Some of my ramblings and stories end up here. 😅 This blog contains adult themes such as violence, sexual scenes, language. I write SPN, Hannibal, King Arthur, CM, Captain America/MCU, FMA, etc. my writing is tagged "my writing". My personal can be found over here: nev-telen.tumblr.com and my art blog can now be found at nevtelendoots.tumblr.com
Hello, I am Nev, late 20s Queer AF villain fucker, writer and artist and overall very not sfw chronic shitposter.
I'm a fandom ancient, I've been here since livejournal days, come yell about problematic ships at me that I'm in love with and I'll tell you tales of old
I am a mild disaster and have scattered myself across tumblr for varying fandoms.
For Anime Flailing, BNHA, FMA, JJK, YYH, etc, come love me at: @greedtheavalicious
For CM shitposting find me at: @thebostonreaper
My writing flailing is over here @nevtelenwriting
And the occassional art thing but mostly just art tutorials and references: @nevtelendoots
Nowadays I am getting more active on twitter, so find me there at nevtelenwriting
Genuinely, I think one of the most fun and crunchy things about any character is
How far they will go for things they want
What they will do to get things they want
Things they won't do, no matter how much they want what they'd get in exchange
Because these things tell you some very important things about the character, namely their limits, their price, and their absolute No's. (And it lets you create some really REALLY crunchy conflict)
I know it's been awhile but with yet another platform going up in smoke, I'm tempted to start posting drafts of different greek myth adjacent fandoms I've fallen into jdsfkljdfkl so MAYBE I'LL BE POSTING RANDOM SHIT AGAIN
I'm a million times more active on twitter now bc it's (unfortunately) a better platform for mini fics and fandom interaction nowadays, sO if you wanna come say hi to me and wish to get bombarded with anime simping https://twitter.com/nevtelenwriting
I'm a million times more active on twitter now bc it's (unfortunately) a better platform for mini fics and fandom interaction nowadays, sO if you wanna come say hi to me and wish to get bombarded with anime simping https://twitter.com/nevtelenwriting
Word Count: 6,900~, 5K that is just solid PWP filth
I don’t know why I’m allowed to name things.
This be filthy yo: one-night stand, risky sex/no condom, mild choking, multi-orgasms/overstimulation, come-swallowing. I have nothing more to say for myself. I’m (not) sorry.
i've been doing a lot of thinking about me as a fic writer and about fanfic writing in general, and in particular about what we get out of writing fic. i take a lot of comfort in posts that remind me that fic writers write fic for fun, or for themselves, and that the popularity of a fic doesn't dictate its overall quality or worth. however, there's also always been a part of me that's been bothered by those posts, and for a long time, i thought it was because i didn't really believe them.
now, though, i think it's the fact that those posts are true, but that they skip an entire facet of fic writing--and, in fact, any sort of artistic pursuit in general. and that's the fact that art is made to be shared.
we do make art for ourselves. art is a way to express parts of ourselves in ways we otherwise can't, to have fun, to connect more deeply to the media we're creating fic for. but it's also a way to connect with other people, a way to share those parts of ourselves with others, a fundamental human experience that is no less communal today than it was hundreds of years ago. it's both a personal pursuit and one that's meant to be shared, and artists get fulfilment from both aspects. they're both important. they both make art art.
music is meant to be performed, even if only for a few close friends. paintings are meant to be seen and appreciated by others, not hidden away. writing is meant to be read, otherwise why commit it to paper? fic in particular is an art form that is meant to be shared, in part because fandom is a communal experience.
this isn't to say that all art--and in this case, all fic--needs to have widespread outside appreciation to have worth. nor is this to say that you have to publish your fics in order for them to have value. all art has inherent worth regardless of whether or not it's shared, and you are a writer whether or not you share that writing with others. but to say that we only make fic for ourselves or that the opinion of others doesn't matter is taking away an entire part of artistry.
Ahhhh @hitoshi-toshi asked for some stuff with this fic, it's mostly just character study and random HC in fic form for my favorite grumpy Tim Burton son Shinsou, SO here's the beginning, poor bby
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Hitoshi didn’t remember much from his childhood. His stint with a mother and father was brief, and the memories surrounding it were blurry and distorted, like rain blotting through a still-wet painting.
