#they both are so so so bad at taking care of themselves.. it makes it so funny to watch them take care of each other

[harmoonix]

Christmas Observations

🎄 One thing I observed at Aries placements is that they don't like it when the people around them are slow. They like everything to be fast and easy

🎄 Moon in earth signs gives me the vibes of a person nurturing everyone around them. That person who takes care of you when you are at your lowest

🎄 Capricorn houses may also indicate an area in your life where you need to finish something.

1st house - finishing topics about finding yourself

8th house - finishing topics on finding your inner power and rebirth after a painful situation

2nd house - finish financial debt. Never ask for money from others be independent

12th house - ending a karmic cycle that involves healing/subconscious trauma

6th house - focus on yourself, finish being critical about your needs

7th house - finish a karmic relationship/healing after a painful breakup

🎄 Capricorn/Aries/Scorpio and Sagittarius Sun/Rising/Venus are giving untamed energy. Is it not easy to make them follow you or to change them

🎄 Leo, Libra and Pisces placements can give you beautiful face features, eyes, lips, even hair, nose, etc

🎄 The Chiron sign in your parents birth chart can indicate what pain or wounds they have in this life and how it can manifest

🎄 If you have Pluto aspecting Mercury, sometimes you can regret the words you say to others because they tend to be quite painful/straightforward with their words

🎄 Cancer and Scorpio in the 7th house are big indicators that you want your partner to take care of you/to be nurtured, and to be understood emotionally

🎄 Leo/Sun in your 7th house can indicate you desire to be seen by your partner. People can overshadow you and you sometimes may not get the attention you need

🎄 Chrion x Venus aspects can often indicate the person who is hurt romantically/hurt in a relationship/love. Also someone who has a hard time to understand love

🎄 12th & 6th house placements can put so much pressure on your mental health, especially if Pluto/Neptune or Saturn are involved

🎄People who have stellium in the 8th house often experience deja-vu moments, can also be triggers from the past or from bad people

🎄 If you have a high aspected Neptune in your chart, people can suck the energy out of you. People can feed with your energy, and you can become drained

🎄 9th house placements are very wise when considering decisions in their life. They will think 100% with their brain instead of heart. They can also be guided by older people

🎄 Capricorn Placements Sun/Moon/Rising like to be independent from a young age. They don't really like to rely on others and prefer to do it themselves alone.

🎄2nd house Venus can do well financially. They can be blessed with both beauty and money, but also beauty in their words/inside and out

🎄 Aquarius in your 7th house can indicate getting with a partner who is highly independent and friendly. You can have many things in common yet be so different

🎄 Moon x Moon synastry is not for the weak!! ESPECIALLY IF IS IN HARSH ASPECTS!! You won't do well in understanding each other fulfilments in a relationship

🎄 If your moon makes an opposite aspect with another moon (ex cancer x capricorn moon), you can expect a lot from the other person to not understand your emotions/how you feel

🎄 If you have high Saturn aspects in your chart, life gets better once you get older. You can feel like living in hell while you're younger, but it gets better with the years

🎄 You can indimidate others once your Lilith makes an aspect with their sun or rising. They will feel also more curious about you

🎄 Venus in Fire signs can get more into situationships than real relationships, is ride or die with them. And they need 100000 years to think if they want a relationship or not. Once you're in a relationship with a fire Venus, they will change their energy in a more passionate/romantic one

🎄 Pisces/Neptune in your 7th house, what I love about these placements is that they create such strong bonds with their partners. Something that can last a lifetime

🎄 Mercury x Pluto aspects natives are good liars,they have a very mischievous energy surrounding them. Like a fox, which is very a unpredictable animal

🎄 Neptune x Mars natives can often have fights with their inner demons. Wanting to live in your own reality but being forced to live on earth

🎄Mercury ruled moon (Gemini, Virgo) can become quite anxious when they don't have a 2nd plan for a situation. Everything needs to be planned and calculated before

🎄 Aries/Mars in your 7th house can be an indicator for wanting to have a passionate & succeeding partner. Like you want someone who will never leave your side

🎄 Your moon sign can also tell you lots of things about how your mother felt when she was pregnant/before the time you were born, if she was anxious/scared, excited, and so on

An early Christmas post 🎄🎄 enjoy!! Happy holidays to everyone 🥳🎄 by @harmoonix 💋🥳

[ripeandsoft]

Hi Monae how are you babes? Can I request for terry and his wife having sex for the first time since their baby was born and she was trying to cover up her post baby body after having her baby.

🥺

A/n: I’m good baby! I’m so sorry this took so long, me and my brain weren’t friends lol. Please accept this as an early Christmas gift and apology! I hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated 💕

Content warnings: mentions of postpartum insecurity, gentle sex?, oral, a spank or two (i couldn’t help it), mirror sex, fluffy sweetness all around, also barely proofread oops

—

“Diapers, bottles, bibs, pacifiers…” You paced around the nursery as you packed your daughter Josie’s diaper bag. She was laying in her crib, fresh from the bath and drifting off to sleep under the musical chime of her mobile. Terry was quiet as he ambled up the stairs with extra clean bottles and formula. The shadow of you flitting around her room like a mad woman on the hallway wall made Terry laugh. This was Josie’s first time being away from you guys for two whole nights and your nerves were through the roof.

“Calm down baby, you know my mama will take good care of her” Terry sat the bottles and formula on the dresser next to her bag, coming up behind you to rub his hands soothingly down your arms. You leaned back into him and you closed your eyes to take a deep breath. You couldn’t help but be anxious. This was the longest you’d be away from your baby since she was born. You knew Mrs. Richmond wouldn’t let a curl on Josie’s head be touched but your nerves were still crackling with anxiety.

