#currently beating a migraine back with a stick

[reitziluz]

the hard part about this round of apartment hunting and moving places isn't the actual apartment hunting and moving places.

it's how none of my conditions like any of what's going on whatsoever.

(wish me luck)

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 26

When all else fails go with the old standby:

So The Immortal is getting real tired of all of Monkey's tricks, and tells him he will never be able to escape from him until he restores the tree. When Monkey hears this though he's just like 'You just want the tree restored? Well why didn't you just say so! It could have totally saved all of us the hassle. pfft I can totally fix that tree.' Says Wukong despite currently having no idea how to fix that tree. Despite this however The Immortal believes he will be able to do it, so Sun Wukong is able to negotiate his masters release. And the Immortal even says he'll take a bond of brotherhood with Wukong if he succeeds.

So the pilgrims are all untied, and while Sandy and Tripitaka wonder how he's going to pull this off, Pigsy is just convinced he's going to leave them all to die. So they all go and ask Monkey about his plans on how to revive the tree and he tells them he plans to go on a grand tour of the eastern ocean to meet all the immortals there to see if any of them know a cure. Tripitaka asks how long that will take, and Monkey estimates three days. So Tripitaka says that's all fine and dandy as long as he returns in three days, but if he doesn't then he will start reciting the Tight Fillet Sutra.

So Sun Wukong takes his leave, but not before threatening the Great Immortal to take care of Tripitaka while he's gone, because if he doesn't, he'll be back to poke more holes in his pans and stick around to harass them. His first stop is Penglai to meet up with the three stars of Longevity, Blessing and Wealth respectively, who are currently playing a game of chess. When they see Sun Wukong however they stop their game to greet him and ask him what he's doing here. Word on the street is that he's supposed to be accompanying the Tang Monk after all.

So Monkey tells them ran into a little trouble the Abby of Five Villages, which the stars are very concerned to hear about since that is the Zhenyuan Great Immortal's domain, who is an immortal that outranks them. And are even more horrified to learn that Monkey ate the ginseng fruit. And are even *more* horrified to learn that he then uprooted the tree. Anyways, Monkey then tells them that he heard a saying that 'the cure comes from the seas' so he's here to ask if they have a way to revive the tree. After the stars are done freaking out about the mess he's gotten himself into, they explain that while they could revive some normal creature, healing such a tree is beyond their abilities.

Monkey is displeased to hear this, not because he doesn't think it's possible, just that it might take a bit longer then the three days he promised Tripitaka, and he really doesn't want to have to deal with a migraine while trying to sort this out. The Star of Longevity suggests that the three of them pay the Zhenyaun immortal a little visit and explain the situation to Tripitaka to buy Monkey more time.

So the three stars go to the Abby, and Pigsy in particular is excited to see the Star of Longevity again. So the immortals explain why they are there and Tripitaka agrees not to recite the tight fillet spell. And with that taken care of, Pigsy proceeds to mess around with the stars and we cut back to Monkey.

So Monkey has just arrived at Fangzhang Mountain and he is there to meet with The Grand Thearch. Monkey once again recites his business, only to be once again told that there is no cure here. It's the same story at his next destination the island of Yingzhou where he talks to the Nine Elders, they once again tell him they have no cure, but they at least offer some refreshments for him, which was nice of them.

After that Monkey finally finds himself once again at Guanyin's place. While there Monkey runs into a familiar face, it's the Black Bear monster he beat up back when during the cossack incident! And he's actually been doing really well for himself as a guardian for Guanyin. Good to know there are no hard feelings. So the bear takes him to Guanyin, and she asks how the journey has been going, despite already knowing exactly how it's going. She still makes sure to scold him when he tells her about his mishaps at Abbey of Five villages. And considering the immortal he offended is the patriarch of all earthbound immortals who outranks even her, that's fair.

Luckily for Monkey however, Guanyin does indeed have the cure, and she (and me) wonders why he didn't just go to her first... Anyways turns out that the sweet dew in her vase can heal divine tree's. And she's even tested this out before when she made a bet with Laozi. He took her willow trig and used his brazier to completely dry it out and char it and then gave it back to her. She placed it in her vase, and after one day and night it was good as new. So cure in hand, Guanyin leaves with Monkey to go back to The Immortal.

Meanwhile, the Great Immortal is chatting up the three stars until Sun Wukong drops down in order to announce the Bodhisattva's presence, and everyone rushes out to great her. When all the pleasantries are out of the way, Monkey says the Great Immortal should give thanks to Guanyin because she's going to heal his tree. The Immortal asks why she should concern herself with Monkey's affairs, but Guanyin just explains that the Tang Monk is her disciple, so he and all of *his* disciples are her problem.

With that said they all head to the tree, which is lying on the ground roots exposed. Guanyin then has Monkey giver her his hand and she uses her dew to draw a reviving charm on his palm. She then has him place his hand at the root of the tree and watch for water spurting out. Once it does she instructs him to push the tree back upright and use a jade ladle to pour water from the top down. When the tree is revived it blossoms with 33 ginseng fruits, which is even more then they had before.

Pleased with the addition the Great Immortal uses the golden mallet to knock down ten of the fruits and they have a little banquet. Guanyin, the three stars, The Great Immortal, Monkey, Pigsy and Sandy all have a fruit, and seeing it's safe even Tripitaka has one this time. And the last fruit was divided amongst the other residents of the Abby. After that Guanyin and the Three stars head home, and the Great Immortal keeps his promise and becomes bond brothers with Sun Wukong.

As everyone settles in for a sleepover, we end this chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 + 94,000 years. Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind, enhanced smell, discerning good and evil within a thousand miles, Spirit Summoning, lock picking, and object transformation. Demon Kill Count: 4+ Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 6 God's Defeated: 19 + Unknown number Defeats: 3 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering, trespassing and violating Tree Law. Cry Count: 3 Mountains Trapped Under: 1

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization and Heart Sutra. Cry Count: 15 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 5 Paralyzed by fear: 4 Bandit Problems: 2 Kidnapped by demons: 2 Falling Off Horses: 5

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, and flight. Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 1

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations, parting water, fighting underwater and cloud soaring. Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 3 Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping and arson.

Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), Sandy and Sha Monk Weapon: Monster Taming Staff Abilities: Fighting underwater Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, and desecration of a human corpse.

[60scig]

7/31/24

Chipping the wine red color from my fingernails, I sprinkle the polish onto the seats of his truck. I sigh, kicking off my boots–the summer heat seeping into the car was making my legs sweat against the leather. When my right thumb is chipped clean, I shuffle in my seat to peek my head out the open window.

“Are we stranded?” I ask, crossing my arms over the window sill, resting my chin on top of my hands. My little cowboy friend slams the truck hood shut, lifting his hat from his head to wipe the sweat from his forehead; wavy strands of dark hair sticking to his skin. I grin.

“Nothin’ to worry about.” He tells me in an almost inaudible mumble, walking around to return to the driver’s seat. Upon entering, he immediately notices the red sprinkles dusting the terracotta colored seats. Pulling away from the window, grin still plastered on my lips, I splay out my fingers for him to see my messy nails, only my thumb completely clean. He shakes his head, then begins to explain what was wrong with the truck.

I don’t understand a single word. Nodding my head along, I lean forward to reach into the glove compartment, pulling out our crumpled and worn map, unfolding it in front of my face. At some point, he stopped talking and started the truck. It rumbled violently for a brief second, but calmed down to a point where he pulled us back on the road.

“Where we going?” I ask. When he tells me, I place my finger against the location on the map, trailing it down until I meet our current location.

I keep my window down, letting the hot air blow through my hair, tussling the strands and ruining my neat braid. He’s too silent, so I rummage for a tape, making snide comments about his music taste until I stumble across The Doors.

“You look like Jim Morrison.” I observe, pushing the tape into the cassette player.

“Do I?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

I nod. “More handsome, I think.”

A beat of silence. Do I look like Pamela? I don’t ask. I simply admire the toothy chuckle he replies with, watching his fingers readjust on the steering wheel before turning up the music’s volume as loud as I could without it becoming migraine inducing. I let Morrisson’s poetic lyrics drill into my head, pulling down the visor to examine myself in the mirror. Fiery ginger hair now ratted by the wind, milky white skin dusted in freckles–I think I looked like Pamela Courson. Maybe he and I were reincarnated cosmic lovers.

After running my fingers over the texture of my skin, picking at any impurities I felt, I turned back to him. He mouths along to the lyrics of Blue Sunday; maybe he was singing, but I couldn’t hear it over the music’s volume. If it weren’t so loud, you would think that it was his true voice.

I imagine him as my famous rockstar boyfriend for the rest of the ride. Instruments in the trunk, a large van with the rest of the band trailing behind us as we make way to the location of their next show. Maybe one day we too would flee to Paris; I was beginning to grow tired of driving around the Southwest, anyways. So was the truck as it rumbled once more while it rolled into the gas station parking lot, feeling as if it were going to collapse underneath us.

As I stroll through the gas station, basking in the air conditioning, I side eye out the large windows to watch him speaking to an old man with a long greying beard and shiny bald head as they examine the truck once again. The owner, I suppose. While I flip through magazines, trying to decide which one to shove into my bag, I imagine what he’s telling the old man; maybe we’re lovers on our way to Las Vegas, looking to get hitched. Maybe I’m a hitchhiker being escorted to San Francisco. Or, my true hope: he’s the frontman of a band on his way to Los Angeles. There were many excuses to choose from, I thought as I rolled up the latest edition of Vogue and buried it in my bag, but maybe the old man wouldn’t be phased by the truth.

In an area like this, deserted and surrounded by miles of dead shrubbery and exhausting heat, I believed it to be possible that he had come across two suspected killers before.

[dxefillz]

LET THE RAIN COME DOWN ↳ accor stadium, sydney austrailia; july 6th 

self para; dae spreading herself too thin, and only realizing it in their final set of the tour so when it counts. (tw: blood, usage of pain killers like ibuprofen)  

each swell of exhaustion felt like her body had been sitting in a constant sway of water on a shore. each throb dissipating and swelling like unpredictable and dangerous waves. she’s been stuck in that heavy current for months- and usually, turbulent weather was comforting for dae, healing even. living in the chaotic spiral of a hurricane's eye though? was eating away at her stamina. 

-and it fucking sucked. 

dae thought so while two inked fingers faintly tapped out a rhythm on her lap. it served as a fidget but also, a search for reassurance that tonight's set would go as planned. the only differences between a regular show day, and the pressure for tonight- her migraine was still as dominant even after pain meds. this wasn’t too unusual for her, especially this concert leg; but it was also concerning that her body felt as heavy as her mind… and Ibuprofen doesn’t remedy everything. even in her makeup chair, with her eyes closed and a pair of hands running through her hair she couldn’t feel relaxed. maybe if her head wasn’t beginning to spin then, the cold sensation of hair gel would’ve been soothing. all her mind could latch onto was the beat she’d been tapping to, running through the show in preparation. 

“dae, i’m finished-...”cut through to her, and suddenly was back in the dressing room- staring at her reflection with a concentrated pain behind her eyes. 

“sick-”

insincerity left her mouth, but only because finishing meant showtime was vastly approaching; and still there was fatigue. still, there was an ache. the show goes on though right? 

dae probably can’t remember the moments leading up to crouching next to the backstage sound cart. she’d hadn’t left a yellow sticky there since around the time she’d started dating malachi seriously. he’d secretly been her antidote since then; a saving grace for her random thoughts and minor worries. this though was tough to admit to, to him… to ren, danbi…. dahye. they’d tell her to rest, and would scold her for trying to be the hero. they’d assume she’d wanna go on for their sake, and then she’d have to admit that doing this for her own selfish needs- and dae would rather live with the headache. 

dae walked away from the post it, thinking exactly what she’d etched into the note.  ‘I’m fucking exhausted from trying to be stronger than I feel.’

without being able to truly process the moment, dae’s gaze darted from mouth to mouth. one being the stage manager telling them it’s places, more being ren then danbi as they check one another’s mic packs. dae could’ve sworn dahye had said something to her but the drummer just nodded, a forced smile pretending to hear before she’d touched her ear piece and walked out on stage. 

blinding lights swallowed her expression immediately. dae found a way to push a smize to the surface though, twisting her sticks in the between her rough but nibble fingers. ‘the show must go on.’ the crowd arose in a roar directly triggering a faint bell to chime through them. it was quick, but didn’t worry her any less. the real fun started once she’d hit her first tom. 

a sore soaked fatigue trembled up from her grip to her shoulders, and settled in her back. dae expected it and still the impact drained her. the drummer kept in time, kept in rhythm just trusting that each arm would left after the other. the crashes hurt the most, but she still lifted her arms and striked them down like thunder how she’d practiced. In and out, she could hear everyone’s voices streaming through to her cochlear, but half way through the song she’d realized that the sound started to become so overwhelming for her that she was losing a bit of her awareness and presence. 

typically, this is where her body shifted into a comfortable ease of auto pilot. she could let loose, and enjoy her drum thrown beaming with their sound streaming through to her cochlear. but, her mind had became too aware. dae could feel the wood of her sticks shifting in her calloused palms, along with the specific vibrations of danbi’s and ren’s guitars. dahye’s voice added to the swell, and suddenly dae’s head was turning each musical progression into a pain wave. It pulsed through her as she tried to keep up, however each strike sent an ongoing ring to her ears and dae was sure she couldn’t hear a thing. 

there was internal panic then, it seemed controlled and professional for only a few moments. For the rest of that song she’d followed the beat of the bass vibration under her to keep time, ‘ta, ta ta..’ instantaneously her brain translated each of their foot taps into measures, and each time they’d open their mouths as a verification of where they were. her sanity latched on to them tight, hoped her muscle memory didn’t dare to fail her now. for the rest of that song, it just barely did her good. 

now, she’d just had one more. 

one more and she could breathe.

she’s told herself that as she’d sipped on her water bottle, quietly pretending to grin at her members as they bantered to introduce the last song of the set. dae offered a ‘rock on’ hand gesture, and swiftly lifted her sticks before huffing into a ‘let’s go’. her low voice cut through just moments before, ‘TRAUMA’ starts drifting into her headset. 

‘falling into the depths of the sea-..’ leaves danbi’s mouth with a clean tone, and dae starts keeping time from then. slow, and heavy on her beat dae finds herself just barely catching her first symbol.

‘too slow, dae’ 

at the attempt to keep herself together she closes her eyes and leans into the beat, her brows furrowed for her occasional hits until the first music break, then her arms tried to fly but she started to loose to the fatigue. ‘fuck..’ dae huffed, ‘alittle more, just a little.’ if anyone was watching her closely you can see the pain surfacing into her expression, but her fight with this song wasn’t over until she’d continued through the final bridge. dae could only make it unscathed until ren’s vocals crashed through her consciousness. then, her fills were too short- some too long, crashes weren’t in the right places and her mind couldn’t balance in the right place. after each fuck up, dae spiraled in her thrown and soon she was cursing herself for not being able to keep up for one more. 

‘why? am i not keeping rhythm- are they going too fast….’ dae huffed to catch her breath, her sound dimming with her arms feeling weighted to her lap. ‘or am i going too slow… fuck- my head hurts- my body is fucking tired.’ her thoughts took hold of her and her drums stopped, and her sticks fell to the floor. 

in that moment, everything went quiet and her body felt a strange wave of relief when she’d stopped moving despite tidals instruments still ringing through her. there was a wet sensation dribbling down from her nose but she couldn’t acknowledge it until she felt it stream down her lips and past her chin to kiss the drum cap. with her squinted gaze, dae realized her nose had begun exposing a secret she’d kept from many. her nose bleeds. the crimson couldn’t even frighten her, all dae could do was lean into the drum set to give her posture a break. it infuriated her more that her eyes began to water, cause the last thing dae ever wanted to do was cry. ever. she wasn’t that childish, she wasn’t a wimp. 

-but her body felt so relieved seeing a crew member sneak out to urger her off stage. her breath was shaky, and hands trembled out of character once she’d made it to the wings. someone lifted her chin, ready with a handful of tissues to catch the blood- but dae found it hard to stand up straight when her head felt so heavy. a woozy sensation pumped through her veins, and dae took that chance to grip anyone near her to stay standing. she couldn’t remember standing for too long since a familiar voice started to take charge over the rushed and panicked stage hands. she’d dipped her head for just a second to see han leaded their attention to a quiet corner, and grabbing hold her arm to help sit her down once they’d walked her over. for some disgusting reason, she felt like crying knowing he was there. it brought her back to the moments where her uncle wouldn’t question why she came home with bruises and cuts and would just sit her down with the first aid kit. seeing han spring into action comforted her more than she was able to show.

dae let her mind waver above the heads of those around her; not yet wanting to face the serious expressions they may be trying to hide. she just let her head rest on the wall so she could speculate through her disorientation if she’d heard han giving orders to bring over water and to get the medic. she’d seen him pull out his phone and pull it to his ear- and moments later she’d seen the top of malachi’s head hastily weave through the curious eyes until he’d found her. dae didn’t mean to hold his gaze but she did, nervous to see his expression too worried. that's the whole reason why she never said anything about her fatigue. she didn’t want anyone to worry. 

too late now. 

malachi with gentle hands had replaced whoever held the tissue to her nose without saying much after quickly communicating with han. the silence of them waiting as her leg bounced in agitation burned, so she reached out for his hand and he didn’t hesitate to latch onto it. “i got so tired, kai.” she could’ve broke into tears right then, but she tried to squeeze his hand to fight it. soon she’d lost the battle, and sniffles followed after. “i couldn't keep up..”  

ren, danbi and dahye joined the circle of familiar faces but only for a second, by time they’d been able to get off stage- the medic had been walking her back to a van to the nearest acute care. 

dae hadn’t made it back to the hotel until the next afternoon.  

[acgasfanchallenge]

#ACGAS FREE TO ANYONE WHO WISHES TO WRITE IN FULL

So … you know that thing where a complete stranger (shy lurker who promised themselves they wouldn’t touch fanfiction again until they’d finished their book they are writing and have an impatient publisher waiting for) finally finds somewhere to post an idea (synopsis) they hope someone on AO3 (far superior to FF.Net) might take on and write in full for everyone’s (especially their) pleasure?

Well, hi! *waves*

It’s a bit dark (but a happy ending, naturally, as we all prefer those) and came to me the other night, when absorbed once again in the gloriousness that is Mrs Hall and Siegfried of ACGAS 2020 …

(I’m a stickler for canon, so currently not sure where to stick this in – assuming anyone wants it and doesn’t think it’s trash and simply not worth the effort, which it may well be, but I’m writing it anyway because it is bugging me and I MUST get it out of my system – but probably after the current season.)

Also, whoever runs this account, feel free to quickly take this from the web and squirrel it away if you wish to take it on yourself, before too many see it, as it is fully detailed. I’ll stop rambling now. Ahem.

It is the depths of winter, snow is heavy, and Siegfried, Tristan, Mrs Hall, James and Helen are in the Drovers the evening before Valentine’s Day, doing a pub quiz thought up by the barmaid to pull in punters post-Christmas (in the hope of a cash prize), since the harshness of winter plus ongoing war is making people think twice about spending money (especially in Yorkshire, where folk are generally reluctant to spend to begin with – and as a Yorkshire native I can confirm this is completely true).

Mrs Hall, being the incredible woman she is, is along with Siegfried et al steering their table in the winning direction, and ultimately they beat the rest, much to the annoyance of the other folk in the place (who see the vets as hardly being in need) and declares upon receipt that she is taking the winnings out of harm’s reach (Tristan is already contemplating another two rounds to warm them all up) and going to rest her banging head for an hour before preparing dinner. Siegfried wants to accompany her but she tells him to stay out from under her feet. Gerald, sitting nearby, is given a look of warning from him to also stay out from under her feet. Jess doesn’t like walking in snow, anyway.

Audrey leaves and trudges through the ever-growing snow the short distance home and unlocks the front door. Once inside, she hangs up her coat, calling automatically for Jess, and is confused when the dog doesn’t come running. She ventures in further, turning on more lights, and shrieks to see Jess lying motionless on her side, just inside the living room. She makes to go to her and is grabbed from behind by a black-covered figure and dragged into the kitchen, passed the dispensary where another figure is grabbing at bottles left, right and centre, and is pinned against the sink, begged not to scream. She is terrified, as anyone would be, but despite this recognises the hoarse, almost distraught, voice immediately. Her eyes widen then roll back, the realisation plus a nasty migraine too much to bear.

The figure catches her as she drops and lays her down, pleading for his mother to awaken. He is stopped by the second figure who hauls him to his feet and abruptly tells him to give him a hand. The revealed Edward then reluctantly leaves Audrey and goes to help. Audrey quickly awakens and unsteadily gets up, pale and afraid, and slowly creeps along to listen to what this chap is growling at her estranged son. It transpires they are stealing whatever drugs they can to sell on the black market, without any concept of the dangers of humans potentially having drugs formulated for animals. It is clear Edward has got himself into a fix he cannot get out of.

Audrey creeps back into the kitchen and takes a knife, then back along and, now armed, stands before them and calls for them to stop, put down the swag bag and get out, certain her clearly traumatised son will side with her, for never has he been so attentive as to call her name so desperately. The two freeze, and just as Edward is saying that it was a bad idea and they should go, a third figure appears knocks Audrey to the ground. Edward sees red and goes for him and chaos ensues with all three men arguing and fighting and Audrey caught literally in the middle, trying to stop both from attacking her son.

