#doing his best to be in shouto's life now despite him still being uncomfortable himself

[tamireli]

Natsuo mentally preparing to go to Fuyu's family dinner ✊

#mha #bnha #todoroki family #natsuo todoroki #todoroki shouto #natsuo's mouse gf #my art #he is a good brother #doing his best to be in shouto's life now despite him still being uncomfortable himself #😔✊💙

[thathopelessromantic]

Reckless Good (1/?)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Fic Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Teen+

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku

Note: Part of the @tododekubigbang for 2021! I'm super excited to share this AU with everyone. And please check out the awesome compaion art from @cryptidcatgod for chapter six!

Todoroki Shouto had accepted his fate as a public figure when he became a pro-hero, but there are some parts of his private life he would like to stay private. When he gets invited to be a speaker in a college lecture series, he goes to the meeting with one goal: to give the coordinator a piece of his mind and finally put an end to people hounding him for information about his family.

The last thing he expects is the curious, and quirkless, hero- and quirk-study professor, Midoriya Izuku, who has no interest in his family's history, and, somehow, even more ties to the hero industry than Shouto. Intrigued by the professor, Shouto tentatively agrees to the lecture series, unknowingly intertwining their futures.

But the more Todoroki sees of Midoriya, the more questions he has. When a villain attack leaves them living together until the culprits are apprehended, maybe he'll finally get some answers.

AO3: (x)

Dear Pro-Hero Entropy,

On behalf of Musutafu University, I would like to cordially invite you to be a speaker in our first annual Hero Talks series. We anticipate university students, as well as members of the public from all walks of life, will be interested in hearing from 10 different pro-heroes, over the course of ten-weeks between September and November, as they discuss their experience in the hero industry, the details of their jobs, and the unique quirks they’ve encountered or that helped them in becoming the heroes of today.

I would be extremely grateful if you were willing to share your expertise and be a part of the series. You would be an excellent addition to our program, and our line-up of great heroes that already includes current number one, Pro-Hero Lemillion, the Permeation Hero, and the well-respected, Youthful Heroine Recovery Girl.

Please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any questions. I look forward to hearing from you!

X 

“I think you should do it.”

Shouto pauses with his cup half-way to his mouth as the silence that had fallen over them is finally broken. Momo primly takes a sip of her tea, pointedly avoiding his astonished look.

“…What?”

Momo clears her throat, placing her teacup back on the table and sitting up, somehow, straighter in her chair. Despite the fact that they are in her home, she looks decidedly more uncomfortable than he feels, even by the bizarre direction of their conversation. “I think you should do it. I think it would be a good opportunity for you, Shouto.”

“Have you met me?” he asks incredulously. “There’s nothing ‘good’ about anything that includes me and talking.”

His phone, with the offending email still pulled up on the darkening screen, sits on the table between them. He doesn’t realize he is glaring at it until Momo plucks it up and away from his line of sight. Waking up the screen, she reads over the email again. He doesn’t know why she bothers – they must have poured over it together at least three or four times when he first arrived, dumbfounded by yet another invitation and nearly laughing over the ridiculous concept of him giving a talk on a college campus.

“It’s not like you would have to wing it, it’s still only April now, so the series won’t be taking place until the second term. You would have time to come up with a topic, write a speech, prepare.”

“No one wants to listen to me read from a piece of paper for an hour,” he replies drolly. “And I don’t have anything to talk about that long, anyways.”

It is her turn to stare at him incredulously from across the table. He resists the urge to squirm under the disbelieving look. Finally, Momo sighs, returning his phone to the table.

“I think you underestimate what people would be willing to listen to,” she clears her throat. “You have a unique perspective on the hero industry that very few have, or get to hear about-”

“Because my dad was a dick?”

“Due to being raised by a hero," she continues on, as if he hadn't spoken. "And not just any hero, but someone who was the number two hero for a very long time, and even briefly the number one hero. Very few heroes nowadays have children, and even fewer have children who go on to follow in their footsteps. You’re a legacy.”

“I’m the only one of any of Endeavor’s kids to become a hero. If they wanted to hear about hero family legacies, they should have contacted Iida.”

Momo sighs, rubbing her temples. He’s noticed her doing that around him with increasing frequency these days. “Well I believe they did, actually. And he agreed.”

Shouto leans back in his seat. “Then he can talk all about being a legacy. What would they need to hear from me for?”

Momo is quiet for a very long time. “…Well-”

“No.”

“You brought it up.”

“Not seriously. I’m not going to talk about that.”

“It was just a suggestion. You, your family, have kept things remarkably quiet after it all went down, and I understand wanting to protect your privacy, considering it really is none of their business, but people are always going to have questions. It’s been years since the trial and the media still asks you every year. At least this way, if you talked about it, you could control the narrative.”

Shouto looks away. The setting sun is just out of sight from the dining room window, but it paints the neighbor’s house and the trees along the road a warm orange. The anniversary of the trial, of his father’s fall from grace in the public eye was just a few weeks away, still looming over him, even years after the fact. He has no interest in ‘controlling the narrative.’ He’d rather not think about it at all, actually. But just like every year before, as the date grew closer, the media got more frantic, more invasive.

You would think after more than ten years of radio silence from the Todoroki family they would finally get discouraged, and yet…

Sensing he wasn’t interested in pursuing this topic of conversation any longer, Momo changes tactics, carefully pulling his thoughts from a dangerous spiral. “Or you could have a meeting with the person who invited you. See what topic they had in mind for you.”

Shouto glances at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Well they didn’t just mass invite heroes, the invitations have only gone out to a select few. I’m assuming the coordinator had some idea of what they thought those particular heroes would talk about.” There is a quiet click of her nails against the glass table top as she picks up his phone once more. “You could set up a meeting with him and see what he had in mind. If the topic is something you’re comfortable talking about, wonderful. If not, you can decline the invitation, and all you’ve wasted is an afternoon.”

Something clicks in his head and Shouto sits up again, an idea brewing. He turns his attention back to her. “I still don’t want to give a talk,”

“Shouto-”

“But you have a point. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

Momo smiles, but her brows shoot up, a clear indication of her surprise at – and her suspicion over – his quick surrender. “I’m…a little shocked you agree.”

“Well you’d just keep bothering me about it if I didn’t at least talk to him, wouldn’t you?” She glares at him but doesn’t refute the accusation. “But isn’t it just the dean of the school that sent the emails? He’s probably not the sole coordinator.”

“No,” She shakes her head, handing his phone back over. “It says here he’s a professor.”

 Midoriya Izuku, Ph.D.

Professor of Hero and Quirk Studies

Musutafu University

[email protected]

X

It takes two days after his talk with Momo for Shouto to get around to even opening the professor’s response to his request for a meeting.

Kyouka watches him suspiciously from where she’s draped over his office chair as he paces in front of his desk. “What’s wrong with you?”

She takes an obnoxious sip of her coffee. The smell has permeated the entire room and it makes something in his stomach curl with longing, but his doctor made it explicitly clear that he was to take an extended break from the drink after letting it serve as breakfast, lunch, and dinner a few too many days in a row. Something more painful than longing – perhaps an ulcer he may or may not have given himself from his liquid diet – twists his stomach.

“Why are you even here?”

Kyouka sighs at his question, her head lolling back as she sinks deeper into the chair. He’s not totally sure what she’s doing. He knows for a fact those chairs aren’t comfortable. His best attempt to keep people from staying in his office longer than absolutely necessary.

“Kyouka?”

She takes another sip of her coffee. He has absolutely no idea how she doesn’t spill it all over herself in that position.

“Momo asked me to talk to you.”

He stops pacing long enough to determine that she’s telling the truth. “…Why?”

“Because she doesn’t think you’ve emailed the professor back about that hero series yet.”

He glances at his computer. At the unread email blinking at the top of his inbox, taunting him. “I’m not saying she’s right…but why does she want you to talk to me about it?”

She swings her legs off the arm of the chair to sit up right and glare at him. “I resent the insinuation that I am not a great candidate for making you get your shit together. But,” she stands up, dropping her cup onto his desk and crossing her arms. Her expression is fierce, but he recognizes the barely-there flush high on her cheeks and the nervous twitch of her earphone jacks. “I was also invited to be a part of the series.”

Shouto stops, sinking into his desk chair. Invitations like this were usually a pain for him. For one, he hated public speaking – or even extended conversations. As one of the top students at U.A., however, and as the son of a well-known hero, he had been getting requests for talks and interviews and special features for years. Most of which he usually ignored, knowing what it was they wanted him to talk about. But he knows an invitation like this can be special. Especially for someone like Kyouka, who doesn’t have particularly strong connections with the hero industry, even after graduating U.A. Her parents’ reputation and her internship with Present Mic made her more of a celebrity in the music industry than a well-known hero, despite all the great work she did.

“Kyouka,” he says quietly, earnestly, so that she pays attention to him. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she replies with a small smile, before her expression changes again. “But shut up, Todoroki. That’s not the point. Momo thinks you’ll be dragging your feet over getting back to the professor. But when she told me about how quickly you agreed, I got a feeling there was something else going on.” She braces her hands on his desk and leans into his personal space, jacks floating threateningly close to his throat. “You were gonna set up that meeting, and then just give him a hard time, weren’t you?”

Shouto freezes, caught. “Uh…”

It’s not exactly an admission, but Kyouka throws her head back and laughs, anyways. “I knew it. We’ve all been waiting for when you finally got fed up and picked a victim. I’m honestly surprised it’s taken this long.”

Shouto doesn’t mean for the quiet, astonished chuckle to slip out, but he supposes if it’s Kyouka, it’s alright. There’s a devilish glint in her eyes as she drops back into her chair.

“So,” she asks. “What are you waiting for?”

“You’re really not going to stop me?”

“We’re public figures, the media has never been interested in respecting our privacy, but we’ve all spent years watching you get hounded over your parents’ divorce and your father’s trial. If this is just another asshole trying to get a scoop, or recognition for finally getting you to spill, he deserves it. Everyone would agree. Well…Tenya and Momo might frown at your approach, but I still think they’d support the general idea. And well,” she shrugs. “If he is just an asshole, all the better for the rest of us to know now so we don’t support what he’s trying to do.”

He hesitates, mouse hovering over the professor’s email. “Are you sure?”

She scowls, though there isn’t any heat behind it. “If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t say it.” She comes around the desk to stand behind him. “Now hurry up, I have a patrol to get to.”

Reaching down, she opens the email before he can react.

Thank you so much for your interest! Of course we can meet to discuss the details of the series more. Below are my office hours when I will be on the Musutafu University campus. If you are not available for any of those times, please let me know when would work best for you and we can plan a meeting then.

Kyouka leans over his shoulder to read the email.

“Tuesday’s your day off next week, right?”

Shouto rolls his eyes but opens a new draft to reply.

Kyouka grins. “Good boy. I will report your excellent behavior to Momo.” She ruffles his hair before heading for the door, grabbing her coffee cup off his desk as she goes.

“Fuck off.”

She tosses her head back and laughs again. “Give ‘em hell.”

X

They make plans to meet in a few days, when Shouto has some time off, and the professor forwards his office room number and three different maps of campus “just in case.” Which Shouto found ridiculous….at the time.

Now he’s here, and has been wandering around for God knows how long. It takes approximately ten minutes for Shouto to admit he’s lost, and another five minutes for him to get frustrated over still being lost. He wasn’t sure what to expect of the university campus, but, clearly, he did not prepare enough in advance. The large, sprawling buildings remind him of U.A.’s campus, but rather than extra training grounds, the spaces between are grassy plots filled with students relaxing under the shade of trees or soaking up the sun on blankets. Instead of practicing hand-to-hand, the students sit in clusters pouring over textbooks or typing away on laptops. And they, of course, all appear perfectly at home amongst the labyrinth of lecture halls.

The paved plaza in the middle of all the activity hosts a large fountain and a statue of a man with large, curling horns coming from his temples that Shouto assumes has some kind of importance to the school, but that he doesn’t recognize.

He forwent his hero-suit for jeans, a button-up, and a leather jacket – in addition to sunglasses, a mask, and a baseball cap. The clothing seemed to blend in well enough with the other students, if not a tad understated, but his distinct hair and scar are not so easily hidden and soon enough he notices students staring, following his movements back and forth across campus or whispering amongst themselves.

Eventually, a few brave students manage to catch him as he is trying to reorient himself. Again.

“Um, excuse me, are you pro-hero Entropy?” a girl asks. Two friends flank her, staring with wide eyes.

Caught, he pulls down his mask. “Ah, yes. Hello.”

“Oh my gosh! Hi-Hello, I’m wow…I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s really great to meet you!”

“Are you here about the Hero Talks series!?” one of her friends asks suddenly, quickly slapping a hand over her mouth after the loud outburst.

Well…they aren’t wrong, and maybe they can help him. “It’s…something like that.” He agrees carefully.

The three light up with smiles, two of them jumping up and down in excitement.

“Dr. Midoriya is going to be so excited, oh my gosh!”

“You know the professor?”

All three nod excitedly. “We’re all in his Intro to Combat Analysis lecture! He’s been gushing about this series since he got permission last semester!” the third student finally chimes in.

Perfect. “Do you know where I could find his office? I’m supposed to be meeting with him, but I’ve gotten a little turned around.”

The three jump to help direct him to the right building, gushing all the while over the professor and his classes. By the time they finally part ways, Shouto feels a little guilty about his plan to give the professor a piece of his mind over the whole thing and misleading them about his intention to join the series. They were nice girls after all.

Someone bumps into him before he reaches the building, sending him stumbling off the sidewalk.

“I’m so sorry,” a bright voice calls, gently pulling Shouto back onto the pavement. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you alright?”

Large, bright green eyes behind thin, wire-framed glasses give him a quick once-over, as if looking for injuries. The man meets his gaze through his sunglasses for a moment before glancing down at his wrist watch again. Somehow, he feels even more dazed meeting the man’s eyes than simply being booted off the sidewalk.

“…yes I’m fine, thank you.”

The man gives him a dazzling smile, flashing one dimple and further accentuating the smattering of freckles over his cheeks. “Good, good. Sorry again.” With a quick bow, the man is on his way again and headed into the building before them. The same building Shouto was headed.

Shaking off the strange feeling left behind, he waits a few moments, so as not to appear as if he was following the bright-eyed man, and goes inside. Along the wall there are signs directing visitors to particular room numbers or restrooms, and a bulletin board nearly as long as the wall is tall, full of posters advertising events happening around campus, and Musutafu, as well as ads looking for roommates or a reminder about signing up for a study abroad program. Right in the corner, as if attached as an after-thought, or a secret, there’s a small, handwritten flyer declaring the First Annual Hero Talks series could be counted as credits for Quirk or Hero Study students looking for an independent study if they met with Dr. Mirdoriya before the end of the term. Shouto almost takes the flyer before he realizes, realistically, that the students who might be interested in such a thing would probably benefit from it more than his brief curiosity needed to be sated.

Turning from the wall, he sets out for the stairs. The students instructed him to take the staircase on the far end of the east hall (the closest to the professor’s office, supposedly), to the third floor, where the professor’s office would be the third door on the left.

Midoriya Izuku is written clearly on a small sign hanging outside of the office. A small box sits under it, stuffed full of papers and folders that Shouto assumes are from students. The professor’s half-open door is covered in colorful posters and stickers – including, Shouto realizes, another copy of the flyer about the series and a poster of him, Pro-Hero Entropy, from his debut year. He looks away from his younger self and knocks on the door.

“Dr. Midoriya?” he calls, poking his head into the office.

The first thing he notices is that the hero-memorabilia on the door has absolutely nothing on what’s inside the office. More posters cover the entire front of the professor’s desk, and from the looks of it the top of his computer. Mixed between dozens of books on the shelves and filing cabinets filling two of the four walls are hero-figurines and framed pictures of heroes or preserved comic books. Even more posters and framed pictures cover the rest of the walls.

The second thing he notices, is that the broad-shouldered man dropping a beat-up, leather satchel to the ground besides the desk, is the same man who ran into him outside.

Dr. Midoriya whirls around, greeting him with another 100-watt smile. “Ah yes! Hello- oh! It’s you.”

“Ah, yes.” Shouto shuffles a little further into the office, he pulls his mask down under his chin and takes his sunglasses off, tucking them into the collar of his shirt. After a second's thought, he pulls off his cap as well, shoving the bill into his back pocket.

Dr. Midoriya’s jaw drops, his eyes comically wide, for approximately three seconds, before he comes back into himself, steeling his expression. His hands flutter nervously around his head for a moment and then he smiles again.

“Entropy! Welcome! I’m so sorry I did not recognize you before. Please, come in. Take a seat. Did you find your way through campus alright?”

Shouto gives a small bow, mumbling a thank you, as he comes further into the office to sit in one of the two small chairs before the desk. A poster of some of his old classmates is hung at knee-level, and even on paper, Momo's serious expression is judging him. Kyouka is egging him on.

Dr. Midoriya still stands behind his desk, staring at Shouto like he’s not sure what to make of him sitting in his office.

“Uh…Dr. Midoriya?”

The professor snaps back to life. “Yes! Sorry, sorry,” he sits down finally, pulling off his glasses and putting them to the side. “Welcome, again, to Musutafu University. And thank you for taking some time out of your busy schedule to consider our series! I really can’t tell you how thrilled I was to get your email.”

Shouto shifts in his seat. The professor talks with his hands, and every movement seems to pull the beige-colored cardigan he’s wearing even tighter around his biceps. Shouto isn’t usually one to speculate about others’ quirks unless in a fight, but he wonders now if the professor has some kind of strength-augmenting quirk – and if he does, how adept is he at using it if Shouto pisses him off? The potential of getting his ass kicked has never stopped Shouto before, but he can already hear the lecture he’d get from Momo, and probably Fuyumi, if he made the news for destroying a college building in a fight with a civilian professor.

Honestly, the property damage would probably be the least of their worries if he starts fighting with civilians.

“I know you don’t normally work with the media or make non-heroic work public appearances so I figured it was a long shot for you to even consider being a part of the series, but I really think you would make an amazing feature.”

Shouto shifts in his seat. Here it comes, he thinks. He really should have prepared what exactly he was going to say more, but he figured it would just come to him in the moment. Now, for some reason, he’s nervous. As if he would accidentally agree or something else equally absurd.

How this sweater had contained the man’s arms so far was a miracle, honestly.  

“…but quirks are mutating, or rather evolving, at an astonishing rate. Every generation we see quirks getting stronger than those of previous generations but more and more we are now seeing children with quirks that have little to no relation to their parent’s quirks, or a manifestation of some kind of combination of quirks. You gained attention early on for being one of the first heroes, or even hero-in-training, to have multiple quirks.

“Now that it’s becoming more common, hearing first hand from someone who has had to learn how to control and gain mastery over two separate quirks would be invaluable information, especially for many quirk-study students who will be working with parents and children who are going through this for the first time, and for those who may have some form of a combination quirk but did not have the benefit of a hero-course education that could teach them proper control.”

Wait…what?

“What?”

Dr. Midoriya startles, glancing between Shouto and something unseen in the air around him. “Oh…” he winces. “I’m sorry. Was I mumbling again? I apologize, sometimes my brain works faster than my mouth and I get carried away, where did I…never mind, I’ll start again…slower. So, when quirks first appeared-”

Shouto holds up a hand to stop the professor and his jaw snaps shut with an audible click. “You want me to talk about my quirk?”

“…Yes?”

“Not…my family?”

Dr. Midoriya lowers his arms to the top of his desk, folding his hands together. Shouto thinks it might be the first time he has seen him completely still since they first ran into each other outside.

Now that they’re closer, and his hands aren’t moving, Shouto can also see surprisingly large scars running over the professor’s fingers and onto the backs of his hands. Those definitely don’t look like something you would get as a teacher. At least not as a normal, non-hero course teacher.

“Do you want to talk about your family?”

He shifts awkwardly in his seat. The professor’s serious attention directed all at him is suddenly unnerving somehow. “Well, no, I don’t.”

Dr. Midoriya nods, once. “Okay.” A pause. “Honestly, I was surprised to even hear you ask, I hadn’t considered broaching the topic for something like this.”

“You didn’t?” he asks incredulously.

Dr. Midoriya pins him with an expression he can’t interpret but inexplicably reminds him of Aizawa back in high school when he was frustrated with students or a lesson or even a fellow teacher. Especially All Might.

“Entropy, you have made it very clear in the past that you have no interest in talking about what happened to your family publicly. And that is your right. No one is owed anything about your personal life. If you suddenly decided you wanted to talk about what happened, and you wanted to use the Hero Talks series as your platform, you would be more than welcome to do so. Honestly, the publicity from that one lecture alone would probably be enough to guarantee the university allowing this series again in the future. But that is not why I asked you to be a part of it. You want to keep your private affairs private, and I respect that. I picked heroes who I knew the public would be interested in hearing from, but also who would have the most helpful information to offer to the students who are studying these topics, and, frankly, they would learn far more hearing about your quirk than your…homelife.”

“I…I wouldn’t know what to talk about.” Shouto admits awkwardly.

Dr. Midoriya smiles softly. “That’s okay. I can give you some general topics to consider, or more specific questions to think about as main points if that would be more helpful. Let me see…” he turns around in his chair, shifting to the side, and Shouto can see the shelves just under the view of the desk are stuffed full of identical notebooks, each with a carefully penned number on the binding. The professor pulls one out and flips through it. Almost every page is crammed with scrawling handwriting, some written sideways or upside down, squeezed into every blank space he could find. The slightly-less busy pages have drawings of heroes or costumes or diagrams Shouto can’t interpret from the quick, upside-down glance he gets of them.

From his seat Shouto could see there were, at least, two shelves of these notebooks. Were they all like that?

Finally, the professor finds what he’s looking for with a satisfied hum. He sets the notebook on the desk, turning it so Shouto can see. The page is marginally less chaotic than others he saw. At the top, in surprisingly neat handwriting and underlined three times, it reads: Questions for Multiple-Quirk Usage (Entropy).

The rest of the page is made up of dozens of questions about his quirk. Some, Shouto imagines, are just general questions for anyone with multiple quirks to consider (Do you activate both quirks the same way?  Can you use them both simultaneously?) and get progressively tailored to questions about his quirk, like if there are places he can’t use one quirk or the other and the temperature ranges of his fire and ice, if particular environmental factors affect his ability to use either of them.

“Uh…”

Dr. Midoriya scratches the back of his head sheepishly. He hides a nervous laugh with a cough before taking the notebook back and closing it. The light isn’t strong in the office, but Shouto is positive the professor is blushing.

“Of course, if a list of topics or questions is something you would be interested in, I can provide you with a neater – and shorter – list. This was just a-a demonstration that there is a lot to consider when it comes to multiple quirks. Of course, not all of that would be relevant for a lecture, and admittedly some are just personal curiosities, but…anyways,” he clears his throat. “I’m assuming if you came here thinking I was going to ask about your family…you don’t actually want to be a part of the series.”

Shouto crosses his arms over his chest, sitting back in his chair. Does he want to be a part of a public lecture series? No. But now he is undeniably curious about this professor and how the hell his brain works.

“Do you have a notebook page like that for every hero?”

“Every hero? That would be impossible…well maybe not impossible-” Shouto raises a brow and the professor bites his tongue. “Maybe…most Japanese heroes since…early Silver Age and well-known international heroes? And any American heroes who would have overlapped with All Might’s time either learning or working in America.”

“How long have you been making those?”

He looks down a little wistfully at the question, thumbing gently at the corner of the page. “I was probably four or five when I started my first one,” he admits with a quiet laugh. “None that are here are quite that old, though.”

Shouto has…so many questions.

There’s a quiet buzz of the professor’s phone going off. He excuses himself for a moment and pulls the cell out of his pocket. His case has the design of All Might’s Golden Age costume.

“I’m sorry, Entropy, I have another meeting and I teach a class after so I can’t talk much longer today.”

“I should be getting going anyways.” Shouto says, standing up and Dr. Midoriya shoots out of his chair.

“Right, yes, of course. I’m sorry we probably took up more of your time than you meant to. Thank you for coming in, it was an honor to speak with you.”

Shouto feels like “honor” is a bit much, he didn’t really even say much at all, and he came here with rather rude intentions but, he doesn’t really know how to argue with the professor’s enthusiasm.

His brain and his good sense, and the small bit of self-preservation he has left, all tell him to keep going, to accept the professor’s gracious dismissal and move on, but he finds himself hesitating in the doorway anyways.

“Uh…Entropy? Is everything alright?” Dr. Midoriya asks, looking at him curiously.

Oh hell.

“If you send me the list, of topics…I’ll think about it.”

Dr. Midoriya’s entire being lights up. “Really?”

Oh, he was really going to regret this.

“…Yes.”

“Thank you! I will forward it to you right away!” He drops into a bow so deep, so quickly, he slams his head into the top of the desk.

Both of them freeze at the resounding crack that echoes in the small room. Shouto takes a step back into the office, already reaching for the professor.

“Are you alright?”

Dr. Midoriya straightens, looking a little dazed but mostly just embarrassed. There’s a bright red mark on his forehead. “Oh my God.” He whispers.

Shouto is surprised, and a little ashamed, by how hard it is to keep himself from laughing at the horrified expression. “Dr. Midoriya, are you-”

The desk gives a sudden, heaving creak and tips sideways. The two watch helplessly as the desk collapses, sending the clutter on top flying across the floor.

Dr. Midoriya makes a strangled noise, covering his face with his hands. “Not again.”

Again?

There are rushed footsteps outside and a young woman with six eyes and lavender hair piled in a high bun peeks her head in through the half-open door. “Dr. Midoriya, did you break something again?”

“I’m sorry Kobayashi.” He bows his head again, though not nearly as low this time, and keeps his face covered.

Kobayashi tuts disapprovingly. “I’ll call for another,” she says, already turning on her heel to leave.

“Thank you, Kobayashi.”

Shouto bends down to gather some of the papers that scattered around his feet. Dr. Midoriya lowers his hands, immediately stumbling over the mess when he sees Shouto cleaning.

“Please Entropy, thank you, but that’s not necessary.”

“It’s fine,” he waves off the worries. “Where would you like these things?”

“Uh,” Dr. Midoriya looks around the office for a moment. “Here, thank you.” Taking the papers from him he makes a neat pile on his un-damaged desk chair.

It’s quick work for the two of them to straighten up the rest of the room, though the professor takes a moment to mourn his cracked eyeglasses, and then again when he realizes some of the posters were damaged by the desk’s fall.

“Thank you again, Entropy. I’m so sorry about all the trouble.”

“It’s…fine.” Shouto says dumbly. “Well I should…go, now.”

“Yes, of course! I’m sorry about taking up even more of your time. Thank you for coming in.”

Before Shouto can reply, two new people arrive, knocking once before they shuffle into the office. Shouto moves further into the room, out of the way, as they collect the broken desk and carry it out of the room.

For a moment, they stand in silence, Shouto coming up with about a hundred more questions about the professor, while Dr. Midoriya stands nearby, twisting his hands together in embarrassment. Finally, his common-sense kicks in enough that after another short good-bye, Shouto manages to walk himself out of the office and down the stairs without doing anything else stupid or impulsive.

He passes someone on his way to the doors, so focused on getting out of the building that he doesn’t notice until they call his name.

He recognizes the wild purple hair and slouched stance of the man approaching him, but nearly dismisses the similarities on principle.

“Shinso? Since when do you come out while the sun’s still up?” He asks.

Ignoring the jab, Shinso pulls off a pair of sunglasses and looks him up and down. Despite also being a part of U.A.’s hero course in high school, Shinso promptly went underground after graduation and has been working in the shadows long enough that only some other pros and hardcore hero-fans are able to recognize him out of costume. “What are you doing here?”

“I was…I had a meeting with a professor,” he admits.

Shouto doesn’t know Shinso well, but he swears he looks surprised by the admission.

And then he laughs. “I can’t believe he actually did it. Good for him.”

Shouto isn’t totally sure he heard him correctly, but when he asks, Shinso makes an expression he can’t figure out and changes the subject.

“I’ll see you later, Todoroki.” He says with a wave.                                                                         

Shouto waves back, unsure of what to make of the interaction, and watches as Shinso disappears up the same stairs he just descended.

Shoving the strange interaction out of his head, he pushes open the doors and steps outside.

Then he calls Kyouka.

She picks up after two rings. “Did you make him cry?”

He can hear Momo scold her from the background.

“No, but I think I fucked up.”

Kyouka is quiet for a moment but based on the noise he hears in the background, he thinks she’s moving further away from Momo. When she speaks again, her voice is quieter. “Fucked up how? Like news crews are coming to report the damage and you might be going to jail for beating up an old, civilian professor-fucked up?”

Faintly, Shouto wonders what it says about him that both he and Kyouka assumed the worst-case scenario for this meeting was him fighting with a civilian.

“No, fucked up like…I didn’t tell him ‘no’?”