“I know, ‘m just nervous” Your words were hushed as you turned to loop your arms around his waist. “I’m glad we’ll have some alone time. Maybe even get some good sleep, give the baby monitor a rest for the weekend” Terry rocked the both of you back and forth in his embrace. You hummed against him, the warmth of his body against yours making your eyes close in comfort.

Soft gurgles spilled from Josie’s mouth as she shifted positions in her crib, her noises causing you and Terry to separate. “I’ll finish packing up here. You go start the car.” You ordered Terry gently with point of your finger. He nodded dutifully, giving both you and Josie a soft kiss on the cheek.

—

“I’ll miss you babygirl” You cooed at Josie, rubbing her chubby cheek with your thumb. She nuzzled against the contact while she smiled with all her gums. “Y’all better get out of here so I can spend time with my baby” Mrs. Richmond started to usher you and Terry out the door, eager to spend time with her granddaughter. “Can’t we say bye?” Terry asked.

“No you can’t. Now get before them roads get bad.” Mrs. Richmond nodded to the window, swirls of flurries falling outside.

—

It felt weird to be in your bathroom alone. When Josie is fussy but you need to shower you bring her with you, letting her rest in her bouncer while you clean up. Terry often joins you when you’re doing your hair or taking off your makeup. You were never really alone these days, not since Josie was born. Even when she’s not with you physically her presence crackles through the baby monitor seemingly attached to your hand. You’d heard of women who become so consumed with their families that they lose themselves, but that isn’t happening to you.

Right?

All you could think about was a hot shower. Your clothes were strewn across the floor, a fabric trail leading to you standing at the sink. You pulled your braids up into a ponytail before wrapping it up in a fat bun. The counter was cold as you bent down to rest your elbows on it, filling your palms with water so you could wash your face. Before you could reach for the cleanser, your husband slid his hands around your hips.

“Can I help you sir?” You asked him through the mirror, water dripping down your neck to your chest. “Mhm, you sure can” Terry’s voice rumbling low in your ears. His strong hands rubbed over all your soft parts—stomach, hips, thighs, tits, ass. You sighed at the feeling, leaning back into him. But before you can get lost in your man, the quiet part of your mind speaks up.

You’ve never been a stranger to stretch marks, cellulite, dimples, pimples, or moles. All these things came with your figure and you had come to love them. Growing your babygirl gave you immense pride in your body and you wouldn’t trade your pregnancy experience for the world. Being a mother was wonderful journey but every journey has its ups and downs, and these postpartum stages were mostly down. The things you once loved about your body have become insecurities.

“I need to take a shower” You pressed yourself into the sink to create space between you two. “Can I join you?” Terry asks. You avoid his hand reaching for you, side stepping him and going to stand by the shower. “No, thank you baby but I got this one by myself” Your lips quirk up in an awkward smile, your hands shielding your breast and stomach from his watching eyes.

Terry frowned, the crease in the middle of his brows growing deeper as he examined your behavior. You never shy away from his touch whether it’s sexual or not. You’ve been somewhat avoidant recently. Not necessarily detached or distant but just…not the same. It was strange.

“Go lay down” Terry instructs, nodding towards the bedroom. Your mouth opened to retort but the look in Terry’s eyes made the words seep into your tongue. You obeyed wordlessly, feelings his eyes follow your every movement.

—

“Don’t look away” Terry spoke against you, mouth full of your wet pussy. His head could be seen from between your cheeks, the mirror that normally leaned on your bedroom wall now closer to the bed propped on its thin stand. Your eyes watered in pleasure as his tongue swirled around your clenching hole. The silver band of your wedding ring dug into your skin as you held onto the sheets tight.

His lips were soft against you, vibrating with his own moans as he feasted on you. “Terry baby ‘m gonna mmm fuck come” You started to grind against his face, beard tickling your mound. “I know” His words were muffled as he pulled your hips back against his face. The room around you blurred into nothing as your eyes rolled back, orgasm rolling through you with fury.

The sheets were soft on your hard nipples, the added stimulation making you cry out. You pulled yourself away from him weakly only to be pulled back. “Where you going?” He questioned. The spank Terry placed on your right ass cheek had you jolting away from him, which made him wrap his hand around the back of your neck. “Tell me where you going girl” Terry’s voice echoed in your head as you tried to focus. “Nowhere, I promise” You head shook back and forth wildly, braids falling from your bun.

Terry rubbed soothing circle on your now red ass cheek, giving you a moment to calm down. You started to bounce back on Terry’s bulge, your stickiness making his hard dick shine in the light of your bedroom. “Oh you want it now?” He teased. His hand came to hold your hips steady as he started to do the work for you. His swollen tip nudged against your clit just right, bubbles of precum decorating your flesh. You reached back to grab his dick, tired of being empty.

You fell into an arch as he found his home in your pussy. Your walls pulsated around him as if to say “welcome home.”

“Tight ass fucking pussy” He grunted from behind you, his balls resting against your clit as he bottomed out. He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth as he felt his balls start to throb. He fed you slow, deep thrusts, the slap of his thighs on yours filling the room. Goosebumps rushed over your skin with movement.

He hit all your spots with expert precision, catching your hand when you reached back to press it on his stomach. “No ma’am, this what you wanted. Be still and let me work my pussy open” He spoke, head thrown back and eyes closed. Your mind went numb with pleasure. The fat of your thighs started to jiggle as you shook, mouth open in silent moans. Each thrust stole the breath from your lungs.

“Let me tell you something” Terry wrapped a hand in your now messy hair, pulling to get you to look at him through the mirror. “Don’t you ever hide this body from me. This body carried my baby and I’ll be damned if you shamed of it” He punctuated his words with sharper thrusts making you squeal. “Tell me you’re beautiful” He demanded.

