#source. [ b.nha. ]

[resolutepath]

Whether it was the six men in suits or the elderly man in front of them all holding onto a cane with a stare that spoke of worry, mattered not as Alistair stared upon the red hero, Kirishima, Shoto's friend. Though it wasn't common for them all to be in the same country in recent months, it wasn't like Alistair and Shoto remained away from here but it was just easier to heal from trauma when you are removed from everything that brings back memories.

For now though, ( @intcritus ) Shoto was in an accident with several others from an outing they separated on but that wasn't all, Alistair was pissed. To think his grandson, newly adopted legally and finally, was now in hospital yet again… And now it was poor Kirishima's right place, wrong time moment for the Elder Hero to speak with a voice that was not to take any excuse in his query; "Give me a straight answer." Inhale. "Are you harmed? Shoto's room... and who was it that hurt my boy?"

A hand pressed to his forehead, Kirishima is still reeling from the latest event that ended up with him here, back in hospital, curled upon a chair outside the rooms of the friends he failed to protect. His mind has been reeling, spinning viciously until the approaching group draw him from it. He shrinks back instinctively, not out of fear but from the tingle of his skin that he knows is not ready for any form of touch so soon after battle.

He looks up, crimson gaze shifting between the figures until it lies upon the Elder Hero and he swallows down the anxiety and guilt that sits in his chest and nods his head slowly in understanding as the questions are fired at him in that clear tone.

"R-right, uh, I'm not hurt, just... don't touch me..." he answers quietly in a subdued tone, pausing before he hurriedly adds: "Quirk side effects." A pause again and then lifts his arm away from his forehead, indicating to the door he's sat outside, the one he has sat vigil in for longer than he cares to admit, waiting for the moment he'll be allowed in. Bakugo is next door and he's got visitor permissions to see him, so he'd darted between the two earlier, but since he fell asleep he's just been here.

"It was a remnant group of the Paranormal Liberation Front who found each other again... a rise up of the movement i guess. I didn't recognise most of them... but one of them was the guy with the ice quirk... Geten." He refrains from explaining more, about how the ice kept overwhelming Shoto's fire, how Bakugo couldn't get there in time because he'd been wrapped up in another battle. How he'd been caught up defending Shoto's back from a quirk that was so amped up he could not help with what was going on in front. "The other two might have recognised a few more of them..."

He trails off, lowering his gaze, finding comfort in looking at the floor. His hand settles on his knee, curling in the fabric of the trousers, the dusty, stained fabric crinkling under the pressure. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect him more..." His voice is barely a whisper, hoarse with the self-blame he carries. He thought he was past this, past seeing those he cares for falling as he fails to shield them, but this job put him right back.

@nvrcmplt

[daybreakrising]

@ofluminance: “ if anybody were to kiss me, i would want that person to be you. “ / kamijirou!

Well. Well. He wasn't expecting that. Should he have? Is he truly so clueless, so blind, so-

-okay, focus, Kaminari. Focus. You can't screw this up.

The look of surprise on his face softens into something almost... tender. Gone is the loud, brash idiot - gone is the image he so often hides behind. There's a vulnerability to him that he almost never lets show, a vulnerability she's probably had a glimpse of before, whether she was aware of it or not.

He feels a flutter of nerves as he takes a step closer to her, suddenly questioning his every move. She's inviting you, idiot, just do it. She is inviting him, right? He hasn't misread the situation, hasn't misunderstood her words?

"Yeah?" His voice sounds a lot calmer than he feels. Somehow, he even manages a smile that displays a confidence that surprises him. He brings up a hand, gently lifts her chin, tipping her face to his. "What... you mean... like this?"

He draws in an imperceptible breath to steady himself, then gently touches his lips to hers in a sweet, chaste kiss.

[bumbog]

not to bring up b.nha at its tumblr peak but does anyone else remember the subset of the fandom who like. felt the need to bring bakugou to justice for being a bully. like elaborate fics tagged as bakugou/consequences where they'd labour intensively over him being kicked out of school, his one friend (kirishima) abandoning him etc etc

[resolutepath]

"Yeah... I figured." Even Pino winces at how restrained Rody's voice sounds right about now, before she resumes beating her wings and chirruping, and then flying across to Izuku's shoulder and doing the same, albeit with a little more insistence and a little less ferocity. She is the mark of concern as he continues to move, and it is enough to draw Rody's gaze more directly to the other just as his hand is squeezed.

