#anyway yeah goddamn those costumes are great

[rottenaero]

What if Steve got kicked out of his parent’s house after season 2?

He was already on thin ice after s1, with the beers and his fight with Jonathan, but after he got into ANOTHER fight with Billy they’re just kinda like, ‘pack your shit and leave’

And after a few weeks of living out of his car in the school parking lot, Eddie notices him after Hellfire and just kinda like, offers his house as a place to stay.

Of course Steve is like, ‘nah, ill be fine’ because he doesn’t want to freeload, but Eddie is absolutely not having it and convinces him that he wouldn’t be, and that he can pay him and do chores and shit if he really feels that bad about it.

Then Steve just starts living with him, of course there are rules, don’t invite people over, don’t talk about Eddie’s business, and don’t talk about the shit in his room.

The rest is the standard criteria, don’t bring animals in, don’t burn the house down, blah blah blah.

Course Wayne is a bit mad about this random guy with the last name Harrington at first, but the guy makes him coffee before he leaves for work, and is willing to put on a goddamn sailor costume to pay help pay the rent, so eventually they become acquaintances.

Eventually turning into the two watching sports on the tv and laughing at Eddies antics.

Thing is, during this whole thing, no one knows they live together. Dustin and the party don’t get much more than i moved out with a friend after the first time they ask to hang out at his house, and Hellfire just knows he has a roommate, not that its Steve, because all his shit is in the living room and hes always working when they’re over.

One day, mid-lunch, they decide to hang out at Eddie’s after school and he's all cool with it but is like ‘wait, my roommates off, let me go ask them if its okay’ and they're like ‘sure, okay, I wonder who it is?’

Then he waltzes straight up to Steve Harrington, who’s sitting by Nancy and Jonathan, and asks.

“Hellfires coming over afterschool, you good with that?”

“Yeah sure, do whatever, its your damn house, I can get out your hair if you want?”

“Nah nah, its all good, want you to meet ‘em anyway. Hey hey, wanna sit with us today?”

“Sure.”

Then Eddie heads back to the now silent Hellfire table (actually the whole cafeteria is a little silent) and sits down in his seat, Steve sitting in the empty one next to him.

Hellfire is absolutely confused, not just because Steve lives with him, but because of the very talked upon rumors about Eddie being gay, and how very true they were, and the fact that as a former-king, Steve should know that.

Steve however, seems very unconcerned with those rumors because for as close as Eddie keeps getting to him, even holding his bicep at some point, he acts very chill and relaxed, even leaning into him at some points.

Hellfire eventually calm down, and go to his house after school, and around 10 they decide to just stay the night. Eddie gives them a thumbs up, and turns to Steve.

“You’re bunking with me tonight.”

“Cool.”

Gareth starts panicking because there is a very obvious pride flag above one of his posters and he may not have seen it before and Eddie is so getting beaten up.

Except none of that happens. They wake up early that morning and Steve starts getting ready for work, and is about to leave when he turns to Eddie with a smirk.

“What, no goodbye kiss? Too dorky to do in-front of you friends?” And Eddie strolls right past the flabbergasted Hellfire and plants one on his temple.

“Goodbye o-great-king-of-assholery!”

Gareth quite literally chokes.

(What makes this even better? They’re not even dating, thats just Steve-being-Steve)

Part 2

Ao3

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 17

part 1 | part 16 | ao3

Heat rolls through Steve’s gut; low and quick, a vicious flare, and then he coughs and looks away. “Jesus, man," he splutters, "learn to take a joke.”

“Mmm-hm.” Eddie's smug smirk spreads wide, grows teeth; gotcha bitch, and Steve’s about to tell him to fuck off when he claps his hands to his thighs and abruptly stands up. Does a big stretch, swinging his arms out side to side, reaching overhead until his back makes a noise like a twisted sheet of bubble wrap.

“Holy shit!” Steve frowns. “You’re gonna break your spine.”

Eddie gives him a flippant smile. “That's the idea. Anyway...” He pretzels himself up again, groaning as his neck and shoulders pop. “Seeing as we’re trapped in here for the foreseeable future, you wanna do what the little psychos asked? Play twenty questions or have a heart-to-heart or whatever?”

“Seriously? And just give them what they want?”

Eddie shrugs. “Seems like the fastest way out of here, so yeah.”

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“Please. You negotiate with them all the time." He folds forward at the hips, looking at Steve upside down between his legs, and twists a curl around his pinky. "Those kids have you wrapped around their grubby little fingers."

"They do not!"

"They totally do. Besides," he swings back upright, "I’ll negotiate with anyone if it gets me back home to my girl.”

"Oh." Steve stumbles at that. "Didn't know you had a girlfriend.”

Eddie laughs big and bright, shaking his hair all over the place. “Yeah, Harrington, I have a girlfriend. You're funny. Y'know, Henderson could have saved us a lot of time here if he'd just told me you were fun—”

“Okay, then who’s your girl?” Steve interrupts with a huff, because Eddie’s just hopping around in circles while he laughs like Steve's a fucking moron for making a totally reasonable assumption, and he doesn't understand what's so goddamn funny about it.

“My girl, Harrington,” he all but coos when he collects himself, “is my guitar.” He bites his lip and mimes playing a riff; Steve doesn’t know shit about guitar, but he knows that Eddie’s fingers are quick, nimble and impressive as they jitter through the air. “We’ve got a show this weekend. Like, a real one this time, not just playing to three drunks at the Hideout.”

“Cool,” Steve says, looking away from his rings. “Congrats, man. You any good?”

“You could say that.” Eddie’s mouth goes smug and pleased, genuine pride shining in his big eyes when he rocks back on his heels. “The frat that booked us seems to think so, anyway.”

“Oh, shit!" Now Steve's impressed, because it's the weekend before Halloween, and that means, "College costume party.”

“Of course you’d be excited about that.”

“Hey, great place to get laid,” Steve shrugs.

Eddie chokes on his own spit. “You’re kind of a slut, you know that?”

“Rude,” Steve says mildly. He's not a slut; he's an opportunist.

The ground's starting to hurt his ass, so he stands up to join Eddie's impromptu yoga session. Eddie leans a hip against the workbench, folding his arms over his chest and giving Steve room to move.

His eyes flit to his hemline when it rides up on a stretch. "Would you..." he clears his throat. "Would you want to come?"

"Huh?" Steve twists around.

"To the show," Eddie adds, ducking his head to hide his face behind his hair. "You'd have to cram into the back with Frankie and the drum kit, but uh..."

Steve lets himself picture it for a moment, some alternate dimension where he's allowed to say yes: the winding highway to Indy, a van full of dudes cracking jokes and fighting over who gets to pick the music next, losing himself in the thrum of a crowd while he drinks and dances and watches Eddie on stage.

His throat feels tight, suddenly. He reaches for the flask and takes another sip of whiskey. "Don't all your bandmates hate me?"

"I mean... not any more than I do." Eddie's answer is quiet, his eyes swimming with candlelight; Steve doesn't know when they moved closer, when a hush settled over the room, but it feels like...

"Yeah?" he hedges, his voice barely above a whisper. Then he steps out onto the ledge; icy cliffside, slippery holds. The mountains are so much scarier than the deep sea. "And how... How much is that?"

His pulse kicks in his chest. Echoes down to his wrist, a nervous current beneath his skin. Eddie's eyes are so soft. Big and brown and dark. Dark like the deep woods; endless; sort of mesmerizing.

"Steve, I—"

The cellar doors shriek on their hinges.

—

part 18

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[lonelywretchjervistetch]

Okay, you like birds and you like superheroes, so you seem uniquely qualified to answer a question that’s bothered me for awhile: WHY is Red Robin named that when there’s already a Red Hood AND a Robin. It just. . . Blends with the rest of the post robin personas so poorly

(If the Crow wasn’t already taken I would have suggested that since Tim has that whole thing going on with the court of Owls and those two species notoriously hate each other.)

So if you could redesign Tim Drakes vigilante persona what would be your pick?

Hoo boy, now there's a goddamn question, isn't there? I answer it at the end, I promise, but I wanted to explain my reasoning. So, yeah, scroll down if you want the answer quick.

But OK, I can answer your first question really easily: why is Tim Drake called Red Robin if Red Hood already exists? Easy: because Red Robin came first. And I don't mean that as a concept or nursery rhyme or expression; I mean that a Robin, one of Batman's sidekicks, taking up the identity of Red Robin, existed first, complete with the costume. BEHOLD! Mark Waid and Alex Ross' brilliant comic book Kingdom Come, one of the most important DC Comics stories ever published, and arguably one of its most iconic near-future stories!

First published in 1996, this story came out after Tim Drake was introduced in comics, and well before Jason Todd came back to life as Red Hood. And...is actually Dick Grayson in the future, not Tim Drake. In fact, Tim never appears in Kingdom Come for some reason, but a future version of Damian surprisingly does! Ask Mark Waid, not me. Anyway, when DC introduced Damian Wayne into the main continuity, they realized two Robins weren't going to do. SO, they reintroduced the identity of Red Robin, and this time gave it to...Jason Todd. Yeah, Jason actually picked up the identity in main continuity first, during the Countdown to Final Crisis storyline. He was given the costume by Batman from an alternate universe that was a utopian society yaddayaddayadda, you get the point. Jason had it first.

But, that didn't last very long, and Jason became Red Hood again after that event was done. And so, Red Robin was eventually picked up by...Ulysses Armstrong. Yeah, the identity was stolen by a Nightwing and Robin villain previously known as the General, who was basically a child genius that used the identity to...well, kill Robin. Ulysses is an asshole, it's a whole thing. Anyway, after this event, FINALLY, Tim Drake takes up the mantle of Red Robin. So, yeah, Tim is the THIRD Red Robin in continuity. Which, now that you mention it, DOES make it odd that Tim would adopt the identity after it was stained by Ulysses. But, DC editorial wanted the Red Robin character to exist in canon, and Tim was the only character that made sense to wear the mantle. It's a reference for reference's sake, which isn't great, admittedly.

But, OK, you're asking me what I would do if given the reigns to Tim Drake's identity after Damian Wayne essentially steals the mantle of Robin. OK, Anonymous, I'll play your game. And I actually do have an answer to this question. First off, what does Tim Drake represent amongst the Robins, especially compared to the others and their superhero identities? All of the Robins are reflections of Batman himself, often somewhat unintentionally. Their superhero identities similarly reflect this. Let's give the two most prominent examples.

Nightwing is the superhero. Dick Grayson, originally, was the kid sidekick of Batman, and embraced that with a lightness that Bruce could never manifest. As a result, his ideals were that of the traditional superhero: the day-saving good guy who does the right thing for the disadvantaged, old chum. So, his adult persona reflects this. It's a reference to Superman (Nightwing was originally a superhero and Krypton that Superman told a young Dick about early in their friendship), and it's a sort-of cheesy heroic name that also references Batman. Nightwing, savior of Bludhaven! Has a ring to it.

Red Hood is a vigilante against the law. Jason Todd, originally, was a little street punk who stole the tires off of the Batmobile. He's a criminal. When he becomes Robin, he embraces the vigilante identity by also embracing his temper, becoming a rougher-around-the-edges Robin who doesn't follow the rules very well. And then, he dies at the Joker's hand. When he comes back to life, he embraces the idea of being a brutal vigilante that doesn't care about the rules or morality, essentially becoming a criminal in the process. And so, when he has to choose the name of a criminal, why not name himself after the man who created him: Joker. So, he names himself Red Hood, which is also the Joker's old identity before getting acid dipped. Maybe this was on purpose, maybe it was subconscious, but it doesn't matter. He wants to be a lawbreaker, so he gets the identity of a lawbreaker.

Damian Wayne is the martial artist. To be fair, Damian still hasn't come into his own as an adult, since he's...well, a teenager. Because of that, we don't know what his identity is going to be, other than...well, Batman. Yeah, he's quite literally the son of Batman, so it does make sense that he'd become the next Batman. But again, that is yet to be seen. In terms of being a reflection of his father, though, he's the overdisciplined and overserious martial artist, and also...a child. Yeah, no offence to Bruce, but he's still in many ways a child in a mask. And so, Damian originally represented that. But now, as he's grown older in comics, he instead reflects the self-assured determination of his father, as well as the superior martial arts skills. And that finally leaves one major aspect unaccounted for, and you know what it is.

Tim Drake is the detective. Look, Tim is known as the "smart Robin" for a reason...because he is. He's the smart Robin. But in terms of being a reflection of Batman, he represents the Dark Knight's more Holmesian aspects. He's the inquisitive analyst, the tactician, the observer, the planner. So, whatever Tim's adult persona is, it should reflect him as a detective and tactician. And here's a question: should it be a bird at all? I mean, Nightwing only evokes a bird, and Red Hood definitely isn't a bird. So maybe Tim should actually be the only one to keep the bird thing in earnest. But if he does...maybe he could be a little smarter about it.

Y'know, I like your suggestion of "Crow", Anonymous. Smart bird, love the enemy of owls point, too. But Crow feels...off. It's not a great superhero name, as you pointed out. Of course, we're really looking for the name of a good detective. So, maybe you have the right family, just the wrong member. SOme people I've seen suggest Jackdaw, which...come to think of it, may just be a Reddit joke, but either way, I don't like it? So, instead, how about...

The Rook (Corvus frugilegus) is a Eurasian corvid known for its ability to solve problems. It's often seen in the presence of similar, related birds (like the Jackdaw), and lives in nests called rookeries. They have the ability to use complex tools, and even understand the concept of gravity. But perhaps the biggest reason why I think Tim should take up the name Rook, other than the fact that his hideout already has a name now (the Rookery), and the fact that he can keep the "R" on his costume, AND the fact that Rook is also a pretty good codename for a detective or spy...is the double meaning.

After all...I feel like Tim is the kind of person who plays a lot of chess to harness his skills in planning and tactics, amongst other games. He probably has played a lot of games with Alfred, maybe with Bruce. And another name for the castle piece is, of course, the rook. A double-meaning, and BOTH work for the character. And for some reason, I've never seen anybody suggest this as a name for Tim Drake. Maybe I haven't looked in the right places, but thinking on it now...I honestly really want this name for him in the future. Give him a dark costume, maybe replace the red with blue, or even give him the Red Robin costume, recolored to reflect this identity instead! The possibilities abound, really.

Hopefully that was a satisfying answer for you! May not work for everybody, but that's what I would do if I were in charge of Time Drake! Definitely not Drake, or Sparrow, or the other names he's been given in the last few years, just sayin'.

[wrishwrosh]

nosferatreview! 10/10, banger, exactly what i was hoping for, histfic master class, no notes (except all the following notes)

it’s a hard movie to spoil bc it actually very closely follows the plot of a movie that came out 120 years ago but slapping it under a cut anyway

ofc im extremely into eggars’ schtick of deep, embedded, and carefully researched historical accuracy as a driver of storytelling rather than an impediment to it; taking the deeply held beliefs of historical people and presenting them to the audience as completely true and justified; etc, but i was kinda bored by the northman (eggars whole thing is just a little too self-serious for a movie that ends in a totally uncamp nude volcano swordfight to land with me god bless). however THIS movie was a return to form!! eggars is clearly really interested in sex and specifically sexual repression and specifically systemic historical repressions of women’s sexuality. and horror movies where The Monster Is Sex are everywhere, and historical fiction grappling with repressed women is everywhere, and it would be easy for a hack to combine these things into something really stupid. good thing eggars isnt a hack! good thing eggars is a freak!

the vampire here is sex! he is desire! vampirism isnt contagious, it’s a pure representation of contagion (a theme i found really fascinating in the original nosferatu that this movie sharpens in a very interesting way). vampirism isnt sexy or desirable, it’s sex and desire. drinking blood isn’t fucking, it isn’t like fucking, it’s some third thing that is more of fucking and more like fucking than any actual sex. i will be thinking more about the gendered dimensions of the vampire unsex scenes for a while bc the movie is doing a lot there. vampirism is also rats, which is cool. you hear “5,000 live rats” in the press junket but you really don’t realize how many goddamn rats that is until you see it on screen! wow! rats!

also of course the production design is bangin. eggars is collaborating again with hero costume designer linda muir and ofc all the wacky 1830s looks are totally on point. in one of the 10000 great scenes where a character is standing in front of an open window looking mournful in her underwear you can see the 1830s sleeve pads!! hell yeah! also they are not afraid to put silly Romantic-era hair looks on all their actors which i appreciate. aaron taylor johnson in particular looks like a fashion plate, which i found fitting for his weird ass performance as shipbuilder barbie.

a final note for those of us with a pedant’s heart: i was prepared to get up in arms about an early intertitle that said “germany 1838” bc there was no such THING as germany yet in 1838, prewar european borders is something im SENSITIVE about and also i think it would have been a productive destabilizing period detail to give us an actual duchy or electorate or what have you. get a landgravitiate involved, cowards. however i trust eggars and was rewarded for that trust when nicholas hoult signed his name on a contract in kurrentschrift!!! a bananas choice im obsessed with! instead of making his name intelligible to the audience by writing in modern german/english cursive script they used the century+ defunct and now-illegible handwriting style that a literate german would have used in the era. i was hooting and hollering. banger!!!!!

a coughing-blood-into-handkerchief period film in which nobody uses a handkerchief, they just cough blood up raw all over everything!! hell yeah! everyone go see it stat.

NOSFERATU

[rphelperblog]

Steve Harrington Rp Meme

inspired by @recoveringjock​ feel free to edit or change pronouns-

"I love KFC... It’s finger-lickin' good."

“She threw it with her mind. She has superpowers, keep up.”

“i’m not saying that you have no game, I’m just saying you can’t beat me in the girl department.”

“Oh, screw him. [muses’s name] is her daddy now.”

If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great.”

Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me?”

 “I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry? The hell am I sorry for?” 

“Ahoy Ladies! Didn’t see you there ”

“Well... you know... I could take him out.”

”I like boobies. You like boobies.”

“you think that I am a spy in a sailors costume?”

“Wait a second, are we even allowed to be here?”

“She sounds like a muppet giving birth.”

"How many children are you friends with?"

“if you die, I die.”

“How many times- I don’t do drugs, dad. It’s only marijuana.”

“You are not falling in love with this girl? Are you?”

”Know who pauses Fast Times at 53 minutes, 5 seconds? People who like boobies.”

"I just... I wanna help."

Your new best friend who you think is cooler than me because he plays your nerdy game?"

Then why is it called 'Back to the Future'?!”

“That kids gotta get his ego in check.”

“Always the babysitter. Always the goddamn babysitter.”

“How come this random girl is the only one helping me?”

“I’m stealthy, like a ninja.” 

“Yeah it’s me Don’t cream your pants”

“I may be a pretty shitty boyfriend, but turns out I’m actually a pretty damn good babysitter.” 

”The obvious things are not what people observe.’ Or…’ do…don’t observe.’ Or…Sherlock Holmes.”

Huh that's weird I don't know her."

He’s missing bones and stuff. He can bend like Gumbo.”

“How do you know it’s not just a lizard?”

“Yeah, that’s a no.”

“Is this really necessary?”

As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything. I feel confident in my ability to continue not to know what is going on.”

You're beautiful.”

"Thank you. For giving my head the biggest thump of Its life two years ago. I needed It. It's changed my life. And now I'm crawling forward. slowly."

“hello ladies...”

“Screw Company Policy. You Know That”

"Man, kids are the worst! Who needs 'em, anyway?"

"She’s only gonna break your heart, and you’re way too young for that."

"Yeah, Farrah Fawcett. you tell anyone I just told you that and your ass is grass."

“Something’s coming. Something hungry for blood. A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness. It is almost here”

"I said does everyone understand that?!"

“Hey. Hey. Hey! This is not happening.” 

“This is crazy, That is actually… This is crazy. THIS IS CRAZY ”

” It’s Fabergé Organics. Use the shampoo and the conditioner, and when your hair’s damp—it’s not wet, okay? When it’s damp, do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray.”

"You look great, and you’re gonna slay 'em dead."

With their quickness, our game plan to start was to slow them down a little bit, play some zone. They hit some threes and at that point we just felt we had to change it up. We went man-to-man, we went with a different lineup tonight. We just went with all quick ball-handling type players.”

We’re out there where we hope to be pristine into eternity.”

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

[candidapple]

yeah the octavninelle costumes are great but i literally cannot tear my eyes away from jack's cleavage every time he's in his pirate outfit. i have not registered a single damn word he has said in this entire event.

in jack's defense, he's not swanning around campus with his tits out for the sake of it, though one could be forgiven for thinking he'd just walked off the cover of a dog-eared, pirate-themed romance novel, you know, like the paperback with the cracked spine and mildewy smell that you smuggled off your grandmother's attic bookshelf in middle school and which would teach you your first c-words, but anyway. no, the best boy's not some common pumpkin spice slut! he's wearing that shirt unbuttoned to his navel for our sakes, alright?

imagine the carnage if he'd tried to do it all the way up. can you hear the soft twanging snap of a thread bravely fighting for and ultimately losing its life? can you picture the buttons flying everywhere, pinging off walls and ceiling like so much shrapnel? those things are projectile weapons just waiting for their chance to take out some poor unsuspecting bystander's goddamn eye, and jack, noble jack, and his choice to only "wear" that shirt in the loosest sense of the word is our one line of defense against them. he did that for US.

[carpe-mamilia]

#(the joke is that the costumes are SCRUPULOUSLY accurate for no reason at all) #like if I'm remembering the Abby Cox video correctly they copied a really specific type of smock popular with British working-men #of the day #for a costume Rizzo wears in one five-minute scene

director of The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992): okay we need to costume both our puppets and humans in something festive and Victorian. but you know. no need to go crazy. it’s a kids’ movie, after all

costume designer, snorting a line of coke off an 1843 issue of Le Bon Ton fashion magazine: right, right

[thegreatimpersonator]

random full collected thoughts on midnights

bejeweled immediately a fav just for the way she says shimmered. it satisfied my brain. also am a sucker for soft cutesy taylor songs i feel like she's gotten better at them!!! like stay stay stay is a target commercial song but gorgeous is camp. anyways

why does her face in that one teaser with the big hair and yellow dress look exactly like her face in the speak now era. and i was thinking about this and i saw her wear the speak now costume and my soul gravitated a lil bit

took me so long that the daughter girl from the anti-hero video was caroline from new girl!!! that was a great casting choice imo

speaking of anti-hero that line about her getting killed for the money in the will is just so funny to me. like did she just make it up and be like oh this is a good line plus it will be a good scene in a mv or did she actually have a dream like that and was like welp. time to write a song about this

cat eye sharp enough to kill a man one of the lyrics that actually made me laugh out loud (plus the dickhead lyric) it's so cringy and taylor that it's funny

actually a lot of lines on the album made me laugh out loud. her songwriting has progressed from really deep and poetic to really deep and poetic but also humor lol how fun

why is hits different a bonus track i need to put it on repeat right this second (i know WHY but like still. seriously. the 2000s romcom vibes are immaculate that's my favorite brand of movies)

not the 70's vibes i was expecting but still! slapped! (also more poppy than i thought but hey i'm not complaining)

i thought it was so interesting that there are parts of songs (samples???) that sound like her past songs! i like how TS10 is kind of like a culminating milestone album type thing idk words anymore

not a thought just 10 for TS10

sorry this was so long lmao i hope you have a wonderful day sarah!!!

best way is to respond in the same format:

it's like you can hear her smile when she says the word shimmer it's so cute i love it to

i think that speak now purple dress pic is for you're on your own kid mv when she's going through her career 1000%

i didnt know that i knew she looked familiar!!

the line basically means that she's afraid she's gonna have a bad relationship with her expended family in the future, and that they'll use her for their own fame and fortune and they dont actually care about her. idk if it's an actual dream she had and she just thought is summed it up well or thought about it while writing.

same that line is a little cringey it's giving 2013 tumblr but the rest of the song has good lines so it's forgivable.

same i love that this album deals with self-reflection but also really shows how trauma and humor can mix really well. karma is a cat. sexy baby. thats hilarious.

yess! i thought the same thing. very early 2000s rom com and i bet it'll be on streaming in like a week but i need it asap get on it swift earn your last name.

yeah a lot of people are mad at her for the aesthetic/sound disconnect but honestly i dont care she looks great and the album sounds good too so. a good photoshoot and vibe is something we have been starved of for so long lol.

yes i think thats so cool. i've seen so many people just forget teh whole concept of the album and are like?? why do these songs sound like other ones?? like it's because she's going back into her career and referencing songs from the times those moments happened helloooo.

10/10 like a goddamn acrobat

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring: chapter 3 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Bakugo wakes up with his hearing and a bunch of questions.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of gore, and adult language.

A/N: Sorry for the wait on ch 3, I had to work over the weekend. Anyway, hope you enjoy! 

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Bakugo woke up confused, disoriented, and pissed off. 

He bolted upright, the taste of smoke and ash still on his tongue, but when he whipped his head from side to side, there was no fire, no burning asphalt, no villain, only the empty, dark expanse of his apartment. 

But something was still tugging at him, fucking incessantly, and it took him a moment to realize it was his phone alarm. 

Red eyes flicked to the device on his bedside table, and even though its continuous siren was like nails on a chalkboard, Bakugo found himself unable to move, unable to stop it. 

Because he could hear the alarm. Clearly. Loudly. 

He hadn’t been able to hear his phone alarm in weeks, not really. It was nothing more than a muffled tone that petered out toward the end as it rose in pitch and frequency. Thankfully, Bakugo’s internal alarm got him up most days around the sun, but he’d been late to morning patrols a handful of times. 

But now… 

Numbly, Bakugo finally reached out and tapped his phone. His ears rang slightly in the ensuing silence, but it was barely perceptible, nothing like the perpetual buzzing he’d been living with, like a hive of bees had taken up residence in his head. 

The quiet, after so long, was almost… unsettling. 

And it was all because of that woman. He was sure of it. 

Bakugo pressed his lips into a thin line as he thought about you, the memories of last night flooding back. The blurry image of your face, crouched over him, splattered in a thin mist of red blood and dusted with white plaster. He couldn’t remember much from right after he blasted that villain into the fucking dirt. He remembered the feel of glass breaking around him, and pain, a lot of fucking pain, but then it was black until you appeared. When he’d opened his eyes and met yours, he recalled thinking he should be in more pain, but then you spoke to him and derailed all coherent thought. 

Because he’d heard you. Clear as fucking day. 

That immediately drew his attention, and so did the blood all over your hands. 

There was a lot of it. Way too fucking much for nicking yourself on some glass or whatever bullshit excuse you gave. And Bakugo knew it was bullshit. You weren’t a convincing liar. Well, maybe to some idiot extras you would be, but not to him. He clocked the way you stuttered, the way you fidgeted and averted your eyes. And when you looked at him… fuck, your face was so goddamn guilty. 

Why, he had no idea. 

But he did know one thing. 

You had a healing quirk. There was no other explanation. 

Even if he hadn’t just miraculously recovered the hearing that a doctor told him he would never get back, there were a lot of other little discrepancies. His left arm, for one. Bakugo remembered how it felt when the villain’s asphalt wrapped around his limb, the burning, scalding agony of it. But now, the skin was just pink and barely blistered in some places. 

Then there was the blood. 

When he’d gotten home after ditching the crime scene, Bakugo had immediately beelined for his bathroom to take a shower. But, when he stripped off his hoodie, he realized it was heavier than it should be right before he noticed it was dripping onto his floor. Dripping blood. Without thinking, he’d wrung the hoodie out on the bathroom floor, and a fuck ton of red liquid seeped out of it. 

He had immediately dropped the jacket and started scanning his body in the bathroom mirror, but besides the shallow gash on his abdomen, the burned arm, and a few other minor scrapes and bruises, he was uninjured. 

But… his back was coated in red, and so were the seat of his dark jeans and boxer briefs. It was almost like… he’d been lying in a pool of blood. 

So, you had to be a healer. You just had to be. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to confirm this since the cops had been circling you like vultures. He also hadn’t wanted to be bitched at by any more heroes, or the fucking media, so he made himself scarce. 

But he needed to see you again. Needed to hear the truth from your own mouth. 

And maybe he could coax you into a deal. 

The doctor Bakugo spoke to yesterday obviously hadn’t known what the hell he was talking about. He had made it sound impossible to fix the blond’s ears, and yet you’d somehow done it easily, in the middle of a fucking battlefield. 

With that kind of power, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about going deaf or designing stupid hearing aids with some company. 

With that kind of power, Dynamight would become Japan’s Number One Hero in no time. 

But first, he had to find you. 

Resolved, Bakugo shoved the covers off and slid out of bed, but before he could make it to his bathroom, someone started knocking on his front door. 

No, not knocking. Banging. It sounded like they were trying to break the fucking door down. 

“Bakubroooooooo!” 

“Gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Bakugo grumbled as he padded to his front door. He was only dressed in boxer briefs, but that’s what the idiot got for barging over so early in the damn morning. 

The banging persisted, growing louder and more fervent. 

“I’m fuckin’ comin!” the blond shouted just before he undid the deadbolt and wrenched open the door. 

Eijiro Kirishima, dressed in his Red Riot costume, blinked on the other side of the threshold, his fist still raised to knock. 

“What the fuck, bro?” he asked after a moment of just staring at Bakugo. 

The blond immediately scowled. “That’s my fuckin’ line. What are you doing breaking down my door at six in the damn morning?” 

“Excuse me?” his patrol and agency partner scoffed. “I’m obviously coming to check that you’re not dead since you’ve been MIA for over twenty-four hours.” 

“What?” Bakugo frowned. “I saw you yesterday morning for patrol.” 

“Noooooo,” Kirishima drawled like Bakugo was a particularly stupid child. “That was two days ago, bro. Then that night, I see you all over the damn news, and no one could get ahold of you all day yesterday. I would have come to check on you sooner, but I’ve been having to play damage control with the media because someone decided to blow up a residential neighborhood.” 

“Two days?” Bakugo echoed with a furrowed brow. He’d slept that long? 

“Have you been passed out this whole time, dude?” Kirishima groaned as he shouldered his way into the apartment. “I guess that means you got none of our messages?” 

“Our?” the blond grumbled as he closed the door and followed the redhead to the kitchen bar. 

“Yeah, Denki, Mina, Sero.” Kirishima waved his hand dismissively, marching over to the counter where Bakugo kept the fruit and selecting an apple from the wire basket. “I even asked Izuku to message you, just to see if he’d actually get a rise and response from you.” 

“I don’t need stupid Deku knowing about my problems, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo growled before he stomped over to his fridge to see what he had to eat because he was suddenly starving. 

“Well, that would imply I know your problems, Oh Great Lord Dynamight,” Kirishima snorted and took a bite of apple. “So, what the fuck happened the other night?” 

“I blew up a residential neighborhood,” the blond deadpanned as he turned on his stove, cracking a few eggs into a skillet. 

“Yeah, I saw that. I was more wondering about what led up to it.” 

“What the fuck do you think led up to it?” Bakugo snapped, rummaging through his cupboard for seasonings. “I was walking home from getting a drink, and a damn villain just popped up in front of me.” 

“From what I heard, there were other heroes there, too,” the redhead mumbled around another bite of apple. 

“Yeah, fuckin’ useless extras,” Bakugo sneered as he started to whisk his eggs with a pair of chopsticks, throwing in some leftover white rice and a bit of nori. “They obviously weren’t getting anywhere, and the bastard was tearing up the street, so I stepped in.” 

“To finish destroying the street?” Kirishima cocked an eyebrow, chewing noisily. 

“Fuck off,” the blond said with an eyeroll. 

Internally, though, Bakugo knew the redhead was right. He’d been sloppy, careless, probably still borderline drunk. But he’d just been so angry about the doctor’s appointment, his fucked-up ears, his bleak and silent future. He had just wanted to break something, hurt someone, consequences be damned. 

Except now the consequences were catching up to him. 

Fuck, he didn’t even want to think about what his citizen’s approval rating must be now. 

Silence stretched between the two pro heroes for several long minutes, in which Bakugo finished making his breakfast and Kirishima finished gnawing on his apple core. The blond quickly shoveled a few bites of eggs and rice into his mouth, but his scarlet eyes kept flicking over to the redhead. 

“How bad?” he finally asked. 

Kirishima, to his credit, had learned how to translate Bakugo’s curt grunts years ago. 

“Actually, if I’m being honest, it’s not that bad,” he sighed, tossing the apple core in the trash and scratching at the back of his head. “Could be worse. From the reports I read, most of the damage—besides the road—is superficial. Broken windows, charred and peeling paint, a few busted cars that we’re still trying to figure out if our insurance or the city’s will pay for. It also helped that you saved two people. That definitely softened the blow.” 

“Two?” Bakugo mumbled around one of his last bites. “I just remember the stupid extra on the street that I shoved out of the way.” 

As the memory flashed through his mind, Bakugo frowned. He’d shoved that extra out of the way and got snatched by a giant asphalt hand for his troubles. The blond’s red eyes dropped to his pink and blotchy left arm and then trailed over to his chest. He recalled the sensation of his ribs snapping under pressure, but now only a mild soreness lingered after he took a deep breath. Yet another inconsistency… 

“Yeah, two,” Kirishima said and drew Bakugo out of his thoughts. “Do you seriously not even remember your own heroics? And that girl had such nice things to say about you, too.” 

“Girl?” Bakugo snapped his head up. “The girl whose… apartment I fell into?” 

“Crashed into, dude,” the redhead snorted, but then he narrowed his eyes as a sly smirk tugged at his lips. “But yeah. Sounds like you remember her, huh?” 

Bakugo didn’t like the smug look on his friend’s face. 

“I remember her fuckin’ yellin’ at me.” The blond scowled. “Like I wrecked her place on purpose and didn’t just save her whole block from a lunatic.” 

“I mean, to be fair, if you crashed into my house, bro, I would have yelled at you, too.” Kirishima grinned. “But don’t worry, she’s fine. In fact, when she called the agency yesterday, she asked for you specifically.” 

“She did? Why?” Did she want to confess her healing quirk? Fuck, were there side effects Bakugo didn’t know about? 

“Bro, seriously.” Kirishima rolled his eyes. “You’re Japan’s Number Two Hero, and you saved her life. And, like Mina keeps telling you, you’re not as ugly when you stop scowling.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo flipped him off before he went to dump the dishes in the sink. 

“Yes, dear.” The redhead smirked. “But, in all seriousness, she called to figure out how to file a claim with our insurance. Or at least that’s what she said, but she also asked how you were doing, and she actually sounded genuinely worried.” 

Worried that a random side effect was going to kill him? Or worried that he would say something about her quirk? She’d obviously hidden it for a reason, tried to lie for a reason. 

And Bakugo was determined to find out just what that reason was. 

“Yeah, well, I’m fine,” he grunted as he rinsed off his plate and put it on the drying rack. “Just a few scrapes and bruises.” 

“I can see that,” Kirishima said as he eyed the butterfly stitches stretched across the gash on Bakugo’s abdomen. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t find you dead in a pool of your own blood. That woulda been a real bummer way to start the morning.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugo muttered before he averted his eyes to the living room window across from him. “So… what did you tell her?” 

“The girl?” 

“No, you’re fuckin’ mom,” the blond scoffed. 

