#maybe I'll just wait 'til it comes on sale

[rednite-dork]

Didn't think I'd buy Hogwarts Legacy twice, because wtf that's just stupid, but after hearing all the mods for PC (and ones that could possibly come), here I am, heavily considering it.

[freesia-writes]

Dates with Gregor: Cooking For You

This date's idea comes to us courtesy of Fireandbubbles on Ao3!!

"He absolutely has to cook for her. This is Gregor, after all. Maybe she starts out trying to do it, but is miserable at it, so he takes over? I don't really know, but one thing I'm sure of is that Gregor still knows how to make food. Even if it's not Big Bongo."

Gregor x Reader: A Series of Dates - CT-9902 - Wattpad

No content warnings (sweet kisses, that's it). Word Count: 3.2k (I get carried away when it comes to food) ;)

Open to requests for future dates! <3 Story below the cut. FANART BY @gregorsmissingarmor!! :D :D :D

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You'd been having the longest day at work when the door opened and an unexpected guest walked in. It had been the final stretch -- the last twenty or so minutes that always seemed to crawl by as long as the previous two hours before it. But suddenly, everything was looking up, as Gregor strolled in, his bright smile accompanied by the cheerful jingle of the bell. 

"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked, smiling right back at him, noting his button-up linen shirt that was just loose enough to make him look like a breezy island local and just tight enough to show off his undeniably well-built frame. It was a sky-blue color that stood out in stark contrast to his richly dark golden skin, and he was actually wearing pants today, also linen, which made him look more formal and distinguished than you'd yet seen. 

"Yes! I'm looking for... ah! That one!" he said cheerfully, pointing you out as you stood from your desk. You sidled up to reception, leaning on the outside of the tall counter that framed her entire area, feeling disproportionately flattered (and a little smug) to have such a tall drink of water looking for you, and you could feel the eyes of your coworkers on your back. 

"Hi you," you said, feeling particularly warm and fuzzy after the intimate vulnerability of your last encounter. The sensation of his gentle kisses was still fresh in your mind and brought on a new wave of tingles every time you thought about it. It had been extra hard to get work done today.

"Hello beautiful!" Gregor chimed, and you were beyond giddy to realize that he had eyes for only you, despite a few others in your office being noticeably attractive, in your estimation. "I was hoping to snag you as soon as you got off work; I hope you don't have dinner plans yet?"

"Nope! You caught me early! What were you thinking?" 

"Do you like surprises or would you rather I tell you?" he said with the classic eyebrow arch and a wink. The receptionist leaned back in her seat, and out of the corner of your eye you could see her intently watching the entire exchange. 

"Heh... I'm not normally one for surprises... but I'll let you keep your secrets if it's fun for you," you decided, subtly smoothing the front of your blazer. 

"Perfect! It's a date. Can I wait here til you're free?" 

"Sure!" came the answer from your manager, startling you from behind as you hadn't heard her approach. She was taller than you, a bold and confident woman with an air of authority, someone who always seemed to get what she wanted. Somehow, she always made you feel self-conscious and nervous, despite the fact that you'd been working here for years now. "Would you like to take a seat here? Or if you're interested in some of the beautiful homes we have for sale, you can come take a look in my office."

You felt yourself bristling at her forwardness. Was she seriously hitting on someone who was here to pick you up for a date? You wanted to quit right then and there but instead delighted yourself with a little mental image of clobbering her across the head with the stapler on the receptionist desk next to you... until Gregor's reply broke you out of your daydream. 

"Aha!" he giggled nervously, "Thank you! This seat looks perfect!" He backed up a few steps and plopped into one of the cushy green chairs near the windows at the front, not giving her a second glance but sending an adorable wink your way. You smiled, heading back to your desk and pointedly avoiding your manager's gaze as she also returned to her corner office. As you took a seat, Gregor suddenly popped out of his chair and dropped into the one next to it, so he could see you around the decorative plants that were between you. You began typing at light speed to finish the contract you'd been working on, looking up every so often and occasionally catching his eye, sending another burst of excitement through you. 