"Right here, it's not like you can move..." he squeezes Izuku's hand back, determined to let him know that though he's feeling mad its not at Izuku but rather the situation that they have found themselves in. "You're not looking after yourself alone this time, who knows what damage you'll do..." He doesn't scold as he says it, his tone too soft to do so, but he does give a pointed look that shows he hold no illusions as to how Izuku will go about his healing process if he leaves.

"I've slept in worst places than on the floor," he reassuraces, smiling at the patterns being drawn on his hand. "Listen can you just forget about that magic? It's..." Terrifying. Going to kill you. Scaring me to death. There's so many ways he could finish the sentence but he settles for the least offensive of the bunch. "...not safe."

“I tried…” Izuku trails off briefly as fuzzy memories come back to him. That was right - he had tried to use the magic that All Might had passed to him. They thought his body was ready - could handle the extreme magic that pounded through his body. Unfortunately, considering the state that the adventurer was in, that was far from the truth.

Green orbs track Rody’s movements as he sits down next to where he’s resting - heavy blinking. Despite the request to rest, of course Izuku is ridiculously stubborn - giving the thief’s hand a gentle squeeze, as much force as he could right now. “‘m sorry.” Izuku started to apologise, the words heavy. “I didn’t know this would happen. “We thought it… we thought I was ready.” He swallowed a bit. God, his entire body hurts, talking is taking a lot at the moment.

A few seconds of hesitation. “You’re staying…?” He breathed a little bit, thankful. “Where….?” He glanced around a little bit, trying to work out his surroundings. He wanted to ask how long, but… Izuku can tell Rody is uneasy, at the very least. He just slowly rubbed a sleepy pattern into the back of Rody’s hand for the time being.

[foresthavenwrites]

Welcome!

This is a request blog aimed for proselfshippers and those with what's "problematic" f/os for any reason at all! This includes selfships with age gaps, incest, and similar.

Here we mostly do xreader hcs and ficlets, but we can also do tarot compatibility and pendulum readings! You can see how to request them here. Readings are always allowed to be requested despite what the top of the blog says and won't be placed in received requests as they should be got too a lot quicker than written works

We accept any fictional character from any source, but please be aware if we're not aware of what or who that is that means your request might take longer to finish.

In an attempt to keep this blog up for a longer time, we won't be using main tags though I won't bother will censoring the names in the post itself. For example, characters will be tagged as B.akugo K.atsuki and fandoms such as B.nha or R.esident E.vil. Everything will be trigger warned but please feel free to ask to tag

Please check out the faq tag! That will contain any questions asked by anons

Mod Jay | Mod Cupid

*mod applications open

received requests | currently queued

[resolutepath]

STARTER CALL. // @keshimasu

The rain pours beyond the comfort of his apartment, drizzling down the windows in dreary streams while the winds howl forebodingly. It is not a night for work, thankfully, his duties reduced now that the war is over and his recovery still a work in progress. But that does not mean he does not have his place. Shinya turns at the sound of his doorbell and pads over, unlocking the door and swinging it open to reveal the other hero there.

"Come in..." There are no questions, just the wider opening of the door to welcome the other into the warm ambience of his home, where he holds the one thing he can still offer unreservedly. His spare room, a haven for tired heroes who need sanctuary to rest until they feel ready to face the world again. A space away from cameras and judgement and expectation where peace may be found.

"What do you need? The room is yours tonight..."

[daybreakrising]

@ofluminance sent: ❝ keep your eyes on me— just focus on me. we’re gonna be okay. ❞ / from kyouka to denki! <3

His pulse is pounding in his ears, his breath shallow and quick. It's all he can do to focus on her voice, to keep his eyes on her face. he can feel a sort of panic rising in his chest, a panic born of pain and desperation.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." He doesn't sound sure, but he trusts her. "We got this, sure." He's only mildly injured - nothing that will impede too much on their capabilities, he hopes - but it's enough to set a worry in his mind. He doesn't want to be a burden.

