Listen Up!

Listen up!

You see a post like this? Where OP might hurt/kill themselves? You hit that button that I circled

Hit that.

Click Suicide or Self-harm Concern

Yes.

Fill in the rest of it, and hit submit. The "content you reported" will fill itself in

Tumblr will follow up and help them.

Warning: this is only for mobile. If anyone knows how to do this for desktop, please add it!

This could SAVE SOMEONE'S LIFE.

YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE NOT TO REBLOG THIS.

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF IT DOESN'T GO WITH YOUR BLOG'S THEME.

And yes, REBLOG. Liking does no shit at all. This isn't ig.

You reblog, people see it. You don't, people don't see it. This shit's that simple.

This could save someone's life. It's not a joke.

(edit: a lot of people on tiktok were confused, but shes wearing tights :) the top is just pale)

These are just gorgeous!

Pokemon Paintings made by Twarda8

Attention! I am in need of help! I’m writing a chapter for my MHA story I am wanting to finish up with, but I am having a difficult time on one particular subject.

To my knowledge, Ochako Uraraka’s parents don’t have official given names, and I’d like to try to come up with some that sound as authentic as possible. Any tips on how to come up with Japanese given names? Cause I personally don’t think writing “Ochako’s mom / dad” constantly will cut it.

Reblog the writers’ fortune cookie for luck!

Everybody Tickle Dad!

The kids notice how down-in-the-dumps Toshinori has been lately. So, one day after classes and training, the kids speed through their homework so they can spend time with him. There are jokes, teasing, quality time, family fun, and of course, tickles.

Lers! Class 1-A, Toshinori

Lees! Toshinori, Class 1-A

Length: 🍨

———————————————————————

There was something wrong with Toshinori. Physically, he was fine. But emotionally, well, he’d seemed rather down lately. His smiles had become tired and forced, he’d started isolating himself, and he spent a lot of his free time napping.

The Class had immediately noticed and asked him what was wrong, but they always got the “I’m fine,” or “I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” answers, which they weren’t happy with. They decided to give him his space for a few days, because they knew they could all be a little much sometimes and because he could be going through one of those personal problems that you just couldn’t tell anyone about. You had to fix it yourself. But, when Toshinori’s gloomy behavior continued after those few days, the Class had finally had enough. So, on Friday night, they cornered one of their other Senseis to see if he knew what was going on.

“Aizawa-Sensei, what’s wrong with him?” Izuku asked. “He won’t even talk to me! And that’s saying something!”

Izuku and the other students had crowded Aizawa as he was sitting in the common room, grading papers and working on his laptop. He removed his reading glasses and set his stack of papers aside. He looked at each one of his students, touched that they cared for his dear friend so much.

“Alright,” he said. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. “Listen. I don’t want you giving him a hard time about this. He’s depressed.”

“Depressed?” Mina asked.

“Why is he depressed?” Kaminari asked.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Because he isn’t All Might anymore, dumbass!” he said, then added, “Physically.”

Aizawa cleared his throat before an argument could break out. “Bakugou’s right. He’s been reminiscing about his glory days lately and misses being All Might. If I was retired, I’d miss it too,” he said. “So trust me when I say this kind of thing is normal. Every retiree gets into this slump once in a while, and they need help seeing things clearly.”

“Well, what can we do, Sensei?” Sato asked. “How can we help?”

“Show him that he’s needed, do things that he enjoys. Hug him, love on him, do your best to cheer him up. You’re his kids—“

“And yours and Yamada-Senseis!” Toru interrupted.

“Yes, and ours too,” Aizawa amended. “But you're his kids, and he loves you. And right now, he needs you. Zashi and I have talked to him, but there’s only so much we can do. So, what do you say? Will you be our secret weapon?”

“Yeah!” They cheered.

Aizawa smiled, a real, genuine smile. He was doing more of that these days, but his kids never got tired of it. After that conversation, the class planned out a few opportunities of how they could ask for Toshinori’s help and/or advice, but they couldn’t come up with too much. Aoyama suggested they play it by ear, and figured that plenty of opportunities would come by if they just looked for them. Everyone agreed and went to bed that night, excited to support and love their Sensei, hoping to cheer him up and show him that he truly was needed and wanted, and always would be.

