one looks suspicious

NHLers and the Olympics (hypothetical)

1/?

Alex Ovechkin goes to the Olympics. No one questions his many carry on bags, or why one looks suspiciously like Nicklas Backstrom.

The NHL is curious as to why Henrik Lundqvist has been playing so poorly for the Rangers during the time of the Olympics. Joel Lunqvist must be feeling off too..he called in sick to work all month. 

Carey Price builds a small wall in his net, then leaves and goes to the Olympics. No one notices the difference. 

Sidney Crosby wants to go to the Olympics but he does not want to let down the Penguins or break the rules. Fleury and Letang put melatonin in  Crosbys PB&J. He wakes up on the Plane next to to Jamie Benn. 

A displeased Jamie Benn is duck taped to a giggly Tyler Seguin. 

Brent Burns smuggles  Joe Pavelski to the Olympics in his beard. 

Shea Weber fires a fake slap shot. It fake hits Markov, Plekanec and Pacioretty. They are all out for the month  with fake and vague injuries. They get fake beards and go to the Olympics under fake names. 

Erik Karlsson is very handsome. He tells the league he is going to the Olympics, they are distracted by all the handsome and tell him its fine.

No one wants to have to tell Tuukka Rask he cant go to the Olympics, so no one does.

whaaa? this isnt a compilation of clips that i kinda thought were suspicious and possibly/possibly not alluding to Anti? what makes you think that? *cough* *cough*

I think I’ve figured out why The Best Hit is working so well for me. It’s everything Entertainer promised me but failed to deliver. It’s got Producers sensibility and sense of humor but with more confidence and consistency in the execution. It’s outlandish and unpredictable but very human and warm. And unexpectedly it’s my favorite show running right now.

081717 | jimin

➢ You accidentally download an annoying, albeit helpful virus named Jimin
➢ fluff + computer virus!jimin
➢ 2,880 words


You’d think, that after over two decades of life experiences, nearly three years of college, five semesters and one summer of essays whose due dates were explicitly written on the syllabus, you would have gotten the hang of the one piece of advice that nearly every professor had.

Don’t start an assignment the night before it’s due.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Dude you know how in the camping tent there's like, little to no space for 4 men? Who would be the cuddliest? Who would wake up to go pee only to be surrounded by 3 snoring bros?

holy s h i t get ready for a wild ride anon

  • it’s getting dark and everyone is laying in the tent silently  
  • ignis is just thinking about how the next day is going to go and staring up at the top of the tent when someone with a particularly fluffy head of hair just latches onto him 
  • he kinda jolts a little bit and gladio opens one eye curiously from his cramped position near the flap to see noct completely passed out and just curled into ignis’ side 
  • in his defense ignis is really warm 
  • ignis expected the culprit to be prompto but no he’s just asleep in between noct and gladio and being perfectly peaceful
  • eventually ignis and gladio fall asleep too and everything’s fine for 0.2 seconds
  • but in the middle of the night gladio just opens his eyes and then immediately narrows them 
  • shit 
  • he hasn’t had to pee this bad in like five whole years but he’s not the quietest person so moving is a thing he’s dreading because he doesn’t want to wake up noctis - he’s a grumpy little shit when he doesn’t get enough sleep
  • he manages to sit up quietly but as he’s putting on one of his shoes he just feels something attach itself to his leg
  • he just freezes and slowly looks down 
  • he can’t really see anything but a tuft of blond hair and a tangled mess of blankets 
  • aside from the yellow chocobo blanket there’s also one that looks suspiciously like noct’s fluffy navy blue one and is that his other sock?
  • prompto has somehow managed to take at least three of their blankets and gladio’s fucking sock is this man even human what the fuck prompto
  • the poor man just wants to pee 
  • gladio just lays back down miserably because he’s not going to wake up the literal ray of sunshine clinging to him only a monster would do that
  • gladio just ruffles prompto’s hair and sighs
  • when they wake up in the morning gladio looks like he hasn’t slept for 80 years and noctis wakes up sprawled horizontally over ignis 
  • prompto just opens his eyes and separates himself from the mess of blankets and smiles really sweetly even though gladio knows what he’s done
  • he can’t fool anyone with that smile, the dirty sock-stealing bastard
  • prompto claims to have no recollection of what happened and acts just as confused as everyone else when gladio bolts off into the woods the next morning the second prom lets go of him 
  • and yet, the next night, gladio wakes up to a blond haired bathroom break saboteur clinging to him 
  • god fucking dammit, prompto

helplesslynerdy  asked:

Draw your OC: Donna, 12 and/or 28? Please? ;)

28. In the work-clothes of the job they want or wished they had

(an investigative reporter seems fitting somehow, no?)

and a bonus 12. As a Scene kid

send me a costume doodle prompt!

