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Midoriya Izuku hated being trans. The people who say being trans is a choice, clearly have no idea what's it like to be stuck in the wrong body. Izuku wouldn't wish this on his worst enemy.
Izuku also had the dilemma that he didn't believe in gender roles and sometimes presented himself as feminine, even though he was still very much a boy. But what did being a boy even mean, girls and neutral people could still very much be masculine and still be girls or neutral. Sometimes he felt like he was advertising the gender roles he didn't believe in by being a boy. He hated the whole concept of gender and how it mattered so much to people. He just wanted to exist, but he just felt the most comfortable being referred to as a boy. Even if being a boy didn't actually mean anything.
Izuku let out a sigh. He thought about gender and what it actually means so much, but no matter how much he wished, he couldn't make people understand. Instead he was stuck in a society obsessed with labeling people, but who was he to say he was any better, he labeled himself too. Kami, he hated society and gender.
Instead of overthinking some more, Izuku decides to finally get up, it was summer vacation so he didn't have school, but he should still get up and maybe go for a run, he should ask if his dad wanted to join. In theory his dad was just his uncle, but after Izuku's mom died when he was five and her brother took Izuku in, Aizawa Shouta had been very much Izuku's dad.
With a sigh Izuku looks in the mirror, he is definitely having a bad dysphoria day. All the features that revealed he had been born a girl seemed so much more prominent. He had been on testosterone gel for a few months (he was seriously afraid of needles), but he hadn't seen any changes yet.
He was so frustrated he could never get rid of his breasts because he was afraid of surgeries. He had tried watching some videos about people's top surgery journeys to ease himself to the idea, but he had almost fainted, surgeries were his worst fear. So those were off the table, instead he was going to live the rest of his life with double D sized balls of fat hanging from his chest. He had binders (thank Kami his dad was his number one supporter and didn't hesitate to spend any amount of money to make him more comfortable) but he hated using them during the summer (binder sweat was seriously disgusting) and they didn't bind his big chest perfectly. He had tried trans tape, but his chest was just too big. So he was stuck to sports bras for the summer, but right now he was willing to go through the pain of binder sweat, his dysphoria was just so bad.
So with that thought he takes out his nude binder and puts it on, putting a t-shirt he stole from his dad on top of it, the shirt huge on him, but big clothes helped with dysphoria.
Honestly he'd love to wear all kinds of pretty clothes, but his dysphoria wouldn't allow it, honestly if he was cis, he'd probably be a femboy. He always felt so much gender envy when he saw those pretty cis boys on the internet, wearing crop tops and skirts and makeup. If gender roles didn't exist, maybe he'd be more comfortable expressing himself, but instead he was stuck on society's expectations on what boys should be like.
“Buddy, you up?” his dad asks from behind the door, cutting Izuku's train of thought.
“Yeah, coming in a second!” Izuku calls back, while taking a pair of balled up socks and putting them inside his boxers.
“Okay, do you want me to make you some breakfast?” His dad offers, he had been careful to make sure Izuku eats after the boy had developed some eating issues in a desperate attempt to cure his dysphoria. Izuku was better now, but he still had bad days, so his dad made sure he always ate at least something.
“Yeah, toast is fine”, Izuku replies, taking a pair of sweatpants from the floor and putting them on.
“Sure”, his dad answers and leaves. Izuku puts his socks on and leaves his room.
“Did you sleep late?” his dad asks while handing Izuku his toast.
“Nah, just a bad dysphoria day” Kami Izuku hated how high pitched his voice sounded. Usually he tried to speak from his chest and not from his head like the voice training videos suggested, but he forgot more often than not.
“That sucks kiddo, let me know if there is anything I can do to help, okay?” his dad reminds. Izuku knows his dad feels really helpless in these situations, he wishes he could help more, but there isn't really anything they can do.
“Yeah”, Izuku replies with a small smile.
(and if they spend the whole day cuddled on the couch under a blanket, watching cooking shows and joking around, no one has to know)