#shinsou’s birthday

[nekoo3001]

Shinso's birthday! I was drawing something else but didn’t have time to finish it so I’m posting this one

[aizawamicfan]

Hes officially ancient. Happy birthday king 👑

[giggly-squiggily]

The Laziest Of Days (My Hero Academia)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY NYM!!! (@intheticklecloset) I come bringing you a classic but eternally lovely pair of Shindeku! :D Thank you for always being such a wonderful friend to me; I hope this brings you lots of joy on your special day! :D

Summary: It's a lazy day, and Shinsou decides to tickle his boyfriend. Lazily.

“Mmm..” Midoriya made a noise of annoyance as he glared at his phone, the tiny All Might dying once again to a large troll-like villain. “This boss is way too difficult to show up this early! I’m nearly out of health items too.”

Shinsou didn’t know much about video games and had nothing to add. Instead, he continued watching him play, enjoying the way his nose got all scrunched when he got serious. They were having a lazy day together, but the book in his hands suddenly lost all appeal the moment he realized he could openly gawk at his boyfriend without him realizing it. “Try a super move.”

“Can’t- I gotta build it up.” His determination grew, as did his serious face. Now the tip of his tongue was sticking out like a cat, further worsening Shinsou’s temptation to grab his face and kiss him right then and there. Why did he have to be so cute-

“Ah! Nuts!” Midoriya cried in defeat as he died once more, falling back into Shinsou’s open arms with a low groan. “That’s all the tries I have in me, today. Anymore and I’ll end up quitting.”

“You have more self-discipline than most.” Shinsou leaned into him, smiling against his hair. Yet another feature he loved; it was soft and feathery, tickling his nose with its woody scent. “Mmm..”

“Eh-ehehehee! Hitoshi, cahhareful! You’re tihihihckling me!” Midoriya squirmed in his arms when he got a little too close to his neck, lips twitching. “Yoohohu’re so affectionate today!”

“Like I said, you have more self-discipline than most.” Giving in, he leaned forward and pressed a sweet kiss behind Midoriya’s ear, making him yelp with laughter. “I greatly lack it.”

“Ahehaha! Gehahahhaha! Whahahait, Hihihihtohohohoshihiihieee!” He tried to worm away, but Shinsou’s arms came around him from behind, locking him down as he carried on kissing his neck and ears. “Cohohome ohohohn, thihihihs iihihihsn’t fhahahair! It’s lahahahazy dahahhahy!”

“I know.” Shinsou smirked against his skin, gently nibbling at his neck and making him squeal. “I’m tickling you lazily.”

“Oohohoh, hohohow on theheheme!” Midoriya tried twisting around to fight back, but then Shinsou started tracing his sides and stomach. His defenses? Shattered. “Ahaehhaahha! Whahhahat hahahhapened to beihihihng lahahahhzy?”

“This is lazy.” Shinsou grinned as he pressed his face into Midoriya’s, resting their foreheads together as he drank in his smile. “If I really wanted you, I could go for all those tickle spots that really get you going. Slowly rake my fingers up and down your sides, zoning in on that terrible spot along your ribs. Or maybe I’ll form claws and dig into that cute belly of yours until you’re as red as a strawberry and can’t think straight.” Shinsou’s grin grew at Midoriya’s deepening blush, kissing his warm cheeks sweetly. “You’re lucky I’m so nice.”

“Wohohohohohw, cohohohohlor me hohohohonohohohored!” Midoriya giggled back, muffled some by his boyfriend’s lips as he kissed him once or twice more. “Whahahaht a gehheehntleman- Ehehehehehek ohohohkay ohohohkay I tahahahke it bahahahck!” He practically shot up when his ribs were pinched at, increasing the feeling tenfold. “Lahahhahazy tihihihickles! Pleahahhahahse, be lahahahahzy!”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Laughing against Midoriya’s smiling lips, he returned to just barely tickling him, tracing his arms and torso just the way he liked it. “You’re really cute when you behave, darling.”

“Nohoohhohooho!” Midoriya all but whined at the pet name, burying his face into Shinsou’s shoulder to hide his tittering lips. “Sthahahap, nohohot thahahhat!”

“What? You can use pet names and I can’t?” Shinsou leaned in to kiss his ear, dropping his voice low. “Now be a good boy and let me tickle you.”

“GAH! Thahaht’s it!” The green haired hero cried, grabbing onto Shinsou and launching forward. A short bout of wrestling commenced until Midoriya had him pinned to the couch, looming over him as he giggled. “Yohoohohu’re done. Yoohohohou’re so dohohone!”

Shinsou squirmed back until he was comfortable, grinning ear to ear as he watched Midoriya compose himself. “Fair enough. I’m enjoying the view anyway.” He reached up, cradling his boyfriend’s cheeks within his hands. “I can see my whole world right here.”

Midoriya’s freckles were even more prominent when he blushed. Softening at his words, he leaned into Shinsou’s hands as he gazed down at him lovingly. “You’re so unfair.”

“Hm.” Shinsou shrugged with little remorse, welcoming the feeling of his boyfriend laying against his chest. “I know you love it though.”

“Shush before I lazily start tickling you.” He gave Shinsou’s side a pinch to really make his point. He settled soon after, closing his eyes and practically melting into him. “You’re so lucky it's a lazy day.”

