#how to tame a sleep-deprived vigilante

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake, Sleep-Deprived Overlord Extraordinaire (and the Boy Who Grounds Him)

The thing about Tim Drake is that he’s brilliant. The thing about Tim Drake without sleep is that he’s unhinged.

It always starts subtly. A missed night of sleep here, a triple shift there. His words get sharper, his focus becomes razor-edged, and the bats can practically see the neurons in his brain firing like a thousand fireworks.

Then, somewhere around hour 56 of no sleep, Tim crosses the threshold into full-blown megalomania.

He doesn’t just think he’s smart—he knows it. He’ll drop gems like, “Honestly, Gotham’s infrastructure is appalling. If I really wanted to, I could take over the city in 72 hours, tops,” or “Do you think I could reprogram every Bat-computer in the Cave before Bruce notices? Because I can.”

Which—yeah, okay, the family knows he’s capable of it, but it’s terrifying.

When he’s in this state, Tim walks around with the energy of someone who’s cracked the secrets of the universe and is two steps away from becoming a benevolent dictator. His confidence is unsettling. His hyper-awareness is borderline supernatural.

The bats try. Oh, do they try.

“Tim,” Dick says gently, holding out a cup of chamomile tea and a soft blanket. “Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”

Tim doesn’t even glance at him. “Lying down is for the weak, Dick. Also, you left your phone on the counter. Might wanna grab it before someone texts Kori again.”

Dick freezes. He did leave his phone on the counter, and he can only hope Tim didn't do anything with it (Though his comment definitely says otherwise).

“Tim,” Bruce says, the Big Bat Voice in full swing. “You need to rest.”

Tim smirks, flipping through his tablet. “Rest is for the dead, and I’m not in the mood for ghosts tonight. Also, you forgot to update the encryption on your personal server. Again.”

Even Damian tries, but he gets as far as hurling a batarang at Tim’s leg before Tim dodges it without looking. “Tsk tsk, Damian. You’re getting predictable.”

It’s chaos. It’s exhausting.

Enter Danny Fenton.

Danny’s used to Tim’s shenanigans by now. He’s been around for enough of Tim’s sleep-deprivation arcs to know the signs. The sharp eyes, the slightly-too-bright smile, the way he starts muttering plans for world domination like he’s drafting a grocery list.

Danny lets it slide for a while—Tim in hyper-mode is kind of cute, in a “my boyfriend might accidentally take over the world” way. But then he sees the bags under Tim’s eyes, the way his hands tremble just slightly from over-caffeination, and he knows it’s time to intervene.

Danny doesn’t use tea. He doesn’t try reason. He doesn’t even bother with the blanket method.

Instead, Danny steps into the Cave, tilts his head at Tim, and says, “Honey, can we cuddle?”

Tim freezes.

The bats, who have been subjected to hours of Tim’s unrelenting, untouchable brilliance, watch in shock as their insurmountable sibling folds like a deck of cards.

“I—uh—cuddle?” Tim stammers, blinking like a deer in headlights.

Danny smiles, soft and sweet and just shy of smug. “Yeah, I miss you. Come to bed with me?”

Tim’s resolve crumbles. He’s already pulling off his gauntlets. “Yeah, okay. Just for a bit.”

“A bit,” Danny agrees, but he’s already leading Tim upstairs.

The bats are left standing in the Cave, mouths agape.

Jason’s the first to break the silence. “Did we just get out-maneuvered by Tim’s boyfriend? The guy who hangs out with Harley Quinn for fun?”

Dick snorts. “I mean, are we really surprised? Danny’s been handling Tim better than any of us for years.”

Bruce exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing. “As long as Tim’s resting, I don’t care how it happened. Danny’s good for him.”

“Yeah,” Jason agrees with a shrug. “Kid’s weird, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. And if he can get Replacement to sleep, I’ll send him a damn fruit basket.”

The bats exchange a rare moment of collective relief.

Upstairs, Danny tucks Tim into bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face as Tim curls into him. He doesn’t care about strategies or what the bats think. All that matters is Tim, finally at peace in his arms.

"Sleep well, genius," Danny murmurs, pressing a kiss to Tim’s forehead. And for the first time in days, Tim does.

[pixiebuggiewrites]

Sorry Wrong Number!

