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mjbunnyluv · 1 year

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The Scoop, Part 2

Summary: PH!Bakugou, QL!Izuku AU where they are estranged childhood friends and haven’t had contact in a little over a decade. As he couldn’t achieve his dreams of becoming a hero, Izuku has become a hero journalist instead. The entire hero community loves him, but as he becomes more popular, Izuku finds it harder and harder to avoid his former friend.

“Midoriya,” an excited squeal preceded the bubbly pro hero as she skipped down the hall.

“Pinky!” Izuku grinned at her arrival. He’d just finished setting up in one of the conference rooms at A-Chic, the acid heroine’s personal agency. This was not the first time he was interviewing her.

In fact, Pinky was one of his number one interviewees, her PR team giving him a call every few months for a new story. The bubble gum haired woman was extremely active in the community - hosting charity events and dinner parties, fundraisers and community nights. During his last interview, Izuku covered the breakdance battle she’d organized to raise money for underprivileged kids. With Mina’s infectious personality and Izuku’s top-tier journalism, the event was a huge success, meeting its goal and then some. The funds were used to build a youth center that provided free meals, tutoring services, and job placement opportunities to school aged kids in Greater Tokyo. And it also helped Pinky rise almost 10 spots in the hero charts.

“It’s so good to see you,” Mina giggled. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week!”

“Me, too,” the greenette nodded. “I know it’s only been five months since our last interview, but it feels like it’s been forever.”

“Ugh, tell me about it!” She waved her hand dramatically. “Seriously, though, a Pulitzer?!”

Izuku shrugged, a sheepish smile gracing his lips as a deep blush danced across his cheeks, the bronze freckles dotting his skin popping against the color. The announcement of his achievement last month had come as a huge surprise to Izuku. “I mean…I don’t really think I deser-”

“Nope!” She slapped a hand over his mouth, and emerald eyes bugged out wide with surprise. “None of that. You are the best, period! Deserving of any and all awards that come your way.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” he chuckled, pulling her palm away from his face.

Mina rolled her golden eyes, “Honey, there’s a reason you’re the only journalist I talk to.” Izuku cocked his head to the side. That couldn’t be right. He swore he’d seen a story from the Tokyo Journal only a couple weeks ago where she made comments about a recent villain fight. “Respect goes a long way, my friend, and most journalists are severely lacking. They all act like heroes owe them every second of their free time after a fight or a gala, or God forbid on our days off. My dude, all I want to do is take a damn breather, and you,” she pointed at the journalist with a big flourish of her wrist, “always make me feel like a person. Like I can be myself and not get judged for it, you know?”

“Well, that’s the goal,” Izuku grinned. “Glad to know I’m doing my job as I’ve always intended.”

“Seriously, though,” Mina sighed as she took a seat at the conference table. “You are our precious little bean and we will protect you at all costs!”

“Our? We?” The freckled man scrunched his nose as he tried to work out who she was talking about. He got situated in one of the rolling chairs and drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

“The hero community, silly!” The pinkette giggled, lightly slapping his wrist. “Actually, I was just talking to Ejirou the other day- you know, Red Riot – and we were thinking, how great would it be if you covered the upcoming Hero Billboard Chart? I mean, you’d have no problem interviewing anybody and since Dynamight is about to be named Number 1 it would be the perfect opportunity-”

“NO!” Izuku shouted. He clenched and unclenched his hands, cheeks burning crimson at his sudden outburst. Clearing his throat, the greenette stated very calmly, “S-sorry. What I meant to say was, I won’t be in town for the event. I’ve been asked to cover a story on the World Heroes’ Commission and I’ll be traveling to Switzerland during that time.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Mina slumped. “I was really hoping you’d be there. All the other reporters are so stuffy. You’re much more fun to talk to.”

Izuku let out a calming exhale. That was only a partial lie…he really was going to be in Switzerland covering the World Heroes’ Commission, but he hadn’t been asked. In reality, he’d begged for it. As a journalist who primarily covered all things heroes, Izuku always kept a close eye on the charts. And when it started trending that Dynamight would finally be achieving the highly coveted rank of Number 1 Hero, the greenette marched into his boss’s office and practically got on his knees to request that someone else cover the Hero Billboard Charts this season. Was he being a coward? Probably. But was he sufficiently relieved when his request was accepted? Absolutely.

