#pro: crying about blanche more

[heartofstanding]

hate my brain is like "haha what if i buy this book of german essays so i can painstakingly photograph the article about Blanche of England and run it through google translate so i can cry over a shitty AI translation about bb Blanche in my spare time"?

[ediesfm]

anya taylor joy.     she/her.     cis woman.      ›spotted   at   the   met   steps   ,   edie   holloway   ,   most   likely   listening   to   tammy   faye   by   nicole     dollanganger   with   their   airpods   pro   .   the   twenty   four     year     old   gained   quite   a   reputation   ,   known   to   be   -vacuous   yet   +protean   to   anyone   who   knows   them   .   you’ll   easily   spot   them   when   you   hear   about   puppy   dog   eyes   and   crocodile     tears   in   a   child   -   like   bid   for   attention   ;   double,   triple,   quadruple   texting   ;   practicing   your   expression   in   the   mirror   for     the   long   awaited   day   when   somebody,   anybody   tells   you   you’re   the   love   of   their   life   ;   a   carefully   crafted   visage   based   on  pinterest  boards  and  instagram  saves  ,   followed   by   miss   dior   by   dior   .   latest   nepoupdates   article   talks   about   how   she   was   seen   having   a very   public   breakup   ;   crying   ,   groveling   , and   committing   mild   vandalism   outside     the   home   of   a   man   she   was   seeing  ,   but   i   guess   any   reputation   is   good   reputation   .  

stats

full name: edith jane holloway

nickname: edie

age: twenty-four

birthdate: march 06

zodiac: pisces

gender/pronouns: cis woman, she/her

sexuality: bisexual but tends to date more men

faceclaim: anya taylor joy

family

father: lou holloway, acclaimed director

mother: sienna belmont, actress and heiress

sibling(s): fletcher “fletch” holloway ( older half brother, artist ) . sylvie holloway-wilder ( older half-sister,  academic ) , teodora holloway ( half-sister, child )

notable relatives: roman holloway ( paternal grandfather, actor, and producer ) talia rivers-holloway ( paternal grandmother, theater and silent film actress ) . alexander fauvel ( maternal grandfather, composer ) , various uncles, aunts, cousins in the industry

pet(s): bijou ( persian cat )

aesthetics

puppy dog eyes and crocodile tears in a child-like bid for attention; double, triple, quadruple texting ; practicing your expression in the mirror for the long-awaited day when somebody, anybody tells you you’re the love of their life; a carefully crafted visage based on pinterest  boards and instagram saves ; desperate texts after too much wine ; second place medals and the feeling of disappointment swelling ; a pink vape pen covered in vintage lisa frank stickers ; tear-stained love letters ; heart-shaped sunglasses in every color

parallels

cassie howard ( euphoria ) , blanche dubois ( a streetcar named desire ) , molly gunn ( uptown girls ) , penny lane ( almost famous ) , pearl ( x and pearl ) , danni sanders ( not okay ) , lydia bennet ( pride and prejudice ) , mabel longhetti ( a woman under the influence ) , trixie tang ( fairly odd parents ) , early 2000s paris hilton but like…less terrible versions of a lot of them lol

tldr;

imagine the neediest, try-hard, insecure girl you can but hide her behind a vivacious, ostentatious façade and you have edie. spent her formative years watching romance movies and idolizing the idea of being loved and belonging somewhere. painfully sycophantic; always wearing masks, trying to work her way into your heart. an insecure mess; the human embodiment of trixie tang’s “tell me i’m pretty!!!”. rich girl probzzz bc her parents are rich/famous but did nawt give her any love. used to coming in second place and being ignored so she’s total mess of a person but super sweet…unless you reject or slight her, then she’s all unhinged drama. embarrasses herself on the reg. <3

background

—  born to a hollywood dynasty family like the coppolas or the barrymores. they’re very well connected. grandpa holloway was a famous actor turned executive during the silent era in the 20s. he married a film star and had edie’s dad in the 40s. yes, edie’s dad is old. more on that later. edie’s mother’s side is also noteworthy, as she’s the daughter of a famous composer.

— edie was an accidental pregnancy. she doesn’t just suspect this, she knows it. since her mom has multiple interviews expressing how she never thought she’d be a mother. or wanted to be one, for that matter. ( she’s always applauded for her “bravery” and “honesty” regarding motherhood and regret while edie is just like uhh…wtf ) edie’s dad is an acclaimed director. he’s one of those ones where if you don’t like their movie, annoying film bros claim you just didn’t “get” it. i think of a david lynch or charlie kaufman type. he and edie’s mom met while filming a show. he was 52 ( with two other adult children from previous relationships ) and she was 44. needless to say, they weren’t exactly expecting to get pregnant.

—  neither of edie’s parents were super involved in her life. they were always busy ; traveling, press junkets, the oscars, film festivals, vacations…edie spent a lot of the time being cared for by nannies. a cliché rich girl tale if you’ve ever heard one. as many celebs do, her parents went through a contentious divorce due to an affair scandal. during the ensuing paparazzi storm, edie realized the cameras gave her the attention her parents didn’t. so while her mom pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt and shoved her sunglasses down to avoid being seen, little edie would stop to show off for the cameras.

—  seeking out attention was a constant in young edie’s life. her parents never engaged with her or made her feel wanted at all so she became the type of child who would seek out attention and cling to whoever gave it to her. she was a needy girl and had a pathological desire to fit in. when one of the “cool girls” in school got a new pixie haircut, edie took a pair of safety scissors to her own hair that very same day in the girl’s bathroom. she desperately wanted to be liked which, ironically, made her quite disliked. she was the one kid who, if the teacher gave someone else a compliment, she’d be like “what about me? is mine good too? am i doing a good job too?” just generally a tad annoying.

— edie actually wasn’t particularly popular until she got older, when money and status determined who the “in crowd” was. people knew she was hollywood royalty so they treated her as such. but even so, she couldn’t secure prom queen. or get her crush to choose her. or land the lead in the school play. she was always runner up to someone else, never quite good enough. including at home, among her successful family.

— she was obsessed with the idea of love. she garnered a reputation in high school for being a girl who’d do whatever with a guy. she experienced a traumatic situation involving guys from her high school as a result. and after that she developed an affinity for toxic ass relationships and putting herself in shitty situations.

—  she never went to college after graduating. obviously she doesn’t need the money. and she’s never had a talent or passion. her biggest accomplishment is her instagram follower count. she loves social media. she’s a compulsive oversharer and definitely goes on instagram live in the bathtub with a glass of wine. besides that she’s in the tabloids for being a magnent for drama. recently broke up with a guy and was seen literally causing a public disturbance after he kicked her out of his house. a neighbor filmed her reaction and put it on tik tok where it went viral. rejection and abandonment are, like, her biggest fears. and she was very intoxicated oops

personality

social butterfly. huge social fucking butterfly. flits around from one person to the next.

v e r y agreeable, easily influenced and impressionable. eager to please underneath it all. the one thing being a people-pleaser means is that edie never became a rich bitch. she wants to be loved so much that she’s very sycophantic

seems like she has main character syndrome but make no mistake, she is a total wannabe. has 3498398929 saved instagram posts bc she keeps trendy outfit ideas and aesthetics she can copy on hand. relentlessly follows trends. craves validation above all else.

romanticizes at epic proportions. falls in love with one-night stands.

she tries really hard to make you love her but if shit goes south, she can actually be catty, petty & dramatic af. she doesn’t care about being messy.

doesn’t come across as the smartest per se but is actually quite intelligent in other ways. she’s perceptive. edie can actually be a bit scheming and manipulative. she’s good at reading people, adapting herself. she could probs be successful in numerous fields. unfortunately, her only end goal is being loved tbh. it’s not very #girlboss of her i know.

as a kid her parents just…didn’t like her much. so she tried to be The Very Best Daughter™ so they’d love her. and when that didn’t work, she settled for any sort of attention, negative or positive. edie kinda operates like that even now. she’s always performing. wearing masks for people and trying to charm and joke and bribe her way into their hearts. and then if they reject her, she’s reverted back to childhood edie throwing a tantrum ; breaking china, crying, pulling the plush from stuffed animals.

hcs

she has a huge age gap between all of her siblings. her eldest siblings are 50 and 41 respectively. it’s because her dad’s so old. and then his geriatric ass got his new wife pregnant so she has a toddler little sister. which pissed edie OFF bc why was her dad bemoaning about having her at 50 and not wanting more kids but at 78 (!!!!) he’s super excited and involved with his new toddler, teo, bragging abt her and fatherhood in interviews and late-night appearances. anyways it makes edie think there is something fundamentally unlovable about her.

she’s a huge astrology girl. will ask you your sign. she also has a psychic that she goes to as often as some girls go to the nail salon.

has an oral fixation so she always has something in her mouth…gum, candy, little drinks. she vapes too. def started bc the other kids were doing it and she wanted to be on trend. she smokes cigarettes at parties for the aesthetic and thinks it makes her look cool.

was actually very lonely as a kid and watched a lot of movies because, well, her dad is a director and had a massive film collection. so if she acts like a film ingénue, it’s completely intentional. she used to watch romance movies and mimic the female lead ; their affect, their mannerisms, the things they did that made the male lead love them so much. and then she’d emulate it. like in the mirror alone. it was a bit…concerning lol. but yeah ! she looooves movies and the idea of a happily ever after.

huge partier. microdoses lsd and shrooms. keeps pills in a heart-shaped locket. drinks a lot but gets these, like, bright blue drink concoctions that she drinks using those novelty bendy straws to seem ~fun~ and ~kitschy~ instead of, like, an alcoholic.

wanted

coming soon. will be located ( here )

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Cowgirl and The Engineer

Chapter 5

Bucky Barnes x reader, college au

Warnings: Swearing, angst

The next few days were tense. The paper ran Jennifer's article and everyone on campus was talking about it. Jennifer heard from more girls who had been subjected to that fraternity's bad behavior. She was shocked at how many girls were coming forward.

Unfortunately it also meant that Y/N, Jennifer, Crystal, Peter and Scott were getting more threatening texts. Y/N even received a letter with the pics they had of her and a promise that she would be ruined. Her name had been kept out of the article but Brock and Jack went on the attack knowing that she was involved.

One morning Y/N was walking to class and saw flyers with some pictures all over the place, littering the campus. Like a propaganda dump in a war zone. When she picked one up to look she blanched. The pictures were her, with Jack and true to Brock's word her face was clear as day but Jack's was too shadowed to see who he was.

She felt her knees weaken and she almost fell but someone caught her. It was Bucky

"Y/N I've been looking for you. Are you ok? Can I help?" He asked

Y/N sighed "I'm pretty sure I'm beyond help at this point."

Bucky gave her a strange look "Were you going back to your place? I can walk you there, to make sure no one bugs you."

She straightened herself up and looked away "I'm fine Bucky. I don't need any help from you" she retorted.

Bucky sighed "Ok. I just wanted to tell you I'm really sorry. About everything. I was with Sharon since junior high and she used to be really sweet. She didn't used to be like this. I don't know what happened-"

She interrupted him "It's fine. You've assuaged your guilt. You can go now."

"Y/N that's not what this is-" Bucky tried to explain.

She interrupted again "I don't care what this is. You saw how she treated me on more than one occasion and never said a word. I don't want anything from you except to be left alone." and she walked away, head held high. Bucky watching sadly after her.

When she made it inside her apartment she collapsed and felt like she couldn't breathe. She sat on the floor with her knees bent to her chin and her arms around her calves, sobbing until Nat and Wanda came in and found her.

The apartment had gone dark as the day waned but Y/N hadn't noticed.

She didn't notice when her roommates came in or when they started talking to her.

Wanda sat on the floor in front of her and gently touched her arms trying to talk her down and regulate her breathing. When she finally came out of her distressed state she looked at Wanda in front of her and whispered "Did you see them? All over campus. I don't know if I can keep going. This just keeps getting bigger. I just want to go" and she started crying again.

Wanda held her and tried to soothe her. "We are almost there, it's going to be worse for a bit but it will get better. If Nat and I have to escort you to classes to keep people away from you we will. Don't let those assholes win."

Nat came over to check on them "We contacted that attorney who specializes in Greek House misbehavior. Mostly hazing but they said this falls into their wheelhouse and will help pro bono.

Are you ok, Y/N? We were going to have a meeting with the attorney this evening but if you aren't up to it we can reschedule"

Y/N wiped her face and went to stand with some help from Wanda. "No. I want this done. I'll be fine. The thing I feared most happened so I don't have to fear it any more. Where?"

Nat looked at her with a small smile "We offered to have it here since everyone else lives in the dorms so we have a little more space. We brought some soda, tea and snacks to munch on. Let's just get the living and dining areas straightened up before anyone gets here. We also brought Italian so we can eat some real food first."

They cleaned up and vacuumed quickly so they could eat. People started showing up as they were cleaning up dinner.

Scott, Peter, Jennifer, Crystal and a few people Jennifer had spoken to since the article came out. Steve and Sam were there as well for support and in case any troublemakers tried to crash.

Jeff, the attorney, was very kind and patient, listening to and recording everyone's story to help create his case file.

At the end of it all he said they had a good case and even the pictures that had been released would implicate the fraternity. Even though Jack's face was blurred out therr were other telltale items in the photos, including their Greek symbol on the bedroom wall. They really weren't as clever as they thought. That arrogance would be their downfall.

Peter gave him Det Fury's card and Jeff promised to be in contact with him in the morning.

It was late but everyone felt they were on the right path to find justice. As they were cleaning up after everyone had left, Y/N walked into Steve and Nat having an intense conversation that stopped as soon as she entered the kitchen.

She tried to joke "Is there something in my teeth"

Steve tries to speak up "I wanted to tell you-"

Nat interrupted him "No, she doesn't need to be worrying about that right now."

Y/N looked straight at Nat. "I love that you want to protect me but I'm a big girl. What's going on?"

Steve looked at Nat who nodded at him "I just wanted you to know that I invited Bucky but he told me about seeing you earlier and didn't feel like he should be here. He feels like shit about everything. He knew Sharon was a bitch but had no idea she would do anything like this. He dumped her before he even found out about all this and that she was fucking Brock. He walkwd away from her that day you saw him at the cafe last time. If you need anything at all from him, I know he would be there for you. He has always kinda liked you but, well, you know. Sharon must have seen him looking at you and he feels partly responsible for her going aggro on you. She's got them making threats against Bucky too because he broke up with her publicly and her status has taken a dip. That's about all she cares about anymore."

Y/N looked confused then schooled her expression "I'm sorry for Bucky's troubles. I'm sure you can understand why I would be hesitant to trust or befriend him right now but he's welcome to join these meetings since he has a case to make as well. I'll be cordial, that's all I can promise right now."

Steve smiled "I know this is all fubar but we have a good team and will get you through it."

"Thank you Steve, that means a lot." She smiled.

They had 3 more meetings and more people came to each one until the last meeting was standing room only with people sitting on the floor, counters and packed in tight.

Y/N wasn't surprised that there were so many victims of those houses but that so many were willing to speak up and go on public record detailing the worst nite of many of their young lives.

Bucky came to the meetings and detailed the threats he had received from Sharon and Brock. So much for her great love for Bucky, he was gorgeous, getting a profitable degree and came from above average means, thats all she cared about.

Sharon had tried to push him into pledging Brock's fraternity and trying out for football their first year but he was more interested in science, sci-fi and fantasy so would much prefer bingeing all 3 LOTR movies with a couple of friends than go to a game or fraternity party.

Bucky also told about how his family was pissed at him after Sharon called crying and told his mom that they broke up because Bucky was cheating on her and had mentioned Y/N as the other woman. His father called yelling at him about throwing away a good woman like Sharon and how she would be good for his career with all the connections her family had. Bucky told his father the truth about everything that happened and his father brushed it off claiming that's just 'Greek Life' and all in good fun, no one important got hurt after all.

Bucky tried to argue with him but it was like talking to a brick wall and he gave up brusquely telling his father he had to go and hanging up.

Bucky's mom called him a few hours later and she believed him but nothing could be done to change his fathers mind. His mom promised she wouldn't allow George to cut his school funding as he had threatened to do.

Y/N was relieved that winter break was coming soon. She had no intention of going home anytime soon. Besides Frostie and her volunteer commitment at the school vet clinic, she had nothing to say to her mom. Luckily her mom wasn't able to cut her funding or Y/N was sure she would. Apparently Brock had called her with some story about being in love with her but catching her with Jack and how Y/N was making up some whole story of lies about the whole mess. Of course her mom believed a douchebag like Brock, she seemed to believe having a penis makes one desirable and worthy of forgiveness for any sins. Y/N wasn't even answering her calls and only perfunctory replies of 'I'm fine, schools fine, too busy to chat' when mom texted her.

Y/N sure as hell wasn't moving back to her hometown when she graduated. Maybe she'd go live near Nat and Wanda in NYC. She had read of stables and ranches upstate or in Connecticut.

She hoped for some peace over the break. Since everything has gotten so crazy she has barely had time to work with Frostie and they were hosting a rodeo for Valentine's day that she was hoping to compete in. She figured the Greek crowd would all be gone home so campus would be quiet. She was right and wrong but mostly in good ways.

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

Pro Heros Comforting an S/O with various chronic illnesses

All Might/ Yagi Toshinori

For being a chronically ill person, you were a big baby about being sick. Well, for you, there was two types of ‘being sick’. One, the usual, was the everyday upkeep of your body, with the usual minimal discomfort of working a machine with missing or loose parts. On the other hand, another type of ‘sick’ would be you hunched over the toilet, or sweating in bed with a trashcan by your face, or sobbing in the shower because of how shit you feel. 

Today was one of those sick sick days. 

You never admitted to anyone when you were having an especially hard day like today, sometimes not even yourself. In between bouts of puking up the small amount of food you should’ve been able to keep down, you’d convince yourself that it was just because it was stale, or that this was a fluke, or even try telling yourself that you were over reacting. 

So when your boyfriend gently asked if you were feeling okay to be home by yourself, you enthusiastically replied, “of course I am! Go ahead and go to work, I’ll be fine!”

So, he did. 

And you were definately not fine. 

Mere moments after he left, you were hovering over the toilet bowl, heaving up bile. You screamed at your body to just stop, to please just give up, but it couldn’t hear you. Instead, it did what it knew how to do best: be sick.

Finally, it was over, and you found refuge pressed up against the cool tile of the bathroom floor. 

You were a mess of sweat, tears, snot, and puke. 

Thinking of that just made even more tears stream out of your puffy eyes. 

Pathetic. 

You shakily turned on the shower. Maybe a cold shower will snap you out of it. Your clothes didn’t matter; they’re just pajamas. So, you crawled into the shower, looking for refuge. 

The ice cold water pelted your blanched flesh mercilessly, providing both relief and shock to your system.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying your best to ignore your cramping abdomen and pay attention to the cool, refreshing liquid rolling down your back. 

In the end, though, you couldn’t focus on either of these things. 

Someone knocked at the bathroom door. By the way the person knocked, light and inquisitive, you knew it had to be him. 

He called out your name.

“Are you okay in there? Something told me to come check on you one more time,” he asked through the door. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He knocked again, a little harder this time. 

Still, you didn’t have the strength to respond. You rested your head onto the shower wall weakly. 

The doorknob wiggled noisily before he was in. 

“Oh, honey...” he murmured as he fully understood the situation. He flushed the toilet and opened the window to let in some fresh air. 

“I’m going to open up the shower now, okay?” 

He carefully pulled back the curtain and turned off the water. His heart panged to see you struggling like this. 

Like him.

He took a moment to cradle your cheek in his palm, cooing your name.

“I’m going to get you some fresh clothes. Don’t try standing up by yourself, okay? I’ll be right back,” he instructed gently. You nodded weakly.

He returned with some fresh pajamas and a towel. You shook your head.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he inquired, stroking your hair. You couldn’t help but begin to cry. It was so humiliating being taken care of. Hell, even needing to be taken care of was degrading. 

You squeaked out tiny words between sobs. He patiently tried his best to understand what had you so upset, but he just couldn’t hear you. 

So, his only chioce was to continue to clean you up. 

Gently, ever so gently, he dried you with the towel as best as he could with your soaked clothes on.

“Pumpkin, I hate to ask you this, but...can I take off these clothes to help you get into new ones? I promise I won’t look.” 

You sobbed pitifully. 

“I...Let me...let me try,” you managed to get out. He nodded.

“I’ll be right outside the door. Knock if you need any help at all,” he assured, kissing you sweetly on the forehead before leaving you alone. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to see you naked; he already had done that. It was just...you didn’t want him to see you like this.

Shakily, you stood up, grabbing the clothes. Your feet stepped out of the tub, only supported on shakey knees.

Knees that gave up on you.

Within an instant, you were collapsed onto the floor. You gasped at the impact, the wind being knocked out of you.

Toshinori was by your side before you could blink. He helped you sit up, asking tenderly if you were in any pain. You shrugged.

He sighed deeply.

“I...I’m so... sorry. You shouldn’t-“ you stammered before he shut you down.

“No. I should. It’s okay for you to need help. I understand. It’s not an inconvenience.”

“...but... your job... your students...”

“They’ll be fine. Right now, let me focus on you,” he asserted. You nodded, allowing him to undress and towel dry you before redressing you.

“Can you stand?” He asked. You thought for a moment before shaking your head. Instantly, the bathroom filled with smoke, and he appeared to you in his much more muscular form in order to carry you.

He being sick himself could never hope to carry you in his skinnier state.

You didn’t care however he looked. It was just that he was there. That he cared.

You were carried bridal style to your bed, and placed down ever so gingerly. Smoke surrounded you once again, cradling you for a moment before dissipating and revealing your boyfriend in his true form.

He leaned against the bed frame, coughing into a tissue.

A pang of guilt hit you, seeing how he’d sacrificed just a tiny bit of himself to keep you comfortable.

You pushed the guilt away, replacing it with warm love.

Instead of apologizing, you murmured a “Thank you.”

Aizawa Shouta

Today was a good day. Your joints weren’t achey, and you felt good enough to even go to the store with your boyfriend. Usually, he’d go by himself, or do a curb side pickup to save time, but you insisted that you wanted to go.

“Sho, please. I’ll be fine,” you assured him.

