can I request some Jean headcanons?? just lil facts abt my son pls ? thank u for ur time 💋
OKAY this got away from me bye
jean moreau is very tall and carries himself with put-on pride that bled over from his time with the ravens. if he ever hunched over in riko’s presence, well - riko is dead, and no one is around to bring it up anymore
despite popular belief, he wears black because it suits his image, not because it’s habit. it’s one thing he and andrew minyard share, not that either of them recognise that or would react well if someone pointed it out
his favourite colours are a deep forest green and silver-grey, which also sneak into his wardrobe in places (jumpers, shirts, ties, and the silver spinner ring renee gifts him halfway through his second month in california)
he’s utterly unselfconscious about his scars, and the trojans learn very fucking quickly to never bring them up because he’ll snarl at them for prying. if they happen to look pitying, he’ll break something of theirs. like their face
the first few months, he spends a lot of time thinking he’s dead because he can’t quite believe it, even having been to the funeral. riko’s a ghost he can’t shake, haunting him during the day out of the corner of his eye in every flash of black, sometimes seeping into his dreams at night to torture him all over again
coach rhemann picks him up from the airport when he first arrives, and they have a very quiet week together where jean reads so much rhemann makes a joke about him being an academic rather than an athlete. jean doesn’t laugh, but rhemann didn’t expect him to
(he and his new head coach end up having a good relationship, once they’re over the first rough patches. jean was worried he wouldn’t be able to respect a man who hadn’t produced a champs-winning team in his tenure, the same way he thought he’d feel about the team itself, but instead he ends up respecting rhemann for his brisk kindness and refusal to give in to jean’s initial attitude)
(rhemann, quietly, thinks the first month that he’ll have to make alternative arrangements for jean, that he’ll never be a good fit for the team. fortunately, the trojans step in to stop that from happening)
jean and jeremy met long before jeremy flew out with rhemann to Palmetto to sign their newest player, but when jeremy arrives back on campus it’s like they’re meeting for the first time all over again. jeremy is really excited to see him. jeremy is really excited about everything, apparently.
laila and alvarez are the next arrivals. laila is critical of jean from the get-go, and they’re a little similar in their seriousness, but alvarez is determined from the start to befried jean
(it works because part of it is that she thinks they’ll be unstoppable as defensive partners, and she tells jean this straight off of the bat. it’s the kind of reasoning jean can get behind)
the rest of the trojans are a blur of faces and names, too much enthusiasm for jean to really deal with. he hides the fact he’s overwhelmed with carelessness and a little bit of cruelty at first, feeling like a broken bird hunkered down amongst them as they chatter and jostle each other
none of the trojans are prepared for jean when he joins their practices at first - he’s silent amongst them, and so fucking fast their goalkeepers’ workloads are suddenly halved in scrimmage
it’s exciting but unnerving. jeremy is meant to be the one to take jean in hand and turn him into a team player, but he mostly leaves it to the girls because they’re better at it. it’s not like he doesn’t know jean had a complicated relationship with his last captain
they end up getting along anyway - jean likes jeremy’s stubborn determination and the ferocity that walks hand-in-hand with his bright good cheer. jeremy appreciates jean’s skill and honesty, even if he thinks jean could tone down the bad attitude at times. he also thinks jean has a nice ass, but that’s beside the point
their first game together, the trojans win. jeremy makes jean a deal as a joke that he’ll take him out for ice cream if he doesn’t earn a red card. jean raises an eyebrow and tells him that he hopes jeremy promises the entire team the same. jeremy says it’s only fair, and yells through the stadium lounge that it’s a deal
their first season, they steal the championship trophy from the foxes, and jean gets to look kevin day in the eye for the first time in a long while with the knowledge that this one thing, at least, he’s won
(jeremy buys him that ice cream. all the others, too. it’s only fair)
alvarez shows jean how to be a proper partner. laila and the others teach him what it means to be part of the team. all of them together watch him paste himself back together, come back stronger for it like he’s growing scar tissue on the inside too
(jeremy also manages to convince him he’s fucking beautiful - but that’s another post)
summary: lin buys a late 18th century piano during the writing process for hamilton, and when he gets it home, he’s surprised to find there’s a ghost attached to it. reader has been attached to her piano for hundreds of years, and is thrilled to talk about her good friend eliza hamilton with the genius who purchased her piano.
warnings: swearing, and i think that’s it idk do ghosts need to be tagged is that a thing
word count: 5,308
a/n: this is for the @hamwriters write-a-thon day one!!! AH okay i haven’t seen anyone write a ghost AU fic yet, so i don’t know how well received this will be BUT i really like it and i hope you guys do too (if u don’t pls be nice to me i’m fragile)
The lights of the George Washington Bridge glow in the distance, a stark contrast to the dark waters of the Hudson. Lin grunts as he pushes the piano up against the window of his studio apartment, leaning an arm on the top of the piano to peer out at the view.