“I really am.” Shinsou smiled against that feathery crown, pulling him closer as he felt Midoriya relax in his arms entirely. “I’m the luckiest guy in the whole world.”

Thanks for reading! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!

[a-ikuoliver]

HELLO LOVER

for your wittle event i am asking for hanky panky with… shinsou 😔 (also i love u bye)

HELLO LOVER!!!!!! thank u so much and im so so so sorry, i wrote this with my dick i can't even lie i don't remember half of this tw: toxic relationship + fingering (f!receiving) birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

fuck. fuck. fuck. “fuuuck,”

you ignore his chuckle when he shushes you, pressing a chaste kiss to the red mark at the side of your throat, his tongue already gliding over your skin before you can even fumble with the lock on the cubicle door. desperately, you clutch at his shoulders, blunt nails bruising the skin beneath his dark shirt when he nipped beneath your jaw again, sucking at the skin beneath your ear just to hear you suck in a hiss, revelling in how it hadn’t changed; he could still drive you crazy, could still cloud your mind with a single well-placed kiss.

fuck. you’d been so good; his number was blocked, you finally deleted that burner account you used to stalk his socials two months ago, you avoided the smoke shop on the corner near your place even though they had the cutest lighters and trinkets, you dyed your hair without worrying what he’d think about it. all of that, and still you end up here.

your lips are already swollen, tender from being sucked and bitten, shinso pulling you into the bathroom before it had even been an hour since you arrived, the taste of your cocktail still on your lips when he first kissed you. dizzy, you tug at his hips, breaking the kiss to breathlessly murmur his name, your heart jumping at the taste of it on your tongue after so long.

“shh, baby, i know,” his voice is so low and so gravelly when he whispers, his warm breath against your neck sending a shiver down your spine. you’re sure you’re soaking when he pops the button of your pants, sliding his hand down your abdomen into your underwear. he shudders feeling your soft skin, taking his time to drive you insane with his slow, electric touches to your drooling cunt; every touch deliberate, avoiding where you needed him until your hips were jolting, searching for him, until it was no argument how much you needed him.

his dark eyes sent a shock of lightning into your stomach when you finally felt the tip of his fingers at your clit, your body jumping into his touch the more he teased you. always obsessed with this push and pull, he wanted you to seek his touch, his body heat, his approval, he wanted you to seek him. if your eyes weren’t squeezed shut, you’d see the way his violet eyes glimmered watching your hips chase him.

you never should have tried to avoid him; you should’ve religiously checked his posts, zooming into every detail of the picture he posted smoking in the alleyway behind the bar, you’d have seen the logo printed on his chest if you had just stalked him. you’d know he dyed his hair darker (the exact deep indigo shade you loved on him), you’d know he changed his labret to a silver ring instead of the spiked post, you would’ve known how fucking good he looked. you would’ve touched yourself looking at the pictures of him instead of this, cum on your fingers again and again until it felt as good as he did.

you could have avoided this if you didn’t try to avoid him. if you hadn’t been so good.

you can’t help the whine that leaves you when he finally gives in, sinking his fingers into your needy cunt, infuriatingly slowly, like he’s savouring the way you pulse at every knuckle. shinso’s amethyst eyes are glued to your bitten lips, admiring the way your features changes when you grind your hips into his hand, how needy you look before he’s even moved. he’s still staring at you when he curls his fingers, dragging two fingers inside you just enough to have your jaw falling slack, to get your chest heaving, to get your cunt clenching around him like it always did; to make sure nothing had changed.

“god, i missed you,” you respond with a garbled version of his name, more of a broken moan than anything, unable to spit out anything else when he started fucking you with his fingers, pressing every button he knew would wind you up, working you closer to cumming before his break was over. he knew he could, he knew you inside and out, hatred or not, he could unravel you.

“you missed me, hm?” he nudges your jaw with his nose, smiling against your skin when your eyelashes flutter against your cheek, your breath catching in your throat, “i know your pussy did.”

i hate you, i hate you, i hate you, i hate you, every time your lips part to tell him as much, you can only moan instead, spouting gratitude, begging him not to stop, your anger from every argument melting from you the more your cunt drooled, the resentment deep inside you from every argument, every break up, swirling into something else the longer he fucked his fingers into you. did they even really matter when he had your cunt pulsing? when he could make you cum with one swipe of his thumb over your clit if he wanted to. he could probably make you squirt if you weren’t cramped in this cubicle with him. he decides he will when you come home with him, decides he’s going to taste you before the inevitable argument in the morning.

“fuck, you’re so hot when you act like you don’t need me.”

you can’t entirely tell if he’s being condescending, or if he wholeheartedly thinks every break up was foreplay. if he really thought you didn’t hate him for everything he did. for everything he didn’t do. for it always ending up like this. for every single ‘never again’.

“‘s always better when you’ve been avoiding me,” you still come undone, sticky cum coating his fingers when he talks down to you, that fucking face staring back at you when you meet his eyes again.

“but you always come back, don’t you?”