Five years…five years Izuku had been conducting interviews after earning his Bachelor’s in Journalism. And in all that time, he had successfully avoided one hero in particular. Dynamight continued to be his current favorite hero, in fact, he had analyzed plenty of his former friend’s fights and published his excited ramblings on his fanboy blog - the one he ran under the pseudonym Deku. Izuku knew he wasn’t being slick, if anything, the explosive hero would know it was him right away from the old nickname he’d given the freckled boy when they were kids. But whenever it was brought up that the explosive hero was looking to schedule interviews for PR, Izuku made sure he was unavailable for the man’s requested time slot.

“S-So, what did you want to talk about today?” Izuku stuttered, looking over the notes he’d taken from the pinkette’s PR team. “A team up?”

“Mhmm, that’s right,” Mina perked up. “Well, it’s not the type of team up most people would be used to. Not in the traditional heroic sense anyway.”

“How would you classify it then?” he asked, recording device having been picking up everything since just before the heroine joined him. But in true old school fashion, Izuku just couldn’t get away from scribbling down bits of information and quotes in a notebook. There was just something so nostalgic about pen meeting paper. Or maybe it was just a safety blanket. He had been writing down thoughts since he learned how to read and write, and in all honesty, writing things down had saved his ass more than once after a power outage.

“Oh, it’s a burlesque show.”

Izuku’s hand stopped scribbling. Emerald eyes blinked at the page before slowly lifting to meet golden irises. “A what?”

“A burlesque show. You know, provocative dancing, short skirts, sensual music.” Mina moved her body in a smooth movement bringing attention to the cleavage just above the neckline of her costume.

Izuku gulped, “F-For charity, I presume?”

“You got it!” She winked. “And the list of participants is outstanding.”

“What are you raising money for this time?” Izuku’s hand resumed scratching down notes.

“Support for the victims of that villain attack a couple weeks ago. The one with Subterranean, you know that guy who caused 9.0 earthquakes, leveled three towns and killed almost 1,000 people.” Pinky leaned back, the chair groaning as she pressed into the seatback. “It was awful. And everything happened so fast that rescue attempts turned into recovering bodies. Sometimes this job weighs on you and you just can’t help but lie awake at night and think what if I was faster? What if I did x, y, or z differently? But I learned a long time ago that those kinds of thoughts don’t help anybody. So, instead I find ways to help the survivors, to do what I can in the aftermath.”

“I’m sure any kind of support would be appreciated right now. I’ve seen that nearby communities have been taking in families who've been displaced by the attack.” Izuku commented.

“Yeah, everyone is doing good things to help their neighbors. One of the things I’d like to do with the money we raise from this show is to build sustainable housing to shelter those who’ve been displaced, and offer free meals as well.” Mina nodded. “Our goal is set at 11 million Yen and I really think that’s achievable. Especially since a handful of agencies have agreed to match donations.”

“Oh really? That’s great! Which agencies?” Izuku’s hand was flying across the page, eyes flicking up every so often to engage with the heroine.

“The usuals,” she shrugged. “Nightcrawler, Creations Inc., Ingenium, Icy Hot.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a little community of your own,” the greenette chuckled. “I’ve been making the rounds with interviews lately and those are all the agencies that come up pretty frequently.”

“Eh, you make your alliances, and they really don’t change unless someone does something really off the rails,” she laughed. “Not surprised my little circle of besties are always hitting you up.”

“You mentioned the list of participants for the burlesque show is,” he flipped back a page, “outstanding. Care to share a few names of who we can expect to see on stage?”

“Oh definitely,” Mina grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye as she stretched forward to lean on her crossed forearms. “I mean, there’s the usual suspects…Nejire-chan, Uravity, myself obviously, then there’s Galeforce and Phantom Thief. Oh, and I can’t forget Illus-o-Camie. Plus, a few surprises. But I don’t want to give it all away, you know. Gotta leave some things to the imagination,” she winked.

“Of course. It’s not burlesque without intrigue, right?” Izuku chuckled as he made note of all the names Pinky had mentioned.

“See, you get it,” she laughed, slapping his wrist again. “You should really come. I think you’d have a great time, Midoriya. And it’s all for charity, so everyone will be in high spirits. Nothing makes people happier than doing good deeds and heroes showing some skin.”

He laughed remembering the nude calendar featuring the Top 15 heroes that was released last year. Pre-orders sold out in a matter of minutes and once they were released in stores, not a single retailer was able to keep them on the shelves. Even Izuku had a hard time getting his hands on one…he did, eventually and he was still ashamed of the amount of time he’d spent staring at April. Because damn, Kacchan was ripped and the picture was equal parts tasteful and risqué. Hero mask pushed onto his forehead and slicking back that explosion of blonde spikes, dark black kohl rimming his eyes and not a single bit of fabric in sight. Just a well-placed Dynamight gauntlet hiding the most scandalous bits. Izuku coughed to hide that he was getting a little hot and bothered just thinking about that calendar.

