Headcannon, That If Something Happened To Upset Them, There Would Be More People To Comfort Deku Than

Headcannon, that if something happened to upset them, there would be more people to comfort Deku than Katsuki.

Words. 1.0k~

Notes. I'm sorry I always write bakugou so sad, but hey, it gets me the notes. I hope this makes up for not posting much bakugou content in awhile.

Several years after his unexpected retirement, the crushing death of All Might shook the world once again.

It was no quiet affair, people from all around the globe came together to pay their respects for the fallen hero. His loyal students made certain that everything the Symbol of Peace sacrificed for the people he loved would never be forgotten.

Standing amongst the hundreds of solemn people dressed in black like ants at his funeral, made you realize just how small and insignificant you really are.

The selfless actions of one man led to the gratitude and inspiration of so many when he did everything in his power to leave this world, better than it was when he first came into it.

While you didn't know him personally, you met him through your friends from high school. Sweet, bubbly Midoriya who you went to school with, would never miss an opportunity to ramble on and on about his childhood hero.

Seeing him grieve now made a wave of sadness envelop your heart in a choke hold. His regularly bright, emerald eyes that held all the worlds hope in them, glistened with shed and unshed tears.

The great Symbol of Peace's successor wept for his fallen mentor, along with his friends who mourned with him.

Rain began to pour from the skies as you moved to join them. A melancholy smile worked its way onto your face at the irony. It seemed as if the heavens itself lamented at the loss.

You silently thanked the weatherman for being accurate in his predictions for once as you unfolded your umbrella.

The others around you did the same, some deciding that it was a sign to leave and retreated to their cars. Looking around, you paused when you caught sight of one figure hunched over near the lavishly decorated tomb for the hero.

The distinct ash blonde head was unmistakable, and you noticed that his usually annoyingly sharp and messy hair was drooping sadly from the downpour and lack of an umbrella.

You spared a glance at Midoriya to see that he was not covered by just one, but multiple umbrellas from several people over his place on the ground. Even Kirishima and the rest of his closer friends were standing with him.

While Midoriya had more than a handful of people to rub his back comfortingly and murmurer reassuring words to him, ― you realized that no one seemed to notice just how hard it was on the #2 hero.

Everyone seemed to have forgotten that Deku was not the only hero mentored by their beloved champion.

He looked so fucking alone — abandoned.

Suddenly, you wanted to slap yourself for not noticing earlier. His dark clothes befitting the occasion were soaked through from the rain and stuck uncomfortably to his skin, and you didn't miss the way his shoulders shook with silent shudders.

It made you almost uncomfortable to see him like this, with his usual attitude, it felt utterly wrong to watch someone like him look so broken.

Even if offering to assist did get your ass hurled into the outer reaches of space, you couldn't sit idly by and watch him suffer like this.

You moved to make your way to him when he suddenly collapsed onto his knees. Startled, you hurried your pace, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the state he was in.

His hand was curled tightly in his hair in a way that looked painful, he looked up suddenly when you moved your umbrella over him. Your grip on it tightens when you see his eyes all glossy and red with tears, it makes the carmine of his irises look dull and lifeless.

Water runs in rivulets down the sides of his face, a mix of droplets falling from his hair and streaks of tears you couldn't really tell apart.

It made your chest hurt to see him like this as you carefully kneeled down next to him. How could you have not noticed earlier? You can only imagine how this whole situation must be eating up at him. You didn't know him as well as your other friends, but you've spent enough time with him to know just how much he looked up to the former symbol of peace.

His eyes never left yours as you both watched each other in silence. It seemed he couldn't even find it in himself to look angry at you for bothering him. He sounded so horribly fragile and on the verge of breaking down when he spoke, "What do you want, huh?" His voice cracked and he pulled tighter at his hair, "Shouldn't you be with Deku?"

A sudden cough racked through his body and that seemed to unleash another load of tears from his tired eyes. You watched him carefully and reached out to gently pry his hand from where it was twisted in his unruly hair.

It was rough with scars and trembled sorrowfully in your grasp and you squeezed it in what you hoped was a reassuring manner. He gasped out one last sob and met your eyes again.

"Oh Bakugou, it's ok to feel sad right now. I'm gonna be right here if you need me."

Bakugou stared at you, he looked terribly beautiful and miserable at the same time, and you swore that you would do anything too never see such an expression on his face ever again.

