blastedass: by blastedass @ dreamwidth (Default)
[personal profile] blastedass
Open Post


What to hit up Bakugo for some action? Feel free to do whatever here!



Continue a thread from elsewhere. Toss an idea to plot about or build on.
Or just post a starter for a thread or a meme you want and go from there.


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Date: 7/5/23 21:26 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16180019)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( it's a smart idea, and one he hadn't even thought of: wordless, his chin nodding in agreement, he sends a text to both boys with the same message, something that likely sounds a little ominous--or naughty--depending on the context of the person reading it. in any case, it at least lets them know what happened and where they'll be, in case things go south, though the where will likely get both of them into some amount of questioning once they return back to the dorms. he isn't entirely sure that anything nefarious will happen, tonight, but it's always good to have information spread out to as many as possible just in case.

he doesn't want things to happen the way they have in the past, either. it had been hard enough to deal with the repercussions of what happened during the summer training trip, both for his own feelings and the feelings of those around him. it's the only part of this that sets his temper ablaze, a little, trickling in: if this is another attempt to take bakugou away from all of them, he's not going to settle for just an escape.

messages sent, he slips his phone back into his pocket, both hands pushed down into them. with a half of a shrug-- )


The front desk won't tell us anything. ( with a soft sigh of realization--and he's not going to even mention how he knows the rest, continuing on: ) Even if 'he' came here, they probably won't have seen him. The window is cut purposefully low so they don't see the faces of the people that come in, for privacy.

( --which means an interrogation is out of the question, though it may still be worth going through. his eyes narrow, considering, before he starts moving forward, with or without bakugou in tow next to him. )

But we can see which rooms have been rented. Come on.

Date: 7/8/23 21:49 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16180016)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( for all that he seems to know some measure of detail about these kinds of places--which may or may not have come from listening, with one ear, to conversations between some of their classmates back at the dorms--he can't quite place bakugou's insistence, other than the fact that he's always the first person to charge into everything. always bursting ahead of everyone, always trying to be in control, always being some kind of leader: it earns a lukewarm glance, a lift of his brows, as bakugou yells at him, the usual response to his antics.

it doesn't really bother him. if bakugou wants to be the first person to walk into the love hotel, he isn't going to stop him: although he'd be mildly amused to know the reasoning behind it, and if they're going to get into 'top' and 'bottom' hierarchy, he gets the feeling bakugou is not going to like his observations.

in any case, as they come up at the front of the hotel, past the nondescript entrance, he simply reaches for the door, giving it a soft pull to allow bakugou to walk ahead of him into it. he may or may not have a faint smile pinned at the corner of his mouth. )


They're not going to let us in to do that without....

( --well. he figures he doesn't have to spell it out, actually, and doing so might just encourage bakugou to yell again. in the lobby of a love hotel. where it's nearly utterly silent, save for the slight, soft music playing over the lobby speakers.

clearing his throat, he falls into step behind bakugou, right at his heels, feeling the door close behind them with some strange feeling of finality. it's one thing to hear about these places, but another to experience them: immediately, his gaze goes around the lobby, from the muted front desk to the tacky furniture set in the middle, to the wall displaying all the different rooms available. swallowing, he nudges at bakugou's shoulder. )


...Just act natural. ( naturally, he's back to saying things that don't need to be said out loud. ) Let's pick one out.

Date: 7/17/23 01:33 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16180019)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( well, at the very least, he's learning a lot about love hotel etiquette: which, apparently, includes not telling anyone to act natural, not opening the door for the person one is interested in, and not ogling over the wall that displays all the various rooms they can choose from. his smile drops, softening a little before it falls off his features entirely; it's hard to take this like he should, a mission rather than something they're doing for fun, and though he knows the situation is serious, it's hard to be completely deadpan here. even for him.

so he takes in a breath, realizing only a moment too late that he's still staring at the interior and not following bakugou to the front desk. with a jolt, he pads after him, nodding faintly at the growl and reaching down into his pocket for the slip of paper he's now folded, meticulously, over so much that it takes a bit of time to unfold it. gently, he smooths it out on the dip of the front desk counter, passing it over.

