traffic-artists-nyc

[burquillos]

This development is still so fucking crazy to me.

Also I literally just noticed how All Might apologizes to him both times, but back then he responded with sad and angry scowl but now he responds with a proud and bright smile!!

That's crazy to me!!

[pikahlua]

As a fellow Bakugo fan I must ask, are you not even a little bit mad that Hori jobbed Bakugo (as well as others) so bad to make Deku look good? As a Bakugo fan who doesn't really like Deku, I'm considering droping the manga and I'm sad about it because I've been reading the manga for 3 years. I know that Bakugo will probably rise and do something but I still find the entire thing distasteful

Given how many asks I keep receiving to this effect, let me make this one thing perfectly, utterly, ear-ringingly clear.

[looks straight into the camera and leans in to place my lips directly on the microphone]

No. I ain’t even mad, bro.

1. I have not been holding back my disappointment or refraining from criticizing Horikoshi out of politeness. I genuinely enjoy what’s been going on with Katsuki in the manga 100% since the beginning of this arc. I don’t think anyone should or shouldn’t enjoy the arc just because they’re a fan of Katsuki. I don’t think it means anything about you as a Katsuki fan if you like or dislike it. The fact of the matter is, I am a giant Katsuki fan, and I like this arc--and it’s clearly because I see what’s going on in the manga differently from the people who don’t like it. It’s as simple as that.

2. The notion that Horikoshi “jobbed” Katsuki to “make Deku look good” is just, like, your opinion, man. I don’t see it. I see the heavy implication that we’re maybe supposed to think that for like a few chapters, but Horikoshi has signaled SO. FUCKING. LOUDLY. how this is a ploy that I can’t even be mad at how my ear drums are bleeding from the volume. I don’t know how many times I gotta say it: when a character SAYS THE TROPE OUT LOUD (e.g. AFO vs Jirou), you just know the trope’s about to be subverted. But to subvert the trope, you first must play with it.

3. Look, it’s easy to forget the big picture when you’re reading such short chapters like this with only one or two major plot beats per chapter each week. If you’re genuinely not enjoying the manga at this pace, I’d advise you to change it. Read a few chapters at a time. Don’t read weekly. I can only explain my own enjoyment by pointing out that I’ve very consistently followed along with the plot beats while demonstrating that I absolutely vibe with Horikoshi.

Remember that time I was the only one who realized THIS WAS LEADING TO SOME BAD SHIT?

That happened in chapter 344. February. Katsuki wouldn’t get bodied until chapter 362 in August. Did it seem like I was despairing over this premonition for half-a-year? (Well, I mean “despairing” in a bad way that implies I wasn’t enjoying myself.)

But this is what I mean when I say don’t take plot beats at face value, because we have to let the story resolve each situation at its own natural pace. Katsuki is supposed to look like he’s been “jobbed” for Izuku’s sake, and for that to affect us properly, we have to sit with it for a while.

The fact that the above interaction exists gives me all the comfort in the world that what you’re describing isn’t actually happening in earnest in the story. Horikoshi is well aware of what the fuck things look like. He’s reveling in the fact that you’re falling for it. With any luck, the resolution will be that much sweeter for you when he finally gets to it.

(Depicted above is Horikoshi lampshading the point even harder.)

If you don’t want to go through heartache to get to the sweet reward, if that’s not to your taste, then that’s cool. Do your thing. I’m gonna keep doing mine, and I’m having a blast with what we’ve got.

And what we’ve got is a plethora of Katsuki at every turn.

We keep joking about how I can make anything about Katsuki whether or not it’s merited, but at this point I’m convinced I’m supposed to be doing that. I haven’t written fusion theory yet because I’ve been so sleep deprived today, but chapter 369 really nailed home the fact that I’m supposed to be seeing all the characters in each other. AFO is Katsuki Bakugou. Katsuki Bakugou is Izuku Midoriya. Shouto and Iida are Izuku, and Dabi and Tomura are Katsuki, and everyone is All Might, and I could slot anyone’s names in any part of this formula and it will all work fine. The characters are converging on a singularity. So when I see any character do anything, including Izuku doing his thing right now, I am perfectly justified in seeing Katsuki Bakugou alive and well (although I do also get a certain smug satisfaction out of seeing his corpse on the ground like Horikoshi is winking at me each time he draws it).