His lips trembled and you thought he was going to say something when a sudden tremble shook through his body, and he chocked out another sob. His head drooped towards you almost violently, and you dropped your umbrella. Pulling him towards you and holding him on your arms as he gripped at your smaller figure tightly. Like you would crumble to dust before him if he let go.

The rain seeped through your black funeral gown and chilled your skin, but you only clutched him tighter. You would hold him as long as he needs. Until he feels whole again, until you never had to see his pretty red eyes look so dead ever again.

Your heart ached for the broken hero in your arms under a crying sky.

"The volleyball team doesn't have parties." Your eyes narrow at your friend. "To be fair no one at this school really has parties but least of all the volleyball team...What kind of prank are you trying to pull?"

"I'm not. But since they lost the inter-high and they're not going to nationals..." he leans over his side of the library table and drops his voice, "...the guess monster convinced the other third years to host a...thing...I don't know, something! Before we all graduate."

You roll your eyes. "He has a name."

"I know," snips your friend. He watches your gaze drop back to your book, picking up notes where you left off. "Well?"

"Well what?" you ask without looking up.

"Do you want to go?"

With a snort you reply "no."

"Aren't you the least bit curious about them?" His voice curls salaciously. "They're the elite--"

"Everyone at this school is an elite," you remind him.

"Of the elite," he amends. "C'mon...I know you've got a huge crush on-"

You slam your pen down and glare at him. "Finish that sentence and it'll be the last thing you ever say."

He smirks under your full attention. "Promise to go?"

"No." You smile derisively. "I have literally no interest and I won't be manipulated into going."

He huffs and drops the topic as you get back to work.

"Last chance to come," he prompts, stopping by your room later.

"No thanks," you reply without looking up from the line of text. He huffs admonishingly but leaves without further argument.

It's pleasingly quiet in the dorms.

You're sure most of the other students have gone to the volleyball team's event and it just reinforces your decision not to go.

You're not here to make friends.

You're not here to find yourself or your place in the world.

No, Shiratorizawa serves only one purpose for you.

It is a stepping stone.

An escape.

You've worked hard to get into the most prestigious high school, achieving the best marks while you're here to give yourself the highest launching point to get as far away from here as possible.

And from the way the options sprawl out before you, you're almost free.

Finding yourself will come after you find a way out.

Tokyo, Paris, London, Seattle; the acceptances have poured in and you can taste the finish line.

The freedom.

You won't jeopardize that with meaningless distractions.

Pouring your heart and soul into every subject, you've been recognized by almost every teacher you've had. Almost every peer, too. From those who've spent their whole academic career trying to catch you, drag you down, cheer you on, or chew you up. Your name is renowned.

Your future is envied.

"I told you I'm not going," you say sternly to the knock on your door.

"How do you know that's why I'm here?"

You jump with a gasp, turning sharply in your seat toward the door and see Tendō Satori leaning against your doorframe all lean muscle and cool confidence.

You scrutinize his lazy smile with a tight gaze. "Why are you here, then?"

"I didn't see you at the party." He crosses his arms, eyes never leaving yours. "I was curious what you were doing instead."

"Well," you gesture across your desk, turning back to it, "now you know."

He lingers in the doorway, not asking for your attention but distracting you all the same.

You ask stiffly "is there something else you wanted?"

"You."

Snap; the tip of your pencil breaks off in shock.

You're too embarrassed to look at him so you just stare at your books hearing the smirk in his voice.

"I was hoping I would have an excuse to cross your path, an opportunity to be subtle at the party but I should have known better."

Your heart's beginning to thrum.

Yes, you're aware of the guess monster. The eccentric genius whose personality and character are even more alluring than his performance on the court. But attraction is distraction and the future is uncertain so for the past three years you've ignored any curiosity toward the appealing red-head.

The fact that he's here now...what he's implying... you're not sure you believe it.

When you don't say anything he prompts "do you understand? I threw the party for a chance to hangout with you."

The concept of it is too tough to understand, like a lump in your throat.

"I...I understand..." you admit.

Can he hear how hard your pulse beats in the quiet?

"And?"

"And what?" You fight every urge to look at him.

"How does that make you feel?"

After a moment of sluggish consideration you reply "I'm...flattered...Tendō, really. I am. But, I need to study."

He hums from the doorway, unsatisfied. "That didn't really answer my question."

"I don't know how to answer it, then." You stare at the pencil in your fingers as you twist it. "Or maybe I don't understand what you're trying to ask."