Her scream of pain puts an end to it and she collapses in Edward’s arms, blood pouring from her shoulder where she has been stabbed with a small pair of forceps. The two others scramble to leave, taking the swag bag with them. Edward pulls off his balaclava, cradling Audrey in panic. Adrenaline is pumping through her body and she asks him why. He tells her he owes them so much money and this was the only thing he could think of to pay it back. They’ve been watching the place to ensure no one was in, broke in at the back and the dog is only drugged, she isn’t hurt. No one was supposed to get hurt. Audrey tells him to take the winnings in her handbag and go far away, as far as the money will get him. If he is caught like this he will be locked up again and they will throw away the key. Edward refuses and she insists, begging him to stay out of the army if he can; he hasn’t the will for it and he will get himself killed. He is a good, gentle boy at heart, and nothing at all like his stepfather (or else his war-damaged and consequently abusive biological father) and he needs to use this moment to change his life for the better, and that she is sorry for how things have turned out but she has never stopped loving him.

Edward cries out as she loses consciousness and will not shake awake, then panics again as he hears voices at the front. He kisses Audrey’s forehead and flees, leaving the handbag and escaping out the back. By this point, the trio and Helen are inside and making their way merrily through the house and quickly realising something is wrong. Further chaos ensues as Siegfried spots Jess then, instead of remaining calm and cautious, blazes through the place and finds Audrey and half picks her up, checking for a pulse. Audrey is in and out of it, but cannot – will not – tell him what’s happened, although he can guess as he looks around at the destruction and missing items. It isn’t the first time the place has been raided. Tristan, James and Helen join them and he yells at them to get the village doctor, only to be reminded by Helen that the doctor is away at his daughter’s impending wedding tomorrow.

Siegfried swears then sobers at the speed of light and lifts Audrey into his arms and tells them to follow him, taking her into the surgery, where the table (in this story) is big enough for her petite body. By now, Audrey is in a degree of shock and out of it entirely, giving Siegfried free reign to remove her upper clothing (the urgency of the situation also removing his considerable inhibitions) and assess the wound, which isn’t as bad as he feared, but bad enough. Between them – Tristan and Helen keeping her otherwise warm and monitoring her pulse and breathing, and James and Siegfried removing the forceps, repairing the damage, irrigating and sewing up the wound – they sort Audrey out, joined after a while by Jess, now awake and wondering what on earth has happened. She comes straight over to the table to lick Audrey’s unresisting hand. Although she is stable, infection is still a risk with very limited antibiotics around. Mercifully Siegfried has something he can use on a human and does so. He then, despite being utterly exhausted, picks her up once more and carries her to her bedroom.

Once there, Helen takes over and tells the others to sit Siegfried down for half an hour with some strong tea. Siegfried reluctantly leaves, but returns as soon as he is permitted to sit by Audrey’s bedside. Helen tells him she briefly woke and managed a few sips of water and is now comfortably asleep on a painkilling draught and to try to close his eyes himself – and perhaps change his bloodied clothes. Siegfried nods and removes his thin jumper, sitting beside the bed and taking Audrey’s hand. Her skin is almost translucent in the firelight of the burning grate, hair curled in a dark wave across her white pillow, and bandaged shoulder just visible beneath her nightdress.

He sits and sobs as the impact of the moment and its otherwise possible consequence hits him. Audrey sleeps on, unknowing of his declaration of love, or so he thinks, for she concedes her own feelings when she wakes towards the man who has saved her in more ways than one, and she him, pointing out her head feels much better and eventually confiding what Edward has done, to which he agrees to stay quiet also, as well as join her on the bed for a decent kip, taking her in his protective arms. The end. Ish.

Any takers? If not, no problem, and HUGE thanks to everyone writing on AO3; there are some stunning works, my favourite being ladymelodrama’s third chapter of ‘Easily onward, thorough flowers and weed’. No surprises there. ;)

[swimfaye]

Dear Boss,

What I am typing here is not to one boss in particular or any current employer. What I am typing here is thoughts that have been running in my head since I was told on March 16th 2020 via text at 8:14pm at night that I was not to come into work because of the Santa Clara County Public Health said to quarantine for two weeks. My birthday was the next day. What transpired over the next 24 hours was this absolute sense of identity. How can a public health official cause me to lose my job? Why was my employer listening to a public health official and not so called common sense "we're a software company that is not based in medical or a contagion like place" Our offices were already safe distances from each other. I also was disappointed in my human resources department or lack there of. The next day I am paraphrasing but, I was told to go sign up for unemployment benefits.

It was my birthday. Ironically, on March 17th, 2010 I got a part time job. I was happy to be working it was my first day and I was proud of myself for finding a job. I wasn't thrilled about it, but I got a job and I oversaw the hiring of two more people to the workplace and my position go from part-time to full time. It was also the first time my boss lied to me about his birthday. It was such an detail that I found myself wondering why would you lie to me about it. Granted, I was overtly excited about getting a job on my birthday I was blissfully happy to tell everyone my birthday present was a job.

That is thing, Dear Boss is about. When you lie and I find out, its like the sliver from picking up a stick. The first sign that something isn't right, you are not be trusted or worse you don't trust me.

So, That was one thing that ran around my head reminding me of all the things I learned or wish I could have told my boss. Another boss, kept telling me about a promotion but, the sibling didn't like me. For whatever reason just the sibling did not like me for reasons that only recently reminded me that when some one doesn't like you its because you remind them of something they use to be. I learned quickly that it just wasn't going to work out but, I stayed like that sliver from the stick its something I treasured knowing how people feel about you makes you incredibly powerful and causes some reflection or transformation and maybe a little bit of honesty. Sometimes, I have that epiphany when I know its time to go and I am not going to wait around. I see the bank statements, I recognize when people are territorial, I understand the inherent problems people have with an mature individual versus a meek college student learning how to work a computer program. So, Dear Boss when I walked into work just five minutes later than my start time and saw you. I didn't care I was just 8 weeks into my job, I knew you didn't want me there because I wasn't doing what you thought I should be doing and I was judging you and your significant other drinking at work and I mean DRINKING AT 10AM in the morning. I knew that I wasn't going to stay and I did turn right around and a week later I had a job. I know how to get a job, I know how to work.

Speaking of that, Dear Boss, if you say you are going to be in to work early that would mean you are going to be in the office before me. I show up everyday for 120 days and you don't beat me into the office. I travel over 45 miles and I get into the office before you. I take public transit and i get into the office before you. Don't lie to me and say you're going to be in the office early because early means you are sitting at your desk before I walk through the office doors.

Which takes me back to why I left a job. i turned in my resignation over something really simple. The alarm code. Its a basic thing. Nothing fancy nothing big, but Dear Boss, you lost me not because of your micro aggression or lies but because you could not give me an alarm code. This alarm caused horrible migraines and actual stress. If you wanted me to leave you should have just fired me because I really did think about suing for harassment. You repeatedly did not address the issue stating there wasn't any available codes to use. You screamed when we got billed for nuisance alarms. Yet, no code. When I spoke with the attorney he said that it was petty of me to sue for such a thing. That is what I remember about you. Petty. oh and how I pity you for it. interesting thinking back on it. I pity you for being petty. sad. but alas. I am okay.

Thanks Dear Boss.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Fire and Ice Day for @nessianweek Yes, I just wanted an excuse to write more hockey player Cassian. No, I will not be taking criticisms at this time. Follow up to this drabble. Hope you enjoy! :) 

Nesta steps out of the English building, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, winter air. The lecture hall had been stifling, and the way Professor Matthews had droned on and on about Chekhov had her desperate for the class to end. She cuts across the Commons, heading toward the library, when she hears heavy footsteps fall in beside her. She doesn't need to look to know who they belong to. 

"So about that dinner," Cassian starts. 

"I don't actually recall agreeing to it." 

"Well, how else am I supposed to thank you for being there in my time of concussion need?" 

"You don't need to thank me. Maybe I was just hoping to see if a good thwack to your head would finally fix it. Clearly, it didn't." 

"Sadly, all it did was make my two working brain cells become just one," Cassian says, putting on his best solemn tone. 

The comment pulls a surprised laugh out of Nesta, and when she turns her head to look at Cassian, his smile is wide and his eyes are bright. She swears she can almost see pride swimming in those flecks of gold that make up his hazel eyes. 

"So what time should I pick you up?" 

Nesta doesn't respond. She merely rolls her eyes with a scoff and continues toward the library. That is until Cassian uses his long strides to step in front of her, effectively cutting her path off. 

"What do you have to lose?"

"My sanity?" 

"So 6:00 then?" 

Nesta takes a moment to take Cassian in. He still has that cocky grin that never seems to leave splashed across his face. But she doesn't miss the way he fidgets, running a hand through his tangle of dark curls, nor does she miss the nervous pinch around his eyes. She supposes she could go for a good meal, and while Cassian most definitely gets under her skin, he's not the worst company. 

"I have to meet with my group for our psychology project. 7:00?" 

"Deal." 

The smile on Cassian's face pulls even wider, and Nesta's pretty sure the only thing keeping him from actually cheering is the way he clenches his fists at his side. It's endearing, and Nesta bites the inside of her cheek to keep her own smile tampered down. 

"Well, see you then," Nesta says, starting back toward her original destination of the library. 

"Wear something nice, yeah?" Cassian calls after her. 

Nesta flips him off over her shoulder at the comment, and Cassian's booming laughter follows her all the way across the Commons. 

Luckily, meeting with the students in her group project isn't too migraine inducing. They divvy up the work and all agree on who will take which slides. When she makes it back to her dorm, she pulls a black dress out and gets started on her makeup. 

At 7:00 on the dot, there's a knock at her door. She quickly slips on her heels before pulling it open, Cassian waiting on the other side. The way that Cassian's mouth drops open and the awed way he whispers, "holy shit," has a blush creeping in and settling on Nesta's cheeks. 

"You clean up nice," she notes. 

And he does. Cassian has on a button down, the sleeves rolled up slightly, the tanned skin of his forearms and the ink that swirls against it on full display. Both the shirt and the black slacks he's wearing are form fitting, showing off the athletic cut to his body, years of skating having done wonders for honing the muscles. And while Cassian's dark curls are loose against his shoulders, Nesta can tell he's put product in it. 

Nesta waits for Cassian to make some sort of quip back after her comment, maybe for him to even comment on her, but he just continues to stare like he can't believe she's actually real. She tries not to focus on the fact that look has her heart beating double time in her chest, or the fact that warmth settles through her whole body. Instead, Nesta just rolls her eyes and steps fully into the hall, closing her door behind her. The sound seems to jolt Cassian back to reality, who blinks hard before his eyes focus properly on Nesta's own. 

"Wait," he says. "Bring your skates."

"My skates?" Nesta asks confusedly. "I thought we were going to dinner?"

"We are, but bring them."

"Why?"

"Just bring them." 

Nesta sighs, clearly not getting a straight answer out of him. But she heads back inside, stuffing a heavy pair of socks into her skates. She steps into the hall, skates in hand, and raises a pointed eyebrow as if to ask, 'happy?' Cassian's just answers with a wide grin. 

Cassian leads Nesta down to his truck, and she's surprised when he drives them to one of the higher end chophouses downtown. Dinner is good and the conversation flows easily between them. Cassian even asks Nesta about her current book and actually looks genuinely interested as she explains it. Although, his smirk is infuriating as she tries to subtly skip over the more… scandalous parts. 

After dinner, they clamber back into Cassian's truck, and Nesta's brow pinches in confusion as they pull into the rink parking lot. This explains the skate request. When Nesta looks over at Cassian, his eyes are already on her. Under the yellow glow of the parking lot lights, his eyes look extra golden, but Nesta doesn't miss the mischievous glint swimming in them. 

"I'm not exactly dressed for skating," Nesta points out, glancing down at her dress as if to prove her point. 

"Says who?"

"I'm serious." 

Rather than respond, Cassian just reaches back into the backseat of his truck, producing one of the hockey team sweatshirts, which he holds out toward Nesta. Nesta hesitates for only a moment before she's pulling it on over her dress. It's clearly too big on her, but the fabric is soft and the scent of fabric softener and Cassian fills her senses. 

When they get inside, the Friday night public skate is still in full swing, families and awkward high school dates milling about on the ice and in the lobby. In their attire, Nesta is sure that she and Cassian must stick out like sore thumbs. They walk up to the reception desk, and Nesta expects Cassian to ask for two passes for the public skate, but instead he and the rink staffer share a pointed look and then a key is being slid inconspicuously into Cassian's hand. Before Nesta can even start to ask what that means, Cassian is grabbing her hand, pulling her down the hall, past the locker rooms and snack bar. His eyes quickly dart around before he slides the key into the right side of the double doors, tugging Nesta inside and flipping on the lights. 

"The tiny-ass practice rink?" Nesta asks, looking around.

"Bal owes me a favor," Cassian explains, pocketing the key. 

Cassian grabs Nesta's hand again and leads her around to the benches. They each take their time trading their shoes for skates before stepping out onto the ice. 

There's something about the way ice feels under her feet that calms Nesta in a way nothing else can. The cutting sound of her skates against it is like music to her ears. She glides easily to center ice, taking a deep breath and letting the cold welcome her into its embrace. She feels Cassian's presence behind her, warm hands settling on her hips. 

"You know you look better in this sweatshirt than I ever did," he says, voice pitched low. 

"Sounds like a personal problem," Nesta counters, turning around to face Cassian. "It's not my fault even hockey things look better on figure skaters." 

"Big words coming from someone who needs a toe pick to stop."

"That's not what a toe pick is for." 

"How about a race then? To settle things." 

"Fine." 

They both skate over to the goal line, getting into their starting positions. Cassian counts them in with a ‘ready, set, go,’ and then they’re off, sprinting down the ice. Nesta’s hair whips past her face, the cool rink air rushing along her cheeks, as she pushes her legs to go faster and faster still. Cassian crosses the other goal line first, an icy spray flying up as he stops hard before the boards. Nesta stops beside him, crossing her arms as she takes in his wide smirk. 

"You totally cheated."

"What? I did not."

"You have longer legs. It's an unfair advantage."

"Sounds like excuses to me. Just admit it. Hockey players are better."

"Are they? Could a hockey player do this?" 

Nesta pushes off the boards and settles easily into her stride. A swing of her leg and a push of her foot and she's up in the air, pulling her arms in tight as she twists and twists around. Her feet land back on the ice and she glides out of the move gracefully. When her eyes land back on Cassian, his own are wide and awed as he watches her. But then his eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest. 

“Who’s cheating now?” 

“Fine. Something simple then.” 

Nesta jumps and does a single twist, holding her arms out when she lands and raising an eyebrow toward Cassian in challenge. His eyes stay narrowed on her, but he pushes off the boards, settling into a stride toward center ice. 

“How hard can it be,” Cassian mutters. 

Cassian skates a few circles, clearly trying to walk himself through the move, trying to hype himself up. Nesta has to bite the inside of her cheek while she waits. After a few moments, he throws himself into the air, spinning around once. His skates land back on the ice, and for a moment, Nesta is about to be impressed, but then his left foot is slipping out from under him. He falls ass-first onto the ice with a loud ‘oof.’ 

Nesta can’t help the loud laugh that tears its way out of her chest. She tries to press a hand to her mouth to stifle it, but her whole body shakes with it. When she finally calms down and finds Cassian's stare again, his face is marred with an unimpressed frown. 

“I’m so glad my pain brings you joy,” Cassian says sarcastically before holding his arms up toward her. “Aren’t you going to help me up?” 

“No.” 

Nesta realizes she’s made a mistake. A slow smirk slides across Cassian’s face and even from across the rink, there’s no missing the mischievous glint in his eyes. Before Nesta can even blink, Cassian is on his feet and charging toward her across the ice. The rink is small with nowhere to go, so soon Nesta finds herself cornered back against the boards, Cassian’s arms bracketing her in on either side. 

Cassian opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but it gets lost along the way, and instead he just stares. This close up, Nesta can see the greens hidden in his hazel eyes, the way they flicker under the rink lights. Cassian’s eyes drop down to her lips before settling back on her eyes, and Nesta’s heart does a little flip in her chest. 

"Can I kiss you?"

"What if I say no?"

Cassian leans in closer, and Nesta can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips, is sure that he can feel the way the breath hitches in her throat. 

"Say no, then," Cassian whispers. 

The silence hangs between them for only a second before Cassian closes the distance, pressing his lips to Nesta’s. Nesta practically melts into it, pressing closer as their lips slot and slide against one another. One of Cassian’s hands comes up to bracket her jaw, his other arm wrapping securely around her waist. She can feel the way he sighs against her lips, the deep groan in his chest as the kiss deepens. 

"Hey, why are the lights on back here?" 

They break apart at the sudden voice, Cassian taking Nesta’s hand and tugging her down so they’re hidden behind the boards and out of sight. They can hear the footsteps of the rink staffer walking around, and Nesta turns to glare at Cassian. 

"I swear, if we end up arrested because of you…"

"Don't worry. I'd never let that happen. We're both too pretty for jail."

[ickle-ronniekins]

it takes two

desc: when you make a stupid mistake, you can feel a shift in your friendships with your two best mates. so what better way to take care of things than to not mention anything to either of them at all? that is, until you’re bursting at the seams and need to get the story out, one way or another.

word count: 5.6k

warning(s): mentions and consumption of alcoholic beverages

A/N: something a little different. i still hope you all enjoy :) took me freaking forever to write this oi veigh. notes: my requests are still currently closed, i am merely working through the ones in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any platforms.

taglist: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darlingdetails @laneygthememequeen @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @feffffffy​@acciotwinz @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @shadowsinger11 @sleep-i-ness @shadychaoticcollection​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff​ @kageyama-i-want-tobiors​ @letsfightsomeorcs​ @theweasleysredhair​ @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs​ @wand3ringr0s3​ @finecole​ @angelinathebook​ @highly-acidic​ @purplefragile @90shermione​ @zreads​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​ @hollands-weasley​ @andromedaa-tonks​ @bbystrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle​ @mytreec​ @imseeinggred​ @idont-knowrn​ @auroraboringalis57​ @godricsswords​ @jejegu​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @starlightweasley​ @alwaysasadaesthetic​ @thisismysketchbook​ @izzytheninja​ @imboredandneedalife​ @hemmoporro​ @valwritesx​ @heavenlymidnight​ @hannolannno​ @msmimimerton​ @oh-for-merlins-sake​ @hufflepuff5972​ @pigwidgexn​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breadqueen95​ | message me if you’d like to be added or removed!

“Fred! Bloody hell, can’t you let me win just once?”

The common room was vibrating with chattering students. Across the table from you sat Fred with a rather smug look painted onto his face as if to say, Won again! You huffed dramatically; you’d been trying this entire term to beat him in a game of exploding snap and had yet to do so. You sulkily sank back into the couch and folded your arms across your chest, all while Fred just sat across from you and laughed. Just then, George plopped down next to you and thrust a goblet that was filled to the brim into your hands.

“Are you giving me this because I’ve lost to your git of a brother for the millionth time this year and need some reconciling?” You lowered your voice and your eyes to the goblet, the insides of it swirling with Gryffindor-deep crimson reds and oranges, the liquid that would course through your veins like a rapid fire.

“What’re you on about?” George asked, a sly smile creeping onto his face, “that’s butterbeer.”

You knew by the colour alone and the sheer burn in the back of your throat when you swallowed that it was definitely not butterbeer. Your eyes began to water at the sting. “Mhmm,”

“To answer your question, Y/N,” Fred dragged your name out a little bit longer than you would have liked, but he just adored teasing you, didn’t he? You narrowed your eyes at him as he relaxed back into the armchair, bringing the goblet of firewhisky to his lips, “no, I can’t let you win just once, I reckon. That wouldn’t be fair.” He then took a too-big-to-handle gulp, and began to cough from the burn of the alcohol.

“Fred, I swear to Merlin, could you be any less subtle, you idiot?” George sneered at his twin, grabbing for the goblet which Fred held above his head. George just sighed. “Can’t let the prefects see I’ve snuck this in.”

You giggled and shoved him. “Oh, you mean, your brother?”

The three of you peered across the common room to see Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny chatting away, Ron and Hermione’s shiny Prefects badges glistening on their robes. You shoved George playfully when he began to laugh.

“What? Ron wouldn’t tell. He’s too scared of us. It’s Hermione I’m worried about.”

You clinked your goblet with his and then with Fred’s and wiggled your eyebrows at the both of them. “Well then, boys, best make sure she doesn’t see, yeah?”

The three of you threw back more gulps and you reckoned it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but the buzz of the party was making you abandon all logical thoughts.

You jumped up in surprise to find yourself still in your uniform from yesterday, but somehow tucked comfortably underneath the covers in your four poster. There were two perfect seconds where everything was fine and wonderful and lovely, until the haze above you lifted and you felt the very obnoxious thumping in your head when you turned toward your window and the sunlight nearly blinded you. Groaning, you pulled the covers back over your eyes and stayed in the dark until one of your mates began to yell that you were going to be late for breakfast.

You changed into new robes and tried to tame the wild animal that was your hair, but it was really no use, so you settled for pulling it back without accentuating your migraine. Sullenly, you dragged yourself away from bed, through the portrait hole, and down the steps toward the Great Hall.

It was all coming back in fuzzy little increments, wasn’t it? Last night. You grimaced when you remembered dancing and singing and playing exploding snap and giggling like mad all evening, like a little schoolgirl. The room had been buzzing with excited students and everyone was thoroughly enjoying their Sunday evening, despite the fact that Monday morning lessons loomed in the distance. Everything seemed to be better after some firewhisky, right? Blimey. The firewhisky. No wonder you had such an awful headache! That’s the last time you’d ever listen to Fred and George and -- oi. Bloody hell. Fred and George.

You were hit not only with another sharp pain through your skill, but with the overwhelming sensation of what exactly had happened. The truth. The painful, blinding, can’t-even-pretend-it-didn’t-happen truth.

