#how hard is it to learn to fly a drone

[zuzu-tries-to-write]

Title: Ignite

Bakugo katsuki X Reader

Summary:

You and Bakugo have always been rivals—constantly clashing, always trying to outdo each other. But when you’re forced to train together, the tension between you shifts from frustration to something dangerously electric. A mission gone wrong brings you closer than ever, and when Bakugo finally snaps, pulling you into a heated kiss, you realize the line between hate and desire was never really there at all.

(I tried writing chapters this time)

Chapter 1: Collision Course

“Tell me this is some kind of sick joke.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at Bakugo Katsuki as Aizawa-sensei announced the new sparring partners for the semester.

“No joke,” Aizawa deadpanned, rubbing his temples like he was already regretting the decision. “You and Bakugo need to learn how to work together. Otherwise, one of you is going to get killed in real combat.”

“Tch. Not my fault they can’t keep up,” Bakugo sneered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Excuse me?” you snapped. “Who was it that had to save your ass last time?”

His eye twitched. “Like hell you did!”

Aizawa sighed, already walking away. “Figure it out.”

You and Bakugo stood there, locked in a silent war of glares as the rest of the class went about their business. Kirishima shot you both a very concerned look before muttering something about an explosive disaster waiting to happen.

He wasn’t wrong.

Chapter 2: Sparks and Fists

“Stay outta my way!” Bakugo barked, launching forward.

You were mid-spar in the U.A. training grounds, forced to work as a team against a wave of combat drones. And, as expected, he was being an insufferable brute.

You dodged a blast that was way too close for comfort. “If you’d stop trying to blow everything up, maybe I could actually help!”

“I don’t need your damn help!”

Another explosion sent debris flying, and you barely had time to react before a drone lunged at you. You twisted, taking it down with a well-placed kick—but just as you landed, Bakugo’s arm shot out in front of you.

A blast ignited right by your face.

You flinched, shoving him back. “What the hell, Bakugo?!”

He bared his teeth, gripping your wrist. “Then move faster, dumbass!”

You yanked away from him, your heart pounding for reasons you refused to acknowledge. “You almost fried my face off!”

“Tch. Coulda been worse.”

Your fingers curled into fists. “Oh, that’s it—”

Before you could launch at him, Aizawa’s voice crackled through the comms. “If you two don’t start working together, I’m doubling your training sessions.”

You and Bakugo froze.

Then, you both let out a synchronized groan of frustration.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But if you get me killed, I’m haunting your ass.”

Bakugo snorted. “Like hell you could.”

Chapter 3: Breaking Point

It happened during an unexpected villain ambush.

You and Bakugo had been patrolling the city as part of a third-year internship when the attack broke out. The two of you fought fiercely, your movements in sync despite the constant arguing that usually defined your relationship.

But then you took a hit.

The villain’s quirk sent you crashing into a wall, pain flaring through your ribs. Before you could react, another blow was coming—except it never landed.

Bakugo was there.

A deafening explosion rocked the street, and the next thing you knew, he was crouched over you, his arm braced protectively in front of your chest.

His breath was ragged. His hand was gripping your wrist so tightly it almost hurt.

“Are you stupid?” he snarled, eyes blazing with something wild. “You should’ve dodged that!”

You swallowed, your heart slamming against your ribs. “I tried—”

“Not hard enough!”

His grip tightened. You realized, belatedly, that his hands were shaking.

And then, before you could stop yourself, you reached up and brushed a thumb over his knuckles. “I’m fine, Bakugo.”

His gaze snapped to yours, and for the first time, you saw something raw beneath the anger.

He clicked his tongue and yanked his hand away. “Tch. Don’t scare me like that, dumbass.”

Your stomach flipped.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Chapter 4: Fire and Gasoline

The tension between you and Bakugo had been unbearable since that night.

Every glance lasted too long. Every argument left you breathless. Every sparring session felt like it was leading to something neither of you wanted to admit.

Then, one evening, it snapped.

It started as a usual argument in the dorm hallway.

“You are so infuriating—”

“Then stop starin’ at me all the damn time, idiot!”

“Maybe if you weren’t such an ass, I wouldn’t—”

And then he was in front of you, caging you against the wall, his breath hot against your skin.

“Say it,” he growled.

Your pulse thundered. “Say what?”

His hand slammed against the wall beside your head. “That you want me.”

Your breath caught.

The heat in his gaze was suffocating. The tension between you crackled like an impending explosion.

You swallowed, refusing to back down. “You first.”

Bakugo let out a sharp exhale—then, in one rough motion, his lips crashed against yours.

The kiss was feral, all heat and desperation. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him as if he was afraid you’d disappear. You let out a quiet gasp, and he swallowed it, deepening the kiss until you were both breathless.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as he growled against your lips. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you gasped again.

He grinned. “Tch. Thought so.”

You tugged him back down into another kiss.

If this was what fighting with him always led to, maybe it wasn’t so bad.

[imagionationstation]

Mikey was pretty much a Donnie whisperer.

It was a badge that he wore with pride, ever since the first day that he’d managed to coax a few words out of the nervous, older teen. He went out of his way to stay out of everyone’s way, but Mikey was unbothered. He had dealt with challenges before.

Donnie was a back of the classroom kind of personality, even if his brain totally could have placed him up front.

Mikey was a middle of the classroom kinda guy. Close enough to look like he wanted to pay attention, and far enough back that the teachers didn’t immediately notice when he wasn’t. He was soo chill like that, and he liked helping others chill out too.

So when he saw the high-strung, awkward, stuttering mess of a foster kid, obviously, he had to help him out!

It had been hard, especially with his bulky twin dragging him around like he was personal property (something Mikey stopped judging him for when he learn about the time that they’d been separated for a few months, and Donnie left the home with concealed bruises and a missing tooth), but Mikey learned to manage.

Much like Raph had his ways of keeping them together, Mikey had his ways of inserting himself into their circle. He was always challenged, always with a sneer (“He bothering you, Don?” Never Donnie, always Don-) and heated glare, like he was always expecting an answer that he never got, no matter how uncomfortable his younger half seemed. (“I’m fine, Raph. Really.”)

(Mikey quickly learned that uncomfortable could sometimes translate into joy. He was uncomfortable when he rambles. He’s uncomfortable at the lunch table with Mikey’s friends. He’s was uncomfortable when Mikey first invited him to his house.)

He wasn’t uncomfortable the first time they met. It was something else. Something that stole his voice and made him hunch in on himself, looking at Mikey like he came from another planet.

Mikey didn’t let that bother him. With the sporty twin distracted on the field, Mikey swooped in with the perfect excuse (“yeah, that’s my big bro, Leo, riiiight over there”) an easy lie (“Oh, yeah, I tots come watch him practice all the time.”) and a bright smile to keep the conversation going. (It was a one-sided conversation for the first few times, but he came around eventually. Everyone does!)

Seriously, it took foreeever to start getting a good reading on the guy, but once he did, it was like finally striking a match and getting a fire so big that it burned your fingers. He was awesome.

He had sketch books filled with all kinds of crazy things and a brain big enough to actually build them. Mikey volunteered his backyard as a construction site and, within two week, they had a crazy flying assault drone. One that he immediately used to fire nerf bullets at their brothers as they walked up the driveway.

He’d tried to hand the remote back and Donnie refused.

“You can keep it.” He smiled, eyes shining with pride, “I can’t take it to the house anyway.”

It was always ‘to the house’ and never ‘home.’

It made Mikey sad, but he talked about happy things instead.

There was a lot to be happy about! Mikey introduced Donnie to everything that he knew. Carnivals, movie theaters, arcades, laser tag, and museums (Mikey loved the exhibits, Donnie gushed over the information behind them) were the tip of the iceberg. They went on hikes and had sleepovers and messed around in the dojo and played pranks that their brothers always tracked back to them. They would be uno-reversed and then the dynamic duo would have to get more creative to return the favor.

(Donnie introduced Mikey to things that he never knew too. A patient voice walking him along assignments that he can’t sit through. An attentive eye that noticed the little things that got lost in big groups- words gone unheard, downcast looks flicking by, hidden fears that come out in nervous laughter, false confidence in a bright grin that never dares to fade- and never hesitated to remind him that they mattered. He mattered. Donnie heard and saw everything, and Mikey slowly realized what it was like to be seen without trying.)

They built all kinds of fire things in the backyard- literally set it on fire once!- because Papa was afraid that they’d blow up the house. Leo tattled on them often, but Papa would take one look at Mikey’s big, guilty eyes and Donnie’s honest, sheepish smile, and they’d be off the hook. It frustrated Leo to no end, but Mikey thinks that easy forgiveness is why Raph kept coming over.

(Raph had that rebel vibe and didn’t seem to like anyone, much less his twin, but he still kept coming over, and stranger still, spending all his time with mightier-than-though Leo. He actually listens to their father, looking to him for advice, which Mikey only discovered because he came home early and found them talking in low voice.)

(Raph was relaxed and attentive. Mikey left them alone. Wonders of the universe never ceased to happen in the Hamato home.)

Mikey asked Donnie why he was so mean all the time. Donnie stood up, dirt on his pants and a black smear on his cheek, thinking deeply about a simple question, “Adults don’t care about you when you’re nice. Being mean is the only reason we stay together.”

Mikey catches the paintbrush as it falls off his nose. Some of the paint splatters on his shirt. “You’re not mean.”

“I can do stuff.” Donnie shrugs as he digs in the borrowed tool box. “People notice that too.”

“But you said that his temper gets you guys in trouble.”

“I’m okay with being in trouble.” Donnie turns around, desired tool procured. “As long as he’s there.”

“But I didn’t know you could do stuff.” Mikey presses. (He’s plenty nice and that’s why people notice him. Couldn’t Raph do that too?)

“I know.” Donnie smiles, in his small, sheepish way. It’s infectious, and Mikey always beams back. “Not everyone is you, though.”

“One of a kind, brah.”

“Yeah,” Donnie looks away, kneeling back down. “You are.”

They were both one of a kind. It was what made them so great.

They always managed to make their interests link, to find a way to have both wants met. Something only came between them once.

(Mikey remembers the horrible night of his school play, when Donnie had the mechanics meet where his club would show off their inventions. How the week before they’d bickered endlessly about how Mikey needed Donnie to be in the crowd- he was scared of losing the words, of messing up in front of the school, he needed him- his club could show off the inventions without him!)

(Donnie had gone cold, ignoring his attempts to reach out.)

(The next day, Mikey went to his foster house. He waited there on the doorstep, refusing to budge until Donnie came out. He did, eyes puffy, and Mikey wanted to shake him, selfish and mean and terrified of losing him. “Why did that matter more than me?” Donnie, selfish and mean and terrified too, didn’t hesitate, “No thing matters more than you. But I had to go. I had too.” And Mikey sobbed. And Donnie sobbed. And they hugged. And that was that.)

Donnie opened doors that Mikey never knew had been closed. He was Mikey’s secret-keeper, a lock-box that no force on earth could open. Mikey was determined to be the same, no matter how bad his stories got. Donnie needed to tell them and nothing in this world, not even his crazy, silly brain, would convince him not to listen.

“Kids don’t like nerds.” Donnie placed one of Mikey’s plastic stars on the wall next to his bed. They both loved space, even if it was for different reasons. “They don’t like feeling dumb. I’ve been a lot of places, but it’s always the same. They like you until they learn that you could be in college. And that makes the adults mad.”

Mikey makes a dog with tiny stars. “Why?”

“Because I’m wasting potential.” He stares at the star. “I could be doing great things. I should be doing great things.”

Mikey smiles, “Your constellations are really great.”

“Great enough to make mom proud?” He presses it against the wall. “Or to make Raph’s life better?”

“I bet your mom would be proud.” Donnie lays on the bed, knees pulled up to his chest. Mikey lays next to him, hands tucked behind his head and shoes on the wall. “And why isn’t that the adults job? Why are they mad at you for it?”

Donnie shrugs, “I guess I’m not smart enough to know that.”

“Still.” Mikey looks at him. “Bet your mom’s super proud.”

He plays with his hands, looking at the stars. “Yeah?”

Mikey reaches over to squeeze his arm, “Totally.”

They were the perfect pair. They were the ideal friends.

Everything was great, until the rainy night that the Shen brothers appeared on their doorstep and said that they were being moved hours away. If there was a reason for it, Mikey was having a hard time catching it through Donnie’s heartbroken stutters and Raph’s dense silence. And Mikey couldn’t make it better.

He froze there in the living room and all he could think was,

He’s leaving. He’s going away. He’s leaving.

I’m losing my best friend.

And Leo- rude Leo, perfect Leo, stiff Leo, dull Leo, tattle tale Leo (two-in-the-morning drunk laughter Leo, always gets Mikey the best birthday gifts Leo, first to speak up for the little guy Leo) decides to walk up and wrap his arms around the kid who had been no more than a nuisance to him for months, and say, “I’m sorry.”

Mikey watches Donnie break, knees knocking, tears streaming, hands clawing into the fabric of his soaked t-shirt as he blurts that he doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to doesn’t want to why can’t he stay he wants to stay he can’t lose them can’t lose them please please-

Donnie sobs. Raph watches him, motionless.

Their father sets a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I will find you dry clothes.”

“I’m not going back.” Raph says, oddly void of emotion, once again using singular when he meant it to be plural. “They don’t want me.”

His father squeezes, gentle, “I will pass the message that you will be staying over tonight.”

He blinks, like someone in a daze, and looks at him. He mutters. “We’re not supposed to be here.”

His father is quiet. Leo, now in need of a change of clothes himself, says, “It’ll be rude to bother them so late, drag them out here. We can tell them in the morning, right father?”

Their fathers nods. Donnie cries. Mikey scrubs the tears from his cheeks and goes to make everyone hot chocolate.

(And if he crumbles there alone on the kitchen floor while the pot boils, that’s between him and the stove. But the stove will never tell because it can’t, and Mikey will never tell because it’s not Mikey’s place to steal away attention and be this sad when he has it so good.)

When he comes back with the mugs, he finds his father gone and Leo on the rug, running his hands through Donnie’s hair, muttering under his breath, watching Raph.

His best friend, who’s leaving too. Raph stares through the wall.

Mikey sets the mugs down, walks towards him, and wraps his arms around the older teen. He squeezes his eyes shut, cheek pressed into the sticky wet fabric, and says, “I’ll miss you.”

Like a robot learning human affection, his arms slowly inch their way up. Then the hug is being returned, and he grumbles, “You don’t even like me.”

“I like you a lot.” He says, because he learned to while seeing the world through Donnie’s eyes. “You’re a good brother.”

“I’m not.” He bites. “It’s my fault. It’s always my-”

His voice cracks. His mouth shuts audibly.

After a moment, Raph tightens his grip.

His breathing changes. Mikey’s shoulder gets wet.

He thinks it might not be hair that is dripping.

He doesn���t have a clear memory of the rest of the night. He knows that Leo is the only one who drank the hot chocolate, sitting close to Mikey as the others changed. He remembers hugging Donnie, skinny arms clinging around him like they never wanted to let go, and feeling something deep in him tearing when they eventually do. He can see Leo handing Raph his old phone, looking him dead in the eyes like a promise being passed, softly asking, “Text me whenever.”

He wakes up sitting in the armchair, fogged brain taking in Leo’s missing presence and the couch where Donnie and Raph are reclining. Raph’s arm is over his younger twin’s chest, leg hanging off the recliner, free of the blanket that hides most of a friend who’d improved Mikey’s life to the point that he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to go back. Back to friends that he can’t share secrets with and activities that are perfectly safe without smiles that make him feel like he single-handedly brought the sun to a dark planet.

He finds out that Leo’s in the kitchen helping their father make breakfast. They’re talking in low voices, quieting when the rest of the small group walks in. Mikey’s clinging to Donnie’s hand. Donnie doesn’t look at him, but he also doesn’t pull away.

Mikey has to let go so he can go to the van in their driveway.

They get a few steps, before Raph pauses in his tracks.

Without a word, he spins around and charges back up the stairs, throwing himself at their dad. He holds onto him, shaking, and he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“I am proud of how far you’ve come.” Papa soothes as he returns the embrace. “Be safe, young one. Be strong.”

“Yeah.” He pulls away. “Okay.”

And he stomps back to the vehicle, snagging Donnie’s wrist as he goes. Donnie doesn’t fight him, waving before he gets inside, door slamming shut behind his twin.

Mikey waves until the van leaves his sight and then he runs inside.

He locks his bedroom door behind him and stays there.

Hours later, the door unlocks from the outside and Leo comes in.

The light from the stars on his wall is gone, so Mikey throws a pillow. It bounces harmlessly off his side. He’s quiet, sitting down at his desk (Mikey’s desk that Leo claimed because he never used it and Leo didn’t have room for one in his bedroom) to work. He turns on music (Mikey’s playlist- he hates Mikey’s playlist when he’s working) and starts reading some book that doesn’t matter.

And Mikey stares at him and stares at him and stares at him and then whines, over the music, “I don’t want them to leave.”

“I know.” Leo rubs his eyes, sighing. “Me neither.”

And somehow that makes Mikey feel a teeny bit better.

They numb the ache together until the weekend ends. The twins don’t show up and Mikey gets sympathetic back pats and gentle smiles from teachers and it only makes him more miserable because Donnie’s going to some strange place where he won’t get that.

Donnie is always on his mind, in the fires on the tv shows and the drone under his bed and any smiles with a gap and the long boring lectures and the comic that Donnie’s never heard of and the tools that had been moved to the garage and the dead grass in the backyard. He though of him as he sent out birthday invitations, and when Leo pulled out his phone to check for responses that Raph hardly ever gave because his foster family didn’t believe in meat products, giving wifi passwords, or children with technology.

He thought about him as the guests arrived and presents were all opened. He concentrated on him when he blew out the candles.

Mikey thinks about him late that night when he should have been sleeping, teddy bear taken out of his drawer and hugged close to his chest. (Donnie didn’t think it was silly- he cradled it like it mattered- “I had one when mom was still here.”) He hoped that wherever Donnie was, he had something fluffy of his own to cuddle with.

(He should have given him the bear.)

Mikey wakes up miserable, heading downstairs and smiling at a fully dressed Leo (Mikey should probably find his shoes). Leo smiles back and says that father’s out. (He’s driving and they’re going to be on time, so get he better get his butt moving.)

(Leo proceeds to makes them ten minutes late because he forces Mikey find his math textbook before they leave. Mikey doesn’t tell him that he probably won’t be opening it anytime soon.)

Papa isn’t there to pick him up so Mikey’s forced to sit through Leo’s practice. Mikey can’t bear be on the bleachers, so he distracts himself by making sure Leo consistently remembers that he exists (“DID YOU REMEMBER TO PUT ON DEODORANT? YOU KNOW HOW YOU TEND TO SMELL!” “MIKEY!”)

Leo lectures him the entire way home. He refuses to feel any remorse for his actions, pleased to see papa’s car in the driveway.

