#erasermic drabble

[tickly-giggles]

Could u do prompts 22 and/or 24 with aizawa and present mic? If u do x reader could you do with the reader otherwise I would enjoy reading it with eachother! ❤️

Yes yes yes, so cute!! I ship EraserMic so hard so yes! Also, for future reference, I don't do x reader fics. Sorry bout that

BUT onto the fic~!

Warning: Tickle fic ahead! Also very light bondage

Prompt: "When I find you, you're dead!" / "Please be gentle~!"

Characters: Mic, Aizawa, very short amount of Shinso

Shipping: EraserMic

Lee: Mic

Ler: Aizawa

Word Count: 1,343

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“When I find you, you’re dead!”

The words rang throughout the house like an explosion. Mic giggled childishly, diving into the closet in his and his husband’s bedroom. It may have been an obvious hiding spot, but Mic would be lying if he said he didn’t want Aizawa to find him. The circumstances that led up to him hiding in a closet played back in his head, and he couldn’t help but giggle again at the memory.

“Come on, it’ll be fun~,” Mic grinned at Shinso, who was currently doing his best to ignore his honorary father by distracting himself with a video game.

“No offense, but that doesn’t sound fun, it just sounds like we’d annoy him,” 

the purple haired boy paused his game and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly,

“I’d personally rather not get in the middle of it.”

“Aww, but it’s not permanent! It’ll wash off, c’mon!”

Shinso couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at his lips from Mic’s childlike excitement over something so silly, though he rolled his eyes and shook his head in response,

“It’s still a no. Sorry, Yamada-sensei.”

Mic smiled softly at him and playfully ruffled Shinso’s hair,

“Fine, I’ll do it myself. And you don’t need to be so formal with me, Hitoshi.”

Shinso blushed and nodded, smiling wider and starting his game back up as Mic exited his bedroom.

From there, the prank was set in motion. Mic had snuck back into his and Aizawa’s bedroom with a black marker, knelt down beside him while he was curled up under the covers, and hesitated. His husband looked so peaceful. Strands of his disheveled, black hair spilled over his content face in a way that perfectly framed his gorgeous features. His lips were slightly parted, rhythmic breaths escaped his nose with the occasional, gentle snore, and his eyelashes rested against his cheeks.

Mic smiled. How did he get so lucky? His eyes twinkled with pure joy and love for his partner. Joy was quickly replaced with mischief, and a smirk spread across his face as he popped the cap off of the marker.

“Hizashi!” 

Aizawa’s sudden, angry voice snapped Mic out of his reminiscing, and he grinned nervously as he listened to his footsteps gradually get closer.

“I’m going to find you, hiding from me is irrational,”

Aizawa huffed, looking under the bed, then mentally smacking himself for thinking Mic could fit under it. He stood and glared around the room, his eyes eventually falling on the closet. He grumbled and made to open the door, but stopped. He steadied his breathing as he thought for a moment, then grinned slightly,

“I suppose he’s not here. Oh well.”

Finally, he started tapping his feet against the floor, gradually slowing his movements to mimic the sound of him leaving the room.

Mic smirked and rolled his eyes. Like he would fall for the oldest trick in the book. Aizawa was smart, there was no way he would leave without checking the most obvious hiding spot. About a minute passed and there was no sound coming from the other side of the closet door. Mic felt his confidence sinking. Maybe Aizawa did leave? It couldn’t hurt to check, right? 

He swallowed nervously, his hand shaking as he reached for the door handle. Slowly, the door slid open, and he peeked into the room. A triumphant grin replaced his previously anxious expression. The room was empty.

Mic chuckled airily, stepping further into the room,

“I don’t know why I was so nervous. He had no idea I was– WAAHH-!!”

The boisterous pro hero shrieked as he was tackled to the bed. He craned his neck to see Aizawa sitting on his lower back, eyes glowing red, hair defying gravity, and his scarf held tightly in his hands. Most importantly, his face was decorated with random drawings and words in black marker. He smirked and let his hair fall majestically,

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear me hooking myself to the ceiling.”

Mic blushed slightly in embarrassment, and smiled shyly,

“You know my hearing isn’t what it used to be.”

Suddenly, he couldn’t stop the amused giggles that bubbled from his throat at Aizawa’s face. The quirk erasing pro smirked back at his husband and grabbed his wrists, tying them to his ankles with his scarf in a swift motion,

“I’ll give you something to laugh about.”

“W-Wait wha–” 

Mic’s face erupted in even more red, and he experimentally tugged at his bindings, to no avail,

“Shota, what are you doing? Let me go!”

“I don’t think so. In fact,”

Aizawa leaned down and pressed his lips against Mic’s ear, making him shiver,

“I think you wanted me to catch you~.”

Mic swallowed nervously, panic and excitement filling his mind. He didn’t bother replying as Aizawa got to work, carefully taking off his husband’s socks. Aizawa grinned at the way Mic curled his toes when the cool air in the room hit his feet. 

“Something wrong, Hizashi~? You seem nervous.”

Mic bit his lip at Aizawa’s teasing tone, wishing he could bite back with a snarky remark of his own, but he knew that would only get him into more trouble. Aizawa could be quite merciless when he wanted to be. So, he simply replied,

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Is it the fact that I’m going to tickle you, no matter what you do?”

The teasing tone in Aizawa’s voice only worsened how vulnerable Mic felt. He shook his head, trying to fight off the anticipatory tingles that danced across his bare soles. A sigh of resignation escaped his lips, a small, nervous smile creeping onto his face as he addressed his husband once more,

“Just… Please be gentle.”

Aizawa smirked, remaining silent as he started slowly dragging his nails up and down Mic’s soles. The touch was so sudden that he squealed in surprise, then soft giggles escaped his quivering lips.

“Here’s how things are going to go, Hizashi,”

the quirk erasing pro hero started, pulling Mic’s toes back and lightly scratching at a spot just below his big toe,

“You’re going to apologize for playing such a juvenile prank on me. But before that, you’re going to laugh to your heart’s content,”

Aizawa grinned at Mic’s whimpering at his teasing words and light strokes on his ticklish soles. He began running his index finger underneath every single toe while his other hand held them back, causing his ticklish victim to whine and squeak with each new touch,

“That’s why you pulled such a stunt, isn’t it? Because you wanted me to punish you?”

“S-Shuhuhut up, Shohohota!”

“Oh? Is that any way to speak to someone who has you in such a position?”

“Wait, noho I’m sorry! I’m sohohorry, Shota, please, nohohot THAHAHAHAT!! SHOTAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHONONONO PLEHEHEHEASE~!”

Mic thrashed frantically as his husband began mercilessly raking his nails up and down his helpless soles. Aizawa knew exactly what to do to drive him up the wall, and this was one of them. He also knew what Mic could and couldn’t take and, while he couldn’t take being tickle tortured like this, he knew he loved it regardless. 

The two had their session well into the afternoon, much later than either of them had expected to go. Mic’s soles were on fire with ticklish electricity coursing through each and every nerve by the time Aizawa was finished with him. The stoic pro hero never skipped aftercare, and he made sure Mic didn’t protest as he rubbed a cool lotion on his sensitive soles. Mic had, indeed, ended up apologizing far before the tickle session was finished, but Aizawa only stopped once he yelled out their safe word. As the two cuddled in bed by nightfall, Mic looked up at his calm husband. They were both freshly cleaned from a warm shower, and Aizawa’s face was finally rid of the marker doodles. With a slight grin, Mic closed his eyes and cuddled into his husband’s warm chest, unable to stop thinking about what his next prank would be.

[witchedwicked]

“Sometimes I still think about that kiss…”

Shouta stills, glancing to the other side of the booth where Hizashi rests his head on his arm against the sticky tabletop. The blond’s blunt painted fingertips tap absently against the side of his beer.

“You probably don’t even remember...”

But Shouta does. With great clarity as if it had happened yesterday. On the rooftop, his mouth smacking into Hizashi’s upper line of braces at first. Fisting a handful of the other’s school blazer when he tried to withdraw in embarrassment. The trembling, shy, proper kiss that followed.

“Never did figure out how to bring it up again…” Hizashi mumbles, his voice a somber slur. “How to get one more from you…”

[marimeeko]

Maybe a drabble where Katsuki (and the rest of 1-A) is invited to EraserMic's wedding after the war, because after everything that happened, they don't want to put it off any more.

And Katsuki is introspective about it, because there they are, two adult male heroes, getting married to each other. While the wedding is a private affair, and you know Aizawa hates the press and wouldn't let them anywhere near their big day, it IS public knowledge.

