#did I proofread this at all?

[zevrra]

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

synop: (this is the final part to this series) ; you somehow manage to take on both viktor and jayce inside the lab.

wc: 2k

includes: smüt(ns//fw), fem!reader, threësome, fïngering, ëdging, v peneträtion, double v peneträtion, semi-public sëx, dirty talk

extra: make sure to read part 1 & 2 as well!! thank you all for the love and support on this <33

“shit.” jayce groans at the sight of you. neither he nor viktor could argue against your wishes when you looked so damn good like that, begging for them both. you watch as both of them blush a soft red before both nodded in agreement. “it’ll take some…time.” jayce adds with a slight gesture to his own twitching cöck; pride and worry in his tone.

but none of that mattered. you said what you said and you’d live up to it. “don’t care. i want you both.”

and he wasn’t kidding when he said it would take some time.

after what feels like an eternity of jayce fingering you, stretching you out, drawing you closer and closer to a second orgasm only to rip his fingers away from you, you’re beginning to fear you might lose your mind. you sit in his lap, as he’s returned to sitting on top of the desk, with your legs spread open wide for all to see. and if you were in any other state of mind, you might have been a little embarrassed about being so exposed. but not now, now you were simply dumbed down with pleasure as jayce’s hand sneaks its way back to your aching pussy.

“no more.” you weep, tensing up as his fingers press back into your core. he easily slides three fingers clean up until the second knuckle inside of you.

“sorry pretty, gotta make sure you can take us both.” jayce mumbles softly into your hair, almost apologetically but he’s not really that sorry. he’s not sorry at all, especially when his fingers slip oh-so-easily inside of you and the noises he forces out of you and your soaking cunt. listening to you moan while your core makes the most embarrassing, wet noises; oh no it turned him and viktor on extremely.

viktor stands between your thighs then, kissing the top of your head as he presses two of his own fingers inside you, sliding right up against jayce’s fingers and stretching you even further. “you were the one who begged for both of us, weren’t you?” vik hums in a teasing tone, a smile on his face. he flexes his fingers inside of you, just about the same time jayce does and it would have pissed you off how in sync they were but the mind numbing pleasure shut you up far too quickly.

“just a little more.” jayce encourages sweetly, placing a kiss against your head.

you whine in response to both of them, panting heavily as their fingers begin to work faster inside of you. they both finger you in turn, matching each other’s pace effortlessly, as they stretch you more and more. jayce’s fingers push deep, viktor’s pulls out, jayce slips his fingers out, viktor pushes his right back in. back and forth they work on your cunt until you’re growing hotter. lava burns in your lower abdomen and in your thighs and it makes you fidget against jayce’s lap. you whine at the tight feeling at your core, begging for any kind of release. and as the tightness grows closer and closer, you get louder and louder with each press of the fingers inside of you. the threat of coming again makes your toes curl, back arching, fingers gripping into the closest arm you can grab onto as your orgasm burns in your lower half.

but just like the several times before, the two men remove their fingers just at the last second. your orgasm threatens to break open the floodgates but is quickly retreating at the loss of stimulation and the edging leaves you gasping while tears cling to your eyelashes. “‘ts enough! i can’t take it anymore!” you plead.

jayce returns to placing soft kisses wherever he can reach while his hands smooth along your arms and the rest of your body. “you did amazing.” he praises, adjusting your body as he speaks, so now you can fully lean your weight back against him. hands sliding under your thighs and keeping your legs open for the next part to come. “viktor, give her what she wants.“

you could almost weep at his words but instead you nod as quickly as you can. “please.”

“mhm darling.” viktor softly hums in response to your begging. one of his hands presses against jayce’s knee as he angles himself right up against your core. his other hand wraps around his overly aching cock, giving it a swift tug with a low groan, before he’s pressing forward. the tip of his pink head slides easily against your wet cunt; and he slides even easier inside of your waiting body.

you tighten at the intrusion but quickly welcome it as viktor bottoms out. his hips press against your own as he slips his cock all the way inside you, reaching deeper than their fingers could have and it makes you cry with relief. “yes! god, yes.” you groan as you take all of viktor with ease.

who in turn mimics your groan at the warmth wrapped around him. he braces himself completely down onto jayce’s thighs now, forcing himself to still for a moment. “shit...” viktor comments with a whine before he slowly pulls out, his pretty eyes never leaving where the two of you connect, staring as he disappears once again inside of you. and he whimpers when he bottoms out for the second time.

you can’t help but chuckle a little at his fixation on your bodies meshing together. you reach with a gentle hand and caress the side of his face and he melts into your touch, glancing up at you while his hips begin to move ever so slightly. “you ok?” you ask sweetly, thumb rubbing across the high of his cheekbone.

“i am better than okay.” viktor replies with a small smile. the pupils of his eyes are wide upon looking up at your mutually red face and you manage a weak smile right back at him.

“c’mere. you’re making me feel so good.” you hum and your words make his hips stutter. he moves just a little faster, leaning forward with your guiding hand to allow both of you to kiss. and you kiss him oh so sweetly. your tongue running across his bottom lip and he gladly matches your movement while he keeps his pace thrusting inside of you.

jayce bites down on your shoulder, not to hurt you or anything, just to get your attention as you and viktor share a heated kiss. “don’t forget about me…” he mutters, pouting as he shifts his hips to press his own angry red head against your body.

you gasp softly at the thick of his tip pressing into your skin, causing you to briefly break the kiss with viktor to glance over your shoulder at the pouting man. “well, come on then. make me feel good too.” you tell jayce and it’s all he needs to hear before his hand slips from the back of your thigh to wrap around his thick cock, pressing the head right up against where viktor steadily fucks into you. you return to kissing viktor, eating up every whimper and groan the other man lets loose into your mouth.

jayce times everything else perfectly. as viktor pulls out, jayce rushes inside. his thick cock spears you deeper than vik’s had and you hate to say it but thank fuck for all the prepping jayce had insisted on. he slips deep inside and before you can fully adjust to his size alone, viktor is slipping himself right back inside of you; right next to jayce.

to say you’re stuffed full is an understatement. they both sit deep inside of you, moving just enough to continue to stretch you further now that they’ve managed to fit inside. you can’t help but cry into vik’s mouth, and it’s his turn to eat up every noise you make. and just like with their fingers before, the two fall into a perfect rhythm. viktor dives in, jayce slips out, viktor presses back inside; the combo leaves you breathless.

jayce’s hands return to your thighs as he ruts inside of you, messy but he makes up for it with his girth while viktor places perfectly angled thrusts into every sensitive bit inside your throbbing pussy. you break the kiss with a sharp cry as the two continue, hearing vik whimper at how much tighter you must feel now. meanwhile jay is in your ear grunting harshly with each thrust. “fuck.” he groans, hips never faltering as pleasure takes hold of him while he slips and slides right up against viktor. his nose digs into the crook of your neck and he practically pants against you, fingers tightening on your thighs.

you can’t even respond. words are nonexistent to you anymore as you’re split in half with both men fucking you; and all you can do is weep with pleasure. your orgasm is quick to build up again, it doesn’t take much now anyway, as the burn returns inside of your lower half. viktor presses his head against your other shoulder and somehow the two know to turn and place kisses against your throat. you were definitely going to be sore tomorrow but would need a damn turtleneck at this point too…you can’t complain though.

“going to…” viktor whispers against your neck and you nod in agreement. you were also getting closer and closer to the edge of your orgasm too.

doesn’t help when jayce suddenly ups his speed and deepens his thrusts, throwing both you and viktor into a spiraling mess. “j-jayce!” you cry, his fingers tightening again against your thighs as he practically piledrives inside of you, wildly thrusting against viktor as well.

“can’t last.” jayce grunts, burying his nose as deep as he can into your neck once more. “finish together.” he adds with a deep groan.

viktor is the first to lose himself. he slips out, whimpering, thrusting into his hand to finish himself off across your hip. you, mere seconds after vik, finish with jayce still pounding into you. he fucks you through your orgasm as it crashes down on you like a wave. you try to form any semblance of words but nothing slips past your lips besides pathetic whines. and with you squeezing tight around jayce through your much needed orgasm, it brings him into his own. his hips stutter harshly a few more times inside your spent pussy before he’s slipping out of you, quickly fucking the rest of his climax out against his hand, roping every last drop out onto your thigh and hip.

after his finish, all three of you return to mostly silence then, the lab being filled with nothing but your shared heavy breaths in the wake of your orgasms. you slump against jayce as viktor leans against you, running a hand to smooth through viktor’s hair as you all try and collect yourselves. and to think this all happened because you were too impatient to wait for nightfall. the thought put a small smile on your lips.

“gods. i need a shower.” you cut through the silence, smiling fondly as both jayce and viktor manage weak laughs. “but i don’t think i’ll be walking for a little while.” you add as you semi stretch out along jayce’s strong lap, soreness already settling into your hips.

as if sudden dots are connected, both men realize that they’ve completely—for lack of better words—soiled you; covered in their sticky mess during the midst of their highs. viktor scrambles to find something to clean you up with as jayce shifts and adjusts you onto the desk he previously had been sitting on to help in the search with viktor. shamefully, they come up with nothing besides jayce’s large shirt and he tries cleaning you up the best he can with it.

meanwhile, you try your best not to laugh as he forfeits up his clothes, staining his shirt with the mess he and viktor shared. you watch with soft eyes as jayce cleans you up while vik dresses himself, handing you jayce’s jacket to semi cover yourself with. “next time…let’s use a bed. and be closer to a proper bath.” you hum ’innocently’.

with both men staring at you with shocked faces, you’re unable to hold back anymore; you break out into laughter as viktor and jayce both chirp a surprise; “next time?“

[rinneverse]

cw a little suggestive towards the end, mdni please and ty :)

alhaitham is the type to seethe quietly in his jealousy.

he’s not outwardly possessive—no, because he lets the stranger talk to you—his pretty girlfriend—about his thesis plans, about his academic feats, and you sit there with a smile plastered on your face, nodding your head as you listen to him prattle on and on and on.

alhaitham nearly bends the book in his hand into pieces with what he claims is annoyance. not possessiveness, no, that was out of character. he was just… annoyed, that this random man had the gall to interrupt his reading session with you.

that’s what he tells himself, at least.

of course, how was he supposed to know you were dating the akademiya scribe, when alhaitham was possibly the most low-key person ever? the two of you were quiet about your relationship, content to share it between yourselves. only your close friends really knew the extent of how deep your “friendship” with the scribe went.

as soon as the man leaves (not without leaving his number for you, of course), and the two of you are blanketed in the quiet murmurs of the akademiya library, alhaitham sets his book down. he turns to you.

he finds you staring at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. alhaitham tilts his head, all feline grace, his eyes narrowing into slits as he asks, “what?”

you shake your head mirthfully, crumpling up the slip of paper in your hand and tossing it into the nearest bin. alhaitham feels his shoulders un-tense just a fraction at the sight.