#bnha #mha #tddk #tododeku #tododeku big bang 2021 #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #fic #rita writes #6.17.21 #fic: reckless good

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Enji doesn't realize he's adopted Hawks until he has a nightmare about protecting his (5) kids & Hawks is one of them. He tries to tell himself that dreams aren't meant to be taken seriously but he can't deny it after a week of worrying & feeling oddly affectionate towards the kid. He doesn't know how to handle it especially on top of his family issues. But it slips in when he starts to get overprotective in the field. Hawks is taken aback by the changes. In the midst of Hawks dealing w/his own

issues w/his parents Enji acts w/out thinking & puts a comforting hand against his head. It's the same gesture Hawks has seen Enji give (or attempt to give) his kids. Both realize the parental gesture at the same time. Hawks has no idea how to deal w/the sudden change in their dynamic. Everyone thinks Enji did something bad because neither knows how to approach it. Hawks tries to switch to his happy facade out of habit but Enji calls him out on it because he knows it's fake. Rei & the others think its time to finally talk about their unspoken adoption. Hawks is just so uncomfortable the whole time because he's not used to people wanting him & he's not sure what he should do. Rei tells him to take time to think about it but not to push them away. No one bothers him at dinner but he's still trying hard to comprehend being accepted into a family. 

~~~

He lies awake that night in his own bed, at his own apartment, wondering what to do with these feelings. They’re not bad feelings, per se - just uncomfortable. He doesn’t hate them or not appreciate them, but he just doesn’t know what to do when he feels them. He doesn't know what to do with a father figure raising a hand to him in a sign of affection and comfort for his emotional struggles. He's doesn't have a memory of a mother who lovingly smiled at him, held his hand, and excitedly told him she packed his favorite things in his lunch because she knows he has a lot to do that day. He's always dreamed about it, but now that he has it-?

His breath hitches. He has it now? If he does, why does it not feel as good and magical as it's supposed to? Why isn't his heart full of sunshine and butterflies like it should be, and why does thinking about it leave him nauseated and dizzy? He remembers those rare, lonely nights in a room as a tiny boy just wishing someone would hear him crying after a nightmare, come through the door and hold him until he felt safe enough to fall back asleep. Now he has people willing to offer as much at the slightest hint he might want it, and all he wants to do in response is shrink away.

He feels like he's done something wrong - he doesn't belong here! This isn't his family. They left him behind a long time ago. He isn't their son or their brother. He can't replace Touya.

He frowns at the memory of Touya's picture in the family butsudan. It was surreal at how different the feelings and memories of the boy was among members of the family, and he felt so out of place that despite technically having met that person the boy in the photo was a complete stranger. He never told the family he overheard their conversations about not knowing whether or not to take it down the photo or to keep performing the daily rituals after truth about Dabi came to light.

God help him, he really doesn't belong here.

But they want him there, don't they? He's not quite sure why - he just started showing up because of business; but eventually that became pleasure instead. Now they don't want him to leave. He also doesn't want to leave. What a mess.

"Just stay." The little voice in his head gently prods him. "This is ok. It's not bad."

He has a quick flashback to being little again and testing out his writing lessons by spelling out "Todoroki Keigo" in secret on a piece of scrap paper. Ugh, he wishes he could fold himself into a tiny piece of paper and float away on the breeze - how embarrassing. He also can't help but wonder what that same little boy would think if he knew what he knows now about the Todoroki household.

"But it's not like that anymore. They're happy. You're happy."

"Not completely." He allows himself to answer out loud, to dispell the lie. He thinks about the grimace on Natsuo's face whenever his father came up in conversation. He thinks of the tiny ticks of each family member used to things being a different way - a bad way - as they try to adjust to a new reality. Flinches, held breathes, increased heart rates - even those with the best poker faces can't hide that from him.

"That family won't ever be able to go back to the way it was."

It was quiet for a while, with just the ambient hum of the city outside his window for a backdrop when the voice spoke up again.

"...Maybe that's why they want you to stay."

He blinks. They're not the same. He's different from them, and maybe it is easier for them to be ok with that because... they're also trying to be different?

He's not sure what he's trying to tell himself, but something kind of makes sense in it. Maybe it's not a matter of him fitting into something old the way it used to be because what they're attempting to change into isn't the old thing anymore. Maybe they're not trying to fit him into an old spot to fill something that's now empty. Maybe they're making a new one for him so there's room for him to be there.

It still doesn't do anything to answer the question he's afraid to ask: why him?

He hates that question. He hates every time he has to ask it. It's never a good reason. He's either the default or the last resort. It's never been a good thing.

It's quiet again. He closes his eyes and lets the answer fly away unanswered.

"... Because they like you."

His eyes suddenly open. They like him? Well, sure, everyone likes him - even grudgingly. He makes it a point to be liked or to be enjoyable to hate. But... They do like him, don't they?

Recent memories fly into his head. Shared jokes and heckles. Smiles. Concerned gazes. Rosy cheeks and empty sake bottles around the kotatsu. Words of encouragement, admiration, and appreciation. Not remembering falling asleep after dinner but waking up to a blanket draped around his shoulders.

Maybe... Maybe they do like him.

"I don't want to go away."

God, not the water works. He screws his eyes shut at the prick in the corners of his eyes.

"I want to stay."

He can't stop the images of each Todoroki and their preferred ways to address him. Whenever Endeavor used to address him before it was short and terse; but, "Hawks" always had a note of warmth in it these days. His relationship with Rei was cold and professional at first, but now when she called to him, it was so soothing to hear knowing it came accompanied with a welcome into her home. The way Fuyumi used his name to scold him at his antics was the exact same she used for her brothers. It may have started ironically, but Natsuo refers to him almost exclusively as "Aniki" at this point, and now even Shouto occasionally says it long after the joke is over.

He takes slow, steady breathes to even himself out again and keep the tears from falling. He isn't about to call all of them liars. They don't have a reason to lie to him. They mean it when they tell him that they consider him family.

"I'm so sorry if we ever made you uncomfortable," Cool hands cup his as he recollects earlier that night, "...and it would be understandable given what you've been through. I can only hope you believe me when I say that our home is your home, and you will always be welcomed like family here because..."

"Please, I want to see them again."

Ok.

Maybe he's not ready to completely jump into this. It still feels too much like a fantasy to be real yet. He doesn't want to run away, either, though. This is something he's only dreamed of having his whole life, even if it feels overwhelming in the moment. For now, he'll just go back and take it slow. He can't necessarily pretend nothing happened, but he does want to embrace that it has even it he just has to take it one day at a time.

He can't help but give a chuckle.

Todoroki Keigo, huh?

#she speaks #let's talk hawks #she writes #i don't know what the addition is but I wanted to tack it on #thanks for sending me your writing anon! #i always try to get back to these longer asks and share them with everyone #even if it takes me a minute

[burnedbyshoto]

Renewed

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warning: cursing, character death (you and me)

word count: 2,173

a/n: this is part two to replacement, read and let me know what you think! I would mcfucking love it to scream about your ideas and opinions :D forgot to add, no there is no part 3

Synopsis: When the beautiful hero Creati dies what emerges from the ashes of her end is anything but beautiful.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

The winds of the outside world spoke softly as they flowed into an empty apartment. Why the window was open, to begin with, was unknown, the world was too cold, too harsh for any window to be open. But if you looked closely, if you concentrate just as much, smoke billowed out of the window and panicked breathing could be heard.

It mattered not to Todoroki Shouto how cold the outside world was because he was always colder. As tears poured from his eyes he couldn’t remember why he was feeling this way. 

Was it because Momo or was it because of you.

It couldn’t be you, that was pathetic of him to believe.

Momo was the love of his life, the reason why he was able to overcome his past. Momo wasn’t pushy and let him overcome his demons at a slow pace, the battles he fought took years when he was with her, and every step of the way she never faltered in her smiling personality. Momo was an angel in both life and in the afterlife. But you? 

You were everything that Momo wasn’t.

Brash and down to the point. You challenged his every move making him think about the decisions he made, making him own up to the things he’s done, correcting his behavior so that it would take weeks to overcome and not years.

There was no goddamn reason for him to be missing you, not more than Momo.

His eyes focused on the white air expelling from his breath and Shouto finally realized that he was cold. His eyebrows came together as chills sank into his bones. Shouto knew what coldness was, he’s given himself frostbite and hypothermia from his quirk before. He knew the cold like it was a friend, but this was a different cold, a cold that he had forgotten about.

It chilled his skin and made it hard for him to breathe, his body trembled as he could only remember your tear-filled eyes, the defiant yet exhausted tint to them that he would always associate with you. This was the cold he recognized as the bitterness he had been familiar with throughout his childhood. The frost of not having you around him, the stabbing horror of loneliness.

He stood to his feet, his head spinning as he stumbled to the window. The metal steaming against his fingers as he closed the window. His eyes closed as he pressed his forehead against the glass and he trembled.

This wasn’t coldness, no Todoroki Shouto didn’t get cold after all. This was a question of who he missed more: Momo or you?

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“I’m sorry sweetie,” Uraraka mumbled as she gave you a large shirt to wear.

You nodded numbly as you held the soft material to your chest.

You hadn’t been broken up with Shouto for more than twenty-four hours and yet your breakup was being broadcasted through every national TV and tabloid. You really did hate Western influences sometimes, you were a pro hero, not some celebrity who needed her private life exposed.

The air of Uraraka’s apartment was too quiet for your liking, the only noise you could hear was her air diffuser in the other room. Your tongue ran against your chapped lips, your fingers fisting into the shirt as you hated the way she was staring at you.

“If you want to say it, just get it out already,” you snapped as you began stripping out of your wet clothes and into the pajamas she had loaned you. There was no reason to be shy or nervous, this was just another day in the UA locker rooms.

“Say what, y/n?”

“‘I told you so.’” you rushed as you pulled the cotton t-shirt over your head. You frowned as you looked up at your friend, “This relationship with Todoroki… it was a mistake, a dumb idea, and you told me that.”

Uraraka’s eyebrow quirked as a small frown played against her lips, “Was it?”

Heated anger flashed through your body as you glared down at your feet, “Yes, it was.”

“How so?”

Hot and angry tears welled into your eyes as you looked back up at Uraraka who looked curious, her arms now folded as she stared at you. Her brown eyes taunting you almost as if she knew the answer but you were some child who needed to be scolded and to be able to figure out the answer yourself.

“Because I didn’t want to admit that I wasn’t healed from Momo’s death yet, and I still… I wanted Todoroki still, like some fucking dumbass middle schooler,” you hiss out, your hands fisting at your chest. “I fucking slept with him on the first date which wasn’t even supposed to be a date! He was hurting and I was too! I let myself go because I wasn’t fucking thinking like a rational person, but this desperate horny little girl who’s crush finally fucking acknowledged her!”

“Y/n--”

“No--!” your hands slam up with your fingers spread-- “And then because we were caught we-- we decided we had to be in a relationship! Not because Todoroki liked me but because that scandal wouldn’t be as fucking catastrophic! I knew that he never fucking liked me but since he never left I thought maybe he did! Then every goddamn critic started accusing me of killing Momo, like-- as if I would ever do that! Todoroki never publicly addressed it, and he would only comfort me in private! How the fuck is this not an I told you so situation?!”

Uraraka stared at you, her eyes wide, scared almost. Of what she was scared of you had no idea but the pit in your stomach told you that it was you.

“Say it,” you hoarse as you look at her, exhaustion running rampant through your body as tears poured down your face. You had no idea why you were crying, was it for her or for you or for Momo.

“She told you to take care of him, and although it was-- it ended disastrously, that doesn’t mean you didn’t do it,” Uraraka stepped towards you, her hands taking your trembling fist in hers. “She was your best friend, and you had to not only manage her death on your own, but she asked you to take care of Shouto-kun who was as far gone as you were. I mean yeah, I didn’t want you ever going on that date or dating him, but it happened. It wasn’t the healthiest in the beginning, but I thought you t-two were finally healing together…”

Your eyes snapped to Uraraka crying face as she rubbed falling tears from her rosy red cheeks, “If anything, g-get mad at me, I was the one who thought you two were going to be happy together.”

“I can’t do that,” you whisper as you hug your crying friend, “but he’ll be happy one day… I’m replaceable after all.”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Before you could fully realize it, it was nine months after breaking up with Todoroki.

Taking an entire month off of work you had gone to therapy, working with professionals to make sure you had finally gotten onto a healthy path of healing three years after Momo’s death. The mention of her name no longer hurt you, nor did it make your stomach shrivel up at the thought of her. 

Things, while not perfect, were looking up.

Urakaka, Midoriya, and Iida had gone to retrieve your items from Todoroki’s apartment. 

While replaceable, you realized that you couldn’t replace everything you owned. Somethings were too costly, others had too many memories linked with them and so you didn’t want to see them go. 

The rumors of you killing Momo had finally dissolved as Todoroki finally addressed everything and clips of the horrible day had to -- once again -- be reviewed to shut everyone up once and for all. 

So far you had been able to successfully move on from everything except a confrontation with Todoroki. Despite everything you felt too nervous and shameful to see him again, while you didn’t have any regrets about leaving him that night, you felt childish about it. You didn’t seek him out, and you believed he didn’t look for you. As you can imagine any future class event would forever be awkward. 

But time went on even if you didn’t want it to. 

Your sight was blocked as the brown paper bags obstructed your vision. Grocery shopping was one of the most disastrous things in the world, in your honest opinion. 

You grunted as you tried to balance the many bags in your arms, the keys to your apartment stabbing at the air as you tried to find the lock. 

“Y/n?” A voice called for you and you froze, turning around you saw Todoroki standing there. He was dressed in casual clothes his hair pushed back in the way you liked it to be, it seemed that he had the day off too. 

“Um, hi?” Your cheeks twitch into an uncomfortable smile as you turn back to stab at the air, the need to unlock the door much higher than it had been before. 

“Can we… can we talk?” He asked you and you turned your back to him, the key inserted into the lock and you unlocked it and walked in. 

“Depends on what you want to talk about,” you hum as you look at him.

“Us.”

Your throat tightened as if on instinct. Were you healthy enough to have a conversation with him? Your lips twisted as you stared at him. You were healthy, you were renewed and ready to face the last thing on your list.

“Come on in,” you say completely walking into your apartment and Todoroki was hot on your heels. 

The air was intense, goosebumps and chills rampant through your skin as you made Todoroki a cup of tea as you put things away. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Todoroki began and you passed him the steaming cup of green tea. “For that last day especially.”

“It’s okay,” you smile thinly, there was tension in it as you remembered how heartbroken you were that night. “We’re both still alive.”

“Yeah,” he muttered looking down, “I’m just— I’m sorry for how I behaved that night. I was cruel and cold to you and there was no need for that.”

Your teeth bit into your lower lip as you nodded, “Well, we both are very emotional reacting people…”

A huff of amused air escaped his nose as he brought the steaming cup to his lips, “That we are.”

The two of you fell into silence as you watched Todoroki drink his tea, you always thought him being able to drink all his fluids at the perfect temperature at once was such a blessing. 

“I realized that I was using you from the very beginning,” Todoroki gasped as he placed down the mug. Your eyes trained on him as his eyes looked over you, they were so intense, they were the eyes of a man who’s been through so much despite being less than twenty-five. “You weren’t wrong when you said I thought of you as a replacement for Mo— Yaoyorozu, because i’m the beginning you were. I needed a distraction, someone who was like her without being her—“

“So you used me,” you laugh humorlessly, your hands folded in front of you. “I mean, I can’t be mad, because I used you too.”

Todoroki expelled another puff of air as he nodded, “I know… I don’t feel proud at all, but we both suck at coping—“ you smiled in agreement— “But it’s been three years since she passed, it’s been ten months since we broke up and… it fucking sucks. I don’t understand why I still feel the way I do, and I know I shouldn’t because I don’t deserve to feel this way. I should be able to move on but I can’t!”

A chill ran down your spine as you straightened up, “Todoroki—“

“In the beginning I wished that I could bring her back, that there was something I could do to bring her back—“

“Shouto—“

“But I don’t want her back anymore! Every time I wish there was someone by my side I want it to be you, because I’ve realized—”

“Don’t say something you’ll regret,” you heave. Your heart roars in your ears as the two of you stare at each other. The air is electric, your body trembles, and the renewed you comes crashing down. 

The sweet summer air drafts in as you stumble to your feet as Todoroki stares at you. For once his eyes are cleared and the word’s that pass his lips are the truth, his words are a reality you didn’t know how to comprehend. Your head dropped as tears welled in your eyes once more as you sink to your knees sobbing and he’s quick to surround you, his arms immediately wrapping around you.

“I’m in love with you, y/l/n y/n.”

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki angst #bnha writing blog #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha todoroki #bnha imagines #mha #mha x reader #mha imagines #mha todoroki

[broccoliboix5peepeeman]

Could I request a fic where Izuku has gotten a bit chubby and feels self-conscious but Shouto absolutely loves how adorable he looks?

(Of course! I hope I do this request justice! :)

Disclaimer: As it is implied that Izuku has body dysmorphia in this, I want to make it obvious that his experience is not representative of everyone with the condition. Don't come for me please.)

Izuku hated this.

His entire life, hero society had taught him that heroes were meant to have a certain “look”.

Everywhere he went, there were advertisements plastered to billboards, to websites, to commercials.

How to look as alluring as Midnight!

Become as hot as Endeavour using these five easy steps!

Ten reasons why All Might’s physique is the perfect body type!

Female heroes had to be “sexy”. Male heroes had to be “ripped”.

It was bullshit.

Sure, Izuku worked out; he was fit, he could carry over double his own body weight, but he didn't look like a hero should. He was small, bulky and no matter how hard he trained, his thighs still rubbed together when he walked, his cheeks were still chubby and there was still a layer of fat covering his abs.

Izuku rolled over on his bed, hugging his pillow close to his body, hoping the pressure would squish his stomach. He curled in on himself and groaned with frustration.

He wanted to be the new number one hero, so it was important that he was able to look like All Might. After all, Izuku had to be perfect!

Shaking his head, Izuku thought back to a few weeks ago, when he had told All Might about this and asked him how he had maintained his physique whilst in his prime - back before he shifted between forms. He remembered the way his teacher had sighed heavily and slouched in his seat.

‘My boy, did you really think I looked like that my entire hero career?’

When Izuku nodded, confused, All Might reached out two bony hands and placed them on Izuku’s shoulders. ‘It’s impossible to look like this-’ He briefly transformed into his muscular form for a moment, ‘-all the time.'

'But… But you always looked like that in videos and photographs?'

'Editing has been a thing since before quirks came about.' All Might shrugged. 'My only broadcasted fight that was completely unedited was when I fought All for One at Kamino.'

Izuku had stared at him, astounded. He didn’t know what to think. His entire life… How?

His mentor sensed his distress. 'I'd have been constantly performing hero work with a body fat percentage that just wasn't healthy for our line of work.'

'All Might…'

'To save others and gain full control of One for All, you need to get stronger. Listen to me, young Midoriya. I know I encourage you to smile and be the presence that makes others feel at ease, but in terms of your actual body? It doesn't matter what you look like, what matters is whether your body is capable of saving others or not.'

If it didn't matter, then why did All Might consent to having his physique edited in the first place?

Izuku fumbled around to look for his phone, still clutching his pillow. When his hand landed on the device, he brought it to his face - tucking the pillow under his chin to see better - and started searching the hero forums for pictures of All Might.

The longer he looked, the worse he felt, but he couldn’t stop.

Twenty minutes into his scrolling, Izuku just wanted to bury himself under his covers and disappear. He reached down and pinched his stomach fat, his throat closing up as his eyes watered.

Disgusting. Fat. Weak-

'Izuku?' Someone spoke, knocking softly on his door.

Izuku startled and turned towards the sound, breathing heavily.

'Shoto-kun?' He called, silently thanking his voice for not breaking. 'The door's unlocked.'

He turned away, threw his phone across the bed and hid his face in his pillow as his boyfriend quietly opened the door and entered. Izuku heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching, before the weight on the bed suddenly shifted. After that, the movement stopped completely and they remained in silence for several moments.

When curiosity finally outweighed his need to hide, Izuku peeked one eye out from behind his pillow to find Shoto laid on his side, regarding him with concern.

'Do you want to talk about it?' His boyfriend began quietly, eyes so soft that Izuku considered hiding his face again.

'How did you know I was upset?' He asked, voice slightly muffled.

'Secret boyfriend powers.' When Izuku raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, Shoto huffed. 'You were ignoring my messages despite being online.'

'Stalker.' Izuku's lip curled upwards slightly when his partner snorted.

'Don't try to change the subject.'

His smile vanished.

'I'm ugly.' Izuku spoke in a low voice. 'I know All Might told me to focus on my strength and not my looks, but I just feel so disgusting.'

'Why?' Shoto asked after a moment. He always did this when Izuku was feeling down. He never dismissed his negative thoughts. Instead, he listened patiently and asked questions until he understood.

'My body. I need to be tall and muscular, but instead I'm this.' He threw aside the pillow, pulled up his baggy shirt and gestured to his chubby stomach. He then lifted his leg to show Shoto his wide thighs, covered in stretch marks, before flopping back down. 'Heroes aren't supposed to look like this.'

'What are heroes supposed to look like then?' Shoto furrowed his eyebrows.

‘Like All Might!' Izuku felt his eyes water and he gripped the bed covers tightly. ‘Heroes are the kind of people you look at and immediately have faith in. When people look at me though, they don’t see that.'

'There's no "look" that makes someone a good hero.’ Shoto reached out and placed his hand over Izuku's clenched one. ‘I mean, look at Aizawa-Sensei - he doesn’t look like what you’re describing, yet he’s one of the best heroes out there - then look at my old man. He’s tall, muscular and people have faith in him, but that doesn’t mean he’s an example of what makes a great hero.'

Izuku winced.

‘Shoto-kun… I didn’t mean-’

‘I know you didn’t.’ Shoto gave him a small smile as his thumb traced Izuku’s knuckle gently. ‘What I’m just trying to say is that it doesn’t matter what you look like. Midoriya Izuku will always be a hero. You will always be my hero.’

Izuku’s lip wobbled as tears started to run down his face, dampening the covers. Shoto shuffled forwards and reached out a tentative hand. ‘Can I?’

When Izuku nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, he felt his partner’s warm hand land on his stomach. He gasped and quickly looked down to find Shoto caressing him lovingly. Several questions on his lips, he gazed up at him.

Shoto leaned forward so their faces were inches apart and closed his eyes softly. 'I know whatever I say won't change the way you feel about yourself right now, but I need you to know that I think you're perfect. You may think you’re ugly, but I have to disagree. You have the body of a true hero.'

Izuku watched as he opened his eyes again, almost desperate. ‘Please, Izuku. Let me show you.’

Show me? Izuku had no idea what to make of such a vague request. Every time he even thought about his body, he just wanted to cry. What was Shoto going to do? Everything felt so uncertain.

He exhaled shakily and looked into dichromatic eyes, forcing himself to remember. I trust him.

‘O- Okay.’ He whispered, focusing only on the way Shoto’s eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled.

His boyfriend then sat up and gently rolled Izuku over so that he was on his back before moving to straddle him. Izuku’s eyes widened in surprise when Shoto leaned over him and held his face in his hands.

‘Gorgeous.’ His partner whispered, before pressing a kiss to his lips. Izuku gasped, but as soon as it started, Shoto was suddenly moving away from his mouth, brushing the corner of his lips before peppering his cheeks with kisses, not caring about the stained tear tracks.

Izuku reached up to cover Shoto’s hands with his own as his body came to terms with the feeling.

‘Shoto...’

‘I love holding you like this.’ His boyfriend murmured against his freckles, before making his way down his jaw. ‘Your face fits in my hands perfectly.’

Izuku whimpered. So many thoughts were going through his mind, yet with every negative thought, there was Shoto saying something comforting; with every feeling of self-doubt, there was a press of lips against his skin. It was comforting but so overwhelming.

Warm fingers suddenly moved down and lifted up his shirt, exposing his torso and Izuku’s eyes widened.

‘No, don’t.’ He reached down and gripped Shoto’s hand. ‘I know you’re just trying make me feel better but-’

‘Izuku, I’m doing this because I want to. I love you and I want to show you that I love every part of you.’ His boyfriend smiled sadly. ‘If you want to stop because you’re uncomfortable, I will, but if you’re just trying to be considerate then please don’t. Let me hold you.’

Izuku said nothing, but his grip on Shoto’s hand slackened in a silent confirmation and Shoto understood. His partner slowly lowered his head to press several kisses to his stomach. ‘You’re not ugly or disgusting. You're beautiful.'

Shoto shuffled down and tenderly spread Izuku's legs so he could settle between them. He then wrapped his arms around his waist and snuggled into his stomach.

'I love your body so much. So soft and comforting. You make me feel safe, Izu.'

Tears streamed down Izuku's face as he moved to cradle Shoto's head, gently massaging his scalp.

'I do?' He whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

'I promise. I could spend forever like this.’

Izuku let out a sob as Shoto nuzzled his cheek against his abdomen.

Self-love isn't instantaneous, Izuku knew that. It’s a journey, but he didn't mind venturing down it if it meant he could understand the love Shoto felt for him.

#this took way longer than expected whoops #tododeku #todoroki shoto #midoriya izuku #hurt/comfort #hero society is as toxic as hollywood #body dysmorphia #self-esteem issues #unrealistic body expectations #AgarJelly writes #thank you for the prompt! :D #toshinori yagi

[class1akids]

It’s Pro-Hero Arc day...

and here is a post that nobody asked for, telling you, why it’s one of my all time favorites. 

1. Endeavor

This is one of the best fights in the manga. Full stop. I went into this arc not liking Endeavor whatsoever (I still don’t like him) and yet his fight with the Nomu pulled me in. I started to see things I liked about him, like his dry sense of humor, or his inability to give up. From the awkward moments of Endeavor standing uncomfortably in the spotlight he so craved all his life and now full of insecurities if he’s up to the job, to the self-assured way he thinks this is his moment to shine, to him falling, and getting up and fighting to the background noise of the naysayers who only care about winners, as his family, the ones he hurt so bad are the only ones that truly care about him despite themselves. And all the way to the end, when he realizes that the strength-crazed monster his fighting is himself.

 I love that in order to win he has to take the fall, not knowing if there’d be anyone to catch him. 

2. Hawks

I love Hawks. He’s cheeky, he’s cool, we have no idea what game he’s playing, he runs circles around a totally befuddled Endeavor. He’s stirring up trouble, but he also sticks around to see it through. He’s really a No. 2. like Endeavor totally doesn’t deserve, like the one he never was to All Might. The one who’ll push the No. 1. forward.  Like look at this image! he’s literally giving Endeavor wings.

I love how from the initial unease, Endeavor comes to genuinely care about Hawks by the end of their fight and the guy who was always about himself becomes a true believer of team-ups.  Also look at this fucking foreshadowing here.

3. The Todoroki-family

The true stars of this arc! I mean it. It’s their reactions that makes me emotionally invested in the fight.

We get to see Natsuo! He’s such a great character - he feels so real, being torn between his resentment and trying to be a decent person to the rest of his family.  And more Fuyumi!!! She has such a good heart and a deep understanding of Endeavor’s character.

And we see Rei smile because Shouto writes her letters and it’s like the best little detail ever. 

4. Shouto

Gosh, he’s breakdown in the common room is so heartbreaking. After everything Endeavor put him through, he still cares about him - it just bursts out of him. 

And I love that his friends are there for him, showing that whatever he’s going through, he has so much support compared to the lonely, cold boy who joined the class all those months ago. 

5. The media circus and Can’t-ya-see-kun

The reporting throughout and after the fight gives such a taste of the role of the media in lifting up and pushing down heroes. The media that wants easy wins and flashy smiles and doesn’t care about the heroes that struggle. 

And ironically, for Endeavor who never appreciated his fans, it’s one of his true fans who turns the public opinion and becomes an in-universe meme. 

6. The first iconic Todoroki-family dinner

I was worried that now that Endeavor won, suddenly all is forgiven. But Hori said “SLUUUUURP!” and as Endeavor’s family were the ones truly rooting for the man even when the fight didn’t look good, they are the ones that continue to hold him responsible. 

And their different reactions, from Fuyumi’s eagerness to forgive, to Shouto’s measured response, to Natsuo’s outburst - they are the best part of this redemption arc.

7. Dabi showing up for a chilling moment 

I can’t believe we are still blue-balled on this reveal. 

8. The first taste of Queen Mirko

And how cool that just as we get this in the anime, Hori is doing the reverse in the manga, Endeavor dropping in to save Mirko

9. First glimpses into Hawks backstory, and the spy drama that is playing out

Like, I always had a bad feeling about hero society, but it’s through Hawks’ backstory that we slowly get the reveal of the Hero Commission as the rotten heart of it all. 

10. Aizawa and Shouto 

The little details of how Aizawa wears mismatched slippers in his hurry to get to Shouto or how he personally drives him home for the family meal (and is playing with a cat outside)! I love Dadzawa this arc.

#bnha #bnha meta #pro-hero arc #endeavor #Hawks #keeping up with the todorokis #todoroki shouto #todoroki natsuo #todoroki fuyumi #todoroki rei #mirko #dabi/touya #dabi #aizawa shouta

[cafeinthemoon]

Purple Dragon – Chapter 3

Title: Purple Dragon

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Bakugou x Ryu Murasaki (oc)

Rating: teen and up

Word count: 4024

Chapter: 3/?

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛 | ▶️ | ▶️

Read the previous chapters here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Warnings: canon divergence, multiple POVs

Chapter 3 - At the Dormitory

That they had a specific time to go their rooms at the U.A.’s dormitory, everyone in Class 1A knew. But this didn’t stop most of them them from disobeying this rule at least that night to meet at the common room and talk about the new student and all the things they want to ask her: how was life in the USA? Did she liked living there? How did she react when she heard she was going to move to Japan? Was it too hard?

Not that Shouto Todoroki didn’t want to know more about his new classmate. Perhaps he was as curious as everyone else, and the girl’s quirk was a good one, perfect for a hero; he just wasn’t so loud about his curiosity as the others.

Ryu Murasaki, with her wavy, purple hair covering her shoulders, her round lilac eyes going all over the class as if searching for a comforting spot to look at while searching for the proper manner to present herself and with her fists clenching on the sides of her body, trying to hide the garish nail polish that fought against the delicacy of her hands, seemed to feel everything dressed in the U.A.’s uniform – except at ease. It could be just shyness, yes, but somehow it wasn’t enough to explain what was seen during her presentation: from the beginning to the end of the classes, she sent the impression that she was performing a role that wasn’t designed for her. Something in her kept her separated from her the others, as someone of another kind, forged with different tools. Being there in a college uniform, showing herself to people in a traditional institution, just wasn’t for her. If only there was away know if anyone else sensed the same...

