#bro needed to camouflage into the background

[yaimlight]

Rating: mature

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader / Todoroki Shoto x fem!reader (set per relationship)

A/N: part of the Twos Company, Threes A Crowd series but can be read on own. Series masterlist can be found here. This is by far probably one of my favourites. I loved every minute of this and it was so much fun to work on. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

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Katsuki’s footsteps echoed around the quite halls as he slowly made his way to class. He was early. A hell of a lot earlier than he would normally be but the idiots he called friends had been extra annoying this morning and he had needed to get away from them before he blew something up. So here he was trudging his way through the empty hallways to go crash at his desk. He would have a good solid fifteen to twenty minutes before anyone else turned up so he would be able to get some studying in before anyone disturbed him.

Coming to a stop in front of the class room Katsuki grabbed the handle and yanked the door open, the thing rattling as it slid open. Inside two sets of eyes looked back at him blankly and Katsuki blanched. Aizawa was slumped back in his chair, half in his sleeping bag and his tired eyes focused on Katsuki with a sharp intensity. On his desk sat Y/N, her hands curled around the edge and legs swinging as she leant forward. Her skirt had ridden up slightly and Katsuki could see the top of her thigh, the unblemished skin standing out against the dark wood.

Katsuki snapped his eyes up from where he had been staring at her legs and back up to her face. She was smirking at him knowingly and he could feel the slight blush forming on his cheeks. Scoffing Katsuki stepped into the room, slamming the door closed behind him and made his way over to his desk, refusing to acknowledge the other two people.

He could feel their eyes on him as he dumped his bag onto his desk and dropped into his seat. He could hear her whisper something to the teacher, the low murmur of her voice grating on his nerves. This was weird. Y/N had never shown anything but contempt toward the older man and he the same to her so for them to be talking like that was odd, suspicion even and it made Katsuki feel uncomfortable, like he had walked in on something private that he wasn’t supposed to know about.

Angrily he yanked out his English text book with every intention of studying for the exam tomorrow but he couldn’t tune her out, his ears twitching as his listened to her push off their teachers desk, her booted footsteps heavy as she slowly walked up to her desk. “Morning blasty” she said cheerfully and Katsuki caught a glimpse of her hips swaying as she walked past him. Growling he refused to answer, his grip tightening on his book.

Three week, that’s all it been since the start of the school yeah and she had turned up and she had been grating on his nerves ever since. She had barley interacted with the class, choosing to ignore them and make herself scarce during free time. Some of the stupid extras had tried to befriend her to start with but she had shut them down without a second thought and they had quickly given up.

That would have been fine by him, if he could get half his stupid classmates to leave him alone he would but for some reason that Katsuki couldn’t figure out she had taken an interest in him and they often found themselves alone at the oddest times. He would say it had something to do with her quirk but no one knew what it was. None of them had seen her use it as she never turned up for practical lessons and Aizawa had refused to tell them, telling them to work it out themselves.

At the front of the class Aizawa slid down onto the floor and zipped up the rest of his sleeping bag, falling asleep quickly and leaving the two of them to their own devices. This was fine, he didn’t have to interact with her, could just ignore her like he did every other day. Turning his attention back to his book Katsuki started to read through the last chapter, his mind filling with his schoolwork and drowning everything else out. It worked for a while, the silence welcomed but she shattered it quickly.

Katsuki gritted his teeth as she began to hum, tapping along on her desk to whatever that god awful tune was. He tried to ignore it, grinding his teeth and hunching his shoulders, his grip tightening on his book to the point that he was close to ripping it in two. “Will you shut up” he growled, slamming his book down and spinning in his chair to glare at her. She was leaning on her hand, elbow resting on her desk and staring out of the window. Slowly she turned to face him, smiling widely at him as she folded her arms on top of the desk. He could see her booted feet sticking out form the side, the metal gleaming in the light.

“Aww is little old me distracting the big bad blondie” she tipped her head to the side and pouted, her voice teasing and childlike. He hated it. “Your annoying the hell out of me you little shit so shut the fuck up before I make you” he hissed, snarling at her. He probably shouldn’t be swearing so much, Aizawa likely to reprimand him for it latter but he didn’t care at this moment, too annoyed with the infuriating girl.

Her eyes seemed to flash with excitement, a wide and dangerous smirk splitting across her face. “I’ll hold you to that” she said evenly, her voices holding a dark promise to it. Katsuki swallowed, stuck in Y/Ns intense gaze. He felt like he had just been threatened somehow, like he should be worried for his life and it left him with a feeling of dread deep in his stomach. “Bakubro!”

Katsuki blinked. Y/N was looking out the window again, head resting on her hand and elbows on the table, a bored expression on her face. “There you are man. Can’t believe you ran off like that” Kirishima said happily coming over to Katsuki’s desk and slinging his arm around the blondes shoulder. Normally he would shrug the other boy of and yell at him but Katsuki was stuck, still staring at Y/N in disbelief. Had that just happened or had he imagined the whole thing?

Kirishima moved, leaning forward and blocking Katsuki’s view. “Hey, you okay bro?” He sounded concerned, frowning down at the blonde and his hold tightening on his shoulder. Katsuki jerked back, yanking his shoulder out of the other teens hold and smacked his arm away. “Of course I am shitty hair, why the hell wouldn’t I be?” Katsuki yelled angrily, glaring at the redhead. Bloody idiot, why wouldn’t Katsuki be okay? He was the god dam best in this shitty school and he did not get scared of anything, especially not of mouthy little shits who thought they were so god dammed special because her daddy was some rich fuck.

Kirishima stepped back, laughing as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “That’s cool dude, just wanted to check as you ran off so early”. Katsuki growled, turning back around in his chair and shoved his book back into his bag. The rest of the class had started to file in now, all of them loud and energetic. It didn’t take long for Kaminari, Sero and Ashido to come bouncing over to join Kirishima, the four of them crowding around Katsuki’s desk and chatting loudly about something he really couldn’t care less about. What did they even have to talk about? They literally spent nearly every waking moment together so how did they still have shit to talk about.

Shifting in his seat Katsuki chanced a glance back at Y/N. She was still staring out the window, no one having approached her but why would they? She was even less approachable than him. Sensing his eyes on her, her own flicked up instantly finding his. The sun was streaming in through the window, bathing her in a bright light that gave her an almost other worldly glow. Katsuki was suddenly struck by how beautiful she looked in that moment. She looked sad, lonely even as the rest of the class bustled around and she just keep staring out the window as if she was longing for something beyond the world around them. Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder what it was that had made her so distant and what he could do to make her smile a real genuine smile, just once. He bet she would look even more stunning than she did now.

As if she knew what he was think she broke out into a wide smirk, her eyes seeming to sparkle with knowing. Scowling at her he turned back round, sinking into his seat. Beautiful? Ha, as if. She was nothing to him, just an insignificant background character on his journey to greatness. He didn’t need anything from her, didn’t want anything either and that included a stupid smile. He was Bakugou Katsuki, future number one hero and no one was getting in his way.

“Everyone settle down” Aizawa’s sleep rough voice called from the front of the room and everyone scrambled to their seats. Sighing Katsuki slumped forward, resting his chin on his hand. Aizawa droned on about some hero fight from a few years ago that he wanted them to analyse, asking the class to try and figure out what the villains quirk was. It reminded him of what the class had been trying and failing to do with Y/N throughout the weeks, each one of them chiming in with ideas from teleportation to some form of camouflage but with nothing to go on no one could say for sure. Not that Katsuki cared, because he didn’t. He couldn’t care less about her or whatever useless quirk she had.

That didn’t stop him from stealing glimpses of her whenever he could throughout the morning, only half paying attention to his classes. Every time he looked she was always bent over her text book or papers, doing the work asked of her for once. He didn’t think he had actually ever seen her doing the work before let alone paying attention to the class. It was odd and confusing and Katsuki didn’t like it. He had been so sure about the kind of person she was, especially after that first night but this was out of character and it made him feel like the rug had been yanked out from under him.

When lunch rolled around Ashido attached herself to his arm, dragging him along behind her to the cafeteria and even though he complained the whole time he went willingly. As he was dragged from the room he took one more look at the girl. She had lent forward over her desk, head resting on her folded arms and turned towards the window. He wasn’t the only one watching her though, the half ‘n’ half bastard staring at her with a little frown as Deku jabbered away next to him. Katsuki didn’t like it and he didn’t know why.

Lunch past quickly, Katsuki ignoring his friends in favour of trying to work out what his problem was and stealing glances at the shitty candy cane. He hadn’t seen Todoroki interact with the other girl, not once but then again no one had seen him the five or six times he had spoken to her either so that didn’t mean jack. The thought of them two stumbling across one another in empty hallways and abandoned classrooms, of her pressing against the bastard as she teased and taunted him just like she did with Katsuki had him grinding his teeth and glaring, a heaviness settling in his stomach that he couldn’t begin understand.

“Man I am so pumped for this” Kirishima called happily, punching the air with his fist and smiling like an idiot. “Me to bro. I can not wait to try my new attack out on you” Kaminari jumped up onto the bench in a mock defensive pose, kicking his leg out as if he was about to attack. Groaning Katsuki yanked his own locker open, shoving his school bag and blazer inside. The changing room was buzzing with excitement as they stripped out of their school clothes and tugged on their hero costumes. It was the first time since they had started the new year that Aizawa was letting them actually practice against one another, the last few weeks full of running drills that had been as boring as hell and they were all ready for an actual chance to let lose.

“Get down from there this instant” Glasses voice echoed around the room, dunce face whining as he jumped down and went back to changing into his clothes. Katsuki was smirking, the excitement for what was to coming already getting his blood pumping. Over break he had meet up with shitty hair and the rest of his friends a few times to spar, even Deku once or twice but none of them had really been able to let go of their quirks completely and he was looking forward to really letting go.

“Hay Bakugou! You ready to get your arse kicked?” Katsuki gritted his teeth, snarling as he turned to face Kaminari. “The hell I am loser. I’m going to kick all your arses” he yelled, fists clenched at his side. Like he would lose to anyone. Laughing Kirishima slapped him on the back and Katsuki rolled his shoulder aggressively, grumbling for the other teen to get the hell off of him.

“I wonder if any of the girls have leaned any new moves were their clothes fly off”. Sero smacked the shitty little pervert round the back of the head, knocking the bubble head idiot into his locker. “Stop being such a pervert” Sero glared down at Mineta as he rubbed at his forehead. Deserved the little shit right. If he carried on the way he was Katsuki gave him a month tops once they graduated before he got arrested for sexual harassment.

Wordlessly Katsuki began to tug off his clothes, listening to the idiots behind him ramble on about new moves they had been trying to develop and the ones they knew the girls had been working on. How stupid could these people get? Telling the others their new tactics when they should be keeping it to themselves and using it to surprise their opponents and beat them into dust.

Katsuki tuned them out as the conversation turned into discussing how much hotter the girls had gotten over the break. Instead Katsuki focused on getting changed as quickly as he could so he could get out there already. He had been keyed up all day and he was looking for a reason to get rid of some of his built up frustrations. He could already feel the sweat starting to coat his palms, his skin itching with the need to just let his quirk burst free from his palms. He longed for the familiar crack and boom of the explosions that would spark to life in his hands.

He was halfway through tugging on his trousers when he stilled, his attention snapping back to the rest of the room when he heard her name. “Sure she’s pretty but her attitude kind of tanks that”. Katsuki gritted his teeth, trying not to draw attention to himself as Sato spoke. He hatted he was so interested in what they were say, hanging on with baited breath in case they said something he didn’t already know.

“Maybe that’s her thing, being all distant and mysterious to get us all talking about her. You know being a bit of a bitch to hide a soft gooey centre” Sero said thoughtfully. Katsuki turned as he yanked on his tank top on, glaring at his idiot of a friend. As far as he knew he was the only one in the class who had held any sort of conversation with Y/N since her first day when she had told Deku in no uncertain terms where they could all shove their offer of friendship and he could say that underneath the cold and distance bitchiness was as teasing, infuriating, annoying bitch who seemed to know how to get under Katsuki’s skin and inside his head.

“That’s not an actual thing. Is it?” Kaminari asked, tipping his head to the side and brows drawn in confusion. “I mean it’s what Bakugou dose”. Katsuki did actually growl at that turning his attention to Kirishima. “The hell you saying about me shitty hair” he yelled taking a step forward and pointing an accusing finger at the other teen who just laughed it off.

“I guess we will never know unless one of us actually manages to talk to her”. Sato shrugged as he spoke, turning back to his own locker to get ready for class. Letting out a huff Katsuki turned back to his own locker, pulling out his boots. He thought that would be the end of the conversation, hoped it would anyway. He didn’t want to hear about her anymore, the mere though of the girl irritating him but it seemed the grape haired pervert had other ideas.

“Todoroki’s spoke to her”. The room fell quite, all eyes turning to look at the for mentioned teen. He had frozen, hands halfway through pulling up his zipper. His back was to most of the class but from where Katsuki stood he could see the shock and worry flash across his face.

“What! When?” Kaminari exclaimed loudly, his jacket falling to the floor as he looked franticly between the candy cane and grape boy. Katsuki would like to know that to, would beat it out of the other boy if he didn’t tell him. Mineta smirked, loving the fact that he knew something no one else did. “It’s true. I saw them the other night in the hallway and they looked pretty cosy if you know what I mean”.

