#present mic is the only man that i trust

[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

[15minlatewithbatbucks]

It's forty minutes into the latest state of the company press conference and Bruce has had to mute his mic entirely to avoid being turned into a meme AGAIN for sighing too much at his own event. For all that he's spent almost 20 years coaching his own children on not making scenes, he's really not much better. It's hot and he doesn't want to be here. His ribs hurt. He's tired. He's hungry. He's every excuse Dick or Jason have trotted out over the years.

(Tim understands company manners and can almost always be trusted to stick it out as long as he's allowed to vent his frustrations afterwards. He's recently taken to smashing ugly thrifted dishes. Stephanie and Damian have been collecting any ceramic not entirely pulverized and turning them into pavers for Alfred's garden.)

(Bruce gave up after Tim. He really only needs one kid to tag along to social events. If the kid start to outnumber him they start getting IDEAS.)

His distraction is why it takes two very rude repetitions of his name for him to take notice at the young reporter pushing his way to the front. Lucius stands, cutting off the project manager currently presenting and speaks into the mic.

"Please keep hold all questions until the end of the presentation, thank you."

"Mr. Wayne," the reporter tries again and Bruce waves away Lucius's further protests.

"Can I help you?" He asks, smiling with the full force of Brucie Wayne's charm behind it. It's been awhile since his last scandal, but if the press is inventing drama then it's less work for him.

The man holds up a photograph almost accusingly. He reeks of gotcha journalism.

Bruce squints towards him, unable to fully make out the contents of the photo. Dick may have been right when he gently suggested Bruce add glasses to his Brucie Wayne persona but that was a hill Bruce was still willing to die on. It was bad enough he had to have a prescription COWL.

"What do you have to say about the presence of your adopted son, Timothy Drake at the illegal mob in Robinson Park last Saturday?"

"Drake-Wayne," Bruce corrected because Tim hyphenated, damn it. He was the first of his children to let Bruce tag the Wayne name on and it mattered, damn it. "Wait do you mean-"

"How about reports of him kissing a man while there?"

"A blond man?" Bruce asked, finally giving up and crossing to take the photo for himself. "Oh. No, that's his boyfriend."

There was a beat of silence before Bruce realized his mistake. Just as the reporters began to squall, he dropped the blurry photo and began to speed walk off, phone suddenly in hand.

Through the podium's microphone, the gathered reporters heard one thing as Bruce evacuated the immediate vicinity.

"Tim? Don't be mad."

---

Despite Bruce's best efforts, he becomes a meme.

---

Immediately following the bombshell that Timothy Drake-Wayne had a boyfriend, social media blows up, clamoring for more information. They're ravenous for it, desperate. Tim doesn't have a personal social media presence but they stalk his professional accounts religiously. Bruce does have personal social media, but he maintains radio silence.

In the end, a Gotham based "influencer" stumbles across Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne getting donuts at Kosher Donuts and Co. Dick is personable, as always, and stops to speak with the young woman briefly.

"Yeah, Tim wasn't mad," he laughs when asked. "Just disappointed. But man, he knows how to milk it."

"Bruce is in the doghouse, huh?" she asks, full of false sympathy.

"A little bit," Dick says as Damian mumbles, "Titus would never share."

"But," Dick continued. "Tim's spun it so Bruce is on the hook for like, half a million in donations for local LGBT charities. Tim says it would hurt less if he sponsored a new shelter too, so that's something to look forward to."

"That's a lot of money! Where's it all going?"

"Oh you know," Dick says and gestures vaguely. "A lot of different programs."

"Yeah? Anything you personally want to see done with the funding?"

"Drag story time," Damian answers before Dick can. He looks intense. "But not for children. For dogs. In the shelter."

---

A day later, Tim breaks the silence. He goes live on Bruce's Instagram.

"So the problem was that Bruce thought the reporter was saying I was being unfaithful," Tim explains. "He totally forgot I wasn't out to everyone yet. Bruce was just worried because he's already told me if I break up with my boyfriend, he's not uninviting him from any future family events."

"Luckily, I was in fact just kissing my boyfriend at PRIDE. Just because people got shifty with the permits at the last second because of protestors doesn't make it an illegal mob. If you wanna hear about Wayne's and illegal mobs, talk to Dickie about his younger years. Nothing I do can compare."

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Could you do Platonic Yanderes Endeavor (reformed), Aizawa, Present Mic, with a child darling who wears a mask and basically said screw hero life and became a vigilante + them finding out there a kid under the mask

Child Vigilante Reader | Yandere Boku No Hero Academia

They recognized that you were short and the words you’d say sounded funny in your deep voice modulator. But it still came as a surprise when they pulled that mask off your face to reveal the lightly battered face of a young child:

Aizawa Shota

Just by your height and general instinct as a hero he’s always putting a protective arm in front of you

And he figures your young with your insistent yells that ‘you’re not a kid’ 

Only to pick up your injured body taking off your mask to check if your okay

Only to be filled with an overwhelming urge to protect you as he registered how little you are

You’re his kid now 

No questions asked

He takes you to his home, having had you checked up by the doctors

He’ll do his research find out what you’re homelife is like

when you don’t show up and a fuss isn’t raise he takes it upon himself to officially adopt you

“You’re not my dad!”

“Your papers don’t say so!”

“Then give ‘em to me I’ll burn it now!”

“No!”

He’s used to dealing with rowdy kids

And he’s willing to deal with your now unpowered fits

And most animosity is cleared up when he gives you some food

You’ll try to run away but he catches you everytime

And eventually you’ll fall into a cycle

Where you join him as you fight crime 

Then you go home and live the domestic life with Aizawa

He doesn’t stop you until he feels like its too dangerous and when you’re lured into a false sense of security

“Sorry kid, I can’t have you getting hurt. Trust me this is an act of love.”

Hizashi Yamada

He probably quietly follows you at the end of a long day

Doing the thing he’s never doing around you: Being Quiet

Usually he doesn’t mind working with you 

After a couple attempts to bring you in he doesn’t anymore

And instead just works in harmony with you 

Usually joking and bantering with you to turn down all his jokes

But he’s horrified to know that your a kid

Young enough to be his kid is so nonreactive to his animated actions

What made you so serious!?

He does the same as Aizawa 

Finds out your homelife and legally takes control

“Whazzup kiddo! Guess who’s your new daddy!?”

“A bumbling frat boy idiot-hero?”

“Ack! H-how do you even know to insult me like that!?”

He’s not the best at catching you if you try to run away 

But you’re so lucid you’ll end up willingly moving in with him

because child services

He tries 

He really does

But you’re such a little adult you end up teaching him how to properly take care of you

He doesn’t really restrict you because you seem like you’re so smart

You usually outsmart him enough to keep doing your vigilante work

But the one time he outsmarts you, he might get some help you’re stuck

At least for this major battle you were prepared to die defeating

“Sorry baby bird, but I can’t have you getting hurt. That’s for your papa to deal with!” 

Todoroki Enji (Reformed)

“And you’ll be going away for a loong time.”

“Yes…thank you for your help with this one.”

“Of course! Always happy to help!” 

“...”

“...”

“...Now reveal yourself to me!” 

“Hey!? Let me go!”

He’s suspected you were young from the beginning 

And it infuriates him now

That some idiot father of yours would let you run around like this

They’re probably as bad as he was 

And he can’t let that be

So he’ll go to your family’s home

And tear them a new one 

Practically bullying them into signing adoption papers or at the very least making you meet up with him weekly daily

He’s such an old man

Lecturing you about how you dress 

Scolding you when he finds you fighting villains

He’ll force a bunch of tracking devices and bugs in your room 

So that he can keep you safe

And when it gets real he doesn’t mind locking you wherever he decides is best

“I’ve done…a lot of horrible things. I’ve hurt my family. I’ve hurt my fans. And you’ll probably hate me but you need me to protect you, to guide you. So trust me, this is for your own good.”

[replaycamera2]

What Your Fave Redacted Character Says About You

Davey - You value a lot of things in a man: the most important being his ability to snap you in half.

Asher - You are the annoying younger sibling who is completely aware of exactly how much they can get away with via years of experience.

Milo - When people ask you what your hobbies are you say “reading” but the silent part of that answer is “fanfiction”

Vincent - I could go on for hours about all the parasocial relationships you’ve had in your life.

Sam - You’re rapidly running out of things other than yourself to blame for your problems, and honestly, it’s just a cry for help at this point.

Lasko - The people in your life have learned not to use the turn of phrase, “What’s the worst that could happen?” Because you will immediately launch into a 20 minute PowerPoint presentation with cited sources on exactly everything that could possibly go wrong.

Damien - Your parents were PTA terrorists. They were planning your bid for student council president while you were still in the womb.

Hux - For the people who think other people are always flirting with them or buttering them up, but they’re honestly just being nice and you never really learned how appropriately reciprocate that because life has taught you that everyone is always after something.

Gavin - God gave you depression and anxiety because if he didn’t, you’d be competing for his job

Avior - You’re either a burned out “gifted kid” or you only just got diagnosed with ADHD in your mid 20s. No in between.

Vega - Dear god do you love to be stepped on

Blake - You can not fix him. YOU CAN NOT FIX HIM.

Elliott - The ultimate fantasy of every demi-sexual out there.

Aaron - Depends: if you’re a straight woman, this is just everyone’s daddy fantasy. Otherwise, you’re a white gay guy. Only they would see a 1-to-1 recreation of their bully and go, “That is my husband.”

Ivan - I’m not saying you’re scary when you’re mad, I’m just saying the Venn diagram of people who have crossed you and the people you never hear from again is a circle

James - Admit it, you find degradation just a little bit hot. Just give in and go for it, it’ll be cathartic, trust me.

Anton - Literally that meme of “Thank you for changing my life.” “I’m literally a white man from Arizona mumbling and mouth-breathing into a mic.”

Geordi - “Patience of a saint” and “persistence of a rock” do not even begin to describe you. We have had nothing but radio silence from this man for 7 months.

Regulus - You just want someone to end your existence without actually killing you and honestly, valid take.

Guy - Your insecurities might scream at every person you meet, but not if you scream louder

Ollie - Your life moves from one disaster to the next and you are desperate for a shred of stability, which is probably why you’re listening to boyfriend role-play.

Morgan - There are two kinds of people in this fandom: Those who know what “19 months” means, and those who don’t.

[specialagentlokitty]

Kirishima x reader - heroes together

Hi, I was wondering if you could write a fic with any of the(hero) mha boys you want. It would be about the reader either having to much pressure on by her family to like be stronger and better then others, so reader is stressed out about that and over-works herself because of it OR people saying the readers quirk is villain like and it makes them insecure about their quirk. Any pronouns are fine! - Anon💜

Standing in front of the student from class B, you raised your hand to the side, the rattling of skeletons rising from the ground.

“Look at this power! Amazing!” Midnight gushed.