His hand grasps at her shoulder to ground himself, and he forces his breath to slow, to steady. Panic won't help them. He needs to have her back, just as she has his. They're a team. "We got this." He repeats, this time sounding a little more confident.

[resolutepath]

she sits in silence for a moment, simply basking in the presence of her brother, knowing that she could say many things in this moment, but fuyumi doesn't often know how to articulate her feelings. ❝ ━ how are you, natsuo ? ❞ how are you holding up ? is there anything i can do for you, goes unsaid, always trying to be the peace maker even in calm situations, when it's just the two of them. ❝ ━ can i treat you to lunch ? there's a ramen shop not far from here ? ❞ tentative wording, she doesn't often eat out but figures they both can use this to excuse to catch up, properly.

How are you? Her words seem to echo in the quiet street, pinging around in his brain, before a tired sigh slips from his lips. His fingers curl into the sleeves of his over-sized hoody, his chin tucking a little, obscuring the ghastly sight of the mottled yellow and green at his jawline. Natsuo ruminates a little longer before turning to meet her gaze.

His answer is not absent because he has none, but rather, it is a loaded question if there ever was one. With their family history sprawled out in the open like dirty laundry and the state of the world in utter shambles, there's no time in which one can be okay. Coupled with the knowledge of Touya being alive that had dragged all that grief he had stored in his chest as unbridled anger and resentment, burying the loneliness and despair beneath.

"I'm fine, 'yumi..." I'm holding up. I'm coping. Don't worry about me. He did not want to be her burden. His anger is not her weight to carry, his resentment about the hand they were dealt and frustrations with everyone knowing their business, of not being able to seethe in silence. His problems are his own, at least when it comes to the complicated cocktail that is spilt all over the news. But he can't give her nothing. "Just came off a run of deadlines, it was pretty rough but I'm on the other side."

There's a part of him that is reluctant to accept lunch and he loathes himself for it almost instantly because he knows where it stems from and its not her fault. He feels the instant hackles rise, not because he doesn't want to go, but because he does not want to antagonise her with his defensiveness, and the guilt that follows. The overwhelming sense of failure in himself as a sibling for always feeling the need to run and fight against anything to do with his last name rather than try and nurture what remains. It's enough to make him feel scorn towards himself, and temper that need to answer her in a better way.

"Sure... I have time..." If he is rational enough, ramen does sound good and spending time with Fuyumi alone suits. He raises a hand, pressing it to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in too long strands of white that poke from his nape. "You can tell me about your sprogs and the comedic capers that class of yours get up to..."

@intcritus

[daybreakrising]

@ofluminance sent: ❝ i dunno who taught you that love comes with conditions and limitations, but mine doesn’t. not when it’s you. ❞ / from ochako to sho :( OW THIS ONE HURT ME ;___; shes gonna hug him

Her words are like a targeted blow to the chest, punching through his carefully built defences and scattering them to dust. It's not just her words - that softness in her face, the gentleness to her voice, the way she's looking at him so earnestly...

She means it.

That's what breaks him. That raw, genuine emotion, the unselfish honesty. She's not saying this because she wants or expects something from him. That's the point.

"I..." The words don't come, because what words does he have? This isn't something he's used to. He's still accepting that the people around him care, still learning to open up to them all - and he's never been good with words, not really.

So, instead, he acts on instinct, and - albeit rather awkwardly - folds her into his arms.

[staravya]

e ye s

hi hello hope you’re doing well!

here’s me, still making pokemon go aus: haha what do you mean it’s been years and that whole shtick has died down. that’s ridiculous. anyway here’s b.nha,

“Let me make this clear,” Aizawa drawls. ”Remember, don’t get involved in any vigilante factions. Anytime you see one of these crests, you do not engage. You turn around and leave. Do you understand? They are not like our vigilantes. We cannot and should not try to root them out.” He shakes the paper with the three crests emblazoned on the white page. “Agreed, hell class?”

A few laughs skitter out at the nickname, but all of them chime in to respond, “Yes, sir!”

