It starts, as always, with Camie.
The four of them are lounging around at a cat café after spending the morning studying together, and they’re discussing their plans for Halloween the coming week. It’s all very relaxed and light-hearted for the most part.
Then, in his usual heartbreaking deadpan, Shouto says, “I’ve never celebrated Halloween.”
It’s almost like there’s an audible record scratch, where the other three at the table swivel around to stare at him in horror.
“Not even, like… once?” Camie echoes hollowly.
Shouto shakes his head. Even Katsuki looks slightly horrified at the prospect, eyes widening.
Inasa looks moments from tears.
“Well,” Camie announces after a moment of silence, straightening in her seat. “Looks like we’re going partying this year, boys.”
It takes her all of ten minutes to get them invites to one of her friend’s parties. None of them bother questioning it, instead taking it in their stride and letting her gush about her costume.
“Babes, we totally gotta keep our costumes a secret!” she cries. “We can reveal them on the day, it’ll be lit!”
Katsuki just grimaces at her incoherent slang, while Shouto nods slowly and Inasa starts some spiel about preserving the excitement of sacred holidays.
Of course, trusting her was Katsuki’s first mistake. He should have known not to trust the sneaky bitch.
Two days before the party, Camie sits up from where she’s slumped over Katsuki’s legs on the grass and turns to grab his shoulders with wide eyes.
“Let’s all swap our costumes!” she shrieks.
“No.” Katsuki deadpans, flicking her away with one hand and continuing to read his book with the other. She pouts, clinging to him stubbornly.
“C’mon, Kitty, it’ll be totally lit! Right, Shou? ‘Nasa?”
Shouto shrugs noncommittally from where he’d been staring at passers-by. Inasa agrees like the kiss-ass he is, earning a glare.
“Stop calling me that.” Katsuki mutters. “Annoying bitch.”
Camie snickers, jabbing him in the rib and making him lose his page.
“Listen.” she stresses. “We can pick names out of a hat and it’ll be totally fun!”
“Fuck you, I know your bitch ass picked something slutty as hell.”
Camie pauses, considering the question.
“I mean… yes? But so what, Kitty, a girl’s gotta flaunt her assets sometimes, y’know?”
She shakes his bicep incessantly as he fruitlessly attempts to find his page again.
“So flaunt them, I don’t give a fuck. Just keep me out of your shit.” he sighs, swatting her away half-heartedly.
Camie pouts, leaning back. A contemplative look crosses her eyes, and she purses her lips in thought. Then she leans in again, bringing her mouth near Katsuki’s ear.
Katsuki’s book slams shut, and he turns around so fast she’s almost sent flying.
“The fuck you just say to me?”
She shrugs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear innocently.
Then, after a moment’s pause, a cough.
Katsuki’s hands start sparking. His eye twitches. Inasa helpfully extracts the book from his smoking grip before it can go up in flames. He takes a deep, long breath.
Don’t do it.
Don’t fucking do it, Katsuki-
“You’re on, bitch.”
They pick names out of a hat.
Katsuki pulls Camie’s name, because life hates him like that. He isn’t surprised in the slightest.
“I hate you.” he says. She beams, planting a wet kiss on his cheek.
“This’ll be fun!”
He blows up the condemning paper in his hand and wishes he had never been born. Shouto gives him a sympathetic nod, and even Inasa looks a little worried for him when Camie disappears into her closet to find the outfit he’ll have to wear.
After moments of rustling, she emerges clutching in her hands a very familiar orange and green uniform, complete with yellow pompoms sitting on top. He thinks back to the UA cheerleader outfits Mineta and Denki scammed the girls into wearing during their first-year sports festival.
“You motherfucker.” Katsuki breathes, suddenly feeling very weary. “You planned this.”
Camie winks shamelessly.
“Sort of! I mean I had a 2/3 chance of getting to see either you or Shou in a cheerleading uniform, so I took the gamble! Guess it paid off this time, huh?”
He hates her.
He hates her.
“Go try it on!” she insists, shoving it into his hands. “Call me when you’re done but don’t come out, I want Shou and ‘Nasa to wait until the party to see. I’m not sure how it fits, we might have to adjust it to make room in the waist and shoulder area, and maybe tighten the chest area…”
Katsuki groans, shuffling into her walk-in closet and slamming the door shut behind him with a final glare.
It takes a few minutes of internal warring to even touch the cursed thing. Finally, he bites the bullet and just shoves it all on as quickly as possible, feeling very glad there’s no mirror in Camie’s closet. When it’s finally on, he takes a deep breath before glancing down. Positives first, he tells himself. Think of the positives.