The skeletons walked over and stood next to you, surrounding you, and you raised your hand towards the student.

Your skeletons attacked, everytime they got hit and fell apart, they would just come back together again, going straight to the attack.

You dodged the attack of your opponent.

“What amazing strength from (Y/N)!” Present mic yelled.

You could hear the shouting of your classmates to supposed you, but they weren’t enough to drown out the voices of the people watching from the stands.

What a disgusting quirk.

Monstrous.

Could never be a hero.

No one would ever trust that quirk.

You lowered your hand, the skeletons crumbling to dust, confusing your opponent.

There was some confused murmuring from the stands.

“What’s this?! Is (Y/N) giving up?!” Mic called.

Aizawa narrowed his eyes a little, watching the scene play out.

Your classmates shouted for you to keep fighting, and you ignored them, making them shout even more.

Kirishima kept shouting the loudest, his eyes solely focused on you, but you just walked out of bounds.

You had willingly thrown your match, and everybody didn’t know whether to cheer or not as you walked away from the stadium.

Kirishima was waiting for you to come back to the stands, but you never did, so he tried to call you, but you left it unanswered.

He was feeling uneasy as he started at his phone.

“Come on, I’m sure they’re okay man.” Kaminari whispered.

“It’s not like (Y/N) to not answer my calls…” Kirishima mumbled.

Kirishima got up, and he looked at the rest of his glass.

“Sorry! I’ll be back later!”

With that, he run away.

He knew where to find you if you weren’t answering your calls, there was only one place where you felt comfortable to be yourself.

He jogged to the far end of the school, surrounded by trees, playing a card game with one of your skeletons.

A rattled sounded through the forest, and you looked over at him just before he reached the clearing.

“Hey…” he whispered.

You turned back to the card game that you were playing.

“Hey, why are you here?” You asked.

“You forfeit your match man!”

He walked over, dropping himself next to you and the skeleton took all the cards, shuffling them again as he dealt them out to the two of you before going back into the ground.

You gave a little shrug.

“Was a pointless waste of my power.”

Kirishima glanced at you, then placed a card on the grass.

“I know you heard what they said…”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

You tossed your cards to the ground, then got up, walking away from him.

Kirishima scrambled to picked them all up, running after them.

“(Y/N) come on!”

“They’re right Kirishima! How are people going to trust me with such an ugly quirk!?”

You clenched your jaw, balling your hands into fists at your side.

“I don’t have a flashy quirk like you all, I don’t have a hero quirk. My dad was a villain, people look at my quirk and that’s all they’re ever going to see.”

“Hey! Don’t say that! A quirk doesn’t make someone a villain!” He yelled.

You sighed heavily, turning away from him.

“Just drop it.”

You went to walk away again, but he ran after you.

Kirishima grabbed your hand, making you stop in your tracks and he walked around in front of you, grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re gonna be an awesome hero!”

He slammed his knuckles together.

“We got this!”

You let out a small laugh.

He planted his hands on your shoulders, shaking you back and forth a little bit.

“Come on! Come back with me!”

“I don’t want to..”

“I don’t care what they all say! You shouldn’t either! We know you’re gonna be an amazing hero!”

“They’ll look at me weirdly…”

Kirishima took his blazer off, draping it over your head, and he took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together.

“Now they can’t see you!”

He went to pull your forward but you refused to move, and he turned around, his grin falling as he frowned a little bit.

Kirishima ducked down, so he could have a look at you.

“I hate my quirk…” you whispered.

“Why? It’s amazing, and you can help so many people with it right? You wanna be a rescue hero don’t you?”

“I don’t know any more…”

“You can’t think like that!”

You looked up at him with a little frown.

“Come on, don’t let them get to you. There’s so many quirks people don’t like, but if you show people you’re not scared, that you’re going to become a hero despite what they say. I mean we know you! We know you’re a hero!”

Kirishima planted his hands in your cheeks, leaning forward to put his forehead on yours.

“Please don’t give up…” he whispered.

You sighed again, nodding your head.

“Okay…”

You had grown up with him, you two had always had the dream of becoming heroes together, that you were going to save so many people.

Kirishima pulled away with a wide grin, and he crouched down in front of you.

You climbed in his back, resting your chin on his shoulder, pulling blazer up a little to hide your face.

You held the blazer with one hand, your other arm wrapped around his other shoulder, clutching lightly at his shirt.

As he began to walk through the crowds of people again you hid your face from the civilians and the heroes alike.

“Come on, don’t be so shy!” He laughed.

“I don’t like all the looks…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll head back to the stands, that way people can’t look at you anymore. Mr Aizawa isn’t going to be happy you just walked away though.”

You gave a small shrug.

Kirishima turned his head to grin at you a little, and you gave a little smile back.

“We’re gonna be the greatest heroes.” He said.

You nodded your head, going back to hiding your face in his shoulder as people watched the pair of you walk past

[tonberry-yoda]

I have an idea! I have really bad food issues and a lot of times eating at certain restaurants makes me sick, so there's like a 60% chance I'll be throwing up in a restaurant every time. So how about headcannons or maybe a short drabble for different bnha characters who knew their boyfriend had food issues but didn't realize how bad it was until they went to check on him?

Some of the character I really want are iida, hizashi, Aizawa, Monoma, and Shoji. If you want to add more or don't want to do any of these go ahead and change up the list ^^

Iida, Present Mic, Aizawa, Monoma, and Shoji with a reader who has some food issues

notes - HI! Sorry this took some time but I was finally able to get to it! I already let you know how I changed it up a bit, so I hope you don't mind that they decide to cook for the reader instead!!! I hope you have a super day and stay super hydrated! <3

Iida

this man would make sure you are fed the way you need to be

if he were to ever take you on a date, he would ask exactly what you would want to eat at a restaurant and research until he finds the perfect one

usually though, he prefers to cook for you

at first, you were a little nervous to tell him about the situation and kind of just avoided eating when he would take you out to somewhere to eat

but being the loving bf he is, he asked exactly what was going on and you were honest, as you could trust him

from then on, he kept record of your favorite foods and made sure that what he was making you was exactly what you enjoyed!

he wants you to stay healthy and happy and will do anything to make that happen <3

Present Mic

im sorry but this man cannot cook for the life of him

i mean he definitely tried to learn once he heard about your problem

know that he's trying <3

but at the end of the day, he will have you pick the place that you go eat or will eat what you cook if that's what you like to do!

but I think he stresses that he's going to be doing the wrong thing if he takes you out, just assure him that he's doing alright <3

he just loves you so much and wants to make you happy and make sure you're healthy, so he'll do anything for you <3

Aizawa

MAMMA AIZAWA TIME

this man will take care of you TO THE EXTREME

he will learn to cook anything for you and even bake if you have a sweet tooth

i feel like he had to cook for himself at a very young age and I see him as a pretty picky eater, so he can definitely help make you something that will help you out

he doesnt often take you out to eat just because that isn't super his jam

he made a love language out of cooking for you and just loves to see the smile on your face after you eat something

Monoma

he will treat you like the most important thing in his life

so yes

that means with food too

he definitely had to learn how to cook or get some friends to help, but know that he's putting in the effort

he feels like that isn't his best way of showing you his love since he's still trying, but know he will put in the effort!!!!!

teach him if you can because he is willing to learn, even if he is embarrassed that he has to ask for help lol

Shoji

a man of many talents

i feel like this man can cook like no other

so if you tell him what you love, expect it to be there for you as a breakfast in bed, or a surprise lunch <3

he wants to make sure you are well fed especially with your problem and he will do anything to make sure that is done

