Bakugou Katsuki Grew Up Knowing He Was Needed For How Strong His Quirk Was—how Strong He Was.

𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 hated winter.

he'd always catch a cold and he hated having a cold even more than he hated winter.

when he found himself coughing and sneezing on a what would have been fun saturday afternoon, bakugou katsuki almost threw his thermometer against the wall.

he'd gripped it so hard his knuckles grew white, "stupid thing dosen't know what it's talking about anyway" he'd muttered, walking away.

precisely three hours later, bakugou lay in bed, watching the clock tick slowly, the minute hand brushing past the 8:00 mark with a speed so slow he was afraid he'd grow mad.

bakugou shifted in his bed, annoyed and so very bored. his blanket was itchy and dug into his skin, not to mention his runny nose and sore throat.

bakugou groaned as a fresh wave of pounding took over his head.

he was about to pop another ibuprofen in his mouth when he realized the pounding was coming from his dorm room, not his head.

bakugou wanted to rip his hair out.

why can't people leave me alone for one goddamn day?

"what the hell do you want, extra?"

when he didn't hear a reply, bakugou's eyes flew open in anger as he stomped all the way to his dorm rooms door, yanking the handle open with such force it almost broke.

"what. the. HE-" he cut himself off when he realized who was standing at the door.

you. oh shit, you.

bakugou softened his glare, but he still narrowed his eyes, "what are you doing here?" he eyed the items nestled in your arms, "and what is that?"

you rolled your eyes, used to bakugou's stubbornness, "are you gonna let me in first?" you looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes narrowed.

"no" he huffed, but he moved aside nonetheless, his cheeks tinged with the slightest blush.

"that's what i thought," you said, a crooked grin hanging on your lips, as you pushed past him, throwing your scarf on his chair, your jacket on his table, and the items in your arms on his bed.

"go ahead and make yourself at home, it's not like i live here," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

you can make yourself at home for all i care.

you laughed, eyes twinkling with an emotion bakugou had yet to place, "you and your insatiable temper." shaking your head you picked up the can of soup you brought with you, dumping it's content in the nearest pan.

bakugou watched in curious silence from his bed, his eyes tracking your every move in his pint-sized kitchen.

why did you have such beautiful hair?

why did your eyes glow like the stars he often saw from his own bedroom?

why did his heart skip a beat every time he saw you?

"what are you even doing here," he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. why were you in his kitchen, cooking him a meal, when you barely even noticed him during class? it's not like he was perfect boyfriend material. he didn't have perfect blue eyes, or a dazzling smile. hell, he didn't even have a good personality.

so why were you of all people, worrying about bakugou?

bakugou fell back on his bed as he closed his eyes, rubbing a tired hand over his equally tired face.

god, even when i close my eyes all i see is y/n.

y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n-

bakugou's eyes flew open when he felt a gentle hand rest on his forehead. he scrambled up, confusion flickering across his features for a brief moment. he didn't even hear you walk all the way over here.

"you're burning up katsuki, you need to lie down." you raised an expectant eyebrow, shoving the bowl of soup you just made into his hands, "and drink some soup."

katsuki? KATSUKI??

bakugou rolled his eyes, as he shoved your hand away. "again, i'm fine, i don't need to lie down, i just need you to take your stupid soup and leave."

stupid, stupid, stupid! how could you be so goddam stupid? don't tell her to leave you idiot!

he closed his eyes waiting for your footsteps to fade away as you left, leaving him alone just like every other person ever did, but instead he heard a sigh and the thud of a soup container being put down.

bakugou's breath hitched as you carefully pushed him back, bringing his blanket up to his shoulders and wrapping him in it. "bakugou, you need to shut your idiotic mouth for one day and get some rest." you placed the bowl of soup by his bedside. "even the best heroes need rest, and I'm not leaving until the future number one hero recovers from his cold."

y/n called me a hero.

you waited a few minutes, watching as bakugou shifted around his bed, your less-itchy blanket covering him from head to toe.

after making sure he was comfortable, you turned around grabbing your coat, your phone clutched in your hand ready to leave, when bakugou spoke up.