“I’ll think about it,” he told her, and he genuinely meant it.

“Good.” Mina gave a short nod. A sharp knock caught their attention at the door and a petite brunette appeared in the doorway. The woman was dressed in a colorful pantsuit, her hair braided and laying heavily over her shoulder. Izuku immediately recognized her as the head of Pinky’s PR team. “That time already, Kimi?”

“Afraid so,” she scrunched her nose, making the glitter sparkling across her cheeks dance under the fluorescent lights of the conference room. “Nice to see you again, Midoriya.”

Izuku gave a little wave and turned back to the heroine. “Well, I think I’ve got enough to write a highlight piece.”

Mina squealed and squirmed in her seat, “I know I can count on you to rally the masses.” She hopped out of her seat and gestured for the journalist to come over. “C’mere, I need to give you a hug.”

Used to her need to shower him in affection, Izuku smiled and stood. The second he was on his feet, the pinkette swooped in, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. And she only let go when he wheezed and patted her back. They pulled apart in a fit of giggles.

“You promise to try to make an appearance at the show?” Mina asked.

“I will do my best to clear my schedule,” Izuku nodded.

“Good, cuz I think you’ll really enjoy the final act,” she winked at him, and the journalist couldn’t help the look of confusion that washed over his face. Mina just laughed, that mischievous glint returning to her eyes. “See you later little bean!”

“Until next time, Pinky!” He waved, watching her skip out the door. As Izuku gathered up his notes and stopped the recording device, he couldn’t help but ponder what the heroine had up her sleeve. Knowing Mina, it was probably her just playing around like usual. And it wouldn’t be the first time she urged him to come out just to play wingwoman or to get him drunk off his ass. Well, whatever it was, Izuku was intrigued.

#mha #bnha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #katsuki bakugo #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #estranged childhood friends #childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers #cute izuku #ashido mina #mha bakugou #mha midoriya #interviews #pro hero au #pro hero bakugou #quirkless midoriya izuku #quirkless discrimination

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paperultra · 2 days

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HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)

(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)

Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck's Wife!Reader Word Count: 2,499 words Warnings: None Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you're too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they're too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much ... so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance. You reluctantly agree. read on ao3 | read on quotev

DATE #1: CASUAL LUNCH Estranged husband — 1 Estranged wife — 1 Everything left unsaid — as desired

There’s bacon grease on his shirt.

You can see it underneath his collar, round fingerprints staining the pale linen grey, and when he leans across the threshold into Fler’s home all you can think about is laundry day at the end of the week.

It would be rude to admit that out loud, though.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say.

“When can I see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

Abelwood teeters forward still. “Well, don’t take too long, hear? You ain’t gettin’ any younger.”

Laughter erupts from the beer in his gut, and you laugh along with him. Abelwood is a rowdy drunk, you’ve learned, which is better than a cruel drunk or a lecherous drunk. It is not the kind of drunk that you are used to bringing home, even if he is only brought to the front door, but –

You smile, regardless.

“Goodnight,” you bid, closing the door inch by inch, your last bit of energy disappearing with the click of the lock.

You hold your breath. It takes three minutes and thirty-seven seconds for the man to leave your front doorstep, and you wait thirty more seconds after that to peek through the window, verifying that he is far enough away before resting your forehead against the door with a groan.

“Oh, boy.”

“I’m too old for this, Fler,” you mutter into the wood. “He was awful.”

Flertom lets out a sigh and closes the distance to squeeze you in a hug, pressing her cheek against your back like she’s done ever since she grew tall enough to do so. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she says.

“I’m sorry too.”

As you pat her hands and turn around to smile wryly at her, Puckpatti pipes up from the middle of the living room.

“He was a pig,” she exclaims. “Calling you by your first name! And he wasn’t even that handsome!”

“Looks aren’t everything, Puck,” you reply sharply, and she pouts, squeezing the lump of clay in her hands until it squishes out between her fingers. “He was a pig for the way he acted.”

“Well … that too.”

“He also smelled like one,” Fler says.