“I’m, ugh, I’m beautiful” Your words were quick, drool building up in your mouth and dribbling from the side of it. “Again, make me believe it” He responded. “I’m beautiful Terry, so beautiful” You felt yourself about to come again, walls squeezing him even tighter.

“Yes you are” Terry agreed, his own orgasm building. The sensation of you creaming around him triggered Terry’s orgasm. He continued to thrust as he spilled into you, the mixture of you two dripping onto the sheets. You fell limp onto the bed, shaking and whining at the overwhelming feeling. Terry pulled out slowly to watch his cum flow from your hole.

A warm rag was the next thing you felt on your pussy, the heat making you sigh in relief. “Don’t worry baby, I got you” Terry spoke softly, planting a kiss on your cheek.

—

tags: @kenshisluvrgirl @megamindsecretlair

[tillichan]

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ Your life in Blue Lock for @xo-adeline ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

Being the manager of the best football team in Europe, Bastard Munchen, is not an easy task. But somehow you immediately fit into this team, becoming an inalienable part of Bastard Munchen. Even though, players may seem like they don't care about you, but that's no true! Conversely, they've a soft spot for you and value your contribution to the team. Your intimidating look is actually a secret weapon of your team you don't know about it though which helped them to make their rivals give up without a fight more than once.

Rival A: Hey, bro, look at this manager. She's planning on murdering or something like this? Rival B: She looks like she's going to kill us if we score even one goal. Bastard Munchen: What are you saying about our manager? Rivals — crap their pants, your team — pleased with themselves, meanwhile you just have no clue about all this stuff.

Usually you do the ordinary manager stuff like paperwork, maintaining the team schedule, taking care of players. But your ability to see a little things and your knowledge of psychology help Bastard Munchen to analyze their matches or their rivals. Sometimes you speak your mind without always thinking about it first during meetings. Your seniors are dissatisfied with it, but your team love your sarcastic and witty personality. And when you subtly mock seniors or team's rivals? Your team adore you! But your routine was interrupted by invitation to Blue Lock, your team as players, you as their manager assistant, because Blue Lock project needs more workers. And if you think that being a manager of Bastard Munchen is chaos, no, being a manager of Blue Lock is real chaos! Where should I start?.. Well, let's start from this part. Now you've not a team of professional football players, you've a team of professional simps-guardians, who literally growl at poor Blue Lock boys, who want to ask you for help, for example. Bastard Munchen are very proud of their manager and brag about you every. single. minute.

Kaiser: Wanna ask manager for help, Yoichi? What a pity, she is my manager! Anri in the background: But she is not only your manager...

Even Noel Noa brags about you in his composed manner! Ego didn't understand his behavior at first. But when you started speaking your mind during meetings and teasing Anri with him... Well, you're really not bad, so Ego thinks now. I'm sorry, Ego-san, this manager is already taken. Bastard Munchen are very chaotic team, you still love them. Despite their attempts to protect you from Blue Lock boys, you've a lot of friends here and carry out the duties of a manager great.

Color of your ego — Dark Blue

Falling in love with a new manager of Bastard Munchen is the last thing Michael Kaiser expected out of his life. But here you are, beautiful, smart and full of love for him. You broke the walls Michael had built around his heart over the years and showered him with love. Even though Michael hate being loved because it makes him weak, he also wants to be loved by someone, strange as it may sound.

♥ You two look so cool together! Your couple aesthetic and aura is something else! Tattoos, blue roses, similar hair colors and intimidating smug look. I bet, you're the hottest topic of discussion in the community! ♥ Michael loves that you're a sarcastic person and tend to speak your mind without always thinking about it. Your personalities suits each other, you both are witty, independent and have your own time of self-doubt. It helps you to understand each other and work on your weaknesses together. ♥ Especially Kaiser loves teasing you whenever you're falling and tripping all over the place. After he caught you, of course. ♥ Since Michael is interested in psychology, as you do, you two have a lot of deep conversations and discussions about it. He'd probably be interested in true crime too because of you. ♥ Please, take care of him in the morning. Michael wakes up in a really bad mood, but mornings are actually not that bad if you're with him~ ♥ Michael hates receiving gifts, he doesn't know how he's supposed to react. Well, if it's not your gifts. Even though, he is still bad at showing good reactions, but he is happy that you think about him.

Alexis Ness acts towards you as your older brother. You and Kaiser are the most important people in his life. Honestly, Alexis loves and protects you even more than he admires Kaiser. He thinks about you as a little sister, because he never received love and understanding from his real siblings. And as your older brother he protects you a lot! If you and Alexis come in, while Kaiser's doing his morning routine consists of standing before the mirror naked, gazing at himself while having a conversation with himself, Alexis will cover your eyes with his hands. It doesn't matter that Michael is your boyfriend. Don't worry, dear, your brother protect your heart from all jerks around you!

Noel Noa is your proud father figure. He always acts cool, but he loves you from the bottom of his heart. Your smart tactics and ideas helped Bastard Munchen more than once, not to mention that he loves that you can keep in line the behavior of the team. Every time Noa has meeting with coaches in Blue Lock, your name keeps coming up. And if Ego or another coach ask him to give you his team? No. That's impossible.

Itsuki Wakatsuki has a fattest crush on you since you first appeared in Blue Lock. The way you tease your, and not only your, team, your sarcastic and witty behavior, your strange but cute habit to do something and then just totally stop and move on, he was smitten with you! Even though your team is kinda aggressive when someone tries to approach you, Itsuki talks to you whenever he has a chance. He enjoys talking to you about football, mocking others players or sleeping on your lap, because he's always tired. The last one happened only once, because your team raised a riot.

