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Warning: desperate Reader trying to overcome a possible Master Evil Plan from her explosive boyfriend, cussing (because of and from said boyfriend). Pastry carnage.
Summary: It’s your explosive boyfriend’s eighteenth birthday and like the (too) good girlfriend you are, you asked him about what kind of cake he’d like you to bake for him. Chaos ensues.
a/n: My first Mha fic! This was meant to be a one-shot for our beloved Lord Explosion Murder's birthday... aaaand turned out I finished it one month late... aaand it was so long that I had to split the story into 2 parts, ha, ha.
~ Also, a Clafoutis is a French cake with fruits ( cherries being the most commonly used ones) and a creamy texture that reminds a bit of a pudding, or “flan”, only difference being the use of flour and a pie pastry.
~It’s a simple, easy recipe… or at least, that cursed evil cake tries so to pretend.
(And yes, this fic has been totally inspired by my very own traumatic experiences with that cake)
Word count: 4727 words
(yep, still too long, sorry... Got carried away by the plot's shenanigans)
Disclaimer: I don’t own Bnha nor the story’s characters, just sharing my love for this series and the characters.
However, my writing belongs to me, so DO NOT repost, steal or translate any of my work.
You were standing there, crouched on the floor, hopeless, defeated, in the aftermath of your fight.
Somewhere up above, the faint ticking of a clock echoed like a cruel snicker, a mean ever evading White Rabbit mocking you, a disgusting sing song “you’re running out of time, loser!”. The sugary smell was overbearing, making you sick.
Palms pressed against the cold, dirty floor, you recoiled your fingers, nails painfully scratching over the hard surface splattered with broken pieces of eggs shell and grubby patches of dough. Slowly, you raised your head, eyes meeting the dimly lit ceiling.
Why…?
Why, Universe, why…?
You did everything right, followed each step carefully, searched for and dutifully included every tip and advice from the bests, purchased the freshest ingredients, used your ever trustful tools. You weren’t a beginner, no, and you had had your share of experimenting, failing, but in the end, you always overcame challenges and won.
When it came to “this”, you always won, for God’s sake.
So why, Universe…?
Were you lacking something? Was it your destiny? Your fated curse?
The ceiling remained as unconcerned at your existential crisis as a normal ceiling would. Which didn’t stop your internal soliloquy. You were starting to build a good dramatic tension out of all this anger and frustration.
You clutched the crinkled fabric of your usually immaculate uniform shirt, leaving a sticky imprint of egg yolk and burnt crumbs.
Why you? Why now?
But most of all…
Fucking why did your boyfriend have to challenge you with your Nemesis??
Why were you…
“Holy shit! What happened here?? Did someone let a rabid raccoon in??”
You recognized Jirou’s voice, slightly pitching up from the shock. It was shortly followed by a loud whine coming from a very annoyed Mina.
“Only one? Seems like a whole gang to me. Geez! It’s gonna take hours to clean that mess up… Urgh! I was looking forward some me time after a whole interning day…”
The next statement was raised by Kaminari, in a jolt of surprisingly accurate forecasting.
“Not to mention Class Prez is gonna blow a fuse if he ever walks in and see that carnage.”
Footsteps approached the crime scene, a bit uneasy.
A small vein pulsed and popped on your right temple.
So long for your internal, tragic monologue. You couldn’t even muse properly upon your miseries, dammit.
“But who could have wrecked our kitchen ?” Tsuyu’s voice popped in.
Jirou immediately – or rather, instinctively – provided an answer:
“Kaminari, I swear if this is one of your damn stupid prank…”
“Wait, what? Why me??”
“Cause you’re the kind of idiot to pull the kind of prank or “funny experiments” that’d end up exactly like this.”
You could almost see both Tsuyu’s and Mina’s shared, knowing nod as they approved:
“Kyouka’s got a point.”
“That’s defamation!!”
“Wow… I’m kinda impressed with the unexpected upgrading of your vocabulary, Kaminari…”
Still crouched behind the kitchen counter, you let out an exasperated groan. Your battlefield was suddenly getting too crowded for your tragic musings and gloomy mood. However, you weren’t one to let false accusations threaten friendships – though 9 out of 10 times, Kaminari would indeed be the culprit and the official Prank Provider of your class (together with the Bakusquad).
Grabbing the edge of the counter with one hand, you lifted yourself up – in what you hoped looked like an impactful, dramatic way – and cried :
“I’m the one to blame for it all!”
Unfortunately, you slipped on cherry kernels that were scattering the kitchen floor (and were coated with even more slippery egg whites remnants) and half sprawled yourself over the counter, spreading even more mess over the cooking area and yourself.
On the flip side, your surprise entry elicited an all-round shout from your scared classmates that made your tragic outcome effect not so ruined.
“Dammit, (y/n)!! Are you trying to kill us?? I nearly puked my heart out of shock!” Kaminari exclaimed, hand pressed on his chest to emphasize his words, though on the opposite side of said heart.
The girls were equally ready to retaliate with a grouped fire of questions.
And that was when a second unexpected wave of shock hit them, as they finally took in the whole crime scene in an unnerved silence.
The on slaughter of baking ingredients splattered on every available surface of the kitchen seemed like a mad chef slasher had murdered a full bakery shop display of pastries, lost in a carnage frenzy.
On the top of the counter, eleven cake pans in various shapes and sizes were aligned. Some of their contents were just too unbearable to watch. They matched the gruesome stains and residues that were splashed all over your uniform, apron, face and hair.
