#or his quirk

[5weekdays]

they gotta give me more enrichment at work look what i just doodled

^ joke that would have killed in 2011

🏳️‍⚧️ this post has come out as trans 🏳️‍⚧️

#i was so proud of walter’s typing quirk that i didn’t remember to make his last name six letter #this sucks. anyway #breaking bad #homestuck #EDIT: I MISSPELLED CAPSAICIN DON'T LOOK AT ME #SECOND EDIT: a transphobe reblogged this so i just want to reiterate that all my posts are transgender #so if you enjoy my posts thanks for being an ally 🫡

[buggachat]

does anyone else form their headcanons of marinette and adrien largely on the basis of "they have to be opposite each other"? like, creation and destruction, yin and yang, etc. like Marinette being late all the time and sleeping through her alarms? so she's probably a deep sleeper? So that means, by the laws of my lovesquare headcanons according to my brain, Adrien has to be a light sleeper. Marinette is a chaotic creative person and I can imagine her just having so much STUFF all around and living in organized chaos. so therefore Adrien likes his spaces neat and clear. (also something something creation and clutter vs destruction and emptiness) you know??? ???? ? adrien and marinette headcanons just cant be independent of each other in my brain. they are always intrinsically linked

#not to say they have to have opposite Opinions or Values or anything. just. personality traits and quirks #the more meaningless the headcanon the mroe they have to be opposite in me brain #adrien is a morning person so marinette is not. adrien picks at his food when stressed so marinette stress eats. #adrien drinks his coffee sweet in my brain so therefore marinette drinks hers unsweetened. this is the law #marinette tosses and turns at night so adrien sleeps stiff as a board #YOU KNOW!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!? not necessarily having all the same headcanons as me but the gist of being opposites

[beybuniki]

the version where shoto let go of bakugo’s hand (it’s the sweat)

#and the sweat is not from his quirk he’s juAt nervous todobaku is so real #bnha

[p1nkmic]

Don't know how to caption this,,

Let's just say that those fics on ao3 about biting changed something in me

#spiderman across the verse #across the spider verse #spiderverse #spiderdads #atsv fanart #atsv #miguel o'hara #peter b parker #spiderman 2099 #my art #miguel and his vampiric tendencies #peter supports his bf quirks

[snazzydwarf]

(This was written in July oh dear-)

You know how in a lot of fics a de-aged Danny winds up in Gotham either via Clockwork putting him there, or Danny goes through a portal (either through his own volition or not) and ends up being taken in by one of the bats?

Okay that, but what if he was never picked up and ends up falling through the cracks and becoming one of the many homeless children wandering Gotham's streets, but unlike all the other street kids who know when to keep their head down Danny just doesn't have those fear receptors... like at all- It's almost scary with how the kid manages to just not give a single flying fuck about what is going on.

So after a while of wandering the streets and getting acquainted with the Gotham's inhabitants everyone slowly get's used to the kid wandering around, dropping their guard and greeting him with smiles when he toddles around the corner, looking for his next meal or piece of scrap clothing.

Perhaps it's this show of trust they begin to notice the strangeness that hangs around him like a cloud. The shifting coloured eyes, the coldness in his skin that never seems to go away no matter how much clothing the kid gets bundled in.

The fact that no one knows where he goes once they take their eyes on him? Spooky to say the least, but they're Gothamites! One shady, possibly meta, kid ain't gonna change anything.

So he becomes a staple in everyone's lives, and eventually learned his name is Danny. He talks about having an older sister called Jazz, two best friends and a puppy he named Cujo. (who let their kids watch Cujo???) They also learned he had an innate fear of The Bats, whenever one swept into the streets during their nightly patrol he would just... disappear. He became unfindable and wouldn't appear until the next day.

At first they thought it was him finding a safe place to sleep while the night rolled around and the Rouges came out to play, but that assumption was quickly squashed when he was caught wailing on one of the Jokers henchmen. The white makeup couldn't even cover up the black and blue bruises that covered his face.