He goes inside, kicks off his shoes to reveal mismatched socks (“This again, Mikey?”) so Leo will do his laundry, and dashes to find their father for a very good explanation.

“Papa!” He screeches. “I NEED CHEESY BREA-”

He finds his father. And much more.

Donnie and Raph are in the living room, grinning like Mikey does on Christmas morning (Raph knows how to smile?), and Mikey gets two seconds to decide what to do.

So he runs, and Donnie meets him halfway, and as he stands on his tip-toes (did he get tall?), and hugs and hugs and hugs with all the loneliness and pain and love that he’s held inside, he gasps, “YOU DIDN’T COME TO MY PARTY!”

Donnie doesn’t answer, fingers bunching in fabric (like they always do, like he’s always scared to be ripped away), and Raph announces, “It’s not like we didn’t try. Government sucks.”

“Is it official?” Leo questions as he walks up. He hugs Raph, and Raph repropriates, and then they’re splitting apart. “Not really. But Sharon said he could have us ‘til it was.”

“So just more fostering?”

“Basically.”

“What is happening?” Mikey’s voice wobbles in happy betrayal. “Why am I the only one who doesn’t know anything?”

Donnie pulls away, and gestures helplessly, and admits, “They only told me a few hours ago.”

“Wasn’t gonna get your hopes up.” Raph states.

“What he said.” Leo speaks up. (Awful, evil brothers)

Their father adds, “How about you sit down and I explain?”

Mikey wanted to run around and scream with joy, but he sits down right next to Donnie, and learns their family of three is going become a family of five. And like the baby of the family that he still is, Mikey cries. His brothers- all three of them- three brothers- exchange the first set of looks of many that will define their relationship.

And then Donnie’s taking his hand, squeezing their fingers briefly, and smiling with the gap that always proved that someone can be happy despite every reason to feel sad, and pleads, “C’mon, bro. Show me around my new home?”

“You’ve been here.” Mikey laugh, struggling to calm himself down, wiping his snotty nose on his sleeve. “You don’t need me for that.”

“I saw your house.” Donnie beams. “Now I wanna see mine.”

Mikey understands everything unsaid. He’s the Donnie whisperer.

And now he gets to spend the rest of his life listening.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hello, I am about a month out of ankle surgery, no cast, no boot, I can proceed with normal activities but sometimes my ankle just throbs with pain. May I request Logan helping a reader with day to day activities that they can’t do the same anymore and helping them with their pain? Like reader is stubborn and upset they can’t do things quite normally yet, they have to work their way to that point and have to be kind to their body.

I hope you get better soon and I hope this can help, I think we all need a wolverine to look after us.

The mission had been straightforward, at least on paper—get in, retrieve the intel, and get out. But things never went quite as planned, especially not with Logan. He was the kind of man who expected the unexpected, and he always came out on top. You, on the other hand, were still learning that sometimes things went sideways, no matter how careful you were.

The night had been long, the tension between you and Logan thick as you navigated through the enemy base. Everything had gone smoothly until it hadn’t. The explosion caught both of you off guard—a misstep, a trip wire you didn’t see in time. The blast sent you flying, and you landed hard, the impact shooting pain up your leg. Logan was on you in seconds, his enhanced senses already picking up the injury before you could even register it fully.

“Damn it, stay down,” Logan growled, his voice rough as he knelt beside you. He took in the sight of your twisted ankle, the way it was already swelling. “You’ve broken your ankle.”

You bit back a groan, trying to push yourself up, but the pain was overwhelming, making your vision swim. “I’m fine,” you lied, stubborn as ever. “We need to keep moving.”

Logan’s grip on your shoulder tightened, forcing you to stay down. “You’re not goin’ anywhere on that ankle. We need to get you outta here, now.”

You wanted to argue, to insist that you could still make it through the mission, but the pain in your ankle was making it hard to think, let alone move. And Logan’s expression left no room for debate. He was in full protective mode, and there was no way you were getting past him.

Reluctantly, you nodded, letting Logan take charge. He scooped you up into his arms without a word, cradling you against his chest as he made his way out of the enemy base. You hated feeling like dead weight, hated that you couldn’t do anything but hold on as Logan carried you to safety. But there was no denying that the pain in your ankle was unbearable, and every movement sent sharp jolts of agony up your leg.

By the time you made it back to the Blackbird, the pain had dulled to a throbbing ache, but it was clear that your ankle was in bad shape. Logan had already radioed ahead to the mansion, and as soon as you landed, you were whisked away to the med bay.

The next few hours were a blur of painkillers and X-rays, the doctor’s voice a steady drone as he explained the extent of your injury. A clean break, but it would require surgery to set the bone properly. You tried to focus, but all you could think about was how useless you felt, how you’d failed the mission and now you were laid up with a broken ankle.

The surgery went smoothly, or so they told you. When you finally woke up, your leg was wrapped in a cast, your ankle immobilized to give the bone time to heal. The doctor gave you a rundown of the recovery process, but all you heard was how long it would be before you could get back to work—weeks, maybe months before you were back to full strength.

The first few days were rough. You were stubborn, refusing to admit how much pain you were in, but Logan saw right through you. He was always there, a silent, gruff presence that kept you grounded. He helped you with everything—getting out of bed, moving around the mansion, even the simplest tasks like getting dressed. It was frustrating, humiliating even, to need so much help, and your stubbornness only made it worse.

“Stop fightin’ me on this,” Logan said one evening, after he caught you trying to hobble to the kitchen on your own. “You need to rest. You’re only gonna make it worse if you keep pushin’ yourself.”

You glared at him, hating how weak and helpless you felt. “I can’t just sit around and do nothing,” you snapped. “I need to be out there, helping.”

Logan crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “You need to heal. That’s your job right now. You ain’t doin’ anyone any favors by pushin’ yourself before you’re ready.”

His words stung, mostly because you knew he was right. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept. You were used to being strong, to handling whatever was thrown at you. Now, you could barely walk on your own, and it felt like your independence had been ripped away.

Logan seemed to sense the turmoil you were going through, because he softened, his voice losing some of its usual gruffness. “I get it. Bein’ laid up like this sucks. But you’re only gonna get better if you take care of yourself.”

You looked away, the frustration bubbling up again. “I just… I hate feeling like this. Like I can’t do anything.”

Logan sighed, stepping closer. “You’re not gonna be like this forever. But you gotta give your body time to heal. And that means takin’ it easy, even when it pisses you off.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. He was right, of course, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Still, you knew you had to be kinder to yourself, to your body. Pushing through the pain wasn’t going to help you heal any faster.

“I’m trying,” you said finally, your voice small. “It’s just… hard.”

Logan nodded, his expression softening even more. “I know it is. But you’re tough. You’ll get through this.”

His words were a comfort, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this. Logan was there, and he wasn’t going to let you push yourself too hard. It was a small reassurance, but it made all the difference.

The days passed slowly, each one a test of your patience. Logan was always there, whether you wanted him to be or not, helping you with the things you couldn’t do on your own. He was patient, more patient than you expected, and he never once made you feel like a burden.

One evening, after another frustrating attempt to do something on your own, you finally broke down. The pain, the frustration, the sense of helplessness—it all came crashing down, and you found yourself in tears, sitting on the edge of your bed with your casted leg stretched out in front of you.

Logan was there in an instant, kneeling in front of you with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he murmured, his rough voice soothing. “You’re doin’ fine. You’re gonna get through this.”

You shook your head, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I just… I hate this, Logan. I hate not being able to do anything.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “You’re doin’ more than you think. You’re lettin’ yourself heal. That’s the most important thing right now.”

His words broke through the frustration, and you nodded, squeezing his hand. “I just feel so… useless.”

Logan shook his head, his grip on your hand firm but comforting. “You’re not useless. You’re strong. Stronger than you know. You just need to give yourself time.”

You took a shaky breath, the tears slowly subsiding as you leaned into his touch. “I’m trying,” you said again, this time with a little more conviction.

Logan gave you a small, encouraging smile. “That’s all anyone can ask for.”

The days turned into weeks, and slowly, you started to see progress. The pain became more manageable, the swelling in your ankle reduced, and with Logan’s help, you began to regain some of your independence. It wasn’t easy—there were days when the frustration still got the better of you, but Logan was always there, a steady presence that kept you grounded.

As your strength returned, so did your confidence. The exercises the doctor had given you started to pay off, and soon you were able to move around more easily, even if you still needed crutches. Logan was there every step of the way, helping you when you needed it, but also giving you the space to do things on your own when you were ready.

One evening, as you sat together in the mansion’s living room, you looked over at Logan, feeling a swell of gratitude for everything he’d done for you. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice sincere. “For everything.”

Logan glanced at you, his expression softening. “Ain’t no need to thank me. I was just doin’ what needed to be done.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the fireplace crackling nearby. “Still, I appreciate it. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

Logan’s eyes softened, and he gave you a small nod. “You’re stronger than you think, kid. But I’m glad I could help.”

You leaned back against the couch, feeling a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time. The road to recovery was still ahead, but with Logan by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way.

And for the first time since the injury, you truly believed that you’d come out the other side stronger, not just in body, but in spirit too.

[blue-disco-lights]

A little ficlet for Gallavich Week 2025 - for the Rainbow prompt 💕 Thank you @gallavichthings!

Preview above the cut, and the rest is below... full story on AO3.

Mickey is flat on his back - and not in the way he likes. 

Their anniversary weekend, so Ian insisted on another one of his moonlight picnics in the old dugouts. As always, he’d come prepared with a soft blanket, dinner in to-go boxes, and of course, a six-pack of Old Style in his backpack. Because you can’t fuck with tradition.  

His husband actually wanted to look for shooting stars. The sap. 

Ian’s warm hand finds its way into his. And as they lay there, watching the sky (and likely due to the top-tier edibles they enjoyed for dessert), Mickey thinks about color.

How, from the day Ian burst into his life, his world had exploded in it. He closes his eyes as memories take over….

Mickey pounds his fist into his baseball mitt and wonders for the 100th time why his dad all of a sudden cared about them having “afterschool activities.” Not like they were some normal TV family. Mickey’d been in charge of himself since he learned how to walk.

The only reason he got roped into this Little League shit was to fuel Terry’s ego, that much he knew.

It’s bad enough getting into this dumbass uniform, but he has to listen to Coach drone on about “team work”. And getting yelled at when he doesn’t perfectly follow the rules. 

“Milkovich, get back on base or consider yourself benched for the rest of the game!” comes the booming voice, and Mickey just about loses it then. He doesn’t need this, he gets yelled at enough at home.

So he does the next best thing to raising his middle finger in Coach’s face. He unzips his fly and pisses right on the base. He’d never felt more free in his short life.

He looks around the field, smirking at Coach’s fury, the stunned, laughing faces of his teammates - and catches sight of this one kid, absolutely losing his shit on the next base over.

He’s laughing so hard, he’s doubled over, tears streaming down his little freckled face. He swipes the baseball hat off his head … to reveal the brightest red hair Mickey has ever seen. 

Mesmerized, he barely remembers zipping his pants back up, before Coach storms over and leads him off the field. 

Mickey knows he’ll be in trouble with his dad after pulling that stunt… but seeing that kid made it all fuckin’ worth it. 

====

Every memory of their life together after that is in technicolor.

His ratty green scarf, and the blue Gatorade at the Kash & Grab. The red comforter on Mickey’s old bed. The orange glow of the cigarette they shared in the dugouts right after he got out of juvie that first time. Telling Ian he was “fucked for life” and actually believing it.

The hot yellow sun beating down on them as he watched Ian run around the obstacle course, training for the Army. Ian’d green camo pants, how much shit Mickey gave him for looking like such a dork, but loving the way they looked anyway.

The pulsating lights in the Fairy Tale after he’d finally found him there. How they lit up his face when they were standing on that stage together, Ian’s eyes full of challenge. Make your move on me. And so he did. He still remembers how it felt to kiss him in that moment, bathed in blues and indigos. 

And all the moments after that – the orange and pink flowers on that dress he wore at the border. That green tank top Ian wore when he was really sick. Those heinous yellow prison jumpsuits. The orange juice on the Gallagher’s kitchen table. The rainbow Fruit Loops always on tap during Covid. 

The bright blue of the Stargazer Lillies at their wedding. The green of Ian’s tomato garden on their patio, in their home.

Mickey looks up at the violet sky, minutes from turning pitch black. The stars are almost visible.

He turns his head and looks at Ian. Their eyes meet, and he can’t help thinking what a beautiful life they’ve had together. And wonder what vibrant moments lie ahead.

[wtfdemother]

CW: 18+ Foodplay. Dw it’s just whipped cream.

post dividers by tsunami-of-tears

You and König get into a tiff, how do you proceed since he won’t shut up?

It’s simple, ‘Two and a half Men’ in its later seasons was so out of pocket, you actually learned a thing or two. Surprisingly enough you didn’t get the idea from Charlie Harper rip (rest in pussy)

The thought came to mind when leaning your shoulder against the fridge. You try so hard not to roll your eyes as König drones on about… honestly, you forget. You were ready to forget, you just had to convince König to do the same. Then, lightbulb. 💡

He interrupts himself with an annoyed click of his tongue, eyes narrowing down to you swinging the fridge open. Glass condiments clatter gently against the rails. He looks at you puzzled while watching you rummage away. “Was ist da— What the fuck are you doing?”

You ignore the rasp of confusion in his voice from a deepening accent, yanking the canister of whipping cream out. You bring the plastic tip to your lips, his eyes follow your finger and you press down, squeezing a generous glob of whipped cream into your mouth. Your round, puffy cheeks reminded him of a hamster for a minute but the thought quickly evaporates when you sank to your knees.

The absurdity of the situation almost caused him to back out, but you hold him firmly by the back of his thighs. “Mh-hm, mhh,” which he miraculously understood as “Nuh-uh, wait.” He tried to trust the process, he did, watching your fingers fumble with his fly, only to try and back out for a second time. “Ah, Schatz, I really don’t think—” But he shuts himself up. The feel of your mouth wet with cream digs at a spot in his brain, it feels too good. “Oh… Das is gud… Gott…”

König groans, gripping the curls at the back of your head, guiding you to take him deeper. “Oh… Oh, Schatz—” he cuts himself off, hissing a derogatory curse in German. “Where the fuck did you learn this?” You swirled your tongue around the tip before his shaft at half-mast disappeared into your mouth, you felt it harden further on your tongue.

Lewd, squelching noises echo through the quiet kitchen as König leans his weight on the counter, jaw hanging low without a sound. The cream dissolves with your saliva, coating his erection in a heavenly slick as he slowly fucks your mouth. You press the muscle in your mouth flat under his cock, feeling the prominent bulging vein rutting gently against your taste buds. Things get wet and sticky, drool pools from underneath your chin.

“Fuckkk… Liebling, don’t stop—” you sputter and gag around him, the rhythmic clicking of your shared wetness resounded in the open air. He guides you up and down his cock, mind fuzzy yet mindful that you couldn’t take him all the way. No matter, the rapid rise and descent of his chest followed by heavy breathing was a good thing. His responses were getting choppy, his hips bucking forward slightly to further chase that high. Knowing he was getting off this much drenched your panties, you’ll have to bump your clit on that crooked nose of his later on. Maybe even suffocate him.

For now, you picked up the pace and swallowed him whole, burying your nose in his pubic hairs, resting his happy trail right on your forehead while you peered at him above. “You look so beautiful…” he mutters caressing your cheek, returning your gaze below through heavy lidded eyes. “I’m so close, baby…” he resumes his pace, pulling out enough just to ram himself back inside. He really tried to take it easy, but your mouth was such a warm hole and your plan worked a little too well. Your partner’s mind was solely focused on chasing that searing release pooling below the navel. “Please… take all of me, be so good for me and take me…”

Hot tears border on your waterline as you try not to cough, your lips plump and sheen and wrapped so prettily around his throbbing cock. He could cum from the sight alone, you’re being so good for him he can’t take it. He slips a hand down your jaw, feeling his cock protruding down your throat with every thrust of his pelvis. “Ja, ohhh, jaaa… take me, take it all and swallow my cum. Swallow my cum, baby and don’t. waste. a. single. drop.”

He emphasized his words with harsh, brutal thrusts towards the end, releasing a torrent of potent seed down your throat with a guttural groan. He pushes your head down as far as you allowed, feeling his balls tighten against your chin with every pulse of his essence. He tangles his fingers deep into your hair, his vision almost spotting from the intense pleasure as he continues to come inside your mouth.

After the high finally dissipated and his cock softened, König slips himself out of your pretty lips, watching a pearly string of saliva connecting you to the tip. He sinks to the ground and kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue, his touch mindful of your sore and puffy lips. “That was so good, liebling… now, lay down. I want to return the favour.”

König guides you down on the cold tiles then ate you out on the kitchen floor. You ordered take-out and cuddled on the couch afterwards.

[ihatebrainstorm]

Random idea: Cybertronian who scans a vehicle to be their altmode, but has 0 clue what certain functions from said vehicle do

Examples:

Cybertronian with a B737 altmode who doesn't know what aural warning alerts mean, and gets jumpscared by alerts like "TOO LOW GEAR" "SINK RATE SINK RATE"

Cybertronian with aircraft altmode in a snowy region who doesn't realize earth aircrafts need to be deiced or sometimes anti-iced before flying, and just flat out face plants into the snow right after take off

(Ok yeah I'm just thinking about airplanes again shush) But also another thought: Do flying Cybertronians have to learn how to fly when they first come online???? Seekers ig wouldn't stall easily bc fighter jets are designed to not stall- But do others have to practice stall recovery procedures??

I'm partially thinking about how convenient it is that Twitch from Earthspark scanned a drone, since drones to my knowledge are extremely hard to stall?

[dronebiscuitbat]

Flight Practice

Aug 14th, MD Week, Prompt "Flight"

“Um… N?” Uzi's voice was warbly and wary, peering down over the top of a building into the jungle of jagged concrete below, the only light being the ethereal glow of the gas giant and it's orbiting moon to illuminate the broken city.

“Yes?” Her companion replied, cheer written into the base-code of his voice no matter his mood. His silvery hair taking on an almost angelic appearance in the light, a halo of golden lights above his head that served as his eyes. His visor displayed two golden ovals, and his mouth was upturned in a beaming smile.

“I don't know about this.” Uzi looked back at him with her purple eyelights displaying her apprehension, her purple locks becoming slightly disheveled in the breeze, a beanie keeping most of it safe, though her mouth downturn into a frown.

You see, she'd asked N tentatively to give her flying lessons after a sudden and violent transformation that had her murdering and eating a good portion of her classmates during a school trip. And since then, she'd been itching to learn how to use her new wings.

She just… kinda expected them to start on the ground.

“This is the best way to learn how to fly! If you're already high up, then we've already gotten halfway there, right?” N kept his chipper attitude, circling behind her and leaning down to be eye level. Uzi wasn't so confident… the ground looked a long way away.

“I don't even know how to take off! What if I fall?” She replied, throwing her hands forwards and gesturing to the 40 story drop that was laid out in front of her. The disassembly drone in front of her chuckling in return, his much larger frame contrasting with her much smaller one.