You, (y/n) (l/n), the ever neat, calm and collected student of class 3A, looked like a cake serial killer.
“Oh my God…” Mina whispered, covering her mouth with a hand.
“I can provide a valid explanation for it all…” you prompted with an exhausted voice.
Tsuyu, faithful to her honest, pragmatic self, got right to the point:
“Well… it seems like you failed some kind of… recipe…?”
You flinched. Your classmates flinched even more.
You. The Pastries Expert. The Goddess of Pies. The Queen of Cakes. The Muse of Cookies. The Marie-Antoinette of Macarons.
You failed…?
You. Whom even Sato considered as both his baking mutual and best rival. You even managed to make him cry out of delight with your Tarte Tatin.
You. Whose baking talents had even been recognized by Bakugo, though not without a harsh fight.
You. Failed. A recipe.
Somehow, this realization was scarier than your dough dripping, grim figure, the kitchen massacre.
“Failed…? Ah, still as accurate as ever, right, Tsuyu…?”
You chuckled. A dry little laugh, that you cut short so suddenly it had your already concerned classmates gasp a yelp.
“Indeed, I failed. And do you wanna know why…?”
Wanna? Did you just say wanna…?
Jirou exchanged a nervous glance with Mina. You very rarely used words’ contraction. Your speech was always as spotless and neat as your uniform.
“Or maybe I should say, because of whom asshole this all shit happened…?”
Kaminari swallowed hard. Mina winced at the cussing. Jirou blinked at you, in shock. Tsuyu cocked her head to the side, lost in thought.
You never swore. Ever. Not even amidst the heat of a fighting session, or from a particularly nasty blow, not even out of anger, annoyance nor frustration. Nope, you were always self-composed and mature.
A shocking contrast to your explosive, loud-mouthed, aggressively competitive boyfriend, who could curse nastier than the nastiest pirate in both fiction and history.
As for you, the filthiest swear word that could ever be drawn out of you would be a solemn “whoopsie-daisy”. Or a sighed “my, my” or “dear me” when very annoyed.
You had the patience and educating instincts of a pre-school teacher dealing with a class of brats (or a detection dog trainer).
To everyone’s opinion, Bakugo and you as a couple was one of those unexplainable mysteries of the Universe – and proof of the nonsensical laws of Love.
Apparently, today, the Universe had decided to turn the tables and invert Bakugo’s and yours personalities.
“W-Wait a minute… did Bakugo say or do something that… erm…”
At loss with words, and still perturbed with your “new” vocabulary, Kaminari waved at the kitchen disaster and the eleven victims of your culinary experiments.
“It’s for his birthday, right? You were baking a cake for him.”
Tsuyu pinpointed once again the right reason and answer.
“Oh! Makes sense!” Mina exclaimed.
She paused. Gazed at the mess. And added:
“Well, not that much, to be honest.”
“I don’t get it, (y/n).” Jirou went on, still confused. “You’ve baked tons of sweets since our first year, all of them could have ended in the best bakery’s display, won first place of this TV show’s pastries contest. Heck, I think even Gordon Ramsay would have acknowledged your talent!”
“I know!!”
The cry that escaped you was filled with a frustration, despair, and an anger that your classmates had never yet seen you reveal.
“I should never have let that bastard decide!! But how the fuck was I supposed to know he would go for “it”??”
Did you… did you just fucking use the F-word…??
“Huh… “it”…?” Kaminari carefully repeated, trying to ignore the Bakugo’s signature cussing you just spat out.
“Yeah! “It”!! My one and only fucking weakness!! That goddamn Nemesis!!”
With a dramatic flourish of your hand, you indicated the array of tins before spitting one word full of disgust, rancor, and bitterness:
“Clafoutis!!”
You let the revelation sink in until the dramatic pause turned awkward.
“You have no idea what I’m talking about, right…?”
“Nope.”
“Same here.”
“Huh… looks like some French curse..?”
“More like the name of a French pastry.”
As usual, Tsuyu saved the day. You nodded.
“Indeed. A cursed French pastry. Something only a sadistic minded motherfucker maniac could have come up with, some kind of evil formula that could even mess with and rewrite the Physical Laws of that bastard Universe…”
You didn’t possess a shadow manipulating Quirk, nor your personal Dark Shadow as Tokoyami, nevertheless, it seemed like an impending aura of darkness was slowly creeping over your silhouette.
“This… this is turning kinda bad, guys…” Mina whispered, shivering.
“So, to sum it up… Bakugo asked you to bake him this cake?” Tsuyu recapped in her pragmatic way.
Your hands flew to the ceiling, sending Clafoutis Experiments number 8 and 6 pirouetting to the ground, while your classmates ran for cover from the gruesome – and possibly lethal – dough splashes.
“Yes!! He did!! That dickhead specifically chose “that cake” because he knew, that motherfucker bastard, he fucking knew it was my weakness!!!”
You never yelled, never raised your voice even at your irksome boyfriend. Yet, this impossible scene of you, screaming and fuming and cussing, was now playing in front of your bewildered friends hidden behind one of the common area’s couches.
“We need help.” Jirou stated, speaking out loud her classmates’ thoughts and conclusions.
“Right. Which one do we get first? Recovery Girl? Aizawa-sensei? All Might? Number 13?” Kaminari listed while keeping a nervous eye on you.
Tsuyu cocked her head to the side.
