i saw you type din djarin and i swear my neurons were activated. ven i am drooling
for the past week, i’ve had visions of him watching you go about your nightly routine in the bathroom of the Crest.
the space is small. tight. too cramped for two people, but he forces it anyway— deathly silent in his movements as he slinks in. his broad metal frame filling out the small reflective pane fixed above the faucet, towering over you whilst you’re bent over the sink; all soft and vulnerable in your nighttime ensemble. the low cut of your top a stark contrast to your usual conservative work attire.
he likes it.
more than he thought he would— the view of your confined tits bouncing in the foggy glass, tantalizing. fastening his grip on your hips, his thrusts landing that much harder. hoping that, with enough force, they’ll reveal themselves to his veiled eyes, tumbling out into the open for his hardy fingers to latch on.
your sweet mewls bouncing off the walls of his helmet, echoing wetly inside his skull, a lucid dream. dusky visor trained atop the basin, captured by the clamminess of your skin. your face knotting up in pleasure quickly becoming a permanent fixture in his mind as you crumpled beneath him.
Hi! My name's Nadi, and I spend several hours every day aggregating news and science before updating the archive. If you appreciate the effort, please consider sending a tip! At the link below, you can find several options to shoot me a little fundage. All procedes go to keeping me fed, housed, and HRT'd, and keeping my cats and dogs fed and happy. I don't expect to make a living wage on the kindness of strangers or anything like that, but the tips really do help keep me financially afloat as I continue to seek better-paying work in these trying times. (This is especially tough as a trans woman living in the South)
They’re trying to push this out. I know most of you don’t think calling does anything, but that’s only cause so little do. If everyone who sees this post call them just once it would remind them that their job is for the people not their own interests. Remind them that we’re more than capable to fight back of pushed too far. Remind them that we deserve to have a voice. Remind them that there are people that they work with who are more of a danger to children than the internet is. Remind them why they want to push this bill; remind them why they want to silence us. And most importantly, remind them why it’ll never work.
Stay strong and don’t back down. And even if you don’t have the will to call, you can still vocal your frustrations on social media. Talk about, have your favorite creators talk about it. Hell, go to our House members dems. Just make your voice heard. Make them know we’re more than numbers, more than data, more than our wallets. We have free will, it’s time we use it to its full potential.
If you need help or resources please check out this Discord server: https://discord.gg/3DEtuSCv4
Check out the Stop Internet Censorship community on Discord - hang out with 1671 other members and enjoy free voice and text chat.
Emergency, Internet Censorship Bills . your Reps. Call script examples below
(Confession: I don't understand myself if should be calling reprs or senators.)
Castor, one of the original main Democratic congressman pushing KOSA (Kids ONline safty act), is supportive of the House version in the KIDS Act. (The Kids Internet and Digital Safety Act)
Explanation: (The KIDS Act, a package of proposals the Energy and Commerce panel advanced as a single bill on a party-line vote in March. It was a way neak through a collection of controversial bills like KOSA and the SCREEN Act under a new name. I had a post about it back in March)
. This is extremely dangerous and could symbolize other sentiments in the Senate right now. Blumenthal can talk all he wants on how the KIDS Act is dead on arrival but that is not true. This is an all hands on deck moment. BLOW UP THOSE PHONES. Call 202-224-3121. Spread it.
. BLOW UP THOSE PHONES.
Find Your Representative | house.gov
Find Your Members in the U.S. Congress | Congress.gov | Library of Congress
OR Call 202-224-3121. Spread it.
Kids Internet and Digital Safety Act. Or KIDS Act.
Calling scripts ideas
Republican version
Hello, my name is [NAME]. Kids Internet and Digital Safety Act. Or KIDS Act, and its equivalents and similar legislation scattered in other bills: The Kids Online Safety Act, and a bunch of Age Verification mandates such as the SCreen ACT .
The KIDs act deceptively named bill, while it claims to protect children on the internet, is just repackaging unpopular censorship bills.
The SCREEN act placed inside this would enable constant surveillance of American citizens, and put the sensitive data of everyone - especially children - at risk. The UK's disastrous rollout of the Online Safety Act is a perfect example of how unpopular, dangerous, and ineffective these laws are. Age verification bills mandate or incentivize that personal data be collected all in one place, making it easy for hackers gather, endangering children' s information and safety.
Kosa not only has similar problems, but gives state attorney generals too much power to sue any website for any reason. The last thing we need is a nanny state telling adults what we can and cannot see online.
I call on you to oppose these bills and similar.
Democrat version
"Hello, my name is [NAME]. Kids Internet and Digital Safety Act. Or KIDS Act, and its equivalents and similar legislation scattered in other bills: The Kids Online Safety Act, and a bunch of Age Verification mandates such as the SCreen ACT .
The KIDs act deceptively named bill, while it claims to protect children on the internet, is just repackaging unpopular censorship bills.
The SCREEN act placed inside this would enable constant surveillance of American citizens, and put the sensitive data of everyone - especially children - at risk. The UK's disastrous rollout of the Online Safety Act is a perfect example of how unpopular, dangerous, and ineffective these laws are. Age verification bills mandate or incentivize that personal data be collected all in one place, making it easy for hackers gather, endangering children' s information and safety.
Kosa not only has similar problems, but gives state attorney generals too much power to sue any website for any reason.
Current FTC Chair Ferguson signed up "to fight wokeness" - a label the Trump administration applies to anything it doesn't like. The people in power can't be trusted with laws like these. If passed, these bills would be used to harm LGBTQ teens, adults, and anyone who needs information on reproductive health .
I call on you to oppose these bills and similar.
My old Callling script examples (I b combined to make above
I am calling urging you to oppose the passage of the Kids Internet and Digital Safety Act. Or KIDS Act.
This deceptively named bill, while it claims to protect children on the internet, is nothing but a Trojan horse for censorship and control of information. It was made by people who are trying to brute force through Congress a collection of controversial internet bills covering everything from age verification, online ID, and data collection just for people to be able to do something as simple as use a search engine or download an app. Do you really want Big Tech companies to be allowed and even encouraged to collect mass amounts of data to supposedly protect children? By trying to sneak through a collection of controversial bills like KOSA and the SCREEN Act under a new name, this bill undermines the foundation of the citizens privacy and safety in online spaces.
