#i’m so proud of this stupid meme

[milesmentis]

I saw this post and just had to remake it with my Inquisitors because it's a perfect summary of their dynamic

[littledreamling]

Now on AO3!

"Hob," Dream called out, in that tone. It was a tone that Hob had learned meant that Dream was confused, utterly and entirely, but he didn't want to admit it. Hob was, as always, more than happy to help. It wasn't often that his lover asked for help and while he couldn't exactly call Dream's odd and often ill-timed questions pleas for help, he knew Dream's understanding of the Waking often depended on his steadfast and reliable answers.

"Yes, love?"

"What is this... Goncharov?"

Hob was suddenly very glad that Dream was lounging on the couch, safely out of sight of the kitchen, where Hob was currently questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment. He placed his mug of coffee (thankfully empty enough to have not spilled all over him during his knee-jerk, full-body convulsion of silent laughter at his lover's question) on the counter (to save it from further spillage risks) and, once he had schooled his face as best as he could, popped his head around the corner to glance at Dream, who was engrossed in something on Hob's phone. Scrolling through social media, no doubt, given the topic at hand.

"It's uhh... a movie from the 70's, if I remember correctly," Hob said, as smoothly as possible. "Something about the mafia? It was sort of a cult classic, but I'm not surprised you haven't heard of it. It had it's little blip of fame and then faded back into obscurity pretty quickly. Why?"

"It has gained something of a resurgence, it seems," Dream mused without looking up, a fact that Hob was eternally grateful for. He wasn't sure his facial expression was even remotely close to anything that could be called innocent. One glance from Dream and the game would be up. "There have been many dreams about it in the past few days. Something about clocks and apples and lit cigarettes. I was simply wondering after your opinion on it."

"Oh, it was Al Pacino in his prime. It came out right before The Godfather, if I remember correctly. God, I haven't heard anything about it in years," Hob lied through his teeth, trying desperately to keep the grin off of his lips and the laughter from bubbling up in his chest. "Might be fun to rewatch it. Like I said, it kind of flopped when it came out; I'm glad that it's getting the attention it deserves, even if it is fifty years too late."

At that, Dream did look up, something like affront in his eyes.

"There is no such thing as too late for a story, Hob," he said, not unkindly. "A story always has time to be told. So long as the story remains, its message persists. The revival of a story is an inevitability in its lifetime; they never die, they simply twist and evolve. That this particular story is garnering such avid, new attention after so long is a comfort."

Well, now Hob felt bad. His playful teases shriveled in the face of such a display of sincerity and emotion from his beloved. It burned through Hob's heart, scorching away the last traces of mirth and leaving only soft love in its wake. It must have shown in his face, in the quirk of his fond smile, in the gentle warmth of his eyes, because Dream set his phone aside and reached a hand out, an invitation and demand all in one, and Hob snorted lightly. You could take the Endless out of the Dreaming, but you couldn't take the Dreaming out of the Endless; he was a King through and through. Luckily for Dream, Hob was as devoted as a knight and he went easily, as if pulled by puppet strings to Dream's side.

---

Later, loose-limbed and buried under a veritable mountain of blankets in Hob's bed and embrace, Dream was back to scrolling. Hob didn't hold it against him--being disconnected from the Waking world for so long must have been disorienting, especially with the technological advances of the twentieth and twenty-first century, and Hob couldn't answer every question his lover had. The internet was by far the better source of niche information and Hob was humble enough to admit it.

He could feel the moment, however, that the internet betrayed him. Dream stiffened in his arms and Hob bit at the inside of his lips to keep from chuckling.

"You are many things, Hob Gadling," Dream said lowly, "but I never took you for a liar."

And then Hob really did laugh. He couldn't help it; it rose in his stomach like champagne bubbles, bursting with tinkling joy. By the time he caught his breath, there were tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and Dream was huffing in laughter next to him.

"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to," Hob gasped, breathless from the hilarity of the situation. "It was just-"

"A meme," Dream said, all traces of anger gone from his voice. "So this Goncharov, it never existed?"

"I'm afraid not."

"That is a shame," Dream mused. "I had found myself quite looking forward to seeing it."

Hob pressed his lips, and with them, his fond smile, to Dream's hair.

"Perhaps you could inspire its creation," he said. "After all, stories must start somewhere, right?"

And if Hob dreamed of a flickering flame igniting two cigarettes, of bloody hands clenched around a gun, of a clock tower in the snow, well... he had always suspected that his sleeping mind was Dream's testing ground. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, they would reap the benefits of Dream's tests. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, Goncharov would take shape and take hold in someone's mind. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, they would be able to see Goncharov in all of its revived glory.

But for now, it was merely a dream, a whisper of potential in a collective mind. Perhaps, one day...

[ink-the-squid-gremlin]

I spent last night putting effort into something stupid. (I’ll probably post the full thing later today)

[spinningalbinoturtle]

Social Media headcanons

Aragorn

Has an official Instagram and Facebook accounts as a head of state. He also has a private account that his friends follow him on: strideranger alternatively strangerranger or rangerdanger on tiktok. His insta consists solely of pictures of his horse, Arwen and occasionally videos of cool plants or wildlife. He captions thing like an old man. His Tiktok is tracking tutorials and again nature videos. He hates twitter and isn’t on it.

Legolas

All the social medias his names include princeofmirkwood, andmybow, and legolocks. Has over a million followers in insta, tiktok and twitter. He posts lots of glammy photos of himself in the woods and tutorials of how to keep your hair and makeup intact in the battlefield. He also edits slow mows of himself shooting orcs. Doesn’t have Facebook because he claims its “for old people” despite being the second oldest member of the fellowship Posts his random thoughts in twitter and gets like thousands of retweets every time

Gimli

anmyaxe, lordofglitteringcaves, gimlet, are some of his names. Posts angry rants on twitter and faceboo. Regularly gets into internet fights with trolls. Posts videos on tiktok of his various stone projects and his workout routine (the latter gets a lot of views) Everyone loses it when he and Legolas team up for a “elf braid vs dwarf braid” youtube video. Oh yes he also has a very popular youtube channel where he explains how to of various craft trades.

Pippin

Has made foolofatook his name for everything and also a hashtag. Huge on twitter and twitch, he also has insta and tiktok and a youtube channel with Merry. Said Youtube is very popular and involves pranks, media reviews, and him and Merry doing stupid shit

Merry

Does a lot of work on the channel with Pippin. Also has a twitch and twitter. Insta king people think he’s really cool. He is the kind of person who shares his progress on candy crush and duolingo. Tried to make merrychristmas his username but it was taken and so went with theweedprofessor. His tiktok is more popular than Pippin’s but Pippin’s twitter is more popular

Sam

Not huge on social media mostly got it because his friends peer pressured him into it. Has facebook and always says happy birthday to people on it but gets annoyed by all the politics. His instagram is samnotsowise alternatively gardeningamgee. Its super wholesome, lots of pictures of his plants and pets and him and Frodo. Sometimes he’ll post a poem

Frodo

Frodo would be on tumblr tho. Username is bagginit on insta and frodoninefingers on twitter which he never uses. His tumblr is ringringhello. He also has insta but rarely posts anything except occasionally a picture of Sam. He has a linguistics Youtube channel where he talks about elvish history and language. Actually the most political on social media this is because Frodo has a very strong moral compass and wants to get the word out about important issues.

Boromir

He’s a twitch streamer I’m sorry. He also has twitter at hornofgondor. Likes everyone of Merry and Pippin’s videos and posts and reposts them with captions like “love these guys!!!” Mostly shares memes on twitter and facebook very much dad vibes

Gandalf

Posts weird shit that no one understands on facebook and instagram at thegreywizard

Bilbo

He has facebook and likes to tag his relatives in things that he knows will annoy them. Other than that he just posts memories of Frodo like the proud parent he is Like every birthday he’ll post something really sweet and sappy like “so proud of the young man he’s become”

Elrond

He gets in trouble on twitter sometimes but not nearly as much as Thranduil

Faramir

Insta and tiktok at stewardstew. Mostly posts pics of his cats. Reposts everything Eowyn posts. Likes to uplift his friends. Answers citizen questions on official gondor accounts very warmly. Also shares memes

Eowyn

She has a podcast and everyone has been a guest at some point. She highlights inequalities in middle earth. Lots of reposts of feminist events and programs. Badass pics of her with her sword on her insta and tiktok. She does lots of tiktok challenges. Her username is iamnoman on tiktok and eowinner on instagram

Arwen

Like legolas is all over insta posts lots of glammy photos in the woods as well. But she also shares a lot of Eowyn’s posts. Posts lots of inspirational quotes and stuff. Is really into yoga and posts about that as well. Her name on all social medias is evenstarwen

[carmesi-butterfly]

twitter

nishimura riki + fem! reader. word count 1,5k. not idols au/school au. warnings stalking (?) this one-shot is probably the most unserious thing i've ever written. not proofread.

"i checked your twitter account," said riki, trying to maintain a serious face and failing miserably, a few giggles came out of his mouth while he attempted to act normal.

