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[what-are-wordsss]

A Haunted House with a Picket Fence to Float around and Ghost my Friends

Ghost x Reader (Platonic)

Ghost has been having a hard time lately. What can you do to help him?

Ao3 Link

~

Retirement was killing Ghost. It had been a year and a half now and the lack of routine, the loneliness, everything... he couldn't handle it. All he did lately was rot in bed, not getting up unless it was to use the bathroom and maybe grab a protein bar and water bottle. What was the point anymore? No friends, no job, what did he have to get out of bed for? What was there to live for? 

He was forced into retirement after the death of Soap and an injury he obtained in the mission after.

You were the newest member of the TF141, joining shortly before Ghost left. You two didn't get to know each other well, but you knew each other enough. Well, enough to get each other's cell phone numbers and keep in contact. 

Well, until Ghost dropped off of the face of the earth. He stopped contacting anybody on his old team and stopped answering messages and calls. It worried everyone. 

You didn't have the time to check in on him for a few months, occasionally sending a message to check on him in your free time, but he never answered you. It worried you to no end. But you were in another country on a mission; what could you do about it until you got back? 

The first thing you did as soon as you got some approved leave time was head over to his place. You hesitantly knocked on his door. You weren't sure what you'd find. There was no answer and after a few minutes, you knocked again.

"Simon?" You called out. "You there?" You could see a small light on through the window. You tried the door. Unlocked. That worried you. Ghost was paranoid by nature, why would his door be unlocked? "I'm coming in, okay?" You yelled, opening the door. 

You entered his flat, not sure what you'd see. There wasn't anything in the living room, no signs of Ghost or anything else.

You walked by the kitchen on your way to his bedroom and peeked in. Nobody there. You knocked on his bedroom door and listened. There was no answer, but you could hear a slight shifting. He was in there. 

"Hey, I'm coming in there. You better be decent." You joked, trying to conceal your worry and panic about the whole situation. You pushed the door open and looked in. 

Ghost was lying on his stomach under his pile of blankets on his bed, just looking at the wall. His eyes flittered to you for a moment and then he looked away. He didn't have the energy to feel embarrassed about the situation. He just felt tired and numb. 

You frowned, looking him over. He looked like hell. His hair was greasy and shaggy; he always kept his hair in shape. He was unshaven and he had dark bags under his eyes. You could tell that he had lost some weight. It was... kind of sad, honestly. You felt bad for him.

You kneeled beside his bed, looking at his face. "Hey... what's wrong?" You asked softly. His eyes darted in the other direction, avoiding looking at you. You sighed and set an arm on his arm. It was obvious what was wrong with him, he was depressed. 

You stood, taking in the state of his room. There were protein bar wrappers all over his side table and a warm water bottle. At least he was eating and drinking, you supposed. Ghost tried to hide his disappointment when you left the room, but you swiftly returned with a glass of cold water and a sleeve of saltines. 

You moved some of the stuff aside and set the stuff down, sitting on the side of the bed. You brushed some hair out of his face gently. "Why didn't you call me, Simon?" You asked quietly. "I would have asked Price for some time off earlier."

"Embarrassing." Ghost whispered, his voice hoarse from disuse. 

"You're sick, that's not something to be embarrassed about." You spoke. 

"I shouldn't be." Ghost shook his head. "I'm better than this. I'm better than this... depression, this weakness." You smiled sadly. 

"That isn't how it works, Simon... You got injured, you got put out of work, you lost someone really important to you. You're allowed to be struggling. It doesn't make you weak." You said softly. "But you'll get out of this. I'll help you, okay?" 

Ghost didn't say anything, turning his head so he faced the other direction. You sighed and put a hand on his back. Ghost felt his heart drop at that and he wasn't even sure why. "Simon..." 

"You can't fix this, okay? You can't fix me." Ghost said. 

"I'm not trying to fix you. I'm trying to help you feel better. There's a difference." You explained. "Now come on. Sit up for me, okay? I got you some water and it's getting warm." He shook his head and you stared at him for a minute. Your heart hurt, seeing him like this. 

You were stronger than you looked and you stood up, grabbing him under his arms and flipping him, dragging him to sit up against the back of the bed. He looked indignant at this, too surprised to really do anything about it. You sat back down on the bed, grabbing the water and holding it out to him. "I'm not letting you waste away anymore. Now drink. At least half of it, please." You asked. 

