “I’m Miya Atsumu, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Miya,” the irritation is clear in Kageyama’s voice, “if you would like to keep your ability to speak, I suggest you shut your mouth.”

“Damn, I just wanted to know her name.” Miya raises his hands in innocence, and you sneak a glance at Kageyama, who seems to be regretting letting you come with him.

“Moving on.” Kageyama slides the papers to the center of the table. “Here’s the report for this month. Nothing of note on my side, besides Seijoh being a pain in the ass, as usual. Anything notable for any of you?”

Miya speaks up, “Seijoh placed their normal orders with us this month, besides one exception. There was an uptick in benzos, specifically Valium.”

“Do you think they’re planning something?”

“Hard to tell. I’d say possibly because Valium isn’t on their normal request list. Xanax is, but not Valium. It’s also not a typical party drug like Xanax, so I doubt they’re going to sell it.”

Kageyama hums. “Thank you, Miya. Next?”

A redheaded man that you recognize from your security detail speaks up next. You’re pretty sure his name is Hinata. “I’ve been busy with,” he gestures vaguely in your direction, “but Noya told me that Seijoh has been operating more out of their alternate base than their main one.”

The meeting continues in much of the same fashion, with each individual around the table giving their report on current events, until the last one. 

“Kindaichi.” Kageyama’s voice is commanding, and you immediately know that this is the person who is going to cause this meeting to go wrong. 

The man’s head snaps up, his voice shaking as he speaks. “Yes, sir.”

“You know what you’ve done.” Kageyama slides a knife down the table to him. “You know the rules. You know where your loyalties lie. Choose carefully. I expect your answer by tomorrow morning. Everyone, you’re dismissed.”

Kageyama remains seated, and you follow suit. After everyone has filed out of the meeting room, Kindaichi is still remaining. 

“Yes, Kindaichi?”

You can tell that the man is shaking, terrified of the consequences of whatever it is that he has done. “I-I didn’t mean to, it was an accident, he blackmailed me, and I had no choice, I swear-”

“Save it. You’ve broken my trust and put lives in danger. You will make the decision, or I will make it for you.”

“Sir, I-”

The bang of a gunshot shocks you. Kindaichi is slumped in a pool of blood, and Kageyama sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he returns the glock to the waistband of his jeans. 

“Sorry you had to see that.”

“I-It’s okay.” You can’t pull your eyes away from the corpse. You knew something like this was going to happen. You aren’t necessarily scared, just slightly surprised. You knew it was coming, but it still shocked you. 

“I’m done for the night.” Kageyama stands and puts a hand on your shoulder as you continue staring. “Why don’t we go back to the penthouse, and I can explain what just happened?”

You nod, your face blank as you finally look away and allow Kageyama to lead you out of the room.

---

When you’re finally upstairs, changed into one of Kageyama’s shirts and cuddled up in his bed with him, you speak.

“He wasn’t going to make it out of that room, was he?”

The movie neither of you are watching continues playing in the background as Kageyama sighs and buries his face in your neck. 

“No, he wasn’t.”

“What did he do?”

Kageyama pauses, just slightly. “He was the one who stole the files.”

Your gasp is audible as you sit up. “Really?”

“Yes. It was a huge betrayal, no matter what he was saying.” Kageyama winces before he continues. “Normally, I would’ve done much, much worse than just kill him, but I’m tired.”

You laugh a little as you lay back down, your head on Kageyama’s chest. “It makes sense. I can’t blame you, it's awful that he did that.” You pause, searching for your next question. “Who were the people in the meeting?”

“Members of other syndicates that I’m allied with, as well as some from my own. I’m sure you recognized Hinata and Ushijima. Miya Atsumu and his twin Osamu were there from Inarizaki. Akaashi Keiji from Fukurodani. Kuroo Tetsurou and Kozume Kenma from Nekoma.”

“Hm.” You’re getting tired, lulled to sleep by Kageyama’s deep voice and steady heartbeat.

“Enough of that. You’re exhausted.” He runs a hand up and down your back. “Get some sleep, y/n.”

“Hm.”

You fall asleep with a satisfied smile on your face, cuddled up in Kageyama’s arms.

---

When you wake up the next morning, the other side of the bed is cold. You check your phone to find a text from Kageyama. 

Had to go to work, I’m sorry. There’s breakfast downstairs. Miwa and I are both out, so take one of the cars in the garage. Keys are hanging in the foyer. I’ll meet you for lunch later.

