#but when it’s period nausea water does jack shit

[psychoticwillgraham]

tfw ur both coming down from a caffeine overdose and also on ur period at the same time and the nausea and splitting headache hits you at the exact same time :(((( like. I don’t think guzzling water is gonna fix this lads :((

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I felt as though since this story had such a specific narrative (especially delving into the harsh world of modeling and the effects of discrimination) that it would reach out to a very specific niche of reader.

I was actually astonished by loud support this fic has obtained so for, so thank you so much! I cannot stress enough how much that means to me. 

HnM 💕

Tag-list: @steggy4ever​ @library-trash​ @watevermelon​ @glimmadora-ble​ @persephones24​ @dragonempress123​ @your-pri-ncess @broken-from-fandoms​ @hot-pocket01​ @tsukineho​

Month 1, Month 3

--Month 2--

No.

You looked at the stick of plastic in your hand with wide eyes as your mouth stuttered into a slack jaw—your breaths hardly making their way in and out of your lungs evenly.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you saw white spots underneath your lids before you snapped them back open again, internally praying that you would wake up form whatever nightmare you were having.

However, you couldn’t blink away the big, fat smiley face that stared back up at you from the piece of purple and white plastic that sealed your fate.

No. No. No!

The sudden urge to puke came back with a vengeance and you threw yourself to the toilet, slamming your knees to the ground in the process. As your stomach lurched up into your chest, you couldn’t tell whether the tears forming in your eyes were from the harshness of the motion or something else entirely.

“Gah!” you loudly choked out as you pulled away from the mess in the toilet. 

Once the nausea became slightly less debilitating you leaned back against your bathtub, throwing your head up as you groaned to the ceiling, “No, no, no, nooo…” you softly sobbed. You tried your best to keep from bawling so you didn’t find yourself with your head back in the bowl, but you couldn’t help the stream of hot tears that spilled from your eyes as you stared at the vent in the ceiling.

How could this happen? How could you be… pr...

A sudden stirring in your gut made you swallow hard as you tried to keep your stomach out of your throat.

Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. You took sex education in high school. You put the condom on the banana and were scolded with constant threats of STDs and the fires of Hell like everybody else. So yeah. You know how it happened.

You sighed as you thought back to all the guys you had slept with recently-- which was luckily not too many within the past few months, and only one since your last period.

Fuck, you didn’t even remember what the damn fathe-- guy looked like.

Well, excluding his rippling muscles.

You threw your head into your hands as the uncanny image of a body builder newborn infiltrated your mind. Well, that didn’t fucking help at all. Grabbing your hair tightly as you stared at the tile between your legs, you cursed yourself, “You dumbass! How could you be so goddamn stupid!? Stupid, stupid, stupid!” you repeatedly knocked against your skull.

You reached into the recesses of your memory for any information you might have about the guy. Where was his apartment again...? On the other side of town somewhere right… Near Club 52? God, you didn’t even fucking know! and what did it matter anyway, huh? What were you gonna do? Storm up to his place, pregnancy tests a-blazin’, and tell the complete stranger that you were carrying his kid?!

With a weak and tired moan, you lifted yourself off of your bathroom floor and went to the sink to rinse your bile infested mouth out and wash the salty tears off of your cheeks.

But not before you got a good look at yourself in the mirror.

Swollen eyes.

Red nose.

Drying, teary snot pooling on the rim of your upper lip.

“You look like shit,” you harshly reprimanded yourself before turning the sink on and sticking your face into the cool water. Your hands blindly reached around your counter until you finally grabbed a nearby hand towel to bring to your face. As you patted your cheeks dry, your eyes wandered to the counter where three other positive pregnancy tests that you had taken earlier that morning resided.

The trio all sported a similar smug smile as they looked up to you as if to say ‘we told you so.’

The little shits.

“Shut up.” You quickly grabbed all four tests and with a hint of bitterness chucked them into a nearby trash bin before making your way to your bedroom across the hall.

Plopping down onto your screeching mattress, you took your phone out:

Boss Lady

[2:50 pm]

Hey, brat. I hope you’re doing better.

Don’t forget that we have that runway fitting next week. And the test shots. And the international scouting event.

Think. Thin.

No carbs. No red meats.

NO ALCOHOL!!!

Fucking no alcohol for nine whole months. You attempted to scoff at this, but what came out could have probably been mistaken for the last sounds of a dying animal.

Kimi:

[3:31 pm]

Hope you made it home safe last night!

As you read this text, a piece of you wished that maybe you hadn't made it home safe last night... Your brain briefly wandered into the dark territories of ‘what if’s’ as you imagined falling in front of the train at the subway, walking past a drug deal gone wrong, hell-- drowning on the water you took with your Pepto Bismol. You quickly brushed these thoughts away as you continued looking through your phone, 

Boss Lady

[4:45 pm]

Oh, also Deku just asked for a meeting with you personally.

You’re going of course. Glad you got his attention. Good girl.

Tomorrow.  5:00pm. El Vino’s downtown. (EAT LIGHTLY!)

Inches! Inches! Inches!

You slammed your phone down onto your mattress as you loudly sighed.

Inches. Your entire livelihood depended on your damn inches and now there was no way you could maintain the “golden ratio.” The thought made your blood churn.

Modeling… was all that you had. You didn’t have any other fucking talents—no quirk to depend on-- so when would your growing stomach steal your life away?

When do people even start ‘showing’? 

You haven’t come across many pregnant women, but all of the ones you have seen either looked like normal people or like freaking beach balls. For some reason your brain couldn’t conjure an intermediate.

Did they just blow up out of nowhere? If so, then when? How long could you pull a ruse off before your growing organ snitched on you? 5 months? 6 months? Next fucking week?

You realized then that you knew next to jack squat about pregnancy.

Or damn kids for that matter.

