“Family Dinner (aka: The Apocalypse)”

“Red Marks and Red Faces”

The locker room buzzed with post-mission chatter, half-dressed pro-heroes in various states of undress switching from their hero gear to their casual uniforms. Katsuki Bakugou, still sweaty and irritable from the high-intensity patrol, yanked his tank top over his head and tossed it into his locker.

That’s when it happened.

“Yo, Bakugou,” Kirishima’s voice piped up behind him. “What the hell happened to your back?”

The room seemed to fall into a hushed pause, the question hanging in the air like a live wire. Katsuki stiffened, jaw tightening as he slowly turned to glare over his shoulder.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

But Kirishima was already pointing. “Dude. Your back. It looks like you wrestled a damn wildcat.”

Bakugou blinked, confused for a split second — until the faint burn of the scratches reminded him exactly what Kirishima was talking about. Red marks. Thin, angry lines trailing across his shoulder blades and down his spine. Not deep enough to scar — but definitely obvious. And definitely not from any villain fight.

Kaminari, half in his shirt, leaned over to look. “Whoa. Are those… scratch marks?” He grinned. “Wait, wait — no villain did that. That looks personal.”

Bakugou growled, jerking his shirt from the locker and yanking it on.

“They’re from the last fight,” he muttered.

But it was too late. Sero was laughing now. “Nah, man. That’s not battle damage. That’s some bedroom battle damage.”

Kirishima’s eyes went wide in realization. “Wait. You’ve got a girlfriend, don’t you?”

Bakugou didn’t answer. His ears were already glowing red.

Kaminari gasped like he was on a soap opera. “Was it the girl you brought to the agency event? The one with the cute smile? Damn, Bakugou, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Sero smirked. “Scratch marks like that? She must’ve had a good time.”

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugou snapped, finally losing it, his voice echoing through the locker room. “Mind your damn business!”

But even as he barked at them, his mind flickered back to the night before — your nails raking down his back, breathy moans, the way you whispered his name like a secret only meant for the dark. He hadn’t even felt the scratches in the moment.

He cursed under his breath.

Sero leaned in with a teasing nudge. “Tell her next time to be gentle, man.”

Katsuki shoved him off. “You’re lucky I don’t blow your damn face off.”

Kirishima chuckled and gave him a fist bump on the way out. “No shame, bro. Just maybe bring some aloe next time.”

Left fuming and red-eared, Bakugou slammed his locker shut, muttering under his breath. Still, as he left the room, a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Because the truth was — he didn’t mind the scratches.

Not one damn bit.

---

“The Janitor’s Closet Incident”

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Katsuki Bakugo

Genre: Comedy, Chaos, Parental Meltdown, The Fear of God™

---

It started with a phone call.

You picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is U.A. Junior High. We need to speak with Haruki’s parent or guardian. It’s… regarding an incident.”

You immediately sat up straighter. “Is he hurt?”

There was a pause.

“…No. But you might want to sit down anyway.”

---

Bakugo showed up to the school thirty minutes later, stomping through the front office like he was about to arrest someone. You trailed behind, apologizing for the murder energy radiating off your husband.

The principal met you both at the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Bakugo. Thank you for coming.”

“Where is he?” Bakugo growled.

The principal adjusted his tie, sweating slightly. “Uh, Haruki is in the guidance office. We… caught him in a compromising position.”

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed.

“Compromising how?”

The principal coughed. “He was found in the janitor’s closet… with a girl.”

Bakugo blinked. Slowly. Like his body had to buffer the information before rage kicked in.

“…I’m sorry. The WHERE?”

“We believe they were… kissing.”

Kissing.

You swore you could hear Bakugo’s soul leave his body.

---

Haruki sat in the guidance office with a cold compress on the back of his neck. Not because he was injured—because the sheer panic had made him sweat so hard the nurse got concerned.

You walked in first. “Sweetheart…”

He looked up like a deer caught in a nuclear explosion.

“M-Mom—I swear—we weren’t doing anything bad!”

“Closet, Haruki?” Bakugo thundered behind you. “The janitor’s closet?! What are you, a soap opera character?!”