Karasu Tabito is your best friend in Blue Lock. You're cool and smart girl, who is also witty and loves analyzing people, consider you're Tabito's favorite person in the whole Blue Lock. Karasu doesn't like receiving a present because he hates to be forced to feel happy. But somehow you've the ability to make him always feel happy not only because of little gifts but also because of little gestures which always get to the point. You two spend your time together analyzing games or players or just talking about your life. Karasu built walls around his heart. And you're the only one person who are able to tear it down.

Nagi Seishiro is one more your Blue Lock friend. You two have a lot in common! Sleeping, playing video games, reading manga, for example. You and Nagi bond over similar hobbies and got along well. You two can be found together reading manga Nagi has a lot of manga apps, so you two always can find something interesting or playing video game. Nagi would like to rest on you lap after a rough training session, but unfortunately this place is already taken. As you do, Nagi loves teasing people around in his own way. So you two have a lot of fun together, imagining Barou Maid Cafe or football players as animals.

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Felon!Gale x Felonitis!John HC’s

I want to turn this into a full fic so bad but my brain is not braining lately so we’re just rolling with rambling bullet points. Brought to you by Austin’s buzzed head 🥰 A million thanks to @avonne-writes for the significantly better quality pics ❤️❤️❤️

Gale’s in prison for homicide. He originally only murdered his abusive ex and could’ve gotten away with it either due to lack of evidence or because it as self-defense. But, people in the community know and start coming to him with their own horror stories and Gale quietly takes care of these POS’ after some vetting. He gets away with it for awhile because he’s taking care of some real low life’s that the police are lowkey grateful they don’t have to deal with anymore until one of his victim’s family’s raises a huge stink and this open secret is busted and Gale ends up convicted with a life sentence.

He ends up with a buzzed head because of a lice outbreak and then it’s so much easier to deal with he just keeps it buzzed.

They get a new guard “call me Bucky” assigned to his unit (not new to the job just the facility) and Gale is immediately amused by this cocky goofball who somehow befriends them all without hesitation and without being a try hard. He insists on calling Gale “Buck” and while Gale hates the name itself, he sees the twinkle in John’s eyes and knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s certifiably insane for flirting with some serving life for multiple homicides, but Gale kind of likes that about him.

The flirting gets to a truly sickening level, the other inmates are disgusted (affectionate) and start playfully calling out favoritism. While they’re joking, it does make John realize that he’s being way too obvious. So he pulls Gale into a closet and tries to set the record straight except Gale’s immediately on him and John suddenly finds himself splayed out on the closet floor, hands sliding over that buzzed head as Gale sucks his soul out through his dick and then eats him out so good he cries. John’s begging for Gale to come all over his face by the end.

Then, it just doesn’t stop. They’re constantly dragging each other into hiding spots so that Gale can fuck John against the wall or ride John in the laundry room floor while choking him a bit. The fact that those hands have choked someone to death just makes it even hotter for John. It’s all unbearably hot and they cannot keep their hands to themselves and they’re both a little cuckoo bananas but that’s part of the appeal.

It’s not all about the sex though. They start talking and genuinely falling for each other. John starts banging on about breaking Gale out. It makes Gale heart soar to know John cares that much but he’s also not about to let John ruin his entire life for him. There’s no way they don’t get caught. So, Gale humors him but keeps shutting it down because it’s too dangerous and John starts getting frustrated because he thinks it means Gale doesn’t want to be with him. Gale’s a little concerned that if he somehow were to ever get out, John wouldn’t want him anymore without the thrill.

They break up for a little bit. The vibes are so rancid, the rest of Gale’s unit are sweating and doing their damnedest to try and get them back together because mom and dad fighting like this is not good for anyone. They all like John being their guard and things run so much smoother when he’s there and they’re anxious he’s gonna transfer (he would never) to another unit. Someone ends up locking them in a closet together and they end up fucking mean and nasty and so loud that the inmates assigned to guard them have second hand embarrassment. They talk and makeup afterward of course and everyone takes a collective sigh of relief.

The public is all still madly in love with Gale and raise enough money to get him a new lawyer and somehow, they get Gale out on a technicality and gets his record scrubbed. They definitely live happily ever after and come up with some whacky role plays to keep the spice alive ❤️

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, is okay to do a request? A Christmas or New Years?

With TFA Silver Aid (you can also with TFA Ironhold, Ophelia, & Fearless, if they live in a same universe)

Or any other Buddy you like?

(also Take care & Merry (Early/Late) Christmas & Happy New Year!)

Made it just in time!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!!

Hope you enjoy!

Silver Aid, Ophelia, Ironhold and Fearless Christmas

SFW, Platonic, Famialal, Hinted Romance, Cybertonian/ Technoorganic/ Human reader

TFA

The idea of the holiday was introduced by Fearless.

It had just started snowing in the area when the human started bringing in boxes.

The Con’s didn’t question it at first.

Ophelia honestly thought that Fearless was finally moving in.

Ironhold also thought about this idea but kept to themselves.

They both were a bit upset when they found out that Fearless was not moving in.

Please ignore Ironhold’s blueprints to make a human room in the base.

No one saw them.

They don’t exist.

Silver Aid was getting a bit worried about the resident human when they started bringing in heavier boxes.

Soon Fearless asked for a meeting.

Megatron: “Let me understand this clearly.” Fearless pauses their presentation on the history of presents. Fearless: “Yeah?” Megatron: “You expect us to participate in some Earth holiday for fun?” Fearless: “Well, not entirely true but yes!” Megatron: “I’m afraid I’m going to have to put a damper on your plans.” Ophelia raises her servo. Ophelia: “It does sound nice to participate Father.” Ironhold coughs a bit: “It may boost moral as well.” Silver Aid: “The concept does sound lovely.” Starscream: “The colors aren’t so hideous to look at.” Blitzwing: “The scenery does look nice.” Lugnut: “Can we invite Strika to the holiday?” Megatron: “Enough! We are not celebrating this ‘Christmas’.” Ophelia gives his a pleading look. He looks away refusing to give in. Silver Aid: “Megatron—” Megatron: “I have made my decision Silver Aid.” Fearless crosses their arms. Fearless: “I guess I’ll have to drag all my stuff over to the Autobots then.” Megatron’s optic twitches a bit. Fearless: “And I bet Optimus would let me—" Megatron suddenly stands up. Megatron: “Everyone get to work on this Christmas thing!”

