#that describing a party would be that hard
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heavenorhella2001 · 3 days ago
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This had never occurred to me way back when when I first watched playthroughs of the game/played it myself, but;
Seeing this post made me remember Max's nightmare, when she was trapped in her own mind/a broken version of reality.
And seeing this now?
Max definitely has PTSD.
Everyone always primarily discusses/ focuses on Chloe's trauma (which is understandable. I'll always be a Chloe defender and don't want to downplay her trauma by any means.)
But, unfortunately, Max's is overlooked.
Now, a lot of people might view this skeptically, question the idea of Max having PTSD. To many, it might seem like Max doesn't really have any lasting form of major trauma after the events of the game. Maybe she really was content and at peace and happy-go-lucky. (I've always scoffed at that scene at Chloe's funeral, when Max smiles at the butterfly.) And I'll admit, within the context of the story maybe we aren't supposed to think so. But if that's the case I just have to assume that's due to the developing team's lack of knowledge, experience with mental health and how it works, the impact things like this have on someone. Not that they are coming from a malicious place, of course. But very rarely does a person 'get it' unless they've been through it themselves. The average person simply won't understand.
But if you see everything I've described here as it's laid out, it makes total sense;
Let's talk about Jefferson. He is just one of many elements in the game contributing to Max's trauma. He was her teacher, someone she looked up to, respected, and was supposed to be able to trust. She truly felt safe around him. It's implied she had a crush on him. But her image of him completely shattered. After the truth about him was revealed, she was no longer able to trust her own judgement of people, her perception of reality.
He drugged her when she was vulnerable, and she was helpless to watch as he shot and killed the love of her life right in front of her. He kidnapped her, and she was thrown from the frying pan right into the fire. When she woke up she was tied up in a basement, helpless, and he had burned all her photos. Not only precious memories, but also one of her only means of going back and fixing things. He then took photos of her, over and over, this went on for who knows how long, while she was drugged, tied up and helpless, in order to satisfy his own perversions. Throughout, he mocked and tormented her.
Then, let's go into what happened with Chloe. Having to watch her best friend, the girl she loved, die over and over and over again. Max felt responsible for fixing it, preventing it, because she was the only one who possibly could. She would blame herself, think of it as a failure on her part each time Chloe died.
After watching her die in various ways, so many times, I'm sure Max questioned if she really even could save Chloe- or if Chloe was supposed to die from the start, and the universe was determined to restore the balance, no matter what Max did or how hard she tried.
And then there's Kate. This could go one of two ways depending on your choices, one of which is infinitely worse and more traumatizing, but either way it would definitely have haunted Max and left an impact on her.
Imagine how you would feel, knowing one of your closest friends was being bullied. Knowing they have been drunk/drugged and taken advantage of at a party. Yet instead of anyone coming forward, doing the right thing and helping Kate out of that situation, everyone at the party instead weaponized it, used it against her, slut-shamed her even though she wasn't in her right mind, was barely even conscious and was in no way able to consent to anything that was happening. Not that slut-shaming her would have in any way been okay or excusable even if Kate was acting of her own volition. Knowing that, even though you don't agree/don't identify with that, that your friend is deeply religious and clings to faith as a means of comfort. Knowing that she feels like a failure, that she feels like she's betrayed her faith, everything she stands for, and her family, even though she was in fact a victim in her situation. Being able to read letters, watching her family victim-blame her, hide behind their beliefs as a means to tear down someone they should feel obligated to protect, to support. Watching your friend be alienated by everyone around her, including her own family. Watching the school bullies write obscenities about your friend on the walls, and in the bathroom, make jabs at her and taunt her at every possible opportunity. Your friend's light has begun to dim, she starts pulling away from you, begins hiding away in her room more, which now feels like a dark, oppresive void. You know your friend is depressed, and you're trying to be supportive in any way you can, but there's a distance building between you you feel you can't bridge.
Then it happens. She kills herself/tries to kill herself. In front of you, and everyone who tormented her. Even then, the people who hurt her have no shame, laughing and recording her when she's in crisis. You begin to question and blame yourself, blaming youself for not noticing something was severely wrong earlier, not recognizing the impending signs for what they were. You want to help your friend, to save her, but your powers at failing you at the worst possible time. You only get one chance to do this, like everyone else, and you have to do it the right way.
If Max managed to talk Kate down, that's still an instense emotional weight, still a serious event to work through and process.
If Kate jumps…well…
Max feels like a failure. Like she contributed to Kate's death just as much as everyone else. Like she may as well have pushed Kate off that ledge herself. Not only watching your friend die in front of you, but knowing that it was self-inflicted in a moment of desperation, that they chose to do so and your words had no effect…
Now, the end of the game. Depending on what you choose, Max either has to to feel an immeasurable weight on her conscience, the responsibility for the destruction of the town where she was born. Where she grew up. Where she has countless memories, despite its' faults. The deaths of almost everyone there she's ever known.
Including (especially) Joyce.
The guilt of feeling like she took Chloe's mom away from her too, after Chloe had already lost her dad.
Oh. And that reminds me.
It was an incredible miracle, Max discovering her ability to go back through time via photos. Being able to go back 5 years, to when she and Chloe were only 13, before all the horror had happened, and save William. The sense of sheer relief, happiness and accomplishment she felt. She felt like a hero.
Only for it to all blow up in her face in the worst possible way.
Seeing Chloe, now a total shell of her former self. Completely disabled, and paralyzed. Helpless. Unable to live on her own. Seeing firsthand the emotional and financial stress William and Joyce are going through as a result of the accident. Chloe having so little quality of life that she pleads with Max to kill her, because she can't even do it herself.
(This is not my narrative or opinion on Chloe's situation, by the way. This is how it's portrayed. Quality of life, determining whether your life is worth living to due a life-changing accident or consequent disability is the choice of the invidual whom it effects. I'm not saying that anyone in Chloe's situation, who is paralyzed would inherently have no quality of life or no reason to live. That really depends on the invidiual, what that person needs in order to truly live and thrive, whether that person has family and friends and an emotional/practical support system in their life, etc. For Chloe, for me, and for many other people, though not all, living that kind of life would not be worth it.)
Max, depending on your choices, having to kill Chloe, to choose the merciful path, allow Chloe to exercise her autonomy in a world in which she can no longer do so and put her out of her misery. Knowing that she's doing for Chloe what she'd want someone to do for her if she were in that situation, yet still full of pain and regrets.
Max then having to go back and undo it all. Allow William to die again. Watch Chloe experience that horror and trauma again, knowing now she could've prevented it. But at what cost?
Lastly, if you chose to let Chloe go. To let her die.
That makes it immeasurably worse in my opinion.
The week she and Chloe spent together, reconnecting and rebulding their friendship, everything they went through together, would essentially never have happened.
Chloe, in this timeline, died alone in a bathroom. She never recieved any sort of closure, never got to know what happened to Rachel, questioning if Rachel perhaps just abandoned her, similarly to how Max did.
She never got to resolve things with Max, never heard from her again. She never got to know that Max still loved her, still cared about her and thought of her, but was too scared and guilty to reach out.
She never got to patch up things with her mom, or with David.
Everything Max went through. Everything she experienced.
To recap:
Having to watch her best friend, the woman she loves, die over and over again, feeling helpless, trapped in this endless, hellish cycle of death.
Being lulled into a false sense of security, betrayed and abducted by someone she thought she could trust, someone she looked up to.
Witnessing firsthand Kate's suicide/attempt, feeling like she failed her.
Being forced to let William die again, and force Joyce and Chloe to suffer that loss again.
Having to watch Joyce mourn her only daughter, after already losing her husband. Knowing she could've prevented it.
Everything that happened would still exist, but only in Max's mind.
She has no one she could ever confide in, talk to, or open up about it.
Chloe, for her, was that person.
No one would believe her, albeit understandably.
It's implied her powers vanish after she goes back that final time to let Chloe die.
She'd have no way to prove her story was true.
Carrying the weight of that burden, that knowledge and trauma, alone, would drive anyone insane.
Feeling like everything she went through, all the efforts she made to keep Chloe alive, were pointless.
I don't believe there is any way Max could be okay after that.
She'd be a hollow shell, just going through the motions. Totally disconnected from the world and the people around her. (Understandably. Who the hell could she connect to? Who would understand her?) Everyone at Blackwell, and their student lives and petty drama would feel so insignificant. So incredibly stupid and shallow to Max after what she's been through.
In fact, I've always felt - years after the events of the game, were you to choose to let Chloe die - that Max likely killed herself.
Over time, she probably began to question herself, to feel crazy, and begin wondering whether any of what happened, actually did, or if it was just something her mind created.
Max's trauma, her thoughts and emotions in regards to all of this are reflected in this part of the game, her mental breakdown. You can see her self-loathing, the way she blames and criticizes herself, in her interactions with herself and in her distorted journal entries.
Anyway. I never really liked Max all that much as a protagonist.