Katsuki was going to kill that half ‘n’ half bastard. What the hell right did he have to be sneaking around at night get cosy with his…with his…Shit why the hell was this bothering Katsuki so much? He had no right to Y/N, didn’t want jack shit to do with her in the first place. Let the bastard have her, they would be perfect together with his stoic attitude and her cold indifference. Fists clenching and snarling Katsuki dropped down onto the bench and yanked his boots on. He didn’t care, not one bit so why the hell was he getting so angry?

“Dude you’ve been holding out on us. Come on spill”. Katsuki didn’t look up as Kaminari spoke, glaring at his boots as he laced them up. He didn’t want to be here to hear this shit. “I would hardly call it a conversation, we barley exchanged words” Todoroki said in his normal bland, monotone voice and Katsuki did look up at this, narrowing his eyes at the other boy. Katsuki was calling bullshit and he didn’t understand why half ‘n’ half would lie about it.

“Do you normally let people push their chest against yours and whisper in your ear to exchange a few words” Mineta’s voice droned on and every one stopped once again. Todoroki was blushing, mix matched eyes wide and looking like a deer caught in headlights. Katsuki’s hands began to smoke, black wisps off it escaping between his fingers.

He knew what that felt like, knew the feeling of her hands curling over his shoulders as she stepped into his space, her breasts pushing against his chest as she whispered a teasing comment in his ear, her warm breath sending shivers down his spine. Katsuki clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as he forced his quirk back down. Anger, envy and resentment crashed into Katsuki, churning round in his stomach and making him feel sick.

“Dude are you banging the new chick?” Kaminari shouted in disbelief and Katsuki saw red. “I don’t think that’s really any of our business” Deku stuttered out, coming to defend the half ‘n’ half bastard who looked like he was about to pass out, all the colour draining from his stupidly angular face.

Growling Katsuki stood back up, shoving his gauntlets on as he did. He slammed his locker shut, the whole thing rattling with the force. “Who gives a shit if he’s getting his dick wet. Just hurry the fuck up and get your arses out there so I can beat them”. Katsuki snarled as he stormed over to the exit that lead onto the training field. His shoulder slamming into the shitty candy cane on the way past, the other teen letting out a grunt of pain.

Katsuki could hear the others still talking behind him, their annoying voices trailing after him. “No fair man, pretty boys like you need to leave us some girls”. “How rude”. “Someone’s extra grumpy today”. “Are you okay Todoroki-kun”. Clenching his jaw Katsuki tried to shove everything down. He didn’t need these shitty feelings. He didn’t have time for them, not if he was going to become the number one hero. What he was going to do was spend the next couple of hours beating his classmates into the dust and Y/N would be nowhere in sight to get under his skin and leave him itchy and wound tight.

He squinted as he stepped out into the sun, turning his head to try and actually see something. The girls were already out, huddled together and whispering amounts themselves. Frowning Katsuki dragged his eyes over them, clocking the nervous looks on some of their faces. That was odd, he hadn’t seen them all that worried in a while and he couldn’t think what would have them so on edge. It didn’t take long to find out though. As he got closer the sun was blocked by the high walls of the stadium they were in. Aizawa stood just a little way off of the group of girls, a clipboard in hand and looking as bored as always as he spoke to Y/N who stood next to him.

Katsuki came to slow stop next the huddle of girls, confused as to what was going on because she wasn’t supposed to be here. Y/N had on the navy and white U.A training outfit, her chunky black boots replaced by black trainers. Her face was turned up towards Aizawa, a serious look about her as she nodded along to whatever their teacher was saying. Why was she hear? She hadn’t come to a single one of these classes since she got here, not once so why the hell was she here now when all Katsuki wanted was her to be as far away from him as possible.

He could hear the rest of the guys approaching, their loud chattering dying down as they came to a stop behind him, finally noticing the girl who had been absent for the past three weeks. “You’re finally all here” Aizawa drawled, his tired eyes dragging across the huddle of students in front of him. “This week we will be looking at how to fight opponent who are completely unknown to you. It has been brought to my attention that after three weeks none of you have managed to work out what Y/Ns quirk is so she has kindly agreed to help with this week’s task”. Katsuki knew he should be thinking about strategies and technics but his mind was stuck. He was finally going to find out what her quirk was.

“You will each face Y/N one at a time with the goal of getting your opponent over the out of bounds lines. If you can work out what her quirk is you will receive top marks for today’s class, if you don’t you will have to run laps after class in full gear” Aizawa had to yell the last bit, the classes chatter getting louder with every second but Katsuki’s eyes were stuck on Y/N as she wordlessly walked out into the middle of the field. Once their she began to stretch, twisting and turning her body a she got ready for the fight coming her way.

It seemed a little unfair, all twenty of them against just her. Sure it was one at a time but it would be gruelling and there was no way she would be able to make it through all of them. That was unless she had some sort of endurance quirk that meant she could out last them all. There had to be something about her and her quirk for Aizawa to think she could stand up to them all but what? What was it that made the older man so sure she could handle that sort of exertion?

“Your names have all been picked out at random to determine in what order you will go. Mineta you will be first, the rest of you take a seat and wait your turn”. The grape haired pervert let out a surprised yelp, practically trembling in his little yellow boots. Grunting Katsuki turned, heading towards the benches that had been lined up a safe distance from the battle arena. The battle area that had been marked out wasn’t that big, probably a little smaller than the one they used for the sports festivals and they were seated close enough to that you could still hear what was being said out on the pitch.

Grunting Katsuki dropped down into the middle of one of the benches, legs splayed wide, his elbows resting on his thighs and heavy gauntlets hanging between them. He didn’t pay much attention to the others but he knew that Sero and Ashido sat on one side of him whilst Kirishima and Kaminari sat on the other side, the four of them talking excitedly over him as they tried to work out what Y/Ns quirk could possibly be. Katsuki just sat there though, watching Mineta as he hesitantly stepped into the starting circle in the middle of the pitch, eyes nervously darting around. “When you’re ready” Aizawa called and the whole class shut up, their attention snapping to the two people in the middle of the field. Katsuki held his breath, waiting to see what she did.

“Hey Mineta-kun” Y/N said all bright and cheerful, smiling down at the grape fucker like they spoke all the time. The pervert stuttered and stumbled over his words and for once looking everywhere but at the girl in front of him. She laughed nervously, rubbing at the back of her neck as a soft pink blush spread across her cheeks. “This is really embarrassing but it’s a lot hotter out here than I thought would you mind if I got rid of this before we started?” She tugged at her jacket as she spoke, looking down at Mineta with a bashful smile. She looked sweet and innocent and Katsuki knew that was utter trash. She was up to something.

Mineta’s attention snapped back to Y/N, a dopy smile on his face as he shook his head. “No that’s fine” he said excitedly, his eyes zeroing in on her chest. She mumbled a quick thanks before her hands went to the zipper. Time seemed to slow as she dragged down the zipper, still smiling sweetly as inch after inch of delicate skin was exposed. Katsuki was transfixed, watching the roll of her shoulders as she tugged the jacket down her arms and exposing the black sports bra she had on underneath. Mineta was practically drawling, eyes fixed on her breasts and Katsuki couldn’t blame him, his own eyes dragging along the outline through the workout top.

Laughing she leant forward, curling one hand over the small teens shoulder, her chest at eye level. Katsuki would swear that he pervert passed out the way his eyes rolled back but he stayed stood, supporting Y/N as she started to tug down her trousers. Someone made a chocked of squeak and Katsuki would put money on it being glasses, his delicate sensibilities being damaged by the amount of skin that was being exposed as the trousers slid over her pert arse and down unblemished thighs. She tugged them over her shoes and throw them behind her to join her abandoned top.

“Holy shit” whispered Kaminari the same time Ashido let out a low whistle. Y/N was stood in nothing but a black sports bra and matching shorts that cling to every curve and ended midway down her thigh. There was so much skin on display, more than was normally on offer when she was in her uniform and Katsuki hungrily drank it all on. Mineta seemed to have forgotten what was supposed to be happening, his hands making little grabby motions towards her and mumbling so much it would but Deku to shame but Y/N hadn’t forgotten.

She tipped her head to the side slightly, her smile twisting and eyes narrowing. Her grip tightened in the collar of his costume then in one quick move she spun round, bringing her leg up and kicking him hard in the stomach. Mineta screamed as he flew through the air, arms flailing as he crashed to the ground face first and outside of the boundary lines. Katsuki started down at the pervert dumbly for a second before dragging his eyes back to the middle of the pitch. She was stood back up, head tipped back and facing the sky but her eyes were fixed on them, a dangerous smirk on her lips. “Oh shit” Kaminari whispered, sounding equal parts amazed and scared.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at her, snarling slightly. She hadn’t used a quirk, not that he could see anyway, just pure strength. Unless that was her quirk but Katsuki refuses to believe it was that easy. No this was supposed to be hard, a challenge or otherwise Aizawa wouldn’t have set it. She wouldn’t make it that easy to spot what she was doing, trying to mask her quirk by relying on other skills but that wouldn’t be possible for long, not against people like him on half ‘n’ half, and hell half the class had quirks that could beat her down from a distance. Katsuki was excited, skin humming for his chance to get in there with her, to finally be able to wipe that smug smile of her face.

“Hagakure you’re next” Aizawa called and the girl let out a surprised squeak. Katsuki leaned forward, watching the gloves and shoes make their way onto the field. Y/N would have to use her quirk for this fight surly. The invisible girl may not be the best fighter in the class but she had the element of surprise on her side. If it was Katsuki he would let of explosion after explosion, driving the girl back until she had no choice but to step out of the ring.

“Hagakure-kun” Y/N said politely, tipping her head towards the other girl who rushed out a quick hello, a glove moving quickly through the air as she waved. Y/N smiled softly, her eyes slowly dragging from the gloves down to the shoes. “You ready?” Y/N asked seriously, rolling her shoulders and taking a defensive stance. “Sure am” Hagakure said cheerfully as she stripped off her gloves and shoes, throwing them off to the side. It was a good idea, making it almost impossible for Y/N to see where she would be attacking from.

Katsuki tried to follow Hagakure’s movements but from his spot he couldn’t see her footprints. Y/N sighed, relaxing her stance and closed her eyes. “What’s she doing?” Raccoon eyes whispered, leaning into Katsuki. “The hell if I know” he grumbled, scowling at the girl stood motionless in the middle of the field. “Maybe it’s to do with her quirk?” Discount Pikachu might have a point. Maybe it was some sort of enhance hearing, maybe sonar or something like that. It would explain why she was just stood there, leaving herself wide open for an attack.

Suddenly her eyes snapped open, her hand flying out and fingers seeming to curl around nothing. “Ahhh” Hagakure cried out as Y/N jerked her arm forward, stepping to the side and bringing her leg up to deliver a hard kick to what Katsuki assumed was the invisible girls back. A plume of dust rose up from where she staggered forward and for a moment the bottom of Hagakure’s legs were visible as the dust settled. Y/N smirked, kicking at the ground and sending up another dust cloud towards the girl.

What followed was five minutes of what looked like a one person fight as Y/N danced around the arena, ducking and weaving and avoiding every single one of Hagakure’s attacks. Katsuki was transfixed, watching Y/N dance around the other girl’s attacks. Her technique was flawless, a clear level of skill in hand to hand combat that outclassed half the class. She was precise with her movements, anticipating the other girl’s moves and getting hit in after hit, sending the other girl crashing to the dirt time and time again until she was covers in a thin layer of dust and her out line was visible.

Y/N dropped down, kicking her leg out and sweeping Hagakure’s legs out from under her and sent her tumbling face first onto the floor and even Katsuki winced at the sound of her knees smacking onto the floor. Y/N strode forward purposely and grabbed a fistful of the other girl’s hair. Hagakure cried out, her dirt covered hands going up to curl around Y/Ns wrist. She scrambled across the ground, trying not to fall as Y/N dragged her across the pitch and shoved her across the boundary lines.

Everyone was staring at the heap that was Hagakure, her knees bloody and breathing heavily. Wordlessly Y/N turned back and walked back to the middle of the pitch, grabbing the other girl’s gloves and shoes. By the time she got back Hagakure hadn’t moved and no one had gone to help her, everyone still just staring at her. That had been brutal, unnecessarily so but Katsuki assumed that had been the point. Mineta had been a tease and Hagakure had been a warning to all those who were yet to come. Katsuki clenched his fists, already thinking up strategy’s and counter attacks, ways to beat the girl down but he still had no clue what her quirk was and that would be a disadvantage. He would just have to not give her an opening, blast her out of the arena before she got a chance to attack.

Sighing Y/N sank to her knees, gently lifting Hagakure’s leg into her lap. She brushed some of the dust off the other girl’s foot before slipping her trainer back on. Y/N was being so gentle with Hagakure, a complete contrast to the brutal beating she just given the other girl. Katsuki scrunched up his face. What was she doing wasting time like this? The stupid girl could get her own damned self dressed. Katsuki was itching for a chance to fight Y/N and this was just waiting his time.

“You did really well out their Hagakure -kun. Your technique is impressive though I would suggest working on your defence but I would be glad to help you with that if you liked” Y/N said softly, smiling gently up at the other girl as she pulled on her other shoe and laced it up. Katsuki started at her in disbelief. What the hell was going on here? Y/N had spent three weeks avoiding everyone and refusing Katsuki every time he tried get her to spar with him yet here she was, suddenly talking to these extras like she cared about them and offering out her time. What the hell made Hagakure so special that Y/N was willing to train with her and not him?