“To be honest, the piano looked better against the wall,” you pipe up from your perch on the arm of the worn out leather sofa.
Lin spins around quickly, a startled look etched on his face. “Who’s in here?”
“Hi there,” you wave your hand, a small smirk on your face, before you stand. You smooth out your skirts and take a few steps toward him.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?” He takes a few quick steps backwards as you approach, his back colliding with the wall.
“Relax,” you hold up your hands in a show of benevolence. “I come with the piano.”
Trini having a nightmare then protective Kim is protective and they're adorable b/c I'm a sucker for fluff and trimberly
I proofed this twice and it still seems bad, but whatever. Here you go, hope you enjoy!
She could feel the warm saliva hitting her face, the weight of a body over her, inches from her face, the strong odour of rotting fish, the heavy breathing, and then she was being thrown across her room like a rag doll. She saw herself fighting, heaving, spazzing, anything to get out of Rita’s iron grip. She did everything she could, but it all fell short. She waited for Rita to try manipulate her, threatening her friends, threaten her, but this time was different.
“You’ve grown quite fond of those rangers haven’t you, yellow?”
Rita asks, her voice alluring, a threat boiling at the bottom of her throat, waiting to be unleashed. Trini doesn’t respond, she tries to yell, scream, kick, punch, anything, but her body won’t react, her limbs stay limp as Rita tightened her grip around her neck, pushing her harder into the wall, the smell of fish seeping into Trini’s nose, causing her to gag, her body pressing harder against the wall, trying to get away. Rita’s hands are wet and sticky, her face inches from Trini’s, her voice malicious, testing and tempting Trini.
“But I’ve seen how close you’ve grown to a particular one, that Kimberly girl, the pink ranger I believe. Would be a shame if anything happened to her.”
Rita chuckles, her voice low and menacing. Trini’s body finally responds, her legs thrashing, her arms grasping at Rita’s hands. Trini snarls at Rita, her face scrunched up, her nails scratching at Rita, as she threatens.
Trini’s voice is hoarse and strained, her threat falling flat and weak, nothing more than an empty promise. Rita just chuckles, a sly, villainous smirk spreading across her pale, wrinkled face.
“You’re too late, yellow.”
A loud, ear splitting scream pierces the air.
Trini tries thrashing again. Rita’s maniacal laughter washing over Kimberly’s cries for help, Trini’s heart starts racing, her entire body thrashing and spazzing, trying to escape.
“Trin, Trini are you okay? T, are you there? Trini!”
Kimberly’s voice calls out Trini’s dream starts to fade away, the feeling of Kim’s arms shaking Trini, one hand shaking her shoulder, the other softly rubbing her arm, her voice soft, but worried. Trini jolted awake, her entire body shooting forward, head butting Kimberly, knocking her backwards.
Kimberly exclaims, rubbing her forehead. Trini’s eyes race around the room, expecting Rita to jump at her again, her heart still racing, her hands shaking, the ghost of Rita’s hands still grasping at her neck. Trini took a few moments to remember where she was, for her breathing to steady, for her hands to stop shaking, and for her to realize that Kim was sitting right next to her, Kim’s hands softly caressing Trini’s back, her gaze soft, the hints of worry in her eyes, and something that looked all to close to fear.
Once Trini had realized that she was safe, Rita was gone, and that Kimberly was safe, she looked back at Kimberly, who gave her a hint of a smile, reassuring her wordlessly. Trini couldn’t bring herself to say anything, she wanted to say so much, how she was so worried about Kim, how she was so afraid she had lost her, how much Kimberly meant to her, more than she had known before, but the words died in her throat, and all she could do was stare, her hand moving slowly to Kim’s cheek, softly caressing her face, making sure this wasn’t another nightmare, that Kimberly was here, she was safe, and real.
Kimberly held Trini’s hand on her face, keeping their gazes locked. She didn’t have to know what the nightmare was about, she had a pretty good feeling, but this one was slightly different than Trini’s other dreams, Kim knew that. Kimberly didn’t want to press, so she just spoke gently, her voice calm and quiet, covering layers of worry and fear.
