Sero - Blog Posts

Breakdown

Sero hanta x fem reader

Summary: you’re stressed about school and it’s getting harder everyday to contain yourself, one day it breaks and without thinking you stumble over to your boyfriend sero’s house.

Warnings: pet names: js baby I think, slight panic attack, comfort, swearing, think that’s all

Enjoy!!

School was kicking your ass for sure.

Between balancing exam studies, training, and keeping up with your social life as well as your teacher Aizawa being his usual self and pushing you all to do your best.

The pressure was starting to get to your head, and you were 100% sure you were gonna break down very soon.

You could feel it bubbling in your chest.

Sero, your boyfriend noticed how strangely you had been acting but still understood you were probably under a lot of stress with the upcoming exams. To say that was an understatement though.

You were sat at home your mum was at work, trying to keep up with her schedule, while you were sat at the dinning table with multiple textbooks open in front of you.

You could feel yourself getting more and more frustrated by the minute, your vision becoming clouded with the tears you were trying so hard to keep back.

You couldn’t stop it anymore. You snapped and you just let it happened, you sobbed till you couldn’t breathe not even realising you had stood to you feet, them leading you somewhere, as if in auto pilot.

You were walking and fast at that, but you recognised the familiar driveway as soon as you entered it.

You were at sero’s house. You stopped just outside the door contemplating weather you should knock or not.

Fuck it you thought.

You were already sobbing and shaking uncontrollably and you just needed a hug from your boyfriend.

You knocked once, then twice then a thrid alittle harder when the door swung open, and your met with sero’s mum.

At first glance she was shocked taking in your state.

But when you opened your mouth to ask her

“H-hi is Uhm Sero home? Please I’m sorry I didn’t call I j- I just really need to see him.”

She quickly ushers you inside, hushing you and rubbing the small of your lower back.

She calls out for Sero multiple times telling him to get his ass in here while she sits you down on the couch.

“Sero! Get your ass in here now!”

Sero comes in not understanding what the commotion was about but when he see you in your broken state he rushes over and kneels in front of you.

He has such worry in his eyes, seeing you like this made him wanna cry.

His younger siblings had formed a group around you, making you feel more closed in which Sero noticed instantly seeing how your breathing was becoming more and more unstable, you seem to be slipping out of reality.

He was worried if you kept going you were gonna pass out.

“Everybody needs to leave right now please!”

He shouts even making his mum leave.

Once he sees everybody has left he turns to you.

“Baby.”

He coos

“You need to breathe baby.”

“Han- I-i can’t. please”

“Alright. Okay. It’s okay. Your okay, your with me your safe.”

He is internally panicking, but he needs to be strong for you, even if he ain’t quite to sure what to do.

He gently reaches for your hand being careful not to startle you and places it on his chest.

“Here, try and follow me as best as you can okay? Take your time no pressure baby.”

He takes deep breaths, you following along as best as you can feeling safe with him.

“There you go, atta girl, keep going.”

He praises, your breathing becoming more steady.

You take some more deep breaths, before falling into Sero him catching you, snuggling into his neck, your a lot calmer now but your still sniffing which makes his heart ache.

You guys sit there on the ground you straddling his lap with your head in the crook of his neck, one of his hands cradling your head while the other rests on the lower of your back.

“Baby, what going on? What got you so worked up?”

“It’s just stress from school and stuff han, I’m sorry but I didn’t know where else to go.”

You say looking up at him. He cups your face in both his hands before saying.

“Do not ever apologise for coming to me when you’re upset. I am here for you. That’s what I do.”

You give him a soft smile before responding,

“Thank you.”

You hug into his neck again and he softly responds with an “always”

A couple minutes go by and Sero speaks up suggesting,

“Let’s head to my room okay?”

You nod your head and stand up him taking you by the hand and leading you into his room.

Once you get in there he shuts the curtains leaving it completely dark in there and closes the door behind you guys.

You both get into bed, you laying on top of him, his hand cradling your head once again and his other rubbing soothing circles on your back.

About 15 minutes go by before you feel yourself get droopy and you drift off into slumber, sero’s presence just feels so comforting.