“I don’t want you to overwork yourself,” he replied skeptically. He knew your fighting spirit coming through when he saw your determined eyes, so he knew his words were of no use. However, he also was deeply worried about the pain that could show up later on that night.

Those were the hardest on Aizawa. He usually wasn’t home at night, so when he’d come into the bedroom and see the bedsheets strewn across the floor and your pain medications sitting idly on your dresser, the cap on sideways, he’d be instantly racked with guilt. He wanted to be there for you. Even if it meant seeing you in pain. He just wanted to be able to do whatever he possibly could to help alleviate things just a little for you.

Today, though, he relented, and you found yourself at the local grocery store. You chose to not bring your cane, opting to try to pretend that you were a perfectly healthy young person.

Bad idea.

About half way through your shopping trip, you could feel the beginnings of a flare up.

“Sho... Could you help me?”

He instantly took on your weight on one arm.

“Do you need to go home?” He asked quietly as to not stir the other customers. You shook your head.

“I’ll get you something. Hold on.”

And like that, he was gone and you were alone in the bread aisle.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead.

Stupid! You should’ve known better!

It wasn’t long before he was back, riding on a mobility scooter. He stood up, gesturing towards it.

You knew it’d help, but...

“What will people think?” You whimpered before you could even think about it.

He scoffed.

“Geez, baby. I hope you realize that other people’s opinions should never trump your own comfort.”

You nodded, still anxious about how it’d look for someone like you to be using something like that.

“But...what if someone actually needs it?” You ask as you guide yourself into the seat.

“You need it. It’s okay,” he reassured plainly.

That night, you had no pain. All your body was filled with was butterflies as Aizawa gently cuddled you to sleep.

Sir Nighteye/Mirai Sasaki

You’ve always been sick. It was a part of your identity that you’d come to terms with. Sure, your life was shaped different than everyone else’s, but you didn’t mind much. 

You brewed yourself some tea, breathing in the fresh steam from the kettle. The warm air made its way past your oxygen tube, warming you from the inside out. Today was going to be a good day. You could tell that much by the light rays of sun filtering past the blinds, and the way you weren’t a coughing mess by now. Usually, you were signaled to remember to take your meds and do your treatments by your own sputtering and coughing, but today, things were going a little different so far. 

Your boyfriend came into the kitchen, stretching a little, causing his bones to crack and pop. He retrieved his black coffee from the pot, lightly and lovingly brushing his hand across your upper arm as he moved. 

You instantly tensed up.

“Don’t do that,” you frowned, glaring at him, “it’s too early in the morning to think about that yet.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence.

“Your quirk. Don’t use it on me.”

He put both hands up, “If you wish for me not to touch you, I won’t.”

“That’s...not what I’m asking for and you know it.”

He allowed himself a tiny smile. He did know that. 

You turned around, moving your attention back to your tea. Mirai stared at you lovingly as he sipped on his drink. 

Two sugar cubes plopped into the tea, honey and lemon being stirred in next. Just how you like it.

Just as you were getting enveloped in the whirlpool you made with your spoon, Mirai broke your train of thought.

“Today’s going to be a good day,” he murmured.

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTW: Jared, Julius, Oilers; dynamic duo

For the prompt: More interactions between Julius and his Emotional Support Albertan

Quiet Stringbean lineys bromance ended too soon. (Still a bromance! Now long-distance.)

“What are the giggle twins giggling about?” Vic asks.

Darryl looks over at Benny and Fitzy, but they’re both shovelling food into their mouths like they’ve never eaten in their entire lives.

“OJ and J Math,” Vic says.

“Those are the least giggly twins I have ever met,” Darryl says.

“Look,” Vic says.

OJ and Math are bent over a phone, poking one another over whatever they’re watching, and — Darryl wouldn’t call it giggling. Snickering, maybe. Laughing at something, not with something. Still, it’s nice to see them act their age for once, instead of acting like grumpy middle aged men before they’re even legal in the States. Still more kids than adults, for all they both seem to want everyone to forget that.

“Let ‘em be,” Darryl says.

“I’m just shocked they actually know how to laugh,” Vic says, and laughs when Darryl elbows him.

*

Jade hates charity night.

That sounds awful. Charity is great. Jade is very pro-charity. Jade is not as pro handling a roster of grumpy men in tuxedos. She’s also not pro the unending headache of the weeks of set-up, the fans who think buying a ticket — for charity! — means they’re owed a player’s undivided attention, or, right now, Julius Halla’s impressive ability to turn sideways and disappear right when she needs him to go on stage.

It doesn’t help the search that the entire roster’s in tuxes, along with a number of the other attendees. Black tie everywhere. In another crowd she’d be able to pin Halla by height, but in this one he’s middle of the pack. No bright blond heads in her view, and she’s got — fuck, six minutes to get him to the stage, mic him up, make sure he remembers what he’s doing, plus his lines. She’s not optimistic about any of it, particularly the lines.

She keeps her eyes peeled with the guys north of six feet. No blond head, a blond head but it’s Morris’ strawberry blond — she stops and fixes his bowtie, which is the most crooked she’s seen, and Morris earnestly thanks her — light brown head, dark brown head, Darryl’s head!

“Have you seen Halla?” Jade asks. Darryl’s not only the one who’s most likely to actually have the answer, he’s also the one who’s most likely to stop and help her look if he doesn’t have the answer. You’re not supposed to have favourites. Jade would probably cry if he got traded.

“Look for Matheson,” Darryl says. “Guarantee you’ll find Halla.”

Jared revises her search. She finds Matheson quickly, leaning up against a wall close to the door like he’s considering escaping, and lo and behold, when she gets there Halla’s leaning beside him, successfully masked from view until you’re close up. She suspects it was on purpose, especially after he blanches when he sees her.

“You,” she says. “Come with me.”

“Jared?” Halla asks.

“Fine,” Matheson sighs, and when Jade marches to the stage they’re both tagging after her. Which she’s fine with, particularly when Matheson translates her directions from English to — still English but apparently more comprehensible to Halla English — they sound pretty much the same to her, but she gets confused looks and Matheson gets nods — and Halla’s only three minutes late to the stage.

“You want to go up too?” Jade asks as Halla steps on.

“No thank you,” Matheson says, in a voice that sounds more like ‘fuck no’, and Jade doesn’t press.

*

“How come we aren’t telepathic?” Fitzy whines.

Ben blinks. “Like X-men?” he asks.

“Like OJ and J Math,” Fitzy says.

“Uh,” Ben says.

“Look at them!” Fitzy says.

Ben looks. They’re just sitting on the bench, not doing anything. 

“Uh,” Ben repeats.

“They’re communicating,” Fitzy whispers. “Look!”

J Math elbows OJ, and OJ snickers. They are communicating.

“They got voted best bromance,” Fitzy pouts. “We’re the best bromance Benny.”

“Thanks?” Ben says.

“So we gotta practice,” Fitzy says. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Mike?” Ben guesses.

Fitzy fist pumps. “On our way, Benny, on our way.”

[vannahfanfics]

Worthy

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Shoto Todoroki, Momo Yaoyorozu

Hey, everyone! I'm happy to present the piece I wrote for the @todorokibigbang! Enjoy some TodoMomo wedding fluff <3 Also, be sure to check out the absolutely stunning art by my partner, @danyartime​! 

Shoto sucked in a deep breath as he straightened his bowtie for the tenth time in the last minute, using his reflection in the mirror to ensure that the wine red accessory hugged the collar of his white button-down shirt snugly. As his hands fell, they automatically itched to smooth down the nonexistent creases in the thick, sleek fabric of his tuxedo jacket. He smoothed his palms down his front anyway, until they met the band of his black dress pants. Just as he began to wonder if he should re-shine his shoes, he realized just exactly where his mind was derailing and smiled sardonically to himself. 

Natsuo told me about the pre-wedding jitters, but I never imagined they would be this bad. 

Of course, Shoto had no compulsions to flee the altar; proposing to his soon-to-be wife was the greatest decision he had ever made. He would happily give her his heart, his world, everything he could offer, and more without sparing a second thought. However, as he stood there fidgeting in front of the floor-length mirror, listening to his groomsmen bicker and laugh in the adjoining room, Shoto would be remiss to admit that he wasn’t nervous. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if he was deserving of all this— friends and family to surround him as he passes into the next chapter of his life and a successful career as a burgeoning pro hero with a sound investment in an agency that he, Izuku, and Katsuki were slowly building from the ground up—all of which he could share with his beloved. After all the trials and tribulations of his young life, it all seemed so… easy. Shoto was far from perfect and had his regrets, so how could this wonderful life just have fallen into his hands?

As he ruminated, he smacked his lips, his mouth going uncomfortably dry, eyebrows furrowed as he sipped at a bottle of water. Shoto had never entertained these thoughts before—not when he graduated, not when he broke out as a professional hero, and not even on his worst days when he couldn’t save anyone—so it was mighty conspicuous that his subconscious chose now of all days to second-guess himself. He scrunched up his face as he tried to will away the anxiety gnawing at his insides. 

Ever since high school, you’ve worked hard to become who you are now. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t enjoy the comforts you slaved for… he told himself, but it rang hollowly in his heavy heart. He drained the water bottle and tossed it in the trash, grimace not leaving his face. His tongue still felt bone-dry and coated with ash. As he paced the small room, rubbing his sweaty palms on his thighs, there was a quiet knock at the door that led to the hallway. 

“Hey, Sho, it’s us!” called Natsuo’s cheerful voice, followed by Fuyumi chirping a greeting. Running a hand through his hair and checking himself in the mirror to make sure he didn’t look too rattled, he hurried to the door and opened it. His elder siblings wore identical smiles as they looked him up and down. 

“You sure clean up nice,” Natsuo grinned as he looped an arm around Shoto’s neck and tugged him down to affectionately ruffle his hair. “Look at you, so big now that you’re getting married, huh? Man, how time flies.”

Shoto grunted as he tugged himself away, indignantly smoothing down his hair. The strands were fine and ordered enough that he didn’t have to bother doing anything, but he didn’t want to meet his bride with flyaways sticking up all over his head. “Natsuo…” 

“Hey, stud, not having any second thoughts, are you?” the white-haired man grinned playfully, nudging him with an elbow. Shoto blinked, floored by his elder brother’s sudden inquiry. 

“What? Of course not!” he answered in bewilderment. Natsuo seemed entertained and had no implications that it was an inappropriate thing to ask. 

“Good, good!” Natsuo chimed. He then glanced at Fuyumi as she began to sniffle. 

“I can’t believe it… Our Shoto is all grown up…” she moaned and dabbed at the tears blooming in the corners of her eyes. “Next thing you know, he’ll be having babies and will slowly move out of our lives…” 

Shoto turned beet red at the mention of having children. It wasn’t out of the question, but it certainly wasn’t on his mind right now, so it unnerved him a little to have it brought up in conversation. He swallowed the nervous nausea in favor of stepping forward to wrap his sister up in a gentle hug. He was taller than her now, so she could nestle right into the crook of his shoulder and cry. 

“Fuyumi, I’m not going anywhere,” he laughed lightly. “You’re still my family. I know life gets busy, but I’m still going to make every effort to see you all.” 

“Really?” Fuyumi gasped as her head snapped up. Shoto tried not to laugh at the black smudges of mascara under her eyes and smiled reassuringly. 

“Of course,” he said before leaning down to kiss the top of her head. The sweet action made Fuyumi start blubbering again, and no amount of dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief prevented the mascara from streaming down her flushed cheeks. Natsuo led her away to the bathroom, trying to suppress his snickers as Fuyumi wailed about “what a good young boy Shoto turned out to be,” and left Shoto in the doorway. 

What a good young boy he turned out to be, her words echoed in the dark of his mind. Though her words should fill him with pride and love, the only thing that rose up within Shoto was the cold emptiness of doubt. He leaned in the doorframe as his breath left him in a heavy sigh, and he stared at the place his siblings had rounded the corner. Fuyumi’s crying face flashed in his mind. 

Why was she crying in the first place? Why would she ever think that I would abandon them? The notion made nervous butterflies flutter in his stomach. Had Shoto perhaps been negligent with his family? Sure, they were the textbook definition of dysfunctional, but after his first semester at U.A., he’d done his best to try to mend their fractured relationship. Had he not done enough? Did Fuyumi really believe that now that he’d found a wife, he’d just make his own little family and forget all about them? 

He scowled as that irritating dryness returned to his mouth, making him run a hand over his lips. His entire family would be attending the ceremony today. He thought that was because they were there to support him, but could it be mere pretense? Or worse, did they all believe that after today they would see less and less of him until routine visits became replaced with excuses? He squirmed in the doorway as a pang of guilt began to prickle at him. 

Before he could dwell on that unsettling thought, someone called his name from down the hall. He looked up to see the looming bulk of his father striding towards him. Shoto involuntarily straightened up, blinking as Enji came to a stop in front of him. 

“Hello, son,” Enji coughed uncomfortably, tugging at the baby-blue tie tucked into his gray suit jacket. Shoto could tell that Enji was trying to hide his nervousness by the way he kept his head held high and the nervous twitches in his face muscles. Even now, after Shoto had grown into a young man, their relationship still had its strains, yet Shoto wasn’t petty enough to deny his father witnessing his marriage, so he’d still invited him. Enji’s eyes raked over him before giving an approving nod. “It suits you,” he said with a vague gesture to his tuxedo. 

“Thanks.” 

Enji shuffled his weight from one large foot to the other, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he struggled to gather his words. “Father, is there something you want to say?” 

“I, uh,” Enji gulped and scratched at his close-cropped auburn hair. “I just wanted… I just wanted to tell you… how proud I am of you, Shoto,” he mumbled, voice dropping with every word. Shoto’s face blanched in shock, causing him to just stare dumbly up at his father. Enji continued to fidget nervously, fumbling through his fatherly dotage. “You’ve, uh… You’ve come a long way. I know that a part of you will never forgive me for what I’ve done, and I know now that the way I treated you was not right. I’m, uh… very grateful that you’re even allowing me to be here to see you get married.” 

“Father, it’s not—” 

“Please let me finish,” Enji blurted, going a little pink in the face. Shoto nodded respectfully, and Enji grumbled under his breath, “How should I say this?” He contemplated anxiously for a moment before continuing, “You’re a fine young man and a fine young hero, a better one than I ever could have dreamed of, and you did that all on your own. Even if I don’t deserve it, it’s an honor to call you my son.” 

Shoto’s throat bobbed as it grew a little tight. 

“Thanks, Father…” 

“I know you’ll go on to do amazing things,” Enji said, seeming to relax as Shoto didn't outright reject his sentiments. He laid a large hand on Shoto’s shoulders. “You’ve made a promising career for yourself because of your hard work in school. Japan couldn’t ask for a finer hero.” Enji held onto his shoulder a second before he coughed uncomfortably and retracted. “I, um… I had better go now. Sorry if I interrupted anything.” It looked like he wanted to embrace Shoto, but he merely offered him a handshake. Shoto shook his hand, still slightly dazed from his father’s emotional speech, and then watched him head towards the entryway. 

Enji paused and looked back at him with knitted eyebrows. 

“Are you… Are you all right, Shoto? You seem tense. You aren’t having any second thoughts, are you?” 

There it is again… Why was everyone asking that? Was that just a thing people asked the groom on their wedding day? Was it really that common for grooms to leave their brides? 

“Of course not, Father. I couldn’t be happier.” 

Enji nodded thoughtfully, staring at him a moment, before uttering a terse, “Good.” Then he was gone, and Shoto was alone again. 

Japan couldn’t ask for a finer hero.

Well, Shoto certainly didn’t feel very fine right now. Shoto had to crawl his way up to the top alongside his classmates. He thought of Fuyumi, of how she’d cried and begged Shoto not to leave them. Maybe he was devoting too much energy to his career. What would the adoring public think if they learned that Shoto was forsaking all the important things in his life to be the best? They’d call him an egotist, for sure. Was that what he was? 

Once again, he thought about how easily everything seemed to be falling into place. Could that be because Shoto was sacrificing other things in the process? Or worse, was this “vision” of his easy life all an illusion? 

What if all of this isn’t as it seems, and I really don’t deserve any of it? 

Just as panic began to pump through his system, he was jolted out of his thoughts by the door to the adjoining room slamming open. He whirled around to see Katsuki stomping into the room, his face nearly as red as the wine red of his boutonniere. The volatile blond was dragging Shoto’s best man in by the collar, clearly to complain about something he didn’t approve of. 

Shoto raised his eyebrows as Katsuki slung a very frightened Izuku to the ground in front of him. 

“K-Kacchan! It’s not that serious!” the green-haired boy whined as he rolled over to sit cross-legged on the floor and pout. Katsuki snorted haughtily and craned up his head, nose upturned so far that he was nearly looking at the ceiling. 

“Idiot! I’ll never understand why this Icy-Hot bastard chose you as his best man! Do you know what this loser just suggested?” Katsuki accused with a sharp point at the sulking Izuku while he rounded on Shoto. Nonplussed, Shoto just shook his head. “‘Hey, why don’t we send Shoto to check and see if the girls are ready’?” Katsuki mocked in a high-pitched, squeaky rendition of Izuku’s voice. “Moron!” Katsuki yelled and leaned down over Izuku, hands on his hips while Izuku blushed and rubbed at the side of his face. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride? A best man would know that!” 

“I just wanted to make sure everything was coming along well,” Izuku explained meekly. “If there was a problem, I wanted to make sure we knew about it and could plan accordingly…” 

“Then send one of the other extras, not the fucking groom!” 

As the two began to bicker back and forth, Shoto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. Honestly, he should have known better than to stick the two in a room together, but their venue didn’t really give them a choice. It was an antiquated millhouse fashioned into a wedding venue; the bridal party dressed in a small suite upstairs from the main floor where the wedding would be held, while the men prepared in a small, two-room shack next door. They’d been charmed by the rustic and quaint nature of the venue, as neither of them wanted a grand affair of their wedding, but Shoto was beginning to wonder if perhaps they should have opted for somewhere with more space and privacy… 

“Enough,” Shoto barked as his frustration reached a boil. Izuku and Katsuki both stopped mid-chatter to look at him with wide eyes. “I appreciate the sentiments, both of you, but I would rather not quibble on my wedding day, thank you.” He sagged a little as the weariness began to take its toll. Arguing was really the least of his problems right now, considering he was shouldering an existential crisis. Izuku and Katsuki both looked at each other before squinting at him suspiciously. 

“Hey, you all right, man?” Katsuki asked. 

“You seem tense, Shoto. Are you okay? You’re not getting second thoughts, are you?” Izuku gasped worriedly. He shot to his feet to grab Shoto by the shoulders. “Please don’t tell me you’re considering calling off the wedding! Don’t worry! Lots of guys get nervous with this kind of commitment! But please, remember that you love—” 

“Izuku,” Shoto interrupted with a weary smile and gently pushed his friend in the chest. “I’m not having second thoughts. Please don’t worry about that.” As Izuku deflated in relief, Shoto wondered if he should tell his friends about his real doubts. After a microsecond of consideration, he decided not to. Katsuki would probably just tell him to man up, and Izuku would go on an entire blabbering speech, and that’s not really what Shoto needed right now. Smiling thinly, Shoto placed his hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “I’m all right, really. There’s just been a lot of planning and preparation today, so I just want things to go well.” 

“Right! Of course! As your best man, that’s my job! I’ll go right now and make sure everything is in order, okay? Don’t you worry, Shoto, I’ll make sure this goes off without a hitch!” 

Before Shoto could insist that it really wasn’t necessary, the green-haired boy had zoomed off, untied dress shoe laces flapping behind him. Shoto looked after him with a small chuckle. Izuku had always been a bit flighty, but he really was an invaluable friend to him, so that’s why he had been the obvious choice for Shoto’s best man. He couldn’t imagine anyone else standing next to him when he greeted his bride at the altar. 

The doubt crept up into his mind with its poisonous whispers. Izuku was a good friend, but did Shoto deserve a friend like that? Had he even come close to repaying all the things that Izuku had done for him? The smile fell from his lips as the cold guilt flushed through him once more. 

“Oi.” 

Shoto looked at Katsuki with unfocused eyes, still half-brooding. Katsuki’s crimson eyes thinned into small slivers as he squinted suspiciously. “Seriously, Icy-Hot, are you okay? You don’t… seem like yourself,” the blond asked slowly. 

Shoto’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Katsuki was as prickly as his wild hair, so to have him so readily show concern and inquire about Shoto’s wellbeing definitely dragged him out of his stupor. Again, Shoto debated whether or not to come clean about the disordered mess that was currently his mind. 

Shoto had never been much of a fibber, but for some reason, the lies rolled so easily off his tongue today. 

“As I told Izuku, I’m fine,” he said smoothly, feigning a grateful smile. “I think all the wedding planning just caught up to me at once, that’s all. I’m sure if I just take a moment to relax and gather my thoughts, I’ll be alright. We still have plenty of time before the main event.” 

Katsuki continued to eye him with his lips parted in a skeptical pout, but instead of prying, he just slowly nodded his head a few times. 

“All right. If you say so. I’m gonna go make sure that loser doesn’t mess anything up,” he decided, brushing past Shoto to walk to the door. He paused on the threshold to toss a blank stare over his shoulder. “Don’t think too much. You’ve always been the type to get too in your head,” he advised before continuing after Izuku. Shoto went to step after him, hand raised, but Katsuki was already gone. His arm flopped back down to his side as he released a shaky breath. 

“Maybe I am thinking too much…” he murmured to himself.

He’d like to convince himself of that, but that little beast inside him just snickered. Are you sure that’s not just another one of your lies? it taunted. He rubbed his neck as that ash-choking feeling returned, his body trembling with a few tight coughs. Izuku and Katsuki both seemed so concerned for him… Did he really deserve that concern? Maybe they weren’t really even concerned about him, but were more worried he’d take off and leave his fiancé a shattered, sobbing mess at the altar. Had Shoto been selfish in his friendships? 

Had he been selfish in his relationship? Everyone kept asking the same question… What if they could see that selfishness and were on edge because they all kept thinking that he couldn’t stick it out, that he was too self-absorbed? Shoto’s breaths began to come in terse, ragged gasps as he spiraled into a self-esteem crash. 