“I’m okay Trin, and so are you. She’s not going to hurt you again, I won’t let her.”
Kimberly said, leaning her head forward, resting it against Trini’s. Kimberly could feel Trini’s voice hitch, Trini wanting to say something, but her words falling short. Trini kept her gaze locked with Kimberly, her emotions running high, she needed to know that she was right there, with Trini, and she needed to know that Kimberly cared. Trini’s eyes dropped to Kimberly’s lips, which Kimberly noticed, licking her lips instinctively, but something was different in Trini’s eyes, and as she pressed their lips together, ever so slowly, ever so gently, Trini could feel her heart flutter, she could feel Kimberly’s lips against hers, soft and warm, her home.
Kimberly pulled away slowly, positioning them back into the bed, knowing how tired Trini was, emotionally and physically. Kimberly pressed her stomach against Trini’s back, wrapping her arm snuggly around Trini’s waist, pulling her closer, her grip tight, scared of letting go, the protectiveness washing over Kim. Kimberly could feel Trini sigh contently, and couldn’t help the smile spread across her face, at how warm and cuddly Trini could be, how she felt comfortable with Kimberly, even after seeing her so afraid, Kimberly felt the same way.
Trini may have felt more safe and content, but something was itching at her, a question, something was keeping her awake. Kimberly always felt awful and guilty after Trini woke from her dreams, although nothing Rita had done was Kimberly’s fault, she always caught herself feeling guilty, blaming herself. So she she asked softly, not wanting to push any boundaries, knowing that Trini would wall up in seconds, so she didn’t demand anything from Trini, she just let the question float in the space around them.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Trini sighed softly at the question, her mouth trying to utter a thousand different words and statements, but just as she had done the entire night, her words fell flat, her voice hitched, and once again, her brain disobeyed her. She desperately tried to say something, to explain her dream, to tell Kim how much she meant to Trini, how Trini couldn’t bare to lose her, how she would feel so lost, but she didn’t want to sound co-dependant or clingy, the lingering fear of Kimberly bolting, but Trini deep down, in her heart, she knew the other girl wouldn’t do that, knowing that they had both become so much to each other, a safe place, a home.
Trini let the question settle in the air for what felt like an eternity, thinking that Kim had already fallen asleep, until the words were bursting in her throat, so she blurted out, her voice strained with emotion, cracking, as she tried to convey her feelings and worry.
“Please…Don’t leave, I don’t….Just don’t leave me, please.”
Trini begged, her voice thick with emotions, past memories of abandonment filling her head, she couldn’t bare Kim leaving too.
Kim heard the emotion in Trini’s voice, she felt it, she felt her heart clench, melting into Trini, wanting to convey all the love she felt for the other girl. But all Kim could do was pull Trini closer, as reassuringly as possible. She whispered lovingly in Trini’s ear, trying to make sure the other girl knew how she felt.
“I’m not leaving Trini, not anytime soon, I won’t let myself, I couldn’t leave. Okay?”
She asks, her voice thick and hoarse, but still trying to put on a brave face. Trini didn’t say anything, she just nodded slowly, pressing her body closer into Kimberly’s, curling up slowly, while Kimberly buried her face into Trini’s neck, hoping that what she said and how she acted, how she held Trini so tightly, how she pressed feather light kisses down Trini’s neck, would be enough, and for now, it seemed like it would be.
lots of Frisks i see are into skeletons or goat boys. this particular Frisk is into ghosts and robots. <3
i finished this one late last night but since i already uploaded something else yesterday i decided to wait till this morning to upload it. (that, and it was like 1 in the morning…i needed to sleep rip) ive had a couple questions asking me if i’d ever drawn Frisk with Mettaton as a ghost, and i have but the drawing i have saved is a little old but i might upload it at some point. i decided to draw Frisk with both ghost cousins since Blooky needs love too <3
i had the urge to draw her in a sailor uniform, sailor uniforms are my jam, lol
Time Frame: 380 years after Rhys is made High Lord
Summary: An offshoot group of high fae have been rumored to be trafficking humans into the Middle as a form of entertainment. Azriel goes to check out the situation and gets into a fight with disastrous consequences. Help comes in the strangest of forms.
How could this have happened to you? You’d been warned that people had it out for Samcro but never the extent of what was happening to you. Your husband, Happy, had told you to be cautious because things were going down and you just needed to be careful.