About 40 minutes goes by since you had fallen asleep and Sero is still rubbing circles on your back knowing you need it.

His mum pops her head into his room asking,

“How is she?”

“She’s asleep.”

“Good she needs it.”

“Yeah she really does” he lets out a breathy chuckle

“If either of you need anything, I mean anything let me know okay?”

“Yes ma, thank you”

She shuts the door leaving you two be.

Sero not long falls asleep after that.

When you wake up in sero’s arms you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. How did you get so lucky?

Sero definitely made sure you took breaks when studying and do things to take care of yourself.

You now were also not aloud to study or train without him.

A/N: this one is js so cuteeee. I love love Sero with my whole heart brooo

OBVIOUSLY NOT FORCING BUT MORE SERO HANTA SMAUS PLEASE YOU SMAUS ARE SO GOOD I NEED MORE AND SERO IS HUZZ😔🤍

low dose | h. sero

in which you didn't expect to like your dealer, but he keeps replying to your overly enthusiastic texts like it's normal.

tell my mom we're in love | h. sero

fake dating wasn't on your holiday to-do list—until sero invited you home for tamales and chaos (3525 words)

you regretted this the moment you stepped out of the dormitory and into the sharp chill of mid-december air, a duffel bag hanging off one shoulder and your dignity already teetering on the edge. trailing beside you was hanta sero, practically vibrating with the smug energy of a man who had just talked his best friend into making the worst decision of her academic career.

and technically, he had.

somewhere between his mother's increasingly invasive matchmaking attempts and his inability to say the word "no" like a normal person, he'd decided the solution was to invent a girlfriend. and of course, of course, he'd chosen you.

"come on," he said now, as a cab idled at the curb, white exhaust curling into the crisp air like smoke from a slow-burning disaster. "tell me this won't be fun. just a little bit."

"i think i'm too emotionally aware to find this fun," you muttered, hoisting your bag into the trunk as he leaned beside you with his usual careless grace.

sero grinned—that unbothered, insufferably pretty grin that always made it harder to stay annoyed with him for long. "emotionally aware, huh? sounds like you're already getting into character."

you leveled him with a look. "if i'm your girlfriend, you're going to need to stop flirting like a golden retriever with a god complex."

"babe," he said, slipping into the backseat beside you with the kind of unearned confidence that should have come with a warning label, "flirting is literally how i survive in social settings. don't take this from me."

you stared out the window, hoping the freezing glass would cool the creeping warmth crawling up your neck. "we're not actually dating, hanta."

"right," he said, and he sounded amused, not wounded. "but we could be really good at it."

you didn't answer. he didn't press.

the cab pulled away from the dorms, and for a moment the silence between you was companionable, like it always had been. you'd known sero for years now—long enough to understand that his laid-back demeanor was as real as it was performative. he was the kind of person who made a room feel lighter just by being in it, but who also knew the weight of silence better than most people ever would.

he didn't make you feel like you had to be anyone but yourself. and that, unfortunately, was the root of the problem.

somewhere along the road from "we're just friends" to "please pretend to be my girlfriend so my mom stops trying to marry me off," things had started to shift.

not all at once. not obviously.

but they shifted.

now he was dozing beside you, his head tilted toward your shoulder, and every bump in the road made him inch closer. you should have nudged him off. you should have drawn the line.

but you didn't.

instead, you studied the soft lines of his face—the relaxed set of his mouth, the faint crease between his brows like his dreams were just a little too fast for his thoughts to catch—and you wondered what the hell you'd gotten yourself into.

by the time the cab slowed, the sun had dipped low, casting golden light over a neighborhood that looked far too idyllic to be real. sero's house was two stories of warmth and welcome: string lights curled along the porch railing, a wreath hung slightly crooked on the front door, and smoke drifted lazily from a chimney that promised something warm inside.

standing at the threshold was a woman with sharp eyes, a kind smile, and the unmistakable aura of someone who could both bake you cookies and emotionally destroy you in the same breath.

sero's mother.

you froze.

he didn't.

without hesitation, sero leaned in, brushing your hair behind your ear like it was the most natural thing in the world. his voice dipped just low enough for only you to hear. "smile like you love me."

