#YOU CRY ABOUT HIS TALENT AND HIS EXISTENCE EVERY OTHER DAY. YOU'VE STARED AT PICTURES OF HIM AND FALLEN INTO

[thunderheadfred]

💥Bakugou HC's💥

Aged-up pro hero Katsuki for all of these. Some NSFW beneath the cut. Minors do not interact.

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General

He’s scary good at everything he tries. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing. It’s infuriating. Has zero patience when other people can’t immediately master a skill. Never let him teach you anything. Not that he’d offer, nerd.

He WILL offer, though. A lot. He can’t believe you still can’t Do That Thing. Tsh. Like THIS. You're gonna hurt yourself, Dummy.

But hold on. Of course you have unique skills of your own. You work hard to improve yourself. Trust me, he's the first person to notice. He doesn't praise anyone lightly, so when he raises his eyebrows and whispers he's impressed, your heart will go thermonuclear.

Perfect spelling and fully punctuated texts. Never uses abbreviations. Employs a grand total of four emojis, all of them angry faces. Constantly leaves you on read. He's busy, dammit.

Doesn’t smile or laugh in public (except sarcastically). His real smile is a crooked, fragile thing. Never make him feel self-conscious about it, or you might not see it again for weeks.

He does not talk about his private life to the press. Ever. Will K.O. rookie reporters who can't keep their big mouths shut.

HOweVER: he's intensely kind to his fans. There is a whole photographic sub-genre of little girls in cosplay hugging Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight like he's a Disney Princess.

Too smart for his own good. Emotionally hyper-vigilant. Overthinks every interaction to hell and back. Will act like he's not listening but actually hears every single word in a ten-block radius.

INSECURE AF. 110% convinced he will never be good enough. Terrified of his loved ones leaving him behind. Does he do anything to assuage his fears? Like... talk to anyone about it? Hell no. That would require admitting he has fears to begin with.

Seeing people upset makes him upset, especially if he doesn't know how to fix it.

The epitome of being mean because he cares. He genuinely does not seem to comprehend that monosyllabic grunts and lopsided shrugs are not actually that comforting.

Because he was such a brat growing up, he wants to make up for it now. Sort of. In his own way. Look, he's trying, okay?

He smells - so - good. Obscenely good. He doesn't wear cologne; are you joking? There's the burnt-sugar caramel candy smell of his quirk, for starters. And since he sweats deadly ammunition, he showers and wipes himself down almost constantly. He always smells clean. Like a fucking meadow.

Never got that growth spurt he was hoping for. He’s a short man - not even THAT short - but he has a Napoleon complex anyway. If you’re taller than him, the collars of your shirts will all be stretched out. He’s constantly dragging you down to his level. He will assert himself all the fucking time; the pissing contest is never-ending. Don’t wear tall shoes unless you want him to drag you around on a leash. If you’re shorter than him, that’s good. That’s very good. He likes that.

He’s an incredible cook, but everything he makes is a nuclear fire challenge. Adapt or starve.

- - - - -

Dating

Makes artisanal, nutritionally flawless bento lunches for both of you. When people assume his S.O. makes them, he gets fucking pissed. Damn right your co-workers are jealous of my cooking.

Your pet name is Dummy. Don’t like it? Fine. You can be dumbass.

There will be zero PDA in this relationship. His hands are shoved so deep in his pockets you can’t even try.

Intensely private with the press. But with his friends, he will brag about you nonstop. Bakugou Katsuki has the most talented and attractive and intelligent S.O., and anyone who doesn't recognize that is blind. Were you assholes even listening?

A mutual buddy definitely recorded one of these drunken brag-rants and sent it to you for safekeeping. Do not let Katsuki find out about it, unless you enjoy having an ash pile for a phone.

Gets jealous about everything, at least at the start. He calms down eventually. Kinda. He stops saying shit to you about it, anyway, because he learns to trust you. But anyone who so much as looks at you in a too-friendly manner will get the death stare of a lifetime.

He’ll throw all kinds of temper tantrums and the two of you will argue about every tiny fucking thing. He’ll scream out car windows, he’ll ball up his shirt and gnash on it. But he will never raise his voice at you. He’d rather die than make you feel unsafe.

Honestly, the constant bickering is really just... uhh... passionate communication. Eventually you both hash out the important things. You'll learn how to step around his landmines and actually make your points, and he'll learn to open up. A little.

