#it was a nice evening I made shortbread tea cookie while we watched it they’re my go-to ringathon snack

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

Cried at Lord of The Rings tonight T—T

[rosesareviolentlyread]

WIJ Day 3: Love

WOO the first actual prompt is here. This is a modern magic world heavily inspired by @0idril0 and @whumpywhumper‘s Nico & Markus/Lucien series respectively. I HIGHLY recommend you check them out. So this is meant to be an introduction to Pastor John/The Reverend, who is my first attempt at an intimate whumper. Thanks to @ashintheairlikesnow for inspiring the Reverend with Bram, def check out all her stuff if you haven’t

CW: religious whump, creepy whumper, whumper who doesn’t think they’re a whumper, kinda abusive relationship vibes, drugging, taking advantage of someone’s emotional state

John sits, listening to the record player in the corner crackle with the sounds of a congregation’s singing. His students tease him for being a ‘hipster’, but there’s something satisfying about their amateur voices, captured imperfectly, naturally, using a technology that reminds him of pottery, or weaving. Sound pressed into something physical, ethereality brought to his fingertips, his ears, across time. 

It’s a pleasant evening all around. John savors every detail as he takes a sip of scotch - a gift from a colleague in Edinburgh - settling into the thick leather chair by the fireplace, just musing in his mind while he waits for the brownies to be done. Perhaps he should grade, or write a lecture, or work on his sermon. But these moments in time, of being in his body, of feeling fire in his throat as sparks flick out as his toes, these are God’s moments, moments of perfect creation and harmony. 

But still, he isn’t bothered by the knock on his door, despite the late hour. The students know his door is always open. He’s become used to them coming to his couch after a late temptation, or perhaps a lapse in their faith. Perhaps just a personal dilemma. The community too, though they typically take the ‘door unlocked’ policy as is. 

No, the timidness of the youngest in his flock always brings a smile. It seems no matter how many departmental or congregational dinners he hosts, how many times they come knocking, they always knock. It is part of their youth, not cemented in their beliefs, in knowing that God will provide. So he provides, until they can become sure, can understand how a trinity of a different kind, God, his Son, and their Pastor, will be there for them. They are lambs, learning to stand on their own legs, which is why this is his favorite place to shepherd. 

“Coming!” He calls out, setting the glass carefully on a coaster before opening the thick door to the cottage. It takes a few blinks to clear his eyes from the rush of cold air that assaults them. The weather always seems to surprise him, just one of many things in this beautiful world. 

But what doesn’t necessarily surprise him is to see, red-rimmed eyes, a flushed tear-tracked face delicately wrought in its complexion, set upon a lithe frame that hides immense strength, an immense spirit that positively glows normally with ash-blonde hair and bright gray-blue eyes. Faith. A sense of calm comes over him, a release of tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding for days. 

“Oh, my girl, I was hoping you’d come by” Before she can get a word out, John wraps strong arms around her, enveloping her in a warm hug. Immediately he feels the telltale shake of her shoulders, small hands gripping the back of his sweater tightly, a damp spot right near his heart growing. 

Yes, John expected this. For how long, he isn’t entirely sure. Perhaps, always. Perhaps, because somewhere in him, he knew God had bigger plans for them both.

Faith had been a special student to him, from her first year intro course in the Theology department. A bright girl, a good girl, who believed with her heart and soul in Jesus’ saving grace for even the most dastardly of sinners. He hadn’t recognized it well at the time, but even he had fallen prey to the negativity within the church, the ones who said Supernaturals were truly the devil incarnate, incapable of being saved. 

But Faith, she took it upon herself to prove them all wrong. She’d been hesitant to propose her thesis to him, as her advisor. A piece to study the beliefs and communities of Supernaturals locally, from a theological and sociological perspective, in order to understand how those beliefs might be reconciled with modern Christianity. A piece that would allow for the Evangelical church she came from to see the same possibility of salvation she did. To choose love. 

“It’s alright, shhh. Why don’t you come in? The brownies for tomorrow’s potluck are almost done. I’ll put on some tea, dandelion right?” Gently, he pried her away from him, thumbing tears as she sniffled away the last of her outburst. 

“Thank you, Reverend. I just...I didn’t know where else to go. Yet.” The downcast of her eyes nearly breaks his heart at the cruelty of this world. For his fellow Christians had chosen to hate, to cast her out of their flock, after she bared her thesis, her work, no matter how unfinished. All because of what she was. 

Peter 1 4:8 comes to his mind: Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers a multitude of sins.

So what if she was truly born Fae, a natural sinner of the largest proportions. Does her desire to be saved, to save others, to feel Jesus’ healing light not garner love in them? 