“I, yeah. That would be great” Y/N smiles warmly at Hagakure’s whispered reply and pushed herself back up onto her feet. Y/N held out her hand for the other girl to take and helped pull her to her feet. “Enhanced hearing” Hagakure rushes out, Y/Ns eyes widen slightly in surprise. Katsuki held his breath, the rest of the class seeming to do the same. Huffing out a small laugh, Y/N turned to look up at Aizawa who had come over to stand next to them. Everyone turned their attention to the teacher, sitting up straighter and waiting to see what he would say. “Good effort though we will need to work on your tactics. Go get your knees sorted and then I want you back here for your laps”. Everyone groaned and Katsuki slumped back in his seat. There went that idea.

“Better luck next time” Y/N called over her shoulder as she went back to the middle of the pitch, smiling widely and waving at them. Katsuki was once again struck by how beautiful she was, the sunlight streaming down on her, knees covered in dirt and cheeks slightly flushed. He wondered if she would still look as beautiful after he had beaten her. “Aoyama, go”. Katsuki groaned annoyed that he was still being made to wait for his chance to knock the smug little shit off her pedestal.

What followed was over an hour of Y/N completely destroying the class. She was polite to all of them, making sure that they were ready and on occasion exchanging a few words about their level of skill but each fight always ended the same. Katsuki tried to keep track of everything so was doing but Y/N adapted and changed her fighting style depending on who she was facing. Aoyama had been easy for her to defeat, taking no more than five minutes but others like glasses and ponytail were harder, taking longer for her to force over the pitch boundary lines but in the end she did, offering each person some form of constructive criticism whilst gushing about their skills.

Each one tried to guess what quirk she had been using, throwing out suggestions like super strength, foresight, teleportation and even mind control but Aizawa shot them all down, Y/N laughing off anyone’s attempts to find out how she had beat them. Katsuki had listened to every suggestion, scoffing at some of the more idiotic ideas but seriously considering others but every time they turned out to be wrong he grew more and more frustrated to the point he was almost convinced that she didn’t even have a quirk and this was just sort of sick joke Aizawa was pulling on them.

Groaning Katsuki narrowed his eyes, watching as she effortlessly dodged Kaminari’s new attack, already starting to move out the way before he had even finished swinging his arm down. “She’s been watching us” Katsuki growled as realisation finally dawned on him. “What do you mean watching us?” Ashido said, sounding a little worried. Katsuki didn’t take his eyes off the pairs as Y/N counters Kaminari’s attack and forced him back towards the boundary lines. “Dunce face has only practiced that attack once since we have been back and that was last week during our endurance training but she knew exactly what was coming and how to avoid it. She wouldn’t know how to do that unless she had been watching us practice”. Katsuki growled the last words, angry that he hadn’t realised it sooner.

Of course she would be observing them, she seemed like the creepy type to lurk in the shadows and watch their practices like a god damned stalker. That meant she had yet another advantage over them, knew more about how they fought whilst they only knew what they had seen today. He had half formed assumptions about her style that she kept knocking down and preventing him from coming up with a solid plan and it was beginning to piss him off.

Y/N slammed her elbow into Kaminari’s chest casing him to stumble back, falling over his feet and crashing to the ground, outside of the boundary lines. “Ow” he whined, rubbing at his chest. Y/N helped pull him up, complimenting his moves and gushing about his quirk, the idiot smiling bashfully. Grunting Katsuki turned away, losing interest in their conversation. Kaminari marked number seventeen leaving just Katsuki, Deku and the half ‘n’ half bastard left and Katsuki was beginning to suspect there hadn’t been anything random about the order they had gone in because what were the chances that the top three in the class would be left till last.

At the moment his best strategy was to just go at her, delivering hit after hit in quick succession and not giving her a chance to counter or dodge, making sure to keep her as far away from him as possible. “Man that sucked” Kaminari whined as he dropped back down into his space, leaning into Kirishima who wrapped an arm around him. “At least you’re lasted longer than Sero did” Ashido leant round Katsuki to pat the other boy on the leg whilst soy sauce let out an indigent ‘hey’. Ashido whipped back round, folding her arms across her chest and levelling the other boy with a hard look. “Well it’s true”. Sero huffed mouth opening to protest but Katsuki cut him off, turning to glare at him. “What idiot gets stuck in their own tape” he barked. Sero frowned, slumping back into his seat. “I told you I don’t know how it happened” he grumbled, clearly sulking. “That just makes it worse dumb arse” Katsuki yelled, only just resisting the urge to smack the other teen round the head. They were in their final year, so close to stepping out into the world as fully fledged heroes and the idiot was still making mistakes that a preschool would do, he was lucky Y/N had just rolled him out of the pitch and not kicked him all the way there like Katsuki would have.

“Alright” Aizawa calls and Katsuki turns to look at the teacher, holding his breath in anticipation. “Todoroki you’re up”. Katsuki groaned, slumping back and tipping his head back to look up at the sky. God damned half ‘n’ half. Why did he get to go first? He probably knew what her quirk was anyway, considering how they had been all over each other, probably had even been sparing together in secret. Katsuki knew that he was probably blowing this all out of proportion, he only had what the perverted little grape had said and Katsuki had been in similar situations with Y/N himself over the last few weeks but he was angry that she had been sneaking around with the shitty candy cane at the same time.

Groaning Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut. No he wasn’t angry she was sneaking around with the other teen, he was angry that she thought she could go around playing games with him, trying to rile him up and get under his skin. Well he wasn’t going to let her. He would go out there a beat her into dust. As much as Katsuki hated to admit it half ‘n’ half was a good fighter, a good opponent and one of the closest to Katsuki’s level. Katsuki would be able to learn a lot from their fight and use it to his advantage. He hoped she kicked his area though, it would be good to see the pompous prat get knocked down a peg or two.

“Well hello handsome”. Katsuki’s head jerked back down as Y/N practically purred her greeting. Distantly he heard Mineta yell ‘I told you so’ but Katsuki was too focused on the other two. Todoroki was scowling at her as he took up his fighting stance, not answering Y/N. She smirked widely, eyes gleaming with what Katsuki thought was excitement and took up her own starting position. “Show me what you’ve got hot stuff”. She winked at half ‘n’ half and the teen actually sneered at her.

He lunged forward, throwing an arm up and sending a sheet of ice barrelling towards Y/N but for once he wasn’t quick enough, the girl dodging just in the nick of time. “You’re going to have to do better than that” she teased, grinning like a mad man. Half ‘n’ half growled at her before launching another attack.

Their fight was fast paced and full on, Todoroki sending up walls of ice and flames. Katsuki was having a hard time following the action, all the ice and Y/Ns quick movements proving difficult to focus on. It was annoying, preventing him from getting a good idea of what her quirk was though Katsuki was sure that she was getting faster, dodging the other teen’s attacks with relative ease. Something that was clearly annoying the candy cane.

She managed to dodge yet another attack, missing both a sheet of ice and wall of flames and finally getting in close to the boy but just as she was about to reach out for him Todoroki threw out his arm. She knocked it out of her way and a sheet of ice shoot up in front of the watching class, blocking them from view. “Fuck” Katsuki cursed, glaring at the thick ice. He couldn’t see anything, not even an outline.

“Hey! Ear Cord” he yelled, leaning around his friends to get the girls attention. She rolled her eyes at him, huffing out an annoyed sight. “It’s Earphone Jack” she grumbled but Katsuki ignored her. He knew what her hero name was, he didn’t need the reminder. “Make yourself useful and tell me what they’re saying” he demanded. She narrowed her eyes at him, looking like she was going to tell him no but the whole class was looking expectantly at her, round face nodding enthusiastically. With a groan she sent here ear cords into the ground and everyone fell silent.

For what seemed like the longest minutes there was nothing. No sound from the other side of the ice, no sound from the waiting class, just Jiro frowning. “Well” Katsuki growled, getting impatient with the lack of information. “Will you shut up” she hissed and Katsuki growled. How dare she talk to him like that. Getting up from his spot Katsuki took a step towards her. “You wonna go you lit...” Katsuki stopped midway through his threat as Jiro’s eyes widened, her mouth hanging open in shock as she blushed a deep read. Quickly she retracted her cords and sunk back in an attempt to hide herself behind ponytail.

“What?” he barked taking another step forward. She had heard something and Katsuki wanted to know what. She made some sort of wired choked of whine, shaking her head quickly. “It was nothing” she rushed out refusing to meet Katsuki’s eyes. Growling he took another step forward until he was in front of her. “Tell me” he growled, looming over the girl, fists clenched and smoking. “Bakugou-kun I really don’t think...” ponytail started to say, wrapping her arms around the other girl and pulling her into her chest but Katsuki cut her off, not even bothering to look at her. “Shut up. Tell me what you heard” his voice was low and menacing as he spoke and he was on the edge of threatening her to talk. He had to know what was going on, had to know what the bastard was doing so he could make sure he didn’t make the same mistakes. It definitely wasn’t because he didn’t like not being able to see what they were doing, not because he was angry that Y/N had called him handsome.

Jiro sighed, he blush still going strong but she seemed ready to talk. “She asked him if his quirk...” she was cut off by a loud bang as something, or more likely someone collided with the wall of ice, cracks creaking as they spread across the sheet. The whole class jumped, a few of the girls and dunce face gasping but not Katsuki. He turned towards the sheet of ice squinting, the dark out line of something just visible as they moved on the other side.

The thud came again, the ice cracking even more. What the hell were they doing? Katsuki could see them moving but couldn’t tell who was who, just vague shapes merging into one another as they moved around one another. Growling he clenched his fists, tempted to blow up the stupid wall just so he could see. He didn’t like not knowing what Y/N was doing with the other teen, not after finding out that they had been sneaking around together behind his back.

Katsuki jerked back at the thought, his eyes widening in surprise. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was acting like some jealous boyfriend and that was not what they were, not even close to it. She was a brat, a pain in his arse who constantly went out of her way to irritate him. He didn’t like her enough to call her an acquaintance let alone his girlfriend. He needed to get it together, start acting like himself and stop worrying about Y/N and the candy cane. It had nothing to do with him and he didn’t care what they were doing, he would beat her all on his own, they’d see.

There was a loud crash, the ice finally breaking as someone was thrown against it yet again. They came tumbling through, rolling across the dirt and coming to a stop just an arm’s length away from the boundary lines. Katsuki looked down at Y/N as she pushed herself up onto her knees. He had hit her, the shitty candy cane the first out of the glass to get her on the ground and that close to the boundary lines. Not possible, no way. She was supposed to beat this joker into the ground and move on. Katsuki was the only one in this class with the skill and power to defeat her, she was only supposed to bend to his will not the half ‘n’ half bastards.

Y/N rubbed a hand over her bloody lip, red smearing across the back of her hand. She let out a small huff of laughter, turning to face Todoroki with a wide smile. He was stood not far off, jumpsuit ripped in a few places and breathing heavily and sweating, clearly the excessive use of both his quirks starting to take its toll, but Y/N hardly had a flush to her skin, wasn’t even breathing that differently than normal. If it wasn’t for the small cut you probably wouldn’t even know she had been fighting for the last twenty minutes.

Pushing herself back onto her feet she glanced back toward the other students, her eyes almost instantly finding Katsuki’s. He felt her eyes dragging over him like a caress, his skin tingling beneath his clothes. She looked at him through hooded eyes and smirked, her tongue poking out to run across her split lip. He swallowed, eyes transfixed on the action hardly even noticing the wink she aimed at him before spinning on her heels and running full force towards Todoroki.

Wordlessly Katsuki shuffled back, dropping down into his seat. “You okay?” Katsuki grunted in reply to Kirishima, his eyes still focused on the couple out on the field. Even though he was watching he didn’t really see the rest of their fight, his mind stuck on the movement of her tongue and the hungry look in her eyes. He felt hot, hotter than normal and he could feel the faint hum of arousal running through his veins. He wanted to see that look again, preferably from above whilst she lead under him. He bet she would look good, even better if she ditched her clothes.

“Holly shit” Kaminari whispered, hand smacking against Katsuki’s chest. “Did you see that?” he said excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat. Blinking a few times to clear his mind, Katsuki slowly looked down at the hand that was gently smacking him in the chest. “Get the hell off me dunce face” Katsuki growled and instantly the other boy was snatching his hand back, laughing nervously. “Sorry man just I can’t believe it ended so suddenly. I really thought Todoroki was going to win”. Katsuki’s head snapped back, eyes wide and searching as Pikachu’s words sunk in.

Half ‘n’ half stood just outside the out of bounds lines, fists clenched and frowning at Y/N who was laughing nervously and very clearly still inside the pitch. When had that happened? How had that happened? How had Katsuki completely missed the entire last part of their match? Y/N lifted her arms above her head, lacing her fingers together and stretched. She moaned loudly, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting slightly. Katsuki’s eyes fell to her naked stomach, watching as her back arched and muscles rippled with the strain. He wondered if that was what she would look like under him, moaning and gasping, arching up for more.

Groaning he slumped forward, hiding his face in his hands. That was why he hadn’t seen how she had gotten the bastard across the boundary line, too absorbed in fantasies that he had no business getting lost in. What was wrong with him? Ever since that first night he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, about her and it was driving him crazy.

Sure over the years he had thought girls were attractive, hell he though half the girls in the class were pretty hot and he was a healthy teenage boy so he was no stranger to the pleasure his own hand could bring but never had he been so fixated on one girl that he was almost constantly thinking about her to the point he was barley focussing in classes. He had a reputation to uphold, and image to protect and he couldn’t afford to be getting distracted by a pretty smile, firm arse and legs that he wanted wrapped around him as he held her up against a wall whilst he grinded against her.

