#that’s aizawa’s thing…

[byjovewhataspend]

the students got too rowdy after curfew and erasermic had to come out and scold them

sort of the goth couple equivalent to that 'flowing sheer robes vs sleeping cap and nightgown' couple meme.

[chellychuu]

Mew Mint doodle 🤍

[black-and-yellow]

[noobtothecrook]

[cesiscribbles]

Yes, I love making AUs / crossovers with my favorite characters and put them in my fav shows.

And yes, atm I am rewatching the first Good Omens season AGAIN so prepare for more ineffable erasermic art.

[haptronym]

Catching a nap in the faculty room

[tatakaeeren]

Aizawa senseiiiiii 😭

[kennnnnn3]

hey guys #doomed

[moodyvoid]

Dinner with Aizawa, Yamada, and Eri.

Eri: “Can I have some ice cream?”

Aizawa: “Finish your vegetables first.”

Eri, frowns: “Okay.”

Yamada: :(

Aizawa, leaves the room for 5 seconds.

Eri: “I’m done! Can I have ice cream now?”

Aizawa, seeing her empty plate: “Yes.”

Eri, happily running to get ice cream.

Aizawa, glaring at Yamada.

Yamada, mouth full of vegetables: “… What?”

[mics-bootlicker]

"Banger, listener"

"Our lips have touched don't call me listener"

[yugiohz]

busy

[byjovewhataspend]

Quirk accident!! Waaay too many Present Mics

guys please, give him a second to breathe...!

4 hours from now hes going to be a dried up husk

[black-and-yellow]

Hospital.

[bakubunny]

shota holds you in his arms with your back against his chest, your legs spread wide and shaky. his skin is hot. it soothes a small part of your soul every time he nuzzles in a little closer. his fingers are thick and long enough to have your head falling back into his shoulder. you pant as he slowly fingers you. it’s messy and it sounds lewd, but you’re floating, so far gone that you hardly notice. "that's it, babygirl.... just relax." his voice is soft and smooth and low, carrying every thought away with it. a moan falls from your lips, louder than expected when he massages a tender spot deep in your silken walls. “shota,” you slur, lost in his touch. tender kisses graze your skin and make you shudder. he’s taking his time, gently pulling you along from one orgasm into another as he talks you through each one….

shota can fuck you stupid any day of the week, but this? he cherishes it. it’s far less often that he gets to lift your burdens for a little while as he holds you in his arms.

[fluff-n-cookies]

Hey, love! I’m new to this, so sorry if I’m doing this wrong :) You can call me Moon btw. I love your writing and appreciate how it’s all platonic!!!! I was wondering if you could do Aizawa (and maybe Mic or whoever else you want) with an introverted teen he took in asking to braid his hair, and getting lost in thought and humming while listening to him complain about work or something. It’s fine if not <3333

Hi Moon! It's nice to meet you! I am so so so so sorry for replying so late. I was feeling burnt out and just really needed a break. I hope you understand. I was also hoping I could use this prompt for other characters so if you’ll give me permission I’d love to use your idea again for different characters. :)

Aizawa never liked coming home. He never liked the blinding white light bulbs that came with his crappy apartment and was too lazy to change, he didn’t like the smell of coffee and dirty dishes he felt were too overwhelming to do. He used to only have the energy to eat some soggy cereal and pass out on the couch before getting up to do hero work in the morning, or 2 am, or come home at 11 pm but that didn’t matter, it was just the same thing every day. 

But now, he had you. Being the sole survivor of a strange house fire at 1 am and having no memories whatsoever and having been considered shy and introverted. You were one with no guidance, no past and a future unknown and uncharted. And while you had been proven to have the intelligence of a child your age and then some, you had little to no knowledge of much else. You were a young girl in need of love and protection. (at least to him.)

So he took you in, begrudgingly, at first, but he soon felt a sense of comfort in your presence, a sense of happiness even. 

He even decided to pick up a parenting book or two, and found some mommy bloggers as well. I mean, what else is a man to do except try and be a good parent to a child he loves ever so dearly?

He learned he needed to make food for said child, instead of living off take out and what he can find at the convenience store next door. Children also need to live in a clean environment, so that is what he did, he tries to at least do the dishes and laundry regularly now. 

Guess he needs to listen too, because he often finds himself listening to your rants about school and homework, as well as the rants of your hobbies, about what you did today, how you felt today, so many things. And I guess, just a hunch, that his life was finally falling into rhythm. 

But it remained mostly the same.

Tonight was no different.

It goes;come home, take off shoes and coat, check if you’re awake, make some ramen (and some for you too if you are awake.) complain, go to bed. 

So here he is, tiptoeing to your room at the end of the hallway, careful not to wake you if you are asleep. Only to find that you are, in fact, awake. The warm light bulbs he installed in your room peaked through the crack in the door you had left for the cat to come at the ungodly hours of the night. You could also see the various trinkets and hobbies you had picked up over your 4 years of living together and made your room the heart of the whole apartment. Lively and bright. And there you were, hunched over your desk watching a video on your computer, fiddling with a piece of origami paper, attentively following the instructions from the video to try and make an origami frog. 

It took about 10 seconds to recognize he was there, smiling, happily at your antics. You smiled a little, but that smile made it all worth it to do what he does, be a hero and a single parent both at the same time, a smile that could light up even the darkest of nights. You did a little run too, you ran a little run to get to him but still tried to be light on your feet so as not to bother the neighbors.

Always so considerate. He thought. 

It was a regular routine really, for him to get you from your room and make some ramen, but as you two sat on the couch, TV was buzzing with the latest new stories (who needs a dining room table? Just use the couch! Why waste the space? It is the perfect space for your plants so for your plants it will be!) Something different happened today. 

For in the smallest little voice, he heard you squeak out,

 “c-can I braid your hair.” a slight tremble in your voice 

Now that was a surprise,

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m sorry, I meant it as in can I do your hair, I’m sorry I shou-”

“Sure.” he replied nonchalantly.

“What?” 

“You can braid my hair. Go on, the hair ties are in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” there was a pause. “Okay.”

Here he was, out in the dead of night at 12 in the morning, a young girl braiding his black locks of hair while he complained about PresentMic’s antics while eating convenience store ramen. For once in his life he felt at peace, as the world slowed down he felt himself slowly understanding. Understanding that it may be over, the repetitive nights of the never ending loneliness. It’s over.

And it starts here, with you, with tonight where you braid his hair and listen to him rant about the outside world. But here it’s safe, in this crappy apartment with the cool light bulbs and the distant stench of dirty dishes and the coffee he had this morning. It's okay. Life is okay.

Maybe he wasn’t doomed to have the same routine every day over and over again.