#anyway between that and checking on my other class and just my nerves in general i've been kinda quiet but!! i have written some stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettytoxicrevolver · 3 years

Text

Finally | Corpse Husband

Requested? For once, yes! LMAO I hope you like it :)

Warnings? Nah

Summary: You and Corpse after being best friend's for years now finally break the distance

Word Count: 1,388

“Come on pick up pick up,” you whisper as you watch your phone ring over and over.

“Hello?” your best friend picks up and you grin widely.

“Corpse!!!” you yell and he flinches but smiles anyway.

“Guess where I am,” you continue.

“I don’t fucking know uh,”

“I’m at the car wash!!” you yell and turn your camera to show him you’re midway through the tunnel that washes your car.

“Okay?” he questions still uncertain as to why you insisted on calling him and telling him you were at the car wash.

“Remember I told you about the last time I was here,” you start, and realization washes over the older boy’s face.

“Oh my fucking god,” he groans and you laugh loudly. “You didn’t know how to put your car in neutral.”

“I figured it out this time!” you cheer loudly.

“I’m proud of you,” he says and you smile.

You realize you’re getting to the end of the tunnel and hold up one finger to Corpse, dropping your phone in the cup holder next to you. You put your car back into drive, cheering as you do so, and pull out of the cave-like building. You grab your phone as you start to exit, propping it up so you can see Corpse once more.

“And you even know how to put it in drive. My best friend is a fucking genius,” he says and you laugh.

“Shut the fuck up,” you joke.

As you drive, you tell Corpse about your day, happy to be seeing and talking to your best friend. You felt like you hadn’t talked to Corpse in ages, but really it had probably been two days since you last facetimed, and an hour since your last text exchange.

You and Corpse had been best friends for ages now, finding each other through the beauty of loving Machine Gun Kelly. You had fallen in love with the older rapper and his music just as Corpse was starting his youtube channel. You had been following numerous fan accounts and found Corpse’s with a decent following and a slowly building YouTube channel.

He had followed you back, and after a few interactions on the timeline and later in direct messages, you two never stopped talking. He trusted you with a face reveal, staking your life on the fact that you would never betray him like that.

Over the years you had only grown closer despite the distance between the two of you. Being across the world from each other sucked but it never really stopped the two of you. You had synced sleep schedules whether it was with you falling into California time or him falling into east coast time. You had tried your best to seem like you were closer than you actually were.

You both for a while were apprehensive to meet, and in general, were a bit too busy. You knew when you met you would want to spend the better part of a week or two together, finally enjoying each other’s company. You both made a million plans whenever you were on the phone, deciding that it was going to take you ages for you to get the things done you wanted to do at either your house or corpse’s.

You lay on the floor of your living room, your class had just ended and you were going to get up and get food but ended up on the carpet, trying to reach something. As you lay there, your phone rings, and you maneuver it out of your back pocket before swiping answer on the call.

Corpse’s face pops up and you smile wide at your best friend, it takes him a second, looking at your background before tilting his head in confusion.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I was trying to grab something on the ground and couldn’t reach it so I gave up,” you explain and you both end up cackling together.

“Anyways,” he says making you giggle. “I found out another thing we have to do together when you come here.”

“Wait let me get the list up,” you say switching apps to the note on your phone of the millions of activities that you and Corpse would complete when you would visit him one day in the future.

“We have to go to LACMA,” he says and you type it in the notes before switching back to facetime and giving your best friend a confused look.

“It’s an art museum I’ve always wanted to see. We can go and take pictures and be dramatic about the art,” he explains and you grin.

“Fuck yeah I love it,” you say.

Silence washes over the two of you, both of you having the exact same thought at the same time, thousands of miles away. Why couldn’t you two just be near each other? Your eyes try not to trail to each other, knowing any words might break the other.

“Hey,” he finally says and you look up at your phone again. “Come visit me.”

“Corpse,” you say and he shakes his head, defiance in his voice.

“Visit me. I’m sick of this distance. I miss you and I wanna meet you and hug you and complete the list we’ve been working on for years. Come on,” he says and every word has you more motivated than the one before.

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly. It’s time. Come visit me.”

You and Corpse had started planning the minute you had hung up the phone that night. How long you would stay, getting your time off work, buying the plane tickets, everything. You grew more and more excited as each part of the plan was solidified.

You had only a few days left till you got to see your best friend and your nerves were now at an all-time high. You sat in your room, double-checking that you packed everything and packed it perfectly. Your phone rings, your set ringtone for Corpse playing and you dive onto your bed as you answer it.

“Please tell me you’re not checking your suitcase again,” he says and you smile.

“I’m nervous okay, don’t tell me you’re not nervous,” you respond.

“I’m terrified. What if you’re secretly a murderer that has lured me into complacency after all these years?”

“Ooh that would be a good story,” you say and you both end up laughing.

“See you tomorrow,” he says after a bit.

“I’ll be there.”

Your excitement courses through you the entire ride to the airport, during the plane ride, and skyrockets when you step foot in LAX. You were a wreck, not being able to stop moving as you grabbed your backpack and carry on and bouncing nervously in the middle of the plane, wanting to run out as soon as possible.

You text Corpse, telling him you made it off the plane and he tells you that he’s at baggage claim. It hits you like a ton of bricks, that your best friend was in the same building as you, and that you’d finally be with him after all this time. You’re practically running through the airport, finding the correct escalator, and making your way down.

As the escalator moves slowly down you look around anxiously and there you spot him. Corpse stands not too far from the escalators, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in hand and a messily written but absolutely adorable sign with your name on it. You’re beaming so hard your face hurts and as if he can feel your gaze his eyes lock with yours.

His smile reflects yours, and without thinking, you book it down the escalator. You drop your things, your brain focused on Corpse and getting to him. Corpse drops his stuff too, running to meet you and a laugh escapes you, just as you crash into each other.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, his grabbing around your waist and you both teeter back and forth in the hug. Part of you wants to pull back, look him in the face and finally see him but nothing, nothing could pull you from his touch. You press your face into his neck, your heart pounding as you breathe in the scent of his cologne, and smile wide.

“Finally,” he whispers into your hair and you giggle.

#corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #youtuber x reader #youtuber imagine #x reader #corpse x y/n #x y/n #corpse x reader #corpse husband fic #fic #imagine #bravebesson

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plan-d-to-i · 3 years

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(google translate again, yeah)

(I forgot to thank you for the last answer, I really didn't know that the drama used the music of my compatriot, it was a pleasant surprise for me)

I don't know if anyone has asked you this before, but do you think JC was good with WWX as a kid?

I mean not just their childhood, but the time of their training in Gusu.

I really love JC, and I understand perfectly well that he is the most dick in character, but I love him precisely during my studies at Gusu, I can not give any arguments that then JC was directly GOOD to WWX, but he is clearly cared a little about him and even ... worried? at least that moment after the punishment where JC helped WWX get to the room...

Yay - I'm so happy to hear about Stravinsky :)

Hahah loving jc as the dick that he is is the way to do it! go for it. :) also, sorry this was so delayed I wanted to reread the Cloud Recesses arc so it would be fresh in my mind before answering.

In terms of jc the Cloud Recesses arc is perhaps the most 'mellow' we see him aside from the Lotus Pod Extra but for me it's still impossible to find him a worthwhile person. I can already see the faults in his character that I know will only get worse as he grows older. Canonically I don't see how he would have any friends studying in the Cloud Recesses if he didn't come as a package deal w Wei Wuxian. I mean I doubt jiang cheng would have any friends without WWX period. In fact jiang cheng doesn't make any friends over the course of 13 years. He's also unable to find a wife bc of his temperament and behavior...

What we can glean about their relationship in the Cloud Recesses arc (and even the Lotus Pod Extra) is that any time WWX gets a kind word or understanding from someone, jiang cheng scoffs at it. Any time someone shits on WWX, jc is there to agree, to relish the idea of WWX being punished, and shit on him some more. He would be an immensely exhausting person to be around. He doesnt believe in WWX's ideas and ingenuity, (as NHS does for example), he doesn't believe WWX is hurt, he always assumes the worst of him, he doesn't believe LWJ might like WWX. The only thing he ever seems to believe is that WWX will dishonor YunmengJiang and that WWX should be punished. So for a kid who supposedly wants his father's approval so badly he instead constantly acts like his mother's mouthpiece/minion. He reprimands WWX like he's trying to become Madam Yu 2.0. I see jc stans all the time being like oh he had to keep WWX in check bc WWX was such a lOOooose canon, for the good of the Clan!! lol listen JFM didn't give a f...about WWX's behavior (in his letter to LQR) why are you so concerned? JFM would have preferred for jc to try & save his peers in the Xuanwu cave or at least to understand why that was the correct course of action rather than for him to just sit in front of the class in the Cloud Recesses and tell WWX off for giving LQR as good as he got, while actually still breaking the rules himself but eschewing punishment.

salt up here, quotes below :

Even when Nie Huaisang picks up on the fact that WWX is being treated unfairly by LQR, jc dismisses it and piles on WWX instead.

Nie Huaisang said, “Old Man Lan really seems like he’s coming down especially harshly on you. Every time he reprimands someone, it’s always you.” Jiang Cheng grunted. “He deserves it. What kind of answer was that? He can get away with saying that sort of nonsense at home, but he had the nerve to say it to Lan Qiren’s face. He was practically asking for the old man to kill him!”

But does WWX get away with ANYTHING in Lotus Pier? When we know he is punished constantly for EVERYTHING? This is jiang cheng fully being his mother's mouth piece. It's not something WWX would get away with, it's something jc knows JFM wouldn't mind. Which is why he's so pissed off. Which begs the question if JFM would not be upset with WWX's behavior why does jc need to criticize him? Again :

A dark expression shadowed Jiang Cheng’s face, and his voice was filled with anger. “Why are you so proud of yourself? What is there to be proud of?! Is being told to get out some amazing accomplishment? You’re making our entire clan lose face!”

and his glee at the idea that WWX will be punished leaves a bad taste in one's mouth considering how WWX was perpetually punished in Lotus Pier by jiang cheng's mother for... existing.

Jiang Cheng smiled grimly. “Now that you’ve thoroughly offended both Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren, you’re basically dead tomorrow. No one’s going to clean up your corpse either.”

and again

Without the old one, only the young one remained. This would be easy to deal with! Wei Wuxian rolled off the bed and laughed while putting on his boots. “Heaven’s charmed clouds are blessing me with shade.” Jiang Cheng was beside him polishing his sword with loving care when he decided to spill cold water over Wei Wuxian’s head. “Just wait until he gets back. You can’t escape punishment.”

Where others like NHS see value in WWX's thoughts

Nie Huaisang thought for a while. “Actually, I thought what you said was very interesting,” he said, not entirely able to hide his envy and yearning.

jc is always dismissive of WWX's ideas. These are inventions that WWX realizes. Demonic cultivation in the first conversation and The Spirit-Attraction Flag and The Compass of Evil in the second:

“Enough,” Jiang Cheng warned. “Whatever nonsense you spout, you better not head down that sort of dark road.”

Changing the topic, Wei Wuxian said, “If only there was something like fishing bait that could draw the water ghosts in. Or, something that could point in the direction they’re hiding, like a compass, that sort of thing.”

“Lower your head and watch the water,” Jiang Cheng said. “You’re letting your fantasies run wild again. Concentrate on looking for water ghosts like you’re supposed to.”

“Hey, mounting swords and flying was also only a fantasy once!” Wei Wuxian said.

He's also a hypocrite. Because even though he berates WWX for misbehaving, he himself breaks the rules. He drinks, he even goads WWX into buying liquor, the only difference is that he doesn't get punished for it, and he doesn't feel like coming forward and getting punished for it :

Naturally, Jiang Cheng was too embarrassed to talk about what Wei Wuxian had been up to. After all, all of them had egged him on to go and buy alcohol, and they all deserved to be punished as well. He could only speak vaguely. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s not that bad! He can walk. Wei Wuxian, why haven’t you gotten off yet?”

It's no wonder WWX is so impressed by LWJ's integrity in spite of his social status, when he's clearly used to the other dynamic :

“Lan Zhan, I really admire you,” Wei Wuxian said sincerely. “After I told you that you had to punish yourself too, you actually did it. You didn’t let yourself off at all. I can’t argue against that.”

A dynamic which is shown repeating in the Lotus Pod Extra where WWX is the only one to get punished for sunbathing, and which repeats here when Wei Wuxian here stops jiang cheng from confronting Zixuan over YanLi's honor (and jc's) and does it himself.

Zixuan :“Why don’t you ask what about her could make me satisfied?” he said in return.

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng rose. Wei Wuxian pushed him away and stepped between them, smiling coldly. “You think you’re very satisfactory? As though you have the right to be so picky!”

Zixuan: “If she’s unhappy, then let her break off the engagement! I certainly don’t cherish your wonderful disciple-sister. If you cherish her so much, why don’t you take it up with your father? Doesn’t he love you more than his own son?”

After hearing the last sentence, Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed, and Wei Wuxian was no longer able to contain his own fury. He flew at Jin Zixuan, his fist raised.

WWX takes the punishment alone. Same way he offers to do when he hurts himself falling from a tree because jc threatened him with dogs. meanwhile jc is gleeful to see him being punished.

[Wei Wuxian] was kneeling on the stretch of pebble road to which Lan Qiren had assigned him when Jiang Cheng walked over from afar and mocked him. “You’re kneeling so obediently.”

“It’s not like you don’t know I have to do this all the time.” Wei Wuxian’s voice filled with schadenfreude. “But this Jin Zixuan guy, there’s no way he hasn’t been pampered and spoiled rotten since birth. No one’s ever forced him to kneel, I’m sure of it. If he doesn’t wind up crying for mommy and daddy today, I’m not named Wei.”....

Wei Wuxian "...It’s a good thing you didn’t do anything.”

“I was going to. If you hadn’t pushed me away, the other side of Jin Zixuan’s face would be hideous too.”

“Stop it. His face is uglier for being lopsided."

WWX is happy to have spared jc from getting into trouble but jc makes the whole thing about himself anyway (like everything else ever) and is upset JFM would rush over for WWX - in his mind. Even though JFM clearly had to rush over to meet with Jin Guangshan not to coddle WWX in any way.

"Jiang Fengmian had never rushed to another clan in less than a day because of him. Regardless of whether what happened was big or small, or good or bad." Never

WWX on the other hand tries to be observant of jc's feelings and reassure him & distract him from his moods :

When Wei Wuxian saw Jiang Cheng’s melancholy expression, he thought he was still upset with what Jin Zixuan said. “You should leave. You don’t need to keep me company any longer. If Lan Wangji comes again, he’ll catch you. If you have time, you should find Jin Zixuan and watch his pitiful kneeling.”

Later in the book after nearly dying in the Xuanwu cave WWX leaves his sick bed to run after jc and comfort him after his mother's rant, even though WWX had to listen to his parents (and himself) being slandered by YZY. jc doesn't spare any thoughts for how other people might be feeling or suffering. His entire perception of the world is centered around himself. To him even WWX's greatest fear doesn't generate empathy, only amusement or later on a form of torture.

From that point onward, they made trouble everywhere together, and if they encountered a dog, Jiang Cheng would always chase it away for him, then enjoy a peal of derisive, unbridled laughter at Wei Wuxian’s expense beneath whichever tree the boy had leapt atop.

he grew up on the streets, often having to fight for food with vicious dogs. After several bites and chases, he gradually became extremely scared of all dogs, no matter the size. Jiang Cheng laughed at him because of this quite a lot of times.

This brings me to the last point. jc's resentment of WWX's interest in Lan Zhan, or in a serious friendship outside of him. I see so many ppl say that bc WWX fought he was kicked out of the Cloud Recesses early... but was he?

Jiang Cheng was somewhat taken aback. “Lan Wangji? What was he doing here? He still has the nerve to come see you again?”

“Yeah, I think his bravery is laudable if he still has the nerve to come see me. His uncle probably told him to check on me and see if I was kneeling properly.”

Jiang Cheng’s instincts were sending him ominous signals. “So were you kneeling properly?”

“I was then,” Wei Wuxian replied. “But I waited for him to walk away a bit, then took a tree branch, lowered my head, and dug out a hole in the dirt near me. It’s the pile right by your foot—there are ant tunnels there. It took me so much effort to find them. Anyway, I waited for him to turn back and see my shoulders shaking. He had to have thought I was crying, so he came back and asked. You should have seen his face when he caught sight of the ant tunnels!

“…” Jiang Cheng said, “Why don’t you just get the hell out and go back to Yunmeng? I bet he never wants to see you again.”

Thus, that evening, Wei Wuxian packed up his things, got the hell out, and went back to Yunmeng with Jiang Fengmian.

Repeatedly throught his stay in the Cloud Recesses even while NHS was observing that LWJ's behavior around WWX was strange and unique, jc was telling WWX he is hated and bothersome. When WWX wanted to apologize to LWJ jc is completely dismissive of it :

“He hates me already? I was thinking of apologizing to him,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Oh, so you want to apologize now? It’s too late!” Jiang Cheng said derisively. “He’s exactly like his uncle. He thinks you’ve been wicked ever since you were an embryo, so it’s beneath his dignity to pay you any attention.”

Later on when WWX mentioned wanting to invite LWJ to Lotus Pier jc categorically says no.

“Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

BONUS

jc also always doubts WWX. He suspects him immediately of wrongdoings. He doesn't believe that getting hit with the discipline ruler in Cloud Recesses actually hurt him until LXC confirms that WWX might take more than a few days to heal. He doesn't understand WWX is in actual trouble from the Waterborne abyss and assumes he's fooling around luckily Lan Zhan is there to rescue him:

The disciple’s lower body had already been swallowed by the black whirlpool. It spun faster and faster, and he continued to sink deeper and deeper, as though something hidden beneath the water was pulling down on his legs.

Mounted on Sandu, Jiang Cheng had risen calmly until he was about sixty meters above the whirlpool before he looked down. Filled with displeasure at what he saw, he shouted and dove down. “What are you up to now?!”

The suction force inside Lake Biling grew ever stronger. Wei Wuxian’s sword was optimized for agility, and consequently, its strength happened to fall just short, and they were nearly pulled to the surface of the lake. Wei Wuxian steadied himself and held on to Su She with both hands.

“Someone help! If I can’t pull him up soon, I’ll have to let go!” he shouted.

Suddenly, the back of Wei Wuxian’s collar tightened, and his body was lifted into the air. He twisted his neck and saw Lan Wangji holding him up with one hand.

He maintains this same mindset when he tries to whip LWJ and WWX as they're attempting to leave Lotus Pier after the ancestral hall confrontation when WWX passes out.

Is jc evil in the Cloud Recesses ? No. He's just an annoying, basic, disagreeable asshole who doesn't bring anything positive to someone like WWX. People like jc become obsessed with kind, outgoing, generous people, people who don't set boundaries on what they give and what others take in their friendships. Even though they're dependent on them for their social interactions, because who else would socialize with them willingly, they resent them in equal measure, but at the same time they wouldn't be drawn to another selfish, self centered piece of shit person like themselves.

On a personal note, even Cloud Recesses jiang cheng is someone I would exclude from any personal friend group. Friendship with him is adding a minefield of jealousies and snide comments to every interaction. Things that then others will need to compensate around because he won't compromise or empathize w issues outside of his own concerns.

Translation source : x

#This is long af because I wanted to have one post where I included everything #I’ve bitched about jc’s behavior in the cloud recesses for a long time so it was time to put down the quotes #mdzs #Cloud Recesses #Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #Nie Huaisang #jiang cheng

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i-need-air · 3 years

Text

"Dude" — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader [P.2]

Word count: 6.7k;

[ Part 1 ]; [ Masterlist ]

The new message plastered on your phonescreen earned a small smile from you. After a couple of days of sitting together at the same table due to Mei dumping your lonely ass for her babies, Mina suggested to text just to keep in contact more often. Something you did not expect was to be thrown in a group text with her and her friends.

They were absolutely hilarious; until recently they found out you had decent grades and started asking for your assistance, bugging you to join their study sessions, adding something about Bakugou being an absolute beast whenever he tutors them.

Pinky: Aww sucks that you're not coming! You're missing out Bakugou strangling Kaminari lmfao

You rolled your eyes in amusement. Why of course he'd be doing that.

What a strange little man. He really was; just as you started sitting with them, he'd mainly mind his own business, wearing his normal resting gremlin face and poking his food as if he was practicing murder just for the sake of it. First he orders you to sit with them, then he turns into an antisocial bastard most of the times. Yet, somehow, lunch with them was delightful and you found yourself looking forward to spend time with them, hear about their amusing stories and to top it all, making fun of The Great Bakugou Katsuki turned the whole event into a whole different level of fun.

As you weren't completely oblivious, his wandering eyes were really hard to miss anyway; you'd catch his gaze from time to time and he'd look away, annoyed, grunting like the man-child he actually was. Infuriating; how your heart skipped every single time it happened and how you wanted to have those deep crimson orbs on you again and again.