Okay so... abortion? For some reason, even just the thought of that word made an icky taste surge in your mouth—or maybe it was the leftover vomit, who knows?

To be honest, you had never really thought much on abortion before—it was one of the many topics filed into your brain under ‘that does not and will not pertain to me, so why the fuck should I care?’ Filtered out and forgotten, your feelings on abortion had yet to be developed.

Until now.

After a few beats, you opened your phone back up and began to dial Kimi, fearing that you might soon explode with the brunt of knowledge that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

You paused.

Had you ever actually talked to her about anything that wasn’t exclusively work related? In the past two years of knowing her, have you ever actually learned anything about her, and she about you? Very suddenly, you were slapped in the face by a crude fact: Kimi was just a work-friend.

That was fucking fine and dandy up until now. You pretty much either worked, or drank, or showed up to work drunk. But now…

Shit.

Who the hell else could you call? You barely had any friends, and you hadn’t talked to your family in what felt like ages. Who was there for situations like this? If half of your life was working, and half of your life was drinking, and your work friends were a no go… what about your drinking friends? Your mind briefly fled to the stashes of your best buddies-- vodka and tequila-- that you kept in your kitchen.

But not even they could save you now.

Fuck you really were alone.

That night, you found yourself constantly flipping your pillow to find a new dry spot to assault with fresh tears. You hadn’t cried so much since you were a kid. Wait-- come to think of it, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried at all.

So, was it hormones? Pregnancy hormones?

The surreal thought made your tears fly down your face even more furiously.

The next evening there was practically no trace or evidence of your mental breakdown from the night before as you strolled up to El Vino’s. It was honestly kind of frightening how quickly you had managed to pull yourself together before this little meeting—but mostly, it was empowering.

Okay, Y/N. You fucking got this. Hormones or not, you were still a baddie to your very core.

Deku was easy enough to spot in the little Mediterranean themed restaurant—with the green-ass hair and all. You strolled up to the table with the warmest smile that you could muster, “Mr. Deku,” you quickly approached his table and gave a slight bow.  

“H-Hey!” You seemed to startle him with your sudden appearance. He jumped a bit in his seat and awkwardly shifted as you made your way to your own chair. His face was a bit red as you maintained your eyes on his shying expression. 

“Look, before you say anything. I just want to say sorry,” his shocked eyes suddenly snapped back up to yours as you continued, “I had no idea that the event was yours and I probably ruined the rest of the night for you. If you want me off the brand deal, then I completely understand, just... don’t blame Ainu’s agency.”

His mouth fumbled over itself for a moment, causing you to quirk an unsure eyebrow before he could finally speak up, “No t-that’s not what I am here for at all, Miss L/N.”

“Call me Y/N. please,” your smirk was a little less sure than usual and you prayed that he couldn’t detect how off he had thrown you. This was going much different than you had expected it to. For one, he wasn’t trying to ‘put you in your place for disrespecting him’ or bargain  sex ‘as an apology’ like most power hungry men in his position would.

“Okay, M-miss Y/N,” the blush that adorned his cheeks confused you even further and you felt the space between your eyebrows involuntarily tighten. That was another thing… He didn’t seem like a typical man in a position of power. He was… soft... you didn’t know how else to explain it other than unusual for a man of his size and stature.

“I actually wanted to apologize to you,” he spoke up once more and you were completely lost by then. You could only blink as he continued to speak, “You really got me thinking about things the other night-- you were totally right. The brand of my sneakers did lose its true meaning. I really meant to have it be a symbol for kids growing up without a quirk to enjoy—to give them hope, but it turned into more of an endorsement to myself. The whole thing. It was wrong. That’s why I have decided to give 100% of my personal Red Sneakers profits to establishing my Quirkless Youth Initiative,”

You looked around for any hidden cameras—any hidden agenda behind his motives before looking back to him with a stiff expression. You had to physically keep your face from scrunching, “And just how are you going to make a living out of a mindset like that?” you dared to call his bluff.

“It’s just gonna have to work. It’s what my mentor would have done—given 100%. Beyond actually.”

Holy shit. This man was being serious. ‘100% and beyond’ serious, to be exact. Your face scrunched up once more, “Why do you care so much anyway?” you cut back on your tone as you noticed his eyes widen a bit at your accusatory voice, “Not to be rude, but… what’s a strong hero like you doing caring about us quirkless?”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment or two. Contemplating on whether or not he was going to lie, you noticed, “I… I…  didn’t have a quirk until much later in life. I was 14. Growing up, I always wanted to be a hero, and I just wish that I had someone back then believe in me. I want to be the one that tells kid’s—with a smile-- that they can do it. That they have at least one person who believes in them.”

His name-- Deku-- it meant worthless. The puzzle pieces were finally coming together and things began to make sense. It was a name that either himself or others used to describe him when he was growing up probably, and the man had taken it and spun it around to make it his own. Even you had to admit--

“That’s pretty damn impressive,” you couldn’t help the curl that tugged into the corners of your lips as Deku bashfully looked away from you,

“It’s nothing, really!” he tried to deflect. You gave a small laugh before smoothly bringing up the glass of wine in front of you to your lips. As soon as the liquid rushed in your mouth, your eyes flew wide open with realization,

Shit! What the fuck were you doing?

You immediately spit the alcohol back into your cup and snapped your eyes back to Deku who had, thankfully, been too caught up in his own embarrassment to be paying attention to you. You gave a sigh of relief and sat the wine glass as far away from you as inconspicuously possible. 

“So,” you leaned into the table a bit to get his eyes back on you, “Tell me about this Quirkless Youth Initiative,” you smiled. 

From that point on, you and Deku actually found talking to each other relatively easy—okay, extremely easy. In fact, you stayed past the point of dinner and ended up talking at your table hours after the bill had been paid.

