first signs of trouble

anti-cullen players: cullen is complete trash and a horrible person who should be despised by everyone!!1!

extreme pro-cullen players: my bf has never done anything wrong, ever, in his entire life, and is made of sunshine and should be loved by all <3

me: cullen wanted to help people and devoted his life to an order he idolized since childhood, a cause which he believed in, but was ultimately corrupt and fine with throwing out the rules at the first sign of trouble. he was traumatized at the kinloch circle and still tried to follow the templars, but with a hardened outlook.  he served under a fanatic leader who used her superiority to influence him into being complicit with her abuse towards her chargers. after a time, he become weary of her and when the depth of madness became apparent, tried to remove her from command and help the people of kirkwall.  he believes that his actions can never be forgiven and he has no right to ask for that forgiveness. regardless, he still does his best to help people and atone for his past mistakes.  cullen is a complex, nuanced character who is neither good nor bad and cannot be written of as one or the other

chemistry of an alpha - Derek Hale one shot *smut*

Originally posted by teamsciles

Summary: You didn’t avoid Derek Hale because you wanted to. But what else can you do when you’re falling for your Alpha? 

Pairing: Derek Hale x reader

Rating: Mature for heavy swearing, graphic sexual content 


“Ahem.”

You looked up from your Chemistry homework as you heard a cough behind you. Derek Hale was leaning against your doorway with his head cocked to the side, staring at you thoughtfully. You rolled your eyes and resumed your schoolwork, already knowing why he was here. 

“Go away,” you mumbled. 

“No, I’m good right here,” he announced. You ignored him.

A few beats of silence passed.

“[y/n],” he pressed. You gave him nothing, absentmindedly scanning your notes.

Suddenly, you felt yourself being jerked backwards and around, coming face to face with your intruder.

“What the hell?” you rebuked.

“That’s better,” Derek chimed. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you deadpanned, somewhat surprised you could still deflect his questions, given his persistence. Then again, you were always good at avoiding things, a skill useful for dodging the rest of the pack’s investigation. You didn’t back down when Scott offered to give you a ride home just as an excuse to prod you, when Isaac cornered you at your locker with his sad puppy eyes, or even when Allison tried to literally hug information out of you. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and stared stonily at Derek, unimpressed by his interrogation tactics.

You couldn’t even process the next few seconds as he swiftly grabbed the arm of your swivel chair and abruptly pulled you towards him, backtracking to your bed. He sat down so you were eye-level. 

Your eyebrows nearly disappeared into your hairline.  

“Let’s try that again,” Derek enunciated slowly. You crinkled your nose at him because what the fuck is his problem?

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Derek scoffed. “Even without the pack telling me you’ve been weird and distant lately, it’s obvious you’re not yourself.” 

You cursed inwardly. The pack had ratted you out. You shouldn’t be surprised since everyone basically flocked to Mommy Derek at the first sign of trouble. They were cute that way. 

“Still,” you huffed, shifting uncomfortably in your seat under Derek’s scrutiny. “You didn’t have to manhandle me–”

“Just tell me what’s up,” Derek continued nonchalantly, glossing over your complaint. “Your heart’s beating really fast and you’ve reeked of anxiety for days. If there’s a problem, you’re supposed to tell me. I’m your Alpha.” 

Goosebumps rose along your spine at his words. I’m your Alpha. The phrase echoed in your mind. It manifested in images of Derek whispering it in your ear while he fingered you from behind, rasping it out while he held your head down to fuck your mouth. You closed your eyes, frustrated by how much Derek’s authority affected you. Fucking Alpha. 

“Excuse me?” 

Your eyes shot open. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

“No! I–that wasn’t, um…” you stuttered, fumbling for ways to reverse this conversation, reverse time itself. But there was nothing you could do. Your mind went blank, not granting your mouth any usable intelligence. You felt pressure in your brain, like a blood clot that would explode if you didn’t say something soon. 

In a surge of word vomit, you hurriedly blurted out, “IthinkI’minlovewithyou.” 

And that’s when things came to a screeching halt. So much for deflection. Smooth move, genius. 

Derek looked baffled as his shoulders elevated in tension, eyes the size of saucers. 

“You’re… what?” Derek brows furrowed, seemingly searching your face for any cues that you were joking or high. 

If only. Fuck it, nothing you say at this point could make this any worse. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” you enunciated carefully. “Or–it could be something else. I don’t know. I’ve never felt this way before and it’s really freaking me out. I didn’t know what to do, so I just avoided you. And the pack. And just all of it, in general,” you rambled, wringing your hands together. 

In response, Derek’s mouth parted slightly, his two front teeth peeking out like he was about to say something, but retreated again.

And then emerged the quintessential Derek frown. He was so adorable when he was mad, even when you were the reason.  

“Look, [y/n],” Derek coughed, continuing sternly. “You don’t have to… explain. It’s okay to be confused. I’m not–I’m not mad at you.”

It was comforting that he was also stuttering over his words. Meanwhile, you tried not to swoon at how young and boyish he sounded when he was frazzled. But why wasn’t he more freaked out. He should’ve at least been a little angry. It usually took less than this to set him off. 

“You should be mad!” you assured. “Get mad. I totally deserve it. For avoiding you, then lying about it. And for… being in love with you? Because I know what you’re thinking, these teenagers and their hormones,” you said gruffly, wincing as you accidentally did a poor impression of Derek. He raised his palm up incredulously, communicating that yes, you should indeed be embarrassed.

This was getting out of hand. You were all over the place and the more you tried to clarify, the more agitated Derek seemed to become. 

“This is ridiculous. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m too young for you and I need to stop kidding myself. I know that… I know,” your voice strained. You weren’t sure what burned more, your cheeks or the stinging behind your eyes. 

The truth is, you did have feelings for Derek. And it was rather terrifying. 

Because it would be obvious to anyone that Derek Hale was the perfect human specimen, with his tall, burly frame and Greek God jawline, armored in leather jackets and boots. That was your first impression when you met him. You, on the other hand, must have looked disastrous.

Before the pack and Derek, you were in a foster care system that left you abused and broken. When you decided to run away, you had no prospects or money. It was Derek that had found you, lost and dying in the woods. All you saw were sharp teeth and red eyes before you blacked out. 

When you’d woken up, you were warm and safe. He had given you the bite, but also so much more. He had taken you under his wing and polished you off, given you guidance and shelter. It took a while to trust him, but when you did, he promised to turn you from a scared runaway into a warrior. And he delivered. 

He introduced you to the pack, the family you never had. He taught you how to defend yourself, showing you strength you only dreamed about. But he also told you to use the bite to help other people, that power didn’t have to be destructive.

