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dabisqueen · 5 months

Text

Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader

⇢ word count: roughly 7K

⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare

⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr

"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."

They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.

You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin.

Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.

They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed.

You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.

You sigh.

Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.

You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.

After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"

"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"

"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.

He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.

Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.

You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.

What the hell just happened?

***

The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.

As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls.

You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look.

You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows.

There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.

You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards.

Alright, here goes nothing.

***

The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.

The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.

Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.

"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.

A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.

"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.

The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours.

Shit.

He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants.

Speaking of bulge.

It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically.

Stop it!

You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.

But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams.

Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.

As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression.

“Not her again.” You hear him groan.

The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”

"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."

The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”

Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"

“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.

“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.

“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.

You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set.

“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”

“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.

You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated.

“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.

"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”

Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”

“Dabi, she's the most requested—”

“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”

You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second.

“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”

He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”

“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”

Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.

"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you.

You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.

"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.

"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes.

The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"

"Yep. Her." His grin widens.

"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"

"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"

"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"

Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.

Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.

The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"

Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually.

Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."

"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.

"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"

"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.

"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."

He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."

He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"

It is your voice.

"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."

"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.

Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"

"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."

"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."

"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."

"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.

"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"

Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”

"That’s none of your business."

"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."

“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."

“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"

"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.

“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.

"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."

"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.

Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.”

“You what?" His words leave you stunned.

Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”

His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach.

“In front of all these people?!"

“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.

You swallow hard.

"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting.

You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college.

This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.

"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.

“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”

Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.

"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take."

"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”

“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”

“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.

“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.

“Not really.” He winks.

"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”

“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.

"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"

“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.

"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.

“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both.

Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.

“Sound?”

“Set.”

“Camera?”

“Set.”

“Roll sound.”

“Sound rolling.”

“Roll camera.”

“Camera Speed.”

“Marker.”

A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever."

Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence.

You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.

“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.

“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally.

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.

It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—

—but in anticipation.

“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.

You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.

You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.

You groan—how could a man taste so good?

It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back.

As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"

The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.

The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.

Holy shit.

He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.

The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.

The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”

You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear.

“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”

Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.

“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”

He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger.

It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.

“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”

While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.

"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."

A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place.

"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"

You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.

“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.”

His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.

“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes.

The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands.

"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."

You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—

—but this just feels so much more intense.

“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass,

raising your hips to have more access to you.

“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you.

You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you.

“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you.

“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.

A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung.

He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.

As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released.

“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.

With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.

You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes.

Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.

Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—

—no.

He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.

It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that.

Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth.

“Dabi, please—” you choke out.

Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”

You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones.

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.

You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced.

You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed.

“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction.

“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.

“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”

Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.

"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit.

“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.

“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”

“I'm not sure,” you whisper.

“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated.

He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.

“Get ready,” he whispers.

A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.

“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.”

The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you.

"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.

There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you.

“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face.

“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...

"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that.

Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently.

“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”

Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel.

He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.

“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”

“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.

He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss.

It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm.

His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.

Dabi snaps.

With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.

Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears.

But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice.

"I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.

Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up.

“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”

You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still.

“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”

"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises.

And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once.

You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock.

“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”

You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.

“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.

No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below.

Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.

You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”

‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.

You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions.

“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.

Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.

You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado.

“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.

Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.

A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.

Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage.

Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it.

“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’

You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”

“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”

He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.

“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.

“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.

“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.

“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.

When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace.

“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”

“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”

“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”

#dabi smut #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi #dabi todoroki #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi fanfic #dabi x y/n #mha au #mha smut #bnha smut #dabi x reader smut #dabi x you smut

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lanseax · 1 year

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starting to think my friend is a lil toxic…

#anyway if you remember i was talking about one friend who goes to disney an insane amount and is also complaining about money issues #so she is just being so negative and bitchy lately and i want to be supportive but everday #and i mean EVERY DAY because we work togethet #i hear about how life sucks and people suck and how she needs money and this that and like #if you are trying to get me to give you money ask me straight up and i’ll loan you money #i am fortunate enough to not pay rent because im still under my parents roof #my car is also a hand me down that i paid off by paying them money from a deceased relative’s will #so i havent had much to worry about money wise #so i will HAPPILY loan my friends money #so if you need that ASK ME #but she’s not so idk if she’s just literally doing this to just be a downer or what but uugggghh #anyway today she was actually in a good mood and unfortunately one of our coworkers snapped at her #and instead of letting it go she came to me and just started complaining and bitching again and im like AAAAA #i get when people are irritated but it is so easy to just take a deep breath and let it go #he was mad and it wasnt at her and he apologized so LET IT GOOOOOO #nox speaks

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fratboykate · 1 year

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I'm totally in support of the writers in theory but I'm trying to understand more of what you're fighting for because I've seen some people on twitter claim writers make more money a week than most of us make in a month so I'm trying to understand what the issue is. Also if that info is accurate. This is a genuine question. Not trying to have a "gotcha moment". I really want to hear from a writer.

people have always had wild misconceptions about how much a writer earns because of their lack of understanding of how the industry actually works. there's so many posts about how "you guys make 5k a week. what more do you want?!" yeah...let's do some math on that.

5k a week for 14 weeks (and that's a long room. a lot of rooms these days are 8-10 weeks. those are the dreaded mini-rooms we're trying to kill) is $70,000. for roughly three months of work. you'd think we're cooking with gas...BUT HOLD UP. that's gross! let's see everything that has to come out of that check:

10% to our agent

10% to our manager

5% to our entertainment attorney

5% to our business manager (not everyone has one but a lot of us do. i do, so that's literally 30% immediately off the top of every check)

most of these breakdowns ive seen downplay taxes severely. someone made one that says writers pay 5% in taxes and i would like to ask them "in what universe?". that doesn't even cover state taxes. the way taxes work in the industry is really complicated, but the short of it is most of us have companies for tax reasons so we aren't taxed like people on w2s/1099. if we did we'd be even more fucked. basically every production hires a writer's company instead of the writer as an individual. so they engage our companies for our services and then at the end of the year we (the company) pay taxes as corporations or llcs (depending on what the writer chose to go with). my company is registered as a "corporation" so let's go with those rates. california's corporate rate is 9% and the federal corporate tax rate is 21%. there's other expenses with running a business like fees and other shit so my business managers/accountants/bookkeepers have recommended i save between 35-40% of everything i make for when tax season comes.

you see where the math is at already??? 25-30% in commissions and then 35-40% in taxes. on the lower end you're at THE VERY LEAST looking at 60% of that check gone. 70% worst case scenario. suddenly those $70,000 people claim we make are actually down to $28,000 as the take home pay. and that's if you're only losing 60%. it goes down to $21,000 if it's 70%.