…

Winter roars past, and Izuku skids to a stop as a glacier pours itself into existence, catching the criminal first by the foot and then crawling up his body until he’s completely immobilized in the ice. He lets out a single sob of despair before the ice closes around his mouth, threatening to reach his nose and suffocate him in its grip.

For a moment, a part of Izuku wants to sigh in relief, but—he’s sparred against Todoroki enough times to realize that his ice doesn’t act like this. His ice doesn’t whip the air into a frenzy of blizzard wind long after the attack is over, tearing at Izuku’s clothes like fangs bared in a threat.

A figure walks closer, emerging with calm, measured steps from the powder-snow drifting through the air. As they pass under the illumination of a flickering streetlight, Izuku‘s eyes widen.

They’re wearing blue. An emblem rests on their lapels, the caricature of a deep blue bird with its wings extended.

Mystic.

Izuku holds his breath as the person approaches. He does not speak first, but instead studies their face and their clothes, committing it all to memory.

“Ah,” they say, not slowing their advance, “a hero hopeful. You’re one of the students who came with the prestigious UA.”

It’s not a question, but their glowing blue eyes glint dangerously in the dim light. Izuku hesitantly nods confirmation.

“Your laws have no say here,” the person says, and breezes past Izuku in a gust of cool air that sinks through his clothes, making him shiver.

“That d-doesn’t mean I can’t save people, though,” he dares to respond.

They don’t stop to address him, merely stepping over to the frozen criminal and trailing their fingers across the ice. “I suppose not,” they agree. The trapped person lets out a muffled sound of distress. In response, the ice contracts, tightening around its victim. “Run along, little hero. This agent will get his due, but here is no place for the lawful.”

Izuku doesn’t immediately whip around and flee. He doesn’t know why, really—Aizawa had warned them to do exactly that if confronted by an active vigilante, and to avoid the factions at all costs—but he doesn’t.

And that hesitation lets him see the ice pull back.

“Are you ready to speak?” the vigilante asks, allowing the ice to withdraw from the criminal’s mouth (and that level of control is astounding, not just creation but manipulation, not even Todoroki can do that).

The moment his mouth is freed, the criminal starts babbling. “I am, yes—please, Blanche, I didn’t know—I was just running an errand for quick money, I swear—“

“You are fortunate it was a treatable gas, and not an explosive.”

“—please, please, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know—“

“Where did it come from?”

“I don’t know, I never met the source. They just texted me where to pick it up and drop it off, that’s it, I swear.”

Izuku can’t quite make himself move. Now that he knows that this criminal is just… not that much of a threat, frankly, and not apparently an intentional criminal at that, Izuku is—reasonably wary of what this vigilante might do.

…

When the students of UA’s class 3-A think of flame, they think first of Katsuki and the roar of an explosion in his palms, not fire but fiery, and hot, and destructive enough to be the same if not better. Or they will think of Todoroki and his ice-tempered flames, the balance he so carefully works towards after tipping the scales away from heat for so long.

But when the locals here think of flame, they think vigilante. They think Valor and the destruction of a wild blaze, and they duck their heads to hide.

Katsuki thinks he might finally understand why.

“You’re one of the UA kids, aren’t you?” says the living inferno in a flesh body before him. “I see that the pro hero thing’s still working out over in Japan. Must be stuffy over there.”

Katsuki has faced his classmate’s flames, snarled at Dabi’s blue fire, and witnessed Endeavor’s hellish heat, but this—elegance and precision, the steam she exhales and her ember eyes, wings feathered with fire, lazily half-furled at her back as they light up the night (like she’s more flame than mortal, more heat than human)—this is nothing like theirs. It’s nothing like his.

On instinct, his palms pop and crackle. It’s less a threat than a promise, a warning that he has teeth and isn’t afraid to use them. Too late, he remembers Aizawa’s warning: Remember, don’t get involved in any vigilante factions. Anytime you see one of these crests, you do not engage. You turn around and leave. Do you understand? They are not like our vigilantes. We cannot and should not try to root them out.

He was right. Katsuki knows he’s made a mistake in letting his quirk snap to life.

