Shit, your teacher Bakugou idea is something I never considered but now think would be really cool. Cuz he would not stop being a hero but he wouldn’t half-ass being a teacher so it would be like how All Might attempted to hero and teach but could actually work. Plus, I’m all for Bakugou’s role model switching with time to Aizawa. 10/10 idea.
OMG Fran now i want to see Teacher or Older Bakugou or or Bakugou with Aizawa
Bless both of you for giving me a reason to talk about this cause honestly I love this idea way more than striktly necessary - this!!! is how I like to think it would go down:
Harry kicked open the door unceremoniously, chucking his jacket in the general direction of their coat rack.
“Draco!” Harry repeated when he got no response, and he looked out at their tiny apartment. No Draco.
Yet the lights were on.
Harry tried to ignore the dread settling in his stomach. He and Draco had just moved in together, and he wasn’t ready to overwhelm his new boyfriend with his overprotective, probably PTSD related behaviour yet.
But, when Draco still didn’t answer after he called for him a third time, he threw all that caution in the wind and started running through the apartment, yelling Draco’s name as if it were a powerful accio spell.
“Harry,” he finally heard, Draco’s voice coming from the locked bathroom. It sounded off, though - broken, as if Draco was crying.
“I’m here,” he breathed, putting his hand on the door as if that might calm his heart down, beating frantically in his chest. “Can I come in?”
Silence. Then, “No.”
Harry sighed, his patience wearing thinner every passing second. “Draco, please. Open the door for me.”
He knew Draco could be difficult. They hadn’t been dating very long (they had yet to see the other naked) and the years of animosity between them tended to make things a little awkward between them sometimes.
But god damn them all if Harry wasn’t all-in to make this fragile new relationship between them work - to make him and Draco Malfoy work. (He had always had a stubborn streak, after all.)
Finally, finally, finally the lock clicked, and Harry didn’t hesitate to slam the door open and barged in.
Only to stop dead in his tracks.
For Draco, wonderful, beautiful Draco, was staring at him, wide-eyed and cheeks stained with tears, his arms clasped around his bandaged chest, as if wanting to hide it from the world.
“Oh,” Harry breathed out, “Draco, are you hurt?”
Draco bit his lip and shook his head, looking down to the ground in shame.
“Your chest,” Harry went on, his ears ringing. Draco was hurt. “Who did this to you?”
He laughed, but it sounded hollow. More like a sob. “No one. Well, technically, I did.”
“Why?” Harry grabbed Draco’s hands, squeezing them tightly before slowly drawing them away from his chest. “Why did you do this, love?”
Draco jerked at the nickname, as if slapped, and his cheeks flushed an angry red. “Because you’d hate me if I didn’t,” he bit out finally, his voice dripping with venom.
Harry snorted, unable to help himself. “I could never hate you. Not now,” he added at Draco’s incredulous look.
“Trust me,” Draco went on, yanking his hands back.
“I’d trust you with my life.”
“That would mean a great deal more if you also hadn’t said that to your choco pops this morning.”
Harry barked a laugh. “That’s not fair, I was hungry! And sleepy!” Draco snorted. “For real, though, Draco,” Harry went on, his voice more serious again. “Why do you bandage your chest -”
“Because, you idiot, without it I won’t be a boy.” Draco took a very deep breath, and pointed at a package of pills on the sink. “I’m trans. I was born a girl.” He couldn’t look at Harry, his eyes frantic to look everywhere, as if he wanted to run far, far away from there, and his hands were balled at his side. “My genitalia aren’t… I’m not a boy, down there.”
“Oh.” Harry smiled at him, reaching out to grab Draco’s hand again. “Okay.”
Draco’s head whipped around to look at Harry again, his look incredulous. “What? Just, ‘okay’?”
Harry nodded, smiling wide. “Yes. Why would I care what’s hanging - or, not hanging - between your legs? I fell for you, Draco. Not the technicalities of your gender.”
“Oh.” His eyes were shining.
“Yeah.” Harry pulled Draco’s hands up to his lips, and kissed it softly. It felt liked the simplest thing in the world. “You feel like a boy, so you’re a boy. We’re dating, and I very much intend on continuing to do so.”
“Oh,” Draco repeated, his voice slightly breathless, the tears running down his cheeks again. “Harry,” he began, “I… I think I -”
“I know,” Harry’s voice was so soft, “Me too.”
And then Draco smiled at him, wide and happy and real, and Harry was very sure he was never going to leave him. Not if he had any say in the matter, anyway.