Once you meet his mom, Katsuki starts to make a lot more sense. His family just... emotes like that. Eventually, you and his dad form a spousal support group consisting of exactly two lifetime members. He teaches you the Bakugou family semaphore you need to survive a long-term relationship.

Katsuki can dish it out but absolutely cannot take it. The only person who can level with him about serious issues without explosive fallout is his dad. Or, on a lucky day, Kirishima.

If you give him a legitimate criticism (even gently!) he will take it about as gracefully as a knife to the gut, because it confirms everything he hates about himself.

To your never-ending shock, you’ve made him cry. Yes, CRY! You monster! More than once! His lip gets all *trembly* and his eyes get all *watery* and all you want to do is hug him, but. No. He’ll storm out and wander around for a few hours before coming back with the problem perfectly solved.

He always takes your advice to heart. No, he will NOT talk about it, stop asking.

Gets mad if you don’t snuggle him on the regular. Will drag you into his lap with a pissy little grunt. There might be two seats on this couch but you will not be needing both of them.

Takes pictures of you while you sleep.

Takes even more pictures of you when you're awake but think he's out of the room.

He looks at all these pictures when he's away on high-stakes jobs. He gets all bleary eyed and sleeps in a salty puddle without you. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.

You don’t have to meet him at the door or anything, but when he says “I’m home,” you’d better answer fast. If he doesn’t know your precise location in 0.05 seconds, he will assume you’ve been kidnapped. He never checks the fridge for notes. Never assumes you've gone down to the konbini for a snack. No, it’s kidnapping every time.

A terrrrrrible bed partner. He goes to bed at senior citizen hours and will never fuck you after sundown. He snores SO loud. Runs hot and sweats through the sheets. Slaps and elbows you in his sleep and aggressively spoons you with his loud, sweaty body. You WILL want to suffocate him. Separate bedrooms aren’t such a horrible idea......

BUT HANG ON, because in the morning he transforms into an honest-to-god angel. He's half awake, his guard is non-existent. Morning Katsuki is a doting kissy-faced marshmallow man.

If you can wake up before the ass-crack of dawn, he will pamper the fuck out of you. You are royalty for one (1) hour only, and he is your bleary-eyed slave. You want a cuddlefuck? You got it. Hugs? Kisses? Take as many as you need. You want a perfect, fluffy, NON-SPICY omelette with a heart drawn in ketchup? Here it is, gorgeous.

Then he gets in the shower and the spell is broken.

- - - - -

💥bang BANG💥

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: this here is an ASS. MAN. He'll spank you with his quirk; doesn’t matter if you’ve been good or bad. Wants to see you wince when you sit down later.

Likes pounding you face down with a vice grip on your waist.

Unfortunately, even with all that said... he doesn't exactly have the feral beast sex drive you were expecting. He’s married to his work and has the fuddy-duddy habits of a once and future valedictorian. Only fucks you when he has the time and energy to fully dedicate himself to it.

But ohhhh. Shit. When it's time? It's TIME. The man will rush for nothing. Stamina for days. Making you cum as many times as possible is a point of pride. Yeah, you passed out once.

You’re gonna need those days off when he’s done with you.

That dick THICC.

Sends unsolicited dick pics. Only after you’ve been dating a good long while - he doesn't show that shit to just anyone. But yeah, don’t check your phone at work. He won't cum without you; those pictures and videos are time bombs. You better get home. Now.

Physically dominant as FUCK, but won’t verbally degrade you unless you ask. Well, let’s be honest. Unless you beg.

Praise him and reap the rewards. A long hard ego stroking will get him off more than touching his cock ever will.

Will grab your hair and fuck your throat. Will also stop immediately if you need him to.

The two of you have safe words and gestures. Even for vanilla stuff. He’s paranoid about scaring or hurting you. He insisted you both sign a color-coded ‘love contract’ that he meticulously formatted in a word processor. When you gave him guff about it, his blush was the darkest crimson you’d ever seen.

Coin-flip: he will sometimes be unbelievably gentle in bed. Doting and affectionate, taking perfect care of you. Like, it’s baffling. There’s no warning, the switch just flips. When you want him to be extra-rough and mean, he’ll sweetly worship you instead. For hours.