And just like that, it was time to leave, and everyone was packing their things. Giving your coworkers a few cordial goodbyes, you try to hide the bounce in your step as you took Gregor's arm and headed out the door. 

"So what do you have planned tonight, Captain?" you said playfully, hoping it sounded better to him than it did to you, but you were always self-critical. He was back to being a ray of sunshine again, and he gave you both a little giggle and a salute.

"I'm going to feed you, my lady!"

"That makes it sound like I'm an animal being led out to pasture," you laughed. 

"Oh no!" he said, looking legitimately concerned for a moment, running a hand through his hair, "No no -- you are a guest of honor being served hand and foot on this fine evening!" he rephrased, giving a cheerful nod to a street vendor as you passed. 

"I was just kidding," you reassured, giving his arm a little squeeze before lowering your hand to entwine your fingers with his. Another burst of tingles, and another giggle from him, and you were feeling on top of the world. The two of you continued walking to a slightly different part of the city that sat lower on the mountain than your house; it was full of apartments at first, but then gave way to slightly more space between homes that looked more like little cottages of various bright colors. There was more greenery and foliage here as well, and the two of you suddenly found yourselves entering a beautiful community garden.

It was filled with large planter boxes, strung up with trellises and wires for vines and plants of every shape and size to spread out across. There was an impossible variety of vegetables and fruits growing bountifully on trees and shrubs. The fragrance was otherworldly -- a blend of herbs and flowers that was mouthwateringly complimentary. 

"You are taking me out to pasture!!" you accused, laughing again and pushing Gregor slightly. He stumbled with a giggle, waggling his finger at you, and pointed to a cottage on the far side of the garden that you'd almost missed as it was entirely overgrown with vines and surrounded by trees. Now you were intrigued... Was it a hidden restaurant? Or were you going to forage for your dinner? He gave your hand a squeeze as the two of you stepped onto the porch, and when he opened the screen door, he paused before continuing. 

"This is the community garden for this side of the island, and this is the cottage for its caretaker. In exchange for the labor, he gets to live here and enjoy this beautiful place!" Gregor explained enthusiastically. "And I've heard he's an amazing cook!" he finished with a wink.

Confusion replaced the curiosity as you considered the thought of some random gardener cooking for the two of you, but you forced yourself to keep an optimistic attitude as he swung the door open. It was dark inside, until he ventured in and flipped a few light switches, and it was then that the realization hit you. 

"You live here?!" you asked, dumbfounded and unable to hide it.

"Home sweet home!" Gregor chirped, flipping a few more light switches in the kitchen and living room. As the warm glow of the lamps illuminated the rooms, you took it all in. It did not look like any sort of setting for a military commando, and as he lumbered about, tidying up a bit while humming to himself, you smiled at the contrast. The cottage was a bit old, and had clearly been through a few owners, each of which had left their own unique mark behind. It was a fun jumble of colors, and not one single chair, couch, lamp, or wall art matched another. 

The main room housed a cozy little sitting area with two large wingback chairs that faced a wood stove, off to the right from the entryway which had a simple bench and some scattered shoes underneath it. Further in sat the kitchen, with a low-hanging lamp that Gregor clearly had encountered a few times, as he was careful to move around it. It had brightly-tiled counters and appliances that looked a couple decades old, including a metal pour-over caf maker that you'd only seen in old holos. A small hallway led off toward the left, likely to the refresher and bedroom, and the other corner of the main room had a small round table with two knobby wooden chairs. The entire place exuded charm, as though it were the joint effort of generations of gardeners who clearly loved the place. 

"This is amazing," you said quietly, moving in more to admire the old photos on the wall. Some were of people, some were paintings, but all had intricate frames made of various materials. Gregor was banging around in the kitchen, digging in a cupboard, and popped his head up.

"Did you say something?" he asked.

