#I’ve been writing all day

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “sweet and intimate actions which make me go feral and have me folding like a folding chair” prompts 

Character B carding their fingers through Character A’s hair and playing with the strands.

Character B peeling back the neck of Character A’s turtle neck sweater to trail gentle kisses down their neck. (This!! It is so hot, and it's everything I didn't know I needed until now, and I cannot stop thinking about it wlkfnlkwe)

Character B placing their arm around Character A’s waist while in public, resting their chin on Character A’s shoulder. “Hello,” they say in a teasing tone as Character A tries to grab ahold of their hand to keep it there but fails a few times before successfully doing so. 

Leaning against each other while in public.

Spooning and back hugs.

Character B letting Character A rest their head on their chest; lets them listen to their heart beat. 

Character B whispering sweet nothings into Character A’s ear.

Character B checking in on Character A to make sure they’re comfortable and okay with the way things are going; to make sure they’re not being too much. “You’re not,” Character A would reassure, repositioning themselves to get closer to Character B.

Just cuddles and snuggles in general.

Neck kisses.

Kisses littered all over the face. (!!! It's one thing to read about it and one thing to experience it wlejbfewljn)

Character B tucking Character A’s head under their chin while they’re cuddling.

Character B nuzzling their neck and breathing in Character A’s scent/fragrance, and commenting on how nice they smell.

Character B making sure Character A gets home safe by driving them home.

Character A telling Character B to message them when they get back home safe, and once Character B gets home, they follow through by sending a message to let Character A know they’ve gotten back home safe.

Taking naps together, from day till night, waking up every now and then to get more snuggles in. 

That soft exhalation of adoring laughter leaving Character B’s mouth after kissing Character A (this shit had me folding so fucking hard it’s not even funny. I Am Weak). 

That soft exhalation of laughter once again just because Character B is so content with having Character A in their presence, and Character A just basking in how cute that sound is and how happy it makes them. 

Character B entangling their legs with Character A’s, pressing their bodies flush against each other’s, leaving little to no space between them. (It’s almost like they can’t get enough of Character A.) 

Kissing so many times, to the point where they lose track of how many times they’ve kissed already. 

Holding hands and lacing their fingers together while they’re cuddling.

Comparing hand sizes and giggling about it together.

Character B stroking Character A’s hair while they’re asleep. (Or uh, pretends to be asleep DJSKKSKDSK but it’s so FUCKING CUTE WHEN HE DID THAT IM GONNA SCREAM, me thinking moments like these only happen in Korean dramas or some shit anfkakfksk-)

The sweet little banters in between; Character B being all cheesy and Character A playfully deflecting their comments only for Character B to playfully push back with an “Is something wrong with that?” or “But I’m not lying.”

Falling asleep in each other’s arms, both not wanting to leave the bed for the entire day and wanting to stay comfortably snuggled up against each other instead.

Character B placing their hands on Character A’s shoulders, and Character A, with a grin on their face, gently grabs Character B’s hands and wraps their arms around their neck while leaning back into them. Character B reciprocates by hugging them closer to them.

The soft noises of content Character A makes when they snuggle closer to Character B, or when they want Character B to hold them closer to them, with Character B happily obliging. 

Character B rubbing their cheek against Character A’s.

Character B trying to not wake Character A up because they look so comfortable when sleeping. (His words, not mine.) 

Soft, repeated pecks on the lips, causing Character A to laugh/smile against Character B’s lips. 

[lovealwayssay]

I would pay an ungodly amount of money for a Supernatural finale where Dean rescues Cas from the Empty and tells him he loves him too, Eileen comes back to be with Sam, and Jack chooses to live with the four of them in the bunker as a happy family.

[hootyhoowoo]

A little 15 min doodle but first post of the year has to be Bingqiu!

[theorphicangel]

“Toji, you’re gonna die if you go in there.”

The man sitting beside you huffs, his large hands gripping your controller. a lazy sunday afternoon and you both have nothing better to be doing so you get the idea of playing video games with your lover and perhaps show Toji your favourite childhood game — Minecraft.

but now you’re thinking that maybe it wasn’t the best idea.

“you’re gonna die.” you repeat watching as he leads his character in first person pov to a cave.

“die from what?” he mumbles. his limps are outstretched on the couch and you lay comfortable on his chest. you decided to play on the tv screen so you could get a better idea of explaining but in the current moment it doesn’t seem to be going so well.

“I dunno….there’s zombies, skeletons and creepers.” you note, a rise of anxiety sweeps throughout your body. he’s gonna die, you think again but your lips fail to sound the words out.

“s’okay, I got a sword.” He mutters, squinting his eyes.

“out of wood.” you deadpan, “that won’t kill them fast enough.”

Toji makes no reply, focusing on the screen.

“you don’t even have a torch—“ you speak up again but your words are interrupted when all of a sudden, Toji’s body shifts from a scare.

“fuck, what was that?”

the screen jumps with every hit and the once full red hearts begin to empty rapidly.

“you’re getting hit by a skeleton, move!”