he will try new things or even ask you to teach him what you like to eat

he just cares about you a lot and knows how important food is, so he will do anything <3

~~~~~

mha masterlist (2) | pinned post

2023@tonberry-yoda– do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

Please forgive my late submission.

My least favorite headcanon is that All Might is a groomer (not in the sexual sense, but obviously I'd hate that too).

It's just downright disgusting to take his and Izuku's sweet and supportive father-son relationship and turn it into that. Of course these are Dadzawa stans trying to push that "progressive" Aizawa's gonna save Izu from the "bigot" All Might. Oh, but Aizawa choosing to train Shinsou is fine.

The only ones I'd call groomers are the HPSC, AFO, Endeavor, Nighteye, and Uwabami. They're actually the ones exploiting and using kids for their own person goals/agendas

Ew, I didn’t even know that was a head-canon but that’s disgusting. Yes, All Might isn’t the best teacher, but he genuinely cares for Izuku. Let’s go back to the Sports Festival. All Might told Izuku that this was his chance to show the world who he was, but when Izuku lost to Shoto and tried to apologize for doing so, All Might told him that it doesn’t matter that he lost, he was still proud of him for not only making it so far, but for seeing someone in pain and doing the right thing.

What’s crazy is that people ignore the odd flags Shota gives off for wanting to train Hitoshi. All Might saw Izuku’s pure heart and believed that he’d make for a great successor. Meanwhile, Present Mic remarks that Hitoshi looks like Oboro. For some reason, this makes me think of Nighteye and how he took in Mirio partially because he looks like All Might. Am I saying Shota’s a groomer? No. I’m just saying that it’s weird people wanna criticize All Might’s relationship with Izuku, a relationship that’s built on trust and relative understanding, rather than a relationship that’s come to existence because some 30 year old man saw a kid and decided to train him cause he looks like his dead friend.

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Name: Izuku Midoriya

Quirk: Found Family - Unconsciously, Izuku constantly emits a low-level psychic field that, when someone gets caught in, makes that person want to adopt Izuku as their son/nephew/brother/etc. When in distress, the psychic field strengthens, forcing all those who have "adopted" Izuku to become murderous towards whoever or whatever distressed Izuku. Curiously, the only ones immune to this quirk are those with shitty/douchey personalities (e.g. Bakugou, Mineta, Endeavor, etc).

I love you, @ tumblr user onimi18

It’s so true though

The, “I’m not here to make friends squad” (shinsou and Shouto) both become besties with izuku (shinsou loves him, I don’t care what anyone says. After izuku tells everyone about ofa and rants about how great shinsou’s quirk is? Shinsou pledges his soul to this green demon.

Aizawa tries to resist for the longest time, but soon comes to realize that he would do anything for his son, Problem Child

Present mic accepts that he has a son within the first four days of knowing izuku. Izuku asks if mic could teach him JSL, he already started to learn because he’s hard of hearing (thanks, bakugou), but he figures that Mic would be able to help more than YouTube.

Midnight finds izuku’s hero analysis blog online and raves about it to the other teachers she reblogs from him and screen shots it to every social media she has and proudly proclaims that this is her student, and that he’s going to be a great hero

All might starts sometimes taking him out for ice cream after training him a few months before ua

Uraraka is the first of the UA students to be affected by his quirk. He helps her out during the entrance exam, and she promptly declares herself president of the Izuku Protection Squad/Club, Iida soon becomes treasurer

Kirishima one day asks bakugou why he’s such an asshole to the literal embodiment of heroism and sunshine, and bakugou just goes on a highly rude and offensive rant about how useless izuku is, which is like,,, #1 way to find yourself with a bunch of people angry at you. Kirishima stands up for izuku though :)

I don’t care who you ship izuku with, they will get SO many shovel talks. Not just by the adults, but by izuku’s friends too

The most terrifying one to give the suitor The Talk tm is Inko. That’s her baby, and she trusts his judgement on who he chooses to date, and by all means, she knows that he can take care of himself (can he though @ the vigilante arc), but she’ll be damned if there isn’t the added factor of, “hurt my child and face my quirk that can tear you apart atom from atom”

Big brother izuku and his little sister Eri. They are adorable. They could kill you and you would thank them because, honestly, if they decided to do so, there is a good reason for it.

Izuku is Eri’s favorite person, and he is literally overjoyed when she tells him this. She finds him when she has nightmares, and he is always ready to comfort her and assure her that everything is, and will be, okay

Izuku stands up for Kaminari after people start making fun of him when he short circuits. He makes sure that he’s okay, and protects him from any harm that could befall him. After that, Kaminari too, pledges his soul to the green demon

Monoma tries to hide the fact that he does care for izuku, but after izuku fucks off for his vigilante arc, Monoma has a mild breakdown along with most people who have interacted with Izuku in recent months. Where is the class a bastard? Why is he not here? Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn’t he ask for help? Why is he putting himself in so much danger? If he had asked literally 90% of UA would be at his side in an instant

Mei decides that Mr. 1 million is great after he helps her with her babies and helps her tests them. She decides that he’s even more reckless than she is after his solo mission where he goes off the grid for a while and tries to hunt down the worst super villain known to man. But hey, who is she to judge? She’ll support this mad man and help make all the tech he needs as long as he partners with hatsume industries, and she knows he will, because he’s great and definitely meets her crazy

Momo realizes how great Izuku is after he helps reassure her after she lost her fight at the sports festival. He finds her and talks about how great her quirk is and how smart she is. They are paired up for a project one time, and completely dominate. They help build each other’s confidence so much. I literally love these two so much, they’re both smart and insecure as shit. Momo loves listening to izuku’s analysis and makes comments every now and then too, and izuku just dies inside because he’s not being told to shut up or being called weird

Jirou always walks into the dorms on Saturday mornings asking for song recs. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, izuku makes her a playlist of some rare songs that she might not have heard yet, and Jirou promises that she would burst eardrums for this dude

Speaking of the dorms, when they are set up, the quirk becomes so much more powerful. Like, everyone already loved izuku, but now? He is their son/brother/cousin/nephew/crush/whatever the fuck, they care about him.

One time, he got to talking with toga, and soon enough, she’s spilling her tragic backstory Shouto style. *another one bites the dust plays in the distance* izuku has a new sister. Congratulations, everyone, a new member of the Izuku Protection Squad/Club has been found (I know this probably wouldn’t happen in Canon, but I love toga so much and if given proper quirk counseling and/or caring parents, she would have found her way into the izucrew. I stand by this and my mind will not be changed.)

Mina teachers izuku how to deal with his curly hair. She was appalled when she found out how he used to take care of them and makes it her mission to fix this tragedy. But she also really helps with his confidence. I love this duo so much, the chaos that they reign on UA is great.

Izuku is one of the first people to treat dark shadow like their own individual entity, and Tokoyami is shook. Sometimes, dark shadow, Tokoyami, and izuku hang out at night when they can’t sleep. So does anyone who wakes up from nightmares and can’t go back to sleep

Now. Aizawa was terrified of Nezu getting his hands on izuku’s analysis notebooks. He still has nightmares about how it happened, honestly. But one day, izuku was called out of class by Nezu and Aizawa honestly wondered if he should hand in his resignation. It took mic to convince him not to, but mic was also terrified of what would befall the world after Nezu got his hands on either izuku or momo (which we’ll get to in a moment). After a very long and interesting conversation with izuku, Nezu requests that he be shown all of izuku’s notebooks.

His laughs can be heard echoing across the school. Shivers go down spines. The sun hides behind the clouds.

Izuku tells Nezu that sometimes momo will do analysis with him, and that she’s a really great strategist, just lacks confidence.

Again, Aizawa feels his world tip on its axis as momo yaoyorozu is called into the principle’s office.

Soon, they are both appointed as nezu’s personal students, meeting up twice a week.

No one knows what goes on during those meetings and no one has the Gaul to ask.

Except Mina. But she doesn’t get a real answer from either of the students.

Koda loves that izuku is the first student of UA that he can comfortably communicate with through JSL, other students start learning after a few weeks though after learning that it’ll be easier to communicate with izuku, koda, and present mic if they can, and they don’t want anyone to feel excluded!

Sero loves pre-quirk era superhero movies, and overhears izuku talking about them one day. Immediately runs over and asks if he knows spider-man. He does. They need out about it for hours. Izuku overheard someone saying that Sero is, “plain looking” and stands up for him,. Sero is sinfkwnfitjsjks. Izuku tells izuku that people say the same thing about him, which Sero honestly cannot understand, because this boy is obviously precious and deserves the world. Yes, he could easily destroy said world, but if he decided to do so, he’d definitely have a reason and sero would support him

Izuku is not sure how he went from having one (1) person (his mother) care about him, to having a whole fleet of people who have his back 1000%, and he honestly struggles to accept that people genuinely care about him. Shouto theorizes that it’s a quirk first. He blatantly says that izuku has a quirk that makes people want to adopt him in some way, shape, or form bur shouto’s conspiracy theories are never taken very seriously by most people. He will never let them go though. He’s right. He knows it.

I love this so much, pleaseeee😭😭😭😭 thank you for this wonderful theory that is 1000% true 💙💙

[sunlightdances]

Lost In Time | Dean x OFC | Chapter Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC Series Summary: Sam and Dean answer Jody’s call about a ghost wandering in the woods, calling for help, wearing period clothing. Thinking they’re taking a break from the end of the world and handling a run of the mill haunting, they hit the road, unaware their world is about to be turned upside down. Genre: Time travel AU, WW2, Romance, Angst Warnings: None for this part. Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, or Sam and Dean. Eva is an original character, and mine. The depictions of members of Easy Company in this story are based on the actor’s interpretation in the HBO series Band of Brothers, which I also don’t own.  A/N: *Taps mic* Is this thing still on? Uh, hey. Hi. It's me. I have not been here in ages. But I re-read this the other day and got the itch again. So here we are - another chapter. *SNL Stefon voice* This chapter has EVERYTHING. An Outlander reference. More Band of Brothers references. Dean having an emotional ~*crisis*~ … enjoy!

Masterlist / Prologue / Chapter One / Chapter Two

1944

“Anything?” Lieutenant Dick Winters asks as Nixon walks into the mess hall in the early morning, rubbing his eyes.

“Nothing.” Nixon replies, gratefully taking the warm cup of coffee shoved in his direction.

“Did you ask Harry?” Dick asks, referring to their latest transfer, another Lieutenant from the 82nd. “He’s good at knowing things he isn’t supposed to.” 

Nixon offers a wry smile. “This one might be a little harder to figure out.”

The truth is, Nixon doesn’t really trust anyone outside of Easy Company to care about what might have happened to Eva Simmons. Lt. Welsh is a new transfer, and Nixon likes him well enough, but he’s not sure who to trust when it comes to finding her.

Simmons made friends in Easy, despite all the odds, and even in her short time training with them, she proved herself smart and capable. She reminded them all of their sisters, he supposes, and he knows the men have a soft spot for her. Deep down, Dick is as worried as Nixon is - Lewis can see it in the furrow between the man’s brow, the tight set of his jaw.

Later, Nixon sits down behind his desk and puts his head in his hands. A dozen or so coded messages came through overnight, but nothing from Simmons. 

“Where are you?” He whispers, looking at the maps in front of him. They’ve only got two more days before the weather is meant to clear.

Two more days before they have no choice to drop on Normandy, whether they know what they’ll be facing there or not.

