#and kyoka would still have lingering feelings for momo

[crqelsummer]

thought! bc in the our hero academia au, momo ends up never marrying but does have three lovely kids through adoption.

but this only happened bc years ago i preferred denki and kyoka together more than her with momo.

do i turn them into a poly ship.

[softweebqueen]

It’s 3AM (Part Two)

~ I’m honestly really surprised with how decent the first part did so thank you! <3 I appreciate the love. Anyways, this time around I wanted to introduce a small “love triangle” because I’m cliche. Oh well. Also, these are never as long as I would actually like them to be so I apologize. Feel free to leave suggestions or comments. I also will try to do any requests if I receive them. One last note, I’m still warming up to my writing style so it’ll continuously be changing ~

~ Part One ~ Part Three ~

It had been a month since Bakugou left you in the common area, the feeling of his lips still lingering long after he’d disappeared. At first, you weren’t sure if it was just some sick nightmare you had but the more often you would notice Bakugou staring at you, confirmed that it was real. Things were different for a short period. You began to sit with your classmates across from Bakugou at lunch. You would actually participate in some of their silly activities. The more time passed though, the more things went back to a kind of normal state. Bakugou went back to pissing you off, yelling at you, and avoiding you when possible. However, you continued to open up to your classmates, spending every lunch with Midoriya, Iida, Uraraka, and Todoroki. 

It seemed the more that the angry blondie pushed your buttons, the closer you got to Todoroki. You and he began spending most of your free time together, doing just about anything. You didn’t have to be doing something together. You both enjoyed each other's company even when your nose is in a book and he is studying. The class noticed that the closer you two got, the more open you guys became. 

You and Todoroki had just finished watching some corny horror movie which appeared to be more like a comedy movie. Neither of you moved as the credits started though. Your bodies stayed close together, his arms wrapped around your waist. He probably would have stayed with you like that all night if it wasn’t so late and you had to be up in the morning. Your lips formed a small pout as you watched him get up before you finally pulled yourself to get up. 

“Here. Take your sweatshirt back.” You mumbled but you couldn’t get it off because he had stopped you. He had let you borrowed it earlier when you two were walking back to the dorms from having dinner with Midoriya and Uraraka. You were kind of glad that he was stopping you. 

“You keep it for now. You can return it later after it doesn’t smell like me anymore.” He soft voice had a hint of teasing in it, making your stomach tied in knots. Your face was overcome with a light shade of pink. It was embarrassing that he knew that you liked the scent of his jacket, but you couldn’t help it. He smelled like pine needles and cinnamon all at the same time. 

“Well... Okay... Thank you.” Your voice was quiet as you look down at the floor, trying your best to hide your flustered face. “Goodnight, Todoroki.” Your arms wrapped around him tightly trying your best to prolong this simple goodbye. 

“I told you already, call me Shoto.” He chuckled and hugged you, resting his chin on your head. “Goodnight, ______.” The second he left the room you almost immediately missed him. You fell back onto your bed with a happy sigh, staring at the ceiling. You loved spending time with him. He made you laugh and step out of your comfort zone but even though you two still spent a lot of time together, he still only called you his friend. 

Your happy mood was interrupted by the thought of Bakugou kissing you, creeping into your mind. It made you exasperated that he could kiss you then go back to being an asshole to you. You had run every scenario through your head that you could think of. Did he do it to piss you off, to shut you up, or to get back at you somehow? Did he like you? Why did he do it? Has he told anyone? You sure hadn’t. You weren’t ever going to tell anyone that your first kiss was stolen by a prick like him. 

All of this thinking made you hungry so you slowly got up from your spot. You just run downstairs and get a quick snack. It was only midnight so if you went now, then you would still have enough time to get a decent amount of sleep before you had to get up to help Iida. You were met with a familiar face as the elevator door opened but at this point, you were too tired to take the stairs. You stepped in without uttering a single word, turning your back to him. You couldn’t quite piece together why he was going to the common area at this time nor why you two kept meeting at such odd hours in the night. It felt as if time stopped or at least slowed down as you waited for the elevator to reach the main floor trying your best to ignore the hothead behind you. The nagging silence was beginning to really piss you off. 

“I hate you.” You blurted out, unable to stand the ringing in your ears that came from the silence. You couldn’t see Bakugou’s response but you knew damn well that it made him upset just from the rising tension in the air. It was thick enough for you to slice through it with a knife. 

“Oh, sweetie, you’re breaking my heart.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, emphasizing ‘sweetie’. Bakugou didn’t know it but you truly did hurt him when those words stabbed his heart like knives. However, he was oblivious to his feelings. He just thought that the ache in his chest was because of how angry he made you. Why your presence made him angry, he couldn’t figure out. Anytime he saw you, warmth filled his chest. It was such a strange feeling and he tried his best to avoid it. What he didn’t realize was that this feeling was not one of hatred but rather the feeling of falling for someone. 

 You let out a small sigh of relief as the elevator door opened, revealing the common room. “You don’t have a heart.” You muttered as you stepped out, almost running into Kirishima who was waiting for Bakugou in front of the elevator. You were curious about what they were up to but you couldn’t bother to stick around to find out. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You hadn’t seen Bakugou or Shoto since last night but you also were with Iida all day at a small venue. The venue was allowing your class to throw a small party to let off some steam because one of your classmates knew the owner. Iida had told you all about it but your mind had been elsewhere. You two were in charge of decorating and setting everything up, however; you were being pretty useless. Iida finally put you on music duty while he finished with the decorations. By the time you two were done, you barely would have enough time to get back and get ready.

“Hey, _____. We should probably get going.” Iida waved a hand in front of your face, pulling you out of your thought trance. You nodded and followed him out. The entire time back to the dorms, he tried to have a conversation but you were so out of it. You didn’t even notice that you two had gotten all the way back to the dorms until Momo and Mina were shooting questions at you. 

“What are you going to wear?” 

“Are you going to dance with anyone?” 

“How are you doing your hair?” 

“Are you putting on makeup?” 

You quickly became overwhelmed, trying to take in everything they were saying. “Slow down,” You pleaded, “I don’t know. I haven’t done anything like this before. I don’t even think I own something to wear to a party.” You frowned slightly, just now realizing that you weren’t at all used to anything like this. This sparked something in the two girls and before you knew it, all of the girls, besides Tsuyu, were packed in your room. Mina was digging through your dresser and closet. Momo was attacking your face with makeup brushes. Ochako and Kyoka were helping Mina in deciding if anything you owned would work. As crazy as it was in your room, you didn’t really mind. You had never had a group of girlfriends so this fun for you.

“You are absolutely hopeless!” Mina sighed and shrank to the floor. She had pulled out all of your clothes and found nothing. 

“Well, I have a pair of skinny jeans that would look great on you, ____.” Ochako chimed in, “They should fit. I’ll go get them.”

“Come to think of it, I have a crop top that you could totally pull off.” Kyoka grinned, leaving the room with Ochako. You were left alone with Momo, who was almost done with your makeup, and Mina, who was looking at you with a smirk. 

“Soooo, tell us about Todoroki and you.” She giggled. “You two sure have been spending a lot of time together. And Midoriya said that Todoroki wouldn’t stop looking at you while you guys were at dinner.” You could feel your face heat up as it turned a crimson red. You weren’t honestly sure what was going on between the two of you but hearing his name made butterflies form in your stomach. 

“Aww!” Momo cooed. “Are you two dating? Tell us all about it. What is he like as a boyfriend?” She moved her hands away from your face to get a better look at you. A small laugh escaped her lips when she noticed how flustered you were. 

“No. I-It’s not like that.” You shook your head. “We’re just friends. We just... Well, we just like spending time with each other. It’s nothing more than a simple friendship.” You looked down at your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be more than friends with Shoto or if you were just using him as a way to get Bakugou out of your head.

“Well do you want to be more than friends?” Momo asked, seemingly reading your mind. You didn’t know how to answer so you stayed silent. 

“Or do you like Bakugou?” When Mina mentioned his name your head snapped up, your eyes meeting her. “I heard you two kissed not too long ago.” You had no idea how she knew. You didn’t tell anyone and no one was in the common area that night. That only left one possibility, Bakugou. You couldn’t believe that he would tell anyone especially since he's been ignoring you. You opened your mouth to answer but the two girls who left burst back into your room. You were thankful for them because once they gave you the outfit, you were left alone in your room. 

