#and said please give me something without any kind of white sauce on it bc i will die and be absolutely revolted

[saulbaby]

The autism never fuckin hits harder than after somebody gets my order wrong

[random-mha-thoughts]

Name (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x fem!Reader

Anon asked: “suggestion for Todoroki angst : he got in an arranged marriage with S/O because of his dad who offered a large amount of money to her family for this. Indeed it’s not what they are both looking for but Todoroki really acts cold, is sharp, openly criticizes her (a bit OOC ik) ... S/O is hurt but is still trying to be a good wife around the house to make the best of the situation and hide her insecurities. It’s just an idea, if it does not inspire you I hope you will find something better!! xx

Genre: Angst. Just...angst. I’m so sorry in advance plz don’t hate me

Warnings: Grab your tissues, this is a long roller coaster that’s only going downhill OH GOD I’M SO SORRY

Word count: 3,059

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ 

a/n: (Submission 1/3 for my post asking for todo angst ideas!  Thanks for the ask anon!)

Um. This is...depressing.  Really depressing and really intense.  I didn’t expect it would turn out this way.  But it did.  I had 2 other endings, but I instinctively wrote this one.  I actually had to stop and cry for a few minutes because it was just really painful I mean, I know I said I was ready to but I didn’t actually mEAn it

I tried a different style for this, but I think it suits the story well.  It’s 3rd person limited because I wanted you to experience everyone’s feelings in this (gotta maximize on the angst yknow) and half past tense bc of reasons you’ll find out.

God I’m afraid to post this. Is it bad that I love it, I honestly spent so much time writing this, but it hurts sO mUch?? Y’all are gonna hate me, you’re gonna kill me, oh no, just read the thing already, I’m hiding.

Buy me a coffee?

Shoto didn't know how to react to the news.  It's not that he had his eye on anyone in particular, or that he was even interested in marriage for that matter.  But because he proposed it, the man who had spent his entire childhood controlling every aspect of his life, he refused to accept any other intrusions from the man he should call "father."

The strange man across from his father spoke those words so casually.  "So Endeavor, when are these two tying the knot?"

At first, he thought he had misheard or misunderstood.  And then his father responded just as casually, "The date is set for next month."

The normally calm and collected boy almost burst the entire room into flames.  He clenched the silverware so hard his knuckles turned white and his teeth ground together, but he couldn't say anything in front of his father's guest and his daughter for fear of shaming himself.  The girl across from him offered a sympathetic look, but he turned away, already preparing the earful he's going to give his father.

-

"I want nothing to do with this!" he whirled on Endeavor as soon as they were home.  "You've made my life a living hell controlling every single thing!  And now you even want to control my marriage?!"

"I'm doing this for you!" Endeavor bellowed right back.  "For the Todoroki name!  For your future!"

"This is all for you!  I want no part-!"

"If you don't agree, you'll never see your mother or the siblings again."

The calm threat was enough to drench Shoto's wrath into submissive fear.  The flaming monster in front of him proved once again that he hasn't an ounce of sympathy for his blood.  He's learned that family is the only thing keeping his son under his thumb and he still actively exploits that weakness.

All the boy can do is swallow and walk away, retreating to the outside world to escape his bitter reality even temporarily.  Shoto doesn't have outbursts often, but there are times when the straw finally breaks the camel's back, and this is one of them.  All he can do is run until he can't run anymore, reaching somewhere secluded enough where he can burst out in flames and ice without hurting anyone, finally getting to a forest where he can do exactly that and scream to his heart's content.  It's the only thing he can do that is under his own control.

In the month that followed up to the wedding, Shoto barely spoke a word to anyone, choosing to isolate himself.  He only came out when he absolutely had to show his face at functions to the bride's family and look presentable.  His mind was always absent, the time flying in a blur of colors and white.  Thankfully, his father did the preparations, so all he had to do was go along with everything.  Shoto was simply playing a role in a play or movie, he was an actor who deserved an award for being in character for a month.

The night of the wedding, he and his newly-wedded wife were whisked away to their new home, being alone for the first time together.  He didn't even know what she looked like nor did he care.  As soon as they walked through the door of their already-furnished house, he released a heavy breath, brushed past her, unbuttoned his tuxedo, and - cold as his ice quirk - instructed, "I'm going to bed.  Don't come up tonight."  It was the first time he had ever spoken directly to her.