He looked at you for a moment, like he was going to say something, but he eventually complied, grabbing the glass with shaky hands and taking a few sips until it was gone. He was thirstier than he thought, and the cold water felt good against his throat. 

"Thank you." You smiled at him and took the glass back. "Do you feel up to eating something? I just brought crackers, nothing big. You didn't really have much anyways." You said. He nodded silently. You opened the pack for him and got a few saltines out for him, handing them to him. He ate a few. He was ashamed of himself, being taken care of like this, having let himself get this weak. He was better than this. The thoughts brought tears to his eyes and that made him feel worse. 

He wiped at his face and sniffled. "This is pathetic. I don't cry. Why am I crying?" 

You set the crackers aside, putting a hand on his leg. "You're allowed to cry. It's not pathetic. Crying is good. It's better than holding everything in." You assured him. 

He looked away, the tears finally falling down his face. He didn't say anything else and neither did you as you pulled him in for a hug. He buried his face in your neck and just silently let the tears fall, his shoulders shaking. You held him gently, rubbing his back and rocking a little. You hated that he was so upset. You hated he got this bad and you weren't here to help him through it. You tried not to think about it; you were here now and that's what mattered. 

He pulled away when he calmed away and he rubbed his face. "I'm sorry." He apologized, looking at the wet patch on the shoulder of your shirt. 

"It's okay." You reassured. "It's a shirt, it will dry. You're more important, I promise." 

He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't feel important. 

"How long has it been since you showered?" You asked him. He shrugged, embarrassed at this answer. 

"I don't know. It's been a while." He said. You nodded. 

"Okay. How about this? You get in the shower for me; you don't even have to wash up if you don't feel like it, you can sit in there if you want. And I'll help you shave. And then I'll leave you alone for a while, okay?" You asked. You wanted him to at least feel a little better and showering and shaving helped with that a bit, you knew. 

He hated that he let himself get this bad. He knew you wouldn't let this go, though. "Okay. I guess." He said quietly.

You were grateful that he didn't argue with you. "Thank you. I'll get you some clothes, you can go ahead and shower if you want." You said. 

He nodded. He dragged himself out of bed and stretched, his bones cracking and his muscles stiff and sore from laying there for so long. He limped his way to the bathroom (a side effect of the energy that resulted in his retirement) and you went to his closet, trying to find some clothes for him. You ended up grabbing some sweatpants, a hoodie, and a towel for him.

You knocked on the door and opened it. Ghost had already gotten into the shower. You set the clothes and towel on the counter for him. "Come get me when you're done, okay?" You asked. He hummed in response and you left him to his own devices. 

You cleaned up his bedroom a little while he showered, waiting for him to finish. 

He eventually stepped out of the bathroom and spoke up, "Hey." 

"Hey." You smiled at him. "Feeling any better?" You asked. He nodded. 

"Yeah, kind of. Thank you." He said quietly. 

"Of course, Simon. That's what I'm here for. It's what friends do." You said softly, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Now come on, let's go work on shaving." You led him back to the bathroom.

There was already a stool in there for when he had to sit to do things so you were glad for that. You sat him down and started digging through his cabinets for what you needed, pulling out a razor, a washcloth, and some shaving cream. 

"Ready?" You asked. He nodded. You turned on the warm water and wet the washcloth, wiping his face with it gently. When his face was wet enough you got some of the shaving cream on your hands and rubbed it on his face, careful not to make too much of a mess with it. 

You grabbed the razor and wet it under the running water. You started at the sides of his face, pressing down gently and dragging the razor along. You did your best not to nic him. You washed the razor off after each swipe and were just as gentle each time you went back. 

Ghost watched your face as you focused. Your eyes were intense and the tip of your tongue stuck out a little. It was kind of cute. 

When you were finished, you grabbed the washcloth and wiped his face again, getting rid of any extra shaving cream and blood from any small wounds he might have. 

You helped him stand up and look in the mirror. He stared at himself for a minute. It was refreshing, seeing himself looking nice for on7ce. His hair wasn't a greasy mess and he was clean-shaven for the first time in months. It made him feel a little bit better about himself. It gave him a little hope, he realized. Maybe he could do this. Maybe things would be okay. 

"Thank you." He said quietly, making eye contact with you in the mirror. 

