#but shes still largely considered a teen unless they update her character

[frenchphobic]

honestly like if arcane said yeah ekkos 18 like that really puts another strike in the canon status of arcane bc we already had a fair amount of retcons to say viktor jayces and singed’s stories and we’re not even getting into camille’s story which muddled the timeline enough

[winterisakiller]

Get Better - Chapter Eight

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 8/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between. Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do. This story will update on Thursdays.

Tag list:@tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77 @nonsensicalobsessions @theheartofpenelope @blacksuitofdoom @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @wolfsmom1 @just-the-hiddles @theoneanna @hiddlescastle @echantedbytwh

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER EIGHT

 “Large English Breakfast with Almond milk and a double latte macchiato.”

 Tom smiled brightly at the barista and grabbed the two steaming mugs from the counter. He weaved his way through several tables towards the back of the small café. The store front was busy enough for a Monday morning; a stream of tired and warmly attired commuters parading in and out in search of much needed caffeine. But sitting in the back of the shop, tucked away by a small working fireplace, guaranteed they would be left more or less alone.

 “Alright, one tea.” He placed the white ceramic mug in front of Ben and settled into the cushioned chair opposite, placing his own steaming mug down on the dark wood table. “And my own spot of heaven.”

 Ben chuckled, blowing gently on the steaming tea before him. “I see the caffeine addiction is still running strong.”

 “Stronger than ever.” Tom laughed, picking up his gently steaming mug and taking a careful sip. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the warmth and the rush of caffeine as the smooth and bitter drink hit his tongue. Bliss. He placed the mug down, resting his folded hands on the table. Ben stifled a yawn, rubbing his free hand over his face. Tom took the opportunity to study his friend; taking in his stooped posture, heavy-lidded eyes, and the tension in his shoulders.

 He hadn’t talked with Ben much in the past few weeks and hadn’t seen him in longer; between rehearsals and the birth of Ben and Sophie’s youngest, a boy, neither man had been much up for socializing. Tom had called the afternoon before to check in on Ben (and his newly expanded family) and had been not entirely surprised when Ben had jumped at the chance to get out of the house. “I don’t care when or where, but please take me away.” It had taken all he had not to chuckle at the desperation in Ben’s tone and plans were quickly set for a meeting at a café halfway between their two homes the following morning. “Thank you,” Ben had all but implored before the call had ended. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

 Tom picked up his mug and took another sip of his macchiato. “How are things with Sophie and the kids?”

 A tired but warm smile spread across Ben’s face. “Good…Exhausting, but good.” He took another sip of his tea, his eyes closing briefly, before placing the mug back onto the table top. “Sleep is a fond but distant memory.”

 “I can only imagine,” Tom laughed, with an understanding nod. He ran his finger up and down the side of his mug. “And how are the boys adjusting?”

 “Kit’s been a bit moody but seems to be settling in. He does however look at Sophie and me from time to time as if we’ve betrayed him in the worst way.” He chuckled softly, taking another sip of his tea. “But Hal seems fine for the most part. He’s been a bit fussy when Sophie can’t hold him but he overall seems to be handling it much better than either of us thought.”

 “And the littlest one?”

 “He’s been giving us a run for our money. Fussier than either of the other two unless he’s being held.” Ben laughed in earnest. He was drained, that much was abundantly clear, but he happy, albeit exhausted, pride that shone in Ben’s eyes spoke volumes. “So inevitably he spends most of his time in either mine or Sophie’s arms. Though he seems to be taking to the self-rocker Sophie’s mum sent up after Hal was born. Needless to say, we’re hoping it sticks for more than a week or so. I don’t think I can stand watching Hal cry because we aren’t able to hold him too.” Ben laughed again and took another sip of his tea.

 “I’m thrilled for you mate, both of you.” Tom took another sip of his macchiato. “Though,” he started again with a raise of his eyebrow, “I can readily admit I don’t begrudge you the lack of sleep.”

 Ben laughed and shook his head, pointing a finger at Tom with a knowing look. “It’ll be your time soon enough, mark my words.”

 Tom shrugged and shook his head with a soft sigh. There was no sense in trying to argue either way with Ben; he’d tried so many times and it was frankly exhausting. The best course of action, it seemed, was simply to let it be. He picked up his mug once more and took another long sip.

 After several minutes silence, Ben tapped his fingers idly on the tabletop and asked. “How is the show going?”

 Tom’s face lit at the question, a full smile spreading quickly across his features. “Bloody wonderful.”

 “Wonderful, eh?” Ben rested his elbows on the table and leaned his chin against his opened palms. “Do tell.”

