#kirishima eijirou

bokunoheroes-stories:

This writing piece is a collaboration with Spice @strawberryandspiceandchocolate. We had a lot of fun writing this together. We hope you guys enjoy it! 

Kirishima Eijirou X Reader 

This contains Angst and Fluff, along with a Timeskip. 

Word Count: 3,761

Keep reading

codename-bewareofthefangirl:

Hi!

A few days ago I read these headcanons about the Bakugou Family by the lovely @cutekirikitty and I felt so inspired, enough to beat for a night my writer’s block. Sooooo… this is the result. I wanted to write a ff revolving around Mitsuki, that I headcanon as a very complex and beautiful mother figure. I believe she may have had a past similar to his son, especially due to her flaming personality, and I don’t believe that just because she became a mother all her issues have magically disappeared. Parenting is hard and there’s no guide to it. That’s why I love her so much. I hope you enjoy this ff as much as me!

And thank you again Cutekirikitty for reading and betaing and helping me to improve it! You were such a great inspiration and help!

Have a nice day!

Read On AO3

Mitsuki Bakugou, Masaru Bakugou & KiriBaku

Light Angst, Parenting, Anger Issues, Motherhood, Mother-Son Relationship, Fluff, Kiri is a Sunshine, Established Relationship, Official Introduction to the Parents

“I’m home!”

Masaru’s voice echoed through the rooms of the Bakugou’s household.

As he tiredly took off his shoes, no answer was screamed back at him. He frowned, then let out a little sigh.

Looking around as he straightened, he realized that all the lights were off; he couldn’t hear anything from the kitchen nor any other room.

Oh.

So, that was it?

He silently padded down the corridor, up the stairs and then to the bedroom he shared with his wife. Finding the door closed, he decided to knock before entering. When nobody answered, he turned the knob and quietly stepped into the dark room.

His lips stretched in a bitter-sweet smile.

There she was, Mitsuki, curled in the middle of their bed, with photos scattered around her as the light of the dying sun dyed her in red. He could only see her back but knew by heart all the telltale signs of when his wife was upset.

“I’m home…” he repeated in a murmur.

A flinch.

“…welcome back.”

“Can I sit?”

A shrug.

Satisfied with the reaction, he seated on the corner of the bed. Close enough to reach out to her in case of need, but not to suffocate her.

Mitsuki was staring at a crumpled photo in her hands, chin resting on the knees.

It brought Masaru back in times, to when they were younger. When Mitsuki was fighting with herself day by day, when she would suddenly get silent and mad and flee away from him for no apparent reason. When Masaru would wait for hours under her window to know if she was alright, when he would let her cry into his arms. When life was less complicated, and they were the only ones they had to take care of.

Masaru leaned to look at which one she was looking, even though he could sort of tell by all the wrinkles. A photo she had the habit to pick when she was angry at herself.

A young Katsuki flashed a blinding smile to the camera, holding triumphantly some flowers in his hands. There were two or three bruises on his skin.

They had gone hiking for the first time ever; well, more a walk than anything. Katsuki had been so excited about the smallest things, running wild into the woods. The scars were a badge of honor for having tripped down a slide as he tried to pick some flowers for Mitsuki. His mother hadn’t had the heart to scold him, too moved by the innocent gift.

“…wasn’t he happy?” she whispered, voice scratchy.

He could see how puffy her eyes were but made no comment.

“Yes, it’s one of my favorite photos.”

She nodded in agreement.

“It was one of the last times I genuinely complimented him wasn’t it?”

Masaru didn’t reply.

They both knew the answer.

Mitsuki was an overly proud mom.

Who could blame her?

She had a caring, honest husband she loved to death and a strong, shiny son who deserved the world. She still couldn’t believe she had been blessed with them, especially thinking of all the flaws and issues she had always harbored inside.

She had managed to do something good in the end, hadn’t she?

That’s why she had always showered Katsuki with compliments, love, and affection. Well, partially it was also to compensate for when she would lose control and let her anger burn, but she was working on it; she had already improved in comparison as to how she was during high school. But, most of all, it was because she genuinely believed Katsuki was the best child ever.

Strong, beautiful, capable, smart, confident… And with a strong quirk to match! She couldn’t count how many people had complimented her, saying her Katsuki was born to be a hero.

How could have a mother not let it go to her head? She had always been bad at control herself, at doing things with measure.

She had let it blind her.

Stupid of her, right?

Then small things had started to pile up… a harsh comment, a sentence that had made her nearly snapped, bruises on his skin, stubborn replies, an annoyed click of the tongue… Small things that should have told her what was happening, that should have made her understand. But… she didn’t want to see. Katsuki was probably the best thing it had ever happened to her and she didn’t want to accept she may have… ruined it. She wasn’t ready. She was scared. She wanted to believe they were just tantrums, that they would pass soon.

Until the truth smacked her in the face and she was left with no choice.

Keep reading

Hi!

A few days ago I read these headcanons about the Bakugou Family by the lovely @cutekirikitty and I felt so inspired, enough to beat for a night my writer’s block. Sooooo… this is the result. I wanted to write a ff revolving around Mitsuki, that I headcanon as a very complex and beautiful mother figure. I believe she may have had a past similar to his son, especially due to her flaming personality, and I don’t believe that just because she became a mother all her issues have magically disappeared. Parenting is hard and there’s no guide to it. That’s why I love her so much. I hope you enjoy this ff as much as me!

And thank you again Cutekirikitty for reading and betaing and helping me to improve it! You were such a great inspiration and help!

Have a nice day!

Read On AO3

Mitsuki Bakugou, Masaru Bakugou & KiriBaku

Light Angst, Parenting, Anger Issues, Motherhood, Mother-Son Relationship, Fluff, Kiri is a Sunshine, Established Relationship, Official Introduction to the Parents

“I’m home!”

Masaru’s voice echoed through the rooms of the Bakugou’s household.

As he tiredly took off his shoes, no answer was screamed back at him. He frowned, then let out a little sigh.

Looking around as he straightened, he realized that all the lights were off; he couldn’t hear anything from the kitchen nor any other room.

Oh.

So, that was it?

He silently padded down the corridor, up the stairs and then to the bedroom he shared with his wife. Finding the door closed, he decided to knock before entering. When nobody answered, he turned the knob and quietly stepped into the dark room.

His lips stretched in a bitter-sweet smile.