You told the girls to leave without you so you had some alone time to think. Your heeled boots clicked against the hard floor as you walked through the common area. You thought you were the last one to leave but you were so caught up in trying to focus on not falling that you didn’t notice the person sitting on the couches as you left. The entire walk, you couldn’t help but wonder if you would run into Bakugou there. You knew for sure that Shoto was going to be there. He had sent you a message, telling you that he was waiting at the front doors for you. If you did happen to run into Bakugou, you weren’t sure what you would do. You wanted to talk to him but you knew that he would only yell at you or try to piss you off. There was also a part of you that just wanted to punch him in the face. 

The moment your eyes met Shoto’s, you forgot all about Bakugou. He was waiting outside for you. A smile formed on his lips when he noticed you but he couldn’t help his staring. His gaze moving up and down your body. You rarely wore clothes that showed off your figure which is why what you were wearing shocked him. He noticed the way the pants were hugging your body and the way the crop top you wore swayed as you walked, showing the littlest bit of skin.

Shoto cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed for staring so long. “You look good.” He held his hand out to you, “ Come on. Let’s go inside.” You happily took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. You weren’t sure what your relationship with him was but it didn’t matter to you right now. Your heart was filled with joy as you guys walked inside, hand in hand. Your eyes searched the room, realizing that the two of you were receiving a few glances from the others but you were looking for a specific person. He was nowhere to be found though. 

You followed, Shoto while he dragged you around to say hello to everyone who wasn’t already dancing. The girls all giving you thumbs up behind his back. Mina went as far as making a kissy face. To avoid the embarrassment the other girls were causing you, you pulled Shoto onto the dance floor ignoring his protests. He didn’t actually mind though. He enjoyed seeing you get involved in the activities. Luckily for the both of you, the song that began playing was slow. Shoto rested his hands on your hips, pulling you close. You wrapped your arms around his neck. For a while, you two stayed like that, swaying to the music even though different and faster songs played. 

“This is fun and all but I don’t think we’re moving to the actual beat of the song.” You teased as you pulled away just enough to look up at him. You didn’t want anything to change though, it was just fun to tease him. 

“I know.” He hummed, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “It was just nice to have you so close that I didn’t want to move.” His body moved away from yours but he grabbed your hand. You squealed as he unexpectedly spun you around. He continued to twirl you around while you laughed. 

“Okay. Okay. Stop. I’ll get sick.” You giggled, shaking your head. Shoto chuckled, loving how happy you seemed to be. The rest of the night you two spent switching between slow dancing and awkwardly dancing to the songs you couldn’t slow dance to. You almost didn’t want this night to end but the small yawn that snuck past your lips said otherwise. 

“Are you ready to go home?” Shoto whispered in your ear as you two swayed side to side. You were too tired to actually form words so you just nodded your head. Within in seconds, you two were saying your goodbyes. 

“Awe, don’t go yet!” Mina pouted using her puppy dog eyes to try to convince you. 

“Yeah, Stay just a little bit longer!” Kaminari chimed in. 

You shook your head and gave them an apologetic smile. “Sorry but I’m really tired. I had a lot of fun though.” You waved to the group as you walked out with Shoto. The cold air of the night hitting your skin made a shiver run up your spine. It was cold for long though because once Shoto realized you were cold, he draped his jacket over your shoulder. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to the left side of his body. A small content sigh came from your lips as you laid your head on his shoulder. You didn’t mind the silence as you walked. In fact, it was comfortable but there was a question that you were dying to ask.

“What am I to you?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You were scared to ask but you had to know. 

“What do you mean?” He questioned, his attention not faltering from the pathway. You were in disbelief that he didn’t know what you were asking. You wanted to know but you didn’t have the energy in you to explain. 

“Never mind.” You exhaled. The rest of the walk was silent. You were a little upset that you didn’t get an answer to your question. The thoughts that filled your head only confusing you more. As soon as you walked through the doors of the dorms, you were pulled away from your pondering by Shoto. His hand grabbing yours before you could get too far away. 

“Thank you, ______. That was the most fun I’ve had in a very long time.” He spoke quietly. It took you a second to realize that he was slowly leaning down towards you. Wanting to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss you, you found yourself standing on your toes to get closer to him. His delicate, slender hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. You were in a state of complete bliss but the kiss was soon broken. It didn’t last quite long enough. Your lips still tingled as he pulled away, leaving you wanting more. 

“Go to bed, love.” His voice was gentle and soothing. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before sending you to your room. Your body swaying as you walked you to your room, dazed. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 Bakugou sat on the couch watching as his classmates left at different times and in different sized groups. “You sure you don’t want to come?” Kirishima’s asked as he walked through the common area with the girls. Bakugou only scoffed and turned his head away in response. He didn’t understand why any of his classmates would want to spend the entire night together in some stuffy building. 

His attention was captured by the sound of heels on the hard floors. He thought everyone had already left but here you were. He looked up from his phone unable to stop himself from staring at you. He couldn’t help it. It had become second nature for him to watch you when you were around. It drove him crazy especially now considering how good you looked. After he watched you walked out the door, he convinced himself to go to the stupid party just so he could talk to you. 

His walk was filled with thoughts of you. No matter how hard he tried, you wouldn’t get out of his head. He didn’t know what he wanted. He felt like he wanted to kiss you but he also felt like he wanted to beat the shit out of you. He didn’t know how he felt about you but he sure as hell knew that a fire sparked inside of him when he saw you walk into the venue holding hands with Todoroki. Furious, he stormed inside set on confronting the two of you but he was stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Hey! I didn’t think you would come! I’m so grateful that you did. I hope you’ll enjoy yourself.” Iida continued to speak but his voice fell short of Bakugou’s ears. He searched the room, trying to find out where you went. The sight that his eyes fell upon only fueled the fire that was burning inside of him. His knuckles turning white as his hands formed tight fists. 

A hand rested on his shoulder, keeping him from causing a scene. “Don’t you dare ruin this night for her. She would never forgive you.” Kirishima was standing next to him, watching you and Todoroki dance. Part of Bakugou knew that he was right so he stayed for a while just to watch to make sure half and half didn’t try anything stupid. It didn’t take him long to reach his limit. The way you looked with your eyes closed and a small smile on your lips while your head leaned against Todoroki’s chest caused Bakugou pain. He managed to leave without causing a scene. This didn’t work out in his favor. By the time he got back and slouched on the couch to sulk, you just so happened to walk in with Todoroki. The scene that unfolded in front of his eyes made him sick but he was thankful that the lights were out making it easier for him to go unnoticed. 

“You’re a creep,” Todoroki commented after you had left the room. 

Bakugou looked towards him and growled. “You don’t deserve her.” Even though his voice was threatening it made the other boy chuckle. 

“Take a bath. You reek of jealousy.” 

“You damn bastard,” Bakugou yelled after Todoroki, watching him leave. He wanted to fight his classmate but he couldn’t bring himself to it. The image of you kissing that idiot was burned into his skull and it was really pissing you off. Somehow he had to get you away from that bastard but he wasn’t sure how he was going to convince you to stop hanging out with Todoroki. 

[mattzerella-sticks]

Little Secrets Everywhere (a fun little BNHA one-shot, minor Kiribaku)

Mina thought letting Bakugo read whatever was in her folder wouldn't be too bad. Maybe he would snipe at her for her less than perfect English translation and sentence structure, slap her on the head with the balled up assignment. What she wasn't expecting was for him to charge with hellish fury towards her in the common room with all their friends to see.

One careless mistake leads to many things coming to light. Everyone walking away with something new to think about.

           “What’s your problem then?”

           “You wrote about my boyfriend fucking every other guy in the school ‘cept me!”

                                       --------------------------------------

           Mina scrolls through her phone, idly listening while Hanta and Denki trade jabs while playing their game. Hits and explosions backtrack their arguing, along with the occasional comment from Eijiro. The red-haired boy much more involved in who wins than Mina. More than anyone else in the common room, which seems to their entire class – save one.

           He joins a few seconds later, storming over to where Mina sits on the couch. She hears the crackles of his explosions before seeing him, looking up when his shadow looms overview. “Hey,” she says, “what do you think you’re doing, Bomb Boy?”

           “What the fuck is this?” He shakes the crushed papers in his fist, Mina surprised Katsuki hadn’t incinerated them in his anger. Seconds tick by, and his rage compounds at her silence. “Answer the fucking question, Raccoon Eyes –“

           “Bakugo,” Tenya interrupts, sliding next to him, “while you may be angry, you have no right to use that tone on a fellow student – gah!” He flies a few feet away, not truly hurt. His shirt needs a healthy wash after Katsuki scorched it, but he left Tenya relatively unharmed.