“nothing,” you say, but alhaitham knows you’re lying.

so he leans closer to you, grasping your chin in his hand as he tilts your head back and forces your gaze to meet his.

“liar. what is it?”

you smile. wide and wider it grows, and you reach a hand up to brush alhaitham’s cheek. he barely suppresses a shudder at the gentle touch.

“i didn’t think you to be the jealous type.”

“i’m not.”

“then what was that all about?” you hum. you’re… amused by this. amused by him grappling with his emotions. alhaitham feels his lips twitch downward.

if you didn’t know any better, he would appear to just be frowning. but you did… and it was like he was pouting. you giggle.

“i am annoyed,” alhaitham says, stressing the last word, “that we were interrupted by a stranger. nothing more.”

“nothing more?” you parrot, your eyes gleaming with amusement. “sure. and i’m the grand sage.”

alhaitham bites his tongue, pulling his hand away from your chin. his fingers flex—he has to stamp down on his self-control. being found in a compromising position in the library would surely wreck the both of your social statuses.

but the thrill of it… seeing you bent over the table, utterly wrecked under the careful ministrations of his hands—getting to mark his claim on you...

he quickly shakes the dangerous train of thought away.

“do you want to go home?” you suddenly ask, a coy smile dancing on your lips. he must have been obvious where his line of thinking was going, if you managed to catch on that quickly. the grin on your face tells him that you did.

alhaitham pretends to ponder it. grabs the book he set down, turns it over in his hands, then shrugs.

“sure. kaveh shouldn’t be home for another few hours.”

his voice was bedroom-soft, and the tone in which he said it—nearly purring—has heat pooling in your core.

“alright. let’s go?”

he wordlessly rises, holding out his hand for you. there’s a small part of him that feels a maddening satisfaction when you let out a pleased hum, followed by a surprised yelp as he gracefully slides an arm around you.

someone nearby makes a “shh” noise, and he completely ignores it. you giggle out an apology.

it was utterly unlike him, he thinks, as he guides you through the library with his arm wrapped around your waist, slowly moving to rest his hand on the small of your back when the two of you exit the library.

maybe he’ll try being more public in his attention to you. that would most certainly keep this from happening again.

[lightseoul]

you're losing me

synopsis. bakugou proposes to you. you give him an unexpected response.

cw. gn!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged up (28 yrs old), some cussing

word count. 2.5k words

“Where is everybody?”

You ask as you look around the barren restaurant, which, on most days, is jampacked with high-profile customers. How Bakugou was able to get you both a table is beyond you.

“Don’t mind ‘em,” he says before dipping down to finish the rest of his soup. “They’re just a bunch of extras anyway.”

You merely hum in response.

A moment passes with the both of you finishing your appetizers when a question dawns on you.

“By the way,” you start, “what’s the occasion, Kats?”

At that, he frowns. “What, you’re saying I can’t treat my partner whenever I feel like it?”

You snort. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that we don’t usually opt for extremely overpriced restaurants.”

You gesture to your evening gown and his suit. “We don’t usually dress up either.”

“Yeah, well. Just go with it, okay?”

You stare at him for a beat before deciding to let it go.

“Okay.”

You’re down to the last bite of your dessert when Bakugou clears his throat. You look up, only to be met with the familiar expression of nervousness decorating his features.

It’s how he looked at you back when he first asked you out three years ago.

“You alright?” you ask.

He nods, “Peachy. Just need to tell you something.”

Almost instantaneously, your heart picks up its pace. You brace yourself for bad news.

“What is it?”

At your query, Bakugou suddenly stands up and circles your table, stopping right in front of you.

And before you could even comprehend what’s happening, he’s already on one knee, holding a small velvet box.

“Y/N.”

At the mention of your name, your heart doubles up its pace.

He continues, but your head is pulsing and your ears throbbing so loudly that you can barely make out the speech he’s currently giving you. You feel lightheaded, as well as the tears welling up in your eyes, clouding your vision.

He sounds uncharacteristically shy when he finally says, “Will you marry me?”

That’s the last thing you hear before you black out.

You’re met with a blinding white light when you come to.

You strain to sit up in order to look around, the movement causing Bakugou, who is on a stool beside your bed, to stir awake.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Take it easy.”

Robbed of all words, you nod, taking heed and slowly lifting yourself up into a seated position.

“Where am I?” you ask.

“The nearest hospital from the restaurant,” he explains. “You fainted.”

“Seriously?”

He nods, face stern. “Thankfully I was able to catch you before your head could hit the ground. We just need to run a few more tests before you get cleared for discharge.”

And with that, the elephant in the room remains as evident as ever.

“Look, Kats,” you start, “about earlier—”

“Let’s not talk about it right now,” he cuts you off. “Come on, let’s get you ready for discharge.”

You barely catch him before he goes to work the next day.

Bakugou’s not a morning person—you found out about that a week into dating him when you noticed how curt his messages were in the mornings—yet he’s now up at 6:24 AM, darting in and out of the rooms in your shared apartment, getting ready for the day.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s rushing to leave.

“You’re awake,” you say lamely as you enter the living room.

He grunts in response, attention directed to the duffel bag he always brings to the office on patrol days.

You want to ask him why he’s up this early, but ultimately decide against it. Instead, you say: “Did you pack your lunch already?”

“Yeah,” he gestures to his bag, “It’s in here.”

“Okay.”

You stand awkwardly by the door as you watch him zip his bag and adjust his civilian clothes that would be swapped in for his winter costume later.

He then walks up to you and presses a kiss on your forehead—so tentatively it makes you ache.

Since when did he get so hesitant with you?

“I’ll go then,” he announces.

And before you know it, the front door shuts, his perfume leaving a nostalgic fragrance in its trail.

Only then do you realize that I love you’s were not exchanged.

The days after are unremarkably the same.

He’s been getting up extra early so that by the time you wake up, he’s already on his way to the agency.

On top of that, he’s starting to work overtime now, too.

Lately, he’s been arriving home as late as almost midnight.

You try to wait up for him—you really do—but with your own work to get to the following mornings, you just couldn’t sustain that arrangement.

And so you rarely see him.

But to your relief, despite everything that’s gone wrong with Bakugou since the night he proposed, you still fall on the same bed at the end of the day.

Albeit his back is turned against you. Still, you’re grateful. There’s a certain comfort that blankets you whenever you’re near Bakugou, and that hasn’t changed one bit.

Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you mirror him, your back now facing his.

Which is why you don’t notice it until you hear a gasp.

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you look at Bakugou, who’s now sitting upright, chest heaving.

Quickly, you rouse yourself, facing him. “What’s wrong?”

He inhales deeply as his eyes dart towards you, beads of sweat now decorating his forehead.

“Nightmare,” he croaks.

At that, you grab his ice-cold hands, squeezing them in yours. “Do you want to talk about it?”

A beat passes before he reluctantly shakes his head. “It’s just the usual.”

The usual. Being held hostage by that monster, getting kidnapped, being responsible for All Might’s—

“It doesn’t matter if it’s new or not,” you retort, squeezing his hands again in an attempt to anchor him to reality. “I’m here to listen, alright?”

Bakugou hesitates for a second before nodding, a pained expression written across his face.

He starts to lean in closer, probably to drop his head at the crook of your neck like he usually does when plagued with nightmares, before hesitating and leaning back.

“Okay.”

The next morning, you wake up not only to an empty bed, but an empty house.

Still half asleep, you trudge your way toward the kitchen, where a bento box is sitting on the island. On top of it is a sticky note that reads:

Going out w the guys after shift. Don’t wait up.

Your heart sinks at the thought of not being able to see Bakugou for the day.

Still, maybe he needs this night out.

You wouldn’t want to spend time with the person who rejected you either.

With a heavy heart, you get ready for the day yourself.

Work is the least of your concerns this morning, but you figure you have to go. You could use some distraction to take your mind off your crumbling relationship.

You’re in your bed reading that non-fiction you’ve been putting off for a while now when your phone rings.

You reach for your phone, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Kirishima’s caller ID.

Huh.

You press the green button after a few seconds of letting it ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N!” a cheery voice greets you. “This is Kirishima.”

“Hey, Ei,” you start, weirdly nervous. “How are you and the rest of the squad?”

“Actually, that’s why I called you. Can you pick Bakugou up? He’s so drunk.”

Your Katsuki? Drunk?

For some reason, the idea of talking to a drunk Bakugou, who also happens to be the bluntest version of himself, elicits an unpleasant feeling in your gut.

“Really?” you ask, voice small. “How much did he drink?”

“Not a lot, but the alcohol percentage of the ones he downed are pretty high.”

When you don’t respond for a while, he pipes up with: “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Kirishima sounds unsure when he asks, “Is everything okay with you guys?”

“Yes, Ei.” No, Ei. I inadvertently rejected his marriage proposal.

“Okay, that’s good to hear,” he starts. “It’s just that he barely mentioned you when he was still sober—which is a rare occurrence, if you only knew. He only started calling for you when he was three glasses in.”

Despite yourself, your stomach flips in delight. He’s still thinking about me, you think to yourself.

“Anyway, as I was saying, are you good to fetch him?”

“Yes,” you stand up and grab for your keys. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

You’re situating the car in your designated parking space when Bakugou finally stirs awake.

Once you’re parked, you turn off the engine before you reach over the console to unfasten his seatbelt. Yours follows shortly after.

You look at him, whose eyes are still closed.

“We’re here, Kats.”

At the sound of your voice, his eyes shoot open and he examines his environment, alarmed. Once he catches sight of you, though, he visibly relaxes.

Only to straighten up in his seat, stiff and unable to look you in the eye.

“You didn’t have to, uh,” he stammers, struggling to formulate coherent sentences. “Get me. You didn’t have to get me.”

You shoot him a small smile. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, eyes trained on your car’s windshield.

A moment passes before he speaks again.

“My mom made me do it, you know.”

You stare at his side profile. “Made you do what?”

“Propose to you.”