"Just that this place is amazing!" you repeated, venturing further in to join him in the kitchen. "And you're cooking for us?" 

"Yes ma'am!" he said, diving back into the cupboard for a moment before reappearing with a triumphant "Ha!". In his hand was a rumpled bunch of fabric, and as he shook it out, it took the shape of an apron. It was a dingy white, with tiny blue flowers all over it, and had ruffled lace all along the trim. With a mischievous grin and an eyebrow waggle in your direction, he pulled it over his head and tied it behind his back. It was a glorious and comical sight: a muscular hunk with voluptuous pecs and delts, and a snatched little waist, all highlighted by a flowery vintage apron. 

"Try to restrain yourself," Gregor attempted to purr, but squeaked a bit on the first word which made you both giggle. 

"I can't promise anything," you replied, drawing closer to lean against the counter. "Can I help with anything?" 

"Absolutely not! You are the guest of honor. Well, you can do one thing -- allow me to serve you the drink of your preference? We've got a bottle of fizz, some sparkling water, a honey wine, or freshly-squeezed meiloorun juice."

"Honey wine sounds like a treat!" And it was in your hand a mere moment later. 

The minutes melted by as Gregor's counters slowly filled with a beautiful array of vegetables and herbs, which he meticulously cut and prepared as the two of you chatted. You leaned against the counter for a while until you decided to perch on top of it, waiting til his back was turned to test its strength and try to hop up in the least ungraceful fashion you could manage. The counters were wide, and the wall-mounted cabinets provided a convenient backrest. 

An indescribably fragrant sauce simmered on the stove, bubbling contentedly at the perfect temperature, filling the room with its mouthwatering scent. A small dish of crackers and cheese was set on the counter next to you as Gregor puttered about, chopping greens and carefully painting the sauce over some thick pieces of fish. When everything was neatly arranged on a tray, he slipped it into the oven and began pulling some fruits out of the refrigerator. Conversation ebbed and flowed as he mixed them all into some kind of compote, which took the place on the stove, shifting the scent to a deliciously sweet, fruity one that made your mouth water. 

He added a splash of this, a dash of that, and gave it a final stir, lifting the spoon to his mouth to give it a taste. With an enthusiastic "mmm!", he dipped the spoon back in and gave it a swirl before picking it up again, holding his hand under it and carefully coming over to you. 

"Fancy a taste?"

You felt a little self-conscious, but his unabashed glee at his creation was too much to resist. So with a nod and a smile, you leaned forward to take a sip off the spoon as daintily as you could, and Gregor's response of a little happy dance at your approval made your heart swell in your chest. He set the table with a motley array of random silverware, each in a different style, as well as a few plates and bowls, all of which were a unique pattern. It was a charming view. 

An adorable little ding from the oven was answered with a cheerful little "whoo!" from Gregor, bringing a wider smile to your face. Within a few minutes, as the two of you finished the topic of conversation, the small table was filled with the final pieces: fresh, warm bread wrapped in a little basket, a tray of salmon fillets on a bed of roasted vegetables, and a fresh fruit compote to be poured over ice cream. He brought the bottle of honey wine, as well as a pitcher of ice water, and beckoned for you to join. As you sat, he scooted his chair a little closer to yours, gently leaning his shoulder against yours.

"I'm really glad you're here," he said quietly, still with a little squeak. 

"Me too," you replied, leaning into the touch and feeling your heart skip a beat, "And thank you so much! This looks incredible! How did you learn to cook like this?" 

"Well, gardening only takes so much time, and before I met you, I had a lot more free time on my hands. Plus, I learned a few things when I was working for Borkus..."

"Borkus?" you laughed, choking on the sip of water you'd been taking, "What a name!"

"He had the character to match," Gregor giggled, "Quite the grump, from what I remember."

"Well... I'm incredibly grateful. This looks delicious. Thank you so much," you said earnestly, meeting his eyes with admiration. His cheeks grew slightly red, but his characteristic eyebrow arch accompanied his reply.

"Don't thank me til you try it!" 