           A kindness Mina does not believe he will show her, give the terrifying gleam in his hazy red eyes. “It’s – it’s my homework,” she guesses, panicking, “I gave it to you, to review! Y’know. I didn’t think it was that bad…”

           “Really?” he asks, waving the papers around, “So I guess Yamada’s really interested in our sex lives, huh? Do I need to take this to Nezu?”

           Mina pales, her usually pink skin lightening to an almost human color. “What?” she gasps, “How do you… you can’t…” Suddenly, Mina remembers.

           It was her turn. All the girls messaged her their month’s work, one after another. She dragged each file onto the same memory stick Mina saved her classwork on, tediously double and triple checking the folders to make sure nothing overlapped. Accidentally, Mina opened one of Momo’s documents. Glancing at the title, she found herself succumbing to curiosity and entertained herself with a preview. Only in doing so, Mina stole time from other duties. In a rush, she gathered her bag and left for the library. Printing her English assignment and all the stories in the empty computer room. Attention glued to the door, in case anyone stumbled in on her secret. Barely any time left if Mina wanted to arrive at class without earning Aizawa’s wrath, she crammed all the papers into her folder and ran. Forgetting all about the responsibility now that it was complete.

           Until Bakugo showed up holding them all.

           He knocked on her door, kicking it open. Mina glared at him from her desk, headphones in and textbook open. “What?”

           “You wanted me to look at your work?”

           She waved him closer, rifling for the folder and handing it over without bothering to open it. “Thanks!” Mina said, “you’re a life saver.”

           Reflection makes the irony much more palpable.

           While lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize all the attention shift to them. Video game paused, Denki and Hanta crowded behind Katsuki. Squawking about letting them see the pages. Eijiro shifted and settled between her and the other boy, trying to calm him down. Mina was surprised that the hand on Katsuki’s chest wasn’t obliterated for lingering. The other boys in the room shuffled closer in their curiosity, while every girl who knew exactly what Katsuki meant glared at Mina with palpable anger – even Toru.

           Reclaiming her senses, Mina huffs. “You weren’t supposed to read those.”

           “Next time don’t hand them to me,” he said, scowling. Finally he scattered the papers, flinging them about the room. “But what the fuck gives you the right – gives any of you the right to write shit like this?” His finger scans the room, finding each accessory and pinning them with a ferocious stare. “It’s an invasion of our privacy –“

           “It was harmless fun!” Kyoka says, slamming her hands on the table. Momo, seated beside her, startles. “We never shared them with anyone other than ourselves!”

           “That doesn’t make it any better –“

           “And what gives you the moral high ground, huh?” Toru asks, bouncing, “I’ve heard what you boys talk about when you think no one’s listening. How is this any different?”

           “Them, not me! I don’t care enough to discuss the usual dribble coming out of these fools mouths…”

           Out of the corner of her eye, Mina sees Denki shuffle some papers together. He reads the first few lines, Mina shrinking in her seat when noticing the flush dusting his cheeks. “Whoa, Midoriya…” he says, interrupting the brewing fight, “this one’s about you.”

           “Me?”

           “You and… Shoto?”

           Ochaco squeals and hides her face in hand, turning away from the green-haired boy. He glances at her slightly. Concern sparking when she lifts off the ground. Midoriya almost reaches towards Ochaco and grabs her ankle, except Denki shoves the papers into his chest. Attention diverted, Midoriya reads the first paragraph of Ochaco’s story. His lips stretch in embarrassment. “But that’s… that isn’t at all what happened after the Sports Festival! I could barely move my arms!”

           Shoto, interest piqued, leans over to see. “Well that’s a little forward of me…”

           “Kill me,” Ochaco mutters, “Bakugo send an explosion through my chest and just kill me…”

           He doesn’t answer her. “That ain’t even the end of it,” Katsuki says, glaring at Mina again. “Deku and the Half-n-Half Bastard… Lightning Bug and the Psychic Freak… Glasses and Tape Face – you even put Rhinohead in here you sick fucks!” Koji points to himself and then shudders, distancing himself from the puddle of papers.

           Mina splutters. The more Katsuki dragged this out in public, the higher her irritation rose. He stoked the flames of her anger, overshadowing any regret she might have felt. “What’s your problem with this anyway?” Mina asks, “If you saw this then you know none of these stories involved you!” Katsuki staggers from Mina’s direct hit. “Wait,” she continues, eyes brightening, “Is that what this is? You’re jealous?”

           “No,” he says, blushing, “I… I think all of this is wrong, but…” Katsuki bites his lip, sullen, “How the fuck could you not include me?”

           “You weren’t the only one we didn’t write about,” Momo says, attempting a smile, “from our class, you’ll see that we didn’t involve Mineta either.”

           The smaller boy pokes at a few pages in Hanta’s hands, the latter frozen in a crouch while reading. “For once I’m glad none of you included me.”

           “Great, so I’m in the same league as Grape Boy…” he rolls his eyes. The lack of protest provokes him. “Seriously!” Eijiro wrangles Katsuki into a steady hold, his arms woven under his armpits and fingers laced behind the blond’s head. Legs not pinned, Katsuki kicks at the couch. “What fucking ego trip were you all on when you wrote these!”

           “We had rules,” Tsuyu starts, perched on a nearby chair. In all the commotion, she remained unmoved. “When we decided to be serious about our works, we sat together and drew up rules to follow. Like not writing about teachers or certain pro-heroes like Endeavor and Gran Torino. The main point was to leave out anyone we were attracted to –“

           “Attracted to!”

           “Yes, Bakugo, ribbit,” Tsuyu blinks, tapping at her chin, “These were supposed to be fun. Why spoil it with people we wouldn’t want to see involved in these situations?”

           Her dry tone distracts Katsuki from his frustration, disbelief the dominant emotion expressed on his face. Some of it dissipates in Mina, too, who laughs at the ragdoll-like pose Katsuki mirrors while swallowing the heavy pill. Limp in Eijiro's strong grip. She giggles silently, recalling the earlier joy of when this all really started.

           It was Tsuyu’s fault. She showed them a story found somewhere deep on the web, about the Wing Hero: Hawks and Kamui Woods. They staved off her attempts at first. But one by one they all read until when Momo, last to fall, finished and breathed. “That was… I don’t know how to feel.”

           “Tingly?” Toru suggested, leaning on Tsuyu, “That’s what I felt. And warm –“

           “Too warm,” Ochaco agreed, tugging at her pajama top. Kyoka nodded, fiddling with her earlobes. “Like, when Woods morphed his tree-fingers into a –“

           “We don’t need a reminder,” Kyoka jumped, blushing, “the image’s still burned into my brain.”

           “Do you think he can actually do that?”

           “He’s one of the Top Ten I’m sure he can do anything…”

           Mina grabbed the phone from Momo while the other girls discussed uses for Kamui Woods’ quirk outside of battle. She scrolled through the story again, skimming, reading only when she spotted moments that tugged at her cheeks. Soon Mina’s laughter overpowered the nearby conversation. “What’s so funny, ribbit?” Tsuyu asked, taking her phone back with her tongue.

           “This writing,” she said, “I mean, sure at first it was hot but… can you believe what they said right before Woods kissed Hawks? ‘Have you ever flown while sitting down? Let me show you’!” Mina howled, punching a pillow, “And when Woods’ pants were being pulled down – ‘Can that grow like your arms?’ I bet whoever wrote this never even had sex!”

           Toga huffed, crossing her arms. “How would you know? Have you?”

           Her laughter cut off, immediately replaced by choking. Everyone else watched in amusement while Mina pounded her chest to restart her heart. “I-well… no!” she admit, blushing, “But I know more about it than whoever did this! I could write a better Woods/Hawks story in my sleep!”

           “Then why don’t you?” Toru asked, “Why don’t we all?” Everyone blankly stared at her, but Toru powered on. “This could be fun! We can make it a competition – whoever writes the best Woods/Hawks story gets a hundred yen!”

           Ochaco quickly intervenes. “No money,” she said, shaking her head, “Maybe… homework? Losers do the winner’s homework for a week?”

           “We’d all still be writing… sounds like no one would be the winner.”

           “I think the prize doesn’t really matter, does it?” Momo told them all, “We can decide on one later…”

           “You mean you’re willing to do this?”

           Momo blushed, pouting. She brushed her ponytail in nervous habit. “I do think this exercise might prove good for developing our skills,” Momo started, wincing, “and…” Swallowing, tepidness shed and revealed shiny confidence. “The spirit of competition will not only unite us closer as friends, it will push us towards doing our best!”