“Oh.”

He shakes his head, almost in disagreement. “The old hag really wants me to get married. I told her we didn’t have to get married because we’re happy the way things are and that shit is just for formality. Told me I’d be missing out on you wearing a wedding dress.”

You snort, “That’s what convinced you to ask me?”

He grins. “Nah. I just realized I wanted to get married if it was to you.”

Before you can even react, Bakugou shifts in his seat, breaking eye contact.

“It was stupid of me, though.”

Your stomach drops in anticipatory dread. “Stupid of you to what?”

He chuckles, although he seems anything but happy. “Was stupid of me to think someone like you would say yes to someone like me.

“I—” he stutters, “I wouldn’t marry me either.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs, “Just…who the fuck do I think am, proposing to you? I was a horrible person who fucked things up so many times growing up. Maybe this is karma biting me back in the ass.”

“Katsuki.”

“You can do way be—”

“Katsuki!”

He jerks his head to face you, bewildered and eyes glassy.

You reach over the console to hold his scarred hand, staring him down.

“Look at me.”

He does so.

“You’re not that person anymore, alright?” You squeeze his hand, “Please don’t do this to yourself.”

Under the intensity of your gaze, Bakugou can only nod in affirmation before you engulf him in your first hug in what feels like weeks.

“Come on,” you say when you finally part, “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

Bakugou sleeps like a baby by your side that night. Meanwhile, you stay up until the wee hours of the morning, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

He thinks you don’t want to marry him.

Your heart aches at the very thought of him grappling with the most false of all statements.

You want to marry him, you really do, but all your fears suddenly rose to the surface and enveloped you the second he went on one knee.

And that’s what you’re planning to confess to him tonight.

You wait, wrapped in the thickest jacket you own, seated on the bench for Bakugou to come. You left him a note alongside his bento box earlier this morning—a note that says to meet you at the indicated address.

Lost in your thoughts and in your internal monologue, you startle when somebody sits next to you.

You look to your right, only to see Bakugou in his thickest jacket, a gray beanie covering his ash blonde locks, cheeks pink from the cold.

“Do you remember this place?” you ask, voice quiet.

He scoffs, “Of course I do, dumbass.”

At that, you chuckle. “This is where we had our first date.”

He grunts in agreement. He doesn’t say anything after that.

A few seconds pass before he finally pipes up with: “So why did you bring me here?”

Your heart’s pace quickens at the query.

You gulp, although your voice still ends up shaky. “I wanted to apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

You shake your head, “You don’t understand.”

He chuckles, that same one that translates to anything but happiness. “I think I do. You don’t want to marry me, I get it.”

“No,” you say, voice louder. “I want to marry you.”

At your admission, Bakugou turns to look you in the eye. The hopeful expression on his face is staggering, you want to curl up into a ball and cry. “What?”

“I said,” you repeat, “I want to marry you.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Then why have you been acting like you don’t?”

At his question, you can’t help but clench your eyes closed. This is too much, you think to yourself, but you owe Bakugou the truth.

“I’m just scared, Kats. Truly. I—” you stammer, “I just can’t shake off the fear of losing you one day. And I know your capabilities and I know how hard you work. Just that—I don’t know. The fear of seeing you killed one day is paralyzing.”

Bakugou reaches out to you, and you let him wipe away the tears that are now falling down your cheeks.

“I’m scared, too,” he offers. “But I don’t know.”

He shakes his head, “I’m more scared of not being with you.”

At his confession, you can’t help but smile. “I think that’s how I feel, too.”

You rest your head on Bakugou’s shoulder, your hand in his. You stay like that for a few minutes before you pull away and turn to regard him again.

“Can we start over?” you ask, “I want to propose to you soon.”

Bakugou smirks, nothing but elation on his face. He takes your other hand and squeezes it.

“Not if I propose to you first.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

as always, reblogs, comments, and tags are appreciated <3

[lostinmycolor]

"darling," he whispers, ever so softly, the rasp in his voice reverberating through you and making you shiver. he chuckles silently at the little squeaks that leave your lips whenever your hips slam down on his cock as you look down at him with those pretty eyes of yours. for some reason, whenever he looks into them, they remind him of the stars he was so close to once upon a time. something that should be a bad memory but really isn't because you make it more nostalgic, in some kind of mysterious way. you almost make him miss it.

your hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin in a way that should be painful, but instead just makes everything feel ten times better. he has a hand on your hip, gripping it firmly, his fingers forming slight dents in your skin. his free hand is wandering over your body, moving up from your clit to your tits, pinching your sensitive buds. he swears he's falling even more in love with you when you toss your head back and let out a long whine of pleasure when he does so. you look so beautiful.

how are you even real? he wonders. he's never had eyes for anyone the way he has eyes for you. he's seen and experienced so many beautiful things, explored so many different worlds in his dreams, in his past lives, but none of them compare to you. anything in any universe that is considered beautiful is nothing when it comes to you.

the way you moan his name is like the strings that play in his mind when he's feeling the rush of his highs, but somehow you're always able to make them sound like a beautiful symphony instead of just a jumble of noise like it used to be, before you. he wonders what type of magic you hold inside of you that makes you capable of making even the ugliest and most broken of things look so beautiful. he notices your legs are giving up on you and smiles at how endearing it is, the fact that you're practically struggling, but you need him so badly you're doing everything you can to keep up your movements. his hand grips your hip tighter, almost enough to bruise your skin, and he moves his free hand to your lower back to help you keep your balance.

he wonders, for a moment, if he knew you in the past life, or all those years ago. he can't really remember since it's been so long, and the memories of when he was cast out of heaven clouded his brain. but it's almost as if he can see for a brief second, something otherworldly when he looks at you, the way your skin glows with splendor when your back arches as you cum on his cock. for a moment it's like you're a real life angel right in front of him, it's such a sight to behold. was god testing him? were you sent to him as a lesson in disguise? would you be gone as soon as this was all over? whatever it was, he didn't care, as long as he got to feel you as close as possible even if you turned out to not be real when he opened his eyes again.

it's almost a relief when he does and he sees you there, still on top of him, panting heavily, eyes hooded, hair sticking to your face. a beautiful mess. the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. he's so in love with you. he reaches up to brush your hair off of your damp cheeks, smiling and delicately taking your chin to make you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, the way you lean down to kiss him and smile against his lips making everything feel a little more real.

more real and alive, he thinks. he's never felt more alive than when he sees you like this—beautiful and wild and messy in all the right ways, all for him, because of him. there was nothing better than being able to love you in such a pure way, without repercussion, no matter how terrifying it was, because you remind him of himself before everything. before the jealousy and fury, before he fell from heaven and got his wings stripped from his back, before he was disowned by god himself. the fallen angel was redeemed from the depths of hell and found his heaven in your embrace, in your eyes, in you. you're everything he's ever wanted.

[diorgirl444]

From one matt dilly girl to another...🤨

cowboy!dallas how do we feel

Like full on texan accent omggg- 🤭🤭

you get it oh my godddddd. maybe bcs i’m english but this is so mouthwatering to me i can’t even lie to you!!! so much that i’ve written a few cutesy lil hcs for it xxx

cowboy! dallas winston x farmer’s daughter! reader

warnings: bad writing! (girlies i’ve never kissed anyone or flirted so my expression only comes from writing fanfiction so it may not be the most realistic i’m afraid), fem! reader, very self indulgent, unspecified time period. poor understanding of american history i’m english please go easy on me, idk how many words <3

• okay so i see your cowboy! dallas winston and i raise you runaway outlaw! dallas winston posing as a farmhand on reader’s family farm

• i’m thinking he’s an outlaw because after getting in a fight with his alcoholic father he ran away with their horse and in order to survive he stole from carriages and things. a regular billy the kid you know?

• except it’s not easy for a seventeen year old out on his lonesome on all that land and with the law looking for you. but he has no choice so he keeps running till he reaches a farm far, far out west. that night he is so, so tired that he hides in their barn planning to wake up early so he doesn’t get caught.

• but he hasn’t been able to sleep properly in days so he fully crashes. he wakes up that morning with a girl leaning over him pressing her cool hand to his forehead, the sunlight from the open barn makes her hair like a halo and she’s in a beautiful white nightdress and so he briefly wonders if he’s died and she’s one of heavens angels.

• the allusion shatters when she’s realised he’s woken and she calls “daddy he’s alive!” and then his eyes widen and he realises there’s a whole family crowded around him. he excepts to be shouted, to be threatened maybe even hit but instead the wrinkled old man who he assumes is the father of the house says in a gruff but not unkind voice “you got a place to stay son?”

• dallas is vaguely aware that he doesn’t know these people that they could report him to their nearest sheriff or worse eat him or something gruesome like that. but something about the apple cheeked girl, the twin little boys in mismatched plaid and the kind eyes in the wrinkled faces of the parents has him feeling at ease and so he admits “no sir”

• the mother nudges her husband who nods before speaking “well sonny you’re in luck. i’m in need of a farmhand. can’t pay ya but i can offer ya food and board for you and that horse of yours. does that sound like a deal boy?” dallas nods, hardly believing his luck.

• the girl smiles widely and softly whispers to him “i told daddy we should keep you” he decides not to tell her that she could keep him forever if she wanted. maybe it’s a bit early for that yet.

• he falls into a routine pretty quickly at the farm. he does all the hard labour that the father of the house is too old to do now like cutting firewood or rounding the cattle up. he always catches sight of the girl picking fresh fruit and prancing around the farm in her cute little cowboy boots and his heart aches.

• what he doesn’t know is the parents have noticed the way him and their daughter look at each other or ankles press together under the table so they’re always trying little things to get them together. like sending her out to give him glasses of sweet iced tea or getting him to ride their horses with her.

• it finally happens though late one hot august evening. the farm is lazy for a change with most people napping trying to beat the heat. she’s eating cherries and staining lips and hands on the porch swing whilst intently a very sweaty shirtless dallas work on the farm.

• he catches her looking and grins saying “you know what they say about cherry stems?” she shakes her head, batting her lashes at him absentmindedly and he seems to grin even wider.

• “well if you can tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. means you’re a good kisser” his honeyed southern tone drawls out.

• almost in a trance she hands him a cherry stem and flushes bright red when he cockily sticks his tongue out flashing the knotted up cherry stem. “my turn” she tells him trying to distract herself from the growing butterflies in her stomach.

