#Old school music scratches my brain in a way modern music never will

[palettepainter]

I GOT THE MUPPET MOVIE VINYL FOR £20 AND IT ARRIVED TODAY!!!

#tapping my hands on my desk and knees #clawing at my walls #Actually going a little nuts rn over this cover art it's SO GOOD #Old school music scratches my brain in a way modern music never will #It's so good #I miss when music was scratchy and grainy sounding #It's why I love old school disney songs #Muppets #The Muppets #I swear I'm not being paid by Vinted to say this but ya'll please do your shopping on Vinted I've found some brilliant muppet stuff on ther #One being a box of vintage postcards which are on their way and should be here soon! #Sona

[charliehoennam]

the NO-SKIP albums: a tag game

rules: share the albums that you can listen to nonstop. those lightning in a bottle-albums that scratch ur brain just right. every single track, an absolute banger. u could not skip one if u tried. no notes. stunning, show-stopping, immaculate. ur no-skip albums. 🔎 bonus & optional (but imo, v fun) rules:1) add a track rec for us to listen to! AND2) share ur favorite line(s) from that track! 👀

tagged by @stephendorff, i got pretty excited for this but then i realized that i don't have many no-skips albums....or so i thought🤦‍♀️ tagging: @gyll-yee-haw, @gyllenhaalstories, @potter-solomons, @navybrat817, @laurfilijames, @ithinkwehitametaphor

🎧 album info/track recs/my favorite lines under the cut!! ↓↓↓

album: audioslave by audioslave song rec: shadow on the sun I can tell you why // People go insane // I can show you how // You could do the same their self-entitled album never fails to make me feel like driving out in the middle of the desert in a pick-up truck with a cigarette hanging between my lips, hands stained with the blood of my ex-lover

album: diamond eyes by deftones song rec: beauty school You're shooting stars // From the barrel of your eyes // It drives me crazy // Just drives me wild deftones (and chino with all his side projects i.e team sleep, crosses, and palms which deserve a shoutout) never fail to amaze me with every song they make. hands down, my favorite band and coming to that conclusion was not easy

album: koi no yokan by deftones song rec: swerve city She tames with her voices // As she plays around with the forces i wasn't lying when i said they're my number 1 band lmao when this album first came out, i was hesitant about because i felt like their music changed a bit. but listening to it, 14 years later, made me realize how it sounds like a more mature side of the band and also i feel like they've successfully managed to put how an orgasm feels into music

album: razorblade romance by HIM song rec: right here in my arms She keeps on crying // But i won't leave her alone // She'll never be alone HIM was probably my first introduction into rock in general when i started watching jackass and viva la bam and it was love at first song. i just love how their music makes me feel like a century year old vampire wandering the modern world. and their lyrics are incomparable

album: meteora by linkin park song rec: from the inside Tension is building inside, steadily // Everyone feels so far away from me // Heavy thoughts forcing their way out of me choosing between meteora and hybrid theory is a long life debate and they're both so perfect but meteora is what i listened to the most growing up and it became the soundtrack of my teenage age lmao

album: peripheral vision by turnover song rec: new scream Adolescent dreams gave to adult screams // Paranoid that I won't have all the things they say I need this band deserves so much more attention. this album brings a sense of nostalgia to me and just makes me feel warm and happy and like road tripping through australia, which has always been a place i've always wanted to visit and unfortunately haven't been able to

album: as far as the eye can see by people in planes song rec: falling by the wayside It's OK // To be safe // I'm losing control // Falling by the wayside if i could choose a song to play at the moment of my passing away, that would be this. it's beautifully haunting in a way and the entire album is a musical masterpiece. i truly hate that this band broke up and never got the appreciation they deserved so i've made it my life's mission to spread the good word of people in planes lmao

album: placebo by placebo song rec: teenage angst Since I was born I started to decay // Now nothing ever, ever goes my way the only reason i didn't choose sleeping with ghosts is because there are two songs on there that aren't my favorite and i usually skip. placebo is a great alternative band that never goes out of style for me and i could listen to this album on repeat forever

album: jar by superheaven song rec: in on it / youngest daughter And I know just what I need // Autumn leaves and fallen trees // To feel the cold beneath my feet // Breathe until your lungs fail // You can sing 'til you go deaf this band has successfully revived alt/grunge in a mature way that brings a sense of nostalgia along with it. for me, it's hard to believe this album was only birthed in 2013. under the video, there's a comment that says "greatest 90s band of the 2010s" and it couldn't be more accurate. i couldn't pick between the two songs

album: teenage wrist song rec: swallow Older and older // The voice of wasted youth has never been so loud // Over and over // Like powder in the barrel pushin' deeper down another band that's been bringing atl/grunge and they do it so well. haven't really listened much to their new stuff, but this album has a very special place in my heart deserves much more attention. you can't tell me their grittiness doesn't make you feel like you're in the 90s

album: the questions by emery song rec: playing with fire Why should I take all the blame for all my mistakes? // You were there with every promise made to break  one of my first introductions to 'emo' music lmao this band has been a must-have on every playlist i've ever made. the vocal harmony in their music really hits the soul

#about me #music #challenge

[anvael]

COME HOME TO MY HEART.

rating: T | relationships: robin buckley/nancy wheeler | modern au

they meet in a small, shabby bar on a chilly, october night.

nancy is exhausted and freezing to death because seattle’s weather does not treat her right. it wrecks her insides and makes her want to vomit, with its awful drizzle that never stops and gray clouds that have taken the sky’s place a long time ago. since she came here, there hasn’t been a single day when the sun was shining for more than two hours. it’s so gloomy and damp and she can swear that at least half of her friends would agree that the weather here perfectly reflects her personality.

seattle sucks and consequently so does she.

it is half past nine when her cold hand reaches a metal handle of a huge, green, wooden door with a dirty window covered with half-scratched stickers that makes an entrance to some local bar she has never heard of before. she’s been running in the rain for the past fifteen minutes, looking for a place to stay until the weather calms down and if she only had more determination inside her, she would for sure find something better, but the water in her shoes does not allow her to even dream about different possibilities. as soon as soaked with cigarettes' smoke’s smell, stuffy air hits her nostrils, she’s certain that this is not a place she wanted to end up in, but a bell above her head rings pretty loudly, making sure that everyone there knows that she’s arrived. nancy wheeler hates little things like this, unnecessarily loud and not cute at all, just useless. hawkins’ stores used to be full of them. she tries to take a quick look around before anybody starts looking at her weirdly and god forbid comes near her asking about anything. the place is not even that crowded, a little bit loud of course, but she can see a few lonely tables in the corners. it’s dark in there, the windows on the right wall do not comply with their duties at all, which makes them as useless as the stupid bell.  perfect .

her first step forward causes the floor to creak so loud that she starts to wonder how old the place actually is and how it managed to not collapse for that long. she’s sure that if she was a different person the sound would charm her, make her wonder how many people stepped their feet there before, how many insanely wonderful stories happened here, it would’ve filled her heart with a need to text her friends and ramble about how they have to visit it. has anyone ever proposed to the love of their life inside a small seattle bar she’s standing in right now? how many first dates did take place here? but nancy doesn’t wonder, she shakes off the feeling and moves forward to place her order and get it over with, hoping the rain will pass at least for a while so she can come back to her flat dry. as soon as she looks up she notices the music playing in the background. they play some 2010s playlist which is so  not like seattle. the music is fun, lively and reminds her of her high school years. but the city makes her feel like she hasn’t been home in ages in the worst way possible. it’s not a nice nostalgia, it’s the feeling of longing and loneliness wrapping around her bones, shaking her muscles and overflowing her brain making it tremble from the sadness.

she takes a look at the huge menu that's hanging on the wall behind the bar. they serve almost everything that contains alcohol, from beer through whiskey to vodka and only a few other options for those who don’t want to get drunk on a monday evening.

it reminds her of a roadhouse in the suburbs back home. the one with a broken window and old rusty, chevy impala with flat tires parked in front of it since the 80s. there was a time when her dad felt particularly adventurous, probably because of a mid-life crisis, and wanted to buy the old thing. he dreamt of renovating it and taking the whole family on a country road trip. but her mother loved hawkins too much.

“what can i get you?” an unfamiliar voice drags her from her own thoughts.

READ MORE ON AO3.

#ronance #ronance fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #nancy wheeler #robin buckley

[burnedbyshoto]

i wonder

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

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

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

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

word count: 20,141

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

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You cracked your eyes open.

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

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

Wait.

CUM?!

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

Think, y/n, think!

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

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

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

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

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

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

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

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

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

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

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

“Come on, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is where you were now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was on this day that it clicked.

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

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

Disgusting.

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

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

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

So, we look back to where we started.

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

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

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

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was all unimportant and already said.

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

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

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

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

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

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck men.

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

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

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

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

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

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

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

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

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

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

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

Your mind was a drunken fever. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

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

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

You don’t think about it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a child.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...I always make it.”

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

Silence.

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

“Fend for your damn self then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Irritation runs through your veins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once he left, you felt light again.

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

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

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

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

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

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

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your friends had noticed immediately.

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

You could care less right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

As time does, it moves forward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

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

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

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

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

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

You grin.

“Obviously.”

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

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

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

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

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

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

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

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

But why did you?

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

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

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

“Anything for you, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

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

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

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

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

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were breathless.

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

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

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

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

He needed you.

Just you.

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

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

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

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

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

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n—”

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

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

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It takes your breath away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Shouto?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

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

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

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

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

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

P R E S E N T

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now that shocks you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

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

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

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

“Crybaby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was intimate, romantic even.