.

Present Day

Eva has nightmares. 

Dean could hear her, all the way down the hall in his own bedroom. At first, he thought something had happened to her, but when he tried to check, Jody was already there, leaning on the wall outside Eva’s room. 

She shook her head, telling him not to worry, and that he should go back to sleep. 

Fat chance of that happening. 

He has no idea how to help her, and it’s frustrating. He and Sam have faced nearly every scenario in hunting - ghosts, vampires, angels… but this? She’s not a spirit with unfinished business. She’s a time traveler. An important one, from what he can gather.

In the morning, he goes straight to the library where Sam is waiting, a cup of coffee steaming on the table. He’s frowning.

“What?”

Sam glances up. “I’m– having a hard time finding anything out about Eva.”

Dean takes a sip of the coffee. “So? It was a long time ago. Technically.” 

Sam shakes his head. “No, like– I can’t even find a record of her. Her family, her ancestry… I can’t even find any record of her enlistment.”

Dean frowns, leaning over Sam’s shoulder so he can see the screen. 

“There should be some record of this - it’s a public database.” 

Right away, Dean’s spidey senses start tingling. “I knew it.” Dean says, voice pitched low. “This hasn’t been right from the start.” 

“Before you jump to conclusions–” 

“Already jumped.”

“Dean–” Sam stands, trying to ward off his brother’s temper.

“She’s in our home, Sam. We drove for hours to help her.” 

“Dean, you’re overreacting. We didn’t even think she was real. We had no idea any of this was going to happen, and she didn’t either.”

“Or that’s what she wants us to think.” 

Sam shakes his head, but he doesn’t reply.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean knows he’s being reactive. It’s in his DNA. He has this fierce, innate need to protect his brother, to protect anyone who is important to him. But – this is all too convenient. The entire thing is batshit crazy to begin with. They’re so quick to believe a story after everything they’ve seen, but what if she’s lying?

Sam basically reads his mind. “What reason would she have to pretend she’s from the 1940s?”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”

Sam sighs, but doesn’t bother to stop Dean. He knows that there’s nothing he can say to change his brother’s mind.

Almost as if on cue, Eva comes in, looking tired and wary.

“Sorry…” she says hesitantly, “I was looking for the kitchen.” 

“I can show you–” Sam says, standing.

“Sam, wait.” Dean says firmly, hands on his hips. “We need to talk to you, Eva.”

She looks like a deer in the headlights, and Dean feels his protective instinct kick in, though not for her, for his brother. For Jody, for anyone in his orbit that this woman might have it out for. 

“Who are you?” Dean cuts right to the chase, his voice hard. “Really. Who are you really?”

Sam looks down, jaw clenched, but he doesn’t try to stop the interrogation this time. 

Eva looks shell-shocked. “I’ve told you–” 

“You’ve told us some bullshit story that isn’t adding up. So unless you want to figure out the hard way what it really is my brother and I do, you need to start talking.” 

“I told you who I am. I told you my story, and I know it’s insane, but it’s the truth.” Her voice cracks, and Dean feels a small shred of empathy. A tiny part of him wants to back down, but he doesn’t think he can, not now.

“We’ve been doing research–”

“I’ve been researching.” Sam interrupts, muttering. 

Dean glares at him. “Sam did some research, and he can’t find any record of you. It’s like you don’t exist.” 

He expects her face to harden. He expects something – some kind of maniacal, evil laughter. Something to prove that he’s right, that she’s really a demon out to get them. It doesn’t happen. Her face goes blank. Carefully blank. Practiced.

Something clicks in his brain. “It’s not your real name.” 

Just there - a small tick on the left side of her jaw.

Understanding dawns on Sam’s face. “You’re– undercover?” 

“Intelligence.” She says quietly. 

Dean scrubs a hand over his face. “You have to tell us who you really are or we can’t help you.” 

She straightens. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that before?” 

Dean looks at her, mouth falling open in anger. “It’s not 1940 anymore! We can’t help you if we can’t figure out where you’re supposed to be–”

“It’s not happening.” Her voice is firm and sharp. “Do you have any idea what I’ve given up–” She stops herself, arms banded tight around her middle, as though she’s trying to keep herself together. “I have given up everything the last few years, my name being one of the things I threw away when I enlisted. It’s not for you to know.” 

Something in her eyes has Dean reeling. She’s serious, deadly serious. He can only imagine how it felt to be told you couldn’t see anyone, talk to anyone, even use your own name. All for the sake of your life and your country. 

There’s something else Dean feels that he didn’t expect. He wants to know her real name. He wants to know her. 

“You can trust us,” Sam says. 

“You say that, but I don’t know that for sure.” She says, shrugging. “I’m Eva. To you, I’m Eva, and to them–” She gestures broadly, “To my unit, to my friends… I’m Eva Simmons. And Eva Simmons has to find her way back. I’m going to do that without being compromised.” 

Dean shakes his head. “We don’t even know where to begin.”

“I’ll tell you as much as I can remember before I was here.”

Sam shrugs. “That’s a good enough place to start.”

Hours go by. Eva feels like she’s being debriefed. She paces, Dean paces, and Sam takes a turn pacing. Jody pops in and offers to help, but Sam and Dean instead offer to drive her home. 

Eva is relieved that she’ll have some time alone. She can’t make sense of this, and she desperately wants some rest.

She finds the kitchen, and begins to help herself, all the while wondering if she’s doing the right thing. Does it matter anymore? If she tells them who she is, who she really is, will that help? Or will it make everything worse? 

She’s in the middle of an unfinished sci-fi novel, and she has no idea how to get her life back on track. 

Keeping secrets and hiding things has become so ingrained in who she is, she’s not sure she remembers how to be herself anymore. She told herself a long time ago that it didn’t matter what she lost, as long as she helped win the war.

She doesn’t know how to let people in, not anymore. 

1942

She does her best not to fidget in her uncomfortable chair in front of the Director, but it’s no use. Her left hand tightens around her right hand in her lap, idly spinning the ring on her right hand around and around. 

The man in front of her hasn’t said a word, not even when she was introduced. He had gestured wordlessly for her to sit down as he read through her file, and that was nearly five minutes ago. 

“Why did you enlist?” He asks, blunt. He doesn’t use her name, he doesn’t use her rank, he doesn’t do anything except stare at her, face blank.

She’s prepared for this. “My brother was at Pearl Harbor.” 

Again, his face gives nothing away. “Dead?” 

“Wounded, sir. I wanted to do my bit.”

He stares at her again, not breaking his gaze even a little. “Are you married?” 

She feels herself flush. “No, sir.”

He closes her file with an audible snap, “Good.” He says. He leans forward on his elbows. “You’re certainly qualified.”

“Sir–” She stops herself, unsure. “I beg your pardon, but qualified for what?” 

“What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. You can’t tell anyone, not even your parents, not your best friend, not a boyfriend.”

She wants to scowl, but she doesn’t. “Understood, sir.” 

“The United States is launching a special operation that will specialize in intelligence, espionage, and code breaking. You were recommended to me after you enlisted and took your aptitude tests. We’re looking for someone with experience in languages, and high scores in math and science. But we also need someone who can keep cool under pressure.” 

She doesn’t know what to say, so she stays silent. 

“Your work here would be invaluable to the war effort. Anything you do here could have far-reaching consequences, for us, and for the enemy.” 

“I accept.” She says quickly. In the end, there was no choice. She would do what she could to help.

“This would mean you’re giving up life as you know it.” He says, leaning forward again to make his point. “You’ll get a series of aliases to use in case of trouble, and you’re going to have to lie to everyone you know about what you’re working on. And if it comes to it, there’s a chance you’ll be sent overseas.” 

“I’m ready.” She says, her words ringing clear and true in the quiet room. 

.

Present Day

Eva looks exhausted. She’s cross legged in the chair across from Dean, rifling through a set of record books they dug up from the archive. 

She’s in a pair of borrowed sweats and a t-shirt, and for a minute, he can almost pretend that she’s a normal girl that they met working on any other case. But it’s almost June 6th, and Dean’s not an idiot. 

Nothing happens randomly. He’s learned that the hard way. There’s a reason Eva Simmons is here, days before the anniversary of D-Day. 

“Tell me again,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What you were doing the day you– left.” 

She sighs. 

“I know–” He sits forward, elbows on his knees. “I just… there’s got to be something we’re missing.” 

“I dropped with the Pathfinders. My objective was to make contact with a member of the French Resistance. I landed fine, alone. I don’t remember anything–” She stops. 

“What?” Dean leans forward. “What?” 

“I ran into some trouble on my way. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but I– I was trying to stick to the woods and only move around at night. I was almost made, and I ran. I fell.” 

Dean makes a face. “And?” 

“I hit my head, I think.” 

Dean sits up, rifling through the book in front of him. “Any chance you remember where you were? Any landmarks…”

Her eyes light up. “A church. I was supposed to meet my contact at this church–”

Dean shoves the book under her nose. He’s pointing to a grainy photo of a church and steeple. The roof looks nearly blown off, and there’s rubble surrounding the grounds. 

“This place was a key resistance hideout during the early days of the war, before America even joined the fight,” he says, shifting so he’s facing her. “The nuns hid people and helped downed airmen. They were bombed right around the time you may have been there.”

Something flashes through her mind, a memory of a distant rumble, and then an explosion. A bright light.

“Jesus Christ.” 

“What?” Dean is leaning forward, eyes focused on her. “Did you remember something?” 

“I know where I was.” 

They stay up all night. Sam finally skids into the room in sock-clad feet, a book that looks like it’s a hundred years old. “I have something.” 

“Wait–” Dean says, holding up his hand. He wants Eva to continue, wants her to get that look on her face that he’s beginning to recognize means she’s putting puzzle pieces together in her mind. 

“Let me see.” She demands, thrusting her hand towards Sam. He comes closer, handing her the book, the pages yellowed and spine soft with age. “That’s it.” She breathes. “Look.” 

She turns the pages towards Dean. There, a description in French, and one in English underneath. “These churches. They’re sister parishes.” She reads aloud the name of the church in French, her accent impeccable. “This one here, it’s in Virginia. Isn’t that near where you found me?” 

Dean feels the breath whoosh out of him when he recognizes the smaller, less clear photo of a church steeple through the trees. It’s not far from where they had parked the Impala the night they found Eva.

Sam frowns. “So…. what? It’s a wormhole or something?” 

She lets out a hysterical laugh. “Or something.” She stands, raking her fingers through her hair. “It’s the best we’ve got, though.”

“We’ll go in the morning.” Sam says, “We don’t have much time.”

The day is spent preparing - Dean has no idea what they’re in for, and yet again, he feels the weight of the world on their shoulders. Why is it always them? He feels a calling to help people, but he wishes sometimes that the burden wasn’t always on him and his brother. 

He’s tired.

“Want some company?” Eva asks from the doorway, and Dean jumps, startled. “Sorry - I’ve gotten used to moving around without making much noise.”

Dean smiles. “I guess you have.” He waves her closer. “Come here for a second, let me show you this stuff.” 

He surprises himself by telling her what he feels he can about hunting. He’s not sure if telling her any of this is going to change things in the present day, but at this point he’s too tired to care. 

Hell, she might not even survive the war, he thinks, and the thought makes his blood feel cold in his veins. He watches her as she runs her fingers over the various weapons - mostly the guns are what catch her attention - and feels a pang deep in his chest at the thought that in a few days they’ll never see her again. 

Not like this, anyway. He shakes the thought away, feeling foolish and sentimental. “Can you tell me anything about what you do? Why’d you enlist?” 

She pauses, meeting his gaze quickly before she takes one of his pistols from the case and begins the familiar motions of stripping it and cleaning it. “My brother was at Pearl Harbor.”

Dean frowns, but doesn’t interrupt. He watches her hands work with careful, precise motions. 

