Guess who's been reading too many Good Omens fanfics and had to physically wrangle her writing style to try and stop it from reflecting That Style but fail miserably regardless-

Anyway uh. It's Izuku's birthday so I thought "okay so birthdays... cakes... satou. cool, neat, a chapter from the perspective of a character who has made No Impression on me, let's do this."

Take care of yourselves. Go to sleep if it's late. Eat/drink if you haven't in a while. Take a break if you've been working for too long. ily <33

Discord server, iffff,,, you've also sauntered vaguely into Good Omens hell- uh, heaven- uh, somewhere and want some friends to scream about it with: https://discord.gg/DSBF4dP

~

Satou Rikidou didn't necessarily stress-bake, per se; he just tended to find himself inclined to bake more when things were hectic. There were few downsides to baking with enough frequency that he could easily create many delicious desserts without even needing to measure the ingredients, but, well, he supposed that at least one downside was the fact that he tended to bake to match the level of unease, which could strike at any time.

For instance, at midnight, now surrounded by inordinate amounts of uiro that was probably enough sugar to end any normal person, let alone someone with a sugar-fueled Quirk.

Rikidou stared mournfully at another batch of the steamed cakes as he took it out of the microwave, transferring it into the mini-fridge under the countertop to cool and removing another batch, then placing it on the counter. He grabbed a knife and set about cutting the uiro into shapes, mostly triangles and rectangles, but with the occasional star or wonky animal attempt sprinkled in as the tired delirium settled over his mind. Another problem arose when he realised that he'd filled all the plates he had in his room, a display of colourful cubes piled high in elegant pyramids transitioning into vague shapes stacked precariously, emphasising the state of his mental capacity that had been dwindling dangerously over the hours.

His chocolate-brown gaze shifted to the cabinets next to the counter, where pots and pans sat temptingly behind black-tinted glass, potentially perfect containers for-

No, this was getting out of hand. The sugary scent was thick in his bedroom, and he padded over to pull aside the green curtains and crack open the door onto the balcony, just to free him from his sweet haze. Rikidou took a deep breath of fresh night air, standing in the doorway, large figure silhouetted in the yellow light filling his room.

He was just a little anxious about the upcoming work study, but a quick bake to counteract his feelings seemed to have snowballed out of control. Now, instead of fear, there was sheer dread, although for a different reason.

Slowly, he turned around. Bags of flour and sugar were open and slumped on the countertop, their predecessors hastily screwed up and shoved into the waste bin that was nearly full. Dusty fingerprints covered most flat surfaces, scrabbling smears on the edge of the countertop and microwave door. Plates covered every inch of the low table in the centre of his room, nearly completely concealing the yellow cloth beneath mountains of uiro, a few rogue stacks built up on the counter around the microwave and timer.

There was no way he'd be able to sleep with such brewed chaos staring him in the face.

The question was, how was he supposed to get rid of so much food quickly and quietly, without it going to waste by dumping it over the balcony and blatantly incriminating himself?

At any other time of day, it would've been easiest to just distribute it between his classmates, but since it was – Rikidou glanced at the clock above his bed and winced – half past midnight, and consequently much later than their largely-unenforced-but-if-Aizawa-catches-you-outside-your-room-without-a-good-reason-then-you're-screwed curfew, it was most definitely going to be a struggle. His safest bet would be to remain on his floor, which left Sero and Todoroki.

Last time someone – namely Kaminari – had tried to enter Sero's room so late at night, the shrieking had woken up almost everyone else in Class 1-A, who all rushed down to witness the guest wrapped up in tape like a fly, wriggling and trying to get his friend to free him. It took nearly half an hour for Sero to stop laughing hysterically at the sight, and it took almost twice that to actually cut Kaminari loose.

Rikidou didn't really feel like being a spectacle when he already felt so bitter about baking sweetness, which left Todoroki as the only viable option. They hadn't really spoken much, so he was hesitant to approach an unknown element, but...

The uiro was leering at him from every surface. Todoroki didn't seem so bad all of a sudden. He may come off a little cold and distant, but Rikidou had seen the boy open up more around Midoriya – then again, everyone was warm around Midoriya. It was hard not to be, in the face of such genuine kindness.

Plan in mind and tray in hand, Rikidou silently left his room, padding down the carpeted corridor to stand outside Todoroki's door. He shifted the tray onto one palm and raised the other to quietly knock, feeling a little guilty about probably waking up his classmate. A few seconds passed before the door cracked open, a bilberry-blue eye blinking at him cautiously before it was fully pulled aside. Despite the covers on the tatami bed being folded aside and wrinkles on the sheets implying the boy had just gotten up, Todoroki still looked – for lack of a better word – perfect. Not a single peppermint hair was out of place and his pyjamas weren't even slightly creased.