And Katsuki, long suffering a deep devotion to Izuku (and realizing what that actaully means, ie, he's in LOVE with the idiot) and several months into funding and designing that passion project of his, can't help but secretly be heartened by seeing a Queer romantic couple of widely known and loved Heroes be recognized and accepted in the Hero space.

Not that he'd ever be apologetic about his feelings for Izuku, or his own Queerness, but Katsuki finds comfort in seeing Eraser and Mic so happy, smiling at each other in that way, as if they can finally be open.

He looks at Izuku, finding the nerd beaming brightly at their teachers' happiness, and imagines one day, that he could be that happy with Izuku, and they could gather in front of all their loved ones. And the Hero World would welcome them too.

[carefreecoffee]

ੈ✩‧₊˚Surprise!: Aizawa Shouta!ੈ✩‧₊˚

A drabble for one of my favourite characters to exist <3 (And relatable at that)

The common rooms were decorated in streamers and decorations of all sorts. The students gathered in the dark area, waiting to strike, suddenly footsteps arrived through the doors that had led into the common room and everyone bounced up with a shout.

“Happy birthday Aizawa-Sensei!!”

The brooding man was taken aback by the large display of noise and affection, looking around at all of 1-A. He furrowed his brows before looking around, “How did you know it was my birthday…?” 

Everyone looks at him sheepishly,

“Mic-Sensei told us..” 

Aizawa groaned, “Of course he did. Oh well..” Mina handed him a party hat which he begrudgingly hesitated to wear. 

Mostly everyone was ecstatic that their stoic and brash teacher had given in to their shenanigans for once, talking and laughing as they brought out the cake that Sato had prepared.

Everyone gathered around, Todoroki lighting the cake with his flames as they sung their rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’.

Aizawa couldn't help the smirk making its way to his lips as they finished. He blew out the candles, cheers erupting around him thereafter.

Another year of aging came with another year of looking after these kids, and maybe, just maybe that wouldn't be too bad after all…

I sketched this picture myself in short notice!! Dont mind the crappy quality haha <33

[toximblee]

emic soulmate au where youre deaf before you find your soulmate // mic is a musician / singer / any type of concert performer and he does it because he likes the vibrations of music even if he cant hear // when hes at a concert he sees this face in the crowd ( its shouta , he was dragged by nemuri because he should 'get out more' and is very unhappy and tired looking bc he doesnt want 2 be there ) and suddenly in the middle of his concert everything gets v loud v quick for mic ( and shouta )

[waddledeedee]

Erasermic + Shinsou — Something Akin to Peace

Summary:

After having an anxious day, Hitoshi succumbs to a panic attack in the midst of preparing a bath for himself. Lucky for him, he has two of the best dads he could ever hope for.

word count: 2k

ao3: link

Hitoshi wouldn’t consider himself a germaphobe on any normal day, but when his bad nerves start to flare up in a sudden attack like this, an overwhelming sense of discomfort and germophobia are a common symptom he often can't avoid. Strange of all, it affects his perception of things that would never usually bother him, and the more triggers that are thrown at him, the more and more intense his physical reactions can become.

Upon doing his own research, warm baths are said to help ease tension and anxiety. Shinsou prefers a quick shower compared to a hot, soapy bath, but on days like today when his nerves are especially rattling him, he’s willing to try anything to find some semblance of peace within himself.

Hitoshi doesn’t announce that he’s going to run himself a bath, nor does he ask his parents like he usually does before taking a shower; just the polite ask if either of them needed to get in before he occupied it for the next fifteen minutes or more.

Unfortunately, though, the bathroom is down the hall and in direct line of sight to the living room where Aizawa and Hizashi usually sat, lights dim as they watched the evening news over tea or coffee depending on whether they have a long night ahead of them. Hizashi is quite the air-head by no means of insult; it’s just that his demeanor is always so floaty and energetic that he rarely ever tends to pick up on much unless it’s spelled out directly in front of his face.

His companion, on the other hand, is nothing if not a direct contrast, which is why Shinsou finds himself locking eyes with Aizawa in momentary pause as his hand remained pressed against the light-switch that just illuminated his presence.

Shouta always had this… stare, as if he wasn’t looking at Hitoshi, but straight through him. Shinsou has seen that look on his face a great number of times - this unreadable, nonchalant expression yet with the most piercing, serious, laser-beam eyes - but for some reason, there was always the slightest difference in it when aimed towards Hitoshi specifically, which unfortunately happens more often than not. Perhaps it’s because he knows him well enough by now to realize that Shinsou is the type to keep things to himself or even lie just so he could burden his issues on his own, and as time continues to go by living in this family unit with them, the swifter Aizawa is at catching on when something was off.

No matter what Shouta thinks or doesn’t think, however, that didn’t make Shinsou any more willing to come running to him and spilling his guts, especially when he was overreacting over such pathetic little things or merely overcome by these bad feelings for no reason at all. It was stupid, it was weak, and it was Hitoshi’s burden to bear alone, it always has been.

He downcasts his eyes, flicks on the shower fan, and steps inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him. When he opened the cabinet door, Shinsou sighs through his nose when he saw there were no clean towels. They were probably thrown haphazardly into a laundry basket on his parents’ bedroom floor to be folded and put away later this evening, and while it would only be quick and easy to go out and fetch one before he got into the tub, his skin crawled at the thought of passing Aizawa again, feeling that suspicious gaze burning into the back of his head. 

Hitoshi sucks a deep breath in, murmuring an, “Okay,” under his breath as if to calm himself down and reassure his own mind and body that they would make do. There were still some other towels poked away in the back, and while they are smaller than what Hitoshi would normally use to dry off with, they would have to make do for the night; a little towel is better than no towel, right?

And then came the part that Shinsou dreaded the most of all, the part that made him cringe at the thought of taking baths: having to try and rinse and wash out the tub of any stray hairs or dirt. Normally, he would ask Aizawa to do this part for him whenever he did announce that he was getting a bath or shower, and that tended to keep his cool; he trusted Aizawa’s judgment and sense of cleaning far more than his own inexperience, plus he always looked like he knew what he was doing. Hitoshi wasn’t even sure if he knew how to do it right, as he got down on his knees in front of the tub with a random hand towel in hand. 

He flicked on the shower head and scrubbed at the base of the tub with as much vigor as he could manage, and yet the most noticeable little pecks of dirt, dust- something, wouldn’t dare scrub off and it only made him grit his teeth in further frustration. The hairs he tried to catch in the cloth kept losing its grip and clinging back onto the smooth surface of the tub, there were still places he couldn’t make clean enough to his liking, and of fucking course he didn’t have a strong enough grip in his nails to pull the suction cups attached to the bottom of the bathmat up so he could wash underneath there too like Aizawa always did. He just couldn’t fucking handle this after the horrible day he’s had already.

So Hitoshi does what he does best, right? He gives up. He turns the shower head off so the tap can run properly and goes searching for a bath stopper from the cupboard underneath the sink so the water could start to fill up. He kept playing with the temperature scale, not liking his bathwater too hot or too lukewarm, but once he deemed it good enough, he pressed it in and patiently waited for the water to fill up.

Of course, though it’s never happened before for whatever reason, Shinsou’s clothes managed to get wet from the spray-back of the shower head, which made him feel uncomfortable as hell, as if someone had spilled their drink all over him. There were only a couple of wet patches; the back of his right shoulder and a couple of pecks at his lower back, but what was worst of all was the wet patch that managed to form at the front of his head, making his already greasy hair feel that much more fucking awful. 

So with the on slot of such sudden feelings of intensifying discomfort, Shinsou strips off every thread of clothes until he was left in only his socks, the part of any outfit he always preferred to take off last for some reason. He sits on the floor besides the tub and waits for it to fill, loving the slow, patient course compared to the rush of a shower. At least here in the bathroom, the door was locked and no one could disturb him, nor did they expect anything of him or even tried talking to him unless it was something urgent. In here, alone and in the silence entirely by himself, he could let his guard down and just exist for a few extra minutes, not having to brave a mask of indifference to the whirlwind of pain and feeling clenching in his chest.

These days, for some reason, the rare bath he takes seemed to fill all the more faster than he remembered. He hated that. He tried to procrastinate getting in right away by making the excuse that the hot water would need some time to cool down, but even that felt far too gone. Hitoshi doesn’t even like getting in the bath, he quite disliked it, but it was loneliness and silence for an extended pass of time, and that was too precious to just pass up for such stupid reasons that made no sense to begin with.

