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renenene · 4 months

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Author’s notes at the end :) first fanfic!! Yippee!!

I’m Sorry for You

4.2k words

The title is a song lyric from “ILYIS pt 2” by Mel Bryant & the Mercy Makers

Things I’d put if I ever posted to ao3 !!

Tags:

Many POC and LGBTQ+ headcanons among other things, quirk shenanigans, angst but not too bad ig, POV switching, Bakugo Katsuki swears a lot, Class 2-A, Sero speaks Spanish (yell at me if it’s wrong I’ll probably have my friend translating), Bakugo Katsuki likes to learn languages to fuck with Deku, Bakugo Katsuki natural talent frfr, PTSD for all, post war arc except I stopped watching after s5 and know everything mostly by fandom and friends ranting at me but I’m reading the manga currently, everybody lives/nobody dies, except AFO, we’re getting creative with the Bakugo nicknames, Bakugo in therapy, dekusquad are the real menaces, hero internships, the new class 1-A maybe, smoking weed/weed mentions, panic attacks, dissociation, let Deku stop being an innocent baby, let Deku be a teenager, let Katsuki be a dork, I believe in class 2-A having lives and real trauma responses ☝️

Characters:

Class 2-A, Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Mina Ashido, Eijiro Kirishima, Sero Hanta, Shouto Todoroki, Himiko Toga, Cammie, original OCs probably as background characters idk

Relationships:

Midoriya Izuku/Bakugo Katsuki, past Midoriya Izuku/Ochako Uraraka, background Mina Ashido/Cammie subplot, Ochako Uraraka/Himiko Toga subplot, minor Mirko/Shigaraki, minor Sero Hanta/Todoroki Shouto subplot, Platonic Ochako Uraraka/Katsuki Bakugo, minor Kyoka Jiro/Yaoyorozu Momo subplot

Blurb ig??

Katsuki Bakugo has cheated death nearly three times at this point. Sludge incident, Kamino incident, the goddamn war. He doesn’t gamble with his life or anything. Villains just seem to love him. If it were up to Katsuki, his life would never be played with.

That's gonna change real quick, though. You’d be crazy to think he’ll accept that after so much goddamn struggle in so little time, it’s Izuku’s ass that’s the only thing pumping his heart. Katsuki is cool with Izuku. He even trusts him. Still, if Katsuki can’t control anything, he needs to at least be able to control his own self.

Yeah, Katsuki’ll cheat death again. Fourth time’s the charm.

Chapter 1 ——————————————

4:48 AM, Friday / Katsuki Bakugo

The sun isn’t up yet, thank God. There’ll be no first year, dumbfuck extras to ogle me on my morning run. I can enjoy my quiet peace — even if the weather is getting a bit too cold for my liking.

Already, I’ve got a tracksuit on in seconds and I’m making record time. If I can get my hair down without problems, then I might be able to sneak some time at the gym. All that’s left is to fix my hair.

My drawer comes open with a roll. My hair clips are usually at the forefront. Usually. I put them at the front every night. I damn sure know where I put my shit.

…

Where the fuck are my clips?

8:21 AM / Izuku Midoriya

The days were long. The days were hard. And this day in particular was filled with— BOOM! There’s that same crackling noise everyone is all too familiar with by now. You’d think things would change after a year.

But no.

This is worse than usual.

Much, much worse.

Whoops and cheers arise, shouting “Go! Go! Catch ‘im!” A chopping hand makes its best attempt at distracting the instigating crowd, but only succeeds for half a second before the eyes are glued back onto the affair like a brand new fridge magnet.

“Encouraging violent behavior is not heroic cond— Bakugo-San!” Our beloved but prickly class president yelps as an almost impressively minute AP shot goes whizzing over his perfectly styled head. “No quirks in the classroom!”

“It ain’t a classroom until hygenically-challenged-Sensei gets here!” Kacchan sneers his usual sneer as he readies his hand to flick. “Until that infestation of a man wiggles his way in this room, this place is my battlefield. And just like the war— I ain’t losin’!”

“Badmouthing our sensei after he—“

“Take a joke, glasses,” Kaminari leans into the stickler’s side, purring. “Kacchan respects Aizawa-Sensei probably the most out of all of— FUCK!!”

“Language!”

Kacchan’s hand sizzles just the slightest bit from recoil from the shot that narrowly missed Kaminari’s ear. “That’s for making me sound all soft.”