"What did you need, Satou?" Todoroki asked lowly, gaze flickering down to the tray and expression possibly growing a little confused; Rikidou really couldn't read his classmate at all.

"Oh, I... I made too much uiro. Way too much. I don't know what to do with it, so I was wondering if you wanted some?" Rikidou's voice was more pleading than he had anticipated, but the sweet treats were taunting him, and he'd never be able to sleep with so many...

"I see." There was a pause. Todoroki grabbed a pink cube and bit into it, expression entirely unchanged. "These are good. You could leave them in the common room kitchen: everyone would appreciate it, I think."

"I would, but I don't want to run into a teacher and be given detention," Rikidou explained nervously.

"Ah," Todoroki muttered, finishing off the snack and finally emoting enough to know that he was thoughtful. "I might have an idea."

He turned around and grabbed his mobile phone from his desk, squinting at the bright light that cast over his features before typing away. Rikidou remained in the doorway, throwing an unidentifiable-shaped uiro into the air and catching it in his mouth with expertise and precision formed from years of practise. The taste of green tea settled comfortingly on his tongue, and a tiny bit of tension drained from his shoulders.

Todoroki carefully put his phone back down and returned to his guest. "Izuku will be here soon. He's excited to help you out."

"Midoriya? Isn't he worried about getting in trouble?" As soon as the words were spoken, Rikidou realised the ridiculousness of them.

This was Midoriya, the kid who approached everything from fighting villains to teasing their terrifying teacher without a hint of fear or hesitation. And, somehow, also the kid who got away with being impossibly affectionate towards Aizawa without immediately being given detention, so of course he was the best choice to go on a harmless delivery mission.

Really, between his charisma, strength, and intelligence, Midoriya was likely the best choice for every situation. Rikidou probably would've been jealous if Midoriya wasn't also so endearing and honest – it was literally impossible to hate the boy who treated everyone and everything like they were the most precious thing in the universe.

"I think he'll be fine," Todoroki responded, a subtle rasp of dry humour laced in his tone as if he sensed his classmate's thoughts.

Rikidou dipped his head slightly, plump lips pulled back in a sheepish smile of agreement. A few minutes passed, slightly awkwardly, with the two of them standing opposite one another and picking uiro off the plates. The soft patter of footsteps made both of them glance down the corridor. Midoriya emerged, slumped, lazy posture straightening into something energetic, a bright grin casting across his features and his delicate paces picking up speed until he was next to them.

His emerald gaze locked onto the treats before flickering up to meet the boy's dark gaze, eyebrows raising in question. "May I?"

"Please," Rikidou said with a pitiful sort of laugh.

Midoriya's smile tilted sideways into something bemused, hand lifting to sympathetically pat his classmate's arm before dropping to grab a messy rectangle from the tray and place it into his mouth. His face lit up and he made a noise of appreciation, seemingly torn between chewing rapidly to say something or slowing down to savour the taste. Todoroki and Rikidou shared a look, equal parts fond and entertained.

He swallowed, looking up with freckles dusted like sugar over his cheeks. "Please marry me, Satou-kun."

An indescribable noise rose in Rikidou's throat, face feeling warm as he turned away. Todoroki gave a huff of laughter, rarely heard in any situations without Midoriya. Ashido probably would've killed someone to have had the honour of witnessing such a rare and beautiful event, but Rikidou couldn't think past how flustered he was.

"S-sorry!" Midoriya exclaimed, startled, but still keeping his voice down to not disturb anyone else. "That was too bold, sorry, I shouldn't have-" He dissolved into honey-sweet giggles. "It was a joke."

"Y-yeah, don't worry, I got that, it just-" Rikidou steadied himself, brave enough to face the boy once more. "It just took me by surprise, is all."

Midoriya's lips curved into something sly, countenance shifting smoothly in a way that suggested years of acting experience. He raised one finger to his chin, tilting his head and blinking mint-leaf eyes with faux innocence that put Rikidou back on edge, glancing nervously at Todoroki whose mouth briefly twitched into a smirk.

"Well, it was a joke, but... if you're interested, I wouldn't mind," Midoriya drawled coyly, leaning against the wall with one shoulder, cocky and confident in a way that was completely out of character.

"I-"

"Don't tease him, Izuku," Todoroki cut in, a certain amount of exasperation in his tone that implied this was a frequent occurrence.