You talked about everything and nothing altogether and didn’t know just when to end the conversation. You lowered your borders for some reason. Well-- you knew the reason. It was because you had been dying to talk to someone since you found out that you were the ‘p-word.’

 He ended up walking you home. Past that, for the next two weeks you guys pretty much saw each other every other day or two and talked fairly regularly. Things became habitual.

In fact.

As you stood in the beaming light of the wardrobe, getting your makeup done, you found yourself stealing little glances here and there to your phone to text with your new friend, Deku. Every buzz of your phone left you with a giddy sense of excitement.

One of the models sharing the gigantic mirror with you quickly took notice of your demeanor, “What are you smiling at, Y/N?”

“She’s texting someone,” another spoke up as your friend/babysitter, Kimi strolled up next to you,

“What?! Y/N L/N texting someone back? Have we entered the Twilight Zone??” she joked. You only responded with poking your tongue out at her before your phone buzzed again, 

Deku:

[1:00 pm]

Good Luck on your runway thing today!

You:

More like run away thing🏃‍♀️💨

Deku:

I could help? Bring comfort snacks?

You:

Most of us haven’t eaten a full meal in days BB

You would literally be stampeded by women

Wait that sounded too good🤔

You will literally be stampeded by hungry women***

Deku:

You haven’t been eating?!

Since when?!

You:

That’s not what I said. 

Just pre-show prep to keep the waists snatched and the legends skinny💁‍♀️

Deku:

Sorry I don’t know how your job really works.

I’ll come over again tonight after your show and bring dinner!

If that’s okay. Sorry didn’t mean to sound pushy.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Deku really hit it off on their date,”  Your attention was instantly snapped away from your phone screen.

You gave an ugly snort, “It wasn’t a date.” And you certainly weren’t lying. The friendly atmosphere between you and Izuku felt comfortable as best—nothing intimate about it.

You wouldn't have it any other way. It felt as though he was placed in your life to perfectly fill the holes in your boat just before you started sinking.

“Girl your phone is blowing up!” a co-worker exclaimed, loudly.

Kimi laughed as she pinched your cheeks, “Look at that smile on her face”

All of the commotion gathered the attention of Boss Lady, who was currently storming up to you with the ‘phone box’ (or phone cemetery as some of you liked to call it) in her hand. She liked to have this on her especially in big events like runways or show casings because some of the girls—you were guilty as charged—spent quite a bit of time on their phones behind the scenes, “Phone. Bin. Now.”

Usually, you would put up some type of argument or give a quick-witted remark, but this time around you only rushed to send one final text in before you threw your cellphone into the crate.

You:

[1:33pm]

I should get off at like 11 see you then broccoli boy🥦🤪

Kimi looked terrified as though she was the one who had just incurred Ainu’s wrath, “Still smiling, huh...?” 

You hadn’t even notice that you had been.

Talking to Deku really did make you happy when you needed it. Just like he spun ‘deku’ around and made it make sense, he had spun your life around and did the same. He made you feel like life was normal—whatever the hell that was. You’d never really been classified as normal anyway, but you had some impression that this resembled what it must feel like.

For a fleeting moment you think that maybe you should just sleep with Deku and pass this pregnancy off as his since you had yet to tell him-- or anyone-- about it. 

But the better half of you instantly slaps this thought out through your ears.

Hello? Welcome to psycho bitch incorporated. Seriously. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Damn, you had been separated from your phone (and Deku) for exactly 23 seconds and you were already outta your cot-damn mind. You get one friend and suddenly you don’t know how to act. 

You needed to somehow find “blond muscle man” and let him know what was up. Fuck, how were you supposed to do that when you didn’t even know his name?

The runway that night went pretty much how every single other runway went, except this time-- you opted not to attend any of the after parties. Instead, you went home and had Deku over, who delivered on his promise with sushi. 

You could smell the sushi as soon as he walked through the door and your mouth instantly watered. He really was god sent. 

The two of you settled quickly in your apartment, deciding to risk it all and eat on your living room couch to watch TV; however, you quickly noticed that the TV wasn’t the only thing that Izuku was watching. As soon as you turned to raise an eyebrow on him he feebly attempted to avert his gaze, but you caught him anyways, “What? You better stop sizing me up unless you wanna fight, Deku,” you sang as you popped another sushi roll into your mouth.

“W-what sizing you up?!”

You cackled at the sudden redness of his face, “I’m just joking. We both know I’d probably kick your ass!”

“You think so?” he actually sounded a bit nervous in his tone, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Oh, I know so,” you shrugged with a growing smirk, “Anyway. What are you staring so hard at me for?”

The air became very still around the two of you as he looked down to think. This was something that became pretty expectant of him these past few week-- a funny little habit.

“It’s just… we’ve been hanging out a lot the past few weeks and I never really noticed it—your… dieting,” he seemed to fall into that last word a bit as if it wasn’t exactly the word that he had wanted to use. 

You knew that he meant to say ‘starving yourself’ but was too reserved for that level of bluntness. That was okay with you. You weren't particularly ready to open that can of worms, “Damn, and here I was thinkin’ I was looking pretty damn good,” you joked as the both of you began cleaning up your food mess.  

“No. That’s not what I meant I—”

“Joking! I’m just joking with you, Big D,” you found yourself using this nickname for him whenever you wanted to see his face fall into it’s deepest shades of red. It worked every single time,

“I have just been at this for a long time—modeling for Ainu’s agency. Since I was 15 actually,” you shook your head a little at the surge of nostalgia that wanted to bubble up your back. You clutched a nearby pillow and hugged it to your chest, “She scouted me at a mall food court. She changed my entire life—for the better of course. She is practically my mom... I owe her a lot,” you found yourself giving into the nostalgia a bit-- a small, fond smile tugging at your lips. You looked up after a few beats of silence filled the air and was met with Deku’s admiring stare, “What? You nerd!” you exclaimed with a giggle, chucking the pillow at him. 