He knows his father Satoshi worked as a teacher, and Hitoshi once imagined how fun it would be to spend the day with his dad in primary, teaching him new things like he did at home.
His father always knew when something was wrong, he remembers; when Hitoshi was sad, or angry, or even when he was hungry. His father said his quirk was Open Mind, and let him know when his big man needed something. He was told later, of course, that his father was able to sense the immediate, foremost thoughts and emotions of people close by. Helpful as a teacher in middle school, he supposed.
He remembers his mother was not around so much. It seemed like it was always him and his dad against the world. He remembers being happy.
On the few nights his mom would be home, once a month if he was lucky, he remembers her pulling him into his arms, asking about his day and so proud of how smart he was, already able to see who was mean or kind in his kindergarten class.
He remembers she used to sing. Her lullabies always rocked him to sleep. She told him once her quirk was made special to help him sleep.
Hitoshi was worried when his quirk didn’t manifest in kindergarten. His mom and dad both assured him that some quirks are quieter than most, like Satoshi’s. Maybe Hitoshi even inherited his Open Mind, and in the years to come he’s be able to hear the thoughts and feelings like he could, but for now it made him a wonderful judge of character.
Hitoshi liked that idea. He liked watching his classmates, figuring out what made them happy or angry. He also liked the idea of helping people to sleep with his singing.
So much for that.
In first grade his mom stopped coming. Instead he watched the news as a cruel villainess known as Nightshade was arrested. She was had a quirk she called Siren Song, an ability put anyone in a trance who were caught in her singing.
They removed her mask and plastered her face on the news, showing off her wild violet eyes, unruly hair and a wicked grin. They did them the courtesy of not sharing her legal name. His dad moved them several cities away anyway.
Then it was just him and his dad.
Then it wasn’t even them.
Turns out, having a father who could passively read thoughts and a mother with the ability to enthrall with the sound of her voice was a match made in fucking hell.
Just as I had shown with the 3 love posts for this series, there are a ton of ways that trauma can be shown through character behaviors or even speech patterns. Different people react differently when it comes to trauma, and you should also keep in mind what kind of trauma the character had gone through and what they were like before it occurred before deciding how they would be like now.
In the following post, I will be giving some different responses to trauma that your characters could display.
I. The “IDGAF Anymore” Trauma Response
Perhaps one of the most used responses to trauma that you see in characters in media is the character that blocks off their emotional responses to anything thereafter. They may fall in love with someone but they’ll never admit it because they don’t wish to be hurt. They may find a new family to love them but they shut themselves off from expressing said love because they are afraid of being hurt again.
Essentially what this response boils down to is a fear of being hurt again. Most people that shut down emotionally have been abandoned or abused or betrayed by someone they once trusted in some way; sometimes the thing that makes them feel betrayed isn’t even the other person’s fault such as an older sibling moving out of the house and away from their family once they get older or the death of a loved one.
II. The “Anger Issues” Response
I have known 2 people personally really well that have had this response to trauma. This response is where a person is so emotionally shut down (much like the last response spoken about) that they won’t allow themselves to show any emotion other than anger.
I once had a therapist tell me “usually when a person is angry, there is another emotion behind the anger, whether it is fear or depression or otherwise.” So the first question you should ask yourself when making a character with the rage response is… why are they angry? What emotion is being masked by the explosion of their anger? What are they trying to hide from? What traumatic experience is making them feel this way and how do they really feel about said experience? Depending on your answers and the kind of character you’re writing about, the angry outbursts can be different.
Some people will yell, some will get violent, some will punch holes in walls and doors and furniture… some will scream into a pillow… some will storm away in the middle of a conversation or hang up the phone if someone says just the wrong thing. Really think about what your character is like, how they respond to tense situations, before you lean into their anger response because some anger responses do not fit certain personality types.
III. The “Sensitive One” Response
Some people, when dealing with tense situations, become intensely emotional. They may cry easily when someone just looks at them cross-eyed. They might go quiet when they’re anxious. They might get really defensive at the smallest things. The Sensitive One can be shown in many, many ways, as there are lots of different types of sensitivity, so really consider your character and what they’ve been through before you decide which type of sensitive person they are.