And not only this, but there was something in the way she spoke about her quirk that remained unnoticed even by Midoriya with his neat notes and observations: it seemed to be the last thing she wanted to do. Didn’t she appreciate her own power? Well, there was nothing embarrassing about making things float; or didn’t she know how to properly control it? Maybe, but at that age? Or perhaps she was only capable of controlling small objects such as a notebook. Everything was possible. Some quirks were harder to master than others; Todoroki, who still had some trouble with his fire side, knew it well.

However, he didn’t like the idea of making precipitated conclusions. Opinions and impressions were not a fair standard, neither they were reliable; it was better to wait and see the events taking place before speaking about what he didn’t knew.

And that was what he was doing now, sitting in a corner of that room where most of the students were reunited. Mina, Momo, Tsuyu and Jiro were occupying one of the sofas: the pink-skinned girl sitting on its back while the other three were on the regular seats. On the other sofa, there were Bakugou, Kirishima and Kaminari on the seats, with Mineta on the sofa’s arm, but no conversation took place between them. A bit distant from this main group, Tokoyami and Shoji were engaged in a calm conversation while looking at the window.

The girls were turned to Jiro, commenting about the fact that the new student would have the room next to hers. Some of the changes were still implemented, that was true, and she was still moving her stuff to the room, all of them imagining how things were going to be with the work finished and Ryu Murasaki finally established as one of them.

- I wonder what type of music she likes – Jiro was speaking more to herself than to the others.

- I’m not an expert in music, but she has all the manners of someone who listens to underground, sophisticated stuff – Momo replied.

Aoyama, who just entered the room and heard the girl’s words, approached the group, agreeing without second thoughts.

- Imagine if she could share her fine taste with us! – in his eyes appeared a shine that resembled the bright beam he sent out from his belly – Momo would bring us the best of her tea collection, our new friend would bless us with her music knowledge and I would illuminate the path for all of you!

Jiro rolled her eyes and refused to give him a verbal response. Tsuyu pointed, cautious:

- I’d rather ask her about her tastes. Appearances are usually deceiving.

Mina united her palms in her cheerful manners.

- In this case, I hope she likes dancing music!

Todoroki listened to this whole conversation with polite attention, but no disposition to add his own thoughts to it. He mentally agreed with Tsuyu, but expecting that the others would do the same was too much. He was not so close to the boys at the window to hear their conversation, and neither he was willing to join them; the same could be said about the boys on the sofa: while Kirishima would not hide his interest in the chat between Aoyama and the girls, Kaminari and Mineta were lost in their own fantasies, certainly planning to ask the girl if she was single. Surrounded by them and not satisfied with it, Bakugou had his head laid down on the sofa’s back and his eyes closed, not interested in any of that but still present, despite knowing his classmates would not stop the talking so soon.

Or so Todoroki thought.

He followed when the room fell silent and everyone’s heads turned to the dormitory’s entry to see Ryu Murasaki coming in, along with Midoriya, Iida and Uraraka.

***

The slight apprehension she felt while approaching the dormitory’s room accompanied by new friends made Ryu tight his hands around the book she borrowed from the green-haired boy, but it was nothing compared to what she experienced that morning during her introduction. By that time she knew no one and barely had the time to learn the teacher’s name; now, some familiarity was being built between her and those three, Midoriya, Iida and Uraraka.

Iida, as the class’ representative, offered himself to show her the school’s most important departments, and they were followed by the other students who also had useful – and cheerful – observations that enriched Ryu’s experience as a new member of the heroes course and soothed Iida’s over attachment to the rules and norms.

When they passed by the Library, she spoke about a book she started to read weeks before leaving the United States and never got the chance to finish. It turned out that Midoriya had the same book with him and offered to go to his room and grab it for her. The four went to his room together, with Iida hurrying the group for it was by the hour when they were supposed to go to sleep.

When they opened the dormitory’s room and met almost the whole class there, awake and engaged in multiple excited conversations, Iida almost fainted, being held by Midoriya and Uraraka. But his recovery was instantaneous, and just like the others he noticed when their classmates’ eyes turned to the girl with purple hair.

Ryu swallowed, but was glad that she was not entering there all alone and that it wasn’t a classroom. Without the pressure of the earlier formalities, she could observe the place and the people in it with more attention.

The room seemed larger than that one where she had that first conversation with Aizawa, but its decoration followed the same simplicity and tidiness of it. The windows, as large as all the ones she saw in other departments of the U.A., would left anyone close to them exposed to observers outside, but no one seemed uncomfortable in the room whether by them or anything else.

In their own way, the students inside the room were as interesting as Midoriya, Uraraka and Iida.

On one side, at a slight distance from the others, a boy with his hair parted in two contrasting shades – pure white and dark red – was leaning on a wall with his arms crossed; when he turned to the newcomers, Ryu noticed his eyes were of different colors too: one was brown, as the other was of a vibrant blue, this one surrounded by a reddish mark that resembled the darker tone of his hair.

Not so far from his spot, there was a yellow sofa from where four girls were looking at them. The first one, with black eyes and both her hair and skin pink, smiled and waved to welcome the four; Ryu saw a pair of yellow horns growing our of her shaggy curls. A blonde boy with bright eyes and fancy manners was just beside her, competing for the newcomers’ attention. Right behind them, a girl with a long a ponytail greeted them with a discreet smile; the girl beside her, with her short hair in a darker tone of Ryu’s, imitated her gesture. The last person on the sofa was a girl with big eyes and a large mouth; instead of speaking, she made a noise that could have escaped from a frog’s throat.

Having all those eyes on her would have made Ryu turn her back and walk away if she hadn’t the three students by her side. Iida was preparing himself to make formal introductions between her and the group, but his measure ended up being unnecessary when most of them came to greet the new girl with gentle smiles and words.

The pink girl was the first to speak.

- Ryu-san! I’m Mina Ashido!

The blonde boy close to her was the second; his name was Aoyama Yuga. The others approached while Ryu and the three came inside the room and Uraraka closed the door behind them.

There were too many names for Ryu to remember, but things became easier once each student revealed their quirks: Mina explained that she was able to expel an acid fluid; Aoyama said he could emit a laser ray through his belly button; the girl with the ponytail, Momo Yaoyorozu, who Iida explained to be the vice representative of the class, used the lipids of her body to create anything she imagined; the girl who was sitting beside her introduced herself as Jiro, and when she approached, Ryu saw she had earphone jacks coming from her earlobes, indicating a quirk connected to the sound; the girl with frog characteristics said her name was Tsuyu Asui, but preferred to be called Tsuyu; her abilities were in fact the ones of an amphibian.

In a moment, Ryu was surrounded by Aoyama and the girls, who had countless questions about her and the United States.

- So you just came from the United States? That’s incredible!

- Did your parents use to speak in Japanese with you at home? That’s how you became bilingual, right?

- We could make a study group and you could help us with the English lessons! What do you think?

Other questions came after these, and Ryu did her best to answer them. How was life in the united States? Reasonable. She had the places she liked to go, the food she liked to eat and a couple of friends. Was she enjoying being in Japan? It was strange, but not bad. She had lived out of it for many years, so it was like being there for the first time. Everything was so colorful and had some sort of order that she couldn’t find in the United States. Oh, and they had the Number One Super Hero, All Might! That was great!

Midoriya’s cheeks turned red the moment he heard that.

- If I knew you liked All Might, Ryu-san, I’d tell this before: now he’s one of our teachers!

Ryu’s eyes widened a bit.

- Really? You guys are really lucky!

More questions came, and what was expected to be an interrogatory ended up being a joyful meeting. The difference between the environments of the classroom and that place was tangible. A group of young people reunited at night with no responsibilities until the next day would not behave differently; Ryu allowed herself to enjoy the light atmosphere created by them...

Until a harsh voice rose up above the others, that silenced themselves in response.

- Won’t you stop the blabbering? I bet even the new girl can’t take it anymore.

The group moved out of the way, creating a gap in the circle they formed around Ryu. When she looked through it, the sight of a second sofa in front of the one where the girls were appeared and she recognized the owner of the voice: that blonde boy who scolded Midoriya in the classroom for taking notes about her quirk. His head was leaning on the sofa’s back, but soon he straightened up and looked at the group, directly at Ryu. For the first time, she noticed he had red eyes.

At his left, a boy with red hair and sharp teeth told him to calm down.

- You don’t need to be so hard on them, Bakugou – he spoke in a conciliating tone – This is the first time we have a classmate from another country. That’s exciting, if I’m being honest.

The boy turned to Ryu and gave her a wide smile.

- Oh, Ryu-san! I’m Kirishima, by the way!

Ryu was about to reply when the annoyed boy, who he called Bakugou, interrupted:

- If she was born in this country, she’s not a foreigner, you know?

- Yes, but…

The other groaned and Kirishima gave up on the argument.

Ryu sensed her throat tightening. Yes, it was getting late and they all had time to go to their rooms instead of being loud and chatting, but how was it a reason for him to speak like that with his classmates, she couldn’t understand. Why did everything seem to irritate this guy? Why didn’t he just leave then? Besides, why did he insist on talking about her as if she wasn’t there?

Midoriya, who was quiet during all this discussion, swallowed in the same nervous manner as he did in the classroom. That was his usual response to the other boy’s exasperation, then. Ryu looked at the others and sensed a growing tension from some and an hilarious reaction from others, as if they’ve witnessed scenes like that countless times before.

And that pissed her off.

- Hey.

Her voice came out before she could think of something to say. Only when everyone turned to her she understood what she did. But now it was too late to not go ahead.

- Hey. The howling one.

Bakugou looked at the girl as if he was seeing her in the room for the first time. He came forward on his seat, his elbows leaning on his thighs.

- You’re talking to me? – he asked, knowing the answer was yes.

A knot was formed in her stomach, but she had to stand her ground.

- Is anyone else making as much noise as you? – she raised an eyebrow – Of course I’m talking to you.

- And? – it was the only response to come out from his mouth.

Her fingers clenched around the book, sweat wetting its cover; she would apologize to Midoriya when this was over. Sensing the boy’s nervousness beside her encouraged her next words.

- What’s the matter with you? – she started, making a gesture with the book that indicated the door behind her – If our conversation annoys you so much, you can just leave. We’re not forcing you to stay.

Kirishima held his breath, half smiling half serious; the look he gave her said she had no idea of what she just woke up. Midoriya took a step back, probably thinking the same. He let a gasp escape when Bakugou stood up from the sofa, coming at Ryu’s direction.

- So you just came here and think you can kick me out, uh? – he showed his teeth in an unsettling imitation of a smile – What if I show you how things really work here, new girl?

Ryu didn’t move in her spot. That boy, his harsh tone and manners, could be possessive of his territory and not accept the slightest threat against it and be successful in maintaining his dominance, but it wasn’t like she never met people like him before. Kids like that one were present in all the classes she was part of, having their behavior encouraged by the misleading judgment of the teachers who couldn’t tell the difference between boldness and true courage and the shyness of the other children, and she would have been just another victim of them if it wasn’t for the quirk she manifested at five.

That time, with that Bakugou boy, things weren’t different.

Ryu saw when he raised his right hand and waited to see what was coming from it: what type of quirk was his? Something loud and violent, if it fitted him as a person. And she wasn’t wrong: the beginning of small explosions was now visible on his palm, and everything indicated that their size would increase. A quirk associated with fire – Ryu has seen this before. They were effective by their dizzying effect, so that the opponent’s wisest decision was to defend themselves first and think of a counteraction later.

Bakugou was now a few steps from Ryu.

- Try to kick me out if can, new girl – he barked – I’m doing half of the work coming to you!

Midoriya raised his hands, trying to contain his classmate’s mood. By the way he spoke to him, they must have known each other for a long time.

- K-Kacchan…!

The pair of red eyes turned to the apprehensive boy at the same time, and he swallowed.

- Stay out of it, Deku!

The explosions on Bakugou’s hand were reunited in just one, bigger and louder, directed at Midoriya. It was going to cause a disaster in the room… but Ryu was faster.

She threw the book between the two students, and the object, surrounded by purple streams of energy, grew into something rounded, of a metallic, silver tone that reflected the lights of the contained explosion on its polished surface. Midoriya, who had his arms covering his face, took a second to understand that the strike didn’t hit him; he moved his arms away and straightened up to find a shield hiding his classmate from his sight.

He recognized the purple streams.

- Ryu-san…

Something in his tone made Ryu realize what she just did. She glanced at Midoriya and couldn’t tell if he was impressed with what he saw or worried about his book being turned into a fireproof shield. It was always like that: she would never noticed how far she came until something or someone around her wake her senses; that was the issue of having an instinctive quirk.

Soon, her fingers manipulated the energy around the shield and it disappeared. In its place, the book reappeared on her hand. Her hair, that floated at the sudden and intense use of her quirk, fell down to their previous place around her shoulders.

She saw Bakugou’s eyes staring at hers when the shield was gone; it was like he knew exactly where they would be even before the barrier could be undone. In them, Ryu expected to see the same things she has found in the eyes of many bullies and mean individuals she met in her school years and in the streets after seeing her quirk in action. But more was shown there.

It wasn’t just the raw irritation from before: some sort of mute surprise was blended with it, resulting in groans that replaced any word that could have came out with the unexpected counteraction for a quirk that never failed him before. Ryu knew the signs: Bakugou was impressed, but that didn’t mean he liked what he saw.

She turned your attention to the book. There was a small scratch on the cover.

- I’m sorry for this – she apologized to Midoriya, still speechless – I ended up not explaining this in class, but I can also change the configuration of any object. Most of the times I can return them to their previous state with no problems, but some times things like this happens – she pointed at the scratch – I’m really sorry.

The boy had his eyes as big as two moon, staring at his new classmate. Ryu was waiting for him to say if there was a problem with the scratch or not, but none of them had time to say a word.

- Oi – Bakugou interrupted the talking – Don’t you dare ignore me like that, witch.

Ryu raised her eyes to him, not believing in the nickname he just found for her.

- This isn’t over…

A new sequence of explosions grew in his palm and Ryu started to think of a new form of defend herself… but the expected attack never came. The explosions disappeared from his hand at the same time that the purple energy she started to create vanished from hers.

A new and tired voice was heard in the room.

- What are you doing out of your rooms so late?

Everyone turned to the room’s door, that has been open to show a tired man in black pajamas. However, the redness in his eyes were more an indication that his quirk was in use than from sleep.

- Aizawa-sensei! – the whole class gasped.

Iida was about to apologize in the name of the entire class, but Aizawa didn’t give him the chance: one look from him and everyone passed the door, running towards their rooms right after.

Besides Ryu, the last ones were Midoriya, Bakugou and that boy with two shades in his hair. He remained in silence during all the altercation, and now showed no hurry to leave the room. He passed all the three students and left without a look at them or the teacher. Bakugou followed him with his hand on his pockets, still groaning; neither he had a look or a word to Aizawa.

Midoriya went to the door and tried to say something to make amends for him and for Ryu, or so it seemed to be when he glanced at her while talking to the teacher, but Aizawa just told him to go to his room.

When Ryu passed by him, the lights of the room were turned out and he closed the door at her back. The corridor was already empty, except for Midoriya’s silhouette walking away at its end. She lingered there, waiting for what Aizawa had to say.

- I wonder why you didn’t tell me that your quirk were developed to this point, Ryu-san – he commented, still with his hand on the door handle – I’d rather believe that it’s because you didn’t trust us enough for that. You just arrived here, after all.

Ryu tried to justify herself.

- Aizawa-sensei, I…

When his eyes turned to her, she didn’t find the expected impatience, so that her nervousness was soothed. She sighed.

- I wasn’t expecting to show my quirk under such circumstances. It was an accident.

Aizawa nodded.

- I know. No one would like to show themselves to their new classmates through an accident.

- No.

His next words sent a shiver on her spine.

- However, this is not the first accident in which you get involved, if I’m correct.

Ryu tried to move her feet, but they wouldn’t obey her. The teacher didn’t change his manners, though.

- Don’t worry. I won’t force you to speak about it if you are not prepared for it, but let me tell you something: letting the shame stop you from seek for help won’t help you at all. I’m not sure of what’s holding you back, but long as you let it happen, more accidents will come.

He passed by the girl, going back to his own room.

- Go back to your room, now, Ryu-san. Tomorrow will be a busy day for all of us.

#bnha fanfiction #mha original character #boku no hero academia fanfic #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #uraraka ochako #iida tenya #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou x oc

[dadzawa-adopt-dabi]

Secret baby ch9

When Dabi checks out of the hospital a couple days later Nurse Joy is waiting for him as he signs out.

“Thank you for all you've done for me. I wish there was something I could do for you.” He says as he gives her a tight goodbye hug. Kiyoko caught between them in her dad’s arms. He wants to hug Joy forever, but there is a cab waiting for him already.

“You're going to be a great parent, Dabi, I know it.” Joy lets him go, Dabi leaves the hospital with his baby girl and the confidence that he can do this. Not even false confidence this time but actual real belief that he can be a good father to his daughter even if he’s by himself.

The first thing Dabi does after the short taxi ride home, he struggled the whole time not to growl too harshly at the driver and repeatedly scented Kiyoko on the top of her head, is make a nest to put Kiyoko in while he scents and cleans his apartment.

He could make baby nests, he made them for Natsou and for Shouto before, his mother unable or unwilling to. He remembers getting the urge to tuck a small crying Natsou into a pile of blankets and rearranging them again and again and again until Natsou wouldn't fall out and he curled up and slept in the corner.

By the time Shouto came along he had taught Fuyumi how to build tiny infant nests too. A habit most alpha’s only learned when they had kids of their own, if they ever learned at all. Dabi takes a second to wonder if Hawks knew how to do these things, if he grew up changing diapers and mixing formula and perfecting the firm edge of a baby nest with a blanket then still curled back to cover a baby. If Hawks wanted to be a father, if he wanted Dabi. 

Kiyoko breaks his line of thought while he smears his hand covered in scent oil from his neck glands all over the couch with a small cry and watering eyes. Dabi checks the time and cusses softly, she’s probably hungry already. He wipes his hand off on her blankets so they smell like him ,as she cries for food, and shoves some formula into a bottle and into the microwave before coming back to his baby girl. Dabi quickly untucks her from the scoop of the nest and holds her against his swollen pecs, trying to get her to latch on. He knows that it won’t satisfy her but it might keep her quiet and happy until the formula is done. She suckles for a few moments before releaseing him and continuing her soft crying when milk doesn't come out fast enough.

“I know, baby girl. I'm just buying us time for the formula to heat.” Dabi shifts her and lightly bounces her as he walks around, waiting for the timer on the microwave to beep.

Kiyoko shoves her nose into his neck and continues her soft crying, her lungs aren't able to truly make a racket yet but she does her best with what she’s got. Her tiny face scrunched up and sniffling in between her wails. When the timer goes off Dabi checks the temperature first making sure he didn’t screw up and get it too hot. It's warm but not hot so he juggles her around carefully until he can feed her again and places the rubber nipple into her mouth. Kiyoko spits it out twice before she realizes that there’s milk and twitches her arms as she greedily sucks. 

“Yeah, princess knows what's up, huh? You’re accepting that faster than I thought you would.” He holds the bottle steady and sways with her in his arms. All his other worries fade into the background as she blinks her gold eyes up at him. Back muscles twitching and moving her tiny wings happily in tiny motions that tickle along his hand. He has to hold her with one hand flat in between her wings to avoid crushing them to her tiny back. Everything about her is so tiny and perfect and as she finishes her bottle Dabi wonders how in the seven layers of hell something so tiny and perfect came from him. He’s going to do everything in his power to raise her right and make sure nothing happens to her. He tucks her back into her baby nest in the corner of the couch and curls up next to her as they settle down for a nap.

When he wakes up it’s for a diaper change. Nurse Joy had given him a refresher but he had done it for all his siblings but his twin before. Placing her washable cloth changing pad on the floor, and switching her dirty one out for a fresh one before wiping her down quickly and rewrapping her in the clean diaper. The whole process takes him maybe 5 minutes, muscle memory being put to use and the only time Kiyoko cries is when he lifts her up to put the fresh diaper under her, the position uncomfortable for her downy wings.

“There we go, Kiyoko, your daddy knows how to do that much at least. He changed your uncles’ diapers when they were babies because grandma was sick and couldn’t,” he talks to her as much as he’s just talking to himself. It’s a good thing to talk to her, he knows. So she can hear and imitate him, learning to speak eventually.

His first month with Kiyoko settles them into a routine quickly. The numbers in his savings 'account’, an empty coffee can filled with all his savings, is quickly emptying, the medical bills had taken up more than he had planned for. The time he stayed there because he had to have a c-section only raising the bill higher. He knows he’s going to have to find a job and a babysitter soon, he’s going to have to face more Karens as he searches for a job that will take him with no background and a flexible schedule to continue caring for his child. But he wants to enjoy what time he has with his daughter while he can.

He fills out applications and waits to send them off, he can’t stand the thought of parting with Kiyoko. Who knows what will happen to her, if Enji will find him once he sends the applications out, he has to use his legal name on all of them. What if Hawks comes and finds his daughter and takes her away? Stealing Kiyoko and not allowing Dabi to see her again? Using the fact that Dabi can’t legally fight him for custody unless he wants to bring attention to himself and Kiyoko. He doesn't stand a great chance of winning a custody battle, sketchy apartment and jobless. His young age wouldn’t help his case either. Despite caring and practically raising his younger siblings himself when he was even younger.

Kiyoko cries at him, bringing him out of his distress and back to the present. He can worry about it later. Maybe take some jobs around the apartment, start a cleaning service. Just something that gets them through the month. Something he can do that won’t leave either of them vulnerable. 

“You distracting daddy? It is not your job to cheer me up when you smell that I'm distressed, Kiyoko. Your job is to sit there and be cute, okay?” Dabi holds her close to his chest and purrs, a happy sound most omega’s make often and he had only attempted a few times in his life. It was deep and stuttered a lot but Kiyoko waved her arms and flapped her wings in happiness back.

“Hey now, since when have you been able to flap those that much? You're growing too fast, baby girl!”  He fake grouches at her and the scent of happy omega and child fills his apartment. No way is he leaving her behind and increasing the chance of her being taken away from him. He’ll figure this out. He’s only been home with her for two months. He tells himself repeatedly, he can rest a little more. Maybe a month more.

He can cook and clean, the perfect house omega Enji had tried to turn him into once Enji realized that his incompatible quirk would never allow him to become a hero. A perfect ‘bride’ with status. Well even if he hated the reasons, he could put what he learned to use and get himself and his daughter through this.

Kiyoko hits him with her arm and flaps her wings, demanding that Dabi play with her. He gets them both comfortable on the couch, himself laying down and her on his stomach, then lifts her up and close to his chest then away again. It's almost like weight lifting for him and it’s fun for Kiyoko with the bonus benefit of strengthening her wings as she flaps them in happiness trying to play along.

The next month Dabi only has enough money for rent and a few groceries, Kiyoko’s formula will last the month, but he knows it's time to get started knocking on doors, trying to see if anyone needs a housekeeper. 

@ruelukas22

#secretbabyfic #dabihawks #Dabi #dabi is touya #keigo takami #thedarkonewrites #didimissanytags?

[petri808]

Full story.  Bakudeku AU w/smut.  11k words.  Happy Birthday Bakugou!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23630008

Bakugou Katsuki is a playboy rockstar with a bad attitude.  He’s got everything, top hits, fans, and any girl or guy he wants... Or does he.  At an industry party he meets the one person who sends him on a new path that ultimately saves his career and truly makes him shine.  

“Ha!”  Katsuki Bakugou kicks back in his chair as he slaps the report and tosses it onto his managers desk.  “Number one yet again on the charts!  Damn I’m fucking awesome!”  And it was true, the seasoned singer known to the world as Shockwave was still going strong 4 years after starting off in this industry.  

“Yes, yes,” the man picks up the paper and files it away.  “That’s the fifth single release in a row to debut at number one on the Billboard as well as Spotify.”  Shouto Todoroki was Katsuki’s manager and he had to admit, he never expected his client to rise this quickly.  While he’s only been doing this job officially for the last seven years, he’d grown up in the industry and had seen enough to know what works and what doesn’t.    

The singers blended style of Pop with Alternative and Rock grabbed audiences’ attentions, not to mention his performances were full of energy, and his personality was vivacious to say it nicely.  But off stage, the man was a handful.  Having a feeling about how Katsuki would behave, Shouto’s boss stuck him with blonde hot head as soon as the man signed, because he knew that his cool, level-headed, no nonsense manner would be able to handle it.  Things worked out for the most part.  Their PR department handled most of the headaches dealing with the man’s antics caught on social media.  But as they say, good or bad, news sells, and so far, the singer was able to weather most of the crazy scandals that had arisen.  Fan’s ate up all the juicy gossip and Katsuki fed them on the daily.

Arguments in clubs were a common occurrence with the singer, with the occasional fight turning into an actual brawl.  Most of those ended quickly with bouncers, used to Katsuki’s notoriety breaking things up and sending the combatants packing.  His love life and lifestyle were another gasoline on the social media flames.  With Katsuki, the term playboy was too classy for him and this pansexual had a love ‘em and leave ‘em, one-night stand attitude that never seemed to curtail the amount of partners willing to go to bed with him.  As far as Shouto knew, no one had ever turned the singer down.  

Shouto sits forward in his chair and lets his arms rest along the desk.  “Next on the agenda.  The album release part where your latest video will also be unveiled is next week.  I assume you’ll have a date?”

“Tch, course I will,” the blonde grows smug as if the question was unnecessary, “and whoever he or she is I’ll make sure is dressed to impress.”

“I’d expect no less,” is all the manager responds with.  “The limo will pick you up at 6pm on the dot, so be ready.”  

The night of the party started off without a hitch with many industry insiders in attendance.  Shockwaves music blared, expensive drinks flowed, and delicious amuse bouche were served by the wait staff.  Guests were happy and satiated, mingling with friends and acquaintances as one might see at any high-end party.  The schedule was a lax one and mostly just an occasion to gather and enjoy.  So, after his latest music video was played and his newest album unveiled, they popped champagned to celebrate and party the rest of the night away.  

Things were running so smoothly, that by 9pm Shouto felt relaxed enough to let the bodyguards keep an eye on Katsuki, while he could mingle with the guests unimpeded.  You could never tell just how Katsuki would behave, so he savored the moments of peace.  The singer had been too preoccupied with the red headed twin’s he’d brought as guests, one on each arm to fuss and that worked for him.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky tonight and there’ll be nothing more than pictures of a party to hit the news tomorrow,” PR lead for Shockwave, Momo Yaoyorozu notes to her co-worker as they grab refills at the bar.

“I never hold my breath,” Shouto responds.  “But if that’s the case, I’ll be supremely happy.”

“Me too,” she chuckles, “it means less headaches for me.  Right now, the article going into tomorrow’s UA Metro entertainment section is about album sales starting this weekend.”

“Thanks,” he pats the woman on the shoulder, “you guys always do an amazing job.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles back before walking away.  

While the singer drank and danced the night away, Shouto takes a seat on one of the couches with his own guest who’d been waiting patiently for him.  Not that his guest was left alone, the man also knew many others in this field to stay occupied.  But now he got to enjoy the party instead only focusing on managing it. Chances were high that within another couple of hours, Katsuki would take off to bed the twins or some other willing partner and he would be free to wrap up this event.

And he was right on the money.  Four years of managing the man’s career, and he was pretty accurate on when his client would fold.  It was just under midnight, when a very drunk Katsuki unceremoniously drops onto the couch and shoves himself between the manager and his guest,  But Shouto looks around and notices something was missing.  He clears his throat, already annoyed by the type of intrusion as well as the growing discomfort of his guest.  “Bakugou, where are your guests?”

Don’t know, don’t care,” he slurs while focusing in on his managers guest.  “Who’s yer friend Todo?”  Truth was, the twins were trying to get him to leave with them, when he’d noticed the cute green-haired man next to his manager and sauntered over.

Shouto rolls his eyes at the nickname.  His guest’s eyes were wide and slightly panicked with the popstar practically hanging over him, so he pulls Katsuki away to give his guest some space.  “This is my friend Izuku Midoriya.  Izuku, this is my client Katsuki Bakugou.”        

Despite his discomfort, the green haired, freckle faced man smiles sweetly, doing his best to be nice since this was his friend’s client.  “H-Hi, it’s nice to meet you Mr. Bakugou.  I think your music is great.”

“What the fuck man, don’t call me mister and make me sound old!  But yeah, of course you like my music,” Katsuki grins, “everybody loves my damn music.”  He moves back closer to Izuku, trailing his hand against the man’s arm before Shouto can stop him.  “Bet you think I’m sexy too.”

Izuku blushes in embarrassment but shrinks away from the man’s touch.  The singer was being way too brazen and upfront for the shy man.  “Eh, heh, yeah, you are very nice to look at.”

Shouto once again pulls his client away, “please don’t make my guest uncomfortable Katsuki, clearly he’s not interested.”

But the singer furiously rips his arm away from his manager, “I ain’t doin’ that!  Izu here loves me, don’t ya mouse?” He wraps an arm around the man and pulls him flush against his body.  “Nobody can resist this package.”

His body goes stiff at the tight hold Katsuki has of him.  “Um… actually I do…” Izuku blurts out with a tremor to his tone.  “You’re a little intimidating to me,” he whispers.  It wasn’t that he didn’t think Katsuki was the most handsome guy he’s ever laid eyes on, but the man’s personality was just too rough.  They were completely opposite in that way from what he knew through Shouto and what he’s seen in the news.  Plus, Katsuki was his friend’s client and he wouldn’t want to cause any potential problems if a relationship were to go south.

“Tch.”  Undeterred, Katsuki grips the man’s chin hard and tips it up, letting his lips hover over Izuku’s.  “Do I really now?  But I bet I could make those fears melt away in my bed.”  Then slightly brushing his lips against the man’s, “the things I would do to this sweet ass of yours would have you begging for more.”

Izuku gulps hard.  A small part of him was turned on by Katsuki’s charms, but the bigger portion was screaming to run.  “I-I’m not gonna sleep with you after a first meeting,” he whines, “I’m not that kind of guy.”