I thought she was a pushover, a little shallow, cared too much about what people like Victoria thought of her. I thought it was pretty unforgivable the way she ghosted Chloe, at the most traumatic, formative time of Chloe's life, when she had just lost the most important person in her life, besides Max. I understand anxiety, feeling awkward, helpless and flailing in that situation and not knowing what to say or do to make it better, but it just doesn't matter to me. Nothing excuses that.
However…
Max, did ultimately (well, depending on your choice at the ending,) make it right.
This has given me some perspective, and I have a lot more empathy for her now.
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     you thought you could control everybody and everything, huh?      —   twist time around your fingers?
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scary-grace · 2 days ago
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(secret) santa, baby - part 12 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic
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Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds
i ii iii iv v vi vii viii ix x xi
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part xii (opening presents)
“What?” Spinner asks anxiously. “Do you think it’s too much or something?”
“Um – no.” You’re definitely lying. You can barely see Spinner around the enormous box he’s carrying. You’re not sure if he can see anything, either. “I mean, it’s the last Secret Santa gift of the year. Go big or go home, right?”
“Yeah,” Spinner agrees. He sounds relieved. “And after what happened – she deserves something extra nice, don’t you think?”
“Definitely.”
You weren’t sure how Spinner would react to the news that Aiba and her boyfriend have broken up – or rather, that Aiba dumped him when she found out about the kiss. You know people who’d have been happy to find out that the person they’d liked from afar was finally single. But Spinner wasn’t happy. He looked so unhappy when he found out that Twice elbowed him and said he’d never seen anybody be that upset over good news.
Spinner stared at him like he was crazy. It’s not good news, he said. She’s really sad. Why would I be happy about her being sad?
Spinner’s a good guy, and you’re pretty sure the giant gift he’s carrying is something he bought before the mistletoe-day disaster. When you look around the ballroom where the party’s being held, you see a lot of giant gifts, enough that going all-out with the last gift must be a tradition or something. It’s a tradition, and you missed the memo. Your last gift for Tomura is small enough to fit in your purse.
It was hard to find, and you’re pretty sure you outed yourself as Tomura’s Secret Santa to Spinner in the process of figuring out what “video games” meant on Tomura’s list. Tomura apparently has a thing for retro consoles, and retro consoles only play old games. Spinner mentioned a game Tomura’s been half-assedly searching for since last year, and you decided to find it. It took a lot of time spent scrolling on Ebay and picking through thrift store discount bins, but you finally found it, and you even found an old console to test it on to make sure it worked. You were really excited to give it to him until you got here and saw what everybody else did.
But it’s too late to change anything now. You’re here with your tiny gift, and Tomura’s going to think you didn’t try at all. If he’s even here. “Do you know if Tomura’s going to be here?”
“Last I heard, yeah,” Spinner says. “He changes his mind last-minute about stuff, though. I can text him if you want?”
“I have his number,” you say. “I can do it.”
You can, but you won’t. You know Tomura hates parties, and you don’t want to put his maybe liking you to the test against how much he hates getting dressed up and going out. It’s what kept you from asking him yourself, even though the two of you have been texting more than two people who see each other every day at work really should. The only person who brought up the party was him, when he asked if you were going. You said yes, and then he asked why. There’s going to be free food, you said. And I want to meet my Secret Santa.
As far as you can tell, most people have at least some idea of who their Secret Santa is, but you don’t have a clue. Your Secret Santa’s never written a note to go with any of their gifts, and nothing about the gift-wrapping style – or lack thereof, with the first few gifts – has given them away. The only thing you know is that they haven’t been following your hyper-specific list to the letter. While everything they’ve gotten you has been on the list, it’s all been an upgrade from the versions you asked for.
So they’re generous and bad at wrapping gifts. That could describe half the office. You’d like to know who it is, and there’s free food, so you’re here. And if you might have dressed up a little more than you usually would for an office holiday party on the off chance that Tomura makes an appearance, you’re going to keep that to yourself. Nobody has to know. And you can have fun at the party whether or not he’s here.
It is a really nice party – probably the nicest one you’ve ever been to. The decorating committee went berserk, to the point where there are multiple live Christmas trees on each wall and food tables on either end of the ballroom, each stocked with its own chocolate fountain and champagne tower. There’s music, which Yamada apparently arranged for but isn’t actually performing. Yamada’s in a good mood. When you run into him while trying to grab a glass of champagne, he grins at you. “Next year. Acapella. Are you in?”
“Ask me next year,” you say. “Once the holiday spirit’s worn off.”
Yamada cracks up at that, snags two glasses of champagne, and speeds off through the crowd. You finally manage to separate one for yourself and get clear of the table. Half a glass of champagne later, you’re ready to mingle. Time to see if participating in the office’s holiday traditions as a way to make friends actually worked.
It feels like it did. People say hi to you, and when you stop to talk to them, it doesn’t feel awkward at all. You’re willing to admit that some of it might be because you’ve all been drinking a little bit, but at the same time, you’ve gone to office parties where people were drunker than this and still silent as the grave. Some of your coworkers have already found out who their Secret Santas are, and some of them are carrying gifts that look even more over-the-top unwrapped than they did when they were covered in festive wrapping paper. Maybe it’s better if Tomura doesn’t show up. You can find a bigger gift and leave it on his desk next week, and no one will have to know that you messed up.
You cross paths with Tomura’s friends here. They’re all dressed up, probably more than anyone else at the party, although it looks more like they’re here for a costume party than a Christmas party. “Like it? It’s an Enji’s credit card special,” Twice says, tugging at the lapel of his purple suit. “He really wanted Dabi to come home for Christmas this year.”
“Did you?” you ask Dabi.
“Yeah, but I brought everybody with me,” Dabi says. Everybody. Even – “Shigaraki, too. He hates this shit, but he never misses a chance to stick it to somebody else’s shitty dad.”
“It was fun this year,” Magne says. “Fuyumi made us our own stockings and everything. That thing was nicer than any of my actual socks.”
“It sounds fun,” you say.
“Could have been worse,” Dabi says. He glances at you. “What did you do?”
You didn’t, really, which is the other reason you’re here – Christmas alone in your apartment was fun or at least peaceful the first few years, but lately it’s been feeling lonely. “Not too much. I just slept in and then came here.”
Tomura’s friends exchange glances. “Next year you’ll hang with us,” Twice announces. “You can still sleep in. We always show up late anyway.”
“You don’t have to invite me,” you say at once. You must have sounded a lot more pathetic than you meant to. “And Twice, you probably shouldn’t invite me to Dabi’s house –”
“First, it’s not my house,” Dabi says. “Second, I invite whoever I want. The more of my friends I bring, the more uncomfortable I make my jackass of a father. As long as you don’t hit on my sister –”
“Come on, that was one time,” Twice protests.
“Yeah, one time too many –”
You sidle sideways out of the conversation while they’re still debating exactly how many times one of Dabi’s friends have made a pass at his siblings. Dabi probably didn’t mean the invitation. You won’t count on it. But it’s nice that they’re thinking about it tonight. Hearing it makes you feel a little better, even if it’ll evaporate well before next Christmas.
The party ebbs and flows around you. Sometimes there are people dancing, but other times, the music quiets enough to let people talk. There are fewer and fewer unopened gifts floating around. You see Spinner still toting his gift for Aiba, which means that Aiba’s either not here or he just can’t see her around the box. The latter seems more likely to you. She’s really tiny. No matter where you look, there’s no sign of Tomura.
You do find Aiba, though, when you stop by the chocolate fountain. You can’t tell if she’s trying to hide. “Hi,” you say, and she looks up. “He’s not here, if that’s what you’re worried about. I haven’t seen him.”
“He said he wouldn’t come to it,” Aiba says. She looks like she didn’t sleep well last night, but her outfit’s on point. “I’m not worried about him. I’m just not very – fun right now. I only came to it because I wanted to meet my Secret Santa.”
“Really?”
“I thought the Secret Santa was going to be ruined because of – him. But then I found out it wasn’t him,” Aiba says. You nod. “And that makes it – nicer, I think. All the gifts I got were perfect, and none of it had anything to do with him. So there’s still one part of my Christmas that’s nice. I want to say thank you.”
Spinner had better have a game plan. “They haven’t come to talk to me yet, though,” Aiba says. She frowns. “Do you think they’re even here?”
“I know they’re here,” you say. “If you stay here, I can go find them and tell them to come over.”
Aiba nods. “Thank you,” she says. “And thank you. For the other day. That was nice, too.”
“No problem,” you say. “Just stay there.”
Courtesy of the giant present, Spinner’s really easy to find. You give him specific directions to where Aiba’s standing, tell him to take it easy, and wish him luck. As you watch him go, you find yourself wondering what’s in the box. Maybe you should have asked. It would have given you a better idea about the kind of thing you should have gotten for Tomura.
“Hey.”
That’s Tomura’s voice. You turn and find him standing behind you, a haphazardly wrapped present in one hand. You feel a temporary surge of relief at the sight. He got something small, too. At least you aren’t alone in totally missing the boat. But then you take a look at the rest of him, and the relief evaporates into something you can only describe as a kind of awestruck surprise. Tomura cleans up nice. Really nice.