then he reached for your hand.

his fingers, long and warm, laced effortlessly through yours.

you didn't pull away.

and that was the moment—standing at the edge of his childhood, your fingers locked in his, heart skipping in the kind of rhythm you weren't prepared for—that you realized you were in far more danger than you thought.

because part of you didn't want to let go.

the cab hadn't even rolled to a full stop before sero's mom was standing in front of it, arms crossed, eyes already locked onto her target like a seasoned general. you had seen pictures, sure—sero had shown you a few over lunch one day, swiping through images of his mom with an almost reverent fondness—but none of them did her justice.

she was radiant. that was the first word that came to mind. not in some soft, dreamy way, but in the sharp, unmistakable warmth of someone who had mastered the art of existing unapologetically. she had a scarf looped carelessly around her neck, dark hair pinned up with wisps escaping, and that immediate, unnerving energy unique to mothers who know everything before you say a word.

"hanta," she said brightly as you approached. "you took forever, mijo. i was about to call."

and then her eyes slid to you.

her whole face changed.

"qué linda," she said, stepping down toward you without hesitation. "you're even prettier than the pictures."

you opened your mouth to answer—say something polite, maybe even charming—but instead you were pulled into a hug so warm and familiar you forgot how to speak altogether.

she smelled like cinnamon and butter, like café and home. her arms wrapped around you without hesitation, solid and reassuring, and you blinked twice before realizing she wasn't letting go just yet.

she pulled back, hands on your shoulders, eyes scanning your face with curiosity. "how old are you, mija?"

"seventeen," you managed. "ua student. same class as hanta."

"top twenty," sero chimed from behind you, proud and useless.

his mom smiled wider. "good. you'll need that to keep up with him. he talks too much."

"i'm right here," sero said, offended.

"and what's your quirk, sweetheart?" she asked, guiding you inside like she owned every molecule of the house—which she probably did.

"just a luck quirk," you replied. "it's not anything big or flashy."

"flashy's overrated," she said. "flashy gets you on magazine covers, but smart keeps you alive. hanta could use some of that balance."

sero made a wounded noise. "i'm right here."

you stepped into the house and tried not to gape. it was warm and lived-in, with mismatched furniture and soft lights, and framed photos in every direction. you passed at least three different versions of baby sero—one with cake on his face, one dressed as a shark, and one in a tiny suit looking like he'd lost a bet.

you were immediately ushered to the couch, where sero flopped down beside you like he'd done this a thousand times. his arm stretched along the back of the cushions behind you, easy and casual, but you felt the heat of it like a brand against your neck.

his mom sat in the armchair across from you, one leg crossed, hands folded, expression deceptively pleasant.

"so," she said. "how long have you two been together?"

"six months," you and sero answered in unison.

your eyes met. you both smiled.

it was practiced, but god—it didn't feel like a lie.

"how'd you meet?" she asked next.

sero leaned forward like he was telling a secret. "training. she beat up kaminari. i've never recovered."

you tried not to laugh. "he followed me around for a week."

"i was courting you."

"you were loitering near vending machines."

"i was being persistent," he corrected. "it worked, didn't it?"

his mom watched you both, eyes narrowed just enough to make you sweat.

"and what do you like about my son?" she asked you, suddenly.

your mouth went dry.

sero glanced sideways, surprised.

but the answer came easy.

"he's reliable. and funny. and he listens—really listens. like you're the only person in the room."

you could feel sero's eyes on you, and the room felt warmer than it had a second ago.

"he's easy to be around," you said, a little softer now. "i feel like i can breathe near him."

a long silence stretched across the room.

then sero bumped your shoulder with his own, voice low. "you're not supposed to make me blush in front of my mom."

his mom smiled, pleased. "i like you."

you smiled back, because how could you not. "thank you."

"i made tamales," she said, rising to her feet. "sit tight. i'll get you a plate."

"do you need help—?" you started, half-standing.

"no, no. you're a guest. you sit and let yourself be adored."

she vanished into the kitchen with surprising speed.

the moment she was out of earshot, you collapsed sideways onto the couch.

"i blacked out," you whispered. "what did i even say?"

