Welcome to the studio! My name is Monet and I'll be your instructor this evening. We offer many classes, including but not limited to: random fandom ramblings, self ships, and whatever else I deem worthy of my studio.
Classes Offered:
About Me | Before You Follow | Masterlist | Selfships | Tags
DNI: minors, haters of marginalized peoples, bullies
there's this weird thing people fall into online a lot, where people assume that if the [perceived-to-be-inferior] version of [activity] is discouraged then people will, naturally, do [perceived-to-be-superior] version of [activity] instead. When really it's just as (or more) likely that if [perceived-to-be-inferior] version of [activity] is discouraged people just won't do it at all.
audiobook listeners are not necessarily people who would otherwise do a lot of traditional reading if audiobooks did not exist, many are people who simply would experience zero books. Booktok romance readers would not necessarily be reading the classics if booktok did not exist, many of them would simply not read. Fanfiction writers would not necessarily be novelists if fanfic wasn't an option, many would just be people who didn't write. You know?
On Saturday I said to my partner, as I have said for months, "A ten thousand dollar a year raise would solve so many of my problems."
As of this morning I was reluctantly looking for jobs because I love my job and don't want to leave it, but see: $10k raise problem solver.
As of noon today this was no longer an issue, because my boss called me with the news that I was getting a $10K merit raise.
I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. This is roughly $200 extra per paycheck. Enough to pay off debt faster, rebuild my savings, and spend a weekend a month in Milwaukee getting obscenely laid. The sex I'm going to have on $200 extra per paycheck. You can't even.
May all of you get the $10K raise your soul has yearned for. And whatever level of sex you can be satisfied with for $200.
f/o who would kill for you — who does kill for you — who comes to the crushing realization that you will probably run, but instead you gaze at them with such tenderness because they are that devoted to you that they just committed a horrible act in the name of protecting you
synopsis: waking up in a prison cell wasn’t the interplanetary welcome you were expecting. this hero they’ve sent to question you is the most welcomed distraction though.
info: hey! this is heavily inspired by SUPERGIRL! if you haven’t seen it, it’s still easy to read. me and aali watched it and whilst the credits were rolling i told her this idea. different to what i usually write but i enjoyed :) this is probably going to be a one shot.
bakugou katsuki hates this part of his job. he finds it incredibly boring, uneventful and somewhat like those detective movies his mother watches in the evening. he’s not a detective or a police officer, he’s a pro hero built for the streets, fighting real villains. not in the foreign governmental holding cell with the purpose of asking questions, while the person in it has anti-quirk handcuffs on. so fucking boring. at least take the handcuffs off them, give him a real challenge.
bakugou barges into the cell, shoulder first into the iron heavy windowless door and the first thing he does is sigh. he crosses his arms across his chest and he flicks his eyes over the room. grey brick walls, square room, a metal toilet in the corner and a thin mattress on the floor. it’s the same as every other high risk room in this prison.
minus you, the woman he’s supposed to be talking to. bakugou frowns, a low unimpressed huh leaving his throat. he was told he’d be dealing with an alien here but from what he can see of you, hugging your arms to your chest on the floor, head resting on your knees… you look human. like him. two arms, two legs. he needs to check your face when you look up but otherwise, there’s nothing particularly alien-like about you and bakugou’s met many aliens before.
apparently you haven’t spoken to anyone in three days. police have tried, detectives and doctors. they decided he’d be the next step in case you end up being violent.
“fuck, how does it go?” he mutters to himself, shutting the squeaking door behind him. “hate this shit.”
you don’t move at the sound of his voice but your handcuffs glow green around your wrists. you’re in the same orange jumpsuits as everyone else in this building. bakugou’s a fan of the colour.
“my name is dynamight, i’m a hero here on earth. i’ve gotta ask you a couple questions ‘cause protocol and shit. we dunno who you are, why you’re here or what you can do. the quicker we get this done, the quicker we both can go home.”
it’s the mention of home that gets your attention. you lift your head up off your legs and you turn to face the man who’s taking up more space than necessary in your cell.
as bakugou gasps, you snigger.
what the hell is this guy wearing? those wings by his head? are the height of those boots to compensate for something else?
you’re definitely human looking. two sparkly eyes, a nose in the centre of your face. nobody told him the alien was beautiful. fucking stunning.
he wants to go home now, he’s not prepared to be speaking to a woman like you after a ten hour shift. fuck, he doesn’t think he ever would be.
bakugou clears his throat. he stands up straight and tightens his arms across his chest.