* * * 

It was everything you could have dreamed of, and more... The flavors, the textures, the scents... not to mention the company! You shared more about your past, opening up about your childhood, your dating experience (or lack thereof), your insecurities, and your dreams for the future. Gregor listened to all of it with the disproportionately rewarding enthusiasm that accompanied so much of his endeavors, smiling widely, giggling unabashedly, and asking questions with genuine interest. 

The warm food and delicious wine resulted in both of you leaning back in your chairs, unbelievably content with full bellies and good spirits. After taking a moment to bask in the glory of it all, Gregor stood up to clear the plates while you finished your glass before bringing more plates to him in the kitchen. Content to work in silence for a few minutes, you continued clearing the table while he organized the dishes in the kitchen, finally settling in to wash them by hand in a sink full of soapy, hot water. You came up behind him, laughing that he was still wearing his apron, and snuck your arms around his waist, leaning your cheek against the back of his shoulder. 

"If there's nothing else I can do, I figured I'd just be here to support you," you said, hoping it came across as confident and foxy but also kind of just laughing it off.

"I'll be washing dishes all night if this is what I get!" he exclaimed with a little chuckle. 

But it only took a few minutes, and he was drying his hands on a towel before tossing it over his shoulder. How could he make something so simple look so effortlessly attractive? That yearning within was growing yet again, and before he could turn back to face you, you grabbed the strings of his apron, pulling them to release the neat little bow he had tied them into. He whirled around with a grin, eyebrow doing its work again, and you laughed a bit sheepishly. 

"Just thought you might need some help..." you attempted.

"So very supportive..." he mused, taking a step closer and making your heart rate increase steadily. "Go ahead, finish the job!" he invited, laughing and bowing his head. You stretched up to pull the apron off over his head, accidentally messing his hair up a bit and leaving it scattered across his forehead instead of smoothly slicked back. You mumbled an apology but he brushed it aside, running his hand through his hair to return it to the general direction it was in. Tossing the apron onto the counter, you slipped your hands around his waist, leaning into him as rested against the counter behind him. 

"I can't thank you enough," you said, eyes finding his. "You are more delightful every time I get to see you." 

He smiled, tilting his head a little bit and lifting a hand to your cheek, resting the other on your hip. "The pleasure is all mine, you beautiful thing you," he crooned, leaning in toward your face. You thought he was headed for your lips, and had slightly opened your mouth in anticipation, but felt a little silly once he placed a sweet little kiss on the tip of your nose. But he didn't seem to notice, and lowered his hand from your cheek to your shoulder as he continued talking, "The fact that you keep agreeing to see me, the mess that I am, is more meaningful than you know." 

"We're all messes, Gregor," you said softly, squeezing him affectionately.

"Well I'll be your mess as long as you'll have me," he giggled, lifting both hands to cup your face. This time, his mouth met yours, sending a thrill of excitement through you immediately. His lips fit effortlessly between yours, and the soft yet firm, gentle yet intent sensation was electrifying. He pulled you close against him, parting momentarily for a quick and adorable gasp of air before diving in for another long, blissful kiss. When he retreated, he smiled breathlessly and had an irresistible expression on his face -- a mixture of giddy delight and a darker, more intense hint of passion that you found intoxicating. It was something you looked forward to exploring. 

;)

[paleparearchive]

SummerTime Melancholy ~ The Night Flowers I Look Up At With You

Giotto's Scenario

Chapter 1 ( 1 - 2 - 3 )

(1/5)

Giotto: Oh no, I only got a few days 'til the event…

(It's an event sponsored by a salon I often deal with. I wanna do what I'm asked to, but I wanna do it well.)

I think it’s ‘cause of the quantity, since new pieces are brought in every day.

(The sales pitch for this painting contest is that a critique by a working artist must be attached to each entry.)

It's nice to see so many aspiring young painters out there. I wanna go straight to that enthusiasm.