When you were human, you cowered away from people, fading into the background. You couldn’t trust anyone, couldn’t even trust yourself. But with Derek’s help, you learned to fight, speak your mind, and trust your instincts.

And therein lies the problem. Every time you were around Derek, every instinct in your body told you to jump his bones. You physically ached for him, your body buzzing with anxiety whenever you tried to stifle your need. 

It wasn’t even just the physical stuff. Underneath his tough exterior, Derek had a heart of gold. You’d seen enough cruelty to know that Derek was the opposite. He was the most generous person you’d ever known, sharing his home with a bunch of misfit teenagers, nursing lost puppies back to health. 

Even though Derek had rescued you, he’d never indicated that he was remotely attracted to you. He just regarded you as another annoying Beta through lectures and demands. Every once in a while, if you reached a new milestone, socially or physically, he would pull you into an awkward hug or stiffly pat your head while you tried to cough away your laughter.

It was obvious he would never return your feelings, so you spent an embarrassingly large portion of day figuring out ways to avoid Derek, which led to avoiding the pack because they were always together. But attendance was required at pack meetings, so you sat as far away from everyone as possible and looked down the whole time, only speaking when directly addressed. 

Everyone was bound to notice your strange behavior eventually. You just didn’t expect Derek to confront you about it directly, assuming he wasn’t into pack drama. 

Once again, you’d underestimated his capacity to care. 

And judging from the way he was clenching his fists and gazing a hole into his jeans, apparently he’d underestimated your capacity to complicate his life. 

The last thing you wanted to was to make things harder for Derek, but this confrontation resulted in exactly that.

“Look, let’s just pretend this didn’t happen, alright? Everyone has psychotic episodes sometimes,” you laughed nervously. “I won’t avoid you anymore–unless you want me too. I’ll leave you alone. Or, should I move out? Yeah, I’m going to move out. I’ll just go now, sorry.” 

Without even looking at Derek, you rushed to your door, wiping the dew that had gathered at the corner of your eyes. You reached for your doorknob, but staggered backwards as you felt a hand close over your wrist. You yelped and closed your eyes as you gracelessly collided into something solid.

Your arms tucked into your chest, instinctively protecting you from the impact. You opened your eyes when you felt a breath fan over your forehead, and realized that Derek had you cradled against his chest with an arm locked around your back.  

“Derek, what–” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he grunted as he slammed his lips to yours. 

Your went catatonic with shock, body rigid in Derek’s arms. 

You were in Derek’s arms. Derek Hale’s arms in that blue Henley shirt that felt so soft and warm against you and his mouth, full and moist, pressing against yours–

You were broken out of your trance when you felt Derek’s wet tongue graze your chapped bottom lip. Oh. 

You unfolded your arms and threw them around his neck, lunging forward to finally comply with his movements. Your tongue snaked out to meet his, eagerly applying pressure and then retreating again, battling then teasing. Derek signaled that your efforts were fruitful as he growled into the your mouth, the sound traveling from the back of his throat to your core. 

It was all dueling tongues and gnashing teeth. Of course this is how Derek would kiss, intense and ardent, almost clinical in the way he switched between squeezing your hip and biting your lip. 

And then oxygen was becoming an issue. Your body felt warm, too warm. Too much was happening too fast. You placed your palms against Derek’s chest, using all your strength to shove him away. 

He faltered backwards, a look of astonishment twisting his features. 

“What the hell?” he asked. He glared at you, but you could only focus on his chest as it heaved up and down, trying to calm your own breathing. 

“Are we doing this?” you asked, voice wavering with emotion. “Because you’re still my Alpha. And I’m still a teenager.”

“You’re 18,” Derek deadpanned.

“I’m still in high school!” Derek’s gaze softened as you raised your voice. 

You just couldn’t just rush into this. This was too important. You needed to know Derek’s intentions, because you didn’t just want a hurried groping session, a one night stand. You wanted all of it, all of him. Anything less would just cheapen your feelings. 

For once, you actually believed that you deserved better than a guy just using you and throwing you away. And this is what Derek taught you, to stand up for yourself. It’s not that you believed Derek would take advantage of you; you just needed some confirmation that this was real. 

“I know that,” Derek approached you again. You promptly straightened out your back, trying to hold your ground. 

But your voice betrayed you, folding under the weight of your next question, “Then, why did you kiss me?” 

“Because I don’t care anymore. I can’t keep pretending there’s nothing here,” he confessed, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, delicately caressing your forehead in his path. You leaned into his palm. 

“Oh… wait, then, what are you saying?”

Derek exhaled.

“I mean… I don’t know. It wasn’t always like this. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I always knew you were strong, I knew it the moment I found you. Then one day, something changed. You changed. You weren’t that same girl anymore. All of a sudden, you became this intelligent, self-possessed, beautiful young woman. And I couldn’t just keep patting your head and pretending things were still normal between us.”

You bit your lip and looked down. 

“So, it’s not just me, then? You felt it too?” you asked shyly, too afraid to look at him. 

Derek nudged your chin upwards with his knuckle, using his thumb to stroke your jaw. 

“Definitely.” He granted you a small smirk, his eyes twinkling. 

That was all the confirmation you needed as you charged forward to press your lips against his and snaked your arms around his waist, pulling him flush against you. Derek responded immediately by fisting your hair and cupping your jaw, enveloping you into his warm embrace. 

You felt around for the hem of his shirt, lifting the edge of the material. Derek pulled away as you raised it over his head and threw it aside. You panted while you took him in, admiring the smattering of dark chest hair that decorated the hard planes of his chest. The rest of him was smooth, aside from a treasure trail that disappeared behind his jeans.

In a surge of confidence, you decided you wanted him to see you too. You stepped back and lifted your tank top over your head, leaving you only in a red bra. 

You heard Derek inhale a sharp breath. You were slightly disappointed when he maintained eye contact with you, the veins in his neck straining against his skin, like he was still trying to be respectful. 

You walked towards him and grabbed his wrist, guiding his palm between the valley of your breasts. You eyelids fluttered shut as Derek’s hand slowly drifted down your torso, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just below your belly button. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admitted airily. “I finally have you.” 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Derek’s said, voice gruff with earnestness. No one had every spoken to you this way. 

You felt your chest flush as you scoffed, whispering, “Not as beautiful as you.” 

When you opened your eyes, Derek was looking at you somberly. He reached forward and brushed your hair away from your face and kissed you tenderly, much softer than before. You were pliant against him, curving and arching into him every time he moved. Your hands found his hips, squeezing the defined flesh before you started to unbuckle his belt. 