"eh? that's not possible, my account is private" you looked at him with confusion, trying to decipher his weird laugh.

your twitter account has been a recurrent topic since both became friends, first of all because; who doesn't have twitter? it was the diary of the new generations, most of the teenagers had a profile in there! of course, you were one of them, but the way that you treated your account like confidential information made the japanese boy pretty suspicious.

it was a private account with no more than 15 followers, most of them probably were internet friends because it wasn't a novelty that you were not social by any means, on the contrary, you could be considered a loner, because of that, the apparent "state secret" hiding in your profile made ni-ki more than curious about what you could be secreting.

"i don't want you to get mad at me" pleaded, following that he proceeded to show you an interesting account that you knew well.

a profile named 'riri', with one of those famous headers with silly quotes you can find on pinterest and as an icon an orange cat with the emoji ☝️ referring to the recent meme that became viral, to finalize the bio was decorated with the phrase 'proud hater'. you got a request from that account just a few weeks ago, it followed most of the people you followed so it wasn't any suspicious to you, besides that's how you made a few of your friends! Following or being followed by oomfs of your oomfs, that's how social media works.

"that's you?" your voice raised annoyed and nervous, "you used that account to stalk me?!" with anger, you got up from your seat on the school rooftop.

"i wanted to know why you're hiding things from me!" his tone matched yours, being not loud enough to be heard by the other students who navigated through the school.

"if i hide things from you there's a reason!" your mood escalated from there, not only did your anger grow bigger but an immense urge to cry hit you.

“i-i know… I’m sorry y/n, i thought it would be something stupid, not that you like me”

riki brings your biggest secret into the conversation without any filter, dropping it like a not-warned bomb that fell into you and unloaded the last level of emotions you were hiding on a facade of pure rage.

now everything made sense, his giggly laugh without a reason while looking at you, the weird things he said that seemed like an inner joke you could not understand, the weird “i know your secret” he released randomly in your conversations... you thought it was all a joke! it's nishimura riki that we’re talking about. He enjoys pranking and tends to do and say weird stuff, it could be a completely normal behavior for him, but no, this time it wasn't.

“why did you think doing this was a good idea?” you claimed, hiding your face between the palms of your hands while a few tears slid down your face.

“sunoo once said that he knows you like me, so heeseung gave me the idea of stalking your accounts for any signal but your accounts are private… so he helped me by making a stalking account, i know it was wrong. i'm sorry, please don't cry” he begged after confessing everything, trying to get near you therefore he could calm you at least a little bit.

“sunoo and heeseung know?!” you blurted, your eyes opened as if you were trying to imitate an owl’s gaze, and your hands transitioned from covering your face to holding it, any similarity with ‘the scream’ by edvard munch is just a coincidence.

“the whole group knows” announced, opening the hell gates with a simple phrase.

“riki are you kidding me?! i don't care that you know even if you violated my privacy, because i would've told you sooner or later, but your friends?! how humiliating, i’m never coming to school again” and the catharsis started, a big flow of verbal vomit came out of your mouth going from ‘they're probably making fun of me right now’ to ‘i’m gonna delete all my social media and never use my phone again’ all of this accompanied by fat tears.

the poor boy felt hopeless, watching you practically going insane in front of him without knowing what to do to help you, or more reasonably: how to amend his mistake. luckily for him, his guardian angels appeared in the scene to help him, hiding behind the door of the rooftop heeseung (the one responsible for this mess) and jungwon (a heart warmed soul who wanted to help his friend) were hiding, their faces full of horror admiring the scene that was unloading in front of them. what happens next is worthy of a comedic movie. His friends started a physical and exaggerated demonstration of how he should calm you, hugging each other and emphasizing comfort acts such as back patting and forehead kissing. ni-ki would've burst out laughing if it wasn't for you crying like a baby.

“please don't cry, i’m sorry, you can beat me all you want if it makes you feel better” proposed completely seriously, while slowly without trying to upset you more he got closer, searching to imitate the “comforting” hug he saw his friends do, let's not lie… it was a bit awkward, but he tried and that's okay.

gradually you ended up relinquishing the embrace, starting by clinging to him delicately and finishing by squeezing his torso the strongest you could.

“beating you is not enough, i need you to die” your voice came out weird because of the amount of strength you were applying to the “hug”, but despite that, your head relied on his chest.

“you will suffer a lot without me!” a small laugh flew out of his mouth, refreshing the conversation. “are you still mad at me?” the nishimura looked down, searching for your face and any kind of reaction from it.

“yes” your response was cut and short, it could've worried your crush if it wasn't for the water dripping off your nose because of all the crying.

“u-uhm, i have something to tell you, maybe this will help you feel better” his heart started to beat faster and you could feel it through the hug, he cleared his throat in a way of trying to shake the nerves out, “the reason i did all of this stupid plan was that… i had hopes that you talked about me there, uhm…” a small pause to take a big breath after the confession interrupted the moment, but he quickly picked up the conversation, “my friends encouraged me to confess, specially sunoo, you know that he has a sixth sense with gossip” joked.

“you're telling me that… you did all of this because you like me?” you asked dumbfounded, the question got him more embarrassed than he already was, why did it make him sound so stupid?

he nodded, ignoring your attempt at visual contact while trying to hold back his smile. “then, do you feel better now?”

“no” denied, “but i know what can make me feel better” and after saying that, a naughty smile appeared on your face.

“what? i will buy you a lot of food from the cafeteria if that's what you want-”

his phrase got interrupted by you, who continued speaking, “do you remember… when i found that folder on your phone that had a ton of pictures of you trying to fake your muscles? how would you feel if i told your friends about it?” ni-ki’s smile disappeared instantly, now his face reflected nothing more than true terror.

in a matter of seconds, your bodies separated and you started running to the rooftop door. riki knew what you were trying to do, getting into the school, searching for his friends, and revealing his shameful secret! this can't be, but after being a bad friend things were not on his side, he tried following you the fast as he could but forgot a small detail, his friends hiding behind the gate. as soon as you got to the exit the spot where the two boys were hiding got exposed and both seemed nervous about that, but you couldn't care less.

“hi, guys! it's so nice to see you, i have something amazing to tell you!” your acting, so giggly and happy relaxed jungwon and heeseung who were scared of being scolded for spying. “did you know that riki-”

at that exact moment, the japanese covered his ears, not wanting to hear all the things you might be saying to his comrades who surely were going to make fun of him until the day he died. well, at least he can make fun of them because he got a girlfriend (even if you aren't his girlfriend yet) and they don't!

[lilsoftext]

•~* ARGUMENT T BEFORE BED *~•

-chris sturniolo x female reader

summery : chris and sof had argument before bed

——————————————————————————

The dim light of the living room cast long shadows on the walls, a silent witness to the tension that hung heavy in the air. Chris sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped tightly together as he stared at the floor. The remnants of dinner sat cold on the table, plates barely touched, as if their argument had sucked all the life out of the evening. The room felt unnaturally quiet without Sof’s usual presence beside him, and the weight of their argument pressed heavily on his chest.

The fight wasn’t even that big, Chris thought to himself. But somehow, like many things between him and Sof lately, it had spiraled into something much larger. It was always the same argument: Sof spent too much time at work. Chris felt neglected, and Sof felt misunderstood.

“I don’t even know how we ended up here,” Chris muttered under his breath.

He sighed deeply, running his hands through his hair, frustration and guilt swirling in his mind. In the distance, he could hear the faint sound of Sof moving around in the bedroom, the soft creak of the bed frame as she settled under the covers. She hadn’t slammed the door, but the quiet way she’d closed it hurt just as much.

Chris played the argument back in his mind. He hated how these moments seemed to unfold the same way every time. He’d approach Sof about how absent she’d been lately, and she’d respond with how much she was doing for them. The look on her face when he’d brought it up again tonight—it wasn’t just tiredness, it was more than that.

"I feel like you’re never here anymore," Chris had said, his tone more exasperated than he intended.

Sof had frowned, crossing her arms as she stood in the kitchen, her back to him. "Chris, I’m working. It’s not like I’m out there doing nothing. You know how much this job means to me."

"I do," Chris had shot back, unable to hide the frustration in his voice. "But it feels like your job is all you care about sometimes. What about us?"

Sof had turned to face him, her eyes flashing with irritation. "I’m doing this for us. To build something for our future. You make it sound like I’m choosing work over you, but I’m not. I just have responsibilities, and it’s not like I can just drop everything whenever you feel lonely."

The words had hit Chris harder than he wanted to admit. He knew she wasn’t trying to hurt him, but it still stung. Every time they had this conversation, it ended with both of them feeling worse, like neither of them was truly being heard. The argument had escalated from there, both of them too entrenched in their own frustrations to see the other’s point of view.

Now, sitting alone in the living room, Chris felt that familiar knot of regret tightening in his stomach. He hadn’t meant to make her feel like she had to choose between him and her career. He was proud of her—more than proud, in fact. Sof was brilliant, passionate, and determined. She’d worked so hard to get where she was, and Chris admired her for that. But lately, it felt like she was always gone. Late nights at the office, weekends spent catching up on work, her phone constantly buzzing with emails and notifications. And Chris missed her.