"I'm asking if you'd like to hangout with me."

Of course you would.

The answer is right there on the tip of your tongue but it feels like saying it would puncture some intangible bubble, destroying the path to your future.

"Let me ask a different way," he says slowly, gently. "Can I...hangout with you?"

Your eyes flick to him with a frown because it has to be obvious that you're in the middle of studying right now and not interested in just hanging out.

That's when you notice his backpack.

He smiles wryly.

"You mean..." The creases of your frown deepen. "You..."

He nods. "Can I study with you?"

"Why would you want to do that?" you ask, face screwing up as you gesture. "There's a party going on right now with your friends. A party you literally organized."

"Only to spend time with you," he amends holding up a finger and you gape in exasperation.

"I don't know, Tendō." Rubbing your forehead you grimace. "It's..."

He waits patiently, far longer than anyone else would and you realize what you have to say is just that important to him.

With a slow, steadying breath you meet his eye and confess. "I don't want to stay here...I've worked hard all this time to escape...And I'm... scared..."

"Of stumbling on a reason to stay?"

Something clicks into place within you. Like a puzzle piece perfectly fitting with another, you feel seen.

Understood.

You nod.

He looks hesitant now, eyes still gauging your reactions. "What if...that reason... wasn't going to stay either."

Your chest tingles with implication but you hold it at bay again, denying the suggestion. "What do you mean?" you ask nervously.

Tendō cautiously straightens up as if facing something head-on. "What if...when you escape...you weren't alone? What if a reason to stay...became..."

"A commonality to leave?"

Tendō's eyes shine and he smiles, mirroring the pining hope dawning inside of you, too.

There's a flash of images through your mind: saying goodbye to family and friends, boarding a plane, walking down a cobblestone street with the Eiffel tower twinkling in the distance.

Your heart skips a beat because you've imagined these things before but, for the first time, you imagine you aren't alone.

"So..." He asks, failing to hold back a wry smile. "Can I join you?"

holiday shopping

feat. Oikawa

note: part of my wintertime confessions event!!

“Uncle Tooru, we’re supposed to be shopping for my mom’s Christmas present.” Takeru whines.

“And we will! But please keep your voice down! Now do you see that person standing over there? By the scarves,” Oikawa keeps his voice low, making sure only his nephew could hear.

Keep reading

cw: fluff with minimal angst, reader and tsumu had an argument, msby4 is there, food mentions, probably bad writing like i just wrote this but i can't remember what i actually wrote which is a little alarming..., unedited and not proofread :,)

<bokuto3: hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: WHY DOES BOKKUN HAVE YOUR CONTACT AS '<y/n3'?????? OUTRAGEOUS.

<bokuto3: anyways hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: i miss u :( pls unblock me asap i'm sorry baby please i really am

<bokuto3: please don't be mad at me i thikn i'm lodsing my mind

<bokuto3: call me back. or text me back. unbloc k my email too thanx

<bokuto3: okay bye i luv u to the moon and back

<bokuto3: i'd do anything for u baby pls jyst talk to me again and i'd even swallow hot coals if you asked pls pls pls

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

you: give bokuto his phone back. get back to practice. bye.

<bokuto3: LOVE OF MY LIFE

<bokuto3: NO Y/N PLEASE I MISS YOU SO MUCH DON'T GO

you pocket your phone with a sigh, ignoring the way it continually buzzes with with messages and spam texts, probably just of atsumu professing his undying love for you and grovelling. pretty standard of him after an argument so intense that you had to walk out on before things escalated to places you would regret.

you can't deny that you miss him too, and it's been less than 24 hours since you saw him last.

in fact, you literally saw him this morning when sending him off to practice with a grumbled 'have a good practice' after he kissed over your forehead with a lightness rivalling a feather. a gentleness typically unseen from him.

really, the blond setter was just terrified of irritating you further.

then when you got up half an hour later, you're not pleased to see how atsumu was spamming you with messages, all conveying the messages he was scared of saying earlier. things like 'i love you', 'can't wait to go home to you', or 'did you see the photo of osamu's cat i sent'.

it's sweet, really; he is, but when you're still a little hurt from the harsh exchange you had last night, you didn't want him blowing up your phone this early in the morning.

so your only solution for a peaceful morning was to block him apparently.

something that clearly did not sit well with him because he then started spamming your socials and your emails with protests. did he not have practice to get to? where was all this time coming from?

you blocked him on those platforms too from the goodness of your heart because you had a feeling that he was skipping warmup in order to text you. if he pulled a muscle during practice, you don't want to begin imagining what a pain he'd be to look after.

glancing around the park you were currently strolling through to clear your mind, you only get a second to breathe when your phone starts buzzing again. this time, with a call notification from bokuto.

picking up, you immediately assume that it's atsumu who is bothering you after suffering the blows of how hard you've been ghosting him.