 Laughing, Tom rambled through details about the play and the people he worked with. The ridiculous way Charlie had taken to try to make him laugh during a serious scene (he hadn’t cracked yet but Tom could admit it was coming) and the pranks he and Zawe had taken to pulling on both each other and, in turn, on Charlie. He talked about Cath and the way she made him laugh, shared silly anecdotes they’d discussed, talked about how she remembered how he liked his coffee after one run in at the coffee shop near the theatre. He smiled, rubbing his finger along the rim of the mug, as he remembered the way her face lit up when she laughed at a stupid joke he’d shared with her the evening before.

 In the week that had passed since their impromptu coffee meeting (he refused to let himself think of it as a date), he and Cath had taken to trading coffee runs and talking. She’d asked fondly after Bobby; it appeared the spaniel (the flirting menace) had left quite an impression and he’d found himself contemplating asking her to join them on one of their morning runs. The only thing stopping him (he told himself fiercely) had been the look of disgusted horror she’d worn when he’d mentioned running. “You’re telling me you do that for fun. Insanity. Complete and utter insanity.”

 Ben’s voice broke through the memory. He glanced across the table to find his friend shooting him a sly look. “This Cath sounds like quite the woman, to have captured your attention so singularly.”

 Tom blinked, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Ben, she’s just a friend.”

 He watched as Ben’s eyebrows rose comically. “And I’m a tea pot.”

 “And aren’t you a lovely one?”

 “Thomas, I know you. I know the way you get when you are interested in someone.” He raised an eyebrow at his friend. “And, my dear fellow, you are definitely interested in this one.” He paused for a sip of his tea. “Out of all the people you’ve worked with on this show, she is the one you’ve talked about the most.” He quirked an eyebrow once again.

 “She is a friend,” Tom insisted, pausing to take another deep sip of his coffee. “Or at least someone I could consider one, in time…”

 “And someone you find attractive.”

 Tom grunted under his breath. “That has nothing to do with anything.”

 “But you don’t deny it?” Ben countered with a grin.

 An exasperated sigh was his only reply for a long while. “Fine, yes she is attractive and I’m not blind to that. But it’s not the best idea.”

 “Why ever not?” Ben threw back. “You like her, no one is saying you’ve got to marry her this instant.” Tom narrowed his eyes. Ben simply ignored him and carried on. “I’m just saying don’t lie to yourself. You like her and from what I’ve gathered she doesn’t think you’re a complete waste of a man.”

 Tom narrowed his eyes further. Ben burst out into a deep laugh at that which only served to deepen his friend’s already scathing glare.

 “Oh poppet, fix your face. People will think we’ve had a falling out.” Tom fought the smirk that threatened to spread across his face. And lost. Ben grinned cheekily. “I’m just saying why not give it a shot? What do you have to lose?”

 “My track record with these things is…less than stellar. I don’t want to fuck things up by just jumping in. She’s a good person…She deserves better.”

 “That is utter bullshit.” Ben snapped, starling Tom with his ferocity. “Okay yes, you’ve made some spectacularly unfortunate decisions in the past but the fact that you’re pausing to think about them speaks a great deal towards just how much you’ve grown and to just how serious you are about this woman.” Ben reached out and placed a hand on Tom’s arm, squeezing it in reassurance and in understanding. “You don’t have to jump into anything. Just talk with her. Get to know her, be her friend. And see if this…If she is ultimately worth taking a risk for.” He offered Tom a warm smile. “The only thing you have to lose is this…” Ben waved his hand before him. “Fear that’s still holding you back.”

                                                          —

 Tom shook his head, pausing to tie his laces, the conversation from earlier replaying itself once more in his mind. His mid-morning run with Bobby had taken nearly an extra half hour as he thought over everything Ben had said to him and tried to figure out just what he was going to do about it. Bobby had been utterly delighted with the change and had taken full advantage; sniffing new territory, marking it as his, and finding even more wildlife to chase.

 It was still a relatively cool day, though warmer for mid-March, and he found most of the park and surrounding streets were dotted with people, but not as crowded as he would have expected for the time of day. He’d been stopped a handful of times, a few young women and a little boy who pointed at him crying out “It’s Loki, daddy!” as he pulled on his father’s hand. Tom had done his best to be friendly and open with each and every one of them. He’d refused pictures but had signed the receipts and other bits of paper they’d handed him. Thankfully, he’d managed to get away before a bigger crowd had a chance to form.

 Not a damned thing was any clearer though when he climbed his front steps and mechanically unlocked and opened his front door. Bobby shuffled around contentedly as Tom unclipped his lead and hung it on the hall tree next to his jacket. He toed off his trainers and jogged up the stairs to shower. He was hot, sweaty, and tired, but still utterly confused. He hated it, hated how indecisive he was being. Annoyed, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into the laundry basket by the bathroom door. His shorts, leggings, and socks were next. As he tossed them into the basket as well, he let out a resigned groan, knowing he couldn’t put off a load of washing for much longer. He could send them to a laundry service, it would certainly make his life infinitely easier if he did, but doing simple things like his own washing or running to the shops on his own helped to keep him feeling grounded. And despite everything, that was something he still desperately needed.