wordless, the person--he can't tell if it's a woman, a man, an alien--takes it from them, but doesn't seem particularly bothered, or even interested in their words. when he thinks on it, it does make sense: why would the receptionist care if they were left an address for the hotel in question? it sounds like they're asking for the sake of meeting up with someone, rather than asking for the sake of tracking someone down; that makes him swallow, glancing sidelong at bakugou, but he knows better than to say it out loud.

rather than give any sort of indication, the receptionist slides a tray forward: the sort where one should place their cash, card, or whatever type of payment method. and then, in a flat voice: that address is for this hotel. please let me know the room you wish to purchase. availability is visible on the wall back there.

his lips press into a flat line: and then, without even asking bakugou, he continues-- )


Number seven, please. ( he has no idea what room that is. just the first number that came to mind. he starts digging in his pocket for his wallet. )

Date: 7/24/23 01:53 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16180016)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( bakugou wins this one, much to his immediate dismay--and it's apparent on his face, glowering for the first time since they left the bar, staring at bakugou's side profile almost incredulously with his hand still fisted into his pocket for his wallet.

admittedly, paying with cash is much easier and safer. he should have thought about that one: and maybe he did, a little, and maybe a part of him would have found some sort of sick, adverse pleasure in endeavor having a heart attack about seeing him paying for a room at a love hotel on the credit card bill. then again, bakugou probably just spared him about two days worth of missed calls and clumsily-written text messages demanding they meet up and touting the virtues of safe sex, plus he's easily covered their tracks and prevented any sort of backlash from the school, so. once again, bakugou wins, but only narrowly. and he's not particularly pleased about it: manners tell him he should have covered at least half. )


...I'll pay you back. ( softly, almost sullenly, under his breath--this is the old shouto, grumbling and hard as ice, and he stands there waiting as the alien receptionist shuffles about back behind the counter both for bakugou's change and for the key, both of which she lays out neatly in the tray to return back to them.

the money is bakugou's, so he doesn't touch it, but he does reach and pick up the key, closing it into his fist. it has a sensor keychain on it, to use for the lock, which is shaped like a garish pink heart, with the name of the love hotel on it. he looks at it for only a moment before he pushes it into his pocket.

what was that about tops going first? shouto turns away from the counter, thinking nothing of it as he leads the way across the gaudy lobby towards the hallway leading to the elevator bank. at least he remembered which floor the room is on, from his brief glance at the key: he presses the up button on the elevator and waits, seemingly unconcerned as to what room it is they even picked, or if bakugou's head is going to explode from any of the things he's done unconsciously. )

Date: 7/28/23 03:04 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16180023)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( well, seems like the jury's out about the top debate: shouto may have been the one to get to the elevator first, key in tow, but katsuki is the one that stalks forward into the elevator once the doors split with a pleasant little ding. seemingly still unbothered by it, glancing back at the lobby once to see if katsuki's outburst has now caused them to have the love hotel police hot on their tails, he follows in after him, gently pressing the button for their floor. the doors slide shut, and while shouto expects katsuki to lurk at the back of the elevator like a little gremlin, he finds he's mistaken about his location; it means they bump into each other, as he backs away from the console. one of his hands lifts, brushing lightly down the length of katsuki's arm--and then, embarrassed, cutting away before he tries holding his hand again.

instead, he slips his hand into his pocket, looking down at his feet. the elevator's pretty small, anyway, probably to allow for couples to feel close, excited, warm; for the first time since arriving, he wonders if this going to put a wedge in this thing he's been pursuing between them, or if katsuki is even thinking of it at all. true, they're here for a self-proclaimed mission--and something potentially more serious than that, if it does turn out to be related to the league of villains--but he can't help but think of what they could be doing instead. if nothing bad had happened, they would be back at the bar, pressed together, talking or laughing or even getting screamed at, he doesn't really care which. it's dawning on him that this is now becoming work: and he'll be getting less of katsuki's attention. )


Mm. ( a soft nod of his chin, assenting, as he stares at his shoes and tries to mentally recall the glimpses of that wall of rooms he'd been gawking at a little. ) On our floor... Ah... Four others. The other floors had...maybe one or two each, I think the second floor had three.

( it's a struggle to try to remember which had been which, though--which will likely be a disappointment. luckily, the elevator door opening saves him, and he gestures with a soft bump of his elbow against katsuki for him to make his way out first. )

We should check our room first. There's the possibility that something's in it.