9

LoT ladies + the old west

anonymous asked:

please write more about isak and even at evens house!!

(I like this verse too anon :P)

——-

“So let me get this straight,” Isak says, glancing over his shoulder to see that Even was very occupied with chopping carrots. 

(So occupied, in fact, that there would be no way for him to see Isak dumping yet another bag of chocolate chips into his cookie batter.)

“Hmm?”

“Once a month you and your parents cook shit and gather round a coffee table… to play board games?”

Even rolls his eyes. Isak can’t see him, but he knows the bastard and he knows what would earn him an eye roll. 

“Yeah. It’s family night. You know, bonding time? Reminders that we all love and care for each other enough to gather one night a month in attempt to kick ass at like monopoly and other games.”

“Huh,” Isak replies ever so eloquently, and begins to rolls globs of dough into balls worthy of oven time. “Mine never did that.”

Even is quiet for several seconds, but then he’s setting down his knife and strolling over to Isak’s position at the opposite end of the kitchen, “My parent’s begged for me to get you to come over, you know. I’m really beginning to think they love you more than me.”

Which, ha.

Isak thinks of Even’s dad’s purple face that time he caught them doing-

Well. Things that no father should see.

“Of course they do.” Isak clears his throat and dips his thumb into the cookie dough, bringing a glob up to his mouth.

Before he could eat it though, Even swoops in and sucks Isak’s cookie-doughed thumb into his mouth, swirling his tongue around with a mischievous expression.

“That’s not fair.” Isak whispers, especially when Even sucks harder and waggles his eyebrows.

“Ahem.”

Isak yanks his hand away from Even’s (fucking awesome) mouth fast enough to hear his wrist crack.

And of course, Even’s dad is standing there, already reddening; clearly averting his eyes from the two of them in some sort of effort to gain strength. 

(And what would he need to gain strength from? How about catching his son fucking sucking on Isak’s thumb like it was Isak’s dick? Is that what Even’s dad thought about? It’s surely what Isak thought about- fuck. He hates his life.)

“Hey Dad,” Even greets, cheerily enough. “Are you getting the games set up?”

“Uh huh,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, “Are you two almost- finished up and ready to come- to head over- to the living room?”

Yeah, Isak wants to die a little bit. But then again, by the looks of it, so does Even’s dad. They’d be good kindred spirits in time.

“Yeah,” Isak clears his throat, willing the high-pitch of his voice to settle the fuck down. “We will be right out. Cookies are going in the oven for dessert and… yeah.”

“Great,” he shuffles away from the kitchen, giving one last suspicious look to the two boys.

Isak sighs, shrugging off Even’s snort of laughter. “You’re about as red as Eskild that one time we went to the gym.”

“Shut up,” Isak groans, stealing a bit of cookie dough for himself and glaring when Even moves forward to steal that bit as well. “Go away, you’re getting me into enough trouble.”

“The only trouble you’ll be getting into is when you’re bankrupt in monopoly.” Even pauses, “I wonder if my parents would be up for some strip poker when we’re done with that.”

“Even.”

“It’s a joke,” Even leans down to peck Isak’s forehead and heading back out towards the living room, “We will save that for the bedroom.”

Isak doesn’t know whether the corresponding groan he hears is coming from Even’s dad or himself.

Stereotypes (Sherlock x reader)


A/N/Summary: Because stereotypes suck, that’s why. No, really. Every time I see a fanfic about reader on her periods it’s always painful and crying and shouting. Not everyone gets to be victimized (as much at least) by their hormones and act stereotypically influenced by what’s going on in the between of their legs. of course I’m not hating on anyone who experiences those symptoms what so ever! Why would I? I mean, it hurts for me too these days, but about two years ago I never felt anything when I were on my periods. No pain, no mood swings (still no mood swings, no changes in my diet) but I know there are more girls and women who do not ’belong’ to that typical period experiencing category. So this for you girls, for them who experience their periods ’differently’.

