#class 1 a

Bakugo claimed the largest couch as his territory, sprawled with a protein shake in one hand and a permanent scowl, snapping at anyone who got too close.

Jiro lounged on the floor against the couch base, her earphone jacks plugged into a portable speaker pumping low-fi beats that somehow cut through the noise.

Todoroki sat in the far corner like a statue, steadily eating cold soba from a thermos as if it were a meditative practice.

Uraraka moved through the crowd with easy grace, using Zero Gravity to float trays of snacks and drinks to people without them asking.

Tsuyu perched on a stool, offering her usual straightforward commentary on everyone’s post-graduation appearances and new scars.

Iida navigated the groups with rigid posture and chopping hand gestures, attempting to direct conversations into orderly topics and failing spectacularly.

Mina darted everywhere in a blur of pink, her acid Quirk carefully contained as she hyped up the energy.

Tokoyami stood near the window, arms crossed in classic edgelord fashion, murmuring something about the “abyss of reunion” to no one in particular.

Aoyama sparkled—literally—with upgraded hero costume elements that caught the light dramatically.

Ojiro’s tail flicked thoughtfully as he chatted with Shoji, whose multiple arms balanced plates and cups with effortless multitasking.

Hagakure’s invisible presence was marked by floating accessories and excited gestures, while the rest of the class filled every available space with loud stories and laughter.

You and Izuku arrived hand-in-hand a little after the initial rush, drawing immediate attention. You had always been one of the more popular members of 1-A—quick-witted with a dry, sassy sense of humor that could deflate tension or roast someone affectionately without crossing into cruelty, balanced by genuine kindness that made people seek you out during tough times. Izuku, even as a top-tier pro hero whose strength had only grown with mastery of One For All, retained that core nerdy essence: the muttering analysis, the earnest enthusiasm, the notebooks (mental or physical) filled with observations. His frame was broader and more scarred now, his presence steadier, but the shy rub at the back of his neck when all eyes turned to you both was pure Deku.

“Finally! The power couple graces us with their presence,” Mina called out, rushing over for careful hugs. “You two look way too put-together after what I heard was a brutal week of joint patrols.”

“Missed you too, pinky,” you replied with a grin, voice carrying that signature dry edge. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of planning reunions full-time.”

Izuku smiled warmly, green eyes bright. “Sorry we’re a bit late. The villain we wrapped up had a stretching Quirk that made containment… complicated. But we’re here now.”

The catching-up phase kicked off in earnest. Kirishima launched into a vivid retelling of a recent mountain rescue where his Hardening had saved a group of hikers but left him coated in rock dust for days. “It was super manly, but man, the cleanup!” Sero kept interjecting with tape-based puns that earned groans and laughs. Bakugo grunted occasional insults about “weak villains these days” while secretly listening to every word, his sharp mind dissecting strategies even at a reunion.

Jiro shared stories from underground hero work, her music gigs often doubling as intel operations. “The beats help, but some nights it’s just chasing leads through sketchy venues.” You caught her stray thought—wonder if Reader’s telepathy would make stakeouts easier—and shot her a wink. She smirked back.

Todoroki’s contribution was characteristically blunt: his agency had handled a string of cold-case investigations, and he mentioned a sidekick who challenged him to a soba contest only to regret it immediately. “He lasted twelve minutes,” Todoroki said flatly, sipping from his thermos. You sensed his quiet contentment beneath the stoicism—these people still feel like home.

Uraraka floated more snacks your way, her round face lit with genuine happiness at seeing everyone. “My rescue ops have been picking up. Less punching, more lifting people out of rubble. It feels right.” Tsuyu nodded beside her. “Ribbit. Practical. You’ve all grown into your strengths.”

Iida attempted to moderate a debate between Kaminari and Mina about the best agency perks, his engine legs idling as he chopped the air. “We should focus on shared experiences rather than competition!” Kaminari just laughed and zapped a small spark for emphasis, earning a tired sigh from Iida.