lets pretend you worked a long 14 week room (that's the longest room ive ever worked btw) and let's also be generous and say you only have 60% in expenses so the take home is $28,000. average rent in los angeles is around $2,800-$3,000. if you're paying $2,800 in rent that means you need AT LEAST $4,000 a month to have a semi decent life since you need to also cover groceries, gas, medical expenses, toiletries, phone, internet, utilities, rental and car insurances, car payments, student loan payments, etc etc etc. and again, this is los angeles. everything is more expensive so you're living BARE BONES on 4k. and these are numbers as a single person. im not even taking having children into account. so those $28,000 you take home might cover your life for 6-7 months. 3 of which you're in the room working. the reality is that once that room ends, you might not work in a room again for 6-9-12 months (i have friends whose last jobs were over 18 months ago) and you now only have about 3 months left of savings to hold you over. we have to make that money stretch while we do all the endless free development we do for studios and until we get our next paying job. so...3 months left of enough money to cover your expenses -> possible 9 months of not having a job. this is how writers end up on food stamps or applying to work at target.

this is why we're fighting for better rates and better residuals. residuals were a thing writers used to rely on to get them through the unemployment periods. residual checks have gone down from 20k to $0.03 cents. im not joking.

they've decimated our regular pay and then destroyed residuals. we have nothing left. so don't believe it when they tell you writers are being greedy. writers are simply fighting to be able to make a middle class living. we're not asking them to become poor for our sake. we're asking for raises that amount to 2% of their profit. TWO PERCENT. this is a fight for writing even being a career in five years instead of something you do on the side while you work retail to pay your bills. if you think shows are bad now imagine when your writer has to do it as a hobby because they need a real job to pay their bills and support a family. (which none of us can currently afford to have btw)

support writers. stop being bootlickers for billion dollar corporations. stop caring about fictional people more than you care about the real people that write them. if we don't win this fight it truly is game over. the industry as you know it is gone.

#wga strike #writer's strike #hollywood #anonymous #answers #myposts

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freeleyenrashespeakstruth · 1 year

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By Kitty Werthmann

“I am a witness to history.

“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history.

If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching.

“We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls.

She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers.

“Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.”

No so.

Hitler is welcomed to Austria

“In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates.

Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs.

“My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’

“We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living.

“Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back.

“Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.

“We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed.

“After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.

“Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been re- quired to give up for marriage.

“Then we lost religious education for kids

“Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education.

“Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.”

And then things got worse.

“The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free.

“We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had.

“My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination.

“I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing.

“Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler.

“It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.

“In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death.

“Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men.

“Soon after this, the draft was implemented.

“It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys.

“They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines.

“When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat.

“Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.

“When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers.

“You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government.

“The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.

“Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna..

“After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything.

“When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full.

“If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries.

“As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families.

“All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.

“We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables.

“Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands.

“Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.

“We had consumer protection, too

“We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.

“In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated.

“So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work.

“I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van.

“I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months.

“They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness.

“As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia.

“Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.

“No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.

“Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.”

“This is my eyewitness account.

“It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity.

“America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away.

“After America, there is no place to go.”

Kitty Werthmann

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togglesbloggle · 10 months

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Why do you think tumblr will die in only a few years?

Answer with jargon: a strong correlation between recent economic shifts and chaotic choices by major tech companies is most easily explained if the 'traditional' social media platforms of 2005-2020 are mostly a zero-interest rate phenomenon.

Longer answer, with less jargon: Even though Musk's takeover is making all the headlines recently, the last year has in fact seen major shakeups at many social media platforms, so Twitter is actually part of a trend. Almost inevitably, these are cases of social media companies trying to find a way to squeeze more money out of their userbase (Reddit), cut costs dramatically (Twitter), or both. This marks a sudden departure from a much more relaxed attitude towards revenue in the Pictures Of Cats industry, where the focus was historically more on expanding the userbase to a global scale and then counting on world domination to sort of <????> and then the company would become profitable eventually.

We joke, correctly, that Tumblr has never been profitable. But the entire structure of ad-supported content curation between human users is deeply suspect as a business model; IIRC Twitter was never profitable either, and Facebook has been juicing its numbers in very shenanigany ways. Discord was actually making money on net last I checked, at least a bit, so they're not all completely in the hole. But even if you take the accounting figures at face value, none of these companies has anything like the amount of money that their cultural prominence would suggest. Instead, they're heavily fueled by investment dollars, money given by super-rich people and institutions in the expectation that fueling the growth of the company now will pay off with interest later.

So what changed?

I'm not an expert here, but I'll do my best to muddle through. The American Federal Reserve has one mandate that dominates all others (sometimes called the 'dual mandate'), and one primary tool that it uses to enforce that mandate. The goal is to maintain low (but nonzero) rates of inflation and unemployment, which in their models are deeply interlinked phenomena. The tool is 'rate hikes', or more specifically, tweaking the mandatory rate of interest that banks charge one another when making loans.

As a particular consequence of this, hiking the rate also means that bonds start paying out much better. When the rate hike goes through, that affects people who let the government borrow their personal cash- that is, people who buy bonds- as well as institutions like banks that lend to one another. A rate hike means that you, personally, can make a little extra money by letting the government borrow it for a while. The federal government of the US is a rock-solid low-risk choice for this kind of moneymaking scheme, so the federal interest rate sort of defines the 'number to beat'; to attract investors, a company has to give those investors money at a better percentage than whatever the feds are offering. Particularly since a company is a lot more likely to go out of business than the state!

To wrap this back around to the Pictures Of Cats industry: the higher the rate hike, the better your company needs to be doing (or the less risky it needs to be as an option) to attract big investment dollars. Very high rates make it very hard to convince people to invest in business activity rather than the government itself, and very low rates put moonshots and big dreams on the table, investment-wise, in a way that wouldn't otherwise be possible. Social media companies were one of these big dreams.

In the great financial crisis of 2008, the Fed took the dramatic step of reducing their rate to zero, trying to juice the economy back to life. And ever since then, they've kept it there. This has produced an unprecedented amount of funding for very crazy stuff; it's part of what has allowed so many weird new tech companies (Uber, streaming services, etc.) to get so much money, so quickly, and use that to grow to massive size without a clear model of how they're ever going to make money. This state of affairs kept going for quite a while, with no clear stopping point; that zero-interest environment has been one of the shadowy forces in the background that shaped fundamental contours and limits in how our Very Online World has grown and developed. Until COVID.

Or rather, the bounce back from COVID: we suddenly saw a massive spike in inflation and an incredibly strong labor market, as employees quit in record numbers, negotiated higher salaries, and found better work, and at the same time supply chain issues and other economy stuff caused prices to climb dramatically. Recall the Fed's 'dual mandate', to control the employment rate and inflation. This was, basically, kicking them right in the jooblies. They responded in kind, finally finally raising their rates for the first time in 15 years. For some of the people reading this, it'll be the first significant shift in their entire adult lives.

