#and who ~deserves~ certain things lmfao

[3416]

thank you for sharing the positives to being a leafs fan because it gets exhausting watching the entirety of the hockey world stomp over a team that is dealt with the shorter end of the stick. your content makes me still hold onto faith for a team that isn’t loved.

my question is: do you believe that the leafs hate he justified as much especially in comparison to other teams in the league?

the thing about the leafs is that they have one of the biggest and widest reaching fanbases in the sport (if you go to any games on the road, you'll immediately know what i'm talking about... every arenas like half full of em), but it feels sort of like a love them or hate them in the nhl itself bc of the amount of rivalries and history. that's not even taking into account their surface meme-ability in modern day for being unable to get deep into the playoffs. at least we no longer have to hear a deluge of first round jokes tbh.

i honestly don't think anyone holds as much contempt for the leafs as much as a certain section of their own fanbase so i've never viewed it as a leafs vs everyone else thing, though it definitely is that too lol. i ALSO hate a portion of this fanbase more than i hate any other team or its fans tbh bc of the way they talk about their own damn players. might as well cease to call yourself a fan at a certain point imo regardless of the fact that you grew up with the team or whatever. i don't actually think the leafs are like. targeted or everyone hates them the most (all original 6 teams take a fair bit of heat tbh), but their fans online are the reason a lot of like goofy polls and stuff always read as the leafs being the most annoying/biased/delusional group. it's hard to disagree in some ways. i guess i don't put myself in a position to see a lot of leafs hate in general? i don't follow people who hate them or interact with people who hate them beyond finding ppl in this fanbase who have such nasty things to say, lol, so that colors my perception but. for as much hate as you might see, the leafs are definitely one of if not the most loved team too. center of the hockey world, it's true it's true. you gotta take the hate with the love, but i also think a big part of hockey/sport culture is just chirping and insults in general so fkljdsl. being able to parse what's actual hate and just jokes is also important.

[clownprince]

idk maybe i'm just mad people dislike my Special Little Guy but like... the way that jarley shaped cultural perceptions of joker as a character (read: established the idea of him as a domestic abuser (of his female partner) furthering the associations with gendered violence/general misogyny that were (primarily) started by tkj/tdkr) feels homophobic in a way that's difficult to articulate

[sprytesukii]

you know me (better than i know myself)

bakugou katsuki x reader

katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.

rating: mature, 18+, MDNI

wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)

tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T

an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)

read on ao3

the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.

“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”

the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.

“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.

he feels like he might die.

“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”

there it is. fuckin’ kaito.

katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.

part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.

of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.

bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.

he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.

and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.

it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.

perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.

katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.

too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.

but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.

that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.

but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.

he’s moving out.

he’ll be gone forever.

subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.

fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.

“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”

the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.

he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.

katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.

it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.

he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.

fuck.

with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.

“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”

the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.

“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“

katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.

he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.

he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.

he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.

it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.

by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.

kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.

it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.

he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.

nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.

he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.

a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.

(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.

he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.

EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><

katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.

EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you

he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)

the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.

a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.

the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.

it’s sustainable until it isn’t.

a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”

it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.

at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.

most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.

the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.

his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.

it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.

izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.

a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.

when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.

he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.

izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.

“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”

a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.

“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.

with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.

now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.

“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”

katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.

“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.

he never deserved any of it.

with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.

“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).

“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”

maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.

if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.

katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.

izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).

“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.

he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”

the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.

they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.

katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.

the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.

when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.

after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.

—

that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.

he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.

katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.

the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.

he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.

he posts an ad on craigslist that night.

the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.

“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”

the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.

the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.

katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.

something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.

“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.

the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.

“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”

denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”

he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.

the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.

in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.

katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?

ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested

ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td

ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry

ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back

ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while

ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever

katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.

he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.

katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.

you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.

you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.

you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.

it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.

“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.

you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.

“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.

pretty.

“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”

katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.

“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”

you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.

“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.

“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.

what the fuck?

in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”

your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.

the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.

a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.

katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.

suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.

it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.

“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.

your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”

the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.

“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”

your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.

the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.

you agree.

—

the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.

your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.

(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.

“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”

you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)

your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.

(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)

your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.

(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.

“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.

“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”

your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)

the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.

he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.

after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.

you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.

but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.

“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.

“fuck no.”

“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”

and that’s that.

you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.

it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.

occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.

it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.

“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.

“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.

“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”

what the fuck.

katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.

he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.

he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.

katsuki would not dream of stopping you.

—

it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.

(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.

you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.

“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)

katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.

you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.

when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.

katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.

your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.

“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.

the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.

it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.

it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.

he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.

it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.

the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.

fuck.

katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.

he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.

“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”

katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.

(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.

katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.

denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.

“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)

katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.

kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.

“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.

the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”

his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.

at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.

he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.

“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.

“i was in love with you.”

the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.

“wha- bakugou, what?”

“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”

kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.

“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”

katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”

kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.

“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.

katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.

“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”

katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”

kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”

after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?

he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.

“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.

“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”

katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.

“i think i’m in love with them.”

kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.

“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.

“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.

he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.

kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.

katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.

his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.

he’s home.

you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.

katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.

you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.

he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.

you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.

“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”

katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.

you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.

“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.

“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.

a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”

it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.

the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.

katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.

these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.

he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.

he thinks it’s his.

you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.

katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.

“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”

his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”

and that he does.

katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.

the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.

“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.

he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.

or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.

“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.

you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”

katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”

you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”

“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.

he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.

a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.

“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.

your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.

“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.

“nah.”

“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.

“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.

“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.

he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.

you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.

he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.

you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.

“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?

katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.

your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.

“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.

“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.

“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.

if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.

“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.

he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.

of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.

“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.

he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.

his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.

after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.

you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.

“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.

you know, though. you always do.

—

“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.

by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.

“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.

speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.

“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.

you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.

“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.

he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.

“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.

he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”

you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.

katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.

“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”

even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.

he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.

the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.

you already know.

[strwbryien]

｢ ᝰ.ᐟ entry 03: ADDRESSING THE SITUATION⭑.ᐟ ｣

“hey, everyone. this feels... really strange to do on camera, not gonna lie. i’m used to just being a voice behind the screen, but here we are. so, um, i just wanted to address everything that's been going on.”

“i know a lot of you have seen what happened last stream, and i’m sure it was a shock. it definitely wasn’t supposed to go down that way, and i really hope i haven’t let any of you down.”

“streaming has always been something i love, and i hope this doesn’t change how you see me or what we’ve built together. i appreciate all of your support more than you know, and i hope we can keep going strong. thank you for sticking with me through this.”

kayekumi: we love you no matter what! face or no face, you're still the best streamer! ezravish: this doesn’t change anything, we’re here for you always <3 hartz4u: you’re so brave for addressing this head-on, we’re all behind you kumism: you’re beautiful, kumi!! no need to hide! da1suk4e: the real-life kumi is just as amazing as the one we knew! no disappointment at all

"wow... i don’t even know what to say. you guys are seriously the best. i was so nervous about this whole thing, but seeing your reactions just makes me feel so relieved. thank you, really. i don’t deserve you all.”

“it means the world to me that you’re still here, supporting me like this. i was scared i’d lose some of you after everything, but knowing you’ve got my back makes me so happy.”

“i promise i’ll keep doing what i love, and i hope we can keep having fun together—face or no face! you’re all amazing, and i’m so lucky to have you. thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

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synopsis:

IN WHICH—you, although faceless, are a very famous streamer known as KUMI. you were streaming as usual, playing games and interacting with fans. but when you're about to exit the stream, you accidentally pressed the wrong button that led to you opening your cam and showing your whole face to your audience. this wasn't supposed to happen, no ! so you panicked and quickly ended the stream. numerous screenshots circulated on twitter, which broke both the fans and the internet. this reached a certain someone, SCARAMOUCHE, your rival in streaming. when the said boy saw the trending photo, he almost fell off his gaming chair. because—lo and behold! KUMI was actually [name]?! now who is this [name] in his life, if you may ask? she's the girl that scaramouche has been admiring from afar in real life! quite shocking, right? have i told you that he’s also been sending you anonymous love letters? oh well...

notes ᝰ.ᐟ

— i've been gone for so long, i feel so bad ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ — i honestly don't know what i was yapping about in kuni’s letter LMFAO i hope it's at least understandable — ik it's short TT, but i'm currently working on part 4 rn! hopefully, i'll be able to post it soon!

