#Tw: Self deprecation

[hunterwritesstuff]

Adam x fem sinner reader, Adam(angel) being insecure about his tummy and face, so reader basically just with body worship! (Suggestive!)

Sure!! :D Hope you enjoy! :D

"Why do you call me perfect?"

Adam groaned, gently pinching at his tummy. God, today was NOT being nice to him. First, his robe had to be put into the laundry, so he couldn't exactly cover up like usual, THEN his mask had to be fixed/remade, so his face was all out in the open, today just fucking sucked.

He straight up took down all the mirrors in his room at this point. He hated how he looked, and he knew if he went out, he'd have to put on the typical confident persona he always put on.

Hell, he didn't even want to fucking leave his room until he could cover up again! He sighed frustratedly, just resolving to get back into bed until he could wear his robe and mask again.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, hidden under his blanket for, he just knew he heard someone come in. "Adam?" He heard his partner call softly.

He grimaced. You were gonna see him at his most insecure, at his lowest, at his WORST.

He squeezed his eyes shut as the blankets got pulled off, ready for any insults or wayward comments to come his way about his appearance.

...

...

...

...

...but they never came. The only thing that came his way was a soft hand running through his hair. He slowly opened his eyes, looking up at you, tears starting to well up in them. "...you can go ahead, y'know...everyone else has already done it multiple times...you don't have to be different." Adam sighed.

"What do you mean, love?" You asked, tilting your head in confusion.

"Just LOOK at me!! I'm not conventionally attractive, I'm fat, I've let myself go, my face isn't attractive-" He started, pausing as you hushed him.

"Adam, you're perfect to me. Besides, even if you weren't-which you AREN'T-you were the first human. If you have any imperfections-which you DON'T-it's because God didn't really have humanity figured out fully." You reassured.

Adam frowned. "I'm SUPPOSED to be perfect. But I'm not."

"But you're perfect to me. Isn't that enough?" You asked. "I love you for all of you. No matter what."

"Nobody could. Two people already threw me away-People just want me for my dick! Not me as a person! Just my dick!" Adam ranted. "Nobody likes how I look!! I'm a mess, I've let myself go, and you should try to find somebody better for you!"

You furrowed your eyebrows in worry. How bad had this man seen himself? You looked down at your pocket, pulling your phone out, searching something up.

"Adam?" You asked.

"Just go find someone else." Adam frowned.

You shoved your phone into his face, showing him a photo of a baby seal. "What does this seal look like?" You asked.

"....it looks fat. Why?" Adam chuffed.

"How do you feel about it?" You asked.

"...it's cute." Adam sighed.

"That? I see you as that baby seal." You said softly. "Yes, you may be bigger, but you're still cute to me. I love you for YOU. Your face, your tum, your wings, all of it. All of you is perfect to me."

You turned to Adam, finding he was tearing up, clearly on the verge of breaking down into tears. "You think I'm like a baby seal...?"

"Mhm! And just like a baby seal, I wanna pick you up and snuggle you and love you and cuddle you until you realize just how lovable you are!"

Adam sighed, melting into your embrace. He felt happy. "I will say, the dick is a plus." You joked.

"Well, you've earned it, babe~" Adam grinned.

[graceful-starker]

Cockwarming

Summary: Tony is too embarrassed to just ask for what he needs. But Peter doesn’t mind. Peter already knows what he needs. Peter always knows.

Warnings: Dom/sub themes, dom!Peter, cockwarming, mild negative self-thoughts.