[plusultraetc]

I ended up having way too many unfinished fics to choose from for Shinsou's birthday, none of which were ao3-ready, so have this extra long snippet of my beloved ice cream shop au that I've spent way too much time on for a fic that might never actually get posted 😭

(the context here is that Shinsou & Kaminari are trying to get erasermic together, but Kaminari didn't know he was trying to set his teacher up with the music store guy bc he's only heard about him from Shinsou)

[wizzidoodles]

GUYS IT’S HIS BIRTHDAY

[tonerukun]

Happy birthday, Shinsou!! 💜💜💜

[puppyguppy]

You think he's come to kill you, to drink and fuck his fill, but no. He's come to claim you. 

That isn't to say he doesn't still fuck you, or devour you; and you're not sure which has you feeling closer to death, closer to damned. You feel spitroasted, between the six - maybe seven inches in one end, and the two or three inches in the other. The skin between your neck and your knees is on fire.

You beg for him -- not to stop, but just to put it out. As if he wasn't the source of the inferno in your veins. Still, he shushes you, soothes you with a kiss full of spit and blood, the touch just as cool in comparison to your spiking fever as the cum he fills you with; oddly refreshing, like an IV drip --

Drip.

Dream. Drop.

Through your sick-sort of sleep, you dream of a villain you'd once heard of, with metal in his mouth. But then the vision twists, and the metal is wrapped around a neck instead. A man made of moonlight and shadow, but with eyes that glow like a streak of sunset. Gold, to red, depending -- they'd been gold when he greeted you, when you let him in, but then red as he kissed you, killed you. You snap awake gasping, choking, not from a lack of air, but from too much of it. Your lungs feel full, expanded to their limits, stiff and gaping as you blink your bedroom back into your brain. Your neck itches, but when you squirm, it's just to realize that you're stuck. Pinned down by a hand in your hair, and a hand on your chest. Your fight and flight kicks in, and you're ready to bite, to scream and run --

He tuts above you.

Aizawa, as they call him. Shouta, as he let you call him. Your curse, his lover, your killer, his claim --

"Move too much and you'll only make it ugly."

You want to ask what. What will you make ugly. But then, through the pounding of your head (but not in your chest), you register a sliver of sunlight streaming in through your curtains. It's the soft, pale periwinkle of sunrise -- and it scalds perfectly across your neck like white, hot lightning. It sears your flesh, now that you're allergic to it; scarring across your throat until he forces you to roll over, like a goddamn rotisserie chicken. You hiss and cry into the pillows until he's finished with you, drawing the curtain closed only once you feel the circumference of your new, permanent collar connect across the nape of your neck. 

Because the bitemark wasn't enough?  Your throat hurts too much to give the question a voice; charred and scarred on the outside, parched on the inside. And yet, there’s something sort of like an answer that fills your head. It forms like TV static, a little sharp and fuzzy, a voice not your own, a laugh not your own. It makes your bones tingle and itch, like they’re stuck on standby, waiting for your brain to tell them what to do. Except, when you try to tell them to shift into a more comfortable position, they don’t. They don’t listen. And anxiety feels weird when not accompanied by a racing heart.

You feel him before you hear him, and then you hear him before you see him, and then when you finally, finally see him, it’s already too late. You know him. He’s made of the very same shadows, the very same moonlight, but there’s something…something softer about him. His eyes burn on you, inside of you, but pleasantly so – unlike the sun you’ll surely miss. The sun that’s surely burning at his back right now, if he’s really, truly the same. Same body language, same bags under his eyes, same strange scarf. A stranger, but already a comfortable guest amidst your stream of consciousness, whether welcome there or not.

He tells you to sleep.

That it’s still too early.

Sleep, you’ll feel better later.

Sleep, and then you’ll eat, you’ll drink, and you’ll be grateful that it’s Aizawa that’s claimed you.

Created you.

[aristocratic-manors]

Silly guys b-day 🥳

I really hate drawing his hair actually

[epickiya722]

As they should! Congrats, boys!

[bloody-bee-tea]

Family

Me, writing Aizawa a birthday fic where he barely even features? More likely than you think. Happy birthday to our resident caterpillar and most sleepy teacher-dad.

Hitoshi knows that something is going on the moment he comes home. The energy at home is totally off and it puts him on edge immediately, because he can't quite figure out if it's something good or something bad and until he knows for sure, old habits kick in.

And that means being wary, being tense and careful and trying to be as unobtrusive as he possibly can be.

Even though he has been with Aizawa and Yamada for close to a year now, it still comes easy to him and he carefully inches his way into the apartment. Hitoshi finds Yamada in the kitchen, humming under his breath as he puts away groceries and it's normal enough, it should be normal enough, but there's something in the air, an excited energy all around Yamada that puts Hitoshi's teeth on edge.

It's probably not even anything bad, but heightened emotions meant danger for Hitoshi for so long that he thinks he can be excused for being wary.

Still, he apparently trusts Yamada—and his place in their home—more than he thought because instead of hiding himself away like he would have just a year ago, he steps into the kitchen, still careful, still wary, but not terrified out of his mind.

"I'm back," Hitoshi forces himself to say and almost flinches when Yamada whirls around to him a second later, but he relaxes when a smile overtakes Yamada's face.

"Welcome home," Yamada cheerfully says and steps close to pull Hitoshi into a hug.

Hitoshi is always warmly greeted when he comes back home, but this is unusual, even for Yamada who is more touchy than Aizawa and Hitoshi combined and so Hitoshi can't help but to frown when he's being released.

"What's going on?" Hitoshi wants to know because something has to be, there's no other explanation for Yamada's behaviour and he's proven right when Yamada gives him a sheepish expression.