The goal, as I understand it, is to fight inflation by reducing the amount of outside investment into private companies, forcing them to hire fewer people and pay smaller salaries, ultimately drawing money out of the working economy and driving prices back down by lowering demand for everything. You get paid less, so you eat out less, and buy at cheaper restaurants when you do, so restaurants have to compete harder by lowering their prices; seems pretty dodgy to me as a theory, but it's the theory. And the first part will almost certainly work- companies are going to see less investment.

For social media companies that are still paying most of their salaries with investor dollars instead of revenues, this is especially catastrophic. Without outside investment, they're just a massive pile of expenses waiting to happen, huge yearly costs in developer salaries and server fees. This is why, all of a sudden, every social media company is suddenly making bonkers decisions. They're noticing that nobody wants to give them any more money! So they're trying to figure out how to live a lot more cheaply, to actually somehow for reals turn their giant userbases in to some kind of actual revenue stream, or both.

Tumblr is kind of the ur-example of this kind of thing, supporting a very large userbase with no coherent plan whatsoever to start paying its staff with our dollars instead of investors' dollars. When interest rates were low and Scrooge McDuck had nowhere else to hide his pile of gold coins, a crazy kid with a dream was the best alternative available to him. But now, unless something changes, he's going to notice he can just buy bonds instead, and that crazy kid can go take a hike.

That's why I think Tumblr is living on borrowed time, though I don't know how much. Like all cartoons, the economy doesn't really fall off a cliff until somebody looks down and notices they've been standing on thin air this whole time. But they always fall eventually; that's the gag.

#I am not an economics #so if somebody wants to grade my accuracy here #that would be welcome #this is the situation as I understand it but my models are hazy

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vividstardustrevolution · 7 months

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Disabled people (both people with physical disabilities and people with psychological disabilities) should be able to get housing, food, medical needs, etc met without having to work or stay in school. ...Okay, really, everyone deserves access to free or affordable housing, food, and medical care, but disabled people ESPECIALLY deserve it because if I, a law student with "low support needs" autism, depression, GAD, OCD, and ADHD, cannot afford to take a break from school and take a semester off because I'd have to start repaying my loans because I had to drop down to three credits last fall and because I would have to get a job, so it wouldn't really be a break (which, I have had one job in my life, and I'm not fully convinced it wasn't a fluke, and also, trying to maintain a job when you have disabilities is difficult), I can only imagine that disabled people with higher support needs are even more fucked than me when it comes to being able to get housing and food and medical care without much, if any, funding.

Yes, Medicaid, Medicare, Food Stamps, and housing programs exist in the US, but, uh, I hate to break it to y'all, but that doesn't fully fix the problem, at all. There are a lot of old apartment complexes that are straight up inaccessible if you use a wheelchair. I'm living in one now. Applying for Medicaid and other programs can be a pain in the ass, especially when you're disabled.

"Just live with your parents!" My parents were emotionally abusive and emotionally neglectful, transphobic, and they literally harassed me so much during my 1L year that I still have nightmares.

"Live with a roommate!" I tried to. It went fucking terribly.

"Are you really disabled if you're able to be in law school?" YES. YES I AM.

Actually, on that note, law schools and the law profession need to become more accommodating for disabled people ASAP. Buck v. Bell needs to be overturned. Courts should be wheelchair accessible. Having to get past seven plus different forms of ableism just to graduate and pass the bar is ridiculous. Seriously, can we get some resources for disabled people in law school and the law profession, please?

Disabled rights matter, and we have every right to be able to live in peace and get our needs met, regardless of our support needs, disabilities, or anything else.

#disability #disability rights #actually autistic #actually adhd #actually disabled #ocd #actually ocd #lawblr #disabled law student #US centric but it has to be said #In all seriousness though please I need a semester off #actually traumatized #cw abuse mention #accessibility #real lawblr

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abra-ka-dammit · 5 months

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Alright: here's my official cry for help. You can see the latest updates in my pinned, but here's a shorter post for sharing purposes specifically

If you haven't been following, early on Wednesday morning I awoke to my youngest cat Bojji gagging and choking down a plastic ribbon that had already begun its journey into his intestines. The ER vets managed to safely surgically extract it from his small intestines, where it had already began bunching things up in the exact way these things risk doing. all seemed like it would be well, and that he might even be released the next afternoon.

the next morning, however, testing of a fluid that formed around his lungs overnight proved it to be laden with bacteria-containing cells that presumably entered the chest cavity by an esophageal laceration from the struggle with the ribbon. he had quickly worsened in condition and began to go into septic shock, and in a call that has now made this situation well beyond my finances, I begged them to save his life.

and they did. he's now recovering in the ICU and improving every day, and much faster than anyone expected after the condition he'd been in!! but this is still adding up just as fast--as anyone who's had to get prolonged pet emergency care can attest, I'm sure. I've maxed out my care credit and am hurriedly applying for discover loans as my parents begrudgingly hand over their credit cards to keep his care going through tomorrow. things are getting pretty bad.

Please... he's only 2. He deserves so many more years of life and I refuse to let a ribbon take that from him. I know none of you can just hand a stranger thousands of dollars, but any amount truly helps, as does sharing. Thank you in advance, and keep sending my boy your best fast-healing vibes.

#donation post #crowdfunding #cat

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harleehazbinfics · 2 months

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Mine, all mine.

a lucifer x reader fanfiction.

inspired by this ask: link

wc: 1728

warning: suggestive themes!!

a/n: sometimes i wish i could just give the program my brain and let it write itself. my ass is not suited for writing at extensive periods of time in one sitting.

You were a sinner, made to rot in hell for all of eternity until exorcist end your miserable souls. However, you refused to lead that fate. You disliked how other demons would underestimate you just because of how weak and fragile you looked, especially with your wings. So, you improvised, you took this to your advantage, eventually one-by-one overlords toppled over from your powers, becoming your servants or souls you feasted on. You never sought to purge sinners or become an overlord in the process for that matter, it was just that you heavily disliked being underestimated by these narcissistic souls, that you couldn’t help but put them in their place.

After decades of doing the same thing over and over again, you decided you wanted something different to do, other than manipulating and devouring retched souls all the time. With Alastor’s recommendation, you find yourself in Hell’s Hazbin Hotel, a hotel that aims to rehabilitate sinners and help them go to heaven. You didn’t oppose to the idea and if there would be sinners that find this their calling, then you’d like to support them in their endeavors, unlike your pal Alastor. Besides, it would be a free meal if some jackass just wanted to stir up some trouble with both of you around.

So, that’s what you led you here to this moment.

“—and this is (y/n), our other host, they’ve been helping with the hotel just a few months ago, despite being a busy overlord and all,” Charlie introduces you to each other.

“It’s a pleasure to meet the King of Hell himself. How do you do, my lord?” you greet with a polite smile after dipping your head in acknowledgement.