The waist fits fine. So does the chest. The only issue with the fitting is the tightness around his shoulders. Katsuki doesn’t know if he should be disappointed or proud at this.
The actual fucking issue is the length of the motherfucking skirt. Or rather, lack thereof. It barely reaches his mid-thigh when he’s fucking standing straight, for fuck’s sake. He doesn’t even want to think about bending over. The top is only marginally better. It leaves half of his abdomen exposed, and he finds himself wanting to yank the waistband of the skirt up to cover it. But when he attempts that, he just leaves more of his thighs exposed. He hates the motherfucking outfit with a passion.
He ends up rapping on the door with his knuckles and grunting out a, “Camie, get the fuck in here.” Not even five seconds later, the door is sliding open and then shut behind Camie, and she takes in the sight with wide eyes.
Then, not taking her eyes off Katsuki’s very-exposed midriff, Camie lets out a loud wolf whistle.
“Fuck off.” he hisses, crossing his arms over his stomach instinctively.
“No, no, no!” she whines, tugging them away. “Let me take this in, Kitty, you look hot as hell.”
They grapple for a minute or so before Katsuki hisses, tugging the waistband of the skirt up instinctively. He feels more than sees the shift of the hem up his thighs, and yelps, trying to yank it back down. But Camie’s already caught on, her eyes widening even further than before.
“Holy shit.” she breathes. “No, no-Katsuki, so help me if you move that back I will tear your limbs from your body one by one.”
He freezes at the all-too-serious threat, feeling oddly intimidated at the crazed glint in Camie’s eye.
“Damn.” she says to herself. “Your thighs.”
Katsuki’s hands are raised in surrender, but a glance down at the way the skirt barely reaches the tops of his thighs has his cheeks heating involuntarily as his fingers move back down to weakly tug at the hem.
“I hate you.” he says again, wanting to die of embarrassment. “I hate you so fucking much, just let me change already, you bitch.”
Camie grins, sizing him up wordlessly.
“Mm.” she says finally. “Mhm. You fucking meal. This is what the world needs, Katsuki.”
He snarls at her, still subtly tugging the skirt back down inch by inch. She slaps his hand away when she notices, frowning at him.
“Stop it.” she cries. “You’re a bad bitch. You’re serving right now.”
“The only thing I’m serving in this is jail time for public indecency, Camie. This is the worst fucking idea you’ve ever had.”
Camie pats his chest, hand lingering for a little too long.
“I’m not complaining, Kitty. No one is.” she blinks, squeezing his pectoral shamelessly. “Damn,” she adds as an afterthought. “You didn’t even have to alter the chest. Or the waist. Holy shit, Katsuki, have you always had these proportions?”
He shifts uncomfortably at the attention, not bothering to justify it with an answer. Camie’s expression softens, and she places a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, hey. This is just for fun. If you don’t wanna do it, no one’s making you.”
Katsuki’s hackles raise, and he growls.
“I’m not a coward-”
“I’m not saying you are. But if you’re uncomfortable, then that’s fine. You’re not a coward for not wanting to dress a certain way.”
Katsuki huffs, anger suddenly draining from his body at the concern in her eyes.
“Fucking-stop it with the sappy shit, Camie. I’m fuckin’ fine. Just not used to-”
He gestures towards his body in explanation, and she smirks.
“Not used to looking fuckin’ hot? I’d beg to differ.”
He swats at her, chest feeling lighter at the familiar banter.
“Cool it with all the compliments, I already agreed to your stupid challenge.”
She groans, shoving at him with an exaggerated pout.
“God, for a narcissist, your self-esteem is concerning low, babes.”
She contemplates something, before turning to peek her head out the door.
“Oi, ‘Nasa! Get in here and tell Kitty he looks hot as fuck.” she barks.
There’s muttering from outside, and then Inasa’s booming voice as he calls, “Katsuki-kun, I’m sure you look lovely in whatever…”
Inasa trails off as his head appears through the crack in the door to peer at Katsuki. He blinks once, before his cheeks turn an impressive shade of red. His eyes drop down for a second before they’re shooting back up, and he starts to sputter.
“I, ah-well, I-”
Inasa coughs awkwardly, looking anywhere but at Katsuki.
“Hm.” he says finally. “I-I’m just going to go-I’ll go back now.”
His head disappears behind the door again, and there’s a loud thud from the other side.
“Are you okay?” Shouto asks faintly.