One thing you did not want to do was to leave Mei to the side; whenever she couldn't hang out she would inform you and you'd find something else to entertain yourself with; in occasions you did march in her workshop and sat your royal ass down without permission. Like as you did today, sitting in silence, you enjoyed the normal machinery sounds and her focused hums as she worked with you by her side. It was calming. The much needed calmness that you craved.

It's been a couple of weeks after the glorious incident and you have been noticing how your classmates, mostly the popular ones, started giving you the stink eye; your spidey-senses very much aware that it had to be Midori's doing yet the girl was keeping a very low profile. The hairs on the back of your neck rising whenever you thought about her next step because this level of radio silence was suspicious.

Between your growing interest into the blond and the dread related to your nemesis, Mei stopped her hard work to frown at you.

"Something's on your mind?" She probed, adjusting her goggles better on her head. "You're awfully quiet~"

Through a small giggle, you nodded but took some time to answer. "I guess?"

"Let me rephrase that." She cleared her throat dramatically "Someone's on your mind?"

A sharp gasp left your lips, realization kicking in; you had Hatsume Mei's full attention for the first time ever. In the workshop. Where her babies were! About to point it out, she narrowed her eyes at you, zooming onto you.

"[Y/N]." It's all she needed to say before you looked down, mind on one person in particular, not noticing how your friend smiled fondly to herself as she placed her hands on her hips; she chuckled lightly.

"Mind sharing what's funny with the class, Mei?" You asked trying to decrypt her expression still locked on you. She shrugged and shook her head, her wild pink locks moving wildly.

"OI, WERD—" the brash voice interrupted itself in reconsideration. The owner of said voice clicked his tongue and entered her workspace with indifference, looking around. "My gauntlets fixed?" He asked, curiously checking the lone couch in the corner, then turning his glare at her.

Ignoring his question, Mei's inquisitive gaze locked on him. "Are you looking for someone?"

It was as if she pressed a Total Destruction button because even the hairs on his head spiked up more than normally as he threw her a bloodshot glare.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LOOK FOR [Y/N]?! I DON'T EVEN CARE WHERE—"

"I didn't mention [Y/N] at all though." she cheerily retorted, seeing his position stiffen even more.

"WHAT— WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT— WHO EVEN IS [Y/N]?!" Word-vomit took over; he was shaking at this point, panicked and cringing at his own mistake. "I'm SO FUCKING DONE with people giving me SHIT about that dumbass!" he kicked a table trying to prove a point but the girl was unimpressed.

"So you do know [Y/N]."

"YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK YOU, GOGGLES! Fucking bothersome assholes always buttin' in—" his voice started fading into the distance as he walked out, fuming with nerves.

She blinked before screaming "What about your gauntlets?" through a smile.

"OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, GIVE ME—" he appeared once again, agitated.

A wave of lava filled your chest as she told you casually, even trying to copy the way he talked, making you laugh in exchange. You shouldn't feel that way, shouldn't you? It was ridiculous since he truly only insulted you and screamed in your general direction; well, it seems he screamed in every direction but it wasn't the point. The point was the warmth in your chest only gave you hope and the still functioning part of your brain begged to differ.

"He's a good guy." You whispered, suddently shy under Mei's knowing gaze.

And he called her Goggles too. You giggled fondly.

—

A few days later, wild gutural screams made you jolt from your desk in panic. You would've recognized that voice anywhere by now so you rushed towards the infirmary door just to find professor Aizawa and two cocoons made of his scarf behind him. His eyebrow was twitching and had a dark aura around him, eyes glowing menacingly but not directed to you.

"I'll fucking kill you—"

"But Kaccha—"

"Silence." The irritated and tired looking man said entering the room, dragging said cocoons behind him, knocking one in the door and pulling harder. You cringed, sure thinking he wasn't having a good day.

"OOF— What the shit was that?" The bundle started to shake uncontrollably which made you giggle. It stopped; halted and froze in place listening attentively as you tried to hide your laughter, trying not to annoy the teacher that seriously gave off a whole Done with life aura.

"You must be [L/N]." he pointed out, undoing one of the cocoons, a big fluffy broccoli like head appearing, big green eyes trying to focus.

"Yes, sir."

"They're beaten. Broken leg and broken rib. Can you heal them or should we wait for Recovery Girl?" The dark haired man went straight to business.

"I can handle that so no need to wait for her."

"Good. I'll leave them in your care." With a nod, he also released the blond, making him tumble and fall on his face. The poor guy groaned but bolted up with a raised fist.

"Behave." The older man said walking away, not really caring about Bakugou's heated muttering. The door shut gently and you found yourself looking at two boys; one fuming and avoiding your eyes, the other on the floor, staring up at you. His leg looked wonky so you fought back a face of discomfort before going to his aid.

"You." You pointed at Bakugou then at the bed. "Sit." A grin spread on your face as you used his words, meanwhile you leaned down to help Midoriya Izuku.

His eyes were absolutely intimidating, as if the boy tried to search within your soul as you helped him up.

"My name is [L/N] [Y/N] and I'm going to heal you today." He returned your smile with ease and nodded, his fluffy green hair shaking through the action.

"I'm—"

"Midoriya Izuku, yes. You're pretty popular, you know?" His face went all red, taken back by the fact.

Curses could be heard behind both; your hand was supporting Midoriya's weight as he only hopped ahead with his good leg, leaded towards a bed. Shuffling sounded too, still accompanied with another round of indistinguishable curses and grunts.

When the green-haired boy was securely placed, you turned towards the other, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed furthest away from Midoriya, pouting adorably.

"So you've got a broken rib, right?"

"What's it to you?" It was his turn to be a petty little shit and copy your words, still not looking up. His leg was shaking and his posture looked uncomfortable so it was not the time to get into your usual bickering.

"Lay down." He tsk-ed sharply. "Please." You pleaded, pursing your lips at his childish attitude. He finally snapped his eyes on you, just slightly widened in what could be surprise but you couldn't tell. All that mattered was that he ended up doing what you said. Though with more huffing, as if it bothered him immensely.

"Ya happy now?" He snapped.

"Very! Now—" you're taken back yet again by the intensity of those green eyes that looked between you and Bakugou with interest. "I'm gonna have to give you an anesthesic and adjust your leg back in place before healing you—"

Like a working bee, you ran around the infirmary getting your syringe ready, a little bit too nervous as two pair of eyes burned into your back.

"Where do you know each other from, Kacchan?" Izuku asked. Even if his leg hurt like a bitch, he couldn't help but be curious about the person Kacchan has been having lunch with for the past weeks; but what type of response could you get from the one and only?

"Mind your own damned fucking business!"

You sighed, irritated but the nickname didn't fly above your head. In all means, he shouldn't be screaming. He had a broken rib and he was screeching like an idiot. Didn't it hurt to even breathe?!

"Bakugou, you need to lay low and shut up."

There wasn't any time to play around; Midoriya behaved exemplary, just barely wincing at the syringe probing his knee but did not complain at all. The polar opposite of the blond beds away.

After letting the anesthetic to take effect, you moved towards the guy that's been living rent free in your head. He looked beaten up, had a bloody nose, open-wounded knuckles and shaky hands.

"Okay, I need you to relax." You whispered, trying to lift his tank-top but he stopped your wrist.

"The fuck yOu doing?!" his voice cracked momentarily while hyperventilating.

"Dude, take slow, steady breaths. In order to heal you I need to touch the skin closer to the wound." It wasn't entirely true but not exactly a lie either. After a pause for consideration he nodded but his eyes remained wary. "You've seen me do it before! Now show me where it hurts."

You needed concentration, focus, steady hands, rock-hard abs and tanned skin— Nooooo, [Y/N]!

All your might; all of it to act nonchalant and professional, to not fucking stare like a degenerate because he was absolutely built. But you couldn't help it. You couldn't help placing your palm on his ribs gently, instead of just the tip of your fingers as you normally would've needed. His sigh of relief made you incredibly giddy, feeling accomplished and fulfilled knowing you've done a great job for him. You also couldn't help healing his most visible wounds one by one instead of doing it all together in one single touch.

Were you flustered? Definitely and his attention only made it worse. You picked one of his hands and he spasmed away but ultimately gave in with a choked grunt; then grabbed the other and channeled your energy into his body.

Your heads were tilted downwards, both staring at how his knuckles healed slowly. What neither him or you noticed was how all his scratches and bruises all over him healed too, or the prying eyes of a third wheel that was already taking notes of your quirk.

"Okay." You whispered, not really wanting to let go. Your brain screamed Dishonor! but your heart skipped a beat, then another, then exploded when you lifted your gaze.

Crimson eyes looked at you in awe, wide and never this clear. They were shining too and you couldn't help but give his strong hands a squeeze, feeling in the calloused skin of his palm and wondered which one of you was shaking... He blushed then and opened his mouth, yet his brows furrowed as his focus shifted behind you.

"THE FUCK YOU STARING AT, PUNK?!"

Oh, yeah. Your other patient.

In a heartbeat you were by Midoriya's side and got to work, chest heavy and no words coming out of you. No snappy or cheeky retorts either, just trembling hands and warm cheeks. Only with murmurs you guided him through the procedure before healing him completely.

Dizziness overtook you; the downside of your quirk and something you've been training with Recovery Girl for the whole semester.

"That was amazing, [L/N]-san! Thank you!" The boy cheered, staring down at his leg in utter disbelief. His compliment made you grin, full and proud.

"Of course it was!" Your normal self surfaced.

"Fucking woo-hoo." Nevermind. Mood dropped and your face did too.

"Well, since you've been a good patient—" you start and ruffle through your bag "You get a lollipop!" Said candy was thrown in Midoriya's lap and he stared at it baffled. Meanwhile you turned towards the bane of your existence and raised a brow, shaking another lollipop in your hand. "You don't. This one is mine because I deserve it."

His angry, stupid and scandalized expression was everything you were looking for. Did you get out of your way to buy lollipops knowing Bakugou would end up in the infirmary sooner or later? Maybe. Was it worth it?

"What the fuck does that mean, dammit— I—" words caught in his throat as he choked with air, looking at the candy in your fingers with murderous intentions. Definitely worth it.

"Thank you?" Broccoli Boy asked but started unwrapping it, probably not to insult your kindness, and the whole interaction fueled Bakugou's anger. He snapped out of the bed and so did Midoriya, but one was marching towards you while the other just wanted to run away in fear, direction Exit.

"Gimme that shit!" He tried to grab it out of your grasp, but you moved away, laughing at his face.

"Midoriya has been nice and thanked me for the healing—" at this point he was boiling. "Say Thank you, [Y/N], you're amazing and awesome and—"

"LIKE FUCKING HELL IMMA SAY THAT, DUMBASS!" he was so sweet, the guy you liked; yeah, your sudden realization hit as he looked like a tomato ready to bite your head off and the only thing you could think was how adorable and sweet he was. All gurgling in rage, spitting cussed words left and right; dreamy, he was dreamy. He caught the lollipop from your hands, his scowl turning into a full blown victorious grin. So shiny... so bright... God, he was so handsome...

You're suddently falling in his arms in slow-motion, the world around you twisting and turning with him in the center of it all. Warmth engulfed your frame as you hit the most comfortable pillow of your life. His chest.

"Oi, [Y/—" he cursed, taking no time to place you on the bed with ease. "You okay?"

"W-What happened? Is she okay?" It seemed the famous Deku decided to remain for the spectacle.

"Get lost!"

Even if you wanted to pass out, his snaps wouldn't let you and with that thought you chuckled breathlessly. "I'm fine, I just need a nap after healing this much..." you assured into the air.

"Will you be okay, [Y/N]-san?" You turned your head until you spotted him and nodded through a smile but someone else answered for you.

"I see you took matters in your own hands." The sweet, gentle voice of your mentor put you to ease but scared poor Midoriya to the core as she appeared behind him at the door. Bakugou was still hovering over you in bed, not really knowing what to do. "You should leave [L/N] rest, boys." With tiny steps she walked around, not really paying any more attention to the scene.

The blond gave you a glance and pursed his lip, analyzing the candy in his hand. Through half-lidded eyes you saw him secure it in his fist and give you a nod. At this point everything was blurry.

"Thanks... or whatever." He didn't waste any time to bolt towards the door, his broad uncovered shoulders were the last thing you saw before closing your eyes in contempt.

"Kacchan, is [Y/N]-san your—?"

"MIND YOUR GODDAM—" the door shut close, making the room tremble and you giggled like a drunk fool.

—

Bakugou walked with his hands in his pockets, looking around with little interest as Dunce Face and Racoon Eyes blabbered without pause to breathe. Fuck, he was exhausted and the concept of shoving food down his throat sounded fucking fantastic. His insides turned and twisted knowing you'd be meeting them soon.

"Yo, isn't that [Y/N]?" Like a flash, his head bolted in the direction Denki pointed at and before he spotted you, the blond already wanted to punch himself in the jaw. Why the fuck is he acting like that? The answer faded in his mind as the scene unfolded in front of him.

—

"You're such a fucking bitch, you know that, [Y/N]?" Arms crossed, you placated the poor first year that was whispering behind you.

"Wow, Midori, so original." With a dead tone and rolling eyes from you, the white haired demon only twisted her face in disgust. "My feelings are hurt."

"Who do you think you are? You're a fucking nobody, [Y/N]! You think you're doing any good here? Go kill yourself!"

"And give you the satisfaction? No, not happening, you fork-tongued lizard." Your nails looked interesting.

Her pale purple eyes got ignited and her diminute frame puffed, like a rabid little mole-rat ready to bite someone. And just like that, she took a deep breath and started yapping and barking. "YOU'RE BETTER DEAD ANYWAY, YOU WHORE! YOU RUIN EVERYTHING! NOW EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ME! ABOUT HOW YOU STOLE HIM FROM ME! DIE ALREADY!"

Sadly you didn't have any cookies on since you definitely felt like shoving one in her fanged, venomous mouth and patting her head for the effort. Your lips turned oh, so slowly into a grin, enjoying her reaction way too much.

"That's nice. Now can you like, I don't know, go back to making potions with your coven or some crap? Leave the kid alone—"

"This pathetic little shit was talking about me! ME!" her screech hurt your ears so you covered them before you turned to the kid to just see him standing there, petrified.

"Did you try to summon Satan and she appeared instea—?"

"I'M SO FUCKING DONE WITH YOUR CRAP, YOU—" she pushed you but grasped your uniform, a ripping sound following. "UGLY—" nothing prepared you to get attacked by her. "FAT—" she raised her palm. "WHORE!"

No way in hell you were going to back down, instead you clenched your jaw and got ready to block it and finish the fight. She never remotely attended to hit you in a somewhat public place as she was a careful witch, always brewing something in that rotten brain of hers and making sure to keep her sweet appearance on point for the public.

You blinked.

"That was insane!"

The scenery in front of you suddently changed with that one single blink and a tall blond mass of muscle just popped out of nowhere. It knocked the air out of your lungs for a moment and seeing him staring down at her with such hatred, holding her wrist high in the air made you feel immense relief, much to your own surprise.

Were you that tense before?

"Midori-chan, I didn't know you were this rotten." Kaminari appeared in your field of vision too but got ignored by the girl. Her only goal was to free herself from Bakugou's grip but he wouldn't bulge.

"Y-You got it all wrong, Bakugou-s-san!"

Everyone stood there silent, utterly disgusted with her attempt to even try to twist reality.

"Don't even fucking think about it." He warned and those words rumbled deep, threat held within.

"We heard it all, Midori." You shook in place, twisting to see Mina by the kid's side, patting his back. After being used to seeing her easy-going attitude it was only natural to be amazed by her somber tone and serious manner.

Why were you so relieved? kept creeping in your mind. Why?

He then threw her wrist out of his grasp and bared his teeth in her direction, globes so bloodshot scrutinizing her. He oozed rage and fury and was combusting in place. But he did not scream. Bakugou Katsuki did not scream for once when he started talking, instead he growled his words, each with care and clarity.

"If i ever fucking hear you talking like that to anyone ever again I will— fucking— break you." you could hear his teeth grit, the sound making you shiver both in terror and excitement. "NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE! I BETTER NOT FUCKING SEE YOU OR HEAR ABOUT YOU EVER AGAIN!" she yelped, fluttering her tears away and scurrying so fast it could've been comical.

Bakugou then spun to study you, chest raising and falling heavily. You couldn't descypher his appearance at the moment; there was the aggravation, the outrage, the burning flame in his orbs but also... Uncertainty? Guilt? Shame? It wiped off his face before you could figure it out.

"We're taking him to talk to a professor about what happened." Mina's voice faded in the distance. He nodded at Kaminari, who was behind you, and got a nod in response plus a pair of thumbs up, and with that they were gone.

He still tried to control himself, but as soon as you parted your lips to say anything at this point, he snarled into the nothingness. "THAT FUCKING BITCH—"

"Bakugou..."

"FOR HOW LONG?" he then screamed at you, malice gone but tone just as rough and loud.

"For how long what?" You said calmly while also noticing and adjusting the ripped sleeve of your uniform. He ran his palm over his face, eyeing it too.

"For how fucking long has this been going?"

"Oh, her—" there was this pressure to say it out loud, to confirm what it really was, like saying it out loud would give it weight, importance...

"Her bullshit, yeah." he didn't force it either, thankfully.

"Since we were in middle-school." you shrugged, chest and neck aching without an apparent reason. You cleared your throat.

"Stop that— Stop that fucking shit. Don't do that." He got close to you in a single step and you had to look up at him, feeling so small out of a sudden by his side. You smiled, as you taught yourself to do whenever things got tough.

"Do what?" It came out shaky, too shaky for your own taste but he was so close.

"Act like it doesn't fucking matter! Like it's no big fucking deal!" His breath fanned your face.

"I mean..." you started shrugging again but he stopped the action, palms holding your shoulders in place as he gave you a pissed off look. "It doesn't really matt—"

"YES, IT FUCKING DOES!"

His fingers held you in the spot as he inspected your features with a clenched jaw and classic furrowed brow. Flames erupted in your ribcage at his words and you couldn't even breathe anymore.

You licked your lips, not sure if you could say the next words but the fact that he focused on the action too attentively gave you the push needed. "What's it to you?"

His breath hitched, fanning over your face as he stiffened. Deep crimson waved between your own orbs and your lips—

Those flames? The flames that burned your inside? They were spreading throughout your body rapidly, the epicenter at the spot where his thumb caressed your skin at the edge of your shoulder, just touching the start of your collarbone. Even through the layer of fabric you felt it, as tiny as it was, but he did not do anything, just stood there with red tinted cheeks in daze. Much like you were.

"Thank you for saving me today, Bakugou." You whispered and he just nodded, still enthralled with your lips. At least you knew he was somewhat still there with you. Involuntarily, you bit your lower lip, just a little, smiling softly, taking the smallest step towards him; the corner of his lip turned up slightly—

"[Y/N]! Director Nezu wants to talk to you too!"

The spell was broken; you yelped into him, grabbing his shirt for support and checked your surroundings. A waving hand caught your attention; Kaminari was signaling you to go to him then froze and started running away; little did you know someone was sending him a death glare.

You cleared your throat, still warm and fuzzy from head to toe and separared from the blond that caught you in his arms. Bakugou seemed to have noticed the position too because he jerked away a step back and looked completely out of place.

Ridiculous. And hilarious, looking anywhere but you and still made no attempt to move. Neither did you, instead opting to hide a giggle.

Because you felt warm, tingly, all while he was a complete gremlin, sweet in his own personalized way, in which he cared for you, he defended you.

And you're in disbelief because how come this guy, this adorable, blushing porcupine with anger issues made you feel so soft and fragile? How did you end up in this situation and how can you stay in it forever?

"What's so fucking funny, hah?" There wasn't any bite to what could've been an aggressive wording, just hidden tenderness. He fought a smile too and had the audacity to try to act annoyed. Sadly, you had to go, so you shook your head and took a step back.

Bakugou understood, so he nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'll see how later, ok?" You promised and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Now you had his ear in full view for you to see the tips reddened too. You want to melt, even coo at the sight, but you really did have to go. However, you couldn't leave without sending him a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, whatever." His jaw sinked a little in the collar of his shirt as he stomped away too.

—

The whole afternoon was spent talking to a counselor and to the principal himself about a problematic individual. The first year student was encouraged by your new friends to report it as they escorted him to safety and soon an internal investigation started; maybe, possibly because of you.

Why were you so relieved?

Because they listened to you. Because they believed you. Because you didn't have to prepare yourself every single morning to take verbal hits from all directions. Because you've been given a voice, unlike your old school where everything was brushed off; "It's your word against hers" and much more bullshit. No, this time was real and they proved it by listening to every single word you said.

You were dropped at your dorms just before 9 P.M. and it was too late to meet anyone at the point. But it wasn't important; the moment you landed on your bed a smile broke on your face, a few tears fell and you had the best sleep in forever.

—

The air changed. The aura around your class switched. Midori was clearly missing, which instantly turns a bad day into a fantastic one, but it wasn't only that. Students were called, one by one, again and again interrupting class and took hours to come back. Meanwhile the Divas in particular looked concerned, another great view to enjoy now and until the rest of time.