You were cooking in the kitchen while Sherlock sat behind you, on the other side of the kitchen table. You and him and been chatting twenty minutes straight about stereotypes. You couldn’t even remember anymore how you two had ended up with this subject, but you felt happy for it. You felt like you were educating your smart ass friend by answering to his questions.

”Pink as a favorite color?” Sherlock had dig into the more ridiculous stereotypes by now as he, for a man who read science and biology hardly believed in stereotypes, had already questioned you of the ’hard ones’.

”That is more of an opinion question.” You taunted with a disappointed smirk. Sherlock hummed signaling you he had heard you, but not giving away how he felt for your statement.

Sherlock had his elbows on the table, his palms pressed together and fingers touching his chin. He was staring at you intently, his eyes blinking rarely, but it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. You knew that look. You had seen him making it when he was hearing out his clients. If a case was interesting enough his stare would deepen, eyes wide just slightly and head tilting upwards.

”What about women riding cars?” You asked from Sherlock instead after a minute of silence. He scoffed, rolling his eyes and closing them for a long second, then frustratedly waved his hands and let them rest on the table. ”That is a stereotype that can’t be proven by biology, mostly.” He said the last word after giving it a second thought. ”Comparing women and men on driving and ending up with the solution that favors the stereotype is impossible. There are numerous studies that prove against it. Women have actually been said to be better at driving than men, known to be more considerate and less erratic than men.” He said without skipping a beat.

”I wasn’t doubting it.” You cut in to his rant.

”Good.” He said. You waited a second before coming up with another question, but Sherlock got there first as his gaze on you deepened. You knew from the look that this would be a tricky question for you to answer to. He had drawn his hands together again, giving you the look as if you were his client and he had just heard your story staring to get interesting, his eyes lit up as he went to ask his perfect question.

”Acting differently while menstruation.” He said the words carefully, but held the intimidating look on his face as if this was the question that would beat you. Of course it wasn’t a contest. Or to you it wasn’t. Okay, maybe it was, but only if you would be challenged. Sherlock of course didn’t much base his opinions on stereotypes but to facts and science so you couldn’t feel bad for what ever the real answer to these presumptions would be. You knew Sherlock would only give you answers based on truth.

”A stereotype.” You answered and expected him to go for the next, but the look that spread on his face signaled that this was far from over. His eyes went wide, then a disagreeing scowl took place on his pale face and he questioned: ”A stereotype?” You nodded your head and repeated the words after him.

”No it isn’t. Biologically women are influenced by their hormones while on their periods. It affects on their emotions and acts. I’ve seen you throw a fit repeatedly and as days go by then you becoming your peaceful and carefree self again.” Sherlock had kept an eye on you, trying to track down your behavior in an experiment bases, but your mood swings usually didn’t match with his calculations.

”You have been eating junk food three days or more in a row,-” You cut him off there and said, ”I’m on my periods, Sherlock.” He looked at you in silence a second before smiling doubtingly at you. ”No, you had your menstruation last week.” He was referring to your last weeks bad mood, how you easily got angry and would snap when approached.

”No, I didn’t. I’m on my periods right now.” You stated and put your hands on your waist. ”And like I just said, it’s a stereotype that girls act off while on periods. I may not know how the hormones work on me, but I know I’m quite the same when I’m on them.” You waited for Sherlock to say something but instead he just urged you to continue with your speech by nodding his head. ”I never feel pain or spontaneously change my diet. The only thing that might be different is that I need to use the bathroom more often on bad days.”

Sherlock gave you one last suspicious look and then asked you, ”Are you sure?” You wanted to slap him. Were you sure you were on your periods? Yes. Were you sure you were in control of your moods and acts? Definitely.

”Yes, Sherlock.” You sighed. ”Like I said, I’m not feeling any different and I am hundred precent sure I’m on my periods.”

”Interesting.” Sherlock muttered as his eyes fell on the table. You arched an eyebrow at that. Was it really? You couldn’t help but blurt out, ”Really?” His eyes lift up and he looked at you. ”Really.” He said. ”Tell me more.”

You hesitated, but then opened your mouth to ask him anyway, ”Of what?”

”Of your symptoms while on your periods.” He rushed you to educate him.