Growling he gripped at his hair, tugging at the strands. He need to stop this. He was too close to finally becoming a pro to throw all his hard work away for some piece of arse, even if the body attached to said arse happened to be smart, funny and skilled. He just needed to get her out of his system and their fight would hopefully go a long way to fixing that. When he undoubtedly beat her she would scurry off to lick her wounds and he would be left alone.

“Bakugou, let’s go” Aizawa called and Katsuki’s head shot up, looking at his teacher with confusion. Looking rather unimpressed the older man jerked his head towards the filled and Katsuki turned to see what he was talking about. Y/N was stood back in the middle of the pitch, looking at him expectantly. Katsuki frowned, when had the shitty candy cane left the field? Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes as she made a come here motion with both her hands. “Well? You coming or what blondie?” she called and Katsuki jerked back to reality.

Growling Katsuki jerked up and stormed across the field, hands clenched and snarling. Vaguely he was aware of Sero saying ‘this is going to be good’ behind him and the others agreeing with him but he was too focused to let their praise really sink in and boost his already sky high confidence.

He came to a stop in front of her, snarling as he got into position. “Finally decided to join me then. Thought you were going to chicken out” she teased. Katsuki growled, fists clenching as he took a threatening step forward. “Ha! Like hell I would. Your perky arse is mine” he yelled, confident in his ability to finally be the one to push her across the boundary lines.

Y/Ns eyes widened slightly, a look of surprise on her face. It was then when Katsuki realised what he had said, his own eyes widening and a slight blush spreading across his cheeks. She smiled widely, eyes gleaming with amusement. Shit he hadn’t meant to say that, couldn’t understand why he had said it. Now she would know he had been staring at her arse, every time she bent over, when she walked in front of him, hell even when she was just stood still.

“If you want it that bad all you have to do was ask” she winked at him, dragging her tongue over her lips then sucking the edge in between her teeth and biting down on it. Shit he didn’t know where to look, what to say. His mind was stuck somewhere between watching her mouth and imagining her pulling the same face as he gripped her arse tightly and she bounced on top of him. Shit, this wasn’t the time for that. He couldn’t get hard now, not in front of her, not with the whole class there anyway.

As if sensing his embarrassment her smirk fell into a gentle smile. “Oh” she exclaimed, bouncing excitedly on her toes. “Thanks for dinner last night” she said happily, head adorably tilting to the side. Katsuki clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing and growled. “Stop eating my god damned food” he yelled angrily. Ever since that first night she had been sneaking his food out of the fridge. He had only caught her that first time but he knew it was her, Y/N never hiding the fact and making sure he knew how much she enjoyed it.

“But it tastes soooo good and you keep leaving it right there. How’s a girl to resist such temptation?” she looked so sweet, so innocent with bright eyes and an even brighter smile but the way she spoke, her tone low and teasing with just the hint of something darker, more carnal lurking underneath. Katsuki wanted to hear more of it, wanted her to whisper in his ear as she pushed up against him. “God damned suffer for all I care, just keep your thieving hands off my food”. She laughed, waving his angry words off like it was nothing and Katsuki snarled, bearing his teeth at her. “Enough bullshit! Fucking fight me already” he yelled, taking a step forward and palms sparking in his anger.

Huffing her smile fell, levelling him with a bored and unimpressed look. “Fine, have it your way blondie. Just try not to disappoint me”. As soon as she finished talking she lunged for him. Katsuki barley had time to dodge to the side, only just avoiding the punch aimed right at his face. She didn’t give him time to regain his footing, spinning round and coming for him once again.

She was quick, quicker than he had thought and stupidly light on her feet. She kept getting in close, nocking his arms away every time he tried to lift them to get a shot in, sending his explosions in the opposite directions. They dodged and weaved around one another, each one avoiding the others attacks. He wasn’t getting a hit in, couldn’t even get his hands anywhere near her to blast her back, if he didn’t do something soon he would never get an opening.

“Is that all you’ve got? How pathetic”. She sounded angry as she brought a knee up aiming for his stomach, at the same time she threw a punch, aiming for his head. He couldn’t deflect both, had to make a choice and fast. Throwing an arm up he blocked the punch, trying to bring his other arm round to block her leg but her cold fingers wrapping around his arm and holding it still. He grunted as her knee connected with his stomach, feeling like a rock was being shoved into him.

Growling he opened his palm, twisting it towards her and let off a large explosion. She let go of him, jumping back in an attempt to avoid his attack but he had been too close to miss. He smiled in triumph, knowing he had finally got a hit in along her side but the smile fell quickly as he caught sight of her. There was no mark, not even the bright pink flush of her skin getting hot. “What the hell” he whispered, the disbelief clear in his voice. How? How had she avoided his attack like that? Sure it hadn’t been that strong of an attack as he had only wanted to get her out of his space so he could do some real damage but still, there should still have been some sort of evidence of it left behind.

“Now that’s more like it” she yelled, her eyes bright with excitement. Katsuki took a step back, eyes wide as he took in the girl before him. She looked unhinged, smile wide and her hair a mess, just like a mad women and Katsuki felt like he was about to get ripped apart. “Give me everything you’ve got” she laughed as she darted forward, heading straight for him.

Growling Katsuki lifted he hands setting of explosion after explosion in an attempt to keep her back and for the most part it worked, keeping her away from him but he still wasn’t landing any hits, Y/N dodging every single one like they were nothing. She kept barrelling forward not caring about the possible damage that could befall her. As he let of a particularly large explosion his theory was conformed.

In two quick moves she was leaping through his attack, using the ground that was ripped free by the explosion as stepping stones and lunged at him. Katsuki quickly moved to the side, watching as she hit the ground rolling and sprung to her feet. The ends of her hair were singed, smudges of dirt and ash marring her flawless skin but other than that there was no mark of what she had just gone through, quite literally. That had to be it, that had to be her quirk. She could heal, that’s why she didn’t care about getting hurt and that made her dangerous.

She turned, making another dash for him and this time Katsuki didn’t hesitate. She had to have a limit to the healing and he would just have to keep pushing until she couldn’t keep it up any more. “Aghhhh” he cried running straight at her, using his quirk to propel him into the air at the last moment. He sawed above her, using an explosion to change the direction he was facing whilst bringing his other hand round and letting off another explosion at the back of her head. Y/N barley twisted away in time, avoiding the attack but Katsuki could see the way his quirk light up her eyes, the bright glow making them shine and it was stunning.

She swung round, grabbing his arm with cold hands and yanked him forward, using his own momentum to swing herself round and deliver a hard kick to the bottom oh his back. He cried out at the sudden sting of pain that shot up his back, stumbling forward. He quickly righted himself, bring his leg up as he spun round but she was ready for him, arms coming up to block his attack but he used her distraction to his advantage, bringing both hands up and aiming for her face. She leant back, tumbling back and Katsuki thought he had her but her arms went behind her and she swung her legs up, kicking his arms away and only just missing his face as she flipped backwards.

She flipped back a few times, putting some distance between them. When she came to stop she was crouched down low, one leg bent and the other outstretched to the side, a hand flat on the floor to keep her balanced. She was still smirking at him, her eyes dark almost black and despite everything Katsuki could feel his own smirk tugging at his lips. His heart was racing, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin and filling his gloves. He was having fun sparing for the first time in a long time and even though he wanted to win he didn’t want it over with just yet.

Laughing he started to run towards her, hands behind him and as he jumped he pushed himself forward with a few quick explosions. She pushed herself forward, her own laughter loud and echoing as she raced towards him. They met in a clash of fists and the loud booming bang of his quirk going off. They exchanged blows each of them getting in hits as they moved around the pitch. Dust and debris filled the air around them as he let of one explosion after another. Y/N used it to her advantage, using the chunks of ground to give height to her attacks.

Katsuki didn’t know how long they had been at it but he was starting to hurt, every time her punches and kicks made contact feeling like he was being hit by a brick wall and every time he managed to get a physical attack in it felt like he was hitting stone. It reminded him of fighting shitty hair, the way his body would harden and make it feel like his bones were going to crack every time he got a hit in.

Y/N leapt at him, spring boarding off a chunk of pitch that he had just sent flying her way. He lifted his right arm, palm opened wide and with a clear shot at her exposed stomach. It happened quickly, quicker than he could react to, his eyes widening as she sailed through the air. Her hands went to his gauntlet, forcing his hand down towards the ground as he let off his explosion. The attack gave her the momentum she needed and she flipped over his head and twisting in mid-air. Her knees connected with his back and forced him forward. Katsuki went down hard, crashing to the ground with a loud oomph.

She stayed on top of him, her legs on either side off him and sitting on his lower back. She had gotten one of his arms twisted behind his back, hand bent to force his palm against his side. The other hand she had pinned by his head, palm practically pushed against it. He was trapped, no way to use his quirk to get out of her hold without hurting himself.

Growling he turned his head to the side, glaring out across the pitch. It was destroyed, chunks missing in places and the rubble scattered across the entire arena. His class mates stared back at him, some smug and some in shock. Dunce face was leant forward, clinging onto Kirishima with a scared look on his face. His eyes dragged down the line, refusing to make eye contact until he got to Deku and the half ‘n’ half bastard. Deku looked worried, eyes wide and pleading as he clung onto the other teen, leaning forward so much that it looked like he would tumble to the ground. Half ‘n’ half was frowning, staring intently at Katsuki with a little furrow between his brows.

Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. He didn’t need their pity, didn’t need to see those stupid looks on their faces. Y/N shifted, leaning forward until her lips were next to his ear. Suddenly Katsuki was hyper aware of everywhere she was touching him, her bare arm resting against his outstretched one and her chest pressed tightly against his back and his arm digging into her stomach.

His eyes snapped open, gasping as she dragged her cold tongue along his cheek. “Ummm always so sweet” she moaned into his ear and Katsuki shivered. He should feel disgusted but some when in the last three weeks he had gotten used to it, come to expect it from her and every time they met he would be waiting for it with a mix of excitement and dread. “Get the fuck off me brat” he growled, trying to buck her off him but all it did was get her to press down harder against him. “Shame about the sour attitude” she grumbled.

“Get off” he snarled, trying to yank his arm down and out of her cold grip. She grabbed his chin with her free hand and forced his head to the side so he could look at her. “Make me” she snapped, her grip tightening to the point of being painful. He snarled, red eyes narrowed and full of anger. “You were doing so well but this is just pathetic. I thought you were supposed to be one of the top three, one of the best but it seems I was wrong”. She sounded upset, pouting at him like she had just been denied her favourite toy.

Growling Katsuki snapped at her, jerking his head back slightly to free himself of her cold hands. Seriously, why the hell was she so cold? He was getting goosebumps, his body cooling to the point he wasn’t able to produce sweat and that was not acceptable. “Like hell. I’m the god damned best here and I’m going to be number one”. He watched as a smile spread across her pink lips, the cut that candy cane had given her now completely gone. “Then prove it. Show me how much you want it hero”. Katsuki bristled at the way she said hero, that one word coming across mocking and full of distain.

What was her issue? She was in a school for heroes, a school where she would learn to become one yet Katsuki got the feeling that she didn’t really care all that much for what they were doing here. So why was she even here? Before he could ask she leant forward even more until their faces were just inches from one another. “Come on sparks, give it to me. Don’t hold back, I can take everything you can give me”. Her voice was low, only loud enough for him to hear and dripping with innuendo that had Katsuki’s mind racing with all the other situations she could be whispering those words to him.

What was wrong with him today? Never had he been this distracted before, never been this interested in someone before and at this rate he was going to combust from the need to get his hands on her. “Shut up” he growled, annoyed at his own inability to get her out of his head. He had to focus, had to get her off him so he could blast her across the pitch and be done with this shitty fight.

“I thought you were going to make me”. She laughed at the blush that he could feel spreading across his cheeks as she reminded him of the threat he had made earlier that morning. “How about a little motivation to get your head back in the game hum?” As she spoke she shifted, pressing her crotch against his arse. Katsuki sucked in a breath, once again being made aware of how close they were. He chanced another glance at his friends, their worry gone and replaced with amusement and confusion. They had been here to long, Katsuki not doing anything to get the girl off of him.

“If you win I’ll suck your dick” she whispered. Katsuki’s eyes shot open, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline as he choked on air. He could feel his dick twitch with interest, his breathing picking up and eyes stuck on her mouth as her tongue poked out to run across her lips. “What do you say hero? You beat my arse and I’ll let you own my mouth”. He actually whimpered at her words, already imaging what it would feel like. She hummed, leaning in and Katsuki was sure she was going to kiss him and he held his breath in anticipation of what was to come, forgetting where they were. Instead she turned at the last moment, ducking her head down and licked along his neck, humming as she did so. “I wonder if you’ll taste just as sweet there as you do here” she mumbled against the sensitive spot under his jaw.

Katsuki didn’t thinking, twisting the arm he had behind his back so he could press his palm against her naked thigh. His side stung as he let off a rather large explosion that was risky to use so close to his own body but it accomplished what he had been after.

With a surprised cry the girl jumped back, leaping away from Katsuki with quick agile movements. Katsuki quickly scrambled to his feet and turned on the other girl, charging towards her with an angry cry. He was angry with her for trying to distract him with something he knew he wanted and angry for himself for falling for her dirty tricks because no one would offer that kind of thing out like it was nothing and especially to someone who they didn’t even know.