Masterpost - Previous - Next - Ao3 link

Ngl this chapter and the two after it are pretty short but chapter 6 should have things going back to slightly longer so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Chapter 3: Damian (not bored) Wayne

Damian Wayne was no stranger to the unusual. In fact, most of his life would be classified as such by anyone with a more ‘traditional’ upbringing.

Which is why he was currently a tad bit on edge. Things had been way too quiet lately for something big to not be approaching. He just needed to figure out what it was.

No matter what his family said, he was not bored. He was just being cautious.

Patrols had been pretty tame for the past couple weeks, at least by Gotham standards. With no recent Arkham breakouts, the Bats had mostly been stopping run of the mill crimes such as muggings and break ins from occurring. It's not like he wanted something big to happen-quite the opposite in fact- but the whole situation was just suspicious . No matter what he did, the teen vigilante couldn't shake the strange feeling that something big was coming.

And something did come, in the form of a strange text from an unknown number. At first glance it appeared to be a simple case of wrong number, one that he usually would have been fine to ignore, delete, and forget about. But then he saw the contents of the message.

The first half was pretty normal. It started out asking the intended recipient (who was referred to as ‘Chlo’ by the sender) how they were settling into their new city, overall just a completely unassuming text to a friend. Nothing strange about it at all.

What was strange though, was the second half of the message. It was written in some kind of code, one he hadn't seen before at that. It seemed quite complex too, something Drake would probably enjoy cracking. He wasn't going to ask his sleep deprived sibling for help though, lest he receive any comments about undue paranoia (or boredom). He was going to figure this out himself.

But that had to wait for the time being, because he needed to get ready for patrol.

                                                         ----------

It was about 2 hours into patrol when Robin got the distinct feeling that he was being watched. He began to look around and his eyes landed a few buildings away, where a strange figure in a cloak had just landed.

Turning on his coms, he filled in the others on the situation and waited for backup.

Luckily backup came in the form of Nightwing, who was one of his easier to work with siblings. Together, the two went to confront the strange figure, who was still hiding on the same rooftop.

Unfortunately the figure noticed the two vigilantes approaching, and decided to make a run for it. The figure was fast too, leaving the rooftop before either could make out any identifying features. Him and Nightwing were prepared for this though, and continued to give chase.

That's when something strange happened. They were starting to close in on the mysterious figure when it started levitating, a strange buzzing sound coming from under the cloak. And just like that, the cloaked figure flew out of reach, and into the night.

From there patrol went by as normal, but there was definitely work to do when they got back to the cave.

                                                        ----------

The briefing over the cloaked figure was pretty short, considering they didn't have much to go off. Their cloak covered them well and no cameras managed to capture a face. It was a dead end for the time being, but they'd all be keeping an eye out if the figure showed up again.

With everything wrapped up for the night, Damian remembered the strange message on his phone. He wasn't quite sure where to begin there.

He wasn't going to track it just yet. That would be a bit too much of a privacy invasion, considering he didn't even know if the sender was doing anything shady in the first place. No matter how bored suspicious the 17 year old was, he knew that was a bad idea. Especially if his father were to find out.

So instead he decided to first text the number back. Simple enough, he could just inquire about the code after informing the sender of their mistake. From there he could figure out if further investigation was needed.

So he picked up his phone to send a response, completely unaware of the rabbit hole he was soon to fall down.  

---------------------------------

Taglist (open!!):

@queencommonsense @toodaloo-kangaroo

[heyheydidjaknow]

Three cheers to publishing on time. Can I get a what what? Anyways, here’s the next chapter. The previous chapter is at the bottom of this chapter. Go figure.

Chapter 3

“Okay, I think I got it.” It is possible you are going stir crazy. You would not be surprised if you were, but you have more pressing matters that, ridiculously, involve the timeline of fucking Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2012. You had not just stood the headassery of season four and five, but conquered it, tamed it, if you will. You do not remember the last time you ate. “So the only way I’m going to survive this series is if I somehow, through some sort of spiritual bullshit, get to become at least somewhat adept at ninjitsu.” You sigh. “But the only reason he trained her is because of her psychic bullshit.”

You stumble towards the kitchen to eat for the first time in days. “Actually, you know what? Fuck that.” You open the refrigerator, salivating at the food. “I’m just gonna buy a fucking gun. Dodge bullets, bitch.” You pull out a large slab of meat, tossing it on the counter. “If they aren’t going to actually incapacitate people, I will.”

