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[bloodshotstare]

//Blog closed

[bloodshotstare]

You're basically like a kitten to me, Shou. A little cat. My little neko meow-meow.

As pleased as this revelation made Shouta, he couldn't just admit it.

"I'm only 2cm shorter than you..." That said, he leaned his head on Hizashi's shoulder. If he was a cat, he would be purring up a storm now.

[bloodshotstare]

You're basically like a kitten to me, Shou. A little cat. My little neko meow-meow.

As pleased as this revelation made Shouta, he couldn't just admit it.

"I'm only 2cm shorter than you..." That said, he leaned his head on Hizashi's shoulder. If he was a cat, he would be purring up a storm now.

[bloodshotstare]

Well, just had yet another hella disappointing lunch. You've really ruined food for me, y'know that, Shou? I really just need to sit down and work on that Shouta flavored fired chicken recipe I been thinkin' about.

How was he supposed to respond to that? "As long as I'm not involved in that, knock yourself out, Yamada."

[bloodshotstare]

Some extra pokemon he swaps in on occasion are:

But he never swaps out Luxray, Arcanine, and Espeon.

[bloodshotstare]

Fun fact: Aizawa actually really loves bug Pokémon. The fact that they freak Mic out is just a perk.

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Who would be on Shouta's team in a pokemon AU?

//I've gone back and forth with this.

[bloodshotstare]

What with Shouta nearly dying and the war raging around them, sex had been the farthest thing from his mind the last year. Surprisingly, it appeared to be the same for Hizashi. Sure, he stayed by Shouta's side, held him close at night, as if fearful death would try to steal him away in the dark. But, the horror of everyday life seemed to cause their sex life to pause. Now, all the pent up feelings roared to life, making him realize how much he needed this.

The tongue-like tendril dragging over his hole continued up, just stopping under his testicles-- where another pair of wisps fondled him-- before repeating the action. Though the temperature was different, it reminded him of Hizashi and how he wished he was there too...

A small snort of laughter escaped at the continued flattery. He used to think the same of Oboro when they were younger. Towering, perfect physique, all covered tightly by deep, bronze skin... If anyone looked like a sculpture, it had been Oboro.

"Are you saying sculptures get you hard, Bo?" Even with his head turned to the side, a playful grin crept up his cheek, plain to see. "Remind me, ah, t-to never take you to the museum." Waving the comment off with a dumb joke was easier than flat out denying it like he used to.

However, the expression fell to something more serious when a cold hand cupped his face. Though the smile vanished, affection still glistened in his visible eye. Expecting an entirely different question after hearing the nomu release himself from the confines of his pants, Shouta froze up. Oh...

Well, he had wanted to remove it due to discomfort... but... Wouldn't it look less attractive? And he wouldn't be able to esca--

Wait. Why would he need to escape? Bo wouldn't hurt him. Nor would he let anything else harm him. Angry at his instincts for even suggesting it, Shouta nodded solemnly. "Right. It will j-just get in the way."

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Daaamn, Shou!! Lookit you, standin' there, bein' a whole-ass thirst trap! A real snack! Did you just roll outta' bed lookin' that fine?

Why must he always scream?

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Upon leaving the school, Shouta suddenly found himself trapped, an arm from each boyfriend encircling him from behind, a cat head-shaped cake held in front of him. It was chocolate, covered in a light pink frosting. "Happy birthday, Shou!" Mic and Bo cried in unison, before pressing a loud smooch to either cheek. Hey! At least they'd waited until they left the school!

Passing through the gates of the school, Shouta hung his head. Despite all his happily chatting classmates exiting around him he couldn't bring himself to share their excitement for time away from the esteemed halls of UA. Threading through the cliques, he hurried away from the other students, hoping for some quiet.

Another birthday... Ugh, that meant mother was going to give him the lecture.

'Birthdays are just an excuse to waste money on things you don't need, Shouta. It's all a commercial scheme. Be grateful for all the things provided for you throughout the year.'

Granted, she had a point, but Shouta rarely asked for anything anyway. Would a cake really hurt her? Even a slice would make him happy... anything to show him she cared...