(Like am I even supposed to be mad that he’s dead? When we’ve got so many other reanimated dead people walking around it might even be construed as a theme?)

Everything is Katsuki Bakugou and vice versa change my mind.

[innermonologue247-iah]

Dancing Queen

Pairings: Bakugo x reader, Midoriya x reader

Warnings: semi drunk/ tipsy reader

Summary: U.A. has a school dance and everyone's invited. As all of the first year classes gather together for a night of fun, Bakugo can't help but be his usually grumpy self. Especially since you didn't come here with him but someone else.

Hips swayed as the music bellowed through the room. Bodies gliding gracefully across the floor. His eyes were completely captured by (y/n)’s movements. Dancing in the middle of the floor alongside Deku. That damn nerd. He couldn’t believe what his eyes were witnessing. The lack of composure you held. Moving so effortlessly, it was like all of your walls he constantly fought so hard to break were completely removed at this moment.

Bakugo was immediately brought back to the reality of the situation as Midoriya came back into view. From his seat in the corner he had been able to enjoy seeing you dance to your heart's content, but now that damn Deku was back reminding Bakugo that it wasn’t him but rather the other boy who was accompanying you to tonight’s party.

The song switched the now upbeat tempo causing you and your date to jump around recklessly. Loose hair flying every which way. Tch, what idiots. He thought. Song after song he continued to wallow in disgust. Trying to convince himself that his rage was the result of that damn nerd’s attendance at the event.

His train of thought was finally interrupted by the clapping of a hand on his shoulder. Eyes looking to the person who had just assaulted him.

“Bakubro!” Kirishima shouted. “What are you over here moping for bro? So not manly.”

“Tch”

His eyes returned to the crowd of people dancing in front of him. Once again scanning the group for your frame, only to find himself mumbling a string of curses as your body pressed against Midoryia’s as you moved to the beat.

“You know, you should dance at least once Bakubro,” Kirishima stated.

“Tch, I’m not some loser like you extras,” he scoffed. “ I don’t even know why I bothered coming here in the first place. It’s a waste of my time.”

“Now don’t be like that bro.”

“Whatever.”

Kirishima continued his attempt to converse with the overly uptight blonde but he was barely met with any response. Bakugo’s mind was in a different place. Why couldn’t it be me. You damn idiot. Tch, you really think he’s better than me? I’m the best, everyone knows that.

“Even (y/n) is having fun, come on, give it a chance.” Bakugo came back to reality as those words left his friend’s lips. Noticing you were no longer on the dance floor he rose from his resting place.

“I’m going to get a drink,” he stated flatly as he excused himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having made his way to the refreshments table, using the ladle to fill the plastic cup with drink from the punch bowl. Moving away from the table he rested against the nearest wall, raising the drink to his lips.

“It’s pretty good isn’t it,” a familiar voice declared.

(Y/n). He removed the cup from his face looking at the person now standing beside him.

“Honestly I didn’t expect any of the snacks or refreshments to be good, you know. But this. It’s not half bad.” They raised their own cup to their lips taking another gulp of the punch inside. “You know Bakugo, I haven’t seen you on the dance floor all night. You should really get out there. It’s pretty fun. The music is enjoyable too, nothing too crazy but you can definitely move to it.”

Silence followed as Bakugo stood there in pure shock of how casually (y/n) had just spoken to him. Their conversations were never this calm, never this simple.

Finishing the contents of her cup, (y/n) sighed, “Well I should probably get back to Izuku. Have a good night Bakugo.”

He felt his heart sink, watching your frame walk away from him. First name basis, you’re that close already? Mouth now dry, Bakugo lifted the cup up to his mouth once again finally taking a sip. He shook his head in disgust as the weird aftertaste took over his mouth. Someone definitely spiked this. Probably Denki.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night was still a decent way from being over, music continuing to blast all around you as you continued to dance to the beat. Euphoria taking over while dancing alongside your best friends. Deku was no longer beside you, but you weren’t concerned, he’s capable of taking care of himself, besides it was nice to jump around with someone other than your date for a minute or two.