Like the rest of his friends, he’s dressed up. Unlike the rest of them, he went pretty standard with it – black suit and tie, although he’s got a red cape around his shoulders. It should be incongruous, but he makes it work. He’s done something to his hair. Brushed it, maybe. Either way, it looks good. You can’t help but stare.
But even though he looks great – he has to know he looks great, right? – he doesn’t look quite comfortable. Maybe because you’re staring at him, and you haven’t said a word. “You look really nice,” you say, and a faint flush comes up in his cheeks. “I didn’t know if you were coming. I know this isn’t really your thing.”
“It’s what you’re doing,” Tomura says, and your face turns red, too. “I want to meet my Secret Santa.”
That’s you. You and your stupid gift that’s too small. “Right,” you say. You fumble in your purse and pull it out, then offer it to him. At least you did a decent job wrapping it. “It was me. I’m your Secret Santa. Here.”
Tomura takes the gift, then holds out the one he’s carrying to you. You did a decent job wrapping it; he probably needs both hands to get it open. “The wrapping on this looks nice,” you say nonsensically while he picks at the tape on yours. “You don’t have to open mine right now. You probably want to give this to the person you were Secret Santa for.”
“I just did.”
It takes way too long for you to figure that one out. “Wait, it was you?”
“You didn’t guess?” Tomura looks almost affronted. “I figured out you were mine days ago.”
“How? Was it my handwriting on the notes?”
“No,” Tomura says. He gives you a weird look. “I wrote on my list that I hate the cold, but I don’t tell anybody that. The only way you would have known is if you got my list.”
“Oh.” You would have thought the thing that gave you away would be bigger than that – like getting too familiar in your notes, slipping up and using his given name and not going back to his surname when you realized your mistake. “Okay.”
“You really didn’t know it was me?” Tomura’s stopped trying to open your gift for the sole purpose of staring at you. “I thought Dabi gave me away. When he was talking about how shitty I am at wrapping gifts.”
You vaguely remember a joke Dabi made. You really shouldn’t have had so much champagne. “Sorry. I should have thought about it a little more.”
“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Tomura says. It’s quiet for a second. “A bad surprise?”
“No,” you say at once. “A good surprise. But – you could have just told me it was you. Then you wouldn’t have had to come to the party.”
“This is what you’re doing.”
“I know, but we could have done something else. Something you wouldn’t hate as much.”
“I don’t hate it as much as last year,” Tomura says. He nods at the gift. “Are you going to open that or what?”
“Yes,” you say. “Thank you.”
“Don’t say thank-you when you don’t know what it is,” Tomura says. “Just – open it.”
You don’t have any idea of what it could be. You know Tomura’s gone through everything on your list already. His wrapping job is easier to get through than yours. You peel back the paper and untie the ribbons and find yourself holding a hat.
It looks sort of like your hat. The one you gave him. But you found that hat on sale somewhere, ages ago, and this one is a lot nicer. Yours is just knitted, but this one has a soft lining, and the fabric on the outside feels like it might be water-resistant. It also has a goofy little pompom on it, which yours definitely doesn’t have. This isn’t anything you’d have bought for yourself. But you like it a lot.
You look up, ready to thank Tomura, and find him staring down at your gift, unwrapped in his hand. “You didn’t leave a note,” he says. “I like the notes.”
You’d facepalm if you weren’t holding the hat. “I thought I would just say what I would have said in the note to you. Face to face.”
He looks up. You’ve never seen that look on his face before. In fact, you’re not sure you’ve seen that look on anybody’s face – wary, expectant, maybe surprised, maybe hopeful. You should have planned what you were going to say a little better. Before you can say anything, though, Tomura speaks up. “How did you know about this game? I’ve been looking for it. Where did you even find it?”
“I found it on Ebay,” you say. “It wouldn’t have shipped in time, so I picked it up in person. I made sure to test it. It works. And as far as finding out about it – I asked Spinner about the kind of games you liked. I wanted to get it right.”
“I half-assed my list. Why would you try that hard?”
“I just – I don’t know,” you say. “I know Toga kind of bullied you into doing this. I wanted you to get something nice out of it. Sad Christmas might make more sense to you – and me, sometimes – but I thought it would be nice for you to have a happy one.”
That was a dumb thing to say. Tomura hasn’t told you a lot about his background – you’ve really only gotten close recently – but what you know isn’t good. It’s dumb of you to think that one video game and a handful of other gifts could rewrite any of that. You avert your eyes in a hurry. “Thank you for the hat. I didn’t mean to make you go off-list.”
“You didn’t make me do anything,” Tomura says. “I just thought you needed a new one. Since I’m keeping yours.”
Your heart skips a beat. “You are?”
“If you weren’t lying when you said it looked okay,” Tomura says. His hand brushes against your jaw, then applies pressure, turning you back to face him. He looks almost frustrated, but his face is flushed in a way you recognize. “And if you like me.”
“Do you like me?” you ask without thinking, and Tomura kisses you.
You’ve been regretting not giving him a real kiss under the mistletoe at work, but now you think it’s for the best that you didn’t. You haven’t had very many good first kisses, and you want a chance to savor this one. You wrap one arm around Tomura’s waist and pull him a little closer, and even though he startles, he keeps kissing you. He’s not hesitant, so you aren’t, either. There’s no way you’re going to be the first one to pull away.
When you do separate, it’s at the same time, and for what you’re pretty sure is the same reason. The music’s kicked back up. “Is that the stupid Grinch song?” Tomura asks, and you nod. He’s ever so slightly out of breath. He looks kind of flustered, but not nearly as much as you want him to. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“I mean, I could always sing All I Want For Christmas Is You again –” You see the face Tomura’s making. “I’m kidding. Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t care,” Tomura says. He unwraps your hand from around his waist, then keeps holding it as he leads you towards the doors. “It doesn’t matter, if you’re coming with me.”
The wind hits you in a sharp blast as soon as you’re outside, and you pull your new hat on one-handed. “Maybe somewhere warm?”
Tomura pulls on your hand, and when you turn towards him, he kisses you again. Now that you’ve got both your hands free and you’re not in the middle of a crowd, you can kiss him how you want to – one arm around his waist, your other hand gathering up a few strands of his hair. Tomura’s breath catches, and a moment later, so does yours, and although it takes a while for you to separate again, you’re both out of breath when you do.
Tomura doesn’t go far. His arms are tight around you, and when he answers a question you’ve almost forgotten, you can feel his breath against your skin. “I’m warm enough.”
the end
<- part xi
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football-and-fanfics · 2 days ago
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Christmas Morning - Trent Alexander-Arnold
Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Summary: A Christmas morning marriage proposal Word count: 1119 Warnings: none
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For weeks he'd been carrying the ring around in his pocket, just waiting for the perfect moment. Trent always felt that proposing to you needed to be perfect. Not because you demanded that, but simply because you deserved nothing less from him. Perfect for you, though, wasn't some huge spectacle or big party, it rather was something intimate with just the two of you.
Trent had had ideas over the past weeks, but when it came to the actual moment, it just hadn't felt right and he'd let the opportunity pass by.
Christmas Eve had come and gone, spent wonderfully with friends, and still that ring was in its box instead of around your finger. It had gotten to the point where Trent now couldn't catch sleep. Lying on his back in bed and staring up at the ceiling, his mind raced over new possibilities on how and when he could propose to you.
Trent slowly rolled his head on his pillow, glancing to the side where you slept soundly beside him. Words could not describe how much he loved you, and it bugged the hell of him that he couldn't seem to find the perfect moment to finally pop the question.
Trent shifted his gaze back to the ceiling. It would be Christmas morning soon, which you would spend together. Perhaps he would find the right moment then after all.
---
Trent had eventually fallen into an uneasy sleep. His dreams were filled with failed attempts at proposing or you turning him down.
It was your warm hand on his bare chest which finally woke him up. He looked around blearily for a moment. He still lay on his back, apparently having fallen asleep during his endless staring at the ceiling.
"You're restless," you mumbled. Trent swallowed hard, unable to tell you the truth, but wanting nothing more. "Yeah, uh... weird dream." You soothingly rubbed circles over his chest with your hand. He hummed softly, savouring the feeling. "It's snowing, by the way." An excited grin spread across your face. "Is it really?" Trent sat up, looking out your bedroom window at the white world outside and the snowflakes still falling. "Nice!"
You stepped out of bed and slipped into a bathrobe and some sweatpants. "I'm going to put your presents under the tree, make us some breakfast, and then I want to build a snowman." Trent chuckled at the excited twinkle in your eyes, as you trotted out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
Trent stepped out of bed, too. He put on a hoodie and also a pair of sweatpants. He hesitated. This snow was a gift he hadn't been expecting, but might finally make for an opportune moment for his proposal. Almost instinctively, Trent took the small box with the ring from its hiding place inside his bedside drawer, and hid it in the pouch of his hoodie.
---
As Trent stepped into your living room, the large windows offered a spectacular view of your snow-covered garden. His gifts for you were already under the Christmas tree, and you were just placing your gifts for him there as well.