What was wrong with him? Why was he thinking like this? He pawed at his head with a small groan. Nothing made sense; everything was swirling around in his head like a whirlwind. He stumbled out of the doorway and slammed it shut in front of him before collapsing against it. The painted wood was cool against his flushing face. 

Breathe. Breathe, he tried to calm himself, gulping down air.

It burned; his throat felt like it was drying up into a desert. Just as he stumbled into the center of the room, blearily looking for water, there was a soft knock at the door. It rang in his pounding head like a death knell. He clenched his teeth as he struggled to come down to earth instead of rocketing himself into the stratosphere. 

I need… I need to calm down… 

“Shoto?” his mother’s voice timidly called. Her soft-spoken tone sliced through the layer of anxiety clouding his mind, allowing him to descend back to reality. He closed his eyes as he composed himself, steadying his ragged breaths and slowing his heart rate. That’s right… I can’t… I can’t let her know I’m like this. 

After he was confident he was presentable, Shoto crossed the floor in a few quick strides to open the door for her. Rei smiled sweetly up at him before her slate-gray eyes dropped to admire the way the tuxedo accented his muscular form. She ran her small hands down his sleeves before linking her fingers with his and giving them a gentle squeeze. He hoped she didn’t notice that they were trembling. “You look so handsome,” she praised, looking back up at him lovingly. 

“Thank you, Mother,” Shoto smiled. He walked backward into the room, tugging on his mother’s fingers so she would follow, and Rei gently shut the door behind her. She walked to the floor-length mirror to inspect her own look— a baby-blue dress patterned with white flowers tied together with white flats and a baby-blue headband. “You also look lovely,” he added while retrieving another bottle of water from the mini-fridge in the corner. Rei hummed gratefully at his appraisal, watching him guzzle half of the plastic bottle through her reflection. 

“Are you nervous, dear?” she asked abruptly. Shoto flinched in surprise, which made him lurch forward and spill water down his windpipe. He spluttered and coughed, eyes watering at the burning sensation overtaking his throat, while Rei turned around to look at him in concern. As he wiped the stream of water and spit from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, he debated lying to her. However, all notions of that flew out the window when he caught her soft, motherly gaze. “It’s natural, dear,” she reassured as she walked over to him. 

Lie. She doesn’t need to know, chimed that anxious beast. It was tempting; Shoto could feel the excuse forming on his tongue. Except… no words came out. He looked helplessly at her, causing her expression to morph into one of intense concern. Shoto didn’t want to lie. He didn’t want to feel this way— selfish and egotistical and undeserving of his life. 

His life with her. 

“Shoto. Tell me what’s wrong,” she ordered, her voice just firm enough to abolish any remaining ideas of lying to her. 

Shoto exhaled deeply and sagged down onto the small sofa next to the fridge. His mother could read him with scary precision, so there really was no use lying, anyway. She stopped in front of him to weave her slim fingers into his two-toned hair, and he responded by leaning forward to press his forehead into her belly. Rei softly scratched along his scalp in rhythmic, soothing strokes, and though she really hadn’t said anything, even the action alone made Shoto relax just the tiniest bit. 

“What’s bothering you?”

He expected her to ask him if he was having second thoughts, just like the rest of them—but she didn’t. Shoto swallowed thickly before answering in a tiny voice. “I just realized how lucky I am, and I’m not quite sure I’m deserving of it.” 

“What makes you say that, my love?” she questioned. Shoto pushed himself further into her stomach, comforted by her soft, soothing presence. Yet all the while, something nickered in the back of his mind. You abandoned her for years. You don’t deserve her comfort. Sickened by the thought, Shoto pushed himself away, grabbing a throw pillow to bury his face in it instead. He heard Rei softly gasp; then, the couch cushion dipped beside him as she tentatively sat down. He curled around the throw pillow, stomach whirling as all his anxieties came to a boil. 

“Shoto,” she whispered and laid a gentle hand on the small of his back. “Talk to me, Shoto.” 

Even though he had rejected her in favor of the pillow, he found himself falling against her. She held him close as he curled against her side. He was so much bigger than her now, but he still felt like he fit naturally into her petite frame. Slowly, he pried his face away from the pillow to reveal that the fabric had darkened with tears. He looked at her brokenly, the salty droplets rolling down his cheeks. 

“Am I selfish, Mother?” he asked hoarsely, horrifiedly. Surely he must be, if everyone kept asking him if he would turn tail and run. “If I’m selfish, and am turning everyone away, then won’t… won’t I end up pushing her away and breaking her heart?” Just the thought of it broke Shoto’s, shattered it into a million little pieces. The love of his life, his dream, his salvation—the thought of doing that to her made him want to die, and the thought that he was already well on his way there made him want to die right now. 

“Shoto, sweetheart,” Rei breathed and pulled him into a crushing hug. Shoto squeezed his eyes shut and buried himself into her, breathing in her scent of floral perfume and ice water. She kissed the top of his head before resting her cheek against it. “You are not selfish. What on Earth has gotten that into your head?” 

“I just… Everyone keeps asking if I’m having second thoughts. Fuyumi was really upset thinking that I won’t be around anymore, and then Father came to talk to me about how far I’ve come as a hero, and then Izuku and Katsuki were worried about me, and—” he sucked in a breath after everything came tumbling out, trying to sort his disordered thoughts. “I just… Everything seems like it’s falling into place, and I just can’t help but think that it shouldn’t be. That it’s too easy, and because of that, I must be messing up somewhere, right?” As he looked at her, conflicted, Rei smiled reassuringly and brushed a strand of his red-and-white hair out of his face. 

“Shoto, honey, you deserve everything you’re being given. If I can’t convince you of that, though,” she smiled mischievously and gestured at the door with her chin, “maybe she can.” 

A blush exploded up from Shoto’s neck to flush all the way to the crown of his head. He grabbed the pillow and smashed his face into it, flopping across Rei’s lap to smoosh down into the couch for good measure. His mother laughed at his overreaction, barely masking the click of heels over the wood. 

“Shoto?” came the tentative voice. What is she doing here? He thought, heart pounding in his throat. 

“Sorry,” he heard Izuku say meekly. “Shoto was just so out of sorts… I thought the only one who could snap him out of it was her…” 

“Idiot! Didn’t I say it was bad luck?” Katsuki scolded. Shoto heard him huff and the creak of the pressed fabric of his tuxedo as he crossed his arms. “But, Icy-Hot is acting pretty weird today… All right, do your stuff.” 

Shoto just squirmed uncomfortably, listening to the ruffles of the lace and the soft click of heels as the woman he would be meeting at the aisle in another hour or two stopped beside him. 

“Shoto,” Momo said, the laughter evident in her voice. God, he loved her voice. It was like a song, high and sweet. “Honey, what’s the matter?” 

“Can’t look,” he mumbled evasively. “Bad luck.” 

“You don’t have to look at me, then,” she chuckled, reaching down to soothingly run a hand over his back. He found himself arching a little into her touch, calm spreading through his nerves. “Just talk to me, sweetie.” Her white gown ruffled as she kneeled down on the floor beside him. Shoto dug his fingers into the pillow, wondering if there was a way out of this mortifying situation. There wasn’t, and he really didn’t want an out, anyway. She continued to stroke down the length of his spine. “Shoto, honey, you know you’re not selfish, right?” 

The silence told Momo all she needed to know. She exhaled deeply, and he didn’t have to look at her to know she was wearing that sweet, loving smile she always wore when she comforted him. “Let me tell you something. Not for a single second have I felt neglected, nor have I had any inclination that you were sacrificing your personal life for the sake of your career,” she iterated slowly. Shoto squirmed as her reassurance battled with the poisonous beast inside him. 

“Maybe I haven’t done it to you yet, but… What about my friends and family?” 

“Boys?” Momo asked, presumably looking at Katsuki and Izuku. “Have you ever felt like Shoto hasn’t been a good friend?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Izuku blurted. “You’re an amazing friend! I can always count on you to be there when I need it, no matter what we’re doing.” 

“Yeah. If anything, he can shove off, the Icy-Hot bastard.” 

“Kacchan!” 

“What? He’s up our asses all the time!” 

“That’s because we’re partners, Kacchan! We’re gonna open up our own agency, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean he has to show up at my house for some stupid soba party he decided to have without telling anyone!” 

Shoto found his lips curling into a tiny smile into the pillow. It was a shame that bickering was so familiar, and so comforting. Momo giggled sweetly and patted him on the back. 

“See, honey? Your friends certainly don’t think you’re selfish and pushing them away.” 

Although it was a start, Shoto couldn’t help but think of his sobbing sister. 

“But… Fuyumi…” 

“Shoto, that isn’t what Fuyumi meant at all,” Rei chortled and rubbed the back of his head. “Fuyumi just felt like a mother bird watching her chick leave the nest… Women get emotional over things like that. Your sister—and the rest of us, for that matter—all know you love us very much and want to stay an active part of our lives. I’ve enjoyed every minute of watching you grow into a man, and have never felt like you were abandoning me. You’re growing up. That is a reality we must face, and sometimes… It’s a little tough for us, that’s all.” 

“That’s right,” Momo seconded. “See? We all love you, Shoto, so much. Please don’t ever think that you’re selfish, because you’re far from it.” He felt his eyes water as the emotions caused her voice to crack, indicating she was on the border of tears. Though he couldn’t look at her like he wanted to, he groped blindly in the air, searching for her hand. Momo caught it in both of hers to give it a tight squeeze, then pressed a lingering kiss to his knuckles. “Every day I’m thankful that you’ve chosen to love me,” she murmured against his skin, and he felt her tears drip down onto his hand. “My selfless hero.” 

“Momo,” he groaned. When she hummed against his hand, he smiled weakly. “I appreciate you coming to cheer me up, but if you don’t leave now, I’m going to have to commit some wedding taboo.” 

Momo laughed heartily, uttering small “okay’s” between her giggles, and slowly stood up. His fingers skimmed against the soft fabric of her lace skirt, and he found himself extraordinarily tempted to peek; but he didn’t. He knew that it would be a feeling like no other when he saw her walking down the aisle, so he just had to wait a little bit longer. 

“Thank you both for looking out for him,” Momo said to Katsuki and Izuku as she left. “I’ll see you soon!” 

Shoto waited until the clacks of her heels faded before he slowly sat up, rubbing at his tear-sticky face. Rei looked at him with a loving smile. 

“Do you feel better, sweetie?” 

“Mhmm,” he nodded with a sleepy smile. Having an existential crisis sure was exhausting. Still, his nerves soon began to buzz with the anticipation of what was yet to come. “How long until the ceremony?” he asked, looking expectantly at Izuku and Katsuki. 

“About forty-five minutes, but it doesn’t matter, because there’s no way in Hell I’m letting you walk out like that. Get your ass in here!” Katsuki growled as he marched over and snatched him up by the collar. Shoto could only stumble after him as he was dragged into the groomsmens’ room, while Rei and Izuku both looked on laughing. 

Forty-four minutes later, Katsuki had combed his messy hair back to submission and managed to erase almost all evidence of his puffy eyes and teary cheeks.

Now, Shoto stood rocking on his heels in front of the steel altar woven with ivy, wine-red roses, and white dahlias. Momo’s bridesmaids— Ochako, Mina, Tooru, and Tsuyu—were across the altar on the left, while Shoto’s groomsmen—Katsuki, Tenya, Inasa, Kirishima—and his best man Izuku were behind him to his right. Stretching out before him were rows of chairs, each one filled by someone special in his and Momo’s lives. Their families sat in the front row with bated breath. The ceremony was held in the main room while the reception would be held in an adjoining one—and in between them was a winding spiral staircase that Momo would be walking down any moment. 

Shoto straightened up as the pianist began to play. His heterochromatic eyes were fixated on the staircase and his breath stilled in his chest. He caught the flash of her heel first, then the ruffles of her lace skirt as she slowly began to descend from upstairs. Shoto’s mouth gradually fell open as she came down from the heavens like an angel, here to grace his undeserving mortal self with her rapturous love. She was chuckling quietly to her father, who held her arm as he guided her down the steps. Kyoka came down last, carrying the long train of Momo’s dress. 

He had been right to wait. It was a gorgeous sleeveless mermaid gown that hugged her beautiful figure in all the right ways. A swathe of wine red cut the skirt in half and adorned the bodice of her dress in thin, swirling threads that looked like roses. Her soft tresses of black hair were piled above her head before falling down in luscious curls to frame her face. A tiara was tucked into her hair, securing the sheer white veil cascading over her. She held a bouquet of white and red flowers as she slowly walked down the aisle, which had been laden with rose and dahlia petals by the flower girl. Even through the veil, Shoto could see her brimming with joy just by the aura radiating off her. 

When she stopped next to him, giving her father a kiss on the cheek before he left to sit with the rest of the audience, Shoto could only gape in pure awe. He didn’t even register the priest speaking. 

“Honey,” Momo laughed quietly. “You might want to pay attention.” 

“Right,” he said and snapped his mouth shut, blushing as a few of the wedding party snickered and elbowed one another. His gaze snuck back to his beautiful bride, the love of his life, who stood so patiently waiting to read her vows. When she felt him staring, she smirked and looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. 

“What?” 

“I’m just realizing how lucky I am,” he explained softly. She looked at him with a confused smile. “I get to share this life I’ve made with the most wonderful woman on the planet. I thought at first I wasn’t worthy of it, but now… I’ve realized.” 

“Realized what, Shoto?” 

“Why I worked so hard for a life like this to begin with. I wanted to become a man deserving of your love, Momo,” he explained, reaching out to gently ghost his fingers over hers. “I’m just really glad to hear that you think I’m worthy.” 

“Silly,” she laughed, tears slipping down her cheeks and clinging to the sheer lace of the veil. “You’ve always been worthy.” 

Maybe that’s the way she felt. It was just a testament to how beautiful she was, right down to her soul. But now, after this whirlwind of a day, Shoto could rest easy knowing that he really was. Because she was his angel, his goddess, his salvation, and his life, and she was worthy of everything he had to give her and more—and he would work tirelessly every day to live up to that, to keep himself worthy.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[klixxy]

weekly fic recs

(ft. my bookmark comments - mostly mha and voltron)

boku no hero academia:

what is right and what is easy - theroyalsavage

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + angst; 2k words; oneshot)

Midoriya Izuku is not chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. He does not slay a dragon, or rescue innocents, or brave a maze of dark magic. He does not win accolades, or fame, or glory.

Instead, Izuku meets the son of the greatest dark wizard of the age, a Durmstrang student with hair like a sunrise and eyes like a war. And maybe, he just might win something else.

If I'm Being Honest.... by I_dont_know_man 

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + crack/humor; 26k words; oneshot; truth quirk)

Midoriya scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Uh, Shouto, why are you glaring at me like that?”

“I-” Todoroki began to lie, until nausea slammed him like a door to any room that Bakugou entered. “I--” Todoroki grit his teeth, and glared daggers into the wall behind Midoriya. Goodbye, friendship. It had been absolutely divine while it lasted. “Because you’re very attractive.”

They say honesty is the best policy, but it sure as hell had a knack for Todoroki making a complete and utter fool of himself.

Or: In which Todoroki is placed under a mysterious truth-telling quirk and suffers, Uraraka laughs at him, Midoriya is confused but smitten nonetheless, and Twitter is the thirstiest site on the planet.

paint on our lips (paint on those fingertips) by spicanao

(bnha; tododeku; angst + magical realism; 11k words; oneshot; gallery au)

Galleries are wonderful places. The works seem so vibrant, so beautiful, so alive.

Until they're actually alive.

(Ib AU)

[my bookmarks: holy shit this is beautiful in an odd, poignant, dream-like way]

Todoroki Shouto’s Amateur Guide to Not Fucking Up The Timeline by Anubis_2701

(bnha; tododeku; crack/humor; 13k words; oneshot; time travel; future fic)

All that Todoroki had wanted was milk. Nothing drastic, nothing dramatic, just milk.

Unfortunately, in his quest to get milk, he ended up running into one of the saltiest, most impulsive people this side of the globe. Who also just so happened to have a volatile time-travel quirk.

So yeah, he was fucked. Just slightly. Being punted randomly through time wasn't exactly how he'd wanted to spend his Saturday morning. At least the younger versions of his friends are cute.

awake and (un)afraid, asleep or- by driedupwishes

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + angst + The Feels; 54k words; oneshot; social media/future fic)

“You,” Shoto says, picking his head up from where his screen is filled with The Worst Photograph Ever, curtesy of Shinsou, Jiro, Kaminari, his brother, and nearly everyone they know. “You are so dead to me.”

Kirishima blinks, mouth half open while Izuku mutters oh god, it’s too late, isn’t it on the other end of the phone, before Kirishima is leaning into his space to see his screen.

“Oh,” he says, in response to the photo someone in the crowd of civilians watching the fight had taken of them. “Oh, that’s-” he cuts himself off for a minute, leaning back to eye Shoto’s face while on the other side of the phone Izuku smothers what is probably a laugh, and then changes tracks.

“It’s super manly to love and support your friends,” Kirishima tells Shoto haughtily, as if this whole thing isn't his fault in the first place.

-

or: Kirishima and Shoto accidentally start trending on Twitter and in retaliation Shoto decides to make an Instagram to showcase all his Hero Deku merchandise, so that everyone knows how much he loves his boyfriend Izuku, and no one expects how quickly it will all spiral out from there

[my bookmarks: broke my heart. i teared up multiple times and even now I'm barely holding back tears.

pure beauty. pulls an incredible amount of emotion from the descriptive language and conveys the love and loneliness and that pulsing ache so well that i thought that my chest would cave in from the force of all the fucking feelings in it. this entire fic was a perfect, awe-inspiring package of fluff, beautiful shoto and class 1a interaction, heartfelt long distance tododeku feels, and almost every single paragraph had my heart fucking squeezing so hard in my chest that i could barely breathe.

i am in awe.]

Hooliganisms by aphrodaisyacs

(bnha; gen/todofam; crack/humor; 17k words; series; social media)

In which an anonymous artist’s street art of Bald Endeavor goes viral, causing a chain of coincidental events and ironic situations to ripple through the lives of everyone- heroes, villains and civilians alike.

[my bookmarks: i'm crying so much from laughter]

Part 1: Where it all begins- the origins of the street artist known as the "Bald Hooligan" and their rise to infamy

Part 2: The spin-off focusing on the unlikely trio whose friendship was borne from the events of Part 1

Daydreaming by AnonymousTwit

(bnha; gen/todobakudeku; angst; 7k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric)

If he'd been more careful, then they'd be fine. If he'd been paying attention, then he wouldn't be alone right now.

But he wasn't and he hadn't, so it's just him, now. It's him, his thoughts, and the unconscious bodies of two of his closest friends as he waits for someone to reach them.

Whether they be friendly or not.

Or

Author has writer's block and coughed up some Todoroki angst in retaliation.

A Study in Firsts by Oceanbreeze7

(bnha; gen; angst + fluff + humor; 76k words; ongoing; class 1a-centric)

There’s a first time for everything.

The first time everyone crammed in Momo’s room to study, a mess of limbs and books on her bed.

The first time Mina burned crepes so badly the smoke alarm went off.

The first time a jumpscare got Sero so badly, he flipped off the back of the couch.

The first time Uraraka fell asleep at the table and accidentally sent it floating.

The first time someone realized Todoroki walked far too quietly, and far too cautiously around the dorms to be normal.

The first time Midoriya broke his toe on a door frame and kept walking through it.

The first time Kirishima woke up screaming through the walls.

The first time Tsuyu blanched at the sight of a needle.

The first time Bakugo dropped, clutching the back of his neck with eyes scarily vacant and detonating everything around him until Aizawa had to intervene.

It wasn’t always pretty, but the dorms were filled with firsts.

Responsibility by deafmic

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 94k words; series (complete); todoroki-centric; dadzawa + papamic)

“I told you outside,” Aizawa chooses his words carefully, reiterating the same point he’s made before. “My responsibility for you doesn’t end at the classroom. Every part of your life is partially my responsibility. Your father doesn’t scare or intimidate me. If you need help, I can get it for you, but you and I both know that you need to ask for it first.”

Aizawa organizes a way for the students to go home for the holidays. Todoroki Shouto, however, gets left behind by his father. Aizawa, annoyed at Endeavor, takes Shouto under his care for the night, and is joined by a certain Yamada Hizashi.

[my bookmarks: *unholy screaming sobbing noises*

an incredible and emotional journey from start to finish.]

the drip of melting ice by walking_through_autumn

(bnha; gen/platonic shintodo; angst + fluff; 19k words; oneshot; todoroki/shinsou-centric ft. dadzawa)

Aizawa found out within a day. It was quite likely due to the dish Todoroki had washed and left to dry in the shared kitchen after the kitten had been fed off it. Hitoshi was forced to reflect that it wasn’t any good hiding the litter and cat food in their wardrobes if Todoroki was going to make a fundamental mistake like that.

Aizawa stood in his door frame and raised an eyebrow. “Well? Where is the cat?”

Hitoshi gave his most disarming smile. “What cat?”

Todoroki chose that moment to exit his room, eyes on his phone, other hand holding a cat toy. He bumped into Aizawa and looked up slowly, like in a horror movie.

“...oh,” Todoroki said. Aizawa raised the other eyebrow. Hitoshi rubbed a hand down his face.

Herbal tea, weekly floor gatherings, spoiled surprises, movie marathons, shared custody over a cat, rain and ice and blankets and plushies, and the journey of falling into a friendship.

(Or: Hitoshi moves into the 2A dormitory at the beginning of his second year, learns who his neighbour is, and makes the friends he had declared he isn't there to have within the space of a semester.)

Hand in Hand in Hand by kngsbrg (Citlalcoatl)

(bnha; todobakudeku; fluff + strangers to lovers; 10k words; oneshot; tea au)

Boiling the water, choosing the right temperature for the right kind of tea, using quality leaves, scooping the precise amount, and letting it steep for just the perfect time...

All that and more is needed to make a delicious cup of tea.

A business that Shouto was quite knowledgeable about.

*

Spring begins and brings with it the hint of new fresh air, buds waiting to blossom, and just a bit of change.

[my bookmarks: featuring: oblivious teamaker shoto and pining firemen baku and izu]

even if i die (it's you) by monomoon

(bnha; todobaku; fluff + angst + strangers to lovers; 75k words; complete; paramedic au)

Or; where Todoroki never went to UA and, in rejection of his father's ambitions, became a paramedic; and where pro hero Bakugou Katsuki is just a little bit too intrigued with the heterochromatic man who always glares daggers at him whenever he sees him.

