#midoriya x bakugou | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zellaroonie · 13 days

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win to save, save to win

i know usually it’s the other way around, but I like to think they think of each other as the latter of their ideology when they look at each other :)

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bakuswift · 1 year

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Endeavour: What's wrong?

Midoriya: I'm in love with an insane blond who is completely out of my league.

Endeavour:

Endeavour: Well, that's embarrassingly relatable.

Shinsou: Yup.

Midoriya:

Midoriya: We should start a support club.

Aizawa, creating a groupchat: Way ahead of you.

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frostfires-blog · 3 days

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#2 BakuDeku

↪ MY TOP 30 FAVOURITE ANIME SHIPS × ROMANCE TROPES

ꕥ If you liked this post, consider supporting it here as well... ꕥ

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ryoukot · 7 months

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I wonder how John Cena is taking all this

#ifykyk #bnha 403 #mha 403 #bakudeku #bkdk #bakugou x midoriya #midoriya x bakugou

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milaham · 7 months

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Deku and Uraraka literally be like:

#bnha #boku no hero acedamia #mha #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #urakara ochako #toga himiko #bakudeku #togaocha #meme #bnha memes #midoriya x bakugou #ochako x himiko

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scftizuku · 9 months

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Daily reminder that Shigaraki said this about Bakudeku’s bond to Bakugo 🧡💚

I still can’t believe this was a canon line from the manga like the way that even Shigaraki himself can see how strong there bond is truly impressive

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lance-space-mommy · 19 days

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Cleaning Out The Refridgerator

Izuku never knew a life without his mother. It was always Inko and Izuku against the world. Izuku never once met his father Hisashi and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Inko was everything Izuku needed and without her being at the forefront of his life, he’d never become the person he was. It was all thanks to his mother.

Inko died at the age of sixty. It was out of the blue and she had died of a heart attack. Izuku was only thirty-five. The day he got the call his mother had died was the worst day of his life.

His hero work kept him busy and he rarely got days off. Whenever Izuku managed to get the time, he’d always have dinner dates with his mother. It was clear Inko had appreciated those little moments together.

They’d cook together, catch up on life, and just cuddle for hours. They felt like the time they shared always slipped away and those moments felt so short even if they spent the whole day together.

Izuku and Katsuki got married at the young age of 20. They didn’t want to waste a moment and desired to experience all life had to offer.

When they were sixteen, they watched the other die. They knew how fragile and short life could be. Death was promised and they wanted to enjoy the life they had left.

Holidays and celebrations were always a grand event. Inko and Mitsuki would often hang out together, but having their family members join them for a party was an exhilarating experience. Every day, every moment, was lived to the fullest.

Izuku could say there was so much more he wished he could have experienced with his mother, but he was satisfied with the time he did have with his mother.

It didn’t make things any better, but having no regrets was something that made Izuku grieve his loss without any guilt laced with it. Izuku could miss the amazing woman Inko was and miss his perfect mother.

For months, Izuku was inconsolable. Katsuki did everything in his power to help Izuku through Inko’s death, but he couldn’t imagine the pain Izuku was going through. Katsuki loved Inko dearly, but he didn’t know what it was like to lose his mother. Katsuki didn’t even want to imagine a life without Mitsuki.

It was a random Friday when Mitsuki had invited Izuku over to have some tea and talk. It was nice to just talk to someone who cherished Inko just as much.

Mitsuki was crying, hugging Izuku. “I ran out of her pickled daikon radish! I don’t know what to do!”

Izuku paused, feeling something click in his mind. Even if Inko was no longer with him, there was something she did that no random person in the world could mimic. Inko’s cooking and baking were inimitable. The only person on the planet who could make Inko’s recipe was Izuku.

Izuku pulled back, his hands resting on Mitsuki’s shoulders. “I’ll make you some!”

Mitsuki’s eyes widen, blinking away her tears in surprise. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Yes, I’d love to make it for you,” reassured Izuku, his face filled with an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Mitsuki seemed to melt, relief flooding her. “Thank you, Izuku. I can’t wait to taste it!”

Izuku grinned, quickly hugging Mitsuki again. “You won’t be able to tell I made it, trust me.”

The next day rolled around and a beautiful Saturday greeted Izuku. Izuku threw himself up and took over the kitchen. The windows were opened and the morning breeze lulled Izuku into a peaceful rhythm.

The sunlight warmed his skin, matching the warmth his heart felt while making the same food Inko happily prepared him when he was a child.

Katsuki walked over and instantly spotted the mess. Shaking his head with a small smile, Katuski made his way over. Wrapping his arms around Izuku’s waist, Katsuki pressed a tender kiss to Izuku’s temple. “What are you getting into?”

“Just cleaning out the fridge,” fibbed Izuku, knowing Katsuki wasn’t going to buy it.

“Sure and I’m not your husband,” remarked Katsuki, giving Izuku a gentle squeeze.

Izuku sat down the knife before turning around to hug Katsuki. “I’m making some pickled radish for your mother.”

Katsuki paused before a look of recognition crossed his face. “She’s probably over the moon knowing you can keep supplying her addiction. She’s obsessed with Inko’s pickled food for as long as I remember.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe I was so depressed I forgot that I can remake all the foods my mom made by heart,” chuckled Izuku, snuggling into Katsuki’s secure hold.

“Anything I can do to help?” questioned Katsuki, knowing the answer was going to be no, but he wanted to check anyway.

Izuku shook his head before pecking Katsuki on the lips. “Nope. This is quick and easy to make.”

Katsuki nodded before releasing Izuku. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Within thirty minutes, Katsuki heard a loud thumping in the kitchen. Rushing out, Katsuki watched as Izuku jumped in place, filled with excitement as he was chewing. Katsuki sank in relief upon witnessing the childlike joy written in Izuku’s expression and bouncing.

Izuku spotted Katsuki staring and quickly shoved the pickled radish into Katsuki’s mouth. Katsuki immediately could tell why Izuku was so excited. The crunchy yellow radish tasted exactly like the kind he had eaten his entire life. It was identical to Inko’s.

Izuku knew that if he kept making food that tasted identical to his mother’s, he’d never stop eating. If food was how he planned to keep his mother alive, he’d happily eat each meal like it would be his last.

“Good job, Izuku. It’s perfect,” complimented Katsuki, diving in for more.

“It’s so wonderful,” cried Izuku, following his husband's lead and eating more.

Inko may be gone, but for the rest of Izuku’s life, he’d never have to live a day without her beautiful, one-of-a-kind meals. Inko showed her love through food and Izuku would forever be grateful that homemade meals will forever be their thing. Even after death.