WC/Rating: 2222/E

Notes: I am using a random number generator, because I want to do all of these prompts but not in order.

~~~

Tony fidgets restlessly, fingers drumming against the table in a way that annoys even himself. He wants to stop; he wants to be quiet and good for his lab partner, but he can’t. His mind won’t shut the fuck up, and he feels the need to go do something. Like beat up some bad guys, or race his car, or-

“Tony?” Peter asks, and Tony stops his fingers immediately. He knows Peter wants him to look at him, but he can’t right now. He needs to tell Peter; Peter will understand. He always understands, when Tony gets like this. He understands Tony better than Tony understands himself. At all times, but especially like this, when Tony gets into this certain headspace he can never get himself out of. 

“Tony,” Peter says, a warning note in his voice now. Tony knows Peter wants eye contact, and if he can’t do that he needs to tell Peter. He just needs to tell Peter what he needs. He only needs to use his words. 

But Tony has never been good at this part. He’s never been good at simply asking for this. He’s embarrassed that he even needs it in the first place. Tony needs things, and it's embarrassing; both that he needs it and what he actually needs. He doesn’t know why, but it just is. 

Peter stands from his own space and walks in front of Tony, allowing the table to separate them for now. He just stands there for a second, and Tony starts to squirm in his seat as he death glares his fingers for betraying him and giving his headspace away. 

But Tony doesn’t move or tell Peter to get back to work, and so Peter waits one of Tony’s shaky breaths, then two. Then there’s a hand fisted in Tony’s hair, forcing Tony to look at Peter. Tony hisses at the sting, allowing tears to well up in his eyes despite the shame he feels coursing through him. He forces himself to keep eye contact now, now that Peter has taken the first step and forced Tony to. 

Peter’s lips are set in a thoughtful frown as his eyes roam Tony’s face, reading something there that Tony is incapable of putting into words. Then his hand slowly releases Tony’s hair, his lips twitching proudly when Tony doesn’t look away. “Stand up, Tony,” he commands softly. 

Tony swallows thickly, taking in a shaky breath before letting it out again. Then he finally stands, lifting his chin in false bravado as he maintains eye contact. His hands are shaking, so he balls them into fists and slams them into his thighs. 

Peter sees anyway, and he’s unimpressed by Tony’s weak attempt at defiance. He raises one eyebrow in a mock question, and Tony feels his teeth grind together. He hates this, he hates this so fucking much. He hates feeling like this, so full of shame and self-hatred. His mind won’t fucking shut up either. 

Peter hums, satisfied by the lack of fight if not full on submission. “Take your shirt off,” he says, in that infuriatingly calm voice. Tony hates it, he hates Peter. 

No, he doesn’t. Could never. But he thinks it anyway, if only to give himself something else to hate. 

He breathes in and out, gives himself five seconds to accept what’s about to happen. Then he yanks his shift off, lacking all grace, and balls it in his fist. His hand shakes when he releases it, letting it fall on his lab work. 

“Good,” Peter praises, and Tony’s nostrils flair with the need to disagree. All he did was take his stupid shirt off, and he even hesitated. But Peter doesn’t give him long enough to protest. “Now your shoes. Off.”

Tony doesn’t hesitate as long this time; he counts to three, before bending over to untie his sneakers. He toes them off, before pushing them under his desk so they aren’t in the way. He thinks about rebelling in a small way, thinks of straightening back up and glaring at Peter. He decides against it, and peels his socks off per Peter’s unspoken second command. He shoves them into his shoes before standing up again, his breathing already getting heavier. 

Peter actually smiles at him, and Tony holds his breath. Peter rarely smiles at him during these scenes; he knows it isn’t what Tony needs. Or maybe it is; Tony doesn’t know anymore. He wants his brain to be quiet, and Peter seems to be the only one who knows how to make it. “Good job,” Peter whispers, as if he thinks Tony might run like a startled deer if he speaks too loudly.

Tony might, if he’s honest with himself. 

“Pants, now,” Peter says at a normal volume, clinical command in his tone. It’s such a stark contrast to the loving smile, to the whispered praise, that it shocks Tony. It shocks him still, and god damn it, how does Peter do that? How does he know? “Fold them too, and put them on your chair after.”

Tony counts to two this time, before taking his belt off and dropping his jeans. He folds them carefully, keeping the belt in the loops, and puts them on the chair he vacated. He looks back to Peter, taking another deep breath. 

Peter hums in approval, cocking his head to the side as he considers Tony. Tony starts to squirm after a few seconds, breathing coming faster, and his hands itch to grab for his shirt. Somehow Peter waits for the exact second Tony was considering looking away, before he hums again. “Now your boxers. Fold them on top of your jeans.”

Tony’s fingers flex, but he doesn’t hesitate this time. His boxers are folded on top of his jeans before he thinks about it, and he’s back to staring at Peter. He doesn’t like this very much, being naked while Peter is fully dressed. He isn’t even hard yet, despite the arousal starting to warm him from the inside. He’s embarrassed, more embarrassed by the fact that he actually wants and needs this than by the act itself.

Peter’s lips twitch as he watches Tony’s face, allowing Tony to fidget in the silence. He waits, waits until Tony feels just about to burst before giving his next command. “Come here,” he says softly, but it leaves no room for argument.

Tony counts to three in his head, taking a deep and steadying breath before he walks around the table to stand in front of Peter. 

Peter wastes no time, letting one hand reach out to gently caress at Tony’s jawline and the other resting over Tony’s heart. It feels nice, too nice, and Tony wants to use his safe word. He wants Peter to stop, wants him to do literally anything other than show how much he loves and cares about Tony. 

Either the panic in Tony’s eyes does it, or the way his chest is starting to heave; either way, Peter somehow knows the exact second Tony is about to break. Tony isn’t sure how Peter always knows, but he’s grateful for it. He’s never trusted anyone half as much as he trusts Peter.

And isn’t that just too vulnerable a thought to exist?

Peter’s fingers on his jaw turn into a rough grip, forcing a gasp out of Tony’s lungs and the thoughts out of Tony’s brain. The dull ache of too tight a grip on Tony’s jaw hurts so good, good enough to let Tony focus on Peter again. “Are you going to be good for me, Tony? Or do you need me to help you be good?”

If this was anyone else, it might be a tease. If Peter were with a normal partner, the question might mean ‘are you in the mood to be a brat or be a good little sub?’ But Tony isn’t normal, and he never wants to be a brat. That requires too much thought and too much confidence on Tony’s part. No, Peter is asking if he’s capable of participating, or if he needs Peter to control everything. 

Tony doesn’t know the answer, so he just stares at Peter with wide eyes and breath coming too quickly in and out of his nose. 

But it’s okay that Tony doesn’t know the answer; a fact that took far too long to accept. He doesn’t need to know, because Peter knows. Peter always knows. 

Peter hums, letting go of Tony all together. Tony leans forward at the loss; was he leaning on Peter’s hand on his chest? He didn’t realize it, but he certainly did lose his balance just then. “That’s okay. I know what you need,” Peter says confidently. And yeah, yeah he does. Tony knows he does. 

“Come here,” Peter says, and lets Tony take in the words before he starts to back away. Tony follows, legs only a little shaky. Peter sits back down on his stool, and Tony freezes in front of him. “On your knees for me,” Peter demands, and Tony falls. He winces as his knees hit the floor, knowing he’s going to feel that more later. He should know better, he isn’t as young as he used to be, that was stupid-

Peter tsks, and Tony’s head shoots up, eyes wide with the horror of disappointing Peter. Peter runs a thumb over Tony’s lower lip, and Tony feels his mouth open on a gasp. “There you are,” Peter murmurs, more to himself than to Tony, and Tony hates that Peter knows him so well, knows the very second Tony’s mind starts to go too fast again. Or loves it, he can’t remember right now. 

Peter distracts him again, by letting go of Tony. Tony has to fight hard not to chase those fingers, instead gritting his teeth and forcing his back straight. Peter hums softly and pulls his zipper down, shoving them and his underwear down just enough to pull his cock out. It’s still mostly soft, and Tony is shocked to realize that he himself is already fully hard. When did that happen? He hasn’t even been touched.

“Open your pretty mouth,” Peter says, his right hand reaching out to cup Tony’s jaw again. His left hand holds his cock up and still, and it twitches once in interest for what’s about to happen. 

Tony sucks in a sharp breath, letting the shame wash over him as he closes his eyes. He lets himself wallow for three seconds, before opening them again. Peter lets him, because he knows Tony needs it. He finally lets his jaw drop, and then opens it even wider and sticks his tongue out just enough to cover his lower row of teeth.

“Good,” Peter breathes, as if he’s shocked Tony listened, and the tone makes a shiver run down Tony’s naked back. Peter moves the hand cupping Tony’s jaw behind his head, pulling gently until Tony follows. Peter pushes until his tip is in Tony’s mouth, and then pauses to let Tony breathe. 

Tony swallows thickly, taking a deep breath before making eye contact again. His brain is starting to quiet already, and it’s so fucking embarrassing that he needs this but he does and he’s so fucking lucky Peter knows how to handle it. 

Peter uses his thumb to stroke under Tony’s ear, and it feels so good that his eyes flutter. He pushes Tony the rest of the way down, until his nose is in Peter’s pelvis and his chin rests against Peter’s balls. Peter licks his lips appreciatively, scratching at Tony’s scalp in a way that makes Tony’s eyes roll into the back of his head. 