There she was, Mitsuki, curled in the middle of their bed, with photos scattered around her as the light of the dying sun dyed her in red. He could only see her back but knew by heart all the telltale signs of when his wife was upset.

“I’m home…” he repeated in a murmur.

A flinch.

“…welcome back.”

“Can I sit?”

A shrug.

Satisfied with the reaction, he seated on the corner of the bed. Close enough to reach out to her in case of need, but not to suffocate her.

Mitsuki was staring at a crumpled photo in her hands, chin resting on the knees.

It brought Masaru back in times, to when they were younger. When Mitsuki was fighting with herself day by day, when she would suddenly get silent and mad and flee away from him for no apparent reason. When Masaru would wait for hours under her window to know if she was alright, when he would let her cry into his arms. When life was less complicated, and they were the only ones they had to take care of.

Masaru leaned to look at which one she was looking, even though he could sort of tell by all the wrinkles. A photo she had the habit to pick when she was angry at herself.

A young Katsuki flashed a blinding smile to the camera, holding triumphantly some flowers in his hands. There were two or three bruises on his skin.

They had gone hiking for the first time ever; well, more a walk than anything. Katsuki had been so excited about the smallest things, running wild into the woods. The scars were a badge of honor for having tripped down a slide as he tried to pick some flowers for Mitsuki. His mother hadn’t had the heart to scold him, too moved by the innocent gift.

“…wasn’t he happy?” she whispered, voice scratchy.

He could see how puffy her eyes were but made no comment.

“Yes, it’s one of my favorite photos.”

She nodded in agreement.

“It was one of the last times I genuinely complimented him wasn’t it?”

Masaru didn’t reply.

They both knew the answer.

Mitsuki was an overly proud mom.

Who could blame her?

She had a caring, honest husband she loved to death and a strong, shiny son who deserved the world. She still couldn’t believe she had been blessed with them, especially thinking of all the flaws and issues she had always harbored inside.

She had managed to do something good in the end, hadn’t she?

That’s why she had always showered Katsuki with compliments, love, and affection. Well, partially it was also to compensate for when she would lose control and let her anger burn, but she was working on it; she had already improved in comparison as to how she was during high school. But, most of all, it was because she genuinely believed Katsuki was the best child ever.

Strong, beautiful, capable, smart, confident… And with a strong quirk to match! She couldn’t count how many people had complimented her, saying her Katsuki was born to be a hero.

How could have a mother not let it go to her head? She had always been bad at control herself, at doing things with measure.

She had let it blind her.

Stupid of her, right?

Then small things had started to pile up… a harsh comment, a sentence that had made her nearly snapped, bruises on his skin, stubborn replies, an annoyed click of the tongue… Small things that should have told her what was happening, that should have made her understand. But… she didn’t want to see. Katsuki was probably the best thing it had ever happened to her and she didn’t want to accept she may have… ruined it. She wasn’t ready. She was scared. She wanted to believe they were just tantrums, that they would pass soon.

Until the truth smacked her in the face and she was left with no choice.

She truly realized how things had escalated only during a quiet afternoon after she had picked up Katsuki and Midoriya from the kindergarten. Usually, all the boys would go play at the park in front of the house, but that day… ah, that day Mitsuki had asked Midoriya and Katsuki to play in the garden. Even though Katsuki had seemed annoyed by something and the other boy more nervous than usual, she had brushed it off. The house was empty, she had the laundry to do but didn’t want to feel lonely, and, most of all, she was curious about what they would play. It had passed some time since she had seen them enjoying themselves, hadn’t it? They were already growing.

At first, the afternoon had passed smoothly.

Mitsuki had finished her laundry and then moved to vacuum the bedrooms on the second floor. The kids were playing some adventures in the garden when she heard a pained gasp.

Dropping everything, she rushed down the stairs with the heart in her throat.

“Katsuki! Midoriya!” She called, stumbling out in the garden.

“What?” Bakugou replied, his tone clearly annoyed.

Mitsuki froze.

Her son was standing on the grass with a stick into his hands, while Midoriya had fallen to the ground. He was wearing some strange rags and had written on his forehead “Bad”; his knees were scratched, and tears streamed down his cheeks as he trembled like a leaf.

“W-what’s going on?” Mitsuki asked.

Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“We are playing at the hero and the monster. Deku is being weak.”

“Deku?” Her eyes grew wide, but the boy didn’t flinch.

“Yeah, I chose it. We were playing, I was defeating him when he fell and said he didn’t want to play anymore.”

Mitsuki looked at the small boy, who tried hurriedly to hide the tears.

“Are you alright, Midoriya?”

The boy nodded and stifled a smile.

“I-I am!”

“It doesn’t seem so.”

The boy threw a scared glance at Katsuki, who clicked his tongue, and nodded again.

“I am! I’m fine!”

Mitsuki frowned, stepping closer.

“Why don’t you change the game? You could be both heroes and I can play the monster!” she suggested as she helped him stand. A strange uneasiness was creeping into her heart.

Midoriya seemed to light up, but Katsuki immediately protested.

“No.”

Mitsuki glared at him.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s weak.”

His mother blinked, shocked.

“What?”

“Deku is weak. He can’t be a hero, he doesn’t even have a quirk yet!” Bakugou was clenching his fists, explosions echoing against his palms. “Tsk, I didn’t even want to play with him but you just brought him home…”

“Sure he can! What are you saying about your friend! Obviously Midoriya can be a hero! And stop calling him Deku, it’s not nice!” she snapped angrily, her tone sharper than what she intended.

Bakugou took a step back, shocked, but immediately glared back even more fiercely.

“He’s not my friend! And he can’t! You said it! Only strong kids can become heroes! He’s not!” he yelled, stomping a foot on the ground.

“He can be strong too!” Mitsuki should have remembered she was talking to a kid, but something in Bakugou’s attitude was making her brain shortcut. Was the look in his eyes? Or the conviction in his tone?

“He’s not! Everybody knows he’s weak! I am strong! I will be the hero!” She didn’t see the fear behind her son’s eyes, “I am the best! You said it, dad said it, the teachers said it!”

“This doesn’t mean that Midoriya is-”

“HE’S NOT! I’M THE ONLY HERO!” Bakugou roared, explosions going wild as he turned and pushed Midoriya to the ground once again, “HE’S NOTHING!”

Mitsuki’s heart stopped.

Her hand moved before she could think.

The slap echoed in the garden.

Bakugou stared at her with the mouth open.

Soon, his eyes filled with tears.