Vote against the KIDS Act, and all other internet bills which threaten the integrity of our privacy and freedoms online."
my script from past post Monsters and Junk — Update on KOSA and other internet censorship....
"Hello I am calling about Kids Online Safety Act, The NO FAKES act, and a bunch of Age Verification mandates. being proposed
As has been said before, these age verification bills collect data all in one place for hackers to easily gather, making children less safe. This has been shown when other countries tried like UK's Online Safety Act rollout.
Kosa not only has similar problems, but gives state attorney generals too much power to sue any website for any reason.
And finally, the No fakes act is written too broadly It. would make it so that all depictions of a person's likeness or voice are restricted [(not just ai generated] While sounding good on paper, this would in the process expose users, creators, platforms and developers exposed to lawsuits for everyday speech like memes and parodies. Making it so that anyone with deep-enough pockets could file a lawsuit to ANYONE they [accuse of using] AI for anything .
These are all disasters waiting to happen and I thus ask you oppose them."
So I just finished calling my Reps and Senators this morning about these dangerous internet bills that we do not want to become law with the script I asked Gemini to make. You don't want to copy it word for word, you can tell them why you oppose these bills in your own words, and also, especially, tell them that you will NOT vote for them this upcoming election should they keep prioritizing these unwanted age verification laws.
...
Script:
You: "Hello, my name is [Your Name] and I am a constituent living in [Your City/Town or Zip Code]. I am calling to urge [Representative/Senator's Last Name] to vote NO on the Kids Online Safety Act (KOSA) and the KIDS Act package."
Staffer: (Will usually say thank you, and may ask for your reasoning or take notes.)
You: "While protecting children online is a vital goal, these bills utilize a fundamentally flawed approach that threatens the digital rights and free speech of all internet users—including the young people they claim to protect.
I strongly object to these bills for three main reasons:
Mass Censorship Concerns: By creating vague legal liabilities for online platforms, these bills will force tech companies to aggressively over-filter the internet. This will result in the suppression of constitutionally protected speech and restrict access to vital educational resources, mental health support, and communities for marginalized youth.
Privacy and Surveillance Risks: In order to comply with these regulations, websites will be heavily incentivized to implement mandatory age-verification technologies. This means everyday citizens and minors will be forced to hand over sensitive personal data or government IDs just to browse the web, dramatically increasing the risk of data breaches and government surveillance.
Stripping Digital Autonomy: These laws prioritize top-down censorship over genuine digital literacy and safer platform architecture, undermining the fundamental rights of users to access information freely.
I see past the well-intentioned names of these bills. Please let the [Representative/Senator] know that if they continue to prioritize legislation that expands censorship and surveillance under the guise of safety, I will absolutely remember it, and they will not have my support or vote in future elections. Can I count on the [Representative/Senator] to vote NO on this package?"
Ring your representatives, your senators, etc and tell them to vote no.
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House Energy and commerce committee has announced an Agreement on Bipartisan Kids’ Safety Package, which includes KOSA.
TL;DR
House and Energy agrees on kids safety package called “KIDS ACT” which includes KOSA and 16 other bills
They have secured democrat support for a once republican only package
Democrats weren’t supporting the package because it didn’t go far enough
New text would require KOSA to force companies to curb harms to young users, though the differences between the senate and house versions of KOSA might cause challenges
With the senate version requiring a duty of care, with many pointing out to be a massive push for censorship (as is the other kid safety bills)
It does include provisions of date collection of young people and a bill that would push for better privacy for young people (oh the irony)
It’s not known when the bill will go to the senate floor, but it could be as soon as next week
full text
They have agreed on a version of the KIDS (Kids Internet and Digital Safety) ACT
“Securing Democratic support for the initially Republican-only package marks a significant step toward advancing the package through the chamber.”
“Republicans on the committee in March had approved the package along party lines at the time, with Democrats ripping into provisions as not going far enough to safeguard younger users.
new kosa text
The newly revised text would tweak KOSA to require social media companies to establish policies that would curb harms to young users.”
“Still, differences between the House and Senate version of KOSA remain, signaling challenges to get the legislation to President Donald Trump’s desk.
The Senate bill would create a legal obligation for tech companies to exercise reasonable care when designing their platforms to prevent harms to minors, otherwise known as a duty of care.
Lead co-sponsor Sen. Marsha Blackburn (R-Tenn.) is separately negotiating a deal with the White House on a legislative package that would include her version of KOSA, along with preemption of state regulations on AI, in addition to other provisions.”
“The House package would also override state laws that do not meet the federal standards, establishing a floor, while still allowing states to enact stricter regulations related to youth online safety.
other stuff added
The package was broadened to include a provision, championed by Pallone, that would address data brokers’ collection and use of data from minors,
as well as a bill that would improve privacy settings for teens, known as the Children and Teens’ Online Privacy Protection Act.”
what’s included
“The bill includes portions of:
o The SCREEN Act
o The Kids Online Safety Act (KOSA)
o The Safe Messaging for Kids Act
o The SPY KIDS Act
o The Safer GAMING Act
o The SAFE Bots Act
o The Children and Teens’ Online Privacy Protection Act (COPPA 2.0)
o Data Broker Disclosures
o The Safe Social Media Act
o The No Fentanyl on Social Media Act
o The Assessing Safety Tools for Parents and Minors Act
o The Promoting a Safe Internet for Minors Act
o The AWARE Act
o The Kids Internet and Safety Partnership Act”
The Committee on Energy and Commerce is the oldest standing legislative committee in the U.S. House of Representatives and is vested with th
House lawmakers have reached a bipartisan deal on a legislative package intended to strengthen online safety and privacy protections for chi
quick reminder for those in the US to contact your state lawmakers/representatives and voice your opposition to KOSA/the KIDS act! they reached a bipartisan deal on 06/22/2026, and it could pass house as early as next week, so now would be the time act!
not only is KOSA a trojan horse for the government to collect as much data and have as much surveillance over us as possible, but it also will most assuredly be used for mass-censorship purposes, too. they do not want to protect kids, they want to harvest your info and ban everything they deem inappropriate.
it's failed to pass due to pushback before, we can stop it from passing again. either go to house.gov to contact your state rep (here's some call scripts so you know exactly what to say), otherwise badinternetbills.com and stopKOSA.com will help walk you through the process.
