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Boku No Academia - Blog Posts

2 weeks ago

“Ashes and New Beginnings”

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Action / Romance / Angst / Fluff

TW: Mild violence, pregnancy, labor scene, emotional vulnerability

---

The mission was never supposed to go this far south.

You were only a few weeks away from your due date—not ideal for fieldwork, but you were stubborn. You could still move, still fight, and no one dared to argue when you gave that look. Not even him.

“Stay behind me,” Dabi had warned with a voice like low fire, his back shielding yours as the Pro Heroes ambushed the warehouse. “You shouldn’t have come. You know that, right?”

You smirked, placing a hand on your swollen belly. “You think I’d let you run off without me? Nice try, hotshot.”

He didn’t smile—Dabi rarely did—but the way his eyes flickered toward you said everything. He hated this. Hated seeing you like this, vulnerable and too close to danger. Hated that he couldn’t stop you… because he knew if it were him in your shoes, he wouldn’t stay behind either.

The fight erupted fast. Flames, explosions, quirks flashing in the dark. You held your own as long as you could—until it hit.

Pain.

A sudden, sharp contraction that stole the breath from your lungs. You dropped to your knees behind the crates, gripping your abdomen with a shaky gasp.

No. Not now.

“Dabi!” your voice cracked, loud enough to pierce the chaos. He turned instantly, the moment burned into memory—his eyes wide, horror dawning.

You're in labor.

Everything else vanished for him. Enemies, plans, strategy—none of it mattered anymore. He bolted to your side, catching you as you doubled over, another wave of pain tearing through you.

“You weren’t supposed to—shit—okay, okay, breathe,” he muttered, voice unsteady for once, panic creeping into every word. “You’re early. Damn it.”

“I can’t—I can’t hold it—”

He lifted you easily, cradling you against his chest, heat rolling off his skin protectively. His own flames flared wildly around him, forming a vicious barrier between you and the heroes advancing.

“She’s out. She’s done. You come any closer, I burn you all to ash,” Dabi snarled.

One look in his eyes, and none of them dared take a step.

He carried you out through the smoke and ruin like a man possessed, whispering ragged reassurances as your contractions got closer, sharper, more intense. He’d never been so afraid in his life—and he’d never felt something burn hotter than the love he felt for you right then.

---

Awesome—let’s go with Parts 2 and 3: a mix of chaotic, emotional, and a bit romantic. Dabi ends up having to deliver the baby himself at a hideout. Here's the continuation:

---

The hideout was a dump—abandoned, half-burnt, and barely standing—but it was the only place close enough. Dabi kicked the door open, cursing under his breath as he laid you down on a grimy mattress. Your face was pale, sweat clinging to your forehead, eyes dazed from pain.

“This isn’t happening,” you gasped, gripping his coat with trembling fingers. “I can’t—I don’t know what to—”

“Hey. Look at me,” he said, voice sharp but trembling. “You’re doing this. You’re strong. You’ve always been. I’ve seen you tear through enemies like nothing. This? This is nothing compared to what you’ve survived.”

You nodded, tears sliding down your cheeks, your body wracked with another contraction.

Dabi ripped off his coat and laid it beneath you. He moved like someone on autopilot—heating up a towel with his flames to sterilize it, searching the place for clean-ish water and supplies.

He had no idea what he was doing. He was a villain, not a midwife. But watching you suffer? Listening to your cries of pain and fear? That broke something in him.

“I got you, baby. Just breathe for me. I’m right here.”

He knelt between your legs, your body shaking violently, and whispered every comforting word he could think of—even though his own hands trembled like hell.

And then he saw it.

“Oh, shit. I see the head.”

---

You screamed—raw, powerful, primal. And Dabi didn’t flinch. He caught your child in his scarred hands like something sacred, eyes wide with disbelief. His flames were nowhere to be seen now—just his soft breath, ragged and stunned as he wrapped the baby up in his shirt.

“It’s a girl,” he said hoarsely, his voice cracking in a way you’d never heard before.

You sobbed, partly from exhaustion, partly from overwhelming love—for the little life in his arms, and for the man kneeling beside you, the same man everyone called a monster.

Dabi leaned over and pressed his forehead to yours, his hand still shaking as he held the baby close.

“She’s got your nose,” he whispered. “Poor kid.”

You laughed weakly, grabbing his collar and pulling him into a kiss, your lips warm against his even in your drained state.

“Thanks for not setting the place on fire,” you murmured.

He chuckled. “I thought about it. But she’s kinda worth not burning the world down for.”

You looked up at him, your breath catching—not from pain this time, but from love.

“I want to name her Aiko,” you said softly.

Dabi blinked. “Love, huh?”

You nodded. He swallowed hard.

“Yeah… she’s got plenty of that now.”

---

Hours passed. You were asleep now—finally resting after everything your body had just been through. Your breath was even, your face peaceful in the dull light filtering through the cracked hideout window.

Dabi sat in the far corner, silent, still, cradling Aiko in his arms.

She was so small.

He held her like she was made of glass, terrified to even breathe too hard. His fingers—burnt, stitched, ruined—looked wrong against her smooth, perfect skin. But she didn’t seem to mind. She just blinked up at him, curious and calm.

“You’re not scared of me, huh?” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

She blinked again.

He gave a shaky laugh. “You will be. When you’re older. When they tell you stories about Dabi the killer. The villain. The monster.”

His smile faltered. His hands tightened around the blanket.

“But your mom… she’ll tell you the truth. She always sees the truth. Even when I couldn’t.”

Aiko squirmed and let out a tiny squeaky noise. Dabi instinctively rocked her—something he’d seen in movies, not something he’d ever practiced.

“Yeah, I know. Life’s gonna be rough. You’re a villain’s kid. Maybe a hero’s too, if she has anything to say about it.”

His voice dropped lower. “But I’m gonna protect you. You hear me?”

A single tear slid down his cheek—he hadn’t cried in years. Not for himself. Not even for his past.

But this was different.

“You’re the only thing I’ve ever done right.”

Aiko yawned, stretched her hand out, and wrapped her tiny fingers around one of his.

And in that moment, for the first time in forever… Dabi felt warm.

Not from his fire.

From her.

---

“Alright, what the actual hell is that?”

Twice was the first one through the door, tripping over his own feet as he pointed at the bundle in Dabi’s arms like it was a bomb. Toga peeked over his shoulder, wide-eyed and covered in someone else’s blood.

“Is that a baby? Did you kidnap a baby? Oh my god, Dabi, I love her already—wait, did you steal her?”

Dabi gave them both a withering look, eyes dark and tired, but there was no anger—just exhaustion.

“She’s mine,” he said simply.

Silence.

Shigaraki looked up from scratching his neck raw in the corner, narrowing his eyes. Spinner froze mid-sip of his canned drink. Compress blinked like someone in a stage play who forgot their line.

“…Yours?” Shigaraki repeated slowly, voice dry. “As in—you made that?”

“Yeah,” Dabi replied, glancing down at the little girl dozing in his arms. “With her.” He nodded toward the back room where you were still recovering.

