#Hopefully not though because the subject matter of those fics... *nervous laughter*

[whysamwhy123]

“Decide” for the wip ask thing!

Better late then never, so I'm finally getting to this now, thanks for sending this my way! As it happens, that word pops up in a lot of my WIPs, so brace yourself with a fuckton of snippets under the cut!

1)

(My most recent WIP and boy, is it a silly one. It's my flimsy excuse to write Fuckboy DG hitting on various members of the rosters, and striking out each time)

As he approaches her, Daniel tries to figure out what his opening line should be.

Hey, what's up, mommy? Your baby boy has arrived…

He’s one hundred percent sure that would work, obviously. But he decides to take a different approach.

2)

‘’You sure?’’

Hook’s back to squinting again. ‘’Why wouldn’t I be?’’

Orange decides to test his theory. ‘’I saw what’s going on with you and Brian.’’

Hook’s calm, I don’t give a shit demeanor breaks slightly. It’s only for a brief second, but Orange spots the glint in his eyes, the slight pursing of his lips, the tightening of his body language. He was right on the money.

‘’Yeah, it’s…whatever,’’ Hook says, trying to play it cool.

3)

‘’What is this?’’ he asks.

Hook wonders if that’s a trick question. His mind’s coming up blank though so he decides to answer literally. ‘’Uh. The sink?’’

‘’Oh, good, you know what that is,’’ Orange says. ‘’So, are you aware that most people use these things to clean dishes? Generally, after they’ve eaten and they’re all dirty, human beings will then wash them so that they can be used again. What a concept! Would you like to give it a try sometime?’’

(Sassy Bitch OC strikes again)

4)

‘’Bros before hoes,’’ Zay said, firm.

Daniel rolled his eyes. ‘’What, are we in high school?’’

‘’Nah, ‘cause you never had hoes in high school,’’ Zay grinned afterwards, earning himself a glare from Daniel.

Daniel decided not to correct Isiah and instead he looked back in Julia’s direction. God, she was so fucking hot. He had to have her - he just had to.

(I'm sure nothing bad could come of this. Nope, I'm sure nothing bad happens to Daniel in this fic, nothing whatsoever 🙂🙂🙂)

5)

(Disclaimer - Hook is high as a kite in this fic. Orange is not. Oh, the humanity...)

Orange decides to take a different approach. ‘’You know what would be really fun?’’

Hook legitimately gasps. ‘’What?!’’ he asks, looking up at him with those wide red eyes.

‘’If we went to bed. Right now.’’

Hook giggles. ‘’We are in bed…’’

‘’Then let’s get some sleep, huh?’’

Hook grins. ‘’Don’t wanna.’’

6)

Orange’s head slowly turns, his first movement since Hook dropped the bomb on him. Fear shoots ice through Hook’s veins. But when he meets his eyes, he doesn’t look mad. His face is weirdly neutral. But then the cracks start to show. A slight crease in his forehead. A grim, sad little glint in his eye. He opens his mouth but the only sound that comes out is a terse exhale. His mouth opens and closes a couple more times, as though he can’t decide what to say.

Hook braces himself for whatever’s about to happen.

(Uh oh, did Hook do something baaaaaaaad? Something he regrets? Something that would make his boyfriend upset?🙂🙂🙂)

7)

Eventually, Daniel decided he’d done enough, laid the groundwork as best as he could. So the next time he and Julia found themselves alone, he just straight up asked her if she wanted to head back to his hotel room later, after the show.

He didn’t know what he was expecting. But what Julia said in response - the request she made - left him completely stunned.

(This is, in fact, a different fic from the other Daniel/Julia snippet. But arguably both ideas are equally awful and embarrassing on my part 😬)

[august-anon]

could i request number 1 (claws) with ler!virgil and lee!logan? love your fics btw

Ahh, this is so late, I am so sorry! And thank you for being so patient and so sweet omg! Hope you enjoy this! 

(also, this is loosely connected to the other prompts from this prompt list, just like the others were)

(also also, I had the intro to this done and then my computer glitched and erased it all, and I couldn’t remember what I wrote so I wrote something totally different, so hopefully that’s still good lol)

Kitten’s Got Claws

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship(s): could be gen or romantic analogical, whatever you’re vibing with

Characters (lee/ler): Ler!Virgil/Lee!Logan

Word Count: 895 words

Summary: Virgil’s suspicious of Logan’s motives now that he’s started using Roman’s tickle spellbook as well. He figures he might as well be proactive and get the nerd, first.