Update on KOSA and other internet censorship. Short script at bottom, longer below cut
Phone numbers for the Commerce subcommittee are below the cut, but also contact your representative
The NO FAKES Act Could Silence Satire, Commentary, And News | Electronic Frontier Foundation
The NO FAKES Act is supposed to target harmful AI-generated impersonations. But in reality, it will make it easier to suppress commentary, s
NO FAKES could also undermine the rights of the people it is supposed to protect. The new federal “likeness” right could be licensed or transferred to others, so individuals will lose control over the use of their own face and voice. That’s not theoretical—workers in the entertainment industry are routinely asked to sign broad contracts about the future use of their likenesses.
View on Twitter
What is happening: There is a lot of pushback on KOSA and AI regulation. KOSA due to the duty of care and other problems, some in congress want it worse and some want it not as bad. AI regulation is the same, some want it and some want to ban it. Senator Blackburn and some other GOP leadership (House GOP leadership, Ted Cruz, etc) are working with the White House to reach some type of deal including KOSA, the No Fakes Act (an AI bill that sucks really bad), and other age verification provisions. House GOP leadership is going to the R's and D's in the House Energy and Commerce Committee to strike a deal. It is very critical we put our foot down and push even harder right now, because this can go very bad very quickly.
example what to say l, longer script below cut
"Hello I am calling about the Kids Online Safety Act, The NO FAKES act, and a bunch of Age Verification mandates. being proposed
As has been said before, these age verification bills collect data all in one place for hackers to easily gather, making children less safe.
This has been shown when other countries tried like UK's Online Safety Act rollout.
KOSA not only has similar problems, but gives state attorney generals too much power to sue any website for any reason.
And finally, the No Fakes Act is written too broadly It. would make it so that all depictions of a person's likeness or voice are restricted [(not just ai generated] While sounding good on paper, this would in the process expose users, creators, platforms and developers exposed to lawsuits for everyday speech like memes and parodies. Making it so that anyone with deep-enough pockets could file a lawsuit to ANYONE they [accuse of using] AI for anything .
These are all disasters waiting to happen and I thus ask you oppose them."
and stuff on KOSA
"Multiple experts agree this bill pushes age verification, even with the new language. KOSA hands more private data of children to third party companies, by forcing it to be collected for identification purposes. That will give hackers and harasser and predators an easy way to find the information all in one place. This identification system proposal cannot replace proper parenting.
Please look elsewhere for a better way to protect our kids.
Something quick and simple to use while calling. from user spdy4
Greetings, my name is [Insert Name], and I am calling as one of your constituents to oppose KOSA, The NO FAKES act, and a bunch of Age Verification mandates. KOSA would open the door to soo many hackers, and should we really be handing our IDs and Data to Big Tech Giants like META, OpenAI, and Google? [we've seen in past with attempts in the UK that collecting this data makes it easy for hackers to find it all in one place] This would harm more children than it is protecting and goes against our first amendment rights of Free Speech and Privacy.
The NO FAKES act would make it so that all depictions of a person's likeness or voice are restricted [(not just ai generated] While sounding good on paper, this would in the process expose users, creators, platforms and developers exposed to lawsuits for everyday speech like memes and parodies. Making it so that anyone with deep-enough pockets could file a lawsuit to ANYONE they [accuse of using] AI for anything .
And Age Verification Mandates would require users to disclose personal information before accessing lawful speech online. Eliminating anonymity, and threatening our privacy. Making the Internet reveal ourselves on the internet where many people will be at Great risk of being exposed, having their data harvested by data brokers, and is incompatible with our God-given American right to free-expression. These bills would make the internet worse for everyone, and our economy. There are better ways of protecting kids online, but these bills would put this kids, and even adults into seriously grave danger. I urge you to say No to these bills, and to keep the Internet private, and open to the American peopl
"Feel free to change it to suit your preferences, based on what political party you're calling, or just to make it more factual. Hope this helps!"
202 225 0773 unavailable as of 8 PM EST, please use others here http://robinkelly.house.gov/contact/offices Zipcodes https://www.house.gov/htbin/ziplook_find?ssdd=il02
do not bring that 'it's alright to not orgasm when having sex with a man <3' shit around here i will explode you with my mind immediately after hitting the block button i'm SICKKKKKKKKKKKKK<KKKKKKKKK of it
to me this conversation falls under the same umbrella as 'well i like giving my man head' like this is all alright and not only alright but completely socially acceptable. it's not a conversation that needs to be had because it's been the norm for all of history. yes women don't often come when having heterosexual sex. this isn't new. so why is there this insane campaign trying to gaslight all of us into thinking this is some new revolutionary concept
thinking very much about pawing at crocodile, teasing, vying for his attention after weeks of watching him play pretend with the clueless citizens of alabasta.
and he does.
eventually.
but he’s in a mood— which is how you wind up in his office, your back pinned to his front, skirt strewn across your lap, hiding the debaucherous view of your silken walls, plump and swollen with want, soaking through the crotch of his slacks and into the fine leather below as they grip his shaft, dragging him deeper, prying you apart with its girth alone.
hungry eyes look on in twisted rapture as you struggle in his lap, thick knuckles loosely cradling his pen. the stack of papers all but forgotten as he raps the golden clip against the expensive mahogany; a steady, mocking rhythm that serves to unsettle you even more.
deep, mirthful chuckles wear at the rusty hinges of your restraint as you squirm. tip wedged so snuggly against what feels like your very core, the pressure almost unbearable as you try and muffle your cries into his shirt, clutching desperately at his sleeve, wrinkling the fine fabric. the astringent scent of tobacco and lavish cologne swathes your senses like an old blanket, weathered yet familiar. your pitiful pleas for completion falling into the backdrop of his cruelty.