A sudden thought stops you in your tracks. “Wait, so, what timeline am I on?” You feel your heart drop. “Because if we’re doing the whole thing…” You shake your head. “You know what? Prepare for the best and accept—that’s backwards.”

You put the meat back. Something about the existential dread kills your appetite. You crawl back into bed, close your eyes. ‘How long have I been in here?’ The time had admittedly swirled in on itself, your brain completely fried from all the contemplating death. ‘At least long enough to be in the no-man’s-land where I’m not hungry.’

You freeze up at the sound of knocking on your window.

Your eyes slowly pan over to the covered glass. You rise to your feet.

You shake your head, trying to remember to think rationally. ‘This place is very high off the ground for a stalker.’ Despite yourself, you quickly go to the kitchen, grabbing the largest frying pan you can find and slowly approaching the window.

‘There isn’t even a proper ledge out there. You’re being paranoid.’ Slowly, you reach for the curtain, yanking it open.

You scream at the sight of the hanging figure, only realizing you recognized said figure after a couple seconds. Thoroughly embarrassed— ‘Yeah, I could never be a ninja.’—you slide the window open, face red. “What do you want, Raphael?”

He wears a shit eating grin. “What, scared?”

“Of a shadowy figure in my window? Yes.” You sit back down on the bed, voice cold. “You gonna just hang out there or what?”

He climbs inside. “Alright, so here’s the situation.” He sits on the windowsill; you feel the secondhand vertigo. “Donnie—first of all, where have you been?”

“Binging the most traumatic part of your lives so far on my phone so you and your brothers don’t get killed by swole Shredder.”

His face went pale. “Shredder?”

You blink, a factor you had admittedly completely forgotten becoming apparent. “You don’t know he intends to come to the city,” you remember. “That’s—”

“He what?”

You sigh. “He is the least of your concerns at this particular moment. What about Donatello?”

“No, back up.” His smile was completely gone. “When is he getting here?”

You shrug. “I dunno.”

“You don’t know?”

You put your hands up at his obvious rage. “Dude, it is honestly not that big of a deal right now. He doesn’t even get close to killing your dad until the end of season two.”

You are decidedly not helping matters. “He gets close to—”

“Are you gonna repeat everything I say or are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m gonna—what?” Raph is quite clearly not taking this news well.

You try to calm him down. “Take a deep breath, alright? It might not get to that point, but you have to tell me what’s going on first.”

He growls in frustration but follows your instructions. “Mikey found out that he can apparently talk to people online, and he found this site where he can talk to—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” You pick up your phone, typing away. “You can’t, under any circumstance, let him go talk to Bradford.”

“Well, I know it would be bad--”

“You misunderstand.” You get up, starting to grab your things. “Bradford is working for the Shredder.”

This seems to be news. “He’s what?”

“Working for Shredder.”

“But he’s—how?”

“You have bigger concerns than the how, currently.” You read the page you had pulled up again. “How long ago did he find this guy?”

“Yesterday, I think.”

“Then… hold on.” You read the summary of the episode in question more thoroughly. “Okay, so we aren’t totally fucked, but we gotta make sure he doesn’t see him again.”

“Wait, hold on.” He walks after you as you try to find your jacket. “Why? How could Shredder—”

“If he goes, he’s gonna talk to him about general shit, right?” You slip it on. “At some point, in return for learning his secret bullshit, he’s gonna want info on you and your dad.”

“Then the Shredder will know where we are!” The horror in his eyes is apparent.

“Exactly.” You pull on your shoes. “That, and you’ll have to confront foot soldiers, which isn’t good for anyone.”

“Wait, is Mikey gonna be alright?”

“I mean, he gets kidnapped, but—”

“We’re going. Right now.”

“Awesome.” You were already one foot out the door. “Close the window on your way out.”

You rush down to the first floor of the building, nodding acknowledgement to the door man as you look up and down the street. ‘He has a dojo or something, right?’ You try googling his dojo, only to find that, not only is it a chain, but that they are all incredibly spread out. ‘It’s at times like these,’ you contemplate, running towards the closest one, ‘that I wish I could drive.’

It takes you about 10 minutes of running to get to the place, only for it to be closed. You feel tempted to throw your phone.