Toga’s eyes widened like saucers. “You had a baby with the pretty girl with the knives?!”

“Yep.”

“I ship it.”

Twice clapped dramatically. “Dabi’s a dad! Oh god, we’re all going to die. In a cute way.”

Shigaraki stared at the baby like she was some kind of ticking time bomb. “Can it explode?”

“No,” Dabi growled.

“…yet,” Shigaraki muttered, turning away.

Toga was already at his side, peeking at Aiko with genuine awe. “She’s so tiny. You think she’ll have your quirk?”

“Hope not,” Dabi muttered. “Not mine.”

Spinner walked over, scratching his head. “So… does this mean you're, like, settling down? Changing diapers between missions?”

Dabi scoffed. “Hardly. I still burn people for a living. I just… go home after now.”

And weirdly, none of them argued. None of them mocked him. In fact, a strange sort of hush fell over the room—a rare peace.

Toga pulled out her knife and declared, “If anyone tries to hurt her, I’ll gut them.”

Dabi looked up, eyes soft. “Thanks.”

The League didn’t understand much about love or family. But they did understand loyalty. And chaos. And revenge. So protecting a tiny, flame-born baby girl?

That… they could get behind

---

It was 3:14 a.m.

Dabi sat cross-legged on the floor of the hideout, shirtless, hair sticking up in every direction, dark circles under his eyes even darker than usual. Aiko was screaming like the world was ending, her tiny face bright red, and her little fists flailing like she was throwing punches at fate itself.

He stared at her. Then at the diaper. Then back at her.

“…I’ve blown up buildings with less stress than this.”

You groaned from the cot behind him, too sore and sleep-deprived to move. “You said you had it,” you mumbled.

“I did have it. Then she peed in my eye.”

Another wail came from Aiko, and Dabi winced like someone had shoved a knife in his ribs.

“Alright, alright, damn, we’re doing this.”

He opened a fresh diaper like it was an enemy he was about to fight. He glanced at the old one, holding it between two fingers like it might explode. “You’re lucky I love you, you little gremlin.”

You snorted.

After a solid three minutes of muttering threats at the diaper, several almost burns, and at least one moment where he looked genuinely afraid of baby wipes, Dabi somehow managed to get the new one on—crooked, but on.

Aiko immediately stopped crying.

She looked up at him with big, innocent eyes, hiccupped… and smiled.

He froze.

And for the first time in a long, long time… he smiled back.

“Okay. That was almost worth the trauma.”

He picked her up carefully, resting her tiny head against his chest. She nuzzled into his warm skin, calm now, soothed by the steady beat of his heart and the low hum of his fire.

“You’re gonna wreck me, aren’t you?” he whispered.

She gave a sleepy sigh.

“…Good. I probably deserve it.”

---

Dabi was dozing on the couch, shirtless, as usual. Aiko was perched on his chest like a sleepy little loaf, fists curled, head tucked under his jaw.

It was peaceful. Soft crackling from the fireplace. Your gentle humming in the background as you cleaned up.

And then—CHOMP.

“OW—what the hell!?”

Dabi sat up with a startled yelp, eyes wide, clutching his neck. Aiko blinked at him, innocent as ever… mouth smeared with drool and the tiniest red mark forming on his collarbone.

You leaned over, squinting.

“Is that… a hickey?”

Dabi stared at the baby. Then at you. Then back at the baby.

“She just—bit me. And sucked on my skin like some tiny mosquito demon.”

You lost it, laughing so hard you nearly dropped the bottle in your hand. “You got your first dad hickey. Officially initiated.”

“I burn people for fun, and this is what takes me out?”

Just then, Toga popped her head into the room—saw the mark on his neck and immediately let out a wolf whistle.

“Well, well, Dabi! Didn’t know you were into neck stuff.”

“It’s from the baby,” he growled.

“Sure it is,” she sang, winking.

By the time the rest of the League caught wind, rumors had spread.

Twice: “Dabi’s into bite play confirmed.”

Shigaraki: “Ew. Stop breeding.”

Spinner: “Should we get her teething rings or garlic and holy water?”

Dabi groaned, covering the mark with his hand.

But later that night, when it was just the three of you again, he looked at it in the mirror. The little bruise, round and oddly perfect. It hurt like hell.

And somehow… he loved it.

“She’s already leaving scars,” he muttered, tracing the spot with a smile. “Just like her mom.”

---

It started small.

You were feeding Aiko one afternoon—just you, her, and the peaceful hum of the hideout. You offered her a spoonful of mashed carrots with the usual sweet smile.

“Here comes the airplane—”

She stared at you. Then slapped the spoon clean out of your hand.

“…Excuse me?”

From the other room, Dabi laughed. “That’s my girl.”

You glared. “Don’t encourage her.”

But it only got worse.

Later that day, you tried again—with applesauce this time.

“No, Aiko. We don’t throw food.”

Aiko looked you dead in the eye and mumbled something that sounded a lot like:

“Sh’t.”

You froze.

“…What did you just say?”

From the couch, Dabi shouted, “What did she say?!”

“She said your favorite word.”

Dabi came striding in, picking her up with this massive, proud smirk on his face. “No way. Say it again, squirt.”

Aiko grinned. “Sh’t.”

You palmed your face. “Dabi, stop smiling.”

“I’m not! I’m—okay yeah, I am. But c’mon, listen to the attitude on her. She's feral.”

“Oh my god.”

It didn’t stop there.

By the end of the week, she had a whole little sass vocabulary going:

Glares when someone touches her snacks.

Mimics Dabi’s sighs perfectly.

Says “bruh” when her bottle falls.

And, most dangerously of all—the eye roll.

Toga was obsessed.

“She’s a tiny Dabi! But cuter. And less murder-y.”

Twice tried teaching her to say “Boom, baby!” after every fart. It worked. Too well.

Shigaraki banned her from the meeting room after she threw a pacifier at him mid-rant.

Dabi? He was beaming the entire time.

“Kid’s got fire,” he said proudly, arms crossed, scarred lip curled in a grin. “Just like her old man.”

You gave him a side-eye. “If she starts setting stuff on fire next week, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.”

(You both secretly loved it.)

---

It was raining.

Not the hard, violent kind that matched Dabi’s mood—just a steady drizzle outside the hideout, mist curling over cracked windows. You were curled up with a blanket, half-asleep, watching Aiko crawl around the dusty floor, babbling nonsense to herself.

Dabi leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, just watching her. He did that a lot these days—quiet, present in a way he never used to be.

Aiko picked up one of his gloves from the floor. Turned it over in her hands. Dropped it. Then looked up at him.

And said it.

“Dada.”

Silence.

The rain didn’t stop. The wind didn’t pause. But something in Dabi broke.

You sat up instantly. “Wait—did she just—?”

He didn’t move. His face had gone still, unreadable. Only his eyes gave it away—wide, full of something between shock and something too tender to name.

Aiko smiled at him like it was no big deal.

“Dada.”

Dabi walked over slowly. Dropped to his knees in front of her. She touched his cheek—right where the staples met burned skin—and giggled.