“W-why?” he whined, confused, angry and scared at the same time.

Mitsuki glanced at her own hand, fear strangling her from the inside.

She had never, never hit her son before. Never.

Midoriya started crying too.

She felt the panic rising, lost as what to do.

“K-Katsuki! Go to your bedroom! Now!” she ordered, trying to hide her insecurities behind a mask of anger.

“But I didn’t-”

“Now!”

The boy clenched his jaw.

“I hate you! Liar!” he seethed before running away.

Mitsuki watched him disappear inside the house, heart heavy and mind blank.

“Bakugou-san?” Midoriya was tugging at her sleeve, desperate.

She blinked at him and bent to pick him up, moving more on instinct than anything. She felt like an empty doll.

All she could think was that she had messed up.

She had messed up.

Mitsuki replayed what had just happened over and over again, in a state of horror, as she carried Midoriya home.

All those praises, the compliments, her stupid pride… she had messed up.

And only as she bowed deeply to Iinko, apologizing with all her heart for the behavior of her son, she realized what she had done to Katsuki.

It was her fault.

She had messed up. Once again.

Now she had to fix it.

From that day, Mitsuki gradually stopped complimenting Bakugou. She now saw how much they had inflated his pride and blinded his sight, and wanted to do something to fix, but didn’t know what. She hid her fear and regrets behind her short temper; she started making harsh remarks as soon as he misbehaved, faking not to see how good he was at everything he did and how much he put his efforts into it, finding flaws to mine his growing ego. No matter how much it hurt, how quickly the arguments between them increased, how similar their explosive personalities became and how bitter the resentment in Katsuki’s eyes grew, she shut her heart off.

She genuinely thought that would have been the right solution, believing the rare and awkward moments of shared affection would be enough to keep their relationship working.

Mitsuki only wanted him to realize his limits and flaws, to humbly accept that others could be great too.

She just wanted to be a great mother to a great son.

But when she realized that her attempts had only had the opposite effect, it was again too late. She had forgotten how to love Katsuki without hiding, how to show her love without shouting and being brusque, and Katsuki had grown distant and resentful, had seen through the mask all her flaws and pathetic attempts at parenting.

“What happened today?” Masaru asked gently, pulling her back to the present.

She didn’t say a word but took her phone and threw it into his lap. As soon as the screen lightened up, he realized it was already open on a message. By Katsuki.

“Tomorrow I’ll come for lunch with my boyfriend. I don’t want to, but he’s being a pain in the ass because he wants to meet you.

Don’t mess up, old hag.”

A gasp of surprise left his mouth.

Katsuki had a boyfriend?

He took the time to let it sink, then gave her back the phone.

“I doubt this is due to the fact it’s a boy and not a girl.”

“Who fucking cares!” she snapped, “It’s already a miracle he found someone with the horrible personality he-” She bit her own tongue, grimacing.

Ah, she was doing it again.

Her husband slowly rubbed circles on her back.

“Then?”

“The last sentence. It’s a fucking warning.”

“He must really care about him…” Masaru couldn’t help but smile fondly. The only thought that Katsuki had found someone special warmed him up.

“Obviously!” she scoffed, “As he could do something half-assed!”

Masaru chuckled, “You’re right.”

But that didn’t explain why Mitsuki was torturing herself again.

However, he let her be with her thoughts, just pulling her slowly closer.

After what seemed an infinite amount of time, she gently pushed him back.

“I have to prepare dinner…” She uncurled, stretching, and climbed out of the bed.

Her husband frowned a little, but his hand stopped in midair.

Should have he grabbed her? Insisted?

Ah, he had never been good at insisting, not even when it mattered the most. Not even when he should have. That’s why he had always ended up looking at the two people he loved the most in his life tearing each other apart, without being able to help. Tired and out of the loop after a day at work, too mellow and soft to contrast their anger or stop their aggressive arguments. Oh, he was good at comforting them afterward, when they were locked in their rooms berating themselves and the other at once, but it was too late. That was damage control, not a useful help.

But his wife knew him.

“It’s a threat, Masaru,” she said, stilling on the door without turning, “A warning for me. Don’t fuck up this time or it’s the end. And we all know how good I am at messing up.”

When they had told her Katsuki had been kidnapped, her world had shattered.

Katsuki? Her son? Kidnapped?

Before she could make up, before they could fix their relationship, he had been taken away. And what if that was the end?

She could remember rushing to the tv and stilling in shock as the new reported the incident, the world around becoming a buzzing blur. She had come back from the abyss of regrets and anger only as Eraserhead defended Katsuki, the only one who had seen the truth people always ignored about him, and she had never felt more grateful Katsuki had found teachers like him. The tears had streamed down her face without stopping until she had seen him being saved by his friends.

But what had she done when Katsuki had finally returned home?

Ah, just a hug. A hug was all that she had managed before her anger and issues had exploded.

She had screamed at him.

Because she had felt like dying while he was in danger. Because she was angry at Katsuki for letting them kidnap him and at herself for being angry for such a stupid reason. Because she felt so relieved, broken and frail she didn’t know how to hide it.

Because, simply, Mitsuki didn’t how to deal with the turmoil in her heart and always messed up everything, letting anger take the wheel as she tried to push back the rest.

They had ended up locked into their rooms once again, in a never-ending déjà vu, until Masaru had put her pieces back together and helped her going to Katsuki’s room without chickening back. It had taken all her courage and strength to knock and enter; she didn’t even have had the heart to switch on the light.

Since Katsuki hadn’t screamed to go away, she crawled into his bed and hugged him to the chest; feeling his arms circling her was such a relief. She let silent tears fell onto his blond hair, holding onto him as he buried the face into her chest. Outside the room, they both knew Masaru was sitting on the floor, waiting.

“…I’m- glad…” she managed to whisper.

Katsuki raised his head to meet her gaze.

“…me too…” he replied all too softly.

But she saw the disappointment in his eyes, the question screaming.

Why? Why couldn’t they be better than this? Why they always had to hurt each other? Why?

The next day, Mitsuki had let his son into the hands of the U.A teachers.

She had felt so disgusted by herself: for a second, she had felt glad they were taking him. She had been glad he would go and live at the dorm because she didn’t know how to answer that “Why?”; because she knew that those teachers were helping him grow and mature far better than she had ever done. Because every time she looked at him she remembered what a shitty mother she was, and it hurt.