“you’re very… fuck, anyway,” he’s so goddamn embarrassing.
you start laughing, these light buttery giggles that feel like they’re breathing air into bakugou’s lungs. your eyes brighten, you even lean back on the wall like you’re taking a better look at him. he feels your eyes travel from his boots to the top of his head.
thank god this man has a pretty face, or at least he would if he stopped frowning because this outfit he’s wearing looks stupid. does anyone else on this planet dress like this?
you’re laughing… and it feels like it’s at him instead of with him. he knows he didn’t say anything funny.
“do you not know english? they always say i need to speak english for this shit.” he grunts, scratching his head.
damn, he’s finding it hard to even look at you directly. the orange compliments you, makes your skin glow, makes you— stay focused.
“i doubt you’re gonna know any japanese. d’you understand me now?” he tries and he sees the frown on your face. confusion.
“ah, so you understand english. you just don’t want to talk to me.” he punctuates by jabbing his thumb into his chest and then leaning on the wall behind him.
you roll your eyes, which only gets bakugou grinning, then he calms down. he doesn’t need to be reacting like he won the lottery over a reaction from you.
“what’s your name?”
nothing. you blankly stare at his face.
“why are you here?”
nothing.
“c’mon just say somethin’ so i have somethin’ to say to them outside. then you get to go back home.”
you swallow, resting your head in your palm.
“this is an odd planet. a traveller lands and you immediately arrest them, deprive them of sunlight and dignity,” you nod your head towards the toilet in the corner of the room, “treating me like a criminal.”
you’ve got an accent. one he can’t place from anywhere specific on earth. it sounds almost melodic, easy to understand and very clear.
“so the alien talks,” dynamight, you think he introduced himself as earlier, says amused, “you fell from the sky, at a speed none of us has seen before. it was so fast, not even our meteorologists caught it. then you came out of this metal-like sphere that isn’t quite metal, they’re still workin’ that out, in a coma. not to mention you set alight the fields you landed in, causing a wildfire through acres and acres of land.”
bakugou squints at you, “you can see why we’d have a fuck load of questions, right?”
you look away from him. fuck. you were told the earth on this planet would have been able to handle your ship, not that you’d start a wildfire.
“i didn’t… i didn’t hurt anyone, did i?”
bakugou’s quick to shake his head, “no, the farmer ushered out all the animals in time. though you did destroy a families hundred year old strawberry farm.”
“shit.” you mutter, in your language. then in english, “i’ll help them as soon as i’m out of here.”
there’s a hero complex to you somewhere. hm. “and to get out of here, answer my questions. yeah?”
you sigh, “what do you want dynamo?”
bakugou’s face scrunches like a ball of paper, “dynamight. my name is dynamight.”
“is it actually? earth names didn’t sound like that when i researched.”
“it’s my fuckin’ hero name, i said that in my introduction at the beginnin’— you know what, never mind. call me dynamight. nothin’ else.”
you blink at him.
“what’s your name?” he tries.
he really wants to know your name. not for the sake of government purposes, just for himself.
“that’s personal, isn’t it?” you laugh but dynamight raises his eyebrows.
“not at all actually,” he breathes, equally restless and intrigued, “quick or we’ll be here all goddamn day.”
“you swear a lot, don’t you? is that normal?”
that catches bakugou off guard, he leans off the wall. “hah? you’re not askin’ me questions, woman. i’m doin’ the askin’.”
you chuckle, loud and sweet. “okay, okay! my name is yn.”
“yn,” he likes the sound of it on his lips, though it’s even better from yours, “yn where are you from?”
“why are you dressed like that?”
bakugou looks down at himself. he’s always been voted highly for best dressed hero. his black body suit, black and orange chunky boots. he’s got his wings at his shoulders. he doesn’t have his gauntlets on though, he doesn’t need them for this.
“this is my hero suit. how many times do i have to tell you, i’m a professional hero—.”