“He was pretty badly wounded, and I was… I was so furious. I wanted to do something to help. Truthfully… I wanted revenge.” She meets his eyes, and though he expected to see regret in her face, it’s not there. Her eyes are clear.

“I went to every women’s recruitment event I could get to in a day’s train ride. Nursing was out of the question - I’d only end up making it worse–” She says, her nose scrunching up when Dean laughs. “I had half a mind to join the Red Cross and become a Clubmobile girl.” 

When he shakes his head, she explains.

“A lot of them are attached to the field hospitals and air bases. They’re going to do a lot of good work - it’s not just coffee and donuts, no matter what men back home say.” She looks up, meeting his gaze once more. “I just don’t have the temperament for it… I was– am– too angry.” 

“That sounds like a normal reaction.” Dean muses. 

He’s fascinated by the way she’s going about her work with the gun, her hands sure and steady as they move over the pieces and clean each one thoroughly. He pictures her a few years younger and wonders if it always came so easily. 

“I was recruited, basically. I still hadn’t found a unit and I was telling someone at a party about it. Two days later, I got a letter telling me to show up to this building in Washington DC – no name, no office name, just an address.”

“The spooks.” Dean jokes.

She laughs. “Yes. Apparently the guy I talked to at the party was actually some junior agent with the OSS–” she stops, “do you still have that?”

Dean shrugs. “Not sure.”

“Well – it was a completely new, secret organization. Focused on espionage and intelligence. I was athletic, spoke French and German, and could do math. That’s really all it took. Whatever else I didn’t know, they taught me.”

“And you ended up in Europe.”

Dean can’t really fathom what she’s telling him. He can’t imagine setting off to do something so monumental at her age. He pauses, wondering if he’s going to get smacked for it. 

“How old are you? I’m not– I just wonder, how old were you when you–”

She grins. “Relax. I’m twenty-seven.”

He whistles. “I– I just can’t believe you had the guts, really.” He stops, watches as she looks at him questioningly. “I’m sorry I was so… I’m used to people lying to me.” He doesn’t quite know why he’s telling her this, but something about her makes him trust her. He feels like he can tell her things he hasn’t told anyone in a long time.

“In your defense, it must seem insane. It still seems that way, to me.” She finishes her task, and hands him his pistol. “For your inspection.” Her voice is light, teasing.

Dean takes it, their hands brushing lightly. “Looks good to me, Private.” His voice is nearly a croak, the quiet moment feeling too soft, too intimate.

“That’s Lieutenant to you, Winchester.” 

Dean’s eyebrows rise, a surprised laugh escaping him. “No shit?”

Eva chuckles. “My college degree had some perks, after all.”

Dean grins.

[wuggy101]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request some platonic headcanons for the Bnha teachers (Aizawa, Present Mic and All Might/Toshinori) ??? sepparetly if it's possible. Maybe they found another girl alongside of Eri, a 13 y/o girl who has very bad trust issues and never talks to anyone due to her trauma and instead prefers to point out at things she wants. But they are very patient with her and let her be by their side because she is scared of being away from them.

Maybe them reacting to the reader looking at them in the middle of one of their clases and hesitantly lifting up her hand just to tell them "thank you"

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting this! I am so sorry, its been a couple days since you asked this but I have finally gotten the courage to try and write this. I really hope this is good. I'm going to try my best!

Aizawa

Today had marked the 30th day you had been rescued from Overhaul, you had been counting. After the black haired man had saved you, you had sort of become attached to him. You had felt the most safe with him, as he was the first person to protect you in a long time.

You never spoke, you hated your voice. Overhaul had always said that your voice was the only reason you were never wanted around. Aizawa had always tried to get you to talk, but you never did.

Today you realized that it was your birthday. You remembered that Aizawa had said something to Present Mic about throwing something special at lunch. You looked at the clock, it said 11:45.

15 minutes in till lunch, you felt something in your heart has you thought about how Aizawa has gone out of his way to remember that it was your birthday. A sign of kindness you haven't been shown in a while.

As you were thinking, 15 minutes had gone by. The lunch bell rang loudly through the halls. As the students quickly sat up amd waked out of class room.

You waked up to Aizawa's desk. Aizawa look up as he heard footsteps approach him. As he saw you, he grabbed a chair from one of the desk's nearby.

As he sat the chair down, you sat down. He then said that he had something for you. He opened one of the drawers in his desk, and pulled a box in wrapping paper out.

Once he closed the drawer, he handed you the box. Once in your hands, he asked you to open it. After opening the box you looked inside to see a small note pade, and a cool looking pen.

As you were looking at the note pad and pen, you heard Aizawa say that this was a gift so you could communicate better with everyone. Without even realizing it, you felt cold tears falling down you face. You slowly look up to him, a small smile on your face.

You slowly tried to say something but your voice cracked. So you tried again, and you said it. "Thank you".

Aizawa eyes widened as he heard you say it. You had said something. Aizawa replied with

"Your welcome"

A/n #2: I just got writing this one ⬆, and I believe this is the most i've ever written.

A/n #3: I just reread your ask, and I hope your ok with me using a little bit of a different idea then yours!

⬆ 12/23/2022 ⬆

⬇ 12/25/2022 ⬇

A/n: Today I have decided to finish this here, but one day I might continue this. But for now i'm going so stop. I feel horrible doing this, but I just don't think I can finish this. I'm so sorry :(

Also Happy Holidays!

[skye707]

How would the Riddlers be giving a presentation to people for something?

(I'm definitely not dying of anxiety for next week)

Oh, is it PowerPoint night? I love these.

Unburied - He’s got this. Never had stage fright, so he just gets up there, does his thing, and knocks socks off. Gives a bow at the end and waits for applause. If he doesn’t get any, he tells the audience to go fuck themselves and leaves.

Presenting Rating All of Your Outfits

ZY - He has so many unnecessary charts and graphs, and the only reason they are there is to make you feel stupid. I’ve listened to plenty of presentations where this was the case, and there is nothing worse. Literally mic drops at the end of his presentation.

Presenting Quantifiably Sexiest Scientists From the 20th Century

Dano - Mask? Frothing at the mouth trying to get his point across and going on so many tangents. No mask? Little bitty mouse man who no one can hear speak. ZY shouts from the couch that he can’t hear him and to “talk louder”. Classic douchey audience behavior.

Presenting How to Incite Mass Hysteria Without Going to Prison

YJ - Also a little fidgety in the presentation, but at least he’s speaking loudly. Too loud? He was once told that he needed to project his voice, so now he does that to the max. Everything he says sOUNDS LIKE THIS.

Presenting My Favorite Toys From the 90s and Why

Gotham - Excellent little presenter. He’s got a laser pointer, a clicker, his suit is pressed. Do not ask him a question mid-presentation. Questions must be held until the end.

Presenting Forensics: The History of Murder

BTAA - Really old cringey transitions. It’s hilarious to listen to his animated speeches especially when the topic is shit like “Why Robots Are Not to Be Trusted”. If you listen to his presentation, you better be able to keep a straight face, because if he hears a single giggle, he’s coming for your ass in the crowd.

Presenting Why Robots Are Not to Be Trusted (Including Riddlerbots)

Arkham - It’s like listening to that one insane teacher give a lecture. Goes off on so many tangents that the initial topic doesn’t even matter anymore. Now, he’s telling you about the time he got away from a mugging with a Roman candle.

Presenting Destroying the Legacy of Thomas Edison in 30 Slides

BTAS - The most professional presenter to ever live. I imagine he gave presentations for video games on the reg, so this is just another day at the office for him. Only problem is his presentation is a little boring. Too many numbers.

Presenting Budget and Overall Success of Pac-Man

Telltale - This presentation feels like a debriefing before deployment on a life or death mission. This topic is that serious to him, so you better give it the same respect.

Presenting The History of the Blade: Ancient Warfare in the Modern World

(Good luck to everyone out there getting ready for finals. My heart and soul goes out to you, troopers)

[nutzgunray-lvt]

Hot Seat

It's finally here! I had the plot more or less outlined from the beginning, but writer's block hit me in regards to the ending. I wasn't sure if I wanted Aizawa to realize how much of an asshole he had been up to that point or double down on it, so I decided to leave it open for the most part. I wrote this fic because the scene this was inspired from (the 4th light novel where the teachers have a get together after the School Festival) really pissed me off. They knew damn well that Izuku had trust issues in regards to going to his teachers for help... and did nothing. Only All Might cared, and everyone else just brushed it off.

The School Festival went off without a hitch, but Toshinori wasn't happy.

After enduring two villain attacks less than three months apart, UA's students got to be just that again: students. The school buzzed with an intense energy that seemingly invigorated everyone present, and the first years in particular presented one amazing event after another, but Toshinori wasn't happy.

It didn't make any sense. He should have been happy. School was closed today, as well as the next, letting everyone have a much deserved break. Everyone had a blast visiting the various kiosks, games, and shows. He was slowly but surely getting used to a life of retirement, and he had gotten his teaching license.

So why wasn't he happy?

After everything had been taken down and the students were sent off to bed, Toshinori had been cajoled into staying up with the rest of the teachers for a sort of after-party (as if they hadn't done enough celebrating during the festival). He wasn't in a particularly celebratory mood, but he didn't really have the energy to fight Present Mic's incessant tugging on his arm as he tried heading upstairs to his room.

"It won't be any fun without you!" the younger blonde had pleaded.

As the other teachers made drinks and broke off into small groups, Thirteen seemed to notice his less than cheerful mood. She pulled him into a corner with two non-alcoholic beers to regale him with stories of the latest nature documentary that had just been released. It had actually worked for a while - he and the young Hero both loved nature and she was good company in general, but Toshinori couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Out of the corner of eye, he could see Aizawa peering over at him in between sips of his own beer.

It made him feel unexpectedly angry. God, just what did he do this time?

Since starting at UA, Toshinori had quickly learned that the young Underground Hero had some sort of bone to pick with him. Efforts to make things right (what had he done wrong?) had proven to be less than fruitful, so Toshinori gave up and decided to settle on a peaceful co-existence with him. After all, it wasn't the first time he hadn't gotten along with a fellow Hero, and it wouldn't be the last. Seeing as how the man had to be blackout drunk to say anything remotely kind to him, Toshinori knew he had to pick his battles.

But that seemed to not be working out anymore.

Now, Present Mic was looking concernedly over at him as well, and he wasn't being subtle about it either. Thirteen had been gushing about a section of the documentary centered around the Eastern Siberian Mountains, and Toshinori tried to be as engaged as much as he could (she had a hellish recovery from the USJ attack, so she sure as hell deserved that much), but the feeling of two additional pairs of eyes on him was making his skin crawl, and he hadn't even touched his drink -

"Yo, All Might!" Present Mic called out from across the common room. "Why are you so quiet all of a sudden? What's with the bad mood?"

That had gotten Cementoss's attention as well. "Is everything alright?" he asked with genuine concern. The gesture was nice, but now everyone was looking over at him.

Great.

"Sorry," he mumbled, running a hand over his worn face. God, he should have just gone to bed. They could deal with one night of him staying out of the party. Now, he had ruined everything -

"Our colleague is dispirited over the incident concerning Midoriya of 1-A," Ectoplasm explained patiently.