Not because it makes this vigilante with the emblem of a firebird on her jacket thinks he’s challenging her, but because it piques her interest. Her eyes light up as stars in supernova and she says, “Ooh, a kindred spirit! I wonder”—and the wings swing open, a rush of searing heat nearly igniting the sweat on his arms—“which of us is stronger, do you think.”

The fiery wings vanish, plunging the street into darkness. The lampposts are still shorted out, so the only sources of light are Explosion crackling in his hands and the glow of her eyes, ruby-red.

“Bakugou,” Sero begins, his voice muffled in the shadowed night, “we should go.”

“So soon?” the vigilante asks, disappointed.

When Kirishima shifts his weight, Katsuki feels a Hardened shoulder brush against his. “Our teacher’s waiting,” Kirishima says, his tone apologetic but stern, soft silk over a steel blade.

Katsuki exhales. Unfortunately, he has never been one to rest his laurels.

“Which of us is stronger? It’s me, obviously,” he says, and the quiet slap he hears might be Ashido’s palm meeting her forehead. Whatever. He’s not really angry, per se, and he’s far from stupid, but—

The vigilante laughs. It’s not a mocking laughter, it’s thrilled, and a small voice in the back of his mind that sounds kind of like Deku or Aizawa says that this is bad and he should probably disengage before something considerably awful happens, but Katsuki has years upon years of experience ignoring Deku (and almost three years of at least taking what Aizawa says with a grain of salt, so). “Let’s go then,” she says, a feral grin splitting her lips. “I am Candela of Valor and your challenge has been accepted, student of UA!”

Fire blooms against her silhouetted back, wings half-formed, and Candela lunges.

Katsuki shoves his classmates back and rushes up to meet her, bloodlust boiling in his veins. There’s nothing like the heat of the battle to wake him right up, and he doesn’t care how infamous the vigilantes in this stupid country are, he’s fought Dabi and sparred with Todoroki, he knows how fire works.

He knows how to beat other’s people fire with his own.

Flames lurch forward like wolves on the hunt, but Katsuki blasts apart the first of them and launches himself up into the air to avoid the rest.

He’s used to having the advantage in the air, but Candela only laughs. Her flames twist and shit that’s not just emission, that’s manipulation—

Candela herself may not be able to lift into the air, but her control is perfect, fire churning into a horselike shape that arches over Katsuki in the sky, its fiery hooves primed to stomp down on him.

Swearing, he blasts at it, launching himself back towards the ground as the force tears into the horse—only for the heat in his hands to suddenly turn on him, serpentine dragons of living flame curling up his arms and biting into him.

His sweat (his weapon) ignites at their white-hot fangs before he means for it to, exploding into his skin. Bakugou shouts as he falls, flipping around to slow his descent, but even as the force of his concussive blasts resist gravity’s pull, he can feel the heat pulling away from his control. Like sassy rebukes, they sting his face as they slip past, the nips of foxes as they skitter past.

“Explosions, huh?” Candela’s voice rises from below on the heat, thrilled laughter in every word. “Not bad, not bad at all. But not good enough, either.”

Bakugou lands, and the street flashes red. Flames erupt from Candela’s boots in a radius that just barely stops short of Kirishima’s feet behind him, a wildfire roaring up with such intensity that Bakugou grimaces, his sweat sparking and crackling all over his skin.

…

Izuku says, “You too?”

Kirishima nods. “We ran into the Valor leader, Candela,” he says, more hushed than Izuku’s ever known him to be. “She challenged Bakugou, and… Well, you can imagine.”

The news comes to mind—a scorched street, everything half-melted, the crest of Valor seared onto the road like a branding, Blanche’s silent fury in the face of such desecration—and Izuku grimaces. “Yeah,” he says, “I can.”

“It was pretty manly.”

“Kirishima.”

“It was!” he says defensively. “It was scary, but really cool.”

[resolutepath]

take a deep breath , you need to calm down . ( shoto @ kiri )

He didn't realise he was shaking until Shoto pointed it out to him, glancing down at his unsteady hands, curling figners into fists as though it might hide the reaction. "I... sorry, I'm..." The words were stuttered from his lips but he never finished it, swallowing his words to instead take the deep breath Shoto asked, following it with another that comes a little more easily.