“It’s nothing. I just like hearing about you. I feel like I have been doing a lot of talking about me since we have been hanging out.”

Yeah, he was a Cancer zodiac for sure. You pretty much knew his entire life’s story after only the first week of knowing him, “Are you kidding me?! Your life is straight out of a comic book, BB! I love hearing about it!” You began talking to him from out of the kitchen as you put your leftovers in the fridge,

“You went up against the League of Villains, the Vanguard Action Front and The Paranormal Liberation Front as a freshman?? You powered up from a quirkless crybaby! (Hey!) to an amazing, uprising, super considerate, overpowered crybaby on his way to number one! Your U.A. friends all seem like comic book characters, too. I love them already from what you tell me,” you closed the fridge, revealing his shocked expression.

“Really?” You nodded, igniting a spark in his eyes, “Well, I am actually having a little get together at my place for my friends if you wanna stop by.”

“Yeah sure. As long as my favorite character, Kaminari, is there,” Izuku seemed shocked and slightly offended by your choice in favorite, so you clarified, “He sounded really cool and all with his ‘chatty zappy’ thing going on,” you suddenly rolled your eyes as a bad taste emerged in your mouth, “Kacchan sounds like a little bitch baby though, no offense.”

“Y/N!”

“What?! Kacchan can ‘Kach’ these ‘hans’! Oh come on. Not even a pity laugh? A little one?” You apparently thought you were a lot funnier than Izuku did. 

“I think the two of you might actually get along. You’re very similar now that I think about it,” he trailed off on his last part, seemingly talking to himself as he grabbed his chin. 

You almost felt offended by his comparison, “Fuck that. Oppisites attract, Similars repel. Besides. Why would I wanna be friends with a little bitch baby that bullies and pisses on quirkless people?”

“Well, when you meet him next week you might like him…”

You clicked your tongue, “So now I am obligated to come, huh?” you smirked.

“N-no well that’s not what I meant but I would appreciate if you—”

You were only half paying attention to his freak out as the abrupt craving for orange juice infiltrated your mind and placed itself on the forefront of your thoughts, “Deku. I am joking!” you absentmindedly reminded him as you scoured your pantries for a wine glass. You had taken to drinking out of these instead of regular cups to at least maintain a semblance of your old self. 

Izuku’s eyes widened at the sight of your collection of wines and alcohols in one of your cupboards. You smirked at him-- throwing him  look that said ‘you ain’t seen nothin yet’ as you opened your freezer to reveal the insane hoard of alcohol you had stored.

His jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight, “Holy woah, you have an entire liquor store in here!”

“Saving for a rainy day,” you almost immediately realized the error of your words as Izuku motions to one of the windows near you. The two of you sat in a beat of silence as the pitter-patter of rainfall splattered against the glass pane.

“It’s raining today,” he grinned excitedly. 

“No... I cant,” the way that the words fell out sounded about as convincing as a disguise with groucho glasses. You could really go for a drink right about now.

He looked to you a bit sadly, if not disappointed, “Y/N if this is about your diet… I am just saying, I don’t think one day will hurt too much.”

“No, I really shouldn't.” Understatement of the century. 

Izuku grabbed two glasses out of your cupboard with a soft smile gracing his features, “We’ll pour you just a little bit in case you change your mind—”

Maybe one glass wouldn't hurt... No. NO! God, you knew he meant well, but he is really fucking making this hard for you!! “I cant, I’m pregnant!!” you suddenly yelled. He immediately froze, 

“Wha...?”

“I’m pregnant...”

“Oh... Uhhh congratulations,” the most unconvincing thing to have ever come out of his mouth probably, “Who…”

“I don’t know,” the look of utter horror on his face had you instantly backtracking your answer, “Well—let me rephrase that. I do know who it is, but I don’t know his name. It was a umm.. ‘Wam. Bam. Thank you ma’am’ type deal.” Your face began burning as hot blood rushed into your cheeks. You literally couldn't have phrased that worse if you tried. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“You don’t look pregnant...” the horror on his face now registered into your mind as pure shock. 

“I sure as hell would hope not. I am like a month-ish along—I think.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor?”

“Uhh no...” He was right, you didn't even look pregnant. There was no way in hell that you needed to go to the doctor yet. Right?

“W-wait! Y/N the night we met! You were drinking alcohol!”

“So? I am probably only like a few weeks pregnant and I drank like two glasses. I am sure it didn’t do anything…?”

“Are you really sure? How can you know!? You have to go see a doctor!” he looked terrified. It was as if he suddenly was the embodiment every stressed emotion that you had been shoving away from you these past few weeks and the sight scared you. 

“You’re freaking me out, Deku.”

He instantly froze, “S-sorry,” he looked down to his shoes. Maybe you just might let him pour those drinks after all. He looked like he could use both of them right about now...

The next week dragged on for what felt like eons, as Izuku seemed to cautiously dance around the topic of your “preexisting condition.” It was quite obvious that every time the topic came up, a cloud of discomfort would come and sit on his shoulders; however, the man still made it a point to urge the fact that you needed to set up a doctor’s appointment.

Eventually, you caved in and scheduled for one at a local clinic, but they couldn't get you in for a few weeks anyway-- the joint was at maximum capacity, you guessed?  Apparently, there were more pregnant bitches waddling around than you thought.

Still, Deku urged you to read up and research some things prior to your appointment so that you could ask the doctor any questions that might pop up. It seemed like he was almost way too into this-- taking notes in a composition notepad that he dubbed “Baby Notes Vol 1″ and even mentioning coming along with you to your clinic visit.

It made things extremely real. 

Your little safe space with Deku had effectively been conquered and subjugated by the little parasite that took residence in your body. You shook your shoulders with a sigh as you neared Deku’s door for the party. 