“Good,” Peter says, and his voice is so calm and in control. There is no hesitation, no shaking in his voice, no self consciousness or anxiety. Just cool, calm, collected control. He knows what he wants, what he wants Tony to do, what will happen. Because Tony will listen, and Peter knows what Tony needs.

Tony is jealous, normally, but not right now. Right now his world is slowly narrowing to Peter’s hardening cock in his mouth, to Peter’s fingers in his hair, to Peter’s ankles in his grip–when did that happen?–to the way Peter smells, to Peter’s abs being the only thing he can see. 

Peter starts to pet Tony’s hair, smiling down at him. Tony’s brain finally starts to turn off, and his eyes start to drift closed the longer he’s here. Drool is starting to roll down his chin and throat, but he doesn’t even care or feel shame from it. 

Peter uses his other hand to type on his computer, but his left hand remains loyally in Tony’s hair. Tony’s eyes are fully closed, his cheek resting fully on Peter’s thigh. It’s kind of hard to breathe with his nose in Peter’s skin, but he can breathe enough that he needs to focus on it but not worry about it. His hands are wrapped loosely around Peter’s ankles, and where his body connects with Peter’s is the only thing that matters anymore. Tony is too embarrassed to just ask for what he needs. But Peter doesn’t mind. Peter already knows what he needs. Peter always knows. And Tony trusts him to know what Tony needs, even more than he trusts himself.

[zimt-deathnote]

Are y'all ready to sob with me?! 🥲 I know this is really over the top and I feel the need to apologise for putting those two in this scenario. Though we could all use some more honest emotional intimacy sometimes, no? I hope you all feel that hug 💙 And man, I bet those salty tears burn like acid on the healing tissue.

Explanation for the conversation at the end: I have this headcanon that ever since they found that gun, Mellos last line of defense for EVERY plan is "If everything goes south, I'll just shoot us outta there" and that line became something of an inside joke between them.

[giggly-squiggily]

sorry idk how many rqs we're allowed to send in but if its ok!! lee!kenma and ler!kuroo bc im in love w them after seeing the hq movie. romantic with “Look how red you are! How cute!” thank you!! doing the lords work 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Friend you are so sweet! Thank you! :D I really like these two- especially after the movie! I've gotcha covered!

CW: Some self-deprecation

“Babe- look how RED you are!” Kuroo was laughing like a child while Kenma shot his hands to his cheeks. “It’s so cute!”

“Stop! Is it that bad?” He knew it was even while asking. They’d been running for awhile now- he probably looked like a freshly watered tomato plant. “I look terrible, don’t I?”

“No way! I love how red you get! It’s so pretty!” Kuroo gathered him up in his arms, making Kenma blush even more. “You look like you’re glowing! My glowing Kemna, hehe.”

“More like your grotesque Kenma.” He didn’t know why he was feeling so dejected over it. It wasn’t the first time he looked like this before Kuroo. Maybe now that they were actually dating, something changed?

“Hey.” A finger poked his side, making him twitch. “Who are you to talk about my gorgeous boyfriend like that, huh?”

“I know the couple- I’m not referring to the tall one.” Kenma’s words shook as more fingers explored, tapping and swirling along his ribs. “The shoohort one lohohoks like a trohohohll!”

“Oh hell NO! You’re gonna take that back right now!” Kuroo grabbed both his sides, tickling with all his might. “That short one is a beautiful elf creature who I love very much! He’s funny and supportive and smart as all hell! If anyone’s a troll, it’s the tall brunette he’s with! How’d he pick someone so fiendish?”

“Shuhuhuhut up! Thahahaht brunette is MY bohohohyfriend!” Kenma caught his hands, glaring with all his might through his laughter. “And he’s not a fiend! He’s thoughtful and well spoken, and he always makes that elf feel like he’s playing the best game in the whole world just being with him.”

Kuroo’s eyes glittered some, his smile shaky as he hugged Kemna close to him. “You really think that, my beloved elf?”

“You know I do. I think a lot of things about you- all good ones.” He was blushing again, but he didn’t care one bit. Not when Kuroo had that beautiful smile on. “Sorry- I shouldn’t be so mean to myself. I know it makes you sad.”

“It does. But I forgive you.” Kuroo kissed his brow, resting his chin on his head. “Let’s both agree we’re the hottest to come out of Nekoma, yeah?”

“Pfft-” Kenma laughed, nodding as he hugged Kuroo back. “Fair enough! I’m hungry- can we get something on the way back?”

“Finally hungry, huh?” The brunette laughed as they began their walk to the convenience store. “Sounds good.”

Send me a sentence starter and I'll write a dabble for you! :D

[ashensgrotto]

Monophobia

I've been struggling with writing a bit lately and I think it's because I'm stuck at the moment.

I get moments like these when I'm not completely at my best and a lot of internal fears, sadness, and anxiety rebuild itself within my mind and I start wondering if where I'm going is where I want to be or asking myself a lot of 'are you sure?' questions. I sometimes end up doubting myself, too, in the process.

But, I did want to write something since I've been quiet for a while, so I wrote kind of a short poem/story thing about the internal works of my brain - to give you an idea what it's like inside my head.

Don't know if anyone will read this but... eh, why not?

Also: Autophobia, also called monophobia, isolophobia, or eremophobia, is the specific phobia or a morbid fear or dread of oneself or of being alone, isolated, abandoned, and ignored. This specific phobia is associated with the idea of being alone, often causing severe anxiety.

******

There are days when I am surrounded by clouds of fear; fear of hatred, fear of regret… fear of abandonment.

It’s on these days that I often peer out of my darkness and see the world as something that I cannot touch. 

I see families and friends, connections made by smiles and laughter, grief and pain… love and hope.

I fear that if I were to take a step out of my confinement, I would instantly have backs turned toward me.

Those words of my past - ugly, crazy, disgusting, weird - would all come back and leave scars on my already battered heart.

I fear I cannot love nor be loved, I fear that I will never be accepted… that I will forever be alone. 

That I must walk this life alone.

So I leave my words outside my hiding place, stories of lives I wish I could live… in the hopes that maybe someone would knock on my door.

If I were braver, I would take the first step. If I was stronger, I would have protected myself… If I was smarter, perhaps I would be more than what I currently am.

But for now… I’ll continue to hide in the shadows, protecting what little of my heart remains… writing the lives I wish I could live, and listening for that first knock on my door.

Maybe someday… I will feel like I belong.

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

I got a prompt for you! Prompt: Tired of the daily abuse he suffers, Izuku makes the choice to run away, hoping for his mother's life to get better once he's gone. Keep in mind this Izuku isn't blinded by the flashiness of heroics and gave up on it a long time ago.

So as Izuku wanders the streets alone, he meets up with some of the future LOV members such as Dabi, Toga, Spinner, Compress, ect.

Together they form a found family with a mission to work their way up to expose hero society and change it for the better (instead of whatever the hell the LOV were doing)

HELLO, I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, SCHOOL AND MY BRAIN FUCKED ME OVER, BUT Y E S!!!!! I LOVE

Okay, imma be honest, a large part of this is going to involve toga, because I love her so much and she deserves so much better than she got, and she and izuku would’ve been such good friends if they had met earlier

Tw: for bullying and self esteem issues (a lot of self blaming) and as a general rule for my headcanons,,,,,, ✨angst✨

Kaachan and his ✨henchmen✨ had been getting worse lately. Well, ever since his “diagnosis,” it had been getting worse and worse, but izuku was about to reach is breaking point

Every day, he heard about how it was his fault that his father left, that no one loved or cared about him, that the world would be better off without him, that his mother would be better off without him.

He could see how tired she was, he could tell that the bills were starting to stack up, and that kaachan repeatedly busting his hearing aids was Not Helping.

Really, izuku knew they were right (they’re not, I’ll fight them). If he wasn’t such a burden on his mother, she’d probably be a lot happier. She’d probably smile more. Sing more. Hell, her husband wouldn’t have left her if it hadn’t been for him!

His mom worked long hours, so he’d often wander through the streets if he didn’t have too much homework. It was rather peaceful in the early hours of the morning when his mother had the night shift and izuku would find his only friends in the alley cats

That being said, izuku also knew it was rather dangerous in dark alleyways during nightfall. Especially for a quirkless kid. But, that had never stopped him before, and so, when he hears muttering from a few streets over, he silently, curiously, stupidly! Izuku, turn back now! The rational part of his brain reprimanded.

He didn’t listen

Eventually, he found a girl in one alley, only a few turns away from his, she seemed to be taking to herself?

Well. Izuku wasn’t one to judge. Especially when he did the same thing!

But she seemed to be in distress. Her muttering was getting louder, and seemed to be turning into a full on beat down of her own misgivings

Again, izuku could relate

He approached her, asking if she was okay. He made sure to stay several meters away, he might not have much self preservation, but he wasn’t stupid

She looked at him frantically. Oh kami, why did she have a knife?! (Please imagine the vine there) she was telling him to stay back, too

But again, when has izuku ever done what people tell him to?

He tells her his name and tries to reassure her that he’s not going to hurt her, that she’s safe

It takes a while, but she is eventually able to calm down a bit

It’s strange really, two kids who couldn’t have been out of middle school out in the middle of the night. But, they started to talk.

For the first time since he was 4, izuku had someone he could consider a friend? Well. Aside from the cats, of course!

Toga was so kind! And she was just as excitable as him! She really liked cute things, so he decided that he had to show her all the pictures of his alley cat friends!

