#but also I guess you have a lot of confidence if you’re blazing your selfies idk

[raskies456]

james Holden looking guy blazing his selfies to my dash???????

[satyr-syd]

Seconds after Sero stepped into the blazing heat of the summer sun, sweat already pooling at the base of his spine under his thin tank-top, it began to snow.

Chilly pin-pricks dotted the back of his back. A gust of wind manifested out of nowhere and whipped against his tragically exposed sides. He held out his hand and watched as tiny white specks melted on his sweaty palm. Sero looked up, but the sun still beat down, unhindered by a single wisp of cloud. Goosebumps pimpled down his arms.

Well this sucks.  

He was supposed to meet Todoroki in the quad five minutes ago for their daily study session (Sero had many charming qualities, and being fashionably late was one of them). Ever since their dorm’s AC had been tragically annihilated in an acid-related incident that Sero had absolutely no part in whatsoever, the quad was the best place to study. Outside, there was at least the suggestion of a breeze.

Okay, so it was a bit more than a suggestion now. More like a firm instruction, edging on harsh demand.

Sero rubbed his arms together, elbows tight against his poor exposed sides. Man oh man was he not a fan of winter. Winter meant trying to find the one jacket in the entire mall that suited his specific physique and hoping they still stocked it in his size. Where did the snow even come from? Why did it have to be now of all times? If he tried to make himself a jacket out of his tape would it actually work this time?

While Sero stood there freezing his ass off like an idiot instead of like, going back inside, a white-and-red head made its way through the quad to him.

read on ao3

fic art by @kim-namzoom!!!

“Hanta,” Todoroki greeted. His hair, grown lovingly past his shoulders in the spirit of spite (“My father despises it,” Todoroki had announced proudly after returning from winter break their second year), laid over his shoulder in a loose braid. Sero wondered who’d braided it for him. It looked nice.

By then, an icy sheen coated the ground and the wind blew loud enough to howl in his ear, and the nails on Sero’s fingers began to purple. “Dude, is this you?” Sero asked.

Todoroki shook his head. He stood close, nearly shoulder to shoulder. “I don’t know how to make snow.”

“Huh,” Sero said. “You should learn how. Then we could have snow cones like every day.”

Todoroki held out his hand - the right one - next to Sero’s.Whereas the snowflakes melted into watery mush in Sero’s palm after a few moments, they held their shape in Todoroki’s, forming a lacy layer of crystals over his slender fingers.

“Do you like snowcones?” Torodoki asked.

Sero shrugged. “Dunno, never had one.”

“Neither have I.”

Present Mic’s voice burst through the loudspeakers. “THERE HAS BEEN A QUIRK MISHAP! SORRY FOR THE UNFORESEEN WEATHER, KIDDOS! PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO YOUR ROOMS WHILE WE FIGURE OUT WHAT’S HAPPENING.”

The few students still standing outside slowly filed indoors.

“Maybe one of the first years?” Sero asked.

“Probably,” Todoroki said. He held up his hand. “They’re the ones most lacking in control...and yet, overflowing with arrogance.”

“Wow, sounds like someone I knew in first year.”

Todoroki nodded sagely. “Bakugou was certainly a handful.”

“I know you know who I was talking about,” Sero said, poking his shoulder.

Todoroki smirked. It was just the slight quirk of his lips, barely visible unless you knew to look for it. Sero knew to look. He’s seen that smile a lot, these days. Which was great, because Todoroki had a wonderful smile, but also not great, because whenever he made Todoroki smile, his heart doki-doki ’d so hard that he was positive Todoroki could hear it.

See, asking Todoroki to tutor him had been a highly calculated move that had not one, but two purposes: first, Sero was, is, and (if we’re being honest) probably always will be a terrible student and if there was any chance of him getting decent grades his last year of high school, he needed a tutor. He could have asked the other top-scoring students, but Momo and Kendo were too busy (he wasn’t the only idiot scrambling for a passing grade), Bakugou was too explodey, Iida was too boring, and Midoriya was too muttery. Todoroki was none of those things and also the hottest of the bunch, which lead to purpose number two: as his tutor, he and Todoroki could spend more time alone together. Why? Because six months had passed since Sero admitted to himself that he was no better than every other girl in school and was totally crushing on the Icy-hot hero Shouto and now he’s tired of pining like some basic bitch.