“Then I'll catch you.” He assured, releasing his own, bladed wings from his back, making him look all the more angelic as light filtered through them.

Uzi herself took a deep breath, looking back down at the drop before her, and her companion put a heavy, metallic hand on her shoulder.

“You've got this, and I'll be here every step of the way to get you through it. Okay?” He smiled down at her, golden eyes soft and kind as he cocked his head like some curious puppy.

Uzi felt heat come to invade her face, violet LEDs lit up on her visor to mimic a human blush, and she averted her eyes to the concrete roof to avoid looking at him any longer.

“Okay. Fine.” She huffed, only making her much more cheerful companion smile brighter, showing off his fangs.

“First step, bring out your wings.” He backed away gently flapping his own wings in her direction while gesturing to her, she looked down at herself before squeezing her eyes shut and focusing hard on trying to summon her own wings.

She pushed and pushed, but nothing was happening except her face turning more purple as she tried harder and harder, the joints on her mechanical body groaned as she strained them, and small beads of sweat formed on the inside of her visor.

“Woah, Woah! Hey, don't blow a gasket!” N crouched down in front of her, both hands on each of her shoulders as he flashed her a wary smile, “What’s up buddy?”

“Uh… I don’t know how to bring them out, I wasn’t really trying to last time.” Uzi explained, bring her hands together to wring them as N put his thumb and finger underneath his chin, sticking his tongue out as he thought. Uzi couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he looked, which may have been the entire point in him doing it.

“Well… maybe think about how it felt to have them out? Not hungry, obviously, but maybe something you enjoyed while having them out?” He suggested, backing away once more, “Whenever I want my wings, I just think about how nice it is to fly around!”

Something she enjoyed? It wasn’t a lot. She was terrified out of her mind when she’d been transformed and went crazy.

Though… even though they had been falling, talking with N had been really nice, he’d been so understanding, and didn’t once judge her or look scared…

“Hey! You did it!” She heard him exclaim, and she opened her eyes in surprise, not even realizing she’d closed them, she looked backwards and found the dull purple, tattered looking bat wings unfurled from her back, her tail was out too, looking at her curiously. She gave the wings an experimental flap, stretching them out and examining them.

“Awesome! Now all you have to do is crouch down-“ He crouched down, wings spreading out behind him before he lept up into the air with a single mighty flap, sending the newest layer of snow that had fallen onto the roof out in all directions. “-and jump while giving your wings a good flap, you don’t have anti-grav though, so make sure to keep flapping!”

She did her best to mimic his pose from before, crouching down and spreading her wings out behind her, in contrast to him, the lighting did her little favor, instead of being angelic her leathery wings made her look more demonic, the veins within the thin membrane shining through.

Then she jumped, trying to time her flap to be at the same time. And found herself going forward and upwards quickly, she felt herself smile, she did it! She took off! That wasn’t so hard!

Until the second and third flap, where momentum and inexperience caught her off balance and she went tumbling forward into a spin, hurtling to the ground at high speeds.

“OOOOH SHIIIIIIIIIIT” She yelled as she flapped her wings frantically to try and right herself, only causing her to spin faster and making her dizzy, she saw each story fly past her at insane speeds, this was it, she was going to go splat on ancient pavement and be nothing but a black stain on the ground.

She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable, but found it never came. Instead, she landed in a pair of large arms and a warm chassis, which she immediately and instinctively grabbed onto like a cat about to come into contact with water. She trembled as she wrapped her arms and legs around her savior, not caring if she looked silly or not at the moment.

“Well you took off! You just couldn’t stay up…” N laughed, finding a golden blush gracing his face at their proximity, it wasn’t often Uzi was affectionate, even if at the moment that was due to fear. “You good?”

“Y-yeah.” She replied, unconvincingly, and when they reached the top of the building again she was reluctant to let him go, at least until it became slightly awkward and she forced herself to.

“Maybe we can try another way?” N hummed, looking out over the city until a figurative lightbulb appeared over his head. “Hey, I have an idea!”

He bent down in front of her, and pointed to his back, a beaming smile on his face. “Hop on!”

Uzi blushed once more, looking away and out over the building before sighing and clambering onto his back, where his hands came to grip onto her legs, and they took off into the sky, going even higher then before.

“Okay Uzi, spread your wings!” He said once they were gliding high up over the layer of thick fog that clung to the buildings below them, Uzi felt her nerves alight as she looked down.

“What?! It’ll create too much drag! I’ll fly off!” She yelped, gripping onto him more tightly then before.

“No you won’t, trust me!” She grumbled, squeezing her eyes shut and spreading her wings, slowly letting go of N as she felt herself suddenly become weightless.

“Open your eyes!” N’s voice was somewhere below her, and reluctantly she did, finding herself gliding unaided, her wings stretched out above her and the wind whipping up around her, held up by her own wingspan.

“N! I’m flying!” She belted, not feeling this excited once in her entire life, sure she was loosing altitude slowly, but the feeling of the wind underneath her wings was so… freeing.

“Kinda! You’re gliding! Now try flapping!” He was flying belly up, ignoring the laws of physics with his anti-grav just so he could remain where she could see him, and he could remain in saving distance should she start falling again.

She flapped once, the air catching underneath her and bringing her upwards, she smiled as she was brought up closer to the clouds, and found herself laughing as she did it a few more times, enough so that her back touched the underside of a cloud and her wings parted it, leaving her mark on it.

N came up directly below her, smiling as she began to let herself loose altitude, giving her two dorky thumbs up as she giggled at him, a blush on her face she didn’t even try to hide.

“You’re doing great! You can angle your wings to go left and right!”

She did as she was told, tilting her wings so that she tilted left and right as she glided through the air, she got more confident, getting used to the feeling underneath her wings.

“This is amazing!”

N had never seen his friend this happy, and she was doing miraculously well for someone with as little experience as she had, he laughed as she figured out how to force herself downwards, gaining a little bit of speed as she went.

“Just be careful, it’s kinda foggy and any lower there might be-“ A building whipped past him, startling them both as they both looked ahead. Tall dark shapes stretched out before them, hidden by the fog but even from here they could tell that the buildings were dense. -“BUILDINGS!”

N switched over to flying belly down, using his sensors to try to map his way through the quickly approaching buildings even through he couldn’t see them very well, he tried to look for Uzi, but couldn't find her before he had to dodge another building.

Oh no… there was no way Uzi was going to get through all these buildings with her experience, and he couldn't slow down in time without risking hitting a building himself, he frantically looked around, trying to place her.

Finally, he did, just in time to see her come face to face with a dense fallen buildings, and he readied himself to go to catch her when she clipped one.

Only she never did.

She zipped past the first one, expertly gliding into a small hole and popping out the other side completely unscathed. N was taken aback, impressed with the skill.

A flag pole came into view in front of her and she angled her wings to flip over it, body arching to move out of the way and ending facing the same way she started, her face was determined and focused.

It was so… foreign. The way she moved.

He was much too heavy to consider moves like that, dodging buildings at high speeds were difficult, even for him. But she was light enough and small enough to flit over and through buildings no problem.

Another collapsed building got in her way, and instead of trying to dodge it, she scrabbled up it on all fours before taking off again, gliding from building to building without thinking twice.

It was like watching a dance, and he couldn't help the gold tinting his cheeks as he watched her spin into the air to glide through a shattered window, she was beautiful… she was-

“Agh!” He crashed headfirst into a building, chassis crumpling painfully as all of his forward momentum was suddenly stopped by a surprisingly solid concrete wall, the wall cracked when he made contact with it, creating a loud and echoed crack!

And he fell, systems going dark before he hit the ground…

… Rebooting …

“N! Oh robo-god, are you okay!?” There was a voice calling his name and flurried movement above him, every joint and plate he passed ached, and his mouth was uncomfortably dry.

“Eugh…” Was the first noise he made, voice plagued by radio-static and a million miles away, Something thick, warm, and sweet entered his mouth, making him sigh in relief.

His visuals became more clear a moment later as his nanites repaired his flattened body, Uzi was hoving over him, completely unharmed as she held a worker drone arm in her hand, it was still leaking oil. Though her visor was streaked with worry.

“Holy hell, you scared me! Your visor was dark for twenty minutes, I thought you were dead!” Her violet eyelights were filled with tears threatening to fall, and despite feeling like he'd been crushed in a compactor, he couldn't help but feel his core-beat speed up at the though she'd been so worried over him.

“Nah… M’fine. Been through worse.” He croaked put, even though he couldn't remember another time where he could feel his arm snapping back from being turned the exact wrong way.

“How did you hit something and I didn't?” She asked, after another minute of checking him over and seeing all the places his nanites were repairing.

He blushed, so his visor must be fully functional again.

“Oh uh… I got distracted…” He smiled, though awkwardly, now probably wasn't the time to tell her it was her he was distracted by.

“Pfft, see something shiny?” She teased, causing him to laugh too as he felt the last of his wounds get sealed up and the pain slowly subside.

“Yeah… something like that.”

[tadc-and-md-sideblog]

"When Your Boyfriend's Also Your Best Friend"

Chapter 1: Doodles and Flirting Because Class is Boring

AO3 link

Uzi was bored.

Even after everything crazy and nightmarish she’d gone through, she still had a few months left of high school before she could finally graduate and never have to sit through a stupid, dumb class ever again.

The only good thing about it, at least compared to before, was that N and V were attending now, too. They didn’t have much to learn and they didn’t have much time left to be in school, but they’d wanted some semblance of a normal life while they still had a chance. Well— N had been more vocal about all that. V hadn’t seemed to care, but she went along with the enrollment without any protest, so her stance was pretty clear.

It probably helped that her recent best friend, Lizzy, was at the school, too. It must’ve been nice to finally have ordinary friendships after the horrors hers and N’s lives had been before.

Uzi’s teacher only had one very bored tone of voice— she’d never once heard him raise it— so trying to listen to him drone on and on was hard. Although “trying to listen” was generous. Instead, she was passing the time trying to see how many textbooks she could stack without them tipping over, attempting to use her Solver to force the clock to tick faster, and speculating what would happen if all the lights in the building exploded.

Her eyes strayed to her right, and she couldn’t help a tiny smile. In the desk pushed right up against hers, N was doodling cute little pictures of dogs in the margins of his notes.

Their teacher had protested them moving their desks together. “Uzi, please keep the desks in their normal spots.”

“Bite me,” she’d snapped back, jumping up two feet to full-body hug N in protest. N had just given the teacher an awkward smile.

The teacher caved.

Now they got to sit close. At least for the classes they had together.

She grabbed her pencil and leaned over to write further down on N’s paper. Whats dog name?

N paused as she wrote, then grinned wide. He slid his crayon down the page and wrote below her words, maybe Bingo?

like the song? Uzi wrote below that.

BINGO WAS HIS NAMEO, he wrote, his expression looking like he was trying not to laugh. Uzi could so clearly imagine him singing the song, all dramatic and silly, and had to stifle her own giggles.

bingo is cute, she added on the page.

he is very cute, N agreed.

A sly smile crossed Uzi’s face, and she wrote, UR cuter

It wasn’t like she’d waited weeks of crushing on him to start dating officially so she could finally say all the random flirty things to him that popped into her head. Totally not like that. It wasn’t like it had been hard to contain herself whenever he’d done something that was just so unabashedly him, and thus cute. And/or hot. Totally.

And she was totally not taking advantage of their finally-officially-dating status to express at every given opportunity how much she adored him.

Well. Maybe she was. But so what?!

A blush appeared on N’s visor as he read her words, a stupid smile spreading immediately across his face. Fumbling for his crayon, he wrote back, I love you!!!

Fifteen minutes left in class. Uzi was used to making a scene in her classroom, but maybe melting onto the floor while screeching like an unholy demon in delight was a little too much. Especially with N here now.

She scribbled back in all-caps, I LOVE UUUUUU!!!!!!

N looked like he could’ve spontaneously combusted out of sheer happiness.

They both spent the remainder of the class too preoccupied with dumb grins and dumb blushes and hand-holding under the desk to notice that the time was quickly passing.

-

“Did you actually take any notes?” Uzi asked him as they walked down the hall afterwards towards their lockers.

“I did for the first half.” A crumpled-up piece of paper came flying from somewhere behind them, aimed straight at Uzi, but N just knocked it away with his tail and continued walking without drawing any attention to it. “I don’t think there’s gonna be a quiz for a few weeks, though. Right?”

Uzi shrugged. “No clue.”

“Can you teach me that hacking trick you do?” N asked as she stood up on a stack of books to start rifling through her locker. “Maybe we can both do that so we can just skim through each other’s memories of the classes for when we need to remember stuff for tests and stuff!”

Uzi grinned mischievously up at him. “Sure can, dude! They teach us that in Psych 102.”

N’s eyes went hollow. “Wait, they teach us how to hack each other?”

“Yep! The only useful thing I’ve learned here.” Uzi cackled. “Teacher got mad at me once for using the same skills he was teaching. In class. I ended up setting a dude’s head on fire for like a week.”

“Oh. Heh.” N scratched the back of his head, adjusting his hat slightly. “I think I remember that guy.”

Uzi paused for a moment, then slammed her locker shut and twisted to face her boyfriend head on. “Anywaaaay. Whaddaya wanna do after school?”

N’s face lit up and he clasped his hands together with a little bounce on his feet. “Can we go flying together?”

---

next up, a date in the sky >;D

[literaryavenger]

Captain America: Civil War

Summary: When on a mission in Lagos things don't go as you expected, Secretary Ross offers the team a solution.

Pairing: Platonic!Avengers x F!Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of violence. Language. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: It's only half of January and I've already been sick, great! Anyway, basically all the other parts of this story were queued and ready to go, so I got some time to rest but now I'm here writing with a fever! So, if anything doesn't make sense or I missed some mistakes, that's why. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

After months of tracking down Rumlow, you finally have a chance to get him once and for all.

You’re in Lagos, sitting at a cafe.

“All right, what do you see?” Steve’s voice comes in your ear. You know he’s talking to Wanda, she’s still learning how to be an Avenger.

“Standard beat cops,” she looks around her. “Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target.”

“There’s an ATM in the south corner, which means…” he trails off letting Wanda finish his sentence.

“Cameras.” she promptly says.

“Both cross streets are one way.” Steve keeps going.

“So compromised escape routes.” Wanda reasons.

“Means our guy doesn't care about being seen, he isn't afraid to make a mess on the way out.” Steve says, “You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?”

“Yeah, the red one?” she asks “It’s cute.”

“It's also bulletproof,” you discreetly point out  ”which means private security, which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us.”

“You guys know I can move things with my mind, right?” she says and you smirk.

“Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.” Natasha answers from a few tables away.

“Anybody ever tell you you're a little paranoid?” you hear Sam ask and try hard to contain your laughter.

“Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?” Natasha says and you can see her smirking.

“Eyes on target, folks. This is the best lead we've had on Rumlow in six months. I don't want to lose him.” Steve says in our comms.

“If he sees us coming that won't be a problem.” Sam says. 

“Yeah, he kind of hates us.” you add.

There’s a minute of silence as you all keep an eye on your surroundings, then you hear Steve’s voice again. “Sam, see that garbage truck? Tag it.”

You turn around just in time to see Redwing flying under it to scan the truck.

“Give me X-ray.” Sam orders the drone. “That truck’s loaded for max weight. And the driver’s armed.”

“It’s a battering ram.” Natasha says and your eyes widen a little.

“Go now!” Steve says and before the words are even out of his mouth you’re moving.

“What?” Wanda asks confused.

“He’s not hitting the police.” you say and then you’re all running in the truck’s direction.

Steve and his supersoldier ass get there first, then Sam and Wanda who can fly, while you and Nat are stuck driving your motorcycles as fast as you can, but can still hear the conversation through the comms.

“Body armor, AR-15's.” Steve says “I make seven hostiles.”

You hear some gun fire and then Sam “I make five.”

“Sam.”- Wanda says and, after a few seconds, Sam again “Four.”

“Rumlow’s on the third floor.” Sam says, then Steve says in his Captain voice “Wanda, just like we practiced.”

“What about the gas?”-you hear her ask.

“Get it out.” he orders. You can see the green and red whirlpool from the street.

“Rumlow has a biological weapon.” Steve after a few minutes, just as you and Natasha get there.

“We’re on it.” she says and basically jumps off her motorcycle and it skids into an agent.

You make a sharp turn and come to a sudden stop in front of an agent on your right side, so you push your left leg off the bike and, twisting your body, you kick the guy hard on the stomach while also dismounting the motorcycle.

When you turn around Nat cocks her eyebrow at you and you shrug. “What? I’m not throwing my bike at these assholes.” she rolls her eyes at you as you two keep taking out soldiers.

You can see Nat getting dragged by Rumlow, but you’re too busy fighting off some agents to help her. You vaguely hear him saying ‘I don't work like that no more’ and frown, you manage to take out the last one around you and, just as you turn, you see Rumlow launch a grenade into the truck and say “Fire in the hole.”

You run towards it, knowing Natasha’s probably in it, but it explodes before you can get close and do anything, the door flying and Natasha falling out of it coughing.

Once you’re sure she’s okay, you turn around but Rumlow’s already gone.

“Sam. He's in an AFV heading north.” you hear Steve say and, sharing a nod with Natasha, you get back onto your bikes and run to catch up with the truck.

“I got six, they're splitting up.” Sam says just as you and Natasha get to where they ditched the truck.

Natasha jumps onto a car and then another and you follow her. “I got the two on the left.” she says.

“I got the middle!” you say and start your pursuit.

“They ditched their gear. It's a shell game now.” you hear Steve say as you run after your two guys. “One of them has the payload.”

Just as you manage to catch up to your guys and knock one of them out, you can hear Sam saying “He doesn't have it. I’m empty.”

You quickly take down the other guy and search through them. “I struck out, too.”

Then you hear Natasha say “Payload secure.” and you allow yourself to relax.

“Thanks, Sam.” She adds.

“Don't thank me.” he answers and you frown, confused as you start making your way back.

“I’m… not thanking that thing.” is all Natasha needs to say for you to understand, and you roll your eyes.

“His name is Redwing.” Sam corrects her.

“I'm still not thanking it.” she says.

“He's cute. Go ahead, pet him.” he says and you can’t help but laugh.

Your amusement is cut short as you hear Steve’s grunts, clearly still in a fight and you try to move faster to make your way to him.

You catch up right after Wanda, just as Rumlow says “And you're coming with me.” and activates the bomb vest he’s wearing.

You don’t have time to even try and cover yourself as Wanda keeps the blast contained in a ball around Rumlow, his screams the only thing that can be heard.

She launches him in the air and the ball of energy explodes too close to the building next to it, setting a couple of floors on fire.

As you all watch in horror, you barely register Steve asking Sam for Fire and Rescue as you put your hands on Wanda’s shoulders and turn her away from the building. You let her rest her head on your shoulder as she starts crying, your own shocked attention still on the building.

This is not good.

-

It’s been a rough couple of days for the team after the mission in Lagos.