‘Wait, when does it—hold on.’ You already hate timelines. You sit down on the curb, pulling your phone out again to find some clips. ‘So, Chris and Mikey meet up some time after patrol, order pizza, and then it’s sunrise.’ You look up at the slowly lightening sky. ‘Okay, so that means they’re currently ordering, right? Because it was clearly dark in that last scene.’ You put your head in your hand. ‘I mean, it is, right? Because those are just wall separator things, not windows, since the sky was very clearly green in that next scene.’ You get to your feet. ‘So I just need to find that billboard with that specific graffiti and main message and we’re good to go, right?’ You groan. ‘But there have to be a thousand billboards in fucking NYC.’

You stop, smiling slightly at the graffiti. ‘Is that not a purple dragon?’ You grin, going back to running. ‘I just need to get to Chinatown, right? Is that their territory?’ You swallow, turning a street corner. ‘I guess we’ll find out.’

The buildings tower around you as you wander the streets, the quiet desolation ringing in your ears with the force of a gong. The pounding of your feet against the pavement does little to stifle the silence. The gang in question may not be a challenge or concern for vigilantes, but to you? You are barely a flower now, bright and beautiful and oh so easy to crush. But you cannot and will not stand still for long. The walls of the alleys you run crush your sides and the darkness strangles you, but despite the beating of your heart begging you to stop, you cannot. How can you?

You can stop what comes next. That is what fuels you. Never mind the fact you must stumble to a halt to vomit into the nearest dumpster who knows how many times, the taste of acid staining your tongue. You can rewrite history.

But you cannot.

You walk around for approximately too long before correctly citing that this is, in fact, futile. You start to panic.

You turn back around. ‘He goes back to talk to his brothers, right?’ You feel your body start to shake. You keep your phone to your ear, pretending to talk to someone as you run around like a headless chicken so as to not get bothered, hopefully. ‘Then I still have a chance to catch him before he leaves, right? At least he won’t get kidnapped.’ You look around quickly, slipping into an alleyway and prying off a manhole cover, climbing into the sewer. You pull the cover back into place and start running along them, the smell nauseating in the darkness suffocating. ‘Please tell me I remember where this stupid lair is.’

You laugh in relief when you see the abandoned subway, sprinting down the tunnel. ‘I can catch him,’ you promise yourself. ‘I can catch him before—’

You slam into someone. They grab your wrist before you fall. “Yo, are you alright?”

“Mikey!” You feel your whole body relax, but the relief is quickly squashed. ‘Thank fuck.’ You grab his shoulders. “You can’t see Bradford again.”

“Wait, what?” He groaned. “Did Raph set you up to this?”

“What? No!” As the adrenaline and panic start to wear off, you feel your body begin to falter at the excessive strenuous physical activity, panic, no food or water for two days and sleep deprivation. You dig your fingernails into your palms to try to keep yourself grounded. “He just said that you were friends with him or something and I went looking for you!”

“Look,” he sighed, letting go of you and not noticing the obvious slur in your voice, “I get it, alright? Not all of us can have a super awesome friend like Chris—”

“He’s working for Shredder, dipshit.” You feel the ground spinning as your skull rips itself apart. “Coolness be gone, that bitchass Dogpound fucker.” You have no idea what you are saying. ‘Huh,’ you muse, struggling to stay on your feet. ‘Usually, it takes longer than this to shut down.’

“Shredder?” You cannot feel things, so you have no idea what his actual reaction is. “He’s here?”

“Yep.” And with that, you collapse.

--

Suffice it to say, when you wake up, you feel like absolute shit, with a pounding headache, extreme fatigue, and an obvious desire to not move from the bed in which you lay.

Thinking hurts. You decide against it for the time being.

You hear typing, soft muttering, the scratching of pencil against paper. You do not want to open your eyes; whatever you are laying under is warm. You try flexing your fingers. You can, but it is barely worthy of being called a twitch. You feel sick and gross and sticky and like you are eating yourself from the inside out, but you are also very aware that moving will not help matters. Besides, what small part of you is not covered is absolutely freezing.

You let out a soft groan from a particularly egregious pound from your head. You hear the typing stop.

“Y/N?” Donatello’s voice is incredibly soft. “Are you alright?”

You do not answer. Your throat feels like it is filled with sand.

“Oh, right.” You feel the mattress shift under you. “You—right.” He clears his throat. “You, uh, probably want to know what happened, right?”