It was obvious why this was happening and you never felt this much peace and satisfaction. Even so, you started to feel overwhelmed because people suddently started greeting you. The people that weren't in Midori's toxic and constricted entourage.

They said your name! Without hatred! The school's goldenboy's name, Kaminari Denki, was dropped again and again too. It seems he just casually started mentioning what he witnessed the day before and you suddently felt the need to hug him tight. Gossip spread like wild fire thanks to him, after all.

Maybe you fell into a parallel universe but you couldn't bring yourself to care, you just waltzed on the hallways after the bell rang, wanting to go get some food, then hide at Mei's workshop for some recharging. Another part of you wanted to meet the explosive boy too, though.

In all honesty, it didn't matter where you ended. You were in an incredible mood.They talked to you and it was exhausting but nice!

Was this what it felt in horror movies when the demon-child with rotating head and projectile vomit was finally exorcized? Was the curse really released for good?

As you floated in the skies, high on life and what-not, you turned the corner just to run nose straight into a wall. Your brain decided to take a break for the day, it seems, and you genuinely hoped nobody saw you march head first into— It wasn't a wall, but a boy that gave you a raised brow and narrowed eyes.

"Watch where the fuck you're going, dumbass."

"Great to see you too!" you chippered, walking around him, knowing for a fact his attitude wouldn't be able to piss you off—

"What's with the idiotic expression?" Nevermind, he can go fuck himself. Yet you smiled because you're a Godsend angel and that's what winged saints do.

"Just really happy." You shrugged, walking away with ease and tried to bite a bigger smile off your face when you noticed him turning to walk with you. "What are you doing on this side of the campus?" You inquired.

"Came to walk you to lunch or whatever." Well, damn, that made you halt in surprise. He's behind you, staring out the window with disinterest but froze when he saw your dumbfounded face. "WHAT? IT WAS IN MY WAY, OK? Want me to leave? I can leave! You can fuck off—" You placated your hands and started laughing.

"No, no—" Your eyes glint. "It's really sweet of you." You said, awaiting his reaction with mischief.

He first choked on air, like one normally does, and then showed the worst allergic reaction to mere words. "SW—! THAT'S NOT— I'M NOT— YOU— I— NO—" in no time you're crackling like a deranged witch, adoring every single second of the show he was pulling. He was basically howling and your laughter actually infuriated him more.

"FUCK OFF!" Your amusement calmed down as you studied him, his puffed cheeks, red eyes avoiding you; with a few stomped steps he placed himself ahead of you but made no attempt to stand you up and go be a hermit somewhere else.

Bakugou Katsuki. Ash blond hair, broad back, pink ears... Swears like a sailor, is all bark and and all bite, except with his friends. Has a big heart...

"Something strange is happening." You find yourself saying.

"Hah?" He glances back.

"People have been acting weird." That stops him.

"They better not be fucking messin' with you—"

"No, on the contrary, they're nice to me..." you assured, voice faint as his comment repeated in your mind and your chest warmed up once again because of him.

They better not be fucking messin' with you.

"Good." He says and you can't bite your tongue.

"You're a good guy, Bakugou."

He gives you a face. "Hah? Now you fucking notice?!" But he's grinning at the end of the sentence, cocky and so full of himself and you'd lie if you said you didn't consider him incredibly handsome. Although it seems he did not get the message.

"No. I mean it for real. You really are a good guy." He grunts like he hurt himself in his own confusion, staring stupidly at you, slightly blushing. "You're gonna be such a great hero too." Mouth agape to try to answer, he just gives you plate eyes and nothing else. On the other hand you genuinely expected more explosive reactions but this seemed to have broken him for some good seconds. He stared and watched and stood there like an idiot in front of you, making you want to both bury yourself in your own embarrassment and laugh at him.

You opted to look up at the ceiling, flustered and amused, yesterday's events suddently washing over you; they never really left your thoughts but now all the feelings decided to come visit once again.

"Oi—" he better not ruin it. "Wh— The fuck you kissing my ass for?!" You breathe out, long and loud for him to understand how stupid he sounded and stalked ahead; only food could save the day he's been actively ruining and that's what you were gonna get. He followed your rushed steps with cusses and questions until he grabbed your wrist to slow your pace. "Slow down, dumbass!"

The issue was that his obnoxiously loud voice caught then attention of some students that were just minding their own business.

"Is that Bakugou Katsuki?" Earning a groan from him as if it wasn't his fault!

"—with [L/N] [Y/N]?"

"Are they holding hands?!"

"So they're really together?" You cringe in embarrassment.

"Is that a confession?!" No, no, absolutely not happening. You rush out of the scene, gut burning, the boy on your toes cursing and mumbling whatevers but you didn't reach far until he talks. At least he had the decency of stopping you at an empty spot before giving you a heart attack.

"This is when you confess— or some fucking— dumb shit like that." Even without seeing him, back turned and absolutely petrified, you heard the cocky vibration in his tone that was sprinkled with some light stuttering.

Son of a bitch. That prinkly ass cocky fuck. That absolutely handful of a sea urchin—

You checked the closest stairway, your nearest exit and pathway to your salvation but something in that attitude of his just made you shake as you covered your face and laugh.

"You're... You're the worst." You mumble in disbelief but the grin that almost broke your face got even bigger as he choked and inhaled sharply.

"Hah?! Wasn't I the fucking best a minute ago?!"

"I did not say tha—"

"Same shit!" He bites when you glanced on him through your fingers. Your skin was burning so hot it would've been mortifying if he didn't look just as rattled. The view managed to calm your nerves and spike them at the same time.

"You're the worst..." Finally uncovering your face, he takes in your grin and visibly calms his fuming yet remains just as discomposed. "—and I like you."

Still, you cover your mouth because the blond in front of you started combusting and it was glorious to watch. Hell, you felt like grabbing a snack and watching him go through all those feelings that slapped his face on repeat. First his eyes widened, the teasing from before forgotten, then his skin, already splashed with red transformed completely into the same color, so deep it in resemblance with his eyes, eyes that were reading into you intensely. He went rigid too and as time passed and passed and he did not move, the only thing left was to break him out of his misery. Yes, break him.

"This is when you say it back."

He snapped. "I— DON'T FUCKING— DON'T FUCKING MAKE ME SAY EMBARRASSING SHIT LIKE THAT!" Birds flew away in one mile radius, windows trembled, your eardrums cried for mercy and you hid your smile because even through deafening volume, Bakugou Katsuki did not deny it. A zoo totally high on crystal meth started a revolution in your insides and the feeling threatened to burst out at any moment.

This is it. This ball of emotional constipation was taking your breath away while cussing you after you confessed and all you wanted to do was to squeal... What have you become?

But you said nothing, just stared with your hand covering your mouth, taking in the boy that looked like he wanted to throw fists with you, bared teeth and all, and also simultaneously die of a stroke.

"I—" he tried, you had to give him credit because he really did try. Like a challenge, like he wasn't going to back down, he gave his best and not without looking like it killed him inside. "F—" cuss word got stuck in his throat when you couldn't help a scoff. Suddently the show comes to an end when he halts, gives you a glare and takes a deep breath. For a moment you feared he'd walk away. Oh, how wrong you were because deep down you had to know he did not back down easily.

"I like— you, too." Beautiful words came out of his mouth, looking like it physically pained him to say them. "THERE, I SAID IT! YOU FUCKING HAPPY NOW?!" He howls indignantly, crossing his arms, trying to hide his clear flustered self yet it takes him one glance at you to return to his self induced stroke. "Don't fucking make that dumb fucking face—" he struggled to exist. "Don't look at me like that, dammit!"

You giggle, relieved and happy and in all honesty about to cry a tiny bit. You couldn't help it, enamored with how blissful this moment was. Bakugou stops his grunts and watches you in awe, small, minuscule grin taking over his face and he clicks his tongue, trying to fight it.

And deflects, as always.

"C'mon. Have to walk you there before you get lost or some shit like that." You breathe in and nod, even thought you were perfectly capable of walking to the cafeteria as you've done it for a year and some now.

"Okay."

"You'd be starving if it weren't for me." You snort and roll your eyes, but beam like a lovestruck idiot.

"Sure thing, dude." It instantly earns a grunt, then a pout, followed by grumbles and heavy feet by your side. You check on him, noticing his shrugged shoulders and tinted nose and you almost trip with your own legs because of it. He doesn't say anything for the longest time, which you didn't mind as you yourself needed some time to shoo away the butterflies and rainbows that floated all around in your very empty head. It wasn't until you almost reached the cafeteria that he stops you by the arm and looks away.

"You— You shouldn't call your boyfriend dude, dumbass."

Remember the butterflies? Now they're radioactive and fluttering around, crazed and disoriented.

"Says the one that calls me a dumbass, Bakugou." You relent, thankful he took the initiative to answer the question that lingered in the air throughout all the walk.

A wild flush takes over him and he refuses to turn toward you, just observing from the corner of his eyes.

"It's— It's Katsuki to you, dumbass." And he drags you inside without giving you a chance to process it. But when you do, you grin like mad and whisper just as you were manhandled through the door, preparing yourself for his explosive gargling and screaming and silently apologizing to everyone in your general proximity.

"Okay, Kacchan~"

Note: Thank you for reading and for any sweet mesages! I read each and every one of them and they make me so incredibly happy!! I would like to point out that the phone editor switches around paragraphs and it's very confusing. I edited some mistakes and for now it's good but I'm scared it wasn't fixed since I edited before too and I encounter the same problem again... If you find something off, could you please let me know? I want the reading to be enjoyable for everyone after all. Thank you again! 💕

#boku no hero academia #bnha #noire writes #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou

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deiliamedlini · 3 years

Text

Slipping on Ice

Summary: Link is forced to take his little sister Aryll ice skating at 7am, and they suddenly have to share the rink.

~Modern Zelink AU ~

Word count: 4644

Or read on Ao3!

“Link, you missed the turn!”

Aryll sat forward from the backseat and tried to point frantically at the road, only for the seatbelt to lock and send her backwards. There were several loud clicks, and she closed her eyes in defeat before Link could say a single smart word, because now she was stuck with the seatbelt completely trapping her.

“Can I fix my seatbelt?”

“No. We’re almost there. Suck it up.”

“You’re mean!” she groaned, leaning her head on the window.

Link glanced at her in the rearview mirror before making a U turn into the near-empty parking lot.

He leaned his head back against the hard headrest and closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t promised his mother that he’d do anything if she let him go to a party over the weekend. He was 18, he shouldn’t even need to ask permission anymore.

“Come on! Come on! Come on!!” Aryll chanted, shaking the driver’s seat with her little hands.

“One day, Aryll, you’ll actually want to sleep in, and then I’ll wake you up to drag you somewhere stupid.”

“Nowhere is stupid!” she countered, whipping her door open and leaning against the window to eerily peer at him.

Glancing at the clock, he rolled his eyes. It was 6:58am and here he was spending the first day of his week-long vacation taking Aryll ice-skating. He double checked his wallet to make sure the 30 rupees his mother had given him were still there and then reluctantly dragged himself from the car.

Aryll was bursting with excitement, bouncing up and down as her plush coat swished with every excited move she made. She pulled her gloves from her pocket—her favorites that had seagulls on them despite the cold—and fiddled to get her fingers in as she stared into the glass door, waiting for whoever to unlock the doors.

Link, on the other hand, was miserable. He was so tired. He wasn’t one of those people who could function with a coffee and just 4 hours of sleep, so he closed his eyes for the next two minutes while leaning against the metal handrail. It didn’t feel cold; everything was cold. Why Aryll wanted to go to an indoor ice rink was beyond him, but he didn’t really care whether it was indoor, outdoor, or on the moon: he didn’t want to go.

“Fix your hat, Link,” she said to him, tapping on her own. She made a twisting motion.

Feeling for the emblem of the Rito Fliers on his knit hat, he pulled it off and retied his sloppily thrown-in ponytail before returning the hat so that the emblem was back in the center.

Finally, the employee came up to the door and stared at Link with equally weary eyes. Link didn’t recognize him, but honestly, he could have been at the party too, given his age and his general disposition that seemed ready to just die a little bit.

He let out a heavy sigh and unlocked the door.

Aryll didn’t even give him enough time to get out of the way before she’d accosted him.

“Hi! One adult and one child please! And we’ll need to rent skates!”

“I’m not skating,” Link muttered, grabbing the rupees. If he could avoid the skate rental and the admission fee, he could pocket the rest of the rupees.

Aryll glared at him as though he’d just told her that he’d killed her best friend. “You’re skating with me, or I’ll tell mom and dad that you didn’t. I’ll call them right now!”

Grimacing, Link handed over the rest of the rupees and told the man their sizes before turning toward Aryll’s smug expression. “No one wants to be friends with a dirty rat, you know.”

“I’m not dirty. And I haven’t told anyone yet, so I’m not technically a rat either.”

“No one wants to be friends with a smart mouth.”

“At least I’m smart.”

He made a face and leaned heavily against the counter until the guy returned with their skates. Link took them while Aryll bolted through the doors and into the rink.

It was freezing.

The chill hadn’t been enough to wake him up, but it was enough to make him a bit more alert. He looked around the deserted room, his footsteps echoing in the silence and making him more self-conscious than he already was about being here. What if Mipha saw him here? Would she laugh at him for his inability to skate? Would she make fun of him for spending the first day of his vacation with his little sister? Would she even notice he was there?

Not that any of that mattered. Mipha was dating Revali.

It was just a crush. On the most popular girl in school. Who was also gorgeous. But he’d never even said three words to her, so why would she care if he was here anyway?

“Hey! Link! Come on! Give me my skates!”

Shaking his head to snap himself out of it, he descended the stairs and tossed Aryll’s skates in front of her.

“Rude.”

“That’s for making me actually skate and blackmailing me.”

“I’ve seen you skate, Link. If you can even call it skating. It’s more like shuffling.”

“Shut up.”

Aryll grinned while she slid into her skates, testing them out before heading to the door onto the ice.

“Hey, wait!” Link called, gesturing to the spot in front of him.

“What?”

Link set his shoes down and knelt on the ground. “Put your foot up. It’s like mom never taught you to tie shoes.”

Groaning, Aryll threw her head back and set her skate against Link’s leg so he could retie it. The force that he pulled at the strings had her jerking back in surprise, and nearly toppling over, but she kept her balance and watched Link as he knotted the laces a few times. Admittedly, it did feel like a better fit when he was done.

“Other one.”

He shook his head as he pulled the loose strings. “Honestly, I thought you knew what you were doing.” He pulled the laces and Aryll swayed again.

“I do! I’m just… not the best shoe-tier.”

Satisfied, he patted the side of her foot. “Okay; go ahead. I’ll be out in a minute. But you know you’re kind of on your own, right?”

“Oh, I know!” she laughed, finally gliding onto the ice with an ease that Link was reluctant to admit he envied.

He put his own skates on slowly, glancing up every now and then to make sure Aryll hadn’t cracked her head open or anything terrible like that. He’d have no idea how to get to her if something happened, but she had been adamant that her classes made her good enough to know how to fall and how to jump and how to glide.

No one else knew how to ice skate, so sending Link was as good as sending anyone else with her. Plus, despite their occasional snippiness, Link would protect Aryll with his life, and their parents knew that enough to trust him alone with her at an ice rink. He’d find a way onto that ice faster than someone could call an ambulance.

Link let out a deep breath again and set his phone inside his shoe before standing up. It wasn’t as bad as he remembered. He could do this, for sure.

That attitude went out the window the second his first skate hit the ice.

“Oh, shit,” he hissed, already unsteady with one foot still on land. Land? Is that what it was called now?

“Sound carries in here!” Aryll chided, swishing by him tauntingly.

He waited until she was on the opposite side of the rink before clutching the boards for dear life, throwing his other foot over and slipping like was… on ice, he supposed. His feet couldn’t stabilize, and it was all up to his arms to hold him up until he managed to regain his balance.

Sliding his hand along the boards, he pulled himself as far as he could until the plexiglass took over, and he was forced to slide his fingers into the narrow gap for any grip.

He hadn’t lifted his legs yet, but he was where the net would be in hockey, so he let go for a second and glanced back at Aryll. “Better than you thought I could do, huh?”

She skated up to him and then turned herself backwards, judging him with her arms across her chest as she disappeared.

“Critic,” he muttered, trying to lift his foot. He could only manage to get his right off the ground, and he kept trying to dig the front of his skate into the ice to push himself forward, because that’s what everyone in those videos Aryll made him watch with her last night did. He managed a shuffle, and every time he felt himself going, he grabbed for that little spot under the glass to steady himself, and then dragged himself along.

“You really suck,” Aryll said on her next pass.

“Hey! Language! You’re like, five!”

“I’m not five!” she called back. It was a running joke between them because Link needed to do math to figure out Aryll’s age. He always had to subtract six years from his own age to figure hers out, but she still seemed younger to him. Maybe she’d always be that way just because he was the oldest. Maybe, she’d be in her thirties one day and Link would still think she was a teenager.

It took a long time and several taunts from Aryll, but Link made it around the whole rink once, while Aryll had probably circled it nearly two hundred times. He’d gone around again, but he was stopped, watching Aryll practice her jumps when he heard the echo of footsteps entering the rink.

It was a public place, he knew, but they’d gone early to avoid people, not to share.

But wow, any semblance of annoyance he had disappeared when he saw the girl hurrying down the steps with a gym bag slung over her shoulder.

She had long blonde hair that fell over her shoulders, and really that was all Link could see from that distance, but he did have a thing for blondes, and that was all he needed to feel an instant infatuation. But of course, his nerves shot up tenfold because now there was a hot blonde who’d watch him not know how to skate and probably fall on his ass.

He dragged himself around a bit more, trying to just keep his eyes on his feet instead of on her, but he was a sucker and glanced up.

She was watching Aryll with a fond smile on her face before she stood up and moved onto the ice.

Link shivered while he looked her over. She had a loose short-sleeved shirt on, her sports bra straps showing on her shoulders, and she was in a pair of leggings that hugged her a little too perfectly. He groaned to himself. She had to be hot. Physically, not temperature wise because honestly, she looked like she might be pretty cold.

After pulling himself along a little more—and then trying to shuffle his feet rather than drag himself like he was trying to lead a stubborn horse—he needed to pause to rest. So, he watched Aryll and the girl skate around the rink.

The girl neared him as she was making a turn around the rink, like a warmup, and smiled shyly at him when she noticed his gaze on her.

Shit. She probably didn’t want to be watched just as much as he didn’t. And Goddess, her eyes had been so green they’d nearly made him do a double take. But no! No double takes! She didn’t want to be watched!

It wasn’t until he heard Aryll’s loud “Whoa!” that he looked back out, clutching the boards again as he whipped his head and lost his balance. He expected to see Aryll on the ground, but she was just watching the other girl in awe. And honestly, so was Link.

She was spinning, but not like a normal person. Her arms were tucked against her chest and she spun like those people on the television who competed for medals and awards.

Her arms went out gracefully as she ended it like it was no big deal. Like she didn’t look like someone had just perfectly spun a coin.

She smiled at Aryll, and Goddess above, her smile was gorgeous and inviting and why did she have to be here?

The girl then leaped, some sort of near perfect split in the air before landing and sending Aryll another grin.

“How do you do that?” Aryll asked.

“Aryll!” Link called, chastising her. “Let the lady practice in peace.”

“No, it’s okay with me if it’s okay with you,” she said, stopping just in front of him.

Oh, she was so much prettier up close: freckles that scattered along her face, her long hair tied back into a much better ponytail than his own, glowing skin, impressive muscles. And she wasn’t too bad in the… no, he had to keep his eyes up! Only to be captured in her green ones. Expectant.

“What?” he asked, realizing that she was waiting for an answer from him, but entirely forgetting the question.

“I don’t want to talk to her or help her out if you’re not okay with it. That’s all. You are with her, right?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, looking at Aryll’s clear eavesdropping expression as she pretended to be distracted, though her eager face gave her away. “Yeah, go ahead. She likes all that… spinning stuff.”

The girl bit her lip to stop herself from giggling at ‘spinning stuff.’ Goddess, he was stupid. What a stupid thing to say to someone who clearly knows what they’re doing.

He kept shuffling, trying in earnest now to block out their conversation so he could focus on the simple task of going forward.

His attention was torn between making sure Aryll wasn’t being kidnapped and wondering how he’d ever cross the rink to save her if she was. But all he saw was the girl demonstrating something before Aryll tried it, and the girl’s face lit up as she clapped in encouragement.

The entrance of the rink was back in his sight, so he was less concerned about watching Aryll and more focused on his feet.

Which is why he didn’t see the girl until she was right in front of him.

“You should move away from the boards and look up rather than at your feet. It’ll help.”

Even her voice was gorgeous. Goddess above…

“I’ll fall,” he said simply, his hand still on the board.

“Yeah. You have to fall.”

“You haven’t fallen and you’re doing all those… spins. So I don’t think that logic works.”

The girl skated backwards in front of him. “Do you really think I haven’t fallen?”