It was always known that when this was said, you do not go anywhere without the escort of a Samcro member, even if it be a prospect. But of course, you being the stubborn woman you are, you’d completely ditched the rules and had gone out alone. You were only out for a grocery run and cigarettes, but in such a short amount of time, everything began to go wrong.
You were sure if Happy found out, he’d be more than murderous and a little upset with you for the fact you’d gone out alone when he constantly begged you not to. The Samcro family was not on lockdown, ever, but it was still cautioned at the time. Apparently, they’d really pissed off some sick people.
Making it to the grocery store, you hadn’t noticed the vehicle that had followed you from a reasonable distance the entire time and even parked a row over away from you but kept an eye on your car. You’d never been so blind and naive in your life and you’ve every right to beat yourself up over it.
You’d gotten the groceries into your truck, packed everything away and had even made it to the tobacco store to pick up a case or two of cigarettes before you even made it home. And you did make it home, into the safety of your walls with armfuls of groceries.
Breaking glass had you alert, dropping the groceries in the kitchen to look at the front door where the glass on it had been broken and a gloved hand was coming through to twist the knob once unlocking it. Your body was frozen in place, stuck where you stood in your home, a gun a mere five feet away in a kitchen drawer for easy access. But you seemingly couldn’t break out of your fear struck stage.
With the front door swinging open and masked men bustling into your home, the sight of their guns seemed to break you, immediately lunging for the drawer but a muffled shot to your shoulder had you screaming in pain and collapsing to the floor. Blood dripping from the wound, soaking your tanned shirt and dripping to the floor as well.
You’d never felt pain so excruciating and this was unbearable in so many ways. Tears streaked down your cheeks, hands grabbing your feet and beginning to tie your ankles together had you becoming aware of your surroundings again. You let out another blood-curdling scream, trying to kick at the male but several more come to his aid, holding you down with ease.
The struggling ceases, along with the screaming as a hand is over your mouth, leaving you a muffled mess. Your hands and feet are tied in quick succession, your body being lifted and quickly carried out of your home but not before a message is left scrawled in your blood on the wall.
Happy only comes home because you’d not been answering his phone calls and seeing your car outside in the driveway settled a fear that was bubbling deep inside of him. But the moment he saw the broken glass on the front door, the door left ajar, the fear settled back in along with anger. Upon further walking into your shared home, he first noticed the message scrawled in dried blood on the wall, staining your white painted walls, a puddle of blood on the floor.
‘BLOOD FOR BLOOD’
This meant one thing, and one thing only. The club had killed one of Darby’s family members, it being an accidental thing when they’d decided to raid his place.
He was hesitant about asking the guys for help, he’s never liked having to ask for help but he knows he can’t do this on his own. He’s only known you’ve been gone for ten minutes and he’s already feeling distraught, hands wringing together tightly as he paces around your home, looking for any other signs, something to let him know that you’re still alive and he’s not going to be finding your dead body.
Once he’s searched the home twice to only find nothing to help his case, he calls Jax, begs him to get the boys rallied up and headed to his place, that he’ll explain everything when everyone was there.
The sound of motorcycles was heard just five minutes after he and Jax got off the phone, and the first face he sees coming in through the front door is Jax, followed by the others.
Jax opens his mouth to speak but the sight of the blood-scrawled message on the wall has him completely silent for once in his life. His heart is in his throat, swallowing thickly and looking to Happy who’s got tears in his eyes though he’s trying to quickly blink them away.
“Darby.” Jax nods, looking to the boys. “Back on the bikes, let’s go!”
Everyone seemed to move faster than Happy had ever seen them move though he supposes they could say the same thing for him. He’s on his bike with his helmet on in a matter of moments. He’s also the first to leave his yard, the first one down the street, and the first one speeding so much he’s sure he’d be pulled over if the cops cared enough to do so.
It was like he couldn’t even think right, couldn’t focus on one thing other than getting to Darby’s. Everyone knows Darby isn’t very smart and because this is payback, he’s going to make sure that Happy knows exactly where to find his wife; alive or dead.
The drive seems like it takes forever, hours upon hours but Happy’s at Darby’s trailer house on the outskirts of Charming, barely even able to put his bike on its kickstand before he’s rushing the front door.
“Y/N!” He yells, having made it minutes before the boys, pulling his gun from his jeans and kicking the door in with surprising ease. The sight before him, his wife laid out, blood smeared across the floor like there was a struggle.
It all has Happy sick to his stomach, heart dropping from his chest into his stomach as he walks closer to her barely moving body. He can see the small but labored rise and fall of your chest, indicating you’re still alive and you’re breathing.