Haruki practically jumped out of the chair. “We were just kissing! I didn’t even—I mean—it was only for like ten seconds and—”

“TEN SECONDS?!”

You gently pushed Bakugo back before he combusted. “Let’s take a breath.”

“No!” he snapped. “First he nearly gives me a heart attack with his ‘alone time,’ then I have to give him the world’s most traumatic sex talk, and now he’s reenacting Riverdamndale in the broom closet?! What’s next? A hotel room?! A BABY?!”

Haruki was turning colors.

“I’m not gonna be a dad! I’m a kid! I don’t even know how to do laundry!”

“Damn right you don’t!” Bakugo pointed a finger like it was a loaded weapon. “And if I ever catch wind of you kissing anyone again without supervision, I’m sending you to a monastery.”

“A what?!”

“You’ll have a vow of silence and a celibacy contract by Monday!”

You snorted trying to hold back laughter. “Okay, okay. Enough. We’ll talk about this at home.”

Bakugo leaned down, eye-level with Haruki. “Do you know what I used to do to pervy boys in high school?”

“Traumatize them?”

“Worse. I gave ‘em tips.”

“Wait—what?”

Bakugo smirked. “And then I traumatized ‘em.”

Haruki groaned. “I need a new family.”

---

Later that night…

Bakugo was pacing the kitchen. “A closet, babe. Like, with brooms and mops. That’s not even romantic!”

You sipped your wine. “Be glad it wasn’t the chemistry lab.”

Bakugo paused.

“…We’re homeschooling him.”

hii, can I request a katsuki x reader. where the reader is always sleeping but still keeps up with everyone/thing.

Hii! Absolutely, that sounds like a super cute and fun dynamic—lazy but secretly competent reader♡

"Nap Queen (and the One Who Puts Up With Her)"

Katsuki Bakugou didn’t understand how you did it.

Every time he turned around, you were curled up somewhere: on the common room couch, under a shady tree, in a sunny patch on the roof, halfway under a desk in class—you were like some kind of professional napper. The class had started placing bets on how many hours of the day you'd spend asleep.

What baffled him the most, though, was that you somehow never fell behind.

He’d catch you with your head down during strategy lessons, but when Aizawa asked you a question, you'd snap awake and answer it perfectly, eyes half-lidded like you were still halfway in a dream. You aced surprise pop quizzes. You dodged blows like you had precognitive reflexes. You turned in reports early.

And it infuriated him.

“How the hell do you know what’s going on when you’re always passed the fuck out?” he snapped one day, as you blinked slowly up at him from the dorm lounge sofa, still wrapped like a burrito in your blanket.

“Hmm?” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “I’ve got good ears… and Denki talks so loud.”

He stared at you, jaw tight. “That’s it?”

You yawned, then smiled lazily. “Also, I listen when I’m asleep.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Is for me,” you murmured, then gave a little stretch that somehow annoyed and fascinated him at the same time. “You worried I’ll surpass you in my dreams, Bakugou?”

His eye twitched. “I’ll blow you to hell in your dreams if you keep talkin’ like that.”

You chuckled and rolled over, pulling the blanket higher. “Cool. Just wake me up first.”

That damn smirk stayed in his head the rest of the day. And the next. And maybe a few after that.

Explosive Love: Part 5 – Sero & Denki: Bros vs Baby Bomb

Pairing: Kirishima x Fem!Reader

Featuring: Babysitters Hanta Sero & Denki Kaminari

Genre: Chaotic Comedy, Tag-Team Disaster

Summary: They called themselves the “Ultimate Babysitter Duo.” They wore matching shirts. They brought snacks. They were so sure they’d nail it. But the baby had other plans… and Denki forgot to bring nose plugs.

---

“I don’t see the problem,” Denki said confidently as he adjusted his “BABY DUTY” headband.

“We’ve got this,” Sero agreed, tossing a roll of duct tape into the air and catching it like it was part of his combat gear. “Two pros. One baby. No fear.”

Kirishima opened the door, holding the baby like she was made of nitroglycerin.

“You guys sure you’re ready?” he asked for the tenth time.

“Dude,” Denki grinned, “we’ve babysat a cat before.”