Her desire, her faith, does in John’s chest, a warm feeling better than the finest scotch as he gently leads her to couch, leaving her with some tissues to compose herself. 

The moment feels so right the longer he’s in it. The brownie timer goes off right as he enters the kitchen, and he pulls them out. Perfect. He leaves them to cool as he flicks on the kettle, fingers moving through his vast collection for just the right blend. Dandelion, reminiscent of shortbread cookies, Faith’s favorite. They’ve shared so many cups over late night thesis meetings, church group meetings, dinner meetings that the box has only one left. Pulling out the last packet, he tucks away in his mind to buy more boxes. 

They’ll go through a lot he imagines, in the next few months. It’s easy to prepare, like a moment meant to be, as he lets the tea steep, adds two spoonfuls of sugar, and drops in the pills, stirring until they dissolve evenly. 

He brings it all out, tea, brownies, to the couch, where she’s already claimed a throw. It’s good, he thinks, that she already feels at home here. It’ll be easier that way. 

“Thank you,” her hands grip the warm mug, breathing in the steam, and he watches attentively as she takes a sip. “It’s been...I was scared. That you’d turn me away too” 

“My dear, you have never had anything but love for Jesus and God in your heart. Why would I believe something like this would change that?”

Of course he had been worried, in the beginning of her thesis, that she would be swayed. That they would convince her with their wicked tongues, guile her with magic and false miracles, false idols. Yes, now that he looks back, perhaps he did see it all coming. No, she hadn’t been swayed. 

But she’d swayed him. To believe in the possibility of truly saving those damned souls. So much that he’d begun his own research, his own plans, prepared for the possibility. And now, it appeared God’s plan was working perfectly, dropping her right on his doorstep on the eve of her transformation between worlds, an apostle for a new era

“Everyone else seems to think that, that this is wrong. How though? How can being who I am, the person God made me, be wrong?” Her voice is quiet in the night, barely above the crackling fire in its hoarseness, tinged still with tears. 

“He does nothing wrong. He made you this way for a reason, so that you may show others. Think of it, your work, is this not His plan?” John tries to keep the excitement out of his voice, to remain calm, collected. Gentle. Yes, he must be gentle, to do this in love for the Lord. 

She pauses, sipping more. “I...I don’t know. I just, I need some time, I think. I was walking to the bus stop when I passed your house and thought...I don’t know. I guess I hoped there’d be something I could come back to, when I was ready” Her eyes stare into the surface of the tea, growing distant. Tired. It’s working fast, he knows, likely due to her exhaustion from the past few days. 

“It’s alright to not know. The Bible does not have all the answers, but it leads us to where we need to find them. Perhaps that’s why you came here. Why don’t you get some rest, stay here tonight. Tomorrow is a new day, a new chance for you to find your way.” 

“Thank you, Reverend. That..that sounds nice. You’re right, I need to-o-o-o” the sentence is interrupted by a yawn and he chuckles. 

“It sounds like the only thing you need right now is a good night’s rest. Come on, I promise this couch may be old, but she’ll service you well. She’s saved me from several late night grading sessions” Taking the tea, he lets her settle down, and grabs a quilt from the closet - a gift from an older parishioner - and tucks it around her. 

“Goodnight, Faith. Sleep well, tomorrow will be a busy day” she mumbles something slurred, incomprehensible under the effect of the drug. Still, he sits and waits, gently petting the silky hair until her breathing fully evens out, deepens into a rhythm that could be a lullaby to itself in his ears. 

So beautiful, so wonderful, so perfect. Truly, this is his and her purpose: to show that the souls of the supernatural can be saved through Jesus’ light. 

It is with that thought that he picks up the limp bundle of girl, and carries her down into the basement.

Tags: @sableflynn @bleedingandfeverish @starry-whump @whumpmasinjuly(let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list for this series)

[dreamcatcherfication]

Ghosts Are Just as Real as You and Me - Part 4

READING GLASSES CATHY PARR RISES!

*clears throat* Well then. Chapter four, never thought I’d make it this far. This is actually the longest chapter yet, reaching about 3250 words. Here we get to jump around and see a little bit of everyone including (what anon asked me about a while ago) Duo Moms Aragon and Jane. This chapter escalates from happy to sad to oh no pretty quickly, so I hope you all enjoy that as much as I did. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my brother was performing ritualistic sacrifices in the living room.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas (now featuring random asks). If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Random Asks

Trigger Warnings: Threats of violence, Henry VIII

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A few days passed with all the queens waiting anxiously for the storm to hit, but life went on as normally as it had before Henry showed up. All the queens became hesitant, unsure of how to support each other when Henry’s reincarnation was uncharted territory. Eventually the tension became too much and Aragon approached Jane before breakfast one morning. “Jane, how would you like to go out for coffee?”