He drops to his knees, sliding to your side and carefully cradling your body to his chest, a shaking hand ghosting over you, trying to find the source of the blood but there’s so much of it and tears are clouding his vision. He can’t see straight.
“Baby? Baby stay with me, c'mon. I’ve got you, you’re gonna be alright, okay?” His voice wavers, little shakes and breaks here and there and you suck in as deep a breath as you can, your cloudy eyes opening and looking at Happy.
His features are blurry, you can barely make him out but his voice soothes you, the fear that’s settled deep in your chest at the thought of dying. But you’re oddly becoming peaceful at Happy’s close proximity, his voice in your ear as he nuzzles you close.
“H-Happy, no it’s O-okay, I’m okay.” You cough, blood spilling down the side of your mouth, Happy beginning to rock you gently, not able to stifle the sob that leaves his lips.
You’ve never heard him cry like this, never in your life and it’s beginning to scare you. He couldn’t do this to you, you were going to be okay and he had to understand that.
But he watches as the life begins to leave your body, watches as you go limp in his grip and the rise and fall of your chest halts completely. An animalistic cry leaves his lips, head falling back as he cradles your lifeless body to his chest.
It’s like a hole is being ripped in his chest and his heart is being clawed out viciously. You’d only been married for almost a year, you hadn’t even had your first anniversary as husband and wife.
How could you be taken away so quickly? How could anyone do this to you?
Jax jogs his way up the steps into the trailer house, hearing Happy’s cries and the way he repeats 'no’ over and over. Jax sees your body in Happy’s grip, how he’s gripping at you like it’ll bring you back and keep you with him but you’re already gone.
Chibs makes his way over, hand settling on Happy’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “C'mon, brotha. We need to get her out of here.” He whispers, Happy’s body shaking under his hand as he nods and carefully stands. He carries your body outside to the van when Juice shows up in it, sitting in the back with you in his grip and caressing your hair back gently.
It’s been a week since Happy had found you, a week of not waking up to your face, a week of not hearing your voice, an entire fucking week since he’d last held you in his arms. It’s like a decline in his life like he’s under water and being held under.
He’d not left the house but to help plan your funeral and that was only for a short two hours. He was back at your house, curled in sheets that smelled so deeply of you, face buried in your pillow and crying himself to sleep again.
When it came time for your funeral, he dressed heavily in Samcro attire, pulling his kutte on over his jacket, sliding on his rings and necklace.
Riding to the funeral, he was head of everyone, the boys following behind in an almost practiced sequence, the entire group following the hearse that carried your dead body.
And when your coffin was lowered into the ground, Happy couldn’t help but collapse by the grave and beg you to come back, Jax and Chibs standing at his sides, hands rested on his shoulders as he cries.
Each anniversary, Happy goes out of his way to buy himself dinner and you a large bouquet of flowers and have a candle lit dinner at your grave with you.
No matter what, he won’t miss it for the world, and he won’t let you go.
Based on the prompt: “i’ve been brought to the future for historical study and you’re one of the scholars questioning me.” In which Yuuri has to interview someone from the past, and Victor was a famous figure skater who died about 50 years ago. It’s hard to interview someone when you’re either flirting or gossipping, fyi. / “Um, Mr. Nikiforov,” he starts, wincing at how stupidly awkward he sounds.
“Oh, please.” From where he’s sitting down at the table, Victor smiles at him, leaning forward just a bit, and sets his palm over the back of Yuuri’s hand, making him snap up to stare at him. “Just call me Victor.”
how about possession AU where instead of being evil spirits its just ghosts of long lost lovers who want to finally be united (and maybe bone down) and choose g and sid for *handwaves* reasons. and instead of being all ominous it just results in the team finding the two in compromising positions, talking like some sort of bodice ripper romance characters. also g would totally be possessed by the lady ghost. because imagine him swooning into sid's arms.
om g LOOOOL okay tbh when i first read long lost ghost lovers I immediately thought of a ghost who latches onto sid because Sid looks like his lover, and he thinks that his lover has finally come back to him (his lover died - either killed by angry townsfolk or at sea, i haven’t decided yet), and the ghosts sees geno as someone he must get rid of
Hi, I'm sorry I'm sure you're getting burnt out on todomomo so this is the last (from me!) What about a situation where Todoroki accidentally burns Momo with his left side? Aaangst ;_;
;Play With Fire
They’d been searching for hours. Dusk gave warning to sailors at sea, streaking the sky a bloody red that sent chills through Momo’s spine. Shadows lurched and spread from buildings, making it difficult to see through alleys and narrow streets. She had to find him.