“Let’s study in my room,” Todoroki said.

Sero had been to Torodoki’s room like, a ton of times, but his heart still skipped a beat every time Todoroki invited him. “Lead the way, sensei,” he said.

“I’m not your sensei.”

“Your teaching prowess says otherwise, sensei.”

“Call me sensei one more time and I’ll have Bakugou quiz you on polar coordinates.”

“Now that’s just cruel,” Sero said. He spun in front of Todoroki. “But I don’t think you have the heart to follow through on that - ” Sero tapped his nose to the beat of his killing blow “ -  sen-sei.”

Todoroki stared at him for a moment, pouting, cheeks pink from the cold. Then he pulled out his phone and began texting Bakugou.

“Noooooo shit I’m sorry I’ll stop! It was just a joke!”

This is it,  Sero told himself.  Snow storm wailing outside, holed up in Todoroki’s room, just the two of us - this is my moment.

Todoroki’s room hadn’t changed much since their first year. Decorative pot of bamboo in the corner (fake), tall, dark wooden drawers, a low desk free of clutter, tatami flooring, somehow. That ugly checkered mat by his desk. But where there once was one chair, now there were two. A pair of crocs (never worn) sat in front of his dresser. And on the dresser, crowding the decorative orb, half a dozen framed pictures: Todoroki, Midoriya, and Bakugou at the end of their internship with Endeavor; their class picture from last year; Natsuo and Fuyumi showering Todoroki in hugs; a selfie Sero took of him and Todoroki on their first day of their summer internship with Edgeshot.

There was also a behemoth purple beanbag sitting by the shoji screen. It looked wildly out of place with the rest of his traditional set-up. Sero dragged it over to Todoroki’s desk and flopped down into it.

Over the next twenty minutes, they reviewed that day’s lessons (apparently it’s like, good practice to review what you’ve learned that same day, which was annoying, but Sero’s grades had been going up, so whatever). Todoroki explained over and over until Sero actually understood how to convert Cartesian coordinates to polar coordinates. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to explain so many times if Sero had listened carefully, but, well, it was hard with Todoroki talking to him in the soothing, patient tone he took on when he was teaching. He just looked so cute with his brow furrowed, thinking up a new way to explain a concept that would penetrate Sero’s thick skull. Sero liked to think he had built up a tolerance to buff, attractive men over his nearly-three years at U.A., but he was still weak to Todoroki’s hands, to the way his tight t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders.

The fact that he was cold as shit wasn't helping him focus either. Faint shadows of falling snow danced along the translucent paper walls of the shoji screen, taunting him.

But hey, at least he vaguely understood the polar coordinate system.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” Sero said after he finally solved a difficult math problem all on his own. “I bet the others would die to get their hands on your notes.”

“Guess they’ll die, then.”

Sero snickered. “That’s rough, dude.”

Todoroki shrugged. “I’m not going to put effort into something I don’t like to do when I know they won’t appreciate it.”

Sero freezes. “Wait - you don’t like tutoring?”

“Well - ”

“Oh shit, am I making you do something you hate? Bro, why didn’t you tell me, I wouldn’t have - ”

“It’s different when it’s you,” Todoroki said sharply.

Sometimes, it was hard to tell when Todoroki was joking, or if he was actually serious. The look in those blue-brown eyes, though, showed his resolve loud and clear.

Todoroki immediately averted his eyes. “I like helping you,” he muttered, “so it’s fine.”

“Oh.”

Not for the first time, Sero wondered: why him? Todoroki had many other friends ...maybe friends that were smarter than he was and didn’t need tutoring, granted, but other friends he could be hanging out with. What’s the appeal? Was it his wonderfully terrible sense of humor? Was it the muscles he totally wasn't showing off? Was it because they shared the same taste in manga (oh yeah - he should ask Todoroki if he finished with week’s Shonen Champion)? Was it because he, unlike at least half of their year, was capable of talking at a normal volume? Over his time at U.A., Sero had gained more confidence in himself than he ever thought he would, but when it came to Todoroki, he still felt...small. Unsure if the light that shone from a great hero like Todoroki drowned out his own little spark.

Usually things between them were pretty chill, but after that comment, a weird kind of tension settled over the room. Not bad, just quiet, like when there's a sleeping cat on your laps and you're afraid any movement will wake it.