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

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

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

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

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

[fmdminhee]

headcanon 001. lily’s title tracks & minhee’s opinions. word count: 1,422.

notes: this is all new writing! song titles are not included in the word count. 

into the new world

nearly ten years on, minhee still insists that into the new world was an iconic debut song. she was only in her mid teens when lily debuted, and was full of hope, so ready to start a life free of her mother’s clutches. with all that in mind, there probably isn’t a better song in the world she could’ve debuted with. in the years since, so many girl groups have performed it, almost like a rite of passage, and they’ve rearranged it into a ballad version. if either of those come up, minhee will cry. she’s an ugly crier. it’s pretty embarrassing.

gee 

gee gee gee gee baby baby - hwang minhee (minnie), 2013. she wants the lyrics of gee engraved on her tombstone, if possible. it’s still one of her favourites, and not just because it was a career maker. to be honest, if they hadn’t managed to at least match it with hits going forward, she’d probably dislike it by now. but, as it stands, she loves how unabashedly cute it is. 10/10, would perform all the time if she didn’t know her members’ heads would probably explode.

nonono

nonono is super fun and super catchy, and minhee really enjoyed promoting it. nowadays it’s not one that she’d pull out immediately, preferring the comeback preceding it and the three directly after, but she likes the song. it feels very classic lily, and listening back to it, and the corresponding mini-album, makes her feel sentimental as hell.

tell me

one of minhee’s top three, i think! do not hold me or her to that. all of lily’s title tracks are bangers and ranking depends on mood. but tell me definitely consistently stays in the top five. it might not be technically as good as some of their other releases from around the same era, but it’s tied with gee and oh! for number one song that makes her hyper as fuck. it’s just too much fun, she can’t take it. she got to be wonder woman for the music video too, which was cool. everything about tell me scratches minhee’s silly little brain just right.

mr. chu

though not quite on the same level as tell me and oh!, which 100% turn minhee’s brain up to 2x speed, mr. chu still gets minhee hyped up. something about the chorus and choreography and concept just all fit correctly. she’d like to say they invented the weirdly popular girl groups on tennis courts concept, but she should probably cite her sources somewhere. it’s sort of like a more her nonono.

oh!

oh! came out around the same time that minhee was coming of age, and actually wanting to try something a little different to lily’s typical concepts, and oh!’s styling allowed her to do that -- she liked it a lot, she felt like she was the cool girl in an american high school movie. not only that, but she loves the dance and the addictive chorus too. she has about as much fun with it as she does with gee and tell me.

run devil run

when minhee said she wanted to do something different, she didn’t mean it like this. in all seriousness, run devil run is a fun song, but she appreciates it much more today than she did when they released it. the image reversal on stage was really difficult for her. still, if they were going to go down a sexy route, she hoped it wouldn’t feature so much tight leather in the future. short shorts >>>.

nobody

a very cool song, one that minhee thinks did better at showing off her versatility than run devil run, alongside showing the public lily’s more grown up and sexier sides, without going as far as run devil run did either. she got to be expressive in her face, and really had a lot of fun playing it up for the cameras. fun fact! it’s her dad’s favourite lily title track. 

genie (tell me your wish)

genie minhee’s beloved <3 truly one of their best. it’s the perfect blend of original and the at the time emerging new lily. refreshing and upbeat, flirty and fun. it’s an unbeatable combination of all the things that make lily great. she has absolutely no qualms about calling it a modern classic.

hoot

BOP. has a lot of the same positives for minhee as nobody and genie. she loves the whole old school thing from this era of lily’s title tracks. one of her personal top favourites (a contender for a slot in the ever rotating top three and five), not least thanks to the choreography in the chorus. she thinks hoot is iconic, and though yes, people would agree, she thinks it deserves to be even more of a widespread opinion. 

i got a boy

minhee’s tiny attention span loves i got a boy. she really loves it, like seriously. it’s one of lily’s most active choreographies, and she doesn’t think any other group could pull off a song like i got a boy. who else could get away with it?? she loves how youthful it feels too, and how it managed to be so without it feeling like they’d gone too far back after the mature-ish retro concepts before it. 

the boys

for minhee, the boys is kind of like run devil run’s better younger sister. run devil run was a test run, then they took the formula and made it ten times better with the boys. maybe it’s a confidence thing though. her self esteem was never low, per se, but she was definitely better equipped for a concept like this in 2017 than she was in 2015.

be my baby

retro lily best lily! minhee adores be my baby for its return to one of her favourite styles of lily song --  the kind she can really get expressive during. she could be cute and pouty up on stage again, while still acting her age. she had so much fun performing be my baby, and it’s another contender for the top five title tracks in her opinion. 

only one

only one is a nice song, for sure, but it’s pretty close to the bottom of minhee’s list. it’s like an unremarkable return to classic lily ... except it’s not fun or cute enough to satisfy minhee’s standards. weirdly, it makes her feel old. as if bc is putting an odd, grainy filter on an otherwise modern song and concept because they doubted whether or not the girls could still pull off the likes of mr. chu or nonono.

luv

luv is uncharacteristically somber when compared to pretty much all of their other title tracks, but minhee, surprisingly, likes it a lot. it’s catchy, both in its music and its choreography, and it’s a good blend of the old school drama type of vibe she gets from something like nobody or be my baby with the sweetness and sincerity of into the new world. a dark horse in minhee’s rankings.

five

five, in minhee’s opinion, is a much better attempt at whatever bc was trying to do with only one. it feels much more like proper original vibes lily, noticeably lacking the inexpiable bad vibes she got off the whole production of only one. everything about five came naturally to her.

remember

remember is a really unique song in lily’s discography in terms of its concept. the nautical summery themes also sort of reminded minhee of nonono and the sailor outfits they wore all the way back then. in the grand scheme of things, it lands squarely towards the end of minhee’s list in terms of preference, but above only one.

mr. mr.

ULTRA BOP. minhee loves mr. mr. so much. it’s got all of the retro influences that she adores, topped with a modern electronic dance flair. she’s conceited, so if you ask her, she’ll tell you that lily were the trendsetters behind retro coming back, citing mr. mr. and, like, half of their earlier title tracks for good measure. again, she’s come a long way since run devil run, and is much more comfortable being cool as well as cute now.

i’m so sick

i’m so sick is retro leaning, has a fun dance, and the styling makes minhee feel like a sad princess in a fantasy version of modern day. it’s perfect. she doesn’t love it as much as a lot of their previous releases, but she thinks it’s a really good concept for them to run with in 2021. she’d admittedly been sort of doubting bc and her decision to renew her contract because of her gripes with only one and remember, but thanks to 2021′s releases, minhee feels pretty satisfied with her choice.

#( * hc ) #important!!! bc i've been thinking abt this after listening to my lily playlist on repeat since the restructure was revealed!!!! #gonna do a couple things on eunah and then /: clear out my room so i can get new carpet put down lol and then hopefully either tn or tomorro #i can reply to everyone's messages properly!!! i slept in today even after going to bed early so i'm a little behind schedule

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #306

i’m v talkative today so pardon my jabbering below.