Kicks and punches were thrown, explosions raining down on them as Katsuki pursued the girl with a single minded determination. His anger spurred him on, driving him to be a little more reckless than he probably should have been but he had stopped caring. He had a single minded determination to beat her and he wouldn’t give up until he was the one standing victorious.

She leapt back as Katsuki let off another attack, the blow grazing her stomach and making the skin flush red for just a few seconds. Laughing she pushed a few stray strands of hair back from where they had stuck to her forehead as she sweated. That struck Katsuki as strange, considering how cold she had been when pressed against him but now she was flushed red, sweat dripping down her brow.

“That one almost hurt but still not quite good enough blondie” she said smiling. Sighing she rolled her shoulders and head, stretching her arms out in front of her. “You know when all this is over I will be stood right here and you will be on your knees”. She said it so matter-of-factly that Katsuki almost believed her but he wouldn’t let that happen. “Like hell you would ever get me on my knees” Katsuki yelled, only realising his mistake when she winked at him. “Oh I don’t know, I can think of a few reasons why you would be”.

To hide his embarrassment Katsuki lunged for her, palms sparking as he grabbed for her. Y/N spun out of his way, effortlessly knocking his hand away as she swung her elbow up and smacked it into his jaw. Katsuki grunted as his head snapped to the side, a pain like an electric shock but ten times worse shot through his jaw and rattled through his teeth.

He twisted his arm, grabbing at her and spun on his feet, throwing her away from him. She went with it, rolling gracefully across the ground and spring to her feet. She didn’t even hesitate, running straight for Katsuki and he did the only thing he could think off. He lifted his arm, palm flat and facing towards her, sparking with his quirk. He waited until she was close to easily change direction, leaping through the air towards him and only then did he pulled the pin out of his gauntlet.

The explosion that ripped from him was large and devastating, ripping the ground to shreds but something wasn’t right. He lost sight of Y/N amongst the smoke and dust but he could have sworn he saw a shadow past by him in a blurry flash and then there was a loud bang from behind him, just seconds after his own shot went off. A burning pain shot through him as he was blasted forward, flying through the air at an alarmingly quick rate.

Using his quirk Katsuki slowed himself down, dropping back down to the ground and landing shakily on his feet. Growling he spun round, glaring back in the direction he had come from. That had been his quirk, his explosion that had sent him hurtling across the pitch but that couldn’t be possible, he had been aiming forward there shouldn’t have been any way for it to have come from behind. He couldn’t wrap his mind round what had happened, how he had ended up so far away from where he had started.

As the smoke and dust cleared he caught sight of Y/N stood motionless in the middle of the field, not a scratch on her. Growling he went to step forward, ready to end this once and for all. He didn’t know what had happened or how she had managed to avoid an attack like that but he wouldn’t let it happen again. “Bakugou that’s enough, take your seat”. Katsuki stopped, confused as to why he was being made to stop when they were both still standing.

Y/Ns shoulders relaxed, a wide and smug smile on her lips as she pointed towards her feet. Frowning Katsuki looked down, sucking in a breath as he saw where he was stood. The boundary line was just in front of him, a smudged mess but still clear as day. Katsuki dropped to his knees, defeated and full of disbelief. How? How had this happened? He hadn’t lost a fight in almost a year, he was the best after all and the best didn’t lose but somehow she had bested him. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“To bad, so sad, better luck next time” Y/N sing songed, shrugging her shoulders as if it was no big deal. Katsuki couldn’t do anything but look at the girl in a daze, struggling to understand how he had lost. “Come on man” Kirishima mumbled, slipping his arm around Katsuki and hauling him to his feet. He grunted as his friend dragged him back to his seat and he dropped down into it with a huff. “That sucks dude but that was one hell of a fight” Sero said, leaning round Ashido to pat him on the back. “Seems that perky arse was harder to get than you thought” Ashido giggled but Katsuki didn’t hear her, his mind still stuck as he went over their fight again and again, trying to work out where he had gone wrong.

“Well if it isn’t the leader of the welcome committee, ready to get your arse handed to you?” At Y/Ns teasing voice Katsuki looked up, finding Deku stood in the middle of the filed looking at her with a frown. He stood tall, head held high with a look of determination about him. “I know what your quirk is” he yelled and everyone seemed to suck in a breath, waiting for the green haired boy to answer.

Y/N laughed gently, running a hand through her hair and Katsuki lent forward as he waited to hear what the nerd had to say. The kid was smart and way to observant for his own good and Katsuki wouldn’t put it past him to have figured it out just like he had. Y/N shrugged, smiling at the green haired boy in amusement. “I knew you would, that’s why I saved you till last”.

[indornaga]

indoraptor speculations

figured I should start putting down my personal findings on the indoraptor in one place, and while most of them are about speculations of the canon one, because i’m noncanon it’s really only a jumping off point, a reference for me--but at the end of the day i’m an indoraptor, and those that came before me still influence what i am.

cut for length

re "watching" (listening for background noise) to a jp youtuber and the first video on the playlist is a speculation of what the Indoraptor is, having come out before JW2. he says that if the indom had an emphasis on the rex dna for size and power, then speculatively the indo would have an emphasis on the raptor for intelligence and quickness.. now, taking into account the indo from JW2 is a prototype, there werent a lot of opportunities presented for the indo to, if it had it, display a high level of intelligence.

if it had raptor, or beyond, level intelligence, we dont get to see it other than it using a raptor handle to open maize's balcony door--but we've seen raptors use that level of intelligence and greater. was it, because it was a prototype, far less intelligent because of the balance of dna in it's genome? imo it shouldnt have. the indominus rex was extremely intelligent--it figured out it had camouflaging abilities, baited a trap, and used a power it should never have been able to know how to use because they didnt feed it live bait thus never naturally learned to hunt for gods sake. the indoraptor, being MORE raptor than the indominus, should have had far higher intelligence than it's predecessor.

could it be the indo was, developmentally and medically speaking, mentally retarded because of the way it was kept? in a tiny cage with no social, parasocial, or enrichment activities? if we take into account a deleted scene where the indo breaks the lightbulb in its cage and subsequently kills the maintenance worker that goes into it's cage to fix it, had it been in the movie that could very well have developed how much we know about the indo's intelligence! but instead we're left with a theme park monster that destroys everything in it's path because violence is what we as the viewer is all it is assumed to know.

it could very well have been that it was of low intelligence because it IS a prototype. something in it's genome could've been fucky. we know it can be ""trained"" for lack of a better term for being inflicted with a violent pavlovian response. ((it's hinted and speculated that the indo was TRAINED to respond to the ultrasonic targeting system with stun batons)) but that doesnt.. speak for it's level of natural intelligence.

and it's bothering me.

not to mention that the indoraptor was created for the army as a weapon. we know this, because Hoskins in the end of JW1 says "take that, and size it down" @ the indom.  they wanted to emphasize intelligence and trainability ((and loyalty but we're not talking about that bc fuck ingen lol)) (re, needing blue's DNA to make it "Tameable") in order to have the most astounding and destructive animal possible for the battlefield.

where was i in all of this. what was My role? i want answers.

the speculation that i have is that i was genetically altered to be more of a water unit, thus the more crocodillian form. that leads me to believe that in my canon, the original indo testing was a success, and they were seeing trainability and use on the battlefield. that leads further to believe that i was FAR more tame than previous iterations--or at least, they wanted me to be. to lose your animal in murky water is a nono, they had to have some guarantee they were getting this creature back. i feel like i was intelligent as an indo. angry, feral, but intelligent enough to know that displaying my anger was a detriment except in deployment.

the thing that throws me is that i dont feel like i ever actually saw battle. was i the prototype for my iteration? i feel more contempt for humans than downright all-or-nothing destructive like the canon indo. i feel like i remember lush forests with water features. was that my permanent enclosure? a testing enclosure? was i part of a park? was that because i escaped? i dont know..

-----

i'm almost certain i had a triceratops friend as an indoraptor. their movements are too familiar, like i've watched those majestic but horrifyingly dangerous horns from an outsider's perspective. they dont feel like they're MY movements so i think trike isnt a 'type of mine of any sort. but i cant... help but feel like they're intimately familiar.

was it a failed experiment? as in, the animal didnt live up to expectations, AND was given to me as live prey? or was it simply given to me as live prey? and i didnt eat it? or was it put in my pen in order to test ME? and we were just like "nah bro".

this has been haunting me for a while, but i dont know i'll get an answer.

i see it [as a] [really cute and sweet type of bonding/clan type thing, especially if they were also an experiment]. especially if my suspicion of me as a goddess bouncing to the familiar form (reptilian) of the indo is true bc it's def a Me(TM) thing. overriding killer instincts to be matronly as the goddess would, that is. but if i bonded with the trike, i would never have let them take it away. Mine.

-----

the movie indo was kept in a cage all its life and look at the amount of destruction it was able to make. can you imagine if it was healthy and fit?

if i was kept in an outdoor enclosure (and the green space i know wasnt just where i escaped to) how in the gods damned hell did InGen keep me inside LOL i know climbing and high leaps were def a thing for me. i dont think a wall even as high as the Indom's would keep me in. i had to want to be there... I feel like i was ... waiting. biding my time... but why.

[baekhvuns]

Bad Boy | Baekhyun V

( series masterlist )

part five.

word count : 2.5 k

pairing : baekhyun x reader

theme ( s ) : romcom, angst.

Since last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about Baekhyun. His soft plump lips on mine, my heart hammered against my rib cage every time the thought crossed my mind.

Eunhye’s wedding was coming quick and everyone was busy, today was the bachelor party for the both of them. Everyone (the younger guests / friends) were planning the bachelor parties without telling them.

Eunhye and Jongdae had gone in the town for a little date, which made it perfect for us all to decorate the whole room where the party was going to happen.

Eunhye’s room which all the girls decorating, it was filled with gold and silver accessories. Right now me and Hanbi were going to go spy on the Jongdae’s side of the party.

Hey, we gotta beat them. What’s the fun of coming to a wedding and not beating the grooms side?

Currently me and Hanbi were camouflaging

ourselves into men, since there’s a specific poster outside the opposite side door saying, ‘Only The grooms friends invited’

“Hanbi, do NOT flirt please. This is a secret mission, if anyone from their side finds out about this, I will kill you by my hands.” I said pointing my finger at her, still knowing she will do something.

“Okay okay! I won’t!” She said as she walked towards the room as I followed her.

I had a fake moustache on my face and was wearing a proper tuxedo, thanks to Eunhye’s father. (Still kinda loose)

“Oh hello! Are you guys Jongdae’s friends?” As soon as we reached trouble, I mean Oh Sehun questioned our presence.

“I—uh”

“Ye-ea actually we were his friends from college years, man I couldn’t believe he was getting married when he called me here. It took us a little bit of time for me and her— him to fly here as we came all the way from Canada.” I laughed unsustainably.

“Ahh, okay come in, we’re just setting up for the party yet.” Sehun walked in forward as me and Hanbi followed him. Silently smirking at the fact that Sehun actually fell for our plan.

As soon as we walked in, all I could say was that this place was a disaster.

“EY MAN HURRY UP! THATS NOT WHERE THE FLOWERS GO! THATS WHERE THE STRIPPERS ARE GOING TO STAND!”

“WHERES MY WINE JUNMYEON!”

“IS THE LIGHTS OKAY?”

“Minseok stOP singing oh my god!”

“Baekhyun! Could you please hurry up!”

“OKAY.” As soon as I heard Baekhyun’s response, I turned to where the response came from.

My eyes widened a bit, Baekhyun’s hair was jet black.

“Wait-t didn’t this dude had red hair yesterday?” I asked sehun, as he looked at me with his eyebrows up.

“Huh yea he did, he lost a bet yesterday and we told him to dye his hair.” Sehun chuckled, before realizing, “Wait but how do you know? Didn’t you just arrive?” He interrogated.

“Oh-um I looked that the pictures at Faceboo-ok! Yea there!” I said quickly as he nodded.

“This girl uhhh, what’s her name? Uhhhh Joohyun I think? Yea it was on her Facebook, I’m friends with her actually.” I said, smirking internally.

“Oh I heard Joohyun? You know her?” Suddenly Bakehyun popped out of no where as I made an eye contact with his beautiful eyes that were almost hidden by his hair.

“Uh yea man, she had a crush on me once but I turned her down but she’s pretty hot dude, I’m probably going to ask her out by the end of this wedding, anyway I’m Lim Taegeon.” I spoke in my best deep voice, and I saw Baekhyun’s expression harden, his eyes slowly got darker as he charged on me.

“yea yea back off okay.” He whispered in a dangerous low voice, oh how attractive that voice is, before pushing me to the wall, not obviously realizing that I am Joohyun.

“Yah yeah Baek, calm down! Sorry this dude has a pretty big of a crush on her and goes all crazy about her.” Sehun explained as I kept looking at Baekhyun.

Suddenly Baekhyun’s eyes squinted for a second and then widened a bit, he pulled away. Wait did he recognize me?

I looked for Hanbi and took her outside with me.

he has a crush on her

Me and Hanbi kept walking and I excused myself and went to change in my room.

What is this, a high school? That he has a crush on me?

I quickly changed out my costume and headed back in my spare clothes. I walked back in and spilled everything to the decorators, so that our room is much better.

“Hanbi, arrange the strippers.”

***

It was finally the time of the party, I was in a room with Eunhye and Hanbi getting ready for the tonight’s event.

“You know Baekhyun looks at you strangely.” Hanbi suddenly spike as she shimmered eyeshadow on Eunhye’s eyes.