You detach yourself from your daughter to loosen the belt at your waist, frowning down at your dress and nice leather shoes. The dress feels just about as worn out as you do, the fabric soft and droopy from the humidity, the sunshine-yellow color less vibrant than it had been earlier this evening. The man had spilled beer on the floor of the bar and your shoes still look slightly sticky. Peeling them off just reminds you of the way he had laughed.

“Fler,” you say, “get me a wet rag, would you?”

“Sure, Mama.” Flertom turns to Puckpatti. “Puck, get a wet rag.”

“My hands are all dirty!” your youngest protests, showing her grey palms. “Mei’s closer to the water bucket.” She points to Meijack, who you now notice lingering by the kitchen.

Meijack blinks slowly, then silently fetches a rag, wets it, and brings it to you.

“Are you gonna keep trying, Ma?” she asks while you scrub the heel of your left shoe. “All these guys seem to be wasting your time.”

The chuckle that leaves your mouth is short and dry. “After this one, I don’t think so.” You glance up at your daughters and smile, straightening. “Maybe I should just take you all out on a girls’ date next time, huh? Forget about men for a little while.”

Meijack shrugs. Puckpatti nods eagerly.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong,” Flertom frets. “I’ve seen most of them at work before, and they seemed nice enough even when they were drunk …”

You shrug hopelessly and cross into the living room to sit on the couch. “Maybe it’s me.” As you lean back into the cushions, Meijack and Flertom join you on either side. “I’ve only ever been with one man my whole life. Maybe I don’t even know what I want …”

There’s a moment of silence. You look up at the ceiling of Flertom’s home, rubbing your temples and willing your frustration with yourself to not spill over while your daughters are watching. How embarrassing. Here you are, their mother, who is supposed to show them an example of a happy relationship, only for them to comfort you after another failed date. It should be the other way around. Half-foots don’t live long enough for things like this; your own mother had told you when you first left him that you should’ve just sucked it up.

Finally, Flertom speaks up. “Mama,” she starts, hesitant, and you look over to see her playing with her fingers, “Do you really want to date someone?”

“It’s been long enough, don’t you think?” you answer.

As you say so, a name resurfaces in your mind, unbidden, and the face that belongs to it. Your jaw tightens and you look down at your hands.

“Well … um … Papa wrote last week, and he said that he wanted to talk to you sometime. Just a little bit.”

Your tone hardens. “And what does that have to do with me dating, Fler?”

She flinches and her lips push out. “Come on, Mama! It’s been years, and after everything he went through, I really think he’s better now! Don’t you at least want to talk to him? You were so in love with each other before he started adventuring, and now that he’s retired from it …”

You hold your hand up, and her jaw clicks shut.

“I know what you’re getting at, Flertom,” you say quietly. “And right now is not the best time to bring up your father.”

Your daughter deflates, her cheeks rosy. “But –”

“I mean it.” Standing, you heave a deep breath and examine the cluttered workstation that Puckpatti had set up on the living room table. “Puckpatti, make sure to clean up after you’re done. I’m going to bed.”

While the girls mope, you head to your bedroom, doing your best to occupy your thoughts with work at the blacksmith’s tomorrow. You think about the chain mail you’re supposed to be making, the little metal rings to form and weave together, and hope they’re what you dream of, not self-absorbed dates or unwanted kisses.

You blame Flertom for the auburn hair and hearty laughs that plague your night instead.

—

A week later, Puckpatti accosts you as soon as you walk through the door.

“Mama, I found a man for you!”

“Oh?” you reply blandly, hand still clutching at your chest from having the living daylights scared out of it. “Who is it?”

“That’s a secret! But he’s really nice, I promise.”

Sighing, you remove your vest. “I don’t know, Puck. How did you meet him?”

“He bought one of my clay sticks.” You can’t stop yourself from frowning, despite your desire to support your daughter’s entrepreneurial spirit, and she giggles. “Oh, please, Mama, he didn’t believe my pitch. I think I just charmed him into buying it. He seems really clever!”

“Are you sure he wasn’t interested in you?”

She makes a disgusted face. “Eww! No, I told him about you and he seemed interested.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mama, you’re a catch. Of course he’d want to go on a date with you.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” You glance at her before heading to the kitchen to put away the bread and cheese you’d bought. “Is he a half-foot?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought I’d met all the half-foots in Kahka Brud.”

“Maybe he just moved here.”

She looks up innocently when you raise an eyebrow at her. “And you’re sure I’ll like him,” you drawl, more suspicious by the minute. (Of what, you’re not quite sure.)

“Positive.”