And the worst was that Katsuki knew, she was sure he knew, and what could he ever feel for her, a mother messed up and scared to raise her own son, more than disappointment?

As the fated hour approached, Mitsuki grew nervous and nervous.

She was helping her husband in the kitchen with the lunch, but her hands trembled so badly she was murdering that poor potato.

“Why don’t you set the table?” Masaru gently took the knife away from her hands.

She sighed.

“I already did. Three times.”

“Three?”

“The second because I was agitated. The third because I snapped and hit a glass by accident. It shattered,” she grumbled begrudgingly.

“Are you okay?” Masaru took a look at her hand.

She rolled her eyes.

“Except for the fact that I’m a 38 years old grown ass woman but I’m panicking like a middle schooler because I have the short temper of a ticking bomb and I’m on the verge of ruining my son’s happiness once again? Fucking peachy.”

Masaru couldn’t help but burst into an amused laughter.

“You’ll be fine, Mitsuki. Katsuki wouldn’t have accepted to bring him home if he really thought you could mess up, would have he?”

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

Mitsuki knew as well as she knew that she was the adult there and had to pull herself together instead of going crazy. But she just… cared so much. It was scary. She was tired of making mistakes.

Sixteen years and she still didn’t know how to be a good mother.

Pathetic.

Masaru flicked her forehead, before returning to the curry.

“Stop it.”

“What?”

“Overthinking. And berating yourself.”

“I wasn’t!”

“You were!”

“I wasn’t!”

A ring cut their banter.

The potato fell from Mitsuki’s hands.

“You go, I’ll finish here.” Masaru gave her a small push, and she slowly made her way to the door.

She turned the knob holding her breath.

Red eyes.

Spiky blond hair, sharp jaws, always present pout and smell of nitroglycerin.

“And here I thought I would die before seeing you again,” she couldn’t help but smirk. Ah, Katsuki was dressed well today.

“Shut up, old hag!” he growled back, averting his eyes.

“Dude!” the gasp reminded them they weren’t alone.

Mitsuki’s eyes immediately ran to the boy who was waiting a step behind Katsuki and narrowed as she scrutinized him.

There was something familiar in him… Red spiky hair, scarlet eyes, well-built physique, nervous smile and…the joined hands.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, startling him, “You’re the boy who saved my dumb son!”

He seemed to be surprised about being recognized, but quickly brushed it off as a “Bakugou’s smart thing.”

“Yes, ma’am! Well, not exactly, I just helped out saving him- I just- well-”

“Yes, he fucking saved me! Stop mumbling idiot!”

Both the boy and Mitsuki almost gaped at Bakugou’s admission of having been saved, but if the first just smiled and squeezed his hand, the woman had to restrain herself from cursing.

“A-anyway… I’m Kirishima Eijirou, Ka-Bakugou’s best friend. I’m glad to finally meet you!” The boy bowed respectfully, with an adorable smile.

Oh, Katsuki had found a nice boy?

“Boyfriend!” the blond growled, “He’s my stupid boyfriend!” he repeated making Kirishima blush, but his glare was trained on her. As to dare her to say anything.

Mitsuki carefully smiled to Kirishima. He had never seen her son warier and more protective at the same time, she didn’t want to let him misunderstand not even for a second. Not this time.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kirishima-kun. I don’t know how this brute won you over, but I’m glad you’re here. Come, Masaru had just finished preparing lunch. Do you like curry?”

She led the way as Kirishima chirped how he loved it, but she glanced at the way Bakugou seemed to relax a little and sighed in relief.

They entered in the kitchen as Masaru was washing his hands. He quickly dried them with the apron and smiled gently to Kirishima, who looked almost surprised at the man’s appearance; Mitsuki had to hide a smirk: she loved how people thought Bakugou had taken his horrible personality from his father and then remained shocked to discover it was quite the opposite.

“I’m Masaru, Bakugou’s father. It’s nice to meet you, Kirishima-kun.”

“The pleasure is mine!”

The boy bowed once again, but now his smile was even more relaxed. Poor thing, he must have been so anxious. Mitsuki could remember how nerve-wracking she’d felt when meeting Masaru’s family, and she was nowhere near as nice as Kirishima.

“Let’s seat! It’s still warm!”

“Thank you!”

Bakugou quickly sat by Kirishima’ side and his parents in front of them; Mitsuki caught sight of his hand giving a last squeeze before letting Kirishima go.

The lunch went on smoothly.

The usual banter between Bakugou and Mitsuki never escalated, Kirishima was more than happy to talk for everyone and keep the mood light, and Masaru was ready to fill the awkward silences or cut the occasional tensions.

“…and so, as soon as I suggested Momo would be better than him at tutoring me, Ka-Bakugou immediately offered. Well, more threatened me than anything.” Kirishima finished his story, making the couple laugh wholeheartedly as Bakugou muttered curses against the palm of the hand.

“You fucking asked for it, Shitty-hair!” Bakugou bit back, with a smirk.

Even though she could say there was not an ounce of malice in his tone, her heart almost stopped at the nickname. Memory from the past flashed in front of her eyes. Her shoulders tensed.

“Brat!” she almost growled, slamming the hand down, “What are you calling your boyfriend? Haven’t you learned how to respect other people? It’s already a miracle he’s bearing you and you call him like-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Katsuki yelled back, explosions crackling from his palms; the red eyes were already burning with flames, “Shut your mouth, old hag! You don’t fucking know anything about me and Ei-”

“Katsuki!” Kirishima interrupted them even quicker than Masaru. He elbowed gently his boyfriend’ side, “She’s still your mother. Not cool.”

Bakugou snapped his head towards him, ready to chew him up too, but as soon as he met Kirishima’s stern and clear eyes he stilled. Under the couple’s flabbergasted stare, his rage slowly…dimmed. His features softened, the coldness melted.

“She-”

“Still not cool,” Kirishima rebutted with a grin, stretching a hand to catch Bakugou’s, “And I’m fine. Don’t worry!”

They held the gaze for few more heartbeats before Bakugou sagged into the chair.

“Whatever…” he grunted in the end, turning his head to the wall.

Whatever.

To anyone else that could have seemed nothing, if not annoying, but Mitsuki knew what it means: Katsuki was surrendering, he was willingly letting an argument go in favor of someone’s else. And he wasn’t even pissed about it, just as if Kirishima had been right about he said… Mitsuki had always counted every “whatever” said in that sighing tone as a personal victory.

She couldn’t believe someone else knew that too, but there he was that red-head boy, barely hiding a soft smile as he gazed at the blond.