“Dada.”

He laughed. Just once. Rough, soft, stunned.

“Yeah, kid,” he whispered. His voice cracked. “That’s me.”

He pulled her close—not tight, just enough to tuck his chin over her tiny head.

You watched from the couch, a hand over your mouth, heart about to explode.

He’d been called a lot of things.

Villain. Monster. Traitor. Burner. Killer.

But Dada?

That one might’ve saved him.

---

The night was quieter than usual. The storm outside had finally slowed to a gentle patter, and the hideout was filled with nothing but the occasional crackling from the fireplace. The warmth of the flames danced across the walls, casting shadows as Dabi sat on the couch, Aiko nestled against him.

She was asleep now, her small chest rising and falling in that peaceful rhythm that made even the toughest villains pause. Dabi’s hand rested lightly on her back, the familiar weight of responsibility and love settling in his bones.

You were asleep in the other room, exhausted from the day’s chaos, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Dabi had nothing but time.

His eyes traced the small curve of Aiko’s face—so serene, so full of life. She was perfect. His daughter. His kid. The word felt foreign on his tongue, but so right.

He hadn't realized how much he needed this—this quiet, this peace, this tiny human who somehow softened everything he’d built himself into.

Carefully, Dabi let his fingers run through Aiko’s soft hair. He didn’t even think about it—he just did it. A tender motion, a simple gesture he could barely believe he was capable of.

Then, he started humming.

It was the song you always hummed to her when she was fussy, the tune that seemed to calm her every time. A melody so soft, so gentle, it made him forget the past for a moment and just exist in the now.

Aiko stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her little hand gripping the edge of his shirt as she snuggled closer. The soft sound of her breath filled the room, the night settling in deeper.

Dabi kept humming. His voice was low and unsteady, like a fire that only flickered, but in that moment, it was full of warmth—like he was finally allowing himself to feel everything he’d kept buried for so long.

He wasn’t a perfect father. Hell, he didn’t even know if he was a good one. But right now, as Aiko slept soundly in his arms, her tiny body rising and falling with each breath, he felt something he hadn’t in years—something like peace.

Aiko shifted again, this time her tiny mouth curling into a soft smile in her sleep, as if she felt the rhythm of his heart. He kissed the top of her head, his voice barely a whisper.

“I love you, kid.”

He said it so quietly, like it was something sacred, something only meant for her to hear.

And maybe she did. Maybe she always would.


Tags
2 weeks ago

"Operation: Loopy"

You were a strong, independent aspiring hero. You’d faced villains, explosions, and Bakugo’s screaming. But none of that prepared you for the wildest opponent yet…

…a wisdom tooth extraction.

You blinked awake, mouth stuffed with gauze, brain foggy, and vision blurry. The fluorescent lights above you hummed like a villain’s theme music. Was this Tartarus?

“She lives!” a dramatic voice shouted. That was—oh god—Denki Kaminari, filming you on his phone.

“GET THAT CAMERA OUTTA MY EYE SOCKET!” you bellowed. Or at least, you thought you bellowed. It came out more like: “Geff dat camma outta my faysalkit.”

Mina popped into view, laughing hysterically. “Girl, you sound like you’re summoning demons!”

You tried to sit up. “Iz dis… is dis my quirk? Am I… a duck?”

“Honestly? Maybe,” said Kirishima, gently pushing you back down. “You’re being super unbreakable right now, though. Respect.”

You squinted at him. “You got… rocks for skin. Are you okay? Like emotionally?”

“Wow, even under anesthesia, she checks in on us,” Tsuyu said calmly from the foot of the bed. “That’s kinda sweet.”

“I love all of you,” you mumbled dramatically, reaching for Todoroki’s face. “Especially you, Mr. Ice-and-Fire Cream Sandwich…”

“…I’m gonna pretend that was a compliment,” Todoroki muttered, letting you poke his cheek with your numb finger.

Bakugo, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, muttered, “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s a disaster.”

You gasped. “You take that back, Kacchan! I’m a beautiful disaster.”

The gauze puff in your mouth fell out mid-monologue and Denki nearly dropped his phone laughing. “We’re keeping that. That's going in the group chat AND your graduation video.”

Finally, the nurse arrived to check on you, only for you to gasp and shout, “WAIT. AM I STILL A DUCK?!”

“No, sweetie. You're not a duck.”

“...Disappointing.”


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2 weeks ago

Question would you do a class 1-b of the explosive love or is it truly over? (my lungs have been full of laughter from it all)

Explosive Love: Part 7 – Class 1-B’s Babysitting Disaster

A/n, I added jiro bc, why not🫡

Pairing: Kirishima x Fem!Reader

Featuring: Class 1-B and Their Unique Babysitting Experience

Genre: Chaos, Crack Comedy, Baby Gas Wars

Summary: After hearing about the legendary struggles of Class 1-A, Class 1-B believes they can handle things way better. They don’t need a plan—just confidence. Spoiler: They were wrong. Very, very wrong.

---

“We’ve got this!”

Kendo, confident as ever, waved her hand as she stared at the baby in Kirishima’s arms. “Class 1-B doesn’t need a fancy strategy. We’re heroes in training. This is nothing!”

Tetsutetsu pumped his fist in the air. “Yeah! We’re tough enough to handle anything!”

“You guys sure about this?” you asked, looking at your baby, who was already cooing and glaring in their direction.

“Totally! We’ve got teamwork! We’ve got brains!” Kendo grinned, a little too widely. “Let’s do this!”

Kirishima turned to you and whispered, “Should we warn them?”

You shook your head. “Let them learn the hard way. We survived this chaos. They will, too.”

---

T+5 Minutes:

The plan was simple: Kendo would handle the baby while the others prepared snacks and games.

“Alright, little one!” Kendo smiled down at the baby. “Ready for a fun day?”

The baby gurgled and farted.

“Hmm,” Kendo raised an eyebrow, but she pressed on. “That’s a little... unexpected. No biggie, though.”

PFFFT.

The others exchanged nervous glances.

“That was... powerful,” Ibara murmured.

Kendo, ever the optimist, ignored the baby’s warning signs and decided to try a gentle lullaby. “Hush little baby...”

PHBRRRTT.

Kendo paused, her smile faltering.

“That one had vibration,” Ibara noted, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay,” Kendo said, trying to keep her cool. “Maybe she’s just gassy. No big deal. Just... relax.”

---

T+12 Minutes:

The whole team was huddled in the living room now. Kendo was still holding the baby, though the team had taken up defensive positions.

Manga began sketching diagrams of escape routes. “I think we need a plan B... and C... and maybe D.”

Tetsutetsu, trying to impress, stood by with a bottle of milk. “Maybe this will help calm her down! I’ve got this!”

The baby eyed him suspiciously.

PFFFT.

Tetsutetsu jumped back like he’d been hit by a rocket. “WHAT THE HELL?!” he yelped, clutching the bottle like a shield.

Kendo sighed. “Okay. So, we’re not handling this as smoothly as I thought.”