His wife, through this entire ordeal, was patient with him.  She didn't want this arrangement either, but she figured they could at least talk and come to a mutual agreement.  The entire month, she never pushed him to speak to her.  She anticipated that he would be rational about this, as she was told by her family, and that they would be able to talk things over when they were finally alone.  Just as she was going to speak her mind the way she had rehearsed it many times, he dismissed her.  She was hurt, but she understood.  He's exhausted after a whole month of stress and preparations, she rationalized, He just wants to rest.  I wouldn't want to talk to a stranger after all that either.

Resolving to try again tomorrow morning, she undressed (with great difficulty), crept into the master bedroom for her clothes while Shoto showers, retrieved her pajamas quietly, and retreated back to the living room.  The girl searched all the closets for a thick enough blanket and settles down to sleep on a couch, the exhaustion putting her right to sleep.

The next morning, the new Mrs. Todoroki woke up bright and early to make breakfast for her husband as an olive branch.  She toiled away in the kitchen, somewhat making a racket even though she wanted to stay quiet so Shoto can sleep.  Just as she finished setting the table and had to face the question of how to wake him, the boy padded down from the room.

"Oh, morning!" she smiled brightly at him.

He murmured a greeting back only to be polite, his face devoid of any real emotions other than coldness.  He sat as far away from her a possible, thanking her for the meal halfheartedly and digging in without another word.

After waiting a few moments to let him satisfy his hunger, she cleared her throat.  "So, um-"

"Your tamagoyaki needs more soy sauce and butter," he stated bluntly.

She blinked at the harsh comment.  It was shocking he said anything to her at all, and the first thing he said was an insult.

"And the miso has no flavor," he continued in the same tone.

The girl finally gathered her wits.  "I'll do better tomorrow.  Thanks for the feedback, I guess?" she laughed nervously, trying to erase the immense tension Shoto bled into the atmosphere.  When he didn't respond, she tried again.  "I know this isn't something either of us wanted, but that doesn't mean we have to live here like enemies.  We could be friends, or even just roommates!"

"I'd rather be strangers," he interjected harshly.

It felt like a stab in the heart.  Here she was, trying to make their lives somewhat bearable together through their common misfortune, and all he wanted to do was live like ghosts in the same house.

Shoto placed his chopsticks down firmly, glaring her straight in the eyes with the iciest hatred she's ever seen.  "Just to be clear, I want no part of you.  You live your life and I live mine.  You can have the bedroom to sleep at night if you want, but it's mine when I come home to shower and prepare for bed.  We will not sleep, talk, or breathe near each other as long as we are in this house."

She dipped her head in defeat, unable to bear the weight of his stare.  "C-Can we at least have our meals together?" she asked feebly.

It's something he respected, coming from family values no matter how broken.  It's the only exception he made to their less-than relationship.

Months passed and she kept her end of the bargain through a suffocating routine.  At first, the girl was kind, trying to get him to open up to her somehow without overstepping her boundaries.  She made excuses for him constantly.  He's just tired.  The least I can do is leave him alone.  I can't comfort him anyway, I'm a stranger.  He's still upset about the whole thing, he'll come around.  She even begged her boss to let her leave a little early every day to make sure she had ample amount of time to get home, shower, and prepare dinner before Shoto returned.  When he did, he wordlessly showered, sat down to dinner, nitpicked at her cooking, finished eating, and went to sleep on the living room couch, all without even sparing her a glance.

But as every day passed, she grew more weary and worn in her efforts to please him.  She tried to fix every little complaint Shoto had about her cooking or the cleanliness of the house or the laundry, but nothing seemed to satisfy him.  She tried to hold onto the silver lining.  At least he never touched me wrong or took advantage of me, she would think bitterly.  He has the decency not to take his anger out on me.

Then the dark thoughts closed in as he continued ignoring her. Surely, Shoto's only disgusted with his father, he doesn't harbor hatred for her personally.  Then she would remember the hate and disgust in his mismatched eyes the first day of their marriage.  She realized no matter how desperately she tried, he wouldn't show her any signs of warmth or appreciation.  No more did she try to make conversation with him during meals or greet him when he came home.  There were days she thought, Why should I even try?  He wouldn't like it either way.  What's the point of getting up today?  Maybe he'll even criticize how I sleep.  But she still rose out of bed every morning and carried out her routine because it could always be worse.

A sliver of hope came in the form of Shoto's birthday.  The girl figured if she did something just a little special, he would acknowledge her even the tiniest bit.  She spent days beforehand researching and testing out the perfect cold soba recipe because she knew it was his favorite.  She lit some candles on the table and bought a small cake for them to share.

