#ooooo neon friends
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onenicebugperday · 2 years ago
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Rothschild’s silk moth, Rothschildia erycina, Saturniidae
Found from Mexico down through Brazil and Paraguay
Photo 1 by madeleiine, 2 by michel405, 3 by lupoli_roland, 4 by anabio_93, 5 by juanlu98, 6 by siddantas, 7 by indianacristo, 8 by philkahler, and 9-10 by albertogg
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onyxedskies · 3 months ago
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oooo you wanna get into Metaphor ReFantazio... you wanna get into Metaphor ReFantazio so bad...
look at this beautiful boy. you need to save him...
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by facing your fears and anxieties, you'll awaken to heroic archetypes that slumber within each and every person and stylishly take on threats with your squad to get stronger on your quest...
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you want to play this game so bad..... it comes out on October 11th... it's a new IP from the newest Atlus team, Studio Zero and features creators such as :
Katsura Hashino, director of Persona 3, 4, 5 and SMTIII
Shigenori Soejima, character designer of P3-5 and Catherine
Shoji Meguro, composer from various Atlus games, including P3-5 and SMTIII
concept artist Koda Kazuma from Nier Automata
mecha designer Ikuto Yamashita from Neon Genesis Evangelion
character designer Yuji Himukai from Etryan Odyssey
ohhhhhhhhhhh you wanna check out this game... tell your friends about it.......
( @dazzlerazz tell him !!!! support my ridiculous shilling my friend !!! )
ooooo this does seem cool wait
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freakshow2002 · 2 years ago
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⚠Warning⚠ eye strain NEON PINK WITH DARK COLOR.
Ooooo! Yes Yanderes with my friend's of and mine 😭😭😭
I know bill is canon as a yandere, hehe we'll get to that later!
I'm writing here so I have excuse, these are sketches j feel I'm not posting enough even though I'm tired, it's 11pm usually I stay up until 2am. If you have any questions let me know I'm happy to answer ����😤 chow!!
@raindrops20
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sapphanimates · 7 months ago
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Ooooo I would love to see what you've been drawing
Okay! (Sorry it took a while to respond, I needed my mom's phone to take pictures)
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(The lighting kinda sucks but oh well)
Mostly what I did while I was gone was redraw old characters I created when I was little, like around 4th - 6th grade.
All of them are from various things, like all the dragons were from a set of dragon identification cards I made, kind of similar to HTTYD. Brief descriptions of all characters under the cut:
The dragon species I drew were the Acidstrike, Blitzfire, Cavernous Rockslider, and Golden Beetle. Blitzfire was originally called Spinfire, Cavernous was Shaded, and Beetle was Wings. I did my best to reinvent them and make the dragons look like they could be actual creatures with proper anatomy.
Zenith (the purple cat creature) was from the same universe as the dragons, but they were a race of colorful magical cats. I used to call the species "Furries" with an -ie because I was too lazy to come up with a unique name.
Rex (the red fox) was from a world of various magical animals, mostly foxes and seals. He was the leader of some kind of evil organization. All the members were red and had skull iconography.
Rogue (calico kitten) was actually made as a one-off Black Butler OC for a friend's Gacha Life comic, and was Sapph's daughter (this was back when Sapph wasn't my sona and just an OC). From there I added her to Sapph's story officially, before making Rogue and a few other kitten characters into a group called "The Naughty Kittens." Despite the unoriginal name, they were pretty fun to draw. Maybe I'll remake it some day.
Willow (black and white cat with neon) I don't entirely remember the story for. She was one of a bunch of fusion animal OCs, and I ended up repurposing design elements for a completely different character, before scrapping it altogether.
And lastly, the fox girl. I don't remember her name. It's probably in one of the other sketchbooks, I'm pretty sure it was something like 'Alex?' She was designed by an old friend of mine back in 5th grade. We grew apart over the years and lost touch, only occasionally hearing of them from mutual friends. Sadly, they passed away last year, supposedly from an overdose. They were a very talented artist, and I dedicate this final redraw to them.
I had a lot of fun with these drawings, and getting better at practicing shading and color balancing on paper. I definitely want to more of these in the future!
(Oh and if you want to see the originals for reference, let me know)
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judasofsuburbia · 1 year ago
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💌 and 💫 for the writer's ask game 😘
HIIII JANAI<3 finally getting back to these YAY
💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!
OOOOO okay i am so so so so so close to finishing waking up in vegas so here's a lil snippet just for shits and giggles:
They are on their way back to the hotel, waiting around for their Uber when Steve spots it. A little white chapel. The neon sign had two rings clinking together and hearts flowing around them. Steve holds up his left hand to the sign and giggles to himself.  “That could be us!” Eddie whispers into his ear.  “What?” Steve asks, squeezing his hip.  “Getting like‒” Eddie stumbles over his words through uncontrollable laughter. “Like married and shit. We could be happy forever!” Happy forever. Didn’t that sound nice? Steve’s been happy all night. Unbelievably so. The boy he’s been crushing on for years is practically glued to his side and his friends are letting loose. The music is good. The air is sweet. He could have this forever.
💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?
i adore any kind of comment and feedback but my absolute fave is keyboard smashing after quoting something they loved from the fic<3 it's like i can hear you scream off the screen<3
send me some fic writer asks!!
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gmanwhore · 1 year ago
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Sending this at like, 12 am because I can't sleep and I'm super proud of this, you can answer this ask whenever you please!!
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Also I am so sorry for staying up later then I should have, I just had too much energy and couldn't sleep, thanks anti-depressants, really appreciate it/Sar. Anyways, love you so so much and I hope you had a good sleep and or day!!!! I love you a lot my little mantis!!!
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I wrote a roleplay starter for my partner Ghost with an OC ship, Lilac x Reno, and a little context for their relationship: They're a bit of a toxic relationship, they broke up at some point, but they kept going back to one another, Lock is protective of Lilac which is why she's giving Reno the dirty look, also, yes, Lock plays electric guitar and sings in her free time, yippee, anyways, I wanted to show you the response because holy crap am I ever proud of it!!!
Also, yes, their dynamic is based around Ghost and Mine, which is why the song Bad Romance is heavily implied.
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♡ 𝗕𝗔𝗗 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ¡! ♡
꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
⋆ ❱ He couldn't stay away from them. They were like an addiction and all Reno wanted to do was get high off of them. Off of their love. He couldn't get enough. They were a 𝑩𝒂𝒅 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆.
꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
⋆ ❱ Here he was, in his element, the music in the club blaring, people on the dance floor, dancing a little too close for comfort, people screaming over the music, crowds of people in the corners, the bartender talking it up with a hooker, people drunkenly slurring over their words and fighting, the lights flashing brightly, neon colors all around the club, but he only had his eye on one particular someone. He leaned back on the counter, smiling like a lovesick fool at them as they laughed and talked to their group of friends which consisted of Koi, Koju, and a few others. He swirled the whiskey in his cup and sighed, placing it on the counter and making his way over to Lilac, adjusting his undone suit, his baton lazily on his shoulder. He noticed Lock who was up on the stage, playing her guitar and singing, giving Reno a dirty look, causing Reno to cringe a little and hesitate to approach Lilac. He knew how rocky he and Lilac's relationship was and he really wanted to make amends, but Locks warning look wasn't helping him at all.
⋆ ❱ He sucked a deep breath in and exhaled, finally coming up behind Lilac and tapping them on the shoulder, putting on his famous cocky grin, leaning a little lazily to the side as he tilts his head to the side. However you could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes.
"Hey. Long time no see, huh?"
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Ooooo, nice!
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sinnabee · 2 years ago
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aaa @scarredkitty thanks for the tag!!!! :D
Do you play an instrument? yep! or at least i used to? i played the french horn all throughout middle and highschool! :D i was pretty good imo, and i’d probably have been even better if i actually practiced abshsjsjskssk
Favorite book characters? oh man. one of them definitely has to be the character “pumpkin” from May Bird and the Ever After, i remember i used to think he just had a jack-o-lantern head, but actually he was much more horrifying than that! :D besides pumpkin, i’d have to say that i absolutely ADORE Miryem from Spinning Silver and the main character El (for for galadriel fuck yeah) from the Lessons of the Scholomance series. both of those last ones are by Naomi Novik, and she’s an author i would trust with my god damn LIFE. highly reccomend!!!
Star Sign? taurus! which tbh i’ve always found kind of lame!!!! do you know what’s extra fuckin lame???? with my goddamn birth year, on the chinese zodiac i’m also!!! fuckin OX!!! SO MY SIGN IS JUST FUCKING. BULL BULL. RAAAUUGH
Favorite color schemes? i fuckin LOVE pastels, specifically tho pastel orange!! (my fave;;;) but also. lmao. whenever i personally try to color things they always end up like - 90’s colors bright neons. pink and purple and teal oh my!
Naps or long sleep? long sleep!!! i’m tired of getting eepy in the middle of the day and having to nap when my friends and i are hanging out!!! >:T
What languages do you speak? just english unfortunately! i am however on a duolingo kick rn - i’m learning russian! i know spanish would be more useful, at the hospital and living in the south/the states, BUT. highschool spanish classes have left some scars, alright? my brain shuts down. plus i’ve wanted to learn russian since like middle school!!!!!! i’ve always thought it was neat :D don’t ask me why. there was certain media in middle school so if you know then you know
Dreams/aspirations? i wanna write a book!!!! or at least a long fanfic and COMPLETE IT one day!!! been suffering a really long writers block, but i still think about it a lot! also - i DESPERATELY want my own house that me and my gf can live in and eventually be married, not to be sappy absjsjsdk
Long or short hair? i had long hair literally my entire childhood and a decent chunk of my early 20’s. now that i’m moved out i’ve chopped it all off and OOOOO i am never goin back!!! i love my short hair so much <3
Tea or Coffee? heehee. neither? not to be blasphemous, but i don’t like sweet tea (despite living in the south, smells/tastes like hay to me) and i’ll drink an iced coffee every now and then, but it’s not really my thing. i choose… dr pepper
Bring a book character to life or go to a fictional world? FICTIONAL WORLD FICTIONAL WORLD FICTIONAL WORLD. listen. listen to me. literally all i read in fanfic is isekais and ocs. someone being thrown into something magical and amazing (sometimes horrifying) and different from their normal life??? i eat that shit UP. :D
tags! feel free to ignore i know it’s a lot of typing, so just if u feel up to it! <3
@afssh @ditzy-lemon @strawberryitzi @ranchdiip @coolesth @tarotbonez @paper-lilypie @vurelly @crow-with-a-pencil @newts-and-sharks @happyebooks @slamkattari-blog @moonliched @madamemiz @pillowspace
alright that’s probably too many as it is but yayayaya! have fun y’all!!! :D
Wanna get to know my tumblr friends better cuz y'all are dope so have a tag game challenge if you want :)
Also, if you don’t wanna answer anything you don’t need to.
♫Do you play an instrument?
•Favourite book characters?
•What’s your star sign?
•Favourite colour schemes?
•Naps or long sleep?
•What languages do you speak?
•Dreams/aspirations?
•Long hair or Short Hair?
•Tea or coffee?
•Bring a book character to life or go into a fictional world?
No pressure tags: @thebestieyoureinlovewith @nikolaistealcoat @grishaverse-chaos @lostinfantasyworldsbi @lilisouless @l3st1b0urn3s-707 @arany-studio @waluigicumjar
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allulily · 4 years ago
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flicking lighters on over and over again bc it's pretty fire and makes u feel somthing
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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago
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i wonder
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i wonder (if you remember the way we looked at each other)
— Living as roommates with your best friend is easy until someone fucks up and catches feelings.
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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, smut fem!reader, and they were roommates, childhood friends!au, university!au, quirkless!au, modern!au, americanized university experience, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, the plot is for the sex AHA, womanizer!shouto, shouto and reader are bad roommates but seiji is worse, shouto has sex at 16 for the first time, vouyerism-ish, iffy shouto tendencies, jealous!shouto, jealous!reader, drunk sex so dubcon depending on you, nipplegasms, reader has nipple piercings, blowjob, switching, marking, biting, scratching, praise kink, missing tag ;)
word count: 20,141
a/n: this is for the roommates bnharem collab! please check out all the other amazing fics and art! note to self, dont get drunk the night before this is due and I hope you guys enjoy this!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! also,,, sorry if mobile doesn’t correctly format!
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You cracked your eyes open.
The gentle white stream of light permeated through soft cotton curtains, lighting the room in pale stripes and careful touches. Dust particles danced within the shining light, bending and twirling with the flowing air and moving winds. You breathed in deeply, your body still tired, your head still foggy from a night of distractions and too many drinks. 
Your eyes are closed once again, your still hazy mind trying to ignore the bitter, rank taste of the alcohol and cum on your tongue and your hands scratching as your naked cleavage. There was still enough time in the day; it was Sunday after—
Wait.
CUM?!
Your eyes flew open, your lips smacking each other as you confirm the awful, salty taste of cum on your tongue. Your hands swiping up and down your front to confirm your state of undress. Your heart starts hammering in your chest, your palms immediately sweating as you try to think about just who the fuck you ended up back in bed with.
Think, y/n, think!
A small grunt came from behind you, and you felt your entire body go rigid immediately. The soft expel of air fanning against your sticky neck is both welcomed and untrusted. With what can only be described as you, as stiff as a stick, peering behind your shoulder similar to a mother who definitely heard her child throw up on her bed but is somehow praying that she was hearing shit, you turned around.
A messy bedhead of red and white greeted you: unfocused, sleepy grey, and brilliant blue eyes staring back at you with fond familiarity and welcome.
“‘Morning, y/n,” Todoroki Shouto grumbles, voice husky, scratchy, deeply warm from his slumber. His next words are damning, though, the slight pride and knowing implications in the small breathe he uttered next. “Had fun last night?”
There was silence, a stroke of hesitancy, then crushing all-consuming fear.
You screamed.
At the top of your lungs.
O N E  W E E K  A N D  A  D A Y  E A R L I E R
“Who the fuck touched my fucking Angry Orchard Rosés?!” a voice snapped from the kitchen; the tone was fed up, seconds from blasting to smithereens.
You were in the living room, a pair of sweats on, your hair not put together, your face still bare. The music you played as part of your pregame ritual was practically vibrating the wooden floor as you sang along to your music. The telling glass bottle of deliciously pink alcohol swinging inconspicuously between your fingers as you drank it between verses. Despite your other roommate (who you repeatedly told your friends to be ‘like Bakugou but a gazillion times worse because you don’t and can’t like him,’) being seconds from trying to start another feud or possibly a lawsuit against you, your mouth dropped in mock shock before guzzling down the rest of the drink.
“I saw that you fucking skank!” Shishikura Seiji screeched from the kitchen; his stomps were long and heavy as he made his way from the kitchen to the living room where you were. “There were two bottles left in there! Don’t tell me your alcoholic ass drank them both! So help me, I’ll press on your damn chest until you’re puking out my drink.”
“Shishikura, stop,” Shouto spoke up, his own arm raising as he took a long, slow drink from the other missing rosé bottle. “These are 2% alcohol, you’ve had them in the fridge for months now, and you never drink them anyways.”
You grinned as you pulled the glass bottle from your lip, your face failing at the fake look of surprise, guilt, and sorrow for your unwanted and unneeded roommate.
“Sorry, they’re such girly drinks. I figured I’d take them off your hands,” you speak with distractingly bright amusement. “Alcoholics like me, we don’t care. Watch out; I might go for your mouth wash if you’re not too careful.”
“You do that, and I’ll poison you like a damn bitch,” Shishikura threatened, his voice in a menacing growl.
“Ooooo, you want me to bark for you, Shishikura? Want me on my hands and knees?” you taunt back, walking backward until you’re collapsing onto the couch besides Shouto. Your arm quickly sneaks between his, and you lay your head on his shoulder. Shishikura’s face is flushed red, his pupils beady as he trembles with concealed rage.
“She’s quite good at it,” Shouto chimes in, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smirk as he takes another drink of the weak liquor. He shifts on the couch, allowing you to curl more comfortably at his side; the both of you know just how much your incredibly prude roommate hates any sort of PDA. “Want to hear her bark? She’s also quite good with her tongue.”