---

T+22 Minutes:

Jurota was in charge of distracting the baby with toys while Kendo attempted a strategic diaper change.

“Jurota, you’ve got this, right?” Kendo asked, holding up a toy rattle. “She’s really into sound, so just—”

Before she could finish, the baby farted again. This time, it was a long one.

Jurota, who had been holding the rattle, dropped it and quickly backed away.

“I didn’t sign up for this! I thought it was just a normal baby!” Jurota cried, his face pale.

“I swear she’s aiming for me,” Tetsutetsu shouted from behind the couch. “I feel the pressure!”

---

T+35 Minutes:

The room was now a war zone.

Kendo, the ever-hopeful leader, was sweating. “We need to regroup,” she muttered. “We need... We need a strategic intervention!”

The baby, sensing weakness, let loose.

PFFFT

PBRRRRTTT

PBBT-TSSSSSS...

Kendo held her hands up. “Okay! We need a team effort! Shoji, you try distracting her with your extra arms. Ibara, you handle the snacks. Jurota, keep it together!”

Ibara carefully arranged some snacks. “I don’t think snacks are going to help this situation.”

“I’m gonna pass out,” Jurota groaned. “Is she cursed? Is this a curse?!”

Meanwhile, Jiro was completely overwhelmed. “Guys, I don’t have a soundproof speaker for this level of... chaos.”

Manga finally gave up and wrote: “Subject: baby. Threat Level: Explosive.”

---

T+45 Minutes:

Kendo had lost all hope.

“I’m sorry, I was too optimistic,” she muttered.

The baby looked up at her with big, innocent eyes and let out one final, massive fart.

Everyone in the room flinched.

“THAT’S IT! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” Tetsutetsu yelled, running toward the door. “THIS IS HELL!”

“We... we didn’t even try the baby wipes,” Kendo said softly, defeated.

---

Final Tally:

Kendo: Crushed by baby gas.

Tetsutetsu: Traumatized and refuses to even look at a bottle.

Manga: Analyzed the situation, concluded they had all made a terrible mistake.

Shoji: Vowed never to babysit again.

Jurota: Physically and emotionally drained.

Ibara: Retired from all babysitting duties.

Jiro: Still recovering from the sonic levels of flatulence.

Momo: Watching from the sidelines, unaffected, with a notebook full of new inventions for future diaper duty.

---

When you and Kirishima returned, you found Class 1-B sprawled on the floor, completely broken.

Kendo weakly raised a hand. “She’s... a powerhouse.”

“She’s a menace,” Tetsutetsu whimpered.

“And we’re never doing this again,” Manga finished, his face still pale.

The baby, in your arms, giggled.

Kirishima smiled warmly, “Good job, everyone! It’s a learning experience!”

You nodded. “Yeah, let’s never do this again.”


Tags
2 weeks ago

“Attack of the Morning Hair: Y/N vs. Gravity”

Or: The Day Her Hair Committed a War Crime

---

It started like any other peaceful morning in the UA dorms. Birds were chirping. Kaminari was already screaming because he shocked himself trying to toast bread. The usual.

Then came her.

The common room door swung open with the force of divine judgment, and in stumbled Y/N — half-asleep, wearing oversized socks, a hoodie that probably wasn’t hers (possibly Aizawa’s??), and…

Her. Hair.

Complete chaos.

Her bangs were standing completely straight up, like they’d seen something horrifying and never recovered. The rest of her long hair was sticking out in every direction, defying physics like it had just fought off a tornado and won.

It wasn’t just messy.

It was sentient.

Sero spat out his cereal. “WHAT IN THE—are you okay?!”

Y/N blinked, bleary-eyed, gripping a mug with nothing in it.

“…No.”

Bakugo actually paused mid-toast-chewing. “The hell happened to you?”

“I slept wrong.”

“That’s not sleep. That’s a spiritual possession,” Jirou muttered, genuinely concerned.

Todoroki tilted his head. “Is it supposed to… be like that?”

Y/N scratched her head, making it worse. A piece of hair slapped her in the face. “I don’t know. It was normal last night. Then I woke up and looked in the mirror and it was like—”

She held up her mug like a Shakespearean actor.

“—I HAVE SEEN THINGS. I HAVE BEEN THROUGH BATTLES.”

Mina was wheezing. “Girl, your bangs are standing straighter than Iida’s moral compass.”

“I thought it was a bird nest at first,” Kaminari whispered to Kirishima. “I almost offered her sunflower seeds.”

Midoriya approached gently, like she might explode. “D-Do you want help detangling it?”

“I think it’s sentient now,” Y/N muttered. “If you touch it, it might bite.”

“I bet Present Mic’s hair bowed in respect when it saw yours,” Sero added.

Y/N slowly turned her head, her bangs refusing to move like a stiff wind couldn’t touch them. “They said if your hair touches the ceiling, it’s good luck.”

Momo was trying not to laugh but failed. “What ceiling? You’ve breached airspace. You’re legally an aircraft.”

Then—Midnight walked in.

She stopped in her tracks. Stared. Then, with the most serious voice she could manage:

“…You look like the final boss of a shampoo commercial gone wrong.”

Y/N raised one eyebrow. “Or the main character of an edgy anime where my quirk is just being really dramatic.”

“Name it,” Kaminari begged. “Name the anime.”

“‘Frizz: The Reckoning.’”

Bakugo started laughing so hard he had to turn around. “I take it back. You’re not a villain. You’re just unholy.”

“Should I put it in a bun?” Y/N asked, attempting to gather the chaos.

“No,” Todoroki said immediately. “You should document this. Scientists need to study it.”

---

One Hour Later…

Her hair was finally tamed with the combined effort of Momo’s entire salon set, six clips, three bobby pins, and a prayer.

But the legend lived on.

A photo of “Morning Y/N” became the new meme in Class 1-A’s group chat, complete with captions like:

“Quirk: Bedhead Beast Mode”

“Power level: Over 9000 follicles of fury”

“Local teen scares away villains with sheer hair volume”

“Bakugo’s explosions fear HER now”

---

The End…?

(Or is the hair still out there… waiting… rising again at the next 7AM wakeup call?)


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2 weeks ago

"Secret’s Out"

Edgeshot prided himself on precision—both in the field and in life. He had slipped in and out of the hospital with the skill only the #4 Pro Hero could muster, careful not to attract attention. The media didn’t know. The commission didn’t know. Not even his closest colleagues.

And that’s how he liked it.

This was his peace—his sanctuary with you and your newborn son. And he wasn’t ready to share that with the chaos of the hero world.

Unfortunately, fate—and Present Mic’s big mouth—had other plans.

---

It started innocently enough. A casual patrol meeting at the agency. The usual crew—Endeavor, Mirko, Best Jeanist, Hawks, and of course, Present Mic—sat around the table throwing back caffeine like it was oxygen.

Edgeshot stood at the edge, arms folded, face unreadable as always. Calm. Controlled.

Until Hawks strolled in late, twirling a familiar beanie in his hand.

"Yo, Shinya," Hawks said with a smirk, holding up the tiny gray hat with a small embroidered duck. "You, uh, drop this?"