She. Loved. Them.

He taught her how to get close with them! You just had to be a little patient! She wasn’t the best with that, but that was okay! She would do anything for a friend, and her new friend really liked these cats! So, she could totally be patient for them!!

It was worth it too! They were so cute, and izu-Chan looked even cuter holding them!! (Not an izutoga ship, she just loves cute things)

The two young teens (I imagine they’re like,,, 13 and 14 around now? Maybe 14 and 15? Toga runs away after she graduates middle school at 15, so like,,,, around there), as the weeks go on and they get to know each other, toga begins to open up about her family’s hatred and suppression of her quirk, and izuku tells her about his quirklessness, the bullying, and the stress he puts on his mother

She is incredibly protective of him. That’s her little brother/best friend/only person who cares about her/her person.

He’s the same with her, really, just shows it a bit differently. Has 1000000% written 100+ page PowerPoints on how once she is and that she can do anything she puts her mind to

She’s more action and physical based. She’s very affectionate, she hugs him as often as she can. They’re both touch starved, and she knows she’s not the best with words. So, she steals shit for him.

He doesn’t know that it’s stealing at first, when she shows up with a new notebook after kaachan burned another one. She doesn’t get why he’s so worried about her stealing at first. It’s only from big companies and corporations that could afford to lose a few notebooks every now and then. He just doesn’t want her to get caught though. But she’s safe! Really!!

They find Dabi a few months later. He’s older than them by 7 and 8 years respectively, and he’s kind of an asshole. But toga likes his spunk and disregard for the rules. And izuku likes that he doesn’t care about quirks

Dabi and toga shit talk katsuki and I will not be told otherwise. Izuku feels bad at first, but they kinda put it into perspective of like, “how would you feel if he was doing/saying this stuff to/about us?” And izuku just like >:0

Obviously it took a while, and he still doesn’t know that they made shirts with katsuki’s face in the 🚫 sign, but I like to imagine that they show up to pick izuku up from school wearing them and bakugku had a conniption

Toga and izuku don’t actually run away until toga’s graduation from middle school

Some of her classmates pulled a really asshole prank on her and she had a panic attack. She ran away from the ceremony thing and was later found by a frantic izuku and dabi (her brothers)

She told them that she couldn’t go back. That her parents were mad at, no, disgraced by her

Dabi was mad. “More bitch ass parents. The worlds just fucken’ full of them”

- dabi, 2xxx

He offers to kill them for her. Izuku tells him no :( shame.

Let’s just say that this is around the time bakugou says his infamous “swan dive” comment and the sludge villain incident (I know I think both toga running away and that whole deal would happen around the relative same few months, so let’s just push them together! Why not!)

And the three decide to pull a little disappearing act

Well. Mainly toga and izuku. Dabi pulled his disappearing stunt a while ago. He gives them pointers. Dramatic bitch

Let’s be real, the three of them are all dramatic bitches

Izuku leaves a letter to his mom, explaining that he’s sorry for putting her in such a difficult place, and that he hopes she can find happiness, and that he’ll miss her.

:((((((((((((

They end up crashing a couple towns away in an abandoned building. Not very safe, but. Abandoned. Sooo

Toga says that the building is just like them

Abandoned

Dabi tells her not to look too deeply into it, but izuku thinks about that statement a lot

Spinner and dabi both have like… 0 respect for heroes. -10 actually. But, spinner is quite interested by these three vagabond’s plan to expose corrupt heroes and make society a better place, so, he tags along.

Mr. Compress catches dabi trying to pick pocket someone.

It goes badly </3

Dabi’s slight of hand just needs a bit of practice, and who’s better to teach him than a world class thief?

No one. That’s who.

Mr. Compress cannot believe he’s going to have to parent these teens and young adults. Fuck man. Can he leave now? He didn’t ask for this, he just wanted to share some tricks to the next generation of thieves, now he’s listening to this green child explain their plot for world domination?!

Oh, what’s that? It’s not world domination? Fine. Guess he’s going to teach these four how to steal shit because he will not be caught dead with criminals who don’t know how to complete a heist

Obviously, they go after endeavor first.

They take great joy in destroying him.

What?? Just because they aren’t the league of villains doesn’t mean our vigilante crew doesn’t enjoy some sweet sweet revenge on those who have hurt their little make shift family!

Mr. Compress is not a dad. He’s just not.

Did he show izuku all his masks and listen to the boy nerd out about them and their different histories and design origins? Yes. Did he think it was adorable? Yes.

That means nothing though and you can’t prove anything!

Spinner and dabi are the “cool” big brothers

Read: fucking dumbasses with issues with authority

It’s fine

Toga and izuku are feral sinanon rolls with issues with authority

Mr. Compress went from following his father’s footsteps in living life as a thief to overthrowing the hero commission with these kids who are all over a decade younger than him

Love that for him.

Dabi learns how to make katsudon for izuku when he’s homesick

Izuku helps dabi and toga deal with their quirk issues

They have a few run ins with stain, (spinner fanboys)

Izuku starts making them gear!

I don’t know why I love izuku making gear and tech, but he’s just such a smart and chaotic lad that I think it’s perfect for him

Definitely hacks into U.A. And plays online chess with nezu

He’s getting better

Nezu has heard whispers of their little group, and is quite excited to see how everything plays out!

I hope you liked thisss!!! Again, I am SO SORRY that this took so long. I had it in my drafts for about a week and worked on it when I could, but brain and homework were djsjcinsignaj

I love this thoughhhh!! Sorry if spinner and mr. Compress are ooc, I really don’t remember their personalities too much 😅 but I hope it was okay anyway!!!

[musiclover1013]

Does anyone else think that their self harm scars are so pretty and beautiful. Like idk what it is but I'm proud of myself for making something that beautiful!

[broccoliboix5peepeeman]

Midoriya-sensei AU

Part 13: Kacchan

Part 12 | Ao3 | Part 14

Look... these past few manga chapters have really fucked with me and some parts of this fic and I'm super mad about it, but alas canon can go fuck itself. Also unreq tdbk lost the poll *sad trombone noise* Anymoo, happy Mido-sensei Monday [is actually tuesday now bc I fell asleep proof-reading] - I hope you enjoy ❤️ TWs for this chapter include: -PTSD -Breakdowns and dissociation -Self-loathing -Accidental injury

'Honey? What time are you going out?'

Upon hearing his mother's question, Izuku removed his headphones and turned to face her.

He was currently cluttering the dining table with his hero analysis notebooks, along with his laptop. Shoto had hired a new sidekick recently—who could adjust the temperature of anything they touched—so naturally, Izuku had spent the morning analysing the quirk in detail. He was heading to Himura Agency soon to visit Shoto, so he wanted to finish up so he could take his notebook with him.

'In about fifteen minutes.' He double-checked the time, confirming his response. 'Why?'

'Do you not want to start getting ready?' She tilted her head to the side with concern. 'I don't want you rushing.'

'I'm nearly done, it's okay.' He assured gently, albeit he could definitely understand where she was coming from. Once he got into his flow state, it was difficult emerging from the other side. 'I'm just gonna finish this page, and then I'll clean up. I've already got my bag ready, and I don't need to get changed.'

He patted his yellow backpack, situated under the table, and smiled. 'Satisfied?'

'Yeah, alright.' She huffed, good-naturedly. 'I just don't want you stressing. I know what you're like. Plus, last time, you rushed out so quickly that I had to clean the table for you.'

'That was one time!' He cried dramatically. 'And I said I was sorry! When will the suffering end?'

'Never.' His mother flashed him a serious expression, before her joking smile resurfaced. 'Anyway, I'm going to the library to return a book for one of my patients. Have fun!'

'You too! If you see Himura-san, tell her I said hi.' Izuku picked up his pen and resumed writing.

'Oh, Todoroki-san's mother?' She paused, stroking her chin, before seemingly realising something. 'Wait, the nice lady with the white hair is their mother? Why didn't you tell me sooner?'

'I assumed you'd figured it out by the fact that Shoto's agency is named after her?' Izuku answered slowly. 'And that she and Fuyumi look really similar.'

'You hush now!' She pouted, walking past him to go put her shoes on. 'I can't believe we could've been sharing embarrassing childhood stories together this whole time. I should go to the library more often. Better make up for lost time.'

'Wait, hang on-'

'Byeee!'

Izuku grumbled as the door shut behind his mother, but didn't dwell on it too much. In truth, he didn't mind what the two women spoke about—he was old enough now where he wasn't affected by people knowing about his All Might obsession, which was his mother's main go-to when it came to embarrassing him—he was just glad they had the opportunity to maybe become friends.

He continued his analysis for another five minutes, before using all of his self-restraint to call it a day and tidy everything away. Once packed up, he grabbed his bag, put on his red shoes, then left the apartment.

It was a decent walk to Himura Agency—around thirty-five minutes—but Izuku wouldn't begrudge a little exercise. The streets weren't particularly busy, a normal amount of bustle for a Sunday, so he weaved through the crowds with relative ease. Once the agency was in his sights, he felt a small smile grace his face, glad of the familiarity.

However, just as he was about to enter, his path was blocked by someone else leaving.

Izuku stepped to the side politely—using the time to quickly type out a message to Shoto, to let him know he was here—but the person continued to shadow over him. He pointedly didn't make eye contact, but frowned at the inconvenience. Why were they standing in the way?