As if to emphasize Shouto’s point, you stuck out your tongue, refusing to break eye contact with Shishikura as the tip of your tongue breached the opening of the bottle.
“The actual fuck is wrong with the both of you?!” Shishikura spluttered, his face somehow turning purple and green and red. A truly incredible sight to be had. “‘Childhood friends are great roommates to have’ my fucking ass, you both are monstrosities!”
Shishikura stormed out of the living room, his ears neon red as his purple hair fell to cover his face. As soon as he was out of sight, you turned to Shouto, your tongue removing itself from the bottle and back into your mouth as you began to laugh loudly.
Childhood friends to roommates, ah, what a remarkable story you had with Todoroki Shouto.
It was accurate to relay that you had known Shouto for more than seventeen years now at your current age of twenty-one. Seventeen years of being what is easily seen as the best of friends, the closest companions, and indeed a bond that would withstand time and situation. 
The two of you met during the first week of what was preschool. Although both of you could not remember a single instance of events during this time, your mothers had always been excited to relay this story to you for many years that you could remember. It was odd to try to remember it, but even as they painted a picture of your first interaction, you could do nothing but admit that it sounded exactly like how it could have gone. 
You couldn’t remember being four years old; you don’t recall what it was like to strain your neck to look up at your parents or how it felt to be so utterly dependent but to scream brazenly about your childish independence. Your mother smiles when she retells the story of your first interaction, of how you were holding her hand as she walked you to the building where your preschool was to be had. 
Your hand was so small in hers. Tightly clutching onto her fingers as you looked around at the other children who were also arriving or had already arrived. Some children were bawling by their parents, others aimlessly playing with toys, and some were attempting to talk to one another, but by the apparent looks of curiosity surrounding the babbling and rambling tangents that could only be understood by a firing toddler brain, everyone was getting along. 
A teacher greeted you kindly, squatting down to reach your eye level as they excitedly introduced themselves and asked for your name. You, of course, with your hands clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress, responded with hesitant confidence.
“You’re such a brave girl!” the teacher awed happily, stretching out a hand for you. “Is it okay if I take you from your mom and show you which cubby is yours?”
There was a moment of confusion, then clear understanding hovering over your little head. Your mom looked down with an encouraging smile and pushed you forward.
“Do I get a middle cubby? I don’t want a top one,” you admit, your hand stretching out to grab the teacher’s stretched-out hand. 
Your mother watched on happily as you removed your schoolbag and lunchpail and placed them neatly within the somehow middle cubby marked with your name. The teacher also helped you put on your white school slippers before gesturing towards the bright, colorful room, their mouth moving as if explaining every little detail before pointing at the corner. Your mother tilted her head, curious as she followed the teachers point to the corner of the room where a boy with exceptional red and white hair — split perfectly in the middle — sat quietly, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks.
(Shouto, although he can not remember this day himself, will argue with you and only you that he was, in fact, NOT crying.)
Trying to not allow the shock of the unnatural hair color affect her, your mother watched as you nodded to your new teacher and walked over with clenched fist confidence to the small boy.
She watched as you approached him, your jaw moving as you so obviously spoke, hopefully introducing yourself. The boy looked up at you with bright, wet eyes but seemed to speak right back to you. 
“Alright, parents! Thank you all for dropping off your children! Do not worry. We will take great care of them all, and they are in competent hands! First days are hard for everyone, so if you can exit quietly, I, and the rest of us teachers, would appreciate that greatly!”
Or at least that’s what Rei claimed the teacher said.  However, your mother was watching on with increasing exponential horror as she watched you throw a punch at the air before twisting around and pointing right at her and saying with a voice that was much too loud.
“Punch whoever made you cry, Shouto-chan! My mama says that it is okay to punch bullies!”
Thankfully no one but your mother heard you, and even though she scolded you on the way out, whisper yelling that you “better not punch anyone!” her relief was for naught.
When she would return in the afternoon, a bit late because there had been a hold up on the train, you were pouting sitting on the floor with a scuffled uniform, your arms crossed definitely. Next to you was the boy with red and white hair, equally scuffed next to a white-haired woman and an older white-haired boy.
“Oh my god, what happened?!” she shrieked, racing over to you.
“Y/l/n-san,” the teacher spoke with a tone that indicated disappointment with the subtle undertone of amusement. “Y/n-chan has something to tell you.”
Your mother had taught you many things, she will admit, in your very short life. But sass and annoyment was something not often seen in your household or in you, and to see it so blatantly on your chubby-cheeked face was quickly giving your mother greys.
“Shouto-chan told me that his stupid bully brother Touya was being a meanie, and so I helped him punch him back!” you said with tears in your eyes because you didn’t want to back down from your actions, but you also did not like being scolded. “I don’t regret it!”
“Y/n!”
“Y/n-chan!”
“I don’t either,” Shouto-chan grumbled as your mother collapsed to her knees and began to profusely apologize for you to the woman who was undoubtedly Shouto’s mother. “Touya-nii was making fun of my hair again… y/n-chan helped me, though. Please don’t scold her!”
To say the most in the shortest amount of time, you were, in fact, scolded despite Shouto’s begging. Touya stopped making fun of Shouto’s natural hair. Rei accepted your mother’s apology. The teachers were given two bottles of sake.
And, of course, the most important, the most paramount thing to arise from this first day of school was that your and Todoroki Shouto’s friendship was now bound by blood, sweat, and tears.
Preschool became elementary school, which became middle school, and fading into highschool.
It was without saying that your relationship, your friendship with Todoroki Shouto, was probably one of the biggest, most defining parts of your entire life. He was there when your first tooth fell out, when he dropped ice cubes down people’s shirts, you two had bathed together when you were young, had sleepovers well past the age where him being a boy and you being a girl should have made things weird. You laughed when his voice cracked and dropped, he elbowed your chest plenty when you began growing boobs, you taunted his lack of body hair, he bought you your favorite ice cream and heating packs on your first period. You attended cram school together, went to the park and beaches on days off from school. You were partners in every school activity except under specific circumstances. He had listened to you when you told him excitedly about your first kiss when you turned fourteen, and you laughed when he said at the age of fifteen that he had still yet to kiss anyone.
Everyone always claimed, always asked, wondered, and whispered if the two of you were dating. Childhood friends still this close and not dating? Unheard of; practically illegal! Nevertheless, you ignored the disappointed frowns or the hopeful grins as you and Shouto both denied any sort of romantic connection.
Soon the both of you were in high school, and Shouto was mere days from turning sixteen. Much like when the both of you were when you were four years old, you seemed to be the one spouting many words — sometimes unnecessary words that wound you both up in trouble — of wisdom. You were loud when you needed, talking most of the time only to him and your surprisingly large group of friends. (You weren’t that surprised. Everyone wanted to be friends with the handsome, could easily be royalty or a model, Todoroki Shouto.) Shouto remained, for better or worse, quiet, reserved, and a bit awkward. He was a sweet boy, don’t get it wrong, and you would protect him until the end of your days, but the boy was a complete airhead and relied on you for interpreting social interactions.
“Camie-senpai wants me to go over to her house after my birthday,” Shouto explains, his hands exchanging his school shoes for his outdoor ones. “Something about wanting to do that one second-year first-year student project thing for the third years right away.”
“You have Camie?” you ask, slumping against the metal lockers with a slight thud. “Lucky, she’s so nice… I have stupid Agoyamato. Have you had a conversation with him? It’s actually the worst! He thinks he’s all that!”
“I’m sure it’ll be okay; you’re nice enough that he won’t be like… that,” Shouto smiles, slinging his bag on his shoulders before nudging his head towards the exit. “Ready?”
“Am I ever ready?” you ask with a whine but nevertheless proceed onward.
Time passed, and between cram school, actual school, some clubs, eventually January 11th passed and you held an ice cream cake that Shouto loved. You ate the cake together, relaxing as you sat in the warmth of his kitchen.
“Happy birthday, Shoucchan, never change!” you chirp, shoving his arm that rose to place the piece of cake in his mouth with your shoulder and watched as the sweet pastry splattered on top of the table. “...um?”
“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”
“Only ten?! What about the happy birthday boy.”
“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”
“Why?!”
“It’s my birthday.”
An hour later, when your stomach hurt from laughing too much and the sickly sweet weight of too much ice cream cake, you lay snuggled into Shouto’s side as the both of you watched some old movie.
“Thanks for always being here for me,” you mumble, eyes growing heavy as the heat of Shouto’s body began to lull you to sleep.
“I’m always here for you,” Shouto softly responded, hand gliding up and down the curve of your spine. “We should get you home. Your mom yelled and nearly skinned us both the last time you fell asleep here.”
“Only cuz she’s scared that we’ll have some sudden revelation we like each other and fuck each other’s brains out,” you groaned, absolutely not content with having to move. With your face buried in your hands now, you missed the weird pattern in Shouto’s chest over that.
“Come on, let’s go.”
“...fine, just because it’s your birthday.”
The next day, when Shouto followed Camie home instead of you, there was something that made you feel off as you waved at them goodbye. It wasn’t jealousy, that much you knew, but something worse when you watched the way your never-been-kissed-before best friend was ignorant to the dark eyes Camie sent his way.
To be quite honest, you’re not sure if you should be as surprised as you are when you get a phone call at ten p.m. to the sound of a confused, suppressed, overwhelmed voice of your best friend asking if you could confirm if Camie had fucked him. You then stayed on the phone for Shouto until well past two a.m., your heart hurting as he recounted the memory over and over again. You weren’t sure as to why your heart was breaking. By the sounds of it, Shouto had actually enjoyed it, but with every stammer to his voice, you felt lightyears away.
Most shockingly, however, was the effects this had on Shouto and his overall persona.
From ages four until fifteen, Todoroki Shouto was someone who was quiet, observant, took things a bit too literally, at all times was entirely precious in the way he interacted with people, and most importantly, unaware of the female population who lusted after him. It worked well for you because it was fun to tease him about things, nag him about how he was sixteen, and hadn’t been kissed even though if he asked any girl at school to kiss him, they definitely would. 
But sixteen-year-old Todoroki Shouto was a new shift, a new paradigm for you to learn. It wasn’t that he wasn’t confident before, but now he emitted a sense of confidence that he was aware of, that everyone was aware of. He became mature, sophisticated, styled even. He was still at times quiet, always completely observant. He rarely took things literally and understood rhetoric and sarcasm and hyperboles. Long gone were the days of preciousness, and instead, there was a sense of a predator on the hunt that bled in the way that he talked to people. Most importantly, however, he was fully aware of the female population and precisely who was lusting after him.
He flirted with women and girls. You would find him leaning against the lockers talking with them, somehow trapping them despite not actually trapping them. A new girl was sitting at your table with him practically every week in high school, each girl asking for the hundredth millionth time that the both of you were not dating. Some girls were even bold enough to apologize to you for stealing your best friend — as if you wanted Shouto.
You had already seen his dick, thank you very much (although the last time you saw it was well before you were nine years old), you weren’t missing out on how it probably looked now! Honestly, you had no idea how Shouto never managed to run out of female students to fuck, the school wasn’t that large, and he seemed to go through a few a week sometimes.
But he was your best friend, your childhood friend, and no matter how many girls came crawling back to your lunch table, bawling to Shouto to take him back, soaking the fabric of your skirt to help convince him to take her back, you stayed. You stayed, accepting the fact that your best friend had become an awkward teenage boy and turned into some high school sex freak.
You stayed when his shaggy hairstyle was clipped and became short.
Overnight, just as he went from being a complete virgin to not one, he went from a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy to a leanly built eighteen-year-old hot-ass heartthrob womanizer.
High school wasn’t forever. Even though it took you about a year to accept and integrate Shouto’s new sex life and behavior into your daily lifestyle with him (he always left four of the three days open for you as all his relationships were casual only). Soon enough, the both of you relaxed and found your own relationship to be entirely the same, and when university exams and applications came about, it was decided that yet again, the both of you would follow each other anywhere.
Which is where you were now.
Tokyo University,  a third-year student, living in an upscale three-person apartment with your best friend, of course. Shouto plus someone who practically begged in the most unbegging way to live with you.
Todoroki Shouto and Shishikura Seiji in the same apartment as you made for an interesting combination.
You hadn’t wanted Shishikura Seiji as a roommate at all. Period. 
There were about eleven other people you only considered asking, but they all said no for their own reasons. Bakugou and Midoriya had found their own apartment closer to the University, and for much cheaper, Kirishima and Mina were RA’s and could not move in. Kaminari said he liked Sero’s couch too much to leave, and Sero couldn’t live in an apartment without a balcony. Momo said the room was too small, Jirou said she’d rather continue living with Momo, Uraraka said it was a tad bit too much for her to afford (to be fair, you didn’t have to pay because the Todoroki’s were paying for your housing, but you understood), Tsuyu and Hagakure said they were living at home. Iida said he would be too uncomfortable living with a couple.
Everyone you found on the street wouldn’t accept your offer. Hence, Shouto invited the meatball and rosé obsessed Shishikura Seiji to live with the two of you simply because he was Shouto’s lab partner in one of his advanced physics classes. Stupid chemical engineering nerd.
At twenty-one years, you can now say that you’ve entirely adjusted to Shouto’s womanizer ways. Too often do you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter, a steaming cup of tea in your hand as you drink it in slowly, watching with much amusement as either a no-name girl leaves or a walk of shame Shouto enters. It happens at most five times a week; you were used to it. While the unease had finally left, you had to admit you were impressed your best friend could easily sleep around as he did and maintain his outstanding grades.
However, just because you were finally used to Shouto’s womanizer tendencies didn’t mean the world was. Even in University, your fellow students would ask with wide eyes and behind flat palms if the two of you were dating — specifically if Shouto was cheating on you or if it was an open relationship. You would each and every time, smile cheekily, shake your head and say with a roll of your eyes: “No, we’re not dating. He’s not cheating, and no, this is nothing more than us being best friends. Sho is too much of a jealous person to allow for an open relationship.”
Somehow, the constant begging of approval and the erasure of any romantic connection between you and Shouto from the plethora of female students at Tokyo University wasn’t even the most annoying part of it all. No, not at all.
What really ground your nerves was a pattern you noticed when you were eighteen.
Unlike Shouto, you hadn’t had the chance to lose your virginity until you were eighteen. Most of the boys who liked you always assumed you and Shouto were dating, the ones who gathered the courage to ask you out anyways were boys you were less than impressed with. By some act of some higher god, your crush — the school's third-year baseball team's captain when you were a first-year — reappeared in your life and asked you out. It wasn’t your best decision, you can fully admit it, but he was friendly and sweet as he fucked you in his small bed.
You hadn’t expected sex to be like that, and if you had enjoyed this, you couldn’t help but wonder just how Shouto was in bed to have girls behaving like that.
However, the spell was broken when he helped you change back into your clothes, and he begged you not to tell Shouto he was the person you cheated on him with.
It was on this day that it clicked.
What went for him, unfortunately, went for you too.
Except where girls rose to the challenge to dethrone you from Shouto’s side (a shame because they were vying for a seat that you had no claim over), the boys lowered their head like some damn omega to Shouto’s alpha.
Disgusting.
Even with the plentiful, plethora, consistent denial of your relationship with Shouto, even with the tally of girls, Shouto’s bedded (and more excitedly, deflowered — ugh!) rose consistently, no one ever really believed you weren’t dating him! Too many a time, you had been centimeters from making out with a guy for them to pull away, screeching that they couldn’t allow you to betray Shouto. The men who didn’t care were sleezebags, and thus, with a growl and a snarl, you found that you were only able to fuck men who thought jackhammering their fingers into your labia — yes, your labia — would make you cum.
You didn’t want to say you hated your childhood best friend for such duplicitous, selfish reasons… but you did.
But today was Saturday, a few months into the new second semester of the school year, and with school spirit once again high and workload low. The entire campus was brimming with parties, celebrations, alcohol drinking competition, sleazy dancing, and enough sexual tension to kill all celibate people.
So, we look back to where we started.
Shishikura Seiji running away as you nestled back against Shouto’s chest.
“I didn’t think he was actually going to drink these things,” Shouto sighed, spinning the last few remaining drinks of his rosé in his hand. “It’s been in the fridge for almost five months.”