“What?” Jane furrowed her eyebrows. “But I have to make breakfast for the girls, it’s the only time we all still eat together.”

Wincing Aragon put a hand on the countertop. “Well yes, but… I was thinking that if you and I take Kitty out for coffee and muffins this morning -”

Jane caught on to what Aragon was saying. “We’ll be able to get her mind off of everything. You know what Catherine, I actually like that idea.”

Sighing in relief, Catherine moved away from the table and towards the stairs. “Will you finish making breakfast for the others if I go and wake up Kit?”

“One step ahead of you!” Jane called as she flipped some bacon already cooking. Turning around, Aragon made her way up to the second floor and across the way to Kit’s room. Kit was never the last to wake up, but she was never the first either. Chances were she would be shut in her room listening to music or watching television, waiting until Jane called her down for breakfast.

Knocking on the door, Aragon listened until she heard Kit’s voice. “Who is it?” came from within the room, muffled through the door.

“Aragon.”

A hum of confirmation came from Kit, and Aragon entered the room. “Is breakfast ready?” Kit asked, her phone in her hand as she turned off her music.

“About that,” Aragon started, then immediately regretted it when she saw the way Kit’s face dropped. “Jane and I wanted to take you out for coffee and muffins instead today. We thought it’d be nice to get out of the house a bit.”

Eyes lighting up, Kit scrambled off the bed and shot Aragon with the most precious smile on Earth. “Why’d you say it like it’s a bad thing, of course I’ll come with you two!” Exhaling, Aragon couldn’t help the grin that grew on her face at Kitty’s enthusiasm. Lately the girl had been so down on herself that seeing her back to even a sliver of her enthusiastic self was enough for Aragon to feel proud of herself for her coffee idea.

The two of them made their way down the stairs to where Jane was setting out plates for the other queens. Cathy was already at the table with a book in her hands and her reading glasses on. Anna was out on her morning run, sure to return later, and Anne was still in her room sleeping (like she always was). Glancing up, Cathy watched as the three other queens pulled on their shoes and got ready to leave. “Have fun out there you three,” she called, turning the page of her novel.

“Do you want us to bring you anything back?” Aragon asked her God-daughter.

Pondering the offer for a second, Cathy shrugged. “If they have hazelnut muffins, could you grab me one?”

“Sure,” Aragon replied. Jane chuckled, realizing how domestic the exchange was, but she didn’t complain. Kit tugged at her hand and looked pointedly at the door, anxious to get going. It was a change to see Kit so carefree, but it was obvious the girl was trying to push away her doubts. There was still the bit of hesitation before she grabbed Jane’s hand and the cringing when either of the queens spoke too loudly, but Kit was trying. Neither Jane nor Aragon were afraid of coddling Kit when she showed her strength in working to overcome her own problems. In fact, it was a very welcome sight for the queens who had begun to worry.

Jane was the one driving, with Aragon in the passenger seat and Kitty in the back. To a passerby they might’ve looked like a family, and although none of them voiced it, they all had the thought cross their minds. “Which shop are we going to?” Kitty asked, fiddling with her phone without turning it on.

“Coffee and Creme, it’s the bakery down the street,” Jane answered, making a left turn at the intersection.

Kit gasped. “Oh I love their chocolate chip muffins, they’re always so warm.”

Chuckling, Aragon added, “Well we can get you one when we’re there.”

“Really! Jane never lets me eat chocolate in the morning,” Kit leaned forward in her seat. Jane shot Aragon a subtle glare, causing the woman to mouth sorry in response.

But it made Kitty happy, and that was the goal of the outing, so Jane relented. “Just this once, okay Kit? And don’t let us catch you telling Anne about this, or else she’ll never shut up about it.”

“My lips are sealed,” Kitty mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

As Jane pulled up to the shop, she groaned when she realized the only parking spot was on the other side of the street. “Alright, you girls hop out and go wait in line while I park. Catherine if you could order for me-”

“I know your order by heart,” Kit cut in, a proud smile on her face.

The two older queens felt smiles grow on their faces without any permission. “Well then, I think Kitty’s got it down pretty well,” Aragon shrugged.

Getting out of the car, Aragon poked her head back in. “I’ll be inside in just a moment, you go ahead with Kitty,” Jane assured.

“You be quick Seymour,” Aragon ordered in a faux-stern voice. Rolling her eyes goodnaturedly, Jane pulled away from the side of the shop and drove to the end of the street. Making a legal u-turn, Jane found the open parking spot on the opposite side of the road and pulled into it. Getting out of the car, Jane made sure to lock the doors before moving to cross the street.