However, everything flew past Lucifer’s head when he saw your figure. You had a pleasant aura with an angelic face paired with bright beautiful wings that had him thrown in a loop. You had a kind and gentle gaze, lips a luscious shade of pink and cheeks full of life. You were simply ethereal—you didn’t look like you were from hell. You perfectly fit the standard for heaven’s angels and their winners.

“Uhh, dad?”

“Yeah, huh?!” Lucifer startles awake from his daydreaming and pays attention to his daughter. Finally realizing he was on a balcony with Charlie and Vaggie, a long way from where he was lost in thought.

“So, what do you think?” Charlie asks expectantly holding her hands together.

“Uh, yeah yeah. They look great. Say, who was that little friend you had there down there, are they also an angel?” he asks straightforwardly with a finnicky undertone.

“What? (Y/n)? No, they’re an overlord here in hell and our host. Didn’t I already say that?” Charlie replied starting to get annoyed with her dad.

“Oh, I see. They were just very beautiful looking, especially with those wings. I almost certainly thought they were an angel,” he rambles.

Vaggie and Charlie look at Lucifer stunned as Charlie starts, “What? Are you--? No, wait, dad we’re getting sidetracked. I meant the hotel! What do you think of it?!”

Then Lucifer goes on a tangent on how sinners could never be redeemed, and that they were vicious people who misused the gift that he gave them leading them here in hell. Before Charlie could fully give on getting her cause across to her father, a crash interrupts them.

They teleport downstairs and see a bunch of loan sharks barging their way into the hotel.

“Everyone! Get somewhere safe! I’ll handle this,” Vaggie yells readying her spear.

“No, my dear, leave it to me. It's time I remind everyone why I am here,” Alastor announces transforming into his demon form.

You chuckle unfurling your wings flying close to him, “Don’t forget about me.”

Lucifer ultimately shuts his mouth as he watches you dive headfirst towards one of the sharks stretching your hand out to grab their faces. You slam him roughly on the ground as his strength drains from his body. The longer you placed your hand on him the more his body crumples and dries, slowly wilting away from your touch. Leaving behind a red pulsing orb, you unhinge your jaw wrapping your tongue around it before swallowing it whole.

Lucifer’s stomach drops to his feet from the realization of his misconception of you, but he undoubtedly receives a hard-on as he can’t help but sexualize your actions. Wondering how it would feel wrapped around your long tongue and enveloped by your lips as you swallowed all of him.

He smacks himself across the face to rid himself of his thoughts and fixes his eyes on you and Alastor finishing up your massacre and dusting yourselves off. As he sees you both banter playfully, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his irritation for the male and comment towards Charlie.

“Mhm, you see? What'd I tell you? Charlie, sinners are violent psychopaths, hell bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There's really no point in trying.”

She angrily huffs and yells at him, “Dad! Stop! He's defending this hotel! It may be a bit more sadistic than I'd hoped, but he's doing it for me! How come he can have faith in me, but my own father can't?”

His face crumples as he realizes his mistake. Here was his daughter trying to realize her dreams but couldn’t even support her ideas and aspirations. He was no better than those elders that shunned him away for his dreams. He finally comes clean to Charlie and apologizes to her. Finally supporting her dream and agreed on setting up the meeting for her.

But before he teleports away, he glances at you which you only responded with a light smile and nodded your head at him appreciating his help. He couldn’t help but be expectant of the next time you’ll meet again. He wished that Charlie would give him a call again soon.

The next time you met was when the angels attacked the residents of the hotel. When the matter was settled, all of you—including the help you gathered from Cannibal Town, celebrated your win in the now more spacious hotel.

While the lot of them gathered sharing drinks on one side, he saw you by yourself on the other side. He stands next to you with a grin, tapping your shoulder and asks, “This seat taken?”

You get startled from his action unfamiliar with people touching you so casually and give a flustered answer, “N-no! Please have a seat.”

He chuckles as he sits next to you, noticing how you scooted a little further away from him. He feels saddened when he was trying to be close to you, but you pull yourself away from him. He couldn’t help but comment, “You don’t need to be so distant. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

You give him a smile and wrap your hands around your drink before answering, “Sorry. I’m just not used to people trying to come close to me at this distance, with my powers and all.”

He tilts his head cutely making you giggle and continue, “I guess Charlie didn’t tell you. I have the powers to drain demon’s powers. The longer I touch ‘em they die, and their soul becomes mine.”

He lets out a sound of understanding and mutters, “So that’s what that was.”

You look at him with you chin on your hand on the counter looking at him in interest. “Have you been watching me, your majesty?” you couldn’t help but tease.

You were not disappointed as you watch his face turn red as he fumbled with his drink while he tries to reply, “W-well, I couldn’t help but admire how strong you were. Either in a fight or just casually talking to you, you just seem to be so confident that I can’t help but keep my eyes on you.”

“You’re beautiful,” he finishes with a dreamy sigh.

“Are you hitting on me?” you ask complemented with a seductive smile.

His breath hitches as he realizes what he did, as he panics trying to save himself, “I mean! Please don’t take this the wrong way! I was just admiring— whoops!”

He accidentally drops his drink in his flustered state, with both of your fast reflexes you caught the glass together. His hand covering yours, he tilts his head not noticing anything different with himself as he holds you.

Meanwhile, you hastily place the cup down on the counter and fretted over him, “Are you alright? Are you unwell anywhere?”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t feel much different actually,” he says looking at his hands.

You sigh in relief not expecting this man to throw you off your loop. You’re so composed all the time that having this man in your proximity just destroys your braincells with how cute and charming he was.

“Actually, can we do that again?” he asks with a serious look, to which you hesitantly accepted locking your hands together for a while. As time passes on without much progress to his experiment, the more your cheeks turn into a bright shade of red that he finally catches on to.

“What’s go you so flustered all of a sudden, angel?” he teases squeezing your hand a few times egging you on.

You cover your cheeks with your other hand and tightly held his hand to make him stop, “I’ve never held hands with someone before.”

He smirks inching closer to your face, feeling his breath on you as he tried to memorize every part of you with half-lidded eyes, “Never been this close with a handsome bloke before?”

You stand from your seat, evidently towering over him from the sheer height difference then caging him in his both of his hands above him as you pinned him to a wall behind him.

“Never. Would you like to change that?” you whispered by his ear, earning a shudder from him.

“Bet,” he grins letting his forked tongue slither out of his mouth introducing itself to you while letting himself loose and held your waist. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

As the two of you disappeared from the group’s sights, Angel drunkenly yells, “OH, SHIT! LUCIFER’S GETTING SOME ASS TONIGHT!”

“Ewwww,” Charlie cries in disgust not welcoming the thought of his father fucking someone in her brain.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #alastor #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer

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diorsluv · 2 months

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die for you , part 1

“ swear i couldn’t sleep a wink last night ”

series m. list next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by jasonrob19, mush__27, trevorzegras, and 314,882 others

yourusername got new pink leg warmers 😈🎀

view all comments

username12 trevor has been liking and commenting for MONTHS there’s no way they’re not hooking up

→ username25 calm down she’s friends with turcs and cole 😭😭

logan.stankoven WE GET IT you got new skates or whatever

→ yourusername i will personally send you back to the ahl

→ logan.stankoven okay i was on fire on the texas stars 🥱

→ yourusername what if i light you on fire 🤗

→ logan.stankoven oh!