“I’m trying!” he calls out in frustration, trying to manoeuvre out of the way.

The character on the screen attempts to run away, back to the entrance of the cave to escape. More monsters seem to emerge from the darkness, rapidly chasing after the character.

“quick!” the hearts on the screen continue to decrease with every hit. He was close to making it to the exit of the cave yet before you know it, it was too late.

A silence sits heavy over the two of you.

‘you died!”

‘Toji was blown up by a creeper.’

“I didn’t even hear that little shit.”

“that’s why it’s called a creeper, love, they sneak up on you.”

Toji mutters a few curse words, passing the controller back to you. you take it gladly and return back to then main menu to create a new world.

“let’s go on creative mode for now babe.”

join my summer event here!

[fireheartpages]

survived | b.d.

bodhi durran x reader chapter five. series masterlist summary: everyone has their demons, you just chose to run from yours. straight to basgiath war college. and definitely not towards the grinning tall, dark, and handsome marked rider that seemed too kind to be in a hardened place like the rider's quadrant. when you catch his attention and bond a conundrum of a dragon, you finally feel like you can catch your breath. until your signet develops. word count: 2.4k notes: second person pov, reader uses she/her pronouns, has a dirty dancing nickname and a last name. this one’s kinda heavy! mentions of struggling with self worth and trauma, talks about death and an allusion to suicide. if you hear someone buzzing with excitement, it's just me, don't worry! this is the idea i had stuck in my head, for quite a few reasons, and i wanted so badly to get it out on page and now its in my hands ah. not even kidding when i say this concept was eating me alive form the inside out. this feels like the closing chapter, so tbh idk if im gonna write anything more. if i come up with something, or anyone has any requests, i’ll get my pen to page tho :)

You were a good student. A great one, even.

You were top of most classes, feeling like you needed to prove something, and if you weren’t top, one of your friends were, and you were right behind them. And it was true—you were an incredible rider. You could stand on Shocair’s back, and shift your weight and she would bank with the direction. You’d taken up archery, another thing you excelled at. Your aim could use some improvement, but you were getting better. A little more practice, and you could consider yourself a decent shot. And despite your signet not developing yet, you were perfecting your smaller magics. And at sparring—

At sparring, you were okay. Kind of.

You could hold your own, and you were quick. Fast feet and good reflexes, but it was as if you didn’t know how to use those skills.

You were not top of challenges, to say the least.

“Yield!” you gasp, face to the mat as a boy from Second Wing attempts to crush your windpipe. “I yield!”

He lets up, laughing at you, and you roll onto your back, catching your breath. You blink a few times, willing the spots from your vision, but it gets darker and—

No, there’s just someone standing over you.

“Hi, Bodhi,” you rasp up to him.

“Hi, Baby,” he says, extending a hand.

“Hi.” You’re panting a little, but at least your vision is focusing.

“That was…”

“Pathetic. I know.” You wipe the sweat from your forehead and a tear from your eye as your wrist gives protest. You probably smashed it with a bad punch.

“I was not going to say that,” he says, grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. That corner of his lips was one of your favorite things at Basgiath.

“It’s okay,” you say. “At least I’m aware of it.”

“I can help,” he says, a little too quick to be casual, but you don’t mind. It makes you smile.

Your brows raise. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He drops your hand, and only then did you realize he was still holding it. “We can practice sparring.”

“You just… want to help me?” You furrow your brow. “Out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Uh—” He falters. “If you teach me how to ride like you do, I’ll teach you how to spar.”

You nod slowly. “Sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you say, fighting a losing battle with your smile. His eyes were dancing. “When do we start?”

“Now.” He offers you a hand, and leads you over to an empty mat.

“You’re quick, and you’re smart, and when you win, it’s by outsmarting your opponent,” he says over his shoulder, coming to stand in the middle of the mat. He removes his daggers, tossing them on the floor beside the mat and leaving one strapped to his arm. He spins to face you. “Easy money.” He taps his arm where the remaining dagger sits. “Take it from me.”

You shake your head. “Okay.”

You lunge, going for his feet, and he jumps, landing and taking a knee that knocks your own until you’re kneeling, and he’s on top of you, pressing you to the floor. You feel his laugh rumble through his chest against your back, his breath on the side of your face.

“Did I say easy?” he teases.

“You dick—” You struggle, but it’s futile. He lays there for a beat longer, pinning you with his body weight, and you have a flash of an image in your mind, him on top of you, in between your hips—

“Focus.” It's Shocair. Your next exhale is a thanks.

He relents, standing up, offering you a hand, and you’re barely on your feet again before he twists it behind you.

“Take me down,” he said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You—you falter. Fuck. This guy is distracting.

He wrenches your arm away, pushing you away from him, and you’re helpless as you step out and back into him. He pulls you close, and there’s no viciousness in it, no mirth—he’s near gentle as he wraps an arm around you, over your neck, and his other hand disables your free one. He kicks the back of your knee again and beings you both down until you’re kneeling.

“What do you do now, Baby?” It’s your name, but it’s so obviously not, and he’s grinning. This asshole is kicking your ass without even trying and he’s still. Fucking. Grinning.

