#❛ cue the existential crisis / ans. asks.

[blstys]

runs at a full sprint towards the other before leaping at the last moment, onto his back, limbs wrapping securely around bakugou's torso. "GUESS WHO BLASTY!" never mind the fact that kirishima had not, in fact, run up from behind.

no  one  drinking  a  cup  of  coffee  is  ever  prepared  to  catch  a  flying  boulder  but  bakugou  has  invested  in  a  spill - proof  tumbler  for  just  this  reason !  it  is  unfortunate  that  said  tumbler  is  not  what  he’s  holding.  well,  shit,  alright.

the  piles  of  books  do  tumble  dramatically,  spines  crooked  and  pages  annoyingly  bent  in  on  themselves.  katsuki  might  feel  for  them  a  pang  of  apology  but  is  preoccupied;  legs  brace  for  impact,  arms  poised  not  to  drop  their  more  recent  occupant.

there  is  little  else  —  if  anything,  truly  —  he  could  be  holding  that  kirishima  would  not  take  precedence  over.  “ i’ll  tell  you  the  fuck  what,  you  surely  are  a  mystery. ”  kirishima’s  nose  gets  a  kiss  ( and  maybe  a  nip  of  teeth )  for  the  trouble.

[blstys-a]

runs right into his room and without saying a word, he dumps an armful of various pocky boxes onto the blonde’s lap, smile both smug and excited. “hey blasty.”

where any other person would have gotten at least a glare for their un-pardoned intrusion,his is accepted without an argument. bakugou would write it off as a boyfriend benefit but the truth is that it’s always been an exclusively kirishima perk for balconies and bedroom doors alike.

with his dog-eared book now obstructed by a rainbow of pocky boxes, bakugou has no choice but to draw his attention upward to the one who’d put them there. at the very least, that’s the excuse he gives himself to shrug off studying for the more favourable option. amusement quirks his brows upward; teases the cheeky dimple to match, “ you know, part of the dating thing is that you can just ask to kiss me now instead of trying to be sneaky about it. ”

“ are we going to be one of those couples, then? anniversaries for every milestone? ”  bakugou’s teeth make an appearance, the flash of a canine smile. he knows very well that they have always been that couple, however unintentionally.

he unearths the book from under the plethora of flavours to discard it on his bedside table and unfolds crossed legs to let the boxes fall out of his lap. ever the sucker for a parallel, he chooses the original chocolate one first and wastes no time in dipping into it.  “ are we going to play for every cookie — ?  we’re going to have to give up at least half of our Sunday if that’s the case. ”  bakugou makes no room for misunderstandings: it is obvious he would not mind if that were the case,  “ but — ya know, that’s fine. ”

[blastyexplodo-blog]

COME!

           his breaths cut short as if his throat is suddenly full of sludge and he coughs just the same, panic rising like bile ; hands scrambling for purchase in all might’s grasp only to come up empty and grasping for air as the corners of his vision fuzz.

          swallowed. everything goes dark ; it’s unlike the warp gate — it’s unlike anything ; even with eyes wide open, he’s swathed in a blackness he can’t akin to anything. 

          he thinks death before the sweeping darkness blurs charcoal again at the edges, the darkness fading out in reverse effect for the light to rush back in. the scenery has changed. not death, nor it’s brother sleep, but relocation. spit back out.

          bakugou stumbles the landing. lungs kick up a fight ; he gasps air, chokes, coughs. “ what the hell— ” a hand lifts to his throat, just to double check that nothing remains there. the relief halts half way to fruition. he is not safe. no — his body ceases without time to flinch. 

          an apology through the mask of a man ( is he even a man? if not one than what? ) that turns the core of him cold. 

          frozen, face contorted in an expression of anger, sweat adheres his shirt to his back. he had been afraid— deny it as he has, and will continue to do— he has been afraid every moment since the hand around his throat kept him in place through the warp gate.

          until then, bakugou has been no stranger to being scared, either. he had believed his relationship with fear to intimate and easily manageable. he had been wrong.

          now, the definition of TERROR has been re-written to include previously unfathomable complexities ; previously unfathomable horrors. his capacity for it grows, deepens, hollows, fills — every crevice of his body makes room for it ; for a startling moment it is the ONLY thing that he knows. for a starling moment, he can’t remember ever not being afraid.