→ jpav8 let’s be nice guys

_alexturcotte is that the lululemon water bottle

→ yourusername HOW COULD YOU TELL FROM THE LID??

→ _alexturcotte my spidey senses tingled

→ yourusername turcotte tingle is insane

→ _alexturcotte HEY MAN don’t slander the family name ❌❌

username36 my figure skater idol 🙇‍♀️

username4 trevor zegras eh??

colecaufield and new skates and new skate guards and a new bag

→ yourusername you sent me money what was i supposed to do with it????

→ colecaufield use it to pay off your student loans 😒😒

→ yourusername but you already paid them off for me 😶

wyattjohnston_ that’s so preppy and coquette

→ yourusername stop. just stop 😭

→ wyattjohnston_ I’M TRYING TO BE SUPPORTIVE

→ yourusername THEN STOP

→ wyattjohnston_ you don’t want me to be supportive of you? 😔

→ yourusername no

jasonrob19 i bought those skates for you

→ mush__27 we know you spoil her 🙄

→ t.harley48 fr you ain’t gotta flex

→ yourusername indeed you did 😈😈

username41 i’m patiently waiting for the day trevor accidentally posts that they’re dating

→ username88 is he not with dixie??

→ username12 LMAO as if

jackhughes niceee solid skates

→ yourusername jack hughes 😱

→ jackhughes yes that’s me

→ yourusername i feel like a successful fangirl

→ jake30oettinger i thought you liked the stars 😒 yourusername

→ yourusername I LOVE THE STARS I PROMISE OTTER

trevorzegras 👍

liked by yourusername

→ _alexturcotte you’re such a pussy

→ trevorzegras you are what you eat

→ _alexturcotte stfu

→ colecaufield stop being so critical turcs

username53 it’s so preppy in here!

ilia_quadg0d_malinin oh please we all know i can do better

→ yourusername your ego is unbearably big

→ ilia_quadg0d_malinin say that to me when you land a quad

→ yourusername I LITERALLY DID IT BEFORE YOU THO????

→ ilia_quadg0d_malinin that’s a lie and we both know it

→ yourusername STOP GASLIGHTING ME THIS IS NOT BEST FRIEND BEHAVIOR

lhughes_06 Ma’am, would you like to visit the Prudential Center in Newark, New Jersey to watch us practice prior to our game against the Anaheim Ducks?

→ jackhughes you’re supposed to dm her, not publicly comment…

→ lhughes_06 YOU TOLD ME TO COMMENT ON A POST

→ lhughes_06 this is ur fault

→ yourusername YES I WOULD

→ lhughes_06 see it worked anyways jackhughes

t.harley48 you messed up the ice before practice 🤬🤬

→ yourusername stop whining start grinding 🥶

→ wyattjohnston_ stop whining start grinding 🥶

→ logan.stankoven stop whining start grinding 🥶

→ mush__27 stop whining start grinding 🥶

→ t.harley48 once i get on that zamboni it’s over for you all

yourusername

liked by miroheiskanen, trevorzegras, _alexturcotte, and 300,024 others

yourusername someone tell him i’m outside waiting rn 🙏

view all comments

username29 PLEASE TELL ME “HIM” IS TREVOR

ilia_quadg0d_malinin oh! when did you start posting about your crippling love life 😍

→ yourusername you’re like the only person i told and you proceed to make fun of me 😃😃

→ wyattjohnston_ no you told me

→ logan.stankoven and me

→ jpav8 and wyatt told me

→ hhinee you told me as well

→ miroheiskanen i also know

→ matt9duchene so do i

→ tseguin92 oh you told me too

→ t.harley48 don’t forget about me

→ jake30oettinger you literally told me too

→ mush__27 good lord how many people did you tell (i know about it too)

→ ilia_quadg0d_malinin you told an ENTIRE nhl team. yourusername

→ yourusername ……..i told you first…..?

→ jasonrob19 what are we talking about

nickrobertson01 that’s not one of your jackets…

→ yourusername how would you know if you haven’t been in my closet 🤨

→ nickrobertson01 you just gave me a closet tour on ft yesterday…..?

→ jasonrob19 then whose jacket is it?????

→ yourusername no one i swear it’s mine 😰😰

jamiebenn14 is that not a literal nightgown?

→ yourusername stop judging my stylistic choices 💔

→ tseguin82 THAT’S WHAT I WAS THINKING

→ yourusername you old men are NOT hip with the kids

→ jpav8 you’re breaking our hearts here 😔😔

username33 is that or is that not the outside of an ice rink???

username20 i swear to god she’s seeing trevor

username94 someone tell me i’m insane because i swear i’ve seen the ducks practice there before

→ username17 no no you’re not insane i think you’re right 😰

→ username11 lmfao maybe she just practices there too???

hhinee so to be clear, “him” is HIM right?

→ yourusername yes yes you’re right roop

→ jasonrob19 why do i not know what you’re talking about

username6 IF I’M RIGHT, i think i’ve seen that backpack in the background of one of trevor’s stories before…

logan.stankoven so what i’m hearing is if you hang out with him, you leave us alone?

→ yourusername what happened to the kid that BEGGED for my autograph when i showed up to one of the texas stars games

→ logan.stankoven YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVER BRING THAT UP

→ yourusername 🙄

→ wyattjohnston_ HE BEGGED?????

_quinnhughes cool fit i like it 👍

→ yourusername aw thank you ☺️

→ username37 OH MY GOD IS IT QUINN

→ username72 WHAT THE FUCK WAIT A SECOND

colecaufield i see you’ve been gaining more attention..

→ yourusername are you saying i’m not successful enough to regularly get attention??

→ colecaufield oh my god YOU ALWAYS DO THIS

_alexturcotte i have never seen someone leave mid-convo as quickly as i just did

→ yourusername you were with him?

→ _alexturcotte no he just stopped typing all of a sudden

→ yourusername so you were.. texting him????

→ _alexturcotte yeah??

→ yourusername THEN HOW TF DID YOU SEE HIM LEAVE??

→ _alexturcotte I DONT FUCKING KNOW I WAS JUST YAPPING

→ yourusername you know for someone so smart, sometimes you make no sense 😭

mush__27 you being 1,500 miles away should be a crime

→ yourusername oh stop complaining i was literally back home like 8 hours ago

username17 has trevor not commented yet??

→ username99 it’s not as if he comments frequently

jake30oettinger you’re so not slick

→ yourusername that’s great i’m so glad you noticed even though you literally didn’t know until i told you!