IV. The “Unmasked Hero” Response
Not all heroes wear capes… that’s the saying, right? These people are the activists. These are the people that will talk to anyone for hours and hours just to talk them down. These are the people you always hear saying “I never want people to feel the way I felt when I went through this.” These are the people that become therapists to help others going through their issues. The Unmasked Heroes live their lives to make it so that no one has to experience the pain that they felt, if they can help it.
V. The “Rebel” Response
I do what I want. That’s the theme song of the Rebel. They lash out, usually acting like the victim no matter what happens (sometimes they really are, but sometimes they aren’t). Trauma can completely rewire a person’s brain, but with the Rebel, they often felt repressed before or like they were unable to fully be themselves and when something traumatic happens, something snaps in them to trigger that “I don’t give a flying fuck” response in their brain and suddenly they’re doing anything and everything they ever wanted to do (and sometimes even didn’t want to do) just to spite the rest of the world and if you don’t like it, you can kiss their ass. This can also be shown through a runaway after something traumatic happens.
This is another very common, often used trauma response.
VI. The “Mental Breakdown” Response
As a mentally ill woman myself, I want to emphasize: not all who go through trauma get mental illnesses and not all with mental illness went through a mental break. That being said, it is very common for an extremely traumatic experience (or life, in some cases) to give someone a mental illness. Or rather, to bring it out of them. There are illnesses like Bipolar, PTSD and more that come to the surface after an extreme mental break, PTSD being the more famous for this very situation.
What is important here is that there is no one situation that will cause a mental break. Depending on the person, it can be something that would be nothing to one person but would completely break another down while a third person might be going through 5 things all at once and seem to be handling it well. There are so many different illnesses out there, and a lot of them are very similar, so what I think is most important is that you do your research before you write an illness you have not personally seen or experienced. If you know someone with an illness you want to write about, ask them if you can run some idea by them and make sure it isn’t stigmatizing the illness, as mental illness gets stigmatized left and right in media.
VII. The “Class Clown” Response
Another common thing that is shown in media - and I’ve noticed is very common in real life - is the depressed clown. There are so many people that listen to society telling them it isn’t okay to not be okay, so they laugh and clown around to make others laugh and just like a lot of people need others’ compliments to feel validated, these people often need laughter to feel validated.
Some people that become the Clown type will deflect their sadness by making dumb jokes. Maybe, if you write about your character texting or on social media, you can show them in a downward spiral and just get on their social media page to post a dumb pun to negate the negativity. Or make a joke at their own expense, which is also common. A lot of people will make others feel bad for not being able to laugh at themselves, and these people are [often] great at doing exactly that, even if they end up in tears later on when they’re by themselves.
VIII. The “Angsty Artist” Response
As I’m sure a lot of you are aware, a lot of artists have a lot of emotions they are processing and a lot of them will use their art (whether it be visual or writing or otherwise) in order to process it.
You may have a teenager writing angsty fanfiction or poetry. You may have a young adult opening their first blog where they write about their life beginning adulthood. You may have a person that is drawing dark, gory artwork. Whatever it may be, the art can either directly reflect the way they feel, such as the dark artwork, or they may do the opposite and write about their personal idea of a utopia and use art to escape. Either way, the art is a means to process and understand themselves better and/or escape from reality for however long they do it.
The only good and bad thing about using this response is that a lot of people that use art end up getting lost in it. They end up becoming obsessed and never cease to work on the art or think about the art and may become consumed by their own processing creativity.
IX. The “Addiction” Response
Addiction can come in so many forms. It can be the typical drugs, cigarettes, alcohol… or it can be addiction to getting lost in a hobby (see #8: The “Angsty Artist”)… or it can be becoming a workaholic. Honestly, anything can become an addiction if you let it consume you, so keep that in mind. It could even be something such as them becoming a hoarder because they are afraid to let their past go, so they won’t let anything go.
There are so many other responses to trauma. There are billions of people in the world, and tons of them have trauma in their lives. To say that it all boils down to these responses would be silly, but these are some common responses to trauma that would be a great starting point if you’re trying to figure out how to have a character of yours going through trauma.
