#midoriya: OH!! i FORGOT!!! man that would have worked way better kacchan you’re so smart

[granny-griffin]

Do you still have unshared fic ideas?

Bakugou’s savings account for the mech suit is named something like “stupid nerd fund” in the paperwork, so villains go after Midoriya because they think he’s blackmailing Bakugou for something and they want to know what it is. 1-A has to resolve the situation without letting Midoriya know what’s really going on

[purplerayne17]

Can’t Dance-BKDK

Katsuki, 25-year old chemical engineer, has begun dating one of the analysts that works in his building. They guy was a total nerd, but he was perfect for Katsuki: hot, smart, adorable—not that he’d admit this just yet.

On one of their last dates, Deku—Izuku—the emerald-eyed cutie—admitted they had gone to the same high school—Katsuki was mortified! How had he never noticed?

Deku said it was fine, that he had kept a low profile on purpose to be able to focus on his studies. He said that the only time he actually went out was to meet his friends, whom Katsuki was meeting today.

Katsuki was not nervous, not one bit. He was awesome, no doubt about it, but this was important to the nerd, so he’d try to be—ugh—pleasant.  He wondered what sort of friends the nerd had to have him meet them at a dance club—this didn’t seem like the nerd’s scene. Luckily, Deku had thought of their friend groups as a whole meeting, so his idiots would serve as buffer.

“Hey, you made it! The guys are inside already!” Deku chirped as he jogged to reach him.

“Hah? You think I’d ditch you?!” He answered on instinct, but the moment his eyes fell upon the greenette all was lost. He felt the air leave his lungs, as he took in the white sneakers he had gotten the man; skin-tight, ripped black jeans;  the almost see through white shirt and black jacket with bunched up sleeves to reveal the muscular forearms... Bakugo Katsuki was suddenly very thirsty and the smirk on his lover’s face let him know this was evident.

Leaning in for a hug, the cheeky shit asked, “Like what you see, Kacchan?” Letting a warm breath fan over Katsuki’s ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps on its wake.

He hugged back and his brain decided to work again and managed to say something halfway smooth. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

The nerd stepped back, taking him by the hand to lead him inside and giggled. “Good. I can’t be the only one restraining myself here.”

‘Who is this confident fucker?!' Izuku Midoriya was usually shy and cute in public, an adorable mumbling mess. Sure, he was a dominant monster in bed, but never in public. Katsuki should have seen this as a red flag as to what was to happen inside, but at the moment, he was too turned on to care.

_______________________________________________________________

The club was packed and Katsuki could already feel his shoulders tense—he’d never liked crowded places, too much could go wrong. However, it seemed the nerd had planned for everything because he had rented a private area on the second floor for their “squads”, as they called themselves.

As soon as they walked past the entrance, Katsuki’s red-headed best friend, Eijirou, spotted them and ran over to wrap them in a bone-crushing hug. “Bakubro, you made it! Mido-bro, thanks for getting him to come out today!”

Izuku beamed at the small praise and went over to the table to join the rest of their friends. Katsuki, reminding himself not to cause a bad impression, suppressed the urge to make a scene, pocketed his hands, and went to sit beside Izuku, draping his arm casually over his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“So, guys, this is Kacchan! Kacchan, this is Shouto, Ochako, Shinsou, and Iida.”

“’m only Kacchan to you, Nerd,” Katsuki said, turning them to the others and giving a sharp nod to acknowledge them. “Name’s Katsuki Bakugo. Nice to meet you.”

His own friends gawked openly, “Dude, did you hear-?” “Did he just say-?” “Midoriya, you broke him!” “Bro, was nice!”

Izuku snorted and took a swig of his beer while his nerdy friends laughed and expressed their pleasure in meeting him too.

Katsuki wanted to throttle his so-called squad. Couldn’t they just be normal for once?! He almost, almost let out a whine at this. This night was going to be terrible. He needed a drink, so he snatched the bottle from his boyfriend’s hand and gulped what was left of it.