"Sheesh, you're just as bad as Shou, I can't keep anything from you, huh?"

"Well, you are kind of obvious," Hitoshi gives back and it makes Yamada laugh, further soothing the worry that's still lingering in Hitoshi.

"Okay, fair," Yamada easily agrees and then pulls Hitoshi over to the kitchen table. "And I actually need to rope you into this, so it's only fair that you learn about this in advance. But—" and here he levels Hitoshi with one of his serious looks "—you need to keep this a secret from Shou until tomorrow."

Hitoshi blinks.

"Why?"

It never bodes well to keep secrets from his caretakers, no matter how open and welcoming they have been and especially not if one wants to pit him against the other.

Hitoshi chides himself for that thought as soon as it crosses his mind because Yamada and Aizawa are not like that; they love each other and Hitoshi is confident that even if they were having a fight, neither would drag Hitoshi into the middle of it.

So instead of jumping to conclusions, Hitoshi forces himself to take a deep breath and then says "I need you to explain this."

Immediately, Yamada's face falls.

"Right, shit, I'm sorry, Hitoshi. Of course." Yamada waves him closer to the table, where Hitoshi sees a brown envelopee. "I'm going to explain, and of course you're not obligated to keep this a secret, but I would really like it if you could, until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is Aizawa's birthday," Hitoshi slowly says, eying the envelope again.

"It is. And this—" he taps the envelope "—is his present. Well, all our present, really, but Shou gets so—" Yamada cuts himself off and starts again before Hitoshi can even think to voice his confusion. "Those are your official adoption papers," Yamada then tells him unceremoniously and for a moment Hitoshi's ears ring and he can barely breathe.

"They are?" he asks, voice full of hope and his fingers twitch with the need to pick the envelope up.

"They are. It's official now," Yamada nods and then sighs. "You and Shou put way too much weight on a single stupid piece of paper," he then mutters with a shake of his head and Hitoshi frowns.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asks, more biting than the situation maybe warrants, but this 'stupid piece of paper' as Yamada so nicely put it is the single most important thing in Hitoshi's life right now. And possibly for the foreseeable future.

"Hitoshi. Kiddo. You're our son. We already have a veritable book of papers in this apartment, stating exactly that. We're your primary caretakers. We're your foster parents. We're your medical proxies and your emergency contacts. We have all of that documented already. All this piece of paper is doing, is replacing half of the papers we already have, telling us exactly what we already know. I know it's important to you and Shou, and I get it to a certain extent, but you are our son already. This is not going to change that."

"But it's not permanent. Or, well, it wasn't. I could be taken away from here any second," Hitoshi argues, because he knows the system. Things can change at the drop of a hat and only the adoption papers will give him the security he needs to know that this is it. That it's permanent.

"Come here," Yamada says as he takes a seat at the kitchen table and Hitoshi slowly follows his example, sitting down on the chair next to him.

"First of all, it's not quite so easy to take you away from us," Yamada starts and he silences Hitoshi before he can even argue that point. "I know you've had quite the different experiences, but it really isn't. For you to be taken away from us, a few things have to happen. First, someone would need to raise concerns about your living situation."

Yamada looks at him, clearly waiting to give any indication that he understands and so Hitoshi nods.

"Next, your social worker has to listen to them. She will, because that's her job and she's thorough with it so she'll schedule a visit. A visit that will raise no red flags with her, because there are no concerns about your living situation. Right?"

Yamada asks this as if he expects Hitoshi to say something different and he's quick to shake his head.

"This is the best home I've ever lived in," Hitoshi mutters, and even though Yamada knows this, he's still embarrassed to all hell about it.

"Okay, I'm glad you think so. Well, I'm not glad you've had so many bad experiences, but—you get it," Yamada rambles and Hitoshi smiles because it's such a Yamada thing to do. "Anyway. Once she notices that there are no red flags here, she'll talk to you in a one-on-one, asking if there's anything going on that would need her attention. If you say no, that's it. And even in the case that you should say yes, you'll only be removed from our family temporarily, until more concrete proof can be found."

"That's never how it went. I was always just—moved," Hitoshi gives back and Yamada nods.

"I know. But that's really not how it's supposed to go. It's a whole, involved process, and that's not only because we're pros or because we know your social worker. That helps, undoubtedly, but it's not a deterrent should she find anything wrong. You being taken from us won't just happen."

Hitoshi takes a moment to mull that over and he can't deny that it helps to know this. No one has ever taken the time to explain this to him and with what happened in the past it didn't even occur to Hitoshi to question the process.

And even though the adoption papers are finally here, it still helps to put him at ease.

"And second?" he finally asks, much to Yamada's apparent confusion

"Huh?"

"You said first of all, which implies there's a second point to this," Hitoshi explains and now Yamada gives him a grin that borders on the line of unhinged.

"If you think we'd simply let you be taken from us, then you're sorely mistaken," Yamada gives back. "You're our son. We agreed that if anything happened or if the HPSC tried to pull any bullshit, I'm allowed to go full on villain."

Hitoshi takes a moment to digest that before he shakes his head.

"Aizawa would never allow that," he argues because there is no way he would simply stand by and watch Yamada go off the rails but Yamada only continues to smile at him.