For a moment, Trent just stood on the doorstep to your living room, watching you. Even with a ghastly, candy cane pink bathrobe on, oversized fluffy socks on your feet, and hair tied into a messy bun, you still were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And he was the lucky man to be by your side.
"Open that one first." Trent stepped into the living room, pointing to a medium-sized package wrapped in golden wrapping paper and with a red bow on top. "Are we opening presents yet?" You looked questioningly at him. He smirked. "Trust me, you'll want to open that one." You quickly took the package in your hands. "Oh, now you've got me curious."
You carefully peeled the bow off the package and stuck it in your hair, which made Trent chuckle softly. You meticulously plucked loose the sticky tape until the wrapping paper fell away. "Oh, you found it!" You gasped when you saw your present. It was a beautiful reddish brown scarf you had fallen in love with months ago, but which had been sold out almost everywhere since then. You knew Trent had gone to great lengths to get you this.
Trent stood a few feet to your side, in the middle of the living room, watching you glow with happiness as you unwrapped his present.
And suddenly he knew... This. This was the moment he had been waiting for all those weeks that ring had been sitting in his pocket. And now, with you sitting by the Christmas tree, in the comforts of your own home with just the two of you, and with the beautiful backdrop of snow still falling onto your already snow-covered garden, all the puzzle pieces fell into place.
Almost in a trance-like state, Trent reached into the pouch of his hoodie and pulled out the small box with the ring.
"I... I've got something else for you as well," he stammered nervously. You looked around at him, startled slightly by the sudden change in his voice. One look at him betrayed his nervousness, and the small box in his hands quickly explained why. "Oh... my god..." Your voice chocked up immediately as you slowly rose to your feet. You instantly recognized this for what it was.
Trent gulped a few times to find the breath to say what he wanted to say. "I'm not going to make a big speech," he finally started. "Because... no words can describe how much I love you and what you mean to me. I just know, with every fibre of my being, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you." His words were interrupted by a quiet sob of his own, but he quickly recollected himself. "So, I... I hope you feel the same way, and..." Trent slowly lowered himself onto one knee in front of you, holding out the ring. "Will you marry me?"
You clasped your hands over your mouth, tears of happiness streaming down your face. "Yes!" You exclaimed without any hesitation. Trent just had the time to stand up again, before you flung yourself at him and kissed him passionately.
"I was so nervous," Trent chuckled in relief once you released the kiss. He took the ring from the box and slipped it onto your finger. The fit was perfect and the ring absolutely stunning. "You thought I was going to say no?" You asked in surprise. "No, no, not that," Trent answered quickly, "I was so worried I wouldn't be able to find the perfect moment to actually propose." "Oh, sweetie." You lovingly cupped his face between your hands. "Don't worry, it was absolutely perfect."
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classicanalyzer · 3 days ago
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What If Season 3 - What If... Howard the Duck Got Hitched? Thoughts
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"And to think a romance that would change the world, all began at a party. An intergalactic blowout thrown by the party prince of Asgard himself...that introduced Earth to the stars...and Howard the Duck to Darcy Lewis... But Howard and Darcy's lives weren't the only ones changed by Thor's Midgard rager. The party may have ended but the guests never left, as the worlds of Earth and the Cosmos became forever intertwined, just like Howard and Darcy." Uatu
I honestly think the best way to describe this episode is Stan Pines, "I am so confused and so proud right now." This is truly What If at its most bizarre insanity in the best ways possible. I love this episode because of how heartwarming and odd it is. I'm still processing the insanity of this episode but it's peak. It's a very Christmas episode without the story being around Christmas.
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I was not expecting Howard and Darcy to be a wholesome, heartwarming couple, but here we are and I love it haha.
That Voromir resort was one of the darkest jokes in this show.
I love how this episode is just also an alternate take of Thor the Dark World with the Convergence.
I think the moment Kaecillius starts summoning Dormammu to use the Egg as a vessel is the moment where the insanity really goes off the rails in the best way possible.
Also, I'm not sure, but I felt that the Nick we saw in this episode isn't Nick Fury but Talos. I just felt some of Nick's words don't feel like Nick's. It felt very Talos rather than Nick but who knows?
It's refreshing to see a Loki who is thriving and not undergoing angst. He even has an actual normal relationship with his biological father. Party Thor's universe truly is the most funny and wholesome universe of this show.
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Loki, Laufey, Zeus (voiced by the Darin De Paul), Malekith, Kaecillius, the Black Order, the Grandmaster, and Thanos all in one scene feels so unreal and insane.
Kaecillius and Malekith interacting makes me laugh because we really just got two of the most blandest villains in one scene. It's really hilarious seeing Josh Brolin coming back to voice Thanos' surprise at the insanity going on. Ebony Maw's saying "It's magical?" is just the cherry on top.
The hatching Egg really went full Raiders of the Lost Arc at the end.
Byrdie is such a fitting name for their baby lmao. It was a pretty wholesome ending.
It's hard for me to say a lot about this episode because so much happened and yet all of it is absolute cinema. Yet again, another peak episode of this final season.
Note: Yet again we have another massive being towering over someone small (Dormammu and the Egg). Let's see what Episode 5 does lol.
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"Even in an endless universe, there's no place like home. And parents are the greatest heroes of all." Uatu
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blimbo-buddy · 2 days ago
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Daisuke = Satyriac
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A really easy decision to make, a lot of the Satyriac's cultures of always partying, living carefree lives and generally being outgoing really fits with his character. I would imagine though that not many Satyriacs in this universe would be apart of Pony Express due to the restrictions of the company. How Daisuke joined the company would likely change. But it still safe to say that he'd be a Satyriac
Scrapped alternative: Snake People - Because of their agoraphobic culture it didn't seem right to me to make Daisuke one. Of course, Daisuke being a Satyriac was always going to be the endgame but I wanted to think of who else he'd likely be.
Pterosapiens - I think the fact that they live to be just 23 makes me think that his parents would be rushing to get him some kind of job experience though because they're a more philosophical species focusing more on living generally, it made me think against this idea. Though still a depressing thought
Swansea = Tool Breeder
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With a human species as technologically advanced and baffling as the Tool Breeders I just had to make Swansea one. It's very self-explanatory why I made him one and there's no real deeper meaning behind it all. I imagine that he never truly gets used to the cold steel of the Tulpar, as he's used to living in organic, biologically modified homes. He may also need lots of accommodations due to being a semi-aquatic human species. He keeps his tools away from Daisuke because he's not gonna try and fucking repair a broken organism because some dumbass handled it too hard
Scrapped/Considered alternatives: None - I think he's one of the characters that is set to be one human species
Jimmy = Symbiote
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Yes, the little guy on the top of the host's head. Trust me I originally was going to go for another species but something about the Symbiotes just felt very "Jimmy-Esque" to me. Maybe it's the fact that the Symbiotes offered their hosts, "an ability to think in return of total submission". I also think that Jimmy would choose a nice but respectfully rough looking host, rough in the way that you'd imagine those respectful rough working-class people. It's also just funny to imagine little parasite Jimmy being flung around I'll be honest.
Considered Alternatives: Killer Folk - This was actually who I had in mind with Jimmy at first and I'd actually still consider making him a Killer Folk. But I think that the Symbiotes fit him just a bit more, but I'm not against switching his human species around
Anya = Snake Person
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So Anya as a character actually has a lot of options open with what she’d be. Much like Jimmy she’s a character whose assigned human species here can be any of the options given. In the end though I chose the Snake People purely because they generally remind me of her in some way. What really got me was the fact that they're described as being culturally agoraphobic, and one part of the definition describes it as, "extreme or irrational fear of entering open or crowded places, of leaving one's own home, or of being in places from which escape is difficult."