As everyone nodded and murmured to one another about this development, Toshinori let the memories of this afternoon wash over him: how Young Midoriya's phone kept going to voicemail, how the older man had been so overcome with worry that something bad had happened to him that he spent a good fifteen minutes in the staff bathroom, barely holding back a panic attack. He had known the green haired boy for a little over a year and half, and he had already held a very special place in the retired teacher's heart. It's why it hurt him when Ectoplasm had told him about the boy's fight with Gentle Criminal and La Brava. He had bested them and got away with little to no injuries, but why didn't his successor tell him what was going on? He wouldn't have been in any trouble. Ectoplasm and Hound Dog were out patrolling for a reason, and they would have taken over without hesitation. They wouldn't have faulted him for deferring to his teachers - Hound Dog told him that.

Why did Young Midoriya never tell anyone anything?

Did he not trust him?

What was he doing wrong as a mentor?

"He's always doing this, shouldering these burdens by himself. It's like he's incapable of reaching out for help…" Toshinori muttered, sighing heavily.

"Hey, are you seriously getting drunk off of this non-alcoholic stuff?" Midnight teased as she took his drink and double checked the label, admittedly looking more troubled than her comment let on.

The older man pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. "This is serious, Midnight," he said as patiently as he could. "First Hosu, then Kamino Ward, and now this? Clearly this is a recurring issue with Young Midoriya, no matter how many times we get onto him about it. I'm terrified that this will get him killed."

Aizawa's expression was grave as he shook his head and muttered, "Yeah, and that sounds just like a certain hero we all know, doesn't it?"

And that did it for Toshinori.

He tried to stay calm, he really did. He could hear Nana's steady voice telling him, "Count to ten. Get control of your temper." But something about Aizawa's remark had made him so angry that it overtook the remaining rationality he had been operating on. He had initially been planning on removing himself from the situation entirely and sleeping it off, but protective rage and unresolved tension between the two put the retired hero on the offensive.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped, trying to calm his shaking hands as he shot to his feet.

The common room was deathly quiet now, the tension so heavy it could be cut with a plastic knife. Knowing that the raven haired man would undoubtedly want to have the last word, he preemptively shot a hand up to stop it. "Actually, don't answer that question. I have something that I've been meaning to say for quite a while now."

He began pacing back and forth, trying to count to ten as Nana had always told him to do when his emotions began getting the better of him. As much as Aizawa had infuriated him in the moment (and since the first of school, if he were being honest), the rest of his colleagues didn't deserve to see him lose his temper on them.

"Aizawa, I know that you'll probably never get along with me, and that's something I've grown to realize and accept. But whatever negative feelings you have towards me have nothing to do with Young Midoriya!"

The other teachers looked amongst each other in varying degrees of surprise and uncomfortableness before staring at Aizawa, who for his part, looked unflappable.

"What are you getting at, All Might?"

"We both know what I'm talking about, so don't play ignorant," All Might responded. "You've had a bias against him since the first day of school, placing him last in your Quirk Assessment Test and threatening to expel him in front of his classmates over his -"

"I was trying to be realistic," Aizawa interrupted, setting his beer down. "He can't keep hurting himself every time -"

"What exactly are you doing to remedy that?" Toshinori asked, his voice getting louder. "All I've seen you tell Young Midoriya is for him to figure it out himself! For that matter, that's all you tell the rest of his classmates as well! Young Kaminari risks brain damage every time he misuses his Quirk, and Young Aoyama -"

"They've had their Quirks for well over ten years, Yagi," Aizawa impatiently said, getting to his feet. "If they don't have control over their Quirks by now, why are they even here?"

Midnight raised a placating hand, her eyes darting between the two men.

"You have a point, Yagi," she interjected. "But so does Shota. The kids should have been regularly seeing a Quirk Counselor starting in elementary school. Surely it should have helped."

The retired hero closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He had wanted to keep One For All and Young Midoriya's past Quirklessness a secret for a reason. Not only was it not his place to go around telling everyone, but it had been for his own protection - especially with the League of Villains and All For One actively targeting the school. But as the saying went: the road to hell was paved with good intentions. In his efforts to protect his successor, it seems to have only caused other ultimately unnecessary problems for him in the long run.

Would there ever be a moment where he wasn't failing his boy?

"I understand where you're coming from, Midnight," he slowly started, not exactly sure where to get where he was going with this. "but Quirk Counseling isn't infallible. And as for Young Midoriya… he didn't get his Quirk until last February."

Silence. Dead, heavy silence.

Out of the corner of his eye, understanding dawned on his colleagues' faces as they exchanged unreadable looks amongst each other. A part of him felt vindicated when he saw Aizawa's brow wrinkle in confusion, but that opened yet another can of worms that he was too angry to keep closed.

One problem at a time. Potentially letting them know the truth behind One For All could come later. Right now, he needed to know why Young Midoriya's homeroom teacher looked so uncomprehending of this revelation of his.

"His Quirk manifested late for his own protection. Had he not had the physical conditioning and muscle mass he has now, it would have killed him. It was in his file that he got his Quirk Status changed the week before the school year started," Toshinori said slowly, disbelief slowly overtaking the anger previously coloring his voice. Surely the younger man at least read his students' files before school had started? Right? Surely, he wouldn't be that negligent. "Did you not read it? Did you not read any of their files?"

The silence that followed his question said it all.

Hound Dog was glaring at the man, crushing his empty beer can in his hand, and even Present Mic shot his best friend a soft, "Seriously, Sho? What the hell?"

"Prejudices exist," Aizawa said, trying to justify himself. "History can be misleading. I'd rather get to know my students as they are now than have my judgment clouded by someone's opinions on them from elementary and middle school."

It took everything in Toshinori to not hit his head against the wall over and over again (it was right there, just another two or so steps). In theory, Aizawa was right on the nose. People changed, especially children. It's why their end of term report cards included comments from the teachers; it was the best way to document these changes. For that matter, teachers could be biased, prejudiced even. The myriad of cases of teachers falsifying student records due to Quirk related discrimination said as much.

But how could Aizawa, a man who prided himself for his logical decision making, be so perceptive yet so obtuse?

"I understand that, Aizawa, and you're right to a degree," The older man conceded. At least the sheer disbelief was calming him down before he well and truly lost his temper. "But have you considered that as well intentioned as that line of thinking may be, it's led you to form prejudices of your own?"

He had clearly hit a sore spot, given how Aizawa glared at him.

"They're not prejudices," he ground out through gritted teeth. "They're rational observations -"

"You saw a child struggling with a strength enhancement Quirk, automatically equated it with me, and proceeded to mistreat him over it. You wax poetry over how biased society is towards powerful, flashy Quirks, yet you completely neglect to help the students you have that are negatively affected by that belief. You also saw another child with a flashy and powerful Quirk, yet you turned a blind eye to his horrible behavior due to his 'hard work'. If that's not prejudiced, then I'm the Pope."

At the mention of the blonde, red eyed boy, Cementoss fished out a value sized Aspirin bottle, popping one in his mouth before handing the bottle off to Ectoplasm. Despite having been expelled back in September, the mention of Young Bakugou was still a headache trigger for his colleagues.

"He was a hard worker…" Aizawa doubled down, seemingly realizing how hollow the reasoning sounded.

"Hard work doesn't justify bullying!" Hound Dog growled, stalking towards the younger man. "As a homeroom teacher, it's your responsibility to make sure your students have a healthy environment to grow in!"

As the counselor dissolved into a mess of growling and barking peppered with "Aizawa" and "emotional negligence", Vlad King guided him outside to help him calm down. As the door to the courtyard was quietly shut, everyone's attention turned back to the man currently in the hot seat.

"I'll admit to my own shortcomings as a mentor," Toshinori said to get things back on track, "because when it came to Young Midoriya and Young Bakugou, I was unable to see the forest for the trees. I also thought that their relationship was a long-standing rivalry that needed to be worked through, but I should have stopped and asked myself this a long time ago: does a rivalry involve such one-sided animosity?"

"That's why I paired them against you for the final exams. It was so they could learn to work together -"

"Again, the final exams showed that this lack of cooperation was a one sided problem, Aizawa." Toshinori bluntly interrupted. "May I remind you that Young Bakugou not only assaulted Young Midoriya for attempting to follow the directions of the exam, but he told me point blank that he would rather fail outright than cooperate with Young Midoriya? In what way does that indicate an issue on both ends?"

Aizawa bit on the inside of his cheek, crossing his arms defensively.

"That's not even counting the Battle Trials, which is also my mistake. Young Bakugou was attacking with lethal force, and the only thing he said to me when I warned him to stop was: 'he won't die if he dodges.' He knew he could have killed Young Midoriya, but he didn't care."

"Damn," Snipe muttered from next to Cementoss, shaking his head.

"As I said before, I'm also not blameless when it comes to this. I should have stopped the match right there and lobbied for a stronger punishment. But do you remember what you said after seeing the recording? 'Grow up already. Stop wasting your talent.' You said this in response to him knowingly nearly killing another student -"

"You've made your point, Yagi!" Aizawa warned, his voice raised as he glared up at the older man.

"And their fight the night of the Provisional License Exam," Toshinori continued, his own voice growing louder. "Footage from the Camera-Bots showed Young Midoriya attempting to leave and deescalate the situation, only to be stopped by Young Bakugou, and yet you decided that Young Midoriya was equally at fault for what happened. In light of all of this, let me ask you this: do you hate Young Midoriya?"

He thought that Aizawa was going to go to the grave before giving an answer, given how he gripped his bicep and glared at him. but to his surprise, the Underground Hero shook his head.

"No. I don't hate him."

Present Mic scoffed, shaking his head in what seemed to be disappointment as he stared up at his friend.

"Well, that's what it looks like, Sho," he said with a grave look on his face. "Do you ever think about how you sound when you talk to him, or how it comes across when you talk about him to us?"

The Underground Hero couldn't quite hide the betrayal he felt, but it was mitigated by the guilt and knowing shame he was fighting not to express. It seemed like he wasn't used to Present Mic going against him in matters like this.

"The rest of us," the English teacher motioned to the other teachers, "really enjoy having Midoriya in class. He's kind, cooperative, and incredibly smart." His point was punctuated by Midnight, Cementoss, and Ectoplasm nodding in agreement. "You, on the other hand… you're constantly calling him 'Problem Child' and you don't acknowledge him unless you're threatening to expel him, punishing him, or otherwise criticizing him for something. Come to think of it, I've only heard you say one positive thing about the kid. One, and it wasn't even about him alone. Can you really blame people for thinking that you hate him?"

Aizawa slowly shook his head, sinking back into his chair with an uncharacteristically troubled look on his face.

"I just don't want him to get himself killed with his recklessness," he said more so to himself as he stared at his lap.

"There are way better ways of showing it instead of acting offended by his very existence," Midnight piped up, looking thoroughly unimpressed with his answer. "You can't treat people like this and expect them to completely trust and rely on you. Why else do you think he keeps going behind your back and getting into dangerous situations? For that matter, why else do you think your students are terrified to come to you for any questions they have on their assignments or anything else school related?"