Before he realized what was happening, his two idiots leapt out of nowhere, trapping him. "G-guys! Hey! There are people nearby!" Even though he'd become more accustomed to Hizashi and Oboro's unabashed displays of affection, he could never get used to people witnessing it. Besides, his parents still didn't know...

Readying an elbow to Hizashi's gut in retaliation-- he was the loudest, after all-- a shock of pink caught his eye, halting his momentum. "A... cat..." He uttered dumbly, staring in bewilderment.

[bloodshotstare]

Eraser Head's hero costume was comprised of extremely durable material, tough yet flexible. So, when the sharp sound of seams popping filled the air, he couldn't stop a stunned gasp. Still, no matter how arousing, that hero costume cost a lot and replacing it would be a pain. His lips tensed into a thin line.

Shreds of fabric clung to the joint of his prosthetic leg, threads jutting out in random directions. But mild irritation quickly evaporated as misty tendrils writhed all over him, damp like tongues. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine a group of faceless men behind the sensation, hungry for every inch of his body. But why would he need to fantasize? Bo was so much better than a group of nobodies. True to the nomu's words, the only parts of him untouched were his most recent injuries and--

"Ff-ahh!" The expletive on his lips petered off into a sensual sound. Mortified, he turned his flushed face to the side, leaving only his eyepatch to stare blindly up at him. Just like Shirakumo's clouds, the kiss of something moist against his entrance felt more solid than mist should. The way it dragged over his taint before stopping at the tensed ring of muscles caused his cock to jump in anticipation.

It had been a while since Hizashi took him, so discomfort would happen, but knowing it was his lost love would ease any suffering. However... Was this just foreplay? Wouldn't it feel better if Bo used his actual appendages rather than the ever-present mist? That didn't stop Shouta's hips from rocking, forcing the tendril off its mark, making it graze over his taint again and rub circles over his pucker.

"Is it...?" He mumbled, feeling a need to respond verbally since he felt too flustered to look at him. "F-fifteen years is a long time... I hope the changes aren't a bad thing." A pause filled with only his gruff breathing followed before he spoke again. "Can you feel with these?" Hips rolled again for emphasis.

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Shouta managed to pull one arm free of his jumpsuit when the dark mist expanded. His single eye widened as the tendrils reached out, sliding their dampness over his skin. Though shocking at first, he couldn't deny the pleasure as they lapped over his chest, twined around his limbs, then...

"Kuhh..." Breath hissed through gritted teeth. The cool wisp twisting around his erection was impossible to ignore. Thankfully, it wasn't cold enough to cause any embarrassing shrinkage but the contrast in temperature still shocked him. "We did," he forced his hoarse voice out. "But I don't want to push you into anything you're not ready for." Oboro and Hizashi had always been so patient with him back when he was unsure of what he wanted-- minus, a few hormone fueled instances-- so he owed him the same amount of restraint.

The ease in which Kuroboro tore the belt made Shouta shudder, not with fear, but arousal, practically swooning at the sharp pop of leather. Would the rest of his hero costume suffer a similar end? It still clung to one arm and his lower body. Not to mention his prosthetic was still rubbing him raw... Should he mention it?

Kuroboro's question shifted his thoughts. Honestly, he probably couldn't use Erasure. He'd tried after losing half of his vision, but it barely worked-- if at all. "I don't think you're technically using your quirk," he pointed out as the mist pinned him down. Unless this was a mutation of Kurogiri's warp ability, Erasure didn't work on heteromorphic quirks. "But I won't need to anyway. I trust you, Bo."

An honest smile pulled at his lips. "You think I could strip a little more first?" His arms, pinned above his head wiggled lightly-- Finding himself unable to budge only turned him on more. His erection twitched in the grip of a damp tendril. "I want to give you all of me."

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It seemed Mame wasn’t as comfortable with their new roommate as Sushi was. His usually sleek tail poofed to twice its size as he zipped out the door. Poor guy… Once he got to know Bo, he’d warm up to him; everyone always adored Shirakumo.