"atsumu for the love of-"

you're cut off of your own sentence when you hear somewhat muffled voices in the background.

"damn you messed up big time!" comes hinata's bubbly voice. you can indistinctly hear someone agreeing in the background- bokuto?

"stop rubbing it in!" atsumu exclaims, whining. you can picture him in your head right now, slouching against the wall as he deflates with each reminder of his mistake.

bokuto must have pocket-dialed you. you're about to hang up until you hear:

"how about you stop being miserable? your relationship with y/n will be fine as long as you apologise, this isn't the end of the world," lectures sakusa.

"for you maybe! ah already feel like y/n's slipping away from my grasp," cries your boyfriend. "and y/n is my world. so really, it does feel like the end of the world."

"you know what they say. love kills," mutters bokuto.

"literally no one has ever said that," sakusa deadpans.

"someone's probably said it."

"well if love does kill can it hurry up with atsumu?"

the dark-haired's simple statement makes you laugh, one that bursts suddenly before you have to cover your mouth from shame, hoping that it didn't disturb anyone.

"hey!" atsumu huffs before you can hear him groan dramatically again. except something's telling you that this isn't for show. "can't ya show a little sympathy to the guy who is having the worst time of his life? my partner doesn't even want to talk to me! i might as well rot right here and now."

"don't do that!" protests bokuto. "i'm sure y/n isn't as mad as you think. just talk to-"

"-what do you think i've been doing this whole time? i've been grovelling-"

"-no, you've been a bitch. i don't think telling y/n to 'text you back' counts as a proper apology."

the setter 'hmphs' and you can imagine the way he's crossing his arms. atsumu never did lose that immature side of him, but he tries, and you adore him for it. "is proclaiming my love not enough?"

"you can say 'i love you' to everyone, idiot, and you can confess your undying adoration for y/n any time. you do it on a regular basis anyways, atsumu, you don't need to double down on it just because you had an argument-"

"-but i'm scared that y/n will forget!"

the blond's outburst stuns everyone into silence. you hear a sniffle.

"what if i'm not worth the time? sometimes i get really scared that y/n might pack up and leave me because there's someone better out there. someone more patient and less of a hassle?"

it's so painfully silent, but each word that atsumu mutters is like a knife to your heart. how long has he felt this way?

hinata is the first to break the awkwardness. "c'mon man, you're literally high school sweethearts. i don't think you have anything to worry about."

"yeah, you're being silly right now, tsum-tsum!" bokuto agrees. "after all this time together, i think y/n has a reason to stay with you!"

"apart from my dashing good looks?"

"stupidity is temporary. get better soon," sakusa grumbles.

"omi-omi you're so mean!"

you hang up the call when you hear atsumu's chirpy tone again, unable to stop a smile from appearing on your own face. so long as he was happy, you were too.

that's what happens when you're soulmates, you suppose.

it's the same soulmate bond responsible for the fact that you were currently waiting outside the gym where msby practices were held, impatiently leaning against a small pole as you pass time on your phone.

then, just as you look up to check if anyone has left the building, your heart stops at the sight of a familiar faux-blond, animatedly chatting to one of his teammates. but when he meets your gaze, it takes him less than a fraction of a second to charge towards you.

instead of bracing for impact, you open your arms for him to tackle into, an offer he takes immediately.

as you both stumble backwards from the momentum, atsumu revels in your laughter and cherishes the feeling he gets knowing that everything is okay between you two. you chose to greet him after practice, you chose to go the somewhat inconvenient route all the way to his gym, you chose him and he hopes you never consider another option again.

and you won't. atsumu loves too hard and too well, warming you from the inside out to defrost any pain the coldness of life might leave you with. although he sometimes gets insecure about this overbearing trait of his, you get to show him each time just how beautiful it is; to wear your heart on your sleeve and love the world for what it is.

to love you for who you are.

"i'm sorry," he begins. "for what ah said last night, i was a real dick."

you smile. "well if you're really sorry, you'd let me take you out for some food, right?"

"only if it's your favourite."