Finally the song changed. (Y/n) turned to their friends saying, “I’ll be right back,” but they were too preoccupied to hear them. Stumbling through the crowd, (Y/n) made their way towards the exit throwing away the trashed cup in their hand as they walked out the door, another drink finished. (Y/n) continued down the corridor they had just entered desperately trying to find something.

“What was I looking for again,” the words fell through (y/n’s) lips slurred and barely audible as they spoke only to themself.

“Tch. Hey idiot, what are you doing out here?” Bakugo’s voice called out. Stepping out of the restroom he had noticed his seemingly lost classmate stumbling around in the darkness of the hallway. What on earth are they doing? Shouldn’t they be with damn Deku? Did they get lost?

Before he could realize it he was caught inside their arms. (Y/n) grasping frantically as they tried to hold onto him. Sobbing into his chest. What the hell is going on?

(Y/n)’s head raised, looking up towards Bakugo, tears still flowing. This was a sight he’d never seen before, it was almost too intimate. Never in his wildest dreams would he have ever imagined this moment. It was unthinkable. And maybe that is why he found himself doing the unthinkable. He found himself moving the stray hairs from the front of their face. He found himself staring back at the teary orbs looking up at him. He found himself reciprocating the embrace he was being given. And finally, he found himself closing the gap between their faces, his lips connecting with theirs in the quiet emptiness of that hallway.

Maybe time stopped when (Y/n)’s lips reconnected with his own, the butterflies certainly intensified. Heart pounding in his chest, no other thought on his mind than how soft and delicate they felt against his mouth. How quickly they invaded all of his senses. A scene so completely and utterly against his very nature, but every moment addictive, a dream he never wanted to end. Raw emotion lingering in the way they held each other, as if words never spoken were finally being said. At first he dared not close his eyes, keeping them half open, guiltily peeking at (Y/n)’s form as if to make sure this was truly reality. But as the moment turned to minutes he found himself getting lost in the passion of it all, hunger and sadness intensifying.

“Katsuki…” a shaky voice called out, breaking the kiss, tearing him from the make out session he was so enraptured in. He stared in disbelief at the figure before him. Had (Y/n) really just called him by his first name.Embrace now adjusted so that he was simply supporting their shaky frame, he crouched down so that his eyes could be level with theirs...Maybe it was the tears, maybe it was shere exhaustion but they seemed glazed over now.

Once again he was startled out of his thoughts as the door to the corridor was slammed open, and in rushed a frantic looking Midoriya.

“(Y/n)!” Deku called, rushing over to the slumped figure in Bakugo’s arms, none the wiser to what had just occurred between the two. “Is she okay Kacchan?” He asked, consumed with worry.

“Tch. Found the stupid idiot wondering the halls. Suppose the damn extra got lost.”

“Oh, well thanks for finding them, Kacchan. I appreciate the help.” The worry rolled off of Midoriya’s back as he heard Bakugo’s words. Picking up your tired form from Kacchan’s arms he held you, bridal style, walking back towards the door where he had come from. “Thanks again for your help Kacchan,” he stated.

“Bye Bakugo.”

The words barely graced his ears as you disappeared, once again with Izuku. He stood there frozen, not moving for what felt like forever. For seconds? Minutes? For all he knew it could have been hours. Hours since he had held you in his arms, since he felt you on his lips. The quietness of the hallway no longer comforting, he decided to return to the main room. Maybe you could talk this out, maybe he should just go home. Either way he had to go back through that door before he could leave. Dammit, what am I supposed to do now you idiot.

[pandemilkbread]

devil 007 (prologue)

devil 007 (Bakugo Katsuki x Reader)

summary:

(demon!au)

Turns out Bakugo Katsuki never wanted to eat your soul, rather he just needed someone to play video games with.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ :>

                                                    ☆     ☆     ☆

𝑖. 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

“That was a fucking accident.”

“An explosion that big is not an accident!”