Gods, you suck at this.

No, actually, fuck this.

You twist your neck so you’re nose to nose with him—kinda, you have to look up to see his face, and he’s already looking down at you. You suck in a breath, looking at his lips. His grip loosens.

Your twist, dragging your joined hands behind you until you’re facing him and you let your body weight fall back. He lands on top of you, right as you knee him in the balls.

He doubles over with a gasp, and you take the opportunity to head butt him. You hear the impact, and you shove him off of you. You jump up, snatching the dagger from his arm band.

“I did it!” you shout, victorious.

“That’s my girl,” Shocair sends down the bond with a beat of pride.

Bodhi rolls over, clutching his face, and you offer him a hand. He takes it, and it takes more strength than it should to get him standing. You rub your forehead where you had hit him, a little sore. This man is pure muscle, even in his face.

He takes his hand away, and it’s bloody. Your eyes widen, a gasp slipping from you.

“Oh my gods. I’m so sorry!” You rush to him, hands cradling the side of your face.

“Nah,” he says, grinning even now. “All’s fair in love and war.”

Your stomach clenches at the words. “Please tell me I didn’t break your nose.”

He shakes his head. “I think the bleeding’s stopping, so, no, not broken.” He tips his head back.

“No, wait,” you say, placing a hand on the back of his neck. “Forward, or else all the blood is gonna end up in your stomach.”

Bodhi flinches. “I don’t have anything to stop the bleeding.”

You glance around frantically, looking for something, anything, before landing on your own t-shirt. You grasp Bodhi’s dagger—now yours, by the laws of the codex—in your hand and rip a band of it, cropping it to your navel before handing the black fabric to him. He takes it and presses it to his nose.

“You did not have to do that,” he says, words muffled.

“I broke your nose. Yes, I did.” You gently pull his hand away, examining his face, cradling his jaw with one hand. Besides being beautiful and a bit red, and smeared with blood, you didn’t see any bruising.

His eyes trace your expression, landing on your lips, and he just… stares. And stares.

“I think you’re okay,” you say softly.

“I know I am.” He’s grinning again, invisible string tugging that corner up. Your hands are on his face, and this is your chance—you run your thumb along his lips as if you could smooth out his smile—but you don’t want to. The way it tilts to one side is quite possibly your favorite thing about him.

“You have a bruise forming.” His thumb comes up, brushing the skin of your temple—presumably from where you had nearly broken his nose.

“It’s your snout,” you whisper.

"Hey." His grin softens, and he leans down, pressing a kiss to the bruise.

“Shit,” he says, reaching up and wiping the cloth over it. “Sorry, blood.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of you as your heart rate kicks up again. And he just stares at you again, like his gaze is stuck.

“I love your laugh,” he says, like a secret, like it’s a whispered admission.

“Your smile,” you responded, equally as quiet, and suddenly you’re little kids at a sleepover, sharing secrets by candlelight, “it’s my favorite thing about you.”

That just widened his grin, and you let your ambitions run free, running your thumb over his bottom lip, cleaning off the blood that had spilled as you beam back at him.

He’s looking at your lips, and he leans in.

Someone drops a weight across the gym, and it makes you jump, creating space between the two of you, and there’s some mix of longing and disappointment in his eyes as you stop back.

“I should go,” you say. “Sorry. About your nose.”

“Sorry about your head,” he says.

You’re walking away, grabbing your flight jacket when he calls, “Tomorrow? Can I see you tomorrow?”

“Let’s go flying tomorrow evening,” you say over your shoulder. “I have a thing or two to show you.”

“I’ll be an eager student!” he says, and you smile all the way back to your dorm.

You let a mender fix the blossoming bruise on your temple when your vanity wins out. The next morning, Shocair has some choice words for you, all of which you ignore, in favor of playing the almost kiss over and over again in your head.

(You don’t even bother to block you out, and it’s something like excitement, or contentment that fills your chest every time you think about how he was looking at you, and you realize it wasn’t your emotions at all.)

You’re sitting at the table in the library, next to Violet and Rhiannon as you comb over another textbook on signets. You and Violet had taken to sharing notes you find, seeing if you can figure out how to get your signets to develop. Rhi is practically doing Violet's physics homework for her.

Dain is here, for some reason, probably because he’s panting after Violet—and everyone can see it. You’re pretty sure this is some attempt to get back in her good graces. She’s having none of it. The four of you are sitting in silence.

You’re just on a rather interesting part about the reflection of a signet on the rider when you hear,

“I just don’t get it.”

You turn, a little unable to suppress the way your nose scrunches up at Dain’s voice. “What did you just say to me?”

Dain looks at you, confused. “What?”

“Did you not—”

“Hush.” That was Shocair.

“Thought I heard something,” you say, the panic down the bond making you heed the warning. “Sorry, never mind.”

The girls don’t even spare you a second glance, just go back to the work in front of them.

“New subtleties must be taken into account when we investigate causality in quantum mechanics and relativistic quantum field theory in particular. In those two theories, causality—” It’s Rhi’s voice, and you look up, wondering why she’s reading aloud, but—

Her lips aren’t moving.