You smiled softly. "It's what friends are for."

[what-are-wordsss]

Hii

Im not sure if ypu are taking requests but i read one of your writing that had to do with suicideand i wanted to know if you could please write a platonic Aizawa (bnha) in which he got a daughter and she attempted suicide?

Thankss, lately i had been felling suicidal so i thought that reading some confort/angst could help 🫶❤️‍🩹

I hope that you get to feeling better soon, I'm here if you need anything ❤️ Things do get better, you just have to work for it. Ik it's really hard it took me like six years to get where I'm at today and im not even fully recovered yet but things will get better, even if its slowly and even if it's not right now. You've got this ♥️

~

It was the spur of the moment thing, fostering kids. But it wasn't something that Shouta regretted. Especially with the kid that he now considered his daughter who'd been living with him for a while. She'd turned into his whole word, his reason for waking up in the morning. He'd even thought about adopting her.

It had been a bit of a rocky start, like it was with most foster kids but they handled it. She eventually adapted and they learned to live with each other. And eventually they started talking and she started to like Shouta, seeing him as a father figure.

Shouta had thought that things had been fine, that she was recovering from her years in the system but she was struggling more than he knew.

She'd asked to stay home from school one day and Shouta had agreed. He was fairly lenient on mental health days, he knew that she struggled sometimes with dealing with people. He still had to do his own things, so he left for the day, leaving her alone.

When he returned for the night he was met with an odd stillness to the house. It scared him. "Y/N?" He called out, setting his stuff down. He knocked on the door to her room, listening for anything. There was no reply and no movement. "Y/N, are you okay?" He knocked again. He opened the door, scared for her and was met with the sight of his daughter deathly pale in bed with a pill bottle and a note on the bed side table.

He gasped and rushed over, shaking her. "Y/N!" He felt for breathing and was glad that she was. Barely but she was. He pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance, holding his daughter close as he waited for emergency services to arrive.

It was a slippery slope for a few days while they tried to get her body to heal but eventually she was out of the ICU and able to breath on her own. Shouta stayed with her the whole time, so worried for her. How could he miss this?

On the fifth day, she finally woke up. Shouta immediately noticed. "Hey..." He said quietly.

She looked away. "... Hey." Shouta grabbed her hand gently. "Look at me. Please, Y/N."

She hesitated but eventually looked over and met his eyes. He was exhausted and looked so, so worried. "I love you, Y/N. You are my daughter, okay? I'm sorry that I missed this. I'm sorry that you felt like you couldn't come to me."

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. "It's not your fault. It wasn't you, I promise."

He took a deep breath. "I will love you, no matter what happens. We'll get you the help that you need and things will get better, okay? I'll help you work for it, I'll be there for you." He promised. "Come here."

She nodded, leaning over to hug him. He hugged back, holding her gently and rubbing her back. He would be there for her no matter what. He loved her and that's all that mattered.

[what-are-wordsss]

cute chick im talking with just sent me this photo

[what-are-wordsss]

tw sh/suicidal thoughts

Scott Pilgrim goes through it ;3

Lately, Scott's habits have been… getting worse. He'd always hit his head for as long as he'd remembered. Frustrated? He'd hit his head. Sad? He'd hit his head. Any emotion? He'd hit his head. It wasn't a secret he did it but Wallace and everyone had given up trying to break him of it. It didn't seem harmful to anyone.

But lately it has been getting worse. He was leaving bruises on his head and face, not even realizing at the time how hard he was hitting himself.

It all came to a head one night.

Wallace wasn't home and Ramona was busy with Julie. He was alone and that didn't fair to be good for him. Being home meant being alone. Being alone meant being in his own head and for Scott, that wasn't good. He was sitting in the corner of his and Wallace's bed, head in his hands. His thoughts were overwhelming and he couldn't take it. He couldn't stop thinking about how horrible he felt, how much he just wanted things to end. He was sick of things always being like this when he was alone. He was so tired.

His fists slammed into his forehead and he cried out, wether from the physical or emotional pain he wasn't sure. It worked for a solid two seconds, silencing his head. But it didn't work forever. He tried harder, the thud of his hands echoing out loud. His vision swam, dark spots flooding the edges of his vision. But it didn't feel enough. He growled and one last time, swung his hands into his face, this time many times in a flurry of fists. There was a sickening crunch and the smell of blood invaded his nose before he had the chance to realize what happened. He slumped against the wall, stunned from his own actions. The vision in his left was blurred and suddenly went black and confused, he reached up and rubbed it. He pulled his hand away from the sticky wet sensation and frowned deeper at the sight of blood.