( it's a far fetched idea, but with the way things are going, it isn't entirely out of the realm of possibility, so it makes the most sense. jerking his hand out of his pocket, he follows katsuki, holding the key out to him pointedly to take to unlock the door. )

Date: 8/4/23 02:21 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16180016)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( like always, a statue that can at least walk and follow orders, he stays at katsuki's side, letting him have the key before he lets his hand fall, slipping it into his pocket. the other follows suit, but the hotel itself is a distraction, even when they're not in the lobby, or in their room: just the hallway is enough, his gaze drawn up to the decorative borders around the doors, the way the room numbers are displayed, the heavy scent of perfumed flowers in the air. it's true that this is nothing like any hotel he's ever seen before: he's never even heard about things like this, other than their mere existence. natsuo might've mentioned them once in passing--but then he thinks that had been more about going anywhere with his girlfriend other than the hallowed halls of their former home.

well, this is sort of the same situation, only not at all. he wouldn't have invited bakugou back to his family home after the mess that happened that first time, anyway; but maybe they would have collided together into one of their dorm rooms together at the end of the night, if things had gone the way they were supposed to. it doesn't matter now.

the sound of the door unlocking draws his attention back down to the room. quiet, he waits for katsuki to push open the door before he stretches his own arm out, above his head, and creaks the door open further so that they can both step inside. at first glance, in utter darkness, there doesn't seem to be anything there: he immediately reaches for the light switch, flicking it on as they both stand there in the entryway, the door slipping past them and shut behind them with a light little click.

...katsuki is probably about to be so mad at him. his random choice? means they're playing prince and princess for the evening, apparently. the room appears to be drenched in shades of red, pink, and black, like some sort of ancient european castle, with a huge four-poster bed and canopy, the floor and the walls done up to look like faux brick or stone. he can't tell. all he knows is that he's very carefully toeing out of his shoes to be polite, swallowing down the urge to laugh--in actual humor, or in fear, who knows--and steeling himself for the inevitable explosion beside him. )


I'll check the bathroom. ( --is what he manages to say, calm and measured, as he steps up into the room proper to proceed. )

Date: 8/14/23 02:21 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16632191)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( well, as far as explosions go, it isn't the largest one that he's suffered at the hands of his not-yet-boyfriend boyfriend.

in fact, he's sort of relieved that it's as tame as it is; sure, the people in the room next to theirs might hear the yelling, or they might not. from their view of the hallway, it had been obvious that the rooms are not really that close together, likely to prevent sound overlap, and so there's probably not too big of a risk that they might run into some kind of noise disturbance complaint from arguing. plus, thinking on it, whoever is in the other rooms is likely too concerned with other things to bother with a bit of yelling--that thought makes the back of his neck heat up, embarrassed. one hand rubs over it, sullen, as he heads through the room towards the bathroom as promised.

the room doesn't seem to have much going for it otherwise: the focal point is of course the bed, though there's a decorate lounge chair and a coffee table to serve as some sort of common area, just beyond the ominous cabinet that he also suspects contains things that might make even katsuki blush. even so, the bathroom is quite large, even larger than the one that his parents used to use back home; it opens with double glass doors, which he pushes to part tentatively forward. it's clean, complete with a large tub and a large shower area, though there's no indication of modesty--except of course in terms of the toilet, shut away into a separate room off the side. with a soft breath, he flips the light switch: and then the switch next to it.

interesting. it flashes vibrant colored lights over the tub and shower, enough that he reaches to turn off the fluorescent light to see the effect in relative darkness. with another press, the lights go from all colors to just red: his shoulders lift with a soundless laugh, and he immediately presses the switch one more time to kill all light entirely. )


...The window? ( he repeats, twisting back out of the bathroom to start to approach it, and katsuki, again. ) Mm... It's probably to air things out. But if we're worried, maybe we should close it.

( so that no one can get in. patiently, his gaze swings to katsuki's face, watching his profile closely--like always. he's content to follow his lead, here, at least when it comes to investigation; he imagines katsuki will have a better plan about what he wants to do now that the room seems relatively safe. except for the cabinet. ) What do you want to do?

( --well, speaking of. he lifts a hand to point at the large wooden thing. )

Open that? Maybe.