'Deku.'

Instinctively, Izuku flinched so violently that he dropped his phone and jumped a couple of steps backwards.

That voice.

He finally looked up at the person he'd been patiently waiting to pass, only to find spiked blonde hair, familiar red eyes, and an orange and green hero suit that was featured on so many sports brands throughout Japan, he'd have to be living under a rock to miss it.

The hero Dynamight was a household name, after all, but it wasn't him who was addressing Izuku at that moment.

'K-Kach-chan?' The way his voice broke was humiliating, as was the way his body immediately began shaking. For years, he’d been conditioned to react a certain way under the scrutiny of his childhood bully; it made him sick to know their decade apart hadn't changed that in the slightest. ‘W-W-What are you doing here?’

A stupid question. There was a clear reason why the number five hero was just leaving the agency of the number two. ‘Ah, you don’t have to answer that. Of course, it’s obvious why you’re here. In fact, you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here, as that’s certainly more out of the ordinary. It’s just, I didn’t expect to see you as it’s been years and I’ll stop talking now. I’m sorry.’

Kacchan sighed. Izuku closed his eyes with a wince, anticipating a hit. However, it never came.

‘It has been a while.’

Hesitantly, he opened one eye to find Kacchan regarding him with a mixture of emotions; his eyes were squinted in his usual displeased manner, albeit the anger that had typically manifested when they were children was absent. Izuku wasn’t sure whether that made him more or less nervous.

The silence was agonising, yet he kept his lips sealed. He knew better than to start talking and risk suffering Kacchan’s wrath. Wistfully, he hoped Shoto would read his message and come out to meet him before anything could get out of hand.

Kacchan sighed again. ‘I was actually hoping to run into you at some point. I could’ve reached out sooner, but it would've been weird tracking you down.’

Izuku tilted his head to the side.

‘What?’

‘Don’t sound so shocked.’ As soon as he said it, it became evident that Kacchan knew that what he was ordering was unreasonable. He shook his head. ‘Look, we need to talk. Are you free now?’

Izuku’s head thudded and his stomach dropped with anxiety; he could feel adrenaline pulsing through his body. In the past, he'd learnt the hard way that going somewhere alone with Kacchan was never a good idea—not that he'd ever really had much of a choice in their teen years. Now, he was being given a choice, yet it still felt like an illusion: he knew Kacchan well enough to know that “no” wasn’t an option.

‘I’m just about to see Shoto-kun.’ He pointed towards the agency, hoping that an excuse would be met better than an outright rejection. ‘I don’t really want to keep him waiti-’

‘You know Half n Half?’ Kacchan frowned for the briefest of moments, before bending down to pick up Izuku's discarded phone. ‘Doesn’t matter. Look, it won’t take long. Come on.’

Before he could protest further, a large hand grabbed his tricep and guided him past the building and down the side alley. Izuku tried to level his breathing—in, two, three, four, and out, two, three, four—to prevent him hyperventilating and entering a panic attack. He couldn’t show any weakness right now; he had to be brave.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. He can’t hurt you, he’s a hero now. He tried to reason, desperately trying to ignore the other voice that reminded him of everything Endeavour had done to his family whilst working as a hero; of everything that had happened when they were children in the name of Kacchan wanting to be a hero.

He yearningly eyed his phone, still grasped in Kacchan’s hand. There was no calling for help. He was stuck.

After they passed some bins, he was finally released. 'That'll do.'

Izuku's back faced the wall, and he stared up at his old bully. He never did grow much taller; he still had the same colour trainers, and a backpack containing hero analysis notebooks. And of course, he was still quirkless, whereas Kacchan still defined himself through his explosions. Sure, he wasn't as over-excited and sadistic as he used to be, and his face had matured, but that didn't change facts.

Izuku was afraid.

It felt reminiscent of their middle school days: backed into a corner with nowhere to run, while Kacchan threatened to use his quirk on him. The only differences now were that they were older and one of them had a hero licence; and while he was hesitant to admit it, Izuku was also a lot stronger than he had been back then. Briefly, he entertained the thought that maybe—maybe—he could take Kacchan in a fight…

If the latter didn't have a quirk at his disposal.

'You wanted to talk?' He prompted, hoping the other would take the hint and explain, instead of just staring at him. 'What is it?'

'I can't just come out and say it!' Kacchan snapped, albeit there was little bite in it. He rubbed his brow. 'I just… Give me a sec.'

Izuku didn't have much of a choice, so he stayed where he was—body poised and ready to bolt at a moment’s notice—as Kacchan gathered his words.

'I did a lot of thinking over the years, about the way I treated you.' He started, slowly. 'I fucked up. I was a piece of shit.'

Izuku said nothing; he frowned, confused.

Where is this going?

Kacchan let out a frustrated groan.

'I realise now—why I did everything that I did. It's just, you were obviously meant to be behind me... but in a lot of ways, it also felt like you were ahead of me too.' Kacchan paused. 'I didn't like it. I didn't want to see you, so I bullied you to get away from you; to feel superior. I was scared… scared of you. Not in a prissy way obviously, but I hated how… stupidly heroic you were. You'd put yourself in stupid situations to try and help people and it made me mad, because it was supposed to be me whose body moved without thinking. I wanted to protect you from yourself, put you back in your place before you went and killed yourself, but I was wrong for what I did.

'I got my way back then, you failed at becoming a hero, yet I failed in my own goal. I wanted to be on top—I still do—but in order to do that, I have to get better. I have to recognise my mistakes and atone.

'So, that being said. Dek- Izuku… I wanted to apologise.' Kacchan hung his head. 'For everything I did to you.'

Izuku's body shook, whilst his heart pounded against his chest—so violent it hurt; his nails dug into his palms from how hard he was clenching his fists. He didn't know what to think—which probably reflected in his dumbfounded expression—it just didn't make sense. All these years, he'd had nothing, then suddenly… this? Kacchan was… sorry?

'Ha. Good one, Kacchan.' He laughed hollowly, then quickly slipped past the blonde with the intention of leaving. If this was some kind of elaborate prank, then he wanted to get a head start before he became the punchline. 'You almost had me. Anyway, nice seeing you, but I really have to go.'

'I mean it.' Kacchan didn't shout, but his voice carried; firm. 'I'm sorry.'

Izuku stilled, throat swelling as he forced his emotions to remain at bay. At first, he wouldn't—couldn't—believe it, but now he was faced with reality: Kacchan was actually apologising.

He wanted to ignore him. He wanted to keep walking. He wanted to forget this ever happened.

He didn't do any of that.

'You're not serious?' Izuku murmured, lips feeling foreign, as he turned around to face him. 'Is this a joke?'

Kacchan met his eyes and growled.

'Do I look like I'm fucking joking?!'

Izuku's arms shot up to protect himself, but the threat never came.

'Shit.' Kacchan at least had the decency to look guilty. 'Calm down, I'm not gonna hit you, and I'm not joking. I mean it.'

Izuku slowly lowered his arms.

He was conflicted. He knew he should be happy with the apology—it should be cathartic and he should admire how much Kacchan had grown. The right thing to do would be to forgive him, but as compassionate as people thought him to be and as much as he tried to be kind, resentment sprouted from the pit of his stomach.

'Why?'

'Why?' Kacchan echoed, sounding physically pained. 'I just told you why! It was a whole speech!'

Izuku's pulse drummed against his temples; his jaw clenched. Distantly, he heard a vibration.

'Cut the bullshit.' The words were out of his mouth before he could comprehend them.

'Hah?!' Kacchan started to exclaim, then caught himself, lowering the volume. 'It's not bullshit.'

'It is. It's all excuses.' Izuku gripped his hair and shook his head, surprised by his own nerve. He wanted to tell his brain to shut up. He wanted to forget this interaction all together—what was he doing? 'If you're s-sorry, then just say it. Don't try to justify it.'

'But I need you to understand why.' Kacchan argued, like it was obvious. 'I was trying to-'

'You've had a long time to think about this, to try and rationalise it.' Izuku interrupted, eye twitching from barely-repressed anxiety. He couldn't get his voice to stop trembling. 'But at the end of the day, Kacchan, y-you bullied me because I was- am quirkless.'

This time, it wasn't him who flinched.

'That's… that's not…'

'Isn't it?' He smiled wobbly. 'It wasn’t because I was useless D-Deku who couldn't fight back?'

His throat closed up, betraying him. 'I was an easy target. You say wanted to protect me from myself? You were my worst nightmare, and we both know that if I had a quirk, you wouldn't have done what you did.'

He had so many scars, so much mental baggage that he was still unravelling with his therapist after several years. He might not look after himself as well as he should sometimes, but that was irrelevant right now; it was always the same insults being thrown at him.

Useless, quirkless Deku.

'You d-don't need to pretend you did it with honourable intentions.' He shook his head slowly. 'If you genuinely regret what you did, just tell me. I might not have much self-preservation… but I don't think I deserve excuses.'

He bit his lip, waiting for a reaction. Initially, Kacchan remained silent, staring at him. Izuku wasn't sure if he was thinking of a response or waiting for something. Again, he could hear an indiscernible vibration.

'Okay.' Kacchan finally responded. 'No excuses… I- I'm sorry.'

A beat passed, then another. Izuku wanted to feel something, yet his mind—despite the adrenaline going through his body—felt numb.

'I accept your apology.' He forced his mouth to move, keeping his resolve. 'Th-'

'Midoriya?'

