#i sure hope not i dont want the trauma and injury

[autismnation]

me, walking into an escape room: omg it’s just like the movie!

[adventuringblind]

Entitled To You (3.6K words)

Norstaptri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: An incident with Lance sends the boys into a frenzy. She just wants to do what she loves.

Warnings: Explicit depictions of r@pe, injury descriptions, panic attacks, Oscar plots a murder, Lando throws hands, Car crashes, Author doesn't know legal stuff, Head trauma and blood.

Notes: This one is a request from @Lily234566 I know this wasn't the original pairing but I was struggling to fit the Ferrari boys in there so I had to scale it back... I'm sorry and I hope you still like it! T_T

Side Note: Sorry to the Lance girlies reading this. AND obligatory message of I don't know these people and this is purely FICTION! HEAD THE TAGS! DONT LIKE THEN DONT READ!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

“Max!” She peeks her head into his driver's room. The bright beaming smile she receives in return after their 1-2 nearly kills her. “They want me for a media thing, apparently.” HIs smile drops into a pout. The sad puppy eyes might convince her to stay. 

“Again? Don’t they know we have plans!

“No, and why would they care anyway?” She looks him up and down and whines because he’s standing in front of her with no shirt on. “Just - I’ll meet you guys back at the room. It’s something to do with being a female in F1… again.”

“I’m starting to think they have nothing else to talk about.” 

She shrugs as she walks out of the hospitality, waving to Christian on her way by. The goal is to get past the Mclaren garage without seeing Lando because otherwise she is not going to the interview. His pout is worse (better?) than Max’s. 

To her pleasant surprise, Laura is the one conducting the interview. “I’m sorry about this being last minute! They said they wanted you to do it with someone else next week and I offered to do it now.” 

The interview passes with ease and thankfully doesn’t take long at all. The banter in-between is also entertaining. 

She’s exhausted when they finish. Ready to go back to the hotel and fall into bed with her boys. Hopefully They’ve ordered food - and dessert. 

The paddock is nearly empty as she makes her way through. Maybe, had she been paying more attention and not focussed on her aching body, she would’ve caught on to the footsteps behind her. 

They are heavy, she assumes possibly a mechanic still packing up to continue on their way to the next circuit. That’s what she still thinks when the hand on her bicep yanks her around the corner. 

If she weren’t as exhausted, then fighting would’ve been a possibility. However, that seems out of the cards as he pins her against the nearest wall. Her forehead hitting the surface hard enough to make her dizzy. 

“Not so confident now, huh?” 

The fuck- “Lance? What are you?-” He slams her head again and cages her body against his own. She flails, only to be slammed again. “Would you stop doing that please?” 

“Not after that stupid stunt you pulled today on track.”

“You mean the one where you showed you don’t know what brakes are?-” Again, her head is sent into the hard surface. She can feel her nose starting to bleed. “Must you?!” She decided to shut up when he does it again and everything starts to go fuzzy. 

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of her fireproofs. The cold evening air hits her bare skin and she panics more than before. Her head is too cloudy to fully comprehend what’s happening. 

“I feel like I'm entitled to a bit of compensation after that stunt.” 

“You’re entitled to nothing. You took yourself out!” She hisses through gritted teeth. Still, Lance continues to get her clothes lower. And slams her head again harder - you know - because she wasn’t disoriented enough already.

“Would you shut up?” She doesn’t say anything this time. Her mouth feels numb and her ears are ringing. Her exposed lower half is met with the bare hands of someone she doesn't want touching her. 

It's - well - it hurts. He's groping at her thighs, ass, even her tits which she isn't sure how he's managing. His hands are everywhere they shouldn't be. 

And then nothing. 

A vague awareness of what's happening seeps through her veins and invades her senses. She tries to scream. Attempts despite the sheer pain of the snap of hips she didn't ask for. 

His finger beat her to it. A hand encloses around her throat and cuts off her oxygen. The black spots dance around her vision. She wants them to stop moving; they are making her dizzy. Or was she already dizzy? 

“See, it's not so bad. Don't you feel less guilty for ruining my race now?” No, she doesn't. She wasn't guilty before. 

She blacks out. 

~~~♡~~~

Waking up with sore limbs and a killer headache is not how she pictured this night going. She tries to yell for help, but a mere creaky rasp escapes. 

When did she lose her voice? The thought makes her panic more. The sob she lets out hurts more than there is sound. 

Her face and hair is sticky. At least Lance had done her the courtesy of not finishing inside of her. 

Still - what the fuck even happened? The fragmented memory is trying to come back to her slowly. Each small piece remembered is another broken cry. 

She can't move. 

It's dark again. 

~~~♡~~~

The anxiety between the three boys is certainly not something they are used to. Oscar can pinpoint the exact moment Lando started overthinking and Max had to bear hug him so he didn't pace a hole into the cement of the parking lot. 

The fourth seat in their car remains empty and their messages have gone unanswered. It's getting more concerning with each passing minute. 

“Max, she always responds.” 

“I know Lando.” 

“She always calls if she's going to be longer.” 

“Lando?”

“Yes?”

“Would you feel better if we went and looked around for her?” 

The Brit nods his head in a fashion that might give him whiplash. It's better seeing him feel helpful then sit helplessly. Though Oscar can't help but agree with Max's original point. that they should wait there at the car just in case since that's where they were supposed to meet. 

Granted, it's only been twenty minutes. It's still long enough to be murdered. 

They Methodically peer around corners and wave at the mechanics who give them skeptical looks. They were supposed to be out for post race celebrations by now. 

Oscar freezes when he sees it. The human shaped lump lying on the ground. He rushes over with long strides. The closer he gets, the more familiar the person on the ground becomes. 

“Max! Lando! I found her!” The other two boys come sprinting in his direction. He's on the ground trying to clear her hair from her face only for it to get stuck in the sticky substance coating her features. 

“What the fuck?” 

Her fireproofs are still on, but it's obvious what happened. The handprints on her neck, the blood trickling down the sides of her face. “We need to bring her to a hospital.” 

Max hoists her up in his arms. Mainly because Lando is on the brink of tears and struggling to breathe through his panic. He loves deeply and with his heart on his sleeve. Oscar just hopes he can keep the Brit calm until they find more help. 

“Can we at least clean her up?” Lando pleads with him. Big Hazel eyes brimming with tears. 

It's always a struggle to tell him no. “We can't, not if it can help us figure out who did it.” The tears start right after that. 

“So that’s what happened then? Someone really-” Oscar has to maneuver the puddle of tears that is his boyfriend into the passenger seat of their rental car. Max tosses him the keys, opting to be with her in the back and keep her comfortable. 

The tricky drive to emergency is more because Oscar is too far in his own thoughts to pay attention to the traffic lights. He can hear Max moving her around, attempting to put pressure where blood still flows freely. 

Oscar doesn’t bother with parking. He pulls off into some empty area and helps Max shoulder her weight inside the doors while Lando runs ahead to find help. 

It’s fast after that. They take her away and start patching her up while the three of them are forced to sit in the waiting room. Oscar and Lando are left to their own devices while Max paces about on the phone with Christian. 

He feels like a knife is being driven through his chest each time his mind tries to come up with what could’ve happened. Who would do something like this? Unfortunately, a lot of people. The question is more of who could’ve done it and gotten away. Someone with access to the paddock this late. Security, perhaps? Maybe even a sleazy mechanic? A driver wouldn’t make any sense… right?

“When will they let us see her?”

“When she wakes up, most likely.”

He’s not sure when he falls asleep. The exhaustion finally hit him like a truck despite his persistence. He’s awoken by Max’s constant shaking and aggressive whispering of his name. 

“-She’s asking for us.” 

He’s up faster than Lando when Jon threatens an ice bath. They follow the nurse down the halls with an uneasy anticipation. They creep inside the sterile room and find her staring at the wall. 

Lando doesn’t hesitate to move further into the room. Always having been more in touch with his emotions then the other two boys. “Hey love, can I come closer?” 

She looks at him. The bandages plastered over the sides of her head and around her face now visible to them. She returns Lando’s gaze with glassy eyes. It’s damn near shocking when she tries to pull things off her body in a desperate attempt to reach for Lando. 

Lando gets to her before she can get everything off, specifically the IV, and catch her arms. Oscar and Max finally pull themselves together and manage to get her to lay back down with some coaxing. 

She’s shaking violently. Her grip on Lando’s arm is sure to leave bruises. “Who - who f-found me?”  

“We did, schat. We got worried when you didn’t respond.” Max drags the two chairs in the room closer and pulls Oscar down into one.  Lando, against all odds, manages to wriggle his way into bed with her. 

“I know who it was. I - well - does anyone else know?” 

“Just Christian and us.” Oscar can feel the fight Max is putting up to not ask her more questions. The way he’s grounding himself with a hand on Oscars knee instead. 

“You don’t have to tell us.” He attempts to reassure. Maybe calm her mind by giving her an option. “Just know we’re here, alright?” 

“I don’t want it to be a big story. It’s already going to be since I can’t be in the car for the next four weeks. Oh fuck - everyone is gonna know-” Lando hushes her; gets her to somehow hold him tighter.

“Christian said it’s up to you, whatever happens.” Max nods at her encouragingly. “We go at your pace.” 

“They did a rape kit. They’ll know who it is. It was all over so it couldn’t have been hard to get DNA - oh fuck” 

Her heart rate picks up. The nurses rush in. They send her back to sleep. 

~~~♡~~~

Max wants to know who it was who touched her. The rage simmering underneath her skin is almost too much to keep contained. 

On the more fortunate side, they were allowed to stay since she wouldn’t let go of Lando. Then when he did have to get up, they rotated. 

The doctors and nurses learned to approach her like she’s a scared animal. The heavy footsteps seem to set her off and there is now a sticky note on the door saying to tiptoe when entering. It’s endearing to see her doctors and nurses trying so hard not to startle her. But seeing as they’ve now had several incidents where she’s panicked, they are taking more caution. 

Oscar and Lando have meandered away in search of food. Max opted to stay put and made the promise to bring him back cheat foods. He’s too stressed to not eat something of comfort. 

Her physio is supposed to come by today with the stuff she left at the track and get an update from the doctors themselves instead of Max’s botched attempts at repeating back. It will also be nice to see her comfortable, as the one blanket that travels with her everywhere will also be dropped off. 

“Max?” He tightens his hold to show he’s listening. “It’s not fair… You, Lando, and Oscar make a mistake on track and nobody does that to you. I - It wasn’t my fault.” 

The thing is, Max is smarter than people give him credit for. The only incident on track was with Lance. An incident that was his own fault. “He’s at fault, not you. None of this is your fault.”

“They are going to say I was asking for it or something.” 

“In those fireproofs? The only ones asking for it are me and Oscar… for obvious reasons.” He chuckles proudly at his little self compliment. 

It also manages to get her to crack something of a half smile. “Are you complimenting your own ass?” 

“And what if I am?” 

She doesn’t eat anything despite it being sat in front of her. Soft foods are the only thing she’ll be eating. Her throat, albeit not as bad as it could've been (thank you F1), is still damaged and needs to rest as much as possible. 

They had to keep her for observation due to where the head wounds had been. It’s been a rough thirty-six hours, but they are managing.

Despite the hectic situation, Max has come to learn that the female lying in the hospital bed is a better person then the rest of them. Oscar was detailing a full proof murder plan while she was telling him not to make it a bigger deal then it is. To which Oscar politely put his ten step plan with four contingencies down and told her that it’s ‘what he had coming to him’. 

Max has not had to stop someone from assassinating a rival before, but Oscar seems like a reasonable guy. “Death is too good for him.” 

“Mm, you’re right, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t die then and can’t see my face.” 

“Or, we make his life a series of inconveniences! I feel like daddy’s money could get him good therapy. It can’t solve every minor problem.” Lando has a gleam in his eyes. 

Him and Oscar start pouring over ideas once more. The girl simply shakes her head and goes back to eyeing her pudding like it’s assaulted her. “I don’t want to leave here, Max.”

“Why not? I’d assume you want to go home? Sleep in a comfortable bed?”

“Out there, they can get to us. Here is safe.” 

He considers how to reassure her. Only, there is nothing he can think of. The truth is that outside of this hospital room, there is no guarantee they won’t run into trouble. 

“I can’t promise that we'll never have something bad happen again. But-” He looks to the McLaren duo brainstorming ways to make the Aston Martin garage regret existing. “We’ll be there for each other. We’re here for you. When you want us and when you need us, yes?” 

“Pinky swear?” She extends her pink to him. 

Max accepts and curls his pinks around hers. “Pinky swear.” 

~~~♡~~~

It’s not fair really, that they had to leave to go do things. Lando would prefer he at least stayed with her so she isn’t alone. Alas, they are preparing for her discharge and he had to run around getting things together for their trip back to Monaco.

He comes back to a partially opened door and smiles at the other two boys being able to get back before him. Then again, as he gets closer he can hear the angry tone. One that Max uses when he’s pissed off about something. 

Lando panics and rushes inside. Only to be met with the sight of the last person he wants around right now. 

Now - he wouldn’t say he’s prone to violence. Lando prefers to keep the peace when it comes to conflict unless he’s trying to piss someone off on purpose to get a reaction. This is not one of those times. 

Lando’s knuckles collide with the Canadian’s jaw faster than he can fully become aware of what he’s doing. Lance stumbles backward and holds his jaw, glaring at Lando like he’s the one in the wrong here. 

“Get out!” 

“We were just talking-” 

“I said. Get. Out.” He’s seething. The thudding in his chest becoming louder with each second Lance remains in this room. 

He’s not prone to violence. 

Really, he’s not. 

Yet the second crack of knuckles into Lance's chin gives him some sick satisfaction. Isn’t there something about equilibrium? Can he pin this on restoring the balance or something? Regardless, he isn’t going to dent the fact that it feels good. 

The nurses come running and start asking questions. Max and Oscar have to drag Lando away kicking and screaming. 

Worse is when they try to tell him that there are pictures out on social media. Christian has been calling Max non-stop. Oscar has been dealing with Zak. Their relationship isn’t a secret and neither is their current location.  

“They're sending us a different car to see if we can’t get out discreetly.” 

“What happened with Lance, Lan? Are you alright?”

Everyone is panting. Their eyes trained on the door. “I punched him. I restored the equal-brey-um… thing.” 

“Equilibrium.” 

“Yeah that!” 

He’s not sure how they get on the plane. He’s still amped up about the whole punching thing and running purely off adrenaline. 

They’ve been sitting in silence, mulling over their options. Creating statements they can put out. It’s hectic and they keep trashing them because nothing fits. 

The female has been apathetic. The last thing she wanted was for this to get out and now it has. Seemingly everything is flashing before her eyes. Her career will be gone soon enough, so what’s even the point? 

“Don’t post anything. We don’t have an obligation to confirm or deny the rumors. If anything, we can say that you were just driving me to the hospital and being good friends or whatever.” She won’t look at them. Still - Lando can hear how upset she is, the waiver in her voice. “I’m going to be kicked out anyway.” 

“Christian said-”

“Damn what Christian said! He knows this isn’t going to get any better and if I say who it was then Daddy’s Money is just going to pay his way through.” She's hyperventilating now. Her body collapses against her seat and Oscar makes an effort to get her to lean against him. “It’s not fair!”