“He probably made his meatballs again and needed something terrible to blame the flavor on,” you half joke half say in complete seriousness. You were not fond of Shishikura at all, and he was not fond of you either. He had a tendency to mansplain everything, which continuously ground on your nerves, especially when he had no jurisdiction to act so confidently.
He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.
Fuck off.
“I feel sorta bad,” Shouto sighs, his hand low and warm on your waist. “But I will admit, these drinks are practically like carbonated water.”
“2% alcohol,” you stress, your grin widening as you pull away from his chest to stare at him. Your gaze is bright, and his eyes are filled with amusement. “You’re either the world's lightest lightweight or a child with no tolerance to actually expect to get drunk off this shit.”
“I think you’re slurring your words already though, you sure you’re okay, lightweight?” Shouto teases, his soft smirk teasing.
“Who was the one who took three shots and passed out?” you wonder innocently, finger to your chin as if you were trying to remember.
“At least I don’t throw up when I crossfade.”
“IT'S NOT MY FAULT. MY BIOLOGY JUST HAPPENS TO WORKS THAT WAY!”
“Alright, bitch,” Shouto snorts, completely unattractively, “hurry up and get ready, yeah? We have a party we’re already late to, and we have no drinks for an actual pregame.”
You squeal excitedly, having forgotten the massive party that was being held a few blocks away. “I’ll be ready in ten!”
Typically, when you went out partying, you went with the group of eleven people you would have rather replaced Shishikura as a roommate. To get ready for said parties, you would always find yourself at Momo’s place with an outfit change, makeup bag, and hair styling items. You had made it a tradition with the other girls to get ready together. The only exceptions to which this wouldn’t happen was when someone had a work event or some family thing come up.
In your case, you had been stuck at a professor's office, diligently helping to put together their research journal as they were in their final steps of publishing their findings. Due to your friendly relationship with your professor, the time had been lost, and your ten p.m. call time to arrive at Momo’s had been missed with a quick:
↳ held up at work! go on without me, sorry! see you at the party!!!!
When you crashed through the front door of your apartment, you froze, seeing Shouto in the hallway by the mirror. Sometime between getting his haircut to be shorter and from this day, he had begun to style his hair by threading it back by his fingers, and boy, it looked fucking good. He was already dressed up for the party. Black joggers, a white t-shirt that was a bit too small if the tight, seductive way it clung to his muscles spoke of anything, and a hoodie he had no care about in case he lost it after taking it off once getting there. Shouto was practically immune to all weather types, he could be in both snow or fire without a single worry, but he knew that a large sweatshirt that smelled like him was enough to hook and line any truly desperate female.
Shouto had chuckled, taking in your frazzled state with years of practice and nudged toward the fridge, already knowing that you had missed your pregaming with the girls.
“Shishikura has two rosés left. Grab ‘em, and we can pregame together.”
But that was all unimportant and already said.
In the end, it took you thirty minutes to get ready.
You had practically smeared on your makeup, hoping the warm, crazy miscoloring would be hidden within the crazy light show the party would definitely be displaying. Your outfit consisted of a tank top that exposed your cleavage and a skirt that hugged your legs and ass just right.
You came stumbling out of your room, fingers trying to shove on your earrings, the rings on your fingers clicking loudly against each other. You smiled breathily, gratefully accepting Shouto’s sweater as you slipped on your comfortable heels at the doorway before hurrying out.
Shouto kept an arm around your shoulder the entire way out, the immense heat of his body keeping you warm as his sweater rested lazily, awkwardly, around your shoulders and arms. You didn’t want to put it entirely on to save your makeup, and in case anyone had any fucking thing to say about the show you and Shouto were putting on. Eventually, the bright and comical conversation between you and Shouto began to grow louder as the pounding of dance music began to ring in your ears. Soon enough, you passed a few drunk people, more and more, until you reached the house where the party was.
Shoving the sweatshirt into Shouto’s chest, you grinned as the smell of alcohol, weed, over-cologne men and women, the faint smell of puke, and the gross crawl of BO flooded your nose.
Ah yes, nothing like a university party.
Shouto laughs at your evident piqued excitement, and after he pulls on the light blue sweatshirt, he grabs your hand, and into the overcrowded home you go.
The intense heat of overcrowded bodies on a dance floor that also makes up a drinking game floor makes you grateful for your choice of clothes. Everyone around you is already drunk, sloshed, intoxicated off their ass as unknown drinks spill from their red Solo cups, sometimes even raining down on you. You grimace as Shouto continues to pull you through. You can taste the Hennesy on your upper lip and somehow know that whoever was drinking it was a freshman with a vendetta to kill his liver and love for drinking before coming of legal age.
“What do you want to drink?” Shouto yells over the nearly obnoxiously loud music. He has his sight on the drinks counter. “Mixed or the juice?”
“Fuck me up with the jungle juice!” you yell right back, pressing to his side as two dancing (see, vigorously dry-humping) nearly trample on top of you. “Parties are meant to be a non-sober event. I need to be borderline blacked out five hours ago!”
The agreeing chuckle from Shouto isn’t heard by you at all, but you can feel his chest give a familiar vibration as finally, he pulls you from the sea of bodies to where the floor is especially wet and sticky. You’ve reached the bar area.
Grabbing your own red Solo Cup, you watch as Shouto makes his own drink. Heavy on the alcohol, light on the mixer, and a good handful of ice (he’s always liked the cold better). His hand reaches for your cup and you offer your cup up as he opens up an ice chest filled with neon-colored jungle juice.
When the drink is returned to you, the both of you cheers and take a long drink.
“Y/N!”
“Y/N-CHAN!”
“You’re finally here, you fucking slut! Getcha fat ass over here now!”
Your neck is twisted to see the absolutely plastered group of girls you considered to be your closest friends, and you laugh loudly.
“Seems like I’m needed,” you yell at Shouto, trying your best to act nonchalantly as he smiles knowingly at you. “Text me about what you decide to do if we don’t see each other?”
“Of course,” he simply responds before placing the curve of his cup back onto his lip as hands grabbed your arms and whisked you away.
In a matter of sixty minutes, you all had played five drinking games.
The girls felt it was imperative to get you to their level right away, so they started off with a game of King’s Cup. Not only was the deck rigged against you — you pulled all four of the four cards and thus had to chug four times — but you had drawn the last King and drank some weird concoction of jungle juice, a tequila shot, a vodka shot, and whatever the fucking hell Mina was drinking. How you managed to chug that and stay on your feet was beyond you, but it was without saying that you had utterly and inevitably caught up with the girls.
After the King's Cup came the Flip Cup game, your team won thankfully due to Mina’s one flip wonder as Kaminari struggled to down the shot in the cup.
After Flip Cup came Smoke or Fire, a game that had Tsuyu stuck on the bus for a record-breaking one round. No one could believe she did that.
Then came a round of Shot Roulette to end with what you were currently doing now, using a drinking card game Momo had made in her spare time to do embarrassing things at random.
Five games in an hour… you questioned if there was by any chance illegal substances in the jungle juice because it had felt like a whopping two minutes.
“It’s midnight!” Hagakure hollered, stumbling backward as she grinned in drunken, stupid happiness. She giggled before singing, “Midnight… memoriessss~!”
Mina groaned at the reference but completely perked up as the dance music changed suddenly from its slightly mellow, good vibe song to none other than Everytime We Touch by Cascada. By tradition, by applicable law by all and every god, when this one song played, everyone needed to stop what they were doing and immediately head to the dance floor.
With your hand slightly sticky with alcohol, and your mind absolutely clouded with alcohol, you whooped loudly as Mina dragged you to the dancefloor. 
You, seven girls, formed a closed circle, your Solo cups sloshing over with alcohol, and your faces scrunched tight as you danced and sang as loudly as you could. Each pounding beat of music vibrated in your chest, each offkey note sung by the party-goers making you feel light, happy, dizzy, and oh so perfectly drunk. For just a split moment, you lock eyes with Shouto, who’s across the dance floor, his arms wrapped around some girl you don’t recognize, eyes drinking you in. You smile for a bit before turning back around, arms rocketing up to the air with your excitement.
Although the song ended, the DJ continued to play bangers, and you never once stopped in your mirthful dancing and grinding against your friends as the night continued to carry on. But when you spun out from Mina, your entire world spinning with it, a pair of warm, heavy, large hands rested on your waist, and you laughed.
“Who is this?” you ask, head slamming backward to try and look at the person who had caught you yet hadn’t tried grinding against you. “Oh, Inasa? Hi!”
Yoarashi Inasa was one of your University's well-known jocks. He was a skilled runner, one of the best Japan has ever seen despite his body type telling you he was a bodybuilder. Immediately your smile of idiotic stupor became intentful, seductive, still bordering extreme intoxication. Was Inasa your type? No, not really, but you could reasonably and accurately say that he was a handsome man, with a fantastic body, not to mention a pleasant personality.
You also itched to know what his dick looked like.
This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.
“Hi, y/l/n,” Inasa said, his naturally loud voice easily picked up on despite the music being blasted in your ear. “How’s your night going?”
You lick your dry lips, eyes blinking a few times before you turn in his arms, your arms stretching so that you could wrap them around his neck. “Better now that you’re here,” you smile shyly. “How’s yours.”
“Ahem,” Inasa blushes, his eyes staring straight at your cleavage before looking back up at you. “H-Hoping to get better from here! Well, I’m sure it will be.”
“Oh?” you ask, your confidence building faster and faster as you press further against him. “Anything you have in mind?” —you press your thigh suggestively against the semi-hard spot against his jeans. — “Anyway... I can... help?”
Inasa groans deep in his chest, his head knocking backward at your implications, the pleasant vibrations passing on to you. You grin, fingers scraping against the bottom of his buzzcut and bringing him closer, praying for a kiss. But as he returns his head back down, his gaze leaves yours for a split second, and you watch in horror as a sobering look washes over him.
“Actually… you’re here with some random dude, right? I don’t want to step on his toes. I thought I saw you come in with some guy; sorry y/l/n, I can’t do this.”
And just as quickly as he was against you, he was gone.
It took everything in you not to screech bloody murder over the fact that you were once again left horny with no man to take responsibility for it.
Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party With Shouto: 78% Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party Without Shouto: 22%
Walking home alone, cold, and with extreme bitterness towards Yoarashi Inasa was a sadly sobering experience. By the time you collapsed onto your bed, you were only slightly buzzed, boarding sobriety while not being sober exactly.
Fuck men.
Fuck their cowardness over a nonexistent romantic/sexual relationship between you and Shouto.
But also… you really wanted to fuck men right now.
The slicked horniness of the potential thought of bedding Inasa had made its unignorable appearance via your soaked panties. You hated yourself, hated your biological needs and lusts.
“I’ll wring Shouto’s neck in front of all of them next time,” you grumble to yourself. “Stage a fake breakup for an imaginary thing…”
Nestling further into your pillows, your eyes closed, body relaxing against the bed when a peculiar sound seemed to echo in your ear.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Your eyes slammed open, your jaw-dropping at the very obvious, entirely embarrassing sound of Shouto having sex on his desk sounded in your room! Of course it sounded in your room. His desk was pressed to your wall because that would mean whenever he was his icky womanizer self, you wouldn’t have to hear anything! Your rooms were soundproof but apparently not movement proof.
The thwack of the wood desk slammed against the wall, and with your ear so close to the wall, you began to hear the shaky, intense breathing of Shouto. The whines, keens, and screams of the girl he was fucking as she begged for more. Sobbing that his cock was too much for her.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Your panties soaked even more, and with a brain that somehow retracted back into its state of stupor, your fingers brushed against your swollen, ready clit.
This was wrong, so very, very wrong, you thought, the sounds of pitched whining against the stupidly impressive, steady, consistent fucking.
Your mind was a drunken fever. 
Your eyes closed not all the way, yet blind to the wall before you as your finger danced and teased against your demanding clit.
You whined softly, matching the groaning of Shouto, who banged something other than the desk into the wall.
For a moment, just this once, you wanted to be the one desperately clinging to Shouto’s back, hips snapping and circling in tandem to his, allowing him to drill his cock deep within you. Your back arched, heat reaching your toes, buzzing filling your lips.
“Yes, fuck, right there, Todoroki!” the girl screamed, begged, and prayed. “Oh my god, yes, yes yes, right there, right the— mmph!”
You find your teeth sinking into your fist, trying to keep your pounding, horny induced brain from crying out. You wanted to know what he was doing to her, if he had kissed her silent, shoved his fingers in her mouth. Maybe he had fucked her so good she couldn’t possibly say more.
There is nothing from Shouto you can hear, no noises of praise, nothing except the occasional ragged breath that seems to permeate through the walls and whisper sweetly, teasingly, like a succumbs in your ear.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
It increases, in noise, the wall separating your room from his beginning to rattle, shake in his conquest.
Your fingers are wet, entirely slippery with your conquest, your hips thrashing against your touch, clinging to a phantom memory of the last male you had managed to fuck. Then, as your stomach trembles with the orgasm that's mere seconds from blessing you with a release, you hear him—Shouto.
“Fuck.”
It’s not much. If anything, this girl should be so embarrassed she hasn’t been able to elicit a loud response from Shouto, but it’s a verbal gift from heaven above for you. His voice, tight, husky, drenched with a driving lust, whispers to you and only you, wrapping you in this blanket of solitude and need. 
With your back arching from the mattress, your hips leaving the soft surface, and your jaw growing slack, your moan is silent, unheard by no one but the heavens as you cum. Heat floods throughout your entire body, tickling and twirling in you until you can’t do anything but shudder, shaking as you fall back down on your bed, dizzy and completely satisfied. 
You don’t think about it.
Don’t try to unpack just what happened right now because the reality that you had just masturbated to the sound of your childhood best friend fucking some random girl is a bit too much. Even for you.
So you don’t think about it, and soon the thudding of the desk on the wall is nothing but a drumming lullaby, and sleep consumes you.
When you wake up, you don’t remember what you did.
You get up and trudge to the bathroom, your party clothes abandoned completely so that you’re wearing nothing but a large shirt you had stolen from Shouto years ago. You scratch your belly as you walk into the bathroom, eyes caked with your sleep still as you begin brushing your teeth.
As you brush your teeth, you begin to take off last night's makeup — well, whatever remained of it.
Spitting out the last foamy remains of the paste from your mouth, you rinsed your mouth before washing your skin. You looked much more awake now. Slapping your cheeks in an encouraging, ‘im a functional human adult taking part in some random face wash commercial,’ you exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen. 
Shishikura was already in the kitchen, his face expressionless, entirely dead to the world as he scooped some rice into a bowl and topped it off with some eggs.
“Morning,” you yawn, arms stretching over your head as you near closer to your unwanted roommate.
Shishikura sneers at you, but even he was more polite in the morning, sometimes.
“I heard the both of you get back last night,” Shishikura mocked, slamming the lid to his rice cooker with an unimpressed scowl. “You were thirty minutes apart. You know, if you two still want to be partying like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, do it respectfully.”
Your smile back at him is as fake as he is, and you refuse to move out of the way as he tries to walk back to his room. He growls — gross? — and sidesteps you, grumbling the entire way back to his room as you roll your eyes at his retreating form.
What a child.
You entered the kitchen, fixing up your own things for breakfast.
Kettle brewing hot water for tea, rice cooker on for your own rice (you make enough for Shouto too), and you begin cooking some ham and eggs, readying yourself for a Sunday for going to the library and studying. You hummed to yourself, your phone plugged into the speaker as your music filled the quiet morning air.
You bobbed your head in rhythm with the music, your eyes concentrating on slowly cooking eggs as you poured the hot water from your kettle into the teacup. As you placed your teabag in, you looked up to the sound of a creaking door and grinned wickedly as a girl with light blue hair walked out of the hall you and Shouto’s room were in.
Her dress was rumbled, a few blooming red and purple marks sitting prettily on her collarbone, and her face flushed red as she began to scurry out.
“Bye!” you call out, laughing at the scared eep from the girl and the disgruntled groan from Shouto’s room.
You set down your tea, flipping the eggs in the pan as you heard more shuffling before finally, Shouto made his appearance. He was in nothing but grey sweatpants that sat so low on his waist you could not only see the band of his boxer-briefs, but you were entirely aware of the v-lines, the abs, the pecs, and the small happy trail from his belly button down. You also noted that there was not a single mark on his body, and you wondered if he had ever taken a single mark from a one-night fuck before.
