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“eww, stop it the camera is rolling!” hitoshi loudly complained with a face of abject disgust, throwing a hand over his eyes. “there are children present!”
the camera was, in fact, rolling from where hitoshi was setting it up in the living room. december has arrived and it has become somewhat of a family tradition to have their christmas photoshoot. however, while the teen was slaving away to set up the camera, his dads were off nibbling on each other’s faces in the kitchen as if they were the teenagers.
“where do you think you came from,” his dad drawled lazily, entirely unbothered, more concerned with pestering kisses out of his husband. he didn’t even bother stepping out of the voice hero’s personal space. a rare sight of their black cat dad reciprocating, even demanding, their golden retriever dad’s affection.
“not from whatever it is you’re doing that’s for sure!” the lavender haired boy cried exasperatedly, gesturing wildly. he looks insane, shouta mused quietly, proud that he did that, preening that he was upholding his duties as a dad. hizashi looked equally amused with a dopey little lovesick smile on his face.
“i’ll have you know that foreplay is an integral part of the baby making pro-“
hitoshi didn’t get the chance to react before his brother entered the room and look to instantly regret to have his hearing intact.
“ewewewewew what the heck did i just walk in on?!” izuku screeched in horror, hands covering his ears as if that would protect his already tainted innocence.
“pops is trying to convince me that they’re reenacting how they made me,” hitoshi said, shuddering as though even the thought of it send dread seeping into his bones.
eri chose that exact moment to enter the room. she took one look at her parents, glancing over to her brothers’ suffering and shrugged, taking a seat at the kitchen counter, wholly unbothered. instead, she asked “are we finally confirming the lore that hitoshi is not adopted to be true? is he a made by you and dad original? i promise it won’t offend me and izu, papa. i know i’m your favourite regardless,” she said with a lazy toothy grin that was a faithful mimicry of her dad’s.
her words had their dads pausing. hizashi blinked dumbly and everyone could see the moment the lightbulb switched on in his head.
“oh, wait. you’re all adopted,” he said with a sheepish laugh, as though this was new information. “i forgot.”
“are you being deadass right now-“
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teenager drama might be hizashi’s favourite form of entertainment. he hit jackpot when he became a teacher and he won again when his three kids grew into the dramatic angsty little shits they were now. it was wonderful.
today, his daily entertainment came in the form of a melodramatic hitoshi only just got home from school, not bothering to change out of his uniform before all but collapsing onto the living room couch in a pathetic heap, his head cushioned by his dad’s lap.
“pops, am i ugly?” hizashi is very proud of himself for not laughing, running his hand through purple locks. fluffy.
“honey, you inherited your dad’s face and i married the man, alright? i think you can trust me when i say you’re very pretty,” he did his best not to coo at the overgrown baby, knowing his babying would not be appreciated. hitoshi snorted in response.
“i very literally inherited nothing from either of you but thanks.”
hizashi blinked, pausing his petting for a second before resuming if only to appease the whines of his wounded eldest son. “i keep forgetting that you’re adopted and it baffles me every time i remember you’re not shouta’s biological kid.”
“touche.”
truly, everyone could see the resemblance that it was stranger that they were not biologically related if anything. those designer eye bags are nothing to write hole about.
“you don’t even got his genes and yet you’re still cursed with dad’s ugly mug,” izuku chirped cheekily, as he entered the living room with eri on his tail, both having changed out of their school uniform and into an oversized present mic hoodie stolen from shouta and a prototype dekiru hoodie respectively.
“shut up, izu-nii. you’re just jealous you didn’t inherit the pro hero eraserhead’s genes,” eri snarked, making a show of tossing her hair back in a flaunting manner. her rare support (in comparison to her usual additional dogging against whoever the victim was) made hitoshi snort.
“what gene’s did you inherit, huh, eri-chan?” the green haired boy asked, humoring his sister. “is it his abysmal fashion sense?”
“me and hito-nii got some of the height,” she snarked with sass that she so inherently picked up from her brothers. she sauntered over to pretend to compare their heights with the flat of her hand gesturing from the top of her own head to izuku’s. “can’t say the same for you, big brother.”
they were nearly the same height at this point and it was definitely a sore spot for hizashi’s tiny green son.