You smile to yourself. Breakfast, your choice of sports car, and a promise for lunch. You could definitely get used to this life of luxury.

---

You walk out of your lecture hall with a sinking feeling in your chest. Ever since you left the penthouse this morning, you’ve felt off. You shake your head to try to clear it as you walk to your lab building. It’s a beautiful day, the late fall winds have started to die down, and the skies are clear. The campus feels serene with how empty it is right now, which also seems a bit weird. You jog up the steps and into the building, pushing open the doors. As you turn the corner, you swear you can feel someone breathing down your neck.

A rag is pressed to your face as someone grabs you from behind, dragging you towards an empty classroom. You struggle, throwing elbows and trying to yell, but your attacker is just too strong. Your vision blurs as you continue inhaling through the rag, which you now realize is soaked in chloroform. 

The last thing you remember before you lose consciousness is a man with brown hair leaning over your terrified face, a sickening smile on his face. 

taglist: @lilith412426 @itoshibaby @wallywaffle @princess-sunshyn @zukoslosthishonor @fatal-impact​

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Christmas Day 34

previously on Christmas

Polo Xmas prompt: Lexa gets auctioned off as a date for charity to support a good cause. Clarke gets jealous and tries to bid on her but loses. Thanks!

“You’re late!” 

“Not that late,” Clarke furrowed as she adjusted her dress slightly. 

“Fashionably late,” Lexa offered after checking her watch. “Hardly noticeable.” 

The annual Christmas Charity Gala illuminated the museum. The carpet was hidden beneath the white tents, protecting the visitors from the dazzling flurry of perfectly timed snow. Lights hung from every available eave, while brilliant Christmas trees glowed throughout the exhibits. The main hall was a sea of black ties and festive gowns, of fancy hair and cologne, of happy couples and wishes of merriment. 

Immediately set upon by Raven as they walked past the cameras and coat check, there hadn’t been even a second to really take in the winter magic that existed for the benefit Marcus began with Abby’s help. It was the social event of the season, and Lexa considered her boss to have outdone himself more so than ever before, and she’d been to quite a few Kane parties in her time with him. Tables here were going for no less than $50,000. He was ready to set records, even in philanthropy. 

As Clarke finished fidgeting, she met her friend’s eye. Lexa’s hand remained on her back and she felt the flush of the warmth of the building finally hit her cheeks. Nothing was noticeably out of place. She was reasonably put together. 

“Seriously?” Raven groaned, shaking her head at the couple. “The limo?” 

“What? No… what do you mean?” 

Stoic and unbothered, Lexa squeezed Clarke’s arm subtly, tucking her other hand into her pocket. Raven was completely right, and she was almost slightly proud of the fact that it was almost apparent on her girlfriend’s face as to why they were late. She got a smug grin and surveyed the rest of the party. 

“I’ll let Marcus know you’re here,” Raven rolled her eyes as she turned to walk away, only to pause and give them another look before departing. 

For a moment, Clarke stood there and looked over her dress before looking over her girlfriend’s completely unrumpled tux and tie and hair. 

“How did she know?” 

“You tend to have a glow about you.” 

“I do not,”Clarke disagreed. She found a reflective surface and checked her make up while Lexa found them glasses of champagne, snagged from a quickly moving waiter’s tray. “If anyone should have a glow it’s you,” she accused. “I’m damn good in a limo and you’re lucky to have me.” 

“Oh, I know, princesa.” 

“There’s no way she could know though. Not for certain.” 

“She knows.” 

“Shut up.” 

With a calming gulp, Clarke held her glass and for the first time since arriving, surveyed the party as they walked through toward the main area in hopes of finding familiar faces. 

“You weren’t saying that twenty minutes ago,” Lexa reminded her. “I believe your exact words were something about my outfit.”

There was a blush near her collar bones at the recent memory, but Clarke didn’t break this time, instead taking another sip of her drink. 

“Do you like my dress?” 

Lexa looked it over again, for well about the hundredth time and remained completely in love with how her girlfriend looked in it. She nodded as she took a drink herself. 

“You know I think you look amazing in it.” 

“Good. Then forget what just happened in the limo.” 

“I could never.” 

“It’s the smugness. It’s unattractive.” 

“Is it though?” Lexa grinned. 