And the truth was, of course, that you’d been so overpowered by your own giddiness mixed with the alcohol that you’d promptly danced the evening straight away and fell asleep uncomfortably in the armchair next to the fire quite early in the evening. One of them, one of the twins -- and which one, you didn’t know -- had taken it upon themselves to carry you from the common room and up to your dormitory before placing you safely in bed, all before you’d been too delirious to realize that you’d pulled him forward and kissed him. KISSED him.

But who was him exactly?

Your heart jumped into your throat, eager to escape, and you stopped short right in front of the Great Hall. How could you face them now? You didn’t even bloody know which one you’d embarrassed yourself in front of! Though, surely the one had told the other, so you reckoned you’d embarrassed yourself in front of them both at this point.

And then you saw him -- he had half of his body slung over the Gryffindor table, trying desperately to grab for the last bit of bacon Ron seemed to have snatched up. He flicked his red hair out of his eyes and took the final piece of toast off of Ron’s plate in an attempt to get his brother back for stealing the bacon from under his nose. And then a bright smile split his face as he sat back down, clearly satisfied with himself, and you knew right then and there that it had been him.

You’d kissed Fred, in a drunken, delirious state.

Your stomach grumbled. You knew that you desperately needed to eat, but you turned swiftly on your heel, away from the Great Hall, away from him, away from the mess that awaited you as you ignored it all and made way for the kitchens instead.

-- -

You felt as though you were walking on eggshells. You were conscious of every grin, every flutter of your eyelashes, every wave, every movement of your own so as not to come off a certain way.

There was no way you’d be able to avoid the two of them without rising suspicion, so you told yourself you’d go on as normal and only think or speak on the entire ordeal if one of them brought it up. It was proving rather difficult though, to not think on it at least. But it had been a week and thankfully, neither of them had brought it up to you. Fred and George continuously sent you winks across classrooms and teased you mercilessly, but this was nothing new; however, each and every time they said your name with an upward inflection, a question perched on their lips, you felt your heart constrict a little.

Why was this having such an effect on you? It’s not like you fancied Fred, or either one of them, for that matter.

But the butterflies that danced around in your stomach each and every time you saw him made you question everything you thought you knew about your heart. Were you only feeling this wave of nervousness because of the kiss-that-shouldn’t-have-been, or because you were actually developing feelings for him? And if you were developing feelings for him, were they genuine, or were they only because you’d kissed him? Or perhaps, maybe the kiss meant nothing in that it was simply just a kiss, a drunken, silly mistake. OI VEIGH. You internally scolded yourself for thinking in circles.

One particularly bad day, you’d been gawking. There was no other way of describing what you’d been doing. You were straight up staring, but not in an “I love you, let’s get married” type of way, but rather, “I need to look at you for a moment to see if these feelings I’m feeling are real or I’m just kidding myself” way. Of course, Fred couldn’t tell the difference, so when he caught you watching him attempt to cut bits of gurdyroot into five equal pieces, he smirked at you and asked, “Like what you see?”

You coughed in surprise on the air you were breathing and sat up a bit straighter. “Just watching your technique,” you blurted out, which didn’t sound any less pathetic, you reckoned. You just couldn’t wait to get out of the dungeons and back to the common room to stick your nose in a book and escape to someone else’s world for a bit.

But blimey, this was driving you mad. You hadn’t told anyone of this little adventure, had you? You thought about possibly consulting Ginny, though discussing the idea of you snogging one of her brothers probably wouldn’t be high on her priority list. Then you thought perhaps Hermione, who was always of a sound mind, but then you’d have to admit to the firewhisky and that wouldn’t benefit anyone. Then the possibility of Harry caught your attention, because he was always getting himself into conundrums, wasn’t he? He was probably an expert on damage control about now. Though when it came to romance, he was kind of awkward, so perhaps he wasn’t the best person to consult either.

You were nearly bursting at the seams with this story -- you just needed to get it off of your chest, you needed to be told that you weren’t crazy and that it was totally okay to be questioning these things you were feeling. But you hadn’t had enough time to find an appropriate confidant, which resulted in you spilling your guts to the absolute worst.

“I kissed him!”

In a moment of horror, your eyes widened and you brought your hands to your mouth in surprise, because you couldn’t believe you’d just said the words out loud. All it had been this whole time was a thought, right? Perhaps even a dream. Maybe you’d been imagining it the entire time. But now, saying it out loud, you realized that what had happened that evening was as real as the befuddled boy standing across from you.

Poor George arched an eyebrow and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, you could tell. You began to shake your head and lift a finger, but he just took a step forward, his eyes softened now, as if to say, It’ll be alright, you know.  “Wait, Y/N --”

“Erm --” you were finding it really difficult to string together coherent sentences, because you weren’t exactly sure what you’d like to say. I may or may not be mad for your brother? I kissed him that one time when I was delirious and he hasn’t said anything and now I’m confused? So instead, you opted for, “Can we just -- go ahead and forget I’ve ever said anything?”

The grounds were absolutely bloody freezing -- the snow was coming down quite heavily now, everything already covered in a blanket of white, and you watched George shiver as he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. Yet you felt as if your entire soul was on fire.

You noticed though, that he didn’t look surprised; Fred must’ve told him. You felt crimson red flush your cheeks and you so very much wanted to bury yourself underneath the covers of your bed in your dorm. Unfortunately for you, though, you had lessons soon. “Fred’s told you already, hasn’t he?”

“No, no, he didn’t,” George replied, eager to make sure you knew the truth.

“Reckon you think I’m out of my bloody mind, don’t you?”

“I thought that long before this whole debacle.”

You punched him square in the arm and he recoiled jokingly. “Ha haaaa,” you told him before dropping your head into your hands and groaning. When you finally had the courage to lift your head, you met George’s gaze and watched as the wind rustled his hair and snowflakes landed all over his robes. He peered at you sympathetically. “Can we just... please don’t tell Fred you know anything. If he hasn’t told you, I reckon he’s trying to repress it -- you know, kind of like a nightmare you don’t wish to remember!” George snorted at your attempt at making fun of yourself. “Or -- I dunno, maybe you could help me figure out how to broach the subject with him -- or maybe --”

George placed gentle hands onto your shoulders. “Oi, you really haven’t a clue what you’d like to do about this, d’you?”

You shook your head embarrassingly and started to groan again.

“Tell you what,” George said, gesturing for you two to head back inside the castle, “you think on it, and if you need any help, let me know. Once you come to a decision, I’ll help you execute a plan, and for the time being, this stays between us. Deal?”

For the first time in nearly a week, you felt somewhat better. You took a rather deep breath and let the cold, winter air fill your lungs before exhaling and letting your muscles de-tense. Your heart fluttered at his kindness, and the tenderness in his eyes as he watched you. “Thanks, George, I appreciate it.”

Then you picked up a huge wad of snow and threw it straight at him until he was pummeling you, too.

-- -

He winked at you just as you rolled your eyes and walked across the classroom and plopped yourself in the seat beside his. He smirked a bit, as if to say, Fancy meeting you here.

You glanced up toward the ceiling for no reason other than to not look directly at him for a moment. With your heart thundering dramatically in your chest, you internally sent out a plea to the universe, who apparently found it rather funny to pair you and Fred together in nearly every single lesson. What’ve I done to deserve this type of internal agony?

“Wow, together again,” Fred teased as he pulled out his spellbook from his bag. Then he threaded his brows together and thought for a moment, as if he was concentrating his hardest on a scientific discovery, “Don’t you find it kind of odd that we’ve been paired together in nearly every class? I mean, blimey, it’s as if our professors are trying to get the two of us to date or something.”

A lump appeared in your throat at the word date, and you swallowed to try and dislodge it. “Yeah,” you replied breathlessly, a nervous laugh escaping you, “odd.”

A few weeks ago, you would’ve been delighted to have been paired with Fred. Not because you were in love with him or anything, but because he was one of your best mates, wasn’t he? And now, as you inched as far away as you possibly could from him without looking suspicious, you felt a shift in your friendship -- a crack, if you will, that, as the days went on and you became more and more uncomfortable around him because of the secret you held close to you, seemed to be growing larger and the distance between you both bigger.

You had to admit, though, the two of you were pretty great together. Not in that way, but just as partners, as equals. As friends. Which is what you’d always been. Fred had this way about him that made even the most dreadful of lessons seem lighter, and you reckoned you could do far worse than having him as your partner. You wouldn’t want to be paired with a dreadful Slytherin in Potions now, would you? You made a mental note to thank the universe later and take back what you said about the agony thing.

“Right,” Fred began one afternoon as the two of you swiftly made your way up from the dungeons to the common room, “so I reckon we should probably meet sometime soon so we can get started on this dreadful assignment for Snape, so I’ll just cancel with Lee and George. What d’you say? This weekend?”

Your breath got caught in your throat when you realized that Fred wanted to cancel plans with his best mates to spend time with you, albeit, working on assignment for Snape. But it wasn’t due for a week! “Fred, you don’t have to do that --”

George appeared around the corner and waved at the two of you before making his way through the seat of students. Meanwhile, Fred just waved you off. “Nonsense. It’s no big deal. Not trying to get away from me, are you?” He smirked at you.

“Of course not,” you replied. George appeared in front of you both, immediately engaging Fred in some conversation that you were sure was centered around some type of mischief they were looking to get into, but the blood pounding in your ears seemed to drown everything out around you.

You hated this. There was no getting around it. Why had you stupidly kissed Fred? Why was your subconscious trying to make you fall in love when you had other pressing matters, like exams and things? And why had the universe caused this wedge between you and your two best friends in the entire world?

Fingers snapped in front of your eyes and everything came back into focus. George laughed breathlessly, “You alright? Zoned out there for a moment,”

“Not dreaming about working on that assignment with me, are you? Have got a few more days until then, I’m afraid.” Fred teased. You swallowed and watched as George’s eyes shifted from his brother’s to yours.

You were able to produce somewhat of a laugh and punched Fred in the arm, a little two hard, because the boys just peered from one another to you, with confused types of grins on their faces. “Hilarious, Freddie. I’ve -- I’ve just remembered that I’ve got another assignment to finish up, so I’m going to head to the library -- but I’ll see you both later!”

And before either of the twins could convince you to come with them back to the common room to take a break, you sped off toward the library, trying with all of your might to catch your breath that seemed to have been stolen away.

-- -

You vowed after that night in the library that you were not going to let Fred get to you, no matter what. You told yourself to stay calm and grounded and to push aside whatever happened. To focus on what was in front of you. There was absolutely no point in getting worked up when it had obviously meant nothing to him, for he still hadn’t mentioned it. Who knows? Perhaps you’d also apologized in your delirious state, and he played it off. You just needed to move forward. And if your feelings were true, and it was meant to be, it would happen, wouldn’t it? The two of you.

You’d done a surprisingly good job of keeping your promise to yourself.

You found yourself falling back into your old routine. Each and every time Fred teased you or sent a wink your way, you merely rolled your eyes, reminding yourself that this was his normal behaviour and that there was absolutely no reason for you to read into it. He didn’t act overly flirty, he didn’t try and hold your hand or hug you or anything -- in fact, now that you were less focused on the entire ordeal, you came to realize that he was showing no signs that anything had happened at all.

You were busy in the common room, flipping furiously through a copy of the Daily Prophet, when the twins dropped their belongings and fell onto the couch across from you.

Without looking up, you could feel them both smirking at you. “I am not engaging in any type of firewhisky-related activity with you two again,” you told them straightforwardly.

“Why,” Fred teased, “because you’re worried about doing something you’ll regret again?”

Your heart nearly stopped beating at those few words. You froze and lifted your head; Fred was peering at you as though nothing was out of the ordinary, and George was looking back and forth between the two of you, looking as though he was ready to jump in with something if you needed him too.

“W-what d’you mean?” you asked tentatively, though you weren’t sure you wanted him to answer.

This was it, you reckoned. He was going to bring it up and then it’ll be out there in the open for the three of you to mull over; you’ll become awkward and uncomfortable around them both and that’ll be the new normal. Absolutely bloody fabulous.

Fred shrugged, as if it were obvious. “Your one woman show was quite the entertainment, you know.”

Oh. That you remembered. You breathed a deep sigh of relief, but then realized as the twins began to laugh that you weren’t exactly off the hook. It wasn’t the kiss they’d been discussing, but you reckoned that singing obnoxiously in the common room was probably just as embarrassing.

“No matter,” Fred said, “We haven’t even got any on us. Now if you’d both excuse me, I’ve got to go and ask that lovely lady out on a date. She’s been rejecting me for weeks, but I know she’ll come round.” He straightened his tie as if he were off to a business meeting and stood up, sending you and George bright grins before he went off to the other end of the common room to where Angelina was sitting reading a book. “Wish me luck.”

You watched with furrowed brows as Fred waltzed over to her, looking positively chuffed and confident, his aura of confidence engulfing the room entirely. He sat down next to her and you felt your heart begin to thunder against your ribcage; you realized now that you wanted to know the answer to Fred’s proposal probably more so than he did. And when, inevitably, Angelina rolled her eyes in a teasing sort of way but nodded her head in agreement as her eyes sparkled, you were surprised at the feelings swirling in your stomach.

It wasn’t sadness, or heartbreak, or confusion at all.

What you felt, in actuality, was relief.

You knew deep down that you didn’t love him, and thank Merlin he didn’t love you, too.

When he pulled Angelina to her feet and guided her toward the portrait hole, he looked over toward you and George and sent a wink as he bit down on his bottom lip, and for the first time in weeks, the eye roll you sent him back was genuine, and you finally felt as though you had your best mate back.

Once Fred was gone and completely out of earshot, you jumped up excitedly and began to shake George by the shoulders. “Blimey, woman, what has gotten into you?” he asked through a laugh.

“George, don’t you see?” you pleaded with him. “Clearly, whatever the bloody hell came over me doesn’t matter to Fred, because he’s sought out Ange instead! And it doesn’t matter to me either -- all those feelings I thought I had were merely because I was a nervous wreck due to the mistake I’d made. It was all in my head, wasn’t it? The feelings, I mean,” you rushed to continue when you noticed George’s confused features, “or whatever they were. Reckon I can just forget about that kiss now.” You sank comfortably into the couch, feeling as though a huge weight had finally been lifted off of your shoulders after having carried it around for bloody months, and you picked up your copy of the Daily Prophet again, reading giddily.

George leaned forward in the armchair, pressing his elbows into his knees. “You’re just going to forget about the entire thing?”

“Well, I don’t see why I’ve got to harp on it anymore, you know? Besides, I’ve got so many other things to focus on,” you told him before folding up your news clipping and setting it down on the table. “Speaking of all those things I need to do, I’d like to avoid them for the evening. What d’you say we break curfew and head down to the Quidditch pitch? I’d really like to give you a run for your money, Weasley.”

You noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes, and he was up and back from the boys dormitory with his broomstick before you could second guess yourself. You felt yourself blush when he said, “Whatever makes you happy. But I’ve got to warn you, I’m absolutely going to crush you out there.”

You pulled a thick scarf around your neck and scoffed before hopping through the portrait hole. “In your dreams, mate.”

-- -

You both landed dramatically on the couch after spending far too much time out in the cold. You wondered if your nose and ears were going to turn permanently red, and you rubbed your hands together as you inched closer toward the fire.

“You may have gotten me that time,” you told George, who was slowly sipping his steaming hot tea, “but it’s only because I’ve had an off few weeks. Now that everything’s back to normal though, I’ll be able to kick your arse just like you deserve.”

“Easy there,” he replied, and though his voice was soft, it echoed throughout the desolate common room, “don’t go getting any ideas. Haven’t you heard that Fred and I are the greatest beaters Gryffindor has ever seen?”

You actually snorted. “Right, okay, sure -- whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You realized then just how tired you actually were. You sank back into the couch and closed your eyes for just a moment; if you gave yourself a few minutes, you knew that you’d be absolutely out cold and probably snoring. You giggled a bit at the thought -- it’s no wonder Fred didn’t fall in love with you!

You heard George laugh a little too, and his voice was quiet in your ears. “Come on, Y/N, it’s nearly one -- let’s get to bed.”

And then you bolted forward, just like you had the morning after drinking all of that firewhisky. Realization hit you like a ton of bricks; next to you, George froze, a bit confused by your jolt, and you just peered at him, reliving it all over again.

Come on then, let’s get you to bed, Y/N.

It was the way he said your name, both that evening and tonight, filled with such tenderness and care that you’d be able to recognize it anywhere, easily pick it out of a lineup. You wouldn’t forget it for as long as you lived.

George threaded his brows together and shook his head slightly, as if to say, Are you alright?

And before you could let yourself figure out a better way of doing this, you breathed out, “It was you.”

His features twisted from confusion to nervousness, and then to relief. His face was flushed red, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold air or the fact that he was remembering, and reliving it all with you.

It was George that you’d kissed that night, not Fred.

It was evident that he didn’t know what to say. He parted his lips, as if he were going to open his mouth and speak, but nothing happened. You laughed a bit at how bloody stupid you’d been, and then grinned sympathetically at him. “It was you, the whole time.”

You wondered how you’d missed it, how you’d assumed it was Fred. And then, as George tentatively inched forward and placed his hand on top of yours, that all those feelings of butterflies and nervousness and heart-stopping moments hadn’t been because of Fred at all.

Whenever Fred had said something cheeky and your heart began to race, it was only because you’d caught George peering at you first.

When you stumbled over your words that time in a lesson, when Fred had jokingly told you that he thought your professors were trying to get you two to date, it was only because your head and heart subconsciously yearned for his twin instead.

And when your heart had started to race that day on the snow-covered grounds, at the idea of telling Fred anything at all, it was actually because of the tenderness in George’s eyes as he promised to not say a word to anyone.

“Why -- why didn’t you say anything?” you asked him.

It was so odd to see him so nervous; he and Fred were the most confident people in the bloody world, weren’t they? George sucked in a breath and you felt yourself tighten the grip around his hands as he spoke his own truth. “I dunno... you were so tired that night and so I figured it was just a mistake. But then you got all weird around us and so I figured perhaps not. Then you went and thought it was Fred and confided in me that one day... I just didn’t want to scare you away. You were so upset and confused and I didn’t want to worsen it. I figured you’d come to the realization on your own -- or, I hoped you would.”

You bit down on your lip and continued to laugh; you had felt so embarrassed by the idea of telling Fred when you thought it was him, but with George, it felt okay.

“Look,” he continued, squeezing your hands, “I’m not really sure where you’re at right now -- I mean, blimey, we’ve been best mates for years, haven’t we? If you’d like to forget the entire thing and go back to normal, then I -- I can do that.” He paused for a moment to consider the look in your eyes. He sucked in another breath, as if more oxygen in his lungs would give him the courage to continue. “I just... I don’t know if I want to.”

He was lucky then, because you didn’t know if you wanted to either. Perhaps it wasn’t the firewhisky that made you abandon all rational -- perhaps it was George and the way he made you feel -- because you pushed aside all what if’s and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you before gently brushing your lips over his. His surprise lasted about two seconds before he melted into you completely, and it was as if the feeling of his lips moving slowly against yours brought back all recognition from that night. Of course it had been him -- the faint taste of cinnamon and vanilla transported you right back.

When you broke apart, you both hovered close to one another for a moment before looking at one another and beginning to laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire ordeal. You pressed your lips together and said, “Normal’s overrated anyway, isn’t it?” He nodded and brought your hands to his lips. “Go to Hogsmeade with me.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow,” you told him straightforwardly, “I’ve been dying to head into Zonko’s. Then let’s grab lunch and a drink at the pub. No firewhisky, though." You both laughed.

He smirked at you and you watched as the fire reflected in his eyes burned brighter. “Did you just ask me out on a date?”

“That depends,” you replied, somehow feeling even more confident than before, “are you going to say yes?”

“Of course I’m going to say yes.”

You pulled him to his feet and he pulled you into an embrace; you wondered again how you’d gone on so bloody long not realizing it had been him who you’d kissed. You thought about apologizing for it, though you just squeezed your eyes shut and leaned your head against his chest, and you realized that he’d somehow be able to hear all of the unspoken words inside of you. Thank you for being so kind about all of this, you’d say. He pulled you tighter toward him and he pressed a kiss to your hair. I care about you too much not to be anything but that.

You both stepped apart. Awkwardly, you began to fumble with the strings on your sweater and George ran a hand nervously through his hair. This was going to be so strange, wasn’t it? Dating your best friend. Though as odd as the prospect seemed, you thought for a moment why you two hadn’t been doing this the entire time.

“Erm, so, tomorrow,” George stumbled a bit, walking with you toward the steps up to the girls’ dormitory. “Lunch, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, feeling overly giddy as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Tomorrow.”

Just as you were both headed up to your respective dormitories, George turned and said your name and stopped you. “Yeah?” you asked.

He shook his head slightly and furrowed his brows. “You know I’m only joking, right? It was Fred that night.”

Hot, bubbly panic took you over at those words, but then the git began to laugh hysterically and so you tossed a throw pillow directly at him and it hit him square in the head. For Merlin’s sake, these two you were going to drive you bloody mad.

“In that case, I won’t be seeing you for lunch tomorrow,” you called in a sing-song type of voice before heading up the steps.

You were right at the door of your dormitory when you heard George laughing still. “Aw, come on Y/N, I know that’s not true. You find me far too irresistible. I’ll see you tomorrow, love.”

You bit down on your lip to suppress a giggle. You’d have been really bloody angry had he not been so right about the irresistible thing.

“I’ll be sure to bring Fred along, too.”

“Weasley!”