Not as much as Shouta did, of course.

The skin of Kuroboro’s bare shoulder chilled his cheek as he rested against it. The dip in temperature helped him keep control of himself. If the nomu matched the fire blazing through his skin, Shouta would have lost control. But, it didn’t put him off.

Lips and teeth grazed the nape offered to him, his scruff scraping along with them. His insides squirmed in anticipation, despite his intent to move slowly. He didn’t think he could wait much longer to have something filling him. The state of his throbbing erection told him they might have to forego the foreplay. He didn’t care if it hurt, he needed Shirakumo to be part of him.

Dark tangles fanned out around his head as the nomu lowered him onto the mattress. Arms cased him in as Bo got on top. Immediately, Shouta’s hands began to roam, tracing every part not hidden by cloth. Everything felt so familiar, yet different. Perhaps with enough exertion and friction they could bring heat back into him? The hero was more than willing to try.

However, he stopped himself from venturing below Kuroboro’s belt. He should leave that choice to the nomu. Instead, his hands went to his own clothes, slowly unzipping his bodysuit. Hopefully, the stark changes his body went through in the length of time they were separated didn’t ruin the view Bo claimed to be a fan of. He wasn’t nearly as filled out or hairy back then.

Dark curls peeked out of the gap in the zipper as it slid smoothly down. Subconsciously, Shouta must have hoped for this intimate outcome when he left to retrieve him because he forwent an undershirt today. All he wore beneath his costume was his jockstrap and prosthetic leg. “Are you sure this is okay?”

Kurogiri had spent the past several years in a state of calm but laser-focused numbness. He’d been manhandled plenty, friendly handshakes every now and again, the occasional rough pat on the back. But the hands roaming his upper body now held a different sort of implication, a sensation which elicited both warmth, and a different set of memories.

The very same memories he’d come in here to chase, in fact.

He wasn’t even sure he still had a heart in his chest, and if he did, he wasn’t sure it still beat. Logically, any sort of emotion he felt should have happened entirely within his brain. But the sight which unfolded as the zipper descended brought back that same feeling he felt every time Shouta held his hand. An emotion which seemed to emanate directly from his chest cavity. His heart may have been long dead, but evidently, the love he had for this man wasn’t.

Keep reading

[bloodshotstare]

It seemed Mame wasn't as comfortable with their new roommate as Sushi was. His usually sleek tail poofed to twice its size as he zipped out the door. Poor guy... Once he got to know Bo, he'd warm up to him; everyone always adored Shirakumo.

Not as much as Shouta did, of course.

The skin of Kuroboro's bare shoulder chilled his cheek as he rested against it. The dip in temperature helped him keep control of himself. If the nomu matched the fire blazing through his skin, Shouta would have lost control. But, it didn't put him off.

Lips and teeth grazed the nape offered to him, his scruff scraping along with them. His insides squirmed in anticipation, despite his intent to move slowly. He didn't think he could wait much longer to have something filling him. The state of his throbbing erection told him they might have to forego the foreplay. He didn't care if it hurt, he needed Shirakumo to be part of him.

Dark tangles fanned out around his head as the nomu lowered him onto the mattress. Arms cased him in as Bo got on top. Immediately, Shouta's hands began to roam, tracing every part not hidden by cloth. Everything felt so familiar, yet different. Perhaps with enough exertion and friction they could bring heat back into him? The hero was more than willing to try.

However, he stopped himself from venturing below Kuroboro's belt. He should leave that choice to the nomu. Instead, his hands went to his own clothes, slowly unzipping his bodysuit. Hopefully, the stark changes his body went through in the length of time they were separated didn't ruin the view Bo claimed to be a fan of. He wasn't nearly as filled out or hairy back then.

Dark curls peeked out of the gap in the zipper as it slid smoothly down. Subconsciously, Shouta must have hoped for this intimate outcome when he left to retrieve him because he forwent an undershirt today. All he wore beneath his costume was his jockstrap and prosthetic leg. "Are you sure this is okay?"