“No.” Inasa’s muffled voice replies.
Camie turns back to face Katsuki with a smug look, and he sighs.
“Okay.” he says. “Fuckin’ whatever, I guess.”
Camie beams, pulling him into a tight hug.
(“Camie.” Katsuki mutters after a long beat of silence in which she doesn’t let go. “Camie, take your hand off my fucking ass.”
Camie smiles against his chest. “I’m just appreciatin’ the cake, babes. Let it happen.”
There’s another long pause, and then a muffled explosion that’s followed by a sharp yelp.
“Don’t push it.” Katsuki says.
She takes him shopping the next day. Apparently if they’re doing this, they’re doing the ‘full slut experience’, as dubbed by Camie herself.
The first thing she does is take him to buy white knee-high socks. He protests all the way, but the inner fashion designer than his parents have planted in his brain screams that they’ll look better than normal ones. He relents finally, reasoning to himself that the longer they are, the more skin they’ll cover.
Next, she takes him to get a pair of chunky white platform sneakers. Specifically chunky white platform sneakers, Camie stresses. Nothing less. Something about the aesthetic.
Katsuki stares at the blindingly white shoes in disapproval.
“They’re gonna get dirty, like, the second I put them on.” he deadpans. Camie frowns at him, snatching the shoebox away defensively.
“They will not, because you’re gonna be careful. You’re a big boy, Katsuki, I’m sure you can keep your damn shoes clean for a night.”
Katsuki frowns, feeling oddly chastised at her stern tone.
“Alright, mom.” he mutters under his breath. Camie grins, ruffling his hair patronisingly and dragging him to the next store by the sleeve.
When she drops a waxing kit into their basket, Katsuki stops in his tracks.
“No.” he says flatly.
“Yes,” Camie singsongs.
He picks the box out of the basket and places it back on the shelf.
Camie knocks it back into the basket with a warning glare.
“Yes.” she enunciates. “Don’t test me, Kitty. Beauty is pain, and if we’re slutting you up we’re going all the way.”
Katsuki swallows his pout, following her wordlessly as he glares at the offending kit in his basket.
They pass a rack of chokers. Camie looks at him hopefully, but he shakes his head. She doesn’t push it this time, sensing his refusal in the sudden tight set of his jaw.
By the time she’s dropping a tub of iridescent heart confetti into the basket, he’s stopped protesting.
The entire shopping trip takes the larger part of the day.
“You’re worse than my fucking mom.” he groans when they finally exit the mall. She pats him on the chest placatingly.
“Be at mine at nine tomorrow, yeah? Busy day.”
“Nine in the morning?” Katsuki whines incredulously.
She eyes the waxing kit, before nodding.
“Yeah. We got a lot of work to do.”
And so he finds himself lounging on Camie’s bed the next morning, trying to eat his waffle in peace as Camie spreads warm wax over his thigh.
“Alright, on three, babes.” she chimes, gritting her teeth. “One, two-”
She rips the paper off sharply, and Katsuki inhales half his waffle at once, going into a coughing fit.
“What the fuck-”
“It’s better when you’re caught off guard, I swear!”
He shrinks away from the next strip she approaches with.
“Why the fuck can’t we just shave it?”
“Because beauty is pain, Kitty-cat.” she repeats long-sufferingly, as if she’s the one getting her hair ripped from her body without warning. “Us women can do it just fine, stop being a baby.”
It takes them two hours to get through both his legs.
(“You guys seriously do this all the time?” he asks in horror. When Camie’s finally packed the kit away and determined herself to be out of smacking reach, she lets herself smirk. “Nah, we shave. I just like seeing you suffer.” She isn’t fast enough to dodge the book that’s hurled at her.)
When he gets back into the cheerleader costume, he swears it’s gotten even shorter. He mentions this to Camie, who innocuously averts her gaze with a muttered, “Maybe you just had a growth spurt.”
He narrows his eyes suspiciously but doesn’t follow the topic up. The costume isn’t as uncomfortable now that he’s gotten used to it, and his freshly-waxed legs actually feel nice as hell when moisturised and rubbing against soft fabric.
“Holy shit.” he mutters, falling back against Camie’s bed and rolling around in the bedsheets. “I see why you do it now.”
Camie, who’s just emerging from her bathroom in Shouto’s vampire costume, whistles.
“What a girl wouldn’t give to come home to this sight every day.” she sings, doing an exaggerated double-take at the sight of Katsuki sprawled in her sheets donning the cheerleader outfit. He throws another book at her, ignoring her startled yelp.