Pretty soon, though, Sero began to shiver. He couldn’t help it - there was a winter storm outside, apparently, and he was in a tank top and jorts, and seriously, did  no one  turn the heat on? Did no one turn the heat on  and  the AC miraculously began working again?

Todoroki was staring at him, too. God, he must have thought Sero was some kind of pansy, getting cold so easily, unable to regulate his own temperature like  some  people (though he guessed in that case, most people would be pansies to Todoroki).

13) Convert 2x−5x   3   =1+xy into polar coordinates.

Sero tapped his pen against his paper. Todoroki’s gaze followed the movement, then returned to his face. Sero could practically feel his impatience.

Sero put his pen down and stretched his arms over his head. Todoroki looked away.  Got’em.  

“You know...” Sero said. Todoroki glanced back at him. “...staring at me isn’t going to help me solve this stupid question any faster.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Todoroki said, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Sero grinned. Anyone who knew him well can tell you that the Cool and Cold hero Shouto was just as petty as any mortal. Probably pettier, in fact. “You totally were.”

Todoroki frowned. “You were shivering.”

“Yeah, wonder why.”

Todoroki’s gaze shifted over to him. He looked Sero up and down. Sero tried and failed not to shiver. Todoroki’s clenched jaw softed and his eyes smiled and he stared - this time, he  was definitely staring - Sero felt his face heating up (well, that’s one way to get warm).

Wordlessly, Todoroki got up and sat down next to him on the beanbag. Sero fell against him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, the tips of Todoroki’s braid tickling his shoulder.

Sero froze up (pun intended). His heart pounded in his ears. But he knew what Todoroki was doing, so he didn’t feel guilty as he curled into his side, basking in the warmth like a cat in a strip of sunlight. And the warmth from Todoroki’s left side began to melt him down.  

He pressed his cheek against Todoroki’s shoulder and said, “I thought you didn’t like people using you as a space heater.”

“Most people.”

Sero smirked. “So you’re saying I’m special?”

Todoroki looked at him and smiled. “Didn’t I say that earlier?”

Ohhhh man oh fuck. How could he just say that, looking at him like that, like he was more than just the plainest guy in class, like he really was special? Sero was known for keeping his cool, for being the chillest dude in the group, but with someone as special as Todoroki looking at him like  he’s  special…fuck.

“I mean, well, like that was just about tutoring and not, you know - ”  nearly sitting in my fucking lap,   “  - sharing personal space.”

“You looked cold,” Todoroki said. He could feel Todoroki’s breath on his cheek. “I didn’t want you to be distracted.”

“I’m a lot more distracted now.”

A part of him cringed as the words left his mouth. Oh god, why did I say that, was that even sexy?  But another part of him pushed that part down and shushed it. This is the opening we’ve been waiting for, it said. Even if Todoroki turned him down, at least he could graduate without any regrets. Maybe he could even tell his grandkids that he once received a  personal  rejection from the great hero Shouto.

“Oh.” Todoroki said, shoulder tensing where Sero leaned against him. Sero braced himself mentally, the same way he did before he launched himself off a building, preparing for the inevitable gut-plunge as he swooped toward the ground. “...me too.”

And there’s the thrill of the upward swing.

Sero was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t have shot his shot if he’d thought he had no chance. Still, hearing Todoroki say he feels it too took him by surprise in the best way possible. Like tasting the sweet tang of umiboshi in the center of a plain-looking onigiri. Like acing a test you thought you failed. Like snow in June.

The air between them was electric but still. Did that count as admitting their feelings? What should he say now? Where were they supposed to go from here? All Sero wanted to do his grab Todoroki’s hand and hold his stupid pretty face in his hands and kiss him silly, but they should probably like, talk about things -

“Hanta.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh thank fuck - yes please.”

And then he was kissing Todoroki Shouto, son of number one hero Endeavor, one of the Big Three most promising students at the most prestigious hero school in the country. His lips were soft but clumsy, shy but adamant as he pressed against him. Sero cupped his face and felt the slight inhale of Shouto’s gasp. Despite being pinned down by the weight of Shouto’s chest on his and trapped between the strong forearms framing his face, the light that perpetually emanated from the great hero Shouto wasn’t overwhelming. Sero was warmed by his light instead of cowed by it. In that moment, Shouto’s light drew out the best in him - and his little spark ignited.  