 Lugnut and Ironhold are in charge of getting the tree.

Lugnut would have gone by himself, but it was it was clear to everyone that someone needed to watch him.

At least so he could pick a real tree and not some telephone pole.

It took a few tries before the pair managed to squeeze in a giant tree into the base.

Thank goodness Fearless thought about bringing scraps of metal to make more ornaments.

Starscream and Blitzwing were in charge of placing the lights and ornaments on the tree.

The Second in Command takes a liking to the shinier ornaments.

Ophelia and Silver Aid have caught him looking at his reflection in them.

Blitzwing loved putting the weirder and bigger ornaments.

Somehow managed to tangle his wings and Starscreams in the tree lights.

Neither of them knows how this happened.

Silver Aid and Megatron help with the lights around the base.

Using her alt mode, Silver is able to reach the higher and more narrow parts on the ceiling.

Megatron may or may not have used this as n excuse to ‘help’ her in the higher places that didn’t need an alt mode.

Has he caught her blushing after lifting her up with one servo to get the door frame?

…No… At least that he knows of…

Ophelia and Fearless are in charge of gift wrapping and making sure that no one tried to open their gifts before time.

Some culprits already caught were Starscream, Random Blitzwing and for some reason Ironhold.

Ironhold refuses to tell them why they were trying to peak at the presents.

But there was one last thing that Fearless needed to do…

Ironhold has Fearless in their servos. They were both walking to the final doorway in the base. Ironhold: “Explain to me again why you are putting a plant on a string above the doorways? Does it smell that bad in here?” Fearless finishes taping the last of the mistletoe. Fearless: “Listen Hold, I can not stand another YEAR of Silver and Meg’s pinning for each other. I’m going to speed run this slow burn as fast as I can, and mistletoe is the first step.” Ironhold: “But what is the plant going to do?” Fearless: “If two people—er bots, stand underneath it, they have to kiss.” Ironhold: “Oh… Oh!” Fearless: “Quick hide! Lia’s bringing them over!” They both hid behind a corner just as Ophelia ran to their side. She hid behind Ironhold’s pede. Fearless was in Ironhold’s open servo. Ophelia: “Here they come!” Both Con’s walk into the room. Silver Aid: “Did you see where Ophelia went?” Megatron: “She probably—what is that?” Silver Aid looks up at the tiny plant Megatron was pointing. Silver Aid: “Oh! That is Mistletoe! Fearless mentioned that you have to kiss under it. Megatron freezes for a second. Megatron: “Wha—” The Technoorganic gently holds his servo and kisses the back of it and smiles at him. Silver Aid: “This is such a sweet holiday! I’m going to tell Lugnut to bring Strika next time around!” Silver Aid walks off leaving a buffering Megatron to stare at his servo. Ironhold and Ophelia wince at the sight. Ironhold: “Well that was painful—HEY! HEY!” Fearless tries to swan dive off of Ironhold’s servos. Fearless: “I CAN’T TAKE ANOTHER YEAR OF THIS!!!! I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS SLOW OF A SLOW BURN!!!” Ophelia: “FEARLESS DON’T!!” Ironhold: “YOU’RE TOO TINY I CAN BARELY HOLD YOU!!! STOP TRYING TO JUMP!!!” Fearless: “NEVER!!!”  

[theoldkyokodied]

You know which scene I am basing this on. Also (kisses all the fanfic writers on the mouth) thank you for your service

Bonus:

Edit: DISCLAIMER: Before you decide to watch Re-Animator, make sure to check for content warnings, there is a scene that a lot of people choose to skip!

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

i think the most annoying part of dog food discourse is how many people will act as though proplan/hill’s/Royal canin diets aren’t extremely and prohibitively expensive and that THAT is the reason so many people look into healthy alternatives.

People complain about corn being in the first five ingredients on most of those feeds because, regardless of other factors here, that is not an expensive ingredient. But it makes up a large chunk of the dry food. So the dry food should be fairly affordable, right?

Oh… with tax you’re spending about $100 for one 45lb bag of food where the third ingredient is wheat and the fourth and fifth ingredients are corn.

Oh… well! It’s slightly cheaper! But the second ingredient is rice, third is wheat, fourth is corn, and then fifth is poultry byproduct. None of those are very expensive so this just must be the low end cost of dog food unfortunately. The vets recommend it so surely that means prices aren’t inflated, right?

Oh? This one has similar ingredients with the only real difference being no corn? And it’s half the price?? Well surely that’s just a fluke.

Oh. Oh no.

This one even has CORN in it and it’s $20 cheaper?? Wow!

Like listen at some point I don’t care if your dog food has the ichor of the gods in it, I’m not spending $100 every five days if there are cheaper options with just as many “good” ingredients in it. If you think I’m a dog abuser because I can’t afford this overpriced garbage, that’s too bad. I don’t care. My dogs are perfectly healthy with the food I give them. Great weight and great coat. People giving dog food recommendations that aren’t those top three hyper-expensive dog foods aren’t trying to epic own those dastardly vets half the time, but I really don’t blame the ones who do lose trust in vets when the only heartworm protection they recommend lately are expensive triple-action brands like Simparica Trio that costs $120+ as opposed to the other heartworm protections that are only about $40-$60 on average, which is still cheaper even if you add on a $20-$40 flea and tick protection separately, and only recommend dog food that costs $85+ a bag even if your dog doesn’t have specialized dietary needs.