Spill!!! I wanna hear about literally every one of your bnha ones that you feel comfy talking about and jjk's "When the budding mass murderer doesn't die" and the long fic for CM!
ALRIGHT OH GOD there’s sooo so many lemme know if you want excerpts from this menu lmao also several of these are NSFW so we’re gonna slide on past those 😅
BNHA:
Don’t fucking take me to church: This was born of loving Aizawa, a shitpost idea while I was chopping onions, and a love to whump on my favorite. Aizawa is hit with a confessional quirk where he is compelled to spill some unspoken truth to someone. This ranges drastically from “I’m the one that's been stealing your butterscotch pudding from the teachers’ lounge” to “I knew you were being abused and I am so sorry I couldn’t do anything sooner”
Wings like Fire, Heart Like Ice Endhawks and DabiHawks story that’s just horrid angst, basically hopping on the trans!Hawks with secret fire lovechild train; Hawks suddenly gets distant from Enji and he just assumes it’s because of his past, but three years later Enji finds out about Fushichou, Hawk’s radiant little girl with feathers in red and gold like fire across her scalp, trailing down the back of her neck presumably to her spine where they meet the fire red and white flecked wings. It’s clear she has Hawks’s quirk, but with the coloring, her electric blue eyes, it’s so obvious who the other father is Enji just has to balk at her.
In Which One Loud Mouth Tries to Parent an Angrier Loud Mouth ahhhh incredibly self-indulgent idea of Aizawa asking deaf!Present Mic to mentor deaf!Bakugo and they’re both little bastards about the whole ordeal
Wait, You're Cheating with Who? JDFKLSJFKLD dumb shit EraserMic fic in which Class 1-A knows Present Mic is married, but they see Aizawa and Present Mic kissing and immediately assume Present Mic is cheating on his husband, they all give him the cold shoulder, so Aizawa talks to his class about the school discriminatory code and flat out says “If you have a problem with Present Mic and I being married you can get out of my class.” And the collective consciousness of class 1a is a Unit of Dumbass and the conclusion they pull is Aizawa is married and ALSO cheating on his husband with Present Mic.
Words Like Poison MY BIG BOI LONG FIC this is all Shinsou, my HC turn fic for his sad sad childhood and trying to be a hero and just being emotionally shut down and constantly told he’s a villain waiting to happen, featuring abusive grandparents, walk-out father and a villain mom in prison :D
Dadzawa is suddenly dad and Struggling Poor Aizawa trying to be a dad to Eri who has horrific PTSD and for the first time in a long time he feels so, so lost
CM
Long Fic: It’s called Like Coals actually I forgot until i opened the document eyyyy HOTCHREID basically just like, a dissection of their relation from season 3 to post season 15 because i love my boys, i love the angst and the drama, i have 35K of this thing and no end in sight
JJK
When the budding mass murderer doesn't die okay this is a tongue-in-cheek dark humor where my brother and I side-eyed Junpei and said, ah, okay so this is the creepily groomed school sho*ter that developed cursed powers instead of you know, a bomb. aNYWAY I’m really sad about Junpei my poor abused son deserved SO much FUCKING better, so this is just a shameless indulgent emotional slow-burn fic featuring Yuuji and Junpei and them being friends and eventual boyfriends while attending Jujutsu tech because denial is a sweet, sweet dessert I will gorge myself on
I have been tagged and I am so sorry 👀 tagged by the wonderful @hitoshi-toshi ahhhhhhhh
Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it and/or tell you something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
OH JEEZ YOU CANNOT ask the ADHD writer to tag the same number as their WIPs no no no no
I love talking about my WIPs it gives me motivation to write them out :D Because I have like 10+ WIPs for 6 different fandoms atm, let's just focus on the last few weeks dfjslkfjksldff
BNHA
Do Not Fucking Take Me to Church
Wings like Fire, Heart Like Ice
In Which One Loud Mouth Tries to Parent an Angrier Loud Mouth
Why Me? hhhhhthisone noncon
Wait, You're Cheating with Who?