When Bakugou was suddenly and abruptly met with two cold, heterochromatic eyes glaring daggers right back at him, he had two immediate thoughts:

"Why does he look like he's plotting my assassination?"

and

"Why the fuck are his eyes so pretty?"

[my bookmarks: UGH THIS IS JUST FUCKING PHENOMENAL- GORGEOUS LOVELY INCREDIBLE HEARTSTOPPING HEARTBREAKING BEAUTIFUL RIDICULOUSLY GOOD POIGNANT I AM RUNNING OUT OF ADJECTIVES BUT IT'S GREAT TRUST ME AKDHJSFNW]

This Is Now by colormesherlocked

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort + fluff; 193k words; series (ongoing); todoroki-centric)

Todoroki Shoto will be a hero.

...But not just yet. Right now, Todoroki Shoto is a bitter, pessimistic, hurt teenager who doesn't want help, friends or hinderances of any kind getting in the way of his misguided goals.

Thankfully, there will soon be people in his life who will be more than happy to drag him into a place of happiness, safety, and acceptance - kicking and screaming the whole way, if they have to. All he has to do is survive his first meeting with them and all the incredible changes that will come after.

This is Todoroki Shoto's Hero Academia.

(Semi-canon compliant up to a point and told from Todoroki Shoto's POV.)

the league of anti-villains by aizawa_wears_crocs (avenris), avenris

(bnha; gen; angst + fluff + humor; 35k words; ongoing; todobakushinmono-centric)

When he's secretly tasked to find the UA traitor, Todoroki isn't expecting help. He's especially not expecting it from the three other first year students perceived as villainous in their own ways. Unfortunately for him, Shinsou, Monoma and Bakugou have all got something to prove, and his solo mission turns into a team effort that rapidly spirals far beyond what they were expecting to find - but hey, they're in too deep now.

Or: in which the gang solves the mystery of the traitor feat. todoroki family shenanigans, copious amounts of dadzawa, backstory for my favorite 1-B gremlin, and good old-fashioned illegal vigilantism.

such eloquent graffiti by firelilyblooms

(bnha; todobaku; angst + hurt/comfort; 9k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; future fic)

Todoroki Shouto is sitting cross-legged at his coffee table, hunched over a bowl of instant ramen, when he finds out along with the rest of the world that the Flame Hero, Endeavor, is dead.

Or, Shouto's guide to dealing with death.

[my bookmarks: i am in ✨pain✨:)]

Tell-All by HopeNight

(bnha; todofam; angst; 4k words; oneshot; todofam/natsuo-centric)

When Natsuo is twenty-years-old, he publishes a tell-all book on his father and growing up in his house. This starts a domino effect, of course. With the book comes an investigation and sets the groundwork for the Hawks scandal in several years’ time that will see the disbandment of the Heroic Public Safety Commission and the ascension of pro hero Deku to the Number One slot. This will also lead to a decades long chain of change and progress with Deku wielding his influence and charisma like a sword and shield to make society and the world a little better than when he found it.

In essence, you can say, that Todoroki Natsuo is the true hero of this story with his fake quirk and an anger burning in his gut. Just one small book and suddenly…everything changes. The future is brighter for its existence. The curtains are thrown back and the light begins its work to disinfect and cleanse.

When Todoroki Shouto is in his second year of UA, his brother, Natsuo, publishes a tell-all book of essays about growing up in Endeavor's house.

This is Natsuo's story about how he really changed the path of things.

like an open wound by filzmonster

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 5k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; manga spoilers)

It's a Sunday and Shouto is making gyoza in the dorm kitchen - or: It's a Sunday and Todoroki has an existential crisis over food.

[my bookmarks: oh my GODDDDDDDDD

*screeches while crying**is a blubbering mess*]

Shouto Todoroki and His Stuffed Eeyore (And Also Childhood Trauma) by ThatSpicySeaFlapFlap

(bnha; gen; angst + MORE ANGST; 42k words; complete; todoroki-centric)

Aizawa looked him in the eye, placed a gentle hand around his bicep (not like Endeavor, his father had only ever touched him with the intention to burn) and asked, “Are you okay?”

People don’t usually ask him things. They like to tell him things, like where to sit or what to wear or how to talk or how to be a hero or how to be himself.

‘Am I okay?’ He thought. He realized he doesn’t ask himself things, either.

Shouto didn’t have an answer to Aizawa’s question, so instead he said:

“A very long time ago, my mother did something....highly upsetting.” The boy was tracing the outline of his scar, his calloused finger stopping and jumping around the bumps and ridges of the burnt skin. “Something today reminded me of that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” His teacher asked.

“No.”

“Okay. I’m here when you do. I’m always here, kid.” Shouto only responded with a sob. He felt as if he’d earned that right after all the emotional labor he had been put through tonight.

days by chibistarlyte

(bnha; todobaku; angst + hurt/comfort; 19k words; series (complete); todoroki-centric)

Most days, Shouto is fine.

But some days...

Some days, Shouto falls apart.

Location Sent by sunflowerstorm

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 15k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; third year 1a)

In their first year at UA Midoriya sent his location to the class 1-A group chat during the Hosu incident because he didn't have time to do anything else before rushing to Iida's aid.

Now in their second year, Todoroki sends his location to the group chat at 6:30am on a Saturday morning after going home for the weekend. Midoriya knows immediately that something is very wrong and takes off, Bakugo hot on his heels.

-----

"They’d known each other long enough to be able to communicate practically wordlessly. The quiet rage on Midoriya's face was extremely telling, this was bad. Bakugo braced himself as Midoriya shuffled to the side to show where his hands were hovering over what was most certainly a burn and a serious one at that. Todoroki’s own fire didn’t burn him but they all knew that didn’t make him fire proof. Bakugo could do the math."

Faith by phinnium

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 7k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; manga spoilers)

"You wanted to open a case?"

Aizawa frowned, "uh, yeah. Someone showed you Dabi's video, didn't they? And I don't doubt Todoroki himself has told you bits and pieces."

Izuku did not expect this to be how the conversation went.

"Yeah. But Todoroki isn't being hurt now. He's fine. Endeavour's changed."

Or: Midoriya trusts the Hero Commission far more than he should, especially given the situation at hand. Todoroki isn't available to explain what's what, so Aizawa and Bakugou do it instead.

(Written after the release of issue 293 of the manga, and in the aftermath of the current arc. Spoilers ahead.)

Incendiary by macrauchenia

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 17k words; ongoing (hiatus?); todoroki-centric)

"You're going to die, little Todoroki. And if you don't, your classmates will instead."

A training exercise backfires when Izuku and Todoroki become tangled in an escaped villain's vendetta against Endeavor. Alone in a perilous situation due to the villain's barrier quirk, Todoroki must take desperate and creative measures to save his classmates.

[Class 1-A Teamwork/Bonding]

Parallax by petrichor (findingkairos)

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort + fluff; 64k words; ongoing; todoroki-centric)

Todoroki Shouto has memories that he didn't make on his own, motor skills that his brain doesn't know how to parse, and a love of science and mathematics and physics that means he broke down his Quirk into its most intricate, universe-bending components at the age of seven.

In one universe, he wants to become a hero. In this one, even though he doesn't want to, he might have to.

(Featuring: a rapidly developing Shoutosquad, Quirk science, headcanons of all flavors, healthy and supportive sibling and sibling-like relationships, and Dadzawa.)

[notes: one of my current favorite fics that i’m eagerly following for the next update. :D]

Caturdays by staqua (aka my fav todobaku author)

(bnha; todobaku; fluff + angst + enemies to lovers; 10k words; oneshot)

"Hmm... It's lunchtime now isn't it? You should have lunch with him."

"With Bakugou?" He blanched. "I think he would refuse and then murder me."

Rei chuckled softly as if death was a joke and held his hand tenderly. "If he's in the hospital, someone he cares about must not be well. I think anyone going through that should have a nice meal with good company."

"You overestimate me," Shouto pointed out and she gave another laugh.

OR: Shouto's usual Saturdays included visits to his mother and the cat cafe; he wasn't expecting Bakugou to get thrown in the mix.

voltron: legendary defender:

*hacks twitter in space* by Zakyuu 

(vld x marvel; gen/klance; crack/humor + fluff; 17k words; social media au; ongoing)

the voltron paladins arent as popular as the avengers, obviously — in fact, no one even knows they exist. but they still radiate the same kind of dumb gay energy like the rest of the world.

or: pidge somehow manages to connect voltron's communicators onto earth and virtually nothing is the same. voltron also collectively makes everyone lose their marbles while they play hot potato with the fact that theyre in a ten thousand year war with the galra.

the fear of falling by amillionsmiles

(vld; gen; angst + fluff; character study; 3k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith can pull off a downward spiral. It's the kind of maneuver he does in his sleep.

[my bookmarks: stunning. beautiful. breathtaking. poignant.]

Recoil/Release by Cheshyr

(vld; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 22k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

When Keith is bitten by an alien creature with venom that causes your dominant emotions to be amplified, the team is ready for a day of dealing with an incredibly angry paladin.

Which means they're not ready at all for what actually happens.

hound by story_monger

(vld; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 47k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith has a lot of practice being alone; you might almost say he's good at it. When he finds himself seriously injured and stranded on an unknown planet, he knows he's not alone there. And here's the worst part: even after rescue and after things return to normal, Keith gets the distinct sense that whatever was on that planet has followed him. He doesn't have proof. But he knows it's there. He knows it's not going to stop until it gets what it wants.

Keith's 'Physical Contact' Initiation Program by alisayamin (sh_04e)

(vld; gen; fluff+ angst + hurt/comfort; 26k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith didn’t move and neither did Pidge. It was a little awkward until Keith finally said, “Maybe we could officially officiate this..?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fist me.”

Pidge recoiled and sputtered, “Keith, what the f-” She was cut off by Shiro’s bellowing laughter from the observatory deck.

With his straight face unchanged, Keith lowered his left hand with the stopwatch and lifted his right hand, fisted.

Pidge actually sighed with so much relief, “OH. You mean fistbump! Right.” She slapped her forehead to remove the very very wrong image her imagination drew for her, “Holy shit, Keith, we need to work on that but yeah sure, I’d be honoured to officiate your physical contact program whatever.”

Or

That one time Coran realized Keith was too distant and decided to make him undergo the 'Physical Contact' Initiation Program which then led to --> 5 times the paladins realized Keith was an actual cat.

The Red String by Le_Tournesol

(vld; gen/klance; angst + fluff; 19k words; series (ongoing); keith-centric; pre-voltron au)

Lance and Keith keep coming across one another at different points in their lives.

[my bookmarks: this is so sad and sweet and lovely]

All that is gold does not glitter by Rangergirl3

(vld; gen; angst + fluff + hurt/comfort; 28k words; complete; keith-centric)

Keith isn't what most would call a 'people' person, but that doesn't stop him from caring about his team.

aka

Five Times the other Paladins learned something about Keith, and the One Time he learned something about them.

[my bookmarks: fuck. just- fuck.]

Miscommunication Celebration by SleepySsnail

(vld; gen; fluff + hurt/comfort; 4k words; oneshot; keith-centric; birthday fic)

Keith was never too focused on his birthday, but when it rolls around he hopes his team remembers it. When Keith's birthday is full of quality time and fun, he doesn't even question why his friends haven't said "happy birthday" to him.

Or: Where Keith thinks everyone is celebrating his birthday when they really forgot about it.

Keithtober 2019 Day 23: Birthday

avatar: the last airbender:

Change of Address by hearmerory

(atla; gen/zukka; ANGST + fluff + hurt/comfort; 89k words; series (ongoing); zuko-centric; modern au)

A collection of instances in a modern AU of Zuko's shitty childhood, featuring Ozai's dislike of his son's autism and sexuality.

[my bookmarks: FUCK F U C K WHAT THE ACTUAL F U C K.

I CAN'T WITH THIS ANYMORE.]

[goblinofthewoods]

October 2nd: Scream

Any Amity Park citizen would agree that Danny Phantom's way of dealing with pain was to scream. The ghost boy fought loudly, tossing out snide remarks and witty banter like a pro, but he was loudest whenever he was dealt a particularly rough blow by the enemy of the week. It's the same way most people immediately curse when they stub their toe; when Phantom gets hit, he yells.

It's when he's quiet that people start to worry.

---

Danny was pretty sure he'd fought worse before, but he didn't want to think about his evil alternate-future self at the moment, so he didn't dwell on the idea for long; he was too busy trying to dodge attacks from the behemoth in front of him to think about much anyway. Said behemoth was doing its best Godzilla impression, trampling cars and fire hydrants underfoot as it lumbered towards Danny, who was trying his best to lure the beast away from the center of town to avoid causing any more damage to Amity Park and its people. His people.

Danny expertly dodged eye-lasers, fireballs, and razor-sharp claws as he flew through the air, deliberately staying within the creature's line of sight.

"Come on, ugly! Is that all you got?" he taunted, hoping to get the monster to move a little faster. Danny was losing steam quickly, and all he wanted was to go home and take a well-deserved nap, but first he had to do something about the giant ghost-lizard-thing that was terrorizing the town.

Apparently the monster could understand English, or could at least interpret the tone of Danny's voice, because it roared in anger and lunged at Danny, flailing its huge claws out in front of him like someone trying to swat at a fly. Danny bobbed and weaved deftly, just narrowly avoiding getting swiped.

"Seriously? You've gotta do better than that!" he remarked. Amping himself up, Danny flew faster, away from the creature. "Bet you can't catch me!"

Behind him, Danny heard the monster's thunderous footfalls pick up the pace, so he did the same. He spotted Sam and Tucker waiting a few meters ahead, the Fenton RV parked behind them, armed and ready. He shot them a thumbs-up in reassurance that he had things under control, but his friends started to shout frantically and point to somewhere behind him; they looked terrified. Danny didn't have time to wonder what they were saying before he was sent plummeting to the ground by a giant scaly fist.

The pavement cracked like half-dried frosting under the force of his body, leaving a long trail of dislodged chunks of asphalt in his wake. He skidded to a stop roughly fifteen feet from where he initially hit the ground. As he lay there, semi-conscious and not daring to move just yet, Danny saw the blue flash of light that accompanied a ghost being sucked into the Fenton Thermos; Sam and Tuck had come through and saved the day. He would have to take them out for milkshakes sometime as a thank-you.

He distantly registered the sounds of his friends running towards him, saying things his fog-filled brain couldn't decipher; he assumed they were asking if he was okay. They made it to Danny's side and knelt down next to him. Tucker's face was pale, like he was going to be sick, and Danny noticed how tightly Sam was holding his right hand in both of hers. He looked into her eyes and saw that she was trying not to cry, but the redness and the glossy sheen of unshed tears was obvious, even with Danny's hazy vision.

Danny reached out his left arm to put his hand on top of Sam's, and Sam visibly blanched. Danny followed her gaze to his left side and saw his shoulder.

Only his shoulder.

There wasn't anything attached to it.

Danny's ears rang, and his vision blackened at the edges before the darkness engulfed him completely; the scream died in his lungs as he faded out of consciousness.

[alaricstories]

Warm embrace ft. Bakugou

Request: Hi! May I request a scenrio where the readers little brother got hurt in a school shooting, and kind of has a breakdown at the hospital? So Bakugou has to come and comfort them, with drama??? And they are together?

I loved writing this, it took a lot of time tho. It is a little long, but I would not recomend skipping parts if you want to understand the story. And it is so bad at the end... WELL- enjoy ;)

"...the police, ambulance, and firefighter's have pulled out 105 shot and wounded children and 129 dead the last 47 minutes. More pro heroes are arriving soon to help and on the way as we hope that they will be able to arrest the people who did this cruel thing. The school shooting-"

That was enough for you to slam out of your apartment door. Tears blind you, and you turn, running as quickly as your legs can carry you, bolting down the alleyway like an Olympic champion at the start gun, quickening your pace to an all-out sprint.

The pounding noise of your tennis shoes resonating off the walls of the alley with a clanging echo that matched your heart, throbbing inside your chest with the thick grief and fear you felt as you ran.

That's how you ended up in the arms of a firefighter.

In your intense movements, you somehow screamed with your whole body. Your eyes wide with horror, mouth rigid and open, your chalky face gaunt and immobile, fists clenched with blanched knuckles and the nails digging deeply into the palms of your hand. Screaming and yelling.

And as you saw your little brother that you had just seen an hour ago being carried lifeless into the man's arms, your eyes glimmered with watery tears, and you felt as if the whole world was about to crumble.

You dropped down on your knees and screamed with all your might. You sobbed tears flooded like the waters rushing down from a waterfall, and the only time you'd stop was to fill your lungs with fresh air.

~

Slam.

You slammed your head into the hospital wall and punched it with your hand. Your knuckles were red and sore from the beating, and the blood was also on the wall.

Slam.

Your forehead was red, and the dizziness became more and more unbearable to you. You wanted to stop, but the pain in your heart was more powerful. You needed to stop, to drown it in physical pain.

"Y/n!" your name rang through your ears as your body slowly stood still onto the wall. Your sight was a little blurry, and you didn't know where to put yourself; on a chair? Should you stand and wait?

A hand gently touched your shoulder, and a couple of arms wrapped around your body. It was enough to make you flinch. Your eyes widened at the sight of a redhead wrapping you in a protective hug.

Your eyes drip with tears. Your walls, the walls that hold you up, that makes you strong just, collapse. Moment by moment, they fall. Salty drops fall from your chin, drenching his shirt.

After a little while, you desperately grabbed the back of his shirt into your fists. Burring your face deep into his right chest, he could feel your nails through his shirt. Not hurting him, but hard enough so the other behind him could see what pain you were within.

"Y/n-" Jirou crunched down to your side after you had let Kirishima go a little. She took and held your hand under her face. She studied your knuckles and gently grabbed your head to her's.

"You can't do that! I'm so sorry, but causing physical pain to your body ain't the answer." You slowly realize the pain from your headache as you want to slam your fists into the wall again. You needed to drown the emotional pain with something.

You clenched your hands together and started to slam them on the floor. You made Jirou, Midoriya, and Kirishima feel a little hopeless as they screamed for you to stop, trying to hold you in place. They, of course, didn't know what to do.

When they got the grip on you, you started to feel your body slowly weaken as your eyes began to hurt. You felt like you wanted to throw up. "Y/n?"

Your muscles stopped working as you fell into the arms of Jirou. Kirishima, holding your head as tried to make you look upwards. Black.

~

You laid there quietly, keeping your eyes closed, matching your breaths to the beeping of the machines that surrounded the bed, the only indications of your heartbeat, your existence.

Your legs were numb. Curiosity slowly pried open your swollen eyes to meet a dismal view of a magnolia colored hospital room, the door a navy blue.

You slid your eyes sideways; bandages wrapped around your palms, but they didn't cover your fingers. They hurt a little as you lifted one of your arms to your head. It was a bandage there too.

You slowly looked to your side to see an angry blond staring right into your soul. Before you could ask him anything, he stood up from the chair and slammed his hands on the side of the bed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He screamed into your ear as your body filled with fear of the full-grown figure towering over you. "Look at your hands, you idiot! And your head!"

"Everything fine in here?" You both turned to a nurse who looked serious at Bakugou. You guessed she was asking if he was a problem to you, which you smiled and waved, "Yea, thank you."

She hesitated but ended up closing the door. Bakugou turned back to you with an impatient, angry impression. "Well?"

But all you could think of was the sight of your brother; how he looked so lifeless in the man's arms. Tears started to fill your eyes as you tried lifting your body. Bakugou shoved your body down again.

"(name)-" Your little brother's name fell from your mouth as pain rushed through your body at the sudden movement. You wanted to know where he is! Is he okay?!

"He's fine!" He said roughly and held your shoulders, "He's with your aunt."

Tears started to form in your eyes as you lifted your hand and grabbed the upper edge of his black t-shirt. You tightened your grip and felt the pain run through your knuckles.

He grabbed your wrist wanted to pull it way, seeing how you desperately wanted him to hold you. "D-don't-" you stopped in your sentence as tears ran down your face.

"Don't cling to me, idiot! Oi- Stop pulling me!" Bakugou lost his grip on the bed edge and fell onto you. You clenched your arm around his neck and laid your forehead on his shoulder.

"Don't let him leave me-" You whispered so low you could barely hear it yourself. So it was no surprise he would ask, "What." right afterward. It just didn't sound like a question. It was more like a 'don't repeat' thing.

"Don't let him leave me. D-Don't leave me." Your words made no sense to him. Thinking he's leaving you? Why does that even cross your mind?!

"I just don't want to feel alone again-" before you could finish the sentence, he grabbed your shirt and pulled your close to his face in anger. "Why the fuck does that even cross your fucking mind?!"

 "I-I don't know! I don't want you to disappear!" Tears ran down your face in both horrors and need. You grabbed his wrist and waited for something to happen. Anything. He tightened his grip on you, and then the words just spilled out of your mouth, "IWASSOSCAREDWHENISAW *inhale* (name)THATIJUSTTHOUGHTABOUTTHATTHATCOULDBEYOUONEDAY *inhale* AND-"

Before you could say more, you felt a force on your lips. You opened your eyes just as it was gone. You were speechless. Your eyes met his as a light blush formed on his cheeks.

He kissed you. 

The feeling that you didn't know or felt when it happened made you want to steal one from him. You also wanted to feel a kiss. The only thing you felt was a force in less than one second.

Before he could say anything with that look of his, you put your arm around his neck and pulled him down.

One. Hard and awkward.

Two. Light and small, still awkward.

Three. Long and desperate.

Four. A growing rhythm.

You were unprepared. You would think that after all the hours you'd spent with Bakugou - watching him talk, laugh, and annoyed scream- that you would know all there was to know about his lips. But you hadn't imagined how warm and hungry they would feel pressed up against your own at the fifth.

You oddly stared at each other, as if it were a silent argument. Your glances battled each other, until tears arose, and you found yourselves crying, or- maybe just you?

"Why did you do it?" He asked gripping your hand, your tears rolling down with the same quietness. He sighed, wiping your tears, before rising from the hospital bed, and stroke the bandage on your head. Kissing your bandaged knuckles.