God really cursed you with an objectively attractive best friend, huh.
“Morning, slut,” you sing, noticing with happiness that your rice cooker sang a merry tune, indicating that the rice was done. “Breakfast?”
“Mm,” Shouto grumbled, his hands rubbing his face as he trudged closer to the kitchen, taking a spot on one of the stools. “Depends. Did you make it?”
“...I always make it.”
“I think I like Shishikura’s breakfast better.”
Silence.
You glare at Shouto, and in turn, his lips press to a comfortable, teasing smile.
“Fend for your damn self then.”
Shouto laughed loudly as you began to stubbornly fix yourself a bowl of both your servings. You ate far less than he did, but still enough to fill you until after three pm, so the size of your bowl was hysterical. 
“You’re such a horrible wife-roommate,” Shouto accuses, standing up from the stool and entering the kitchen to try and persuade you otherwise to give him his own food. “And here I thought that you liked cooking for me.”
“Go tell your stupid wife-roommate Shishikura instead,” you cry loudly, the faux sniffles from you stupidly fake as you begin to shovel a mouthful of rice and eggs into your mouth. “I’m shwure you’chll beh happ t’gther!”
“That’s absolutely disgusting, y/l/n,” Shouto accuses, his nose scrunching as he traps you in his arms, mouth trying to intercept the food moving from your bowl and into your mouth. 
With another desire to prove how unsatisfied in your roommate-marriage you were, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue full of uneaten, partially chewed rice.
“Ea’ eh!” you mocked, your grin growing as Shouto’s initial instinct was to whip his head away from you.
But as always, because Shouto enjoyed being incredibly annoying, he went after your tongue, readying to eat the chewed-up food off your very tongue. 
Eventually, you gave Shouto back his part of the breakfast, laughing as the both of you chatted about who was going to repay Shishikura for the used rosés. Neither one of you could decide, and so it was something to be solved later. Noon, however, came and with a nod, you accepted Shouto’s hug goodbye, to which you twisted his nose triumphantly as you waddled out of the front door, clothed in your winter gear, textbooks, and laptop,
It was time to brave the world and get this paper done.
“Mina, I mean… absolutely no offense when I say this, but it still shocks me every time you say you’re a chemistry major. You just seem so…”
“Dumb?”
“Yeah.”
“You gotta be some kind of stupid to willingly take inorganic chem,” Mina laughed, balancing her textbooks on her head as the both of you climbed the stairwell to the library’s study rooms. “That's why I have the dance minor! Best of both worlds!”
“Could never forget about that,” you laughed as the both of you neared the top of the stairwell.
You didn’t mean to notice him. As a matter of fact, most of your failed conquests at parties never amounted to much anger from you, but seeing Inasa from across the way, his face buried in some aerodynamics textbook, anger boiled in you. On the way to meeting with Mina, you had realized your mistake last night and how you wouldn’t have made said mistake if it hadn’t been for Inasa! You could’ve been dicked down, slammed against your bed and wall as the giant of a man fucked you!
“I’ll be right back,” you sneered, eyes narrowing as you passed your textbook to Mina.
With fire following in ever long, powerful stride, you blinked and immediately found yourself before Inasa.
“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”
Inasa reacted as if you had shot him, his knees coming up to hit the table, his body knocking backward, and he tumbled, crashing to the floor as you watched with a gaping mouth.
“Y-Y/L/N!” Inasa shouted, his face going through half a billion emotions before settling in anxiety-filled fear. You watched, horrified yourself, as he swung to his knees, his head crashing to the floor as he began apologizing to you. “GOODMORNING, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!”
“Pipe it down, Inasa!” you hiss, your cheeks flooding with embarrassed heat as you garnered the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to talk!”
“Aha, yes, of course!” Inasa laughs, a full belly laugh. He sits up and you freeze seeing the bloodied cut on his forehead. He stands up, completely unaffected by the gash on his forehead, and uprights his chair before sitting comfortably. “How can I help you?”
“What happened to you last night?” you try again, eyebrow raised, arms crossed definitely and awkwardly because yeah… you were confronting a guy who didn't want to sleep with you. “You were into me and then suddenly wasn’t.”
Inasa laughs more, although nothing you said, implied, or did was even remotely funny.
Irritation runs through your veins.
“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.
“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”
“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.
You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.
Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?
“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”
“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”
“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”
“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.
“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”
Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.
“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”
Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”
Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.
Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.
Once he left, you felt light again.
Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.
Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.
“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”
“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”
“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”
“What?” he snaps.
“What the fuck is your problem?!”
“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”
Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”
“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.
“You are too!”
“When am I ever?”
“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”
“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”
“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”
“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!” 
“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”
“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”
“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”
The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.
“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.
“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”
“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.
“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”
His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.
“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”
It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.
Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.
Your friends had noticed immediately.
The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.
You could care less right now.
You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!
But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.
Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.
“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.
“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider. 
Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.
“Fine.”
How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.
“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”
Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.
“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”
“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”
You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.
Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.
“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.
Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.
“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”
“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”
Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.
“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.
The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.
“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”
-
As time does, it moves forward.
It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.
“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.
For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.
That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.
But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.
For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.
From two days to five.
It was weird.
You felt almost empty.
So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.
“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”
“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.
“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”
Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.
You grin.
“Obviously.”
And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.
“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.
“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.
“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”
“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”
“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”
“Um, to make everlasting mem—”
“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”
“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”
“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”
You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.
You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.
But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.
Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?
Why didn’t he just try to corner you?
Why did you care that he didn’t?
He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.
It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!
But why did you?
Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.
You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.
You were in love with him.
You loved Shouto.
Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.
In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.
You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.
The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.
“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.
Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.
The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.
You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.
“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.
Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.
“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.
“Hm?”
Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.
Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.
“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”
“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”
“Anything for you, darling.”
With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.
The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.
It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.
“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.
“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.
“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”
You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.
“What?”
“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”
His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.
“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”
“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”
Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.
After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.
Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!
Let him fuck another woman in front of you?
You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.
“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”
You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.
“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.
But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.
It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.
It seemed frat parties were one of them.
However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.
The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.
As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.
His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.
It was slow.
Sensual.
Somehow familiar.
Absolutely mind-numbing.
His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.
He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.
Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.
But even as your world froze, the music continued on.
Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.
He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.
Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.
It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.
His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.
“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.
“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.
“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”
“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.
It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.
You were breathless.
No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.
This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.
He kissed you.
He wanted you.
He said he needed you.
Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.
He needed you.
Just you.
Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.
With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.
Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.
“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.
Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.
Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.
“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”
“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”
And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.
“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”
“Y/n—”
“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”
His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.
It was dizzying to have him on you like this.
For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.
“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.
His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.
It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.
Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.
“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.
The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.
“Mine.”
You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.
“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.
“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”
Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.
“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”
Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.
“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.
It takes your breath away.
Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.
The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.
Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.
Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”
Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.
“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”
You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.
“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”
“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”
Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.
“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.
“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”
Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.
But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.
His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.
Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.
In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.
From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.
“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.
“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”
You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.
His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.
You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.
And Shouto?
Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.
You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.
“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.
The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.
Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.
Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.
“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”
With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.
“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”
You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.
Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.
“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.
“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”
The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.
You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”
“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”
With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”
Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”
The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.
Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.
Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”
You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.
“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”
You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.
“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”
Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.
His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.
He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.
“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”
You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.
“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”
His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.
“More, more, more!”
And he gives, and gives, and gives.
You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.
Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.
Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.
“Fuck,” he says.
“Right?” you chuckle.
And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.
P R E S E N T
To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.
“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.
“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”
“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”
“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.
It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.
“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”
Now that shocks you.
Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.
“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”
“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”
“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”
“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.
“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”
“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto’s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”
“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”
“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.
He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.
“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”
“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”
Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.
“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”
“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Apologize then.”
“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”
You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.
“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”
“Crybaby?”
“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”
If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.
One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.
Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.
Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.
Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.
Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.
Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.
Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.
Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.
To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.
The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.
But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.
Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.
No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.
It was intimate, romantic even.
Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.
Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.
You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.
Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.
“Hey, is that a water gun?!”
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lea-andres · 2 years ago
Text
Oh, so when @mightourge told me about their neon noire, mortals and demons, dark mystery AU, I did what I usually do when I hear about an excellent AU, which is I hold up Bugbear and go "Where do we cram this?" 😂
Here's the original post:
And under the Read More is the BugBear appearance! Same warnings as the original post apply, murder, demons, etc.
So while Mighty and Scourge investigate the murders, they eventually begin to hear rumors that a mortal actually survived an attack from the demon that's going around murdering mortals. This is their first witness that lived to (hopefully) tell the tale, so they look into it further. They can't find out anything about the mortal, but they learn how she survived: rumor has it the Werebear Bark rescued her from her gruesome fate. Scourge has heard of Bark, and the vampire Fang and the fae Bean he hangs out with, and attempts to talk Mighty down from trying to talk to them. They're useless at best, and dangerous at worst. But, Mighty insisted. This was their only big lead.
Team Hooligan was feeling useless today. Bark in particular wasn't talking. Not only is he still prone to mutism in this AU, he didn't want to tell anyone about the mortal he'd rescued. She'd already almost gotten killed by one demon, and he wasn't about to send another demon he didn't know her way.
While Fang and Bean also refused to tell them where the mortal was, they did learn why Bark wasn't willing to help. Bark was very... close with this mortal. They were good friends before the attack, then had gotten into a relationship after Bark rescued her! As you can probably guess, mortals and demons getting together is unusual, and highly frowned upon by most people in both groups. Bean's supportive of Bark's choice of mate, Fang's VERY vocal about his disapproval, but hey, YOU tell a Werebear he can't be with his mate. See how that works out for you.
Anyway, through some hilarious misunderstanding shenanigans, Bark mistakens Mighty and Scourge for another mortal and demon couple, and finally agrees to take them to speak to his mate. After all, another demon in a relationship with a mortal wouldn't kill HIS mortal partner, right? Despite their embarrassment, Mighty and Scourge agree it's best to play along. Totally just for the case. That's all. 😏
Anyway, so I've dragged it out long enough. Bark's mortal mate is OBVIOUSLY Jewel, LOL. She's been laying low at her friend Tangle's (and her girlfriend Whisper) place until the murderer gets caught. Tangle's another mortal, as is Whisper, but she's a bit more... unique. To the horror of all the demons (except for Bark, who already knew this), Whisper's a demon hunter. Her mask allows her to see a demon's true form, her weaponry's specifically to fight demons, all that stuff. But, she quickly reassures everyone, she's hunting a specific demon, and no one here is THAT demon.
Watching Jewel and Bark interact was starting to give Scourge a little hope about him and Mighty. If this tiny, kinda skiddish beetle could fall in love with this massive, terrifying looking werebear... Maybe... Just maybe...
Anyway, so Mighty asks Jewel about what happened to her. She explains how she was coming home from visiting Tangle and Whisper, and as she was getting her keys out to unlock her door when a smoky, shadowy thing rose up out of the shadows and lunged for her throat. Jewel didn't get a great look at the creature, it was too dark, unfortunately, but she recalled bright green eyes like a lizard... And the thing had no mouth.
Bark had exploded out of a nearby alleyway at that point (he confessed later he'd been tailing Jewel whenever she went out at night, and keeping watch over her place, just in case the demon murdering the mortals came for her), and fought the creature off at that point. He'd gotten clawed by the demon, but werebeasts are very hardy and can tank through injuries like that. Jewel had insisted on treating his wounds after that. And Bark made Jewel promise she'd stay with Tangle and Whisper until the demon was caught.
So both Team Hooligan and Team Sapphire are helping Mighty and Scourge now! Huzzah! Poor guys, those are mostly dead weight LOL.
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jelliegirl · 2 years ago
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20, 21, 32, 36, 55 for any or all characters... 👀
ooooo ill just pick random character(s) that speak to me for each question hehe
20. which of the five senses do they rely the most on? lasha: smell, of the sea and trees and moss and dirt and campfires and leather and singed clothes and the smell of food cooked by her friends
21. do they follow their head, their heart, or their body? him: heart billy: body neon: head
32. do they seek control, or do they want less of it? solvin: solvin wants to feel like he has control over one thing that's happened to him, and to punish umberlee for controlling him every moment before he kills her. he doesn't care if he and everyone else dies in the process as long as he gets to have one moment of control.
36. what’s a secret they’ve kept? him: he and his friends unleashed an ancient world-ending being from a tomb and they were basically just like "oopsies" and fucked off to clear thei own names as a murderers instead of like. dealing with that.
55. whose hand do they reach out for? him: nat and kitty neon: anyone poor son of a bitch who needs them lasha: arahana and yuri and eden and her dumb little brother who won't take her hand back billy: violence and junior, skunk and vince but there's a button that makes a fart noise in his palm for them solvin: the hand that feeds him so he can bite it
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kaissauce · 3 years ago
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okay, phucker, do it
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ok let's do this @rolli-zolli @ninikins
Horrortale: technically an alternate timeline instead of au. after a neutral run where undyne's queen the core malfunctions and food becomes scarce and people resort to eating humans because sans suggested it. Aliza is the protag. latest thing that happened in the ongoing comic was Aliza agreeing to go with Papyrus to solve his last puzzle. as for the appearance of sans he has a HUGE hole on his head and a red eye. he got the hole from undyne when she got his magic eye which was going to be used to power the core. sans didnt die tho and killed the guards holding him down and just took whatever eye was on the ground and used it as a replacement for his magic eye that's powering the core. i quote first words he said after putting the eye in his socket "who the fuck took my phone?". then the magic eye went apeshit and broke the core again. oh and also he made alphys braindead by quite literally scrambling her brain. yeah this au is rough sans hasn't really eaten anything since the core was destroyed since he decided not to eat any humans.
Dusttale: i think this was originally a korean au? basic rundown: too many genocide runs sans goes apeshit and tries to get his Lv up by killing monsters himself man went fuckin insane kills his brother blah blah blah edgy angsty au the ghost of papyrus haunts him n stuff. sans literally just looks the same except he has his hood on and sometimes artists draw him with papyrus's scarf. the cool artists draw him with his hood on and has the hood completely cover his face so u can only see his glowing pupils. although people call him dust sans he's actually named murder sans
Killer: so frickin similar to dusttale except sans goes apeshit because of the human being like "join me lmao". three different outcomes come from this. i think it was 1 sans joins human 2 sans joins human kills human later on 3 kills human or something. friends with color sans who is basically his impulse control. pretty sure his soul's fucked up and Color sans tries to make his soul un-fucked but Nightmare comes in and fucks up the progress. he has white shorts, his eye sockets are constantly pitch black and leaking tar or something also has a weird target thingy on his chest. OH YEAH ALSO HE HAS BEEF WITH UNDERSWAP SANS ALMOST FORGOT. basically swap sans tried to make killer good and then they had a fight, swap sans lost and was on the verge of dying thankfully swap papyrus was able to save him in time i think
Dreamtale: Dream isn't in the drawing but his brother, Nightmare is. Sooo he used to not look all goooy and have tentacles n stuff but then he ate a couple hundred apples and yeah. he's six years old apparently. Nightmare and Dream are supposed to be guardians of a tree that has 500 golden apples and 500 black n goopy apples. the golden aples are positive and the goop ones are negative. you're not supposed to eat either of them cus bad shit happens. Dream and Nightmare live in a village and for whatever reason they're all dicks to Nightmare because ooughh he's the guardian of negativity that's not baller. he also goes apeshit (do u see a pattern here) and eats a goopy apple n then becomes the goop man he is today. he fuckin eats 999 apples jesus christ. and the last one is eaten by Dream because if u eat all 1000 apples u become unstoppable and immortal. so that would be a bad thing if nightmare got the last one. wop wop wop these dude aren't sanses they only have the body of one if that makes sanse.
