Send me a prompt and I’ll write a 4-5 sentence drabble about it., @puffins-incorporated
Once the distress signal was sent, all there was left to do was to sit and wait - or rather, lie and wait.
Eraserhead stayed still while the other hero struggled to get over her coughing fit provoked by the dust that filled the air when the support beam gave way. Only dust and darkness painting the debris grey, and silence, as, one eternity later, Lady Lazarus finally stopped coughing.
He reached out, and pulled her against his chest. Today, they could pretend it didn't mean anything.
Laizawa Coffee Shop AU but it’s basically just two owners of small business on each side of the coffee shop, reluctantly teaming up to "deal with” the douche running the coffee shop between their shops.
Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I will write a 5 sentence fic about it.
“What were you thinking?”
Aizawa hissed in discomfort and bit his lip when Lady Lazarus started cleaning the bruises on his palms, where his own capture weapon bit through his skin.
“Awfully bold of you to assume I was thinking,” he murmured, earning a chuckle from the masked hero.
“That’s my line,” she huffed. The mock indignation, however, was soon forgotten when Shouta draped his arms around her, pulled her into a hug and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I will write a 5 sentence fic about it.
Lady Lazarus put the kettle on as soon as Shouta entered the dorm, the man still trying to brush snow out of his hair and costume.
"What were you doing outside so late? Nobody should be out in this weather and you weren't scheduled for a patrol tonight, were you?"
The erasure hero touched the wedding ring hanging from a chain under his shirt and buried his face deeper into the folds of his capture weapon, just relieved he even spotted it, half-buried in the snow as it was.
❛ I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world. ❜ GIVE US THE LAIZAWA
LadyLazarus looked away and turned the brightness of her phone screen down before checking the time. Four in the morning. She just finished the paperwork regarding theincident resolved earlier that night and every joint in her body ached.
Shestopped in an all-night café and got an americano before heading to the dormsat a leisurely pace. The sky was grey, the buildings were grey, the pavementwas grey, the faces she kept passing by were grey, her breath in the freezingair was grey. The January was grey and bleak, like her mood.
“Isn’tit past your bedtime, love?”
Shestopped dead in her tracks and glanced over her shoulder. There was Eraserhead,leaning against the wall, hands tucked into his pockets.
“You’rethe one to talk.”
“Areyou going to the dorms?” he asked as he walked up to her.
LadyL nodded. “So are you, I suppose.”
Hesmiled. “Yes. Do you have the access card? I lost mine and I’d appreciate it if you could let me in. Mic isn’t replying to texts.”
Shetilted her head to the side and offered him her gloved hand. “Sure, darling. Butyou’ll owe me.”
Theirfingers intertwined. Shouta lightly squeezed her fingers when she rested herhead on his shoulder as they walked. She led him through the quiet streetsbehind school premises and stopped in the shadowy spot where trees shieldedthem from prying eyes.
“Aren’tyou going to kiss me?” Lady L asked lightly as she placed her other hand onAizawa’s elbow.
Eraserheadturned towards her and allowed her to tangle her fingers in his capture weapon. “Well,you are doing me a solid one,” he repliedwith a chuckle. “Just put that mask away for a second.”
Hershoulders sagged slightly, earning her a concerned glance. “You know I onlytake it off for people I like.”
Hiseyes widened slightly, and he didn’t get a chance to respond when she yanked athis scarf and his face connected with her knee. There was an audible crack. Before he could pull himselftogether, she pushed him on the damp ground and sat on his back. She held him bythe hair with one hand, using the other to get a pair handcuffs from her beltas he struggled.
“Well,since you’re using your Quirk, Imight as well return the favour,” the hero mumbled to herself, allowing thelingering aches from her joints pour into the impostor’s wrists and knees. Sharp, white-hot pain.
Helet out a strangled cry. Aizawa’s features on his voice started melting,until the body under her turned into writhing grey mass, shaped vaguely like ahuman.
LadyL scrunched her nose when the villain opened his mouth which blended into therest of his skin, so it looked like an open wound.