“Despite these subtleties, causality remains an important and valid concept in—”

“Shocair,” you send down the bond.

“Take a deep breath,” she says into your mind.

You do as told.

“Stretch, like you’re tired.”

You again do as she tells you, throwing in a fake-stifled yawn as you do so.

“Get your things and come to the flight field. Now. Make up an excuse.”

“I’m getting tried,” you say, your pulse kicking up.

All three sets of eyes turn to you.

“I’m gonna head out.”

“Should I—”

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” Dain asks.

“No,” you say, a little too quick. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“That was weird.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“Does she—”

You clamp your eyes shut, and you try your best not to run from the room.

“Shocair.”

“Get here. Now.”

“Tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” you send to her, panic rising in your throat.

“Run.”

You do so, taking off and making it to the flight field in mere minutes.

“Shocair!” you shout.

She’s in front of you, navy scales glittering in the morning light. She wordlessly extends a leg to you, and you climb on, willing tears not to fall.

She takes off, and you’re not even sure where you’re going. She just flies, and you don’t unseat. Don’t stand, don’t ride the wind as if you were the one with wings. Just grip her pommel for dear life until she lands on a cliff side, leg extended for you to dismount.

You step off, and there isn’t a soul around you. The cliffs almost remind you of home. There’s no ocean at their base, but the view is beautiful nonetheless.

Did she bring you here so you could end it yourself, before anyone else has the chance to? To give you the dignity of choosing your own death?

“Tell me this isn’t my signet,” you say, a whisper on the wind, and you hear shuffling behind you. When you turn, Shocair’s head is lowered, her eyes lidded as the first tear falls. She blinks slowly, and it’s like an apology as she touches the tip of her nose to the center of your chest.

“Tell me I’m not an inntinnsic,” you plead, as if you could ask the gods themselves to change it.

Shocair says nothing, just nuzzles against your chest.

“I survived,” you say. It comes out a sob. “I survived the rebellion. I survived my father, and fleeing to the other side of the province. I survived parapet, and the Gauntlet, and Threshing, and every challenge I’ve been faced with—all of it. I have survived, and my own mind is going to be what kills me?”

“I will protect you.”

“You can’t protect me from the law!” You’re crying in earnest now, and you’re pretty sure this sort of weakness is what would prompt another dragon to kill their rider, but Shocair is looking at you with her own mix of worry and rage—and something akin to an apology. “They’ll find out! And if they don’t, what am I supposed to do? Pretend like I never developed a signet, and it just never affects me?”

She blinks, and shifts until your palm lays flat against her nose, like she had at Threshing. When she’d chosen you.

“I chose you for your mind,” she says, repeating those words—the ones from that day.

You sink to your knees, tears streaming down your face. Shocair settles into the grass in front of you, and you bend until your temple is touching her nose. Sobs wrack your body, and you can’t breathe, but it doesn’t matter. The world had stopped spinning, anyway.

This was it. This was the end. There was no surviving this.

[r0nnn13]

Prayer

[myokk]

She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.

Oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.

"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."

That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.

from my oneshot💘

[bleue-flora]

Ok, I recently wrote an essay [here] talking about the definition and duties of civil engineering as well as the ethics because of the brain rot @swordfright gave me with calling Dream Sam’s ultimate engineering project. So, because I actually am a civil engineer I took it upon myself to design the title and summary of quantities sheets just like I do at work for roads but with Dream as the project instead. And in honor of angst day sponsored by @sixteenth-day-event, I figured I’d share it because I feel like it kinda works for the prison of the mind prompt.

“Sam’s “ultimate engineering project” he deemed too damaged like a bumpy road or crumbling building that wasn’t worthy of patching and filling in the cracks or reinforcing, that’s too eroded to be fixed and preserved. So, Sam strived to tear him down to the bedrock so he could remake, remold, and reengineer Dream according to his design for the common safety, public health and well-fair.”

{These are very similar to the actual sheets I make day to day, which I shall not share for the sake of doxing my location, but yea pretty much everything has a significance. Some of it doesn’t necessarily make sense but that was because I was more so taking inventory of what we see in lore (so you know I counted ;) lol)}

[eggwishing]

doing very important things right now that take very high priority

[lavsnz]

i’ve recently been made aware that some people start sneezing when it’s cold & i can’t get that thought out of my head so please enjoy this late night scenario i’ve been thinking about all day

girlfriends on a winter walk, maybe in the downtown of a city going shopping, & it’s snowing outside. one of them always sneezes when she’s cold, it’s a tell tale sign. her girlfriend always has a pack of tissues in her coat or purse for this reason. as they’re walking, the sneezy girlfriend starts sneezing, & at some point her girlfriend pulls them into a coffee shop despite them having eaten a bit early. when the sneezy girlfriend asks why, her girlfriend explains that she must be cold because she’s sneezing so much. they order warm drinks & go to a quiet area so the sneezy girlfriend can sneeze without worrying anyone or making others think she’s sick

when they get home sneezy girlfriend is ushered to the bedroom & convinced to change into sweats by her girlfriend. they crawl into bed & her girlfriend grabs the box of tissues she keeps on her nightstand so that sneezy girlfriend can sneeze all she needs & will be able to wipe & blow her nose

some possible quotes that could go along with this:

• “we’re here [coffee shop] to give your nose a break”

• “get those cold sneezes out”

• “you’re sneezing a whole bunch, you must be cold” (said if sneezy girlfriend tries to argue that she’s fine)

[dekusleftsock]

HMMNGGGSHSHHSHD IM SO LATE TO THIS BUT THERES SO MANY THINGS IVE WANTED TO SAY FOR SO LONG AND IVE JUST BEEN TOO DEPRESSED OR BUSY TO DO IT

I did just re-read the chapter, hazbin/helluva hyperfixation is gone y’all I’m back and ready for more.

Okay so, a couple of things I noticed. Let’s start there.

Throughout this chapter, it really is heartbreaking to see how Izuku regards one for all as Allmight’s power, and therefore a disrespect to him to give that away. Which is quite frankly insane given the nature of what the power is, but regardless it still shows me just how deeply he still cares for and admires allmight.

It also makes the transfer Izuku makes to Katsuki in the heroes rising movie all the more intimate; izuku wouldn’t just give the power to anyone, if not for himself (which is also clearly due to that fact since he still sees ofa as the thing that makes him a hero, not his characteristics), then simply out of respect for allmight and his legacy.

It’s just the anger you can see, feel in those words as he demands to know why. I’ve personally been in the boat of “Izuku dislikes Kudou immensely bc he hasn’t proven to be heroic and amazing like Katsuki has, and also he insults him a lot why would he like him”, since Izuku does genuinely have self respect (a common mischaracterization imo), he’s just also more forgiving and faithful to those he admires or loves (or both).

SPEAKING OF SELF RESPECT AND MISCHARACTERIZATION!

I want to highlight the words “But even so, this boy refuses to throw in the towel”, bc it’s such an important part of Izuku and his character.

He isn’t overly self sacrificial, he isn’t a masochist, he isn’t even a martyr—especially not a martyr.

Izuku is stubborn. That is not the same thing as wanting to constantly die for others; izuku is like Katsuki, he wants to fight for others. Giving up just simply isn’t in his morality.

And if “giving up” also includes letting someone die or failing to save someone out of his own negligence, that’s not because he wants to die.

I can’t explain how much the interpretation that Izuku wanting to die, even for others, is so fucking out of character. Izuku is stubborn, he’s stubborn in the way that he won’t just fall over and let the ground take him. Given the circumstances, Izuku would fight for his life just as he would fight for another.

THIS HAS BEEN THE CASE SINCE, I DONT KNOW, CHAPTER FUCKING ONE?

“Idiot! If I’d really jumped, you’d be charged with bullying me into suicide!! Think before you speak!!”

“Idiot…”

Like he’s so unaffected by the awful comment outside of being angry at the DISRESPECT of said comment. This is why all those damn suicidal Izuku fics have always felt so ooc. Izuku isnt a moody, brooding ball of depression, he’s a stubborn, courageous, and angry ball of depression. There is a difference.

Even before this, he literally attempts to say something or fight back to Katsuki, honestly it looks like he’s about to punch him here.

The only reason he DOESNT is bc HE DOESNT WANT TO GET HIS ASS BEAT

Btw for anyone who has or ever will be in Izuku’s position, punch him. I love Katsuki But hit him in the fucking gut. If you get your ass beat at least you can say you can took it like a champ.

Speaking from someone who regrets not punching three girls who were trying to gang up on me in middle school🫶🫶🫶

Anyway, I’d argue that Izuku not taking Katsuki in a fight was made out of self preservation, something he very much has.

And last but not least, we get to this lovely fucking page.

First of all…

Hm, ain’t that strange?

I’m not saying it’s fully a parallel, I’m just saying it’s something to consider.

Especially with the context that I don’t think Izuku feels shameful here.

He’s been a hero who didn’t look like one once before, I’m sure a snide comment through Shigaraki is nothing in comparison to the literal hundreds of civilians afraid of him.

Or, even more interestingly, what if he’s shameful of it, and okay with that? Now THATS some control over your emotions. This is demonstrating the very thing Banjo told him in the first place; using his emotions to fuel him. Let himself live with them, breath with them. They exist, and they hurt, and that’s fucking okay.

But it begs the question…. Why bring attention to it?

Clearly horikoshi WANTS you to see that Izuku is the one who looks like the monster now. He even looks devil like, blackwhip coming out of his back the way it is just feels like wings.

But maybe… maybe this is how he stops sweeping problems under the rug. Maybe this is him, Izuku, at his most animalistic form. Him. At his core. This is the Izuku he doesn’t want people to know.

The faceless, long clawed, oozing black monster.

He’s a kid who can take a fucking beating. He’s not Deku the useless doll, nor is he Deku the hero. He’s simply Izuku.

And you know what’s even more likely?