[a-dorin]

exception

pairing: maul x human!reader 

word count: 685

warnings: none really. some tooth-rotting fluff. mentions of periods. mentions of pms... umm.. lemme know if there’s anything else. 

a/n: not me indulging in self-projection fic. i’m currently suffering from a migraine/my period. also, the reader is human in this. i’m sorry to all my peeps who have alien ocs :// i hope you guys enjoy. it’s been a long time since i’ve typed for my favorite zabrak <3 

maul loathed the human species. 

he despised their fragility. their weaknesses.  how pathetic they were, really.   how vulnerable they were to harm. how they possessed a multitude of health issues and diseases. how every single human was different in their own way, carrying a variety of complexities along with them. 

stars, how his lip curled in disgust at the mere thought of a human. 

yet, he was here, with you wrapped around his frame, running a steady hand through your scalp, massaging your roots. the other was absentmindedly running circles on your exposed back, dipping from the junction of where your shoulder blades met, down to the curve of your spine, just above your butt. 

a low, hushed tune drips from his lips as he does so, an old paecian lullaby. one he swore was erased from his memory he years passed, but it just flowed with such ease from his mouth. 

“are you feeling any better?” 

you stir, wrinkling your nose as another spasm of pain ripples through your skull, the pain shrill and unforgiving. 

“no.”

“you know how much i don’t like seeing you suffer like this,” his voice is delicate, careful not to be too loud for your sensitive state, “i wish there was more that i could do.”

“you are all i need right now,” you whisper, half-dazed from sleep, half-awake from the discomfort, “just, stay here.”

there’s a rumble in his chest, warmth blossoming within his two hearts. a throaty purr vibrates his upper half, the hand that was tangled in your hair drifting towards your face. 

he holds your cheek for a moment, the pad of his callused thumb savoring the smoothness of your skin, the way it feels so wonderful under his fingertips, “you know i would never leave you here like this. i’d worry too much while i was away.”

there’s a beat of silence as you snuggle closer to him, wriggling your body so that his warmth could envelop you. his tender touch and cautious demeanor have you melting, as he was typically never one to show such affection. 

however, he wanted to swath you with it, especially when you needed it most. 

and maul knew this was a monthly occurrence. it was almost like clockwork, even. he knew when it would start to the exact day. you whole aura would shift. you would become more susceptible to the migraines that would rack your skull. you would experience cramps in your abdomen. sometimes so badly that it would keep him up all hours of the night, holding you in his arms as you sobbed and sobbed, begging for the pain to stop.

maker, did maul wish more than anything he could help the pain subside.  

he hated those aspects of the human anatomy. the menstrual cycle. why did humans have such a complicated way of doing things? particularly, he didn’t like seeing how physically weak it made you at times. 

oh, how fragile you were like this. 

maul leans forward, placing a gentle kiss on your head. you murmur a string of incoherent babbles. something about a thank you. or, was it i love you? the zabrak couldn’t quite make out the words. 

“i love you, my shining star,” maul resumes his actions, his touch so achingly wonderful as you fall into a deep slumber. 

oh, how maul did not favor how he got here. how you were in such despair. yet, the tranquility of the moment, the way your heartbeat synchs with his, the way you just fit so perfectly against him, a glimmer of happiness bubbles up. 

he’s content like this, really.

the zabrak was well aware he would be doing this again next month. and the next, and the one after that. but, truly, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t all that bad. just an excuse to dismiss his duties, to tend to you. to savor moments like these. ones that would stick in his memory for years to come. 

oh, how maul loved you. so much. 

maul didn’t like humans. 

but you. 

you were the only exception. 

his favorite human. 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

tagging some maul mutuals: @maulieber​ @justalittlecloud​ @zabrak-show​ @elenamiria​ @anakinswhore​ @mother-0f-monsters​ @maximumninjavoid​

[s1utspeare]

to the writing challenge prompt list: liu sang (you guessed it!) and liberosis 👀 bc what else would I want other than PainTM

oooohhhh Vishie you do know the way to a girl’s heart (in reference to this post; send me some prompts!!)

liberosis—the desire to care less about things

It’s a long way down the mountain.

The only blessing is that the pain is less. Sure, the world is sweeping in great, broad strokes underneath his feet, and there’s a ringing in his head that’s louder than anything he’s heard before, but it doesn’t hurt, per say. At least not physically.

Their little caravan goes something like this; Wu Xie is carrying Jia Kezi, as Wu Xie is now, irony of all ironies, healthier than pretty much all of them put together, except for maybe Ouxiang, who is currently helping Pangzi hop along. The big man is talking loudly to his two best friends, probably to distract himself from the pain of a compound leg fracture. Occasionally, Wu Xie will put a hand out to keep Pangzi upright, the three of them molded together once again, as they should be.

Hei Xiazi plods along behind them. He’d volunteered to carrying Jia Kezi himself, but he’s currently got a bullet floating in his abdomen, so Wu Xie had declined his offer. Despite this, Hei-ye seems relatively okay, which is probably due to his strange superhumanness, though his face is somber, pale. Li Jiale is a few steps behind him, which Liu Sang privately thinks is a bit funny; blind, mute, and now deaf. What a group they are.

(It’s not funny, actually. He doesn’t know why he said that.)

Liu Sang and Bai Haotian are bringing up the rear, due to being the shortest and, as much as he’s loathe to admit it, the weakest. Bai Haotian seems to have decided that she’s his personal bodyguard now, which confuses him a lot, because in any other circumstances, he would be protecting her. But ever since... well, since, she’s taken a stance next to him like a sentinel, and even glared at Wu Xie once when he approached too quickly and Liu Sang flinched because he couldn’t hear him coming. 

Yeah. He couldn’t hear him coming. Fuck. 

If he wasn’t so tired, he’d probably be in the middle of a full-blown panic attack, which he has a feeling will be coming later. He’s... there’s a lot going on, in his brain, underneath the ringing and the migraine that’s been pounding steadily against his skull since he took on a headful of dynamite, because, surprise, losing your hearing doesn’t automatically get rid of the pain you already did to your brain before your eardrums ruptured. So there’s still a tattoo beat behind his eyes and clawing at the back of his neck, and he kind of wants to shake his head, pound on the side until he stops feeling like there’s bugs crawling around under his skin. 

That had not been a pleasant experience. At all. A soft buzz, and then, before he could react, the sharp pinch of something that shouldn’t be there, carving into his ears and rooting around inside. He doesn’t remember collapsing on Pangzi, doesn’t even know why he did, really, except for that his body sensed an intruder and went into full lockdown mode. The phantom sensation of legs and wings brushing along his ear canal makes him shiver, and he can’t help it, he jerks his neck to the side, trying to fling the feeling far away. 

His balance has turned to shit, though, because two perforated eardrums mean that your inner gravitational sensory system is fucked, so the movement ends up over-correcting him to the side, where he knocks into Bai Haotian’s shoulder and almost sends both of them flying. Luckily for her, though, he’s maybe at a quarter of what his strength should normally be, so she just stumbles a bit, able to keep them both upright. 

Sure doesn’t seem like it though. Everything tips on its end, and he finds himself looking at the sky while still on his feet which is a weird sort of view. Also his neck feels like putty. Hm. Maybe he should throw up. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t really solve any of his problems except to make him dizzier, and when his body gets done heaving onto the trail, he finds that someone has sat him down on a large rock and is pressing a cool hand to his forehead. He blinks rapidly, dumbly, at Wu Xie, who is hovering in front of him, and his mouth is moving. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Liu Sang tells him. Again. How loud is he talking? He has no idea. His vocal cords vibrate in a way that makes it seem like it’s fairly loud, but he can’t hear. He can’t hear it, he can’t fucking hear—

Oh, yup, here comes the panic. 

He pushes Wu Xie away, clumsily, and tries to stand up again, but haha, his balance is actually garbage, so he just pitches forward into someone’s arms, and it’s Wu Xie again because of course it fucking is, why is he still here? He was supposed to leave Liu Sang behind, he was supposed to go, Liu Sang wasn’t supposed to make it out—oh. Oh. He wasn’t supposed to say that, was he? 

Wu Xie’s face swims before him, and his mouth is open too wide for normal speech, so he must be shouting, which makes sense, because Liu Sang has just told him a really big secret. But it’s the truth, isn’t it? Wu Xie has to know that. 

Liu Sang is supposed to be dead. 

He almost wants to laugh, because it seems like the world’s cruelest joke, almost, that they’re all mostly alive. Because fuck. Liu Sang almost had his throat slit, almost had his skull beaten in, almost had a bug eat his brain. And at that point, with Wu Xie sick and drowning in his own lungs and dying, with their chances of survival dwindling down to nothing as they tried to find the right combination of choices to make it to Thunder City, he’d done the calculations. Liu Sang’s not just good hearing and a fake Zhang tattoo; he’s smart. It’s what’s kept him alive. It’s what was going to kill him. 

When Pangzi held up the stick of dynamite next to the thunder columns, the calculations went like this:

Wu Xie is dying. The only way he survives is by getting to the Artifact. That’s it.

If Wu Xie dies, Ouxiang and Pangzi are dying. There’s no shape with only two sides.

If Ouxiang and Pangi die, Bai Haotian dies. She’s twenty; she’s fucking twenty years old. She’s not dying in some stupid tomb in the middle of nowhere, alone, by herself.

Maybe Hei-Xiazi makes it out. Maybe. But Mr. Jiao is here, too, and even Hei-ye can’t outrun a firing squad.

Liu Sang is their best weapon, right now. That’s all. He’s always been useful, but right here, right now, this is where he does what he does best. This is where he listens. And if that happens to fuck over Mr. Jiao and Jiang Zisuan and every other fucking person who’s tried to kill them, then sure. Fuck it. It’s as much as he could’ve hoped for.

With only one ear, only one half of his whole, Liu Sang is basically already dead. Might as well make it official.

It’s just math. It’s logical. He was their best hope. Their only hope. You don’t save the bullets in your gun because shooting means they’re gone afterward. You just. You shoot.

He had made his peace with it. He was going to die in that tomb, in the caves, under the ground, alone. He was damaged, and he didn’t know if he would ever be able to work again like he had before. So he turned off the safety. Pulled the trigger. He’d given Wu Xie the rest of everything he had to offer, because somewhere along the way, he realized that he couldn’t bear to see him die.

He told himself that it was for Ouxiang, because Ouxiang would have been devastated without Wu Xie, but there’s some part of him, hidden under layers and layers of thorns, that recognized that losing Wu Xie would devastate Liu Sang, too. He didn’t want to watch that. He didn’t want to listen to that. And if he hadn’t been able to save Wu Xie, in the end, then at least he’d have gone first.

It was selfish, really.

He had pulled away from Wu Xie because he didn’t want to go, not because he couldn’t. He accepted the handful of peanuts from Pangzi with the intention of dropping them as soon as they were out of sight, because his stomach had been rolling too hard to even think of food, and he was so tired, so tired. He was ready. He was dying. He was going to curl up next to a stone wall, just out of sight of anyone who might pass by, and he was going to close his eyes and pretend that he wasn’t alone, wasn’t afraid, and then slowly, slowly, he was going to fall asleep. It would have been nice, he thinks. It would have been okay.

But by some sort of miracle, they’re here, on a mountain path, and Liu Sang is alive and Wu Xie is alive, alive enough to be shouting at him, alive enough to ask, What do you mean? Liu Sang, what do you mean, you weren’t making it out? Liu Sang. Liu Sang.

Liu Sang’s never been good at reading lips, but he knows the shape of his name in Wu Xie’s mouth.

He remembers, then, why he has never fallen in love before.

It’s because it sounds like nothing.

It’s because it hurts.

[backtobackbakubabe]

I am the Alpha Now Part 17

Bakugo X Reader

Words : 2431

Masterlist

Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically.

************************************************************************

When you woke up you felt like you had a hangover. Your whole body ached, your mouth was dry, your head was pounding, and to top it off you wanted to hurl. Lucky for you, you didn’t really have enough in your stomach to throw up.

So instead you just laid still, curled up on your side, doing your best to pretend the last 48 hours weren’t real. Pretending that you were back in your room at UA and any minute now Katsuki was going to turn over and wrap you in his arms. Maybe he’d scold you for sleeping in. Or maybe he’d be in a good mood and bring you coffee, just the way he knows you like it.

You were ripped away from your little fantasy as the sound of the door slamming. “Wake up brat, it’s time to eat.” Dabi plopped down rather roughly next to you with a bag in hand. “You’re American right? So, I figured this would work.”

You cracked an eye open to see a McDonalds bag and your stomach started to roll just looking at it. “I think I’m going to be sick…”

Dabi scoffed, “What you too good for fast food or something?” He pulled out a box of nuggets and some fries.

Honestly it had been a while since you had the greasy food. Katsuki had made it a habit to cook for you whenever he could. He was a master meal prepper and his cooking was always healthy. Delicious for sure, but he would never give you junk food.

You hummed as you tried to sit up. Clenching your eyes shut the entire time. “I’m pretty sure if I eat anything right now, I’ll just throw it up.”

“And I’m pretty sure you won’t feel any better until you get some food in your stomach. Now stop being such a child and eat.” He pulled out a gallon jug of water, “And drink this. You’re probably a little dehydrated from sweating so much earlier.”

He caught you looking at him like he had two heads and he growled. “Look just because I’m pretty much a villain, and I basically kidnapped you, doesn’t mean I’m completely heartless. And I’m definitely not stupid. If you’re going to be in any kind of fighting condition, we need to at least try to take care of you.”

You glared at him, “Do you usually take care of people by beating the shit out of them?”

He shoved the box of nuggets into your hands, “No, I don’t usually take care of anyone at all. Be happy I’m even trying. Just fucking eat already we have more work to do.”

You froze with a nugget halfway to your mouth. “I-I can’t take anymore today.”

He just rolled his eyes, “God you’re such a weenie. We’re just going over some files. Besides I thought you weren’t scared of me…”

Your eyebrows knitted together, “I’m not scared of you. If I wanted to leave right now I could! The only thing keeping me here is the blackmail…” Your voice got quieter, “And the fact that my body doesn’t seem to want to move…”

You took a small nibble of your chicken nugget and you had to admit it was actually helping a little bit. Dabi gave you a knowing smirk, “Atta girl. Eat up, we have a lot to go over and I don’t like repeating myself.”

He spread a few files open on the table in front of you. You noticed one belonged to you and you really hoped he wouldn’t be going into that one. The rest however seemed to be everything they knew about Shigaraki. On top there where several pictures of people that he had killed. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as your vision blurred and your head swam with those images you would never be able to unsee. How was Dabi so casual about this?

Speaking of Dabi he was currently snapping in your face, “Seriously? Pay attention would ya? …..Fucking zombie”

You tried to return your attention back to what he was saying. Honestly, a lot of it you already knew from what you learned about him at UA. The league of villains was a hot topic. The league had a weird obsession with the students that attended there so naturally UA made sure to prepare them for worst case scenario.

You weren’t going to tell Dabi that though. Firstly, because he doesn’t need to know how much you already knew about him, and secondly… the longer he talks about this shit, the longer you don’t have to “train” with him.

Dabi had been absolutely brutal. He had broken your bones, burned you, stabbed you, and at one point you were sure he gave you a concussion. The worst part was you couldn’t even defend yourself. You were expected to sit there and voluntarily let him hurt you over and over again. It was no wonder why you felt like shit now.

You continued to nibble on your nuggets as Dabi drowned on, pointing to words on a page that you couldn’t even focus on. You hugged your knees to your chest, and for the hundredth time since you left UA, you felt empty. There was this constant nagging feeling at the back of your mind. No doubt it was Katsuki or Mercy doing everything in their power to open up the bond on their end. It was starting to give you a headache.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. Dabi without missing a beat continued talking while pushing the water jug towards you.

When you didn’t drink anything, he rolled his eyes, “You have a headache because you’re dehydrated. Fucking drink some water.”

A deep growl rolled through your chest, “No… I have a headache because in the last 48 hours a certain someone has bashed my skull in… Twice!” You winced as a sharp but brief pain ripped through your head.

To your disgust Dabi just chuckled at your pain. “You’ll heal. Besides it’s probably just a migraine. Don’t be dramatic.” He stood up and dimmed the lights. “There, now quit your bitchin, drink your water, and fucking pay attention would ya?”

*****************BAKUGO’S POV*****************************

He was never known to be a patient man. So, it was no surprise that he had been pacing for the past twenty minutes, waiting for Hawks. There was no reason he should have beaten Hawks here… the fucker had wings!

He was running an angry hand through his hair when he felt a light breeze followed by the thud of feet hitting the ground.

“About fucking time! What? Did you stop to get your nails done on the way here? I told you I’m in a hurry!” Bakugo’s eyes narrowed as Hawks took his time approaching him.

“Calm down dude. I told you I was in the middle of hero business. I even did an extra sweep on the way here looking for her. If you could just pull the stick out of your ass for two sec-“

Bakugo grabbed Hawks by his stupid jacket. For as tightly as he was gripping him, his voice somehow remained calm “That stick up my ass, is the fact that my girlfriend is missing. I’m sorry if that doesn’t seem to be a priority for you, but I refuse to give up until I find her. Now… are you going to listen to what I have to say, or am I just wasting my time?”

Hawks eyes went from surprised, to angry, to soft in the matter of seconds. But that’s what he does best right? Bakugo’s heard stories about how sneaky and manipulative Hawks can be. “Look I get it, you’re worried. I can’t even pretend to understand how deep this goes. Aizawa told me about your little link to her or whatever… sounds intense.”

Bakugo’s dropped his hands back to his sides and grunted, “It is. And it’s also none of your business So, are you going to help or what?”

Hawks put his hand on Bakugo’s shoulder and tried to give it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise you. I’ll do everything I can to bring her home safe.”

**************** Y/N POV*******************************

“You want me to what?”

You were currently wrapped in a blanket looking at Dabi as if he had lost his mind. Which in your defense he probably had.

“Exactly what I said. I want you to try and heal yourself as you’re getting hurt. Do your freaky little eye glowy thing you do when you heal yourself before I actually hurt you. See if it helps counteract it.” He was reaching a hand out to you now, and you noticed they were starting to smoke a little.

You jumped away from him, “Please don’t. I thought you said we were done with that for today?” You frantically looked around for a place you could hide from him. You could lock yourself in the bathroom. But then he’d probably just kick the door down… or melt the handle.

Your gaze snapped back to his, he looked like he was having fun. “Besides it’s hard to stop my shift once I start to go into Alpha mode.”

Dabi smirked at you, “Okay well as much as I’m dying to see what that looks like. Can you just…not? I mean you said you heal faster as a human right?”

You shook your head, “I mean, technically I do. But I think that’s just because my human body is easier to hurt. My wolf form is more… I don’t know. Durable, I guess. Katsuki collapsed a whole ass mountain on me once during training. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but I survived.”

Dabi nodded as he uncharacteristically took interest in what you were saying. “Ok so your wolf form can take more damage, but you heal faster human… And this has nothing to do with your “Alpha mode” or whatever?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “You look like you have an idea… and usually your ideas hurt.”

“Relax weenie. I’m just trying to think this through. I’m trying to find out if there is a way to combine your wolf strength, with your human healing. Can you go into Alpha mode without shifting?”

You scoffed, “Where you not just listening. Going into Alpha mode is what triggers my shift. I can do it for small bursts of time as long as I reign it back in fast enough. But no longer than a minute.”

He threw his hands in the air in exasperation, “You say that as if it’s a well known fact. I fucking met you like two days ago. I don’t even know what the difference between Alpha mode and the rest of you even is.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around you, “If it’s not something that I do through the pack bond then I need to use Alpha mode. So shifting. Alpha commands. My senses are already naturally heightened but they’re even more so in Alpha Mode. Then there’s the speed, strength, and like I said the durability. And yes, technically healing is a part of that, but that’s something that over time just became a subconscious thing. Hence why I do it more in my human form.”

He walked over to you and tugged on the blanket, “Okay, well you said you could use it in short bursts. Do you think you could focus on just the durability part? Could you make that a subconscious thing too?” He yanked the blanket away from and pressed a hot palm on your bicep and squeezed.

You squeezed your eyes shut as they began to water. It wasn’t burning, not yet, but it was hot enough to be uncomfortable. “Look I’m getting really sick of your shit. You keep pushing me like this and one of us is going to end up dead, and it’s not going to be the one who can heal themselves.” When you opened your eyes again they were glowing. Your anger was quickly becoming the only emotion you could feel.

“Good girl. Now-“

“NO!” You snapped at him. “You don’t get to call me a good girl.” You grabbed his hand and yanked it back away from your arm. “You don’t get to beat me and berate me, and then buy me chicken nuggets and think everything is okay.” You could feel yourself start to slowly shift, your teeth coming to a point, your claws start to poke through your fingernails. “Because I am NOT YOUR GOOD GIRL!” You felt the familiar tingle go down your spine, signally you were about to shift.

“Whatever you do, don’t shift! Hold that as long as possible.” He was totally ignoring your outburst. “Start trying to heal yourself.”

You growled, “Heal myself? I’m not hurt you lunatic.”

A burning sensation engulfed the hand you were using to hold his wrist. “You are now… Now try again. Start healing yourself. Before I do anything. I want to test something out.”

****************BAKUGO POV***********************************

The whole meeting has just been one big game. Hawks fed Bakugo lies about the progress he’s made looking for you. While Bakugo lied about his suspicions of you packing up for America. Both men secretly trying to get the other to slip up and admit what they know.

Bakugo’s teeth were grinding so hard he was surprised his teeth hadn’t cracked.

Hawks was in the middle of another bullshit lie when two familiar people approached the table and took a seat on either side of Bakugo. “Oi! What the fuck are you doing here?”