“hero,” you try, “is that your version of a protector? looking after civilians? the strongest of the people?”
bakugou can’t help but let his grin slip. he likes the sound of that. it’s all true. “y-yeah i am. currently third on the charts but i jump between one and two, so technically i’m the best in the country.”
you do an upside down smile, somewhat impressed. so this man is one of the strongest and cocky about it. his grin is cute too. his lips stretch wider, only one corner rising. a gold tooth shining. okay, his smirk is sexy.
“family must be proud.”
“they expected it,” he shrugs. wow, is it easy to get off topic with you. “any quirks?”
“quirks?”
“abilities different to the average.”
you scrunch your nose, “not that i know of.”
bakugou doesn’t know if he can trust you. “so if i took those handcuffs off you, nothing about you would change?”
honestly no. your body feels fine. mentally, not so much.
you snap the handcuffs apart, the middle chain breaking with ease, now appearing as two ugly grey bracelets on your wrists as the green glow slowly dies down. bakugou jumps at the sound, jaw dropping on command.
“what the fuck?” bakugou can’t even get out of those. he’s tried before in hero training. what are you? “why the hell didn't you get out of them before?”
“i…”
you’ve never experienced grief before and to experience it on the scale you are now... your parents, your family, your people, your home. all gone. you don’t think you wanted to break out of it yet.
“had other things on my mind,” you offer, looking up at this dynamight man. “what’s your… quirk?”
something about him is comforting. with those boots on, he’s as big as the men back home. just as wide too.
so to get information out of you, he has to give a little back. that’s okay for now.
“i sweat nitroglycerin. can create explosions from my hands,” he gives you a little show, facing his palms up to the ceiling and creating little sparks.
that gets you facing him, now cross legged on the floor. you sound like a child, brimming with curiosity. you don’t recognise the word nitroglycerin but you can assume. “how big can you make them?”
bakugou chuckles to himself, slowly sinking to sit down too. “question for question then. so it’s my turn now.”
you huff, “fine.”
have you showered in these three days? you look as if you have. a beautiful glow like those women in skincare adverts he sees.
“how old are you?” not the most important question, but he’s got to know. they couldn’t have gotten a more selfish hero to question you.
“fifty moon shines,” you say without a beat. “how old are you? wait, let me see your explosions!”
“woah, woah, hold on. fifty?” you either look good for your age or—, “how are years measured where you’re from?”
“182 days. isn’t it my turn to ask a question?”
“how long are your days?”
“twenty three hours.”
bakugou relaxes. you’re the same age as him.
“so you’re twenty five.”
“i just said i’m fifty.”
“to me that’s like you’re sayin’ you're a hundred in your time. you’re twenty five in this world, darlin’.”
“darling? what’s that?”
bakugou shakes his head. shouldn’t have said that. “nothin’. i’m twenty six.”
that pleases you for some reason. you both stare at each other for a few seconds, sizing the other up. you could take him in a fight you think. in bed too, if it came down to it.
“how big can you make your sweat explosions?”
bakugou winces. what an ugly name. “they’re not sweat explosions.” “but you said—,” “the size of buildings. could blow this whole building up. can also fly, use them as grenades, blind opponents, shoot them like a gun.”
he’s sharing too much now. you shouldn’t be telling your enemies your main attacks. it’s going to be a beautiful woman to take him down. that tarot reader kaminari took him to was right.
“that’s really cool, dynamight. i can’t do that.”
you sound honest, real. bakugou bends his knees and rests his arms on top. “it’s whatever. what can you do?”
you shrug, looking at your bare hands. there’s some dirt under your nails and they’re all chipped from your lack of basic essentials. “where i’m from, everyone is the same so i don’t know how different i am to you guys.”
bakugou gets that, “what’s the most you can lift—,”
“my turn now, hero. why’re you so pissy?” you ask, tilting your head at him.
bakugou can’t help the loud, “hah?” he sits up at that comment, hands flat on the floor.
“you came in here moaning. you swear in every sentence. you act like the world has done you wrong. what happened with you?”
there’s a part of you that wants to find solidarity in this man. that perhaps he understands the pain you’re going through deep within your soul. after waking up from your coma three days ago, you feel sure the grief is going to eat you alive. you don’t want to hate the world, become evil and angry. you also don’t know how to not.
you get this blonde man blinking at you. a silence takes up the room quickly but you give him all the space in the world to speak.