(However, no matter how many days go by, the number of entries that have yet to be judged is still a problem…)

I wonder if I'm spendin' too much time judgin' one work…

(But a critique that only points out the obvious might nip young sprouts in the bud. I wanna praise and develop their good points.)

–In this work, the rough sketch is somethin’ to work on, but the colors are nice and the theme’s original… Also, oh–

Salon owner: Hey, Giotto. I came to check on you. How’s it going? How’s the works’ review proceeding?

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

(2/5)

Giotto: Ah, greetings…

Salon owner: Wait, you're not done at all! What's this all about? This is…

Just a quick glance at the work and a quick comment! You're a successful artist, you can do it, right?

Giotto: Right, but a coarse critique could nip young sprouts in the bud… I wanna develop the good points of the artist through their painting. They can draw this much now. If they continue like this, they'll get better. And yet, I can't let my critique cause ‘em to break their brush–

Salon owner: Hey hey, what are you talking about! More entries will be coming in the future, you know? I don't want you to spend so much time on one that you won’t be able to look at the others! Everyone is waiting for your critiques.

Giotto: H-Huuh…

(... W-Will there be more of ‘em?)

Salon owner: Now that you understand, I’ll ask you to do it more quickly next time! I'll be back to check up on you!

Giotto: … I'll try my best.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

(3/5)

Giotto: (Nothin' decreases as the days go by, only work tasks pile up.)

–I wanna paint a picture… How long haven't I been paintin’?

(As an artist, I'm happy to be in the public eye and to be relied upon. However, I feel like I’m forgettin’ myself as a painter. I need some time to face myself.)

I serve as a judge for competitions and show up at various painting events. I wonder if I will be able to go easy on my job soon…

Salon owner: –Giotto, is this a good time?

Giotto: Ah, yes?

(Ugh. I'm afraid I'm gonna get another scolding 'bout the progress of the critique.)

If it’s 'bout the reviews, I'm still workin’ on 'em–

Salon owner: No, that's not what I’m talking about today. I need you to perform at the noon part of the event.

Giotto: Ya mean the live painting?

Salon owner: Exactly. There will be a fireworks display at night, but I'd like a successful painter like you to make the noon session a great success. I've also asked you to be a judge for the painting competition, so it’s just right, yeah?

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

(4/5)

Giotto: I’m sorry, but I have other work to do as well, so I–

Salon owner: Huh!? Don't tell me you're going to turn it down!? I thought you would've accepted the offer without a second thought… I've also asked Raffaello to be your live painting partner.

Giotto: Raffaello?

(That guy also shows up in a lot of places, it must be tough for him…)

Salon owner: Well, don't be in such a hurry to give me an answer. You have a day to think about it.

Giotto: H-Huh…

Salon owner: I expect to hear a positive answer the next time I come back. Well then…

Giotto: (Even if he told me to think ‘bout it, what can I do?)

Hmm… I’m plannin’ on turnin’ it down, maybe I should consult with Raffaello directly?

(It sounds like he's been gettin' calls from everywhere, maybe he can give me advice with a similar situation.)

For now, I’ll just get today’s work done. I’m gonna make it in time for the event!

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

(5/5)

Raffaello: … Sigh.

Giotto: Raffaellooo, ya there?

Raffaello: ! Giotto-san, welcome. Do you need something from me?

Giotto: Yeah. I’ve got somethin' I need to talk to ya ‘bout, can ya spare me some time?

Raffaello: You want to talk to me? … Actually– no.

Giotto: Oh? What’s wrong?

(Somethin' seems off here. Could it be something's botherin' Raffaello too?)

What’s troublin' ya? If you've got somethin' stuck in your chest, I'm here to listen!

Raffaello: Ah, well… That is right. I do not feel comfortable talking about it here, so can we go somewhere else?

Giotto: Oh? Yeah, fine for me. I'd also appreciate it if we could sit back and relax, instead of standin' around. Since we’re here, why don't we go out for a drink?

Raffaello: Yes, that would be nice. Then, how about the bar?