"okay, sap. let's go then."

you think you hear atsumu whisper a 'thank you for letting me love you' before pulling him away.

Journals

I wanted to write my thoughts on how and why they'd keep a journal. I wanted to do most of them at once but I just finished Mammon's and it's 00:26am I really wanna sleep but I'm equally excited to share it so i'll link the rest of them later.

Lucifer

“Dear Lilith,”

His journal is handmade by a well-known bookbinder in the Devildom and he enchanted it so only he could open it as long as he is alive. He takes the time to write in it daily, in between two pieces of paperwork or at the end of the day. He prefers to be alone when he does because he gets emotional but if he is comfortable enough with you he’d appreciate it if you laid beside him and put your head on his lap while he strokes your head. He writes as if he was going to send a letter to his little sister; always starts with “Dear Lilith,” or “Beloved sister,” and never ends it, as in he doesn’t sign it or finish with a formula; it relieves him from the burden thought that he cannot send it to anyone, anywhere.

He dearly remembers meaningful events from his life; like the annoying’s exchange student arrival in the Devildom or his first kiss with that very same loved individual, so he only talks about the mundane in his entries. He talks about his brothers’ shenanigans and achievements throughout their immortal life. The afternoon Levi flooded the whole house by summoning Lotan and how Levi looked like a kicked puppy after realizing the mess he made out of the house. The way Mammon carefully enters his room and takes comfort in curling up next to his big brother when he has a nightmare, despite denying it all every morning when it happens. That’s where he externalizes his gentler side and soft spot for his brothers. He talks so fondly of them every night, no matter how disastrous or problematic they made his day; that’s maybe why he hasn’t cursed them in a timeless loop yet.

Mammon

”Dear Goldie,”

He occasionally writes in it, probably in a digital journal. He has a racing mind and despite being quite gifted in terms of hand skills, he isn’t a fast writer on the paper. Not only does he has a racing mind but since you came along, more often than not he finds himself with a racing heart in front of the screen. You can be assured he did talk about your first kiss, and if you squint you can find hints of his undying love for you long before you even developed feelings for him. He repertories every first times with you, and he is minutious about it. The way you smiled at him, hold him, and over all the way you make him feel even when you’re not around; he cherishes every memory he has of you. He types all his feelings out with shaky hands, every so often rolling over, and hiding his flushed face in a pillow.

He initially talks about his money schemes and wins and, more often than he’d ever admit it, he writes one paragraph or two about his brothers and the Purgatory boys. He mostly sounds like a sad teenage girl. That’s where he pours out everything he doesn’t show or say to them especially when they’re ruthless with him. It’s not all sorrow and worries in his journal. He notices the sweet treats made and gifted by little chubby hands in his room, and a clumsy note about how “devilish and inappropriate” it is to stay out the whole evening and night. He surely takes the time to write about the restful nap he took with Belphie and Luke under a tree after a family picnic. He will not fail to remember Asmo’s delighted expression when they managed to get the last pink-cherry-devil smoothie after driving all around the Devildom for hours.

* like a good neighbor ｡

- character(s): midoriya izuku x gn!reader. - word count: 1.1k+ - additional tag(s): pro hero deku, kind of a meet cute? - warning(s): very brief violence mention; deku breaks into your apartment.

A piercing scream drives a knife through Izuku’s slumber.

His body moves faster than his mind, jolting to life despite the sleepy stupor that clouds his brain. He nearly trips as he struggles to untangle his limbs from his bedsheets, already stumbling into his living room before the mental gears begin to turn, and he realizes he doesn’t even know where he is going.

Another shriek, this one longer and more desperate, answers his question, and Izuku feels a strike of terror when he realizes that the sound is coming from the adjacent wall.

It’s you.

The two of you haven’t even formally met, haven’t even laid eyes on each other, but he has noticed the way that the previously vacant unit next to his apartment has been thrumming with life for the past couple of days.

The whir of your blender in the morning, the liveliness of late night tv shows, the one-sided conversation of a phone call, all muffled signs from the other side of his wall that his space is a little less lonelier than before.  

He had intentions to introduce himself days ago, when he initially noticed the new welcome mat that had been laid in front of the apartment door. It is a pretty pastel with a greeting on it and, still adjusting the sleeves of his hero suit, he had briefly pondered what its owner looked like as he departed to his agency.

Now, standing in front of that same doormat under these circumstances, its cuteness seems almost foreboding.

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