“what d’you mean what happened to me? you think i have a sad tragic backstory like those american game show contestants?”
now you’re frowning back at him. you don’t understand that reference. “don’t you? or you’re just pissy for no reason?”
it feels like a weird competition now, that he should have something under his belt. something odd and sadistic to impress you with. bakugou bites.
“i died when i was sixteen. i fought a war and died.”
you’re not impressed. “how are you here now? i didn’t know this world has magic—,”
bakugou shakes his head, “nah not magic. another… another hero here fixed me up. brought me back.”
“oh,” you trail off, “and you’re fine now?”
he is. though it seems as if you’re looking for more. he deals with villain attacks often. fights them with his friends. he hasn’t been close to death since. he lives a wealthy luxury lifestyle now he’s professional and he’s got all his friends around him. all his greatest traumas he’s working through in therapy. yes, he goes therapy.
you keep talking, “you’ve got both your parents? all your friends?”
“y-yeah i do? i answered your question, didn’t i?” he spits.
you roll your lips in.
“are you… are you laughin’ at me again?”
at that your dam breaks, giggles spilling out. your shoulders shake and your hand covers your mouth in an attempt to be polite. though you lost that once you had to use the toilet beside your bed being recorded by security.
j“no, well yes! i don’t know, i thought you had a tragic backstory to explain your shitty attitude. guess it’s just you.”
bakugou’s walls go straight up. he doesn’t know who the hell you think you are to read him so easily. because yeah, maybe he is just a dick. but he owns it. he’s apologised for his mistakes in the past. he doesn’t hold all his worth to his quirk anymore and he doesn’t blame himself for anyone’s death. he’s actually quite well adjusted now.
“okay, so the fuck is your problem? why’re you on earth? where’s home? where’s your family? they just send you here and can’t be bothered to get you outta ‘earth jail’?” he snaps.
that slows your laughter down, your grin is the last thing to drop before pain shakes your heart. it’s a harsh squeeze that doesn’t let up.
“you’re not getting all of that out of me in one day. see you tomorrow, dynamight.” you’ve got nobody to come get you.
bakugou hates how he likes the sound of that. another day, a reason to see you again. he’s got a whole load of questions to ask you but he’s got to get back to his other tasks for the day.
“fine, if that’s what you want.” he begins to rise to his feet. he’s too petty to be somewhat nice. “y’know if you cooperate we can send you home.”
you look up at bakugou, hugging your knees to your chest on the hard concrete floor. “i don’t have a home anymore.”
bakugou stands still, mouth open to speak but nothing right is about to come out. until there’s a rough knock on the door, one of the jail guards.
“you okay, dynamight? times up unless you need more?”
bakugou doesn’t take his eyes off you, now back to your original position with your forehead on your knees. he won’t be surprised if you move to fetal position once he’s gone.
“i’ll be back tomorrow, yn.”
you don’t bother replying to him but you hear his thick boots walk out.
as soon as bakugou steps out the door, the guard pipes up.
“we saw she was speaking to you on cams! the alien’s gorgeous, isn’t she? doesn’t look like no damn alien either. what was she saying?”
the first thing bakugou does is shove the man away. “down my fuckin’ neck. i’m not sayin’ shit to you. who runs this place?”
in about an hour, you’re pulled out of your cell to a new room. one with a bedframe for your mattress, a pencil and a pad of paper. most especially, the toilet is in a separate room to your cell. you’re especially grateful when they remove your handcuff bracelets and don’t lock new ones on.
there’s no chance you’re going to thank dynamight for giving you your basic rights. you appreciate the changes to your new home though.
part two comments will be deleted. comments and reblogs are appreciated!
Coco the Witch 🌱
Her dress is based on one of Shirahama's amazing illustrations, I wanted to make an Alphonse Mucha styled fanart!
I'm proud of all the details even though it took very long, WHA's art is so beautiful it makes me want to draw the best I can too! I'm planning on turning this into a gold foil print for Dokomi
Love Without End @effervescent-petrichor - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