What is the strangest type of candy you have eaten? I think I've had one of those lollipops with a bug in it before as a kid? I don't remember. What would be your most ideal profession? A freelance photographer. But I'm honestly starting to lose hope. Have you tried those coloring books for adults? Yeah; it's funny you mention 'em, 'cuz a family friend got me one for my birthday earlier this month. What is a topic you definitely don't want to talk about with anyone? I don't like talking about my sexual history, doesn't matter who you are. It's just uncomfortable. What was your first gaming console? An Atari. Is there something you're eagerly waiting for? What is it? *SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE* MAY NEEDS TO FUCKIN' HURRY. My tattoo appointment is set then. :''') Do you/have you ever belonged to an organization? If so, which one? I was a Girl Scout when I was young. What is something you're very passionate about? Nature conservation, gay rights (equal rights in general, really), the pro-choice movement, and then there are less "important" things like certain hobbies interests and such. I'm sure there are more big ones that are just slipping my mind right now, considering I feel passionately for a shitload of stuff. What are you studying or what was the last thing you studied? I majored in Art & Design with a focus on Photography in college. But guess who dropped out. What was the last present you gave someone? I don't know... I mention enough that I don't have a source of income where I can really buy anything. I think the last thing I did was a Christmas gift for Mom a year or two back of a drawing I did of our late dog Cali, whom she absolutely adored. Do you enjoy plays? If so, what was the latest one you saw? Not really, no. What was the last thing you achieved? PHP has helped me focus on little victories, so prepare for an underwhelming answer haha, but it's something. I Facebook messaged an old friend I really wanted to catch up with, and everyone in group cheered for me. :') It was really heartwarming. What a shocker that this program is really helping me once again. What is something you would like to achieve at some point in your life? I would love love love to take at least one "famous" or award-winning photograph. It'd be such amazing validation that I'm talented at something I love so much. What is one philosophy you have regarding life/living/purpose? That's... difficult to answer seeing as I'm trying desperately to find my purpose. I do try to live by this old quote a therapist said once: "Deal with life, or life deals with you." I think it holds an incredible amount of depth and meaning in such a short phrase. How would you design the inside of your own home? I don't know the details of it, really, besides that shit is gonna look like a Halloween house year-round. I can imagine wanting black furniture, too, and having loooots of decor expressive of what I love and find comfort in. Gotta make a house feel like a home just for me. What is a band you remember liking from your childhood? Backstreet Boys, duh. Do you ever get mad at people for not having the same opinion as you (i.e. abortion being wrong/right, meat-eating being wrong/right)? Two things: it depends on the topic, and "get mad" is the wrong term for what I feel. It's more disgust; ex., I'm repulsed by anti-gay rights people and want absolutely nothing to do with 'em, but I'm not like, mad at them. Do you edit any of your pictures? In what ways? Oh yeah, and it definitely depends on the raw photograph. I edit depending on the mood it emanates; like if you've seen my roadkill photography versus nature shots, there is an extremely distinct difference in editing style and vibe. I'd say in general though, I tend to like to brighten my photographs and add more vibrance. If you like to take pictures, what is your motivation? God, I could write an essay on this. I just love and am so thankful for the fact we can literally freeze time forever with the click of a button and look back on fantastic sights, beautiful moments, memories... It's just magical to me, and I adore contributing to that art. Would you ever consider living anywhere cold? Well yeah, that's my preference, actually. What is your absolute favorite food? The spicy shrimp fritas from Olive Garden, jfc. Would you ever wear snake-skin pants, or other animal clothing? Fuck to the absolute hell no. What foreign country would you like to go to for a shopping spree? Idk, considering I'm not well-versed in the artistic creations of other countries. Perhaps India? Japan? I dunno. If you met your favorite musician, what would you ask him/her? I'm asking for his fucking autograph and a hug while I smile my face in two AND cry lmao. What do you spend most of your day thinking about? I ain't gonna bullshit nobody, my PTSD. In some way or another, he's lurking in that head of mine through memories, flashbacks, wonders of what could have gone differently... but thank God it's no longer in the forefront of my mind after my first PHP. I've come very, very far, but especially when trying to blank out my mind to fall asleep, parts of PTSD strangle my brain until I'm just finally out. I really hope that changes someday. Where is a busy place you would like to go to? Yikes, nowhere, really. I like to avoid busy locations. Do you think video games cause people to become violent? Absolutely not. You are responsible for the decisions you make; music, games, movies, etc. have no deciding voice in stupid shit you do, and it's bullshit that people blame art and entertainment for such things. Vocabulary: What was the last word you learned? I'm unsure. Have you or could you build your own site? Absolutely not from scratch. The closest I've gotten to that is my photography website, but it was through the assistance of Wix. What's the best thing you can cook yourself? Scrambled eggs, haha. I do make some bomb eggs at least. Are there a lot of graffiti around your neighborhood? No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. God, I want to go vegetarian again... Besides English, what other languages can you speak? I can speak a very little bit of German. Took four semesters of it in high school and became very good at it, but lack of practice has pretty much ruined that. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well; as in, I can pronounce most words I see, but that doesn't mean I understand what is written. Do you think you could make it as a chef? Gordon Ramsey would deadass kick me off his show on day one, lmao. What's your favorite kind of tea? It marvels me JUST how many tea and coffee questions are in surveys. Anyway, I don't like tea. I am an embarrassment to NC culture. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you've been? lask;dfjal;wekrjwe What's the most freeing thing you've ever done? Stealing my happiness back from someone who had no right to hold it all in its entirety. That shit's mine. Do you think today's kids are really impatient? Most, probably, but in some ways I can understand it - at least, in the sense that with the assistance of modern technology and advancements in satiating our wants so quickly, kids just expect it. I definitely believe that patience is something to try to be deeply instilled in everyone, though. I don't have an ounce of it (in most situations) and wish I did. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? One of my favorite Southern experiences is finding a bunch of honeysuckles and tasting the honey (is it technically even honey??). Tastes amazing. My family's hairdresser lives down a beautiful path that sprouts a massive amount of them, and as kids, my sisters and her two boys would go tasting them while our parents talked for so long, or if we were waiting our turn. Good memories. What has been your worst restaurant experience? I'm not sure, really. What's the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? "Inappropriate humor type jokes." <<<< They can get me sometimes, too. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? No, thankfully. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? I don't believe so, no. Besides making a tye-dye one in HS with our school colors. Wasn't my idea and never wore it, haha. Do you ever read other people's survey answers? It depends on the person. If it's a friend, absolutely, because I love learning usually obscure things about them I wouldn't have known otherwise. If it's a user I don't know from wherever I got the survey, sometimes, depending on how short the answer is and my eyes kinda just scroll over it. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, especially mornings. I'm generally happier when there's light around. What's your highest level of education so far? Some college. Describe your ordinary day: My average day is embarrassingly uneventful. It's sitting on the laptop doing shit on various sites, none of which are actually important, and playing WoW, which is also without true substance, save for social interactions with my friends on there. I spray Venus' terrarium everyday multiple times as well to keep the humidity up, and obviously eat and handle that kinda bodily needs stuff. Would you ever have a UV tattoo? Ugh, that'd be so dope. I've seen some awesome ones, but idk if I'd get one, considering when am I actually going to be under UV light?? Like I wanna be able to see my tat. What is the brand and color name of your favorite lipstick? I have one black lipstick, but it comes right off so I don't even like it. I only ever put it on to take pictures. What do you like on your tortilla? Just ham and cheese. How about inside your pita bread? I've never had pita bread, actually. What do you like in your burger? It depends on where I'm getting the burger. My basic is cheese, ketchup, mustard, a bit of mayo, pickles, and a light sprinkle of diced onion, but sometimes I add bacon and take away the onions. How about on your pizza? I have three I tend to pick from: pepperoni, jalapeno, or meat lovers. Do you work better alone or in a group? Alone, definitely. Which body part would you not mind losing? I'ma be extremely honest, with just how horribly weak my legs are, I could live without them, I guess. Not saying I want to by any means, it's just exhausting using them. Ideally, I'd take away something minor, like a finger or something. What common saying people use is absolute BS to you? “'Everything happens for a reason.'” <<<< Fuckin' colossal "same." I won't rag on people who believe it, especially if it gives you courage to keep moving forward, but I don't believe it in the slightest. If it were so, I'd like to talk to whoever is in control of those "reasons," please. What is the most interesting thing you’ve read or seen this week? I had no idea elephants were pregnant for two years, like holy shit, can you imagine. It was in an article I saw on Facebook about a mother and daughter elephant who are both expecting and doing well. Wonderful to hear. What’s the most useless talent you have? Ha, I'm a master in the arts of catastrophizing and jumping to conclusions involving people hating me in one way or another. What’s something everyone looks stupid doing? I'm one of those people who hate dabbing done by anybody, like you look like you're just smelling your armpit. Which kids’ movie scarred you for life? I wouldn't say "scarred me for life" by any means, but when I was little, I was terrified of the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz and even had nightmares about her. It sucked because my little sister was obsessed with that movie, haha. In one sentence, how would you sum up the Internet? A source of incredible knowledge but also hate and misinformation. What would be the most ridiculous thing for the government to make illegal? I literally dread the idea of Roe vs. Wade being reversed. Banning abortion would kill so many people with operational uteruses and cause absolute pandemonium. How many friends do you have on social media and how many of them do you know for real? On Facebook, I have 124 friends, and I'd say I know most of them "in real life." However, having been on the Internet since I was so young and befriending loads of incredible people, a good chunk are "online friends." Hell, I'm more interested in their lives than most "real" ones. Long-distance friendships are so valid. What fact amazes you every time you think of it? Lots of things, generally regarding the stupidity of humanity. What’s the most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done? Probably going to the beach w/ my old friend Colleen. We had zero plans of doing it, but she just called me one morning and asked if I wanted to go, and off we went. It was a fun day. What has taken up too much of your life? I'ma be real, WoW. I don't think I'm addicted to it like I once was seeing as I go through spans where I barely want to play it at all and don't, so I truly am capable of not playing it, but rather it's just the most entertaining way to kill time in my life. I just don't like how much time I've invested into a game over six or seven years regardless. Where do you not mind waiting? Uh, nowhere lmao. Is there an app you hate to use, but still use every day? No; why would I use it if that was the case? Who is the funniest person you know? My friend Girt is fucking hysterical. What three words describe you best? Complex, passionate, and creative. What makes you think you’re smart? Lol who says I think I'm smart? Who inspires you? Korean Jesus. Okay on a serious note, not just him, of course, but he's #1 in an entire universe of ways. Do you aspire to be like somebody else? If so, who? No; I want to be my own authentic self. How did you meet your best friend? YouTube, back when it had more social aspects. Which one of your accomplishments are you the most proud of? I want to say my recovery, but like... I wonder a lot if it's "enough" to be proud of with how scarred I still am? I still struggle with a lot and feel like I could be so much better by now if I tried harder. If I'm completely honest with myself, I think it's finishing high school in the top percentile of my graduating class. There was a ceremony for the handful of us and all, and I cherish my plaque probably too much. Reminds me of a time when I knew what the fuck I was doing. What's the strangest thing you ever did as a child? Thinking I had "animal powers" where I could invoke the traits of certain animals at will, like what the actual fuck, Brittany. What did your mother teach you? Christ, a lot. Dad didn't do a lot of the raising, honestly, so much of my core values and whatnot were instilled by my mother. She taught me to care for and be nice to others, respect myself, try my best in everything, and most importantly that she is always there for me and my sisters no matter what and can tell her absolutely anything. She was very serious about us going to college and saving sex for marriage when we were younger, but she diverged from those ideas as absolutely necessary with experience. I'm extremely lucky with who I call my mom, overall. What did your father teach you? Eek... Read above. Not a lot as a kid (save for riding a bike and playing softball); most he's taught me has come following reuniting with him after my parents' divorce. I remember we went to lunch once and talked about my breakup, and he talked to me about sometimes, you just have to let people go in order to be happy, like with him and Mom. He's very serious now about ensuring us girls know that he is always there for us and will help us in any way he's capable. What makes you feel powerful? "Powerful" isn't something I really feel, if I'm being real. What are you ready to let go? It would be inexplicably fantastic if I could let every speck of Jason go in both my head and heart. What is your most bizarre deal-breaker? I don't really find any of my expectations and limits as "bizarre?" They're all valid to me. Well wait, idk if you'd find it strange that I absofuckinglutely would not date someone who hunts, but it's not to me. That's a difference in a very serious value to me. Would you rather be hated or forgotten? Hated. God, I don't want to leave this earth having given just nothing. I can live with some people hating me for whatever reason. What’s the biggest personal change you’ve made? Accepting my bisexuality, probably. That's something that I consider pretty big for two reasons: 1.) I could end up with a woman forever, and especially 2.) I was originally homophobic. I still have difficulty in fathoming how I ever was. What are some of your short-term goals? PHP is finally starting to make me build these again. I want to get better at selfcare, draw, write, and read more, I want to drink a lot more water, exercise way more... Lots of things, really. What is the weirdest thing about you? Uh. I dunno. Probably that I RP meerkats, which is a very obscure RP niche for sure.

#survey #surveys #questions

[rainbow-sides]

A Hand to Hold: Chapter Seven

Summary: Patton befriends an isolated boy at his high school and soon develops feelings for him that aren’t just friendship. Navigating a relationship of any kind with Logan Barry isn’t easy, but it sure is worth it!

Pairings: romantic Logicality, possible background Prinxiety but I haven’t decided yet

Word Count: 1,739

Warnings: talk about bullying, ableism from a parent, very brief mention of Deceit, mentions of abusive therapy (implied ABA), food mention, mild spoilers for Doctor Who, anxiety, school stress,

Notes: ATTENTION I am no longer using a taglist. Instead, please follow and click notifications for the blog @rainbow-sides-fics. I’ll be reblogging all of my old fics there as well as any new ones I’ll be posting. Alternatively, A Hand to Hold is now available on AO3. Love you guys! <3 ~Martin

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

___________________________________

“GCAT PUPY PUPY,” Virgil chanted, his palms pressed to his temples. “Guanine and adenine are purines, cytosine and thymine are pyrimidines. Right?”

Logan nodded. “Correct. Well remembered.”

“Thank God for mnemonics.” Virgil popped a chip into his mouth. “Okay. Okay. What else is on the study guide?”

“It says to understand 5’ and 3’ directionality, decoding amino acid sequencing, and be able to explain the process of DNA replication as well as translation from DNA to proteins,” Logan said, summarizing the study guide for what was probably the fourth or fifth time. Although he knew that Virgil obviously knew the material, he got anxious during tests. He had asked Logan to help study with him so he felt more prepared.

“I feel like I know all of that, but there's got to be a catch, right? I'm gonna fail. I'm gonna fail.” He started to breathe too quickly.

Chex, who had been resting on the floor next to Virgil's chair, sat up. She nudged Virgil's leg with her nose and let out a soft whine.

Virgil buried his hand in the fur on the back of the dog's neck and took a deep breath. “No, I'm probably not going to fail. I've never failed a test in this class before, and I've been doing all the work.”