…until kempt nails scrape the delicate underside of your stomach.
immediately, you clench— any semblance of self-control utterly thrown out the window. your heart rate spiking when an unknown hand casually slips between your legs.
lithe fingers glaringly absent of jewelry wordlessly trace the shape of your puffy folds, bracing their palm against the fur of your mound, carding through the frothy mess now pooling at the base of his cock and you jerk- letting out a strangled sob when those moistened fingertips circle back to your clit-
in Genya’s mind, he lost his will the night his mother turned. after that, it’s been nothing but anger and desperation at his helm.
he’s just gone though so much and rarely has the energy to do all the normal shit that civilians do; can’t talk to people, people only “talk” to him behind his back, and the only person he wants to talk to, well . . .
then he bumped into you.
being an attendant of the butterfly manor meant you dealt with the injured on a regular basis. sometimes you loved it, others not so much. the honor in aiding such a valiant cause was often circumvented by the amount of foolish, reckless or outright arrogant men that would wind up in your care.
the day you met was. . not your best.
a mizunoto managed to scare some of the younger attendants with his brash attitude and you didn’t want to upset Shinobu by giving him the telling off he deserved. professionalism was crucial.
luckily, Aoi had enough obstinacy to go around.
and as you went through the halls in search of her, Genya had turned the corner and nearly knocked you to the ground with a shoulder check to the head, thanks to your shorter stature.
his awkward demeanor came across as aloofness, to where you had to walk away before your mouth got the better of you.
not even an hour later, he hobbled into the clinic with a slash on his arm, an almost constipated look washing over his face the minute he saw yours.
the rest was history.
slow days aren’t uncommon on the butterfly estate. for staff, it usually consisted of changing and washing linens, restocking medical supplies or aiding any lingering patients.
though you never quite appreciated it like this.
“y’know what time it is?”
the monstrous slayer looks shyly at the floor— the two empty beds, the wall to your right, anywhere but you.
stepping away from the shoji, you ogle his shuddering frame as delicate fingers cup his strong chin to maneuver him closer, pulling him down enough to rest his forehead onto yours.
you’re loud in your scrutiny. hooded gaze watching him pink and scrunch his eyes.
pressing your lips against his scar in a deceitfully gentle manner, he feels the eagerness in your touch, not a trace of disgust or apprehension as you pepper the gnarly tissue.
he can’t help but lean into your kisses as they lazily trail the bridge of his nose, brushing his cupid’s bow.
“hmm?” anticipation makes your words floaty, mere wisps in the air. butterfly kisses litter his cheeks, sending chills down his spine.
he bows his head, sheepish.
“yeah?”
you tilt your head, tickling his lips with a budding smile, “wha’ time is it?”
your eyes twinkle as he slowly opens his mouth— only to close it without a word.
he tries to hide his embarrassment in your neck once more, not before you snake your arms around his neck and stuff your hand into his mane for a cautionary yank.
“c’mon, tell me. be sweet.”
he swallows the knot in his throat, feeling the fabric of his pants rub against his aching cock.
“i-it,” his brain begins to shut itself off.
fuck— for all the humiliation you put him through, he finds himself wallowing in it everytime.
“. . ‘s time to get fucked.”
lurid glee stains your features, “tha’s right,” your praise drips with condescension. staring into his reclusive violets like they held the sun up, even when he bucks into your plush stomach, you take his cheeks into your hands and carefully knead the broiling skin, whispering, “‘s time t’ get fucked.”
planting a firm kiss on each one, you step back and retreat to the nearest bed.
he shivers. whether it’s the sudden deprivation of heat or the coy look thrown over your shoulder as you hoist yourself onto the fresh sheets, lower half poised in the air; those eclipsing pupils never once wander.
especially when you spread your knees and sink onto your tummy, hips swinging more than is necessary, hiking the skirt of your kimono up over your tailbone— all in one smooth, practiced motion.
or when you reach back to pat your bare ass, brown and beckoning just as your eyes.
Before her time at UA, she could count on one hand the number of people she acknowledged as more than the regular acquaintance— a grand total of one person.
Habuko.
But when they went their separate ways, she pretty much fell out of contact. And really, she didn’t have much time for friendship anyway, what with her little siblings.
Now she has an entire class.
It’s a welcomed change. Being surrounded by people closer than an arm’s length, her nights spent not scrolling through elementary level homework or groggily opening her bedroom door for a nightmare-adled child; but giggling at magazines and silly stories from the mouths of her peers, nails wet with polish.
And after an overseas venture during one of her apprenticeships, she has something even better.
A cousin.
Blood relation didn’t matter. You were family regardless.
“Y’all like, what— sixteen, seventeen now? How the fuck is he still enrolled?”
“This is actually an improvement, believe it or not.” She croaks to your bewildered expression on the top corner of her laptop screen. “Last year, he tricked us into wearing cheerleader outfits on national television.”
“And your teacher just let it slide?”
“He got a few days detention.”
Her face stands impassive as you kiss your teeth, though not out of disagreement. Even if Aizawa-sensei’s methods were harsher than most, she and the other girls had considered it a rather minor punishment.
The minutes stretch on and soon; she’s going over her english essay, one of her more weaker subjects, nodding absentmindedly as the topic changes to your “not so exciting” weekend— never one to pass up the opportunity to complain about your job.
And while you weren’t on the hero track like she was, that never stopped you from reaching out to her during her patrols.
“Tsu, I swear t’ god, I almost walked out like . . . so instead of opening your grown ass mouth or showing me how to do it— like you ‘posed to— you fix your lips up t’ gaslight me for calling you out on it?”
Hero work was a lot. That’s an undeniable fact of society.
Not for the feint of heart nor for any and everyone. It takes guts, discipline, and strengths of insurmountable proportions just to get one’s foot in the door. Nevermind the boundless challenges and occasionally, morally dubious choices to be faced with. It’s thankless work.
And still, Tsuyu held no envy for baristas.
“Shit’s gotta be on purpose at this point, ain’t no way—” you spit into the mic, nearly ripping the pages in your homework packet as you begin to work through the problems on the other side.
“There’s no one else you can report to?”
“No— well, there’s the coach but,”
“. . . but?” she pries.
“It just . . doesn’t seem like a big enough issue for that,” your features twist a bit, muddying with doubt. “Best case scenario: I tell him and get retaliation from her afterwards; Worst: I’m out of a job— and if I’m being real, it’ll ‘prolly go nowhere cause,” you roll your eyes contemptuously. “Well, you know HR.”