You’re all back at the compound now, and you’re on your way to the conference room to wait there for Tony when you pass Wanda’s room and hear her talking to Steve.

“Rumlow said ‘Bucky’ and… all of a sudden I was a 16-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn.” Steve pauses “And people died. It's on me.”

“It's on both of us.” Wanda counters.

“This job…” Steve starts “we try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everybody. But if we can't find a way to live with that, next time… maybe nobody gets saved.” 

You see Vision approach and keep walking to make your way to the conference room, exchanging a knowing nod with him.

When you get there you’re a little startled to see The Secretary of State, but you sit down at the table in silence.

Once everyone gets there, Steve sits at the head of table, to his left Sam, then Vision and then Wanda, to his right you then Natasha, then Rhodey and Tony is sitting in a chair by himself to the right of the table.

Secretary Ross is on his feet in front of the table and, once everyone takes a seat, he starts talking.

“Five years ago, I had a heart attack. I dropped right in the middle of my back-swing. Turned out it was the best round of my life, because after 13 hours of surgery and a triple bypass… I found something 40 years in the Army had never taught me: Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some… who would prefer the word ‘vigilantes’”

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asks.

“How about ‘dangerous’?” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Definitely not the word you were expecting “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

Ross activates a screen behind him and News footage from past Avengers and SHIELD matters flash on the screen as he speaks.

“New York.” A Chitauri leviathan. Terrified citizens. A soldier firing a gun. The Hulk smashes into a building and sends a dust cloud that engulfs the camera. Rhodey looks regretful and he glances behind him at Natasha.

“Washington DC.” The three Insight helicarriers, firing on each other. The destroyed Triskelion. A helicarrier crashing into the Potomac and throwing up a massive wave, engulfing citizens and the camera. You and Sam look at each other, then down.

“Sokovia.” Terrified citizens, running. The city rising. A building falling over. Everyone’s eyes are glued to the screen.

“Lagos.” The burning building. Paramedics moving a body. A dead girl. Wanda is particularly affected by the footage from Lagos. Steve sees this and intervenes.

“Okay. That's enough.” Steve says, looking at Wanda.

Secretary Ross nods to his aide and the images disappear, then he starts talking again.

“For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.” he places a thick document on the desk and passes it to Wanda. She looks at it and then slides it over to Rhodey. “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”

“The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place.” Steve points out. “I feel we've done that.”

“Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” Steve looks up and meets Ross's eyes. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes… you can bet there'd be consequences.”

You narrow your eyes at him. They’re people, not weapons. Before you can voice your thoughts he goes on. “Compromise. Reassurance. That's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.” He points at the Accords.

“So, there are contingencies.” Rhodey says, familiar with the politics by now.

“Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.” Steve glances at Tony “Talk it over.”

He starts to walk away when you speak up for the first time. “And if we come to a decision you don't like?”

Ross stops and looks back at you. “Then you retire.” he deadpans.

You simply nod, trying to stifle a grin and, when you look at Natasha, you can see she’s doing the same.

He leaves with his aide and there’s a moment of silence before you all get up and walk quietly to the common room. Some sitting, some standing and Tony laying down on a chair. And then the discussion starts.

-

“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have.” Rhodey says to sam. You’ve lost track of how long the team has been discussing.

“So let's say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

“117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam,” He leans in to look at Sam since you’re currently between the two men. “and you're just like, ‘No, that's cool. We got it.’”

“Why am I always in the middle of this?” you say, a little exasperated at the two that are almost glaring at each other now, you make eye contact with Nat and she clearly feels the same way you do.

“How long are you going to play both sides?” Sam says, ignoring your comment.

“I have an equation.” Vision jumps in and everyone looks at him.

“Oh, this will clear it up.” you say sarcastically and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.” Vision explains.

“Are you saying it's our fault?” Steve asks.

“I'm saying there may be a causality.” Vision clarifies, before going on “Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom.” Rhodey says and you roll your eyes while Sam glares at him.

“Tony. You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.” Natasha points out.

“It's because he's already made up his mind.” Steve says.

“Boy, you know me so well.” Tony says sarcastically and gets up, rubbing his head. “Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache.”

He walks to the kitchen and grabs a mug before continuing. “That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort- Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

He puts his phone in a basket and taps it, the phone projects an image of a smiling young man. He looks down, then back up, and pretends to notice the picture for the first time. “Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.” Everyone is listening to him intently as he seems to be having a little meltdown, but his words are clearly affecting the whole team.

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.” He pauses and takes a pill with some coffee, then faces you all. “There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don't give up.” Steve says.

“Who said we're giving up?” Tony promptly answers.

“We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions.” Steve counters. “This document just shifts the blame.”

“I'm sorry. Steve. That- that is dangerously arrogant.” Rhodey says. “This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the World Security Council, it's not SHIELD, it's not HYDRA.”

“No, but it's run by people with agendas, and agendas change.” you interject, seeing Steve’s point.

“That's good. That's why I'm here.” Tony says, pointing at you. “When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”

“Tony, you chose to do that.” you tell him, then Steve talks, nodding at you.

“She’s right. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.” Steve says.

“If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later.” Tony reasons. “That's the fact. That won't be pretty.”

“You're saying they'll come for me.” Wanda speaks up for the first time since this discussion started.

“We would protect you.” Vision says confidently.

“Could we?” you say and everyone looks at you, so you elaborate. “If we don’t sign this we’re criminals for even trying to keep her safe. If we do sign, it’ll be our job to come for her if we get ordered to.”

There’s a moment of silence while you all think about this, before Natasha speaks up. “Maybe Tony's right.”

You all look at her, surprised. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-” she gets interrupted by Sam.

“Aren't you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?”

“He’s not wrong, Tasha.” You add.

“I'm just… I'm reading the terrain.” She explains. “We have made… some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.”

“Focus up.” Tony says and looks at Natasha, clearly amused. “I'm sorry, did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?” you roll your eyes.

“Oh, I want to take it back now.”

“No, no, no. You can't retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case closed--I win.”

They all start to talk over each other, but you’re focused on Steve’s phone that you can see over his shoulder since you’re standing right behind him. He gets a text that says ‘She’s gone. In her sleep.’ and you frown, watching Steve quickly get up.

“I have to go.” is all he says while dropping the Accords on the coffee table and, when he exits the room, you exchange a worried glance with Sam.

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham

[thebunnednun]

You're my Coffee Chapter 4

Shouta Aizawa x Pro hero/Teacher! Reader

After receiving a distressing call from a Japanese hospital, you learn your best friend Nemuri Kayama (Midnight) has briefly awoken from her coma and is desperately screaming for you.

She makes a final request: take care of her students if she doesn't survive.

Chapter 4: Close call

Summary:

You get to have a moment of honesty with Izuku, go out with your new 'friends', help a sad baddie, and clean Kayama's desk without bawling your eyes out!   Before getting caught by banana man.

Songs for this chapter:

Stressed out by 21 pilots It's always a good time - C. Rae Jetson Wish you were here - Avril Lavigne <---- This one really hits hard

ON WITH THE SHOW!!~

“Psst, new girl.”

At first, you ignored the voice, keeping your eyes fixed on the board. But the whisper persisted, tugging at your attention like an annoying fly. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, determined to stay focused. Finally, you relented, glancing out of the corner of your eye to see who was trying to get your attention.

It was Shinso, his violet eyes narrowed in a mixture of boredom and mischief. He tilted his head slightly, clearly trying to catch your gaze again, but you refused to give in. You could feel his stare practically burning a hole in the side of your head, and the corner of his mouth twitched as if he knew he was getting under your skin.

You tightened your grip on your pen, determined to ignore him. But he wasn’t about to give up so easily. With a sly grin, Shinso leaned forward slightly, as if daring you to react. You let out a silent huff, shifting in your seat and then, with calculated precision, you kicked the leg of his desk with your heel.

The sound was soft but sharp enough to make him stop in his tracks. His eyes widened in surprise for a split second before he smirked, a glint of amusement flashing in his gaze. You shot him a look that clearly said, "Knock it off," and he gave a slight nod, leaning back in his chair.

Just as you thought the exchange was over, something small and rectangular landed on your desk with a light thud. You blinked, looking down to see a neatly folded piece of paper. Opening it, you found a list of phone numbers scribbled inside—Mina, Denki, Kirishima, Ochako, Tsu, Jirou, Momo, and even Iida. A small note at the bottom read, 

"In case you need anything. Welcome to 2-A!"  

‘Fuck they’re so sweet.’

Your heart warmed at the gesture, but a pang of guilt tugged at you for how you’d reacted to Shinso earlier.

Without drawing any attention, you reached into your purse and pulled out a cookie wrapped in a napkin, courtesy of Taishi. Glancing around to make sure Aizawa wasn’t watching, you discreetly dropped the cookie onto Shinso’s foot under his desk. He looked down, his eyes narrowing in confusion, before his lips quirked into a half-smirk as he realized what you’d done. With a quick, subtle motion, he swiped the cookie before anyone else could notice.

You propped open your compact from your purse, using the mirror to catch a glimpse of his expression. Shinso took a quiet bite of the cookie, his smirk softening into something almost resembling appreciation. You couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction, knowing you’d made amends in your own way.

Returning to your “schoolwork,” you flipped open your sparkly spiral notebook, its pages already decorated with doodles and random notes. You pretended to jot down whatever Aizawa was teaching, though in reality, your pen sketched out small, intricate designs along the margins. 

Aizawa’s voice was a steady, almost soothing drone in the background. Despite his gruff appearance and no-nonsense attitude, there was something comforting about the way he spoke, even if he sounded like he was always on the verge of falling asleep.

Feeling a bit more settled now, you continued to sketch and pretend to take notes, you thought back to what you knew about Aizawa from Mimi. He wasn’t that much different from what she’d described—gruff, strict, but deeply caring in his own, quiet way. You’d never formally met him before now, having been back home for your licensing, and there was a good chance she hadn’t mentioned you to him either. 

Considering all the trouble you used to get into, she probably didn’t want to say until you were ready. 

You glanced up from your doodles, taking the opportunity to observe the rest of the class. Mina was doodling little hearts in the margins of her own notes, her golden eyes darting occasionally toward the front of the room to make sure Aizawa wasn’t looking her way. 

Denki was trying to discreetly charge his phone under the desk, the faint crackle of electricity barely noticeable. Kirishima was scribbling notes furiously, his brow furrowed in concentration as if every word Aizawa spoke was pure gold.

Ochako and Tsu were sharing a textbook, whispering quietly to each other while Jirou tapped her pencil against her desk in time with the soft music still playing from her earphone. Momo was perfectly poised, her notes meticulously organized and her attention fully on Aizawa, while Iida sat ramrod straight, his eyes fixed on the board with unwavering focus.

‘Let’s take a closer look.’

You allowed your aura to gently brush against the energy wavelengths in the room, surveying what everyone was going through and feeling. 

The calm you had spread earlier was still lingering, but there were traces of nervousness, excitement, and the usual teenage uncertainty. 

Izuku’s energy was a mix of curiosity and concern, his thoughts likely still on the note that had been intercepted. He glanced at you from time to time, as if trying to gauge your mood.

Sero, Denki, and Aoyama were visibly struggling to stay awake. Sero’s head kept nodding forward before he jolted himself awake, a thin line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. 

Denki’s eyes were half-closed, his body slumped over his desk as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. ‘Probably should just wait to charge your phone dude.’ Aoyama, ever the dramatic, had his hand elegantly draped over his forehead, his other arm supporting his head as he fought a losing battle against sleep. 

‘At least he looks elegant?’

Kirishima was still valiantly trying to take notes, but Bakugou, sitting next to him, kept pinching his arm to keep him awake. Every time Kirishima started to drift off, Bakugou would give him a sharp pinch, and Kirishima would jolt upright, rubbing his arm and muttering a tired “thanks, bro.” Despite Bakugou’s brooding aura and seemingly calm exterior, you could sense a storm of emotions churning beneath the surface. He exuded a mix of frustration and protectiveness, his energy crackling with intensity.

‘Awe, grumpy and sunshine.’

Mina was nervously shaking her leg, her vibrant pink aura soured with gray anxiety. She kept glancing around the room, her hands trembling slightly as if she had pins and needles. Next to her, Kaminari was trying to both stay awake and comfort her by covering her hands with his own, his warmer touch helping to steady her shaking. His aura radiated a gentle warmth, something like candle light, a vibrant contrast to the flickers of nervous energy you could see in Mina’s.

Momo and Sato both seemed hungry but with no appetite. Momo’s stomach growled softly, but she ignored it, her face set in a determined but slightly pained expression. Sato, similarly, rubbed his belly absentmindedly, his eyes distant and unfocused. You could feel the low energy levels in their auras, a sign of their body’s need for sustenance clashing with their lack of desire to eat.

Todoroki sat behind Izuku stoically, his expression calm and composed, but his aura told a different story. Internally, he was distressed, his energy a swirling mix of cold and hot, reflecting his dual quirk. He maintained a serene exterior, but you could sense the turmoil brewing inside him, like a volcano waiting to erupt. 

You had to give it to the kid for not being irritable but if he snapped right now– you couldn’t say you didn’t see it coming. 

Behind you, Shinso’s aura was a mix of exhaustion and something darker. His complexion was pale, and the way his eyes blinked when the lights flickered hinted at sensitivity or perhaps reliving a traumatic memory. He radiated a quiet strength, but you could tell he hadn’t slept well in a long time, his energy levels perpetually low. You wanted to clock him for insomnia but you didn’t know him that well, yet. 

Iida was sitting rigidly, taking deep breaths to steady himself. His aura was a mix of longing and determination, his eyes focused but distant, as if he were trying to hold onto something just out of reach. You could sense the deep sense of responsibility weighing heavily on his shoulders, his energy tinged with a subtle sadness.

Asui now had an obvious headache, her hand pressed to her temple as she tried to concentrate. Her usually calm and collected aura was disrupted by waves of discomfort, her energy levels dipping as she struggled to keep up with the lesson. Ochako, seated next to her, was holding her stomach, her aura flickering with unease and mild pain. You could tell she was trying to tough it out, but her discomfort was palpable. 

‘Is it Shark week or is the lunch fighting back?’

Shifting over, Hagakure’s stress levels were alarming. Even though she was invisible, you could almost see her clutching her chest, her tie loosened in a rare display of dishevelment. Her aura was a chaotic swirl of anxiety and tension, her energy erratic and unsettled. You wanted to hug her right there and then but that would be weird without context and you had to remember you were still an adult. 

Next to her, Ojiro was flexing his numb tail after being still for so long, his aura steady but tinged with mild discomfort. His energy was calm, but the numbness in his tail was clearly bothering him, making him shift in his seat every few minutes.

Jirou also looked to be in pain, her head gently slumping against her desk. Her aura was a steady rhythm of discomfort, her earphones doing little to block out whatever was causing her pain. Momo, always prepared, quickly slid her and the other girls something, likely a painkiller, which Jirou accepted with a grateful nod before trying to discreetly pass it along.

Next to you Shoji’s aura was heavy with something weighing on his chest. He was slowly flexing each of his limbs, his energy methodically moving through his body as if trying to work out the tension. Behind him, Koda, on the other hand, was trembling, his aura a mix of anxiety and cold. But he was seated right under the AC unit, and you couldn’t tell if his shivers were from the cold air or the anxiety radiating off him in waves. He was staring longly out of the window and you could relate to wanting to jump out (responsibly) and just be free for the rest of the school day. 

You turned your attention back to Izuku, noting how his hands were on his shoulders, trying to politely roll them without being a distraction. His aura was still a jumble of emotions, but there was a steady pulse of determination running through it, he had a very indomitable spirit. He was also staring at his hands as if they weren’t really his– which they technically weren’t– and you wanted to hug him too. 

You decided to throw them another bone and disbursed some calming energy from your own aura, hoping to bring a bit of peace to your classmates. You may need to take a fat nap in Rumi’s apartment and inhale Taishiro’s dinner spread but you don't mind. The kids were strong but they were still that– kids. And they were worth it. 

As the calming waves spread through the room, you noticed the immediate effects. 

Sero, Denki, and Aoyama stopped struggling against sleep, their breathing evening out as they finally succumbed to a peaceful nap. Kirishima looked more focused, no longer needing Bakugou’s pinches to stay awake. Mina’s shaking subsided, and Kaminari gave in to placing his head on the desk.

Even Bakugou’s brooding aura seemed to lighten slightly, though he still exuded an intensity that made you wary. Todoroki’s internal distress eased a bit, his aura settling into a more balanced state. Shinso’s tired eyes softened, a hint of gratitude flickering in his gaze. Iida’s breaths became more even, the longing in his aura less pronounced. Asui’s headache seemed to lessen, and Ochako’s discomfort faded into the background.

Hagakure’s stress levels dropped, her aura becoming more stable and less chaotic. Ojiro stopped flexing his tail as frequently, and Jirou’s pain seemed to ease thanks to Momo’s quick assistance. Shoji’s heavy aura lightened, and Koda’s trembling subsided. 

With their energies relaxed, you try to focus on Aizawa’s lecture, but your thoughts keep drifting.  You weren’t fully licensed to practice yet, but the urge to help was strong. Maybe if you used some of the methods you’d learned, you could bring them out of their shells. 

If some of them struggled with outward expression, perhaps being a safe space or creating one would help. But what if they weren't struggling with expressing themselves but felt as if they were dropping hints that no one noticed? That could be the case for someone like Hagakure or Todoroki. 

You shake your head, feeling a wave of doubt. ‘Jeez, why did Nemarui think you could do this?’ The thought nags at you, a persistent whisper in the back of your mind. You glance down at your notebook, and before you realize it, you're sketching her—Nemarui, as you first met her. She’s not in her hero uniform, just normal clothing, her blue eyes warm and gentle.

The image changes with each stroke of your pen. Now, she’s there, bailing you out of jail, her expression firm yet kind. Another memory—she’s in formal attire, defending you in court, her voice strong and unwavering. The last image is from a simpler time, in her kitchen, making pancakes while Rumi playfully bickered with you over who got the first stack. “Focus on your homework,” Nemarui had said, a soft smile on her lips.

You hadn’t thought about that in a while. The nostalgia wraps around you, offering a brief comfort, but then you look up, and the weight of the room returns. Some of the kids look teary-eyed now, the emotions in the room rising like a tide threatening to overwhelm.

‘Ah shit!’

With a deep breath, you quickly shift your aura, flooding the room with calming, positive vibes. The atmosphere gradually changes, the tension easing as your energy spreads out. You can almost see the relief in their faces, a few of them blinking back their tears.

This was why you were here. Maybe you weren’t fully licensed yet, and maybe you had doubts, but you could still help. Even if it was just by being a calming presence, a safe space in a chaotic world.

As the bell rings, the room fills with the sound of shuffling papers and stretching limbs. Those who had dozed off—Sero, Denki, and Aoyama—are gently nudged awake by their desk partners. Sero groans, rubbing his eyes, while Denki stretches his arms above his head, yawning loudly. Kirishima, who had been pinched awake by Bakugou earlier, stands and cracks his neck, looking more energized than before. The atmosphere in the room feels lighter, more relaxed.