You palmed Derek over his boxers, his hips bucking involuntarily into your hand as he groaned into your mouth. Pulling away, you trailed your mouth over his jaw and neck, sponging open mouthed kisses down his chest and abdomen until you were on your knees, eye-level with his erection. 

“[y/n], you don’t have to,” Derek protested. He palmed your jaw upwards to look at you. You grinned up at him. 

“I know,” you said, slowly stroking him. “I’ve just always wanted to know what it’s like to suck off Derek Hale.” 

You gave no warning before you took the head of his shaft fully into your mouth. You watched Derek throw his head back and hiss. 

“Fuck, [y/n],” Derek cursed. He reached down and placed a comforting hand on the back of your head, his fingers combing through your hair. 

Any sort of encouragement was highly appreciated at this point, because even looking at Derek’s cock was intimidating. You weren’t exactly surprised by his considerable size, especially since his bulge always gave him away. But nothing you’d imagined could’ve prepared you for the real thing.

Noticing the prominent vein underneath his shaft, you lifted his cock vertically. You satisfied your urge to kiss him along the feature, trailing your mouth up to his tip. 

“What are you doing? Are you… fuck, that’s so hot,” Derek complimented, his tone gravelly. You smirked, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“You’re too pretty not to kiss,” you teased, but it was completely true. You licked a stripe up his shaft. Taking a deep breath, you stretched your mouth open as far as you could, taking in all of him. Or really, as much as possible, which was about half. You pumped the remaining portion, palm twisting up and down. 

“Oh my god, [y/n], where the fuck did you learn to do that?” 

You giggled. “What, this?” 

Gripping Derek’s thighs to anchor you forward, you bobbed your head back and forth, sucking him off while you continued to stroke him.

Derek’s responded with a fist tangling in your hair, guiding your head against him. 

It was turning you on so much that you were affecting Derek that you slipped a hand into your shorts, rubbing yourself over your underwear.

You reminded yourself to breathe through your nose while Derek filled you. Derek Hale was inside of you and nothing else could ever be this important. 

You couldn’t help but moan against Derek’s cock as you pleasured yourself, using your other hand to fondle his balls. Profanities tumbled incoherently from his lips as your moans vibrated against him.

You stopped suddenly when you felt him tug your hair backwards. Derek fell out of your mouth with a little pop! as you pulled away. Derek grasped your shoulders and pulled you up to stand. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna be able to hold back,” Derek warned, pressing his forehead against yours. He affectionately stroked your cheek with him thumb. 

You felt giddy, beaming with delight and a twinge of pride. 

“Who says I want you to hold back?” 

You could’ve sworn you saw Derek’s eyes flash red. 

“Trust me, sweetheart. I could make you regret those words.” Derek’s voice was rough and scratchy, the tone sending shivers up your spine. 

“You sure about that? Let’s find out,” you challenged, the thought of Derek dominating you jolting your senses. 

Derek softly chuckled. “Let’s save that for next time.” 

Next time. Derek wanted a next time. 

“Right now, I want you to undress.” 

Your mouth went dry at his command. There was that authority you loved so much. 

Hooking your thumbs into your waistband, you bent over and slid the material down your legs, stepping out of them. You were now clad only in a pair of black panties and a red bra. You passively regretted your choice to forego matching underwear. 

But Derek didn’t seem to mind as he blatantly stared at your legs, giving you a once over. He walked towards you, staring directly into your eyes. 

You whimpered when Derek’s thumb pressed to your bottom lip, folding the flesh under, the gesture prompting you to part your mouth. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered. He leaned forward to kiss you, slowly and softly. This was a sharp contrast to the way he suddenly swooped down, still attached to your mouth. You yelped at his sudden movements, arms wrapping intuitively around his neck. He grabbed the back of your thighs to lift you up into his arms. 

He held you to him as he started walking, an arm locked around your waist, the other grasping your neck to keep you in place. You were ridiculously turned on that he could carry you so effortlessly. 

Derek descended and you felt your knees touch the mattress. He sat down with you in his lap. You continued exploring his mouth, your hands trailing his back. You scorched his shoulder blades with scratches you knew would heal seconds later. 

Your actions elicited a grunt from Derek, who was also engrossed with your back. You felt the rough pads of his calloused fingertips knead forcefully, his aggression causing you to arch away in bliss. With a tweak of his fingers, you felt him undo your bra. 

You broke away, observing Derek while you nervously slid your bra straps down your arms, your hands shaking. Derek’s tongue flicked out against his lips as he admired you, his immediate reaction easing your worries. He wasted no time, littering kisses down your chest, palming your breasts. You threw your head back and moaned.

“You’re so perfect, sweetheart,” Derek rasped as he nuzzled your neck. You felt over-stimulated with Derek rubbing you and kissing you simultaneously. Needing to relieve tension, you involuntarily started grinding on Derek’s lap, pressing your panty-covered sex over Derek’s thick erection. 

You moved together, Derek guiding you back and forth with his hands on your ass and lips on your collarbone. You clung to his broad shoulders for support. 

When Derek suddenly bit down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, you gasped in pain and surprise. You were already healing. The gesture actually felt intimate and romantic instead of violent, a throwback to the first bite Derek ever gave you. Even now, when you were tangled in his limbs, he seemed afraid that you would slip away. 

“Mine,” he whispered into your neck.

He was trying to mark you. 

“All yours, always been,” you promised. 

You burrowed your face into his neck, returning his affection by lapping at his skin, not feeling brave enough to bite your Alpha. 

“Please, Derek,” you pleaded, trying to communicate your desire. 

“Shh,” he murmured. “Don’t worry, I got you.” 

Giving your ass one final squeeze, he slid his fingers into your underwear, spreading your wetness along your slit. In response, you dug your fingernails into his shoulders as you desperately rode his hand, your desire becoming frantic. 

Suddenly, he pulled his hand away. You whimpered at the loss of contact, but then cried out when Derek slipped your panties to the side and entered you in one swift motion. 

“Fuck!” you exclaimed as Derek filled you to the hilt. After letting you adjust, he moved slowly, holding onto your hips as he glided in and out. You felt his cock stretch your walls, clenching your thighs every time his tip grazed your g-spot. Derek was everywhere, around you and inside you. 

His hands were restless, alternating between gripping your hips and tugging at your hair. His teeth grazing against your nipple left you a squirming mess above him. You cradled his face and leaned forward to kiss him. Arching your back, you gave your hips leeway to meet Derek’s movements. 

“That’s it, baby. Ride me,” Derek urged.     

His command rang in your ears. It thrilled you that Derek was giving you control.