He missed the small things, the little moments that had once filled their days. Cooking dinner together, laughing at some stupid meme on her phone, sharing a blanket while they watched Netflix. He missed the way her eyes used to light up when she talked about something she was excited about, missed the way she used to fall asleep on his shoulder while they were watching TV.

But more than anything, what gnawed at him now was the fear that their last interaction had been a fight. It wasn’t the first time they’d argued, but this time felt different. Maybe it was because they hadn’t spent much quality time together lately, or maybe it was because the argument had ended so abruptly, with Sof retreating to the bedroom without a word. Chris had called after her as she closed the door, but there had been no reply.

He rubbed his face with both hands, his heart heavy. He hated going to bed with things unresolved. What if something happened in the night? What if one of them didn’t wake up? He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t shake the thought. He’d lost someone before—his older brother, in fact—someone he never had the chance to make amends with. It had been sudden, a car accident, and Chris had been left with a lifetime of regret. They had fought the day before. It was the last thing Chris had said to him. Since then, Chris couldn’t stand the idea of leaving things unresolved with anyone he loved.

Sof knew this about him. She knew that Chris couldn’t sleep after a fight, couldn’t let things sit unresolved, especially not overnight. He’d told her once, early in their relationship, about his brother and the guilt he still carried with him. Sof had been so understanding back then, holding his hand and promising she would never go to bed angry. But tonight, everything felt different.

Chris stood up slowly, pacing the room. He glanced at the clock on the wall—it was well past midnight now, and he hadn’t heard a sound from the bedroom in over an hour. His heart pounded in his chest, the fear and guilt eating away at him. He couldn’t leave things like this. He couldn’t go to bed knowing that Sof was upset with him.

Quietly, Chris made his way down the hallway to the bedroom, his footsteps barely audible on the hardwood floor. The door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, he could see the soft glow of the bedside lamp still on. Sof was lying on her side, her back to the door, a small, still shape beneath the covers.

He hesitated for a moment, guilt washing over him. She looked like she was already asleep, and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb her rest after such a long, stressful day. But the thought of going to bed without making things right weighed too heavily on his mind. What if one of them didn’t wake up tomorrow? The thought chilled him to his core.

Gently, Chris pushed the door open and stepped inside, the soft creak of the hinges almost imperceptible in the quiet room. He walked over to the bed, stopping just beside her, and knelt down so he could be at eye level with her if she woke.

"Sof," he whispered, his voice soft and tentative. "Sof, wake up."

She stirred slightly, shifting beneath the blankets, but didn’t wake up. He hesitated again, biting his lip, but then reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Sof," he whispered again, a little louder this time.

Her body shifted, and she mumbled something under her breath before her eyes fluttered open, groggy and unfocused. She blinked a few times, clearly trying to shake off the fog of sleep.

"Chris?" she mumbled, her voice thick with drowsiness. "What… what is it? What time is it?"

"It’s late," he admitted softly. "I’m sorry for waking you, I just... I couldn’t sleep. Not like this."

Sof pushed herself up slightly, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Like what?"

Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t want to go to bed with you mad at me. I hate it when we fight, and I hate it even more when we don’t make up before going to sleep."

Sof looked at him for a long moment, her expression softening as she processed his words. She knew about his fear—the anxiety that something could happen in the night, and that their last words to each other could be angry ones. It was one of the first deep conversations they’d ever had, back when they were still learning about each other’s pasts. She knew how much it weighed on him.

"I’m not mad at you," she said quietly, her voice still laced with sleep. "I was frustrated, but I’m not mad."

Chris felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was quickly followed by guilt. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like your work isn’t important. I know how hard you work, and I know it’s important to you. I just... I miss you. I miss us."

Sof sighed softly, her eyes gentle as she looked at him. "I know. And I miss you too, Chris. I don’t want you to feel like I’m not here for you, but sometimes it feels like you don’t understand how much pressure I’m under at work. I’m doing my best to balance everything, but it’s hard."

Chris nodded, his throat tight. "I know it is. And I don’t want to add to your stress. I just... I just want to feel like we’re in this together. Like we’re still a team, you know?"

Sof reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "We are a team. And I’m sorry if it doesn’t feel that way sometimes. I’ve been so focused on work that I didn’t realize how much I’ve been neglecting us."

He squeezed her hand back, the tension in his chest easing a little. "I just want to be with you, Sof. Even if it’s just for a little while before bed. I don’t need grand gestures or anything. I just miss being close to you."

Sof’s expression softened even more, and she shifted over in the bed, making space for him. “Come here,” she said quietly.

Chris didn’t hesitate. He climbed into bed beside her, and as soon as he lay down, she curled up next to him, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and for the first time that night, he felt a sense of peace settle over him.

They lay there in the quiet for a while, the warmth of each other’s bodies a silent reassurance. Sof’s breathing was soft and even, and Chris could feel her heart beating against his side, steady and comforting.

“I love you,” Chris whispered into the quiet, his lips brushing the top of her head.

“I love you too,” Sof murmured, her voice barely audible as sleep began to pull her back under.

Chris pressed a gentle kiss to her hair, his arms tightening around her. The fear that had gnawed at him earlier was gone, replaced by the warmth of Sof in his arms, by the knowledge that they were okay. That they were still a team.

And as they lay there, their bodies entwined, the argument from earlier felt like a distant memory. Whatever tomorrow brought, they would face it together.

thats all. i hope you enjoyed it. let me know down below if you have any ideas or if you want me to write something that you want.

lilsoftext<3

[xo-zozo]

ok ok that jameson social media hcs post was so good so can I request the rest of the hawthorne brothers on social media :)

aww tysm!! ofc

tags | @flowers-for-em @nqds @sophiesonlinediary @reminiscentreader @stqrsbythepocketful @lxvebelle @lyrakanefanatic @x-liv25-jamieswife @clarissaweasley-10 @zoyaaaabear @off-to-the-r4ces

grayson 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

he definitely dosent post/go on social media as much as jameson or xander

the few times he does post it’s either for a birthday or for things that are happening with the foundation and the grandest game

occasionally he does lyra though (you’re welcome i mentioned her)

says that only has instagram and no other socials (that he uses) but he secretly has a pinterest account that only max knows out about somehow

although he dosent post that much he definitely comments things on his brothers posts about how low key stupid they are

another kind of thing he would post would be his photography (which by the way did we just come up with this because i don’t remember this being mentioned in the books i’m just going for it)

he posts avery and jameson’s wedding photos because he was the one who took some of them

along with those cute photos he posts weird photos of jameson as a kid in honor of him getting married

everytime he posts there’s always people in his comments asking him to get a snapchat

his posts usually don’t have captions for some reason unless it’s really important

xander 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

like jameson, he posts a lot more on his socials than jameson and nash

he has it all too (instagram, twitter, tiktok, snapchat, etc) AND somehow manages to stay active on it

on his stories he posts about random nerd stuff that nobody really cares about still watches because he’s a cutie patootie

he posts all of the gifts that he gives max because it’s like what he’s most proud of

makes an instagram post for every single occasion (birthdays, holidays, trips, etc)

somehow manages to reply to most of the comments on his posts (he dosent get out much)

whenever he posts max, he’s required to her parents accounts just because they said so (idek it just makes sense)

he’ll randomly post a pic of him watching some super popular youtuber and people will go insane

goes to instagram to ask for advice, movie recs, books recs, etc but never ends up taking the advice

if people ask to take photos with him and post it, he reposts it because he’s just so nice

genuinely responds to gossip videos about him and like half of the times he forgets to deny it

sometimes he sees these videos about his brothers or avery and he goes and like actually asks them if it’s true “just to make sure”

nash 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

i feel like he would be a lot like grayson and only post on big events

but unlike grayson, when these events come around his posts are always extravagant

he writes super long captions for libby’s and avery’s and his brothers birthdays and everyone thinks it’s really sweet

sometimes people just notice the fact that he’s liked some videos online and it becomes a meme or something

will literally never comment on things online because he doesn’t wanna start problems

unless someone says something about his loved ones then he’s getting into a whole online bettle with them

sometimes libby is the one posting on his account and he dosent even take down the things that she posts

he definitely has a tumblr account as a teenager and he’s mentioned it in interviews but no one has found it yet

and yet again, somehow max is the only one who knows the username

he definitely posted for mr and mrs laughlin’s anniversary and made everyone else do it just for the cause

the wedding post of him and libby was extraordinary on his account

[thedeviltohisangel]

For A Fortnight There We Were: What About Your Quiet Treason?

a/n: some more early days of ev/cal. featuring a little vacation for them with her friends, some miscommunication and some feelings being brought to light. also once again features evelyn's friendship with the tellers because i am obsessed with them and think the four of them could get into so much trouble together. as always, i continue to insert her into the modern day whenever something pops up but please feel free to send blurb requests for them as well! so much of their future and the angst i have kept a secret and i am so proud of myself. love you all!

She knew looking in her DMs or Twitter mentions was never going to end well. They were a sordid place of opinions and accusations and no matter how much positivity was sprinkled in, it was so hard to see. After pictures of her lounging on the deck of a yacht in the Amalfi Coast with a lanky man with brown curls kissing her neck were publicized a few days ago, she hadn’t been able to look away.