Giotto: Okay. Then I'll look for a place and make a reservation for a table. Why don't we meet up directly at the bar?

Raffaello: Of course. Then, the time–

[denticulate-blooms]

Edit: Screw it, I'm keeping it going til I hit the bank around 3pm ET tomorrow July 3, lets keep this torch lit through the darkness and get this goal met! (And no I am not copying Mishas "YARD SALE" shenanigans [affectionate].)

Oh man, I am blown away and humbled by people's generosity. Rosie's Lemonade stand where all proceeds will go to #MishaCollins #Deming efforts in #Ukraine through http://donorbox.org/collins_demining was able to raise 103$(But wait theres more!) 45$ came from our neighbors, several of whom were happy to hear about the fundraiser and take a Ukranian flag with the above URL written on it, watching kids get interested in ways to make then world a better place was especially gratifying. 61$ came from people both friends and internet strangers who are now friends in my eyes (Emily, Audrey, Michael, Soraya and Amanda) who all bought "virtual lemonades" from Rosie which I offered to match 5$ for any donation receipt, ya'll really came through so if we add my 25$ to this I'm just going to round it up and say you lovely people collectively raised 135$ to help make the world a better, safer place. I'm gonna buy myself a whole gallon, this 100°f+ was brutal, ice packs abounded but watching Rosie embrace kindness without the expectation of reward is heart-rendingly beautiful (she *is* getting a special present though!) and so worth the heat. To her, just having the lemonade stand and helping people made her Tooth Fairy wish come true. Makes me feel like we're doing something right as parents. I also want to thank my steadfast husband without whom we could never have pulled this off. Feeling like the luckiest wife, mom, friend and neighbor on the planet right now! I'll post the receipt of donation after we deposit the cash portion tomorrow (so many of ya'll still use pennies!!). Thankful. Exhausted. Heat-stroke? Maybe...but Happy. #SlavaUkraini Misha Collins

[theamazingdalet]

i want..................a nintendo switch......................... S O badly

[katsukikitten]

Wholesome Frat AU, Clearly aged up, college au, main characters are Bakugou, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro, Mina, and of course you my dear reader. Sexual themes, mentions of drugs and booze through out.

AHEM

Chapter 1

Denki lies upside down off his bed, staring at his phone when another invite to a party comes through. It's from a classmate he shares notes with and one of the few non toxic dudes on campus. A smile forms on his face, his fingers ready to fly across the screen to confirm his Friday night to be golden and one to remember. 

Or maybe wish to remember as alcohol and maybe some weed numb his senses. 

But then the location comes through, a frat house that's notorious for ignorance and low key rape culture. He turns it down claiming to study and sighs. Staring at his shared four walls from the top bunk. 

"What's going on with you? No one wants you to keep their bed warm tonight?" Sero teases passing him up a beer before starting the next round of his game. Preferring to get buzzed and troll in Apex lobbies than find somewhere to be tonight.  

Their phones buzz at the same time, Kirishima coming through on the group chat. 

Big Red 🦈 : Any plans tonight boys?

Boomboi 💣 : Fuck off, busy. 

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Apex

Zaptos ⚡: got invited to a party but location is sus af. You bro? 

Big Red 🦈 : Yikes 😬 Keepin some ladies safe. Don't like the scene here…

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Same

Zaptos ⚡: Same

Boomboi 💣:  FUCK OFF!

Denki and Sero both smirk at their phones before moving on with their Friday night with small talk of Instagram stories and received risque snapchats. As the beer fridge gets dwindles  their thoughts seem to grow. 

"Okay, listen. Here me out!" Denki says as if Sero would ever come off defensive. He finishes his eighth beer before continuing. 

"What if we started our own frat? Like...like a fucking wholesome one." 

"Dude not only does that sound impossible but what would we call ourselves?" Sero chuckles nursing his seventh beer. Denki pauses for a moment, trying to think of something, anything great. 

"Alpha Kappa Wholesome." He smiles, "Yea that's it!"