You braced some of your weight on your knees, ascending from Derek’s lap. Using his shoulder’s for leverage, you raised yourself just until you reached his tip, then slammed your hips back down. You picked up your pace, trying to match Derek’s earlier momentum.

“Is this how you want me?”

Derek growled his approval.

His encouragement made you feel sexy and wanted even in your fervid state. You could hear the distinct slap of your ass against Derek’s thighs reverberate through the expanse of your bedroom. The assault from Derek’s mouth left your chest decorated with red bruises. Your breasts bounced in rhythm with your exertions.

One of Derek’s hands gripped the flesh of your ass. The other reached behind you to clamp down on your shoulder, helping you descend down his enlarged shaft.

“Are you close to coming?” he asked. He reasoned with you so calmly that you were actually embarrassed by just how close you were. You felt a knot tighten just below your stomach and you knew you would burst soon.

You couldn’t even formulate an coherent response, resorting to just emphatically nodding your head.

He relinquished his hold, reaching down to rub your clit. His rough fingertips fervently moved against your sensitive nub, the stimulation breaking your rhythm. Derek took over again as he wrapped an arm around your waist to hold up your thrashing form as he pounded into you.

“Derek… Derek!”

You cried out as your walls contracted, your eyes screwing shut as you reached your orgasm. A few erratic pumps later, Derek was joining you at your peak. You climaxed together, him groaning into your chest while you hung on to his shoulders. 

Your body shook as you came down from your high, your head hung low on Derek’s shoulder. Your body felt so numb, you couldn’t even figure out where you ended and he began. Your sweat, breath, even skin seemed to melt together. Derek rocked you back and forth in his lap, combing his fingers through your hair and cooing mantras of “shhh” and “I’m here, baby” into your ear.

Derek did what he always does–he took care of you.

“So,” you mumbled, finally breaking the silence. “That just happened.”

Derek snorted. 

“Hey, [y/n]?” 

“Hmm?” 

You sat up to look at Derek. 

“I’m in love with you, too.” 

You merely blinked at Derek’s admission, completely caught off guard. Were you still delirious from your orgasm or did Derek Hale just say he loves you? 

What?” 

“You heard me,” Derek quipped, avoiding your gaze, opting instead to fiddle with a strand of your hair.

“But… you know you don’t have to say that, right?” you nudged his face to look at you. “I know we just had sex, but I didn’t put out to force you into saying ‘I love you’ back. Like I said, I don’t even know for sure if I love you–”

“That’s fine,” Derek interrupted you, cracking a smile. “Really, it’s okay. I still love you. And you can say it back when you’re ready. I can wait for that.”

“Really?” you asked shyly. 

“Of course,” he rolled your eyes, his attitude evoking a giggle from you. 

“Aww, what a sweet Alpha,” you playfully taunted as you ruffled his hair. 

Derek immediately stiffened, his hand lashing to grab your wrist mid-ruffle. 

“You know what? I take it back,” Derek heckled, smirking. “I don’t love you.” 

Your jaw dropped at his quip. You were sitting in Derek Hale’s lap, naked, while he made flirty banter. You faced murderous supernatural creatures on a daily basis and this was the most bizarre moment of your life.    

“Is that so?” You squinted your eyes at him. “Well then, I’ll just have to find myself new man. Actually, I think Scott just came home, and since he’s the true Alpha–”

Derek suddenly grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you forward, pressing his lips to yours in an impassioned kiss. You smiled against his mouth, slightly entertained by his possessive nature. Even though your favorite werewolf couldn’t take a joke, you wouldn’t change a thing. 

Derek Hale was finally yours.  

3

don’t talk like one of them. you’re not! even if you’d like to be. to them, you’re just a freak, like me! they need you right now, but when they don’t, they’ll cast you out, like a leper! you see, their morals, their code, it’s a bad joke. dropped at the first sign of trouble. they’re only as good as the world allows them to be. i’ll show you. when the chips are down, these… these civilized people, they’ll eat each other. see, i’m not a monster. i’m just ahead of the curve.

the dark knight (2008)

anti culture is so funny to me bc like yeah my dudes i too have ships that i fucking loathe but watch as i devote approximately none of my attention to them and blacklist the tags and don’t follow ppl and occasionally block ppl who post it. wow! don’t have to see it anymore! it’s like magic

meanwhile you got ppl with blog names like reylokilledmypetrabbit crying and screaming for months on end about how much they hate reylo but u know that shit’s a sideblog and they’ll delete it at the first sign of trouble it’s so pathetic

fuck okay so like neil’s character development is so important, his burying of nathaniel wesninski and becoming neil josten is so so important. it’s not him burying his past, it’s him looking at his past and realizing he simply doesn’t want to be that person anymore. he doesn’t want to be isolated and alone and simply surviving without living. he doesn’t want to be nathaniel wesninski, son of the butcher, he chose to be neil josten, chose to be tied to people and it’s such a fundamental part of his character development. he wants to be neil josten. he wants to stay with the foxes, even when he knew he shouldn’t. he wants to go back for andrew in a zombie apocalypse, the boy who ran, the boy who was always someone else and no one at all, the boy fit his entire life into a duffle bag and left at the first sign of trouble, wants to stay.

jbretton  asked:

Hello! What would the types be like in a survival (apocalypse situation)? Like a walking dead-esque situation.

You probably want a serious response but… eh. Stereotypes for the win.

INTJ: saw it coming. Holed up in a bunker. Forgot to buy food. Dies of starvation.

ENTJ: foresaw the likely outcome, tried to turn a profit off the zombie hordes. Worked for six months and then the zombies turned on them in the boardroom.

INFJ: saw it coming. Killed trying to save their friends because they are hopeless with flame throwers and set themselves on fire.

ENFJ: foresaw the impending pattern, tried to unsuccessfully negotiate a 100 year peace with the zombies. Died because zombies do not feel humans are equal to them and thought ENFJ brain tasted good.

INTP: thought it might be coming, has been working on a cure for the last five years. Dies five seconds away from finding it, when the zombies finally penetrate the lab’s outer doors.

ENTP: becomes heavily involved in rescuing people and in keeping their spirits up through random jokes and sarcasm, but dies falling off a building into a mass of zombies because that jump was like, way further than I thought, man.

INFP: reluctant to embrace this new reality because it represents ‘group think’ behaviors; zombies cannot possibly be mindless drones! Wises up and joins the resistance, only to die because they failed to tabulate how many zombies might be in that abandoned pizza place they used to love.

ENFP: holds to an idealistic belief they can just outlive it, the zombies will self-implode, becomes part of the rescue party but dies when attacked by a super cute zombie kitten that seemed ‘harmless.’