Mina is the first to move, practically leaping from her seat to give you a tight hug. Her energy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile as you return the embrace. “The others and I want to chat outside for a bit before you head home. Is that cool?” her voice was bubbly.

You nod, grateful for her warmth. “Totally, and thanks for being so kind today, Mina. I really appreciate it.”

She grins, a little sheepish. “Ah, it’s nothing. We’re all just glad you’re okay.” As you both pull away, Momo steps up, her demeanor calm and composed as always. “I could walk you to Principal Nezu’s office if you’d like,” she offers, adjusting her school bag over her shoulder. “Just to see if you’ll be dorming with us.”

You smile at her thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Momo, but I’ll figure that out with my mentor, Mirko-san. I appreciate the note earlier.” Momo nods, understanding. “Of course. If you need anything, we’re all here.”

Before you leave, you turn to Shinso, who is lazily gathering his things. “Sorry about kicking your desk earlier,” you say, feeling a bit guilty. He shrugs, a small smirk playing on his lips. “No harm done. Thanks for the cookie, by the way.”

You return the smirk with a nod, then turn to Izuku, who’s busy organizing his notes. You slip him a small piece of paper, your fingers brushing against his. He looks up at you with curiosity in his eyes, and opens it, “Meet me on the roof after everyone’s gone. Don’t get followed.”

Izuku’s eyes widen slightly, but he nods, tucking the note into his pocket. You give him a reassuring smile before stepping back to your desk. You hadn’t taken out much, just a few things that now find their way back into your multicolored butterfly bookbag. You grab your Juicy Couture purse, feeling its familiar weight in your hand.

As you head toward the front of the room, Denki calls out, “Don’t get eaten!” His tone is playful, but before he can say anything else, Jirou grabs him by the ear and starts dragging him out of the classroom, muttering something about not getting detention.

You chuckle to yourself as you watch them leave, the last of the students filtering out of the room. Now, it’s just you and Aizawa.

The door closes behind you, leaving the room in a comfortable silence. Aizawa, who had been sipping from his mug of coffee, sets it down and looks at you with those tired, yet perceptive eyes. The atmosphere shifts, the lightness from moments before replaced with something more serious, more focused. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself for the conversation ahead.

It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, and you find yourself shifting slightly under the weight of his scrutiny. That dark blue aura washing over him in lumpy waves. 

You wouldn’t take anything too seriously– yes, you were a grown woman pretending to be a student at your best friend's work and you can see how weird it was. But everyone else could fuck off because you didn’t see any other adult getting on these kids level to comfort them. 

You’re not sure what to expect from this conversation. He’s a man of few words, and despite what you’ve heard from others you don’t know him well enough to predict his reaction. You’ve always been good at reading people, but Aizawa is almost an enigma, a blank canvas that offers no clues. 

You nod, understanding. “I wasn’t trying to disrupt anything, sir. I just… I thought it might help with—” You pause, searching for the right words. “—with morale, maybe.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Morale? You think passing notes during class is going to boost morale?”

You resist the urge to fidget, keeping your gaze steady. “Not the note itself, but the connection it represents.”

Aizawa leans back in his chair, his expression softening just a fraction. “You’re not wrong. But there are better ways to show that without undermining classroom discipline.”

You nod again, this time with more confidence. “I understand. I’ll be more mindful in the future.”

He studies you for another long moment, then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re new here, and you’re still finding your footing. I get that. But this isn’t an ordinary school, and your classmates aren’t ordinary students. What they’re going through, what they’ve already been through… it’s not something you can fix with a few kind words or gestures.”

His words sink in, and you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt. You’ve always wanted to help, to be a source of support for others. But this is different. This is more complicated, more dangerous than anything you’ve ever dealt with.

‘Teenagers.’

“I know,” you say quietly. “But I still want to try. Even if it’s just in small ways.” You shift and your bracelets make soft clinks against each other. 

Aizawa’s gaze softens further, and for the first time, you see a hint of understanding in his eyes. “Just remember that this isn’t a one-person job. You’re here to learn, just like they are. Don’t take on more than you can handle.”

You nod, the weight of his words settling on your shoulders. “I won’t.”

He leans forward, crossing his arms on the desk. “You’ve got potential, but you need to be careful. These kids are dealing with a lot, and the last thing they need is someone adding to their stress.”

You swallow hard, the responsibility of your role sinking in even deeper. “I’ll do my best to help, not to hinder.” He doesn’t know why you're saying this more for yourself than for him. But you don’t care, you never really liked authority figures, ironically. 

Aizawa watches you for a moment longer before nodding. “Good. Now, about this note business—let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again, at least not during class.”

“Understood,” you reply, your tone sincere.

He dismisses you with a wave of his hand, and you turn to leave, but not before pausing at the door. “Thank you, Aizawa-sensei. I appreciate the advice.”

He doesn’t respond, but you catch the slightest nod from him as you step out into the hallway.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The hallway is empty, the sounds of students heading to their next classes fading into the distance. You glance at the clock on the wall. You still have a few minutes before you’re supposed to meet Izuku on the roof and the others at their lockers. 

As you make your way toward the stairs, your thoughts drift back to the conversation you just had. Aizawa’s words echo in your mind, a reminder of the delicate balance you’ll need to maintain here. You’ve been given a chance to make a difference, but you’ll need to be careful, thoughtful, and above all, patient.

You reach the stairs and begin to climb, each step bringing you closer to the roof, and to whatever comes next.

As you climb the stairs, your mind replays the conversation you just had with Aizawa. The weight of his words still lingers, but so does something else—something subtle yet significant. The conversation gave you more than just advice; it gave you insight.

During your time in the classroom, you couldn’t help but analyze everything about him. His energy, his aura, even the state of his desk—all of it painted a picture of who Aizawa is beneath the surface. 

The scattered papers, the files meticulously organized but clearly well-used, the open email on his phone—it all told a story. You noticed the way his eyes flickered with a mix of weariness and determination, the way his shoulders tensed slightly when he mentioned the students’ struggles, the way his hands rested heavily on his desk as if carrying an unseen burden.

You piece it all together, forming a clearer understanding of the man who just sat across from you. ‘ He probably feels like he failed them,’ you think to yourself. ‘ They’re alive, so that’s good, but a lot of them are still really injured—some inwardly, some outwardly, mostly both.’ You begin to grasp why he’s so tired, why he seems so worn down despite his firm exterior. The battles these students have faced didn’t just leave scars on them; they’ve left marks on him too.

It’s more than just physical exhaustion. It’s the weight of responsibility, the strain of knowing that despite all his efforts, his students are still suffering. You see now that he’s not just tired—he’s carrying the weight of every injury, every emotional scar, every sleepless night his students have endured. And in his mind, no matter how hard he fights for them, it’s never quite enough.

You also caught the subtle ways he was trying to assess you, not just as the student you’re posing as, but judging from that open email on his phone– as the hero you’re supposed to be teaching next week. It’s a careful dance of figuring out how the dust is going to settle once you get everything you need but you don’t feel too bad about it right now. 

Your loyalty lies with Kayama not Banana man. 

Lost in these thoughts, you almost don’t notice that you’ve reached the top of the stairs. The cool breeze hits your face as you push on the door and step out onto the roof, pulling you from your reverie. Your eyes immediately land on a familiar mop of green hair, Izuku standing near the edge, waiting for you.

He turns as he hears the door close behind you, his expression shifting from anxious to relieved when he sees you. You take a moment to observe him, not just his posture or his expression, but the way his energy feels—still slightly jittery, like he’s carrying too much on his shoulders, but with a resolve that’s hard to miss.

You approach him, a soft smile on your face as you try to push away the heaviness that’s been lingering in your mind. “Hey,” you greet him, your voice calm and steady.

Izuku smiles back, though it’s tinged with nervousness. “Hey… I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

“Of course I did,” you reply, stepping closer. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation, after all.”

Izuku glances around, making sure no one else is nearby before turning his full attention to you. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

You shake your head, dismissing his concern. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. Besides, it gave me a chance to come up here.” You look out to the vast greenery surrounding the school and sigh to yourself before looking at the sun and back to a confused cinnamon roll. 

Izuku stands there, his green eyes filled with curiosity and uncertainty as he waits for you to speak. You take a moment to gather your thoughts, then finally ask, "So, why did you show me your notebook earlier?"

He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well… there was this incident at the mall a while back. A villain attacked, and there was this off-duty hero who took care of him. She looked… really similar to you, and I wanted to know if maybe she was your mom."

You huff, the idea striking you as so absurd that you can’t help but giggle. The giggle turns into a laugh—one that grows louder, almost uncontrollable, until it takes on an almost manic edge. The sound echoes across the empty rooftop, causing Izuku to take a nervous step back. His eyes widen in alarm, and for a moment, he’s at a loss for what to do.

You eventually manage to pull yourself together, wiping away the tears that formed from your fit of laughter. “Sorry,” you say, still chuckling a bit as you catch your breath. “No, there’s no way that could’ve been my mom.”

He looks at you awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. “Oh… is that because she’s back in your home country?”

You shake your head, the smile still lingering on your face. “No, not at all. I’m really sorry for startling you like that. I just found it really funny.” You pause, giving him a sheepish grin. 

You always had a bad habit of laughing at ‘inappropriate’ times. Like when someone gets hurt, that time you got kidnapped, or when you met with your parole officer.

Izuku’s eyes widen at your outburst, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he furrows his brows, clearly trying to make sense of your reaction. “So… if it’s not that, then what?”

You lean in slightly, your gaze challenging. “You’re smarter than this, Izuku. Come on, try again.”

He studies you more intently, his eyes scanning your features as if trying to piece together a puzzle. Then, out of nowhere, he grabs a pencil from his pocket and throws it at you. Instinctively, you flick your finger, sending a small blast of energy that deflects the pencil mid-air. It clatters to the ground, and Izuku’s eyes widen in recognition as he sees the familiar light up close.

“Wait… were you the girl from the mall?” he asks, his voice filled with shock. “I’m so sorry for thinking you were older!”

You roll your eyes, stepping closer to him as he continues his rambling. His freckled cheeks flush as you reach out and cup them with your hands, gently pinching and squeezing them like he’s made out of rubber. The unexpected gesture causes him to freak out, his face growing even redder as he tries to process what’s happening. 

“No, silly,” you say, your tone playful but firm. “Come on now, I’m not usually this open. One last try. I’ll even give you a hint.” You hold your hands up in the shape of a heart over your chest like your hero suit. 

Izuku’s mind races, his cheeks still warm from your touch. He stares at you, searching for the answer, when suddenly it clicks. “You… you weren’t just the hero, were you? You’re Chargebomb !? ”

You smile, finally seeing the realization dawn on him. “Ding! Ding! Ding! There you go! I knew you’d figure it out.” You take your hands from his face and place them back on your hips. 

Izuku looks at you with wide, curious eyes as the weight of your confession hangs in the air. You take a deep breath, realizing the gravity of what you’re about to reveal, and ask him, “Izuku, how much do you value honesty?”

He blinks at the question, a bit surprised. “I value it a lot. It’s important to be honest, especially with people you trust.” He’s so mature about it, how earnest he looks at you with those large green eyes. So clear you can see the reflection of his hands in them. 

You sigh, still managing a small smile as you reach into your Juicy Couture purse, pulling out a large black cloak and a matching jumpsuit. Izuku’s eyes widen in recognition as he sees them. 

You hold them out to him, and he takes them gingerly, running his fingers over the fabric. He looks up at you, shocked, the realization dawning on him as he recognizes the cloak and suit from the Chargebomb figure that sits on his desk. But then, caution fills his eyes, and he asks one simple question: 

“Why?”

You pause, biting your tongue so hard that you taste the metallic tang of blood. Every second you don’t answer, his alarm grows, the tension between you both thickening. Finally, you reach out and take his metallic hand in both of yours, feeling the cool metal against your warm skin.

“I’m friends with your teacher, Midnight,” you begin, your voice steady but soft. “She requested that I take over her classes for a while. I wanted to get to know you all before stepping into that role because… well, I've never taught before and I sometimes suck at large social settings.”

Izuku nods gently, his expression a mixture of understanding and curiosity. He looks down at the mask in his hands, then back up at your face. “What?” you ask, noticing his contemplative gaze.

“How old are you?” he finally asks, his voice tentative.

“Twenty-six,” you reply honestly.

“Why do you look so young?” he asks, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“I take care of myself,” you answer with a smirk. “And next time we go outside, put some sunscreen on.”

Izuku nods, processing the information. “Are you really Chargebomb?”

Instead of answering verbally, you raise your free hand, jingling the bracelets on your wrist as you do. A burst of colorful energy releases from your palm, shooting into the open sky. Down below, you hear the faint sounds of awe from the students on the ground who catch sight of the display. It looks like a fireworks display was just set off that could make 'Merica proud. You pull your hand away and watch as the sky fades to its normal blueness and greet the sun once more. Turning away from the star in the sky, you find yourself meeting squishy broccoli once more. 

“Okay,” he says, still wide-eyed but more accepting now.

“Anything else?” you ask, sensing there’s more he wants to know.

“Why do you wear all black?” he inquires, his tone genuinely curious.

“I like my privacy,” you reply simply, not giving too much away.

“Do you have any family in Japan?” he asks, his voice a bit softer now, as if treading carefully.

“Only Nemuri, Rumi, and Taishiro,” you say, your tone light but genuine. He nods heavily at this, absorbing the information.

“Does Aizawa know?” he asks, his voice a bit more serious now.

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘P’ and flashing him a smile. The casualness of your response seems to catch him off guard, but he smiles back, a little more relaxed now that the initial shock has worn off.

Izuku looks at you with a new kind of respect in his eyes, mixed with the awe that only someone who’s learned something profound about someone they admire can feel. The rooftop feels quieter now, the breeze carrying away the tension that had built up between you.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says quietly, his voice filled with sincerity.

“Thank you for understanding,” you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

As you both stand there, the last rays of the setting sun casting a warm glow over the rooftop, you feel a sense of peace. You’ve shared something deeply personal, something that could change how he sees you, but you know you’ve made the right choice.

“I should probably get going,” Izuku says after a moment, glancing towards the stairs.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agree, taking one last look at the sky before turning to follow him. “But hey, remember what I said about sunscreen.”

He chuckles, a sound that makes you smile, and with that, he heads down the stairs, leaving you to stand alone on the rooftop, the breeze tugging at your hair.

As you watch him go, you feel a sense of accomplishment. You’ve made a connection, one that you hope will grow stronger in time. With a final glance at the setting sun, you turn and make your way down the stairs, ready to face whatever comes next.

Running to the lockers, you spot Denki and Mina standing outside the entrance, their gazes fixed on the sky. They’re animatedly discussing something when you accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh, sorry!” you say, steadying yourself as you look up to see Kirishima grinning down at you.

“No worries,” he says, his hand gently supporting your shoulder. He waves the others over, and Mina and Denki quickly join you, curiosity evident in their expressions.

“We just saw some crazy fireworks in the sky,” Kirishima says, excitement in his voice. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” His eyes sparkle with mischief, though his tone is light.

“Hope Aizawa didn’t lay into you too much.”

You smile, feeling a bit of warmth from their concern. “No, nothing too bad,” you reply, brushing off the encounter. “Aizawa’s just… well, you know how he is.”

By now, Izuku is already standing with Todoroki and Bakugou, who seem to be in the middle of a conversation. Mina and Denki make their way over to them, joined by the other girls and a few of the guys. They’re all chatting animatedly, but as they see you approach, they turn their attention to you.

“So, do you have any plans for the evening?” Mina asks, her eyes bright with interest. “We were thinking of maybe doing something fun before heading back.”

Denki nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, we could all hang out! Maybe grab something to eat or just chill somewhere.”

You feel the warmth of their camaraderie wrapping around you, and for a moment, the weight of everything you’ve been through today lifts slightly. You look at the eager faces around you, considering the offer.

Just as you're about to respond to the group’s suggestion, you hear a familiar voice call out your name. Turning around, you spot Rumi and Taishiro waving at you from a short distance away. You shrug sheepishly, giving the group a quick, apologetic smile.

"Give me one second," you tell them before jogging over to meet the two heroes.

"Hey, you coming home?" Rumi asks, a smirk playing on her lips. Taishiro stands beside her, his usual easygoing grin in place.

"Yeah, we’ve got some news to talk about," Taishiro adds, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness underneath.

You pause, a little torn. “Can it wait about two hours? I was planning to hang with the kiddos for a bit.”

Rumi raises an eyebrow, and Taishiro exchanges a look with her before smiling. “Sure, but you gotta be home in two hours, and be careful,” he agrees, his tone almost fatherly.

You smile in relief. “Thanks, I’ll meet you guys back in the teacher lounge. I won’t leave the kids until they’re all back at the dorms safely.”

Taishiro's smile deepens, a touch of pride evident. “I really like seeing you take stride with these kids. I can tell it’s making a difference. Kirishima looks more rested—thank you for that.” 

You glance over at Kirishima, who’s laughing with Denki and Mina, his usual energy a bit more vibrant than earlier. "Just doing what I can," you reply, feeling a sense of fulfillment.

Rumi, meanwhile, is scanning the appearance of some of the other students, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in their conditions. It’s then that you notice Mic and Aizawa walking out of the front doors of the school. Aizawa’s gaze lands on you, and after a moment, he turns to Rumi, asking her for a word.

Kirishima, noticing Taishiro, starts walking over with you. As the students recognize the large, familiar hero, they greet him with excitement, asking how he’s doing. Some of them, particularly Mina and Denki, reach out for hugs or candy, which Taishiro gladly offers, laughing at what he calls the "sugar shake down."

You watch the scene with a soft smile, but your attention is drawn to Rumi and Aizawa. They’re talking quietly, and though you can’t hear everything, you catch bits and pieces of their conversation. Aizawa looks a little more tense than usual, his brows furrowed as Rumi responds with a mix of concern and frustration.

Just then, you catch Mic's gaze. He’s standing off to the side, watching you with a curious expression. When you meet his eyes, you press a finger to your lips, signaling for silence. He chuckles quietly through his nose, a playful grin spreading across his face as he gives you a subtle nod.

Rumi’s conversation with Aizawa seems to wrap up, and she glances back at you, her expression softening slightly. You can tell something serious was discussed, but for now, it’s pushed aside as she makes her way back over to you and Taishiro.

"Alright, don’t keep us waiting too long," Rumi says, her tone a bit lighter now. "And make sure these kids get back safely."

You nod, giving her a reassuring smile before turning back to the group, who are now eagerly waiting for you to join them. 

You turn back to your ‘Classmates’ , but something catches your eye. The class, which was casually chatting moments ago, is now surrounded by a crowd of excited freshmen.