“Hum… Not sure these Heroes would match that kind of situation…”
“Well at least, Number 13 could clean that mess in a blink of the eye! Less trouble for us, no evidence of… whatever called this – urgh -“thing” is… A win-win!” Mina argued.
“No, Tsuyu is right. What we really need…”
Jirou was interrupted by a loud chorus of “What the hell happened??”, various “Holy shit” variations, and a “did Kaminari blow up the pantry and the fridge again??” (which he immediately denied, feeling more and more offended at the repeated accusation).
“… isn’t one of these guys neither.” Jirou finished her last sentence.
Another set of classmates returning from interning day or training session had made their appearance. All of them equally as dumbfounded and shocked at both the kitchen disaster and your unusual self.
As the unofficial representative of the worried newcomers, Kirishima insisted:
“(y/n)?? What’s going on?? Is she okay?”
As the unofficial provider of recaps and explanations, Kaminari motioned to the group to join them behind the couch shelter, before giving a quick “Previously, in the 3A dorm’s Hell Kitchen” summary.
“Damn! I never thought this all birthday thing would literally send her apeshit…” Sero commented.
“Yeah… You think bringing her Bakugo would kinda, dunno, revert her back to her normal self?” Kirishima ventured.
“Oh! You mean, like in fairy tales? Curse lifting with the Prince’s kiss or vow of love…?” Mina perked up.
The picture lingered for five seconds before a general wince and shudder seized all of them. The three classmates frowned.
“Nah. Too romantic for Bakugo.”
“Y-Yeah… he’d probably do or say something that’d piss (y/n) off even more.”
“Not to mention I got the feeling she’d go right for his throat if he entered this room right now…”
Meanwhile, you had barely noticed the intrusion and your new audience. You were reaching the climax of your cake drama, the moment of revelation, the scar from the past, the backstory that had unleashed all hell over you.
“The truth is… I’m the one at fault…. I should… I should never ever have….” you muttered through gritted teeth.
“Guys, guys, shut up!! Here comes some juicy development!!” Kaminari (a little bit too) enthusiastically hushed his still debating classmates.
They quickly peeked out from the couch, all ears but still on their guard.
“I should… never have…”
Breaths were held, jaws clenched, as they waited for the final reveal.
“I should never ever have told that asshole about my one and only weakness!!! Damn that shitty mission!! Damn that fucking moment of respite, with that jerk being all close and intimate, and like, “let’s share and lick each other’s deepest wounds”, ha ha!!!”
As expected with some of your classmates almost supernatural ability for detecting and assuming possibly spicy contents from mundane metaphors, another debate ensued.
“Wait, what?? Close and intimate…?? Lick their wounds…?? Did they… Did they, like, really…??”
Both Kaminari and Mineta were on the verge of having a seizure. Sero waved a denying hand and shook his head.
“Nah. Not a chance. We’re always monitored during missions.”
Kirishima did his best at being loyal to his bro.
“Yeah. And I don’t really see Bakugo going on a hormone fever rampage… well at least, not during a mission. Same for (y/n). Wouldn’t be manly at all.”
“Oh? You talking about the same girl that’s currently undergoing a total 180…?” Kaminari pointed an accusing finger to your still creepy monologuing self.
“Speaking of her, are we gonna plan something to help her or just watch her unleashing Apocalypse over our dorm…?” Ojiro suddenly quipped in.
“Sshh! Here comes another development!!” Mina shushed with twinkles in her eyes.
Everyone’s attention turned back to you.
Head raised to the ceiling – still devoid of any metaphorical answer to your existential crisis – you let out a raging cry.
“It was supposed to be a secret, dammit!! I gave it to him, I trusted him and… and he… !!”
Your classmates were bracing for the impact. Explosion, lasers, tsunami, hurricane… But they did not expect what followed.
All of the sudden, you deflated. Head, shoulders, arms, back, it felt as if you had been critically stabbed and falling forward.
“… he just… betrayed me.”
Your voice trembled the words, so broken and helpless, that your emotional crisis finally reached your friends. Yes, that whole cake drama was weird and ridiculous – and a bit scary too – but… what kind of comrades and future Heroes would they be if they couldn’t even stretch a hand out to you…?
Out of the couch shelter they got and to the kitchen wasteland they ventured, thus. Ready to bring comfort and help, towels and brush, and a complete cleaning-up set for potentially lethal and neurotoxic substances.
However, another batch of classmates made their appearance, twisting again the plot.
Or rather, one classmate.
Standing tall and frozen in the middle of the doorway, one hand still pressed against the door panel, Sato slowly blinked at your Greek tragedy stage. Confusion furrowed his brows, a wave of questioning was ready to fire from his gaping mouth. But then, he met your eyes. Wordless understanding sparkled. The magic of baking mutuals, of cake kindred spirits, spoke.
Sato shut his mouth and in a few, fast steps, he strode to your side. He took in the aligned tinned victims, scanning with a deep, analytical intensity the contents.
“Clafoutis…?” He prompted.
You winced at the cursed name. Then nodded.
Your classmates marveled.
“Holy shit, how did he know?” Kaminari gaped.
“Guess you can’t beat a baking master even with failed, unidentified, nasty cake experiments.” Sero shrugged.
Landing a firm, confident and trusty hand on your right shoulder, Sato declared:
“Let’s do it all over again, (y/n). I’m here for you. You can do it.”
A chorus of cheers and renewed vows of friendship resounded back, embracing you with a new found energy.