ꪆৎ taglist

(if ur @ is not in bold letters, it means that i can't tag you)

(taglist are unfortunately closed)

@imnotyizhuo @kazufavor @najaemism @simonisferal @lovelypadisarah @eternallykira-143 @yourfavoritefreakyhan @yuminako @035814 @squigglewigglewoo @lxkeeeee @blvdmrcnry @wth121 @lloovvv @3lectraheart @lovemiyae @danhenglovebot @heusalettle @automaticpatroltragedy @kyon-cherri @lalalaloveallmydays @musings-of-miss-j @ilxandra @lazy-sanns @vixialuvs @bananasquash @kochothehoe @lily-lmao @shutingstar @sketcheeee @minhosprettywife @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @kinanahana @featuredtofu @tamikahoshiko @jayzioxx @kleeboomed @saechiro @shyentsmissingink @poemzcheng @rifran @projectsfantasy @yejiswifex @peachystea @vi0let-writes @sicuit @hee-jinn @6blxe @viannasthings @trulyylee

[ctheathy]

Nine w/ Unintelligent yet emotionally clever!Darling

Nine x Reader

General+Fluff Headcanons

Short Concept

Author’s note: hello, my sweeties~! Right off the bat, I want to insanely apologise for taking so long with any of the requests that just so happen to still be in my inventory, motivation has been appearing and dying out a lot lately and it affects the quality of my writing a lot unfortunately. I promise I shall finish them up eventually though<3<3

Literally thought of this dynamic one night and it cracked me up so much, I just had to make a post about it lmfao.

Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Nine being a meanie •

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

You two would likely have quite the bumpy relationship right off the start of your meeting. We all know Nine is rather quick to rage himself and has his little frustration streak to deal with, which shall unfortunately be dumped on you for the time being when you two are in one another’s presence. The fact that you fail to understand basic logic drives him absolutely mad. Don’t get him wrong, he knows he’s on a higher level of intelligence when it comes to the average mobian, but even common sense didn’t seem to get to you. He’d stick around you on purpose just in favour of sassing you and making sure you don’t walk right into danger.

At first he’d always make it very clear to you that he strongly dislikes your lack of intelligence, much as a muffled groan could be heard fromout his side whenever you managed to let out yet another “...huh?” as a sentence on the complexer side found itself into the conversation; which to him, had been basic common sense. He believes you’re absolutely going to be the death of him. Sarcastic remarks are a must and he’s continuously throwing bold comments left and right. ‘Let natural selection take its course’ as he would always say on an average afternoon. Though something you are aware of however, is that he wouldn’t dare to even think of letting you get hurt in the slightest.

As much due to you still being a sweet and caring soul, he’s automatically still going to grow a soft spot for you through one way or another. It’s going to happen over time, but he just needs to grow accustomed to the fact you don’t understand things as easily. He would still let out a small sigh whenever something very logical isn’t understood by you, but this time he’d instead go out of his way to calmly explain the said misunderstanding for your sake. You have to start somewhere, right? And he wouldn’t want anybody but himself to take that position in your life either, not taking no as an answer for certain.

Though the sassy remarks and commentary shall genuinely die down after the realisation sets in that you’re actually trying when gathering the said information. It may be having trouble with memory cases, lacking knowledge on vocabulary, or something else entirely; but he tries his hardest to see things from your perspective, as he suddenly despises himself for the fact that he’s ridiculed you for it during past events. But as you still lack the average knowledge, it’s very much possible he would get ever more overprotective than he would before. Mainly due to him not trusting you to be able to protect yourself under these circumstances.

I would believe your emotional intelligence would come in the picture as soon as he tells you about his past trauma and current distrust with other beings. In all honesty, he just wanted to vent out his emotions a little. But it didn’t take long for him to realise that instead of giving him a confused stare, you went out of your way to comfort him to immense levels, even noticeably making rude remarks towards those who harassed him in the past. You’d explain your personal thinking on the situation and how he absolutely never deserved any of the torment he faced. Now it had been him who was currently giving you a visibly distraught expression, mainly as it actually caught him off guard by how well thought through your wording seemed to be on the spot. Were you even the same person? And this is what would only be the mere start of him completely opening up to you.

I believe this would be the one change that makes all the difference. You have the capability of understanding him and the things he went through. Instead of misinterpreting it, you almost seem to read him like an open book. Making it close to impossible for him to hide his current emotions to you. This new side of you makes him feel guilty in a way, as you’ve been mistaken as unintelligent and foolish by those around you for God knows how long. You weren’t dumb, you just held higher knowledge over the topics that were never spoken about. And to him, that just makes you extra special and mature in your own way

And those who continue to harass you for your quote on quote ‘dense’ demeanour? Well, let’s just say they’ll be the first to find out the actual damage a nine-tailed fox can provoke torwards those who encourage the more ... Hostile thinking in the back of his head. If anything, I can even see him getting defensive when the smallest and most innocent intended comments get thrown your way. I can literally smell Sonic’s harmless remark from a mile away and Nine’s already ready to kill the boy. He would truly put everything aside to ensure that you’re both safe and satisfied, even if this includes having to throw hands for the sake of your defense.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

[gunnrblze]

Mischaracterizations are prevalent in fandoms. I'm curious, which ones of the CoD:Ghosts franchise bug you the most, and make you want to pull out your hair once you see them in fics/other materials?

This question created several additional thoughts, so I’m putting all my yapping below the cut lmfao.

Tbh it doesn’t bother me a whole lot except when it’s a large part of said character, or one of their only canon descriptions/facts/etc. I think it’s great for ppl to create what they want, esp when a lot of the ghosts have little/no info so we quite literally have to make shit up and fill in the likely blanks, but if you’re straying so far from who a character is…😟

Like, Keegan is described and shown throughout the game as being a very quiet man…so it does make me side eye when people portray him as this talkative guy, or someone with a really big personality lol cause that’s just not the vibe. That’s why I rb’d that thing, because I was thinking about how he’s the most popular ghost by far, and I think a lot of those fans aren’t necessarily into the rest of the ghosts game (and they don’t have to be, just an observation). I think that’s why so much of the content made about him outside of the actual ghosts fandom seems out of left field, bc people just kinda take a hot character and do whatever with him (which again, is fine, free will in fandom is good and necessary). I also think that’s why so many people get him confused as being part of other CoD games, because they aren’t aware of where his character even comes from in the first place.

Now this may be a bit of an unpopular opinion bc I know a lot of ppl hate some of the smut aspect that’s written about these characters, because they include themes that are/seem ooc, but I’m gonna be honest…that part doesn’t bother me so much because at the end of the day, people just want to put their fantasies and ideas onto hot masked man…and I get it lmao. Not to say im necessarily gonna read it, esp stuff with hard kink type shit, but it’s more so bothersome when people mischaracterize them because they don’t pay attention to the actual canon character in other fics/materials.

That’s why I kinda separate smut fic from everything else a bit, because a lot of smut I’ve noticed, especially with Keegan specifically, is written ooc, because making it canon/character correct isn’t the point, the sexy time shit is. Now I still prefer reading smut that seems largely in character lol, but I do have to defend the larger idea here that it’s not a crime to write an ooc smut fic because half the time…the smut is the main focus, not the canon/implied personality of the character.

I completely understand the shock of seeing certain smut in the first place (talking about the more fucked up shit here…), especially when it’s then placed on a character you know and love, but it honestly doesn’t bother me that much-and maybe it’s because I’ve been on the internet for too long💀- but that’s kinda the point of fandom I think…doing whatever pleases you, having an outlet. That’s the type of smut I think is very obviously written with the idea in mind, and not necessarily ‘would the character do/behave like this?’. Because yea, these ghost boys would most likely not do all these fucked up things, but I think people still deserve the freedom to write it, and they’re going to anyways lmfao (IF you’re tagging disturbing content correctly, you owe people that much!)

I’ve been having those thoughts for a while now so I had to yap them out of my head lol, but to answer the actual question, aside from Keegan, I hateeee seeing the Walker fam mischaracterized. I think because (it seems) they have more info available on them compared to the other ghosts, so when I see people just giving their personalities a 180 I’m like…Hesh would NOT act like that😩. Especially with Elias because he’s my husband obviously…so people missing larger parts of his character or stuff that’s implied about him makes my eye twitch a little lol.

Also, I don’t typically see a whole lot of ooc stuff for the ghosts in the first place tbh (minus Keegan, bc he has reached the CoD masses of course). Because we’re a smaller fandom, and I think people tend to stay in character more in smaller fandoms (at least from what I’ve seen) because there’s so little content available on characters, and it’s like we’re all clinging to what we DO know about them lmfao.