Those top three foods are GREAT at making competent prescription diets, I don’t deny that. I do still have to criticize the pricing of those prescription diets though because I have spoken to DOZENS of people who had to pull their pets off of a prescription diet and struggle to find something comparable because they couldn’t afford the food, and that’s terrible! These are not poor companies! Purina, Royal Canin, and Hill’s can ABSOLUTELY afford to lower their prices to make their food accessible to people who need it for their animals but they don’t. They probably never will. Because at the core they are run by greedy corporations. It doesn’t matter how many good nutritionists are on board if the company is run by people who put profits over customers and make the food impossible for people to afford.

[katyspersonal]

[dangaer]

thinking a lot about in a world where toma might be considered "i would kill for you" and heroine might be labelled "i would die for you", shin stands wholeheartedly in the: would you live for me? in turn

[termagax]

like i think to fish theyre just both people who shouldve died a long time ago and now they arent allowed to. because they need each other. and they both crave that and resent it.

[snekdood]

I've never really actually cared about smearing my ex. I only ever wanted to clear my name and draw vent art to an audience i *thought* was removed from them. I didn't think anyone they knew or knee them were still watching me online so i felt like it was okay to finally draw vent art. Art that would only emotionally move them to actually give af about what they did but i felt was vague enough that people wouldnt trace it back to them. And then someone did, and then they wrote a whole callout post about me, which i was anticipating for years, but before that, theyve been for years building this image of me, where they know their audience knows theyre talking about me, theyve been trying to paint me as the abuser for years so that when they did call me out, people could refer to their comic and see "evidence" im bad because i guess thats evidence somehow??? Whatever the case. I feel like ive only been trying to clear my name since they started this. I never wanted it to devolve into this me vs them thing but they seemed to start off that way by default with me. I felt like i had to lay out everything they did to defend my point that i know what im talking about, im not crazy, and maybe listen to me because i might be right when i talk about myself specifically. The fact its gotten to this point is so stupid to me. It would have been so much easier for them to just drop the narrative of painting me as this horrible shitty person but no apparently we had to drag it all the way out to this point. I hate feeling like i have to constantly defend myself because theres a whole narrative about me thats entirely different from who I am. I hate that i felt like i needed to compile all this evidence that im innocent especially since even if i had direct evidence of their abuse people would still somehow find a way to dismiss it. All of this has been a waste of time but i guess so long as they get to throw my name in the trash and shit on it nothing else matters.

[great-and-small]

My grandfather and my godfather (a beloved neighbor and dear family friend) had a long standing bet- for one dollar- about who would die first. Both of them being slightly pessimistic (in the funny way), they both insisted that they themselves would be the first to die. Any time my grandfather had a health scare, he’d gleefully call up my godfather to boast that he’d be passing “any day now” and he was sure to win the bet. It was a big family joke and they were always amiably sparring and comparing notes about who was in worse shape, medically speaking.

When my grandfather was in hospice care dying of liver cancer, my godfather was quite ill also. It took him great effort to make the journey to see his dying friend. As he came into the room, supported by a family member, he shuffled to my grandpa’s bedside and silently handed him a dollar bill. He was ceding his loss of the bet, as they both knew who was going first. My grandpa had been in quite bad shape for a while and was no longer able to speak but let me tell you he snatched that dollar with unexpected strength and literally laughed aloud. He knew exactly what the gesture meant and he couldn’t help but find the humor within the grief. It was the last time any of us heard my grandpa laugh, as he passed shortly after.

When I talk about my appreciation for “dark humor” I’m not so much thinking about edgy jokes, but rather the human instinct to somehow, impossibly, both find and appreciate the absurdity that is so often folded into the profound grief of life and death. When I tell this story I think it kind of perturbs people sometimes, but it’s honestly one of my favorite memories about two men I really deeply admired. I could never hope for anything more than for my loved ones to remember me laughing until the very end, and taking joy in a little joke as one of my final acts.

[whirlybirbs]

— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development. 

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun? 

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago. 

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide. 

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest. 

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent. 

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence. 

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time? 

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown. 

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care. 

He isn't a villain-in-training. 

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children. 

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents. 

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet. 

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it. 

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class? 

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes. 

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing. 

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now. 

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again. 

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good. 

Happy. 

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time. 

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto. 

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero. 

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good. 

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever." 

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk. 

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher. 

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember. 

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing. 

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle. 

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute. 

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all. 

He hangs back. 

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto. 

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was. 

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds. 

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back. 

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are...  good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose. 

And the underdog in question can read a room. 

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions. 

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment. 

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell. 

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?" 

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy." 

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog." 

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya. 

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?" 

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath. 

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates. 

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful. 

Fuyumi's contribution. 

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back. 

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine. 

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables. 

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you. 

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A. 

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks. 

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass. 

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy. 

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him. 

Until this morning, that is. 

You smile into your drink. 

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot. 

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school. 

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so. 

It's adorable. 

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home. 

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it. 

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you. 

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss. 

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen. 

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you. 

It's sweet.

Really sweet. 

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit. 

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there. 

Your stomach does a flip. 

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure. 

Keep it together. 

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years. 

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment. 

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park. 

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly. 

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest. 

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now. 

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. 

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone. 

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful. 

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.  

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together. 

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face. 

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did. 

It shows. 

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory. 

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

And then you whimper. 

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching. 

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up. 

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him. 

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that? 

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect. 

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person. 

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face. 

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs. 

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend. 

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki. 