“Oh, speaking of moms, you might want to text Mitsuki. I called her last night after you ignored my billionth text, so she’s probably going crazy wondering where you are.” Kirishima grinned and then immediately dodged out of the way as Bakugo hurled a fork at him. 

“You bastard!” Bakugo hissed. “Now, I’m going to have to see that hag this weekend or she’s gonna fuckin’ barge over here.” 

“Maybe you should turn the ringer up on your phone.” The other hero shrugged, ducking again when Bakugo chucked an apple in his direction. 

The blond scowled at his friend, but he didn’t reply. 

If you and your quirk were the real deal, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about missing a call ever again. 

When Kirishima realized the projectiles had stopped, he popped his head over the back of the couch and smirked. “But to answer your previous question, I told the girl we would handle the insurance claim on our end if she sent us her info. And I didn’t really have anything to tell her about you since, like I’ve said, I thought you were dead. Kinda. I was at least thirty percent sure.” 

“Have you filed the insurance claim?” Bakugo asked. 

“No.” Kirishima shook his head. “She hasn’t sent in the info yet.” 

“Well… we should go get it from her.” 

This caused the redhead’s eyebrows to shoot up into his hairline, and the surprise on his face quickly made Bakugo backtrack. 

“I just… want to get this shitshow over with,” he grumbled as he averted his eyes again, but he could feel a traitorous heat crawling across the bridge of his nose. “The longer her apartment’s all fucked up, the longer the press is gonna rake me over the coals. The hero ranking’s aren’t far off, and I’m not going to lose to Deku again over some stupid broken windows.” 

“Righttttt,” Kirishima drawled, but his tone was mocking. “Okay, well, I know the hotel the police have set her up at. After we swing by the agency, we can head that way… to get her insurance info.” 

He still sounded unconvinced and like he wanted to needle Bakugo more, but the blond changed the subject quickly. 

“Why do we have to go to the agency?” Bakugo asked, and he frowned as he glanced back at his partner. “Even if I lost yesterday, my next scheduled patrol isn’t till tonight.” 

“Oh, I know.” Kirishima nodded solemnly. “But Nao wanted to have… a word with you ASAP, if I confirmed you weren’t dead.” 

“Fuckkkkkkk,” Bakugo groaned as he dropped his head back. If there was anything Bakugo hated more than the press, it was his actual PR manager. That old hag was good at her job, which meant she was always up Bakugo’s ass about something, and he knew she was going to have a field day with this shitfest. 

“Yeah, I’d recommend coffee and preemptive painkillers before we head in,” Kirishima said. “Plus, some putting on clothes. Maybe we can stop on the way and get her something sweet as a bribe.” 

“No amount of sugar is gonna make that bitch nice to me,” Bakugo grumbled before he spun on heel and started marching to his bedroom. 

“Maybe flowers then?” the redhead shouted after him. 

Bakugo slammed the door in response. 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bakugo growled around his cargo, kicking his foot out at Kirishima. “Why did I listen to you? I’ve had to go shopping twice today now.” 

“Come on,” his friend laughed as he dodged the blow, which made the bags in his arms crinkle. “You can’t deny the flowers and cookies sweetened ole’ Nao up.” 

“To you,” Bakugo muttered, shifting the package in his arms a bit. “She still yelled at me for fifteen minutes.” 

“Well, you kinda deserved i—yow!” Kirishima yelped as Bakugo kicked him squarely in the ass this time. “This isn’t helping your image, bro!” 

“No one even knows it’s us,” the blond hissed. 

“Yeah, I guess the hoodies and sunglasses help,” the other pro hero mused. 

“And the fact that we’re carrying all this stupid shit.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Kirishima frowned in that earnest way of his, which made Bakugo roll his eyes. “It’s thoughtful to bring gifts to people who are having a difficult time. Especially when you made that time difficult. You basically kicked her out of her house, dude, not to mention her shop.” 

A wave of guilt actually washed through the blond, which he didn’t like. It made his throat feel tight and his stomach churn, and he glanced away from the redhead with a scowl. 

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “It’s not like we aren’t gonna pay for it.” 

The excuse felt flat, even to him. 

“Still,” Kirishima said as he shifted the bags in his grip, pulled out his phone, and consulted the map. “It must be stressful. So, we’re going to be nice to her, alright? Which starts with the gifts.” 

“And how is a fuckin’ fruit basket supposed to help?” Bakugo asked as he glared around the overflowing mound of crinkling plastic and bright fruit that he held against his chest. 

“Uh, one, it’s practical. Her apartment’s all fucked up, the power’s probably still out if not inconsistent on the street, and she’s been living in a hotel for two days, so she probably hasn’t had some nice fresh fruit in a while. And two, it looks nice!” 

“We coulda just left this shit at the hotel,” Bakugo grumbled. “She has to go back there eventually, right?” 

After old Nao chewed his ass out, Bakugo and Kirishima had gone to the hotel the police said they’d put you up in. Except you weren’t fucking there, and the number you left with Kirishima when you called the agency was going straight to voicemail, so here there were, fucking trekking through the city with a bunch of useless shit. 

Bakugo just kept reminding himself it would be worth it when he got the truth about your quirk out of you. 

“Nope,” Kirishima said and drew the blond out of his thoughts. “The city only pays the first two days after an emergency, unless the villain caused all the damage, but, uh, that’s not the case here, so we’ll be accommodating her until her apartment gets fixed up.” 

“At the agency?” Bakugo asked as his red eyes clicked over to his partner. 

As the Number Two and Three Heroes, the two of them had built a solid agency together. Bakugo still didn’t care for a bunch of extras riding on his tailcoats, so they had few sidekicks, all of whom reported to Kirishima and left him the fuck alone for the most part. But they owned a nice, sleek building in a nicer part of town, and one of the floors was dedicated to individual rooms with beds and other amenities. They were usually used when Bakugo, Kirishima, or the other sidekicks wanted to crash after patrol instead of going home—which Bakugo did more often than not—but they’d never had a civilian stay on the premises. 

Until now. 

“Yessssss, at the agency,” the redhead drawled as a shit-eating smirk crawled across his face. “So, you’ll be seeing a lot of her for the next couple weeks.” 

“Wipe that stupid look off your face.” Bakugo scowled and shouldered past the other hero, who snickered as he jogged to catch up. 

“Take the next left up ahead.” 

“Shut up!” the blond growled, but he followed the instructions. 

This was good news, though. Bakugo wouldn’t have to trek to this shitty part of town more than he had to. 

And he’d have a healer just down the hall. 

They marched along in silence for a few minutes, keeping their heads down, but there wasn’t much foot traffic. Bakugo was lost in his thoughts, planning out the questions he was going to ask you once he could distract Kirishima, but the redhead suddenly stopped in front of him. 

“Hey,” Bakugo grunted as the fruit basket crinkled against the other hero’s back. He hadn’t even notice Kiri get in front of him again. “What’s the damn hold up?” 

“Holy shit, dude,” Kirishima muttered, staring out at the road he’d just turned onto. 

“What?” the blond grumbled, shoving past his friend, but then he stopped, too. “Oh… yeah.” 

The street in front of him looked much worse in the bright light of midday. The road was a torn-up mess, more patches of dirt and gravel than actual asphalt. Most of the large-scale debris had been hauled away, but black scorch marks covered the sidewalks in long, dark smears. The walls of several businesses also bore charring along the facades, but most of the damage was focused in the center of the street. A crater nearly six feet deep was carved into the middle of the road, and the buildings on either side were blackened, their broken windows gaping voids. 

And then there was the hole in what Bakugo remembered as your second-floor apartment. A tarp hung over the wound, but one of the corners had come undone, flapping in the wind and giving split second glimpses into the darkened room beyond. 

Guilt crept up on him again, but Bakugo shoved it down, hunching over the fruit basket and nudging Kirishima. 

“Come on,” he muttered before he started moving forward, and a moment later he heard the crunch of boots on gravel as the redhead followed him. 

There were more people on this street than on the last several, but Bakugo could immediately tell they weren’t customers just passing through. People swept sidewalks, clearing away the last of the rubble and glass in front of their shops. Then a few old ladies stood under one awning shaking their heads, their hands laden with containers of food or gifts. 

Guess Kirishima hadn’t been wrong with this stupid idea. 

Then Bakugo realized some of those people were starting to look back at him, so he ducked his head further behind the fruit basket, grateful for his hoodie and sunglasses. 

But then suddenly he was there, standing in front of your ruined shop. His red eyes immediately flickered upward, but if there was a sign there before, it was gone now, burnt to ash. 

“What kinda shop did you say this was?” the blond asked under his breath as Kirishima paused beside him. 

“I’m… not sure,” the redhead said with a furrowed brow. “I don’t think she said on the phone. No time like the present to ask, though.” 

Before Bakugo could stop him, Kirishima shifted the bags in his arms, lifted one hand, and knocked on the charred metal frame of the front door. 

“Hello?” he called through the broken windows, followed by your name. “Anyone in there?” 

“Shit!” The squeaking voice was followed by a crashing sound somewhere in the shadows of the store. 

Bakugo didn’t speak a lot of English, but he did know curse words, and the sound of it made his lips twitch in amusement. 

“Are you okay?” Kirishima called out. “Can, uh, we come in?” 

“Yes, I’m fine!” the voice answered back in flustered Japanese. The words were fluent, though, with barely the hint of an accent. “And, um, I-I guess you can come in, but—” 

That was good enough for Bakugo. 

The blond shouldered past his partner, boots crunching over glass as he ducked into the darkened shop, and Kirishima sighed as he followed. 

The interior, if possible, looked worse than the outside. The room itself wasn’t very big, but it was a mess. Two metal rods had been embedded in the left and right walls at odd angles, obviously caused from the explosions, though Bakugo couldn’t tell what they used to be. Several pieces of blacked mannequins were scattered through the debris, and one wall was a charred mess of shelving and fabric, spots of color peeking through the black ash here and there. 

In the back, left corner were the remains of a tri-fold standing mirror, the ones where you could see yourself from different angles. Large shards of glass were missing, though, so the image of Bakugo and Kirishima standing backlit against the street was fractured. 

Last but not least, in the rear, right corner of the store was a counter that was half collapsed to the floor, behind which stood an empty doorframe that Bakugo assumed led to the back of the shop and upstairs. 

And it was from behind this broken counter that you popped up with a dustpan in one hand and a tiny, handheld broom in the other. 

The first thought Bakugo had was your face was rather plain… but in a somehow pleasing way. Like if his eyes had scanned over you in a crowd, something about the line of your jaw, the slope of your nose, the delicate quirk of your mouth would give him pause. 

His second thought was that his first one was stupid. You were just some extra, of course you would be plain and unmemorable. 

But his third thought was something about the color of your eyes was captivating, in a way that was damn fucking annoying. 

“Sorry, I was just… cleaning… up,” you said, slowly trailing off as your eyes met Bakugo’s. 

He saw the recognition flare in them immediately, followed by fear, and he couldn’t help the frown that twisted his face. 

Why were you afraid of him? 

“No, we’re sorry for barging in here like this,” Kirishima barreled on, oblivious to the stare off the other two occupants of the room were engaged in. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Oh! I’m being so rude. My name is Eijiro Kirishima, or you might know me as—” 

“Red Riot,” you breathed, finally tearing your eyes from Bakugo’s, and you flashed the redhead a half-smile that trembled along the edges. “We spoke on the phone.” 

“Yes.” Kirishima grinned, pointed teeth flashing in the dim light of the shop, before his gaze flickered over to the blond beside him. “And this is—” 

“Dynamight,” you finished once again, and you looked like you were trying desperately to maintain eye contact with the hardening hero, but then your eyes clicked back to Bakugo. You didn’t flash him a smile. “We’ve met.” 

“Oh, yeah, right,” Kiri chuckled awkwardly, and his arm jerked like he was going to rub the back of his neck, but the bags in his hands crinkled and stopped him. 

“What… do you have there?” you asked, frowning at the bags and the fruit basket the heroes were carrying. 

“Gifts!” the redhead declared as he hefted his arms up, and then he shuffled forward over charred fabric and glass and extended the bags to you. 

You blinked at him for a second, but you set the dustpan and handheld broom on the counter, where they promptly slid to the floor since the whole surface was slanted. You winced at the loud clatter and tried to cover it up by taking the bags from Kirishima, which crinkled loudly again as they transferred hands. 

Bakugo would be annoyed if he wasn’t more grateful that he could actually hear the innocuous little noise. 

“O-Oh, um, you shouldn’t have, really,” you started as you peeked into the bags, and then Bakugo swore he saw your eyebrow twitch once you saw what was inside. 

“It’s not much,” Kirishima said, and he was finally free to rub the back of his head and neck as his smile turned a little sheepish. “But, what with the state of your… apartment, we thought you might need some new clothes! And comfy clothes are the best after stressful days. These especially are super soft, we made sure of it. And, if you don’t like them, you could always sell them for a good chunk of change.” 

The redhead winked at you, not in an overly flirty manner, that was just how he was, but your cheeks flared as crimson as his hair, and your eyes dropped to the floor. 

Bakugo took the split instant to get a better look at you and noted you were wearing patched, faded jeans, solid boots, and a bleach-stained orange sweatshirt with some English writing he couldn’t read. Usually, he didn’t really see what other people wore because he couldn’t give less of a shit, but somehow he found your obvious cleaning clothes… endearing. The orange looked good on you, too. 

Fuck, maybe you didn’t heal him as well as he thought. He had to be hemorrhaging into his brain to be thinking this stupid shit. Or maybe it was a side effect of your quirk? 

He needed to get you alone and get answers. 

“Well… thank you, this was very thoughtf—oh, wow, that is soft,” you murmured as you partially drew a sweatshirt out of the bag. 

Bakugo instantly recognized the forest green and orange color scheme, and apparently so did you, because your face twitched, and you dropped the garment back into the bag and traded it for fuzzy socks with Red Riot’s signature gears stitched into them. 

“These will definitely come in handy, my feet are always cold,” you said with an awkward giggle. Then you cleared your throat to cover up the sound. “Thank you, um, Red Riot.” 

“You can call me Eijiro, or Kirishima, whatever you’re comfortable with,” the redhead said with another easy grin. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, after all. Oh! We also got you a fruit basket, and I think there might be a few other sweets tucked in there.” 

Kirishima nudged Bakugo forward, and your face rippled through a range of emotions, like your brain was taking a second to catch up to everything the pro hero just spewed. First, flustered embarrassment colored your cheeks, then confusion buckled your brow, and your eyes widened before they looked at the fruit basket Bakugo was extending at you. 

“Oh, you can just put it down… um…” you trailed off as you turned to the counter and remembered it was half destroyed. Then your eyes jumped around frantically for some kind of flat surface, but the ruined shop didn’t offer any solutions. 

“Told ya we shouldn’t of brought this shit,” Bakugo grunted, shooting a scowl at Kirishima. 

“Yeahhhhh, we probably could have just delivered it to your room at the agency, my bad,” the redhead laughed. “But don’t worry, we’ll carry it back for you, along with any of your other things.” 

“My… things?” you echoed, sounding out the words like a child, and a frown marred your face. “I-I think I must be misunderstanding you, I’m sorry, I’m American. But did you say my room at the agency? As in… your hero agency?” 

“You’re American?” Kirishima asked with wide red eyes. “I wouldn’t have even guessed! Your accent is almost perfect, I thought you were maybe just from like the countryside or something.” 

“I thought you said we were supposed to be nice to her,” Bakugo snorted at his partner like you weren’t in the room, and he saw you frown at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh, shit, no, that wasn’t what I meant!” Japan’s Number Three Hero immediately began waving his hands in front of his face, his mouth moving twice as fast. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I really think your accent sounds nice! It’s very cute!” 

Now, not only did your cheeks flush again, but the red hue traveled down your throat and across your collarbones, peeking out the stretched collar of your orange sweatshirt. 

Bakugo found himself half distracted by the sight, but the other half was wondering why he suddenly felt irritation flare up in his gut. 

“Okay, you don’t have to take her out on a date now,” the blond snapped, shifting his burden of fruit and plastic. 

“I-I think we might have gotten off track,” you stuttered as you clutched the bag of Dynamight and Red Riot merch to your chest. “You said something about your agency.” 

“Yes, right.” Kirishima cleared his throat. “We would have mentioned this in our follow up email after you sent in your insurance info, but—” 

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry!” you cut him off with a grimace, and you actually dipped your head and shoulders into a bow. “I meant to send that yesterday, but my laptop is broken, and my cell service isn’t great—” 

“No, no, it’s fine!” the redhead interrupted this time. “You obviously have a lot on your plate. I just meant that this might seem kind of sudden, but—” 

Fucking hell, this was taking too long. 

“You’re staying at our agency until we can pay for the repairs to your apartment and shop,” Bakugo said bluntly. If he didn’t step in, the two of you were just going to stammer circles around each other all day. “Starting tonight. We have rooms with beds and shit, so pack whatever clothes or crap you need.” 

Your mouth fell open as you gaped at Bakugo. “I… what?” 

“You deaf or something?” The words rocketed from his mouth before he could stop them, before he could even think about what he was saying, and he saw the way the question struck you like a physical blow. You flinched, your cheeks paling, and he saw dawning, guilty horror glint at the back of your eyes. 

He’d been right. You did do something to his ears. 

“Bro, you were just talking about being nice.” Kirishima frowned at Bakugo before he turned back to you. “Ignore him. We’re really sorry about the inconvenience this whole… incident has caused for you, but we’ll take care of everything you need until your shop’s grand reopening, so you don’t have to worry about a thing, okay?” 

You continued to stare at the two heroes in shocked silence, your wide eyes clicking back and forth between the two of them as you clutched the bags to your chest like a lifeline. 