They were flooded with screenshots of Callum’s Raya profile, allegedly still active, and more private DMs of WhatsApp conversations that showed the cell phone number Evelyn had saved in her own contact for him. Her melancholia was threatening to swallow her whole as she curled up on her side on the boat’s salon.

“Hey! You were taking awhile so I-” Kelleigh paused as a barely repressed sob shook Evelyn’s shoulders. “Babe, oh no, what’s wrong? What happened?” Kelleigh dropped next to her on the couch and hugged her as best she could, her cheek resting on her arm.

“It’s easier if I just show you.” Ev sat up and handed Kelleigh her phone, her knees drawn into her chest as her friend’s eyes skimmed the screen.

“All this could be old, Ev. It might not mean anything.”

“The messages are dated from a few weeks ago while I was in Toronto.” The words of them seemed innocuous. Pleasantries and laughing emojis and memes. It was irrational but it felt like something special about their blossoming relationship was being taken away. Like him sending photos of Golo or his morning tea to these girls meant they meant as much or as little to him as Evelyn. “I’m so fucking stupid for falling for it.” Her forehead hit her kneecaps as she tried to hide her shame.

“We don’t know what exactly we are looking at yet,” her friend cooed, “this could all be one big misunderstanding.” 

“It’s my fault. I should have never let myself get attached. I should have known better to wait until everything with Logan was finalized.” The universe was punishing her for being happy. For falling in love with someone else while she was still married. 

“Cal is fucking crazy about you. Your heart and your gut know that and know how you feel.”

“He hasn’t even asked if we are exclusive. Doesn’t call me his girlfriend.” Kelleigh sighed and reached to grab Evelyn’s hand. She knew Callum was confused and conflicted. Last night, after their group dinner and hours of dancing, Evelyn and a few others tucked themselves into bed but Cal had stayed up for one last cigarette. Kelleigh had stayed up with him to pick the brain of the man one of her best friends was falling in love with.

“Evelyn is like a sister to me and Miles,” Kelleigh started, “I watched the way her marriage ate her away. And somehow her divorce feels even worse. If you aren’t going to be there for her for the long haul, you should go now before it’s too late.” It was obvious with the way Evelyn looked at him. The way she blushed and giggled at his every word and every touch. The way she had held his hand like a vice at the club and fed him bites of her dessert at dinner. All of the friends who knew her before Logan saw that version of her finally seeping back into her bones. Callum was most certainly the cause of it but if he was going to fly her high and leave her to crash to earth on her own, she needed to know now.

“I am living the happiest days of my life with her. Being with her like this makes me feel like I am exactly where I’m meant to be.” God, he straight up fucking loved her. But that was too complicated to introduce. “But I don’t know how to navigate shit with her and her ex.” None of it was normal, all of it was new. Were they dating? Were they supposed to start calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend?

“She’s just as confused as you, I promise. Do you want something real with her? Something with labels and commitment? Even if it means putting up with Logan and his bullshit?” Kelleigh felt like she was hyping up the man in front of her. Trying to spark that passion in his chest to fight for Evelyn tooth and nail the way she deserved. 

“I do. I want that. But not at the expense of her peace and stability.” Logan was incensed with every blurry photo or DailyMail tabloid story that came out about them and Ev took the brunt of it. If his presence in her life was adding fuel to that fire, maybe his departure was as necessary as it was tragic.

Kelleigh scoffed, “Just another fucking way he’s trying to control her.” Callum snuffed out his cigarette and moved to stand in front of her.

“You know her best. If I just straight up ask her to dive in with me, ask her to commit to this feeling between us and put a label on it and run off into the sunset with me, will she do it or am I just scaring her away?” 

She had told him that Evelyn would in a heartbeat. Wanted to tell him she thinks her friend really loved him. Was maybe getting some semblance of hope back for her future. But now, looking at the screenshots her friend was showing on her phone, maybe she shouldn’t have been so encouraging. 

“Ev? Evvie?” The deep, British voice belonging to the male in question reached their ears, Callum standing on the deck of the boat toweling off as he looked around for her. “Hey, there you are.” All their friends that had been splashing around the Mediterranean waters were climbing back onto the yacht to get ready for dinner. The last thing Evelyn wanted was to cause a scene or have her personal emotions on such public display. 

“Here I am.” She stood in the hopes she could run off in the name of getting ready to avoid him but he was over to her side in two steps and bending down to kiss her. Both her hands on his chest served to stop him but the way she turned her face so his lips barely kissed the side of her head served to freeze his heart. “Gonna go get changed for dinner.” Her back was to him in an instant and he stayed exactly where he was as she disappeared down the spiral staircase to the cabin they were sharing. The same cabin where they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms every night and woken each other up with kisses and caresses. The same cabin where he had made love to her over and over again with the softest and gentlest of touches. A tenderness only a lover could possess. 

“Did I miss something?” he heard the first whisper. 

“I thought they were good.” Went the second whisper. 

“If you could even call them a they,” was the final straw before he was following after her. He tried the doorknob to the room but it was locked and his heart started pounding in his chest. 

“Ev? Please let me in.” His forehead dropped to the door and he swears he heard the sounds of a sob. Her sob. The sobbing of the woman he loved. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please let me in so I can fix it.” Clearly he had upset her. Clearly something had happened in between waking up naked and twined together and playing with each other’s fingers and now, refusing his kisses and locking a door between them. Her feet padded closer and he stood up straighter. There was sniffling. She was definitely crying. 

“There’s nothing for you to fix, Callum. I expected too much from you. I’m used to being let down by my own expectations and I should have known better.” His brows furrowed together and panic began to set in. 

“No, you…you deserve the world, Evelyn. You’re right. I haven’t been doing my best in giving that to you. Haven’t been as open and honest with you as I should have.” She wanted to laugh. Of course even now he was saying the right thing. Promising her he would change if she would just give him another chance. Promising he could and would do better at being the partner she deserved in this life.

“You’re seeing other girls.” It was unfair and she knew it. Nothing between them was defined and she had only asked that he not sleep with anyone else if he was going to sleep with her. There had been no conversation about dating other girls. Evelyn had been afraid to make it so real.

“What?” He didn’t try to stop the incredulity from seeping into his voice. “What…Where…Who is saying that?” She finally opened the door and he was greeted with ruddy cheeks and damp eyes.

“All day I’ve been getting screenshots of you on dating apps and of conversations you’re having with them and I’m sick to my stomach thinking about it.” Evelyn felt used. Felt dirty. Felt like every accusation she had defended him against was for nothing. That maybe she should have heeded their warnings. 

“I didn’t delete the profile because it felt like signing you up for something you weren’t ready for. Like if I took this too seriously then I’d be pushing you away.” There was no use in lying about it. The profile was his but he hadn’t been using it. To be honest, he thought she’d be more freaked out by him deleting it because that would signal his view of their relationship as serious.. A conversation they hadn’t had yet and he was hesitant to bring up. “And yes. A couple of them I gave my number to. Texted and flirted and whatever else it is people are sending you. I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen, Ev.” She turned and walked deeper into the cabin, Callum following and closing the door behind him for privacy. She landed in the chair of her vanity with a heavy sigh and looked at him like she could see his soul. 

“Are you sleeping with other girls?” His face contorted in disgust. 

“No. Absolutely not.” The one aspect of their relationship that they had defined. That under no circumstances would they have sex with someone else while they were having sex with each other. As if either of them had even looked at someone since their night in Chelsea months ago. He ran his hand through his hair with frustration. “Fuck, Evelyn, I’m trapped between wanting to dive head first into this thing with you and acting like it’s just some casual fun between friends.” He was at such a loss. Keep his options open so he looked like he didn’t care and could put the pieces together if she dropped him. Worship her on his knees until she offered him some kind of idea of the future. 

“Well,” her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears, “I’ve come to a decision about that this afternoon.” Callum braced himself for the impact. Figured she had been in here working on ways to let him down easy. Break his heart in two rather than millions. 

“You don’t got to say it, Ev. I’ll pack my bag while you’re at dinner. Be out of your hair before you get back.” The towel was tossed into the corner of the room with a hint of anger as he felt tears well behind his eyes. The woman he loved, slipping from his grasp. He had agonized over every word and action to try and prevent this from happening. Had accepted the complications that came from being with her while she was still legally married. Still going through her divorce in the public eye. Even though it was ending, it had all been worth it for these months they had shared together. He just wished it could have been forever. 

“That is the last thing I would ever want.” She stood and walked towards him, her forehead resting between his shoulder blades. “I never want to be without you, Callum, that’s what I decided this afternoon. That it all hurt so bad because of that fact.” Her arms wrapped around his torso and he tangled their fingers together, bringing the back of her hand to his lips. 

“I don’t ever want to be without you either,” he whispered. He twisted in her embrace so they were chest to chest. Her eyes captured his own, strong and sure in their conviction that she was doing the right thing. 

“I’m falling in love with you,” she revealed. “I need you to know I’m not scared. I’m ready for this to be a real relationship. I’m ready for the labels and the commitment. Ready to be with you in every way that I possibly can.” The thought of him being someone else’s, in any capacity, had scared her to her core. She had never felt so possessive over someone or something. Never felt like she owed it to herself to try so much. 