Hawks smirked, “Oh I hope you don’t mind. They were worried about you, so I asked them to meet us.”

Kirishima and Midoriya were both giving him worried, sympathetic looks to which Bakugo rolled his eyes. “I told you idiots I would check in later tonight.”

Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, but you didn’t look so hot when we left you this morning. Plus, we feel bad for ditching you for graduation.”

Midoriya pipped in, “What kind of hero’s would we be if we can’t even help find our own friend. But we’re here now and we’re ready to help in any way we can.”

Bakugo’s nerves were already too fried to even start to argue with Midoriya. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, knowing otherwise he was going to blow the building up. When he opened his eyes though, Hawks was gone. “WHAT THE FUCK?! WHERE DID THE CHICKEN SHIT GO?!”

**********************************************************************

Tags :

@tspice283 , @realityisoftendisapointing , @imbi-101 , @thoughtfulpandazine2, @hotarumorikawa , @huh-iwasntpayingattention , @starfishlovingbnha , @weebnumber3622 , @mixedfeeelings , @munchmunch01 , @inumorph@xxoperatexx @runrabbitrun3 @insane-without-delirium

[offtopicoverload]

Get Lucky

so i totally forgot about this request from @renluthor for like. two months, terribly sorry, but i finally finished it lmao. bit different than what we had discussed, but i had a lot of fun with it and think it turned out decent enough, hope you enjoy it also idk how to tag on ao3, i hope this works fine

M Rating (still suck at rating, there's drinking and kissing so)

Zoey x MC (Bea)

~1700 words (still pretty short since i cant seem to get my word count up rn but im also not that fussed)

Read on Ao3

-

Bea Hughes stands in the middle of Belvoire’s quad on her first day at the school, staring down a snarling beast, some bitch named Poppy that’s really starting to get on her nerves. “You know what, Poppy?” she snarks, “I’m really going to enjoy tearing you down. Something tells me nobody likes you half as much as you like yourself.” She pauses, glancing around before her gaze lands on some frat bro, “Michael, how often does Poppy call you an idiot?”

He frowns, face downcast, “Every day. My therapist says it isn’t good to surround myself with people who bring me down, but my parents are friends with Poppy’s and -”

“Oh my god, nobody asked to be invited to your pity party, Michael!” Poppy shouts, effectively cutting him off with a stamp of her foot.

Bea’s scowl grows, “You know what nobody asked to be invited to? Poppy’s Daily Bitch-Fest. Death by migraine would be more pleasant.”

“Oh, you haven’t even seen Poppy’s Daily Bitch-Fest,” her eyes narrow at Bea dangerously, “But if you’d like a demonstration, by all means, be my guest of -”

“Hey Bea! Look at the time, we gotta go!” Someone takes hold of Bea’s wrist, tugging her along and away from the crowd, from Michael, and from Poppy and her glare. She’s pulled into a sprint across the lawn, running wildly until they’re inside a dorm and standing before some door.

“Wish the circumstances were different, but welcome to the Winfrey dorm complex, aka your new home!” The girl lets Bea’s wrist drop back to her side, gesturing widely with one hand as she fumbles to unlock the door with the other.

She finally succeeds, throwing the door open and ushering Bea inside, the door slamming shut behind them. Bea’s eyes immediately rove over the expensive decor and nice furniture of the huge dorm she’s somehow stumbled upon.

The girl collapses on a couch, kicking her feet up as she looks over to Bea, “So, you got out of that one alive. Barely,” she adds under her breath. “How are you feeling?”

Bea follows suit, slumping down on the opposite side, toying with the hem of her shirt distractedly. “Honestly, you’re gorgeous,” she shrugs, watching the fabric slide between her fingertips. She freezes, slowly glancing to Zoey, “...is what I was thinking, but did I just say it out loud?”

A laugh bursts from Zoey, her head falling back, “You did, and you’re absolutely, positively right. Not to mention easy on the eyes yourself,” she grins, winking at Bea, before sticking her hand out. “I’m Zoey Wade, your roomie,” she shakes Bea’s hand when their palms meet, “This right here is our dorm. Your room’s on the left, mine’s on the right.”

“Okay,” Bea responds abruptly, sinking into the cushions and crossing her arms beneath her chest. “Okay,” she repeats.

Zoey glances over to her, “Are you okay?”

Bea’s eyes flicker to her dark ones, “Yes. Yes, because I got lucky on the roommate front,” she smiles, albeit somewhat forced.

“That you did,” Zoey smiles right back. “In fact, I know the perfect place to get you off campus until the hype dies down.” she jumps to her feet, crossing to the front door before Bea can even react.

She scrambles to her feet, nearly tripping on the corner of the coffee table, “Wait!” Zoey spins as she swings the door open, winking before disappearing down the corner, Bea nearly sprinting to catch up.

---

An hour later, Bea and Zoey are sitting in a dim corner of a Soho speakeasy, soft music and conversation buzzing in the background. Half-drunk Manhattans sit before them, their own voices adding to the soft din of chatter flowing in the space.

“How’d you find this place?” Bea inquires curiously, her eyes scanning the building and its patrons. It’s cozy and warm, the inviting atmosphere a sharp contrast to Belvoire’s intimidating one.

“Connections,” Zoey’s shoulders rise in a nonchalant shrug, unbothered as she scrolls her phone.

“Whose?”

Zoey looks up from her phone, gaze meeting Bea’s as she smirks, “Can’t spill all my secrets on the first day, babe.”

“Why not?” Bea challenges, one eyebrow quirked.

Zoey’s phone is set face down on the table as she looks at Bea mysteriously, smiling secretively, “As sweet as you are, I always need a few cards up my sleeve.”

“How many you got?”

“I’ll never tell,” she winks, in what Bea is quickly learning to be her default.

“I thought the whole point of coming here was to learn more about each other, roomie,” Bea counters pointedly.

Zoey shakes her head, leaning back against the booth, “The point of coming here is avoiding the campus harpy that goes by the name of Poppy.”

“So you don’t want to get to know me? Or let me get to know you?”

“Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll tell you something.”

Bea just her bottom lip out in a pout, her eyes wide and innocent as she blinks up at Zoey. She only smiles coyly in return, drinking her cocktail as Bea deflates, sighing and slumping backwards.

“You are so lucky you’re cute,” Zoey hums from the back of her throat.

Bea grins before schooling her expression into something flirtatious, “I’m hoping I’ll get luckier.”

Zoey laughs at that, just as loud and unrestrained as back in their dorm, “Nice try. At least buy me a drink first.”

“I’ll buy you the whole bar, how about that?”

“I’ll take another Manhattan for now,” Zoey laughs, sinking back into the booth as Bea jumps up, weaving through the speakeasy’s crowd to get back to the bar.

She returns a few minutes later, wiggling the drinks in her hands enticingly with a wide grin on her lips. She slides back into her seat, sipping her own bright coloured cocktail as she looks to Zoey.

“So what made you want to come to Belvoire? Long way from home, right?” Zoey plays with her drink, scraping a cherry off a toothpick with her front teeth.

Bea shrugs, “It’s a good school, and I thought it’d be fun to try something new… But now I’m mixed up in petty drama,” a sigh shifts her shoulders, Zoey stilling her absentminded fidgeting.

“Petty drama, maybe, but you’re making a name for yourself,” she nudges Bea with her elbow. “That’s more than a lot of people can say.”

“So you don’t think I’m totally screwed?”

“Hmm,” one carefully manicured nail taps Zoey’s chin. “I give it ten to one odds,” she finally decides, smiling sweetly across the table.

Bea frowns, a dent forming between her brows as the girl across from her’s smile grows in amusement, “Those aren’t good odds.”

“But there’s still a chance. Look, I know I don’t know you very well, but you seem like the type to pull it off.”

“Seems like you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“And what if I was?”

“I guess I’d wonder if there was a reason for it.”

“Can’t a cute girl be reason enough?”

Bea lets her gaze rake over Zoey suggestively, “I suppose so.”

“See? You’re smart, you’ll be fine,” she encourages. “Probably.”

“Ugh,” with a groan, Bea’s head falls forward, forehead crashing against the table.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Zoey chastises above her, “No moping.”

Bea turns, her cheek pressing into the wood, “What else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re going to dance,” Zoey announces, standing with her palms flat on the tabletop. She cocks her head at Bea expectantly, sauntering out to the dancefloor when Bea takes the hint, popping up and chasing behind her.

The dance floor's more crowded than anywhere else, couples and friend groups moving in unison to the beat thundering through the air. Zoey whirls around, dancing to the peppy song currently playing until Bea’s joined her, swinging her hips and throwing her arms about carelessly.

The song’s change, the crowd moves as one, and the pair spin and jump and whirl, Zoey taking Bea’s hands and twirling her until she’s laughing and dizzy. Time ticks past until they’re both breathless and sweaty, leaning against one another for support.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” Zoey chuckles, her breath brushing Bea’s cheek, goosebumps breaking across her skin.

A grin breaks Bea’s lips too, relaxed and somewhat tired, “Right back atcha.”

Zoey throws her arm over Bea’s shoulders, fingers knitting behind her neck as she looks down at the shorter girl, her messy hair and gleaming eyes, her smudged lipstick and shining teeth. One hand retracts, the pad of her thumb swiping lightly beneath Bea’s lips, cleaning up the mess on her skin.

Bea’s breath hitches, her eyes widening in the dim lighting of the speakeasy, glued to Zoey’s dark ones as they shift over parted lips. “Hey, Bea?” she whispers, thumb still ghosting over Bea’s skin.

“Yeah?” she whispers back, the exhale skimming Zoey’s skin now.

“Are you still trying to get lucky?”

“God yes,” she groans.

Zoey bends down, letting her lips softly graze Bea’s, just barely making contact. Smudged lips chase hers, Zoey smiling before Bea’s palms are on her cheeks, tugging her downwards, her own thumbs brushing along high cheekbones.

Zoey’s hands find her hips, pulling her closer until they’re bodies fit together, only heat between them under the lights. Zoey nips at Bea’s bottom lip, the shorter girl gasping against her lips, Zoey’s tongue slipping past them.

Time ticks past, the mass of people surrounding them lost in a haze, heat the only thing discernible. The break apart after a short moment, unconsciously swaying to the music together, getting caught up in the rhythm, sucked into the thudding bass.

“We should probably head back to campus,” Zoey murmurs after another song fades out.

Bea’s head lolls to the taller girl’s shoulder, a groan spilling from her throat, “Mm, do we have to?”

A familiar chuckle explodes from Zoey’s chest, “Yeah, maybe you’ll find a four-leaf clover along the way. Get even luckier.”

Bea pulls back, her eyes eager as they meet Zoey’s and the remaining laughter in them. “Okay, let’s go!” she grabs Zoey’s hand on her hip, tugging her through the crowd and out the door, pulling her along this time. Her laughter rings behind Bea as she barrels down the street, New York’s lights illuminating her way.

[simplybakugou]

OKAY I JUST READ YOUR SHORT STORY ABOUT BAKUGO HAVING A QUIRKLESS KID AND CRAZY IDEA BUT WHAT IF MIDORIYA, WHO’S STILL IN TOUCH WITH BAKUGO, WAS LIKE A CLOSE FAMILY FRIEND OR SUM AND GOT ALONG GREAT W KATSUO. idkidk but im sure deku would truly understand how katsuo feels so he’d kinda take him under his wing and “guide” him as he grows up AND MAYBE ONE DAY PASSES ON ONE FOR ALL TO HIM ? CRAZY IDEA BUT IT JUST POPPED INTO MY HEAD WHILE READING IT.

⋆ PAIRING: dad!bakugou x female!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; angst ⋆ WORD COUNT: 6126

A/N: I was already planning on making a part 2 for this but you guys beat me to it! And this is so long, I didn’t mean for it to be so long but so many ideas kept coming to mind lol. This is also my way of contributing to Bakugou’s birthday because I’m too depressed and sad to do anything else for him :) Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy :)

Link to part 1 is here!

✐posted 04.20.2020✐

“You’re all done!” You exclaimed, patting one of your patient’s back as you wrapped up the bandage. “Remember to not put too much pressure or overwork your arm otherwise it won’t heal properly. Please contact the hospital if you have any other abnormal pains.”

The young woman smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Bakugou-san. No wonder you’re so famous!”

You smiled and thanked the woman as she exited the room. Your nursing assistance, Hana, walked into the room, holding her clipboard of all of your appointments in hand. “Hana, do I have any more appointments?”

Hana looked down at the clipboard, shaking her head. “No, you’re clear for the afternoon.”

You nodded, thanking her and pulled your phone out from your pocket as you walked out into the hallway. There were numerous missed calls from Aldera Junior High, Katsuo’s school. A sigh escaped your lips, already knowing that the meaning of the call couldn’t be good. You dialed the phone number and called back.

“Hello, this is the office of Aldera Junior High, how can I help you?” A man’s voice asked from the other line.

“Hi, my name is Bakugou Y/N and I was just calling back after receiving some missed calls from this number.”

“Oh, Bakugou-san! Let me redirect you to Principal Hirai. She will answer your call shortly.” The line was momentarily cut off until you were redirected to the principal’s phone.

“Hello, this Principal Hirai. Is this Bakugou-san?” 

“Yes, it is. Sorry about not answering your previous calls. I had a few appointments to take care of at the hospital here.” You took off your white lab coat and sat down in your office.

“No worries, I understand how busy and hard you work. I called because there was an… incident here.”

You furrowed your brows. “Incident? Is it about Katsuo? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine but he did get into a fight with another student here. His mother is here in my office now and I would like you to come as well. I tried calling your husband but he is currently on duty so that’s why I called you,” Principal Hirai said.

“I understand. I’ll get there as soon as I can.” You hung up, setting your phone down on the table. Your fingertips rubbed small circles into your temples as you could feel a migraine forming. Katsuo, despite being a carbon copy of his father, had your temperament, making him calmer and less aggressive than his father. That was why you were shocked to find out he had gotten into a fight, something that is not in his character. 

You grabbed your coat, phone, and bag, approaching the front desk of the hospital. “Hana, call me if I get any other appointments. I’m taking my lunch break early.”

Hana nodded, waving good-bye to you as you made your way to your car and Aldera Junior High.

***

The doors were light as you pushed open the doors to the main office of the school. A man, most likely the one who you were on the phone with, greeted you. “Bakugou-san? You can take a seat right there. Principal Hirai will be right with you.”

You nodded, looking over to where he was gesturing. In the seats was your son who had a tissue in his right nostril to stop the bleeding as well as a bruise on his right cheek. He looked up at you, his crimson eyes widening at the sight of you. “Mom!”

You sighed, walking over and sitting down next to him. You cupped his face in your hands, examining his face. “You don’t look too beaten up but that bruise will take a few days, maybe weeks, to heal.”

Katsuo looked at you with a puzzled expression. “So… you’re not upset?”

“Of course I’m upset!” You exclaimed. “Why would you get into a fight, Katsuo? It’s not like you to do something like this.”

Katsuo scoffed in a manner similar to Bakugou himself. “That bastard Watanabe is a piece of shit.”

You felt your eye twitch at the sound of your son cursing, normally reprimanding him for doing so but deciding not to now since he seemed so upset. “He was picking on a kid in class for not showing him the answers on the test so I just wanted to tell him off for picking on someone like that. But then he started getting all pissy, talking about me being shitty for not having a quirk and then he…”

Katsuo looked over at you, looking away after his eyes met yours. “Then he what, Suo?”

Katsuo sighed, looking down at his hands. “He started saying that I’m probably quirkless ‘cause ‘my bitch of a mother’s shit quirk was too weak to pass on’ and that it was ‘her fault for making such a fucked up kid.’”

Katsuo looked back up at you, holding your hands in his. “But your quirk is so cool, Mom! No one else thinks it’s shitty or anything! Everyone thinks that you’re amazing for protecting and saving so many people and they all admire you for it! I admire you for it! Even if you aren’t a pro, you’re my hero, Mom.”

You smiled at him, raising your hand up and caressing his blonde hair down. “When did I get such a sweet and caring son? You didn’t have to say anything, Suo, I’m proud of you for sticking up for your classmate.”

He smiled back at you, looking over to see the man at the front desk smiling at the sight of a mother comforting her son. Katsuo blushed, rubbing his neck. “I-It was nothing, Mom.”

The door labelled ‘PRINCIPAL’ in black, bold letters, opened up. Principal Hirai gestured at the two of you to come in and you both got up to enter her office. Inside was an older woman and a young boy, who was even more beat up than Katsuo with a large band aid covering the bridge of his nose as well as a black eye. It seemed like even quirkless Katsuo was capable of showing his strength and protecting himself. Katsuo sat down on the chair next to Watanabe and you sat beside your son.

Principal Hirari sighed, folding her hands together on the desk. “Thank you both for being able to come here today, especially you, Y/N, with your busy schedule.”

The mother scoffed, crossing her arms. “What? Being a little doctor means she gets more praise than me?”

“No, not at all, Aiko. But let me get to why I had you come here in the first place. From what I’ve heard from Mashiho, he was minding his business when Katsuo came over and kept initiating a fight. Then he punched his face, forcing Mashiho to have to fight back.”

Katsuo stood up from his seat, eyes widened and teeth clenched together in anger. “You liar! You threw the first punch! And you were the one who kept picking on Asahi!”

Watanabe rolled his eyes at him. “I didn’t do any of that, Principal Hirai. Who are you going to believe: the kid with respectable parents or the brat with a sad excuse of a father who uses his aggressive behavior to call himself a hero?”

Katsuo grabbed Watanabe by the collar, pulling him up to his feet. “I dare you to say that again, you fucking piece of shit.”

You stood up, pulling Katsuo back and making him sit back down. “That’s enough, boys. I’ve heard enough,” Principal Hirai said.

Aiko began comforting her son in her arms. “Oh, my poor baby! Hirai, as you can clearly see, that barbaric kid is the one responsible for all of this! But you can’t blame the kid for being like that, since his parents can barely take care of one kid, let alone two. I mean how many times has that behemoth of a hero caused damage to the press. He’s better off being a villain than a hero if you ask me.”

Your hands clenched into fists. “Good thing no one was asking you, ‘cause the next time you even think about insulting my son or my husband in front of me will be your last.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Principal Hirai commanded. “It’s clear to me what happened.”

“Good, so I’m glad that that brat will be taken care of,” Aiko huffed.

“No, the exact opposite will be happening,” Principal Hirai said, eyeing Aiko. She looked over at Katsuo, smiling. “Katsuo has never gotten into this kind of trouble. Nor have I ever gotten complaints about him from the teachers. In fact, they say that he will most likely be the valedictorian for this year’s class. I only expect good things from him and I can see that you and your husband have done an excellent job raising him and Suki, who also is doing well in her classes here. I also want to thank you and your husband for everything you do for the people and so selflessly as well.”

You smiled, bowing your head at her. “Thank you for your kind words and taking care of my kids, too.”

Principal Hirai nodded, her smile disappearing as she looked at Watanabe. “Mashiho, on the other hand has caused more trouble than any other child in this building. There have been numerous cases where he has bothered other students for his benefit. I’m sure that if Katsuo didn’t step up and defend his classmate, Watanabe would have continued this behavior. Therefore, I’ve decided to suspend Watanabe for three weeks.”

Aiko and Watanabe stared at Principal Hirai with wide eyes and they both jumped out of their chairs. “This is outrageous! Look at my baby, look at how beat up he is because of that little shit!”

Principal Hirai looked at Aiko with disgust. “I also advise you, Aiko, to learn some manners as well because I won’t allow any adult to address my students as ‘little shits.’ I won’t be changing my mind. Please leave my office and do not return.”

Aiko, who was enraged, got up and grabbed her purse in one hand and her son in the other as she stormed out the door, cursing as she did so. Katsuo snickered and you nudged his leg to make him stop. Principal Hirai sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I really do apologize for making you come all the way here for such a nuisance. I’m sorry to you, too, Katsuo for having to deal with this.”

Katsuo grinned at her. “It’s nothing. If I’m being honest, I only fought back ‘cause he talked shi– I mean bad about my mom.”

You ruffled his hair, bowing and thanking the principal. “Thank you so much. If it’s alright, I’d like to sign Katsuo out for the rest of the day.”

Principal Hirai nodded. “You can sign Suki out as well as my way of showing my thanks for everything you and Ground Zero do for the world.”

You and Katsuo thanked her once again, going out into the office and having the man at the desk call Suki’s teacher to have her come down. Suki was your daughter, two years younger than Katsuo. Unlike her older brother, she had inherited your healing quirk. The difference was that she inherited Bakugou’s special sweat where she is able to heal using her sweat. Although she still can’t use it to the best of her abilities, she does try and train it as best as she can.

As you signed your children out, Suki opened the doors with a large grin on her face, most likely due to the fact that she got to leave early which was practically every child’s dream. She made a face once she saw her brother’s bruises. “God, what happened to you?”

Katsuo rolled his eyes at his little sister. “I’ll tell you later.”

***

“And then, I used just one drop of my sweat and it healed her paper cut! Isn’t that great, Mom? I’m showing so much progress!” Suki said, her face lit up with excitement as she latched her arm around yours.

Katsuo scoffed. “Aren’t you supposed to be able to do more? You’re in sixth grade now and that’s all you can do?”

You nudged Katsuo’s side. “Progress is still progress. I’m proud of you, Suki.”

Suki grinned at you, sticking her tongue out at her brother. Katsuo flipped her off when you weren’t looking. It was bright outside, the sun beaming down on the three of you as you took your kids out. Although you didn’t want him to get into fights, you were proud of your son for sticking up for his classmate and defending himself even without a quirk. There was no doubt in your mind that he would become a great hero just like his father.