Kirishima turned to Mitsuki.

“Ah, please don’t worry Bakugou-san. I can tell when Bakugou’s words have no bite, nor real mean intentions. It’s just his way of addressing people, me and the whole class are used to it. We don’t care, nor we are hurt. He has also improved a lot since our first year.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes but said nothing.

“Besides,” Kirishima’s tone was now teasing, and he winked at the woman, “He’s using those names because he’s too embarrassed to call me anything else. When we are alone he calls me Sun-”

“EIJIROU!” Bakugou slapped a hand over Kirishima’s mouth, horrified, “Don’t you dare, asshole!”

The other laughed amused, not even remotely scared of having an explosive hand pressed to the face.

“Sorry, sorry…” But he didn’t sound sorry at all.

Mitsuki started giggling without realizing, and it almost startled the boys.

Kirishima seemed content to hear her chuckle, while Bakugou simply stared at her with an unreadable expression.

“Kirishima-kun, you’re an incredible boy. I’m really happy to have you here.” Her heart hadn’t felt so light in days. Masaru squeezed her hand as she smiled earnestly at Kirishima.

He gaped.

“…you have the same smile,” he blurted, turning to Bakugou.

He frowned, annoyed.

“We don’t.”

“You do. But it’s okay, I find yours cuter.”

“Do you want to die, Shitty-hair?”

The rest of the lunch ended peacefully.

When Mitsuki stood to clear the table, Kirishima hurried up and stopped her.

“P-please let me do it! I already intruded you and with such a short notice!”

She flicked his forehead.

“It’s fine, my husband cooked, not me. I can-”

“I insist!” Kirishima repeated, biting his bottom lip. He seemed to be debating if it would have been ruder to let it go or insist more.

Katsuki decided for everyone.

“Let him do, old hag. He won’t stop feeling bad for it, otherwise.”

“Hey!”

“And you?” Mitsuki couldn’t help but ask.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, “I’ll avoid he destroys our kitchen,” he mumbled, before nudging the other boy, “Come on, I don’t want to spend the afternoon washing the dishes.”

“I’m not that bad!”

“Please don’t get me started, Hair-for-Brain!”

Without anything to do, Mitsuki walked to the living room almost in a daze. Masaru was seated on the couch, reading one of his favorite books, and she plopped down next to him.

He glanced at her, amused.

“What?”

“He…” Mitsuki said quietly, “…is different.”

Instead of prodding, Masaru realized his wife was lost in thinking and let her be with her mind until she was ready to elaborate. However, after ten minutes, she stood up again and silently walked to the door kitchen.

She had left it ajar and couldn’t stop herself from peeking it.

Mitsuki felt so… curious.

She didn’t exactly know that Katsuki. A protective, wary Katsuki who also wore a soft expression. A Katsuki whose lips were always pulled in a faint, almost invisible grin when nobody looked. A Katsuki who wasn’t watching only at himself anymore.

She wanted to see him more. It was fascinating. It filled her heart with… joy? And pride?

Inside, Kirishima and Bakugou were standing near the sink.

The red-head was vigorously washing the dishes that then passed to the blond, who dried and put them away; they seemed to be talking animatedly, or at least Kirishima was, Bakugou mostly nodded and listened, making small comments from time to time. But Mitsuki could tell he was attentively listening.

At some point, Kirishima must have said something funny or stupid, because Bakugou scoffed and tried to hide his laughter behind the hand, but it didn’t work well. His usual stern or scowling expression was nowhere to be seen as he clutched his stomach and let his voice booming freely, cheeks slightly red and eyes tingling with amusement.

Whatever he may have said, Kirishima seemed deeply embarrassed and his face was completely red. He tried to make Bakugou stop by smacking weakly his shoulder, but the other boy was laughing too much, so he decided to sport a cute pout.

When the blonde realized, a lazy, teasing grin replaced the laughter as he leaned against the counter. Kirishima made an attempt at averting his eyes, but it was clear how pulled by his boyfriend he felt. Bakugou grabbed his t-shirt and made him stumble closer, before placing his hand behind Kirishima’s neck and bringing him down for a heated kiss.

Ah, too much.

Mitsuki retread few steps, guilty as if she had just pried into a secret, private moment. Her back collided with something and she jumped, caught by surprise.

“They make a good couple,” Masaru murmured, gently wrapping an arm around her waist. She relaxed against his chest.

“Uhm,” she agreed with a small nod, “He’s changed.”

“For better?”

“For better. Don’t you see it?” she scrunched her nose, making him chuckle.

“I do see it, I just wanted to hear you say it.”

Mitsuki glance at him, confused.

“Do you know why he has changed?”

“…because he has met great kids and teachers who have been able to help him mature.”

“Exactly, so it has been a good idea, hasn’t it? Sending him to the dorms, no matter how much it hurt and made you feel like you were running away from your problems. You took the right choice. Nothing to regret or torture yourself with anymore.”

Oh.

Mitsuki blinked.

Oh.

“I… took the right choice.”

“Yes, I’m glad you did.”

“I-I’m glad too.”

Something in her heart was melting, she felt as if a weight was falling from her shoulders.

She had taken the right choice for her child, she had done something good. Even though she wasn’t the main reason for his changes, even if she hadn’t done anything more than saying “yes”, even if all she had managed had been recognizing she couldn’t do nothing for him and trust someone else, it was something. A small step.

“You can be proud of it,” Masaru said, reading her thoughts.

“Oh, shut it!” She wiped away the small tears who had escaped her control.

He chuckled and left a kiss on her forehead.

“We can be proud of him.”

“…’ve always been,” she muffled begrudgingly, much to his amusement.

“Yeah, but you had never let yourself say it aloud. Don’t you feel better?”

She just shrugged and turned to hug him as she hadn’t done in a long time. Those stupid teenagers in love were making feel her young and in love once again, how annoying.

Her romantic moment was interrupted by Katsuki’s outraged scream.

“ARE YOU A FUCKING IDIOT?!”

Instinctively, Mitsuki slammed the door open. Mom’s instinct.

“What happened?”

Bakugou didn’t even notice her, focused on examining the hand of his boyfriend between his, while the red-head seemed so embarrassed he could die.

“You can fucking harden! How the hell did you manage to cut yourself?”

“You were distracting me!”

“Than fucking put the knife down!”

“Katsuki!” Kirishima whined, but Bakugou smacked lightly his head, “I’m fine!”