”I don’t know…” You awkwardly muttered and scratched the back of your head, leaning against the kitchen counter behind you. Sherlock questioned why not and you could feel yourself blush a bit. ”It’s not something men and women comfortably discuss about. I don’t want to gross you out.”

Sherlock stood up from his chair, the legs of the said furniture making a noise while sweeping over the wooden floor. He walked right in front of you and took a stand before you. He put his hands on each side of your face and made you look at him, his soft eyes reaching for yours and when they met you couldn’t look away.

”You would never.” And he kissed your forehead. You smirked at his statement and had to ask him was that a challenge, to which he only chuckled.

(Okay, now my thumb hurts like hell, guess I’ll need to stop writing for today…. and for some reason I feel like this sucks, ugh…)

anonymous asked:

I absolutely adore your TodoMomo fics! ;_; Thank you so much for writing them! If there's a jealous Izuku, how about a fic starring a jealous Todoroki next? ><

Note: Thanks! To celebrate the blog reaching 800+ followers, I made this one longer than usual. Comedic and light hearted; Enjoy! 

In which Todoroki and Yaoyorozu go to a photoshoot

It’s been 3 hours. The gel was trickling down her neck. His too, actually. The heat of the salon lights bounced off the sweat protruding from every pore of his face and he decided then that this could be a form of torture. He would never agree to it again; but the way her eyes begged and pleaded sucked the soul out of him. Ugh. He just couldn’t refuse.

Todoroki turned his head to face his partner in crime as requested by his so-called “experienced” stylist.

“Thanks for helping out,” Yaoyorozu said. She was sitting across from him with another crew of stylists and advisors around her, and she closed her eyes as another mist of holding spray was applied on her silky, black locks.

“When they asked me to bring a guy to do the ad with me, the first person I thought of was you.”

Todoroki winced as his stylist accidentally poked him too hard with the comb for the tenth time that hour. He was starting to think this stylist had something against him.

“No problem,” he answered, trying to hide his discomfort and he heard a hearty laugh from afar, “Kaminari, I can hear you.”

The blond spectator held his palm against his mouth, and Yaoyorozu pressed her lips together.

“Let me enlighten you,” Yaoyorozu rose a finger in the air like she was a tenured professor. This was her element.

“Heroes have to appeal to the public by any means necessary. So although Todoroki and I may look silly right now, this is just part of our growth as young heroes.” She saw Kaminari’s stoic expression and continued, “I learnt this during my internship with Ms.Uwabami.”

Kaminari quickly nodded to placate the girl. Never underestimate Yaoyorozu’s power to educate.

“Sorry, you look great Yaomomo. I was just laughing at Todoroki.”

Jirou, lying low, angled and positioned her phone in front of her face. With a final decision to move one inch to her left, she steadied her hand.

“Smile! Wait, Todoroki can you smile a little wider. No, smile like you mean it. Okay, that’s perfect!” Jirou’s phone flashed and she went on, “As per Ashido’s orders, I am to take as many pictures of the backstage process as possible. She’s probably crying right now in her supplementary class.”

Yaoyorozu gave a winsome smile, one that Todoroki was sure would have earned her an academy award if she were an actress, and gazed upon her own reflection to examine her appearance. She seemed impressed. Within a brief moment, the stylists told them to get into the dingy little studio with cameras and flimsy backdrops set up by anything but their own accord.

“Okay we’ll be watching from here!” Kaminari called out, moving over to the side,“and uhh, Jirou’s gonna be our own little ‘camerawoman’.” He scratched imaginary apostrophes above him for emphasis.

Todoroki was actually, for once, doubting himself.

“We’re gonna start with Ms.Yaoyorozu’s solo shots,” the camera man said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “Mr.Todoroki please observe from the side.”

Todoroki complied and crossed his arms, moving himself over to Kaminari’s right. He felt like one of the audience in a show and found himself astonished at Yaoyorozu’s professional demeanor. True, she was in her element when she was teaching and fighting crime, but Todoroki had to confess, modelling might also be her calling.

Yaoyorozu sat gracefully with her legs extended in front of her on sand that was too yellow to be real, beside a beach ball. She was wearing a black bikini, no patterns, just a bunch of straps that was supposed to ‘hide’ her creamy skin. To add onto the sultriness of the photo, the staff sprayed some water on her chest and limbs to portray a ‘hey look I just came out of the water’ type of image. Her hair was down and she was holding a bottle of shampoo, levelled with her face; with every move of the camera, her slightly poised head would follow with a radiant smile brighter than the flash itself.