“That is… all so generous,” you finally breathed, your tone rising in pitch like you were growing increasingly flustered. “It’s, um, a lot to take in.” 

“Of course.” Kirishima nodded fervently. “What else can we do to help?” 

“Could you leave?” 

Bakugo blinked in surprise and then had to stifle his snort. 

“Oh, no, I’m sorry!” you quickly followed up when you saw the redhead’s falling expression. “I didn’t mean… I just meant, could I have some time to process this? Um, alone? L-Like Dynamight said, I need to pack a few things, a-and there are some people I need to speak to before, uh… well, is it okay if I tell someone where I’ll be? Like, at your agency?” 

“Yessss?” Kirishima said with a confused frown. “Why wouldn’t that be okay?” 

“O-Oh, I just don’t really know how the whole hero and media thing works here,” you quickly lied, and Bakugo clocked the way you averted your eyes, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed thickly. “I-I wasn’t going to post on social media or anything, I barely use that stuff anyway, but one of my customers, Mrs. Kojima, would be upset if I disappeared without saying anything.” 

“Aww, that’s sweet.” The redhead grinned before he glanced at the shadowed ruins around him. “What kind of shop is this by the way? I don’t think you mentioned.” 

“A-Alterations,” you said, ducking your face in embarrassment again. “My grandparents were a tailor and seamstress. I inherited this place from them.” 

“I thought you said you were American?” Kirishima asked, but not in an accusatory way. He was just too curious for his own good and didn’t possess much of a filter. 

Bakugo usually didn’t care for small talk, fucking waste of time if you asked him, but he found himself focusing intently on you, awaiting a response. 

“I am.” You nodded. “My parents were both born here, but they moved to the States after they married, and I was born there. After my grandparents passed, my dad was going to sell the shop, but I was looking for something… new, so I decided to move here instead about a year ago.” 

Bakugo pursed his lips at this new information. If you had a healing quirk, why were you patching up clothes in some little shop all the way across the world from your surviving family? Could it be because your quirk was dangerous? 

“Wow, that’s cool,” Kirishima said with an impressed expression that quickly turned sheepish. “Except about your grandparent’s passing. My condolences.” 

“Thank you,” you muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips, but then you quickly shook your head. “I-I’m sorry, didn’t mean to give you my whole life story, I tend to talk when I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Red Riot laughed like he did when he was meeting shy little kids on the street, flashing his sharpened teeth jokingly and winking in an overexaggerated fashion. “I promise, we look scarier than we are.” 

“Speak for yourself, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo scoffed, which made you jump, like you’d forgotten he was there. 

And that rubbed him the wrong way for some reason. 

Kirishima merely smirked before he partially covered his mouth with his hand and lowered his voice into a stage whisper directed at you. “All bark, no bite, I’m telling you.” 

“Stop making me seem lame, you bastard!” the blond growled, but the effect was kind of ruined by the fruit basket crinkling in his hands again. 

This actually seemed to startle a giggle out of you, and the two heroes whipped around, one with a grin and the other a scowl. 

“See, you don’t need to be nervous,” Kirishima said before he slung an arm around Bakugo’s shoulders. “But we’ll get out of your hair for now so you can have some time to pack and everything. Don’t worry about picking up too much, though, we’ll have cleaning crews in here before we start the remodel, and we don’t want you to get hurt in here. If there’s stuff up in your apartment that you don’t want to bring with you to the agency but don’t want thrown out, make a list, and we’ll be sure to keep everything safe.” 

“O-Okay,” you said, still standing there with the hero merch clenched to your chest and a dumbstruck expression on your face. “T-Thank you again, Red--, erm, Kirishima.” 

“Of course!” He grinned. “I have patrol tonight, but we’ll send a car to pick you up—” 

“No,” Bakugo cut in as he locked eyes with you. “I’ll pick you up. What time?” 

The blond could see Kirishima shoot him a look in his peripherals—probably because they both had patrol tonight—but Bakugo ignored his partner, maintaining eye contact with you. 

You, meanwhile, squirmed under the explosive hero’s intense scrutiny, your face paling and flushing in turns. “I… no, you don’t have to do that, I can take the train—” 

“I insist,” he interrupted again, narrowing his eyes so you would realize he wasn’t going to back down. “Like Shitty Hair said, we caused this… inconvenience, so I’ll pick you up. What. Time?” 

You swallowed thickly, your throat audibly clicking. “S-Seven?” 

“I’ll be here at seven sharp,” Bakugo said. “And you better be out front or at least answer your phone this time.” 

You better not run, he didn’t say, but by the look on your face, you understood. 

“Seven sharp.” You nodded, biting your lip as a resigned expression settled over your features. “Got it.” 

“Great. See you then.” 

With that, Bakugo turned on heel and crunched his way out of your store, leaving Kirishima stuttering apologies in his wake. 

But that didn’t matter. 

All that mattered was, tonight, he’d finally get you alone and get to the bottom of your damn quirk.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Realignment

Prompt: I love when Remus is a lot smarter than he lets on, so I’d love a prompt where Logan is overworking himself and not taking care of himself and one tic of the clock away from either passing out or having a full on mental breakdown (not the type you can recover from in a day). Remus notices the little signs Logan shows, and hears the intrusive thoughts Logan has. Remus really becomes concerned when Logan’s intrusive thoughts start to involve taking breaks, going to eat properly rather than inhaling granola bars, and even sleeping. Remus storms in and is like “Logan tf????” Then gets hella soft once he realizes the state Logan is in

Thank you for the prompts, babe! I liked this one the best so I picked it. 

GUYS PLEASE VIEW THIS AS A C H E C K P O I N T if you've been scrolling for a while (and you probably have) pause here! drink water! get food! walk around the room for a little bit! stretch! do something please! you are very important to me and I care about you very deeply!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: discussions of self-harm, nothing explicit, some self-destructive tendencies and behaviors. 

Pairings: focus on intrulogical, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic i don’t care

Word Count: 2410

Realignment: to align again.

Realignment: to reorganize or make new groupings of.

* * *

Remus hears a lot of weird shit.

The problem arises when the shit he starts to hear isn't weird at all.

Remus hears a lot of weird shit.

 The more appropriate definition would be ‘fucked up like you wouldn’t fucking believe,’ but one of us has a problem with particularly strong language and shit doesn’t have to be censored in a lot of media anymore. Which is so convenient! For some of us!

 It’s fucking great.

Anyway. Point being. Fucked up shit.

 Intrusive thoughts literally fall under his purview. It’s the fun stuff! The stuff you don’t wanna think about that makes your skin crawl and your eyes pop open at the witching hour and stay awake until the sun rises. That’s Remus’s job.

 And it’s like the whole Mindscape is whack-a-mole that he gets to play with! Buttons here and there, squeeze this part and watch the eyes bug out of this part, bap this one on the head, see which one pokes up next. Who’s gonna have nightmares tonight? Who is having a nightmare tonight?

 It’s fun.

 Point. Right. Right.

 It’s normally pretty easy to tell whose intrusive thoughts are whose. They taste different. Patton’s taste like sugar so sweet it’ll fill your mouth with cavities. Virgil’s taste like spiders, crawling around his mouth. Janus’s taste like salt. So much fucking salt. Dry as hell.

 Roman’s taste like blood. Problem is, Remus’s mouth normally tastes like blood, so…

 Yeah, they gotta work that out.

 Logan’s taste like ink. Which is why it took him so long to figure out that Logan was having them. Not just because the nerdy wolverine was so convinced he couldn’t have them—rationalizing them as philosophy principles, come on—but because Remus isn’t exactly an expert on pens. Writing like normal people. Ugh.

 Normal people.

 What a lie, Janny probably gets a big kick out of those.

 No one is normal and normal is boring.

 Logan. Right.

 Okay, so here’s the thing.

 Logan’s thoughts aren’t really…standard? They are to some extent, you don’t really get a whole lot of variety from him—even when Remus has been so helpful in making his room safe for him to be in during bad days, there’s such a lack of imagination there that he wasn’t sure exactly how to feel—but it’s the recent ones that’ve been getting…weird.

 Remus chews thoughtfully on the kraken tentacle. He swings up to the chandelier and hangs by his ankles, letting the blood run to his head. Makes it easier to think sometimes.

 It hasn’t been very long since they found out…well, since they found out.

 Remus frowns. Why is he censoring himself? It’s not like he can’t fucking say self-harm, it’s not like he can’t describe what it was, it’s not like he can’t close his eyes and see it happening again.

 Then his mind jumps helpfully to the shocked, panicked look on Logan’s face and the soft, furious resignation on Roman’s, and his jaw snaps shut.

 Oh.

 Right.

 He cares. So he has to be gentle with them.

 He growls, swinging himself up to perch on the chandelier proper. He turns the kraken tentacle over and chews on the rubbery side.

 The others are delicate. Not that they’re more breakable than any other metaphysical humanoid, but their minds are fragile when it comes to Remus’s side of things. Could they handle the full spectrum of his side of thoughts and shit? Probably, they’re stronger than they give themselves credit for. Should they have to? Hell to the fuck no. But it means that Remus can’t just throw them in the deep end and see if the kraken spits them out whole or in chunks. Could they survive? Absolutely. Would they still be…them? Doubtful.

 Remus lets one of his legs go, hanging by one knee as he tips over.

 Plus they’re always a little more fragile when it comes to these thoughts anyway. Poking and prodding too much would hurt. Like, the bad kind of hurt.

 They’re not supposed to get hurt. Not like that.

 So. Gentle it is then.

 Right. The others. He has a point, he’s just gotta get there.

 Roman…fuck he’s missed his brother. They got—they got so much shit to still work out but they’re gonna do it together and fuck he loves his brother so goddamn much. Roman knows that, he knows that, and he’s always there to pull Remus out of his head when he needs it, hit him with a pillow, or tackle him onto something and hold him tight. He’s—his thoughts taste like blood and Remus hasn’t bitten anything since so that he’ll never miss it again.

 But with Logan...

 Logan is…odd. It hasn’t been long since they first found out—or rather, they confronted him about it, and Remus hasn’t tasted ink without it disappearing very quickly or knocking on someone’s door to please go get your fucking nerd, please. But the ink has only written the usual suspects, whispering the theorems in dark corners, muttering about the incompleteness of a set, the need for Logic, not Logan, and how to jump through the little loophole again.

 It’s not exactly hard for the others to tell.

 Lolo hasn’t been looking great. Sure, he’s all pressed and dressed, glasses perfectly in place, tie done up just so, walking around like everything’s just totally and completely fine, but it’s in his face. Object impermanence aside, normally when Remus bugs him, he reacts in some way.

 Sass is an emotional response and you won’t convince him otherwise.

 Whether it be a wry comment, effortlessly fixing whatever Remus has done to him this time, or even just a look, Lolo does something.

 Not anymore.

 Now he’ll just kind of…sigh and move on? He’ll fix whatever it is only if it’s directly interfering with what he’s trying to do, or when Patton or Virgil come round the corner and freak the fuck out because you’re bleeding! Then he’ll fix it.

 Remus wouldn’t say he’s bored, but he’s worried.

 Mainly because the intrusive thoughts…aren’t what he’d consider intrusive anymore.

 Take a shower.

 Eat something that isn’t just a granola bar.

 Go to sleep.

 Ask someone for help.

 See?

 If those are Lolo’s intrusive thoughts, then what the fuck is normally going on in his head?

 Remus waits. Waits. Keeps waiting.

 The instant his mouth tastes like ink again, with a question of whether or not Logan should take a break, he sinks straight into his shower. He washes his hair thoroughly, gets every single bit of grime off him he can, and puts on the softest pajamas he has—thank you, Roman—and drops himself outside of Logan’s door.

 He strains, mouth still full of ink, to hear anything other than the soft click, click, click of Logan’s keyboard.

 He can’t.

 Fuck.

 He knocks.

 “One moment, please.”

 Indeed, a few seconds later, the door opens to reveal Logan, looking as annoyingly pristine as he always does, surprised to see him.

 “Remus? Did you need something? Why…” he trails off as he takes in what Remus is wearing. “What’s wrong?”

 “Can I come in?”

 “Of—of course,” Logan stammers, moving aside to let him in, “are you alright?”

 “Should be asking you that, Lolo.”

 “Remus, you’ve just knocked, first of all, on my door and asked to come inside.” Logan adjusts his glasses as he sits at his desk. “This is extremely out of character for you.”

 “Uh-huh.” Remus flops onto the bed. “You know what else is out of character?”

 “Not wearing your costume?”

 “Not hearing intrusive thoughts.”

 Logan’s eyes widen. “Has—is there something wrong? Are you not hearing any? Do I need to get Roman?”

 Remus frowns. “Why’s it so easy for you to do that?”

 “Do what?”

 “Care. Try and take care of me.”

 Logan blinks. “Because you deserve to be taken care of, Remus. Your needs are important.”

 Remus idly toys with a loose thread on one sleeve. “Why?”

 “Why? Why are you important?” Remus nods. “Because you’re—you’re an important part of Thomas, you’re important to us, and we care about you.”

 “So it’s easy for you to care for me because…you do?”

 “As simple as that sounds,” Logan says with all the softness that should be directed at himself, “yes.”

 Remus nods. “I’m not having problems with hearing intrusive thoughts.”

 “You’re—you’re not?” Logan sighs, relaxing a little back into his chair. “Then why did you say you were?”

 “Because the thoughts that I am hearing aren’t really what I’d consider intrusive.”

 Logan frowns. “Like what?”

 Glad you fucking asked.

 “‘Take a shower,’” Remus says, his eyes fixed firmly on Logan’s face, “'eat something,’ ‘take a break,’ ‘go to sleep.’”

 He watches Logan’s face tense.

 “Sound familiar, Lolo?”

 “You—I—my apologies,” Logan manages after a moment, adjusting his tie, “I did not mean to be an inconvenience. You are correct, those are not intrusive thoughts, I’m not sure why you’re hearing them.”

 He turns to his desk and begins to fish around for a notebook.

 “That is quite intriguing, I wonder what the possibilities for hearing other types of thoughts are, considering—“

 “Lolo.”

 Logan pauses, turning back. “Yes?”

 Remus fixes him with a look, getting up and walking toward him. “They are intrusive thoughts, Logan. The issue is that your intrusive thoughts are about you taking care of yourself.”

 Logan freezes.

 “W-well, I’m sure that it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

 “So either you can admit that was a lie or Janny’s about to get summoned.”

 “Remus,” Logan sighs, “it’s fine. As you said, these aren’t what are traditionally considered intrusive thoughts, it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

 “No, Lolo, it is,” Remus argues, “because it means that the thought of you taking care of yourself is so foreign, so fucking out of the ordinary that not only does it happen to cross your mind—“ he takes Logan’s chair and spins it around— “but you try to force it out.”

 Gotcha.

 Logan looks anywhere other than Remus’s face and tries to stand. Only to wobble and crash back down.

 “Easy,” Remus says quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder, “you haven’t eaten in a while.”

 “But I have work.”

 “But you need food.”

 “Remus—“

 “Logan.”

 At Logan’s honest-to-fuck pout, he sighs, dragging the poor nerd up and out the chair and sitting him on the bed.

 “Why do you think you don’t deserve to be taken care of?”

 “I didn’t say that—hey!” Logan blinks up at him, scandalized and covering his stomach. “Why did you poke me?”

 “’S what I do when Janny won’t tell me the truth.”

 “I wasn’t—okay, okay!” Logan covers his stomach protectively as Remus readies another poke. “I just…I’ve already asked for help for this before. I shouldn’t have to again.”

 Remus sighs and lightly flicks the side of his head.

 “Hey!”

 “Virgil tries that too.” He stares hard at Logan. “Come on, Lolo, you can do better.”

 “It’s not your jobs to take care of me.”

 For fuck’s sake…

 Remus reaches out and tugs gently on Logan’s tie.

 “Remus, what—“

 “You taking more books outta Patton’s library now?” Remus tilts his head. “You don’t have to beat around the bush, Lolo, just be honest.”

 “I am being honest!”

 “You’re not lying, but you’re not being honest.” At the poor nerd’s confusion, he sighs and fixes his glasses on that cute nose. “Just talk to me, Lolo.”

 “I—“ Logan sighs and oh fuck why does he look so tired?

 Well, because he hasn’t been sleeping.

 Or eating.

 Or taking care of himself.

 Unbidden, part of his conversation with Roman flashes into his head.

 “Self-harm can be self-denial too.”

 “Lolo?”

 “It’s bad enough that I’ve made you all worry about me,” Logan says finally, “I would hate to be a burden.”

 Oh, Lolo. “You and Roman, huh?”

 Logan looks up warily. “What do you do with Roman?”

 “You know what I do.”

 Logan sighs. “May at least take my glasses off first?”

 “You might wanna change too, I’m not letting you up for a while.”

 Logan stretches to place his glasses on the nightstand and poofs himself into a t-shirt and boxers. He sighs and opens his arms.

 Remus takes two running steps and tackles the poor nerd onto his bed.

 “Ah!”

 “Am I hurting you?”

 “No, no, just—just a little startled.”

 “Mm.” Remus snuggles closer into Logan, his arms wrapped tightly around him. “So. Wanna try one more time?”

 Logan sighs, deflating them both to the bed. His head lolls to his left, eyes on his open computer screen. Remus follows it, barely suppressing a growl as he stretches his arm out to save whatever’s on screen and shut it.

 “I know what I’m supposed to be doing,” Logan whispers, “I understand the process, I am aware that healing is not a linear concept, I know it’s going to take time, I—I understand.”

 Remus looks down, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “But?”

 “It’s hard,” comes the soft confession.

 Oh, Lolo.

 “I know,” he murmurs, leaning down to hug him properly, “I know, Lolo, I know it’s hard. But you can’t try and do it all yourself, you’ve gotta remember that we’re here for you, we care about you.”