“No, of course not,” he muttered. Someone who was that good had to have learned through a few spills over the years.

“Then trust me. Look up and get away from the boards. Stop worrying about falling.”

She skated back over to Aryll, demonstrating something else for his sister to try.

With their attention diverted, he pushed away from the boards and kept his eyes on the wall straight ahead.

And promptly felt his skates slide away from him, wide and uneven, throwing him entirely off balance until he hit the ice with a hard thud.

Knowing that both their eyes were on him now, he tried to get to his feet quickly, but that only ended with him slipping and hitting his chin on the ground. So, face burning with utter embarrassment, he rested his forehead against his arm so he could scream internally for a hot second before trying again.

When he looked up, the girl was crouched down in front of him. “Do you need help?”

He could either: stay on the ice like a flattened pancake, or let the hot girl realize that he really is an embarrassment for being unable to get to his own feet.

Looking back at her, he was struck by how she didn’t smile. She wasn’t laughing at him, or enjoying his pain. She wasn’t pitying him either. She just looked… like this was normal.

“Y-yeah,” he found himself saying, taking her outstretched hand.

He shuddered at the contact of her skin on his. She helped him flip onto his stomach and then to his knees before she pulled him up. “Is this your first time skating?”

Lie, or tell the truth?

Something about her wide, earnest green eyes had him sucking up his pride. “No, I just suck.”

“Everyone sucks at the beginning. Once you get it, you’ll be flying like the Rito,” she laughed, tapping the emblem on his hat. Then she blushed furiously, her whole face turning a shade of pink as she let go of his hand and moved backwards. “Sorry. Personal space issues sometimes when I’m on the rink.”

“No, it’s okay,” he muttered, unable to get his voice any louder. His hands were out to steady himself, but he slipped again, landing on his knee.

This time, she did smile, but it was soft and she held her hand out again.

“Your sister could teach you. She said she’s been taking skating lessons for a while.”

Scoffing harshly, Link shook his head and glanced at Aryll, who was blissfully making loops around the rink, unconcerned with them. But he took her hand again.

This time, she didn’t let go. She shook it. “I’m Zelda.”

He glanced at their clasped hands and raised his eyebrows, shocked that she was even telling him her name. “Link.”

She gave him a tug before letting go of him, letting him coast in the momentum. “So, you… um… go to school around here?”

He looked back at his feet so they didn’t get away from him, but he heard Zelda tsk, so he looked back at her. “Yeah. I’m in my last year at Faron High.”

Her smile broadened. “I’m in my last year at Labrynna!”

Hot, kind, and his own age.

Link took her in, suddenly feeling guilty; as much as he wanted to fall again just so she’d offer her hand one more time, he didn’t know her. “I’m sorry for taking up your time. Thanks for helping.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, glancing at Aryll for a while. “I’m always here, so it’s nice to have a different morning. And I like meeting new people.”

And just like that, the guilt faded away from him. “Always here? You a professional skater?”

“Not professional,” she said, offering her hand again. “I’ve done competitions.”

This time, he didn’t know why she was offering, so he hesitated before getting sucked in by her genuine smile. She tugged him again and he started to glide with her again.

He chuckled and kept his eyes off his feet. “You good at it?” Zelda raised an eyebrow, so he quickly waved his hands. “I-I mean, you looked incredible, but anyone who can move forward deserves a medal in my eyes. So, my comparisons aren’t great.”

Zelda bit her lip and shrugged. “I’ve done well.”

That, Link knew, was code for ‘yes, I’m very good,’ but from someone far humbler than himself.

After checking on Aryll, Zelda nodded to herself as she looked over Link. “You’re doing better already.”

“I am?” he asked, glancing at his feet.

Which, of course, sent him lurching forward until he hit the ice.

Zelda giggled this time, covering her mouth to try to stifle it. “I’m sorry! I threw off your focus!”

Link groaned and made it halfway to his feet before taking her hand this time. Well, he was getting better at falling anyway.

She didn’t let go.

Instead, she held out her other hand. “I can help keep you balanced so you can try moving your feet.”

One more hit, and Link was sure he’d wake up from this dream. Because what was even happening right now?

Well, if this was a dream, might as well go for it. And if it wasn’t… what could he do that’s more embarrassing than he’d already done?

So, he took her hand.

She pulled him with her for a moment before gesturing to his feet. “You should try… you know… skating.”

“Right,” he said, admittedly holding her a little tighter as he tried to push off the ice but stumbled.

She steadied him, but before he knew it, she was clicking her tongue at him again. “Link, stop looking at your feet.”

The sound of his name on her lips had his head jerking up far faster than he meant to. He was like an eager puppy, and he knew it.

Once they’d gone around a little more, Zelda loosened her grip. “I’m going to let go. Keep going. You’re doing really good.”

He blew out some air as she released him, and his arms shot out to his sides to keep him steady. But he was doing it. He was going forward.

He couldn’t help the triumphant little laugh that escaped from his lips.

“So, you’re not hopeless after all!” Aryll said as she skated beside him. “It’s taken him forever to figure this out! I even tried to show him videos yesterday.”

Defensive, Link glared at Aryll. “I tried to do it their way. But I couldn’t figure out the toe thing.”

Zelda raised an eyebrow again. “Toe thing?”

“Yeah, they kept pushing off with their toe or something, but I can’t get it.”

Goddess, Zelda was perfect, because she lifted her foot up to show off her skate while still skimming backwards in front of him. “This thing?” she asked, pointing to a sharp barb looking thing in the front of the blade.

“Yeah, they pushed off with that, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it.”

Zelda laughed again as she set her foot down. “These are for figure skating. The ones you have on are for hockey. No toe pick. They’re different.”

“They are?” he asked, trying—and failing—to get a good look at his own skates. “I thought they were all the same.”

“They’re not,” she said, her cheeks pinching her eyes with her smile. “You know, you’ve been skating this whole time without falling.”

“It’s a miracle,” Aryll muttered.

Link turned to her with a glare. “You’d better watch it, because when I get really good, I’m going to pick you up and throw you across the ice, and you better know how to stick that landing or you’ll end up on your ass.”

“First off, language,” Aryll huffed. “Second off, that sounds fun, so go ahead.”

He scoffed and playfully pushed her, though it did little more than throw him off balance for a moment. And when he looked up, he could see that people were starting to come into the rink quickly.

Zelda sighed and watched them with a sad expression. “I know them. They always just completely take over the ice. It’s a pain.”

Link finally stopped moving when he saw who it was. Mipha, Revali, and their friends were laughing boisterously as they took their seats in the bleachers to get their skates on.

Zelda looked between them and Link. “Do you know them?”

“Kind of. They go to my school, but we don’t talk.”

Zelda stared at them, specifically at Mipha, before muttering to herself. “Wow. She’s really pretty. I’d kill to look like her.”

Looking Zelda over, Link was glad that Aryll had taken a turn around the rink without them. Because he didn’t think he’d have the courage to say anything if she’d been around as his audience.

“I know a stranger’s opinion isn’t worth anything but… personally, I prefer blondes.”

Whipping around, an incredulous look on her face, Zelda lost her balance and fell back onto the ice. She barely seemed like she noticed, pulling her legs up to her so she could stare open mouthed at Link until she regained her composure.

Her face was bright red, and she couldn’t quite meet Link’s eyes as she laughed to herself. But finally, she worked up to it and her gaze had him pinned.

“Yeah, I do too.”

Link nodded nervously before he started to chuckle and held his hand out to help her up.

She took it as a courtesy, but got up on her own so she didn’t pull him down when he’d spent so long getting his balance.

This time, when their hands lingered too long, the energy between them was palpable, and both of them were blushing.

Aryll skated up to them. “I’m hungry. Can we go to Windy’s?”

Link glanced apologetically at Zelda, and she followed them back to the gate, watching as they both pulled at the laces in much the same aggressively impatient manner. It had her grinning.

“You know,” she said when Link stood up. “I’m here at 7:30 whenever there isn’t school. I’ll be here tomorrow, if Aryll would like some more help.”

Her eyes were distinctively flirty, and Link was beyond glad that Aryll was still too young to recognize it, because she gasped in excitement. “Can we, Link?”

He didn’t look at Aryll, too entranced by Zelda’s blatant invitation. “We’ll ask mom, but if she says you can, I’ll bring you. If not… I might just come here alone.” His lips tipped up, and he prayed that the red in his cheeks and down his neck just looked like it was from the cold.

“No fair! But mom will say yes if you’re bringing me so she can go back to sleep!”

Link didn’t even realize how awake he’d become since Zelda came into the rink.

Zelda pushed a loose piece of hair behind her ears that had come free in her fall. “Okay then. I’ll see you both tomorrow. For lessons.”

Aryll beamed. “Maybe you can come for lunch with us tomorrow?”

Zelda bit her lip and looked over at Link, who was now staring at the floor so she couldn’t see his expression. But she thought he was cute when he was nervous. “Link? What do you think?”

Forced to look up at her, he knew she could see how eager he was to just straight out say yes. It was all over his face, and burning in his eyes. “If you’d like to,” he said carefully. “I have no objections.” He finished sliding his normal shoes back on before standing up.

“Okay. I look forward to it. I’ll see you tomorrow Aryll. Link.”

He stepped forward, a little too close to where she leaned on the board. “Zelda.”

Her mouth dropped into a smile as he used her name for the first time.

Link patted Aryll’s shoulder to lead her up the stairs before taking one more look behind him at Zelda.

They were halfway up the steps when Link pointed to Aryll. “Do not tell mom that there is a pretty girl involved.”

But Aryll smiled. “Your voice carries, Link.”

Spinning around on the stairs, he saw Zelda beaming as she giggled. But she—thankfully—pushed off the board and twirled once before skating away, her eyes on them until she no longer could see where they stood.

And when Link glanced at Mipha as they passed, and he felt that his infatuation with her had faded to near nothing from the time he’d gotten out of the car to the time he got into it once again. He knew he was doomed. because the only one on his mind now was Zelda.

He’d never been more excited to set an early alarm.

#legend of zelda #LoZ AU #modern au #ice skating #link #zelda #aryll #zelink #happy fic #for once!#was this inspire by my inability to ice skate? yes.#I'm sorry the title sucks but I could think of NOTHING #This is another 6am oneshot that I forgot to post the day I wrote it #oneshot #writing

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sunnysviolin · 3 years

Note

Sometimes, when sunny visits kels house for a sleepover, (or just anyones house except for basils) the host would always wake up to:

A missing sunny (who is most likely in some weird ass place like the roof)

A sunny that it staring at you from the foot of the bed or beside it

A sunny that stares from the doorway (he stares alot)

A sunny that is playing bo en my time at an unreasonable hour but at a reasonable volume (or vise versa)

Alright so a different nonnie also sent me “How many times do you think sunny scares people by staring at them from the foot of the bed / beside them when they wake up?” So I’m....combining these two XD Also if you guys like....resend things can you say they’re a resend LOL bc if I have another Cho double take situation I’m going to backflip into the sun. Also don’t resend more than twice (i’m gonna be putting that in my bio bc....yeah don’t do it makes me anxious D:)

Okay mini housekeeping thing aside! This got long it’s under a read more because it’s long, but it’s full of shenanigans, sleepovers, and our local fave cryptid Sunny

I’m going to focus this in on post-canon, because I think that Sunny’s ultimate cryptid energy flows forth in his teen years. Also I really want to include the hooligans in on this (I’m...love them)

So pre-canon Sunny and Mari’s house was the go to location for their group of six. They were almost always there, but there was some unspoken rules.

You called before you came over (Only Kel didn’t follow this rule, but he always knocked and waited patiently at the door) and you had to be invited to stay for dinner. If not you went home when Sunny’s mom called a fifteen minute warning before dinner. There was also no arguing within the house. If there was an issue that needed to be addressed, Mari and Sunny’s parents would immediately send everyone home.

Post-canon Mari is gone and the house has been sold. Hero and Kel’s house becomes the go to hang out house after that. Their house is nearly night and day to Mari and Sunny’s

Mari and Sunny’s house was always neat and tidy and very quiet. Their parents generally left the TV off and didn’t use the radio, so unless one of the two children were making noise, everything would be silent. Kel and Hero’s house is in constant motion and activity. Sally is usually either babbling or screaming, music is always playing on the radio, and their main form of communication is friendly yelling at one another. Kel and Hero’s house also has an open door policy- anyone can walk in at anytime and they all know where the spare keys are hidden.

Post-canon I see a quick friendship building between Aubrey’s gang and Basil Sunny and Kel. Hero enjoys them all, but it’s not really his scene now that he’s spent a year or so at college. He will get brought along for some adventures, and he’s always up for hanging around the house with them, but when it gets to be a bigger group he prefers to just let them have fun.

When it’s just his four kids, Hero is always a part of the group though.

OKAY ALL OF THAT BUILDUP ASIDE LETS GET TO THE ACTUAL POINT OF THIS ASK

So this is when school is in session and Hero is back at college. Kel tells Aubrey that Sunny is coming up for the long weekend, and they should all do a sleepover at his house like old times. She agrees and they arrange it with Basil. Kim overhears their plans and she has FOMO so she arranges herself to be there when they tell Basil

Normally Kel makes it a point to try and include Aubrey’s friends (who are slowly just becoming friends) but this time he just pretends she isn’t there and tells Basil to come right after school and they can drive together to get Sunny.

Kim weedles it out of Aubrey later that day when they’re alone in gym class. The reason that they didn’t immediately invite her and the others? Sunny is apparently weird at night

Kim fires back that Sunny is always a little weird, but Aubrey is being fully serious. Unfortunately all that does is make Kim more curious. She goes to find Kel afterward and half asks/half demands an invitation to the sleepover. Kel seems a little awkward about her involving herself, but he agrees that she and the others can join in if they like.

Aubrey and the others arrive

Kim soon finds out that Aubrey was 100% right. Sunny is...weird at night.

At around 10:00 pm, Sunny disappears. Basila nd Aubrey went into the kitchen to make popcorn, and Kel was busy fiddling with the TV to get the movie to start. When he turns back to the couch, he asks where Sunny is. They realize Sunny has vanished.

Aubrey and Basil come in with the bowls of snacks, and Kel asks them if they’ve seen Sunny. Basil says to check the roof.

The roof. The hooligans all laugh (Basil is a sweet kid when you get to know him, but his nerves make even his jokes strange) The other three don’t laugh. In fact Kel gets up and goes to the door.

The hooligans follow out bewildered, and Sunny is o n t h e r o o f. CASUALLY. JUST THERE PETTING AN ORANGE CAT WHO IS LOUNGING PURRING NEXT TO HIM. AND KEL AND AUBREY AND BASIL DONT REACT??? Kel just waves?? and Sunny waves back???

“We’re gonna watch Insidious now, I know you haven’t seen that one before. Wanna come in?” “Kay” “Do you want to bring your cat in with you? I’ll put Hector on his leash” “Yes please”

Then the three just walk back and tell the hooligans to follow them in. Sunny got himself up so Sunny can get himself down.

It’s only the beginning of the madness. Sunny walks in holding the still purring orange cat and settles himself down in his specific corner of the couch (They were prewarned not to sit in Sunny’s spot) Aubrey cuts Kim off before she can ask about the roof, and starts the movie. Kim looks over at the cat, and it locks eyes on her, hissing.

The movie begins and Sunny will randomly speak but only to say when a character is going to die/be scared. Right before it happens. Every single time. Didn’t Kel say before that he hadn’t seen this movie?? It doesn’t matter Sunny keeps going

A ghost. A ghost. Lost in an alternate dimension by shamanic journey. It’s bizarre. The cat continues to purr a rusty old engine noise in Sunny’s lap, periodically looking at one of the hooligans and hissing, choosing a different one every time. Who’s cat is that????

They finish the movie and start to play board games. They pick monopoly and decide to divvy up into teams. Kim immediately claims Aubrey, Vance decides to go with Kel and Kel grabs Mikhael to create a trio. Charlie and Sunny silently sit beside each other, and everyone assumes that makes them a team. Angel pulls Basil to his side and they’re prepped to play the game.

Kim likes to consider herself a pretty good monopoly player, and Aubrey is a whiz with money and numbers, so she assumes they have this in the bag.

She did not account for the Sunny factor.

Sunny stares her down through the entire time. Kim is sure he doesn’t blink. She forgets to bid on auctions for properties and gives him extra rent money. They go bankrupt first, and Sunny turns his eye onto Kel who just laughs and gives Sunny finger guns. Sunny finger guns back (his face still a blank slate) and proceeds to also take all of Kel’s money.

They go to bed shortly after, and Kim is relieved. Nothing also weird can happen. Now she just has to sleep.

She wakes up in the middle of the night and adjust her position, turning over to face the other side of teh room. Four shining eyes stare back at her, catching the dim light from the kitchen. Kim shakily grabs her phone and turns on the flashlight, whirling around to see Sunny staring at her, his orange cat on top of his head.

She wakes all the rest of them with her shriek of terror. The group of four quickly settle to sleep once more, even Sunny crashing down next to Aubrey and Basil. hissing cat caught firmly in his arms.

She and the other hooligans stay up for a bit, frantically whispering about the oddness of the situation. They resolve to leave early in the morning, and to distance themselves as much as they can from...whatever Sunny is. They’re certainly glad he doesn’t go to their school anymore.

The next morning, the group of four wake up before the hooligans and cook a big breakfast. They put the phone on speaker and chat with Hero as they do so, catching up on his latest college stories. Bo en is playing from the cd player in the corner of the kitchen, kept low so as not to wake the others.

The hooligans creep downstairs and peer inside. The scene is shockingly...normal.

Sunny is still carrying his cat, but now Kel is feeding it tiny bits of bacon and it is stretching out of Sunny’s arms to reach the next delicious morsel. He’s chatting with Hero over the phone, speaking in full long sentences which is a rarity for Sunny. He even laughs quietly at a joke Hero tells.

Kim tries to translate the horror she felt last night into this morning, but it’s not there. Sunny doesn’t seem like an eldritch horror during the day. Just another teenager happy to be with people he enjoys.

Hero hangs up shortly after, and the group of four settle back into a placid silence. Aubrey breaks it by turning to the others

“I know it was weird, but I’m glad that they came for last night.” the three boys agree, and Sunny leans against the counter near Aubrey so she can scratch one hand under his cat’s neck while still flipping pancakes. When he speaks, his voice is near silent, but they all hear it anyway.

“They’re nice. They didn’t treat me different.”

The hooligans share a look and simultaneously agree to stay for breakfast.

#omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #omori sunny #omori basil #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori hero #mentioned lol #omori kim #omori scooter gang #hooligans #omori hooligans #cryptid sunny

197 notes · View notes

vs-redemption · 3 years

Note

Hey! Can i request tamaki,mirio and nejire with a s/o who have a very powerfull quirk?

From Cindy: Thanks for requesting the big three! It was interesting trying to imagine them reacting to a powerful quirk. I had fun thinking of the quirks though. I hope this is what you were looking for anon!

Mirio

Mirio had no idea just how powerful your quirk was until he’d already been dating you for a few months.

You were a support course student at a college outside of Japan, and you had met Mirio when he’d come to your school to do a study abroad program after graduating from UA High School.

You both shared some general studies classes together and Mirio began to rely on you to help him whenever he struggled with homework because you were one of the only students on campus who spoke fluent Japanese.

It was easy for you to fall for a positive and passionate person like Mirio, and he went head over heels for your kindness, smarts, and accent just as quickly.

Your tutoring sessions turned into study dates, which turned into real dates, which ended with you eventually becoming an official item.

Mirio had inquired about your quick once or twice during your time together, but you often brushed off the questions.

“It’s an emitter type quirk that isn’t very useful.”

Your hero course boyfriend never even thought to push the subject any further, but he was very surprised when he found out you had signed up for the school recruitment event that was similar to the Sports Festivals held at UA.

“Don’t they hold this event for hero students to show off and find jobs with pro hero agencies?” Mirio asked you.

“Basically,” you answered with a shrug. “But support course students can use it as a chance to show off their products as well.”

Mirio was worried that it might be a little dangerous, but couldn’t bring himself to discourage you from doing something you wanted to do.

On the day of the recruitment, Mirio makes sure to come support and cheer for you whenever he has time between the events he was participating in.

He was happy to see you doing well in one of the obstacle races until you suddenly came up to a part of the course with thick giant walls blocking the way.

None of your support items seemed to be helpful with the roadblock and it looked like you might not be able to continue the event.

Imagine Mirio’s surprise when you sigh in annoyance before reeling back your fist and punching a giant hole straight through the cement slab and walking past it as if it were just a minor inconvenience.

He’s shocked, of course, but also super excited and proud of you.

“Babe! Why aren’t you in the hero course?! Your quirk is amazing!”

You explain that controlling the sheer force of your power was more trouble than it was worth, and that making support items for heroes had always been more fulfilling for you anyway.

Mirio respects your feelings, but now that he knows how strong you are, he can’t help but ask you to work out with him from then on.

It makes him happy that he can finally do something with you that he excels at since you’d been the one helping him since the beginning.