“I don't believe that you will fail,” Logan agreed. He twisted the ring on his finger, not sure what else to say. 

He wanted to help Virgil, but anxiety was complicated and Logan wasn't great at complicated emotions. Logan figured it was probably best to leave that to Patton. And Chex, of course. The sweet black lab was so in tune with Virgil's anxiety that she could tell even before he started to have an attack and would remind him to redirect his energy into more productive avenues.

“Would you like to keep studying?” asked Logan. “I have vocabulary cards for the whole unit, and there is always a vocabulary section on the test.”

Virgil nodded. “Sure, vocab practice sounds good. Hey, um, thanks again for coming over to study with me. It's nice to have a friend in that class now, I'm less stressed about it.”

Logan thought that Virgil still seemed very stressed. He didn't voice that opinion. “Codon,” he said, holding up the first vocabulary card.

“Uhh, uh, it's any series of three nitrogen bases that code for a specific amino acid, right?”

“Correct. Peptide bond.”

Virgil looked up at the ceiling. “It's...uh, well, peptide is referring to proteins, so...bonds between proteins?”

“Bonds between amino acids,” Logan corrected. “Okasaki fragments.”

“Oh shit,” Virgil muttered. “Um, something about the leading strand?”

“Lagging strand. Okazaki fragments are the stretches of DNA that are copied piece by piece on the lagging strand,” said Logan. He spun the ring on his finger again. He hoped that Virgil wouldn't get worried that he wasn't getting all of the vocabulary right.

“Right! I remember now.”

“Operon.”

“Oh, hey, I know this one. A group of genes that are functionally related,” Virgil said.

“Correct. Intron.”

They kept going until all of the vocabulary cards had been discussed. Logan put aside the ones that Virgil had struggled on so he could keep looking at them later.

“Seriously, thank you so much for coming and helping me out,” Virgil said. “I feel much better about the test on Thursday.”

Logan flicked his hand up near the side of his face. “You're welcome,” he said.

“I don't think I'm going to be able to cram much more into my brain right now, I need a break. Hey, how's the Doctor Who marathon with Patton going?” Virgil wondered.

With a slight bounce in his seat, Logan replied, “We watched Boom Town this weekend! On Wednesday afternoon, he is coming to my house to watch Bad Wolf and The Parting of Ways!”

Virgil leaned forward. “Oh, man, you're already almost to Nine's regeneration? Does Patton know it's coming?”

“Yes, and he says that he will miss Eccleston, but that he's seen David Tennant in other things and is looking forward to meeting Ten,” Logan said happily. He hummed to himself for a second before adding, “I am looking forward to reaching Ten's episodes, he is my favorite modern Doctor.”

“I gotta say, I like Capaldi. He's grumpier. More my style. Though Tennant at the end of his run is cool, he gets dark and edgy.” Virgil grinned. “The new season with Jodie Whittaker was freaking fantastic, too.”

“Much agreed,” Logan said. “I appreciate having a larger group of companions again, and the diversity has improved recently.”

Virgil scratched Chex behind the ears. “Yeah, big team TARDIS's are fun. One of my favorites was at the end of Journey's End was when they were all flying the TARDIS like she's supposed to be flown.”

Logan nodded. “May I ask you a question?” he said suddenly.

“Yeah, course.”

“What does it feel like to you when you are excited about something? Such as when you are talking about or watching Doctor Who, or listening to the music you like?” Logan asked.

There was a long pause as Virgil thought about that. “It makes me happy, I guess.”

“How does it physically feel?” Logan pressed.

“Oh, jeez, I'm not sure. It almost makes me feel peaceful? Like, um, listening to my music makes my mind slow down for just a little while. My body feels more relaxed afterwards. Same with watching something I like. It's a comfort, almost.” Virgil tapped his fingers against the table. “This is a tough question, dude.”

Logan leaned back in his chair. “I apologize.”

“No, it's okay. Really, I just need to think for a minute. Um...it feels warm in my chest sometimes. I guess that's about it. Well, starting a new episode almost feels like anxiety for me. But then again, most emotions turn into anxiety for me. That's just how anxiety works,” Virgil said. Then he asked, “What does it feel like for you?”

Putting his hands on his chest, Logan says, “I'm not sure. I have alexithymia, so I have a difficult time labeling emotions. I can sometimes describe it in physical sensations, though. And my excitement about my special interests feels like my heart and my lungs and my stomach are all on fire, if being on fire felt good and didn't hurt.”

“Sounds intense.”

“It is.” Logan looked down as Chex put her head against his leg. Her sweet brown eyes blinked up at him, and a soft warmth spread through his chest. “Hello,” he said. “Hello, Chex. Your ears are very soft.” He stroked her head.

“She wants to make sure that you're okay,” Virgil said. “She...she can hear changes in people's voices and checks up on them, even if it isn't me.”

“I'm alright. I don't have excellent volume control, or tone control. I never know what I sound like, exactly.” He couldn't tear his eyes away from the beautiful dog. “But I suppose that talking about my experiences with emotion do cause me some distress, which could have emerged in my voice without my noticing.”

Virgil stood up and walked over to the living room. “Want to come sit over here, Lo?” he offered.

“Um, alright.” Logan went over to join him. Chex followed him, and all three of them sat down on the ground. “Why?”

“Why does talking about your emotions distress you?” Virgil asked.

Logan froze up. “Because they are difficult,” he said slowly. “And I do not understand them. I do not like talking to people about things I do not understand.”

“Are you worried that someone might tell you that your emotions are wrong?”

A confused, bad feeling swirled around inside him. Chex laid her head and front paws in his lap, and he felt calmer. “Perhaps, but I'm not sure that I understand the question,” Logan admitted, running his hands down the dog's fur. It was almost as soothing as a full-body stim, and the pressure of her weight against his legs added to that effect.

“I mean, do you think that someone will come along and tell you that the way you are labeling your emotions is wrong? That the words you use to describe your experiences are incorrect?” Virgil tried to clarify.

“Yes, that is what happens.” It had happened many times before. The way he tried to describe what he was feeling to his mother or to his therapists had often been misinterpreted or simply ignored because it didn't make sense. Logan had learned to keep quiet about what he was feeling.

“But you're talking to me about it, even though it...scares you?” Virgil checked. “Is that right?”

Logan shifted. “Yes.”

Virgil smiled. “I think that means you trust me. Thank you.”

“I do trust you,” Logan said. “And I have learned that you and Patton and Roman are worthy of my trust. You've never once tried to make me act normally, or made fun of me.”

“It sucks that the bar is so low,” sighed Virgil.

Logan kept petting Chex. “I don't know that that means, exactly, in this context.”

“Um, it means that I don't think that somebody not laughing at you or trying to change you into something you're not should be the bar, the threshold or limit, for whether or not you can trust them. I mean...I guess what I really mean is that it sucks that you don't get that from everyone. In a perfect world, nobody would make fun of anyone or try to change them,” Virgil explained.

“But we do not live in a perfect world,” Logan reminded him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I know that very well.”

Chex whined softly and raised her head to look at Virgil. Her tail thumped a few times against the floor, and he scooted closer to put his hand on her back. He closed his eyes. Logan didn't say anything. They sat there petting Chex in silence for a while, and it was a soothing silence. Logan felt much calmer and less bad by the time his mother arrived to pick him up and take him home. 

He sat in the living room and watched Ian flutter around his plants as the afternoon trailed on. His mother chatted to him as she cleaned and prepared dinner, but he wasn't listening. He was off in his own head, trying to imagine a perfect world.

___________________________________

Sorry for the long wait and the fairly short chapter! I’m working on the next one. But also I’m going back to work next week, and school starts a couple weeks after that, so who knows when I’m going to have time to write? Ah, well. I’ll do what I can.

And hey, check out Time and Time’s Turning if you like my writing! It’s a fairy AU with eventual Royality and Analogical. Also, it has art!!!!! <3 ~Martin

#a hand to hold #my writing #logicality #romantic logicality #platonic analogical #logicality fic #autistic logan

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Perfectly Unexpected Colson Baker X Reader

Word Count: 2,250

Warnings: None kinda fluffy lol

There weren’t many things in life you genuinely didn’t like - all in all, you considered yourself a positive person. But you wouldn’t be a human being living in a modern society without ever coming across some aspects of life you could definitely do without.

Like Brussel sprouts, for example. Or ingratitude. Or, when looking at society as a whole, phenomenons like social injustice. Sure, you weren’t a perfect person, and you certainly didn’t want to end up as a hypocrite pointing fingers at others while simultaneously not practicing what you preached.

Yet that certainly didn’t stop you from standing up for your beliefs in front of others - a character trait which kept your circle of friends relatively small, but that was fine with you. Having a handful of truly trustworthy and honest people in your life was better than having a few thousand superfacial acquaintances – at least to you, it was.

Besides the previously mentioned things, there was something else you really, really didn’t like.

Blind Dates.

Now, of course blind dates weren’t generally a bad thing. But, much like listening to a song over and over again until you came to hate it eventually, blind dates had been pretty much ruined for you.

All thanks to your best friend, Jewels. You loved her, you adored her, but sometimes, you just really wanted to strangle her. More times than you could recall, she’d convinced you to go on a blind date with a guy of her choice. Each time, you’d tried to talk her out of it, but she would have none of it – and in the end, she was more persistent and you were too much of a harmony junkie to rebuff her.

The first few times, you’d been genuinely excited for your dates. When it came to dating and relationships, you were pretty “old school” – you loved the concept of meeting someone through shared interests, the idea of fateful encounters – of romance just in general, really. Of course you weren’t naïve enough to believe in something as ridiculous as the concept of “love at first sight” (well, maybe you were, but you certainly wouldn’t tell anyone about it).

Yet you still couldn’t help letting your expectations running rampant in those few seconds before your blind date would eventually walk in and crush all of them within mere minutes.

One time, Jewels had set you up with a guy she’d met on the subway – seriously, who does that? – and while he’d seemed interesting enough at first, he’d proceeded to shamelessly flirt with and swoon over all of the female waitresses and fellow guests during your date, leaving you sitting there to mend your wounded pride while he ended up getting punched in the face by the boyfriend of a lady whom he confessed his “eternal love” to.

Another time, you’d ended up with a man who was quite a few years your senior, but other than that, pretty much the full package – beautiful red hair, a few scars that only added to his charm, a stunning smile, and some humor on top of all that. It could’ve been perfect – had you not found out about his wife and child by coincidence a few days later.

You could vividly remember how furious you’d been and how Jewels had sincerely apologized, assuring you that she’d just met the guy through mutual friends and that she’d had no idea about his little double life.