ISTJ: stubbornly refuses to believe in zombie apocalypse until they see their first brain-eater, then becomes totally freaked out about the future and impending disaster and dives into their safety bunker, stocked with food. Regulates how much food is allowed per day. Dies when zombie beaver digs through the wall.

ESTJ: becomes super pro-active at the first sign of trouble and strong-arms family to a remote island free of zombies. Underestimates how upset teenage daughter is. Dies when she allows her former-human/now-zombie boyfriend to visit.

ISFJ: becomes super freaked out due to endless zombie stories read in high school and is caught up in ‘saving their family.’ Dies trying to save best friend, who is now a zombie, because ‘she’s a good sort, really, not like them.’

ESFJ: appoints self the official den-mother of the ‘rescued’ people, making sure all their needs are met. Dies after organizing a group raid to a local WalMart to pick up extra supplies.

ISTP: becomes the toughest bad-ass on the block, and lives the longest due to ruthless adaptation, but ultimately dies because they got caught in a cross-fire and their idiot friends locked the door behind them.

ESTP: manages to save 60 people but dies because they thought taking on the zombies bare-handed and kicking the living hell out of them was a good solution when zombies unexpectedly swarmed the truck.

ISFP: manages to survive alone for months by staying in abandoned buildings and beating zombies one on one with a baseball bat, but dies when they run out of gas in a stolen car 4 miles from the safe zone.

ESFP: kicks some serious zombie ass but sacrifices self to ensure friends survive.

- ENFP Mod

Loki x Reader: Not A Lady

Note: My first go at this so let me know what you think!

Words: 2,611


There was nothing you hated more than being summoned but this was a meeting that you knew you’d be foolish to miss. When you’d woken up, you’d checked your phone and seen ten miscalls all from the same - blocked - number. Grudgingly, barely awake or aware of the world, you’d rung back and then spent an hour on hold. When you finally got through, you were told in the shortest tone to meet the others at the Tower for an emergency meeting.

Unfortunately, whilst the you could see the obnoxiously large tower for miles around, actually getting anywhere near it always presented a challenge. Clearly this meeting had not been kept a secret for hoards of people surrounded the building, blocking the streets all around. You pushed and shoved your way through, feeling immensely grateful that you were just another everyday human rather than one of the famous Avengers. You suspected that they’d have had even more trouble making their way in than you.

Finally reaching your destination, you nodded at the receptionist who immediately recognised you. She had your ID badge ready by the time you’d reached the desk and told you, “They’re all up there, even Thor. Whatever is going on, it must be big for him to come back.”

               "Thanks for the warning, Jan,“ you said, rubbing your eyes. You had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be your day. You clipped the badge on to your blazer pocket and looked around the entrance hallway for a clock. "How long have they been waiting?”

She gave you a look that told you that you really didn’t want to know. With a sigh, you thanked her and headed for the lift. As you ascended, you found your palms were getting sweaty. It had been years since you’d been here last and that hadn’t ended well. You could barely believe you were scared to see them again; you’d faced down far worse than the Avengers and lived. Surely this would be no worse…

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the dreaded communist agenda

sunday: destroy every government, company, and landlord that’s killing, controlling, and exploiting us.

monday: return all land, resources, and products of labor to the people from whom they were stolen.

tuesday: undo the damage we’ve done to the planet and transition to a sustainable lifestyle.

wednesday: destroy all social categories (i.e. gender, race) and institutions (i.e. colonialism, heteropatriarchy) that mark us for and subject us to exploitation, oppression, and death.

thursday: equip the people with the knowledge and skills they need to avoid the reproduction of oppressive social structures and create beneficial ones.

friday: tend to our wounded, mourn the dead, make amends, expel the traitorous. foster altruism and mutual respect.

saturday: devise new technologies and relations, or recover old ones, that improve the quality of every facet of life.

… the joke is that i’m not sanitizing it to attract half-hearted converts who jump ship at the first sign of trouble.

700 Celebration (7/100)

Request: Anonymous: “62 and 66 Steve Rogers!”

62. “Do you ever get tired of being perfect?”

66. “That was ONE time!”

A/N: I’m going to start adding the tag list to these, since they’re definitely not drabbles at this point. I don’t know what this gif is; I couldn’t find a good one for this.

Originally posted by susanneleist

You had been cooped up in your room for the better part of two days. You weren’t sick, injured, exhausted, or grieving. You were avoiding someone.

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“Don’t talk like one of them, you’re not! even if you’d like to be, to them you’re just a freak like me. They need you right now, but when they don’t they’ll cast you out, like a leper. See? their morals, their code, it’s a bad joke, dropped at the first sign of trouble, they’re only as good as the world allows them to be, I’ll show you, when the chips are down, these.. these civilized people? They’ll eat each other. See?
I’m not a monster, I’m just ahead of the curve.”

- The Joker

4

“You see, their morals, their code, it’s a bad joke–dropped at the first sign of trouble.  They’re only as good as the world allows them to be.  I’ll show you. When the chips are down, these ‘civilized’ people…they’ll eat each other.”

-The Joker, “The Dark Knight”    

anonymous asked:

what the fuck your andriel-meeting-while-in-hs au has me fucked up. i love it. amazing. you considered turning it into more than that one drabble then know that i would def read it.

anon: 10/10 would be down for more of that Jake au!!!

anon: Ohmygod please make that a thing

soooooo apparently y’all liked it? for those curious, here’s part 1, and there is at least one more scene in my head if y’all want it

Of all the things that Andrew has been forced to give up and change about himself, he’s refused to stop smoking, and he’s refused to stop wearing his armbands. He’s not giving up his nicotine, and no one is seeing his scars.

“Jake” - that’s not his real name, Andrew has learned, and his current name is Noah - doesn’t seem to mind the smoking, though it’s obvious that his mother has tried to quit and is bitter at Andrew for making that worse. Good. Fuck her.

“Antagonizing her isn’t going to help anything,” Jake says, watching Andrew from the corner of his eye as they wait on the sidewalk for “Brenda” to get them from school. 

Andrew drags from his cigarette. He doesn’t care. She hasn’t been welcoming to him since he joined in their little runaway tag-team. Trust must be hard for her, not that he has any pity for a woman who packed up and ran at the first sign of trouble. 

Jake sighs. “You find it amusing, don’t you?”

“Nothing else to entertain me,” Andrew says. He doesn’t want it to sound meaningful, but it does, and Jake isn’t stupid, even when he’s pretending to be.

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Headcanon that Todoroki rarely get sick. When he did, he always tried to hide it and slept it away. But not this time. (This actually became a full fledged fic so you can read it here on ao3 or right below)

‘Todoroki-kun, aren’t you cold?’