He will also add your strength to the list of things he brags about when talking about you with other people.

Amajiki

Amajiki already knew the basics of your quirk when he met you since it was on the resume you’d used to apply as a sidekick at his agency.

He had no idea what to expect though at first since your ability to steal other people’s “kinetic energy” was pretty unique.

“Whenever I touch something that’s in motion, I absorb the energy and use it for myself!”

You could literally steal energy from ANYTHING that was moving, be it a small empty can rolling back and forth on the sidewalk or a four thousand ton train racing along its tracks at full speed.

Amajiki learned during your first patrol together that it was even more incredible as it sounded.

“Ah! My bag!” A woman’s scream drew your attention to a man running down the street with a purse he’d just stolen clutched in his arms.

Before Amajiki can even react, you are already running after the man, high fiving people walking in the opposite direction and tapping the hoods of moving cars as you run by to use their energy to boost your own speed.

You catch up with the man in the blink of an eye and tackle him, using his own speed against him to fuel your quirk. You successfully restrain him and wrestle the purse out of his arms.

“You were so fast,” Amajiki says after the incident is resolved. He means it as praise, but he can’t help but feel embarrassed that he hadn’t helped at all. “How did you overpower him though? He was twice your size.”

“I can convert the kinetic energy I collect to do anything I want!” You say happily, “that includes increasing my speed, strength, jumping power, grip and more!”

You start to remind Amajiki of Mirio with the positive energy you give off and the incredible control you master over your quirk.

He is conflicted because he admires you so much, and knows you’re an asset to his team.

On the other hand, he feels like you deserve much more than to just be his sidekick. The poor boy worries that he is holding you back.

He casually brings up the topic of you starting your own agency one day, but is surprised to see how disappointed and sad you look at the very thought.

“Is this your way of politely asking me to leave because you know I have a crush on you?”

You start to apologize for possibly making him uncomfortable and try to explain that you’d tried to keep your feelings in check, but it was hard when he was such a cool hero and amazing friend.

Your words slowly turned him into a blushing, flustered mess.

YOU had a crush on HIM?!

“No, that’s not what I meant!” He begins to stutter about how amazing he thinks you are and how you deserve more recognition, not realizing that you were getting flustered too now.

Somehow, you both make it through the nerves and agree to continue working together at the agency.

Amajiki even finds the courage to ask you on a date.

Even after dating for a while, Amajiki still gets overwhelmed by your quirk sometimes, but you make sure to encourage him and boost his self-esteem whenever possible.

Nejire

Nejire knew about you and your quirk long before you even met her.

Her curiosity about you had been peeked the moment she saw you using your mutant ability to transform into some sort of half human, half jaguar badass warrior.

Nejire’s eyes went wide when your hands and feet grew into big spotted paws with razor sharp claws, giving you the ability to run on all fours at crazy speeds, darting around like a real jungle cat.

When the cameras zoomed in, she got a glimpse of your dangerously long fangs and adorable fluffy ears. The reporter on the tv explained that when your quirk was activated, your jaw pressure was double that of an actual tiger.

Nejire became obsessed. Not only was your quirk super strong, but you also looked super cute when you were using it!

She had so many questions!

The first time she has the chance to see you in person is at the tail end of a pretty scary villain encounter.

She’d been doing her best to hold off a couple of beefed up bad guys who’d been harassing some girls when you’d shot out of nowhere, pouncing on top of the biggest looking one and pinning him to the ground effortlessly.

Her breath had caught for a moment when she saw your glowing yellow cat eyes, but she quickly recovered so she could take care of capturing the second criminal.

Once the incident was resolved, she was quick to bounce over to you and thank you for helping her out.

“You seem totally awesome!” She tells you with a huge smile, “We should definitely be friends! Do you have time to grab a bite after your patrol?”

“Um… of course!” you laugh feeling awestruck to be invited to hang out by one of the famous big three heroes from UA.

Both of you head to the nearest diner, and Nejire spends most of the time interrogating you about yourself and your quirk.

“Does it hurt when the claws and fangs grow out?” She asks. She was so excited she was bouncing in her seat. “Are the jaguar features just physical or do you get any cat like instincts too?”

Her questions could sometimes get pretty personal, but you could tell her intentions were innocent. You didn’t mind sharing information about yourself, and hoped you’d get the chance to learn more about her too.

“Hey we should totally team up again real soon!” She tells you before it’s time to head back home.

“I’d be up for that!” you smile happily at her friendliness. “And maybe we could get dinner after?”

“Oh!” She spins around in delight. “Like a date?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling glad she was on the same page. “Like a date.”

You both are basically inseparable from that point onward. Nejire’s playful and bubbly behavior matched your own and you found yourself spending more and more time with her both in and outside of work.

The more she learned about you and your quirk, the more enamored she became. The same was true for you about her.

Gossip magazines were calling you two a power couple even before the relationship was official.

#Mirio Togata x reader #nejire hado x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #togata mirio #Nejire Hado #Tamaki Amajiki #bnha #mha #Cindy's Writing #writing requests

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

fashion major!kevin

ANYWAY THERE WAS LIKE ONE PERSON WHO CALLED FOR A FASHION MAJOR KEVIN SPINOFF OF THE COLLEGE MODEL JUYEON AU I JUST POSTED (linked below) anyway! hope you enjoy, please reblog if you did, and check out my other dumb overly long blurbs in the stream of idiocy tag on my blog <3

pairing: kevin x gender neutral!reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: fluff, university!au

triggers: cursing

college model!juyeon

TBZ Scenarios Masterlist | TBZ Drabbles Masterlist

kevin moon is known on campus for two things: 1. his bright personality literally everyone loves him and if you don’t you’re jealous of him like sorry not sorry i don’t make the rules you know i’m right and 2. his.... unorthodox fashion sense. like eric thought his snake patterned shit was weird as hell?? but there are weirder things in kevin’s closet i swear to you. anyway this unorthodox style is what got him accepted into the fashion program at the university and even though there are a few assholes who stick their noses up at kevin’s work the vast majority of people are cool w his outfits even if they personally wouldn’t wear them and kevin is v well-liked in his major and on campus in general bc he knows everyone and is nice and polite and really a v cool person to be around when he’s not being a fucking idiot

and on campus there are fashion shows a few times every semester to show off the fashion majors’ work, and let’s just say that this university if p well know for its fashion major so some famous people sometimes come along to these events so EVERY TIME a fashion show rolls around the fashion majors get nervous as FUCK and there’s a lot of speculation on who will get noticed and whatever and everyone is secretive about what they’re working on and just. everyone goes fucking haywire and kevin is always v happy when the stress winds down after a show

(no one knows it but kevin has gotten offers from several companies to work with them after he graduates. he hasn’t told anyone except a few friends like juyeon/jacob and his family)

anyway you are also a fashion major who secretly really admires kevin’s stuff?? like you just think he’s so daring and creative and all of his work is absolutely amazing even if it’s a little weird and honestly you don’t even feel overshadowed by his talent and hard work you just feel in awe that you can be in his presence at all. you’re p sure kevin has no idea who you are bc even though you have a lot of the same classes you’re always too shy to sit or work near him bc even though he seems so nice and approachable he’s also just.... god he’s so good

BUT THEN. one of your professors announces that for the next fashion show they’ll be modeling projects that he’s assigning right now. which is weird asf bc usually you’ll all take your best clothing and like fix it or tweak it for the next show, like sometimes people will make something completely from scratch but that’s nerve-wracking and not many people do it unless they’re in a real pinch but it gets even WEIRDER bc this is not a regularly scheduled fashion event?? it’s like a smaller event apparently that they’ve organized just for this project AND THE WEIRDNESS TAKES THE CAKE when your professor says that YOU ARE GOING TO BE THE MODELS. YOU ALL ARE GOING TO PICK SOMEONE IN THE CLASS TO MAKE CLOTHES FOR AND THEY WILL MODEL YOUR OUTFIT

and this SENDS EVERYONE FREAKING THE FUCK OUT??? bc oh god you can’t rely on the models you’ve been using all semester now??? and you have to make flattering clothes for someone you might not even know v well and it’s just. holy fuck holy fuck holy FUCK

meanwhile you already know who you want to create for (/ahem kevin moon/) but you’re also chicken so like??? you’re just sitting in your seat looking over at him but not saying anything until your friend chanhee just pushes you out of your seat in kevin’s direction and is like GO ASK HIM BEFORE YOU LOSE THIS CHANCE and you’re like JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CHANHEE but kevin’s noticed your movement and he’s looking over with a smile on his face and you’re like jfc i can’t do this but chanhee shoves you again and so you kinda smile (you really hope it looks like a smile) and your voice is LITERALLY shaking when you go over and ask if it would be ok to use him as a model for this assignment and he’s like.... oh my god yes

because what YOU don’t know is that kevin has been ogling your designs all year?? like he enjoys his own style and is comfortable in it but he loves your work as in LOVES IT. he thinks your designs are absolutely flawless and original and you combine styles so effortlessly that he just wants to look into your brain when you come up with ideas bc what the fuck?? you may have different styles but kevin knows how to admire art AND YOUR DESIGNS ARE ART.

so you’re reeling a day later bc now you have kevin moon’s number and he has yours and he’s now texting you on when you think you’ll have the first preliminary designs ready and when you can meet up so you can get each other’s measurements and all that and when you eventually meet up your hands are shaking so much that you can barely take his measurements and kevin is screeching in his mind as well bc oh my god you’re going to model his clothes YOU’RE GOING TO MODEL HIS CLOTHES

most people are again being secretive about their designs and even though someone in their class is modeling for them this time so there’s a bit less secrecy they’re still working alone so you get a shock when kevin asks if you want to coordinate your outfits. like work on designs together and maybe make something that matches a little though ofc retaining your own styles and you just shriek when you get the text and poor childhood best friend younghoon spills his coffee (you have been friends since basically birth and there are no romantic feelings whatsoever ok it’s strictly platonic like you watched younghoon vomit after eating too much bread when you were like 10 and he watched you get tangled up in a soccer net when you were 13 there are no romantic feelings stemming from any of that)

needless to say you reply yes yes ye sYES and kevin is grinning so wide on the other end that juyeon wonders if he’s gone slightly insane (which he has but we’re not gonna dwell on that) and both of you show up to the work rooms nervous as all hell (i’m not a fashion major i have no fashion sense i still think t-shirts/leggings are the way to go so idk how any of this works do not sue me) but kevin has a natural ability to defuse any tension in the room so within minutes you’re comfortable and laughing with him and wondering why you were so scared to approach him before and THEN YOU’RE REMINDED WHY when he shows you his design for you because... oh god.... it’s unbelievable. like it has a distinctly kevin feel to it but he’s clearly been paying attention to what you wear and what you design because it’s something you would like to wear and something you even think you could look good in. holy shit

and you just blurt out like kevin what the fuck this is so good did you like stalk my designs or some shit?? and you mean it as a joke ofc but kevin just goes beet red and mumbles something about how he really likes your work and how it’s so sharply elegant but also insanely creative and you’re just. open-mouthed like. dude i’m in love with your work too oh my god i’m gonna cry my fashion idol just said he likes my designs i’m gonna screaM

kevin stops you from screaming though even though he also feels like he’s gonna scream and this is the start of a very productive partnership between the two of you like most of the fashion majors are friendly despite the competition but you and kevin are on a whole other level?? and you start hanging out more and more often even when you’ve finished designing and are actually sewing (you ask him if this part can be secret bc you want to add a few things as a surprise - he ofc says yes and winks and tells you he has things he wants to add too which just makes you want to scream out of excitement)

and it’s a week before fashion show day and you and kevin are finished with putting together the designs and you’re excited as all hell and kevin is literally about to burst from his own skin and you insist that he goes first and when he pulls the outfit from the bag you’re just. in absolute awe. the colors match the design you made, it looks like it’ll fit, and even though it screams kevin moon it also has a distinct vibe from your own fashion style and you just yell KEVIN MOON YOU GENIUS as you snatch it from him and go change

(you don’t know obviously but kevin is blushing like a tomato while waiting for you to finish changing)

it fits almost perfectly, kevin marks a few places to fix and is debating whether or not to compliment you bc??? that sounds like he’s complimenting his own work and that’s egocentric as hell but then you say something like does it look fine and he just blurts out more than fine. you look great

AND YOU’RE SO FLUSTERED THAT YOU ALL BUT THROW YOUR OWN BAG AT KEVIN and are like GO CHANGE

so he takes out the clothes and goes silent and you’re like.... oh my god does he hate it i mean we worked on the designs together and he said he liked it then but what if he changed his mind but then he looks at you and his eyes are sparkling and he’s like y/n this is perfect. literally perfect and he rushes to go get changed and when he comes out your eyes are bugging out of your head bc holy hell you pictured kevin in these clothes obviously since they were made for him but he looks so much better than you ever imagined

and then you blurt out something like holy shit you look beautiful

and kevin blushes again

anyway you both take your measurements and run out and then the day of the fashion show rolls around and both of you are freaking out backstage but the instant you two go on it’s like you both are literal gods bc you feel so confident in each other’s clothing and the crowd can feel it THEY CAN FUCKING FEEL IT and they go nuts when you two walk out!!! and even though it isn’t like a huge major fashion show, it’s just for this one project that your professors cooked up, you and kevin are both beaming like the sun when it’s over despite the fact that it wasn’t an important event bc holy shit you two had fun and everyone’s complimenting your clothing and it’s great it’s just great

finally all the chaos is over and the clothes have been put away and the makeup removed and you and kevin are now standing outside the venue in a kind of stunned silence that all of it’s over. it’s all over. and then you suddenly thrust out the clothes you made that kevin wore and tell him to keep it. it’s a present. and kevin takes it but he also forces you to take the outfit he made for you. and then there’s silence again

but if there’s anything you’ve gained over the past few weeks it’s a bit of courage. courage that let you talk to kevin, courage that let you design clothes for him, courage that let you become friends (and maybe something more) with him. you’ve also learned that kevin is a massive dork and a lovely human being and you’d really love to at least stay in contact so in that the moment you smile and say ‘if i asked you on a date, would you wear that outfit?’

poor kevin looks like he’s about to have a fucking aneurysm and you start to lose confidence but then he’s nodding like there’s no tomorrow like yes ye sYE S OH MY GOD YE S and omg you now have a boyfriend whom you like very very much and kevin has a partner whom he likes very very much

you two may not be a pda couple but you ARE that couple that matches every outfit they wear, you make jewelry and accessories for each other and also make each other clothes every so often. everyone is jealous of your combined fashion sense bc even though the outfits might look outrageous, you two both manage to pull them off and look fabulous at it, but also they can’t even be that jealous bc you two are the sweetest couple and are absolutely lovely

both of you do wear the outfits you made for that show on your first date which is to like a musical or smth bc theatre kid kevin is something you can pry out of my cold dead hands and everyone’s staring but you two are in your own little world and it’s amazing

kevin admits at one point that he was afraid to ask you out bc he thought younghoon was your boyfriend and you just snort and tell him everything stupid younghoon’s done and by the end younghoon is done with you, kevin is about to vomit he’s laughing so hard, and you are smirking like no tomorrow

for the end of year fashion show you and kevin fix up and accessorize the outfits you two made for the show that brought you two together and there is absolutely no surprise that several different fashion companies scout both of you (and a couple modeling agencies too since you and kevin decided to model your own clothing again - younghoon whines that you’ve replaced him but you shut him up with chocolate bread)

kevin’s a sucker for romance (you CANNOT tell me this isn't true) so your first kiss is on the roof of the fashion building at sunset when kevin does the cheesy thing where he says you look more beautiful the view and you almost slap him but you’re laughing so hard and kevin’s cackling and somehow it turns into a kiss

you are a dork and kevin is even more of a dork and it just works out beautifully bc you’re so absolutely in love that it makes people fake vomit from the sides (looking at chanhee right here) but it’s also really sweet in that you two trust each other completely and would do absolutely anything for the other except murder. kevin made that v clear but really only bc blood would stain his clothing and he doesn’t need that. you agree wholeheartedly (younghoon/juyeon are looking from the sides like what the fuck is this couple do they need help and you two are like just go away and let us be the weird couple we are ok). the conversation ends in a v soft v sweet kiss and just. ik i said it with juyeon but kevin moon is also best bf ever ok you cannot convince me otherwise.

and that’s how it goes :)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for this weird-ass couple)

82 notes · View notes

katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

Text

Wip Wednesday

Untitled fic (Correspondence)

Summary/Story so far: HotchReid, slow burn, AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. We are now months into this... tentative thing that is beyond friendship, beyond flirtatious, they still don't know much about each other on paper... but this feels a lot like dating. And then one day, Hotch abruptly stops answering his phone.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

(Set in season 6, unbeta'd, still the first draft, text/email templates are temporary)

((Notes: Spencer's POV this time, he is 29 and working at CalTech, Hotch still doesn't know how old he is though he does know that he's at least younger than 45 now. Hotch has been MIA now for about 18 hours.))

Spencer spends way too long online that morning, searching for anything about the case Hotch is working. There's nothing about a raid, or a shooting, or even an arrest -- which could all just be apart of the ongoing media blackout -- but it also does nothing to stop him from panicking.

With a drafted email pulled up to Ms. Penelope Garcia, the BAU's personal tech analyst, he ponders how to... even word this without it sounding too personal. Too much like he and Hotch have more than just a working relationship.

Because they do. They have... something.

Something that gives him fluttering sensations in his stomach, makes him check his phone constantly, and react to even the slightest chime similar to his text tone. Makes him smile when he sees Hotch's name on his notifications, in his email inbox, makes him message the man in the middle of the day at the most random thoughts. Just because he wants to make him laugh.

[]You're going to get me in trouble.

[][]Did I make you smile?

[]I'm at a crime scene. There's a dead body in front of me.

[][]Then why are you checking your phone?

[]You know why.

But that’s not something that is shared with the rest of the team, he’s sure. So he should be careful how he words his email, lest Ms. Garcia realize that Spencer isn’t asking purely as a colleague.

Surely they know he has friends, though?

Chewing his lip, Spencer types out a brief email asking if Agent Hotchner is feeling well since he missed an appointment the night before and hasn’t been returning his calls. It’s a phrase he’s used often, so it comes naturally to Spencer as he types it out, and he realizes… he hasn’t called. He’s sent a dozen text messages, but not a phone call. Never a phone call. That was against the rules.

He looks to his phone beside him on his desk, and tries to fight back the dueling forms of panic clawing at his chest. Panic that Hotch might not answer, panic what that means for the man he’s been… becoming more and more inclined to than any other person he’s met in so long. Panic if he does answer, breaking that barrier of written words to spoken, and the opportunity to hear Hotch’s voice. But he would also hear Spencer’s, and then there would be no hiding just how… how young he really is.

But his phone is in his hand before he can stop himself, and Hotch’s contact pulled up and his thumb hovering over the phone number with baited breath.

Was he really going to do this?

He presses the touch screen and can hear the line connecting, the dial tone ring even before he gets the phone up to his ear and waits. It rings, and rings, and rings a fourth time -- before clicking over to voicemail. And Spencer’s hyper-fast thought processes realize he’s going to hear Hotch’s voice for the first time. Frozen in a panic, unsure if he wants to or if that had been something he wanted them to do together that the seconds slip by and suddenly it’s too late.

“You’ve reached the voicemail box of -- (703)-567-8790 -- this caller is not available. Please leave a message after the tone--”

It’s an automated, female voice that rattles off the numbers and generic call back message, and Spencer hangs up before it can begin recording him. Exhaling a shaky breath, that nothing had been ruined between him and Hotch thanks to an ill-timed phone call.

He keeps the momentum going without much thought, and adjusts his email to Ms. Garcia before sending it.

It feels so understated, and yet over dramatic the more he thinks about it. The more he reads it.

Please let me know of his well-being.

God, no wonder Hotch thought he was in his 60’s.

But Spencer has to keep the façade up, not give away anything he doesn’t want to just because the emotional part of his brain is running rampant over the rational one. There are… many explanations as to why Hotch isn’t answering him. His gut feeling aside, he doesn’t need to be panicking like this. The world is still turning, he still has work to do, so Spencer tries to gather himself into some semblance of order and preps to talk to his doctoral students within the hour.

His morning routine progresses as usual, to start. Dr. Reid has his mandatory round up with his doctoral candidates going over thesis and dissertation parameters, class lecture schedules, updates, the works. Like morning announcements, but he requires them all to be there and to listen, and they all show up. Everyone knows of Spencer’s eidetic memory. He will certainly not forget a single date or schedule change, and he expects his students to not forget as well.

But this morning Spencer is fully distracted, his mind elsewhere, somewhere in the state of Delaware with an agent who may or may not be in danger. Because Spencer cannot shake the feeling that something is wrong. It almost seems more like a fact than a feeling.

He becomes even more distracted when his email pings, a response from Ms. Garcia of Quantico, VA flashing across his laptop screen, right in the middle of his department announcements. Spencer’s eyes skim the preview sentence in the pop-up box, and his voice trails off as his mind… whirls.