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK* 

When the door opened you couldn't help the way that your eyebrows flew up in surprise at the sight of a woman opening the door. Uhh... did you go to the wrong house?

The brown haired girl in front of you looked just as surprised as you-- if not even more so. 

Okay, you definitely went to the wrong house.

The sudden sound of Izuku’s voice coming deep from withing the apartment led you to breath easy. You deflated a little bit as you relaxed. You wouldn't have to make a mad dash in a lagged game of ‘ding dong ditch’ after all,  “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.”

A series of emotions flashed across her expression at your greeting: shocked, nervous, then... disappointed? “Y/N! I’ve heard... so so much about you!” the smile that stretched across her lips seemed almost painful, “I’m Ochako Uraraka! I... love your hair!” she threw out the last part like a rabbit would throw steak to wolves. 

“Thank’s...” you felt fucking awkward and she still hasn’t let you into the apartment, “I’ll make sure to thank the stylist and the bottle of dye she used.”

“That’s not your real hair color? It looks so healthy though!” she seemed heartbroken as she used a pitying tone and you could gauge that the pity was not for yourself. 

“Nah. My agency pretty much determines what hairstyles I wear...”  You made eye contact with Deku inside of the house as he made his way to the door... Thank god! you were saved from that terribly awkward interaction.

“Agency? Hero agency?”

“Modeling, actually. I’m not that badass,” you smirked before walking into the party.

Her figure deflated as if to say, ‘of fucking course’, “Oh. That’s cool!” You didn’t see much of Uraraka after that 

Meanwhile, Bakugou was just a tick away from being angry enough to kill. His roommates had all three convinced him to go to this get together over Deku’s house and they weren't even going to be there on time! 

He had honestly never been to a party with these losers without at least Shitty Hair being with him, so he wasn’t exactly sure how it would pan out and that really bothered him. He wasn’t exactly social at these events, but at least the three stooges kept him somewhat entertained (he would never admit this aloud).

What could those other losers possible do to entertain him?

“Whyyyyyyy?” he heard crying as he neared Deku’s home. His face scrunched in on itself even further than usual as he approached the whining noise. He scoffed at the inebriated mess in front of him,

“What the hell are you doing, round face?”

Uraraka, who was leaning against the edge of Izuku’s front patio looked up, causing Bakugou to deeply grimace at the germy snot that trailed down her red face, “Deku’s new girlfriend sure is cool. He deserves someone like her, right? She’s perfect!” Bakugou couldn't help the way that his face shriveled into itself in disgust. 

It wasn't too late. He could still turn around and go the fuck home and no one would even know he was here. Well, save for bubble cheeks here, but she probably wouldn't even remember to be honest. 

But as soon as Bakugou turned back around to make his escape Uraraka spoke up again, “She’s a model. They met at the Red Sneakers Event apparently,” Of course this piqued the man’s interest. There were only a few models branding the event and he just so happened to be searching for one of them. Uraraka continued with her drooling of words as Bakugou brushed past her and made his way into the house-- not bothering to knock,

“You know I am the one who gave him that idea in the first place? It’s kinda like. I set him up with his future wife!” she drunkenly cried to no one in particular as Bakugou stormed away.

He passed Iida on his way in, “Go get round face and shut her drunk ass up-- she’s outside,” he didn't bother on stopping to further explain before walking back to the commotion of the party.

 As soon as he entered the packed room, his eyes landed on you. It was like the Red Sneakers Event all over again. You were simply glowing-- hard to miss-- especially with the crowd of his old classmates hovering around you like some damn flies on shit-- especially Deku. He was way too close to you-- the rat bastard. 

“Oooh! You’ve been to Milan! That’s so cool, girl! So you must get to sight-see like a lot!”

The way that your shoulders leaned and swayed as you talked sent flutters into Bakugou’s heart. Fucking gross. He watched you speak very intently-- searching for the magic you had used to bewitch him, “Actually I was working a lot when I was there, so I really only got to see the sets and runways,” you made fleeting eye contact with him from across the room, furrowing your eye brows a bit at his stare before breaking the gaze. 

“Do you get to keep the outfits after the shoots?!”

“Pfft. Hell no! This loser still hasn’t sent me a pair of his red shoes. What happened to helping the quirkless, huh, broccoli boi?” The most primal urge of jealousy that Bakugou had ever felt sprinted through his body as you leaned over to playfully tap that shitty Deku in the arm. The feeling was so intense that he hadn’t even registered what you had said fully. 

“You’re quirkless?” Racoon Eyes inquired, snapping Bakugou out of his feral trance. His face fell a bit as he dutifully awaited your answer. 

“Yeah. It’s whatever,” you shrugged.

“The competition must be so difficult!” Momo spoke up as she placed and apologetic hand to her chest. The gesture made you tense up a bit, but you reminded yourself that she probably didn't mean it in a belittling way as she continued,  “I’ve been to a few magazine shoots myself and it is always girls with flashy quirks who end up in front and center!”

“Well, I compete well, I guess,” you knew that hero hero modeling and your fashion modelling were two completely different worlds. Designers saw you guys mostly as clothing racks and mannequins for their clothes, so usually they wanted their models to be as mundane as possible-- not to distract from their fabric art. So basically the perfect job for someone like you, “it’s no big deal. I get by like everybody else.”

“You just live your life like normal!”

“Awhhhh. Y/N. You’re an inspiration!”

Suddenly you felt extremely tired. You couldn't find the energy within  yourself to filter out and soften your next response, “Glad I could inspire you just by breathing I guess.” you gave the girls a slight smile as you shrugged, but the undertone of your comment had not gone unnoticed-- especially by Bakugou who found himself stifling a proud smirk.

You once again made eye contact with him in this moment-- this time not daring to backtrack your gaze until he did-- a warning sign to back he hell off with that staring shit.