But none of that was quite as devastating as your latest blind date – and, as you’d promised yourself after that evening, your last. You should’ve known something was wrong with the guy as soon as he managed to use about 10 different curse words within the first five minutes of conversation. But you didn’t want to seem snobbish or superficial, so you’d tried to give him a fair chance.

Well, let’s just say he managed to start a fight with an entire group of men seated at the table next to you, and the evening had ended with you being questioned by the police. Yikes.

After all those experiences, you were pretty sure any sane person would never agree to go on a blind date ever again, let alone one set up by your best friend. But alas, either you were suffering from temporary insanity, or Jewles was just some kind of witch, because yet again, she’d managed to convince you.

At least this time, you wouldn’t be alone – since your blind date tonight was actually her boyfriend’s friend/bandmate, Jewels and Rook would be accompanying the both of you, making it a double date. According to your best friend, Rook’s friend was none other than the infamous Machine Gun Kelly!

You and Jewels were currently getting ready before meeting up with the boys at the restaurant.

“Jewels, I don’t want to go, please don’t make me!” you whined.

“You already said yes, (Y/N)! I can’t just call it off now!” Jewels answered, munching on some marshmallows she’d brought with her. “Besides, you’re gonna love Colson, he’s perfect for you!”

“Yeah, well, according to you, all the other guys were perfect, too,” you deadpanned.

Jewels just rolled her eyes at you. “Yeah, but Colson is Rook’s friend and brother, and let's be honest, my boyfriend is pretty damn hot.”

Is she for real right now?

You couldn’t help but laugh at your friend’s brazenness.

“Ok, first of all, that doesn’t even make sense, since you already told me they’re not blood-related. Second of all, looks aren’t everything, and lastly: EW! He’s YOUR boyfriend, I’ve told you before that automatically turns him into a neutral being I wouldn’t ever think about in a sexual way! Like … a nice fruit basket!”

“Well you do know fruit baskets can potentially include bananas, and-“

You groaned. “Why are we friends again?”

“Because you love me. Now hurry up and get dressed, or we’re gonna be late!” 

A little while later...

You had taken a little longer to get ready than usual, since, unlike all the other times before, Jewels hadn’t given you advice on what to wear to impress your date.

“Just… be yourself, I think that’ll impress him.”

Maybe this date wasn’t going to be as disastrous as all the others. Maybe, just maybe, this guy was actually different. Or maybe you were just a hopeless romantic born in the wrong century.

You were just about to enter the restaurant when Jewles let out a loud squeal, making you turn around to see the guys arrive.

Looks Aren't Everything,don't be super facial,stay calm-

HOLY shit.

Blonde, shaggy hair, the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes you’d probably ever seen, and a scar… he was undeniably handsome.

You swallowed. Suddenly, you were feeling just a little more nervous than minutes before.

Ok, a lot more nervous.

He politely greeted Jewles before turning over to you. But instead of shamelessly checking you out, like some of your previous date had done, he simply smiled at you, keeping eye contact the entire time.

“Yo, I’m Colson, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand. Ok, this guy was way more polite than you would’ve expected.

And a lot cuter.

Shut up, brain!

“Nice to meet you, too. I’m (Y/N), but I’m sure you already knew that.”

He laughed quietly. It was a soft, warm sound, and you knew immediately you wanted to hear it again. “I do, actually. I hope you’re not uncomfortable with those two” – he pointed over at Rook and Jewles, who were still busy eating each others faces – “setting us up.” Even though it was already quite dark outside, you could make out just the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

Adorable.

“N-No, it’s alright, I’m actually quite glad that it’s with someone like you.” A second later, you realized how that had sounded, blushing profusely. “Oh my god, that sounded so superficial, I apologize. I’m just- uhm… a little nervous.” You smiled in what you hoped was a genuine way (and prayed it didn’t make you look as idiotic as you felt).

“Don’t worry, I know what you meant. I’m a little nervous, too, actually.” He reached up to scratch his neck.

You were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you. Turning around, you were met with a shit-eating grin from Jewles.

“So, should we go inside or do you two lovebirds need another minute?”

A while later…

“What?! So you’re saying that even though you love music, you’ve never been to one a live show?” Colson asked you excitedly.

“No, I haven’t. I’m just not a big fan of large crowds, you know? Makes me kind of anxious.”

He shook his head in mock disapproval, making you giggle. “No, this will not stand. Next time I’m going, I’m taking you with me. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you, so don’t worry.”

You blushed. After the initial awkwardness, you and Colson had basically been talking non-stop for the last hour or so. Jewles had been right – for the first time ever on a blind date, you were able to just be yourself, and feel comfortable doing so. Colson not only shared many interests and ideals, he was also incredibly charming and polite. Even though you wouldn’t admit it out loud – at least not to Jewles, who kept wiggling her eyebrows each time you looked her way – this was completely different from your previous dates.

The scar covering his eye had been caused by an accident, which had taken place while shooting off guns during down time, and he’d also told you a lot about his love for his other band mates. Apparently, they are very close.

“So, what do you want to do after you’re done with this tour?” you asked, taking another sip from your drink.

He cocked his head slightly, taking a moment to think. “Uhm, I’m actually not sure. I’ve done a couple of projects, so there’s quite a few directions I could potentially go in, but I actually like the idea of just living in the moment. Career is important and all, but so many people just forget to have fun along the way, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I couldn’t agree more! And even if you make tons of plans, who says they’ll actually work out in the end? Life’s full of surprises, anyway.”

“It is, indeed.” The way he looked at you just then made you think he was referring to you, or this… whatever this was or could be, and it made you smile like an idiot and blush as red as a tomato at the same time.

Left completely dumbfounded, you were desperately trying to come up with some sort of witty answer, but had no idea what to say. He just smiled, still looking at you, before asking: “Hey, uhm.. you want to go get some fresh air for a second?”

Feeling clueless as to why he’d ask but somehow also excited, you got up immediately.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Jewles asked, looking as self-satisfied as ever.

“We’re just going to get some fresh air, we’ll be back in a second,” you replied, unable to keep blushing yet again when your best friend simply cocked an eyebrow as an answer.

Once the two of you were outside, you took a deep breath before looking at him, really looking at him. Your heart started beating faster and you were feeling like a teenager who was crushing on someone for the first time, despite only having just met this man.

You were royally screwed.

He looked right back at you, and smiled before scratching his neck once more.

“I’d actually really like to kiss you right now,” he said, taking all your breath away with just one sentence. “But I’m not going to, because this evening – no, you, have been so perfect and I don’t wanna ruin it by moving too fast.” You both spent a moment in comfortable silence before he added: “Uh, that is, if you’re even feeling the same way.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Colson, do you really need to ask?”

He chuckled. “I guess not.” He took a look at his watch before grinning cheekily. “So, why don’t we get out of here?”

“O-out of here? Why- I mean where would we go?”

“Doesn’t matter. We could go look for a place that still sells ice cream at his hour, or just drive around in circles all night while talking about whatever we want. What do you say?”

Well, that was unexpected. And a little reckless. But you couldn’t say you didn’t like it.

“But, uhm… what about the other two?” you asked, slightly unsure if it would be alright to simply ditch your friend.

“I think they’re going to be just fine on their own, don’t you think?”

You took a look through the glass windows to see Jewles and Rook sharing what was probably the biggest pizza you’d seen in your entire life.

Colson was right – they’d be just fine.

He held out his hand for you, and you took it, immediately intertwining your fingers with his.

As the two of you started running down the street to his car, giggling and laughing like little kids, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, you hadn’t been born in the wrong century, after all.

#machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly #colson baker x reader #colson baker imagine #fan fiction

[writerspink]

K-12 Words

K

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3.2

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4.1

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4.2

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5.1

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5.2

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6.1

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6.2

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7.1

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7.2

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8.1

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8.2

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9.1

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9.2

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10.1

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10.2

warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %

K-12 Words was originally published on PinkWrite

[palettepainter]

Are you going to try and get more Muppet vinyls? If so which ones?

My Muppet vinyl collection so far has actually come pretty far since I got my record player in July!

The Muppets Mayhem was my first Muppets Vinyl (I love it so much I still need a moment to process the emotions Bridge Over Troubled Water gives me)

I got the Great Muppet Caper with my leftover Birthday money, my fav Muppet movie since it was the first Muppet movie I ever watched growing up and we had it on VHS

I got the vinyl for the OG movie recently (as you may be aware that post has gotten pretty popular) and I LOVE IT!! I miss when music and audio was more scratchy and not totally perfect, old music (like old-school Disney songs) just scratch my brain in such a way modern music has never been able to!

I might try to get The Muppets Take Manhattan on vinyl, if it’s available, but I feel like I’d have to rewatch the movie to remind myself of the songs. I only really remember “You Can’t Take No For An Answer” and “It’s Time For Saying Goodbye”

I may get some with the Muppet show songs since I’ve found loads of them online, but again I think I’d have to finish watching the Muppets Show to familiarise myself with the songs (my fav songs so far from the OG show are “You Know I’ll Bring Her Back Someday” sang by Floyd and “Rockin’ Robin” by the band. I’d buy those songs on vinyl in a heartbeat!)

#The Muppets #Vinyl #Muppets

[funnythingshere0-blog]

50 Amazing Dad Quotes for Father's Day

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50 Amazing Dad Quotes for Father's Day

He may not wear a cape but…

Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock“Dad is, and always will be, my living, breathing superhero.” –Bindi Irwin, daughter of the late Steve Irwin. Crocodile hunter Steve Irwin was taken too young, but devoted daughter Bindi keeps his memory alive by continuing his conservation work and spreading his love for all animals (even the “scary” ones). For more heartwarming stories read about these dads sharing the most touching Father’s Day gift they ever received.

All dads have rules—all kids break them

Rido/Shutterstock“My sisters and I can still recite Dad’s grilling rules: Rule No. 1: Dad is in charge. Rule No. 2: Repeat Rule No. 1.” –Connie Schultz. Dads are just little boys who love setting things on fire but all grown up. So you either have to choose a life of arson or barbecue—thankfully most dads choose the grill.

Why can nobody in this house turn off a light?!

Dragon Images/Shutterstock“By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he’s wrong.” –Charles Wadsworth, a classical pianist. One day you look in the mirror and realize that not only do you look like your dad, you act like him and sound like him too. If you’re really lucky, he’ll even be around to point it out to you.

Dad-fashion rule #1

valbar/Shutterstock“You can tell what was the best year of your father’s life because he seems to freeze that clothing style and ride it out.” –Jerry Seinfeld.  Dads get a lot of flack for their cargo shorts, old t-shirts, and white (grass-stained) sneakers, but the truth is they were saving their money to make sure you had nice clothes. OK, and they really just love those shorts. So. Many. Pockets.