• “nah doll i got another way to check for you” before she can ask what is, he’s leaning over the porch railings and kissing her. she eagerly kissed him back letting her cherry stained fingers grab onto his hair and he’s groaning slightly against his lips. they probably would of gone further has it not been for the cough behind them.

• they awkwardly pull away, her with red cheeks and dallas with red ears and they meet her fathers gaze “happy to see you two finally pulled it together but if you’re gonna act like dogs in heat do that where the lord can’t see you, hm kids?” he gives them a knowing smile as he walks off.

• and well they listen to him and disappear off the barn hand in hand just as they one day will leave the local chapel dressed in white….

[buckymorelikefuckme]

so while sitting at the golf range, i saw a man walk by with his dog—a dilf type of man—and it got me thinking…

ari levinson x fem reader

idk the word count bc i wrote it on here but it’s not too long, i promise! **18+ ONLY** for implied size kink and mentions of praise kink and illusions to filthy thoughts ok thank ♡

you huff and stomp your foot after swinging and missing the ball, yet again. why is golf so hard? and why is the ball so tiny? it hardly seems fair to have a club that long and such a small target to hit.

you try to focus and remember what little you learned before coming to the range, but it’s sweltering out and you’re frustrated, so all you want to do is throw your club as far as possible. at least then you’d get something on the green.

someone clears their throat from behind you.

“what?” you snap as you spin on your heel, the glare you had ready to aim at the person smoothing out quickly once you see them.

it’s a man, tall and broad and tanned and very shirtless, torso glistening with sweat amidst the hair on his chest. his shaggy hair is tied back messily and his cheeks are ruddy beneath his beard from the heat.

“hi,” the man greets with a grin that has your tummy fluttering. “i was walking by,” he continues, waving at the sidewalk several yards away (which is another thing—what’s with golf courses being in the middle of neighborhoods?!) and you feel slight shame at having been caught throwing a fit. “saw you were having some trouble and thought maybe i could offer my help.”

you bite your lip. “that’s kind of embarrassing,” you mumble.

he shrugs. “everyone has to start somewhere.”

and that’s… actually very true and also terribly kind of him to say, so you agree to let him give you some pointers. he tries by just telling you how to fix your stance and your grip, all from a respectable distance, even going as far as showing you by mimicking it and how to follow through on your swings. but after you still keep missing the ball entirely or only hitting it a few feet and veering sharply to the right, he clicks his tongue, pursing his lips in thought.

“would you be okay if i show you in a more, uh, hands on way?” he asks.

you simply shake your head in response, because if you opened your mouth right now you’d probably start begging, and not just for golfing tips.

he approaches calmly, stepping up behind you. his body heat in proximity to yours doesn’t help with the summer sun beating down on both of you, but you can’t find it in you to really complain, especially as you hear him take a breath before he finally wraps his toned arms around you.

“left hand here,” he instructs, voice low in your ear, “right hand below it, yes, there you go. keep this arm straight, okay? like this.”

he does a few fake swings with you, his hands wrapped around yours. it’s damn near impossible to pay attention, but you’re really trying your best. mostly.

“okay, now, keep your eyes on the ball when you swing. don’t look out to where you want it go, just keep looking down at the ball. alright?”

you turn your head, looking up and meeting his eyes and your breath hitches when you exhale. he’s so big, easily dwarfing you with how close he is to you, the smell of his sweat hitting your nose and, instead of finding it gross, you find that it has you wanting to clench your thighs together.

“eyes on the ball,” he repeats, sounding a lot more gruff than before. it’s hard, but you tear your gaze away and do as he says. “good. feet shoulder width apart. that’s perfect.”

you fight a shiver and bite your lip again. this is not the time or place for your praise kink to kick in.

“i’m gonna let go and step back, then you can swing. okay?”

you nod, holding your stance and waiting for the all-clear, and when you get it you take a deep breath and slowly let it out, following what he’s told you and swinging… and you hit it straight down the green! it doesn’t go too far, but it’s the furthest you’ve hit a ball yet, and you let out a shocked, happy laugh.

“oh my god, i did it!” you giggle, bouncing on your toes and spinning to face him, catching his stare snapping up from your ass to your face. you’re suddenly extremely happy you chose some of your tightest athletic shorts.

“that was great,” he praises with a smile.

you let out another giggle, this one a bit higher in pitch from your nerves. “thanks for your help. i really appreciate it.”

“it’s no problem at all, i’m happy it paid off.”

“is there any way i could repay you?” you blurt, not wanting to miss the chance at extending your time with him, also not wanting to come across as too eager and missing by a mile.

he hums teasingly, pretending to think about it, then smirks. “how about we start with lunch?” he suggests, eyes roving down your body and back up. “and then i can give you another tip.”

he winks and you burst into even more giggles at the terrible joke, but you can’t even be mad about it. he looks quite pleased with himself at the sound of your laughter.

(and then, later, he looks smug as fuck at the sounds of your absolute ruin by him.)

…OKAY BYE😬😇😅😂♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

[airenyah]

Episode 6: FadelStyle vs. Beginnings and Endings

In the past one and a half-ish weeks we've discussed at length just how good the last scene at the diner is and how Style drawing tears on Fadel at the rock concert was foreshadowing to Fadel ending the episode crying real tears. What I haven't seen discussed yet, however, is how that ending scene is actually a counterpart to Fadel and Style's conversation after the rock concert. And I think that makes the scene in the diner even more poignant. And it also makes the scene at the rock pub even more painful as well. Because they are basically the same scenes, just flipped. And I desperately need to talk about it or else I'll explode.

Part 1: "Tonight I am very happy"

In this scene Style knows something that Fadel doesn't: This will most likely be their last chance to be happy together like this. Tomorrow Fadel will go on his mission where the police will be waiting and then Fadel will be taken away from him.

But Style already loves Fadel, he is already worried about him and he really does not want to lose him. So he keeps trying to subtly talk Fadel into staying home from the mission and spilling the beans about the mission so he can explicitly ask Fadel not to go. But Fadel keeps his mouth shut. And as happy as Style is together with Fadel this evening, he is also very upset. He doesn't want the night to end, but there's no way around it. For Style this is a goodbye.

And for Fadel? Fadel went from I'll tell her this will be your last job to Ruerat is the last jerk we have to kill. After that, we can live however we want. Even in this episode, right before he goes to the concert with Style, Fadel tells Bison "Once we’re done with Ruerat, I’ll talk to Mother again", when Bison says it's time for them to quit. Fadel is on the same page as Bison now. Ruerat is their last victim and after that Fadel wants out. For Fadel, this is the last night where he's still stuck in his hitman life, but once he is done with his mission the weight will be off his shoulders and he can finally truly be with Style. For Fadel this is the opposite of a goodbye.

In the words of my mother: For Style, when the night is over life will end. For Fadel, when the night is over life will begin. Style is ending something and Fadel wants to begin something.

And another thing my mom pointed out is how they're standing in front of a pink sky:

And at what time of the day is the sky pink? Either at dawn or at dusk. The beginning of the day or the end of the day. And for Fadel this scene is only the beginning of the day while for Style this scene is the end of the day.

Part 2: "I think I already love you"

In this scene Fadel knows something that Style doesn't: Style has played him, has made him lower his protective walls, has made him fall for him only to turn around and betray him.

Style told Fadel he hoped that Fadel wouldn't get any more scars and yet here Style is, stabbing Fadel right in the heart and jeopardizing his life. Here Style is, bursting Fadel's bubble that he's finally started daring to dream about, a dream of a future where he wasn't lonely, a future where he was happy and himself with someone, Style, by his side. Style is a danger to him. Style can't stay. As happy as Fadel has been together with Style, he needs to let go of him. For Fadel this is a goodbye.

And for Style? He has just spent a full week worrying sick about Fadel after his mission went wrong and went completely MIA. Style has likely (definitely) spent a week checking the restaurant every single day for any sign of Fadel's return, not giving up hope of seeing him again. And then Fadel is back. Style is overjoyed. The heavy metal concert wasn't their last day together, Fadel is pulling through on his promise to have many more nights like that with each other. The concert may have been the end of the day, but now against all odds a new day has come. For Style this is the opposite of a goodbye.

And so we're left with the exact opposite situation from what we had at the concert: Fadel is ending something and Style wants to begin something.

Conclusion

These two scenes go together, they're flipped parallels of each other.

At the concert Style is internally saying goodbye to Fadel because he thinks their relationship will be over when Fadel gets arrested at the mission and the police take him away. At the diner Fadel is internally saying goodbye to Style because he thinks their relationship is over now that he "knows" that none of it was real on Style's part since in reality he was working with said police.

At the concert Fadel is truly happy, because once his mission is over he'll talk to mother and when he's managed to convince her that him and Bison will be out, then Fadel can go and start a new life, a new future with Style. At the diner Style is overjoyed because he thought he was about to lose Fadel, but Fadel has come back and now Style gets a second chance at a future with Fadel.

At the concert, Fadel is happy and he can tell something is kinda off about Style ("What's wrong? You act like we’re not going to see each other again."), but he has absolutely no idea that Style is in the process of bidding him farewell. At the diner, Style is happy and he can tell something is kinda off about Fadel ("You were just calling me out for being affectionate. Now you wanna be romantic?"), but he has absolutely no idea that Fadel is in the process of bidding him farewell.

It's brilliant writing, really. And both scenes are flawlessly performed by both boys.

[uber-dawn]

chat i'm having random thoughts about eos post-game and eevee protagonist. it's no secret that eevee is a popular pick for this game and imo no matter what you choose to evolve them into there's a very poetic explanation for each (though i'm not sure how well i can articulate my thoughts lol). like,

- Flareon: coming from a world of darkness and sharp hostility, the hero chooses to become a soft and fluffy fire type. the hero is so smitten by the sun in the past (and so horrified by the lack of it in the future) that they become a fire type to bring that warmth and light wherever they go! (plus flareon's my favorite :])

- Jolteon: similar to flareon, wanting to bring light to the people of the past. there's also something to be said about the fact electric type are immune to paralysis, as well as the idea that hero was gone for months after defeating dialga, then once they come back they're alive! they want to run, and jump, and celebrate that they're here!

- Vaporeon: the fact that Grovyle and hero were seperated in a storm, that they met partner for the first time on a beach, that the hidden land is across the ocean, (smth smth manaphy, ive never played that far), that water doesnt flow in the future, eeeeverything about chapter 5, and that the partner found comfort in the krabby's bubbles. water in eos is important when it comes to partings and reunions.