She froze, making eye contact with a man right next to the bakery. It was undeniably Henry, regardless of the different clothes he was wearing. He wasn’t moving, just watching Jane from where he stood. Cold fear gripped Jane’s heart as she was unable to move. Jane blinked multiple times, hoping it was only a trick of the light, but Henry remained where he stood. Taking a step forward, Jane was about to cross the street when a large bus passed in front of her.

The queen jumped back, jerking herself back into reality. Looking at her surroundings, Jane let the noises of the busy street filter back into her mind. Returning her gaze to where Henry was standing, Jane wasn’t surprised to see him gone. Why would he stick around longer than to make sure Jane knew he was watching? Henry was playing a psychological game, and Jane wouldn’t fall for it this time. Not when she had Kit and Catherine, Anna and Cathy and Anne to protect. 

The bell above the bakery door rang when Jane stepped in the shop, her entrance greeted with a “Welcome!” from the peppy barista. Shooting a smile to the barista, Jane made her way over to Kit and Aragon who were seated at a corner table. Kit was happily munching on a giant chocolate muffin with a frappuccino in front of her. Normally Jane would disapprove of all the sugar, but today was an exception. In front of Catherine was a simple cup of coffee with milk and some sugar.

And at the empty third seat for Jane was her order, exactly as she always got it. It consisted of one of the bakery’s shortbread cookies cut in the shape of a heart with cinnamon sprinkled over the top. There was a piping mug of chamomile tea resting next to it, the tea bag still in the drink, just as Jane always had it. Even though Jane had come to the bakery with Kitty multiple times before, it still warmed her heart that the teen remembered her order.

That warmth disappeared when Jane once again reminded herself of the encounter outside the bakery. Clearly, Henry was trying to mess with them, get to them mentally instead of physically. Withholding information from the queens could cause a lot of conflict but, Jane reasoned, it would cause more harm to tell them than to hide it. She couldn’t let the fear return to Kit’s eyes, the fear she and Aragon were trying so hard to ward off. Opening her mouth, Jane attempted to speak, but couldn’t get any words out.

“Jane, is there something on your mind?” Aragon asked, her grin warm and inviting.

There was no way Jane could ruin this picture perfect moment with Kit and Aragon by telling them what she had seen. Instead, Jane shook her head and sat down in the empty seat. “Not at all. Just glad we’re all here together.”

On the other side of town, Anna wasn’t on her morning jog through the park. Anyone who was used to seeing her wouldn’t suspect anything amiss, she had probably just cut her run short. But Anna would have to postpone her morning run for the time being because she had more important places to be. Instead of being out in the park, reveling in the sunlight, Anna was plotting. Plotting every possible way to kill Henry before he could even make another move on Kit or any of the queens.

She had no idea how she would do it, but Anna was going to track Henry down and get to him first. She couldn’t tell any of the other queens for fear they would disapprove or in case Henry was listening (there was so little privacy in the modern world), so Anna only had the companionship of her own mind. 

Her first order of business was signing up at a local boxing arena in order to get fighting experience. It wasn’t the most desirable sport, and Anna much preferred running and weightlifting - non contact sports, thank you very much - but she was willing to do anything in order to increase her chances of winning a fight against Henry.

One of the first things her instructors taught her was that it wasn’t being the biggest or the strongest that made you the winner, it was your skill and endurance. Anna would never be stronger than Henry, that was a given, but if she trained enough, her hope was that she would be able to take him down when she found him. He was slow and fat and probably didn’t have any experience. Anna was young and lean and training, the odds were against him.

In the days since Kit’s confession, Anna had been training as hard and as often as she could, gearing up for a fight that could come at any time. It was on this particular morning when an instructor pulled her to the side. The woman had a high ponytail and must’ve been in her mid twenties, but her muscles were ripped and she clearly had experience. Unable to remember her name, Anna resorted to referring to the woman as “you”, trying to get the conversation over so she could get back to training. “Why are you doing this?” the instructor asked simply, no lead up or extra commentary.

“What do you mean?”

The woman watched a bead of sweat drip down Anna’s forehead. “Why are you working so hard? You showed up less than a week ago and you’ve already advanced faster than anyone else here. So what’s your motivation?”

“I don’t have to tell you that,” Anna said defensively, flexing her hands in the tape wrapped around them.

The woman shrugged, unbothered. “True, you don’t. But sometimes sharing motivations makes it easier to see reason. To pace yourself. The best solution isn’t always working as hard as possible all the time.”

Anna scoffed and ignored the advice. “Yeah, well not all of us have time. If you’ll excuse me,” Anna pushed past the woman and moved back to her punching bag.

“Is it someone in your life?” The woman called. Anna stopped with her fist in the air, about to swing at the bag. “So it is,” the instructor continued, noticing Anna’s hesitation.