"that i'm amazing and you love being around me," sero said smugly.

you shot him a look.

he leaned a little closer, voice dropping. "also, you were adorable. you didn't have to go that hard. i almost forgot it was fake."

you didn't answer.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

dinner came after a comfortable lull in the afternoon—just enough time for you to grow used to the house's warmth, the quiet hum of kitchen sounds, and the sound of sero humming to himself as he helped his mom plate tamales. there was something undeniably domestic about it—watching him lean over the counter, sleeves pushed up, swiping a bit of masa from the corner of a dish with a grin when he thought no one was watching.

you caught yourself watching.

a little too long.

and when he turned around and caught your eye, offering you a wink that made your stomach stutter—you looked away, pretending to study the wall like it had secrets.

the house filled slowly with more noise, more feet, more voices. by the time dinner was ready, the table was surrounded by people—his siblings, all younger, all chaos incarnate. there were five in total, ranging from what looked like barely ten to maybe sixteen. all of them clearly adored sero, and all of them clearly had a thousand questions about you.

"are you really his girlfriend?" one of the younger girls asked, blinking up at you from her seat at the far end of the table.

sero, already sitting beside you, reached for your hand under the table without hesitation. "of course she is," he said easily. "she puts up with me. that's gotta mean something."

you glanced sideways, surprised by the way his thumb started tracing circles into your palm. his fingers were warm, his grip relaxed, like this was a habit and not a performance. your first instinct was to pull away—but you didn't. you let him hold on.

"do you like him?" one of the boys asked bluntly, somewhere between a dare and a test.

you looked over at sero, who was already looking at you.

and the smile that spread across his face wasn't teasing. it wasn't even smug.

it was soft.

"i do," you said honestly. "he's easy to like."

one of his sisters actually swooned.

their mother returned from the kitchen, a stack of warm plates balanced in her arms. "aye, look at you two," she said fondly, setting down the food. "you look like you've been married five years already."

sero snorted. "that's because she already tells me what to do."

"someone has to," you said, nudging his leg under the table.

his knee pressed into yours and didn't move.

the meal began in full, voices rising over each other, stories flying back and forth like birds across the table. tamales were unwrapped, passed down, devoured. rice and beans steamed in bowls at the center. someone spilled horchata and got teased for it for fifteen minutes straight.

sero kept his hand under the table the entire time.

sometimes on your knee. sometimes brushing your fingers. once, briefly, resting on your thigh with a touch so casual and confident you forgot how to breathe for a second.

"so how did you know?" his mom asked halfway through the meal, raising an eyebrow. "that you liked each other, i mean."

you blinked. "um."

sero didn't miss a beat.

"she made this face at me once," he said, totally serious. "during training. right after i got my ass handed to me. and i thought—yeah. i'd let her ruin my life."

you choked on a sip of water. "that's not what happened."

"you raised your eyebrow," he insisted, "like i was both impressive and pathetic. it was very motivating."

"you were bleeding."

"romance is about timing."

the table erupted in laughter.

"you're ridiculous," you muttered, but there was no bite to it. you felt lightheaded from smiling too much.

his younger sister leaned over the table toward you. "you make him less annoying," she said seriously. "he's, like, way less weird with you here."

"he's still weird," someone else muttered.

"hey," sero said, deeply offended. "i'm the glue of this household."

"you're the glitter glue," one of the boys shot back. "unnecessary and all over everything."

the conversation swirled, but it was warm. easy. you felt like you'd slipped into a rhythm you hadn't known you were missing. sero's family didn't make you feel like an outsider. if anything, they treated you like a permanent fixture—like they already liked you, just because he did.

and sero—he kept looking at you.

in the quiet moments between bites. when you laughed at something his brother said. when you wiped your fingers on your napkin and he passed you your drink like he'd already anticipated you'd reach for it.

"you're really good at this," you whispered during a lull, leaning in.

"at what?" he asked, voice low, chin tilted toward you.

"this," you said. "pretending."

his eyes flicked down to your mouth, just for a second.

"what can i say," he said quietly. "i'm something of an actor."

you snickered.

and then his mom called your name from across the table.