You might be wondering how the hell were you hanging on the tallest building in the underworld holding on to a pipeline for your dear life. While your notorious partner-in-crime Bakugo just watched as you dangled ninety feet in the air. 

“I swear if I die I will shitting haunt you for all eternity! You’d be fed up with all my shit the moment my soul reaches your territory. Just imagine, me annoying you fore—“

“Jump.” He grumbled. 

No. Jump? Hell no. You’d rather die than jump into his arms. Bakugo was more likely to miss, and you’d fall (probably five storeys) before he dare tried to save you. 

You wanted to scream. How all this happened in the first place, you hardly remember. No, you did remember. 

It was all because of that stupid book. 

☆     ☆     ☆     ☆     ☆

It was a mishap, really. The wrong book got delivered to the wrong place at the wrong time, and exactly the wrong thing happened as a consequence. 

You were a college student who had just finished the semester, and frankly... a miserable one you were. Failing a quiz was one thing, but you had to mess up your finals so badly a retake wouldn’t suffice. You had to take up the subject all over again. 

Sighing, you lay flat on your back. The ceiling had this magical property to suck up all the negativity in your life. 

(it didn’t. but you’d like to think so.)

You had all the time in the world to repeat the subject. The problem? Cash. Having a scholarship at a prestigious university wasn’t easy. One measly failure could mean bye-bye free tuition fees and hello student loans that could last centuries + a liver.

Doomed you were, honey. You groaned. At least the treasury board approved the student allowances; which meant? The poor student (you) finally bought the heavy shitass syllabus for your major. The subject you failed. 

It could take weeks for the parcel to arrive. What did you expect? You only ordered it days ago. The sooner it gets here, you’d be studying your ass off until 5 A.M. for weeks. Hooray. 

A sudden ring of the doorbell awoke you from your senses. Huh, it did arrive earlier than you expected. You scooted towards the door and twisted it open. There lay a box wrapped in tape, a sticker with the words ‘fragile: handle with care’ shone in bright yellow. 

You picked it up and shook the item. It was lighter than you expected. How the heck did a 700 page book become as light as a diary? Did they send you the wrong thing? Crap. You scoured the whole box to find neither details about who the recipient nor who the sender was. 

Oh, well. Did that mean you could keep whatever was inside? You grinned. Opening up the box, you find out it was a vivid red book entitled:

Ultimatum Wishes: The Ultimate Spellbook for Summoning Demons! All your wishes will come true! Follow the instructions inside. 

Yeah, right. Like you could summon a demon to send you a trillion yen.

(apparently, doubt didn’t stop you from trying.)

☆     ☆     ☆     ☆     ☆

First of all, what the actual fuck. 

Your curiosity got the best of you. The instructions were pretty easy; sugar, salt, dirt, water, a jar of mayonnaise, a drop of blood— basically, the usual ingredients for summoning demons. Like that’s shitting normal? You had to mix them all together and spread them into the circle you drew on earlier. 

Second, did you really summon a demon?

You were obviously not in your dorm room. It was bigger, darker, and colder to what you were accustomed to. After saying a stupid chant, you make a wish and boom! demon comes to you. So the instructions said. 

It was a joke, really. You never thought the book was actually real! Once you said your wish, a bright light flashed and... you were here. A basement like room devoid of light, making your fingers the only things you could see at the moment. 

You were sprawled on your back, staring at your hands. If only your eyes could adjust to the light then you would be on your merry way to finding the exit. Except, that you didn’t really need to adjust. The lights opened with a flash and you were met with red eyes:

“Took you long enough, brat!”

Lastly, who the hell was this?

The moment you and this miniature bomb exchanged looks, and he realized that you weren’t the person he was hoping for, the man grabbed the collar of your shirt lifting you high up to the ceiling. 

“How the fuck did you get here stupid human? Pretty gutsy of you to just waltz in like you own the place, hm?” He growled, slightly shaking you with every syllable he uttered. 

You barely registered it, you-know before you were lifted up, but this person in front of you was terrifying. He radiated waves of “answer properly or i’ll rip you into shreds” and you didn’t want to die.

(not at least before smacking this crappy brute.)