“Whatgave me away?”
“Youassumed I was stupid,” she hissed. “I could recognise him by touch alone, bysmell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struckthe earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world. And you have theaudacity to offer me this third-rateacting?”
Shesnapped the handcuffs around his wrist, concentrating the pain in the villain’sbody in a way that would render him immobile for a while. Her heart was beatingfast, and too loud in that early morning silence. The only louder noise were the villain’s strangled cries.
Thepolice arrived not even three minutes after she pressed the emergency button onher phone. They agreed to send the necessary paperwork to the agency rather thanto have her go back to the station with them.
LadyLazarus came to the dorms buried in thought. Earlier, it was the adrenaline talkingbut she kept returning to the incident, trying to pinpoint where exactly the villainwent wrong. First, Eraserhead wasn’t scheduled for a patrol that night. Second,he’d never just take her hand. Third, he wouldn’t forget his access card likethat. Fourth, he’d never call her ‘love’. Fifth, Present Mic never ignored texts. Sixth, she’d have to try much harder tocatch the real Aizawa by surprise. Seventh, she knew what she couldn’t have.
Eight…
Adeep sigh escaped her lips.
Forsuch an easy fight, Lady Lazarus sure didn’t feel like celebrating.
Good morning, Happy Aizawa day, we need a Laizawa smooch to celebrate properly~
Technically speaking, it was his birthday. Technically speaking, that would make it a day when it was socially acceptable to use his free time as he saw fit. Technically speaking, he could be sleeping, his face buried in a pillow. Instead, he was dragged to the Secret Felines for a birthday party.
Technically speaking, it was his birthday party, but that wasn't the point at the moment.
Luci just finished lighting candles on the dark chocolate cake in front of him and they nudged Aizawa with their elbow. "Time to make a wish!"
He reached up to rearrange his capture weapon around his shoulders and to buy himself a few more seconds. "I-"
"NO!" Hizashi screamed, which earned him a stern look from the pub owner. "Sorry! ... Shouta, you mustn't say it aloud or it won't come true."
That was fine with Aizawa - expecting the world to grant him favours just because of the date was the height of irrationality, and even if it wasn't, he wouldn't know what to wish for. He looked around the table, at the excited faces of his friends and, despite himself, warmth settled in his chest. All in all, he had everything he nee-
His eyes stopped at Lady Lazarus, standing across the table.
Maybe he had one wish.
The party was in full swing when he slipped out to get some fresh air. The quiet, chilly night seemed somehow more welcoming than it usually did. He didn't know for how long he had been there when Lady L joined him, a smile on her face.
"I was getting worried you left already," she remarked, leaning against the wall beside Shouta.
"At this point I doubt anyone would notice. But I just needed a moment."
A soft chuckle. "Can't blame you." She reached into the inner pocket of her cardigan and handed him a rectangular box clumsily wrapped in black paper with white paw prints. "Good job. On being born. I mean... birthday. Good birthday. Happy birthday."
He hesitated before he accepted the gift. "You didn't need to."
"Yes, because I only ever do necessary things." Even though she still had her mask on, Aizawa would swear she was rolling her eyes.
"Fair enough." A pause. "Thank you."
Lady L tangled her fingers in his capture weapon and tugged at it, pulling him down slightly, just enough for her to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
"Happy birthday," she mumbled against his skin, then pulled away and disappeared in Secret Felines again.
He stayed frozen on the spot, still clutching the package. That would be the first time he made a wish and it came true.
an actual laizawa smooch on the lips this time, pretty please! 😍
Aizawa leaned against the door-frame and crossed his arms over the chest, standing in Lady Lazarus' way to her room.
"Some people are using that door," she sighed. "I'm trying to use that door. Could you...?"
He uncrossed his arms to point at her cheek, hiding his expression in the folds of his capture weapon. "Is that blood?"
A shrug. "How should I know?" Lady L removed her gloves, reached up, wiped at the red stain on her face and licked her finer. "It's spaghetti sauce. Damn, nobody told me - and I thought I had friends."