You felt an urge to do something, to slam at something, but also yourself. You smiled awkwardly beneath the salty tears, "I just wanted to drown the emotinal pain- I just wanted to feel something-" your lips shaking.

He entertwined your fingers and slammed you down on the hospital bed. "I can do that, you idiot!" His face was angry again, desperation. You smiled lightly and pulled a little closer to your body.

"Show me."

[ocassional-bnha-ficrecs]

Afffection by MikeWritesThings

Status: Complete

Ships: Aizawa/Yamada

Rating: G Word Count: 1K

Summary: “"Have you seen my husband?"

"Shouta, that is a skull. You are talking to a skull."

Or, Shouta's drunk, and it's kind of funny but also sweet.”

Diamond in the Rough by tiniest_hands_in_all_the_land

Status: Complete

Ships: Aizawa/Yamada

Rating: G

Word Count: 6K

Summary: “Aizawa loses something important to him. Class 1-A helps him find it.”

A Study in Firsts by Oceanbreeze7

Status: In Progress

Rating: G

Word Count: 73K

Summary: “There’s a first time for everything.

The first time everyone crammed in Momo’s room to study, a mess of limbs and books on her bed.

The first time Mina burned crepes so badly the smoke alarm went off.

The first time a jumpscare got Sero so badly, he flipped off the back of the couch.

The first time Uraraka fell asleep at the table and accidentally sent it floating.

The first time someone realized Todoroki walked far too quietly, and far too cautiously around the dorms to be normal.

The first time Midoriya broke his toe on a door frame and kept walking through it.

The first time Kirishima woke up screaming through the walls.

The first time Tsuyu blanched at the sight of a needle.

The first time Bakugo dropped, clutching the back of his neck with eyes scarily vacant and detonating everything around him until Aizawa had to intervene.

It wasn’t always pretty, but the dorms were filled with firsts.”

Sincerely by hanwritesstuff

Status: Complete

Ships: Midoriya/Todoroki

Rating: T

Word Count: ~4K

Summary: “Dear Mother,

I think I like someone. Please help.

Sincerely,

Shouto”

Better Than Fiction by Leisey

Status: Complete

Ships: Midoriya/Todoroki

Rating: N/A

Word Count: 14K

Summary: “Midoriya Izuku and Todoroki Shouto are a lot of things: Pro heroes, housemates, and secretly in love with one another (not that they’d admit that.) They’re also shipped together by hero fans everywhere.

Izuku didn’t mean to stumble across the Tododeku fandom online. Nor did he mean to start reading and writing fanfiction about it. And he definitely didn’t plan to be the most popular author of the fandom, Mighty_smash.

Shouto didn’t mean to start getting obsessed with Mighty_smash’s stories. Really, he didn’t. But this Mighty person had really good characterisation, and Shouto really wanted to know how the stories ended.

After all, if they couldn’t have each other in real life, then at least Izuku and Shouto could have fictional versions of themselves that did.”

Second Lap Around The Block by teaandtumblr

Status: Complete

Ships: Dabi/Hawks, Aizawa/Yamada,

Rating: T

Word Count: ~20K

Summary: ““No.”

It’s a fair response.

“And you found him because…?”

An even better response. Hawks isn’t in the mood to answer it though. “I heard a cry; I was first on scene.”

Naomasa nods and everyone else buys the tale. They’re all looking at one thing only. Specifically, the A-Rank villain known as Dabi who is, for all intents and purposes, currently five years old.

 aka, Dabi is turned into a child and suddenly turns a lot more talkative, leading to some (possibly unwanted) revelations.”

leave the light on by ohmytheon

Status: Complete

Rating: G

Word Count: 3K

Summary: “The last person Fuyumi expects to find in her kitchen at three in the morning is one of the League of Villain members and yet here they are.”

About Someone To Come Home To by A_Reflective_Projection

Status: Complete

Ships: Aizawa/Yamada

Rating: T

Word Count: ~2K

Summary: “In which Aizawa teaches his class the technicalities of being a pro-hero in a relationship.

Or

The classes loses it when the find out their teacher is married.”

(July 29, 2020)

[mintchocolatechipnut]

kirishima's wedding

Note: This is for my sunshine boy, he deserves all the love in the world and what better way to show that through headcanons for his and his s/o’s wedding? I was inspired mainly by flash mobs and wedding dances, in particular this one, so here you go!

Tags: pure fluff, dancing, Kirishima is a sentimental man, I was projecting a little too much on this

Word count: 2.0k

To be honest, it isn’t that Kirishima isn’t interested in his own wedding

It’s more like he’s interested in marrying you

And at this point, when you’ve already given him the green light when you said yes to his proposal, he really couldn’t ask for more

So he’s actually pretty content with letting you pick out most things

His being one of the top 10 heroes (see: big bonuses) is just an added perk that he’s grateful for

You want that dress you saw in that top-grade wedding magazine? Sure. You want a multi-cuisine buffet for your reception? Go for it.

Boy’s honestly just really ecstatic that you’ve agreed to marry him

Though, if you did want input from him, just say the word and he’ll offer his ideas

He wants the best for you, but if you’re adamant on wanting this wedding to be a two-person thing, he has no qualms against that

However, it’s just that his schedule doesn’t really allow for all-day wedding planning—people still need saving, reports still need to be made, it ain’t the honeymoon yet, sweetheart!

But he’ll do his best to contribute in whatever ways he can, be it the direct planning or supporting you from the sidelines by attending wedding dress sessions with you, or checking out the venues you have in mind

Heck, he even makes sure you’re eating three full meals a day when you lose track of time planning

Meanwhile, people at work have been congratulating Kirishima for becoming an engaged man

And with so many warm-hearted regards, not just from his co-workers, but even his fans (Red Riot has the best fans ever), it’s hard not to stop him from looking forward to his own wedding even more

So from then on he finds little breaks in his routine so he can help you out

His favorite part about the entire process, though, was learning your first dance

You’d asked him if he was up for learning a fun little routine as your first dance during your wedding

Now Kirishima isn’t a great dancer by any means, but he is eager to please, so he said yes quite readily

Only when he saw the video did he blanch a little

He’d thought it’d be a sweet sensual waltz that wasn’t too hard to learn (based off what he heard from others), but you’d instead chosen a fast-paced, twisty sort of dance

What was it called again? Lindy hop? Swing? He’s not sure, but the song is catchy and cheesy enough for him to tap his foot to

But oh no. He can’t dance, he thinks. This is going to take a while

And it did. You enrolled the help of Mina, who graciously extended an offer to teach you an improvised routine for the likes of you and Kirishima despite her own busy schedule

Mina’s a strict teacher. Kirishima doesn’t know why he has never thought that before. Probably because he hadn’t danced under her tutelage during the cultural festival, but whatever

She pushes him to the limit, making sure he isn’t stiff with his movements, and to coordinate with you on timing and movements

The first class is a little of a disaster though. You end up stepping on each other’s toes a lot, and Kirishima feels unnatural and awkward as he dances

This wasn’t on his resume! He’s not cut out for this kind of agile, flexible movement. In fact, all he has to do sometimes during his hero work is stay in place as a shield. He doesn’t have it in him to twist and jive like you and Mina!

You can see that Kirishima is a little discouraged, and suggest a break

Kirishima’s quiet for those few minutes, staring down at his toes and flexing them, wondering if he can ever really do this right

It’s not like you don’t notice, but Mina is busy teaching you how to improve your own steps

When he sees you dance all on your own though, a surge of pride wells up in Kirishima because you’re doing your best even though this isn’t your territory

But you’d wanted to do it, and here you were putting your back into it

And—technically he wanted to do it too, right? Since he’d agreed.

Kirishima then realises that he hasn’t been giving this his all, considering he never thought it was in his nature, or part of his expertise, to do this

But there’s always a first time, right?

You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see a grinning Kirishima, holding two thumbs-up to say ‘Let’s go!’

After that practice goes a lot more smoothly, with Kirishima finally getting the rhythm in his veins and you two even having successfully danced through the first verse on just memory

When you get home, Kirishima’s so eager to get it right all over again that you have to tell him to tone it down because you yourself are aching all over from Mina’s spartan training

You begin having weekly sessions with Mina, always practicing in between when the both of you have the time, because it’s not like it’s the same when you practice on your own individually

And Kirishima realises he likes doing this with you, taking big new steps together out of your comfort zones, to do something different

Just like how you were soon to be taking a whole new big step into the future as husband and wife

And suddenly all these private dance sessions with you he brings a little closer to his heart

For one he’s never one to pass up the chance to practice with you, and what’s more, he thoroughly enjoys himself when he twirls you around the room and see the endless joy in your tired, satisfied smile at the end of it

Pretty soon he’s wanting to make sure that you put on the best performance for wedding day

He’s even resorted to bopping and doo-wopping in his office sometimes, even when Bakugou comes around for work things

In which he snorts and tells Kirishima he’s acting like a total idiot and should get off cloud 9 real quick, or else he’s gonna make him

But Kirishima really can’t bring himself to care, because he just knows that he’s going to make you proud on that day with his moves

When the day finally rolls around (or perhaps a few days earlier), Kirishima’s getting the wedding jitters

To which he copes with going out with his friends from high school, and to which Kaminari and Sero decide to hold a stag party for him

Just him and the boys, after so long

He has a great time of course, and forgets about his worries for a little while, but when he comes home and noticed you’ve gone to sleep without him, he’s brought back to thinking about the day you’ll finally sleep in the same bed as husband and wife

And there he goes again

It takes a good nag from Bakugou that ‘you don’t need to worry about a thing, Shitty Hair, or else she’ll be embarrassed for you’ for him to regain his spirits

It’s really not that he doesn’t want to marry you, but his insecurities, having just found an outlet in you, have resurfaced once more to plague him with the idea that he doesn’t deserve you

But maybe it’s precisely because he doesn’t deserve you that he’s got to do everything he can to make you happy, so you don’t regret this choice you made with him

Wedding day finally arrives, and Kirishima’s got the nerves again

But the good kind this time

You can have his hair done however you like, but I like to headcanon that he wears it down in its natural state, with half of it done up in a ponytail like how Aizawa occasionally wears it. It’s a tribute to how he’d shed his old self to be a new version of Crimson Riot, with the vibrant red hair, but also not forgetting his roots and origins

He waits nervously at the altar, where Bakugou crosses his arms impatiently to his side (because of course Bakugou is his best man)

He sees all the guests you’ve invited: pro heroes, mutual friends, your own colleagues, and of course, your families

Not to mention some of the press are lingering outside the venue in order to get some photos in for the news of Red Riot tying the knot

And he’s terrified and thrilled at the same time by the prospect that the two of you will be joining together as one in front of so many witnesses

When you finally walk toward him in a dress as radiant as your smile, Kirishima sheds a few tears

He definitely cries. He can’t help it! When you take his outstretched, trembling hand and stand next to him, you decide to tease him a little

You whisper, “What? Already can’t handle the prospect of marrying me? Are you going to break it off?”

“No!” His outburst is loud enough for the people in the front pews (namely your families) to hear, which startles you, but when you turn to face each other, both of your hands held in his, he leans forward and whispers, ‘No. I’m never going to let you go from now on.’

‘Come on Eiji, we haven’t even said the vows yet.’ But he can’t stop the tears, and it takes a few embarrassing yet endearing moments for you to calm him down and proceed with the ceremony

In the end, your first kiss as husband and wife at the altar is, as he tells the boys later, ‘indescribable’

There are just so many feelings running through him when he kisses you that he’s tempted to cry again

But the cheers all around you remind him this is a joyous occasion to be celebrated, and Mr and Mrs. Kirishima make a run down the aisle while petals are being thrown and congratulations echoing around them

It finally comes down to the first dance, and Kirishima’s got adrenaline pumping through his veins even before the music starts

He’d had a few glasses of champagne earlier to calm his nerves but the alcohol hasn’t been kicking in and it’s almost time—

He feels a hand clutch his and the moment he looks at you, all inhibitions fade

He’s ready to kill it on that dance floor with you

Needless to say, the dance goes superb and gets rave reviews from the guests, if the whoops and the whistles are anything to go by

By the end of it everyone is up and dancing and Kirishima just can’t keep the beaming smile off his face

The second time Kirishima cries is when he’s dancing with you to a ballad, as he holds you close to him, feeling every inch of your body against his and having your wonderful, beautiful self so close

You notice the silent tears dripping down his face and place a hand to his cheek, ‘What’s wrong, Ei?’

‘Nothing’s wrong. That’s just it. Everything’s so right in this moment that I feel I’ll never experience this ever again.’ And since he’s not so sober at the moment, he blurts out the whole of what he’s really thinking. ‘I just think about how I got here, with you, and I don’t know if I’ve unknowingly traded all my life’s happiness away for this one day.”

He waits for the usual pep talk you always give him when he tells you he doesn’t deserve you or any of this, or a ‘don’t be silly’ kind of logical dismissal he might expect from Bakugou, but you look him in the eye, and through his blurry vision your smile is still as bright as it was on the day you first met

‘Well, even if you’re forever sad from now on, I know I can only feel eternal happiness after this. So I’ll be nice and share some of that happiness with you, because we’re one now.’

This time the tears really come pouring lmao

Everyone mocks him for being such a crybaby afterwards but all Kirishima can think of is now that he’s given you his last name, he’s going to continue giving you all the happiness in the world

[anteroom-of-death]

Life, For Dummies p4

a/n: any one out here wilding? i’m just vibing and writing comes when you ave zero braincells left...

Waking up was a struggle, you’d never slept that deeply or that well. The combination between a long, hot shower and Earth-shattering sex made it all too easy to sleep. You were so, so sore, but it was good. You admitted you hadn’t been fucked like that, heavens, at all if not for a long while. You looked at the large mirror across from your bed, lifting up your shirt. You had a few book-related bruises. 

Stretching and feeling out the fact that you obviously didn’t have your sea legs yet. Your knees and thighs were wobbling and weak.

Then you caught it in the reflection. The collar- your collar. You half- thought it was just a fever dream. But it was real, and it’s weight was light but suddenly very noticable. The ring pressed against your larynx, the bow at the back felt oddly graceful as you flexed your neck to get a better look. 

You finally allowed yourself to cry- this was what dreams were made of. (hey now, hey now!) You were exhausted already, you were happy. You felt light years away from where you were before the Master whisked you away. Hell, the last time you saw the Doctor seemed just a memory. 

So much had changed. You felt completely different. Yes, you had all your same traits, likes and dislikes. But a week with the Master? Chaotic, mind blowing, devastating, beautiful, enriching and most of all, beyond your wildest dreams and even your deepest darkest wishes.

You definitely were different. The collar around your throat and the bruises and sore, stiff muscles proved you were. Not only were you having a tea party with the Devil, but you were the Devil’s whore. 

It was wicked, and all too amazing. He treated you well for the most part. Very well. For only knowing you a week, he seemed to harbor no true ill will. 

You got dressed and wracked your brain, reconciling everything finally and putting thoughts in boxes where they needed to go. It was slow, but needed. And time really did not matter anymore. You splashed yourself with cold water from the sink and prepared yourself mentally for outside your solitary walls. You had no clue what was waiting outside and you needed to put yourself out of any more revieries that might pop up. You had a lot of thoughts, and a lot of places to add up. Obviously, pro and con lists were out of the questions these days.

You supposed if this was a standard exchange of power, that rules and limits would be in place, but there was already the imbalance of aliens with knowledge of all of history, time travel, and space. Humans were simpler and had an equal footing. Therefore it was always up for debate.

You were halfway through finishing your daily SPF and thought about what if’s. Where was this all going? You couldn’t ask, obviously. He made it all up as he went along as much, if not more than the Doctor.

Poor Doctor, you allowed yourself to think, picks you up from your mundane routine only for you to better fit in with her best enemy. 

Her loss, his gain.

Things added up, morals and ethics wise. The Doctor could be just as callous and just as insane, yet hid behind the greater good. She was a spoonful of sugar whereas he was castor oil. Twin sides of a coin…

You shook yourself from these thoughts. Too much to process in one morning for you, especially without caffeine to mainline. 

You finished up and made your way out after stretching and taking a few excedrin you found rattling around the medicine chest. This TARDIS was incredibly intuitive and even materialised all your usual products you used. Or maybe the Master read your mind and supplied them. Either way, it was a big help…

You made your way out and sat down to an already piping hot mug of coffee and a tinkering Master. Your heart and stomach gave a flutter. You rolled your eyes at your over-eagerness.

“You’re finally up, I was worried that I’d have to physically go in there…”

You sloshed into yourself, “How long was I actually asleep?”

“19 hours. I think that qualifies as a coma with you humans.” 

“I obviously needed to sleep.” You talked into your coffee mug. It tasted good. Strong, a little crunchy, very much the perfect cup you didn’t have to add anything to.

“Mmn, you made this?” You asked, pointing to the mug held loft in your hand.

“Of course, I know how to make coffee, spent years on the Outback of Australia, I got bored, I know how to be perfect at everything…”

“Yeah, sure, perfect at everything.” You rolled eyes again, this time at him. 

“I am the Master.”

“Alright, alright.” You gave a concessional hand. You stared into your coffee and contemplated breakfast. You weren’t usually a big fan of eating in the morning, but all things considered you scraped yourself away from the coffee and started looking through the cupboards to see if anything was appealing to you in the moment. Nothing seemed terribly tasty so you just grabbed a bowl of random cereal and some sort of liquid you assumed was oat milk by the scent. 

You felt his eyes studying your back the entire time, you didn’t know if it was in an observational manner or just perversely taking a peek at your backside. 

“You like the show?” You demanded jokingly. 

“Of course, pet…” He leaned back and placed the device he had down. It was a long silver and gold rod with three prongs at the tip. “I see my pretty little pet has found her pretty little treat.” He went over and flipped a strand of your hair and fingered the collar at your neck before stroking at your sternum. He smiled down and flexed his lips open. The lighting made his teeth glitter dangerously. 

The dim lighting really brought out a beautiful tone to his lips. You tried to return to your cereal, but you pecked him on the cheek and steered yourself to a seated position. Temptation could take a temporary back burner. You had to get some semblance of nutrition into you.

He joined you at the table. 

“I was thinking of a few ideas, but I wanted your input.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really, I can more than enough make my own choices, but to spice it up, why not get some feedback? What chaos shall be wrought today?” He bent over the table, disregarding the personal space needed to eat a bowl of cereal and let actual brain-processing happen. 

“What all did you have in mind?” You scooted back infinitesimally and tried to finish breakfast quickly. 

He quickly pointed to some post-it notes, “Here’s the name of an intergalactic crime boss who owes me a few favors, figured we could go and rough him up until he squeals, giving me the powerful weaponry we all know he has. Or, here’s a plan to visit a certain set of pepper pots and make some deals that most definitely will backfire, but it would be great fun to see them get frustrated and deny the fact that they can get frustrated. Or I was thinking of visiting Earth and teasing Torchwood and UNIT around early 2000’s Cardiff, you know, for funsies. Oh! What if we went back to Raxacoricofallapatorius and destroyed their nursery?” He was spinning around and fluttering between notebooks and sketches including one where he was strangling a person in an army uniform and a handlebar moustache. 

“Jesus, how fast does your brain go?” You massage your temples…

“Too much? Huh? What would you suggest then?” He pouted, placing a hand at his hip and jutting it out.

“Why don’t we just start slow and nothing Earthly? Crime boss seem good? Simple even…” You slurped the milk off the spoon, “But lemme finish Breakfast first!” Pointing it at him, “Slow your roll. Savor the day. Do you Time Lords even sleep?”

“Rarely.” 

“Wow, that explains so much.”

He querched an eyebrow, “And what would that be, love?” The love felt oddly formal, not like being called a pet. 

“I’ve only met two of you, mind, so I might be generalizing...but the high energy. Like... “ You pressed your fingertips together, “Napping? Don’t you enjoy finding a good place to sleep during the day and just sleeping and enjoying the restfulness and sensations of the sun through a window and maybe a breeze if you open it a bit.”

“No, I’d love to try it, sounds pleasurable…”

“And you said that you were the Master of Everything.” You false-scandalized then laughed, cupping his face and smiling at him. It was great. He really made you laugh in one of those cheesy, stupid ways.

“I could punish you for talking down to your Owner…” He teased right back.

“Oooh...dirty.” You gave a salacious wink.

You could feel the “You have no idea…” radiating from his pores.

“Come along, my pet…” He pulled you from the table and over to the console, “We got a crime boss to torture…”

He punched in the coordinates and grabbed his jacket, then pulled you out the door…

You were toasting your success in the newly acquired weapons-room that now belonged to, as he poured you a little more champagne. 

You oddly enjoyed helping torturing the poor sap. He squirmed and you enjoyed him blanching from pain. 

The machine you saw him working on was a laser screw-driver? And he gave it to you as he was attaching some high tech hand-cuffs to the man. He told you that the controls were intuitive and to “give it a whirl...see how that grabs you…” Watching the gross little green man scream and shake around, flushing and pleading- felt good. Felt powerful. It brought you a tingle of pleasure and you could see why the Master was fond of it. The device felt good in your hand and after the second whorl of your wrist, it felt like a natural extension. It felt right to hold it in your hand and be able to grasp such power. 

A bit of sadism? Then champagne? And the thrill of a steal? All felt like an adrenaline rush.

What were you becoming?

A shred of our conscience echoed about the fact that you, obviously, had to kill him, something the Master allowed you to turn into him and avert your eyes as he shrunk his body and flicked it into a drainage gate. He knew your limits and didn’t go past what he knew you could currently take. You grimaced a bit as you heard a tiny clink. That was a tad harsh. 

All in all, a busy day... 

He was busy cataloging and cooing at all the tech he had access to his as he put it “fun, evil plans”...

It was hilarious and so endearing to watch. He was like a kid in a candy shop. Soft, feral, incorrigible. 

You determined that a small nap whilst tipsy and moonstruck was a great gift to yourself. You felt the collar and played idly with the diamond heart until you blacked out. 

You woke up to him watching you. “One of those fabulous little naps you talked of?” He stroked your thigh and massaged the fabric of your shorts. You pulled yourself up and propped yourself up on your elbows and coyly smiled, “Care to join me?” You winked, “Take a walk on the wild side. It’s a real treat. After that...who knows?” You teased him. 