- Umbreon: they're a dark type. do i need to explain.

okayifyouinsist, hero comes from a world of darkness!! even if they don't remember it, that darkness affected them on such a deep level that their body never forgot! as well, umbreons and dusknoirs have lots of golden rings on their bodies, and umbreons have a type advantage against dusknoirs your partner still loves you in your new form, but everytime they look at you they can't help but remember Him, and shudder. it's about being forced to reckon with the fact you placed your trust in Dusknoir, and he took advantage of it and betrayed you.

- Espeon: right this wasnt just about umbreon. espeon and umbreon were made to be parallels; where umbreon has high defenses, espeon has a high special attack (+ dark type is immune to psychic). where umbreon has a type advantage on Dusknoir, espeon has a weakness. an umbreon hero will never trust Him again; and espeon hero chooses to believe in second chances.

- Leafeon: GROVYLEEE, it's about choosing to change your very dna so that you never forget your friend! in the short time you know him, you fully understand why your past self stood by his side! there's sorrow in that without your memories you'll never fully understand your relationship with him, but your soul remembers, and you still love your friend. deep down, a leafeon hero is ashamed they ever considered Grovyle a criminal, and wishes they could have had more time with him, in less dire circumstances. last note, the fact that the world of the future was so barren and lifeless without the sun, and the fact you become a leafeon to reflect how the future is alive. :)

- Glaceon: the fact that the hero comes from a world that was frozen, and still becomes an ice type, the future was cold, but a hero glaceon still found beauty in it. it's about remaining hopeful and that with or without fixing the future, you still need to survive in this world. it's about understanding your situation and making peace with it, while still striving to make it better.

- Sylveon: i remember that when fairy type came out, people were trying to justify why it was strong against dragon, and my favorite explanation for it was that in "fairy" tales, the hero slays the dragon. the sylveon hero did it! they slew the dragon, and their story has finally come to an end! as well, it's about wanting to give off a cheery look. it's about saying "don't look at the violence and darkness, look at me, smile! i'm here to help you!" (we'll have Explorers DX someday, trust 🙏. )

[old-skyguy]

Look.

Ace Attorney fandom.

I know why people don't like Turnabout Bigtop. I am among the people who dislike Turnabout Bigtop.

But I GET why people like the case. I'm not going to be one of those annoying people who just blindly dump on it because I hate those mfs too.

Thing about Bigtop isn't that it sucks. Thing isn't the weird grooming stuff (though that is a huge part of it). It's not that it could've been good.

It's that - in my personal OPINION - it could have been *great*.

I think it had the potential to be one of the best third cases in the trilogy. It had everything; a fun and goofy setting fit for a pretty dang goofy lawyer game - where the environment itself had jokes and quips and one-liners and mishaps and tomfoolery written all over it, it had the previous case introducing a very interesting and important plotline that gave background for one of the more well-loved characters while also introducing an equally fucked up and lovable new one who was a child forced into a shit childhood of naivete in a CIRCUS with another character who was very naive and childish - whose interactions could have been funny and cute and reflective of said shit from the previous case (seriously she becomes such an important character in the 4th case, WHY would they not include her in this one for some character development? How did they fuck up letting a CHILD explore a CIRCUS?? That would have made the interactions flow MUCH better).

They had a pretty good, sympathetic killer imo, a morally dubious victim, an asshole of a client (who was pretty flat admittedly in-game, but I like his weird, topsy-turvy reasoning for it in the anime. Also, I think Max being kinda a dick would have bode well for the themes of Farewell since most of his clients up to this point have been like...nice? Not nice, but sympathetic, but him having to defend someone who's innocent but a prick would have shown him that just because someone is an asshole, doesn't mean they deserve to suffer for it and that they have the potential to grow as people, which is almost a complete foil to what Matt was. Ultimately, I would have loved the contrast of them as clients and I think it would have also served as character development for Phoenix, especially with his low-empathy tendencies).

They just didn't think that far ahead. They just didn't execute it well enough. They just decided to make three of the adult characters fight for the hand in marriage of a teenage girl. (Bat's part of the story was actually kinda good if he was just YOUNGER, I think him doing that for Regina would have been a stupid thing someone in the circus would do to impress their crush. Damn you Ace Attorney and your weird treatment of underage girls!!)

It just flopped and that's ok.

Even though it kinda sucked, it can still mean something to me.

Also I'm a Moe Curls apologist. I liked him, shut up.

[nho-jungle]

giving gillion a tail: bug's thoughts on triton anatomy

yeah im writing a full thing about this okay let me autism lazerbeam in peace.

so the thing with triton anatomy is that one would assume theyre just human anatomy with some extra bits like gills n stuff. and tails, but we'll go into that in a moment. the problem with this is bone structure. not all fish have bones. sharks don't have bones. instead the support structure of their bodies is made of cartilage. which isnt too different, considering parts of human anatomy are made up of cartilage, but it poses some interesting questions. im no scientist, but i am autistic as hell. so im going to pose a couple of options that are fun to rotate.

the most common depiction of tailed tritons (which i myself have drawn) is some variety of fish or shark. this is aesthetically fun bc of the variety within fish and sharks, in terms of colour and shape, that allows you to get funky with it. anatomically speaking, this would probably be achieved via the tailbone being there, like a monkey, but with the muscle and flesh around it being shark or fish-like. this would all lend to a tail that moves side to side, which would lead to an interesting swimming style that probably wouldnt involve much movement of the legs.

the second thought i had for tailed tritons was seals. seals have very short tails, but as mammals they have the same bone structure as humans. due to this, my initial thought was a second set of hips, so the triton bone structure would look like it had four legs, but the second set of legs would be the tail formation. this would lend itself to a tail that moves up and down, which could probably be utilised in tandem with the legs to create a very efficient swimming style.

however, neither of these ideas take into account one very important thing about tritons:

they're amphibious.

oh but bug, they can have human lungs and fish gills with nothing to do with the tail- silence voice i made up purely to disagree! we are not here to do arts and crafts! we are not gluing random creature aspects together with whimsy and magic! this is real science!

so amphibians. frogs and newts and salamanders and the like.

the amphibian life cycle, in most cases, involves eggs being laid in water and larvae being adapted to an aquatic lifestyle. frogs, toads, and salamanders all hatch with external gills, and develops lungs to breathe air as they grow up. amphibians are very adaptable to their environment, and there are many possible variations among individual species purely caused by outside influence and the area they grow up in.

but what does this have to do with tritons and their tails?

tadpoles

unlike most amphibians, frog tadpoles dont look like the adults. frog tadpoles start out fully aquatic, with external gills. as they grow and develop, they get gill pouches to make their gills internal. they have cartilaginous skeletons (which later develop into bone), lateral line systems (found in fish, used to detect movement, vibration, and pressure under water), and large tails. their lungs develop early. their front legs develop first, and then their back legs soon after.

(oh what about axolotls- axolotls dont have lungs. they are functionally the same as salamander larvae but they never get past that developmental stage. theyre amphibians that arent amphibious.)

im running out of steam for this post but basically what im trying to say is that triton are froglets. this would also make sense for the fact that triton have webbed hands and feet. frogs do too so it would be implemented into the swimming style. bone structure is a whole nother things, especially since both 'mordenkainen presents: monsters of the multiverse' and 'volos guide to monsters' are cowards whos triton designs are just blue people. but working from 'mythic odysseys of theros' designs, who have at least a little bit of flare, i think it's safe to assume that their bones are a little funky. some fun mix of bone and cartilage to have those interesting shapes.

all that being said, i am a big supporter of doing whatever you want forever. i am also just a massive nerd and like to think way too hard about these things.

(shoutout to my dad for assistance with bouncing ideas around, and for being the one to suggest the tadpole thing.)

[corvidae-quills]

Probably weird off topic post but I just had a sort of brainwave that I feel compelled to inflict upon my beloved mutuals, but I was thinking about Time (which I do a lot because I think it's really interesting and I think we take too much for granted about it and I think the next Really Big scientific breakthroughs (like heliocentrism level) are going to come in the field of Time). Anyway.

We know now that the closer you go to the speed of light the slower time moves for you (even though your perception isn't changed, it's still one second per second for you, it's just your one second per seconds are happening slower than everyone else's) versus people who are "standing still" except. Nobody's standing still. The earth is hurtling around the sun at sixty-seven THOUSAND miles per hour. The sun is also orbiting around the center of the galaxy at probably a very fast speed, I don't have a number for it, and the galaxy is orbiting the center of gravity of the local group, which is also in motion. We have all kinds of brain-breaking velocities stacked on top of each other. So I guess my thought is. If you were ACTUALLY standing still. Would time stop?

[lightseoul]

prove it

synopsis. bakugou katsuki starts acting differently after your last conversation. you finally arrive at an agreement. (part 1) (part 2)

cw. fem!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~24 yrs old), lots of cussing

word count. 3.6k words

a/n. the last part of the series! thanks so much for all the love on the first two parts, everyone! i had such fun writing this <3 again, reblogs, tags, and comments will be highly appreciated!

You barely slept a wink that night.

After that exchange with Bakugou, you immediately left his office, not even bothering to greet his secretary (partly because you couldn’t bear the possibility of her overhearing), and headed straight to your desk.

A feeble attempt at going back to work was made, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you actually got something done.

Even as you commuted your way home and got ready for bed, your brain wouldn’t stop replaying the conversation, lingering especially on his loaded confession.

He still loves you.

What now?

Sadly, just because you're marred by sleep deficit and boy problems doesn't mean you get to miss out on work. You now walk down the hallway of your floor on the way to the break room, desperate to inject some caffeine into your system to get you through the day.

And to help you focus and get your mind off of Bakugou fucking Katsuki, thank you very much.

You’re one foot into the room when it suddenly dawns on you how you consumed the last pod of your favorite brew yesterday (before all the shit went down), which means that you’re now out and caffeine-less.

Fuck.

“Well, don’t you look like shit.”

Mikuri hums from her favorite spot on the sofa, a cup of what you think is green tea in her hands.

“Thanks?” you mumble begrudgingly as you plop yourself across from her, mood growing sourer by the minute.

“What’s up with you?” she sounds amused, a brow quirked in question.

You sigh, smoothing the wrinkle on your blazer you didn’t have the energy to iron out that morning. “Am sleep-deprived and out of coffee. Not everyone can be chipper like you on this fine day, I guess.”

“No, you’re not?”

You sit up, eyes narrowing, “You mean to say I look like shit normally and not just because I didn’t get enough sleep?”