Tsuyu doesn’t know about HR. Not on a personal level anyways.
“I’d still try— just to cover all your bases. Push comes to shove, you can get another one.”
She looks back to her work as you scoff, “In this economy?“
A wave of silence washes over, not a drop of awkwardness in its depths. Filled only by the clatter of her keyboard and occasionally the soft whizz of turning pages.
Then, behind the couch, she hears shuffling— muted but steady enough to affirm that whoever it is isn’t trying to sneak up on her.
Pranks were surprisingly an uncommon occurrence in the dorms, likely due in part to Sensei’s artful wrath (though that never stopped a select few from attempting, in spite of the fact)
There’s also the matter of her location as traffic is to be expected in the common area. Not only is it connected to the front door, but the kitchenette as well. Students flitted in and out the room almost hourly.
So when an odd noise suddenly bleats through her speakers, her eyes dart to the corner of her screen and is instantly put off by the look on your face.
“You okay?”
Your mouth moves but nothing comes out, apparently too shook to speak up, and she just observes, paying little mind to the agitation sparking in her chest.
It’s not like she read lips for a living, okay?
All she can make out is the first word— who’s? — which, thankfully, carried enough breadcrumbs for her to complete the trail of thought.
Shifting off her now-numb legs, Asui sticks her neck out to peek into the kitchen doorway, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of her bun pressing against the cushions.
There’s no visible signs of life although there is some light clattering. The sound of cabinets and drawers opening and closing.
“. . . who was that?” your shock is downplayed by a thin coat of awe when she turns back, neck growing sore from the uncomfortable positioning.
“Why’re you whispering?”
“Tsu.”
She gives one of those slow blinks, the ones that showcased just how unamused she was; flatly recalling your own nickname.
“You ain’t tell me there were such fine men in your class.” you surmise accusingly.
Fine?
. . . wasn’t the word she’d use.
Creepy perhaps. Loud for sure. Maybe, just maybe she’ll throw in a tentative “cute” on the behalf of Kouda or Iida or Midoriya— Todoroki too, if the word didn’t land so weak on his admittedly divine features.
Then again, she is a bit biased.
Flickers of hearty giggles and finger-beans gather warmth in her cheeks.
Quietly, she falls back into the present, popping all the sparkly bubbles and blowing away the rose-colored clouds.
“There isn’t.”
Had you spoke just a second before, she would’ve missed the stifled chortle from across the room.
“‘s not nice to lie to family.” You insist.
Briefly, she wonders if you’d still have this opinion if you saw a handful of the escapades that she did— Kaminari’s piss poor attempts at flirting (and generally just making an ass of himself) or Bakugo’s morning ritual of screaming into the mirror and getting toothpaste everywhere but the sink; or Kirishima’s moping when his hair dye is out of stock.
“I’m not,” you shoot a look.
“Tsu, stop playing.”
You don’t even grant her the chance to retort, flat gaze glaring like she’d been playing her phone aloud on the subway “—telling me you, Miss Froppy, missed a purple giant walking right past you?”
That gives her pause.
“Oh, that’s Shinsō.”
“He single?” you don’t skip a beat.
The frog girl shrugs while you pout, glancing over when another louder, still muted chuckle trickles out from the other room.
“You never mentioned him before.”
“He just transferred this year.” She fiddles with her fingertips a bit, a little put off by the reality of discussing someone who’s just a few feet away and very clearly listening in. “And it’s not like we interact much outside of our shared friend groups . .”
“‘s so unfair,” you kiss your teeth, homework quite literally shoved aside.
“. . or class, really.“
“Surrounded by all that ‘n you don’t even want any— god clearly has favorites.” You mostly grumble to yourself.
Before her brain can think to catch up with her, Asui’s eyes roll straight to her hindbrain.
Honestly, you were too much sometimes.
Her attention is eventually taken by the harsh glare of the screen, blank white space making up a good chunk of her essay.
“I listen to you wax poetic about Uravity every other day, don’t give me that look.”
Her pout falls on blind eyes as your thoughts run wild.
“. . he mean?”
Putting all her weight into the back cushions, she hopes against all forms of logic to get pulled in and suffocated, just to avoid this conversation.
“He’s . . kind of like Sensei in some ways.”
“The home room teacher?”
Asui nods, subconsciously putting a finger to her chin. “Low energy, a surprisingly high tolerance for people considering his mouth— little edgy too if I’m being honest,“
Something moves in her peripherals but she refuses to turn, “but it’s not as bad as Tokoyami so it’s fine.“
It’s like looking through a kaleidoscope. Every admission seemingly adding another sparkle to your vibrant gaze.
“. . his mouth, you said?”
Your name breezes past her lips, exasperated.
“What, you weren’t exactly specific,” you’re fully aware that your impishness is unappreciated.
“You don’t sound upset about it.”
“Hush.”
Against her will, a small smile plumps her cheeks.
It’s so easy to get caught up in the technicalities of heroics and schoolwork. On good days and bad days alike.
It’s in moments like these that she’s reminded just how fun it is to banter.
“It’s mostly a quirk thing, I think. Definitely a snarker though.”
She taps her chin distractedly. “Still, he’s a good guy— had our backs through some pretty scary situations, even before he transferred.”
The teen in question is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, strong features arched and swimming in the clear waters of amusement when she peeks around the throw pillow.
A soft hum flickers through the speakers.
“. . he like women?”
She calls you again.
“I’m just asking!”
“What part of “we’re not close” did you misunderstand?” She phrases it like she’s addressing her siblings.
“You’re so mean to me sometimes, y’know that?”
“Ask him yourself then.”
You let out a sardonic-sounding bark, “yeah, I’mma fly all the way t’ Japan to shoot my shot— not to be weird but do you like black girls— sorry, foreigners?”
It spits out like a geyser, “He’s not that kind of person.”
If his vocality towards quirkism truly was genuine as it was passionate, Asui had no qualms about the lilac-head’s ethics and morals.
Systems of oppression are insidious in that they burrow into any and everything, like garlic in a freezer. Takes something and taints it with it’s putrid touch until the sweet vanilla taste is lost beneath an acrid sea.