“Stop trying to get into my head, okay, it’s not gonna work,” Anna hissed.

The instructor rolled her tongue in her mouth before making a clicking sound. “Maybe you’re trying to protect someone you care about?” Once again, Anna hesitated and cursed herself when the woman’s eyes lit up. “You’re trying to be their night in shining armor.”

“You have no right to violate my privacy -”

“But why? What is threatening them that you feel the need to work so hard?” The woman kept pushing deeper and deeper, hitting all of Anna’s soft spots.

Clenching her fists, Anna swung at the punching bag and watched it go careening in the opposite direction. It wasn’t the most impressive punch, but the amount of anger behind it drained Anna. “Henry. His name is Henry and he has a lot of history with us.”

“Ex lover?”

Anna chuckled ruefully. “Yeah, something like that.” Breathing in deeply, Anna steadied the punching bag. “She’s dealing with a lot, and if I let him get to her again, I’m afraid she’ll break and it’ll be all my fault.”

“Again.” It wasn’t a question, more like an invitation to elaborate.

It wasn’t that Anna didn’t realize she was confiding in a stranger, it was more the comfort of knowing that she could say anything and the instructor would have no idea. “It was my fault the first time, it can’t be my fault the second time. I - I…”

“You love her too much to see her get hurt.”

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

On a regular basis, Cathy tended to be pretty concerned about Anne. With her constant shenanigans and chaotic nature, it was hard not to be worried about what trouble the beheaded queen would get into next. But right now, Cathy wasn’t concerned because of what Anne was doing. No, she was concerned about what Anne wasn’t doing. Ever since Anne had gone to her room after talking with Cathy a few nights back, she had been practically AWOL.

Sure, Anne came down to snag food, but then she would immediately disappear back into her room in the attic. Cathy had seen her come from Kit’s room a day earlier, but the strange part was that Kit had been downstairs with Jane. Anne wasn’t making any sounds, but she didn’t seem to be in any kind of distress or slump.

In conclusion, something was wrong with Anne Boleyn, but for the life of her, Cathy Parr could not figure it out. That’s why when Cathy heard someone leaving later that day, she decided to investigate, praying it was Anne. Sure enough, luck was on her side and Anne’s coat was missing from its hanger.

Noting that she was the only person in the house, Cathy realized she had free reign to satisfy her curiosity. Acknowledging how dangerous her curiosity could be, Cathy threw caution out the window and headed directly for Anne’s room. She needed something, any kind of clue as to why Anne was suddenly acting as if the rest of the queens were infected with some deadly disease. Or maybe she’s the one infected, Cathy thought to herself. 

Stopping in front of Anne’s door, Cathy felt her conscience kick in. Is it really okay to violate Anne’s privacy like this? Cathy knew the answer was no and if Anne found out, she’d be pissed, but in that moment Cathy knew she’d never again have this opportunity to - for lack of a better word - snoop.

Opening the door, Cathy made her way into the room. Clothes were strewn about mingled with trash and food crumbs from Anne’s meals. The bed was unmade (of course) and there was an assortment of random items (kazoos, teddy bears, a pair of heelys) in every corner. There was a nightstand next to Anne’s bed, the only thing untouched by all the chaos. Wading through the mass of junk on the floor until she stood in front of the desk, Cathy observed her prize.

It was a journal. That was the last thing Cathy expected Anne to have, but she picked it up anyway. Her reading glasses were resting on her head, so Cathy pulled them down and opened the book. The first page was a doodle (it was surprisingly intricate, Cathy noted) of… herself? The sketch was clearly Cathy, her arm above her head as she slept on the queens’ couch, her glasses askew. Blushing, Cathy read the caption of the picture. Gold star for Cathy Parr, an angel I see.

Frantically, flipping the page, Cathy tried to smother the erratic beating of her heart. She could squeal later about Anne’s drawing. The next page was another sketch, this time of Kitty with a water gun. Cathy remembered the incident over the summer when the queens were out having a water war. The teams were Cathy, Anne, and Anna versus Aragon, Jane, and Kitty. The fight had gotten down to the very end when Kit sprayed Anne, only for Anna to secure a win for her team by taking down Kit. The memory brought a warm feeling to Cathy’s chest, making her smile with a nostalgic fondness.

Flipping further into the book, Cathy came across some of the more recent entries. These ones didn’t make any sense. They were nonsense words like “Double” and “Envelope” and “Instructions”. There was no rhyme or reason to any of the words, and if anything would have been coherent, Anne had scribbled it out with a black pen.

The final page that was written in made more sense. He made it easy for me, a five step plan. I don’t want to help him or do anything he says but Kitty… I went into her room the other day. I was hoping I could find any cameras or wiretaps (I looked it up, they’re easy to get), but there were none. The only choice I have is following instructions. Especially those from the envelope.