"you like dessert, mija?" she asked, already bringing out the plates.

you blinked twice before answering, forcing a smile. "of course. thank you."

sero didn't look away from you for a long time.

dinner had long ended. the noise had faded. sero's house, once pulsing with overlapping voices and clattering plates, now thrummed with a different kind of energy—low, contented, quiet.

his siblings had scattered, full-bellied and sugar-sticky, off to bedrooms and couches and wherever else they disappeared to in the evening. someone had turned on a dusty old playlist in the den, and the soft hum of vintage boleros curled through the walls like warmth that refused to die.

you stood in the hallway between the dining room and the back door, hovering in the in-between of things: of conversations and thoughts, of what was real and what had only started out that way.

you weren't sure what to do with your hands.

or your heart.

sero appeared beside you like he always did—quiet-footed and comfortably close, smelling faintly of soap and masa and something sweet from dessert you hadn't caught the name of. his sleeves were still pushed up, revealing his forearms, and you hated that you were looking at them. not because they weren't worth looking at—they were—but because it meant your guard was down. again.

"come on," he said softly. "balcony?"

you didn't answer. you just nodded and followed.

the air outside was sharp and clean. the kind of cold that wakes you up without being cruel. you wrapped your arms around yourself more out of instinct than discomfort. the balcony was small, with a windchime shaped like a lizard hanging from the overhang, and a view of soft suburban rooftops and yellow windows scattered like lanterns across the horizon.

you leaned against the wooden railing. he did the same.

neither of you spoke.

you were too full of the evening. of tamales and laughter. of too much touch under the table. of words you'd said with a smile that weren't lies—but weren't supposed to be true either.

the problem wasn't pretending.

the problem was that pretending didn't feel like pretending anymore.

you didn't know when it had changed. maybe it was gradual—each time he laced his fingers through yours without asking, or rested his hand on your thigh mid-story, or offered you a grin across the table that was so familiar, so soft, you forgot why you were here in the first place.

but it hit you now, standing beside him in the chill—this unshakable, irreversible knowledge:

you were in love with him.

god, you were in love with hanta sero.

not just in a surface-level, crush-colored way. not just in the i-like-how-he-makes-me-laugh way. it was deeper than that. older. something that had snuck in when you weren't looking and taken root so quietly you hadn't noticed until it was everywhere.

you were in love with the way he held space. with the way he listened without trying to fix you. with the way he let the world land on him lightly, and still carried it in both hands when it mattered.

you were in love with someone who didn't even know you weren't faking anymore.

you exhaled.

"you're quiet," he said, not looking at you. "regretting it already?"

you shook your head. "no. it's just... weird how easy it was. with your family."

he hummed. "they like you."

"they liked that i made you less annoying."

"that is the highest compliment in my house."

you smiled, faint. "they're sweet. loud, but sweet."

"you kept up fine."

"i think i blacked out for half of it."

"you were golden," he said, softer now. "you always are."

you turned toward him slowly.

the lights from the kitchen spilled faintly through the curtains behind you, catching just enough of his face for you to see how relaxed he looked. how present. how close.

you swallowed.

"hanta?"

he looked over at you, brows raised. "yeah?"

there was a beat of silence.

"i don't know how to lie to you," you said.

he blinked once.

then again, slower.

"what?"

"i mean," you continued, hands curling around the edge of the railing. "i've been trying. all day. and i thought i could. i thought i could pull it off—play the part, pretend—but then we got here, and your mom hugged me, and you touched my hand under the table, and i just... i don't know when it stopped being a bit."

his eyes searched your face like he was looking for something he'd already lost.

"hanta," you said again. "i'm in love with you."

his face froze.

the air between you seemed to still. the windchime didn't move. the whole world narrowed into this one pinpoint moment, bright and fragile and terrifying.

he stepped back—just barely.

"you don't have to keep pretending," he said. carefully. cautiously. "no one's watching anymore. you can drop it."

you stared at him.

"i'm not pretending," you said.

another beat. a sharp exhale.

his lips parted slightly. his brows furrowed, not in confusion, but in disbelief. in the kind of fear that came from wanting something too much and being afraid to reach for it.