Dr. Reid, I’m sorry to tell you I don’t know when Hotch will be available again. There was an incident, and he’s still in surg-

Surgery.

That vice-like grip of worry that has taken hold of him since last night tightens further, to the point Spencer can’t breathe. Hotch is hurt, he’s in surgery, and if he hasn’t been answering his phone since last night -- or even late yesterday afternoon -- it was not a minor thing.

Hotch is hurt.

“Dr. Reid? Are you okay?”

“I--” he’s still looking at the email pop-up box, and is clicking on it before he can stop himself. Immediately disconnecting his laptop from the projector as his email loads there. It takes him a faction of a second to read the email. “I’m sorry, an emergency just came up. Kimmy, finish reading off the schedule for me?” He doesn’t even wait until she answers him, just picks up his laptop and retreats to his office as fast as his long legs will carry him.

--surgery and we’re still waiting on word. I know you 2 talk on the reg so I’ll keep you posted.

Fret not, genius professor, our fearless leader has been through much worse than this.

She’s using informal speech patterns, which she has never done before. It bleeds her nervousness, and worries Spencer even more. Ms. Garcia also revealed she knows he and Hotch talk, but surprisingly that doesn’t have the effect he thought it would on his already rattled nerves. Instead, any and all reservations fall away as he types out a response much in the same way he and Hotch had started their friendship all those months ago.

Please, is there anything you are allowed to tell me about the case or his condition? We --

Spencer pauses, bites his lip as he considers crossing this boundary into the uncomfortable unknown, and then thinks about Hotch on a hospital operating table three thousand miles away.

“Screw it,” he mutters and continues to type.

--We’ve become good friends and I’m very worried.

The reply is almost immediate.

That makes 2 of us, boy wonder, but I’m already hacked into the hospital records database and Prentiss is in the waiting room.

I’m sending you the case files and the incident report from last night. Maybe you can see some shiz we can’t b/c the bossman is tough but he’s been in surgery a long time.

Of course, whatever he can do to help. Spencer’s heavy heart-beat triples in his chest as pulls up the files and immediately prints them out so he can read through them faster. But then his mind sticks on something from the email.

Boy Wonder.

Ms. Garcia knows how young he is.

She must have done a background check on him, that would make sense since he’s been consulting so much lately. But why would Garcia know his age, and not Hotch?

Ms. Garcia, did you update my dossier with the bureau after you ran my background check?

If you’re referring to why Hotch seems to think you’re rocking the senior discount at restaurants and not still getting carded for beer, then no I didn’t update it. I’m very anti-gov files having every detail of our lives in them, that’s what I’m for, and I figured there was a reason he didn’t know. Your secret is safe with me, sugar bean.

The real reason is Agent Anderson of the LA field office is a dick, with a bully streak he never outgrew after high school, and didn’t bother filling out a full file on him the first time Spencer consulted for the FBI. Then, he couldn’t be bothered to update it when his consultations became more than a one time thing.

But that was all in the past now, and Spencer can’t even be upset about it. Because now he has Hotch.

Thank you, Ms. Garcia. I’ll let you know my findings soon.

He skims the file quickly, pulling information out at lightning speed. It appears a very straight-forward case. As straight-forward as a murderous sociopath can be, anyway. Very anti-establishment, specified targets that devolved to anyone in a uniform. Anyone who appears too official, or lables as official.

It’s easy to see, now why the unsub attacked Hotch instead of running from him. He practically served himself up on a silver platter. But there’s something about the kills that’s bothering Spencer. The knife wounds, bludgeoning, even the gunshots during the first murders -- it’s all overkill. Rage. Every single target has died from massive internal bleeding, M.E. reports all label the knife wounds and beatings as the cause. But the amount of blood left over, measured during autopsy, doesn’t add up. They bled too much. No wounds indicating intentional bleeding occurred, and the tox screens are all clean.

Except, every victim has elevated potassium rates.

“Oh, God,” Spencer whispers, quiet and horrified. “Hotch.”

There’s no time for email.

He picks up his phone, goes to an older email that has full contact details in the footer, and dials Ms. Garcia’s direct line in Quantico.

“Speak, and behold greatness.”

“Ms. Garcia, it’s Dr. Reid,” Spencer says, and his tone and quickened speech patterns gives way to his panic.

“Dr-- Dr. Reid?”

“Yes, quick there’s no time. Do you have Hotch’s hospital records in front of you still?”

“Yes,” Garcia says, her voice a musical thing even in it’s breathless reaction to his heightened state of haste. “Updated every two minutes.”

“Is his potassium elevated?”

Some quick typing of keys that move faster than even he could ever hope to type. “... Yes.”

God. “Okay, okay I need you to call the hospital right now,” Spencer says in a spiel that all sounds like one word. “Whatever you have to do, he needs Sodium Polystyrene Sulfonate as soon as possible, to counteract the chemical imbalance or he’s going to go into kidney failure and bleed out.”

tbc...

#THIS IS JUST A SNIPPET #I s2g it is but it is also long af #legit this ended up being 1900 words i just didn't feel like stopping you know?#so yall get like... 25% of the entire chapter basically #sorry not sorry #expect a wip every week now #wip wednesday #HotchReid #Heid #katyswriting #don't ask about the dots tumblr and I are in a formatting fight and aren't on speaking terms rn

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dumblydork · 3 years

Text

Wasn't expecting to be back as a writer so soon but I just absolutely CANNOT get enough of writing headcanons and AUs and JUST BEAR WITH ME OKAY

Also I feel like this is super long but it might not be idk

Some more Hinny, with a bit of Romione! So this one is set in the modern magical world. Hope you enjoy! And don't forget, if you have absolutely ANY Hinny headcanons you'd want to see written, please drop me a message or an ask anytime and I'll do my best to write one 3>

"This class just CANNOT get any worse." Ron muttered, drawing lazy lines with his pen on the History of Magic textbook they were reading.

"We literally live in 2020, do we really HAVE to study all this old age crap?" He continued, now shifting to drawing circles as the teacher droned on.

Harry for one, wasn't listening to the professor (though he did vaguely hear him mention 'Goblin War' but that was about it) and neither to Ron. Harry was busy staring out of the window onto the busy streets of London below their high classroom, thinking about a certain redhead.

A certain redhead who also happened his best friend's sister.

"Hi!" Hermione's voice came in an excited whisper as she started taking out her textbook, the dull grey of it made slightly happy with all the colourful muggle stickers (once affronted, she had told Harry that they were called 'Post Its' but Harry just could never bother with the name), full of notes and extra bits. Hermione was careful not to let the professor know that she was suddenly here, a thought which hit Harry when Ron exclaimed almost loudly before Hermione kicked his foot under the table to shut him up.

"I swear to Godric you weren't here literally a minute ago how- Harry?" Ron wondered, calling his best friend.

"Yes it's very odd Ron." Harry almost sighed, back to his brooding. Hermione was doing weird things always- it was nothing new.

"Please be like Harry and stop looking so surprised. Let me focus." Hermione sneered at Ron and whipped out her pencil, furiously noting down from the board whatever the professor had been droning on about for the past 45 minutes.

"And that, is all on the Goblin War of 1785 today. Make sure you finish your homework- remember, 4 pages on the magical strategies used by the two goblin sides to win the war. I need it handed in on Monday. Class dismissed." The professor walked out with his nose in the air, as if he had imparted the knowledge of a lifetime in one single lesson. He waved a lazy hand at the board which wiped off all the notes, releasing a few cries from the back where some kids were still making notes.

"Thank Godric that's over!" Ron could almost cry. Harry was back to paying attention, especially after Hermione slapped his hand. "Earth calling whatever planet Harry Potter is on!" She laughed. The three of them got up and walked out into the corridor.

"What lesson do we have next?" Harry asked absentmindedly.

"What's up with you today? You've been like this since we returned from the Burrow well over a week ago." Ron said thoughtfully, an arm slung carelessly around Hermione's shoulder, who was surprisingly okay with it.

Harry snapped back to reality. If Ron found out, it would be Harry's head and nothing else.

"And what about the two of you? Care to explain," Harry looked at the Ron's arm, "whatever this is? You two have been just finding ways for touching each other, don't think I haven't noticed." Harry finished with a whistle, knowing this was the nerve he had hit. He almost grinned to himself.

"That," Hermione shrug off the arm around her, blushing furiously, "is just two friends being friendly." She finished, but there was a considerable change in the pitch of her voice.

"Yes yes whatever." Harry flicked a lazy hand at the two, knowing fully well they had gotten up to something in the Burrow which was only between the two of them.

The trio had reached the cafeteria where they sat down on one of the empty benches, having half hour free before moving on to Harry's most despised class- Chemistry, or Potions as it was called in the older ages.

Harry let his thoughts move back to the Burrow (courtesy this couple who were now sitting with their sides practically touching). The Burrow was Ron's house, and the trio's favourite hangout. They were there for the summer break, which had ended a week ago, but the memories were still as old as yesterday.

"Oh please, I will kick your ass at Quidditch." Ginny, Ron's younger sister and the youngest Weasley piped, her fiery red hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Quidditch was the one thing Harry really enjoyed- it was rare to have Quidditch matches in school now with so much course load, so these summers were what he lived for.

Particularly this one summer where Ginny had turned up looking just gorgeous, something Harry had failed to notice in the 6 years he had known her. It wasn't as if she wasn't gorgeous before- it just struck him differently this time. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the fact that she could make Harry laugh almost always. She was not only gorgeous- Ginny had developed a sense of humour and sarcasm quite unlike her brothers- they were fond of practical jokes, whereas Ginny was more of the sharp tongued type who could make an entire room laugh without as much as waving a hand. And it was absolutely fabulous. Harry had found himself staring at her practically everyday of summer since he came to the Burrow three months ago.

The way she tied her hair up, or how she bit her lip when exasperated with her Math homework and the way her lips opened slowly first when she laughed. The slight, barely perceptible crook in her teeth and the generous sprinkling of freckles all across her face. It was all suddenly very endearing to Harry.

And hence, midway through his last week at the Burrow, Harry had come to the conclusion that he had started fancying Ginevra Weasley, his best friend Ronald Weasley's younger sister. Not to mention practically Hermione's best friend, despite being an year younger.

So that was why Harry was barely able to keep his impulses in check when he saw Ginny in her Quidditch outfit, wearing a red and gold jersey with cream coloured bottoms. But when he thought of how he could have his ears boxed in by Ron, he could very much focus back on the match and not on a heart-achingly stunning redhead.

"Language, Ginny. This girl," Ron's mom, Molly, muttered under her breath, currently putting up laundry by swishing her wand back and forth. All of the Weasley siblings were back home at the Burrow, except for Percy and Bill, who were both busy working.

"Sorry mom! As I was saying Harry, I will definitely kick your bottom in this match." Ginny corrected herself.

"Please, we shall see." Lately it was getting increasingly difficult for him to produce coherent responses in front of the woman he had come to consider as practically a sarcastic goddess. But he was proud of this response- he should continue thinking about Ron's punches.

"Okay, positions, and go!" Harry heard Arthur, Ron's father say and the match began in earnest. Hermione was sitting this one down with a novel, but at the moment was preparing a jug of lemonade the Muggle way.

Ron and Harry were one team, whereas Ginny, George and Fred were another. The game lasted for a good 40 minutes before Harry and Ron won the game by obtaining the 'snitch' (which was actually just an enchanted flying ball, kindly given to them by Arthur who had an obsession for all things Muggle).

"What happened to all that talk of kicking ass, huh?" Harry laughed, almost falling into one of the reclining chairs. Molly was handing out cool glasses of lemonade. "I think mine needs more ice." Harry said, sipping from his glass.

"Oh I totally forgot the ice! My wand is in the kitchen though." She said sheepishly, not wanting to give up her spot on the recliner. Or rather not wanting to get up from her spot next to Ron, who had decided to perch himself on Hermione's recliner despite there being an extra empty one.

"That's okay, I'll get some myself." He grinned. "I'll come too- I need to change out of this." Ginny added. They walked back inside the Burrow which was empty, with the entire family outside in the garden.

Harry waved his wand which was lying on the kitchen counter into a bowl and ice appeared, shining in the sunlight but not melting. Magic.

He added a few to his glass and leaned on the counter, sipping lazily on the drink. It was good to be away from the noise for a minute. Ginny reappeared downstairs, having changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and unholy thoughts came rushing back into Harry's brain.

"I'll get some ice too, now that I'm here." Ginny took out an empty glass and filled it with ice, presumably wanting to fill it with lemonade later. But the way she took the ice gave Harry goosebumps- she leant across him instead of asking him to move and picked a few pieces of ice from behind him. Harry was frozen in his place- Ginny made no move whatsoever to stand behind. She stood inches away from Harry, just a few centimetres shorter than him.

"Oh for goodness sakes Harry, kiss me already." She rolled her eyes but the tip of her ears went red.

"What?" Harry spluttered- it was something he had been wanting to do since the start of summer but putting it into words stunned him of sorts. Was he THAT readable?

"Don't think I haven't seen the way you've looked at me all summer, Harry. It's not that difficult to know that you fancy me. A lot. And just so you know, I do too. A lot. Have done so since Ron introduced us.* She whispered, but stepped back after her confession.

Harry was still stunned, but could anyway notice the distance she had put, now slightly unsure after her brazenness. She still stared at him, her lips shaped into an imperceptible 'O', begging to be kissed. So that's what Harry did- he pulled Ginny back towards him by her waist and placed his lips on hers, almost tasting sunlight but with cherry swirled in it. His hands remained at her waist but Ginny moved hers to lock around Harry's neck, slowly playing with the curls at his nape. She smiled into the kiss, parting her lips were slightly, just so Harry could taste her; it was sinful but decadent. Very much like a good bar of chocolate. More than good. An absolutely unbelievable bar of chocolate.

When they finally pulled back after what could have been a lifetime, or an eternity, or a few seconds, Ginny grinned at Harry. "Do you not have anything to say?" She stood there's suddenly a bit shy, with her arms still around Harry's neck.

"You said all of it for me. I do fancy you- maybe way too much." He said, feeling as if Ginny's brazen confidence was transferred into his veins.

"That's a relief, because I might or might not have been looking to get you to kiss me." She said, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"You what?" Harry stared at her incredulously, before breaking out into a wide smile.

"Don't worry, the bit about me fancying you is real. Have done so since I was 10." She added seriously.

"So are we a thing now?" Harry raised an eyebrow, quite enjoying the small circles he was making on Ginny's side.

"Keep dreaming on, Potter." She removed her hands from around his neck and disappeared like she had reappeared after changing, what felt like ages ago. Harry smiled to himself before walking outside again, his lemonade glass forgotten.

---

"Really Harry, one would think you're in love the way you're zoned out." Ron stared at him, as Harry snapped back into the real world.

"Huh? Oh yeah." He agreed absent mindedly, still reeling a bit from that summer afternoon.

"You're in love?" Hermione asked, an eyebrow raised as she looked up from what looked like homework.

"Forget me, but you do seem to be." Harry glanced at her notebook, which had R+H scribbled messily on the margins. He grinned as Hermione and Ron blushed furiously.

"Okay fine, me and Ron might have kissed at the Burrow." Hermione said, snapping her book shut as Ron stared at her longingly.

"How interesting, because me and Harry did something similar." Ginny suddenly appeared from behind and sat beside Harry, pressing her lips to his cheek.

The two boys stared back and forth. Ron's eyes widened but returned to their normal size, as Ron slung an arm around Hermione again, except this time she actually leaned into him.

"What? Is happening?" Harry looked around, first at the couple in front of him and then at Ginny. This was all extremely confusing.

"Did you think you were the only observant human to ever exist? Hermione Granger is my girlfriend, Harry. Nothing escapes her. Not when one of her best friends kisses another one of her best friends." Ron laughed.

"Wait so you're not mad?" Harry was still shaken. Was his worrying all a waste? If he'd known, he could have spent more time with Ginny, locked behind doors, his lips on hers-

"Why would I be? I'd rather Ginny end up with you rather than some other git from school." Ron's voice cut into his thoughts breezily.

"Oh. Okay." Harry settled before smiling at Ginny and weaving his hand through hers.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Harry's eyes widened.

"Wait. Hermione Granger is your girlfriend?!" The typical Potter late realisation. The three people around him laughed heartily before Harry joined in, shooting Ginny an endearing look, making the tips of her ears turn red.

#hinny au #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry potter headcanon #harry x ginny #hinny headcanon #hinny #headcanon #school #romione #ron x hermione

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todourouki · 4 years

Text

Mr. & Mrs. Bakugo (1)

a mini series | chapter ONE

✰ I’m finally posting a bakugo mini fic and I don’t think y’all understand just how fucking excited I am for this WHEW anyways yea I think I can post part two in a few hours <3 wanting after this it’s literally just sex and irdc xox enjoy

btw y’all see the gif I made? ain’t it mad cute? ugh i’m soft for this bozo

PAIRING bakugo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT 3.0k

WARNINGS cursing

✎ 2 | ✎ 3 | ✎ 4 | ✎ 5

The office was a generally quiet area. That's how pro-hero Ground Zero liked it. There was always calm, instrumental music playing in the back with everyone dressed in their dark hero outfits in contrast to the complete set up of the office. Anyone hardly ever spoke, compensating for the loud yelling done by the blond man every day in his office.

At lunch, everyone ate the same food and sat with the same people, all returned to their same boring desks and always had the same looks on their face. Everyone enjoyed it, which would be hard to tell if anyone who wasn't a worker there looked from the outside. Bakugo loved the dynamic of his office, he enjoyed the consistency.

That was, until you arrived.

You had been recommended by no one other than the number one hero of his time, All-Might, so Bakugo really felt he had no choice but to take you on. He had never heard of you before— only knowing you were in freshly graduated from U.A about two years prior in class 1-A and he was a bit impressed as he read through your file given to him by the retired-hero.

Y/L/N, Y/N

19 | December 16th

Quirk: Mutation (can look at anyone and quickly mutate into them for max 30 minutes, including their quirk)

Strongest Qualities: Witty, Strong-Willed, Truthful, Punctual, Confident

Weakest Qualities: Quick-Tempered, Defiant, might have a bit of a Superiority Complex, Lazy

The minute he accepted you into his office, he instantly regret it.

You walked in with a smile that was probably a bit too bright for his liking. Your outfit consisted of a black, skin tight body suit with the zipper hanging dangerously low. It resembled the one of that one air headed girl from Shiketsu High from the practical Bakugo participated in. Your curly, voluptuous hair cascaded down your scalp, curly bangs covering some of your forehead. Your long, shiny boots went up to your thighs as you walked with so much confidence, it made him think back to the years he was in UA (which was really only like 4 years ago. He was 22).

He watched as you walked in, hands behind your back as each step made almost close to no noise. The minute you opened your mouth to make a comment about how boring every thing was around you, Bakugo decided he hated you.

It wasn't as if he would ever fire you. He couldn't. You were an amazing hero, and you did your job really well. You mastered your quirk, being able to transform back and forth quickly within the blink of an eye. You mastered stealth, played your role, and were never late to work.

His only real problem with you, was when you weren't on your outside patrols and doing outside work. Outside the office, Bakugo almost loved how good you were at your job. Inside, though? He absolutely despised you. You knew it too.

You'd do things to purposely get him riled up; always walking too slow for his liking to meetings, always being defiant during those same meetings, always sitting with your legs on top of your desk and your body leaned back against the chair as you read a magazine instead of doing actual work, always doing things he despised.

Don't get him started on your appearance either. The body suits never changed, yet they were always some different color. You had the ability to change the color whenever you wanted to on a switch designed specially to help with your stealth, and you used it on purpose.

You knew he hated the bright colors, he hated how you walked back and forth across his office in order to make him glance at the bright, fruitful colors with a smirk on your face. You knew Bakugo would never fire you— you were too damn good at your job for him to even consider it. Today, you found yourself sporting the black version of your body-suit though, wanting to give the man a break before he popped a vessel.

Everyone in the office admired you, slowly doing things like having colored flowers on their desks, or having a bit more fun at work. Bakugo noticed but never said anything.

With that, you found yourself dragging in the bag of papers you had just retrieved from some villains on the parts of town that belonged to Bakugo and his team. You smiled at everyone, politely responding to their greetings and making your way to the door of the man you loved speaking to the most. You weren't sure if it was the anger, the bickering, or the looks he gave you, but he was a very attractive man. There was no denying that. Getting him riled up was your favorite thing to do at work, honestly speaking.

You knocked on his door, hearing his groggy voice tell you to come in. The large black door opened as you pushed it, closing it once you got in and marching over to his large glass desk.

He sat there, hands behind his head as his feet were crossed across the desk and his face screamed I hate being a hero and I'm really stressed. He sat in his hero outfit, all the accessories thrown against the desk as he looked at you waiting for you to speak.

"I got the plans from that one villain hideout on 43rd. It was in this really gross building. I should be payed extra for having to dirty my suit like that." You joked, tossing the bag on the desk and wiping the imaginary dirt off your covered stomach. Bakugo grabbed the bag, looking through it and tossing it back onto the desk.