Words Like Poison
no clever title Bakugo does not handle post-LOV kidnapping well at all
no clever title just Rebound time
no clever title Omg they were roommates
no clever title Dadzawa is suddenly dad and Struggling
If homegrown daddy issues aren't available store bought is fine
CM
Foyet Hotch Blind Date
Time to go Sexily UnderCover
That Longfic I'll Never Finish but there's some solid gems in there somewhere
JJK
Ow my uterus
Buy Me Out
Of course you're wondering how I got here, let's recap
When the budding mass murderer doesn't die
I'm so unactive here I'm so sorry I'm on twitter more lately bUT @transhotchner @suntosirius @unicorninatophat @buckle-up-buttercups I DON'T REMEMBER URLs GUYS IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME DO THIS IF YOU WANT i honestly can't remember who's who I'm so sorry my memory is a melted cheesecake
Enji still has nightmares. Keigo makes it a little easier.
-
It was still the same.
Each night he dreamt of them, Natsuo, Fuyumi, Shouto, Rei. Now Touya is there, smiling and kind, no scars turning his gentle face savage, no fire burning through his eyes. Each night he doesn’t call out to them, only stands at some window he doesn’t know he cannot will his feet to move. He doesn’t know if he means to go forward or to run away. He doesn’t know which is the right answer.
So he watches and he aches, seeing their smiling faces, the ease in their shoulders, as they drift further, further, further away.
Another face joins them tonight. Golden hair and amber eyes, laughing with them all, and for the first time he tries to find his voice. He tries to shout but all that comes is a garbled, aborted sound like a gasp. He tries to move this time but he can’t. He just needs him to look up, please, just see him, just don’t forget—
Enji woke up from his dream with a jolt. He never considered them as nightmares; those were filled with fear and impossible dreads. These dreams were not that. Except perhaps tonight; he had felt a little bit of fear, given the racing in his heart.
Normally when he was awoken by these dreams in the middle of the night, the weight of it too much to bear for long, he didn’t end up falling back to sleep easy. Sometimes he would make himself a drink to numb his senses and try for more rest. Other times, if it was early morning, he could make tea, go over reports, spend an extra hour in his—refurbished—gym. It was a routine he’d had for well over a year now.
That wasn’t tonight. He didn’t wake because of the dream. He woke because something hit him in the chest.
The moment he recognized why he’d been startled awake he reflexively bolted upright, fist aflame and ready to fight.
A grumble next to him alerted him to the reason for the random hit.
Golden hair ruffled on the pillow beside him. Red wings curled like a blanket over his exposed back, never quite as big as they were before. Across his waist was Keigo’s arm, probably flailed out in his sleep because the bird made it his mission to take up more space than Enji.
“You okay big guy?” Keigo murmured. Though his voice was thick with sleep one eye peeked open, liquid amber dancing in the light. Enji snuffed out the flame, cleared his throat.
“It’s nothing. Sorry. Go back to sleep.”
Hawks grumbled a discontented, offended sound, reached up a groggy hand to slap it into Enji’s chest. He managed to find his shoulder through a series of fumbling gropes, then tugged hard. Enji chuckled, settled back down next to Keigo. Immediately he pressed himself against him, one of his wings draping over their bodies as he clung to Enji’s chest like a koala.
“You’re okay. Go to sleep baby,” Keigo slurred, already near unconsciousness. Something warm swelled in his chest, unnamable and overwhelming. It stole his breath away so similarly to his dream, but for an entirely different reason. Enji stroked his hair, resisting the urge to light more fire just so he could see the outline of Keigo’s face again. Instead he focused on the rise and fall of Keigo’s chest, the warmth of his arm draped around him, the soft rustle and tickle of his feathers brushing over his bared arm.
For the first time that he could remember, Enji fell back to sleep.
Bold of you to assume I know how to write, half this is exposition half of it is writing, half of it is lack of math skills and stream of consciousness
Ahoy
Shindeku where their first kiss happens when they’re sharing space studying together, after weeks of awkward build up, Mina and Denki arranged a date for them they didn't know was a date, Tenya told Izuku not to sacrifice potential love for his dreams, Aoyama straight up asked Shinsou when he planned to announce his desires for their radiant shrub, whatever the fuck THAT meant. Basically, Izuku is kinda of an idiot, but Hitoshi is not, but he has no idea how to make the first move? So he waits.