 The bathroom light flickered to life as Tom padded his way towards the walk in shower and fiddled with the knobs until he’d gotten the water temperature just so. He all but sighed in bliss as he stepped into the steaming water, letting it soothe his aching muscles and warm him from the chill of the late morning. He soaped and shampooed with a delightful lethargy, not quite wanting to give up the peace and warmth. But the day would carry on without him whether he was ready for it or not. Rinsing thoroughly, Tom shut off the water and rubbed his face with his hands. He reached for the towel hanging on the rack beside the shower and made quick work of wiping his face and rubbing his hair before wrapping the towel efficiently around his waist.

 He found Bobby curled contentedly at the center of his made bed. Tom knew he should scold the spaniel and move him, but couldn’t find it in his heart to do so. Bobby rolled onto his back, mouth hanging open and tongue lulling to one side and barked once at Tom.

 “You are trouble,” Tom laughed, making his way towards his wardrobe and pulling out jeans, a jumper, socks, and boxers. Laying the gathered clothing on the edge of the bed, Tom quickly dried himself and dressed. It was a late day today and he technically didn’t have to be at the theatre until around five. That gave him plenty of time to putter around before he needed to consider heading out.

 As he rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, the familiar ring of his mobile echoed from the table near the front door. Tom darted forward, managing to grab it and swipe to answer without dropping either the mobile or himself.

 “Hello?”

 “Afternoon, brother mine.” He could hear the amusement in his younger sister’s voice.

 Tom let out a soft laugh. “What do you want Em?”

 “Want something? Me? I’m hurt, Tommy. So hurt.”

 “Funny,” he quipped, heading into the living room. He plopped himself onto the couch, propping his feet up on the edge of the coffee table. He hit the speaker button and dropped his mobile on the couch beside him. Bobby padded in from the hallway and jumped up beside Tom on the couch, resting his head on his master’s crossed legs.

 “And don’t you ever forget it,” Emma chuckled. “Seriously though, you know Jack and I are planning to come see the show tonight.”

 “Yes…” A sense of foreboding rushed through him. He reached out and absently stroked Bobby’s ear.

 “If you are alright with it, would you mind me swinging by with Allie for a bit? Mum’s coming up tonight to mind her, but I have a few errands I need to run…”

 “And they’d be easier sans toddler?” Tom finished, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

 “I know it’s horribly last minute but I am utterly desperate.”

 Tom let out a quiet sigh. “What time do you think you’ll be back? Or is Mum coming here?”

 “Um, I should be back by half two…quarter after at the latest…” Tom heard shuffling in the background, followed by a car door shutting. “Come on baby.” Allie’s high pitched giggle filtered through the phone’s speaker. A few moments later his front gate buzzed.

 Tom groaned. “Please tell me you’ve not done what I think you’ve done.” The gate buzzed again and Bobby barked elatedly, jumped off the couch and made a mad dash towards the front door. “Very cute, Em.” He pushed himself up to his feet and wandered towards the panel by the door. He didn’t bother checking the monitor before buzzing Emma and Allie in. Bobby continued to bounce excitedly by his feet.

 A knock sounded on the door a few moments later. He made quick work of the locks and pulled the door open, using his back leg to keep Bobby from darting out. Emma smiled brightly at him, her daughter clutched in her arms.

 “Uncle Tommy!”

 Tom’s face brightened and he reached out to take the small girl from her mother. “Hello princess. Are you ready to have fun?” She nodded enthusiastically, clapping her hands together.

 A small, warm smile spread across Emma’s face as she watched the sight before her for several moments before seeming to remember herself. “Alright, darling,” she started, clapping her hands together. “Be good for your uncle. Mummy will be back in a few hours.” She kissed Allie on the cheek then smiled brightly at her brother. “Thanks, Tom. You’re the best.”

 He raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger of his free hand at Emma. “You’d do well to remember that.”

 Emma snorted. “Funny.” A horn sounded from the street. Emma leaned over and kissed Allie once more before running down the walk and towards the gate. “See you in a bit.”

 Tom pushed the door closed with his hip and placed his squirming niece down so that he could relock the door. He then made quick work of removing her pink coat as she squirmed and hanging in on the hall tree beside his own. Bobby, excited by the arrival of a new friend, barked once and began to lick Allie’s face causing the little girl to squeal in delight and reaching out to pat the dog in return. Tom found himself smiling at the sight and lowered himself to the floor beside them. There was something so simple and so beautiful about the innocence in which they interacted and he was taken by it so completely.

 He sat on the floor in his front hall beside his dog and his niece for what felt like ages before he broke the contented silence. “So my darling, what would you like to do?”

