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His voice makes me manic

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Happy late bday denki :3

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HE CALLED HIMSELF KACCHAN??? GODDAMNIT😭

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°🥂⋆.ೃ 🎂. mañanitas

transl. an traditional early morning birthday serenade

2:59 am. you kick your shoes off, still running through the door with one arm out your hero costume and frantically rifling through your bag, looking for your phone. you dial and let the tone ring as you peel off the rest of the costume, grabbing the nearest shirt and collapsing to sprawl on your bed with a huff. 

“gooood morning,” you hum into the receiver, letting your head hang off the bed. 

“it is now,” denki’s angelic laugh fills your ears, warming your tired body all the way through. your eyes flick to the clock beside your bed. 3 o’clock in the morning, on the dot — which is exactly midnight for denki.

you roll over to lay on your stomach, feet kicked up behind you like you’re in an old rom-com. “i’m wearing your shirt,” you inform him, devious smile growing when you hear him chuckle on the other end.  

“well, don’t i feel special,” he jokes, and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“shut up,” you laugh, unable to help yourself. his joy is infectious. “it’s not that kind of call.”

“no?” he muses. “what kind of call is it then?”

“the ‘happy birthday’ kind,” you reply, absolutely beaming. 

“you didn’t have to wait up for me.” he sounds almost bashful and you so wish he was there so you could squeeze his cheeks and beat the self-doubt out of him with kisses. 

instead, you just hum. “just got off patrol actually, but i would have either way. how does twenty-six feel?”

he laughs that sweet, angelic laugh again and your cuteness aggression is so bad you think you might die. “like kacchan and sho might finally let me join the big kids’ club.”

you snort a little laugh in response before heaving a long sigh as you fall into silence. “i wish you were here,” you say, voice bordering on a whine. “i want to give you a big, fat birthday kiss.”

“i know, baby,” he murmurs. “believe me, that’s all i want too.”

“why did you have to work?” you drop your head into the comforter to muffle the loud groan you let out. 

“i told you already,” denki laughs warmly, “if i work this weekend, i get extra time off next weekend — so you can take me on that trip you’ve been so secretive about.”

you grumble again, pouting petulantly. “i hate our jobs.”

“no, you don’t,” he chuckles. 

“okay fine, i don’t. but i hate the commission for making you work on your birthday!” 

he hums sweetly, amused by your outrage on his behalf. “i know, i know. it does suck not having you here with me, but it’ll make it that much better when i finally get to see you again and kiss that little pout off your lips.”

you make another little ‘hmph’ before changing the subject. “any special plans today, birthday boy?”

“besides missing and yearning for my favorite person ever?” 

you giggle. “yes, besides that.”

“i’ll probably swing by some cafe or something for breakfast if i have time.”

you wrinkle your nose affectionately. “cute. you still at the same hotel?”

“yeah, why?”

“package coming for you later,” you reply with a grin. “wanted you to have something to open on your actual day.”

“aw, you didn’t have to!” denki sounds half-embarrassed but you know he’s probably giggling and kicking his feet like a schoolboy. 

you smile at the thought. “call me tonight when you open it, yeah?”

“i will.”

the line is quiet for a long moment with a soft, warm silence before you audibly yawn (against your better efforts). 

denki huffs a soft chuckle. “you should get to bed.”

“‘m not tired,” you reply stubbornly. 

“go to bed!” denki insists playfully, soft laugh accompanying. 

“five more minutes!”

his laugh settles into a content exhale of a sigh, sheets rustling on the line as he lays back in bed. “okay, five more minutes.” 

you pass your five minutes chatting idly about your days, the infectious joy in denki’s voice keeping your exhaustion at bay for now. when it’s finally time to hang up, you whine and complain some more. 