“Put me down you—you crappy dog! Treat me nicely and I’ll tell you everything,” You choked. 

He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “You’re really haggling with me now, maggot? The last time I checked I could easily squeeze the fucking life out of you—”

“T-The book! Shitty book! Followed it and I’m here!”

And with that you were dropped onto the floor. You yelped upon impact, rubbing the area of your neck with your fingers. That hurt.  Your eyes hovered to your assailant and saw his frustration building up. Hoo, a little bit more and he’d be on fire. 

“...How’d you get it?” 

“Sent to my doorstep. D-Didn’t think it was real I thought—”

“You opened it knowing it wasn’t yours?”

“Oh, no you aren’t! Don’t blame me for your shitty mistake in the first place!”

“Watch your tongue, human.”

You sighed. Everyone knew you were someone who wouldn’t back down from a fight, but your senses told you otherwise. There was a fine line between pissing him off and stabbing you in the heart, you knew you were likely closer to the latter part of the scale. 

“Fine. Whoever that package was sent to, it came to me instead. Why am I here?”

He contemplated for a while, searching for the right words to spout out. Oh God no. Were you brought here as a sacrifice? You shook your head. Anything but that! Sweat dribbled down your forehead. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“...to kill...”

Yeaph. And with that, you blacked out. 

(imagine, fainting from your own demolition. oh, you hope you didn’t actually break a bone or two.)

☆     ☆     ☆     ☆     ☆

You awoke to a strange tapping noise, more like a smack, and groans of infuriation. The vivid colors of black, pink, and yellow caught your attention, making you stare in awe. Was that Mario Kart...?

The clicking sound came from the blonde who sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes drawn to big television screen in front of him. While you were on a black couch around three hands away from the man. Seemingly, he could sense your tiny movements as you sat up, compelling him to chuck a controller at you. 

“You gonna play or what?”

Huh? You took the object, feeling the texture in your hands. It’s been a while since you held a controller; even longer since you played a game at all. The game home screen flashed, the cursor hovering over the “new game” button. He clicked it forcing the game to switch into the character screen. 

The man picked Bowser. Ah, not surprising. You grinned as you chose Princess Peach.

The game began immediately after and you thought, wow. You sucked at this game! Your cart hit track walls, bounced on boulders, special items that you sent managed to hit you instead. Rigged, this must be rigged! Just because the last time you played the game was ten years ago, doesn’t automatically mean you were shit at it.

Your companion thought differently.

“You’re crappy at this game.” He sneered.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just the first game! A warm-up, you’ll see.”

And yes, he did see. See you fail round after round, time after time, the twenty games you played seemed to only prove your awful skills at a simple multiplayer game. You groaned. How was it possible to lose this much? Even the computer controlled characters beat you senseless. 

Gently placing the controller on the sofa, you wrapped your arms around your knees. Was this a test? A test to see whether if you were worth killing? Oh boy, you would have been slaughtered at the first playthrough. 

“Are you going kill me now?” You murmured. 

If this was how you were going to go, at least you had fun. Well, you did lose more times than you could count. But hey, it was enjoyable. 

“Ha. You think I’d let you go that easily?” He stood up, turned and grabbed the controller. “You made a pact with me, and now you’re gonna run away?”

His other hand reached for your chin and pulled it up, your eyes meeting his. 

“What’d you wish for, princess?”

alright. so that’s the prologue! thank you for reading. i’ll have the chapter one ready soon. so pretty much, what happened was: you received a package. bored as you were followed the instructions and summoned a demon. except, you were actually summoned somewhere else to bakugo no less. 

the introductions come on to the next chapter!! please leave a like if you like it aaaaa it would mean alot ;;;;

[silly-nonny-fics-are-for-fandoms]

Burning

Bakukami Week Day three (Part Two): Spicy @officialbakukamiweek Summary: Cooking, he can do. Baking too, with some help. Only, his boyfriend enjoyed spicy food and Kaminari had the constitution of a small child against spicy foods and he desperately wanted to please him on his birthday. Read on Ao3

Everyone who assumed Kaminari couldn't cook, they were wrong. He could cook very well, in fact, he just had a hard time doing it from memory. Along with his usual inability to focus in class, he wasn't able to do much without something else.