          attention shifts away from him— though he is aware that his presence is in no way forgotten— and he can at the very least suck in air again. he can see now, the carnage that lays around them. the state of pros ranked in the top ten, the top five no less. ALL MIGHT burst through with a wind that knocks nearly all of them backward and bakugou scrambles again to find footing.

          it serves a reminder: it was never about a lack of feeling or an abundance of fearlessness. strength came from moving despite the quiver in his lower lip ; from standing his ground when the walls threatened to cave in ; from fighting to prevent people like him from being taken. it was about presenting a facade. a smile, never faltering. a confidence that does not waver. this is where his anger kicks in.

          he is in the way. 

          hands, quirks, blades come begging for a piece of him. his own fingers curl to pool more sweat in his palms while his mind struggles to strategize an escape. it is all he can do to stay out of reach from his kidnapper and the rest of the league— it is all he can do to feel guilty as he fights to maintain that distance and not be in the way. but he is, regardless. 

          all might is holding back like he did at usj. those seconds are so valuable and bakugou is the reason they’re being wasted ; the reason all might is allowing himself to be being tossed around. 

          the situations ; the reasons ; the thoughts keep repeating themselves on a loop. explosion, plan, fail, explosion, duck, jump, plan, fail, explosion. the ground shakes from the impact of a blow to all might and his throat rips raw with the concern that cloaks his name, ALL MIGHT. it’s nothing to worry about— he’ll be fine, that’s not enough to kill him, even his enemy says but bakugou’s whole body heightens with rage. 

          he needs to find a way out of here before he costs more than it’s worth to save.

          ICE BREAKS through the fence behind him with a familiarity that adrenaline instantly places but is still impossible to believe. 

          it can’t be— but it is: limbs and bodies propelled into the air by quirk given force and speed of his classmates. most notably ; most importantly— one of which is the face of the only person who makes it feel like a viable option. 

          calm washes over the wary set of his shoulders. extended to him, from an unreachable height, is a demand. bakugou rises to meet it with hesitation.

          he uses every ounce of power in his body to propel himself forward, reaching toward someone he’s never considered a savior but has always been his equal. heroes, bakugou remembers again, move despite the fear and without thinking. there will be consequences, surely.

                  you idiots.

          the contact comes with a smack of desperation and the grasp of safety. it is the only thing that brings him a sense of comfort ( fleeting as it might be during the catastrophe that will follow shortly ).he holds on too tightly ; relief clings to the outer corners of his mouth as it cuts dangerously into his cheeks. 

          wind whips hair into his eyes but they glow bright with victory. he shouts against the wind, flashing his teeth,

                                                                                             “ you stupid or something ?! ”

          he means to say thank you but words get twisted on their way out. his grip tightens— a squeeze— and continues to hold on long after their feet make contact with the pavement. still, he hopes it’s enough to convey his gratitude more than it confirms his need to be saved.

          (  he’ll have trouble letting go of kirishima when they take him away for questioning ; as if prying apart their fingers came with a sense of finality— that it would be over and with the loss of the hand that saved him, he’d no longer be SAFE.  )   / @redrioted

[casimania]

Lucifer AU where Abel doesn't die and Cain steps down as Lieutenant to keep an eye on him and disappears from sesaon 3 from that point.

Then there's just a spin-off of Cain trying to keep Abel alive and help him just in day to day life (cause as much as demons modernized his loop he doesn't actually have any experience on how to actually live in the 21st century) so they can find a way to end the curse. All without actually interacting too much with him cause Abel still hasn't shaken off the "my hell loop was just you killing me over and over again in different ways), also cause they still don't get along too much.

So Cain and Abel mostly talking via phone calls/texts, Cain using his less scummy Sinnerman contacts to keep a closer eye on Abel. Like he literally plops down someone who owes him a favour in an apartment as a roommate before releasing Abel into the wild so he actually learns how it is to live on his own. Cue frantic call in the middle of the night because Abel follows the women he meets going up and down the stairs and keeps propositioning them and talking about all of his sheep and how cool and awesome they were compared to Cain's stupid field which suck and Cain's like "My field weren't stupid and they didn't suck!!" and asks to have Abel on the phone and they start yelling at each other. The person he sent to live with Abel asks themselves what the fuck did they actually get into. Abel also randomly calls Cain at any hour to ask about stuff like "I forgot how the remote works" and Cain asks him why didn't he wake up the person he specifically sent to help him with that shit, Abel replies "But they're sleeping, I didn't want to disturb them!" so Cain goes "And you didn't mind disturbing me?" and Abel shrugs "No, you deserve this and worse". Cain's seething but it's not like he can do anything about it.