It was comical, if not a bit frightening to see this small child practically a baby sitting upon a knocked out, grown ass man. His little stubby legs dangling off the side of his body, too small to even reach the ground.

Of course nothing stays under the Bats radar for long so he end up eventually getting spotted. However none of the Bats where expecting such resistance from the civilians when they offered to take the kid.

Now whenever the little tyke is bumbling around and a Bat (or any other vigilante associated with them) is in the area, it's all hands on deck to distract Danny and get him somewhere else.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom x dc #I just wanted Gothams inhabitants to adopt Danny first #before any Bats could get to him #so now that they want him they have to try and get through multiple neighbourhoods of people #its THEIR kid god dammit! #our bb boi #whos a little off putting #but it's apart of his style #just ignore the slight body horror and uncannyness that he can give off #just a quirk of his we swear #:> #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #snazzyprompts

[rooshoom]

A few Spot speaking quirks I’ve noticed and noted:

Talks to himself

The entire ATM scene

“Well this is new. Hypothesis, I’m going to put my head in that hole.”

“I need more spots!”

“This is what I love about science!”

Interrupts himself

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a really long time so, hey where’d this goose come from? Is this your goose?”

“Wow”

“Wow, how are you?”

“Oh wow is this curry powder?”

“Wow, as you were gentleman.”

“Pardon me locals, wow four on there, wow that’s very dangerous.” (Also fits into the ‘interrupts himself category)

“No, no, no!”

“No no no no no, I did not mean it like that!”

“No, no, no, go ahead, take the call!”

Makes his voice small to take away from how large he physically is

“I had a little accident! Now look at me!”

“Hellooo~”

Sorry

“Hi sorry to bug you. I know you’re busy, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

Has to get the last word

“Your suit’s too tight in the back by the way!”

“Foot in your face, weren’t expecting that were you? Neither was I! I’m in the zone!”

Random quotes that I think sum up his personality

“It’s right under, where my, where my nose would’ve been!”

“Please just let me rob you!”

“Unfortunately for both of us this is skin.”

“I think this is going great!”

“Nothing nothing! Everything is cool man! It’s all good!”

#jonathan ohnn #the spot #across the spiderverse #the spot x reader #i wrote another one of his physical quirks

[chloesimaginationthings]

YOUR DESIGN FOR TEENAGE MICHAEL IS SO KFJSKD CUTE :3 !!

I have to draw him again, when he’s less in destress

#ask reply #I’m glad yall like him!!! #I have more sketches of him when figuring out his design #I’ll probably share those on my Patreon #he teeny tiny #itty bitty #long hair for teen Michael has always just made sense to me #fits the time period and the vibes #for my design of him #I like to think Michael started cutting his own hair during his teens #into adulthood and that’s why his hair is so jagged and spikey #this is just for my design btw not Michael as a whole but I think it’s a fun quirk

[takami-takami]

Like Animals.

kinktober day 4: sex pollen.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut

warnings— afab!reader. dubcon (sex pollen/heats, but both have been pining like idiots). breeding if you squint.

keigo's beloved crush sidekick gets hit with the unluckiest quirk possible. he quickly discovers his rut suppressants ain't shit.

Through all the horrors and adverse life events Keigo has endured in this line of work— brutal near-assassinations, negotiations with international crime syndicates, purchasing sugar-free canned coffee with Splenda substitute by mistake before his morning shift— he has always been able to find a silver lining in the darkest of moments. 

Which makes it infinitely more concerning that for the first time in his life, he nearly whines through his teeth the words, "why me?" 

A palm drags once down his face, thumb and index finger pulling down his darkened eye bags. His hand collects the beads of sweat and stops to rest over his mouth. 

He supposes this must be his penance for taking a risk and trusting faulty intel. 

Keigo's informant told him the villain he and his darling sidekick were meeting would have a limited-ranged fire quirk, so the diligent hero stuffed ointment and cold packs in his pockets before leaving just in case. 