“Yeah,” Sero added, “and that cat only pooped in Denki’s shoe once. So, like. We’re trained.”

You raised an eyebrow. “She’s... different.”

The baby gurgled sweetly.

FORESHADOWING INTENSIFIES

---

T+15 Minutes:

They were vibing. Music playing. Baby bouncing. Denki had given her a sparkly bow headband, and Sero was trying to teach her to high-five.

“This is easy,” Denki said, stretching out on the couch. “I think we’re naturally gifted.”

PFFFT.

The sound was small.

The smell was not.

Sero went still. “Was that… her?”

Denki waved his hand dramatically. “Whoa—why is it spicy?!”

The baby grinned and clapped. Like a tiny villain. A very proud one.

PHBRRRRTTTT.

Denki staggered back like he'd been shot. “THAT ONE HAD VIBRATION!!”

---

T+28 Minutes:

Denki was hiding behind the kitchen island.

“She’s targeting me,” he whispered into a banana, pretending it was a walkie-talkie.

Sero was kneeling on the couch with a blanket over his nose. “We’ve got gas, repeat, full gas zone! Operation Diaper Storm is a go!”

“Negative!” Denki cried. “I am NOT opening that containment zone!”

“YOU fed her the applesauce!”

“I didn’t know applesauce unlocked her final form!”

The baby squealed with laughter.

---

T+40 Minutes:

There was tape on the walls. Baby wipes scattered across the battlefield. Sero was trying to MacGyver a diaper disposal unit out of a trash can and a fan.

Denki was holding a candle like it was holy protection.

“She’s too powerful,” he muttered. “This baby runs on nuclear.”

“Not even All Might trained for this,” Sero whispered.

The baby let out a tiny, victorious toot.

Both men froze.

“Brace for impact.”

---

When you returned, you found Sero with clothespins on his nose and Denki wearing swimming goggles for no reason.

“She’s asleep,” Sero said weakly.

“But at what cost?” Denki added.

You scooped up your peacefully snoozing, deceptively innocent child.

Kirishima chuckled. “So… you guys wanna try again next week?”

They spoke in unison: “HELL. NO.”

---

Next up: Aizawa stops by to “observe.”

Can you make a story like the one where Mitsuki walked in on reader and Katsuki? <33

"Ground Zero, Meet Grounded"

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Rating: Spicy / NSFW themes (18+) / Humor / Mild embarrassment

---

The second his bedroom door slammed shut behind you, Katsuki’s lips were already on yours — all heat and hunger, like he’d been starving all day and you were the only thing on the menu.

“God, I needed this,” he growled against your mouth, hands gripping your hips like you’d disappear if he let go. His body was hot — hotter than usual — like he was running on adrenaline and teenage testosterone.

“You’re so impatient,” you whispered, breathless already as he pushed you back toward his bed.

“You wore that fuckin’ skirt on purpose.”

You smiled, smug. “Maybe.”

He groaned, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth. One hand slipped under your shirt, calloused fingers brushing your bare skin. You barely made it to the edge of the bed before he practically tackled you onto it, his mouth never leaving yours for more than a second.

His weight, his heat, the way he kissed you like he had something to prove — it had your heart pounding and thighs clenching.

“You know how much I’ve thought about this today?” he muttered, voice low and rough as his mouth trailed down your neck. “Couldn’t even focus in training. Fuckin’ Deku almost got a hit in.”

“Oh no,” you teased. “Not Deku.”

He growled and bit your collarbone just hard enough to make you gasp. “You’re such a brat.”

Your laugh turned into a soft moan when his hand slid up your thigh, under your skirt, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear. “Look who’s talk—”

The door burst open.

“Katsuki, dinner’s—”

Mitsuki Bakugo’s voice cut off mid-sentence.

You froze. Katsuki froze.

“OH MY GOD.”

A beat.

Then:

“MOM, GET OUT!”

Mitsuki was already turning on her heel, shrieking down the hallway. “MASARU! YOUR SON IS DEFILING SOMEONE’S CHILD IN HIS ROOM!”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, mortified, trying to pull your shirt back down and find where the hell your dignity went.

Katsuki looked like he wanted to die. Or explode the entire house. Possibly both.