He placed one foot in first, testing the temperature and deeming if it was safe to sink in yet or not. It felt really hot on his feet when both made contact with the soapy water, but as he gave in and slowly lowered himself into the bath, the heat felt especially mediocre to the rest of his body. Which could only mean one thing, really…

He wasted too much time. The water had already gone lukewarm, and now so as not to waste so much water, Hitoshiwould have to just sit here and deal with it.

By this point, Shinsou’s anxieties had forgone the point of frustration to the extreme of downright sad, cursing every flaw and fault this day dealt him as if he somehow deserved it. He knew it was stupid and pathetic to ‘cry over spiltmilk,’ so they called it, but when you’re consecutively hit by punch after punch after punch of little mishappenings, it hurts so much fucking worse than having to brave out what is considered actual bad news.

Things started to take a turn for the worse from there, spiraling so far out of Hitoshi’s control that he couldn’t suck in the panic for any longer. The bath water felt so fucking dirty, even though he knows his parents keep this place clean and tidy on a regular basis, but like sitting in a cup of tea too cold to drink was suffocating his entire mind and body. The bath stopper also made this ungodly noise, and while Hitoshi twisted and turned it, inspecting it with his eyes and nails alone, the condition looked perfectly fine so why was the bath water already lowered to the point of his ribs and already making this monstrous growling noise like something he pulled straight up from hell.

That was when his breath began to quicken, quicken, quicken to the point that, despite having sat in the tub for a meager two minutes at the most, he felt he needed to get out. Even his body felt so dirty, legs and thighs stained by suds that the water he splashed refused to wash off without just adding more.

In, out, in, out, in, out, Hitoshi struggled like a bitch as he placed one foot after the other upon emerging from the tub. The bath mat felt soggy beneath his feet and everything felt so fucking gross, even his own skin as he scrubbed the flesh as hard as he could muster with the little towel he left out for himself. He had the overwhelming urge to scratch at his own skin until he tore every inch of flesh off from his body, because every single inch of him felt like it was beyond the hope of cleansing and he had no clue why . It was the germaphobia, the germaphobia that didn’t exist until Shinsoufell into a frantic state and no longer felt comfortable in his own body.

He dried himself off with more vigor than he normally would use, and yet he still didn’t feel dry enough when he forced himself into the fresh change of clothes he left on the counter. Hitoshi had the tendency to get ansty on a normal day over the weird and uncomfortable feeling like he could never dry his crotch off enough to not feel soaking wet in his underwear and pants, even though the skin felt dry to the touch. He kept tugging and pulling at his sweats as if that could help, and the tag of his sleep shirt was rubbing and scratching at the back of his neck so fucking bad- 

“Hitoshi!” There’s a light knocking on the door, a gentle action that contrasted the concern and urgency in his dad’s voice. “What’s going on?! Are you okay in there?!”

Shinsou isn’t sure when he ended up sliding down onto the floor, arms hugging his knees as he curled into himself, but he must of cried out or screeched something for Aizawa to appear so suddenly. The floor felt so fucking disgusting, why would he sit on it, it just made everything feel a million times more worse, he’s getting his clothes dirty and it’s going to smell like that imaginary stench that he breathed into his lungs. 

His chest still felt so sweat, the fabric of his shirt was practically sticking to him. Shinsou had to squeeze his hands into the tightest balls of fists so the sting and pressure of his nails gauging into his palms could alleviate all of these pent up emotions that were forcing themselves out of his body in one form or another.

“I don’t know, I don’t know, it just came over me!” Shinsou’s voice is a broken sob called from his own side of the door, pressing his nose and mouth to his knees as he rocked back and forth, back and forth, unable to get that imaginary stench out of his system. “I c-can’t… I can’t b-breathe, Dad, I can’t-!”

With a forceful kick to the door, Aizawa was able to get it open with an impressive show of ease. Normally, he would of just demanded that Shinsou ‘open the door right now’ if he had rushed off mid-conversation to cry in the bathroom or if he heard traces of sniffles to accompany the tears Shinsou fought to hide from them behind the lock on the bathroom door. But it would seem Shouta understood the severity of the situation even though Hitoshi himself couldn’t comprehend anything beyond the overwhelming feelings taking over his nervous system.

Hizashi stands where Aizawa once stood when the latter drops to a crouch and crawls over to where Hitoshi trembled and cried on the floor. For once, Hizashi was at a loss for words as he stood with his hand pressed over his mouth, expression a mix between pity and his own urge to cry. His eyes did begin to fill up with tears of his own when he finally got a look at his boy, and this is what Shinsou hated more than anything; hurting those closest to him over these stupid little attacks of his.

“Come on, Toshi, don’t do that, please,” Shouta’s voice is a whisper, hurting but still so full of control as he coaxed the hands that Shinsou violently pulled at his scalp in a mantra of shushes. “Shhhh, shhhh, hey, it’s ok, it’s ok. Look at me?”

Why Aizawa, the man with a mind and integrity made up of stone cold steel, would reserve such a painfully gentle tone of voice for him of all people is something Hitoshi doesn’t think he will ever understand, nor ever deserve. Meeting his gaze and seeing such tenderly genuine affection and warmth that his gaze usually lacked, it was almost too good to be real.

“Everything’s going to be alright, ok?” Aizawa utters like it was the most casual promise; like it was so certain that Hitoshi had no choice but to believe it. He brings a hand to his son’s cheek, brushing a thumb along the pocket of tears still pooling and building at his eyelids. “Believe me. You’re the most resilient kid I’ve ever met, not to mention so keen and quick as a whip to catch on to anything you set your mind to.”

But that didn’t mean he sobbed any less when he lowered his head and accepted the loving touch of his dad’s hand to smooth the purple hair at the back of his neck, the skin of his fingers always so warm and dry to the touch.

God, he loved his parents so much…

“If you didn’t have a little bit of vulnerability left in you, I’d worry I turned you into a machine. My training regimens sure are bullet-proof enough to make that happen, but I’m not sorry, kiddo; not when every second I drill into you keeps my son one step closer to evading death and emerging victorious. You feel me?”

When Hitoshi nods his head vigorously, mouth pressed shut and tears still streaming down his face at a steady force, Aizawa whispers an, “Alright,” before slipping his arms through the bed of Shinsou’s knees and bringing him up to a carry, grunting at the crack and pops of his old knee joints.

As his old man turns around and prepares to make for the bathroom door, Hizashi crosses the threshold and approaches his mini family, eyes aglow with his own unshed tears as he caresses the creases in Hitoshi’s forehead with his thumb. Hizashi, too, has this seriously loving expression about him that only made Shinsou want to cry even harder. There was no one who could hug like Hizashi can; if he could melt and cry into that embrace forever, Shinsou would never feel cold again.

“I love you, baby, you know that, right?” Hizashi whispers, his voice quiet and straight-laced as if he could break down crying himself with a single waver of his own. Shinsou absentmindedly presses his forehead further into the warmth of Hizashi’s palm following the silent nod he expressed in return, his own voice hoarse and croaky when he expresses an, “I love you too, pops,” of his own.

Hizashi’s lips manage to stretch beyond it’s reassuring, tight-lip smile that fought to hold back cries, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to Hitoshi’s forehead before following at Aizawa’s heels towards their bedroom.

Hizashi quickly passes them to push the laundry basket out of their path before Aizawa is placing Shinsou in the middle of their king sized bed, the mere scent of the comforter and pillows smelling of a home Shinsou never thought he would ever have once upon a time.

Still in their casual down-time clothes, Aizawa and Hizashi move in on either side of him, what has become the routine for nights when Shinsou’s panic attacks are a little too much for him to bear.

Hizashi drops his head on the pillow beside Shinsou’s shoulder, gazing up at his face as he used his own sleeve to wipe away at the snot staining his upper lip.

Aizawa buries his face into the crook of Shinsou’s neck on his other side, emitting a deep breath in and out of his own before stretching his arm across the waists of both members of his family, holding them both close like he’d risk anything at all not to lose them. Shouta might not be especially skilled at physical combat, but when Hitoshi snuggles into those arms, he feels as if he is in no safer place in the world.

“We love you, kid. So much,” Aizawa’s voice is a grave whisper, face still hidden in Shinsou’s shoulder. Hizashi can actually manage the smallest of smiles at his words, lifting an arm to wrap around Aizawa’s own shoulders before gently caressing his fingertips across his shirt.

As if to emphasize that point, Hizashi lifts Shinsou’s other free hand to his lips and presses another kiss to his kunckles, squeezing his hand firm and seriously.