'No.’


'Man, aren’t you hot in there?’

'No.’


When class 1A managed to have a look inside Todoroki’s wardrobe, they were in for a surprise.

There were nothing but shirts and trousers of different colors. One or two light blue jackets dotted on the left side but that was it.

Clothes suitable for an autumn morning stroll in the park. Hardly optimal choices for the blistering hot summer or biting cold winter.

Todoroki explained between stifled yawns and subtle glances to the futon that he could regulate his own body temperature, therefore had no need for seasonal clothing before ushering them out so he could sleep.

Class 1A all agreed on one thing when they gathered back down the communal area.

Todoroki’s quirk was the coolest!


Todoroki found himself boxed on his left side on movie nights during winter time and on his right side during summer classes though it was a mad dash to be the first to reach his right side. The unlucky ones that couldn’t be the first settled for ice-creams and cold bottled water, giving the lucky one and Todoroki, who was not sweating a drop, sting eyes.

So when Hagakure, the lucky one of the day sitting with her back to Todoroki’s right side, commented on how warm his right side was, it garnered the attention of everyone in class.

Todoroki’s control over his quirk was uncanny.

Between finding a five-leaf clover and Todoroki messing up the control of his quirk, you have a far better chance of finding a field of five-leaf clovers.

A vague ‘Sorry’ came from Todoroki and Hagukure’s sigh of contentment sent the rest of the class back into an envious mob.

That was the first sign of trouble they failed to notice.


‘Midoriya-san, do you know where Todoroki-san is?’ Yaoyorozu’s clear voice made him jump in his seat and consequently drew a diagonal line over his hero costume sketch.

‘Uhm, no?’ He hurriedly closed the notebook. Not that he didn’t want her to see, he was just uncomfortable with showing his hero notebook to anyone other than Uraraka and Ida. He flustered a little when she raised an eyebrow but steeled his nerves to ask. ‘Why do you ask?’

Why ask me?

‘Out of everyone, you are closest to him so I thought you would know,’ Yaoyoruzu answered his unasked question first. ‘It’s rare to see him miss a class.’ She mumbled mostly to herself but Izuku caught it any way and had to frown.

‘I don’t know. Sorry.’ Izuku offered a helpless smile even as he dissolved into a muttering tirade. It was true. Todoroki was probably the most diligent when it came to classwork, just right after Iida. No one could compete with Iida when it came to school work any way, the guy was on a different level. It was unusual rather than rare for Todoroki to skip class, especially hero class. There must be something serious enough, something more important than training to keep him occupied. But what could that possibly be? He was kidnapped? Possible but a little far-fetched considering they all were staying at UA dorm with over-the-top securities. Then he must not be at the dorm then. If so where could he be? No, that’s not true, Izuku backtracked. He definitely saw Todoroki this morning in the kitchen area with a glass of water before his attention was drawn back to Uraraka’s floating an inch above the floor omelette.

Sometime during his mutter, Yaoyoruzu must have left, but he was too occupied to paid her any attention.


His mind whirred with different scenarios as he hastily jogged back to the dorm. Next class was modern literature and also the last for the day so he wouldn’t be in any serious trouble. Todoroki was more of a concern now.

Something happened to his family? Maybe it was his mother? Or Endeavor? Something pissed his father off enough for him to come to UA dorm to drag his son back home to train until all his bones were broken and blisters dotted his body? Oh god no please let it not be Endeavor. Todoroki’s relationship with his father might be more mutual respect than outright hatred now but who knows what might happen with Endeavor’s temperament.

Please let it not be Endeavor.

Please not Endeavor.

Anyone but Endeavor.

Please not Endeavor!

Todoroki-kun!’ Izuku swung the door to the dorm open with enough force to send the reinforced quadruple-layered glass rattling against the wall and called out as loud as his voice permitted.

Silence greeted him. Cold that had nothing to do with Todoroki’s quirk slowly wrapped around his heart.

Izuku bolted to Todoroki’s room. The door was unlocked but no signs of a break in could be seen. Todoroki was nowhere to be seen. Scouting every floor also gained no result of his whereabouts.

The kitchen area was empty as well. Izuku checked every cupboards and cabinets, even in the fridge and under the dining table.

He found himself back in the common room and was searching in All Might’s contact in his phone with shaking fingers when an out of place sound, too quiet to be heard over the pounding of his heart, caught his attention.

Izuku took a deep breath to calm his frantically beating heart and listened.

There it was. A gasp, then a second later, a soft, pained 'no’.

It was coming from the gap between the sofa and the wall.

Izuku carefully made his way over. 'Todoroki-kun…?’ He hesitantly said, not wanting to spook his friend. His thought started to drift into the lines of why Todoroki was hiding behind a sofa for he was definitely hiding from something.

All he got in response was a muffled cry of pain.

The cold around his heart that had started to melt seconds ago was returning faster and planting its root deeper.

Izuku had never, ever, heard Todoroki made such a pitiful noise.

Something was seriously wrong.

He peeked through the gap and found Todoroki sitting with his back against the wall, legs drawn up and head resting on the knees.

It looked like he was sleeping but his breath was coming out in short gasps, a mixture of steam and hot breath. A sheen of perspiration covered his face and neck.

Izuku carefully sneaked in a hand to feel his temperature and had to smother an alarm yelp.

His forehead was as hot as scalding water, even his right side felt as hot as a car left under the summer sun for hours. Had Todoroki been hiding his fever for days? Not to mention he even came to class yesterday! A fever as severe as this didn’t just develop overnight!

Todoroki shied away from his touch and tried to scoot further away but ended up toppling over.

Without fanfare, Izuku pushed the sofa away and kneeled down besides his friend.

'Come on, Todoroki-kun, we need to get you to Recover Girl.’ He said, swinging an arm around Todoroki to support him up, tears gathering in his eyes of fear and frustration.

Todoroki put up a pitiful fight, ice trying to form before immediately melting away and steaming up. 'No…, please…., stop…’ He mumbled, prying weakly at Izuku’s hold.

'Todoroki-kun, please, let me help!’ Izuku all but begged, desperately adding more force to his hold to still his squirming friend.

'No…, no…’ Todoroki shook his head weakly. 'Stop… Please…. Father…’

Izuku’s hold on his tears faltered and that was all it took for him to cry now. Todoroki was too delirious to tell the difference between reality and dreamscape. For now, he was not at the US dorm anymore but back to the horror and fear his childhood held.