“Kacchan, he was defending y—“

“You better pray there’s someone to defend your ass.” The blond swivels around with the quickness of a top-of-his-class war veteran, which he is, but no one would say to his face lest his head get somehow even bigger.

I gulp. This commotion has been going on all morning. Everyone knows Kacchan isn’t really going to hurt anyone but… he looks like he’s fighting urges.

Sero sits up ever so slowly. His eyes are bloodshot like he’s done a pretty amount of weed before classes, and he probably has. For God’s sake, it’s barely eight in the morning. UA is definitely a stressful place to be, but soon-to-be heroes shouldn’t be doing drugs.

Another small AP shot sounds, and I glow the slightest bit green to dodge it, landing star-shaped like a startled cat in the upper right corner of the back of the mangled classroom. The place looks like a tornado tore through it with the way the desks are all skewed. Some were moved so my classmates could watch the entertainment, chewing on snide comments and muffled giggles as toppings to Yaomomo’s popcorn. It’s like a tiny gladiator fight is going on, and the lion has eaten my sword.

A gladiator fight that Kacchan still won’t win. It’s only because he’s not able to go one hundred percent with this whack a mole stuff ‘cause he’ll mess up the room. However, fucking around is the only way he’ll ever find out how to land a hit on me.

“What did he even do?” Sero drawls, pointing his exasperation at a snarling Kacchan, palms popping with learned restraint. And oh, that restraint is going through a popping pop quiz of a test right now.

He has no clips in his hair. As of late, he had his hair clipped down over his eye like some 2000s emo, minus the scene extensions.

“I don’t have to tell a shitty extra jack shit,” he growls out, a menacing smile turning menacing scowl. It was an expected reaction, really. He always bristles when people get all in his business. And yet, class 2-A is nothing if not always in all his business, if you couldn’t tell by even the most outwardly innocent and responsible eyes being on the commotion as well.

Sero stalks closer with a yawn, a few paces behind him. He's not a step in front, still, out of habit I suppose. Kacchan has eased up a lot with the war. War seems to mature people, everyone here, really. But during his moments of irrational rage, his little aspects of tyranny bubble up like a bad reaction. The reaction he gives Sero, a fast side eye, seems like that sort of steaming an almost boiling pot of water will do before it erupts, leaking water into the ready and waiting flame beneath it.

“You don’t have to tell me ‘jack shit’, sure.” Sero shrugs, most likely unaware that his life is in jeopardy because of the weed in his system. An angry Kacchan is a prickly Kacchan. As much as Sero needs to diffuse the situation for his poor, poor beauty sleep before class, he also shouldn’t want to be put to rest for good. I personally want all my friends graduating without any tombstones for us to plant. “But,” Sero continues, drawling again just so Kacchan can at least focus his annoyance away from me and towards Sero, “we always figure out what dumbass—“

“Language,” Iida peeps out, a low volume I didn’t know his voice was capable of reaching.

“—what stupid thing you fight Midoriya for. Eventually, anyway. So just speed the process already.”

A slow hand turns to aim, palm up and popping, right at his temple.

“‘You tryna call me a dumbass?”

“Lang—“

From the corner of my eye, I catch a mesmerized Uraraka pat Iida for him to lean back. A calm, or at least calm looking Kacchan, is the worst Kacchan of them all.

Over the years there were grumpy Kacchan’s, raging Kacchan’s, stressed Kacchan’s, exhausted Kacchan’s, Kacchan’s in denial— when was he not?— and right now, a calm, almost crazed Kacchan. Of all the Kacchan’s our class seemed to learn how to wiggle our way into the graces of tolerance he had stowed beyond a seemingly less and less penetrable fortress as the days blended, calm Kacchan’s grace looked to lie in another plane of existence.

For, this is a Kacchan that smiled. Easy and small and uncanny. He may make many threats, but it’s been years since he’s looked so genuinely murderous.

“What I’m tryna do is keep you from getting detention for the third time this month. You’re on a weekly basis at this point.”

It’s almost a relief to see Kacchan stop smiling, but that threatening hand moves not one inch down.

“Who told you to care? Hah? Is your name glasses now? Or ponytail? Nah, you’re tape face. So stay in your lane and quit worryin’, jackass.” The two others in question bristle at their mention, but otherwise make no other reaction. Sero’s reaction, however, is to raise a brow.

“So they’re allowed to worry?”

“No, you— what!?— They’re not allowed to worry,” he grits out. “It’s what they do, and it’s what you don’t.”