 “But why?”

 Remus smiles and cuddles him tighter. “You said it yourself, Lolo. We care because we do.”

 “O-oh.” He feels Logan’s throat work as he swallows. “Thank you, Remus.”

 “Of course, Lolo. I’m guessing that sinking us to the living room so everyone else can spoil you is a bad idea, right?”

 “Yes.” Finally, finally, he feels Logan shyly tighten his grip on him. “Can we just…stay like this?”

 “Do I have your permission to hold you hostage until you fall asleep?”

 “Yes.”

 “Then go to sleep, Lolo,” Remus murmurs, “I’m not going anywhere.”

 General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness  @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes  @iminyourfandom  @bullet-tothefeels  @full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83  @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious  @firefinch-ember  @fandomssaremysoul  @im-an-anxious-wreck  @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch  @enby-ralsei  @unicornssunflowersandstuff  @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams  @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb  @cricketanne  @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer  @i-am-overly-complicated  @annytheseal  @alias290  @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions

  If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

[maybe-theres-hope]

Tarlos ficlet - “You Like My Costume?”

For all y'all firefighter!Carlos babes :) 

@howtosingit @pragmaticoptimist34 and anyone else who likes this kind of thing <3

1.6k | ao3

TK is actually kind of bummed to be working on Halloween.

Sure, it’s not like he has to work Thanksgiving this year--he somehow finagled the day off and he has yet to tell Carlos that he will be making a surprise visit to the ranch for dinner and he absolutely can’t wait to see his fiancé’s face when he walks in--but he was kind of looking forward to doing the cutesy couple’s costume thing. He’s a sucker for that kind of thing, and he’s bummed, okay?

They’re out on a call that’s frankly more of a time waster than anything else since the fourteen year old in question wasn’t actually suffering from alcohol poisoning but rather he’d yarfed because his friends had dared him to drink a teaspoon of dish soap--honestly, kids these days--so things are looking pretty mellow so far for the evening. He half expected full-moon level type calls tonight but in all honesty he’s been kind of bored. Which really makes it doubly crappy to be working. There’s not even any excitement. 

“At least we’re off at 11, you’ll get to see the last of the trick-or-treaters,” Nancy says with a smirk. 

“Who trick-or-treats at 11 p.m.?” he asks. “By then it’ll just be the dumb teenagers TP-ing old people’s houses and that’s if anyone actually does that anymore.”

“What, you’re too old and married for those kinds of shenanigans?”

“Screw you, I’m not old, and I’m not married yet,” he quips back at her.

“Mmmhmm. Coulda fooled me.” She’s smiling her mischievous smile, the one she gets when she’s contemplating how to jump-scare him in the bunk room in the middle of the night because one time he yelped in such a high-pitch that she nearly peed herself laughing, and she’s been trying to recreate it ever since. 

“Hey, the thrill is not gone, I can promise you that.” Now it’s his turn to smirk back at her.

“Ugh ugh, okay, don’t wanna hear about it.” She waves her hands in front of her face like she’s shooing away fog. “And TK? I mean that. Whatever it is you’re going to be doing tonight, I never wanna hear about it, okay? Just...please. Keep it in the bedroom. Everyone’s going to be making enough assumptions as it is.”

He turns to look at her from the driver’s seat, puzzled. “What do you mean, tonight? What’s so special about tonight and why are people making assumptions? Carlos had to work until half an hour ago anyway, so we’re probably both going to just pass out when I get home. Also, what do you mean ‘assumptions’?”

She just smiles at him again. “Just drive, Strand.”

When he pulls the rig into the bay at ten minutes past eleven, TK just wants to shower and collapse. Boredom held out for only so long before giving into three separate calls where the patient coded on the backboard. He’s tired, he’s hungry, and he feels like he will never be clean of all the sweat. His fingers are aching and his shoulders are sore. He’s never been more ready to just slip into their sheets at home and pass into blissful oblivion. He can’t even make himself look up from the floor as he walks toward the locker room. 

“Hey TK! Why don’t you say hi to the new probie?” Mateo’s voice is nearly a giggle, and it actually causes TK to lift his head. With great effort. 

“Huh? We have a new probie? Whose first shift is on Halloween? Who did he piss off to manage that?” TK asks, following Mateo through the kitchen.

It’s Paul who answers from where he’s leaning against the archway leading back into the bay where the ladder truck is parked. “No one. You might be a little peeved that he took your old turnout gear, but I really, really doubt that.”

“What?” Now TK is just thoroughly confused. 

“Yeah,” Marjan says when he rounds the corner, “and it doesn’t fit him all that well, but I also highly doubt you’ll be upset about that either.” She’s practically glowing with mirth. 

“Okaaaay...what’s with everyone? Is this some kind of Halloween prank? Is someone going to jump out and scare me?”

“Trust me, it won’t scare you. Just...don’t scar the rest of us once you see it. Behave yourself until you get home,” is Nancy’s last line before she turns and practically runs up the stairs. 

TK darts his gaze around to the rest of them, brow furrowing. 

“Just go, man. We’ve been keeping this from you for like a week and we want to see the fruits of our labor,” Mateo says, shoving at TK’s shoulder so that he walks toward the ladder truck.

Still confused and slightly nervous, TK rounds the back of the truck and looks around to see what it is they’ve conjured up to prank him with. He scans the floor, wondering if someone in a scary mask will slide out from under the truck. He moves around to the other side while still in the team’s line of sight, looking back at them for some kind of indication that he’s on the right track. Marjan points subtly up and he follows with his gaze. 

His mouth goes instantly dry and his breath stops. He might gasp, but he can’t be sure.

“Hi babe. Happy Halloween,” Carlos croons in a low voice, though he’s blushing slightly which removes some of the effect. 

TK can only stare. His old turnout gear, indeed.

His fiancé his perched on top of the truck, casually leaned against the ladder and looking down on him. His hips, clad in baggy pants only held up by bright suspenders are slipped forward just so, inviting TK’s eyes to travel up the long line of his glorious body. The AFD t-shirt is straining at the seams, defining every muscle in his abs and pecs, the suspenders caressing against the hard planes of his chest, peeking out from the turnout coat hanging open. 

When Carlos notices where TK’s eyes have gone, he lifts himself out of his ridiculously sexy lean to stand and shrug out of the coat. How on earth anyone can make the removing of standard-issue PPE look so goddamned alluring, TK will never know. The movement causes Carlos’ shoulders to flex, and the cotton of the t-shirt nearly gives out. TK catches a peek of his own name in bright orange lettering across the back of the coat before it’s casually flipped over one massive shoulder, clinging to one finger. 

“I...holy shit,” is all he can say. He has been robbed of his entire vocabulary. He can hear his team snickering at him from the kitchen, but he pays them no mind. The view from here is much better. 

Carlos blushes a bit more, and tosses the coat down to TK, who catches it dazedly. Then, he watches as his absolutely gorgeous fiancé nimbly climbs down the footholds on the side of the truck like he’s done it a thousand times before, and between drooling and sucking in subtle breaths of air TK’s eyes are drawn directly to his ass. It’s a marvelous sight. 

Dropping down lightly onto the floor with a tiny bounce in his step, Carlos turns to face TK in all his glory. TK’s gaze once again runs the gambit from his shoulders down his torso, right down to his own spare pair of boots. 

Carlos saunters closer, knowing full well what he’s doing and loving every minute of it, the bastard. “So, babe,” he says in that same low voice, closer this time. “You like my costume?”

TK still can’t really form words. He might stutter a bit, but he’ll deny it later.

Carlos leans in close--presumably to deter their audience from hearing his next words, which are whispered directly into TK’s ear. 

“I chose to dress up as your secret fantasy,” he says, his lips caressing the shell of TK’s ear. He shivers, though from the words or the touch or the outfit or all of the above, TK can’t say. The next words he hears don’t help matters much.

“What do you say I rescue you from work? Take you home and give you some mouth-to-mouth?” 

TK can hear the desire behind the words, but he can also hear the tiniest giggle at the blatant dirty talk that Carlos actually doesn’t do that much of, and it makes his heart melt. This man is everything.

When he regains some coherency, TK decides to give back as much as he’s gotten. He runs his hands down Carlos’ torso, nearly dropping one suspender completely off his shoulder with his vigor in grabbing a handful of pectoral muscle. 

He leans back in and says into Carlos’ ear, “Well, have you still got your uniform in your car? It might be a bit big on me, but I think I’d look good in nothing but your utility belt. Should I handcuff you to the bed, firefighter Reyes?”

He leans back just enough to catch Carlos scrunching his eyes shut and biting his lip--desire written into every line of his face--and suddenly remembers their audience. This is not a free show, no matter how much help they provided Carlos in surprising TK with this. “Take me home, now.”

“You got it, babe.” With that, Carlos bends down, grabs TK by the waist, and lifts him like he weighs nothing. TK is thrown over his shoulder in a full fireman’s carry to the tune of his team, his friends, whistling and catcalling as he’s carried off to Carlos’ car. 

Yeah, this is a good Halloween. Maybe the best one yet. 

[makeste]

BnHA Movie 3 Trailer Hyped-Up Overreaction Post

WHO WANTS TO CAPSLOCK ABOUT THE NEW MOVIE 3 TRAILER WITH ME

I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS

first of all, subtitled version here for anyone who’s interested! now, then.

so we start with a baby. I wonder if this is supposed to be THE baby? like, you know, THAT BABY. THE GLOWY BABY

this guy has the longest, skinniest feet in the entire world. like, those are some snazzy shoes don’t get me wrong, but I can’t focus on that at all because this person has like an entire extra foot glued onto the end of his. hey mister why are you stepping on this golden baby

what did it ever do to you

is this a cult?

is the focus supposed to be people standing around this gold thing in the front of the main room, or the person standing at the top of those stairs up there? why are they pointing spears at a statue. this image is extremely strange

“are quirks blessed fortunes sent to humanity” possibly, but if that’s the case humanity did a great job fucking that up like we fuck everything else up sob

what’s this bridge here? this kind of looks like the 25 de Abril bridge in Portugal, but the surrounding terrain is different and it looks a lot smaller. like, really small. is this bridge actually tiny or is this fountain secretly HUGE. or is the bridge actually like way farther away than we’re supposed to think it is?? this is another strange image

“creator, supervisor, and character design by Horikoshi Kouhei” all I needed to hear, THANK YOU. good job 2021. between this, the vaccine, and the boat stuck in the Suez Canal you’re on a roll lately

now we get to the really good part

so, my brain refuses to accept that this is a real sentence. “hero Deku wanted for mass murder” no those words don’t go together like that. that’s a fucking fake sentence. this literally doesn’t compute for me at all. I can’t fucking process it without immediately cracking up lmao. DEKU KILLED SOMEONE YOU GUYS. HE KILLED MASS SOMEONES ACTUALLY. HE’S WANTED FOR MURDER. THIS IS WHAT A MURDERER LOOKS LIKE

LOOK IF YOU DARE, INTO THE FACE OF EVIL

WORLD CRISIS. THE DESTRUCTION OF THE EARTH. yeah that sounds par for the course for BnHA these days

this person seems really upset

it’ll be all right, friend

WHAT IS THIS IMAGE DOING HIDDEN HERE IN THIS “PAUSE OR YOU’LL MISS IT” SCENE

JUST IGNORE ALL THE YOUTUBE STUFF, I’M SORRY, I COULDN’T GET RID OF IT, AND I DIDN’T WANT TO CROP IT OUT BECAUSE EVERY PIXEL COUNTS IN THIS ONE. ANYWAYS, NOTHING TO SEE HERE, JUST TSUYU, OCHAKO, KIRISHIMA AND TETSUTETSU ALL LYING AROUND DEAD AND STUFF. PROBABLY DEKU DID IT

PLANES!!! THE BETTER TO YEET CHILDREN OUT OF

also what city is this?? this isn’t any recognizable city that I can think of, but it’s not like I’m an expert, and also it is supposed to be the future so the skylines might have changed

MY BOYSSSS

ABOUT TO JUMP OUT OF A PLANE. PROBABLY ON THEIR WAY TO COMMITTING SOME MASS MURDERS IDK. SHOUTO’S NEW COSTUME IS COMPRISED OF AT LEAST 50% HOODIE YOU GUYS. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH??

WHY IS THERE A TIME LIMIT OF TWO HOURS

BURNIN’?!??!

THEY MISSED AN OPPORTUNITY TO CALL THIS NEW MOVIE MY HERO ACADEMIA: HEROES FALLING. YOU KNOW, BECAUSE... BECAUSE LIKE, HEROES RISING... AND NOW THEY’RE FALLING... GET IT... BECAUSE THEY’RE... ANYWAY

so can Burnin’ fly?? none of these heroes appear to be wearing parachutes. heroes sure are wild

TOKOYAMI?!?!

HAWKS LOOKS SO... IDK WHAT IT IS BUT I’M LOSING IT AT HIS FACE SOB

HOODIEEEE

you all don’t understand how badly I NEED THIS HOODIE IN MY LIFE. it is INSANE how jealous I am of Shouto right now. YOU CAN DISAPPEAR UNDER THAT THING!! JUST PULL IT RIGHT DOWN OVER YOUR EYES AND TAKE A NAP. THIS IS SUCH A POWERFUL HOODIE YOU GUYS YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND

KACCHANNNN

HE’S SO SNUG IN HIS HOODIE!!! HE LOOKS LIKE A LITTLE KID WEARING A HALLOWEEN COSTUME BUT SOMEHOW HE PULLS IT OFF. AND DID HE CHANGE UP HIS MASK??? I LOVE THIS??

DEKUUUUU

THE BLACK AND GREEN AESTHETIC IS SO FUCKING DOPE YOU GUYS. LOOK AT THE EYES!! THE MASK IS FINALLY COLOR COORDINATED!! FINALLY IT’S ALL COMING TOGETHER. DEKU ANY OTHER COSTUME YOU HAVE AFTER THIS WILL BE A LETDOWN. YOU PEAKED, DUDE. YOU WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO TOP THIS I’M SO SORRY

FALLINGGGGGG

OKAY THANK GOD, IT DOES LOOK LIKE THEY’RE WEARING PARACHUTES HERE. NOT THAT KACCHAN OR SHOUTO NEED THEM. SHOUTO LOOKS SO COOL SOMEHOW. DOING THE AERODYNAMIC THING. HE LOOKS LIKE A PROFESSIONAL. HOW ARE THEIR HOODIES STAYING ON WITH THEM FALLING LIKE THAT

KACCHAN IS JUST

BYE KACCHAN

SHOUTO’S FLAMES LOOK SO TINY IN COMPARISON BUT HE’S TRYING LOL

this gave the impression that he was trying to blast off like Kacchan did, but because his flames are only on his left side he ends up just spinning in a circle lol

boy what are you doing

I guess they’re trying to shoot at someone?? probably Kacchan for showing them up like that

THERE IT IS THE SHOT OF DEKU

they always gotta do this shot

AHHHHHH

GLOWING!!!!!! SHINY!!!!!

IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT FOR THIS AHHHHH

love how there is absolutely NO CONTEXT for Deku being a mass murderer at ANY POINT IN THE ENTIRE TRAILER. it’s just, “by the way Deku’s a murderer lol” and then all of this other stuff with people falling out of planes and being shiny. DEKU KILLED SOMEONE, EH... WE’RE JUST GOING TO IGNORE IT

anyway, so! this movie looks liiiiiiit you guys, I can’t wait. it’s hitting Japan in August, so hopefully we’ll start getting it in other countries within a couple months of that. can’t wait to see all that murder, goddamn

[sometimesrosy]

Rosy that's fantastic news for your book!! I'm really happy for you. And just seeing "bellarke consum their love and even have grandkids" makes my heart full. Bob and Eliza said tthey were disappointed that 1/the charaters couldn't have kids in the end and that 2/ there was no hope. I totally agree with their interpretation of the end. Some people said the ending was super cool, and inkeeping with the whole show, and somehow hopeful. HOW WAS IT HOPEFUL?? the human race gets wiped out...

People said the ending was “super cool?” How?

Wait. I need to wrap my head around that. What are they looking at that seems super cool?

I actually don’t have a problem of the concept of transcendence that they worked on all season, nor Cadogan, the fake-spiritual, love-your-fellow-man-but-also-sacrifice-them-because-they-mean-nothing cult leader who favored his daughter, used his son, tossed his exwife into the apocalypse and killed Becca because she had power and knowledge beyond him.

Like, that could have been super cool if they’d kept him the villain, the antagonist, but instead they made him the protagonist who was, somehow, right about transcendence as if it wasn’t just another fucking doomsday cult that wanted humanity to end. I mean, it WAS just another fucking doomsday cult that wanted humanity to end, and the aliens vacuumed up humanity and allowed for no dissent. Here, have your perfect happy transcendence...but your body dies, the world ends, and humanity is gone. That is EXACTLY what ALIE did, and she was a villain. Perhaps a well meaning villain, but a terrifying villain.

How did the SAME story, get switched around to being some sort of victory for the state of humanity? How did the end of humanity, no chance to continue on, because they removed their ability to have children and carry on?

Why couldn’t they just fucking stay on The Ring if that was going to happen. At least they could have a small community up there.  But no. Without the info that our heroes brought, they wouldn’t have reached transcendence. 

That wasn’t transcendence. It was judgement day. Transcendence means you have worked your way to a higher state, and yes, it might be condescending and elitist, but you at least worked for it. And it wasn’t really a judgement day because they just took everybody, despite the fact that those idiots were fighting for no fucking reason. It was a PUNISHMENT day for Clarke, one of the only people who was actually TRYING to be better and do better. 