Thanks for attending my ted talk 💋

[katasstrophy]

I feel like I've seen every Bluelock boy paired with a very cute, very bubbly, and chill gf/reader before, but I haven't seen any of them paired with a cool and competent or even bossier type. Are there any guys you think of liking that type??? Or maybe just deserve that type to be kept in line lmao 🤣

nonnie!! 😳 NONNIE UR BRAIN I’M GIVING IT A THOUSAND KISSES UR SOOO RIGHT FOR THIS!!! i guess it doesn’t really show with the fics i’ve uploaded so far – which is a damn shame, i should fix that – but i am absolutely all for readers who are just… out there, ya know? they’re prickly, or easy to anger, or sardonic as all hell, or way too clever for their own good or yes yes, bossy<3 i eat that shit UP like it’s my last meal. this is not to say i don’t enjoy sweet, bubbly readers (bc i do!) but the type you describe just… scratches a certain itch iykwim 👁️👁️

i think one of my first posts ever about blue lock on this blog (cw. mid writing LMAO) was exactly about this. obviously most of the blue lock guys are only extreme egoists when they’re playing soccer, but i do think that aspect of their lives will ultimately start to bleed into their personality as they grow up/go pro. so having someone who’s just like “yeah that’s great and all but if you won’t make it to date night i’ll leave your sorry ass” is just. so sexy to them like?? they haven’t gotten their ego knocked down a peg in a while so i think they’d be drawn to a partner like that askdhxnbz idk if i’m explaining this very well but as far as i’m concerned all blue lock boys deserve an unhinged reader lol 😤

THAT BEING SAID!!! >:))) i have a top three list of blue lock men who i, personally, would love to put in their place and encourage anyone out there to do so as well LOL

1. MICHAEL KAISER — this cocky motherfucker ugh need i say more 🙄 the urge to censor his name was real strong but i persevered still cannot believe i’m (sadly) attracted to this horrible, horrible man. he’s sooo insufferable and just so obsessed with himself like he unironically refers to himself as the emperor when i tell you there’s nothing i want more than to make this man beg on his knees i mean it – what a pretty sight that would be hm? <3 all his past lovers probably treated him like he was god’s greatest gift to women (HE IS NOT) – and by now he’s not only used to it but comes to expect it – so when he meets you and you’re like “mm you’re kind of a prick leave me alone thenk yew✨✨” he’s just. so scandalized LMFAO suddenly he’s the one chasing after you and vying for a shred of your attention oooohh yes that’s exactly what he deserves how it should be

2. ITOSHI SAE — listen he might be my precious babygirl now but i used to hate this mans guts like no other and that little resentment still lives on in my heart in the form of wanting this man’s downfall to be a woman like don’t tell me that’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. he’s just so single-mindedly focused on soccer – japan’s treasure and what not – and thinks he can get away with being an asshole because of it but you place down your foot and tell him to cut the bullshit or you’ll find someone who treats you better (AMEN SISTER) and suddenly he’s grappling with the reality that shit he might just fall apart without you yes girl make him suffer

3. OLIVER AIKU — i couldn’t not include the resident fuckboy here mmmm the possibilities for him are endless and each one more delicious than the last. he might not be as insufferable as the others but he still thinks extremely highly of himself, especially when it comes to his way with the ladies. typical “oh no i don’t do relationships” kinda guy who can show you a good time for a night before dipping in the morning – and you just don’t want that. so you reject his advances, say you’re not interested and move on, but for some reason, oliver can’t. literally physically wounds his pride when he crawls back for a second chance but you don’t budge, still wary of him due to his past behavior unless he can show you otherwise. and the way he scrambles to prove himself as trustworthy to you? god tier groveling from a man YUMM

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Can I request headcanons or a scenario for Reader (pick a gender, idc) giving V a handjob? Just holding him close, somewhere safe in some nice + safe bolt hole somewhere in Red Grave city, listening to him moan (and maybe talk? If he can talk while getting off) while Reader gets him off? Please, his voice is so pretty, he'd sound so nice 😍 And he deserves to feel good 💜

Lineaments of Gratified Desire: V x G/N Reader

Minors DNI; FOR 18+ ONLY!

Seriously, go away; go read some fluff or angst or something.

SUMMARY:

     Despite V’s physical limitations and condition, the fragile man has saved you on more than one occasion from certain death. Today, you decided to repay his kind deeds.

BEGINNING NOTES:

Requested 10th June 2023 by Saiyanblood2 on Tumblr :))))

🛏️📔🛏️ Submissive V x G/N reader Fluff..? If you squint Smut Handjob; V receiving 📔🛏️📔 🟪Takes place during DMC 5 🟪The reader is a demon hunter who works with the DMC. 🟪The reader uses Gilgamesh and Revenant. 🟪Quick reminder that “sword” sizes are found in the character's H/C chapter (Linked here) 🟪I haven’t finished “Visions of V” yet (not very good at reading things and I haven’t had much time/motivation to do so no Vergil joke intended lmfao) but I’m like 99% sure that this conflicts with that, sorry. 🟪Yes, I know that jumping from a window you should do like a parachute roll or whatever it’s called; just let me have this lmao 🟪Bagheera is the name of the jaguar from “Jungle Book” which I’ve never seen, if I’m honest. But! I feel like Dante and Vergil would’ve seen it as kids since the movie was made in 1967 and they were born in 1980. (I use Bagheera in here and I figure I should explain it lol) 🟪Boxer briefs (as far as I am aware) usually have a zipper fly; so V’s do as well. 🟪This is my first time writing (and acknowledging) that I h/c V to have an uncut dick. It might be a bit rough; sorry. (Fun fact: I also h/c Vergil and Dante to also have uncut dicks lmao)

===

     “So,” Nero mindlessly wandered around the interior of the van, waiting for Nico to finish her work, “You and V, huh?”

     As you adjusted Gilgamesh’s gauntlets and furrowed your brow, responding without looking up, “What about V and me?”

     Leaning against the inner wall of the van, Nero stuck his hand in his jeans pocket in an attempt to act casual, “You two a thing?”

     “Wh-what?” A flustered expression adorned your features as you slowly panned up to meet Nero’s curious gaze.

     “Come on,” he gave a playful smirk, leaning forward slightly, “You can--”

     A loud southern-accented voice cut him off from the back of the van, “He an’ I got a bet if y’all are fuckin’ or not.”

     “If we’re…” You slowly blinked, processing what was said, “V and I are not-” Putting your hands up, you shook your head, “We aren’t anything or doing anything.”

     Nico clicked her tongue in disappointment while Nero pumped his fist with a quiet, “Yes!”

     Rolling her eyes, Nico pulled a wad of cash from her back pocket, counting out what looked like ten dollars. Nero strolled over to her workbench, a smug grin plastered on his face. In an almost exaggerated manner, he snatched the money from her and tucked it in his duffle bag, which was neatly placed underneath the couch.

     A squeak of the van door caught everyone’s attention, V looked around for a moment before his gaze fixated on you, “Pardon my late arrival, I was… busy.”

     You smiled and took a few steps to stand closer to him, “It’s alright; it was nice having a break for a few minutes.”

     Nero raised a brow, “You guys are already heading out?” 

     With a nod, you turned to address the pair, “Just a quick sweep of the next dozen or so blocks; we shouldn’t be long.”

     “Uh-huh,” the white-haired man took a deep breath, shaking his head with a small smile, “You’re gonna burn yourself out again; gotta sleep at some point.”

     He tossed you Revenant which you caught and slid in the holster on your lower back, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Besides,” you took a deep breath and sighed, “the city’s not gonna clear itself.”

     Making a phone call motion with her hand, Nico spoke, “Keep in touch, hun.”

     With a playful sarcastic wink you gave her double finger guns, “Will do babe,” the two of you shared a laugh before you addressed V, who, unbeknownst to you, hadn't stopped staring at you, “Ready?”

     “Of course,” he pivoted around, opening and holding the door open, “I’ll follow your lead.”

     With departing waves, you stepped out the door, V following suit. A warmth found its way to your face as you smiled as you walked side-by-side; a comforting silence settling between you. Despite only knowing V briefly, you had grown quite fond of the lithe man. The way he treated you and spoke to you was so different compared to the roughness of both Dante and Nero that it made his first meeting with you stick out like a sore thumb. 

===

    It had only been a week or so after the Qliphoth had appeared.

    After only God knows how long, you had taken some vacation time and left the city. Upon hearing the news about the outbreak, you immediately turned around and put your holiday on hold. This wouldn't have been too big of a deal if not for the unbelievably high amount of military checkpoints you had to go through; re-explaining that you work as a devil hunter and your employer had been asked to help handle the situation. It was monotonous, to say the least.

    Not to mention that Nico, Nero, and the client--whom you hadn't met yet--were on the complete opposite side of the city.

    An exasperated sigh left your lips as you kicked a rock using Gilgamesh's boots. It had been nearly 72 hours since you'd slept, eaten, or had any sort of significant source of water. Exhausted didn't even come close to explaining how you felt.

    Thankfully, life decided to throw you a bone and you stumbled upon a relatively un-damaged apartment complex. Not passing up the chance, you headed straight inside and cleared out the first and second floor: given it was only lower-level demons like Empusas. One of the second-floor rooms had a door still attached and a corpse-free bed. Quietly shutting the door, you flopped onto the bed.

    Even with you sleeping with one eye open, you were jumped by a demon that you hadn't heard. It was a Nobody and by the time you got your arms up to block, it was too late to ground yourself. The demon smacked you out the room's window.

    Landing on your feet, Gilgamesh took the brunt of the fall; however, it still sent a shocking pang of pain up your body. Crumpling over on yourself, you grumbled some obscenities before returning upright. Your eyes settled on a newly formed horde and you put your hands up, ready to fight.