If he had known the villain was a plant heteromorph and possessed a heat-inducing mist quirk instead, and that the person he was hopelessly in love with had a bit of a crush on would be caught in the direct line of fire? 

He would have brought a paper bag to hyperventilate into instead. And some prayer beads. The god to which the prayer is delivered doesn't necessarily matter, he thinks. He'd simply pick one and drop to his knees in a bid for mercy.

"I'm taking you to a medic," Keigo puts his foot down for the fourth time this evening. 

"Fuck no," you groan from the couch, shifting to squeeze your thighs together. It offers not even a modicum of relief from the incessant throb. "Do you want my cause of death to be humiliation? Is that your plan, genius? 'S bad enough as it is that you're here." 

The subtext is unspoken, but clear to him through your adorable pout: I only trust you to see me like this.

It's unlucky that the man you've had the most innapropriate-for-work crush on for the better part of two years happened to be the one beside you that day. And it's just your sorry luck, you lament, that Keigo would also be the one to catch you, to fly you home cradled in his painfully capable arms, to refuse to leave your side and insist on making his favorite chicken soup for you in a desperate flail of support. 

He'd respect your decision and leave, should you ask him to. You know that. And yet the humbling truth gnaws at your pride: doing so wouldn't do much to save your image at this point. He’s already seen you like this, you grumble. The proverbial cat has long since escaped the bag, waltzing its way over to rub its purring body against Keigo’s leg to your abject horror.

If you close your eyes, you can attempt to trick your brain into thinking this affliction is a flu of some kind. 

Yes, this is just some common cold. You're wearing nothing but your work partner's shirt (your clothes were contaminated by the quirk's dust, Keigo explained, speaking in that strict work mode voice that makes you picture your mouth stuffed and drooling somewhere beneath his desk and between his spread legs). You pull the damned fabric down over your core as you try your hardest to not writhe in fits of pleasure underneath the blankets, rubbing your thighs together for any friction against your swollen clit.

All symptoms of an affliction of the flu, of course. 

You don't need to reach down and touch to know the slick would string those thighs together, should you attempt to pull them apart. 

Keigo knows that, too. But he doesn't say anything about it. 

You would be mortified if you were aware of the truth. 

That he knows everything.

Keigo knows exactly how you ache; like you're constantly on the precipice of an orgasm, perpetually ablaze from the heavy heat scorching your body from its surface to the boiling core. 

You try to suppress your glee as he spoon feeds you the broth, reminding yourself that this is just what good friends do for each other.

Friends coo praises at each other when they swallow, friends tilt each other's chins up with one finger and mutter things like that’s a good dove and you can take another as they watch their throat bob in tandem. 

Friends shiver from their wingtips down their spine when they pull the spoon back. They let their gaze linger for just a second on those lips that open wide, aching to touch.

Ever the gentleman, Keigo stays lowered to his haunches and places one hand over your forehead to check for a fever, redirecting his focus toward taking inventory of your vitals. He doesn't wince when he hears your moan at the contact, even though the pitiful sound pings at his weak points. His avian instincts remind him he needs to protect you, please you, take care of you; to make it go away, to fix that feeling he knows better than anyone is aching like a bruise between your thighs. 

He doesn't allow his eyes to wander astray or trail their way downwards, especially when you're in such a vulnerable state; but his professional assessment is that if he could only wet his appetite, the flat of his tongue alone could— 

He shakes his head and blows a puff to cool the soup, raising another spoonful to your lips. 

"Here. Another. You need to keep your energy up," he reminds you, voice stern. It's nearly clinical and achieves the opposite of its desired effect.

Your heart rate picks up to thump at a steady, thrumming beat at the innocuous gesture of domesticity. 

How have you never noticed how capable of a mate Keigo would be…? He’s all musculature and sincerity, sharp ridges at his knuckles and soft curves at the small of his waist where he only trusts you to touch.

You huff an involuntary moan. 

He picks another god to praise that the couch you're laying on obscures his lower half. 