Time stopped.

Edgeshot's eyes flicked to the beanie. His son’s beanie.

"...Where did you get that?" he asked, voice perfectly flat.

"I was flying by the hospital yesterday. Saw a nurse wave it around outside the window. Said someone left it. Had a tag inside that said ‘Shin Jr.’," Hawks said with an exaggerated shrug. "Figured it was a sidekick or... surprise, surprise?"

The room went silent.

Then:

"No way," Mirko laughed, sitting up straight. "Edgeshot has a baby?!"

Best Jeanist narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Hmm... That would explain the recent increase in tactical leave. And the softer demeanor."

"You’ve been smiling lately," Endeavor grumbled, clearly offended by the idea of anyone having joy.

Present Mic practically leapt out of his chair. "OH MY GOD, SHINYA'S A DAD?!" he howled. "WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?!"

Edgeshot, surrounded and betrayed by a single forgotten beanie, let out a long sigh through his nose.

"...Yes," he said quietly. "I have a son. His name is Ren. And I’d prefer to keep it private."

The teasing exploded instantly.

"Uncle Jeanist has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?" Jeanist mused.

"I CALL GODMOTHER!" Mirko yelled, punching the air.

"Does he have wings like me?" Hawks teased, tossing the beanie back.

Present Mic was already brainstorming a baby shower playlist.

Edgeshot stared into the middle distance, wondering if he could sew his vocal cords into a noose.

---

Later that night, he returned home, your baby curled peacefully on his chest as he recounted the day’s chaos.

"They know now," he murmured to you, gently stroking your son’s head.

You laughed softly, brushing hair from his face. "You knew they’d find out eventually."

"I was hoping for at least six months," he said with mock despair. "Now Jeanist’s talking about matching denim for toddlers."

You snorted. "Better than Endeavor suggesting fireproof diapers."

He smiled—soft and small—and leaned his head against yours. In the background, your son stirred and sighed, clutching the edge of Edgeshot’s hero cape like it was his whole world.

Let them tease. Let them laugh.

Because now they knew exactly what he was fighting for.


Tags
2 weeks ago

"Coughing Crisis: A Heroic Interruption"

It was one of those days at U.A. High.

Everyone was gathered in the common room, the mood grim. Aizawa had just finished debriefing the students on a potential new threat—some villain group with a name so edgy it sounded like they were formed in a Hot Topic parking lot.

All Might stood solemnly, arms crossed. "This is no joke. The League of Villains may be making a comeback."

Bakugo scowled. "Tch. Let 'em try. I'll blow 'em to hell."

Midoriya was furiously scribbling notes, mumbling strategy ideas. Todoroki looked like he was calculating the villain’s power levels with sheer brainwaves. Even Kaminari was managing to look serious for once.

Then, just as the room hit peak intensity—

"KHHHHHHHHHH–KAHHHHHHHH–HHHKHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Everyone's heads whipped around.

It was you. Red-faced. Eyes wide. Wheezing. Coughing. Dying, possibly.

"OH MY GOD SHE’S CHOKING!" Mina screamed, knocking over a chair in her rush.

"I'm not trained for this!" Kaminari panicked, spinning in a circle like a confused Roomba.

Bakugo: "SOMEONE GET HER A DAMN WATER BEFORE SHE ASPHYXIATES AND DIES IN THE MIDDLE OF A STRATEGY BRIEFING!"

Midoriya already had a water bottle in your mouth and was nervously patting your back with the intensity of a malfunctioning massage chair. "Are you okay?! Do you need—wait, what's your quirk again? Can it fix this?! No, wait, that's not how lungs work—"

"I—I just—" you gasped between coughs, one hand in the air like you were accepting an Oscar. "I inhaled a chip wrong."

There was silence. Like, dead silence.

Then Kirishima, voice full of genuine awe: "Damn. She really said 'crunch' and almost flatlined."

Bakugo facepalmed so hard it echoed. "We're out here trying to save the world and this extra’s getting taken down by a Lays."

All Might turned away and coughed into his hand to hide his laugh. It didn’t work. Present Mic wasn’t even hiding it—he was already on the floor, crying.

You gave a thumbs up with one hand, the other still clutching your water bottle like it was your emotional support beverage. "Still alive. Kinda."

Todoroki blinked. “That was the most dramatic thing I’ve seen all week. And I watched Bakugo punch a microwave.”

“IT SHORT-CIRCUITED FIRST!” Bakugo yelled.

---

And from that day forward, every time there was a serious meeting, someone made sure to have water on hand.

You, the girl who lived through The Chip Incident, had earned your spot among heroes.

But also maybe needed to chew more carefully.


Tags
2 weeks ago

''Sticky Situations and Stone Walls"

In the prestigious halls of U.A. High, Minoru Mineta was infamous for two things: his questionable morals and his Quirk, Pop Off. Most students had learned to keep him at arm's length—some, a full hallway away. But what nobody expected was for him to have a twin brother.

Enter Mamoru Mineta—tall, stone-faced, and emotionally impenetrable. His Quirk, Stonewall, allowed him to generate massive slabs of concrete-like armor around his body, making him a literal and metaphorical brick wall. He walked into Class 1-B without a word, instantly drawing attention. Not for being flashy—but because of how normal he was.

Rumors flew.

“Wait, he’s Mineta’s twin?!”

“Are we sure? Maybe he’s just cursed to look like him.”

“Plot twist: Mineta is the evil twin.”

Unlike Minoru, Mamoru didn’t chase girls—he didn’t chase anything. He followed the rules. He trained harder than anyone. He rarely spoke, but when he did, it hit like a punch to the gut—blunt, honest, and painfully grounded.

Minoru hated him.

Well, kind of.

Okay, not really.

Because despite the endless teasing, the girls fawning over Mamoru, the constant comparisons—Mamoru always had his back. He never joined the others in mocking Minoru. In fact, he defended him. Quietly. Behind the scenes.

One day, when Mineta got caught peeking again and was nearly expelled, Mamoru stepped in.

“He’s stupid, not evil,” he said calmly to Aizawa. “Let me handle it.”

Aizawa blinked. “You want to vouch for him?”

Mamoru nodded. “He’s my idiot. I’ll keep him in check.”

And he did. Kinda. Sorta.

There was something oddly wholesome about seeing the two walk side-by-side: one a walking disaster with grapes for hair, the other a towering fortress of chill. They bickered like fire and ice. But when a villain attacked and Mamoru took a hit to shield his brother, something shifted.

Minoru realized: his brother wasn’t trying to change him.

He was just trying to protect him.


Tags
3 weeks ago

“So We’re Just Gonna Pretend That Didn’t Happen?”

Or: The Morning After Y/N’s Brain Went Rated R in HD

---

The sun was shining. Birds were chirping. The UA dorm was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Suspiciously peaceful.

Y/N strolled into the kitchen in fuzzy socks and a shirt that said “Unbothered. Hydrated. Inappropriate.”

The moment she entered, everyone fell silent.

Mina sipped her smoothie too fast and choked. Kaminari avoided eye contact like she was a tax collector. Momo looked like she had spent the night praying.