What was cool? The way the aliens brought back the people they cared for? Yes, that was cool. It wasn’t them of course, but some people would be impressed by the alien dressed up in the costume of their fav. I could see that being considered super cool. But honestly... that’s a story line that would have worked better in season 3 and in fact DID work remarkably well in season 3 when Lxa showed up in the COL. And it was ACTUALLY her, not some facsimile.

Was it cool to take away the agency of the hero of the story who we’ve been following for 7 years? Was it cool to erase the personality and motivation of our dual protagonist? Ok. So lets say you didn’t love Clarke or Bellamy. Octavia’s character was erased and she didn’t have a thing to do until the final battle, and then she got a romance that frankly made me uncomfortable but that’s taste. Echo was erased and she didn’t have a thing to do until the final battle. Raven was also erase although she got to be the one to convince the aliens that they weren’t totally awful beings. That was cool, but it seemed like a patch put on top of a story that had failed. The story being about how Clarke saves humanity, and Bellamy saves Clarke, which has been THE STORY FOR SIX YEARS. We spent six years building up a team with these two heroes who have been through so much shit and made the CHOICE to be the good guys, and in the end, Bellamy gives his power over to a charismatic obsessive leader (also happened in season 3 with Pike who was a great character and FAR better than Cadogan and actual sympathetic awful villain who thought he was saving his people while doing evil.) And Clarke actually becomes THE BAD GUY, who loses her sense of reason and commits violence due to loving too much-- a really tired, misogynistic storyline. Give women power and they go crazy. The hysterical woman. THIS DOES NOT FIT WITH CLARKE GRIFFIN. Also, we saw her go through that trauma of fear for her daughter, and she DID NOT GO CRAZY. Ruthless, yes. And then she worked through what she had done and recognized she was wrong and promised not to do that again. I honestly don’t know why she did it again.  Even if Bellamy betrayed her again, it didn’t make sense that she couldn’t work through it.

They had to keep the two characters apart in order have that ending happen. Why? Because Clarke acts as the center to Bellamy and Bellamy acts as the Center to Clarke. This season is the story of the FAILURE of the duo protagonists of the show. They separated them and broke them individually, and this meant they were unable to save the universe. 

Is it cool to make a show about heroes and then destroy them in the last season? But frame that destruction and the end of humanity as a VICTORY and positive ending? Maybe if you hate those characters and humanity and think there’s no hope for us anyway, so lets just burn it down.

Oh wait. I’m trying to figure out what’s SUPER COOL about that ending.

The purple sparkly aliens. Ok. How is that cool? That there’s actually an omnipotent alien out there that has the ability to just snap a whole race of people out of existence or into their big ole stew pot of consciousness.

1. Why? 2. How? 3. Where did that power come from? 4. Who are they? 5. What do they get out of erasing races and basically eating them?

Okay, putting aside the questions about how these omnipotent gods aliens came to be... is it possible they can be see as “super cool?” Let me go through.

1. Omnipotent aliens going through the universe, deciding when life forms were “ready” to be judged and then either wiping them out totally, or wiping them out totally but accepting their consciousnesses into their massive consciousness where they don’t want any “bad” lifeforms, which makes them now a higher lifeform but not at all what they once were. 

Cool/Not Cool. I dunno. Kind of seems like some sort of puritanical god who willy nilly decides if people are worthy of heaven. Will He, Nil He. That’s what that means. If we’re gonna get aliens at the last minute, I want aliens. I want to know who they are and what’s up with them. THAT’S the story. Those alien guys. Instead, the story was about the flotsam and jetsam at the end of humanity, either getting swept up into the god-form in the sky or being pounded to bits on the rocks. The heroes of our story have no say in what happens. They’re toast either way. Oh you mean we can be erased into nothing or erased into your hive mind? The only way this is cool is if you like nihilism. Which, yeah, some people do. NONE of their struggle over the past six years meant a damn thing. None of it. Their beliefs, their sacrifices, their mistakes, their heroism. It al reduces down to whether those sparkly purple aliens like them or not. That’s some bullshit. 

Not cool. 

2. Cadogan. Cult leader from the first apocalypse who conned the bulk of his followers and left them shady shelters that let them die. Kept the good stuff for his “best” followers. Paternalistic, obsessive, ruthless, megalomaniac framing his leadership and personality as “Love for Humanity,” while discarding every human who he deemed unworthy. Including his own family. Actually. Pretty cool.  AS A VILLAIN. Ending up at his cult colony in space hundreds of years later with thousands of years of development in time dilation. Cool. They’re creepy but make some bit of sense. Ok. Waking him up and then making him this fucking GURU who preaches love for humanity but sacrifices 99.9% of humanity all so that he can reach his mythical transcendence which is really the eradication of all humanity.... well, that’s actually cool. AS A VILLAIN. But somehow in the last season, Cadogan turned out to be the one who was right all along, and the story seemed to accept HIS concept that transcendence was the best thing that could happen to them, because humanity sucks and they always fight so they should be erase by paternalistic omnipotent gods. CADOGAN’S choices were the ones that were enacted. Bellamy gave his will to Cadogan and made CADOGAN’S choices, not his own. Never before in all the seasons did Bellamy “need it all to make sense.” He fucking KNEW it made no sense and he didn’t want to make those choices any more. And he did it to be a better person and make better choices and keep his family safe. The excuse they used for our hero to side with Cadogan did not fit. CADOGAN became the protagonist in the second half of the season. CADOGAN made all the choices that furthered the story. Our heroes were reduced to either brainwashed followers or ineffective, hysterical messes, our really not wanting anything to do with anyone’s salvation and just interested in their love life. It left Raven, Echo and Octavia to scramble around in the end and try to convince the purple sparkly gods not to erase them out of existence, just erase them and swallow them. :/ Cadogan as protagonist bringing humanity to “transcendence.”, Our supposed heroes as useless flotsam and jetsam floating around on the wreck of humanity whose choices and actions make no goddamn difference.

NOT COOL.

3. Character Storylines

Clarke’s storyline. NOT COOL. Bellamy’s storyline. NOT COOL. Octavia’s storyline. S.A COOL. S.B NOT COOL. Raven’s storyline. COOL. Echo’s storyline. S.A COOL. S.B NOT COOL. Murphy’s storyline. SUPER COOL. Emori’s storyline. SUPER COOL. Indra’s storyline.  COOL. Hope’s storyline. S.A COOL S.B NOT COOL. Jordan’s storyline. NOT COOL.  Diyoza’s storyline. COOL Gabriel’s storyline. COOL. Madi’s storyline. NOT COOL The grounders. Fucking morons. You really shouldn’t make a whole culture’s choices based around being absolutely too stupid to be allowed to live. EVEN when you get past xenophobia and learn about who they are and why they do things. NOT COOL. The culty people. Cool set up and world building. The society was dumb and had too many plot holes. MIDDLING SHEIDHEDA. NOT COOL. pointless plot device just used to make everyone forget everything they learned from 6 seasons. CADOGAN. COOL AS A VILLAIN. But he was the protagonist. So the ruination of the entire show and universe they created. NOT COOL.

SEASON A COOL OVERALL.  SEASON B NOT COOL. TOTAL SEASON NOT COOL

I think if people think the ending was supercool, they’ve never heard of a deus ex machina, and how that’s a BAD ending that is really just a cheat because you can’t figure out a way to get out of the story mess you made. 

I really hate post apocalyptic fiction that ends with no hope for humanity. JR kept telling us there was hope. I mean narratively, not in interviews, although he did that too, and in the last half season, he switched it around so they wouldn’t have hope, not even just our heroes, but all humanity. It was a bait and switch I did not appreciate. And I’m not talking about ships, I’m talking about the essential genre of the show. 

PS. thanks. I love my book and I hope someone picks it up so you all can read it. It also has elements of Han/Leia and another couple, Brashen/Althea from the Live Ship Traders book by Robin Hobb. They are, however, less traumatized than the characters in The 100. 

[damnzawa]

FIVE TIMES — A. SHOUTA

Summary : Five times the staff of U.A. and Class 1-A tried to get the two of you together but then realized you were together all along.

Warning(s): Immense fluff! Also tiny-weeny bit of smut.

The First Time: The time 1-A started shipping the two of you together

"Today we will be joining by the pro-hero H/n to help you learn more about tactics and planning." Aizawa stated in his usual monotone voice as he motioned for you to go in. You walked to the podium with a smile as you saw the faces of the students of 1-A upon hearing and seeing that you were here. It amazed you that Aizawa didn't even expel someone this year, they must be one hell of a bunch if that's the case. "You can ask her any questions within reason. Be quick." Rolling your eyes at Aizawa, you placed a hand on your hip as you looked at him.

"At least act like you're glad to work with me, Eraserhead." You pouted. "Anyways, I'm the pro-hero H/n! My name is L/n Y/n and I look forward to working with you guys! Especially since you're like the only class he hadn't expelled anyone." You snickered at the end, eyeing Aizawa from the corner of your eye. His left eye twitched as he shot you a glare which was a signal that you should just fucking continue.

"Any questions?" As soon as the words left your mouth almost all of the hands of the students shot up. You gladly answered all the questions they have for you like: what's your quirk, does it have drawbacks, what's it like to work with all might and yadda yadda yadda. For the last question, you pointed to a girl with pink skin and horns coming out of her head.

"Are you single?" If you were new to the hero scene, you would have certainly be flustered as hell but fortunately, you had been asked this question tons of times especially since you are a female hero. You nodded your head as Aizawa scolded Ashido—that was her last name—telling her that it was your personal business and that she shouldn't be nosy on other people's lives. You waved dismissively at Aizawa and told the class that you were used to questions like that so it doesn't bother you anymore that much.

"Well, okay then!" You clapped. "Get into your hero costumes and we'll be waiting for you on the training grounds!" You smiled as you ushered Aizawa outside the room, 1-A curiously staring at the way the two of you interact.

Their teacher doesn't seem to react like he usually does around you, he was even going with the flow of your antics, he even flicked your forehead at one point with a smirk! And what the fuck—was that a small smile, they saw? They were clearly confused about how the fuck did you have that kind of effect on him. Even Present Mic wouldn't get that reaction from him so what made you any different?

"Ms. L/n and Mr. Aizawa looks cute together." And with those words that came from Uraraka's mouth, 1-A's surprised looks—not all of them were surprised nor spared a glance at their teachers interacting—were replaced with knowing ones as they looked at each other clearly knowing what to do.

"I oppose to this, as Mr. Aizawa said—" But even with Iida scolding them they just continued with their plan anyway. Surprisingly Yaoyaorozu even put opinions on the plan with Todoroki nodding every once in a while, agreeing with her.

"Hurry up, future heroes! We don't have all day!" You exclaimed as you noticed that they were still in the room making Aizawa sigh. The students fastened their pace as they went to the changing rooms, after quickly agreeing to the plan.

"Hey Ms. L/n. Mr. Aizawa is super manly right?" Kirishima suddenly said to you once Aizawa took on the students as the 'villain' for the training they had for today. You looked over to Aizawa and immediately agreed with Kirishima. Not only manly with his looks, Aizawa was also manly when it comes to his personality. He was selfless, kind and passionate about what he was doing. He was so goddamn manly alright.

You hummed in agreement as your attention went from Aizawa to Kirishima who had a strange look on his face. "It's a shame though. Someone manly as Mr. Aizawa is single." You raised a brow at his statement. What was he implying?

"I'm sure Shouta will find love when we wants to. Though i'm sure the day he wants to find love is the day he wants to die." You giggled at your statement as Kirishima mentally face-palmed. Did you not get what he meant by that? For a hero, that went over your head quickly which surprised him.

"Maybe Mr. Aizawa needs someone to show him love if that's the case then." You smiled at the statement, clearly sensing the concern his student has for his teacher. Although he was pushing this topic, you didn't mind. He was true, Aizawa needs someone to show his hard ass some fucking love every once in a while.

"I'm sure he'll find that someone soon enough. Though i'm under the impression that he'll end up with Present Mic." Kirishima couldn't help but laugh at your statement. It was quite true though, at first the whole class 1-A thought that Aizawa was hella gay for Yamada. His laugh caught the eye of Aizawa who just shot you a look of disapproval, to which you just shrugged.

Kirishima excused himself from the heroine then walked towards his friends as he shook his head. The group frowned at the signal and just waited for their turn to take on Mr. Aizawa.

The Second Time: Yamada and Nemuri's great plan

"You should really take care of yourself Shouta." You nagged, Shouta just grunting and groaning at your nagging. "Don't grunt at me mister, you can't live on jelly packs forever!"

The duo watched as the of you bickered back and forth about you being a hypocrite as you were living on coffee all the fucking time and you defending yourself from him everytime. If a stranger came in through the door they would've guessed that the two of you are an old married couple fighting over each other's well being.

"Can you two fucking stop and just fuck already? The tension around you is very fucking high." Kayama intervened making the two of them abruptly stop. Aizawa shot Kayama a death glare while you blushed, quickly looking away so that they would not notice it but it was too late though, Hizashi saw and smirked.

Though Kayama used the wrong choice of words, there was indeed a tension around the two of you that they couldn't exactly pinpoint. They were tired of the said tension and just want their otp to be together forever and ever.

"Shut up, Nemuri. We're just friends! Friends that are looking out for each other!" You defended yourself earning an 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me' look from both Hizashi and Kayama. Are you that fucking dense? With you they never know.

"Yeah, yeah and i'm not loud all the fucking time. Sure Y/n." Hizashi stated earning a deadpanned look from Aizawa who decided not to say something because he knows this conversation will just get longer if he did and he wasn't exactly in the mood for that.

"Again, shut up the both of you." You groaned as you retreated back to your desk that was just beside Toshinori's who shot you a knowing look which you just dismissed. Of course Toshinori just had to look at you like that. He knows something they clearly don't and knows that someday you will have to tell them and you didn't want that someday to be today so you just plastered on a look that says 'No-Toshinori-Just-Shut-Up' which made him focus on his computer.

Kayama and Hizashi glanced at each other before walking towards you. You already know they had something planned when they approached you, their faces filled with mischief.

"... What do you want now?" You sighed through your nose. "Well, we were planning to go out for drinks later. Want to come? Shouta will come too, right Shouta?"

"No." Aizawa declined quickly upon hearing their preposition. Aizawa even though declining knew that Kayama and Hizashi wasn't gonna let him slide away that quickly. Just the thought of drunk Hizashi and Kayama made his head hurt.

"See? Shouta is coming! So what do you say?" Seeing as there was no way you were gonna avoid this, you just nodded and told them to go away quickly returning to your work. You really don't want to go but it was Hizashi and Kayama we're talking about.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! We're gonna have some fun later!"

—

"What happened to 'Hey! Hey! Hey! We're gonna have some fun later?'" You mocked Hizashi as you stood outside the restaurant with Aizawa waiting for the two that had just announced that they couldn't make it because of something with the school—which was obviously a fucking lie.

Aizawa—who was clearly not in a good mood—grunted and left without a word, leaving you there on the side walk alone. If he had been in a good mood he would've invited you inside to eat together and maybe even chuckle at your poor attempt at mocking Hizashi's voice but no that wasn't the case and instead he left you there with a fucking frown on your face. What a fucking gentleman, Aizawa is.

"He's so grumpy especially when he got no sleep." You pouted, taking your phone out and quickly plugging it into your headphones. "What an old man. He didn't even say goodbye nor walk me home." You mumbled as you started walking to the direction of your home after pressing on your go to playlist.

As 'The Ballad of Mona Lisa' by Panic! at the Disco came on, you smiled. This was a playlist that you made back for your 'emo phase' which Aizawa surprisingly liked. You weren't surprised though as he looked emo 24/7.

From behind the bushes on the other side of the road, the pair watched what happened and groaned. "'This will definitely work out' you said. Look genius, did it work out? No."

"It wasn't my fault they didn't take the bait! Don't blame me all for it Nemuri! Blame them too for being so fucking oblivious to their own fucking feelings!" And with that they continued to bicker like siblings, earning the attention of passersby. They didn't care though—when did they really care?

"Midnight? Present Mic? What are you doing over here?" Their bickering caught the attention of Iida, Midoriya and Uraraka as they walked to the station, clearly they weren't surprised that they were so fucking loud in the middle of the street because that's Present Mic and Midnight for you but they were confused as to why they were squabbling behind the bushes. Bushes, of all places.

"Nothing! We weren't spying or anything! Hehe..." Hizashi 'defended' making it look more obvious than it really is. The trio blinked at his statement, pros are like this these days? Geez.

"Fine! We were spying!" Hizashi gave in to the looks that were thrown at him by the dekusquad, them making a mental note to not say anything crucial to Hizashi fearing that he has loose lips. (He does have loose lips.)

"Who are you spying on? Was it Ms. L/n and Mr. Aizawa? We saw them on the way here but noticed that they went on their separate ways quickly." Uraraka stated. "Oh! Were they on a date?"

"Did our plan work?!" Midoriya exclaimed catching the attention of the two pro-heroes. Did 1-A ship the two of you too? They even planned something before the two of them! Damn, kids nowadays. They move fast.

"You guys had a plan too?" Hizashi asked and with that the two parties decided to do something for the two completely oblivious people in their lives.

The Third Time: In which 1-A, Hizashi and Kayama joined forces

"Goodbye Eraserhead!" Hizashi practically pushed Aizawa out the door as Midnight emerged from the other door minutes after. Most of 1-A were curious and confused as to why two pro-heroes were here for English but they just guessed that even Present Mic can have problems with English too.

"Alright, today we are gonna be joined by pro hero Midnight because we all have important matters to discuss." Hizashi stated slowly as a grin began to grow on his face. "We are gonna plan how Y/n and Shouta will confess to each other! Yeah!" Almost all of the students cheered because their teachers also shipped the two of them—and partially because no english yey—while some of them sighed asking themselves that this was important than english? They just went with the flow anyway, couldn't hurt to skip one lesson right?