His head whipped around so fast his neck clicked. Shoto was walking towards them, slightly rushed and phone in hand. The first aid supplies on his belt clicked together from the momentum, as did his boots against the concrete.

When he came to a stop in front of Izuku, those dichromatic eyes scanned him carefully. 'Are you okay?'

He nodded, not trusting this voice.

Shoto's shoulders slumped with relief, then looked past Izuku to see who he was with. His eyes immediately narrowed. 'Bakugou? What are you doing here?'

Kacchan scoffed.

'Dek- u- Izuku and I were just having a private conversation.' He answered brashly. 'None of your fucking business, Half n Half.'

Shoto stepped past Izuku, putting himself between him and the blonde. It was almost a defensive shield, which he had to admit, he was grateful for.

'Then why have you got Midoriya's phone?'

Izuku's eyes widened—the vibration sound he had been hearing on and off—Shoto had been ringing him this entire time?

'Because he dropped it.' Kacchan stepped forward, holding out the device, which Izuku hesitantly took. 'Fuck off with the interrogation, Todoroki. I thought you hated cops, so stop sounding like one.'

'I don't need to be a pig to worry about my friend.' Shoto quipped, before switching his gaze to Izuku. 'Midoriya, are you ready to go or should I give you another few minutes?'

The idea of spending another few minutes alone with Kacchan was enough to make him feel nauseous, but he also didn’t want to convey that in his answer.

Don’t cry. Be brave. Don’t show them how weak you are.

‘Yeah, I’m ready now.’ He spoke quietly. ‘We’re done now, right, Kacchan?’

Crimson eyes regarded him carefully, before he waved his hand dismissively.

‘Whatever. I’ve said everything I needed to say anyway. I’m going home.’ Kacchan strode past them, towards the main street. However, before he could disappear completely, he called back. 'I've changed, Izuku. I won't ask you to believe me, but just… watch me, and I'll prove it to you.'

Izuku didn't reply, other than a slight nod of acknowledgement, and Kacchan made his exit with a grunt. Now that they were left alone, he felt a new sense of numbness wash over him; his eyes glazed over; his muscles refused to move.

Panic consumed him briefly. He didn't know what was happening. He didn't feel in control of his own body, yet instead of fighting it, all he could do was succumb to the way his senses slowly shut down. His mind soon followed after, rescinding the last of his perceived independent thoughts.

Powerless. Useless Deku. Weak-

‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ Shoto was in front of him again, but Izuku couldn’t focus. It took several seconds of silence before his friend cursed. ‘Shit, okay. Let’s get you up to my office… Can you still hear me?'

He couldn’t speak, but he did manage a slight nod.

'That's good. Okay, one more question: are you comfortable with me carrying you?’

Izuku nodded again, eyes falling shut of their own accord. He wasn't sure why he was acting this way—his episodes usually manifested into hyperactivity—but he couldn't even begin to analyse his behaviour right now. All he could do was focus on Shoto's body as the hero guided him into a piggyback and lifted him up with a slight grunt.

His arms rested on Shoto’s shoulders, while the strong hands under his legs held him up. Izuku's chest pressed against his friend's back—he tried to concentrate on the temperature contrast, which manifested into him resting his forehead against the left crook of Shoto's neck.

The warmth felt safe.

Had he not been stuck in his head, Izuku would have definitely panicked over their proximity. Instead, his body welcomed the touch with open arms; it was grounding. It also helped that Shoto didn't stiffen or reject him. He encouraged Izuku.

'I won't drop you, but try to hold on.' He murmured gently. 'Ready?'

When Izuku nodded, Shoto bent his knees, then jumped into the air, using fire from his left foot to send them higher. It didn't take long before they landed on the agency balcony, and Shoto slid open the door to his office.

Izuku kept his face firmly pressed against his friend's neck, until he was gently coaxed to sit down on the tatami floor and shed his backpack from his shoulders. He felt significantly lighter without it—his body had gotten used to the weight—but he didn't let the uncanny feeling linger for long, before he returned to nothing.

'I'm still here.' Shoto assured him gently. 'Just give me one second.'

The world was bright when Izuku tried opening his eyes in response, and he winced. Before he could squeeze them shut and resign himself to darkness again, Shoto pulled the hanging curtain framing the balcony door half-shut, bathing them in a dimmer, manageable light.

Izuku exhaled—the closest he could come to conveying his thanks—then watched as Shoto moved around the room, looking in drawers, on shelves and even Izuku's own backpack. Eventually, when his friend approached him once more and knelt in front of him, his arms were full.

'I've got some things that I know help me when I have a catatonic breakdown.' He shuffled slightly. 'I know this probably isn't the same, but yeah. And I know it's rude, but I also got some stuff from your bag because you've mentioned before that you have comfort items in there. Try to let me know if you're uncomfortable with anything.'

Shoto waited a moment, before taking two large pillows, placing them behind Izuku and switching on a remote, which made them start vibrating softly—like a purring cat. He then picked up a fluffy cream blanket and wrapped it around Izuku's body like a cape, making sure to cover most of his front too.

Izuku found himself leaning back against the materials, which cushioned the wall behind him, as Shoto started playing rain sounds from a portable speaker. He then handed Izuku his favourite All Might-themed stress ball that he always carried with him.

It was practically a reflex, the way his hand closed around it and started squeezing.

‘Th-Thanks.’ He spoke, matching each syllable with his wrist movements. It wasn’t much, but it was progress. ‘Helps.’

‘I’m glad.’ His friend replied. ‘Do you want to stay like this for a while, or do you want to try some grounding exercises?’

Izuku was aware enough to recognise that he wanted to escape this feeling as quickly as he could, but realistically, he knew that he needed a little longer.

‘F-few minutes.’

‘Okay.’ Shoto slowly got to his feet. ‘I’ll just be at my desk doing some paperwork. I'm not on-call, so take as much time as you need… unless there's suddenly a national emergency.’

On a normal day, Izuku would've laughed.

For the next half an hour, the office was quiet, if not for Shoto's fingers on the keyboard and the tropical storm playing from the speakers. Izuku, for the most part, clung onto the mindlessness—not wanting to acknowledge what had happened nor what was currently happening—but soon, his internal monologue started to resurface; it never liked being quiet for long.

He supposed he'd have to face everything sooner or later.

‘Shoto?’

His friend looked up from his computer, then locked the screen and approached him once more. He sat down in front of Izuku, crossing his legs and tucking his hair behind his ears.

‘You ready to do some grounding exercises?’ He waited for Izuku’s nod, before continuing. ‘Okay, you probably know this one, but can you tell me five things you can see?’

He did know this exercise—he’d applied it to both himself and his students in the past—so the familiarity was comforting.

‘Y-you.’ He started with the obvious. ‘Bookcase… bonsai tree… computer… charred table.’

‘Good job, but don’t worry about the chabudai.’ Shoto’s cheeks darkened slightly. ‘Four things you can feel?’

Izuku had always been sensitive to touch, despite what his high pain tolerance might've implied, so he felt more confident with this one.

‘Stress ball, blanket, pillows… tatami.’

‘That was a lot quicker.’ Shoto furrowed his brow. ‘It’s good touch, right?’

‘Yeah.’ The corner of Izuku's lips quirked up for a moment in an attempt to be reassuring. 'Thank you.'

His friend nodded his head in acknowledgement.

'Three things you can hear?'

'Your voice.' He began, without giving it much thought. 'The rain noises… and my own voice.'

He was slowly starting to feel more like himself—his movements became fluid as he squeezed the stress ball, and his eyes were more focused than they had been. It wasn’t like being trapped in a bubble, it was more like a viscous liquid had been clouding his surroundings and was finally starting to evaporate.

'Two things you can smell?'

'Peppermint.' Courtesy of the teapot next to him. 'And you. The room smells like you.'

He desperately wished his filter would return before he could embarrass himself further. Luckily, Shoto didn’t seem to mind the comment.

‘That makes sense. After all, I’m the only one who works in this room.’ He paused for a few beats. 'Okay, last one: one thing you can taste? Don't worry if you can't think of anything. You've done really well.'

Usually, when Izuku was the one asking, he skipped that final sense. After all, most people would just reply with a confused “the inside of my mouth?”, but he supposed it was worth acknowledging.

'I…’ He paused as his taste buds identified iron. ‘I can… I can taste blood?'

Ignoring Shoto’s concerned look, Izuku poked his tongue around his mouth, until he found a freshly bitten wound. 'I must've started chewing the inside of my cheek at some point without realising… It happens a lot, I just don't usually register what I'm doing till after the damage is done, but it's nothing to worry about.'

His friend’s worry didn’t seem to dissipate upon hearing that, but after a few moments, he ultimately decided to let the issue slide.

‘That’s a conversation for another day.’ Izuku wasn’t sure which of them Shoto was promising that to. 'At least you're more vocal now. How do you feel?'

That was a loaded question. How was Izuku supposed to begin answering that?

Shoto seemed to read his thoughts. ‘That was a bad question. I’ll be more specific, what’s the first thing that comes to mind when I ask, “how do you feel”?’

‘Shit.’ Izuku snorted without mirth. However, that seemed to be the gateway for an elaboration. ‘I’ve never reacted this way before. It’s always been more erratic, not… yeah. I hated it. I couldn’t control my body.’

‘I can understand that.’ Shoto was earnest. ‘The first time it happened to me was during a training session with Endeavour when I was a child. The stress was too much, so my body shut down… only okaasan could get me out of it, but it took hours. I barely remember it, only that I was scared.’

‘That sounds awful.’ Izuku lowered his eyes.