Suddenly, your exhaustion vanished, your anger and frustration kept at bay. You felt refreshed – and a bit less disheveled and dough dripping, thanks to Mina’s survival emergency beauty kit – and all fired up.
You were ready again to bake the best birthday Clafoutis to your asshole of a boyfriend. And affectionately stuff it down his throat.
Fresh and quality ingredients were brought from Sato’s personal pantry, as well as his own kitchen utensils and devices (those used for your previous experiments would probably need some thorough industrial washing to get rid of… their residues).
You followed every steps and advices from your baking comrade to the letter. Sato even made another Clafoutis at the same time as yours, to serve as a step-by-step model for your own.
Everything was done right and well.
There was absolutely no way for it to falter or go wrong.
35 minutes of oven baking went by the blink of an eye, with some courageous volunteers starting a bit of cleaning up. The kitchen and you were beginning to look a bit more composed and human-like again.
A small respite that ended with the oven’s beep.
Sato’s Clafoutis looked delicious, sweet, fragrant and full of yumminess.
Yours radiated the worse, nastiest promises of intestine torture, food poisoning and lethal menace. If your cake were a Villain, he’d be directly thrown and locked into the deepest cells of the Tartarus prison. Or secured inside a nuclear waste container.
“Why…?” you whispered, eyes wide and shocked.
“Why…?” Sato pondered, sincerely confused and taken aback.
“Why???” your classmates cried, completely at loss and dumbfounded.
You weren’t kidding when you confessed about that cake being your Nemesis, your one and only baking weakness. It was becoming slightly unnerving, to tell the truth. From weird, funny nonsense, to unexplainable, supernatural forces, the line was thin to cross.
Your classmates were worried, both for your mental’s and their kitchen’s safety.
And since troubles always come in threes, Ida chose this very moment to make his entry with a commanding bellow.
“What on Earth is going on here?!”
Albeit many efforts had been poured into the kitchen’s cleanup, it was nevertheless still remaining messy – although less gory. Same applied to you.
However, all that Ida was currently seeing, was a ruined cooking space, catastrophe reports to write and lectures to distribute to the shameless culprits. Also, he was a bit pissed-off at the thought of having to cancel the beef stew he had planned to cook tonight.
“I demand the culprits denounce themselves!! This kitchen is property of the UA school, all kinds of degradation occurring in that space are subjects of being reported to Aizawa-sensei, as well as getting the appropriate punishment!!”
Ida’s arms were almost breakdancing on their own, matching his heated speech. Various classmates tried to calm him down and provide a recap in a chaotic chorus.
Salvation came from your own mouth, though, as you snapped out of your shocked state and denounced yourself with a cry – and abundant swearing.
“Fuck !!! I did it again!!! I fucked all!! I’m cursed, I’m fucking cursed, goddammit!!!”
Which gave the much needed jolt to bring everyone back to their senses, freeze both Ida and his arms, and let Kaminari slip into Recap Ringmaster Mode.
Once having partially recovered from his stupor, and with the joint convincing powers of Momo and Kirishima, Ida finally gave in and another battle plan was discussed.
It was time to level up the game.
You needed the right Hero for this crushing challenge.
“Lunch Rush.”
The two words suddenly echoed as a savior’s call to your exhausted, discouraged ears. Facing you, his large hand stretched out again, Sato insisted with a firm smile.
“Come on, (y/n). Let’s ask for his help. Trust him.”
You blinked. Lunch Rush… Of course! Why hadn’t you thought about him from the start?? You needed the best of the best cooking Hero to tackle and make that motherfucking bastard cake eat dirt, to pulverize that damn Kryptonite that had been secretly plaguing your existence, and to send the most efficient, brutal and delicious swing right into Bakugo’s tasting buds!!
You grabbed Sato’s hand and squeezed it back in the manliest, most-shounen-radiating-vibes.
“Let’s do it!!”
Cue a loud, all-round sigh from your relieved classmates. Sato, Ida and Momo were appointed as your assistants and persuading squad for requesting Lunch Rush’s help. The four of you took your leave under the cheers and encouragements of class 3A students.
Two hours went by.
A penultimate wave of tired classmates were welcomed back and provided with a profusely detailed report and recap of the “Previously, in class 3A Hell Kitchen”, courtesy of Kaminari, with the much needed support of Tsuyu, who delivered the right, corrected version of your baking drama. The kitchen was almost back to its normal state, except for a cluster of very nasty looking stains that seemed to have seeped in the wood of the counter. Jirou, Sero and Ojiro were debating whether they should simply cover it with some kind of toxic-resistant material, or just ask for a counter replacement, when you made your way back to the dorm.
Your classmates immediately grouped around you, faces full of expectation – and a bit of apprehension too.
A looming silence was enveloping you and your personal squad.
“Oh shit…” Kaminari muttered.
“(y/n)…” Mina whined.
“Don’t tell me that she…” Jirou breathed out shakily.
“”Armageddon.” Tokoyami foreshadowed in a single, sharp word.
Slowly, Ida took off his glasses, wiped them, then secured them back on his nose.
“Earth is a place full of unexplainable mysteries. Today, we’ve learned a hard yet meaningful lesson.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Prez??” the Bakusquad members all yelled in unison.
Momo pinched her nose, a brief, dark cloud of exhaustion and helplessness crossing her face. Sato balled his fists and looked away. You just stood there, your body paused in an unnerving stillness, stiff arms holding a baking tin covered with a kitchen towel. No one dared to even think lifting it up and take a peek.
Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Momo gently motioned you to move. So you did, mimicking The Wizard of Oz’s Tin Man in his worst rusty days. Without a word, you deposited the tin on the counter, near Clafoutis Experiment Number 12. Momo rubbed your back in a soothing attempt. Your silhouette hunched.
Sato finally offered an explanation:
“Lunch Rush himself said he had never ever seen such a failing baking case in his whole life.”
“No way!!”
“So she really is cursed??”
Nervous, concerned stares went back to you.
This was it. Your Black Moment. The moment where everything seemed lost, every forces of that bastard Universe had joined and crushed you, leaving you agonizing in a dark place.
You took a deep breath.
Fine.
Slowly, you straightened your back.
Maybe you should give up, then.
The thought of declaring forfeit to Katsuki “asshole” Bakugo, your beloved jerk of a boyfriend, was painful and frustrating. But this all birthday bullshit was torturing you beyond any fucking understanding – and you had endured the Last War and even a confrontation with AFO himself.
But wait. Wait.
What if…?
You started to mumble to yourself:
“Maybe I should just buy one…? No, no, this motherfucker deserves a special treat… yeah… something that’d make it memorable… ha, ha…”
You were eying your Frankenstein’s baking creations with an uncanny, slightly disturbing smile.
Mina gulped.
“G-Guys… I think (y/n) is thinking about some really disturbing stuff…”
Ida immediately performed the Emergency Exit rally cry.
“Everybody calm down!! All we need, is… “
“The fuck is going on ??”
The more than recognizable bark that quipped in was tired, annoyed, ready to bite.
Last of your classmates returning from their laborious day, but certainly not the least, Bakugo stepped in your dramatic setting.
“Holy shit…” Kaminari whispered through gritted teeth.
“Run for cover…?” Sero suggested.
Your back briefly flinched, but you didn’t turn. Momo and Uraraka instinctively pushed away from you any baking tool that could have made for a potential weapon. Your wary classmates suddenly went into “ticking bomb menace” emergency mode, keeping a close and very anxious eye on both you and the well-named Lord Explosion Murder Dynamight.
The tense silence was like a room equipped with multiple sensory laser alarms traps.
And Bakugo’s mouth was the trigger that activated all of them at once.
“Tch, whatever. I’m too fuckin’ tired for extras’ shit. See ya, losers.”
One hand in his pocket, the other scratching his sandy blond locks, he took his leave without a single look back at you, nonchalant and as unfazed as his naturally cross face would let him be.
Sato and Midoriya immediately took position between you and the nearest Clafoutis Experiments. While all of your classmates would agree Bakugo deserved some kind of “Smash in the Face Pie Retaliation”, he would probably not survive one of your failed Clafoutis’ attack.
In an attempt to open a path to peace talks between you and his bro, Kirishima grabbed Bakugo’s arm and tried to summon his friend’s manly spirit.
“She’s been at it since the morning, dude. And look at her, she’s all burned out and loosing her mind, just for you! Are you gonna let her wreck herself even more?? Is that the kind of birthday you’re looking for?? C’mon, be a man and do something! She’s your girlfriend, dammit!”
“Hah? Wacha talkin’ about?”
Bakugo huffed and yanked his arm off of his friend’s grip. He shrugged, still deliberately ignoring your frozen figure, before turning away and resuming to his walk.
“If it’s too much for her, then just give up. Who cares? I don’t give a flyin’ fuck ‘bout it. I’m not even into sweets.”
The words were delivered high and loud, like a slap in the face, a war declaration.
Well at least, that was the feeling that sparkled, burst and engulfed you, suddenly spurring you to retaliate. Though not with one of your lethal French pies.
Palms slamming against the counter, you pushed and spun around, mouth contorted in a nasty sneer.
“YOU! YOU DAMN MOTHERFUCKER BASTARD!!”
Those of your classmates that hadn’t yet experienced your live apeshit rampage show yelped and scare jumped.
“You think I’m really gonna let you win this?? Think your shitty babbling bullying is gonna have me on my damn knees and bawling, all crushed and defeated, HAH?? Well, FUCK YOU!! Fuck you, Katsuki Asshole Bakugo!! I ain’t gonna fall to my knees for you, you cocky motherfucker bastard!!”
To prove your point and emphasize the impact of your speech, you raised a glorious middle finger at your boyfriend.
Pausing again, this time on his own, Bakugo merely half turned his head to you. The seemingly half-hearted, annoyed attention only set ablaze your internal chaos.
“Know what, jerk? I ain’t fuckin’ giving up. Fuck NO!”
Bringing a thumb to the side of your throat, you let your nail slowly trace a sharp, perfectly straight line across your neck, following your next words. Your smile only made your rehearsal for a head chopping even more threatening.
“Listen up, you dickhead. I’ll have you on your fucking knees and begging for more with that fucking cake first thing in the morning, tomorrow. This ‘s gonna be my win. You hear me, jerk? MY WIN!”
A pause. Just for your menace to seep in.
Your glare not only seemed to throw daggers at your – still infuriatingly unfazed – boyfriend, but also, to metaphorically perform all kinds of barbaric medieval torture on him as well.
Finally, Bakugo turned his head away, voiced a dismissive “Whatever”, and left for the elevator.
You stood by the counter, panting and fuming, already planning your next move.
Ooooh, you were so going to make him pay, that lil’ shit.
No more dramas, enough of tragic soliloquies.