“i’m willing to bet you also inherit his charming social skills and personality,” izuku quipped, his stance shifting to look ready to jump his sister.
“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” eri hmped, crossing her arms over her chest, unbothered.
“i’m just saying it takes a special kind of person to carry around a spritz bottle to use on people that annoy them-“
“hizashi.” a mournful cry summoned the man from the kitchen. hizashi got up, hitoshi largely undisturbed despite having lost his human pillow, too busy recording the verbal takedown that was unfolding. he padded over to the kitchen, poking his head in to see his husband hunched over the table, stacks of papers strew about.
“they’re insulting each other and yet, i’m the one catching strays,” shouta bemoaned, though his voice remained flat and monotonous.
“they’re definitely your kids,” hizashi snorted taking a seat next to his husband.
“hellspawns the lot of them. maybe we should call an exorcist?” the dark haired man suggested, putting minimal effort (which is more effort than he would usually bother with on a normal day) into looking pitiful.
his lukewarm performance was not given a chance to even attempt at persuading his husband before they were swarmed by said hellspawns.
eri clambered into shouta’s lap with an over exaggerated cry of ‘dad, izu is bullying me!’, a habit she had shamelessly clung on to despite growing into her teens while izuku had taken to climbing their other dad like a tree until he was latched onto the man’s back like a monkey and hissing like a feral cat in retaliation. hitoshi, the less tactile of the three had taken a seat across from the two men, following the other two to spectate on the drama it seemed.
“what are you two talking about?”
“opening a summoning circle to hell to send you where you came from for some alone time with your father.”
“eww, are you flirting at the expense of your children?”
“you know, sho. if we exorcised these gremlins, we could have more peace flirting,” hizashi mused thoughtfully, wiggling his eyebrows at the implication of an empty nest.
truly, it was impressive how synchronized the siblings were with their gagging.
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hizashi had a love hate relationship with car rides, especially ones with his entire circus of a family. never a dull moment, let him tell you. every time he had to herd all three of his ever growing children into their little family car it was as though the car shrunk in size with how much they bicker.
“oi, scooch over. you’re squishing me.”
“i’m already in the middle, damn it. why are you taking so much space?! you don’t even have an ass!”
”he got that from papa lol.”
“i’m going to throw you out the window.”
“daaaad, tell toshi you love him less because he’s adopted!” eri’s words were cut off by a shriek from hitoshi elbowing her thighs.
“honey, we love all our adopted and biological children the same,” hizashi soothed, glancing into the rear view mirror, amused.
“hizashi, they’re all adopted,” shouta muttered loud enough in his ‘sleep’ that everyone knew was to avoid the incessant whining.
“does that mean you love all of us less?!” izuku gasped theatrically because he was a little shit who likes adding fuel to the fire, watch the building burn down, and start another fire next door.
“of course no-“
“absolutely. i would sell all three of you for a half eaten bag of chips. now shut up.”
“shouta!”
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“oh, i’m so proud of how much you’ve grown,” hizashi fawned over his daughter donned in the UA uniform, smoothing over non-existent wrinkles while the teen rolled her eyes fondly. “i remember the day you were born, and look at you now! all grown up,” the blonde gushed, not noticing the faces his children pulled at his words.
“geez, pops. sorta rude of you to only attend eri’s birth but neither of your sons’,” hitoshi drawled lazily from where he was sipping coffee at the kitchen table.
“this distinctly feels like the time eri cried because dad and pops didn’t invite her to their wedding,” izuku added through a mouthful of pancakes.
“…oh my god, i forgot.”
“papa, at this point you gotta confess that you have a secret love child you birthed,” eri snorted, sitting next to izuku to steal a pancake, dodging a halfhearted stab of a fork in her direction.
“one day, i’m going to photoshop our faces on random babies and manipulate pops into manifesting memories of our childhood,” izuku said with a yawn, his siblings perking up with great interest at thee idea.
“that sounds psychopathic. i’m so proud of you,” shouta mumbled in passing as he made a beeline for the coffee maker, half asleep.
hizashi despairs.