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Want to know how to be a good man? Learn from the best.

bondart/Shutterstock“Mom and Dad were married 64 years. And if you wondered what their secret was, you could have asked the local florist—because every day Dad gave Mom a rose, which he put on her bedside table.” –Mitt Romney. Romney credits his dad with teaching him how to be a husband and father. Now, grab a tissue because the post-script makes this story of a decades-long marriage even sweeter. “That’s how my mom found out what happened on the day my father died—she went looking for him because that morning, there was no rose,” he added.

How to give your kids good self-esteem

Phovoir/Shutterstock“I asked my dad if I looked fat in my bathing suit at the beach and he said ‘Keep drinking and you won’t care.” –Hannah S, from The Tonight Show. This dad has certainly figured out one hilarious answer to the “Does this make me look fat?” question. For more fatherly wisdom, check out funny advice dads will love.

Dads set examples

Andrij Garry/Shutterstock“My father didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.” –Clarence Budington Kelland, author. Great dads know that telling your child to do something is a recipe for complaining, but working alongside your child is a recipe for lifelong success and adoration.

Well played, dad, well played

Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock“When I was little my dad had me convinced the ice cream truck only played music when it was sold out.” –Anonymous. The ease with which some dads come up with “creative” explanations on the fly is a seriously underrated skill. Although they may come to regret it when their kids grow up to be “creative” teens!

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Being a dad is a lot of work

pixs4u/Shutterstock“Any man can be a father but it takes someone special to be a dad.” –Anne Geddes. Being a dad is so much more than giving your last name or sharing your DNA. Signing your name to the birth certificate is a lifelong promise of love and support. To see how real dads honor this, check out these 31 hilarious stories about dads.

All he really wants for Father’s Day is a nap

DGLimages/Shutterstock“There should be a children’s song: ‘If you’re happy and you know it, keep it to yourself and let your dad sleep.'” –Jim Gaffigan. When your kids are young they want to tell you everything even though it’s nothing you want to know. If you’re a good listener then they’ll still talk to you when they’re older and you want to know everything.

And it’s not because he wears lifts

Halfpoint/Shutterstock“A father is someone you look up to no matter how tall you’ve grown.” –Anonymous.  Dads may set the bar high but they’ll always be there to help lift you the last few inches to help you reach it—even if you don’t recognize it until you’re grown and a parent yourself!

Sugar ’em up and send ’em home

Katya Shut/Shutterstock“The only thing better than having you as a dad is my kids getting to have you as a granddad.” –Anonymous. If grandchildren are the payoff parents get for not killing their kids when they were teenagers, then grandfathers are the payoff kids get for putting up with years of dad jokes. Love dad jokes? Check out our giant library of cringe-worthy dad jokes.

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Start stockpiling band-aids

Zarya Maxim Alexandrovich/Shutterstock“Being a great father is like shaving. No matter how good you shaved today, you have to do it again tomorrow.” –Reed Markham, educator and author of Happy Father’s Day: Great Thoughts for Great Fathers. On the other hand, if you make a mistake, chances are it will heal quickly and you’ll do better next time. Looking for ways to bond with your kids? Try these 17 fun ideas dads and kids love.

When they set the bar high, you jump higher

Filipe Frazao/Shutterstock“Lately all my friends are worried that they are turning into their fathers. I’m worried I’m not.” –Dan Zevin, comic and author of Dad Gets a Minivan. If you were raised by a great father, the greatest compliment you can give him is to follow in his footsteps—well, except maybe with the hair situation.

Nobody does tough love like a tender father

Tropical studio/Shutterstock“My mother protected me from the world and my father threatened me with it.” –Quentin Crisp. Of course, your dad acted all tough, but on those days when the world really kicked you in the teeth, he was the first (and sometimes the only) one there to pick you up.

Being a dad means learning on the job

India Picture/Shutterstock“Before I got married I had six theories about raising children; now, I have six children and no theories.” –John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester. Part of it might be because your kids took all your fancy parenting books and used them to build forts and then refused to put them away. Now you have no idea where they (or your collection of vintage maps) are.

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Oh, I’ll give you something to do!

4 PM production/Shutterstock“Growing up, I remember my dad saying ‘If you’re bored, you’re a boring person’.” –@silver_shots90 on Twitter. Kids know better than to whine to dad that they have nothing to do. It only takes one Saturday of weeding, lawn mowing, car washing, and doing windows to make you seriously reconsider using the word “bored” ever again.

Except minus all the fun parties

bbernard/Shutterstock“Having children is like living in a frat house—nobody sleeps, everything’s broken, and there’s a lot of throwing up.” –Ray Romano. Not to mention finding underwear shoved in weird places, everyone’s broke, and no one can remember who got the milk out yet they’re 100 percent sure it wasn’t them. Dads make the best observations—here are 8 wise sayings from everyday dads.

Here’s a perk they never tell you about

Liderina/Shutterstock“Fatherhood is great because you can ruin someone from scratch.” –Jon Stewart. Of course, the definition of “ruin” is in the eye of the beholder. If you teach your kid to play video games in their underwear while eating flamin’ hot Cheetos have you ruined him… or just ensured you’ll have a built-in best friend for life?

Dads are the masters of not caring what other people think

ANURAK PONGPATIMET/Shutterstock“My dad used to say, ‘You wouldn’t worry so much about what people thought about you if you knew how seldom they did.” –Phil McGraw. This is how they get away with black knee-high socks and open sandals all summer long. Check out these 21 things your father-in-law is secretly thinking.

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If only there was a secret “dad school”

Peter Bernik/Shutterstock“When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant, I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.” –Mark Twain. Nothing will make you appreciate your father’s wisdom like having a kid of your own. Suddenly, you realize there was a method behind what you saw as mere madness.

And he was President of the United States

Africa Studio/Shutterstock“I’ve been to war. I’ve raised twins. If I had a choice, I’d rather go to war.” –George W. Bush. Being a good father is a whole different kind of battle—one where you’re never quite sure who the enemy is and getting shot by friendly fire is just part of life. If you do it right, however, everyone wins.

Wait, why did I come in here again?

Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock“Any other dads feel like their memory is gone? I swear I need to bring a list with me to the grocery store for three things and two of them are bread and eggs.” –Andrew on Twitter. Dad-brain is every bit as real—and debilitating—as Mom-brain. Now, if only we could remember where we put that list… Do you know these 3 dad rules for a happy life?

Every kid is different

Dragon Images/Shutterstock“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will always believe it is stupid.” –Albert Einstein. Along with being one of the best scientific minds in modern history, Einstein was also the proud dad of three children.

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If you could leave your kids just three pieces of wisdom

AboutLife/Shutterstock“My dad always taught me to never be satisfied, to want more, and know that what is done is done.” –Thierry Henry. This advice definitely worked for Thierry, a retired pro-soccer player who currently helps manage the Belgium national soccer team. But even if neither you or your child are a professional athlete, drive is one of the greatest gifts a dad can give.

No matter what, dad is always in your corner

Aleksei Potov/ShutterstockMy father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me. –Jim Valvano, college basketball coach. One of the reasons kids can surpass their parents is because they have a dad who believes they can do everything they ever wanted and is there to help them achieve their goals.

Being a dad changes you

Dasha Muller/Shutterstock“Becoming a father increases your capacity for love and your level of patience. It opens up another door in a person, a door which you may not even have known was there.” –Kyle MacLachlan. But the actor wasn’t done yet! “That’s what I feel with my son. There’s suddenly another level of love that expands,” he added. “My son is my greatest joy, out of everything in my life.”

Dads are the gift that keeps on giving

Evgeny Bakharev/Shutterstock“When a father gives to his son, both laugh; when a son gives to his father, both cry.” –Anonymous. Rare is the man who can open an ashtray made by the tiny hands of his child and not get a little teary—even though he’s never smoked a day in his life and needs an ashtray about as much as he needs a horseshoe. Instead, get your dad one of these 57 Father’s Day gifts he’ll love.

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Well this should end the spanking debate

Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock“Never raise your hand to your kids. It leaves your groin unprotected.” –Red Button. Dads learn quickly to never let their guard down around their kids. Just when you think they’re asleep and it’s safe for you to zone out on your phone, they’re smearing poo on their walls or eating crayons.

See these gray hairs? I never had them before you were born.

Dragan Grkic/Shutterstock“Children are a great comfort in your old age. And they help you reach it faster too.” –Lionel Kauffman, author. They say that before you become a father you never really know what true love is. Of course, you don’t know true terror, worry, exhaustion, or sarcasm either.

Don’t you know how those things are made?

Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock“People ask what it’s like to have four kids, and I just tell them ‘picture that you’re drowning, then someone hands you a baby.'” –Jim Gaffigan. The best part of this quote? Gaffigan now has five children. We’ll send him a lifeboat. In the meantime, watch one of these 10 movies about dads that will tug at your heartstrings.

Dad in the eye of the beholder

Rido/Shutterstock“It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.” –Anne Sexton. This is either the most heart-warming or terrifying thing a child can say about her dad. Our advice? Take lots of pictures so you’ll have proof when they bring you up in therapy later.

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Education comes in many forms

Alinute Silzeviciute/Shutterstock“Your son and your daughter need an excellent father more than an excellent college.” –Nick Vujicic, clergyman. Your kids can learn math, reading, and other skills at school but they’ll learn the real-life lessons—perseverance, forgiveness, charity, and love—from you.

The most important job

4Max/Shutterstock“Being a dad is my most important role. If I fail at this I fail at everything.” –Mark Wahlberg. There may not be performance reviews, raises, expensed lunches, or clear project goals but when it comes to jobs, fatherhood has the best perks. Couch snuggles, butterfly kisses, painted hand prints, and burnt toast on Father’s Day are way better than any award, right?

At least it’s money well spent

wavebreakmedia/Shutterstock“A father carries pictures in his wallet—where his money used to be.” –Anonymous. Spending money on your kids is investing in your memory bank. That may not sound like much now but when you’re older you’ll be grateful there is so much to withdraw.

And the lifetime achievement award goes to Dad

Rido/Shutterstock“I would say my greatest achievement in life right now—my greatest achievement, period, and I’m still trying to achieve it—is to be a wonderful father to my kids.” —Bo Jackson. And this is the guy who was named an all-star in both pro baseball and football. We bet his kids are just as proud of him as he is of them!