Sero laughs from his bottom bunk earning an angry faced Denki to put half of his body over the side of his bed. 

"I'm serious man! We could kick out whoever doesn't match our values. This college is supposed to be about making 'lasting connections' with fellow heroes! How are we supposed to do it when we are cooped up in our tiny dorm!" He gestures to their cramped room. A set of bunk beds and desks with their TV and shared dresser on the far wall. Sero looks around, this sure as hell wasn't like the dorms at UA that's for sure. 

"Okay well two people isn't enough for a frat, man." Sero lets the dream die before it can bloom, running a hand through his raven hair. Denki scrunches up his face before he remembers where his crush stays.  It's as if a light bulb lit up atop his upside down head. He jolts himself falling from the top bunk crashing into the empty beer bottle. They clink in protest but thankfully non break, just roll beneath the bottom bunk. 

"But there is a sorority of only four and we have four friends in our group!" 

Denki decides now is a good time to face time them. Kirishima answers first with a shout that he's gonna step outside, the roaring party and flashing lights die behind the shutting door while Bakugou is illuminated by the light of his screen glaring into the camera while a meek looking girl hides. 

"This better be fucking good." Bakugou growls. 

After an hour and a half of screaming Denki finally convinces Bakugou that sharing a house with the three of them as opposed to a rando was a much better idea. Reminding him that he had done it for three years in highschool surely he could last two more. He agrees but refuses to help argue with the dean meanwhile Kirishima is GLOWING with excitement over the idea formulating with his sober mind the best way to handle the notorious harsh Dean. 

It takes petitions, several meetings and almost til the spring break to come down to this, the final meeting. Bakugou, who has attended every meeting and true to his word has said nothing. Denki nervous as a sinner in church, Sero who's sweating bullets and Kirishima all sit in the room with the board, treasury and the Dean in a final meeting of sorts. 

Kirishima gulps and before he can explain the benefits the frat will have to offer the Dean stops him with a simple show of his hand. Taking a report from the secretary of treasury to look over, he just needed the monetary excuse to back up his favorite word. 

"No." He clears his throat, "Unfortunately funds are too low to be able to support another fraternity." The Dean leaves it at that not even bothering to offer they join something preexisting. 

Three of the four men accept defeat, mentally communicating that they did a good job trying. But the fourth man dreamed of his own room, of his own space to do as he pleased. And all without threat of being charged with murder. Although the fourth man would never admit that the reason he spoke up wasn't totally about the room, it was the look of defeat, anguish on his friends faces that had the room heating up a degree or two and smelling heavily of boiling sugar. 

"Oi, toupee." The hot head let's his seat fall back to all fours, fixing the Dean a withering look, "You said something about not enough money huh?" 

The Dean swallows thickly carefully thinking out his next sentence. 

"Why, Yes its…." Bakugou interrupts before the Dean can even finish his thought. 

"Pretty sure I'm the reason this campus is gonna be swarming with fucking no name extras next year." Katsuki's smile widens as his hand pops, "If you deny this request with the money I'm making you then I'll participate in the university sports festival with another college's across my fucking chest." 

The Dean visibly sweats, Bakugou really was a hard student to land. His brash attitude and unapologetic behavior was popular among the younger generation bringing with it an influx of applicants and donations. It hadn't even been 24 hours since his announcement did it crash the admin and donation site. He panics, not even sure if there is any real estate available on or around campus in order for him to legally allow this fraternity to flourish. As if reading his mind the secretary of grounds offers him a file, an old run down home within a decent walking distance of the main campus. The Dean exhales the breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Let's not act so rash. It has just come to my attention that we have some extra funding to be able to purchase a place for you all…" He looks over the file, he hopes this is enough to placate the hot head, "But it will need some old fashioned sweat equity, if we can secure it. The town has been kind enough to offer us first dibs to real estate within a certain radius of campus and if they like our offer you hardworking men will have your 'Alpha Kappa Wholesome home." 