“What the fuck!”  Katsuki snaps and shoves Izuku away so hard he almost slips off the couch.  “You dare to reject me?!  ME?!!  Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position right now!”  His blood was boiling and whatever high he’d had from the alcohol was burning off rapidly from the surge in adrenaline.

Shouto grabs Katsuki by both arms as his guest pushes himself further away on the couch.  Izuku wraps his arms around himself in shock from the outburst, this singer really was a brute!  He’s seen it on social media but to be the subject of the man’s wrath was a totally different feeling.  

The problems was, while taller than him, Katsuki outweighed Shouto, and he struggled to keep the man from lunging at Izuku.  But hearing the sudden commotion, other guests and Katsuki’s bodyguards rush over, grabbing the singer, pinning and holding him back from going after Izuku.  With the bigger men now holding his client in place, Shouto helps his friend to his feet.  Izuku is so shocked, he buries his face in his friend’s chest to hide away from the bull of a singer, and on instinct, Shouto wraps his arms protectively around Izuku.

But seeing the dynamics between the two men sets Katsuki off even more.  “You bastard, is that why you won’t sleep with me, cause you’re Shouto’s bitch?!”  He spits out the words.  “Stupid losers!”

The manager narrows his eyes at his client, “that’s uncalled for when you’re the one who assaulted him Katsuki.”

“Fuck you!”

“You’re drunk.” Shouto states and looks at the bodyguards.  “Please take him home and don’t let him leave until he sleeps this off.”

“Let me go you, fucktards!”  Katsuki yanks as hard as he can at his restrainers, cussing and straining their hold.  “Don’t you tell me what to do!  This ain’t over yet!  I will make him mine!”  He screams and growls as they drag him away.  “Let me go ya assholes!  You hear me Izuku!  I will make you mine!!!”  

With Katsuki gone, Shouto turns his attention back to his guest.  “Are you okay?”  He sits the man down on the couch.  “Would you like some water or anything?”

Izuku shakes his head.  “You warned me about him but… he is really something.  I-I don’t know how you put up with it.”

The manager just shrugs, “I just don’t let him take me down too and get under my skin.  Katsuki is like a spoiled child, so I treat him that way most of the time.”  He pat’s his friend’s shoulder.  “Just stay here while I close out this party, then I’ll take you home.”

“Okay,” Izuku cracks a pained smile.  It was the first time he’s ever been assaulted since primary school.  He hangs his head and avoids any eye contact, even as exiting guests try to cheer him up.  Being bullied as a quiet, nerdy little kid is a sore spot from his childhood memories and why he was a little shier as an adult.  He tried to stay positive regardless, but it may take a few days for the edge to come down from this event.

When it was clear to Katsuki that his bodyguards slash babysitters weren’t going to let up on him, he sat back in the limo and brooded all the way to his penthouse apartment.  He’d meant what he said back at that party.  Fucking Todoroki, he didn’t care if daddy was the CEO, he was going to find a way to make his life miserable now!  And that Izuku guy.  No one’s dared to turn him down before!  Why would they, it was crazy!  He was Shockwave, whose prowess on stage could only be topped in the bedroom.  ‘That damn mouse!’  Was he so fucking shy and stupid that he really couldn’t handle him?!  

As Katsuki paces his living room floor, visions of Izuku’s green hair and cute smile keep assaulting him.  But the worst part of all this, was he was sober, horny as fuck, and they’d dragged him out of there with no one to screw!  “ARGH!”  Why was a mouse of man getting under his skin so damn much?!  Maybe because he did love a good prey beneath him begging for mercy.  Tugging that green hair of his, ‘and I’d bet Izu would look even sweeter,’ Katsuki licks his lips just thinking about the naked man, ‘ass up and flushed while I’m pummeling him…’

“Ahhhh!!!  Fucking bitch!” he storms away to take a long, hot shower and relieve some of the tension.  

The morning after the album release party may have brought a sober Katsuki, but a no less still fuming one. After shooting off a ‘fuck you’ text to his manager, he set about digging into the man known as Izuku Midoriya.  He didn’t care if Shouto denied they were in a relationship, because based on what he saw for himself, ‘just friends my ass!’  There had to be more to the story, but when he’d lucked out on the typical social media accounts, his anger only grew.  Both men’s Instagram accounts were locked as private, and Izuku didn’t appear to have a Twitter of Snapchat.  

He’d always thought that his manager was straight considering he and the PR lady have been casually dating for a short time now, and that was the only relationship he’d ever noticed.  Katsuki throws himself onto his couch running his contacts through his mind.  Who did he know that knew Shouto well and would be willing to give up the goods on him?  ‘Ha!  Eijiro!’  Shouto used him a lot as a music producer, plus the guy was one of his on again, off again flings when they were in need.  Eijiro Kirishima was one of the few people Katsuki didn’t mind having normal conversations with, so he might be willing to talk.  He didn’t care if that meant bedding the man for a night in return for information since the guy was a lot of fun between the sheets.

A week later, the music producer joins Katsuki for a few beers at his apartment.  Up till now, Katsuki’s been avoiding his manager and calling up other acquaintances to gain any little information he could find.  It wasn’t much considering Midoriya didn’t truly travel in his world.

“Why do you wanna know so bad?”  Eijiro takes another swig of his beer and relaxes back onto the couch.  “The guy isn’t even a part of the industry.”

“Just call me curious who my manager is dicking around with.”

“You’ve never cared before.”

Katsuki sits forward with a glare.  “Look, are you gonna tell me or not Eijiro?”

“I’ll tell ya,” Kirishima laughs, “I’m just curious why you’re so enamored with this.”

“Because the fucker turned me down, that’s why!”  Katsuki clenches his fists, “How the hell could he be more interested in Shouto than me?!  The guy is like talking to an emotionless rock!”

“Dude, he’s not,” Eijiro laughs.  “They just dated a few times, and I never even heard they made it to 3rdbase.  Shouto mentioned once, they were better off as friends, that’s all they are, just close friends.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Look, Midoriya is a really soft guy, so sweet I swear he could give you a tooth ache if you’re around him for too long.”

“Weak man.”

“Whatever, says the guy obsessing over here,” Eijiro chuckles.  “You know if I didn’t know better…. I think you are jealous Katsuki.”

The blonde crosses his arms, holding back the growing desire to throttle his friend, “I am not fucking jealous of a mouse like that!”

“Not of Izuku, of Shouto.”

That struck a nerve.  “I AM NOT JEALOUS OF THAT BASTARD!”  Katsuki jumps off the couch and grabs Eijiro by the shirt.  “You know what, get the fuck out of my house!!”

Eijiro shoves the man off, “Fine!”  He straightens his shirt.  “Can’t take the truth, why am I not surprised.  By the way, good luck with your new album,” he snickers as he slams the front door behind him.  

“Fuck you!  My album is doin’ just fine!”  Katsuki screams back to the closed door.  ‘Where the fuck did that come from?!’  His singles all did extraordinarily well, so it was only a given the album sales would do to.  “My fucking album is fine,” he drops back onto the couch with a harrumph.  Not that he’d been checking, just assumed it was like every other album he’s put out.  

At least before the argument he’d gained some delicious insight into Midoriya.  The man was nothing more than a second-generation florist who was taking over the shop that his mother started.  According to Kirishima, he was hired by many companies, including those in their industry because of his gift in creating elaborate floral pieces tailored for events.  It was how he and Shouto had met.

“Tch, what a sap story.”  It wasn’t surprising the guy would have such a soft and gentle type job that matched his personality perfectly.  Could you imagine Katsuki doing anything like that, not in your life.

But as he visualized walking into the florist shop and being greeted by a sunny smile…  Katsuki growls at the way his heart flutters.  This wasn’t about falling for the guy, dammit!  He just didn’t like the idea of not getting what he wanted and right now, the one person who turned him down was what he fucking wanted!  And as far as he was concerned, Shouto Todoroki seemed to be in the way.

The next day, Katsuki marches into his managers office ready to demand that he be given a new agent, or he’ll find another firm, contract be damned.  

But Shouto doesn’t even bat an eye.  He too had enough of the man’s childish antics.  “I would love to do that, but it appears no one else would want you.”

“Tch, you don’t fucking know that,” the hot-headed blonde crosses his arms and stands menacingly next to Shouto’s desk.  “Why wouldn’t anyone want to have a money-making star?!  Has the whole world gone mad?!”

His eyebrow twitches at the superfluous posturing.  “You’re attitude,” Shouto tosses a newspaper on the desk chair next to Katsuki.  “That’s the UA Metro entertainment section.  They were at the party, saw, andtook photos of your attack on Midoriya.”  The man leans back in his chair as he continues.  “Up until now, your fights were with sketchy individuals, but this time you picked on someone who not only is smaller, weaker, but is popular with a lot of the big companies in this city, including record labels.”

The frustrated manager sighs and pinches his brow.  “There comes a point when even the biggest stars become too much of a liability.  I’ve been getting calls or messages daily from contacts all over the industry.  Producers are concerned with working with you, other agents, even DJ’s are sending me condolences for being stuck as your agent.  I can’t say I blame them.  So, yes, if I could pawn you off on someone else I would, but it’s either me, or the street.”  Shouto leans forward, “and by the way, your album sales are half the volume they were of your last three at the same point in time.  Nobody stays at the top forever.  Your star is falling Katsuki, and there’s no one else you can blame but yourself.”

For the first time in their working relationship, it was the first time Shouto had seen Katsuki go silent during an argument.  The normally competitive man would be cussing, screaming, or denying everything by now, but he was completely mute, just standing there gawking and turning white.  He could pity the man for being foolish, but he just wasn’t in the mood.  Katsuki had simply gone too far this time.  

Shouto gestures to the open door.  “Now if you’ll excuse yourself, I need to clean up after your mess.”  Without any more fanfare, he simply goes back to working on what he had been doing before the singer showed up.

A full minute later as if Katsuki had finally finished processing the gravity of the situation, his personality rears its ugly head.  “T-This is fucked up!”  He slams his fist on the managers desk.  “I don’t care what some stupid media says!  My fans are what matter and they love me!”

“Not according to your album sales,” Shouto responds without even the courtesy of looking up.  “Maybe they’re tired of your antics too.  Look,” he huffs, “for your self-interests, go home Katsuki, stay there, and keep a low profile until things blow over.  And for god-sakes, no ranting on social media!  Now go, before I call in the guards to escort you again.”

It was the first time in Katsuki’s whole life that he’s felt the entire world crash on top of him.  He was so used to being on top, the popular one, even from a young age, but his music career had sent an already swollen ego into overdrive.  There was nothing he couldn’t do if he put his mind to it, but maybe he’s pushed his luck a little too far this time.  ‘All because of a scrawny mouse!’  

“F-Fine!”  Katsuki does his best to save face.  “Yeah, you do your damn job and deal with the vultures!  I’m goin’ home!”  He storms out of the office and heads to the elevator.  Though he screws an indignant expression onto his face, it’s only a mask to those he passes by.  Inside, he was screaming with all the hellfire of a man being stabbed to death.  

‘Say what you will,’ his conscious chimes up during the short elevator ride.  ‘But that scrawny mouse didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘Tch!’

‘And, regardless of what you say, it seems you like what you saw in that mouse.’

‘Can you shut the fuck up!  Where was this voice of reason at the party?!’

‘Locked up, where you normally keep me.’

‘yeah, well go back to your cell…’

Ding.

The elevator opens and all Katsuki can see is a mass of flowers being held by someone blocking the way, so many it completely encompasses their upper body.  “Oi!  Move it idiot!” he snaps.

“Eek!  S-Sorry,” the mass moves to the side to allow Katsuki plenty of space to pass.

But the singer immediately recognizes the voice.  “What the fuck are you doing her Midoriya?!”

The flowers being held by the smaller man begin to shake.  “I-I’m just delivering an order to Mr. Mic for his client Jirou’s birthday.”

Son-of-A!  He knew he’d smelled food when he passed the conference room.  “There’s a fucking party isn’t there?!”  

“I-I think so…”

“Yes, there is,” a harsh male voice responds to the question.  At that moment, Shouto walks out from the second elevator and comes across the two men.  He pushes Izuku even further away from Katsuki.  “But you are not invited, so leave.”  Without any more information than that tidbit, he prompts the florist towards the second elevator.  He was sure the fuming singer was boring holes in his back, but he didn’t care.

“Whatever!” Katsuki snaps as they are getting in.  “I wouldn’t wanna go to her stupid party anyways!”

But it was a ruse.  With his heart barely holding on to life, the singer beelines it for the parking garage before anyone else could see the pain racking his grimaced face.  Everything hurt and he didn’t know how to handle the rush of negative emotions.  Anger is something he could understand, but despair, it was as foreign as a dead language to him.  It felt like all eyes were on him as he passed by employees and visitors alike, and for once he hated being in the spotlight.

The moment he gets into his car, the dam breaks and a gush of tears pour free.  He grips onto the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white and rests his forehead against it.  This was something he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.  To fall from such a height, his heart literally shattered at the sound of those elevator doors closing.  He wanted to scream because of how weak he felt.  He cried because what Shouto had said to him truly hurt!

He hammers at the wheel, “AHHHHH!!!! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!!!!!”  ‘I’m such a fucking dumbass!!!!!  How’d I let shit spiral so out of control!’ If his manager was ready to toss him onto the street, that meant the agency had already approved it.  And if Shouto was telling the truth about the other firms… it meant he would struggle to find a new one.  ‘They’d probably give me a crappy contract.’ Being blackballed like that meant producers, DJ’s, and others would cold-shoulder him as well.  

And what about his album sales?  Why were the numbers so low?  Katsuki knew that physical copy sales had been on a downward trend, but digital copies usually made up for the difference.  “Argh!”  Katsuki closes his eyes, “but how do I fix this?” he mumbles to nobody but himself.  Everything hitting at the same time was overloading his mind.  He didn’t want to admit that what he’s been for much of his life was the bully.  ‘This must be what it feels like on the other side of the line.’  It sucked, and now he felt like a complete asshole who deserved to be tossed to the gutter like street trash.

After delivering the flowers, Midoriya goes back to his delivery van in the parking garage where he notices someone sitting in their car.  Not a very big deal, but he can see that their head is resting against the steering wheel.  The closer he gets to the car; he sees the tell-tale blonde hair and realizes it was Katsuki.  He hesitates with his first inclinations to turn around and pretend like he never saw anything for fear of being hurt again.  But the longer he watches, he can see that the man wasn’t just upset, but possibly crying.  Now that came as a shock.  From everything he’s been told, Katsuki Bakugou didn’t come across as the type to ever cry, at least not in public.  Against his better judgment, Midoriya walks over to the man’s driver side window and lightly taps on the window.  

“Are you okay Mr. Bakugou?”

The sudden intrusion snaps Katsuki to attention.  He quickly wipes at his face and turns to see who would dare to approach his car, because if it was a fan, he really wasn’t in the mood for it.  His shoulders slump, of course it would be Midoriya.  He cracks the ignition and rolls down his window.  “What do you want mouse?”

Midoriya nervously scratches the back of his neck and musters a smile in the hopes of breaking the tension.  “I’m sorry to disturb you Mr. Bakugou, but you seemed upset, so I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine dweeb,” the singer responds in a monotone reflecting very little emotion.

“Oh-Okay… B-but you were crying.”

Damn this guy really was annoyingly sweet.  Couldn’t he see that he just wasn’t in the mood to be bothered.  “Tch!”  Katsuki turns his head away.  “What do you care?”    

“Well, you see” he fidgets with his fingers, “I just don’t like seeing people upset… and I know it must have something to do with that party, so I feel bad.”

“Well you shouldn’t,” Katsuki maintains a level tone trying not to show his annoyance, “cause you didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”  ‘Shit, I was the prick idiot.’

“Mr.  Bakugou?”

Okay he was really getting tired of the mister part.  He rolls his eyes and stares forward away from the man, ‘Ugh,’ “What is it?”

“I’d like to start over, if that’s okay…. And maybe be friends?”

After everything he put the man through, he was still willing to be friends with him?!  Katsuki’s head whips back to face the man standing outside his door.  “Why?  Is this a trick?” His brows furrow and eyes narrow.  “Did Shouto put you up to this?!”  He just couldn’t fathom, with the world turning against him, that Midoriya wanted to give him a second chance.  “This better not be a trick or something, cause I’ve had enough bad news for one day…”

“N-No, No!”  Midoriya waves his hands in front of himself frantically.  “No trick, I swear!  Shouto doesn’t know I’m talking to you.  He’d probably kill me if he knew!”

“Tch, you guys are still seeing each other aren’t you, just keeping it hushed up?”

“What?!”  The man stiffens up.  “No!  He’s not really my type,” Midoriya blushes bright red.  “He just worries because I get emotional really easily.”  He fidgets with his fingers, “S-so, would you like to be friends?”

Katsuki thinks for a moment.  This could be the saving grace he was hoping for.  “Yeah sure, why not.”

They exchange contact information and agree to meet for lunch in a couple of days.  Katsuki watches Midoriya walk away, and for the first time in days, a small smile registers on his face.  It’s been a long time since he’s had such a normal interaction that it felt a little weird… but nice for a change.  Who knew?  Katsuki chuckles and drives home.  Maybe there really was a way to dig himself out of this mess after all.

Their first luncheon went quietly without any problems, leaving both men with a sense of starting off fresh.  The singer actually felt good at the end, like a small high without the need for chemical substances.  But by the next day, they were thrown back into the spotlight when a blogger caught a photo of them together and blasted social media with it.  Oh, was the singer pissed!  Katsuki wanted to go after the man for spinning rumors of a new affair with the florist that made Midoriya look like some kind of whore.  

Luckily Shouto had caught him before he could react, and with the help of the PR department convinced him to let them handle it.  A journalist for UA Metro did a follow up story and interviewed Midoriya.  The sweet natured florist sold the truth and confirmed the luncheon was nothing more than an innocent lunch to bury the hatchet, and by the time it had ended they were on the road to being friends.  Shouto had been irritated about being caught off guard with the news and the fact that they’d met up, but he also couldn’t stay upset when in the end it helped to bolster Katsuki’s broken image just a little.  

It was awkward and rough for the first few weeks despite the initial meeting going well.  Over time, Midoriya’s positive and sweet disposition appeared to be rubbing off on Katsuki much to Shouto’s relief.  His client needed all the help he could get to turn things around.  

On the professional side, having Midoriya in his corner was thawing relations with the industry, but album sales were another story.  Consumer polls hinted that the slight shift in the style of music from pop/alternative, to more of a hard rock style may have something to do with it.  Fans liked Shockwave’s semi-edgy music, but at least the pop angle broadened his reach.  By leaning too heavily into one genre, they may have lost some of the fan base.  It was okay, they still had options in boosting sales such as putting out remixes to add back in the pop feel.  In the meantime, working on rebuilding his personal image may also help sway the fans.

In reality, the covetous nature Katsuki had felt in the beginning was turning into an obsession.  And the question now became, how far would he go to keep it from slipping through his fingers a second time?  Now he understood his managers desire to protect.  He wanted to keep Midoriya happy because of the warm, fuzzy embers it stirred in him.            

The singer was a lot nicer now, but that didn’t mean he’d lost all of his bravado.  Katsuki still craved attention and would do anything to keep it.  At the same time, he wasn’t an idiot.  Staying out of trouble and Midoriya’s friendship were the sources of the turnaround, so he showed his appreciation in the only way he knew how.  Meals, movies, tickets to anything that interested the man, Katsuki would lavish gifts upon him.  He put up with whatever the man was willing to give just to keep him happy, and if he was being honest with himself, simply cuddling on the couch wasn’t that bad after all.

By the sixth month into their friendship, Katsuki would spend every last dime if that’s what it would take to make Midoriya his. 

Katsuki was happier than he’s ever been.  His music career was back on track, and the last several months, all the relationships he had in his life were mending well.  Instead of being combative, he’d turned into an easy client for Shouto to manage.  No more arguments about direction or the need to micromanage the writers that had created great lyrics for him all along.  There were a few minor set back’s whenever he’d had a little too much to drink in a club, but nowhere near the explosive episodes he would reach in the past.

Izuku on the other hand wasn’t faring as well.  He wanted to believe that deep down Katsuki wasn’t a bad person, he was almost sure of it.  The rockers lifestyle had created an incredible vain and arrogant man or at least turned a proud man into an even bigger narcissist.  And while over the past few months, he’s seen some changes for the better, the singer struggled with his vices.  Izuku wasn’t even sure if the singer realized his failings.

When it came to the singer’s music or staying in shape, Katsuki worked hard, but in more other things the less effort he had to put in the better.  The man would rather eat out than cook, be driven than drive himself, and cleaning, well… that was the maid’s job.  Izuku wondered how much the man even paid attention to his own finances, or did he just let his financial manger deal with it?  Out of sight, out of mind.  All Katsuki wanted to focus on was enjoying life his way.  But Izuku knew better of the world, and this worried him.

His fondness of the singer had grown tremendously, and it pained him to think that they were just too different to make anything work.  Izuku wanted some stability, wanted to know that this life wouldn’t come crashing down someday, leaving him broken with nothing to show for it.  It scared him a little.  After grappling with his decision, Izuku realized that it wasn’t fair to continue this way.  He couldn’t even define the type of relationship there was between them.

“But I thought things were fucking fine with us!”

“Katsuki I’m not another fanboy or some trophy hanging off your arm to display to the press.”

The blonde growls, “I never said you were.”

Izuku sighs, “it’s how you make me feel.  You’re a lot of fun to hang out with, but I want a real relationship.  Someone who I feel like I can grow old with, who loves me for who I am, that will do the right things to make sure this,” he gestures to the apartment as a metaphor, “life will last, and we wouldn’t end up broke and destitute one day.”  Moisture brims just below the surface as he stands to leave.  “I’m sorry Katsuki…”

“N-No, you can’t fucking just leave like that!”  Katsuki couldn’t believe they were going through this again.  “I’ve been behaving for you!  I buy you anything you’d want!  What more do you want from me?!”

“Kacchan, all the gifts are nice, but I don’t require material things.  And yes,” Izuku smiles softly and places his hand against the blonde’s cheek, “I could almost fall in love with this nicer version.”  A tear trickles down, “but you aren’t ready to settle down yet, and I’m not gonna force you to.”

Katsuki’s heart seizes up at the use of the pet name.  He’d hated it at first, but now… It was like being back in his car in that garage all over again.  His voice falters as the tears catch in his throat, “I’ll do whatever it takes Izu, just don’t give up on me, please?”

“I’m not.  We can still be friends and hang out sometimes.”

Just friends… like how Shouto was relegated to the friendzone.  Katsuki’s heart wanted to stop right then and there.  He couldn’t even respond, didn’t know how to.

Izuku places a kiss on Katsuki’s cheek.  “Goodbye, Kacchan.”

The blonde just watches Midoriya leave unable to move from the couch.  He felt like a piece of lead or as if someone had taken adhesive and glued his feet to the floor.  Nine months ago, Katsuki would have raged, probably thrown things, hit something but the ache was different this time.  He wanted to curl up in a ball or maybe jump off a cliff.  Would anyone miss him if he dove out of his sixteenth-floor window right now?  The answer was probably not, and that was the reason he couldn’t move.  No one that mattered would miss him…

‘That’s not true.’

‘Welcome back bitch,’ Katsuki snaps at himself.  ‘You’ve been quiet for months.’

‘You didn’t need me for once.  And stop being such a pussy and get off the damn couch.  Are you too stupid to realize it’s not over yet?’

“Fuck off.”

It was the first time since high school that Katsuki actually wanted only one person.  He’d gone a little crazy with all the access and choices to satiate his libido, but hell, he hasn’t had sex in five months because all he’s been craving was Izuku.  If staying celibate for such a long period in his history didn’t show just how enamored he was with the freckle-faced mouse, he didn’t know what would.

And what did he mean about doing the right thing?  Was Midoriya saying he wasn’t responsible enough to trust?  Okay, that part may have some truth to it, but it’s never been something Katsuki ever thought about.  As he looks around his apartment, he assumes the man was looking towards the future.  Music paid for all of this, but what happens when things die down?  He was pretty sure that money was being tucked away for his retirement, but he wasn’t sure since it was all in the hands of his manager.  

‘That’s the point,’ his conscious chimes in.  ‘You should stop focusing on just partying all the time and actually grow up.’

“Ugh!”  he couldn’t argue with that.  But how will he convince Midoriya that he can change?  He didn’t really have any friends to turn to, and there was no way in hell that he was calling his mother for love advice. Katsuki groans and whips out his phone dialing a number.

“Hello?”

“Shouto… I’ll be dropping by your office in the morning…”

As the singer walked in that morning to his office, Shouto Todoroki was a little taken aback by the man’s appearance.  He wouldn’t call Katsuki stylish per se except in his own way, but at least the man maintained a put together look whenever in public.  But not today.  The man slumped in the chair before him looked like a totally different person.  His hair was unkempt like he’d just rolled out of bed, clothes were thrown on, wrinkled, and didn’t even match.  

“So, what did you need to talk to me about Katsuki?”  

The blonde averts his eyes to the window, “it’s about Izuku…”

Shouto quickly sits forward, “What did you do?!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Katsuki shifts in the seat and stares at the manager.  He could have been angry about the insinuation, but, “Wait, so he didn’t talk to you?!  I kinda assumed he would.”

“No, I haven’t spoken to him in a few days.  Now are you gonna tell me what is going on?”

Katsuki deflates further into the armchair.  “To be honest, I don’t know how to explain.  Whatever there is between Izu and I, he called off last night.  Said, he’s looking for a real relationship and doesn’t think I’m ready for one.”

“Well, are you?  It’s a simple question Katsuki, and to be brutally honest, I don’t think you are.”

Leave it to mister ice man to lay it in bluntly.  The Blonde groans and covers his face with his hands.  “For once I can’t disagree.  But, for him… I’m willing to try.”

He wanted to call the man a liar, but based on Katsuki’s disposition, for one he actually believed him. Shout’s eyebrow raises.  “You do see how it’s difficult for anyone to believe that, right?  You are by far, one of the worst playboys I have ever met who didn’t even care what sex it was as long as they gave you what you wanted, and you’ve been this way for years.  Can you really change in just a few short months?”

Ouch.  Turn of the knife.  “Hey, I haven’t had sex in months, thank you very much.  Just haven’t been interested in anyone else, ya know.”

“Except Izuku?”

“Yeah…”

“Wow, you really are serious…”

Katsuki sits up, “THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYING TO PROVE!” then slumps back in his chair.  “Come on man, you know him well, what can I do?!”

The manager leans back and crosses his arms, contemplating what to say next.  A part of him wanted to push this separation further to protect Izuku from going back to the singer.  But if Katsuki was being honest, who was he to separate two grown men from love.  The singer didn’t know, but Izuku had confided in him that he was falling in love with Katsuki and that it scared the hell out him.  That fear must have been what pushed Izuku to make this latest decision.  He sighs, “All I can say is you’ll have to somehow show him that you are being forthcoming about how you feel.  Unless he believes he can trust you, you’ll never convince him that you’re being genuine.”

“Ugh…” it was the truth, but that still didn’t help him figure out what to do.

“Go home, clean yourself up, cause you look like shit, and come up with a plan Katsuki.  Oh, and regarding your birthday next month, is there anything specific you’d like to do?”

“The usual, I guess.  Just the typical industry party and make sure all the dignitaries are there so I can thank them for sticking by me.”  Not that he felt like celebrating, but this was more for showing face.

“Done.  Now go home and meditate on what I said.  If you want him back, bare yourself to him and figure out a way to earn it.”  

Katsuki nods, “yeah.”  He stands up and walks to the door, then pauses at the threshold.  With his head slightly turned in the man’s direction.  “Thanks, Shouto.”

Shocked but happy by his client’s progress, Shouto smiles.  “You’re welcome.”  Maybe Izuku really was the best thing for the singer after all.

The days leading up until his birthday dragged by like a never-ending winter storm.  It was cold, lonely, miserable, and the emptiness Katsuki felt only drove home how pitiful his seemingly ‘perfect’ life had truly been.  He missed the light that Izuku had brought into his world, and if it wasn’t for the chance of seeing the man again, Katsuki would have gladly stayed home from the party.

And as he walked into that hotel’s small ballroom, a sense of dreaded déjà vu hits him.  He swore under his breath that Shouto rented the same room as the last party in order to torture him.  The furniture and décor were moved around since the last one, but he could still recognize the pieces.  His eyes zero in on the dreaded couch that started it all.  ‘Nope,’ he changes course and heads over to the standing bar.  Things may had gotten better, but that couch had too many bad memories attached to it.

He’d spent the entire 27 days trying to figure out what he could do to win Izuku over, and of those, 8 of them were in convincing the man to attend this party.  After swearing on a non-existent bible that he would stay clean and sober through the event, Izu finally relented.  So, with his beer to nurse in hand, Katsuki takes a seat near the entrance and waits for the man to arrive.  He’d never admit it, but the singer felt like a happy and expectant puppy waiting for their owner to arrive home.

“Hi…”

Katsuki hears the soft voice and feels the tap on his shoulder and turns around to a jaw dropping sight.  Izuku was dressed in a stylish, forest green faux leather blazer, white button-down collared shirt, slacks to match, and brightened by the glow on his face.  “Happy birthday, Kacchan,” he holds out a small neatly wrapped gift.

But instead of immediately taking the gift, he pulls the smaller man in and wraps his arms around him in a hug, taking in the fresh floral scents that clung to the man that he’d come to love.  Katsuki buries his face in the surprised man’s neck, “thank you for coming, it means a lot to me.”

Izuku recovers quickly from the unexpected hug and reciprocates, smiling even though the man couldn’t see it.  It felt good to see the singer again.  “You’re welcome Kacchan.”

To hear that nickname after a month of absence was so much better than any music to his ears.  His eyes cloud up and he squeezes them shut to hide it.  Damn he felt weak, but at that moment, Katsuki didn’t care.  He didn’t want to let go but knew it would be awkward to stay that way, so after a few more second, he lets Izuku go.  Katsuki accepts the gift and gestures over to an area where they can sit.  “Would you like a drink?  I’ll go grab you one.”

Again, Izuku is a bit surprised by the question, but shoves his euphoria down.  “Um, sure, something light would be great.”

Katsuki grabs the drink for his friend and returns, taking a seat next to Izuku.  “Thank you,” the man smiles in acceptance.

Throughout the evening other guests come and go, dropping by the pair to say hi or chat for a while.  It was nice, relaxing, and though the temptations were there, Katsuki never took them.  He was even able to convince Izuku to dance with him for a couple of slower songs, but other than that, seemed content to stay put on that couch.

It was completely out of the ordinary for the singer, but no one was upset about the change, least of all Izuku.  All night, no outbursts, sipping on the same drink, and being a perfect gentleman.  His heart was soaring despite the lingering fears.  Will this last?  Can Katsuki really change?  Oh, how he wanted to believe it!

The party was going great and soon enough the halfway point had come.  Shouto drags Katsuki up to the stage for a birthday cake, over the man’s protestations of them singing him happy birthday.                        

“Just shut up and deal with it, then you can execute your plan,” Shouto whispers.

“Fine,” Katsuki growls.

As the crowd of half inebriated adults sings an out of tune version of the birthday song, the singer fumbles nervously with something in his pocket at the thought of giving a speech when this was over.  It takes a couple of the longest minutes of his life, but soon enough the DJ cuts the music and he’s free once more.  Katsuki gives the DJ a signal to play a specific instrumental song at lower volume, and Shouto hands him the microphone.