[ao3 link]

——————————

Logan had used the spellbook against Patton, that much Virgil knew. He also knew how to trust his gut, and his gut was saying that now that Logan got a taste of the power of tickle spells, he wasn’t going to stop, and it was only a matter of time before Virgil became his target. They all would be subject to his experiments with the spells sooner or later.

Not that Virgil had a problem with that (and not that he’d ever admit to that), but he had to show Logan that he wasn’t just going to be taken down.

Or maybe he was just looking for an excuse to finally use the tickle spells himself, and he was too nervous to use them against Roman or Patton because they would stop at nothing to get him back. Logan generally was harder to provoke, he saw tickling as “childish and embarassing,” even though they all saw through those lies. 

Logan loved to play like that just as much as the rest of them, he was just even worse than Virgil at letting loose to have some silly fun.

Either way, Logan seemed to be less likely to be as ruthless when getting him back.

So Virgil marched into Roman’s room without knocking, ignored the indignant “hey”  from the princely side himself, and started flipping through the tickle spellbook.

“What, uh, what are you doing?” Roman asked nervously.

“Don’t worry,” Virgil hummed absentmindedly. “I’m not coming for you. Yet.”

Roman fell into a nervous silence after that. Virgil simply continued flipping through the spellbook for some long minutes, trying to decide what he wanted to try.

Master of Gargalesis. While the idea of a body transformation was horrifying (what if he forgot the detransformation words and was stuck like that forever? What if he said the transformation phrase wrong and horribly disfigured himself?), the idea of tortuous claws to dig into Logan’s ticklish spots was too tempting.

So he memorized the detransformation words (very carefully) and spoke the words to activate the spell aloud (very carefully), and watched in awe as his fingers transformed before him.

They grew long and into dull points (pointy enough to be tickly, but not enough to hurt). It looked a little weird, if Virgil was being honest, but not as horrifying as he had been worrying about. He nodded in satisfaction before walking to the door.

Only he couldn’t managed to open it with his new extremities.

“Uh, Roman?” He called quietly. “Can you, uh, get the door for me?”

Roman barked out a laugh and walked over to open the door. “Have fun, I want whoever you’re getting to be screaming loud enough with laughter that I can bask in it from here.”

Virgil snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, okay, Prince Weirdo.”

Virgil walked down the hall until he reached Logan’s door, knocking on it carefully, so as to not hurt himself or scrape off the paint with his new claws. Virgil heard movement from inside and quickly hid his hands behind his back (since the claws wouldn’t fit in his hoodie pockets), trying to look innocent.

“Yes?” Logan asked as he opened the door.

“I… have a question. Could I come in?”

“Of course,” Logan said easily as he stepped aside and let Virgil into the room. He shut the door behind them. “What can I help you with?”

“My question is…” Virgil said, unable to keep his devious grin hidden any longer. “How much do you think these would tickle?” He asked, pulling his hands out from behind his back.

Logan gasped and backed away, seeming to forget he could escape through the doorway that was previously next to him.

“Now, Virgil,” he stuttered, already smiling nervously, “let’s not be too hasty.”

Virgil wiggled his claws menacingly and stalked toward Logan. Logan yelped and tripped over his own feet, falling back onto the bed with Virgil jumping on after him.

“Why don’t we test them out?” He asked teasingly, relishing in the growing blush on Logan’s face.

“Wait, wait!”

Virgil shrugged. “Nah.”

Logan instantly burst into loud laughter as Virgil targeted his sides, trying to dig in with just enough pressure to be devastatingly ticklish, but not enough to hurt. Logan thrashed around the bed so much that Virgil swung a leg over his thighs to straddle him.

“Well, I think they work rather nicely!” Virgil yelled brightly over Logan’s laughter.

Logan didn’t reply, all his energy being swallowed by laughing so desperately.

Virgil experimented with the claws a while longer. Scraping gently along Logan’s neck and ears with the pointed tips, digging them playfully into his stomach and sides, playing his ribs like the ticklish keyboard they were. At one point, he flipped around and went after Logan’s feet and digging in underneath and between his ticklish toes, leaving Logan howling and wailing in laughter.

“Mercy!” Logan eventually shrieked as Virgil dug the claws into the dips in his hips. “Vee, please!”