lando Can’t help but share her feelings.

~~~♡~~~

She stays holed up in the Redbull garage the next weekend. The appearance is hard, people want to ask her questions. Her boys had been caught in the middle of the riptide and haven’t come back to shore yet. 

At least she’s here. She’s trying her hardest to look stronger than she is. On the inside things are falling apart. 

The team knows to give her space and not ask about the ordeal. She takes refuge in Max’s room when things are too much and the other drivers keep their distance. 

They know it was one of them. She’d been adamant on not saying who it was, but it’s obvious there are sixteen who it could have been, given her partners insistence that none of them go near her garage for the time being.  

She just wants this whole thing to blow over. She wants to lay in bed with her lovers and not flinch when they go to touch her. 

She knows, however, that until she deals with things that healing can’t happen like it should. Or at least, that’s what her therapist says. The one she is now required to see. 

Things get worse when she’s back in the car. Her media duties are limited so she can focus on driving and ‘listening to her body’ as her physio likes to say. 

She can’t hear her body over the sound of her mind going staticy as Lance closes in on her. The catalyst for everything. She panics and ends up in the wall. Not the worst crash ever, but certainly hurts her pride more than it has already.

The thing is, it keeps happening. Even as she’s able to let her boys back in. As her podium finishes start to come back. Her fireproofs (which they’d gotten her all new ones) start to feel comfortable again and she doesn’t feel the need to be out of them the second the race is done. Still, Lance is using this to his advantage. 

Finally, after he almost killed her on track (again), she’s had enough.

The trial goes better than she thought it would. Despite the money differences, Lance won’t be able to race anymore. It’s not some grand spectacle either, just an announcement like usual. It’s more the closure she needed versus the publicized drama it could have been. 

She wins the next race. 

“If I ever see him again, it will be too soon.” 

“It’s been over a year now, Lan. I’m getting better.” There is a genuine smile on her face. The car awaits to take them back to the hotel. It was here that it happened. She almost considered not racing because of it.

“Lando got a taste of blood and now he’s feinding for it.” Max has a comforting hand around her waist. A grounding presence. 

“I mean, I never threw away my murder plot…” 

“You’re a genius Oscar!”

She shakes her head. It’s not like any of this has been easy. It never is. Still - her boys are here and they’ve been so patient. 

“There’s her smile.” They all beam at her. 

She smiles back.

[sketchyfrogzz]

Dating Liam Williams [general headcanons+romantical stuff]

@myvirtuallove for u pookie 😊 eat up!!

For those who dont know,Liam is my creepypasta oc! I just did this for funziesssss and I hope you like it!

How you two met:

I feel like the two of you would meet in the forest or somewhere dark and secluded! That's where Liam is usually found so if you where to look around there you'd most likely catch sight of him!

When Liam spots you walking around the dark and eerie forest,he's confused.What in God's name where you doing walking in a place like this? At NIGHT? You must have a death wish.

He would probably try to scare you off since he doesn't believe in killing innocent people,if he did he's no better than the one who ended his own life...

But anyways,he would try scaring you of by making things move by themselves,making himself invisible then tapping your shoulder or something,just anything to get you away.

If you decide to keep going,he gives up.But as he floats of,he hears a small gasp.

The man whips his head around to find you standing there,gobsmacked as you take in his appearance.Dark grey skin,a battered jaw,as well as an injury at his head,a bit of his brain on display too.

If you guys are wondering what he looks like [haven't don't full body yet but expect it eventually!! For now have the small doodle]

He legit expects you to scream,or just be afraid and run off! If you do,he won't chase you,instead watching your rapidly retreating form with a solemn sigh.He can't blame you,but it still hurts.

BUTTTTTTT....if you don't end up running away,instead fascinated by the ghost standing in front of you,he'll just stand there dumbfounded.

Where's the screaming? The look of terror in your eyes? He didn't expect...you to actually not be scared,but then again everyone had different limits!

He'd probably back away if you stepped closer,the slight smell of blood and dirt mixed with vanilla filling your nose as you draw closer to the man.

Just flat out nervous,but also curious himself.It's been so long since he's been in contact with another human who won't run away,but it's still nerve-wracking for him.

Confession:

To start off:Liam would get whiplash the second he finds out you had feelings for him.

Like wow,you really having feeling to a zombie like ghost?? Good for you I guess?

He would wait for a confession [which he HEAVILY doubts will happen] cause he's to quiet and kinda shy,also in heavy denial at the idea of you liking him back.

If your also to shy,leave a sign,he would feel more confident if he saw a hint that you liked him and would confess to you! Or else he won't confess at all.lol

But nevertheless he's kinda excited,but nervous,he's always nervous.But is still happy you feel the same!

Though he's kinda worried about your safety,there are loads of things in the forest and over members like Jeff,or EJ,who could probably kill you or something! He doesn't want you getting hurt.

Dating him:

Dating Liam is pretty chill,he makes sure your happy and likes to hear your laugh.Takes you on walks through the forest and might take you stargazing!

On problem though: physical affection is gonna need some work.

Liam HATES physical affection due to past trauma and his death,he's really hesitant when it comes to physical affection.But,he might be able to do some hand holding and [maybe] some kisses but you'll need to initiate it cause he sure isn't.

Also oblivious to flirting,he doesn't really know the whole deal with flirting and you'll probably need to be more obvious when flirting with him.

But when you do fluster him,he blushes.Hard.His body is kinda cold from you know,being dead,but the blush with maybe be an even darker shade of gray along his cheeks.

Will stand there like an idiot,before just covering his face.He has no idea how to react [god forbid you flirt with him even more once he's in this state,he just gets overwhelmed with embarrassment,it's too much for him <3]

He will get you gifts,which are usually flowers he picked of the ground,he did his best to get rid of the roots! He also tries to go out [at night] to get you some jewellery,he wants to make sure you feel special!

If someone messes with you,unlike the other creepypastas,he won't kill them,but will instead comfort you.But if the person was that disrespectful,he might take...bigger measures to make sure they don't do it again.

Sometimes gets insecrue,please reassure him that you love him :[

overall cares for and loves you like the world :3

[creppersfunpalooza]

( @allergic-to-four-leaf-clovers )

HELLOOO AND WELCOME BACK FOLKS!!! DUE TO A LACK OF SPONSORSHIP AS OF LATE, WE’VE STRUGGLED TO KEEP THIS LITTLE GAME AFLOAT, BUT FORTUNATELY, WE’VE GOT ONE!!! WOOHOOO!!!

FOR THIS ROUND, WE’VE GOT A COLLECTION OF FUN GUYS! ANGELIC BEINGS, LESS ANGELIC BEINGS, AND VARIOUS OTHERS (don’t you see i have a bias)!!!! NO USE STALLING, LET’S GET RIGHT TO IT!!!

*important disclaimer* i actually know very little about the following characters other than what the creator has directly told me. i’m going purely based on vibes.

COMING IN AT 5TH PLACE, WE HAVE RAYAN!! i love scars, man, i really do, and i also love soppy cats. so why is he so low, you may ask? because i do NOT 💥 think he should be mean to his fiance. come on my guy… be nice… spread peace and love!!!! peace and love!!!!!!!! put in some effort come on!!! put in the work!!!!! i know you can do it buddy you just gotta try!!!!!! pretty pretty please… anyways i do really like his design, its very simple while still conveying stuff about his character. like i dont know what he’s been through but clearly he’s been through a lot. but STILL 💥 BE NICE. 💥 TO YOUR. 💥 FIANCE 💥💥💥💥💥💥.

NEXT UP IN 4TH PLACE IS MADIR!!! i really do like madir!!! i know barely anything about him but once more i rlly like the details you mentioned about him. like he seems mildly unsettling and i love that for him. like you could probably find him in the woods just sort of hanging out. he’s a source of trauma but i honestly do not mind because at least HE 💥 would probably be nice to his fiancé. if he had one. i actually can’t speak on his behalf thats purely speculation.

IN 3RD, FOSTER!!!!! i don’t exactly know why i just think they’re neat. also hi in case you couldn’t tell i really like scars on characters 💖💖💖 love them they do something to my brain. and foster’s got a ton. i loove what you’ve told me about their backstory and they just seem so neat!!! i hope they’re healing now. even though. they’re probably not. because nobody is Allowed To Be Happy Ever. as a general rule for character making. anyways chewing on them and moving on.

BUT WAIT!! WE’VE ONLY GOT TWO LEFT!!! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS??????

it needs i need to put an ad here or else i’m getting fired. that’s what it means. SO HELLO!! DO YOU HAVE A WISH? DO YOU WANT A GOD THAT ACTUALLY LISTENS? THEN CONSIDER JOINING THE CHURCH OF OCELLUS!!!

for the small, small initiation fee of a limb or organ, you too can have your wishes granted! help our god gain more power by having him help you! all you’ve gotta do is give us a little bit of yourself for each wish! and you know what? it doesn’t even have to be you! have a beloved family member, partner, or friend? they work too! just nick off an arm while they’re sleeping! they won’t miss it!!!! join today to get an additional wish!!!!!! and remember, Bless Ocellus’s Good and Generous Name!

(sponsored by the Church of Ocellus. The Church of Ocellus does not claim responsibility for any bodily injury or harm to come from this ad. Sacrificial ritual tutorials not included. Please check out your local place of worship for more details before committing any acts of mutilation.)

AND WE’RE BACK FOLKS! SORRY ABOUT THE AD. LITERALLY NOBODY ELSE WILL SPONSOR US SO YEAH WE’RE HAVING TO RESORT TO UH… YEAH. ANYWAYS, LET’S GET BACK TO THE RATINGS!

COMING IN 2ND… AARIN!!! boy oh boy my love of supernatural entities is surely not warping my bias here!!! they seem really cool honestly, even besides the whole angel thing. like woah…. you don’t wanna be a tool used for destruction? too bad! you’re gonna be used to burn down a house! lmao!!!! also i absolutely love aarin’s design. their scars(?) are so fucking cool i love the swirlies. auuygghh so normal about angel guys….. so so normal……….

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, IN 1ST PLACE…. ZURIEL!!! LET ME JUST SAY ITS DESIGN IS SO SO SO SO COOL I CANT GET OVER IT IT JUST LOOKS SO AWESOME. I love the gradients on the claws and the shape of the halo. once again, surely my bias and love for supernatural creatures is in no way warping my opinion!! it’s my favorite. also rare but appreciated and loved it/it’s pronouns representation.

[sachiko6243]

The good old Doc - Part 16

Missed the start? No problem, here is the first part, the following ones are always linked at the end, so you dont have to search endlessly. 😉

Summary: Lieutenant Lilith Adams enlisted back in the military, only to be met with a certain cocky pilot. Overcoming certain past traumas, she tries to fit in with the team of pilots as their personal medic. Soon finding her stuck between a certain good looking aviator and her work morals.

This is a series which is currently in the making, so I don’t exactly know how long it is going to be. 😊

Word count: 1949

Warning: Description of injury, operation, grief

Next part: in progress

Pov Lilith:

I didn’t know how much time had passed, but we were able to get Rooster back to the living. Luckily, we managed to get a heartbeat seconds after we transferred him on the operating table. “Apollo, whats the time of him being out?” I asked, swinging my body down from Rooster. “1 minute and 43 seconds.” Apollo answered, helping me out of my bullet proof vest. I could feel my uniform sticking to my body, drenching the floor around me in blood and water. I tilted my head for Apollo to take off my helmet and put on a mask. Cookie had given Rooster two shots of Adrenaline and was now getting an IV into his arm, for further injections. Beetle burst through the door, bags of blood in his hands. “Do we have him secured for sterilization?” I asked. Everyone around me nodded and was giving a yes.

“Good. I need, Beetle, Cookie, Apollo and Bambi with me. The others get out and stay on alert for further call ins.” I ordered, walking towards the door, to get my hands washed. After that, Apollo helped me into my operating gown, gloves and a new mask. The others were getting ready as well. Fully focusing on the man in front of me, I made the first cut, starting to get the bullets out. Cookie took her place at Roosters head, as an anesthetist she was watching over his stats. Bambi stepped next to me, handing me the scalpel, and taking the bullets and metal shards I handed her. Apollo and Beetle were on the other side, working Roosters left.

With every bullet I fished out of his body, the amount of blood spilling from the wounds got bigger and bigger, to the point, where I assigned Beetle to cauterize the places, where we extracted the bullets. He was working relentlessly, clamping down arteries, sewing up the entry wounds, but Rooster was losing too much blood. I send out Bambi to fetch new bags, hoping she would return in time.

After we worked his front, we carefully turned him over, inspecting the exit wounds. Luckily for us, there were much less, and we quickly fixed him up. The amount of metal, laying next to Rooster in tiny trays made me want to cry. I was sure if we would have weight him before and after, it would be measurable. Stepping away, I let out a heavy sigh. “Get him hooked up to pain medication. I want him in an induced coma for at least the upcoming 48 hours. He needs to heal properly. The damage done to his wounds might not be bearable in a wake condition. I will head out and talk to the team. When I am finished, he better be sleeping in a sealed off environment.” I ordered, walking out the doors. Throwing the operating gown, mask and gloves in a trashcan, I stepped up to the team, signaling them to follow me, in order to clear the hallway for Rooster.

When we reached an empty room, I offered them to sit down, but they all refused. “How is he?” Phoenix asked, tears clearly staining her cheeks. I took a deep breath starting my report: “We got him back to the living. He lost a big amount of blood, but we were able to get all the bullets out of him and the majority of his wounds treated. He is still internally bleeding, but we couldn’t cauterize it, since the damage done with the heat would out do the actual wound. I put him into an induced coma for the next 48 hours, so we can monitor his healing process and step in, if there would be an emergency without having to take him out twice. As far as I am aware, the damage done to his body will heal to the point where I expect him to be cleared for duty again, taking in the possibility of him stepping out on his own.”

The relief in the room was thick as it could be. Phoenix stumbled towards me, hugging me. “Thank you, Lilith. You don’t know, what it means to us. We owe you big time.” I pealed her off me, facing Maverick. He was standing in the back, fist clenched to his side, face rigidly holding back emotions. “Can we see him?” He asked, looking at me. I shook my head. “No. I ordered to get him under a sterile and sealed environment. Giving the fact, that we don’t have enough sterile suits, I would rather have them used to monitor him and step in at emergencies. You can although have a look at him from the door, since the closed off space would start behind plastic walls.” I started to walk out the door, the team on my heels. On the way, I radioed Cookie, asking her, where she put Rooster.

I stepped back, letting the team see their comrade in peace. When everyone had their turn, I closed the door, shutting them out. Taking deep breaths I hooked my tablet to the machines in the room, connecting them to it, so that I would be alerted any time should something happen. Then I took a look at him. He was breathing regularly, a small tube extending from his stomach, draining the blood to release pressure. It should be removable the next time someone would do one of the regular checks on him. I typed the information down on my tablet, sharing it with the other medics. Beetle sent me a file with shifts to watch Rooster for the next 48 hours. He would be under constant watch until we would wake him up from his coma. My first round would be the night shift, so I had a few hours to get some food and sleep in.

Knocking on the plastic wall softly, I said my goodbyes and joined the team outside. “We are having him under constant watch, until he wakes up.” I started, right when Beetle turned the corner. “One of us will be by his side at any given moment, making sure there are no complications. I will be holding the first night watch, so if you would excuse me, I need some food, a shower and a little bit of sleep.” The team nodded, parting ways with me. “We will wait for you in my office.” Cyclone said. “Bring some food, there are things I want to talk to you, before you go to sleep.”

I gave him a quick thumbs up, making my way to the shared quarters with Phoenix. After a short shower and a trip to the mess hall, I steered towards Cyclones office. I knew I would get an earful, for my actions, but right now I didn’t care. Rooster was safe. And if that meant my termination, so be it. Knocking on his door, I entered the room, once he called out for me. The whole team was sitting or leaning against the wall and I took my position in the middle of the room, saluting towards Cyclone in his office chair. Then I switched into the rigid stand we were to hold when accepting orders. He looked at me, than the food on the tray I brought. “Sit down.” He said, waving towards the chair behind me. I pulled it towards his desk, still not touching the food my body longed for.

“Eat. I know you are hungry and we need to safe time.” He ordered, looking through some files. I started eating, not daring to look him in the eyes. “You disobeyed a direct command, risking not only your life, but also the life of Lieutenant Seresin, Captain Mickey Lautner and his team by doing so. Those actions require me to terminate your position as a Lieutenant in the navy.” He paused, closing the files. “But that’s not what I am going to do. You showed the willpower of risking you own life to safe others. That’s worth a navy cross, due to you showing extraordinary heroism in combat.” I looked up with wide eyes, taking in the sight of Cyclone shoving a wooden box over his table. “Take it, before I decide otherwise.” Cyclone grumbled, jumpstarting me to grasp for the wooden box.

I took the navy cross out of the velvety bed, pinning it onto my uniform. Now the two rows of service ribbons were filled. Existing of my navy pistol marksmanship, the navy rifle marksmanship and the navy basic military training as an honor graduate in the first row. And in the second row consisting of my navy and marine corps overseas service, the Afghanistan campaign medal and now my navy cross. “Thank you, Admiral.” I stood up, saluting rigidly. Behind me, my team clapped shortly, before Cyclone stared them down. “Seresin.” He called out, causing my boyfriend to step forward. “Yes, Admiral.”

Cyclone threw a second wooden box at him. “That’s your navy cross. Even though I don’t want to give you one, you deserve it for saving Lieutenant Adams. But take this as a warning. Another stunt like this, and both of your asses get thrown out. Am I clear?” Saluting simultaneously, Jake and I squeezed out a “Yes, Admiral.”

Jake was now also pinning his navy cross to his uniform, closing his third row of ribbons. I smiled up at him, not daring to move and touch him, but the way he looked at me, told me everything I needed to know. He was proud. “You are dismissed. I expect to be reported about Lieutenant Bradshaws status, as soon as something changes.” Cyclone was still using his commanding voice, clearly fed up and overwhelmed with the whole situation. Nearly bolting out of his office, the team and I made our way to the mess hall, trying to relax. Jake had an arm wrapped around me, smiling softly: “Maybe we should write Rooster a card and thank him for his sacrifice for our navy crosses.” I hit him in the stomach. “You are evil. The only card he will get from us is a get well soon one. And if I ever hear you making fun of him being shot down, I will kick your ass!”

“Not even a little bit?” He asked, giving me puppy eyes.

“Are you trying to get on my nerves, Seresin? Because right now they are as strained as they can be. I have no energy for your dumb jokes. So, spare me with it.” I growled, not caring how my voice sounded. It might have been harsher, than I intended, because Jake immediately backed off, skidding over towards Javy. I sighted. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. The whole situation has me on edge and I needed an outlet.”

Jake reached out for me, pulling me into his side. “I know, darlin. I shouldn’t have said that. It was tactless and hurtful. I just don’t know how to deal with all of it. Rooster is like a brother to me. Even though we have this rivalry going on, I wouldn’t change one thing about it. And when he dies….” He shook his head, stopping midsentence.

The whole team had their heads hanging low. Nobody really knew what to say, or how to change the mood. Deciding I wanted to try and get some sleep in, I got up: “I am heading to bed. If something happens, I will let you know. Try to keep the schedule running as good as possible. There is not much you can do right now, rather than wait and do whats necessary.” Nodding at my words, the rest waved their goodbyes.

***

Pov Lilith:

I didn’t know how much time had passed, but we were able to get Rooster back to the living. Luckily, we managed to get a heartbeat seconds after we transferred him on the operating table. “Apollo, whats the time of him being out?” I asked, swinging my body down from Rooster. “1 minute and 43 seconds.” Apollo answered, helping me out of my bullet proof vest. I could feel my uniform sticking to my body, drenching the floor around me in blood and water. I tilted my head for Apollo to take off my helmet and put on a mask. Cookie had given Rooster two shots of Adrenaline and was now getting an IV into his arm, for further injections. Beetle burst through the door, bags of blood in his hands. “Do we have him secured for sterilization?” I asked. Everyone around me nodded and was giving a yes.

“Good. I need, Beetle, Cookie, Apollo and Bambi with me. The others get out and stay on alert for further call ins.” I ordered, walking towards the door, to get my hands washed. After that, Apollo helped me into my operating gown, gloves and a new mask. The others were getting ready as well. Fully focusing on the man in front of me, I made the first cut, starting to get the bullets out. Cookie took her place at Roosters head, as an anesthetist she was watching over his stats. Bambi stepped next to me, handing me the scalpel, and taking the bullets and metal shards I handed her. Apollo and Beetle were on the other side, working Roosters left.

With every bullet I fished out of his body, the amount of blood spilling from the wounds got bigger and bigger, to the point, where I assigned Beetle to cauterize the places, where we extracted the bullets. He was working relentlessly, clamping down arteries, sewing up the entry wounds, but Rooster was losing too much blood. I send out Bambi to fetch new bags, hoping she would return in time.

After we worked his front, we carefully turned him over, inspecting the exit wounds. Luckily for us, there were much less, and we quickly fixed him up. The amount of metal, laying next to Rooster in tiny trays made me want to cry. I was sure if we would have weight him before and after, it would be measurable. Stepping away, I let out a heavy sigh. “Get him hooked up to pain medication. I want him in an induced coma for at least the upcoming 48 hours. He needs to heal properly. The damage done to his wounds might not be bearable in a wake condition. I will head out and talk to the team. When I am finished, he better be sleeping in a sealed off environment.” I ordered, walking out the doors. Throwing the operating gown, mask and gloves in a trashcan, I stepped up to the team, signaling them to follow me, in order to clear the hallway for Rooster.

When we reached an empty room, I offered them to sit down, but they all refused. “How is he?” Phoenix asked, tears clearly staining her cheeks. I took a deep breath starting my report: “We got him back to the living. He lost a big amount of blood, but we were able to get all the bullets out of him and the majority of his wounds treated. He is still internally bleeding, but we couldn’t cauterize it, since the damage done with the heat would out do the actual wound. I put him into an induced coma for the next 48 hours, so we can monitor his healing process and step in, if there would be an emergency without having to take him out twice. As far as I am aware, the damage done to his body will heal to the point where I expect him to be cleared for duty again, taking in the possibility of him stepping out on his own.”

The relief in the room was thick as it could be. Phoenix stumbled towards me, hugging me. “Thank you, Lilith. You don’t know, what it means to us. We owe you big time.” I pealed her off me, facing Maverick. He was standing in the back, fist clenched to his side, face rigidly holding back emotions. “Can we see him?” He asked, looking at me. I shook my head. “No. I ordered to get him under a sterile and sealed environment. Giving the fact, that we don’t have enough sterile suits, I would rather have them used to monitor him and step in at emergencies. You can although have a look at him from the door, since the closed off space would start behind plastic walls.” I started to walk out the door, the team on my heels. On the way, I radioed Cookie, asking her, where she put Rooster.