Some point out the change. Some point at them and say it’s saccharine as ever. Others just eat the abomination in silence.
Shinsō was asocial, not quiet. Never met her unblinking gaze with disgust or sneered as he eyed her tongue for more than a few seconds.
“So you know he not ignorant but not if he’s single?” You deadpan.
“I am.”
You both jump at the low, rich voice, the frog hero personally biting back an (rare) expletive.
The purple bastard, presumably tired of playing bystander, saunters by the arm of the couch, allowing her to catch the tail end of his grin before losing sight of him entirely.
Faint scuffling behind her tells her he’s not taking any detours and for that, she counts her blessings. However small.
“And for the record— yeah, I do.”
. . something you clearly lack, based on the sheer mortification now practically bleeding through your pores.
Because of how her laptop camera is set up, Tsuyu can’t actually see him unless she turns around.
Though whatever it may have been couldn’t have been too far, she supposes; as your pupils eclipse your irises in real time, spreading the chestnut ring thin.
Within seconds, the ambient silence rolls back in, tranquil yet suffocating. Like a monoxide leak.
“Tsu.”
She hums, mulling over ways to get back at the mind control user for actually sneaking up on her.
“Did you know he was . . ?”
Absently, she nods.
The threatening undertones stewing inside your voice begin to boil over. “And you were gonna tell me . . ?”
“I did.” She ribbits, causing your eye to twitch.
”Tsu.”
“Twice, in fact.”
”TSUYU.”
Shrugging off your anger like it’s a winter coat, her mind can’t help but recall the unexpected smoothness of his speech, little as it was. Fluent, almost natural like he’d practiced his abc’s straight out the womb.
A swift glance at the forgotten essay has her downturned lips tugging even farther down as the thought continues to pester her.
“that’s not the-” you couldn’t see it through the walls of the dressing room but Shinso’s stretching smile was palpable as your voice trailed off.
“. . hol’ on, what’s that supposed to mean?”
the top isn’t even special. soft yet firm fabric that curves off the shoulders and dips into thick bell sleeves, which sit a bit too loose on the wrist; small straps lining the open back, a deep cut that shows far too much back for your liking.
“rarely do you just make a decision— and you ask for my opinion any other time, so I don’t get why this would be different?” his voice, velvet undertones and all, sounds soft behind the locked door. “plus, you’re not what I’d call a “fashionista”.”
“and you are, mister just-put-a-silver-chain-on—?“
you refuse to acknowledge the jolt that ran through your body at the sudden thud against the door. though you chortle at the small show of anger.
“jus’— let me in before I make a scene.”
“you are the scene, you sun-fried tulip,” falls off the tongue naturally. “why you wanna see it so bad, anyway? it ain’t even your style.”
he doesn’t answer this time.
of course.
you roll your eyes, looking into the mirror a final time, ultimately deciding it goes in the “no” pile.
the front falls in your hands right as your ears perk at the sound of the door handle jiggling.
the store attendants would knock or announce themselves before trying to gain entry, and you know it’s not a stranger— not with that lofty, broad-shouldered panther prowling at the door.
if those guns weren’t enough of a deterrent, that mug certainly is.
you look on through the mirror for what feels like forever, chest cinching with every turn, and in that moment you think back; unsure if you’d actually locked it or not.
you call out to him anyway. “Hitoshi?”
“I’m coming in.”
“the hell you are, nig—“ you catch yourself, sputtering at his audacity. “boy, i am changing!”
“happy for you.” light bounces off the glass and on your face once the door finally gives way to the purple haired menace.
you don’t miss the ends of his hair brushing the head of the door.
“it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” oh, you could punch him.
“that was one time, years ago and you weren’t even supposed to be there,” you whisper yell, clutching the top to your chest, close to showing your teeth. “you know how bad this looks? what about your image?”
you can already feel your brain swell, going mad as it calculates the hundreds of ways this could backfire go for either of you should someone want to get trigger happy with their camera.
the door shuts behind him with a deafening silence and unconsciously, you start to edge over to one of the more darker corners.
“you think I don’t know how to check for—“
you know your body’s changed a lot since middle school. both in ways you enjoyed and ways you haven’t. you grew to like the fat in your cheeks, the roundness of your stomach, how soft you felt.
but, brief as it was, you could say with confidence it has never received a look like that—
not from him.
“put it on.”
your nails dig into the cotton as he takes a step closer.
then another.
and another.
and another, until he stands a few inches away.
bemused with your back to the wall, you blink up at him, hyper-cognizant of the energy sparking between you.
how big he must be to block most of the light with his frame alone-
“go on,” he tilts his head as if he needs more leverage to stare you down, and it takes a great deal of restraint to steel your nerves when you see the glint in his eyes shine tenfold. “i’ll help you.”
Shinsō’s expression isn’t quite angry or happy. Not a smile or frown in sight, the closest thing being a brief twitch of the lips, perhaps a muddied mess of the two.
“my hero . . .”
you shuffle a little, snark coming out floatier than you wanted.
like starting an old car, even though it’s mere feet away, it takes awhile to reach the mirror.
your eyes can’t help but draw back to him, presence almost foreboding in the reflective glass.
there’s a nervousness to your movements, heart going close to a mile a minute, staving off the quakes as best as you could.
cat-scratched hands smooth up your arms with a purpose it seems, laboriously slow in their movements as they take in your shakiness until your wrists are fully embraced.
they pull forward, carefully revealing the bandeau you’d put on before you left the house.
opening your eyes (when had they closed?) you startle to see he’s looking dead at you, absolutely shameless in his visual exploration even as he takes the top out your grasp.
“the hell would you do without me?” it hardly comes out, it’s so low and warm.
you just stare, afraid of what’ll slip should you attempt to speak.
he slips your arms in with a delicacy you rarely see him offer to humans— a true cat person at heart— you feel like a cherished doll.
he moves from your face to your back, thankfully saying nothing about the way your spine straightens under his gaze.
you try not to dawdle on how or why he’s able to lace it up as quick as he does, a pretty easy feat once he finishes up, patting the middle of your back in an assuring manner.
still staring ahead, you watch in silence as he rests his chin on your crown.
watch him watch you.
mooring his eyes to your soul, those sturdy fingers snake from your lumbar to the fat of your waist, calluses catching every jitter. heavy breaths massage the curve of your spine and you feel blood rushing to your skull when the other set sits just below your ribs.
it’s too much.