"Of course he would. Hell, it's his plan! He was all prepared, even had a villain name ready for me. Seriously, can't come up with his own hero name but has a villain name for me ready to go at a moment's notice. That guy, honestly." Yamada shakes his head and everything about him screams fond so loudly that Hitoshi fears he's about to go deaf.

"You'd—do that? For me?"

"Kiddo, we'd burn the entire world down for you, if it'd made you happy," Yamada replies without hesitation and he looks so earnestly that Hitoshi has no other choice but to believe him.

Hitoshi leans forward, practically begging for a hug and Yamada doesn't hesitate to give him exactly what he's asking for.

"I'm really happy to be your son," Hitoshi mutters into his chest and Yamada presses his cheek against the crown of his head.

"Tell Shou that when you hand him the adoption papers and he's going to cry," he hums out and Hitoshi frowns.

"He doesn't cry," he says, because he's pretty sure Aizawa is way too stoic for that, but Yamada huffs out a laugh.

"Bet," he only gives back and Hitoshi nods, because there's just no way, right?

"You really want to give him this as his birthday present?"

"No, kiddo, I want you to give him this as his birthday present. I know we don't talk much about our own families, but Shouta's is—distant. They are estranged and have been for years at this point. Shouta tries to not let it show too much but he's a family man, through and through and it hurts him every year when they don't call."

"So you think when I give him this, it'll alleviate some of that pain?"

"I think when you give him this, it's going to make him happier than he has been in years."

"Happy enough to make him cry," Hitoshi says, still doubtful about that but Yamada nods. "When even was the last time he cried?"

Hitoshi can't imagine him shedding even one tear; not only because of his quirk but also because Aizawa appears to be so stoic, as if nothing can really touch him. Hitoshi knows better by now—you tend to learn a whole lot of things about people you live with and who want you in their life, it turns out—but still. Crying?

"When you said you wanted to stay with us," Yamada immediately replies and Hitoshi jerks back in his surprise.

"He did not!"

"He did, later that night, when we went to bed," Yamada says with a small smile. "He was really happy about it, you know. And he's going to be really happy about this, too." Yamada nods at the envelope. "Do you want to give it to him for his birthday, or do you want to do it when he comes home?"

Hitoshi is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Aizawa apparently cried when he said he wants to stay with them, and he thinks it's kind of mean to keep this from Aizawa, no matter if it's just for a day.

So, a compromise might be in order.

"He'll come back late, anyway, right? Can I give it to him after midnight?"

Yamada narrows his eyes at him, pursing his lips in thought.

"Is this a ploy to get me to allow you to stay up during a school night?" he then asks and Hitoshi snorts.

"I'd be up anyway. I don't sleep much," he reminds him, and even his medication is barely helping with that, though at least lately he sleeps through once he manages to fall asleep.

"Do we need to adjust your meds?" Yamada wants to know almost immediately but Hitoshi shakes his head.

They might have to, later, but right now he really doesn't want to think about this.

"Can I stay up?"

"Sure," Yamada says with a sigh after a moment of deliberation and Hitoshi allows himself a little celebratory wiggle in his chair.

They spend the rest of the evening like they would on any other day, but now Hitoshi understands why there was this undercurrent of anticipation when he first came home; he, too, is beyond excited to hand Aizawa the envelope, to have it be official, no matter if his place here was already guaranteed or not.

When Aizawa finally comes home, he seems to pick up on it immediately as well, because he narrows his eyes, first at Yamada and then, when he only gets a big smile in response, at Hitoshi.

"Why are you still up?" he then asks because it's ever inching closer to midnight but Hitoshi copies Yamada and gives Aizawa nothing but a bright smile.

"You're plotting something and I am not a fan," Aizawa grumbles as he unspools his capture weapon from his neck.

"Ah, but you're going to love it," Yamada reassures him as he steps close for a kiss. "Welcome home. Everything go okay?"

"Quiet night," Aizawa replies, though a small smile curves his mouth. "I'm home."

At first Hitoshi thought it was incredibly cheesy to have this exchange every time one of them comes home, but he gets it now. It makes their home feel warm and loved and Hitoshi never fails to participate, too.

"Welcome home," he adds and gets a glare for his troubles, because clearly Aizawa is not yet convinced that it's not for any nefarious reasons.

Still, Hitoshi keeps quiet, the envelope safely hidden away in his room and he can practically feel himself watch the time crawl on, until finally, it's time.

Yamada gives him a meaningful look as he captures Aizawa's attention effortlessly and Hitoshi slips away to retrieve the envelope. Once it's in his hands, the nerves settle in, which is just beyond stupid.

Aizawa is going to love it, there's no doubt about that. He pushed harder for this than Yamada or even Hitoshi himself and he's going to love it.

Still, Hitoshi's hands shake when he makes his way back to the living-room and Yamada must know it because he gives Hitoshi a reassuring smile.

"Would you look at that, Shou, it's past midnight," Yamada exclaims once Hitoshi reaches the couch. "Happy birthday." It's added so softly that Hitoshi feels himself flush, especially when Aizawa tries to hide his smile in the scarf he's no longer wearing and before this can get any more awkward for Hitoshi he clears his throat.

"Happy birthday," he too says and hands Aizawa the plain, brown envelope.

Aizawa raises an eyebrow at him, but Hitoshi forces his face to be stoic and he simply watches how Aizawa looks over at Yamada before he sighs and opens the envelope up.