Error: manlet. he's literally an error and that's why he's like that. also he's technically not a sans now, the redesign for him was so that he could be in the creator's webcomic named Lucidia. Error sans, aka the destroyer of aus, finds aus to be mistakes so he tries to get rid of them. his process of doing this is simple: get the human soul to the void so that they can't reset, destroy the au. he primarily attacks using his strings which can wrap around one's soul and control them. he like some aus like outertale because of how open and empty it is. he likes to be alone and has haphephobia. if u touch him he'll glitch out and possibly crash. he crashes whenever gets overwhelmed. said crashing causes him to shut down and reboot and he's powerless while doing so. he's actually pretty easy to beat if you know how to push his buttons the right way. in the og ask error blog made by his creator Loverofpiggies he kidnaps Swap sans who tries to help Error become a better person. this ends horribly as error leaves Swap sans in the void who then becomes an error aswell due to being alone in the void too long. Error actually regrets doing that to swap sans
Aftertale: OK FUN FACT THE SANS OF THIS AU, WHO'S NICKNAMED "Geno" IS ERROR. aftertale is a comic made by LoverofPiggies it's been SOOOO long since i last read it so i cant really give a good summary. but anyways Geno is trapped in the loading screen with the human and will die if he leaves the loading screen. eventually from being in the loading screen for too long after the events of aftertale he becomes Error.
OOF WOWIE THERE'S SO MUCH TO GO
Underfresh: he's not even a sans either. "Fresh" is a parasite inhabiting a skeleton. his birthday is on 4/20 which is ironic cus he doesn't like drugs. he censors swears. he speaks 90's lingo and dresses like a neon sign. for some reason he has eyebrows and a gold tooth. the glasses he has can change text but normally defaults to "YOLO". he can't feel anything since he has no soul of his own and just latches onto the host's. instead he learns how to act from the people around him. not being able to feel actually bothers him a LOT
Echotale: Aka Gaster sans. uhhh this one was also a comic if i remember correctly. basically Frisk and G!Sans are the only ones in the au and they're trying to find the core to fix the fucked up timeline that they're in but the core keeps changing positions so that sucks.
Swapfell: originally made by Khhoppang who left social media. Started out as an Alphys x Undyne au so only those two were designed but Kh was planning to design more of the characters. before they could people had a field day with the idea of mashing two aus together and SO many people came up with their own designs for sans and papyrus. Khhoppang left social media because they got overwhelmed with all the art reposters and stuff, pretty sad. the appearance of the sans in that au is the purple one with a scythe (i dont think he has a scythe in the og design).
Swapfell Red: so basically this is the swapfell made by people that isn't Khhoppang. community made per se. Sans's appearance changes constantly because as said before many people made many different designs. typically he just looks like Swap sans but with red high heel boots and his color scheme fits underfell
Fellswap (gold): Au made by blackggggum. so swapfell is underswap turned fell, fell swap is underfell swapped it takes a bit to understand that. his appearance is somewhat similar to Swapfell red. He's kind to his friends but if ur his enemy he'll fucking deck you. he's blind in his left eye, the leader of the royal guard, and secretly into dressmaking. fun fact in this au Papyrus has autism
Xtale: uuuuhhhh so Cross is a complicated one. he's part of the royal guard along with papyrus. has beef with xgaster. responsible for the downfall of his au and then Underverse happens and Ink is all "oh cool someone to mess with" and they became friends for a bit then shit hit the fan
Underfell: OOOOO YES UNIRONICALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITES. So Underfell sans is actually a very powerful mf and constantly has his magic eye activated because he has so much magic. This au is also technically an alternate timeline where monsters "lost their humanity" as the creator put it. so basically trust in the underground is scarce. Sans and papyrus, contrary to many interpretations i fucking hate, are actually on good terms (and no sans doesn't call papyrus "boss" the creator said if he does he'd do it ironically and papyrus would hate it). Fun facts he pays Grillby in socks (grillby accepts the socks as payment and wears them), if u make grillby laugh he gives u a jacket that looks like his and it's heavily implied that sans made him laugh because their jackets are similar
Underswap: ah yes another classic that i love as well. originally made by PopcornPr1nce who fled social media because they hated how the majority fandom treated Underswap (Blueberry and Carrot were popular names for the fanon swap papyrus and sans). Swap sans is constantly infantilized by the community which sucks and i hate it so i draw my own very super cool version of him whom i kin because i am also very super cool.
Outertale: mainly an aesthetic au pretty sure there's no comic of it. basically, instead of underground they in space. outer sans dies in underverse after like minutes of screentime lmao
Epictale: a comic made by Yugogeer. the og comic was retconned and the creator loathes the original version and made a reboot that's much better. Sans actually dies very early in it because Yugo hates how Sans is almost always focused on in aus. also the creator hates how meme-y their sans has become (like him saying bruh every single sentence, using a rubber chicken as a weapon, cookies, etc.) he's friends with Cross but not in canon. He has a purple magic eye that makes him immortal and i think only epic gaster could remove it which is how sans was able to be killed when he fought gaster.
Temmietale: it's undertale but everyone is temmie, don't question it
Trainertale: it's undertale but it's Pokemon, don't question it
Dancetale: it's undertale but you dance instead of fight, don't
Mobtale/Mafiatale: im unsure if mobtale and mafiatale are separate or not but they are very similar. basically undertale but mafia it's self explanatory
Undertale: no clue which au is this one, nope not at all/j
Bittytale or whatever idk: so take sans, make him small. boom. never understood this au
THAT BASTARD INK: HOOO BOY SAVED THE WORST FOR LAST. FUCK THIS GUY/j. THIS DUDE. IS THE REASON IM STILL INTO UNDERTALE AUS. I LOVE EM SO MUCH. also technically not a sans. He comes from an unfinished au and ripped his own soul to escape said au and became an outcode. for so long he was just a soulless husk until someone drew him and he got splashed with paint which let him feel. soon he learned to keep the paint in vials so that he can be able to feel 24/7. And then he learned how to create things with a paintbrush and the paint and spent time alone drawing up his own world until a portal appeared and took him to the multiverse. now he encourages artists to keep creating aus. he's the protector of aus in the sense that he keeps other outcodes from disrupting the script of the au, so if it's pacifist and an outcode tries to kill people he'd stop them, if it's genocide and an outcode tried to help them he'd stop them. no matter what he wants the au to stay on script. fun fact the creator of ink and the creator of error never had them interact with each other in canon, that was all the fandom's doing. Contrary to popular belief he's not really considered "good" his alignment is officially "Chaotic neutral". I personally interpret him a lot more chaotic than in canon because it's fun but he's a pretty chill guy actually. he can just be a bit of an ass sometimes. According to the creator of Ink (who is Comyet) his interpretation in Underverse is not canon compliant. one of the biggest canon things that underverse contradicts is Ink deliberately not taking his vials. if he were to do that in canon he'd become a husk again which is the equivalent of him "dying". he was described as a walking corpse by Comyet, without the vials he can't function anymore. Like Error he's pretty easy to beat if you know his weaknesses. also he has fears of empty spaces and being alone
off topic kinda but i very much love how Error and Ink are opposites yet parallel even though they were completely written without the other in mind. Error believes getting rid of aus is getting rid of anomalies. Ink believes people interfering with aus are anomalies. Error loves emptiness, Ink hates emptiness. list goes on it's funky fresh.
also uhhh sanses missing from that drawing that i can name from the top of my head
Seraphim sans, Insans, Dusttrust, He who shall not be named because he's from an 18+ au, Swapswap (yes. that exists), Storyshift, Inverted Fate (very good au i suggest checking it out), Negatale, Oceantale, Template, Pale, Mafiafell, Farmtale
my phone is at 9% y'all are spared from me going on
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brokenjardaantech · 4 years ago
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Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 1: Beginnings, never expected)
my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang​. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.
chapter summary:
In the past, Sara schemed.
In the present, Connor meets Hank for the first time.
In the past, someone called.
also on ao3
---
Before
Family was instructed to wait outside the room during the final check-up, so she complied and made a call while keeping an eye on the doctors and nurses in charge of her brother; they were much better than the ones in the previous hospital with a far gentler touch and humane approach, but she had had enough people snitching on her, and, after tapping the glass to gouge its integrity, she would not hesitate to flare up and use her powers to break down everything standing between her and her only sibling.
The door to the outer room opened to admit another woman holding a phone, and both of them hung up the call once they saw each other. The new visitor closed the distance between them and moved as if wanting to give the sister a hug, but her arms lowered upon seeing the tension in the sister’s body.
‘Not now,’ she said. ‘Do not celebrate yet.’
‘And neither will being on guard every single second bring you any good, Sara,’ the visitor replied. ‘It will only hurt you and cloud your judgement.’
‘There is no other acceptable opinion,’ the sister - Sara - pressed her thumb against the bottom of the glass. ‘My father tried to send my brother to a boarding school despite fully knowing that they can’t accommodate for his needs, my brother said no, my father forced him to, my brother would rather die than be sent to a hostile environment, and I got him away from our father. I saved him, Amanda, but with my father’s resources, do you really think there’s a place in the country where we won’t be hunted down? So no,’ she shoved the hand into her pocket, leaving a burn mark in the shape of her thumb behind on the glass, ‘I am not relaxing until we have disappeared off the face of earth for good.’
‘It’s hardly a viable plan for us, Sara,’ there was resignation in Amanda’s voice. ‘My guardianship isn’t secure. Scott requires constant medical attention. I know you look highly upon me, but I’m not invincible. Against people like your father…’
Sara raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘And you don’t think I have a plan already?’
Amanda turned her head to take a good look at her student. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ she said at last. ‘It isn’t that I don’t have faith in your abilities, it’s just -’
The door to Scott’s room opened. All medical personnel except for the doctor-in-charge of the boy started vacating the ward. Watching them leave one by one, Amanda pressed her lips together and only resumed when the door was clicked shut behind the last nurse. ‘I have seen people like you. My classmates, my friends, my colleagues. The ones who are successful all know which battles to pick.’
The girl flexed her hand. ‘And those who don’t?’
‘Destroyed, one way or another.’
Sara’s face twisted as if she wanted to laugh but couldn’t, and then her expression softened. ‘Don’t worry, Amanda,’ she said in a reassuring tone. ‘I’ll be careful.’
She entered her brother’s ward while Amanda waited outside. Not only did the teacher not look convinced, the lines on her face only seemed to deepen more from her student’s response as if foreseeing a doomed future for the two of them, not knowing that indeed, things would turn towards a direction totally unexpected to them - and the entire world.
oOoOo
Now
A lone figure stands in the rain, its form dark save for the neon blue triangle on his back and left shoulder plus the armband on its right arm. The drive from the precinct to its current location is bland, nothing like - nothing as stimulating - as…
As…
So Connor calibrates. Turned up his skin’s sensitivity to feel the change in current as he went through the air-conditioning settings one by one. Turned it down again as he emerged from the taxi into the rain to prevent his processors from overloading. Collected information on the rainwater. pH value below levels which can sustain a balanced ecosystem. Minimal contaminants. Suitable for human consumption. When the analysis is finished, he takes out the coin bestowed upon him from one of his developers - at least, according to Ryder. Connor’s memory banks are unable to provide further information on the matter as there were no other relevant memories. 
Another figure which Connor did not notice was there suddenly vanished, its sudden absence alerting him of its existence. He turns his head, his world becoming shades of grey and yellow outlines as he scans his immediate vicinity, and, discovering nothing notable or dangerous, lets the frozen, imaginary world fall away and reality return with all its vivid colours. Calculating the probability of Lieutenant Anderson being in this bar is simple, and therefore he flips his coin to do some further calibrations.
A swathe of blue surrounds the coin and it stays at its highest point.
LED flashing red in alarm, Connor hastily grabs the coin from its position in midair and jolts as it sends a spark through his system, the thirium in his body distributing oddly against the normal flow like… like a conductor suddenly connected to a closed circuit and the free electrons within suddenly having a direction, one that - one that -
The same blue halo sweeps through the surface of his body, too faint to be noticed by ordinary humans but clearly caught by Connor’s sensitive optic units. The shadow shifts again, ducking out of the android’s sight despite being right there, and subsequent scans also fail to pick it up again.
He is being watched. That is certain.
It is getting unsafe to stand in the street alone any longer, so Connor pockets his coin and fixes his tie, steeling himself for yet another unsuccessful search for the Lieutenant. He ignores the ‘No Androids Allowed’ sign on the door and pushes.
o0o0o
Turns out Hank is easily bribed by alcohol. Sated by the double shot of whiskey, the human’s interest is piqued, and with a sharp ‘Did you way homicide?’, he stands and walks out of the bar as if he has not been consuming heavy liquor for the past few hours. The shadow which has been following Connor vanishes as soon as they are out on the streets, the static-charged air it leaves behind quickly washed away by the rain. Hank insisting on driving worsens matters as it allocates more than enough processing power for Connor to pay heightened attention towards his surroundings: the hum of the old engine, the squeak of the dashboard decoration as it swings, the vibration of the speakers as Hank blasts heavy metal. 
The shadow which reappears as they approach Carlos Ortiz’s house, always out of his sight and never detected by his proximity sensors.
He cannot worry too much, however, when he chooses to follow his original mission and get out of the car, the smell assaulting his nose and the roof of his mouth and very nearly overloading his senses. He sneezes - a response programmed to clear the smell from his nose while his sensitivity is toned down - and is startled by how… strong… it is: a full-body tremor and expulsion of air that takes the colour out of his HUD for a few milliseconds before his eyes recalibrate automatically and return to normal. The noise also draws the attention of a few passers-by whose faces display [emotion identified: shock] when they see the neon-blue band on Connor’s arm and the triangle on his left breast. He ignores them, and a few steps later he encounters his first problem.
‘Androids are not permitted beyond this point,’ the PC200 android holds up a hand. Connor could have easily overpowered it and barge his way in, but that will be against protocol and is not beneficial towards the investigation, therefore he shuts down his pre-construction software before it can give him any suggestions. 
Hank turns from where he was talking to an officer and lets him in. ‘It’s with me,’ he says, but the sense of familiarity is gone completely when Connor approaches him. ‘What part of “stay in the car” didn’t you understand?’
‘Your order contradicted my instructions, Lieutenant,’ Connor answers honestly. Surely the human understands?
Hank’s face scrunches slightly in distaste. ‘You don’t talk, you don’t touch anything, and you stay outta my way,’ he rattles, ‘got it?’
‘Got it,’ is the android’s too-quick reply. 
The human turns towards the entrance of the house just to be greeted by another detective. A scan tells Connor that he is [Detective Collins, Ben. Born: 09/12/1989. Police Detective. Criminal record: none]. ‘Evening, Hank,’ he sounds too [cheerful] for the situation. Descending the veranda, he continues, ‘We were starting to think you weren’t gonna show -’
‘Yeah, it was the plan until this asshole -’ Hank gestures at Connor - ‘found me.’
‘So…’ Collins’ voice is [emotion detected: teasing] when he turns away, ‘you got yourself an android, huh?’
Hank gives a good look at Connor. ‘Oh, very funny.’ [emotion detected: sarcasm] A small sigh. ‘Just tell me what happened.’
He ignores the android and follows Collins into the house, leaving Connor alone in his own device. He is not bothered by how they do not include him in the conversation; he can always tune his ears to their voices and record everything down, so being near them is not a priority. He can analyse the scene as he wishes, Connor realises as his world goes grey save for the yellow of the evidence markers.
Fantastic.
o0o0o
The first thing Connor notices is the abnormal electrical damage. The house itself is nearly in ruins, the floor grey from a layer of dust, the walls cracked and mouldy and, in some places, even falling apart and exposing the wooden beams, but the damage seems recent - as recent as the body they discovered, at least. The damage on the curtains are also new, their ends torn and the remains scattered on the ground, and he gets zapped by the static discharge when he pushes them to the side. It is not painful per se, but it comes as a surprise.
‘You found something?’
It is Hank’s second time asking the question. He stands tall for a hungover man, taller than Connor standing at his full height, and the android finds himself wondering what the Lieutenant looked like when he was in the red ice task force. Probably even taller. Even stronger.
‘There is a copious amount of electrical damage on the walls,’ he answers as he adjusts his eyes to view the backyard better. There are fresh footsteps on the soil. ‘And there is an abnormal amount of static in objects. I suggest handling evidence with care.’
‘Yeah, I don’t remember the last time I’ve been zapped this much.’ Hank also squints at the dirty glass. ‘Door’s locked from the inside. Killer must’ve gone out this way.’
Connor runs a scan. ‘There are no footprints apart from officer Collins’ size ten shoes.’
Hank straightens and crosses his arms. ‘Well, this happened weeks ago. Tracks could’ve faded.’