She frowns, “You know that’s not what I mean. What I meant is that no, you’re not out of coffee.”

“Look,” she gestures to the beverage area with her free hand.

Your brows shoot up in response as you take in the freshly stocked shelf.

Weird, you think to yourself.

You were normally the one to restock on that specific flavor, being the only one on your floor who is partial to it.

Unless…

You shake your head to rid yourself of the unwelcome thoughts, willing to crush the butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Mikuri doesn’t get the chance to comment on your unusual behavior because the Performance Management head of your HR team pops in through the door, a grin adorning his face.

“Good morning, boss! See you in 15.”

Yamakawa, the Recruitment head, rifles through her documents before standing up to distribute them to you and the other sub-department leads.

She goes around the room to hand you what seems to be a substantial amount of pages, “Here’s the status report on Bakugou’s new sidekick.”

“Already?” you splutter, gaining the attention of your direct subordinates. You straighten up, slightly embarrassed. “I thought they’re just starting today?”

“Yeah, well. We figured you’d want to hear it,” Yamakawa says as she gets seated and goes through her copy.

“Get this,” she continues, “he’s way more cooperative than we predicted him to be. Moriyama-san, or Water Jet Hero: Aqua Girl, is already in his office, discussing—” she glances at the report, “—battle strategies and joint training schedules as we speak.”

The others hum in acknowledgment as you sit there, still struggling to wrap your head around what was just said.

“And no one coerced him to do this?” Tanaka, the Performance Management head, pipes in. You whip to look at Yamakawa, anticipating her answer.

“Apparently, he emailed Moriyama-san yesterday himself to set the meeting.”

Delighted noises erupt across the room as you stare at the Recruitment head in disbelief.

“This is great news, right?” the Socialization head exclaims. “If we’re talking long-term, Bakugou’s workload will definitely lessen with a good sidekick around, meaning we’ll get fewer angry outbursts and a more decent-to-be-around boss!”

You know they’re making sense, and that this is supposed to be amazing news to hear as the HR department head, but you can’t help the tinge of anticipatory dread rising in your gut.

“Why don’t you seem happy?” Tanaka asks you, before turning to the others. “Hey, why isn’t Y/N happy?”

The unusual events don’t end after that.

To your surprise, Bakugou starts to attend meetings that concern him, instead of the usual—letting Kirishima do all the coordinating with you and your department. He’s even offered to help you with your analysis report on his new sidekick (quite awkwardly, at that), which you so quickly and frantically declined in front of everyone.

You suspect your subordinates are starting to deem you as weird, too.

If they only knew.

Regardless, with each passing day, you seem to be seeing more and more of him around the office, and needless to say, it’s messing with your head.

The always-stocked shelf of coffee isn’t helping either.

It’s gotten to the point where it’s starting to affect your sleep as well, with how much you overthink these sudden changes in his behavior.

In an attempt to get your mind off him and the confusing mix of hope and dread circling your stomach, you start to drown yourself in work.

Ah, your ever-trusty friend: avoidance.

You stand by the coffee machine as it does its magic, your foot tapping against the floor impatiently. You glance at the wall clock, which reads 8:01 PM.

You sigh, grabbing the freshly brewed beverage not even a second after the machine dings.

It’s been two weeks since that heated conversation with Bakugou, and one since your self-mandated oath to bury yourself with work, at least until your thoughts get a little bit less muddled and Bakugou stops acting differently.

“You’re still here?”

You startle from your absentminded stirring and look toward the source of the voice.

Speak of the devil.

Seeming as though he’s fresh from a shower, you stare at Bakugou as he stands by the doorway of the break room.

You eye the duffel bag that’s slung over his shoulder.

“You’re leaving already?”

Fuck, you think to yourself. Now you feel like a creep for knowing that Bakugou leaving two hours after his shift is considered early in his dictionary.

And now you feel stupid for answering his question with another question.

What’s gotten into you?

“Yeah,” he answers curtly, not offering much of an explanation. “What’re you doing working overtime?”

You place the mug on the marble countertop and cringe when it makes a loud, clashing noise.

You turn back to face him. “Have to work on the biannual report.” You shrug, as nonchalantly as you can, “It’s due soon.”

Bakugou grunts in acknowledgment, shifting on his feet.

“Well, thank you for your hard work,” he offers. “And for—uh—helping me choose my sidekick.”

Your stomach whirls in delight despite yourself.

You clear your throat, “Again, I was just doing my job.”

At that, he deflates ever so minutely, so you follow it up with: “But you’re welcome. I heard you’re thinking of hiring another one?”

“Yeah, just to help with the workload,” he nods. “I met him yesterday.”

“...You’re right, by the way,” Bakugou adds after a few seconds pass without you saying anything.

“Huh?”

He looks away, breaking eye contact. “I don’t like how similar we are. But he’s good.”

You have no idea how he knew you said that.

Scratch that—it was probably Kirishima.

Damn that meddler.

You clear your throat again in an attempt to change the subject and drop the conversation in its entirety.

“Well, I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

Bakugou meets your eye again, and for a moment he looks like he’s about to say something, then hesitates.

He opens his mouth ever so slightly before closing it again, eyes still fixed on you, before simply saying: “You too.”

At that, he turns on his heel and trudges towards the elevators.

Once you’re sure he’s out of sight and earshot, you bring your hand up to clutch at your heart, which is going at an alarmingly fast rate.

“Shit.”

You can’t still be in love with him?

“What?!” Mina hops on her feet, almost knocking your glass of iced tea off the table.

“Dude, you’ve got to stop doing that,” you seethe, looking around your go-to café. It’s unusually barren on a Saturday afternoon.

You look back at her, “People stare, you know. And besides, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL?!” she parrots incredulously.

“Just—” you scramble for words, “please sit back down?”

At your pleading tone, Mina finally gets seated, but her pinched eyebrows tell you she’s far from being done with the conversation.

“Fine,” she relents, “but you’ve got some explaining to do, missy.”

You sigh, “Okay. What do I have to explain to you?”

“Wha—” she starts, aghast, “I mean—first of all, why the fuck are you asking me to contact your blind date when three weeks ago, you were practically disgusted with the idea of going on one?”

“We talked,” you shift your eyes away from her. “Bakugou and I.”

Mina snorts.

“Let me guess. You realized you still love him?”

Your head whips to look at her, “Mina!”

“What?” she spits back. “Don’t use that accusatory tone on me.”

“I have the right to use this accusatory tone on you. I have a feeling a certain someone broke her promise about not saying anything about our last conversation with Bakugou.”

At that, Mina visibly cringes.

“In my defense,” she starts, voice raised, “it was only because that cemented how you’re both still into each other!”

You scoff.

“Aren’t you?” she presses, shooting you a pointed look, “Still into him?”

“I—I don’t know okay,” you raise your voice, inadvertently catching a few café-goers’ attention. You sink back into your seat in embarrassment.

“All I know is that the circumstances between us still haven’t changed. And that this shit is confusing—he’s confusing.”

You wave your hand around vaguely, “He’s been acting all weird and stuff.”

“How so?”

“Well, for starters…”

“Hmmm…”

“What do you mean, hmmm?” you ask, exasperated.

She rolls her eyes at you, “Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that he’s trying to prove you something?”

At that, your heart leaps in your throat. You push it down, though, as best as you can. Crossing your arms across your chest, you huff.

“If he thinks restocking my coffee for me is proving something, he’s got another thing coming for him.”

Mina guffaws, and you can’t help the smile that creeps on your face. Once the laughter has died down, though, she eyes you for a moment before sighing in resignation.

She picks up her phone and thumbs out something on her keyboard.

“Well, you’re in luck,” she starts, “Daichi-san is still interested in meeting you.”

You don’t know whether to be annoyed at Mina for ignoring your earlier request to cancel or be grateful for indulging you on your current one.

Not wanting to change her mind, you merely opt for mumbling a quick ‘thank you’, glancing at your phone as it dings with a message from her containing the engineer’s number.

You look around the interior of the restaurant, past the windows of the private room you’re in where a beautiful traditional garden lies, illuminated by the dim orange outdoor lighting.

You chance a peek at Daichi, who is already looking at you when your eyes meet.

Embarrassed, you look down at your ridiculously elaborate main course, finding yourself grateful that you opted for the fancier of your two dresses earlier this evening.

“So,” he breaks the silence as he pours you a glass of wine whose name you can’t even begin to pronounce. “Ashido-san told me you work at the Ground Riot agency?”

“Yes,” you smile gratefully as you bring your glass to your lips and take a sip. “I’ve been working there for a year now.”

“Must be exciting, huh?” he adds pleasantly, “working for top Pro Heroes?”

Man.

You purse your lips together, not wanting to seem stilted by the question. “It is. It can get quite hectic, though.”

He hums in agreement, “I get that.”

Daichi then proceeds to talk about the agency where he works, and normally you’d be kind enough to actively listen and throw in some follow-up questions, but your mind is now drifting towards Bakugou and your last encounter at the mention of the Pro Hero.

What did he want to say to you?

“L/N-san?”

“Huh?”

Daichi chuckles awkwardly, “I was just asking if you wanted some spice on your salmon."

Spice.

Bakugou would’ve wanted some.

Bakugou, you think to yourself.

Bakugou.

“Bakugou?”

You gape at the figure looming over your dining table.

The very man is standing there in his regular clothes that would’ve disguised his identity if it weren’t for his distinct blonde hair and hulking figure.

“What are you doing here?!”

“I need to talk to you.”

You nervously glance at your date, who seems to be starstruck by the Pro Hero in front of him.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something?” you whisper-shout.

Bakugou barely pays him any attention—gaze remaining on you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think an unspoken ‘please’ lies at the tip of his tongue.

You shake your head in bewilderment, or in an attempt to shake off these thoughts—you don’t know.

“Don’t you have the night shift? And how’d you know I was here?”

He exhales heavily, jaw tensing.

“I had Kirishima cover for me. And…” He looks away for a brief moment, before turning back and fixing his gaze on yours. “I asked Mina, and she told me you’d be here.”

You don’t know what comes over you, but at that, you stand up on your feet and stare him down.

“You can stop now, Katsuki,” you hush, wary of your date eavesdropping on your conversation. “Quit wasting your time on me just to prove a point and go back to the agency. You’ve done enough.”

His eyebrows furrow in what you’ve grown to identify as defiance, but he doesn’t make a move to fight back or leave.