Considered Alternatives: Pterosapien - Definitely a really depressing option, due to the fact that the species only lives to 23 - because of heart disease- it'd really be a race against time for Anya to get into medical school. I also think that, due to her lack of opposable thumbs/hands, accommodations provided by Pony Express are the bare minimum and would really show how little they care about their employees
Bug Facers - Honestly I don't have a solid explanation for this. A part of me is a bit iffy on this because of the species' culture of xenophobia towards the others and the assault by Jimmy being some sort of "reason" for why Anya was wrong to join the other human species on the Tulpar or whatever
Curly = Killer Folk
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To me, the Killer Folk seem like the perfect generic human species and that somehow fits well with Curly. Not to call him generic though, I think that it's common to associate him with generic animals. He'd definitely be on the side of condemnation for old, conservative cultural beliefs. I also feel like if Jimmy was instead a Killer Folk as well, it would have Curly subconsciously gravitate towards his side more, as a strange instinctual bond as two Killer Folks
Scrapped/Considered Alternatives: None - Like I said, I feel like this "generic" human species works well for Curly in some way
you guys aren’t ready for my All Tomorrows x Mouthwashing crossover au
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cogcltrcorn · 4 months ago
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he should have been at the club. scarin the hoes by extremist polemics
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secondchoice-ragdoll · 7 months ago
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#T's “what did u call me? do u think whatever that is is hot? okay then good”#i love the tour pic above K!#and i love how they r still plucked abt not being in Dune2#K the avid winker...#its so cute how T is featured on this album of K's too😭😭😭#T wants to be left alone (on the phone) on her bday and K wants attention... well... ((once again relating to K))#T looked at Ks belly in a suprisingly like? soft way? idk i might have hallucinated that but who knows.#fuck whoever didnt visit K when she would have wanted them to.#its sweet how T visited her! (srsly cant u just communicate who wants what in this situation so its no suprise? ik its hard for them but😭)#T describing Ks party attending habits!!! they know each other soooo well🤭#aaagh how they have to act like they cant easily spend 2 hrs together having fun when they literally cant wipe the smiles off of their faces#(lesbians..... lovesick idiots.......)#oh they r always facetiming! so adorable :(#T was so excited that they r linked! like girl u do not need more confirmation for that research do u?😭#K watching the pod...... my heart......#why dont they just sit closer if they will reach across a whole fucking room to touch eachother?? like it sounds easier for me but u do u!#i really get a kick out of K mentioning TRHPS anytime she does it bc ik it was such a big thing in Ts life and ugh😭#constantly praising each other😭😭😭😭😭 what if i start sobbing huh#well maybe T is trying to get K to learn how to flirt so that she can practice on her? just an idea?😁#K putting her leg up on T?????? hi what? jist sit in the other's lap u creatures... its okay we can all look away for a sec if u need it...#their art! i fucking love it! both of it! its art at its finest🛐 and id kill to see a collection of their drawings bc cmon they r amazing!#its cute how they r talking abt smth and then they go “oh wait we were there together!”#its almost as if they actually spend time hanging out😱 (dont let the police know!!4!4)#“if we were on DR now-” okay but why r u still dreaming of that miss T?🤭🤭🤭 (who could blame her)#them watching the movies the other one recommends is the closest we can get to them watching an actual thing together (outside of NF)#also im so happy T spent time w K on her bday :(((#trixie mattel#katya zamo#tbatb#the brians
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here-there-were-dragons · 1 month ago
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my mother is absolutely convinced of some nonsense conspiracy theory that (in her words) "originally humanity lived in peaceful all-woman societies of goddess worshippers who took care of eachother and lived in harmony, while males were roving loners that had no society and never cooperated. that changed when the men banded together and overthrew the peaceful woman-dominated societies, and enslaved us all." and, according to her, this is proof that a woman-dominated world would be innately more peaceful, and that men are innately violent and evil and should be either barred from holding any legal power or leadership roles or at least should be (again in her words) "gelded like bulls" to remove their testosterone before even being considered for such a thing.
she also evidently believes that the problem with all religions today is primarily that they aren't "goddess worshippers", because she seems to think goddess religions are inherently peaceful and pure too and seems to be especially obsessed with "Isis" in particular. the very very few times she's openly considered it unambiguously bad for some population or another to have been exterminated (she's got a bad case of devil's advocating genocide brain), she's gone out of her way to make up some crap about how said people were a peaceful society of goddess-worshippers, almost always of isis. delusions of isis-worship seem to be the only thing that ever causes her to consider any arab or middle-eastern culture, society, or ethnicity to be relatively uncomplicatedly undeserving of extermination, in fact, because every fucking time she doesn't immediately start devils-advocating it and making remarks about how "the rest of the world should box them in and let them blow eachother up" it's when she's whinging on about how whatever specific micro-ethnicity she's thinking about are or were traditional persecuted isis-worshippers.
the sole major exception to her weird fixation on isis worship justifying worthiness of life is the whole israel thing going on, in which she has consistently made very obvious that literally the only reason she's against the genocide of palestine is because it gives her an excuse to even more openly hate jewish people than she already did. and honestly i'm not sure even that's true because i think she's made some offhand remarks about palestinians having probably been peaceful isis worshipers before the jews infected them with christianity or something anyway.
so for the last, however fucking long it's been i've been constantly having to listen to her go off about how this behavior is in the jew's blood or whatever and that they literally invented all genocide because somehow the concept didn't exist before them and wouldn't have ever been invented by the rest of humanity without those jewish aliens dropping it in i fucking guess apparently and she furthermore goes on about how every single genocide and mass-oppression movement in history is directly inspired by them, ESPECIALLY the nazis, and THEN i have to listen to her rant about how, basically, wwii was something they entirely brought on themselves by "dominating the economy and treating everyone not them like shit" and the nazis were just "using their own tactics back at them". and then she goes on a rant about how the people the original jews exterminated back in the day (aka the first ever genocide, which they invented, because jews invented genocide and hate according to her) in the middle east region were peaceful matriarchal isis-worshipers.
and then she starts making comments about arabs being backwards and palestinians either being mysogynist muslims that should be boxed in to blow eachother up with everyone else or secret peaceful isis worshippers corrupted by men's cruel hand, sometimes in the same sentence, entirely dependent on which group she's more in the mood to hate at the time.
it's exhausting. beyond exhausting. her sole purpose in existence seems to be to have the singularly most exhausting set of politics physically possible to fit into one person.
just, sometimes i think, if there really is anything at all to the incredibly stupid and inexplicably popular idea that anyone or anything has a Purpose tm to exist for, i feel like my mother's purpose is to be walking proof to me of a Type Of Guy That Is Real, cause i sure as fuck would have trouble inventing this mess if it wasn't standing right in front of me spewing confusingly bipartisan hate. all of her thoughts and opinions are these long winding nonsense chains that feel like if that man carrying thing sketch about the friend with confusing politics was a person. on meth.
#and sometimes i feel like she just believes whatever will allow her to hate and feel innately superior to the most people#the fact that this woman considers herself a leftist#... well. given what this country just voted for it looks unfortunately likely that she IS in fact a fairly average example of a leftist#and therefore i have zero remaining hope for or particular desire to save humanity#actually it kind of feels like the only reason she really aligns herself with “the left” is because she's a female supremacist#and the left is the closest thing to a movement in that direction compared to the only current alternate party's “lets undo women's rights”#and also she inexplicably hates trump despite constantly devils-advocating for him and how he “has some good ideas”#and yes she does specifically mean about immigrants and the wall. one of her staunchest positions is pro-closed borders#honesty if trump was a woman and not a misogynist sex pest i think she would like him a lot. even despite his blatant ignorance of economic#she's also a big “anti-wokeist” type and we can barely watch any movies anymore without her whining about there being black people in them#and then she's like “PEOPLE ONLY DON'T WANT TO WATCH MOVIES WITH ME BECAUSE MY THEORIES ARE ALWAYS RIGHT AND THEY'RE JEALOUS OF HOW SMART”#she's nominally anti-corporation but in practice tends to come down on their side and is also staunchly against student loan forgiveness#because she thinks that “anyone who's stupid enough to do that deserves it”#and “it would be a slap in the face to ME and everyone else that had to pay”#and “kids these days don't want to develop healthy financial habits so they can SAVE for things. i SAVED for it and i know how HARD it is”#the way she often talks i also increasingly feel like the only actual reason she hates christianity is because she's a female supremacist#especially since she regularly goes on about biblical things as if they're real and complains that god either must be a woman#because “only women can create”#or that god CLEARLY is a man because he's destructive and evil and Destruction is a Man Thing That All Men And Only Men Innately Do#and likes to talk about how “jesus said he would come back as the least of us so he would be a woman”#and then goes on to describe a woman that sounds suspiciously like her. or at least her perception of herself#she's also said that if she wasn't straight she would be a political lesbian by choice because she hates men so much#and has tried repeatedly to bitch at me about men in an “eyyy amirite sister” kind of way#and got mad when i didn't fancy the idea of sitting there joking with her about half the species being barely-sentient cancer nodes#but she ALSO identifies as sapiosexual despite having the most vanilla housewife smut book taste ever#but ALSO she considers every single other sexuality aside from straight and gay to be made up woke mental illness nonsense!#so according to her the only orientations are “normal”. gay. and sapiosexual. and SOMETIMES bi (but no pan or poly).#i'm fairly sure she's convinced asexuality isn't real and is just repression. she certainly acts like i never said anything every time.#unless she's explosively yelling at me for “always bringing it up” when i tell her to stop making jokes about me being attracted to things#and she thinks anything other than monogamy is “selfish” and “exists only for men to abuse women”. especially muslim and arab men.
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callmemanatee · 6 months ago
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The way most autism literature describes "literal interpretation" is often not at all similar to how I experience it. Teenage me even thought I couldn't be autistic because I've always been able to learn metaphors easily.
In fact, I love wordplay of all kinds. Teenage me was fascinated to learn all the types of figurative language there are in poetry and literature.
But paperwork and questionnaires are hard, because there's so much they don't state clearly. Or they don't leave room for enough nuance.
"List all the jobs you've had, with start and end dates." What if I don't remember the exact day or month? Is the year enough?
"Have you been suffering from blurred vision?" Well, if I take off my glasses the whole world is blurred, but I'm fairly sure that's not what the intake form at the optometrist is asking.
Or the infamous (and infuriatingly stereotypical) "Would you rather go to a library or a party?" What sort of party? Where? Who's there? I work at a library. Am I currently at the library for work or pleasure? Does it have a good collection?