[xazse]

Ahhhh I loved your reader hybrid works, literal chefs kiss 😩🤌 can you pls pls pls do a bunny! Reader x Suguru and Satoru

You can’t!

Synopsis: Poor Bunnygirl and puppyboySatoru are experiencing the worst heats ever, good thing their owner Suguru is there to take care of them.

Notes: Hi I decided to bring in our Puppy!BoySatoru if you don’t like it just let me know and I’ll revise this entire thing for you!!

Pairings: Puppy!HybridSatoru x Bunny!GirlReader x Suguru

Warnings: Hybrid!Reader + smut + humping + Hybrid!Satoru + drooling + licking + penetration + lots of cum very nasty + Suguru is a good owner + collars

Suguru is exhausted when he read online that getting a hybrid would take a lot of work they weren’t lying especially Bunnygirls and Puppy!Boys.

He thought he would be ready and prepared, it should be a walk in the park! Of course bumps and falls would occur but with someone as patient as Suguru everything will turn out fine.

A year in everything was so fucking perfect, You and Satoru listened so well he really lucked out with the two of you. Most people would complain on online forums that handling was the hardest thing.

The issues started arising when you and Satoru started getting needy, you were kinda independent before but now you both are always on or under Suguru, you both felt the need to always have your hands on him, roaming his body and even touching each other. More issues started to come when it felt like you and him were so feverish and always sore.

A quick google search brought Suguru to the page of hybrid heats. It happens often and can be unpredictable, it’s slapped in his face and he isn’t sure what to do

“Please-Suguru hurts so bad..”

He surely wasn’t expecting to walk into the scene he’s seeing right now, Satoru laid on his back with you atop him, tears are brimming in both your lashes it looks like you two have been crying and whining for the longest time.

You’re in nothing but panties and a thin tank top with him sporting just his underwear. Satoru’s cock is fully hard pressed agains’t your cunt so snugly and he’s already made a mess: his cum seeping through.

It looks like this is what you two have been doing for all this time, just grinding against each other. He feels terrible, he hadn’t taken the time to fully explain what would be happening to your bodies.

He makes his way over to his dumb pets and you both follow so obediently, leaving each others arms to fully envelope in his. Satoru starts licking and sucking on his neck, he isn’t shy to rub his cock so blatantly, smearing his thick load even more.

He needs to teach his hybrids how to pleasure themselves whilst he isn’t here, he stops Satoru from his suckling. He gently has you lay down admiring just how cute you look, your ears are standing at full attention but your hazy eyes aren’t all there.

He pulls off your sticky panties, a clear line of your cum visible when they’re discarded.

He’s met with an even messier sight when admiring your pussy, your folds are glistening as well as his fingers when he teases your little clit.

Suguru positions Satoru in front of your spread legs, he isn’t sure what to do with himself besides following Suguru’s every direction.

Suguru dips his fingers in your cunt again, guiding them to Satoru’s mouth he has him suck them clean.

Satoru absolutely loves the taste of you, he groans so lewdly as he’s lapping up what’s left of your essence.

When he finishes that up Suguru grabs Satoru’s leaky cock with a rough grip and taps it a few times on your soddened clit, this elicits a few moans out of the both of you. It feels so good already, and yet Suguru can’t wait to show you both just how good cumming feels.

He guides Satoru’s hips pushing his sensitive pink tip past your tight entrance.

“Ahh..ngh…”

The whimpering starts, poor puppy Satoru’s brain can’t comprehend this feeling, he knows the pleasure part of his brain is needing more but his body wants to pull away at the same time, he’s scared at how wet and hot it feels. He isn’t telling Suguru to stop so he continues.

His bunny isn’t fairing any better, you’re gripping the pillows for dear life as a fat cock, something foreign pushes inside of you for the first time.

Suguru sets a slow nice pace, hands still on Satoru’s hips guiding him inside of your wet cavern and out again and again. He’s doing all the work but he doesn’t mind one bit.

Suguru pauses working Gojo into you and lets him feel you, for real this time. Your walls are twitching and clamping down on him so hard.

He slides down into the crook of your neck and cries right there, it’s such a sad sight but so arousing at the same time.

“Cmon Toru, gotta make bunny feel good too.”

Satoru listens and begins licking your sensitive neck, he knows that’s a weak spot of yours, always triggering it when he’s roughhousing with you. His hips begin speeding up, the wet sounds of your cum mixing together and being slammed against one another is loud and bounces off the walls.

You cry out loud letting Suguru know that you feel weird, your tummy feels weird and it’s hurting. He reassures you and says to just let it go.

Suguru teases and grabs Satoru’s balls, head diving into his first load of the afternoon, it’s a good bit of cum he produces, Suguru is going to spend a good hour cleaning the both of you up!

[bonebrokebuddy]

Unbeknownst to Wally, the notes are from Clockwork desperately trying to contact anyone who can actually influence the timestream outside the Observant’s watchful eyes.

After getting the notes to Bruce, they reveal the frantic ramblings of a [Parent? Mentor? Guardian?], desperately crying out for them to save his [word untranslatable but presumed to mean son, mentee, or child] from a government organization a few universes over.

The being, who introduces himself as Clockwork, reveals he cannot influence anything himself but can watch over the streams of time and has observed Wally’s ability to interfere and change it’s threads. If his [son?] dies, it will mean the destruction of all of the infinite realms (a cosmic foil to the speed force that’s a force of death and timelessness instead of life and the constant movement forward of the universe).

All in all, the letters are rushed, barely explain anything except location, date, what condition he’s in, and how to save the boy.

Who exactly is this boy? Why is he so important to the Infinite Realms? What are the Infinite Realms exactly? Who is this “Clockwork” and why are they so important? Who are the Observants? And so many more. All are valid questions, and all are entirely unanswered.