 Allie tore her attention away from Bobby with great reluctance and faced her uncle. She scrunched her face in thought, sandy brows nearly reaching her the coppery curls that brushed her forehead. “Park,” she finally answered with a decisive nod of her head.

 Tom laughed and nodded. “Park it is.” He let out a soft groan as he pushed himself to his feet and Allie giggled at his efforts. “Laugh now, little girl, but someday you will understand all too well.”

 “Uncle Tommy silly.”

 “Yes,” he answered with a chuckle. “Yes, I am.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs and grabbed Bobby’s lead from the hall tree. Bobby barked twice then sat still, his tail a blur against the hardwood floor. “Two walkies in less than two hours. You, my lad, are spoiled,” he joked as he clipped the lead and harness around the spaniel.

 Patting his back pocket to make sure he had wallet, phone, and keys, Tom grabbed his coat, shrugging it on before helping Allie into her own. Both dog and child bounced excitedly by his feet and Tom couldn’t help the smile which spread across his face. Taking Allie firmly in one hand and Bobby’s lead in the other, the trio made their way from the house and out into the bright early afternoon light.

Next Chapter

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Writing Commission - A Gift of Sunshine - Chapter 5

Merry (late) Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Blessed Yule! My apologies for such a delay in the update today, but here we are at last! As apology and a gift, take a double chapter update!

Also, a few of you expressed concern over where the story is going considering there's so many chapters left, and, well... let's just say that good things will come in the end. :)

                                                          ⁂

Summary: It is the worst day of fifteen-year-old Aizawa Shouta’s life when he trudges home after a failed entrance test to U.A. – the school made for heroes. His worst day abruptly turns strange, however, when he gets home to find a beautiful sword on his bed with a scroll attached that is addressed from his grandfather.

It turns out that his entire family was descended from a samurai (unsurprising considering he lived in Japan) and the sword was meant to help him become a hero. Shouta hadn’t been expecting the sword to talk, however, and he especially hadn’t expected the sword to have a voice as warm as sunshine itself.

It’s a long journey to become a hero like he wants, but Shouta has a feeling that he and Hizashi are going to do just fine.

                                                        ⁂

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia    

Relationship: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count (Total): 35,935  

Transaction Amount: $250 (USD)

                                                      ⁂

             Check out my writing commission information here!                    Pledge to my Patreon to get exclusive content!

                      Read and follow the story on AO3!

                                                     ⁂

                    <<Previous Chapter>> <<Next Chapter>>

                                            Chapter Five

                                                    ⁂

Staring down at the mounds of disorganized paperwork in his lap, Shouta idly bit down on his pen and wondered, if he bit hard enough to break the pen and swallow some of the ink, if that would be enough to relieve him of having to deal with the stress of what would surely be his death. Forget villains and falling buildings, it would be the paperwork that would kill him in his career as a pro-hero. 

“My, my, what a terrifying scowl, Eraserhead!” Twitching at the words that might as well have been purred out, Shouta glanced up to see ‘Midnight’ and ‘Present Mic’ cheerfully waving at him from his doorway, Nemuri holding Hizashi’s sword in one hand and a bag of take-out in the other. He regretted the day he gave his friends keys to where he lived. “Aw, aren’t you happy to see us? See, see, we even brought you back dinner!”

Shouta managed to withhold his growl, instead turning back to his paperwork with a silent vow that he would burn it, his apartment, and everything inside to the ground if the police so much as lost a single piece of paper once he turned it in; hell, he’d burn the police station down, too. Plus Ultra, and all. 

“Shouta, please tell me you’ve actually slept instead of just doing paperwork,” Nemuri was striding over with a very no-nonsense Tensei attitude, dropping Hizashi’s sword into his lap before starting to open and spread out the multiple containers of food that was far too much for two people. “You’re supposed to be resting or else that broken leg of yours is never going to heal!”

“I don’t need rest. I need to get this work done,” Shouta grunted, adjusting the sword to where he was still free to do his paperwork even as he felt Hizashi’s arms curl around his shoulders, a single glance up showing the man smiling down at him. 

Hizashi had ‘changed’ into simple clothing that looked soft and easy to move in and his hair, as well, was down out of its ‘hero style’ and lightly pulled out of his face, glasses low on the bridge of his nose; which was still ridiculous. Why did a spirit need glasses? Right. Shouta was getting distracted. He made sure to refocus by glaring at Hizashi with a muttered, “You don’t even start.”

“Aw, what’s wrong, Starlight?” Instead of Nemuri’s over-the-top and sexual tone that coated her purred out words, Hizashi’s was always so much softer and more genuine, the words near whispered against his cheek. The pressure was never anything that could be mistaken as another person touching him, but it was never devoid of warmth, either. It was also just… Hizashi. “Are you still upset Nem and I had to take over?”