I stepped back, letting the team see their comrade in peace. When everyone had their turn, I closed the door, shutting them out. Taking deep breaths I hooked my tablet to the machines in the room, connecting them to it, so that I would be alerted any time should something happen. Then I took a look at him. He was breathing regularly, a small tube extending from his stomach, draining the blood to release pressure. It should be removable the next time someone would do one of the regular checks on him. I typed the information down on my tablet, sharing it with the other medics. Beetle sent me a file with shifts to watch Rooster for the next 48 hours. He would be under constant watch until we would wake him up from his coma. My first round would be the night shift, so I had a few hours to get some food and sleep in.

Knocking on the plastic wall softly, I said my goodbyes and joined the team outside. “We are having him under constant watch, until he wakes up.” I started, right when Beetle turned the corner. “One of us will be by his side at any given moment, making sure there are no complications. I will be holding the first night watch, so if you would excuse me, I need some food, a shower and a little bit of sleep.” The team nodded, parting ways with me. “We will wait for you in my office.” Cyclone said. “Bring some food, there are things I want to talk to you, before you go to sleep.”

I gave him a quick thumbs up, making my way to the shared quarters with Phoenix. After a short shower and a trip to the mess hall, I steered towards Cyclones office. I knew I would get an earful, for my actions, but right now I didn’t care. Rooster was safe. And if that meant my termination, so be it. Knocking on his door, I entered the room, once he called out for me. The whole team was sitting or leaning against the wall and I took my position in the middle of the room, saluting towards Cyclone in his office chair. Then I switched into the rigid stand we were to hold when accepting orders. He looked at me, than the food on the tray I brought. “Sit down.” He said, waving towards the chair behind me. I pulled it towards his desk, still not touching the food my body longed for.

“Eat. I know you are hungry and we need to safe time.” He ordered, looking through some files. I started eating, not daring to look him in the eyes. “You disobeyed a direct command, risking not only your life, but also the life of Lieutenant Seresin, Captain Mickey Lautner and his team by doing so. Those actions require me to terminate your position as a Lieutenant in the navy.” He paused, closing the files. “But that’s not what I am going to do. You showed the willpower of risking you own life to safe others. That’s worth a navy cross, due to you showing extraordinary heroism in combat.” I looked up with wide eyes, taking in the sight of Cyclone shoving a wooden box over his table. “Take it, before I decide otherwise.” Cyclone grumbled, jumpstarting me to grasp for the wooden box.

I took the navy cross out of the velvety bed, pinning it onto my uniform. Now the two rows of service ribbons were filled. Existing of my navy pistol marksmanship, the navy rifle marksmanship and the navy basic military training as an honor graduate in the first row. And in the second row consisting of my navy and marine corps overseas service, the Afghanistan campaign medal and now my navy cross. “Thank you, Admiral.” I stood up, saluting rigidly. Behind me, my team clapped shortly, before Cyclone stared them down. “Seresin.” He called out, causing my boyfriend to step forward. “Yes, Admiral.”

Cyclone threw a second wooden box at him. “That’s your navy cross. Even though I don’t want to give you one, you deserve it for saving Lieutenant Adams. But take this as a warning. Another stunt like this, and both of your asses get thrown out. Am I clear?” Saluting simultaneously, Jake and I squeezed out a “Yes, Admiral.”

Jake was now also pinning his navy cross to his uniform, closing his third row of ribbons. I smiled up at him, not daring to move and touch him, but the way he looked at me, told me everything I needed to know. He was proud. “You are dismissed. I expect to be reported about Lieutenant Bradshaws status, as soon as something changes.” Cyclone was still using his commanding voice, clearly fed up and overwhelmed with the whole situation. Nearly bolting out of his office, the team and I made our way to the mess hall, trying to relax. Jake had an arm wrapped around me, smiling softly: “Maybe we should write Rooster a card and thank him for his sacrifice for our navy crosses.” I hit him in the stomach. “You are evil. The only card he will get from us is a get well soon one. And if I ever hear you making fun of him being shot down, I will kick your ass!”

“Not even a little bit?” He asked, giving me puppy eyes.

“Are you trying to get on my nerves, Seresin? Because right now they are as strained as they can be. I have no energy for your dumb jokes. So, spare me with it.” I growled, not caring how my voice sounded. It might have been harsher, than I intended, because Jake immediately backed off, skidding over towards Javy. I sighted. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. The whole situation has me on edge and I needed an outlet.”

Jake reached out for me, pulling me into his side. “I know, darlin. I shouldn’t have said that. It was tactless and hurtful. I just don’t know how to deal with all of it. Rooster is like a brother to me. Even though we have this rivalry going on, I wouldn’t change one thing about it. And when he dies….” He shook his head, stopping midsentence.

The whole team had their heads hanging low. Nobody really knew what to say, or how to change the mood. Deciding I wanted to try and get some sleep in, I got up: “I am heading to bed. If something happens, I will let you know. Try to keep the schedule running as good as possible. There is not much you can do right now, rather than wait and do whats necessary.” Nodding at my words, the rest waved their goodbyes.

taglist: @hardballoonlove / @themorriganwitch

[angelo-the-doctor-of-feelings]

hi! i heard youre good with the whole shebang of feelings. so ive come to you for some advice, which you dont need to respond to if you dont want to. [also maybe tw? im not sure]

i forced myself to see some extremely distressing imagery three years ago. ever since then, I've had issues with it. it'll just pop up in my brain and not go away, and it causes me to have an anxiety attack typically, until i scribble it down hastily. is this a normal reaction to extremely disturbing images?? or could it be a sign of a bigger issue presenting itself to me as this??

thanks for any insight!

-R

Hello, R! 🧡

Forcing yourself to see these imagines doesn't sound like a good idea! Why did you do that?

From my experience, I still have nightmares from what happened a few years ago, which is a trauma response.

Yours could be a trauma response too, but I cannot tell with this little information. It doesn't have to be though. If it's fear related, then you might be afraid of the imagery & therefore your anxiety returns to you.

Trauma is an emotional or physical response to one or more physically harmful or life threatening events or circumstances with lasting adverse effects on your mental and physical well-being, according to the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMSHA).

This could be an event you’ve personally experienced, witnessed happening to someone else, heard about happening to a close loved one, or heard about through your job (e.g., first responder, social worker, therapist).

Seeing something incredibly threatening counts as well.

Your description of these images recurring to you frequently could stem from a trauma response, which could be clinically significant (such as PTSD & other conditions that fall under 'trauma and stressor-related disorders'). It doesn't have to, though, it could be something else:

Here is the definition of trauma in the DSM-5 which is required for diagnosing PTSD:

It requires “actual or threatened de4th, serious injury, or [other*] violence” (p. 271). Stressful events not involving an immediate threat to life or physical injury such as psychosocial stressors (e.g., divorce or job loss) are not considered trauma in this definition.

* I didn't feel comfortable with typing that one out, but I think we all know what that might be

In the DSM-4, your response to a traumatic event was factored into the diagnosis, namely whether you felt overwhelming fear, helplessness, or horror. In the DSM-5, this criterion was removed because many felt it’s such a common symptom that it can’t accurately predict whether you’ll develop PTSD.

So, I other words, it could be NOT clinically significant today.

I do want you to know that your individual experiences is valid!

✨️ Have a warm hug & some turtle taps on your head! ✨️

I hope Dr. Feelings was able to help out a bit! 🧡✨️

[daughterofninemoons]

Little vent

1. i got into a silly little debate with someone about how because I dont have a depressing traumatic backstory and grew up relatively accepting household i “shouldn’t complain about gender dysphoria”i could probably write a college thesis length paper on how dumb this is but it mostly boils down to: just because your suffering or the suffering of someone else is worse than yours does NOT mean that you dont get the right to complain and open up. To get it through your thick skulls its like breaking a bone and losing a limb, sure one is worse than the other and has longer lasting impact, but a broken bone is still serious and both are deserving of care, someone else having a worse injury does not invalidate the broken bone persons need for medical attention

2. stop hating on gen alpha. By hating on gen alpha you are just continuing the cycle of hatred, even if you think it’s stupid is it more dumb than the shit you did when you were eight or nine? (the answer is no, its not stupid you just refuse to accept that culture is a growing entity) By remaining rooted in place on topics of modern culture you become the very people that you swore you wouldn’t be, the people that hate because they dont understand the nuances of a topic, you become like boomers who hate technology and long for “the good old days”

3. Not everyone falls under your narrative. Not every transfem wants to be called brave for just being themselves, not every psychotic person is a threat to yours or others safety, not every depressed person is always mopey and sad, not every woman in a primarily masculine field is a slay queen girlboss, identity is messy and trying to quantify anything about it into numbers or boxes is impossible

4. Sometimes there doesn’t need to be a “devils advocate” I recently had a situation where someone was arguing in favor of neo-nazi ideals under the banner of devils advocate. If you always play the role of devils advocate maybe take a step back and assess if youre devils advocate or just racist

5. If you want people to “be themselves” then quit fucking shaming them for being themselves. Someone opening up and not turning out to fit your expectations of being this cool sexy shy nerdy (but not in the bad way!!!!) softie is no excuse to shame them for being a nonstandard human being. Accepting everyone means everyone not just the ones that fit your story

6. Just because you intended something as a joke doesn’t mean it didn’t affect someone. Back in the good old days of middle school so many people made SA/Rape jokes and when one of my friends who had been a victim of sexual abuse had a breakdown because of all the reminders of her trauma and started telling people to please stop they all just said “its a joke” and continued. You dont know what someone else has been through and as a rule of thumb only joke about something if the person youre poking fun at has joked about it themselves

7. You dont owe anyone anything just because you had any kind of relationship with them. I hear way to often “but you were friends for so long” and “but hes your dad” If someone treated you poorly you have full rights to cut contact whenever, you have the right to hate them and not want anything to do with them, the only way you should love someone is because you love them, not because they did something for you or because anything besides YOUR decision

8. Please please please stop swooning over serial killers, narcissists, sex criminals, and abusers. Those people have RUINED LIVES, they deserve to be HATED with your whole soul. THEY ARE CALLED TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS BECAUSE THEY WILL FUCKING POISON YOU. STOP ROMANTICIZING ABUSE AND STOP FUCKING FEEDING THESE PIECES OF HUMAN FILTH WITH ANY FUCKING SHRED OF KINDNESS

9. Personal one but holy fuck stop shipping real people and children. Those are not writers constructs who dont exist those are people with hopes, dreams, memories, sadness, emotion, and story that you are treating as a fucking object to be paired with another object because “it would be so cute”. If you ship children i will find you and i will tear out your intestines to fucking string up like holiday garland

10. Specific one but stop treating trans people’s deadnames like just another name, at least to me everytime i hear it i get this bigass wave of dysphoria, if i poke fun at my brother and call him a name for, you know, existing as my sibling or doing something he will respond with “ok [deadname]” and it just hurts on a visceral level

vent over

[tteokdoroki]

he’s like snowfall | s.todoroki ʚ !! ɞ

❧ ;  SYNOPSIS. the idol group XHEROEZ is due to perform in america for the first time and as their beloved makeup artist— you’re expected to go with them. now... this would be the vacation of a life time, if it weren’t for their a-grade asshole vocalist, shouto todoroki.

❧ ; cpu characters. shouto todoroki x gn!reader.

❧ ; word count. 17.4K

❧ ; genre + rating. kpop idol!au, enemies to lovers!au, angst, fluff, smut, 18+, minors do not interact !!

❧ ; game warnings. - proceed with caution !! characters are in their twenties, todoroki being an asshole, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, handjobs, praise!kink, mentions of injury ( broken leg ), snow storms, being snowed in.

❧ ; streamer commentary. merry belated christmas? i hope you guys enjoy this fic, for me it was a little challenge to write since i dont write for shouto much!! but the plot was super cool to work with. this is a winter wonderland gift from emme’s server for @killerdabi !! <3 m.list. + tip jar. special thanks to @prinvil, @jirou-s + @bakugous-trauma for beta reading !! and to @shiggysvixen-archive for the idol group name <3

people always dream of being remembered for something when they die.

as shallow as it is, humans have an innate craving and desire to be remembered— to live their lives and go down in history for the impossible. whether that’s by breaking records or achieving the unattainable, humans crave recognition, humans crave a life that seems worth living to others.

like most people, you started out with a dream too— you wanted to dance, to sing on stage under twinkling lights and along with the harmonies of thousands of voices paired with your own. being an idol is all you’d ever thought of growing up and you did everything in your power to achieve that dream— you busted your ass throughout middle school and high school, saved up enough money to pay for your trainee days and to travel into the city every day for auditions and practice. even moving cities didn’t stop you, having to start all over again, but by fifteen, you’d signed up to a decent idol agency, worked hard on perfecting your vocals and dancing until you were sure you sounded like an angel from high heavens and you moved as fluid as the water rushing through streams and everything looked like it was going your way.

your debut was coming up on the horizon, the flavour of your chance to make your mark on the world just dashing across the tip of your tongue— the stage was so close, your purpose in life even closer and you could almost touch it.

at least until you couldn’t.

an injury to your right leg takes you out just weeks before your debut, the healing time far longer than your first ever performance scheduled for the big stage. the group you’d been preparing to be a part of to introduce themselves to the world while you recovered back in your hometown, blankets mounted high to block out your tears at night. you’re left dreamless and hopeless, unable to stand on your own two feet from then on— both physically and mentally. what good is a person who can’t support themselves? what life is worth living when you shoot for the stars and miss, crashing right back down to earth? the questions plague you every night, burn in your throat while you fight back tears and the urge to howl your pain at the silver moon.

however, the second company you’d started under after moving was severely understaffed and lacked organisation and maybe this was the universe giving you a second chance to grasp at your dreams. you helped where you could, using your natural and honed talent for dancing to help choreograph routines between attempting to do stage makeup on the trainees and other artists using tips from old fashion magazines you read on the trains home. if you couldn’t be on stage, then you’d damn well be right there beside it. when your injury gives out a year later and you can no longer keep up with the idols in dance, the stars are forgiving and the agency keeps you on as a makeup artist until you can have your surgery. while you don’t mind your job, prettying artists at the agency you had helped build from the ground— it's nowhere near where you want to be, there’s no glitz nor glamour, no millions of fans waiting to hear the part of your lips and a soulful tune reverberating in your throat...not as a makeup artist.

no one will remember you and your dedication from behind the stage curtain.

but if you could help others achieve their goals and dreams where you had failed, then so be it. you would push twice as hard, work even more just for them to break through earth’s barrier and float in the comfort of space and become one of its shining stars. that’s how you ended up working for the idol group, XHEROEZ— the underdogs of the idol industry and your little old company’s pride and joy. the members; kirishima, bakugou, deku and todoroki had debuted almost five years ago and found themselves on a quick rise to fame after their second mini album blew up the global music scene. never in history had anyone seen an idol group break down so many walls and gather so many records under their belt in such a short amount of time.

with world wide success, came many trials and tribulations that the group faced— but they had done well under countless years of pressure and hate, the company was so incredibly proud of them and you too believed that they would continue to do well for many years to come.

working closely with the boys since they performed for the world for the first time, you’d grown increasingly fond of them as the years went by— you’d met katsuki bakugou, the leader and main rapper of XHEROEZ, during your trainee days back in middle school, remembering him as the kid who worked hard and performed even harder during your trainee evaluations. he’d done so well for himself… not only become an idol but to lead one the world’s most famous boybands too, it was nice to see a friend succeed in that way too. you’d also trained with izuku midoriya, the main vocalist and visual too, he was as sweet as can be— in both his vocals even more so towards his staff and fans alike, you couldn’t help but love him. then there was eijirou kirishima, another rapper with the most incredible dance skills you’d ever seen. there were two more members just like him, a chaotic trio consisting of the red head, hanta sero and denki kaminari— both great dancers occupying the sub-vocalist and rapper spots. they were a group of wonderful boys who never made you feel bad for failing to reach past dreaming and push past the pain to get right up there on the stage. they were the closest thing you ever had to friends, working in the industry from such an early age you gave up most of your time for friends and being a kid.

you loved them so much, all of them.

but then there was shouto todoroki.

you could shiver at the mention of his name, a cringeworthy type of feeling running laps up and down the base of your spine every time you think about him, let alone breathe next to him. in your mind, shouto todoroki is the most insufferable person that you’ve ever worked with, taking the position of centre in XHEROEZ. you know that it's wrong to barely have a reason to hate someone, but there’s something about the dual haired idol that leaves you unsettled every time that you interact— he’s a nuisance to you but the perfect idol and performer to everyone else, he’s oh so talented at what he does, never makes mistakes, appeals to his fans with his quiet charms and angelic looks, suits every concept ever made so maybe you’re projecting a little…maybe you only hate him because he’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of being…but beyond the stage, behind the curtains— you’re convinced that he’s nothing more than a lazy and privileged celebrity.

you feel that he takes the idol life for granted, todoroki lacks motivation where his group-mates excel— you don’t even know why he’s doing this, living your life so selfishly and you hate it.

you hate him.

but it’s not like these feelings aren’t reciprocated, shouto’s made it clear to you that he doesn’t like you either, especially with the way he treats you compared to other staff—maybe that’s because you don’t walk on eggshells around him and cater to his skittish, bratty moods by treating him like a god in the way that everyone else does.

“you mind doin’ your job ‘n not diggin’ out my eye with that liner?” bakugou grunts from beneath your steady working hands—effectively pulling you from the depth of your thoughts and getting you to jump right back into the task at hand, fixing the blonde’s eyeliner.

rolling your eyes playfully, you pull back gently on the skin at the corner of katsuki’s own to draw a steady flick of black liner, humming in content at how it compliments the bloody and burgundy smokey shadow you’d done on him earlier. the boys’ most recent comeback had more of a sexy concept to it, so you were often doing darker, more sleek looks for their stage performances, like the music bank one they had scheduled for today. “there y’go, dummy,” you say, barely hiding the smirk on your lips as you flick katsuki’s forehead— exposed by the clip that keeps his hair out of his face so you can work. you pass the leader a hand mirror, letting him accept your work. “that better, pretty boy?”

the blonde idol grunts again but sneers gratefully at your handy-work on his eye-makeup. “shut the fuck up,” you’re close with bakugou, izuku too— having grown up together at your previous agencies, you were comfortable enough to joke like this with one another and you found that treating the boys as your own friends helped them relax before a show. “this liner better stay put on stage.”

“foul language and doubting my skill? who knew idols could be this mean, you sure you’re in the right profession, katsuki?” you taunt back, making the performer close his eyes so you can powder him up and set down his make-up. you can tell by the quirk of his lips that he’s going to reply but a voice you hate that you had grown to recognise cuts through the backstage bustle of the dressing room.

“sorry i’m late everyone,”

and in he comes, the devil himself in the form of shouto todoroki. your eyes flit upwards as you take in his appearance— his lean body that could be mistaken for that of a dancer’s, draped in casual sweats while his hair remains ruffled and his face is slightly puffy from sleep. todoroki looks a mess, arriving late for his schedule too— which only creates more work for the members and staff around him.

“is that the half ‘n half bastard?”

bakugou all but yells, face twisted into such a comical way that between hushed giggles, you almost forget to remind him to relax so that he doesn’t ruin the makeup you’d done for him. “will you ever stop callin’ him that, man? it was funny the first few comebacks but now it’s just getting old,” kirishima speaks next, keeping his tone airy and playful as he approaches you and his hot tempered band mate. throughout the group’s history, shouto had been recognised as the member with a split dye job and katsuki’s nickname for him seemed to stick. slinking up to bakugou, who’s pouting in his chair, eijirou crosses his toned arms over the armrest. you can tell he’s just come over from hair, since there’s a curler in the red-head’s bangs and his luscious locks— so adored by his many fans— have yet to be gelled and styled into place. “and keep it down, midoriya fell asleep in the stylist chair again,”

“todoroki’s still a bastard, even without his stupid half ‘n half hair. that idiot can never keep to the fuckin schedule!” bakugou scolds just loud enough for his other member to hear, todoroki rolling his eyes as he passes by you to check in with another stylist. you don’t miss the way he glares at you too, making you scoff and find distraction in touching up bakugou’s slight lip colour.

“whatever you say, bakugou,” kirishima hums at his leader’s words but easily distracts himself from the tension between his two members by watching you gently pat some glitter into the inner corner of bakugou’s eye for the finishing touch of his stage makeup. “oh wow! you think i could get a look like that for this stage, yn? y’always do such a great job!”

katsuki is quick to jump in. “trust me, y’don’t want them doin’ your makeup, they almost jabbed my fuckin’ eye out.”

pinching his ear with one hand and smiling gently, you point your brush in kirishima’s direction and shake your head. “next time eiji, i’m sure mina will do a great job on your make-up today,” you remind him softly, holding your smile until the rapper is called to his chair for the rest of his styling. you slump after that, poking a resting katsuki in the cheek with the same brush, pouting at him.

“what?” he spits, eyes still closed.

“i don’t wanna be done with your makeup” you whinge, poking the leader of the group again. “i don’t want them to make me work on todoroki next,”