You find yourself in between sleep and consciousness. You do not exactly understand what he’s saying, but his voice is pleasant to listen to.

“Mikey carried you back,” he explains. “He said you started talking about Chris Bradford working for The Shredder and collapsed.” A pause. “Leo thought it would be a good idea to go take him down since he already spilled the beans.”

‘You aren’t helping.’ “Everyone got out alright.” He is writing something. “We don’t know how much Shredder knows or how he found us; Master Splinters said that the war has just begun or something to that effect.” He pauses again. His voice is almost hesitant now. “If you spoke, I’d ask how…how this ends, who wins the day.” He chuckles dryly. “Now that I say it out loud, I guess it’s pretty clear that you wouldn’t tell me, would you? Rightfully so, I guess; I don’t know exactly how that sort of information might change things. Still,” he sighs, “it is so… so frustrating, having information just out of reach, especially for someone like me. But you—… you probably know that too, don’t you?”

It is not as if you can refute what he says.

He clears his throat. “A-anyways,” he rambled, voice tight with awkwardness, “sorry for ranting. This would be totally embarrassing if you weren’t so clearly incapable of coherent thought.” You hear the shuffling of paper. “As far as your health is concerned,” he continues, “without being able to take a blood test for obvious reasons, I can only conclude based on a totally-not-creepy physical exam that you’re just incredibly malnourished and exhausted. I don’t really have anything to actually prescribe you, but ya know… eat. Drink, too; just perform basic bodily functions.”

He looks down at you from his seat at the foot of his bed, your eyes having fluttered shut again. “I…” he took a breath, starting again. “Remember what you said the other day? About me being able to kill you with my bare hands?” He looks back over at the line of code he is working on, ignoring the minute shaking in his hands. “I remember… do I kill someone?” He swallows, eyes focusing on the letters in front of him. “I can’t really imagine it, why I’d want to.” He covers his face with his hands. “I know I’m a ninja, but it’s just—” He feels his voice start to rise. His eyes focus on your sleeping face; he calms back down for your sake. His words are slow and deliberate. “I always thought that we were doing all this for a fight we’d never have, that we would never have to do something like that, because… well, I don’t remember why, but I just—…” His voice dies in his throat.

‘Staring at her like this is creepy.’ He stands up, gathering his things. ‘You can’t get yourself worked up over something like this. You just met her, and your hesitance is not anyone’s problem but yourself.’ “Just…” Despite himself, he mumbles out a soft plea. “Please, don’t let me do something stupid.” He does not know who he’s talking to

He slips out of the room.

You would not remember this happened.

He would.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

My Favs... and possibly why

(Haikyuu, My Hero Academia, Jujutsu Kaisen)

Haikyuu!!

1. Iwaizumi- tbh if you think it’s because I find him hot you are partially correct. but like he is a multitalented athlete who cares about his friends(strangers too) and despite having all the traits of a strong leader he spends his time supporting and helping others and is passionate about it marry me now. He strong also. My haikyuu husband

2. Kenma- Anxious gamer boy supports nerdy friend, in his passion finds joy in it, is incredibly smart/perceptive, hot , awkward, puts his all in the things he likes doing. everyone says he’s not baby he’s aggressive, chaotic and would not hesitate to fight but that is what makes him MY baby.

3. Noya- Hello what show are you watching if you don’t like nishinoya?? although he is very energetic and it would exhaust me at time he’s talented, pretty, passionate, shorter than me, loving and motivating. I want to be the kiyoko or asahi in his eyes. that look in his eyes. I want it to be for me.also i want to go on a gay trip around the world with him no fair asahi

4. Asahi- Trope subversion yes please. Give me my big softie who is a ball of anxiety but a normal teenager even though he looks so tough and mature i love him so much and he’s strong and reliable and would support you in whatever you’re doing come on what is there not to like (besides his new design) i want him to smile for me and design some clothes for me.

5. Tie for Hinata and Bokuto- Idk i don’t have that shounen mc aversion so i love loud passionate babies. Hinata is not my favorite but I haven’t seen the whole series and I think i can fall in love with him a little more because he’s adorable and passionate and hardworking look at him why would I hate him. Bokuto is like hinata if hinata had his personality put in a bigger body. It’s a little more unstable in the bigger body but still fun and so amazing. beefy.

honorable mentions: Aone & Ushijima: Asahi in different fonts. Suga: I would marry him if he asked but in terms of fav characters he narrowly missed top 5. Tendou & Kyotani: They are seen as scary but i don’t find them scary and want to tame them and have them for myself. Matsukawa: Hot. you need anything else?