“And that’s something that won’t never, ever change. You can come to us, about anything and everything at all. It’s our job to protect you, and that it always will be.”

Trying to fight a second onslaught of tears he could feel already burning at his eyes, Hitoshi nods his head vigorously with an even wider, softer smile, returning the pressure of the squeeze in their joined hands.

It didn’t take long for Shinsou’s parents to drift off; Aizawa first, and of course the two cats that were already asleep at the corner of the bed before they even walked in here. They continued to hold each other close, Shouta’s arm still thrown around his middle and Hizashi’s hand still holding Hitoshi’s with no intentions of letting go.

Finally, Shinsou can manage a deep breath in of his own, his body finally allowing itself to deflate and settle down. This, right here, amounts to any amount of peace Hitoshi could ever want…

[queen-of-gotham]

Comfort in Silence

- an erasermic family Drabble-

Hizashi Yamada and Shouta Aizawa enjoyed one thing every morning. Sitting on the couch, in silence with each other as they drank their morning coffee and caught up on an episode of whatever dumb show they were currently into. They were busy fathers of two teenagers and a small child, their family seemingly thrown together by choice and proximity, but a family they loved nonetheless.

To their children, however this quiet time is where they found a comforting solstice away from life’s problems. It was never all three at once, that they were thankful for. More times than not it was just one of them that would quietly slink in and curl up with one or both of the men. Except for when big things came and crossed paths on rare occasions, then both teenagers would find their way in, with their own cups of coffee, looking like miniature versions of their respective father. Today was one of those days.

Hitoshi sat himself between both dads, he was being tested that day to be transferred into a more prestigious class than the one he was originally placed in. The normally calm and collected boys hand shook a bit as he drank his coffee and let out a deep nervous sigh. No one spoke though, they sat in the silence of their steaming mugs and the soft voices on the television screen.

Haru would come in and stare for a moment before deciding which edge of the couch had the most room. The teen girl liked to curl her feet up underneath of her when she sat and drank her coffee. So that’s what she did beside Shouta, leaning her head into his shoulder for just a moment. To ground herself. She had a competition coming up, one she worried she would fail at. Again the comforting silence surrounded them, the aroma of coffee filling the room, the silence easing their worries, and their dads’ presence filling them with comfort.

Only, today was a bit different. A big pair of crimson eyes looked from her bedroom, slowly shuffling in. Eyes set on the family who chose her. She didn’t need comfort today. She just wanted to be included in whatever was happening with her dads and big siblings. She’s wouldn’t think about where to sit, she simply found the first open space and crawled in under Hizashi’s arm, making him snuggle her for the last few minutes of the television show.

And just like every morning when the credits rolled across the screen, Hizashi would stretch, and Shouta would stand, laying comforting gazes onto their kids. They knew the kids would be alright. The teens would exchange glances, a playful shove, something as their own silent way of comforting each other.

Yeah. The silence in the morning was nice, but the comfort they found in each other was unmatched. While it was never said out loud between anyone, those mornings meant more than any single one of them could put into words.

[cyhyr]

Whumptober No.10 "You said you'd never leave."

Is this a continuation of the previous prompt? No idea! You decide! Is there a happy ending to this? No idea! You decide! Tagging for whumptober: @atereal @oneinist

~

Hizashi wakes up and the first thing he sees is his own body laying in a hospital bed. Well, that’s concerning. What kind of— The door opens and he turns; his husband walks in, looking more tired than Hizashi ever thought possible. He tries asking Shouta what happened, but he walks right through Hizashi and oh fuck he’s gonna puke it feels so weird.

Shouta sits at his bedside, gripping his body’s hand so tightly; he wishes he could feel it.

“You said you’d never leave me,” Shouta rasps.

“I’m right here!!!” Hizashi shouts.

No noise comes from his mouth.

[doumadono]

I'm thrilled to reveal my first-ever Kinktober collaboration event hosted by me, Doumadono, and my second writing blog, Thepaperpanda

After the huge success of my inaugural Kinktober event last year, conducted on ThePaperPanda, I've opted to explore a fresh concept this year. With this notion in mind, I contacted the writers I hold in high regard, inviting them to partake in a playful exploration of lust and desire. To my astonishment, the response was overwhelmingly positive, and I am deeply honored to have such exceptional writers participating in this little project. I want to express my deep thanks to all the writers who are participating. Having each and every one of you on board brings me great joy and satisfaction ♡

Essential information

♡ This Masterpost has been prepared to function as an informational leaflet, providing comprehensive details about the upcoming collaboration event

♡ The Masterlist will undergo updates as soon as the works are posted

♡ All works will be NSFW 🔞

♡ Our event-specific tag will be applied to all works: #kinktobercollab‘23

♡ This is a multifandom event

♡ Within this collaborative event, you'll discover a variety of stories, including headcanons, blurbs, drabbles, and full-length fictions

♡ The event will include various pairings (such as KiriBaku, ShigaDabi, etc.)

♡ Below, following the cut, you can find the complete list of prompts, characters, and writers participating in the Kinktober 2023 Collaboration

♡ Reblog to help spread the word!

♡ day 1 - blow job | Douma | @sanriokamabodo

♡ day 2 - overstimulation | Bakugo | @doumadono

♡ day 3 - dry humping | Atsumu Miya | @doumadono

♡ day 4 - maid | Dabi | @dabihawksluva

♡ day 5 - bukkake | KiriBaku & ShigaDabi | @doumadono

♡ day 6 - orgasm denial | Levi Ackerman | @mrskokushibo

♡ day 7 - sensory deprivation | Douma | @muzansfangs

♡ day 8 - drunk sex | Bucky Barnes | @thepaperpanda

♡ day 9 - leash | Sukuna | @thepaperpanda

♡ day 10 - shibari | Douma | @thepaperpanda

♡ day 11 - creampie | Shigaraki | @thepaperpanda

♡ day 12 - break

♡ day 13 - mirror | Hawks | @kyojurismo

♡ day 14 - daddy kink | Jake Lockley | @thepaperpanda

♡ day 15 - hair pulling | Akaza Douma Kokushibo | @sanriokamabodo

♡ day 16 - morning sex | Neuvillette | @thepaperpanda

♡ day 17 - spanking | Kotaro Bokuto | @doumadono

♡ day 18 - temperature play | Dabi | @dabislittlemouse

♡ day 19 - break

♡ day 20 - break

♡ day 21 - angry sex | Bakugo | @mrskokushibo

♡ day 22 - oral sex | Sae Itoshi | @thepaperpanda

♡ day 23 - rough sex & praise kink | Lucifer | @thepaperpanda

♡ day 24 - dirty talk & finger fucking | ShibaDabi | @lifeform286

♡ day 25 - breeding kink | Dabi | @sillakits

♡ day 26 - love triangles | KiriBaku | @kyojurismo

♡ day 27 - period sex | Bakugo | @thepaperpanda

♡ day 28 - lingerie | Shigaraki | @misafiryanki

♡ day 29 - threesome | Erasermic | @gamergirl-niffler

♡ day 30 - torture | Dottore | @gamergirl-niffler

♡ day 31 - biting | Douma | @sanriokamabodo

[mics-bootlicker]

Some random Erasermic drabble set after they get together in their early to mid 20s bcos I've been thinking about the whole Hizashi being Shōta's second choice thing

(Edit: also forgot to add, Hizashi being this honest about his feelings is rare lol)

M: If Shirakumo were still alive, would we have still...?

E: Don't think like that, it doesn't make sense. What happened happened, how would hypotheticals change anything?

M: I know it won't change anything, sheesh, but you loved him didn't you? Back then, me, I was just... a friend, and I knew that, hated that.

E: Yes, I think I did love him. But he didn't love me back, did you know that too? I don't think he even liked men.

M: I knew that. It's funny, you know? He would encourage me to confess to you. And I never did because I knew you liked him, but I couldn't even tell him that!! I got tight lips, hmmm?

E: Well, thanks for that, I guess. I can't believe he never knew, I was so obvious. People say I'm the closed up one, but in the end, everyone knew i liked him and only he knew you liked me, huh?

M: ...I was jealous of him until he died. How horrible is that?

E: Not horrible at all. Jealousy is illogical but... it happens. Just like accidents happen with Shirakumo's death.

M: God, why haven't we talked about it like this? Ever since then, we've barely had any open talks about it. Fuck, I miss him. I miss us.

E: Calm down. We'll be alright

M: You sure weren't acting like it for a while.