    The extent of your exhaustion was becoming evident as you threw sloppy punches and were only able to kick half as high as normal. Despite this, you still managed to clear the demons... or so you thought.

     An icicle from a Baphomet nicked your bicep causing you to hiss in pain. Placing a gauntlet over the torn flesh, you spun around to see the demon which was floating right out in the open. Though it was a stupid move, you spirited straight at the icy demon, avoiding all manner of magical attacks.

    Using Gilgamesh's saws on your boots, you sprung upwards and drilled up into its brain with the gauntlets; killing it. Smiling to yourself, you landed and shook the corpse from your hand.

    Your hair stood on end and your expression fell.

    Slowly pivoting around, you came face to face with a trio of Hell Judeccas. As you waited with bated breath for one of them to move, you felt the blood from your wound glide down and drip off your fingers. The Baphomet was a challenge enough right now; so this fight would most likely end poorly for you. Death was almost a guarantee and there wasn't even anyone around to see it.

    Taking a deep breath, you took off towards the demons and dodged two sets of blades that were sent straight at you by sliding on your knees. Pulling Revenant from its place on your back, you shot at them, praying that you hit at least one. However, you weren't so lucky and they all moved or teleported out of the way.

    Quickly getting to your feet, you readied for another attack when a strange cat-like snarl from behind you caught you off guard. The supposed source of the sound, a large black jaguar, darted passed you and attacked the opposing creatures.

     Then a shrill cackle came from behind in the same direction, quickly approaching and flying over you, “Ha! Bagheera was right, I’ll be damned.”

    Confusion set in as you watched with mouth slightly agape at the demons being shredded by, what you could only assume to be, more demons.

     “ “The most sublime act is to set another before you. / If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.”.” A low sultry voice from behind you caught your attention, turning slightly; attempting to keep an eye on both the demons and the new voice.

     “Who-?” 

     You froze, your already pounding heart picking up a few extra paces at the sight. Though Dante had called you and given you a small description of the newest client of (The) Devil May Cry, you hadn’t expected him to look like this. 

     He slowly walked past you, sliding the well-kept brown pleather and golden accented book into his, rather promiscuous, leather jacket. When you turned back around to face the demons, the amount of confusion you had only tripled. The two animals had taken care of the three Hell Judeccas, all looking oddly de-saturated and on the verge of death. The gaunt tattooed stranger, using his cane, swept up one of the large demon’s sets of blades and swung them around, slicing it in half. He repeated the action but was able to kill the final two in one combined swing. 

     All you could muster was a confused open-mouthed huff. 

     The large hawk addressed the raven-haired man, “Well that was fun.”

     Rolling his eyes, the man sighed and turned his attention to the jaguar. The large cat had begun to creep up to you; not in a threatening way but rather, what appeared to be, a curious one.

     Just as it got within an arm's length from you, the man placed his cane down using it to support himself, and simply said, “To me.”

     Both animals returned to him and quickly disappeared into the man, causing more blackened ink to appear on his pallid skin. 

     “Are you alright?” His eyes focused on you.

     “I-” You closed your eyes and rapidly shook your head, rationalizing that his animals weren't real, thinking it was caused by your delirious state, “I’m fine; thanks for the help.”

     A warm smile pulled at his plush lips, “The boy asked me to keep an eye out for someone who looks an awful lot like you,” he gestured with his eyes down to Gilgamesh, “and would have that devil arm.”

     You laughed softly, “Nero’s actually here, huh?”

     “He is, however, we parted ways after stopping in that woman’s loud van.”

     “Nico’s here too?” Shaking your head you looked down with raised brows, “Man, the whole crew’s out here.,” You looked back up, “What about Dante or the ladies? They out here too?”

     His smile faded, “No, I’m afraid that they are more than likely dead at this point.”

     “Dead? Surely you’re kidding.”

     With a flat mouth, he broke his gaze away for a moment, “No. Sorry to relay such bitter news upon our first meeting.”

     Grinding your teeth in thought and moving your jaw back and forth, you stood thinking for a moment, “So it’s just Nico, Nero, me, and--?”

     “Call me V,” the lithe man took a few strides closer to you, standing comfortably close.

     “So you are the client then?”

     V nodded, “Yes, that is correct.”

     “Man,” you gestured with one hand up and down his body, the other hand resting on your hip, “Wish we had customers like you more often,” for better or for worse, you spoke your mind, “cause damn you’re-- wow.”

     He looked down, hiding the slight pink on his face at the comment, and laughed, “You’re much more blunt than the others led me to believe.”

     A wide smile stretched across your face, emphasizing the bags under your bloodshot eyes, which V finally noted, “Just callin’ it like I see it, V.”

     “May I do the same?”

     Putting your arms up, you cracked your shoulders as you responded, “Sure.”

     “You need rest.”

     Putting your arms down with a heavy sigh, “It’s that obvious, huh?”

     V laughed slightly, “Just calling it as I see it,” slowly, he began to walk back the way he’d come from, “We aren’t far from Nico, I'm sure you could rest up there.”

     Happily, you turned to follow him, “I’ll follow your lead.”

===

     “What’s with that expression Wanderer?” V raised a brow, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

     “Oh!” With an embarrassed smile, you placed a hand on the back of your neck, “Just got lost in thought, sorry.”

     “May I ask what you were thinking so intensely about?” He shifted slightly, allowing Shadow to take a break from traveling, and began supporting himself with his cane causing the two of you to move slower.

     “Just thinking about our first time, that’s all.”

     A breathy sultry laugh left his lips, “ Our first time? Well now, I didn’t take you to be such a bold flirt today.”

     “Wh-huh?” Replaying the conversation, your eyes went wide and you turned to him, doing your best to not trip as you continued walking, “No no- I didn’t-- that wasn’t-”

     V laughed again, eyeing you up and down from the corner of his eye with a smirk, “Right, pardon my assumption.”

     You stared with parted lips momentarily before returning to face the correct way, lips pursed and cheeks unbearably hot. Nervousness settled like a brick in your gut as you watched the ground in front of you, causing you to miss the fact V was staring at you with half-lidded eyes. 

     Mindlessly playing with his teeth with his tongue, he debated whether to tease you any further about what was said; ultimately he decided to drop it. In truth, however, the lithe man was a bit disappointed that you weren’t thinking about the idea of being with him as he had thought about many times before. V felt almost guilty about the intense lust he felt for you.

     The raven-haired poet was unquestionably, unfathomably, undeniably, in love with you--even if he has only known you for a short time. V was certain that he wanted to be with you for the rest of this lifetime and, what could be argued to be, his next; in whatever way you’d have him. Whether it was just as colleagues, friends, or lovers; it didn’t matter, he needed you in his life. 

     His grip tightened on his cane, realizing that Vergil may end up pushing you away, despite the pronounced dependency on you. You were like a rich dark sweet wine that he was unable to put down and wanted to do nothing but sip upon you till the end of time itself. A low sigh left his nose, secretly praying that he was wrong about how things would be when all was said and done. 

     “V?” Your voice was quiet as you adjusted Gilgamesh for the umpteenth time, “Can I ask you something?”

     “Of course,” he straightened upright, holding the cane horizontally, gloved fingers wrapping around the blade.

     “When this is all over, could we…” You paused for a moment, “stay in contact?”

     “Do you want to?”

     Sheepishly, you nodded.

     V smirked, “Then of course we can.”

     Your eyes flicked up to meet his unwavering gaze, smiling brightly at him, “Thanks.”

     “Perhaps, if you’d like, we could consider some other things as well.”

     “O-other things?” A shake had found its way to your words as you waited with bated breath for his answer.

     However, he didn’t answer, instead, he gave a low chuckle and turned his gaze from you, gesturing with his cane, “It seems we have work to do,” he put the metal back down and leaned on it again.

     A heavy sigh left your lips and, without a second thought, you took off toward the horde.

     Not hearing V calling out for you to stop.

     Out of the corner of your eye, you saw fast almost unplaceable movement. Although you went to bring your gauntlets up as fast as possible, you were unable to make the time gap. Except when you opened your eyes, instead of a big demon skewering you through your middle, you were on your ass and V was lying on top of you. His arms wrapped around your hips with his face right underneath your navel, face down and breathing heavily.

     Before you could ask, a familiar squawking voice chimed in, “Aw, how romantic; Romeo can sure as hell hustle when he needs to,” the bird let out a laugh.

     A snarl left Shadow’s maw, seemingly annoyed at the lack of help from Griffon. 

     “Yeah. Yeah. I’m on it,” Griffon returned to the fight, leaving you to assist V up.

     Slowly, he picked his head up enough to look at you, emerald eyes holding a heavy unplaceable emotion. Heat quickly filled your face at the realization of the position you were in which didn’t go unnoticed by the raven-haired man. Without moving too much, V snapped his fingers causing his hair to go white and the last of his tattoos to dissipate. 

     “Are you alright?” You propped yourself up with one arm and used the other to cautiously tuck his hair back, resting an armoured palm on his cheek. 

