﹒₊‧sero Is The Perfect Boyfriend For Introverts Who Don't Like Expressing Their Feelings. You Rarely

rating how good of a boyfriend they would be

(in high school bc pro hero thwm would allll get A+'s)

sero hanta gets an A+. look; he's focused on becoming a pro but compared to these other two he isn't like "this is my only path in life" & "i must succeed or i'll be a life long failure" and type of focused. there are times when he can't spend the whole day with you because of studies abs training but it's never a consistant streak. he always makes time for you before the day ends and it's a lot longer than these other too... there aren't a lot of times where sero messes up in relationships. he's very observant and calculated in how he reacts to situations , especially when you're involved.

izuku midoriya gets a B-. ok. this broke my heart to say but... high school izu wouldn't be the best boyfriend. because if it came down to it he would chose hero training over you 9.5/10 times. which is a sad thought but... i mean come on this is his absolute dream, he'd be beyond stupid to slack off and risk it over someone in high school. (bc i'm sorry but majority of hihi school relationships dont last.) now that's the minus part...the B is a mix of that AND because when he isn't training ? his time is with you 100%. when he starts dating you hw makes it a mandatory thing to have lunch and dinner together, at least, as well as studying with you, at the end of the day he texts you that he's taking a shower and ask if he can sneak over to your dorm or if you can come to him in 5-10 minutes. izuku let's training take up majority of his life, but he always makes sure he has at least an hour with you at the end of the day. he'd even risk getting caught by awizawa just to sleep over .

bakugou katsuki gets.... a C+. OK this is because i think it'll be VERY unlikely that he will date someone in high school. he is WAY too committed to becoming a pro. so if you do date bakugou in high school, get ready because that either means he doesn't care abt you at all and just felt pity, or he so deeply belives in your love for him that he can basically disregard you and tos still be waiting for him. Basically that means he is stupidly in love with you and y'all will bet married bc you are the love of his life. bakugou isn't like midoriya in the sense that he spends EVERY second he isn't training with you. bakugou needs his alone time. and as an introvert, it is basically impossible for us to recharge with someone even in the same room. so in high school at least, time spent with him would be maybe 30 minutes a day. HE DOES however always make sure you guys eat together. it's his love language. so actually around 1 hour and a half.

pretty baby (e-42 miles x black! fem!reader)

— car rides with miles nvr fail to make u queazy

— ⚠️: light cursing, slightly suggestive, slight angst, kinda sensitive reader

"you are unbelievable, y'know that?"

sitting in the car scrunched up with your legs close to your chest, you turned your whole body away from the driver's seat, trying to avoid any and all contact with the driver. after what happened today, you didn't think you could ever face miles again, too embarrassed to talk to him the entire car ride.

"it wasn't even that big a deal baby, i'm sure nobody even cared like that," he chuckled. he thought it was childish how such small moments could affect your mood for such wildly long periods of time.

"I sucked the syrup off your fingers miles, in front of all your friends. i'm humiliated!" you cried, putting your hands over your face and bending down into your lap; anything to avoid eye contact with him.

looking back at the road with a smirk on his face, he said, "if it makes you feel better, I didn't mind it..-"

"MILES!" you whined as you snapped your head in his direction. "how could you say that to me right now?!"

"oh– ok i'm sorry baby, but that doesn't mean you have to act like this-!"

you rolled your head back as you groaned and covered your face with your hands again; he didn't get it. the way you were perceived was extremely important to you, especially in front of people who you deemed important. you didn't want your boyfriends' friends to perceive you as some sort of sex fiend.

"just drive miles. you don't get it."

furrowing his eyebrows, he turned the block and pulled into a mcdonalds parking lot near your house. "then make me understand, hm? why are you letting this stupid shit affect you?"

"oh my god miles just take me home, please I don't wanna talk about it–"

"no, see 'cause now you have my attention, what's the matter?" if there was one thing you knew about miles, it's that he won't let shit go, especially when it comes to you.