Katsuo extended his arm out in front of the two of you, causing you to stop walking. He pointed down the road. “There’s a bunch of reporters there. If we go down this way, they’ll just ambush us and ask a bunch of questions about Dad.”

You nodded, looking down the street that was a bit dimmer as it wasn’t exposed to the sun’s rays due to the ginormous trees on the sidewalks. “This road looks better. It’ll take us a bit longer to get back to the car but that’s fine.”

“Do you think we’ll run into Dad or another cool hero on the way?” Suki asked excitedly as the three of you began walking down the narrow, desolate road.

“It’s possible, but I’d rather not ‘cause heroes only show up in times of need and that would mean a villain would be here,” you said. 

“Do you think there are people out there that hate Dad?” Katsuo asked.

“I’m sure there are. Just as there are people who love and admire Dad for everything he’s done, there have to be people who despise him for getting in the way,” you stated. Your phone began buzzing in your pocket, looking at it to find an alert from a ‘villain movement app,’ one that notifies you when there is criminal activity in the area. WARNING: Level 5 villain, Gamma, is in the area. Be cautious.

“Gamma? Who’s that?” Suki asked.

“He was a villain that Dad and Uncle Deku faced a few years ago. He got away from police custody but no one’s heard from him since. We should get to the car as fast as we can before anything happens.”

“Too bad I got to you first,” a raspy voice called out from a few feet from behind you.

You felt like something was crawling under your skin as you clenched your hands around your kids’ forearms, turning around slowly to make eye contact with a pair of green beady eyes. 

“Mommy?” Suki called out to you softly. Gamma grinned menacingly at the three of you.

“Kids, run that way as fast as you can and get help from the first person you see,” you said in a low voice.

“What about you, Mom?” Katsuo asked, his voice trembling. Although he had never seen Gamma, obviously, he remembered watching the news feed of his father and Midoriya facing off against Gamma and it was difficult even with their combined strength. 

“Don’t worry about me, and go!” You said, your tone harshening in a way that Katsuo or Suki had never heard.

Suki grabbed her brother’s arm, running in the opposite direction. Katsuo looked behind him, your back faced him and he could see how you were shaking. Gamma took a step forward but you stopped him. “I’m your target, not them.”

Your quirk was in no way suited for combat but you knew you could distract him as much as you could just so that your kids could get away. Gamma grinned even wider. “You think I’ll let those little shits get away?”

Gamma used his quirk to create a solid wall in front of Suki and Katsuo’s path in a similar way that Cementoss’ quirk worked. “Your little husband and that All Might wannabe did this to me!” He pulled down his hood to reveal all of his hair singed off as well as burn markings all over his scalp. “I’m gonna make them feel every ounce of pain I felt.”

Suki began tearing up, clutching onto her older brother as Katsuo held her tightly against him. Gamma smirked. “I’m gonna kill all of you and make that explosion bastard feel so much agony he’s gonna beg me to kill him.”

Gamma moved his arm, his quirk activating to create a branch like substance, wrapping around Suki’s waist. Suki screamed as she was ripped from her brother’s grasp but Katsuo refused to let go of her, holding onto her arms. Although he didn’t have a quirk, he still trained with his father to maintain his physique. Due to Gamma’s strength to have been immensely depleted thanks to Midoriya and Bakugou, Katsuo managed to yank Suki from the cement branch.

Gamma grunted under his breath and you let out a sigh of relief. But it still was far from over. Gamma looked over to Katsuo, snarling at the sight of him. “You look just like him. I think I’ll play around with you until he gets here.”

Your eyes widened, looking back at Katsuo as another cement branch grabbed him this time. “Katsuo!” You and Suki called out in unison.

Suki attempted to pull her brother away like he had done for her but she wasn’t strong enough. The cement branch moved towards Gamma, holding Katsuo up in front of him. Gamma activated another cement branch, grabbing Suki and maneuvering it forward so it would grab you on the way. The substance felt like the side of the road was wrapping against your bare skin as the tiny rocks dug into you. You winced in pain and Suki began crying out.

Gamma laughed maniacally. “You all made it too easy! I expected it from the doctor but not from the brats! I expected at least one of you to have that bastard’s quirk!”

The crowd of reporters heard the commotion from the street over, moving to the source of the sound. With little time, the crowd continued growing as they all watched on, unable to do anything other than watch. 

The cement dug deeper as Gamma tightened its hold around all of you. The silent road was now filled with the sounds of the three of you screaming in agony. You gritted your teeth. “They’re just kids! It should be enough to take your anger out on me, not them! Let them go!”

Gamma shook his head. “I want him to feel as much pain as he can! I don’t give a fuck who gets hurt!” You continued baiting him, angering Gamma even further.

Katsuo grunted, trying to break his arms free or at least move them around. Think, Katsuo, think!

He remembered watching the video of Gamma fighting all those years ago and how he relied on the darkness when using his quirk. It was a long shot, but Katsuo knew he had to do something otherwise his family would be murdered. His fingers snuck into his pocket carefully, pulling out his phone and turning the flashlight on. He shined the light at Gamma’s eyes and Gamma screamed out, his eyes feeling like they were burning. His grip began to weaken and Katsuo broke free from his hold. He continued to shine the light at him as he went over to his mother and sister.

The only way to get them out would be to break the cement. Katsuo didn’t have any tools to do this, having to rely on his fists and the fact that Gamma was weakened by the light to break them free. So Katsuo began punching the cement, his knuckles cracking and bleeding as he pounded relentlessly. 

“Suo!” Suki cried out, tears streaming down her face.

With one final punch, Katsuo broke you and Suki free, falling to the floor. The crowd cheered for Katsuo as you grabbed your son and daughter and ran towards the crowd and away from Gamma. Katsuo continued to shine the light onto Gamma, sighing in relief as he thought they had gotten away.

“Not so fast, you shit!” Gamma yelled, releasing one more cement branch blindly, grabbing Katsuo. He dropped his phone, releasing Gamma from being burned by the light. You moved to grab your son, only to be stopped by the formation of a cement wall, one with numerous net-like holes so that everyone could see what he was about to do.

“All you bastards out there, feast your eyes!” Gamma called out to the crowd. He tightened his grip around Katsuo. Katsuo felt his ribs crack as he let out a blood curdling scream.

“Katsuo!” You called out, covering your mouth as you sobbed. 

Suki fell to the floor beside you, turning around at the crowd. “One of you fucking idiots call for help! He’s gonna kill my brother!”

The crowd flinched at the intensity and vigor of Suki’s voice. One of the reporters had gotten the attention of others around him, and the crowd managed to call over Midoriya who was initially informed about the situation, the perfect person for this. 

“Gamma!” Midoriya called down the road.

Gamma flinched at the sound. “That voice…”

Taking advantage of the diversion and Gamma’s lack of attention, Katsuo pushed his arms out, wriggling his body from Gamma’s clutches. He fell to the floor, groaning in pain. He was broken and bloodied. “Suo!” Suki called out.

Katsuo punched through the wall, managing to break free, falling in front of his mother and sister. He was panting, clutching his side in pain. 

“That damn hero…” Gamma grunted. 

Before Midoriya could make his way through the crowd, Gamma created another branch, one with deadly shards of cement that would surely impale you as he was trying to grab you this time. Katsuo saw this, grabbing his book bag that was strewn on the floor and flinging it at the branch. He threw his body in front of you and Suki.

“Don’t you fucking touch them!” Katsuo screamed, his voice cracking. 

Gamma smirked at him. “Look at you being all brave. Come to think of it, I did hear about Ground Zero having a quirkless son. And you think you can defeat me? You’re just a waste of space!”

“I know that I’m weak!” Katsuo yelled. “I’m quirkless, and I’ll never be as strong as my dad.”

“Suo…” You murmured, holding onto Suki. 

Katsuo looked at Gamma with an intensity in his eyes that matched that of Bakugou’s. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll just let you hurt the ones I love without a fight!”

Gamma scoffed, angered by the child’s tenacity. He created another branch, this time aiming for Katsuo. “It’s over for you, kid!”

“Not while I’m here!” Midoriya called out, finally breaking through the crowd and running full speed at Gamma. “You’ve hurt them enough!”

Gamma flinched as Midoriya used his quirk and landed a devastating punch to Gamma’s large body. His body cracked, weakening his powers immensely. He was already weak due to Midoriya and Bakugou’s efforts all those years ago. 

As Midoriya reprimanded Gamma, Katsuo collapsed to the floor, continuing to clutch his side. You moved to hold him in your arms. “Katsuo, don’t worry I’ll fix you up soon.”

***

“Will he really be okay?” Suki asked, sniffling as she continued to cry.

You smiled softly, caressing her hair. “He’s alright. He has a few broken ribs and broke a few fingers, too. But Katsuo’s the strongest kid I know.”

Suki’s fists shook in her lap as you two sat outside of Katsuo’s room in the hospital. “He’s such an idiot! He should know better than to hurt himself like that!”

You rubbed Suki’s back, leaning your head onto hers. You shivered at the mere thought of Gamma but was assured as the images of Katsuo’s bravery flooded your mind. You knew that he trained with Bakugou since he was a toddler but you had no idea he was so strong, especially without a quirk.

You were broken away from your thoughts as Midoriya walked down the hallway. He smiled as he saw you and Suki. “Are you guys okay?”

You nodded. “Thanks to you, I don’t know what would’ve happened without you, Deku.”

Midoriya smiled sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I was just doing my job! Your son was amazing out there! Speaking of, is he awake?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he wanted a few moments alone to breathe and process what happened so I’m just waiting for Katsuki here.”

“I see. Is it alright if I see him?”

“Go ahead!”

Midoriya smiled at the two of you as he slid the door open, closing it behind him. Katsuo sighed from his bed. “Mom, I said I wanted a few moments alo–”

Katsuo’s eyes widened at Midoriya by the door. “Oh, sorry! I can come back later if you want.”

“No! It’s okay, you can stay!” Katsuo sat up in his bed, wincing slightly. “I actually wanted to thank you for saving us back there.”

Midoriya shook his head, sitting down on the chair beside Katsuo’s bed. “You did so much for your mom and your little sister and I don’t think you understand how you literally saved them. I’m sure if you hadn’t done what you did and protected them in the way that you did, they would have been harmed severely. But you used your own body to protect them.”

Katsuo blushed. Although he was close with Midoriya due to his connection to his father, this was the first time someone other than his parents was commending him for his strength. “I just didn’t want them to get hurt. They’re my family and I think that if I had just done nothing, even though I don’t have a quirk, I would have never forgiven myself if they got hurt.”

Midoriya smiled. “You remind me of myself when I was your age, you know.”

Katsuo’s eyes widened. “What? No way! You’re one of the top heroes, Uncle Deku! You’re as strong as Dad, there’s no way you were like a quirkless loser like me!”

“I was though.” Midoriya paused. “I was quirkless like you.”

Katsuo stared at Midoriya with genuine confusion. Midoriya raised his hands in front of him, showing the numerous scars on his hands. “I was born quirkless but I was given this quirk by someone else. It’s called One For All.”

“You were given your quirk? Is that even possible?”

“This is the only possible way. A long time ago, I met my hero, the past symbol of peace, All Might. He gave me this quirk.”

Katsuo got excited, his eyes shining with excitement. “All Might?! Dad always tells me stories about how cool he was back in the day! And he gave you his quirk? Was that why he retired?”

Midoriya shook his head. “No, you see, that’s not how it works. One For All can be passed down from one person to another and it has been for generations. All Might was given his power by his teacher, too.”

Midoriya looked down at his hands. “I was a quirkless kid just like you when I met him. I thought it was impossible for me to become a hero and so did All Might at first. But then, I tried to save your dad from a villain, even without a quirk, and All Might saw me do it. He saw my drive to save as many people as I could as the perfect thing for the next successor of One For All. So he passed his quirk to me.”

“Dad never told me about that… about the whole villain attacking him.”

Midoriya chuckled. “That sounds like Kacchan. It isn’t something he’s proud of, having to be saved by a quirkless kid. But seeing you throw yourself and do anything to save those that you love, it reminded me of exactly why I wanted to become a hero.”

Katsuo furrowed his brows in confusion at Midoriya. “I like hearing all these stories, but why’re you telling me all this? Isn’t this supposed to be a secret?”

“I’m telling you this because I want to pass down One For All to you.”

Katsuo stared at him with utter disbelief, not believing for a second that he was serious. “Uncle Deku, I really do respect you, but if this is a joke, I think you can stop now.”

Midoriya shook his head. “I’ve never been more serious, Katsuo. Kacchan and Y/N have been telling me how much you’ve wanted to be a hero and I’m sure a lot of people have told you that you wouldn’t be able to be a hero because you’re quirkless. But from one quirkless person to another: you too can become a hero.”

***

Bakugou’s feet moved at a pace that the rest of his body couldn’t keep up with. The moment he heard the news of Gamma attacking his family, he didn’t hesitate to drop everything to rush to your side and make sure all three of you were okay. Midoriya had texted him the location of the hospital and Bakugou cursed under his breath as he had decided to take the stairs to the fifth floor, which was where you were. He even used his quirk to move his body faster, finally reaching the fifth floor.

His crimson eyes scanned the halls and found Suki lying on two chairs outside of a room, you close beside her. You looked up, smiling after seeing your husband. “Katsuki!”

Bakugou didn’t hesitate to hold you in his arms, practically knocking the wind out of you. His calloused hands held you tightly, his head nuzzled into your neck. He was so glad to see that you were alright. Bakugou pulled away, examining your body once more for any external injuries. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Suki and I got away with a few scratches.”

Bakugou’s blonde brows furrowed in worry and concern. “And Suo? What about Katsuo?”

“He has a few broken ribs and fingers. He’ll be okay though.”

“What the fuck happened?”

You smiled at Bakugou. “Katsuo protected us from that villain, Katsu. He did whatever he could to protect us.”

Bakugou stared in silence and relief. He was concerned about his son, slightly aggravated with the fact that he had been so reckless, but he also knew that if Katsuo hadn’t stepped up, you and Suki would’ve been harmed to a degree that Bakugou didn’t even want to imagine.

“He’s in there with Deku if you want to see him.”

Bakugou nodded, moving over to Suki who was fast asleep. He sighed, knowing that she was okay before sliding the door open. Katsuo nor Midoriya heard the door open, Bakugou only seeing the sight of Katsuo in a state of utter shock.

“What the hell did you tell him, Deku?” Bakugou asked, closing the door and leaning against it.

Midoriya flinched at the sudden sound of his voice, turning around to face him. “Oh, Kacchan! I didn’t even hear you come in.”

Midoriya looked back at Katsuo who was looking at his hands, both his hands bandaged up as the aftermath of the day’s events. “Dad, do you think I can be a hero?”

Bakugou sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think what you did today is enough proof that you’re better than half the pros out there. Some of them hesitate to even save people, valuing their life above everything else. But you didn’t even think about that, and even though it was reckless, you’re the reason why Mom and Suki were able to get out of that unscathed.”

Katsuo let out a breathless laugh, his eyes tearing up as he whispered out, “So you think I’m a hero, too?”

“From how shocked you are now, I’m gonna guess and say that this shithead wants to pass down his quirk to you.”

Midoriya and Katsuo looked at Bakugou with shock. “How’d you know, Kacchan?”

Bakugou scoffed. “I wasn’t born yesterday. The moment I heard what happened and how you were there at the last minute, you probably saw that my kid was just like you all those years ago with that fucking sludge monster. And seeing as you’re here and Suo looks like he’s gonna pass out, I figured that’s what you told him.”

Midoriya turned his body around to face Bakugou. “So what do you think?”

“I think that my opinion has nothing to do with this. This is your quirk and it’s your decision for who you want to pass it onto. And it’s up to Katsuo if he wants this.”

Midoriya smiled, looking over at Katsuo. “You see, Katsuo? There are only a few people in my life that know about One For All and All Might and your dad are included. It’s all up to you.”

Katsuo clenched the sheets in his hands. The minute Midoriya had explained his situation, he knew exactly what he wanted. “I’ll do it. I’ll take One For All.”

Midoriya grinned. “Awesome! I knew I could count on you. But, I will say that I can’t pass it onto you for now since I still have so much to do with this quirk. But, I will train you and help your body be prepared for this quirk. I had no muscle training until All Might came into my life but I can see that Kacchan has prepared you well.”

“I–”

The door slid open abruptly, almost making Bakugou fall backwards. You put your hand on his back, pushing him back up. The three boys stared at you in shock and you looked at them in confusion. “What? You guys look like I interrupted a classified meeting.”

Midoriya shook his head vigorously. “N-No! You didn’t interrupt anything!”

“O-kay?” You sighed. “Can you two get out for now? I need to examine Katsuo’s wounds a little more before we can call it a night.”

Midoriya nodded, getting up to leave and sit on the chairs outside of the room. You walked over to Katsuo, sitting on the chair that Midoriya was sitting on. Bakugou unfurled his arms from his chest to his sides. “I’m gonna go talk to Deku.” You nodded and he closed the door behind him.

Bakugou sat down beside Midoriya who seemed to be deep in thought. Bakugou looked over at him. “What, you regretting your decision already?”

Midoriya shook his head rapidly. “No, not at all! I have no doubt that I made the right decision. I’ve just been thinking about when All Might approached me the same way with this quirk.”

He looked down at his hands which had numerous scars. “I want to approach this the right way. All Might was running low on time with One For All and he prepared me as best as he could until the U.A. entrance exams. But I want to make sure that Katsuo’s body will be prepared to the fullest before taking this quirk. You’ve seen it’s backlashes and I don’t want him to have to experience that same pain.”

Bakugou looked over at his daughter, caressing her (H/C) hair. He smiled. “He’s stronger than he looks. He’s my kid after all.”

Midoriya smiled as well. “I figured that much. If he wasn’t strong, he probably wouldn’t have been able to fight Gamma and hold him off as much as he did.”

Bakugou sighed, looking in the opposite direction. “I’m gonna say this once so you better fucking listen up.”

Midoriya looked at him with curious eyes. “Thank you.”

Midoriya became flustered, expecting anything other than a ‘thanks’ from his hot-headed friend. “There’s nothing to thank me for! I didn’t really do anything.”

“You idiot, you’re giving him hope. No matter how strong a person can be, it’s difficult to become a hero without a quirk. I always told Suo that I believed in him and I still do, but I was always worried about what would happen once he faced off with an actual villain.”

Midoriya shook his head. “I didn’t do anything, I’m being honest. He’s always had hope. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to do what he did today. He believed in himself. Besides, I didn’t expect anything else from a Bakugou.”

Bakugou smirked. “Of course, where do you think he got it from?”

Midoriya smiled. “Kacchan, I’m going to make him become an even better hero than you and I. He’s going to be the best hero in existence.”

Bakugou looked over at him. “Damn right he will.”

[talkfastromance4]

A Year in the Making--Posy’s book (Luke&Lily universe)

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: mentions of casual drinking

a/n: Here it is! I had so much fun writing about our latest addition to the Luke&Lily universe with baby Posy. Thank you all so much for loving this family as much as I do, they hold a special place in my heart. I appreciate your feedback and thoughts very much :)

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

Luke&Lily Masterlist

Enjoy! :)

• • • •

It’s the day of Posy’s first birthday (even though the actual day is in two days on Tuesday) the birthday girl is currently down for her midmorning nap and you’re looking through her baby book. You’ve been very reminiscent the past couple days leading up to your baby girl’s birthday and couldn’t think of a better way to walk down memory lane by pulling out her pale pink book with gold bunnies on the cover.

The first page listed her name, birth date, size, weight and time of her birth followed by an inked hand and footprint. Her hospital bracelet is taped along the bottom as well. On the next page are pictures of your growing bump that sprouted into your precious little Posy.

You still remember the day you discovered you were pregnant. You were at work and it was only midday, you’d had a migraine all morning then while you were organizing papers you turned quickly to your trash can and got sick. With a sigh, you thought you’d feel better, but the nausea still lingered.

As you walked to the breakroom to get a fresh glass of cold water, stomach still rolling, you stopped in your tracks. This was how your pregnancy with Lily started, intense migraines, throwing up and just thinking of it, your breasts felt especially tender. After taking a drink of your water you decided to get a few pregnancy tests on your way home from work. Luke would be picking Lily up from preschool, so you’d have plenty of time to stop at the pharmacy and take the tests.

Several hours later, you were staring at two blue lines on three pregnancy sticks. You were filled with elation and pure joy that there was a new life forming that was one-part you and one-part Luke. You hadn’t been trying or even discussed having a baby, but you felt right and knew Luke would be equally as happy.

You turn the page, flipping through the first twelve months of Posy’s milestones.

One month:

-Whenever there’s music playing, Posy constantly moves her head from side to side as if she’s dancing along to the beat. She sleeps fairly well throughout the night

-She loves staring at the fans and zeroes in on our faces when mama and dada are talking to her. Starting to recognize Lily’s voice who loves to sing to her throughout the day

-Dada loves staring at his girl, he enjoys laying Posy on his chest, tapping his fingers up and down Posy’s back. That’s when she sleeps the best

There’s a photo of Posy resting on Luke’s bare chest, her little lips pursed and her hand in a tiny fist. You remember this day when you took the photo; Posy wouldn’t stop crying until Luke took her from your arms after coming in from a quick jog. Feeling the warmth of his chest made her instantly relax and pair it with his singing voice, she calmed down in moments and fell right to sleep.