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight, hope you guys are having a good time.  I also want to say how much I appreciate all of you for putting up with me until now.”  Nerves kick in and singer feels a bout of stage fright kicking in.  “But I have an announcement to make.”  Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his manager waving at their friend to come up.  “Izuku, would you please join us on the stage?”

“Wh-what?!”  Izuku deadpans but rises to his feet and cautiously makes his way to the stage.  It was a new experience to be centerstage like this.  Every fiber of his being wanted to bolt.

Katsuki takes hold of his hand and squeezes, whispering off mic that everything would be okay.  Shouto too, gives him a wink… Okay, now that was really strange, Izuku realized, the two men were in collusion.

“I’m sure everyone in this room know the man standing next to me, whether by profession or the photo’s leaked in the media.  It was in this very room at my album unveiling that we didn’t exactly start off on the right foot.”  Snickers are heard through the room.  “But we were able to get past that and I’d like to say we’ve become friends?” He turns to Izuku, who smiles nervously but nods in agreement.

Katsuki squeezes his hand, then releases it so he can pull the box from his pocket.  “He is the reason I am the person standing before you today.  I’m not completely rehabilitated,” he chuckles and even gains a chortle from Izuku for the crack, “but as you can see, even a tiger can change its stripes.”

Despite his nerves, the sweet words coming from Katsuki brings a smile to Izuku’s face and he could almost forget the fact he was standing in front of a crowd of people.  

“But what I don’t think even he realizes is his true effect on me.”  Katsuki now turns to face Izuku completely instead of the guests and hands the microphone back to Shouto.  “You were right, for a long time I wasn’t ready to settle down, but when someone special comes into your life, the dumbest mistake would be not to recognize it.”  He opens the box and holds it up as Izuku’s eyes expand.  “This is my promise to you, Izuku, if you’ll have me as your boyfriend.  To show you that I will do anything in this world to make you happy for the rest of your life.”

“Oh my god,” Izuku’s hands fly up to his mouth, covering it in shock.  “Kacchan, t-this isn’t…”

“No,” Katsuki chuckles and takes the man’s right hand into his own, “they’re promise rings… for now, until I’ve proven myself worthy to ask for you hand.  You’re my balance Izu, and I love you for it.”

The roar of the guests from the unfolding scene is barely heard as the two men’s gazes are locked onto each other’s.

Tears pour down Izuku’s face as can only nod his acceptance, too flustered and tongue tied to do anything more than just allow Katsuki to place the ring on his right ring finger.  “I love you too Kacchan,” he beams and wipes away some of the tears trailing down his cheek.

After placing a ring on his own finger, Katsuki raises the back of Izu’s hand and places a light kiss on it.  He grins wide, caressing the man’s face and smoothing away more of the tears.  “Only happy tears from now.  I love you mouse.”

Tours were great for exposure and fan support, but they could be such a taxing experience.  Months on the road moving from city to city or sometimes country to country.  In the past it wasn’t a big deal to Katsuki because it was like one long party.  But not anymore.  The married man was itching to get back home to his husband of three years.  Izuku had joined him for the first leg of the tour, but with the holiday season starting up, the florist industry was just too busy for him to leave it all in his mom’s hands.  And besides, the woman just couldn’t do the types of piece’s her son had mastered.  

But it was finally November and Katsuki had just finished his last performance.  He was practically foaming at the mouth at the prospect of seeing his husband in just a few more hours.

‘I’ll be waiting *wink emoji*’ Izuku replies.  ‘And don’t worry dinner will be ready by the time you get home.’

‘Fuck dinner, I’m just happy to see you.’

‘trust me Kacchan, youre gonna like tonights dinner *kissy face emoji*’

After arriving back at their hometown, the limo takes the singer straight to his apartment.  He was almost dead on his feet upon arrival and the only thing fueling his steps forward was seeing his man.  Katsuki drags his suitcases in and leaves them by the front door for the next morning.

“Babe, I’m home!”

“In here!” Katsuki hears his husband’s voice calling from the bedroom.  

As he walks through the apartment, he notices there’s nothing cooking, and no delicious smells coming from the kitchen.  How odd, if Izuku says he’s doing something, the man always does it.  Where he was a mess, his husband was the glue that kept them balanced.

“Hey babe, I thought you said dinner…” when Katsuki walks into the bedroom, the words die away on his tongue.

“is served,” a cheeky Izuku giggles and finishes the sentence.

“Holy… mother…”

There his blushing husband sat on his shins in the middle of their bed that is just covered in yellow green rose petals.  Izuku was clothed in a red silk robe, with his green hair tousled, and the robe front opened slightly to reveal the pale milky skin beneath it.  God damn he looked like a Christmas present that Katsuki was all but happy to open.

Izuku giggles even more at his husband’s gawking and sways the ends of his robe’s sash to break the stare. Because of the tour schedule, this had been the longest time they’d spent apart since their relationship began, and he just wanted to do something special.  Okay, that was a partial truth.    

“Go take a quick shower Kacchan, and I’ll be waiting right here for you.”

“Hell yes!”  Well no one had to tell him twice, as shoes and clothing were stripped and tossed on his quick exit towards the bathroom.  The blonde whipped through a shower in probably 5 minutes, drying himself off and walking back out buck naked.  Katsuki really had no shame what-so-ever.  

He grins at his sweet little mouse on the bed, who still sat in the same position toying with the sash.  “Need help with that,” he teases, gaining a coquettish smile and nod.  Katsuki climbs over the mattress, sitting in front of Izuku, and takes hold of the ends, “yeah we don’t need this anymore,” he pulls and tosses the sash aside for maybe later.  Next, he runs his hands under the edges of the robes opening, sliding them up against Izuku’s chest until they reach the man’s shoulders and slowly slips the silken fabric down his arms.            

With the robe added to the spattering of discarded clothing, Katsuki moves in, peppering his husband’s skin with kisses.  He pulls the man up till they’re both on their knees, with the smaller man’s legs constrained between his thighs.  Their bodies pressed up against one another, he continues covering Izuku’s neck with light little nips and pressured kisses, suckling, teasing every inch as his tongue eases its way up to the man’s jaw, and pulling delicious tender mewls from the mouse.  

Katsuki never would have thought that such soft and tender love making would appeal to him, but his husband opened him up to a whole new world of pleasure.  He loved the sensual acts and making Izuku purr with each new touch, or moan from every delectation he provided gave a boost to his ego that a million screaming fans couldn’t even hold a candle to.  It was a powerful high for the Rockstar that had him hooked like a drug.

Izuku weaves his hands around his husband, stroking long strides up and down the skin.  He trails the muscular ridges and seams, teasing little rivulets of quivers along the plane, then rounds Katsuki’s rear end, giving the firm flesh a good squeeze.  His fingers travel lower, just enough and pulse the middle ground between the man’s ass and balls, rubbing strong tight circles over the convergence of nerves.  

The blonde freezes and moans at the contact.  “Don’t,” he growls and bites Izu’s ear, “my way, tonight.”  Katsuki has a plan and it involves torture of a different kind.  

The smaller man whines but gives in to his husband’s demand… for now.  Turn out being a minx was a kink he’d come to enjoy being, at least in bed.

As one hand manipulates his husbands throat, the other snakes it’s way behind his back.  Katsuki trails his nails along the spine, creating little ripples of the muscles in response, and shivers threading through Izuku’s frame.  When it reaches the lower back, he flattens his palm over the skin, pressuring the hips to move forward.  He couples the move with a grind of his own pelvis, earning a deeper moan from his love at the friction of their cocks writhing against each other.

Skin to skin, their bodies grind in a slow rhythm of music only known to themselves.  Izuku tries to take hold of his husband’s cock but is rebuffed and reprimanded with another, sharper prick of Katsuki’s canines against his bare throat.  

“Not yet,” the blonde murmurs while still teasing kisses.  “I’ll tie your hands if you keep being a brat.”  

“But you must be tired,” his husband whimpers, “I wanna help too.”

“Never tired for you, mouse.”  

“Please,” Izuku makes another move to grab Katsuki’s dick, but is thwarted when the man simply grabs him by the forearms and lifts them up.  

Using gravity to his advantage, Katsuki pushes the man onto his back and pins his hips down with his own. He grabs the discarded robe sash and binds Izuku’s wrists, keeping them above his head.  “I warned you,” he grins, happy to enjoy the view.  His husband wriggles and pulls slightly at the bindings, but cannot compete against the larger, heavier man who has him pinned.  “I bet you did that on purpose,” Katsuki chuckles.

“Maybe…” Izuku smirks.  His preference was for the sensual, but after months of only self-pleasure to sustain him, he was hungrier than usual.  

“I know,” Katsuki kisses his lips, long and hard.  “I was lonely too, all the more reason I want this to last.”

While still holding Izuku down with one hand, Katsuki lifts up his midsection to shift leg positions from the outside to the inside.  His husband happily obliges and spreads his legs apart.  Once fixed between the man’s thighs, he lets his weight settle and pin down pelvis on pelvis.  

Izuku wraps his legs around Katsuki’s, cinching in a hold with his feet below the ass cheeks.  It was about all he could control.  He uses the leverage to help him grind harder against the man’s cock and bring himself some relief in the process.  It was painful how hard he was.  He could feel the sheen of sweat from the heat swirling in the area lubricating his movements.  

The truth was, Katsuki could have kept Izuku from moving around, but instead allowed the man to keep up the grinding while he focused on other areas.  He was having too much fun teasing the pale flesh of his husband’s throat and leaving flushed red reminders of his progress.  It made him feel like an animal, laying their claim.  But he muses to himself, there were definitely going to be bruises in the morning, he smiles between the kisses.  He pulls Izuku’s nipple into his mouth, rimming the pert little button with his tongue, and vexing the sensitive skin through his teeth.  

“Kacc—han…”

His husband reacts with a high-pitched rasp and arching of his body to ply the blonde’s mouth deeper.  In response, Katsuki sucks harder on the nipple and gains another garbled version of his name.  Yes!  These were the sounds he wanted to hear!  He moves on to the other nipple, giving it the same rough treatment and earning his rewards.  Back and forth he tortures his delectable little mouse, until the man is panting and fighting hard against his restraints.

“Please…” Izuku begs through his gasps and rocks his hips firmly against his husbands.  The desperation to be filled by Katsuki and feel the heat of his cock driven deep within him was making him delirious.  All the oral ministrations were amazing, but they were driving him insane!  “Please,” he whimpers again when Katsuki sits up to gauge his next move.  

Seeing Izuku so flushed and feverish sent a pang straight to Katsuki’s groin.  The man was covered in a sheen of moisture and precum was leaching out of his dick.  He trails his tongue along the seam of his lips.  Izu’s eyes were half-lidded and looking up at him with such wanton desire that he couldn’t help but finally give in… at least partially.  

After three years he knew that look.  Like a switch being triggered on the blonde.  Realizing that Katsuki was ready to give him what he wanted, Izuku relaxes his legs to give the man room to move.  He stays still, with his arms compliantly above his head, just motioning to the bottle of lubricant he’d placed next to the pillow earlier.  

The blonde growls a favorable sonant and grabs the lube.  He shifts his husband’s hips up, but when he reaches under to ply the man’s entrance with the lubricant, he discovers something else the man had prepared.  “Damn,” Katsuki grabs the small handle of the plug, “you really wanted to be ready for me huh mouse?”

“Are you upset?” Izuku winces.  “I just really missed you.”

“Hell nah, I ain’t mad,” Katsuki caresses the man’s backside and leans down slightly as he plants a quick kiss on his husband’s lips.  “Relax,” he whispers as he sits back up and starts to pull.  

Izuku does as he’s told, relaxing his muscles so his husband can easily remove the plug.  He then waits with abated breath, watching in heady anticipation as Katsuki slathers his dick and then Izuku’s entrance with the lubricant.  His eyes roll back at just the barest of stimulation.  The sensation of the man’s fingers toying with his ready flesh, then feeling something press up ready to enter him was all he’d been craving for.

No talking…  No sound…  Just the pressure of being filled as Katsuki pushed through at a leisurely pace.  When Izuku cracks a peak to see just why, he sees his husband staring down with the widest grin, just watching his dick slowly disappear.  The man was utterly enjoying the view and somehow that made Izuku glow, knowing how much this man loved being with him.

Fully seated in his husband, Katsuki rocks leisurely, just once along the full length, observing Izuku’s anguish at how gingerly he was toying with him.  Another slow and agonizing thrust again pulls a pained sigh.  He grins and continues for a few more rounds, all the while watching the man’s silent thirst multiple.  Sensual didn’t have to mean boring, oh no, Katsuki has learned, it could be pure and unadulterated torture.

The blonde shifts positions back to missionary and once prone and plugging his husband, Katsuki covets Izuku’s mouth, plying his tongue with his own.  His hands apply pressure, forcing the man’s hips down as he grind upwards.  He counsels every moan or whimper and tampers it down with a dance of his tongue.  

In response, Izuku wraps his legs around Katsuki’s thighs and arches his back into a different angle.  His gasping squeals are swallowed by the blonde after each buried thrust, and the friction… heavenly skin to skin grinding against one another, melding together in a slow rhythm.  He could feel his cock squished been their bodies, and every time Katsuki moved, it rubbed along the length as if it were being caressed by his hand.  Not that it matter much, Izuku’s mind was being pulled in several directions, and his body pleasured in more ways than one.  His senses were saturated by the mixture of heat, starry images behind his eyelids, and the scent of their love making filling the room.

But every time Katsuki could feel the building climax, he slowed his movements to a crawl, or stayed deeply rooted as he doles out sloppy kisses over other areas of his husband’s skin.  “I fucking love you so much mouse,” he murmurs unexpectedly, before adding more nibbles along the man’s neck.  

“Mmmm… I love you too… Kacchan…” he purrs back.  

“Mmm,” Katsuki hums in response.

The hums vibrations and breath fanning over Izuku’s skin sends rippling shivers all over his body with a piercing arrow straight to his soul.  He’d never known such levels of physical pleasure before Katsuki, and Izuku was sure that no one would ever be able to satisfy him as well as he could.  With his hands still loosely bound, he manages to weave them over the blonde’s head and threads his fingers through the back of the spikey tresses.

Katsuki moans and shudders when Izuku’s nails scrape against the scalp.  He growls a punishment that falls on deaf ears as his husband continues the gest unimpeded.  

Emboldened, Izu lets his nails ghost along the back of the blonde’s neck, earning a deeper moan and groveling growl.  He giggles.  “EEP!”  Then squeals when Katsuki forcefully rocks his hips so hard, the man sees white.

“Enough?”

“Again,” the man whines.

“You, naughty brat,” Katsuki chuckles.  He knows Izu wants him to go faster and harder, but he fights to resist.  “No.”

“Aww.”

His husband’s cute pout only earns him one more thrust.

“Soon,” Katsuki nips Izu’s ear.  “I’ll make you cry out my name soon enough, but first,” he sits back up on his haunches, “a little more pleasure for the mix.”  He takes hold of his husbands cock and wraps his fingers around the shaft just below the head.  Izu’s breathing falters and catches as the man’s thumb sweeps over the tip, plying the slit and spreading the drips of pre-cum over the sensitive skin.  

“Kacch…”  Izuku gasps.  His body arches briskly and the muscles around Katsuki’s dick tighten sharply.  

“Tch.” The blonde smirks as he reaches over for the discarded lube and applies a generous amount over the erection.  “Poor mouse, you’re so hard for me aren’t ya.”  Izu nods and whimpers, mewling when the man squeezes gently.  Dear god he was beyond turned on by this point and if his husband went too fast, he might blow too quickly.

Katsuki’s semi-roughened fingers from playing guitar strings clash against the pliant and servile skin of Izuku’s cock.  He glides his movements up and down, caressing the head before plunging the shaft in repetition.  Squeezing, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with his thumb and all the while soaking in the writhing body it’s attached to.  He holds Izuku’s hips in place so the man can’t squirm away.  At times his grip digs into the flesh just to keep him still.

But when Katsuki adds his own hip action to the mix, Izu cries out and brings his hands over his face to bite down on his palm.  Over stimulation from being fucked and masturbated at the same time triggers a babble of incoherent words.  His vision grows blurry and his breathing more and more labored.  Tears gather in his eyes clamped shut, and his legs solidify its lock around Katsuki’s frame.  This is what he’d been craving!  Izuku is losing what little strength he has in his legs and begins to pressure his husband to speed up his thrusts.  

He could have countered his husband’s pulls, but Katsuki went with it, and increased the speed he was jerking off Izuku.  Just a little more….  “Hold out for me,” the blonde grits out through his own panting.  “Almost… there…”

“Kac-chan, please!” the stricken man begs for the sweet mercy of release.  

Izuku fumbles for his own cock, as Katsuki’s hand starts to slip.  They were both about to hit the edge and it was getting harder to focus.  He stokes hard and fast while his husband makes short work of mounting him deeper.

A flash of light sears Katsuki’s vision for a split second as his orgasm strikes.  He bites down hard and locks his jaw as he rides out the waves of seed filling his husband.  Beneath him, the smacking sounds of the sieges he’s levying on his husband are drowned out by the broken high-pitched moans from Izu’s own climax.  

“Holy shit,” he groans and practically collapses onto Izuku, too tired and spent.  Months of pent up sexual frustration really took its toll.  “Damn, I missed that.”

Izuku’s legs felt like rubber and drop like dead weight onto the mattress.  He does what he can with his wrists still bound, cradling the back of Katsuki’s head, and threading his fingers through the blonde locks.  “Me too, Kacchan…. Me too.”  Soon enough, he hears the light pattern of breathing and sees that his husband has fallen asleep on top of him.  Izuku smiles and kisses the man’s forehead, before closing his own eyes.  Home where he belongs…    

#bakudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fanfiction #katsudeku #katsudeku fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #Midoriya izuku #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bakudeku smut #bnha au #bnha edit #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #kacchan #deku #deku x kacchan

[the-final-sif]

Ooh. Consider a film crew BKDK story. They could both be actors; actor and crew member; or both crew members. If Katsuki were a crew member I see him as a pyrotechnic or stuntman. For Izuku, I think a script supervisor or stuntman - but tbh I prefer him as a first time actor hanging out with the cute angry pyrotechnician/stuntman during their break. The rest of Class 1-A can fill in for other roles like cameraman, director, etc.

I think for a film crew story, Izuku would be an actor who insists on doing all his own stunts because they’re risky and he doesn’t want anyone else getting hurt. As a result, he’s gotten hurt several times. The director would’ve forced him to let a stuntman do them, but Izuku has a very unique movement style that means it ends up looking wrong every time someone else tries. He’s new to the acting scene but trained under All-Might whose a well-established star.

Katsuki is also an actor, the co-star of the film and playing an antagonist (an anti-hero who ends up saving the group at the end). He also does all his own stunts but unlike Izuku he can actual do the stunts without getting hurt. Katsuki was a child star (starting at like 4-5), and so far he’s managed to avoid the path a lot of child stars go down with getting addicted to drugs or alcohol, it left him pretty jaded and a bit of a jerk. He doesn’t put up with the media’s bullshit even a little bit, and he has few fucks to give in general. People have been trying to take advantage of him and suck up to him since he was old enough to know that’s why they were doing, and he’s got no damn time for that. He and Izuku were childhood friends, but grew apart after Katsuki’s acting career kicked off because he was traveling so much. In this AU they wouldn’t have as much of a negative history, it’s mostly just Katsuki being jealous that Izuku had someone to guide him through all this while he went through all this alone.

Despite being a bit of a jerk, Katsuki is well-loved among the set design, costuming, and makeup crews. One of the ways he kept himself sober as a child star (beyond pure stubborn will power) was he picked up a number of hobbies and real life skills. People expect him to be pampered and spoiled, and somehow he’s the opposite. His favorite thing is backpacking on his own with low-tech equipment. If he can do something himself, he will do it himself. Cooking, cleaning, building things, etc. He has a particular interest in pyrotechnics and he’s damn good at them. When he’s not acting he can often be found helping out the set design crews, he’s the makeup crew’s favorite because he not only knows how to make their lives easier, but he also has a lot of good suggestions. Costuming and him get along well too, with him having helped them out with more than one last minute sewing rush. Some of the crew that have known him longest will actively seek him out to consult on particularly difficult set/costume/makeup designs for scenes he’s in. He’ll almost always have a workaround, either for the problem itself or changing up his performance to make a different solution work. 

If it involves pyrotechnics, Katsuki is absolutely consulted for any movie he’s in. Not only does he know a lot about it, but he’ll bully the other actors (see: Izuku) into not being morons around fire.

For this imaginary movie, Uraraka is playing the role of the forced love interest. She and Izuku are trying their best but it’s just not happening. Meanwhile, Katsuki and Izuku have a ton of chemistry despite Izuku playing the hero and Katsuki playing the anti-hero (Or because of it). Currently there’s an ongoing fight between the director (Aizawa maybe) and the producers who are against any queer romance on screen.

Izuku and Katsuki hear about that, and the two of them talk about it and decide to do everything in their power to imply a relationship between their characters despite not being allowed to explicitly say it. It seems like the perfect plan.

Problem: Izuku is very gay & has had a crush on Katsuki since he was like 4. This was kinda of manageable when Katsuki was being a jerk/avoiding him on and off-screen. It is much, much worse now that on-screen Katsuki is going out of his way to be flirty/kind and off-screen Katsuki has chilled out a bit. His heart can’t take this.

As for the rest of the class:

- Uraraka & Iida are both actors playing the love interest and sidekick respectively.

- Sato is the head caterer & everyone’s favorite person pretty much.

- Kaminari is a lighting tech who works closely with Sero in rigging.

- Asui and Shinsou are both script supervisors.

- Momo heads up the set department, with Shoji and Ojiro working under her.

- Aoyama and Hagakure both work in make-up

- Tokoyami is in costuming and he’s very dramatic about everything all the time. He wears a bird-head mask everywhere and everyone has just accepted that’s his look.

- Koda is the head guy for animal handling. He’s just got a way with them.

- Shouto isn’t actually a part of the crew at all. Instead, Endeavor’s is on the company’s board of directors and is grooming him to take over that role. All Shouto’s older siblings were deemed unfit for the job by their father. Shouto was sent to observe the film production side of things as a training exercise. He still has his scar.

The league of villains in this AU wouldn’t be actual villains, but some of them play the villains in the film:

- Dabi was originally supposed to take over the company position. He and his father got into an argument, and he stormed off. As a result he got into an accident that gave him a lot of nasty scars. He got taken to a hospital and treated, but couldn’t be identified. When he finally woke up, he decided to run away. Since his parents never found out he was in the one in that accident, they didn’t recognize him when he started working as an actor. He plays one of the films villains, and took the role as a favor to his boyfriend. He didn’t know that his dad’s company was involved, and he had no fucking clue Shouto was going to be there. So for the entire time he’s trying to not get figured out by them.

- Tomura is Dabi’s boyfriend and playing the other villain in the series. He’s kinda a weird guy, but nice enough. His agent (All for One) makes everyone very uncomfortable though. The other issue is Tomura is really clumsy & breaks nearly everything he touches. He’s got coordination and balance issues which causes part of this, and the other part is just really bad luck.

- Toga and Magne both work in Makeup, Magne’s the head of the department & everyone loves her both for her astounding work and because she gives good life advice when you need it. Toga has weird vibes, but she’s absolutely amazing at what she does so, and like, she’s generally pretty nice too, so everyone just ignores the fact that sometimes the things she says implies she has killed someone and would do it again.

- Twice works in costuming, and even if his ideas are little sporadic and contrasting, he still does good work. Spinner works partially in costuming and partially in props.

- Mr. Compress heads up the props department. If you need something he has it. He seems to be able to make stuff appear from thin air, and he’s always carrying way more than you think he ought to be able to.

#bakudeku #film crew au #shigadabi #league of villains #dabi is touya #ronlett #katsuki bakugou #tomura shigaraki #dabi #midoriya izuku #class 1-a #shouto todoroki #endeavor #endeavor's a+ parenting #sif speaks #sif answers

[ohmytheon]

Karma in Retrograde (15)

title: Karma in Retrograde

summary: When Dabi is hit by a de-aging quirk, he’s turned back to a 16 year-old U.A. Gen Studies student with self-esteem and parent issues, a destructive quirk, and no memory of the last five years. To help the Dabi of the past, present, and future, he is placed with Class 1-A. There, they must all face the question of whether he can change or if his destiny is already set in stone.

– Chapter 15: Ryouta gets a new wardrobe thanks to Aizawa that causes various reactions and gets beat up by Mina. Sort of.

Lanni notes: One of my favorite things about Ryouta is that he's both somehow hyper-aware about some things and also completely oblivious to others. Also, his budding friendships with the others mean the world to me. He's got a different one with everyone and they're all changing. This is definitely a more slice of life chapter after the heaviness of the one before. A little lightness in this emotional rollercoaster. I was rolling while reading some of the parts that Misty wrote. This was freaking fun to write. The song for this chapter is an English rendition of Hey Kids!

Tonight they'll don their masks, the kids that tear it down. And all these scheming lies will soon evoke the end. Turn up the temperature, Entice that golden taste. Give it some flavor, flavor, flavor. Just wanna hold your hand.

After they returned to the dorms, Ryouta immediately excused himself to the relatively safe confines of his room. Shouto tried to appear impassive, but he got the feeling that his brother wanted more of an explanation. They’d thought he was dead. Had it been just the lack of contact? Had he started to give off behavior that suggested he might do something to himself? Those horrific scars and staples flashed in his mind. He had done something to himself. They wouldn’t have been far off to think that.

Finally alone in his room, Ryouta couldn’t help but feel a little, treacherously, relieved. Reuniting with Fuyumi hadn’t gone terribly. It looked like she wasn’t angry at him, didn’t even blame him for the things that she really should. (How like her.) That was more than he had dared to hope for. Something like that seemed like it should have made the overall situation easier to handle. Yet when he thought about sitting down to have a long, proper talk with his twin, the lump in his throat remained. Hurried goodbyes with her promising to return were emotional in their own bittersweet way, but they were nothing compared to the prospect of climbing the metaphorical mountain that was communication.

Perhaps it was cowardly of him to delay the inevitable so readily. He was fine with that. The day had been overwhelming as it was. He wouldn’t say it - he didn’t want them to think he was too emotionally fragile to handle it or was going to back out (as if he could) because he had hit some sort of invisible limit - but it had been a lot of talking. Genuine discussion. Everything seemed to pass by in a tired haze for the rest of the day, his mind still trying to process what had just happened. It was fortunate that nothing important happened, because even if a hurricane full of sharks spontaneously hit the school, he couldn’t guarantee that he would have been able to pay attention.

Aside from himself and Shouto making an attempt to talk about what had happened, floundering, giving up, and changing the subject and a few more taunts from Bakugou that had him considering just buying a hat and getting it over with, nothing truly significant happened the next day either. That suspicious calm was brought to a screeching halt when he was called to see Aizawa the next morning.

Ryouta approached Aizawa’s office with a nervous feeling in his gut. He tried to remember what he had done over the past several days, sibling stuff aside, in an effort to figure out if he had done something wrong. Not that it mattered if he found anything or not. His entire existence was wrong. Arguing with Bakugou and failing to complete all of his work with Iida at once, while bad, paled in face of the fact that, at the end of the day, he was a villain. The staff of U.A. didn’t need any further reason to get rid of him. Wracking his mind trying to think of something that may have pushed them over the edge was merely self-inflicted torture.

He felt the urge to delay upon Aizawa’s door entering his line of sight and immediately squashed it. Whatever lay ahead of him, he would face it head-on and accept it with as much grace as he could muster. It was the bare minimum. Rather than slow down, he increased his pace. A few seconds later, he announced his arrival with a single sharp rap of his knuckles against the wooden door.

“Come in,” Aizawa called. His voice gave nothing away. Ryouta tried not to read into it.

It felt like the doorknob should have given some hint as to the nature of the meeting. Instead, Ryouta wrapped his hand around the cold, meaningless steel, the same as always. He opened the door with a quick twist and stepped inside the room. The motion was made less fluid than it could have been by his proceeding to hover by the door. “Sir. You wanted to see me?” It felt like a stupid question to ask, yet he couldn’t think of anything better.

Aizawa nodded. He began to move as if looking around the room for something, only to pause, his gaze catching on Ryouta’s face. It was a struggle not to fidget under that scrutinizing gaze, made even worse by the teacher’s absurdly strong poker face. He tried to search his expression for signs of disappointment or anger and came up with nothing. After a few heavy seconds, that was finally changed by the slightest of downturns to the teacher’s lips. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

Ryouta shrugged. “Is it?” He tried to keep his voice steady - not too uncaring, not angry, frightened, or amused, and certainly not impudent. This time, he wasn’t trying to be sarcastic, but asking a genuine question. That didn’t mean that he wanted to sound desperate either.

That incalculable stare lingered for a few more seconds before Aizawa answered. “No, you’ve been doing well.”

The relief that came washing over him was almost strong enough to be tangible. It was accompanied by the sense of something warm buzzing in his chest. He was reluctant to call it pride, as not fucking things up (more than they already were) was a truly pathetic thing to be proud over, but he wasn’t displeased. More importantly, Aizawa wasn’t displeased. He said that he had been doing well, even with the incidents with Bakugou and Endeavor and the lesson and the general soul-crushing awkwardness. That was…good.

“Oh.” Although it was better than it had been a moment ago, Ryouta’s posture remained tense despite the good news. He forced himself to relax some more before walking across the room to sit in the chair in front of Aizawa’s desk. Hopefully, the action didn’t look as difficult as it felt. “What is it then?” He tried to ignore how much shorter he felt than the homeroom teacher sitting across from him.

A gaze as blank as Aizawa’s had no right to feel like it was staring into his soul. Yet, when the homeroom teacher opted to watch him for a moment longer before responding, he couldn’t shake the uncomfortable notion that it was doing exactly that. “You don’t have any clothes.” Immediately, impulsively, Ryouta glanced down at his dress shirt, which prompted Aizawa to add, “Of your own.” He did not look back up. Suddenly, that unreadable state didn’t sound so bad.

Ryouta tried to force down the embarrassment threatening to overtake him. Circumstances meant that he didn’t own anything of his own, but at least he could take some comfort in knowing that he hadn’t been asking for charity. Sure, it was stupid of him not to immediately realize what Aizawa was talking about, but it was too late for him to do anything about that. “Ah.” He slowly rolled his eyes upward and forced his gaze to drift back over to Aizawa, prompting him to continue the conversation like a normal, functional person who understood that there was no point in dwelling on minor slip-ups.

Rather than continue speaking, Aizawa reached under the desk. He retrieved a large plastic and unceremoniously plopped it between them. “You already have your uniform, but you need casual clothes. Tell me if I got the wrong size or there are any other problems.” With that, he gestured for him to take the bag.

It took a moment for Ryouta to spur himself into action. He stared at the bag and took care not to open his mouth until he knew what he was going to say. “Th-Thank you,” he eventually managed. That was a mistake. He snapped his jaw shut the moment he caught the stammer, his eyes briefly widening in a moment of raw mortification. Don’t get weird, he told himself. Be grateful, but don’t make him think you’ll expect more. “You didn’t-”

Aizawa cut him off with a dismissive snort. “Someone had to.” His tone came off as factual rather than accusational or pitying. Ryouta let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The hero gestured to the bag a second time. “Now, get going.”