Even if he's 90% sure Deku likes him, Shinsou also can't help but think he can do better, you know? So he doesn't push for it, and really, he's just happy he has Izuku in his life and he got over his fear of letting people in, and let Class 2-A strong arm him into friendship.
Anyway they’re studying together one day sharing space, when Izuku, even more blunt than a brick to the face that's just gotten worse with age, asks Hitoshi if he likes anyone.
**
Hitoshi coughs in surprise, mumbles, "yeah, I suppose, but he’s a bit out of my league."
Izuku looks elated for a second, and then suddenly deflates, and Hitoshi can only surmise the order of events that happened there. Yes, Hitoshi was very gay. The out of the league thing probably meant Izuku dismissed himself. That's answered quickly enough when Izuku sighs defeatedly, "Yeah, I have the same problem."
Shinsou arches a brow, asks a little teasingly, "Out of your league or another guy?"
Izuku, ever honest, says, "Er, both."
Shinsou is only partially certain it's him now, because he's definitely not in Izuku's league, not really, he's not a top contender like the Hero with a Thousand Quirks. So he scoffs, "Impossible, you’re at the top. Everyone else is leagues under you."
Izuku’s sputters in surprise, "What? Are not!"
He's so cute, blushing like he's actually taken aback by the obvious that Shinsou laughs and teases him further, "Are too. Bet you have whole fanclubs in middle schools across the country eager to get into UA just to have a shot at dating you."
Izuku sputters again, red as a lobster across those freckled cheeks and mutters far too quietly, "Stop being mean. I’m awkward and small and I still sometimes break my bones when I punch things."
Hitoshi pauses at that. He hates when Izuku gets like this. It's less than first year, he's doing better realizing his worth but sometimes those things weigh him down. This must be one of the hold-outs. So Hitoshi sighs, scratches his head and offers, "As a vaguely wise, pine-headed optimist once told me, it’s because you’re good. You deserve the world for all you give to it. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t want to date you."
Izuku swallows, twiddling his hands and says, "You really mean that?"
Hitoshi pauses again, but this time because he doesn’t remember getting this up in Izuku’s space.
He's close enough to see hazel flecks in his eyes, and Izuku he feels warm where he radiates heat. He wonders if his Quirk makes him so warm.
Hitoshi swallows and straightens up, back to the wall, returns his staring to his books. “I do. So, you know. You should tell him.”
Izuku nods from the corner of his eye. Hitoshi’s heart pounds when Izuku shifts up to his knees next to him. “Hitoshi?”
Hitoshi turns to look at him, back to those big, bright eyes “Yeah?”
He’s answered by Izuku leaning in abruptly to kiss him…on the cheek.
It’s so painfully cute Hitoshi can’t help the big, goofy grin that breaks across his mouth, puts down his book & guffaws, “That’s it? All that build up and I get kissed like grandma?”
Izuku turns beet red, huffing out, “I didn’t want to—the angle’s weird! And I wanna ask first!”
Shinsou can’t help it, he’s laughing hard now, head thrown back while Izuku whines next to him.
Hitoshi gasps between laughs, “I thought I was good.”
“You’re so mean!”
“Mean and good are not opposites, you’re just a bastard hero.”
Hitoshi gasps dramatically, hand over his heart, “Midoriya! Did you just swear?”
Izuku rolls his eyes so hard he thinks he’s gonna hurt himself, “You made me, you asshole.”
“A bastard and an asshole now? What ever shall I do?”
Hitoshi turned to face Izuku, cross legged now, still beaming and Izuku answers with another grin, soft and a little unsure. Despite the teasing Izuku doesn’t look hurt, and that’s all Hitoshi really cares about.
“You could try to kiss me back.” Izuku mutters, very nearly pouting the words out. Despite looking more sheepish, Izuku is also bolder; he’s more everything, his Quirk augmenting more than just strength, Hitoshi believes. It makes him smile, laugh, cry, and care so much more. It makes Hitoshi feel warm. And maybe a little mean.