He considered it and then loosened the buttons, and took off his jacket before laying it down and rolling up his sleeves. He laid down and you offered him to slide up to you. He obliged stiffly but soonly gave in. You spotted his chest hair and stared at it for a moment. You then acted, you traced it, mildly twirling your finger in its mass, he shuddered and then left you to continue. You laid down your head on his chest and felt his hearts pounding between two different beats. 

He murmured, “Keep the screwdriver. A little gift. From me to you…” You felt his hearts hitch a bit.

Sighing, you told him, “Relax." You let out a sleepy little moan. You embraced the warmth of his body and soothing echoing in his chest like a whitenoise machine. "You're doing excellent.." The Master eased up and you felt yourself ease up and drift off. You dreamt of falling through water and waves and the scent of fires and musk. You could feel a pair of eyes watching you, but they felt nonjudgmental, just guiding you deeper down. Deeper under the spell of sleep and total darkness. 

[bnha-mcu-requests]

A and B are both going to die. B comforts A by telling them they’ll see each other on the other side.

Before starting, I have to say that this has been a hard one to write. I was torn about who I should use in this prompt but I knew that I wanted to write it. I hope you enjoy it and that it pulls on the heartstrings.

Aizawa groaned as he crawled sluggishly back into the land of the living. He immediately regretted fighting so hard to wake up as pain sliced through his body like a hot knife, coming form everywhere and nowhere all at once.

He gasped sharply, lungs just barely inflating under the crushing pressure of - what was that? He forced his eyes open only to wish he hadn’t, coming face to face with a large concrete slab only a hair’s breath away from his nose. It seemed his legs hadn’t received the same mercy, he couldn’t feel below his left knee and for that he was grateful if the fireworks of agony coming from his right knee was anything to go off.

He hissed in another breath, wincing at the creaking of his ribs as the pressure on his sternum increased at the slight inflation. Unable to move his head more that a small tilt, he attempted to look around the small pocket of salvation he was trapped in. It was dark, too dark to see anything really, only the hazy grey outline of more rubble surrounding his prone form.

He strained his ears, trying to listen for any further explosions, and remaining still to see if there were any tell-tale vibrations from shock-waves. It would seem he was in luck, the battle was either over, or too far away to cause him any further immediate damage.

Shouta stiffened. What was that? The small pocket remained silent, it was just his mind playing tricks on hi-  there it was again!

A small wheeze. Dread pooled in his stomach, an icy fear momentarily overpowering his pain as his heart began to race, roaring blood making it almost impossible to hear anything at all.

‘H-Hello?’ he rasped, fighting the urge to cough at his dry throat, knowing it would only increase the red hot pain he felt in his chest.

A broken groan was his only response followed by a pained whimper. It sounded young and distressingly familiar.

‘Screw conserving energy’ Shouta thought to himself, he needed to know who was down here with him.

His eyes lit up a comforting ruby, faintly illuminating the dark cave. They fell on the hunched figure half buried under what looked like a steel support pipe.

‘No…’ Aizawa managed, his quirk released, plunging them both back into darkness. He knew that hair, he knew that voice. ‘Midoriya! Kid! Hey, Kid!’ he had to pause for a second to catch his breath, constricted lungs making it hard to talk, let alone yell like he had been attempting.

A pained groan was his only response and for a second, Shouta allowed himself to feel grateful the boy was unconscious, Lord knows that Midoriya would freak out.

‘S-Sensei?’ a cracked - young, so very young - voice called out. Of course he wasn’t unconscious Shouta berated himself, the problem child did nothing by halves and that apparently included being in pain as well.

‘Hey Kid, are you okay? Can you move?’ Aizawa prayed for a miracle, maybe he had seen wrong, maybe the support pillar hadn’t been so flush to the boy’s midsection as it first appeared.

‘N-no. I cn’t feel my legs. Sensei? W-what’s g’ning on?’ the teen slurred. Aizawa tried to ignore the new pain that shot through his heart at the agony and fear that was laced through his voice, at least he was coherent and responsive, those were good signs.

‘I think we were caught in the rubble after the building collapsed, I can’t move either so we’ve just got to wait for the others to come and find us’ Shouta responded, trying his best to sound optimistic, a difficult feat considering the dire situation the two had found themselves in. Harsh, stuttered breaths were his only response and Aizawa craned his head, trying desperately to see the boy, wondering if he was also searching for his teacher in the thick blackout that surrounded them.

Suddenly needing to see the boy’s face, Shouta activated his quirk again, illuminating the wide eyed, scared face of his student who winced at the sudden light. The support beam creaked and seemed to sink further into the boy, eliciting a sharp, muffled yelp as Midoriya bit his tongue to quell the noise. Aizawa shut his quirk off immediately.

How could he be that stupid? Midoriya’s quirk enhanced his own body, it was probably the only thing stopping the beam from crushing the boy completely.

Guilt coiled around his already tight lungs, forcing the remaining air out in a cloud of remorse and regret with no small portion of self loathing. He was supposed to be the adult here. He was the pro-hero and look at him now, causing pain to the very person he was supposed to save. A sudden stab of pain from his knee shook him from his stupor and he focused back onto the situation at hand.

A small ‘Sensei?’ was warbled out into the silence, practically dripping with unease.

‘I’m here Midoriya.’ Aizawa responded, a hazy melancholy feeling settling in his crushed bones at the clear distress the teen was feeling.

The very atmosphere seemed relieved and Aizawa kicked himself again, he was trapped with a kid who was very clearly in a lot of pain and very scared, he couldn’t just check out like that.

He ignored the small vindictive voice that whispered he was in pain too.

‘A-are you okay?’ that tiny, evil train of thought was drowned in the onslaught of emotions that assaulted Aizawa following that question.

‘I can’t move and I’m pretty sure I’ve got a few broken ribs and a crushed leg’ he responded honestly, knowing that the boy wouldn’t be comforted by lies, he needed to know the seriousness of their situation. ‘What about you kid? How are you feeling?’

‘I’m fine.’ the answer was strained and clearly the antitheses of ‘fine’ but at the same time, Shouta couldn’t blame the kid for lying. Acknowledging how much pain he was in, might drive him over the edge into panic, and considering the potentially limited supply of oxygen they were currently sharing, that wouldn’t be good for either of them.

Silence once again permeated the cavity, almost as thick as the shadows choking the air.

Aizawa allowed himself to slip into a hazy head-space, aware enough that he could still hear Midoriya’s shallow gasps but far enough away that the pain was slightly dulled. He had no idea how long they had been down there or even, where they were. The lack of noise implied they were further into the rubble than preferred but how far, he couldn’t tell. To be frank, they were both lucky they had survived.

The blast had been sudden, and large, lighting up the sky in a brilliant flash before everything collapsed in on its self, burying the detonator and a few heroes with it. Judging by the fact that Midoriya was in civilian clothing, it looked like he was caught up in the blast. Aizawa’s heart ached for the boy, it was bad enough experiencing these things while on duty, but on a day off was just horrific.

Midoriya’s breath hitched and Aizawa snapped back into the real world, blanching at the sudden re-emergence of his pain.

‘Kid? You still with me?’ he called into the velveteen black that threatened to smother them both. His anxiety spiked when he got no response. ‘Kid?’ he called out a little louder, hoping, praying he would get a response.

‘S-sensei?’ a choked sob, Shouta’s heart clenched, a growing lump in the back of his throat promising anguish at the child’s mournful whimpers.

‘I’m here kid. I’m here. I need you to keep talking to me? You got that?’ Aizawa couldn’t give a reason for the desperation he felt in that moment, he could chalk it up to innate parental instinct in response to hearing such a desolate cry.

‘Okay’ the boy whispered, and Shouta could only listen to the stilted shuffles, betraying the teen’s halting movements. He was about to ask the boy what he was doing when Midoriya broke the silence himself.

‘Sensei?’ Shouta hummed to show he was listening, the sound coming out more breathless than he intended.

‘I lied.’ Shouta couldn’t help the surprised and somewhat confused grunt at the sudden confession.

‘What did you lie about, kid?’ he finally settled on, ignoring the niggling worry in the back of his skull, shifting slightly to try to avoid the sharp stones that were beginning to cut into his back.

‘I’m not fine.’ a sharp intake of breath was Shouta’s only reply. ‘I can’t feel my legs, I can’t breath. My ribs are crushed and I can feel something in my stomach.’ Shouta stubbornly blinked away the tears that had begun to accumulate.

‘Sensei…it hurts’ that simple admission, laden with tears and brutal honesty stole Aizawa’s breath, leaving him choked up and unable to respond.

‘I’m so tired, and I hurt so much!’ the boy was full on sobbing at this point, harsh wheezing accompanying mournful wails, the  plaintive cries of an injured, scared child.

Aizawa wasn’t a parent, he had never wanted to be, but at that particular moment, he would have done anything to whisk the boy away to the safety of his apartment, wrap him in a blanket and promise that he would be okay. As it was, he tried to do the next best thing.

‘I know Midoriya. I know. I’m sorry but you need to stay awake. I’m sacred too and I need you to help me be brave’ he knew he was playing dirty, manipulating the boy’s unhealthy drive to do anything for someone who needed help. At this point though, Shouta didn’t care. If it kept the boy alive and fighting, then it would do for now. They could discuss it once they had been rescued.

As if on cue, a loud crumbling sound echoed through their cramped quarters and Aizawa took a deep breath, unsure if the influx of air was due to the relief he felt hearing voices, or if the pressure on his chest had been lightened some.

He turned his head in the direction he knew Midoriya was lying. ‘Hear that kid? They’re coming for us, we just need to let them know we’re here. Can you hold on for a bit longer?’ he heard a soft sob before a broken ‘yes’ wobbled into the air.

Unwilling to risk using up their precious oxygen supply, well aware that the shifting in the rubble could drastically decrease their already limited amount, he began to tap a rhythm into the metal sheet, the remains of a large sign, the sound echoing in their small pocket and hopefully, out into the rubble for the other heroes to hear as well.

Time passed, Shouta was unsure how much, the only sounds within their shared spaces was the continued, breathless  conversations with Midoriya, each slightly more incoherent, and the repetitive clanging of fists on metal.

It was impossible to tell if the voices of the heroes above the rubble had gotten any louder or closer but the continued sounds of moving rubble and cries of relief whenever they found someone was a comfort to the pair. At least it was to Aizawa, the boy was so delirious it was hard to tell whether he had noticed the noise at all.

A small mumble sounded from the lump Shouta knew was Midoriya and he strained to hear what the boy was trying to say.

He almost wished he hadn’t.

‘S’nsei, m’gnna die.’ it was said without sadness or disbelief, as though Midoriya had accepted this to be the absolute truth.

‘No you won’t kid. You’ve just got to hang on a little longer’ Shouta almost spat the words out, needing them to reach the teen, pleading for him to not give up yet.

‘i d’nt wanna die. S’nsei. G’tta take care f’ma Mum’ Shouta didn’t think his heart could sink any lower. How had he forgotten? Midoriya’s mother was probably out there right now pleading, begging, desperate to know what had happened to her son.

‘You’re not going to die kid. We’re going to be saved, we’ll go to the hospital and get fixed up. You’ll see your Mum again and I’ll take you out to the Cat Coffee place I like and we can talk about what happens. After that, you can go back to working for the number one hero spot.’

‘S’nds nice’ the teen slurred and Shouta could almost picture the small smile that the boy likely wore.

They passed more time talking about what they would do once they were out, or rather, Shouta spoke and Midoriya mumbled out semi-audible repsonses.

All too soon, Aizawa began to feel light headed, sweat gathering on his brow as the pain began to creep further up his legs at a snails pace, leaving scorching trails behind it.

Silence once again swallowed the pocket before it was broken by Shouta’s hushed whisper, ‘if you die kid, it won’t be alone. I’ll wait for you on the other side’. Depsite the heavy words, the air seemed lighter, as though a stifling fear had been lifted.

‘Pr’mise?’ came the pained response, weaker now than it had ever been.

‘I promise’. Shouta risked the movement, stretching out the arm that wasn’t still tapping on the metal towards where he last remembered seeing the boy. His fingers came into contact with something soft and curly, Midoriya’s signature green mop of hair. He began running his fingers through the curls gently, all to aware of the tacky wetness that was caught in knots. He refrained from acknowledging what it was.

‘Sensei?’ boy spoke softly but with such clarity that Shouta paused in his ministrations.

‘Can you light up the room please? I’m scared of the dark’

Unable to deny the teen this one thing, he looked up towards the metal pillar and activated his quirk, giving the area a warm, crimson glow. He felt more than saw the kid relax and a content sigh shifted some dust, creating a mesmerising swirl in the dim light.

‘You know what Sensei?’ Shouta didn’t respond, he didn’t need to, Midoriya knew he was listening, ‘It doesn’t hurt any more’

The tears helped to moisten Shouta’s eyes, allowing him to keep them open for longer than usual, something he was both grateful for, and hated.

He kept the alcove lit for as long as he could, continuing the gentle strokes to messy hair. He carried on even as Midoriya stopped moving, head slowly cooling alongside the rest of his body.

He blinked when the cavern was suddenly lit with not the empty red of his eyes, but the bright white of the midday sun, senses assaulted with noise, colour and light. He hadn’t even heard them get close.

‘Midoriya… see, I told you they’d come soon’. The boy didn’t, couldn’t respond. Shouta allowed his eyes to shut, the last thing he saw was the distraught face of a single mother, her agonised scream following him into unconsciousness. Yet another promise he couldn’t keep.

[mikauzoran]

Marichat/Adrienette: To Waltz Among Shades: Chapter Four

To Waltz Among Shades: Chapter Four: Recalibrating

An hour and a half flew by in a flash as Chat and Marinette studied together.

“See?” Marinette snickered, giving Chat’s bell a flick. “You’re not as hopeless as you made yourself out to be. You’re smart, Chat Noir. You’ve got this. It’s probably just Professor Keller’s teaching style or her accent or something.”

“I’m betting on ‘something’,” he snorted as he finished writing down the mnemonic she’d taught him on one of the pages of loose-leaf she’d given him for taking notes. “and that ‘something’ is the fact that I’ve been a little busy trying to recover from a mental breakdown this past year,” he joked…but then realized that that wasn’t funny.

The spell between them broke as they were both reminded that they weren’t just Minou and Princess anymore. There was Adrien whose family was dead or in jail and Ladybug who had helped them all get there. There was Chat Noir who accidentally caused his father’s death and Marinette who couldn’t do anything as her friend’s life spun wildly out of control.

“Sorry,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure why he whispered. It just felt like the right tone of voice for the fragility of the word, the way he was feeling.

“It’s okay,” Marinette reciprocated down to the volume level. “Me too. I’m sorry too. I—”

“—Marinette!” Sabine called up from the bottom of the stairs. “Dinner!”

The two blinked at one another for a minute, completely thrown by the interruption.

Chat looked away first. His gaze dropped to the notes he’d taken as he stood and began to fold them up. “I should go. Thank you for letting me take up so much of your time.”

Marinette rose to her feet, reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm. “Chat Noir…I…It was no trouble. I enjoyed studying with you. We should…do it again next week?”

He looked up at her in complete bafflement. “What? Really?”

She withdrew her hand, looking down and to the side and blushing madly. “If that’s something you’re comfortable with. I’d be happy to have you.”

“You would?” Chat gaped at her, still caught up in total astonishment. “You’d be comfortable with that?”

She nodded shyly, forcing herself to look him in the eye. “You don’t make me uncomfortable. Not truly. I mean, awkward and frazzled, yes, but…not actually uncomfortable…. Do you feel uncomfortable around me?”

He shook his head. “Just…nervous. A little out of my element, but not uncomfortable.”

“Oh.” Her face lit up in a dazzling smile as her cheeks supplied contrast in a warm, rosy hue. “Good. That’s…I’m really, really glad to hear that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled giddily, a grin forming on his own lips. “Me too. I thought that that was why you’d been avoiding me. I thought…”

“No!” She shook her head violently, waving her arms too for good measure. “No! Not at all. I was trying to stay out of your way because I thought that I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, Princess,” he assured in a soft, verbal caress.

“Oh,” she whispered, eyes slowly tracing over his facial features, letting herself truly look at him. “…Oh, Minou…”

“Marinette!” Sabine called again.

“Stay for dinner,” Marinette blurted out, catching Chat by the hands. “Have you eaten?”

He froze, trying to recollect.

His stomach let out an audible gurgle, and Chat winced as he remembered.

“Not…today, actually.”

Marinette’s eyes went wide in concern and surprise.

“I had dinner with Nino last night, but today…” He looked away. “Today is Wednesday—fend for myself day—and I was kind of worked up about coming over to talk to you tonight, so I just…didn’t feel like eating.”

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” she inquired gently, trying not to pressure him.

He bit his lip and shrugged. “I mean…kind of? I sometimes have dinner with the Couffaines, and that’s usually okay, but…it might be a little overwhelming. I don’t know what Luka and Nino have shared with you about my current emotional state, but sometimes I burst into tears, so…I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable if it turns out it’s too much.”

“Chat Noir, it’s fine,” she protested. “My parents and I wouldn’t mind. I don’t want to say we understand because we probably have no clue, but…we won’t be uncomfortable or think less of you for crying. So…Unless you feel uncomfortable crying in front of people.”

He shook his head and looked up to smile at her sadly. “I’ve kind of gotten used to looking ridiculous in front of other people. I’m not really self-conscious as much as I’m afraid of making other people feel uncomfortable and for that discomfort to push them away.”

Marinette nodded, giving his hands a squeeze. “You don’t have to worry about that here. I’ve had to forbid them from bothering you, otherwise they would have been in your face, making a nuisance of themselves from day one,” she snorted. 

That statement struck Chat to the core. He realized that Marinette probably thought she was helping by giving him space and keeping her parents out of his way as he had struggled to pick himself out of the rubble that had been his life when it collapsed on top of him, but…the truth was, he could have used the help and support. Tom and Sabine had always been like surrogate parents to both Adrien and Chat Noir. To lose them and Marinette AND Ladybug all at once while simultaneously trying to make sense of a world that had turned upside-down in a matter of minutes had been crippling. 

“They mean well,” Marinette continued, not noting his heavy silence. “but they’re a little intense. I mean…you remember when my father thought I liked you. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that it’s fine. No one is going to care if you start crying. My parents would be happy to have you if you want to have dinner with us.”

Chat bit his lip. “Do you happen to know what you’re having?”

She nodded, breaking into a smile at the indication of his interest. “The main dish is shrimp stir fry. The side dishes are all meatless. How strong is your stomach feeling today? Do you think you can do shrimp? I seem to remember that being something you actually liked before…uh…” Her face blanched as she trailed off.

“…The accident,” he tentatively supplied, waiting for her to scoff and accuse him of killing his father.

She nodded, eagerly latching onto the expression, relieved that he hadn’t couched it in terms such as “the day you let my father die”.

“Or, if you can’t do seafood right now, Luka and I have been cooking together a lot. We’ve been working on healthy, balanced, vegetarian dishes, and I have plenty of leftovers from our experiments in the fridge: cashew tofu curry, veggie tikka masala…I’ve got dal, kidney bean and sweet potato stew…”

Chat’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in shock. “Wait…. You…You’ve been cooking for me? I thought it was just Luka.”

Marinette bit her lip and shrugged. “Well…at first it was just Luka and Nino working together to try to keep you fed, but…Luka was getting really stressed about you not eating, so…I started researching and talking with Mylène—you know, she’s studying to be a pediatrician, so she’s taken a lot of courses in nutrition—and I kind of worked to come up with some recipes Luka and I could make together for you, so—oh!”

Marinette gasped as Chat Noir pulled her into a crushing hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair, voice weak and wavering as he fought back tears. “Thank you for still caring about me.”

Marinette quickly got over her surprise and wrapped her own arms around him. “Oh, Chaton…. Of course…of course…. You’re my partner and my friend. I’ll never stop caring about you…if that’s okay?”

He nodded, too choked up to reply at first. “…Yeah. More than just being okay, I think I really needed to hear that. This whole time I thought—”

A loud knock came at the trapdoor, startling the two apart.

“Marinette? Did you hear me, Honey?” Sabine called again, concern in her voice.

“Sorry, Maman! I had my music on,” Marinette called back. “Down in a minute.”

Then she turned to Chat and lowered her voice. “Would you want to join us?”

Chat swallowed and nodded.

“Hey, Maman?” Marinette raised her voice once more. “I’ve actually got a friend over to study for Business. Can he stay for dinner, pretty please?”

“Of course, Dear,” Sabine chuckled. “Hurry down before it gets cold.”

“Thanks, Maman!” Marinette turned back to Chat. “Ready?”

Chat bit the inside of his cheek. “Do you think it’d be better to go as Chat or Adrien?”

Marinette pursed her lips. “Whichever way you feel more comfortable…but…I’m sure they’d be relieved to see Adrien doing well. It’d be easier to explain if you got overwhelmed too. It’s your decision, though.”

Chat’s brow creased as he weighed the pros and cons. “I kind of feel safer as Chat. It’s kind of like—well, it literally is—armor…but…I guess I don’t need armor here after all.”

Marinette shook her head. “You’re safe, Minou.”

Chat closed his eyes. “Detransformation.”

Marinette sucked in a sharp breath as the transformation dissipated, leaving her long-time crush in baggy cargo pants and a Kitty Section band tee.

She barely noticed as Plagg flew off to find Tikki.

The kwami’s magic had hidden how washed out Adrien’s complexion had become, and the mask covered the reddish-purple smudges under Adrien’s eyes. He looked sick and faded.

Adrien opened his eyes, and the once-shiny peridot pools looked dim.

She could feel her heart cracking in her chest, breaking for the pale shadow of his former self that Adrien had become. She resolved then and there to do more for him now that she knew her actions wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome, now that she knew he wouldn’t spurn her and push her away.

“Hi, Marinette,” Adrien whispered self-consciously.

“Hi, Adrien,” she giggled, a warm smile settling onto her lips and sinking into her voice. “It’s good to see you.”

He let a watery laugh escape as he looked away and raised a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Glad you think so. I’m still debating whether or not it’s good to be seen. I know I look awful.”