They stood close as they found their table, pausing before Lexa pulled out the chair to offer to her girlfriend. She kissed Clarke’s cheek before taking her own seat as well, happy to be near her, happy to be at an even like this for the first time ever in her life. There’d been many times she’d been on the arm of someone, but never had she been so happy to have Clarke on her’s. 

“You might want to hide that smugness, there, tiger,” Clarke offered, looking over her shoulder at the familiar form approaching. 

“I don’t know if it’s possible. You do remember what I did to you in the--”

“Dad! Hey!” 

Clarke rolled her eyes to see that the smugness didn’t leave Lexa, though she did stop talking, which was important. It was the season of giving, and Clarke was proud, too proud often, and she was not great at accepting, except with it came to Lexa. With Lexa, she took everything. 

Lexa stood as quickly as she sat, careful to button her coat before grabbing Clarke’s chair for her to hug her father. She did everything in her power to stop thinking about the limo. 

“Looks like this is the family table. Your mother was kind enough to put us all together after taking my very large check. How are you, Lexa?” 

“Doing well, sir. Nice to see you.” 

Gripping his hand, Lexa met his eyes and nodded. He smiled kindly, and he had Clarke’s eyes. It was disarming in a way. 

“You look great, honey,” he kissed his daughter’s cheek. Once more, Lexa pulled out the chair. 

“You clean up alright, too. Is Mom auctioning you, too?” 

“She is, and here I thought the divorce was enough to get rid of me.” 

Despite herself, Lexa smiled into her glass as the patriarch of one of the largest companies on the planet signaled for a drink as well. Clarke sighed audibly at her father’s jab. 

“Clarke’s annoyed that I was volunteered,” Lexa offered, earning a nudge from an elbow. 

“She never did share well,” he shrugged, chuckling at his daughter’s misfortune. 

“There’s only one limo I plan on going home in tonight,” the polo player promised. 

“Maybe you both will find true love tonight as you’re sold like slabs of meat on the auction block. I don’t understand why they can’t just do a silent auction.” 

“Oh, she is a bit jealous, isn’t she?” Jake observed. 

“I was just hoping to get her to take me to lunch more.” 

“Are you going to bid on your girlfriend?” 

“No. I get her for free. I’m not going to spend your money.” 

“You can bid on your old man, if you want,” Jake explained. “I’d hate to get stuck at some lunch with some mad woman or man, plus it’d be nice to catch up.” 

“You’re really not going to bid on me?” Lexa furrowed.

“You signed up to go on a date with a stranger, and so I’m going to oblige.” 

“That’s not what I--”

“Okay, you two, let’s go,” Raven appeared, slightly out of breath. “Abby is running me ragged looking for the talent.” 

“Now you’re making me sound like a pornstar.” 

“If you go for a high enough price, who knows,” she retorted. “Come on.” 

“Good luck,” Clarke offered as Lexa leaned down for a kiss. “I hope you go for higher than my dad. That’d be embarrassing.” 

“Remember when I said you were beautiful in that dress?”

“Mhm.” 

“I love you.” 

“I know,” Clarke smiled. “I’ll see you after.” 

XXXXXXXXXXX

Left to her own devices, Clarke finally took stock of the past hour of her life and ventured a moment to think of the next one. There was something magical about Lexa showing up in the limo, dressed to the nines, her hair perfect and tamed, or at least as much as it could be. It lived forever in her mind, that image of a dashing girl, adjusting her watch at the foot of the stairs, the look she got when Clarke walked down the steps. 

She was smitten with the polo player. She was more smitten than she could ever remember being, and she didn’t want anyone else going to lunch with her girlfriend. 

Exchanging pleasantries with the rest of her table before her friend returned, Clarke did everything she could to put the events of the limo out of her mind. There was something about how sexy Lexa was, and how her hands were always everywhere, and her lips were always so warm. It was alarming to want someone so much. It was new for Clarke. 

Beneath the small tree in her apartment, there were little gifts, already wrapped and ready for Lexa. There were plans, already, for that morning. 

“There is going to be a feeding frenzy over your dad and girlfriend.” 

“How’s he doing backstage? He hates attention.” 

“I might bid on him myself, honestly.” 

“Did he say he’d bank roll you to get him out of it?” 

“Even if he did, I’d hold him to a date.”

“Ew on so many levels,” Clarke laughed. 

“Him and Lexa are actually gossiping about watches and junk. They’re kind of adorable together. You might have to bring her around more,” Raven explained as she grabbed another glass of champagne. 

