occasionally subtle
Stranger Things
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Love Begins
wallacepolsom
Today's Document
Acquired Stardust
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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shark vs the universe
titsay
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ellievsbear
Sade Olutola
Sweet Seals For You, Always
RMH
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Misplaced Lens Cap
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@erazur
#ERAZUR: A PRIVATE & FRIENDS ONLY AIZAWA SHŌTA, A.K.A. ERASERHEAD OF MY HERO ACADEMIA. HEAVILY AFFILIATED WITH LIVINGMIGHT. UNLESS WE'RE MUTUALS ELSEWHERE, DO NOT FOLLOW ME FIRST. NO RULES; EVERYONE HERE SHOULD KNOW WHAT'S UP.
BLOGROLL: @overhual, @manifeasts, @iceply, @plurarity.
shō’s quirk isn’t inherently flashy or powerful; it just levels the playing field, making those who rely too heavily on their quirks completely useless in battle. outside of his endurance between blinks, he trains primarily in detainment, hand-to-hand, and stealth combat, making him (i think) a bit more of a brawler than he gets credit for. he is a walking warning for those who use their quirk as a crutch, which is insanely sexy of him.
it’s also like… when i think of a hero, what a hero means and what they should stand for, i really do think of him. he runs into battle, facing insurmountable odds to protect his students, fights those with quirks significantly more powerful than his own and still comes up on top, endures the scrutiny of the media—which he despises—on behalf of his students, becomes the primary caretaker of eri, an unspeakably and horrifically abused child, personally trains shinsō, [spoilers about injuries], and [spoilers about his past ties]. come on man you can’t get any more heroic than that
hey.
shōta peers out of the small cleft in his sleeping bag, sleep-sodden eyes blinking away the bleary haze of awakening. alongside his disheveled appearance, weary and graceless as he appears to be, he looks, above all, to be remarkably displeased. " can't be time for class already, " he says, looking towards the clock. seven minutes out... curtly zipping himself back up, he twists his body to face the back of the couch, away from toshinori. " five more minutes. i'll be up. "
[ sends him a bouquet of flowers with a “youre my favorite hero” note on it. ]
reads the note, making a low sound of dissatisfaction. walks to his trash can to promptly drop the flowers and paper inside.
shōta has a number of vices, though namely he likes to drink* and, though only when particularly stressed, smoke (tobacco). he's starting to nick at the habit now that he's eri's primary caretaker — one, he just doesn't have the time to go out as often as he once did, and two, he'd like a clear mind when handling her — and while he won't stop completely**, he has inadvertently made healthier decisions because of eri.
on the topic of eri, taking care of her is one of the most humbling experiences that he's ever had to date. she teaches him things every day, whether she knows it or not. how to be better, do better, think better. the privilege of loving someone in this rite is unlike anything he's endured; for her [and for his students], he would move mountains. he would sacrifice himself entirely. and most importantly — most difficultly — he would live.
Let’s get married, Eraser!
i love fathers
" IF YOU HAVE TO ... " she would understand. an unstable late-teen versus whatever he and toshinori pretend not to have. it steps in, pushing a hand through his hair. he's been here, but never without toshinori. brows knit behind his bangs, taking in the surroundings once again. " sorry — i just need someone to talk to. " he finds the couch and runs a gloved hand over the arm before sitting. " i wasn't sure where else i could go, but if you're too tired— i can go. i'd get it. "
" I DON'T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING. " he shuts the door behind them, turning the lock to seal them inside. shōta's gaze follows tenko to the couch, though he stays standing, lumbering through his living room. i wasn't sure where else to go. his eyebrows knit slightly, leaning back against the opposite wall, folding his arms over his chest. it's by no means an unwelcoming gesture; as far as he's concerned, a kid is in need of his help. " i'm fine, " he dismisses, leaning his head back to rest against the wall behind him. " but i am wondering what brought you here. did something happen, tenko? "
IT'S BEEN TWO MONTHS SINCE ERI LEFT THE HOSPITAL. two months of shōta understanding who she is, two months of watching her break from her shell and emerge as something greater than her circumstances. she woke up excited to confront the morning, so his day was already starting off well by the time he helped her get ready to spend the morning with the big three. miso seemed less than pleased to see them leaving, though, and did his best attempt to sway them back into bed by headbutting at their ankles, performing figure eights between their legs.
by nine, shōta has her dressed, dropped off, and already attached to mirio's hip. it's a good thing that they'd connected so easily; togata seldom recognizes his own strength, these days. nejire says something about braiding her hair, and tamaki tells him they'll take care of eri while he's out. he leaves, never once doubting their capabilities. not after everything.