“According to what the police are constantly telling me, you don’t legally exist,” Shouta complained, relaxing into Hizashi’s soft hugs and kisses as Nemuri fluffed his pillows, which had been fine, before starting to shove food at him. “I have a broken leg and an appointment with a healer’s quirk tomorrow. Stop fussing.” 

“I am not fussing,” Nemuri frowned, the lie said as if she truly believed it. “Is that why you’re so wound up? Just say you teamed up with me and Present Mic for this one and be done with it!” 

“You do know that a lot of heroes don’t know if ‘Present Mic’ is even real or not, don’t you?” Shouta felt a swat to his side that made him flinch before he was glaring at Hizashi again, who gestured for him to eat. “You need to stop possessing other pros when they show up on a crime scene.”

“Good luck with that,” Nemuri muttered ‘quietly,’ Shouta throwing her a glare of her own as the woman grabbed her own food and squirmed around on the couch to be able to both touch the sword and not touch his broken leg.

Hizashi, meanwhile, was whining again, “What? No! Shouta, baby, please, it’s not my fault that all of our co-workers are essentially idiots and can’t be bothered to listen to a decent plan without ego getting in the way.” While Nemuri snorted hard enough that it no doubt had hurt, Shouta hid his own laughter with a couple bites of food. “Technically, I do legally exist since I was born in this country. It was just, uh… a long time ago.” 

“Unless you can find a birth or death certificate, I don’t think telling them that will help,” Shouta sighed, unable to help the smile he could feel forming when Hizashi pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. “How was the raid? I assume it went fine since neither of you are complaining about dying.” 

Then again, all of Shouta’s friends were idiots. Tensei had broken an arm and continued to fight for a full two hours before he had even noticed what had happened - the same Tensei who had cried when getting a papercut a few weeks back, as Shouta recalled. All in all, he wouldn’t be surprised if his idiots were actively dying while acting like everything was fine. 

Hizashi, at least, knew him too well as always, already giving a quiet laugh even as he answered. “We’re fine, Shou-chan. Besides, you know I’d forcibly control Nem and take her to the hospital if I thought she needed it.” 

“Hey! You said you’d never possess me without consent unless it was an emergency,” Nemuri accused, dramatic ‘heartbroken’ tone to her words that sounded fake as could be. It was enough to make Hizashi flounder, though, Shouta doing nothing beyond watching his boyfriend make excuses and reassure an ‘inconsolable’ Nemuri. He honestly wasn’t sure if Hizashi bought it, or if he had too much fun playing along to the drama; either one was believable with these two. 

All their dramatics gave Shouta time to focus back on his paperwork, though, managing to finish off another sheet along with another few bites of food as he thought over the problem that was teaming up with ‘Present Mic.’ 

While Hizashi technically had a hero license due to Nezu’s meddling and some very bemused scorers for the actual test they had taken, they were still left with the problem that Present Mic wasn’t ‘real’ to most people. Hizashi’s license kept them from being declared villains-in-the-making due to all the possession that took place during their fights, but, to Shouta’s knowledge, all the police stations in over a dozen prefectures despised their teamwork and methods.  

Getting Hizashi registered as Present Mic had started as Shouta just wanting to make sure Hizashi was given the proper credit he was due, as the two of them really did work as a duo in their careers now, but it had ended up as one large headache; especially with the gaggle of pro-hero children who seemed to think that they were being mind controlled even after their ‘team ups.’ 

“If you keep scowling like that then eventually it’s gonna stick,” Hizashi teased, patting at Shouta’s cheek and laughing when Shouta swatted him off. “C’mon, it’s not that bad! Legally they can’t do shit to us, after all.” 

“Legally they can make my life a living nightmare with the paperwork they give me and then ‘lose,’” Shouta snorted, reaching for another container of food absently and starting in on that one as well, idly wondering if he should ask Nezu if there were any plans to turn the entire system digital once and for all. Then again, his work would probably just be deleted out of spite. “Maybe we should prove a point and burn one of the stations down.”

“You just need to smile through it, Shouta,” Nemuri sighed, as if she wasn’t rising in popularity and already had a devoted following for her hero image. “Oh! That reminds me! Your agency’s publicist contacted me earlier today!” 

“Megumi-san? Why does she have your number?” It wasn’t unheard of for publicists to have some heroes get in contact with others depending on patrol schedules and timing, but that was only if the heroes worked for the same agency. “Is something wrong?”

Nemuri grinned and Shouta felt mildly scared at the same moment Hizashi’s arms tightened around him. “She wanted me to remind you boys that you have an interview tomorrow.”

“Ah. I’m not going.” Shouta took another bite of food, chewing slowly and savoring Nemuri’s shocked and offended expression. Leave it to a media hero to be offended at the idea of avoiding them. “My leg is broken.” 