           Awed, any objection immediately died. They agreed to the competition, ending girls’ night early and began thinking up ideas for their stories. In two weeks, they gathered again. Shared each interpretation of the Woods and Hawks relationship.

           Tsuyu wrote about a relaxing fishing trip that ended with hurried intimacy, threats of intrusion hanging overhead. Kyoka made Wings the initiator, helping the Arbor hero relax in the safety of the Lurkers’ agency. Momo kept the rating appropriate and only dipped into the gutter when describing how both heroes edged close to explicitness while kissing. Ochaco, in similar fashion, felt afraid to push the boundaries. However in a streak of courage, five paragraphs contained a blowjob the heroine stuttered when reading aloud. The most mature stories were from Toru and Mina. Toru with ten pages about the two heroes dangerously enjoying each other’s bodies while soaring above the city. And Mina, ignoring plot, kept Hawks and Kamui Woods in the bedroom for non-stop action.

           “How was that for experience?” she asked her friends, trying her best to tamp down giggles. Everyone else fails, laughing.

           “Slightly better,” Kyoka said, leaning on Momo’s legs, “but I couldn’t keep it straight when you made one of Woods’ arms become a riding crop. It was hot but man…”

           After all stories were read, they spent the rest of the night sharing comments and critiques, laughing throughout it all. When midnight sprung on them, prizes were far from their minds. Only ideas for their next creations.

           “By the third time, we realized this was going to become a regular thing. So Momo drew up a contact –“

           “That was a lot of fun, too!”

           “And we agreed to a few rules,” Tsuyu explains, “first and foremost, no teachers ribbit.” Each girl shared similar expressions of disgust, reminded of when Toru shared the All Might story she found on the same website Tsuyu found the Kamui Woods and Hawks one. “Also we limited the amount of Pro Heroes we could write about ribbit.”

           “But that became boring after a while,” Kyoka said, “And amended to include other students. But only the ones we’d want to read about, y’know?”

           Only Katsuki and Eijiro listened to this explanation. The boys of their class huddled around each other and read their stories with bleak faces. Denki’s hands shook while reading a story where he flirted with Shinsou from the general classes while he worked as a barista. “I can’t believe the girls are fujoshis… even Kyoka…”

           Sero nods. He glances at Tenya, very aware of how foggy his glasses are. “What’s worse is that some of these are written pretty well…”

           Midoriya tugs at his hair, muttering to himself. “Quirks don’t really work like this… why would they think my whips could do that? Kirishima would be uncomfortable no matter how rocky he made himself, and I doubt he could make his…” The hand running through his locks slides down his face and over his mouth.

           Mezo, unreadable with the cloth covering his mouth, shows discomfort with the shifting of his tentacles.

           Katsuki rears for another tantrum. “You saying you don’t want to read about me? Well I didn’t want to read all of that! Sparky and Creep Boy… Deku and IcyHot… Kirishima and Tetsu, Kirishima and Deku, Kirishima and Denki –“

           Mina scoffs, “You’re really that jealous we didn’t write about you?”

           “Fuck no, I could give two shits if you find me attractive!”

           “What’s your problem then?”

           “My problem?” Katsuki barks, veins popping into view on his neck. He extends as far as Eijiro will allow him to. “You wrote about my boyfriend fucking every other guy in the school ‘cept me! That’s my problem!”

           Suddenly the girls’ secret obsession becomes the B-plot. Katsuki continues spewing nonsense while every stare lock onto him and his captor. Eijiro, with enough awareness, hides behind Katsuki best he can. Red spikes of his hair poking out, regardless what he does.

           “Boyfriend?” Mina gasps, “You and Kirishima are dating!” Heedless of the danger, she leans on the arm of the couch. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

           Katsuki won’t answer. His reveal was the last coherent sentence before he descended into mutters filled with more curses than actual words. Eijiro stutters under the spotlight, unable to look anyone in the eye. “Y’know,” he finally says, “it’s getting late –“

           “Kiri…”

           “I’ll try and calm him down,” Eijiro drags Katsuki to the elevators, explosions trailing after them, “sorry about the mess. I’m sure Bakugo will apologize in the morning or… whatever!” They successfully escape. No one following, their constitutions failing after suffering through two bombshells shattering their worlds.

           Mina collapses onto the couch, thinking. About all the stories she and the others churned out featuring her sturdy friend and whoever fit the scenario best. What was best about Eijiro, and why he starred in so many stories, was his uncanny ability to have chemistry with anyone.

           Even boys with bad attitudes who everyone figured preferred battlefields over bedrooms.

           Katsuki might have believed they tossed him aside casually, but they debated heavily about including him. “We should take fair out of the conversation,” Ochako said during deliberation, “There’s no room for fair in this.”

           “But there’s some potential for stories, isn’t there?” Toru asked, “I mean, him and Midoriya? Childhood friends turned rivals? Come on –“

           “Gross,” Kyoka frowned, “you’ve seen how he treats Midoriya, though. And that’s the improvement… I’d feel weird whether reading or writing…” Toru agreed, and no one could find any scenario that would allow Katsuki to join the cast. In no way could they make Katsuki seem sexy to them.

           Until tonight.

           “I must say,” Momo speaks first, drawing attention, “Watching that and… learning new things has – well, it’s inspired some ideas in me. Like, I might want to write - “

           Toru latches onto her hand, squeezing it. “Thank God I’m not the only one.”

           “Me too,” Kyoka admits, “I can’t believe this was all it took…”

           “It makes sense though, ribbit,” Tsuyu says, “Fitting of the Beauty and the Beast trope… I’m sure many of us can come up with different ways to explain how their friendship shifted?” The others nod, even Ochaco who finally descended from her embarrassment. They voice their excitement, especially when Momo produces notepads for them to start writing notes for themselves.

           Mina watches, waiting to join. She still reels from the roller coaster the past few minutes were, catching her breath. Shifting, Mina readies to stand. Except movement from off to the side makes her pause.

           The rest of their friends also watch the girls, wariness guarding their features. In a giant group they stand bundled together like statues. Astounded at the casualness from each girl in returning to their hobby that, only moments ago, was secret. “How the fuck,” Denki mutters, “can they do that?”

           “Better yet, are we going to let them?”

           She rolls her eyes, chuckling. “It’s all in good fun guys,” she says, moving towards the rest of the girls. Mina accepts a pad and pencil, pointing the later at them. “Besides, think of this as practice for when you’re pro-heroes.”

           “What?”

           “You’ll need thick skin once all your fans start writing about you.” She winks, scribbling on the first page. “Be glad for the reprieve. With the untapped potential of Bakugo and Kirishima, we’re gonna be fed for months.” Laughter erupts from their circle and shatters the hold on the boys, sending them scattering like cockroaches. Done with them, Mina turns to Momo. “You said you had ideas… what were they?”

[sweetbyte]

Title: One by One 

Rated: T // Villain!Momo 

Pairing: Momo-centric/TodoMomo 

Chapter One  | Previous

She’s different. He thinks the moment she walks in.

She walks with an air of superiority, but her expression is anything but. She gives him an acknowledging nod and a tentative smile before sliding into the desk next to his.

The way she sits and folds her hands should demand attention in the crowd they are used to, but she’s settled for the inconspicuous corner in the back of the room. It’s peculiar but it’s nothing to fault her for, that’s why he is in the back too. To escape unwanted attention.

As more students file in, he notices her scan them briefly. It’s familiar; cold and calculating. It’s something his father does. She’s breaking them down; looking for weaknesses. It’s unsettling.

She turns to look at him, surprised at being caught and smiles sheepishly, letting a small blush adorn her face.  He wonders if it’s even real.

He turns his attention to the front as the teacher walks in and feels the hairs on his neck stand. He knows her eyes are still on him. She’s breaking him down in her head, and it’s worse that she doesn’t even hide it.

Their teacher makes them introduce themselves. They are classmates, maybe one day they will be comrades he says. A kid, Katsuki Bakugou, snorts at that as if the most ridiculous he’s ever heard.

She’s the last to introduce herself and she stands somewhat proud but definitely poised.

Momo Yaoyorozu.

She is clear but her voice is soft and welcoming even. She takes her seat after expressing gratitude and wishes of success.

She’s different, he thinks as her gaze lingers on their teacher now as he begins to fill them in with things they should know.

He hopes he’s not the only one who sees it.

-

He’s interesting, she thinks as soon as she walks into the room. He’s the first one there and he’s seated in the back. He likes to be out of attention, but his whole appearance warrants nothing but. Interesting, she thinks as she also makes her way to the back to take the corner.