“Oh alright,” Virgil muttered playfully, like he was put out by the whole thing. He muttered the detransformation spell and collapsed on the bed next to Logan with a wide grin. “So, I take it they were rather tickly?”

Logan flushed and pushed lightly at Virgil’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

Virgil raised a teasing eyebrow. “Make me.”

Logan smirked at him. “You’ll regret that.”

[dreamykrimi]

Sweater Weather: Yuletide

Hello and Merry Christmas everyone! I’m so sincerely sorry that I don’t have the full fic for this ready in time for the holiday, but I’ll have it up as soon as I can. Here is a teaser, as apology and as a pick me up in celebration of Christmas. Hopefully you guys are still with me, here! 

A little background: this fic does not directly follow Cider Sweet. There is a fic in between tentatively titled To Be Okay (subject to change, because I’m fickle that way), that will deal with the aftermath of Shouto training with Endeavor, and that one is still in progress. I’ll be posting Yuletide in it’s completion before that one comes out, but I’ll reorder the series so that To Be Okay comes first. Until then, I hope you enjoy this!

There’s a muted quality that comes with the powdered layer of snow covering the ground. Everything is muffled and awash in pristine white. Shouto watches a pair of rabbits bound through the snow drifts, barely distinguishable in their winter coats, and considers calling Izuku over to see his friends.

Izuku stands near Asui a few yards away, both bundled up tightly in the most hideous sweaters he’s ever seen with scarves pulled up over their faces. It seems that Asui is also weak to the cold, and the two of them have decided to stick close. For the past ten minutes he’s been thinking of going over and offering himself up as human heater for the two of them, but if he leaves now Yaoyorozu will frown at him in that way that's meant to look disapproving but really just looks sad.

“A little higher please, Todoroki!” she pipes from the other side of the tree.

Shouto sighs, his breath a thick fog around him as he lifts the string of lights above his head for Yaoyorozu to grab. She teeters precariously from her perch on Kirishima’s shoulders, but Kirishima steadies her with a firm grip on her knees. Snow crunches under his boots and he kicks aside a chunk of ice as he circles the tree with them.

In the courtyard outside of the dorm and directly in the line of sight of the largest window in the common area, there is now an enormous pine tree, courtesy of one of the 1 B students with a plant based quirk. Class 1 A had been tasked with decorating it by some kid called Monoma, who had insisted that his class had done the truly difficult part and so it was only fair that- Shouto’s getting a headache just thinking about it.

He wonders again why they couldn’t have left this part to Shouji and Satou, easily the tallest of their classmates, but they had already been put to the task of baking sweets for the class. And besides that, Kirishima had jumped at the opportunity.

“We’re the Christmas tree appreciation club, bro! Our time has come!” he’d said.

Shouto just wants to go and hold his boyfriend’s hand already.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word bounces around his head and his stomach flips. Even a month later and it hasn’t worn off in the slightest; it still makes his heart skip with nervous energy and affection.

He looks again to where Izuku is, now with Uraraka pulling his hat down further over his ears and rubbing up and down Asui’s arms. Uraraka must have been kicked out of the kitchen, probably for rough housing with Bakugou if the batter clinging to her hair is anything to go by. Why are his closest friends the most ridiculous people he’s ever met? he thinks, with probably too much fondness. Asui seems happier for her presence, though. Barely peeking up over her scarf, he can see the girl’s cheeks flush more than the cold would account for as her eyes crinkle sweetly.

His eyes slide over to Izuku again, his own freckled cheeks pink in the chill. Shouto feels his heart speed up a beat. They are still painfully slow at everything, but since the snow set in they’ve both become much less shy about touching. It’s still hit or miss when their friends are around to see, but Izuku’s aversion to cold weather has driven him to curling into Shouto’s left side at every opportunity. It always takes him by surprise, how powerful the urge is to wrap his boyfriend up in warmth at the first sign of cold. He thinks he's in danger of becoming a doting partner. Izuku’s hands are always cold, no matter what he was doing before Shouto warms them, and it would worry him, it does worry him, except that means that Izuku seeks him out and puts those cold hands in Shouto’s pockets.

Izuku laughs at something Asui says, but his laughter breaks off as he shivers.

He could fix that right now, if he weren’t figuratively and literally tied to this ridiculously huge tree in the courtyard. The strings of lights not in his hands loop loosely around his shoulders and even down his leg, and while he had allowed it as a way to keep them from getting tangled, he may have underestimated the dual purpose of it. Now he can’t escape.