Date: 8/20/23 05:06 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16632164)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( so the window is out, by katsuki's determinations, and the cabinet is definitely out, by katsuki's embarrassment. a part of him considers arguing: do they both really know what's in it? he can't say he is entirely sure what could be waiting in there, other than an extra blanket, or perhaps extra pillows. it isn't that he's naive enough to think that there wouldn't be something in there more suited to the theme and obvious usage of the room, but it's more that he can't imagine just what those things might be, or could be--which of course means he's curious. his gaze steadies, staring at the twin doors of the cabinet, almost like he's warring with the urge to open it despite katsuki's warnings.

he decides, for now, to leave it be. he'll have a chance to peek inside later, maybe, or at least before they leave. with a slow breath, he nods, faintly, acknowledging the words; not only would it be extremely creepy to go from room to room outside, it isn't possible, and knocking on the doors inside...

pressing his lips together, he moves further into the room, approaching the bed. it's a little higher than he likes--and honestly, higher than he expected it to be, the mattress and the frame hitting him nearly at his hip--but he uses a hand to pivot himself up onto the edge of it, sitting there while he considers their options. katsuki might hate everything about the room, and he thinks he understands it, but that doesn't mean they can't sit on the furniture. )


We could get kicked out if we knocked on doors, since things are supposed to be private. ( as usual, he isn't telling katsuki anything he hasn't already thought of, but more speaking his own thoughts out loud like they might catalog them easier that way. ) We could listen outside the doors, because if it's anyone with a Quirk that mimics your body, it would...

( there's a quick swallow, embarrassed. ) ...mimic your voice, as well, but...

( frowning, he stares at the canopy around the bed, like it's easier than looking at katsuki. )

...that might...cause trouble, in more than one way.

Date: 8/25/23 01:43 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16632182)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( well, on the one hand, he can't say he doesn't disagree. one landmine means he's going to step on another, given his train of thought-- )

That's true. They don't know what you sound like when you get off, so they wouldn't be able to copy it.

( he says it thoughtfully, casually, as though that's simply part of the puzzle--it's only once it's out of his mouth that he realizes he probably would have been better off not communicating that between them. it also means he's grateful he didn't continue on with what he'd been planning to say: I know what it sounds like, though.

with a soft swallow, he cants his gaze away from bakugou, politely staring up at the canopy above the bed, instead. it's pinned to the posts for now, draped over the top of the frame and down the sides, and a part of him wants to reach out and feel the fabric; he's never slept in a bed this big, never slept in a bed this high, and it's all very strange and interesting in a way that it probably shouldn't be. )


...Our only choice is to stay until morning, then. We might not find the person, but our presence here might deter them from doing anything.

( his weight shifts slightly on the mattress--even if he stretches his legs down, his feet barely touch the floor. such a strange feeling. )

Or, if something does happen, we'll be here to stop it. ( his gaze flickers over to bakugou again, gauging-- ) You can go back to the dorm, if you want.

( at this point, he's practically throwing himself on every landmine he can... )

Date: 8/30/23 01:24 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16632167)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( it's not always easy for him to parse bakugou's feelings through his words: sometimes he thinks he can read through them pretty easily, that they come up in ways that are understandable for him, or at least in ways that he can get to the bottom of them without too much issue. sometimes he knows that it's his own personality, his own misuse of social situations and feelings and emotions in general, that leaves him at a disadvantage, and that he misinterprets in ways that he probably shouldn't, and takes note not to in the future. other times, he feels like he's at a total impasse, where he isn't quite sure how to proceed, or what might be best for him, what might be helpful.

he feels a little like he's messed this one up: there's no saving it, no redeeming himself, and as much as he's tried to carry on with letting bakugou be in the lead, at least in terms of making the important decisions, he thinks that this is one that he's going to feel poorly over, one that he's going to analyze by himself, in the dark, wondering how he could have fixed things. wondering how to improve for next time. even as bakugou storms off towards the bathroom, frustrated with the situation, he thinks he can understand at least that much: it's hard when there's no clear right answer, and there's no answer here that will yield them anything more than they already know.

with a soft breath, he slides off the edge of the bed. his feet hit the floor, and pointedly, he follows after bakugou, catching him just in the wide, open doorway of the bathroom. one hand reaches out for the crook of his nearest elbow, pulling at him, stalling him in his steps: he knows that risks retaliation, or at the very least, getting yelled at, but he can handle that sort of thing. )


Wait. ( soft and low, he lets his gaze roam over bakugou's face in the relative dark: and then he tries, one small, tentative smile, just at the corners of his mouth. ) You need...to pick which lights we want.