E: Well, we're back together now, and different than before. And what you said... about if Shirakumo would've survived... if we still would have... maybe, who knows? Shirakumo was never going to love me the way I wanted him to then. Maybe I would've moved on, then started noticing you more. Then maybe Shirakumo would've finally convinced you to make a move on me, and I would've said yes. Maybe you would've lost interest forever and fallen in love with somebody else. But nobody can say for certain, what's the point in speculating? Hizashi, I love you now. That's what matters

E: Shōta, I love you too

[sparkles-and-trash]

💫 MHA Holiday Drabbles 💫

I wanna write some holiday themed mha drabbles this December, if anyone has any ideas or requests feel very free to send me some asks ~

I’m open for basically everything platonic and dabihawks, bktd, togachako, momojiro, erasermic, shinkami and Fuyumi x Rumi ~

[class1akids]

AO3 Ship stats 2023 (which ships grew most)

BNHA Ships in the Top 100:

7th place: BKDK (+1)

24th place: EraserMic (-1)

31st Place: BK&DK (+1)

41st place: Aizawa & Izuku (-2)

58th place: KRBK (-29)

75th place: DabiHawks (-15)

97th place: BKTD (New in Top 100)

Now, this is based on raw data of what people have tagged. So ships that get tagged a lot as background will get boosted. Also, it counts "works". So a ship can be boosted by a large number of small drabbles all published as separate works, while a 500K word multichapter masterpiece will still count as just 1 work.

But it's still amazing, that 7 different dynamics of BNHA have made it into Top 100.

[tastelessleather]

Early Mornings

Was supposed to be a little drabble but ended up being nearly 4k.

Shouta Aizawa x Oc (Anthony Fel Claire)

Mild mentions of past erasermic, brief thoughts of sh, and lots and lots of fluff

Summary: Aizawa comes home from a nasty patrol and gets a little tlc from his favorite Sunflower

(now on Ao3 as well)

Shouta grumbled roughly as he stumbled in through the door. His patrol had been hell, all rainy streets and slippery disorienting battles that left things more complicated than they ever needed to be. He was exhausted, and just so, so done.

With no large amount of care, he shucked off his boots, not bothering to try and line them up on the mat with his partners. He felt a small twinge of guilt afterwards, knowing he had promised to be back before midnight at the latest, and yet here he was returning home as the sun was starting to rise. Shouta didn’t like whenever his sworn word got overridden, but they had been short on heroes in the area and a brawl broke out. What else was he supposed to have done?

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a soft whine and the tapping of claws coming from down the hall, the tell tale sound of excited panting following. With a small chuckle he limped his way down the hall, finding exactly the same sight he’s found every night since he moved in here.

What was waiting for him never failed to make him smile, the big shaggy black dog that always seemed to be over the moon to see him, was just that. His partner’s dog, Odysseus, was there; his tail wagging furiously, mouth hung open and tongue lolling out in the worlds biggest grin that rivaled even All Might himself.

The canine pawed excitedly at the babygate keeping him from running out to trample the hero, more little whines slipped out in the process, causing more than a little ruckus in the quiet of the early morning.

“Oddy, I’ll be there in a moment. Patience, remember?” Another small chuckle slipped out as he leaned against the gate, patting the dog’s head as the furry creature wriggled and jumped.

“Alright, alright…you know the drill, pup. I can’t cross over till you back up.” Shouta gave Odysseus a pointed look, one he particularly used when he wanted the dog to follow a command. Obediently Odysseus backed up and sat, his swiffer tail still hitting everything in its path.

“Better…good boy..” With a heavy sigh, Shouta braced himself for the inevitable discomfort of making it to the other side. Sure, he could just open the gate and go through, but then Odysseus was bound to excitedly try to love him and wind up over in the kitchen where he wasn’t supposed to be. The hero really did not want the dog to cause more painfully loud sounds to fill the silence and possibly disturb the blonde that was no doubt asleep in the other room.

With a grunt he leaned more heavily against the gate and hitched his leg over it, wincing at the sharp sting of pain that pulled from the remnants of his knee up to his spine. “Fuck…” Shouta’s grip went painfully tight on the plastic of the gate for a moment before he took a deep breath and steadied himself. This would only take a moment, one very, very painful moment. But it was worth it, to not disturb the scene in the other room that he felt he had no right to see but longed to keep filled with peace. Or that’s what he told himself at least.

Thankfully the firm plastic of the barrier held steady, being made of withstanding materials much like many of the items scattered around their shared space. Since his lover had the money to afford them and Shouta had an eye for quality and practicality, they made sure they only had to buy things once.

The whine that slipped his lips when he lifted his leg up nearly made him want to turn as red as the streetlights outside, but he was alone, this was his home, and he reminded himself he had no reason to be embarrassed. This was the uncomfortable part though. His leg was over, an unhelpful pressure and nearly stinging tension built up around the socket of his hip, now he had to get the rest of him on the other side.

“Oddy…move, please…just for a moment…” With a pitiful little huff, the dog complied and sat back down instead of trying to nose his snout under Shouta’s hand.

With nearly excruciating pop of his hip, a release of the pressure, and a clank of his prosthetic, he made it over. His body still stung in places he wished it didn’t, but the worst of it was over.

“Alright, c’mere you little beast…” Odysseus was more than happy to comply, waiting patiently as Shouta knelt and opened his arms. But the minute the usual welcoming hug was offered, he all but knocked the hero over. The canine seemed to never understand his size, that he wasn’t some tiny purse pup but instead up to Shouta’s navel even with his ears pinned.

He laughs and ruffles the dog’s fur until the little gremlin has had his fill, finally able to stand, cracking his back in the process. After checking the time he decides that he should probably feed the pup before heading off to bed, wanting to at least take care of the little parts of his partner’s responsibilities since he was bound to be in at least a little trouble for not coming back all night.

Thankfully the task didn’t take too long, and Odysseus had politely obeyed his command of patience so he could do it uninterrupted. And so, with a soft pat to the dog’s rear, he was finally able to make his way to the bedroom.

He let the tips of his fingers glide along the ridges of the walls as he went, humming an idle tune that filled the quiet hall. He could feel the dust collecting on them, normally he would have frowned at it, but not this time. He wasn’t going to be cleaning his old spartan shoebox of an apartment alone. No, he and Anthony have a cleaning day scheduled not too far off. That doesn’t sound pleasant to most people, but to him it was the small amount of intimate bliss that he craved. Where he and Anthony would clean their home. Together.

It wouldn’t be a painstaking chore like his old place had been. Wouldn’t be something he did while just going through the motions of life after too much grime built up and Hizashi would question Shouta on if the tired hero should move back in with him.

No, cleaning their home together was something Shouta had come to love to do. It meant he could spend time with Anthony, see the way the blonde would get distracted by photos or mementoes on the walls and shelves. The way the softest of pinks would creep into the younger man’s pale skin, the world's sweetest smile being partially hidden by purple-tinged fingertips skimming over the lips he loved to kiss, the warm honey tone Anthony’s eyes would take as he lost himself in whatever blissful memory.

That’s what made cleaning day worth it.

Shouta was pulled almost violently from his thoughts when too deep a breath sent a jolt of pain through his lungs and right into his throat, making him realize he had been standing outside the bedroom door for far too long.

The tired hero takes a steadying breath before opening the door, deftly stepping around floorboards he knows will creak, carefully removing the coils of his capture weapon from his shoulders in the process.

The sight that greeted him made that oh-so familiar feeling of warm creep through his bruised ribcage and wrap snugly around his heart. Laying in their bed, wrapped in blankets and bathed in sunlight spilling in from the open curtains, was Anthony. The pale pretty boy was lying mostly on Shouta’s side of the bed, hugging the hero’s pillow with his knees drawn almost up to his chest. From what isn’t covered by the blankets, Shouta can see that the blonde is wearing the same dark blue Henley that the tired man constantly scolds him for stealing. The faded fabric was loose on the other’s skin from where Anthony lacked the bulk Shouta had to fill it out.

Further down he can see that Anthony had stolen a pair of his boxers as well, and once again guilt tugged at the edges of his mind, knowing the thievery was likely a result of trying to self-soothe worry over Shouta being out late. He would make it up to him, he knew he would, but it didn’t make him feel any better about how many times they’ve gone through the same song and dance about it.

Stepping closer, Shouta winced at the uncomfortable pinch of his prosthetic, his knee just above it once again wanting to give up on him. He needed a shower, badly, but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the view for a moment longer, does it?