“goodniiight,” denki sings, laughing at your grousing. you know he likes it though, that you fight to stay awake just to talk to him. makes him feel special. “i’ll call you later, promise.”

you heave one last huff before leaving a loud kiss on the receiver. “mwah. i love you, happy birthday, goodniiiight!”

dividers by saradika-graphics — happy birthday to the boy, my absolute favorite ever!!! i love denki more than i can probably ever properly convey, he’s very special to me. he needs more love so please celebrate him today!! 🎂🎊

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Gethsemane by Sleep Token as a My Hero Academia Opening/Ending Song

since TikTok won't let me post the full video without getting muted

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My older teens main 4 transportation headcanons, because I don't want to put them in cars! (Butters is there he's just on the ground taking the pic)

more details below 👇

Stan’s quad:

Stan’s in an anti-car phase, regardless whether they’re gas fuelled or electric. Randy gifted Stan a Tegridy Farms hybrid quad for his 16th birthday. While a bit reluctant at first, Stan grew to like it; he soon spray-painted it black so he could shamelessly go to school with it, but the paint quickly started chipping away. He still uses it regurlarly, whether to go to the South Park city center or other surrounding towns and places (except Denver.)

Kyle’s bike:

It was gifted to him by his parents when he was 15. Kyle really enjoys riding a bike, not only for the freedom he feels riding it, but also to wind down and spend some energy before and after school to calm himself down. It’s an ATB so he often rides it into the forest. (His parents tried to teach him how to drive but his current anger issues and impulses make him a bad driver, while his anxiety makes it way too stressful for him. No car before he gets all that under control.)

Kenny’s motorcycle:

At around 15, Kenny enterprized the project of fixing an old, rusty motorbike that he found. With the help of his friends, as well as first and foremost, Youtube, Kenny managed to come up with a decent result in several months, and he took great pleasure in customizing it afterwards. He rides it all the time—or at least during the months he can afford the gas.

Eric’s ride hitching:

Eric owns a bicycle that he’s often too lazy to ride. He once decided he’d start taking Liane’s car to school but bypassed the driving lessons or license and ended up crashing the car—which currently keeps him away from them. He will usually hitch rides from Kenny, who usually takes him along but sometimes refuses, saying that a heavier load uses more gas, in which case Eric generally manages to get Kyle to let him on. When really there is no other choice, he comes along with his own bike, or goes to school and other places by bus (or gets Butters (?) or Liane to drive him.)

Maybe it's a european thing, but I'm just not too fond of putting 16yo kids in cars and I find smaller vehicles much more fun to deal with 🤗

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I love when babies in manga and anime look like actual babies, cause babies do have wrinkles and puffy skin in a way when born. I just wanna hold them all and give them kisses

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SUPPORT DEPARMENT!READER x KATSUKI BAKUGOU ༄ cw for the story: angst, situationship, enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits, bakugo is a bitch and needs a hug, so does reader, fluff, eventual smut, suggestive, cussing. A/N: this chapter is mainly exposition, sorry! i will get into their dynamic in the next part <3 enjoy!

just like everyone else, you grew up fantasizing to be a hero one day. you watched all might all day and night on tv, admired local heroes in front of you, even joined a couple forums online that were all about heroes.

you dreamed of being one, of going to UA, working alongside teens across the country that have the same goals and aspirations as you was intoxicating to think about.

soon enough, your quirk developed, you had your dads quirk, you could take away heat from the air around you and channel it into the tips of your fingers. it wasn’t flashy, it wasn’t big, but you felt like if you trained hard enough, you could make it to the hero course.

your parents had split when you were young, and you were on good terms with both of them so the summer you had developed your quirk, you visited your dad for 2 months.

he was a mechanic, and he lived out in the outskirts of the city, and he was very.. rugged.

you learned quickly that slacking off was not allowed at your dads house. you weren’t allowed to sleep in, you had to wake up before the sun and help him work on cars but soon you got a taste for it. you had grown a love for cars, engineering, welding, etc.

by the end of summer, you were getting up on your own, enjoying seeing the sunrise as you guys went to the junkyard, coming out covered in grime and sweat, grabbing scraps for your new love of inventions.

of course you still were aspiring to be a hero, but you also really loved inventing new things, so you didn’t know what path to choose and your quirk was perfect for welding.

so you talked to the counselor at your middle school, wondering what career paths you could choose that would involve both saving lives and heroes and engineering.