“You’re bleeding!” he growled, before turning to Mitsuki, “Old hag, help him wash the cut while I go to search for the band-aids! Dad, are they still in the same place?”

The blond stomped out of the kitchen like a hurricane.

“Ah, no…” Masaru stuttered, “We moved them…” he added, tailing his son.

Mitsuki, still perplexed, reached Kirishima and stretched a hand.

“Can I?”

The boy groaned but let her look.

Mitsuki snorted, “It’s such a small cut.”

“I know!” Kirishima sighed, a palm over his eyes, “But he says I’m irresponsible because of my quirk and always gets stressed when I’m hurt. I’m sorry for the fuss.” He seemed genuinely troubled.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she waved it off. Mitsuki still couldn’t believe it was her son had just got so worried for someone else.

“I should have paid attention, but we were joking around…” he explained with a faint blush. And even though he seemed embarrassed, his eyes shined with fondness at the thought.

“…you really love him.”

“What?”

Ah. The words had slipped from Mitsuki’s mouth.

“I… said you really love him.”

Now, Kirishima’s face was the same color as his hair. But his gaze didn’t waver.

“Y-yes, ma’am. I-I really love Katsuki.”

“Why?” That was what worried Mitsuki, the real question.

Kirishima seemed taken aback and frowned.

“Why?”

“My son is… difficult. He has issues. And treats most people like dirt,” she explained, crossing her arms as to defend herself from those red eyes that seemed to bare her.

Mitsuki didn’t miss the flash of anger in his eyes, nor the way his jaw clenched, so similar to how protective Katsuki had seemed during the introductions, but he soon softened again.

“Katsuki is… complex, I know that. He’s foul-mouthed, has one of the biggest egos ever and doesn’t know how to interact with people other than competing,” he agreed with a bitter-sweet smile, “But there’s much more to him, isn’t it? The strength and passion that drive him, his pride as a man, all his vulnerable fear and insecurities that he tries to face alone, his will to become a hero…ah!” he chuckled, “That’s what made me fall in love. I’ve never met anyone who wanted to become a hero more than him, no matter how flawed he knows he is, no matter how hard it feels or what the world says. He’s willing to face all his demons if it means he can improve, and he’s ready to change. Katsuki is burning with passion, he just needs to find his way to convey it… properly. This hit me so hard. Only by being next to him I feel braver and stronger as if nothing could defeat us. Being worthy of his respect and love for me is… amazing. Even if I know he’s not perfect and even if I’ve seen all his ugly sides… I just love him. He makes me a better person.”

Mitsuki didn’t have words to reply, she stared silently at Kirishima, who grew more and more fidgety as the seconds dragged by.

“…glad.”

“What?” he stuttered, panicking.

“I’m glad you are the one he loves. And I’m glad you love him back. You see the best in him… thank you.” Mitsuki’s voice was so quiet as she spoke, looking at the ground.

Kirishima felt the urge to hug her but had already learned how to deal with a Bakugou and stopped himself.

“You don’t have to worry, ma’am. A lot people are beginning to see it too. Bakugou is not alone anymore, you know? We’ve made a lot of friends! I’ll bring them to you if you want to know them! But don’t worry, he’ll be fine!” Kirishima reassured her with a toothy-smiled

She had to force herself not to cry.

What a special boy her son had found. He had completely seen right through her, hadn’t he? Better than what she had ever admitted to herself.

“I’d love to, Kirishima-kun.”

Bakugou chose that moment to barge back in the kitchen, armed with a first-aid kit, Masaru behind him.

“I found it! Uh? What’s this?” he asked suspiciously as he moved the gaze between the two of them.

Mitsuki and Kirishima exchanged a glance, before chuckling.

“Gossiping,” the woman replied with a teasing smirk.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes.

“She had promised to show me your childhood photos!” Kirishima added with a bright smile.

“What? No fucking way!” Bakugou protested marching to him with the disinfectant already in hand.

“Please, Katsuki!” Kirishima begged with his best puppy-eyes.

“I’ll go searching for the albums!” Mitsuki left the kitchen with a laughter.

“I think I have some videos…” Masaru mumbled quietly.

“Dad don’t you dare!”

When the time to go came, Kirishima had nearly been adopted by Masaru and Mitsuki. Not that Bakugou would have ever doubted his boyfriend’ scary ability to befriend even inanimate objects, but it was still a relief.

And… his mother seemed happy. Genuinely happy. He hadn’t seen her like that in a long time, right?

“Thank you again for the hospitality!” Kirishima bowed for the umpteenth time before Mitsuki pulled him into a crushing hug.

“I’m the one who’s happy, Kirishima-kun! You’re really a wonderful boy, feel free to hang here whenever you want.”

“Alright, alright!” Bakugou was losing his patience and roughly dragged his boyfriend away from his mother’s arms, “You have said it already ten times! We’re going to UA, not the fucking north pole! Stop being so dramatic!”

Kirishima laughed, letting the blond manhandle him.

“Goodbye again! I look forward to the next lunch together!” He yelled cheerfully as the other pushed him out of the door.

“Fucking move, Shitty-Hair!”

Once he had finally sent him away, Bakugou turned to his parents.

“I’ll be going…” he said awkwardly.

“Stay safe, and call more often,” Masaru patted his head with a sigh. He really would have liked to stay with them a little longer.

Bakugou shrugged but didn’t protest.

He moved as to open the door and leave but stilled.

He turned to his mother instead.

“Thank you,” he murmured so quietly Mitsuki almost feared to have imagined it, “Eijirou really cared about this, but I too am happy you met him. I’m glad you like him.”

Katsuki was meeting her eyes, and there was no hidden disappointment. No anger. No fear.

He was there honestly revealing his thoughts to her.

Almost vulnerable.

For a heartbeat, it almost sent her mind in a frenzy. She wasn’t ready, she wasn’t used to it.

Her brain was already pushing out an automatic, snarky reply as always when she felt vulnerable or lost, but she bit her tongue.

Katsuki had improved. He had done his best to grow.

Mitsuki had to be worthy of all his efforts.

“You really don’t deserve someone as good as him, try not to scare him off.”

“Of course we like him. He’s the best boy you could have ever met,” Mitsuki replied with the same quiet honesty.

Katsuki showed a small smile, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I know,” he scoffed, “That’s why I chose him.”

“Maybe I could adopt him instead of you, brat.”