Two months:

-Posy is very wiggly! Starts wiggling when one of us enters her room in the morning or after a nap

-She always smiles when Lily talks/sings to her

-Dada loves playing peek-a-boo with Posy even though she doesn’t understand it all too well. She gives him a gummy smile whenever he kisses her fists

-Posy Mae is such a smiley girl when mama has some one on one time with her, it’s our little secret when mama sings to her

The best way to get her down for a nap is by rocking her in her chair and singing softly in her ear. That’s when you spend your time with her and sing a song your own mother sang to you when you were younger. Luke was the singer in the family but for Posy and Lily? You have no problem singing for them because they won’t judge your voice.

One day while you were doing just that, and Luke caught you. He was walking by to get a snack for Lily when he heard you quietly singing in Posy’s room. When he peeked around the corner he saw Posy snuggled into your arms, you with your eyes closed and singing a very calming lullaby to her. He’s only heard you sing a handful of times and each time you stopped in embarrassment but now he listened with such attention and love in his heart.

Three months:

-Posy is a very giggly girl! First time she giggled was when dada was talking to her in a very thick Australian accent. Uncle Ashton is prone to making her giggle as well by pretending to eat her toes

-When upset, Posy loves to be comforted by both mama and dada.

-Posy loves tummy time and can lift her head up all by herself! Lily and Petunia enjoy doing tummy time with her as well and plays with her musical toys. Her own babble has started, and Lily loves to talk with her, telling her stories

Four months:

-Uncle Ashton was over and while Posy was sitting in his lap she reached for a chip he had in his hand before he could snag it back she popped it in her mouth. She made a face at the salty flavor and Ashton laughed which caused her to giggle with him. Loves Uncle Ash and that’s the first time he’s made her laugh

-While on tummy time, Posy rolled over onto her back to grab Petunia’s paw. Lily witnessed it and shouted at us “Mama! Dada! Look at Po!”

The photo you have is of Lily and Posy snuggled up on the fluffy blanket in the living room. Posy is smiling wide at the camera, and Posy’s hair is getting longer and curlier, her dimple more prominent. Her personality was really starting to show at this time. She’s grabbing more things and loves playing with Luke’s phone or his necklaces.

She’s still such a cuddle bug with Luke, always snuggling with him when he gets home from the studio and that’s how her nickname of love bug.

Five months:

Here’s a photo of Calum, Lily and Posy when he babysat for you and Luke so you could have a date night. Posy was worked up the whole time while you and Luke were away. Lily kept trying to help Cal calm her down, but Posy is fussy and throws whatever Lily tried to give her.

“Mama and dada sing to her,” Lily told him with her ears covered.

“What do mama and dada sing to her?” Calum asked while bouncing her in his arms.

“Frozen or million dreams,” Lily told him then ran away to Posy’s room. Calum huffed and continued to walk around the living room with Posy, singing what he remembered of Frozen songs when Lily returned with Posy’s elephant.

“Thanks, Lils,” Calum smiled and handed it to Posy. “Come on bug, please stop crying for Uncle Cal.”

Not long after, you and Luke returned looking glittery-eyed from your date.

“What have you done to our baby?” Luke asked tugging you in by your hand. Upon hearing his voice, Posy lifted her wailing head from Calum’s shoulder and zeroed in on Luke, she reached for him instantly. “C’mere, Posy girl,” he coos taking his daughter from his best friend’s arms. “What’s got you so upset, hm?”

“I hope she wasn’t like this for you all night,” you told Calum while Lily hugged your waist. “You should be in bed little missy.”

“Po hurt my ears, mama,” Lily pouted, and you gave Calum an apologetic look.

“She was—how did you get her to sleep?!” Calum asked dumbfounded when he sees Posy snoozing away on Luke’s shoulder.

“I’m her dad,” Luke smiled kissing the top of her curls.

Six/seven months:

-When Posy girl is excited she starts to scream and babble, usually when Lily does something or they’re playing

-She loves being by Uncle Ash because he always takes her on little “adventures” which is just walking around the backyard of anyone’s house. (photo of them sleeping on his hammock)

-She can sit on her own, puts anything and everything in her reach into her mouth, loves to “dance” on dada’s legs while he holds her up

-Loves playing peek-a-boo with Lily and Ashton

-Tries to imitate dada when he’s singing his head voice around the house and dada always picks her up so they can sing together

At Christmas time she loves playing with the wrapping paper and enjoys the excitement of seeing her whole family in one day. She and Lily wear matching dresses and Lily is a big help in opening her younger sister’s presents.

Eight months:

-Posy crawls like lightning now, gets into everything and we have had to put Petunia’s food bowl up. Dada found Posy playing in it and was just about to shove the food into her mouth when he caught her

-Responds to her name (Posy and Po)

-Uncle Ashton introduced her to his drumsticks and she discovered the game of dropping them on the floor just so he can pick them up and hand them to her

Nine months:

-Posy has learned to wave ‘buh-bye’ to everyone she sees, does it to Lily when dropping her off at Cory’s. Dada taught her that, so he always waves ‘buh-bye’ to her

-Discovered her reflection while looking in mama’s mirror. Posy crawled super-fast to the mirror and smacked the reflection, shrieking in excitement pointing to herself

Ten/eleven months:

-Pulls herself up on her own and dances against the couch while Lily twirls around her when they’re watching Frozen or Moana. When the uncles are over, she stands by each one then motions ‘up’ for them to cuddle her until she gets bored and slips down to move onto the next one. (Still seems to favor Uncle Ash because he “gives the best cuddles”)

-Her curls are getting curlier and a little longer, looks more like her dada every day and loves to walk with his fingers holding onto her hands. Becoming a little daredevil by trying to climb on things

On this page is a collection of photos of Posy and Lily together. They’re snuggling on your bed, dressed in pretty dresses with flowers in their hair from a small photoshoot with Andy and Sarah. Even though Posy is eleven months old, she and Lily are becoming friends and great sisters.

One year

You got to the last page of her book with scrawling letters in the bottom reading “one year old” and a space above it to place a photo when Luke entered your room.

“Hey lovie, people are starting to arrive,” he announces then sits next to you on the bed. “What’re you looking at?”

“Posy’s baby book,” you smile flipping through the pages. “I can’t believe it’s been a year already.”

“I know, I don’t want her to get any bigger,” Luke chuckles perusing through the book himself. “You make the most beautiful babies, you know that? Look at you right from the start when you were showing. I loved your little bump.”

You rest your cheek on his shoulder watching him flip through the pages you’ve already seen again, sighing. He stops on some pages to read what you’ve written down.

“They’re both getting so big,” you mumble sadly.

“And they get more beautiful every day,” he turns his head so he can kiss your forehead, “just like their mama.”

You smile at his compliments, feeling your cheeks warm as you incline your head to kiss his lips.

“Thank you. Is Pose up?”

“I heard her talking to herself when I walked by, figured I’d give her a couple minutes to wake up. We should get her though, Ashton’s arrived.”

“Let’s go get our baby,” you sigh setting her baby book on your bed. Luke pulls you up by your hands, gives you a tender kiss and pulls you from the room.

You hear distant chatter downstairs, Lily’s, Ashton’s and Calum’s combined. When you push open the door Posy is standing in her crib then beams a bright smile to you and Luke.

“Hi Posy girl!” you greet her happily.

“Mum! Daa!” she shrieks, her little arms reaching for you as you pull her from the crib.

“Hi, love bug,” Luke smiles at her and kisses her cheek. “Did you have a good nap?”

She babbles in response while you lay her down on the changing table and Luke gets her little swimsuit that resembles a ladybug. It was a warm day, so you decided to have a pool day in celebration of her first birthday. After slipping on her swim diaper, the two of you get her in her suit and Luke puts sunscreen on her face, arms and legs.

“Are you ready to party, my girl?” Luke lifts her up and tickles her belly then gives her multiple kisses. “Uncle Ash is downstairs waiting for you.” Posy starts wiggling upon hearing her uncle’s name and you and Luke head downstairs.

“There’s the birthday girl!” Calum shouts while Lily is twirling around him holding onto his fingers. She has on her own swimsuit that’s pink with ruffles on the butt.

“Let me have a look at my little one,” Ashton grins stepping forward. He has on a sun hat with strings hanging in front and Posy wriggles out of Luke’s arms into her uncle’s. She starts playing with his strings. “Do you know how old you are today? You’re this many—” he holds up one finger “—that’s small, just like you.”

“Can we go swimming now!” Lily asks tilting her head up at him.

“Yeah we can, the birthday girl is here,” he grins down at her and lets her pull him outside into the back.

Shortly after, Luke’s parent’s and brothers came by and so did Cory and Ella with Michael and Crystal coming in last with Southy and Moose, plenty of gifts in hand for Posy. The pool was filled with laughter and games. You and Luke watched from the patio as Posy floated between all of her uncles and Cory who loved to tickle her.

After dinnertime you all sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Posy who then proceeded to smear cake on her face and into her hair. Many photos and videos were taken at the inevitable mess she made, her smile big and wide as she held her cake filled hand out to Luke who came in for a kiss to her cheek. He had some cake on his face in aftermath that you happily kissed off him.

“Just like our wedding day, yeah?” he winks at you giving your butt cheek a squeeze.

You and Luke relax under the umbrella watching your family happily in the pool. Posy and Lily are having a wonderful time and Michael joins the two of you with a beer in his hand.

“Why aren’t you in the pool?” you ask him while playing with Luke’s curls.

“Could ask you two the same question,” he smirks eyeing Luke’s hand on your thigh.

“When everyone’s over we like to sit back and watch our girls have fun,” Luke laughs.

“Are you having fun?” you ask him, he seems a little off to you.

“I always have fun with Lily and Pose, but I just get to watch mostly as well.”

“What—”

“Unca Mike! Look what Moosey had! I saved her,” Lily proclaims suddenly running to him. She climbs onto his lap with a large rock.

“Ah thank you, Lils. She shouldn’t be eating rocks,” he takes it from her then places it on the table. He pokes her cheeks and she giggles then you notice water dripping onto the concrete.

“Lily, you’re getting Uncle Michael wet from your suit,” you lean forward trying to get her off his lap.

“I don’t mind, she’s cooling me off,” Michael smiles and she giggles. She traces the tattoos on his arms, she’s always fascinated by her uncles’ tattoos. “Hey Lils, wouldn’t you like to have a baby brother someday?”

You and Luke exchange a look at this question, what spurred this on?

“Like Roman at school?”

Lily had become quite close with a little boy named Roman at pre-k who had dark curls and bright green eyes. His little brother, Levi, is the same age as Posy.

“Yeah, just like Roman,” he nods.

“Mmm…” Lily taps her chin, eyes squinted up at Michael in thought. This is a habit she’s started doing lately when she thinks. “Okay! I’d like a baby brother!”

Michael turns to you and Luke with a big smile, you glance to Luke whose mouth is open in surprise and at the quick turn of events.

“Why don’t you go by Uncle Cal, sweets,” Luke says pointing to him in the pool. “I think he’s looking for you.”

“Okay!” she gives Michael a quick kiss on the cheek then slips off his lap.

“Mike, what—where did this come from?” Luke splutters.

“I’m sorry, I was only half joking,” he rubs at his eyes. “I love your girls, so much, but Cal and Ash are their favorites. And don’t try to tell me otherwise, I know they love me but not as much as them. I dunno…it would be cool if you had a boy that I could get along with, y’know?”

Your heart sank. You do know Lily and Posy gravitate to Calum and Ashton, but their personalities are very similar, so it was no surprise how well they got along. Has Michael felt like this for a long time?

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” you rub at his shoulder. “They do love you just as much as they love Cal and Ash. You always let them try and play your video games and the love when you play some of your remixes because they get to dance to Uncle Mike’s music.”

Michael smiles at that.

“I know they do; I just get a little jealous sometimes that they don’t come to me all the time.”

“I know what you mean,” Luke says. “When mum’s around it’s like we’re chopped liver. But back to the baby brother thing…we haven’t really discussed that or crossed our minds. At least for me it hasn’t…has it for you, lovie?”

“Uh, no, not really. Posy is only turning one but I…” you look to Lily and Posy. Lily just jumped into Cory’s arms with Cal creeping up on her while Posy is playing a form of pattycake with Ashton in her yellow duckie floatie. “I mean, I’ve always wanted three kids.”

“Honestly, you guys, it was just a joke,” Michael shakes his head. “I’m glad I get to be Lily and Posy’s uncles and watch them grow up.”

The rest of the night lingered on until it was time for Posy and Lily to go to bed. When everyone left you and Luke settled on the couch cuddled together with some movie playing in the background. Michael’s words have been playing in your head the rest of the day and has really got you thinking.

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“You really haven’t thought about having another baby?” you ask quietly.

He turns the volume down a little then turns to you, he rests his arm on the back of the couch. His blue eyes search your face before his finger smooths the crease between your brows.

“Of course, I have, just not so soon after Posy, that’s all.”

“Do you want to discuss it now or wait a few years…?”

“We can discuss it now if you want,” he nods, a smile ghosting his lips.

“I mean…” you twist yourself so you’re facing him, you bring your fingers to his necklace that’s peeking out from his tank top. “I wouldn’t mind trying…”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles as your fingers continue down his chest, his eyes flicker back to yours.

You bite your lip, “yeah.”

“So, we’re officially trying for another baby?” he asks spreading your legs apart.

You fall back against the couch pulling him with you.

“If you want to,” you sigh tugging his tank top up and off.

“Let’s try and try and try…” he whispers inching closer until his lips are on yours.

• • • •

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Luke and Lily taglist: @harrysfavslut​

[eirabach]

Taking Chances [1/1]

For @janetm74 and @badthingshappenbingo! Scott + Alan and ‘More Expendable than You’

This is the danger.

This has always been the danger.

Scott’s up here, and Alan’s down there and really, John ought to know.

It isn’t like he wouldn’t do it too.

There’s a hole in the ground and a hole in Scott’s belly where he thinks, he thinks, he used to keep his stomach but it dropped right out oh, about ten minutes ago, and now it’s burning up in the lava flow right about where Pod B is creeping its way toward – well. Hell, by all accounts. 

All accounts except John’s, anyway. 

John has other words for it. Long, scientific ones. Like pyroclastic and rates of descent and – 

And it’s possible Scott stopped listening somewhere between watching his youngest brother clamber up the side of a rumbling volcano and the thunder that followed, and now there’s ash billowing from one hole and bile from the other and he doesn’t really have time for this. At all.

“Say again, Thunderbird One?”

“You heard me, John.”

“I heard someone suggest something unutterably stupid. Are you sure you don’t want to try again? That ash cloud isn’t staying up there all day, Scott, and you do not want to be under it when it drops.”

“I can beat it.” There’s the John equivalent of a long, pregnant pause. “I can.”

“You can’t just demand – that isn’t how physics –”

“I don’t give a damn about physics, John!”

A voice pipes up from the smoking, burning fields below. “Uh, do I get a say in this?”

“No!”

“No.”

“Right.” Alan sighs, “I mean I am the one on the ground so –”

“Shut up, Alan.”

“Hold your position, Pod Explorer. Scott –”

But Scott’s done with listening, already out of his seat, helmet on, jet pack primed. He sets Thunderbird One to hover outside of the range of the ash cloud, and kicks at the emergency egress button. 

“Save it,” he says, and jumps.

And it works – at first. He roars down toward the little yellow dot below, boosters at full power, and honestly John worries way too much about all the wrong things. Scott’s got this and then he’s gonna get Alan and then –

Ah. And then. The wind changes, ash blinding him as it sticks to his visor, settles heavy on his shoulders. Makes his jet pack whine and stutter and –

He hits the ground with a grunt, not quite hard enough to really hurt, but enough to wind him, the jetpack taking most of the impact anyway. Which is just as well, really, because as he sits up – gingerly, not that he’d admit it – he realises, oh.

“Uh, John –” The piece of land he’s landed on is maybe ten feet square, the edges crumbling into a bubbling, stinking lake of fire. “I may have a situation.”

Even through the sound of the ground cracking around him, the sputtering of the lava around his little island, the howl of the dying volcano, he hears the sigh – “Alright. You asked for it.”

—

On the other side of the volcano, Two is ferrying the unlucky denizens of the closest campground to safety and Virgil – Virgil sounds pissed.

“EVA. Under an ash cloud that’s gonna drop blocks of rock the size of Four on your head. Of course, why wouldn’t you?” Alan’s pretty sure he can hear a migraine forming just from the tone of Virgil’s voice. “How long?”

“Under current atmospheric conditions? Less than three minutes.”

“2.5074,” Eos pipes up cheerfully. “And counting.”

“I can’t – I have fifty people to get to safety here Scott!”

“I know, I don’t expect –”

“No? Now we’ve gotta worry about you as well!”

“No one needs to worry about me!”

“Oh well that’s okay then, hope you’ve got your best boots on.” And then there’s Gordon, sticking his oar in. “Since you’re gonna be tap dancing your way to a fiery doom.“

"Right this moment I’d pay to see that.”

“I can hear you you know.”

“Oh it’s just selective hearing loss then?”

Alan drops his head to the dash with a metallic thud. 

“Uh, you ok?” His rescuee looks pretty uncomfortable squeezed into the back of the pod. Listening to International Rescue bickering is probably not helping.

“I’m really sorry about this.“

"Hey, no. I got a brother. I get it.”

Alan hits his baldric with a grimace. “Thunderbird One hold your position.”

“Ala –”

“Do as you’re told for once Scott.”

He has no idea if the answering silence is due to shock or muting, and he doesn’t honestly much care.

His fingers tighten around the Pod’s controls. He could – he ought to – ask John what to do next, but John’s kinda got a lot going on right now with the whole ‘evacuate an entire county while simultaneously dressing Scott down to the size of a newt’ thing. But the clock is ticking and the hiker in the back is sweating and – 

And this is his goddamn job, isn’t it?

Pod B makes its delicate way over the cracked crust of the lava flow, and Alan keeps his eyes fixed on the route ahead – on Scott – instead of the billowing threat 200 yards away.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He grits his teeth, counts down from ten. “Rescuing an idiot.” Then, because he feels like it. “Duh.”

Already Alan can see the rock beneath Scott shifting with the currents, and they’re slow enough now but that cloud’s coming down and Scott’s gonna be – 

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Alan extends the Pod’s legs and sends up a swift, silent prayer that Brains’ heat proofing stands the test. “I’ll be one minute and then we can –”

“Alan, no. Back off.”

Pod B pauses, one spindly toe dipped into the lava field between Alan and Scott. “Say what now? Look Scott, I dunno where you were during third grade history but lemme tell you what happened to the people in Pompeii cause it was –”

“Get out of here, and that’s an order.”

“You gotta be –” Alan’s denial is cut short, a block of volcanic matter as tall as the Pod and twice as wide slamming into the unstable ground to his right. The hiker whimpers. “Oh man! Okay. okay!” He sets the Pod skipping through the pools, smoke and steam obscuring much of what’s in front of him until Scott’s just a vague blueish blur. “Get ready to jump on cause uh, I ain’t gonna have time to roll out the red carpet or anything –”

“I said, leave.”

“Nuh huh, not happening, hang on just two more seconds –”

“Alan!”

He skids to a halt at the edge of Scott’s little island and shoves the door open.

“Come on, come on, come on!”

Scott – Scott backs off. Alan gapes at him.

“What are you –”

“I said go!”

“And leave you to roast? What, like you’re expendable now?”

“Well – well maybe I’m just more expendable than you.”

It hits him harder than any pyroclastic flow ever could. His heart skips a beat, six, starts up only to try and climb out his throat and god, he might actually be sick. He might just straight up vomit his entire heart out onto the floor ‘cause that only sounds over dramatic but what Scott’s threatening – what Scott’s doing –

Alan narrows his eyes. Wills his heart to stop trying to beat its way through his chestplate.

“I have never heard anything so stupid in all my life. Get in. Or I’m getting out.”

They stare at each other. Somewhere in the back of his mind Alan faintly recognises the sound of his hiker having a panic attack. He thinks it’s the hiker. Maybe it’s him. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that Scott’s still just standing there and their two minutes is up and –

Gordon’s voice is grim, serious, and man there is gonna be one awkward family dinner tonight.

“Alan, grab him. By the balls if necessary.”

Alan does as he’s told. Scott’s almost twice his size and weighed down by a jetpack but he hardly even notices, dragging him up through the hatch and launching him in the direction of the definitely semi hysterical hiker. Two’s grappling hooks hit them at the same moment Scott lands half in the poor guy’s lap, and Alan points a shaking finger at him as he tries to stagger to his feet against the sway of the Pod.

“Stay there. Say nothing.”

They rise towards Two’s belly in a perfect, awkward silence that’s broken only by the clang of the pod doors opening and the shuddering breaths of the unfortunate hiker.

Alan docks the Pod with far more force than is really necessary. Scott grapples to keep his footing again, and a little dark part of Alan thinks serves you right. The hiker clears his throat.

“Uh – thank you. I um – I can get out now, right?”

Alan grunts, and pulls the lever for the exit. The hiker skitters down the ladder and disappears into the vastness of Two’s belly. He’ll probably get lost there, too. Alan will have to remind Virgil to drop him off. Somewhere. Whatever. His hands are shaking and his face feels hot and Scott’s looking at him all oh no what’s the matter like he doesn’t know. Like he’s forgotten.

“Alan, I really – I don’t understand what you’re so upset about?”

“You think it’s a compliment? So – so what? I’m the youngest, I’m the baby so fuck the rest of you right?”

“Alan!”

“Oh my – I’ve got ears, you know! Ears and – and feelings and I don’t think I ought to be all touched that you apparently think the best thing for me is to leave me on my own.”

“That isn’t what I meant –”

“No.” He spins round, face hot and fists tight. “No, but it’s what you did. What you do. And you – one day you might actually – and I have to live with that? No.” He shakes his head, wills the furious burn to stay behind his eyelids. He won’t cry. He won’t. “Never. Don’t you dare.”