"Now do you guys have suggestions?" Immediately upon asking that dozens of hands shot up, the faces of the students eager to share what they want to suggest. Yaoyorozu even raised her hand which was hella surprising.

"I suggest that they should just confess but in a manly way!" Kirishima's answer was broad yes but it gave Ashido an idea. "Oh! Maybe trap them in a room until they manly confess to each other!" Kirishima and Ashido high fived after, happy about their suggestion.

"Just fucking send them on a mission to kill each other—" Before Bakugo could even finish his suggestion, Aoyama cut in flashing his signature weird pose. "Bonjour! I suggest that we send them on a vacation, to France!"

"Bakugo's suggestion is too violent and Aoyama's is too expensive." Asui pointed out the obvious, her tongue sticking out from her mouth.

"Shut up Frogface! I wasn't asking your fucking opinion!" Bakugo responded to the future frog hero. They were surprised that Bakugo even threw in his suggestion in the first place—even though it was violent—let alone be annoyed at Asui's opinion.

"Make Mr. Aizawa or Ms. L/n jealous!" Cliché but there was a chance it could work. Sero hummed in agreement with Kaminari. It worked with some movies so it should work with them right?

Meanwhile Uraraka, Iida and Midoriya were brainstorming, not listening to what others were suggesting and asking Yaoyorozu and Todoroki for their opinions about what they have thought about. Once they've got the go signal for them to share their suggestion, Iida raised his hand and stood up. "I suggest that a certain student should use his quirk on them." Iida adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose as Kayama asked who the student was. "Shinsou Hitoshi."

"We could brainwash the other to confess to the other one! Nice!" Hizashi exclaimed giving Iida is signature finger guns. "Any other suggestions?" Tons of other ideas came around until they reached the decision by the end of the class.

"Well then, it's settled! We move after lunch!" And with that Hizashi and Kayama left, the students clearly excited about what's to come. Would they plan succeed? Only a few more hours to find out.

—

"Shinsou! Shinsou!" Midoriya called out to Shinsou who he luckily spotted walking towards Lunch Rush. The boy turned around and was shocked to even see not only Midoriya but almost all of Class 1-A running after him which made him tilt his head to the side. Why were they after him?

"Shinsou, we need you for something." Iida quickly explained what they needed him for catching him off guard as he smirked. Were they really that oblivious to the situation that they've gone such long heights just for the two of you? Well since Shinsou doesn't have anything to do anyways he decided to agree, at least this was gonna be fun.

"Sure. Where are they?" Shinsou asked, 1-A quickly and gladly giving him the information he needed.

They waved at Shinsou as they watched his back go further and further away. Kaminari wiped a non-existant tear on his face, "Damn. He's braver than the marines."

"He really is."

Shinsou took no time in finding you and Shouta since the two of you were together anyways. Shinsou understood why 1-A wanted the two of you together because damn you looked cute together. You and Aizawa could be that crime fighting couple that make the villains tremble with fear. The two of you would kick a lot of ass and take a lot of names together especially with your quirk.

"Good afternoon Ms. L/n and Mr. Aizawa." Shinsou greeted the both of you cutting yours and Aizawa's conversation short. "Can I excuse Ms. L/n for a while, sir?" Aizawa was confused as to why his student approached them and he grew even more confused when he asked him that. Aizawa nodded weakly as he watched Shinsou and you talk from afar. He noticed the way you interact with the kid and vice versa but failed to notice Shinsou using his quirk on Y/n.

"Goodbye, Ms. L/n." And with that Shinsou left, not wanting to see his mentor's reaction when he finds out that he used his quirk on Y/n. Shinsou knew his mentor would be furious but it's all gonna be worth it.

Class 1-A though wanted to see both of your reactions as they hid behind the two of them. This was finally it, they could feel it. Finally the day came where they were gonna see their otp come true. They waited in anticipation as you walked back to Aizawa.

"Hey Shouta, want to go out sometime?" And with that the effect of Shinsou's quirk vanished, leaving you confused. What the actual fuck happened?

"Wait—what? What happened?" You blinked as Aizawa sighed, clearly knowing what happened to you.

"Shinsou used his quirk on you." Aizawa sighed as he rubbed his temples. "Hurry up. We don't want to waste time." Aizawa said as he walked away, leaving you there. Clearly someone is grumpy today too.

"Wha—Hey Shouta! Wait for me, you old man!" You caught up to him quickly as you resumed your previous conversation.

1-A's hopeful looks were replaced with disappointed ones. Time for Plan B then.

The Fourth Time: Plan B a.k.a lock them in a room and hope that Shouta doesn't kill his students, Hizashi and Kayama

"Shouta! Shouta! We need you for something!" Hizashi screamed at Aizawa who just woke up from his nap. Rubbing his eyes, Aizawa let out an irritated sigh. What could they possibly want right now? It was too early for this bullshit. (Although it was past noon. But still, early for Shouta.)

"What is it, Yamada?" He asked, his usual monotone voice had a hint of irritation in it. "Well, Bakugo and Midoriya—" Aizawa paid no mind in letting Hizashi finish as the two names of those trouble makers were stated. He got up as Hizashi accompanied him to where the trouble was happening.

"Damn those problem children." Aizawa muttered under his breath. Just how many times do they have to fucking fight? Did they not learn after the last one? If that's the case then he got to drill it to their mind then.

"Where is it Hizashi?" He turned to face Hizashi who was now missing from his spot next to Aizawa. Aizawa looked around for any signs of Hizashi but found none, when did he disappear?

Aizawa sighed then decided to just walk back to the teacher's lounge. If this was a prank then he wasn't having any of it. He just wasted time and instead could've get grading done. Hizashi was gonna get it later.

Before he could even leave a force pushed him back to a dark room. He didn't expect that to happen. Was it a villain attack? He furrowed his eyebrows, no it's not a villain attack. If it was the alarms could've rang off. But what if they have a quirk that can silence the alarms? No, they have Present Mic he could've easily be the alarm.

So what was happening?

"Hey man, whoever the fuck you are. Can you like move? You're in my personal space." An oh so familiar voice told him making him sigh. Of course, it was another one of Hizashi's poor attempts on getting the two of them together. "Wait, I know that sigh." You stated before calling out to him. "Shouta? What are you doing here?"

"Since when were you trapped in here, Y/n?" Aizawa ignored your previous question as he searched for the light switch. You could've been there for like minutes before hin right?

"To be honest, I don't know how long i've been here for." This made Aizawa raise an eyebrow at her, if there had been a light you would've hit him in the shoulder already but thankfully there wasn't. He kept fucking searching for the light switch until he found one which was near the fucking door like all light switches were. When they finally had light they realized where they were.

A janitor's closet. Great, just so great. This was so clichè.

"Why didn't you use your quirk then?" You opened your mouth to defend yourself but closed it quickly. "Well... hehehe."

"You took a nap here didn't you." You scratched the back of your neck as you smiled sheepishly at Aizawa. It was true, you had infact taken a nap in the janitor's closet but in your defense you were so tired from the heroics class—you were used as the human punching bag—and was in desperate need of refulling your lost energy. So who could blame you for doing that?

"I was tired, ok. My eyes closed before I could even process it being closed!"

Aizawa let out a tch. You were an adult goddmanit. So why were you doing things like this?

"I'm kicking the door down." Aizawa stated before looking at you who already had your eyes closed. "Y/n."

"You go, do you." You stiffled a yawn with the back of your hand. "That nap still wasn't enough." You layed back down, exhaustion evident on your pretty face. Aizawa looked at you before deciding to lay down beside you and grunt at the lack of space.

"Wha—What are you doing?"

"Move. You're squishing me." You complied deciding not to protest. Good thing you both don't have classes to teach that afternoon or else you both would've been screwed.

Aizawa made himself comfortable beside you and instinctively wrapped a protective arm around you making you blush and scoot closer to him. He was radiating a nice warmth and had an aura of protectiveness around him which made you feel at home as you closed your eyes.

"I though you were going to kick down the door?" You lightly snickered at the end of your statement.

"I got tired." Of course, he was always tired anyways. After a few minutes of silence, you let the darkness envelop you in a welcoming hug and with that, the both of you fell asleep on each other's arms. Clearly not knowing about the crowd that was on the other side of the door, listening to everything they say.

"Do you hear anything Jirou?" She shooked her head as an answer. "Let's wait a few more minutes then." The few more minutes turned into a few hours as they all began to worry.

"Are they dead?" Kaminari asked from the back. 1-A's eyes widened as they realized Kaminari could be right. The both of you could've suffocated in there but wouldn't Aizawa get the both of you out minutes after being locked in there?

"Maybe they're having some fun!" Kayama exclaimed making their worried faces turn into disgust. If they were 'having some fun' they would've heard especially with a quirk like Jirou's.

"Let's just break them out and hope that Shouta would not kill us." And with that they opened the lock, only to reveal a sleeping you with Aizawa. Your legs were tangled together as you laid your head on his chest, both of you breathing evenly. They all let out a sigh of relief that the both of you didn't die—and because Aizawa wouldn't kill them instantly on the spot—and let the two of you be with frowns plastered on their faces after taking a few (hundred) pictures of course.

They were confused. How the fuck did that not work? It was perfect! Well, atleast for them. They failed once again but that doesnmt mean that they'll give up that easily! It's time to move to Plan C and they know the perfect person for the job.

The Fifth Time: Make Aizawa jealous

"Thank you for doing this Tensei." You thanked Iida as you wheeled him towards 1-A's heroic's class. "It really means so much to me, to us."

"Nah, it's no problem! I wanted to see Tenya in action and U.A. Feels nostalgic, you know?" You nodded clearly knowing what he meant by that. When you first started teaching at U.A.—by Midnight's recommendation—tons of memories quickly bombarded you as soon as you stepped inside the school grounds like how you met Aizawa and Hizashi, your first sports festival and etc. It was all nostalgic to you that you almost teared up just by how far you and your classmates have gone.

"I miss U.A." He pouted. "And I miss you too!"

"Aww, I miss you too Tensei."

"Plus, who would decline a proposal from a pretty girl from you?" Iida's voice suddenly began louder as he stated that when the two of you arrived in front of 1-A's room. You giggled at his statement and stretched your hand to open the door but before you could Aizawa already opened the door for the both of you.

"Thanks, Eraserhead!" You wheeled Iida in, clearly in a good mood to see another one of your best friends again. If you had the time you would certainly visit Iida but you were pretty busy nowadays and the only way you can communicate with him is through texts which was obviously not enough.

"Alright-y then. Shall we start?" You asked the pro-heroes beside you with a smile. As the pro-heroes explained, 1-A could sense how uncomfortable Iida was. Of course he would be uncomfortable. His brother was gonna flirt with his teacher for fucks sake. Who could blame him?

"Time for Plan C! Make Aizawa jealous!!" Hizashi announced once homeroom was over and Aizawa was out of earshot. "Normally it was make L/n jealous but since Ms. Joke is not available, we changed it to 'make Aizawa jealous!'" Hizashi rambled on as Kayama appeared, seducingly emerging from the door.

"Yes Iida?" Hizashi called Iida as his hand shot up instantly after hearing the words slip out from the english teacher's mouth. "May I ask who is the person we are gonna ask to make Mr. Aizawa jealous?"

"Great question, Iida!" Hizashi and Kayama shared a look before laughing. "Iida. Can you call your brother?" Hizashi asked in between laughs. Iida froze at his teacher's request, his eyes widening.

"Eh?! Ingenium?!" The class roared out clearly surprised at who they chose. "May I ask why my brother?"

"Again, good question Iida!" This time it was Kayama who spoke up. "Tensei is and I quote Y/n's bestest friend besides us. I remember how close they were when we were in high school! Some even thought they were dating but in truth they weren't. They're just good friends, very good friends at that."

"I remember Y/n even babysitted you Iida!" Iida blushed in embarrassment, did she really? Well he was a baby at that time, he wouldn't remember it now.

"Let's start planning!" And with that 1-A—not all of them though Bakugo and Todoroki seemed interested—clustered around the podium where the planning began. A lot of ideas were given out and a lot were sadly rejected but that didn't bring their spirits down as more ideas came after.

"Well then! Give your brother a call Iida! Tell him about the plan and i'll tell Y/n about heroic's class tomorrow! Surely Iida will be the perfect candidate for that!" And with that Hizashi and Kayama dismissed them feeling proud of what they've done and accomplished.

"Are you sure this will work? Shouta seems to be like the type who doesn't get jealous." At first glance Aizawa isn't a man to be possesive over something so this plan may be a bust but Hizashi knows his best friend better than Kayama, he was sure as hell Aizawa will get jealous once Iida starts flirting with you.

"Oh, just trust me Nemuri! This will work out!" Kayama quirked a brow at him then decided to just trust Hizashi, he knows a lot more about you and Aizawa after all.

"Now that all of that is done, please wear your hero costumes and go outside!" Before Aizawa could even speak to you, you wheeled Iida out already engaged in a conversation with him. You didn't even bother to spare a glance at Aizawa as you talked with Iida, immediately catching up to what's happening with him these past few days. He slipped in a few compliments—that he made sure Aizawa heard—and comments about you that made you giggle.

Toshinori felt the same tension again. He looked at Aizawa only to find him staring at Iida and you but mostly you. Toshinori almost let out a laugh seeing Aizawa's expression when Iida flirted with you and could only guess that this was a work done by Hizashi and Kayama because Iida would never like you in that way, he made it clear when you were in high school.

"Thank you again for inviting me, Y/n. Brings back good memories." You smiled widely at Iida and told him that it was no problem, after all he was a pro-hero like her and pro-heroes help each other out.

"I was wondering, would you like to go out sometime?" Aizawa's eye twitched once Iida asked the question. He was irritated that you didn't even told Iida off when he was clearly flirting with you and most of all he was annoyed by the fact that you agreed on his proposal, asking him what time and when. That was the last straw for Aizawa and Toshinori could sense something blunt and sharp coming.

"Are you both done flirting? We have a class to teach so I suggest you wrap things up and proceed to the gym." You were taken aback by Aizawa's outburst but then moments later you smirked. Was he jealous? Aizawa walked past the two—like he was in a hurry—leaving the three of them dumbfounded.

"What was that about?" Iida asked you feigning confusion but on the inside he was proud at the outcome of his work. He got Aizawa jealous and that was a rare occassion.

"I have a feeling somebody has their period today." You joked making the two of them—yes even Toshinori—laugh but on the inside you know you were screwed. Aizawa was gonna give you the cold shoulder from then on and you knew it.

When all of you arrived at the gym, 1-A and Iida (Tensei) waited for anything to happen but... nothing. Nothing happened except for the little outburst from Aizawa earlier. They even waited after school hours when they were at the faculty room but no, no, no. Still nothing.

"I'm sorry guys." Hizashi and Kayama practically slumped over upon hearing Iida's apology. Their last plan failed once again but they had hoped it gave them the push to say something, anything to each other.

Little did they know, they confessed to each other years back, when they were still in high school.

When Hizashi and Kayama found out

Hizashi and Kayama still didn't give up after many failed attempts so when they had another plan they went to your office, excited about the upcoming events.

"I sure hope this fucking work or else i'm gonna smash their skulls together." Kayama grunted as she pushed the door of your office open and what they saw left their mouths hanging.

Moments before the two of them walked in on you and Aizawa making out, Aizawa had confronted you about what happened earlier with Iida (Tensei). Of course he was jealous and to make things worse you poke fun of him because of it.

He got angry but didn't even dared to raise his voice at you because he wanted to solve this in the rational and logical way possible and you knew that. After all those years of knowing him and vice versa, both of you learned to adapt to each other's needs. For example if Aizawa came home stressed, you'll know it before he even informs you and makes him everything he needs and more. Also, if you're feeling down he'll know to talk to you about it instead of leaving you to cool down because he'll know you'll bottle it up until you can no longer surpress it. There was even this one time where Aizawa tried to hide his worries from you but you knew him, the real him and you instantly knew that something was wrong. Turns out it was just his nerves from asking you something life changing.

"Shouta." You called him, placing your fingers under his chin making him look at you. "You know that I will never do that right? Tensei meant go out as friends. Besides I know what was behind his flirting all this time." Aizawa's piercing gaze softened upon seeing your face. You wrapped your arms around his midsection making him sigh and returning the gesture.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just got... possesive." You giggled at his statement. Although it resulted in an argument seeing him jealous gave off a sexy vibe from him which you incredibly loved—you'll never admit it openly but knowing Aizawa he probably knows by now.

"I'm sorry for being angry." His voice was soft as he uttered the words that made you smile. This was the side that you only get to see, warming your heart as you hugged him tighter. You were glad to see this side of Aizawa, you were glad to see that he trusts enough to put down his walls and let you through, you were glad—heck beyond glad even.

The next moments were a bit blur to you as it started with just a simple kiss filled with passion from you and Aizawa but when his kisses became a little heated that's when things really started. He bit your lip making you gasp earning him an entrance to your mouth as your tongues fought for dominance, Aizawa clearly being the winner.

Back to present time, Aizawa pinned you against the wall, his hands on your waist as he began attacking your neck with kisses making you ran a hand through his hair, your fingers threading through his raven locks.

Was this real? You didn't know. You were sure you were dreaming right now or perhaps in heaven. But nope, this was the reality. The reality you love. The reality that Aizawa Shouta, 1-A's homeroom teacher, underground hero, pro-hero Eraserhead was your husband.

Yup, this shaggy hobo looking man was your husband. No one really knew except for your families and Toshinori who happened to stumble upon the two of you just like this except that the two of you were in the hospital that time.