It is incredibly difficult, you think with equal parts pride and concern, to say no to your youngest daughter. It’s probably why you worry about her the most. “This is the last date I’ll go on, Puckpatti. It will be on you.”

Puckpatti cheers. She hugs you as you chuckle at her enthusiasm, jumping up and down. “Yay! I’ll get a time and day that’ll work best. It’ll be great! You’ll love him!”

“For your sake, I hope so.”

—

The day arrives with a mellow sun and clear sky.

You wear your green dress with the floral details, and Puckpatti picks a necklace to go along with it, a thin, simple one that you haven’t worn in years. Flertom does your makeup and Meijack does your hair.

And as you sit in a corner of the tavern fifteen minutes early, hands nervously clasped in your lap, you wonder, just as you have with every date prior, what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Maybe he won’t show up. It would be improper, and juvenile, but then you could go home and say that you did try. Your desire for a new romance has all but dwindled completely, and as you trace the scratches on the wooden table, you wonder if it was even a desire at all.

Footsteps approach from behind. You can tell they belong to a half-foot by the weight and sound – light and small – as they come around to the other side of the table. Your shoulders tighten. Forcing a smile, you look up.

Your heart promptly surges upward into your throat before plummeting to your toes.

Chilchuck gawks down at you, eyes wide. His mouth parts to utter your full name, and you feel your lungs squeeze at how it sounds coming from him, soft from years of disuse.

“You came,” he says.

“Chil – Chilchuck.” His name is ashy and sweet behind your teeth. “What are you doing here?”

He furrows his brow. “What do you mean? The girls said that you were willing to meet up.”

“No, I’m meeting with one of Puck’s customers.”

“What? That doesn’t …” he trails off, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing at the same time.

You bury your head in your hand as Chilchuck grits his teeth.

Those scheming …

“I’m sorry they dragged you into this,” you mutter as you get up from your seat, your voice cold and flat. “I’ll be going now.”

His head snaps up. “Going? But –”

You hurry past him, dodging the hand that you know has reached out for your own.

Home is a ten-minute walk away. You can clear your head in that time, then scold your daughters for meddling, though it’s partially your fault for not questioning Puckpatti about your supposed date more thoroughly. You just didn’t think that they would try something like this.

(Or that Chilchuck would bother to go along with it.)

You pull the door open with some effort and rush out into a downpour of rain.

Your hair gets drenched before you backpedal with a yelp. Pressing against the wall underneath the awning, you look out helplessly at the soaked streets, their gutters already filling with water and debris flowing down the incline. Is … is that a drowning rat?

The storm’s earthiness floods your nose, late in its prediction by half an hour. Just your luck.

You fumble with the clasp of your necklace to remove it, not wanting to get it wet. While you struggle, the tavern door creaks open behind you.

“So you don’t even want to talk. Even after all these years, you’re going to walk away again.”

“Do you know why I walked away the first time?” The damn thing won’t unhook. You scowl, the presence at your back making your usually nimble fingers clumsy.

“No,” Chilchuck says. “I don’t. Not for certain.”

“That’s why.” With each failed attempt to separate the rings, your fingertips grow sorer, your throat thickening. He’s too close. You hate how he’s watching you fail such a simple task. “You stopped knowing, Chilchuck. That’s why.”

Underneath the sharp sound of rain, you can hear his breath hitch, then quiet.

You bite your lip and let your arms fall to your sides, giving up on trying to take your necklace off. Your chest aches. You don’t want to cry in front of him.

“So, there, we talked like you wanted.”

He stops you before you can step out into the rain.

“Wait. What … what about your necklace?” he asks hesitantly, like it’s not what he really wants to say, but merely a way to stall for time.

This time, you look over your shoulder at him. “I’ll dry it real well once I get home,” you reply.

Chilchuck’s mouth presses into a fine line. He grabs the cloak folded over the crook of his elbow, and it is then that you notice the bouquet of blue and pink flowers in his other hand. The ache in your chest flares into a raw, pulsing hurt.

“I’m guessing you’d rather not have me walk you.” He speaks evenly, holding his cloak out towards you. “It’s not completely waterproof, but keep this over your head, at least …” his voice quiets, “please.”

Wordlessly, you take the garment from him. The inner lining is warm against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “For not knowing.” His fist tightens around the flowers, and he stares at you resolutely. “I want to again, if you’ll let me.”

Ah.

You swallow. “I … I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t have to be today. I can wait.”