Iida actually stood up and saluted her.

Y/N blinked. “...Why do you all look like I committed war crimes?”

“You did,” Jirou said, deadpan.

“You said things,” added Uraraka, blushing furiously.

Y/N grinned. “What, I spoke truth. That movie scene was art. Michelangelo could never.”

“YOU CALLED HIM THE ‘BUFFET OF SIN’,” Kaminari yelled, dramatically flopping on the table.

“‘Marriott of Sin,’ actually,” she corrected. “Don’t misquote my genius.”

Bakugo entered the room, took one look at her, and immediately U-turned out.

“Ohhh no you don’t!” Y/N called after him. “You ran from the boat scene like it personally attacked you!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!”

“He’s flustered,” Kirishima whispered.

“‘Flustered’ is generous. Man’s one more spicy scene away from spontaneously combusting.”

Aizawa entered mid-sentence, wearing sunglasses and carrying two coffees.

“If any of you say the word ‘buffet’ today, I’m deducting hero points.”

Y/N raised a hand. “Does it count if it’s in context—”

“NO.”

---

Later That Day – In Class

Todoroki turned to Y/N quietly.

“…You said that if your partner doesn’t make you ‘reconsider religion’—what did that mean?”

Everyone around them stopped breathing.

Y/N turned slowly, sipped her water like it was tea, and said:

“It means, Shoto… that there’s a type of intimacy that feels like you got spiritually suplexed by an angel. And you ascend a little. Like… you see your ancestors clapping.”

Todoroki nodded seriously. “That sounds… intense.”

“It’s the goal, my guy.”

“Is that a normal expectation?”

“For me? Absolutely. If I’m not crying and making dolphin noises, what are we even doing?”

From behind them, Jirou whispered, “I need a therapist and a new school.”

---

Lunch Time – Revenge Plots & Regrets

Bakugo finally confronted her while they were eating lunch.

“You just had to run your mouth, didn’t you?”

Y/N blinked innocently. “I run my mouth all the time. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“In front of everyone?! While the screen was still fogged up?!”

“Would you rather I waited until after the credits and did a full analysis?”

He glared. “If I ever hear the word ‘spine is decorative’ again—”

“Say it and I’ll Venmo you $5.”

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!”

“I’m an agent of chaos with a subscription to bad decisions.”

Kirishima whispered to Denki, “Honestly, she’s terrifying.”

“...Lowkey kinda hot though?”

“DUDE.”

---

Bonus: Present Mic found out later and just yelled,

“YEAHHHHH!! YOU’RE SPEAKING FROM THE HEART, BABY!”

Midnight has officially claimed Y/N as her “spirit child.”

---

To be continued… if Class 1-A survives her mouth.


Tags
3 weeks ago

“Y/N vs. The Filter (Spoiler: There Is None)”

or: That Time Y/N Roasted the Entire Class Before Lunch

---

It started during homeroom.

Y/N had walked into class, late (again), sipping a suspiciously large energy drink and wearing two mismatched socks and a hoodie that definitely wasn’t hers.

“Morning,” she muttered, plopping into her seat.

Silence.

Aizawa raised a brow. “Y/N. Why are you late?”

Y/N blinked. “Because society.”

“…Try again.”

“Because my alarm went off, and I just didn’t respect it.”

“…One more time.”

“I stopped to watch a pigeon fight a squirrel. It felt important.”

Aizawa sighed. “Whatever. Sit down.”

“Oh, I am sitting,” she said, then looked around the room. “And judging.”

Everyone turned to her.

That was when it began.

---

THE NO-FILTER MONOLOGUE

“Denki, you have the fashion sense of a confused lemon. I love you, but why are you wearing two necklaces? Are you dating yourself?”

“Bakugo, I mean this with love — you scream like a dying vacuum cleaner and somehow still pull.”

“Iida, why do you run like someone poured espresso in your engine oil?”

“Todoroki. King. You look like you glitch in real life. Like I stare at you too long and forget my PIN number.”

“Ochako, I adore you, but you sneeze like a cartoon bunny and it freaks me out every time.”

“Sero’s elbows scare me.”

“Sato has main character energy but like, from a sports anime that got canceled too early.”

“Jirou’s music taste makes me feel like I’m about to be stabbed in an emotionally fulfilling way.”

“Momo, your brain is terrifying. I feel like you could invent a murder weapon out of boba tea.”

“Aoyama blinds me once a week. That’s an HR issue.”

“Mina’s energy gives off 'first one to die in a zombie movie but make it iconic.'”

Kirishima: “What about me?”

“You’re too pure. If you ever turn evil, we’re all screwed. You’d kill us and apologize mid-swing.”

Midnight walked in halfway through this and said, “Oh? What’s going on here?”

Y/N turned slowly. “Hi. Love the outfit. You look like if dominatrix Barbie became a pro hero.”

Midnight choked.

Present Mic entered with a coffee and blinked. “Vibe feels chaotic in here. What’d I miss?”

Y/N pointed at him with no hesitation. “You sound like an auctioneer possessed by dubstep.”

“THANK you,” he grinned. “Finally, someone sees it.”

Aizawa, rubbing his temples: “Y/N, what is wrong with you today?”

She sipped her drink. “I had four hours of sleep and a can of something called ‘Monster Lightning Rage X-TREME.’ I can see sound now.”

Bakugo slammed his desk. “WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!”

Y/N turned calmly. “Genetics and unresolved trauma.”

---

Later, in the dorms…

“Do you regret anything you said today?” Uraraka asked.

Y/N paused. “Not even a little.”

“Not even the elbow comment?”

“I meant what I said, Sero’s elbows look like they have side quests.”

Sero: “You know what? Fair.”

---

To Be Continued…


Tags
3 weeks ago

“Chronicles of Chaos: Y/N Edition”

Or: That Time UA Regretted Letting Her Out of the Infirmary

---

1. The Great Kitchen Fire (That Technically Wasn’t Her Fault)

It started with a simple craving: pancakes.

It ended with the fire alarm going off, Sato screaming, and Y/N standing on the kitchen counter fanning smoke with a cutting board.

“I said I knew what I was doing!” she yelled over the alarm.

“You poured orange juice in the pan instead of oil!” Sato cried.

“I was improvising! It’s called culinary jazz!”

The microwave exploded.

Present Mic kicked the door open in his pajamas. “WHO SUMMONED ME WITH CHAOS?”

“I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO FLIP ONE,” Y/N wailed.

---

2. The Invisible Wall Incident

Hatsume had been testing a new tech that projected invisible energy barriers.

Y/N, naturally, ran into it face-first with the force of a charging rhino.

“OW. WHY IS THE AIR HARD?!”

“You walked into the new prototype,” Hatsume said cheerfully.

“You should’ve put up a sign!”

“It’s INVISIBLE.”

“I’m suing you for emotional damage and nose betrayal.”

The class watched her dramatically slide down the force field like a tragic soap opera character, leaving behind a forehead print on the invisible wall.