bakugou cracks an eye open, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his lips— annoyance written across the rest of his face since you’re disturbing his only rest before the performance. “you still have kaminari and sero t’work on. good luck with that,” he offers up to you, but you’re not sure if you want to work with that chaotic duo either...they never sit still long enough for you to finish their looks. “dunno why y’hate half ‘n half so much either. he’s not a bad kid, he’s just got a bad fuckin’ attitude and a weird way of approaching things sometimes.”

mouth opening and closing, you don’t bother to argue with bakugou anymore— for he’s already leaning back in his chair to get some shut eye before the show. you hate that he’s right, that he makes you see how illogical it is for you to hold such a grudge against shouto todoroki...but you can’t seem to help it, a burning rage simmering underneath your skin every time the red and white haired male so much as breathes near you. you don’t dwell on the thought however, your magic hands and work was needed elsewhere, so you drift off deeper into the dressing room to try and pin down sero and kaminari for their stage makeup.

about five minutes before the stage, the CEO of your company, fierce wings entertainment — keigo takami, otherwise known as hawks, swings by the boys’ dressing room for a last minute pep talk. all six of the artists you work for gather in a circle around their boss, energy flowing and hearts racing at the thought of being able to sing their hearts out on stage for their fans. “try not to overwork yourselves on stage today, kids,” hawks starts sternly, looking each of the boys in their eye. “we’re jettin’ off to the states for biggest show of your lives tomorrow. the jingle ball. so imma need all of you in tip top shape!”

“yes sir!”

keigo grips the boys by their shoulders, shaking them a little more to emphasise his point. “it doesn’t matter if you don’t bank a music show win today, we’re onto bigger and better things right now.”

“we’ll still aim for a top spot, we didn’t work this hard for nothin’!” sero quips proudly, and denki throws a thumbs up into the circle in agreement.

deku nods too, seemingly shaking the sleep out of his eyes to psych himself up too. “we’ll try our best hawks-san! we won’t let you down!”

the energy is flowing, excitement trickling into the idol group and you stand on the sidelines— wishing so badly be a part of something like this too. kirishima puts his closed fist into the circle for a fist bump, boosting all of XHEROEZ’s morale for the show. “we got this guys, just remember,” he winks, showing off his toothy smile. “we can’t lose as much energy as todoroki, not when he doesn’t have any to begin with!”

the quick roast to todoroki is harmless and seems to send the group into a frenzy of happy and nerve calming laughter— just what they needed, although you don’t miss the way todoroki himself scoffs as the boys do their best not to ruffle his perfectly crimped hair. with a quick thanks from hawks and a congratulations for their hard work, XHEROEZ is ushered onto a stage with an audience of screaming fans waiting to hear their newest title track.

you watch them effortlessly perform their choreo and carry their vocals over the monitor in the dressing room, swallowing to keep the green eyed monster of jealously down in the pits of your stomach. that should be you, you should be up there on stage with hundreds of people screaming your name but instead, you’re here with a stupid broken body that won’t move the way it used to and a broken heart that just isn’t in your dreams anymore.

the boys are all perfect, moving in harmony and your heart jumps as todoroki takes over the screen, heavenly voice dancing through the speakers and taking you right to heaven. you hate that he’s so perfect, so flawless without even having gone to rehearsals. you hate him, you hate him, you—!

“you’re still up to the challenge in the states, right?” hawks interrupts your self-destructive and chaotic train of thoughts, a hand on your shoulder as he comes to join you watch the performance. “america is a whole new playing field for these boys, it’ll be nothing morning like back home.”

keeping your eyes on the monitor, you nod, not wavered by the blonde’s words. “yeah i am,” your voice doesn’t waver, but your face twists when todoroki appears on screen again. “i hope you’re not doubting me, keigo, sir.”

he chuckles in response. “no, never,” he’s not looking at you, but you can tell that keigo is amused. out of every artist and member of staff at fast wings entertainment— you had been with the company the longest and had shown your loyalty to him through the highest of highs and lowest of lows. he understood you, understood how you struggled when you couldn’t debut due to your injury and how it was to sit on the sidelines and watch everything you’ve ever planned for yourself be lived out by someone else. “i’m glad you stayed on with us...even after your injury. i really appreciate everything you’ve done for this company and for these boys. they’d both be nothing without you.”

your leg throbs at the mention of your injury but when you spare a glance at hawks, his head is tipped back and eyes are closed with his infectious grin. “yanno, shouto kinda reminds me of you in some ways. especially as a trainee,” hawks says quietly, patting your shoulder again. “he’s a perfectionist, don’t ya know?”

hawks leaves you then for an incoming phone call, something about the flights for tomorrow and you scoff to yourself, finding the fact hard to believe.

you and shouto todoroki were nothing alike.

how could you be? when his idol group was bringing back a sixth award for their comeback while you were just their lowly makeup artist.

you do rise to the challenge hawks had set for you, but almost thirty minutes late.

hitting snooze on your alarm at the start of one of the biggest weeks of your career had almost cost you a flight from japan to the US to help the boys perform at jingle bell— and now after a fight with your luggage and an angry phone call to your taxi driver, you were rushing through the airport to meet up with the rest of the team taking XHEROEZ abroad to perform. with a text to hawks you’d located the group just outside of a coffee shop, decked out in masks and shades to hide the identities of the idols as they lounge about and wait for their early morning flight.

relieved that you haven’t missed anything, you rush over, tailed by your stupid two-wheel suit case which bumps the back of your sneakers every once in a while. you look down to fix the damn thing when you suddenly collide with a warm wall of flesh— an even warmer, almost scalding liquid seeping through the fabric of your shirt but for some reason you find that you’re moving to apologise first.

“i’m sorry—“ that is until you look up. grey and cerulean eyes bore deep into your own while the green eyed beast of jealousy makes its home in your chest cavity— pressed up against bare bone and your slippery organs as they struggle to let the oxygen rattle through you. “shouto.”

the apologetic tone in your voice falls flat as you realise the dual toned idol was the culprit of bumping into you, dumping his sticky early morning latte loaded with sugar and cream and all sorts of syrups all over you. you see a smirk twist on his lips, just barely indicated by the quirk in the corner of his mouth and it makes you vibrate with a flash of red, in the shade of rage. you hate him.

“watch where you’re going,” todoroki says cool and collected, he utters your name once before bringing his cup to his lips— seemingly having saved half of his drink from ending up on you. “wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

it takes all of your strength and the will to keep your job to stop yourself from knocking out the idol group member. “you should watch it,” comes your malicious snarl, that only serves to fuel the kind of hold todoroki has over you. he stands up, straightening his back as he towers over you and hums with disinterest— as if your little interaction is entertaining him while it serves to piss you off more.

“why? i’m the one with an insured face. you’re the one with a job to do.”

god, that lazy cocky bastard was going to make you lose it.

mimicking his stance, you too straighten your back and puff out your chest a little bit, steeling your eyes as you counter him with your own argument. “well I’d be able to do that job if you weren’t always running late you little—“

“there you two are! we were beginning to think you were late!” your arrival to the scene is noticed by the sweetheart, deku, first and you smile brightly— or as best as you can— while he approaches, watching his own corner of his lips quirk down to a frown when he senses the tension between you and his bandmate. “oh.”

yeah, oh.

todoroki shrugs, seemingly more interested in bothering a tired bakugou than a tired you and fucks off elsewhere, leaving hanta to your rescue. god bless him and the baby wipes he’s being made to hold in his carry on. hawks gives a quick briefing of the days schedule when everyone is finally gathered together, yawns interjecting his fast paced speech as he does so. “there’s gonna be very little time between landing, checking in and sound check so be sure to eat up on the plane. use the company card.” his words only earning groans from the idols and their team.

“but plane food sucks,” kaminari whines, the only way you could tell it was him was from the signature twang in his voice fans seemed to love— for a black baseball cap covers his electric yellow hair. the sub vocalist flings himself over bakugou, amber irises swirling with fake tears as he begs the other blonde to do something about their brutal schedule.

sneering with annoyance, bakugou can’t help but agree. “we gotta find time to eat, boss. denki’s brain won’t last that long.”

“hey!”

“i’ll treat you to room service when we land, team dinner after rehearsals. is that a deal?” the CEO taps his bottom lip, grinning when everyone nods in agreement. “don’t forget, we’ll be vlogging the experience for the XHEROEZ youtube channel. feel free to record whenever you’re ready. cameras are on jirou, okay guys?” another nod from the idols.

all except for todoroki.

you don’t even have to be near him to feel the annoyance radiation’s from his body— hearing it in the scoff he lets out and the way kirishima’s sneakers scuff against the squeaky clean airport floor as he pushes the red head away, the rapper claiming that vlogging could be pretty fun. another way to connect with their fans.

rolling your eyes, you cross your sticky coffee glazed arms. “of course he wouldn’t wanna film,” your cool gaze meets shouto’s from between your fellow coworkers and the idols you work for, he shivers as if he’s gotten frost bite but you don’t break eye contact— elbowing katsuki to deliver the rest of your joke. “he’s too lazy to keep up with his usual schedule,”

the boys let out a chorus of ooo’s, deku swatting you for your words, kirishima pouting with his arms protectively around the aforementioned male while sero and kaminari burst into a fit of laughter— you barely gauge a reaction from their leader, who shakes his head at your antics. you would have taken this a win against your sworn enemy, but hawks quickly brings you all together for your flight leaving at terminal three and the cameras follow— given out to each of the boys and shouto’s on screen personality begins to shine while you make your way through.

you hate that, how easily he switches from being disinterested in his life, his career, to being so alluring— dishing out fan service left and right. it was hard for you to process, how fake his emotions seem towards the very people that let him live out his dreams. todoroki shared the camera with his green haired band mate, filling the device with clips of cute expressions and asking one another about the upcoming trip— which you ignore in favour of accepting your board pass as members of staff hand them out.

“so, who has the pleasure of sitting next to me?” you coo, checking over your plane ticket for your seat number before you tuck it into your passport.

husky laugher echoes in your right ear, hanta rubbing your shoulder warmly. “heh, well about that…” he trails off, barely whispering your name.

you squint. “what about it, hanta?”

the group of performers fall silent, no one wanting to own up to the games they’d played behind your back. “well you see,” eijirou buts in next after a prompt elbow in the ribs, turning to you with his signature sharp toothed smile. “you snore on the plane and…”

“we need to get a lot of rest for this flight…” izuku chimes in next, ever so sweet— his sunspot freckles stamped over the red hue on his cheeks making it hard to stay mad at him as he guides you onto the plane— shielding you from possible crazed fans even though it should be the other way around. as big as they were, private flights weren’t so affordable to the group yet so first class had to do for now, meaning odd encounters like this, even as security staff but in however. “so we…”

“oi dipshit!” seemingly having had enough of the prolonged explanation his band mates are giving you, your long time friend and rapper katsuki throws you an amused chuckle from over his shoulder. you’ll never get over how foul mouthed he is for an idol. “they played rock, paper, scissors t’see who’d sit next t’ya on the plane, ‘cause truth be told no one wants ta! you snore like a bitch.”

you gasp, nose scrunching as denial weaves its way into your voice. “i do not!”

“you do!” the members of XHEROEZ chorus, making you huff and cross your arms.

“you all suck.” comes your petulant retort. well deserved you might add, as it turns out, shouto todoroki had drawn the short end of the stick and you too— for you would both be seat mates for the next eleven and a half hours.

“don’t sleep on me.” the dual haired boy snarls as he throws his carry on into the overhead cabin, taking up the last space on your side. you shoot him a nasty glare, one that could have put him six feet under if only it could kill.

“don’t lose Rock Paper Scissors next time, asshole.”

———

arriving in the states did not go as smoothly as planned, which definitely caused your boss, keigo, some stress.

the fans in america are much more rowdy than those back home— of course all fan bases love the boys equally as much, but there were so many screams and attempts for signatures from the boys had put a little dent in the schedule as security had taken a while to help the team through the uncontrollable waves of people. it takes an extra hour to get through customs, there’s traffic between the airport and the hotel and another swarm as sleek black cars carrying japan’s most treasured idols slip through the main city of NYC to get to their hotel.

the boys, they love the attention, however— getting to greet their fans from another country is surreal and meaningful to them and the smiles never leave their faces all the way through check-in. after that, bags are dumped in rooms and they along with security and their CEO head to madison square garden for a rehearsal and to meet other artists part of the line up for this year. the rest of the staff, makeup artists and stylists, are free to roam the hotel until they get back.

a room in a five star hotel is not a luxury you could afford on your own, even with the salary you earn from working with one of the world’s biggest boy groups— the four digit numbers in your bank account wouldn’t even begin to cover the cost of the high thread count imported sheets that were neatly spread across the bed you would be staying in for the next few nights. you’d never been in a place as pretty as this, just walking through the reception as your jaw locked lower than usual, especially with the high ceilings and crystal chandeliers hanging above your head every ten steps. marble arches up high, accented by potted plants you’ve read help improve air quality, staff members and hotel clerks stop you every once in a while to offer you complimentary drinks and candy and you can’t help but be in awe.

you could never afford a place like this on your own and the very fact almost stings.

fuck it, it does sting.

because if you had made it as an idol, you would have been leading a life like this— where jetting off to new locations to perform and staying in hotels that cost more than your yearly rent for just one night would be the norm for you. you wouldn’t ever take opportunities like this for granted, counting them as blessings. but you’re here, on a job as a makeup artist and this could never just have been the result of your own hard work towards your dream. so instead, you fiddle with the tinsel taped to the underside of the desk at reception as you ask the clerk behind it whether or not the hotel does room service.

you hear him say ‘yes’ under the faint sound of christmas music played on a piano and head back upstairs to your floor, deciding to unwind and relax before your week gets too hectic. getting back to your room, you order a big american cheeseburger and fries to pair, deciding to take a hot shower to wash off the grime from your flight while you wait. the overwhelming scent of coconut milk and orchids do enough to melt the bad feelings from your brain too.

you’re halfway through throwing on a complimentary cotton robe when voices can be heard behind your door and you almost think it’s your room service order already.

“that rehearsal was complete shit,” you hear a familiar gruff voice call through your door— placing it as none other than katsuki bakugou’s, which means the boys must be back by now.

kaminari speaks next, tone mocking and playful. “s’only cause sho couldn’t follow the music, his rhythm was completely off!”

“because someone made me sit next to that god awful makeup artist of ours, i couldn’t concentrate because i barely got any sleep!” his voice seeps into the conversation buzzing between the members of XHEROEZ. it was common knowledge to anyone that neither of you liked each other, the rivalry you had seeming more one-sided on your end more than anything— but the way todoroki speaks about you now is more malicious than anything you’ve ever heard. cruel and uncaring, and it makes your stomach twist to know that he really just doesn’t like you.

the voices agree, sure your snoring is loud— they say— but they don’t think you’re god awful, they like you and that’s okay. it’s okay. at least the other boys like you, right? but todoroki doesn’t stop there, as they get closer, he only seems to grow hotter, angrier as he talks about you— a stark contrast to his cool and collected nature around you usually. “they’re so loud and inconsiderate of their noise, not to mention how they’re always picking a useless fight with me.” shouto might as well be singing his hatred towards you, mean and fervent words sewn together like lyrics to a song.

“don’t you think you’re being a little harsh? they do a lot for us, a little snoring can be ignored right?” god bless eijirou kirishima, for he defends you without a trace of doubt and your heartbeat picks up as you begin to lean against the door, waiting for todoroki to answer. why do you even care for what he has to say about you? you have no idea.

“not in the slightest,” the younger, dual haired idol retorts venomously, as if talking good about you leaves a bad taste in his mouth. they’re all right outside your door now and you can see the weight of someone you assume to be todoroki’s palm resting against your locked door handle— he hasn’t noticed yet and the other idols seem to warn him of that. deku softly reminds him that this isn’t his room, sero too but he’s too wrapped up in bitching about you to care. “what good have they done for me? if anything, my being an idol— us being idols, provided them with a job. not the other way around—!”

todoroki presses down on the handle again and you choose that exact moment to open the door, letting him stumble into your room— his last words being your final straw. your job, be it as it may, not what you wanted to do with your life...was a result of nobody else’s hard work but your own. you were the one that had gotten you this far, you had no help, you did it all on your own and god damn anyone who said your efforts were useless. you were proud of what you had achieved but that didn’t mean it hurt any less to hear someone else say you were practically worth nothing.

so you hoped it hurt shouto todoroki more to come face first with the ground while you towered over him.

the boys gasp, standing crowded around the door with sheepish expressions and apologies ready on the tips of their tongues but they all cease one they realise the force of your rage is directed at their vocalist instead of them.

“fuck,” todoroki says your name, no more than a whisper under his breath while his cool toned eyes gaze up into yours with something you can’t quite place, something that looks like remorse. “how...how much of that did you hear?”

when you gaze down at the idol, you notice the way he speaks to you slowly and the shine of his insured and shiny pink glossed lips as if to distract you with what his fans might like— as if you’re to be swayed by something like that when those same lips utter such poisonous and mean spirited words. you wonder what his fans would think if they heard shouto talk like that.

“you should be more careful with how loud you speak in public hotels like this,” you keep your voice even, don’t let your emotions slip through the cracks, not sadness and certainly not joy when you see todoroki’s bottom lip quiver nervously. “you wouldn’t want to get caught in an idol scandal, would you? you never know who’s listening.”

both todoroki and his band mates are left gobsmacked, perhaps they had been expecting a larger reaction out of you but you choose not to give either the satisfaction— slamming the door shut just within an inch of shouto’s fingers and sliding down the door to catch your breath, soothe your heartache before it starts.

the next time someone appears at your door, you wait for them to call room service before you let them in.

———

“what am i doing here again?”

you yawn, rubbing your eyes as a woollen hat not belonging to you is tugged over your head. bakugou tsks, standing half a head taller than you while he wraps you in a scarf. the other members of XHEROEZ are in similar states, yawning with their noses tucked into the fabric of their clothes to fight off the biting cold running through the new york air.

“is there something on the schedule that i missed? thought today was our day off.”

bakugou sniffs once, satisfied with his work. “s’not on the schedule. the boys and i are taking you out today,” you quirk a brow and he elaborates. “as an apology.”

flickering your stare elsewhere, you try not to think about the little show from last night or the awful words that trickled underneath your hotel room door. “for bitchin’?” the colour in your eyes finds izuku goofing off with todoroki and kaminari for their vlog and you see how seamless their bond is, something you craved for— to be part of a team like this.

“f’bitchin’, was todoroki’s idea.”

the blonde leader doesn’t say much more as the cars arrive and security loads each of the boys into them in groups of three. you end up with katsuki, sero and todoroki and the drive was as awkward as you could probably guess. apparently at the dinner you’d skipped last night, the boys found out from hawks about your failed idol career and how it landed you a job in the same industry that failed to look after you and catapult you towards your dreams, they’d learned that without you hawks’ entertainment company would have nothing but a bad reputation and bankruptcy— you were one of the reasons they were even able to debut along with their senior artists and trainees.

so taking you out for the day, to experience this new city and live the idol life for just a day was their way of showing appreciation and despite it being shouto’s idea, he makes no efforts to actually apologise to you— in fact, he avoids you for the whole day. he separates from the rest of the group when you guys wonder through the art exhibits at the gagosian gallery while you goof off with the others, taking silly videos on the camera’s jirou had assigned them. you felt bad that she’d spend hours scrubbing you out of the footage to make sure you couldn’t be seen or spark any fan-theories on who that person was or were the boys dating? however it was more fun to cause chaos amongst the fanbase.

todoroki does the same when XHEROEZ gets a private session at the ice rink by the rockerfeller centre— shut down to the public only because of the weight of their fame and their dazzling smiles. kirishima’s shaky grip on the camera showcases the atrocious figure skating skills of his band mates, midoriya stumbles a little too much on the picks of his skates— stabilised by your arm while katsuki glides right across the ice as if he was born to. he could be a skater in his next life, hanta too but they both twirl a little too much and end up on their butts once they collide. kaminari chokes on his laughter and shouto missed out yet again.

in fact the only time you do bump into the dual haired idol is on your way out of the bathroom— a smile spread wide across your frost tinted cheeks because this is the most fun you’ve had in such a long time, not having to worry about the doubt on your mind...but then.

then seeing him, seeing shouto and his blank face, the lack of remorse or feeling in his cerulean and cloudy grey eyes brings it all back. how cold he acts towards you brings your walls back up and your happiness back down and even though this is his way of apologising, you don’t really feel that much better at all.

his words from the night before ringing in your head.

‘that god awful makeup artist of ours,’

'what good have they done for me?’

blinking, you don’t even realise how much time has passed and how long you’ve been focused on todoroki’s words for— frowning at yourself for focusing on him on the day that’s supposed to be about you. yourself, XHEROEZ and their security huddle around each other, in line for your first taste of american street food from a polite vendor— you let sero place an order for you, while you keep your gaze set on the landscape of New York City. the snow here is different to that of japan, it’s heavy and thick. rough as it falls and bites at your nose and cheek, coating cars and sky scrapers alike and drowning it in freezing white blankets. looking up to the sky you see nothing but familiar shades of deep grey for miles, it’s almost claustrophobic how much snow there is— like you’re trapped in a snow globe being turned upside down, shaking you from your comfort and throwing your emotions about the place.