As if the outfit and fucking waxing aren’t enough, Camie bullies him into letting her put makeup on him.
She brushes what feels like an entire palette’s worth of blush on his cheeks and nose, and then dusts the heart confetti on his collarbones with far too much excitement.
“You’re enjoying this.” he observes dryly. She shrugs shamelessly, dusting some silver on the inner corners of his eyes. “You’re a fun model.”
By the time they finally exit, Camie sauntering out in her baggy vampire cloak and Katsuki shuffling close behind with his arms wrapped around his bared midsection, it’s time to head to the party.
They meet Inasa and Shouto at the park. Inasa is wearing Katsuki’s planned werewolf outfit, which is basically a normal outfit plus a singular collar, clip-on ears, and fake fangs. It's lazy as hell, but it’s probably for the best considering Inasa wouldn’t have been able to fit into anything of Katsuki’s size anyway. The tall boy goes bright red once again at the sight of the blonde’s outfit and averts his gaze immediately, sputtering out a weak greeting as he stares pointedly at the sky. Shouto, to his credit, is donning Inasa’s comically large snowman onesie and also looks slightly flushed, lips thinning as he joins Inasa in examining the sunset.
The walk to the party like that, Shouto and Inasa speeding ahead awkwardly while Camie tries to unsuccessfully sneak pictures of Katsuki when she thinks he’s not looking.
The party is in full swing by the time they arrive. There are some cheers when Camie enters, and Katsuki receives a good number of whistles that he preens under despite his barely visible flush. Within minutes of their entrance, bottles are being shoved into their hands.
Shouto examines his cruiser like it’s a particularly interesting bug. “My father has prohibited me from drinking alcohol.” he muses to himself, before proceeding to down two-thirds of the bottle without another word. Camie whoops, and Inasa cringes at the sight. “I don’t think it is wise to engage in these types of activities,” he calls over the shouts and thrumming bass of the music that’s playing on the speakers. Shouto looks him in the eye as he chugs the rest of his vodka cruiser and pops another open, and Inasa wilts in defeat.
“Loosen up, ‘Nasa!” Camie whines, pushing a can of cider into the tall boy’s hand as she leads them to an empty couch. “Y’gotta let loose every now and then, babe. YOLO or whatevs.”
Katsuki grimaces, while Shouto and Inasa look bewildered.
“I didn’t understand any of that.” Shouto mumbles to himself, taking another long sip of his drink.
“Slow it down, there, Icyhot.” Katsuki says warily, eyeing the other’s half-empty second cruiser. “You’re gonna get hammered at this rate.”
Shouto tilts his head.
“I don’t have a hammer.” he informs Katsuki primly.
The blonde blinks.
“Drunk.” he clarifies numbly, suddenly dreading the rest of the night. “I meant you’re gonna get drunk, fuckhead.”
The other leans back at this, turning to stare at the bottle in his hand for a long moment.
“Oh.” he says, before proceeding to chug the rest of it and reach for a third drink. “I’m not drunk. I can take care of myself.”
Approximately an hour and half later, Shouto is splayed over Katsuki’s lap and crying silently. The blonde is sitting on the couch with his first bottle and staring at the other with thinly veiled amusement.
“Your legs are so smooth,” Shouto mumbles against the couch, wrapping his arms around Katsuki’s thigh as a tear tracks its way down his cheek. “So much… so much leg.”
Katsuki sips at his drink idly as he pats the other on the head placatingly.
“Fuckin’ hammered.” he says passively. “I called it.”
“No hammers!” Shouto cries, head snapping up to stare at Katsuki. “No hammers. Only… only leg.”
A passing partygoer stops to stare at the scene in confusion.
“Isn’t that Endeavour’s kid?” she mutters to herself. Shouto smacks his lips against Katsuki’s socked knee, his onesie dishevelled and dirty already. “Leg.” he sighs, arm tightening around Katsuki’s thigh.
Camie has taken at least 200 photos of the two of them by now, torn between snickering and cooing at the sight.
“Aren’t you getting hot in there, Shou?” she asks innocuously from over the top of her phone. The boy in question pauses. “Hot?” he echoes dumbly, before nodding. “Yes. Yes, I’m getting hot.”
He begins to wriggle out of the onesie shamelessly, making Camie grin.
Katsuki groans, slapping the idiot’s hands away wearily.
“Icyhot, you can literally fucking thermoregulate. Keep your damn clothes on, dumbass.”
“Oh.” he says, settling back down slowly. Camie pouts, lowering her phone to glare at Katsuki, before she’s whisked off by one of her friends.