Today, Keigo discovers his suppressants are only designed to reduce the chance of a rut being triggered. It brings the possibility of it starting in the first place to a comfortable near-zero, allowing him to carry out the spring and fall seasons as if he were entirely quirkless.

But if that rut passes through the blockers' biochemistry in, say, the event Keigo's luck rears its ugly head, for example… It does fuck all to reduce the actual symptoms. 

More importantly than his own anguish, however, is this: his mate work partner got hurt because of him— hurt being a stretch, he'd know if he weren't overthinking so much, given the blissed out panting just two feet away from him; but you’re probably suffering and it's all his fault. It’s all because of an unlucky, once in a lifetime slip up from Keigo Takami himself, and he can't detangle himself from the guilt.

If drowning in the unexpected whirlpool that is his first rut in half a decade is his penance for the crime, then Keigo will hang his head and take it.

The huff he lets out is your last straw.

"I'm going to my room," you state, moving to leave like you left the stove on and are trying to avoid an upcoming house fire.

When his hand darts out to stop you, the touch against your shoulder sends shockwaves down your stomach.

He's touching you. He's taking such good care of you, feeding you, providing for you in his nest and now he's touching you?

It sends your hormones into overdrive. 

You'd do well to conceal it, if his heightened instincts couldn't smell your desperation. 

"I'm afraid it ain't that easy, dove," he warns, eye contact averted. "I'd avoid doing that, if I were you." 

Keigo schools his expression, but not before you catch a flash of something hungry. 

There's no chance in hell he's letting you out of his sight. Not like this. You're confined to the couch while he keeps an eye on you. Attempting to fix it yourself will only make the feeling unfathomably worse, something he tries to communicate to you with a look that only ends up making him look like a kicked puppy.

You squint right back when you process the implication of his words, eyes raking down his form in suspicion. 

"How do you know all this, anyway," you ask.

Keigo goes silent, hand concealing his mouth. 

Ah, it hits you. 

Bird things.

Your head falls back against one of the numerous pillows your partner propped up behind you.

"The couch is soft," you murmur, situating yourself against the cushions and throw blankets he so carefully arranged. You trail your fingertips along a silk pillow. Keigo slams his eyes shut.

"Please don't say it like that." 

"Why not?" Your lids droop, heat overtaking your better judgement. Tentatively, you play along the bounds. You allow your hands to run along the soft divots of the blanket covering your body, squeezing your chest and pinching the peaks. "It's like a little nest, isn't it?" 

His hand drags down his face before pinching his nose bridge, suppressing a whine. "Baby, please—" 

"You don't wanna join me?"

"You don't know what you're talking about. It's just the heat," Keigo tells himself more than you. "For the love of God, dove, stop talking—"

"But it hurts, Kei'." It’s a low blow, judging by the protective coo that escapes his lips. 

Fed up, he leans forward and swings his right leg over your hip, crawling atop you as if his body has a mind of its own, utterly bogged by desire and yanked like puppet strings.

With him kneeling tall above you, the bodysuit of his hero costume hides absolutely nothing. The musculature is quite impressive, actually. Proof of his viability as a mate— all dominant and masculine and gorgeous.

And at this angle, you can see the most painful erection straining against his pants. 

"I need you, Kei'. I need— mmph!" 

A palm silences you; slapped down, hot, imposing, and heavy like a weight against your mouth. 

The authority of the action makes your cunt clench; and Keigo would die before he lets that feeling go to waste, so his hips drop down to grind once against it. 

Your eyes go wide, doughy and stunned, darting down in haste, following the trail of his thick bicep up toward the disciplinary scowl on his face. 

His nostrils flare with the heaving in his chest, eyes screwed shut with his last slivers of patience holding its grip on his psyche.

"One more word," he says, pulling his hand away. "One more word and I'm ripping this blanket off and fucking you raw." 

After a moment of silence, you speak.

"Please." 