"will you be here when i, uh, wake up?"

you stopped in your tracks, a smile growing on your face.

you turned around, as you placed your coat back on his desk, "that depends, will you listen to me and actually get some rest?"

bakugou stared at you, something swirling in his eyes, and then nodded, "there's leftovers in the fridge." his voice sounded gruff and foreign to his own ears, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't smiling under the mounds of blankets you dumped on him. he turned around, switching positions so you couldn't see him smile lighting up his face.

maybe, just maybe, he'd begin to like winter if it mean you'd fuss over him like this every time he caught a cold.

after all, bakugou would do anything for you.

even catch a cold.

i kinda hate this one ngl, its too un-proofread for me :(

[9:35pm]

masterlist

Thinking about you doing that one tiktok trend where the girl sets up the phone in front of the guy and tells him to listen to the lyrics of the bruno mars song.

You run up to Bakugou sitting on the couch and set up the phone in front of you to on the coffee table. He doesn’t make a move to get up, just watching as you fumble with the settings on whatever app you were on before turning to him with instruction.

“Okay just listen to the lyrics. Got it suki?” You say with your hands interlocked at your chest and a hopeful look on your eye. However he doesn’t respond, only grunting in affirmation and nodding his head at your phone for you to start. He watches you start the video before awkwardly standing slightly to the right in front of him.

“fellas grab your ladies if your ladies fine”

Without hesitation he grabs your arm only for you to stumble back onto his lap. You’re looking completely shocked at him somehow not knowing he would do that (smh my head) and he is just smirrrkking at youuuuu. When you watch it back omg you will hide your face in his chest while he just laughs because while yes he should be annoyed at hearing the sound a million times he is also flattered you are so flustered by his action.

TAGS 🏷:

@mybabekatsuki @trafalgar-lau

　　engrave this process into your mind & move on.

　i , assume. this is the whole thing. everything else is decoration. assume what you want is already real. not coming, not pending, not "in progress." real. here. done. the moment you assume it, it exists. there is no gap between thought and reality.

　ii , persist. this is where most people trip. they assume, then check the mirror every five minutes, looking for signs, looking for proof. but a mirror reflects what you believe to be true, not what you’re begging to see. you persist in the assumption. not because you’re forcing anything, but because you understand this is how reality works. you wouldn’t assume gravity is real, then spend the rest of the day doubting it. same rules apply.

　iii , let it unfold. no micromanaging. no checking the tracking number. no pacing back and forth wondering if you did it right. assumption is not about force. it is not about effort. it is not a request. assume, persist, and let reality adjust. it always does. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　. . . but what then? 　iv , live it. you don’t wait for confirmation to breathe. you don’t wait for a written notice that the sky is still in place. stop waiting. start being. reality does not need you to second-guess it. it already knows what to do. assume, persist, and step into it.

imagine spending your whole childhood feeling like nothing, never cherish for being good or trying/doing your best. And then when you grow up you find someone who actually likes you, sees you as family, never said a mean thing about your disfigured face, and would trade his life for your happines...

...only for him to be murder in cold blood by a person who proudly stand besides the man who caused your life to be a living hell.

And you can't show your grief for him, because, again, your life is a living hell.

And now all you want to do is to honour him alongside a person who loved him...

...as much as you did.

Texting MHA boys “I love you” for the first time

a/n: i’m posting this from my phone so it looks a bit different from my other post 😭

Also i change the battery percentage so your welcome :)

Characters: Denki, Shoto, Tamaki , Bakugo & Izuku

All rights reserved © 2022 fairly-pink. Please do not repost, modify or claim as yours. Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated!

lord 🧎‍♀️

@softiefeli , let me feed you. Say "Ahh"

Uppies!

b.katsuki / f.reader

genre: domestic, husband!bakugou, wife!y/n

warning(s): mizusu is babie, she throws a lil tantrum- but nothing daddy can't fix

w.count: 3k

synopsis: katsuki comes home early to relieve the babysitter hired to take care of mizusu. you come back home to your daughter sitting on her father's hip and listening to kiddy music with dinner on the stove. katsuki realizes just how warm his two girls make him.

-x-x-x-

a/n: ive been stressed and i think bringing mizusu, the beloved baku-child, back will make me feel better. bc she's precious. she's still a lil bab in this one :D

-x-x-x-

It was just after noon when Katsuki's mobile started to violently ring in his pocket. It was a special ringtone he set to be horrendously obnoxious so it'd gain his attention every time it went off. He knew who was calling before he could even dig the device out of his pocket because of it. He only briefly looked at the caller ID every time out of pure habit.

-Zusu's Sitter-

He only barely clicked his tongue, half expecting this phone call at some point today. He swipes his thumb across the screen then presses the phone to his ear.