“Okay, I think we’re ready to test the next string. Ready Kami?”

Shouto pulls a face and squints in preparation.

Kaminari laughs at him and touches the end of one plug to his tongue, and Shouto is awash in light, every bulb around him glowing bright and blinding and goddamnit why is this tree so fucking big that it needs twelve strings of lights.

He hears more than sees Jirou slap Kaminari hard on the back of the head until he spits the plug out into the snow.

“Gross, Kaminari! Do you have to put it in your mouth?”

“Tastes good!” he defends, but it only earns him another shove.

Shouto blinks the spots from his vision now that the lights have gone dark around him. Jirou’s sweater is probably the least ugly of the bunch, especially next to the yellow tinsel disaster Kaminari wears. It’s a simple blue with a star of David made of silver glitter on the front and some kind of punk rock shoulder spikes that look horribly out of place. Still, it has nothing on the sweater he’d seen Sero wearing, the same blue but with a menorah hooked up with actual blinking lights poking through the fabric and bedazzled words loudly proclaiming “Lit.”

Shouto has a brief moment of wishful thinking for calm, tame, blue, even if it meant he had to wear flashing lights. Anything, really, anything but this god awful red and white striped monstrosity. It’s not even a little soft, and it’s been getting glitter on everything he touches since he’d been wrestled into it.

“I’m not even religious,” he’d complained under his breath when Uraraka had shoved it at him weeks ago.

“It’s a candy cane! Candy canes aren’t religious, they’re just delicious! I’m sure Deku would agree it’s fitting!”

He’s going to have to start building up an immunity to statements like that, or else Uraraka will soon have him doing her bidding at every turn. As though sensing his thoughts on her, Uraraka turns and flashes him a thumbs up, her own bedazzled sweater twinkling with every move. Shouto tries to show the full spectrum of his distaste in the small moment of contact before Izuku steals his attention.

It’s really not fair. The theme was ugly holiday sweaters, but Izuku just looks unfairly adorable. Even with layers and layers of shirts below it making him puffy and lumpy, the green blob his boyfriend makes in the snow makes him feel floaty and warm. He looks like a Christmas tree, green hair, green eyes, green sweater with every square inch covered in tinsel, glued on pom poms, or lights. It’s a mess, and it looks itchy as all hell, but Shouto wants to touch it anyway. Izuku gives him a shy wave with his mittens.

“Hey, peppermint prince! Can you stop ogling your boyfriend for a hot second? We need you over here,” Kirishima says as he makes his way around the tree, Yaomomo still balanced precariously on his shoulders. Shouto sighs steam and goes to follow, but Kaminari chooses that moment to grab up the plug again and too late, he feels the string of lights tighten around his leg.

His momentum carries him forward and he wobbles before careening downwards. Kirishima shoots a hand out to steady him, but he can’t support both him and Yaomomo, and so the three of them tumble in a heap into the thick blanket of snow at their feet. The crunch of snow beneath his cheek is a bitingly cold insult.

Shouto growls and grumbles but Kirishima’s laughter overwhelms the sound, and Yaomomo isn’t far behind. He sits up slowly, grumpy at the cold wet spots on his knees, and starts to detangle himself from the lights. Kirishima’s rough hand pats snow off of his back and Shouto returns the favor without much thought, tugging him back when Kirishima tries to get up before the largest clump is free of his spiked hair. Jirou is kneeling in the snow next to Yaomomo, and they’re grinning at each other.

Without meaning to, Shouto turns his head to find Izuku again, only to come nose to nose with the boy.

“Sorry Shouto,” he whispers for only him to hear. “I should have caught you.”

The cold feels very far away all of a sudden.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shouto mumbles with warm cheeks. Next to him, Kirishima rolls away and goes to rub his knuckles over Kaminari’s head for his recklessness.

Nimble fingers pull away at the last of the lights trapping him leg, and Izuku gives him a shy smile with slightly blue lips and Shouto is taken by the image of leaning forward and kissing them until they’re pink again and god sometimes he forgets just how very, very gay he is for freckles and curly hair and everything Izuku. The ugliest sweater in the world couldn’t keep his heart from racing in his chest when Izuku looks at him like that.

The moment comes to an abrupt halt when a snowball smacks Shouto directly in the face.