“I’m gonna burn this whole fuckin’ place to the ground.”

I feel like ur writing is giving ai.. idk tho

Hey there!

I'm so sorry that you think this way but my stories are 100% written by me, I just have alot of drafts that I need to get rid of, that's why I post so many times a day, and I used to use chatgpt alot at school but I don't use it anymore, but I guess I picked something up from it.

Also this comment is 100% unnecessary

Really sorry you feel that way! But I write 100% all of my stories

Explosive Love: Part 3 – Baby's Day Out (with Deku & Todoroki)

Pairing: Kirishima x Fem!Reader

Featuring: Babysitters Deku and Todoroki

Genre: Fluff, Chaos, Babysitting Misadventures

Summary: With Bakugo officially traumatized, Kirishima calls in backup. Enter: Deku (nervous but willing) and Todoroki (unfazed... for now). They think babysitting can’t be that hard. But no one warned them about the gas.

---

Kirishima stood proudly at your front door, holding your baby out like she was the MVP of the season.

“She’s all yours, boys,” he beamed. “Don’t worry—Bakugo might’ve exaggerated.”

Todoroki blinked. “I heard she took him down in under an hour.”

Deku nodded nervously, already scribbling in a notebook. “According to my calculations, the frequency of her emissions shouldn’t cause structural damage to a normal household…”

Kirishima slapped his back. “Just don’t let her eat anything orange.”

You blinked. “Wait, why not—”

SLAM.

Too late. The door closed. Operation: Babysitter Bros had begun.

---

Thirty minutes in…

“So, uh… she’s really cute,” Deku said, rocking her gently in his arms. “Look at that smile—so sweet and—”

BRRRT!

He froze.

“That… was a strong one.”

Todoroki leaned in. “I think it shook the floor.”

Deku sniffed cautiously. “Why does it smell like… burnt oatmeal and vengeance?”

Todoroki tilted his head. “It’s oddly impressive. Like she has an internal combustion engine.”

The baby kicked and giggled as if in agreement.

PFFFFT.

Deku panicked. “We need containment!”

Todoroki calmly reached for the diaper bag like a man preparing to diffuse a bomb. “I’ve got this.”

---

One hour in…

Todoroki stood stoically, holding a can of air freshener in one hand and your baby in the other.

“She has attacked three times in twenty minutes.”

Deku peeked out from behind a pillow fort. “I think she’s evolving.”

The baby let out a mighty squeal and flopped happily onto the blanket.

“Her power…” Deku whispered, wide-eyed. “It’s unmatched.”

PHBBBT.

“She’s aiming at me now,” Todoroki said, deadpan. “I admire her accuracy.”

Deku scribbled in his notes. “Hero Name: Gas Mask. Quirk: High-Pressure Flatulence.”

“Wait until Aizawa hears about this…”

---

When you and Kirishima returned, the living room looked like the aftermath of a low-level disaster.

Blankets scattered. Windows open. A fan running full blast.

Deku was fanning himself with a baby book. Todoroki was sitting perfectly still, staring into space.

“She’s asleep,” Deku whispered. “But the damage… it’s been done.”

Kirishima picked up the baby gently, like she was made of pure dynamite. “Did she…?”

Todoroki didn’t break eye contact. “She farted on my soul.”

---

Next time: Mina wants to babysit.

hi ash can i pls make another request? if you dont mind uh katsuki bakugo x reader where they are dating and they had a argument in the morning and he just switched off his phone for his work reader is on her way from home and feels like someone is following her-texts him but it doesnt go to him and he likes attacks reader? maybe a sad ending? you dont have to do this if you are busy :) and this is the same anon who requested the weak pregnant reader one thank you so much for doing it loved it :)

Thank you so much omg♡

And no problem with making many requests I love doing them♡ anyways I hope you enjoy♡

"Shattered silence"

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader:

The morning had been rough, filled with sharp words and silence. You and Bakugo had been arguing before he left for work. He didn’t say much, only muttered that he was turning off his phone to focus, as he often did when he was deep in his work. You, frustrated and upset, had let him go without a word, but the silence between you both was deafening. You didn’t understand why he always chose his work over talking things out.