As the night progressed you found yourself becoming more and more tired. The debilitating sense of sudden fatigue actually felt like it had taken over even your bones at this point as the aching structures weighed heavily inside of you skin. You decided after about an hour that you were gonna make an early trip back home.

“What, why!?” Deku scanned your face nervously-- he thought you had been having fun!

“Just really damn tired suddenly.”

“Oh...” he trailed off, but suddenly realized the hidden context of your words. Baby Notes vol 1 page 4 section 3: ‘prenatal fatigue’, “Ohhhhh okay! Right! Well Let me call you a taxi or something.”

“Nahh, I’ll walk,” you waved him off as you made your journey toward small crowds of his friends-- waving them goodbye. Deku followed you in your path around his house, 

“W-what? You can’t be serious! You shouldn’t do that!”

You turned around and threw your hand on his shoulder, causing him to instantly freeze up, “I’ll be fine,” you smirked throwing your hand up to his cheek to gently pat his face. Of course, he was left a shivering, blushing mess. It was a low blow, but, hey, it gave you a good opportunity to escape. 

You felt a wave of relief as soon as you made it a few steps outside of the apartment. You released a heavy sigh as you continued walking away. 

Finally. You internally planned the rest of the night in your head: orange juice, Netflix and sleeeep. You could finally just let yourself relax and--

“HEY!” you jumped out of your skin a little at the sudden loud shout. You whipped around to see that blond spikey-haired dude from Deku’s house attempting to close in on you. 

You rolled your eyes as he neared. Hardly throwing him a glance as he approached you to walk a little behind you, “God. You’re the weirdo that was staring at me all night,” you groaned, hoping he would catch your drift. 

“We need to talk!” 

One of you eyebrows instantly quirked up as your lips curled into a look of disgust. You whipped back around towards him, “Look, I am actually tired as hell, so excuse me for my bluntness, but FUCK OFF!” You only caught a glimpse of his flabbergasted expression before you spun back around to storm down the stairs entering the subway. 

“You really don’t know me?” he sounded pissed. 

That’s when it hit you. 

“Oh! it’s you!” you snapped your fingers at the sudden realization, 

“You’re Kacchan!” the look of disgust that hardened on his face intensified by ten fold when he heard you use that nickname. You continued regardless as you neared the train platform, “The asshole bully who likes to pick on quirkless kids. Yeah, well, I don’t give a damn how great you think you are, buddy. You can really fuck off now!” you spun once more to ditch him; however this time around your ankle twisted from underneath you, causing your body to fall down toward the ledge of the platform where underneath the tracks resided.

Bakugou cried out something like ‘you idiot!’ before grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into him before you could completely fall down the ledge. Everything happened so quickly that you hadn't even realized that you were holding your breath until you gasped heavily into his chest.

With a shocked expression you trailed up his neck to his face until you were met with his vermilion eyes, “Shit…” suddenly a wave of familiarity crashed into you. you breathed deeply, “I-It’s you...”

[neighsleigher]

Blue Man Group Arrives In Nevada, Except It’s Just One Troll

> Equius Zahhak throws away the wax wrapping of his carbonated thin crisps and begrudgingly settles into the leather padding of the passenger seat. A conscious action for a foreigner. 

> He could see his escort from the parking lot paying for their topped-off tank of gas and refreshments with unmarked bills. The cashier, human, was, of course, polite to his patron, and given by their shared expression the two had struck a conversation. Much to Equius’ chagrin.

> They've long since escaped the confinements of civilization,  the last leg of their journey upon them. From this point on it’d be Equius, his escort, the asphalt of the open road and desert sand wisping past and grating sensitive skin.

Equius rests his arm on the window sill. Though grateful for the lack of roof to their vehicle, he can't help but feel like an uncomfortably large sardine in a comically small can.

Those two wrap it up and finally, finally, the door of the store swings open and the escort emerged.  Equius exhaled deeply through his nose and said nothing when the human popped open the driver's door.

“How's your stomach holding up?” he said, before dropping a bag into Equius’s lap. Oh, seltzer water. “Not sure if it'll do it you any good, but it's better than nothing.” The escort starts the ignition while Equius knocks back a quarter of his seltzer as they pulled out of the empty lot and got back on the road.

Already the feeling of nausea is starting to subside. “Thank you.”

“Ain’t a thang-chicken wang,” It’s when Equius raises a brow that the human clears his throat to keep talking. “Out on business huh? Must be some pretty exciting stuff, yeah?”

“I guess,” is all Equius could say.

“And you just returned from- like- space, right?”

“Correct.”

“That’s kinda dope- I mean, that’s cool. Being up in space for that long, I mean. What do you guys even do up there for that long?”

“You’ve gotten awfully chatty considering this is the final stretch of our drive together,” Equius says pointedly, which his escort responds with a shrug of his shoulders. “Clearly we work,” he says while another carbonated thin crisp square is pressed to the trolls lips. “And then we work some more, doing our part to service the Empire.”

His escort, clearly dissatisfied with his answer or lack-thereof, tries to push the subject even further. “Trolls have powers, right? Like mind control, or lifting things with your thoughts. You remind me of the X-Men! Except, you know, they don’t do what you guys do,” he laughs awkwardly. “You’re a blue, right? Can you read my mind, or do you have some other power?”

Crushing heads like a particularly ripe cantaloupe didn’t feel like much of a valued answer. “No.”

“So you guys are just born like that? Sorry, I mean hatched.” This humans attempts at getting friendly were falling flat. Equius isn’t sure if he should scold him for talking to his superiors at all or commend him for the stone sized globes he’s smuggling behind the confinements of his Sunday slacks. Nonetheless, he keeps talking. “Oh- you said you didn’t have any powers? Does that mean you just came out the egg Jack Diesel? A freak with a cause and crazy muscles?” He persisted.