“Kiss you back? Like grandma?”
Izuku groans, “You’re the worst.”
“I know,” Hitoshi murmurs, then leans in, cups Izuku’s jaw in his hands. That’s about as far as he gets before he freezes up because—what if Izuku realizes this is a mistake? Being friends is different than—than boyfriends, than lovers. It requires so much more trust, more vulnerability, more faith, more everything, and Hitoshi couldn’t blame anyone for their unease of letting him be so close. What if Izuku realizes that, too? What if this ruins the first real friendship Hitoshi has ever had?
Shit, he’s terrified.
Hitoshi feels his hands shake, already falling away from the warm, soft, strong jaw of the most beautiful person he’s ever known. “Maybe this isn’t…”
Izuku’s brow furrows, “Isn’t what?”
Hitoshi’s heart breaks when Izuku shutters in and adds, “You don’t want this, do you?”
“No!” Hitoshi says before he can stop himself, all self-preservation out the window. Izuku is too good, too honest and open to lie to. “No I mean yes, it’s…I do, but what if you…”
His tongue feels thick when Hitoshi finishes, “What if this is a bad idea?”
As shy and nervous as Izuku is, he’s so, so much braver. Izuku relaxes, a strong determination settling on his features, the same he wears before their sparring matches. He’s half convinced he’s about to be decked, given the context clues, but Izuku leans back up on his knees and reaches out to cup Hitoshi’s jaw in his hands. Izuku, so deceptively strong, holds him steady, thumbs pressed firm to his cheeks like an anchor and he wants to melt, he wants to cry, he wants to surge up and kiss those sweet full lips and memorize their shape for a lifetime.
Izuku looks dead at him then, whispers with all the seriousness of their matches, “I’m great at surviving bad ideas.”
Hitoshi is fucking laughing during his first kiss, and he really probably should have known better with Izuku Midoriya involved.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Soulmate!AU Endhawks; you see the world in shades of grey except the color of your soulmate’s eyes, and the world goes to color at the first skin-to-skin touch. Enji doesn't believe in soulmates. Hawks wants to believe. (Some side dabihawks for a half second)
One-sided Shinzawa, Training, awkward boners, Shinsou's a disaster gay, Aizawa is a bastard but a good teacher and handles it...well?
Teen for unfortunate boners in unfortunate situations
-
Eraserhead was everything to Shinsou. He was his role-model, sure, but so much more. Eraserhead was a life-saving breath in the sea of doubt Shinsou had been drowning in.
Since this quirk manifested Shinsou had heard constantly he was destined for evil, for cruelty, for greed. He was told he could never be a hero; told the only thing strong about him was his power to manipulate and use people; told he’d never have a relationship that was real.
When the words became too much, when Shinsou was losing hope, he discovered Eraser.
Surely, he thought, not every hero was physically strong. Not every hero could control elements or had super strength, not every hero was enhanced that way. There had to be ones whose quirks did nothing for them, but used solely against others. Others like Shinsou.
He found Eraserhead that way, after hours of searching. Just articles, some first-hand accounts, an official report of Eraser as a registered pro.
There were some blurry pictures of him, no videos, nothing in action. Only the knowledge that he could cancel out quirks. His only enhancement was a power that took other people’s power away and he was a hero. He was all Shinsou wanted to be.
Eraserhead was a lifeline in an unfair fight to become a hero, an icon of all Shinsou could become and more. And to a young, lonely, hormonal idiot teen, well. Let’s just say Eraser was sort of part of Shinsou’s gay awakening.
Whatever, it's not his fault Eraser was young and hot and wore pants so tight even those blurry photos couldn’t obscure that ass. He didn’t ask him to make sleep deprived and scruffy look godly. So what if Shinsou used some odd fantasies about being saved by Eraser to fuel his puberty?
It’s not like he thought he’d ever meet the guy. Let alone be this close to him. Or be offered a chance to learn, to train, to become all he ever wanted under the eyes of his hero. To know him as Aizawa-sensei.
Let alone being pinned under the guy on a fucking weekly basis.