This is only half of the reason he stood in the dorm kitchen, having volunteered to cook dinner for the class that night. He wore a simple pink tee shirt, some black jeans, and a cute pink apron he snatched from Mina, his headphones on as he danced around the room to the beat of the music, black rubber gloves protecting him from the dangerous ingredients.

Well, he was cooking as well. A rather large glass of milk sat on the counter, half drunk and a box of tissues.

Why tissues, one may ask?

Simple. He was trying to cook something for his boyfriend's birthday, and his boyfriend's favorite food was anything spicy. Kirishima had mentioned how it might be so spicy that Bakugo would cry. Kaminari thought it would be an exciting sight, possibly getting Bakugo to admit it was too hot for him.

Kaminari had settled on making three things, two super spicy and one less so. It smelled great, but the burning sensation he got wasn't quite so welcome. He'd instructed his classmates to do everything in their power, mostly the power of the Bakusquad, to keep Bakugo as far away from the kitchen as they could.

The first thing he'd decided to cook was some spicy steak soup, kicked up to eleven with Carolina Reaper extract and hot sauce.

The second, less spicy, was ghost peppers stuffed with hot sausage and cheese.

Finally, the last and least spicy of all, Mussaman Curry. Not particularly hot or spicy, but flavorful and more than enough to satisfy those who didn't like spicy food.

The oven beeped, and Kaminari checked on the peppers, tearing up at the force of their aroma but putting them back in for another three minutes. Grabbing a tissue, he made sure to stir the soups, keeping them from boiling over and getting ruined. The curry smelled good, and--

Oh, his phone was buzzing.

Slipping off one of his gloves he reached into his pocket, pulling his phone out to hit the answer button, thankful for his headphones' microphone. "Hello?" Kaminari hummed, checking on the peppers again.

"Hey, Kami! It's Kiri. Uh. We lost sight of Bakubro."

Kaminari's thoughts halted. They'd lost sight of Bakugo? This couldn't be good.

"Where are you guys?"

"We reserved Ground Beta for," there was a pause, "Another hour. He just vanished! We've been looking, but we can't find him! Is he with you?"

"Gimme a second, okay?" Kaminari leaned over to the wall, letting out a small bit of electricity. A technique he'd been working on, to hack security cameras with his quirk, finally had a use. He looked at his phone, where he relayed the signals from the cameras too and yelped. Bakugo was on his way back, looking pissed.

"Uh, he's almost here. Can you send Iida to distract him? I know its super late," only about five fifty, "But everything's almost done. Please?"

He heard Kirishima relaying the message to everyone else, and he glanced at the fridge, which had the cake he'd baked that morning. It wasn't great, just a giant devil's food cake with chocolate chips recipe he'd grown up eating, but the ganache and icing made it look better than it was on its own. He knew Katsuki preferred dark chocolate if he had to have something sweet, but he still worried that he wouldn't enjoy it. Especially if it was topped with something like fresh fruit.

Kaminari had spent his entire day in the kitchen, wanting to impress his boyfriend on such a special day.

"Iida's on his way. Cake ready?" Kirishima asked, Kaminari humming and going back to his cooking. His hair was frizzed, fluffy and a bit crazy. Every time he got even a small burn, his quirk came up, and the static made him fluffy.

"Yeah, I hope he likes it."

"Dude, you spent all day in that kitchen, cooking just for him! He's gonna love it!"

"But what if he doesn't? What if dinner isn't spicy enough or the cake is too sweet?" Kaminari bit his lip, looking out the window to see his boyfriend angrily walking towards the building, Iida catching up quickly.

The singing sound brought his attention away from the scene, taking the curry off of the burner to let it rest.

"Bro, it'd be super unmanly for him to be mad after all you've done for him! You’re a great boyfriend!" He heard Kirishima laugh, and Kaminari relaxed slightly. Kirishima was right, Bakugo would at least appreciate the effort it took to do this.

"Thanks, man, I owe ya." He chuckled, "Bye!"