But regardless, with Captain Marvel confirming the existence of the Infinite Realms, that it was under attack, and the very real negative effects it would have on their universe if it collapsed; Wally must now gather a crew and embark on a rescue mission across universes to save this kid[? They actually don’t really know his status of age other than he’s younger and in the care of the mysterious “Clockwork” who sent the letters in the first place].

Batman, because… of course he’s going to go investigate what the hell is happening. Not only can his eye for strategy, stealth, hacking, and intimidation give the team an advantage in getting the most answers out of the government ages there. But Bruce also has so many damn questions, barely any of which were answered by the notes Wally received, so he needs to go into this mission to investigate not only this new alternate universe government threat but to get as much information possible before they leave, in addition to ensuring Clockwork’s child is safely rescued.

Clark is elected as he is most likely to handle whatever this government organization has in store (and Clark “got injured” in the most recent supervillain battle that smashed into the Daily Planet, so he conveniently has some time off while he “recovers from his injury.” But also because he heard a kid was in danger and, well, it feels wrong to not help someone in need).

Captain Marvel (god, they gotta get to know the guy more. he’s so damn reserved but is great at this particular brand of buck-wild missions), not only because of his incredible intelligence, invulnerability, strength, and being great with kids and teenagers; but also is primarily chosen for the team due to his knowledge of the Infinite Realms. He can also give live feedback on the state of the Realm that’s apparently actively tearing apart and crumbling! If something goes wrong, Cap will be able to give them a warning before all shit breaks loose.

Next recruitment is Patrick O’Brian, aka Plastic Man. His abilities of stealth (if he can keep his mouth shut), infiltration (absolutely), invulnerability (overpowered as high hell), versatility (dear god he can literally become anything or anyone as long as it’s in his own color pallet), and because he has a particular soft-spot for kids.

(Plas and Clark are already moping to each other about having to leave their respective partners (Woozy and Lois) behind. Meanwhile Wally is biting at the chance for just a tiny break from the twins, sorry Linda.)

Lastly, brought surprisingly by Captain Marvel is Booster Gold. His additional experience in time-travel and time stream manipulation will come mighty in handy during the mission. It helps that Booster has some “Bona fide genuine ecto-weapons, dudes! Let’s go and save Phantom!” that he brought from the 25th century. And, well. At least now they had the name “Phantom” from Booster to work off of.

Kon and Thad are notified to be on-call for the Recovery Team’s arrival back as clones were mentioned in one of the hundreds of notes and Clark thought it might be nice for the boys to have another friend they can relate to. Tim and Bart are close behind because despite Bruce and Max telling them to not interfere, they want to also meet the alternate universe breaking guy who has enough trust from Clark to keep Kon and Thad on-deck in case they’re needed to help the guy make some friends his age.

—-

This is rushed and not super refined, I just wanted to get the basic initial idea out of my head & get it out there. So sorry if this is a tad wonky to read at times, that’s my bad

Short DPXDC Prompts #576

Wally doesn’t understand these strange messages written on bright green post-it notes that keep appearing near him. Whatever it’s trying to say, the messages keep increasing in amount every day.

[lastoneout]

I keep thinking about all of the disabled activists and people before me who stranded themselves on the 4th floor of buildings for weeks and crawled up stairs and fought with airline staff and schools and doctors and refused to stop existing in the face of injustice and bigotry no matter how big and scary and hopeless it seemed. Every time I get angry and scared the protests that lead to the creation of the ADA pop up again and remind me that disabled people are so much fucking stronger than anyone has ever given us credit for, and I can't help but be proud of that. And I know not all disabled people feel like we should take pride in our disabilities and have flags or whatever, but I think not just living, but thriving, in spite of a world that wants us dead and gone, in the face of both illness and persecution, and how we've not only bought ourselves forward, but uplifted the disabled people around us, secured more equal futures for everyone who will come after, and truly changed the way so many abled people have seen us for the better is something to be damn fucking proud of.

We have always been here and we always will be, there will never be a world without disabled people because being disabled is not bad, it's a natural part of the human experience and yeah it sucks some times but even when it sucks we have fought to build beautiful, unique, happy lives with people, both like us and not, and that should be celebrated.

The first sign of human civilization is the healed femur. The body of the profoundly disabled person who would have needed help to even just eat being carefully laid to rest after decades of a full, happy life. The medicinal plants showing even before we were entirely human we were doing what we could to not just survive, but alleviate suffering while we're at it. Above everything, evolution selected not the baby who can walk and eat and be quiet, but the one that can ask for help.

Disabled people are not just angry cockroach motherfuckers who refuse to die, we are proof of humanity's HUMANITY. Proof that natural selection selected a species that takes care of each other. From healed femurs and medicinal plants to vaccines and IVs and insulin to now, we are driven to help one another, we are at our strongest when we don't leave our most vulnerable behind. And I am living proof of that. My mother is living proof of that. Every disabled and chronically and/or mentally ill person I know is living proof of that.

And I don't know about the rest of you, but will carry that shred of humanity's true nature inside me like it's my fucking soul. I am scared and angry and hurt, but I have a lifetime's experience being scared and angry, and I can shake off the kind of pain that would make Atlas crumble to dust like it's nothing but a stiff fucking breeze. Disabled people have always been here, turning fear and anger and pain into joy and beauty and connection, and I'm not going to let everyone who came before me down. I'm not going to give up. Not now, not ever.

It's okay if you're disabled and you've hit your limit, you're too scared and tired and hurt, I won't blame you. But I won't abandon you, either. I might not be able to right all of the wrongs in the world, but I'll be strong, I'll carry all of you with me, I will not give up.

As I've said before, society hates a cripple who won't die, so we must spite them and live anyway.

Please, live anyway. I know if anyone can, it's us.