→ jasonrob19 PLEASE GOD JUST TELL ME 😔

next chapter notes ) your bitch is back with a trevor au and this time it’s gonna be irl + smau because i was fucking STRUGGLING with feather.. and also i’m thinking of the nickname being lacey because i think it’s just so cute and also i got a whole backstory and all… 😈 but regarding ilia malinin and all of my favorite dallas stars.. yall might have to know some stars and figure skating lore for this one but i don’t really think it’s gonna affect the plot of the story or the story itself (you just might not know who anyone is 😭😭) as always if you wanna be tagged, just comment or dm me!!

274 notes · View notes

shibaraki · 11 months

Text

SO THIS IS LOVE ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

synopsis: you’ve been dating your close friend and roommate, todoroki shouto, for almost a month. it’s new, and scary, and easier than you ever expected.

tags: GN reader, friends to lovers, newly established relationship, living together (+they were roommates), support engineer reader, pro hero shouto, fluffy fluff, implied class differences, casual affection (plenty of kisses etc), first date!!!, feeding each other, they’re in love your honor

wc: 4K

a/n: this takes place after my other fic ‘to build a home’ however!! fear not! it can also be read as a standalone ^_^ enjoy!

The vanity is littered with pieces of your life. Work you’ve brought home, tissue discarded after wiping down your dirtied hands, old draft sketches drawn haphazardly and set aside for sentimentality’s sake. Hero merch has been hung around the mirror frame. Small things. Keychains, magnets and bookmarks. A chibi shouto hangs on a ring, fist high and enveloped in ice.

Colour hems your peripheral vision, stems cut from a meadow and displayed in your room. Pink, green, purple and red. Shouto gave you a flower bouquet, roses and carnations and others that you cannot name without a guide; one he loaned expressly to learn the language of flowers for you.

The balmy, summer fragrance lingers, drawing a subconscious grin. You see it in your reflection, and you don’t look away. Not that you were unhappy before—but lately you can’t stop smiling. It is ever present, in your tone, in your disposition, in the pleased glow your coworkers liked to point out. Undeniably, things have been good.

Almost too good.

Dating Shouto changed everything and nothing. It was a uniquely embarrassing experience to reconcile just how obvious you had been throughout the years. You had prepared for wobbling baby steps. However, in many ways, it was as if you’d completely skipped the awkwardness all together, and Shouto became more emboldened than ever.

Exhaling, you push the thought aside. Your reflection relaxes once more as the tension bleeds from your shoulders. You’re all done up; donning your best clothes, an almost unrecognisable version of yourself compared to the oil-stained, work-swept appearance you usually took.

Tonight would be your first official date. Despite having been together for a few weeks now, your misaligned schedules and general lack of free time made it difficult to take that next step. You initially suggested setting up dinner at home. Candlelight and wine. Good food and good company is all you needed. As tempting as it was, Shouto insisted on treating you to somewhere proper—

His own words. ‘Proper’ was not your department. You didn’t know what to expect.

But the memory resurfaces, and at the vision of his soft pout, you ease. Things would be fine regardless of where the night took you.

Echoing through the hallway, Shouto’s bedroom door quietly clicks shut. You watch his silhouette appear beneath the crack of your own. He shifts his weight. The knock you anticipate never comes. Instead your phone lights up where it sits on the end of your bed. You stretch to grab it. The screen unlocks, opening onto your messaging app. Shouto’s name sits unread at the very top.

shouto : just now

Here to pick you up :)

“He’s trying to kill me,” you breathe, biting back an affectionate laugh and smoothing your thumb over the text. Filled with a sudden urgency to see him, you get to your feet. You pat down either side of your hips, ironing out the creases and give a last look to the mirror—pleased, beautiful.

Behind the door, Shouto anxiously waits. Fingers combed through his hair, the bicoloured strands have mixed into one another, brushed over to one side. The light glints. Gold studs sit in either ear, warming his complexion. He’s wearing a light sweater and dark trousers cinched with a belt. The sleeves are rolled midway along his forearm, casting light on a thin gold chain that hangs delicately around his wrist below the watch his older sister bought him for his birthday.

“You look really good,” you murmur, moving into his space. What would make an otherwise clumsy first encounter for any other came naturally to you both. Eyes drag over the length of your body. Shouto licks his lower lip, gaze heavier, and he pulls you in by the hips. A warm musk fills your senses. Pleasant notes of sandalwood and cinnamon. Your hands come to rest on his chest as you kiss his cheek.

“And you look beautiful,” he says. “Are you ready to leave?”

“I’m ready,” you concur, voice steeped in contagious excitement, “we’re going on a date”.

Shouto sways on his feet, your body moving with him, and his fingers dig into your hips as though restraining himself. “We are. Our first date,” stepping away, he gestures for you to take his arm. You coil around his bicep. Quiet, he continues, “I’m sorry it took so long to organise”.

You swat at his shoulder, falling in line with him as you make your way through the apartment. “Your needless apology is not accepted. I’ve told you it’s completely fine”.

Shouto hums a small, gratified sound, and then bends to take his shoes from the rack. You move to do the same. As you straighten he is pulling on a dark brown leather jacket, the collar flicking up when he shucks it around his chest.

A clink echoes out. He hooks his car keys through his forefinger and slowly looks you over without intent. “Bring a coat. The nights have been getting colder,” he tells you. You concede, endeared by his concern.

The car journey is mostly spent in a comfortable silence, feelings of anticipation tainting the air. You don’t ride with Shouto often, usually opting to take the subway, thus reclining into the plush padded leather is still relatively new. Shouto presses a button and a gradual heat gathers beneath your thighs. Your gaze drags to the gear stick, where his fingers are flexing. After some hesitation he shifts gears and rests his hand above your knee.

You stroke his forearm. His thumb moves in idle shapes. The traffic thins out when he takes an unexpected left onto an unassuming street and regretfully releases you. Car parked alongside a few others, strikingly expensive, Shouto cuts the ignition and you step out.

A clandestine entrance comes into view. Through double glass doors awaits a polished, minimalist lobby, leading to a flight of winding stairs. Upon reaching the top you realise the building houses a pair of adjacent restaurants. Traditional and Western, respectively.

Shouto encourages you toward the more traditional archway, and intermittently squeezes your hand. Your palms kiss, his skin a little clammy. The thought of him being nervous charms you. He glances over as you stroke your finger across his knuckles and his temperature seems to cool.

“Welcome”.

You startle. A server had approached at some point during the intimate moment, stoic and lingering; dressed in a pale kimono, not a thread out of place. With your attention she bends into a perfect bow. “It’s a pleasure to have you this evening. Will it be a table for two?”

“There should be a reservation under the name Todoroki,” Shouto replies with silvery cadence. Expression waning in recognition, the server nods.

“Right this way sir”.

You trail through the restaurant. The architecture is luxurious and calming, woodsy tones and warm accents. Thick sticks of bamboo hang over the ceiling, and pale structures formed to resemble cherry blossoms overhang the chef’s bar. Most notable is the fish tank behind it, pulsing gently as the filter whirls.