It was retaliation time, baby.
And you enrolled your traumatized classmates with a renewed energy and a looming aura that had them double, triple-check each of your actions in the five more baking attempts you made, for fear of having you AND your cursed Frankenstein’s creations really end up in jail.
***********************
a/n: Hope you enjoyed, dear Reader !
Likes, rebblogs, and comments are up to your heart, but any of them will be very much appreciated and treasured!
Hello! I'm getting back into fandom after many years and was hoping you could recommend the best (or most popular) drarry fics to come out in the last 5 years?? The longer the better! I'm having such a blast re-reading old favs and would love more to read! Thank you so much!
I was also away from the fandom the past three years, we share the feeling! I'll go for +100k and skip super well known examples (e.g., Grounds for Divorce)
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I Do Not Love You by Writ_and_romance (228k)
In 2013, a carefully-designed Obliviation leaves Harry reconfiguring his life and identity without any memories of true love; an act that’s essentially erased Draco Malfoy from his mind despite a wedding band and shared home.
In 2000, Draco had expected Pansy’s relationship with Luna to bring the Gryffindors a bit closer to his orbit of quiet, carefully pacifistic existence, but he never expected to navigate such a transparent embrace into a unit of family, friendship, and love.
A mystery, two love stories, and a reminder that learning to love never has an end date.
Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (110k)
Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.
But before long he finds himself with a thriving business, a nice flat, some actual (albeit irritatingly Gryffindor) friends, and a very satisfying sex life. What’s more, no-one is hexing him in the street. And Harry Potter is single, and gorgeous, and giving Draco decidedly interested looks.
Stop taking the Felix? You must be joking…
Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by @norelationtoatticus (104k)
Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.
Every Hour Has Led to This by @sassy-cissa (105k)
Banned from the wizarding world and sentenced to live as a Muggle for ten years, Draco Malfoy finds his world turned upside down. Navigating the Muggle world becomes easier thanks to help from some unexpected strangers who become family. But when his mother insists Draco fulfil an agreement set when he was a child, he finds himself married and a father. Then a divorced single father. After the war Harry Potter found himself without purpose, until an unexpected offer changed his life. Playboy, Quidditch star, war hero – Harry seems to have it all, until a Quidditch accident ends his career. Lost and without purpose, Harry’s life is lonely until a surprising event brings him to Draco’s door…literally. Running parallel lives for nearly 10 years, when they reconnect both Draco and Harry find the passion for life that had been missing. A story of love and loss and how the best things in life happen in their own time
Pages of You by @wolfpants (101k)
Summer, 1980. Harry is floating between university and becoming a Real Certified Adult. He's not ready. He really isn't.
In a desperate attempt to have the Best Last Summer ever, he takes a casual job at his godfather's bookshop in London, starts an illicit pen pal affair with a wordy posh boy that he's catching feelings for, all while dealing with the son of Sirius's business rival, one Draco Malfoy, insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire.
A story about trying to figure out who you are, where you're going in life, and who you want to take along with you.
Notes on a resurrection by newleaves (126k)
It was never Draco’s intention to raise Sirius Black from the dead.
The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (103k)
This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.
Turning Leaves by @kbrick (112k)
Draco and Harry have a one-night stand that ends in disaster after Harry tells Draco he's unable to move beyond their poisonous past. So when Draco finds an unusual Time-Turner in the Department of Mysteries, he seizes the opportunity to start fresh with Harry. Only instead of fixing things, he keeps making them worse.
Bolts by @lqtraintracks (114k)
Harry joins the Hogwarts staff as the new History of Magic Professor, while Draco has already been teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts for the past year. When Samantha, a first year, is being bullied one day and throws a made-up Truth curse at her harasser, only to accidentally hit Harry instead, Harry becomes cursed to tell the truth, and not only that, he has to regularly tell it to Draco Malfoy. Samantha is clearly gifted, maybe the most powerful witch or wizard to ever come through Hogwarts, and yet she has no idea how to take the curse off. As they work to remove it—and also teach Samantha how to control a power that's becoming more dangerous by the day—will Harry's truths become too much to handle? And will whatever’s going on with Draco just make everything exponentially worse?
Freedom to be by @quicksilvermaid (169k)
Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived. 12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends. Only nothing feels perfect. Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.
By the Grace by @letteredlettered (139k)
Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.
Two to Shore by Lamplighter (204k)
Harry and Draco meet in Madam Malkin’s and instantly take a liking to each other. Just kidding. They don’t, but Harry does get sorted into Slytherin, and they do become extremely good friends.
Way Down We Go by @xiaq (109k)
The war was over. Or at least that’s what the papers said. They’d been saying it, for months, as if people needed reminding. Maybe they did.
In which Harry and Draco both run away from their pasts and conveniently choose to hide in the same tiny American town. It's super.
Nyctophilia by prolonged_autumn (107k)
Everyone's back for 8th year, and Harry and his friends seem determined to spend their last year in school running around at night, hyped up on coffee and alcohol and Honeydukes candy, doing all the childish things they didn't have the chance to do before. Draco watches as he's always watched: from afar, quiet and bitter and hopelessly in love. That is, until Pansy decides she's had quite enough of it.
Make Yourself by @anyaelizabethfic (103k)
Harry just wants to be safe within the freshly painted walls of Grimmauld Place, with his friends around him. But when he hears Draco Malfoy has been spotted at the local soup kitchen, he can’t help but encourage a different type of stray to come under his roof.