Instead, he says through gritted teeth: “I’m not just trying to prove a fucking point, Y/N.”

“Then what are—”

“Excuse me?”

You both whip your heads in the direction of the voice, only to see Daichi sporting a sheepish look on his face as his eyes dart between the two of you.

A pang of guilt courses through you at the sight.

He clears his throat, “Do you guys need a minute alone?”

“No, we’re just—”

“Yes.”

You turn back to look at Bakugou in angry confusion. To your astoundment, he leans in ever slightly, mouth nearing your ear. From how close you are, you see how his Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps before speaking.

His voice is barely above a whisper when he says: “I can’t pretend that this isn’t bothering me.”

You jerk away at the sensation and take a step back, flustered. Before you can even gather your bearing, Daichi speaks up again, albeit quite hesitantly.

“I know I’m supposed to be the one leaving here, but if you want some privacy, this restaurant has a private patio right to your left.”

“I can’t believe you interrupted us like that,” you spew as you step out into the restaurant’s patio, which is fortunately empty except for the two of you.

Bakugou follows behind you, trying to catch up as you speak.

“I just needed to talk to you.”

At that, you spin around to face him, and he halts in his step in front of you.

Incredulous, you stare at him for a few seconds.

“Talk,” you finally command.

His eyes widen in surprise, and you can tell he didn’t expect this conversation to arrive at this point so soon.

A moment passes, but not a single word is uttered. Bakugou’s mouth opens and closes, opens and closes, as he attempts to get a word out but to no avail.

“What, now you don’t have anything to say?” you ask pointedly, irritation bubbling in you by the second.

You wait for a few more, excruciatingly quiet seconds before huffing in defeat. And disappointment—you finally admit to yourself.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you turn on your heel, “I have a poor date to return to.”

You start to head for the restaurant’s back door when Bakugou makes a grab for your hand, spinning you around to face him.

“Just—wait.”

His voice is pleading now, frustration and desperation evident in his tone. You’re itching to yank your hand back, which is getting alarmingly clammier by the second, but you fight the urge.

The pained look on Bakugou’s face is enough to freeze you solid.

This time around, you patiently wait for him to gather his words with his hand still wrapped around yours and your heart betraying you, beating at an abnormally fast pace.

What feels like an hour goes by before he finally manages to speak.

And what comes out of his mouth throws you right off.

“I strengthened our coordination with the other agencies around the district.”

“...What?”

You absentmindedly touch your face with your free hand.

You can’t be having a stroke right now.

Bakugou shifts on his feet, a nervous tic you’ve noticed developed over the years.

Okay, if you’re coherent enough to observe that, maybe you’re not having a stroke.

“I mean—” he scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “—Shitty Hair and I, we clarified jurisdictions around the area so that the two of us won’t be the go-to contact every time there’s a villain around.”

“I’m still not following, Katsuki.”

He ignores your comment, choosing to continue on his tangent instead.

“And I started seeing my therapist again. That damned hag went on telling me she was glad I’m getting help again like she was my mother.”

You blink at him as the gears start turning in your head.

Jurisdiction.

Less overtime.

More sidekicks.

Therapy.

Communication.

Suddenly, everything clicks.

“Maybe I am trying to prove a point,” Bakugou mumbles, more to himself than you.

“But it’s not just that,” he continues, looking back at you and not letting you get a word in.

“I’m here to tell you that I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect. Despite all the adjustments I’ve made, there are still gonna be days when I have no choice but to prioritize my duties as a hero over you.”

He looks down at your joint hands and squeezes, “Over us.”

“But I’m trying my best,” he declares with such certainty it knocks the wind off your lungs. “And I’ll keep doing so, if you’ll give me a chance to prove to you that I can do it.”

A million questions race through your mind. Why couldn’t he have done this for you the first time around? How is this time going to be any different? Are the changes going to be enough?

But he’s staring at you with such longing and hope and determination that the only thing you can think of is: How can you not?

Dizzy from the revelation and robbed of all words, all you can do is nod in affirmation as the tears you didn’t even notice were there start falling down your cheek.

A sigh of relief wracks Bakugou’s body as he scoops you in his arms, engulfing you in an embrace that has you sobbing even more on his shoulder.

The wet sensation spreading on your bare shoulders tells you he’s crying, too.

After what feels like an eternity of shedding tears and being wrapped in each other’s arms, Bakugou finally moves to unwrap his limbs around you, now holding you at an arm’s length.

Now not in spite of yourself, your hand shoots up to wipe off the tear streaks on his face, which he leans into.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” he whispers after a moment.

Your hand freezes in its track. “For what?”

“For not being able to immediately answer back when you asked me if you loving me changed anything.”

He looks down at his feet, uncertain. “I think—I just—” he stutters, “Fuck.”

You can’t help but chuckle in response, and he looks up at your face at the sound. He’s trying to playfully pout, but you can tell by the look on his face that he’s feeling the farthest from playful.

Flashing him what you hope is a reassuring smile, you reach for the hand on your shoulder and squeeze it. “Go on, Katsuki.”

He sighs for the nth time at your coaxing, the slightest bit of relief flashing across his features.

“At that moment,” he finally continues, voice raspy, “I guess I was just scared shitless. I was paralyzed with doubt—in myself, in my capability to not mess up the second time around.”

He huffs, eyeing you, “Didn’t occur to me how stupid that was until I was walking home later that night.”

You’re about to reassure him when he snorts. “The fuck am I saying—I’m still scared.”

At that, you audibly laugh, running your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. He visibly softens at the gesture, lids fluttering shut for a moment. When he opens them, you then look him straight in the eye—the laughter long gone, now replaced with a palpable seriousness.

“I’m scared, too,” you say, voice quiet. “But we’ll try and make things work. Right, Katsuki?”

He nods vigorously, hand clenching yours and his crimson orbs filled with nothing but sincerity that all the apprehensions floating in your mind suddenly disappear.

“We will.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @bakugouswh0r3 @poemzcheng @lovra974 @jasmixs @xoneaboveallx @bontensh0e @kooromin @sirenmoi @buzzbuzz-hm @xzsanaa @baddecisionsworld @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @i-simp-to-much @goldenglow149 @fixed211 @zenxvii @roses-arerosies @tiredjuniper @curbstompedrice @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @bkgnotsuma @6423btw @kaeremin @ghastly-san @jasmixs @javochqaa @nnubee @just-ambxrr @idk-sam @dream-walker-cat @kitthepurplepotato @endlessfreaky @myrunawaysweets @bxbyyyjocelyn @smolbeannnn @seabass17 @serendipitous-fernweh @the-weeping-author

[godbirdart]

update: okay so. it's day one of getting Better Mental Health. and i won't lie, going into this i kept saying to myself: maybe this isn't a Huge issue. maybe i am overthinking this. maybe i'm wasting resources by getting my not-yet-diagnosed-but-suspected-to-have adhd assessed as it felt so trivial and such a bare-minimum issue that maybe it really didn't merit going in and filling out the forms.

i have never felt so calm in my life

do you mean to tell me that other people, not all people ofc but the general population, Feel This Calm all the time???? as in, every day? that they don't have this cluster of thoughts and ~vague arbitrary activity~ like tv snow crackling 24/7 in their mind like the background din of a convention or busy cafe???

WHAT!!!!!!!

[baneonono]

aziracrowifying from eden by hozier: the master post

I know that everyone azirocrows from eden because duh but stay with me okay. because I think there's a cool interpretation that isn't so much about crowley longing for aza(there's still plenty of longing) it's more about crowley seeing himself and his situation in aza/aza's situation and reflecting on his fall/situation and how that is reflected in aza's. basically cool parrallels and crowley hating the system and loving aziraphale. let's go lyric by lyric shall we

Babe There's something tragic about you Something so magic about you Don't you agree?

pretty basic stuff here. I think crowley see aziraphale as uniquely moral, just the epitome of everything right and good. now crowley has magic for all intents and purposes, but aziraphale he is true magic, the strength of aza's morals is something he can barely comprehend to the extent that it becomes magical. especially in the context of heaven, a heaven that doesn't share aziraphale's moral fiber. and even in the context of that aziraphale manages to be so good. he thinks it's so magical. and he equally thinks it's tragic because aziraphale should be the standard for good, aziraphale is the only real good thing and he has to exist in heaven. and the don't you agree, in the plot of the song, I like to imagine this being the early stages of crowley appealing to aziraphale to be friends. he asks aza if they can be agreed on his assessment of aziraphale's relationship with heaven.

Babe There's something lonesome about you Something so wholesome about you Get closer to me

as time goes marching forward and aziraphale finds that he does agree with crowley, crowley gets to discover so much more about aza. he discovers how lonely aziraphale is in heaven and he discovers how obscenely adorable aza is(just crowley falling in love with aziraphale and his magic and his books and his food and and and). Crowley finds himself urging aziraphale closer. for a few moments even he can't tell what his intentions are. does he just want aza to be less lonely? does he want to tempt aza toward evil? does he want to purify himself? does he just want to be less lonely? does he just want to be closer to aziraphale? perhaps it's a little bit of all of them. regardless his surprise when aziraphale does get closer to him and he gets to discover even more about him is pleasant but still strong

No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me

crowley has seen so many tired sighs, rolling eyes, and examples of irony from heaven. but the closer he gets to aza, the more he discovers that aziraphale distinctly lacks them. those gabriel qualities that are holy in heaven, aza entirely rejects. but that doesn't mean he has qualities of the other side. the 'who care' nature of demons, the vacant stares he gets constantly down below, the time that beelzebub will make for crowley's nonsense. all of these things, aziraphale doesn't have. he cares so much, he only ever looks at things intently, and crowley has to be on his best behaviour around aziraphale or he gets really disappointed. crowley is falling so far in love with this angel. because aziraphale isn't a side, aziraphale defies sides and is so good. crowley can't stay away.

Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

what crowley finds truly remarkable about this angel that the more he knows, the more his life becomes better. because the angel is so familiar, a version of himself that he had once wanted to be, a view in the mirror thousands of years prior. crowley isn't that person anymore. his idealism is now imprisoned in this demon body where it can't be expressed. the chivalry he wants to act upon for aziraphale, it's fallen, fallen on it's own sword. his innocence died screaming all the way down to the basement. but this angel that can express the idealism, that can be chivalrous, that maintains innocence in the face of everything, he feels familiar to crowley because at some point thats where crowley thought he would be, that's the reflection he had hoped to see in the mirror. so now he slithers all the way from Eden, just to sit outside aza's door and pretend that the window he peeks through is a mirror.