"They better like your offer." Is all Bakugou says before standing, "We get the keys in a month, got it?"

He doesn't give the Dean time to rebuttal, he just leaves while the other shocked three follow suit. It isn't until they are in the courtyard does their excitement hit them all at once.

"HOLY SHIT BAKUBRO ALWAYS COMING IN ON THE FUCKING KLUTCH!" Denki shouts, tackling Bakugou into a hug, Sero and then Kirishima wrap their arms around the yelling hot head who threatens to blow them up. 

"I owe you a fucking drink!" Kirishima shouts lifting the group and twirling them  

"OI OI OI SHITTY HAIR PUT ME DOWN!" 

After that promised drink and a month of waiting the four musketeers stand before their new home. The house is trashed, easily a short sale of a foreclosure as the rent went higher but their wages stayed low. The amount of work to make this place semi decent was going to be astronomical at best. 

Bakugou is thoroughly unimpressed, scoffing as Denki runs up the porch. The vision is clear in the electric blonde's head. The massive porch is clean, with a swing and some chairs, string lights hanging from the wooden ceiling while the half wrapped around, second story porch is draped in endless artificial star light cloaking the house in cozy warmth. 

Dneki opens the front door and plume of dust rushes out around him, the other two follow suit. Taking the steps two at a time as they rush into the house. Harsh garnet stares after them before glancing at their luggage. He decides to leave it all stepping inside. 

Their imaginations run rampant as they stand beneath the large archway to the main living room while Bakugou begins to second guess opening his mouth. That or getting more money from the Dean. Before displeasure can leave the hot head his friends turn to face him, their eyes shining and smiles stretched wide, wide enough it begins to hurt Bakugou's own cheeks. They encourage him to step into the home more, telling him what will go where. For a moment his smile is soft, tender as he looks at these three idiots seeing the bright side of everything before he steels back into his normal self.

"Oi! Quick acting all googly eyed. We've got a lot of work to do and a lot of fucking money to raise." 

The four friends spend majority of their spring term picking rooms and doing basic cleaning. Bringing only one of the two full bathrooms up to par, trying their best to keep up with the old big house. Even after all of them picked their rooms there were still three bedrooms and a den with a door left. They brain stormed adding recruits but Bakugou shot the idea down despite Sero being elected the president of the frat. 

Spring boils into summer, bringing with it the promise of cold hard cash. Bake sales and lunch deals thanks to Bakugou's cooking skills brought in a large amount of income, so did the odd jobs Kirishima, Denki, and Sero found themselves doing. Still they find themselves short.

"Shirtless carwash!" Denki announces earning a glare from Bakugou. Kirishima pipes up before the idea is blasted sky high. 

"Think of the money man. The community around here is soccer mom's and freshly graduated college kids and I don't know about yall but when I go for a run or hit up the corner store after a good run I'm being stared at." 

"That's a valid point Bakugou. I've seen how they flock to you for baked goods, they've been staring at your arms and eyes man." Sero adds voting yes to the idea making it three to one. 

Just as Kirishima said, woman and even some men, flock to the area for a car wash. Some even coming back twice in one day! The cash flow is good but still a bit lacking. Denki wipes the sweat from his brow as he wonders how they will get enough to be able to get decent light fixtures and a working fridge in the dorm. Let alone anything aside from a blown up mattress and folding chairs in the living room. He scrolls through his social media on his break and comes across the miracle he has been asking for. 

A lovely summer picture of four women in bikinis, three of them his housemates have lived with before. Mina Ashido, Jiro Kyoka,  Ochako Uraraka, and then there is the new woman, you.

But what makes the picture that much sweeter isn't even the content itself, no it's that gorgeous caption just beneath it. 

"BASIC BITCH CAR WASH! Help us raise money for an apartment so our sorority doesn't get disbanded!" 

An idea formulates in the electric blondes head so quickly he thinks sparks fly from his ears. A dangerous smile forms on Denki Kaminari's lips.