Kept Man by @drarry (147k)
A downtrodden Harry Potter in a serious dry spell is looking to be a kept man, and a lonely Draco Malfoy responds to his anonymous ad. A perfect storm of lust, scandal, and maybe even love. A Daddy Kink Magnum Opus.
The Ordeal of Being Known by @lou-isfake (146k)
When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there’s unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions. It’s obviously a terrible idea, a disaster waiting to happen, but Draco’s never been able to back down from a challenge… especially from Potter.
Harry Potter and the Welcome to the World of Grey by @sobsicles (456k)
When Harry fails to keep his anger at bay and Voldemort possesses his mind, the events that follow lead him down a long road to realizing the world isn’t as black and white as it seems. Chaos, hilarity, and tragedy ensue with a Dark Lord being honest all the time, a rival becoming something else, and a world demanding to be saved. Featuring frightened Death Eaters, deep conversations with a monster, Pureblood traditions being ridiculous, and the fight to do the right thing with no true options. Harry’s life just gets more and more bizarre with each passing moment. ~~~ Or, the one where Harry’s life gets split in half, and he has to figure out how to bring it back together.
The Secret Keeper by @the-fools-errand (225k)
On Halloween 1981, Albus Dumbledore made a decision that would change the course of history, concealing Harry Potter’s survival at the hands of Lord Voldemort underneath a Fidelius Charm. But when Harry comes of age in the Muggle world, Dumbledore realises too late that the fate of the world may depend on a boy who has never held a wand. An unlikely team assembles to teach him everything he needs to know before the charm runs out, but only one of them knows the truth behind the Dark Lord’s return to power. If it were anyone else, Draco would have no problem turning them over to the Death Eaters, but there’s something about this certain bespectacled idiot that has him questioning everything he’s ever known. Will Draco seal the fate of the wizarding world by uncovering the Chosen One or will Harry save Draco from a fate of his own?
Dwelling on Dreams by @the-sinking-ship (135k)
Draco thought he could avoid Potter for the duration of his brief return to England. He’d stick to his schedule and be back home in Paris, where he belonged, in a few short months. No trouble at all. He had plenty to occupy him, what with the opening of the London branch of his successful apothecary, his innovative research, drinks with Pansy, a backlog of unread potions periodicals. Except Head Auror Potter is everywhere — in Draco's chair, at his door, in his dreams. All six feet of motorbike-riding, combat-boot-wearing, sex-hair-sporting Saviour of the World packed into one unfairly fetching uniform. Potter won’t leave Draco the bloody hell alone, won’t let him breathe, let him forget, let him sleep. Because no matter how fast Draco Malfoy runs, Harry Potter is always hot on his heels.
A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (128k)
When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be. Draco has to navigate dealing with this Potter while being hunted by Dark wizards and wanted by extremists in the Ministry. When things take a turn for the worse, Draco has to decide whether he's going to keep running or find a way to protect the world and the people he cares about most.
Changing Tides by @carpemermaidtales (109k)
Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life. Instead of doing what’s expected of him fifth year, he joins Dumbledore’s Army and learns how to defend himself, how to make his own choices, and how he can be something greater than his father’s example as he grows into his own man rather than his father’s shadow. The choices he makes change both his and Harry’s fates, intertwining their paths until they converge.
Taking Chances by @gracerene (135k)
After the war, Draco disappeared and started over in America, vowing never to return to Great Britain and the fraught past he left behind. Unfortunately, when his mates convince him to sign up for an exchange programme for the last year of their Auror Training, Draco learns that he doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter.
Graceless Heart by @orange-peony (132k)
Harry is lost and broken after the war. He has gone to countless funerals, broken up with Ginny, moved back into Grimmauld Place—which feels darker and dirtier than ever before despite how much he tries to fix it. He feels lonely and desperate, but he won’t ask for help, and he still can’t cry.
When he agreed to help the Aurors at Malfoy Manor over the summer, he thought that he would be breaking dark curses. Harry never thought that he would actually spend his days sorting out dusty books with Draco Malfoy, or teaching him how to cook.
Little by little, as they begin to navigate their life post-war, Harry and Draco become intimate…in more ways than Harry could have ever expected.
Brave Though The Stars They Make Me by @dwell-the-brave (108k)
After the events at the end of his Sixth Year, Draco Malfoy has been kept all but prisoner in his childhood home, Malfoy Manor. Alone, terrified, and desperate for some way out, he begins to have strange dreams - dreams of Harry Potter. Are they a trick of his mind? Or are they a way to change his fate, and a chance at redemption?
Always Already by @aibidil (170k)
Harry and Draco are perfectly fine, separately minding their business in 2004, when the Unspeakables conscript them into service... in the First War against Voldemort.
Come for mutual pining and forced proximity in a 1980 hotel room, stay for young Sirius and philosophising about immortality and wormholes. And an eighties cowboy soap opera.
He Comes Like a Thunderstorm by @korlaena (140k)
Draco is doing his best to balance the life he wants to live and the life he’s forced to live. He’s nearing the tail-end of a long, post-war probation when Harry Potter crashes back into his life with all the grace of a charging Erumpent, breaking through his carefully constructed rules and routine. Caught up in a whirlwind of sex and lust, Potter unwittingly shows Draco that his life as an Incubus doesn’t have to be as lonely and unfulfilling as he thought, but how long can it last?