This conversation has taken a hard left and Equius isn’t a fan of the detour.

This man can talk, he is like the Muhammad Ali of talking. If the conversation was an Olympic sport this man would have done a somersault onto the podium and clean house. Bronze, silver, gold- all his, tucked into his grubby little hands and taking everyone for a three-hour drive no one wanted in the first place. The tank is full, his gums are loose and everyone is terrified.

“Yes,” Equius interrupts before this man could even think of moving his lips again. “I was, in fact, hatched with unbelievable strength and gifted physical abilities that your species could only dream to achieve.” The escort opens his mouth to say something else, perhaps to comment on the visible sweat dripping down the troll’s brow. But he would never know for sure as it instead shuts tight.

“Though that is to be expected,” Equius continued. “We are superior, which explains why your planet was so easy to colonize into our mighty Empire. To call it a fight would be to give you more credit than you’ve earned- it was a scuffle if anything.”

“If you want to put it that way, sure, but you’ve got to admit that it was an unfair fight-”

“There is no such thing as ‘unfair’ in a fight,”

“Are you upset because- ”

Equius paused. His face had gone a faint yet noticeable shade of blue.

“Stop the vehicle.”

The escort furrows his brows and gives his passenger a look over. “You okay big guy?”

“I said stop the car.”

Nausea had returned and with a vengeance. The car swerved off the main road and into a clear patch of dirt and rocks, Equius stumbled out with the grace of a newborn deer and into a ditch.

The rest of the drive was smothered with an uncomfortable silence, both escort and escorted now reverting back into their proper roles. The two exchange glances, one apologetic, the other leaning to a close second.

And they leave it at that.

In two hours time, they finally encounter signs of life outside of the average lizard and hungry buzzard, driving past Imperial Military vehicles and the trolls who stood there like sour-faced statues. The Escort stops next to a toll booth and the troll manning it. “Evening boys, you two look like shit. Long drive?”

Neither driver or passenger could take offense to the observations made by the Imperial Soldier manning the toll road of the fenced off area, as they reigned true. Driving for almost several hours- including periodical breaks at Equius’ expense- has that kind of impression on people.

Their destination was finally revealed to be a small district in the middle of the Mojave Desert, Nevada. He hadn’t been given all the details, just to show up at the given coordinates as soon as they were grounded and their personal affairs were situated. No questions were asked; not because they weren’t necessary, but because it would have been unprofessional.

Equius runs the proper procedures. He flashes his I.D, credentials, and the necessary paperwork to prove his placement before taking a beetle to the pad of his index finger. It’s needle pointed mandibles piercing flesh and drawing a healthy sample of blood into its now swollen thorax. It glows a faint, royal blue.

He drops the beetle now full of his blood sample into a metal dish sitting neatly on the desk inside the booth.

The Imperial Soldier doesn’t look up from his flashy military-grade tablet, tapping letters and numbers into the illuminated screen before speaking in the escort’s direction. “You can turn back now.”

The human's jaw tightens a bit and excuses himself quietly, but not before offering Equius a farewell; “Sorry about the tight fit big guy, and uh, everything else.” Most likely concerned that he’d get a mark to his records. And ‘annoyed their assignment vomiting on the side of the road’ sounds like a quick way to lose healthcare privilege.

His silence is enough to make the escort shrink back into his seat, but it’s Equius’s careful bob of his head that eases him just enough to leave the booth comfortably.

“You can enter, just head towards the collapsible containment shelter- the big white tent a few feet away from the crash site,” The Soldier pointed past the gates and through the crowd, where a white stood proudly above the chaos. “Your overseer should already be inside.”

Equius muttered his thanks and entered the gate that sealed- whatever this was- off from the rest of the world with a chain linked fence and a lot of lethal weaponry.

Imperial Soldiers, Medicullers, and members of the Research Division scattered the sector like ants. Everyone was kept busy, to slow down and to do anything else outside of their job would merit a scolding or a demotion to their ranks. Out of the corner of his eye, Equius could see, judging by the colors of the patches sewn into their shoulders, three olives and a cerulean examining the contents of a body bag.

In the middle of the fray was a crater the size of a small cargo ship, deep enough to drain a lake three times over.

The earth around the edge of the crater that dropped into the pit was scorched and ashen, nothing would be able to grow here again. Equius peered over the ridge to get a closer look, to see if he could catch a glimpse of what could have caused an impact that severe to create such a sizeable hole. But it was empty, save for the trolls collecting dirt samples.

“Zahhak.” A voice, stern and smooth, called out above the crowd.

His attention snaps to look ahead, to now approach the white tent that the Imperial Soldier informed him of with a clawed finger. The voice originating from behind its partially raised entry.

A particularly photogenic tealblood, a familiar face, waited patiently by the tent’s entrance. The overseer’s right hand adjusts her thinly framed glasses that only brought attention to her small, button nose, her long hair now done up in a tight bun instead of flowing freely at her shoulders.

“You’re late,” she scolds and Equius tries not to wince. It had only been by five minutes, but that wasn’t an excuse to waste her time.

“My apologies, but if I may ask-”

“You may.”

Equius bit his bottom lip carefully before speaking again, his voice soft. “Why did you assign to me a human escort?”

Serana stares at Equius blankly, her gaze forcing him to shift nervously where he stands. Their relationship was strictly professional, but even then it wasn’t as if Serana hadn’t made attempts to understand her co-workers on some level.

“Come with me.” She was hard to read at times, even with

Ignoring the dampness on his forehead, she leads him inside.

Despite first appearances, the inside of the tent was fairly spacious, with enough walking room for exactly five adult trolls of intimidating size. On opposite ends of the tent the walls were occupied by bulky consoles, display screens, and workbenches all of organic roots. Healthy, pulsating wires coiled the floor and snaked their way around the legs of every troll and table here, every wire connected to one massive framework in the corner of the tent. Conveying electric currents into the lush purple mainframe.