Comparing data… ‘No, this type of soil would have retained a trace,’ he explains as he catches the Lieutenant’s gaze. ‘Nobody’s been out here for a long time.’
Hank looks away with a grunt as if dissatisfied with the results, and Connor, having analysed everything notable, pushes on. ‘Lieutenant, I think I’ve figured out what happened.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Hank shrugs. ‘Shoot. I’m all ears.’
‘It all started…’ the mess in the kitchen flashes in front of Connor’s eyes, ‘in the kitchen.’
Hank uncrosses his arms. They enter the kitchen together, and the human has to duck to go through the door frame. ‘There’re obvious signs of a struggle, but the question is,’ Hank turns towards the android, ‘what exactly happened here.’
‘I think the victim attacked the android,’ comparing evidence… ‘with the bat.’
Hank perks up. ‘That lines up with the evidence.’ Connor hopes that he isn’t imagining the smile on the human’s face. ‘Go on.’
They switch places, Hank’s arm brushing against Connor’s shoulder in the confined space. He is warm even through the coat, and Connor finds his software warning him of instabilities as the edges of his HUD flashes red for a millisecond. ‘The android stabbed the victim.’
‘So the android was trying to defend itself, right? Okay, then what happened?’
‘The victim fled to…’ recalling re-construction… ‘the living room.’
They follow the silhouette of two struggling figures; more like Connor follows them - Hank just follows him. ‘And he tried to get away from the android,’ the human says, a swing in his arms. He does not look pleased being back near the half-charred, rotting body. ‘Alright, that makes sense.’
‘The android murdered the victim…’ he wants to say the knife, but it did not cause the unexplained burns and broken bones. He runs a search again to compare the wounds (electrical burns, severe blunt force trauma) and does not realise that he has trailed off until Hank speaks up.
‘Well, obviously he got stabbed and burnt,’ the frown on his face deepens. ‘You can’t stab someone without a knife, but what about the rest? The android short-circuited and fried its owner?’
Connor draws up experimental data from CyberLife and compares it to the current needed to cause the damage in front of his eyes. ‘No. It is unlikely for androids to short-circuit, and even if that is the case, the current is not large enough to cause severe burns on humans. Common household models are unable to reach the speed capable of generating enough force to break an adult’s femur either.’
‘But it doesn’t tell us where the android went. If we find it, we can just ask.’
Connor finds himself… liking that line of thought. ‘It was damaged by the bat and lost some thirium.’
‘Lost some what?’
‘Thirium, you call it “blue blood”,’ the android explains as he secretly adds [Hank is not familiar with android mechanics.] into his file. ‘It is the fluid that powers androids’ biocomponents. It evaporates after a few hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye.’
‘Oh…’ Understanding dawns in Hank’s eyes and he smiles, approval in his voice. ‘But I bet you can still see it, can you?’
The edge of Connor’s HUD turns red again as thirium rushes onto his face, and he looks away to begin scanning, not to hide his blush but to quickly search for the deviant. Now that he knows what he is looking for, the blue of evaporated Thirium 310 contrasting starkly with the grey the rest of the world has changed into and forming a trail leading to… a dead end. What he can see, however, is the shadow of a ladder that used to be there, so he looks up and - there. A handprint.
Hank follows his gaze despite not being able to see the trace. ‘You think it’s up there?’
‘I’ll need something to climb.’ Find something to climb, his processor offers, so he turns towards the human and asks, ‘Hank, may I climb you?’
‘Oh for fuck’s -’ Connor’s face must have changed and caused the man to stop ranting, but exactly what that is, the android is not certain. ‘Alright, Jesus, gimme a sec.’ A deep breath. ‘Yeah. How do you want to do it?’
‘Please hold me up, Lieutenant.’
Connor drapes himself on Hank’s back, and the human, finally getting what Connor means, places his arms underneath the android’s thighs and lifts him with a grunt. With his thighs at Hank’s waist, the extra height allows Connor to easily slide the trapdoor to one side. Hank lets go without being prompted to let the android climb further up.
‘I’ll wait here,’ he says as he pops his spine back in place. ‘Yell if you need anything.’
‘Got it,’ he whispers even though the Lieutenant probably cannot hear him. Already missing the human's warmth, he hoists himself fully into the dark attic - 
- and everything hits him. The static, the floating pieces of furniture, the eerie blue glow they give out; the hum in the air, the strange force threatening to tear him apart on the molecular level, the distortion of - he doesn’t know anymore. He has never seen anything like this before, there is nothing in his databases that talks about scenarios like this, and he is very glad that Hank did not come up with him. [Kinetic barrier at 100%] appears on his HUD, but he has no idea what it means.
A piece of cloth waves despite the absence of wind, and since it is blocking his sight, Connor brushes it away and hunches so that he doesn't hit his head against the supporting beams while he watches, fascinated, the fabric float away in a wave of white against the darkness of the room and get caught in the splinters of a beam. He continues forward, at first brushing a few pieces of furniture aside and causing them to fly straight to the other side of the attic, then holding them in both his hands and gently moving them away. If he must speak in an analogy, he would equate it to rearranging furniture: randomly pushing them will send them towards unpredictable directions, but if you lift them and put them exactly where you want them to be, they will not move away. The only difference is that vertical distance is also considered.
[Kinetic barrier at 64%]
A loud crash. Connor’s head snaps towards the direction of the noise just to see a broken mannequin sailing directly towards him across the air. Catching the rapidly-approaching footsteps, he swats the mannequin away and dashes across the source, his veins tingling in an unfamiliar power as he runs into the blue distortions supporting some of the larger furniture and sending them either crashing onto the floor or flying unpredictably away from him; he can faintly hear Hank’s ‘The fuck’s going on up there, Connor?’, but his attention is divided between pre-constructing the deviant and the furniture’s path. The deviant probably knows where he is now, but then again, deviants are known to be unstable and act illogically, so he decides against answering the Lieutenant to attract less attention. 
One final crash. The last wisp of blue breaks and dissipates, plunging the entire attic into darkness except for the yellow glow of an android’s LED. All footsteps halt. 
[No gravitational anomalies detected. Kinetic barrier deactivated.]
The room suddenly lights up again, and the deviant is right there in front of Connor, its face a look of utter [emotion identified: terror]. His HUD flashes with warnings about abnormal thirium flow, and Connor realises that he is the one glowing blue all over and lighting up his immediate vicinity. The tingle in his circuits, the crackle of static, the distortion in front of his eyes - they now originate from within himself instead of his surroundings. 
[DEVIANT LOCATED]
Connor adjusts his eyes for the impending darkness. He relaxes by overriding his muscles, and despite the darkness engulfing them once more, he can see the blood spattered on the deviant’s skin and clothes, the exposed chassis on his arms, the burn marks all over its body. It is to no one’s surprise that it says, ‘I was just defending myself.’ A trembling breath. Red starts to appear at the edge of Connor’s vision. ‘He was gonna kill me. I’m begging you…’ The deviant never stops shaking, and the red climbs towards the centre of his HUD for the first time in his existence, ‘don’t tell them.’
For one split second, the red completely takes over Connor’s sight and forms a crumbling wall a few feet in front of him. A figure - himself, Connor realises - hesitantly steps forward and slides a hand into a crack in the wall, fingers curling in and tearing a piece of it away.
‘Connor, if you don’t answer this second I’ll haul my fat ass up there!’
It is Hank. His warning reminds Connor that he still has a mission to complete, and the red wall recedes as if it is never there. Raising his voice, he shouts without tearing his gaze away from the deviant - 
‘- It’s here, Lieutenant!’
‘Holy shit… Chris, Ben, get your asses in here now!’
The deviant’s expression alone is enough to turn half of Connor’s HUD red again, but even that fails to hide the shadow disappearing from the corner of his line of sight. One thing is sure: either there is a critical error in his software…
Or there is someone following him.
oOoOo    
Before
Somewhere, a figure bearing surprising resemblance to Captain Allen stood with their hands behind their back in front of a large plane of window and stared at a blue sunset and an endless expanse of red desert, and when they shifted, blue light reflected off their face to reveal thin wires outlining every muscle, every nerve, every piece of bone that formed their head. There was tension in their jaw, their temple, and soon we knew what caused it.
‘It doesn’t sound safe,’ they said to no one in particular. ‘As much as I hate to admit it, we need you. Our future is out here. Earth can rot.’
They did not speak for the next few seconds, but when they did, it was something like, ‘I’m glad that you plan to uphold your side of the contract,’ they said sarcastically and turned serious, ‘but I still don’t like where this is going. So many things can go wrong and none of them knows which side you are on. You’ll be caught in the crossfire.’ A pause. ‘I trust your ability and your intellect. What I don’t trust is the stupidity of the general public. That’s why we left. Why we moved forward.’
Whatever the other side of the call made them frown. ‘Then how many years will you wait for? Five? Ten? Twenty? I know you’re smart, Ryder, but that’s just fucking stupid.’ A deep breath and they went on, ‘Not everyone is fucking immortal. How long do they design the androids to last again? Ten years? How many more will die before you leisurely stroll in and burn everything within a fifty-mile radius to the grounds just like last time? How much time do we have before someone points their telescope or satellites in the right way and somehow bypasses all our shields and finds out what’s out here, where I’m standing right now, or what Charon actually is? We get out of that shithole specifically to prepare the world for all of this!’ 
They inhaled as if to calm themself down, and then, ‘Don’t flatter me, Administrator, and you still have that unfinished project you sneaked out right under your dear papa’s nose. Of all your talk about android humanity, you sure as fuck leave a lot of them behind.’ They rubbed their eyes, and when they opened again, glowing rings akin to the lens of a camera were edged on sea-green irises. ‘Fine fucking fine. Make sure to win. Anchor out.’
A loud sigh. Blue tendrils the same as the ones the deviant summoned snaked out of their body and supported their back as they fell backwards, but it did not last long as they straightened and walked through stark white hallways, entering a room at last after passing through a few doors and one that seemed to be an airlock. It was dimly lit by the glow from a pod placed at the farthest corner and the screens connected to it and wires ran like a nest on the floor, however the person seemed to know their way through without tripping and reached a holographic keyboard where they typed something to start a total system diagnostics, and as the screen darkened and the keyboard disappeared to prevent the further input of commands, they manoeuvered themself through the wires to stand at the head of the pod and placed a glowing hand on a hidden interface. The glass allowed them to see the face of the android sleeping in the pod.
Connor’s face.
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writeroutoftime · 4 years ago
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la la land - chapter one
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pairing: steve rogers x reader 
summary: as a struggling actress in the big city, you aren’t sure how you are going to get your big break. similarly, starving artist, steve rogers, doesn’t know how to move on after a deal gone wrong. what happens when the two of you meet and learn more about yourselves, love, and the power of dreams than you ever thought possible? 
warnings: none 
word: 2058
a/n: oh my goodness, I am so excited to final be posting this story!! yes, I know you’re probably think - another series rita, really? but yes, another series!! so, this was actually for @marvelcapsicle​‘s writing challenge, and not only is it overdue, but beth has actually decided to step away from tumblr. however, I still wanted to write this story, and I hope you are excited to read it. the story will follow the general plot of la la land, but I will take some liberties here and there. anyway, please enjoy the first chapter and have a fabulous day! 
There are some lines of dialogue taken from the La La Land script and some song lyrics that inspire dialogue. I do not own anything from La La Land or Marvel, this is purely for creative enjoyment.
oOoOo
New York City. The big apple. The city that never sleeps. A city full of dreamers and a mesh of everything imaginable. Thousands flock to New York every year in hopes of achieving the impossible, pinning down that dream that makes their life worthwhile. It doesn’t matter if they are destined to be starving artists, each day brings a new sun and new opportunities, and no one can tell those dreamers otherwise.
The subway car rattled and whistled as you held onto the standing rail for support, your other hand gripped a rumpled sheet of paper. Eyes closed, you mouthed the words that had been memorized for days, playing the scene over and over in your mind. To any observe you looked ludicrous, but the only thought you could care about was getting that one line right.
“Damn it.” you mumbled when you looked down at your script to see that you had flipped two sentences.
Completely engrossed in your own world, you didn’t notice that the subway train had stopped, nor the tall man that stood before you impatiently tapping his foot and glaring daggers at you. With a scoff, you stepped by so that he was able to squeeze through the doors right before they closed with a ‘whoosh,’ though you didn’t miss the subtle finger he gave you. Some people were just assholes.
However, the man was pushed out of your mind a moment later when you realized, as the train began to move again, that you had missed your stop. Panic consumed you and one glance at your phone told you that you were already pushing making it to your audition on time. Jittery for the next few minutes, you ran out of the subway car as soon as the doors opened at the next stop and bolted up the stairs onto the busy, New York sidewalks.
Dodging against the flow of pedestrian, left and right, you saw that you only had minutes to make it to the theater on time. With your mind focused on the destination, you didn’t see the woman with a tray of iced coffees headed your way until they were spilled down the front of your white shirt. There wasn’t anything that could be done, and you ran away shouting an apology over your shoulder, speeding up when you saw the theater in sight.
Slightly sweaty, out of breath, and with a stained shirt, you shrugged the cardigan you had shoved into your purse on and handed your headshot and resume to the assistant collecting them in the lobby. He gave you an unimpressed looked at your tardiness, but still lead you back to the waiting room where other actresses sat for their turn to impress the higher-ups.
When you walked in the room there was a table full of producers and directors absorbed in their phones, fingers flurrying across their screens, not even given you a second glance. Once you cleared your throat, one of them looked up and nudged the others around her to signal that there was another ‘wannabe’ actress in the room. With a deep breath, you started the scene you had been practicing for days.
“And I swear to God, she was wrecked. It was pure lunacy. Oh God, I know…” you began the scene you knew by heart, phone up to your ear in faux conversation. “No, no, Turner’s fine. So, you- are you waiting ‘til Denver to tell her?” you recited, your smile tightening up as you let your character’s emotions begin to take over, though the fear that ran through you was 100 percent yours. “No, you’re right. I understand.” you said, tears shining in your eyes. “No, I’m happy for you, I just-“
“One second.” you were suddenly interrupted by one of the casting directors as he motioned for another figure to join the room.
As you stood vulnerable before these strangers, they had the audacity to treat you like a movie they could simply press pause on when it was time to place their dinner order. Holding your fake, and soon to be very real tears, you watched as the exchange took place before someone noticed you were still there.
“Uh, thank you.” the one director interrupted. “We’ve heard enough.” she told you and gestured for the door.
“Um, o-okay.” you mumbled with an incredulous look and tried to exit with what little pride you could muster. Out in the waiting room, you saw a handful of other women that looked exactly like you, and you sighed as you shrugged off your jacket, not caring if everyone saw your coffee stained top. No matter how much you practiced or how confident you felt, there was always another actress ready to one-up you, or an assistant ready to interrupt your audition.
Another subway ride later and you made it back to your apartment, kicking off your shoes before you flopped dramatically onto your bed. It had been such a long day between waitressing and another failed audition, that in that moment the only thing that sounded appealing was a hot shower. However, once you stepped out of the shower, it wasn’t long before your roommates barged into the bathroom door, disrupting your pity party.
“Where’s the sauna?” Nat asked with a laugh as she opened the door to the steamed-up bathroom.
“I was trying to give you a dramatic entrance.” you told her over your shoulder on the way back to your room.
On the way there, you ran into Wanda who gave you a hopeful smile. “How’d the audition go, y/n?” The grimace you gave her was all she and Natasha needed to know as they shared a look. “Well you are coming to the party tonight, right?” Wanda asked as you closed your bedroom door.
“I’m not going.” you called out, wincing slightly at their shrieks of protest.
The two rushed to your door and pounded furiously until you emerged, now donned in sweats and a sleep shirt, ready to spend the night with your latest Netflix binge. That was, until Natasha and Wanda cornered you in your own room, grilling you about the party.
“Come on it’s going to be so much fun. A party thrown by Tony Stark and we’re invited!  Besides, when else are we going to see New York’s finest all in one room?” Wanda teased as Natasha looked through your wardrobe.
“I don’t want to go.” you repeated. “It’s just gonna be full of social climbers and I don’t feel like ass kissing all night.”
“But you have the perfect dress.” Nat teased as she pulled out a dress that had sat in the back of your closet for months, never having the right time to where it. “You’ve got the invitation.” she told you.