Momo decides to offer him a smile before sitting down next to him. He somewhat nods, she can’t tell, before redirecting his attention to the front. She notes that he’s not meddlesome. That or he doesn’t think much of her. It’s interesting.

She catalogues the rest of the students she’s supposed to share the class with as they walk in. One boy sneers as soon he enters. Fit, she notes, as she sees a good amount of muscle on his arms. Ill tempered. He meets her gaze and snarls. Feral. Loose cannon, no doubt.

A girl’s uniform comes into view, but no girl. Self-explanatory, she thinks. Invisibility.

Another had headphone jacks that extended from her ear lobes. Quirk of the sonoric nature, possibly useful in espionage. If keen hearing is her strength, it will also be her weakness.

A taller boy walks in. He’s poised and confident, or at least its what he’s projecting. He’s walking like he has something to be proud of. She takes note of his legs and it makes sense. An Iida, how cute.

She continues this process and she finds some are easier to pick apart than others. The last one, or ones, that enter the classroom include a smaller kid. He’s meek, soft and looks particularly fragile. The feral boy immediately stiffens and hisses at him. There’s obviously a past between them. The small boy is being yelled at for not belonging, accused of not having a quirk. She almost feels bad, but her curiosity will always trump her sympathy. From what she can gather, there is nothing significant that stands out at all, but there is no way he could have enrolled and pass the entrance exam without a quirk, unless he was a recommended like her which she doubts he is.

Her chain of though is broken by the feeling eyes on her. Sure enough, when she turns he’s staring at her. It’s a blank look, made as if to say, ‘I know what you are doing’, but there’s no way he can know so she just sends him a smile. When he doesn’t react, she knows she has to look after this one too.

Aizawa walks in and reveals himself the one in charge of the class.

He starts with introductions and she takes the time to put names to the people that stood out to her.

Headphone jacks, Jirou Kyoka. Feral boy, Bakugou Katsuki. Indeed, the Iida boy, Iida Tenya. Meek kid, Midoriya Izuku.

Finally.

Shouto Todoroki.

Son of Enji Todoroki, number two hero.

How so very interesting.

-

Being the first day, there is another flock of photographers congregated on the premises of UA when she exits. She walks through them with a practiced grace and finally allows herself to breathe when she makes it pass the gates of her property.

The beauty of the Yaoyorozu estate is unparalleled, really. The grounds are always tended to and kept in impeccable conditions; the vegetation lush even in harsh weathers. Inside the décor is majestic and regal as such had been her mother’s preference. It’s kept spotless and untouched and practically uninhabited, which isn’t far off from the reality.

As she’s greeted by the main keeper, an older woman who had watched her since diapers and now only looks at her with pity, she excuses herself to head to the main office that had once been her father’s. She finds a neat stack of paperwork waiting for her no doubt from her father’s associate, or rather her associate now. She’s not foolish to think she can actually run a business on her own, she’s only a teenager, so she relies heavily on her father’s trusted associate. She signs him a bit more shares and lets him do what he does best. Of course, she is also not naïve enough to think he’s doing this out of the goodness of his heart so naturally she has him report to her daily and signs what needs to be signed. Its tedious and will be even more so now with school added to her plate, but it must be done.

She allows herself a moment to sigh before taking a seat in the leather chair that makes her seem smaller than she is, and addressing the reports dutifully left for her. As tired as she is, she takes her time to go through all the paperwork accurately. She flags things that don’t make sense to her or require further explanation, and signs what seems reasonable.

She’s approximately about 15 minutes in before she feels a shift change in the room and she stops herself from rolling her eyes. She doesn’t acknowledge her visitor’s presence fully aware it’ll bother him. ‘To be kept waiting by a child, preposterous!’ she can almost hear him sneer.

She resists the urge to smirk when she hears him huff in impatience.

“May I help you?” She asks indifferently, still filling out her paperwork.  

“He wants to know how your first day at UA went.” He all but bites out and it amuses her endlessly.

“Which one?” She asks, eyebrow arched, as she finally graces him with her attention.

“Hardly concerns you.” He dismisses and this is exactly why she dislikes Kurogiri. It doesn’t matter. They don’t need to like one another anyway.

“Fine,” She begins, almost petulantly. “unproductive for the most part. I have begun to work up a blueprint for the building, should be completed in the next couple of days.”

“Have you gotten the opportunity to meet him?” He hisses, yellow eyes narrowing into slivers on his form an she can’t stop the eyeroll she gives at the sheer childishness of it.

“The Symbol of Peace?” She taunts relishing in his look of extreme displeasure. “No, not yet. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Very well, if that’s all the information you can supply, I’ll be off.” She nods as Kurogiri disappears through his portal without acknowledging her further, the prick.

She sighs again, letting herself freely fall against her chair taking note of the dwindling rays of light from the window. Its times like these where she feels the weight of her actions. She feels doubt, hesitancy and even remorse threatening to sallow her whole. Her eyes close and she wonders how she even ended up in this situation before they flutter open to land on a picture fame on the desk.

Oh, that’s right, she thinks as she stares at the picture of a happy family, the family she once had, and it all rushed back to her. The coldness of the night, the screams of pain, the pleas of mercy, the smell of burning flesh.

What she would give to forget.

A/N/ Don’t mind me, I’m trying to write as much as I can before I get into another slump.. This is another chapter posted onto AO3 that I forgot to update here. Thank you! 

[terato-kiss-blog]

Scenario with Jirou (Earphone jack) and Kendo (Big fist) comforting a s/o having an anxiety attack please?

Hoo boy. These kind of turned into monsters? I dealt with anxiety attacks pretty regularly in high school, and though they’re rarer now I still have them, as do a good number of my friends. So as you might be able to guess, this was an ask that hit close to home. I’m putting them both under the cut so as not to take up the entire dash, but before I let y’all get to business I want to make it clear that my inbox is always open for anyone who needs comfort or a space to vent. Mental illness is a hell of a thing, and you all deserve love and support like these two lovely kids provide. On that note, I hope you like it, anon. 

Jirou

It was supposed to be a nice day, and now you were ruining it.

You had been so excited when you found out about the concert in the park - it wasn’t a very well-known band, but bonding over your mutual enjoyment was one of the things that brought you and your girlfriend together, and (most importantly) it was free. You’d met at her place bright and early, her parents cooing over your ensembles of ripped jeans and shredded band tees until she dragged you out the door, ears red and a not-entirely-convincing scowl.

You hadn’t noticed at first, too busy screaming lyrics at the top of your lungs and rocking to the wild beat, but the crowd has grown since you’ve arrived, a mass of moving bodies surrounding you and you know, somehow, that there are eyes on you. Only you, the one person in the crowd not dancing, the one whose heart pounds louder than the drums, the one whose eyes are starting to fill with tears. You know that they’re watching you, wondering why you’re here if you can’t even handle a crowd -

You don’t realize that you’re moving until you burst out of the wall of people, the cool air a shock to your system. It takes you another second to realize that Jiro is the one moving you, fingers locked tight around your limp wrist, and now you’re crying for real because this was supposed to be good and you couldn’t handle it.

She leads you to a bench, sitting you down and guiding your head down to rest on her narrow shoulder. She gently shushes your choked-out apologies, murmuring reassurances that you’ve done nothing wrong, that she doesn’t blame you in the least, that it will be over soon and you’ll be okay. You’re dimly aware of her earlobes extending before her Quirk activates, the not-so-distant sounds of blaring guitar and screaming crowd fading to nothing until all that’s left is the sound of your breaths - hers deliberately slow and steady, yours rapid and uneven.

It still seems to take hours before you can match your pace to hers, exhausted and shaking in the aftermath. “Fuck,” you squeak, tongue dry and heavy in your mouth. Then you say it again, firmer this time, and she laughs a little.

“Yeah. You feeling better?”

“Getting there,” you say, gently prodding at your face. You groan when your fingertips come away streaked black, flopping back onto her shoulder. “Shit. Do I look ridiculous?”

“Nah, messy makeup is a super punk look.”

You smile, weak but genuine. “I think that’s more of a goth thing. Or maybe emo?”

“You can pull off anything, so it’s not like it matters,” she says with a deceivingly casual shrug and rising to her feet. “Listen, Momo told me about this really cute smoothie place nearby. I was gonna take you after the concert, but I’m ready to go now if you are?”

It doesn’t take long for your relief to override any lingering guilt, a weight lifting from your shoulders at the prospect of getting somewhere nice and quiet. You grab her offered hand, rising on steady legs and using your grip to tug her closer and press a chaste kiss to her lips. “Thank you for taking care of me, Kyoka. I’m lucky to have a girlfriend like you.”