Eyes widening as a chill overcame her body, Cathy opened the drawer of the nightstand. Inside was a single, white envelope with Anne’s name on it. Reaching for it, Cathy’s hand closed around the edge when the door downstairs opened with a loud bang!

Releasing the envelope, Cathy closed the drawer and practically sprinted out of Anne’s room. On her way downstairs, Cathy did her best to compose herself so to appear that she had not been snooping. Hanging her coat by the door was Anne, an unmarked bag in her hands. “Hi Anne,” Cathy said, eyeing the bag.

Unaware, Anne gave Cathy a smile that normally would make the girl swoon. “Hi Cathy,” she replied, walking over to the other queen. Anne lifted a hand and Cathy frowned in confusion, only to be answered as Anne carefully pushed the forgotten reading glasses up her nose where they had been slipping off.

“Are you going to hide from us again?” Cathy asked, channeling her passive aggressiveness.

Sighing Anne gave the other queen a forced smile. “I guess I am,” she said before disappearing back to her room. 

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

Tag List: @obliviousasheck

@theatergirl06

[kitanoko]

In which Todoroki and Kaminari ‘studied’

Note: HEY EVERYONE, I haven’t written in a long time (a year at least?) but I want to dedicate this to @selephi and @foxxhunter44 ‘cas they’ve always been very supportive of my fanfics and heck I hope y’all enjoy this!

This hit, that ice cold, Michelle Pfeiffer that white gold… This one for them hood girls, Them good girls straight masterpieces~

Todoroki tapped along with the rhythm unexpectedly, unaware of where the upbeat song had seeped from until he saw from the corner of his tired eyes that the boy studying beside him was grooving with headphones on. The music was loud enough for Todoroki to wonder if it would prove any hearing damage to the electric hero chilling beside him, leg propped up.

“Are you even studying?” Todoroki had his cheek pressed against his hand, eyes fixated on the biochem notes Midoriya had kindly lent him. The candy wrappers and biscuit crumbs lay grubbily on the scratched up table and he took a refreshing sip of his ice cold coconut water.

Kaminari didn’t hear him, head swaying like he was at the club. Spreading his notes further across the table, Todoroki shook his head in disapproval. He had hoped his classmate would at least try to focus on the upcoming exam. He didn’t have to come after all; he was perfectly appeased with reviewing his lessons in the quiet midst of his room. It was really Kaminari who had asked him to join.

Todoroki nudged him with his elbow after emptying his drink. The blond boy unwantedly pulled down his red headphones and curved a brow, steadily shooting Todoroki a questionable look.

“Yah?”

Kaminari had the audacity to give him a nonchalant one-word response, seriously?

Todoroki gave a grunt, meeting his golden irises with discontent.

“As much as I’d like to stay here and watch you throw your grades away,” Todoroki started, rough hands gathering his notes, “I’m gonna go take a breather.”

Come to think of it, if he left now, he’d probably be able to squeeze in time for the weekly hero special on channel 9 which Midoriya and Iida were for sure going to be watching in the common room. He could already see his best friends’ eyes unblinking towards the screen and letting out the occasional laugh. Not to mention the scent of Yaoyorozu’s relaxing lavender tea tickling under his nose as she walked by in her comfy robe (yes he’s imagining this too)…her soft hair flowing like in her latest commercial and…

Wait Todoroki Shouto. Just stop. Stop whatever you’re thinking.

“Aww, come on Todoroki, don’t be a bum! I was studying I swear!”

That snapped the duo quirk boy back to his senses.

Todoroki peered at him at the corner of his eyes, hands readying to stuff the papers back into his backpack.

“…were you though?”

Kaminari sheepishly scratched the nape of his neck, legs easing back down onto the wooden floor. Hearing his friend’s challenging tone, he quickly said, “I mean…I WILL be studying. Dude, I totally invited you mainly just to like…hang out and you know…get to know each other. This biochem stuff is easy peasy. I could do the test in my sleep.”

“Big words Kaminari. Last time I heard, Jirou hit you on the head ‘cause you couldn’t even draw a water molecule.”

“You sure that was me bruh?”

“Yes. ‘Cause I saw your paper and you drew two oxygens linked to a hydrogen.”

The electric hero stuck his tongue out. “My bad. Silly mistake really…..ANYWAYS” The blond waved his hand in attempt to change topics, “….let’s have some bro time.”

Todoroki didn’t like the sound of that.

“And what does that entail?” He questioned, bending his knee onto his seat.

Kaminari flicked a piece of loose hair.

“Okay question 1.”

“Wha—“

“Who would you choose out of the girls in our class?”