“Excellent,” the cameraman muttered with every click of his skillful finger. “Ms.Yaoyorozu let’s do one where you’re laying down on your stomach, looking into the camera.”

Jirou froze, “Hey isn’t that a little too…” And she blushed. Her new position made Todoroki’s blood boil in places it shouldn’t be. Were they advertising the shampoo or Yaoyorozu?

“Great!” The cameraman cried after a few shots, not willing to waste another second, “Okay now Mr.Todoroki could you please come and join her?”

Todoroki glued his fingers together like a glove and slid them down. Wait, where the hell were the pockets. He sighed. He totally forgot he was wearing these thin, red swim shorts with an airy shirt that looked like it came out of a gaudy 1980’s closet.

“Hey, shouldn’t Todoroki be shirtless? I mean, they’re supposed to be at a beach right,” Kaminari suggested, eyes looking heavenward as if he was thinking. God, Kaminari do you ever not cause me trouble, Todoroki thought. The cameraman looked hesitant.

“Well, Mr.Todoroki isn’t really supposed to be the focus of the shot-“

“Trust me, he has great abs,” Kaminari interjected, looking unnecessarily proud and patted his friend’s shoulder. Todoroki turned over and took a deep breath without saying a word. Someone control this idiot or he will take a blow to the stomach, slung over my knee in Satan’s presence.

The cameraman was convinced right away, “Mr.Todoroki, hurry, take off your shirt and both of you…” He placed a finger on his chin in thought, “lean against each other, back to back, and tilt your heads down.”

Todoroki looked visibly annoyed and unbuttoned his shirt. Tossing it carelessly somewhere beside him, he noticed at the side of his scope of vision that two female staff were ogling at him. He took them in stride and was quick to sit beside Yaoyorozu, who was waiting for him patiently.

The two did as they were told, albeit unfamiliar with the immense skin-to-skin contact.

“Sorry, we’re sorta touching,” Yaoyorozu said, peeking through her eyelashes. Her eyes were downcast upon her fingers below, giving the boy next to him a clear view of her chest and Todoroki whipped his head around to evade that image from branding into his mind.

“You chose me to help with this because you’re comfortable with me right?” Todoroki commented and pressed his back harder on hers. He saw the lens of the camera zoom and rushed to add, “Don’t worry, the shot will turn out great.”

~~

The next week was a total nightmare for some, but heaven for others. Especially Mineta.

“Oh my gosh,” Ashido squealed, flailing about, “You two are on fire! Look at the bulletin board at the lobby!” She landed her hands on Yaoyorozu’s desk, staring at the other girl, and continued, “Well I should say, there’s only one picture of both of you there, and the others were mainly just you, but still!”

The acid heroine’s excitement was superfluous and on the side, Mineta was engrossed with the screen of his phone, looking like he was having a field day. Jirou peered over his lumpy purple head and saw what appeared to be snapshots of Yaoyorozu’s ad as the wallpaper on his phone. She gagged.

On the other side of the school, Todoroki and a few others observed as hormone-filled, puberty-ridden guys surrounded the bulletin board with mouths drooling. The fire and ice hero was undoubtedly fending off fangirls of his own that morning, but Yaoyorozu’s solo advertisements were magnetizing crowds beyond his scope of understanding. Why UA decided to have these on full display was questionable.

“Midoriya, let’s eat lunch here today,” Todoroki uttered. The melon bread was slowly being punctured out of its misery in his grasp.

“Why? I thought we were just passing by to check out your shots, well more like Yaoyorozu’s shots.”

“I don’t know, I just think this would be a good spot.”

Resembling a human coagulation of darkness, Tokoyami shook his head, “Todoroki, there’s a whole assembly of people here. How is this a good spot.”

Todoroki didn’t take his question into account, and promptly sat down across from the bulletin board, chewing his food slowly. Kirishima shrugged and followed suit.

“Does it have something to do with Yaomomo’s posters?” Kaminari asked, lowering himself beside the Red Riot hero and followed Todoroki’s seemingly point blank gaze. Todoroki gritted his teeth whenever someone took their phones out to record their own Yaoyorozu memorabilia and gulped down the last bit of his bread.