     “Mmn,” he paused in thought, enjoying the feeling of your touch, “If you are then I am.”

     A corner of your mouth twitched up slightly, “I’m alright; thank you.”

     He took a deep breath in response, resisting the urge to place his face back down against your abdomen. Though all good things come to an end he knew he had to get up. With a grunt, he pushed up and sat up in a kneel, one knee up for him to push off of. However, you were quick to your feet and offered a hand instead, which he graciously accepted. 

     “I’ve got this,” you squeezed his hand before letting go, “Don’t worry about it.”

     Not giving him time to banter or reject your offer, you took off and finished off whatever half-dead demons were strewn about. 

     It didn’t take long for the horde to disappear into nothing but blood and gore. Admittedly, V always enjoys watching you work--especially with hand-to-hand weapons. Whether it is a holdover from Vergil’s distaste for guns or if it is because of the innate sensual nature of the style; he couldn’t help but find it arousing. The way you seemed to show off for him was just a cherry on top. 

     There was something in the way you pranced around that he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by. With all of this considered, V was struggling to not become visibly excited and, much to his dismay, was starting to lose the fight. 

     Once the demons were dead, you waltzed over to V and carefully grabbed his arm, tugging slightly, “Come with me.”

     “Is something the matter, Wanderer?” The lithe man’s hair returned to its dark shade as Nightmare faded from sight.

     You shook your head, flashing him a closed-eye smile, “Nope; just trust me, V.”

     He swallowed hard and nodded, “Very well, lead on.”

     A confused tilt adorned his brow as he tried to piece together what you were doing-- or planning. It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the destination you wanted, a mostly intact hotel. 

     “Could you leave Griffon and Shadow out here, please?” You turned to him, stopping in front of the entrance. 

     His gaze thinned, “May I ask why?”

     “Last time I went into one of these, I got attacked and thrown out a two-story window,” you gave him a falsely doe-eyed smile, “Figure they could be our lookout for a little bit--just until we’re done.”

     V wanted to push for a better answer, knowing that made no sense; however, his curiosity got the better of him and, deciding to play along, summoned both familiars. 

     “Stay here, we will be back shortly-”

     Griffon immediately turned to you, laughing with a slightly impudent attitude to his words, “Be careful with him, don’t need him dying of a heart attack-”

     You laughed, cutting the bird off, “I’ll take care of him; I promise.”

     With that, the two of you disappeared into the building. 

     “I’m going to scout ahead a bit; okay?” You let go of his arm, making V ever-so-slightly frown.

     “Sure.”

     As you went on, V’s eyes quickly drifted to your hips. Lewd thoughts echoed in his mind as he watched you seemingly bounce down the hall, peeking into each room with just the right amount of lean forwards so that he got a perfect view of your body. Each stride of yours had this certain flaunting nature to it as if you were purposefully taunting him. 

     Reaching the final room on the first floor, you decided to head in. Though no one else was aware, you’d already surveyed this building earlier and cleared out every demon within; meaning only small fries--like Empusas--would be here, if at all. This room was the closest to normal there was, having almost zero damage. 

     The room was relatively large; the bathroom was to the left of the doorway and the rest of the room to the right. The bedding was still neatly tucked, the faucet still ran, and there was even a radio with quite an array of classical CDs. 

     You made your way over to said radio with a hum, bending over at the waist to rummage through the music.

     V joined you in the room, looking around in slight confusion before his gaze settled on you again. A sway had found its way to your hips and, despite your flustered and nervous feeling, you smirked. You knew he was looking at you; confirming your hunch about his oddly vague words. 

     Eventually settling on a random assortment of Tchaikovsky's work, you slowly stood upright and placed the disc in the player with a half-surprised laugh at the fact it still worked. When you turned around, a wide-eyed stare was all you could give to V, who was shifting awkwardly and avoiding your eyes. Though you’d hope some light teasing would get him in the mood, you hadn’t expected him to get so hard so quickly.

     Without a word to him, you slipped past him and into the bathroom. Carefully, you placed Gilgamesh’s gauntlets and Revenant on the countertop then washed your hands, using the soap left in the dispenser. Returning to the room while drying your hands, you meandered toward the extremely confused horny goth. 

     As you discarded the towel, V finally spoke up, “Wanderer, what are we doing here?”

     “Well,” you gently grabbed the open of his jacket, a hand on each side, thumbing over the black leather, “After how many times you’ve saved me, I figure that it’s about time you get a reward.”

     His eyes flicked all around your face then down to your forearms, resting his cane against a nearby wall. Cautiously, V snaked his arms around your back and pulled you tight to him, “A reward ?”

     “Yeah,” you leaned closer and placed your nose beside his, lips just barely apart, speaking with a whisper, “If you’re interested…”

     Closing the gap, V leaned into you for both support and to deepen the kiss. An icy hand slid up your back, gracefully dancing across your still-clothed skin, and came to rest on the back of your neck. Your hands slid down his sides, coming to rest at his belt line, hooking your forefingers into the loops of his ever-tightening skinny jeans. 

     Switching to long drawn-out heated kisses, V squirmed under your touch as he felt you pull his hips into yours. Breaking away for a moment, the two of you stayed close, breathing heavily in content. A smirk pulled at his lips as he moved to kiss your up jawline, taking his time, making his way to your earlobe, tugging on it with a bite. 

     V rested with the side of his face against yours. The hand from your neck made its way to your upper back and, mindlessly, the thin man began to sway with you, enjoying the music and relaxing in the moment. You could feel his heart racing from just his chest resting against yours; no wonder Griffon gave you shit about V having a heart attack. 

     Bit by bit your hands left his jeans and went to his corset, undoing the already loose strings further. Taking the hint, V let go of you and removed his jacket then his corset; being tossed onto the bed and floor, respectively. A small huffed moan left his lips as he watched your hands grope up and down his torso.

     “Wanderer…” His voice was low, but brimming with an unmistakable lust.

     Resting your hands on the sides of his hips, you stood for a moment. A smirk tugged at your lips as you watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. Leaning closer, you placed a kiss at the crook of his shoulder, followed by a soft bite. V submissively tilted his head away from you, giving you more access to his neck. A smile tugged at your lips as you placed tender kisses, and the occasional bite, along his cold skin. A hand slid to the front of his jeans, finally, your touch wasn’t to just tease him. 

     V placed his hands on your sides, holding you closer, pursed lips hiding a groan that hung in the back of his throat. Though he knows it’s a bit pathetic, just feeling your hand against his cock was proving to be somewhat of a challenge for the inexperienced man to not prematurely finish. 

     Using both hands, you went to remove his belt, before stopping. V’s swaying had become much more pronounced--not having a means of support other than you. 

     You whispered against his neck, “Why don’t we sit down, hm?”

     V, much to your surprise, seemed to stumble over his thoughts, “Any par- particular position?”

     Fully leaning back, you grabbed his hand and guided him to the bed, “Get up here-- do you need help?”

     He gave a nasally laugh, “No, I am alright,” he crawled up onto the bed, kneeling with his knees both on the bed, “Now what?”

     Without answering, you climbed atop the mattress as well, sitting with your back nearly against the headboard, and patted your thighs. Understanding what you wanted, V sat on your lap facing you, wrapping his legs behind you.

     “You’re beautiful, V,” reaching up, you moved a strand of hair from the front of his face, tucking it behind his ear, and leaned in close, speaking right above his lips, “So very beautiful.”

     The gap quickly closed between you and V’s hands cupped your jaw, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks. Your hands went back to work on his belt, making him shift slightly. Feeling that you had the belt fully undone, his lips left yours, and he moved back just enough to look you in the eyes. With kiss-swollen lips slightly agape, V swallowed hard as he heard you unbutton his jeans. 

     Slowly, methodically, you unzipped the fly on his jeans, making sure to note every little micro-movement V made. This had been something you’d wanted for a long time and you were going to make sure to enjoy every last bit. When you finally broke from his gaze to look down, you raised a brow.

     Nervousness pooling in his gut, V noticed your expression, “Is- is something wrong, love?”

     A wide smile tugged at your lips, “No- not at all,” trying to hold back a laugh you looked back up at him, “It's just, with the rest of your outfit, I honestly expected you to be wearing a thong or g-string; not boxer briefs.”

     V let out a laugh of relief, “I see; I-” A stifled moan cut his words short. 

     Resting your hand on the inner side of his thigh, you started to slowly run the side of your thumb up and down his bulge.

     Heavy exhales left his nose as he watched your hand and he moved his hands to the outsides of your shoulders.

     Out of the corner of your eye, you saw V’s coat on the bed and got a wicked idea, “You know V,” your motions slowed even further causing him to let out a small huff of disappointment, “I really like your voice…”

     His brow twitched slightly, attempting to figure out what you had in store, “Is that right?”

     Carefully, you reached over to his jacket, grabbed his book from an inner pocket, and then handed it to him, “Why don’t you read me something, hm?”

     “Is there a particular poem you’d like?” The prized item was held between you both, the top of it resting gently against your chest.