beyond the puffs of your warm breath into the sub-freezing air, you notice a group of girls peering curiously at your group as they debate on the toppings to go on their hot dogs from the vendor. you smile, jutting your elbow into the puffy torso of midoriya ( layered up in some designer jacket you have no doubt bakugou told him to wear ). “you’ve got fans deku,” you say wistfully.

“hm? oh—oh!” the poor green haired bab almost drops his heated treat when he whips over to look at you.

“you should go say hi, it would make their day,” shrugging as you suggest it, deku looks down to you with a small frown, sauce on his freckled upper lip. “what?”

curls bounce as he shakes his head, littered with snowflake crystals. “n-nothing! it’s just that...if i go say hi, the others will want to as well, and then you’ll be left alone. with todoroki no doubt...he’s not one for these kinds things…”

ah. there it is.

“go say hi izuku, i can manage grumpy vocalist number two for a while.” you assure him, but it doesn’t seem to work and by now his band mates have noticed the shy group of fans a little further down the sidewalk.

“h-he’s not that bad yanno, not as bad as you think,” deku nudges the arm of your jacket just as todoroki approaches you both— leaving you alone with him and the snow to go make his fans’ day, their Christmas no doubt.

then there’s silence, an odd sense of New York City quiet— accompanied by people barking down the phone to colleagues and the honk of city traffic, a soundtrack to the city you reside in for a few days. one that’ll soon be filled with the cheers of XHEROEZ lovers across the state, maybe even the country and quite possibly the world. it’s just you and todoroki now, standing together awkwardly, listening to the world around you as you watch his friends interact with the people who appreciate them the most.

kirishima takes pictures with a few of the girls, kaminari doing his best to thank them while izuku insists they be in the little vlog. bakugou and sero manage a conversation in English, both having gone to international schools before becoming idols.

you take a chance and look up to shouto who stands beside you, snowflakes caught in the unfair length of his lashes, sitting high on his slightly scarred cheekbone that his fans still adore despite not knowing where it came from or how he got it. you won’t ask and it’s part of his charm, you guess. “you should be over there, with them.” comes your voice, hushed against the bustling city.

“i’m not one for fan service,”

you scoff, knowing just how todoroki acted on stage and on camera. not one for fan service your ass. “liar.” liar, pants on fire. you finish the rest in your head, knowing he’d tease you for being childish.

“you’re right,” he hums under his breath, turning to look at you with his hands in his pockets. “i lied because you wouldn’t be able to handle their reactions if i did go over there and give them the fan service they’re after. i know you hate it when i do it.”

how did he—? were you that obvious with your dislike for him?

“you must hate your fans then,”

“oh no, quite the contrary. i only save hatred for one special person,” todoroki jests, at least you think he’s joking when he pulls his hands out of his pockets to salute you before joining the rest of his idol group standing with the girls. for once, he hadn’t said something mean when opening his mouth to speak to you and for once you find a coy smile on your lips at this fact. maybe shouto todoroki truly was apologetic for what he had said about you yesterday, and perhaps if things kept going like this, you would be able to forgive him.

it was a step in the right direction.

with newfound, better spirits, you munch on your greasy american treats with the security guards while the boys do their thing, scrolling through your phone and not even noticing that one of the girls has approached you.

you only do so when she grips your wrist, eyes boring deep into your soul— nails almost digging into your flesh.

“uh—excuse me?”

“you should stay away from them, XHEROEZ.” her tone is adamant, clearly a crazed fan as she steps into your personal space just a little more. “they don’t need some chick like you getting in the way of their career and ruining their success.”

security steps forward to separate you from the girl but you hold a hand up behind you— thinking that you could maybe talk her down. “l-listen, i just work for them? i’m not,” her nails dig deeper into your flesh and you gasp. “i-i’m not going to ruin anything!”

“stay away from them, stay away from todoroki.” she threatens again, shaking your entire body just from her grip on your wrist and of course she’s one of his stupid little fans— if you coild even call her that. she grabs at you again but this time you flinch out of fear, worried for an impact that may never come. “you’ll get him into a scandal!” her mouth almost froths.

her hero, her idol— shouto todoroki pulls you away from her before that happens. “i think your behaviour could get me into an even bigger scandal than my makeup artist could.” he grits his teeth, getting his bodyguards to pull the girl away from you completely— hissing at them to do their damn jobs to protect you as well as them. she was sure to get blacklisted.

“t-todoroki! i’m your biggest fan! i was just taking my care of this for you—“ she exclaims, thinking her idol would be impressed but the girl’s face, one stricken with awe for the man she’d only ever seen on screen, drops as shouto turns against her, defending you with waves of heat running off of his body into the crisp air.

“you’re not a true fan if you think harassing my staff is the way to go. back off.” todoroki keeps his voice even and polite, dragging you away from the girl as he lets security deal with her. the idol looks at you again, his eyes flash with hostility again— at you, or the girl you have no idea why but it seems whatever fleeting truce you had gone with the wind.

your day out ends here, a chill in your bones at todoroki defending you, at a girl almost clawing your face off. not a word is uttered about it until you’re back at the hotel and hawks has the pr team back in Japan sweep the incident clean off of the Internet.

when you go to bed that night, you can’t get that look on shouto’s face out of your mind— trying to figure out if you should hate that he protected you or feel apologetic instead.

on the day of the show you remain a muddle of emotions— conflicted as to how you should feel about shouto todoroki.

he was an enigmatic spider with a complex web of emotions that you couldn’t seem to understand. did he hate you? did he respect you? the lines had blurred more and more over the course of this trip to the point where your brain throbbed just thinking about shouto todoroki— seeing him as more than just a personal projection of your failures. seeing him as a whole person versus the fraction that made you hate him.

could even say that you hated him now?

you shake the thought from your frazzle mind in order to finish setting up the rest of your kits, shades of foundation and eye shadows already spread across the vanity in the backstage area the staff at the jingle ball had prepared for you. the boys tumble out of rehearsals shortly after, high on the energy they feel from being on stage and performing— even if it was just for sound check. they practically glow under the white tinted artificial light up above and you know that their sheer joy will make your job very easy tonight.

XHEROEZ will be performing a six song set with a range of concepts, so you decide to go with something personal for each of the boys— drafting out the looks in your notebook prettily until you jump at the sound of a furious hawks’ voice.

“whaddya mean you don’t know where shouto todo-fuckin’-roki is?” the ends of the blonde’s words are clipped, the vein on his forehead pulsing with irritation— the tips of his ears flaring bright red and the CEO looks as if all of his feathers have been ruffled right down to the core. kirishima stands opposite him, face guilty and crimson eyes turned towards the floor while his band mates look on in shock. “anyone got any clue as t’where that brat might be?”

and of course, the man you feel so torn over is missing on one potentially the biggest days of his career— an instance that makes your stomach twist with, greed to perform and to have what he has bleed green into your guts in the shade of feverish jealousy. “i-i’m sorry boss,” eijirou close to whines, the ecstatic energy that had been building up in his body slowly trickling out. the room cools with the sudden dampening in the air and hawks pinches the bridge of his nose, waiting for the rapper to continue. “i woke him up just before we left! he said he was comin’ but i thought he was taking the other car today, so i didn’t push—!”

“‘course that kid sleeps in.” the boss’ shoulders drop with his sharp inhale of breath as his yellow gaze shoots to you and you curse when he utters your full name. “you’re up, can you grab todoroki from the hotel for me?”

“but why me?” you whine like a child at the thought of seeing him again. “why not someone else—?”

keigo sighs, patience running thin. with you, with everyone in the room and the selfishness of XHEROEZs’ vocalist. “you’re the only artist that has their station set up, we need all the managers and staff here to finish getting set up for the show that starts in four hours,” your boss is getting even more pissed off the more he reasons with you and you feel like the more he talks, the less choice you have.

in the end, you agree to go, with an hour to travel to the hotel and back— you manage to get up to todoroki’s hotel room, banging down on the door while his manager waits outside in a sleek black car. the drive had taken a little over half an hour, with a light stream of traffic settling through New York City due to the settling snow— so there wasn’t much time left to wake up the seemingly sleeping dual haired idol, and banging on the door wasn’t working out for you now. shoving your hand into your pocket, you pull out the keycard kirishima had given you— since the two were sharing a room and force your way in.

todoroki shouldn’t look like an angel while he’s asleep.

despite the mess of the room, in his place in his bed todoroki is illuminated by the bright and natural light shining through the curtain— his red and white locks are spread messily across his expensive pillows, cherry lips parted gently at he snores quietly into the room. he looks so pretty, so pretty you almost don’t even want to wake him up but he has a job to do, people counting on him for one of the biggest nights of the year. people are counting on you to get him there. in three short strides, you cross the room and reach the idol’s bed before attempting to shake him awake.

“todoroki, todoroki!” you hiss lowly, still quiet as if not to wake him when it’s essentially your major goal. shouto groans lightly, akin to a child trying to hide from their mom rousing them from their sleep. you try again and he turns away from you, only causing your irritation to spike. “shouto! wake the fuck up!”

he blinks, once, twice.

and then he sees you.

pretty face twisted into a scowl, hair out of place ever so slightly— brows furrowed and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is. “what?”

“w-what? wh-whaddya mean what?” you gasp, suddenly flustered as you realise how close you are to shouto, so close you can feel his breath on your skin and you topple backwards onto his bed— knees hitting the comforter glossed with his scent. peppermint candy-canes. “do you have any idea what time it is? how late you are? what were you even doing?”

“sleeping.” obviously.

todoroki’s lips quirk up into an amused smirk. you’re cute when you’re angry and bitter, even cuter when he’s sliding out of bed shirtless and you have no choice but to look at his toned dancer’s body— going from roaring at him like a pissed off wildcat to trembling like a little kitten. “sleeping? you’re due to perform at the Madison Square Garden in literally three hours and you were sleeping?” you squeak, chucking a shirt at him amidst your panic and throwing a bag together full of shoutou’s belongings he might need for after the show. “this is a career changing moment! life changing even! and you were about to sleep right through it—!”

“alright,” the idol cuts through your words as a messy mop of candy cane hair pops through his grey-blue cotton shirt— you note that it matches his eyes. roughly. “relax, i get it. i’m awake now, we won’t be late.”

something about the nerveless echo to todoroki’s voice is what tips you over the edge, setting off your fuse. “you know this is about more than just you right? there are fans counting on you, people waiting for you..” whirling around, the words are spat out through gritted teeth, accompanied by your narrowed eyes and an even deeper scowl. “oversleeping? that's just—it’s just irresponsible!”

todoroki doesn’t like that, how you suddenly switch on him— attacking him just millimetres from where his heart is, where his fans and career lie. “you’re calling me irresponsible? after you almost got yourself attacked by fans the other day?” he snarls back, making you freeze. making you gasp.

your movements pause as you throw open his hotel curtains, expanding the slit of white light that leaks into the room—he had protected you and now he was blaming you? the room is flooded with blaring white from the heavy layers of snow outside, blanketing the city in shades of crisp eggshell, dotting car tops and skyscrapers and sidewalks. the whole city is a city of snow. you can feel the chill draft seeping through the seal of the windows, stinging your fingertips and your cheeks until you have to be yanked away from the cold before it seeps into your bones.

“it’s cold,” todoroki growls into the shell of your ear, arms wrapped around your middle as he pulls you away. “you should be careful.” there’s a beat of silence where you’re both entranced by the snow falling from up above, shouto slowly letting you go and pulling his warmth away from you with it. “you’re an idiot,”

he says softly as your phone buzzes with a text message from shouto’s manager outside, there’s a light blizzard coming, stay indoors. it says.

so you don’t bother to move.

———

fifteen minutes later and shouto wanders out of the shower in an even more sour mood than before, sweats hanging low on his taut waist as water droplets cascade down his milky skin and drip from his two toned hair, illuminated by the white sky outside.

the entire duration of his shower, you’d spent sitting on his bed with your gaze fixated on the snowy view— trying to come up with alternative methods to get back to the venue with the time you have left, which is just under three hours at this point. you’d promised hawks you’d have todoroki back within one. while shouto moves about the room, presumably getting dressed, your phone pings with a message from katsuki— no doubt bored while he gets his hair done for the show.

blonde brat - 7:52PM: you got that half n half asshole yet?

you - 7:55PM: peppermint gremlin secured!!

blonde brat - 7:57PM: thank fuck. get back here.

tucking away your phone with a heavy sigh, you turn back to todoroki who’s flicking through his own device— perhaps checking his Twitter account or the weather as well. “i’ve been trying to figure out a way for us to get to MSG through the weather, i think if we—“

“i don’t care. just get us there.” he snaps in response, face falling the more he scrolls through his phone— he looks to you then, your brow raised and unimpressed and rolls his eyes. “gonna scold her for being irresponsible and inconsiderate too? my shower was cold, don’t expect me to be all fine and dandy.”

“you can just take a warm shower, when we get to the venue of course. don’t be a sourpuss,” you chuckle and try not to look while todoroki puts his phone down to tug on a thicker sweater, his abs rippling as he works. “we’re gonna bundle up extra warm and take an uber down there, if we leave while the snow is light we could probably make it—“

todoroki sucks his teeth, looking at you as if you were stupid. “have you seen the weather reports? i’m not going out in that. it’ll get worse.”

“that’s why we should leave now, while the snow is light and so you don’t have to disappoint your thousands of adoring fans,” you counter, rendering the idol temporarily silent as he rolls his eyes at you and finishes off getting ready. however, you end up being the disappointed one when you realise there aren’t any ubers or bolts available in your area. “you know what? we might have to walk it,” you say quietly as you make your way over to the door, pushing down on the handle and frowning when the door won’t budge. “what the hell?”

now fully dressed, the dual haired idol joins you at the door, still in a sour mood as he gives the door a push as well— grunting when it doesn’t open. “we’re not doing that— push harder.”

“i am!” you whine. “we need to leave if we're going to get there on time.”

“no you’re not, push again.”

you’re both fighting the door, trying to get out of the hotel room— banging on it with your shoulders and using all of your body weight to get through until the complimentary phone starts to ring shrilly from across the room. todoroki moves to answer, leaving you to struggle with the handle a little more.

‘dear guest, due to the unfortunate bad weather— our electronic keycard systems controlled by online software are currently down. we advise you to remain calm in your rooms while we manually unlock these doors.’

well fuck.

with the systems down, there’s effectively no way for you and todoroki to escape the hotel room— trapped together in an enclosed space with your impatience and frustrations rising.

it doesn’t help that the power completely goes out as well.

———

without power, the pair of you set up some of the scented candles hotel staff are passing under the doors to keep everyone warm— since it’s only a matter of time before the heating systems go down too. todoroki ignores you for the most part, giving you a cold shoulder chillier than the snow storm building up outside, so you use the peace in the room to send out texts to hawks and the other staff members, letting them know that you won’t be able to make it back in time for the show— your battery dies halfway through responding to bakugou.

“this is all your fault,” you say, nose tipped up like a snooty child and todoroki finally pays you some attention, expression confused as you speak to him. “if you hadn’t been so selfish, followed your schedule like everybody else! we wouldn’t have been in this mess. if we had just left when the snow was light like i said we should, we would have been there by now!”

shouto huffs, setting his phone down calmly while his face flashes with the flames of anger. “it wouldn’t have mattered what time we left, with this snow we wouldn’t even have a show! and i’m allowed to be selfish— to want to rest when i’m overworked. i needed the rest, so just can it, okay?”

you don’t understand, his argument is weak. today, this show, it isn’t just about him— there’s no room to be selfish like this in a team full of other people reaching for the stars— launching themselves into space to touch their dreams. it makes you sick to your stomach, the way he thinks— like everything is all about him. “your fans needed you!” you all but scream, voice tearing through the silence in the room— the volume and angry colour to your voice surprising you both. “god just...just give me your charger so i can get my phone back and call someone to fix this within the next two hours.”

“i don’t have it.” he blinks.

and you blink back. “what do you mean you don’t have it?”

“kirishima took it with him.” todoroki says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “where’s yours?”

“at the venue. the one we’re supposed to be at right now, idiot!”

“well then who’s the idiot now?”

you think that this is your last straw, throwing your phone onto todoroki’s bed with so much force that it bounces back up like the rage you feel brewing deep inside you to hit the idol all at once. “you know what? you know what todoroki?” you’re sure that in this moment you must look a picture of insanity to him, eyes twitching, face scrunched up in anger but you don’t care— throwing out all your inner thoughts and insecurities onto him. “you’re the laziest, most insensitive, piece of shit asshole i’ve ever met. people out there are counting on you, want to see you, want to be you and here you are lazing about because you must not give a shit about anyone aside from yourself.”

“god,” you continue, throwing your hand up in the air— irked by his silence. “you really don’t care, do you? you’re probably not even in it for your fans, but for the money and the fame and not what it means to be a true idol—!”

“are you done now?” the dual haired male cuts through your speech like ice through a water surface— his eyes frozen over, showing no emotion even if your words might have gotten to him. “you like to act like you’re above me…” he says your name so icily that you flinch as if a shard as nicked your skin. “but really you’re just as bad as me, picking on the idol you work for by projecting your insecurities onto him as if i’m some kind of rag doll. i’m everything you’ve ever wanted to be, everything you’ve dreamed of and failed at achieving. it’s pathetic, embarrassing. you failed at becoming an idol, then becoming a choreographer and now. even a makeup artist.”

“you only care because someone else is doing the shit that you can’t. i’m the pathetic one? try being you.”

each one of his words is like a sting to your beating heart, the venom behind them seeping into your veins slowly and poisoning you from the inside out. you refuse to cry in front of him, show him that everything he’s said about you is true and so you swallow the lump in your throat— biting down on your tongue, pushing it all down. it’s not until after everything is said and done that todoroki realises the harshness of what he’s said— reaching out to grab you and apologise as you turn away from him. hurt.

backing into a corner and away from him, the world goes quiet around todoroki as he tries to find the words he needs to make your pain go away. “save it, shouto. use your energy to hope that someone gets us outta here. so you don’t fail like i did.”

neither of you speak after that.

teeth chattering, you desperately try to sink into the warmth of todoroki’s old promotional clothes— the heating having gone out about half an hour ago. he’d looked it up on the internet just before his phone died, how to keep warm without power and most articles suggested layering up and spreading out blankets along the floors. the clothes, despite consisting of itchy fabrics and random stylised holes, carry a comforting scent despite belonging to a man with a frozen heart, you’re at least grateful for that.

“there’s uh, a little warm spot on this side of the room if you’re still cold,” todoroki calls from his own little sanctuary of warmth, as he puts down his guitar— where you’d practically banished him to.

you scowl, bunching up his many jackets and jumpers around you. “could’a mentioned that earlier.” asshole.

you sidle over to his side of the room, hesitantly letting todoroki guide you to a warm spot in the floor where hot water must’ve been running and sigh in relief— you don’t know how long it’ll last but you’ll take what you can get.

“we should probably huddle together—“

“no.” you cut him off.

“—for warmth.” he lifts his arm to invite you underneath the blankets he has and it’s so so tempting, to huddle up beneath them with him and tuck yourself into the comforting scent of todoroki’s chest but you’re scared it won’t be so warm and he won’t be so comforting if you do. “it said so on the thread we read—“

“fine.”

you curl into his firm side, blanket trapping you in against the idol but you don’t dare to move— face stiff against the muscle of his chest while you try to gather every string of warmth from him. it feels weird to be hugging shouto todoroki like this. the red and white haired idol reaches for his guitar again, slowly as if not to disturb you and hesitantly strums the same chords from earlier— as if he was figuring out a melody.

“i didn’t know that you played,” you whisper against the melody, breaking the pin drop silence in the sub zero air. todoroki scribbles something down on a napkin and you gasp. “or wrote.”

he looks down at you, eyes shimmering in the flickering candle light and there’s somewhat of a smile on his face. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me,”

“oh yeah?” you push, sitting up. “like what?”

todoroki pretends to think, brushing his dual tone hair out of his winter eyes before smirking at you mischievously. “i help to write some of the songs bakugou produces, bleaching my hair is never a probably because it’s naturally white, i like cold soba but hate when kirishima cooks it because it’s too bland,” he starts listing those, watching you carefully for a reaction— remembering the facts that make your face twist. “i like living at the dorms because i’m not close with my parents and hardly see my siblings, i get travel sick. my blood type is O, my favourite season is winter, my favourite animal is a snow leopard and i like the colour blue.” he finishes gently, fingers resting against his guitar strings.

“the last ones, you can read those on fan websites, everyone knows those,” you try to act nonchalant as if this isn’t the most todoroki has opened up to you without freezing you out after and he chuckles at your bluntness— tapping his nose.

“but aren’t they more sincere when they’re coming from me?” shouto asks, you can’t tell if he’s being genuine or not— you can’t decipher him at all, it’s like walking through a snowstorm with no clue which way you’re going. his mouth opens and closes as he strums idly, debating on the right words to say without creating a catalyst between you again. “i wanted to apologise,” he begins in a low voice, not looking at you, winter eyes locked away. “for what i said to you earlier, it was harsh and uncalled for. especially with what hawks told me. i know saying sorry doesn’t make it right but i truly mean it.”