It's not common figures of speech that confound me. It's ambiguity, in situations that aren't supposed to be ambiguous.
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suguann · 11 months ago
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Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 
"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”
The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.
"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.
Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.
He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.
"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”
You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.
Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.
His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”
Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.
“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.
Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.
Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 
“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”
Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.
“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”
Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.
Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"
You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 
"Ah, fuck—b-but–"
Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 
"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.
Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.
He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."
The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”
Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.
Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.
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probablyasocialecologist · 2 months ago
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Many Democratic elites appear to have landed on a familiar tactic: blaming everyone’s favorite scapegoat, Big Woke. Everywhere you look, you’ll see someone—often, but not always, on CNN—railing against the far-left extremists that supposedly held the party’s mainstream faction in its vise-like grip in 2024. There’s just one problem with this: the campaign these insiders are describing bears virtually no resemblance to the actual campaign we all just suffered through. They have simply invented an alternate universe out of thin air.
[...]
The ugly truth for these people is that Kamala Harris ran as right-wing a campaign as any Democrat in living memory. She downplayed discussions of her race and gender. She bent over backward to welcome billionaires, corporate titans, and Republicans into the fold. She told Black men that one of her priorities for them was…crypto. She made her past as a prosecutor a cornerstone of her pitch. She bragged about owning a Glock and joked that she would shoot people who broke into her house. She stuffed the Democratic National Convention to the gills with cops and Border Patrol agents while crushing even the tiniest dissent over her support for the genocide in Gaza. She promised the most “lethal” military in the world. She was seemingly joined at the hip with Liz Cheney for weeks. She even praised Dick Cheney! It’s hard to think of what more she could have done to satisfy the people clamoring for her to pander to conservatives.
11 November 2024
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ayo-its-monsterchomper · 1 year ago
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When I say I would do anything to read a book about this…
aksjsk guys I’m having THOUGHTS again.
warnings: ducon, non-fae creatures being kept as pets, fae being degenerate mfs pfft
Thinking about the fae courts and the glamorous parties they throw. Specifically their more debauched ones. The ones where they have their ‘pets’ - generally humans and mythical creatures - on display. You know how sometimes clubs have people standing on platforms dancing ? kinda like that.
Throughout the rooms the party takes place in, there are raised platforms where 1-4 pets are stationed. Just before the event starts an aphrodisiac perfume, that is MUCH more effective on non-fae, is released. While the fae who inhale it may feel a little more flirtatious, non-fae become overwhelmed with carnal desire.
As the fae nobility mingle - gossiping, and enjoying the food and company - they occasionally stop to observe the entertainment.
A solo human desperately fists his cock, panting, as the evidence of his many releases pool by his knees. Two humans crying out in ecstasy as one bounces up and down on the other.
And then of course there are the mythical creatures. Sometimes paired with each other but often paired with a delicate human.
A werewolf pinning down and mating its little human. A minotaur using one like a flesh light. Moans sound from a naga as her coils wrap round someone’s body drawing their cock in and out of her slit. Across the room snarls erupt as a dragon and chimera posture over who gets to pin down and fuck the pretty thing they’re grouped with.
All across the room wild and wondrous grouping provided and interesting backdrop as the fae make merry~
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neo-nomatrix · 6 months ago
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CAN’T TOUCH ME LIKE GOJO
what gojo does when he’s jealous
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cw - gojo uses red as a punishment, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, riding, teasing, kinda toxic gojo idk, bratty reader, rough gojo
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Gojo was making you mad, beyond livid. He had brought you to this stuffy gala full of his balding colleagues and ditched you! You found solace in the bar holding an aperol spritz staring at your husband. He was beautifully dressed cream suit with a million dollar smile as he talks to his coworkers about business.
He hasn’t even thrown you a glance since he left your side. Normally you would still be next to him acting as arm candy but for whatever reason he left you to drink your sorrows. You assumed you would be stuck there for another hour or two with nothing to do. Until Hiromi Higuruma approached you. A man you had no idea was even distantly related to Gojos company.
“Mrs.Gojo, a pleasure seeing you somewhere besides with Satoru,” The man teases.
“Hiromi! Are you here to save me from this awful night?” It seems the lord has answered your prayers.
“You’re not enjoying yourself? Doesn’t Gojo normally keep by him at all times?” He asks, taking a seat next to you.
“Something’s up with him I guess, I’ve barely seen him all night and it’s horrible!” You complain.
“Oh sweetheart, how could he possibly treat someone as pretty as you like that?” He moves a piece of your hair out of your face and stares at you.
“I know! I mean he invited me here, and then has the audacity to leave me,” You pout to him.
“For the record, I would never treat you like that,” he smiles at you.
You look over at Gojo and he still isn’t looking in your direction. You decide to tease both the men a little more.
“Really? Do you promise ‘Romi?” You give him your best doe eyes and touch his bicep.
“On my life, sweetheart,” You both smile at each other.
In the corner of your eye you see a head of white hair coming toward you. Panic sets in but you can’t help but rub your legs together. You continue putting your hands on Higurumas chest to further instigate the situation.
“Babe, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Gojo pulls the back of your stool so you can’t touch Higuruma anymore and he wraps a large hand around your waist, “Higuruma, you’re also here.”
“I was just talking to your gorgeous wife Gojo. After you left her alone to talk to those gross executives,” Higuruma says.
Gojos jaw clenched and he squeezed your waist. His look of disgust apparent on his face.
“I think it’s about time my wife and I leave. Should I call you a cab Higuruma?” Gojo says.
“I’ll be alright,” Higuruma laughs.
Gojo pulls you away from the bar and quickly takes you away from the party. He ignores everyone asking where he’s going or trying to talk to him. Immediately as he reaches the car he opens and slams the door for you. He doesn’t speak a single word on the way home, despite your efforts to start conversation.
As you reach your home he’s immediately getting you through the door and up the stairs, he shoves you onto the bed as he removes his jacket. You hear him muttering swears under his breath.
“Do you enjoy being a slut who pisses me off? Hm? I mean really, what possibly do you get out of this?” He starts to undo the first few buttons of his shirt before he grabs your chin.
“I asked you a fucking question,” He growls at you.
“You left me! You left me all alone! I don’t know what you wanted from me, to just sit there twiddling my thumbs until you came back?” You argue at him, giving a big pout.
“What I don’t want is for you flirting with that piece of shit in front of everyone? You know how embarrassing that is, not only for me, but for you?!” He slips off his boxers to reveal his semi hard cock.
He pulls you up and puts you on your knees. He’s on his back and your face is inches away from his cock. But before you can wrap your lips around him something stops you. A force you can’t describe, red. He activated his repelling force to punish you.
You’re confused, upset, even angry at him. His usual punishment involves him overstimulating you but apparently not this time. You try to get past the barrier, using all your might to touch his cock. Yet nothing works, he’s the strongest after all.
“What did he call you?” He asks you, releasing red for you until you almost touch him, then activating it again.
“Sweetheart…” you whisper to him.
“And you fucking let him. That’s the part that pisses me off the most. I know he can’t have you, fuck, he knows it. But it doesn’t seem like you do,” He says back, piercing blue eyes scanning your face.
You crawl on top of him, the barrier between your pussy and his cock still apparent. You try desperately to grind down on him to no avail. Tears start to form in your eyes but Gojo doesn’t seem to care.
“You want it inside you, sweetheart? Or do you want ‘Romi?” He mocks you.
“YOU! I just wanted your attention, promise! I got so mad you left me by myself. See?! All i want is you,” You whine as Gojo smiles at you.
In a moment the red hue turns blue and you get sucked down onto his perfectly aligned cock. You’re stuck to him like a magnet. His size makes you scream and want to pull away, but you can’t. As soon as you pull away you’re sucked back onto him, you thought torture wasn’t supposed to be addicting.
“Fuck Higuruma, fuck him and all the stupid guys there. You thought i wasn’t paying attention to you? I wanted you so fucking bad I had to stay away or else you’d be on the floor with my cock inside you,” He grunts, hands gripping your waist.
“Toru! It’s too much!” You’re full on sobbing at this point, legs shaking and body sweaty.
“You don’t want him right? It was just to make me mad, right baby?” He asks you desperately, his hair falling perfectly in front of his eyes.
“Yes! I just wanted you to fuck me, I swear,” You squeal.
His hips rut into your sloppy cunt as both of you moan and pant like two bunnies in heat. His fingers expertly tease your clit and he sucks blue and red hickies on every part of your body. He’s holding you as close as possible. His thrusts get sloppy and his moans get slutty.
“Gonna cum inside you baby, gonna fill my pussy up everyone’s gonna fucking know you’re mine,” He says in your ear.
“I’m gonna-“ Before you can even finish your sentence you pulse around his cock cumming so hard you see black.
He follow not long after, spurting hot ropes of cum inside you. He gets as deep as possible to ensure nothing slips out. He releases the technique and you fall on top of his chest, breathing like you just ran a marathon.
“Holy shit baby, that was so good,” He says, smiling.
“Yeah… i wanna take a bath,” you look up at him.
“Okay my love, just promise me one thing. Never make me jealous again.”