“Choose for what scenario.”

Kaminari smirked. “As a girlfriend bruh. Girlfriend.”

Todoroki shrugged. “Probably Yaoyorozu. Why?”

At that the fire and ice user felt a shook on the ground as Kaminari slumped flat, rolling in laughter.

“OH MY GOD MINETA SO OWES ME 10 BUCKS. ”

The former stared blankly.

“Wasn’t that obvious, who else was I supposed to choose?” Todoroki tried again to shrug it off.

Kaminari’s eyes beamed, “Wait…” He fished out his phone, finger mischievously hovering over the red button, “Can I record this confession so I can broadcast it to all of UA. Not that it needs broadcasting though since anyone who doesn’t have grapes for brains know.”

Todoroki ran a hand through the whites of his hair before he reasoned. “Well, we met before during the recommendation exam. Then there’s the cavalry battle. And of course our fight against Aizawa. Plus, we worked quite well rescuing Bakugou. Yaoyorozu is the most logical choice.”

“Only you would explain that with ‘logic’.” Kaminari mocked and rested his chin against the cup of his hand, “There isn’t anything other than you two having that ‘bond’ that made you say Yaomomo’s name so fast?”

Todoroki actually gave it a thoughtful five seconds before coming up with, “Uh..her personality’s not bad and I wouldn’t doubt she’s the most intelligent student in UA.”

“And?”

“I really don’t know what else.”

“Bro, she’s nicknamed ‘Goddess’ …class B calls her ‘Queen’. Ya sure there isn’t even a slighttttt chance you’d say you’re also attracted to her face?”

Kaminari dragged the word rather mischievously, lips upturning into a cunning yet generous smile. It sent shivers down Todoroki’s spine and not in a pleasant manner. The latter stood up to put away the bunched up jacket that had slid down from the arm of a chair. Oh Thank God. It was something to distract him from saying the wrong words.

“Haven’t thought much about it.” He nonchalantly uttered, mouth parted in an exhale. He turned around wanting to say more when he noticed a noise.

Steady three knocks were heard behind Kaminari and he gestured for his friend to grab the door. What stood on the other side was the girl of topic playing with the ends of her hair which had been fixed straight and held with a bowtie clip above the right of her forehead. Her glassy doll eyes happily danced from Kaminari to Todoroki which seemed unusually fixated on her.

It was different. Nice. Ponytails on her were good too, no, it was great! But this was refreshing. Like seeing the sun rising just after thunderous rain. Okay that’s exaggerating. But heck, he liked it.

“Something on her face?” Kaminari asked and if Todoroki had eyes behind his head he’d be able to see his annoying grin again.

The duo quirk boy rolled his eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt Todoroki-san!” Yaoyorozu did a slight nod to Kaminari as well, “I was wondering if you two would like to enjoy some thumbprint cookies I made?”

At that the electric blond jumped over. Todoroki looked down from her rosy-cheeked smile and saw that indeed she had some baked good in her hands. Circular shortbread with an oval imprint in the middle filled with what looked like raspberry jam.

“That looks delicious Yaomomo!” Kaminari quickly grabbed a few and popped it into his mouth ignoring all common etiquette. But it was Kaminari so ‘etiquette’ didn’t compute to him.

The other two watched as he chewed, sweat starting to bead on his forehead while his jaw completely stopped moving. He also didn’t swallow.

Yaoyorozu frowned. “Is it…not good?”

Kaminari faked a chortle while his face folded into an ugly grimace.

“Ahw no! It zo ….yummmmmmy,” the blond had managed to cough out and nudged Todoroki with his elbows. His voice was obstructed by the mixture of cookie dough and jam that had sat on his tongue. Kaminari rubbed his tummy.

“YYuuummm,” he mumbled again.

The white and red haired boy wanted to roll his eyes again at the thought of how fake Kaminari’s acting was and noticed the girl in front of him slump in defeat, hands lowering the plate of cookies sadly. Todoroki immediately extended a hand to receive the plate and took one of her creations to taste.

Oh god. Now he knew why Kaminari had that expression.

Yaoyorozu’s eyes glinted and sparkled with anticipation, watching his every move.

“So? Todoroki-san?”

Should he…say something?

A whole 20 seconds had passed before he turned to give Kaminari an awkward look as if they could read each other’s minds.

Todoroki swallowed.

Man, it felt like sand and tasted like chalk. How he knew what chalk taste like he didn’t know. At least the jam was somewhat normal.

“It’s,” He swallowed again just to get rid of the aftertaste, “very well-done, Yaoyorozu.”

Good thing he usually had no expression ‘cause now was the best time to look neutral.