In the distance, Momo could hear classmates screaming Todoroki’s name. Some of them were panicked. Others sounded worried. Momo, however, couldn’t bring herself to voice his name.
She’d never forget the ache of longing in his eyes. She’d met his gaze seconds before he’d fled school grounds. If she didn’t know any better, Momo would have sworn his entire body was covered in flame. The exam was going well – he was at odds with Bakugou for some time, trading blows that could split the world at its very core – until suddenly he stopped, shut down like a phone with no battery. She remembered Bakugou restraining his fist in the air, remembered the glimmer of fear in Todoroki’s eyes. It was as though he’d seen a ghost.
Shaking the exam from her thoughts, Momo ducked into an alley to her right and stole into the shadows. She found him crouching at the end of the street, where a towering wall brought the passage to a dead end. He was holding his face in his hands. Though she could tell he was mumbling, Todoroki’s voice didn’t quite reach her ears.
‘Todoroki,’ she whispered, approaching with practised caution. ‘Come back with me, okay?’
He didn’t speak.
Inhaling a deep breath, Momo crouched to place a hand on his shoulder. Todoroki swung around instinctively. His hand connected with the side of her neck. The pain was blinding. Something hot seared through her skin. The stench of it burning was dizzying.
Tumbling into the wall, Momo slid her fingers into the gap between the bricks and forced herself upright. Todoroki was staring at her, his eyes wide. His right hand, she saw, was coated in flame.
‘It won’t stop,’ he said. ‘It won’t stop. I’m going to look like him.’
‘Don’t come near me!’ he yelled.
Momo winced against the pain in her neck and eased herself off the wall. Forcing herself to approach him, she dropped to her knees on the ground and slid an arm carefully around his neck. He kept his hands in the air, away from her face, and let out a miserable sound as she embraced him.
‘You’re Shouto,’ she said.
His breathing was laboured. ‘Your neck…’
Momo combed her fingers through his hair. ‘Listen to me,’ she said. ‘You’re Shouto. You’re a member of Class 1-A. Together, we’re going to become pros. You’re going to use fire and ice to save people’s lives. Your strength is growing. Your quirk is developing. That’s a good thing. You’re going to be your own hero. You’re going to help so many people.’
His breathing quietened. After a moment, his hands moved to her back. Neither of them burned. In fact, they were a pleasant warmth that made her heart flutter at the comfort of being held.
‘You’re not alone,’ Momo told him.
A heartbeat later, Todoroki was pushing Momo away, his hands firm on her shoulders. He stared at her neck, which still throbbed with a painful heat. His right hand moved along her shoulder, spreading a chill through her body. It soothed the burn, but the pain was still a phantom in her mind.
‘It’ll leave a mark,’ he said, mostly to himself. ‘Damn it. That bastard is always…no.’ Todoroki’s eyes snapped up to hers. ‘It was me. This was my fault. I’m sorry, Momo. Your skin is–’
‘I have plenty more,’ she said. ‘Besides, what kind of hero doesn’t have a few scrapes and scars here and there?’
He looked to resist a smile. They stared at each other for a moment, seeking comfort in the silence. She’d wear the burn with pride. It was proof that she’d done something to help him. She’d reached out and helped someone she cared about. That was enough.
‘I’ve found Shouto!’ a voice yelled from above.
‘He’s with Yaoyorozu,’ another said behind them.
‘Way to go, vice-pres!’
‘Bastard!’ Bakugou, she realised. ‘Don’t just walk away from a fight!’
Footsteps echoed into the alleyway.
‘Everyone’s looking for you,’ Momo explained. ‘They’re worried.’
‘What about the exam?’ he asked.
A hint of guilt touched his eyes.
Momo smiled to herself. ‘For us, Shouto Todoroki is far more important.’
Ryan Murphy:We just finished shooting last week. Have you managed to shake the ghost of Joan Crawford?
Jessica Lange: She’s going to be a hard one to let go of, because it was a character we explored in such depth, which always gets into the marrow of your bones and lives there for a while. I didn’t think about anything else for five months. I’d read a little bit of the horrible news of the world, but other than that, I just kept returning to Joan Crawford all day long, every day.
It’s pretty high in protein and calories so I think it would be good if your bulking… but it’s expensive and I feel like buying a simple whey isolate for your protein and using the extra calories you’d have towards food you enjoy would be better