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amplexadversary · 1 year ago
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gah the group is doing WWN and their necromancers are SO COOL but I already had a character concept
I ended up making two characters and asked the GM to kidnap one at the start of the game (the one that synergizes less with the party).
I'm doing the character in distress entrance (which I have wanted to do since before 2017, when I saw Critical Role and my desire to do it sharply increased) with the remaining one, but he's the healer. So. That's great for the rest of the team.
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ebodebo · 6 months ago
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Tough As Nails—Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy
thinking about cowboy!simon riley… MDNI | part one |
next ->
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He had become a nuisance. A pest, a headache. Every single adjective you can think of to describe a pain in the ass he was.
Your father's ranch hand, whom he hired all of six months ago, had become something of a bother, an inconvenience to you. He was annoying and stubborn. Narrowed his eyes at you too often for your liking. Scoffed when you would correct him. And scolded you when you would have people on the property when your parents would leave town—even going so far as to kick your guests off the property altogether.
But tonight would be different; it was the Fourth of July. You would happily throw your party in the barn your family owns, on the property they own. You weren't going to let him order you around tonight.
"What the hell is all of this?" Simon seethed, taking in the concrete floor covered in empty beer bottles and spilled grain. His booming voice caused some partygoers to straighten up, though no one dared to speak.
He clenched his jaw at the lack of cooperation. "Huh?" He paused, his fists clenching so hard they began to turn white.
"So, no one can speak?" He walked over to a guy sitting on a bale of hay, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and yanked him off the hay tossing him aside.
"Get the fuck off my hay." He gritted to the guy.
"Where is she?" All he could think about was the little pain in his ass who was responsible for this. The guy he pulled off the hay immediately pointed towards an old wooden outhouse away from the barn.
Simon rolled his eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. "If I come back and any of you are still here." He looked over everyone.
"I will not hesitate to shoot you for trespassing."
Safe to say, everyone in the barn scrambled out of the barn at that very second. Simon turned on his heels and stalked over to the outhouse, where he saw you leaning up against the outside with a guy's hands roaming your body, making out.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" You jumped at the sound of his voice, pushing the guy on you off your body.
"Sim—"
"Don't." He moved closer, standing directly in front of you, pointing his finger at you. "Don't Simon me."
"It's the Fourth of July, Simon. Lighten up."
"Do you realize your idiot friends spilled hundreds of dollars worth of grain and fucked with your dad's equipment?" All he had to do was glance at the guy just kissing you for him to go scurrying off.
"Shit, I shouldn't have left them alone. I wasn't thinking." You curse, looking up at him to meet his eyes.
"Ya, you're right." He stepped closer.
“You don't think." He gritted out before continuing.
"You're impulsive. Reckless."
Your eyes widen at his words. Who does this guy think he is? "Don't forget you work for me."
He lets out a deep, dry chuckle. "Actually, I work for your dad." 
"Whatever." You scoff as you take a step to walk past him.
"We are not done talking." He reaches out to grab your wrist; you swiftly turn your head to look up at him.
"I'm done listening to you." You grit out, eyes full of anger.
"Oh, is that it?" He scoffs out as you take a step away, only to trip over a wide hole in the ground, making both of you topple over, him falling on top of you. He's quick to plant a hand on the ground before, so his entire body weight isn't on you.
After you recognize the pain from the fall, you look up at Simon, who's on top of you, eyes boring into yours. Your pulse increases at the proximity, and your breath becomes more shallow.
His eyes blazed with fury, yours full of irritation. You can't help but glance at his lips, hovering not too far away from your own. This little action made him lose it. His self-control was already hanging on by a single thread, and the look you gave was what finally cut through. His lips crashed onto yours with such force that it took your air away.
It wasn't gentle or tender. It was desperation, months of built-up vexation. It was downright sinful.
You gasp once his lips meet yours but quickly return the sentiment. Your hands move to glide through his light hair, gently tugging on the roots, making him groan.
He yanks his cowboy hat off as he grips your waist to flip you so you are now on top of him, straddling his waist as he sits up.
"I thought you didn't like me." You smugly remark as he connects his lips to the side of your neck, and his hands start undoing buttons on your top.
"Like has nothing to do with this." He murmurs into your neck, lightly nipping at your sensitive skin, making you sigh.
"Keep telling yourself that, Cowboy." You jest, grabbing the back of his neck bringing him back up to your lips, already greedy for another taste of him.
He continues working on undoing your top buttons as his tongue collides with yours, and your teeth graze his own.
He cups your breast over the fabric of your bra as soon as he gets the buttons undone, making you whimper. His hand slips down to grip the fat of your ass as he leans in so his lips are lightly grazing your ear.
"You do it on purpose, don't you?" You could feel the roughness of his voice so close to your ear. You leaned into his lips grazing your ear.
"Do what?" You breathe out as his hand roams from your ass to the front of your belt, gently unclasping your belt buckle.
"You playin' dumb now?" He questioned, gently nipping at your ear lobe. The sensation made you let out a low moan before roughly grabbing his face and connecting your lips back to his.
He matched your hungry kiss, reciprocating an even hungrier one of his own as he tossed your belt off to the side and slid off your pitiful excuse for jean shorts down past your thighs.
He quickly undid his belt buckle and threw it off to the side, sliding his jeans down.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." You breathe out, reaching between the two of you to release him from the confines of his boxers.
His mouth went dry at your touch. "Do what exactly?" He choked out as you carefully pumped him up and down.
"Ride you." You casually said as you slipped your already-soaked thong to the side to accommodate him. He could have come at your words. He almost did, but a quick relay of the steps to clean an AR-15 suppressed the urge. 
You grip him and slip him inside your dripping cunt, hissing at the contact. He grips your hips and gently sinks you lower, groaning as you grind into him. 
He brought his face closer to plant deep, wet kisses on your lips before groaning into your mouth as you continued your movements. "Fuck. Just like that." 
Your entire body erupted with goosebumps, and your nipples hardened at the sentiment. You grip his shoulders tightly, but before you pick up your pace, you hear a familiar truck pulling up to the gate of your family's ranch.
"Is that—" You begin before he thrusts into you, making you moan and throw your head back.
"So fuckin' sensitive." He leaned into your exposed neck and licked a strip up to your lips that were slightly parted. 
"Better come quick, sweetheart." He pants, gently bouncing you up and down on his cock, fingers digging into the tender flesh on your hips. 
"Wouldn't want your parents to see you riding me. Would you now?" You let out a pathetic whimper, bringing your hand down to swirl circles on your aching clit, while he wraps a strong arm around your waist to hold you in place as he drills himself into you.
Each thurst, each swirl of your finger, made you feel a sense of nirvana you didn't even know was possible to get to. It was pure bliss. That and his dirty tongue were spewing such filthy words that were making you wetter than you ever knew was possible.
"Tell me you're about to come because—” His pleading voice sends a final wave of heat through you.
"Fuck. Yes, I'm coming." You yelp, slipping your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light roots again. He silently curses as he comes, gripping you tighter and pressing your chest against his own.
By the time both of your orgasms subside, he silently and gently eases you up to assist you in pulling your thong and jean shorts back on. Then, he casually fixes his jeans and grabs his belt to put back on.
You glance at him, picking up his cowboy hat from the ground and carefully wiping off some dirt that had gotten on it. Though he doesn't slip it back on his head, as a shock to you, he places the hat on your head. It was a little big on you, so it fell a bit more in the front, slightly covering your eyes.
"Keep it.” He says, bending down to pick up your belt and buckle, gently slipping it around your waist and clasping it. He gently pats the buckle clasped in the front, then looks down at you before speaking.
"You earned it."
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a/n: who the fuck even wrote this
reblogs & comments are encouraged!
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elssero · 5 months ago
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seven minutes in… heaven?
k.bakugo
♰ nsfw/suggestive, third year bakugo x f!reader, dry humping..? both characters are drunk but fully consent!