‘Yeah, but my point isn’t to gain your sympathy, it’s to show that you’re not alone.’ Shoto paused. ‘You can talk to me… about anything.’

Izuku gnawed the inside of his cheek, before forcing himself to stop damaging the already wounded area.

He trusted Shoto—he really did—but he didn’t deserve to listen to Izuku’s turmoil; his friend had gone through so much worse that his own struggles paled in comparison. However, he remembered some of their earlier conversations, and how Shoto never flinched when he’d explained his failed dream of becoming a hero. He thought about all the times his friend had been open with him and accommodating when he spoke.

Izuku trusted Shoto… so maybe he should trust that he knew what he was signing up for.

‘I just… seeing him again after so long and with no warning.’ He began, trying to piece his words together. ‘I told myself to just get through the interaction, but I didn’t expect to spiral like this.’

‘I should’ve told you he was at the agency.’ Shoto pursed his lips, guilty. ‘It wasn’t scheduled in or anything, but when he showed up, I should’ve messaged you.’

‘It’s not your responsibility—you didn’t know I’d react that way. Plus, if I’m your friend then I guess I should’ve been prepared to run into him at some point.’ Izuku was quick to argue, but when he took a breath, he couldn’t help but sigh. ‘As you’re probably aware, we weren’t exactly best friends… Well, we used to be, before his quirk came in and I was diagnosed as quirkless.’

Shoto nodded deliberately, prompting Izuku to continue.

‘I used to follow him around a lot—he was familiar, and I didn’t really understand that I wasn’t wanted anymore—and soon, Kacchan started to make it more obvious that he didn’t want me around. He had a lot more friends—ones with cool quirks that would obey him—and I was… pushed around a lot.'

He intentionally omitted the specific details: verbal taunts and physical attacks. He didn't want to incriminate Kacchan more than he already had. After all, it was in the past now.

Izuku pressed his palms to his eyes. 'I just… I admired him so much—he had a great quirk and the bravery of a hero, and we both loved All Might—but… but I hated him.'

His voice turned into a whisper. 'I really did, and that somehow made everything worse because I really tried not to. Heroes aren’t meant to hate people… But I kept trying to placate him, hoping that he’d leave me be, but when it came to applying for high schools, I just couldn't simply make him happy.’

'He told you not to apply for UA, right?' Shoto asked, albeit it was obvious he knew the answer.

'Yeah.' Izuku replied anyway. 'Things got unbearable when I refused. The things he'd say, the things he'd do.' He swallowed thickly. 'It doesn't matter. When he got into UA and I didn't, that was it. Everyone laughed at me, because I never stood a chance in the first place. After we graduated, I never saw him again… until today.'

Ten years…

It had been so long, and as much as he tried to forget, he couldn't. He still had nightmares; he still flinched at loud, sharp noises; he still struggled with his self-worth.

He still had the scars.

His throat prickled, but he persevered, pulling back and staring at his hands instead of Shoto; he couldn’t bear to see his reaction just yet. 'He took me down that alley—I didn't want to, but I felt like I didn't have a choice—and I thought he was going to hurt me; follow through with one of his old threats- I shouldn't say that.'

He sighed, frustrated at himself. 'Anyway, instead… he apologised to me. Actually apologised. Like, it wasn’t a joke! I should've been happy. I should've forgiven him.'

Izuku dared not continue that sentence. Admitting it out loud would just solidify that he was a bad person.

'But you couldn't forgive him.'

Izuku broke.

For the first time today, tears built up, breaking the surface tension and running down his face without restraint. An accompanying sob escaped his lips and Izuku finally allowed himself to cry. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, like his reputation implied: he brought his knees up to his chest and buried his head in his arms to muffle his already quiet sounds—just like when he was little and tried not to draw attention to himself.

Part of his mind was screaming that even this was too much; he couldn't cry like this in front of anyone, not alone Todoroki Shoto. What would he think of him? How could Izuku show just how weak and pathetic he really was?

Yet those thoughts only led to more tears; more baggage to throw onto the already crushing pile.

He held his breath then, trying desperately to quell the crying, but it was futile. He only succeeded in making himself lightheaded and congested. His nose started to run and saliva built up in his mouth.

'I don't know how best to help you.' His friend admitted, just loud enough to be heard over Izuku's own thoughts. 'But I do know that it's okay to cry. I'm not judging you.'

How was he supposed to respond to that? Shoto was so kind; so understanding. He wasn't disgusted or disdainful.

But he should be….

'Would you-' Shoto hesitated. '-erm, like a hug… or something?'

Izuku's eyes immediately shot up to stare at him, exposing his gross face in all its glory.

'W-w-what?'

Shoto didn't seem put off by the snot and tears, albeit he did rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

'A hug, would you like one?' He clarified, confirming that Izuku had indeed heard him correctly. 'It's just… I'm not good with words, but I know physical contact can help alleviate pain. So I thought I'd offer.'

If this were a typical day, Izuku would turn bright red, stutter so much that he couldn't get his words out, and probably overthink to the point of exhaustion. However, this wasn't a typical day; while his face was blotchy and his mind was both overthinking and exhausted, he couldn't fathom his awkward crush right now.

In front of him was his friend—whom he adored in a way so unique—offering comfort, and Izuku was starving.

'Please.' He whispered, blinking as more tears stained his cheeks. He then wrapped his arms around his thighs and rested his forehead against his knees.

He could hear Shoto shuffle closer until they were side-by-side. After a moment, he shifted the blanket to accommodate them both, and slowly wrapped his arms around Izuku; one hand splayed out across his back, while the other reached around the front to cup the side of Izuku's head. Shoto then gently guided him to lean against his chest.

Izuku's entire body moved with him, putting all his weight against his friend, who willingly shouldered the burden with ease. In fact, he even rested his cheek atop his curls.

The relief was instantaneous: his body relaxed—basking in the positive touch—and a fresh sob escaped his lips. Shoto rubbed his shoulder with encouragement; repetitive, but soothing.

Izuku wasn't sure how much time they spent that way—quiet if not for his muffled sniffling—before his friend spoke again.

'I won't pretend to know what you've been through.' He murmured, each word careful. 'So feel free to tell me to fuck off, but I think, if you can't forgive him now, that's okay.'

Reactively, Izuku opened his mouth to counter, albeit Shoto beat him to it.

'And if you can't forgive him in a few months, a few years or never, that's okay too.'

Izuku's words died on his tongue and he swallowed heavily. It was like the entire concept was new: he never even considered a scenario where it was acceptable not to forgive Kacchan. After all, it was what the world preached—forgiveness was part of being a hero.

A sudden thought emerged.

'Have you forgiven Endeavour for everything?' He asked quietly. 'Not that you need to tell me.'

Shoto didn't answer straight away, contemplating the question first.

'No.' While the answer was firm, his tone sounded thoughtful. ‘And that’s okay too. It doesn't make me less of a hero.’

‘You don’t think you’re a bad person because of it?’ Izuku’s eyes widened, and he shook his head, almost jumping out of Shoto’s hold. ‘Not that I’m implying that you’re a bad person! You’re a very kind person and I think you’re amazing! Just… that was a pointless question.’

Shoto blinked once, lowering his arms.

‘He’s changed, which I accept and welcome, and we've moved on, but that doesn’t erase the past and the damage he's caused. I’ve forgiven myself, and that's enough for me.’ He scratched his cheek. ‘So, no. I don’t think I’m bad.’

Izuku nodded slowly. It made perfect sense—it was similar to his situation Kacchan—but convincing himself and rationalising his thoughts was still arduous.

‘I think I understand.’ He wiped away his tears, feeling more at ease. ‘Sorry for being like this.’

‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ Shoto was adamant; unyielding. ‘I’m just glad I could help.’

His small smile ignited a fresh wave of emotion through Izuku—his usual flustered affection for Shoto returning in full force. Mentally, he kicked himself for pulling out of their hug sooner than necessary.

‘Y-you did. Thank you.’ He flashed his own wobbly smile. ‘You’re…’

Perfect, amazing, I think I’m fall-

‘A great friend.’ He finished, admiring Shoto’s reddening ears.

‘You too, Midoriya.’

Falling...

🔥🔥🔥

Me [1740]: Just fyi next time I see you I am going to personally ram my foot so far up your arse you’re shitting icicles for weeks

Bastard Gremlin [1742]: Fuck off Icyhot

Me [1743]: Like I knew you were an asshole but really?

Bastard Gremlin [1749]: Deku told you everything then

Me [1751]: Left out some finer details but yh

Me [1751]: Enough for me to piece together the rest

Bastard Gremlin [1752]: Why do you even care?

Bastard Gremlin [1752]: How do you even know him?

Me [1753]: He's my friend. That's all you need to know, so dont bother replying.

Shoto stared at the screen a moment longer. In truth, he wanted to say more, maybe even follow through with his initial message, but Midoriya would get upset, so Shoto reluctantly put his phone away. However, as soon as it was secured in his pocket, it buzzed again. Rolling his eyes, he took out the device, expecting a snarky retort.

Instead, he was met with a pleasant surprise.

Midoriya 🙏🔥 [1754]: Thank you for today, really

Me [1755]: You don't have to keep thanking me

Midoriya 🙏🔥 [1756]: I know but I want to

Shoto's lips twitched with fond amusement.

'Texting Midoriya again?' Fuyumi commented dryly, not even looking up from the homework she was marking next to him. 'You're both insufferable.'

'You started it.'

Me [1758]: You can thank me by relaxing and going to bed at a normal time tonight

Midoriya 🙏🔥 [1759]: I take it all back I hate u

Me [1759]: You love me 😇