“Toshinori-Sensei!” Asui said, coming into the kitchen the next morning. “There you are!”

The man turned to her, confused. “Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I want to knit some sweaters for younger siblings, but I’m a little rusty. Do you think you could help me?”

And for the first time in a while, Toshinori’s blue eyes lit up, and his real smile briefly appeared. “I’d love to,” he said.

Yamada and Aizawa were coming out of their room and caught a glimpse of the two of them talking and knitting. It was extremely endearing.

“How’d you get so good at this, Sensei?”

“Well, growing up I’d get fidgety when I was bored or I’d loaf around when I was sad. So, my aunt, who I was staying with at the time, taught me how to knit. Then I had something to do with my hands, and could feel a sense of purpose even when I was sad because I was making something useful.”

“That was nice of her,” Asui remarked. “I know how to sew, but that’s about it. I taught myself from books when I was seven.”

“Seven? That’s incredible!”

“Well, kind of. I had to take care of my younger siblings, and they liked to run around and play rough. So when it wasn’t a scraped knee or elbow, it was a ripped seam or a hole in their pants. I tried knitting later on, to make them scarves for the winter, but I could never get the hang of it, so my skills are mediocre at best.”

“Ah, makes sense. I think you’re a very good and caring sister for doing that,” Toshinori said, the little smile on his face still there. He glanced up and saw a hint of embarrassment on her normally blank face and changed the subject. “Do you have pictures? I’ll bet they’re cute.”

She paused in her knitting and started showing him her favorite pictures of her siblings in the special album she kept on her phone.

That evening, Sato approached him next as he was making dinner.

“Hey Sensei, need any help?”

Toshinori glanced up from his chopping, a little surprised, but pleased. “Sure. Can you start peeling the potatoes?”

“Now that I can do,” Sato said, sounding relieved.

“What do you mean?” Toshinori asked.

“I might be able to bake pretty well, but I can’t say the same for my cooking skills.”

“Funny, I’m a fairly decent cook, but sweets have never been my specialty. Once I tried to make brownies for a girl I had a crush on. I knocked the entire pan of batter on the floor before I could get it into the oven.”

Sato grinned. “So you’ve always been this accident prone?” he teased.

“Unfortunately, yeah,” Toshinori said, then paused. “Hey!”

Sato chuckled, and so did Toshinori after giving him a playful nudge.

“You think it’s so funny? You try being this tall and forever tripping over your own feet.”

“Nah, I’d rather stay short and stubby, thanks.”

Toshinori laughed, and Sato was glad to hear it.

Later that evening, Kaminari was getting frustrated with his controller and threw it on the floor.

“Ugh!”

Toshinori, who’d been walking by, stopped and walked over to him. He glanced at the mess on the floor, one of the controllers having been completely taken apart. He let out a low whistle. “Whoa! What happened here?” he asked.

Kaminari sighed. “I was gonna play a game, and it started acting up. I didn’t wanna use another one because this one’s my favorite. So I thought I’d try to fix it, but nothing’s worked,” he said. “I don’t know why I even bothered,” he muttered, “I’m so dumb.”

Toshinori scowled. “No. You’re not. I’m tired of you calling yourself that, and I don’t ever want to hear you call yourself that again, understand?”

Surprised by the sudden sternness, Kaminari nodded. This seemed to placate the man, as his expression and tone softened as he continued.

“There are a lot of things people don’t know how to do. And that doesn’t mean they’re dumb. That just means we have more to learn.”

“But I forget stuff all the time!”

“That’s because you’re human, and also a little disorganized. No wonder you can’t find anything in your room.”

Kaminari was about to pout, but caught the playful gleam in his Sensei’s eyes and smiled.

“I’m not messy!” he said, grinning cheekily. “I just organize differently!”

“Sure you do,” Toshinori teased. “Would you like some help?” he asked, gesturing to the broken controller.

“Please.”

And that evening, Izuku texted him, then went and found him alone in the library, reading.

“You alright son?” Toshinori asked.

The boy gave him a little smile and dashed over, quickly sitting next to him on the couch and hugging his arm.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Toshinori said with a chuckle as he put his book on the side table.

“Yeah, I just feel like I haven’t seen you all day,” Izuku said. “I love you.”