“Say that again,” he hummed against her lips. He urged her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed.

“Which part?” she asked breathlessly as her back hit the mattress and he landed on top of her. 

“The part about falling in love with me,” kisses draped across her jawline, “or maybe how you are ready to commit to me,” down her throat, “actually, I also liked the part where you want to be with me in every way possible.” So badly did he want to lose himself in kisses along her chest and throat and all the inches of her skin that were exposed by her skimpy bathing suit. But this moment felt like he should look her in the eyes. Memorize how they looked back at him and held someone on the precipice of falling in love.

“I’m falling in love with you,” she smiled and traced her thumb along the lines of the smile that was spreading across his face. “I’m ready for commitment with you. I want to be with you in every way possible.” Callum laughed, a full throated and powerful laugh, ducking his face into the crook of her neck. Evelyn’s own pure happiness bubbled out of her in a laugh as she hooked her legs around him and held him against her tightly. 

“Am I supposed to call you my girlfriend now?” he asked as he lifted his head. 

“And you can be my boyfriend, just as if we are back in school.” His nose knocked against hers twice before his lips landed on hers. 

“I know it wasn’t easy for you to say those things, Ev. I want you to know they mean everything to me. Being with you means everything to me.” He knew that the road ahead of them wasn’t going to be easy either. That it was marred with traps hiding in the shadows, maybe some even in plain sight, but at the end of it was something so golden and pristine it would have to be worth it. 

“No more pretending,” she whispered. No more walking separately into a restaurant. No more distancing themselves at night clubs. No more solo trips to the grocery store or posting photos without him in it or hiding the evidence he had spent the night with her. 

“God, I’m going to kiss you so fucking much at dinner tonight.”

And he did.

And she felt loved.

She was.

[evadewilson]

hi all, thought i would make a quick post introducing myself — i go by Lance online (he/him) and i’m a reader/writer/artist, an old hat at fandom, and a newly minted spideypool shipper. i like to post little bits and pieces that get stuck in my head, memes, ideas/prompts, and reblog lots of art.

eventually i may post my own art/writing but at this stage i’m just here to look! — this blog is run by an adult (i am in my mid 20’s) and for other adults.

it isn’t specifically nsfw so i put 18+ in my bio because i don’t want to expose any minors to nsfw content that i may post/reblog in the future. in saying that, i used to be a minor in fandom spaces and i understand that an 18+ warning can’t keep them out so whatever.

i’m incredibly receptive to interaction and i love when people add tags to my posts, suggest things in the comments, etc etc. once again… spideypool fanfic… save me…. i have a whole post where i am on my knees begging authors and pals to link their favourite spideypool fics. PLEASE YALL.

account related housekeeping below:

i’m incredibly cool/comfortable with pretty much any ship (particularly surrounding spidey and ‘pool, so if you’re a poolverine shipper, etc etc. hello and welcome. i have many peripheral ships and will likely engage with those (scott/logan, peter/johnny, peter/mj, wade/almost anyone…)

another thing— i don’t care what versions of peter and what deadpool get shipped together. when i’m talking about spider-man i’m usually thinking mcu spidey because civil war/hoco came out when i was a teenager, and although i grew up with tobey and andrew’s spidermen, i got very attached to tom’s spidey and he’s the one who stuck with me. i usually mix canon when i’m discussing spideypool (combining all of the spider men’s movie plots, spider-man and deadpool’s comics, deadpool’s movies, etc.) feel free to imagine whoever or whatever you want!

IN SAYING THAT — i keep having to remind folks that mcu!spider-man/tom holland’s spider-man is officially born in 2001 and therefore 23 as of the time i’m making this post. he’s not a minor so please stop jumping on my ass about this 🙏 in any case, he’s a fictional character, just let people live.

if you condemn or attack anybody for their fandom/fanfic/fiction preferences you are not welcome here.

personally i think a “do not interact” criteria is stupid because most of the people that i don’t want to interact with aren’t going to be sensible or respectful enough to conscientiously decide to not interact with me/my content. in saying that i do NOT fuck with racists, transphobes, terfs, antis, people who engage in ship wars, xenophobes, or zionists. i am a loud and proud activist who believes in land back, a free Palestine, free and safe fandom spaces, and every human being’s right to self determination.

if you’ve made it this far, congrats! ⭐️ here is your official welcome badge. pull up a seat and get comfy. lfg

[polarisbibliotheque]

Are you into MBTI? If yes, may I ask for your idea on DMC characters types? If no then feel free to skip this ask, sorry for bothering you.

First things first, my beloved: DON’T APOLOGIZE. None of you are EVER bothering me by sending an ask – unless, of course, you’re completely crass, deranged, borderline criminal (or full criminal) with your words or just gratuitously rude. Those types are bothersome and will get blocked and ignored.

Unless I’m on an Axl Rose like rampage and want to burn and fistfight people along my way, then I’ll use the stupid being in question to pour all my anger and have a good reason to spend hours in therapy :)

But you are NOT one of those, my dear. That’s a very fun question and do feel free to ask me random things like that, I enjoy answering!

Now, I’m not really big on MBTI – I know enough about mine and my family’s so I can make things work between me and them. I also like to know my friends MBTI’s because the memes are usually freakishly accurate with all our personalities xD

I am an INTP! Quite proud, if I might say so hahahaha I like the weird vibes and I have adopted in my heart Sherlock Holmes as an INTP ‘cause he was my role model when I was a teen (I know, HORRIBLE role model, but it is what it is) – and that’s how I got into MBTI.

(more under the cut, this answer is LONG)

Big introduction for me to say: VERGIL, THIS LITTLE SHIT. INTJ. I DON’T EVEN HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT.

I’ll start with him and then Dante. I won’t share my 2 cents on the rest of the crew because either they aren’t that much developed as the twins or I’m not really trusting my MBTI judging abilities here.

Without further ado…

Vergil

I debated quite a WHILE on Vergil, to be honest, because we all know INTJ is the typical villain archetype used everywhere on media because heaven forbid a villain is not calculating and devoided of emotions.

And there’s where I got a little stuck: emotions.

Vergil does have emotions, and I dare to say his run even deeper than Dante’s, so I got a little sidetracked. But then I took my own personality, INTP, and thought about it for a while. I have the same problem as Vergil: my emotions do run deep and I’m always guarding them in a dark, secret place inside of me so I won’t get hurt, opting for a more thinking, analytical and practical approach rather than the feeling approach. And oh boy does my life get difficult with feeling types like my aunt, my mom and even my sister.

I got to the conclusion, then, it’s not how you feel, but rather how you present yourself. I took the test as if I was Dante (I needed that to figure him out, not sorry) and a lot of questions are more leaning on that. It’s not that you don’t feel or don’t understand feelings, it’s more like you have a different approach when doing things and processing all of that – because it can be quite overwhelming.

So, there we go, Vergil is BLATANTLY Introverted and Thinking. The Introverted I got from what I heard some people saying that it’s not that “oh I like talking to people/I don’t like talking to people”, it’s energy: at the end of the day, do you prefer being alone to recharge or around people to recharge?

Me and my sister are opposites on that. My sister was always quieter and shy when she was a kid, and I was expansive and always came back with a new friend. Lo and behold, I’m an Introvert and she is an Extrovert. How? I HAVE and I NEED time alone, completely for myself, with NO ONE around at certain times of the day and I do get AWFULLY tired when I’m being social for too long, needing some me time with tea and a good book. My sister NEEDS to be around her friends after a long, tiring week at work, famously going to 3 parties in a row, in 3 different days, different groups, outfits and all, exiting one party to go to the other, and then BAM going to work on a Monday completely replenished. I’m an Introvert. She is an Extrovert.

Dante and Vergil seal of approval here hahahahaha

His Intuitive part, though, comes from the art – poetry, philosophy, reading, education. Vergil is obviously BIG on that, loving poetry since he was a child and always being found in libraries, we can all picture him going to art galleries, concerts, operas and such. But, particularly, I extend that to his thirst for knowledge: everyone who enjoys reading the dense stuff he does, tends to fall for philosophy, sociology, the metaphysical part of physics, mathematics, all that. There was a reason why great mathematicians of the past were also philosophers: knowledge walks together.

Loving that deeply, Vergil has to be quite Intuitive. Yes, he will do things with discipline and how they should be done to achieve the result – but he will rebel and do things his own way if the knowledge he acquired so far points him to another direction; he will follow his intuition. He’s not one to dismiss the big questions in life: quite the contrary, I think one of his favorite past-times would be drinking wine along his s/o while talking about philosophy into the wee hours of the night as if they are the only people in the world.

Vergil is an open minded, curious and always searching for the meaning of things kind of person, and I will die on this hill. There is no way a guy who likes learning so much would be against challenging his own point of views: to learn, you have to first be a novice; and to improve, you have to admit there’s much you still don’t know and keep an open mind to fail and do it again, and again, and again, until you master what you are learning. Just the way he fights tells me he is very much like that and I’m still dying on this hill.

And lastly, Judging. No, not because he’s the judgy bitch of the series who’s always side-eying someone and sighing while saying “pathetic” just because they got scared by their own shadow. I have to say I wasn’t too sure on this one when I realized Vergil could end up as an INTP and that bitch can’t be an INTP like me, I claimed it.