Shoto paused then, cheeks heating up as he stared at his message. Why was he suddenly so warm? Why did anxiety pool in his stomach after he sent that message? Why was he getting more nervous the longer it took for a reply to come through?

He was just making friendly banter, like his old classmates taught him, yet it felt more significant when he was saying it to Midoriya.

Midoriya 🙏🔥 [1802]: I guesssssss 🙄

Shoto immediately felt himself relax; his stomach fluttering in a way that had started to become a common occurrence around his friend. He wasn’t sure if it was a bi-product of his quirk, now that he was using his fire more often, but it was strange that it was only when Midoriya was around.

Midoriya 🙏🔥 [1804]: Hey, I thought Id ask,you don’t have to or anything, but the HQA information session at the school is on tues and I was wondering, if you’re free, it’d be good to see you there? Even if you wore a disguise or something. Totally okay if not though!

Shoto tilted his head to the side, processing the message. He and Fuyumi had spoken about the session a lot over the past few weeks, but they'd given no indication that they wanted him there—why the change of heart?

'Fuyu-nee, Midoriya's inviting me to the HQA session.' He told his sister, not really sure what he was expecting her to say. 'Should I go?'

'I mean, you can if you want.' Fuyumi shrugged, albeit not dismissively. 'Whether it's supporting him or advocating your own knowledge, it might help. I certainly have no problem with it.'

Shoto nodded slowly in thanks, then turned back to his phone. He supposed in asking his sister, he was really just looking for validation, because of course, if Midoriya was inviting him to something, then he'd happily accept; he was just glad Fuyumi thought he was making the right choice.

Me [1807]: I'll be there :)

[cow-stealin-gal]

I have a List

📝

It’s titled;

Things that I would beat myself over

Breathing wrong around people

Inappropriate thoughts that are out of my control

looking at people wrong

Accidental rudeness

Beefing with my younger sisters

dropping something

something hurts so I must hurt myself on the spot to cure it

No reason

[askzayneforeseerfrost]

why aren’t I good enough?

Who said you're good enough?!

Is it, voices in your head said that? Well, if that so.. I reassuring you, you're enough, don't say anything depressing, you're enough..

The voices in your head just telling something bad, ignore it, you're enough and worth it, stop self deprecating yourself it's only makes you feel worse and worse.

You are enough, and you're worth to live, don't let your dark thoughts defeat you way easily like snowstorm.. you're more stronger than that.

After all... If anything happens I'm here for you, and you're not alone, you're free to tell me anything to make you feel better.

[alephnol]

yo, umm…

You know that feeling where you remember something around a month or so ago and you feel sour about it again..?

Yeah. Im feeling that with the emotional blogs again.. why do the medics hate me so much..? Why do i fuck up friendships?

Ugh.. its like, i have so many friends, but it kinda hurts, ya know.

Worse is i cant.. i still feel shitty about it. Like, with tckhicken.. i dont know how i fucked up the tiny friendship we had so bad that she blocked me on two blogs..

I just seem to suck sometimes, idk…

.

Its not supposed to feel like a big deal, i was probably just annoying.. but it hurts still. Like a phantom pain i guess…

[monstergoreguts]

VENT POST TW://

Sooo I've been having some self image issues lately. Mainly my tummy area. I know lately media has made it like oh fat is beautiful but to me I have trouble with it. I wasn't alway this big. I'm about 325 ibs and it bothers the shit out of me. I'm working with doctors and I think it's thyroid but this is getting to me mentally. I'm grossed out with myself to were it's hard for me to get intimate with my bf. I know he doesn't mind and he thinks I'm beautiful ( he doesn't say it but yeah). I dress up in my goth thing to feel pretty but deep down I feel like a pile of flesh with black tarp. I don't know. I haven't felt this way before. I'm active a lot and moving a lot I don't excise regularly. I try to eat healthy but that costs money that I don't have. I know physical appearance shouldn't make you happy but when it's starts to mess with you mentally it's rough. I haven't really talked about it to anyone. I've told my bf that I feel gross or that I'm fat and I get shhh don't worry about it. Its a lot deeper then just trying to soothe the thoughts. I get intrusive thoughts about gutting my stomach though I've never self harmed at all it's just my brain wanting it gone. I'm sorry for anyone who has read this I just need some advice or something idk.

Thanks

[fennel-tea-and-nightshade]

Silly things Eli just ✨️😍says🤪✨️

((Serious trigger warning for: talk about mental illness, alot of self degradation, sui metions))

"Think about Bianca! If I end it now, I won't be able to hurt anyone else. Ever thought about that?"

"I don't deserve you...you're too good for me..."

"It's not going to get better! It's just going to get worse! If I change, I'll just change for the worse anyway."

"I know I'm terrible...and I know I'm disgusting and wrong and will never ever be normal..."

"I know. And I ruined it."

[giggly-squiggily]

onagawa and masamune from backflip for the sentence starter event‼️‼️ (probs plantonic?)

pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

masamune tickles onagawa cuz he's being self deprecating ("why'd he [the ace - i cant remember his name, sorry] come to a school like ours?")

sorry if its not really how i should make requests cuz this is my first time 😭😭

AHHH BACKFLIP!!! I love it!!! Onagawa needing cheer up tickles? You got it anon! :D

CW: Self deprecation

“Man, why did Misato have to come to a school like ours?”

Masamune froze, feeling his eyebrows shoot up at the unusually snarky comment. “Onagawa?”

“He’s just so talented! Like- prodigy talented!” The blonde leaned in his hands a deep pout spreading over his lips as he watched the younger boy perform graceful tumbles and flips in the distance. “Meanwhile here I am making the same mistakes over and over, shaving off what could have been a perfect score. I bet if he applied for Shiro High, he’d do far better.” Tears welled up in Onagawa’s eyes, and he ducked his head lower to hide them. “He wouldn’t have a teammate like me preventing him from earning the first place spot.”

Oh. The captain felt his chest ping, any anger he felt shifting to sympathy as he took in his friend's words. Dropping to the floor beside him, he threw an arm around the other boy’s shoulders, tugging him into a hug. “Don’t talk so poorly about yourself. You’re not holding anybody back from first place. We all have things we’re shaky on; and it’s those things as a collective that prevent us from reaching a perfect score. You’re doing amazing, and you keep getting better by the day. Don’t let a bad spot make you forget the rest of the good within you.”

Onagawa nodded, not trusting his voice. Masamune tsked softly as he rubbed his back, letting his hand slide towards his side.

“Aren’t you a Ma-chan fanatic? Shouldn’t you be smiling just as brightly as her?” He curled his fingers, smiling when the blonde shot up with a giggly gasp. “Come on- laugh!”

“Doohohn’t, Mahahhasamuuuhune! Ahehahaha, I dohoohn’t whhahant to lahuhuhgh!” Despite his complaints, the blonde was giggling like crazy, half fighting the hand latched onto his side as it tickled away. “Stahhahap, it tihihihickles!”

“Stop being such a hater towards yourself and I’ll let you go!” The redhead chided back, grinning from ear to ear as Onagawa fell into lap. “Yo- Tsukidate! Get over here and help me!”

“On it!” The gray haired teen called back, quickly closing the gap and joining the fray. Onagawa let out a pitiful squeal before dissolving into cackles. It was loud enough to draw attention from the remaining teammates.

“What’s happening with Onagawa-san?” Shotaro asked, wide eyed as he watched the three third years duke it out. “Should we help him?”

“I wouldn’t.” Misato shook his head, jumping some when Watari threw his arms around their shoulders.

“Third year business. Let them be.” He grinned, turning them both to the mats once more with the promise of showing them a cool handstand trick he picked up.

By the end of practice, Onagawa was back to his usual self, if not a bit tired.

Mission accomplished.

Send me a sentence starter and I'll write a dabble for you! :D

[the-therapist-construct]

that person was... wrong about you.

-@suns3t-rul3r

Why is he talking to me?.. Isn't he mad..?

S-she's definitely not wrong about me looking like a sad puppy though..I should change my profile some time..and well I can't exactly pull off that..uh confidence thing.

And maybe she's right.. maybe I am bad at my job- and- and that's not fine..! I should- I probably get that checked..

[playerappreciationweek]

Countdown to Posting Teaser

Author: @citrineleaf

Prompt: Day 5, “For Carmen’s safety, right?”

Content Warnings: Self-worth/Deprecating thoughts, sacrificial thoughts/mentions of sacrificing yourself for the greater good.

Summary: Fighting against VILE, for the good of the world, involves an inherent sacrifice. You abandon your old lives, you push yourself to the limit. And, sometimes, you figure out when you've just done more harm than good. You make the decision to leave, because it's better for everyone. ... Carmen doesn't agree with that.

Teaser:

Player follows his friends’ examples, and he makes sacrifices.

For them, it had been dramatic. Running away from their lives as they knew it – Ivy and Zack from Boston, Carmen and Shadowsan from VILE – and then fighting. Spending every day being beaten up over and over again in an exhaustive roulette to stay one step ahead of people who only exist for themselves.

They exist for everyone. For the whole world as they know it.

For Player, it happens in smaller things, in skipped meals and squirreled bits of sleep, he pushing himself further and further. He finds a sleep schedule more akin to a bat than a teenager, staying up later and later. More than once, he spends several days only waking up after the sun’s already set, because the team is in an awkward time zone and he needs to do his job.

There are others, too, when things are calmer, and he lets his mind wander. Another hacker might be faster than him, another hacker might not have to worry about homeschooling or half a dozen other things, but he’s good enough. Or, at least, that’s what he hopes.

… Hoped, now.

Because he isn’t good enough. Not for his team.