Toshinori’s eyebrows shot up and he put an arm around his shoulder. “I love you too,” he said. “Not that I mind, but why the sudden affection?”

Izuku sat up a little more to be able to look at him. “Well, I was cleaning my room and I started thinking.”

“About what?”

“About my life, and everything that’s happened.”

Toshinori nodded, urging him to continue.

“And I thought about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah! But, not really about All Might. I thought about you, as you are now. And how you became my dad. And how you’ve always been there for me, and helped me, and made me smile and laugh and...I kind of had a birds eye view perspective for a moment, and I realized how lucky I am to have you. I’m just really grateful and thankful to have you Dad, and I really, really love you. And I hope you know I love you too,” Izuku said. He was a little nervous, because bearing one’s feelings like this was always easier riding on the coattails of a conflict, through the resolution. But he was happy he was able to say it, even if it was a little rambly.

Toshinori had looked away as soon as he’d finished, and for a moment Izuku was worried. But that quickly faded when his Dad pulled him into his lap and held him close, putting his head on his shoulder, then kissing his forehead and lightly massaging his scalp. “Thank you,” he said, his voice husky with tears. “Trust me, I know you love me, and it means the world to me, I…” he paused to regain his composure. He sniffled. “I love you too, son,” he said, then held him tighter and burst into silent tears. “I...I’m so grateful to have you in my life. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so, so, so, glad and so, so, so proud to call you my son.”

Izuku cried too, both because Toshinori was crying and because he was touched by his words.

And so they sat there, holding each other, crying and talking softly until Izuku fell asleep, Toshinori following a few minutes later. He was woken up by a hand shaking his shoulder. He blinked a few times and stared up at the person, Yamada coming into focus with a little smile on his face.

“There you two are,” he whispered.

Toshinori glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised. “Wow, is it that late already?”

“Yeah. All the other little listeners are already in bed,” Yamada said.

“Alright then,” Toshinori said, starting to get up and starting to carry the boy, but Yamada gently pushed his shoulder and made him sit down again. Both men froze when the boy stirred, and sighed in relief when he didn’t wake up.

“You’re tired enough as it is,” Yamada said. “You can barely keep your eyes open, let alone carry him. Here, I’ll take him. You, go to bed.”

Too tired to argue, Toshinori conceded and handed over his precious sleeping cargo. That night, he went to bed with a sleepy smile on his face.

The kids weren’t done yet. Sunday morning, the Bakusquad surprised Toshinori, and everyone else, by making a big breakfast buffet. There were scrambled eggs, bacon, a make your own omelette station, bagels, sausage, hash browns, cereal, and Toshinori’s favorite: red, white, and blueberry pancakes. Which was basically strawberry and blueberry pancakes with a drizzle of white chocolate on top of it and some whipped cream on the side.

Aizawa and Yamada had slept in that morning, and were pleasantly surprised to find everyone seated at the table, talking and laughing. And to their delight, Toshinori sat at the head of the table, his smile shining bright as the sun.

After breakfast, Yamada and Aizawa recruited Jirou and Izuku to help them clean up, while everyone else spread out and did their own thing. Toshinori went outside to keep an eye on the kids who decided to play frisbee and other outdoor games, or lounge around and draw.

He sat at one of the picnic tables they’d put out there and watched, enjoying the sunlight and half paying attention to the news on his phone.

Todoroki went up to him. “Sensei, care for a game of chess? I’m not in the mood to run around right now,” he said.

Toshinori smiled. “Sure! It’s been a while though, so I hope you’ll to go easy on me.”

And before Todoroki knew it,

“Checkmate.”

The boy stared at the board in mild surprise. “But you said—“

“I said it’s been a while. That hasn’t impacted my ability to play. And I only said that I hoped you would go easy on me. Not that you needed to,” Toshinori said, smirking proudly.

Todoroki smirked back, amused. “That was sneaky and underhanded, Sensei. Now that you’ve told me your little scheme, let’s play for real.”

After being beaten in three games out of five, and congratulating a very pleased Todoroki, he was invited to toss the football around with Koda and Sero. He couldn’t do it for long though, so he went inside and got himself some lemonade. He found Mina sitting on the couch, playing with Aoyama’s hair as he sat in front of her on the floor, watching a cartoon.