Now, walking down the street, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following you. Your heart raced as you kept your pace steady, glancing over your shoulder every now and then, but you never saw anyone directly. The feeling lingered, though — like a shadow always just behind you, out of sight but never truly gone.

You reached for your phone, hands trembling slightly, and quickly typed out a message to Bakugo. You just wanted to hear his voice, to feel like he cared and was still there, even if it was only through a text.

“Hey, I feel like someone’s following me. I’m really scared, Bakugo… please, talk to me.”

Your thumb hovered over the screen as you hit send, but the message never went through. The phone showed that it had failed to send, the signal having been lost in the middle of nowhere. You tried again, but nothing happened.

Where are you? you thought. He always kept his phone off when he was working, but this felt different. You tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. Your anxiety started to build up, your breaths shallow as you felt eyes on you, as though someone was inching closer.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the alleyway behind you, growing louder. Your eyes darted around for anyone that could help, but there was no one in sight. The street was eerily quiet. Your heart hammered in your chest as the footsteps quickened. You started to run.

Suddenly, a rough hand grabbed your arm, pulling you back with force. You yelped in surprise, your body instantly jerking away, but the grip was too strong.

“Where do you think you’re going, bitch?” a voice sneered. Your stomach dropped as you looked up, only to see a pair of cruel, cold eyes staring down at you.

The world seemed to blur around you as panic set in. You struggled to break free, but the man’s grip was unrelenting, dragging you further into the shadows. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized that there was no escape.

Before you could react, the man’s grip tightened, and you could feel yourself being lifted off the ground. A scream bubbled up in your chest, but it was cut off as a sudden explosion rang out nearby. The force of the blast sent the man flying back, his hold loosening as he was thrown against the wall. The ground shook, and the distant sound of someone shouting your name reached your ears.

“Y/N!” Bakugo’s voice, raw with anger and concern, tore through the air, snapping you out of the daze.

You looked up, your breath shaky, only to see Bakugo standing there, his fists clenched, his body tense with fury. His usual scowl was replaced with a deep, unsettling worry, his eyes scanning over your trembling figure.

“Y/N… what the hell were you thinking?” His voice was harsh, but his concern was clear as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, as if to reassure himself that you were real.

“I— I was scared,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I… I thought someone was following me. I couldn’t reach you. Your phone was off.”

Bakugo's face softened, though a flicker of guilt crossed his features. He had been so absorbed in his work that he had failed to check on you, to make sure you were okay. He never imagined that something like this could happen.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, tightening his hold on you. “I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have… left you like that.”

But as you stood there, his warmth surrounding you, a deep sadness lingered within you. The argument this morning, the silence, the distance — it all hit you harder than it should have. The terror of almost losing him, of being so alone in that moment, gnawed at you.

“I don’t want to feel alone anymore, Bakugo,” you whispered, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. “I don’t want this distance between us. I can’t handle it.”

Bakugo’s heart twisted in his chest. He had always been so focused on his goals, on being the best, but he hadn’t realized how his distance from you — emotionally and physically — had affected you. The harshness of the morning argument and his neglect for your feelings had almost cost him everything.

“I promise, I won’t ever let you feel alone again,” he whispered, pulling you closer. But the damage was already done. The crack in your heart that had been growing for a while couldn’t be repaired with a few words.

As the minutes passed, a heavy silence settled over the two of you. You stayed in his arms, but the weight of everything hung between you, unspoken and unaddressed. Despite the closeness, the rift between you both was still there, and for now, neither of you knew how to fix it.

Hello,

I hope you’re all doing well. 🌿

I need your help to share my family's story and raise awareness about our struggle. Every voice counts, and your support means the world. 🙏

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or, if you're able, consider donating just $5—it could be life-changing for those facing unimaginable hardship.

Your kindness and solidarity make a real difference. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍✨

@aboodfmly

Of course❤️

hii. hope everything is well with you :)

if you’re not too busy can I request a shigaraki x online gamer friend reader. where he becomes friends with a random girl he met while playing league or something (modern au).

maybe even a meet up or something. tyyy!!