“Right.” He reached out to take the bag, however, just as he began to lift it up by the plastic handles, he hesitated. “Thank you,” he repeated. This time, there was no stammer. The entirely unwarranted bubble of pride that threatened to well up over that was combated by his lingering shame over it having happened in the first place. Ryouta wisely opted not to tempt fate any further, finished removing the bag from the desk, and hastily returned to his room to inspect its bounty.

Besides being colors that he didn’t typically opt for, they looked like the right size and, more importantly, they looked comfortable. Ryouta had never taken fashion very seriously. As long as they fit him and he didn’t waste time pulling at them, clothes were clothes. He spent most of his time at U.A. in his uniforms. At home, shorts and a t-shirt was the best option. A lot of his clothing ended up burned or destroyed anyways, especially when he was forced into training with his father. He’d owned a few casual outfits, but nothing special. These would do.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he glanced at the clock and turned back to the bag of clothes. As soon as the time registered in his head, he snapped back to look again and swore, “Oh shit!” as he jumped to his feet. He’d gotten so distracted by his original panic over being called to Aizawa’s office and then the relief at not being in trouble that he’d completely forgotten that he was supposed to meet Uraraka and Midoriya at Gamma Gym. The speed in which he changed into his athletic uniform and shoved a change of clothes in the bag Yaoyorozu created for him would have impressed Iida.

Ryouta would confess to not being very strong and only fast in short bursts, having learned early on that dodging was easier than attacking, but he could run for long distances. He’d figured that out the hard way when his father had started his endurance training. By the time he made it to the gym, he was a little out of breath, bursting through the doors with, “Sorry I’m late!” before doubling over with his hands on his knees.

When he lifted his head, instead of being greeted by Midoriya and Uraraka, it was Mina and Uraraka who were currently stretching.

“Hey!” Mina called out, waving a hand. “We were wondering if you chickened out.”

“Uh, no, I just got distracted.”

Mina smiled. “I’m just teasing.”

Uraraka pulled herself to her feet and stretched her back one last time. “I hope you don’t mind that Mina joined us today. Deku had something come up.” She fist pumped Mina and the two girls laughed, the sign of an inside joke. Ryouta had never had one of those with any of his classmates. He’d had a few with Natsuo. In a way, now he was the inside joke of Class 1-A. “She knows how to kick more butt than Deku anyways.”

“No, yeah, that’s cool,” Ryouta quickly replied. “Cool, cool, cool.”

Setting his bag down next to theirs, he stretched and kept his attention elsewhere as the two girls talked. After learning more about hand-to-hand combat in the hero class, Ryouta had been forced to admit that he sucked at it. Aizawa had warned them that they needed to practice outside of class, but he also knew that he needed help. Since he’d been partnered with her in class and she was nice in a way that didn’t feel fake, Uraraka had been his safest bet. Midoriya had been with her at the time and had eagerly offered to help as well. Apparently, both of them had once been terrible at fighting.

Once he was done, Uraraka explained a few drills that she’d learned while interning with Gunhead. They were simple, but more interesting than Ryouta had expected. Endeavor had never focused on physical fighting during his training. It was all about strengthening and controlling his quirk. Ryouta’s quirk had to be stronger, faster, last longer, more focused. Everything else came second. It left him relying on his quirk more than anything else and put him at a disadvantage when he couldn’t even control the damn thing fully.

“I’ve learned more since then thanks to Kirishima and Mina,” Uraraka finished, “but I figured we could just start here and go from there.”

“And you’re sure this isn’t a waste of your time?” Ryouta asked again.

“Oh, it’s no problem!” Uraraka reassured him. “It’s good to review the basics every now and then to make sure my form is still good.”

Mina nudged her in the side. “Plus, she feels bad about kicking your ass so thoroughly in front of everyone.”

Ryouta shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not her fault that I never really learned how to fight.”

That seemed to catch their interest. He tried to smother a flicker of irritation. Throwing any sort of hints about what it was like for him growing up was a quick way to get questions that he had no intention of answering. He’d already let far too much slip when he’d been so tight-lipped before. Shouto must have been equally vague about his past or completely silent on the subject.

Everyone couldn’t help but wonder how the household of the then-number-two hero could produce an up-and-coming hero and a villain.

“Come to think of it,” Uraraka said slowly, “Todoroki relies mostly on his quirk too.”

“Who needs to fight when you’ve got all that power?” Ryouta lifted his hands, palms up, and gazed down at them. He didn’t call up his flames like he wanted to out of concern that it might make them uneasy. It was easy enough to picture them though. When he dropped his hands and looked back to them, their eyes flickered up to his and he knew that they’d been thinking about his quirk as well. He coughed. “You two ready to show me the ropes?”

Uraraka formed her hands into fists and gave him a confident smile. “We could do some drills and work on your form and then see how you use them against an opponent. Drills aren’t worth anything if you forget all of it once you’re in a fight.”

“Better give it your all,” Mina told him as she punched the air playfully. “I won’t go easy on you.”

Well, this was going to be interesting. He was taller than both girls but had no doubts that they could take him on. He had to be stronger - he’d started to gain actual muscle when he was thirteen - but they were better at this than him. The idea of a fist fight was so beyond him that he’d never thought to practice hand-to-hand combat until that class. He didn’t have a quirk meant for punching. That said, it was starting to occur to him that there were ways to use his quirk that he’d never considered before either.

Learning the drills themselves wasn’t that difficult. Ryouta worked on his stance, which would ground him better and keep him from getting tossed around as easily. Next, he practiced different kinds of punches before adding on dodging until it built into something along the lines of a violent dance move. They went at it like that for a while, working up a sweat. It wasn’t that difficult for him to do, as his temperature ran hot due to the nature of his quirk, but even the girls got really into it.

At first, when he’d realized that it was Uraraka and Mina, he had worried that he’d be too self-conscious. However, they were so laser-focused on what they were doing that he fell into it as well. It reminded him of when he and Fuyumi would get sucked into a book and lose hours together. Before he knew it, nearly an hour had passed and he knew a lot more than he had when they started. It wasn’t a lot, seeing as how he couldn’t learn everything there was about fighting in an hour, but it was a start. Aizawa would at least be able to see that he had put in the extra effort to catch up.

“Do you think you’re ready to put what you’ve learned so far into practice?” Uraraka asked.

Ryouta wiped the sweat off his face as best as he could and glanced over at Mina, who was lightly bouncing on the balls of her feet, like she wasn’t tired at all. He was definitely feeling the burn of his muscles and the first hints of being worn out. Still, he knew that he could last a long time. The kids in the hero course had endurance that would put most of the world to shame, but he’d learned to run on fumes years ago. He could burn and burn until there was nothing left in the tank and still keep on pushing.

“Sure,” he finally responded. He took a swig from his water bottle and tossed it back into his bag before languidly getting into a stance. Staring back at Mina, every inch of his body was screaming to tense up, but he kept himself relaxed, conserving his energy. If he lasted longer than five seconds, he’d be happy. Uraraka had done her best to teach him a few moves, but it would be different using them against an opponent that was actively fighting back and moving fast.

Despite the fact that she was about to kick his ass (or perhaps because of it), Mina wore quite a cheerful expression. She moved first, rushing forward and reaching to snatch him by the wrist. Fuck, she was quick. Ryouta fell back into his usual routine of dodging out of habit, sliding out of her reach. He slammed his right foot down behind him to strengthen his footing and then swung a left hook. She dodged it by twisting to the side, his fist sailing past her head uselessly, and then landed a precise hit in his side that forced him to stumble back.

“Gotcha!” Mina laughed.

“You left yourself wide open when you tried to attack,” Uraraka pointed out

Doubled over with a hand on his side, Ryouta managed to say, “I noticed.” When he stood up straight, his ribs stung, but it wasn’t terrible. He had a feeling that Mina hadn’t hit him as hard as she could even though she had said that she wouldn’t go easy on him. He would’ve really been bruised if she had. Still, despite being hit, he wasn’t mad or upset. In fact, as adrenaline seeped into his veins, he felt kind of, well, excited. Neither one of them were acting afraid of him and were actively encouraging him.

This time, Ryouta moved to attack first. Mina easily dodged his first attempt to hit her and then blocked his next attack. When she attacked, he blocked the first punch, but then caught her second with his hand, just as he’d done with Bakugou. It was a hard punch, but compared to a punch powered by an explosion, it only stung a little. He hooked a foot behind her ankle and shoved hard, tripping her and knocking her off balance. The thought that he didn’t want to actually hit her flashed in his mind, but then that was the whole point what they were doing here. She’d taken harder hits than he could manage with his fist alone.

Before he could follow through with a takedown, Mina used her momentum to do a backflip, using one hand on the ground to spring back onto her feet. The move was so graceful that Ryouta could’ve almost believed that it had been planned from the start. He inadvertently paused to gawk for a few seconds. There was no way in hell that he could manage a flip at this point. The mere idea of gymnastics made his mind attempt to jump through hoops.

She didn’t give him any time to recover from his shock, getting in a quick jab against his chest. When she went to hit him again, he snatched her by the wrist and pulled on her hard so that he could get her in a semblance of a hold, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He was stronger than her, judging from the way she jerked against his grip. His brief moment of pride was cut off when she hooked her foot around his ankle and kicked out, knocking his feet out from underneath him. Both of them fell backward and he hit the ground hard with her landing on top of him. It knocked the air out of his lungs and he loosened his grip on her enough for her to slip out. Before he knew it, she had him flipped on his stomach and an arm pinned behind his back.

Breathing heavily, Mina asked, “You give?” She was breathless, probably from the rough landing. He wasn’t exactly good cushion material.

With his face pressed against the mat and his arm pinned high enough to be just shy of being painful, Ryouta nodded his head and gound out, “Can’t really breathe.” Satisfied with his answer, Mina let go of his arm and rolled off of him so she could flop onto the mat. Ryouta rolled onto his back and sucked in a gasp of air as his lungs began to cooperate with him again. He took a few seconds to breathe before pointing out, “You didn’t go all out on me.”

“No,” Mina admitted, “but you wouldn’t be able to learn if I just floored you in a few seconds.”

“It felt like it was only a few seconds.”

“You did good,” Mina told him. Uraraka came over and helped her back to her feet as Ryouta sat up. When Mina held a hand out to him to do the same, he waved dismissively and pushed himself to his feet. It struck him that his refusal might’ve come off as rude, but brushing off help had been ingrained in him. It had taken him a while to accept Fuyumi’s help with changing his bandages, but it had made it a lot easier when he had.

“I did better than in class, at least,” Ryouta conceded, rubbing his lower back. Even though he’d landed on the mat, it had been more painful than the punches she’d landed on him.

Uraraka glanced at her phone and groaned. “Ugh, it’s almost time for dinner.”

“Ugh?” Mina questioned. “You love food.”

“I know,” Uraraka complained, “but Iida, Deku, and I are having a study session during it for Present Mic’s exam.”

Ryouta picked up his gym bag and started for the locker rooms. “Good luck with that.”

“You’re so lucky that you don’t have to take it,” Uraraka said as she and Mina did the same.

“That’s because I’ve done it already,” Ryouta pointed out. Seeing as how he’d finished his first year at U.A. and had been a month into his second, it had been decided that he wouldn’t have to take the final exams for the regular classes. He was already repeating being sixteen; he didn’t need to repeat his first year too. It gave him time to work on the hero course, which he was severely behind on.

They split up at the locker rooms, Ryouta going to the boys’ side. He took a quick, hot shower, the warm water soothing his muscles. This training felt different from his quirk training. He was tired and sore, but not worn thin and beaten up. Where he’d puked plenty of times and felt weak, he now felt hungry and ready for dinner. All in all, he felt good. Yeah, he was still leagues behind them in terms of combat, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was actually improving. He was changing. It felt good.

Having clothes that he could call his own was nice too. He didn’t mind wearing Shouto’s old clothes, but it was weird having to borrow clothes from his little brother. After putting on the outfit he’d gotten from the bag of clothes Aizawa had given him, he toweled his hair dry and walked back out to the gym where Mina and Uraraka were already waiting on him.

“You rea-?” Uraraka cut off the second she raised her eyes from her cell to him. They widened briefly before she furrowed her brow and bit her lip, looking like she was trying not to make a face. “Oh, um, new clothes?”

Ryouta hiked the strap of his bag further on his shoulder. “Yeah, Aizawa gave me some clothes so I don’t have to keep borrowing stuff.” He tugged on the hem of his shirt. “I mean, I usually don’t go for things this colorful, but it’s whatever. They’re not bad.”

Mina’s mouth was open as she stared at him, but strangely, she looked positively delighted. “Aizawa picked out those clothes?”

“Maybe?” Ryouta hadn’t really considered it. Getting handed a bag of clothes, having some small detail about him noticed, had combined with the fear that he’d done something wrong and forgotten to make a powerful distraction. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. They’re probably from a bargain store, but that’s fine with me.”

“And you like that outfit?” Mina asked.

“It looks fine to me. Doesn’t really matter. Clothes are clothes. All that matters is that they fit and are comfortable.” Ryouta looked at the two girls, self-consciousness creeping up on him. “Why? Is it…? Does it look bad?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his discomfort becoming stronger by the second. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing!” Uraraka quickly replied. “I mean, well, it’s just, um...a different look.”

Ryouta frowned. “Different good or different bad?”

“Just different,” Uraraka told him. There was a smile on her face, but it looked tense.

“Hey, it’s free clothes,” Ryouta said. Uraraka bobbed her head in understanding. She’d talked about her financial difficulties, so she of all people would be able to understand. “I can’t complain.”

Mina clapped her hands together, a bright smile on her face and still utterly delighted. “I think it looks fabulous.” Ryouta’s cheeks warmed. He didn’t even know how to respond to that. Fabulous was not a word he would have ever thought to use to describe himself. Was she being sarcastic? No, she looked and sounded genuine, which was weird. “But a few people might say something else about it.”

Rolling his eyes and starting for the door, Ryouta said, “If you’re referring to Bakugou, I don’t care. He’s going to say something no matter what I wear. It’s not a big deal.”

It really wasn’t. To be honest, over the past few days, Bakugou had been kind of tame. The coming final exams had proven to be a great distraction as they were more worthy of his time than insulting Ryouta. It was strange, but he’d noticed that, despite coming off as a hothead ready to fly off the handle, Bakugou was really serious about school and his work. Iida had told him that he was third in the class. It was surprising. His tormentor was kind of...a nerd. It had started to change Ryouta’s view of him. This kid truly wanted to be a hero.

“I still wish he wasn’t so mean, but, you know, he has a hard time letting things go,” Mina said, the smile fading from her face, as she walked at his right.

“He doesn’t have to,” Ryouta pointed out. “I’m fine with him hating me.”

“I don’t think he hates you,” Uraraka mused, which made Ryouta snort. He was pretty sure on a scale of one to ten on how much Bakugou hated him, he was at a solid thirteen. “He hates looking weak and you - well, Dabi - made him feel it. I know it sounds weird, but as awful as the whole kidnapping was, he’s becoming a better hero for it. I mean, he’s even starting to get past his issues with Deku.” She shook her head as they stepped outside. “Not that it was a good thing at all! It just made us all think about what we’re doing here and what kind of heroes we want to become.”

“And he’s gotten a lot better,” Mina added. “He can be kind of an ass. He still calls me as Raccoon Eyes sometimes when he’s in a bad mood.”

“But you don’t have raccoon eyes,” Ryouta interjected.

Mina smiled. “It doesn’t bother me. He’s given dumb nicknames for everyone. It’s like this thing.” She looked over to her right at Uraraka. “What did he call you?”

Uraraka blew a raspberry. “Round Face.”

“That is dumb,” Ryouta said with a snort.

“The thing is, all his...Bakugou-ness aside, he’s one of my good friends,” Mina continued. A mischievous glint that instantly made Ryouta wary appeared in her golden eyes. “But sometimes I think it’d be funny to give him a taste of his own medicine. We play pranks on each other all the time, but never as much with Bakugou. It’d be nice to really pull one over him.”

“You’re flirting with danger, girl,” Uraraka joked.

Mina winked. “What’s wrong with a little danger?”

“Most people try to stay away from it,” Ryouta said.

“Do I look like most people?” Mina laughed and Uraraka giggled with her.

“Uh, no? Most people aren’t pink.” Ryouta wasn’t exactly sure what kind of response she had been expecting, but apparently, his was good enough as the two girls laughed again. Even though he wasn’t a part of their group and he couldn’t exactly consider them friends, seeing as how he’d been stuck with them by force, it was nice of them to make him feel included. He still felt like he was on the outside - he didn’t know if he would ever be able to feel any different - but it wasn’t so bad. Neither Uraraka nor Mina had to come to the gym with him today, but they’d done it. They must’ve taken Iida’s declaration to heart.

That thought lead to another surprising, but not upsetting, one. Aside from Uraraka’s reaction to his outfit, which was another matter entirely, they hadn’t seemed particularly uncomfortable around him either. While it was true that they could have just gotten better at hiding their discomfort, that just signified more effort to make him feel welcome. Ryouta didn’t know if he should feel touched by the kindness or guilty about the inconvenience. He settled for glancing down at his feet and trying to find something else to think of as a compromise.

His solution came to him as he turned the corner into the common room. Granted, it wasn’t necessarily the one he wanted, but it certainly distracted him from any ill-fated attempts to figure out his companions. They were immediately greeted by a choking, wheezing sound. On a couch sat Midoriya, a cup of water which he had apparently partially inhaled in one hand, the other covering his mouth as he stared at Ryouta. Beside him was Iida, who, despite firmly pounding his choking friend on the back and continuously asking if he was okay or needed medical attention, also kept glancing at him.

The worst, by far, was Shouto. He all but jumped out of his seat and eyed him for a heartbeat before scrubbing his eyes with a hand and groaning. “I’d forgotten about this,” he grumbled.

Those words broke the stunned silence that the reaction to their arrival had generated. “Forgotten about what?” Ryouta asked. His brother lowered his hand and eyed the ceiling, looking for all the world like he didn’t want to be the one to explain.

Since Midoriya had stopped choking, Iida decided to lift the burden from his shoulders. He shot up like a springboard before starting to speak. “I am not admonishing you as you are not violating any dress codes or offending anyone. We were merely caught off guard. I, at least, did not expect you to enjoy…” Iida paused the chopping gestured his hands had begun making for a moment to stare at his shirt. “Kawaii. ”

He heard a small noise from Uraraka, followed by a gentle slap as she pressed her hand against her mouth. Mina reached forward to pat him on the shoulder. “Aizawa gave him some clothes,” she said, the earlier glee still lingering in her tone.

“Of course,” Iida said, although the soft wheeze that emitted from the still red-faced Midoriya signified that ‘of course’ may not have been the best choice of words. “I’m sorry! I did not mean to imply that they are bad! The… contrast of the bold colors and pastels…”

Ryouta tuned him out and looked down at his clothes. He wore a diagonally striped blue open-front shirt with pale yellow cuffs and, underneath that, a hot pink u-neck with a print of a yellow cat and the word ‘kawaii’ (or he thought it was meant to say ‘kawaii’, as it was written in english and had come out as ‘hawaii’ instead) with a claw-mark through it. His pants were a fairly bright pastel orange and his shoes simple black flip-flops. All in all, it was a comfortable ensemble that served its purpose.

“I think it’s fine,” he said. Even so, he could feel his self-consciousness begin to well up again, along with the feeling that he was repeating himself and would be for a while.

“That’s what I forgot,” Shouto murmured. Ryouta turned to glower at his brother, only to pause when he saw the faint signs of amusement on his face. Oh. The simultaneously alien and precious notion that his brother may be trying to playfully tease him wasn’t one that he knew how to respond to. He remembered such behavior from Natsu, but not as much from Shouto. Especially not this Shouto. His mind felt caught up trying to process the fact that it was somehow happening.

He was promptly reminded that the rest of the world did, in fact, exist, by Midoriya finding his voice. “I was a little surprised, but I don’t think there’s necessarily anything wrong with it,” he said. “If you’re comfortable, you should wear it! Right, guys?” Midoriya flashed Ryouta an encouraging smile before turning it to everyone else in the room. He was met by a somewhat reluctant chorus of agreement and somewhat uncomfortable smiles.

There was definitely something off that he wasn’t catching onto. Even so, he nodded decisively and said, “Thank you, Midoriya. You have a decent sense of style, so I trust you.” Midoriya visibly brightened at that, although he could swear that he saw Uraraka struggling not to cringe out of the corner of his eye. He would have shot her a confused look if he wasn’t afraid of drawing his attention to it. Was something wrong with Midoriya’sclothes? He’d liked most of his outfits so far, his ‘shirt’ shirts were really funny, although his shoes were vaguely familiar in an unsettling way.

“There really isn’t anything wrong,” Mina piped up. ‘No matter what some people say,’ while left unsaid, was communicated easily through the encouraging look she shot him. “I really like the shir-”

“Oh.”

The sudden interruption drew Ryouta’s gaze back to the hallway, where Yaoyorozu Momo stood, staring at him, as seemed to be the trend for the afternoon. Her expression, however, was one of solid dismay, her hand held up to her mouth and her eyes wide in horror. It faltered as agitation flickered across her features before finally being replaced by something harder.

She marched into the room and began to speak in a voice that, for all its gentleness, held an unwavering undertone of firmness. “I don’t know who did this, but I expected better of my classmates. You know how we’re supposed to behave. This is…” she shook her head, looking almost disgusted. By the time she came to a stop in front of Ryouta, he was already very confused. What she said next did not help. “Ryouta, if you tell me who-”

“Aizawa, apparently,” Shouto interrupted. He probably imagined it, but it sounded like his brother was tempted to laugh.

The color began to leave Yaoyorozu’s face in short order. “ Oh,” she repeated. This time, the word was swimming in shame, although there was also a fair amount of lingering horror as well. She took a few steps back and looked at the wall, ceiling, floor - anywhere but Ryouta’s face. That was when it clicked.

“Did you think I was pranked?” he asked incredulously. Yaoyorozu’s head drooped and the guilt in her expression intensified, which immediately made him regret his words. The Yaoyorozu family was pretty rich. He supposed it wasn’t too ridiculous for her not to understand things like thriftiness and think that giving people brightly colored outfits was a cruel prank. She didn’t mean anything by it at the very least. He opened his mouth to apologize, only for another new arrival, doubtlessly attracted by the slowly rising clamor, to make her presence known before he could speak.

“What’s going on?” Asui said, her brows furrowed and head tilted slightly.

“Ryouta’s bad fashion sense almost killed Midoriya,” Shouto said.  Ryouta immediately snapped his head around to glower at him. His voice was a perfect deadpan, but this time, there was no mistaking it. That absolute little shit was definitely laughing.

“Now you’re just being an ass,” he snapped. His voice wavered as he spoke. It wasn’t a bad waver. Although it was beginning to look like he was going to have to repeat himself until everyone had seen him and knew how he got his clothes, which was undeniably irritating, and didn’t like how people kept looking at him yet refused to explain what was wrong, it didn’t feel bad. Despite seeming like it should do the opposite, Shouto’s apparent amusement in the situation was making his self-consciousness slowly melt away. It looked like he might be aware of it to some degree as well.

Shouto looked him in the eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Someone has to tell you the truth.” This time, Uraraka wasn’t able to keep herself from letting out a small snicker. He heard a small ‘thwack’ as Mina smacked her on the arm, which, despite a choked attempt to apologize, only made her laugh harder. Somewhere in the midst of this, Asui gave a neutral, “I see.”

Ryouta rolled his eyes and huffed before looking back at Yaoyorozu. She still looked guilty and was fiddling with her hands. He also noticed that Iida was sitting stiffly and had a blush lingering on his face, likely admonishing himself over something or other. Midoriya kept shooting him concerned glances. “None of you did anything wrong,” Ryouta assured them. “I guess I just… don’t care about clothes that much.”

Naturally, that was when Bakugou showed up.

“Holy fucking shit!” he exclaimed before falling into a fit of laughter that seemed to startle everyone just as much as his choice of clothing had. He had both hands over his mouth in an attempt to muffle his guffaws and was doubled over, as if he physically couldn’t stand straight. His face was even turning red as he tried to restrain himself. His laughter was the only thing to be heard, everyone else having gone very silent with various unsettled looks on their faces. Ryouta wore a blank expression as he watched Bakugou with a completely unimpressed stare.

Midoriya nervously glanced at Shouto and then Uraraka before venturing, “Are...are you okay, Kacchan?”

“Okay?” Bakugou shot back in between laughs. “ Okay? Shut the fuck up, Deku, this is…” He finally stopped laughing, but was forced to refrain from speaking so he could take a few breaths. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Sighting, Ryouta repeated himself for what felt like the hundredth time, “Aizawa got me some clothes of my own.”

“You’re telling me that our homeroom teacher, pro hero Eraserhead, who once expelled an entire hero class, went out and bought you clothes” - Bakugou pointed an accusing finger at him - “and he bought you that? And you just wore it without complaint?”

“I highly doubt that he bought them himself,” Ryouta replied defensively, folding his arms across his chest. Surely he had better things to do. Then again, it made him wonder who had bought them. Maybe he’d just asked for donations and people had put clothes they no longer wore in the bag. It would explain the random variety of colors and styles. “And why wouldn’t I? I’m not a complete jackass. You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. They fit. They’re comfortable. They fulfill their function. They’re clothes. What else is there, Saggy Bottoms?”

The muscle by Bakugou’s right eye twitched, probably at the nickname, but at least he was confident enough in himself to not immediately pull his pants up. He did sag his pants a ridiculous amount. In the back of his mind, Ryouta knew that he’d pick at his clothes later, trying to figure out exactly what was wrong with them, but he was resisting out of sheer stubbornness for now.

“I don’t know,” Bakugou finally replied, still sounding incredulous. “Maybe that they look good and not like you dropped acid and went shopping in the kid’s section?”

“They’re not that bad,” Mina jumped in.

Bakugou shook his head. “No, no, don’t defend this disaster just because you like bright colors.”

“And Aizawa was the one that got them, so this is really on him,” Uraraka added.

“Maybe so,” Bakugou said, like that was a door he would open on another day. “But Dabi over here willingly put them on and thinks it’s perfectly fine.” He started to snort as he tried to resist the urge to start laughing again. “He looks like he’s going to a rave. At least it matches his hair.”

At that moment, Kirishima walked in with Kaminari behind him. The first thing he noticed as Bakugou laughing. “What’s go-?” His eyes landed on Ryouta and widened. “Whoa, um, wow, okay I was not expecting this.”

“Can you believe that the guy wearing this outfit grows up to kidnap me?” While Bakugou cooled down, everyone else wore distinctly uncomfortable looks. Uraraka shifted on her feet. Deku coughed. Shouto glowered in that way that made the room drop a degree. No one said anything though and Ryouta could understand why. It was up to Bakugou how he dealt with that part of his past. If he chose to be glib about it for whatever reason, they would let him do it. No one had the right to take that choice away from him. “I’m honestly kind of pissed, now that I think about it. How the hell could I have ever been-?” He cut himself off and narrowed his eyes. “Whatever. That’s tacky.”

What was it that Uraraka had said about Bakugou? That he hated looking weak and Dabi had made him feel that way? There was no way in hell he was going to admit that in front of everyone. Ryouta would’ve done the same thing as him: denied any sort of weakness or fear until he died or maybe even taken it to his grave. Having information pried out of him that he’d never willingly given away before was already awkward enough.

“Dude,” Kaminari said, his face filled with as much delight and mirth as Mina’s had been. “That outfit is electric!”

“No!” Bakugou shouted, letting off a mini explosion in his palm, to which Kaminari just laughed.

Kirishima shrugged his shoulders, by far the most neutral out of all of them, although he still looked surprised. “I don’t know, man. I mean, that outfit is, uh, loud, but if you feel comfortable wearing it and don’t care what anyone else thinks, that’s pretty manly.”

“No,” Bakugou said again, much more emphatically, “no, no. You do not get an opinion in this.” He pointed down at Kirishima’s shoes, which were unmistakably crocs. Ryouta raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t realized that people still wore those. “Not when you refuse to throw those things away.”

“You’re just jealous that you can’t rock them,” Kirishima retorted.

“Just leave them both be, Bakugou,” Mina said in a dismissive tone. She really wasn’t phased by him at all, talking to him like she would anyone else. “At least we don’t wear different versions of the same shirt practically every day.”

Ryouta eyed the other boy. “Now that I think about it, do you own any t-shirts that aren’t black with a skull on it?”

Bakugou glared at him. If it was possible for steam to come out of a person’s ears like in cartoons, Ryouta was fairly certain he would be doing that right now. “I’d rather do that than wear an outfit you could see from space.” He stood up straight and swept the room with a glare that dared anyone to protest. “I’ll be in my dorm giving my eyes a break from this. Thanks for making my week brighter.” And with that, he stomped to his dorm, leaving everyone confused about how to feel.

Well, in a sense, that was the most positive interaction that Ryouta had ever had with Bakugou, so he couldn’t exactly be mad about it. Yeah, he was a little disgruntled, but he was mostly feeling awkward about being the center of attention for so long. Was he going to have to do some sort of fashion show for the class so they could get whatever this was out of their systems? He was not doing that, but if they had this reaction every time it put on a new outfit, it would get old fast.

Mina laying a hand on his arm nearly made Ryouta jump out of his flip-flops. She pulled it away so fast that it was almost like he’d only imagined her touching him. “You okay?”

Ryouta blinked. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” For once, he wasn’t lying. He glanced at Shouto, who had eased up again now that Bakugou was out of the room. Every time the two of them were near each other, his brother would tense up, as if he had to remain vigilant in case a fight broke out, even if it was somewhere as mundane as the bathrooms in the morning while brushing their teeth. “It’s not a big deal, really.”

Around them, everyone began to disperse again. Uraraka had meandered over to the couch to sit with Iida and Midoriya, probably to start their study session. Kirishima and Kaminari had gone to the kitchen. Yaoyorozu moved to speak with Shouto about something, distracting him and leaving Ryouta with just Mina.

“You sure?” she asked.

“Yeah. If it’s not my hair, it’s my clothes,” Ryouta said, “but honestly, it’s a lot better than what it could be. I’m, you know…”

Bakugou could pick on him for a lot worse things than his looks. There was the fact that he was a villain. That would have gotten under his skin a lot more. He didn’t like it when Bakugou referred to him as Dabi, but that was the name he knew him by from back then. It was a name that he had apparently chosen for himself. What a shit ass name.

Ryouta shrugged his shoulders and added, “Like you said, it’d be nice to pull one over him so he knows what it’s like, but it’s not like I can do anything.”

Mina grinned and he couldn’t help but notice that that devious glimmer was back and stronger than ever. “I have an idea.”

@mistystarshine notes: Agreed that this was a fun chapter to write! As I read Lanni's chunks, I. Was. Howling. Of course, the story wouldn't be half as much fun without you readers. We're almost at a thousand kudos, which... holy cow! I love you guys so much!

Now we get to the fun part of my notes. We have fanart! The first piece is directly linked to this chapter. Have a reference of Ryouta in his horrible outfit, made by the wonderful @ccyans! You should also admire this titan of pastels for designing the outfit. We just put the vision into words.

Next, we have some memes by @wellthengetouttathesoupaisle! They were inspired by discord shenanigans, but believe me when I say that you don't need context to enjoy them.