He stared for maybe a good few minutes before realizing what he did. Oh God, oh God, what did he do, what did he do- With a desperate noise he scrambled for the phone. Moving made him dizzy but he pursued, punching in a number he knew from heart. He whimpered as he pulled the phone into his lap.

It rang. And rang and rang and rang until it went to voicemail. He tried again and a third time. On his fourth try, the annoyed voice of Wallace answered the phone. “Scott, you know I'm on a date. What do you want?” He sighed

Scott groaned, pain making itself know. “W-Wallace. Wallace I did something and I'm scared.”

There was a shuffling sound on the other end of the line and a sushiing noise. The frown was evident on his voice when he answered, “Scott? What do you mean guy? What happened?”

“I don't know.” He whimpered again. “There's- There's blood and I'm dizzy and Im scared. Wallace, please.”

“Shit man. I'm on my way. Stay awake, okay? Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?” More shuffling and cursing and the sound of keys.

Scott nodded.

“Scott? Answer me, man.”

“Please.”

“Okay. Okay, um. Tell me about Pac-Man or Sonic.” Wallace suggested. The sound of a vehicle starting was heard.

“I can't. I can't Wallace, I don't know. I'm scared, I can't.” He sounded like he was beginning to hyperventilate.

“Breathe, guy. It'll be okay.” Wallace tried to reassure. “You said there's blood? I need you to try to find where it's coming from, okay? And I need you to grab a towel from the bathroom and hold it there.”

Scott nodded again. He set the phone down and shakily stood up. He stumbled to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to stick on his head. He sat back down on the bed, avoiding the blood he got in it. Head wounds bleed a lot he distantly remembered.

“Okay I got it.” He mumbled, bringing the towel to his head.

“Hang in there, okay? I'm almost there.”

“Okay.” Scott wanted to cry. His head hurt and he was dizzy and he wanted someone there.

He heard a rattle of keys and in came Wallace, phone still in head. He looked Scott up and down and frowned. “Oh, man… Scott, what did you do.” He sat his stuff down on the floor and walked over, sitting in front of Scott.

Scott sobbed, tears filling his eyes. Wallace grabbed the towel from him, wiping off the blood to see the damage.

In reality it wasn't that bad, just a small wound. It wouldn't even need stitches. “Man… what happened?”

Scott shook his head and regretted it, black spots invading his vision again. “I can't. I can't, Wallace, I can't do this-”

“Scott. Breathe. Come on, you have to tell me what happened.” Wallace pushed.

“I hit my head.” He frowned. “I do it all the time. You know I do. I don't know what happened. I don't know.”

Wallace held the towel to his friend's head with one hand, rubbing his back with the other. “Oh, Scott… It's okay. You're okay. It'll be alright, man.” He sighed, unsure what to do.

“Okay. Okay, come on man. Stand up. We need to get you to the ER.” Wallace said.

“No! No no no we- we can't. We can't go, please-”

Wallace cut him off with a hand on his arm. “Okay. Okay Scott, we won't go. But you have to stay up for a little while, okay? I don't know if you have a concussion so I don't want you to die.”

Some part of Scott thought maybe he should, but he pushed that down for another time. He nodded. He could do that.

He pulled the towel off his face so Wallace could check the bleeding. Luckily, it'd stopped with pressure.

Wallace stepped over him and sat in the corner, holding his arms out for Scott. Scott looked at him for a minute before falling into his arms. Wallave wrapped his arms around him and started playing with his hair gently. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Scott nodded silently and melted into his touch.

Wallace held his friend for hours until it was safe for him to sleep, his heart hurting for the pain that his friend went through.

[what-are-wordsss]

Hi! I'm opening commissions! (For writing)

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I won't write anything NSFW and the farthest I'll go with romance is probably just kissing and hugging. I am a minor ^_^

[what-are-wordsss]

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[what-are-wordsss]

Resources For Describing Emotion

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Without Making Your Character Feel Too Self Aware

Showing Emotion Without Telling About It

Emotions Associated With Body Language

Telling Readers What The Character Doesn’t Want To Show

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Expressing Cardinal Emotions: Masculine vs. Feminine

Writing Extreme Emotion Without Melodrama

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Conveying Shock

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[what-are-wordsss]

Alright.