Everyone in the class knew that something was odd about Midoriya, but those closest to him seemed to know enough to be able to take his peculiarities in their stride. Still, being one who wasn't in Midoriya's secret circle, he'd only ever witnessed Midoriya being battle-boldened or endearingly-innocent, yet the sudden, easy shift into a flirtatious persona made Rikidou wonder what else he – and half of the class – were missing.

"Sorry, Satou-kun," Midoriya apologised, instantly melting back to angel cake, soft and sweet and comforting, with only the mischievous smile to give him away. "Right, anyway, you wanted my help to distribute these? Is this all of them?"

Rikidou cleared his throat, feeling as if he'd just been given whiplash but trying his best to recover nonetheless. He stepped over to the door to his own room, opening it up and letting a warm waft of sweetness mingled with night air flood into the corridor. Midoriya ducked under his arm and peered inside, one hand pressing to his mouth and eyes squinting in a way that suggested he was about to burst out laughing at the sheer, absurd volume of uiro that filled the room.

"I got a bit carried away," Rikidou admitted, winning the prize for understatement of the year.

"Just a bit," Midoriya agreed, tone thick with restrained chuckles.

He stepped inside, turning on the spot to take everything in and assess the situation, then stared down at the piles of multicoloured uiro with his hands on his hips like a stern mother seeing what a mess her child had made. The boy hummed quietly, muttered words fading out of Rikidou's hearing as Midoriya contemplated how best to handle the situation. Rikidou backed up and returned to Todoroki's door, holding out the tray and motioning for his classmate to take the plate.

"For disturbing you," he explained apologetically, tucking the empty tray underneath his arm.

"Oh," Todoroki stared down at the plate of uiro in his hands like being given a gift was an alien concept to him. "Thank you."

Rikidou gestured vaguely towards the tatami bed. "You can go back to sleep, if you want. I think Midoriya has it covered. Thank you for the help, though."

"I do indeed," Midoriya himself interjected, smug face peeking out from the doorway.

Todoroki inclined his head respectfully for a moment, depositing the plate and placing one hand on his door in preparation to close it. "Okay. Goodnight, Izuku, Satou."

"Night, Todoroki."

"Goodnight, Shouto-kun!" Midoriya added, bubbly like- well, like bubble tea, already hidden back inside Rikidou's room. "Love you!"

Rikidou politely didn't mention the way Todoroki briefly faltered, almost shocked, before closing the door. He went back to his own bedroom, finding that Midoriya had already unearthed a few other trays that were stashed inside cupboards and had carefully slotted the plates onto them.

"I could've carried the whole table down, but that probably would've ended in disaster," Midoriya said without looking around, scarred hands grasping plates as delicately as spun sugar. "Would've been pretty funny to see me sprinting through the corridor with a table covered in desserts, though. I might've been able to confuse anyone who saw me by pretending it never happened and convincing them they dreamt about me for some reason." The boy held a tray in each palm as he stood up. "I'll deliver these to the common room kitchen. Be right back."

He trotted out of the room and vanished down the corridor. Rikidou felt a little guilty about making Midoriya do all the hard word, but he was still too apprehensive about potential punishments to dare follow his classmate. Instead, he busied himself with cleaning up the mess he'd made, pegging up packets and placing them back on shelves, then wiping down the dusty surfaces with disinfectant until everything was sparkling clean once more. By the time he was done, Midoriya had already transferred all the uiro out of the room, and the whole space seemed a lot more welcoming than before.

"Thank you so much, Midoriya, I really appreciate you helping out like this. I owe you one," Rikidou commented, a rush of relief replaced by the remembrance of the late hour.

"It's no problem, Satou-kun. What are friends for?" Midoriya responded, caramel smooth and reassuring, white mochi smile shifting into something private and gentle. "Are you feeling better?"

Rikidou paused. Had it really been that obvious, or was Midoriya just exceptionally observant?

He nodded slowly, running a hand back through his messy cinnamon-brown hair. "Yeah, I am."

"I'm glad," Midoriya whispered, gaze shyly flitting downwards for a moment before he locked eyes once more, unfaltering and intense, irises like green tea glimmering warmly. "Well, I'd better be getting back to bed. See you tomorrow, Satou-kun. Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams," Rikidou echoed automatically, slightly dazed, only watching as Midoriya padded away.

It was only when his friend was out of sight did Rikidou falter.

"Sweet dreams?" He repeated under his breath, brow furrowing, tone both amused and disgusted. "Was that a pun?"

~

Me at the start of this fic: okay i've gotta make sure that everything is Clearly Platonic so i don't invoke any shippers' ire-

Me now: but like... wouldn't it be funny if everyone was low-key in love with izuku... and he flirted with them whilst being completely oblivious to their adoration of him...

(don't worry it's staying gen i don't like writing romance, flirting just amuses me)