The black pit of anger that Shigaraki has formed, fueling his uncontrolled emotions and anger and despair, with the light tear showing something underneath…

What if, this was Izuku’s black ball of anger and shame, except this one is escaping his body, pouring out and showing all of that for what it truly is. Pent up rage, uncontrolled emotion, anxiety and shame, all mixed into one hell hole of a person—but a ball that can be molded, controlled, torn apart from the inside out.

See, the same way Kudou tears at Shigaraki’s mental breaking to see what’s underneath, so have the ofa users for Izuku. Slowly, but surely, the people in Izuku’s life have, while created that ball in the first place, also worked to destroy it. The final piece of the puzzle is for Izuku to choose to let it happen, and he is.

Learning to sit in one’s fear, doubt, hatred, anger, sadness, grief, happiness—without that emotion having to be something, simply something that flows through you, that you can choose to act on or not; this is where Izuku’s arc is coming to its tipping point. We are nearing the climax, I can feel it.

[ninyard]

hello I would like the kevallison smut ?? Please

The promised kevallison headcanons (aka how the two of them figure out what the other person is into + how they might go about doing it)

When they start hooking up it’s all pretty standard stuff. Allison gets him off after a game. Kevin eats her out if there’s ten minutes free in between classes and an empty dorm room. They’re a booty call before, during or after a night out, or a no-strings-attached way to get some frustration off their chest. Their friends-with-benefits situation is more often than not just a quick fuck when they’re bored. But it's kind of just… that? It's just fucking. It's a handful of different positions, in a handful of different places, but nothing more than fucking, finishing, and leaving. They don’t feel a need to bring it any further though, in some ways hesitant that the other will catch feelings if it gets too intimate. But from the get-go their agreement is clear - if either starts to get attached, or jealous, or even thinks that it might be worth pursuing, they stop. It doesn’t happen, of course, but in the beginning they really try to err on the side of caution until they know that for certain.

There’s one of two ways that their casual hook ups becomes more... interesting every now and again: one) accidentally. two) intentionally.

If it is accidental, I think they stumble upon the other’s kinks by the Grace of God. It's a quick fuck that turns into something more because one of them picks up on how the other's demeanor changes and they realise oh. oh. That did something for them. The moment when it happens is so intoxicating and sexually charged; So intense at the realisation of how turned on the other person is, that they’re just waiting for someone in the dorm room over, or outside the bathroom at a party, or in the almost-empty parking lot to ask did anyone hear Allison and Kevin fucking last night? For either of them, single and used to quick fucks with strangers that don't mean anything nor have the longevity for experimenting with, getting to dip into their fantasies is unparalleled pleasure.

If it’s accidental, it’s a pleasant surprise for them both, and Kevin and Allison have that in common - they are both incredibly, heavily turned on by their fuck-buddies feeling satisfied. It happens, where sometimes Kevin just wants to be blown without returning the gesture, or where Allison wants to come without having to put in the effort it takes to give back. More often than not, though, whether it be with each other or with other people, they're most satisfied when the other person is satisfied, too. So when the topic of kinks and turn ons is broached, or accidentally revealed, it doesn't matter that it's Kevin, or that it's Allison. When they've been fucking for long enough that they find themselves discovering these things, they're comfortable enough with each other to not feel embarrassed about what happens when they have sex. If it makes her wet, and it keeps him hard, then it doesn't matter. They don't talk about their sex lives outside of when or where it happens - a kink or two isn't going to change that.

For Kevin, sweet submissive baby boy who just lives to be praised - oh, when Allison finds out, it opens this door for changing their dynamics that she hadn't even realised existed. Kevin gets so turned on that he practically melts, and Allison eats it up like it's the hottest thing she's ever laid eyes on.

They've found themselves standing up against a wall in a bathroom at a party somewhere, too many suggestive looks across the room leading to a desperately desired handjob or two, and Kevin is fumbling with the buckle of his belt. He struggles with it for a second, before pulling the black leather out from it's square frame and Allison offhandedly says good job with a laugh as she trails kisses up his neck and her fingers down his stomach. She feels his reaction to her words before she notices how his eyes glaze over with the thoughts in his head; how he stills at her words, how he's yearning through his sigh when she follows with a knowing whisper of oh, you want me to tell you how good you're being?

Him in her hand, the long acrylic nails of her free hand dragging lines down his neck, Allison feels how needy he is and softly purrs in his ear to tell her how much he wants it. It's not lost on him how she plays with him like putty between her tender fingers, but still he looks into her eyes with his eyebrows knitted into each other, too close to argue; The please that escapes his lips trapped in between a gasp and a moan is rebutted with her sultry say it again. I want to hear that pretty voice beg. It takes the stalling of the rhythm in her working hand before he finds the ability to whimper out his desperate please, please, please. She's using her free hand to hold his face still, their eyes locked together, while he can barely keep himself in one piece. Her thumb is soft over his lips, brushing over little gasps and short breaths, holding him while she whispers a question and he falls apart in her hands.