"Tapping out, kid?" He holds no teasing or malicious tone, it was more like a statement he was finalizing before the person on the other end spoke.

Katsuki and yourself had hired a babysitter for the days you and he both had to work and couldn't easily get out of it or swap out between morning and afternoon shifts. You had hired some teenager who was looking for experience in childcare as well as make a quick buck during breaks between terms. However, this morning when they showed up after you had already left for you, they didn't look the best.

They had reassured Katsuki that they could work and that they were just experiencing a small head cold, maybe even something as unremarkable as allergies. Though, the parent in him kicked in and made the teen promise to call him if their fever spikes up. Both for the teenagers sake and for the fact he didn't want his little one-year-old daughter catching a fever either.

On top of that, he gave them specific instructions to call him instead of you.

Compared to him, you've been practically pulling your hair out trying to adjust back into your work life. Even though your maternity had been up for a while, you had been doing exclusively desk and paper work for your agency- still a bit too paranoid about going back into the field now that you were out of practice. You had only recently put that hero suit of yours back on and started back on daily patrols in different city limits and sectors.

He didn't want you rushing home in a frenzy because your daughters babysitter was sick. Katsuki could just walk out of his agency, saying his daughter's sitter was out of commission and he wouldn't even be slapped on the wrist the next day.

"I'm very sorry, sir!" The teen practically cries into the line. "I really thought I could go all day, but my fever jumped out of no where and I don't want Mizusu getting sick because of me."

Katsuki breathes out of his nose as he raises from his desk. He looks at the clock hanging on the wall that read 12:04, although if memory serves that clock was a bit slow.

"It's fine," he huffs, but still not really annoyed. He grabs a sticky-note pad from the corner of his desk and starts scribbling on it as he speaks separately into the phone. "Go ahead and put Zusu in her play pen for now, but wash your damn hands before you touch her. Keep her there until I get home," he rips the top sticky-note off and flips it over to the hero who sat in front of him in their own little desk space. "Even if she starts fussing, don't take her out; she'll be fine."

"Of course. I'll keep my contact with her to an absolute minimum!"

"Good," the hero who read his note gave him a cheeky thumbs up and he rolls his eyes in return before he's kicking his gauntlets, that had already been discarded since their too bulky to wear at a desk, under his desk. They're hidden further under the wood when he pushes his chair forward to join them under the desktop with his foot. "I'll be there in 15."

He ends the call and is already in the changing room of the agency as as he starts peeling his hero suit off. Normally, cutting work short would annoy him. But whenever it's about you or Mizusu, he can't bring himself to grimace at the early self-dismissal.

-x-x-x-

The outside sounds of cars and general white, background noise all fades into nothing as the front door of Katsuki's home he shares with you and his little girl shut behind him. The jangling of his keys was the loudest noise he registered until he hear the small, whiney sounds of Mizusu's fussing further inside.

Katsuki chuckles to himself as he hangs the keys up on the keyring holder beside the door as he heels off his beat up, aged loafers and trots inside. The duffle on his shoulder is filled with his suit and belt, bouncing off his hip as he walked with his hand stuff in his joggers; a habit he's had since middle school he's never been able to break.

Rounding into the living room, he sees his blonde headed daughter in the middle of her playpen, a wall of semi-stable plastic walls to keep her out of trouble, but still a large enough play space for her overwhelming number of toys. On the couch- a decent distance from her- is the sitter, sitting on the cushions and trying to ease his child's tantrum from there.

A fruitless effort, but he gave an A for effort.

"Alright, Girlie," Katsuki speaks towards the fussing toddler while simultaneously announcing his arrival since the sitter obviously hadn't heard him come home at all. "That's enough." And like magic, the fussing died down to a rather pathetic sounding whine. "You ain't fooling anyone with that fake fit," he pulls the duffle strap over his head and off his shoulder to flop onto the living room floor by the couch. The teen sitter stands as he approaches, although a bit unstable on their feet; from the fever he assumes. "You're free to go," he tells them, "need me to call a cab?"

"No sir," they decline politely. "I can make it home just fine." They quickly leave the house, not wanting to raise the possibility of anyone else getting sick- no matter how slim the chance. Katsuki stood at the edge of Mizusu's playpen as she had rocked herself up from her bum to her feet, waddling towards her father before plopping herself back down.

He's quickly disassembling the plastic wall and creating an opening so if she gets back up again, she could waddle closer and reach his legs. Though, she does neither. He stands above her still as she stares up at him. It was like some silent, blonde stare off between father and daughter, but there was no winner or loser.