Another half hour passes and a tipsy Inasa is sitting behind Katsuki on the couch, threading obnoxiously colourful butterfly clips into the blonde’s hair.
“You’re our butterfly.” he tells Katsuki as he clips another yellow one behind his ear. “Our pretty butterfly.”
Katsuki huffs but lets Inasa fiddle with his hair nonetheless.
“You’re all idiots.” he mutters. “Absolutely no concept of responsible drinking.”
Shouto, who’s currently drawing on Katsuki’s thigh with a sparkly pink gel pen, doesn’t look up from his task.
“Maybe you’re just scared.” he mutters absent-mindedly, scrawling a flower on the inside of the blonde’s thigh. Katsuki stiffens, jolting up to glare at him incredulously.
“I am not scared.” he says. Shouto pouts, his flower smudging with Katsuki’s sudden movement. “Sure.” he sighs slowly, trying to rub the misshapen flower away so he can redraw it. Katsuki narrows his eyes.
“Are you-fuck that. I’m not scared. Someone get me another drink.”
Another hour and Katsuki has his arms wrapped around Shouto as the two of them sob incoherently.
“Y’re just like Zuko,” Katsuki wails. “I fuckin’ love Zuko, fuck.”
“So much leg,” Shouto cries. “So soft leg.”
Camie, who has just returned to check on them, stops in her tracks.
“Who got Katsuki drunk?” she asks in disbelief.
“Shouto did.” Inasa replies with a giggle. “Katsuki is very sweet when he’s drunk.”
At the sound of their voices, Katsuki jolts upright, eyes lighting up at the sight of Camie. There are at least a dozen butterfly clips tangled in his hair, and his cheeks are flushed even darker than they had been.
“Camie!” he screeches, arms reaching out to tug the confused girl into a crushing hug.
“I missed you, like, so much!” he cries, burying his face in her shoulder.
“I missed you too, Kitty!” she cheers, wrapping her arms around him in return.
“You’re the only bitch in the house that I ever respected.” Katsuki sighs against her cheek happily. Camie opens her mouth to reply, before she freezes against him.
“Was… was that a meme?” she asks in dawning realisation. “You do understand my memes! You bitch, I bet you have TikTok, too!”
Katsuki stiffens, going silent for a long moment before his eyes start to well with tears again as his expression crumples into one of utter guilt.
“I do!” he wails, looking like a kicked puppy. “I know the renegade dance, but I didn’t wanna tell you!”
Camie rears back to stare at him in betrayal, but Katsuki’s guilty eyes have her cooing.
“Oh, you poor baby.” she murmurs. “I’m so giving you shit for this later, but I can’t be mad when you’re drunk.”
They sink to the floor and babble about TikTok dances for another few minutes. He distantly registers giving her his username, something that he’ll no doubt regret later.
“Photos!” Camie hollers a while later. “Get in, babes, it’s photo time!”
Sober Katsuki would shove her away.
Drunk Katsuki beams, letting Camie press a kiss to his cheek as he throws a peace sign for the camera.
Shouto looks vaguely ill, his smile looking more like a grimace.
Inasa, whose lack of hair renders him unable to wear butterfly clips, has them clipped to his eyebrows instead.
After what feels like a thousand photos, Camie jolts to her feet.
“We need a good group photo.” she announces, before disappearing into the crowd. She reappears moments later with a random girl in tow.
“Alright babes, let’s pose.”
They take photos for another hour, Katsuki growing progressively sleepy and drunk as time passes.
“I fuckin’ love you guys!” he announces blissfully, reaching up to pat Inasa’s cheek shakily. “You’re all great!”
He wakes up the next morning feeling like shit.
It’s like a million knives are embedded in his temple, and there’s an alarm droning somewhere with each ring sending another shock of pain through his skull.
“Turn that shit off.” he rasps through a too-dry throat, arm sluggishly lifting to bat at the noise without opening his eyes. It connects with something soft, and there’s a groan. He hits at the soft object insistently.
“Turn it off.” he mutters. “Fuckin’ bitch.”
The object groans again, and Katsuki identifies it as Shouto. There’s rustling, before the beeping finally stops, and fucking Deku’s voice is echoing on loudspeaker.
“H-hey, Todoroki? I, uh, don’t want to intrude, I know you have your own life and all, but, um… I was wondering if you were doing okay? Your Instagram post last night was a little… out of character. Obviously, I’m not trying to police what you post on social media, but I was just a little concerned as to-”
His rambles are cut off by Katsuki taking the phone out of Shouto’s grip and pressing at random buttons on the screen through squinted bleary eyes until the call is cut.