You moved through the groups effortlessly, dropping dry comments that landed perfectly—“Bakugo, if you scowl any harder you’ll strain something important”—while offering real compliments on new techniques or personal wins. Izuku fell into easy analysis mode, muttering under his breath about Quirk evolutions he’d observed in recent fights, occasionally launching into mini-speeches that you gently reined in with a hand on his arm and a teasing, “Save some nerd for the baby books, Izuku.”

The energy built comfortably until a natural lull hit around the time snacks had been decimated and stories overlapped into comfortable silence. You caught Izuku’s eye and gave a small nod. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a slightly creased ultrasound photo, the black-and-white image clear under the room lights.

“Before we dive any deeper into old times,” Izuku began, his voice carrying that steady hero timbre mixed with unmistakable nervousness, “we actually have some news to share. Personal, not hero-related.”

You leaned into his side, keeping your tone light and warm. “We’re having a baby. Fourteen weeks along. Surprise.”

For a split second, the room went pin-drop silent as the words registered. Then it erupted in a wave of pure, unfiltered excitement.

Mina’s scream was ear-piercing in the best way. She rocketed across the room but pulled up short, hands hovering excitedly near your shoulders. “A baby?! You two are actually doing this?! Oh my god, I’m going to plan the most epic, acid-free baby shower in history. Gender neutral? Themed? Tell me everything!” Her mind raced with color schemes, games, and how many onesies she could buy in one shopping spree.

Uraraka lifted several inches off the ground, hands pressed to her cheeks as happy tears welled up. “This is incredible! A little combination of you both… I’m already the best floating aunt. Do you have cravings? Morning sickness? I can bring you whatever you need, anytime!” She floated a fresh water bottle your way immediately.

Tsuyu tilted her head, her expression soft and sincere. “Ribbit. Congratulations. Raising a child is no small thing, but your balance will serve you well. One analytical, one perceptive. The baby won’t lack for guidance.” She was already mentally noting safe water-based activities for future playdates.

Kirishima’s grin threatened to split his face. He clapped Izuku on the back with controlled strength. “This is beyond manly! A whole new hero in the making! You gotta let me be the uncle who teaches solid fundamentals—how to stand tall, take hits, keep pushing. I’m so hyped for you guys!” Protective instincts flared alongside ideas for toddler-friendly workout mats.

Sero whistled sharply, shooting tape to string up an impromptu banner that read “Future Hero Incoming!” in messy letters. “Deku as a dad is something I never knew I needed to see. Bet the nursery has labeled drawers for every possible Quirk scenario.”

Izuku flushed but laughed, rubbing his neck again. “I might have started some preliminary notes on development and potential inheritance factors. It’s all very early stage—”

You cut in with a kind, sassy nudge. “He means he has three color-coded notebooks already. I confiscated the fourth last night when he tried researching third-trimester hero costumes.”

Kaminari nearly fell over laughing, sparks popping in his hair from excitement. “Reader’s keeping the nerd in check even now! This kid is gonna be quick and unstoppable. Free babysitting from me—electric uncle duties include safe static electricity demos.” He pictured teaching bad jokes and playing catch with rubber balls.

Iida shot to his feet, posture perfect, hand chopping with enthusiastic precision. “This is a significant life milestone! We must discuss comprehensive plans immediately—parental leave coordination across agencies, childproofing standards for hero equipment, educational resources starting from infancy. I have compiled several relevant documents over the years for situations exactly like this!”

“Iida, we love the dedication, but maybe not tonight,” you said warmly, smiling to soften it. “We’re still wrapping our heads around the first trimester.”

Bakugo had stayed uncharacteristically quiet, staring hard at the ultrasound photo when it reached his end of the couch. His scowl remained, but it lacked its usual venom. “Tch. You damn Deku finally knocked up the telepath. Kid better not be a weakling with all our genes in the mix. Don’t screw it up.” It was as close to warm approval as Bakugo ever got. Internally, he was already considering reinforced baby gear resistant to small explosions.

Todoroki approached with his usual measured steps, studying the image intently. “The baby has a strong outline already. Do you think it will manifest your telepathy or Midoriya’s stockpiling strength?” His heterochromatic eyes flicked between you both, genuinely curious and almost gentle. “I can provide temperature-controlled environments if needed during visits.”