“S-sorry Todoroki! I was aiming for-”

Kaminari’s words are cut off with a choke as Izuku hurls a snowball almost dead on into the boy’s mouth.

“Ack! Brain freeze!”

Izuku makes a sinfully devious face of triumph that lasts exactly as long as it takes for Uraraka to toss one at the back of his head.

“Ah! Cold! Cold cold cold!” Izuku scrambles to rub at his neck, shivering violently when a chunk falls down the back of his sweater. Shouto chokes and Izuku turns to him with exaggerated betrayal. “Don’t laugh at me! I just defended your honor!”

“Aww Deku, you’re like his knight in shining armor!” Uraraka says whilst rolling another snowball.

Izuku goes very red, sputtering and waving his hands in denial and Shouto goes ahead and slaps the snowball out of the air before Uraraka can nail his boyfriend with snow again.

“Oi, timeout, we have to finish this before it gets too dark!”

“Can we please not be sitting in the snow now?” Jirou snarks, and Yaoyorozu lifts her easily to her feet.

Izuku gulps and nods vigorously, and they help each other to stand. Shouto warms his left hand and lets it sit on the back of Izuku’s neck for a moment, and the boy leans into him.

With their clothes just damp enough to let the cold in, they’re a little more careless about where they hang the lights, eager to go inside where the rest of the class is waiting with food and hot drinks. That’s not to say that there aren’t several more sneak attacks in the time it takes to finish, and Shouto is watching Izuku’s blue lips with increasing frequency.

Finally, Kaminari hooks up the extension cord, which is really three cords plus one extra long cord made by Yaomomo, and the tree lights up, a little lopsided perhaps, but it looks fine to him. He likes the way the colored lights look on the snow, how it sparkles, and how it bounces off of everything until the courtyard is bright enough for him to count the freckles on Izuku’s nose. His boyfriend is grinning excitedly next to him, and Shouto decides that it was worth it. He also decides that Christmas lights reflected in wide green eyes is one of his favorite things.

When they’re finally filing into the dorms they’re all just a little bit colder than they want to be, but the mood is light. It’s hard to be surly when every inch of the dorm building is decked in holiday decorations. It’s all a little over the top for him, but he appreciates how everyone’s smiles become a little bit brighter at the sight of colored ribbons and wreaths and hanging ornaments. His attention, however, sticks on Asui and Izuku, who are especially shivering.

Uraraka takes Asui’s hand and pulls her toward the kitchen where Satou is handing out hot cocoa, so that takes care of one of them. They fall to the back of the group and Shouto takes advantage of a brief moment out of sight to hold his hand out to Izuku. The boy looks up and gives him a grateful grin as he holds Shouto’s left hand in both of his. 

“Your lips are blue,” Shouto murmurs, not really sure what he’s offering, but offering just the same. Izuku looks shy when he presses cool lips to the back of Shouto’s warm hand, holds it there for a moment. Shouto’s spine tingles and he tries very hard not to let his hand over heat. 

As soon as Izuku moves to release him, Shouto brings Izuku’s hands up to his mouth and blows warm air over them until Izuku lets out a happy hum. Shouto leaves a warm kiss along his knuckles before he lets go.

Izuku giggles nervously and holds the hand to his chest.

“Hey lovebirds, better watch out for mistletoe!” Kirishima says over his shoulder as they enter the common room, which, now that he looks, is a veritable minefield of holly and mistletoe hung together indiscriminately. He resolves to stay out from under the doorways.

“You too, Kirishima-kun! Ashido-san was talking about trapping you and Kaachan tonight,” Izuku says and pokes at the center of Kirishima’s back, between two of the glittery poinsettia pinned to his red sweater.

“Oh, that’d go well.” He rolls his eyes.

Shouto says nothing, but Izuku laughs at the quirk of his eyebrows.

Satou comes through carrying a large tray of desserts, Shouji not far behind, each of his extra arms balancing a tray or basket. Suddenly it makes sense why Satou would ask for Shouji's help; he must be able to stir three things at once, and still have an arm to spare.  

As they settle in among their other classmates, Izuku excuses himself and hastily pulls Iida into a rapid fire conversation. Shouto lets him go knowing that he’ll make his way back eventually, and fills a plate with as many sweets as he deems polite, maybe a few more than is polite if he’s being honest, before retreating the the edge of the common space. He lets himself relax against a wall as he munches, and soon finds himself joined by Tokoyami. His sweater is dark and at first glance it seems non denominational, but looking closer it does have the word Yule across the shoulders and a star on the front. Or is it a pentagram?