'You are not with your father, Todoroki-kun. You are safe.’ Izuku bit back a choked sob and said forcefully. That was the point he needed to drive home first. 'I’m Midoriya Izuku. And you are going to get better, okay? Please, please, just let me help.’ Izuku rocked them from side to side, not knowing anything better to help.

Todoroki’s movements quietened down. He finally cracked open an eye, the blue one, to blearily blink at Izuku. The intelligence it usually held now lost to the haze of sickness and delirium.

It took Todoroki three minutes to recognize him.

'Mi-dori-ya-?’ He said brokenly, gasping for air when he finished.

'Yeah, it’s me.’ Izuku smiled encouragingly through his tears. 'I'n going to take you to the infirmary now, okay?’

Todoroki bobbed his head in consent and Izuku flew into action. He had Todoroki in piggy back style and was out of the dorm in a matter of seconds. His friend felt like a sack of burning coal on his back, incoherent mumble hot against his right cheek.

Todoroki was prideful and for him to accept help with no deliberation; it spoke volume how severe his fever was. Izuku just hoped he hadn’t arrived too late.

His footsteps dented the ground.


The news about Todoroki staying in the hospital was quick to spread around class.

Izuku found himself the center of worried questions and a crying Hagakure. Under any other circumstances, he would be dying of shame right on the spot. Right now he was just too tired to care.

'And I asked him to cool down.’ Hagakure cried in earnest, wet sobs echoing the solemn room.

'There, there Hagakure-chan.’ Mina padded her back understandingly, wiping away the tears with a tissue. 'We can all visit him tomorrow.’ She added brightly.

'About that-’ Izuku shifted in his spot uncomfortably all eyes fell on him. ‘-We can’t.’

His statement was met with varying degree of bewilderment.

'What do you mean by that, Midoriya-kun?’ Iida asked, doing that small chopping hand motion that told how nervous he was.

'Patient request,’ Recover Girl had said when Midoriya tried to step back in after she finished her treatment half an hour after he brought Todoroki in.

'He needs as much rest as he can, so I think it’s best that we not disturb him.’ He half-lied, twisting his scarred hands.

'You are absolutely right, Deku-kun.’ Uraraka accepted his explanation easily. ‘Oh, I know!’ She exclaimed for the whole class to hear. 'Let’s organize a welcoming party when Todoroki-kun is released from the hospital!’

Her suggestion was met with a round of delighted 'Yes’ and a watery one from Hagakure.

As the girls moved away to start on their planning, Kirishima released a forlorn sigh.

'Even our strongest can get a fever.’

'That is exactly why we need to dress for the season and pay attention to our health!’ Iida pronounced with wider, more prominent arm chops. 'Summer is the season of fever and heatstroke. It is important that we consume enough water to stay hydrated. I suggest we take turn-’

No one was actually listening to Iida anymore since they were all busy staring at each other in muted realization.

'Speaking of 'dress for the season’, do you remember the state of Todoroki’s wardrobe?’ Kaminari asked everyone on a whole, voicing their exact same thought.


Two days later, Shouto was cleared to return to the dorm with instruction to drink a cup of water every hour and lay off of exercising for at least a week. As if he would listen.

He could have left the day before but a disapproving scolding from Recovery Girl convinced him to obey just so he wouldn’t go deaf in the ears.

The dorm was devoid of anyone’s presence, which was strange considered it being a Friday night.

Maybe they all needed to be somewhere else. Definitely not a villain though, Shouto would have been the first to know. Endeavor made it his life purpose to drag Shouto to every villain crime scene to show him how stupid he had been for refusing to use his left side.

As he waited for the kettle to boil, laughter and talking started to fill the hall way and they all stopped dead at the sight of him leaning against the countertop in the kitchen.

Asui was the first to break the silence.

'Are you feeling well, Todoroki-chan, ribbit?’

'Yes, a bit dizzy but I am better now.’ He opened the top right cabinet where he stashed his tea leaves. 'Thank you for asking.’

'Oh no, you need to rest more Todoroki-kun!’ Uraraka said, unreasonably happy that he needed to look to make sure his hearing was not deceiving him.

Why was she happy at the fact that he needed more rest?

And it seemed she was not the only one. All the girls looked incredibly happy and delighted.

Something was definitely going on and he was not privy to it.

'Come now Ice Prince, let’s get you back to your room.’ Hagakure and Mina sudden appearance at his back did not startled him at all. Not at all.

'Ice Prince?’ He echoed, so caught of guard that the two girls could push him up five flights of stairs and into his room easily.

'Well then, off to bed with you.’ Mina sang happily, skipping away down the stairs.

'Wait, I still need to get the tea-’ Shouto added as his wit came back to him.

'No worries, someone will bring it up for you!’ Mina called out from the stairs as the sound of her steps faded away.

It took him a minute to realize he only heard one set of footstep moving away while there had been two that escorted him up.

'Can I help you with anything, Hagakure-san?’ He directed his gaze to the half closed door where he could see a flash of brown shorts in mid-air.

'Uhm.’ She pushed the door open wider and stepped in, fully facing him. 'I’m very sorry that I asked you to use your quirk that day.’ She sounded guilty and judging from the way her clothes move, she must be bowing.

Shouto’s mind took a while to remember what she was referring to. His brain was irritatingly slow tonight.

Ah. That. Frankly, he had forgotten that that had taken place.

'It’s alright. I didn’t mind. You are not at fault.’ He was awful at understanding emotions and even worse at displaying them. He hoped he conveyed his forgiveness well enough this time.

'You sure?’ She asked hesitantly, rising up from the half-bow with what would have been a quizzical look if she had not been invisible.

'Yes.’

'Oh. Uhm, thank you.’ Her socks and shoes twitched around. A sign of nervousness. 'I’ll leave you to your rest, Todoroki-kun.’ She closed the door to his room and quickly walked away.

Shouto stared at the door for a moment then made a beeline for the table, taking out assorted notebooks and pens.

He shook his head a little to clear away the dark spots from his eyes.

He truly hadn’t gotten back to full health.

No matter. As long as he didn’t do anything physically exerting, he should be fine. And catching up on schoolwork could hardly be considered physical activity.


An hour and a half later, Shouto was forced to put down his pen as words swam around his field of vision.

He had had fever a few times before but never this terrible. Most of the time he just slept them away. He tried to did the same for this but apparently it had not work.

Maybe a cup of tea would help, he thought as the world turned topsy turvy as he stood up. Tea would be very appreciated now.

He padded over to his wardrobe to look for a pair of more comfortable indoor slippers.

And had to close it at the sight that greeted him.

Had the fever gotten to his brain?

No, not plausible.  