“‘toshi?”
his nose flares, like he’s restraining himself; a hypothesis that proves true as his hands begin to knead sporadically.
your neck grows heavier and heavier, eyelids eventually following suit, until you’re falling into his chest.
“I was wrong,” you can’t tell if he’s murmuring to you or himself.
the declaration weighs heavy in the confined space, and for a moment, you wonder how none of the associates have noticed his absence.
secondhand embarrassment, tooth rotting fluff, google translated korean, cultural sacrilege in the form of disrespecting your elders probably
Aizawa Shōta believes he maintains his boundaries better than most.
He’d learned a long time ago the importance of the self, how “fragile” he was to others and their actions. And if it leaned more into isolationist territory, that was no one’s business but his own.
It was more of a coping mechanism, if nothing else.
Peace hardly comes easy to heroes like him— the ones who didn’t require a crowd to get shit done. Those ready and willing to get their hands dirty, who shiver in disgust at the blood beneath their nails but scrape it out all the same, if only to keep civilians unsullied from the grime of the earth as they guided them across a street.
So whenever it was within reach, a bonfire in a flurry of snow, he sought to cherish it with broad, frostbitten palms.
Even if it happened to be a group of children that seemed hell bent on sending him to an early grave.
“Everything packed?”
“Sensei, I’m a junior now,” the familiar whine in his protégés voice had grown weaker over the semester. This time sounding more chiding than petulant, “think you can let up on the micromanaging, yeah?”
Briefly closing his eyes, he ducks his head, amused breaths pushing a few flyaways out of his face. Too quiet for the phone to pick up.
“Sure, kid.”
When you stop calling me Sensei.
He’s come a long way. Watching the boy’s progress in real time had him sifting through a rather complex series of emotions that he still, to this day, a year after the war; wrangled with.
It was a struggle, but what else was new?
Least this one was actually welcome.
“I don’t know how Eri puts up with it. The hovering, the demands—“
The call should have ended ten minutes ago.
Normally, he’d be crouched over his laptop looking over a mountain of schoolwork, brain running on fumes as he graded and graded and graded. The kid held an “almost eerie” resemblance to him, as Hizashi loved to remind him, including his disdain for needless chitchat.
Now that he’s part of his class, the demand for individual training went down significantly, taking to “after school lessons”.
Yet here he was, almost half an hour in, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, consciously glancing at the framed photo above his hallway dresser— twenty precious grins staring back at him. Reflecting a certain softness in his beady eyes.
He huffs softly through his nose. “Not as much as you’d think.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Through his subsequent mumbled remarks, honed ears catch an uplift of noise in the background. Clicking, a bit of shuffling, as if someone just walked in on their conversation.
But the kid— junior year doesn’t sound annoyed at all. In fact, he gets louder, practically throwing his voice around without a care in the world.
So Shōta knew exactly who it was.
Thank god he had the sense to move his phone away.
Afternoon or not, it was too damn early for that level of noise.
“Ito-ya!”
Biting back a groan, Shinsō steps back from the dresser housing his phone, tossing his freshly folded hoodie into the suitcase strewn across his bed with an ignorable strength.
Prepping for the new semester was more of a hassle than he expected.
He’d been busy all week. What with hero studies, volunteering occasionally at the local animal clinic, and the frustrating practice of cultivating his time-management skills; half of his “off-time” was spent in bed or working out. Sleeping off the stress of the day, just to re-accumulate it by the end of the night. None too satisfied with his sleep, the undersides of his eyelids still dark despite his hours averaging at six.
It sucked, to put it bluntly. For a multitude of reasons he’d care not to share.
An adjustment for sure, but a necessary one so he falls back on old habits— biting his tongue, leaving his complaints to rot at the bottom of his throat. God forbid he fuck up his dream because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
Whether or not that’s actually possible is uncertain, what with him being a second year and all. To him, it didn’t matter.
He wasn’t born yesterday. Having observed the institutions of power since the moment his quirk had manifested, and it wasn’t a factor he was willing to chance.
Call him a cynic— you won’t dare call him wrong, as somehow, someway, should “they” want to, they’d surely find a way.
All they needed was a reason.
Striding over and twisting the gilded knob, he pokes his head out, ”어?”
”내— 야! 입 조심해 꼬맹이! 내 손녀가 여기 있어!”
Ashen purple looks ahead at wall, unamused. All too acquainted with his grandmother’s lack of filter and not-at-all-hidden penchant for (teasing) pissing him off.
He rolls his eyes, ”집어치워!”
She’s already yelling some choice words by the time he turns back inside, not that he’s listening.
God’s sake, she must love the sound of her own voice— that’s the most logical line of reasoning he can come up with as to why the woman nags so much. Worse than-
”Is that my cue?” Sensei’s droll timbre intones.
The teen lets out a disgusted noise. Mischief suddenly tugging at his lips as he dropped onto the edge of the mattress, next to the dwindling pile of clothes. ”I know you’re ancient but isn’t she a little old for you?”
A choked sort of noise cuts through the quiet ambiance and his grin splits his face in two.
Gross as it was, he found his grandma’s supposed “crush” on the man downright hilarious. Largely due in part to the man’s initial reaction.
Or lack thereof.
One evening the rain had grown so intensive that training was next to impossible, which typically wouldn’t be enough for Sensei to cancel. Hell, knowing him, he’d take advantage of it for another “teachable moment”.
Except with fall leering around the corner, he wouldn’t risk falling even further behind in his education all because he got the sniffles.
“Self-care” and all that.
Being in the bathroom, he wasn’t there to witness the moment personally, instead having to gather context clues based on the sight of her fanning herself on the couch, murmuring to herself in a hushed manner, his car long gone. The silence that lingered. As well as the awkward, almost shy demeanor from his teacher on the rare occasion when he dropped him off on his porch, like he didn’t know how to react.
Petty, yes, but the humiliation made his sting a bit less.
Actually shocked the hell out of him, for the simple fact that Shinsō could recall with just one hand, the amount of men he’d seen at her side— that being himself and his grandpa.