“What? What do you mean by ‘strangely’?” I asked as I suddenly found interest in my closet.

“You know like. . . Heart eyes and all?” She said as I gulped, “I’m pretty sure you are hallucinating, why would Baekhyun look at me out of all the girls?” I said and headed towards the bathroom with my outfit.

He has a crush on her

***

Me, Eunhye and Hanbi headed towards our party room. All of us were dressed and waiting to party before the wedding. This is literally the 10th party of this whole week. I supporting a flowy white top with black jeans and white heels.

“Today let’s not give two fucks and party all night!” Eunhye yelled loudly which resulted everyone in the room to go all out.

We had the DJ playing the hottest tracks, the waiters giving out safe drinks and obviously the strippers started to dance.

Eunhye has dragged me to sit beside her as the stripper put up a show in front of her, “Ahhhh! I wonder if Jongdae would do this!” My eyes widen in disgust.

“Oh my god Eunhye I do not need to know that!” I yelled and got up and walked to where the bar was.

“Can I have a tequi— actually plain water please.” I leaned back on the chair looking around the room.

I grabbed my drink and walked out of the room before my ears start to bleed, I went to the balcony at the side of the hallway. Making sure I don’t bump into anyone.

As I was waking I could hear the deep screams of the guys enjoying, I smiled and walked to the balcony.

As soon as I reached, my phone had started to ring. “Oh opp— Okay yes—op— yea liste—oh MY GOD LISTEN TO ME!”

“Bro I will be back in like 4 days, the celebrations are coming to an end and I’ll be back.” I responded to my brother, Joohyuk.

“Yea don’t worry I’ll be back.” I said and hung up,

“Brother problems?”

I turned back to see Minseok, I smiled brightly. “Yea, sometimes he gets overprotective.” I said and rubbed the back of my neck.

Without realizing, I had been talking to Minseok for about 20 minutes now.

“Alright I need to get back, Eunhye will be worried! Enjoy your night.” I said and started to walk only to be stopped by, you know it, Byun Baekhyun.

“Hey what are you guys doing? Flirting?” He asked with a ticked off look.

“Nothing, just saw each other, talked and now leaving.” I said and walked away.

“Yah, yah! Joohyun! Hold up!” I could hear Baekhyun yell, but I didn’t stop.

“Yah! Listen!”

“I love you.”

As soon as he said that, I turned around so fast that I though I would fall.

“YOU WHAT!” I yelled, ignoring the background of the music.

“Just kidding!” He said with a cheeky smile, I rolled my eyes and started to walk back to the party.

“But what if I actually liked you?!” He yelled as I showed him my middle finger while walking away as I heard him chuckling.

***

The party was over and it was the very next day, today finally was the traditional Korean style wedding.

“Eunhye oh my god! This hanbok is literally made for you!!” I screamed at Eunhye glancing at her beautiful wedding hanbok.

“Stopp I’m gonna die of nervousness! Only if you guys would have worn them too I would feel much better!” Eunhye whined, unfortunately we couldn’t wear them as Eunhye’s mother, Eunhye’s Grandmother and her aunt were the only ones wearing the hanboks.

“I’m glad I’m not wearing the hanbok, imagine the struggles in the washroom when I have to go and pee!” I exclaimed as Eunhye laughed,

“Guys hurry up, Jongdae’s already there!” Hanbi yelled from outside as I walked out with Eunhye.

“Eunhye, this is it. After today, well, after another wedding. Your life will be changed, make sure you both give it your best and I don’t want any stupid fights happening and you crashing at my apartment!” I huffed as Eunhye hugged me.

“Let’s go!”

[ebonyphotographs]

A Kiss... as A Suggestion

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss

27) For Ignoct prompted by @unleashed-hell [read it here on my AO3]

I can’t actually thank you enough for the ‘suggestion’ please laugh at my terrible usage of a joke I’m really grateful for the chance to use creative flow. 

“Well then…” Prompto stated sassily. His eyebrows raised high in a fashion that had Noctis as physically on edge as possible. His tone hadn’t sounded as optimistic before as it did now.

“No,” Noctis pointed and raised his voice above the music playing. “Don’t you even, Prompto.”

Gladio had focused in on their conversation a long time ago due to the topic. The burly fellow simply couldn’t resist a flirtatious encounter. He was way more humored than he needed to be, which was another factor that added to the nerves building up in Noct’s stomach.

“Hey, don’t side with him,” he quickly directed to the man as he started to laugh.

Ignis remained standing firmly in place where he’d been listening to them banter the matter. The idea of what Prompto was already insinuating filled him just as evenly as it had filled Noctis with panic. At a time like now, nothing would be more embarrassing than to kiss his partner in front of the both of them. Of course Prompto already knew, but it was starting to sound more like a dare to convince Gladio than anything else. Ignis swallowed hard.

Maybe…

“Oh come on, you guys can’t honestly act so shy.”

Prompto’s gaze returned to Noct with a suggestively smug expression. His cheeks were flushed from the drinks they’d shared throughout the night. It wasn’t as if they weren’t old enough to toss a few back – or to be prepared for the effects of doing so. It was only going to get worse from here at that rate. The apparent had yet to hit the air and yet Ignis felt he already knew. He was pretty sure they all knew. Noct was fighting it enough to start considering what he should say to steer their interests to anything different. What a cheeky situation.

“You guys have kissed at least once, right?” Gladio asked.

Ignis adjusted his glasses. It wasn’t as if he could pretend he didn’t belong in the discussion nor that he couldn’t hear what was being said around him.  

“Well,” Noctis whispered, unsure of himself. “We… uh…”

Gladio waved an arm in the air at him. “Pfft, that about says it all.” He laughed again.

Prompto could see Noct’s self-esteem visibly drop. “That’s real lame bro. You got anything else to justify that lousy answer?”

Ignis stepped forward towards his partner and grabbed his shoulder to reassure him. “Reasonably, you shouldn’t expect him to rush a relationship.” Noct was more than grateful he’d broken his silence.

“It’s not like there’s pressure, right?” Gladio contradicted. “You two clearly love each other; why aren’t you kissing?”

“Yeah, why aren’t you two kissing right now?”

“I already told you P, back off.” Noct’s face was a thicker shade of blush suddenly. Ignis slipped a grin, all too aware that it couldn’t be blamed solely on the wine. “We do… kiss. A-and other stuff.”

“Other stuff?!” Prompto lunged in his seat. The exaggerated motion forced liquid to spill over the rim of his cup.

Gladio gave a nudge into the blonde’s ribs, a provocative notion which the couple attempted to ignore. Noct turned back to face Ignis and saw him pinching the bridge of his nose while shaking his head.

“No way. You’ve gotta prove it then.”

Oh no.

Ignis brought both hands up to cover his entire face. So, he really was frustrated then. “Why do you feel it necessary to antagonize us?” he groaned.

“What’s the matter Igster? Ya flustered? Bothered, even?”

“We don’t have to prove anything,” Noctis followed Iggy’s lead. Despite that Ignis had been holding him well in place with solid thinking, he couldn’t help his mind from going there. It was tempting… to kiss him with them watching – just to shut them up at least.

Maybe, just maybe.

Dirty as it was, Noctis wasn’t so cautious about their bond. The same could not exactly be said for the more reserved of the duo. Ignis was professional; he was proper (as demonstrated by his ability to hold down his alcohol). Even still, the implications were taking their tole on his poker face and Noctis could tell he was overthinking it.

“You know,” he emphasized towards Ignis. “It is just the guys. I mean, they’re not gonna tell.”

Ignis stammered. “N-Noct.”

“It’s a celebration,” Gladio reminded them with a cheer. “You should loosen up!”

Prompto playfully winked and kicked his legs around. “Go for it, loosen those lips!”

Ignis’ shoulders tensed. “Are you… honestly thinking-? Noct?”

Noctis inched closer to him. “It’s just harmless fun. Besides, it’s not like I’m ashamed of us.”

Keeping the hoots and hollers of their friends as much in the background of his attention as he could manage, Ignis aimed his eyes away from everyone. Evidently, he wasn’t so structured afterall.

“If you’re gonna say you’re dating ‘and stuff’,” Prompto mimicked a quotation with his fingers, “then I suggest you seal the deal with your mouths.”

“Yeah, and none of that cheap one-second puckering either,” Gladio added. “Make it a real one!”

The tips of Noct’s shoes tapped against the floor tile as he closed the gap between their chests. From up close, he could see how undone he truly was. He was starting to sweat and with his body language so posh, it was outrageously obvious that he was putting on a front. In the reflection of his shining iris, Noct could see his camouflaged trembling. Was he quietly pleading, or was he struggling to deny his want to touch him?

Poor thing. He worried just a bit too much.

“Brace yourself, Specs.”

Ignis grounded his feet. He looked back at their audience (who had both leant in – almost in disbelief – to gawk and shout at them) but his green spotlights came back to Noctis with speed. The raven-haired boy’s eyelids fell shut and his jaw angled so their noses could brush. Noctis raised both arms to lace them around Ignis’ neck, then lifted onto his tiptoes for good measure. All practical train of thought fled Ignis’ brain the instant he had Noct’s lips upon him. It was a firm kiss, warm, and just as sure as it would have been if they were alone. His eyes finally closed as he gave in.

Noctis seemed especially pleased. It wasn’t so awful to demonstrate his affections like this. He pushed the kiss deeper, much to Prompto and Gladio’s surprise. Yes, it was all in good fun. Noct knew this could potentially leave somewhat of a scar on his beloved, but he hoped that the trust the four of them shared might outweigh the fear. Plus, the he could test Iggy’s limits. He hadn’t stopped him or shoved him away. There may have been some slim chance this moment proved more for the two of them than it would for anyone else.

So he kissed him again. Then a third time. And four, and five. He dipped his fingers into Iggy’s hair and rolled the strands around teasingly.

Prompto squealed loudly from the couch at the corner of the room. “Aw, damn! He looks so into it!” He gave a few slaps against Gladio’s exposed upper arm.

Ignis’ attitude utterly betrayed the composure he’d failed to sustain. He couldn’t keep his hands from cupping Noctis’ hips, particularly when he sensed his drunken wobbling. Curiously however, Noctis seemed rather steady. At least the motion of his mouth had him thinking as much. Perhaps it was he himself who was dizzy.

For a second, Noct pulled away, but only slightly. Ignis anticipated his love would be completely gone soon and it admittedly saddened him (once he put the prospect of their onlookers away). What passion, he thought. Was he being cocky or was he actually showing off? Was Ignis proud to be shown off?

Just as he was beginning to lessen his embrace, shock flooded his body when Noctis slipped his tongue deep into his mouth and licked all along the inside. Ignis grabbed at his shirt tightly and moaned from the wetness; an immediate regret. It didn’t help that Noctis had taken his own clasp of his shirt into his hands to keep him from pulling away.

No taking that one back.

Prompto was screaming. “You did that on purpose!”

Gladio had rolled to the side for air after witnessing them part. “Oh man- I don’t believe it! Aha!”

“You purposely turned to the side so we could see your tongue!” Prompto continuously repeated his statement in broken fragments over and over.

Noct spun to hide his face just long enough to register what he’d done. Why was it so difficult to hide his giggles? He prayed inwardly that it was worth it; he tasted Ignis’ tongue for the very first time right there in front of them. No way was he going to confess such a thing out loud. A revelation of that caliber would never die down. He’d be hearing about it for years. “You had better believe it now, you perverts. I’m not doing that for you again.”

He eventually accepted that he’d acted selfishly and started to feel bad. He threw his head back to check on Ignis and bit his bottom lip sharply – practically scolding himself – because he looked like he might start to cry.

“Ignis, you okay?” Calling his full name should have indicated his sincere concern. Surely he hadn’t crossed a serious line of some kind.

Ignis stood in the same place with the back of his wrist sheltering a partly concealed smile. Noctis blinked with a bit of apprehension. A huff of laughter parted from him.

“Too much?”

Ignis removed his hand and unveiled a blissful grin, stretched ear to ear. He shut his eyes tight and snorted before fully vocalizing his happiness, much to Noct’s relief. Thank goodness.

“For you, Noctis, too much is never enough.”

[thesydneyfeminists]

“Queer Eye” Breaks Down Toxic Masculinity Culture

Since its release in February 2018, the Netflix reboot of “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” has been all over the media. Like any pop culture fad, the show has received both raving reviews and ruthless criticisms. On its surface, “Queer Eye” is a fun, feel-good show with just the perfect amount of “edge” for its target audience. There’s a heavy focus on personal transformation, teachable moments, community building and self-love/ care. The cast is comprised of five gay men who each handle one aspect of these transformations: fashion, food, home, culture, and personal grooming. Personally, the show strikes an emotional cord for me. I’m a sucker for the exact kind of sappy, optimistic messages the show portrays. Plus, I’ve enjoyed watching the show and its main cast grow and adapt over three, short seasons. “Queer Eye” is easily bingeable, takes my mind off the doom and gloom of the world and fans a small flicker of hope that whispers, “we can change the world by helping one another.” Still, in researching this article, I found plenty of articles illuminating flaws in the show I never would have seen otherwise. These faults range broadly but include the capitalistic and materialistic basis of the show, the mistreatment of cast members, and the general “unqueerness” of a show with the word “queer” in its very name. All these points are valid, and I will link some sources at the end of my piece that flesh out these criticisms in more depth and nuance. Today, though, I want to apply a feminist lens to one particular aspect of “Queer Eye,” and that’s toxic masculinity.  