Bakugou, in particular, is at the center of the chaos. A gaggle of new freshman girls has cornered him, their eyes wide with admiration and awe. They’re practically vibrating with excitement as they bombard him with questions and compliments. Bakugou’s face is twisted in a mix of annoyance and sheer panic as he waves his arms in a futile attempt to ward them off.

“Get the hell away from me!” he barks, his voice rough with irritation. The girls, however, don’t seem to be deterred, their admiration only growing in intensity.

Midoriya and Kirishima, noticing Bakugou’s distress, rush over to help. Midoriya is trying to talk to the girls gently, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Um, maybe you should give Kacchan some space...?” he suggests, his voice kind but a bit nervous.

Kirishima, meanwhile, is using his own body to create a barrier between Bakugou and the girls. “Hey, come on now, let’s give him some room!” he says with a grin, trying to diffuse the situation with his usual friendly energy.

Despite their efforts, the girls are relentless, their attention solely focused on the explosive blonde. Bakugou’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head as he snaps at them, “I said, FUCK OFF!”

Not far away, Todoroki is in a similar predicament, though his reaction is much more subdued. He’s surrounded by another group of freshmen, his face calm but his eyes betraying a sense of quiet desperation. The girls are fawning over him, their voices a flurry of compliments about his "coolness" and "handsome" appearance.

Todoroki’s usual stoic demeanor is crumbling slightly, his gaze darting around as if searching for an escape. However, unlike Bakugou, he’s too polite to yell at the girls, so he simply stands there, frozen in place.

Sero and Tokoyami, noticing Todoroki’s silent plea for help, exchange a glance before moving in. Sero tries to use his tape to gently guide the girls away, while Tokoyami, with his deep, calm voice, politely asks them to step back. “Please, allow him some space,” Tokoyami says, his tone firm yet respectful.

But even as they try to help, Iida steps in, attempting to take control of the situation. His hand chopping through the air in his usual authoritative manner, he declares, “Young ladies, this behavior is unbecoming! I must insist that you cease this at once!”

Unfortunately for Iida, his stern lecture backfires. The moment the girls turn their attention to him, they begin to oogle him, their eyes wide with fascination. Iida’s face turns ashen as they start bombarding him with questions about his hero costume and how he manages to be so "cool and disciplined."

For a moment, Iida looks utterly terrified, like a deer caught in headlights. His usually confident stance falters, and he stumbles over his words, completely flustered by the sudden attention. “Uh, w-well, you see, it’s important to maintain d-discipline—” he stammers, his glasses slipping down his nose as he tries to back away.

Ochako and Tsuyu quickly come to his rescue, slipping through the crowd and positioning themselves between Iida and the freshmen. “Okay, girls, let’s not,” Ochako says with a bright smile, while Tsuyu nods, adding, “It’s not fair to overwhelm him like this.”

The moment of relative calm after the freshmen invasion is abruptly interrupted when Jirou sighs in relief, crossing her arms. "Well, at least no one was moving in on the girls," she comments, clearly glad that the situation hadn’t spiraled completely out of control.

But just as she finishes speaking, a voice rings out from the crowd. "Hey, ponytail!" A random guy calls out, waving enthusiastically at Momo.

Jirou’s eyes widen, and she groans in frustration, muttering under her breath, "I jinxed it." Without missing a beat, she spins around, her expression hardening as she steps forward to defend Momo, who is visibly uncomfortable with the sudden attention. The remaining girls huddle closer together, with Jirou now standing in front of them, ready to fend off any unwanted advances. 

As the chaos reignites, the class instinctively forms a protective circle, each student looking out for one another. Kirishima, Bakugou, and Sero are doing their best to keep the overly excited freshmen at bay, while Todoroki, though still a bit dazed, positions himself near the edge of the group, using his presence as a deterrent.

In the midst of the turmoil, Mineta, who had been trying to navigate through the crowd unnoticed, is almost trampled by the stampede of students. Thankfully, Shinso and Shoji swoop in just in time, lifting him out of harm’s way. Shinso’s expression is neutral, but there’s a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, while Shoji’s multiple arms provide the much-needed support to get Mineta back on his feet.

Ojiro, on the other hand, is busy holding up Toru, who, despite being invisible, is shocked to receive any attention at all. She giggles nervously, still not quite used to the idea of people noticing her despite her quirk. "I guess they really noticed me, huh?" she muses, her voice tinged with surprise.

Nearby, Aoyama has found his way over to you, his usual flamboyance slightly subdued by the commotion. He backs up to your side, offering a polite smile. "Pardonne Moi, but do you think you could do something to help calm things down?" he asks, his voice calm but hopeful.

You nod, your mind already working on a solution. Concentrating, you begin to release small, subtle bursts of your energy into the crowd. The effect is almost immediate. The once rowdy students start to slow down, their frantic movements becoming more languid. Taishiro, noticing what you’re doing, joins in, though his method is a bit more... traditional. He starts tossing the remaining candy from his pockets into the air, hoping to distract the students.

Unfortunately, the candy doesn’t have the desired effect—these kids are more interested in the heroes than in sweets. Taishiro scratches his head, chuckling to himself. "Guess kids these days don’t want no candy, huh?" he mutters.

Your energy, however, works wonders. The students around you begin to calm down, their excitement fading into a more passive, trance-like state. You seize the opportunity, speaking softly but firmly, “It’s time for all of the Freshmen to head back to their dorms.”

The idea settles into their minds, and soon, the crowd starts to disperse, moving almost like a herd of sheep, following your subtle guidance.

The class, still somewhat bewildered by the sudden change in atmosphere, exchanges confused glances before shrugging it off. Mina is the first to recover, spotting you and grabbing your arm with a grin. "Come on! We’re heading to a little bowling alley we hang out at sometimes!"

Todoroki, who has been quietly observing the situation, nods in agreement. "I’ll use my dad’s credit card to cover it," he mentions casually, earning a few chuckles from the group.

As you all start walking together, Izuku catches your eye. There’s a knowing smile on his face as he mouths a quick, heartfelt, "thank you." You return the smile, feeling a sense of warmth as the group begins to relax, the earlier tension melting away.

With Mina leading the way, the class chatters excitedly about the upcoming bowling match, their earlier encounters with the freshmen already fading into the background. As you walk alongside them, you can’t help but chuckle at the scene.

Bakugou is still grumbling under his breath, trying to shake off the lingering attention. Midoriya looks relieved that the situation didn’t escalate further, while Kirishima is still trying to keep things light, patting Bakugou on the back with a grin.

Todoroki, now free from the crowd, stands off to the side, quietly adjusting his tie, his expression returning to its usual calm. Sero and Tokoyami share a relieved glance, clearly glad they managed to help.

And Iida, poor Iida, is wiping sweat from his brow as Ochako and Tsuyu offer him reassuring smiles. “Thanks, you two,” he mutters, still looking a bit pale.

All around, the students are stretching and shaking off the remnants of the impromptu ambush, their movements a mix of relief and exhaustion. The air is filled with the sound of laughter and chatter as they regroup, the chaos of the moment slowly dissipating.

The sky above is tinged with the warm hues of late afternoon, the air crisp and filled with the promise of a relaxed evening. As you walk alongside the students, the excitement in the group is palpable, everyone chatting animatedly about the plans for the evening. It’s refreshing, seeing them so carefree after school.

The bowling alley comes into view, and you find yourself pleasantly surprised by how inviting it looks. The exterior has a charming, retro vibe with neon signs and a large marquee that flashes "Strike Zone & More!" The windows reveal a cozy interior bathed in warm light, and you can already hear the faint sounds of pins crashing and the hum of arcade machines.

As you all step inside, the first thing you notice is the decor. The carpet is surprisingly clean, not sticky as you’d half-expected, with a vibrant pattern of swirling colors that almost makes it feel like walking through a kaleidoscope. The walls are adorned with vintage posters of past bowling tournaments and neon-lit signs pointing to different sections: an off-room for pool, a row of older arcade games, a picture booth, and party rooms. 

There’s even a karaoke bar tucked into the corner, the soft glow from its lights spilling out into the main area. The space feels larger than you anticipated, likely due to the joint roller rink next door, which gives everything a more spacious, airy feel.

The bowling alley itself is relatively empty, save for three employees who immediately catch your eye. One of them, a guy with elf-like ears and a brooding expression, has his face resting on the register, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. 

His dark hair, styled in a way that oddly reminds you of Sasuke Uchiha, falls into his eyes. Another employee, with a head of spiky blonde hair and small, bright blue eyes, is energetically greeting everyone who walks in. His enthusiasm is infectious, but you notice Izuku visibly tensing up as he approaches. 

Lastly, there’s a bubbly girl with space buns and the rest of her hair curling around her shoulders in soft purple waves. She’s the most calm and welcoming of the trio, her smile bright and genuine as she waves to the group.

“HEY GUYS!”

“Huh?”

There’s an instant buzz among the class as Mina, always quick with the information, explains to you who they are.

“That’s Tamaki Amajiki,” she points to the guy at the register, who seems content to stay slumped over the counter, “and over there is Mirio Togata. He’s the one with the blond hair.” Mina then gestures to the bubbly girl. “And that’s Nejire Hado. They were third-year students, and they’re amazing heroes now!” She smiles as she jingles your bracelets, “They decided to be part time mentors at UA, so we still see them in school sometimes.”

As the students begin to flock toward the trio, Kirishima’s expression turns concerned. He walks up to Tamaki, gently encouraging him to lift his face from the counter. “Hey, man, you alright? It’s not great to keep your face down like that.” 

Tamaki slowly lifts his head, his expression still gloomy, but he gives Kirishima a nod of acknowledgment. “I’m okay… just… tired,” he mutters, trying to muster a small smile. 

‘DAMN, his energy is so fucking heavy!’

Iida and Bakugou, surprisingly united in their stance, both shake their heads in disapproval. “It’s bad business practice,” Iida says, adjusting his glasses.

Bakugou grunts in agreement, crossing his arms. “Can’t have people thinking you’re shit on the job, idiot.”

Mirio, meanwhile, is completely unfazed by the exchange, his grin as wide as ever. “Welcome, welcome! Let’s get you all set up with some shoes!” He’s already grabbing pairs left and right, guessing sizes with impressive accuracy. His aura was a spicy mix of calm and underlying nerves. 

Nejire, equally welcoming, has taken on the task of collecting food orders from the students, chatting with them as if they were old friends. Her presence is calming, and you can see the tension easing from Izuku’s shoulders as she reassures him with a friendly pat on the back. Her energy levels were consistent with her aura on high alert for some reason, weird. 

As you observe all this, you realize just how dry your throat is after using your quirk so much throughout the day. You consider getting some food but decide against it, remembering your plans for dinner with Rumi and Taishiro.

Instead, you opt for a couple of water bottles from a nearby vending machine. Mina lets you go for the moment and you slam your coins into the slot to get that good kwenchy liquid.

‘Hehehe Cactus juice.’

Grabbing the bottles, you waste no time downing the first one in record time, the cool liquid refreshing your parched throat. You quickly follow it up with the second bottle, finishing it just as fast. A few of the students nearby notice and exchange concerned glances, but you just wave them off with a smile, feeling much better now that you’re hydrated.

Mina, ever the social butterfly, finds you again and links her arm with yours. “Come on, let’s get our lane! I can’t wait to see you bowl!” She’s practically bouncing with excitement as she pulls you along toward the lane that’s been set aside for your group.

The evening at the bowling alley was turning into a fierce competition, much to the amusement of everyone involved. It quickly became apparent that you were no novice when it came to bowling.

Your form was perfect, and each roll of the ball seemed to effortlessly find its way to a strike. The others had started to notice too, especially Bakugou, whose competitive streak had kicked into overdrive. The game had come down to just the two of you duking it out for the number one spot, and the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Mineta, on the other hand, had not fared well. He was dead last, pouting in the corner as he watched the scoreboard with dismay. His frustrations were compounded when Iida, ever the picture of grace and discipline, had slipped on the floor during his turn, much to the shock of everyone. He had tried to recover with dignity, but the red flush on his cheeks was hard to miss.

Denki, in typical fashion, had managed to break one of the lanes, though how he did it remained a mystery. Jirou had promptly put him in "time out," her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently as she kept an eye on him. Denki slouched in his chair, looking thoroughly chastised but also a little amused at his own misfortune.

Kirishima had his own mishap when he accidentally cracked his bowling ball in half, much to his dismay. "I just put a little too much strength into it," he’d said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head as the others chuckled.

Todoroki, who had been more of an observer than a participant, needed encouragement from Izuku to even take a turn. It turned out that he just wanted to hang out with everyone and wasn’t too interested in bowling, but he eventually joined in, albeit with a quiet, reluctant smile.

Izuku, despite his own initial hesitation, wasn’t doing too badly. He had a steady game going, his concentration evident in the way he carefully lined up each shot. Sero, however, was giving everyone a run for their money, firmly holding onto third place. Each time he hit a strike, he would break out into a little salsa dance, much to the chagrin of Bakugou, who glared daggers at him every time.

The rest of the students were scattered around, either munching on snacks or trying their luck at the arcade games. Mina and Ochako were busy playing an old-school pinball machine, while Tsuyu and Momo were sharing a plate of nachos, chatting quietly between bites. Shoji and Shinso were deep in conversation near the pool tables, and Ojiro was helping Toru with one of the claw machines, though it was a bit challenging to tell with her being invisible.

As the final frame approached, it was neck-and-neck between you and Bakugou. The pressure was on, but you remained cool and focused. With one last swing of your arm, you sent the ball rolling down the lane, watching with satisfaction as it struck dead center, sending the pins flying. Another strike. You flashed Bakugou a triumphant grin before stepping aside to let him take his turn.

“Beat that,” you teased as you headed toward the restroom, giving Bakugou a little wave.

As you entered the bathroom, the atmosphere shifted. It was quieter, the sounds of the bowling alley muffled by the thick walls. The energy was dark and heavy with tints of You were just about to step into a stall when you heard a faint sniffling sound. You paused, your hand hovering over the door handle.

"Hello? Is someone there?" you called out gently, trying not to startle whoever it was.

There was no response at first, just the soft sound of someone trying to stifle their tears. You waited for a moment before deciding to close the door behind you. Flicking the lights on and off a couple of times, you hoped it might encourage the person to respond.

Finally, you heard a small, familiar voice coming from one of the stalls. "It's me… Toru."

Your heart sank a little as you realized it was Toru, usually so cheerful and upbeat. You approached the stall, your voice soft and concerned.

"Toru, what's going on? Are you okay?"

There was a pause before she spoke again, her voice trembling.

"I'm sorry… I didn’t mean to cry. I just… I feel so invisible sometimes!”

You could hear her sobbing pick up and your heart clenched at the sound of her voice. Toru, who seemed so bubbly and cheerful, sounded so vulnerable now. You approached the stall where she was hiding, your voice gentle and full of concern. "Toru, what’s wrong? What’s got you so upset?"

There was a pause, and for a moment you thought she might not answer. But then, through her sniffles, she spoke. "I just… I feel like people forget about me so easily. Just because I’m invisible, it’s like… it’s like I don’t matter as much, you know? And after everything that happened during the war, I keep thinking… what if I got hurt? What if I died? No one would even find me. I could just… disappear."

Her voice cracked, and you could hear the depth of her fear and pain. It was something she’d probably been carrying for a long time, something that had festered and grown until it overwhelmed her. You could understand why she’d feel that way—Toru’s quirk made her physically invisible, but it was clear that the emotional toll of feeling unseen was even more painful.

You knew you needed to do something to comfort her. Reaching into the stall next to hers, you grabbed a few sheets of toilet paper and slid them under the door to her stall. Then, you squatted down outside her door, leaning your back against it to give her some privacy, while still making it clear that you were there for her.

“Toru,” you began, your voice calm and reassuring, “I want you to know that what you’re feeling is completely valid. It’s okay to be scared and to have these thoughts. But you’re not alone, and you don’t have to carry this by yourself.” 

You heard her sniffling again, but she didn’t speak. So, you continued, hoping your words could reach her.

“Just because you’re invisible doesn’t mean you’re forgotten or unimportant. You’re real, Toru. You’re here, and you matter to all of us. You’ve got a place in this class, in this world, that no one else can fill. And if something ever happened to you, we’d notice. We’d miss you. We wouldn’t stop searching for you. You’re part of our team, our family. We care about you so much.”

You could hear her breathing, steady but still shaky. She was listening, absorbing your words, and that encouraged you to keep going.

“I know it’s scary to think about what could have happened during the war, but you’re here now. You made it through, and that’s because you’re strong, Toru. You’ve got so much to offer, and we’d be hard-pressed to find someone in class who doesn’t think highly of you. And you’re more than just your quirk. You’re funny, you’re kind, and you’ve got this incredible spirit that lights up the room—even if we can’t see you, we can feel it.” You fussed with the smudged marker on your converse and decided to scrub them and start over after dinner. 

There was a small, hesitant chuckle from the other side of the door, and it brought a soft smile to your face. You decided to keep pushing, to lighten the mood a little more. 

“And besides,” you added with a teasing tone, “I’m pretty sure Ojiro would be the first one to notice if you weren’t around. Have you seen how he looks at you? He’s always got your back. Literally.”

Toru let out a small, watery laugh, the sound a mix of relief and lingering emotion. “You think so?” she asked, her voice still a little shaky, but there was a note of hope in it.

“I know so,” you replied confidently. “And you know what? You should give yourself more credit too. You’re more visible than you think, Toru. You’re the real deal, and you’re important to all of us.” Stop stood up from the floor and dusted your hands off. 

There was a moment of silence, and then you heard the soft sound of the stall door unlocking. Toru stepped out, her form still invisible, but you could feel her weight as she hesitated before falling into your arms. You wrapped her in a comforting hug, holding her close as she finally let out all the emotions she’d been bottling up.

As you held her, you spoke softly. “See? You’re talking to me, I can feel your weight in my arms, and I know you’re here. You’re very much real, Toru. And we’re going to make sure you never forget that.”

She sniffled against your shoulder, her arms tightening around you as she took in your words. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice full of gratitude and relief. “I needed this.”

“Anytime,” you murmured back, rubbing her back soothingly. “Now, how about we splash some water on your face, and then we can head back out there? The others are probably wondering where we are.”

Toru nodded against your shoulder, and after a moment, she pulled back. Though you couldn’t see her face, you could feel the shift in her energy—she felt lighter, more at ease.

“Okay,” she said softly, heading over to the sink to wash her face. You could hear the water running and the faint sound of her taking deep breaths, grounding herself again.

As you waited for her to finish, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. It wasn’t easy being a teacher, but moments like these made it all worth it. Knowing that you could be there for your students, that you could help them through their darkest moments, made every challenge worthwhile.

When Toru was ready, the two of you left the bathroom together. As you walked back toward the bowling lanes, side by side, you hoped that she’d come out of this more confident in who she was. And you’d be there to support her every step of the way in case she needed it. 

The moment you walked out of the bathroom holding hands with Toru, a sudden realization hit you like a ton of bricks: you had completely forgotten to pee. With an awkward, apologetic smile, you quickly excused yourself and made a mad dash back to the restroom, leaving Toru to take your place in the bowling game.