This is when Mina pipes up, chief instigator of the onlookers. “Mido-Chan—“ she points frantically to the door— “is gone!”

Her impish grin almost grows past her cheeks at the same time that Kacchan’s explosions pop dangerously close to Sero’s face.

Luckily, that’s when Aizawa-Sensei literally rolls in and suddenly the desks are put together by the time he’s upright. Noticeably still in that horrendous banana yellow caterpillar sack, but upright nonetheless.

“Will someone tell me why Midoriya-San was full cowling down the hall?” He drones, already too done to even fathom the possible answers.

A hand shoots up, and it’s no surprise that it’s Iida’s.

“Bakugo-San and Midoriya were having a bit of a scuffle—“

“Again?” He interrupts, just annoyed at the common occurrence at this point.

“Yes, sensei.”

“That’s the third time this month.” Kacchan sucks his teeth at the remark. “Earphone Jack, Creati.” The bloodshot, dried eyes of the insomniac glance between the two in question. “You both work well together. Find the problem child before the bell rings. If you can do that, I’ll give an extra 5 credits to your participation grade for today. However, lost time won’t be made up. Rendezvous with your friends. Heroes don’t have time to ‘make up’ their missions.”

Yaomomo is the first to raise her hand, face scrunched in objection. “Sensei—“

“Unfortunately for whatever you have to say, heroes are not able to decline calls to action if they’re able, either. Imagine a mother’s child dying because you dawdled.”

Him and finding the oddest times to give some strangely amazing advice. He’s not wrong, but he’s definitely twisting the system so he doesn’t have to go searching himself. The man is on a prosthetic leg though.

It’s not until thirty minutes later the three of us return, heaving a stick, leaf, and splinter ladled me by my shoulders.

“S-sorry, sensei.” I bow my head, nervously smiling. By the quiver of my lip, any other person might’ve thought I was about to laugh. But this is class 2-A. They know I’m on the verge of tears with anxiety.

Aizawa-Sensei does nothing but pinch his nose bridge and groan. “Just sit.”

And this class begins, Bakugo sending the occasional calculated glance at Midoriya.

12:13 PM / Katsuki Bakugo

“Dude! You freaked! I mean— more than usual! Like— this was going crazy! It was entertaining as hell—“

“You almost got your ear exploded off,” Sero interrupts the honey haired boy with a small snicker.

“You did too! And well, yeah, that wasn’t entertaining.” He deflates at the memory but perks right up when he gets back to storytelling. Y’know, as if they were not literally there.

Kaminari blabbers on and on, throwing in the odd joke or two about how Izuku slipped away like the fucking Pink Panther with the way he tip toed. Like I was one of those red light laser systems, poised to go off at any moment if you only breathed in the wrong way.

Of course I fucking would. That asshole knows what he’s got comin’, going through my shit. He shouldn’t be so damn surprised I was ready to leave him in tatters. I would disintegrate him with my eyes if I could. The ones that were currently downcast and staring into nothing.

Kirishima leans forward a little from his side of the lunch table, across from me, to tap the space in my view. It’s one quick tap. He knows it’ll get my attention ‘cause I hate it when people do it. It’s as if they’re treating me like a dog, tapping in front of me. Makes me wanna bite their finger off and show them a real bitch. Still, the tap is light enough that the others continue to be too deep in gossip land to notice whatever we’re about to say.

“You good?”

My airhead expression falls right back into a scowl.

“I’m as good as someone with detention can be.” I’d punch his highlighter head if I didn’t like him so much. Tolerated him more than others, at least.

“How long’s it this time?”

“An hour after school. ‘Said I gotta watch Eri ‘cause he knows I hate it.”

“What else?”

I narrow my eyes, leaning closer to Kirishima. “What’s it to you?” The fucker doesn’t pry, thank God. Why’s he doing it now?

“I’m worried.” He shrugs as if it’s normal. “You keep getting in detention.”

My narrowed eyes go to slits by the time I'm finished blinking. “Yeah, well, it’s my business if I do. Not any of yours.”

He only folds his arms and leans back, scoffing. “It’s plenty my business, dear ol’ Kats—“

“Quit calling me that, Jaws,” I grit out. He knows I hate that dumbass nickname. For one—it’s way too cutesy for my liking. ‘Kats’. I don’t have fucking paws. I am not a cat. And if I were, I’d scratch your face and vomit on you before you can say “Kah”.