Instead of whispered, consider:

murmured

mumbled

muttered

breathed

sighed

hissed

mouthed

uttered

intoned

susurrated

purred

said in an undertone

gasped

hinted

said low

said into someone’s ear

said softly

said under one’s breath

said in hushed tones

insinuated

[what-are-wordsss]

the suffering never ends

[what-are-wordsss]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Additional Tags: Separation Anxiety, Sort Of, One Shot, Fluff, Light Angst, Like its barely there, shouta just misses someone, Romance, Literal Sleeping Together, Married Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Established Relationship Series: Part 5 of EraserMic Summary:

Hizashi's on a business trip. Shouta misses him.

[what-are-wordsss]

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femoral artery (inner thigh)

thoracic aorta (chest & heart)

abdominal aorta (abdomen)

brachial artery (upper arm)

radial artery (hand & forearm)

common carotid artery (neck)

aorta (heart & abdomen)

axillary artery (underarm)

popliteal artery (knee & outer thigh)

anterior tibial artery (shin & ankle)

posterior tibial artery (calf & heel)

arteria dorsalis pedis (foot)

Cuts/Lacerations

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In the Head

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In the Head

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[what-are-wordsss]

I am unable to move.

The blankets and the clothes weigh down, like they're made of steel and the burdens all pile up until there's a mountain on top of me.

The voices ring in my head, but I have to sit there and listen because I can't move. They taunt me, and push and prod at my most vulnerable buttons, I hate myself for letting them.

I can't move because of the constant berate from my brain because I didn't get a perfect grade or I didn't tell my mum I loved her because I thought this would be my last day on this Earth.

If I move the mountain will come tumbling down and I don't know if I can put it back up again.

I don't know if I can move without crumbling, letting the mask crack and letting myself go one last time.

I imagine a death where I can be free, and it isn't painful. It's relieving.

I create a world in my head where everyone is happy without me. Because I can't make them happy with me. I can't be good enough.

I can't move because if I lay there long enough, maybe I will simply cease to exist. I will float into my own head and be forgotten.

I'm drowning, but there is no water around me. I can't breathe but around me there is only air. I can't move but there's nothing on top of me.

I can't move, but I get up anyway. Because I have to be there. I have to slip a mask on, pushing away all the hatred in a boat that will find its way to the shore of my brain sometime later.

I walk on and go about my day, acting like the boat isn't caught in the middle of a storm and threatening to capsize like I'm not one push from the edge of the world, like everything isn't going to spill out when I've finally broken.

I'm too young to feel this pain, too young to be weighed down with this, so I get up. I push on because I have to. I have to be perfect.

….I can't move.

[what-are-wordsss]

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[what-are-wordsss]

@1-800-get-somesleep ily platonically bro so-

I hope you don't mind I extended what you wrote-

****

Missing Assignments

Tenya Iida x Reader

You'd been sick for the past week, not feeling good enough to go to class. You dreaded the work when you go back, knowing you'd have a great amount to do.

Like you figured, you were right. You went to Aizawa to get the work, and he gave you a stack of papers. You had missed a lot of work. And you still had the work for that week to finish too. Fuck germs.

You took extra notes in class that day, not wanting to miss anything more than you already had. You couldn't afford to.

Going to your room after school to start, you pulled out the work. It seemed more intimidating now that you actually had to do it. Pulling out a pencil and what you needed you sat at your desk before looking at the work. It seemed... pretty okay. Or so you thought.

After about an hour, you realized you weren't going to get anywhere with work you didn't fully understand and you couldn't get low marks on your assignments.

Sighing, you stood up, resigning to go get a snack and drink from the dorm kitchen. Maybe that would help you focus. Slipping on slippers and opening the door, you head to the kitchen, opening the fridge and scanning it. You jumped when you felt a hand on your should.

"Y/N, you missed quite a lot of school. Are you okay?" It was Tenya. You looked at him, closing the fridge door.

"I'm good, I just got sick." You replied.

He seemed to be thinking for a moment. "Have you got your makeup work Y/N?" He asked you.

You nodded. You'd gotten it and an overwhelming amount at that.