     You shook your head, “Whatever you think fits best.”

     As he flipped through the book, you resumed your touch. With eyes trained on his crotch, you unzipped the boxer’s fly and heard his page-turning falter slightly. Slipping his cock out into the open air, V let out a small moan, a page pinned between his forefinger and thumb.

     “Now, now, V.” You looked up at him from the tops of your eyes, “You stop, I stop; got it?”

     He pursed his lips and then nodded, continuing with his search. There was a visible shake to his hands as he did his best to play along. Ghosting your fingers along his shaft, you noticed that he had pre-cum already dribbling from his tip and he was heavily twitching; apparently, he was much more sensitive than you’d expected. 

     Rolling his foreskin back slightly, you thumbed over his tip. His page-turning had stopped again, and you hummed slightly, “Find one?”

     With a slightly strained voice, he nodded, “Y-yes, I,” he moaned as you lightly wrapped a hand around his shaft, closing his eyes he continued, “I found something suitable.”

     “Good,” you brought your thumb to your lips and put it in your mouth, cleaning the digit, “The floor is yours,” V’s eyes flicked to you, watching you mindlessly roll your tongue over your lips, and his blush deepened tenfold. 

     A shaky breath left his mouth as he focused on the page before him, “ “What is it men in women do require? / The l-lineaments of Gratified Desire.”.”

     Spitting into your palm, you once again wrapped a hand around his shaft. With slow lazy pumps, you noted the feeling of his cock in your hand. Eyes flicking between his face and dick.

     V’s brow twitched as he let out a hissing groan, “ “Wh-what is it women do in men require? / The lineaments of Gr-gratified Desire.”,” The raven-haired man’s hips unintentionally jerked slightly at the feeling of you putting your forefinger and thumb tips together, encircling his cock, and gently pulling up on his tip. 

     He hunched forwards slightly, his hair falling in front of his eyes, “ “The look of love alarms / Because ’tis f-fill’d with fire; / But the look of s-soft de-deceit- / Shall Win the love-lover’s hire” Ngh-ah~”     The fragile man’s legs constricted your middle ever tighter with each passing moment. Returning to stroking his entire length, you slowed down; not wanting him to finish quite yet. 

     Lips trembling, he continued, “ “S-soft Deceit & Idleness, / These ar-are Beauty’s sweetest dress. He--” 

     A sustained groan left his lips as he leaned forwards even more, placing the top of his head against your lips, which you placed a loving kiss upon, “ “He who binds to himself a- a joy / Dot the winged life d-destroy;”.”

     V bucked his hips slightly upwards, desperate for more friction, speaking with a whimpering moan, “Please, Wanderer, I can’t-”

     Whispering against him, you slowed your motions even further, “You’re almost done, my love… finish it for me; please?”

     Taking a stuttering inhale through his nose and low breathy exhale from his mouth, he licked his lips before continuing, “ “But he who ki-kisses the joy as it flies / Live in Eternity’s sun-sunrise.” Ah-ah~”

     Quickening your hand even faster than before, you placed another elongated kiss against his hair, “Good boy.”

     Tossing the book from his hands V sat upright. Icy fingers wrapped around the back of your neck and gripped the side of your shoulder. The raven-haired man began to thrust his hips into your hand, practically riding your thighs. 

     You smirked and leaned in to place kisses on his collarbones, “I love you, V.”

     “I- Uh-ah~,” another loud noise came from the man as he felt you add you use his pre to slick his cock even more, “I love you too, Wanderer.”

     You upturned your face slightly, kissing his throat up to the underside of his jaw, a confident purr to your words, “You gonna cum for me, V~?”

     The frantic shifting of his hands to cup the sides of your face gave you your answer. V guided your face up to his and placed his forehead against yours. 

     “Please,” his voice was soft and pleading, his mind a hazy lust-filled mess that was unable to come up with any other words. 

     Upon using one hand to stroke him and the other to play with his tip, you felt his thigh muscles tighten and his fingers dig into you. He pushed his lips onto yours, kissing you as if he were never going to be able to again. His hands wandered down your body, groping at your clothes.

     Balling up your shirt in his hands from his grip, he broke off the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you momentarily. The skinny man leaned back and arched his body into yours. 

     He let out a final full-mouthed moan and bucked his hips one last time as his body tensed. 

     Warm silky white fluid decorated your hands as you slowly rode out his orgasm. A feeling of pride filled your heart as you made sure to etch the sight before you into your mind. 

     V’s skin had completely lost all of the inky patches and his chest was heaving. With how far he arched back, you could see the underside of his ribs and the prominent hip dips on each side. You watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he audibly swallowed a few times. 

     After a moment, he leaned back towards you. 

     Ghostly white hair fell in front of his flushed features as V’s eyes met yours. A small smile found its way to his lips and the two of you shared one more kiss. This time, however, it wasn’t lustful but a sweet loving gesture. With slow long kisses, V placed a forefinger under your jaw. Upon breaking away, you both shared a breathy satisfied huff and he slid his hand to cup your cheek, thumbing over your skin.

     “So,” you relaxed into his touch, “Are we getting attacked or something?” His brow twitched in confusion, “Your hair.”

     “Did I really..?” he leaned away and focused on the strands in front of his eyes which were slowly returning to black, “That’s… I didn’t know that would happen; how strange.”

     You removed your hands and looked at them, a slight playful teasing to your voice, “Little pent up there V?”

     Although you weren’t complaining, V had cum quite a lot harder than you’d expected and made a mess between both of you. 

     With an embarrassed laugh, he turned from your gaze, and rested his hands on his thighs, “Perhaps it is because you are so important to me…” V didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t even tried to masturbate while in this form--not to mention that Vergil hadn’t done anything like that in over twenty years. 

     Humming quietly along to the long-forgotten music, you brought your hand up to your mouth and cleaned it off. V’s eyes immediately flicked to you and he stared at you wide-eyed. Slowly, your eyes drifted to his as you continued. 

     When you went to give your other, less coated hand, the same treatment, you noticed something else and raised your brows in surprise, “That was a quick turnaround.”

     The tattooed man looked down and then back at you, “It’s not my fault you are so… appealing to me,” once more, he leaned his forehead against yours, “Wanderer.”

     “Mnm, well then,” you placed a long kiss against his lips, biting his lower lip after, “Guess my work isn’t done then, hm?”

     “Your work?” V backed away and removed his legs from your waist, running a hand down your middle, resting it just above your hip line, “If it’s all the same to you, this time, I’d much rather be the one to play.”

===

ENDING NOTES: Not me having no clue how to end this lmfao 🛏️📔🛏️ Been a long time since I’ve tried to write V lol I really should write him more Also hope that this was close enough to the request. I just kind of ran with the flow so it’s not exactly the same--the poem reading isn’t really what was asked but I figured it was close enough. Another thing, sorry for the improper dividing of dialogue trees when V’s reading. It was too chaotic for me to feel comfortable leaving in one chunk (which is technically what I should’ve done since it was only V talking) sorry lol Also if you are into like video edit shit, I’ve been re-watching one from “V’s Love” on YouTube titled “V | Slow Down | DMC 5 GMV”. Give it a watch- seriously it’s fans myself gayly oh boy. 📔🛏️📔 Poem(s) Quoted: William Blake: Proverbs of Hell William Blake: Several Questions Answered (full version)

If you like what you read here; please check out the rest of my one-shots on AO3. Comments, reshares, and likes/kudos are appreciated!! Thanks for reading!

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[brekwrites]

Ew u another apologist of those aroace fuckwads and celestial family-obsessed fucktards. U not gonna write solarmoon cuz of us? Good! We don't need no fics from the likes of u. U really thought ur fics are worth missing? Bffr! There more solarmoon writers who writes better than u and writes better sex scenes

LMFAO Die mad about it, bitch.

To be clear, my stance on the issue is: do whatever the fuck you want as long as you're not being an asshole.

I put that in big, bold font so your stupid ass could easily find and read it, since you so clearly missed the point the first time around.

You don't want to ship anything and like the family dynamic? Great. You don't like a certain ship because it makes you uncomfortable, so you block the tag and make other content? Good for you. You ship the same things as me and want to talk to me about it? Hmu let's be friends. But don't go into my space, or anyone else's, and harass people for doing something that literally does not hurt anyone or involve you in any way. What are you, a fucking cop?

I also never said I was going to stop writing solarmoon. I said if you can't behave yourself, I'm blocking you and putting my work on private because nasty, hateful people like you don't deserve to have fun until you learn to shut up and quit bitching. I'm going to write whatever I damn well please, and unless you're going to reach through the screen and pull my hands off this keyboard, you're going to have to resign yourself to that fact.

Anyway, I'd like to take this opportunity to promote Tension, my Solar-centric, celestial family piece that has no ships and focuses on Solar's relationship with his new family. The canon celestial family dynamics are great and I enjoy them!