When you emerged, feeling much more relieved, you were greeted by the sight of your students and some of the girls from Class 1-A gathered around the bowling lane, cheering enthusiastically. Toru was at the center of it all, standing confidently as she prepared to bowl.

With a smooth and graceful motion, she sent the ball down the lane, and you watched in amazement as it rolled straight into the pins, knocking them all down in one perfect strike. The cheers erupted even louder, and you couldn’t help but grin as you saw Ojiro rush over, lift her up, and twirl her around in celebration.

Toru’s presence was palpable in the room, despite her invisibility. You could practically feel her eyes on you as she beamed with pride, and you waved back at her, your heart swelling with joy at seeing her so happy and confident. It was a nice contrast to the tearful moment you’d just shared in the bathroom, and it made you realize just how strong she truly was.

As you glanced around the room, your eyes caught Izuku’s. He gave you a knowing smile, his expression full of warmth and understanding. You returned the smile and shrugged, as if to say, "Hey, Toru did all the work." It was a moment of unspoken camaraderie between you two, a shared pride in the progress your students were making.

Meanwhile, Bakugou was breathing deeply, his expression a mix of frustration and determination. Despite his best efforts, Toru had managed to clinch the victory from him, and you could see Kirishima patting him on the back, congratulating him for taking second place. Sero and Denki, on the other hand, were dancing around like they’d just won the lottery, doing their little salsa moves in celebration.

The entire scene was so full of life and energy that you couldn’t help but laugh. The Big Three—Mirio, Tamaki, and Nejire—were cheering along with the students, their enthusiasm infectious. Mirio’s booming voice echoed through the bowling alley as he clapped his hands together, while Nejire bounced on her toes, her excitement bubbling over.

Finally, Mirio called out, "Alright, everyone! Finish up your games because we’re closing in ten minutes!"

There was a collective groan from the students, but it was good-natured. They’d had their fun, and now it was time to wrap things up. You joined the group as they began to put away the bowling shoes and gather their belongings, the atmosphere filled with the warmth of shared experiences and laughter.

Toru, still beaming from her victory, gave you a quick hug as she passed by, and you returned it with a squeeze. "You did amazing, Toru," you whispered to her, and she giggled, her voice filled with happiness.

"Thanks! I couldn’t have done it without you," she replied, her invisible hand giving yours a quick squeeze before she joined the others.

As you all started gathering your things to leave, Mina suddenly grabbed your hand, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Wait, we have to take some pictures to commemorate the evening!" she exclaimed, pulling you toward the photo booth in the corner of the bowling alley.

Laughing, you let her drag you over, and the two of you squeezed into the small booth. The screen blinked to life, and you both threw up peace signs, making finger hearts and goofy faces as the camera clicked away. The energy between you and Mina was infectious, and soon, more of the girls joined in, piling into the booth with giggles and smiles.

You made sure to sit Toru in the middle, wrapping an arm around her invisible shoulders as Mina leaned in from the other side. On cue, you and Mina both kissed her cheeks just as the camera snapped another shot. Toru’s delighted laughter filled the booth, and you could feel the positive energy radiating from her, so much brighter than it had been earlier.

Before you knew it, Jirou and Momo were climbing in over you both, their laughter filling the tiny space. The booth became a chaotic jumble of limbs and laughter as you all tried to fit in, just as Denki, never one to miss out on the fun, threw himself into the booth with a dramatic flair, making everyone laugh even harder.

Realizing that everyone wanted to get in on the action, you kept feeding the machine more money, letting it take multiple photos of the entire class. Each new set of pictures captured a different group of students—everyone getting their turn to make silly faces and pose with their friends.

When it was all over, you paid for the copies, handing them out to each student as they gathered around. Mina protested, insisting she could pay her share, but before she could argue further, Todoroki and Momo both held up their cash, ready to contribute as well.

You just shrugged gently, waving them off with a smile. "Don’t worry about it. This one’s on me."

The mood was even more upbeat than before as everyone clutched their photo strips, grinning from ear to ear. The positive energy in the air was almost tangible, swirling around you like a comforting blanket. It was moments like this that reminded you of why you cared so much for these kids—why you would do anything to see them smile.

As the last of the photos were distributed, you noticed the Big Three near the entrance, their jackets on and ready to leave. You glanced at the clock—6 p.m. already. Time had flown by so quickly. Concerned, you called out to them, "Do you guys have a ride home?" 

Your adult is showing!!~

Mirio grinned, throwing an arm around Tamaki’s shoulders. "Yep! It’s Tamaki’s turn to drive us home tonight." Tamaki, still looking a bit shy but determined, nodded. "Yeah, I’ve got it."

They offered to walk you all to the dorms, but you gently declined, knowing it was better for everyone to head out in different directions. As you and your friends filed out of the bowling alley, Mina and Toru took hold of your hands, their fingers warm and comforting in yours.

As the group slowly made their way out of the doors, the night air hit you, cool and refreshing after the excitement inside. You walked alongside your students, feeling a deep sense of contentment. They had all grown so much, and moments like this reminded you just how much you cared for them—and how much they cared for each other.

With the Big Three waving goodbye as they closed up the bowling alley, you smiled at all the memories you’d made tonight.

You looked up, the sky painted with hues of pink and orange as the sun began to set. The walk back to the dorms was filled with chatter and laughter, everyone still riding the high from the evening’s fun.

As you walked, you felt Toru’s hand squeeze yours a little tighter. You glanced over and saw her looking at you, her eyes—though invisible—clearly filled with gratitude and happiness. You smiled back at her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze in return.

You continued walking with Mina and Toru at your sides, and couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. 

Today was a good day.

The walk back to the dorms was almost quiet, the group more subdued after the excitement of the evening. Laughter had faded into a comfortable silence, with only the occasional murmur of conversation breaking the stillness. As you neared the entrance to the dorms, you felt the familiar sense of responsibility settle over you. It was time to say goodbye.

You stopped at the gates, turning to face the class. "Alright, guys, this is where we part ways."

A few of the students looked confused, and Momo was the first to ask, "You're not staying with us?"

You shook your head with a small smile. "Nah, I’ve got to take the subway home."

Immediately, concern washed over their faces. Momo's eyes narrowed in thought, and she placed a hand on her chin. "I could make you a taser. It would only take a few minutes."

Kirishima nodded in agreement. "Or I could walk you to the subway at least. Just to make sure you're safe, y’know? It’s no trouble at all."

You couldn’t help but smile at their protectiveness. "I appreciate it, really, but I'll be fine." Gently, you reached out with your quirk, sensing the restless energy radiating off them. Though they were trying to be brave, you could feel the lingering excitement and concern making it hard for them to wind down.

Tapping into your power, you sent a calming pulse through the air. Their energy spiked briefly as if awakened by a fresh burst of energy, and then, almost instantly, it began to ebb away. You could feel it working, see it in the way their shoulders relaxed, how their eyelids grew heavier.

Denki yawned, eyes fluttering as he blinked up at you. "Man, I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly so tired," he muttered, swaying on his feet.

Shinsou, standing next to him, wasn’t faring much better. His head bobbed slightly as he fought to stay awake. Before anyone could even react, both of them slumped onto the sofa in the common room, fast asleep before they could even make it to their beds.

Sero, ever the laid-back type, lazily stretched out on two chairs, somehow finding a comfortable position despite the awkward setup. "I’m just gonna... rest here for a minute," he mumbled, eyes closing as he dozed off.

You chuckled softly, watching as the others began to shuffle off toward their rooms. Mina waved sleepily, her steps dragging as she wished you goodnight. Even Bakugou, though still grumbling, couldn’t hide his exhaustion. He scowled, muttering something about it being past 8:30 as he made his way upstairs.

Kirishima shot you one last concerned glance, his fatigue evident in the way he rubbed at his eyes. "You sure you're okay? I could walk you—"

You waved him off with a gentle smile. "I’m sure. You all need your rest. I’ll be fine, I promise."

Reluctantly, he nodded, finally heading inside with the others. As the dorm doors closed behind them, you took a deep breath, feeling the night settle in around you. The city skyline glowed in the distance, and the air was crisp and cool against your skin.

You sighed, both tired and content as you began walking toward the doors. The evening had been more eventful than you anticipated, but seeing the kids so happy—and knowing you had helped ease their restlessness—made it all worth it.

With each step, the echoes of the night’s laughter and joy accompanied you, and though you walked alone now, the warmth of their care stayed with you long after.

As you wave one last time to the last sleepy students disappearing into the dorms, you turn to leave—only to almost trip over Aoyama, who had somehow sprawled out on the ground near the door.

"Oops, sorry!" you whisper, stepping over him carefully as he lets out a dramatic sigh, his sparkling face shining even in the dim light.

With a soft chuckle, you manage to navigate your way past the dorms, out of the back security gate, and into the cool night air. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you dial Rumi, ready to drop your location.

She answers immediately, her voice loud and enthusiastic. "Yo! Where you at? Me and Taishi are chilling in the teacher's lounge. Come up when you're done babysitting!"

A small smile tugs at your lips as you nod, even though she can’t see you. "On my way now. Be there soon."

Hanging up, you start walking through the quiet grounds, eventually slipping into the main building. But as you make your way deeper into the hallways, you can’t help but feel the creeping eeriness of the place. The school at night feels vastly different than it does during the day. The corridors seem to stretch on forever, with each corner you turn feeling like another maze to solve. Every creak and soft shuffle echoes unnaturally, the emptiness making it all the more unsettling.

Your pace quickens slightly as you notice the pools of light spilling in through random windows, leaving sharp patches of brightness on the floor. You instinctively avoid them, staying close to the walls and shadows, a habit from your quirk training that kicks in without thinking.

A cold shiver runs down your spine as the flickering fluorescent lights above buzz louder, the hum blending with the deep silence around you. You shake your head, smiling to yourself. ‘ It’s just a school,’ you remind yourself. 

‘No big deal.’

Deciding to shake off the discomfort, you square your shoulders, lifting your chin and walking straight through the dim patches of darkness. You could feel your pulse steadying as you moved forward confidently, determined not to let a few creepy hallways get to you.

It takes you a good fifteen minutes to navigate the winding halls before you finally arrive at the teacher's lounge. The door is slightly ajar, and as you approach, you can hear a deep, mournful wail coming from inside.

‘What on earth...?’

With a sigh of relief, you push open the door, stepping into the warm, comfortable light and inside to a strange scene. Rumi is sitting casually on the edge of a desk, her sharp ruby eyes already locked onto you as she flashes you a quick grin. Beside her, Taishiro is hunched over in an attempt to comfort a large, muscular man with shaggy blond hair—who, to your surprise, is wearing what looks like a muzzle.

The man, now identified by the loud, heart-wrenching sobs he's emitting, is slumped over at his desk. His head is buried in his arms, his body shaking with each cry. Taishiro’s massive hand is patting his back in a gentle, but somewhat awkward rhythm.

Rumi’s grin widens as she waves you over, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you approach. She leans down, her voice a low whisper in your ear, "That's Hound Dog. Fitting, right?" She snickers softly before pulling back.

"He's the school’s guidance counselor," she continues, keeping her voice low as she gestures toward the distressed man. "Poor guy's going through it."

Hound Dog lifts his head briefly, revealing watery, red eyes. “It’s driving me crazy!” he howls, his voice raw with emotion, before burying his face back into his desk.

“He’s been like this for the past hour,” Taishiro says softly, his tone heavy with sympathy as he glances at you and Rumi. “Really cares about the kids.”

Rumi rolls her eyes slightly, but her smile is warm as she leans against the desk. “Yeah, yeah, we get it. But seriously, he’s worried that the students aren’t getting enough help. Wants more people to come in to support ‘em, but he’s stuck with all the red tape. Hiring processes and training and whatnot.” She waves her hand dismissively. Hound Dog lets out another anguished cry.

“I love them! I really do!”

He bangs his fists on the desk, rattling everything on it. “I’ve known some of these students since they were freshmen! I’ve watched them grow!” His voice cracks with the weight of his emotions. “But damn it, I can’t help them if they won’t open up! And they need more help, more attention, more people to make sure they’re getting what they deserve!”

Taishiro, ever the patient one, tries again to soothe him. “You’re doing your best, man. We all see how hard you’re working. And you’re right, they do need more support, but you can’t carry that weight all on your own.”

Hound Dog growls in frustration, slamming his hands down again, the sound resonating through the room. “It’s not enough! I’m just one person! And the process to bring in a team? It’s so slow, so frustrating! The students are the ones suffering for it!”

Rumi squeezes your shoulder lightly, her breath tickling your ear as she murmurs, “He’s not wrong, y’know. The kids have been through hell, and he’s barely keeping it together trying to be there for all of them.”

You nod in understanding, taking in the sheer weight of Hound Dog’s frustrations. His dedication is undeniable, but the system is slow, and the students need more immediate help than it can currently offer. You can see how much this is tearing him apart.

Rumi tilts her head back and sighs, clearly empathizing but also not entirely sure how to help at the moment. "This job isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, huh?" she says quietly, her usual cocky tone tempered with genuine concern. You think back to your own interactions with the students earlier today, their struggles still fresh in your mind. You’ve been around them for only a short time, and you can already sense how deep their trauma runs. What Hound Dog’s dealing with? It must be crushing.

“Hey,” you speak up gently, your voice soft but firm, “You’re right—this is tough, and it’s not fair for you to bear all of this on your own. The students do need more help. But for now, even just you being there for them, even if they don’t always open up right away, it matters. They notice.”

Hound Dog sniffles, his red eyes meeting yours through the muzzle. “But... it’s not enough,” he mutters, his voice thick with emotion.

“No, it’s not,” you admit, kneeling beside his desk to meet his gaze more closely. “But you’re doing what you can, and they know that. And when they’re ready, they’ll come to you. You can’t force them to open up, but you can keep showing them that you’re there. That means something. A lot, actually.”

There’s a brief pause as your words settle in, and Hound Dog nods in agreement, the corners of his eyes crinkling in what you assume is a smile from the support.

“You’re very bright young lady! Have you ever considered becoming a lifestyle guidance counselor?” 

You all burst out laughing as he gives you a firm pat on the shoulder that almost knocks you off balance before Taishi grabs your bag to steady you. In return, Rumi hops down and pats Hound Dog’s back a bit harder, her playful nature returning. “See, you’re doing good, mutt! Keep it up, and we’ll get those reinforcements soon enough.” She winks at you, then adds, “And maybe we can steal this one to help out, too, huh?”

You chuckle softly, not missing the subtle suggestion, though you’re not sure if it’s just Rumi being Rumi or a genuine thought. Either way, the mood in the room feels just a little lighter.

As Hound Dog’s sobs finally began to subside, he sniffled a few times before rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He glanced over at you, seeming to register your presence for the first time, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“Wait… why is there a student here after hours?” he barked, his gruff voice now more composed, though still heavy with lingering emotion. His eyes darted between you and Rumi.

'Shiiiiit.'

Without missing a beat, Rumi tightened her arm around your shoulders, her casual demeanor making the sudden cover-up seem like second nature. “Oh, don’t worry about that. She’s not just any student,” she said, her grin sly but her tone firm. “She’s my mentee. I’ll be taking her home after this.”

Hound Dog, still slightly suspicious but clearly too exhausted to press the matter, blinked and then nodded. “Alright… well, just make sure she gets home safe,” he said with a resigned sigh. His massive hand rubbed his muzzle as he stood up from the desk, towering over all of you. His gaze softened as he looked at you again, his voice much gentler now. “I’ll see if I can speed up the paperwork to get you into the dorms. It’s safer there.”

You nodded back at him, offering a small smile of gratitude. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Taishiro gave you a look, shaking his head in silent amusement as if to say ‘ What are you getting yourself into now?’ You could only shrug back in return. You wanted to play along as long as you could and besides, now you knew a staff member that could help in your plan. 

With that, Hound Dog took a deep breath and trudged toward the door, his large boots thudding against the floor. “Goodnight all,” he muttered, his voice still weary.

“Goodnight, Hound Dog,” Taishiro said warmly, watching him go.

You all stood in silence for a moment, listening to the fading sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall until the door finally clicked shut.

The room suddenly felt quieter, as if the air had become stiller in his absence. You let out a long breath, tension you hadn’t realized you were holding finally releasing from your chest. 

The teacher’s lounge seemed… different now. The once cozy warmth of the room had shifted, and you couldn’t ignore the subtle chill creeping in through the dark windows. A thin layer of condensation had gathered on the glass, distorting the view outside, and making the room feel even more closed off from the world.

Rumi stretched her arms above her head, her casual demeanor returning. “So… did you spoil your dinner, or what?” she asked, her sharp ruby eyes glinting mischievously as she leaned back against the desk again.

You shook your head, your lips curving into a slight smile despite the weight still pressing on your chest. “No, I’m fine.”

You stepped away from them, your eyes catching the familiar sight of a desk on the far side of the room—Nemuri's desk. It stood there, untouched, like a ghost in the corner of your vision. The sight of it was enough to pull you across the room without another thought.

Your fingertips grazed the surface of the desk as you approached, running lightly along the smooth edge. There was a subtle warmth to the wood, but it felt different now, colder than you remembered. The chair tucked beneath it was slightly pushed out, as if Nemuri had only stepped away for a moment and could come back any second. 

But you knew she wouldn’t.

The urge to sit down overwhelmed you for a moment, a fleeting desire to feel closer to her, to feel her presence and pretend she was still here. But you couldn’t. 

You just… couldn’t. 

It wasn’t right. Instead, you stood there, fingers lightly tapping against the back of her chair. The leather was cool beneath your touch, the faint scent of her perfume still lingering in the air around you—soft, familiar, intoxicating in a way that was distinctly her. 

It made your chest ache.

She wasn’t just your mentor. She wasn’t just your colleague. Kayama was someone to you. And you couldn’t quite put a label on it. She was like a mother, an aunt, a sister—none of those roles really fit, but at the same time, she was all of them wrapped into one.

Nemuri Kayama was family. Blood didn’t matter. She saved you, in ways that no one else had, or maybe even could. She had been a constant in your life, someone you leaned on, someone you loved deeply.

And now she was lying in a hospital bed, her life hanging in the balance.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as your hand drifted over the desk, pausing at the drawer handles. They’d been replaced with little bars shaped like handcuffs—of course. You couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped you, though it was tinged with sadness.

Typical Mimi, always leaving her personal touch on everything, even the most mundane things. It made you smile, but at the same time, it felt like someone had taken a knife and twisted it in your chest.

The reality of her absence hit you harder than ever in that moment. Seeing her desk, the place where she’d spent so much time, the place she’d talked about so often, now cold and empty—it killed you inside. 

You missed her. God, you missed her so much it hurt.

Your fingers drummed lightly against the chair, your eyes misting over as you stood there in silence, feeling her presence even though she wasn’t there. She was everywhere and nowhere, and that was the hardest part. Rumi’s voice cut through the silence, softer than before.

“You good?”