And then there's Abel dealing with being in an unfamiliar body completely different from his own, like at first it was all fun and them and then "Wait, this is me now" *existential crisis* but also slowly letting go of the "If I have too much fun a demon wearing Cain's face is going to break down the door and kill me" thing. And just, being alive for real and doing stuff and it's both fun and overwhelming.

Cain goes through 8 mood swings a day cause first he's the closest he can come to happy cause he's got some hope for the first time ever, then he's biting his fingers over the dumb stuff Abel does that almost get him into trouble, then he's depressed cause this is probably not going to work, then he's angry and fighting with Abel over stupid shit, then he's depressed again this time cause even if it could work maybe Abel dies first because he's a dumbass and accidents happen or it takes so long he dies of old age. He went so long feeling only apathy and then in close succession he got Lucifer's antics ans now all of this and he's like "I want to go back at having no emotions please..."

Sometimes Cain or Abel wonder about Lucifer in a competent random moment and there's a cut to Lucifer and he's in full Devil form lugging demons around and Chloe is ducking Maze jumping at one and shooting more of them and everyone's yelling. Then there's a cut back to Cain teaching Abel how to turn on the washing machine while the roomie talks about different kinds of detergents. Or Lucifer is snuggling with Chloe and winders what are those two shitheaded siblings on about and it cuts to Cain and Abel fighting over something that happened before Abel died at full volume and it's something completely stupid like that time Abel made fun of how badly Cain sang and said he did it much better and Cain punched him in the face and broke his nose. And on both ends of the line there are people staring at them like "what the fuck".

At some point Abel must get accidentally involved in something pretty big and gets kidnapped and Cain has to mobilitate himself and what remains of his Sinnerman contacts (his protégé made a mess while he was focused on infiltrating LA) to save his ass. Like how is it so hard to keep him alive??

Then Eve appears in Lucifer (instead of Charlotte she spoke with Father Frank but it took her a while to find him and then find a way to leave Heaven) and when she leave in Lucifer it's because she decided to visit Cain and Abel. If she gotta figure herself out she wants to talk to her sons first. She also doesn't want to be too close to Cain either and doesn't know half a thing about living completely on her own and Cain has to suddenly deal with keeping an eye on his mother too and instead of phone calls he gets postcards from her ("Snowboarding is fun, please be good and don't kill your brother :-)") . Except she's got Lucifer's money, wants to see the world and she's a lot more clever than Abel so keeping tabs on her is different.

[blstys]

depiglio : *runs at you like a badass*

                                          he’s  going  to  start  running  about  it.

[blstys]

COME BACK COME BACK

                no.

[blstys]

what up fuck

ah,  the  prodigal  prince  returns,  mounted  on  the  effervescent  throne  of  bullshit.  how  quickly  the  crown  finds  an  icy  skull  to  lay  upon,  heavy.  thorned.  how  quickly  katsuki’s  smile  does  the  same;  canines  flashed  like  the  scales  of  deep  sea  fish  in  the  bloodied  cave  of  his  mouth.

“ nothing  much,  angel, ”  katsuki  drops  the  word  like  it,  itself  has  fallen  from  the  heavens  to  land  in  the  pit  of  a  rotten  garden.  he  means lucifer.   “  seen  your  half - baked  handler  around  lately.  staying  out  of  everybody’s  reach,  then?  or  is  that  a personal  thing ~ ?  ”  ah,  it  burns  to  break  open.  he  had  hoped  time  would  make  him  feel  different.  he  doesn’t.  

“  welcome  home,  sho. ”

[blstys]

@godtierbreath​​  said:   ❝  this  is  not  harmless.  you  are  not  breathing.  ❞

shivering,  chattering  teeth.  sweat  currently  useless  but  unnecessary  at  the  moment.  it  is  not  an  attack  he  is  under  (despite  how  it  feels,  being  asked  after  by  some  sleeve - sewn  heartache  personified:  are  you  alright?  who  the  fuck  has  the  nerve  to  ask  after  him  in  the  first  place?)  but  the  weather.  not  a  cold  but  literally  drenched  in  freezing  rain.  isn’t  it  supposed  to  be  fucking  spring  already?  cherry  blossom  blooms?