---

3. That Time She Thought a Villain Was a Cosplayer

It was during a field trip.

Y/N wandered off. (Again.)

She came across a guy in a full villain outfit, mask and all, standing ominously in an alley.

“Ooh, your cosplay is AMAZING,” she said, circling him. “Is this original? Or based on some underground manga?”

The villain, confused, hesitated. “Uh… I’m robbing a store.”

“WOW, dedication to the bit!”

“I literally just set a building on fire.”

“You’re really selling it! I can’t even tell if you’re method acting or—WAIT, IS THAT A REAL KNIFE?!”

She came back five minutes later, singed and out of breath.

“Okay so plot twist, that was not a Comic Con side quest.”

---

4. Her Deep, Emotional War With the UA Vending Machine

She was one yen short.

Just. One.

Y/N smacked the machine. Sweet. Nothing.

She begged. It ignored her.

She yelled, “I HAVE SUFFERED FOR THIS SNACK, GIVE ME MY SALTY JUSTICE!”

Bakugo walked by, slapped the machine once, and it coughed out not only her chips, but a second bonus bag.

“I loosened it for you,” Y/N muttered.

Bakugo didn’t even stop walking. “You’re pathetic.”

“I’M THE PEOPLE’S CHAMPION,” she shouted after him, holding both chip bags above her head like trophies.

---

5. The Time She Tried to “Train” the Dorm’s Pet Turtle

Someone brought a turtle back to the dorms. Bad decision. Y/N decided it had “hero potential.”

She built it a cape out of a sock, taped on a cardboard mask, and named it “Shellshock.”

“Today, we conquer the common room,” she whispered to it dramatically.

She tried to make it do laps in the sink.

It turned around and pooped on her hand.

“This is betrayal,” she whispered, looking into its eyes.

Shellshock blinked. Unbothered. Unapologetic.

---

6. Late Night Philosophy (A.K.A. Sleep-Deprived Chaos)

2:39 AM. She wandered into the lounge in fuzzy slippers, wrapped in a blanket, holding a spoon.

Not eating. Just holding it.

“Do you think All Might ever stubbed his toe in his buff form and cried in his skinny form so no one would know?” she asked Kaminari.

“...Go to sleep.”

“Do frogs know they’re frogs?”

“Y/N.”

“Do we all technically taste like chicken?”

“Y/N, PLEASE.”


Tags
3 weeks ago

Blasty Brat & Baby Bear

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x (platonic) Chubby Little Sister OC

Tags: sibling vibes, soft moments, light bullying, Mitsuki being a mom, grumpy x sunshine

---

“You’re seriously making me babysit her?”

Bakugo’s scowl could’ve cracked concrete. Arms crossed, eyes twitching in irritation, he stared down at the chubby little girl peeking out from behind his mom’s legs.

Mitsuki rolled her eyes. “She’s your sister, Katsuki. And I have errands. You can either watch her or listen to me scream for an hour. Pick.”

He groaned like he was being sentenced to death. “She cries all the damn time.”

“I do not!” she squeaked, voice breaking halfway through. Her round cheeks were already turning pink, her hands clutching the hem of her too-big t-shirt. “You’re just mean!”

“And you’re a crybaby,” Bakugo snapped, already turning toward the living room. “C’mon, Baby Bear. Let’s get this over with.”

She blinked. “Baby… bear?”

“Yeah. Round, soft, and whiny. Don’t get snot on the couch.”

---

At first, she avoided him—tiptoeing around, too scared to even ask to change the channel. Bakugo ignored her just as much, only occasionally tossing a jab like:

“Stop stomping, you sound like a baby Godzilla.”

“Why are you always eating something?”

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not gonna cry with you.”

But Mitsuki kept forcing them together.

Board games. Movie nights. Grocery trips. He even got roped into walking her home from school once.

And slowly—very slowly—things shifted.

---

She started sitting closer.

He stopped rolling his eyes when she talked.

She’d bring him little snacks she made (badly).

He’d ruffle her hair when she got nervous.

And when she got picked on at school for her weight?

Bakugo showed up the next day, leaned on the classroom doorframe, and said loud enough for everyone to hear:

“You mess with my sister again, I’ll turn your desks into kindling. Got it?”

She didn’t cry that day.

But she did tell him he looked cool.

And for the first time, he only called her “Baby Bear” once that whole day.

---


Tags
3 weeks ago

"Needles & Nonsense"

Summary: Reader’s stubbornness kicks back in, and the adults are not having it

The hospital room was too white.

The walls. The sheets. The buzzing light. It all made your skin crawl. Even worse was the IV line in your arm—a clear tube taped down to your skin like some parasite, slowly dripping fluids into your veins like you were a broken plant.

You glared at it like it had personally insulted you.

You had been stable for two days. That’s what they said. “Stable,” whatever that meant. You still felt like garbage. You couldn’t walk more than five feet without your knees giving out. But that was beside the point.

The point was the IV.

Disgusting. Cold. Invasive. You hated how it felt inside your arm, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. Every few hours a nurse would come by and adjust the bag, and you had to just sit there like a helpless child. It made your skin crawl. You weren’t even scared of needles, not really—it was the being plugged in part that made your chest tight.

And honestly?

You were done.

You looked toward the door. No nurses. No heroes. The hallway was quiet. Probably lunchtime.

You glanced down at your arm.

“This is a terrible idea,” you muttered under your breath.

Then you yanked the IV out.

It came free with a squelch and a tiny spurt of blood, and you slapped your hand over it with a hiss. “Ow, ow, ow—grossgrossgross—”

A few drops of saline hit the sheets as the IV line swung freely like a limp vine. You shoved it aside like it was cursed, pressing a tissue to your bleeding arm.

You felt instantly better.

But the second you relaxed, the door opened.

“…What the hell are you doing?” Aizawa’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

You flinched.

“I was—uh,” you started, hiding the bloody tissue behind your back. “Nothing?”

He strode over in three long steps, eyes scanning the scene. The IV was dangling. The bandage was slipping. Your arm was still dripping faintly.

“You pulled it out?!” he barked.

You winced. “It felt gross, okay?! I’m not a science experiment—!”

“You’re a hospital patient,” Aizawa snapped, grabbing a clean cloth and pressing it to your arm. “This is here to keep you alive. You don’t get to decide to sabotage your care because it’s ‘gross.’”

“I didn’t sabotage anything!” you protested. “I’m just—ugh—it’s my body, let me have some say!”

“You lost that say when you let your body fall apart,” he shot back.

You went quiet.

Aizawa immediately regretted his words. His eyes softened, and his voice dropped. “…I didn’t mean it like that.”

But the silence between you stretched like a cracked window.

“I just…” you said after a while, voice small. “It made me feel like I wasn’t even in control anymore. Like everyone’s poking me and watching me and I’m not even—me anymore.”

Aizawa let out a slow breath. “Okay. Okay. I get it.”

You blinked. “You do?”

“I do,” he nodded. “But that doesn’t change the fact that this is still serious. You need those fluids.”

“…What if I drink more instead?” you offered weakly. “Like, a million electrolytes. And juice. And water. I’ll turn into a human Capri Sun.”