If Kevin loves to be topped by strong women, Allison loves to hear a man moan. And she’s never heard him like this before, his lips drawn apart just inches from hers, one hand steadying himself against the wall and the other tugging and pawing at the skin of the small of her back. She doesn't let him look away as she guides him to climax with her soft words of gentle praise. How pretty he looks when he's trying his hardest to be quiet, how well he's doing at keeping himself composed.

Allsion doesn't care that she's accidentally unlocked this submissive side of Kevin; firstly, he's hot as hell when he's this desperate, and it's not as if she's going to be leaving that bathroom and calling him a good boy on the court, because that's not how this works. She's fucked him angry and she's fucked him needy - the passion of fulfilled fantasy only working on a different level to anything else.

(When he's caught his breath and started to clean himself up, she washes her hands and admires her work; his rosy cheeks burning up as she watches him in the mirror. She pushes herself up onto the vanity, and when he can finally bare to look at her again, she says I'm proud of you with a playful smile. Kevin covers his face to laugh in semi-embarrassment, his head shaking as he finds himself in between her legs. They don't talk about it too much before he returns the favour.)

Then there's, Allison, sweet Allison, who's interests work in harmony like a perfect composed song. We knows she loves to hear the men she sleeps with, but there's two things that really get her going that more often than not go hand in hand - rough sex, and loud sex. Living in dorms, it's hard to indulge, especially the second, but usually she'll just pull him close, with his lips to her ear or hers to his. Allison gets off on hearing the person she's fucking, and Kevin is not an exception to that.

They've somehow had a stroke of luck - an empty house in Columbia and some time to kill. Kevin is on the edge of the bed, and Allison is facing Kevin while sitting on his lap, her knees resting on either side of him, in a skirt that is already so short that it's barely even there. They're making out, and Kevin isn't really thinking, but he slaps her ass - something he'd done once or twice before, but never that hard, never that loud. Allison sits back, hands on his shoulders with her mouth open wide. She doesn't get the chance to finish her questioning what are you doing? Before his mischievous smile curls around, what, this? as he laughs and does it again. When she stands up off of him in a half-protest, shaking her finger at how close he was getting to really getting her going, he follows her up. He stands in front of her with feigned apologies for his boldness. She leans into his kiss, with arms wrapped tight around her waist, but instead of pouting his lips, he picks her up and throws her back onto the bed while she scream-laughs.

Body over body, on top of her then, a hand finds it's way in between strands of shiny blonde. A hand that she takes into hers, guiding his fist to grasp a handful of her hair. When he doesn't hold it hard enough she tugs it gently, keeping his fist closed with her hand around it. Looking down at her, he purses his lips with an oh that pauses his other hand while it pushes up her skirt to touch her over her panties. Reading him while waiting for the laugh that never comes is agonisingly long, as she braces herself for the mortifying conversation that he was not going to be entertaining it. Instead he waits for her hand to trail away before pulling her head, hard, back into the bed. And when she shuts her eyes and parts her lips in pleasure, he is quick to bring his hand up to her chin, tilting her head back. The two smallest of his fingers fingers tuck themselves neatly behind her ear, the other two tight between her jawline and her cheekbone. The ball of his thumb is resting on her chin. She doesn't stop him when his thumb trails down from her cupid's bow and into her mouth. She doesn't stop him when he takes it out hold it around her throat, either. Kevin is careful to scatter wet bruises down her chest where they won't be seen. When he's standing back to take off his pants and she’s lifting her top over her head, he asks, you want it hard? and she responds do you even fucking have to ask?

Her skirt is up over her hips and her thong down her thighs. He’s on his knees with her legs over his thighs, maybe he’s pinning her hands down above her head with one big hand over her little wrists. Headboard banging, unrestrained volume, handprints on ass cheeks and scratches across spines. Allison gets sex-drunk when he manhandles her. It’s sloppy, it’s messy, it’s loud, it’s so hot that it’s on fire. It’s eye-rolling, being in a daze afterwards type of fucking. It’s mascara running down cheeks, how the fuck am I supposed to look anyone in the eye after having that done to me type of fucking. It’s needing to have a shower immediately afterwards type of sweaty, messy fucking.

(It’s probably one of the only times they almost/kind of get caught. Not because of the noise, or the sex itself but because of the aftermath. Andrew and Neil clock INSTANTLY the missing and changed details when they regroup - how Kevin’s hair is freshly washed, how Allison has taken her heavy makeup off leaving only a fresh coat of mascara and some lipgloss remaining. How they can barely look at each other in case it reminds them of what has just happened. Their puffy lips, their general daze. Yeah, they fly a little too close to the sun that time - not enough time afterwards to recuperate from an absolutely dirty, filthy, fucking.)

If it's an intentional thing, a discussion about what they're into, and they know before getting into it/it's a conscious choice/it's intentional/some sort of discussion/WHATEVER? There's a few ways I could potentially see it possibly coming up.

A game of Never Have I Ever or some other drinking game with the group and the discussions of kinks come up; Kevin drinks when somebody mentions a praise kink, or being dominated. Allison drinks when somebody mentions liking it rough. Their looks to each other are quick but knowing, Kevin's raised eyebrows when Allison drinks to say she doesn't mind being degraded, the flick of her eyes when he drinks to say he doesn't mind begging for it.