“I don’t know if I’m more afraid of them getting along or not getting along.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

“Next up, we have perhaps the most eligible bachelor in all of New York City. You know him as the CEo of Griffin, and I know him as the father of my child, I give you, Jake Griffin.” 

Abby applauded as the CEO sheepishly made his way out onto the catwalk toward the stand. 

“Jake loves Italian food and Westerns. He’s run the NYC marathon five out of the last seven years and practices kickboxing with his daughter at least once a week. A proud alumni of Columbia, he’s become an affiliate professor teaching business classes part time at the community college.”

On the stage, Clarke’s father waved and put his other hand in his pocket. 

“Bidding will start at five thousand for a wonderful lunch date while you tour the city from the water on his private yacht.” 

“Five right here!” Raven yelled, lifting her paddle quickly. 

“Stop!” Clarke rolled her eyes. 

The bidding went higher and higher as Jake gave his daughter a confused glance. She just gave him a thumbs up and laughed at the entire thing. 

“Remember, ‘tis the season, everyone,” Abby added. “We have fifty-five going once, going twice, and sold!” 

Surprised as he was, Jake nodded and smiled toward the crowds. He offered a quick wave before retreating to the safety of the backstage. 

“Next up, we have someone who needs no introduction, though I am going to give her one anyway.” 

Unlike her predecessor, Lexa came out, prepared for the season, clad in a bright red Santa hat and sporting a very mischievous smile. 

“The championship polo player and current model for Patek Philippe, Calvin Kline, and Ralph Lauren is fluent in four languages and enjoys spending the day snuggled up with a good book, something she’s done a lot of with a Masters in Latin American Literature.” 

In a similar movement, Lexa waved toward the crowd and shoved a hand in her pocket, however she knew how to work a crowd and walk a runway, much to her girlfriend's faux chagrin. Lexa knew Clarke wasn’t one to get jealous, but she appreciated the display. She appreciated feeling wanted and protected, as if somehow the girl in the green and red gown would fight anyone who bid. 

“Lexa Woods is an accomplished athlete. She’s an Olympian for her native Argentina, enjoys a hearty red wine, and spending time with her ponies. We’ll start the bidding at ten thousand.” 

“Fifty thousand,” Clarke called out after a few people lifted their paddles. 

It grew a little quieter for a moment. 

“Sixty!” a voice rang out from another table, though Clarke couldn’t see where it was coming from exactly in the hubbub of the large hall. 

“Seventy,” another joined, the crowd getting into it. 

“Eighty!” Clarke interjected, earning a look from her mother. 

“Ninety.” 

“One hundred.”

Clarke lowered her paddle and rolled her eyes. 

All said and done, Lexa went for a record $183,000 and Clarke found herself somewhat proud of that number, just as Lexa looked floored by the final result before escaping backstage as well. But it was for charity, and Clarke was relieved to see that the winning bid was to an older woman. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep bidding on you,” Clarke mumbled as she plopped down onto the bed in the hotel room. “I would have easily spent a million dollars on you.”

“That’s kind, but I’m glad you didn’t,” Lexa smiled to herself. 

Carefully, she folded her coat and laid it over the chair in the corner before she sat down and began removing her shoes. The light from the hallway streamed in, casting one long line across the livingroom and bedroom, but Clarke didn’t move at all, just spread her arms wide and stared at the ceiling, full of too much mirth and spirits. 

“Are you going to take that dress off for bed? It doesn’t look too comfortable to sleep in.” 

“Take it off for me.”

“Hopefully my lunch date will stay a little more sober than you.” 

“I doubt it. I know Mrs. Winston and she’s about as dry as a… as a wet mop.” 

Lexa shook her head and went about the task of undressing her girlfriend, grateful to have made use of their time together before the event. She knelt at the edge of the bed and began with the shoes, gingerly unstrapping them and slipping feet from them. 

“I would have bid on you more.” 

“I know. I wouldn’t have stopped if it were you.” 

“Afraid I’d run off with some hedge fund manager?” 

“Terribly afraid of that.” 

“Nah,” Clarke murmured, lulling her drunken head to the side slightly. “Not with how good you look in a tuxedo. Holy fuck.” 

“And I couldn’t care about a stupid lunch when you look like the most wonderful present waiting to be unwrapped,” Lexa promised. 

“I’m drunk but I think you should come up here and kiss me right now.” 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Leca shrugged before eagerly agreeing.

NEXT