“That’s why Megumi-san contacted me to let me know that your interview was rescheduled to be after your appointment which, like you said earlier, will heal your leg up the rest of the way.” Humming to show he had heard, Shouta idly wondered if breaking another leg would be considered a sign of madness. “And, since I’m such a good best friend, I’ll even be escorting you from the hospital to the station!”

There was a little snicker from Hizashi and Shouta would have thrown the rest of his food in the spirit’s face if it wouldn’t just go through him and stain the carpet. As it was, Shouta made sure to pinch his side until he earned an unflattering yelp. “Aw, c’mon, Shou-chan! This is a great opportunity to present a better image for underground heroes - you won’t even be on television! It’s just for a magazine!” 

“What part of underground hero do you two still not get? I’m not supposed to be known at all, let alone out and doing interviews like some ranked hero who never learned that this job is about more than just a pretty smile.” His friends, horrible creatures that they were, didn’t even give his speech anything beyond an eyeroll. They could burn when Shouta set fire to the police station, he decided. “It’s a bad idea.”

“Just let Hizashi take over if you’re so worried about it,” Nemuri sighed, waving her chopsticks lazily as if that wasn’t the worst idea in the world. “He, at least, is good at dealing with the media.”

Shouta laughed at that, unable to help himself as he half-grinned at Nemuri, “Are you kidding? Half the time it’s him who’s pushing me to let loose on the media because they’re ‘trespassing on a crime scene.’”

“Well, that is true,” Nemuri admitted. “But he’s better at acting like he likes the media, unlike you, who does nothing whatsoever to hide his disdain.” Shouta hummed, finishing off the last bite of food as spitefully as he could manage. “Look, it’s just one short interview about life as an underground hero. You’ll be in and out in under an hour at most.” 

“It’s a good chance at getting underground heroes seen in a better light,” Hizashi pointed out, a hand running through Shouta’s hair in a gesture that almost had him melting. “I think it’ll be good.” 

Ah, well… If Hizashi wanted to do it then Shouta supposed that was that. “If you’re underground you shouldn’t be in any light,” Shouta complained one last time, knowing that the other two knew he had given in just by their grins. 

Still, an hour talking about underground heroes was something he could handle well enough. Really, Shouta was sure it wouldn’t be that bad. 

                                                            ⁂

Shouta, with as much hatred, annoyance, and sheer panic as he could muster, clearly and loudly thought the words, This is your fault. 

“If we wanna get technical here, it’d be our publicist’s fault,” Hizashi grumbled, sitting on the arm of the armchair Shouta had been forced into the moment he stepped in the room he had been directed to for his interview.

After everything had been explained, Shouta had expected a frazzled intern with too many things to do and too little time on their hands to bother asking too many questions. Instead his interview was being conducted by someone with over a decade of experience, eyes that felt like they were waiting for him to slip up, and a recording device that had been on since the moment he walked into the room. 

“You think we could get this chick to sign up for recon at the agency,” Hizashi half-mumbled to himself, Shouta taking small solstice in the feeling of Hizashi leaning against his side and arm and staying close by. “She’s fucking ruthless and I feel like half of ‘em would love her.”

The interviewer, Tanaka, was shuffling through what looked like a plan of attack in bullet point format after Shouta had vaguely explained the differences between acceptable risks and levels of violence and how it changed between ‘media’ heroes and those who worked underground. Tanaka had shown no expression and Shouta was half-wondering if he and his entire agency would be sued. 

“So, Aizawa-san, it’s said that you’re officially registered as part of a hero duo with the hero ‘Present Mic,’ but research shows that there’s no record of him beyond a registered hero license dated the same as yours. Care to elaborate?”

Deciding the answer ‘not really’ wouldn’t be sufficient, Shouta tried to relax as he gave a calm answer, “Present Mic and I went to school together at U.A. and formed a duo after we graduated. He’s a more private person than I am, so it’s unsurprising there’s not much information on him.” 

Hizashi, at least, found Shouta’s comment about him being ‘private’ as amusing as Shouta thought it was, laughing where Shouta wasn’t able to. “I’ll remember you said that so I can have you back me up next time Tensei yells at me for oversharing.” 

“And what of the rumors that your partnership is a romantic one and that you two have been together since your school days?” Tanaka remained completely serious and Shouta took a moment to force himself to stay blank and calm even as Hizashi sputtered beside him, Shouta wanting to do much the same. 

“May I ask as to where these rumors originated beyond any base speculation?” Because, yes, alright, every hero fan assumed that all hero duos were romantic at one point or another in their lives if they weren’t siblings, but for an interviewer to just come out and ask? Shouta wasn’t sure if anyone besides Tensei, Nemuri, and possibly Nezu even knew that he and Hizashi were together. Well, Shukuchi might have, but Shouta was sure his former mentor had done his best to pretend they hadn’t been together. 