“Aww thank you!” The girl appeared zealous, white teeth beaming with her lovely façade. She pushed the rest into his hands. “Enjoy these then. And oh! They’re great with jasmine tea! I’ll head back out now! Can’t have Jirou and Ashido waiting.”

“Sure thanks,” Todoroki nodded in acknowledge and waved once as he watched her stroll-skip along the hall back to the elevators, the flutter of her flowery pajamas catching his attention.

Kaminari hurried to push the door to a close and spat out what looked like cookie sludge into the closest garbage can, some missing the target and ending up on the floor.

“Holy crap that was the worst decision I ever made. It tasted like dirt.”

Todoroki sent him a heated glare.

“Bro I know you were dying inside when you gulped that thing down too.” Kaminari’s gaze rested on the cookies in Todoroki’s hand, eyes narrowing as if they were poisonous.

“Well I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“You’re in too deep my man.”

Todoroki pretended to not understand what his friend was implying and started to open his tea cabinet.

“What are you doing dude.”

“Making jasmine tea as Yaoyorozu suggested.”

Kaminari could only facepalm and slumped back down onto his previous seat. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going to eat the rest of her cookies? I’ll help you flush them down the toilet okay?” Kaminari sent a wink. “And I’ll keep it a secret between us.”

Todoroki shook his head. “I feel like she made it with all her effort and I’m wasting that.” Tapping against the hot kettle that was beginning to bubble from the boiling water inside, the fire and ice user felt a small, appreciative tug along the curve of his lips.

“And seeing her this happy? That was worth it.”

He turned around noticing Kaminari’s sudden quietness and found him leaning forward with his phone in hand, his right thumb just releasing from the red button on his screen.

“—ANNNNDDD DONE. RECORDED!”

Todoroki froze as he dropped what he was doing

“What.”

“I’ve just recorded the oh-so-great Todoroki admit his crush like a giddy teenager.”

“I was not giddy.”

“Oh, were you not? Okay sorry, I’ll say ‘lovesick’.”

Todoroki took a step. His aura begin to build, even Kaminari could feel the heat emitting from his left side. A wave of warmth gradually began to waft over and the blond quickly stood in defence.

“Yo, calm down bro, alright I won’t show anybody.”

“Then delete it.”

The blond crossed his arms, teasingly wiggled a finger. “Sorry man, this is hard evidence.”

“Fine.”

Kaminari felt uneasy. The boy in front of him loosened his expression so quickly that it felt almost ominous. Something was up.

“You give up quick dude.”

Todoroki’s shoulders slacked and continued to brew his tea, taking it in stride. “It’s nothing. Just remembered that I have a picture of you crying because you didn’t know how to write Jirou a confession letter.”

Kaminari’s jaw fell open in a big ‘O’.

“WAIT WAIT WAIT HOLLLL UP BRUH.” The electric user stumbled in his steps as he shook Todoroki from side to side. “YOU HAVE WHAT? SHOW ME.”

The former scrambled to find Todoroki’s phone and the duo quirk hero fished it out of his pocket and began to swipe the screen a few times. A smirk finally formed on his chapped lips.

“Yeah. Still here. I forgot to delete it after Bakugou sent it to me.”

“BAKUGOU?!” Kaminari pulled it off Todoroki’s hands. An embarrassing picture of him, eyes red, holding a piece of paper and pen in hand in the corner of the dorm lobby surfaced on the 6 inch screen.

“Guess we’re even then.” Todoroki shrugged. “You can keep that and I’ll keep this.”

Kaminari fell onto his knees in defeat.

“NO PLEASE.”

“Too late.”

“I’ll delete your recording! Come on!”

“Nope.” Todoroki took a heavy sip of his tea as the aroma tickled his nostrils. He grabbed a cookie. Mmm, it was better with tea for sure. Or was this what petty-ness tasted like?

His heterochromic eyes fixated on Kaminari’s frantic expression as he instinctively pulled it back into his pocket.

“To be honest, I don’t even care if you showed what I said to other people. It was a comment I’m not ashamed of and heck, everyone knew I voted for her for class president. It’s not shocking I’d support her in any way I can.”

Kaminari finally came to his senses and forced a sigh.

“Fine. You win. But I swear to all that is holy, Todoroki Shouto, if you EVER show Jirou this I will not hesitate.”

Todoroki almost outright laughed. “Okay, okay.”

“Bro date over now.” Kaminari slogged out the door, sounding unappeased, “Goodnight.”

“Oh, already?” Todoroki teased.

Kaminari’s head swung low as he head towards the hallway and Todoroki mumbled a short ‘Mm.’ before helping him close the door.

Good thing he didn’t mention that Bakugou had sent it to Ashido as well, Todoroki thought, or else he’d worry if Kaminari could even sleep tonight.