After what he assumed was approximately 15 seconds, she grew bored and lightly kicked her legs before raising her little arms, that still had their baby chub on them, up towards his towering form.

"Papa, uppies!" Her speech was still somewhere limited, but she knew how to demand being picked up. She was still just a little thing, barely able to understand that she can stomp and wave her arms around at the same time. So of course, her manners- or lack thereof- weren't the best. Although, she was a total sweetheart most of the time.

Katsuki almost rols his eyes at the thought of his mother telling him over and over again how lucky he was that Mizusu was an easy baby. Must've taken after you, rather than him in that department. He smirks at the thought of him always being a little terror back in his young youth.

"Papa!" Mizusu cries again, her little hands opening and closing in urgency. "Uppies!" Katsuki bends his knees, squatting down to get closer to the floor-planted toddler. HIs arms were outstretched, elbows resting on his bent knees.

"What do we say when we want something?"

The little girl dropped her hands before she teetered herself up onto her chubby feet again and waddled between his legs and pushing her hands against his tee clade chest.

"Uppies, please," she whines softly, like she was on the verge of tears. Crocodile tears to be certain. Mizusu was also at the age where she would fake cry to get what she wanted. Although, it never got her far. Both he and you could tell the difference between an attention-seeking cry and a real one.

Though, when his little girl was right in front of him like this, he couldn't help but see your qualities in her. He smiles as he brings his arms down from his knees and lowered his head down to kiss her little forehead. He swoops his arms around to her sides before she was ensnaring her fingers in his tee in preparation to be hoisted up.

He gently stands before he was slotting his arm under his rear, her legs on either side of his chest as she looks up at him. She giggles, finally happy she got what she wanted.

"Good girl," he told her. "Always say 'please' and 'thank you'. That's what mommy tells you to do."

"Thank you, papa!" She speaks far too loudly for being right in front of his face, regardless he smiles at her. She wraps her arms around his neck, resting her face against his shoulder and swinging her little legs behind him. Her heels bounce weakly off his hips, but it almost feels nice since he's always so sore or pensive due to work.

"You're welcome." He pats her back a few times before he's spinning on his heel. "Want a snack?"

"Yes, please!"

-x-x-x-

When you came home from work, it was just past five in the afternoon. Seeing Katsuki's car in the drive way, shoes in the entrance, and keys on the holder bewildered you. He was supposed to be home after you today, but he somehow managed to beat you. Maybe he just had nothing left to do at his agency and left early because he was bored, he's done that before.

The faint sounds of music become clearer the further inside you march and before long, you follow the noise into the kitchen. You peek around the corner to see Katsuki supporting Mizusu on one of his jutted out hips. His other hand was stirring something boiling with plums of steam rolling out of a pot on the stove. You couldn't help noticing how far he held Mizusu away from the stove, even turning his chest away so she was as far as possible.

Her hands were above her, one lost within Katsuki's hair the other in the waving towards the fan above the stove you could hear whirring just under the sounds of the music playing from Katsuki's phone.

It was Mizusu's favorite song as of the moment that was playing through the phone speakers. Her small legs bounce in Katsuki's hold and her little heels kicked into his back and stomach, but he acted as if they didn't effect him- and they probably didn't.

When the song ends, she's cheering almost immediately.

"Papa, play again!"

"It'll play again in a second, be patient."

"Am patent!"

When the song picks up again, you suppress a laugh of your at the excited wiggling your daughter kicks up in her father's arm. You would never tell him that you saw him start to lightly bounce on his heels to the familiar rhythm of the children song that probably haunts his dreams.

Your brought out of your little dreamscape by a shrill "Mama!". Your daughter giving you away. Katsuki turns and sends a small glare at you; he would never admit that there was a flush on his cheeks even if you pointed it out to him. You approach the duo and Mizusu was adamant in her new goal of getting out of her father's hold and into yours.

You easily take her, letting Katsuki's arm fall to his side as he set the pot he was stirring down to a simmer and placed a lid over it. He turned around fully to see you nuzzling against against Mizusu's cheeks, making her laugh and weakly push against you to cease your ticklish actions.

His chest felt warm watching you both. Once she 'escapes' your nuzzling rampage, she throws her head down and buries her face into your neck where you then turn your attention to your husband while rubbing her back.

"How'd you manage to get home before me?" You ask and only receive an eyeroll back.