Marinette reached out and gave his arm a companionable brush with two of her knuckles. “You wear ‘awful’ pretty well. It’s like back in the eighties and nineties when it was fashionable to look like a heroin addict.”

Adrien let out a snort of surprised laughter. “Well, I didn’t think I looked quite that bad.”

Marinette covered her face with a hand and groaned, “I didn’t mean to say that you look like a heroin addict.”

Adrien smirked, snickering, “I see that you still suffer from foot-in-mouth syndrome, just like back when you had that massive crush on me in collège.”

Marinette smacked him on the arm as she looked away, her shoulders rising to her ears. “Geez. Stupid cat.”

Adrien placatingly put up his hands. “Sorry. Low blow, I know, reminding you of your past bad judgment before you met Luka.”

“That wasn’t bad judgment, Adrien,” Marinette sighed, meeting his gaze.

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes.

“It wasn’t,” she insisted. “…Bad judgment is you wearing a jacket like that in summer.”

Another bout of laughter caught Adrien by surprise.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and pretended to whine, “Well, I wasn’t planning on detransforming, was I? I was just going to be here for three minutes. The jacket is like a security blanket, so sue me.” He stuck out his tongue.

Marinette rolled her eyes, inspecting the fluffy, cotton jacket with its fake fur lining the hood and collar. “Well, it’s a nice jacket, even if it is too hot to be wearing one that heavy. I picked out one just like it for Luka when he retired his old one.”

Adrien tensed.

Marinette’s brow furrowed as she caught sight of a slight defect on the right sleeve. She seized Adrien’s arm and brought the mended tear in the sleeve closer for inspection. “This is from the time I stole Luka’s jacket and accidentally got it snagged on my sewing machine. This is Luka’s jacket.”

Adrien grimaced. “Is now a bad time to mention that I occasionally steal your boyfriend’s clothes?”

Marinette gave a snort, releasing Adrien’s arm and rolling her eyes as she replied wryly, “And I bet he really gets off on seeing you in them.”

“It’s not like that between us,” Adrien rushed to assure. “He’s not cheating on you. We’re just friends. Close,” Adrien clarified, “but just friends.”

Marinette laughed again, halfway between amused and annoyed. “You are still as oblivious as ever, Beau Gosse…and Luka’s not cheating on me because he has my permission.”

Adrien’s mouth dropped open. He tried to formulate some kind of response to those assertions, but she cut him off with a kind smile and a tug on his arm.

“Come on. Let’s head downstairs so that my parents can fuss over and feed you.”

With a nod, Adrien silently followed, pushing down all the thoughts that were swirling around in his head to consider later when he was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep in the wake of all the discoveries of the past two hours.

“Maman, Papa, look who’s here,” Marinette called as they descended the narrow steps into the living/dining/kitchen area.

Tom’s eyes went wide, and Sabine gasped, bringing her hands up to her mouth. Both of them broke out into wide grins.

“Adrien!” Tom reached him first, scooping him up and spinning him around, all while crushing him in a fierce hug. “Good to see you, Son. You’ve been missed around here.”

“Th-Thanks,” Adrien croaked out, partially due to the force behind Tom’s hug but mostly due to emotion. “I’ve…I’ve missed you guys too.”

“Tom, put him down and let the rest of us have a turn,” Sabine scolded impatiently.

“You’re just jealous that I got to him first,” Tom guffawed but set Adrien down gently and released him regardless.

“You better believe I’m jealous,” his wife scoffed, taking an unresisting Adrien by the hand and tugging him over to the couch. “Sit,” she instructed. “You’re too tall.”

Adrien obeyed easily and found himself pulled into Sabine’s arms, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as she pet his hair and held him tight.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” she cooed. “We’ve missed you so much.”

Adrien wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder as he burst into tears. “S-S-Sorry,” he choked.

“No,” Sabine soothed. “None of that, Darling. You go ahead and cry. It’s all right. Isn’t that right, Tom?”

Tom came over to rub a meaty hand up and down Adrien’s back. “You go right ahead and cry, Son,” he urged in the gentle tone he had used when Marinette was little and woke up from a nightmare. “We’ll be here when you’re done.”

At that, the floodgates opened, and Adrien began to cry all the harder. It only lasted a little less than five minutes, though, and Adrien came back to himself and pulled away.

“Thanks,” he whispered, voice thick.

Tom gave him an encouraging pat on the head while Sabine took his face in her hands, wiping away tears with her thumbs.

“Oh, Xiao Mao,” she sighed. “We only wish we could do more for you.”

Adrien smiled bashfully, making eye contact with Tom and then Sabine. “I’ve really appreciated the care packages you’ve sent with Nino and Luka. Just knowing that you were thinking about me, that you cared…that was really big for me, so thank you.”

“Marinette said you needed some space,” Tom broached the subject warily. “and that we couldn’t come storm your apartment. Has that rule changed?”

“Because I’ve been on her for a year now to let you know that we’d be happy to help with whatever you needed—help with laundry or cleaning your apartment or cooking or anything at all really, if you just wanted people to eat meals with,” Sabine paused to cast a meaningful glare at her daughter.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Maman.”

Adrien couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m…good for the most part. Luka and Nino helped with the practical stuff to keep me alive. Between those two and Chloé, there’s usually someone storming my apartment, so I think I’m covered on those grounds—Not that I don’t seriously appreciate the offer.”

Tom and Sabine both nodded, assuring, “Of course. Of course.”

Adrien bit his lip. “Though…I think I would like to join you for meals sometimes…if that’s okay?”

Sabine squealed in delight, clapping her hands.

Tom gave Adrien a solid thump on the back. “You’re welcome whenever you want, Son. Our door is always open to you.”

Adrien apprehensively turned his gaze on Marinette over in the kitchen. “Is that something you’d be okay with, Marinette?”

Her eyes widened, and she put down the scraps of paper napkin she’d absentmindedly been shredding. “Adrien, I want you here whenever you want to be here. Like, I don’t even have to be home, if you ever want to just stop by. I’m so sorry that me trying to give you space made you think you weren’t welcome here.”

Adrien opened his mouth to respond, but only a stunned, “Oh” came out.

“…Well,” Sabine spoke up after the silence had stretched a bit too long to be comfortable. “At least we’ve got the misunderstanding sorted out now. Adrien is welcome here whenever he likes. Now, let’s hurry up and feed this poor boy. He’s too skinny.”

Before Adrien could really regain his mental footing, he was being marched over to the table by Sabine.

 Dinner was actually a pleasant affair. After his initial emotional moment, Adrien didn’t feel as overwhelmed by the situation. There were certain points that made him feel sad or had him longing for a family like Marinette’s, but it was far more manageable than Adrien had originally anticipated.

After the meal, Adrien and Marinette helped with cleanup so that Tom and Sabine could get to bed at a decent hour to be up to open the bakery the following day. They said their goodbyes, and Adrien received round after round of hugs as Sabine and Tom admonished him to take care of himself and not be a stranger.

“Your phone numbers are still the same?” Adrien verified.

The Dupain-Chengs all nodded.

“I had to change mine after the…” Adrien’s face went ashen. “…uh…death threats, but…”

The Dupain-Chengs collectively gasped.

Adrien waved his hands. “Chloé and Luka and Nino took care of it. It wasn’t… Well… It wasn’t not a big deal, but…” Adrien shook his head. “But I’ll call you guys maybe next week sometime, and maybe we can have dinner together again?”

“Definitely,” Sabine assured.

“Whenever you want,” Tom added.

“And maybe you could come over a little early and we can all cook together,” Marinette suggested hesitantly. “Only if you want, though. No pressure. Luka mentioned that you like to help cook, so…”

Adrien nodded, a thrill of excitement going through him at being included. He’d always enjoyed helping out at the Couffaines’. “That would be fun, actually…. Maybe when I’m having one of my good days. Sometimes being around other people is too much, but…that would be nice.”

“We are always happy to have you,” Sabine insisted, giving Adrien another hug before she and Tom headed down to their bedroom to turn in for the night.

Marinette and Adrien finished cleaning up and then headed back to Marinette’s room so that Adrien could collect Plagg.

Adrien cleared his throat, feeling awkward as he watched Marinette offer Plagg a cheese tart and Tikki a chocolate chip cookie. “I should get going…but thank you for everything tonight. Helping with Business and having me for dinner and everything.”

“Of course! It was really great to see you,” Marinette exclaimed, turning back to face him with a brilliant smile. “Please do call when you feel up to it. I’d like to study with you and have dinner again…maybe be friends again? Hang out?” She hopefully put the suggestion out there.

His eyes widened. “I…uh… Yeah. I would like that…if that’s something you want?”

She nodded, expression earnest. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Adrien didn’t understand. Did she just pity him, or…? Did Marinette really want him back in her life? She didn’t hate him? Had she forgiven him for what had happened? Did she believe that he hadn’t known about his father? Had she really been avoiding him this whole time solely because she didn’t want to remind him of the accident? Was the past year only a misunderstanding after all?

“I…I’ll think about it,” Adrien decided. “I don’t…I’d like that, but…I mean, I’m sure Nino and Luka have told you what a mess I am. Some days I’m fine. Other days I…I can’t function. I’m not able to be around people, and…”

Adrien looked down at his feet. “Things are kind of complicated with you.”

Marinette nodded, biting her lip and forcing herself to accept where he was and what he felt able to do. “Okay.”

He shook his head. “I mean…I really loved you for a long time.” He peeked up at her, and Marinette couldn’t contain a small gasp.

“Both of you,” Adrien clarified. “Even after Marinette started dating Luka and even after Ladybug told me to stop hoping because she had a boyfriend, so…I have a lot of complicated feelings I need to untangle about you. Sorry.”

He looked down at her feet, his cheeks beginning to blaze grenadine. “I want to say yes, but…I don’t know if I’m healthy enough for things to go back to the way they were before—if that’s even what you want. I need…I need to talk to my therapist about all this. I’ve been so busy dealing with-with—you know—this past year that I haven’t really gotten to…dealing with my feelings for Marinette and Ladybug much.”

Marinette hesitantly stepped forward and took one of his hands in both of hers. “It’s okay. Do whatever’s best for you, okay? I’ll…I’ll be here…if and when you’re ready. …The most important thing is for you to be healthy and happy, Adrien.”

He looked her in the eye, studying her expression, trying to read the truth. He found only sincerity in her features. He nodded. “Thanks.”

She squeezed his hand and let go.

He gave her a small, uncertain smile and then called on Plagg to transform him.

“Thanks again, Princess,” Chat chuckled with a wink, feeling much more secure with his mask on. “I can see myself out.”

He turned to head up the ladder, but she caught him by the tail.

“W-Wait!”

Chat let out a startled, “Gck!” and then a groan. “Marinette, you have got to stop doing that.”

“Sorry!” she yelped, letting go of the belt. “Sorry. I just…remembered that you said you came here to ask me a favour. What was it?”

Chat tensed, swallowed, and steeled himself for her rejection. “So…this chain of events is going to sound a little odd, but just go with it. My therapist has been trying to work with me on letting go of some of the emotional baggage from my past, and Luka brought over a keyboard the other week because he thought it would help if I started to play again because I want to, and, I mean, music therapy is a thing, so…I was thinking, music has always helped me work out my feelings in the past, so maybe it would be good if I had a private piano recital where I played some pieces about the things I’m working through,” Adrien spit out in one breath and then pushed onward before she could interrupt. “I know just playing songs isn’t going to fix things, but maybe getting some of that emotion out will finally help me find some peace with my parents and what happened and-and me and all of that, so…I think doing the recital will help me feel better, so I want to do it. For the first time, I really want to do something just for me.”

He stopped and looked at her, still feeling coiled like a spring.

Marinette slowly began to nod. “That’s… Yes. Yes. You should definitely do that if you think it will help. I’m really happy you feel so passionately about this. This is really good, Minou…. What do need my help with?”

He gulped. “The Fox Miraculous.”

Marinette blinked several times, confusion slowly flowing over her face. “The Fox Miraculous?”

Chat winced. “I’d kind of like it to be more than just me playing the piano. If I could use Trixx’s illusionary magic to add a visual component…kind of like those multimedia light shows they do at Disney,” he explained. 

Marinette kept nodding, her mouth forming a little “o” as understanding came into her eyes.

Chat rushed to add, “I know it’s a little over the top, but… And I know my family has a bad track record regarding abuse of Miraculouses, so I’d understand if you don’t trust me.”

“What?” Marinette choked.

“But I swear I won’t do anything bad. I promise I didn’t know anything about what Father and Nathalie were doing, and I would never—”

“—Adrien!” Marinette cut him off, taking him by the shoulders. “Look at me.”

He did, his eyes full of confusion and anxiety, borderline fear.

Her expression, however, spoke of distress and determination with a good dose of compassion. “I know. …I know what kind of person you are, Adrien.”

He blinked, not certain he’d really heard her. “You…do?”

“Yes,” she responded vehemently. “Adrien, yes.” She paused, confusion turning to clarity. “…You didn’t hear the speech I gave the other day, did you?”

He gaped at her, feeling completely off balance. “Speech?”

Marinette shook her head. “Ladybug. The other day at the…the anniversary celebration.”

“O-Oh. No, I…” He forced himself to swallow and take a breath. “I was kind of hiding out with Luka, trying to pretend that I didn’t exist.”

With a wan smile, she gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Maybe, if you feel up to it sometime…look it up. I’m sure it’s on the Ladyblog or YouTube.” Marinette released her hold and went over to the phonograph set on top of her trunk. 

At the press of some buttons, the phonograph opened up to reveal the Miracle Box.

In a series of quick, succinct movements, Marinette retrieved the Fox Miraculous and shut the whole thing down again. She was back by his side in less than thirty seconds, holding out the octagonal box.

“How long do you think you’ll need him?” She tried to make her tone light and friendly, as, obviously, Adrien still had some misgivings about where the two stood in relation to one another.

Chat took the box with shaking hands and carefully tucked it into his left pocket. “A week…maybe two at the longest,” he informed. “I promise I’ll let you know if it will be longer than two weeks. I’m kind of hesitating right now, trying to get up my courage to just do it, but…”

She nodded, placing a reassuring hand on his upper arm. “It’s okay. Take as long as you need. Just give it back when you’re ready…or give it to Nino to return, if that’s easier.”

Chat frowned. “Not Luka?”

Marinette winced. “He doesn’t know about Ladybug.”

The lines on Chat’s forehead deepened. “You told Nino but not the guy you’re in love with?” His tone was more puzzled than accusing, but there was definitely some judgment in his voice.

Marinette shrank, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest. “Nino figured it out when we were fifteen; I didn’t tell him. And Luka doesn’t need to know. He’s safer if no one knows that they could get to Ladybug through him. I know we were never on the same page about identity reveals, but I love him too much to put him at risk.”

“The threat is gone, isn’t it?” Chat asked uncomprehendingly.

Marinette met his gaze once more. “There are still crazy fans and regular bad guys. There are people out there who could get it into their heads to try to use my powers to cause harm, and if someone like that were to try to use Luka against me…”

Chat shuddered, imagining himself in that hypothetical situation. “Okay. I get it. I don’t think it’s fair to have a secret like that from him, but…I can understand your line of reasoning, Milady. …Besides, it’s none of my business.”

Marinette bit her lip. “Not completely. I wouldn’t say it has nothing to do with you, but…thank you for keeping an open mind, Chaton.”

He smiled weakly, giving her arm a companionable pat before turning once more towards the ladder. “Thanks for hearing me out, and thank you for all your help.”

“Of course,” she repeated for what felt like the dozenth time, knowing she’d repeat it as many times as he needed to hear it. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?—But only when you’re feeling up to it. No pressure.”

Her flustered rush finally got a genuine fond smile out of him. “Take care, Meinu. It was good to see you.”

“Likewise,” she hummed happily, warmed by his peaceful expression as he bounded up the ladder and leapt through the skylight, making his way back across town to his apartment.

 Chat hopped down from his window into the great room. Removing the box holding the Fox Miraculous from his pocket and setting it down on the coffee table, he called off his transformation, and Adrien Agreste sank onto the couch face down.

Plagg landed on top of Adrien’s head and gently began to run his paw back and forth over Adrien’s hair, purring softly in an attempt to comfort his kitten.

They stayed like that for nearly twenty minutes, allowing Adrien time to attempt to assimilate the knowledge he’d gained and try to adapt.

“Kid?” Plagg softly broke into the silence. “You should probably call somebody.”

“I don’t want to bother Nino. He’s with Alya,” Adrien mumbled, raising his head a bit so that his words wouldn’t be garbled into the couch cushion.

“All right,” Plagg agreed, flying in to pull Adrien’s phone out of his back pocket. “Let’s call Luka.”

“No,” Adrien groaned, rolling over onto his side and reaching for the phone. “He’s probably with Marinette now that I’m not monopolizing her.”

Plagg gave a snort, setting the phone down on the coffee table and unlocking it, pulling up Adrien’s texts with Luka. “You don’t know that.”

“Do too,” Adrien grumbled.

Plagg rolled his eyes, typing out, “Hey, Orpheus. What are you up to?”

“Plagg,” Adrien hissed.

“Hush,” the kwami chided. “I’m not typing mushy stuff like you do. I’m soliciting information. The use of the nickname lends my message the feel of authenticity.”

Adrien blew out a snort and rolled back over, pillowing his arms and resting his forehead on top. “He’s busy.”

“Oh?” Plagg snickered. “He says that the bar he usually plays at burned down last night, so he has the whole night off.”

Adrien’s ears perked up. He raised his head, blinking in confusion, eyes filled with hope. “Really?—Hey. What are you typing?”

“I’m writing suggestive messages inviting him over so you two can finally work out the sexual tension between you,” Plagg replied matter-of-factly.

“Plagg!” Adrien lunged for the phone.

On the screen, Adrien found only: “Could you come over? I’m having a rough night, and I need you.”

Adrien glared at Plagg.

Plagg shrugged. “I never said that the messages were explicit. I mean, I didn’t specify what you needed him for, but, to my understanding of human courting rituals, ‘needing’ someone could imply ‘need to mate’. …I’m not sure he’s read that meaning into the words, though.”

Adrien’s phone dinged with Luka’s answer: “b there in ten angel”.

“You’re welcome,” Plagg huffed, going off to fetch a wheel of Brie from the fridge. “It’s up to you now to get his pants off.”

“Plagg!” Adrien hissed again, despite knowing his protests were useless.

 True to his word, Luka was at Adrien’s apartment ten minutes later.

“Hey, P5,” he cooed, caressing Adrien’s face as his eyes skimmed over the boy he adored, assessing the damage. “What’s up?”

Adrien grimaced, picking up on the anxiety thinly coating Luka’s voice. “Sorry. I’m fine. Plagg was the one who texted you.”

Luka’s carefully neutral expression shifted into a frown. “He must have had some reason to text me, right? He doesn’t usually interfere unless he feels like he needs to.”

Adrien pulled Luka into a hug so that he could hide his expression. He didn’t feel capable of keeping up a good poker face at the moment.

“I’m fine. Just a little confused and overwhelmed,” Adrien whispered into Luka’s shoulder.

“You should take him into the bedroom so you can snuggle and groom each other,” Plagg suggested helpfully from the kitchen island where he had an assortment of cheeses spread out around him like subjects paying homage to their lord.

“Plagg,” Adrien groaned. “Humans don’t groom one another.”

“Do too,” Plagg snorted. “You forget I’ve been around for thousands of years, Kid. I’ve lived with plenty of humans. I’ve witnessed humans licking each other all over before.”

“Plagg, that’s not grooming,” Adrien hissed, burying his face further into Luka’s shirt.

“Oh?” Plagg played dumb, doing his best not to smirk impishly. “Well, whatever it is, maybe you two should go do that. My previous holders have always been so happy afterwards, and Adrien could definitely use some cheering up and affection.”

“Shh,” Luka comforted, lightly rubbing a hand up and down Adrien’s back. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t bother me.”

Luka looked back into the kitchen at Plagg. “Plagg, why did you think Adrien needed me?”

Plagg shrugged. “Kid, tell him who all you just had dinner with.”

Luka pulled back slightly to look Adrien questioningly in the face.

Adrien shrank, his gaze dropping to the floor. “…Marinette and her parents.”

Luka sucked in a breath. “O-Oh? How-How did that go? Are you okay? What happened?”

Adrien shook his head. “I’m just…feeling a little messed up. It…everything was totally fine. It was…like…” He pressed his lips together, trying to force his thoughts into a cohesive sentence. “Like you were right. Like everything was just a big misunderstanding and nobody hates me, nobody blames me, and…”

He pulled Luka back into his arms, curling his fingers into Luka’s shirt.

“Angel, of course no one hates you,” Luka sighed, nuzzling Adrien’s hair and squeezing him tighter.

“I didn’t believe you,” Adrien choked, tears finally beginning to fall as his whole body trembled. “I…I couldn’t believe you. And even though Marinette doesn’t hate me, she still abandoned me when I really, really needed her, so it’s not like things are okay now.—Or am I being stupid and petty? Should I just get over it? I can’t just…” Adrien shook his head, looking to Luka for guidance. “I’m not okay. I feel better now that I talked to her, but I’m not okay. I can’t force myself to just forgive and forget and be okay. Is that ridiculous?”

“No, Angel,” Luka cooed, giving Adrien another squeeze. “Nothing that you’re feeling is ridiculous. It’s okay to feel whatever you feel,” he assured.

“Sorry.” Adrien rested his head back on Luka’s shoulder. “I…I’m not okay. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Perfect Fifth,” Luka whispered, making gentle shushing noises and carefully rocking Adrien from side to side. “It’s fine. Hey, let’s go get in bed so we can snuggle and talk about it…or maybe just snuggle and watch Disney movies until you feel better. What do you think? Rapunzel? Frozen? Both?”

“Both,” Adrien mumbled into Luka’s neck. “Tangled first.”

“All right, Angel,” Luka acquiesced, giving Adrien one last squeeze before beginning to guide him to the bedroom. “It’s going to be all right.”

[dabis-azure-songstress]

AU Where Shinju Is A Villain and Quirk Awakening

Warning: Extreme violence, anger, language

This writing stems from the thought of what if Shinju actually turned villain and was on the same side as her love interest Dabi? What if the one who killed her brother wasn’t actually a villain after all?