Aizawa bit the sensitive spot on your neck, the both of you still not noticing the presence of the duo that kept bugging you and Aizawa to just confess and get together. Too ingrossed in your activities, you didn't even hear their footsteps.

"Oh my god!" Hizashi screeched making the two of you break apart as you stared at Hizashi and Kayama with wide eyes. Holy shit, you were found out now and they found out while the two of you were making out. Fucking making out. Why now out of all the days you were making out with Shouta?

"What do you guys want? Can't you see i'm busy with my wife?" Aizawa nonchalantly stated as his face showed irritation. He wasn't irritated at the fact that Hizashi and Kayama finally knew, he was irritated at the fact that Hizashi and Kayama disturbed the two of them while they were in the middle of something good.

You on the other hand was shocked at what Aizawa just informed the two loud mouths and blushed upon seeing the two of them stared at you with those fucking knowing looks. Oh boy, there was no way of escape now.

After 5 years he decided to tell them like it was not a big deal at all but you knew Aizawa cared, he always did. He just want the two of them to shut up but that wasn't the case. Upon hearing what Aizawa said, the two of them squealed.

"Wife?! Did Shouta just say wife?!" Hizashi was practically crying now, telling the world how proud he was of his best friend. "When did the wedding happen?! Why were we not invited?!"

"It happed five years ago Hizashi, and Shouta and I just wanted a small wedding with close family only. I hope you understand." You sheepishly smiled at the two of them.

"I guess we'll leave you two now." Kayama said with a wink as she dragged Hizashi out of the office. "Use protection, kids!"

Just seconds after the door closed, Aizawa who was still pressing you on the wall asked with a smirk, "I don't think we even need protection. Now where were we?"

Oh boy, let's just say that neither of you did your work the whole night and just did each other instead.

"Y/n! Are you ok? You should go to Recovery Girl! Your neck is full of bruises!" Hizashi 'innocently' screamed out in the teacher's lounge earning the attention of all the pro-hero teachers currently in said lounge.

Your face grew red as they stared at you. Of  course Hizashi had to notice the marks Aizawa left as a 'remembrance' of the night before and of course he just had to scream it out loud in a room filled with people. You were glad though that he hadn't proclaimed it infront of the students because that will be even more embarrassing—atleast for you.

You secretly flipped the bird to Aizawa who just chuckled then wrapped his capture weapon around his neck even more, hiding the endless amount of love bites placed there.

"Oh! Shouta! You have them too! Are you both ok?! Do you have allergies or something?!" Hizashi yelled out. With a smirk you looked over to Aizawa once again as he grunted and swatted Hizashi away but it was too late now. The whole faculty knows by now as their gazes were placed on you then to Aizawa and vice versa.

Needless to say, the next day was full of teasing and belated congratulations from the two and the staff—with the two of them word spreads quickly—which they had to endure.

When 1-A found out

"As heroes, your goal is to not only fight off villains but to rescue and protect the civillians as well. You should remember that. Especially you Bakugo." The boy scoffed at his teacher's words as he looked away which Aizawa knew was a sign that Bakugo acknowledged his words. "Today we are—" a knock cut Aizawa's sentence making him sigh. Who could it possibly be?

Aizawa walked to the door slowly as his students anticipated who could the visitor be. Could it be a pro-hero? Yes, that could be it but their teacher didn't mention any training with another pro-hero today. So, who was it?

Aizawa opened the door slightly and was face to face with his lovely wife standing there with a huge smile on her face. Aizawa made a mental note that he should wear sunglasses everytime his wife beams at him with that big smile, it was too bright for him seeing as you were the literal sunshine but Aizawa didn't protest though, seeing that smile of yours instantly refreshed him and gave him energy. But why the hell were you here? Lunch isn't near and he was sure as hell that you took a sick leave due to you feeling ill for the past few days. So what brought you here exactly?

"Hi Shouta!!!" You greeted him loudly earning the attention of the students. You didn't mean to say that so loud but excitement was kicking in and you felt very happy at that time, incredibly happy even. You felt that you could solve the crisis involving world peace just with your happiness and that was an understatement.

"Miss L/n?!" The students panicked, you were here? They sweated nervously as they were reminded about the homework they had to do. In truth they hadn't done it yet because they were incredibly busy so seeing you outside their classroom made their hearts race. "But what are you doing here Ms. L/n? I thought you were sick!"

You sighed clearly knowing what the fuss was about. "Mina, I am sick but I need to excuse your teacher for some important matters and it's ok if you hadn't done your homework yet but make sure to submit it on or before friday next week." The students let relieved noises as soon as they heard the last statement but Aizawa was more focused on the 'I need to excuse your teacher for some important matters' part. Was there somethimg wrong?

"All right. Iida, control your classmates. I'll be going outside for a moment." And with that Aizawa closed the door behind him before dragging you as far as possible from the eavesdropping students. Your statement made him worried as millions of logical probabilities rushed through his head, one probabilty standing out than the most.

Were you gonna ask for a divorce? Aizawa hoped that, that wan't the case.

"You're not gonna ask for divorce, are you?" Aizawa hesitantly voiced his thoughts, earning a blank look from you. What made Aizawa think that?

"Shouta." You called while placing the palm of your hand on his cheek, him leaning into your touch almost instantly. "What made you think that I'm gonna ask you for divorce?"

Shouta opened his mouth to tell you all the logic behind his question but was immediately cut off by you, "Don't ever doubt yourself or us, Shouta. I love you as you love me so that will not be happening." Aizawa felt relieved but the bugging feeling didn't go away as the question in his mind remained unanswered. Why were you here then?

"I'm here because of good news not bad news." You stated, your smile returning to your face. Aizawa could tell that this smile was brighter and bigger than the last one so it gave him the fact that you were incredibly happy at the moment because of said news. "Well atleast it's good news for me."

"What is it?" You could feel your excitement coming out an in instant once he asked you the question you've been waiting for him to say. You happily dug through your mess of a bag to reveal a stick to him with a plus sign on the center.

A stick with a plus sign.

A plus sign.

Aizawa's eyes widened as he stared lovingly at the stick you were holding. You waited for his reaction and once you got it you were very much satisfied with the result.

Aizawa placed his large hands on your belly, the stick still on his left hand but he didn't care. Tears welled up in your eyes as you saw his smile mirrored yours—bright, big and clearly expressing how happy he felt at the moment.

"I'm going to be a father." He murmured on your shoulders as he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. You nodded through your tears as Aizawa's grip on you tightened a little—not to the point he's trying to kill you though—clearly not wanting to let go of you. This news made his heart long and beat for you even more.

"I love you." He said with not his usual monotone but a softer voice filled with emotion that he clearly felt for you. "I love that you make me the happiest man on the universe, every fucking day." His confession made you cry even harder, wetting his black hero costume even more but you both didn't care at the moment. You were gonna be a family now. A family. A family that you both wanted. A family that you both will cherish and love until the day death do you apart. A family to care for, look out for. A family that will grow, stay and learn with the both of you.

Oh how excited the both of you are.

"I love you too, Aizawa Shouta." You replied before adding, "I love you so fucking much that my heart hurts with happiness everytime I see or think of you."

Class 1-A didn't mean to eavesdrop once again but they couldn't help but let curiousity kill the cat. They saw the heart fluttering and precious moment between their usually stoic, emotionless teacher and his wife that made them burst out in tears. They were sure their teacher knew they were there but they still kept their cries silent so that it wouldn't interrupt the moment.

That still didn't stop Mina from exclaiming this though.

"Aizawa-sensei and Ms. L/n are married?!" The exclamation earned the attention of the couple as they broke apart, seeing 1-A infront of them with tears on their eyes. "Then all our planning was useless?!" And with that Mina cried harder making you chuckle, not all their plans went to waste though if you could say so yourself.

"Go back to class." Aizawa ordered them with a glare making them shuffle and leave the scene immediately after shouting out a, "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Aizawa!!"

"They truly are an exceptional bunch huh?" You leaned into Aizawa as he placed an arm around your shoulders. "They are a pain in the ass but they are my pain in the ass."

"Aw! Seeing you act like that for your 20 other kids makes me even more excited that you're gonna have another one." You snickered. "If you're their dad then I'm the mom right?"

"Don't." Aizawa grunted making you laugh.

"What?! It's true though!" Seeing Aizawa's expression made you laugh even more. "Oh don't give me that look Dadzawa."

"Don't call me that."

"Dadzawa!" You stated his new nickname making him sigh.

"You're lucky I put up with you."

"Aren't you supposed to say, 'You're lucky I love you'?" Aizawa shook his head then left you there in the hallway after replying with a, "No. See you at home, Y/n."

Extra:

"Congratulations Dadzawa!" Hizashi and Nemuri exclaimed at the same time once again earning the attention of the whole faculty on them.

"Don't fucking call me that, Yamada."

"Oh please, keep calling him that from now on. I'm sure babyzawa will like that." You chuckled as you kissed Aizawa's cheek before leaving the faculty room. "Goodluck dealing with them Dadzawa!"

Aizawa's eye twitched as he felt the attack coming from Hizashi and Nemuri. Oh boy it's gonna be a long long day today.

[billiewena]

for the 100k fic celebration, here a portion of the “what if 10x05 had a sastiel agenda?” AKA lil shit sam/jealous dean destiel fic I first shared a while back! been having a lot of fun basically rewriting and expanding on the entire musical episode with new songs (and lots of cute kristen & siobhan moments because OF COURSE they’re still a couple.) it was really encouraging to see the positive response to it back then and it's been taking forever because of work/other writing but I’m so excited to have this one be the first full-length fics I ever post.

It starts with costumed teenagers locked in a tight embrace with absolutely no room for Jesus.

“What are they doing?”

Marie glances over her shoulder for only a brief second.

“Kids these days call it hugging,” she says slowly. Geez, it would’ve been less insulting for her to just outright say Wow, you’re old.

Except it’s not just any of the show’s stars hugging over there. One of them is the “Dean” who’d been mid-rehearsal when they arrived and looked more like Bieber than him with the blonde wig. And the other? Well, he would recognize that Columbo coat anywhere.

“Is that in the show?” he asks, pointing their way.

Marie quickly shakes her head at the accusation. “Oh, no. Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in a real life.”

He nods and lower his hand. Got it. That’s all it was. Everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about—

“No, my play explores the nature of Sastiel.”

“The — wait, what?” he says, confused at once.

“Sastiel?” Marie pauses, giving him a second to figure it out. He doesn’t. “You know, the relationship between Sam and Castiel?”

Dean blinks.

“Sam and…C-Cas?”

“I know, I know. Edlund’s series never finished. I’m lucky I got these drafts. Ugh, it’s Midnight Sun all over again. But the love story is all in the subtext,” she says with confidence. “Can you believe there are people who still think Destiel is endgame? After everything that happened after the angels fell? After Gadreel? Please.”

He silently sounds out the word. Des-tiel? Wait…

“Ever since Cas came back from the dead and took on Sam’s pain, I knew. I just knew. Every one of their arcs had been parallel to each other’s from their fall from grace to the trials. And now with Dean gone, all they have…is each other.”

Marie sighs. “Besides, you can’t spell subtext without S-E-X.”

He coughs and nearly chokes on an asteroid-sized lump in his throat.

“I…uh. Yeah, th-that’s not…you know, I think I’ve seen enough,” Dean says with a forced smile. “Thank you for your, ah, time. I’ll, uh, we’ll follow up if we have questions about the missing persons case. I—alright.”

And with that he purses his lips, turns on his heel and walks away — nearly tripping over one of the stage chords as he does. Why are there are so many of them anyways? This is just some all-girls school production, not the goddamn West End.

He finds Sam in his natural nerd habitat (the tech booth) sifting through all the bins of A/V supplies.

“Yeah, not to interrupt the blast from the past here but it’s time for us to go,” he says, patting the door.

His brother shoots him an annoyed look but packs up and follows him out all the same. Not that Dean bothers to wait for him; no, he makes a beeline for the car as soon as he leaves the booth.

“Hey, what’s with the rush?” Sam calls after him as he runs to catch up with him at the school entrance.

“No rush,” he says shortly. “Just wanted to see what you found out before you got too lost in the nerd sauce over there.”

He doesn’t need to look back to know he’s on the receiving end of a Classic Sam Bitchface right now and continues to stomp his way through the parking lot.

“Well, no EMF, no hex bags. None of their props are remotely hinky. Talked to Maeve and all those extras in the auditorium.” Sam finally catches up and walks side-by-side with him now. “You have any more luck?”

“Nah. Ms. Chandler's office is just a pile of empty bottles and regret. She's probably just face down in a bar somewhere. Or a ditch. I did get to hear all about the director’s, ah, creative vision though,” Dean says, teeth gritted. “Apparently we go into space, I become a woman, and there’s even ninjas and robots!”

“Robots. Huh. Well, that’d definitely be a new one.”

“There’s no robots in Supernatural—”

“I-I know that,” Sam says in exasperation. “I just mean it’s, y’know, innovative. And Dean we’ve fought weirder. Remember the teddy bear? The fairies? The ballet shoes?”

“Well, you just wait until you hear about what she in store for you, Lover Boy,” he says.

And that makes Sam do an instant double-take.

“Uh, Lover Boy?”

“Yeah, your number one fan back there —” he says, gesturing back towards the school, “— was telling me all about the play’s, uh, love story between you and Cas. You got something you’ve been meaning to tell me or what?”

“The love story? Wait, what do you mean me and Cas?”

Dean scoffs, already in utter disbelief of the words he was about to say. “Like you and Cas, together. Together together? Romance of the ages the way she made it sound. Apparently it’s all in her play!”

To his surprise though, Sam just… laughs. “Well, I mean hey, that’s an improvement from the ones who wrote about me and you.”

“You got that right,” he agrees with a shudder. Meeting one Becky the Stalker was bad enough. Knowing she wasn’t alone and that she had an audience made it even worse. “She even had a portmanteau for you, dude. Like you’re some celebrities in a grocery store tabloid. Sass-tiel.”

“Sass-tiel?” He seems to seriously consider it but shrugs. “I don’t know. What about… Samstiel? CasSam? Cam? Mmm, maybe not that…”

Dean groans. “Really? That’s your issue with this?”

“Of course it’s not my issue,” Sam says. He stays pensive for a few more seconds until chuckling again to himself this time, as if he’s the only one in on a private joke. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Cas is great but…”

“Not your type?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam says. No, it’s definitely more than that and he’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding his amused expression.

Dean turns and stares him down. “What?”

“I dunno,” he says, his smirk fully visible now. “I just think it’s funny they’re pairing me up with Cas when the one with the ‘profound bond’ with him is right there.”

“Oh, haha. You’re hilarious,” Dean retorts at once.

“Hey man, I’m not the one who stayed in Purgatory for a year to find him.”

His glare takes on a murderous edge.

“Okay. You know what? You’re going to do that thing where you just shut the hell up! Forever!”

Sam holds up his hands in either what’s either a show of innocence or surrender.

“Alright, alright. Well, other than the Charlie Kaufman of it all I got nothing.”

“So…what?” Dean says. “This-this all... This whole musical thing, everything, it's... it's all a coincidence? There is no case?”

“Unless you're seeing something I'm not, no, Dean. There's no case here,” he says sincerely this time.

“Come on. This has classic Trickster vibes all over it.” He almost wants to turn around and start yelling, Come on out Gabriel you bastard!

“Trickster’s dead, man. And he wasn’t just a trickster, he was an archangel. And they’re all gone too.”

“Could be a lower-rank angel?” Dean tries. “I mean, Zachariah pulled off an entire apocalypse world. And that place where we were both corporate drones. Before you know it, this’ll get all Buffy and it’ll be me and you singin’ and dancin’—“

“Dean…I think it’s just fans. Look, as long as they’re not putting another love spell on one of us I couldn’t really care less what they’re doing,” Sam says with some bitterness, clearly not looking back at that particular memory with any fondness. “Just writing some songs? I mean, it’s innocent enough.”

“Oh yeah, so innocent,” he scoffs. “They’re singing about our dead parents, your demon blood bender, the apocalypse, all of it! This is just…it’s make-believe for them! But it’s our lives!”

Sam runs a tired hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t get it either man. I wasn’t exactly thinking about the books’ entertainment value while Chuck was describing my sex life in vivid detail—“

“Don’t remind me,” he says, holding up a hand in disgust.  

“—but I dunno. There’s obviously something about it they connected to, right? Something they related to, something that moved them, inspired them? And I guess…I mean, what’s wrong with that?”

There is so, so much wrong with that.

“I don’t know what story they’re reading and what Sam and Dean they’re ‘connecting’ to here. But it sure as hell ain’t us. I mean…they even made me blonde, dude.”

“It’s a high school play, what can you expect?” Sam laughs. “It was probably the closest wig they could find at Party City.”

Dean ignores him, muttering aloud as he makes his way to the driver’s seat.

“The hair…the singing…the robots… the love story…”

“You really were bothered by that, weren’t you?” Sam gives his brother a curious look.

“SUPERNATURAL ISN’T A ROMANCE!” Dean snaps. “Look, these girls obviously don’t know what they’re talking about—“

“I dunno, Dean,” Sam said in a clearly taunting voice now. “Maybe you’re just jealous of what me and Cas have.”

He flushes. “W-what? I-I’m not—“

“We could give you two a name too, y’know? So you don’t feel left out? What about…Dee-stiel? CasDean?”

And he refuses to entertain this conversation any longer.

“Shut your face! Get in the car!”

Thankfully Sam notices the shift in tone and obliges at once.

Dean, meanwhile, takes a moment outside the car to glance around — almost as if checking to see if anyone overheard that comment. Not that it mattered. Who could overhear? No one even knew they were THE Sam and THE Dean. Who cared? He certainly didn’t care. He didn’t care at all...

(to be continued)