"you're serious."

"i've never been more serious about anything in my life."

sero let out a long, shaky laugh. it cracked halfway through.

"say it again," he whispered.

"i'm in love with you."

and this time, you reached for him.

your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, and you felt the moment he melted—slow and overwhelmed, the way something melts that's been cold for too long.

"you've got to be kidding me," he muttered, leaning into your touch. "i thought—god, i thought i was the only one losing my mind over this."

you smiled, eyes stinging.

"you weren't."

"i've been in love with you since second year," he admitted, voice breaking a little. "you kissed my cheek that one time after i carried your books back from the nurse's office, and i nearly died. like, actual cardiac arrest."

"that was a year ago."

"welcome to my long, slow descent into insanity."

you laughed, quiet and ridiculous.

and then he kissed you.

it wasn't rushed. wasn't showy. it wasn't a fireworks-and-credits-roll kiss.

it was the kind that happened in doorways, in hallways, in quiet rooms where hearts beat too loud. the kind that changed nothing and everything all at once.

he kissed you like he meant it.

you kissed him like you'd been waiting your whole life to.

when you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours.

"you're real?" you whispered, breath catching.

"i better be," he said. "otherwise you've just confessed to a figment of your imagination."

you swallowed a grin.

his thumb traced your cheek.

"i thought this would end in disaster," he said quietly. "that pretending would ruin everything."

"and?"

"and now i don't want it to end at all."

you leaned in, bumping your nose against his.

"then it doesn't have to."

he smiled, and kissed you again.

not like he was pretending.

like he was home.

re-up | h. sero

⇨ sero was supposed to pick up and leave, but somehow, he keeps finding new reasons to stay.

Sero's Tape Headcanon

Kaminari breaks his only pencil by accident in the middle of class but instead of asking someone else to borrow theirs, he goes over to Sero and asks for some tape to fix it as a joke. However, Sero just smiles and says "Sure! Hang on a sec" and rips some tape from his elbow and hands it to him and Kaminari has to try to contain his laughter as he heads back to his seat.

As time goes on, he constantly asks Sero for tape for his totally destroyed binder and his broken sandals that and other stupid shit like a white bracelet but made of tape. All of this is just to see how long Sero would allow it. Surprisingly, he was never told to stop, instead he was just questioned on how he kept breaking his stuff so fast. With that, it became so commonplace that the other students caught on and would ask him for tape for their pencils, binders, worksheets, legs, etc.

Everyone approaches him differently. Just to name a few:

Bakugo just straight up tells him to give him tape, Kirishima just asks him with a goofy smile and rubs the back of his head and afterwards tells him he's the best, Momo asks kindly and then makes him his favourite chocolate bar to thank him, Uraraka smiles at him and asks him how he's doing before she asks for it, Midoriya is awkward and after he asks he will immediately start rambling about how he doesn't have to give him any if he doesn't want to, Mina's like "Bitch my leg hairs ain't getting any shorter. Your girl need tape", Tokoyami makes the exchange as quick as possible by apologizing for the intrusion and then thanking him for his generosity, and Todoroki is sooooooo hecking awkward and acts like he's trying to pick something to order from a menu but isn't ready like "can I uh have some... uh... you have tape, right? Like, your elbows? ...tape?"

All the while, Sero is wondering why nobody just gets it from the tape dispenser at the front of the class, but he is nonetheless happy to help.

Bonus:

Aizawa tells them to stop harassing Sero for tape and disrupting the class, even threatening them with extra homework if they don't stop. But this doesn't last very long as one day while everyone's writing a test or something, he just casually walks over to Sero and asks him for tape because he ran out and he doesn't want to waste money on more when there is a living tape dispenser that "won't forsake him like the others."