“That might come in handy if it inherits your half-and-half situation,” you replied kindly. “We’ll put you on the emergency soba-and-bottle list.”

Tokoyami nodded solemnly, cloak shifting. “From the union of perception and unyielding will emerges new life to face the eternal dusk. May the child wield both shadow and insight with balance.” It was high praise in his language.

Aoyama struck a sparkling pose. “Magnifique! A shining new star joins our constellation. I will design the most fabulous, light-reflective nursery accents. The baby shall dazzle from day one!”

Ojiro’s tail swished happily. “Congrats, you two. You’ve always been solid together. The kid’s going to have great role models for balance and strength.”

Shoji offered several thumbs-ups with his extra arms. “We’ve all got your backs. Extended family support is guaranteed—no matter the Quirk or challenges.”

Hagakure bounced in place, invisible but unmistakable. “Eeee this is the cutest thing! Tiny hero booties and capes incoming. I’m going to knit invisible accessories!”

The reactions poured in from everyone, the room alive with overlapping congratulations, questions, and laughter. You handled the influx with your usual grace—sassy deflections for the overwhelming bits, kind acknowledgments for the heartfelt ones—while Izuku beamed beside you, his strength evident in how calmly he answered the more analytical queries about due dates and agency adjustments.

The rest of the evening dissolved into joyful chaos. More food appeared as if by magic. Old games were suggested and half-played before devolving into storytelling. Denki tried (and failed) to start a karaoke round. You caught endless stray thoughts through your telepathy: Midoriya’s mind a whirlwind of protective plans and name possibilities, Mina’s excitement bordering on frenzy, even Bakugo’s gruff internal pride. People came up in smaller groups for quieter talks—Jiro offering music recommendations for pregnancy relaxation, Kirishima asking seriously about support needs, Uraraka promising floating help with nursery setup.

Hours later, as the crowd began to thin with patrol schedules looming, you and Izuku slipped away for one final stop at UA’s faculty lounge. Aizawa was slumped at his desk, looking as exhausted as ever. Present Mic lounged nearby with headphones half-on, and All Might sat with a cup of tea, reviewing notes.

Izuku pulled out the ultrasound photo once more, setting it down carefully. “We wanted you to see this too. We’re expecting.”

Aizawa’s eyes sharpened on the image. He stared for several long seconds. “…You’re serious. The problem children are reproducing.”

Present Mic’s headphones clattered down. “WHAT?! Little Deku and Reader making a mini-listener?! This is monumental! When’s the due date? I’m spinning tracks at the shower, no question!”

All Might’s face transformed with pure, beaming pride, eyes shining. “Young Midoriya… Young Reader… This is beyond wonderful. A new symbol, a new generation. You’ll both raise them with incredible hearts and strength. I’m so proud.”

Aizawa leaned back, rubbing his eyes but with the faintest hint of a smile. “Don’t overthink every detail, Midoriya. Kids are chaos enough without extra analysis paralysis. Reader, keep him sane.” Despite the dry delivery, the underlying care was clear. The teachers passed the photo around, their initial disbelief giving way to warm, seasoned congratulations from people who had watched you both grow from students to heroes.

You rested your hand lightly over your bump as you leaned into Izuku on the walk back, the night air cool. The reunion had been loud, surprising, and exactly the kind of supportive chaos only Class 1-A could deliver. The future stretched ahead—messy, heroic, and full of love.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧

A/N: "More" KILLED me. deadass. the bkdk was sooooo obvi. but I also love izuocha don't gmfu. the toga peep??? no...I cried so freaking hard

comments and likes are always appreciated!

"It's too early for this nonsense," You grumble. It's 8:45 in the morning, and usually you'd be trying not to fall asleep in homeroom around now, but instead you were outside, walking to the U.A sports stadium. 

You shrugged your gym uniform jacket tighter around you, teeth chattering from the frigid morning air. You agreed with the grumpy mutterings of your classmates, this 'sports festival' was simply a way to make the hero course students look good; it was their opportunity to appeal to hero agencies after all, to be scouted. It served no purpose to you, so why were you getting an anxious, giddy feeling in your stomach?