“Wow, you ate so fast,” Kirishima noted as he scooped a pile of rice into his mouth and Todoroki mumbled an incoherent response. One particularly suspicious-looking boy started to pluck out the pins out of one of the posters in succession. His eyes reflected an accumulation of inconceivable lust and Todoroki jetted off his spot as if to lunge at him. His friends’ mouths were wide open, except for Tokoyami who acted like he predicted this, when the normally rational Todoroki pressed his hand hard against the dangling poster.

“You’re not allowed to take this,” his voice was serious but didn’t stop the boy from pulling.

“But there are so many anyways,” the boy commented casually, “Who’s to know? Plus this one is my favourite, look at how great her –”

Todoroki further deepened his voice and lifted his head,“ The posters are here for…educational purposes only.” He knew that was a long shot, but went on, “It’s called stealing. If you don’t put those pins back, I will physically make you.”

“Okay, why don’t you try?”

The crowd began to bustle, but no one had the nerves to step between them.

Kaminari exhaled and went to the commotion, “Hey, if you don’t put it back. I’ll let Aizawa sensei know and he’ll deal with you.” The boy swallowed hard at that. This first-year probably had his ass kicked by Aizawa once, by the looks of it.

“Uh…fine!” The little thief stuttered, “But…But—“

“Just get lost,” Todoroki spewed, eyes glaring indiscriminately, and the crowd began to disband.

Kaminari scoffed, “I just saved that kid from having frostbitten toes, didn’t I. Gotta give it to him though, what a brave soul to dare talk to you like this.”

The boy’s previously anger-plagued eyes softened, “Thanks, I don’t know what came over me. Just a sense of justice, probably.”

“Sure, justice,” Kirishima slogged over, a piece of rice stuck on the edge of his chin, “I feel like it’s more of another word that starts with a ‘j’…mmm…what could it be?”

“Jealousy?” Kaminari teased and they both chuckled. 

“Oh man, he’s not even denying it!” 

“Should we go now, or does Todoroki here wanna continue playing tower defense?” Tokoyami joined.

“Good one,” Kirishima high-fived the birdman as the latter did a lopsided grin. These guys were deadly when they’re together. Midoriya stifled a laugh too, but did not chime in, watching as Todoroki turned his back to them without even a hint of protest.

~~

“That…that happened?!” Yaoyorozu covered her face in embarrassment when Kirishima and Kaminari re-enacted the whole scene for her.

“Yeah and he was all like ‘oh my god I’ll kick you until you cried for your mommy’ and he looked so pissed, he had steam coming out of his ears!” Kirishima mocked and began to laugh hysterically.

Kaminari held his stomach in pain, “and I swear he was –“

A sudden chill creeped down both of their spines.

“Are you guys done?” Todoroki came out of the blue and glowered. Kaminari looked taken aback and pulled Kirishima to run for their lives, leaving the two alone to drown in discomfort amongst the quiet line of lockers.

Yaoyorozu fiddled with a piece of her bangs, “Thanks for doing the photo shoot the other day. If you’d like we could do another one? I was asked to do a car commercial.”

Todoroki still had an unreadable expression and she frowned, “or not…?”

He thought for a moment and considered her proposal, “Sure, I wouldn’t mind.” She nodded happily. Her hands fished inside her backpack, and pulled out something small enough to fit in her palm.

“Before I forget,” she held out her hand, “give me your wallet.”

The boy cocked an eyebrow but did as told. Yaoyorozu swiftly opened his bifold and slipped in the thing in hand. Curiously, he checked the inside when she returned it. At the front transparent pocket, was a photo of them, clad in skimpy swim wear and looking ecstatic.

“The studio gave us each a smaller version to keep,” she commented with a triumphant smile, “I hope you won’t lose it.”

“Mm, I’ll take good care of it,” he responded, “What Kaminari and Kirishima said, could you forget about it?” The last part was added to ease his conscience.

“Yeah of…of course! You did it out of the goodness of your heart! Those two were just joking!” She flopped her hand in the air to appeal for his approval and he relaxed. Watching as he stretched the muscles of his neck, she draped her bag over her shoulders.

“I have to go now,” she waved her hands, “see you tomorrow.”

“Wait, it’s getting dark. I’ll walk with you back to the dorm, Yaoyorozu.”

Her heart fluttered at the unexpected offer and followed his footsteps, walking in tandem.

It could be just her overactive imagination, but she had to admit, they did look amazing together.