Close Behind by @oflights (134k)
To rescue Draco from the Underworld, Harry has to look forward. Unfortunately, Draco has to look back
where all the veins meet by @saxamophone (146k)
It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now? His friends try to help, but the only thing that can hold his attention—one of the only things that ever has—is Draco Malfoy, out on parole and weirdly hanging around the British Museum. As they keep running into each other, Harry sees that Malfoy is different, and he wonders if he can be someone else, too. Featuring rumpled band shirts, poker games everyone hates, fumbling sex, and a Harry going a little mental over how wands even work.
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This was incredible. The art, the storytelling, the characters, all designed to lure you in to a beautiful show. The finale was amazing, with what they had they made something satisfying, something the audience will forever enjoy, something that the cast and crew of The Owl House is proud of.
But it could have been more.
I keep thinking about what would happen if the show didn’t get canceled, if we got a full season three, if Dana Terrace didn’t have to fight so hard to just get three episodes. Would we have a full backstory episode of Belos? of the Collector? of King’s father? Would we have an episode that is focused soley on relationships? The ships we wanted to see happen have come to frution but in small samples, it is only implied but never fully shown. What about Hunter? We never got to see him overcome this identity crisis of being a Grimwalker, of being a different person. Would we have fully met Caleb? Instead of being told a backstory through pictures?
We were robbed. Holy and fully. I don’t mean that jokingly either. The Disney Executives didn’t like this show, didn’t like the message or theme, and definitely did not like the representation. They took it away because they didn’t like it, even though it has raving reviews and brings in older viewers. They robbed us, and it hurt, like a burglar took my favorite keepsake.
Not only did they rob us, but they robbed the people who worked so hard on The Owl House. This show is Dana Terrace’s baby, and they stole it from her too soon. This show meant something to people as well, and Disney stomped on that.
So, was Watching and Dreaming fantastic? Yes. There is no doubt about it. The crew did so much, with so little, and I am so impressed that it culminated to a satisfying ending with so much information to cram into only about three hours.
But it could have been more, we could of had more, Dana Terrance and the cast and the crew could of had more. I wish it could have been more.
This child who came to my house tonight is literally the funniest human being on the planet. She complimented me on having both lollipops and mini Three Musketeers available because "a lot of houses these days don't give you a fruit flavor option." She was very solemn about this.
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while i’m thinking of it- a niche underrated theme thing in the first series that I’m absolutely OBSESSED with is Percy’s love interests representing the sort of different paths he could have gone down, and him choosing Annabeth is him choosing the balance between the two worlds he’s living between - the truest sense of being demi-god.
Rachel represented him ignoring his godly side and burying himself in mortal life, avoiding the divine side of his family and self and everything that comes with it. No prophecies or destinies, just Simple Mortal Worries.
Calypso was the idealistic side of the divine - magical servants, a beautiful island, lost to time and forgetting his duties and destinies. Spending the rest of his days in a paradise with a kind soul who understands his struggles with the gods but not to the point of hostility. The epitome of the fantastical and living without a care in the world.
Nico represented fully embracing divine heritage, and the brutality and hardships that come with being a demigod. Death, pain, loss, crushed childhood idealizations. Accepting that the fantastical isn’t always kind and losing touch with mortality - Nico spends most of his time pre-BoO away from both camps, he’s the King of Ghosts, and he has no fully mortal connections. It’s also important to note how much Nico is in play, particularly in direct contrast to Annabeth, in TLO. Nico is the one to give Percy the Curse of Achilles (literally making him functionally semi-immortal, which is in-part why he’s offered immortality specifically in the first place). When Percy is in the Styx seeing the vision of being with Annabeth at the lake and reaches out to her, Nico is the one to grab his hand and pull him from the river (Ideals of demigod life [Annabeth at CHB] versus the reality of where they currently are [Nico in the Underworld]). Nico arrives with (notably entirely undead & divine) reinforcements to the Battle for Manhattan which helps turn the tide. Nico is there when Percy is offered immortality, but when Percy denies it, he looks to Annabeth.
Annabeth represents striking the balance between divine and mortal - fighting wars, going to college. Growing up at camp and moving back home in a land beyond the (Greek) gods. Making amends with both your godly and mortal parents. When Percy picks Annabeth, he’s picking equilibrium between the different lives he’s living, not honing in on a specific aspect of it and neglecting the rest. Also, particularly in TLO and contrasting with Nico, there’s a bit element of trust and loyalty - Nico has complex loyalties to Percy, where even breaking Percy’s trust was done in a roundabout way of trying to protect him and ensure he wouldn’t be harmed either by Hades or in battle. Annabeth’s loyalty is simple and Percy not only trusts her fully, but Annabeth trusts him in turn without question, taking a poisoned knife for him despite not knowing if it would even harm him or not. Both absolutely put their lives on the line for Percy, but there’s a give and take, gains and sacrifices (Nico seeking information and reinforcements, Annabeth just straight up getting poisoned/stabbed). Also, notably, the scenarios surrounding those moments again reflects the extremes versus balances of how they integrate the mortal and divine together (Nico seeking knowledge about his family & memories [mortal] from his father [divine] vs Annabeth getting stabbed [mortal] with a poisoned [divine] knife) - again an extreme/disharmony versus simplicity and unity/balance.
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Oops, I never uploaded this one to Tumblr (which I only realized when someone else did, but then was kind enough to tag me, thank you)!
This is the comic that kickstarted my obsession with telling stories with as few panels as I could (usually 10-11 haha), so it’s got a soft spot in my heart.
amandla
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