Jokes aside, Vergil can be quite Perceiving at times, because, wanting or not, he has had his moments of needing to improvise and spot opportunities that weren’t quite on his schedule… But, I do have to admit, INTPs are a mess and Vergil is FAR from being a mess – and when I say a mess, we are everywhere: reading 5 books at the same time, leaving them scattered all around the house, laying upside down in bed to think and come up with a great idea for something… INTPs aren’t pragmatic or schedule oriented. And Vergil would DIE in an environment like this, I think.

So, my conclusion was: his ability to survive does come from his Perceiving characteristics, but his pragmaticism comes from his Judging – and the second is a lot stronger in him. He would like the schedule, he would do things as he has programmed and, if you interrupt him, he’s counting the minutes to go back to his schedule or else everything he has carefully programmed for the week will be delayed and his plans are all but GONE (read: Verge at the Temen-ni-gru screaming “WHY ISN’T THIS WORKING?!” when ALL the plans he carefully executed for WEEKS so he could get to THAT moment and open the gates of Hell just went down the drain ‘cause he missed something in his calculations. Man is in excruciating pain he missed something and ALL was for NOTHING and he’d have to TRY again).

Verdict: Vergil is an INTJ. Expected, annoyingly villainous personality, but it does fit him wonderfully.

Plus, we are the 'we don't have feelings' types :D

Dante

Oh, Dante. My beloved. My red devil. The man who haunts my dreams.

Seriously, I had a REALLY hard time pinpointing his MBTI.

Remember I said I took the test as him? Yes. I did. To check some things and argue against others hahahahaa

I don’t think Dante is as black and white as Vergil. The blue devil is almost textbook INTJ, but Dante…? I have my doubts on SO many parts of his personality, because, unlike Vergil, Dante does a LOT just for show.

Starting with the Extroverted/Introverted. Most people won’t even think before saying Dante is an Extrovert, but I had my doubts when taking things in consideration. What we usually see is that, yes, he does love being around people – but Dante spends most of his time alone, without electricity, reading his old magazines at his shop, sleeping or eating pizza by himself.

Depression? Yes. YES. This man is more depressed than the San Andreas Fault. This can make people behave differently from their personalities, so I had to think a little more about it. Dante doesn’t really go out of his way to be around people, to party with his friends or just have a nice time with them around. Dante wants to be alone, because he thinks he doesn’t deserve to be with people – and that they are better off without him, safer. He puts them in danger, at least that’s what’s on his mind. So, he isolates himself and prefers to spend time on his own, away from everything and everyone.

That’s where the energy thing comes into play! What gives Dante energy? Honestly, my man looks drained and just the dust of his being whenever they get to his shop and he’s been living in that condition for months. During the games AND after the games, though? He looks a lot better – even if he has been beaten up by a bunch of demons. And that’s because, I think, Dante gets energized by being around people – friends, family, loved ones. Just like my sister, he can conquer the world after going to 5 parties in a row. Vergil, in the other hand, would be drained and dying by the second one, just like Dante is when he hasn’t been around people too much, always isolating himself.

So, despite his depression that makes him behave differently, Dante is an Extrovert in my book.

One that I don’t even think too much about him is the Perceiving trait. Dante is like that, 10/10. He can’t thrive on a schedule, things in his life are Everything Everywhere All At Once, and my man is in his lane with that. Try to fit Dante in a box with a set routine and too many rules, he’s dying. Aside from that, he has a knack for improvising and finding the best opportunities in unexpected situations.

Hence why he has so many freaking weapons and is just using all of them and all of his fighting styles at the same time, taunting demons and dancing Macarena right after – and making it all look like it makes the most absolute fucking sense. No one can pull that off like Dante, king of winging it.

Now, I do believe he is Intuitive. Dante might not be the art and poetry type like Vergil, but he is well educated. He has to be, to do what he does. And I do believe his thing for philosophy shows when Dante is lecturing demons: that WHOLE answer he gives Agnus about what demons lack compared to humans, that is VERY much philosophy. Dante doesn’t just go and takes everything at face value, because, if he did, he would very much say the obvious: demons are, objectively, stronger than humans. But all the heart, all the internal things that make humans stronger than demons… That’s philosophy.

I can see Dante enjoying movies – blockbusters, yes, packed with action and special effects, but let’s remember… Titanic is a blockbuster. And there’s so much heart in that movie, so much philosophy, so much about choosing your own fate and not being tied to the one that was handed to you… Titanic can pack one hell of an existential punch and make you think about so much in your life – you just have to be open to it.

Differently from Vergil, Dante wasn’t the library and heavy books sort of guy. But he was the guy to go to the movies, to watch all of that. To go back home (wherever his home was at the moment, even if just a place for him to crash for a while) and think about everything he watched in the silent darkness of his room. To think about the things Eva taught him – and see the value of all that.

He’s not the type to go to an art gallery, or read philosophy, or go to the opera. But he will go if he is invited, he will discuss things the way he learned them, and he will enjoy it. He’d be more than willing to talk about what makes humans so precious and spend hours doing so, as he would be open to listen to his s/o explaining what makes him so human despite his demonic heritage. And he would spend days thinking about it, always willing to discuss those topics if his s/o wanted to.

He's not textbook Intuitive like Vergil, I think, but he still is, in his very own way. I’d say Vergil is academically Intuitive, while Dante learned his Intuitive trait on the streets – we all say Dante is a safespace for everything, and a man like has to be open minded and curious. If he wasn’t, he would have never welcomed Trish and given her a chance to be human: he would’ve killed her right away for being a demon. And that isn’t our red devil.

Last but not least, Dante is a Feeling. I’m always dying on this hill, even if that one ALSO made me have some doubts.

Because you see, Dante just pretends to be a goof, but he isn’t. He is very intelligent and cunning, very perceiving and observing, but wrapped in a reckless rockstar package. It’s his own way of coping, but that is what makes him SUCH a great devil hunter (sorry, Nero). Even if we might disagree on this, I do believe Dante has his emotions very much controlled.

Which is a little evidenced by the lyrics on his theme song in DMC V, Subhuman (I know we ALL love Bury The Light and Devil Trigger but OH MY GOD, I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT HOW SUBHUMAN IS AWESOME AND FITTING FOR DANTE). The song is VERY explicit how Dante is always controlling his rage and keeping his demon on a very tight leash so he has control over it all the fucking time. That isn’t very Feeling in my book – it’s quite Thinking, like Vergil.

That’s what made me think a little about Vergil’s as well. I have what might be an unpopular opinion about the twins after thinking so much about them and seeing how they react and act in all of the games: Vergil has a tendency to loose control and overkill, while Dante has a tendency to let his rage burn at the exact moment he needs it and use his power just as much as he needs to get the job done. Dante is more controlled with his emotions than Vergil – and in my opinion, it’s because Vergil bottles up and ignores his emotions until they become a storm that can’t be stopped (cough cough personal experience cough cough) while Dante controls things so he can use his emotions and let them be expressed/gets them off his system in “safe” environments for him, which would be killing demons.

So, why the heck is Dante a Feeling in my book? Precisely why Vergil is a Thinking. It has to do with how they present themselves – and that is the point that makes them so different and butt heads almost every game.

The devil on Dante’s leash is his rage, the feeling he allows and wants to run amok and uncontrolled is his love. Dante controls his bursts of anger and the demonic blood who craves for mayhem – but he doesn’t control his human heart that does everything out of empathy and love. He will run to the rescue when his loved ones are in danger, he will protect weak people against the powerful ones, he will lecture corrupted humans who see nothing but power in front of them, he will cry and he will do everything in his power to keep love alive and thriving. He will react immediately, he will understand, he will feel the pain of those who are injured and begging for help – he will let his heart melt and do everything for them.

Therefore, Dante is a Feeling. And I think that’s what makes him and Vergil opposites and always fighting: Vergil wants power and puts logic over feelings, avoiding them like the plague, while Dante wants love and puts feelings over logic, embracing them and acting out of what his human heart tells him is the right thing to do. The whole series is based on this – at least in my opinion.

Verdict: Dante is an ENFP. Didn’t really expect it, but after analyzing with care, it makes a lot of sense to me.

Also, all the memes with ENFP x INTJ relationship dynamics I just checked are basically Dante and Vergil in a nutshell - I’ll leave some of them below and you guys will HAVE to forgive me not really crediting the people who created these memes, I honestly just found on google and wanted to share so you can have an idea of what I’m talking about.

But I honestly have been wheezing for the past hour and I thank you SO MUCH anon for this ask – I hope you enjoyed this little TED Talk about the Sparda Twins’ personalities please Capcom hire me to write official canon about them

If this isn't Dante and Vergil, I dunno what is

And last but not least:

That's all the games in a nutshell, really.

[abiiors]

Just Let Me // M.H.

I got so carried away with this, my god. It’s best friends to lovers??? (read: idiots to maybe lovers). I am so proud of how this turned out and I genuinely hope you like it &lt;3 (reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated)

I’ve kinda tried an omniscient POV in this so I hope it works. It’s mostly angst but there’s a happy-ish end. A positive one at least.