If anyone else made her blush like that, you know she’d scoff and brush them off, maybe even inflict a light punch if particularly embarrassed (you’ve seen this happen to Kaminari more times than you can count.) Instead Jirou kisses you again, lingering for a moment before pulling away and leading you towards the smoothie shop, chattering softly about Momo’s recommendations for the menu. She doesn’t let go of your hand.

Your heart’s still beating fast, but you know it’s for a much more pleasant reason now.

Kendou

The worst thing about anxiety attacks, really, was when you felt them coming on - felt the world start to shift, the words of your classmates melting into static, your heart rising into your throat - and yet there was nothing you could do to stop it.

They’re hard to pinpoint as attacks to most people, which is why it took so long for you to get a diagnosis (even though you’d been having them since you were barely walking.) You’ve never (as far as you can remember, at least) fallen into the kind of hysterics media tended to display panic attacks as, the sobbing or shaking or tearing of hair. Instead, you just… retreat, unwillingly stepping sideways out of a body that no longer wants to respond to your brain, remaining outwardly silent and still even as you beat yourself bloody on the walls of your own skull. You know that your tells aren’t particularly obvious.  

Well, except to one person.

Your phone buzzes gently against your desk, screen flashing. Dragging your eyes up from your lap seems to take herculean effort, but there’s a palpable sense of relief when you focus enough to read the message on your screen.

Itsuka 💕: Can you talk?

You’re pretty sure that’s a no, and in all honesty you’re afraid of what you’d sound like if you tried, so instead you muster up enough strength to shake your head, feeling more like a malfunctioning robot than a human. 

Another buzz, and a second message fills your screen.

Itsuka 💕: Do you need to get out? Can I touch you?

You think your nod looks a little more natural this time, but you could also just be fooling yourself. Kendou’s thoughtful enough not to lay a hand on you until she’s in your field of vision, gentle smile not quite masking the concern in her eyes. She has to practically carry you out, an arm wrapped tight around your shoulders; as much as you will yourself to walk with her, your legs won’t cooperate. As it is, you only just make it to a bathroom before your knees buckle and you slide inelegantly to the floor, leaning your forehead against the cool tile wall. It helps. Barely.

She doesn’t touch you, though you know she wants to; she’s a physical comforter by nature, but you know from years of experience that when you’re like this, the last thing you want is to be touched. Instead she joins you on the floor, position innocuously prim in your mundane surroundings - not quite close enough to touch you, but close enough that you’re intensely aware that she’s here. That she won’t leave you. 

That helps. A lot. 

It’s quiet for a long time, only broken by her hums and the sharp twangs once you come back to yourself enough to snap the rubber band looped around your wrist. It’s always a slow return, but you get there eventually, and she waits with the patience of a saint as your breathing evens out and the jitters running through you slow to a stop.

“Monoma’s going to ask what happened, you know that, right.” Your voice comes out flat and inflectionless, too weary to bother making it a question. Kendou nods knowingly.

“Well, he can be a dick -” and that startles a snort from you, hearing the ever-composed big sister of 1-B use such language, “- but even he has limits. He won’t push if I tell him not to.”

You grunt in acknowledgement, rising to your feet and immediately regretting your life choices as your knees cry out in protest after kneeling for - how long? Almost fifteen minutes, a cursory check of your phone reveals. For you, that’s actually not terrible. 

“You still have a few minutes before class starts,” Kendou says, offering your bag. You brush your fingers lightly against hers as you take it, slinging it over your shoulder as you consider your options. 

“Can you let Yamada-sensei know I’ll be a little late? I want to…” You trail off, realizing that they’re probably isn’t any physical evidence to clean up. Still, a splash of cold water would do you good. Kendou understands. 

She extends her hands but stops just short of actually touching you, letting you return the gesture and link your hands with hers. Another shadow of concern darkens her blue eyes at the red welt forming on your skin, and she slowly raises your hand to her face, eyes on yours to search for any sign of disapproval. She finds none, and you sigh contentedly at the press of her lips to the stinging skin, turning your hand so you can cup her face. 

You step into her embrace for only a heartbeat, bumping your forehead against hers before playfully shoving her towards the door (at least one of you should get to class on time.) She blows you a kiss as she leaves, even though you’ll only be apart for minutes at most. You’re dating a dork. 

Still, you think to yourself as you meet your own gaze in the mirror, cheeks pink and eyes tired. Anxiety attacks may be one of the banes of your existence, but with her by your side, they always seem a little more tolerable. 

[fictionallyattractive]

Kids Just Gotta Have Fun

[Fandom: My Hero Academia.] [Rated: M - Mostly for Harsh Language and Alcohol Antics] [College AU] [Pairings: Izuku Midoriya/Shoto Todoroki + Katsuki Bakugou/Eijirou Kirishima + Other Minor Pairings and Dates]

Can Also Be Read Here On AO3! ♥

Chapter 1: One Of the Cool Kids

     Izuku realized almost instantly that this was a mistake. This crowded, woozy, place was a bad choice. The music that was too loud- the voices that were too stoned, too crude to be heard was a poor decision blasting like techno over speakers he wove away from in a hypnotized step.

    The furniture was a blockade he could barely avoid then; his arms felt bruised from the bumping. His legs almost felt more numb than his stomach sucking out the poison of his drink swirling around where his hand clasped solidly in the heave of his sudden breath.

    That drink was his second mistake after showing up here in this distorted group of peers all taking on new, seemingly, wilder masks of themselves.

    But he could still taste that bitterness on his tongue. Something that wasn't among the berry and the tangy soda water as he abandoned the last cup by the mantle and sat as far as he could from the noise boosting the chaos induced from the bit of alcohol Izuku couldn't wash away from his already hazed thoughts.

    Maybe some part of him came to make friends. The party was like an invitation to meet and greet with whoever he wanted; it was supposed to be that chance for Izuku to finally make that move from quiet "nerd" to a kid who actually made an impact.

    That perfectly timed blow to the social world that would make checking his accounts worth the while when he tried not to doze off in English class.

    The only faces he could see were those he'd never seen a day in his life. But why would he? They were from another college, some local gig he'd only heard of in side chatter and brochures he passed by through the main halls of his own campus suddenly brimming with the likes of their class.

    What he did know about them was that they weren't like his own friends. They weren't Ochako Uraraka dancing almost surrounded by her best friends with that gleaming grin taken over with ethereal happiness when she moved.

     No, they had Camie, a streak of whimsy whose mouth ran like a motor when dunked in the punch Izuku tossed away. A blonde with a defined interest in companionship who should have been someone Izuku would have liked.

      Unfortunately, he was frozen. His legs wouldn't work now when they flopped out on the nearest sofa and gave in. Honestly, he felt as though he'd been betrayed by everything. His own emotions were fried between longing to just dance and let go- to celebrate the unknown and kick back another drink like Yo Shindo who hid insults under compliments in a snide grin only his classmates could enjoy.

    They were just college students. He had no reason to fear them like snakes, spiders, like creatures of complete darkness that watched as Izuku tried to shut his mind and mouth before feeling vomit edge down the shaft of his throat harshly in an acidic bile Camie alluded to with a quizzical expression.

     Her drink was gestured toward him in place of her hand, eyes narrowed kindly as Izuku listened to her question ring out. "Are you okay?"

     Actually no, he wanted to explain, clutching back the desire to purge the dizziness and the useless anxiety. But he had a feeling all that would come up was lunch and the bottle of water he'd guzzled just before opening the door to this thriving location.

    And, if it mattered at all, Izuku just wanted to get out before everything came out. The twirl of emotions, of his insides, of the urge to bail out of there like the Flash if his system were half paralyzed and half awe-struck by the watchful eyes of mysterious peers all content to be sipping liquor straight out of a glass bowl Izuku dodged just as heels slammed the wood floor and dashed from his seat.

    Camie stepped aside gracefully, her smile appearing as soon as the green-haired student booked it from under her gaze with his fingers spread across his lips ready to burst when he didn't even know where to run for.

    "Bathroom to the right, I think!" Her voice called, but he was probably out of reach of even her booming voice lilting back to the rest if her crew when Izuku was buried out of sight and out of mind in the corner of the dancefloor next to those he knew well enough to feel a little more at ease.

    "Whoa- not on me, please!" Hanta Sera cried as he flinched away from his friend when Izuku's hand dropped from his jawline suddenly. While the urge to let it out faded he still felt like shit.