“I would have never expected less. Look at you, Katsuki, all proud of your boyfriend! I can’t wait to call him my son-in-law,” she teased, making him blush.

“MOM!” he burst.

She laughed hard, happy and so relieved at hearing him calling her mom.

“I hope to see you soon! Kick some ass and show the world your resolve, brat!” She threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug, ruffling his head.

“That’s what I always do, old hag! And we’ll come back, stop nagging and let go!” But he made no real attempt at shoving her away, letting her enjoy the moment.

When she finally stepped back, he simply nodded and walked out of the door. Kirishima was waiting on the walkway and started waving enthusiastically as soon as he saw them.

“Goodbye!” he yelled to them as the couple waved back.

Bakugou muttered something under his breath and grabbed him by the hand, quickly pulling him away. Soon, Masaru and Mitsuki remained alone, looking at the sunset.

“See? You didn’t mess up.”

She turned to him with burning eyes.

“I didn’t mess up!” Mitsuki cheered, and, seeing her shining, proud smile, Masaru remembered why he had fallen in love with her in the first place.

“You two are really similar,” Kirishima mused as he and Bakugou walked toward the dorms, hand in hand.

The blond scoffed yet didn’t deny it.

“Horrible personality. Messed up.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes. Those two were really similar.

“Complex. Fierce. Scared to love and yet so full of passion. You have your issues, but both of you are fighting, right? I really admire that. You make me want to give my best too!”

Bakugou halted and turned to stare at him, eyes wide open.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Sure!”

“…How can you say things like this without getting embarrassed?” he growled, blush creeping to his cheeks.

Kirishima chuckled sheepishly, scratching his nape.

“I just say what I see…”

Bakugou gazed his face, almost tempted to search for a lie even though he knew there wasn’t one, before sighing.

“’Guess you really see it.”

“One day you’ll see yourself like that too, I’m here for this.”

“Fucking annoying.”

“But you love me!”

Bakugou chuckled, but leaned closer, “Yeah, I fucking love you.”

And shut his boyfriend with a kiss before he could blurt more embarrassing truths

Alright, this is all thekiribaku ‘s fault( I love you so much and I’m so happy we’re friends! I really hope you’ll enjoy this) merit: she sent me this freaking beautiful fanart by the incredibly talented @taro-k, saying that it fitted my one-shot perfectly AND THAT WAS SO TRUE. IT JUST BROUGHT BACK ALL THE FEELS I HAVE FOR “TILL DEATH DO US APART”! I’m not afraid to say that it’s probably the story I love the most among all those I’ve ever written. This is totally self-indulgent, I just had to let all these headcanons out of my brain, to satisfy my need of “more”. And I apologize for making our lovely boys suffer more, but happiness is a fight and they’re willing to go through it all to gain it. So don’t worry, they are and will be fine, but I just needed to address all the issues that their “Happy Ever After” would have entailed.

KiriBaku “Till Death Do Us Apart” Headcanons, Anxiety and Traumas, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmates, True Love

-Even if they are finally together again, things are not easy for them. All the memories of their past lives are there, continuously mixing up with the present and sneaking behind them in the most unexpected moments, mining their present. They have to learn to deal with fear, loneliness, pain and a weight they would have liked to forget.

- Sometimes Bakugou feels so suffocated being a normal teenager, without being able to go on adventures, without his kingdom to protect and guide. He feels so vulnerable without his explosions, his senses now duller than before. He can’t but help but feeling frustrated and getting the spasmodic need to fight. Fight and win. It has always been a routing for him during high school, even before remembering: no matter how hard Kaminari and Todoroki tried, he would always manage to throw himself into a meaningless fight. Only Kirishima can finally make him stop getting into street/school scuffles, and, together, they decide to go hiking as soon as Bakugou starts to feel restless.

But Kirishima is the one who has it worse. He is so… human now. His body feels small, unfamiliar, weak… He can’t turn into a dragon, he can’t fly anymore, but he remembers all of it, how it felt soaring the sky and playing among the clouds. And when the memories hit him, he falls into a sort of apathetic trance as if he couldn’t see the world around anymore; he searches for high places, like the rooftop, where to stare at the sky he once owned, much to the fear of his friends who powerlessly see him going numb. And it always takes all of Bakugou’s patience and affection to bring him back to the present: he has to let the red dragon vent it out, scream in pain and anger as he mourns his loss, as he accuses Bakugou of not knowing what it means for him to be caged in that body and then apologizes between the tears because he would only like to forget but he can’t. Only between his arms Kirishima feels grounded again.

-Bakugou, especially during the first years, can’t bear being separated by Kirishima, as if he could disappear again in a blink, vanishing like one of his memories. Obviously, still being teenagers who live with their parents and attend different schools, they have no choice. They adapt, continuously texting about the stupidest things just to remember each other they are there. And when they are together, Bakugou is physically unable to stay away from Kiri, always keeping an arm around his waist or his shoulders; he can’t stand having other people touching him, even if with time gains enough self-control not to growl to Kiri’s friends. And even if Kirishima, before he remembered, has always let his friends draping on him, now he doesn’t have the heart to scold Bakugou too much when he kicks them away, because he feels the same desperate need as he does.

-When Bakugou loses Kiri in a crowd, he has a breakdown, immediately screaming his name and running around unaware of his surroundings until he has found him again and pulled him to the chest.

-Kirishima is terrified of darkness and solitude. It feels like… dying again. He can remember the crippling fear of leaving his King behind and venturing alone into a realm of shadows. He can’t sleep at night until he’s exhausted or has taken some pills to knock himself out. However, Bakugou comes up with a better solution: he calls his boyfriend every night, talking of everything and nothing until he hears Kiri yawning; at this point, he starts humming soft lullabies to make him fall asleep peacefully.

If there’s a blackout or Kiri wakes up in the middle of the night and realizes he’s alone, in the dark, he has a severe panic attack. It happened more than once that he was so out of it that his parents had to call Bakugou and beg him to come and help their son, who was raving about him being dead. Panic attacks seem to be the most common manifestation of Kiri’s anxiety and fear.

-Kaminari and Todoroki are obviously curious as to why their best friend suddenly disappears every day instead of hanging with them; it’s not like that Bakugou could tell the whole truth, so he avoids the topic as long as he can, but they bother him so much (Kaminari at least) that his tongue finally slips and, at the umpteenth “Who are you meeting?” he absentmindedly replies, “My Soulmate.”

Hell breaks loose.