"Good, get back to work." He simply said, tiredly looking out the floor to ceiling windows across from you. You raised an eyebrow and placed a hand on your hip expectedly.

"What? No smart remark?" You questioned. He looked at you with his crimson red eyes beginning to narrow.

"I don't have time for that today, [y/l/n]." The sophistication made your nose scrunch, moving some things off his desk and propping you butt right into it.

Bakugo stared at you in disbelief, taking his legs off the desk as he stared at you with anger beginning to rise against his cheeks. Bingo.

“Get your ass off your boss's desk." He growled, making you laugh and turn your legs all the way over. They were now facing him, your entire body sitting across from his as he inched his chair back.

This wasn't the first time you had done this, honestly you knew how much he hated it which is exactly why you did it so much. You also knew he really wouldn't stop you from sitting there. It was a thing the both of you had, just like the bickering.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. What's up your ass today?" Your voice was blunt, looking at your manicured hands in front of you and playing with the acrylic white tips in disinterest.

“The fact that you have no respect for your superiors." He grumbled, rolling his chair beside you and beginning to read some of the papers.

His arms were terribly close to your thighs, and you almost had to physically punch yourself to stop thinking about what it would be like if he placed a hand on top of them. You both couldn't do that, you knew how much you despised the man and you knew just how much he hated you.

“You're so fucking boring." You stated, hopping off the desk and strutting your way to the window. Bakugo ignored your, clenching the pen in his hand with more force as he sighed deeply and stood quiet.

This bothered you. There was nothing you hated more than being ignored, and you knew that he knew that you hated that.

“I said," you spoke through gritted teeth, marching over to the desk and gripping the glass with your fingers, "You're, so, fucking, boring." Each word seethed through your teeth as your irritation grew.

“Can you stop being such a fucking attention-seeking bitch and understand that I don't have time for your shit today?" Bakugo retaliated with sarcasm laced in his tone.

He lifted his head to stare at you, both your eyes filled with an immense amount of hatred that made your chest heave. This is how every conversation between the two of you went. You'd walk in, a purposely happy mood to get on his nerves, him having a shitty attitude over whatever minuscule thing happened to him, and both of you having a two lined conversation before starting to bicker harshly. Your eyes never left his, the grip on the glass hardening as you furrowed you're freshly done eyebrows.

“Get the fuck out of my office." Your boss spat, making you scoff at his words.

“You think I want to be in here?" You asked, not once breaking eye contact with the blond man. "I just want to know why the dude that signs my checks has a fucking stick up his ass—"

“That's enough!" Bakugo yelled, slamming his hand against the glass and hearing it even slightly crack.

This caused you to flinch, a scowl appearing on your face. This was the exact end you predicted. You got on his nerves or he got on yours, you'd both come at each other's throats, then you'd leave in a huff. Same thing, different day.

You stood quiet, letting go of the desk and snorting, mumbling the word fucking asshole under your breath as you turned around and walked out the door. Today bothered you more for some reason.

You weren't sure if it was the aggressive way he hit the desk that bothered you or if it was the problems you were going through back in your apartment with a certain man you wouldn't want to think about right now, but whatever it was really pissed you off.

You made sure to slam the door on your way out, walking over to the elevator and going back to the main floor where everyone else from your department was located. On the way, you passed his secretary who always gave you a sneer when you'd come out his office.

You knew, as well as every other damn person that worked for that asshole, that she had some weird obsession with the man. She also had some weird obsession with the idea of you and him sleeping together.

“You should really respect your superiors, [Y/N]." She made sure to put a disgusting emphasis on your name while you waited for the stupid, excruciatingly slow elevator to get to your floor.

“You should really suck my dick, Lui." You retaliated. You were staring at her with your arms crossed against your chest and a smirk playing on your lips.

It wasn't until you turned around that you heard another voice just had to butt in. He just had to speak when he wasn't being spoken to. The elevator finally reached the floor, yet before the doors opened, you heard him call out to you.

“[Y/N], you should really respect Lui," his voice was smug, staring at you with the same crossed arm pose as he leaned against his open door, "she is your superior after all."

You did nothing but glare at him, letting the doors close on your angry face and finally going back down to where you belonged.

✰.

Around two hours later, you found yourself shuffling papers around your desk. It had been a while since you organized it and you thought now that you had nothing to do (and by nothing, you meant having assignments you just didn't feel like doing), now would be the perfect time to do it.

As soon as you started to get in the groove, you heard your phone on the desk buzz and you just knew who it was. With an attitude, you picked up the phone, twirling the cord with your nails.

“Mr. Bakugo would like to see you." Lui sneered, making you roll your eyes and hang up. Mr. Bakugo? Get a fucking grip, you thought to yourself as you made your way to the man's office.

✰.

Ignoring Lui's orders to not walk in without knocking, you shoved the door open and walked inside the man's cold, exposed office. In front of you was a shirtless Bakugo, standing with tailors at his sides as he tried on different shirts.

You gulped, trying your hardest to not stare as you started to play with your nails. It was something you always did to make sure you didn't give the blond any confidence points. He didn't need to know how attractive he looked more than he probably does.

“[Y/N]." His blank tone made you hum in response, waiting for him to continue.

“Look at me when I speak to you." Fuck.

Your eyes rolled, maintaining your composure and looking up at the man that was now buttoning up a crimson red button up shirt that fit him spectacularly.

Your eyes roamed down to his chest for a second, studying the exposed skin before he covered it back up. The man took no notice of your wandering eyes, finally meeting your eyes and clearing his throat.

“There's a Gala in downtown Tokyo tonight. Can I count on you to attend with me?" He questioned darkly. You glared at him, still mad at what he had said to you but huffing in defeat.

You knew this day was coming. You knew you had to go with him to this stupid gala because there were most likely going to be some of the highest paid criminals around and you knew it had to do with the case you were currently working on.

And even if you just wanted to go home after work and take a fucking break from having a scowl on your face all day, you knew you didn't really have a choice.

“Yes."

Your blank response made him send the tailors towards you, beginning to take measures of your body for them. It wasn't until you had to physically stop them with your arms out.

“I actually have a dress of my own I plan on wearing, no need for all this." Your lips curved up to a smile as the men bowed in apology and went back to Bakugo.

The blond man stood quiet, letting you know to be ready by eight and to leave early if you felt it was necessary. An excuse to leave early? Of course you would take it.

✰.

You found yourself frantically fixing your make up while the time read 7:54. You didn't know it would take so much for your curly hair to come to an understanding with you, and with the way time was looking, you were in for an argument once Bakugou arrived downstairs.

He had informed you that he and his driver were going to pick you up so you could arrive together to remove any suspicion from the villains, and you honestly thought it was just an excuse for him to make sure you looked good enough for him.

After finally fixing the eyelash that was threatening to come off, you made sure you were set before reaching for the dress you had been dying to wear. It was an expensive piece, one gifted to you by a close friend that you had never come around to wearing.

It was a tight fitted, spaghetti strap, satin dress. It was a dark vermillion red with a runched up top that tighten against your breasts to lift them up.

It also had a beautiful simple back, only being connected by strings weaving in from side to side as if it were shoelaces. It went past your feet, dragging on the floor in an elegant way, and also had a slit running up landing precisely on your upper thigh.

It was beautiful, and even though it was probably going to be ruined somehow, it was something you were excited to wear.

You slipped on the garter first, a simple black material that tightened against the skin above the slit on your thigh. You shoved a covered knife in it, making sure to prepare for the worst of course.

Finally slipping the dress on, you realized you had absolutely no time to tie the strings in the back as you heard an obnoxious honking from outside your apartment complex, paired with your phone buzzing unbearably.

Without even answering it, you shoved your phone in between your breasts, and grabbed your small, black handbag that had some extra lipgloss, your wallet, and your will to leave since you know you might lose it tonight by spending it with your boss.

The ringing continued as you rolled your eyes and made sure your black strap heels were tight enough before spraying on some extra perfume and running out the door.

Your dress clung to your hand as you used your other to push through doors and scrunch your hair up. It wasn't long before you were finally outside, the honking ceasing as you finally reached the extremely long limousine. You had no time to gawk though, because soon enough the driver, Kari, opened the door for you.

“Apologizes on behalf of Mr. Bakugo, Mrs. [Y/L/N]. He will be meeting us at the location to ensure the safety of both of you." His voice rang through your ears as you tried your hardest not to roll your eyes at the man.

You got in the car with a smile, having it quickly drop as you furrowed your eyebrows and tried your hardest not to bite your lips. You weren't sitting in front of your small mirror for nothing. As the car drove off, you watched your apartment complex disappear and leaned back against the seat.

Made me rush my ass through my make-up just to not show up? What an asshole, you huffed in your seat, taking your phone out from your chest and glancing out the window some more.

✰

back to masterlist | next part

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 4 years

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Chapter three! I already skimmed through it and just. Holy fuck I’m falling in love with this series all over again, and this is just the opening arc, how the hell is this so good??? I’m genuinely just in awe and fuck is it making it hard to decide where to have a cut-off point for this chapter. I suppose we’ll just have to see what fate decides.

(Also, the temptation to just paste in all of the last three pages of the chapter is so incredibly strong, you don’t understand.)

[No. 3 - Entrance Exam]

We start off with some exposition: UA’s hero course is designed to give students all they need to go pro, and is the toughest and most popular hero course in the country, with only a 1 in 300 acceptance rate. Discounting the four slots that are recommendation students, that’s 36 slots a year, which is about…

Yeah. That’s a lotta applications, and that’s just for the hero course!

Several alumni are mentioned: All Might, who declined the people’s choice award; Endeavor, who’s stopped more crimes than anyone else in recorded history; and Best Jeanist, who’s won the Best Jeanist award eight years running. (One of these things is not like the other~ One of these things just doesn’t belong~) The exposition suggests that graduating from UA is basically a requirement for becoming a great hero - something which we’ll learn soon enough isn’t quite true.

But yeah, Endeavor with the record for crime handling, even above All Might. Quite the impressive hero, though that face…

Not precisely reassuring.

So yeah, Izuku here mentions the date of the exam - February 26th. I figure that this has to be a Sunday, for the simple fact that Japan has a slightly different school schedule than us. Most notably: Japanese schools (some of them, anyways) have 5.5 day school weeks. Yes, that means the first half of Saturday can still be a school day.

While I couldn’t confirm for sure whether this is more common among the higher end schools, I feel like a school like UA, with its ‘Plus Ultra’ motto, would definitely be a school to have a half-day (or even a full day) on Saturdays, and since they also have to accomodate for middle schools that have Saturday morning classes, I figure that it would make the most sense for UA to schedule this exam on a Sunday.

The benefits of this, as we’ve already seen, is that we can then narrow down the timeline for the rest of the series, just based on that single, confirmed date. We know from the last chapter that the Sludge Villain had to happen on a Thursday or Friday of the first week of school (April 14th/15th), with the first training session two days later (the 16th/17th). But what this also gives us is when Izuku’s first year of UA starts, AND the possible years it could start on.

Since we see the glowing baby is in a modern hospital, we can assume that’s correlated to about our times. Give it a few generations, and we can guess that we’re in the 2200s or 2300s for the current era. Based on that assumption, we get the following years that have February 26th on a Sunday:

23rd century potential years: 2204, 2209, 2215, 2226, 2232, 2237, 2243, 2254, 2260, 2265, 2271, 2282, 2288, 2293, 2299

24th century potential years: 2310, 2316, 2321, 2327, 2338, 2344, 2349, 2355, 2366, 2372, 2377, 2383, 2394, 2400

As a side note, when I got into the series, my brain weirdly latched onto the idea that this had to all be happening in the year 2317. I don’t know why I decided on that number, but that’s what I rolled with, and hilariously I could be RIGHT about the year the current manga arc is happening in, provided Izuku’s first year is in 2316. Sometimes you just know, ya know? I know at least one other friend made these calcs independently of me and chose to run with 2237, which is totally valid! Probably makes more sense to be in the 2200s, but there’s room depending on how much time one thinks has passed.

As for when Izuku’s high school school year starts, we know that Japanese schools start on the second Monday of April. Since we don’t know if this is a leap year or not, we’ll end up with two dates, but that’s fine!

Feb 26 (Sun) -> Feb 27 (Mon) -> March (6/5, 13/12, 20/19, 27/26) -> April (3/2, 10/9)

Therefore, Izuku’s first day of classes (not counting the orientation, which I’ve seen a few other timelines assume is on the Sunday before classes start) is April 10th (or the 9th if a leap year)! I know this is all in the future from this chapter, but still, I wanted to share this at some point and figured now was as good a time as always.

Math!

Sorry, I’ve just wanted to share this math I did for a while now, I put a lot of work into it and I am very proud of it. Let’s get back to the chapter.

So Izuku lives a 40 minute train ride away from UA, and has made it just in time for the exam. Apparently, this is only the practical portion? Or well, that’s the part that gets focused on in this chapter, with no mention of the paper exam. I would imagine they’d be the same day, though? But I suppose one can do whatever they like with it.

He’s standing there looking at the school, thinking about how he didn’t have a chance to test the power, while the other students head in-

Excuse me, Toga?? I know that hairstyle is just a bit off, but… ???

...right, anyways. Izuku is wondering whether the hair really did anything (also, it was apparently sour, which, ew.) Katsuki comes up behind him and tells him to move aside.

Truly a flattering image. Izuku panics a bit and greets him, but Katsuki just walks by without another word or gesture, leaving Izuku confused as he watches him head on into the building. The narrative notes that since the villain incident, Katsuki hadn’t bothered Izuku, while the unnamed characters in the background apparently recognize Katsuki from the ‘sludge’ incident (well, not shocked how the fandom held onto that name).

Izuku notes that he’s gotta stop flinching instinctively, and then tries to hype himself up, noting that it’s not like before, and think about the past ten months while taking a wobbly step forward- and then tripping over himself.

I’m sorry Izuku just has so many fantastic faces in this chapter I am crying trying to limit myself to just a few. But yeah, that little derp as he realizes what’s happening is adorable, especially while Ochako gently sets him back on his feet. She mentions that it’s her quirk, and apologizes for using it, but that it’s a bad omen to trip and fall. (I wonder if that gets played with again during later parts of the series… will have to check to see.)

While Izuku freaks out over talking to a girl, Ochako notes that the exam is nerve-wracking, and then heads off while wishing both of them luck as Izuku stares after.

This fucking kid. I love him so much. His flustered excitement gets him some weird looks from the others still outside.

We transition to a new character (Present Mic) who immediately shows off his performative side by calling for a ‘hey!’ which… is met with silence from the crowd. He doesn’t let this throw him off, instead letting them know that he’ll present the guidelines for the practical, followed with a ‘YEAH!’ that gets met with an even heavier silence.

Izuku and Katsuki are seated next to each other, with Izuku descending right into excited muttering over Present Mic and how he listens to his radio show every week. Also with the assumption that all the UA teachers are pro heroes, which I mean, true, but still. Katsuki tells Izuku to shut up.

Present Mic explains the test: ten minute long ‘mock cityscape maneuvers’, with the applicants split among seven arenas, labelled ‘A’ through ‘G’. With more than 10k applicants total, that’s about…

Yeah, more than 1500 per arena. Fucking hell, no wonder the robots deplete so quickly in only a few minutes. Also of interest:

“Bring along whatever you want.” So technically, if Izuku were able to procure the tech and training to handle the robots, there would be nothing keeping him from getting into UA quirkless… though I imagine any kid who gets in mostly on tech probably gets side-eyed… though if said kid made their OWN tech, they might also get an offer from the Support department.

(AU where Mei accidentally took the heroics exam and got a shitload of points, but she ended up taking the offer for Support instead despite setting the record for most points in said exam. Katsuki forever wants to fight her. Izuku and her are good friends.)

Also, another thing I love is how Katsuki just told Izuku to shut up a moment ago, and then:

He’s the one to initiate conversation on the details of the test, basically agreeing on the reasoning behind dividing up the students between arenas. Katsuki is annoyed at not being able to crush Izuku, which has Izuku awkwardly silent.

Also mini-Mic.

Poor, poor Mic. He just wants audience participation. Anyways, he continues on to explain the points system, with the help of cute little Mario-themed silhouettes. There are three kinds of faux villains, with different points awarded for defeating each based on their difficulty levels. Also, attacking other examinees is prohibited!

A student (cough Tenya) raises their hand to ask a question, going on to note that the handout sheet appears to have four varieties of villain, and that such a blatant error (if it is one) reflects poorly on Japan’s top academy. He then spins around and points at Izuku, calling him out for his muttering and how distracting he’s been, and that ‘if this is some sort of game to you, then please leave immediately!’

Is that… Mineta seated behind Izuku? I can’t find another panel that disproves that theory, so. Whelp. If you ever for some reason want to have Izuku accidentally deal with the grape early, he’s right there.

Anyways, Present Mic brings the convo back to the initial question/comment, noting that the fourth villain is worth zero points, and is more of an obstacle. He then brings up Super Mario Brothers, the old retro game, and compares the Zero Pointer to a thwomp. There’s one per site, serving as a gimmick that’ll rampage in close quarters. Tenya thanks Mic and apologizes for the interruption.

And so we get our final words from Present Mic:

??? either he's referencing the original guy (which I think would be a misquote because I doubt OG Nap ever noted anything like that) or some French hero or the like who took on the name.

Discord offered this to me while putting together the post:

So there you have it. Tentatively confirmed.

Those EYES man, dude’s got the Rinnegan going on.

Honestly, I have to end on this panel just because of that last line from Present Mic. Like, look me in the eyes and tell me this isn’t the exact point to end on.

The discord’s takeaway from this:

#chapter 3 #opening arcs #readthrough #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #yamada hizashi #iida tenya #I seriously cannot believe they actually said 'break a leg' while Midoriya Izuku was in the area #like talk about tempting fate #and that little bow #like 'yes sir i will do my best to break a leg'#'in fact i will break both legs AND an arm'#'Plus Ultra!'

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daughterofluthien · 4 years

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Fictober - Day 10

Prompt number: 10. “all I ever wanted” Fandom: Teen Wolf Rating: T Characters/Relationships: Tamora Monroe, Scott McCall Word Count: 3728 Warnings/Tags: canon-typical violence A/N: Three years after the battle for Beacon Hills, Monroe calls a second peace summit. It doesn’t go the way she anticipated.

The moon hung low and large in the sky; it seemed to shine more brilliantly than it ever had in the past. Tamora glanced up at it briefly and hoped she wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

Mistake or not, the decision had already been made and she had a responsibility to follow through. She adjusted the strap on her rifle, relieving the uncomfortable pressure on her shoulder; she wasn’t sure that she'd ever get used to carrying a weapon for long periods of time.

Part of her — the part that had a bachelor’s degree in education and a masters in counseling, both pursued immediately after the preceding graduation — still wished that the weapons weren’t strictly necessary. But the past few years had taught her that the world was more complicated than it appeared in textbooks.

When your opponents had access to claws and fangs as a standard part of their anatomy, arming yourself was just leveling the playing field.

She glanced back at the five equally armed men and women behind her, all of whom she assumed were in a similar state of unease, and distracted herself by running through plans and contingencies. Tonight’s plan was… bold. To say the least.

But with the growing public outcry against her organization—not to mention raids by the likes of the ATF and FBI, which resulted in multiple arrests and the confiscation of several caches of weapons—she needed bold. She needed decisive. And above all, she needed something that would solidify the need for the cause in the hearts and minds of the others.

While she was glad that many of the men and women who followed her had not been personally affected by the devastation that was so often left in the wake of the supernatural, many of them were unaware how dangerous these individuals truly were. If she wanted them to remain committed, then they needed to understand personally.

Of course, it didn’t help that so few of the skirmishes between the two sides actually ended in casualties.

There were exceptions to this, of course—poorly planned out attacks on whole packs that could only ever end in a bloodbath. And as expected, the survivors of those assaults returned to her, or to the leaders of their own cells, with a renewed fervor for the cause. If they managed to escape alive, they understood the importance of the fight.

But for every event of that type, there were at least two others where the only reason a fight occurred was because one or two werewolves showed up to protect one of their own. And in those cases, they almost never pressed the advantage. Survivors of those incidents returned confused as to why they were even alive.

She remembered speaking to one such survivor as he cleaned and bandaged a shallow slash on his shoulder. She had placed a hand on his shoulder, and told him that he was lucky to be alive. That it was a testament to his bravery.

The man shook his head and stared pensively off into the middle distance. She wondered what he was seeing in his mind.

When he finally found his voice, he spoke slowly and thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so… He yanked the gun out of my hand. Threw me to the ground. But the power behind it—” He shook his head again, and returned to winding the bandage around his shoulder. “He could’ve me. Easily. But he left me alive.”

“Because he was afraid. Because he knows how strong we are, and what we would do if one of us was killed.”

“Nah, he wasn’t afraid.” The bandage complete, he pulled his shirt back on, and winced as he moved his arm experimentally. “I’ve seen men afraid. Seen those things afraid, too—hell, that kid you sent me after tonight? She was terrified.” He glanced up at her, a dark look in his eye. “How old was she, anyways? The kid?”