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They fit so perfectly together. Yes, Shouta grew quite a bit since their messy kisses in the privacy of that graffitied bathroom stall in the park, but they still slotted together just right. He finally found the puzzle piece to complete the picture, one he thought lost forever. Now, all they needed was their loudmouth bird.

Even so, he never expected to get a response so eager… and forceful. While Hizashi was protective to a fault, almost always treating Shouta gently, Bo was never the timid one when it came to getting physical. Apparently that hadn’t changed. Happy tears leaked from the corner of his eye as their mouths sparred.

It was supposed to be a simple loving gesture, really it was, but… his body had other ideas. He could chalk it up to a physiological reaction all he wanted, but Shouta knew it was more than that. It was because of Bo; he stirred feelings and hormones in Shouta that not even his raw leg stump could combat. He’d gladly suffocate if it meant he could keep kissing him, but the nomu eventually parted from him.

Dazed and flushed, he barely had a moment to breathe before being lifted. Fingers sunk into the meaty globes of his ass, his baggy clothing did nothing to hide his assets when their bodies pressed together like that. A soft, pleased sound escaped with a huff of air through his nose, but he managed to keep himself from moaning outright, thankfully. The possibility of frightening the nomu off with his arousal hovered on the edge of his mind, reminding him to not push too much.

“You can touch me as much as you want.” Though he agreed, the way Kuroboro didn’t ask for his consent sent a thrill through his body. Carefully, his organic leg wrapped around him, followed by his prosthetic after so the hard material wouldn’t rub against the stylish dress pants Kuroboro still sported– not only would it be uncomfortable, but the joint might catch and rip the fabric.

While Shouta may have been fretting over keeping himself in check, the sounds and involuntary body language which did slip through did wonders in helping the nomu place just what this primal need for closeness partly was. An instinct which would have been so very obvious fifteen years ago had become an enigma. His function as a nomu did not require him to think about sex, and therefor he had not.

But he had broken free of that programming, could think and feel on his own, and while there was a brief concern over whether or not he could even still preform such an act, it was immediately drowned out by the certainty that it wouldn’t prove an issue. Shouta had never failed to getting Oboro’s body to react, whether he meant to or not. And, speaking of bodies …

“I think your butt got even better…”

And it wasn’t just his butt, either. Shouta had never been out of shape by any means, but the Shouta he was beginning to remember had always seemed so small. Legs wrapped around his waist brought flashes of a lean musculature under pale, soft skin. But the body he felt pressed up against him now felt strong. Heavy, solid. How much was this man hiding in that baggy uniform?

While his hands enjoyed being full of ass, his attention had shifted over to the bedroom door. While he could take Shouta right then and there, there was something alluring about taking the panther inside his own den.

“One more room to check out on this tour!” Keeping up the friendly, lighthearted chatter felt like a struggle under this new sensation, a feeling of desperate need wrestling with  carnal desire. They were at the bedroom door in an instant, the door swinging the rest of the way open with a shove of a raised foot. He only vaguely noted the black and white cat staring at him wildly from its place on the bed, before jumping to the floor and zipping past him through the open door behind them.

“Nice place!” He didn’t know if that was true or not. He’d only seen the bed, and Shouta, the only important things. Shouta was slid onto the mattress, Kuroboro soon following, hovering over him with a smile. “Love the view…”

[bloodshotstare]

//Started playing Nu Carnival (18+ gacha game) and need some friends.

Invitation code: LYH7R8

Friend ID: 367461384

Join the Guild: 80642438

[bloodshotstare]

They fit so perfectly together. Yes, Shouta grew quite a bit since their messy kisses in the privacy of that graffitied bathroom stall in the park, but they still slotted together just right. He finally found the puzzle piece to complete the picture, one he thought lost forever. Now, all they needed was their loudmouth bird.

Even so, he never expected to get a response so eager... and forceful. While Hizashi was protective to a fault, almost always treating Shouta gently, Bo was never the timid one when it came to getting physical. Apparently that hadn't changed. Happy tears leaked from the corner of his eye as their mouths sparred.