Hitoshi gives him a moment take the papers out, to read what it states, before he says "I'm really happy to be your son."

Hitoshi doesn't need to look over to Yamada to know that his eyes are brimming with tears, and he himself is not doing any better, because even his voice gives away how emotional he is about this.

It's nothing to Aizawa's reaction though.

Hitoshi watches how his face goes slack, the paper slipping right through his fingers and then suddenly Hitoshi finds himself crushed to Aizawa's chest.

"Our son," he whispers and even though Hitoshi can't see his face it's more than apparent that Aizawa really is crying.

Hitoshi wouldn't have thought it possible, but now that it's happening, it only makes him press more firmly into the hug.

"Happy birthday, Shou," Yamada says again and Hitoshi can feel the shuddering breath Aizawa releases.

"How? It was supposed to take another week, minimum!"

"I pulled some strings. You know how it is, with bureaucracy. It was basically all done anyway, it just needed one last signature and I made sure that happened sooner."

Yamada hadn't mentioned that before, but Hitoshi is not really surprised. If anyone could have pushed this along, of course it would be him.

"Thank you," Aizawa breathes out and presses his face into Hitoshi's hair. "Welcome home, son," he then adds and now that's enough to make Hitoshi cry, too.

Wonderful.

At least he can be sure to be in good company, because when Yamada gathers them both up in a hug, he's most definitely crying as well.

Hitoshi thinks a few years back, or with other people, he would have minded, but not now. Now, it only feels right, and like being home, and being loved and having a family.

Everything Hitoshi never thought he'd have, handed to him, because Aizawa and Yamada willed it so, because they want him as their son, badly enough that finally having it is enough to move Aizawa to tears.

"Best birthday present ever," Aizawa says in that moment and squeezes Hitoshi tight. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Shou," Yamada mutters and Hitoshi nods, because words are escaping him right now but he still needs to convey how grateful he is, too.

Yamada made him promise that he'd go right to bed after this, but Aizawa seems just as unwilling to let go of Hitoshi as Hitoshi is to move away and going by the fact that Yamada still has his arms around them, too, he's in no rush to send Hitoshi off to bed either.

And it's just right, Hitoshi thinks, that they spend a little bit more time on the couch, together.

As a family.

[softkya]

Oh my god, I almost forgot Shinsou's birthday?? I am terrible, I also forgot about Denki's birthday, what a disaster.

Anyways

Happy brithday Hitoshi and Denki (late), my faves

They drive me insane

[giggly-squiggily]

A Special Kind Of Pen (My Hero Academia)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY NYM!!!!! :D To the amazing @intheticklecloset! Thank you for being such a great friend to me; you never fail to make me smile and I'm beyond grateful to have the chance to befriend you! I hope you enjoy this humble birthday gif featuring your boys Shindeku! :D

Summary: Midoriya's love for keeping a notebook is something Shinsou supports completely. However- the scratchy pen he uses however- not so much.

Midoriya had two great loves in his life: Shinsou, and his notebook.

No but really- the green haired hero kept that thing on him 24/7. Anytime they had hero work to do and opportunity was there, he’d whip it out and fill out a section. Post work- Midoriya was filling out the day’s events on the bus ride home, doodled in pictures and everything. Sometimes if they were lucky he could get a picture with whatever hero they ran into. He’d stick those in his notebook as well.

Shinsou couldn’t complain. There was something so joyful about the way Midoriya worked in it; using the scrapbook kit Shinsou got him for christmas to really bring his analysis journal to life. He scratched and scribbled away for a good hour most nights; occasionally mumbling to himself the things he wrote.

But that’s just it.

The scratching.

Scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch. 

The pen Midoriya used was old- really old. It was also something he treasured- likely the reason being “Vintage All Might merch”- though if you asked Shinsou it looked more like the pens that came in a happy meal toy. It worked fine for the most part, but it made the most dreadful noise against paper. Sometimes Shinsou could hear it even when Midoriya wasn’t around.

He’d found ways around it; headphones in with music playing, watching TV while Midoriya worked in another room, etc. He even had a gentle but firm conversation with Midoriya about the pen- “Could you at least use a different one during the night?” he asked.

His boyfriend was a sweetheart and worked with his compromises, and for the most part; things were fine.

Today though. Today was truly testing him.

Scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch. 

Shinsou had been staring at the same equation for the past five minutes, the sound of that damn pen far too distracting. His usual go-to’s weren’t there; his headphones needed to charge and TV was far too distracting while doing homework. Not to mention he hadn’t seen Midoriya all day today and didn’t want to waste a second apart; meaning they decided to do their work together in their bedroom.

Together- and that freaking pen.

“Oh man- please don’t die on me now.” Midoriya tapped it against his palm a few times, trying to get the ink to flow. His notebook- usually fairly pigmented, was faded; a sign the pen was on its last leg. “Come on- just a few more pages!”

“Why don’t you put it in a case? Really memorialize it.” Shinsou offered, trying not to let his giddiness show in his voice.

“What- no way! This is too precious to never use again. OH! I have ink refills!” Midoriya smiled as he put down the pen, hopping out of the bed and running to the hallway closet. “I can change the ink out and it’ll be good as new!”