But he just saw some eye-watering neon green. In his own wardrobe. And he absolutely despised everything with color that bright and revulsive and made sure to never own a single piece of clothing in that color.

Shoutouts hesitantly opened it again, ice ready to freeze whoever was hiding in his wardrobe.

No one was inside but that did nothing to explain the state his wardrobe was in.

It was definitely more rainbow-y than the last time he checked. And with more variety of garments.

He spied black leather jacket, mustard insulated trousers, some plain looking jeans shorts, hoodies, sweaters, polo shirts, and even a rather expensive looking woollen long coat. The neon green belonged to a pair of mittens. All with tags attached but the price had been removed.

Most certainly not the work of his stupid old man.

It could have been Fuyumi but she knew better than to get him anything of bright colors.

That left only one other person, and knowing him, he would be down in the front yard training, on the way to the kitchen.

Perfect. He could get his tea and then started interrogating.

Someone had some explaining to do.


‘He is coming!’

‘What!? No, not yet. I’m not finished!’

‘Quickly, he’s on the first set of stairs!’

‘Just shove it in the cabinet or something!’

‘Eeeehhhh!?’

‘Fucking leave it and hide behind the fucking chair!’

‘Ouch, unharden your elbow, you’re poking my ribs!’

‘Sorry.’

‘Why do I keep attracting small pieces of paper?

‘Ah, my bad.’

‘Everyone, remain quiet!’

‘You are the only one being noisy, ribbit


The kitchen was dark when Shouto came in but he could hear muffled sound coming from somewhere. Probably they were watching horror film and needed all the darkness they could have.

He flipped the switch and suddenly he was showered in light, sound and confetti. So much that his brain could not process anything and the first thing that came out of his mouth was ‘I need my tea.’

Surprised snorts appeared amidst the gathering of his classmates and he soon found himself nudged, pulled and sat down on the central sofa with blanket draped over his shoulders and a hot cup of tea in his hands.

He took a sip to bring his mind back into operation.

Banners saying things like ‘Get well soon’, ‘Welcome back!’ hung from the ceiling across the floor-to-ceiling glass window. Food and drinks covered every available space of the small coffee table and Shouto suspected that there were a lot more waiting in the connected kitchen and maybe even Satou’s room.

It didn’t escape his attention that all the food and drinks were rather very Japanese and heavily focused on cold soba and tea.

He looked around, noting his classmates’ eager faces and guessed it was time he put his two cents in.

‘It’s nice. Whatever for?’

Collective exasperated sigh made Shouto wanted to retract his words, but knowing his socially-stunted self, his second attempt would only be catastrophic so he kept quiet.

‘Well it’s a get well party. For you.’ Sero explained from his perch on the back of the sofa, taking the initiative.

‘I get that but why?’ Shouto hardly considered his wellbeing the reason, in and of itself, for a celebration.

‘Just fucking get it over with, you half-and-half bastard!’ Bakugou (his presence here was a surprise to Shouto) kicked out a chair from the kitchen table and explosively sat down, ignoring others’ disapproving stares.

‘What Kacchan was trying to say is that we are very glad that you are well again, Todoroki-kun.’ Midoriya chimed in hastily, doing damage control before things got out of hand and dissolved into quirk fight.

Shouto was at a loss for word. What should he say to that?

‘Uhm, thank you?’ It came out more of a question than an expression of gratitude but Midoriya beamed anyway.

‘Let’s eat everyone.’ He announced happily, diving for two mochis right off the bait and dropped one into Shouto’s cupped hands while biting into the other, coughing as he got too much powder in his airway.


The rest of the night passed by in a blur. Shouto vaguely remembered staring in silent wonder as Bakugou dumped spoonful after spoonful of shichimi into his bowl of soba, all the while spitting curses at Kirishima.

He himself got offered a lot of food, his portions were always noticeably larger than everyone else.

As the night dwindled down into small talks and desserts, Shouto slunk away from the crowd to make himself another cup of tea. He passed Midoriya and tapped him on the shoulder. Midoriya took the cue and followed him into the back yard.

It was a pleasant night as far as summer nights went. The moon was still high up, casting silver light on the grass.

‘You want to talk, Todoroki-kun?’ Midoriya ventured tentatively from behind him.

‘All this.’ He shrugged one shoulder in the direction of the brightly lit communal room, not bothering to face Midoriya fully. ‘Did you plan all this?’

‘Ah, no. Everyone just sort of wants to throw you a party. We plan it together.’

‘I see. And the wardrobe?’ Shouto didn’t need to turn around to know that Midoriya’s face had turned bright red.

‘That was Kirishima-kun’s idea. But we all pitched in so don’t be mad at him!’ Frantic hand waving. ‘I tried to tell them not to take anything too brightly colored but they all thought it was a good chance to reinvent your wardrobe. It was such a terrible idea. And we went into your room without your permission. Oh god, we went into your room without permission! Your room! Without permission! I’m so sorry, Todoroki-kun! I am terribly-‘

‘Midoriya.’ Shouto cut in sharply and turned to face the other boy. He waited until Midoriya looked up from his bow and injected every bit of sincerity into his next words. ‘Thank you.’

Thank you for helping me.

Thank you for not telling everyone.  

Thank you for respecting my wish.

Thank you for caring.

Midoriya straightened from his bow and smiled brilliantly at him.

‘You are very welcome, Todoroki-kun.’

He hesitantly returned the smile with the upturn of his lips and marched back inside, Midoriya staying in the same pace as him.


’Should we wake him up?’

’Nah, let him sleep.’

‘But it’s going to be uncomfortable as hell.’

‘No worries, I’ve got this. You two, push the sofa over here. Quietly.’

‘I’m grabbing a pillow from my room.’

‘Good idea.’

‘There, that should do it.’

‘Are we going to leave him alone down here?’

‘No way! We’re staying here and watching movies till dawn. Everyone with me?’

‘Ayee!’

‘So we should do some quick clean up then.

‘Here, let me help.’

‘Bakugou, move over if you’re not gonna help.’

‘HUH? WHO THE FUCK Y-UMPH UMPH.’

Rustle from the central sofa had them hold their breath but Todoroki just snuggled deeper into his blanket.

‘Thank you Sero.’

‘No prob.’

‘Walk quietly everyone. We don’t want to wake him up.’

My headcanon collection

8

Don’t talk like one of them. You’re not! Even if you’d like to be. To them, you’re just a freak, like me! They need you right now, but when they don’t, they’ll cast you out, like a leper! You see, their morals, their code, it’s a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They’re only as good as the world allows them to be. I’ll show you. When the chips are down, these… these civilized people, they’ll eat each other. See, I’m not a monster. I’m just ahead of the curve.