It was supposed to be a simple loving gesture, really it was, but... his body had other ideas. He could chalk it up to a physiological reaction all he wanted, but Shouta knew it was more than that. It was because of Bo; he stirred feelings and hormones in Shouta that not even his raw leg stump could combat. He'd gladly suffocate if it meant he could keep kissing him, but the nomu eventually parted from him.

Dazed and flushed, he barely had a moment to breathe before being lifted. Fingers sunk into the meaty globes of his ass, his baggy clothing did nothing to hide his assets when their bodies pressed together like that. A soft, pleased sound escaped with a huff of air through his nose, but he managed to keep himself from moaning outright, thankfully. The possibility of frightening the nomu off with his arousal hovered on the edge of his mind, reminding him to not push too much.

"You can touch me as much as you want." Though he agreed, the way Kuroboro didn't ask for his consent sent a thrill through his body. Carefully, his organic leg wrapped around him, followed by his prosthetic after so the hard material wouldn't rub against the stylish dress pants Kuroboro still sported-- not only would it be uncomfortable, but the joint might catch and rip the fabric.

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It took some time, but with Kuroboro’s arms wrapped around Shouta’s waist, eventually his rough grip relaxed enough for his own arms to loop the other man’s neck. Lifting his face slightly, breaching the mist, he mumbled, “You’re so cheesy.”

That said, the verbal affirmation of love made his heart sing. Its tempo bumped up a notch as if happy dancing in his chest.

One of the ooze-like tears slinking down the nomu’s cheek caught his eye, and without thinking he leaned in to kiss it away. He didn’t care what it was: oil, poison, decomposition fluids. It didn’t matter. If it was part of his Bo, he would accept it. A dark sheen stained his pale lips after, like some cosmetic that Kayama might wear.

“They’re not,” he chided softly. Was this how Hizashi and Oboro felt when he spoke critically of himself? That must have been so frustrating for teens to deal with; it made him look back at himself poorly, even if his view hadn’t changed. “Different, but not disgusting.” He thumbed away the inky smear on Kuroboro’s cheek. The digit trailing to the corner of the nomu’s lips…

He wanted to kiss him. It was okay, wasn’t it? If he still returned Shouta’s feelings, then he wasn’t taking advantage, was he? Deep inside, he knew if there was any indecision he probably shouldn’t. Still… His lips brushed the corner of the nomu’s mouth, feather-light, testing the waters. As soon as he did it, though, it dawned on him that it looked like he avoided the more misty side of his lips. That wouldn’t work. Pulling back only slightly, he readjusted, lining up his mouth to brush fully against Kuroboro’s.

There was nothing but truth behind Shouta’s words. The man’s darkly stained lips were proof enough of that. Not simply words of comfort, lies poorly hidden behind eyes that wouldn’t even look into his, like at the hospital. Shouta, his Shouta, still loved him, for real, not an ounce of disgust or discomfort in his … one remaining eye.

Their love really had transcended death itself. Wasn’t that romantic? It must have been, because Kurogiri had remained silent, undetectable. As if he’d purposely turned around to give them privacy, to shield himself from these awkward emotions he still didn’t quite understand.

It was the warmth of lips against his own which pulled him out of these silent musings, but not immediately back into reality. Kuroboro’s eyes widened as the sensation brought back memories of the past, in fast, short bursts, there and then gone before he could grasp them. Memories that left behind a bittersweetness in their fleeting wake he felt the need to chase. And chase them he did, in the only way he could, pressing into the kiss with a hungry fervor. Misty fingers entangled themselves in messy locks, his other arm holding Shouta’s body tightly against his own.

Are we kissing him, or attempting to eat him? I’ve lost track of the plot at this point, I’m afraid.

Oh. Oh! Was he hurting Shouta? Shit. He let up on the kiss, but didn’t pull away, resting his forehead against Shouta’s. “I remember– I feel alive when I’m touching you. I don’t want to let go, I– I don’t have to!” In that moment, letting go of this man felt akin to leaping back into that dark, numbing sea of frigid nothingness, and nothing frightened him more. In a gesture much more lewd than intended, both hands shot down to grasp Shouta’s behind, hoisting him up off the ground as he continued to hold him against himself.