When he came home, she was sure he would notice and say something, but he didn't; he went straight up to the bathroom as he usually did without a word.  Though she felt the glimmer lessen in her heart, she didn't give up.  For the first time in a while, she verbalized her thoughts to him.

"I made your favorite for your birthday!" she chirped as he sat down, setting the plate and a cup of dipping sauce in front of him.  She was so eager for him to try it because she was confident she'd gotten it right this time.  If she were a dog, her tail would've wagged in anticipation as he slurped the noodles into his mouth.  She waited patiently for his feedback, leaning forward in excitement as he swallowed.

"The noodles are slightly overcooked.  And the dipping sauce is too strong, you didn't add enough water."

Her hopes came crashing to a halt.  She couldn't even muster anything else to say as he hastily finished his dinner and rose to leave.

She stood up, heart hammering in her chest.  "What about the cake?"  Anything, something!

"I don't want it."  He turned his back to her.

"I got it for you!"  It was the first time she explicitly stated her intentions, the first time she made herself vulnerable.

"You shouldn't have gotten it at all.  It was a waste of time.  Why did you even try?"  The calm and cold words stung her as he got up and left her in the dining room alone.

His words echoed against the empty walls of the dining room.  She looked down at the cake he disregarded, feeling cold and dizzy.  She took a shaky breath in and out before resting her head on the cold glass table to stabilize herself.  The voice stabs through her even as she closed her eyes to block them out.

It was then she felt bluntly in her mind.  He hates me.  

-

The girl feels nothing but numbing cold, both on her face and inside.  Rolling up to sit, her neck and back cry out in soreness from sleeping on the table, pale light greeting her from the nearby window.  Her face feels strange, and she trudges to the bathroom mirror to check why.  She knows she should be preparing for work, but what's the point?  Her reflection reveals lines across her cheek, probably from sleeping on the edge of the table.  She shuffles to the kitchen because she should probably start breakfast, but why should she?  Leaning against the counter, she can't bring herself to move anywhere.  Her brain buffers as she tries to force herself to think of what to do now.  She doesn't feel sick, but there's a dull, cool feeling in her limbs that she can't face.

The phone rings, catching her off guard.  Glancing at the number, she doesn't hesitate to answer.  "Hello?"

"Hi, baby.  It's me."

Her eyebrows relax, appreciating the sound of a familiar voice.  "Hey, Mom.  What's up?"  She knows her voice sounds weak, she's hoping the woman can't hear it.

"I'm just checking in, you haven't called in a while.  Is something up?  You don't sound good."

"I'm...fine," she stumbles over the word.  "How's dad?"

"He's doing well.  You sure you're not sick, sweetie?"

"I'm not."  She leans her back on the counter.

"Is Shoto there?  How is he?"

And just like that, she feels something dislodge in her throat.  "He's going to work, he probably left early."  She doesn't know, there hasn't been any rustling in the house.

Her mom is silent for a while.  "Tell me the truth.  What happened?"

The sound of her mother's stern voice moves something in her chest.  "It's nothing, I just made a mistake."

"Doing what?"

"I tried making Shoto's favorite dish for his birthday yesterday.  I put so much time and energy into perfecting it for him to enjoy it, but I fell short again."  She laughs bitterly, tears starting to fill her eyes.  "He didn't even want the cake I got for him, he said it was a waste.  I shouldn't have bothered with it."  She blinks and a tear slides down her face.  "I don't know why I was expecting something different to happen, I'm so stupid."

"Honey, where is this coming from?  What's going on?"

She wipes her face, but more spill out of her eyes as she slides down the cabinet onto the cold floor.  "It's just a little frustrating when you're sharing a house with someone you're married to and they barely acknowledge you.  I mean, I expected there to be problems at first given the circumstances, but I didn't expect this."  Her voice shakes with every word.  "God, what did I do to deserve this?  I've lived in this house for 5 months, and never has he even said 'thank you' to me.  Hasn't breathed a word of appreciation to me.  I do so much for him.  I've bent over backwards for him just to make everything done the way he wants it, I've worked my entire routine, my entire life in this house to cater to him, but all he does is complain!"  She sobs into the phone, curling up into a ball as tremors wrack through her body.  "I'm just so tired.  I don't know how much more I can take.  I've made so many excuses for him, but I just can't do anything right.  Why am I even still here?"

Her mother is silent on the other line.  "My baby, if I knew this would happen, I wouldn't have allowed this marriage.  I can't believe you're going through this."