His displeasure must have been evident, because a short-haired brunette, Round Cheeks—yes, he already forgot her name—put a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder and said, “Don’t worry; Izu already told us you’re a little rough. As long as you make him happy, you don’t have to worry about faking it.”

He wasn’t sure if to feel relieved or threatened by that, but Izuku had his hand on Katsuki’s thigh and his thought process became compromised once more.

The group was hitting it off—they were one their fifth round of shots, they had no choice but to hit it off at this point—and some were starting to drift off into the dance floor. 

Mina had already dragged Kirishima two songs ago, Sero went for the bold move of asking Iida—apparently he has a robot or a daddy kink— who also dragged Ochako along; and Denki, being Denki, was starting to pull both Shinso and Shouto into the dancefloor when all of the sudden, the song changed, and Izuku’s eyes lit up.

Panic surged through Katsuki’s body. He’d told the nerd he went to parties all the time in high school and college; it was part of the jock’s image after all, but he had conveniently left off the part that he NEVER danced.

Before he could react, Izuku grabbed him by the hand and began to guide him down the stairs, but Katsuki, in a last-ditch effort, pulled back and kissed deeply Izuku, grazing the other’s bottom lip to request access, hoping to distract him.

Izuku of course was smarter and lovingly pulled away, tracing along the blonde’s features with his thumb.

“What’s wrong, Kacchan?”

Katsuki felt himself flush, giving a nervous chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck, completely avoiding the greenette's gaze. This was so embarrassing! “Oh, um, I can’t dance” Better to admit it and avoid suffering.

But of course, being the sunshine that he is, Izuku smile broadly and took his hand once more. “Oh, is that all? And here I was, getting worried.”

Due to his current confusion because: 1. His boyfriend was overly confident in public; that had never really happened. 2. He was not deterred by Katsuki saying he couldn’t dance, and 3. Those pants on Deku left nothing to the imagination; Katsuki let himself be dragged to the dancefloor without much fuss.

Once there, Deku grabbed both of his hands and said, “Even if you can’t dance, just hold my hips while I roll them” and as he said it, he turned around and ground to the beat, the greenette’s plump ass grazing his crotch, that had Katsuki on the verge of a heart attack. All he could do was swallow and nod.

As the song continued, Deku brought a hand to caress Katsuki’s face and told him, “Relax, babe. I won’t mind as long as you don’t stop.”

With a wink, Deku turned around and continued to dance. Katsuki was awestruck at the man before him, dancing with a confidence that just added to his usual radiance. The shock at this revelation was so much, he whispered “What the fuck?”

“Oh, come on Kacchan! Don’t just stand and watch; follow me!”

And ladies and gentlemen, Katsuki tried, but he was fucking stiff.

He was usually a cocky, over-the-top competitor type, but this was just too much. Deku noticed the nerves though and brought him close, as the song shifted to something slower. With a sultry tone, he breathed, “Being all anxious won’t do you any good, cause I don’t have any plans of stopping.” Then he bit his lip in contemplation, and nodded, making a decision Katsuki was completely alien to, while he brought them chest to chest, stealing a mind-numbing kiss.

“You just gotta move in my direction; I’ll teach you.”

In the background, he could hear his friends hollerin’ and calling his name. But he drowned them out, because who the fuck can keep a straight train of thought—no pun intended—when Deku is dropping and twerking like it’s nothing?!

After two songs, Katsuki had had enough. He dragged Deku to the bathroom and locked the door.

“What the fuck, Deku?!”

Izuku eyed him with nervous eyes, searching for answers, freaking out because he had no idea what had enraged his boyfriend.

“What did I do, Kacchan?”

“You’re a nerd! We’ve never been partying, and you said you only went out to meet your friends during high school and college. Why the fuck can you dance like that?!”

At this point, Katsuki was clearly frustrated and confused. Now he can admit his words didn’t make much sense, but he was caught off guard at the moment; can’t really blame a guy.