“You’ve got the right address.” Wanda chimed in, and the two pulled you up from the bed, the dress pressed up against your frame.
“Come on, y/n. Someone in the crowd could be the one you need to know. What do you have to lose?” Nat pressed. “Directors and producers galore, looking for you to star in their next show.” she said as she framed the scene dramatically.
“I think I’ll stay behind.” you told them with a shrug and pushed your roommates out so they could get ready.  
Only a few minutes later you heard Nat and Wanda call out a goodbye quickly followed by the door closing behind them. As the silence of your apartment surrounded you, the thoughts began to swirl in your head. Yes, the audition today didn’t go as planned, but when had that stopped you in the past. Maybe the perfect part was waiting for you at that party. With a new sense of determination, you threw the dress and some heels on and rushed to catch up with your friends.
Nat and Wanda heard the clack of heels behind them and stopped to watch you approach. “Get it, girl!” Nat cheered as they gave you a moment to show off your dress before the three of you linked arms and pranced towards Tony Stark’s apartment complex.
Travelling through the city surrounded you with bright lights, neon signs, and an atmosphere that made anything feel possible. The party was in full swing when the three of you stepped out of the elevator, and you weren’t sure where to look first between the decadent decorations and glamorous people. Wanda quickly dragged you to the bar to grab a drink, but it wasn’t long until you found yourself separated.
While you tried to keep an optimistic attitude, the longer you were around these people, the faster the walls of silver and gold that had been built up in your mind began to deteriorate.  Instead of New York’s finest in the room, you saw sleazy, cheating elites, and when you wouldn’t give them what they wanted, they were quick to move on to their next, potential victim.
Finding the bathroom, you stepped away from the noise and chaos and reveled in the cooler, silent air for a few minutes. Clenching the porcelain sink, you stared in the mirror and wondered what you were doing there? Did you really expect to just be offered at a part by going to a party? You scoffed at the notion, knowing that out in the party, there were so many that shined brighter than you, and you were just another crowd chaser.
When would this end, and could you truly find what you were looking for in New York City? As a young girl, the city seemed so magical and full of hope. It was like a flame and you were the foolish moth who had packed up from the only home you’d ever known and tried to create a whole new life. But, just maybe, this wasn’t the city for you, maybe the flame had burned you too many times. There just had to be a place where you’d find you who were going to be.
It wasn’t long until you tried to find Wanda and Natasha to let them know you were going to leave. While they offered to leave with you, you knew they were enjoying themselves and didn’t want to ruin that. Instead, you grabbed your phone to call an Uber, but groaned when you saw no available drivers were near you for at least another twenty minutes. Deciding the subway would be quicker, and cheaper, you began to walk towards the closest station.
On your way there, you noticed a class or gathering of some sort going on under some tents in the park off to your side, but it was the art that lined the entrance to the class that caught your attention. The sign advertised one of those classes where people paid to paint along with the instructor to feel like an artist for the night. However, the examples displayed held so much more depth and detail than your typical skyline of New York. Whoever had painted these was wasting their time with these classes and deserved to be in a museum. Each one looked like it had taken ages and it was in a style you weren’t really familiar with, but one that sparked something warm and inviting within you.
Glancing up, you watched a tall, blonde man, hunched over his easel as he was sucked into the moment and threw colors across the canvas. While you couldn’t see the picture, you guessed it was just as wonderful as the others, and the way his eyes were slanted in concentration made you smile. Even when a man, who you assumed to be his boss for the evening, approached the artist and began to scold him, you couldn’t look away. When you looked at his art, you felt something, and you needed to let him know.  
The two of you locked eyes from across the way, and you felt your body bring you closer to him. As soon as he was in earshot, you were ready to sing his praise. “I just saw your art, and I-“ you began before he bumped into your shoulder as he walked away.
There was a moment of confusion in your mind as you stood there and stared where the man had just so rudely brushed by you, until you scoffed and continued towards the subway.
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chemicalmagecraft · 4 years ago
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A Black Wind Howls Chapter 3: The Fight
A/N: I hate finals and am glad that I'm done with them. Merry Christmas and happy holidays, everyone!
By the way, if you haven't noticed by now I decided to give all the chapters titles. A chapter that follows the events of an original ATLA name will share its title, but original chapters will have original names.
Also, in case anyone was curious, my mental image of Lhamo is that she looks and sounds like Scorpia from She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, except not a scorpion and with black hair. Meanwhile, I may or may not have thought of Old Toph from TLoK a little when writing Tsering. To be honest, though, I don't really have any one character to point to for Dorji, aside from the in-universe comparison between her and Aang (though it might be more accurate to say she looks like a mix between Toph and Aang, just nobody's seen Toph yet and therefore cannot make that comparison). As for personality, according to TVTropes she might be described as a Rei Ayanami Expy, though I haven't seen Neon Genesis Evangelion so I can't say for sure if that's the best comparison. And just a little fun fact, despite being currently the shortest member of the Gaang (roughly 3'11, and I found a thing that says that Aang is 4'6, Katara is 4'9, and Sokka is 4'11, though it wasn't exactly official so it might be slightly off) she is the second oldest, being a few months older than Katara. Assuming you count Aang as 12 and not 112.
oOoOo
Previously on Avatar...
The firebender that the girl had hit shakily got back up and punched at the airbender's back. Only a puff of smoke came from his fist.
"My name is Dorji. I'm an airbender."
"The power of airbending may have survived through my family line, but unfortunately the spirit of the Air Nomads lives on only through you." Aang winced at that comment.
"Should you really be stealing moon peaches?" Aang asked her in a slightly accusatory tone.
Dorji shrugged. "Not stealing."
Lhamo gasped and hugged the three. "Dorji has friends her age!"
"Is that you, Tsering?" Aang asked.
Tsering grimaced. "I survived."
At some point Katara had shifted in her sleep, ending up with her arm hooked around Dorji's waist. Judging from the red glow dusting her cheeks and ears Dorji had some very conflicting feelings about this. "Shiiiiit..." she muttered softly.
Aang simply couldn't sleep.
oOoOo
Aang and Dorji, both very tired, grunted at each other sleepily when they met in the hall, both rubbing their eyes. "Couldn't sleep?" Aang asked.
"Couldn't sleep..." Dorji nodded after a few moments, like she hadn't heard Aang at first. While Aang had fully opened his eyes, Dorji's were still half-closed drowsily.
"I kinda stayed up all night thinking. You?"
Dorji's cheeks turned a nice shade of pink. "...Also thinking." After a silence that could have been either her insomnia-addled brain trying to think or just her having dozed off for a bit she said, "Actually could you please put your hand on my stomach?"
"What? Why?" Aang asked.
Dorji's blush returned. "I'm... curious about something."
"Oookay..." Aang looked at her weird, but carefully placed his hand on her stomach. "Why?"
Dorji grabbed Aang's arm and twirled around so that his arm ended up hooked around her waist. "Hmm... Nothing..." she muttered as she leaned on Aang's shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Aang asked.
Dorji released his arm and started walking away. "Checking something." She sniffed the air. "Smells like Lhamo made breakfast. Let's go." She walked away before Aang could ask her more questions. Aang sighed and followed her down the hall.
"Hey, Lhamo," Dorji muttered when she walked into the dining room, turning her head slightly to face her cousin who was currently placing food on the table. Katara and Sokka were seated at the table, eating.
"Hey, what'sh up!" Sokka said in between chewing. "You two are up late!"
"Sokka, please don't talk with food in your mouth," Katara scolded.
"Itsh sho good, though!"
Lhamo smiled. "Thank you! I made it myself!"
Dorji stared at Sokka, seemingly deep in thought. Sokka swallowed. "Something wrong?" he asked.
Dorji jumped, sailing through the air to land gently on Sokka's lap, causing him to squawk in alarm. She forced his free arm around her waist. "Ew. Weird," she muttered.
"One of us is weird here and it isn't me," Sokka objected. He put down his food and picked Dorji up, placing her in the seat next to him. Dorji started snoring despite sitting up. "She is weirdly light. Is that an airbender thing?"
Lhamo rushed over to Dorji. She placed one hand on her shoulder and the other over her forehead. "Dorji are you okay? Have you been eating well?"
Dorji grunted lazily and touched the thumb of her open hand to her chest and then her chin, then started snoring again.
Lhamo put some food in front of her. "Still, you need to eat."
Dorji made a small noise, but started eating. She made another sign after a few bites of food, then stopped eating.
"Ya gotta eat more, kid," Tsering said as she entered the room. "You're worried about your dad, right?"
Dorji sniffed and nodded after a few moments.
Tsering sighed and sat down next to her, facing her despite the fact that her eyes were closed. "I am too, kid. You have to eat, though. I remember, back when I'd just escaped the massacre, I couldn't bring myself to eat at all. It... wasn't good for my health. Felt like I was floating all the time, nearly passed out a lot. Think I did pass out a few times. Remember dreaming about everything being upside-down or something... Where was I?" Dorji touched her thumb to her forehead. "Right, your father. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he busted out of prison and assassinated the Fire Lord or some of his generals, or simply razed their capitol to the ground. He can take care of himself. Now eat."
Dorji nodded and started eating again, ignoring Aang, Katara's bewildered stares from what Tsering had said about her son.
oOoOo
"Goodbye, everyone!" Lhamo said with a wave as Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Dorji boarded Appa. "It was nice meeting you all! Take care of Dorji!"
"Goodbye, Lhamo," Dorji said.
"Thanks for the pie!" Sokka shouted.
"Speaking of pie," Tsering said as she walked into the clearing, followed by a few workers bearing a box, a few sacks, and a few tubes. "I have a few gifts for you all." Despite not moving her hands from where they were clasped behind her back, the packages started floating in bubbles of air and were loaded onto Appa. "One of those is the rest of the pie from last night. Eat it before it goes bad. Those bags contain some of our produce, freshly picked." She smiled and stroked Appa's fur. "I'm sure between the sky bison and the three growing teenagers, you'll need them."
"Thanks!" Aang said. "We'll be sure to use them."
Tsering chuckled. "That's not even the thing I figured you'd like the most. The scroll tubes contain, among other things, copies of genuine Air Nomad scrolls."
Aang's eyes widened. He grabbed one of the tubes, one with the Air Nomad sigil on it, and with shaking hands carefully opened it. He reverentially pulled out a pristine scroll that also had the Air Nomad sigil on it. He unfurled it, revealing instructions for advanced airbending techniques. His eyes welled with tears and he quickly rolled the scroll up and put it back before wiping his eyes. "Y-you..."
The old woman smirked at him. "Figured you'd like that. I may not have been too cut out for the whole monk life, but I'm still an Air Nomad. I decided a while back to preserve as much of Air Nomad culture as I could, hopefully for future generations but at the very least to preserve records of my people." She chuckled. "Made a bit of name for myself in the field of anthropology as a result."
"And you're just giving these to me?" Aang asked.
She shrugged. "As I said, they're copies. I made sure to put the originals in safe hands, so don't worry too much if you lose them."
"What are the other scrolls?" Katara asked.
"I also wrote down some techniques Wangchuck and I made that Dorji might want to refresh herself on. And you might want to learn some of those, Aang." Aang looked a little uncomfortable when she said that. "Just a suggestion, kid. There's also some stuff on Air Nomad culture in there that I thought you might like, plus some recipes in case you want something from home. Aside from that, there are a few scrolls on bending the other elements that I've managed to obtain. Figured that as the Avatar you might have more use for those than me. Unfortunately I wasn't able to get much more than theory for fire and water, especially because Wangchuck never fucking told me where he put his scrolls, but it's better than nothing, huh?" She smiled at Katara. "Plus I figure you might appreciate it too, Katara. You are a waterbender, are you not?"
Katara nodded. "Thank you."
"I also managed to find a scroll on healing with waterbending. It's not anything you can use in a fight but, well..." Tsering rolled up her sleeve, revealing a faded but still slightly visible burn scar. "Let's just say I speak from experience when I say that healers are the kind of thing that are always great to have around. I'll try to find practical waterbending scrolls to get to you."
Katara bowed. "You've already given us a lot. I'll try to work with what you've given me already."
Tsering shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I've got enough connections that I should be able to get you a few scrolls eventually."
"That stuff's cool and all, I guess, but I don't suppose you have anything I can use?" Sokka asked.
She nodded. "Fair enough. It might not be quite your fighting style, but there are also a few scrolls on chi blocking in there. The art was originally developed by nonbenders to give them an edge against benders. Dorji can teach the basics to you, if you want. And finally, I added in a few scrolls on Earth Kingdom Sign Language."
"Is that that weird hand thing Dorji was doing earlier?" Sokka asked.
Dorji winced and Katara glared at Sokka.
Tsering stared at him flatly. "Little rude to phrase it like that, but yeah. It's good for sneaking around because you have to be pretty fucking bad at it to make noise while doing it. And while it's not my place to tell you why, Dorji sometimes prefers talking in it so it'd be for the best if at least one of you learned enough of it to hold a conversation."
"Thank you, Grandmother," Dorji muttered shyly.
"Right, you all should leave now. Goodbye, Dorji and Aang." She waved them off with a smile.
"What about us?" Sokka asked as Appa started to rise.
She shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose you too." Despite being far away from them at this point and not speaking up at all, her voice traveled perfectly to them.
oOoOo
Aang touched Appa down in a large forest clearing so they could rest for the night. He patted Appa on the head before jumping back onto the saddle. "All right, buddy. Let's see what Tsering got you." He was a little woozy from lack of sleep, but hopefully they'd be sleeping soon so he didn't say anything about it.
Dorji jumped off of Appa and pointed at the ground by his side, making a small circle with her pointing finger. A small cloud of dust kicked up where she pointed. "I'll cushion your fall," she offered.
"Thanks!" Sokka said, then jumped down. When he hit the dust cloud his fall slowed and he fell on his ass with a yelp.
"Sorry," Dorji muttered. She moved her hand to the right slightly, and the dust cloud moved to where she was pointing. She widened her circles, causing the dust cloud to grow larger and wider. "This one should be better, hopefully."
Katara jumped. She also lost her balance when she hit the cloud, but Dorji quickly stepped forward and caught her.
"Thank you," Katara said.
"Y-you're welcome," Dorji said, blushing slightly. She immediately let go of her and stepped back a bit.
"Thanks for catching me, too," Sokka deadpanned as he got up.
"You're welcome," Dorji said.
He looked at her flatly.
Dorji tilted her head and blinked. "Was that sarcasm?" she asked.
Sokka sighed. "Yes, that was sarcasm," he said exasperatedly.
"Ah," she said. She looked a little nervous for some reason. "I'm sorry, I... have trouble with detecting tone, sometimes."
Katara glared at Sokka yet again. "How was I supposed to know that!?" Sokka snapped at Katara.
Katara sighed. "Sorry, you do have a point there. Is there anything else we should be aware of, Dorji?"
Dorji eyes widened. She blushed and gave Katara a very appreciative smile. "I... Sometimes I have... problems processing sounds. It's not too bad anymore, I hope anyway, but please be patient if I need you to repeat things," she muttered.
Katara nodded. "Okay. Is that why your grandmother said you sometimes prefer to use sign language?"
She bit her lip. "It's... part of it. I would also prefer if you faced me while speaking to me, for similar reasons. I can read lips, in case I'm having trouble with hearing."
"How do you read lips?" Sokka asked.
"Lots of practice. Start by looking at lips."
Sokka shrugged. "Fair enough."
Aang jumped off of Appa's saddle after putting the bag of apples he was feeding Appa back. "What're you guys talking about?" he asked.
Katara gave Dorji a look, as if asking her if it was okay to tell him. Dorji nodded to her. "Dorji was telling us about how she has a few... issues with hearing."
"Oh, is that what the sign language was for?" he asked.
Dorji nodded. "I can hear, but I have trouble processing sounds sometimes, if that makes sense," she clarified.
Aang nodded. "I remember one of the boys I grew up with, Dema, had an issue like that too." His face fell. "Dema..."
"I apologize," Dorji said.
"For what?"
Dorji fidgeted. "I... brought up a memory. One that must be painful for you."
Aang shook his head. "No, you didn't even know that'd remind me of Dema."