Tagging: @strawberryandspiceandchocolate

There was a sharp gasp followed by rough coughs for breath as Shigaraki forced the female’s cheek into the dirt. Shigaraki situated himself carefully and sat in the middle of her back. “Now, let’s have a little chat, Shinju Kurokawa. Right now, I see you as more of an asset and that’s the only reason this chat is even taking place. Just then I could have completely turned you to nothing but dust. Don’t you want to know what really happened to that darling little brother of yours that you absolutely treasured like your own child?”

Tears immediately forced themselves into Shinju’s eyes and she grit her teeth roughly. “True, but even so! How would you know anything about him!?”

“Oh, I’ve noticed you and all that delicious power. I had one of my men run a multitude of checks on you when I found out about poor dear little Hino. It wasn’t our intentions at first, but I think you’ll be interested in what we’ve discovered! I have the file if you want to look at it.” Shigaraki smirked as he watched the woman below him squirm softly.

She didn’t think she could trust him, but her damn curiosity was getting the better of her. “P-please...I-if you have anything that wasn’t already made available.”

“Oh, of course. One little eensy weensy deal first. I give you the file and you cease fighting me or I’ll disintegrate you.” Shigaraki laughed.

Shinju nodded and shook as the weight left her back. Shakily, she pulled herself up onto her elbows and glanced up at the silvery-blue haired man. “D-deal.” Shigaraki grinned at her as he pulled the plain looking folder from his overcoat. “You aren’t lying to me...?”

“Oh, now why would I do that little hero? The truth will bring you far greater pain than I ever could. Just see for yourself.”

Shinju reached for the folder and flipped it open, quivering and eyes immediately scanning the page. Only one sentence stood out. ‘During the villain attack, Hino, 13 and quirk-less, was presumed to be dead by cause of an extreme fire quirk with bright red flames before they even engulfed the entire building.’ The female blanched.

“Y-y’mean...?”

“Right. Who is the only person you know who has flames that bright? Isn’t he also an extremely crooked hero? I know you aren’t stupid from the intel Dabi has gathered on you.”

Shinju began to fall apart as the dread in her stomach caused her to get sick and break down. “You promised your brother to be a hero, but weren’t you also still planning on gaining revenge for him? You know you can’t actually kill anyone just being a hero.”

Shinju choked on her sobs as she pulled herself to her knees slowly. “Enough of that god-awful wailing. I’m extending you a most generous offer, Electro-Dancer. Join us and in doing so, kill that blasted hero who struck down your poor little brother in cold blood.”

Shinju pulled herself to her feet, wobbly, and gripped onto Shigaraki’s gloved hand. “Deal.”

——

Dabi stares at the sight of his girlfriend as she enters the hideout for the first time. Her eyes meet his and she already senses all the questions behind them without him even revealing. “Well, well. What happened here? Where’d you get this doll face, crusty?” Shigaraki’s fingers twitched dangerously. “I recruited her. I just brought some crucial information to her attention that she wasn’t even aware existed.”

“Shigaraki...isn’t it? Will you...let me keep that file?”

“Hah! Why not? I’ve already figured out all I need to and you’re no longer a threat.”

Dabi eyes them observantly as Shigaraki’s hand passes the folder over and Shigaraki begins heading towards his quarters. “Dabi, handle filling her in on our objectives.”

He moved closer to the female as she was glancing around cautiously. “He really recruited you? I’ve been somewhat trying to do that for a while now. How exactly did he do it? I want answers from you, doll. Especially when you told me that villains killing your brother was the biggest reason you decided to become a Pro.”

Shinju clenched her fists as she avoided the gaze of her fiery boyfriend. “...He did. And he revealed something about my little brother’s death that also ties into your past, as well, Dabs.” She passed the file over softly and Dabi flipped it open.

She knew when he found the part she had by the way his eyes widened slightly. “You mean to tell me...”

“Yes.”

“Bastard’s even more fucking crooked than I thought. Now, we should get you into some better fitting clothes, doll.” Dabi smirked and began to pull her to his room.

After the outfit change, Shinju was dressed in black distressed jeans, a ripped and torn low hanging white T-shirt, and a royal purple leather jacket with a black lightning bolt on the back. She paired it with a pair of platformed combat boots and Toga absolutely fangirled over the change. “Wow, Dabi! She looks so much better like that!”

Shigaraki soon paired Dabi and Shinju together, figuring it’d be easier to put Shinju with his pretty much second-in-command. They trained long and hard for weeks that turned to months. The two even did quite a few more minor missions together. It wasn’t long after that that the call on Dabi’s burner phone came through. “What is it?” Dabi answered.

Shinju stared at her boyfriend as the usually calm and slower moving Dabi turned to her at a rapid pace and was smiling so deviously the staples on his cheeks were nearly ripping apart and revealing the muscle and tendons of his cheeks below. “We’ve got trouble. And guess who’s with them? It’s our chance! Don’t let me down, Shinju.” She smirks brightly at him in response. “I promise, Dabi.”

When they arrived on the scene, Twice and Shigaraki were having a bit of trouble handling multiple heroes including Endeavor. Dabi was quick to cut him off with violent walls of blue flame. “Well, well, well, nice to meet you again...Enji Todoroki.” Dabi’s tone took on a much darker sound of teasing. Endeavor was getting ready to respond with a growl when he noticed the shorter woman next to one of the LoV.

“Hey! Weren’t you my son’s friend!?”

Shinju smirked as she let out a maniacal chortle. “Oh, pops. I was. See, I know about every single fucking thing you put your poor children through. How you treated your poor “wife” like some breeding sow for the “perfect” offspring. I also know something even more corrupt about you now, Endeavor. I was a pro hero that’s turned into a villain just so I can end your pathetic life! What you have done to me and your family is unforgivable and I’m going to make you PAY for every single bit of it, you fucking piece of shit!!!”

Dabi stared at her in slight shock as he watched her begin to unhinge. She’d never seemed so violent in front of him. “W-what are you talking about, you despicable bitch!?” It was Dabi’s turn for his temper to flare up.

“Hey! Don’t you call her that. She has a pretty good reason just like I do for wanting to completely rip you off your pedestal.”

“YOU KILLED MY LITTLE BROTHER! AND LET SOMEONE ELSE TAKE THE BLAME!!! YOU KILLED AN INNOCENT QUIRK-LESS THIRTEEN YEAR OLD!”

Dabi felt his hair stand on end before he even heard the telltale crackling of Shinju’s periwinkle lightning as she stalked toward the Pro Hero. She was crying and shaking violently as the largest bolt of lightning he’d ever seen shot from her hands and almost blinded him. “C’mon Endeavor! FIGHT US, DAMMIT!!!” she screamed. “I’ve made the trouble of making the first move so you can beg self defense.”

“Hey, dammit! Get a hold of yourself!” Dabi growled as he quickly blocked an incoming Jetburn barreling straight for them with a two-handed azure flame of his own. There was no use. His girlfriend had really lost it and it fell on deaf ears. Another quick shot of lightning and Endeavor caused an explosion when the fire met.

“FUCK!” Dabi cursed loudly as he tried to take cover. He was too far from Shinju to drag her with him. When he lifted his head again, he blanched slightly at the scene in front of him. There was so much rubble everywhere and dust still trying to settle. He coughed and dusted himself off as he turned back to the scene.

His girlfriend was swaying, clothes completely torn and tattered and soaking with blood. Endeavor fired a Prominence Burn and he quickly forced himself, in front of her. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it on his own and closed his eyes as he braced himself for the heat of the blow. He pushed his hands out and did his best to fire off the largest and hottest flame he could manage, to the point he felt his skin start to peel back from his staples and the pain caused him to hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, he felt heat against his back and arms around his sides that held their hands a bit below his. Shinju panted roughly against his shoulder-blades as he heard the crackle of her lightning flare to life. Another extremely bright shot of lightning burst forth from her and sent explosions traveling down the length of his flames as the lightning danced unpredictably against them. Even the Prominence Burn was overwhelmed from the combined effort and soon dazzled out as the explosions continued hurtling through it.

Endeavor almost didn’t make it out of the way in time. Dark clouds slowly began to roll in as Shinju began to slowly slump against Blue Flame’s back. “Amazing...” he muttered as her arms dropped from around him. He watched her as she moved to stand beside him, right arm dangling limply and completely covered by an angry red Lichtenberg mark, jacket sleeve completely burnt off and hands bearing burns from his flames also.

He stared in shock as he noticed Endeavor moving toward them. Though, he was in super rough shape too. “My Endeavor, you’re working really fucking hard today!” Dabi growled as he continued to fire off flames despite his protesting body. His stamina was beginning to reach the limit with his flames, but he had to try to protect his exhausted partner.

“What happened, Blue Flame!? The bitch sure talked big, but she sure is quiet now!” Endeavor barked, successfully going flame to flame. “Don’t fucking underestimate me! I’m not done with you yet!” They both heard the woman scream.

There was a loud crack like thunder and Dabi paled as he felt the vibration in his boots. “The fuck are you doing, Shinju!?”

The girl smirked almost demonically as she stared forward, blood gushing from her mouth. “I’M GOING TO END HIM WITH YOU IF ITS THE LAST THING I DO! FOR US!!!”

“No! Don’t! Cut that out!”

“THIS IS FOR HINO AND TOUYA! ZEUS MODE ACTIVATE!” The ground beneath them cracked and shifted as lightning began to twist and wind itself around Shinju’s body from the dark clouds and power throughout the entire area began to blackout. “IT’S OVER, ENDEAVOR!” She called as she began to fire lightning bolts from each palm separately.

Dabi caught on to her quickly. She was trying to move forward and get close and using her lightning and the resulting explosions to cut through the flames Endeavor created even though it was backlash for both sides. Shinju was quick to tackle the hero as soon as she got in range and both of their bodies went into violent convulsions as the lightning around her circuited through them. Their bodies were flung like rag dolls from each other and it was the swiftest Dabi had ever moved as he caught Shinju and tumbled into the dirt with her. Her face pressed into his chest unconsciously and blood smeared everywhere her mouth touched.

He quickly placed his hand against her chest, careful of all the blistering Lichtenberg marks littering her body and felt the weak pulsing with relief washing over his features. Dabi glanced over rapidly to see Endeavor just as immobilized. “Holy shit...” He knew he probably wasn’t dead, but there was no way that he wasn’t as fucked up as the woman in his arms. He was torn. Kill Endeavor or...? He drew himself to his feet weakly, Shinju lifted into his hurting arms.

“I see I made the right decision recruiting someone such as her.” Shigaraki’s voice rang as he stepped forward. “Quite the asset indeed. Let’s get out of here Dabi. I’d like to keep our asset alive if we can.” He nodded curtly and sighed slightly in relief as Shigaraki took the weight of the woman out of his arms.

[purplesurveys]

720

WHO was the last person...

you spoke to, in person? It was my mom. She went down around 20 minutes ago to make a couple of sandwiches for herself and dad. The quarantine has made our body clocks completely bonkers and it’ll be typical to see either parent go downstairs at 12 or 1 in the morning to make a meal.

you called? I rang up Gab fiveish minutes ago so we can do a video call on Messenger.

that called you? My mom called me from downstairs the other day to reprimand me about something I said on Facebook cause she said it might offend some of my relatives lol.

you texted? I haven’t texted in a hot fuckin’ minute. I’ve only been at home in the last month, so there’s been little need to spend on load for my phone when I can communicate with classmates and family from online anyway.

that sent you a text? My dad. He texted me that breakfast was ready so that he didn’t need to go into my bedroom, which I’m highkey thankful for. My mom would just burst into the room, pull up my window shade so the sunlight can come in, and yell in a loud voice so I wake up. It’s never improved my mood in all the times she’s done it so I dunno why she continues doing it.

you kissed? Gab, but that was a month ago ugh.

that kissed you? Also her.

you yelled at? My mom. She was yelling at me, so I yelled at her as well because two can play at that game now.

that yelled at you? ^

you watched a movie with? I watched Two for the Road by myself last night but as for companions, the last one I had was Gabie when we watched Titanic a few months ago.

you ate dinner with? My family. We eat dinner together every night, at least whenever my dad is back home in the country.

you were in a photo with? Also family. I haven’t been in a photo with anyone other than them in a while...

you took a photo of? That would be my dog. I don’t take photos of people these days, mostly because I’m unable to.

you went to a concert with? I went to my Paramore gig by myself since I couldn’t find anyone who had front row seats like me, but on the day of the concert itself, Denise, Erycka, and Leigh (who were all also going to the show but got cheaper seats) asked to hitch a ride with me. Gabie was also present but that’s only because she was excited for me and wanted to be around for that experience of mine.

you lied to? Probably a schoolmate that I had told I was busy even though I wasn’t and I just didn’t want to work that time.

you invited somewhere? I think Blanch? I told her we should go to Ayala Museum once we can go out again so she can see the prehistoric gold exhibit that they have.

you dated? Just my current girlfriend.

you dumped? I haven’t dumped anyone.

you rejected? Uh... technically Mike. There weren’t any words said, no closure or whatever, but I think we both knew and understood that he liked me but I let him find out for himself that I had already gotten back with my ex. Back then I was still horrible at the confrontation thing and didn’t know how to break it to him.

you held hands with? Gab, over a month ago.

you hugged? Same answer.

you let cry on your shoulder? Egh, I’m only mentally capable of doing this for Gabie. I can let people rant to me but it’s personally not good for my own mental health if I had people crying to me all the time.

that let you cry on their shoulder? Technically it was my dog. But the last person was either Angela or Gab, I don’t really remember.

you bought a gift for? I don’t remember aaaahhhhh. It was probably a Valentine’s gift though.

you wished a happy birthday? Luisa.

that disappointed you? Some distant relative who had recently added me on Facebook then, only for me to see her pro-government posts. I never unfriended someone so quickly.

that stayed over at your place? Ralph, my sister’s now ex-boyfriend. Never liked the guy and am so glad they broke up, I never did like seeing him around in our house hah. that let you crash at their place? Gabie, but only to have dinner and work. that made you angry? My mom told me personal insults over a chore I did wrong a few days ago and it made me really angry. that complimented you? Andrew and I exchanged compliments when we needed pick-me-ups sometime last week. whom you complimented? ^ you thanked? My dad, when I saw him baking chocolate chip cookies a while ago after I had nagged him all week to make some. that thanked you? Mom. She asked me to fetch her something. you saw, in person? Right now I can see my sister on the couch. I think she’s watching an anime or playing some game on her laptop. that bought you something? Now hasn’t really been the time to ask for non-essential stuff, but my dad did buy me my requested soju a few weeks ago. that made you laugh? My sister I think? My family watched an online mass livestream earlier and my mom wanted to try out an American Catholic church after my grand-aunt (who lives in the States) recommended that specific parish. ANYWAY so of course their accent was very different to what we’re used to, and my sister’s fazed reaction to how they said one of the words made me laugh. that you said you loved? Gab. that said they loved you? My mom. you flipped off? Haven’t done this to anyone in a whiiiiileeeeee. you made a silly face at? It would always be just my dog but person-wise I don’t even remember anymore. that drove you somewhere? Dad drove me and my mom to the local columbarium last month.

WHAT was the last thing you...

touched? Other than the keyboard and trackpad, I used a spoon to eat some of the raw cookie dough my dad had prepared heh.

threw? Second day I’m trying to finish this survey lol. I just took the last piece of painkillers to treat my headache, so I threw the packaging like 30 seconds ago.

ate? Shrimp pasta that my mom made for dinner.

drank? Coffee.

found stuck in your teeth? Idk, bits of food that I don’t really keep track of.

cooked? :( Never cooked a full meal ever but the last thing I *helped* my dad with was breading the meat he was gonna use to make pork chop haha.

baked? Chocolate chip cookies two years ago. I remember it distinctly because I never bake.

bought? Man I haven’t bought anything in forever. I’m thinking about it and it’s probably something I bought for lunch at school? The only thing I buy is food anyway so I’m pretty sure I’m at least on the right track.

sold? I'm not much of an entrepreneur. 

took a photo of? My dog with a cold compress on top of his head. The weather is starting to be unforgiving so I’ve been allotting my own compress for Kimi so that he doesn’t feel overheated.

were frustrated with? My mom telling us we had to watch a mass livestream this morning -_____- I thought she was only gonna make us ‘attend’ the Lenten masses i.e. Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, but it’s past Lent and she’s still making us do it. I’m guessing it’s gonna be routine every Sunday now, ugh.

broke? I don’t tinker much for the very reason that I tend to break everything I touch. That being said, I haven’t broken anything in a while.

spilled? I have a fear of spilling stuff because my mom has always reacted negatively to that. Yay for trauma!

tripped on? A piece of bone that my dog had left on the floor. It felt like stepping on a goddamn Lego.

kicked? My blanket when I started feeling too warm inside my room.

put batteries in? I haven’t used batteries in ages.

turned on? I opened my laptop to continue this survey.

turned off? My Nintendo Switch, when I didn’t feel like playing anymore.

wrote? A survey, if anything. I haven’t had to write anything ever since they suspended online classes.

wrote on? I think it was my sister’s notebook.

cleaned? Myself? I just took a bath if that counts.

WHERE was the last place you...

dined at? I’m pretty sure it was Yabu. Gab and I went out for dinner on the last Monday before the lockdown, didn’t see each other all week, then by Saturday when we saw each other again we just had dinner at her place. So it’s gotta be Yabu.

ordered something to go? A local sushi place and a local pizza place, a week ago. My dad was too lazy to cook that evening so we got takeout instead.

bought something? The local milk tea place that we have in school and Rodic’s. I got myself milk tea, and I got my dad my favorite meal from Rodic’s, tapsilog.

cried? My room, I think.

felt uncomfortable? Just the house cause I haven’t been anywhere in a month.

drove to? My girlfriend’s school and then her house.

had an appointment at? Eye doctor at SM Marikina.

went on vacation? Tagaytay and then we moved to Cavite the day after so that we got to maximize the time that we had to have a staycation.

hung out with a friend? The 30th. Ughhhhh I miss the mall.

bought clothes? Feliz, at an independent clothing stall at one of the top floors.

spent more than you had planned? Feliz then I even had the audacity to move to The 30th to spend more lmaooooo AND THAT WAS A MONDAY. I was so bad at saving money skksks.

saw a band/singer/musician perform? One of the local arenas in Manila so I can watch Paramore.

WHEN was the last time you...

told someone 'I love you'? A little over an hour ago I think.

cried? I don’t remember.

laughed? A few hours ago, maybe? I always laugh when I come across a dumb meme on Facebook.

left your home? March 10th. Really not a good time to be asking that question lol.

drank a soda/pop? Sometime in February when my org had an event and the only drink being served was Coke. I was extremely hungry/thirsty that evening so I had no problem chugging soda down, even though it was so unpleasant.

made your bed? This morning.

visited a doctor? March 9th.

went to the emergency room? I’ve never had to go to the emergency room except for the time I was being delivered.

kissed someone? The last weekend before the lockdown. Man, I had no idea how lame/sad my answers were going to be lmaooo I really should have thought that through before starting a “when was the last time you” survey.

hugged someone? Also a month ago. I’m not a hugger in the family but I do hug my friends a lot.

prayed? Sometime when I was 9 or 10 years old.

worked out? Last semester when my PE was actually focused on working out instead of a sport.

made a phone call? This afternoon. My mom got me load for my phone (after a month of not having any!!!) just because, so I surprised Gab by calling her.

answered a phone? Last night.

had an argument? A few days ago.

played a video game? A little over an hour ago. I was playing Mario Kart 8.

played a card game? It wasn’t necessarily a card game but last January at Rita’s place, she took out a deck, asked us to pick certain cards, and then told us about our relationships and the issues that lurk beneath it based on the cards that were left hahahaha. Of course I think the strategy itself is bullshit but Rita speaks well and is a psych student, so we still ended up having a good conversation after hearing the verdict for mine.

played a board game? Ages ago. I can’t even tell you how long it’s been.

rode a bike? Around a month ago. I told myself I was gonna learn how to ride a bike during the quarantine, but it’s been so hot outside these days that it’s so easy to run out of enthusiasm for it.

fell on your butt? I don’t remember.

took a shower? In the last hour.

took a bubble bath? A year ago, maybe longer.

watched TV? I asked dad to watch El Camino with me on my his and my mom’s TV when it came out, so that would be last October.

saw a movie at a theater? December. It was for Knives Out.

ate fast food? 3-4 weeks ago if I’m not mistaken.

ordered a pizza? A couple of weeks ago. We tried Angel’s Pizza for a change and it turned out to be loads better than Pizza Hut which tends to be our usual.

made someone laugh? I probably made a few people laugh off of the few memes I shared today, so there’s that.

sang? Like a half hour ago. Hayley from Paramore shared a clip of the band performing Hard Times to celebrate the song turning 3 and it turns out the gig was from their show in Manila, so I hurriedly clicked on the video and sang along.

played a musical instrument? It’s been many months since I last used the keyboard.

read a book? A month-ish ago.

drove a car? My dad asked me to move my car to a different spot sometime last week, which felt so surreal as I hadn’t driven in a few weeks. It felt so weird driving again and I had to drive in a crawl to get accustomed to being in the driver’s seat again.

went swimming? August 2019, at a beach in Nasugbu.

got a sunburn? Haven’t gotten a sunburn since I was little.

went to church or temple? First week of March.

went shopping? I don’t really remember but it was one of the last few weekends before the lockdown.

drank alcohol? Two weeks ago.

smoked a cigarette? Sometime in March, the same night when my friends and I went to BGC to party. When everyone else went home, Gab and I stayed for a bit, strolled around The Palace, and had a smoke while watching everyone else around us get crazy wasted.

threw up? Sometime last year. I haven’t drunk too much recently.

had a headache? Tonight.

had a cold? Maybe last year or a couple of years ago. I don’t get colds a lot.

had the flu? Probably not since I was little. I’ve gotten fevers in the last few years but that was all there was to it. I’ve never been sick and had cough and colds at the same time, at least not for a very long time.

had your hair cut? A week before the lockdown -____- Barely anyone got to see my bangs and I’ll always be disappointed about that hahaha.

dyed your hair? Never.

laughed so hard that you cried? I remember watching a hilarious clip on Facebook of this lady who had a contagious fucking laugh, I think it was a week ago or a little over that.