your icy heart shakes in your chest, rattling against your ribcage— todoroki, apologising. it melts the outer shell of your heart, warms you up just a touch and you feel the words pouring out of your mouth before you can stop them. “i’m sorry too. you were a little harsh, but right about most things. i’ve failed at most things more than i succeeded and being stuck in one place made me take it out on you,” you take a deep breath and squeeze his arm. “and for that i’m sorry, for putting my disappointments onto you.”

“don’t be disappointed in yourself, you’re not an idol but you’re still in the industry— that in itself is hard enough,” todoroki whispers, squeezing you back in a weird expression of forgiveness.

a melody fills the air, tangled with his perfect soft voice as it dances perfectly with the chords from his guitar— your body sinks into his, relaxing with every sweet note escaping from todoroki’s perfect lips, taking you away from the raging storm outside, bringing you to somewhere warmer, safer.

“what’s your song about?”

“my fans,” todoroki says instantly, continuing to strum his fingers against the strings on his guitar. “my thankfulness towards them. i know that i lack sometimes, that i seem lazy and cold but i do love them. i didn’t want to be an idol, i joined hawks’ company to be a singer and ended up a part of a team.” the song climaxes as your gazes lock, not like any times before where they were full of animosity. this time, they’re tender, gentle. “i can’t let them down, not when they’ve helped me grow so much.”

you sit up, facing the opposite of todoroki as you struggle with your words— realising he’s completely different to the man you hated in your head. “i misjudged you, you’re so good to your fans and team. i’m sure that they love you.”

he only shakes his head fondly, still continuing to fill the space between you with his gentle spoken and meaningful lyrics— pulling you into him like an invisible force of gravity, grabbing you by the shoulders in a warm embrace against the cold frosty weather outside. your skin tingles, hot to the touch as your eyes mirror todoroki’s hooded ones, drawn in by each of his angelic notes while he shows off his vocalist skills. he serenades you, wraps you in all that is him, truly him and before you know it— you’re blindly leaning into the calm storm of shouto todoroki, lips falling against his as the strumming slows until it stops, guitar cast to side as you kiss for the first time.

it’s barely there at first, all most non-existent as your lips glide along todoroki’s— they’re softer than you anticipated, glossed and balmy as they move with your own in delicate lip lock. he’s heated, warmer too as his hands let go of the guitar to cup the curve of your face, tilt it upwards so he can reach deeper into your soul and pour his passion you thought he didn’t have into you. on the contrary, his hands are rough and not perfect like you’d thought, not like the rest of him— his fingertips digging into your cheeks are rough from playing guitar, calloused from what seems like years of practice as he drags you by the waist into his lap to kiss you more, tease you more.

your noses are pressed together, bumping every time you separate for air— chests getting ragged the more your lips touch and tongues slide over their chapped surfaces, your body flames with something new. how does he make you feel like this? your burning hatred simmering on its stove into something sweeter, loving and lustful as todoroki’s tongue is heavy in your mouth but in the nice kind of way, drooling against your own tongue as the kiss becomes more passionate, becomes hungrier like there’s a ravenousness you both have for one another, to be closer and show your true feelings.

“w-what...what are we doing?” you sigh breathlessly, body blossoming and unwinding under shouto’s touch that sears straight through the layers of his clothes that you wear— fingerprints burning your skin at your waist. a blush fans across todoroki’s nose and cheeks, pink and a few shades lighter than his hair as he licks into your mouth with wanton, tugging you this way and that as if your bodies could get any closer. they can’t, it’s impossible but he doesn’t care— angling your head upwards so he can lick at the honey strands of saliva hanging from the roof of your mouth to sedate himself, your sweetness trickling down against his tongue— making his eyes cross and his whole body shake just from kissing you. from kissing you. “s-shouto! what are we—?”

you gasp as he nips your bottom lip, slowly pulling the flesh away from you before pushing you onto your back— following you down and swallowing your nerves whole when your lips meet again, sticky from the spit you’ve swapped, glazed in your honey. “apologising,” he says finally, his own breathing ragged because of you. you have this effect on him. “let me show you how well and truly sorry i am.”

your mind is as frenzied as the snow drowning the city outside when your back hits the blanketed floor, the slopes of todoroki’s face above you are illuminated by warm candle light— burning your insides, leaving you content, leaving you weightless while he toys with the hem of your clothes— stormy eyes searching your own face for consent. you can’t even speak, thoughts racing through your mind, questioning everything. is this truly how he felt about you while you forced your resentment towards him? hated him while he searched for a hand through the blizzard? shouto waits for your word although your body says yes, slipping his hands under your clothes to rub at the flesh of your tummy and sending tingles across the skin.

“okay,” you nod and shouto smiles, so beautifully like a beacon of light amidst the dark stormy sky— you nod again and he tucks his red and white mop of hair against your neck, lips ascending on it thoughtfully, without leaving marks since both of you could get into trouble with the company— but they’re wet on your skin, shivers jumping down the junctions of your spine while shouto’s tongue, hot on your icy flesh licks from your collar bones up to your jugular and ends the shimmering trail of where your neck meets your chin.

how can you imagine what the cold outside feels like when the idol’s large body presses feverishly into yours? you feel his burning desire for him even through the layers of clothes you have on, you let his large palms knead your flesh and push at the expensive fabrics just to feel you more and more. goosebumps rising across your skin at the exposure to cold are are quickly erased by todoroki’s warmth and wherever he touches you, moving down to press kisses along your stomach the more he reveals to the world, helping you sit up to tug off the countless shirts and hoodies you wear once they reach your neck. your chest is his next target, wet tongue dragged from the cliffs of your collar bones to your nipples at attention, calling to him. “you’re so pretty,” he rasps, head laying on your chest, hair tickling your now naked skin and fingertips running up and down your sides. “you’ve always been so pretty, even when you were mad at me, even more so when you were smiling.”

you shudder under his breath that cascades over your skin. “i wonder how you’ll look,” todoroki says, lids growing heavy just by watching you and waiting for your reactions. “when i touch you the way you want, when you give into your deepest desires,” his fingers crawl across your chest to pinch at your nipples, smiling against you when you gasp and choke on air. “when you give in to me,” there’s a husky echo to his voice that you feel vibrate and shoot to your core— distracting you only momentarily from the feeling of his lips encapsulating your right nipple, rolling the hardened bud between rows of perfect teeth. he grunts, large hands spanning out against your stomach when you arch your back into his mouth, pushing you back down onto your makeshift sea of blankets. your face twists in a mix of pleasure and agony— forcing you to lay in place and take what he gives. “patience love, let me take my time with you. we have a lot to make up for,”

“shou—“ you grumble, body flashing with heat that wards off the snowy cold, face even hotter when the dual haired idol pulls away from your saliva slicked chest with wet lips and a haze in your eyes. “please shouto, please—!” you don’t even know what it is that you’re asking for, perhaps begging for his forgiveness so that he’ll touch you, give you more than just his tongue against your ribcage when you arch your back or his lips on your sternum. you need his touch where the fire is brightest, where your need for him is strongest. “shouto!”

“my name on your lips,” he coos quietly, mouth rolling over your unattended nipple while his hand toys with the abandoned one. “do you have any idea what it does to me?” todoroki lays between your parted thighs, pushing his obvious erection right up against the meat of them, causing a whimper to tear in your throat. you’re hit with the realisation that you never really say his name, only a combination of foul words and nicknames when you address him. “i wonder what you’ll sound like when i tend to you between these thighs, make you feel good down there.”

your entire body jolts at his words, thighs locking at the base of his spine, trapping his body against you and todoroki smirks with red cheeks and misted eyes— liking the effect he has on you. “i-if you get to touch me down there, t-then i get to do the same for you,” you’re adamant in what you say, hips lifting to bump against his swelling cock until he falters above you. “right?”

“how could i say no to that?” todoroki grins and you miss his crackle of heat against your body as he pulls back to yank off his shirt, hair flying out of place and milky skin painted with the flavours of a rose once his head pops through. both of your pants go next, todoroki taking his time as he pulls them off of you leg by leg, kissing up from your ankles to your thighs before allowing you to throw his off too. your underwear goes on the same breath.

and then there you are, naked and chest to chest— looking at each other dazed with your ice hearts banging against the ribs in your chest like the shutters against the windows because of the wind. yet the world seems quiet, completely stilled as your hands hesitantly cup the idol’s face to bush hair out of his blue-grey eyes, your frozen heart melting when he leans into your palm.

“why so quiet?” he asks you, voice barely above a whisper. “nervous?”

“no.” you say, thumb brushing his cheek.

his eyes flutter shut. “then what?”

“you’re just so beautiful…”

lips are on yours before you can take a second breath, he’s overwhelming your senses yet again— filling your void like the city is filled with snow while his hands dart between your trembling soft thighs, pinching them and teasing them apart until he’s pressed up right against your sex, already so wet and sticky for him. he growls lowly, rough padded finger swirling around your entrance, threading your slick between them and he laughs lightly at just how turned on you are—before he’s even touched you.

“s-shouto!”

“shhh, pretty one. wait a second, promise I’ll make you feel good, okay?” he says pushing his lips onto a mocking pout as your eyes brim with liquid silver— tears gathering in your lashes while your hands search for something to ground yourself, latching onto shouto’s bicep as he eases a single finger past your entrance, curling against your slippery inner walls.

crescent moons break against snowy skin, leaving red tracks in place while pushing another finger alongside the first, marvelling at the hot, manuka honey mess growing between your plush thighs— your hole is resisting around shouto’s thick digits, the blunt tips pressing against the sensitive spots along your insides causing squelching sounds to echo along the hotel walls, as marvellous and sinful as any one of todoroki’s songs. the way you yowl so desperately the more he explores you, the more eager todoroki is to please you— realising with the growing weight of lust lodging itself into his chest, that he would do anything for you. he would clear skies of their thunder clouds, brush away a hurricane for you until you could breach the clouds and see the stars— the ones you could just barely touch with your own two hands.

“there you go sweetheart, take it, just like that,” your cute little sex sucks his fingers in so well, dripping thick waves of your sweet nectar down them, gathering in his palm before he thrusts them, sendin you travelling up the blankets gathered on the floor— your eyes rolling and thighs squeezing around his wrist, locking him between them so he can keep bringing you this brand new, blinding pleasure that makes your tummy bubble.

you’re like a snowflake, melting underneath todoroki as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slick, tight little hole— your chest rises and falls with the flick of a candle, ropes of saliva caught on the roof of your mouth, tongue bursting over the seams of your lips as he prepares you for his taking, like a ripening fruit so fresh and juicy all for him. you’re so cute beneath him, a sweet little mess for him to clean up and ruin all over again— he can’t help it, barely fighting the urge to kiss you once again and swallow the airy moans that slip out of you with every twist of his fingers and brush of their tips against your pleasure spots. if you are the snow then todoroki is the blistering sun, sending his sunlight through your bloodstream, hot with the pure ecstasy— bringing you closer and closer, building it high in slow stacks until your limbs are trembling underneath the weight.

in the mess of limbs and locked lips you manage to slip your hand between your heated bodies, grinning against shouto’s mouth when his cock jumps at your simple touch— gasping his cock you get a feel for the weight of him, he makes up for length where he lacks thickness, clean as they come and incredibly hard while his tip drools into your soft palm, milky white staining your skin as you begin to jerk todoroki off. he hisses into the wet cavern of your mouth, chest bristling contently against your own, he likes what you do to him, how the softness of your hand sneds sparks of dopamine across his brain—causes his hips to jut forward ever so softly, smearing more of his pre against your skin. the pair of you shudder, playing with one another to the melody of your sweet whines and whimpers and your eyes drop to where you’re joined, hands glistening with evidence of your arousals and drool pools on the palette of your tongue just admiring todoroki’s crystal cut body and pink flushed face, his lips as he pulls away from you— kiss swollen and cherry licorice red.

he’s the one melting now, weak and like putty in your hands as you first his cock, his tip a shade of red as bright as his hair…but even still, todoroki doesn’t let up— continuing to pump his fingers against your velvet lined walls and bearing them down on the pleasure spot that increases the shake in your doughy thighs. todoroki’s cock leaks so much your hands slip and slide over him, creating the perfect fleshlight for him to fuck the more his hips buck forward into your closed hand. “f-fuck, sweetheart,” his breath stutters, caught in the ridges of his throat when you begin to thumb at his tip, movement guided by the hick globs of precum that bead there. you don't’ dare to stop pleasuring the idol, feeling pride swell in your chest to see a man of his caliber fall down a few pegs, the way he feels att the mercy of your talented hands.

“you like that shou?” you inquire, panting between your slurred words as wet sounds cut through the blizzard, your bodies grinding against one another— your fingers playing with one another and you’re sure the mess of sheets and blankets and clothes below are stained with the mixes of your arousals and teasers of your release and your hand slips further down between you both to grip at shouto’s balls, heavy with a load of cum and all for you. he flicks his wrist, harder, faster in return as you mutually bring each other one step closer to release—barely clinging onto the edge of your peaks.

cheeks practically glowing a shade of rose in the dark, todoroki drops his head to your neck— the strokes of his fingers against your pleasure spot becoming lazy but even more frequent, desperate to make you as close as he is. “‘m gonna cum f’you,” todoroki admits through the growls that reverberate between you both, lewdly fucking your fist as if itt was your tight sex. ”gonna fuckin’ cum, don’t stop okay? cum for me, cum with me,” he grows more and more demanding, but his body and voice tremble with neediness.

“cum shou, with me. please!” you beg, finding yourself in the exact same sate, practically falling apart on his fingers, the pleasure that had been building within you toppling over at the same time as todoroki falls off the edge into an earth shattering high. neither of you stop, let up as your releases splash out and paint one another, his cock twitching in your grip and staining your knuckles white with his hot seed. he mewls into your neck and you cry into the frosty air, orgasm trickling down shouto’s thick fingers and pooling between your fleshy asscheeks, leaving you both struggling and gasping for air.

it doesn't take long for todoroki to be at your neck again, gently nipping at the flesh while you come to. “‘m going to give you my cock now, okay sweetheart? you’ll be able to take it, right?” he questions you, peppering smooches along your neckline, wet and sloppy as he goes.

“uhuh,i-i’m ready,” you slur over the saliva in your mouth, mind pleasantly fuzzy as todoroki manhandles you into the position to take his cock just the way he wants, keeping you on your back, he uses a knee to spread you open again by the meat of your thighs— taking ahold of his dripping dick before he slaps it against your soaked hole a few times, moaning deep at the salacious, sticky sounds your sexes make as he grinds against you, already easing his bulbous tip past your entrance. he can’t help but chuckle huskily att the way your hole sucks him in so good, clenching around him as if to trap him inside— he fucks you with just the tip at first, watching you writhe and raise your hips as if asking for more. “c’mon, don’t tease!”

“patience baby, just like i told you before,” todoroki hums in amusement, caging you in as he thrusts all the way in, reaching the hilt and bottoming out inside of you. while the idol enjoys finally having his cock wrapped up in the warmth of your sloppy and sensitive insides— he finds the strength within himself to pull out of your adorably selfish hole to start a a deep and sensual pace, dragging his seed bleeding ip along your insides, setting a steady stream of thrusts that hit so deep you feel him in your guts. the force of his hips rolling into yours pulls pathetic bleats from between your wet and kiss swollen lips, your hands finding purchase on the hairs that sit on the nape of todoroki’s neck while you let him overrule your body, taking it over— mind, body and soul.

how could you have ever hated him so passionately, when he looks down at you like you’re a safe space in a storm? looks down at you with cool toned eyes that speak volumes of admiration. there are so many feelings in todoroki’s eyes and you uncover more with each rut of his hips into yours, creamy and lewd, the length of him leaving you completely filled as he moulds your insides into his shape. “y-you’re so good,” you tell him earnestly, struggling to catch your breath over his intensity and weakly lift your hips to match his rhythm, clenching around every ridge and vein of todoroki’s lengthy girth as it pushes and pulls at your spongy insides and bumps against pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had. “f-fuck you feel s’good, shouto!”

smiling down at you dopily, heart vulnerable and on his sleeve, shouto grips at your hips— working himself deeper inside your fluttering hole and stretching you out all for him. he wants you to forget any pain he’s caused you, erase anything horrible he’d ever said to you that replays in your mind because in reality, shouto todoroki adores you and every ounce of drive that he has and your praise makes him want to feel worthy of it, makes him want you to see the stars through the murky grey skies. there’s this same sense of adoration written behind his touches as todoroki guides your hips to move along with his, both of you moving in sync, bodies harmonising like a beautifully written song while he splits you open on his cock, having you ooze nectar down his shaft as it drips down to his heavy balls and ruins he clothes and sheets and blankets beneath you both. he fucks you hard just to show you how he really feels, what he didn’t get to say while you were both too busy hating each other to see the truth. you want his good, his bad, his scared and his safe all at once, and shouto is determined to give it to you, balls deep inside your creamy sex.

“sweetheart, y-you’re such a pretty little thing for me, making such a mess on my cock and a mess of my heart. aren’t i a lucky man?” the idol coos to you endearingly, hiking your leg over his broad set shoulders so he can press his body hotly against yours until you’re chest to chest and there’s barely any space between you, compressing the blizzard of emotions beginning to rage between you both. greed and desire spread like frost on a window pane along your skin as it meets in rhythmic claps, balls hitting the curve of your fleshy ass. “to have you like this, god i’m so fucking lucky,” shouto’s voice is tight in his throat as he takes you over and over again, your fingers losing their grip in his split dyed hair and your core locking around his dick at his praise, offering the idol no escape from being inside you. liquid arousal, clear and and sweat rolls in waves down your thighs, sticking to his pelvis while you choke his girth and pull more precum from the slit on his tip.

it smears along your insides, making everything honeyed and gooey every time todoroki jackhammers against that spongy spot deep inside you. “i’m the lucky one..” you babble mindlessly, arousal heightening with the temperatures of your bodies as they work with one another to reach cloud nine— hot enough to melt an iceberg. “get to see your eyes, your darlin’ eyes as you fuck me so good,” you have no idea what you’resaying, high off of the ecstasy that exudes from your pores, all because of him.

embarrassed, flustered and with new found vigor, todoroki swoops down to capture your lips an iron hot kiss— tasting the sweat gathered on your cupids bow and searching the mess beneath you both for your hand that had once been lost in his hair. your fingers slot together perfectly, just like he does between your trembling and achy thighs, and todoroki gives your hand a squeeze— lovingly, softly. “shut up,” he mumbles against your bruised and cherry bitten li-ps, fighting a grin when your strawberry tongue rolls against his own, memorising the taste of his mouth. “let me make you feel good, let me apologise.” he wants to make you cum, see the life pulse in your eyes while he ruins you on his cock for all the wrongs he’s ever committed against you.

there’s a possible blizzard outside but shouto todoroki’s never felt safer than he has, a tangled mess with you— fucking you raw, making love to you and soiling your coreunttil your screams of his names echo into the hotel room. you’re so beautiful under the candle light, lips parted and lashes against your cheeks and if he could he would give up everything, even being an idol to see you like this again. so he pushes his creamy dick into you deeper, deeper, as far as it’ll go until your back arches off of the floor and you’re keening into his sun-like touch as if you’re craving his warmth. something akin to love, closer to fondness bleeds into the air, intertwined intricately with unadulterated emotion as todoroki grinds his cock into you, angling it into that special place inside of your sex that makes your brain ttingle with serotonin and dopamine and everything in between while your toes curl and your fingers clench.

incoherent praises are whispered into the bruises on your collarbones that you both know todoroki isn’t allowed to leave, but neither of you can find it in you to care— walking the fine line between sanity and losing your mind as the knots in your stomach begin to unwind and loosen themselves. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles, not knowing if it's for the deep blues and purples blossoming under your skin or if it’s for how he treated you in the past, slamming his cock into your tight hole over and over again as you gush and leak about the place. “‘m sorry, i-i’m—”

“hush,” you cup todoroki’s face, tears of lust clumped in your lashes again and he feels the snow storm wrapped around his heart calming, both of you so deep in your own cloud of vulnerability to notice the weather taming itself outside. “i-it’s okay, you’ve made it up t’me. l-let it…let it go now,” shouto can only nod weakly, fighting back the whine of relief bubbling up on his lips. that’s all he needs to hear before he’s chasing both of your releases, running through the storm of emotions for them as his tip nudges against your pleasure spot over and over, the pace of his hips becoming inconistent and skittish, moans rising in octave with every step you take closer to release.

“cum for me sweetheart, let go with me,” shouto whispers, squeezing your hand as your dam finally breaks and your release floods from your body. the world of white flashes behind your eyes, arousal coursing through your veins as you cry todoroki’s name with all your might, sobbing through your aftershocks as you succumb to the twitching and the pleasure— painting his tummy with your cum. todoroki follows suit, quickly pulling out of your spasming hole and collapsing against you, rutting his cock into the soft flesh of your tummy, curse words a plenty spilling from his hot mouth— licked into your neck by his tongue before hot stripes of his seed land on your sweaty skin one after the other, potent and milky and glueing you both together before exhaustion settles into your bones and his body gives out above yours completely— shouto managing to roll to the side before he squashes you.

your first instinct is to giggle, loud and carefree when both you come down— your fingers drawing little shapes and patterns into shouto’s freckled shoulder. “that was nice,” you say with a tiny smile, meeting his content eyes. “real nice. where’d you learn to do all that?”