    Like it was lurking under his gut, paining him with the misery of deep breaths just as his lingering classmates observed when he slumped to the wall, and held it back once more just to say something back.

    "I'm good," He lied, one hand brushing away the touch that Hanta offered as the other braced himself to the wall. "I think I need some sleep or at least a bathroom very soon-"

    "Next door on your right," Denki Kaminari spoke up, clinging back from the fear of being the target of bile. Still, his face brought comfort. A sharp grin, jagged hair that formed black and blond spikes his hands could course through crudely if he tried.

     "I think I'll be okay for now," Came the weak response Izuku consoled him with, attempting to force back that glazed look of clamminess in his face and skin. It all felt kind of gross and yet exhilarating at one time; it was thrilling yet disgusting- that somehow surging feeling in his veins causing Izuku to crank out a single smile back to his friends. "Unless you want to hang around and see."

   Denki dramatically pushed his body to the wall in a laugh. "Don't do it, I swear to god-"

    "I won't!"

    Izuku pondered, maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe those random kids just weren't his cup of tea- they just weren't capable of understanding what it was like hoping someone would just find the time and will to talk to him instead of him doing all the talking.

    His heart was racing, yet his brain wasn't working on hyper drive anymore. Maybe the upperclassmen were right when they said he needed to cut loose and find what it meant to let go- to have the time of his life before he was graduating with piss poor grades and it didn't quite work out for him like he'd hoped.

     Like a fall-back plan that only a drop-out could come up with, he thought, or someone like Minoru Mineta who only dreamed he would ever study like the rest of them and make it big. He'd think something like a wild party would make paying thousands of dollars worthwhile.

    But, the thing was, Izuku hated that plan. The one that said his memories would last forever when they didn't even last the minute, the hour- the second he was damn near wasted after even just a few more sips of coaxing.

    Hanta could do it. He could take the taste like a champion unlike Izuku would have ever seen! Frankly, he was proud of the guy. The dark hair being pushed back over his forehead as he chugged it, setting the cup aside in a bow as Denki and someone else applauded- a blur in Izuku's fragmented state that couldn't even focus on a face anymore.

    There was a crew in the corner playing a couple of games creeping on the border of inappropriate. Tangled lips, bumped noses played around a bottle with their cellphones snapping pics of good hookups Izuku was too shy to join.

    He'd never been kissed- never been touched like the dancers around Kyoka Jirou making her feel like the last girl alive in the midst of heated drops and beats blasting under her sneakers Izuku had to watch or see it all.

    He couldn't dance either. And he could never dance like them with hips in such a circular motion- arms clinging to one another til his breath was lost among the gaping guys who had to move along or be caught dead.

    There was confusion- his tipsy stare losing its impressions as he stumbled more so thank walked among his classmates. They were just faces now. They were just another person in the mass of body heat and breathy, slurred, sound.

    But he could still hear the sounds.

    Chanting, a roaring battle of tones and arguing shouts that butted against each other like horns in every screeching challenge they gave.

   He just didn't know how it started. How it came to this sequence of threats and harsh words.

    Something Izuku could still see? That Inasa Yoarashi was at least a couple inches taller than Shoto Todoroki and staring down at him like the barrel of a gun trained on his scarred face. His menacing words minced like tiny knives- wrenching a painful insult into the face of Izuku's classmate mercilessly.

     Inasa didn't need to think about it. He hated the kid, and he hated him for making him have to hate him- making him waste his time standing like there a statue when Inasa was prepared for the first shot to be taken.

    Shoto had his fist drawn; his teeth were gnashed together tight as Izuku recalled hurdling between the gathering crowd of lifted voices for one reason- something he forgot as he bee-lined through the hallway and felt his heels dig into the wood just to watch how white hands were shoved into Shoto's chest and tried to knock him back.

    "Go on," Inasa snapped. "Hit me like the hero you are."

    Shoto was ready to try, but his form stayed frozen even in the heat of the situation consuming him.

    Not that Yo would have let him fall. He just shoved him back in, tossing away the reasoning to stop it all before it really began- but he was just another drunken teenager screaming "Fight!" at the top of his lungs into the circle of punches soon to be thrown as they all watched.

    He could hear Momo Yaoyorozu crying out to stop them- her panic evident. Minoru wanted to see how it played out- his excitement building like bricks the way Izuku's heavy chest and stomach felt when he let his own voice ring out, but it seemed to mean almost nothing.

    "Stop it," Izuku felt his lips exclaim, or so he thought. Maybe it was just a mumble. Perhaps no one even heard him say a thing as his arms began forcing open a hole in the crowd before him, watching it all go down like a ship in the debris when Shoto Todorki's head turned acutely from the way Inasa swung.

   "Stop it-"

    "Hey, Izuku!" Someone cried, gasping aloud as their shout was drowned upon dozens of other exclamations and groans sounding through the herd.

    "How dumb are you?" Someone asked loudly when it all halted abruptly when the floor was all that Izuku felt under his palms and his cheek thudding hard with his heartbeat that made everyone sound so far away.

    He'd honest to god been punched so many times before that he would have thought he would have learned to expect it. But they just never stopped throbbing. Never started making him reconsider the things he did before diving face-first into a brawl that wound up getting him smacked down brutally into the floor at his friends' feet as they divided to help him up.

    "You would rather just let your friend take the hit than fight back," Inasa snickered as his back turned from Shoto, ignoring how the UA students fussed over Izuku like herded cattle. Izuku heard him say it, grinding his teeth as his eye felt like it bled from its socket when his expression twitched.

   Even though it was just the alcohol, for the most part. It was just the thrill of the situation that drove him to become some idiotic hero whose face was growing twice the size of a balloon- he just wanted to feel like he hadn't done something so intensely dumb at that second when the party was over.

    Mostly because Toshinori Yagi and Shota Aizawa, a couple of pretty pissed off teachers looming over the scene said so.

    "Scrape him off the floor," Mr. Aizawa demanded with a sigh. His bloodshot eyes stared jaggedly over to Camie and Yo who began gathering their things as they prepared to depart. "And everyone get out."

    Too bad Izuku didn't remember much more than that.

    Waking up after that was just a little worse. It was a pinch of humiliation mixed with a hefty amount of swelling pressing into the pillow he turned toward in a miserable groan. It felt like it throbbed to the touch, his fingers sliding away as they threaded into emerald green of his hair.

    The sound of the alarm next to his head was a nuisance, the burden of his classes weighing his body deeper into the mattress as though he were being sucked into its grasp. But he could hardly find the energy to move, the will to search for the droning sound blaring close to his ear as Izuku felt everything shriek with pain at once.

   His head, his stomach, his face that despised his every movement even when drawing the pillow across his jaw like an ice pack that only soothed its scorching agony for just a moment when dragging his legs over the edge of the bed creaking on his cautious steps.

    One step closer to a sight he'd never get out of his brain- one that paralyzed his entire body just grazing its dreadful scene in the reflection. Even when dim, it was obvious.

     The blackened flesh that plastered his jaw, the bruised complexion of his cheek widened like the rounded shape of a fist he could still feel planting into the side of his face. Like he could still act out his dramatic failure by flopping onto the floor- that's how fresh it felt- how it looked when he dared lean in closer to inspect its damage.

    Severe enough that he cringed, rubbing his nape awkwardly as excuses ran rampant through his mind. But who would believe them?

    With his phone running off the hook with notifications he was positive not a single soul would think he ran into a bathroom door or suffered some unfortunate baseball accident. Not when everyone who knew him had seen his hundreds of superhero posters and collections of manga- not really one for sports after all.

    If he learned anything from that one, incredibly strange incident, it was that he acted stupid, drank himself stupid, and, now of all things, wound up looking stupid with the trophy of Inasa Yoarashi swelling out to be traced by his finger like a tumour stretching out of his face.

    But that's just what he got for playing it off cool.

    Chasing the pills with coffee made it a little better. Katsuki Bakugou only felt his best when not slumped over his homework hungover; his ideal morning right now fading back like a dream when he thought about grasping the sheets of his bed, forgetting the exams like his end of the nightmare was over.

    The pills dulled the headache at least, and the coffee made him feel like he'd slept more than the three hours after being cast out of the main building like trash for winding up tipsy and out of his mind like the rest of them.

    Losers.

    And he wasn't one of them; not a wimp that couldn't force out thoughtless ideals on paper for his essay due in a day as it formed on his notebook aimlessly. It meant nothing. His mind sloshing out garbage with ease as he leaned against his wrist, pressing into his temple as the pressure still canned his process painfully.