Aizawa gave you the driest look known to man.

“I’m being reasonable,” you added.

“You ripped a needle out of your arm.”

“...Emotionally reasonable, then.”

Before he could reply, the door burst open.

Midnight stormed in, Recovery Girl behind her.

“What happened? The monitor started freaking out—oh my god, what did you do?!” Midnight gasped.

“She pulled out her IV,” Aizawa said, tone flat.

Recovery Girl looked like she might combust on the spot. “You what?!”

“It felt gross!” you shouted, holding your arm like a wounded kitten.

Midnight clutched her head. “You’ve been in this hospital for two days and already started acting like an escaped gremlin.”

You huffed. “I wasn’t escaping. I was... asserting autonomy.”

Aizawa held up the bloody cloth. “With blood loss.”

Recovery Girl marched over and sat you up straighter with surprising strength. “If you do that again, I will have someone sit on you. Understood?”

“...Kinky,” you mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Mmhm.”

Midnight crossed her arms. “Do you hate the needle part or the ‘hooked up to something’ part?”

“…Both,” you admitted. “But mostly the hooked up part. It’s like I’m a USB stick.”

Recovery Girl pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. We’ll switch you to oral hydration and supplements if your blood pressure stabilizes over the next 12 hours. One more dip and you’re getting a double IV.”

You shivered. “Fine. Deal. Oral hydration or death.”

Midnight raised an eyebrow. “Dramatic much?”

“You’re literally talking to someone who steam-bleeds and passed out running down a hallway,” you said, deadpan. “Dramatic is my brand.”

Aizawa exhaled. “I’m too tired for this.”

“I’m tired, you’re just tired of me,” you teased.

He didn’t even crack a smile.

Midnight walked over and ruffled your hair. “Let’s just try to keep the holes in your arm where they belong, yeah?”

You nodded. “No promises.”

“Reader.”

“Okay, okay—I’ll be good. Kind of. Mostly. I’ll aim for like... 70%.”

Midnight looked at Aizawa. “That’s the best we’re gonna get.”

Aizawa just rubbed his temples again.


Tags
1 month ago

i NEED to know where you could buy shirts(?) Similar to what aoyama wears in entrance exam arc... it is the embodiment of perfection.... i need to wear it too.................

AND THE BELT OFC

Literally all his wardrobe


Tags
2 months ago

a little bit of tw?

so i just randomly have a headcanon that yuga starts scratching his palms or other open skin when he is stressed.


Tags
3 months ago

abt the quirk belt

so we have seen it being like... metallic. But honestly it would make it really uncomfortable for long-term use, not talking abt permanent... plus the way its built may cause scratches on the skin. So my theory is that it actually has some textile underneath the metal so its comfortable

Also i think yuga has a second belt which he uses in daily life. Its more thin and discreet. Why do i think he has it? Just look at hos manga profile page... theres no sigh of the quirkbelt showing. So i was like "oh he must have a thinner one"

(Yeah, the belt we saw is looking quite massive and would definitely be visible under thr clothrs)


Tags
3 months ago

ive seen a lot of tfem aoyama hcs, but hear me out on...

Tmasc aoyama

Does anyone get the vision


Tags
3 months ago

thinking abt yuga's internet life

So i think hes not pro-blogger at all, he prob just has a tiktok account where he could post some fandom stuff (im sure he has some fandoms), and maybe moots. I think he vents there sometimes, too, but its impossible to tell the whole situation because what if afo finds it there, too?

He may avoid letting his parents take his phone, being worried about them finding out about his vents and getting upset. (And if we are talking abt overprotectiveness of his family, they may also not approve him having moots, bc "what if they are old creepy villains?!")

He sometimes uses his phone if he is really, REALLY bored, not often


Tags
4 months ago

your daily dose of random guy projecting onto your fav

I saw a lot of people assuming that aoyama has never had friends before izuku, but i lean more towards "1 good friend in the past" theory.

Like what id aoyama had a friend before all that quirk thing ? Or some time after ? But some circumstances (going to differrent schools?) made them part, and they dudnt cross paths again.

So izuku isnt the FIRST friend for aoyama in general, but the first friend who he could build a deeper connection with, since a lot has changed since their childhood.


Tags
4 months ago

you cant tell me that aoyama's parents ARE NOT overprotective.

I think that their desire to give their child everything he needs led to them getting overly attached to yuga (i can picture that he couldnt even stay at home alone until like 13). Sometimes overprotectiveness goes overboard, and the afo situation they got thrmselves and yuga into illustrates it perfectly


Tags
5 months ago

writing a fic where one of the plot lines is something like “aoyamas quirk damages him bad enough he needs surgery”

oh. (Its a surprised oh not bad one)

I would gladly read it if i had a possibility (for certain reasons i cant use ao3 or other fic platforms) even tho i would probably be on edge the whole time...

Uhmmm what else can i say? Bonne chance (good luck)


Tags
5 months ago

aoyama's parents probably spent a fortune on stuff for their son's quirk related medical issues

probably so... especially first days before receiving the belt support bc i imagine that little part of his life was AWFULLY PAINFUL (imagina a literal laser in you)


Tags
5 months ago

a hc that aoyama looks into any mirroring surface he sees. Even in the shower (it makes the imagine quite... funny, tho)

I think he likes his physical appearance in general, hes mostly upset with his personality/actions


Tags
6 months ago

No bc actually does aoyama take his belt off when taking a shower?? Like skin under it also needs to be cleaned, but what does he do to the quirk?


Tags
6 months ago

hc that aoyama completely despises that cheap cheese in burgers or pasta in some cafes (I KNOW THAT ITS NOT PARMEZAN)

in addition: have you ever tasted cheap brie??? its like paper


Tags
6 months ago

headcanon abt aoyama and night lens

what is night lens, first of all?

-night lens, also known as orthocerathologic lens, work like contacts. Except you put them on for a night and take them off in the morning, and they are not as soft.

So i hc that Yuga's quirk is bad for his eyesight so he uses night lens (nl) instead of glasses, since you only wear them at night and at the day your eyes are free.

(I know a theory abt his quirk being harmful for his body, but its a theme for an another post)

But you cannot cry in night lens so he doesnt cry himself to sleep:(

(He does it in the evening)

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ


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6 months ago

aoyama haircare routine headcanons

ofc they are all self-projection (how could be the other way in my case)

Butttt, here we go:

☆ Yuga does not use the hair curler/straightener thingy. His hair arent naturally very wavy, either. He just twirls the ends with a hairbrush when drying them

☆He has to re-twirl the ends of the hair every day, bc they straighten up during the night

☆He also spends a plenty of time making The strand look perfect. Yuga has a little habit of fixing it

☆His shampoo is from some premium line and has sparkles in it!!

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗☆*。ᯓ★⋰˚☆₊˚✩彡-͟͟͞☆☆彡˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗


Tags
6 months ago

the urge to talk to horikoshi abt how much he has thought through aoyama's lore and give ideas (aka self-projection) has become unbearable. im moving to japan right now!!


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