Breaking eye contact and looking down, Chilchuck roughs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. The cut is the same as it’s always been, auburn bangs thick and soft over his brow. And you recognize the shirt he’s wearing, a practical, clean wool shirt that you made some years ago. He’s taken good care of it.

It’s all the same. All the same, and yet, something that you can’t quite identify has changed.

You bring his cloak closer to your chest and bite your bottom lip.

“… Give me a week.”

His entire body loses its tension.

“Really?” He looks at you like he can’t believe it, and you avert your gaze, ears warming and moving back the slightest bit.

“Give me a week to decide,” you clarify. “Fler or Mei will let you know … this is really abrupt, after all …”

Chilchuck nods. “That’s fine!” he exclaims. “You didn’t know, so I understand. A week is – a week’s good.”

You nod back, hesitant.

The rain continues its heavy downpour.

“Right … well …” you turn slightly, casting him one last glance, “I’ll give your cloak back, regardless. Don’t get sick.”

“Okay. Stay … stay safe.”

With that, you wrap yourself in the thick fabric, rushing out of the safety of the awning. The run back home smells of woodsmoke and thyme, and when you open the door to three guilty daughters and three apologies, it lingers.

You hang his cloak near the fireplace. It’s evidence of a weak resolve that you stay until it’s dry, and even more damning that you know your answer long before it is.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuk tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck #dungeon meshi fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #my emotional support middle-aged divorced father of three.......#throw this guy in a childhood friends to lovers to estranged lovers to lovers fic and see how he handles it #chilchuck's wife!reader let's gooooo

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ferrouswheel11 · 4 months

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Since it's the time of year and all...

Ace Attorney AU where Tim becomes a lawyer in order to figure out what the hell happened to Jason Todd. He used to look up to Jason, but then he disappeared and now everyone is saying he's become cruel, willing to go to any lengths to convict criminals. When Prosecutor Todd is unexpectedly arrested for murder, Tim and his 'assistant' Stephanie uncover a plot hatched by Head Prosecutor Al Ghul, Jason's own adopted father, to manipulate Jason into taking the fall for his own crimes.

#i'm just saying it fits becoming a lawyer just to force your way into your estranged childhood friend's life is 100% something tim would do #damian is franziska obviously #dick is mia but... not dead #tim drake #jason todd #batman #ace attorney #batfam #or could be #jaytim

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nonbinarycollector · 11 months

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thought about snowgrave and the idea of there being a noelle boss fight too hard

#deltarune #noelle holiday #kris dreemurr #snowgrave #described #safe utdr #star art #what if we were semi-estranged childhood friends and you had to kill me to free us both of the entity possessing me

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gaminegay · 9 months

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Holy shit the cinnamon togaphry in my dreams

#alda rambling #I'm gonna call my estranged childhood friend and put up my photo wall and not do drugs #If that wasn't a cosmic sign idk what would be #My dreams this morning was war crimes and massive death. Whatba turnaround

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swanqueensalad · 1 month

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THE MAGICAL REGENCY ERA SAPPHICS WON!!!!

Y'ALL

go watch demons and daughters on youtube (& follow the DamselsInDicestress on twitch for early access to new episodes) if you want to see these absolutely heartwrenching regency era, estranged childhood best friends teenage lesbians embark on a harrowing and chaotic adventure, uncover a demonic underworld, and desperately yearn for one another the whole time.

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vigilante-izuku · 1 year

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i’m the biggest sucker for arranged marriages aus. i live for that slow burn and mutual pining and i was thinking about a battinson au where when you were kids, it was basically planned that you and bruce would get married. your families decided it.

but then of course the waynes get murdered. and suddenly you don’t hear from bruce for a very long time. the “engagement” is assumed to be called off....

but then, years later, bruce reaches out to you.

he wants to honor his and yours parents wishes and asks you to marry him...

#eri's ideas #battinson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #rpatz batman x reader #i know i already have an arranged marriage with battinson idea #but...i just think this would also be interesting #like childhood friends to estranged to MARRIAGE #you agree of course #and then y'all grow closer #and actually fall in love #and you of course find out about batman

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wen-ning · 8 months

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not to uhhh be weird but has anyone done a frozen au for wangxian. like it would have to be very loose obviously but i think lwj would suit elsa rly well

#LOCK HIS ASS UP!!!!!#wwx in anna’s role but like. from Outside the castle or whatever?? estranged childhood friends #turn out to just be two weird little guys doin their best #wangxian

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psy-ay-ay · 5 months

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they haven't even told me the rukia renji past story and i am already getting sucked in