"Would you like help with it?"

The question caught you off guard, seeing as you weren't expecting it. After registering the question, you nodded. It should be fine, right?

**

Tenya was better at teaching then you'd been expecting. He knew how to explain things properly, and when you need. He didn't rush you and he answered any questions you had. It was surprising.

"Thanks Tenya-kun." You did when he urged you to take a small break so you didn't overwork yourself.

"Of course!" He bowed politely. "Anything for a fellow classmate!"

[what-are-wordsss]

EraserMic "Can't help falling in love with you."

"Hey Shou?" Hizashi held out a hand to Shouta. It was late at the, the two of them getting to spend time together since they both had both just got off work.

There was a soft moonlight filling their kitchen, from the full moon outside their window. The radio was on, an English song on. Elvis. Their song, Can't Help Falling in Love.

Shouta took his hand, giving him a soft smile as Hizashi's arms wrapped around his hips. He put his back around Hizashi's.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in."

Yeah, maybe Hizashi rushed in to being Shouta's friend. But he didn't regret. He never would.

"But I can't help falling in love with you."

Hizashi pulled Shouta in for a soft kiss, a hand going to hold the small of his back. He pulled him closer.

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?"

He stayed. Shouta stayed with him the whole time and it amazed him to no remark. Shouta stayed, after everything. And Gods, did he love him.

"If I can't help falling in love with you?"

Shouta looked at Hizashi, a soft smile that normally wasn't there gracing his face. He buried his face in his shoulder as the song ended and a host came on to talk about different things.

"I love you, Shou." Hizashi whispered into Shouta's hair, loving. He loved Shouta so much it hurt sometimes. He loved everything about him, from the way he talked, to the way the man could just fall asleep anywhere.

"Love you too." Shouta whispered back, arms around his husband tightly. Even as the song was off, they still swayed. Shouta wasn't letting Hizashi go.

Hizashi reached over with a hand, turning off the radio and pulling Shouta to their shared bedroom. Shouta trailed behind, biting back a yawn.

Hizashi chuckled, and pushed Shouta to sit. Shouta say with fake exasperation, rolling his eyes. Hizashi bapped his head jokingly.

He sat down and pulled Shouta into his arms. Shouta relaxed instantly. Hizashi shivered and hugged him tight, holding him close as they both melted into each other. He wanted it to stay this way forever, comfortable and safe and soft and warm. Just loving.

It didn't take long for Shouta to drift off on top of Hizashi, a hand curled into his shirt. Almost child-like. His features were smoothed over, soft and relaxed. Hizashi was glad to see him like this, calm and safe. That's all he wanted for his husband. As he drifted off too, a last thought drifted through his head.

"I can't help, falling in love with you."

[what-are-wordsss]

A scene where two characters are attracted to one another but don't speak it aloud.

Write It.

[what-are-wordsss]

Quoting vines

Denki Kaminari

-You were sitting next to him on the bus when you were on your way to a hero museum for a class trip when you saw a road work sign.

-In a moment's decision you decided to say, "Road work ahead?" not expecting an answer.

-"Uh, yeah, I sure hope it does." You heard Kaminari say from beside you. A grin split your face.

-The two of you spent the whole ride quoting vines with each other, much to Bakugou's annoyment.

~~

Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead

-The class was on a trip to the mall to pick up different things, whether it to help in your studies or your hobbies.

-You were looking at the let section, and if course, Aizawa was looking at cat items.

-You picked up a bag of catnip and hid a grin, walking up to him. "Look dad, it's the good kush."

-He have you a deadpan stare, before replying. "It's the dollar store, how good could it get?"

-You were taken back. How did he know that??

-You spent the rest of the shopping trip, wondering that very thing.

~~

Toshinori Yagi | All Might

-"You are my dad. You're my dad, boogie woogie woogie."

-Toshinori looked over at you, very confused.

-You bit back a laugh at his expression.

-After a few moments of thinking, he replied "I'm glad that you see me as a father figure."

-You started laughing full out at that.

-Toshinori is still confused. "Did I say something wrong?"

-You were quick to reassure that nothing wrong was said, and that it was a vine.

-He seemed alarmed. "A vine? Do I need to have a talk with your parents."

-You shook your head and explained what a vine was.

-Cue a very embarrassed Toshinori at his mistake.