"Lagging Hearts"

Shigaraki Tomura wasn’t supposed to care about anyone online. He liked the distance. The screen, the anonymity, the safety of being just a name on a friend list. But then he queued up for a late-night ranked match in League of Legends, and everything started glitching—emotionally speaking.

He met you by chance. Your username—“Pix3lGrrl”—was the kind of cringe he'd usually block. But you locked in midlane fast, started typing callouts in team chat like a drill sergeant, and your sarcasm matched his beat for beat.

“Garen support? Wow. Peak performance,” you typed.

He smirked. Okay, maybe she’s not awful.

One game became three. Then ten. Then nightly Discord calls. You tilted like a pro, cursed like a sailor, and still somehow made him laugh when his fingers were twitching to decay the world.

“You ever stop touching your face when you’re mad?” you teased during a losing streak.

He choked on his soda. “How the hell do you know that?”

“You always stop talking right before you screw up a teamfight. It’s, like, your rage silence.”

He didn’t reply right away. He was too busy… smiling?

—

Weeks passed. He didn’t tell you who he was—what he was. You didn’t ask. It was kind of perfect. The late-night games, the trash talk, your sleepy voice when it got too late and the ranked queue became ARAMs “just for fun.” He found himself waiting for the little Discord chime that said you were online like it was a drug.

One night, after a particularly nasty loss streak, you groaned, “I need a break. Let’s just talk.”

And he did. For hours.

You made him laugh so hard his screen shook. You called him “crusty king” and he didn’t even hate it. You told him about your cat, your weird neighbor, the way your keyboard was missing the F key but you were too lazy to fix it.

He thought about telling you. About his hands. His past. His real name.

Instead, he just asked, “Wanna queue again tomorrow?”

You replied instantly. “Always.”

—

He didn't know what this was—just a gamer friend or something dangerously close to real—but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like disconnecting.

---

It was your idea to meet.

“Well, technically,” you said, “I’m being bribed with bubble tea. But yeah. Let’s meet.”

Shigaraki stared at the message for a full minute. His thumb hovered over the reply button. He’d never seen your face, and you’d never seen his. It had been months now—countless games, DMs, weird late-night rants about anime betrayals and which champions needed nerfs.

He wasn’t ready.

But he said yes anyway.

—

You picked a little gaming café downtown. Neon lights. LED keyboards. The smell of instant noodles and too many Monster cans. You wore a hoodie, same as him, and your hair was a little messier than your Discord icon implied—but it was you. He knew it immediately.

You were sitting with a boba and a Switch, tapping your foot to some lo-fi remix. You looked up and smiled.

“Crusty King?” you teased.

He almost turned around and left.

Instead, he gave a dry little laugh and slid into the seat across from you. “Pix3lGrrl. Didn’t expect you to look so… normal.”

You arched a brow. “Thanks? Didn’t expect you to look like a villain from a dystopian anime.”

He froze.

Your smile faltered for half a second, and then you recovered. “Kidding. I mean—you’ve got the vibe. Grumpy, gray hair, twitchy fingers. Kind of hot, though.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Nothing.”

You both sipped your drinks. Played a couple rounds of Smash on the café’s Switch dock. Laughed a lot. It felt almost like home. Like a weird dream.

But then you leaned in, really looked at him, and asked, “Hey… what do you do, anyway? You’ve never said.”

His hand twitched—just once. He quickly put it in his hoodie pocket. His mouth went dry.

“I… break things.”

You laughed. “Okay, edgy. What does that mean?”

He paused. Then whispered, “My name’s not really Ten.”

“Wait.” Your smile dimmed. “What?”

“I’m Tomura. Shigaraki Tomura.”

You went still.

You knew the name. Everybody did. The guy who vanished after the League crumbled. The one with a death count and a face like a warning sign.

You looked at him, really looked, and then said quietly, “And you… you play Jhin in ranked.”

He blinked. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

You smiled slowly, something tender and a little heartbroken. “You’ve got four kills, and I’m starting to think I’m one of them.”

He opened his mouth—but you held up a hand.

“I'm not running. Just… give me a sec to update my patch notes, alright?”

And then, in the same breath, you asked, “You still down to queue tonight?”