The server maintains a strict posture as she guides you to your table. Positioned in an intimate corner next to the window wall, overlooking a blushing cityscape, streaks of sunlight threading between buildings.

You take your seat and sink into the curved back. An illuminated centrepiece gently breathes, coming to life and casting a glow across the tablecloth. Cutlery of which you’ve never seen before is set out before you. “I will return to take your order in a moment…” you hear from your left.

Shouto voices his gratitude. His focus turns to you as the server retreats. “Everything okay?” he asks, too perceptive for his own good, somehow managing to make it feel as though he is still holding your hand through all this, even with the distance.

You hum, not trusting yourself to immediately speak. The menu is thick and glossy and heavy in your grasp. “…All good, handsome,” your eyes skim over the eclectic dishes. You squint at the small font, mind unspooling at the assortment of food—most you hardly recognised. “What do you think you’ll order?

With the tilt of his head, Shouto’s focus returns to his menu. While he reads through you wonder if it’s obvious that you’re out of place here. That you came home hours earlier and scraped the grease from your nail beds after tinkering with Ingenium’s suit for most of the afternoon.

“Their signature dish, maybe. I’ve heard the meat is good. They make it with an iron griddle,” Shouto’s thumb plucks restlessly at the corner of the card. Voice pitched lower, he adds, “And it’s the only thing I find appetising on here”.

Your brows raise at his admittance. Partly relieved by the shared uncertainty, though more surprised he felt it at all. “You’ve never been to a place like this?”

Shouto gives a plaintive blink. “No, I have. Years ago when I first debuted my father would drag me to places like this to network,” he says, setting down the menu. Sheepishness colours his features, “But I’ve never been here specifically. Momo recommended it”.

“Momo did?” you echo, subconsciously leaning onto the table. Shouto nods and shifts in his seat. “Cool. Has she ever brought Kyouka here?”

A wayward curl of crimson falls over his forehead as Shouto tilts. He brushes the stray hair back. “No, not that I’m aware. She mentioned that her parents often spent date nights here and they loved it”.

You smile helplessly, restless with the urge to pinch and pull at him. It was obvious that he��d put effort into organising this—maybe a little much. He had overthought things in true Shouto fashion.

“Why do you think that is?” you muse, hoping he’ll see your sincerity and hear you out. “It’s because Kyouka doesn’t like… extravagance. It makes her uncomfortable”.

Shouto considers this. “…Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“That’s not it, baby. I told you I’m happy to go wherever with you,” Shouto’s gaze momentarily drops, the corner of his mouth curling up. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s just—don’t always feel obligated to go to these lengths. Or spend this much. We can save all the fancy stuff for our anniversaries”.

You sit in a brief, comfortable silence, skin warming at the realisation of what you’ve said and the weight it carried. As he studies you carefully in the low light you hear the far off sound of food popping on the hot stove-top and smell a sweet, buttery aroma.

“I understand,” he exhales, resting his chin in the cup of his hand. A smirk teases his lips. “I guess I’ll need to find some other way to spoil you”.

“Shouto. You do more than enough—”

The server is approaching from the corner of your eye. You lightly kick his leg beneath the table to alert him, and he catches your foot between his ankles. There’s a small notepad and pen in her hand. She gestures to the menu.

“Excuse the interruption. Are you ready to order?”

Shouto recites his choice and you choose the same, trusting his palate. “Could we have a pitcher of water for the table?”

“Of course, sir”.

Your eyes linger on his jawline, the flex of his throat. Shadows dance across his face. The live music flows supple and amorous through the room. You want to lean into it; find yourself in Shouto’s arms and move as the rhythm dictates.

“Did you have a good day at work?”

The normalcy of the question catches you off guard in such a setting, and you blow air into your cheeks, embarrassed to be caught staring. He sits with arms folded atop the table to lean closer, unabashedly staring right back. “Work is work,” you reply, giving the routine answer. “What about you? Anything interesting?”

At that Shouto reaches to rest his hand over yours. Broad palm and paling bruised knuckles. He’s cool to the touch. Your heartbeat picks up as he begins to play with your fingers. “I caught a man trying to flash his genitals at an all girls school,” he says, attention drifting as he recalls what, for him, is a monotonous day. “Stopped a train from derailing—ah. One of the students we saved had an interesting quirk. I thought Izuku was going to ask her for an autograph…”

The evening unfolds. Darkness envelops the city and one by one people switch on their lights. It comes to life. You share laughter. You rub his calf and wisps of steam flutter around him. You talk, settling into a natural conversation, a complimentary rhythm, as you would’ve at home. Your once friendship hung lightly between you, an ephemeral thing, lacking weight or gravity. Any other first date experience paled in comparison; this didn’t feel like a first date at all.

Sitting there, now with an empty plate and your glass half full of liquor, a different spirit seems to sift inside you. Uninhibited contentment. The dressed up, high class onlookers fall away. Shouto looks at you over the lip of his mocktail as if you are the only thing he can see.

“A little weird, isn’t it?”

Shouto raises a brow and hums, “What do you mean?”

“Well, this is the part where people learn about each other,” you say. “We already know almost everything”.

“Not everything,” he stops to think. “Sometimes I swallow my gum instead of taking it out”.

“You—” startled, breathy laughter overshadows your reply. You cover your mouth and shake your head. “That’s gross. You’re ridiculous”.

A dazed smile teases Shouto’s lips, “You wanted to know”. The ice in his glass remains, cradled in his right hand, while condensation gathers around your fingers. “…We knew each other as good friends. That’s different”.

You take a quick sip, “Think so?”

“I know so,” he murmurs, his leg sliding between your own. “Now I get to learn about you all over again, in a new way”.

The thin hair on your arms prickles. Warmth and desire seeps through you, soaked into adipose tissue, tenderising thought and thew. “What a charmer,” you say, voice a little thick, seeing the night with new clarity. “You’re right. We just started a few steps ahead”.

Pleased at that, Shouto’s attention falls to the empty plates. “Should we get dessert?”

You consider the idea. It pulls you away from the moment, and everything sharpens in your periphery. Coalesced voices, the clink of cutlery, dulcet piano notes flowing beneath it all. “Not here,” you decide, an excited grin unfolding. “Let’s go get ice cream”.

Despite your protests Shouto pays the bill. You allow it, begrudgingly, since he had organised the date. In passing you bow your head toward the chef working behind the bar, and he gives an effusive ‘thank you’.

“Thank you very much,” another server calls politely, delicate hand raised to wave from behind his drink tray. “Please come again”.

Already too late into the evening, any ice cream parlour would be closed. Even so you clasp Shouto’s hand, bracing against the warmth, and direct him to a corner store on the far end of the road.

The cashier—reclined in a fold up chair, feet propped on the counter and cigarette in hand—staggers, almost tumbling to the floor as he registers Shouto’s identity. Though few, other customers stop to stare.