❛  rain  is  perfectly  fucking  harmless, ❜  he  clatters,  biting  out  the  syllables.

bakugou  has  mastered  the  winter,  cold  will  not  hold  him  hostage  again.  neither  will  villains  or  gods  damned  general  education  students.  ❛   aren’t  i?  ❜  grit  teeth,  pull  air,  pull  air,  pull  air.

out,  katsuki. in,  in,  out.  he  had  needed  the  reminder  but  hell  will  freeze  over  twice  before  the  refusal  to  admit  that  lifts.  born  impatient,  he  does  not  have  the  time  to  argue  with  a  gen  ed  kid  about  breath  techniques.

richard  siken  sentence  starters  —  accepting

[blstys]

shoves his cold hands up the back of katsuki's shirt. annoying.

touch  has  become  a  welcome  intrusion,  an  anticipated  visitor.  katsuki  very  nearly  leans  back  into  drag  of  fabric  before  the  speed  registers  as  something  tricksy.  TOO  LATE !  he  jolts  forward  by  the  shock  of  cold,  gasps  after  the  loss  of  a  breath  stolen  from  his  lungs.

oh,  if  the  surprise  doesn’t  rattle  his  bones  with  irritation  it  is  an  emotion  like  it  but  different;  one  turned  gently  to  catch  a  new  facet  in  a  certain  light.

still  young  enough  for  childhood  pettiness  to  cling  to  the  bits  of  him  that  have  yet  to  hit  that  certain  light,  katsuki  bites  back.  a  scrambling  of  limbs  and  curses  to  untangle,  to  capture  cold  fingers  in  perpetually  warmer  palms.

“  you  grade - a  nuisance!  the  day  you’re  fucking  unleashed  on  society  should  make  grown - men  nervous!  ”  there  is  not  a  single  thread  of  serious  anger,  despite  the  threat  of  his  breath  huffed  through  teeth.  in  fact,  facade  is  so  quick  to  crack  open  that  his  own  laughter  serves  as  a  second,  softer  shock  than  cold  fingers  had  been.

“  one  of  these  fucking  days,  denki  —  i’m  going  to  get  you  back  for  all  your  little  tricks.  you  think  you’re  the  only  one  full  of  surprises?  ”  crushed  velvet  threats  glisten  in  the  curve  of  his  mouth,  an  upward  lift.  he  means  it  no  less  for  the  way  his  edges  are  blunted.

[blstys]

' the thought that counts ' is making its most literal appearance here, presented in the small bag of special chocolates denki dangles in front of katsuki's face ; a particularly ballsy move. leaning over the back of the couch as far as he can without falling forward, feet dangling behind him, he pulls himself over katsuki's head to plant a little upside - down kiss to the tip of his nose. ' hi. this is gonna be insanely awkward if you already have a valentine. '

there  is  nothing  left  to  lose  in  light  of  recent  confrontation.  katsuki  offers  none  of  the  cautiousness  that  denki  exhibits.  one  hand  reaches  for  the  holiday  treat  while  the  other  grasps  the  collar  of  his  gift - giver’s  shirt  and  yanks  hard  to  draw  him  further  down.

by  no  means  is  the  act  malicious.  quite  the  opposite,  katsuki  only  brings  denki  within  the  perfect  range  to  receive  proper  gratitude.  his  mouth  aligns  with  lips  previously  ghosting  the  tip  of  his  nose  to  plant  a  proper  kiss,  in  spider - man’s  blockbuster  move.

a  smirk  slices  open  his  face,  replacing  the  usual  scowl  with  something  a  shade  sweeter.  cheeks,  too,  flush  a  favourable  colour.

“ your  application  is  under  review — but  it’s  a  safe  bet  you’ll  get  the  position. ”

[blstys]

picks him up by the waist and spins him around!! “hey blasty.”

limbs immediately threaten to flail their attached body free,  stalling only at the familiar flash of red hair that follows the swift twirl he’d caught up in.  

the initial intrusion peels back to a wash of relief,  the arms around him recognized.  this does not prevent the SQUAWK that escapes upon being lifted but it does save kirishima’s face from a bombastic assault of reciprocation.  if only just.