Nonetheless, he continues. “You’re my friend. I don’t surround myself with people who aren’t manly, and people who aren’t manly go to detention.”

“‘You callin’ me a loser?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“People who aren’t manly are losers to you, stoplight. I ask again: ‘You callin’ me a loser?”

“The point is stop going to detention.” I roll my eyes. Okay, so he’s calling me a loser. Maybe going to detention isn’t very cool.

“And I don’t mean skipping, just in case you get ideas— even though I know you wouldn’t,” he says, for no reason, might I add. I wouldn’t skip classes unless there was a literal life threatening situation.

“Now, here’s your cookie.” He stuffs a spicy, sweet wafer in my mouth, watching with content as I shift from getting ready to blow his head off to being pacified by the combo of flavors.

Todoroki whisks by at that convenient moment, holding a book open. He looks so similar to Izuku, furiously taking notes once he sees even the slightest noteworthy thing. He’s even got his tongue stuck out to the side as Izuku usually does. Speaking of, what the hell noteworthy thing am I doing right now? “That cookie looks good.” And there goes my answer.

“The recipe’s homemade!” Kirishima chimes.

“Ooh, Kiri, can I have one?” Sero’s practically eating one with his eyes. “Just one nibble or something?”

Mina’s next in line to whine. “Yeah, c’mon, don’t hog!”

“Okay, okay!”

The mention of food has officially brought the other oafs into our conversation. He passes a cookie around to everyone, halting at Kaminari, who seriously cannot take spicy shit at all.

“Why can’t you ever make something normal?”

I lick the crumbs off my fingers, noticing Kirishima grin hard enough for his big cheeks to hurt. Yeah, the cookies are good. Whatever.

“Why can’t you grow some balls, dunceface?”

The others snicker, all except Todoroki.

“But doesn’t Kaminari already have—“

“Nevermind!” Mina pipes up before he can ruin a good joke.

I snag another wafer-cookie whatever the fuck and look up at Mr. Pill. “What’re you doing here anyway?”

“I’m taking notes on that cookie. You mentioned there was a recipe, Kirishima.”

He nods.

Todoroki blinks once. Twice. “Can I have it?”

“You bake!?” Sero bursts, lips pulled in a wide smile. He’s too enamored to realize he’d completely overshadowed Ei and the fact that he was supposed to answer.

“I didn’t know Todo-Chan baked!” Pinky’s hands smack on the table to prop herself up in all her excitement. “You and Sato-Chan should totally bake together sometime. It’d be a flavor party!”

“I thought you’d like bland stuff.” Kaminari is surprisingly less energy filled than the others, instead just curious.

“Baking’s super manly, man!” Kirishima shouts.

Todoroki just shrugs at all their enthusiasm.

“My friends like sweets, so I learned.”

“Well, this ain’t sweet.” I take a large chomp from another cookie. “‘S spishee,” I growl through the mush in my mouth.

“My friends like spice as well.”

That makes all of us raise our brows. Todoroki’s friends like spice? As in— Iida, who’s a stickler for just a chip as opposed to something with “nutritional value”? Midoriya who’s eyes water after “too much” ketchup? Uraraka who… to be honest, she can handle her spice, but can’t take a taki. She’s probably at “spicy” Doritos level.

Sero hooks an arm around Todoroki’s shoulders and grins, small and sly. “Ah, I get it. We’re your friends.” The oh’s on Mina and Kaminari’s face are almost immediate.

“I never said I was peppermint’s friend.” I grumble. The dumbasses continue with their cooing and I continue emptying Kirishima’s container.

“You wanna make cookies for us, Todo?” Mina purrs, cozying up to the boy’s other side. Her eyes bat all coaxing-like.

“No,” he glances down at her, and it takes her a second to realize he’s not being smart with her. Just being as socially inept as he usually is. “You guys are my friends, but they’re not for you.”

“Oh.” Sero and Mina glance between each other, but Kirishima’s the first to ask the big question.

“Who’re you makin’ ‘em for?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t tell?” Dunceface and Elbows ask in unison.

“I can’t tell.”

“Sometimes I just wanna mangle your stupid, inexpressive mug— the shitheads wanna know why, you dumbass,” I grumble.

The dumbass in question blinks, and nods. “I can’t tell.” We all collectively groan. “I can’t.” And the boy shrugs.

“You can’t tell us why you want a spicy cookie recipe and you can’t tell us why you can’t tell us you…” Kaminari freezes, brows pinched. “What was I saying again, Kiri? I-I was definitely saying something— I know it made sense.”