Image Description: Photo of the Fab Five against a plain, white backdrop. Tan is on the far left, wearing a black, long sleeve, collared shirt with large white polka dots and dark blue jeans. His arms are crossed in front of his chest and he is looking into the camera with a very slight smile. Bobby is standing to the right of Tan, wearing a black tshirt, black pants, and a light grey blazer. His body is angled towards Tan and his right hand is in his pocket. He is also looking directly at the camera with a neutral expression. Jonathan is in the center, wearing a white tshirt, dark blue pants and a blue jean jacket. His back is to Bobby and his hands are wrapped around Antoni’s arm. He is looking into the camera with a neutral expression. Antoni is to the right of Jonathan, wearing a grey tshirt, white jeans and a dark brown leather jacket. His left arm is wrapped around Karamo’s shoulder. He is looking at the camera with a neutral expression. Karamo is on the far right. He is wearing a dark blue tshirt and dark blue, velvet blazer with dark wash jeans. His right hand is in his pocket and he is also looking at the camera with a neutral expression. Image Source:  https://variety.com/2018/tv/features/queer-eye-emmys-reality-conversation-contenders-1202843269/

“Queer Eye” takes place in the deep south of the United States, a place with a reputation for racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia and ableism. The show and its cast attempt to grapple with many of these topics. Sometimes they succeed and sometimes they fail. Some of the failures are teachable moments. Others aren’t. One of the structural issues “Queer Eye” confronts fairly well and directly is toxic masculinity. Unlike the original show, not every episode the reboot features a cishet man. I very much appreciate how the Fab Five branch out to include more diverse people in the second and third seasons. For example, “Black Girl Magic” is probably one of the most memorable and well done of the episodes on the show. Another personal favorite is when the Fab Five help a young man “come out of the closet” for the first time. However, in many of the episodes, “Queer Eye uses gay men to unleash traditionally feminine qualities in masculine blokes to redefine what all of those things even mean” (https://www.redonline.co.uk/red-women/blogs/a531752/laura-jane-williams-queer-eye-feminist/). In doing so, the Fab Five actively deconstruct toxic masculinity and embody feminist activism. They show up, communicate with their fellow men and make them question what it means to “be a man.” And, for the most part, the men listen. Partially because it’s a TV show, of course, and they have to listen. But also, partially because the Fab Five have access to and constructively use their male privilege. They show how all prospective allies should use their various privileges: to call out toxic behaviors and help people who are willing to unlearn them.

Image Description: Photo of someone holding a sign up in front of some city buildings and trees. The sign reads “You can be masculine without being Toxic bro. #truthtopower.” It is written in mostly black letters on a white background. The words “you can” are outlined in bright pink. The word “masculine” is underlined in red. The word toxic is written in green, outlined in bright orange and underlined in red. “#truthtopower” is written in red. You can’t see much of the person holding the sign, except the top of their head and their hand/ forearm. They are wearing a grey baseball cap and a camouflage shirt. Image Source: https://theconversation.com/the-real-problem-with-toxic-masculinity-is-that-it-assumes-there-is-only-one-way-of-being-a-man-110305

Over the course of a week, the Fab Five teach the cishet men on their show fairly basic life lessons – how to properly groom themselves, cook a meal, decorate their house, etc. They very clearly don’t believe in the “one size fits all” model and thoughtfully tailor their lessons to the individual. The underlying moral of these interactions is the value of vulnerability. For example, in one episode, Antoni teaches a widower how to prepare a proper meal for his two young sons. Since the death of his wife, Rob Elrod struggled to prepare healthy meals for himself and his family. So, Antoni’s cooking lesson is a learning moment about food, but also about how to be the best possible parental figure to young boys. Throughout this episode, viewers see a tender, loving, yet flawed father. By the end of the episode, we are left hoping his continued relationship with his sons will be better because of the Fab Five. As another blogger suggests, “That’s the thing about toxic masculinity — it’s not just the unconscious belief that having your own style and enjoying refined pleasures of the senses makes you less masculine, it’s the belief that vulnerability in any form makes you less masculine and, therefore, less of a valuable human being” (https://medium.com/s/pop-feminism/queer-eye-for-the-male-victims-of-toxic-masculinity-cdcdad02730d). And if I had to choose one word to describe the very heart of “Queer Eye,” it would be “vulnerability.” Not only do the Fab Five cultivate this vulnerability with the men they makeover, but they show it themselves as well. And, in doing so, they invite the audience to share in these moments of opening up.

Image Description: Screenshot of a tweet by user andi zeisler (@andizeisler). Tweet  reads “general periodic reminder: the term ‘toxic masculinity’ does not mean ‘all men are toxic.’ It refers to cultural norms that equate masculinity with control, aggression, and violence and that label emotion, compassion, and empathy ‘unmanly.’” The tweet has been liked 20,166 times and retweeted 7,792 times. It was published on the 15th of February, 2018. Image Source: https://knowyourmeme.com/photos/1348005-toxic-masculinity via @andizeisler’s twitter account. 

I wish “Queer Eye” could be mandated viewing for all cishet men. But that’s one of the main problems with the show. The audience it attracts is not the audience that truly needs to watch it. There isn’t much hard data to support my hypothesis. But, if you tune into internet conversations about “Queer Eye”, it’s clear the majority of viewers are not cishet men. The show seems to attract a large LGBTQIA+ fandom, probably because wholesome representation of any kind is so difficult to come by for us. Otherwise, the target audience appears to be young(ish), upper middle class, white people. It definitely does not include the very demographic of men that so desperately needs to hear the lessons “Queer Eye” teaches. The result is a warm and fuzzy TV show catered very specifically to people who already know the dangers of toxic masculinity. For the length of an episode, we get to sit back and be proud of ourselves for simply understanding that deconstructing toxic masculinity is critical work. Furthermore, “Queer Eye” so often puts the burden of transformation on those with marginalized identities. As one writer quotes, “Queer Eye suggests we can all get along, if only half of us would just be super-duper nice and patient with the other half” (https://slate.com/culture/2018/02/netflixs-queer-eye-reviewed.html). The Fab Five are thus both a beacon of hope and a reminder that the darkness is still ever so present. Still, if nothing else, “Queer Eye” reinforces the importance of representation and suggests the possibility of a world without toxic masculinity. The Fab Five very clearly care about people, and their palpable labors of love alone make the show worth watching.  

By: Brittany L.

Sources

https://slate.com/human-interest/2018/02/why-queer-eyes-common-ground-message-fails-in-2018.html

https://slate.com/culture/2018/02/netflixs-queer-eye-reviewed.html

https://theestablishment.co/the-not-so-secret-materialism-of-queer-eye/

https://www.indiewire.com/2018/03/queer-eye-netflix-not-queer-1201932107/

https://www.them.us/story/skyler-jay-reveals-his-true-feelings-on-queer-eyes-trans-makeover-episode

https://www.bitchmedia.org/article/queer-eye-cutting-room-floor

https://www.bustle.com/p/queer-eye-season-2-exposes-the-fab-fives-flaws-but-thats-the-point-9394381

https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2018/06/queer-eye-season-2-review/562883/

https://www.redonline.co.uk/red-women/blogs/a531752/laura-jane-williams-queer-eye-feminist/

https://medium.com/s/pop-feminism/queer-eye-for-the-male-victims-of-toxic-masculinity-cdcdad02730d

[kidsviral-blog]

How I Rebuilt Tinder And Discovered The Shameful Secret Of Attraction

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/how-i-rebuilt-tinder-and-discovered-the-shameful-secret-of-attraction/

How I Rebuilt Tinder And Discovered The Shameful Secret Of Attraction

Why we swipe the way we swipe.

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Jenny Chang / BuzzFeed

Suppose you’re a straight woman thumbing through Tinder while waiting for the train, avoiding your homework, or bored at work. A picture of a deeply bronzed man pops up in your stream. How do you swipe? More interestingly, if someone asked you to explain why, how would you answer?

Say that it’s this guy:

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Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

His location is exotic. He’s doing something that requires a wetsuit. Chances are, he needed a good amount of money to do what he’s doing in the place he’s doing it. But the dark tan, large tattoo, long hair, and name like “Kip” indicate a lifestyle that is probably not that of an investment banker. You can’t really see his face, but surprisingly that doesn’t really matter because the overwhelming reason that hundreds of men and women who swiped “no” in a full-fledged Tinder simulation I unleashed on the internet had nothing to do with attractiveness. Instead, it had everything to do with the type of person Kip seemed to be:

“He probably calls himself a ‘humanist’ instead of a feminist and tries to impress people with how much he ‘made friends with the natives’ when he travels. Barf.” –straight/white

“I love the tattoo, but he seems too skeezy in a way I can’t put my finger on. Scuba is pretentious? Longer greasy hair?” –bi/Hapa/Japanese

“close call, but i hate his sunglasses and also i am imputing all sorts of things about him. like he probably says namaste to the barista at the coffee shop and has a profile picture of him with a bunch of african children” –bi/white

“Lol he’s too old and it looks like the sea is his mistress already I can’t compete with that.” –straight/white

It’s possible these respondents are “overthinking” their response to what, on the surface, is a very straightforward question: Am I attracted to this person or not? Indeed, some would argue that there’s no reason to even explain: You can’t argue with your genitals.

But maybe what we call the argument of one’s genitals is, in truth, incredibly — and both consciously and subconsciously — influenced by the cultures in which we grow up as well as our distinct (and equally culturally influenced) ideas of what a “good couple” or “good relationship” would look like. Put differently, we swipe because someone’s “hot,” but we find someone “hot” based on unconscious codes of class, race, education level, religion, and corresponding interests embedded within the photos of their profile.

Essentially, we’re constantly inventing narratives about the people who surround us — where he works, what he loves, whether our family would like him. And more than other dating services, which offer up comprehensive match dossiers, Tinder appears to encourage these narratives and crystallize the extrapolation process and package it into a five-second, low-stakes decision. We swipe, in other words, because of semiotics.

“Semiotics” is, quite simply, the study of signs. The field of semiotics tries to figure out how we come up with symbols — even as simple as the word in front of you — that stand in for a larger concept. Why does the word “lake” mean that massive blue watery thing? Or how does the stop sign, even without the word “stop,” make everyone understand not to go forward?

But signs aren’t always static in their meaning — it’s all about context. Wearing a camouflage jacket can mean that you’re in the military, a hunter, a punk, a redneck, a misogynist; having a shaved head, as a girl, can connote that you’re a radical, a cancer survivor, or a lesbian.

Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

  I first noticed this “crystallizing” tendency in Tinder when a friend, let’s call her Katie, starting playing it for fun, three beers in, at a bar. She was thumbing through prospective matches’ profiles (usually comprising six Facebook pictures, authenticated Facebook age, and a brief bio line) for the table, yelling out her immediate reaction: too old, too manscaped, too short, too bald, too Jersey, HOT, too douchey, too finance-bro, too “ew,” too hipster, too boring, too CrossFit, TOTALLY HOT.

Katie’s performance is indicative of a larger truth: that most of the fun of checking people out isn’t actually talking to them, but thinking about whether or not you’d talk to them and how. Katie was using Tinder at a bar, but instead of squinting across the room, she got to look at well-lit pictures of each potential match attempting to present his best self, seeing what phrase he uses to describe himself and a collection of ironic bon mots or general pronouncements (“no offense, but no crazies”).

Tindering thus mimics the relationship of checking someone out on the street, in the classroom, or on the subway, but with the added tactile pleasure of physically swiping the rejects out of your field of vision (and your life). That’s the real difference between Tinder and sites like OkCupid, Match, eHarmony, and J-Date: The end game on those sites is an actual date (and a lot of times marriage!); the end game on Tinder is the web version of a low-stakes bar conversation, which may or may not lead to a date or relationship.

Katie’s verdicts were often based on obvious, glaring “facts” of the profile: A 5-foot-7 male was “too short.” A 39-year-old guy was decidedly “too old” for Katie’s 33 years. Another is bald; she decides him “too” much so. But other swipes relied upon more a more vague, albeit immediate, calculus. To be “too douchey” is to have a bad goatee, a shiny shirt, an unfortunate facial expression, or a certain type of sunglasses. “Too ew” could be any blend of traits that, to white, straight, middle-class Katie, read as repugnant.

But some judgments are too secret — and shameful — to say out loud, or even admit to ourselves. Katie never said “too not-white,” “too poor,” or “too uneducated.” We cloak those judgments in language that generally circles the issue: “Nothing in common,” “he wouldn’t like me,” “I can’t see us together.” Those statements aren’t necessarily lies, but they’re also not always full truths either — and often rely on overarching assumptions about what differences in race, class, education, and religion dictate not only in a relationship, but any interaction, romantic or otherwise.

After watching Katie and tinkering around on the app myself in a game-like fashion, I wanted to see if, relying on anonymity, I could get at the heart of the subconscious snap judgments behind each wipe. Why do we swipe the way we swipe? And are those assumptions “just human,” or indicative of larger, enduring, and possibly destructive cultural divides?

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Jenny Chang / BuzzFeed

Since there’s no way to standardize Tinder’s in-app selections for all respondents (and because using and publishing the real identities of strangers poses more than a few concerns), I decided to make my own, somewhat crude simulation. The first step: Scour stock images to find a broad array of profile “types.”

The process proved fraught, as stock images for casually dressed black males, women over a size 4, and anyone who didn’t fulfill stereotypical understandings of what male/female looks like require some unsettling search queries and yield clichéd and borderline racist results (try searching “curvy” or “fat,” for example, and you get a sea of women looking very sad while looking at food or standing on scales).