he's at the gainsborough's cottage by ten, sharp. tired from the evening's patrol, shōta is grateful to have a bit of coffee in his hands, catching up with elmyra, whose advice keeps him well-prepared with eri. they talk casually at first, glossing over work both in and out of the classroom, but only really settle in when the topic shifts to her. you'll be pleased, he told her, to know that she's been settling in nicely. she still has a ways to go until she has control over her quirk, but socially, she's been doing better than even he's expected. " i'm proud of her, " he says. " she's got more resilience than most adults i've met. "
he brings the coffee mug to his lips as elmyra excuses herself, watching from its rim as she disappears further into the cottage. sure, he says. he'll be here.
the box is a slightly heavy one -- packed near full to bursting with old clothes of aerith's she'd been only too happy to bring out of storage. "i can't imagine you're wanting for anything when it comes to eri, but in my experience -- you never know what you might need in an emergency big or small, and aerith and i both agreed we're happy to see these go to someone who needs them." @dawnmantle.
" ah... " dark eyes dip into the contents of the box. they're all little dresses and pleated skirts, pants and frilled tops. it's an entire wardrobe for a girl of eri's age and size, and as he peers on, it's difficult to avoid imagining eri in some of them. shōta stands, reaching out to help the box onto the table they sat at, and as he comes close he can smell the memories on them like a cologne; a cultivation of tragedy, and time, and love. calloused hands remain along the rim of the box as he turns to his host. " these are... much better than what i would have picked out for her, " he starts. " if you're truly willing to let these go, we'll use them gratefully. it's exactly the type of style that eri seems to enjoy. "
he grips the edge of the box to exert a bundle of emotions beginning to blossom in his chest, warming in his stomach, turning him raw. how so many seem to leave droplets of support for eri, like breadcrumbs she can pick up and hold close, and never hunger again. he swallows dryly, blinks a few times, steadies himself. so, it seems, he is starting to grow soft. " she'll love them, " he murmurs, looking back down at those amalgamated memories, and wondering what new ones would be etched in their fabrics. " i'm truly humbled, elmyra. thank you. "
" GOT IT. " the view from her scope drags from the hero to the group of villains laying in wait for any sign of danger. she then seeks out the door leading inside. and through the window — their target. she plucks two more pieces from her hair, molds them, and loads them into the gun. not gonna be as quiet as they intended. " take the path to the left of the chimney. fewer assailants. i'll take care of the ones on the right. on your mark. "
VIGILANCE KEEPS HIS EYES SHARP. heightened senses, buzzing with the rush of adrenaline, pull him upon his haunches, peering just beyond the dilapidation he perches behind. the path ahead is clear, though he can still hear the rustle of villains just to his right. he'd have to be swift on his feet. " ready yourself, " he says, his body stepping towards the side of the rubble, barely in cover. his body moves before his lips do, rushing the warehouse. sharply, almost barked out: " now. "
Boku no Hero Academia | Ep 99 | I’m not someone who will waste my time on something pointless.
" GOOD THING. " it's quickly concluded, as hands are washed in the sink. she deserves to play hard — to then sleep hard, undisturbed by the nightmares of her past; nightmares, though they may not haunt eri any longer, creep into his sleep. a beak-shaped maw swallowing him whole, shaking him from sleep and only the image of his counterpart can lull him back to sleep. he'll take them, he decided eventually. he'll take the nightmares from her and be her hero, even in slumber. it seemed like the only thing he could do, anymore.
" I KNOW, and i don't want you or her feel like you have to promise anything. " mirio glances towards the hand on his shoulder, then towards the teacher. he sees what she sees in him. despite the appearance that clings to his shoulders like a road-worn cloak, he sees protection; he sees a safe place to hide — to be something genuine without judgement. " i do see her progress, and i'm so proud of her. " he bites down on his lip, displaying a rare sign of anxiety. " it feels selfish to want my quirk back, especially when it's caused her so much harm in the past. "
HE KNOWS THAT ANGUISH WELL. phantoms of the past still lurking in the mind as if it were a haunted house, reopening wounds that one may have anticipated to stay closed, and it hurts just as much as the day it was first inflicted. mirio holds himself with a commendable resolve, but shōta would be a fool to not see past the façade. the boy carries himself with a sobriety only understood by the tormented; it is an aging far beyond mirio's years; an exhaustion that sleep can't possibly shake. and so the hand which stays upon him is an extension of that empathy, a knowingness from his own hauntings, his own phantoms. if this conversation offers mirio anything, let it be the understanding that he is not alone. he's never alone.