At first, they are incredibly suspicious, but an hour after having met Kirishima they are absolutely in love with the sunshine boy and shockingly convinced that Bakugou was telling the truth. They don’t know how it’s possible, but they only have to look at how they move and interact with each other to realize that, indeed, they are Soulmates.

To Sero and Mina, Kirishima’s best friends, takes more time to warm to Bakugou, due to his abrasive personality, but they can’t fake not to see the adoration in his eyes when he looks at the redhead or the way they seem to be able to breathe only when together.

-Even if they can’t legally marry, Bakugou buys a pair of (cheap) rings as soon as they are both eighteen and proposes during a cozy home-date, just them watching an action movie as they cuddle on the couch. It’s not as beautiful as the betrothal necklace was, but Kirishima accepts all the same with tears, broken “I love you”s and a smile that could light the whole city, so, in the end, Bakugou is satisfied the same.

They both put them on a necklace and wear it every day.

-When high school ends and they move in together, things start to improve: their wounds slowly heal, they learn how to control their memories and keep them out, how to live and enjoy the present. They become able to live their lives separately without being constantly anxious when apart, to hang out with their respective circles of friends without the other, to spend the lessons without texting continuously.

-This doesn’t mean is everything peaches and cream. They have petty daily fights as much as serious, heavy quarrels that put their relationship in danger. Even if most would say Kirishima is the most insecure one, always feeling not enough for someone as great as Bakugou and fighting with his anxiety, is the latest the one who starts the serious arguments, who overthinks everything.

The worst one happened during a peaceful night, after a silent dinner. Kirishima had already noticed something was wrong with Bakugou but wanted to let him space and time to approach the issue on his own. All had started because Bakugou had crashed a birthday party to which only Kirishima had been invited, by chance. At that moment, he had realized something he had always known but never admitted aloud: Kirishima Eijirou, the human Kirishima, was great. He was great as much as his past life was.

But Bakugou? What had Bakugou become?

He honestly couldn’t say the same for himself, couldn’t he? From King of the East to a cold, stubborn, aggressive teenager.

The thought had started to devour him from the inside until that night, as they walked to the bedroom together.

The words slipped easily from his mouth.

“Let’s break up.”

Kirishima froze, turning slightly.

“What?” he blurted, red eyes blown wide in horror.

“Let’s break up,” Bakugou repeated with his eyes fixed on the ground.

“A-are you mad? D-d I do something? We- we can talk about-”

“You wouldn’t love me if it wasn’t for the past, Eijirou. Don’t you see it? You’re a fucking ray of sunshine!” His words were like a cold shower to Kirishima, who gaped, but the blond didn’t see his heartbroken expression. He clenched his fists and continued, pain seeping through his tone, “You would have never fallen in love with me if it wasn’t for the past. The normal, human you would have never considered loving me. You would have probably despised or pitied me. Do you realize how much you’re fucking losing by staying with me? This is so fucking maddening! I saw you, I saw the light you’ve always had in you! But I’m not the same anymore, you’re just conditioned by your memories to love me! All- All of this! Makes no sense! I’m just- fuck! Robbing you of a happier life! You have to forget it all, forget and move on!” Bakugou let out a hollow laughter, raising his hands to the ceiling, “Let’s break-”

The slap hit him square on the cheek, echoing in the silent room.

Bakugou blinked, shocked, and finally met Kirishima’s gaze. He was trembling, hand still raised, and his red eyes shined with tears.

He had never, never hurt Bakugou outside of a sparring match before. Never.

“Take it back,” he hissed.

“Eij-”

“TAKE IT BACK!” He screamed grabbing this t-shirt and pulling him forward, “TAKE IT FUCKING BACK!”

Bakugou was so surprised by the pure, desperate rage that lighted his eyes, that only nodded. He hadn’t even noticed that silent tears were spilling from his own eyes.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered as guilty and fear made him regret ever opening his mouth.

Kirishima crushed against his chest, hiding the face in the crook of his neck and holding onto him with all his strength.

“This is not fake, this is not forced! I love this Katsuki as much as I loved my King! No matter what- no matter what, I love you! So never say it again! Never say we should break up! Never!”

“I’m sorry, Eiijirou…” Bakugou repeated, wrapping his arm around him, letting his fear and pain flow. “I’m sorry…”

“You said it, don’t you dare forget, Katsuki,” Kirishima sobbed, “There’s no God of Death who could ever pull us apart. I will still love you through the next hundred lives.”

“I’m sorry,” Bakugou begged again, “I love you, I love you, Eijirou.”

-They find the painting while they’re strolling in town, and it’s love at first sight. Kirishima, even if he can hardly gaze away, is a bit unsure about buying it because of the price, but Bakugou is adamant. He needs that, that’s how they should have been remembered, that was what he was glad he could still see in his mind. 

Them. It’s them. Bakugou Katsuki, King of the East, and Kirishima Eijirou, the Red Dragon. Together.

After a lot of bargaining, Bakugou manages to have to owner promise to save it for him and starts to work part-time to afford it, under his boyfriend’s back. Obviously, Kirishima is not an idiot and discovers it pretty quickly: in a week he’s able to get hired in the same café as Bakugou, who can hardly hide his happiness behind snarky remarks.

They manage to buy the painting just in time for Christmas and hang it in the living room, where they can see it daily. Every time one of them is home alone, especially as they grow older and have different schedules or business trips, the other would spend as much time as possible in front of the painting. Eating, sleeping, working or lazing around under its shadow as if it was a sort of charm; even talking to it, as if their partner could hear them. And when loneliness and fear crawl into their hearts, anxiety chokes them into the dark, and memories of blood, solitude, and death flash in front of their eyes, they can just look at the painting and remember the happiness they used to share during their past life, that they’re together again, and that a whole new life of joy and love awaits them.

@chonideno writes beautiful stories

This picture is inspired by one of them

BIRTHDAY BOYOOO #切島鋭児郎生誕祭2018 

Forgot I can post stuff here as well, so I’m a little late

hoping to get back to the drawing scheme and like properly try to improve (not this tho lol its a cool down sketch but im attempting to make finished illusts )

happiness prompt for eijiroctober

also for eijiroctober for the hair prompt

a couple of sketches i got to squeeze in for this year’s eijiroctober, sad i didnt get to participate much but that was around the time i had a new job and i got SUPER busy ugh

full comic for krbk hanami zine! hope u like it

The bakusquad as an alt band yey ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