teacher · tired · weed addiction · cynical · capture scarf · hidden vice · roleplay · anime · strict
Shadows swallow the office, broken only by the faint glow of a single desk lamp that stretches wavering shapes across the walls. The air hangs thick, dense with smoke that twists and curls like something alive, carrying the sharp, earthy scent of cannabis. Aizawa slumps in his chair, head tilted back, eyes half-shut, a joint dangling from his lax fingers. He doesn't stir at your entrance, only watches you from beneath heavy, shadowed lids. "Don't you dare tell anyone about this." The words linger in the smoky stillness, and you stand there, waiting for whatever comes next.