I winnowed the profiles down to around 30 men and 30 women, processed them through Instagram filters to make them seem more like something someone might actually have on their account, and put them in standard Tinder profile frames. I picked approximate ages and came up with a mix of names — some of which were intended to complicate or amplify the mix of signs in the profile.

Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

  The result is an approximation, but not re-creation, of what Tinder is actually like. The goal was to correlate each participant’s race, class, education, religion, and sexual preference to their swiping habits. For each Tinder “profile,” regardless of whether they swiped yes or no, the user was prompted to answer “What race/religion/class and education level is this person?” And, if they swiped no, they were asked to write a brief explanation for “why,” with a specific instruction not to simply note, “not attracted.”

The survey circulated via Twitter, Facebook, email, and among friends, amassing 799 seemingly earnest respondents. It’s not divided by the gender of the respondent, but by sexual preferences: If you desire men, you took the male simulation; if you desire women, you took the female one. If a participant identified as bisexual, he or she could take either.

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Jenny Chang / BuzzFeed

The most swipeable woman — no matter if the user identified as straight, gay, queer, or bi — was Yasmin, with an 89% swipe-yes rate, a full 10% higher than her closest “competitor.”

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Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

But why? She signified as middle-class (85% believed so); she seemed as if she had finished a four-year college degree or higher (83%). She looks Christian (42%), spiritual (20%), or agnostic/atheist (17%), and reads as either “mixed race” (48%) or black (40%).

Look closer at this image: Yasmin’s teeth are white and straight and her skin is clear. Her shirt is nondescript, but doesn’t read, at least from what we can see of it, as “cheap.” The contrast between the shirt color and house in the background makes her look crisp and clean. Her overarching look is bourgeois, like a model in an issue of Real Simple.

Her eyes are “smizing,” which makes it seem like she’s actually happy, not just posing for the camera, all of which combines to create a feeling of “genuineness.” Her hair seems only the slightest bit unruly — hey, she’s not uptight! — but is also well-conditioned and cared for. She probably has means; she is content; she is educated; you will have something to talk to her about, and she will be pleasant.

But perhaps the most attractive thing about Yasmin, at least according to the simulation, is that her race is ambiguous. In his new book Dataclysm: Who We Are (When We Think No One’s Looking), OkCupid co-founder and data scientist Christian Rudder asserts that “when you’re looking at how two American strangers behave in a romantic context, race is the ultimate confounding factor.” Working with star ratings and messaging data, Rudder found “two essential patterns” of male to female attraction: First, men tend to like women of the same race; second, men “don’t like” black women.

So why, then, do Rudder’s OkCupid findings not apply to Yasmin? It would appear she’s not black enough. Just contrast Yasmin’s profile with that of Lindsay, whom users read as unquestionably black (97%) and who received only a 43% swipe-yes rate.

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Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

Most respondents explained their rejection of Lindsay based on height and race, or, in one straight white male’s words, because of “unconscious racism?” He continues: “Not that I don’t find black women attractive — and not just the Beyoncés of the world, either — but this woman’s aesthetic, which has definite racial and class markers, doesn’t appeal to me at all.”

Here, “aesthetic” seems to mean manipulated hair, more visible makeup, cluttered clothing, and a less-inviting facial expression. And those “definite racial and class markers” make users more likely to see her race. For Yasmin it’s just the opposite: The absence of those racial and class markers make her race recede in importance (only two respondents, both straight white males, cited race as their reason for swiping no).

The same holds true for Xavier, who had the most swipeable male profile.

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Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

Xavier received a 79% overall yes rate — 10% higher than the closest “competitor.” Ninety-five percent of users read him as black — a similar percentage to Lindsay — but users also perceived him as well-educated (95% percent thought he’d finished a four-year college or higher) and middle- or upper-class (74%/24%). The business attire makes him look professional, but not overly boastful; he looks directly at the camera and his arms are folded, which makes him seem direct. You could read his lack of smile as menacing, but the shirt and tie soften the effect.

The 21% who swiped “no” were bluntly concerned with race: “Not into black guys” (gay/white), “I think I might be racist” (straight/white), “interracial dating is not for me” (straight/white). Some pointed to race-specific traits without explicitly mentioning race: “his lips are way bigger than mine. I have thin lips and the thought of always kissing gimungous [sic] lips is scary to me,” wrote one bi/white user.

Then there’s the cultural extrapolation: “Man, he’s pretty. And he seems really engaged and confident. But I can’t see him at the next big half Polish, half French, all judgmental family picnic” (white/straight).

But why was Xavier rejected for his race more than Yasmin? Both read as middle-class and educated; both appear clean-cut in their pictures. But Xavier reads as “more” black and he isn’t smiling; black men read, stereotypically, as more threatening than black women. Now, that’s all racist and speculative, but it also seems to mimic how our racist and speculative subconsciousness functions in the split second it takes to swipe a Tinder profile.

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BuzzFeed

Here’s the religious breakdown of the simulation participants compared to national statistics from the 2012 Census:

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Jenny Chang / BuzzFeed

The discrepancy is fairly easy to explain — the mostly twenty- and thirtysomethings who took the simulation are less religious than their parents and grandparents. Participants were willing, however, to assign religious beliefs to the profiles they rejected.

Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

  Take, for example, Junior, who garnered a paltry 7% swipe-yes rate. The stated reasons for rejecting Junior were variations on “he seems old school, like he’d be really patronizing to women” (bi/white) and “He’s overweight/doesn’t seem athletic” (straight/Asian). Eighty-one percent of users also read him as Christian — which could be correlated to the 70% who believed he was Hispanic, an ethnicity often associated with Catholicism. (Importantly, no respondent cited religion or ethnicity as their reason for swiping “no” on Junior.)

Same with Jimmy, who also pulled a 7% swipe-yes rate. Users didn’t like his truck and read him as “Southern” and working-class (84%). Seventy-five percent of users believed he was Christian, despite no physical indications of religiosity. A similar yoking happened with Chase, a man with a nice smile and a cowboy hat, whom 86% of users read as Christian.

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Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

By contrast, here’s Conor — who received a 56% swipe-yes rate. He’s holding a mandolin, he has a beard and long hair, and the reasons for rejection usually had something to do with said beard and the lifestyle it connoted. But only 10% of users thought he was Christian — while 60% thought he was atheist/agnostic, and 20% believed he was spiritual. Even though, like Jimmy and Chase, he’s photographed outdoors, certain hipster signifiers (not looking at the camera, long hair, mandolin) negate that reading.

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Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

When a profile includes obvious signifiers of religious belief, however, the reading process becomes more complicated. Thirty percent swiped “yes” on Kate, and despite signifiers that many interpreted as hipster, many signaled the cross around her neck as indicative of Christianity. A white, bisexual respondent wrote, “I don’t date people serious about their religion”; a gay Hispanic woman called the cross “a huge turn off”; and one who identified as mixed race and straight thought she seemed “a bit arts-y and sanctimonious (spiritual).”

That said, perceived religiousness is not an automatic “no.” Take Johanna, who had an overall yes rate of 64%:

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Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

Eighty-seven percent of users read her as Muslim. The reasons for swiping “no” were almost entirely contingent on her perceived religion and its cultural extrapolations: A white male said, “I wouldn’t want to deal with cultural differences in the bedroom”; a gay Hispanic user said, “I have no patience for religious people. She’s hot, but sadly religion is the biggest turn off for me.”

Overall, however, Johanna had an excellent Tinder swipe-yes rate (58% of straight men, 75% of bi men or women, and 78% of gay women).

Johanna signifies as religious, but unlike Jimmy, Junior, or Conor, she also signifies as middle- or upper-class (71%/26%) and college- or graduate school-educated (64%/26%). Like Chase and Jimmy, she’s photographed outside, but she wears a women’s suit jacket. Even those who swiped “no” on her profile for religious reasons conceded that “she is very cute” and “she’s hot.”

Religion — even religion that would likely preclude a successful relationship — seems to matter less when the subject seems to belong to a higher class and educational level (especially if that subject is gorgeous).

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Via Jenny Chang / BuzzFeed

Let’s examine Dave, one of the lowest-scoring male profiles. It’s an ambiguous profile — there are four men, and no sign as to which one is “Dave” — but that’s also the case with many Tinder profiles. But the rage directed at Dave wasn’t primarily due to the inclusion of his friends in the shot. Rather, it was his apparent privilege — communicated via the golf course, the uniform whiteness of himself and his friends, and the apparent gall to use a golfing photo as one’s profile picture — that led respondents to say the following.

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Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

It was bad. Like, really bad:

“NO NEVER IN A MILLION GODDAMN YEARS. This privileged fuck, first of all, which one is he? Does it even matter? No, because all polo shirts are interchangeable.” –bi/white

For the record, not interested in any of those white frat boys in that picture.” –straight/Asian

“I can’t tell which of these four dudes he is, but I don’t want to date The Man.” –bi/white

“they all look like finance bros which might be the worst subcategory of bro.” –straight/white

“Not sure which one of these guys is Dave, but that doesn’t matter, because they all seem like Republican d-bags. Also: Pleated khakis? No.” –gay/white

“SO WHITE” –queer/Asian

“golf. overabundance of white dudes. who is Dave? Dave is legion. a legion of golf-playing white dude demons.” –pansexual/white

Dave scanned as well-educated (71% believed he’d finished college; 20% thought he’d finished grad school) and definitively upper-class (73% believed as much, the highest of any profile). But unlike other white men of higher class and education level, users also overwhelmingly read him as Christian: a whopping 79%. (Compare with Kieran, another white, well-educated male, whom 64% of users read as agnostic/atheist.) Respondents read Dave’s hobby and whiteness as indicative not only of wealthy, but Conservatism — which is often associated, explicitly and implicitly, with Christianity.

Dave demonstrates how Tinder’s lack of information forces assumptions from its swipers, which is is a perfect example of what makes Tinder so unique and perfect for this experiment. On OkCupid or Match, there would be clear markers of one’s political views. But on Tinder, you have only the presence of a pair of pleated khaki pants to tell you if the person is, say, conservative, “a douche,” and thus unattractive.

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BuzzFeed

No one wants to believe their attractions are racist, or classist, or otherwise discriminatory. We use elaborate phrasing to cover it up or explain it away, but it’s still there, even if not always to the profile’s detriment. The fact that the two profiles with the highest swipe-yes rate were both people of color seems to suggest something about shifting understandings about attractiveness, which makes sense given our respondents (overwhelmingly middle-class, largely white, and mostly urban and suburban denizens of the internet).

But “what we find attractive” appears to be far less about someone’s face and far more about the signs that surround that face. Think, for example, if a woman like Marit, pictured below, had the cheap highlights and unfixed teeth and name of Crystal?

Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

Thinkstock / BuzzFeed

  Though still anecdotal, Tinder rejection in this simulation appears to be more about class than race or religion. If a user self-identified as upper-middle-class and identified the male profile before him or her as “working-class,” that user swiped “yes” only 13% of the time; if they identified themselves as lower-middle-class, the swipe rate rose only slightly to 17%.

If those same users identified the profile before them as middle-class, that number rose to 36% and 39%, respectively. The same trend held true when judging female profiles: If the user identified as upper-middle-class and identified a profile as working-class, the yes rate was 26% — compared with 52% if they identified a profile as middle-class.

Whatever the signs that made someone think that a profile was working-class — McKenzie’s fishing pole, Renee’s dye job and pool pose, Ricky’s tattoos and piercings, John’s tank top, Toby’s camo, Jimmy’s truck — the swipe rates plummeted.

Which isn’t to suggest that poor people are ugly. The vast majority of explanations for the no swipes on all of the above profiles pointed to a perceived lack of common interests: “we’d have nothing to talk about,” “I don’t think our politics would mix,” “nothing in common.” Sometimes those assumptions stem from depicted activities — fishing, body modifications — but some are just the way the mind runs wild with class, weaving the narrative that a working-class person probably doesn’t read books for pleasure, or enjoy art cinema, or seek out microbrews, or go on hikes the way a bourgeois, middle-class person does.

Now, the results of a small sample-size Tinder simulation doesn’t mean that we’re all destined to marry within only our own classes. Data on the tendency to marry within one’s class is difficult to come by, but if relying on education level as an (imperfect) proxy for class, then the rate has decreased dramatically over the 50 years. Even as more and more people marry “across” lines of race and religion, fewer and fewer are willing to cross the education/class line.

Tinder is by no means the cause of this decline. It simply encourages and quietly normalizes the assumptions that undergird it. The Tinderspeak of “we’d have nothing in common,” taken to its natural extension, bolsters and reifies the idea of “two Americas” with distinct values and worldviews, two discrete factions with little impetus to support that which doesn’t necessarily personally affect us or our class.

It’s not as if race and religion aren’t still mitigating factors in our decisions about whom we find attractive, with whom we emphasize, or for whom we feel compassion. Race and religion do matter (and might always), but almost only when they intersect with a class identity that isn’t our own.

Ultimately, this admittedly un-randomized sample seems to suggest that the raw idea of attraction — that knee-jerk “thinking from the genitals” decision — has less to do with our unmentionable parts and much more to do with a combination of our deepest subconscious biases and with our most overt and uncharitable personal politics. And if that’s the case, it’s no doubt the reason why Tinder is so popular, addictive, and ultimately insidious.

Read more: http://www.buzzfeed.com/annehelenpetersen/we-are-all-classists