You didn’t answer right away, your eyes still locked on the desk, but you nodded. “Yeah,” you murmured, though your voice felt distant. “Just… thinking.” Rumi let out a slow breath beside you. She didn’t say anything else, but you felt her presence at your side, solid and unwavering.

She knew. She didn’t need to ask more.

The room had grown colder, the night pressing in from outside. The windows, now fogged with condensation, reflected your blurred image back at you. The ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound, each second a reminder of time passing, of moments slipping away.

You took one last look at Nemuri’s desk, your heart heavy but full of love for the woman who had meant so much to you. Then, with a deep breath, you stepped away, forcing a smile as you turned back to Rumi and Taishiro.

"She’s still with us, you know," Rumi said, her voice low but firm.

"Nemuri. She’ll pull through."

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince her, or yourself. But it didn’t matter. For now, you just had to hold on to the hope that Rumi was right.

You could feel that same ache in your chest, the one that always surfaced when you thought about how close Nemuri had come to dying. But in that moment, you realized something important—no matter what happened, she would always be family to you. That wasn’t going to change.

For now, that's enough to keep you moving forward.

You shake your head, trying to push away the heaviness in your chest. There’s no point in dwelling on it right now—you’ve still got work to do. Opening your bag, you pull out a packet of disinfectant wipes. The familiar scent of lemon fills the air as you get to work, your hands moving automatically, as if cleaning could somehow clear your mind as well.

You start with Nemuri’s desk, running the wipe across the surface, the candles, and the essential oil bottles she kept arranged so neatly. Each object feels so personal, so distinctly her. You dust off the surface, your fingers grazing the edges of her history books, brushing away weeks of settled neglect. The quiet shuffle of pages makes the room feel less empty, like she’s still here, guiding you with every motion.

Her magazines are next. You reorganize them, stacking them neatly on the corner of her desk, though it’s hard to resist flipping through the pages to see if she’d left any more of her colorful sticky notes inside. The plush purple velvet armchair sits to the side, a favorite of hers. You give it a firm whack, sending a small cloud of dust into the air. It catches the dim light, tiny particles swirling before they settle again.

As you work, your fingers linger over the smaller details of her desk—her glasses case, the one you’d seen her pull from countless times. You gingerly open it, revealing the familiar red frames inside. A sad smile tugs at your lips as you pull them out, wiping the lenses with the proper cloth. The action feels intimate, like you’re caring for a piece of her. When you settle them back in the case, the click of the lid closing echoes softly in the quiet room. You place them back in their spot,

exactly how she left them.

“Gonna go grab my bag from the gym,” Taishiro says, breaking the silence as he stretches his arms over his head. “Left it there by accident. I’ll be right back.”

Rumi pushes herself off the desk, her eyes darting toward the door. “Yeah, I’ll be back in a sec. Gotta take a waz before we head out.” Her voice is casual, like it’s any other night, but you know she can feel it too—the heaviness hanging in the air.

You nod to both of them, giving a weak smile as they exit the room. The door swings closed behind them, leaving you alone. The silence feels thicker now, heavier. You avoid looking at Aizawa’s desk on the opposite side of the room. His presence feels like a looming shadow you’re not ready to face just yet.

Instead, you settle on the floor by Nemuri’s desk, pulling one of her textbooks into your lap. The pages are thick beneath your fingers, and you can’t help but take in the smell of the old paper—a mix of age, perfume, and the faintest trace of ink. Nemuri’s writing is everywhere, little scribbles in the margins, sticky notes marking important sections. Her handwriting is as familiar to you as your own, the quick loops of her letters reminding you of the notes she used to leave in your folder during those days when she’d taught you more than any class ever could.

'What would I give to have you here right now? I miss you.'

You blink hard, trying to push back the wave of emotion rising inside you. Tears prickle at the edges of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. Suicide 'fore you let a tear fall down your eye. You have to focus, keep moving, keep.... reading. You lean in closer to the textbook, skimming the words, though they blur slightly from the exhaustion and emotions swirling inside you.

Still, you take in everything—the smell of the pages, the feel of Nemuri’s familiar notes under your fingers. You’re catching up on what you’ll be teaching the kids next week, but more than that, you’re clinging to this connection, this small piece of her that’s still here.

'I wish you were here.'

Your quirk leaves a faint buzz in your body from earlier, a soft hum of energy spent from soothing the students. It dulls your senses slightly, making the room feel distant, your mind slipping into the rhythm of turning pages, tracing her handwriting. You’re wrapped up in it all—emotion, exhaustion, memories. So much so that you don’t hear the shift in the atmosphere around you. You don’t hear the approaching footsteps, heavier than Rumi’s or Taishiro’s, echoing down the hallway. The soft thud of boots against the floor doesn’t register.

It’s not until the shadow falls over you, cutting through the dim light, that the hairs on the back of your neck prickle in warning. You freeze, fingers still pressed against the textbook’s spine. Slowly, you lift your gaze.

Standing above you, glaring down with a harsh intensity, his dark, messy hair framing his face, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He’s silent, but his posture radiates disapproval. You feel a chill crawl down your spine.

“What are you doing?”

“AHHHHH!”

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, @naladrawssss, @bakugouswaif, @ivydoesit23 @zennypiee Lemme know if you wanna be added!

Here is the first chapter! Just updated on my ao3 account.

The master list for this.

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help motivate me. I have a Bakugou x Sugar Baby Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[airysthinkingbox]

okay- so- wemmbu hadn't planned on tearing their wing on a branch while flying today! and it certainly wasn't in the plan for it to hurt like hell!

most faes- as people might expect- can heal themselves or even negate damage. thats stupid and basic magic that wemmbu would rather spend the time learning those to instead teaching themself attacking magic.

well... they suppose those spells aren't actually.. that stupid since they would need them in this exact scenario... wemmbu was typically a great flyer too! they just.. got a little distracted...

anyways- the excruciating, aching pain in their back. right.

luckily, its just a tear. they could just walk back to their hollow or maybe find a fellow fae out here as well or-

"hello-!? are you okay??"

oh, another fae! thats goo-

...

that wasn't fae language.

faes spoke to each other in their language.

that was english.

wemmbu immediately tried to sit up from their pathetic laying position. clearly, their spine didn't agree with that and they flopped back down with a sound that was not an equally pathetic whine.

the person- if wemmbu's vision served true, he was an enderian, or something from the end- crouched down next to them, hand hovering over their back. he was inspecting them- inspecting their wing.

it was weird to have their wings admired looked at so intimately closely. its something only faes that were, y'know, not strangers did.

he was droning on about something- wemmbu couldn't catch any of it, no matter how hard they'd tried. it was literally so, so sad that they couldn't even identify any words from their second-best language.

suddenly, the guy picked them up. carefully, by the way he picked wemmbu up like a fish. well, it was better than having their wings be any more crumpled..

[onesidedradiostatic]

Ok so just because Alastor likely doesn't have cameras or a TV doesn't mean the hotel doesn't so you can bet Vox, from the moment he learned Alastor was back, was trying to spy fromt he screen. We also know he has this capability from the song, so it's not hard to imagine that Sir Pentious's failed infiltration wasn't even necessary. Either that or the hotel television has onky a limited view so Vox can only see a small portion of the hotel (and therefore not get enough footage of Alastor as he wants because he definitely stays just out of view when he's present)

Still the idea of Vox desperately trying to record or spy kn Alastor from every security camera or TV he passes and hsut utterly failing because Alastor scrambles the signal or stays just out of view so all he can see is maybe the flash of a claw or his coattails as he passes by. Alastor thinks it's hilarious

okay but the question is can vox spy through every camera/tv or only voxtek ones? when pentious was sent to the hotel, he stationed the specifically voxtek camera (which is how angel dust knew he was working for the vees) at a single fixed location. if vox was content with spying only from one fixed location and had access to like the tv in the hotel I doubt he would have sent pentious. vox also spies on alastor and the hotel through a voxtek drone if you look in episode 2 (I'd post a screenshot but do not have access to my laptop rn, just look at episode 2 right as vox turns on the screen to spy). he doesn't try to access anything inside the hotel, I think it can be probably assumed that he can't. and the tv in the hotel is specifically like really old looking, so I'm not sure if he can access it because of that either. what I am wondering though is how no one noticed the fucking voxtek drone flying around to spy on alastor during episode 8, I guess they had better things to worry about LMAOOOOO.

[haru-kuneko]

Am I the only one who understood "K Project"?

I remember some saying it was confusing as heck and also the fanservice made it hard to watch. At least with the first season, all I know is you have these groups of people who represent the Seven Kings. They are at war with each other though some have form an alliance such as Shiro (a.k.a. The Silver King) and Kuroh (a member of the Colourless Clan). We are yet to see The Green and Colourless Clan.

It's one of those shows that tend to leave some loose ends for the audience to figure out. My theory is following a massive incident that left a huge crater near Tokyo, the Dresden Slate, which is a huge artifact, was responsible for giving certain people powers. It's not just anyone but descendants of these Seven Kings. They set out to form their own clans. I don't think twelve episodes are enough to cover all of that. Maybe give it eight more episodes in S2.

I also wasn't expecting it to have drama especially when they had one of Homra/Red Clan, Tatara Totsuka, being murdered and it turns out Shiro was possessed by The Colourless King, who came in the form of a fox spirit, when he killed Tatara. The final episode was very heartbreaking as Mikoto (The Red King) died.

This show is underrated despite how heavily advertised it was. I still remember those promos on Animax constantly hyping how they'd air it on the same time as Japan. This would air like around late afternoon so I was able to watch all episodes after school. I think it'd work best as an indie series on YouTube. It's got an amazing animation and cast of characters.

I feel like if this came out today, it'd at least be in the same league as Murder Drones and RWBY. Oh, I just remembered they also had a manga, a visual novel game and radio drama series.

The manga actually came out after the anime and it got to expand more on the plot such as what a Strain is. I am guessing a Strain is like a spirit medium of sorts that possesses supernatural powers. I never read the manga so I'm just mentioning stuff based on a few screenshots online.

Now, the characters are what I love best. There is just something engaging about these two and makes you wanna learn about their relationships with one another as well their backstories.

Don't think we wouldn't notice you were in an anime, N! You're not so slick yourself!

Seriously, an awkward, white-haired cinnamon bun who can fly? He must be a Disassembly Drone in disguise. The character's name is Yashiro Isana a.k.a. Shiro.

This emo samurai dude over here is Kuroh Yatogami. I can't help but think how he looks like Haji from "Blood+." Hey, what happened to Saya? Don't tell me you broke up with her! Now, you're crushing on Shiro? Nah, I'm just kidding! It's just a coincidence.

I wouldn't be surprised if Izumo Kusanagi and Shizuo Heiwajima turn out to be twins. They both work as bartenders, have blonde hair and wear the same purple shades. The difference is the other is a rather chill guy who can shoot flames through his lighter while the other is a raging killing machine who could throw a whole vending machine at you.

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Explain!

Hopping on this open tag by @oh-no-another-idea (here)!

Imma go with Liam Steele and Dylan Millihan from What Lurks In The Hollow because that WIP is my new obsession/hyperfixation lmao

Okay, here we go!

LIAM STEELE

✨ Image ✨

✨ Song ✨

Break Stuff - Limp Bizkit

It's just one of those days when you don't wanna wake up Everything is fucked, everybody sucks You don't really know why, but you wanna justify Rippin' someone's head off No human contact, and if you interact Your life is on contract Your best bet is to stay away, motherfucker! It's just one of those days It's all about the he says/she says bullshit I think you better quit lettin' shit slip Or you'll be leavin' with a fat lip It's all about the he says/she says bullshit I think you better quit talkin' that shit

overwhelmed - Royal & The Serpent

What am I feeling? Can't look at the ceiling The light is so bright It's like I'm overheating This mind isn't mine Who am I to judge? Oh I should be fine But it's all too much I get overwhelmed so easily My anxiety creeps inside of me Makes it hard to breathe What's come over me Feels like I'm somebody else I get overwhelmed so easily My anxiety keeps me silent When I try to speak What's come over me Feels like I'm somebody else I get overwhelmed All of these faces Who don't know what space is And crowds are shut down

✨ Quote ✨

Liam fidgeted with his charm bracelet for a moment, in a compulsive, anxious rhythm, before taking a deep breath and closing his hands into fists, glaring at the bullies cluttering the street. "I don't think any of you motherfuckers heard me right, so Imma repeat myself - if you don't let go of that damn kid and get the fuck out of my way, I swear to fucking God I will bash your heads on the curb" He gave them a sharp, almost condescending smile, "And that's mostly because you're making me late for the arcade and I don't like that. Does that sound all good or do you need any more goddamn details?"

DYLAN MILLIHAN

✨ Image ✨

✨ Song ✨

Breakaway - Kelly Clarkson

Grew up in a small town And when the rain would fall down I'd just stare out my window Dreaming of what could be And if I'd end up happy I would pray Trying hard to reach out But when I tried to speak out Felt like no one could hear me Wanted to belong here But something felt so wrong here So I prayed I could breakaway I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change And breakaway

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman/Luke Combs

You got a fast car I want a ticket to anywhere Maybe we make a deal Maybe together we can get somewhere Any place is better Starting from zero got nothing to lose Maybe we'll make something Me, myself, I got nothing to prove You got a fast car I got a plan to get us outta here I been working at the convenience store Managed to save just a little bit of money Won't have to drive too far Just 'cross the border and into the city You and I can both get jobs And finally see what it means to be living ... So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car Speed so fast it felt like I was drunk City lights lay out before us And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder And I-I had a feeling that I belonged I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

✨ Quote ✨

"Look, none of us asked for this. But whether we like it or not, we're siblings and we're stuck together. More than ever, unfortunately, as much as I loathe to admit it. So we need to make this" He gestures around them, gaze lingering at the, well, still quite decrepit living room of the house, before settling back on Amy, "work out for us, somehow. And we need to stop being at each other's throats all the time - which, by the way, um, I'm..." It seemed physically difficult for him to say the words that were stuck in his throat, but eventually, he sighed and droned out the phrase, earnestly "...sorry for all the stuff I said. I was just really tired and angry, but I shouldn't have said all of that. None of this mess is your fault, and I don't think you're a bad sister, like at all. You're a great kiddo."

Dylan paused unsure of what to say next, but when he noticed that Amy wasn't frowning or sulking anymore but actually smiling softly in agreement, his uneasiness seemed to fade into what could almost be a smile too. "Anyways, let's cut the emotional crap before I feel sick to my stomach more than I already feel. Do you want some more cereal?"

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @wyked-ao3, @topazadine @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid @thecomfywriter

@thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @amaiguri

@cherrychiplip @thecomfywriter @thelovelymachinery @bookwormclover

@differentnighttale, @leahnardo-da-veggie

[ask-elliot-doorman-fam]

Kiki, since disassembly drones like N and V don't actually use their wings to fly like Uzi and Tera do, if you could use the same method they do, would you try to learn how to fly?

"It's not so much the flying as it is the height... I know it's irrational... if any of Tera's family were giving me a ride I know they wouldn't drop me...

"It's just... my first experience flying wasn't with Tera... I got picked up by a Sky Snatcher and then dropped... it's kinda hard to think about anything else when I'm in the air."

[ohshi-kaboom]

Murder Drones Rider Au + Uzi fanart

Or should i say... Murder Drive AU HEHEHEHE

This lovely amalgamation was made by yours truly when putting murder drones and pretty bikes on a blender hoping for something fancy. And i did it.

The mechanics are simple! (Haha get it? Mechanics)

Uzi is a moody mechanic (i will get real tired of the word mechanic and so will you.) Working in your local Auto shop: Copper's 9 ! Owned by daddy dearest Khan Doorman! She mostly does repairs and common car maintenance, aaand if she decides she likes you well enough you'll get some neat modifications for half the price! (Its a lie but only she knows that)

In her free time she stays around the back of the store repairing and selling old cars as a hobby that also doubles as a side hustle.

Her life in home isn't as sweet as she would hope for but she's learned to cope, something that she specializes in after her Moms disappearance; Nori Doorman, presumed dead.

Shes the only occupant of a nice little apartment, moving from their parents house a few years after Nori's disappearance and Khan's neglect. Rarely visited by anyone she stays little time in her apartment, either watching anime after a tiring day, eating lunch, showering after a messy oil spill or just existing after closing hours. Youll definitely see her more at the shop doing gods knows what this time. The reson why Uzi doesn't spend more time in the little home shes built herself is because of the atmosphere, too cold and gloomy for her liking, the barren space reminding her too much of her loneliness.

("She looks soo much like Uzi" you all say in unison.)

Nathaniel, or best known as "N" is a Bike racer, youll see him proudly sporting his various motorcycles all earned by his sweat, hard work, and money from illegal races.

N has and incredible set of bad luck, following him like a stubborn rain cloud with every single bike he touches breaking down at some point. No matter how much he dotes over them or how carefull he is; they will break. And thats a promise from the universe, aparently.

He lives in a fairly big house with his other two roommates: Jay, "J" and Veronica, "V". They all participate in their own races, N and V competing frequently while J sits back and collects their winnings. J also participates in rare ocations.

When N is not flying through the streets, or winning the months rent he resides in his little corner of the garage painting, drawing, scrap booking or doing whatever craft he can get his hands onto.

(I will probably add more on N later on)

N and Uzi meet when Ns bike breaks in "the middle of nowhere" according to V, so he just sits quietly besides the road waiting for either backup (V showing up to rescue him after cackling over the phone and then hanging up) or to simply perish. Uzi was heading to the workshop in Railgun (a very beat up, highly modified but very loved minitruck that she herself constructed from other cars parts) When she came across a very puppy kicked to the side of the road sad looking person laying down besides the road by a very nice looking motorcycle. She slows down to take a quick peek to the bike when the person laying down jumps immediately at her side after noticing her slowing down, begging asking for a ride to the closest Auto shop explaining how his bike broke. Uzi (although very begrudgingly) decides to help this weird friendly stranger as her good deed of the year. She parks to the side of the road helping N heave the bike into the trunk and waits until he hops into the passenger seat to begin their way to Copper's 9.

After Fixing N's bike (and getting a tip she will not complain about) She gives the rundown on what the problem of the bike was and how to avoid it. N thanks her (a little too much if you ask Uzi) and parts ways. Uzi not dwelling about it goes on to the rest of her day, not thinking about seeing N again anytime soon.

Not even a week later N shows up again with another bike, this one looking like it went into the devils asscrack and back. Uzi just gives him a glare and gets to work.

That is NOT the last time that happens. (She counts 12 visits in one month, what the hell N?)

So! This is the basic information about my silly little Au, i don't have a name for it yet, I have been calling it Murder Drive for gits and shiggles but i don't know if I should make it the official name of this Au, if you have any suggestions tell me about it!

And I've been thinking about making it a fic buuut I've never written anything lengthy before, and English is not my first language so you can imagine how I feel.

Do tell me how you feel about it, or if you have any asks send 'em my way!

ALSO! THIS IS A HUMAN AU!! YAYAY HUMANS‼️‼️