"Wow, welcome home. I missed you today too, babe." You send his eyeroll back to him.

"Hello, Katsuki," you greet before he's kissing your cheek.

"To answer your question, I came home around noon." You gape at him. "Sitter got sick, so I left the agency early." You bounce Mizusu on your chest while he explains.

"Why didn't they tell me? I would've stayed home today."

"They thought they could handle it, but I told them to call me if they couldn't. To their credit, they lasted longer than I thought."

"Katsuki," your tone slightly on the stern side made his shoulder slack.

"I can handle, Zusu. You've been busy gettin' back into the swing of things. You don't need to worry every second of everyday," he tells you while his hands comes up to the small of your back, using his thumbs to rub lightly along your spine. You know he's right, but it's not like you can just turn your brain off. He pushing his lips against your temple before his hand slides down to lightly tap your ass. "Go put, Girlie in her highchair. Our food's done and I'll grab something for her to eat too."

You nod at him, a bit frustrated with yourself, but you knew he was coming from a good place. You take a breath before stretching that smile back on your lips and bringing your daughter away from your neck to look at you.

"You ready for dinner, Zusu?" Her eyes light up. "It's papa's food tonight!" You spin around, as Katsuki shuts the music playing from his phone off, inwardly thanking every god above because the sound of his daughters favorite kiddy song was grating on his very soul.

"Papa's food!" She cheers in repetition. Katsuki watched as Mizusu easily let you settle her into her chair and latch her in before sliding the plastic tray in front of her.

He continues to watch as you walk to the fridge to grab her something to drink- finding the premade bottle of deluded juice Katsuki had set in there earlier to chill- and set it within her grasp. She almost downs all of it before you tell her to not gulp it all because after that juice is empty she's getting water- which she dislikes because it's 'icky'.

And still he watches as you all eat together at the table and talk, even Mizusu as she chimes in with random sounds. Words she can barely say yet, and indecipherable babbles you always nod and agree with that keep her entertained.

"Katsuki?" You call as you reenter the kitchen after setting Mizusu in the playpen where she stares focused on the late night show she always gets to watch before a bath and bed. He hums as he continues to wash the dishes. You come up beside him and he smiles at the small action of your hand coming to rest on his back. "You alright? You've been sorta quiet. I can take Mizusu's next day so you can rest if your tired."

"That's not it, I ain't tired," he tells you as he sets a dish in the opposite side of the sink as it waits to be rinsed of soap suds with the rest of them. "Am I not allowed to be quiet sometimes?" He chides and you scoff at him, pinching against his spine that he just chuckles at.

"I'm just checking on you, hard-head."

"I ain't no hard-head."

"Yeah, tell it to the judge."

"And who's that?"

"Me and Mizusu."

"That would be 'judges', babe; plural."

"Oh shut up," you snort as you start taking the still sud-covered dishes before rinsing them and putting them in the dish strainer. The rest of the chore is finished in a blanket of quiet, ears open for any sound of Mizusu possibly causing mischief just beyond the kitchen.

As you wipe your hands of any remaining water that tries to travel down your arm and off your elbow, Katsuki comes up behind you. Settling his arms on your hips, he rests his forehead on your shoulder and you lean back into him.

"You alright?" You ask him again, much more softly this time and he just lightly hums. It's a lighthearted sound, the sound he makes when he's still too embarrassed to say aloud that he's happy. And he is. He's so happy it hurts and he just wants to soak in it all. In you, in his little Mizusu, in this house.

"I love you... like a god damn lot." You bring your hand up to push his head against the side of yours, cheek pushing against his skull. You take in the lingering scent of last nights shampoo and briefly wonder how his shampoo stays fragrant for so long- or maybe it's just his natural scent. Regardless, it's nice.

"I love you too. Like way more." He scoffs against you.

"Impossible."

"Papa!" Mizusu calls from the living room. He actually laughs lightly against your shoulder, hot air micro-dampening your shirt sleeve and warming the skin beneath before he's kissing it lightly and detaching himself from you.

"Duty calls 'papa'," you tease. He grabs you by sticking his index finger between the fabric of your bottoms and your skin. Yanking you lightly against him, he was urging you to follow him back to the living room with his lips quirked up. His smile was mischievous enough to show his gums, yet he couldn't hide the tenderness in it either.

"You're not free of duty either, 'mama'."

-x-x-x-

Dabi in “One's Justice”

Anime vs. Manga