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evanescence blasts through your phone as you do the final finishing details of your makeup, your cutting the crease of your liner while jirou sat next to you clips some of her hair back with the little music note hair piece you had picked up for her last week. your excited for tonight, it’s been awhile since the whole class of 3A had gotten together like this.
it’s a celebratory party for the end of a month long project you had all been putting all of your time and effort into, so much so to the point that nobody had really spent any time together, so to say that everyone was bubbling with anticipation was an understatement.
well everyone except bakugo of course, according to jirou he had been grumbling all week about this stupid party and how he’s being forced to go by stupid kirishima because of some stupid bet he lost last month. apparently he’d much rather stay in his room all night and pop a couple sleeping pills to ensure he wasn’t involved in the the night at all.
he just hates parties, he doesn’t understand why something so small as finishing a project deserves an entire class get together. he would much rather have a small, controlled hang out with the close group of friends he’d found himself growing fond of over the past few years.
you, of course ignore his complaints because the only word to describe how your feeling right now is ecstatic, it’s no surprise to anyone that you loved a good party and seeing that you had worked extra hard on this particular project you felt as though you owed it to yourself to let a little loose.
after deciding you are completely happy with the way you look and having taken a shot of some pre-drink with jirou, you link the girls arm and leave your dorm, you make your way to the common room arm and arm with the increasingly nervous girl beside you, you whisper a few encouraging words as you continue to lead her to, you can see that people have already started gathering, drinks in hand.
you decide for jirous sake to make a b-line to mina, kaminari and sero who are slumped together on one of the couches around the room.
mina wastes no time pulling you both into a hug “you both look amazing! ah- i can’t im so excited we’re all here tonight!” you can tell she’s already tipsy by the way she slightly stutters and her voice raises at the end of her sentences.
you hug her back just as excitedly, you love mina, she shares your excitement for the little things and you can’t help but feel drawn to her because of that, it’s clear to everyone around you that you two were just made to be friends.
kami gets up next, he throws a lazy arm around jirous shoulder and compliments you both on your outfits of choice, you can’t help but chuckle a little at his behaviour, he’s always been a bit of flirt, especially with jirou, you can’t help but smile at the sight when jirou leans into his hold slightly.
sero, now stood directly in front of you pulls you into tight hug, seros a close friend, if anything probably your closest after mina and jirou and definitely the person your physically closest with. he is your friend and definitely only that, despite the looks that your weirdly physically close relationship gets from your classmates, but the line at least in your head is definitely drawn and you don’t dare cross it.
you mingle for abit, finishing off your first drink and eagerly getting your second, your sat in a circle now with most of your class, some sat on the floor and some sat on furniture, you’ve somehow ended up in a full class discussion despite the buzz that fills the room. your listening to the class debate their most embarrassing moments when a loud but cheery voice drags another loud but not so cheery voice into the room.
“hey everyone! sorry we’re late it seems that bakugo had forgotten about tonight” kirishima grins as bakugo starts mumbling incoherent complaints. “but alas, no worries as i made sure to remind him!” kirishima continues to ignore bakugos clearly sour mood as he pulls the blond to sit across from you and sero, who’s now drunken head is now resting on your shoulder, they would definitely be sat next to you guys but kirishima doesn’t wish to disturb the circle so he takes the only free place.
people exclaim welcomes as you smile at the red head, he sends a smile back and a quick look at sero who seems to be making himself pretty comfortable pressed up against you. bakugo doesn’t even lift his head while he sits down, it’s clear he wishes for this party to be over just as quickly as it can start.
“let’s play a game!” it comes from uraraka in the corner as she leans into the center of the circle to get everyone’s attention. “oh yeah? what do you suppose we play?” midoriya this time, slurring, who’s clearly a little drunker than he should be seeing as your only an hour or so into the get together. denki cheers out in the corner and catches everyone’s attention as he quickly finishes his beer and places it in the middle of the circle. “we’re playing seven minutes in heaven.” a wide smirk on his face as he watches everyone agree, you’d maybe think he’d be suggesting this is a way for him to get some but you disagree, you know kami lives for drama and a game like this is surely to brew some up.
people settle into positions and sero finally raises his head from the crook of your neck, you know he’s a merchant of drama and he seems to agree this some in definitely incoming as he awaits the first spin.
tsu goes first as peer pressured by her friends and lands on uraraka, you see a small blush appear on the brunettes features and you wish them good luck as mina shuts the closet door behind them, your all warily keeping it down a little, making little jabs at one another and chuckle quietly, you hear a giggle from the closest and you all burst into laughter, unable to keep quiet anymore as you let the girls finish their 7 minutes.
your unable to remember who goes next but it was surely insignificant, you can feel the alcohol now at your forgetfulness, you join conversation with your friends and await the next spin as the pair who you now see is momo and shinsou leave the closet calmly, it’s clear to everyone that nothing of interest happened which only proves a suspicion you’ve had about momo for awhile, whatever though it’s not your business.
very suddenly and very much to your surprise mina edges you forward to spin the bottle next, your not really sure why, it’s not like your dying to get some, infact your doing pretty well for yourself so her eagerness for you to spin next is unidentifiable to you but alas you don’t argue and you shift, almost crawling on all floors to reach the bottle and spin it harshly, watching as it continues to go round and round.
when it’s completely slowed down you follow the tip of the bottle and realise it’s pointing directly in front of you, you continue to look up and you lock eyes with a shocked pair of red ones. without thinking you stand up and hold a want out too him to help him up. he looks up at you in only complete shock as he grits out “i’m not fuckin’ doing this shit, didn’t fuckin agree to it” you don’t falter, now used to his attitude “what are you scared bakugo? the great katsuki bakugo scared of seven minutes alone with me?”
he gapes at you, jaw dropped and he falters for a second. maybe he is scared. he contemplates for a second before grabbing your hand and letting you help him up, he follows as you guide him into the closet and shut the door behind you.
he huffs at the proximity between you, he’s always been huge but the past few months you can tell he’s been bulking up even more, if that’s even possible. there’s barely enough space for the two of you, your tits are slightly pushed up against him as your back hugs the wall of the closet.
“we don’t have to do anything” you whisper out, slightly slurred due to your drink intake. “we can just chill in here if you’d rather that.” he doesn’t respond and you take a moment to observe him, his cheeks are flushed, either due to the lack of space between the two of you of the alcohol, it’s probably both.
“well it’s not like you can do anything anyway” he spits out and you give him a puzzled look “what do you mean i can’t do anything? you think m’ allergic to kissing people or something?” he chuckles slightly at that, you feel a little twinge of pride, you’ve always been able to do that, draw small chuckles out of the man in front of you. you’ve been able to lock down on what draws it out of him and being mouthy certainly seems to do the trick.
“na… y’know your with tape arms and stuff dno’ why you even came in here with me, dno’ why you even spinned that bottle” now it’s your turn to chuckle at him, did he seriously believe that you and sero were together? like an actual item? did other people believe that too? you swore up and down you’d made it very clear that was not the case. “me and sero are definitely not together” you giggle slightly as you say it, he doesn’t respond so you continue “he’s a very close friend of mine and i know we’re a little touchy but we’re definitely not seeing each other” his eyes seem to dart up to you as you finish your sentence, the words clearly settling in.
“why do you guys act like that them?” he sounds almost… defected? it’s a tone you can’t quite figure out. “m’ not sure, it just kinda happened one day and became the norm for us i guess” he lets out a slight hum and you settle into silence briefly before he speaks. “so why-” he cuts himself off, cursing quietly before continuing “so why did you come in here with me?” he gets quieter as he continues to speak, he’s nervous. that much is entirely obvious to you even in your drunken state. you look him in the eyes when you answer him this time “well what usually happens when you entire a closet with someone during this game bakugo?” his breath seems to quicken at this and you feel his chest moving faster against your own, quickly reminding you of the contact between you two as you glance down at your tits still pushed against his chest, the sight sets a blush across your cheeks, bakugos eyes seem to follow yours as an even bigger red blush appears across his face.
“i already said before that we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want too, but that doesn’t mean i don’t want too.” you explain it too him calmly, you are not inexperienced, not in the slightest but though his actions it’s telling that bakugo may be- giving you the upper hand.
“no-“ he ushers it out quickly “no- i think- i think i want too” you watch as his blush deepens even more, it’s cute you think, nothing like how he usually is, you quite like him like this.
you take this as an opportunity to lift your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards you, you stop as his lips are hovering slightly above your own. “you gotta let me know if you want me to stop” he nods quickly and you take that as confirmation, you take a tight grip on his hair and force his lips down to meet your own, he immediately groans at the impact, rushing to place heavy hands on the side of your waist, wasting no time as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.
your forcing your tongue down his throat and he groans again, you immediately feel him already against your thigh and you wonder how long he’s been hard like that. he kisses you like he’s starved, attempting to push himself even closer to you, it appears he’s fighting for dominance until you pull slightly on his hair and he melts into you with another noise bubbling in his throat- a whine almost exhales him and in that moment you decide your pulling a proper whine from him that night, it might be the best thing you’ve ever heard.
far too suddenly for your liking the door swings open, revealing to your entire class the compromising position you and bakugo are in, he nearly screams at the suddenly light shining in his eyes. you make eye connect with mina and her jaw drops. bakugo immediately disconnects with you and you find yourself missing his warmth. your bombarded with questions as bakugo takes your hand in his and rushes you both out the closet, ignoring the pleas from your classmates.
“party’s over for me shitty hair” bakugo shouts at kirishima, not even taking a glance in his direction as he storms you both, still hand in hand past the crowd of your classmates and towards the stairs. “you fuckers have a good time down here or whatever, we’re going up to bed.” he smirks at this, pulling you even faster through the hall.
“have a great night everyone!” you shout as you look back at your friends, they’re mouths gaping in complete shock, you send them a wink as you turn back to bakugo, speeding to catch up with him. happily following him up to his dorm. luckily for you, you’d turned around too quickly to see the defeated look on a certain black haired classmate of yours as he watches you be dragged even further away from him by a boy he knows has shared the same crush he’s had on you since your first year at ua.
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AHHHH BAKUGO FIC!!! i’m considering making this a little series because i can’t get seven minutes in heaven with the mha characters out of my head. not proofread yet so if there’s mistakes then there’s mistakes!
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