Aizawa drove his knee in his back and Shinsou had to cross his eyes and take deep breaths. Aizawa was warm and strong—so fucking strong—and bearing his weight unforgivingly into his lower spine and Shinsou had about seven different fantasies that started out this way stored in a traitorous part of his brain.
Shinsou cleared his throat and muttered as evenly as possible through the raging, well, hormones, strangling his vocal cords, “Yield.”
Aizawa sighed shortly. “You’re still sloppy. It’s like you want to get pinned.”
It took everything in him not to laugh.
“Hey.” Aizawa—shit—Aizawa grabbed his hair and shook him once, lightly, but oh god, “Are you listening?”
Whatever blood wasn't flooding Shinsou’s cheeks from the position rushed immediately, violently southward.
“Oh shit,” Shinsou’s voice shook and he covered it up with a cough. “Yes, yeah, I heard you. Give me a second.
Like hell he could control himself in a second. He absolutely could not get up now, not without his evident problem ending all his training under Eraserhead.
“Take a second when you go home, I don’t have all day.” Aizawa mercilessly, ignorantly dead-panned.
Shinsou swallowed hard, got up on his knees facing away from Aizawa and muttered, “Can I use the restroom?”
Aizawa was weirdly quiet for a second, and then asked, “Are you hurt?”
“No! No, just. I need the fucking bathroom,” Shinsou rushed out, winced at cursing at his teacher. God, he was in trouble.
But Aizawa didn’t say anything to that. He was weirdly quiet before, somewhat impatiently, he said, “Sure.”
Shinsou shuffled up without facing him & bolted.
When he returned—thankfully just needing cold water and a few unpleasant thoughts to calm down—Aizawa’s arms were crossed, staring at him intensely so Shinsou prepared for the lecture.
“Am I correct in assuming you had a hormonal reaction to being pinned?”
That was…not what he expected. So much so Shinsou just stared at him with comically large eyes, fighting the sudden urge to swallow his own tongue.
Aizawa sighed, “I guess that’s a yes.”
“I—” Shinsou’s words strangled out of him, “What? You—how?”
“Hizashi mentioned something about rainbow shoelaces and you reflexively covered your crotch when you left.”
Shinsou could be swallowed by the floor now, thanks. He swallowed thickly, all blood draining from his face as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, sensei, it won’t happen again.”
Aizawa grimaced, “Don’t lie. You’re into men and are apparently affected by roughhousing, you chose a bad profession to get into.”
Shinsou’s heart just about stopped. This was it; the utter miracle he’d been granted was finally over, Aizawa was disgusted with him, throwing him aside—
“Do you know how many attractive, fit men get into hero work? Many. Many many many and you could get killed if you lose focus because your hormones clouded your reasoning.”
Aizawa spoke as levelly as he did when giving all his critiques and Shinsou could do nothing but stare at him. His shame & fears were being trampled in a lecture about hero work. Shinsou didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or slap himself to wake up.
“Don’t even get me started on how bad it could be if it happened fighting a villain, you cannot let your libido get the better of you."
Shinsou blinked back to focus from whatever alternate reality he’d fallen into, numbly nodded his head with a “Y-, yes sir.”
Aizawa sighed shortly, clearly unconvinced, “Who do you find most attractive?”
Shinsou blinked with wide, wide eyes. “I…what?”
“I said who,” Aizawa repeated patiently, “I’m going to plaster his face on a droid and you’re not training otherwise until you don’t need any more bathroom breaks. And I swear if you say me I’ll strangle you with my scarf.”
Shinsou was definitely dreaming, but hey, Aizawa hadn’t disowned him.
“Kaminari,” Shinsou said abruptly, and just as abruptly curled his nose, “No, wait, that’s—why did I say—”
“I don’t…” Aizawa interrupted, eyes squeezing shut, “I really don’t need to know. Just chose someone, I do not need reasons.”
Shinsou nodded, still a little too stunned.
“Thank you sir,” Shinsou said after awhile, because it felt the most appropriate. He rubbed at his cheek to try to will away the heat he felt building there.
He could cope with the next—hopefully just a week—of horrifying embarrassment if it meant he didn’t lose Eraserhead.
“Yeah, sure kid.”
Shinsou suppressed a small shiver and wondered if he really meant the whole strangling threat.