Tamora fixed him with a look. “You know as well as I do that age doesn’t matter. As soon as their abilities manifest, they’re a danger—to us, and to the rest of the human population.”

“How old?”

She didn’t look away. “Seventeen, I believe.”

The man snorted, but didn’t answer. He shook off her hand and stood up.

She allowed her voice to harden. “So I take it the mission was a failure?”

“All he wanted was the kid, and he got her. Far as I know, they’re both still alive.” He picked up a bag with his gear and turned to leave. “Can’t say I’m crying about it, either.”

Tamora didn’t go after him then. She didn’t try to change his mind, because to do so would be to show weakness.

He wasn’t the first or the last to leave with a similar story.

And to make matters worse, at the same time that her organization was hemorrhaging followers, certain elements of the supernatural were rapidly gaining support worldwide.

The first time she encountered an individual with the McCall Pack tattoo, the others who were with her at the time laughed, joking that the creatures were finally painting targets on themselves, and that it would be rude not to oblige.

The laughing stopped when the symbol started showing up on graffiti and in signatures on message boards. These days, anyone who knew anything about the supernatural knew what the two concentric circles meant, even if they’d never heard the name Scott McCall.

It stood for something. Something that people believed in. Something that they wanted to follow—not out of fear—but out of loyalty and conviction.

In the face of that, Tamora was starting to wonder if she stood for anything at all.

Which, she reminded herself, was the reason they were here tonight. The individuals following behind her were some of the most influential members of her organization, all leaders of multiple cells around the world, she needed to make a point to them.

And if she needed to prove it to herself as well, then that was all right too. After all, she had learned in her classes that even counselors need therapy, from time to time. There was no shame in having doubts.

Shame came in acting on them.

She had poured everything that she had—everything she was—into this mission. This cause. And she refused to let it all be in vain.

The last three years meant something. They needed to mean something. And if she needed to take drastic action to remind herself of that, then so be it.

After all, she had started the stage of her life with drastic action. Before that night, she had never acted violently toward anyone. Had never even touched a weapon. But she had the courage to act when it mattered, and defend herself against the monsters that roamed freely in this world.

She remembered being terrified, that night. Her grip hadn’t been tight enough, and she nearly dropped the gun when it recoiled in her hands.

But she had fired the gun. She had taken action. And from that moment on, she wasn’t just a victim. The sort of person that sat passively by while people who didn’t really care patted her hand and said things like ‘you’re lucky to be alive’ or ‘at least you’re safe now.’ The traumatized final girl in a slasher movie.

She had agency now. The power to control her own narrative. And not only that, she was in a position to empower others as well.

Fear destroys a person, and no one deserved to be afraid. No one deserved to be forgotten.

Together, they could change the world. And when they were done, no one would be.

But she had been fighting for the cause for three years, and the people she led had forgotten what it meant to be truly afraid.

Tonight, she would show them. She would break down the lies and empty legends. She would remind them of the difference between what is human and what is not.

She just hoped enough of them survived to tell the story. ________________________

Despite the guns and other gear, their small procession moved quickly, and arrived at the set meeting place ahead of schedule. Tamora checked her watch when they arrived.

12:13 AM. They were early, which was fine by her. She ordered the two most nervous looking men to scout the perimeter. Not because she truly expected an ambush, but because she knew they needed something to distract them.

She glanced up at the moon a second time. It was the largest she had ever seen it—which might generally not mean much, as she had only really paid attention to the moon these past three years—but tonight she trusted her senses. She had planned, had done her research, and she knew that tonight wasn’t just any full moon.

Tonight was the second in a sequence of three consecutive supermoons.

Tonight, the moon would travel closer to the earth than it had in years. And at 12:44 AM precisely, it would be at its highest point in the sky.

Werewolves were, first and foremost, creatures constrained by their nature. Even an Alpha would be unable to remain in control under that sort of pull.

Even Scott McCall.

She shivered against fall wind, and pushed away the thought that the shiver might be due to nerves, rather than the cold. She wasn’t afraid of dying, and she knew this time she wouldn’t be forgotten. If she was killed, her sacrifice would mean something.

This was the right thing to do.

“There’s someone coming!” The man behind her meant it to be a whisper, but it was harsh and loud. And if it was loud to her, she could only imagine what any werewolves in the vicinity heard.

She knew she was being watched, so she didn’t roll her eyes. Instead, she schooled her features, let them settle into a cool, practiced mask, and smiled. “They’re here.”

She heard a chorus of clicks behind her, as her companions raised their weapons. Multiple lights scanned the field in front of her, revealing half a dozen or so figures approaching. As the flashlight beams passed over the little group, she noticed the reflected eyeshine in a little over half of the members—a sure sign that the individual in question was a non-human.

She wondered briefly if the others were human. She knew that some packs—including the McCall pack—accepted humans among their ranks, but she never understood why a human would agree to join one. Supernatural creatures shared an instinctual connection to each other that humans could fundamentally never truly share. A human who ran with wolves could only ever be trod on and forgotten.

The individual at the head of the approaching pack turned to speak to his companions. After a short discussion, he approached alone.

She did not move—he could come to her.

Tamora hadn’t seen Scott McCall in person since that night in Beacon Hills High, over three years ago, and she realized that she barely remembered him. All she remembered was the fear.

And at the time, she had reason to be afraid. Gerard Argent had told her who he was, explained that he was the most powerful werewolf in Beacon Hills. That he had others who were loyal to him and would fight on his behalf. She had only met him a handful of times, but the idea of him had terrified her.

But Beacon Hills was in the past, three long years and hundreds of miles away, and she hadn’t felt that sort of fear in a long time.

Face to face with the Alpha for the first time since the night she fired a bullet at his heart, she realized that she wasn’t afraid. At least, not in the way she had been back then—that sort of all-encompassing, fight or flight sort of fear.

She had chosen to fight, and it had been instinctual. Because in the end, all creatures are slaves to instinct.

A quick glance at her watch told Tamora that it was 12:35. It wouldn’t be long now.

She looked back up at McCall as he squinted in the harsh light of the multiple flashlight beams that had suddenly been trained on him, and for a moment, he looked young. Like one of the kids that she visited colleges to recruit. The ones who were so full of pent-up rage at the world, and were desperately looking for guidance and direction.

Except she didn’t see any rage in McCall. There was power in his stance, yes, but beyond that she only saw quiet confidence, mixed with a wary but surprisingly open curiosity.

He broke the silence first. “You’re the one who wanted to meet. But if you have a way that all of this can end—” he glanced behind her and she assumed the guns were now being pointed at him “—then I’m willing to listen.”

She allowed herself a soft smile. “I won’t apologize for the precautions, Scott.” She glanced up pointedly at the moon, which hung above them, unobscured by cloud cover. “I’m afraid we’re all aware of what exactly a night like tonight can mean for someone like yourself.”

He nodded, but didn’t follow her gaze. When she met his eyes again, she saw sympathy, along with another emotion she couldn’t name. It was gone a second later, leaving only the sympathy behind. “Yeah, I am. But you don’t have to be afraid.”

“Fear is a natural response to the unknown. Are you trying to tell me that the ordinary people of this world, they don’t have the right to be afraid?”

His response was immediate. “No, of course they do. The existence of the supernatural— It would terrify anyone. And trust me, I get that.”

It wasn’t the response she expected, and she scoffed. “What could you possibly know about fear?”

“More than you think.” He paused, like he was trying to figure out the correct direction to take the conversation. “Actually, all werewolves do.”

She didn’t quite know what he meant by that, though she supposed that all creatures felt fear. But the content of tonight’s conversation wasn’t important, and all that mattered was that she drew it out as long as possible, so she asked for clarification. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

He considered. “Three months ago there was a kid, sixteen years old. You met him in LA.”

She remembered. “The Omega.” McCall’s face hardened at the term, but he didn’t say anything. “It was a full moon, and he was half-feral to begin with. I was defending myself.”

That night had been an abject failure of the worst kind—not only had they lost their quarry, but one of her best men had been killed in the process. It had also marked the beginning of the string of failures that had eventually led her here.

McCall shook his head. “He was terrified. The moon—” He cut himself off, casting about for the correct words. “It gives us power, yes. But it doesn’t cause the aggression. All it does is amplify what’s already there.”

“Then your kind is dangerous by nature. You’re just good at hiding it the rest of the month.”

“Except it doesn’t amplify aggression. Or, at least, not just aggression. It’s everything you feel—happiness, anger, love. Fear.” He raised his eyebrows slightly and held her gaze. “The boy you tried to kill that night, Alec? He was terrified, and not just of you.”

She wondered what McCall hoped to accomplish by bringing up that particular event. If he meant for her to feel guilt about it, then he was sorely mistaken.

She and her men had been in Los Angeles to hunt an Alpha; they eventually managed to corner him, but not before he had attacked and bitten a young bystander. Once the werewolf was dead, she told the boy the truth—that he would either die, or she would return the next day to kill him.

Though of course, the young werewolf wasn’t even dead—last she heard, he had joined McCall’s apparently ever-expanding pack.

At any rate, her conscience was clear. “He had already been bitten when I found him. You and I both know how that ends.”

He shook his head. “The night you found him, he was attacked. And for some reason that he didn’t fully understand, he survived. But he was dragged forcibly into a dangerous world, one that he knew nothing about, and when someone did show up? They weren’t there to rescue him.” He paused, as if to make sure she was listening, and raised his eyebrows. “I think maybe you know something about that sort of fear.”

She didn’t want to think about cowering, huddled beside the still-warm corpse of a co-worker. About squeezing her eyes shut and praying desperately to a god she didn’t really believe existed.

Tamora eventually shoved the thoughts away, and reminded herself all she really needed to do was keep him talking, and the moon would do the rest soon enough. It didn’t pay to let herself be distracted.

It still took her longer than she wanted to respond, but to her relief, her voice remained even. “If you’re trying to elicit some sort of sympathy from me—”

“I just want you to understand—”

“We’re long past understanding.” She felt her anger surging, and she wasn’t sure if she cared about staying emotionally detached anymore. “And don’t you dare compare your kind to mine, when something that’s a common part of the natural world turns you into a monster!”

He took a step closer, likely about to make yet another impassioned plea for inherent humanity of the inhuman. Or rather, he started to step closer. He stopped suddenly instead, eyes darting to stare at a point over her right shoulder.

She turned to follow his gaze, hand already drifting to her gun at the sudden, serious intent in his eyes. As she did so, several things happened in quick succession:

McCall yelled something she didn’t have time to process, though she thought she heard her name.

The sharp, deafening report of automatic gunfire split the air. Short burst, over as soon as it started.

Not part of the plan.

She turned to yell at whoever had been stupid enough to pull the trigger before it was time. “Hold your fire, goddamn—”

Her right shoulder burned with a new, intense pain.

Her hand flew up to grip the offending area, and she swayed on her feet.

The pain swelled and her vision grayed, and when the world came back into focus she was on the ground.

As far as she could tell, no time had passed. She hadn’t been unconscious. She tried to push herself up into a sitting position, but her shoulder burned like it was on fire, and each movement sent a new wave of pain coursing through her.

McCall looked over his shoulder at his pack and shook his head, then was at her side before any of her men could reach her. All she could see was the moon, and for one brief, frozen second, she was sure this was the moment. McCall would tear out her throat, and the world would finally see him and his pack for the monsters they truly were.

She had hoped that she would live to see it. But if this was how it had to end, then it was worth it.

The blow never came.

She heard footsteps running up behind her, and she tried once again to prop herself up into a sitting position, this time successfully. The expected wave of pain never came. She noted with confusion that McCall’s hand was on hers—she pulled her own away, fixing him with a glare.

Then she noticed black veins slowly receding into his hand and arm, and she froze. Her sudden lack of pain made sense now.

But it was the only thing that did.

The others reached her now, and she looked up to see six guns pointed directly at McCall, who glared back at them.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” This was from one of the men she had only just recently met. Everyone else seemed too wary, too afraid to make a move.

McCall raised his hands slowly, eyes not leaving the face of the man that spoke. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tamora spoke first.

“He took my pain.”

The man looked skeptical. “And why would he ever do that.”

She looked back at McCall and shook her head slowly. “I don’t know.”

After that, everything was almost shockingly mundane. She sent someone to go get the medical kit, and Deanne—one of the cell leaders that she had the most contact with over the past few months—began to bandage her shoulder.

McCall stood to leave, but Tamora stopped him. “I don’t understand.”

He paused, then turned back. And when he spoke, she knew it was words he had considered carefully. “We don’t have to act out of fear. We always have a choice, and there’s always a better way. All I ever wanted was for you to see that.”

He returned to his waiting pack, and she checked her watch. 1:04 AM. The moon had passed its meridian and had already begun to set.

She closed her eyes.

It was supposed to be her moment of victory—a violent object lesson that would prove the accuracy of her beliefs beyond a shadow of a doubt. Instead, the moment came and went. And she didn’t even notice.

McCall hadn’t become aggressive or angry, or had even looked like he was fighting it. Instead, all he had been was kind.

She planned for tonight to be the great unmasking—the moment when she tore back the curtain of civility and revealed the monsters to the world. If she had proved that even the great True Alpha Scott McCall was little more than a feral beast, then humans around the world would’ve rallied to her cause.

But she hadn’t. And maybe—

Maybe he wasn’t.

Maybe he never had been.

It was treacherous thought, and she betrayed herself by thinking it. Her shoulder throbbed dully, though it was still nowhere near the earlier waves of pain

For the first time in years, she wasn’t entirely certain what to do next.

#fictober20 #scott mccall #tamora monroe #so full disclosure this was written over like. 5 days. and absolutely no editing was done #but here it is and if nothing else i am very attached to a lot of these concepts #my fic

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sourbat · 4 years

Text

Kloktober Day 4

Villains or Family

Rating: T

Warnings: Language

Summary: A few headcanons I have for Nathan and his father. How his father helped Nathan develop. Anyways, check it out.

When Nathan was three, and his mother was tired of trying to convince him to sit still or risk getting cut by the scissors, his father walked in and snatched them up, hoisting them just above her reach. Nathan saw the attractive glimmer of the smooth steel, but instinctually recoiled when his mind drew up memories of the sound it made when it cut through his hair, and that god-awful sensation of freshly cut trimmings against his skin. Short bristles. Sharp, irritating, and they stuck to him even after his mother attempted to wipe it all away. But as he withdrew, he heard his dad tell his mom “no more of this,” and to “let the boy be,” and even though he couldn’t look up, listened in on every word, absorbing it all to memory.

“He clearly doesn’t like it, Rose,” his dad continued, ignoring the worries and pleas of his overly concerned wife. “I ain’t worried. You see this boy? Don’t look like a damn girl to me!”

“But Oscar.”

“Let the damn boy be, Rose,” his father said, keeping his voice solid and firm. Strong. Controlled. Though Nathan couldn’t bring himself to meet his father in the eyes, he caught glimpses of his smile in his peripheral vision, always aimed at him, always there. “You want to rock long hair, son? Go ahead.”

And like that, his dad saved him from another dreaded haircut from his mother.

When Nathan was six, and already so much taller than most boys his age, his father threw out his back, and couldn’t carry him across the dry, coarse overloading hell that led to the ocean. Days before the trip his mother warned him he’d need to walk across the sand, that it was only for a short while, and would lead to the comforting splashes of cool, deep sea water. Briny, foamy ocean water. Salty and cold. Water that spoke a language Nathan understood better than English, that told him secrets he could only hear, and promises that, although he couldn’t comprehend, knew one day he’d fulfill. Although his father didn’t know this, he knew the water was important, and bought Nathan his first pair of boots.

“You gotta promise me you’ll make this work,” he said after shoving the boot on Nathan’s foot. Nathan remembered the comforting feel, the constricting, but promising protection hat ran up his legs. “You walk slow, no sand. You run, you’ll get sand trapped in there, and I’ll never hear the end of it from your mom. Alrighty?”

Nathan could only recall providing his father an inquisitive glance. But his dad slowly nodded in return, interpreting his silent message, the hidden appreciation that only a father could decipher. And on the day of their trip, despite the stares, Nathan donned his boots and trekked across the beach: clumsily, but determined. His hands covered his ears most the way, senses juggling between the heat of the sun, the array of colors and flashes of people and their families making so many distracting sounds. Then the sand turned dark, soft and clumpy, and Nathan dropped it all when the sounds of waves consumed everything else. Once the ocean called, he removed them, mouth agape as he set forth barefoot while his mother crossed her arms, rolling her eyes at an overly proud Oscar Explosion soaking in another personal victory.

Then summer ended, and the school forced another private meeting between teachers and parents, and the adults did that thing where they mentioned Nathan by name, but acted as though he wasn’t entirely there. The one with the clipboard talks about his underachievement during first grade, while the other with the glasses insisted “this was for the best” and “Nathan needs special care.” Special care for special boys. His mother called him special all the time, but the way the teacher said it didn’t make it sounds the same. Certainly not when she talked about him like he wasn’t all there. Like he was asleep, in another room. But he was awake, and so was his dad, and his mother, though terrified of the terms they used, the tests they handed her, the frightening prospects they laid out, was also waking up to the bullshit.

“Now you listen here,” his dad said in a growl Nathan had never heard before. It startled him. Reached deep in his heart. Grabbed, mesmerized and inspired him. “You told me last year he was good for general education. Now you’re telling me otherwise? I don’t think so!”

His father slammed the desk, and while his mother gasped, Nathan remained astutely calm. The noise didn’t bother him, didn’t mess with his senses like it normally would. He remembered looking up, first at his dad, then at the teachers who expected him to act out, to get frustrated over his father’s booming voice, him calling them “the retards in the room,” and that “they were the real failures, not Nathan.” Not Nathan.

“You put him back in class with everyone else,” Oscar said, standing up and dominating the scene with his oppressive build. “You want him to talk more? Put him with everyone else, dammit! But I’ll tell you what you won’t do: treat my boy like he can’t fucking hear every passive remark slithering out of your forked tongues!”

That year Nathan became class president, and later attended the first of what would eventually become a long series of funerals. All in all, it was a very busy year, so much so Nathan found that internally mulling over these events simply wasn’t enough, and started muttering, growling and grunting them out–trying to recapture that powerful boom–and in the process, seizing the delights of his ecstatic parents.

Just a few years later, Nathan discovered metal. Not the smooth, cool and attractive metal that he loved to hold, bend and melt under his father’s supervision; but that wondrous crash and boom, distracting bang and guitars shredding and tearing through notes, ripping and spreading them across the melody at a voracious speed, and meaningful lyrics that exploded with a brilliant energy. Nathan was all too familiar with it. What was often trapped in his head now took form in music, and once Nathan had the words in his possession, wanted to share and discuss it.

His parents were surprised by his new interest. They didn’t understand how something so rough, so loud and imposing could act as a blanket, covering him from the drowning sounds of everyday life. Try as they might, they lacked the mental prowess Nathan possessed, and only saw the genre as something loud and easily avoidable. They didn’t know what it was like to live it, to feel it in their bones, to have it shoot through their nerves twenty-four seven. To Nathan, metal came as natural as breathing.

Neither parent understood, but their love was there, and although Nathan was quickly approaching the age where he cared less and less for his parents’ opinions, often returned to the livingroom, to his father sitting in his worn, leathery throne, newspaper or beer in hand. Didn’t matter if the game was on, or if there was politics on the mind, and argument between parents, or some other boring adult thing. The man listened.

Nathan walked in, hands clasped tightly around his cassette player. Music blasted through his headphones, so loud it could be heard over the line of infomercials. His father raised his eyes above the paper, brows lifting in mild interest as Nathan pulled the cassette cover out from his khakis, practically shoving it into his face.

“Hey,” Nathan said. “Hey, dad?”

Mildly crossed-eyed, Oscar feigned ignorance at the cassette placed so close to his face. “What is it, son?”

“Look at this,” Nathan said, wiggling the bright cassette depicting a pyramid and gruesome skeletal idol. “It’s the Iron Maiden cassette I got today.”

“I can hear it. A little loud, don’t you think?”

“Whatever,” Nathan said, yanking the cassette away from his father, fidgeting some as he stowed it back into his person. “It’s good. Supposed to be loud… Hey, dad.”

“Mhmm,” his father said, then folded his newspaper and let it rest on top of his lap. Nathan stood, tall and broad, brows permanently furrowed and eyes expressing a delightful combination of glee and rapid, wild energy. He watched his son, a large, massive form, eager to share all his world with him and everything else in between, whatever got caught along the way, and so much more. Oscar glanced at the empty couch beside him, and pointed at it. “Sit down, sit down. I’m listening. Tell me about your Iron Metal…”

Nathan was already headed to his seat when he paused to send his father a disapproving scowl. “Ugh, it’s Iron Maiden, dad,” he said, voice inflection on the rise over such a silly mistake.

Chuckling, Oscar replied: “Right, Iron Maiden. Tell me about Iron Maiden, son.”

#kloktober #nathan explosion #oscar explosion #fanfic #metalocalypse #tw: language

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