They Have Comically Large Ears. You Can't Tell Me They Don't.

Hi.

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

Why am I so scared to speak? I have so much stuff to say, but I just refuse to say it. Fuck this.

You can only reblog this today or until the next Monday, June 19th, 2034.

I cast PunchYouIntheNuts, a spell which requires very little explanation, but I shall attempt to explain it to you now, while you're wheezing on the ground on all fours.

shaking six year old me by the shoulders YOU WERE RIGHT. YOU WERE RIGHT ABOUT LOVE AND ABOUT FAIRNESS AND ABOUT SHARING IS CARING. YOU WERE RIGHT. THE ADULTS DON’T KNOW ANY MORE ABOUT TRUTH THAN YOU DO. KEEP BELIEVING IN THE FAIRIES AT THE BOTTOM OF THE GARDEN. NOTHING IS “JUST THE WAY IT IS”. I AM SORRY THEY EVER CONVINCED YOU TO FEEL SHAME. YOU ARE REAL AND A PART OF THIS WORLD. YOU WERE RIGHT.

when it's too loud in the club and you're trying to talk to him but he can't hear you so he bends and leans in closer to your face for you to repeat yourself thank you for coming to my ted talk

YESSSSSS this is the first thing i thought of ,, my friends n i were obsessed w this tiktok last sunmer but it’s low-key a LIL VERY CRINGY SO DONT ATTACK ME BUT eeeek

it would be a situation where you don’t know each other too (first time i’m letting go of established relationship bkg :() AND YOUD BE A LIL TIPSY so you don’t recognise him first, who he is. this massive pro hero with his equally massive pro hero friends. maybe because you don’t really keep up with the news, or it’s dark and you’re tipsy. you don’t even realise the aura these men carry is different, powerful, like they own this space. a sense of control that the rest of the men in this establishment would dream to have. not realising any of these flags you go up to the blonde that’s standing by one of the vip booths, his hand nursing a glass of something brown that’s yet to be drunk from.

bakugou’s not a fan of clubs. clubs means letting loose, feeling free and giving in to your inhibitions. his life doesn’t necessarily allow him to do that. he’s got responsibility and a duty even when he’s off the job, and if he’s honest he doesn’t like the feeling of alcohol through his bloodstream. he wants to be awake and alert so he knows what’s happening. also being a pro hero comes with the celebrity aspect and these strangers, extras, shouldn’t be seeing him in a state he can’t control. it makes his skin craw just thinking about it.

and he’s analysing the room with eagle eyes, as he leans against the wall. watching kirishima dancing wildly in the centre, kaminari kissing the face of some girl. he sighs. what’s the point of coming here and paying extra for a vip booth if he doesn’t even want to be here. at least it keeps him safe from the line of girls that keep staring at him like a piece of meat, a drunken sheen in their eyes demanding him to take them away. yeah, he’s not doing that.

and in his usual alert mode, eyes sweeping across the room, he forgets to pay attention to right in front of him. to be exact, a little closer to the floor, to you swaying to the music, glossy eyes and tugging his sleeve. how did you get in here? are you of vip status too? he’s not sure how to tell.

he squints as he sees your lips move, he imagines your voice being just as pretty as you. maybe a sweet melody, especially compared to this loud obnoxious electronic dance music playing. you seem to be telling him, or asking him something. you look at him owlishly like you’re waiting for a reply. the thin gold necklace gleams against your collarbones, from the bright lights that shine down at you in a pattern he can’t work out and the sweat that thinly coats your body.

you’re really pretty. why are you alone in a place like this? he tries to get his thoughts in order, bending his back to accommodate to your size. he stops his head by yours, lips by your ears as he whispers, “i cant hear you babe with this shitty music playin. repeat yourself?”

and you. you didn’t realise the man you chose to ask your question was so attractive. especially up close. he looked a little familiar though you can’t pinpoint it in this exact moment. perhaps when you’re sober it will ring a bell. he smells good too. a little like burnt caramel and a woody scent layered on top. the smell is strong as he leans closer to you and he’s so large, triple your size that he’s a little overwhelming. your feet are rooted to the ground now. you couldn’t move away if you wanted.

and his voice. oh. you could feel your heart rattle against your chest. there wasn’t a slur in his words like every other drunken person here, each one sounded meaningful and so… intimate. it was like the cogs stopped moving in your brain, until you realised he was looking at you like you were before. waiting for a reply.

you shake yourself back awake, like you were a robot rebooting. you hoped you didn’t look stupid. as you opened your mouth to speak, he swiftly moved in closer to you. your lips by his ear so he could catch every word.

“do you work here? can i get another drink p-please?”

Allmight

this is the only day u can reblog this