The girl can't formulate words or think anything coherent.  She drops the phone out of her hand, wrapping her legs to her chest as the tremors continue in waves, muffled whimpers the only thing escaping her lips because she's afraid to cry out loud despite being in an empty, lonely house.

-

Shoto heard something he probably shouldn't have, but he definitely needed to hear.  It bothered him for the rest of the day.  It was a sobering slap in the face that made him feel shame and regret, a hard-to-swallow pill that sat in his stomach the entire day.

On his way back home, the sound of her sobs echoes in his mind.  He curses his behavior from the past few months.  At the very least, he made a lady cry, and at the most, he's been a complete asshole.  It's all his fault, that is something he's completely aware of and is ready to take full responsibility for.  All this time, he was stupidly neglecting her out of spite for his father, but he broke her in the process.  He's angry that he had to hear her crying to realize that.  The only thing he can do now is hurry home to profusely apologize for what he's done and hope they can start over new and she forgives him, which he's prepared for her not to do.

Honestly, he deserves all the hate from her that he's shown her.  After everything she's done for him and all the effort she's put into their imbalanced relationship, he wouldn't be surprised if she yelled at him and called him all sorts of names.

Shoto walks through the door, the atmosphere different.  The house is quiet as usual, but it's more eerie than he remembers, as if that means anything with how aloof he was.  He slips into the bedroom and changes quickly, returning back to the quiet dining room where his dinner waits for him at his place.

He tentatively sits and spares a quick glance at the girl who's supposed to be his wife.  Her eyes are still puffy and she's tugging at her sleeves.  It seems she's avoiding him and he was avoiding her before.  He questions how things should start.   When is the right time to speak his piece.  Would she listen to him now?  He decides to take a bite first and chews slowly.  I guess a 'thank you' is a good place to start-

"We're getting a divorce."

He stops suddenly, almost choking.

"You don't owe me anything, and I don't want anything from you."  She isn't looking at him, voice calm and collected.  "Besides, it's better this way since it's what you wanted."  She rises from her seat smoothly.  "I've already packed for the next few nights.  I'll have some workers come in the following weeks to clear out the rest, and the papers will be delivered promptly."  Her footsteps recede from the room.

Shoto turns around to call out to her, and his minds comes up blank.

He never even bothered to remember her name.

~

Sequel?

Sequel!

[gayestnerdsinfiction]

I was gonna request from the list but I want to see too many so whichever one you wanna do that you haven’t yet I’d love to see!

k this is super long and i only just finished it bc i was out of the house almost all day, but here it is. i picked 21:exes trying to make each other jealous au

Edward clenches his jaw, tapping his fingernails against theside of his glass. “Where is he?” he grumbles. “Harley said he would behere.”

“Would you please give it a rest?” Harvey says wearily.“If I knew you just wanted to stalk your weird ex, I wouldn’t have agreed tohang out with you.”

“Look, I’m paying for your drinks. The least you can do is besupportive.” Edward cranes his neck to watch the front door of The Iceberg Lounge.

“Maybe I’d be more… supportive if you bought me a burger,” hesuggests, taking a sip of his whiskey.

He rolls his eyes, still focused on the door. “Fine,” he saysbegrudgingly. “Order me some curly fries while you’re at it.”

“You got it.” Harvey slides out of his seat, heading off totrack down a waiter.

Edward continues to watch the door like a hawk. He feels atwinge of excitement when it swings open after a while, but it just turns outto be some lady and her children. He sighs. Takes a long sip of his drink.

And then it finally happens.

The door opens. A man walks through. And Edward’s heart leapsinto his throat.

He can’t help but stare dumbly at Jonathan as he speaks curtlyto the restaurant host at the podium. He looks thinner. Maybe a bit taller too,if that’s even possible.

He also isn’t alone.

Beside him is a petite, vaguely androgynous person with a messof auburn hair. So he has a type. Edward searches for any indication that theyare, in fact, a couple, but he can’t find anything convincing. He sighs,slumping in his seat.

“Here,” Harvey says, pushing a plate of fries towards Edward. “Iwasn’t sure what dipping sauce you were into so I just asked for ranch. You’rewhite trash, aren’t you?”

“Shh!” Edward hisses, waving vigorously at Harvey. “Look!”

He leans back in his chair to look over Edward’s shoulder. “Ohshit,” he mutters. “He brought a date.”

“Harley didn’t tell me he’d have a date,” Edward mumbles, a hazysense of panic settling in the pit of his stomach.

“A cute date to boot.”He shrugs as Edward shoots him a glare. “It’s true.”