( 'we', because he's not letting bakugou get into the shower alone. )

I want to be in here with you.

Date: 9/1/23 02:53 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16654442)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( practice means his gaze shifts, alerted to the sound in bakugou's open palm--and honestly, that's one option he hadn't even considered, an option that he would maybe even laugh about if he could put it together. if they torched the whole hotel, lit it up in a flurry of explosions, well: that would smoke out all the guests, wouldn't it? that's definitely the wildcard option, something they could never do, but the thought is enough to settle some of his worry. even if bakugou intends to turn those palms up into his face, a string of frustrated detonation, he could handle it; it's just too funny, the idea of them standing in the ruins, their little love hotel completely obliterated.

of course, he risks being obliterated, too. maybe he shouldn't have asked about the lights. cautious, his gaze settles on bakugou's face, waiting: but there's no sharp remark, no sudden screaming, no insults hurled at him. rather, he seems almost--bashful about it all, quiet and grumbling, and a part of him wonders if he managed to somehow maneuver just right into the situation. it could be that he's finally learning a thing or two about subtle social nuance: or maybe he just got lucky. maybe it's because it's bakugou that he can find those little nooks and crannies to gently elbow himself into.

with a short nod, he lets go of his elbow, reaches instead to flick the switch. immediately, the room floods with a bright pink light--he flicks it again, turning, and the pink melts into that husky red, and rather than fuss with it more, he leaves it at that. there are more important things to attend to, which include rounding on bakugou again so that he can, immediately, dip his hands down to the hem of his shirt to start to pull it up without asking. )


How come you don't like green or blue? ( he has an idea, but, even so, he asks it quietly, patiently, as he works bakugou's top up along his chest, intent on undressing him by his own hand. ) Arms up.

( he should have maybe started the water first: or at least filled up the bath, to start, given that he thinks he wants to try to urge bakugou into it after he rinses off. it might be a good way to blow off steam, figuratively and literally. )

Date: 9/3/23 22:41 (UTC)
hairsplit: (pic#16632231)
From: [personal profile] hairsplit
( he's careful about getting bakugou's shirt off, if only because he knows that it's probably one of the nicer things that he owns. the last thing he wants to do is make matters worse when he's already somewhat soothed them over, at least for the interim; so his hands work slowly, pulling and loosening and neatly dragging the shirt up over bakugou's head before he takes a step back, the discarded fabric now loose in his hands. rather than bunch it all up and toss it aside, he takes a glance around the bathroom, finding a towel rack to loop the shirt over, using it as a hanger. at least that way, he's not going to get any wrinkles in it, and the steam from the shower--or the bath--will loosen them if they're there anyway.

when his gaze falls back, it's on bakugou's bare skin: naturally, he ends up in a silent study, chin dropping slightly so that he can admire all the dips and curves of muscle on skin that's drenched in dark red. the scars, blotched out in a darker color, only make him move closer; a part of him wants to run his fingers over them, just as he has countless times before, but he resists the urge. he doesn't like it when people touch his own, so why is it that he always wants to roll over bakugou's with his touch, like doing so might soothe them over? rather, his hands come up over bakugou's shoulders, smoothing lightly from the ends of them to the thick curve of his neck. )


What? Oh. ( too distracted, he's hardly listening--bath or shower, that makes sense. he shouldn't keep pestering him about the colors, so he'll save that for later when there's a good time to ask again. ) Mm...

( one hand slips, palms against bakugou's collarbones so that he can get one index finger under the length of that necklace, lifting it idly to feel the weight. )

Why don't you rinse off in the shower? And I'll start the bath.

( a compromise, maybe: gives bakugou a moment to himself, while something gets prepared for him. of course, either way, bakugou can't go in with his pants on; shouto's hands abandon the chain, skidding down the front of bakugou's stomach and chest to start to feel for the width of his belt, working it open without looking down at it. )


( ooc: omg no worries at all, enjoy your family time and forget about these!! have a good time, no rush at all. ♥ )

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