“There,” Mina said, a sad smile on her face as she handed him a mirror.

He grinned as he inspected her work. She’d given him two small braids on the side of his head and kept them in place with pink hibiscus flower clips. “Ah! Magnifique! Merci! Thank you! I love it!” he said. When she didn’t respond he turned the mirror to get a look at her face, and frowned at her somber expression.

“Anything wrong, mon ami?”

She shrugged.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Meh...I’ll be okay. Thanks Aoyama.”

The french boy stood and then put a hand on her shoulder, gave her a sincere, kind smile, then left.

Aoyama went into the kitchen, about to go out through the door and show off his hair to anyone outside, when he came across Toshinori and Aizawa talking in the kitchen.

“Ah, Senseis! Something’s wrong with Mina. Could one of you talk to her? She won’t talk to me, and I respect that, but I’m worried about her. Maybe she’ll talk to one of you.”

Toshinori nodded once. “I’ll go,” he said. “I’ll do my best to help her. Oh, and by the way,” he aaid, pausing on his way out. “Nice hair!”

Aoyama beamed and Aizawa snorted.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Aizawa said. “Coffee’s too hot.” He wasn’t laughing at how adorable and happy he was about his well-styled hair. Nope. Not at all.

Toshinori went into the common room, and Mina, frowning, looked up at him.

“Hey Miss Hair Stylist,” he tried to joke. “Why so glum?”

She shrugged.

Toshinori thought for a moment, then brightened. “Well, would it cheer you up if you could do my hair?” he asked.

She grinned. “Really?”

“Really! I’d be honored if you’d tackle this mess of mine.”

And a few minutes later, he was in the exact same position Aoyama was in earlier. As the minutes ticked by, and whatever was on TV became pleasant background noise, Toshinori noticed that she was just brushing and playing with his hair. He didn’t mind though. Finally, she spoke.

She sighed. “I don’t know what I did, but I made someone really mad at me online, and they’ve been harassing me for the past hour,” she admitted. She stopped and handed him her phone, showing him all of the hateful comments on her social medias.

Toshinori’s glare got darker and darker as he read each comment. He got up from the floor and sat next to her on the couch. “I want you to delete every single one of those lies, and forget about them as best you can because none of them are true,” he said.

She looked away and he grabbed her hansa, catching her attention.

“You’re not worthless. You’re precious. You’re wanted, needed, and irreplaceable. Ashido, no...Mina, listen to me. Everything that person said was a lie, and wrong of them to say. As much as it hurts, please, believe me. Someone who knows you and loves you. Not some disgruntled stranger on the internet.”

He was a little surprised when she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, then kissed his hollowed cheek, making him smile and gently hug her back.

“Thank you…” she said quietly.

“You’re quite welcome, my dear. And anytime you need a reminder of how wonderful you are,” he said, pulling away. “Come find me. Alright?”

She smiled a little. “Alright.”

They sat in comfortable silence for the next few minutes, him half paying attention to the TV, while she deleted all of those comments.

“There!” she said. “They’re all gone.”

“Good. Now, permission to put a smile back on your face?” he asked, a teasing tone in his voice.

She smirked. “Granted! But you’ll have to catch me first!” she said, but had barely made it off the couch when Toshinori’s long arms caught her arm and pulled her back, making her shriek in surprise and then burst into giggles as she felt the familiar and silly fluttering of fingers on her tummy.

“Eeek! Ehehehehehehehe! No fahahahair!”

“What?” Toshinori asked, lightly dancing his fingers across her stomach and now her sides.

“Your ahahahaharms are too lohohohong!” she pretended to complain as she tried and failed to squirm out of his long reach.

He grinned. “Too long? Maybe for some things, but they’re perfect for tickling! For example, I can tickle you here,” he said, scratching at her lower ribs. “And here at the same time!” he said, tickling under her chin.

She squealed cutely and continued to giggle, her face flushed pink, noticeably darker than her skin.

And it was when Aoyama came in that Toshinori had the girl really laughing as he squeezed her knees, her face happy and bright with laughter. The french boy grinned delightedly and paused for a moment to watch, when she called out to him.

“AOYAHAHAHAHAHAHAMA! HEHEHEHEHELP!” she laughed.