#yesss fight for rukia because you both love her so much #okay but like renji loving rukia so much but he CAN'T go against soul society so the only thing he can do for rukia is kill the guy that go #her into this position and ichigo loving rukia so much that he HAS TO SAVE HER because she is there because of him #also i am such a sucker for the childhood friends to estranged (sorta or enemies or ripped apart by something you get it) trope #so i was waiting on my knees for the rukia renji backstory #yes yes i started watching bleach for ichiruki but did you see the ethereal way renji saw rukia visions when he collapsed #idk man i am having fun #ichigo kurosaki #renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #renruki #<- just for book keeping #bleach live watch #bleach #also the soundtrack is just so good for me #ep 32

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mjbunnyluv · 1 year

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The Scoop, Part 1

PH!Bakugou, QL!Izuku AU where they are estranged childhood friends and haven’t had contact in a little over a decade. As he couldn’t achieve his dreams of being a hero, Izuku has become a hero journalist instead. The entire hero community loves him, but as he becomes more popular, Izuku finds it harder and harder to avoid his former friend.

Izuku had always admired Kacchan, from their first meeting all the way up til now, even if they’d lost touch after middle school graduation. All he’d ever dreamed about was being a hero, to fight villains alongside Kacchan with his amazing quirk. But the world hadn’t been so kind. Izuku had tried to get into UA, had gone to the entrance exam only to get knocked out after the first five minutes and be dragged away by medical staff. But Kacchan had gotten in, with the highest score on the exam…like he’d be anything less than perfect.

So, while Katsuki worked hard to be a hero, to live out their dream for the both of them – even if the blonde refused to acknowledge Izuku’s dreams - the greenette went to a boring high school, where he got a boring education. And while school was boring, Izuku never stopped dreaming about what could have been. In the first couple months of high school, the freckled boy had gone so far as to knock on Katsuki’s front door just to ask what it was like being at UA. He’d gotten chased away with the threat of the blonde’s quirk. But no matter how much distance grew between them, Izuku never stopped admiring his Kacchan.

Three months after high school graduation, Pro Hero Dynamight was already featured in magazine articles, nighttime talk shows, and he’d even given the opening speech at the annual hero gala that summer. Izuku soaked up every bit of information, always too nervous to reach out after their long, rocky history, but still rooting for his favorite hero. Well, technically All Might was his favorite hero, but in light of the icon’s retirement, Dynamight now filled that role.

At the end of his rookie year, Dynamight had risen into the Top 100 on the Hero Charts. And with that fame came a constantly revolving door of PR events, galas, interviews, and conventions. Izuku had bought tickets to the Hero Convention in Tokyo that Autumn, including a pass for a photo op with the explosive hero, but he chickened out at the last second, unable to imagine a reunion where he wasn’t called some belittling name as the blonde threatened him with the bright pops and crackles in his palms. That was almost 30,000 Yen down the drain.

Three years out of high school, Kacchan fought villains and Izuku fought deadlines. The greenette was so close to finishing his bachelor’s in journalism. If he couldn’t fight alongside the heroes, then he’d work to tell their stories, to show the world the real person behind the costume. In the years Izuku followed the news coverage and social media frenzy around Pro Hero Dynamight, he’d realized that so many idolized heroes to the point of completely ignoring reality. While teenagers screamed about how handsome and fierce Dynamight was, going so far as to come up with ridiculous realities concerning his sex life and personality, Izuku knew the truth…well somewhat. He knew the middle school version of the angry blonde, not the pro hero version. But he still felt like he knew his childhood friend far better than the person next to him. And if most of what was circulating around the internet about Dynamight was just rumors and fallacies, then what did that say about other heroes? Who were they? What did people get wrong about them? Izuku wanted to tell their stories, the most honest version that really offered a glimpse into their world and not the silly reconstruction horny teenagers created on the internet.

Just two more months and Izuku would be walking across that stage to receive his degree, beaming out into the crowd as he found his mother’s teary emerald eyes. But first, he had to finish these damn papers. One on the history of quirks and the development of heroism as a career track, the other on the unethical treatment of the quirkless individuals in a society that equated quirks with value. Normally, Izuku could talk for hours on either subject, but today, he just could not focus. Not while the cafe he’d set up in streamed a news channel playing the current fight between Dynamight and some villain with a water-based quirk.