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Babies have that effect on people

bbernard/Shutterstock“The only way I can describe fatherhood—it sounds stupid, but—at the end of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, you know how his heart grows like five times? Everything is full; It’s just full all the time.” –Matt Damon. Children have a magical way of showing us that we are capable of so much more love than we ever thought possible and bringing us back from the brink of despair.

Dads set the example their children will judge all other men by

Twinsterphoto/Shutterstock“I decided in my life that I would do nothing that did not reflect positively on my father’s life.” –Sidney Poitier. Who, in a moment of weakness, hasn’t stopped to think, “What would my dad say if he could see me now?”—and then changed course?

You can’t help falling for those big eyes

Katsiaryna Pakhomava/Shutterstock“Having a kid is like falling in love for the first time when you’re 12, but every day.” –Mike Myers. Every dad thinks their child is the smartest, most beautiful, funniest person on the planet—and that’s exactly how it should be.

It’s the best and the worst part of being a dad

Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock“It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.” –Friedrich Schiller. Decades of shared history bond fathers and kids in a way nothing else can. When you look back on the memories of your childhood, your dad is always there in a supporting role.

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But if they know that, they know everything

wavebreakmedia/Shutterstock“I wasn’t anything special as a father. But I loved them and they knew it.” —Sammy Davis, Jr. At the end of the day, the best gift you can give your kids isn’t a new toy, or a trip, or a video game—it’s the gift of your time. Show your kids you love them, don’t just say it. Have a great dad in your life? Tell him with one of the 13 best compliments you can give a parent.

It’s all about priorities

Jacob Lund/Shutterstock“My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, ‘You’re tearing up the grass’; ‘We’re not raising grass,’ Dad would reply. ‘We’re raising boys.'” –Harmon Killebrew. It’s easy to lose sight of the big picture when you’re caught up in the day to day chaos of raising kids. Take a minute to remember who, and why, you’re doing all this in the first place.

Said like a true politician

Alena Ozerova/Shutterstock“I have found the best way to give advice to your children is to find out what they want and then advise them to do it.” –Harry S. Truman. A good father is a great listener. Telling your child what to do is easy, watching them make mistakes and learn how to do it themselves can be one of the hardest things a dad ever has to do.

Not all fathers are biological

digitalskillet/Shutterstock“Whoever does not have a good father should procure one.” –Friedrich Nietzsche. Just because a man gave you half your DNA doesn’t mean he deserves the title of “dad.” If biology has failed you, make a beautiful family out of those who love you like family.

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Not to mention all the times she throws up on you

Rehan Qureshi/Shutterstock“I rescind my earlier statement of ‘I could never fall in love with a girl who poops her pants.’ I hadn’t met my daughter yet.” –Dax Shepard, actor. Parenthood will push you to the very limits of what you can handle, especially when it comes to gross bodily functions.

And baby teeth are razor sharp

Hrecheniuk Oleksii/Shutterstock“There are times when parenthood seems nothing more than feeding the hand that bites you.” –Peter De Vries. Parenting can be a truly thankless job—where else can you do everything exactly as the customer ordered it only to have them throw it at you and break down screaming for no reason at all? But that doesn’t mean they’re not grateful. You’ll just have to wait until they’re 30 for them to tell you.

Babies also like to spike their hair up

goodluz/Shutterstock“The kid who throws his spaghetti from the high chair onto his father’s face, he’s pushing back. He’s sticking it to the man as he sees it. I like that. So that is punk.” –Henry Rollins, punk musician. Who doesn’t love a kid who’s got a little bit of an attitude—just like their old man? If you’re feeling like more of a comedian than a punk, try out one of these 31 groan-worthy dad jokes that will still make you LOL.

It hurts because you love them so much

Syda Productions/Shutterstock“This is the price you pay for having a great father. You get the wonder, the joy, the tender moments—and you get the tears at the end, too.” –Harlan Coben, author of Don’t Let Go. Losing a beloved father can feel like losing your whole world, the foundation just falls right out from underneath you, but before you can fall too far, you remember all the ways he would catch you—and you realize he still is.

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Bad dancing is what dads do

IndigoLT/Shutterstock“I’m probably the most uncool guy that [my daughters] know—as far as they are concerned anyway—’cause I’m Dad. I mean dads just aren’t cool—especially when I dance! They don’t want me to dance.” –Tim McGraw. Embarrassing your kids as preteens is just payback for all the times they humiliated you at the grocery store (and the library and the restaurant and…).

Well, that explains all the bow ties!

Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock“My father was a very good Boy Scout. He was very skilled with knots, and he showed me how to tie a bow tie.” –Bill Nye, the Science Guy. Nothing says bonding like sharing a hobby with your dad. Whether your dad was into scouting or something else like soccer, painting, hiking, or Legos, chances are he passed on some awesome skills to you.

Only together do we reach our full potential

Jacob Lund/Shutterstock“I feel more and more like ‘myself’ these days. Before becoming a father, I can remember a low-level feeling of somehow not quite being myself.” –B.D. Wong, actor. We often feel like we were born to help shape our children but a smart parent quickly realizes that, just as much, they were born to help shape us. Next, read these hilarious mom quotes that will have you cry-laughing.

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[h0lybasil-blog]

**Trigger warning**  – below is the story of my journey with self-harm and recovery.

I started hurting myself when I was 13 years old. I had made an Internet friend on AIM (because I’m “old” now) and she had told me that when she was upset, she would cut herself. At first, I freaked out. I looked up cutting, and started reading about why and how people cut, burn, hit, and otherwise hurt themselves. I started telling her what I was reading, which was that people who self-harmed weren’t crazy, and they weren’t suicidal - they were just trying to deal with their feelings, and doing so in an unhealthy way.

She said she knew that, so I asked her more about her experiences. She told me that she would freeze a safety pin, or a razor blade to sterilize it, and she would scratch or cut herself when she was frustrated, sad, angry, or felt out of control.

At that moment, I happened to be in a period of my life where I felt very out of control. My parents had just gotten separated. This meant that my mom was spending a lot of time depressed in her room, dealing with lawyers. This also meant that my brother, who was eight at the time, was very isolated and playing video games by himself in his room. He couldn’t really comprehend what was going on, but he hated leaving mom’s house to go see dad every Wednesday, and every other weekend. My dad had never really taken care of us growing up, so it fell on me to make sure that my brother and I ate dinner, did our homework, had our clothes for school the next day, and made sure we left on time. It was really stressful. I felt like I had no control of all the pressure that had been put on me. I felt really alone, and like no one would understand what I was going through.

So I tried it.

I can’t remember with clarity what the first instrument I used to cut myself, or how long it went on before my mom found out, and ransacked my room for sharp objects, demanding how I could do such a thing. I wore long sleeves for a while, and cut holes in all my shirts so I could slip my thumbs in them, making sure no one would see my arms.

I was sad, and the other kids at school backed away from me. I dug into the isolation. I didn’t have any friends, or anyone to understand what I was going through. The truth is, I would continue to harm myself for many years, in a few different ways, and I had already been harming myself for over a year before I started cutting. I didn’t even realize this until a year or so ago.

Since I was 11 years old, I have been picking my face. It was then that I realized I could run the nail of my pinkie finger up the skin on my nose, and collect little white beads from my clogged pores. Before long, I was spending close to an hour in the mirror just about every day. I would squeeze pimples, and pores that had the slightest appearance of being clogged until my face was blotchy, swollen, and often bloody. I couldn’t stop myself, and sometimes still can’t. It used to be something that eased my anxiety, but like cutting, the anxiety was only eased as long as the process of the harm lasted. Immediately afterwards, I am faced with a “What have I done?” moment, and often will be more upset afterwards for knowing that I have scarred myself than I was before I picked.

A few years after I first began self-harming, I developed a new tactic. I started to starve myself out of existence. I decided to become a vegetarian at camp the summer I turned 15, and then continued to restrict my diet when I came home. I felt power in only consuming what and how much food I decided, though my mental health showed my mistake. I began to lose memory, lose track of tasks, and walk around in a complete fog. Finally, my mom took me to see a therapist, and I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, and put into an outpatient treatment program. I met with a group of teens, and we did group, individual, art, and cognitive behavioral therapy four times a week. I think I was in the group for four or five months before I “decided” that I was ready to graduate. What was weird was I felt like I hadn’t been that committed to being anorexic, but I was still committed to terrorizing myself.

In distracting myself from the actual pain I had in my life, I transformed it into self-inflicted woe. I dated people who didn’t care about me, so I could cry when they didn’t return my calls. I drank, so I could get myself into trouble, and have something to focus on rest of the week. I smoked weed and cigarettes to be dangerous, and so I could escape. I later started binging and purging to further distract myself from the hurt.

It took me a long time to get to where I am today, which is someone who has good relationships, is honest about their feelings, loves their body, and is healthy. I still slip up from time to time and will pick my face, or be critical about my appearance, but it’s becoming a less and less often occurrence. It’s a process.

Allowing myself to actually start feeling my feelings was insanely difficult. I hadn’t realized how much dirt and trash I had piled on top of the hole I had dug for the real traumas that I wasn’t capable of facing when they occurred. I had developed these other mechanisms for feeling anything but the earth-shaking pain of what was actually happening.

What was actually happening? My doctor touched me inappropriately when I was eight or nine. I didn’t tell anyone at the time of the incident, and I blocked this for many years, even though I felt the fear, each time I had to go for a checkup, and later in life as someone trying to come into their sexuality. As a 12 year old, I felt stressed with no one to turn to, and then I continued to add traumas onto the list because I wasn’t able to deal with those things as such a young person. I still deal with being afraid sometimes, and I notice myself trying to slip into the well-worn neural patterns of my old coping mechanisms.

It takes having someone you can trust and cry on to be able to work through these difficult moments from your past – I do not recommend trying to do it yourself. Often, working through a trauma feels like walking through a dark field with your hands tied behind your back, and if you don’t have someone with a flash light walking next to you, the odds of making it to a safe, warm place are not very high. The good news is, in my experience, the same field doesn’t usually need to be walked through more than a few times. Sometimes once is enough. The key is to letting yourself really break down, really feel and express what is there, but previously had to ignore in order to survive.

Educator Emily Nagoski says that, “The stress response is actually a stress response cycle. You have to complete the cycle or else all those stress chemicals just sit around turning sour in your body.” It’s true. You are trapped, living in the stress of your traumatic moment until you recognize it, let it flow through you and release it, as scary as that may sound. However, what you are doing to yourself in order to avoid it is probably much scarier.  