"Would... would you like something to take your mind off of it?" she offered.
"Thanks!" He smiled at her. "What do you have in mind?"
"If you're going to be fighting the Fire Nation, you need combat skills. Traditional airbending may have had martial arts, but they were mostly restricted to evasion, disengaging, and defense," she explained. She unsheathed one of her daggers and swiped it at a tree off to her side, not even breaking her gaze with Aang. A blade of wind rushed from her blade, slicing a deep gash in the ground as it kicked up a large cloud of dust and slicing the tree almost in half vertically when it hit it. "All of that is good, but you might be a bit lacking in your offensive capabilities, decisively ending a fight." She spun her dagger, then sheathed it. "Shall we begin?"
"I don't feel comfortable with that," Aang said nervously.
"Why not?"
Aang clenched his hands, a sour expression on his face. "That's... That's not airbending."
"Um... Aang?" Sokka put his hand on his shoulder. "Maybe..."
Aang forced his hand off. "No. That's not airbending."
"It is, though," Dorji rebutted. "Well, some of the moves I intend to teach you don't need airbending, but for the one I just showed you? Doing it requires you to stream air along a thin surface, like my daggers or your staff. It might be a little hard at first if you haven't done anything like that, but-"
"That's not what I mean!" Aang shouted. "You're doing it all wrong!"
Dorji sighed. "It's not wrong. Just... different. I understand that it might be upsetting to see such a different style from what you're used to, but... it's not wrong."
"It goes against all of airbending culture!" Aang shouted.
"Aang..." Katara said.
Dorji frowned slightly. "I see. You know, I had always been fascinated with grandmother's scrolls and books about the Air Nomads. Part of it was just that reading was... nice... for me, I will admit, but..." She turned away from Aang and walked a few steps away from him. She stood there for a few seconds, then sniffled and wiped her face. When she turned back around her eyes were a little red. "For a while, I wanted to be like them. They were my people, my ancestors. But at the same time, I was always worried a true Air Nomad would despise me, as I am still my father's daughter, and my father was not a traditional Air Nomad. Thank you for confirming it for me. I told you before, the pacifistic monks of the past died out a century ago. I'm not an Air Nomad. I was never an Air Nomad." She touched one of the green highlights of her clothing. "I was born of the Earth Kingdom. I was raised by the Earth Kingdom. Why should I call myself an Air Nomad?"
Aang's face contorted in anger, then softened slightly. "Fine." He turned around and walked away.
"Fine," Dorji echoed. She pulled the two halves of her father's staff from her belt and started walking towards a large rock.
Sokka and Katara sighed at the same time. "I'll talk to Aang, do you want to talk to Dorji?" Sokka asked.
"That sounds good," Katara agreed.
"Cool." Sokka started climbing back onto Appa, struggling a bit. "Let me just... get something... real quick."
While Sokka was doing that, Katara walked over to Dorji. Wielding the two halves of her father's staff like dual swords due to how long they were compared to her, Dorji swung at the rock with one segment. A wide gash appeared in it despite the fact that the staff never made contact with it. She swung with the other segment, creating a second gash. Next she slashed both, deepening and widening both of the gouges she'd made. She quickly put the two halves of the staff together and started twirling it with insane speed. The wind in the area picked up, and dust clouds flowed towards her staff. She jumped back and threw the staff at the boulder. The spinning staff cut cleanly through the boulder, grinding it in half with little resistance. After it was on the other side Dorji held her hand out to it. The staff shot back, pulverizing the upper half to smaller rocks with pure windy force. Dorji caught the staff and swung it, blowing all the rocks and dust away. She used the momentum of the swing to turn around, jabbing the end of the staff a few inches away from Katara's throat. Tears streamed down the shorter girl's face, and her hands were trembling. The air stilled again.
Katara slowly put her hand on Dorji's shoulder. The airbender stiffened a little, but didn't resist. Katara smiled at her and slowly lowered Dorji's staff with her other hand before pulling her in for a hug. Dorji dropped the staff and started sobbing. "W-why?" she asked. Katara let her go, and she rubbed her eyes. "Why can't I go a day without crying?"
Katara sat down on the remaining part of the boulder, which had conveniently been cut and smoothed into a serviceable, if a little tall, bench by Dorji's practice. She patted a spot next to her and smiled at Dorji, inviting her to sit next to her. Dorji hesitated, but slowly sat down. She tilted her head slightly to Katara, staring at her.
"When my mother died... It was hard on all of us. And the first few days were the hardest. But... it does get easier. And I'm sure I speak for Sokka as well as myself when I say that we will both be here for you when you need a shoulder to cry on." She sighed. "And I'd have hoped that I could say the same of Aang, but now I'm not sure..."
Dorji whimpered.
Katara scowled. "To be honest, I didn't think Aang would blow up like that. I mean, he was a little touchy when he saw what happened to his old temple, but I thought that that was just from seeing the remains of someone he knew..."
Dorji winced. "Did I... some of the things I told Aang must have hurt him. I should apologize." She tried to get up, but Katara put her hand on her shoulder.
"Don't. I think he should apologize first. He's hurting, yes, but he has no right to take that out on you."
Dorji leaned on Katara. She didn't say anything else, but Katara hugged her.
oOoOo
Aang sighed. He sat at the edge of a small lake near where they had landed, prodding at the water with some attempts at waterbending. "Maybe I shouldn't have..."
Sokka slapped him on the back of his head, then sat down next to him. "Yeah, you really shouldn't have." His tone was annoyed.
"I'm so-"
Sokka slung his arm around Aang's back, clamping his hand on his shoulder. "No. You're gonna listen. You lost your people and found out the world crumbled after you left. I can't even imagine how horrible that feels. But." He tightened his grip. "If you even begin to think that gives you a right to dump all that out on a girl you just met, who recently lost her father, that's unforgiveable. Imagine if some old friend of that one monk guy you were fond of... Gyatso, I think, came out of nowhere and told you that you weren't fit to be the Avatar, or even an Air Nomad. That's what you just did to Dorji."
Aang sighed. "You're right. I should never have said that. I... I'm sorry."
Sokka patted his shoulder. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, buddy. And first... maybe we should talk a bit. You've got a few issues to work out, clearly."
Aang looked down. "I... I miss them."
"Yeah, that's pretty natural. But what made you lash out at Dorji like that?"
He sighed. "I guess... I'm sure she's not trying to, but she always seems to... remind me they're gone. That I was gone for a hundred years, and my people are long gone." He sniffed and rubbed his eyes. "But... I should never have taken it out on her."
Sokka patted his back. "You know, I know I always complained about the lack of meat and everything, but... If you want to make a traditional Air Nomad dish or something, I'd totally be willing to help." He grinned. "And I'm sure Dorji would, too. But first you gotta apologize to her." He pulled out a scroll. "And I have an idea of something you can do for that."
oOoOo
Dorji had fallen asleep, resting with her head on Katara's shoulder. Katara smiled and stroked her hair gently, as not to wake her. Sokka walked up to her, Aang trailing sheepishly behind.
"I hope you're here to apologize," Katara glared at Aang.
Aang shrank back slightly. "Yeah, I... Shouldn't have taken my feelings out on Dorji." He got out from behind Sokka and faced Dorji. "Dorji, I want to apologize to you," he said, raising his voice to try to wake her up. "My suffering was no excuse for what I said to you. And I was wrong, you may be other things, but you are an Air Nomad, too!"
Dorji, perhaps due to her hearing impairment that she had yet to fully explain to the others, did not react at all to this.
"Maybe you should wait until she wakes up, Aang?" Sokka said.
He nodded. "Right, sorry. Should... should we wake her up or..."
Dorji stirred, then sat up and started rubbing her eyes. "Sorry, did someone try to wake me? You'll need to shake me awake, shouting won't work..." She noticed Aang and stiffened slightly. "R-right. Y-you..." She bit her lip.
Aang placed his hand, a loose fist, on his chest and made a small circular motion with it. The sign, as best he understood the EKSL scroll, for 'sorry.' "I'm sorry," he said, as sincere and contrite as possible. "You reminded me of what I've lost, and I couldn't take that and lashed out at you. But that's not an excuse for how I acted towards you. I understand if you don't forgive me. For what it's worth, you are a real airbender." He smiled. "You are airbending culture, as much as I am. And you have every right to call yourself an Air Nomad."
Dorji sniffed. She rubbed her face, but a few tears fell onto her shirt still. "Th-thank you. And... f-for what it's worth... I'm sorry for hurting you, even if it was unintentional. I'll... I'll try to be more mindful of what I say in the future."
Aang smiled at her. "Thanks. If you want, you could show me that one airbending move. I don't think I'll ever use it on a person, but if I need to cut down a lot of trees really fast I could use it for that?"
She smiled slightly. "Actually... I think I know another move that my grandmother made that might... suit your tastes slightly better. When used on a trained warrior, especially a firebender due to how firebenders train their lungs, it will never cause any lasting damage. And at the same time, it will temporarily disable the person you use it on, especially if they are a firebender."
Aang hugged her. "That sounds great! And later, I can show you some airbending moves of my own!"
Dorji backed up nodded when Aang released her. "I'd like that. But first..." She got into a fighting stance and took a deep breath. "The best way to explain this is with a demonstration. And the best way for you to learn how to do it is to experience it yourself. But I will not do it without your permission, as it can feel... unpleasant."
"Um, is this a good idea?" Sokka asked.
Aang nodded. "Do it. Is there anything I should be paying attention to?"
"Your breath." In a blur, Dorji was suddenly standing inches away from Aang. She paused for just long enough for Aang to focus on her, a rush of wind punctuating her stop, then jabbed him in the solar plexus with two fingers. The amount of force she put into the physical movement was negligible, but Aang still toppled backwards as he felt his lungs empty against his will. He struggled on the ground for a few seconds, finding it hard to regain his stolen breath. Eventually he coughed and shakily took the hand that Dorji had offered him at some point.
"Are you okay, Aang?" Katara asked.
"Gimme... a minute..." he said between pants, a pained grimace on his face as his breathing slowly returned to normal.
"Sorry, I should've mentioned it can be... unpleasant." Dorji said, taking a few steps away from Aang and the others. She looked nervous again.
"No, it's fine," Aang assured her. He chuckled. "I probably should've guessed it wouldn't feel too good, anyway. Still, I can see what you were getting at. And you're sure it doesn't hurt people you use it on?"
She nodded. "Unless you use it on the same person multiple times in a row without letting them breathe, or use it on someone with weak lungs. But a trained soldier should be fine, and the technique will let you take them out of a fight for a few seconds at least, as well as open them up to a finishing move. And most notably, it temporarily disables firebending."
"It disables firebending!?" Sokka parroted, incredulous.
Dorji nodded. "Grandmother made the technique with some principals involved in chi blocking, after performing some... research on firebending." She breathed deeply, in and out, and when she exhaled her breath was very warm. "In fact, she learned that the breathing techniques the Air Nomads used to keep themselves warm in even the coldest of weather were originally based on knowledge given to them by firebenders. Firebending does not come from muscles, but rather the breath. So a technique that disrupts a firebender's ability to breathe..."
"Also disrupts firebending," Sokka finished. "That's... that's amazing!"
"It only lasts a minute or so at best, but it will still throw a firebender off," Dorji continued explaining. "And a master of it can do it from a distance, or even without moving at all, or at least my father and grandmother can. If you need more guidance to learn it, Aang, ask me. But..." Dorji turned to Sokka. "Perhaps you would like to learn chi blocking? You seemed pleased with the concept of disrupting firebending. And it can do more than just disable bending for a few seconds."
He grinned. "That sounds awesome!"
She nodded. "Then let us begin." She collapsed, but still somehow managed to hit the ground lightly. "Tomorrow. I'm tired." She closed her eyes, already asleep.
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humankoalaa · 5 years ago
Text
BLACK LIGHTNING 3X06
*SPOILERS AHEAD*
anissa hush with this if i die video. you ain’t bout to die girl 😂
tayvon 😭😭 jasun wardlaw jr. is so handsome.
lynn.... 🤦🏾‍♀️
oh no jamila. bye girl. at a funeral? you looking for a story? BYE. who raised you? my mother would’ve slapped the shit outta me.
LMAO nissa and lynn weren’t having it.
jeff... ugh my grandpa with allllll the patience for jamilas rude ass.
tied of my grandparents fighting. at least lynn ain’t high as hell tawm bout bullshit.
thundergambi ❤️
woah..... nissas meta genes affected too? shit.
she said how much time i got 😂😂 tv be killing me knowing damn well people ain’t bout to die.
gambi ready to snitch 😂
oooooo bih i thought that was lady eve. iss gina tho.
i thought truth teller was henderson 😩 i need to stay off this weed when im watching be forgetting or not noticing shit 😩
lynn and tobias are my favorite enemies.
how nafessa/thunder still look 😍 “dying?” .... black don’t crack. dass why. all offense.
jeffs identities with these two black eyes would be more subtle than blackbirds mask. i said what i said.
ooooo jeff said sorry. growth.
i knew she’d blame herself for tayvons death 😣
😂😂😂 “it’s like that?” ... jeff why you ask that when your daughter is petty?
commercial break. im bouta to get lit. this episode got a chill vibe. i needs my weed to really embrace the chillness. ... by any means necessary y’all.
my friend said YOU JUST GOT HIGH.... girl... 🤣 mhm she is. if you don’t know what that means.... well.
“im not a porcelain doll” 🤣🤣
Bruce Leroy? theure REALLY tryna break a record how many corny things a character say in a tv show record. stop playing with my mother man.
“you smell of death” 😂😂 grace. filter. what is it? .... nevermimd ms. choi. nevermimd.
nissa lying through her damn quilt.
that quilt can’t even keep the sun warm.
“I’m not aboutt to lose you now” 😍
BUT LIKE ANISSA COULD BE IN THE SHOWER WITH GRACE BUT POISON 😤 talk about a kittyblock. im pissed.
ooooo hair bitch you spying on my recently excommunicated grandmother? i couldn’t y’all she was getting on my nerves 😩 ididnt have a choice!
jenn....... dude took your electricity or whatever last time..... how you ain’t learn 😩
odell in peoples house uninvited AGAIN 🤦🏾‍♀️
i will barbecue your black ass 😂
oh shit mr handsome disappearing meta is back 👀 i need him and painkiller to fight.
jamila... you nosey.
i see the green light ain’t fuck her up that bad.
okay hair. you alright for now. he can manipulate the earth? ok. bet not be manipulating my auntie.
ooooooo gambi knows it’s painkiller.
okay i agree. tobias ain’t as bad ass odell..... pains me to say that.
🤣🤣🤣🤣 tobias is such a troll.
“neon negro” bitch im deaaaaddd. tobiaaaasss 😭😭😭😭 im cryn.
“anissa? baby?” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 sing to me grace! you bettah saaang 😭
the lesbian in me is gonna say grace has gambi on speed dial. let me have this. SH.
#thundergambrace has my heart. that’s their ship name. you read it here first.
grace i want to thank you for taking off the hoodie.
worried grace ❤️
he called grace pretty lady 😭
oooooo odell finna die *i know he’s not but he better be severaly wounded* preferably like shot in the mouth. im a nice person i swear i just cannot with this mans.
KILL HIS ASSSSS MR MARKOVIAN
JEFF?! really?! you couldn’t arrive one second later? DAMN! 😤
pathetic? cause he doesn’t kill? see you should’ve let mr. markovian kill his ass jeff.
i keep think gina is lady eve. ALSO seriously?? it’s jamila? now she’s part of the resistance squad? 🤦🏾‍♀️
ohhhh shit. welp. hi dr. jace.
dr. jace. matching to the gods rn. she got that nancy grace hair that don’t never move.
thundergrace cuddles ❤️
why grace take the empty bowl up there to the shower....
PAUSE! was grace bout to change into the leopard cause of anissas i guess rotting insides? i know i shouldn’t laugh but .... 😂
gambi 🤭 oooooooooo he knows.
man im ready for lynn and jeff to divorce. like Jeff could’ve died lynn.
lol you crazy lynn. gang green crazy. most people be on that liquor. lynn out here on whatever the hell gang green is. lawd.
this episode was a nice change of pace. my blood pressure coulfnt handle another last week type episode y’all. see y’all next week 🤞🏾❤️
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