The way the explosive hero moved, so much more refined than when they were kids, was just incredible – body twisting out of the way of blasts of liquid, moving so fast the cameras could barely keep up. Izuku felt like he was 12 years old again, mesmerized by his best friend turned bully. He’d always known Katsuki was a hero at heart. He just had a lot of things he needed to work through emotionally and watching him now, the way Dynamight put himself between the villain and nearby civilians protectively, every movement made with confidence, Izuku just knew his childhood friend had risen above his old insecurities. It made his heart flutter and stomach twist with an emotion he thought he’d gotten over a long time ago.

The fight was over a few minutes later when Pro Hero Shouto appeared, freezing every drop of water the villain released, giving Dynamight the opening he needed. And while the police gathered the wrongdoer, the news cameras continued to focus on the heroes. The icy hot hero’s face was schooled into one of boredom as the explosive blonde laid into him, no doubt telling the other hero he had the situation under control. Izuku let out a short huff of a laugh. Okay maybe Kacchan hadn’t changed that much.

“Earth to Midoriya,” a feminine voice called to him, hand waving in front of the emerald eyes that had been staring off into space for the last few minutes.

He blinked rapidly, the ginger haired woman coming into focus. “Hi, Kendo,” Izuku smiled.

“Don’t give me that,” she scoffed. “What were you thinking about? You had that serious look on your face, like you were trying to solve all the world’s problems in one train of thought.”

A blush burned at his freckled cheeks. “It wasn’t anything that serious. Just thinking…about a lot of things. And trying to finish these damn papers.”

Kendo grinned, “Well, once you graduate and are working at the most prestigious of jobs, I better be the first pro you interview.”

“Deal,” Izuku chuckled. “I’m gonna need a lot of recommendations once I’m working in the field. I mean, what pro hero is gonna want to talk to a greenhorn journalist?”

“Eh, I don’t think you’ll have nearly as much trouble finding willing participants as you think you will,” the ginger woman shrugged. “Besides, you’ve got me and Shinsou to put in a good word for you.”

“I really don’t know what I’d do without you guys,” the greenette sighed.

An enlarged hand moved across the table, and the heroine’s index finger jabbed him in the forehead. “You need to have more confidence in yourself, Sir.”

“Stop that!” He hissed, cheeks bright red as curious eyes watched from around the cafe. “People are staring.”

“Yeah, cuz they can’t get enough of heroes!” she giggled. “And neither can you. So, finish your papers, get your degree and come find me when you’re ready to ask me all about my life story.”

“Diva,” Izuku huffed under his breath.

“Stay out of trouble,” Kendo said, giving him a pointed look as she stood. “No more running into danger for ‘research purposes.’”

He waved her off, “I haven’t done that in like a year.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Izuku turned his eyes back to his laptop, throwing his focus back into his work, and completely ignoring his friend’s stare. She sighed and emerald eyes flashed up to catch Kendo with her hands on her hips.

“Just promise me you’re taking care of yourself,” Kendo demanded.

“I am,” Izuku nodded. “I eat…most days. And I have a semi-regular sleep schedule now.”

The ginger woman rolled her vibrant blue eyes and huffed an exasperated sigh. “Fine. I know I can’t smack you around and yell at you to take care of yourself, but I really want to.”

The greenette laughed, “That wouldn’t be very heroic.”

“It would be if it kept you from killing yourself.”

It was Izuku’s turn to roll his eyes, “I’m not that bad.” He took a deep breath, “But I promise to take care of myself. Only a couple months left and then I can get a better paying job and actually afford food that isn’t of the instant variety.”

Kendo snorted. “Alright. I’m gonna hold you to that, Mister.” A device clipped onto the hem of her jeans beeped and she hit a button to silence it. “Gotta run. See you later!” And before Izuku could yell back, she was out the door.

The greenette sighed and threw himself back into work mode, trying his best to ignore the curious stares from the other patrons in the cafe. The cursor blinked against the blank page, mocking him. The television above the counter played the interview between a reporter and Dynamight in the aftermath of the villain attack. Though there was no sound, Izuku still found himself captivated by the calm demeanor in which the pro hero answered every question. Maybe one day, he’d get to find out who the real Dynamight is – not the angry middle school version, or struggling high school version the news stations and media outlets liked to berate and criticize, but the calm and confident man that now graced magazine covers and spoke at charity functions. Izuku swallowed, Why’d you have to go and grow up without me, Kacchan?

#izuku midoriya #bakudeku #quirkless izuku #pro hero bakugou #estranged childhood friends #mutual pining #everyone loves izuku #journalism #discrimination of quirkless #introduction #mha #bnha #bnha midoriya

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