“Mhm.” The redhead snickers at his best friend—but I’m really the best friend ‘cause I’m the best in everything—and replies in kind. “He can’t tell us why he wants the cookie recipe, or why he can’t tell us why he can’t tell us he needs the recipe.”

Kaminari’s eyes are wide as he hugs his own sides, so Sero offers him a pat on the back as consolation. I guess I'd pat him too, if I only I hadn’t turned my hearing aids down. Yeah, hearing aids. Setting off explosions only a few feet from your ears since the age of four does that to you.

“You’re correct, Kirishima. Now, the recipe? Please.”

He nods with the widest smile. “I can text it to you before the day ends. Probably before training with All Might.”

“Anytime before Saturday is a good time.”

Saturday? I perk up. I’m allowed to be fucking nosy. “What’s happenin’ Saturday?”

“Uh…” Uh? Since when was Todoroki capable of saying uh? “I wanna buy the products as soon as possible. For my friend.”

I freeze, eyes narrowing at my Tupperware. It was then that we’d all had the same thought, but Mina was the first to voice it. “Frien—“ Sero’s tape shoots to cover her mouth at a practiced speed. “Mm!! Mm, hm!?” She squeals, and he shakes his head with an eerily serious grimace.

“If you’ll text me the recipe, then I don’t have a reason to be here anymore.” Todoroki bows at a right angle. “Please excuse my interr—“ is that a blush on his goddamn ears?

Kirishima’s the one who covers Kaminari’s mouth when he almost makes the mistake of commenting on it.

Half n’ half stalks away, cradling that book of secrets. Just when he’s out of earshot— “America has a problem.” I lean in, narrowing my eyes at each of my tolerable twits.

Mina, Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari are sat back down and huddled in, already ready to conspire.

“No shit he does. Look at the way he walked off. Like that book was treasure!” Sero whisper-shouts, throwing his hands around.

“I didn’t even know Todo-Chan was capable of blushing!”

Kirishima shushes Mina for being a bit too loud, then ducks right back into our little circle. “Bakugo and Sero are right though. He was totally suspicious. I mean, yeah, we’re all Uber closer now after the…”

“You know,” Kaminari murmurs.

“Yeah, that.” Kirishima takes a shuddering breath at the memories. Bloody and grave. “Anywho, yeah, we’re close. But no one just walks up with a notebook for a reason as small as spicy cookies. I didn’t even tell anybody I made them.” He folds his arms and scoffs. “It’s like the guy knew or something. He couldn’t have had a notebook ready that damn fast.”

“He couldn’t have. But a freckled fuck I know keeps at least one paper and pen on deck at all times.” I pointedly glance behind myself, and their eyes follow that glance. The… “dekusquad”—God, do I hate that that’s what we’re calling them now—don’t look suspicious though. “Shitty de—zuku is in on it,” I interrupt myself midway through the nickname Izuku has told me multiple times he doesn’t mind.

“And did you see the way he seemed almost more interested when you said they were spicy? Who here even likes spicy cookies over regular cookies!?” Kaminari sounds like he’s straining to keep his voice under a hearing level.

Of course that’s the part Kaminari zeroes in on. It is a detail to point out, but not that big. Sero shrugs.

“They were good, but not better than a regular cookie, Ei. No offense.” Mina smiles up at him.

“Whatever, I made them only to satisfy Kats’ hell-hot buds anyway.”

“Which they are.” He blinks a few times, eyes ripped to my deadpan. “Satisfied.”

“Thanks?”

“Ain’t nothing’ to thank. They were good.”

“Kats—“

“Simple as that.”

RING!!

“Shit, the bell!” Kaminari’s packing his unfinished lunch at lightning speed.

“I’ll feel so bad if I have to see that hollow shell of a man looking any more depressing if we’re late to his training,” Sero grumbles as he grabs his belongings with his tape.

“Well don’t remind me!” Mina wails.

Kirishima’s laughing under his breath as he pulls his bag on. “I don’t think All Might will get depressed if you guys are a little late. It’s not manly, yeah, but it’s not world ending.”

The others can scramble to class all they want. I’ve got a plan for the green team. They wanna send spies on me? Jokes on them, I’ve been watched all my goddamn life.

“Whatchu want?” Kirishima squints at me, only teasing. I fold my arms and lean my hip into the edge of the table.

“Shut up and I’ll tell you. You, me, after school.”

“Session?”