You'd always liked to win things, quizzes and scores- academic validation was your bread and butter, and you couldn't help but think of what a cool thing it'd be to win this entire festival- to sweep the gold medal from right under the noses of the top students. Were you maybe getting a little ahead of yourself? Perhaps.

The huge stadium soon came into view; the flashing lights and cheering of a crowd of at least eighty thousand invigorated that competitive spirit of yours. Okay, maybe you'd put some effort into the festival; unlike your classmates, a few of whom were planning to sit out or not compete at all, nonchalant Olympics indeed.

With all the first-year classes gathered, the festival begins with Ms Midnight, the R-rated hero. You and quite a few others can't help but avert your eyes from her costume with a blush. 

"It's time for the player pledge!" She says sultrily into the microphone, snapping her hand whip. "Representing the students is Bakugo Katsuki from Class 1-A." 

You squint, seeing a spiky mop of blonde hair make its way through the student crowd and onto the raised platform next to Ms Midnight. The red-eyed boy stares down the crowd before simply saying, "I pledge... that I will be number one." 

This is met with immediate booing and jeers from the students of the other classes. You can't help but scrunch your nose in irritation- yeah, you definitely needed to win now with this pompous brat declaring victory so boldly. You side-eye Class 1-A and find most of them mortified at Bakugo's words; it's a little funny that they don't want to be associated with him. 

"At least be a nice bouncey stepping stool for me." Bakugo offers a thumbs down before casually swaggering back to his place, ignoring the complaints of the other students. 

"Okay!" Ms Midnight chuckles, "Let's get started right away! This first game is what you'd call a qualifier. Every year, many drink their tears here." Man, they were really hyping this festival up, huh?

She continues, "Now, here is the fateful first game! This year it's... An obstacle race!" Oh, goody, a four-kilometre cardio session. How fun. Maybe you should've just stayed home. 

Nevertheless, you're kinda pumped up to really play now. You can feel your quirk beginning to manifest under your fingertips, and you start to stretch your arms and legs as you line up with the others in front of the starting line. The green lights begin to flicker off one by one until ... "Start!"

There's a mad rush into the tunnel. People are shouting, yelling, screaming, and you swear, you can see someone just snacking on a bag of chips. Yeah, no way you were going to make it out of here without several broken ribs unless you activate your quirk...

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MANA MANIPULATION! 

You can manipulate energy into tangible constructs: whips, platforms, shields, beams, and more! You can move these constructs however you wish!

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Your palms glow orange, and beneath you, a flat orange surface forms. You're 'Aladdin's magic carpet-ing' this bitch. You rise above the crowd, and just in time, a sheet of ice pervades the tunnel and freezes many people's feet to the ground thanks to the quirk of Shoto Todoroki.

Now, flying casually above everyone, you float over the obstacle course like you're in a pool floatie on a lazy river. It's times like these that you're grateful to have such a versatile quirk. If Hero Society weren't in such a state as it was, perhaps you would've considered being a hero a viable career choice...

You keep your distance from the front, watching as they deal with each new threat. You lie on your stomach, legs kicking idly as you weave through robotic obstacles and people. The Fall! More like 'the bore'. You easily float over the huge chasms in the earth, not minding the envious side-eyes from your peers. 

"And we've come to the last obstacle, it's a minefield!" Present Mic's commentary echoes overhead, "They're just for games, but they're loud and flashy enough to make you wet your pants!"

"Maybe just you." Is Eraserhead's dry response. 

You give the camera a thumbs-up and a quick grin as you pass it. You're not a part of the action up front, but not far enough behind to be out of the running.

Hey, even your classmate Shinsou Hitoshi had made it this far; that was pretty cool. First place in the obstacle course is stolen in the blink of an eye by a plain-looking boy called Midoriya Izuku; his clever manoeuvre of using the mines as a propellant sends him flying over the finishing line.

You finally make it through the tunnel and over the finishing line, deactivating your mana, you sigh softly and sit down, conserving what energy you have for the next task by taking a quick power nap. 

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