Orangebearie - Orange‘s Art 💛

A fun little request for today as we head into the holidays! Post timeskip Shinsou and Ojiro from My Hero Academia having a small snowball fight. I'm tickled at how much Shinsou looked like Aizawa now.

!! Lil Ojiro drawings !!

i just think they're silly

Underrated character appreciation post, Ojirou

I GOTTA DRAW HIM MORE HES SO SILLY

Omgoodness

Learning

@orangebearie For the Olive Garden 🫡

1k+

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During a friendly game of soccer, Hitoshi Shinso cheated.

Because he wanted to win? Not really.

Pregame, he watched from the sidelines as friends effortlessly gravitated into teams. He fully intended to leave - unless this was a ranked match, there was never a reason to include him - but before that could happen one of the captains approached him.

Smiling, hand held out like he was some kind of goddamn charity case.

“Because you’re a great player, Shinso,” she said, “even without your quirk.”

Even without your quirk.

One of the game rules was no quirks - that’s what she was trying to pass off her remark as - but the entendre wasn’t lost on him.

As he walked up to the field a hush fell, eyed averted. They were careful. But that was nothing he couldn’t work around.

During the second inning, an opposing shooter made a break for the goal. He flanked her, got a little too close, and at the slightest bump of their elbows, dropped to the turf for an Oscar-worthy performance.

“My LEG!”

The girl skidded to a halt, a look of utter disbelief. “Are you k-”

There. The referee had blown the whistle but her hand was already grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him up to her face, the other fist raised as though ready to strike him-

The whistle blew again, louder, and there was a rush to intervene. Shinso let her go and rose to his feet, ‘injury’ vanished.

The girl took longer to recover, and he watched with veiled fascination as the look on her face transformed from confusion, to realization, to panic.

The ensuing argument with the referee dragged on for minutes. Some were adamant that the girl would never have done that unless she was controlled, while others argued that Shinso’s god-awful acting right at the goalpost would incite anyone’s rage. 

Shinso blithely noted that he might as well have been nonexistent in the conversation.

In the end, both Shinso and the girl received yellow cards. But the opposing team’s momentum at the goal had been cut short, and there was a fierce tension looming over the arena.

And it was fear that controlled the outcome. A moment of hesitation at a pivotal kick, a flinch every time Shinso spoke, and it was enough to push his team to victory. 

He looked to his team after the final score, expectant, searching for the undercurrent of disappointment to their celebration. This was what they’d get for allowing him into their circle, and he’d relish their discomfort.

He’d be sorely surprised.

His team wasn’t stewing over Shinso’s betrayal of their trust. They were cheering for someone, hoisting him into the air like he was their prize horse.

Mashirao Ojiro.

His face was beet-red, from embarrassment or exhaustion Shinso couldn’t tell, hiding it with the fur at the end of his tail. Right, that 1-A boy - all these blondes looked the same to him - what had he done?

Shinso hadn’t paid enough attention to his teammates to notice anything exceptional. Was it not his little trick that gave them the winning edge? What had he missed?

He left for the lockers before anyone else could drag him into it. Gathered his things and readied to disappear until their champion, completely disheveled and hair mussed, stopped him.

Did he run here?

“Shinso,” Ojiro said, “Why did you come here before talking to our team?”

Why was this boy asking questions? Was he not going to jump into a long-winded sportsmanship lecture?

"Got somewhere to be."

“...You…” Ojiro glanced behind them, hand over his mouth. “I…wasn’t the happiest, either, when they cheered for me.”

Shinso said nothing, looked him in the eye.

Ojiro continued, flustered, “It’s not to say that I don’t appreciate them, I really, truly do. But a game like this. I see why it's difficult for you.”

This goody-two-shoes? Sympathizing with him? Whatever came out of his mouth next was sure to be confounding.

“I overheard our captain talking to you before the game. Everyone was trying to encourage me to join too: ‘You get your chance to shine now!’ ‘Your moment’s here!’ I know they mean well,” he laughed, exasperated, “but, you know. They were also telling me silently: ‘Only in a game like this will you stand out.’”

“Tell me,” Shinso finally said, “What did you do to make them cheer like that?”

“I hit the final goal.”

He remembered now, a flash of yellow and white. “...Did you not hit the one before that?”

“That one too.”

“....The first one?”

Ojiro hesitated, red creeping onto his face again. “....Maybe-”

“So that’s your advantage,” Shinso interrupted. “Your athletic training. You were the MVP, Mashirao. Not me. Is that what you came here to tell me? That honesty triumphs over lies? I don’t disagree-”

“No!” Ojiro said sternly, and Shinso was silenced. “You don’t have to use your quirk to cheat, Shinso, it also - how do I explain - feeds that learning part of you, too. When you play normally, you know, you feint, you divert - I rely so much on my own technique, I forget the opponent’s perception is just as important-”

Shinso’s disbelief multiplied by the second. Ojiro? Learning from him?

“Any good player can learn how to feint," he said, shrugging off the praise. "You might not stand out, Mashirao, but I will say this," - there was a hint of a smirk now- "your lack of born power made you a quick learner."

Ojiro returned the smile, small, earned. "...Yes. I'm lucky in a way. I wasn't defined by it. Maybe you don't have to be, either-"

Shinso's demeanor quickly returned. "So you don't approve of all my methods."

“Your cheating? No. But your technique? It helped me, it really did. I understand why-”

“Then you don’t understand.” Shinso scowled. Leaned in. If there was one thing he appreciated about this boy: he didn't sugarcoat. “You used your advantage. I used mine. Don’t put me on your team because you think you know me. Put me on your team because you want to win.”

Shinso used his language to unsettle and incite, but Ojiro showed no such relentment. He didn't flinch, his gaze set, and not once while they were alone did he acknowledge the threat of his mind being controlled.

He wasn't intimidated.

It unsettled Shinso in a way he couldn’t parse. He’d rather not. So he slipped away, where Mashirao Ojiro would never have to see his weakness again. 

Where the arena was bigger, much bigger, Shinso would try to break his misplaced trust forever.

tail

hello mha rarepair lovers. what if we tried to do a fanweek of sorts? like mha rarepairs week, so like any rarepair from mha goes. would anyone be interested?

MY BELOVED

Hey Bee. Can I pls get another Ojiro? I love how you always draw him so squishy.

Thank you. Here’s your boy .