“ HEY YOURSELF,  SHITTY HAIR, ”  he retaliates,  full flush in the face.  “  put me down,  ya idiot, ”  is a gruff demand,  the previous squawk having roughened the edge of his voice.  it’s still more pout than venom to the trained ear.

a hand curls from the offensive back into the defensive,  a gently fist to the collarbone of his captor.  his heart rate remains quickened;  the shock of it all taking the brunt of the blame but the closeness,  still,  taking the passenger seat.  on his way back to the ground,  he drops a kiss to the corner of kirishima’s mouth regardless.  

“ stop giving me fucking heart attacks. ”

[blstys]

a package would be sent to the dorms, addressed to bakugou himself. inside would be another box, this one wrapped in thin denim and tied with a belt acting as a bow of sorts. past the ridiculous wrapping would be a black denim vest, the sleeves distressed, and the likeness of bakugou's gauntlet embroidered in colored thread on the back. in one of the pockets would be a card. 'happy birthday, bakugou. hope you don't mind me getting the jumpstart on your own hero line. - best jeanist'

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BLASTY 2K19 / @jeanvogue

gifts are never expected — with the exception of his parents — given that until recently bakugou wasn’t much of a team player. thus, the first surprise is that there is a surprise at all.

he need not read the card to know who this particular gift is from. anyone with a general knowledge of the top heroes would be able to guess from the wrapping alone. it is nearly enough to make him laugh; it is enough to make him roll his eyes as he undoes the belted trappings.

the second surprise is that the present itself ( though expectantly denim ) is not the crisp, tailored pair of pants he had suspected — but something perfectly tailored to who he is.

having parents in the fashion industry has certainly given him an eye for quality when it comes to things of this nature — but it is his internship with jeanist that has given him appreciation for them. would he be caught dead saying such a thing? likely not. the way his fingertips trace the familiar shape of his gauntlet says it in volumes for him. what an odd thing to be seen for who you are; an odder one to be accepted and even celebrated for it. that may be the point of birthdays — this, somehow, feels different. jeanist, it seems, has given him an even better gift than anticipated. one he hadn’t even known he wanted.

[blstys]

"happy birthday mcsplodes! i made a cake for ya without messing up the kitchen!" and it totally says 'i

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BLASTY 2K19 / @rdriots

        bakugou eyes the frosted letters and hums consideration. the heart catches him for a beat or two longer than he might admit. one might mistake the glimmer in his gaze for pride if they didn’t know better.

           a familiar, infuriatingly warm swell of emotion clogs his chest and empties his lungs with a small laugh, “ thanks — ya know, on behalf the kitchen mostly — but for the cake too. ” his gratitude isn’t grand in words but he leans over, careful not to squish the cake, and presses a kiss to kirishima’s temple and hopes that he knows what it means. i .

[blstys]

Wishes him a happy birthday by taking cake frosting and dabbing it on his cheek. Then nose. Mission accomplished!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BLASTY 2K19 / @heromight

a huff of distaste and a rumble of nose that comes from minor discomfort; it remains unclear whether he permits the action or doesn’t respond in time to dodge the attacks. 

eyes narrow the same either way. rebuttal comes with a palm fill of frosting and midoriya’s whole freckles face. victory tastes especially sweet today. though — that might just be the frosting.

[blstys-a]

WWE BIRTHDAY THROWDOWN EDITION!

         BIRTHDAY OR NOT — I WON’T GO EASY ON YOU, SHARKY!

[blstys-a]

        caught. jean clad, hand in the cookie jar. 

        realistically bakugou knows it’s too late. it’s been spotted. there’s no reasonable way he can deny it without being a terribly obvious liar. illogically he still has the immediate urge to claw the jacket off, throw it in the gutter and proclaim what jacket, he has absolutely no idea what jeanist is referring to, thank you very fucking much. 

        because he’s not entirely insane he leaves the jacket on his shoulders, even as they square with the tension of being found out.

         “ it’s not what it fucking looks like. ”  it is absolutely what it fucking looks like. there’s even a tasteful jeanist patch on the breast pocket.  /  @jeanvogue