Izuku’s big emerald eyes widened and then something clicked. He doubled over laughing, only increasing Katsuki’s frustrations.

“What the hell nerd, just answer me!”

Gasping for breaths between his laughter, he attempted to calm the blonde. “Oh, oh Kacchan is that-is that what was worrying you?” Another wave of laughter.

“Are you making fun of me? Izu, I thought you trusted me, but you’ve been lying to me!”

“No, no, no! Kacchan, I haven’t lied at all. I did only go out to meet my friends, but it was to a dance class! I could’ve sworn I told you about it on our second date.”

“Oh...”

/Oh/

Their second date was the time they went to the amusement park; the first time they made out. No wonder he didn’t remember! There were more pressing, memorable, matters at hand, after all.

Then, it was like Izuku had flipped a switch. He got closer and wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s neck, bringing their lips together briefly, before nipping along the blonde’s jaw and neck, making him bite back a moan. With an almost animalistic growl, Deku whispered into Katsuki’s ear as his hands made their way down the engineer’s body.

“Why? Were you a little jealous, or just upset I haven’t shown you everything I can do?”

Katsuki snapped, caging the greenette against the wall, he bit playfully at the other’s shoulder and asked, “Oh, is that so? Care to show me what you’ve been holding back, Deku?”

“Gladly.”

But just as he smashed their lips together, the door swung open, startling them and making them scramble to cover their evident arousal.

“What the fuck Pikachu?!” Bakugo seethed.

‘Damn it! So close!’

Denki rushed into a stall, apologizing when he was already inside. “Sorry Bakubro, can’t hold it in!”

“I thought you’d closed it!” Izuku looked at him with panic in his eyes, hands still smoothing over the dark jeans to put everything back in its place.

Katsuki, still fuming at the interruption, hissed, “I did!” Looking towards the stall and wondering how the hell the other blonde had broken through.

Draping a hand around his boyfriend’s shoulders, moment clearly gone, he began to chuckle at Izuku’s embarrassment as he led him back to their area. 

That reaction was more like the nerd he knew. Although confident dancer Izuku had him with a constant hard-on, he has to admit he loved how cute his boyfriend could be when he was flustered. His sexy-ass moves would have to wait until they got back to one of their apartments, but that night was one he’d never forget.

END

Just having a day where I couldn’t get this song out of my head xD (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNZrc_XvF30)

Now on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592402 

[aethelar]

All the world’s a game

And Izuku’s the main player. A My Hero Academia AU where Izuku has a gamer quirk.

-

Izuku Midoriya’s abilities started developing when he was three years old, marking him as one of the eighty percent majority that had a quirk. They didn’t give any sign that they’d started, of course; no small objects flying towards him, no fire hiccoughing out when he sneezed. Nothing obvious at all in fact, but quietly behind the scenes, his quirk developed.

“An invisible quirk,” the doctors called it, a year later, when Izuku’s x-rays came back free of extra toe joints. “It’s possible it has an obscure activation criteria, or an effect which hasn’t been noticed yet.” This particular doctor pulled a rusty but at least somewhat sincerely sympathetic face at Izuku and cautioned him, “You may never find out what your quirk is, I’m afraid.” He laughed, then added as though he couldn’t resist the pun, “Invisible quirks can be very hard to see.”

“Shows what he knows,” Kacchan scoffed when Izuku faithfully relayed the explanation. “If you were invisible you’d be impossible to see. Stupid old man.”

“I don’t think that’s what he meant,” Izuku said, pushing himself into a jog to keep up with the taller boy. He ran, as he always did, for precisely seven seconds, then walked for four, then ran for seven, then walked, and so on.

“Keep up,” Kacchan yelled from several paces ahead.

Izuku ran for another seven seconds at top speed before his feet slowed stubbornly to a four second walk.

-

“Maybe,” he theorised to Kacchan several months later, “maybe it’s a brain quirk.”

Kacchan wrinkled his nose. “What, like a super nerd? That’s lame.”