Finally, we have been blessed with some ship art by Pseudowinner! Would you believe me if I said that Lanni and I didn't drop any spoilers for this chapter? (Aside from asking Ccyans for permission to use the wonder outfit, of course!) Getting this right before a chapter with so much interaction between them made me grin.

To anyone who's interested and didn't catch it before, you can find the discord here! We'd love to have you!

#dabi #dabi is a todoroki #bnha #aizawa shouta #katsuki bakugou #mina ashido #ochako uraraka #izuku midoriya #tenya iida #momo yaoyorozu #ejirou kirishima #denki kaminari #mha #boku no hero academia #dabi fic #my hero academia #ryouta is a hot mess lmao #look he made bakugou laugh #the things of songs

[noirlevity]

                                                             241

a03 ; Tododeku

I love you with a fire, Ablazing till times end But what good is a heart When it shudders to speak. I guess it's too late now.

Being with people feels like taking a dip in the ocean. It‘s hard to breathe. When he starts to feel uncomfortable, he feels like he‘s drowning so his body begins to struggle. Running away was always the choice. But it wasn‘t always the right choice. There are things that you can‘t escape from, no matter how much you try. And for Shouto, it was always this .

They ask the same question. Over and over again. The same question that he is already tired of answering.

“Have you ever been in love Todoroki-kun?”

When he is asked about this, there is only one thing that comes to mind. It always makes him feel uncomfortable and exposed. He begins to shift in place. Being reminded of something that you try your best to forget may trigger a deluge; a domino effect that comes after a mistake, destroying everything you‘ve built up until now.

Despite this, he still answers and ignores the throbbing in his chest.

“No. Never.” He lies. The others stare at him in awe as he bashfully shifts his eyes towards the entrance. He hears something that was close to a scream rather than a cheer. And that‘s when he knew.

He was there.

Shouto has always felt this feeling whenever he walks into the room.

“Oh it‘s Deku-kun!”

Midoriya. He mumbles. His heartbeats were loud enough to make him worry someone will hear it. He follows Izuku with his eyes. It‘s been a long time since they saw each other. Izuku spots him and waves. It took everything he got to stay collected. As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and no truer words were spoken. Shouto looks away slightly flustered. His heart felt soft at the sight of that smile he dearly loved.

When did it start? This softness in his chest whenever he sees Izuku? He doesn‘t remember. It‘s been a while since they graduated and became heroes. He always thought that this feeling would leave him once they part ways, but he still gives him butterflies whenever they see each other like this.

It was enough being by his side. Shouto did not want to be anything more than a friend. That‘s what he always told himself. Holding back wasn’t easy though. When you fall, you fall hard. That’s why, it wasn‘t easy to stop himself from falling for Izuku. It wasn‘t easy holding himself back from telling him how much he cared for him whenever they were alone.

When he realized he was in love, he couldn‘t sleep. He always thought about why in the world he harbored such feelings for his friend. It started at their sports festival. The feelings at this point was just a seed. Then it grew into a sprout. Finally, it bloomed and stayed with him. Izuku slowly made his way into his heart and made him experience something that he believed people only experience once in a lifetime.

“You inspire me.” He once told Izuku. It was still true. He thinks that‘s probably the reason why he couldn‘t stop himself from loving him. And maybe that‘s the wonderful thing about being in love, even though it hurts not being able to tell him what he truly feels.

Izuku comes up to him, and it feels like everything just disappeared and there was only the two of them in the room. He sees him move in slow motion. It was as if he was just a dream come true. When he‘s finally beside him, the other fists bumps him on the shoulder. He feels an electric shock like the one he felt when Izuku held his hand. The touch made him remember the feeling of wanting to hold the other‘s hand forever even if it meant he was just fooling himself.

“It’s been a long time since we saw each other, Todoroki-kun.”

“Yeah.” Shouto replies bashfully.

Asui stares at them with a knowing look. Iida and Uraraka appear, holding each other‘s hands, greeting them both excitedly. Izuku turns to talk to them, leaving Shouto alone. Shouto stays and listens to their conversation, then leaves quietly to escape.

---

Shouto sat alone in the corner while the others were goofing around. Someone sits heavily beside him. He looks up and sees it is Izuku. Izuku smiles widely at him. His face is red. Clearly, he drank too much.

“Whats up Todoroki-kun?” Izuku slurs.

Shouto mumbles something and it makes Izuku laugh heartily. Shouto never saw him like this before.

“Are you okay?” Shouto asks worried.

“Of course I am~“

Shouto stares at Izuku.

“You don't look okay to me.”

Shouto always knows when Izuku is feeling down. He always knows  when he is hurting.

Trembling, Izuku throws his head back and slumps on the coach. He bats his lazy eyes and clenches his hand. He is exerting too much force. It is hard to believe Shouto still has the knack of figuring out his feelings.

Shouto has the urge to hold it to make him feel better.  But the way Izuku looks at him stopped him. It reminded him of his place. He wishes if only it were him. If only he were Izuku’s number one. The one he is in love with.

As he gazes at his friend, he is reminded that no matter how much you love a person, the intensity of that love is never an assurance of your love to be returned. Shouto looks away. He doesn't hold Izuku’s hand even though he really wants to.

“Did  you have a fight with Bakugou again?”

Izuku chokes on  his beer.

Shouto gives Izuku a knowing look and flashes him a slight smile.

In response, Izuku sighs and smiles back, the smile he gives Shouto when he is sad about something. That look makes Shouto want to hold him in his arms.

“Our relationship was bound to fail from the start.

“It was a miracle that he… Kaachan.. you know, asked me out despite everything we've been through.”

“So that's why he didn't come today?”

“Kirishima said he had something to take care of.”

Shouto searches for Kirishima in the crowd and sees the other cheerfully talking with Ashido and Sero.

“Kirishima hasn't change a bit.”

“Yeah. He is still the only one who can take Kaachan.”

“Isn't it fine though?”

“What?”

Shouto looks at his lap and plays with his fingers.

“That.. Maybe you two just need some time to think things through.”

Izuku frowns; he looks like he was about to cry. Shouto notices this, so he stands and looks back at his friend.

“You want to go outside to get some fresh air?”

.

.

.

Once they step outside, the sound inside is muted. Silence reign supreme. The two stare at the night sky, feeling the cold breeze on their skins. Shouto wasn’t expecting Izuku was carrying an emotional burden while flashing a smile to the whole world. It makes him a little bit sad too.

Izuku remembers the time when he and Shouto were gazing at the stars just like this. He realizes that he’s always felt comfortable around Shouto. Being with him makes him feel relaxed.

Turning to Shouto, he notices the other’s hair flutter in the wind. It was soft and unyielding.

Noticing Izuku was staring at him, Shouto also turns to his companion and gazes into his eyes. Izuku finds that the other‘s eyes were as enchanting as he remembered them. The freckles on Izuku’s face were still one of the things that Shouto likes about him. He moves close to him, but not too close. It would be nice if they could see each other this often, he thinks. The messages and calls they sometimes exchange were never enough to compensate for the other’s presence.

“Im glad that I came here.” Izuku breaks the ice.

“I wasn't planning on going to be honest…” Izuku trails off as he scratched the side of his face with his index finger.

“Me too. Im glad that I came.” Shouto smiles. Izuku's eyes widen. He is reminded of how kind and gentle Shouto really is.

“Ah, the person who you’ll fall in love with will surely be lucky Todoroki-kun.”

Shouto looks away with a slight frown. He gazes down.

There was a pause and slight change of mood.

“I don't know.”

Izuku is surprised.

“I cant even make them choose me.”

Izuku ears perk up.

“I can’t even tell them how I truly feel.” Shouto smiles.

“It’s too late for me. Midoriya.”

“What do you...”

“Hey guys!” Kirishima shouts, Denki and Iida burst into the veranda.  

“We all have to sing at least one piece tonight! It's unfair  if the two of you wont join!”

“Yes that is right!” Iida agrees, nodding feverishly.

Izuku and Todoroki kun look at each other and laugh.

---

Izuku is really bothered by what Shouto said to him.

“I cant even make them choose me?”  

“It’s too late for me. Midoriya.”

So he's in love? I wonder with whom?

He was asked before if he was in a relationship or if he was in love and he said never.

Who‘s the lucky person?

Izuku turns to Iida and was itching to ask him if he had an idea. He tries to stop himself. Such an information is too private for him to pry into. But who could it be? Izuku searches the crowd. Even though they were friends, he knows nothing much about Shouto’s private life.

Distracted. Izuku didn't notice that while he was thinking of such things, he was also drinking alcohol.

----

The scent that tickled his sense of smell was sweet and nice; gentle and adult-like. Izuku opened his eyes slowly. He bats his eyes and wakes up with a start when he realizes something odd.

“You're awake.”

Izuku panics.

“Where am I?”

When he realizes that Shouto was carrying him, he turns pale.

“You… you don’t need to carry me on your back Todoroki-kun!” Izuku says embarrassed.

“It’s fine. You fell unconscious. I volunteered to take you home since everyone still wanted to have fun.”

“Please put me down. I think I can walk by myself.”

“It’s fine. I’ll carry you.”

When did Todoroki-kun become this kind of man?? Oh, he's always been this way. Izuku thinks as he blushed.

Tap tap tap

Footsteps pattered against the asphalt ground. It resonates with Izuku‘s heartbeat despite the boisterous streets filled with the hubbub of the city. The lights from the posts illuminated their path. Izuku is conscious of his position: twined arms on neck; leg too. He couldn't help but be too aware of how nervous he was. Being carried by Shouto made him really comfortable though.

Suddenly, he remembers Kacchan and it makes him sad. There were times Kacchan was gentle and affectionate with him. Sometimes, he used to carry him like this when he had too much to drink.

“Am I heavy?”

“No.”

“Kacchan always tells me I am though.”

Izuku quiets. Shouto knows what he’s feeling. He wants to console him, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“Im so sorry for bothering you. A grown man, a hero at that acting spoiled like this.. is unbecoming.”

Shouto adjusts Izuku on his back. He swallows a lump in his throat and raises his head. There were moments that he wanted to confess his feelings to Izuku. And this was like one of those times. And like those times, he was afraid his heart would be broken before the words escape from his mouth.

“Would it be okay if we just stop at my place?”

“Huh? But I don’t to want to trouble you.”

“The trains have already stopped.”

Izuku hesitantly agrees. He tells himself that he doesn’t really have a choice. Closing his eyes to listen to the sound of Shouto‘s footsteps, he couldn‘t help but think about a lot of things; about nearly falling in love with Shouto in the past.

If only it was with you I fell in love with.

----

Quiet places come alive when there are people. His apartment became brighter and less lonesome when they arrived.

Shouto would have never imagined the day would come when he would lay Izuku down on his sofa. He sits down far away from him to rest. He closes his eyes and remembers something that he was trying his best to forget: Timing.

Timing is everything. Most of the time, it is the only thing that matter. If the timing was right, he would have confessed to Izuku and maybe they would have been together.

Just like before, he wants to tell him everything, but he can’t. He could not. Not with a timing like this, when Izuku was nursing a heartbreak. He didn’t want it like this.

Holding back wasn’t his forte. He still loves him.  Very much. And being with him like this, and knowing that he's finally free makes him want to try. He takes Izuku’s hand. Izuku is sleeping soundly. His eyes twitch when Shouto lifts his hand up. Half asleep, he opens his eyes slightly.

Shouto sighs and kisses  his hand.

“Midoriya, I've always been in love with you. Always. Ever since the sports festival. How many years has it been? I know this is cowardly, confessing when you‘re asleep; hiding my feelings like this.

“But I don’t think I can go on like this much longer. I dont think I’ll ever love any one else other than you. I know that you only see me as a friend, but I…”

plop

A teardrop falls on Izuku's knuckles.

“Ah,” Shouto is surprised. He didn’t mean to cry. He drops Izuku’s hand and rushes to dry his face.

The lid that he put to seal his emotions finally broke out like a dam, spilling everything he’s been bottling up inside.

In those wee hours of the morning, Izuku dreamt of Shouto confessing to him, and wanting so much for it to be true, if only it wasn’t a dream.

.

.

.

Tani kita nalang.

Inspired by Rivermaya‘s wonderful song entitled 241. It fits so well with the concept of this fanfic. The whole song is quotable.

trans: Tani kita nalang. - a hiligaynon phrase. I don’t know how to translate it in english so I’ll just try to explain. In its romantic form, it is something you say to someone you want to be together with if things were different between the two of you. The catch is, you know that won’t happen, so you just long for such a possibility.

In short, it’s wanting to be someone you know you won’t ever be together with.

I thought of how to write the version of it in english, but it really can’t be as effective and straight to the point as the hiligaynon version. Or if not, it is just really my lack of skill talking. But seriously, it could be translated into, “What if” or “I wish.” the context can just be implied. But I don’t think it’s enough.

#fics #bnha #tododeku

[burnedbyshoto]

Seven Days Late - Part Two

todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: angst, semi anti-Endeavor content

word count: 5,716 (it’s long yall, sorry)

A/N: ooookay! thank you for every like, reblog, and request after part one was posted! I wasn’t actually expecting to write a part two... but without further adieu: 

Part One

Seven Days Earlier

Shouto couldn’t sleep, he had been trying for hours, but he just couldn’t seem to keep his eyes closed. Instead, Shouto found his eyes staring at your sleeping form. Drool was appearing out of your mouth, and you sniffled way too much for someone asleep. But still, he smiled, you were beautiful.

He placed a hand on your cheek and almost laughed as you responded to his touch, even though you were asleep.

Shouto pushed back a lock of hair delicately and froze. 

Oh.

He was in in love with you.

Shouto has been in love with you for ages now, since the second year of high school, but this feeling right now. This unadulterated form of love that spread through him as he watched your sleeping form scared him shitless. He bolted up, his heart racing.

He knew that marriage was the next step in your guys’ relationship and that you had discussed being married, but the theoretical was so different from the realistic. No matter how much y/n had changed the way he observed love when it came to marriage the way it transpired between Endeavor and his mother was the only love within marriage he understood.

He knew that his parents were a special circumstance, one of the rare many, but still, he was scared that one day the two of you would parallel his parents. So he got out of bed and went to the bathroom. 

Splashing cold water on his face, Shouto stared up into his reflection and studied at his face. At this moment it haunted him.

He could see the terror and the abuse his father created on his left side, and the horror and depression of his mother on the right. Shouto needed to get out. Immediately.

Pausing, he cursed under his breath, today was his day off as it was yours too. Today’s plans consisted of a lunch date, followed by a dinner party with Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida. Still, he needed out, he needed to think.

Carefully going back into the room, Shouto grabbed his costume that hung on the door and returned to put it on. Finishing up, he went to the bed and sat down, turning on the lamp on the bedside to help him put on the final touches of his uniform, typically you never wake up to his lamp.

Today, he wasn’t so fortunate.

“Good morning, Shoucchan.” He heard you whisper, your voice groggy, and he stilled not having anticipated seeing you awake. Still, Shouto had been raised to be respectful, and with the love of his life speaking to him he managed a response.

“Morning.”

Shouto could hardly focused as you asked about why he was in costume, and he lied effortlessly. You then reminded him of the dinner party, and he mentally cursed. Why were his friends and significant other so social? But he nodded at the reminder turning to face you one more time. 

As he looked at your tired figure squinting at him, leaning onto your arm for support, he smiled but the worries of his lies made it hard to smile at the one he loved. Your eyes glistened the way they did when you locked eyes, and Shouto caved. Grasping your free hand gently in his own, he raised it to his lips and kissed it softly.

“Goodbye, y/n”

Shouto stood up and left after turning off the lights.

“I love you, Shoucchan.” You called after him.

“And I, you.”

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Night One

Shouto found himself knocking on Midoriya’s apartment door that night. It was nearly midnight, but when he tried returning home he felt like he couldn’t face you with these newly uncovered feelings.

Was he supposed to propose to you? Get married? Eventually, turn out to be just like his father and hurt you emotionally and physically? He couldn’t even think about it.

Shouto also knew that he couldn’t just ignore these feelings or else he would quite literally act out because he never enjoyed lying--especially to you.

Was he supposed to break up with you? Shouto knew that if he did that sure you would hurt, but you were you. Unimaginably sweet, kind, beautiful, and amazing. Sure, you would hurt for a while, but hey, you would definitely find someone that would befit your needs better than he ever could, or at the very least would never turn out to be someone like his father.

So there Shouto stood, in his costume, knocking on his best friends apartment because he wanted to be somewhere where he wasn’t reminded of his home-life, or of you.

“Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya answered the door in an All Might sleeping shirt and matching bottoms. “W-What are you doing here so late? Y/l/n-chan was really worried about you not being there for dinner!”

“I know,” Shouto said softly, “I got her text, I, uh, can we talk for a bit, I’m not ready to go home.”

Midoriya looked at Shouto with wide eyes, looking panicked for the future of his friends' relationship as he quickly assumed the worst, “Y-Yeah, come in, guest slippers are the purple ones, I’ll get some tea for us going.”

Shouto walked into the apartment, switching out his shoes for his slippers and made his way over to the couch. Ever since moving in with you, Shouto discovered that the snugness of apartments really grew on it, it was comforting, soft, homey. However, even though the basic layout of Midoriya’s apartment was nearly identical to that of your’s, it just felt so wide and open. Not like home.

“Here you go,” Midoriya concentrated on the two mugs of hot tea in his hands, handing one over to Todoroki who took it with a thank you. “So, what’s wrong-”

“I’m in love with, y/n,” Todoroki states his eyes locked onto the tea.

“Oh, uh, I thought you two were already on that stage? C-Congrats?” Midoriya laughed awkwardly unsure of how to really take in his friends’ statement.

“No, we are, but it’s...” Todoroki paused, it was hard spilling out his guts to people, but he knew Midoriya was the only one that could help him right now, “I want to propose.”

Midoriya choked on his tea. “Oh shit, Todoroki-kun! That’s h-huge, congratulations!” Midoriya cheered, his eyes wide, smile large.

“I’m not going to though.”

“W-What?!”

“If I turn out to be like Endeavor to y/n, I would never forgive myself.”

“No, you would never be like--”

“I spent ten years of my life unknowingly acting precisely like him, how do you know that when it comes to marriage I won’t be like him until it’s too late?”

They stared at each other in a reserved stillness for a few minutes before Shouto shook his head, “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Day Five

After three days sleeping on Midoriya’s couch, and fifty missed calls from you later, Shouto was leaving Sero’s apartment after staying there for one night. Having been yelled at by Bakugou about how much of a “fucking dumbass bitch” he was being during a meet up between Sero’s other friends really ruined the entire staying over the thing for him. Bakugou also relented that if Shouto for claiming he was in love with you but continued avoiding you better than the worst criminals, he was a fucking moron. Shouto sighed, he didn’t really have any other option of where to stay except with his family now.

Shouto walked up towards the stairs to a grand door and knocked on it twice.

Tensing, Shouto watched as the doors opened, and out popped Fuyumi’s head, her eyes immediately locking on him, and a stern eyebrow hiked, “Oh Shouto, you’re in some hot water, huh?”

While Shouto relaxed knowing that it was his sister who opened the door, meaning that Endeavor was probably not home, but tensed again because if that was how his caring older sister opened the door that means y/n and Fuyumi were still conversing.

“Yes, I know exactly what happened, and let me just tell you now: so does mom!”

Well shit...

Despite Fuyumi’s constant provocation Shouto managed to get his sister to stop prying for the night and just let him sleep.

Shouto stood in the doorway of his childhood and teenage room, his eyes swept over the vacantness of it all. His tatami was still perfectly placed in the far-middle of the room, with a light grey futon on top of it, a desk to the left of it, and the wardrobe to the right. Everything seemed perfect. Shouto forgot how big his room was. Hell, in comparison to your apartment, his room could fit your kitchen, living room, and bathroom in it just fine.

It really hit Shouto then, just how much he missed you. He wished he could just go over with an attested plan on what to do, Todoroki Shouto always had a plan, but he didn’t have one and it was making his head throb. Slipping into his old bed, he groaned, your stupid soft and comfortable mattress had grown on him and now his old bed was uncomfortable.

The buzzing of his phone alerted Shouto, and he glanced at it. It was another call from you, your contact picture was from the night of your first anniversary. You were smiling wide, mid-laugh as you ate an ice cream cone that would be snatched by a seagull seconds after the picture was taken. Shouto watched the screen go black as the call ended, he wasn’t going to pick up without a plan.

New Voicemail, the notification read. Being that it was your anniversary three days ago, Shouto caved, and unlocked his phone reading through your plentiful of texts, your worried texts, your texts that expressed love and hope, and the texts that spoke of your love and gratitude regarding him over the course of your three year relationship even if he was ignoring you. Exiting the text app, Shouto opened up his voicemails.

86 New Voicemails.

Putting it to his ear, Shouto listened to the first one.

‘Hi Shoucchan, you haven’t been home in two days, and I’m just... really worried love. If I had to guess, you’re at Midoriya’s right now! Okay, I didn’t guess he texted me that you’re there, but I hope I haven’t done anything to make you upset or irate! Come home soon, okay? Bye, I love you so much.’

Every voicemail ended up being like that in one shape or another, except each one passed with growing sadness in your voice, and it tightened Shouto’s throat thinking about it. He was hurting you, a lot, but he couldn’t call you back, not yet.

It was hurting him, Shouto wanted more than everything to go back to you. To slip back into your messy apartment, and climb into your mattress that was capable of swallowing someone whole with how soft it was. Shouto wanted you like no other, but as he lay there staring at the ceiling of his room, he realized that he couldn't go back without a plan, and he wasn't sure when that was going to come together.

Day Six

Shouto woke up and got ready for the day, it was his day off after all. Walking over to the dining room, he was met with Fuyumi staring at him with the same raised eyebrow, “Are you finally going to explain to me what’s wrong, Shouto? This isn’t like you!”

Shouto grabbed the bowl of white rice topped with an egg waiting for him before he nodded his head, better to get it over with. Shouto sat across from Fuyumi at the table, explaining to her what he had felt that morning he couldn’t sleep, explaining that he wanted to marry you, but most importantly he expressed his anxiety of becoming alike to Endeavor.

“Shouto...” Fuyumi whispered as Shouto wiped an angry tear away.

“Everyone keeps telling me that it won’t happen, but fuck, what happens if it does? What if I hurt y/n and all everyone can think is that they had been wrong all along!”

“No.”

“Y/n is the person I love most in this world, a-and I can’t just let her agree to marry me without her knowing that I can become exactly like him!”

“No!”

“On top of that, I wouldn’t even blame y/n for hating me at this moment, maybe all this avoiding will make it seem like I’m no longer in love so that their future will be happier than it would be with me.”

“NO!” Slamming her hands onto the table, Fuyumi screamed, her eyes filled with sympathy and tears for her little brother. “You won’t be like our father, Shouto! Not even a little bit! Are you kidding me? You think y/n would even let you bully and berate you as our father did to mom? No! If you want to propose Shouto, propose to y/n, it’s not just your worries! I’m sure y/n has plenty of insecurities of their own!”

Shouto froze, not sure how to react about how passionate his sister was being, but Fuyumi wasn’t done quite yet.

“You told me that you felt completely in love with y/n, and that scared you, it’s understandable! You, in particular, went through so much growing up, and you saw the worst of it all, but if this is pure love, true love, I won’t let you sit here and cry about it when you can be doing something about it! Talk to y/n, Shouto, I’m sure they’ll help carry you through every insecurity because marriage isn’t an easy thing! Just like relationships! But don’t you dare throw it away! You’ve never been this happy before, Shouto, please don’t give it up.” Fuyumi gasped for air as she fell over to the ground, her emotions draining her.

Shouto didn’t even move a muscle, his hair was in his face, concealing any emotion that could potentially leak out, and Fuyumi looked at her brother who finally looked at her. His eyes were flowing with tears, and her jaw dropped, “Will you come with me, to a jewelry store, I-I think I need an engagement ring?”

“O-Of course!”

Day Seven

Shouto was cleaning up his room, a bundle of dirty clothes in a bag, and a small velvet box in his hands, he was finally unhesitant to go home.

“Fuyumi, I’m going to head out now, I’ll let you know how it goes.” Shouto semi-shouted as he walked towards the front door ready to correct any and all damage he may have done.

Shouto looked into the hallway hearing the floor creak gently, and halted, his body stiffening as he stared at the one and only Flaming Hero: Endeavor.

“Shouto.” Endeavor greets, shifting to stand parallel to Shouto.

Shouto watches Endeavor emotionlessly, “Endeavor.” He returns the greeting.

They stare at each other for a long time, neither one daring to move or say anything. Shouto concentrates in on Endeavors eye-movements and shifts when he sees him fastening onto the engagement ring box in his hand.

“Is that a—“

“That’s none of your business, Endeavor.” Shouto interrupts, scowling as he shoves the box into his pocket, internally cursing on why he didn’t do that, to begin with.

“You’re proposing to y/h/n? Are you serious, Shouto?!”

Now typically, those words from a parent tended to be one of celebration and excitement, but the words that left Endeavors lips were only ones of objection and irritation.

“Yes, I am serious, just like my relationship with y/n is serious,” Shouto replies back, a scowl on his face.

“You’re really stupid if you think I’m going to let my prized possession marry some D-Class quirk, I won’t allow it.” Endeavor states, taking a few steps towards Shouto who only glared with higher ferocity and hatred as he neared. "Your quirks won't match up at all."

“Grow the fuck up, Endeavor, like hell I’m going to let a man who fucked over my mother have a say in my relationship.” Shouto just about hissed at Endeavor who suddenly had a mood change to bemusement.

“Oh, I see now.” Endeavor ‘tsked’ as he smirked, “You got scared, didn’t you.”

“Wha—“

“Y/h/n suddenly wasn’t working with my successor, and it made national news, hell reporters even came seeking me for answers.” Endeavor smirked slyly, his voice taking on a sing-song tone, “You’re afraid of turning into me, aren’t you? You don’t understand, and you won’t ever understand why I did what I did. I can live with my mistakes, but you? No, Shouto, you have Rei’s weak spirit so, of course, whenever you act like me you don’t even notice and better yet it consumes you.”

“That’s not—“

“True? But it is. You’re going to bring an undesired person into my family, and then you’re going to live in hatred of becoming me while never realizing that you’re acting as I once did. I think of it as irony, don’t you?”

Shouto could not bring himself to answer, his body trembling slightly as if he was once more a small child learning the cruel world of being a hero.

“You may surpass me, Shouto, but you’re still a failure. You’ve failed so many times when your relationship fails with y/h/n, I won’t even be surprised.” Endeavor snarked as he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Shouto alone in the hallway his once confidence now destroyed.

Shouto walked slowly to the train station, he was going home to do something. Propose? Or break up?

Shouto boarded the train, his body feeling uncomfortably heavy as he took a seat, the train was empty, and he pulled out his phone. Everyone was telling him to propose, even Shouto was telling himself to propose, but Endeavors taunts rang out louder than any other voice in Shouto’s contemplation.

Riiing. Riiing. Rii— Shouto ended the call on his phone without even seeing who it wasn’t.

Trudging out of the train, Shouto walked down the familiar road to his apartment and took the stairwell up. Unlocking the door, he entered quietly, unsure of your status but hoping you weren’t asleep. Locking it behind him, he sees you on the table, knocked out, drool on your face, your typical sniffles, ...and the empty bottle of wine in front of you, fuck he wished you haven’t drunk the entire bottle in one seating. He paused again, touching your face gingerly and froze.

Shouto loved you more than anything, and at that moment placed the ring box in his back pocket and decided that because he loved you, he couldn’t be with you anymore. He was going to get it done with no excuses for disappearing and calling you by your last name, something you disliked him doing now.

Before Shouto could comprehend what was truly happening because of him, Shouto stood outside the apartment door locked out, silently sobbing as he heard the wine bottle being crushed on the door and the shriek that left your mouth. The engagement ring box burning his body while feeling heavier than anything he ever carried before. What was he supposed to do now?

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

To say you were a wreck was an oversimplification. You looked revolting, wept just about every three minutes, and just about shut down when the name Shouto or Todoroki was mentioned. It was six days after the fact that the two of you broke up and still it felt like hours ago.

“This is actually depressing,” Mina sighed as the girls of the old class 1-A had called for intervention after you cried on national TV, “Why is y/n crying so much? Boys can totally be replaced...”

“I can hear you.” You mumbled into your pillow under a pile of blankets, “I’m not even c-crying.”

“Well, at least she didn’t deny the entire, ‘boys can be replaced,’ huh? That means she agrees!” Hagakure remarked as she leaned against a wall for support.

A soft, muffled sob came from you again, and the girls found you shoving your face into multiple pillows for you to cry. “Okay, that’s is, get out of bed now, y/l/n-chan!” Mina ordered as she walked over to where you were wallowing in your misery. “Get up!”

Mina, assisted by Uraraka, managed to get you sitting up on the side of the bed. “We just want to help you feel better, y/l/n-chan, even if it’s temporary,” Yaoyorozu explained as she stepped forward taking your hand in hers. “Let’s go out for the day, it’ll be fun!”

“Please shower.” Tsuyu piped in.

You laughed or at least tried to, but it came out as a garbled sob. You nodded your head as you stood up, heading to the bathroom.

“I’ll go freeze some spoons, y/l/n gonna need them for those swollen eyes.”

“Oh, good idea, Jirou-chan.”

So, eventually, with the girls of class 1-A, you stood fully dressed in something cute and presentable, smelling fresh and clean, with makeup on to cover the fact you had been crying practically nonstop.

“Alrighty, let’s go!” They all cheered, and you smiled at them. It was a watery smile, but you wanted to feel better, too.

The rest of the day, you and the girls went out shopping, trying on every clothing item at every store but not buying anything, went to a Cat Cafe, and even went to buy some sweets. Damn was it a long day, but the girls succeeded in making sure you didn’t cry for the many hours you were out together.

“So, we can go back to your house and watch the Top Ten Fails: Pro-Hero Shouto Edition, or anything really, while eating ice cream,” Uraraka suggested as you finished up a macaroon, brushing the crumbs of the pastry onto the tiny plate it was served on.

“They have a top ten?!” Mina shrieked, “Why was I unaware of this?!”

You laughed slightly as Hagakure shoved Mina for being insensitive, but you shook your head as everyone stared at you, unsure of how you were gonna react. Crying in public from a well known Pro-Hero was going to stir some sort of attraction, although most people did tend not to intervene when they were outside of the costume.

“It’s alright, Mina, everyone, but I think I want to be alone again. If you ladies wish to come back over tomorrow night, that’s fine, I j-just,” You stuttered, your heart was racing again as the suppressed emotions of the day were bubbling to the surface, “I want to be alone.”

Slowly, the girls agreed and so you hugged them all goodbye and left on your own.

The train ride home sort of sucked as you leaned up against a metal pole, your eyes closed in the last-ditch effort to keep yourself from crying. Your phone in your back pocket rang, and you slipped it out, hoping that it wasn’t one of the girls or else you would cry.

New Text Message.

Unlocking the phone, you saw the notification belonged to Fuyumi.

‘Hi, y/l/n! would you like to meet up tomorrow? I would really like to talk!’

Your stomach twisted, Fuyumi was your favorite sibling Shouto had, and having to let her go was something that hurt a lot. There wouldn’t be any trouble if you just saw her one more time, right? Maybe then she would be able to give you some advice to help out, Fuyumi was just naturally gifted that way.

So you responded back, ‘yes, of course! I’d love to meet up, where at? I’m not working this week so I’m available whenever you are!’ and waited for a message back.

Exiting off the train, another message was sent from Fuyumi.

‘The Jasmine Tea House at about 15:00? They have delicious tea there!’

You smiled softly at that comment, those Todoroki’s were so traditional Japanese that it often made you surprised, and your thumbs sent back a response.