Bonus: he likes being penetrated. But of course he’s got a complex about that too. Super intense power bottom. You will never fuck him hard enough. He’d like to see you try. Hit his prostate just right and he might literally explode.

You'll live happily ever after but he will say he loves you out loud exactly once. Maybe. If you're lucky. And you're both about to die.

[peachcitt]

no one asked but im avoiding writing so im gonna tell you the tale of this terrible, awful dream and that’s just how it’s gonna be

the dream starts like this: 

it’s night, im in a forest. im running - not literally, just figuratively - because ive committed a crime. i broke a law, and it was an important one, but it was also one that shouldn’t exist. i broke it because i had to, because it was the right thing to do. and now im fairly certain im going to die for it.

except. someone finds me. they catch hold of my shoulders, and they know me and i know them, and their eyes are wide. they tell me the authorities chasing me had stopped. they tell me the authorities chasing me had captured someone else in my stead. someone innocent. they tell me a name, an identity. olen. he makes music. he’s innocent.

my mind races. here, right in front of me, is a chance to escape the punishment i know will kill me. i won’t have to run anymore, i can live my life at peace. but. my mind catches.

i don’t know this man they’ve captured in my stead. ive never heard of him before. but i can’t let him die because of me - because, surely, that would happen. he would die if i did nothing. he would be punished for a crime he knew nothing about. he didn’t deserve to die.

so i decide to rescue him. he had been taken to the headquarters of the authorities, and going on this mission to save him would surely damn me again. but that didn’t matter as much as it had when it was only my life on the line; i was rescuing him, and it didn’t matter what happened to me as long as he walked free.

we get into the building fine, but once inside we see that all the lights are lit down each and every hallway. there are guards stationed about, disguised as custodians, but i recognize them for what they are. we slip past the guards, down to the lower levels of the building.

the group i brought with me splits up, looking for the place where the innocent man was being held, and i tell my companions to be careful, to stay out of sight from the guards. i walk alone, footsteps quiet, down one of the brightly lit hallways, gold light cold, and i find the cell.

it’s a strange sort of cell - embedded into the wall of the hallway with glass walls looking in to an bland, gray room. and inside that gray room is a man. my breath caught in my throat as i made eye contact with him - olen.

i had never seen him before in my life. but i felt, strangely, as if i knew him. it almost seemed like he was thinking the same thing.

i walked closer to him, pressing my hand to the glass between us. i couldn’t see a way to get him out, and i wasn’t strong enough to break the glass on my own. i saw him swallow his hope like it was something ugly. he pressed his palm to the glass, right up against mine.

down the hallway, a voice called out. i hadn’t been paying attention - one of the guards had seen me. was running towards me.

i whipped my head back to olen, pushing my hand into the glass like then i might be able to touch him. he was shaking his head, dark eyes wide.

my companions were calling out to me, urging me to run to them, to run away from him.

“hold on,” i begged, and i think i was talking to him as much as i was to my companions. he couldn’t hear me. he still understood me.

more guards were rushing down the hallway toward me. i was running out of time. we both knew it.

“i’ll come back,” i shouted into the glass, knowing he couldn’t hear. “i’ll come back for you, and i’ll set you free.” his face was sad, hopeless. but his palm was still across from mine, and i stared into his dark eyes, and i said “i swear it.”

and then i ran.

and i led my companions up the stairs, but the guards were nearly on top of us now, pulling at our legs, our hair, our skin. by the time i reached the top of the stairs, i was on the ground, hands pulling at me hard, pain tearing through my body. but i refused to give up, tearing open the door to the stairwell.

i was going to get out of here, and i was going to fulfill my promise.

except.

except there, in the doorway of the door i’d just flung open, was the woman in charge. the woman who had called for my arrest. she stood above me, shadows over her face, and she smiled.

the guards behind me grabbed tight to my ankles, and they pulled.

and that was the dream.

sounds very serious and heart wrenching right? so why i did i say it was so silly?

because the woman in charge that had issued my arrest was usurna from trollhunters. the innocent man who’d been captured in my stead was the lead singer of my favorite band. and those two facts put together negate the entirely serious feelings of the dream and make it all so terribly, heart wrenchingly silly

don’t mind me just thinking about the heart wrenching dream i had about a year ago that had no business being so heart wrenching