“Izuku’s super smart thought,” Tsubasa said thoughtfully from his other side. “He’s really good at homework.”

“That’s even lamer. How is homework going to help him be a hero?”

“I don’t think it’s homework.” Izuku frowned, trying to find the words to explain something he wasn’t even sure existed. “It’s like… I always know where I am if I’ve been somewhere, but I have to actually think about it first. And I don’t know how I know but I do, you know?”

“Oh, that’s a quirk?” Tsubasa asked, wings shifting in excitement. “I do that too! I thought I just recognised places. You think I have two quirks?”

“Yes, I mean, no, but - as in, I think I have a map? In my head? Of where I am now and where I’ve been before. But a moving map, not a paper one. And I fill it in when I go places.”

“A map?” Tsubasa’s wings drooped. “Oh. I can’t read maps. They don’t make sense.”

“Maps aren’t quirks and you’re both idiots,” Kacchan said. He pushed himself off from the wall and landed with a harsh thud on the ground, palms sparking with just enough force to slow his descent, and Tsubasa and Izuku scrambled to follow. Tsubasa opened his wings into a controlled fall with a graceless but effective flap, while Izuku turned around and began the lengthy process of climbing down hand over hand.

“Slow,” Kacchan complained. The fact that he couldn’t scale the same wall didn’t seem to occur to him, nor the fact that it was a smooth stone, entirely lacking in footholds or anything to grip.

“Sorry,” Izuku said, dropping the last step and waiting the required four seconds before he was ready to run. He was up to eleven seconds now before he needed a rest, but climbing was harder - he could manage six, and never on glass, under an overhang, or in the rain. Six seconds of going vertically up pretty much any non-smooth surface, but then his arms and legs would seize up and he’d go tumbling to the floor until his required four seconds of rest were up.

(He’d learnt the hard way.)

 -

“I’m hungry,” Izuku explained again.

“You want to be hungry and in trouble? Move, Deku!”

“Kacchan,” Izuku said, voice wobbling dangerously close to tears, “I’m hungry. I can’t run. It doesn’t work.” And, because Kacchan still looked mutinous, he sniffed and added: “It’s part of my quirk.”

Kacchan threw his hands up with far too much exasperation for any six year old to reasonably feel, then settled the issue by dragging Izuku into an uncomfortable piggy back. “Anything else I should know about you being hungry?” he asked, jabbing an elbow into Izuku’s side to make him stop squirming.

“Um. If I’m hungry for too long I get sick?”

“Your quirk is the most useless thing ever, I swear.”

 -

“Here,” Katsuki said, roughly shoving a packet of crisps, a juice box and an apple into Izuku’s bag. He knew better than to give them to Izuku to hold directly; he had two hands, and therefore could hold two things, and if given any more to hold had a bad habit of dropping them on the floor like an idiot.

Because he was. An idiot. One who couldn’t be trusted to take care of himself, which is why Katsuki was feeding him, so he wouldn’t go hungry and stop running again.

“Ah, Kacchan - wait -” And the second Katsuki let go of the last item, Izuku staggered to a halt and sat down hard.

“Deku,” he growled. “What.”

“It can only hold ten things! You put too many in there and now it’s full.” Izuku shrugged himself out of the straps and tugged forlornly on the top handle, but the backpack stayed resolutely on the floor as though Katsuki had tipped lead bricks into it instead of food.

Tsubasa took the opportunity to lean over and peer inside the bag. “There’s still space,” he said helpfully. “It’s only half full.”

“And anyway! I’ve seen you carrying things for Auntie, there’s no way you can’t lift that!” Katsuki had seen Izuku casually lift a table to move it around the living room. For a scrawny mess of big eyes and freckles, Izuku was sometimes freakishly strong.

The scrawny mess in question heaved at the drooping school bag, twig-muscles standing out on twig-arms as he failed to make it budge. “They weren’t eleven things, Kacchan! Quirk says ten max!”

“Your quirk is a pain. Tsubasa, carry Deku’s bag.”