" listen to me, mirio. " a sigh escapes his lips, sharing in the student's exhaustion. his hand withdraws, shifting to nest within his pockets. " eri counts on you more than you realize. you've done nothing but provided her a sanctuary that she previously never experienced. " his voice, low and rumbling, has its edges softened as he speaks to him. he stands just beside him, facing the opposite direction, though maintaining his eye contact. " there's nothing selfish about wanting a part of you back. nothing selfish about needing the help. i just want you to know that it wasn't your quirk that saved eri, back then. it was you. "
“ I MEAN, SURE. i'll accept that. ” a piece of sashimi is placed in her mouth. a half-empty beer sits beside her plate. her third beer of the night with at least two more in her sights. why not? when things are just getting good. they've dug through surface-level catching up and gossip. now to the root of them both. “ i do the same thing. but how good is your hero and teaching work gonna be when you're exhausted? if you're struggling to keep your eyes open, that's an issue for you in itself. rest is important, eraser! "
" I FIND THE TIME. " she's going to have something to say about that, he knows; emi's too nosy to let that one go. still, between his caffeinated tea and impromptu naps throughout the day, he's doing enough to keep himself sustained. shōta reaches for his beer, slipping his fingers around its neck, the glass slick with perspiration. beads of water hit his clammy hand, coming as a faint relief; the air swells with humidity, flecking the back of his neck with a thin layer of sweat that his black hair sticks to. " and before you get too ahead of yourself, spare me the lecture, " he says, raising the bottle to his lips. " this is nothing i haven't heard from you before. "
" FIND SOMEONE ELSE. " his arms are loosely folded over his chest, shoulders pinched upwards in discreet display of agitation. long cords of black hair cascade down his face, almost completely shrouding his eyes in the position that he sits in, with his head nodding forward from fatigue. all things considered, it's a familiar sight, indeed. " and quiet down while you're at it; i'm trying to sleep. we'll grab food another time. " @thisanger, hizashi.
" TEACHING'S ONLY HALF THE BATTLE; i can't abandon either of my responsibilities for sake of rest. " the scene: a quiet sushi bar tucked among neon lights and crowds of patrons packing streets of a small market. he's a few beers deep, making it optimal to discuss the difficult things: namely, the ever-difficult nature of his health. " too many people count on heroes' intervention. when i was younger, clumsier, i've been too late before — i'm not going to risk that happening again. " @quirkcaught, emi.
Aizawa (Scruffy and Shaved)
both versions are on my Inprnt! (angieroselli)
IT'S COLD, but he's used to that now. with a frame so thin, there's little meat on bones to do any internal warming. he relies on his winter attire to keep out the wind, but even then, it creeps in; one way or another, it always creeps in. it's not just the stars that remind him of his youth, but this chill too. he remembers running — running towards a future that has somehow planted him here, among the stars, with aizawa. it's been strange since deciding to live after the end of all-might. things that would've gone unnoticed and unappreciated before are suddenly the things he clings to. this is what he clings to. this held-breath of a moment. this thrill before a grand drop. " you know me well. " better than toshinori had anticipated or expected — and yet appreciates all the same. the feeling of his knee once would've elicited his attention, but he keeps his eyes upward. " i don't think so. they don't need me in there, do i? i'm not ready to leave yet. " toshinori can almost hear the murmur of nana on his ear. he's a good one; don't lose him. " come closer ... you look cold. "
HE MOVES NEARER. despite such a weakened body, toshinori still offers himself so easily towards him. perhaps it would be wrong to take so greedily, to want so hungrily, but shōta is not without his own sacrifice; his broader body, too, offers warmth amid the frigid air, biting like milk-teeth, into their skin. at the very least, the cold is a reminder of their life; the gooseflesh that stand erect on their skin, the breath that releases, like fumes, from nostrils sucking in the thin, bitter air. his jaw is tight, muscles tensed in hopes of conserving as much heat as possible. his body offends from the spirit of winter. and nestled close to toshinori, it nearly feels as though they're the only two for miles out, as if the stars themselves put on such a show just for them. " no. just needed the break. " his hand raises, knitting his fingers through thick, black hair, pushing a few cowlicks out of the way. " get away from all of that noise. you know how they can be. " his hand drops to his lap, slowly easing towards his, and resting just close enough to brush against his cool skin. " i take it you needed the escape, too. "