Edward casts another furtive glance at Jonathan, only to seehim staring them down from across the room. He quickly turns around, makinghimself very busy with his fries. “Fuck,” he mutters, “he saw me.”

“You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“Shut up,” he snaps.

Harvey takes a bite of his burger, looking over Edward’sshoulder again. “Don’t freak out,” he begins.

“I’m already freaking out!”

“Well… maybe you should chill out because they’re coming overhere.”

Edward resists the urge to scream. “Okay, this is fine,” hesays, doing his best to regulate his breathing. “This is fine, I just… need aplan. And the plan is…” He looks around the room, searching for anything he canuse to get out of this situation. His gaze lands on Harvey. “Harvey,” he sayscarefully. “I need you to listen to me.”

Harvey’s face twists into a grimace. “Come on, Ed—”

“You owe me,” he threatens.

“I do not, since when do I—”

“August nineteenth, at the bowling alley—”

“Okay, okay!” Harvey hisses, motioning for Edward to be quiet.“What do you want?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend, just for tonight.”

“This is a terrible plan.”

Edward rolls his eyes. “It’s a great plan! I’m a genius, allmy plans are good.” He gives Harvey his signature pout. “Pleeeeease?”

He heaves an annoyed sigh. “Fine. But I’m not going to kissyou. Not after last time.”

“Come on,” Edward pleads. “It’s just for show.”

“Nothing’s ever ‘just for show’ with you,” he grumbles.

“Harveyyyyy—”

“Edward, I’m not going to—”

“Hello.”

Harvey snaps his mouth shut, suddenly very interested in hisburger.

Edward feels every muscle in his body tense as he turns slowlyto face Jonathan. He forces what he thinks is a polite smile. “Hey… Jon.”

Jonathan seems completely unfazed by this whole interaction.He stands with his hands loosely in his pockets, looking down his nose atEdward and Harvey. His partner is standing a few feet away, seeming vaguelyuncomfortable.

“Hey man,” Harvey says gruffly, still avoiding eye contact.

“It’s… been a while,” Jonathan says carefully.

“It sure has,” Edward agrees tensely.

Jonathan nods. Says nothing.

Great. Now he has to figure out something to say. “So…”he begins, searching for literally any topic of conversation. “Who’s yourfriend?”

He looks over his shoulder. “Oh. That’s Sage. They’re… we’rejust getting dinner.”

What the hell does that mean? “Well, Harvey and I arealso… just getting dinner,” Edward replies. “Isn’t that right dear?”

Harvey gives him a Look, but doesn’t argue. “We certainly arepartaking in an evening meal,” he agrees stiffly, adding a curt, “darling.”

“Since when do you consider a plate of French fries dinner?”Jonathan asks.

“For your information, they’re curly fries. And a lot ofthings have changed since we last saw each other,” he says, turning his nose upat Jonathan. “Haven’t they, Harvey?”

“…Yes. They have.” Reluctantly, he looks up at Jonathan. “I am…dating him now. We… fuck. And stuff.”

Classy.

“Really?” he asks, feigning intrigue. “Last I heard you wereon your own.” This is directed at Edward but not delivered to him.

“Well you heard wrong,” Edward says, trying not to snap. “Asyou can see, I’m happily coupled.”

“Fascinating.” There’s a faint gleam in his eyes that Edwardcan’t quite place as he stares unwaveringly at Harvey. “The two of you do seemquite… happy.”

Harvey, stubborn as he is, is not intimidated. “Oh yes,” hesays, matching Jonathan’s tone. “Just overjoyed.”

“Well, good,” Jonathan says lightly. “Glad to hear it.”

Sometime during this whole fiasco of a conversation, Sagebegan to approach the table. They tap Jonathan on the arm. “Can we sit?” theyask. “I’m starving, I want to order.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I’ll just be a moment. You can go sit, I’llfind you when I’m through here.”

They nod and disappear to another part of the restaurant.

“Well,” Jonathan says, indicating that this interaction is atan end. “It was… good to see you, I suppose.” He gives Harvey a slight nod,turning to leave. “Enjoy your ‘dinner’.”

Edward watches him go, weaving his way through the crowd inthe way one does when attempting to make a speedy exit without being touched bystrangers. He glowers after him, slumping in his seat. “I hate that ratbastard,” he mutters. “He’s so goddamn infuriating.”

“Yeah, yeah, go tell it to the rain,” Harvey says, returningto his burger.

“…What on earth does that mean?”

He shrugs. “Google it, genius.”