“‘Kay,” the other boy said, lifting the backpack up with the tip of an outstretched wing. “Have you got any more juice boxes? I finished mine.”

“You can have mine,” Izuku offered. “Then I’ll be able to carry it again.”

Katsuki knocked Tsubasa’s hand away. “No,” he said. “It’s for Deku when he’s hungry. I’ll get you one after class.”

“‘Kay.”

 -

“Ten things,” Kacchan said later. Izuku turned towards him warily; he recognised the tone of voice. Kacchan was planning.

Kacchan’s plans only sometimes went right for others involved, but it was never a good idea to try and back out. Wariness was about the best Izuku could manage.

“Any ten things?”

“Um,” Izuku said. “I think so? I tested some of it, and it’s definitely ten. But if they’re in something they only count as one.” He got a somewhat blank look, so pulled his bag towards him to explain. “Like, here. My pencil case. It’s got ten pencils in it, right? But it’s only one thing because it’s a pencil case, so it counts as one. Even though it’s actually ten. Or, well, ten pencils plus one case so eleven. It’s eleven, but it goes in my bag as one thing.”

Kacchan turned the case over in his hands. “Huh,” he said, squinting at Izuku. “Could you put a hundred pencils in ten cases and put those ten in one big case and put that in your bag?”

“Yeah, I think so! So long as they fit. I did some testing when I discovered it, I think I have the notebook somewhere -”

“Nerd,” Kacchan interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “I believe you, I don’t need your diary.” He snapped the pencil case shut and handed it back - then doubled over laughing when it slammed Izuku’s hands to the floor as soon as he took it.

“Ow - Kacchan! What did you - you added something to it!”

“A sticker,” Kacchan wheezed. “I put a sticker in it and you actually can’t - oh my god Deku your quirk - a freakin’ sticker -”

“Ten of anything, Kacchan! Only ten!”

Anything, it turned out, really meant anything. The backpack wasn’t big enough for Kacchan’s liking so they retrieved Izuku’s mum’s suitcase from under her bed and filled it with the heaviest things in the house, including, at one point, Kacchan himself. Ten items or less, Izuku lifted it no problem. Add the sticker as an eleventh, and it crashed to the ground.

That part wasn’t so bad, but Izuku had two hands as well, and each hand could hold one of any item. Including Kacchan. And the sofa. But add the sticker, and, well, that’s how Izuku’s arm broke.

“Shit,” Kacchan swore, staring at it white-faced. In any other circumstances Izuku would’ve protested at the language, but he could be forgiven for being distracted.

“It’s going backwards,” he said with a morbid fascination that was probably the only thing keeping the pain at bay.

“Don’t touch it!” Kacchan slapped his good hand away. “And don’t tell Aunty! It’s not hurt that bad. I’ll get you a chocolate bar tomorrow if you stay upstairs and I’ll tell Aunty you’re sick and don’t say anything.”

“But it needs a plaster - ow!”

Izuku’s eyes filled with tears and Kacchan dropped his arm as though burned, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, don’t cry,” he flapped. “I’ll get a plaster, you’re fine, right? Plaster, bed, chocolate, don’t tell Aunty, stop crying. Right?”

“Two chocolate bars,” Izuku argued between sniffs. “And I want the All Might plasters, the normal ones aren’t as good.”

“Done,” Kacchan agreed, and hustled the shorter boy down to the bathroom. The All Might plaster was dutifully stuck on Izuku’s shoulder (they weren’t sure if it would work there, but seeing as his arm hurt when it was touched the shoulder seemed the safest place), Izuku himself was practically barricaded in his room, and Kacchan prepared his best innocent smile for lying through his teeth to every parent in the vicinity.

It was foolproof.

The fact that Izuku woke up in the morning with his arm completely healed only proved how flawless their planning really was. (That and the unmistakable power of All Might plasters).

 -

“Where’s Deku?”

“Here!”

“Shit, don’t do that! Make some noise or something, seriously.”