“have you heard of the support department?”

support department?

you searched it up online,

“Students in this department focus on developing support equipment that help heroes out on the battlefield. With a workspace stocked to the brim with all sorts of special tools, the department provides an unmatched creative environment.”

you smiled at what your screen displayed.

it was perfect, so your new dream was to enroll into UA, join the support department, and open your own agency that’d help heroes build the equipment of their dreams that help them fight crime.

so that’s what you studied. you were in your first year of junior school (7th grade) when you realized this, so the next two summers you went back to your dad’s to work on cars and inventions, but during the school year, you trained. you trained really fucking hard. you did not play about getting into UA and chasing your dreams. if you only lived once, you were gonna live it right.

so you changed your schedule, mirroring the one you had during summer. you’d wake up every morning, go to the nearest junk yard which was a mile away from your house. you brought your wagon, and lugged scrap after scrap into it, dragging it back home.

your mom had made your own personal workshop in the basement, knowing how much it was your passion. you’d spend hours on hours down there, and not to toot your own horn but you were insane at engineering. if you could think it, you could build it.

your creativity was through the roof, you started taking commissions and fixing up cars by yourself, earning a bit of money to buy yourself an at home gym to train even more.

before you knew it, it was time for ‘entrance exams’, except for you, for support department students, you had to submit an invention, an original piece that was unique to you, easy to use, but difficult to make.

you spent months on your invention, your admissions essay, and your recommendations. you were overachieving, but you didn’t care.

when you got the letter in the mail, your heart thumped and thumped, your hands started to shake, barely seeing where the letter was sent from, all you could see was the UA stamp.

“mom! mom! it’s the letter!” you called out, setting it on the dining table as you saw your mom excitedly rush out of the bathroom, half her hair in hair rollers. she knew how hard you worked and she was proud of you if you got in or not.

“what are you doing? open it up!” she said, smiling ear to ear. you could swear she was more excited than you.

you picked up the letter, opening up the envelope and taking it out when a little button looking thing dropped out. you furrowed your brows, moving to pick it up before a hologram flickered on. you and your mom were both stunned, taking a step back before getting met with the face of all might, your childhood hero and inspiration, welcoming you to UA, and to their support department.

once the words reached your ears, you and your mom jumped around, hugging each other, beaming from ear to ear. you got in! you were gonna be the best of the best, and you weren’t going to let anyone get in your way.

you then read the letter in the envelope. you got a full ride scholarship off your inventions and recommendations alone. you felt like you could cry, and you did. happy tears streamed down your face. all this hard work? absolutely worth it, and you weren’t gonna slack off just because you got in.

further down the letter, it said they were going to be enforcing dorms earlier than usual. something about teaching future heroes about responsibility before becoming an adult, blah blah blah.. all you could think about was how you got in all by yourself, you won, and getting into UA will go amazing on your resumes and help you open your own support agency in the future.

this was your first step to your dream.

in the months before moving into the school, you obviously kept up your practice, but allowed yourself to relax a bit, you no longer had the anxiety and weight on your shoulders of trying to enroll, so instead of 5AM, you woke up at 7AM instead. you let yourself hang out with friends more, go out more, and spend some of that cash that had piled up through commissions and a job that you had taken up at a local coffee shop as a barista when you thought you had to pay for UA on your own. doing this, you learned about the world outside of your basement or the junkyard, and grew an appreciation for clothes and shopping.

the day to move in crept closer and closer, you started packing your clothes, using 2 suitcases. i mean you were gonna be there for a year, and obviously you were gonna visit home, but you didn’t wanna travel back and forth for clothes. you packed up everything you could, and used moving trucks to deliver furniture once the day did roll around.

walking up to the dorm building was scary. a chill ran down your spine as you stared at the huge building that was shaped like a U. it was smaller than the school, obviously, but still big. general, hero, support, and management students were all mixed into 2 buildings. the school didn’t want to separate students, it saved money and was under the guise that it’d help you make friends with whoever, despite was class you got into.

what they didn’t state was the hidden hierarchy inside the buildings. after a month, you soon learned that some hero students looked down at the rest, most general students looked down at support department students, and management was a weird mix of egotistical assholes and shy people who knew that they were in the ‘lowest’ class. lowest meaning easiest to get into, which wasn’t really true. you felt like you could’ve easily gotten into the general course, but whatever. you didn’t care about that.

back to the dorms, other people were passing you by when someone bumped into your shoulder. it was a tall guy, muscular, and weird blonde spiky hair.