Somehow it seems rude to ask.

They both seem to enjoy the bustle best at a slight distance, and the calm between them makes it easy to pick up the conversations going on around them- a guilty pleasure he knows Tokoyami shares from their occasional time in the library. At the snack table, Uraraka begrudgingly admits that Satou’s sugar cookies are just as good as hers, and Asui helps herself to some kind of treat that looks a little like a fried pancake with candied nuts. Shouto looks down at his own plate to study an identical one.

“They’re latkes,” Tokoyami says next to him.

Shouto makes a noise to acknowledge him and bites into it.

“Holy fuck,” he says softly.

If it was Izuku standing next to him, he might moan at the taste. But it’s Tokoyami, so he only nods appreciatively.

The room is steadily filling with students, baked goods, and uglier and uglier sweaters. It’s as though the entire student body had set out to find the greatest contrast to the glittering decorations covering every inch of the common area. Music fills the space between conversations and Shouto settles his back against the wall and chews on a sugar cookie shaped and iced to look like a candy cane. He frowns when he sees how well it matches his sweater and drops it back on his plate, picking up a jelly filled donut instead.

Bakugou enters the room like he owns it, as per usual, and without thought Shouto seeks out Izuku with his eyes. He’s a fair distance away and preoccupied with Iida near the (smaller, better decorated) christmas tree, and he lets him be. Instead he shifts his gaze to track Bakugou’s movement towards where Kaminari is mercilessly ribbing Kirishima for his flower covered sweater.

“Hey, ugly it may be but this baby got me a phone number!” Kirishima proudly holds out a slightly crumpled napkin, black numbers scrawled in bubbly handwriting.

“Whaaaha who gave you a number when you’re dressed like my granny’s garden?!”

“The girl behind the counter at the coffee shop on fourth!” He beams.

“This should be interesting,” Tokoyami mutters next to him. They both watch Bakugou’s approach, out of Kirishima’s and Kaminari’s line of sight as they bicker.

“Dude, you should give it to me!”

“What? No way!”

“Come on, you’re in love with Bakugou anyway!”

Tokoyami makes a sound like cooing laughter and Shouto hits the panic button in his mind.

“Shh! What the hell is wrong with you?” Kirishima hisses.

The human equivalent of sticking a fork in a toaster seems unrepentant, but then, he’s also blissfully unaware of the looming danger.

If he lights himself on fire right now, he could set off the fire alarm. It would ruin the holiday party, but his best friend would be alive and decidedly unexploded. Shouto watches carefully, ready to do just that, but Bakugou’s face doesn’t look any more murderous than usual. In fact it’s almost blank as he comes up right behind Kirishima and Kaminari, who are grappling over the napkin with the phone number written on it.

Uraraka, two feet away and chatting enthusiastically with Tsuyu pauses mid sentence, taking a little gasp of air as she closes her eyes. Without breaking stride Bakugou snatches the napkin from Kirishima’s outstretched hand and shoves it under Uraraka’s nose right in time to catch her sneeze.

“Achoo! Whew. Thanks, Bakugou!”

“Cover your diseased mouth,” he grunts, but there’s something horribly satisfied in the expression he wears as Kirishima and Kaminari both moan dramatically.

“That's so not manly,” Kirishima whines.

Shouto and Tokoyami are both speechless as Bakugou continues on like nothing has changed. That is to say, with violent enthusiasm and a hostile humor. Kirishima seems unaware that he must have been in hearing range for Kaminari’s slip, and Bakugou… Bakugou has the two of them in matching headlocks, shouting about one thing or another. Kirishima is laughing brightly in his hold and Shouto sags against the wall as the crisis is- probably?- averted.

Shouto wonders if Bakugou is holding onto Kirishima a bit tighter than usual, he holds him longer than he does Kaminari, roughing up his hair until it falls around his face and the boy groans in protest. Is that Bakugou’s version of a lingering touch?

“What must he be thinking, to overhear such an ill fated confession?” Tokoyami muses.

Shouto shakes his head. He’s closely tied to not one but two people with strong connections to this ticking time bomb of angst, but he can honestly say, “I have no idea what goes on inside of Bakugou’s head.”