Yet, that question that always nagged him surfaced again: Why me?      

As Shouto’s kisses began to trail down his neck, Sero figured he could ask why later - when Shouto wasn’t busy showing him it’s you, it’s you.      

Even with the frozen tundra battering just outside, Sero was burning up again.

[tumblunni]

OKAY!!! I am wearing my binder and then i am wearing my other binder on top of my binder and I am devouring all the binder safety tips and how to dress to cover up the lil bit of non-flatness that is always inevitably gonna be there and i am feeling VERY MORE CONFIDENT IN MYSELF AAAA and i kinda sent a kinda rambley sentimental thank you email to the customer service guy who helped me order the binder and AAAAA this is just a very good day and I say this even as im feeling lightheaded and resigning myself to a life of chest pains every single day like seriously, if you do it properly then it wont be unbearable or damaging or anything, but you’ve gotta respect the fact that choosing to bind is choosing to be rather uncomfortable, yknow? and its kind of a skill you have to learn, to be able to wear it for long enough to get through social situations and then not hate yourself when you have to take it off. Cos yeah seriously you can literally break your ribs and this happens A LOT because seriously it is a thing that stops your dysphoria so its fucking difficult to remember to take it off and rest in between uses. literally people have BROKEN THEIR RIBS! literally! THEIR FUCKING RIBS! Or cut giant gashes in their flesh or been unable to breathe or even unable to EAT because its just THAT tight! And I dont mean to scare anyone off with that stuff, it only happens if you bind improperly, but honestly its really tempting to bind improperly just to get better compression on the chest. there isnt really a binder yet that makes you look 100% cis and works the same for every single chest size. And I mean its not gonna be peaches and rainbows impossible to feel it, even if you get the right size! its binding your literal ribcage, its gonna make you short of breath and its gonna be hard to forget it’s there. And you’re gonna be living like at like a 75% athletic potential compared to everyone else. I know i couldnt have been able to bind during my school years, i would have been constantly worried about outing myself by fainting during gym class! So yeah just... I admire people who are able to bind for their whole life. I admire people who can look handsome as hell doing it, instead of like a horrible lump like me! And I’ll admit im a little worried i wont be able to put up with this kind of comittment, that I’ll wimp out cos its too difficult to get used to. But really seriously SERIOUSLy it is fuckin worth it! its so fucking worth it and ive waited so long. i’m not terrified to go outside tomorrow, i wanna find some sort of excuse to take a walk and see if i can get used to wearing this in public! I dunno yet if i’ll feel more or less anxious about people looking at me? i mean im gonna look more openly nonbinary and all, so its a bit nervewracking knowing im a clearer target for trasphobes. I guess thats always the fear of coming out of the closet, but being inside it is terrifying and demeaning too :P I just hope that someday I can like.. look like myself without ALSO having to associate it with a crushing weight on my chest and a huge list of medical tips to avoid disaster. I hope someday I can get top surgery and be able to just relax, though again I mean surgery isnt an instant solution, you have to endure through the rehibilitation progress and all. It can be demotivating to know you just have to keep working for years and years but at least ive made the first step! and the light at the end of the tunnel will be there someday! ...oh man i hope someday i’m confident enough to bring up the subject again with my social worker though. I’ve tried talking to her like twice and im always on the verge of tears and then its like i never even said anything. She still keeps calling me ‘miss’ and like.. im reaching out for help and all she’s said is ‘well we should work on your depression first before we talk to the doctor about that’. But like.. i kinda.. might be.. a bit less depressed if I could talk about my gender?? mannn im just frickin glad i know friends on tumblr who’re more educated about transgender stuff, otherwise i never would have learned. never even would have known that there were words for what i feel, never would have felt welcomed enough to even ask for help. Man, the real pressure on my chest is the feeling of trying to come out of the closet to a goddamn medical professional! That felt like a heart attack! XD so.. yeah.. im just.. very sentimental right now thanks everybody for supporting me! I’m kinda due to take this thing off now and have a two hour break, so im gonna go have a blazing hot shower and try dyeing my hair that colour i love, and then take a selfie of the new and fabulous me! with my still kinda gross horrible far-from-passing chest, but at least its 40% less female than before! :D