“It’s been a matter of speculation for quite some time in the pro hero circles, especially those that surround underground heroes. I was wondering if you would be able to confirm any of these rumors or lay them to rest.” Hizashi was right. Tanaka was ruthless. 

“Tell her that you’re dating your sword. She might be freaked out enough to end the interview early so we can finally leave,” Hizashi snickered, Shouta doing his best to not glare at him or give in to the urge to pinch him. 

As it was, he took a moment to center himself before trying to appear as relaxed as possible, leaving his answer at a simple, “No.” 

“I see.” Ah, so no was the wrong answer. Good to know for the future, he supposed. “Continuing on with the subject, do you feel comfortable being in a relationship as a pro hero?” 

“Yes, I feel comfortable with the possibility of being in a relationship, and many other heroes will say the same. While as an underground hero I’m afforded more secrecy and protection, other heroes have been taught and learned how to separate their civilian life and their hero life in order to have normal, healthy           relationships.” 

Hizashi gave a snort of laughter, nudging at Shouta, “I’m sure Nezu will be proud to know his favorite student remembered all of his lectures by heart.” The urge to shove him off the chair was overwhelming. 

“Yet statistics have shown that relationships involving heroes often fail and last no longer than six months to a year, and these numbers only shrink when it comes to underground heroes and the secrecy involving their work. What do you think about this?” 

“Jesus,” Hizashi muttered, no doubt feeling the same disgust Shouta was. “It’s always about the fucking romance angle, isn’t it? Isn’t she supposed to be asking you about, you know, hero work?”

Shouta mumbled a near voiceless, “She’s supposed to.” before speaking normally. “I think that relationships require work and communication no matter the circumstances.” 

A gleam entered Tanaka’s eye and Shouta felt something like ice slide into his veins even as he made a note to yell at Megumi later. “So, you’re saying you condone lying to your partner as that’s what’s required of pro hero relationships.” 

“Shouta,” Hizashi half-sang, something sharp and dangerous in his tone as Shouta felt the man’s hand curl around his wrist. “Shouta, you should let me take over for a few minutes.” Shouta was half-tempted, but he was pretty sure yelling at an interviewer would be better than cutting her open with a sword. 

“In no capacity did I say that lying to one’s partner is required for a relationship in which one party is a pro hero. There are some things that can’t be shared such as case details, yes, but I doubt your partner needs to know about the drug ring you’re tracking in order to feel secure in the relationship.” 

“But at one point or another lying would simply have to come into play. You yourself mentioned in this interview that being an underground hero is dangerous work, and that there’s always the chance that those around you will be in some form of danger.” 

Shouta could feel Hizashi mentally pushing at him, desperately wanting to take over and say his own piece. Shouta calmly brushed the mental presence away, standing up at the same time before catching Tanaka’s gaze and not letting go. 

“As surprising as this might come to someone like you, a relationship can exist without the need for lies and secrecy, as both myself and my partner of five years can testify to. If that will be all, Tanaka-san, I have work to do.” 

Shouta was already out the door and slamming it shut behind him before he had to listen to that woman’s voice for any longer, anger carrying him all the way back to their apartment before Shouta was dropping onto the couch and scrubbing a hand down his face, along with a muttered, “Megumi is going to kill us for this.” 

There was no answering remark or comment and that realization alone had Shouta darting up, hand closing tight around the sheath of the sword as he quickly looked around for Hizashi who… was staring at him. Silently. 

Taking a moment to make sure neither of them were dying and Shouta hadn’t said something worthy of the silent treatment, he finally broke the silence with a quiet, “What’s wrong, Sunshine?” Because it was possible that after all of that Hizashi was even more upset than he was.

“No- No, no, it’s nothing bad, I just- I didn’t-” Hizashi floundered, somehow still soft and quiet even as another part of him seemed overwhelmed and manic. “I… I knew you cared I just didn’t know… I never thought you’d admit you cared to anyone who didn’t know, let alone a reporter. I mean, I’m- I’m not exactly, you know- It’s not like it counts.”

Hoping he was wrong about what Hizashi’s fumbling words could mean, Shouta stood up slowly and moved until he was in front of Hizashi, cutting off the man’s panicked pacing. “‘Zashi. I can’t answer any questions you have if you can’t tell me what those questions are. What doesn’t count?”

“Us! We don’t count!” Hizashi looked a few seconds away from crying and Shouta felt as if the air had been stolen from his lungs. “I’m nothing more or less than a ghost, Shouta, whatever happens between us is just- It’s nothing!”

Hizashi’s shout seemed to ring the air for what felt like an eternity, Shouta taking a slow, calm breath before he did something stupid like throw the sword out the closest window. He loved his boyfriend deeply, after all, even if he was the biggest idiot within all of Japan. 

“Alright, then.” Taking another step closer towards Hizashi, Shouta narrowed his eyes when he saw the man take a stumbling step back. That alone, more than anything else, spoke volumes. “Tell me, while looking me in the eye, that our relationship means nothing to you.” 