Frustration clouded the younger man's face as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Trust and respect is a two-way street," Ectoplasm said. "Midoriya has been making wonderful progress in regards to his Quirk control, but that effort rarely goes acknowledged."

"We understand the hardships you've endured as a Hero," Cementoss added. "But you shouldn't take your negative feelings out on your students. They've done nothing to deserve that behavior from you."

"Your expulsion record speaks for itself," Snipe said, having been silent up to this point. "If it were just a handful of kids, we wouldn't think anything of it. because some of them just aren't cut out for heroics. But over 100 students? Something's clearly not adding up, and it's not the kids."

Aizawa opened his mouth, then closed it. For someone who always needed to have the last word, it was a little disorienting for Toshinori to see him at a loss for words. Though he still looked unflappable for the most part, the way his eyes moved showed that his colleagues' words clearly hit home for him. But whether or not he took these words to heart was something that was left up in the air.

After all, Aizawa was an incredibly stubborn man.

[edutainer2022]

I may... be slightly embarrassed by this story, but definitely NOT sorry. I had lots of fun writing. The FlashFiction "PORTAL" prompt @janetm74 brought up (https://www.tumblr.com/flashfictionfridayofficial/727887160802410496/stories-are-the-door-to-whole-new-worlds?source=share) was too good to pass up. I typically don't do OCs. I am nearly dialogue-impared and attempts at humor are admittedly not stellar. But hey... we all have that pet sandbox of headcanons about "Next Generation Thunderbirds" or "What if Timetravel", right? I was thoroughly entertained to play in mine with this piece. Hope, you're all somewhat amuzed reading too.

TIMEY-WIMEY

The young man and woman reached for the sidearms in unison, barely stepping through a hissing door, before freezing in wide-eyed wonder. About the same hight, blond, hazel eyes that belied an unmistakable resemblance of fraternal twins, they moved as one. Scott was faster, however, stepping to shield the rest of his brothers, hands thrown up, palms open in a universal gesture of "We mean no harm!" Before he could say a word, however, the young man had already holstered a gun - a glossy futuristic model they never saw GDF carry - and tutted them all to keep quiet. The woman next to him tapped her ear, activating a mic:

- Listen up, everyone! We have a situation! Butterfly effect. Repeat, possible butterfly effect.

They were obviously in some kind of crew quarters or an officer lounge - sleek, clean lines, but comfortable seats in different areas. The space was lived in too - the holo photos on the walls displayed young men and women laughing, hugging, leaning against unfamiliar sleek aircrafts. Some groups contained the pair present - both in civilian clothes and in uniform none of the Tracies could place. It would be fascinating to ponder, except they were supposed to be in a different lounge altogether. In fact, they were - a minute ago. On their own island, going through a mission debrief that was headed into a pleasant family evening all together, even John, once they wrapped up and changed out of uniform. There were no palm trees or the sky outside the huge port windows now. As far as the eye could see the view displayed only the infinite dark and the stars. They were in space.

Virgil and Alan were gawking, stunned by that realization. John was scanning the room for some clues or a comm. Their own comm units were, conspicuously, dead. Scott was still processing the fact that he was effectively shut up by a stranger with a gun. Gordon turned his attention back at the holo pictures on the wall for some suitable intel. Following his eyes movement, the woman by the door tapped a quick command on the wrist and the holos turned off simultaneously.

- Sorry about that. Mandatory Paradox protocol - the fewer details you know the better. 

Five pairs of eyes were trained on her. John found his voice first:

- Paradox protocol?

The blond man shrugged noncommittaly in a manner unnervingly familiar:

- The butterfly effect. You know, Bradbury? How in time travel you can't interact with stuff or it'll change the timeline? Sometimes the Delta-drive gets the timey-wimey all confused and it creates a temporary paradox. Like a portal.

- But no worries! - his, sister (apparently), chimed in, clearly amused. - Our Brain Trust will sort it out and get you out of here in no time. See what I did here?

They shared a Look, sniggered, and high fived.

Of all the details and questions, snowballing around, Alan, for some reason, latched onto the term:

- The Delta-drive? Like the T-drive?

The blond siblings shared a confused look again, before the man answered:

-Yeah, kinda. But at some point B... they ran out of Latin alphabet.

At that moment Scott's indignation and thinly veiled worry breached containment and, fists clenched, he almost screamed:

- Where is HERE?! Who are you?! How did we get here?!!!

Virgil switched his own imploding anxiety from the twinkling unfamiliar stars to a more immediate target and placed a calming hand on his big brother's shoulder.

The young woman rolled her eyes in a manner that too, was unnervingly recognizable, if hard to place:

- In reverse order: 1) We don't know how you got here, but, hopefully, will figure it out soon. You can't stay long. 2) You can't have too much information on who we are, but if it helps - I'm Sally, this is Grant, my twin brother and the bane of my existence (Grant made a point to give her a Look with a dramatic flourish); 3) "Here" is in Oort Cloud, strictly speaking. Welcome to the Lighthouse.

The collective audible gasp was swallowed by another door hissing, at the opposite wall. A group of four walked in - all young, an age bracket indistinguishable from that of the Tracy brothers. Two guys  and two girls. All looking rather disheveled and yawning, eyes bleary from lack of sleep. One of the girls had a screwdriver holding up a messy bun of black hair. A tattatered flannel shirt was wrapped around her waist -  more oil stains and burn marks, than fabric. There were grease stains on her forearm too, over an elaborate wreathe of flowers and wings, tattooed there. The guy walking next to her, dark haired and broad, sported a similar state of attire, except his flannel shirt was on. There was soot smeared on his forehead and cheek, covered in overnight shadow. The taller young man in the party was poking at holograms of some specs on the go, paying little attention to his surroundings. Dark auburn hair was curling every which way, one lock falling on the forhead to his obvious annoyance. He was clad in a cardigan that would have promoted Brains to the fashion icon of the Nerd community. That made three of them looking in disarray. The fourth young woman was rather prim and put together, if pale, looking around stiffly. The gaze of green eyes landed on the Tracy brothers, still standing back to back in the middle of the room, and she froze.

The rest of the newcomers effectively bumped into her, shifting attention to the present party. More audible gasps passed around, from the hosts this time.

Scott took the opportunity to take the initiative again:

- Hi, I'm Scott Tracy, these are my brothers. We're International Rescue...

The flannel clad big guy heaved a sigh, but smiled warmly:

- We know who you are. How? - his question was directed at the blond duo, still guarding the other exit.

- We were kinda hoping you guys will shed some light on that. Timey-wimey is your area.

It was the tall guy's cue to huff in exasperation, a slight accent hard to place:

- For the thousand's time! It's not timey-wimey, it's quantum physics!

- You say tomAIto... - his blond counterpart was grinning sunnily. All Tracies had a distinct feeling they had already witnessed this conversation on multiple occasions.

- Technically, it was the eight hundred seventy fifth time.

All eyes were on the girl speaking, but she just smoothed a non existent wrinkle on a crisp pant leg and clasped her hands awkwardly. John's eyes widened. Gordon's squinted.

- Anyhow... - the bigger man coughed discretely, to switch the conversation back on track. - Nice to meet you! I'm Kip. (Virgil yelped from an unexpected elbow in the ribs from Gordon). Tweedledum and Tweedledee there yonder probably told you we can't volunteer too much information. This is my little sister Kyra (he gestured to the girl with a screwdriver, currently in a hushed conversation with the auburn nerd), that's Lee over there and... Dawn.

The visible stumble in introductions had John squint too, then hitch a breath.

- The Delta-drive is offline after the last... mission. - That was Lee speaking again, surrounded by even more holograms, Dawn at his side sifting through data streams with uncanny speed. - We spent the night cycle rewiring and reconnecting everything manually (that was supported by enthusiastic groans from Kip and Kyra, now busy distributing generous cups of coffee around). - So whatever caused the Paradox is, likely, on their side.

That shifted all gazes in the room back to the Tracies again. In the spotlight, they looked utterly baffled.

Clearly a self-appointed morale officer - Grant supplied a consolation:

- Could be worse, right?

Kip pinched his nose, in a familiar attempt to stave off a headache after an all-nighter with busted equipment:

- Speaking of things getting worse... Where's our Intrepid Leader?

The question was directed at the Twins. It was Sally's turn to shrug:

- We were on perimeter patrol when Phoenix One left. Skye is off planetside for a Joint Chiefs meeting with the World President. The... last mission report and debriefing.

There was a snort from the general direction of the coffee table:

- I'd sell tickets to THAT show. Do we have GDF on standby? International Rescue notified for the possible fallout? Do we even still HAVE a World President?

Another mechanical hiss of the doors was an answer to that. The Twins shifted to attention imperceptibly, as a young woman in black space grade uniform strode in with urgency and determination. Lithe, runway model tall and as beautiful, blue eyes intense and dark in fluorescent light, assessing the scene in fraction of seconds, dark curls sleeked back in a bun.

- As you were.

The next words were directed at Kip and Kyra, still beaming in astonishment:

- I'll let you know that yes, we, in fact, still have a World President. I may not be on speaking terms with the man, but I draw a line at patricide.

Blue eyes glanced over the Tracies, but pointedly didn't linger, directing the unvoiced question at, obviously, the science team of the group - Lee and Dawn. They shifted several holograms her way immediately. There was something harsh about the young commanding officer, a shadow of pain etched in every feature.

Kip gulped down a mouthful of hot coffee:

- I was thinking more along the lines of a heart attack or a stroke. But good to know. Why are you back so soon? Didn't you have a report to deliver?

- I did. I delivered the report, encrypted, for President's eyes only. Then I left.

Grant and Sally whistled in unison as they, apparently, did many things in life:

- Sooooo... how long till the cavalry arrives? And all the king's Thund...

An elbow to the ribs put a halt to Grant's babbling, just as Gordon sported a cartoonish light bulb expression - jaw dropping and all. The confused gargle at the back of his throat was, however, muffled by John's palm over his mouth. Scott stood uncharacteristically still, thunderstruck.

Kyra broke the precarious moment with a splash of another helping of coffee (third since they arrived) into the mug:

- No need to worry. We're all due at the Met tonight for Lucy's recital anyway. We're gonna get the full dressing down there. That's including Gramps. We're gonna get such an earful from... everyone - we might not hear her sing.

In that moment Lee punched the air and released what could only be described as a war cry:

- That's it! The recital! That's what triggered the Paradox!

The Tracies were mostly reduced to speechless perplexity by that point, but Virgil couldn't let that one go, brows furrowing:

- How can music trigger time travel?

Lee rolled his eyes again in a gesture that had Alan inch closer to the light bulb moment too. Kip took it upon himself to be the pillar of patience (maybe not for the first time in present company) and explained:

- Music doesn't trigger time travel. Space-time context does. You're all here. And you're all due to be present at one of my sister's recital at the Metropolitan Opera tonight. It's a memorial concert, the World President will be in attendance. Well, not the you you, but the other you. The today you. Does it make sense?

A cacophony of "no"s in all Tracy voices filled the room. Gordon chimed in, voicing general confusion:

- Why would we ALL attend with the President? And how many sisters do you have?

- As... International Rescue you're guests of honor and four. Val is a lead neurosurgeon at Tracy Memorial, Casey is currently Deputy Chief of Communications at the World President Office, Kyra here, is, obviously, an engineer of the Lighthouse, and the eldest one, Lucy, is a world class opera singer, mezzo soprano. Does that answer your question?

Gordon squinted again, not willing to let the bone go:

- Why are you attending then? You guests of honor too?

Kyra stepped forth, pointing at the mourning tattoo on her arm:

- It's a memorial recital for one of our own. We lost...Commander Skye's brother in an... experimental equipment test. A Cognitive drive malfunction. It is his birthday.

The Commander in question landed her scrutiny, finally, from the holograms and formulas back on the Tracies, deep in thought. Then to Lee again:

- This doesn't add up. There are all five of them pulled in by the Paradox. Only four would be present tonight.

This time the Tracies erupted in a more than worried "why"s.

Dawn, mostly quiet heretofore and engrossed in the datastream, spoke up:

- This may explain it. A dispatch from orbital patrol is just in: USS ZXL CJT made a Delta-drive jump back into the solar system.

Gasps of surprise were summarized by Skye's hoarse wisper:

- What happened? They were not due back another three years! Not after what happened to J... (under her breath). Can you rise the Captain?

- Negative. Not from this range.

Lee clicked his fingers and pumped the air again:

- That's our trigger! We'll have to jump the Lighthouse from Oort Cloud back to Earth now, to investigate. That's how the Paradox would assemble!

Alan snapped his head from one person talking to the other and finally burst out a question:

- What's ZXL CJT?

Dawn paused, seemingly, choosing words. Skye, suddenly grim and somber, gave her a slight nod to proceed:

- A Zero-XL class deep space recon and rescue vehicle "Colonel Jeff Tracy". Captain on board - Alan Sheppard Tracy.

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 16 - Came Back Wrong

Thank you @lethxia for helping inspire this!

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 847

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The doctors called it a miracle, but after 31 years of performing these so-called miracles , Shouta knew they were no step above fiction. 

And yet, there Oboro was, sitting in a hospital bed. 

If the DNA match hadn’t confirmed it, Shouta would’ve believed it was an entirely different man. 

When they did the Nomu reversal procedure for the first time, on some kid with a wing quirk, the doctors had to remove his entire quirk factor. Oboro’s situation ended up being sort of the opposite. 

Kurogiri had been some mass of black matter, not quite solid or gas, but present enough to be tied down by quirk suppressants. 

Oboro’s hair, now, is that same black misty color where it used to be stark white. His eyes shine yellow in the light and a strange TV static surrounds him at all times, like he could phase out of existence at any moment. 

The rest of him is generally the same, though he’s grown since Shouta had last seen him. No longer the lanky, energetic 15-year-old, now a solemn old man, who had been held prisoner in some hell limbo between life and death by the world’s most powerful supervillain. 

”Oboro?” Mic asks quietly, startling both of the other men. 

Oboro’s hair stiffens, like a cat raising its hackles, before softening when he catches sight of them. 

“Hey fellas, do you have any news?”

But that’s one thing the years of torment hadn’t changed, he was still selflessly devoted to helping others.

Hizashi shoots him a glance, sighing, “Yeah, we found the documents you mentioned.” He pulls said files out of his book bag and places them on the bed at Oboro’s feet. “They’re not-“

“I know what I’m getting into. I spent years looking after him, remember?” Oboro picks up the Manila envelope, the image of one Tenko Shimura stapled to the front. Big red letters marking him as Missing Deceased. 

”You’re sure this is him?” Mic presses, picking at the skin on his thumb. Shouta nudges him, silently telling him to relax. 

Oboro looks up at them, flipping the folder around and pointing at the image of Tenko as he might have looked aged up. The young man in the photo looks much healthier, with fuller cheeks and bright eyes, but he unmistakably resembles one Shigaraki Tomura. 

“I was All For One’s right-hand pet, I saw the kid when he first took him in, and it was Tenko.” He turns the folder back around, looking at the picture with sad eyes, “I wasn’t able to help him when he was young, still impressionable, but he’s only twenty now,” Oboro looks up at Shouta, “I know there’s a chance we can help him. Him and the rest of them.”

Mic huffs, “The bastard almost killed Shouta.”

Oboro’s eyes flit over the rest of the page, scanning details about the investigation and presumed homicide. Testimonies of family and friends claimed Tenko was a shy, kind boy; Nothing like the psychopath he was molded into.

His eyes pause on the line that gave Shouta doubts about this entire thing. 

Tenko had been born quirkless. 

“All For One forced a quirk on him that his body and mind couldn’t control.” Oboro reminds him, “He was picked up off the street after losing his entire family. The first person to show him kindness, a warm bed. Of course he was under his spell from the beginning. He was a child, Hizashi.” Oboro’s gaze is ice cold as he stares the hero down, “Mentally, he’s still a child.”

“I didn’t sleep when I was Kurogiri, and often I would hear him wake up screaming, crying for his mother or sister.” Oboro squeezes his eyes closed, shutting the folder and setting it back down on the shitty hospital blanket, “He was severely traumatized, and groomed to be a weapon, a tool for a supervillain.”

Mic has the sense to look guilty, scuffing his boot on the floor, “You’re right, Oboro. I know. It’s just… hard to forget.”

Oboro’s eyes soften, looking between Shouta and Mic, “I know I missed a lot, but I want you to trust me. I’m on your side against All For One, but Tenko, Dabi, Toga, Jin…” He shakes his head, “They deserve a chance.”

As much as Shouta hates to admit it, he’d had a hunch from the start. The first time he’d seen Toga she’d been so young, learning she was barely older than his own current class was as heartbreaking as it was right. 

And Dabi… Touya Todoroki. The shit he must have gone through as a child if Shouto’s habits are any indication. 

Fuck. 

“I agree with Oboro.” Shouta nods, “It’ll be rough, but they deserve our energy. Jin will be the hardest to make a case for, but I think we can do it. If I’m in, so is Tsukauchi.”

Shouta looks into the eyes of his oldest friend, a man he wished every day for over a decade could’ve had a second chance at life, and he makes a promise. 

”We’re gonna help them.”

[kywaslost]

I want to request for same the last onewhen reader feel in need for someone to remind them that they're doing great can still get better as they like

I love compliments and get praised when i do something that i belive i

If you could put these things in fic following the last one storyline it would be great, thank you !

Platonic Hawks x Teen Reader With Autism Pt. 2

A/N: Hello again! Thank you for sending in another request! I hope this is what you were looking for. I’m sorry I didn’t write it any sooner. I’ve been struggling mentally this week and have been working through some friend issues. I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the other one! <3

    You had been training with Hawks for a little over 4 months now, and you’ve enjoyed every second of it. You had grown to trust Keigo, and it mainly came from the fact that he let you be you, and never pressured you to do anything you didn’t want to. Of course, he encouraged you to do things outside of your comfort zone, but he’d never make you do them.

    It was Keigo’s main goal, as he’s stated before, to help you. He didn’t treat you like other adults who claimed they were ‘fixing’ you, or that you were ‘broken’ and needed to be fixed. Hawks wanted to help you become a better hero, to help you do things you thought you couldn’t do. He knew you had a distaste for older humans, but some day you’re bound to have to interact with one while doing hero work. So he encouraged you to start small and talk with the adults you’d see every day.

    “I really don’t understand why I missed this many points on my essay,” you said quietly one evening, doing homework in the lobby of Hawks’ agency. It was one of the private lobbies, only for heroes and their interns and work studies students. The bird man was sitting across from you, working away on his computer.

    He looked up and said, “Were there no comments written?”

    You shrugged a bit. “I mean, there are a few, but they don’t make any sense.”

    Hawks sighed slightly. He knew what he was going to say, and he already knew what your response was going to be. “You could ask Present Mic. I’m sure he’d be happy to explain it to you.”

    You immediately began shaking your head, your hair falling over your eyes in the process. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t do that.”

    “Hey,” Keigo scowlded lightly. “What did I tell you.”

    You stopped shaking your head, reaching into your bag to pull out your comfort item and hugging it closely to your chest. “Don’t say can’t.”

    “Mhm,” he smiled. “You can talk to him. Eventually.”

    “Eventually,” you agreed. “But not now. I don’t trust him.”

    “And that’s alright. You take your time, bridie.”

    Conversations like this happened at least once every week. Just small pick-me-ups, words of encouragement and pride. Hawks was proud of how much you’ve grown in the short time he’s known you. You can talk to him a lot easier now, and you aren’t afraid to talk about your latest hyper-fixations. He was so incredibly proud of you. 

    “You know, Y/N,” he started one evening, flying with you above the city. “I haven’t said this recently, but I want you to know that I am so incredibly proud of you.”

    Tears welled up in your eyes at his kind words. “Thank you, Hawks. That means a lot.”

    “I know how hard certain things are for you,” he continued. “But I’ve noticed how you’ve become more comfortable with certain people. Like Eraserhead and myself.” He stopped flying middair, hovering. You stopped a second later, then turned back to him, listening to his kind words. Keigo flew over to you and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I am so proud of you. You’re taking things at your own pace, and I can see that.”

    You suddenly pulled him into a tight hug, your tears falling onto his coat. “I couldn’t do it without your help.” you sniffled as you pulled away. “Thanks for encouraging me to become a better hero.”

    He ruffled your hair slightly. “Of course, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for.”

[i-eat-deodorant]

Hello!! I am your biggest fan (you know who I am). Can you tell us about your warlords au? 🔫🥺 Plzz (it's a gun shaped mic)

I KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND I'M SHAKING YOU BY THE NECK

GOD it's kinda of difficult to talk about warlords au because whereas my other au (crying wolf) is art-centric, in contrast warlords au is writing-centric and i haven't written any of it.

Gods are not born, but made: through battle and bloodshed, death and destruction, subterfuge and succession. Like a mortal hungers for food and water, they feed on devotion and worship. To live is to be remembered. To die is to be forgotten. Before the Lamb, before The One Who Waits, before the prophecy that brought the Old Faith to its knees, the lands were overrun with gods large and small, each vying for their claim to divinity. Shamura has been waging a centuries-long war against Manat, vulture-queen of the mountains, and both their forces were wearing thin. New enemies surround them--multiple small crown uprisings, a slippery network of parasitic inheritors in the deep oceans, rumors of a firecracker champion of the no man's lands giving a voice for the war-torn. Every god fended for themselves. To form an alliance is almost unheard of; those that tried were quickly betrayed and disposed of, their corpses a cautionary tale of those naïve enough to trust. But the auspices had never been wrong before, and Shamura foresaw a road to victory inlaid in red, yellow, blue, and green. [One becomes two becomes three becomes four becomes five.] And so it goes.

it's a precanon au, well before canon, that details the rise of the Old Faith in an era where the land was fractured by constantly warring deities. something i've noticed is that the fandom trends towards the bishops being more akin to a traditional family (aka shamura adopts everyone as babies) whereas i see their "sibling" status as a more political one, so i wanted to present a precanon au where they all met as adults and forged a family through political alliances.

inspiration is taken from the three kingdoms period and other eras with fractured rulers. i want to explore how power figures control and consolidate influence at the expense of their followers. shamura restricts education to the upper echelons of their priests, who are trained in the sciences but also heavily dosed with religious propaganda. kallamar sends out periodical plagues what only he has the cure to, forcing all of his followers to swear allegiance to him or die a painful death. heket controls the food supply with an iron fist, creating a central capital with abundant food wealth and choking out all the smaller settlements that either could not or would not move to areas under her reign. they are unabashed colonizers, and their gold is devotion.

I JUST REALISED I'VE BEEN RAMBLING ABOUT INSPIRATION WITHOUT GOING INTO THE ACTUAL PLOT uhhh uhhh uhhh how to explain without spoiler??? how to explain without spoiler???????