“i’m an idol, sweetheart, not a nun. just because we have no dating policies doesn’t mean we can’t get around,” todoroki explains to you and plucks your hand from his shoulder, interlacing your fingers lazily. “but i’m sure hawks wouldn’t mind making an exception for his favourite employees.”

“oh stop! he’ll have to with the bruises you left on me!” you laugh again but let the peppermint haired idol pull away from you with a kiss so he can clean you up, heading to the bathroom in search of a warm cloth and soap safe for sensitive skin. he washes you up quickly but carefully, taking care of your tender spots and kissing each mark he’s made ( eventually letting you do the same ) before he’s got you wrapped up in his arms again— naked amongst the sheets you’d laid on the floor.

there’s a question on the tip of your tongue and one lodged in todoroki’s throat but neither of you have time to ask if for muffled voices echo on the other side of the door— the lights of the hotel room flickering back on at the wrong time.

“bakugou! calm down!”

“don’t tell him to calm down, midoriya, you’ll only make it worse!”

“like you’re any better denki!”

“can it, sero.”

“hey that’s not very nice you guys—“

“will all of you numbskulls shut the fuck up?” bakugou interjects the group’s bickering, tapping a keycard against todoroki’s hotel room door before he kicks it open without stopping to look at the scene laid out before him. “all of you dipshits are fuckin’ useless, ya hear? ‘n you can tell that to your shitty manager hawks too—“

kirishima notices first, face turning as red as his hair before the other boys follow his gaze and react in the same way. “uh...bakugou?”

“what? shitty hair?” the blonde snaps back, following kirishima’s finger that points to a very naked todoroki and a very very naked ( also bruised ) you. “holy fuck—“

todoroki’s cheeks redden as he throws a blanket over your head to protect your last shred of decency— glaring at the other members in his idol to turn their heads away out of respect, but it’s far too late for any of that now. “don’t you dare tell hawks.” he mumbles bashfully.

“i’ll make sure you get the ugly makeup concepts for an entire month!” you squeak.

katsuki’s face looks like an awful cross between throwing up and committing homicide but instead pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales deeply.

“put some fuckin’ clothes on, i didn’t get these idiots and i driven out here through the last of the snow to see your dick hangin’ our half ‘n half,” he growls, still grossed out. “there’s an hour left till showtime s’let’s get goin’! and charge your fuckin’ phones next time. ever heard of a portable charger?”

you take the scolding from bakugou and leap up to get dressed as soon as he and the other boys are gone, todoroki makes you a promise to talk about what you two are and what you mean to each other after the jingle ball performance but yourself and most of the fierce wings staff ( including hawks himself ) seem to have a pretty good idea already, since you turn up to the venue dressed in shouto’s closed— the red and white haired idol practically latched onto your side, a scary and unusual sight for all parties involved.

however everyone’s suspicions are completely confirmed when todoroki sneaks a good luck kiss from you, just before XHEROEZ head on stage to blow New York City away.

in the end, the snow manages to calm down enough for everyone to perform— the fans gathered inside madison square garden for the night of their lives. todoroki is rushed into hair and makeup, but his eyes don’t leave you the entire time— a new sense of pride and adoration for you running through his veins before the members of XHEROEZ stumble onto the stage and give the world their all.

and for the first time, you don’t feel an ounce of regret— you don’t feel weighted down by the burden you put on yourself, reminded that you are not a failure even if you didn’t quite make it to the top.

you made it here, you’re by his side— supporting those who reached your dream from the sidelines and you realise that’s enough.

todoroki dedicates the last song of the XHEROEZ set to someone special, someone with your name that he doesn’t expose to the crowd but you can tell it’s for you by the way his mop of red and white hair tilts back towards the stage and his cool blue eye drops into a lazy wink— making your heart race.

not all dreams come true and not all attempts to make them do so are failures. you decide you’ll help todoroki touch the stars and have a taste for the milky way — carrying out his dream together, hand in hand.

[vsa-pieldepapel]

I love your headcanon of suselle being ‘i love you but you’re not good for me’ kind of thing. To me, it really fits their personal dynamics

Mmmm I’ll use this ask to elaborate a bit more since it is a great segway, hope you dont mind anon, since you pretty much aced it I think

Discussion of abuse and family shit and general bad relationships below if not invested scroll away— this shit is super interesting to me but I know it’s not an e for everyone thing

There is a very interesting video on YouTube about how Noelle repeatedly displays signs of learned helplessness. From what I recall of it a part is attributed to rudys hospitalisation which, fair, but to me it stems from before. In my Dess and Asriel post I talk a bit about how I think the holidays exhibit the toxic parent-enabler parent-golden child-scapegoat child family dynamic, which is a relatively common one in dysfunctional families. I think Rudy enabled mama holiday off the very beginning, when he first flirted with her and she slapped him and he still went on to pursue a relationship and have children with her. Per rudy’s own admission mama holiday is “hard” on Noelle, enough his primary concern while in the hospital is that the two of them are alone at home— not a good sign, and speaks of him knowing this behaviour is repeated. This is not new

As for Susie, well. She eats chalk. She speaks of not having her own room. She drinks the milk alphys leaves in the alleyway. She repeatedly assumes people want her away or don’t want to be friends with her, like there is something unlovable about herself. She tells ralsei he must have gotten the wrong person when he says he thinks she’s the hero, and when Toriel tells her to call her family, she doesn’t. She can also spot Toriel is a good mother, and care about Kris upsetting her. She is more emotionally intelligent than expected of a teen— I’ve seen people speculate she is homeless, I’m not sure if I agree 100% but she is clearly neglected.

This is when it goes to shit, though. In a book called Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents (that changed my life by the way kek) a couple chapters describe the way neglected children respond- internalisers and externalisers are the primary two responses. Internalisers shoulder the weight of their neglect. They shift the blame onto themselves, and constantly strive for self improvement, introspect and self-flagellate. Externalisers shift the anger of neglect onto external factors and tend to seek sensory soothing (substances), lash out and be aggressive, and respond with anger at perceived injuries of the ego.

Noelle is an internaliser, Susie an externaliser. In addition to that, Noelle pretty much embodies the fawning response to trauma, where Susie displays many signs of the fight and flight responses. From another link that I have read a lot lately I share the following screenshots,

TLDR: Susie responds to perceived injury with aggression. We see this through chapter 1 repeatedly. Even before she knows whether or not Kris will snitch on her over the chalk, she’s ready to be aggressive to them. When Ralsei criticises her hostility, she changes sides. She responds to a perceived betrayal by Lancer not only with self deprecation but with rage. Even in chapter 2, her response to Monster Kid and Snowy speaking ill of Kris is to scare them.

The thing is SUSIE IS ALSO A TEENAGER. She can learn. Her behaviour can be modified if properly assessed, and it is obvious she is still at a stage where she doesn’t really want to be hostile— as soon as kris and Ralsei open up, she shows the considerate, dedicated, playful, protective friend she is. You see this in the text, “learning of the steep price to pay if things are achieved through intimidation.l” And this is what Ralsei teaches her when he stands up to her behaviour. He does it in a clumsy way at first, but it’s clearly seeping in later on, and his boundaries, the important ones, are fixed. He says no cakes until she stops being mean to him and indeed does NOT give cakes until susie verbally promises and keeps that behavioral change. That is something he can give her— both that education and the unconditional affection she wants desperately but is also afraid of losing. Susie needs someone assertive who will stop the fight response.

Then there’s Noelle:

Kind of fascinating noelle is a young reindeer… a fawn, if you will. I don’t know if this is intentional and I’m inclined to believe it’s not, but it definitely makes for some incredible symbolism kek. Notice how it says they attract abuse, neglect or aggression? We already have dialogue in Chapter 2 in which Noelle romanticizes Susie’s intimidation, wanting her to laugh at her and degrade her… and how could she not? She has fawned so much she has learned helplessness, not standing up to even Berdly, who isn’t intentionally hostile, and her own father normalises aggression by a romantic partner, makes it a funny incident in a happy marriage. And people tend to be aware of the pattern in which children of domestic abuse victims will grow up and attract similar partners.

The issue is… both of these are defense mechanisms. They don’t work for long term relationships. They’re responses to perceived danger that are generally unpleasant to adopt and the person does to guarantee themselves safety. This link speaks of a “downward spiral” that is pretty much how I see Suselle:

Susie is aggressive, Noelle romanticises it while clearly responding with what she herself describes as “the good kind of scary”, Susie sinks into her mechanism even further because, well, it is endorsed, so it works!, which makes noelle fawn even further… and so on.

Susie already perceives herself as a ruthless, violent machine. We see her project this onto others. She projects it thinking her classmates want her out. She projects it onto Lancer, asking him who would want to be her friend, anyway. She calls herself Violent Ax Susie and emphasises how enemies are made for beating up, putting this facade of pride on this aspect of herself. Ralsei’s gentleness shocks her because it disarms her intimidation response and she is so affection starved a single gesture of kindness from Noelle made her spare Noelle entirely…

And yet, right before the Ferris Wheel, Noelle tells her supposed dream figment of Susie that “she doesn’t care about anybody”, something Ralsei and Kris realised wasn’t true in a single day of actually talking to her and engaging with her. And Susie’s response? “I mean, TRUE.” She immediately sinks back into this defense mechanism that we KNOW is not true.

Oof!

Do I think they like each other, truly, at the beginning? Yeah, I totally do, especially because they’re prolly gonna be the canon ship. And there is, after all, this thing in most relationships called a honeymoon period.

They’re gonna have an amazing honeymoon period. But then reality begins to sink in. The spiral starts. Noelle’s own unsolved insecurities become people pleasing, fawning, and even jealousy since Susie is so casual with affection with friends and cares for them, we can see that even now at the beginning. Susie feels threatened, she fights. They fight. It goes to hell.

In my headcanon, it’s Susie who tells Noelle to break up, because I imagine Susie is emotionally parentified— which makes her aware of a bunch of emotional concepts that teens haven’t grasped too in depth generally. We see her have a broad moral understanding in canon, even if the way she words it can be a little clumsy. It is her who realises this is no fairytale, and splits the relationship, and it HURTS, but it’s ultimately what is best for them.

And that’s the suselle rant part 1 I guess

I actually have even more on this, specifically on what Noelle would benefit from in a partner, why I think kris has it, why I could see this happening even after the start of Noelle’s and Susie’s development… but this is huge and scary to post as is! So kek

[elliebean714]

HELLO MY FRIEND! I hope you are doing well and had some water today!

I was wondering if you could do a request for Josh x reader x matt where it's AFTER the prank Josh pulled and Matt and Reader forgave him and were understanding like "we kinda got what we deserved"

Please and thank you

HEYYYYY!!! So this very angsty, sorry but i had too. And I decided to put reader in a similar situation to Ashley during the prank on Hannah (because i dont feel like those who were blameless would forgive him) so that they didn't have a hand in the conception of the prank like Emily and Jess, nor did they actively take part like Matt and Mike, they simply hid and watched. Also, the outcome of the night is everyone survived and Handigo didn't kill/kidnap josh in the cave... Okay letsgoooooo

No More Pranks

Josh Washington x GN!Reader x Matt Taylor

Angst With Comfort

Post-Game

The lodge was lit ablaze as Sam fliped the light switch. Josh gripped S/O's hand, unsettled by the cacophony of upsetting sounds emitting from the burning building, and terrified they'd disappear and he'd be alone in the cave again, left with the guilt and shame for all he's done tonight. But they were here, gently rubbing their thumb along his tense hand. Assuring him he was safe, with them.

"Where's Matt?" Josh asked S/O hoarsely.

As much as they wanted to comfort him, they didn't want to give him false hope.

"I don't know. Emily said they went to the fire tower together and they got separated. When she showed up at the lodge it was just her." They responded honestly. Biting their lip gently waiting as he took in the information.

"I'm sorry." Josh whispers, his breathing slowly turning to sobs. S/O opened their arms to embrace him.

"I know Joshie, I know." They kissed the top of his head.

~~

The rescue team Emily and Matt called for helped everyone onto their helicopters and gave everyone who needed it first aid. After S/O and Josh had their injuries taken care of, the couple sat in silence, mourning their boyfriend. Suddenly a bright red light and a loud bang came from one of the mine exits. The helicopter began moving towards it

"Matt?" Emily yelled in confusion.

"What?" Josh asked her.

"I thought you said he died?" S/O stared in bewilderment.

"I gave him the flare gun at the fire tower before it fell and he abandoned me." Emily explained.

The helicopter came to a sudden hault and one of the rescuers dropped a ladder for the survivors to climb.

"Jess!" Mike called out when he saw her bloodied form, "Shit Jess, I thought you died." He pulls her into a loving embrace before removing his jacket and placing it around her sensitive shoulders.

"I thought I did too." She replies, her usually positive and upbeat voice turned hoarse and dry.

It hurt everyone to see her in such a state, Josh felt even more ashamed looking at the horrific state she was left in, imagining what pain and trauma she endured. The medic begins treating her wounds as the other survivor reaches the helicopter.

"Miss me?" Matt laughs as S/O's face lights up, he notices Josh staring back at him "Josh..." Matts face was washed with relief and confusion, "Chris and Ash said you died, you were sawn in half, I, I was so scared." Matt pulled him close and cried into his neck. "How? How are you alive?"

"Can I please explain it once we get off the mountain?" Josh mumbles.

"Yeah, sure, whenever you're ready babe, I just, I'm really glad you two are okay."

~~

One by one, the group was called to the interview room to tell their story, Josh was last, and took the longest. S/O and Matt sat in silence whilst they waited for Josh.

"What happened, S/O? Why did Chris and Ash tell me and Em he was dead?" Matt broke the uncomfortable silence with the question that he had stuck on his mind for hours.

"He wanted revenge." S/O sighed.

"Oh shit..." A wave of horrified realization dawned Matts tierd, bloodied face. "So, so, so he lied to us for a whole year, made everyone come back to the mountain where his sisters went missing, traumatised every single one of us...for revenge?" His voice was rising with anger.

"We killed his sisters Matt." S/O tried to reason, "I'm mad at him too but we need to understand why."

"He said he was taking his meds, he said he was getting better." Matts anger turned to helplessness as he hid his face in his hands.

"I know Matt, I'm so sorry I didn't realise he was lying earlier, if I had, maybe I could've stopped him." S/O whispered.

"No, no, he lied to us both. He hid it so well. For a fucking year." The anger returned, "It's not your fault, not my fault. It's his fault. Don't feel bad, or guilty, it was him."

S/O felt their face begin to soak with their tears, Matt was right, they couldn't have done anything to stop him, they weren't responsible, they just needed to hear it. Matt opened his arms and scooped them into his chest.

"I love you... you know that right?" He placed a gentle kiss to their scarred forehead.

"I know, I love you too Matt." They yawned.

After waiting what felt like hours the heavy metal door to the interview room slowly opened. Josh stepped out first, followed by the interviewer, who locked the door behind him. Josh walked towards his partners.

"Hi." He mumbled.

"What is wrong with you?" Matt yelled at him, fury bubbling over.

"I'm sorry..." Josh whimpered.

"Seriously? I know you're upset but torturing us? Almost killing us? You've got a lot of nerve." Matt continues shouting.

"Matt, calm down..." S/O sighed, too tierd to fight.

"Calm down? Calm down? Who's side are you on? He tortured you too!" Matt argued.

"I know. I know, but..." S/O hesitates, looking sorrowfully into Josh's eyes, "Oh Josh..." They buried their head into his neck, "I'm so sorry. We shouldn't have done that to her. It was horrible. And I hurt you too. That was the worst thing I've ever done. I know tonight was awful but," they laughed dryly "I guess I got what I deserved.".

"I-I forgive you honey. I shouldn't have brought you guys up there. I'm sorry." Josh pauses, looking at Matt. "You're right. I don't deserve your forgiveness. I can't imagine what hell you went through last night, I'm sorry for everything babe, but you don't have to accept it."

"Maybe eventually Josh, but not for a while. Sorry." Matt states simply before quickly exiting the police station, hiding his tears at Josh and S/O's betrayal. The couple stood in silence, watching him leave.

"I'm sorry, Matt." Josh whimpered, but his apology fell on deaf ears.

Pt 2

What I Write

Requests Always Open 🦋

~Elliebean714

♤♡◇♧☆♧◇♡♤♡◇♧☆♧◇♡♤♡◇♧☆

[ceiling-painted-white]

OOO ANOTHER ONE sal x reader fluff or hurt/comfort it doesn't matter just any type of fluff

i live for some fluff ahhh. i went with hurt/comfort on this one bc it seemed fun! also, i believe you were 🐱 anon in another ask? pls correct me if im wrong!  e3

important note before reading: i didn’t know what specifically to make the “hurt” be, so i went with two lists. one for a physical injury and one for a mental/emotional kind of hurting. i didn’t specify what the injury was in either one of the lists, so any situation works for this!!

CONTENT WARNING : unspecified physical and emotion pain/distress/injury. please read with caution :)

hurt/comfort with sal, both physical and mental pain -

gn!reader

physical injury 

✧if you were at school and you went to the nurse and were gonna go home during school,

✧ he would be the one to bring you your stuff :)

✧ idk thats just kinda sweet to me

✧ if you got hurt in front of him/with him around he would rush to get over to you

✧ like pls my boy would spRINT

✧ (she’s a runner she’s a trackstar)

✧ if it’s a smaller injury, he gets u an ice pack and brings you over to sit down 

✧ lisa (larry’s mom) definitely has a first aid kit so you bet he’s running downstairs to get it (i cant do this today im soft-)

✧ he bandages any cuts you have so gently (im gonna cry)

✧ YOU CANT TELL ME HE WOULDN’T WANNA LIKE 

✧ KISS THE BANDAGES AFTER HE PUTS THEM ON

✧ “KISS IT BETTER” TYPE BEAT 

✧ makes sure you take your medicine if you need to take any 

✧ gets things for you so you dont have to move too much 

✧ you can pry this entire hc from my cold dead hands fr 

✧ now lets talk about if the injury was severe enough for like hospitalization

✧ he’d visit you everyday 🥺 

✧ gets you balloons probably 

✧ and maybe flowers 

✧ updates you on what’s going on with your friends and school and such 

✧ cares for you sm istg 

mental illness/pain 

✧ he understands mental illnesses and trauma a lot

✧ he’s experienced a lot of his own unfortunately. 

✧ is always there if you need to talk or vent, he tries to give good advice

✧ or if you just wanna rant to him without him responding, just listening

✧ he’s good with that too :) 

✧ hugs 

✧ like a shit ton of hugs 

✧ he affirms and compliments the hell out of you 

✧ feel free to cry in front of him, he’s totally cool with it

✧ (might cry with u if you dont mind-)

✧ i feel like his love languages are between words of affirmation and physical touch

✧ if you’re not feeling up for it, he would definitely clean your room for you if you asked

✧ since sometimes having a really dirty room can damage your mental heath even more

✧ but you cant clean it bc of said damaged mental health

✧ he’d bring you food if you’re having trouble eating

✧ and would def remind you to drink water

✧ encourages your self care :)

✧ i feel like he would be the type to like

✧ wash his face with you as way to 

✧ encourage/support(??) you within that aspect of self care (pls i hope that makes sense)

✧ or something like that idk

✧ plans lil things to do (like dates almost) to get you out of bed more 

✧ you’ve helped him a lot, and he wants to return the favor :)

[hottest-mf-that-has-ever-existed]

i love chili (childe x zhongli) they are just so funny to me, silly men 💕

Zhongli, who hasnt learned how to live like a human yet (example: constantly forgets mora cuz he could just make it on spot, hes not dumb guys 😐 he just hasnt learned yet!!) so of course he isnt that familiar w human customs regarding relationships, especially romantic ones bc he has to learn other stuff first, and Childe, who is just unhinged bc of his trauma and from a different culture all together and also rich and ready to do everything for the people he holds close to his heart, just ugh!!!! love them

i can imagine them just walking together, zhongli noticing something he likes while childe buys that for him and then zhongli rambles about that thing while childe listens and shares his own thoughts.

then they go to buy food and zhongli trying to teach childe how to hold chopsticks but then childe sometimes not learning on purpose so zhongli feeds him ❤

most of liyue people are already used to the fatui scum and funeral consultant just being in their own bubble and they dont mind much cuz hey! childe pays really well so they get money, economy is thriving even

also they probably spar after zhongli's identity reveal and exchange fighting technique knowledge cuz im sure zhongli isnt that familiar w ALL fighting techniques so they just talk 💕

also zhongli unintentionally making childe flustered and then childe making zhongli feel nice when they are just hanging out :)

zhongli agreeing to spar bc it brings some life in childe's dead looking eyes but eventually when zhongli becomes family to childe, childe having a small spark in his eyes even without it because he loves family and i hc that family makes him feel alive too bc they are important to him end of story.

also zhongli was the god of war so i feel like he probably doesnt mind childe liking murder that much bc he only fights strong opponents and doesnt touch the common folk

their relationship isnt "normal" and i feel like they might have never put a label on it bc zhongli probably didnt think of it bc he doesnt know and childe probably not feeling the need to label it 🤨 also he'd probably wouldnt feel the need to put a label that zhongli wouldnt fully understand yknow?? like they would take it at their own pace cuz both would probably learn new stuff along the way

childe would probably eventually have to leave liyue so they'd write letters to each other :)

traveler just asking both of them to help on commissions together so they can meet and stop being sad and pathetic 🙄🙄

gets kinda sad after this aka time exists and childe is a mortal... i hope you get what i mean

foul legacy would probably eventually injure childe so bad that he wouldnt be able to continue to be a harbinger anymore so he and zhongli would start living together probably near childe's family

or childe would die in battle and it would be sad so i wont think about it

anyways

they would probably still spar n shit if childe wasnt too badly injured after that, yknow its just their thing and they find it enjoyable, also childe just doesnt want to lose his skill yknow

they would probably live a pretty peaceful life afterwards as they cant really do anything about it, not much excitement

they would still visit liyue few times a year of course!! it's zhongli's pride and joy after all and he needs to see it himself outside of others updates and childe just likes enabling him in stores so they always go back w a bunch of stuff

childe would probably grow old tho (well not too old, he probably wouldnt live past 60 considering how he's living 💀💀)

zhongli would try his best to take good care of him till his final hours :((

tho i feel like childe wouldnt like getting old tho especially w his mindset, his injury was probably bad enough on his mental state

so childe's final wish (if he wouldnt have mellowed out or just didnt care about zhongli's feelings in this matter that much) to zhongli would be a spar to death without holding back so he doesnt have to wait for his death. he would make it a contract so none of them could back out

but i feel like he'd most likely die surrounded by family and friends cuz yknow, im soft and he loves them very much and zhongli wouldnt agree to that wish (at least not easily cuz he'd have to live w it for the rest of the time and considering how good his memory is it would be painful even if it would make childe happy)