The beautiful thing about your brain, which is where the chemical reactions of emotions occur, is that by practicing new coping mechanisms for stress, like physically discharging it from your system, you can eventually atrophy the pathways that used to go from stress to self-harm and back again, in a seemingly never-ending loop. You can replace those behaviors by creating a new pattern, one where you listen to your body, accept your feelings, and deal with them in a healthy way. Nagoski talks about how stress in the modern world is totally different from, but triggers the same hormone response, as being chased by a lion (or whatever your ancestral predator may have been).

So, in order to get your body to let go of the feeling that you are about to be eaten by a lion, you have to trick yourself into either defeating, or running away from that lion (ever heard of fight or flight response?). So, when you feel stressed, if you can do some cardio exercise, your body will feel like you have outrun the predator. As a bonus, you will also be flushed with endorphins – the feel-good hormones your body releases when you expend a lot of energy.  Or, if you can’t do that, you can try my old favorite and let out a primal scream. I don’t know why this works, but it does. If you are afraid to be loud, feel free to turn on some music and scream into a pillow. If you know someone who also might need a good scream, invite them to come and do my actual favorite, which is to place a pillow between the two of you, and scream into each other’s faces through the pillow. I don’t know why screaming works so well, but it does. Crying is also great, and is something I wasn’t able to do for a long time when I was engaging in self-harm.

So, what I guess I want to gain from sharing my experiences that span more than a decade of struggling with self-destructive behaviors, and often physical self-harm, is to help de-stigmatize the subject. I want people to feel okay talking about their experiences, and reaching out for help.

Everyone goes through hard times, and not very many people actually deal in a way that makes them stronger when a difficult feeling comes up. For instance, how many adults do you know who drink or watch TV when they are stressed? If you want to become a person who works through their emotions, it is not impossible. If you have someone in your life who you trust to walk you through the dark field, and to hold the flashlight without getting sucked into how scary the experience must be for you, to be vulnerable and afraid, then you should ask them to listen to you. Explain that you will probably get very emotional, and just need them to support you. If you do not feel like you have anyone in your life that can do that for you, I urge you to try and find a therapist you can talk to. Someone who is paid to listen is a great alternative. Also, now that you are the kind of person who knows what it is like to go through some extreme emotions, you are capable of doing that for someone else! It is easier to find a partner in processing trauma once you know the ropes.

So, that’s where I’ll leave this. Try to find someone to talk to. Scream or run away from the beast, but don’t let the fear and anxiety rot inside you. You have the power to be calm and happy.

If you don’t have anyone in your life you feel like you can turn to for help, you should email me. I’m not a professional, but I’ll listen.

#self harm #trigger #warning #de stigmatize #reach out

[theblpblog]

People are often asking me how I learn about these crazy adventures, experiences, or places to travel that are on my Bucket List.  Well, the internet of course! I not only scour the internet but I subscribe to numerous travel and adventure blogs out there to learn about the world.  That is how I found out about The Travel Whispers Blogger Challenge!

The Travel Whispers Blogger Challenge is the brain child of  travel blogger, Stephanie Fox.  Aimed at rounding up 2016 and looking towards 2017, she created 10 out of the ordinary travel questions that would not only share your personal insights on traveling but also introduce other travel bloggers to your readers.  At the bottom of this post, I will list several travel bloggers who are participating as well.  So after reading, please check them out too.  You might find some exciting new bloggers to follow and some great travel ideas for the future!  Also, you can find them across Twitter and Instagram by using the hashtag #TravelWhispers.

When The Travel Whispers Blogger Challenge was passed on to me by Sara & Nacho of I Do What I Want To, I was a  bit nervous to say the least since The Bucket List Project is still a newbie in the blogging world.  However, I found the questions a great way to learn & share not only about myself but my hopes for The Bucket List Project.

[bctt tweet=”Reading The Bucket List Project’s answers to the Travel Whispers Blogger Challenge #TravelWhispers” username=”hcbeggar”]

So with bated breath, here are The Bucket List Project’s answers to The Travel Whispers Blogger Challenge:

1. If you had to move to a country that you’ve NEVER been to, and live there for ten years, where would you go?

I think I would want to go to Cuba since it is where my mother and family are from originally.  To live in such an exotic environment that offers an unbelievable culture all while seeing where my family grew up, would be amazing.  Plus, being ideally located in the Gulf of Mexico, it would allow me the ability to travel home to see my family in the US, while also, being able to explore other parts of Central and South America.

2. If you had to live in a hotel for the rest of your life, which hotel would you choose and why?

Not gonna lie, I would take a hostel, airbnb, a guest house, or even a tent over most hotels any day. To me, most hotels are just places to store my stuff while I am out and about exploring. However, if I had to be sentenced to a hotel I think I would either want to live in the Hotel Monteleone in New Orleans or the Hotel Del Coronado in San Diego.

Hotel Del Coronado in San Diego, California

3. If you could only eat the cuisine of one nationality forever more, which would you choose?

This question is tough.  If I could only eat the cuisine of one nationality forever, I would have to either say food from Spain or Thailand (minus the Scorpion on a Stick…been there done that).

When it comes to Spain, I think they offer some of the greatest variety as Barcelona has unbelievable seafood with a Mediterranean flair while up North the pork is phenomenal.  With Thailand, I think it offers a great infusion of Asian styles while also finding some modern flavors from around the world in their more metropolitan cities like Bangkok.

4. Who has given you ‘holiday envy’ this year, and how?

Oddly enough there is a couple who I met in Chiang Mai, Thailand during a holiday festival in 2015, called Yi Peng/Loy Krathong. Hands down Chelsea and Mark give me ‘holiday envy’ for all the holidays and festivals they attend.  Though they currently living in Dubai, they travel all over the place.  In 2016, amid all their awesome travels, I most envied their adventure at Oktoberfest in Munich, which now is on my 2017 Bucket List!

5. If you had to look at the same sunrise or the same sunset every day, where in the world would you never get bored of seeing? Please don’t say sitting outside Cafe Mambo in Ibiza.

I don’t think anything has ever beaten the sunset I saw in Oporto, Portugal.  For the rest of my life, I could easily sit amid the tourists, with a cigar and a glass of port wine, just watching the sun set along the Douro River .

The Sunset along the Douro River in Oporto, Portugal (NO FILTER)

6. If you were taking a ‘staycation’ in your hometown, where would it be and what would you recommend others do?

I am from New Orleans, Louisiana where there is a ton to see, experience, and most importantly EAT! First, if possible, stay at the Hotel Monteleone.  Its one of the older hotels in the French Quarter blocks away from all the fun and action.  However, the most important thing to do is to go down to the famous Carousel Bar and ride the Carousel while having a Sazerac, a Vieux Carre, or any cocktail bartender Marvin Allen recommends.

During the day, you need to explore the art galleries on Royal Street, see St. Louis Cathedral, wander around Jackson square, find treasures in the French Market, and stroll the Moon Walk along the mighty Mississippi River.

At night, you need to stroll Bourbon Street (even us locals do it from time to time), walk through Pat O’Briens courtyard, listen to old school jazz at Preservation Hall, or head over to Frenchman Street to hear some modern Jazz and New Orleans Funk Music. Drink Sazeracs, Pimm’s Cups, Daquiris, Hurricanes, any beer from Abita Brewery or explore any of the pre-prohibition cocktails served throughout the city.

To eat, it really doesn’t matter cause it’s all great! Head over to Café du Monde for beignets if you want a light breakfast.  Though you may want Stanley’s for a hearty breakfast by the cathedral.  For lunch grab yourself a poboy or even better, head over to Central Grocery for a muffuletta sandwich, a bottle of Barqs Rootbeer, and a bag of Zaps Crawtators and head up to the river to eat and watch the river boats!  As for dinner Antoine’s is by far the #1 fine dining restaurant in all of New Orleans in my opinion.

7. Describe your perfect travel day of the year?

My summer was packed with unbelievable days on the Camino and in Portugal afterwards.  But if I had to choose a perfect day, it would be with Darcee in Nassau, Bahamas this past March. We had taken a boat out to the coral reefs for snorkeling and then to scratch off Bucket List #202) Ride in a S.U.B. (Scenic Underwater Bubble).  It was amazing.

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Eric in a S.U.B. (Scenic Underwater Bubble)

Darcee in a S.U.B. (Scenic Underwater Bubble)

Nassau, Bahamas

8. What have you ticked off your bucket list in 2016?

2016 was a very exciting year for The Bucket List Project as we added many items to the 2016 Completed Items list!  However, I would say the highlight was my pilgrimage along the entire Camino de Santiago.  Not only was it amazing to explore all of Northern Spain, but along my “Walk,” I learned a lot about myself and met some amazing friends. You can read Excerpts from My Personal Diary Along the Camino here.

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9. What is top of your travel bucket list for 2017?

I tend to be ambitious and perhaps a bit over zealous when it comes to planning out my Bucket List travel plans every year. 2017 is no different.  When I wrote my 2017 Bucket List Hopes and Goals I realized that I had listed 7 countries outside the US & at least 3 different states from Louisiana.  But I guess that is because I am one of those Shoot for Stars kind of guys. With that said I would have to say which of the 10 destinations is top on my list this year it would be a tie between Alberta, Canada and Morocco.

Alberta escaped me last year, but this year it’s a must for me, if not for Banff National Park alone. We have all seen the remarkable photos of Lake Louise in Banff and that marvelous mountain skyline. Well, I want to see that in person.  Plus Canada is celebrating its 150th anniversary of their National Parks. So all entry is free for the entire year of 2017! You can get your Free Pass HERE!

As for Morocco, exploring the Blue City of Chefchaouen, checking out the markets of Casablanca, and taking a camel safari into the desert are all hot on my list!

10. Share your favorite Instagram photo of 2016?

So The Bucket List Project only started on Instagram in September of 2016.  But slowly I have been posting up some of my favorite Bucket List Project pictures from the past.  In November 2015, I was fortunate enough to go to Thailand’s Lantern Festivals of Yi Peng & Loy Krathong.  It was probably one of the best experiences of my life.  While we were all lighting and setting sail to our balloons, I was able to catch this mother and daughter sending off their hopes and dreams into the sky!

Instagram: @TheBucketListProjectBlog

      Now since this is a Whispers challenge, I would first like to thank by Sara & Nacho of IDoWhatIWantTo who inspired me to participate.  You can read their responses by CLICKING HERE!

You can find more travel whispers at the links below:

Stephanie Fox

Josie Wanders

Young and Undecided

My Own True North

If you are a travel blogger and want to take part in the fun, then join the facebook group here.

We were invited to participate in Travel Whispers Blogger Challenge. See our answers today! #TravelWhispers People are often asking me how I learn about these crazy adventures, experiences, or places to travel that are on my Bucket List. 

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