“We can make it work! Like this.”

[bloodshotstare]

It took some time, but with Kuroboro's arms wrapped around Shouta's waist, eventually his rough grip relaxed enough for his own arms to loop the other man's neck. Lifting his face slightly, breaching the mist, he mumbled, "You're so cheesy."

That said, the verbal affirmation of love made his heart sing. Its tempo bumped up a notch as if happy dancing in his chest.

One of the ooze-like tears slinking down the nomu's cheek caught his eye, and without thinking he leaned in to kiss it away. He didn't care what it was: oil, poison, decomposition fluids. It didn't matter. If it was part of his Bo, he would accept it. A dark sheen stained his pale lips after, like some cosmetic that Kayama might wear.

"They're not," he chided softly. Was this how Hizashi and Oboro felt when he spoke critically of himself? That must have been so frustrating for teens to deal with; it made him look back at himself poorly, even if his view hadn't changed. "Different, but not disgusting." He thumbed away the inky smear on Kuroboro's cheek. The digit trailing to the corner of the nomu's lips...

He wanted to kiss him. It was okay, wasn't it? If he still returned Shouta's feelings, then he wasn't taking advantage, was he? Deep inside, he knew if there was any indecision he probably shouldn't. Still... His lips brushed the corner of the nomu's mouth, feather-light, testing the waters. As soon as he did it, though, it dawned on him that it looked like he avoided the more misty side of his lips. That wouldn't work. Pulling back only slightly, he readjusted, lining up his mouth to brush fully against Kuroboro's.

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Shouta stood suddenly as if ready to attack. His smile dried up, even if his tears remained. If anything, they fell in larger quantities. The cuff rubbed his stump, every raw nerve ending screamed, twisting his expression even more.

“I don’t know which of you said that…” Callused fingers locked onto cold shoulders, digging into the ashen flesh beneath mist until his knuckles turned a corpse-like shade of their own. “But don’t you dare say my best friend isn’t human!” He trembled, a cocktail of pain, anxiety, and indignation too much for him as he yelled, voice cracking.

“I’ve lived all these years wishing you were still here, begging whatever drives fate to let me see one more time…” His head tipped forward. The swirling blackness covering the other man engulfed him as his forehead came to rest on his clavicle. Would it hurt his eye if he opened it? No. It felt like Shirakumo’s quirk, a little more cold but still cloud-like. If anything it was probably made up of condensation too.

There was truth to what Kuroboro said though. This would take some getting used to… for all three of them. They all still needed to heal. “I still love you.”

A reaction so powerful, so sudden, it was almost frightening. There was so much emotion in that tired face … more than the nomu felt he could take. It was almost a relief when it disappeared against his chest, the man’s raven hair becoming almost indistinguishable from his own wisps.

He wouldn’t mind that so much, Oboro decided. He’d much rather share a body with Shouta than with Kurigiri.

The confirmation of love hit him like a punch to the gut, and his arms closed around Shouta and held him tightly. A hand rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe. “I know… I never stopped loving you, either.” He’d slept for awhile, but his feelings, his true self, had never really changed at all. “And it must be true, because I’m still here! Brought back with your love like in some fairytale.”

They both knew that wasn’t true, not at all. But it was nice to pretend. He’d be fine to stand there forever with Shouta in his arms, without anyone to pull them apart this time. Even the fingertips dug painfully into his shoulders felt kind of nice. It made the situation feel more real, more tangible, more solid. Something that couldn’t so easily be ripped away from them.

“I think I’m crying again … my tears are so gross now…” the nomu whimpered pathetically. But he made no effort to pull away this time, either. They were home. Shouta would be able to wash the gunk out of his hair if he needed to. Oboro … Kuroboro … wasn’t about to let go just yet. Not even if he struggled! “I’m really glad to be back. Our little kitten grew into a big manly panther and I missed it.”

[bloodshotstare]

People need to take a break from worshipping your butt and realize your tiddies are great, too.

The arms already folded over Aizawa's chest tensed. How could one comment make him feel so violated?