IM SO INLOVE WITH FUSION, THE CONCEPT IS SO INTERESTING!! LIKE WHY ARE THEY FUSED??? PLANTONIC, LOVE, FORCED? IT'S LIKE A MARRIAGE AND THE FUSION IS THE WITTLE BABY

Sketch Redraws: where I pick at random to redraw screenshots saved on my phone lol

Note: I’m considering doing sketch commissions for the summer but I’m still unsure I’ll have time

*breaks down the door*

GIMME MORE SERO SHIT HOE

{I am not paying for that door}

MY POOR DOOR T-T

Y'all didn’t really plan it, It sorta just happened

You guys were just vibing in his hammock together talking about random things but one thing lead to another

He definitely initiated it

I mean how could he not? He thought you were just so cute as you rambled on and on nearly putting Midoriya to shame

It was slow, his much large hand settled on the nape of your neck 

You fully expected it to be awkward when you pulled apart for air, finally remembering to breathe

But no. It wasn’t awkward, he just grinned, kissed you on the forehead and asked you to continue talking.

The only problem was; you couldn’t remember what you were saying beforehand

hockey au sero, who looks so much beefier with all that padding–

he wipes his broken nose on the back of his glove and sheepishly tells you that, yes, he’ll wear his helmet during practice from now on– he’ll wear his helmet ALL of the time

he’s always drinking mass gainers and protein drinks, begging you to go out to dinner with him after practice even though he’s all sweaty and tired, because he’s trying to keep his weight up during the season 

Late night grocery store run with the squad! 

Hey guys! I’ve recently become obsessed with My Hero Academia and I think it’s about time I finally posted fanart for it! I thought that making a draw the squad would be fun and it would also help me improve my people drawing skills. I honestly think I’m improving, and I’ll probably be posting more bnha fanart soon! 

Original Draw The Squad: https://www.deviantart.com/queencookiemonster/art/Draw-the-Squad-base-Boat-675503303 

going home sick :(

Drew kaminari for the first time bad I made him kinda pretty?

He be cute lol

Also here’s Sero who I also drew for the first time today 🙃🙃

silly class 1a headcanons

(Yes, I like to think of class 1a doing silly teenage activities instead of being child soldiers)

-Whenever they have movie night and its Ojiro's turn, he chooses a different karate kid each time.

-Jirou is on aux all the time because she is THE playlist maker.

-Bakugou and Deku will be bickering all the time, and outisders will think they hate each other, but when you walk into the common room they are sharing a blanket and doing an All Might movie marathon.

-Denki loves learning new languages and learned JSL- he and Koda have full convos while nobody else understands.

-Iida definitely said "gotta blast" once and nobody will let it go.

-Tokoyami and Aoyama were dared to switch rooms for a day because they were complete opposites and they became friends after that.

-Everytime someone cooks/bakes Sero ironically wiggles his fingers around and says "dont mind if I do!" (Sato finds it funny and Bakugou hates it).

-Ochako and Mina do Kpop Random Dance Plays together. They're both girl group stans ofc

Ever since the camping incident, Bakugo had been feeling confused, bewildered, a little angry, confuzzled, tricked, fooled, bamboozled, and unhinged. Things just weren’t making sense to him. It was like he had woken up that morning to find that his dad had an anger problem and his mother had become the sweetest creature on earth. Or gravity had shifted so that he could walk on the ceiling.

Why had Izuku saved him? It didn’t make sense. Midoriya didn’t even like him, didn’t even acknowledge his presence when they were standing in the same room. Sure, Midoriya had saved him before, but that was different. This time he was inviting himself to a world of pain. Bakugo had been scared, but if he could do it all over again, he would have had Midoriya stay. The kid had broken arms for goodness' sake.

zuku stood in front of Gran Torino's dilapidated old “base” with his things pack and really to go. He was almost sad to leave. Gran Torino was a good teacher, maybe better than All Might was.

“Hey, old man, thanks for everything,” Izuku said sincerely. Gran Torino just looked confused.

“I had nothing to do with what happened to you, you know. I didn’t do that much” Gran Torino grumbled.

“I know, but if you hadn't said all that you did, and the sparring... I don’t think I would have lasted very long. It was because of you, that I was able to face the hero killer.” Izuku said truthfully. He couldn’t let himself lie to this man. he trusted the old coot, maybe a little too much, because Gran smacked his leg with his walking stick.

“Ow!”

💛🧡

Updated: 9.24.2024 (this post is currently under construction!)

All graphics made by @ktskibkg0

Love him

Sero needs more love.