Serana caught up her skirt and maneuvered her way around the maze of circuitry. She leads her lesser to the far back of the tent, where the wires became more crowded and convoluted. Making it a chore and a half for Equius to dance around so as to not crush anything.

Serana approached the back of the tent, her clipboard secure in her arms. “Sir,” she rose her voice to be heard among the whirring of machines.

The Overseer, Galleo Mercur, was (visually) as one would expect of a sea dweller; clean, neatly trimmed and exhibiting excellence with every graceful poise. His nose was pointed and his jawline regal, like a model, and though he’s already earned sweeps under his belt the man didn’t look a cycle over twelve. He stood in front of a glass display case that Equius couldn’t peer into despite being taller than the man.

The Overseer turned to face Equius with a wide grin etched into his lips. “Zahhak, baby, you mate it!” The man was always so loud, and even when he should have been used to it; Equius jumped each time. “Why so late, I thought you had a grasp on Earth time?”

“His driver was human, sir,” Serana interrupted.

The man rests a hand on his hip, cocking it to the side. “What? Zahhak, buddy, I am so sorry- Serana, how on Alternia did this happen!? You know I don’t trust monkeys behind the wheel.” He makes sure that everyone and their lusus within earshot knows his stance on the miserable road trip that Equius had embarked.

His dutiful assistant let her fingers drum against the back of her clipboard. “I did not arrange for this, sir.” Oh, that actually made sense.

Galleo tilted his head. “Then who did?” That made a lot more sense.

“You did, sir.”

Galleo paused for a moment, lips and brows scrunched tight to scan his mind for whether the accusation proved true or not. “Oh well, mistakes happen. Doesn’t matter,” he dismisses it just as soon as he considers it. Galleo brings up his right hand and waves it lazily; taking this as her cue, Serana carefully takes up space next to her Overseer and the glass cube he stood in front of.

“Zahhak,” Galleo said simply, running a chill down Equius’s spine. Or maybe it was the night breeze cooling the metal.

“Sir?” He responds proper.

Galleo, obviously pleased with the attentive care his employee put into his answers. “How would you feel about taking up a special little assignment during our time here on Earth?”

An assignment straight from the Overseer? “I would feel honored, sir.”

Galleo tossed his head back and laughed, loud and boisterous, like a talk show host from SNL, a program that Equius shamefully admits to tuning in on from time to time to fill the silence in his quarters. “See,” he spun on his heels, and Equius could see the gleam in his eyes behind the yellow tint of his glasses. “That’s why I like you, you’re always so quick to do what I want you to do and you barely waste my time with useless questions,” he crowed.

“Of course,” Equius affirmed. “If you are to just tell me what it is that I am to do, sir, then I will do it to the best of my abilities.” Serving his higherups came first, after all. Even if Equius did take a quick detour to visit Dirk. The Overseer let out another hearty laugh, with Serana fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“A few nights ago, Earth time mind you, one of our patrol stations were given a heads up about some illegal crash landing activities here in this desert. I’m sure you saw the big hole outside.” It was hard to miss it. “To cut a long story short, patrol was called, they came to check it out, then patrol called us once they realized that this was way out of both their jurisdiction and pay grade.” Galleo stepped to the side; giving Equius a clear view of the mystery behind the glass casing, and the mystery a clear view of Equius.

At first he sees himself in a red tint, the glass surface of the foreign object reflected everything within a ten-foot radius. It was sphere shaped, smooth, and reminded Equius of a glass marble. It couldn’t be no more than thirty- no, thirty-five inches in circumference and looked heavy for any human or rustblood to carry on their own. The sphere glowed an intense color of red, specks of orange and yellow danced and mixed together with the red backdrop like small explosions in a sea of maroon.

“If you think that’s obnoxiously intoxicating, check this out.” Galleo, all too excitedly, reached for the latch that separated the orb from the rest of the world and yanked it free in one swift motion. Serana took a step away from the glass containment and Equius made sure to follow her example.

The lights began to flicker and the mainframe hissed in what can only be properly described as agony, the wires coiling in on themselves while the biomechanic consoles shook in their placements.

A gutteral rumble predated the crack-flash of energy that was pulled from their electronics. The once striking red color of the orb then shifted into something angry, telling. The explosions of orange and yellow bloomed inside of themselves, spreading out to all corners of the orb like thin veins. Trolls, now dangerously aware of what had been released onto them, relinquished their stations and hurriedly exited the tent save for three. Equius shielded his vision with his forearm, a crack of electricity licked the flesh of his arm and he cried out in pain and anger.

The vibrations beneath their feet had been growing, now even more intense than it was seconds ago. All the electricity that was being pulled from their equipment were now being drawn into the face of the orb.

Serana, now the troll of reason, saw an opening and jumped on it the second it was wide enough for her to squeeze through. Dodging wild and uncoordinated ropes of energy to slam the glass lid shut, and let go of a relieved breathe she had been holding on to. The orb hissed and sparked little snaps of energy, but other than that it lied as dormant as it was before.

When the excitement finally died down, Galleo noticed a smudge of navy blue on the toe of his shoe. He grimaced openly, muttering to himself about how these were ‘imported’ and ‘suede’. Letting Equius pick himself up from the ground while he fished for something on a nearby bench.

Equius held his wound in his free hand, while Galleo offered to him a file tablet. “I want you to take home a sample of this thing and run some tests while I tend to business. Paperwork and such, nothing interesting.” Carefully Equius took the so far only non-damaged piece of equipment in the room. “Give it a look over, fill out a report, and you have until we’re due for another departure mission.

Equius nodded and gingerly accepted the digital file from his Overseers hands. The wound would just have to wait, he’d have to secure some samples before anything else.