Keigo is wordless when he unbuckles his belt and lets it— and his inhibitions— drop with a satisfying clink.

The reality of what you've gotten yourself into comes crashing down as it hits you how utterly fucked you are. The scaffolding of years of sexual tension comes crumbling down like bricks to rubble, a city of restraint reduced to pure, animalistic desire. 

Years of Keigo's eyes darting away when you nonchalantly change into your uniform in front of him, even though he never seemed bothered by any of his other peers doing the same; years of you both curling in on yourselves at the furthest edges of the bed you had to share, cramped close in those under-the-radar motels on stealth missions; years of the words "idiot, can I kiss you," held back by your lips as you watch him moan when he sinks his teeth into his comfort restaurant's chicken teriyaki every stupid Friday night, sitting cross-legged and at home on the carpet of your apartment floor. 

Not a single word is exchanged as he pulls his cock free from its confines, nearly too thick for his fingers to meet when they wrap around it. He tosses the blanket to the side with haste, dragging your shirt (his shirt) up to your collar, exposing your chest when he lines his cock with your entrance. 

"Please, Kei'," you sniffle. "Hurts." 

"Oh, I know, baby... I know." His lips are pursed when he shushes you, tracing your cheek with his palm. "I'll make it go away."

When your lips meet, it's like static electricity; and it's entirely remorseless.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groans against your mouth, dragging his length along your sticky thighs before plopping the thick of it atop your soaked cunt. 

"So wet for me," he reveres, dragging the plump tip through your mess to get it slick enough to rub against your clit. 

Your rutting hips buck with impatience in an attempt to glide his length against your swollen pussy, but that only serves to fuel his desire; and those desperate little whines only feed into his insatiable need to fuck, to breed you until you're silent. 

Until you shut the fuck up. 

Those pathetic little sounds are music to his ears, a siren's song that used to play only in his most shameful fantasies; the ones that kept his fist tight around his cock the moment he returned home after missions, the sight of you panting and spitting blood after battle with a smile on your face still fresh in his memory. 

Keigo wants to hear you moan. 

But his rut needs to fuck you wordless with satisfaction. 

"Oh, fuck," he hitches, shifting his hips back and forth to the tune of the audible shlicks below. Unable to stay upright any longer, his chest falls flush into yours in a rut-afflicted haze, rutting against you like animals. 

When he slips his cock inside, it's with a kiss to muffle his voice.

And he wastes no time setting a punishing pace, aided nicely by the slickness that coats the sides of his cock. The legs of the couch surely must be scraping indents into the floorboards, judging by the creaks that mingle with the sounds of his belt buckle at every thrust. You'd notice if either of you were lucid enough to care. 

It's a brief consideration of a possibility of an afterthought, like a sheepish voice behind a roaring crowd. 

Pulling out, that is. 

Yeah, if he were a stronger man, he could probably will his hips to stall. There's a chance someone far stronger than him would hiss when he does it. His cock would weep in denial of that sweet, velvet entanglement, dripping out in the cold when he fists himself to completion mere inches away from what might as well be the center of his goddamn universe.

But when it comes to you, when it comes to his rut, Keigo is not a strong man.

He allows his cock to throb in the vice of your cunt, instead.

"God, baby," he moans into your neck, wings flapping once, twice with each thrust, shedding a few feathers before straightening out and grazing the ceiling behind his back. "Baby. Oh, baby. You're so tight. You're so— fuck!"

He's babbling, but so are you. Legs hooked across the small of his back, you bump your hips as best you can to aid in his efforts; and with your last shreds of lucidity, you decide for the both of you how things will end. 

With watery lashes, you open your eyes enough to blink away some tears and clear your vision just enough. Your gaze crawls up his legs that are still clothed to the thighs, peeking over the curvature of his ass and up his shuddering spine— all to mark onto your scarlet red prize.

When you entangle your fingers into the downy feathers at the base of his wings, it shoots straight to his cock and he spills.