What the hell? “No— Fuck, no. Not fuckin’ weed, Ei.”

He only shrugs. “It could’ve been weed. It sounded like weed. It should’ve been weed.”

Why the hell would I want weed?

“No. No, it shouldn’t have. Nevermind—I mean, we need to talk. I got somethin’, and I need ya’ to go along with it.”

“‘You have a plan?”

“Yeah.”

The asshole looks at me. Scrutinizing as if it’s impossible for the top of our fucking class to come up with a plan so fast. I can imagine everywhere he’s looking. The knick in my brow from the war, the worry line just barely coming to shape on my forehead. Basically, every part of me that’s only formed ‘cause of that damn war. I’d rather drop dead than let him think I’m weak.

“Why were you chasing Midoriya—“

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Kats—“

“I told you to knock that—“

“Why not? To the name and… this morning. I thought it was just ‘cause Mina and the others were around that you wouldn’t tell.”

He knows he’s prying, and yet he’s testing me anyway. Regardless of Mina’s big gossipy mouth, I wouldn’t tell a soul. It’s not their business.

“I told you I’m not talking about it, and the extras weren’t the reason why. Plus, that name is fucking ugly by the way.”

“We made it for you though.” He grins.

“‘Don’t mean it don’t suck.” I nudge my head towards the exit, where the bulk of our year is off to. “C’mon, before my perfect no lateness record blows up.”

Kirishima kicks into a jog but raises his brow at me anyway. “But we’re still not done talking. You still haven’t told me—“

“Okay, Johnny Bravo, if I gotta tell you—“

“Who the fuck is Johnny Bravo?”

“—that one buff guy? Y’know, that one show about the guy who’s all macho and has gigantic man tits— nevermind, stop interrupting!” I can feel sparks starting in my palms and he’s not making it any better. “As I was saying, I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’! It’s me and shitnerd’s business. Not yours, not Soyface’s, and not anybody else’s. Got it?”

He mimics catching a ball, dropping it ever so slowly on the floor, and pouting up at me. I swear I’ll kill him one day.

“One day they’ll be sending your ass back to Fatgum. ‘Cause I’ll beat you so bad your quirk will be unusable.”

“Kats, your plays on words are getting too many steps—“

“‘Wasn’t even a play on words, but I’ll give you a more pea-brained threat: I’ll eat you.”

“Hell yeah! Love who you love. I mean, don’t love me though.”

I sigh. My friends are so… stupid.

Most of our class is already huddled around the symbol of peace by the time we arrive. All Might still insists on showing up in his buff form until he starts choking blood, even though no one needs or wants him to. Though, it’s not like anyone wants to crush his spirit by saying anything about it.

“I am here, my students!” the man bellows, as if we don’t have eyes.

Kaminari hails him, before Iida jabs his sharp as hell elbow in the blond's side.

Our training begins.

——————————————————

A/N TIME !!!

Hope anyone who read this enjoyed :) This A/N is long ash tho, can y’all tell I’m a yapper

Anywho, finally posting the fanfic I’ve been working on 😭 literally only 2 chapters and the beginning of a 3rd in because I have such a bad habit of forgetting things I started, remembering, forgetting, not liking, and repeating the cycle. I got really inspired reading The Way You Used to Do planning this out though. Read it last year and my friends haven’t heard silence since.

If I don’t think this is ass by the time I finish I might post to ao3 as well (probably in like 10 yrs LOL idk how fanfic writers can consistently write chapters and finish with 200k words in like 4 months) this is basically my form of beta-ing when my bsf isn’t available lol

Also, I’ve kinda just been writing in a google doc without a title because it was originally an “x reader” but then the plot I planned got too interesting 🤷🏾‍♀️ I think “I’m Sorry for You” fits the narrative I’ve built though. If anyone wants to know why, id be happy to explain ^^ Anywho, I always think those existential “the stars r ur eyes” or whatever titles were so pretty and I wanted to have something like that but my brain always blanks out when I have to think of a title. Womp womp.

If anyone is interested, I also have a doc for planning, with character headcanons and analyses. I have a visceral hatred for OOC works and while most will say that it is so, they can just be so far from source material that I’ll die reading it. In addition, I made a little playlist to help me brainstorm plot and think about bakudeku dynamics.

#bakudeku #mha #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #izuku midoriya #my hero academia #bnha bakugou #fanfic #new fanfic #mha bkdk #bkdk #bnha bkdk #bkdk fanfic

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