“watch it, extra.” the stranger growled at you.

you were taken aback, annoyed at the audacity. “you bumped into me, weirdo.” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

you thought this was a well-mannered school, guess not. you brushed it off though, lugging your suitcases into the building. you were met with a big common area, there was even a small kitchen with a cafeteria. you smiled, it was modern, fancy, nothing like anything you’ve seen before.

you rolled into the elevator, going to the second highest level, where your dorm was.

you were nervous. still. you didn’t know who you would meet, if you would make friends, if people would like you.. but all you needed to focus on was unpacking.

ding.

the elevator doors opened, and you walked out, strolling down the long hallway until you got to the end. your room was at the very end, it had more open windows, letting a LOT of natural light in. you knew you had to get curtains though, since the windows were so big. you walked in and gasped. your very own living space. obviously you’d have to decorate and make it home, but all in due time.

you walked in, closing the door behind you, looking at your view. you could see the city from here, which wasn’t a huge drive, 10 minutes, 20 maybe if the traffic is bad, which it usually is.

on your other window was pure forest, you could see beautiful mountains. it was stunning, breath-taking view.

you put on some calm music and unpacked, humming to yourself and you hung your clothes, folded pants, ironed your uniforms, and placed your usual tools and books you brought in the shelves and drawers that the school had provided.

you were exhausted by the end of the day, you watched the sunset dip under the mountains and you closed the curtains you had installed earlier as you changed and got into bed and slept for a couple hours before waking up in the middle of the night.

thump. thump. thump.

were those.. drums? music? who the hell was playing such a loud instrument so late at night?

you needed your sleep. you could not be tired on your first day so you got up and out of your dorm, stepping down the hallway a bit. the noise was coming from your neighbor. seriously? am i gonna have to deal with this for 3 years? you thought as you knocked politely on their door.

no answer.

you knocked louder.

no answer, and you could hear their music getting louder, almost as if they were trying to tune out the knocking.

you started to bang on their door before you heard the music stop and angry stomps to the door before it swung open.

a handsome face met you, but it was tainted with a scowl, a disgusted and annoyed look.

wait a minute.. you recognized that ugly hair. it was the same dude that bumped into you earlier. a flicker of recognition flashed on your face before you furrowed your brows.

“the hell do you want?” he growled down at you.

“mind turning down your music? to 0, maybe?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at his audacity (again.).

“mind getting some earplugs, bitch?”

you gasped, shocked a bit.

“some people are trying to get their beauty sleep.”

“yeah, you look like you really need it.” he chuckled in your face, his eyes roaming your disheveled form.

you groaned, “if anyone needs it, it’s you.”

“yeah? well go fuck yourself.” he said before slamming the door in your face. you groaned harder, shuffling back to your room and slamming the door shut as well. you got into bed, trying to cover your ears with pillows to block out the obnoxious drums from next door.

you eventually willed yourself to go to sleep.

maybe tomorrow will be better?

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i #know that deku & bakugo care a lot about each other because i #think about it all the time, but then i #see a panel of them caring about each other and ougouhhhhh the realization hits again <3 bakugo sobbing in front of multiple people in a doorway where everyone can see him because he can't contain his empathy for his childhood friend

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IM FUCKING OVULATINGGGG

Sitting in his lap would probably fix me

Ngl I would be bouncing on it all day

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Gifs of Daryl Dixon that no one asked for but I made anyway (10/?)