WC: 3.2k (my longest yet)

Warnings - Reader is struggling with mental health, a whole lot of crying in this one, yelling too. And quite a lot of swearing

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Drabbles

Your phone buzzes with another notification in your hands and you stifle another groan. That makes it ten now. 

All you want to do is put on the saddest movie you can find, have a good cry about your day, week, month and then curl up under a million weighted blankets. You simply want to forget about your life for just an hour or two but Matty (or rather, fate) has different plans.

Normally, when he sends you useless memes and silly reels, you make sure to reply to all of them. You even send him stupid stuff in return but all you’ve managed today is to leave him on read. 

It takes too much energy to open DMs, to respond to them—the energy that you simply do not have today. It’s one of those days. Lately, it’s always one of those days. They might as well be the norm now. 

Are you ignoring me now?

His message makes your phone buzz again and you wonder if flushing it down the toilet is a good idea. 

Are you ignoring him? No, yes, maybe a little. But only because he’s just so intuitive when it comes to you. You sigh, open the text chain and start typing up a response. But it’s already too late. 

Your phone is buzzing again; this time with an incoming call. 

You consider pressing decline or just letting it go to voicemail but he won’t give up until he’s sure he hasn’t done another stupid thing to make you mad. So you simply send a quick prayer out into the universe and press Accept. 

‘Hello…’ you try so hard to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. But it cracks on the last syllable anyway.

There’s a small pause at the other end of the line and you know he’s analysing that voice break. The sound in the background slowly grows distant and fades away as you realise that he’s moved to some quieter location. 

‘So…’ he hesitates a bit and you can instantly sense the suspicion in that one tiny word. ‘Are you home?’

‘Yeah,’ you quietly try to clear your throat, ‘yeah, just got in.’

‘And how was your day?’

Shitty! 

‘It was fine,’ you move around a few things on the dresser, hope that the noise is enough to distract him from the shift in your tone. But he’s smarter than you give him credit for. 

‘You’re lying to me.’ It’s not a question, it’s a statement. 

‘I’m not—’

‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he interrupts, ‘I am not as stupid as you think I am.’

‘You sure about that?’ you try lamely but it lacks any of the usual laughter in your voice. 

‘Rude! And don’t even try that with me right now,’ his voice holds a rare sternness. It’s not that he’s wrong. He did correctly call you out on that lie. The fact that you’ve known each other for close to seven years now makes it so much harder to lie to him. You contemplate dropping the act. You contemplate telling him everything, all about how life has been so difficult to handle lately; how you constantly feel like you’ve bit off more than you can chew. 

But he’s so busy… And you don’t want to trouble him. 

Their new album is set to release in just a bit over a month and there are a plethora of last-minute things to do; thousands of special edition CDs to sign and finalising the last details of various interviews, finalising the details of the tours. 

‘I’m just a bit more tired than usual, I promise you,’ you bite your lip to keep it from wobbling and hope that it’s enough to convince him. 

‘I’ll see you in a bit.’ There’s no protesting the finality in his tone. Not like you have the chance to because he instantly hangs up after that. 

As much as it is not his fault, it feels like this phone call has leached out the last of your energy. All you want to do is curl up in a ball on the hardwood floor. So that’s exactly what you do. Five minutes turn to ten, turn to fifteen until you lose track of time. Your eyes burn from all the unshed tears and it’s hard to keep them open anymore but you cannot stop staring at the little pink stain on the rug. 

You remember how Matty messed around your house that summer, spilt nail polish on your (then) new rug. How you painted his nails in all the neon colours you owned as revenge. You remember him saying how the stain was his way of making sure you’d never forget about him. 

As if…

A few sounds manage to break through the buzzing in your ears. There’s the sound of tyres pulling in your driveway, the sound of a car door opening and closing. And at last, the jangling of keys as someone tries to open your front door. 

You instantly know who it is. You’ve had each other’s house keys for a good few years now and today, for the first time, you wish he didn’t have them. You wish he wasn’t here at all. You wish you had never picked up his call. 

In a minute, he’s going to walk in here and find you curled up on the floor like a lunatic. He’s going to think you’ve finally lost the last shred of sanity. 

In a minute, you’re going to look at him and find him looking back at you with barely concealed pity. 

In a minute he’s—

‘What…’ he interrupts your train of thought and you make the barest of effort to peek at him through the curtain of hair that’s fallen over your face.

Matty’s not alone; or rather, he’s not empty-handed. He’s holding the prettiest bunch of daisies you’ve ever seen as well as a giant Tesco bag. You don’t have to ask him to know that he’s bought all your favourite junk food and that sugary ice tea you love so much. You also hear a few wine bottles clinking in there. 

It’s too much, all of it. He’s being so considerate, so nice. And you have no strength left in you tonight to conceal the feelings that bubble up in the face of this niceness. It’s supposed to be priceless, this gesture yet all it manages to do is be the last fucking straw. 

The restraint snaps and your eyes flood with tears and now they can’t stop flooding with tears. When before your eyes burned from unshed tears, now they can’t stop shedding them. And you cannot control the gasps and sobs that are being torn out of you. 

He swears softly and then chucks everything in his hands on the settee. He wastes no time running to you, wrapping his arms around you as he tries to pull you into a sitting position.

‘Sweetheart, hey,’ he’s trying to be soothing which only makes you cry harder. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘I just got in,’ you blubber through the tears. It’s such a shitty excuse too but he doesn’t push it. 

‘I’m here,’ he says; repeats it over and over again like a mantra. 

His fingers caress your spine softly, almost lovingly but you refuse to think of it that way. What’s the point in romanticising simple comfort when it will only lead to more heartbreak?

‘Talk to me,’ he urges after a bit. 

‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ you shrug your shoulders, look anywhere but at him. ‘Everything is a bit overwhelming lately, that’s all.’

He softly touches your chin, tries to make you look at him but you won’t budge. 

‘You’re doing it again…’ 

‘Doing what again?’ If playing dumb is what gets him off your back then so be it. 

‘This…’ you see him point at you from your peripheral vision. ‘You’re pretending like it’s not a big deal.’

‘That’s because it’s not a big deal,’ you mumble. Your eyes snag on the photo on the wall. It’s Matty and Hann pointing at some graffiti on the Berlin Wall and making goofy faces and it almost makes you smile. You have fond memories of this trip, maybe even the last time you felt truly happy. 

His gaze follows yours and rests on the photograph. 

‘Remember how you kept butchering the lyrics to 99 Luftballons?’ The smile in his voice is evident and you know he’s thinking of the same memories that you are. 

‘I didn’t butcher them!’ you say begrudgingly. In truth, you absolutely did but that was a carefree version of you. That was a different person who did not mind screaming the wrong lyrics at the top of their lungs, who laughed at the stupidest of jokes and cracked even worse ones. 

‘I haven’t heard you sing in a long time,’ he confesses. 

‘I just haven’t found scream-worthy songs in a long time,’ you deflect.

He shakes his head because he realises that you’re intent on being difficult tonight. He has to take a different approach to this.

‘Let’s go back,’ he suggests, ‘maybe even go to Italy this time.’

It’s such a ludicrous suggestion really that you snap your gaze back at him. He’s looking right at you, he’s never stopped looking right at you. 

‘What’s the point in making these plans,’ you laugh bitterly, ‘you’ll be gone in a month anyway.’

‘Then come with me.’

He says it so softly that you’re unsure if he even said it in the first place. He seems to come to the same realisation because he clears his throat. 

‘Come with me.’

Go with him…

‘You think it’s so easy,’ you scoff and wipe at your eyes furiously.

‘Isn’t it?’

It’s these two simple words that cut through all your barely-there calm. 

Isn’t it? 

Isn’t it?

‘And what about my job? My responsibilities? I can’t just run from everything!’ You muster up all the strength left in you as you yell at him. 

It’s as if it has opened up a dam inside you and now you can’t stop the flood of words. 

‘Not all of us have the luxury of doing what we love and travelling and fucking around. Some of us have to SURVIVE! Not all of us can just pause everything at the drop of a fucking hat.’

By the time you’re done, you’re sobbing so hard that you’re certain your heart’s about to crack in two. Any minute now…

But then his warm hands are grabbing your face. ‘Hey, hey,’ he’s whispering, forcing you to look at him, ‘hey, I need you to calm down a bit okay? Okay?’

The tears make his face look blurry and unclear but the concern in his voice is unmistakable. You can almost imagine the deep crease between his brows right now; how his mouth would be tilted downward. Still, the sobs don’t subside. 

‘Please, please,’ he’s begging almost, ‘will you take some deep breaths for me? Please…’

You are trying, you have been trying. All this time you have only been trying to make it from one deep breath to the next. 

‘Please…’ his voice cracks.

Gently, so gently he picks up your hand in his, observes the red half-moons formed on the palm because of how hard you’ve been digging your nails into it, and swipes a thumb over it. It takes him a second or two before he manages to control the tremble in his own hands. It’s only when you touch the soft cotton of his t-shirt, that you realise that he’s holding your hand over his heart. 

The fog clears just a smidge as you feel his strong heartbeat under your palm. Compared to his, yours feels like a galloping horse. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you sob once you’ve come to your senses. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

‘Stop…’

‘I know you work hard,’ you close your eyes tightly, let a few more tears escape, ‘I know your job isn’t easy.’