   He swore it felt too warm outside anyway- hard to focus even when shucking the Varsity jacket absorbing more sunlight than needed in the autumn breeze sucking all his concentration like sap.

    Maybe it was all a blatant trap. Distractions engulfing the green in masses, all staring down at their phones like they had been apart of the reel of last night's gamble. The events posted on every site available to their mindless devices displaying every angle of the students no one got to see.

    Not when they were losing their damn minds over a few tastes of alcohol slipped in like a phantom drug to their drinks. Just a bunch of idiots lost to the devices of mind games and slurred behaviour that made Katsuki's teeth grind.

    Because he was among those idiots.

    Hell, he couldn't handle the liquor either. It made him want to gag- the taste so bitter it made him choke- its dizziness still lingering as it preyed on his weakness. It played him like the fool he was and made him into the kind of spineless creature he refused to become.

    And the chance that any of those cameras saw that mocked him. It destroyed him as his fingers stretched tighter around his pencil with efforts to think back to the passage he scanned with a hefty sigh.

    Did he even give a fuck about poetry? Did any of these lines mean anything but nonsense to him?

     The answer was no, but it wasn't like he focused on them enough to find any meaning. He wanted to think about watching Shoto Todoroki getting served with something well-deserved. At least, that's what Katsuki thought of it.

    Watching Inasa hover him, bark at him like a mad dog with his hands shoving him, pushing him down a few notches while Katsuki joined the crowd and just begged them to fight it out. It was the right thing to do. Stupid as all hell, but it felt right.

    Shoto could take the hit, and he got to see him battered like yesterday's hero with pleasure. Win-win, and it made Katsuki smirk just recalling it. One of the only things he could remember really since he was so out of it after that chugging contest with his friends that it all blacked out.

    Roses are red, violets are blue, if I hated anyone it'd be fucking you.

    Now that was poetry, he teased in his mind, humming in victory as it made his eyes roll. He'd do any kind of procrastinating to avoid this shit right now.

     He'd even talk to the one guy he almost couldn't stand the most. A lie, true, but it was one of those pride things weaved into his skull as his hand slammed down on his textbook when he raised his voice across the green as a body passed. Their vivid hair stood out among the bland colour scheme of the outdoors.

    "What the fuck are you doing, dumbass?"

    Eijiro Kirishima paused roughly, face packed with a defensive bewilderment as his body seemed to stiffen at the call. He was dressed somehow well for the morning after the night of their ruined lives.

    Matching jacket with the varsity patch, rugged jeans gashed at the knees sluggishly moving closer with the toss of his bag along the seat opposite of Katsuki Bakugou whose vision narrowed on the lack of gel in his friend's hair.

    Rival, he corrected daftly.

    "You never wear your hair like that," He commented, snubbing him altogether as Eijiro tried to smile and wave his way through the confrontation. "It's fucking weird."

    "When it's down?" The red-head asked curiously, smoothing his fingers at the back of his head where the loose ponytail looped around his fingers that seemed to shake  even as he let them fall away from the holder. "I-I didn't have the energy to style it, bro."

    "Since when do you do anything?" He asked, referring to their athletics, hinting subtly at the last few attempts of training together where Katsuki wound up besting him at a few repetitions of exercises before Eijiro was passing up weights and push-ups for breathers.

    Sly as he was, Katsuki knew it no longer hurt Eijiro to be poked fun at- not by Katsuki who never meant a damn thing he said by default. At least, not when he knew it was the only guy who trusted him enough to say they were friends.

   Friends who bickered, playfully insulted one another- made sure they really felt the burn when they pushed each other to the brink of insanity and athletics.

    But being Katsuki's friend was like playing with fire. It looked cool- a stunning mark on the reputation that scarred and left him feeling a little singed as soon as he saw the blond's mouth open in another rebuttal.

    He always had something witty to say, and Eijiro just wasn't quick enough on the draw yet to top him.

    "Says the guy in the hoodie and sweatpants,"

    "Did you mean, my usual attire?" Katsuki quipped, head tilting as his coffee was chugged back before being cast aside into the nearest trash can.

   "You dressed up for the party yesterday-"

   "That's a damn lie,"

    Ripped jeans and a black tank top definitely cut the edge of dressing up, yes, but it was enough to say that the red-head wasn't foolish for noticing the gap in difference.

    "I want poetry to fucking die- spill the answers before I ruin your day." Katsuki finally cut to the point of calling his Rival over just as he drummed his fingertips on his textbook impatiently.

    Not that Eijiro had any time to actually read their homework very thoroughly himself seeing as his night left him drained- his emotions tipping scales as he felt sweat beading on the back of his skin when Katsuki huffed out a breath that pushed wisps of thin blond over his nose.

   Sharp teeth hesitated to speak, lips drawn over a few syllables as he thought carefully before speaking on his swift, poor, decision. "You just wanted to talk about our homework?"

   "I don't really want to talk to you any other time, so yeah?" His voice tilted to a question for a moment before watching his friend form a sarcastic smirk. "Your lazy ass did your homework, right?"

   "You always steal my answers!"

    A wave of comforting whimsy washed over the dorky athlete, his deep exhale lurking under a thrum of anxiety that slowly slipped back into the confines of his joyful expression when Katsuki gestured needily for the binder Eijiro pulled from his bag. And it was ripped out of his grasp before he could argue- watching as the pages were flipped knowingly to the right section- by memory.

    A display of the frequency that Katsuki Bakugou didn't do his homework like he said when he began scanning the chicken-scratch writing for keywords he could sprinkle into his own essay without remorse.

    "I'll actually do this shit when I'm not hungover,"

    The red-head's hand concealed a yawn as he nodded. "Yeah, Mr. Toshinori says the punch we drank was spiked- don't know who did it though."

    "Why would we?" Katsuki scoffed.

    "'Dunno? Cameras?" He leaned his chin onto the picnic table as he tried scrolling through his phone absently to ease the tension from the rest of his gut at long last. "What do you remember?"

    His fingers stopped on the keys of his typing, reluctant to have asked as his lips moved without reason- his eyes snapping shut as he heard the table creak and his friend mutter something foul.

   "A fucking pathetic fight, I guess? Me chugging a shit drink that tasted like puke? What else you wanna know?"

    Eijiro shrugged, snickering as he rebuked "Your snapchat?"

    Katsuki's eyes rolled, but he slid his cellphone to the willing poetry donator after unlocking the device's screen for him.

   "Send me anything weird, and you're dead."

    "What defines as weird?"

    Eijiro watched as he added the name read off the user screen, the notification appearing on Katsuki's phone as he sent it through and let his trembling hand hold it momentarily.

    Katsuki flipped his book closed, the binder he borrowed being forced back into Eijiro's grasp as he recollected his cellphone with a grunt.

    They both started to stand, the table almost being shifted aside as the red-head's graceless attempts to jolt out of its reach were almost rushed. He was instantaneous to react, his face crudely forming a grin as he tried to end the conversation with a fist bump- or a handshake-

   Katsuki could hardly tell as awkwardly formed as it was.

    And, either way, he didn't care. It was an invitation to grab him by the knuckle and squeeze so hard it made the guy gasp, his heels driven off their stance as Katsuki drove his shoulder into Eijiro brutally until he was knocked off his feet and to the grass with a groan of slight pain when his stomach argued with the strike nastily.

    It was a game they played. A weird strength test that made them somehow feel a little more manly the less it hurt to be tossed into nearby lockers and walls.

    A guy thing, Eijiro liked to explain, but no one could make sense of his pleasure in being almost bullied by Katsuki who watched him struggle to stand for a second as his breath coughed out raggedly and his fingers raked the earth for support.

   It was just like that. Katsuki was an aggressive guy, and he had an oddly aggressive way of greeting and saying goodbye to his friends who stood to wave him off.

    "See ya later," Eijiro called out, watching as Katsuki did nothing to answer him back even after hearing him. But that was best.

   Eijiro clung to his phone, sweat on his palm making it hard to hold it tight as it felt like it would slide out of his touch at any second.

    He could see the message ghosting his notifications as a warning he didn't want to answer yet- his heart shadowed in anxiety again as he felt his teeth bite hard to his lip.

[Best Bro - (Sent 04:02 am) - I don't think you should even ask him about it yet. It's Katsuki, and Katsuki is, well, Katsuki.]

     His fingers began typing back swiftly, breath held as he slumped back against the picnic table, glancing to see Katsuki off by the main building as he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then replied.

[You - (Sent 11:18 am) - He doesn't even remember anything!! D: ]