“If you do, you know the tickle monster is coming after you next,” Toshinori said cooly, slowing down his tickling to glance up at the already flustered, giggling boy. He ran back out the door, Mina’s “NOOOOHOHOHOHO!” echoing in his ears as he did.

Then he got an idea. He gasped with delight at how clever it was. He ran around and grabbed most of his classmates and told them about his plan.

Toshinori was just hugging a very giggly Mina and making sure she was alright when Aoyama, along with most of his classmates, snuck in on tip toe behind him.

“Well, I should probably check on the others. They’ve been outside for a few hours now and are probably hungry. How about you?” Toshinori burst into low, rumbling chuckles as he felt his shoulder blades being tickled. “Ahahahahahahahahaha! Hehehehey!” he turned around, grinning goofily and his eyes widening when he saw the crowd of students behind him.

“Whahahahat was that for?” he asked.

Aoyama shrugged, smiling innocently. “You’ve been really sad lately, and we wanted to cheer you up!” he said.

“On a serious note,” Jirou said, stepping forward, “We wanted you to know that you’re still needed, and useful. And we love you.”

Toshinori sobered a little. “Even if All Might’s out of commission?” he asked, that small, fake smile returning.

Izuku, who was at the front of the group, said, “Yeah! You’re still our hero! Even if you aren’t All Might anymore. You’re...you’re…” he scrambled for a moment, trying to find the right word. “You’re Dad Might!” he said finally, grinning brightly, and everyone cheered at that.

Toshinori laughed as he was nearly crushed in a sudden group hug, and then laughed even more at Kaminari’s little comment of, “Everybody tickle Dad!”

Everyone ran off in different directions, so no matter where Toshinori ran, one of then kids jumped out and surprised him with tickles, all of them being mindful to avoid his left side.

After a few short tickles from several of them, he somehow ended back up in the common room, being tickled by Izuku, Jirou, Todoroki, and Bakugou.

His stomach, right side, and armpits were targeted, and despite his toughness even in his usual form, the poor man was dreadfully ticklish.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU BRAHAHAHAHAHATS!” he laughed, his heart full of affection for them.

“Hey, only Aizawa-Sensei gets to call us that!” Todoroki said, switching from his armpit to his neck, lightly tickling it and bringing out the biggest smile yet.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!”

Bakugou smirked. “Finally, it’s about time you smiled,” he teased. “None of that fake bullcrap you’ve been pulling for the past week.”

Jirou chuckled. “Your laugh is so contagious, Sehehehensei!”

Toshinori blushed at that. “HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Todoroki looked confused. “I thought he was Dad Might now?”

Izuku giggled. “Maybe, but he’s still our Sensei! And a very ticklish one too!”

Toshinori snorted at that, and fell back into giggles as they slowed down and eventually stopped. “You kihihihihids are a bunch of goofballs,” he said, slowly sitting up. There was a huge, tickle induced smile on his face and his eyes were shining. “But, thank you. I needed to laugh. And thank you for showing me that I’m still needed,” he said, accepting Kirishima’s hand and using it to help him stand. He ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately and said, “I appreciate all of you.”

“We appreciate you too, Sensei!” they echoed.

Toshinori’s smile suddenly turned mischievous. “All Might may be out of commission, but Dad Might isn’t,” he said, then in his All Might voice he declared, “AND I AM HERE! TO TICKLE YOU!”

The students shrieked and ran away giggling and laughing like the children they were, Toshinori laughing with them and chasing after them.

Yamada, who’d come in from outside and had been innocently making an iced coffee in the kitchen, made his way to the common room to see what the hubub was about. He was nearly trampled by a stampede of giggling, shrieking students and a very happy, laughing Toshinori.

Aizawa, who’d come in just as they all ran by, caught Yamada so he didn’t fall and his coffee didn’t spill. They looked at each other, then at the happy, goofy people they called their family. They couldn’t help chuckling at their silliness.

Aizawa looked at his husband and smirked. “You wanna join them, don’t you?” he asked.

Yamada grinned. “Yeah, come on! You know you do too!” he teased, putting his coffee on the kitchen table.

Aizawa rolled his eyes fondly, but smiled, then laughed as Yamada grabbed his arm and dragged him along to join the fun.