"miles, i swear to god if you don't drive me home i'm gonna get out this car and walk," you threatened. you could feel tears begin to form in your eyes and the burning feeling you get in your gut when you're about to cry. miles noticed your chest rising and falling, a telling sign you were about to cry; this only pushed him further.

"you not goin' nowhere. not until you talk to me, so here's what we gon' do; we will sit in this car and we won't move until you start talking," he said as brought his hand up to your face, wiping the tear that escaped your waterline before it could drip and ruin your makeup.

your face scrunched up at the small gesture and you pressed your lips in a tight line. suddenly the burning feeling burned even hotter, and the saliva in your mouth began to increase. more tears slipped from your eyes. in a soft yet pleading voice, you asked, "please, can I just go home?"

he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at your state and it was then he could tell this was a real problem. "ay baby.. eres mi vida. talk to me," he cupped your face with both of his hands as they caught the tears falling. with your face smushed in his hands, he leaned in to give you a smooch, not caring if your lipgloss got all over him– he just wanted to see you smile for him.

"I don't want them to think badly of me miles.. they all looked at me funny and were cheering when I did it. I humiliated myself in front of them," you spilled, not wanting to keep it in anymore. and to be honest, it felt weird crying in your boyfriends' hands and not into your pillow alone in your room.

putting his forehead to yours, he said, "hey, look at me; you don't always have to worry about impressing everybody. everybody don't matter, you understand me? only me and you, ok? ion' wanna see you crying over some pinche pendejos who don't got they own girls and haven't matured since middle school."

you giggled softly as you sniffled your nose.

"there's that pretty smile," he mumbled as he gave a kiss to the top of your head.

"my pretty girl…”

you could feel your face get warmer after what he said, the indication, that big yet subtle word “my” sticking out to you like a sore thumb.

“what, you like that? like when I call you that mi vida?” you knew he would never let you live this down, and this would be one of your many nicknames he would use on you to get you flustered to his own advantage.

“shut up—”

“what, you don’t wanna be my pretty girl?” he inquired whilst leaning back to look at you, feigning disappointment.

“of course I do miles-”

“then lemme hear you say it chiquita— c’mon I wanna hear you say it,” he said sounding very suave. you grew weak in the knees whenever miles deepened his voice while speaking to you, and he definitely used this to his advantage. thank goodness you we’re sitting down because lord knows if you were standing, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together without bending over backwards for him.

your eyes wandered to anywhere else in the car, not wanting to see the look on miles face when you said what you were about to say, “i’m your pretty girl.”

“yeah, I know that’s right.”

– i wanna be his pretty girl so bad lol

CONGRATS ON 100!!! :DDD

AHHH TY LOVLEY !! :))

Makki is crying on the couch and you aren't sure how to respond.

Hands folded over his heart and phone clutched between them, Takahiro squeezes his eyes close as tight as possible and lets the tears just flow. His whole body heaves with silent sobs, ribs expanding and constricting arrhythmicly as anguish contorts him, flushing the skin of his cheeks a dark, splotchy red. Misery overwhelms him from head to toes and he just lets it happen, crying midday and midapartment.

You open your mouth to speak, but only a squeak of a sound comes out.

"Hiro?" You manage to say on your second try.

"Hey!" He scrambles to sit up straight, wiping the wet from his cheeks with his thumb. His voice is snotlined and jagged, even as he tries to sound chipper. "Hey! What's up, baby?"

You slink closer, hands knotted behind your back. "You okay?"

"Me? Pst, yeah. Totally." Makki shrugs and smiles, the wet of his eyes still threatening to roll over. "Just chilling."

You tilt your head and he understands the motion; Hiro pats his lap and you close the gap between you to slide into it, legs over his and hands finding his cheeks. They are still warm and wet with tears, gritty with their salt. His cheeks puffy out as he forces a smile for you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you try. He shrugs again, face scrunched up in a playful pout, then lets the facade crumble. Shoulders fall as he nods and he lets his bottom lip quiver.

"Just missing my mom." His eyes are red against his strawberry blonde hair.

"Oh, Hiro..."

You aren't really sure what else to say. It's not like there's anything you could say to make it better.