Finally, someone should shoot me a list of these other solarmoon writers who are better than me and write better sex scenes! If I haven't already seen their work, I would love some more reading material. :)

[cafecitoeddie]

Abuela pulling Eddie aside for a heart to heart at some point but I want it done in Spanish. She needs Eddie to hear her.

;lasdjf;aoejfa;sdf

"eddito... cuantas veces te tengo que decir lo mismo? tu tienes que seguir tu corazon y no tus obligaciones. mi angelito no necesita a nadie mas que su papa. pero, si ay por ahi un tal gringito que los hace feliz a los dos, pues bueno, tan solo que estes feliz, yo estare tranquila. hazle caso a tu abuela que solo quiere lo mejor para ti. tu tambien mereces ser feliz y te mereces tantas cosas buenas en tu vida."

"eddito... how many times do i need to tell you the same thing? you have to follow your heart not your obligations. my little angel doesn't need anyone but his dad. but if there's a certain gringito (white boy affectionate) that makes the two of you happy, then, as long as you're happy, i'm happy. listen to your abuela who only wants what's best for you.. you deserve to be happy and you deserve good things in your life."

IDK or something maybe!!! the punctuation is there man i'm just on my work keyboard LMFAO

[teaveetamer]

Take I just read on Twitter with over 200 likes: “I think the thing about edelgard discourse is most of it isn’t started by edelgard fans. it’s started by people who can’t read going “edelgard is a fascist who is evil and wants to genocide rhea” and then those people going “ugh fucking discourse” when a dozen people go “wtf””

Thoughts?

I’m sure they honest to god believe that lmfao. I’ll be real anon, I don’t really expect much from the group of people who can quite literally read someone saying “using genocide rhetoric is bad” and somehow turn that into “you think Edelgard fans deserve to be genocided!” even after numerous ELI5 level clarifications. Like we have achieved a level of disconnection from reality that I did not think was humanly possible.

I’m certain that any of the numerous people like myself who have received death threats, gotten their (sometimes completely unrelated to Edelgard) posts screencapped and reposted, and had pro-genocide rhetoric left in their notes unprompted from the Edelgard stannies can attest to the fact that the Edelgard stannies fucking love starting shit. I have never met a group of people more violently opposed to the idea of “don’t like, don’t read” and leaving people who disagree with them alone.

They can do all the impression management they want. 95% of the fandom is sick of their shit and hates their guts. The only reason they don’t get even more pushback for it is because they have demonstrated that they are the type of people who are willing to stalk you, go through your social media account to try and find personal info they can use, brigade you, sexually harass you, engage in sexist, ableist, racist, etc. rhetoric to insult and demean you, deny you your identity, appropriate your struggles and throw them back in your face, lie about you being a real life groomer, pedophile, or rapist and spread those rumors across multiple platforms, engage in pro-genocide rhetoric, and like I probably forgot something because they’ve done so much shit I can’t even keep track, and who wants to deal with that? I think most of the fandom is just quietly hoping they’ll burn themselves out and move the fuck on from from the series so they can finally leave us all the fuck alone.

[imtooscaredforthis]

The Dark Side of Ghostface

AKA- Me analyzing Ghostface’s character after reading his tome in class 🤭🤭🤭

Spoiler Warning Ahead- Ghostface’s Archives

I’m not going to lie, I’m kind of a perfectionist. I’ve spent a while trying to analyze Ghostface and write him as closest to canon as possible lmfao- and this isn’t me trying to tell people how to write Ghostface..you can write him however you want, it’s just my interpretation…so yeah- Let me know if there’s anything I missed!

I- Daddy Issues + Origin

The only thing known about Danny’s family is his Father, who was also a murderer who loved to share horror stories, just like him.

His father was hard on him, told him terrifying stories of his kills, and was “as tough as nails” - and when your father is a serial killer, a man who’s already prone to lots of violence, you can guess the things he’s done to him

Still, Danny respected his father, but he did kill him, and his father was his first “design” - his first kill - and Danny felt ashamed of the way he killed him.

And for the nature v nurture debate for Danny, I guess we have an answer…both. Not only did he get his Homicidal tendencies from genetics, but his father literally taught him to kill too

Danny’s father affects his perspective greatly, especially how he views life and humanity, saying that humans are “intrinsic killers”

II- The Design + How Danny views murder

It’s easy to tell that Danny is a narcissist and a psychopath, I mean, he literally writes about his murders in the paper

He sees his murders as a story, a design, art, something to keep the suburban community aka the majority and the ordinary at unrest. He sees it as a favor, help keeping their lives interesting by scaring the shit out of them

Danny goes after the ordinary, someone most people can relate to, and someone who doesn’t deserve to die, because it makes it just the more terrifying

He follows his victims routines, plans out the murder in his head, pictures the kill, and the headlines he’ll write about it and then executes it

III- Personality + Pet Peeves

Danny is a perfectionist, but he also seems a little more restrained compared to the other dbd killers. He stalks his prey, holds back and plans his kill, waiting for the right moment…for the most part.

His “normal” personality- Jed is a charming and kind, but non-threatening presence and he knows he has to seem like that to avoid suspicion, duh, and easily manipulate people, so they’ll just be like “oh good old Jed, he wouldn’t hurt a fly” bullshit

But what really pisses Danny off when people don’t fear Ghostface, when they view him as an “urban legend” - OR when ordinary people or losers try to act like killers, like him (EX: “The three stooges” who talked about killing and had the pictures of killers up on the wall…killers that Danny admired and deemed “legends” and he went fucking crazy, stabbing one of the men in the face so many times that he was unrecognizable)

Danny wants people to take what he does seriously, he is aware of the impact of his actions, and what he’s doing, so if and when he finds out someone is laughing about it? Laughing at him? He gets pissed

So there are certain triggers that can make Danny snap, just like anyone else. But when he snaps…he becomes very violent, much more violent than usual

Because Danny takes his designs seriously, does this mean he’s a serious person? Not at all. He’s cruel, and taunts the men he kills in the arcade, and also the man he killed in the hardware store

He’s having a very fun time, as you can see here, humming to himself and doing his little taunting wave before he kills the poor man working at the register (RIP Cashier)

IV- Killing + Entity’s Favorite

Most of, if not all the things Danny does have to do with his design. He’s either writing, searching for his next victim, stalking his next victim, or killing

There’s not a lot of Danny’s life that doesn’t have to do with murder, especially since he was raised to be a killer

Which is why when he was a perfect candidate to be taken by The Entity. While some other killers have been brainwashed or turned into monsters, Danny’s mental state doesn’t change in the slightest, when you read the quotes of his add ons

In fact, he enjoys The Entity’s dimension. It’s a place where he can murder and stalk and do as he pleases, and doesn’t have to worry about getting caught or pretending to be normal. He can just be his murderous psycho self.

[phatcatphergus]

I'm sorry but your last few anon are taking the award show way to seriously

Quackity said this isn't community voting/competition.

Quackity didn't kick Tubbo out of the call; he couldn't join because of probably leaks, and he's doing a subathon. Quackity felt bad, and he said he should've been specific (which I agree, lol). For the record, Tubbo isn't mad at or taking it seriously.

You should have expected the award show to be scuffed; it's the first one. This isn't the Grammys, Emmys, Oscars, the streamer awards, etc. This award show is meant to be unserious. I can tell how much Tubbo was having fun, laughing, and not getting mad.

I understand you're mad, but at the same time, it doesn't matter who won/lost. At the end of the day, it's just an award show; it ain't that deep LMFAO

Okay well there’s a few thing here that I think we can agree on bc yes, it was a miscommunication and quackity didn’t kick Tubbo out of the call. People were upset at first because it seemed like a  hypocrisy to let pol in the call when he was streaming too. After everything was cleared up people were fine.

Also, I don’t think I saw anyone actively upset about how scuffed it was. People expect it for live productions and most people were just joking around about it. I think there could have been more testing done beforehand (I think quackity said that it was the first audio test) but overall I don’t think anyone had incredibly high standards for it either. This isn’t the streamer awards lol.

Now I also agree that the awards weren’t that deep. It’s a silly awards show and it doesn’t make or break anyone career. But no one was really angry at the awards show, they were angry at repeated behavior towards creators that don’t deserve it. It’s not hard to point out the sever lack of French representation, the lack of art for certain creators (some who play a shit ton more then other), and the lack of animatics that has become the standard for the qsmp at this point. The qsmp awards was just another arrow to the back of repeated negligence and disservice to creators that play the server every fucking day of their lives. BBH and tubbo haven’t stopped playing the server even when the eggs stopped logging on and both had trouble staying positive and inspired.

They also both defended the admins and purgatory, and were two of the few people who actually played purgatory as it was intended, only to be harassed and targeted by people. Which we later come to find may have been purposeful. Both BBH and Tubbo had incredibly involved and amazing lore that got one image in the museum while other people who played maybe once a week had 3. How was it that purgatory 2 had 5 members of the server actively participating but most of the clips were of the rats or cellbit and baghera who were on for one day after not playing for weeks?