A flash and, like always, the manic and panicked energy seemed to leave Hizashi all at once, Shouta’s arms opening at once as Hizashi fell into them with a muffled sob that hurt more than anything else. It hurt because they had been together for years and Shouta still hadn’t seen just how unsure Hizashi was in what they were to each other. 

“You’ve been getting caught up in your head, Sunshine,” Shouta said softly, running a hand through Hizashi’s hair and unable to stop the soft joy and awe he felt as it slid through his fingers. So many years of being able to touch and he still wasn’t over it. “Why are you really so upset? Because I mentioned I had a partner?” 

Hizashi managed to cut off what sounded like another forming sob, instead replacing it with a choked off, “Yes.” Shouta felt Hizashi’s nails dig into him, frantic and terrified. “Of course I’m upset, Shouta, because you saying that to someone like her makes it real.” 

Pulling back after a bit of a struggle, Shouta cupped Hizashi’s cheek with his free hand at once, frowning at the tear stains and red-rimmed eyes and shuddering breaths. For as much as he claimed he was nothing more than a ghost, Hizashi was the most human out of all of them. “And? Why does that make you upset? I need you to explain it to me, Hizashi. Why-”

“Because that means it’s only going to hurt more when you’re gone.” The words had Shouta snapping his mouth shut, surprised due to the sheer fact that Hizashi rarely, if ever, talked about what would happen after Shouta was… gone. “I love you so much, Shouta, so much that most days it hurts. I’ve never felt like this before and I know that one day, no matter how far away, I’ll lose this feeling-”

“No.” For once, Shouta’s mouth moved first, logic the furthest thing from his mind. “That’s… No. That’s not how it’s going to work.” Shouta leaned their foreheads together gently, smiling even as he saw Hizashi’s confused expression. “That’s not what’s going to happen because no matter what I’ll never… I’ll never stop loving you.” Emotions were never Shouta’s strong suit, but for Hizashi… He could always be strong for Hizashi. “Will you ever stop loving me-?”

“Of course not!” The enraged squawk had Shouta bursting into laughter, unable to stop himself from leaning in to kiss Hizashi softly, tasting the reluctant smile more than anything else. 

“Then how are you going to lose this feeling?” Shouta asked softly, feeling embarrassment squirm around inside him as Hizashi’s grief faded for a soft awe that Shouta had only ever seen directed at him. “I’ll be gone one day, and it’s not always going to be easy, but for right now… I’m here. I’m here and I love you.” 

Hizashi gave another choked cry, Shouta feeling the helpless smile on his face as he looked at this man he was so ridiculously in love with. “Do you think that’ll be enough, Sunshine?” 

“What the hell, Shouta, you can’t just do that we’ve talked about this! You know what happens when you get like this! You get emotional and then I get emotional and-” It was impossible to stop his laughter at Hizashi’s complaints, Shouta finally letting him go with one last kiss before heading towards the bedroom.

“Come on, drama queen, let’s get some rest before our next patrol. If we’re lucky we have at least a week before Nemuri finds out what I said in that interview and comes after me.” Nemuri would probably try to make their relationship ‘public,’ nevermind how she would manage to do something like that. Shouta wouldn’t put it past the witch. 

“Excuse you, I am not- Your phone is buzzing.” Pausing to glance back, Shouta looked around before noticing his phone on the couch where it had no doubt fallen out of his pocket, buzzing with text message after text message. 

“So it is.” Shouta would deal with it after his nap. “Come on. Nap time.” There was a snort of laughter that Shouta graciously chose to ignore. 

“Oh! It’s Nem!” Of course it was the witch. She had probably felt Shouta thinking poorly of her. “She’s asking about the… interview…”

Hearing the trailing silence and feeling a jolt of emotion that was almost enough to knock him off his feet, Shouta was spinning around and getting ready for anything, gaze quickly finding Hizashi, who was standing next to the couch with Shouta’s phone in his hand. 

“Hizashi? What’s wrong? What happened?” It was possible Nemuri had been texting about an emergency, but she would typically call, in that case. The emotion had definitely come from Hizashi, but Shouta had no idea what it was about when Hizashi was doing nothing more than standing there and staring down at… at Shouta’s phone that he was holding. “Oh.” 

Shouta scratched at his cheek for a moment, staring at Hizashi holding a physical object which, in their hard-learned experience, should be impossible. Finally, after what felt like too long, Shouta nodded to himself. 

“Come to bed and take a nap with me and I’ll let you pretend to be me when you text her. We’ll see how long it takes her to realize it’s you.” Shouta was once again heading towards the bedroom, smiling as he heard Hizashi’s loud laughter following after him. All in all, Shouta supposed he wouldn’t yell at Megumi too badly.