‘That sounds lovely. jasmine tea house at 15:00.’

‘Wonderful, see you then!’

You entered your apartment, closing the door behind you, and sank to the ground. It was nice hearing from Fuyumi, but god, she wasn’t the Todoroki you wanted to hear from today.

Slipping into your bed that night, you sighed as you shifted over onto Todoroki’s side of the bed and lay there with silent tears streaming down your face until you passed out.

The following morning you climbed out of bed, showered, did your hair, applied some makeup, and changed into some cute clothes. A high waisted, form-fitting pair of black jeans tucked in front of a light pink flowy shirt, it looked presentable to you. Checking the time it was 2:30 and so you grabbed your purse, phone, and keys and left the building and made your way over to this tea house.

You arrived at the tea house at precisely 2:55 and scanned the rather busy establishment for the iconic hairstyle that was Fuyumi’s, and you spotted her in a back booth, her eyes focused on a menu in her hands. Telling the hostess you found the other member of your party, you walked over to the back, greeting Fuyumi as you slipped into the booth.

“Oh, y/l/n-chan, it’s been too long!” Fuyumi sighed, a smile on her face. “How have you been?”

You laughed shortly, pausing to gather up the energy so you wouldn’t bawl in front of your ex’s sister. “I’m better than can be expected, uh, how’s teaching coming along! I heard you were up for some major promotion!”

Fuyumi waved her off, an embarrassed blush on her face, “Oh, well yes! I was to be named Principal!”

Your jaw dropped, that was tremendous, “Oh, congratulations!”

“No, no, I didn’t take the job.” Fuyumi dismissed the congratulatory comment, “I love working with the students too much to go do a desk job for a living.”

You smiled gently, “You Todoroki’s sure are something else, you’re a true hero.”

“Oh hush, I’m not seeking praise, it’s simply the truth!” Fuyumi giggled obviously a bit uncomfortable with the praise, another trait of the Todoroki children.

The two of you ordered a teapot of the tea of your choice when the waiter appeared, and you talked casually after what opinions you had on different things. When the teapots arrived, you thanked the staff member who brought them and placed them to the side after filling up the ornate teacup in front of you.

“So, I have to be honest,” Fuyumi drawled out as she took a sip of her tea, and you stilled knowing what was coming next, “I asked you to come here so I could learn what happened with Shouto? He just came back home that one night and well, it was just... unexpected? And he won’t tell me anything.”

You nodded your head, as you took a gulp of the scalding tea in an attempt to calm your emotions, “We, uh, broke up. He left for seven days, and came back intending on breaking up with me, which he did.”

Fuyumi gawked at the young hero in front of her, who was refusing to admit that the tea was too hot to drink and was just downing it. "He d-didn't ask you anything important?"

You shook your head, frowning slightly not remembering being asked to do anything but to go to bed.

“Ah, okay, well, let’s continue with our tea? I think we will both feel much better afterward.”

To be honest, it was actually really calming to be sitting with Fuyumi and just ranting, because she sat there and listened and gave back incredible advice. The back booth was a good choice because no one was really around to see you cry as you explained what happened with Shouto and how you didn’t see it coming until it was that final day. You admitted that you jumped to conclusions, that you really had no idea why he was gone, but that you had just gotten insecure that sweet Shouto felt guilty in breaking up with you.

After ranting about Shouto, the two of you carried out another conversation about current events and Fuyumi’s own personal life, and by the end of your gathering, you really felt better.

“I’m really sorry what my dumb baby brother put you through, y/l/n-chan, I really do hope we can remain friends!” Fuyumi stated as she hugged you tightly as you were now leaving the tea house.

“Haha, of course! You’re too great a friend to lose.” You agreed as you held onto the hug for a little while longer.

“Alrighty, see you next time, bye!” Fuyumi called out as she walked away waving. You waved back, feeling better then you had all week, and returned to your apartment.

You laid in your bed staring at your ceiling, thinking about the last seven days and sighed. It seemed that at least for today, you didn’t have any more tears left to cry. You stayed in the same position for what seemed like hours before you dozed off thinking about the man who you really wanted back in your life.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

You woke up to the rampant knocking on your door, looking over at the alarm clock, it was only 7:58 p.m., what a good nap. Groaning, you pushed yourself off your bed and glanced at your phone, the screen was shining with hundreds of missed texts and a handful of missed calls and voicemails.

What was going on...

Getting out of bed, you walked to the entrance and remembered inviting the girls over yesterday and swung it open, “Mina could you be any less... impatient....”

It wasn’t Mina or any of the girls in your class, but instead it was Shouto who’s hair was disheveled, and clothes that looked like they were wrinkled. Wrinkled clothes always bothered Shouto.

Millions of emotions flew between the two of you as you stared at each other, and your anger flared remembering the way he treated you seven days ago, so you grabbed the door ready to slam it in his face much comparable to what you did that night. “Wait, no, please y/n/n, please hear me out.” Shouto pleaded but you didn’t care as you closed the door between you two.

You pressed your forehead to the door panting as you tried to control your breathing, fuck did you want to forgive him but you guess that wasn’t happening considering you just slammed the door again.

“Fine, keep it closed, I know I deserve it! I just wanted to talk to you?”

“You have two minutes,” You whispered through the door hating the fact you wanted to listen.

“I wasn’t mad at you, or wanted to break up,” Shouto admitted and you felt a small thud on the door, you knew he put his head onto the door. “I was just scared.”

You scoffed, you see gonna need a lot more than being ‘just scared.’ “What did I do to make you scared?”

“Nothing!”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh yeah, I did nothing and scared you away for seven days and got dumped.”

“No, okay, I see how you could think that, but I...”

“One minute.”

“I love you, y/n.”

“I already—“

“No, you don't, because I never felt this in love with you before.”

“Wow, okay.”

“Shit, that came out wrong, I just—it scared me just how much my love for you has grown... and I was scared. I know the next step for us is marriage, but I don’t want to fuck that up. A-And I have fucked it up, and I’m so sorry for that! I want to marry you, y/n, but I was stupid and insecure about turning out like Endeavor and I couldn’t do that to you and so I left.” Shouto groaned and you froze.

All your guy’s talk about marriage has always been a sensitive part because of Shouto’s past, and your longing to be married to him. And here he was confessing that he wanted to get married but he left you?

“Y/n?” Shouto’s voice cracked with emotion and you snapped back to reality.

You opened the door and saw Shouto with his head down, staring at his shoes, so unlike the confident man he is. “Then explain to me one thing, w-why did you let me break up with you.”

“I was weak,” Shouto confessed, finally looking up at you, “I let Endeavor get to me, and I thought I wasn’t good enough for you.”

You shook your head as you grabbed his hand tentatively, “You could’ve said something, you know I would fight Endeavor for you.”

“I know, love, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Damnit, Shoucchan, do you realize how much hell you put me through?!”

He nodded his head, but you finally caved as you envelop him in a hug. “You dumbass.”

Shouto chuckles and plants his face in the crook of your neck. “I know.” He agrees.

“B-But,” You hesitated before bringing up what really was on your mind, “You’re ready for m-marriage?”

Shouto sighs, and pulls away, “There you go ruining plans for me, as usual.”

“W-WHAT?!”

Your heart burst and tears flowed down your face as you watched Shouto sink to his knee, pulling out a black silky velvet engagement box, “Y/l/n y/n, I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever put you through and am more importantly thankful for your forgiving and loving soul. I know I left when I shouldn’t have, but you’re the one for me, you’re the one I want and need. I should've done this the first time I felt this way, and so I’m sorry this is seven days late, but,” Shouto opened the box revealing a shiny engagement ring, “Will you marry me?”

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Andddddd done :)

please someone teach me how to link the posts @.@

bonus!

The girls all walked up to your apartment, juggling an insane amount of movies, games, and food in their arms. “I got the door,” Jirou said, using her ear jack to knock on the door.

They stood waiting until you opened the door, and you appeared eyes filled with tears, but you didn’t look sad.

“Hi!” You greeted with a smile.

“You... look happy?” Uraraka mentioned smiling herself, not sure what to expect.

“Oh my god is that?!” Mina shrieked noticing the rock on your finger.

“Yes!” You nodded your head blushing.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha writing blog #todoroki shoto imagine #todoroki scenario #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha todoroki #bnha imagines #mha #mha x reader #mha imagines #todoroki angst #todoroki fluff #todoroki shouto x reader

[r95irth]

Cut in the future Enji and Satoru One-shot

As you probably remarked I'm in a slump with my writing and drawing lately...I try my best to get out of it and write as much as I can but only tiny parts of planned one-shot. And so I was working on the Satoru and Enji’s One-shot...And realized that I had contradicted myself with what I’ve previously written in the todomomo week. (As I’ was writing that Momo would be knowing that Satoru was training with Enji, when she had no clue in the todomomo week one-shot) So I had to rewrite it. Which is an exercise that I really, really hate and usually take me FOREVER (literally) to do so. Beside I hate cutting words when it’s so hard to actually write them down. 

So here for you, if you’re curious, is the part that will be cut off of the next chapter. You can see that as a preview, maybe. Why not. I don’t know I just didn’t want o erase my work and share it with whoever could give a fuck about it xD Thank you, whoever who will read this this make me feel better uu

Context : the chapter happens during the one year that Satoru was home-schooled at Peace office, (the following year after better care events, before the epilogue). The Peace program was just launched so it also takes place after brothers in laws and but bit before Satoru meeting Max and Tsubaki. 

Anecdote : since I had a broken ankle this past month, I inflicted it to Satoru too, because I could. *evil author*

Enji grunted, and Satoru didn’t need his power to know that he disapproved the very idea. Though, it was not his permission Satoru cared about.

As expected, as soon as he called her with the phone of the playroom, she got there within minutes (and the child didn’t like the idea that she -or Shouto- would drop everything just for him, he always felt like he troubled them when they do). Momo managed to hide her disapproval of Endeavor’s presence in the children playground quite well, especially since her first words to the kid when they went to talk alone were:

-Is he bothering you? Do you want me to tell him to go away?

Satoru would have said that he could tell Enji to go away himself, but he wasn’t so sure of this fact. The man was scary, and loud -in a very aggressive way- Satoru’s every instincts told him to curl up on the floor and brace for the next hit every time Enji opened his mouth. The fact that he knew what Shouto’s life was as a kid, as Enji’s son, didn’t ease his fear at all. Quite the contrary, Satoru’s brain kept repeating each time “this is a bad idea, he’s going to hit you, he is going to hurt you” yet despite that...He also kept reminding him that he needed to learn how to fight, and worst ; that Enji was like mom and death-pair.

He missed his mother and death-pair sometimes.

Not their presences or places in his life, though, it was far simpler than that ; he missed the fact that he didn’t manage to help them at all. He knew they had done bad things, and needed to pay for that -just like Enji did. But so had Satoru, and yet the boy was there, unpunished and cared more than he’ve ever been. It was a bit unfair that he got to be okay while they were either dead or alone.

It was easy to wish for someone to be punished, when they hurt you, but it was harder to watch them being punished once you were okay and safe. Seeing someone being sad and hurt made him sad and hurt too, in some extent. Satoru wondered if it was part of his power, or just a personality flaw he had. No matter what the truth was ; the fact didn’t change.

Satoru couldn’t fix Enji’s relationship with his children -and didn’t wish to, since it would hurt Shouto to make the effort and hurting Shouto was the last thing Satoru ever wanted. But as far as he was concerned, Satoru could interact with Enji in a way that wouldn’t make the man sad. Right?

-It’s okay, he didn’t hurt me, he assured to Momo ; which was true, because despite his anger -and to Satoru’s surprise- Enji didn’t hit him. He said mean things, yes, but nothing Satoru never said to himself before.

Momo didn’t seem convinced by Satoru’s words, but she didn’t accuse him of lying, instead, she said:

-He is not authorized to be here without someone watching though. Especially without Shouto knowing it.

-He offered me to teach me self-defense. Can i?

-No.

The answer was so spontaneous it surprised them both.

-Why?

Satoru knew his question was stupid the moment he heard it.

-Because you have a broken leg and a cast! Answered Momo as if it was an evidence.

Fair enough ; he really should have seen this excuse coming.

-So, when i’m healed i will be able to?

-No!

-Why?

Momo put a hand on her forehead, and closed her eyes, obviously dealing with a upcoming headaches.

-You know what he did to Shouto, she started. -He is…

Momo was too polite to call Enji an abuser, but the word nearly passed her lips, Satoru felt it rolling on her tongue. She managed to correct herself before actually saying it:

-He is not able to understand of a child’s limits at best, doesn’t care at worst. He might hurt you, and i will not not -neither will Shouto- allow it. You suffered enough Satoru.  

It was strange to hear that from the people he trusted the most, and yet not being able to be convinced by it. He didn’t want to suffer anymore, that he was sure of, but he still found it odd and uncomfortable sometimes, how much he was okay. Shouldn’t there be some kind of equilibrium, where he would be at peace with his mind and the reality? Some part of Satoru hoped that helping other would make him feel better, feel his luck a little bit more legit. Give him a reason why he was saved and so loved now, when so many like him didn’t have this opportunity.

-But he tries to fix things, tried to explain Satoru as much as he could. -How can he get better at it if we don’t let him try?

-First, because it is not your role to be his crash test. Second because, just like you with your grandmother, Shouto doesn’t want to forgive him even if he becomes a better man. And it’s his right. We can’t change that.

Satoru could understand that, and he never expected Shouto to forgive and get along with Endeavor ; it was more of a personal task he assigned to himself. But explaining it with words was harder than he imagined it. It felt logical in his mind, and but like a selfish whim aloud.

-He looks sad, he finally said, unable to come up with a better excuse.

And yet, for the first time, his argument moved Momo, as words echoed inside her head ; Do you need a reason to help someone? Her worried motherly looked softened up a bit and she whispered, a hand on her heart, before pulling him into a hug:

-Oh Satoru, you’re such a sweet boy.

-I just want to help a bit, and since it’s helping me too, why is it bad? He sincerely asked in her arms.

He felt her mental struggle, hanging between them, as she was aware how naive it was, and yet, not wanting to repress this kindness she was so fond off. She didn’t want him to be hurt in the process, she didn’t want Shouto to be drawn again in his family troubles. Yet she, as a hero, as the mother she felt like, wanted to help to. She wanted Satoru to think he could save someone too, that sometimes if you tried hard, you could make things easier for at least one person. She wanted him to believe that one could make a difference, even if sometimes life was more complicated.

-Let’s compromise, she finally whispered. -You can train a bit with Enji, only once a week when he is here at Peace office, and under my supervision. If he ever goes too far, we stop.

Satoru liked this security, and most of all, not to be left alone in the same room as the violent man. So he agreed on that.

#bnha #better care #My writing #fanfic cut #cut text #honestly I was high on medication and I was like wait I thought momo didn't know about this... #since then I have not touched it because rewriting is boring

[burnedbyshoto]

Seven Days Late

todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: angst, drinking((characters are 22 y/o btw))

word count: 2,197

A/N: so i was in a bit of an angsty mood, and i attempted a piece, so lets see if its actual angst. also my inbox is open for requests :D

Part Two

Things were wonderful, or so you thought.

Most days all you did was smile, laugh, and be loved. Shouto had been the love of your life for so long, he had been there in every up and down, and even encouraging your choice of aiming to be the number one hero while competing with your former classmates, himself included.

He had loved you through every fight, every battle, every trip to the hospital, and even the one time his life seemed to fall apart before his eyes. So what you couldn’t understand was why he suddenly disappeared from your shared apartment. Why he was avoiding your calls, texts, and even the email you sent to his hero agency.

It had been a week and you’ve heard nothing regarding him besides on the news when he had done something prominent as a Pro-Hero. You hadn’t had the opportunity to actually go out scouring for him, being busy with hero duties yourself, but you knew he was probably either over at Midoriya’s or Sero’s apartment. Furthermore, you knew that if he was this insistent on avoiding you, it would be something you should wait out.

Nevertheless, you continued sitting by the kitchen table refusing to go find him because you knew Shouto, and you knew he’d come back.

But it was killing you.

Your heart ached. Tears building up in your eyes as you tried to remember the last day he was here, trying to desperately recount if you had done something, anything, wrong.

There was a small part of you, however, the part that was screaming at you to wake up and realize that you were going to be getting dumped soon. To realize that you should just start preparing yourself so that when it came you wouldn’t bawl in front of him, but simply nod and be done with it. But that wasn’t happening today.

You picked up your phone for the tenth time today, the 170th time this week, and called Shouto. 

Riiing. Riiing. Ri– This is Todoroki, sorry I couldn’t pick up, try again later. The voicemail looped through your mind, swimming around in your brain as a few lone tears broke away. You sniffled a bit while the now-familiar beep to signal the start of your own message for him sounded, and you wiped away the lone tears.

“H-Hey Shouto, uh, it’s me again, y/n. I just wanted to call one last time because I’m just worried…” You let out a shaky breath and your voice cracked, “W-Why won’t you j-just pick up? Where are you…”

You hung up the call and threw down the phone, another call sent to voicemail, another text left on read and it was just becoming this depressing cycle. By all that was right in this universe, you were exhausted.

Standing up, you went over to the fridge and pulled out a glass of wine you and Shouto were saving for your third anniversary, which was two days ago. Pulling off the cork, you wasted no time in chugging down as much of the bitter liquid as you could until it burned to breathe. Gasping, you tore the bottle from your lips, turning off your cell phone you slumped onto the kitchen chairs and drank another long, slow chug.

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“Do you want to move in with me?” You asked suddenly, looking over at Shouto who had been in the middle of ranting about how much his father annoyed him.

He blinked once. Twice.

“If you have the room for me?”

Your heart only continued to race as a blush covered your cheeks, you pressed a finger to your chin as if you were contemplating whether there was room or not. 

“It’ll be a tight fit since your room is the size of my apartment, but there should be enough space.” You teased him, but a memory flashed in your mind making you puff out your cheeks, “But no completely redecorating the room! My landlady will have a heart attack if you changed the room to look like your room or the dorms!”

“I would never want you to get in trouble because of me,” Shouto whispered as the silent agreement of him coming to live with you was settled.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

You scoffed at the memory as you nursed the bottle in your arms, bringing it up again to your lips. If he was going to break up with you, why did he make you fall so in love with him?

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Crashing through the hallways, you helped an intoxicated Shouto to his room.

After meeting up with your classmates from U.A. and with everyone finally being legal to drink, Midoriya, Bakugo, and Shouto had gone a little… too "Plus Ultra" on the drinking as they all asserted they could outlast the other. Where did it get them? Midoriya was blacked out on the bar with a tipsy Uraraka swearing that she would get him home safely. Bakugo had to be taken to the Emergency Room to get his stomach pumped, Kirishima and Kaminari had taken him although they too were hammered. Now Shouto was with you; Yaoyorozu and Jirou offered you a ride back to your place, as Yaoyorozu was sober since she was too embarrassed about making a fool of herself in public.

You had thanked your friends over a million times on the car ride back to your apartment as you tried to steady the ready-to-knock-out Shouto, it wasn’t that you were plastered, but you definitely were not restrained enough to handle the drunken mess that was Shouto. 

“Ow.” Shouto groaned as he walked straight into the corner of the door despite the best of your ability.

“Shit, sorry!” You apologized as you pulled him through the doorway of his room. You pulled him to his bed and sat him down, he bounced on the bed with a light chuckle as you started to untie his shoelaces.

“Come on, Todoroki-kun, work with me here!” You complained as the drunk man refused to let you take off his shoes.

“My toes get cold.”

“I’m not taking off your socks!”

After a small debate with the drunken Shouto, you managed to get his shoes off and his body under his covers. You were sober enough to be embarrassed about stripping off his clothes.

“Y/n.” He called out for you as you stood up ready to leave to your own room.

“Yes?” You answered, stopping in the doorframe.

“I think,” He yawned sleepily, a goofy smile on his face, “I think I’m in love with you…”

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Fat tears welled down your face as yet another chug of wine did nothing to help with the pain, if anything it seemed to intensify your depression by making you remember the good times. You peered at the currently blurred bottle in your hand and pouted at the nearly empty bottle, and with a bittersweet chuckle, you downed the rest.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Shouto accidentally woke you up early that morning, his back to you as he sat on the bed getting ready. You stayed in your laying position and stretched your arms above your head, a sleepy yawn escaping your lips.

“Good morning, Shoucchan.” You greeted him, and he stilled on the bed, not turning around.

“Morning.” He replied.

“You go in today? I thought today was your day off?” You asked, noticing his costume on.

“No, it is my day off, uh, I got called in. Something about an emergency.” Shouto responded flatly. You knew he was lying, but seeing how stiff he was, you decided to go along with it.

You propped yourself up off the bed, squinting at the dim light of your nightstand. ”Mm, well, be home on time, Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka are coming over for dinner, remember.”

Shouto finally turned to face you, the small smile on his face was tight but he nodded his head. Pressing his lips to your free hand, he whispered goodbye and left you after turning off the lights.

“I love you, Shoucchan.” You called after him.

“And I, you.”

When dinner came, Shouto never showed up. You sat at the kitchen table confused, apologizing to your friends on his tardiness. But as the evening continued, no amount of laughter and chatter lessened your uncomfortableness about the empty chair beside you.

“I’m sure he’s okay, y/l/n-chan, I bet he just got held up!” Uraraka stated as she bundled up at apartment doorway, moving her hair from being trapping by her collar.

“Yes, Todoroki-san is very responsible. I am highly certain that it was something outside of his control, let him know we missed his company.” Iida agreed with a nod, his hand waving robotically.

“Call us otherwise!” Midoriya reassured you, squeezing your arm, but you laughed off their concerns.

“I’m sure he’ll be home soon, sorry about that though. Next time you come around, hopefully, he won’t be gone!” You waved your hands as you walked your friends out, waving at them as they left together.

As you walked back into your apartment, you sent Shouto a text before getting ready for bed.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Your head hurt.

A low pulsing throb seemed to resonate throughout your entire body. Dazed and confused, you realized that you had fallen asleep on the kitchen table, but it must’ve still been a small time-lapse because the alcohol was now firmly buzzing through your body.

“Come on, y/l/n, let’s get to bed.” A voice whispered.

It was Shouto.

“W-What?” You garbled, feeling his arms supporting you as he helped you to your feet. “W-Wait, no!” You protested twisting your body to get out of his grasp. You managed to break free, only to stumble away, your breathing palpitating.

“You’re drunk, y/l/n, you need to be in bed.” Shouto reasoned with you, his eyes trained on you like he was dealing with an immature toddler.

“No!” You repeated, standing your ground while swaying while you stared at him directly, not flinching away from the direct eye contact you were making. “I don’t want too!”

Your lips found the lip of the bottle, but there was nothing left, and quickly after Shouto took it from you and put it onto the table.

“Please, come on, y/l/n, it’s late…” Shouto pleaded lightly, obviously trying not to anger you.

It didn’t work.

“It’s late? How a-about you’re late!” You slurred slightly, your eyebrows furrowing as you glared at your boyfriend, was he still your boyfriend? “You’re seven days late, Shoucchan, and w-what… I don’t get an explanation?? Only a c-command to get to bed, oh please.” You scoffed, you could feel your throat tightening as he just stared blankly at you, but you knew he was annoyed.

“You’re drunk, I am not going to explain myself when you’re not sober,” Shouto explained, his irritation slowly rising to the surface.

“Oh, you’re not?! B-Because what, I’m–I’m too emotional when I’m drunk? I’m not an i-idiot, Shouto, I know you’re breaking up with me!” You spat out, your bottom lip trembled as tears fell down your cheeks unchecked.

The lack of an answer or denial is what really made you choke back a sob.

“Unbelievable…” You whisper to yourself, and those words echo in Shouto’s ears.

“Y/l/n–”

“Stop…” You wheeze out, your body trembling like a leaf, “You don’t call me y/l/n anymore, you haven’t in years… don’t pretend you’re not here to end things.”

The room grows silent except for the broken sobs leaving your mouth despite your best effort to be quiet. You looked at him, but his face was just blank and a crushing awareness hit you.

“You d-didn’t even care, even a little bit?” You gasp, unable to catch your breath, you grasped the chair for support as your head fell to your chest. “I’ve spent all this time wondering and worrying about you. You didn’t think of me once, huh?”

Your eyebrows are scrunched, and your words are pointed, stabbing at him with all you had. “You’re unbelievable.”

“It hasn’t been as easy as you think,” Shouto said, disagreeing with your accusations, but you shook your head not believing anything coming out from him. “I never thought I’d be the one to hurt you…”

“Don’t pretend you care when you’re already one foot out the door,” You hissed, stepping closer to him with a finger jabbing into his chest. “Get out of my apartment, Todoroki.”

You watched in increasing anger as he stood still, his eyes swimming with so many emotions that you just could not understand.

“GET OUT NOW!” You shriek as you shove him roughly, your lips curled into a snarl. “GET THE FUCK OUT!”

You strained and forced Shouto to move, repeating the same four words until he was now outside of your apartment.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers but you slam the door in his face, tears flowing down your face and his.

You stormed over to the wine bottle and threw it at the door with a vicious shriek, and the energy was knocked out of you. 

Sinking to the floor, feeling weak as wretched sobs left your lips. You remained on a pile of broken glass shards and you trembled.

You loved him, but still, he was gone.

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A/N: ahaha uh, well, part two? anyone? no? but omg thank you for the support ive been given by you all, it makes me so happy <3

#todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha writing blog #bnha x reader #bnha #bnha todoroki #mha #mha x reader #todoroki shoto imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagines #todoroki angst

[class1akids]

Chapter 252 - Thoughts

This chapter absolutely blew me away. So much emotion crammed into so little space.

1. The Trio “win”

I love the disgruntled Bakugou slipping out of the unwanted hug - and getting away from those uncomfortable feelzies -  taking stock instead of the aftermath of the blitz-fight. That’s quite the escape-maneuver there.

Shouto is equally hilarious, furtively trying to cover himself with ice to disguise that half of his clothes burnt off. It reminds me of his S1 hero costume.  He manages to make it look cool too - windswept hair, lugging the villain around, oh-so-cool.

A rare Deku sassing Bakugou! - Their relationship feels like it has changed subtly. Bakugou is much more mellow with Midoriya, he toned down his insults and they don’t have much bite to them. And Deku calls out Bakugou more on his unaccaptable behaviour - I will count later how many “Kacchan!”-s we’ve heard during this one week. 

But this comeback is a good one, and I hope Deku will catch on that this is the best way to interact with Bakugou.

Also, he almost steals Bakugou’s moment to gloat, when he’s the first one to point out their total victory. Poor Bakugou though - he’s boasting moment is totally ruined by Endeavor conceding immediately that they were great and that he screwed up. It’s no fun being petty, when the other person is just down.

Although it seemed to me that the gloating was his attempt at deflection, because he saw another Todoroki-feelz avalanche coming his way (and because he didn’t want Endeavor to have a meltdown in the middle of the street. 

But we already know that it’s mission impossible to stop the Todorokis from oversharing. So of course they have to conduct their business on the busy street. It becomes serious / heartbreaking real fast. 

2. Natsuo and Endeavor

Every time I think Endeavor’s redemption arc cannot get better, it always does. Natsuo and Enji finally continue that talk they had at the first Todoroki dinner after the Nomu fight. And Endeavor this time truly owns up to being a shitty father, to hurting Natsuo, he even accepts the blame for Touya before Natsuo can bring it up. Natsuo, despite being shaken by Endeavor’s confession, doesn’t change his view - he’ll never forgive Endeavor (because he’s not kind like Shouto - recalling Midoriya’s perspective on forgiveness - and also how his good-intentioned words hurt Natsuo inadvertently).

   I love how nuanced all this is. Midoriya’s well-intentioned meddling may have helped Shouto and Fuyumi, but hurt Natsuo. His point was valid, but doesn’t mean it was valid for everyone.

Also, it’s strange that Natsuo just assumes that Shouto decided to forgive - could these boys just talk?

And then Endeavor finally, maybe for the first time in his life does something right by Natsuo, when he tells him that he’s plenty kind despite never forgiving...

That person staring from the car is a brilliant visual. 

Wow. This line hit very hard - right on point. 

Shouto doesn’t say anything through all this conversation, but with all the brilliant reaction panels you can see that he’s watching - and I feel like he finally sees whatever he was looking for. Endeavor changed; he accepts and validates the feelings of his children, he tries to do right by everyone, tries to find a way to give the distance Natsuo needs, the family Fuyumi wants, the new start for Rei. He did this at beginning of the internship arc with Shouto too, when he accepted his speech and his wish for their relationship to be professional, but I think Shouto being inside that situation couldn’t fully absorb that. Here, he’s observing from outside, and it’s different. 

I really wonder where this leaves him - after all, he remains in contact with Endeavor for his work-study.

3. Bakugou’s hero name.

I love everything about that short panel of them discussing at the station. Shouto managed to sneak into his hero costume. Look at his fanclub squealing in the background!!!!

And wow - it’s the first time ever Deku call him “Bakugou” - and probably the last time, so I’ll be sure to save this screenshot -  as Kacchan confirms that he chosen a hero name and it ain’t Bakugou.

He must have found the clarity he was looking for during this week if he’s settled on something, “his wish of what he ought to be”. 

Midoriya is so excited (he’s totally fanboying there) - but Bakugou is not telling him what it is, and not to Shouto either (that’s a nice little 3-way banter after all the Todo-tears) - he has to tell someone else first (logically Best Jeanist - cue a Bakugou / Hawks confrontation brewing). 

I wrote about my Ground Zero v Kacchan thoughts yesterday. I’m team Ground Zero personally, but I can see the thematic values of both (and we may get an option 3). 

4. Odds and ends

There is a bit of meta-conversation by Ending of Endeavor’s diminishing light, by the driver of Endeavor being targeted and the darkness growing and by Endeavor feeling like the light is there to stay - looking at the trio. 

It feels like in this arc Endeavor got to the end of the road - he belongs in the past and his only role now is give the best future he can; to his family, to the fledging heros. 

After doing right by Natsuo, Endeavor also tries to give Fuyumi what he thinks she wants (I’m not too sure if she’ll be ok with his self-imposed distance, because I feel like that despite everything, Fuyumi still cares about her father). But it’s good that he finally acknowleges all her very hard work. 

And Hori again pulled off the feat - here I am, rooting for a character I hated from the first moment he graced a panel, while simultaneously rooting for all his victims. Well done!

There is another little tidbit about Touya (other than Endeavor acknowledging that “he might as well have killed him himself” - which makes me still think Touya having a quirk-accident after attempting something he wasn’t supposed to...) 

Sounds like Natsuo is carrying his brother’s hurt, not only his own. 

#bnha #bnha meta #bnha manga spoilers #bnha 252 #bnha 252 spoilers #endeavor internship arc #endeavor #todoroki natsuo #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #wonder trio #todoroki fuyumi #endeavor redemption arc