It takes him a little longer to get his breathing under control, one hand reaching up into his shirt, curling into the fabric, the other stretching forward to catch on Shoto's wrist, the contact helping. Eventually he eases into something easier, able to take in the clean, sterile room, the beeping of machines and realise that his panic had been the result of a nightmare, feeling like he had been back in the battle, still in the throes of war.

A shake of the head follows as he tries to clear his thoughts, a shudder of a breath as she slowly lets go of Shoto's wrist and turns his head upwards to offer an apologetic smile, weariness clouding his expression.

"Sorry... guess I'm doing less well than expected..."

[resolutepath]

stop looking at me like that . ( shinso / sero )

"Like what?"

Sero knows how he is looking at Shinso. It's the kind of look one gives when they are besotted; the full head tilt, unwavering gaze, hand tucked beneath chin, totally distracted from the homework he's supposed to be doing. He's shameless about it; grinning as he looks at the other, twisting his pen. Give him a minute, and he might end up kicking his feet just to sell the full look.

"You can't blame me when you're concentrating. You're just..." he lifts his pen, waving it in the direction of the other as though it might explain anything of what he's feeling. "You look good, man."

He does turn his gaze back to his page eventually, but he's soon drawn back to Shinso. To watch his dedication to his career in motion, the way even though he started behind, he has run his race, caught them, and is able to stand among them. He doesn't know if he'd have been able to do the same. Studying the shadows on Shinso's face, the concentration in it, he almost misses eyes turning back to him and setting a disapproving look at him as his homework sits unfinished.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop staring... if you give me a kiss."

He drives a hard bargain / @intcritus

[resolutepath]

angelica and lilac for rumi!

angelica :   where does your muse draw inspiration in life ? what motivates them ?

Adrenaline, Danger, Competition. Rumi is motivated by that which gives her the thrill of being alive and thriving. She loves to win, to suceed and excel, to push the boundaries of anything and everything and to speak her mind.

lilac :   what was your muse’s childhood like ?how has their upbringing affected them as they’ve aged ? 

She was a bit of a wildcard, known to be a hooligan and kicked out of school, which we know from Vigilantes. Rumi had a lot of energy and traditional schooling was not suited to her. She had no challenge and conformity was not her thing so she rebelled a lot and sought the challenges she needed. She was very independent from an early age and a low unto herself and this has not changed as she's aged, in fact it has only been reinforced. The only difference now is when younger she would shun any help and now she knows her own limits and when to ask for it.

BOTANICAL HCS. // @quietlyblooms

[resolutepath]

amplifyingtrace​:

Leia sighed in relief hearing Kirishima promising not to tell, not that she doubted for a moment he would, it was still nice to hear him confirm he wouldn’t “Thank you Kirishima” She nodded beaming up at him, glad he has been able to spot those soft smiles too, it almost felt like they were both keeping a big secret together. “We don’t want that at all, I do hope in the future he’ll be more relaxed about letting his guard down and just smile more, you know?” 

Looks like he was also a bit shy about getting praise about his quirk too, or was it just not thinking it was all that special for this task? “Thank you again for helping me and getting the apples ready, you did a really great job for your first time doing this. I know I messed up a few apples prepping them with the wooden sticks my first time” She laughed at the memory, remembering getting a bit upset as she thought she ruined it, but thankfully her grandmother was there to reassure her and help adjust it as needed.

“It’s my way of showing everyone how amazing they’ve all been doing with all the extra hard work to become pro heroes. Along with cheering them on and or up depending if they had a rough day, be by training or just having an off day.” She smiled softly, glancing at the thermometer one last time before placing the burner on the lowest setting. Wanting to keep the caramel warm to work with and not burn it by keeping it on too high.

“Once you finish opening the packages, we are all set to go-” Leia turned towards Kirishima catching him opening the last package with his teeth, she could only assume he did the same thing with the others. A low snort like giggle escaped as it reminded her of Katsuki doing the same thing to open the packages when they were kids. 

“Now comes the fun part, making the caramel apples!” Leia beamed, picking up one of the apples Kirishima prepared and waited until he was ready so he could watch her do the very first one as he’s never made them before. 