Babe There's something wretched about this Something so precious about this Where to begin?

this relationship their forging, that they each fight for everyday in tiny ways, they see it in different ways. aziraphale views it as something so precious, something that he would rearrange the cosmos for. and while crowley also loves and values the relationship, he would firstly describe it as wretched. he's a demon after all, he's down with the wretched. aziraphale doesn't see it that way and trying to explain it to him is always a struggle. when crowley attempts he doesn't even know where to even begin (((author brainrot interjection: IT BEGINS AS IT WILL END IN A GARDEN anyways back to out regularly scheduled programming)))

Babe There's something broken about this But I might be hoping about this Oh, what a sin

he begins before his fall, back when he still had idealism and chivalry and innocence. he knew even then that something was broken with this system, he had questions about it, he had suggestions. and more importantly, he had hope. he had hope that people would answer his questions, they would listen to his suggestions, they would understand where he was coming from, they would want the same thing that he did for the system, to make it better. but to suggest or ask a question that said the system is broken, that was a sin.

To the strand a picnic plan for you and me A rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree

for the angels who didn't have questions, god would have picnics and all good things. but for god's other men like crowley who had questions, god handed them the rope to hang themselves and make their way downstairs.

Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

so yes, aziraphale is familiar, aziraphale feels like that angel that crowley almost was. and as he sees this idealism imprisoned in heaven, as he watches the other angels pushing aziraphale onto his own sword like a vampire on a stake, and bears witness to this pure good being ostracized by the people who are supposed to be the good ones, he kills the last bits of innocence in his soul, he loses any hope he had for the system, he burns it all to the ground, he leaves eden, he just slithers to aziraphale's door and sits there

Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to hide outside your door

bonus aziraphale pov: as stupid as it sounds, aziraphale also sees himself in crowley. crowley is idealistic and chivalrous and though crowley never sees it, aziraphale loves the innocent parts of crowley. the way crowley takes care of his plants, the way his car is so important to him, the way his appearance takes up a significant part of his brain. aziraphale has lost care for the system as time went on. the innocent urge to make sure people are seeing what they wish to see, he left that behind a while ago. now all he has is the selfish want to do good. because aziraphale doesn't do good for other people, he does it singularly for himself because he makes him feel good. when he sees crowley, who cares so deeply about right and wrong as ideals, he sees a part of him in the past. the part of him that had tried so hard to be the angel god wanted him to be. so aziraphale sees crowley's idealism imprisoned in this demonic form because the system didn't let him express it. he sees a system that pushed crowley onto his own sword. he looks at crowley and he still sees that childlike innocence in his faith in objective good that's separate from god. that innocence that aza once had died screaming a long time ago. when aziraphale goes to see crowley, he feels a little bit like he's slithering, that he's really the snake coming from eden to tempt crowley so he hides outside crowley's door.

[project-sekai-facts]

helloo

if you want too could you do a relationship analysis for Mafuyu and Kanade? you’re very good at turning thoughts into words and i feel they’ve got a really interesting dynamic.

Kanade and Mafuyu’s relationship is complicated, to say the least. I often see people write their dynamic off as toxic and the thing is, that’s not necessarily untrue. Less so where we are now, but it’s not wrong if you’re reading events pre-Carnation Recollection.

Here’s how it works. Mafuyu and Kanade are both severely depressed, both have been suicidal at points. They are not healthy. They found each other, both of them being people that life hadn’t been kind to. They don’t talk about it, though. When they do, they become dependent on each other to live. It’s not healthy.

Kanade’s talent caused her father to overwork himself into a coma, leaving her with a saviour complex. She hurt her father with her music, she’s never going to let it hurt anyone again. She forms Niigo in hopes that she’ll save someone, and she does. She saves Ena, she saves Mizuki, but it’s not enough. When Mafuyu is on the brink of giving it all up, Kanade promises to keep composing until she can save Mafuyu. She projects her complex onto Mafuyu.

Mafuyu wants to die during the main story, but Kanade’s song is able to get through to her. It doesn’t save her by any means, but it left enough of a mark on her to manifest into the SEKAI. Kanade promises to save her. Someone cares, someone is willing to help. But how can anyone help Mafuyu when she can’t help herself, when she can’t help them help her. She doesn’t know what she feels, she doesn’t even know she can feel anything. But Kanade believes there’s more below the surface, more to keep searching for.

Kanade needs to save someone, Mafuyu needs saving.

None of the songs save Mafuyu, they barely have an effect on her, so Kanade keeps going, and going, and going. She needs to save Mafuyu because she wants her music to save people. It doesn't have to be Mafuyu that she saves, Mafuyu just happens to be there.

However, Carnation Recollection brings some changes. Here, we have the arrival of Luka. Luka who’s honest, not afraid to push the N25 members when they need to be pushed. She tells Kanade that her song will not save Mafuyu. Why is she doing this? What does she want this song to achieve? What does she want Mafuyu to see and realise with this song?

She realises later on that the difference between her music and her father's music is that his had warmth. Warmth because he wanted his music to make Kanade and her mother smile.

So what does she want? Well she doesn't want Mafuyu to disappear, but that's because she's projecting her personal losses and complex onto Mafuyu. She wants Mafuyu to stay alive so she doesn't get hurt.

The better question is how does she want Mafuyu to feel? What does she want Mafuyu to do with this song? She wants Mafuyu to find herself, but Kanade doesn't know who Mafuyu is. She remembers Luka's words, and thinks about what she wants Mafuyu to feel. She wants Mafuyu to feel the same way her mother did when listening to her father's music. She wants Mafuyu to smile. It's still personally driven, but it's an improvement, she's growing. This isn't just for her anymore. And it works, Mafuyu feels something, she feels warm. It's different from the coldness she's felt her whole life.

Mafuyu's life lacks any warmth, Mirage of Lights makes this clear. Her mother is cold, she doesn't care about Mafuyu, she just cares about what Mafuyu is. Talented, smart, overachieving; that's what she cares about. Mafuyu is just a vessel for her to project the perfect child onto.

Kanade's song made her feel something new. She's not sure how or why but she wants to find out. After looking at a photo album from when she was a child, she realises that she was able to feel emotions differently back then. Kanade's song managed to chip at the person she once was.

When Mafuyu falls ill, Kanade looks after her. Not for her own needs but because she cares. Mafuyu feels something again, the same warmth and love her mother used to give her before everything went bitter. It's something she hasn't felt in a long time.

It's here where holding hands becomes something of a recurring thing for the two of them. While the Gunjou Sanka MV illustrates this, this is the first time it's actually in the original text. Kanade holds Mafuyu's hand until she falls asleep because she cares, she wants to make Mafuyu feel better, she wants her to smile. All the things her mother used to do for her. All the things she doesn't have anymore.

What was once dependence becomes something else. Trust, solace, refuge.

Don't worry. I'll stay right here. Here, hold my hand. I won't let you be all alone. I won't go anywhere…

I want you to feel what I did. I want you to smile the way I did back then.

I think I can keep moving forward. Right, Kanade…?

At one point during Intersecting Melodies, Glowing Warmth, Honami calls Mafuyu Kanade's friend. Kanade seems surprised, maybe a little confused by that. But at this point I think that's what they are. They aren't just acquaintances or groupmates anymore, it's not just Kanade trying to save Mafuyu. It's Kanade genuinely caring for Mafuyu, trying to make her smile and feel. It's Mafuyu who's grateful for Kanade's care and determination. Later on in that event, Mafuyu seems to realise the same thing. Seeing Kanade happy makes her feel warm, helping Kanade makes her feel warm.

The next time they hold hands is in Guiding a Lost Child to What Lies Beyond. It's warm again. Kanade helps her, the rest of N25 are kind to her and help her. It's nothing like she feels at home. She's not afraid of them. It's home.

By immiscible discord it becomes truly apparent that Mafuyu's mother doesn't care about her. Everything she does makes her daughter hurt, more and more, it's cold and painful. But Kanade is the warmth to fight back against that cold. She remembers her own parents, her family. They wanted the best for each other, they wanted each other to smile. It was happy, comforting. Warm. Mafuyu doesn't have that, but Kanade is determined to let her have it, even if her actual family isn't involved. Kanade promises to stay by Mafuyu's side, because she cares her. She loves her more than her mother ever could.

And then by Saying Goodbye to My Masked Self, Mrs Asahina views Kanade as an enemy. She outright says to Mafuyu at one point that she loves her, not Kanade. She only wants what's best for her. But she doesn't. The person who truly cares, understands, wants to help her, and loves her...

is Kanade

When Mafuyu runs away, she goes to Kanade. She knows where Ena lives, Ena had even said that she would probably be able to take Mafuyu. But Mafuyu goes to Kanade. Kanade is home, her real one, more than her family.

Where we are in the game now, it's clear that they are very important to each other. In fact, they're probably the most important people to each other. Kanade's family cannot take care of her, but they love her. Mafuyu's family doesn't truly love her, but they can take care of her.

Neither of them are really in a good state to do it, but they can take care of each other.

---

Kanade and Mafuyu's relationship isn't an entirely healthy one. It's comes from a foundation that makes their relationship a potentially toxic one, but they learn to heal. Healing is what their dynamic is about. Kanade projects her complex onto Mafuyu, Mafuyu is dependent on Kanade to live. It's not healthy, but they heal together.

Kanade realises her selfish goals, she reworks them. She doesn't just want Mafuyu to survive, she wants her to live. She wants to see her smile, she wants to see her be happy. Mafuyu experiences a sense of comfort with Kanade for the first time in years. They grow to be friends rather than just acquaintances, the complete dependency wears away into something closer to trust, comfort. A mutual bond that's hard to pin down but is built from a developing love.

Kanade and Mafuyu are opposites. Everything about their lives is opposite, though it all links back to warmth vs coldness. A happy family who loves each other vs a "happy family" who loves the concept of what their child is. A warm person who makes music vs an icy person who takes it away. Asahina vs Yoisaki.

Despite all of that, they both hurt. Their pain is different but they can relate to how it feels. Neither of them want to hurt anymore, and it becomes neither of them wanting the other to hurt anymore.

Kanade and Mafuyu's relationship is complex. It was started by a complex. But I think looking at it now, it's much more than it started out as.

[finelythreadedsky]

one thing i have learned this far into my phd is that there are a LOT of typos in academic books. the editing standards are not high.