“Sorry, I forgot I was crouching.”

“Your damn quirk Deku, I swear to god.”

“Sorry, Kacchan.”

 -

“Again, Midoriya,” the gym teacher said. “And this time actually try to run the course without stopping.”

“But sensei, I can only manage thirty eight seconds of sprint and it takes two minutes and four seconds for each lap -”

“Midoriya!”

Izuku growled wordlessly and stomped back to the starting line. “Middle school is the worst.”

“You want me to hit him for you?” Tsubasa offered, standing ready with a stopwatch. He eyed the teacher, carefully comparing his wing strength to the man’s arm muscles in the way Katsuki had taught him. “I can hit him for you.”

“No hitting teachers, Tsubasa. No hitting anyone. We’ll get detention.”

“You and Katsuki will rescue me,” he said with easy conviction. “You’re heroes, it’s what you do.” It made Izuku smile at him, briefly lifting his mood. His old teachers had got used to the oddities and restrictions his quirk put on him, but even a month into middle school and his new teachers didn’t seem to have caught up. In a class full of visible quirks and Kacchan, Izuku was easy to overlook; it was an annoyance, but not one worth getting into trouble for.

At least, Izuku didn’t think so. Kacchan had practically exploded with protective fury when a teacher had tried to stop Izuku eating between classes, but Kacchan liked exploding so it probably wasn’t a good test.

“Heroes don’t hit people,” he told Tsubasa. “Unless they’re villains.”

“Yeah, but villains are people who disagree with heroes, and you ‘n Katsuki are heroes, so you can hit anyone who disagrees with you. It’s how it works.”

“It’s really not -”

“Midoriya! Less talking, more running!”

Izuku fought the urge to glare back at the teacher. Tsubasa, far too honest with his feelings and unused to fighting his urges, glared double.

“Let’s get this over with,” Izuku muttered, settling himself into ready position. “Count me down?”

When he was done, the time on Tsubasa’s stopwatch showed a clean six minutes, twelve seconds, with a precise time of two minutes four seconds per lap. Exactly the same as the previous two times Izuku had run the course.

He might not be the fastest of runners in a straight out sprint, but at least Izuku was consistent. If it wasn’t such a pain to stop and eat when sprinting made his hunger ran out he’d make a good long distance runner, but it was a pain, so he didn’t.

Also quirk use was forbidden in gym class.

“You need to push your boundaries,” the teacher said with a disappointed head shake. “I won’t tolerate slacking. Here, collect these and take them back to the equipment cupboard.” He pressed three stopwatches into Izuku’s hands, and Izuku could only watch in resignation as one of them tumbled to the ground.

“I’ll get it in a sec, sensei,” he said dully and trudged off to deposit the two in his hands before he could be accused of being disrespectful of school property.

Tsubasa jogged up, the fallen stopwatch carefully retrieved. “I can still hit him. You’re sure you don’t want me to hit him? Kacchan won’t mind.”

“No hitting people, Tsubasa.”

“Even villains?”

“Sensei’s not a villain.”

“Oh. Do you want me to hit him anyway?”

“Tsubasa.”

 -

By the time he was fourteen, Izuku thought he had most of his quirk nailed down. He wasn’t sure what the common theme was - he had suspicions and ideas, but seriously, a gamer quirk? Ridiculous - but he was pretty certain he’d got the features in place.

The map he’d started filling in as a four year old covered most of the city by now, with long spider legs arching out along the train lines. It didn’t include a compass, but he could usually tell which way was which just by tracking his position along the map as he moved. It was on the one hand less useful than the map his phone gave him as it didn’t show places he hadn’t been, but also more useful in that he could zoom it into buildings and bring up floor plans if he concentrated hard enough.

His phone didn’t give him as many headaches though.

The issue with only being able to hold one thing in each hand, or ten things in a bag, required some creative thinking. Packing for a trip anywhere was the worst, everything had to be grouped in stacks of ten and placed in other bags just to allow him to pick up a suitcase. His school bag was usually ok, but carrying shopping was a logistical nightmare. Thank god for multipacks, that’s all Izuku was saying.