"What would you do if it were blood?" Shouta asked, reaching out to wipe the rest of the stain away.
"Extra iron, I guess."
"That's gross."
"You're the one to talk."
She leaned into his touch and placed her hand over his. It always shocked him how fragile it felt without the protective glove, but he liked it. He liked the little scar between her thumb and her index finger. He liked the jasmine perfume that clung to her hair. He liked how she smiled as if she was onto a joke nobody else would get. He liked how calm she was in crisis. He liked how considerate she was. He'd like to kiss her.
Spaghetti sauce or not.
Lady L lightly tapped the hand that was still cupping her cheek. "People will talk if someone sees us like that."
He licked his lips as his eyes darted to her smiling mouth. He'd really like to kiss her. "You seem to operate under the misconception that I care about that."
"Can't have you ruining my reputation, Eraserhead."
"You're the one walking around with spaghetti sauce on her face."
"You're the one who can't tell the difference between spaghetti sauce and blood."
"Do you like pointless discussions?"
"As long as I'm winning."
Shouta rolled his eyes and buried his face deeper in his capture weapon so she wouldn't see the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Lady L would have none of that - she reached out to pull down the fabric.
"Seems I'm not the only one enjoying dumb arguments," Lady Lazarus pointed out. "And stop pouting," she added when Aizawa most certainly didn't pout, thank you very much.
He didn't even realise how close they were standing. When did that happen?
His free hand captured the one she had tangled in his scarf and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, watching her, waiting for any sign of discomfort on her side. Lady L tilted her head to the side, her free hand resting gently against his chest. Shouta took that as an invitation to lean down and brush his lips against hers, so lightly the touch was half-real, half-imagined.
"That all right?" he asked, his voice raspy.
Instead of an answer he got a tug on his shirt as she pulled him down into another kiss.
Eraserhead never thought himselfto be the sort of person to wax poetic on the nature, beauty or…anything, really. Poetry, in general, wasn’t his thing. If someoneforced him to read a poem, he’d be able to read it and think tohimself ‘yes, that’s a poem’. Once, after a particularly livelystaff party, he found one that moved him beyond what he could expressin words, but then he woke up in the arms of a hangover only torealise he almost shed tears over a label half-hanging off a shampoobottle.
Theteachers’ lounge wasn’t any more poetic with its tan walls, cheap furniture and a singleoverworked coffee machine. And yet, every day without a fail, LadyLazarus managed to convince the machine to make coffee that tastedlike angel tears (the actual secret was that she occasionally gave ita good scrub, something that never occurred to 98% of the staff).With the fragrance of fresh coffee, the room suddenly seemed almostnice while she just sat there with a stack of essays that neededcorrecting (some more than others), drank her coffee and ignored thebusyness of a typical Monday morning.
Had Shouta been a more poeticman, he’d think something pleasant about the way sunlight scatteredover her mask like it would on the surface of a lake, the way herhair offset the inviting paleness of her neck, or the unhurried grace ofher movements as she reached for her cup, only to forget to actuallytake a sip as something in the essay captured her attention.
Asmile tugged at the corners of her lips and she glanced up. Shoutafound his face reflected and distorted in the mask, all the lightgone.
“Ican’t seem to get anything done,” she sighed, and tapped thestack of papers in front of her for emphasis. “And you would notbelieve whose fault it is.”
“Mine?”he asked quietly. Shouta wouldn’t apologise for staring, especiallyas he wasn’t even sorry. Besides, her tone was teasing, lacking anyvenom.
“Verymuch so, yes. You clutter my mind.”
Thatwas… a more straightforward answer than he expected. Withoutthinking, he buried his face deeper in the folds of his captureweapon, as if to chase away the heat rushingto his cheeks.
“Your thoughts aren’t myfault.”
Hersmile softened. “I wasn’t complaining.”
Silencesettled between them, and although Shouta never pretended to have anear for that sort of thing, he knew it was full of poetry.