You never knew his mother and you never will- something that Makki has lamented to you before. He insists that she would have loved you, maybe even more than he loves you. She would have loved the apartment, loved the ring Makki bought you, loved the list of babies' names that you two may or may not ever use.

"I got an ad for perfume." Makki says after a long while. There's a lift to his voice, as if he finds whatever he's saying to be silly. "Mom used to wear this awful perfume towards the end. Smelt like a fucking cheap hand soap."

He laughs midsentence, tripping over his words. "And she wore so much of it that when she hugged me, it'd just cling to my clothes for hours. My sisters and I hated it. Oh my god, we tried to come up with excuses not to hug her but she always fucking got us anyway."

When he laughs this time, it's more of a shaking exhale, caught somewhere in between misery, melancholy and amusement.

"I really want one more stupid, stinky hug from her," Makki whispers. "Just one more."

You know it's not the same, but you wrap your arms around him anyway and squeeze, scrambling to hold as much of him as you can.

The fact that it took Velma 2023 to make people realize be cool scooby doo was good

I’m sorry but Miguel is a clingy ass bitch like you think his trauma from losing his family TWICE won’t make him clingy? I’m talking about monitoring your every move to the point it’s almost creepy

choso was a full-grown man.

a man who takes cares of his brothers, is employed, and pays his taxes. a man who can share his ideas and his thoughts with professionalism and skill. a man who can admit when he’s wrong, who can let his resentment go for the better.

so imagine his confusion when he acts like nothing but a developing teenager when you were around him.

he truly felt like his body had relapsed back to puberty. he can’t control his sweat around you, he’s switched his deodorant three times before finding something long lasting enough (although he barely spends more than a couple hours around you a day, if even that, and yet he still manages to produce so much sweat—). he can barely make eye contact with you without feeling his face grow hot (shooting down his neck, goodness, he has to fan at his face soon or he'll start sweating and he just showered for you—), a tremble in his hands, a trip in his words. the sentences that so ridiculously tumble out of his mouth are ineligible and humiliating, as if he forgot every single word he’s ever learned.

he talks to himself often.

whether it’s him walking on the way back home from your hangout, or when he’s alone at work, choso talks to himself. he walks alone and speaks your name out loud, a small awkward smile on his lips (even hearing the splendid name from his own throat dusts his cheeks pink.). he rants and analyzes how physically impossible it was for anyone to be as lovely as you. frustrated muttered outbursts of his incompetence around you. questions about if he was normal, if what he was feeling was normal (he concluded no.). these thoughts are too much to be confined within his mind, overflowing so much at the seams, he was afraid he would accidentally speak them aloud to you. so, he verbally lets them out when he’s alone, before his mouth gets the best of him. he never feels further from sanity when he talks to himself. but since it’s about you, well… it makes him feel better pretty quickly.

he writes about you.

talking to himself and thinking about you only helped him so much. he still feels a nervousness in his chest, needing to convey these feelings in some other form. so, he started scribbling little notes about you on napkins at restaurants and cafes, soon throwing them away; but he soon garners a deep hatred for this. anything that reminds him of you, anything at all, whether it be from his own hand or out in the world, has to be cherished. If not, what sort of insult is it to you? so, he buys a notebook. it’s a small one, black and dull, pocket sized so he can write about you whenever he so pleases. the first few entries are sloppy and messy, hurried so he could get the thought out before it slips his mind. but he soon grew a hatred for this as well. even thoughts written about you must be written with such a delicacy and care, even though you’ll never see it.

012324

When you look at me,

I forget that this world is capable of hatred and misery.