With eyes wide open and a strangled choke at the back of his throat, Keigo's hips stutter when he empties himself. With every throb comes another rope from the tip, sticky and excessive from the rut, mixing with your wetness as you crash over the edge soon after.

When the ringing in your ears ceases and you finally come to, it's to the sight of your now probably-more-than-a-work-partner pulling out and staring between your legs as if under a trance, eyes glimmering.

"Kei', you okay?"

"Uh huh," he answers absentmindedly, utterly transfixed on the mess he made. 

It's strange, he thinks. Whatever urges his rut transcribed into cravings, every instinct that tugged at the avian etched in his DNA and called him to fill you pales in comparison to the satisfaction of having indulged himself at last.

His eyes flick back to meet yours.

"Does this mean I can kiss you at work now?" 

You snort. So that's where his mind goes in the end.

"It means a whole lot more than that," you say, rolling you both over so he lands square on his back.

#sorry i made jesus canon in this fic. I had to have him say it. Okay bye! #i know his quirk doesnt work like that its not an animal quirk but shhhhhh im having fun #🖋 writing #🌶 spice #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #mha thirst #mha x reader #bnha thirst #smut #x reader

[mymhameme]

Spinner finds a billboard of Endeavor and they vandalize it.

I never gotta draw the result which is sad. It was gonna be a full on comic but I began making it a video instead but, you know, busted laptop...

#i want spinner to be good at spray painting #he uses his quirk to reach good spots to tag #spinner #shuichi iguchi #iguchi shuichi #dabi #touya #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #toya #toya todoroki #todoroki toya #bnha #mha #my art

[kwillow]

As an eligible young noble of no small fame, Ambroys had a number of arranged courtships and suitresses in his youth, but any nascent marriages always fell through.

It's not that he didn't try; he certainly knew how to court a lady (perhaps too well, according to many fathers and husbands), and when he lacked knowledge on the affairs of womens' hearts, he sought counsel from a young woman who was a dear friend of his (perhaps too much counsel, according to his own father). Nonetheless, all he garnered for his efforts was separation after separation.

Ah, well. Maybe it was for the best.

#been working on this for a while... was just struck by the fact that I don't have much showing Ambroys' character in his “normal” “everyday” #so I wanted to do something “short” and “quick” to try to highlight some of his... quirks #and to contrast the loverman persona I think he's garnered #like yeah he's good at romance but also he's so fucking bad at it #just like he's good and bad at everything to do with interacting with people really #no matter how well you mimic dance steps it doesn't count for much when you don't know what the music is #or something like that... #also wanted to draw Lou (the goat) his girl best friend (with benefits) #who is actually quite important to him and his history but who I haven't drawn actually speaking or having a face yet #comics #my draws #amaranthine #ambroys #anthro #fantasy #unicorn #etc

[canisalbus]

is machete an albino dog? if so.. does he have poor vision like some albino animals do?

Yes, actually! His vision isn't quite as bad as it could potentially be considering his condition, but he's definitely at least nearsighted enough that he'd benefit from wearing glasses. He has trouble seeing distant objects clearly and reading in particular gets challenging if the text is small enough and/or farther than, say, an arm's length away. He tends to hold items very close to his face when he's inspecting them, especially if he's not actively paying attention to how he looks at that moment.

On top of that his eyes are highly sensitive to bright lights. Direct midday sun gives him the worst headaches very swiftly. If he has any say in it, he prefers to go out on overcast days, early mornings and evenings.

He probably has a pair of custom spectacles ready for those occasions when he absolutely can't manage without them, but he's reluctant to keep them on his person consistently (let alone be seen with them). His body keeps finding new ways to let him down and to him, surrendering to wearing glasses would be like admitting another defeat. So he squints and fumbles and does his best to hide the fact he can't see that well. He has a lot of health anxieties and he's worried about the possibility of his vision weakening further and potentially preventing him from doing his job, after all most of it is centered around reading and writing. It's the one thing he enjoys, is very good at, and that makes him feel useful and needed.