 Jujutsu Kaisen:

1. Yuji Itadori- He is SO CUTEEE. Hellooooo are you watching jujutsu kaisen? like I know you’re all unnecessarily horny for Gojo and Sukuna but no one is better than Yuji. He is sweet and cute and considerate and loving and trusting and a beautiful himbo. He is adaptable, welcoming, passionate, and he’s like one of the only characters i know who says “i don’t want to kill because I value human life but one day I will have to. Until then I am going to look for other ways” He accepts the darkness of the world and that he is going to be put in a difficult position. He is not on the “killing people is always bad no matter what situation you’re in” train. I dislike those people. 

2)Teenage Gojo and Geto- to avoid spoilers I’m just gonna say icons. mwah

3) Nobara- I am not a gay disaster I am a bi/pan disaster. All other men (except the ones above) pale in comparison to this wonderful woman. She is chaotic, badass, smart, amazing wonderful talented gorgeous where was I going with this. Anyway when she was fighting that one guy and she was whooping his ass it was amazing (this happens i would say often so it’s not a spoiler)

4) Nanami: I feel better about him than Reigen Arataka but they are similar. Nanami wants Yuji to be a child, though he respects Yuji and recognizes his power and passion. He wants kids to be able to be kids and let the adults handle the big problems. Unlike reigen he actually realizes when he can’t handle everything by himself and the kids will be put into hard and horrible positions so he teaches/advises. Also he hates working as he should

5) Megumi: He is cute and i love his non gendered preference for good people. plus i think his animals are cool. He is respectful and cares a lot, i like how his bad backstory affects him but doesn’t control/motivate him. pretty dry otherwise

honorable mention: Adult gojo: cutie! Junpei: no words. Sukuna: bastard but likeable

BNHA/ My Hero

1. Aizawa- Did you think I would put anyone else in the number one spot? please. Aizawa Shouta is my one and true husband above all fandoms. This man is hot, all other words for attractive, gorgeous, funny, sleep deprived passionate (“really cool”-shigaraki) he cares about his students, regular people and i think a little bit for people who become villains out of necessity. I have read the manga and vigilantes and oh my god he is such a great hero and so strong ugh. Him and the kitty in vigilates 10/10. He is a true hero and I think he’s better than all might

2) Bakugou- It took me a long road to get here but I am 100% a bakugou fan. When he was in middle school I wanted to beat the crap out of him and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one. He took things too far. But then I started to think about his life and i’m 100% sure I would’ve become a villain in like season 4. He matured, and became a strong willed passionate person who cares about saving people over proving his worth and I know that was hard for him. I dare say he had even more character growth than anyone else in the series that stuff speaks to me. It definitely doesn’t hurt that he’s attractive

3) Shinso- I think I saw a tiktok where people were confused how we like shinso so much after seeing so little of him and I was so confused as to how his little screen time wasn’t enough for y’all??? Traumatic backstory? pretty hair? sleep deprivation? strong motives and an amazing quirk? sarcasm and cutthroat attitude to get where he wants but he refrains from violating people too much? he is like aizawa and bakugou mixed together and then given some insecurities what’s there not to like

4) Midoriya- He’s a really cool MC i’m gonna be honest. He just isn’t my favorite person in the series. He’s a hard worker, brave, strong, admirable, adorable, and sweet. he can also get violent and lets loose and cares about people. I for one am really glad to see him living out his dream and thinks he’ll be fantastic

5) Amajiki & Kirishima- These two are the opposites of each other but make up for it and make great work partners. Amajiki is cute and shy with a lot of anxieties but he’s powerful and smart and can take control of a situation very quickly once he makes his mind up. He is wonderful i love him. Kirishima is handsome and bold showing off his strength and charisma but he has a lot of insecurities about inaction yet he can be great support especially when he’s got a good partner/leader fighting with him (bakugou, fatgum, amajiki). An he’s sweet and amazing

honorable mention: Twice: He is caring and so sweet and i love him, also he’s hot. Iida: loosen up a little class rep, you’re smart and semi adaptable, you are passionate and pretty handsome too. Present Mic: amazing talented brilliant showstopping. the only other person who can have aizawa.