With a soft hum he moves to perch on the edge of the mattress, stretching his legs out in front of him on the floor as he does so. After he’s comfortable he turns back to the precious scene he’d walked in on, carefully bringing a hand to brush away soft platinum locks from Anthony’s face, observing how the rest of the sleeping man’s hair is fanned out and coiled in small tendrils that almost remind Shouta of a halo.

Unable to help himself, he let his hand slide down. Anthony’s skin was warm, almost feverish if you thought too hard about it, a byproduct of the quirk that shined so brightly when the younger man was awake. His hand lingered on Anthony’s neck for a moment, feeling the steady thump of the blonde’s pulse against his palm. It was reassuring to feel, to know that the heart defect that plagued someone who shined so brightly was finally giving him a moment of peace.

Sliding further still, his hand brushed over the bumpy scars of Anthony’s shoulder, the chunks of missing flesh that had healed over time, even further and his palm pressed directly above the other’s heart. The significance of the surgical scars littering the man’s fair skin was not lost on him, and Shouta made sure that Anthony knew just how proud he was of how much he’d fought to be alive. To not just live but to thrive.

Further down his hand goes, gliding along the bumpy fabric until it reaches where the Henley had hiked up just enough to expose a strip of Anthony’s navel. It wasn’t until he started gently massaging the area with his thumb that Anthony began to stir, the golden boy groaning softly and stretching like he always does.

“mnh….Shou..?” Anthony didn’t bother opening his eyes just yet, pushing into the hand on his stomach before relaxing back into the bed and pushing a hand through his hair.

Shouta could only give a soft hum as he watched a lazy smile spread over the blonde’s lips, looking like heaven and absolutely devourable all at once. “Yeah., it’s me….did I keep you waiting, little cloud..?”

Anthony makes a slightly dismissive sound, leaning into Shouta’s palm when he feels the callus of it against his cheek. Only then did he let his eyes flutter open, closing his own hand around the hero’s wrist and turning his head just a fraction to press a soft kiss into that rough palm.

“...Anything lasting..?” Anthony knew he was avoiding the question, avoiding telling Shouta that, yes, he had in fact stayed up all night waiting for him, but any injuries Shouta might have is more important.

“Nothing that won’t be gone without a trace soon enough. No need to get up just yet, Sunflower…” Maybe they both had a little to work on…The whole ‘Telling the truth and not leaving out the parts that will make the other worry’ thing is not going to withstand in the long run. But that was another day’s problem, for now Shouta wanted to enjoy his morning.

Anthony gave him a soft, almost disbelieving groan, one that Shouta knew meant that the blonde would be checking him over thoroughly in a few hours. Thankfully Anthony still seemed caught in the golden sleepy haze of the morning and wasn’t ready to be mad at the stubborn man just yet.

Almost half-convinced that Anthony had drifted back to sleep in his palm, Shouta leaned down to press a soft kiss to his hair. And then between his eyes, the arch of each cheekbone, the tip of his nose, and finally a slow almost lingering kiss to his lips.

The action roused a smile out of the blonde, who had already returned the kiss without a thought before Shouta could pull away. “...Flatterer… I know you’re trying to get yourself out of trouble…” Anthony may have grumbled at him but made no move to push the hero away.

Aizawa on the other hand, laughed lowly and nuzzled into the blonde locks of the other’s hair, his stubble catching on the pale strands. “Well, is it working..?”

“....Unfortunately yes.”

“Good.”

“You’re the worst…..”

“You know you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Mm…well as much as I would love to come smother you to our hearts content, I need to shower before I ruin our sheets or wind up with a nasty infection…” With no small amount of effort Shouta managed to pull himself away, but not before pressing another firm kiss to the golden boy’s hair.

“Be careful…and if you need help but don’t ask for it then I’m gonna kick your behind…”

“You could just say ass, Sunflower…”

“Shuttup..go shower before you start to smell like Oddy after a swim..”

Shouta could only give a startled laugh at Anthony’s avoidance of cursing, finding it utterly endearing. Doesn’t matter though, he knows exactly what he could do to get the blonde swearing more than he does on a monday, and oh-so prettily. But those thoughts were for another time, or perhaps in a bit when he can comfortably rest on their shower bench and indulge. Right now he needed to get cleaned up.

Shouta pushed himself up from the bed with a nearly pained grunt, his leg once again reminding him how much he needs to get off of it, the pressure in his hip returning with a vengeance.

“..Sparrow….”

“It’s fine. You know it’s fine. And if it isn’t, then it will be soon enough.” Aizawa had quickly cut Anthony off from any form trying to fret, almost roughly with the exhaustion in his tone, but he didn’t mean it to hurt, not really.

Anthony doesn’t say anything more on it, simply sitting up in bed and watching Shouta go.

Well that was just nice…he pulled himself out of his guilt only to plunge himself right back in even further than before. He knew Anthony would understand why he was so biting but that didn’t make the hero feel any better about it. Shouta would make it up to him…he had to.

For now though, he’d get cleaned, patch himself up, and try to give his lover a little bit of an apology before he crashed from the ever present pull of sleep.

He shut himself in the bathroom, avoiding his reflection in the mirror, not wanting to see whatever mess he’d become. Although the thought of his appearance made him mildly smile, knowing Anthony still gave him that ridiculously sloppy grin and sung his praises no matter how banged up he got.

When had he forgotten how good it felt to be loved?

Why did it take Hizashi’s breakdown and Anthony’s interference for him to remember?

Shouta hadn’t even realized he was moving on autopilot until the shower water startled him back into focus. He needed to get out of his head.

With a sigh he sat himself down on the toilet seat, fighting with the zipper to his tattered jumpsuit.

It would be fine. Things were fine. Best case scenario he was overthinking it and trying to rationalize any possible outcome that could blossom from him royally fucking up everything in his life.

He’d done it more than once before, and everyone around him had picked up the pieces and held him together until he could do it on his own again. And suddenly Shouta is worried he may have pulled Anthony into the same brutal cycle he had to Hizashi.

The hero frowned and forcefully tugged a hand through his knotted hair, cursing at all the mud and grime that came away with it. “Damn it..” Shouta bit into the side of his cheek forcefully and was about to try and tug more knots free, to untangle it he told himself, certainly not to feel the almost calming sting, but was stopped by the sound of a voice in the other room.

Anthony had apparently been pounced on by Odysseus and was lovingly baby talking the beast, even after all the times that Shouta joked at him to stop. And maybe that was okay. Maybe things weren’t as bad as his depraved mind was making them out to be. Anthony sounded happy, talking to the dog about anything and everything in the world.

He felt a little sick to his stomach at how much his heart ached with longing. Mild jealousy at how easily the damn dog could brighten his lover’s mood when Shouta had pushed it into the gutter.

“Let’s go get our Sparrow a pick me up, ‘kay fuzzball?” Anthony’s voice barely filtered in through the door, the hero could only assume it was because the blonde had stood and gotten closer.

He needed out of his head. Now. Before he worried himself to death and ruined anything good he has.

Shouta forced himself to persevere through the aches in his body to wriggle out of his jumpsuit and carefully dislodge his prosthetic. It took even more fighting to get himself over to the shower but the water was nice and heated by the time he settled himself on the shower bench under the spray so it wasn’t so bad.