So no, people weren’t necessarily mad about the awards themselves, it’s about a pattern of behavior that hasn’t changed in the slightest and continues to sideline some of the most active and supportive members of the server. If you want to see a more in depth look at the bias then this post lays out how many nominations people received.

[vashtijoy]

something i think about literally all the time is how goro's powers with loki are literally the opposite of what the phantom thieves do. the phantom thieves free people from their distorted desires. call of chaos either gives people the freedom to or forces them, depending on your perspective, into giving in to their distorted desires. he's such a good foil to them it makes me insane.

and by nature of what he's doing, it provides him yet another rationalization for what he's doing, because well, they *wanted* to do this anyway. these people already desired to hurt people, goro just gave them a little push. he's not making people do anything they didn't already want to do on some level. the fact that people have these desires in the first place proves the corruption of people and of society.

but the truth is that he is, just like the thieves are, brainwashing people to his own ends. he's doing the same thing they are but from the opposite direction. he's creating chaos by revealing the worst parts of society by forcing the dark underbelly to the surface, and he doesn't care because every time it works it proves him right that society is beyond saving. people don't deserve anything other than the chaos he creates.

Yesss. All of this. *armwaves* Oh, Akechi, my dude, my guy....

... you little hypocrite, lmfao.

Akechi 第一、人の心を無理やりねじ曲げるなんて、人間が一番やっちゃいけない事ですよ。 dai-ichi, hito no kokoro o muriyari nejimageru nante, ningen ga ichiban yaccha ikenai koto desu yo More importantly, you should never forcefully change a person's heart. [lit. Most of all, a thing like twisting somebody's heart out of shape by force - that's the thing that most of all, a person should never do.] Most importantly, twisting someone's heart out of shape to suit yourself is the worst thing you can do.

ねじ曲げる nejimageru suggests twisting something hard out of shape, like a pretzel is twisted. It's another word that can translate as "distorted", though it's not the yuganda of "distorted desires". And Akechi is emphatic—he says dai-ichi... ichiban yaccha ikenai koto: "most of all... that's the one thing you should never do".

But nothing he says here is in terms like "change of heart" that the PTs would recognise. Instead, Akechi is describing a violent assault, in terms that perhaps clarify a bit more of Ryuji's hostility.

He is, in fact, describing exactly what he, himself, does.

but in the third semester

Akechi: And you assume we'll buy into your brainwashing and just live in the palm of your hand? Akechi: Honestly, that sounds absolutely revolting.

Akechi obviously believes what he's saying in the third semester; his whole arc centres on it. Again, it's that freedom to be who you are, no matter the cost; to choose for yourself, without anyone twisting you out of shape, forcing you to act a certain way.

It's this parallel to the third semester that suggests Akechi means what he says on 6/10—that his objections to the PTs are real. Remember, he does tend not to lie outright—he prefers to find some way to use the truth. Which leaves us with a number of possibilities regarding how he rationalises that one:

he has other objections, such as the risk to his plan, the risk to the Metaverse, or the Metaverse belonging to him alone. For sure.

he doesn't care about his victims. Almost certainly.

he views it as something you should never do, and does it anyway. Almost certainly.

he views his victims (and anyone else affected) as deserving what they get. Likely.

he views Call of Chaos not as an attack, but as a liberation or a gift, as him just giving them what they want. At some level, IMO.

he views it as unfortunate but necessary collateral damage. Probably in the middle somewhere, but IMO not at the start, and not at this point.

"you should never do this to anybody" means, specifically, you should never do this to me—and probably not to Shido, either. Definitely IMO.

and lots more exciting, varied possibilities!

conclusions??

Call of Chaos really is so fascinating, in the way it's described as an unchaining, as being out of control; in the way it suggests Akechi may have started out thinking he was the only one without these repressed desires. Because no shadow, right?

Later on, I think he knows a bit better, and is probably a bit spooked at the idea of what the PTs could do to him. But he still views those distorted desires the PTs arbitrarily dispose of as inherent to who someone is: someone's right to choose badly is a core part of their right to choose at all.

He's probably not exactly wrong. It's just that actions have consequences. Or they ought to.

[youremyheaven]

https://www.tumblr.com/youremyheaven/753050746623262720/the-13-feminine-seduction-archetypes-quiz-women

150 questions is insane 😭😭 but i did it all anyway and im a kibbe r i think and honestly… something about this quiz healed me because there was one qns that asked if older women instinctively mother me nad i always felt not feminine again (oh oops hi im the anon that shares the same placements as your mother again 💗💗) and as a child i guess i was seen as very young and small and sweet and a nerd so it was easy for them to take care of me

but when i grew older i felt more out out of place and not as feminine or liked because older women wouldn’t instinctively take care of me the way they did with my other friends and such and i was always seen as more mature and capable of taking care of myself (internally im 8 years old though) and even when they kinda did it was awkward and i felt too much and out of place and it didnt always feel natural with most

when i was got the mother archetype i was kinda 🥹🥹 because ok maybe other older women might make me feel a little bad at times but maybe because im busy mothering others more

🥺🥺bestie

u over here having realisations upon realisations

Wait you're the Mother archetype, so are you a Sensualist?

Omg you being Venusian and a Kibbe Romantic IS SO PERFECT,, Venusians have the kind of fleshy boneless body that Kibbe Romantics are said to have (obviously not every Venusian will look like this tho)

In this video, Claire mentioned how Purvashadhas have a very soft curvy body but i think it broadly applies to all Venusians

I do think we switch roles throughout our lives and through different friend groups 🧐 I feel like I'm the more mature, big sister type friend among certain ppl but if you ask others, they'd say that im babie and I naturally switch to a more relaxed and annoying younger sibling vibe among them.

I think you just haven't met the kind of people who'd baby you tbh but I promise they're out there for sure!!! It's not some innate unworthiness, I just think it's a relationship dynamic thing tbh

Like there are people who believe I'm a highly serious, uptight, goody two shoes bc they've only ever seen me like that and our dynamic is such that I can never let loose around them??? But there are others who are genuinely surprised that I have brain cells at all. One time I called a friend of mine for help with something and he started describing everything in such micro detail like he was talking to a 5yr old (not patronizing or anything, just genuinely breaking things down in the simplest way) and I'm like damn wow he really gets me bc i genuinely wouldn't understand any of this otherwise lmfao 😭😭😭 some people overestimate my abilities when even if I look put together, I still could use their help lmao

I hope you mother others but also get to relax and be babied bc u deserve it 🥰✨

I'll call you Mother anon now bc you share placements with my mom AND it's your archetype hehe 🤭😂

[alaskan-wallflower]

Why did that Anon even compare Brody to Joshua having a kid??! Also is that even true because if that’s not public knowledge what an awful thing to do. There’s a reason Joshua Boone doesn’t have social media. I will never understand this fandom’s obsession with knowing every little detail of this casts private life outside the show. Brody has missed maybe 3 shows in the past month……. Like that’s not that much at all. And every single cast member deserves time off if they feel they need to miss a show or 2! Ponyboy is literally onstage for pretty much the whole show!

that’s what i’m saying like i was considering bringing it up like how do they know he has a kid 😭😭 he’s a private person anyway? like?? how do they know that lmfao that’s not public knowledge. anyway it’s stupid to compare people’s absences. like not discrediting any other character because they’re really hard roles to play but like you said, ponyboy is onstage through the whole play???? like huh?

also that anon message made no sense because they started by bitching about the fact brody missed shows but then they started bitching at me for saying it’s good he seems to be enjoying his job again lmfao-also i hope that anon comes back because i’m curious. how do you know josh has a kid since it’s not public knowledge? im pretty sure it’s just the same people on tiktok who seem to have no problem with body shaming him and whatnot. i’m pretty sure i know who that anon is anyway since a few weeks back they decided to ty to fight me about certain things and they’re the only person on this site who seems so anti brody.

also yeah. it’s weird how people want to know every bit of info about these people’s lives. it’s the worst in this fandom. ive never seen a fandom this hellbent on dissecting people’s personal lives. also brody is very good at listening to his body. and if he’s listening to his body and his body is telling him he can’t do the show he’s allowed to miss a show. these people are so entitled to think brody isn’t allowed to miss a show. it’s the same thing with the people who bitch about sky. like stop? the cast missing a show is no one’s business like goodbye. these people are so funny because they stay on anon to send me these hate filled messages because they know i don’t give a shit and i will tear them to shreds because they are CREEPS.

again i’m not saying you have to like him. but don’t be rude to me about it. it’s so easy to just not say the shit these people say to me lmfao-not to bring it up again but why am i the only person that these people go to about hating brody? i’m not the only one on here who supports him so why do i have to deal with all the hate towards him which in turn leads to people bitching to me?

anyway. sorry i complain but i just needed to vent that out. anti brody anon, that’s kinda weird that you’re comparing brody to someone who has a kid…and also how do you know josh has a kid? it’s not public knowledge as far as i know. and that’s creepy. also i hope that the prev anon (not you anon but the other anon) comes back. dm me. send me another ask. i fucking dare you.