#when you have a vast private library but your eyes aren't cooperating #too bad sunglasses as an invention hadn't reached Europe yet #they would complete his summer goth look so neatly #answered #anonymous #Machete #now that we're talking about senses I might add that his hearing is excellent #he's easily startled by loud and sudden noises #he's a picky eater #he's got low pain tolerance but he tries to be brave about it most of the time #and there's some tactile sensory processing quirks

[zillychu]

my toxic trait is I see the :) emote as a calm, relaxed smile. whereas 99% of the population sees it as not only a death threat, but a Promise

#to be fair sometimes it's both #it's completely context dependent for me #'that sounds nice :)' is sincere #'i will harvest your bones :)' is also sincere but a different kind of sincere #if you ever see me use it just remember my brother is gen X and I absorbed some of his ICQ era quirks #mixed with millennial vernacular it makes for an. interesting dialect

[beybuniki]

AU where Deku stays quirkless and he enrolls in UA's support department, he and bakugo befriend each other because they take the same train to school & Deku approaches him because they're both batfam fans :) they bond over common interest which also inspires them to work togetherrrrrr

#the canon event of bakugo bullying deku does not happen & i am usually not a fan of that its so crucial to them but this is a fun nerd au #they team up as either vigilantes or stay connected because bakugo interns under heroes that deku is also doing an apprenticeship under ig #deku is still connected to all might idk maybe thats his biological father for real this time or like he can be their bruce idk #anyway i think they'd be so fun as a duo i'd love to see deku navigatebattles and crimes without a quirk #and they have nerd discourse in their free time ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww #bnha #midoriya izuku #bakugo katsuki #deku #mei is deku's best friend in this universe :) #she covers for them when needed they rlly should be vigilantes sorry

[ifearloveisviolence]

#aizawa shouta #bnha fanart #bnha #eraserhead #mha fanart #Something something #His hair looks like its underwater #When his quirk is active

[saturnsorbits]

Sero Hanta, early-twenties, sat in a small room with his pants around his ankles and a small pot in his hand. There’s porn magazines all over the place, something he’s never quite cared for, but he still manages to deposit his sample with the nurse within a break-neck 10 minutes. Blame his youthful exuberance and the fact he hasn’t touched himself for almost two weeks leading up to his appointment, he guesses.

And you, fifteen years later, with your son. A lanky boy who’s too tall for his age, with a mop of black hair and eyes of such a richly, dark brown they’re often mistaken for black.

#Accidental dad Sero is my favourite #You scrape everything you can together to send him to UA; #bc he’s determined to become a hero just like Cellophane. #And yes; you have noticed that your sons quirk is a little similar to his favourite heroes; #but you figure there must be thousands of people with similar quirks. #Something; something - Sero guest lectures at UA and takes your son under his wing - #figuring he’s like a distant cousin or something. #Doesn’t think to ask tho. #Until one day; a heart to heart later… You son laughs; ‘Never needed a dad anyway - me and mum have always done alright.’ #Sero braces himself for talk of abuse; abandonment and dead-beat dads #So imagine his surprise when he suddenly realises… #Shit. #Maybe he’s the dead beat here.

[clawz-loopz]

reject weak midoriya. embrace the fact he lifted and cleaned a whole beach that had HEAVY METAL OBJECTS AND APPLIANCES + all might. embrace the fact he could pick up bakugou easily. embrace he is in fact a beefcake hidden by a scrawny frame. the anime does not do him fucking justice and at this point? FUCK THE ANIME. EMBRACE THE MANGA.

#claw.talk #IM TIRED OF YOU GUYS DIPICTING HIM WEAK AS FUCK W/O HIS QUIRK. HE COULD BEAT EVERY GUY IN UA IN WEIGHT LIFTING #HE DID NOT TRAIN HIS ASS OFF FOR YOU TO DO THIS TO HIM #you guys might forget but i will never #my hero academia #mha #izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #dekubaku #dkbk #bakudeku #bkdk