Scott blinks at him.

“Sorry,” he says, and it’s all cool and calm and ugh. “But if it comes down to you or me –”

“What about me or Virgil? Or John, or Gordon? Huh?” Alan takes two steps forward and jabs his finger into Scott’s chest. Scott stares down at it, nonplussed. “What, do you rank us?”

“No! No of course not!”

“So what is it then, huh? Cause I dunno if you’ve noticed but by the rules of the universe you can only die for one of us. Once.” And dammit, dammit his breath is coming in stutters and his eyes are leaking and – “I lost dad, I don’t remember mom, I don’t – I can’t –”

And Scott wraps his arms around him and squeezes, tight. 

“I’m sorry I frightened you, kid.”

Alan groans into Scott’s dusty flight suit. “I wasn’t scared. And I’m not a kid.”

“Uh huh.”

The steady rise and fall of his brother’s chest helps him to regulate his own breathing, the thud of Scott’s heartbeat a steadying force as he risks looking up. 

He doesn’t have to look up quite as far as he used to. Not quite.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” he says. “You won’t be able to try it again.”

Scott’s eyebrows tick up.

“No? You gonna stay home next time?”

“Not likely,” he sniffs. “John’s gonna kill you, you know.”

“With you around to rescue me?” And Scott’s smiling, hand in Alan’s hair, and he lets himself smile back because – because this is what matters, isn’t it. This is what isn’t, won’t, can’t ever be expendable. “I’ll take my chances.”

[gh0stiegirlie]

synopsis: all it took was one glance at the hotheaded boy at the U.A. exam, and you were smitten. for deku, it was a single act of kindness that instigated his immediate attraction to uraraka. several months into school, best friends y/n and deku are left heartbroken when. uraraka and bakugou start a relationship. when you and deku find yourselves confiding in each other, a question arises; is this love, or loneliness? are you two better just as friends?

length: 4k words

a/n: i editted this shit to the gods, man. i hope you all enjoy! also, i can describe this chapter in one word: angst, angst, and more angst.

<- pt. 1                                                                                                 pt.3 ->

Across the campus, Bakugou and Uraraka experience a similar feeling.

It’s their first night together, and they’re spending it cuddling in Urarakas room. As much as Bakugou enjoys her physical praises, from the way she gently traces her fingers along the curves of his biceps to how she nuzzles against his chest for his warmth; her soft, delicate form feels foreign in his arms. 

Most girls love the protection of their boyfriends’ embrace, but Uraraka feels suffocated. Yet here she is, wrapped up like the perfect little present in Bakugou’s arms.

With the weeks that pass, the couples irritations and questions only grow.

You and Izuku hold hands, loosely. You only hold hands for the experience of touching another, and to perpetuate the class consciences that you are the “most wholesome couple in all U.A.”

Although your thoughts are far from 'wholesome'. You feel guilty of a heinous crime, though you're roaming free. Because here you are, hugging, cuddling, kissing Izuku, but thinking about Bakugou. And here’s Izuku buying you lunch, dropping you off at class and occasionally carrying your books around campus, wishing you were Uraraka.

Uraraka experiences persistent headaches because of Bakugous yelling. All he does is talk about being a hero, or complain about Deku. Everything is fucking Deku Deku Deku. In her head, Izuku clouds Bakugou. Her thoughts of Deku encompass her mind even when she’s with Bakugou. Every time she passes you and Izuku tenderly holding hands in the hall, her heart tightens. While Bakugou tugs her around like a dog on a leash, Deku grasps you with all the pride in the world, a radiant smile on his face. Two things about Bakugou; He never discloses his emotions, and he's never gentle.

Bakugou spends all his days avoiding landmines. Uraraka is so fragile, he's afraid one day he’ll squeeze her hand so tight she’ll shatter. Anything and everything he does either offends, hurts, embarrasses, or irritates her. He’s going crazy with all the rules and expectations Uraraka forces him to meet. He’s like putty in her hands, and she’s trying to mold him into a different person.

Uraraka only enjoys being with Bakugou when they’re taking out their frustrations through make-out sessions.

Y/n only enjoys being with Deku when they’re using eachothers lips as a way to escape their isolation.

For a while, their bonds remain relatively stable. But as time goes on, the weak foundations their relationships were built on begin to crumble.

You and Izuku arrive at the common area after an intense sparring match, which you lost against Kirishima. You courteously accepted your defeat, though Izuku remains pissy about it. 

“I just-- I can’t believe you lost!” he expresses, refusing to accept your failure.

“I know! I work so hard, and I’ve never lost a match before! I don’t understand… ” You fix your gaze on the floor, not wanting to meet Izuku’s disappointed eyes. "I guess it’s good I lost today, because now I know exactly what I need to work on! I had no idea my mind can't pierce solid surfaces." It's honestly cool Kirishima's hardening quirk kept your thoughts from breaking into his mind. Now you know to practice sending your thoughts to another person through a wall. "I guess if I never lost, I would end up an egotistical maniac… Like Bakugou!” you joke with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah! You just have to work harder!” Izuku agrees. 

You appreciate his positivity. While his attitude is always upbeat with others, his comments to you are always nasty.

“Maybe you haven’t been working hard enough, but I know you can do better! Everyone does! " he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "So when you lose, it’s embarrassing...” 

You rip your hand away from Deku. “What? Who’s it embarrassing for? You?” you question accusingly.

“Y-Yuh-Yes!” he sputters, “When you lose, it makes others think I'm a loser too! And if I want to be the number one hero, I can't have people thinking that!”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you think. He considers you to be this bright and shiny object he can brag about at show and tell. Now, you’re losing your polish. You’re collecting a little bit of dust and a few scrapes, and he's losing interest. Already, Deku wants to move on to the next object that catches his eye. 

Not only that, but he craves whatever looks good on headlines. He desires magazine covers to display "number one hero marries highschool sweetheart!" He wants "unbeatable hero couple foil supervillain 100!". Apparently "Deku is never going to be the top hero because his girlfriend lost one fight her freshman year at U.A.!" is the article he's currently imagining. 

“I’m not just some gold medal you can show off to others, Izuku. And I'm especially not some perfect little prize you can wrap up in a cute little bow. I’m human. That means sometimes I win, and sometimes I fuck up.” you retort calmly, trying to keep your cool. 

“We’re called the golden girl and boy for a reason. We’re supposed to grow up being the perfect, powerful couple,” he reaches for your hand, but you flinch away. 

“It doesn’t really seem like we are, does it?! Our whole ‘golden couple’ label is complete bullshit!” you bicker. “We, as people, aren’t perfect. We never will be. No one ever will be!" You laugh humorlessly. "And our relationship sure as hell isn’t.” 

Deku closes his eyes with a sigh. “We--We just have to try. I’m doing my part to work as hard as I can to get better. I’m not going to suffer because I'm carrying your losses on my back. I'm not letting you get in the way of my dream to be the number one hero.” 

You get it. Because he's praised for his powerful physical quirk, he thinks he's better than you. Because he's physical quirk always leaves him battered, he thinks he's suffered more than you. Because he can go to the gym every day, get ripped and show off his muscular calves with every kick, he thinks he works harder than you.

After months of petty arguments, Izuku has finally found a way to make you snap.“Oh shut up, Izuku! You know I've worked my entire fucking life for where I am now! I've told you stories from my past I've never so much as mentioned to others! How I went home crying from middle school every damn day because of migraines! How everyone there considered me some kind of--of alien, some freak because I'm able to get inside people's heads! How I was bullied for practicing my power because kids considered it a quirk more suited for a villain! It was hard, but I managed to ignore all that crap and kept working! And I still work hard. Every. Single. Fucking. Day." You take a ragged breath, unphased by Izuku's shocked expression. Good. He should be shocked. He should feel bad. Because he's crossed a fucking line. "And how come it’s only bad when I lose when you’ve lost plenty of times, Izuku?! ” You pointedly stick your finger at him and poke his chest with it. “Remember how you practically failed the entrance exam?! How about when Todorki beat the crap out of you at the Sports Festival!” you yell. With every point, you shove your finger into Izuku's chest. Eventually, you push him against a wall. “Don’t try and act like you’re above me because you have a powerful external quirk.” You shut your eyes and when you open them, they’re glowing e/c. “Because my mental quirk can fuck someone up just as bad as any of your stupid punches.” You warn, before whirling around. “I’m going to my room, Izuku. Come with me if you want.” 

Of course, he follows you like a lost puppy.

Every pitbull is an adorable, loveable puppy before it grows up into a vicious hound. You thought you could fall in love Deku, you really did. But you were capable of loving the Deku whom Izuku pretended to be. The innocent Deku you approached on the first day of school, after noticing he was acting as flustered as you felt. The thoughtful Deku who wanted nothing more than a friend to run to the vending machine with between classes. The friendly Deku who you invited over to movie night, who buried his head into his blanket in embarrassment every time two characters did it on screen, and cried every time someone died. 

You could've fallen in love with your best friend.

Either he's changed, or since you're his girlfriend, he can’t hide who he truly is anymore. You know how he will do anything to have the public opinion in his favor. You know he will sacrifice anything during his climb to Number One Hero, even if it’s crushing you. 

You wordlessly walk side by side to your dorm, but as you near the dorm hallway, some bitch interrupts your silence.

“Why do you always have to yell, Bakugou!?” Uraraka yells from inside Bakugou’s room, which is coincidentally a few dorms down the hall from yours. You and Izuku turn into the hallway in time to witness Uraraka barge out of Bakugous room. She rubs her temples in frustration. When she notices the two of you outside your room, she eases her body language and lowers her voice to sweetly ask, “Can you just calm down, babe?”

“Don’t order me around! I’m being perfectly calm and rational!!” Bakugou shouts in response. “You’re the one who needs to calm down! You’re worked up over nothing! This is how I am, and I’m not going to change for some shitty woman!” he storms over to Uraraka, oblivious to the fact you and Izuku are watching this play out. That, or he just doesn’t give a shit.

Uraraka gasps. “I’m your girlfriend, you can’t call me that!” she chides. “This is exactly what I don’t like about you! You’re so aggressive all the time!” She fusses, like a child having a tantrum. Her bangs dance around her head as she stomps away from Bakugou, but he grabs her wrist to keep her in place. "Let me go! Being around you gives me headaches.”

“We should probably go~” Izuku whispers, attempting to open your door.

You slap his hand away. “I wanna see what happens,” you whisper back.

Izuku nervously glances between you and the arguing couple. “You’re so nosy! Come on, we’re leaving.” he decides, but you try to stay put. He then simply uses his quirk to overpower you and drag you inside, though even through four sets of rooms and a closed door, you can hear their argument.

“Being around you gives me headaches! All you do is nag about that nerds shitty girlfriend, and how shitty I am!” Bakugou explains. His insult doesn’t hurt you as much as you expect it to, because you can hear it. To someone who hasn’t listened intently to his screams and threats for the past few months, his voice appears as crass as always. But you hear the desperation in his voice. All he wants is for Uraraka to read between the lines and hear what he truly is saying, but no matter how hard he tries, she doesn’t. And it’s hurting him. He’s frustrated and in pain, because all she wants is for him to change every aspect of himself. Can she not see that? “Getting a girlfriend isn’t a part of being a hero, and it’s not something I need to pick up on my way to the top. I’m doing this because I can stand you. But I don’t need a damn girlfriend, especially when all mine does is make me feel like crap.” He’s describing his feelings in his own Bakugou way, but she doesn’t understand his language. And by the way he worded this last sentence, it sounds like he’s starting to give up. 

“If you don’t need me, then why are we dating!”

At this point, you’re sick of hearing their bullshit. You leave your room to yell at the couple and hopefully get them to shut the fuck up.

Izuku tries to hold you back. “Leave it alone!” he hisses, but you leave anyway.

“Uraraka, can you shut the hell up?” you jeer. This is the third time this week she’s made your fucking ears bleed with her screeching. Bakugou leans on the all and snickers, convinced someone has taken his side. But oh, if the boy who broke your heart thinks he’s safe from your candor, he’s wrong. You jut your chin at him. “And Bakugou, go find a wall to punch.” You turn towards your door. “Go work this shit out in couples counseling or something. 'Cuz you guys need fuckin therapy.” 

Bakugou snorts, enraging Uraraka. First, you steal Deku, and now Bakugou’s laughing at your jokes? Not happening.

“Leave us alone, Y/n!” she huffs, her pink cheeks now red with irritation. You flip her off before slamming your door shut. Bakugou’s eyes gawk at your closed door, unsure if he loves you or hates you. Either way, your remarks emit a small, impressed ‘huh’ from him. 

From that point on, Bakogous thoughts of you revolve around one question; Who knew the golden girl was such a badass?

After months of sleepless nights (due to overthinking Izuku's daily insults and listening to Bakugou and Uraraka’s endless arguments), your first year of U.A. nears its end. On one hand, you’re excited to take some time for your mental health. On the other, you’re going to miss kicking ass in weekly training (especially Izukus), and then following those brawls with Class 1-A movie night (which Izuku always spent touching you as minimally as possible, either because you ‘barely won’ or because you defeated him). Bakugou can't wait to get the hell away from Uraraka and her endless spew of horseshit. She doesn't know how to do anything but make crap float and talk shit about him or Izuku’s girl. She always goes on and on about how exhausting his yelling is, but listening to her nonstop yabbering makes spending summer locked away, either in a gym or in his kitchen, sound like heaven on earth. 

With only a month of school left, Izuku waits outside your dorm for you to finish getting ready for the day, growing anxious as the minutes’ tick closer to the first bell.

A few doors down, Uraraka impatiently taps her shoe on the ground as she waits for Bakugou.

If there’s one thing you and Bakugou have in common, it’s your impunctuality. 

“Hey! Sorry that took so long! I kept fucking up my eyeliner,” You exit your room and blow a stray piece of bangs out of your eye to check out your wings on your phone screen. “Nice,” You shove your phone into your bag, satisfied.

“Babe, you don’t need to spend so much time on makeup!” Izuku cups your cheeks with his hands, but focuses on your eyeliner instead of your eyes with a slight grimace on his face. “You’re beautiful without it,” 

He says it politely, but you know this a backhanded compliment. He hates that you wear makeup, even though its the barebones that simply consists of mascara, eyebrows, and eyeliner. He prefers ‘natural’ girls, even though there is no way Urarakas cheeks are naturally that pink. You push his hands off your face. “I know Zuzu, thank you. But I like it.” You hold his hands tightly before dropping them.

Uraraka cringes as the sight of her boyfriend. “Katsuki!” she whines. Even though the whole point of the uniform is to signify everyone's equality, Bakugou loves wearing it in a way that screams “I’m the main character and better than you!” 

His baggy pants sag to expose his shitty job of tucking in his shirt, and ball around the combat boots he refuses to take off. Per usual, he leaves his buttons undone and doesn’t bother wearing the staple red tie.

“How come you’re late but still look like a mess?” Uraraka complains. She reaches out her hand to arrange his askew vest, but he pulls away from her. 

“I’m fine.” he aggressively grabs her hand and begins to pull her towards class. “Let’s go,”

Uraraka spots Izuku watching and stops Bakugou dead in his tracks. 

By planting a giant kiss on his face. 

“Eugh. Get a room!” You grouse, rolling your eyes at the repulsive sight. But Uraraka keeps it going by practically shoving him against the wall. “You might as well pull down his pants and suck him off while you’re at it!”

Bakugou pulls away from Uraraka to snicker at your comment. 

Hearing Bakugou snigger at a joke you made… It gives your heart a reason to beat for the first time in months. You proudly slip your fingers into Deku’s and glide away, Bakugous eyes following you entire time.

The halls are nearly empty, only a few irresponsible students straggling to class or hovering around their lockers.

“So, do you want to be partners for the Aizawa project?” Izuku questions, like either of you have any other friends to partner up with. He hauls you along as he speedwalks to class.

“Yeah! I wonder what it is.” You move at a steady pace, knowing there's plenty of time to enjoy a pleasant walk to class together before the bell rings. 

“I don’t know! Mirio and the other third years wouldn’t tell me!” Deku whines, tugging at your hand to bring you up to speed. “Y/n, hurry upppp! We’re going to be late!” 

“Dude, you’re gonna rip my arm off!" you moan, rubbing your forearm.

“Shhh,” he hushes. 

Although you expect this attitude by now, it still pisses you off. If Deku expects you to deal with him treating you like garbage, he's wrong.

"You'll be sorry the next time you do that," you mumble, but he pretends not to hear, instead using his quirk to squeeze your hand in reply. Hard.

You barely wince.

“Now let’s go into class!” Izuku intertwines your fingers, straightens himself up, and tells you to put on a smile. He doesn’t do this because wants to hold your hand or genuinely cares about you, but because he enjoys the dramatic chorus of cheers you two always receive as you enter the classroom. If there’s anything Deku likes about your relationship, it’s how he gets to show you off like a trophy. His trophy. 

You enter class, and Mina immediately screams about how cute and perfect you two are together.

The golden boy and golden girl are dating. Honestly, who wouldn’t love that?

Bakugou doesn’t. He scoffs and turns away while everyone else encourages your shit show. Uraraka claps stiffly.

The corners of your mouth sink the instant the class’s attention shifts to some dumb pun Kaminari made. Bakugou is the only one to notice your smile fall when you reach your desk. He notices how you lean your head against the palm of your hand to stare out the window instead of at your boyfriend. You look… Tired. Like you’re tired of this act while Izuku relishes in the praise. Currently, he’s making a show to Uraraka of all the cute dates he’s taken you on while you create a show inside your head. A show where you and Bakugou are the ones going on cute days. Izuku uses his conversation with Uraraka as a way to silently convince her he’s better than Bakugou (and she’s falling for it), while you are just silent.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the eerie feeling of someone watching you sending your mind racing. When you turn to discover Bakugou is the one studying you, your face turns dark red and you immediately look away. The blush only fades once Aizawa starts talking.

“Class, today I will assign your partners for the quirk assessment.”

“Assign?!” The whole class screams in unison horror.

“Why are you assigning partners?!” Mina cries out, dramatically fainting across her desk. 

“Yeah! That’s not fair!” Kaminari adds on furiously.

“Nuh-no it’s not!” Mineta defends Aizawa’s decision, but internally drools over the idea of being paired with a girl.

“Settle down,” Aizawa silences the class with a single wave of his hand. “I understand you want to choose your partners, but in this assessment we want you to study the quirk of another person. Most likely, you all already know about your closest friends quirks. I want to pair you with someone new so you have to learn about a quirk you know nothing about.” he explains, to which the class to a reluctant conscientious that it's a good idea.

He clears his throat. “So, Mineta and Hagakure”

Mineta shrugs as if to say “good enough”, while Hagakure groans in disgust. 

You tune out the list, only listening for Izuku and Bakugou. As more names leave Aizawa’s lips and Izuku is already paired with Kirishima and Uraraka with Momo, you start to wonder who your partner will be. Who else hasn’t been mentioned? Damn, if only you had paid attention.

Finally, Aizawa reaches the last set of names. That’s when it hits you.

Aizawa hasn’t said Bakugou’s name.

“And…”

There’s no way.  This can’t be possible—

“Y/n and Bakugou.” Aizawa sighs. “You will have a presentation due on each other’s quirks next week. Get to work” he explains before zipping himself into his sleeping bag and flopping to the floor. 

You remain glued to your seat, completely frozen in shock. 

You already have a feeling this project isn’t going to end well. 

“Hey! Y/n!” Uraraka calls out from across the class, before squeezing through people to get to you. She pushes out her lip, clasps her hands together, and widens her eyes till the twinkle. “Do you think I can be with Bakugou, please? We’re kinda dating!” she exclaims as if it wasn’t obvious by how they were literally making out in front of you this morning. 

Without a second thought, you reply. “No.” You walk over to Bakugou and sit on his desk. “Sorry. I don’t want to bother Aizawa” you shrug nonchalantly, angering Uraraka to no end. But you know she’s too kind to say anything, and merely smiles to distract you from the steam spewing from her ears. 

“Okay! That’s fine!” she skips over to Bakugou and kisses his cheek. “Have fun babe,” she whispers before walking away with clenched fists. 

You think it’s interesting Bakugou didn’t say a single thing during the whole interaction. 

Does he want to be partners with you?

Or are you just the better option compared to his girlfriend?

Either answer is a good one, you suppose.

“Tch. Follow me, extra. We’re going outside.” Bakugou leaves his seat and shoves his hands deep into his pockets before lumbering away, leaving you to catch up. 

“Hey-- Wait up!” You call out. Bakugou huffs and leans against the doorframe. “Why are we going outside?”

Bakugou quirks an eyebrow at you with a smirk, igniting explosions from his palm. “It’ll be easier to learn about your quirk if I’m trying to blast you to hell.” 

“What?! No! I’m not fighting you!” you retaliate, stepping back into the classroom. You’re not in the mood to get your ass kicked by Bakugou, as hot as that sounds. 

“No wonder you’re dating Deku, you’re a coward too!” Bakugou taunts, his outburst washing a wave of silence across the classroom. You manage to keep your body relaxed and expression unperturbed, though fury rages within you. You will not let his intimidation frighten you. You refuse to be the reason he wears his sneer of satisfaction, that sickening smile that appears every time he successfully threatens or demolishes an opponent. 

You stare at the ground as dozens of eyes burn into your back, eagerly awaiting your response. 

Then, you do something you never thought was possible.

You raise one of your fists and punch Bakugou’s pretty face. 

“It’s on, Bakugou.” You spit. Before he reacts, you sprint down the hall towards the training grounds.