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this man knows EXACTLY what he's doing...

gifs from @rheedus

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ao3 turns 15 today

reblog if youre older than ao3

(there's a lot of people asking about this, but the legal age to use social media is 13, except in few countries. so yes, there are people here under 15)

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can you pls do denki x katsuki’s little sister. like she’s a year younger but is smart enough to be in katsuki’s grade. she’s in class 1A as well and acts just like katsuki, just a little more girly. denki is begging katsuki to help him win reader over

acquaintances to lovers pls

“Voltage Warning: Heart May Overheat”

Denki Kaminari x Reader (Bakugou’s Little Sister)

Romantic Comedy | U.A. Era | Acquaintances-to-Lovers | Light Fluff | Katsuki = Mad™

---

If Bakugou Katsuki is a grenade, you’re the landmine someone painted pink.

Same explosive power. Same short fuse. But you smile a little more before you blow someone up.

You joined Class 1-A just after the entrance exam results were announced—one year younger than your brother but already smart and combat-savvy enough to skip a grade.

And the moment you stomped into the classroom with that same murderous scowl and death-glare eyes, everyone knew you were related.

“Wait,” Kaminari had whispered to Sero. “That’s Bakugou 2.0… but, like, if she knew what eyeliner was?”

You didn’t say much at first. You didn’t need to.

Your combat scores spoke for you. So did the time you told Mineta you’d “tear his limbs off like string cheese” if he looked at you weird again.

That was when Denki knew.

He was doomed.

---

It started slow.

Denki swore it was just a small, respectful crush. Nothing serious. Just a little awe. A little fear. A little I-want-to-hold-your-hand-but-I-might-die.

But it didn’t go away.

Not when you called him “Spark Plug” after he accidentally electrocuted himself during training.

Not when you gave him your extra charger cord like it wasn’t the most romantic thing he’d ever experienced.

Not when you punched a villain in the teeth and then turned around to ask him, smiling with blood on your cheek, “You good?”

He was not good. He was falling.

---

So he did the unthinkable.

He asked Bakugou for help.

“You what?” Katsuki said flatly, like he hadn’t heard right.

“I just—okay—listen,” Denki said, already sweating. “I think your sister is… y’know. Cool. Hot. Hilarious. Terrifying. I’m dying. Help.”

Katsuki blinked slowly. “You’ve got a death wish, Dunce Face.”

“I’ve accepted that.”

“And you think I’m gonna help you get with my sister?”

“You helped Kirishima with his physics homework!”

“That’s physics. This is prison time.”

---

And yet…

Two days later, you walked into class to find a neatly wrapped snack box on your desk with a lightning bolt doodle and a sticky note:

"Eat this and maybe don’t kill me today? :) - D.K."

You didn’t smile.

But you didn’t not smile either.

---

Over the next few weeks, things got weird.

You started getting little gifts. Spare wires. Cute bandaids. A custom hair tie that matched your hero costume.

You’d catch Denki watching you across the room, and when you glared, he’d panic, fry himself, and fall out of his chair.

Kirishima called it “charm.”

Katsuki called it “secondhand embarrassment.”

You started calling it “interesting.”

---

One day, during partner drills, you got paired up. You tossed your hair back, grinned at him, and cracked your knuckles.

“Go easy on me, Sparky,” you said.

Denki nodded like his life depended on it. “I would literally throw myself in front of a train for you.”

You blinked.

Then smirked.

“Cute.”

He was so red he nearly short-circuited.

---

You didn’t tell anyone the exact moment you started liking him back.

Maybe it was when he defended you to some second-years who said you were “just riding Bakugou’s coattails.”

Maybe it was when he offered to recharge your broken phone by holding it, like some weird electric boyfriend-charger hybrid.

Maybe it was when you saw how he looked at you like you were made of fireworks—not because you were dangerous, but because you lit up the whole damn room.

---

When you finally kissed him—behind the gym, after sparring practice, when he accidentally called you “shockingly beautiful” and looked ready to die—you didn’t warn him.

You just grabbed his collar, yanked him down, and kissed him like you meant it.

Denki blinked. “Wait, am I dead?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You wanna be?”

“No, no, I’m good, I’m very alive, and very—”

You kissed him again.

---

When Katsuki found out, he sighed, dragged a hand down his face, and grumbled:

“Just don’t make me an uncle before graduation.”

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i’m ovulating and i need daryl dixon right now

i mean seriously, just look at this man 🤭