How could a being so light and pure,

Exist next to a miserable soul such as I?

the more i write about choso the less i feel i should be walking the streets as a free citizen. put me in a padded room, im not okay

kisses him softly

the boys of class 1A love to go to kirishima for advice

older brother’s best friend suna is so annoying !!!

like you come home to find him lounging in the kitchen with a bag of chips and he shoots you a look, asking “what are you doing here?” and you’re stuck there flabbergasted because the last time you checked, YOU lived here!

or how he has absolutely no regard for your personal space. he’ll plop down next to you on the couch and spend exactly .23 seconds being normal before he’s laying his long ass body down across the length of the couch and shoving his feet all over your face.

somehow the even more infuriating breach of personal space than feet in the face is when he crowds up behind you in the kitchen during another one of your parents family dinners, leaning down — his head almost resting on your shoulder — to reach into the fridge that you’d been scouring. not so much as apologizing as he grabs a bottle of beer and leaves.

or when you’re both hanging out in your brother’s apartment one night in college — YOU’RE house sitting for him as he visits his girlfriend, you don’t know what suna’s excuse is — and you’re on the couch just flipping through tinder. suna pokes his head over your shoulder, encouraging you to swipe left on every guy that you see for various reasons. “too scrubby” “he’s lying about his height” “is that a fish”. until you stumble across his profile — it’s barely even that, just a picture of himself and a short bio + some details. and the two of you sit there silently for a second until you cough and laugh breathily, breaking the ice by telling him what a shitty photo he chose. (you close the app as you tease him, though he doesn’t miss how you don’t swipe.)

or when he gives you tickets to his game against MSBY, explaining them away like “i had some extra ones” “your brother said he couldn’t make it” “i know you’re busy with school, just wanted to get them off my hands”. but has the dumbest grin on his face when he sees you in the stands. and after EJP wins the match, he heads straight over to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders emphatically and preening about how “you came just to see me ?? you like me or something??”

(“that his girl?” washio asks, nodding to where you and suna stand by the edge of the gym. suna’s face is lit up like a christmas tree, and although you’re rolling your eyes at whatever he’s saying, your smile is no less wider.

komori opens his mouth. closes it. opens it again “i-“. closes it. and then he settles for a shrug. “don’t know, honestly.”)

will bug you at 2am over text with offers of gamepigeon and trips to the nearby 24hr ramen place because he knows you’re awake and whether it’s through text or in person, though you win at 8ball every time, he relishes every second of the time he can get with you.

who stands on the balcony of his apartment with you at 11:58pm, a new year’s eve party in full blast on the other side of the sliding glass doors. his suit jacket is tossed over your shoulders and there’s snow in his hair and yours. you clink your champagne glasses at 11:59 and as the clock reaches midnight you lean up on the tiptoes of your heels and kiss his cheek. “happy new year, rin.” who wraps an arm around your shoulder and tugs you to his side, kissing your temple. “happy new year, scrub.”

who avoids your brother’s knowing gaze when they’re out with their friends and someone asks who’s texting him — his phone having most of his attention that night as you give him your live reaction to the show you’re watching. he replies “no one, it’s nothing” and your brother’s eyes narrow a bit — teasingly, appraisingly, knowingly— and the weight of it hangs between them for the rest of the night, though neither of them breach the subject again.

brother’s best friend suna who goes abroad for the olympics. who visits you before he goes — your apartment a quick stop on the way to the airport. you make him a cup of coffee and talk about everything and nothing, and he can’t tear his eyes off of you. you ask him if you can drive him to the airport but he shrugs and sets his cup down, claiming he doesn’t want to be a bother.

whose hugs are usually so obnoxious — big, bone crushing things where he practically lifts you off your feet, his arms enveloping your entire body — but today he hugs you softly at your front door, his head resting on top of yours for a few moments before he pulls back and smiles down at you, his usual snark returning with a goodbye of “don’t burn the place down while i’m gone”.

who knew that you had long since exited the realm of just being his best friend’s little sister but doesn’t realize what exactly you are to him — what he wants to be to you — until he’s home again and the adrenaline has worn off. your brother drags him into the house for a welcome-back dinner and although he’s over the moon to see your father and mother again, as they are him, his eyes dart around, looking for you.

and when he hears your voice (calling out “who’s at the door?”) and sees you at the top of the staircase, his heart feels like it stops. it only jumpstarts when you’re in his arms suddenly, barreling down the stairs and throwing your own around his neck as you laugh.

and he knows.