They don't hang around after hooking up, usually. Clean up, get dressed, and leave. That's the routine. But they're talking afterwards for a little while, and the subject of fantasies comes up, and while shes fixing her makeup and tying up her hair she asks him what's the one thing he'd go crazy for. he considers it for a little bit but then gets embarrassed because it's a way harder thing to talk about when you're not actively turned on or drunk. They offer each other tiny pieces as they joke about it, starting tame before they eventually just say it out straight. (she calls him princess when she's leaving and he calls her a slut before she shuts the door.)

They ask each other outright. Kinda similar to accidentally figuring it out but they ask each other for it instead of the other person just doing something and stumbling upon it. Maybe Kevin asks her to tell him how good he feels and she asks why, are you into that? and they like. talk through it . Do you like it when I ask you this? Can I call you this? Do you like it when I tell you you're doing such a good job? Talking through sex can be so hot and even hearing the questions out loud sets the imagination off on a fucking marathon. Maybe Allison asks can you choke me? and he asks her how she likes it before agreeing. Do you like it when I hold you like this? Do you want me to spit in your mouth? Do you want to shut the fuck up and listen to what you do to me? It's a much more thorough discussion than them simply going oh, i think the other person has [blank] kink, so i'm just gonna go ahead and do that. It's a request, instead. Both of them knowing what they want and knowing how to ask for it? Yeaaaahhhh

[fawcetttweets]

I had a dream and the only part that stuck with me is that someone posted a poll on here asking “what did Fawcetttweets do to you?”. there were five options and each one had exactly 49 votes. The only ones I remember are “killed and ate my dog” “chewed on my dog” and “stole what my second smallest left toe produced”

My initial reaction was a strange mix of disgust at the questions, especially the last one, and a warm fuzzy feeling that someone liked me enough to make a poll about me.

So. What did Fawcetttweets do to you?

[quietlyblooms]

alright, friends, it's time for a lil heart-to-heart.

for quite a while now, i've struggled with feeling like the rpc is an actual community. there's a few things that contribute to this feeling, but it mostly comes down to a lack of interaction and visible interest. sometimes i feel very one-sided in my interest and attachment to my mutuals bc when i see their ooc posts or headcanons, i like them or comment, yet this isn't reciprocated by everyone. i can usually guess who i'm about to see in my notifications, and to be absolutely clear, i'm very grateful for those people!! it's a handful or two of you, but it could be just one and i'd be grateful. it's not about numbers whatsoever but rather growing uncomfortable that not all of my mutuals are all that interested in my character or me.

i write on here to share the excitement of creating with other people. i write on here to create together, too, but i'm also here to share characters and ideas and lore with people i know are happy to hear me ramble. i'm just getting to the point in which i'm questioning how many of you are actually happy to listen, and that's just not a good feeling at all. i'm not a mind reader, y'all. if you don't tell or show me that you care about the things i talk about or even about interacting, there's no way for me to know. eventually, i'm going to question why you're following me if i never see or hear from you, and eventually, i'm going to softblock and move on. that's the only way forward i see right now because i just do not feel comfortable on my own blog. i feel like i'm retreating into this quiet bubble to avoid discomfort, and it really sucks. it's killing my muse.

i'm not perfect. none of us are, and we can't be online at all times to catch every little post. but if we're a community, then we should be supporting each other when we can and liking headcanons, liking/commenting on those lil ooc posts that remind us our writing partners are humans with lives outside this site, reblogging their promo posts, sending in that meme they've reblogged even if we're nervous to reach out first -- if we're a roleplaying community, then we need to act like it. " community " implies connection, and a connection doesn't really begin when you follow each other. it begins when you reach out, even if it's in some small way.

tldr: i think we can all do better to support our mutuals and to connect, and i'm going to softblock people rather than continue to feel unsure where i stand with my mutuals. i won't start until sometime next week, and i won't make one of those " like this to remain mutuals " posts. they're not helpful to me, if i'm honest. if you're worried, just reach out. i'm literally a 4'9'' gremlin who sleeps with a m.unchlax plushie -- i promise i'm not scary despite this post uvu

[tapenbreak]

force breeding dan heng, force breeding dan heng, force breeding dang. . . hnnnnghhhh, trusting you so dearly to take care of his various heat cycles that annoyingly persist in a timely manner during every month—quitting the scent dampeners and the gruelling gesture of having to endure through those when he has you within arms reach. repeatedly telling you not to cum inside, yet you still do anyway despite feeble protests between hagard gasps, muttering on about how it wouldn’t be the same if you were to leave his pretty, little cunt empty. cuz’ you’re not mean like that, are you? no, you’re offering him something he couldn’t ask anyone else of abord the astral express, so it’s only natural you get to reap the final end, spurt his clenching insides white with your seed. plus he likes it even if he won’t admit, you can tell by the quivering of his helpless—cum-filled hole. force breeding dan heng, force breed—