“All you need to do is dunk them into the caramel either all the way to the stick or just blow it” Slowly she dipped the apple into the warm caramel, stopping just below where the stick was and moved it gently from side to side to make sure the whole apple was coated properly. “Once it’s coated just lift it up carefully and let some of the excess caramel drip off before either dipping it into one of the toppings, or place onto the silicone matt to dry.” 

Carefully she lifted the apple out of the pot to demonstrate, letting all the excess caramel drip off and placing it into the smaller sprinkles. Rolling it inside the bowl a few times to make sure it was full of sprinkles before getting setting it onto the matt to dry standing up. “And then your done!” She grinned widely, bouncing on her toes slightly as she was excited for Kirishima to try to do one next.

"We’ll keep working with him on it!” There’s enthusiasm in Kirishima’s voice for he shares a similar wish to Leia. He’s waiting for the day when Katsuki feels comfortable enough to be unapologetically himself, without hiding behind the anger to cover his vulnerabilities. He can see it coming, can see the changes in him when he’s with the squad and with the class and knows that it will come with time. He believes in him.

"You don’t have to thank me, I enjoy helping!” he admits, letting his hand fall from his nape, allowing the smile to form more easily now the compliments are passed. He does appreciate her comments about his work, but really it was an easy enough task for him with the quirk he has, so it’s nothing too strenuous or taxing on his part. He’s just glad he can be of aid for the most part.

He finishes tidying the last of the rubbish and looks surprised to hear her giggling away at his unorthodox manner of opening the packages but chuckles himself. He supposes it is a bit ridiculous when he thinks about it. Still it’s easier and though he receives admonishments for it back home, its not stopped him. “Well I’m all done, so it’s time for the fun!”

He watches studiously as she dunks the apple, lets the caramel drip off and then rolls it in the toppings, nodding to himself after. The process is simple enough and he’s eager to try. He lifts one of the apples and takes it to the caramel following her instructions to ensure it is covered and the excess slips from the fruit. Once he’s sure it won’t drip everywhere, he lifts it towards the M&Ms and carefully coats it in them. It’s not the finest work, it’s definitely a first attempt but it is successful. He returns it tot he silicone mat with a grin.

“I did my best, it’s nowhere near as neat as yours, but you were right, this is a lot of fun!”

[resolutepath]

i'm going out , i'm gonna drink myself to death with coffee . ( shinso / sero )

"That's going to come back to bite you at some point, you know..." There's a light tease in his tone as Sero lounges back on the sofa, arms hanging off the back as he turns in the other's direction. If he's honest, he is so impressed with how much coffee Shinso can drink, it's far beyond the amount he could manage, not that he's really tested the limits.

"What's the reason for the coffee this time, huh? Aizawa-sensei pushing you too hard?" While his voice is still light there's a discerning gaze as he studies the other, checking for signs of overtaxing. It's more prevalant in their cohort more than ever, particularly following the war, the fatigue creeping into their bones more easily than before. If there's any signs of it on his person, then Sero's not above stepping in, in ensuring that his classmates rest.

"You should sit down with me a while. There's a new drama on tonight that looks like it'll be a total flop but in that hilarious way... we can challenge each other to see who will laugh at it first."

@intcritus // ↪ 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

[resolutepath]

📱 ( shinsō / sero )

[ TEXT: SHINSŌ ] I know you gave your number for training and emergencies, but we're having a study party... would you want to join? UNSENT.

[ TEXT: SHINSŌ ] You seemed kind of down after class today, but dude cut yourself some slack. You're making so much progress! UNSENT.

[ TEXT: SHINSŌ ] You're going to kill it Shinsō, see you on the other side. UNSENT.

[ TEXT: SHINSŌ ] 'Roki and I are having a manga reading evening. You wanna join? UNSENT.

[ TEXT: SHINSŌ ] Dude can I come hide in your dorms, it's so loud here tonight... UNSENT.

[ TEXT: SHINSŌ ] I've got ground gamma again for the day, fancy a swing around the city? Loser buys the coffee after? SENT.

SEND 📱FOR 5 UNSENT / 1 SENT. // @intcritus