But you know what I’ve never seen?

Someone actually objecting.

The venue was beautiful, if you ignored the fact that your centerpiece was tilting dangerously to the left—one of the many casualties of the morning’s chaos. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, catching the dust motes floating lazily over the rows of guests. Your mom was already crying, and she hadn't even seen you yet.

And then there was Izuku.

At the end of the aisle, standing there like the universe finally decided to cut you a break. Green hair a little messier than he probably intended. Suit a little too tight in the shoulders. And that smile—the one that made you forget you'd spent the last four hours verbally sparring with a wedding coordinator who seemed personally offended by the concept of ice sculptures.

Yeah. This was worth it.

The officiant—some guy Aizawa had vouched for—droned through the standard script. Vows. Rings. You barely registered any of it. All you could focus on was the way Izuku’s hands were shaking slightly as he slid the ring onto your finger, and the way his breath caught when he looked at you.

“If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The room went quiet. The kind of quiet that makes your ears ring. Somewhere in the back row, a baby gurgled.

And then a chair scraped against the floor.

Every single head turned.

Ochako Uraraka stood.

Her cheeks were flushed. Her hands trembled at her sides. Momo reached for her arm, whispering something urgent, but Ochako gently pulled away. Mina mouthed sit down from two seats over. She didn't.

Bakugou, front row, looked like he was actively fighting every instinct in his body to not blow up the entire venue.

You know what? I'm going to say it.

This wedding was cursed from the cake delivery.

What do you do?