Before she divorced him anyways.
Shinsō looks toward the ceiling and sighs, eyes crinkling at the edges as he says, ”I mean, gross, but s’whatever. You’re both consenting adults, who am I to get in the way of true-“
”Pushing it.”
His smirk wanes when he hears the soft pad of feet outside. Fast and steady— on a mission.
Honest to God, that woman was stubborn as stubborn could get. Couldn’t let go of a grudge to save her life, lungs for days; he wouldn’t be shocked if she’d lied on her drivers license because her quirk couldn’t possibly be anything other than “Mule”.
Grabbing another undershirt, his back to the cracked door, years-old retorts begin shaping his tongue. More than prepared to re-engage with this foolish game of intergenerational cat-and-mouse.
He was a man of logic. Truthfully, he was.
Not strictly, though his mom didn’t have many complaints.
Age be damned, a common criticism he used to receive from teachers was in regards to his supposed “lack of interest” in the curriculum, or, more commonly, “misbehavior”.
A whole lot of words to say they couldn’t read him like most kids (more likely, they couldn’t be assed to) and he wouldn’t put up with their showboating, adultist crap quietly.
She never bought any of it. Her, nor her mother— not her boy.
Her “brilliant little iris” who, up until his first year of preschool, wouldn’t even speak to anyone unless she did it first. Tiny fists tucked into the back of her leg, scared yet curious of the unknown around him.
Yet, somehow, with family, that flies out the window and just like that, he’s ten again. Exchanging barbs with his classmates, bullies and otherwise.
The grey square is placed into the suitcase and he’s reaching for the pile again when he’s greeted with what feels like a slap to the face.
“How’s my baby~?”
That voice. All warm and sweet.
He could drown in it.
Did she mess with the thermostat? is all there is to think because, yes, Hyun Hitoshi has and absolutely would take it there, but where did this heat come from? His ears, hands, cheeks, chest, his everything; feels like he’s standing in front of an open oven.
Black sweatpants sprawl across the floor, the space between his curled fingers now glaringly empty— wide eyes boring into the comforter.
The sound of creaking wood falls deaf as that was . . new.
Stupid of him to think he’d heard it all— Toto, “Big Head”, Fivehead, Dickhead, (it’s not that big, dammit) Wise-ass, sir—
Fuck, you drove him crazy with that—
His spine twitches, a feeble attempt from his spiraling nervous system, offering just enough steam for him to try and regulate it himself.
Pushing a silent breath through his nose, he peers over his shoulder.
”What does it look like-?”
Knelt near his bed, right inside his blind spot, you burrow your smile in soft, silken patchwork— cradling the little shit that had vanished underneath his bed a few hours prior, the calico’s engine running full throttle in your lap. Propped up on your chest, bunting your face with hers and whatever quip he was about to say evaporates on the spot.
You draw back, wooden beads and golden hoops clattering in the air, staring into what feels like his soul. All he can do is watch the gears turn through the micro-expressions shuffling around your face.
Tsk.
The smack of your lips is an omen. Deafening in the sense of an impending danger, making his skin hum with anxiety.
“. . now you know good and well,”
His ears burn at your tone. The one mostly reserved for his more . . . rash escapades. Getting ahead of himself and burning through his internal reserves, allowing his ego to get the better of him. When he’d show up at your door with an awkward edge to his saunter, wincing from your touch as it agitated his bruises.
”Yo’ daddy get on my nerves, you know that?” you murmur cutely to the little traitor, all curled up in your arms like you’d never left. Her second home. “Just wanna grab’m and-“
His eye twitches. ”In my defense, she was not there before.”
”Really?” you say, huffing through your nose, “She came out to greet me.”
He blinks, ”’cause you spoil her.”
”As I should!” you proclaim, outraged at the implication. Pouting up at him with those lips, rubbing your cheek against Anko’s head. “Old baby deserves to be spoiled. Ain’t that right, babygirl?
She smothers you back with gusto while you coo, “poor lady- can’t even live out your days in peace ‘cause your daddy’s a hater-“
Even with his body threatening to overheat, a hint of a smile manages to slip through the cracks. Bashful. Enjoying the view.
Picking up his sweats, he turns his head a ways, looking at the blank space ahead as he folds and tosses it inside the suitcase.
”Whatever.”
Your voice becomes the perfect backdrop for his ears, asphyxiating his wandering thoughts. His shoulders quake silently as your rants encompass the room, as if it’s always been there.
His second home.
”Ain’t no “whatever”, I thought respecting the elderly was a key component of y’alls culture…”
It’s true that time tends to pass by faster when you’re having fun.
However, it doesn’t register just how much time has passed until you get up to use the restroom, leaving him in the wake of your presence.
Without the constant stimuli that is you, boredom quickly sets in, prompting him to look at his phone. The boy temporally looking around in confusion when his pockets turn up empty.
“The hell is— oh.”
Eyes landing on the dresser, he slides off the bed, grabbing it and turning the screen face-up— his expression coming to a halt as his brain registers the thin red bar in the corner of the call screen.
”. . . shit.”
A deep chuckle crackles through the receiver and he runs a hand across his face, groaning under his breath.
“Just shut it, alright?”
this is a part of my childhood best friend!shinsō series, so, if you’ve already seen this, no you haven’t 🚶🏽♀️
thinking of just strolling through the living room and seeing him alone on the couch, on his phone or what have you-
nothing important. just off in his own little world.
the face you make once you decide to disrupt his peace by crawling into his lap.
he doesn’t actually look up until your leg is slung around his waist, his neck damn near snapping.
the way his spine jacks up, looking all sheepish as you take your rightful spot on your ‘throne’. growing all warm in the face as you devour his soul with your inscrutable stare, looking down at him, like you couldn’t be bothered to be there. like you couldn’t feel his pulse against your thigh.
like it wasn’t your fault.
the way those little confused noises dwindle down into husky, wimpish breaths as you trail a finger down the band of his sweats. his hips bucking into it sharply, already knowing what was coming.
the way he melts into your hand when you go to cup his cheek, those tense features softening even as you directed him down to your lips; mortification muted by the low hum that thrums through his tongue and straight to his groin when he sticks it out for you to suckle on-
amandla
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origamiaround
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