It was soothing to finally melt under the rush of mist and heat of the water hitting his skin, even further so when he could unhook the showerhead from the wall to get the relief running down his neck and back as well. It was mind melting and finally he could relax.

~~~~~~~~~~

After who knows how long of scrubbing and stitching and bandaging, Shouta was finally all bandaged up and clean after his shower.

He returned to the bedroom to find Anthony not there, but Odysseus is sprawled out on their bed panting and happy as can be, even a few leaves sticking in his fur. Anthony must have taken him for a walk while Shouta was cleaning up.

The smell of food grabs his attention though, a plate, bowl, and mug sit on his nightstand along with a spoon, his favorite honey, and a set of chopsticks. Upon further inspection it was the dinner Anthony had made the night before, all heated up and set there for him to enjoy, making his mouth water in the process of trying to tie his hair up.

He could smell the tea from the mug, his blend of Hibiscus and butterfly pea tea that Anthony always insists on ordering ever since Shouta had expressed an interest in trying different teas for after his patrol to help him sleep and settled on liking this one the most.

This is why Anthony was his sunflower, in his opinion.

He sat down on the edge of the bed with the bowl and went to take a bite, relaxing when he realized why he couldn’t see Anthony before. The man was still in the room, he’d just been in their closet, evidently putting aside comfortable sleeping clothes for Shouta and finding suitable day clothes for himself. He did have a job to get to after all.

“...Sunflower…”

Anthony perks up at the sound of being called by his partner, his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he tries to fumble for anything to hold on to after being startled, his heart beating painfully for a moment before calming.

“Yes, love?”

“...Thank you…”

“Oh, Shou-” Shouta quickly cut Anthony off before he could finish though, holding up a hand for the golden boy to let him speak his piece.

“..For everything…not just breakfast…”

“....oh….always, Shouta.” The blonde gave him a firm nod, a slightly sad smile, and went back to getting dressed, tugging off Shouta’s Henley to leave his back bare and facing the hero.

They co-existed in a comfortable silence after that, until Shouta finished his food and limped his way over to a now almost-dressed Anthony who was currently fumbling with the buttons of a nice lilac button down. The rest of the blonde was just as stunning in the hero’s opinion, tailored black slacks, compression socks underneath, the brace he knew would be on Anthony’s weakened shoulder, the cinch of his belt. He loved it all.

So, carefully, he wrapped his arms around the younger man’s waist, thumbs sliding over the silky fabric on the other’s stomach.

“You’re trembling….”

“That’s not any different than usual and you know it.”

“Yes, but this has buttons…” Without another word, Aizawa was already pushing Anthony’s hands out of the way to replace with his own.

“And last time you helped with a shirt that had buttons it ended with the shirt in shreds and me severely late for work.”

“You complainin’?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good.” Aizawa smiled a little at how quickly his lover had answered, his sunflower was always eager it seemed.

After a moment longer the shirt was buttoned and his attention turned to tying up the ribbons that closed the top and made a pretty choker for the blonde, ending with a slightly obnoxious bow at the back of his neck, framed with Anthony’s hair pulled up and held in place with metal pins that had intricate designs.

When it was done, he pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of the blonde’s collar bone, and then another a little further down where he could see the tip of a surgical peeking out. “Beautiful…”

Anthony, unable to help himself, lets a hand drift to shouta’s jaw, purple fingertips smoothing over the rough stubble there before tilting the man's chin upwards. “You say that every time.”

“And I mean it. Every time.”

Anthony wanted to call him a sap, or a hypocrite, but all he could manage was a flustered little groan, and dropping his head onto the hero’s shoulder. “...you’re impossible…”

“And yet you crawl back for more…sometimes literally-” Shouta laughed when Anthony pressed a hand to his face to shut him up, only making him want to hug the other tighter, so he did.

Sure they had things to do, places to be, but for now they could just bask in this peace.

Shouta could revel in getting to hold someone so precious so close, and after the man leaves for work, he and Odysseus would curl up for a nice long nap. But until then, this is where he wanted to stay.

[uncertainmess]

The Tour: First Impressions.

A new fic is up!! It's part of the Erasermic fic I'm writing. I made a series to include all the extra scenes and add more of baby Izu drabbles.

Summary:

Shouta and Izuku start a new day, heading out to check what could potentially be their new home. Wonder how that will go?

Feat: Shouta Vs. Car Seats Izuku Vs. Peas Someone Losing Chunks of Their Hair – And it’s not Shouta this time.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63729670

Here's a picture of their apartment (I googled floor plans and picked the one I liked.)

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

BNHA - A Quirk That Can Do Anything

A/N: This was originally posted on my Patreon some time ago, so be sure to think about pledging over there to see drabbles like this in advance! (And exclusive drabbles!)

Original Prompt by Istas (patron): EraserMic and Shinson. Soft, bone deep realizations. Hitoshi has heard his entire life all the bad things he could do with his Quirk. "You can make someone do Anything" sounds so scary to everyone, even to Hitoshi. But the first time he was able to use his Quirk to stop someone's panic attack, a quiet part of him went 'Oh'. He can do anything, and this is what he chooses.

Summary: Shinsou Hitoshi is having a little bit of a bad day regarding his quirk and just how ‘evil’ it could be. It’s then really hard to think of his quirk as something bad when he can use it to stop a kid from having a panic attack in the library.

Characters: Shinsou Hitoshi 

Pairing: Background Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

Rating: General 

Word Count: 2,693

AO3 Link

---

“It’s called Brainwashing. It’s certainly a powerful quirk. It’s an emitter that allows the user to put their target in a state where they are forced to obey all of the user's commands. It’s something to be careful with as he’s growing.”

“I know we agreed to foster him, but surely there’s another family that’s better suited. We have small children and with a quirk like that…”

“Hey! I heard you’re the kid with the brainwashing quirk! How come you’re not already in jail? That’s a villain’s quirk, isn’t it? I mean, you can make anyone do anything.”

“Hey, Shinsou, we were just talking about quirks. Yours is pretty powerful, isn’t it? I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable with a quirk like that and all it can do. I mean, it’s a little creepy, right? Being able to control someone?” 

“Shut up! I know how your quirk works! But you can’t do anything to me if you can’t say anything, right?!”

“You’re applying where? Shinsou, come on, there’s no way you’re going to get into a place like U.A., I mean, yeah, your grades are pretty good, but… Your quirk. You know?”

“Shh, I don’t want him to hear, but we need to take him back. I can’t do this. I can’t keep someone in my home that has such a villainous quirk. What if he uses it on the kids? On us? I want him out of the house-!”

“Shinsou?” Startled out of his thoughts at the call of his name, Shinsou Hitoshi did his best to keep his breathing calm and steady as he looked over at where one of his new classmates was standing in front of him. It was Ashido, because of course it was. “Hey, you doing alright? You seemed kind of zoned out, there.” 

Trying to shrug it off, Hitoshi gave a little nod. “Sure. Just lost in thought. Where’s your horde of idiots?”

“Being idiots.” Following the gesture to where Bakugo, Kirishima, and Kaminari were all rolling around on the ground, knocking over desks and fighting and arguing like feral cats, Hitoshi snorted. “Just wanted to let you know that class ended a couple of minutes ago. Figured something was wrong since you’re usually one of the first ones out the door.”

“Like I said, just lost in thought,” Hitoshi waved off, not really wanting to share that he was once again reflecting on the quirk he had been cursed with. She was the type to be aggressively supportive and rat him out to Aizawa all at the same time. God he wished he had been put into Class 2B sometimes. 

“Uh huh.” Ashido crossed her arms and was in prime position to slip into therapy mode. Hitoshi looked around the room quickly and then realized he didn’t have to look far.

“Might want to corral them before they break something-” Beautifully timed, there was the sound of crunching wood and a shattering desk. Hitoshi smirked. “Well. Something else.” 

Ashido twisting around and opening her mouth to yell was all Hitoshi needed to enact his escape and slip out of the classroom. He must have been lost in memories longer than he realized. While there were a few stragglers, the halls were almost empty and there was the usual silence that settled once classes were over for the day.

At least that made it easier for Hitoshi to get to the library without dodging loud, excited students that sometimes couldn’t control their quirk. They were only a month into the school year and Hitoshi had almost forgotten how eager first years could be, especially with their quirk control — or lack thereof. Apparently, roughly ten or so years wasn’t enough to learn at least a little control. 

Ah, but Hitoshi was being bitter, wasn’t he? It wasn’t often anymore that he had his bad days. Ever since Shouta had taken him under his wing (and then fostered and adopted him with his husband who was Present Mic of all people), Hitoshi had gotten better about how he viewed his quirk. 

Hell, people at the Sports Festival — pro heroes — had said how useful his quirk could be for hero work. His classmates had been proud of him and threw him a party when he got into the hero course and his new classmates had thrown him another party. His quirk had even been a key turning point in the fight against All For One! He was at the point where he should more than see how useful his quirk could be to people. 

And yet… 

You can make anyone do anything you want! sounded terrifying to everyone — even to him. It was a ‘villainous’ quirk, nevermind that plenty of heroes had darker quirks that only weren’t called villainous because of the hero that wielded them. 