“...steller.” Shinsou sighed when his boyfriend left, glaring at the pen. The design was starting to fade, All Might’s smiling face looking less defined by the day. Such an old pen- it wasn’t like there weren’t more out there! All Might’s legacy lived on despite his retirement; people still make tons of stuff with him all over it- including pens!

Staring at the villainous weapon, Shinsou made a bold decision.

~~~

“Okay- I got the ink; I thought I had more but I ran out. Luckily Yaoyorozu was still up so she made me another…” His words trailed off as he sat down, realizing his pen was missing. “Huh…Hito? Have you seen my pen?”

“Last I’ve seen it was in your notebook. Did it roll away?” Shinsou didn’t look up from his own work, but he did peek as Midoriya checked around himself. “Do you want another pen?”

“No- I can find it.” Midoriya looked beneath the bed, patted smooth the wrinkles of the blankets, patted himself down. Nothing. “Where’d it go? I literally just had it!”

“Strange.” Shinsou nodded, checking around himself too. “It’s okay- the thing was dying anyway. We can get you a new one.”

“.....” Midoriya blinked, then he looked at him. “Hitoshi.”

Oh no. “Yes?” He asked innocently.

“Hito- my shining star.” Midoriya climbed back into the bed, tossing his notebook shut as he crept over. “My blinding moon, the love of my life.” Oh damn- he’s laying it on thick with the pet names! Hitoshi felt his collar heat up as he was pushed back against the pillows. “My star crossed love. Did you take my pen?”

“Why would I do that?” Shinsou asked, hating how shaky his voice sounded but hoping it’d come off from how close they were. “I have plenty.”

“Hito.” Midoriya was sitting on him now, easily taking his wrists in hand before pinning them above his head. “Darling.”

“Izuku-

“Did you take my pen?” His free hand raised up, fingers wiggling. Shinsou held his breath. “Last chance.”

“I..did not.” He declared, fate made. Midoriya only smiled.

Then the tickles began.

“AH! Ahhahahahhahha, I-Iihihihihizuku!” Shinsou jumped when a hand found his belly, pushing past his gengar hoodie and tickling the skin beneath. “Aheahhhahahhaha, I dihihihiidn’t I sweahahahhare!”

“Sure you didn’t. That’s why you’re laughing right? Cause you’re being truthful?” Midoriya teased, really going for the soft spots along his torso as he dragged his fingers against his belly. “I’m SO convinced!”

“Ahehahahahhaha, yohohoohoohu’re so sahhhahhahssy tohohoohooday! Gehahhahahaha, wahhhaait- wahhhahait doohohohohohn’t!” Shinsou arched when that dastardly hand moved to his side, walking up and down his ribs with ease. “Nohohoohot the rihhihihihibs!”

“Tell me where my pen is~” Midoriya requested, focusing his efforts on the middle set knowing how ticklish it was for Shinsou. “That’s all you gotta do. Then this will all be over!”

“Nehehehehehhehver! Wahhahait I meahhehehaha- I doohohohn’t knohohoohow AH!” Shinsou all but squealed when Midoriya switched from prodding to pinching, sending a new feeling of ticklishness throughout him. “Ihiihiihihzukuhuhuhuhuu!”

“Never? So you DID take it!” Midoriya shook his head, more amused than anything. “Where’d you hide it, Hito? Is it here? Here?” His hand was everywhere- prodding at each side of his ribs as he “searched” for his pen. “Did you hide it in your ribcage? Or is it beneath your arm?”

“Aheahhahhahahahha! Ihihihihzuku, don’t you dahHAHAHAHHAHAHRE!” Shinsou all but screamed when his armpit was tickled, pulling at his boyfriend’s grip reflexively. “FIIIHIIHIHINE I’LL THEHHEHEHEHELL YOOHOOHOOHOU!”

Satisfied, Midoriya stopped his tickles, waiting patiently.

Gasping for air, Shinsou ran a hand over his flushed face, giggling through greedy breaths. Then he reached behind him, pulling the pen out from beneath the pillow. “Thehehehere…”

“Was that so hard?” Midoriya teased, taking his pen back. He leaned down and pecked Shinsou on the lips before crawling back to his original spot, taking off the bottom of his pen to change the ink.

“Eheh..heheh…Why do you insist on using that pen anyway?” Shinsou asked when he could, sitting up so he could watch. “I know it’s All Might, but you could easily have Yaoyorozu make you an identical pen; one that doesn’t scratch the paper.”

“...you really don’t remember?” Midoriya looked up after he changed the ink out, giving it a few clicks with a nod. “You gave it to me.”

“I did? When?” Shinsou blinked, surprised at the revelation. Then it hit him.

~~~

“Check it out!” A guy in his class- Shinsou couldn’t remember his name- ran up to him with three bags. They were bright and colorful- the back featuring an array of pens with various prohero designs. “I got these on sale! They’re mystery bags!”

“Oo, can I have one?” A girl ran up. The guy didn’t hesitate handing her one. Then he smiled at Shinsou, giving him the other. “I only really want Best Jeanist. If you get him- we’re trading!”

“Oh I…” Shinsou looked down at the package. That’s all it took for the guy and girl to run off, him hooting about getting Jeanist and her swooning over her new Hawks pen.