afterwards zhongli would probably move back to liyue (bc theres nothing holding him in the country of a different archon and they didnt have children so theres just no point) w all of the knowledge he earned and keeps childe in his heart or even a locket near his heart since they can take pics in genshin 🤨

but he would visit his grave every year at least once on his bday, if he could make time he'd go there as often as possible and just tell him things and bring flowers and other small things from liyue since childe probably liked it too

zhongli would live on forever w childe in his heart, maybe he'd find different lovers but i'd doubt it since childe was One Of A Kind yknow,,, idk i feel like zhongli wouldnt want to experience that pain again of losing a lover, at least a mortal one

fucj this made my cry why am i like this!!!!

tldr:

i feel like their relationship is far from conventional considering who they are but thats what i like about them

[followthebluebell]

Hi do you have any advice (even pre-existing if someone has already asked something similar) on getting a previously abused cat who has trauma from humans and will not let anyone pet of pick up to the vet? we attempted to get it inside its carrier but luring it in didnt work so when trying to risk picking it up, the cat reacted so badly that it resulted in one of us having to go to the hospital from how badly the cat clawed them ^^; we really dont want to abandon the cat & return them to the-

return them to the shelter we got them from since we are willing to out in the work to give this cat a happy home so any advice on how to go about getting the cat to the vet for a check up would be very much appreciated! 

I’m so sorry someone was injured and I hope they’re recovering.  Cats can inflict serious injury when they feel like it. 

So, you’ve got a few choices.  You can either:

-Arrange for home visits from the vet.  This may be the easiest option, if it’s available to you.  It tends to be more expensive since the vet has to include travel cost.

-Drug that cat up.  There is absolutely NO SHAME in using strong drugs to knock a cat out for medical care.  You can reach out to your vet and explain that this cat requires sedation and see if they’ll give you a gabanpentin prescription.  This stuff makes usually makes even the grumpiest of cats relax.  It can be a lifesaver.  I know more than a few cats who have to be drugged every car trip and vet visit. 

For the long-term, desensitizing the cat to the carrier may help.  I recommend leaving the carrier out all the time.  Don’t tuck it away in a closet or something.  That makes it seem new and scary every time it comes out again.  If it’s out all the time, it eventually becomes just another piece of furniture. 

Every day, feed the cat a little bit closer to the carrier.  If the cat stops eating, it’s ok to take a step back and feed a little further away.  Eventually, you’ll want to start feeding the cat inside the carrier.  It might take a lot of time to get to that point and that is ok.  It’s ok to take it very slow. 

You can even offer EXTRA special treats inside the carrier, like tuna.  Be sure to save these extra special treats for these special occasions so they seem all the more valuable to the cat.

Thank you for giving this kitty a chance <3

[pop-punklouis]

speaking on strangers things; i am happy hop is alive, but they way the wrote him surviving was too obvious of plot armor. oh he just jump onto the lower level, no major injuries or burns??? Like there was always another level below the machine, in the season 3 finale you literally see like 4 of the bad guys in hazzmat suits on that lower level be turned to dust. Also it would been more interesting to see him stuck in the upside down instead. But i did enoy that plotline over all, specially the prison breakout, betrayal, and monster fighting. The hawkings crew had the strongest arc, but i did genuinely enjoy all of them. the Bullyying though...... that was fcking extreme man and hard to watch ngl. Like who on earth bullies someone for grieving their dead father 😭 the skating rink...... like i dont condone violence but like somebody had to put her down. Also the van and dinner scene right after that were so fcking funny to me. also least favorite character this season is that one dude thats basically the archice andrews of hawkings. i know they want me to find him cute, but he just bothers me ksjdhfhdh. Also i liked vecna as a villian more when we didnt know who he actually was, like idk i just like itd be better if he originated from the upside down, but i do see why the connected it the way they did. My adhd brain doesnt mind the 294848 different plots tbh and long episodes, but i do hope the last two episodes is everybody coming together and staying together for more than that one group scene they have every season. Also i know its likely someone will die, i just hope none of the kids, i cant handle that, srry to the adults but yeah... anways i rewatched the first three season after finishing the 4th and season 2 remains my favorite

i agree. i think it would've been more interesting to have him stuck in the upside down, but I'm not sure how good the CGI would've been able to hold up having him there practically the entire time. but his plot was one of the more interesting, in my opinion! i liked it a lot, and as I've said previously, i still think the prison break where he fights the demagorgen is one of the best scenes in the whole season.

the bullying was SUPER extreme like it made me hate angela with a burning passion of course lmao and i did not feel bad one bit when she finally got knocked in the face with the skate but the dramatic reaction from the cops? it was almost funny because it felt so absurd to me after everyone saw what was happening to her on that rink. like talk shit you get hit sorry :/

NOT ARCHIE ANDREWS pls its so real. every time he was on screen (that poor actor... his line deliveries were so bad) my mom and i cracked up lmao

and yes?? i was way more intrigued with vecna as a character when i assumed he was just another monster. not a great villain, in my opinion, as his presence did not rock me the same way the demagorgen, the demadogs, and the mind flayer did in seasons past, but he was alright. him being a human who morphed into this demon/monster hybrid that... preys on teens regrets and trauma or some shit is so dumb I'm sorry like what's the point. i wanted more also i wanted a better monster design he kinda just looks like a similar design to Predator

people keep speculating that steve might die, but unless joe keery wants to leave the show and pursue other opportunities, i don't see that happening. the blowback from fans would be unreal, so i think it might be a main character that isn't as present (like jonathan jesus he doesn't even exist here anymore tbh) but i don't think it will be one that's TOO beloved just for the shock factor idk

i actually was planning on going back and watching the first three seasons as well! season 2 will always reign supreme in my mind, but I haven't watched the seasons back since I did the very first time so it will be cool to watch it all over again knowing where the story is in S4

[futurebicon]

No Control Part 2

Part 2. I'm actually managing to write these faster than I thought I would be able to. Part 3 will probably take a little bit longer considering I had more time during the weekend. But I hope part 3 will be out as soon as I can write it.

Warning- hospital, mentions of car accident, semi and brief panic attack (?), no medical knowledge

Remus didn't know what to do as he sat in the cold metal chair of the hospital waiting room.

Leo was frozen. Staring blankly at the wall in front of him. His pupils were wide and his skin was a ghostly pale. His chest was rising and falling quicker than it probably should be.

He was 19 years old. He had never lost someone before and now he was in danger of loosing one of the loves of his life. No wonder his mind was trying to protect him.

Shock

Finn was pacing the room and would of punched the wall about half a dozen times if Dumo hadn't stopped him.

Anger

Remus didn't know what was going on. He kept looking towards the doors thinking Sirius would walk through them with his bright smile and kiss him with his soft lips. "Ready to go, mon loup? Doctors said I'm fine so you can stop your worrying. Lets go home and cuddle and maybe later I can prove to you just how fine I am."

Denial

+++

The team trickle in quickly.

James and Lily first. James wanted a play by play of what happened as Lily ran over to Remus with tears on her face. She pulled him into her side and let him cry.

Regulus was next. Pale and frantic. He went over to Leo after squeezing Remus's shoulder in a desperate attempt to comfort. He sat beside his best friend and didn't say anything, just let him process what was happening while hoping his presence help enough.

Remus must have zoned out because when he blinked again the entire team had filled the small waiting room.

"What happened?" James asked again.

"Uh-" Remus explained how they got the call with stuttered and hitched breaths.

+++

"Sirius Black?" The doctor walked into the waiting room.

"Is he okay?" Remus jumped up.

She smiled kindly. "Have a seat."

That can't be good.

"Sirius is in surgery right now to fix severe internal bleeding in his head and to remove his spleen which was ruptured in the crash."

"Oh god." James breathed.

"Now I know it sounds extremely bad but he can survive without a spleen. The only long lasting effects will be a weakened immune system." She calmed their nerves only slightly.

"He does have severe head trauma, the extent of which we won't know until he wakes up. He broke four ribs, one of which punctured his lung. Along with that he also broken both his tibula and his fibula on his left leg. And has severe whiplash. It might not seem like it but he is suspected to make a full recovery. I'll be back if anything happens and when he's out of surgery." She left the room, passing a man in a matching white coat on the way out.

"Logan?" Leo choked.

The doctor nodded and sat down. "His injuries are extensive but he will be able to make a full recovery."

They all let out a sigh of relief.

"He has severe internal bleeding in his chest, abdomen, and head. He also has severe whiplash. His kidney's were mildly damage and he has bruising on his heart. I know it sounds terrifying but all it means is he needs to take it slow and not move around too much." He told them. "You'll be able to see him once we get him stable."

"He- he's not stable?" Finn stammered.

"His vitals are taking a while to get under control." He hesitated. "But it's nothing too concerning considering the trauma his body went through."

They two didn't say anything and the doctor left the room to silence.

+++

Logan was awake when they came in.

"Hi, loves." He rasped out.

Finn sobbed and had to stop himself from flinging himself into his injured boyfriend.

"Shh. I'm okay. I'm okay." His words were slow but held comfort as he cupped his face with a bandaged hand. "I'm okay."

"Lo" Leos voice was gasped and choked. He made no attempt to hide the fear.

"Hey Peanut." Logan smiled. "Come here"

Leo took a step towards him and stopped. "I dont- um- what if I-"

"You're not gonna hurt me. I'm okay."

"But I could." He scanned the room like he was trapped.

"Hey" Finn stood up and walked over to the teenager who hadn't fully come out of his shock yet and seeing his love like this made his mind want to hide away again.

"Here." He gently led him over to the hospital bed. "He's okay."

"Hi, my baby." Logan smiled and grabbed Leo's hand.

"You're okay?"

"I'm okay." Logan nodded.

"Promise?" His voice was broken and his eyes never stopped their sweep of the room.

"I promise."

"Okay." He breathed out and finally calmed down enough to sit beside Logan's bed.

+++

"Hey, Loops" Logan nodded at the pale man as the team walked in. "Any updates?"

"He's still in surgery." His voice was rough with tears and misuse. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore and in pain but I'm alive." He shrugged.

"Thankfully." Dumo walked over.

"Hey, Dumo." Logan hugged him as well as he could.

"Scared me for a while there, kiddo."

"Sorry about that."

"So what happened exactly?" Kasey asked.

"We were gonna go get something to eat and Sirius turned at a greenlight. Someone ran the light and hit Sirius's side. We spun out and then rolled, fuck I don't even know, a lot of times. I think I blacked out on the six or seventh roll. Maybe the second. It felt like forever. I don't know when, or if, Sirius blacked out." Logan explained.

"Kept saying your name though." He looked up at Remus.

Remus's hazel eyes filled with tears and he let out a sob into his elbow.

"Sorry."

"No, no it's okay." Remus sniffled back the tears. "Just, uh, just worried. You know?"

"He'll be alright." Logan told him before smiling. "We just have to come up with some new nickname for him now that he doesn't have a spleen or an immune system."

"Spleenless."

"Captain of the sick ship."

"Sniffles"

"Captain Spleen."

"No mo munie."

They all threw around names.

"He's gonna be more upset about the fact that he won't be able to hide when he's sick than he'll be about the missing organ." James laughed.

"Probably." Remus nodded.

Their laughs were cut off by a knock on the door. "Remus Lupin?" Sirius's doctor, Dr. Gemma, walked in.

"Yeah. What's going on? Is he alright?"

"He's out of surgery and awake." She told them with a kind smile.

"So he's okay?"

"He is showing signs of very, very slight amnesia. Just not remembering the accident at all which is completely understandable and no cause for concern."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course." She nodded.

Remus followed after her with whispers to update them on how he is.

+++

"I do have to warn you about the possible side effects he could start to show or is already showing." Dr. Gemma said as they walked down the long hallways.

"Like what?"

"As I said he does have slight amnesia. He seems to either be having hearing problems or is having a hard time understanding speech. Possibly both. He might also be having difficulty thinking. There is other symptoms that he hasn't shown yet but might in the future, headaches, seizure, nausea, vomiting, fever, and more. If any of these happen or anything concerning, page us immediately."

They finally turned down the hallway that seemed to be his.

"I'll let you two be, and again, page us immediatly if anything happens or if you need anything. Okay?" They stopped outside his door.

"Okay, thank you."

"No need for thanks." She smiled. "Now go see him. You were the first thing he asked about when he woke up."

Remus smiled at that and pushed the door open. He tried hard not to react to all the wires surrounding him but it was hard not too. All he could do to try was hurry over to his lovers side.

"Hi, baby." He smiled through tears as his hazel eyes saw grey. "Hi" He gripped his hand tightly.

"Re" Sirius said slowly.

"Yeah. yeah. It's me, baby. I'm right here. You're okay. You're okay." He kissed his forehead to hide the tears.

"Don't- cry- mon loup." It took him a while to say.

"Sorry. You just scared me for a little while." Remus smiled at him. "Are you feeling okay?"

Sirius gave him a confused look.

"What? What's wrong? Are you okay? What do you need?" Remus rambled in concern.

"Shh" Sirius set a hand on Remus's. "Okay" He talked about himself. "Just, too many."

"Too many what, love?"

"Words. Can't know. Don't think." He was begining to get frustrated.

"It's okay." Remus said slower. "I know. It's okay."

Sirius nodded and relaxed against the pillows.

"Said Logan- with- hurt?" the words were chopped and Remus could see the frustration in his eyes.

"Logan was in the car." Remus nodded. "But he's okay. The team is with him."

"Team?" Sirius furrowed his eyebrows and blinked in confusion.

"Your hockey team." Remus tried to keep the panic out of his voice. "James, Dumo, Logan, Leo, Finn, Kasey, Walker, Kuny, Olli-"

"I remember." Sirius cut him off. "Just forgot."

"That's okay. The doctors said that would happen."

"See them?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"See the doctors?"

"No. Team."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah. I'm sure the team will be here soo-"

As if they heard them, a group of hockey players knocked on the door and walked into the hospital room

I really don't like this part compared to part one.

Thank you @lumosinlove for letting us take your happy, lovely characters and make them be in pain

[celosiaa]

I dont know if you're taking prompts at the moment but when you have time if the idea interests you what about martin greying after their time in the apocalypse and growing a beard and being distressed because he looks like his father. jon comforts him and helps him feel better about his appearance. maybe some soft domestic comfort where jon helps martin dye his hair and shave the beard away to look like himself again.

hi friend!!! thank you for this prompt, it’s probably not perfect bc I wrote it really fast!! But I hope you like it anyway :)

CW panic attack

When Jon wakes, head still spinning in the light of the sun, Martin is once again gone. And Jon is so, so very tired.

Tired of the weariness, the deep ache that has settled so heavily in his bones he is unsure if he will ever truly shake it. Tired of the sapping away of his strength, as he attempts to rebuild, day by day by day even after a year has gone by since the end of all things.

Tired of waking up alone.

It’s a wonderful thing, in a way, to know that something is wrong with Martin rather than Knowing it—the realization that he is, in fact, able to discern when something is bothering the love of his life is a rather comforting fact, after everything. Even so, he finds himself frustrated. Frustrated with the fact that he cannot intuit the source of his husband’s distress, much less pull anything out of him.

Martin is shutting down. Plain as day. And it terrifies him.

Running a hand briefly over the Martin-shaped imprint beside him, long gone cold, Jon props himself up on too-slender arms, waiting a moment for the spots to clear from his vision, and standing on too-slender legs. At once, he reaches for his cane at the bedside, finding his injury sitting heavy in his hip this day—and heads quietly out of the room and into the hall.

If Jon had not known better, he would never have guessed that Martin were there at all. For the entirety of their normally-cozy, tiny little flat seems nothing but desolate and dustladen and darkening, ever darkening. Something Lonely creeping through every window sill, beneath the outside door, through the vents—

Streaming from the open bathroom door.

Of course, Jon had seen it coming for days, had tried to warn Martin of the fog carried on each of the few words he has spoken over the past few days. But it did not matter—Martin has often explained how muffled everything becomes while he finds himself once again in this place. Muffled and meaningless and fading, fading. Buried under guilt and fear and apologies, so many apologies that Jon could drown in them.

And now, perhaps—just perhaps, he might let him in. If the open door of the bathroom is a sign to be taken as hopeful.

“Martin,” he calls as he approaches the doorframe. “Habibi, are you alright?”

Upon looking in, he finds Martin leaning over the sink—staring with empty eyes back into the emptiness of his reflection in the mirror, fog swirling so thick beneath his glasses it’s a wonder he can see at all. The word that comes first to Jon’s mind is frozen—and he cannot help but hurt over just how long he has stood here, alone and in his private grief, limbs shaking ever so slightly in their static hold.

“Habibi,” he starts again—quieter this time, stepping a bit closer. “Look at me. I’m right here.”

He follows these words with resting a hand against his forearm—ever so gentle and cautious, yet Martin jumps bodily all the same.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Jon continues, without moving his hand away.

“…what?” is the eventual reply, so dim and far away it echoes, swirling around Jon’s head dizzyingly.

“Look at me, Martin. Can you look at me?” he pleads, beginning to rub his hand up and down his forearm now, anything to create some warmth over his ice-cold skin.

“Jon.”

“Yes. Right here, please look at me.”

At last, at long last—Martin turns his face away from the mirror, the fog beginning to dissipate from his eyes as soon as he meets Jon’s. The ache of it all sends something twisting in his stomach, over the fact that this still happens so regularly, that Martin still struggles to be open, even with him, even after all this time.

And buries it.

“There you are,” he soothes as he slips a hand up and into his hair, beginning to stroke through it as Martin starts to come back to himself. “You with me?”

He blinks a few more times, slowly, strangely—before tensing suddenly beneath Jon’s hands, eyes blown wide as he gasps in a breath.

“J-Jon—”

“Easy. Easy, now,” he murmurs easily, grasping at his arm once again. “Just sit down. You’re alright.”

“Jon—”

“Sit down, my love.”

Back to the wall, Martin slides down to sitting braced against it—bowing his head between his knees at once, one hand against his throat as he gasps for something beyond the fog to fill his lungs. Jon steps over his feet—coming to rest on the side of the tub, leaning forward to keep a gentle pressure moving across his shoulders as he works through the panic. All too common panic, unfortunately.

“I’m here. I’m right here.”

As always, Jon feels so helpless here. He knows there is very little to be done but to sit and wait, talk if it helps, stop if it doesn’t, always keeping that contact to ground Martin in warmth. Every time his heart breaks—and every time he swallows the lump in his throat, no matter how thick with fog it may be.

“I’m right here.”

Several minutes pass this way, rapid breaths fading into rhythm, color returning back to Martin’s skin, the fog at at last dissipating into the floor beneath them. And finally—finally—Martin looks up, eyes just barely meeting Jon’s for a moment before he covers them in shame.

“God, I’m so sorry, Jon,” he croaks, scrubbing over his eyes as he speaks. “Happened again.”

“No need, habibi,” Jon replies, as always. “No need.”

And still the silence remains for a while, Jon’s hand never leaving Martin’s back, Martin’s hand never falling away from his eyes in his misery. It is in this moment, feeling his husband shaking beneath him for the third morning in a row, and the fourth this week, that Jon makes a decision.

“Martin,” he begins, pausing to worry at his lower lip for a moment. “Martin, please…please tell me why this is happening.”

“You don’t need to worry about it,” comes the terrible reply, the one that tells Jon there is so much hurt still left to heal in his soul.

“I am worried. And will continue to worry, because I love you.”

A small huff of laughter behind a ghost of a smile.

“I love you too,” he replies, as if still shocked he is allowed to say it.

“Then please—talk to me.”

“It’s silly—it’s nothing, I dunno why it’s bothering me so much,” he continues, at last letting the hand covering his eyes fall and rest atop his knee. “And—and I’m sorry it’s—it’s worrying you. But I’m alright.”

Yet another small and fragile thing shatters in Jon’s chest over this—this utter falsehood, that he would ever see Martin drowning in the Lonely and think only of himself. That he would ever think that way.

“I-I wouldn’t—this isn’t about me, Martin,” he assures, refusing to bely the hurt pushing against the steadiness of his voice. “I know that you are hurting. Please—please tell me why, and I will help.”

“Jon—”

“That’s all I want. Is to help.”

A moment—a long, terrible moment in which Jon cannot be sure he is trusted, cannot be sure he is ready to talk. That he will have to accept whatever the next breath brings, even if it hurts. Even if it hurts.

Please please please

“I—like I said, it’s silly, right?” Martin begins to choke out, tears rising immediately as he begins to speak. “I-I know it is. And I’m just going to sit here and blubber about it like a fool.”

“It’s not silly if it hurts you.”

“I—well, just—just wait till you hear it,” he says tremulously, letting out a terribly damp little laugh at the end, swiping at his eyes yet again. “It’s just that—with the, the grey, and the—beard, I—god—I look just like my dad.”

And there it is at last, the aching truth of it all. The trauma Martin would rather call silliness. The panic he would rather call a terrible display of dramatics. The tears he will apologize for in three, two—

“God, I’m so sorry,” he bursts through gritted teeth, trying desperately to make a noise sounding something like laughter.

“Martin—”

“It’s so silly, I—”

“Stop, stop.”

Catching both of Martin’s hands in his own, Jon grips them tightly, tilting his head in a gesture that begs Martin to look, please look at me. And when he does, eyes still brimming and barely holding together—it’s nearly enough to do Jon in altogether.

“It is not silly,” he begins forcefully, gently. “You have every right to feel upset by this. This—this pain makes sense—and it is real, and it is justified. Alright?”

The damp smile Jon receives in return is enough to tell him that Martin does not really believe him, perhaps he never will—but that his words are appreciated all the same.

“Now listen. There are some things we could do that might help, alright?” he continues, starting to massage Martin’s hands gently as the tears begin to fall in earnest, trying to keep his shoulders from shaking. “I could—I could help you dye it. Any color at all. And—only if you want—I can help you shave. If you think it might help.”

A laugh—a real, if still damp, laugh comes from him then—cast in the glow of a genuine smile. As it always has and always will—it sets Jon’s heart fluttering with love for this man, for his anchor—for his love. For his always.

“Yeah, I—heh—” he begins, swiping away the remaining wetness with another laugh. “Early thirties is a bit young to go grey, I reckon.”

“Is it now?” Jon teases at once, a grin spreading wide across his face, tossing his own greying hair over one shoulder. “Is that young to go grey?”

“Oh come off it,” Martin says, rolling his eyes, bumping a shoulder against Jon’s leg. “You know what I meant.”