That feeling of unease returns once more. Amidst the bliss, and mellow, alcohol induced haze, you had completely forgotten about his status as a public figure and the scrutiny that might befall your new relationship as a result. You’ve been linked to various heroes before for business but never romantically.

Shouto is oblivious to it. Rather, you suppose he is used to the scrutiny. You recoil from their staring, and subsequently from his side, your anxious mind assuming some distance might cause them to think twice. In that instant an arm wraps firm around your lower back. Anchoring your hip, Shouto keeps you tucked against him, searching your face for objection.

You chew the inside of your cheek and relent, because you feel better when you’re close to him. The apprehensive and moderately starstruck atmosphere barely tickles him as he rummages through the large freezer. Ice creams and pops of every shape and colour. With a quiet, pleased sound, he plucks out a packet of bite sized matcha ice cream.

The cashier has steadied his hands by the time you’re ready to pay. Shouto deliberately frowns at the cigarette butts on the counter, discarded in an Endeavor themed ashtray. Not on account of any suspicion or disapproval, just simple pettiness. You know that but the poor young man does not, as he continues to nervously explain that his manager is ‘pretty lax about that kinda thing’.

“That’s nice,” Shouto tells him, passing his phone over the card machine. You press your lips thin to keep from laughing. A ping echoes out and the money goes through. “Thank you. Have a good night”.

Confused, the man gives a tremulous smile and nods, “Thank you for everything you do, Shouto, sir!”

Stepping into the tepid night air brings a wave of relief. Shouto releases your waist to pass you your cold treat. Falling into a lazy pace you start back toward the restaurant.

You’ve chosen an ice cream bar on a stick. Teeth sink into it like warm butter, the first bite melting on your tongue. Shouto is eating his delicately with a small pick and at your satisfied moan, he freezes, the next piece halfway to his open mouth.

“I haven’t had ice cream in forever,” you effused, licking the remnants from the corner of your lips. “Do you like yours?”

“Yes,” he replies, strained. You watch him from the corner of your eye. There’s a blush high on his cheeks. Drifting into the car park, he catches your gaze, slowing beneath a stream of light coming from the street lamp above. Cast in a syrupy, honey toned veil, he holds out the pick to you. “Would you like to try some?”

You smile at this, and then wordlessly part your lips. Shouto visibly swallows as he feeds it to you. Sweet earthy flavours harmonised with a hint of bitterness flood across your palate. Chewing, you hold up your mostly eaten ice cream bar and gesture for him to finish it.

Like you, Shouto opens up in a silent request to be fed. You turn the tacky stick between your fingers so he can get to both sides. “Thank you,” he mumbles, gently brushing his thumb at your mouth to wipe away a smear of cream. “For the ice cream and for tonight”.

“What’re you thanking me for?” you smile, besotted. His arms rise to welcome you into his chest. “You’re the one that did everything”.

Shouto squints in obvious disagreement and dips to give you a kiss. His lips are careful, still sweet with vanilla. You feel the soft tickle of his breath to your cheek, fingers carding through his hair as you breathe each other in.

“Let’s go home,” he murmurs.

Arriving at the apartment together is somewhat odd. The air is charged. Where you’d bid any other date goodbye, Shouto crowds into the genkan behind you and locks the door. You shrug off your coat and the thin hair on your nape tingles as he places hands on your hips, guiding you to the side and slipping past you.

Shouto lingers and you wonder if he’s having the same thoughts. “Are you following me?” you tease lightly, giddy at his presence so close to your heels.

“I’m walking you to your door,” he says.

“What a gentleman,” you laugh under your breath. Turning to lean against the frame, fingers wrap around the handle behind your back. Head cocked, you add, “Gonna come in for coffee, too?”

Hearing the innuendo, his expression settles into fond amusement. He cups your cheek. You lean into the shallow of his palm and draw him closer with your eyes. He inclines his face, nudges his nose against yours, and your mouths come together, already soft and open. You kiss for a while, before his lip curls and you both devolve into quiet laughter.

Breathless when he pulls away, you say, “Goodnight, Shouto. Thank you. I really enjoyed myself”.

“Sleep well,” he returns. “I’ll see you in the morning”.

Upon entering the solace of your bedroom, you’re overcome by an urgent giddiness. The energy has you bouncing on the spot, a squeal building in your chest that you don’t release until your face is buried deep in a pillow.

Sleep finds you in the early hours, creeping in amongst your tumultuous thoughts, mentally listing the options of what to do for the second date.

It’s as though you blink and morning shutters in. You stretch, limbs caught in the covers, and shy away from the light bleeding through your curtains. As senses sharpen and your body wakes, the distant sound of pots and cutlery draws your focus.

Your feet drag on the cool floorboards, dazedly wandering towards the tantalising smell pouring out from the kitchen. Shouto stands at the sink in a wrinkled shirt, the hem falling over his red boxers. There’s a slight bounce to his step as he moves, and his expression visibly brightens as he notices you.

“You’re perky this morning,” you mumble, still one foot in sleep, rubbing at the corner of your eye. “What, did you have a hot date or something?”

Hearing the affection in your voice, Shouto flashes a small grin. He slumps against the counter, leaning to check on the rice cooker. Steam curls up into the air. “A really hot date,” he affirms. A smile pulls at your lips.

You notice the two bowls already set out and turn to the coffee machine to pull out a second mug. “Sure there’s enough water in that?”

“Yes,” his puffy eyes narrowed. “I remembered this time”.

You hum, satisfied. Shouto drapes himself around your shoulders and you turn to press a soft kiss to his bare collar, exposed by the loose material of his sleep shirt. The roommate act falls away. “When do you need to leave?”

A warm breath brushes your temple as he sighs, “About twenty minutes”.

“You should go ahead and get ready, then. I’ll plate this up”.

Shouto nods with some reluctance. While he’s gone you fill his bowl and break an egg into it. Adding a little soy sauce and a dash of salt, you whip the rice with a pair of chopsticks until the egg is golden, turning foamy and giving the rice a tender texture. After repeating the steps you sprinkle mixed seasoning over both meals.

You set his coffee down on a coaster as he jogs out into the living room, hair lazily styled and his hero suit zipped to his midsection. “Thank you for the meal,” he says, slightly faster than usual, before proceeding to shovel the rice into his mouth.

“Don’t choke,” you pluck a sticky grain of rice from Shouto’s cheek and eat it. He blinks at you as he chews. “At least give me a few years first”.

The crinkles by his eyes deepen, scar tissue pulling taut. You swallow a hot mouthful of coffee to distract yourself from the way he visibly brightens. “I can give you more than a few,” he replies.

Heat prickles beneath your skin, “No romancing me at breakfast”.

Shouto laughs warmly. And with that you finish your meal together. He departs for work in a hurry, kissing the top of your head and calling out as he goes,

“Have a good day, love. I’ll see you at home”.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader

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