“I guess I’ll take it.” He opened it and peeked, brows raised.

~~~

“I knew you loved All Might- you were the first person to come to mind when I opened it.” Shinsou laughed at the memory. What was that- a year ago? They weren’t dating yet- but the way Midoriya’s face lit up upon receiving such a gift, the tears of joy staining his eyes and the death grip he gave Shinsou when he hugged him; it was all a core memory he’d never want to lose.

“I know! I was so shocked when you gave it to me- I’ve used it everyday since.” Midoriya twirled it in his hands, expression fond. “It’s a little scratchy- I think the twisty part nicked- but I could never get rid of it. It was the first present you’ve ever given me and the second best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Second? What’s the first?” Shinsou raised a brow. Midoriya only smiled.

“Your heart.”

Shinsou flushed, eyes widening. Then he smiled- a soft one that melted Midoriya on the spot. “Oh you…come here.” He pulled the other close, kicking away their notebooks and homework for a proper cuddling session. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Midoriya leaned up and kissed him.

They could do homework some other time.

Thanks for reading! And a happy birthday to you, Nym :)

[a-ikuoliver]

Happy two year anniversary!!

I’d like to order three Jager Bombs. One for me and Mr. Plague daddy Overhaul over there. The other is for the girl of the hour of course 😉

(Psst- not sure if it’s my app but the links to your rules isn’t working ;-; I’d overhaul is a no go for you pls feel free to replace for Bakugo/Shinso. Whichever you’re more inspired to write 💚. Happy two years!!)

thank u bby! i appreciate the bomb for me too teehee i wrote this for shinso bc i don't write for overhaul but i think tumblrs been having issues with the links but thank u for sending one in either way! i hope u enjoy <3 birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

“can i get a jagerbomb? pl-pease?” your bright smile falters for just a moment when you try to keep your tone as even as possible at the spike of stimulation between your thighs, the slowly-dying battery kicking into life every few moments before settling to a low buzz again. shinso eyed you lazily, purple eyes looking you up and down, specifically drawn to the way your thighs squeezed together the moment you pulled yourself onto the barstool, before finally settling at your eyes.

“that’s everything?” oh, his voice is so deep, and you’re already so sensitive, the shiver running down your spine, your thighs nearly trembling at the low timbre.

if he was anyone else in this bar — drunk patron, high server — he wouldn’t have noticed the way you reacted to the sound of his voice, the miniscule changes in your demenour with every syllable that passed his lips, every letter senting a jolt straight to your aching clit. unfortunately for you, he’s awfully perceptive, noting every shiver, every jump, every squirm when he gets you your drink, and your second, and by the third he’s sure you’ve got a cute little vibrator tucked in the front of your panties; only half charged he’d guess by the way you kept wiggling, raising your hips into it as much as you could without drawing attention to yourself, despite how desperate you were to ride the poor toy until it either gave out or you did.

studying you from the far end of the bar, shinso watches you nearly choke on the drink when another strong burst of life from the toy, the surge getting you closer than the others had, your desperation to cum starting to show. glancing around the other customers, confirming all of them drunkenly dancing and cheering, you adjust in your seat, squeezing your thighs closer together, your eyelashes fluttering when you grinded firmly down onto the toy.

you’re so fucking desperate, nearly humping the chair the moment you think no ones watching you. hoisting himself off the edge of the bar, he stalks back towards the dimly lit corner you stayed in, a satisfied expression gracing his features when you froze in your spot, “you want another drink?”

his tone is bored when he gestures to the empty glass in front of you, but his eyes are anything but, lit ablaze by your nervousness, his violet iris growing darker when you stared up at him with wide, shocked eyes. leaning his forearms on the bar, he leaned closer, close enough you worry if he can hear the steady buzzing coming from between your slick, shaky thighs, “or did you just come here to get off?”

your chest tightens, your mouth bobbing open and shut dumbly, mumbling sounds that weren’t quite entire sentences, hardly even words, not quite managing to spout your innocence. the more you stumbled over your words, the hotter your face got, and the faster the blood rushed from his head, the more he wanted you.

“don’t bother trying to deny it, baby, you like geting off like this. with no one else having any idea what you’re doing over here,” he tilts his head curiously to the side, his lilac gaze as intense as it was when your eyes first met his, studying you, the way you squirmed the more he spoke.

he drops his voice, whispering lowly into your ear, “tell me you like it, and i’ll help you.”

your pupils nearly swallow your iris staring up at his wicked smile, your hips rolling subconsciously the longer he stares you down. parting your lips to speak, no sound escapes your wet lips.

shinso knows exactly what you want, but still, he scrunches his eyebrows, even going as far to cup his ear, “sorry, baby, what was that? it’s so loud in here, i couldn’t hear you.”

you flush again, finally mustering your voice, “please.”

quirking an eyebrow at you, he tosses up taking pity on you, hearing your sweet voice plead with him was enough to get his cock aching, but was it enough to get him to fuck you stupid? to finally have you cum? voice dripping in condescension, he whispered to you once more, “oh, sweetheart, you think you deserve to cum begging like that? that was pitiful.”

he stands back up straight to his full height, taking a step back from the ring-marked counter, his heart rate spiking when you gently circle your fingers around his wrist, god, his pants were getting tight, “please, i wanna cum.”

[saturnsfallen]

happy birthday<333

WE LOVE YOU SHINSOU!!!!

[dmplk9503]

💜🎉