"Bye dude!"

Hanging up, he took the peppers out of the oven and let them rest to the side, turning the heat on the soup down so as not to burn it. He could hear an explosion from outside, and glancing out the window again he gulped. It seemed Bakugo had said something which caused Iida to stop, still standing on the sidewalk.

Kaminari began to panic. The soup still needed to simmer for twenty minutes, and Bakugo would recognize the scent of spicy things cooking.

"Nononononono-!" He started fritzing, then he realized. He could lock the front door! But Bakugo could fly using his quirk, he reminded himself, and he knew the balcony doors were rarely locked. What would be the point?

He turned the burner onto a lower setting, slipping off the apron and gloves, accepting his fate. Knocking his headphones down around his neck, he walked over to the entryway to the kitchen and smiled, trying to get his hair in order.

The door opened, and Bakugo didn't look happy.

"Hey babe," Denki waved, smiling, "You're back early, happy birthday." He hadn't gotten to say it that morning, and he walked over to the grumpy teen and kissed him lightly.

"Fucking. I fucking hate our class." Katsuki grumbled, roughly grabbing Denki's waist.

"Hm? And why's that?" Denki purred, despite being able to feel the static elevating his hair.

"All I fucking wanted for my shitty birthday," Katsuki leaned down to kiss the blonde's neck, "Was to spend the day with my damn boyfriend. But no- They had to drag me to the fucking training grounds." He grumbled, biting the juncture between Denki's neck and shoulder, causing him to spark even more. As he did, the most wonderful smell wafted over, which made him hum in enjoyment, "You cooking something?"

"I- Uhn- Yeah. Wanted. Wanted to surprise you." Denki mumbled, face red.

"Did you set them up to what happened?" Katsuki's grip on his waist tightened, and Denki was sure there'd be at least imprints later. Denki shook his head,

"I just told them to keep you busy and out of the kitchen,"

"So you put them up to it."

"Kinda?" He chuckled, "But you know I didn't mean any harm by it."

"Yeah, I know." Katsuki glanced at the kitchen, raising an eyebrow. "Do I wanna know if everything is in one piece?"

"It is, I promise! Everything is in one piece!" Denki chuckled, slipping out of his boyfriend's arms, dragging him to the kitchen.

"Alright, let's try some of this, then." Katsuki grabbed one of the spoons, Denki biting his lip. If Katsuki didn't like it, he might be heartbroken.

He watched Katsuki take a small sip from the spoon of the stake soup, pause for a second, and turn to him. "it's a bit bland, but not half bad." He shrugged, and Denki lit up. Katsuki rarely gave out compliments, so hearing him praise his cooking had been excellent. A real confidence booster.

"I'm glad you like it! But, bland? There a teaspoon of Carolina Reaper extracts in there..." He glanced at the used tissues in the trash can, remembering how much he had cried in the process of making the meals.

"Yeah, I can barely fucking taste it."

To Denki's horror, he watched as Katsuki reached over for the extract bottle, read the instructions, and poured half of the bottle into the soup. The electric user teared up at the scene, quickly grabbing a tissue to wipe away the tears before they could fall.

"What the heck is your tolerance?! People have gone to the hospital because of that!" He exclaimed, Katsuki shrugging.

"It's fucking bland. Spicy food is supposed to taste like something. If someone eats it and sees Recovery girl, it's their damn fault."

Denki gawked at him as he stirred the pot, going to wash his hands after to make sure the extract hadn't gotten on his hands. The difference in heat tolerance was noticeable; nothing was ever hot enough for Katsuki, and Denki could barely handle hot salsa.

"So, you got a cake or something?" Katsuki asked, looking over at his boyfriend, "Or are you my dessert?"

His face went bright red, small sparks coming off of his hair as he grabbed the other's sleeve.

"There's cake, but if you want me, then I wouldn't mind being your dessert."

He could nearly hear Katsuki smirk, hiding his face against his back.

"Well, if someone that hot says they won't mind being my dessert, who the fuck am I to refuse?"

Denki was sure Kirishima hadn't meant this kind of spice when he said Katsuki might cry, but he'd take what he'd get.