“Fuckin’ bitch.” he says again. “Fuck.”
He drops the phone and slumps back down.
They lie in silence for a moment, in what Katsuki realises is Camie’s bedroom. Shouto is sprawled next to Katsuki, while Inasa is lying on his stomach on a futon, snoring lightly. Camie is curled across Shouto and Katsuki’s legs carelessly, still donning her oversized vampire suit as she snoozes away.
“What’d you post?” Katsuki asks finally.
Shouto sighs. “Dunno.”
The blonde lifts a hand to take his phone from the bedstand, only to see he has what seems like an unending list of notifications. At the top, there are over ten missed calls from Ashido and Kirishima.
He groans, but calls back the red head anyway. Not even one ring into the call, Kirishima is picking up with a frantic, “Bakugou?!”
He manages a hoarse grunt in response.
“Dude, what the hell, you and Todoroki got smashed last night!” Kirishima cries, voice loud enough to make both Katsuki and Shouto wince.
“What d’you mean?” Katsuki murmurs, holding the phone away from his ear.
“Dude, just check Instagram!” Kirishima insists, and Katsuki huffs before hanging up wordlessly and scrolling to the mentioned app. He has over 200 notifications, most of them about comments on posts he’s been tagged in.
Todoroki, who has never posted on Instagram once in the two years since he created his account, now has a singular photo. Camie’s also added a post on her main account, which has something near eight thousand fucking followers.
[Photo: A blurry close up image of Katsuki’s leg. The hem of a UA cheerleading skirt is visible at the top of the image near his thigh, and the skin from his knee and below is covered in a white knee-high sock.]
Liked by urarakaochako and 92 others
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urarakaochako what does this mean???
kamidenk TELL ME YOU DID NOT GET LAID HOLY SHIT TODOBRO
midorizu Is that… Kacchan’s leg?
ashidom i'm not even gonna ask how you know that
kirishima_ei bro what???
View 6 previous replies
kirishima_ei WHAT IS GOING ON???
kamidenk WHAT THE HELL
bkg_kts ily shou (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡
View 8 previous replies
ashidom WERE U HACKED?????
serohanta I’M FUCKING TERRIFIED RIGHT NOW
camieutshi BABIES <3
9 hours ago
[Photo 1: Katsuki, Inasa, Shouto and Camie are huddled together on the couch. Katsuki has his arm wrapped around Camie’s neck, clutching a half-empty bottle of beer. His other hand is raised in a loose peace sign as he beams at the camera brightly. There is an array of multicoloured butterfly clips in his hair, and Camie’s lips are pressed to his cheek. Behind the two, Inasa is grinning with butterfly clip-adorned eyebrows. Shouto is grimacing, eyes unfocused. He looks vaguely ill.]
[Photo 2: Inasa holds Katsuki in a bridal carry, mid-laugh. Katsuki is smiling happily at the camera and waving his pompom in the air with the hand that isn’t wrapped around Inasa’s neck. Shouto is crouched beside them, pointing at Katsuki’s outstretched and bare legs with an expression of utter wonder. Camie is throwing what look like actual gang signs, her makeup smudged and hair tousled.]
[Video 3: Katsuki is chasing after a terrified middle-aged man in his cheerleader outfit, brandishing his pompoms like weapons as he yells violently across the street.
“Should we stop him?” Shouto asks quietly in the background. There’s a pause.
“Nah, the guy shouldn’t have catcalled him. He deserves it.” Camie replies finally from behind the camera.
There’s soft snickering as Katsuki finally catches the man in the distance and begins to beat him over the head with his pompoms, before the video abruptly cuts.]
[Photo 4: Katsuki is sitting on a couch, looking visibly less inebriated than he is in the previous two photos. Shouto is sprawled on the ground at his feet in a rumpled snowman onesie, arms wrapped around Katsuki’s thighs with visible tearstains on his flushed cheeks.]
Liked by bkg_kts and 539 others
camieutshi: MY BABES
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bkg_kts my fav bitch <3
camieutshi BABY <3
takak0_na the cheerleader can get it
masakidai_ hey uh what’s the cheerleader boy’s @? asking for a friend
ryota_kk what a day to be bisexual
7 hours ago
Katsuki flops back onto the bed with a drawn-out groan.
“I hate Halloween.” Shouto mumbles from beside him.
Katsuki could not fucking agree more.