On the other hand, there didn’t seem to be a weight limit on what those items were, as Kacchan had so spectacularly discovered when he dropped a sofa on Izuku’s head and broke his arm. Izuku hadn’t found much use in his life so far for being able to deadlift a bus (plus up to ten passengers, but the bus was the impressive thing), but he was pretty sure it would come in handy as a hero.

And the other discovery from that day with the sofa, although neither of them had realised it at the time - sleep was good for Izuku. None of this waiting around, lying awake in bed unable to drift off; if it was night, and Izuku was in a bed, then he slept the healing sleep of the dead right through to sunrise and woke up in perfect health. On the plus side, he never had a nightmare, and never had an illness or injury follow him through to the next morning.

On the downside, Izuku didn’t budge from bed until the sun was up. In summer, he woke early. In winter, he still woke kind of early because sunrise in Japan only ever got as late as around seven-ish. But if he needed to be up before then, well… No. Not physically possible. A villain could burn the house down and tango on the ashes, and Izuku wouldn’t stir until sunrise came.

He got surprisingly used to skipping sleep all together when he needed to be up early. That and apologising for being late, he got the apologies down to an art form.

(He hadn’t yet unlocked the feature that wouldn’t let him sleep when enemies were nearby for the simple fact that, at fourteen, Izuku didn’t have enemies. Nor had he discovered yet that he couldn’t sleep without a bed because why on earth would he try to sleep without a bed? He’d once mortally offended Kacchan by offering to take the floor when they were having a sleepover, and Kacchan had responded by drowning Izuku in blankets and smothering him with pillows until he apologised and promised never to do it again.)

And, of course, his stamina. By fourteen, Izuku could sprint for forty six seconds before his forced rest of four seconds. Climbing gave him twenty three seconds, which was usually enough to reach some kind of ledge or windowsill to recharge his energy. The rain was still deadly, as was the bucket of water he and Kacchan had experimented with that other one time Izuku broke his arm. He could hang stationary on to the side of a building practically endlessly, but if he reached his twenty three second limit of actively climbing, he just dropped.

Incidentally, Tsubasa had got surprisingly good at catching him.

So, that’s Izuku’s quirk: he navigates weird, he sleeps weird, he runs and climbs weird, he carries things weird, and if he ever gets too hungry then he just goes weird. He’s only once pushed his hunger long enough to make himself sick, which was more to find out his limits than anything else. They’ve probably changed in the past few years, but when he was twelve he had two hours, twenty six minutes between being unable to run and being so hungry that he threw up in a trash can. Thirty four minutes after that and he’d been shivering and sweating and unable to stand, and eight minutes after that he’d been found by Kacchan and yelled at and force fed corn soup from the closest vending machine.

Ah, fond memories.

All of which led, approximately seven months ago, to Izuku deciding: “Yuuei. I’m going to apply to Yuuei.”

“Well, duh,” Kacchan said, making a face at him over his spicy chilli noodles. “We’re going to be heroes. Where else would we go?”

“Doesn’t Shiketsu train heroes as well?” Tsubasa asked. Kacchan rolled his eyes and kicked him in the shin.

“We’re going to be number one hereos,” he amended. “All Might went to Yuuei. If I’m going to be number one and Deku’s going to be number two then we need to go to Yuuei too. It’s logic.”

And when Kacchan put his unique stamp of approval on one of Izuku’s plans, that was it. The plan was happening. He, of the green hair and the twiggy, bus-benching arms, would go to Yuuei and be the number two hero.

Off the edge of his mental map of Tokyo, in a part of the city that he hadn’t yet unlocked the map for, a small marker started flashing in his mind.

Main quest: Yuuei Entrance Exam. Achieve a passing grade in both the written and practical portions of the famous hero class entrance exam and begin your journey to becoming a pro hero...