(There was a reason Eraserhead, who could take away quirks and Present Mic, who could render people deaf, were his favorite heroes. He knew what it felt like to have a dangerous quirk.)

Focus, Hitoshi chided himself, shaking the thoughts off as he finally reached the library and slipped inside. Getting lost in his head and feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to help anybody, especially him. Besides, the longer he went feeling sorry for himself the more likely it was his dads would notice and try to be aggressively supportive. 

Heading for his usual table near the back of the place Hitoshi noted that the librarian wasn’t at the desk and instead stocking shelves or chasing off idiots. That also meant, though, that there was no one to call for backup or help when he suddenly heard gasping breaths tearing through the air, sounding like someone couldn’t breathe. 

If it was even half a year ago Hitoshi would have paused and been torn on what he should do. After everything, though, he didn’t even hesitate before he was rushing towards the sound and cursing the fact that students weren’t allowed to carry their weapons on them at all times. The binding cloth would be really useful if Hitoshi was about to come across some insane villain who decided attacking a U.A student was- 

Ah.

Shit. 

Instead of a villain attacking a student, which Hitoshi could have much more easily handled, it was a perfectly healthy student collapsed on the floor and looking like she was in the middle of a panic attack and couldn’t calm down. 

Desperately withholding the urge to swear with enough curse words that he’d be grounded for a month, Hitoshi dropped his bag and then followed with himself. First things first, he needed to look as non-threatening as possible and then he needed to get the kid to start taking some deep breaths. Passing out from a panic attack wasn’t fun for anyone involved. 

“Hey, can you hear me?” A quick check to see how coherent she was, Hitoshi felt a little tension leave him when her eyes snapped over to look at him. The tension came back when he noticed how wild and stressed they were. “My name is Shinsou Hitoshi, a second-year student in the hero course. I’m not sure how aware you are, but you’re having a panic attack.” 

There was always a chance it was some type of allergic reaction, but Hitoshi couldn’t see any swelling or redness anywhere that would indicate it. He had also had enough panic attacks to be able to spot the difference between it and anaphylactic shock. He also had enough to know that saying it’s okay or just take a breath wasn’t going to do shit. 

Best way of dealing with it was, likely, going to be reassuring her that she was at least in a safe place. “You’re in the library at U.A. right now, which is about the safest place you can be. You don’t need to worry about any sudden attacks and even if you do pass out, Recovery Girl is still here and can help you. So I need you to try and get some breath in if you can, okay?” 

Hitoshi knew he didn’t exactly look like someone who was good at comforting kids, or even acted like it, but he at least knew how to keep an even, calm tone. 

It didn’t seem to be helping, though. 

Instead of calming down, the girl only seemed to be working herself up more and more — not that Hitoshi was shocked. She was definitely a first year, but she looked even younger than she should. Possibly skipped a few grades? Even if she was fifteen, feeling something like a panic attack probably made her feel like she was about to die. 

Looking around and praying for an adult or a burst of inspiration, Hitoshi froze as he saw his backpack slowly lifting into the air, followed by half a dozen books that were soon becoming a dozen.

Gaze snapping back to the girl, Hitoshi finally did let slip a swear as he realized that she had something like a levitation or telekinesis quirk and it was going wild around them. The last thing they needed was a bookcase falling down on them, too. 

“Okay- Okay.” Hitoshi needed to calm her down before her quirk ended up hurting her, him, or both of them. He also knew a perfect way to do it and felt half-sick even as he knew it was the quickest way. “I’m going to help you, okay? You need to be able to answer me verbally, though. It can be anything, you just have to respond to me, okay?” 

Hitoshi threw as much of his quirk into the question as he could, waiting breathlessly and with a rising sense of anxiety. When he finally heard the smallest, breathiest “Okay.” in response he grabbed onto the word and wrapped his quirk around the girl as carefully and tightly as he could. 

“Breathe in for two seconds. Hold it for four seconds. Breathe out four seconds. Repeat this three times.” His quirk had her firmly under control and Hitoshi watched as she began following his orders. There had been no point in ordering her to do the usual calming breaths when she had no air to spare, so working up to it was his best choice.

The books still floated around them, Hitoshi on edge as he silently counted out the amount of breaths he had ordered her to do. “Good. Now breathe in for five seconds. Hold it for six seconds. Breathe out for eight seconds. Repeat this five times.” 

Slowly, the girl’s chest started to rise slower and slower, her eyelids drooping even as the glazed look remained. She would be exhausted and crash as soon as she was sitting down and aware again, likely. 

“Really good. Now, carefully lower everything you’re lifting with your quirk, then release your quirk.” Standing up slowly and grabbing his bag once it was free of the quirk, Hitoshi ignored the books on the ground. “Stand up carefully and slowly. Once you’re steady, follow me.” 

Hitoshi had a wild thought that he had no idea what the punishment was for using a quirk on a fellow student when it was for good purposes, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be very lenient. Still, he wasn’t willing to release her until he had her in Recovery Girl’s office — then at least if she went right back into an attack there would be an actual medical professional to help. 

The walk was quick, at least, and the halls were clear of everyone which meant Hitoshi didn’t have to worry about someone asking why a first year was following after him blankly and quietly and obviously brainwashed. 

“Recovery Girl?” Forcing the thoughts and worries out of his head, Hitoshi knocked on the office door before opening the door. “Are you- Ah.” Recovery Girl was in. So were both of his dads. Because of course.

“‘Toshi?” Hizashi was the first one to speak, confused and then panicked. “Are you alright? What-”

“I’m fine,” Hitoshi blurted, cutting Hizashi off before he had to deal with two panicking people. “Just- Yeah. Alright.” Opening the door fully, Hitoshi looked back to the girl who he didn’t even have a name for yet. “Walk over to one of the beds and carefully lay down.” 

As ordered, the girl did so. Hitoshi half-expected some yelling or frantic questions as to what was going on, but somehow the dead silence was even worse. Still. He could run out of the room and book it to a hole to hide in once he was done.

Taking a slow breath, Hitoshi released the hold on his quirk until he no longer had control, walking over to the bed and standing a few feet away as the girl groaned and looked even more exhausted then he would have thought. “What…?”

“Hey,” Hitoshi called quietly, waiting until she focused on him. “You’re okay. I don’t know how much you remember, you were having what looked like a panic attack in the library. Started using your quirk a little. I- My quirk, it let me, well…” Shit. How did he explain that one? 

Before he could, the girl made a sound like she was going to cry and Hitoshi was about to jump out the window. He then froze as she whispered, “You made it stop.” It wasn’t said like an accusation. “Thank you.” 

“I…” Clearing his throat, Hitoshi forced himself to not look over at the adults. “My quirk is Brainwashing. I used it to help you calm down and get to Recovery Girl’s office.” 

“You helped me breathe.” Alright. She at least remembered everything, which was a good sign. Shrugging, and ready to make an excuse and run because the adults still hadn’t said anything, Hitoshi froze as the girl suddenly jumped off the bed and threw her arms around him in a hug. “Thank you.” 

“Oh- Uh.” Hitoshi raised and lowered his arms and then, very carefully, pat the top of her head. “You’re welcome?” Almost instinctively, he looked towards his dads for help. Instead of looking worried or disappointed or anything about him using his quirk, Shouta was smirking at him and Hizashi was looking ready to either cry or join in on the hug or both. 

Recovery Girl, proving that she was Hitoshi’s favorite, came to his rescue. “Alright, let’s get you back on the bed and we’ll give everything a look.” In short order the girl was shuffled to the bed, Hitoshi and his dads were pushed out of the room, and Hitoshi was being suffocated with hugs. 

“‘Toshi! I’m so proud of you!” Hizashi wasn’t quite yelling, but was damn close to it, and Hitoshi wasn’t sure how to react for a minute. 

It was made worse when he felt Shouta ruffle his hair, smiling at him and offering a quiet, “Good job, kid, using your quirk like that.” 

And, huh. Yeah. Hitoshi had just his quirk to stop a panic attack. 

His whole life, ever since his quirk had appeared, he had heard about how his quirk was villainous and evil and could be used to cause harm. He had always heard about the bad things he could do with his quirk, but… He had almost forgotten about the good he could do with it.

He had used his quirk to help his team win during the winter exam. His quirk had been the only way Aoyama and his family had been able to lie to One For All. His quirk had turned the tide in battle and put that giant on their side for a while. His quirk had helped someone break out of a panic attack. 

He kind of hated that it had really taken him so long for him to really get it, but he supposed he was at a hero school to learn just what he had. 

Because he could do anything with his quirk. He could choose to do anything with a quirk like Brainwashing. 

And that meant he could go above and beyond everyone who had ever said different and he could choose to do good with it, too.Plus Ultra, wasn’t it?

---

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Writing Commissions.

…or, if you prefer, you can just buy me a ko-fi! ☕  …or, if you have a nice allowance, support me on Patreon! 🪶

[phoenixfl3009]

Might delete this later, but I’ve been writing little drabbles to help get out of my rut and decided to experiment with ✨ omegaverse ✨ ft. Erasermic

I’m weak for Omega!Mic and Alpha!zawa and it shows 😩