‘It’s not,’ he confirms. ‘I know you think I’ve no reason to complain.’

‘You’re misunderstanding me—’

‘And I know I’m so lucky to be doing what I do,’ he continues as if you haven’t spoken at all. 

‘That’s not—’ 

‘And I know you take your responsibilities much more seriously than I do…’

‘Listen to me—’ you try to interrupt again but he’s having none of it. 

‘No, you listen to me. Take a sabbatical, quit your fucking job for all I care. It’s not making you happy, it’s never made you happy. I’ll take care of you. You know I will.’

You roll your eyes and try not to scoff at his words but that just fuels him even more. 

‘Fuck, why won’t you let me! You took care of me when I needed it the most or have you forgotten about that? Have you forgotten how you held my hand as I checked into rehab?’

His voice chokes on the last word but he does not waver, he never wavers. 

‘Let me b—fuck, let me be there for you,’ he pleads. 

You grasp at straws, try to come up with even one reason why he shouldn’t be here right now. 

‘You already have a million other things to take care of.’

‘And they are all secondary to you.’ He wastes no time in answering. All this time that you’ve spent not looking at him, all that resolve crumbles in an instant as you finally turn to him. His hand twitches to wipe away the few tears that have slipped out but he stays put.

‘Please stop…’ you whisper—beg—through the lump in your throat. ‘Please stop saying things like that.’

‘And why should I?’ he challenges. 

Because you’re only saying them to make me feel better.

Because you just want this pity party to end. 

Because you are just fulfilling your obligation as my friend…

‘Because you don’t mean them…’ you breathe. 

You might as well have slapped him in the face. That’s how hard he flinches away. In fact, he would much rather you slap him in the face than hear you accuse him of that. 

Your entire body goes cold when he stands up, tries to put distance between you. And you have to grab the arm of the settee to make yourself get up. The spot on the floor where you were curled up should have been warm by now. Instead, it feels ice cold. 

‘I don’t mean them?’ His voice is so soft, so lifeless.

‘No, that’s not what I mean—’

‘You think I’m here to score some brownie points?’

He’s getting riled up now. That was the last straw for him and now you’ve finally managed to step over the boundary. You’ve finally crossed that invisible line.

‘Tell me why I’m here,’ he demands. 

‘I don’t—’

‘I need you to tell me why you think I’m here.’

‘Because you’re my fr—’

‘Don’t you fucking say that word,’ he shouts, ‘Don’t you dare say that word.’

You feel hollow sitting there; like a husk of a person. There’s no point to this conversation anymore but he’s not giving up. 

‘Ask me why I’m here,’ he shouts again and this time you can’t hold it in any longer. 

Your head pounds inside your skull and your patience is wearing thin. You’ve tried apologising, you’ve tried deflecting but nothing has worked. 

‘Fuck!’ you yell back, ‘Why ARE you here?’

‘BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!’ 

The silence that follows is the loudest silence you’ve ever heard.

He staggers back—eyes wide and mouth agape—and almost crashes into your TV. He can’t believe he’s just let that slip out. That was supposed to be his one secret.

And you can’t ignore the way your heart simply stops. 

Because how long have you waited for him to say those words? How long have you imagined whispered I love yous in the dead of the night in Matty’s voice? How long have you yearned?

He’s made up his mind now. He can’t take the words back, he doesn’t want to take them back so he squares his shoulders and looks you dead in the eyes.

‘Because I fucking love you, okay?’

This silent confession, a confirmation that the first one was not a fluke, nearly brings you to your knees. You beg your legs to hold you up as you take a small step toward him. 

‘You do?’ 

‘I have been in love with you for as long as I have known you.’ The exasperation in his voice is clear, so is the undercurrent of regret. 

For as long as I’ve known you…

Seven years…

Seven years that you could have had with him

‘It’s okay if you…’ he has to swallow a few times to stop himself from getting choked up. He has to blink a few times. ‘It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.’

Words cannot do justice to what you feel. 

Seven years…

This evening has gone from difficult to damn near impossible and there’s simply not enough air in the room. 

Seven years that you’ve wasted, you can’t let yourself waste another second. 

You stagger toward him and he’s instantly there to catch you, to hold you so close. He wastes no time tilting your chin up because he will die if he doesn’t do it now. And he will never find peace if he doesn’t know the taste of your lips. 

This kiss is unlike any other you’ve ever had in your life. There’s no elegance to it, no softness. Your teeth clash against each other multiple times in the first few seconds. It tastes like tears and stale cigarettes. It tastes like longing and yearning and hope. Best of all…it tastes like him

And it is, without a doubt, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life. 

It’s the best because it’s him. It’s always been him and now you finally get to have him.

‘I’m an idiot,’ you mumble against his lips. 

‘A proper imbecile,’ he confirms and you slap his arm lightly. 

‘You’re an idiot too!’

‘At least I had the courage to confess,’ he challenges.

You bury your face in his chest, breathe in his familiar scent, listen to his racing heart to calm yours down. Time is irrelevant in this moment. It could have been aeons or it could have been seconds, the only thing that truly matters is his body pressed up against yours. 

He knows he’s probably holding you tighter than he should but he’s held himself together—all alone—for so long that if he lets go now, he will crumble.  

‘So what happens now?’ you speak into the silence that surrounds you. 

‘Now I spend a lifetime making up for the last seven years.’ 

There’s no hesitation there, only determination. 

A fresh wave of tears gathers in your eyes. You know he can feel them dampening his t-shirt but he simply holds you tighter. 

‘I’ve got you, my love,’ he shushes, starts rocking back and forth and presses his lips to your hair, ‘I’ve always got you. And I’m never letting go.’

---

(If you caught the one lyric reference, ilysm)

[getoswhore]

ORIGINAL PINNED POST / MASTERLISTS

phew. . .

this is tbh a lot harder than i thought it would be ?! but what i’m trying to sob out, is that sadly, today is the day that i will be leaving this silly little blog of mine — archiving it and letting it go. . . :/

‘cause of my little time to write anymore – i got college and work to deal with, real-life issues with a busy schedule more than anything, and far more important things to handle with than some filthy porn about some supaaa hot characters (SADLY) :/ ( but don't get me wrong, i do love some good written filth ! ) + another reason is because of my lack of motivation to write now too……..

buuut don't get me wrong, to me, writing has always been such a joy and a hobby that i adored so much ! ( i’ve been writing since i was 13?? :o ) and that's a long time !! and doing something for so long has became. . . a little tiring. . . a little boring too, repetitive even. . . :/ but don't get me wrong !!! this blog has brought me so much joy and inspiration. and it's all because YOU. ALL OF Y’ALL, ALL 12K OF Y’ALL. like, y’all have made this blog so much fun and so exciting to log in and just to write or even just to talk, to just have stupid little convos about crazy little things and get horny on main about characters ( mostly over getō – aka the loml >:D ). and y'all made it so fun to write too, y'all did give me that motivation i’ve always needed because of y’alls encouragement and never-ending love and support, which lead us to multiple ( proud ) milestones !! and that appreciation towards my work has always made me more than happy ! so thank you so much !!! <33

this is why i love y’all so much, and i will dearly miss you guys, and all of our stupid little jokes and memes together :( especially all of my moots :(( i love you guys sm, y'all are srsly more than just moots, i take y'all as actual friends in my leedle phone :((( so, ( moots ) if y'all would like to stay in contact ask me for my discord !

but seriously, thank you, all of you. thanks for always being so cool and awesome, and thanks for always putting up with my insanty and crazy tots about my man suguru getō ( who y'all should always be shipping me with forever :| ) + of sooo many other cuties !!! like srsly, thank you ! thanks for being a moot, a friend, or a cool anon, or just a really awesome follower !!! <333 you are so freaking amazing and sooo hot, so please take care !!! <333 big smooches and tight hugs for you all !!

thank you all so much for the amazing memories i’ve had here !! i will miss you all so much !! and thank you for being supportive to me and this ever-growing blog, it's grown a lot and succeeded in my eyes — beyond to be honest. i’m super grateful and happy, thank you so much. <3

— bella: april 14th, 2023 !

[kitthepurplepotato]

Shenanigans Part 10

Part 10/ Bakugou Katsuki and the case of the fortune teller

Warnings: Swear words. That’s it.

Summary: Best Jeanist wants to go to a fortune teller. Bakugou hates the idea.

New to the story? Click here for the first part!

Check out the Master List for more content!

💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥

Mr. Katsuki wakes up in a hospital.

It’s loud and cold and it smells like shit.

Mr. Katsuki wants to go back to sleep.

“Katsuki!” Kirishima’s loud and annoying voice comes through the haze in his brain, giving him a new kind of headache. “Are you okay?!”

“I was okay until you started yapping.” The blonde mumbles, definitely not ready for this shit yet.

First of all, he was absolutely manhandled by the Menace.

Second of all, he kinda liked being manhandled by the Menace.

He’s not sure which statement is worse. He really hopes these are only the side effects of his concussion, even though he wasn’t concussed when he first thought about them. Fuck.

“Thank god.” Shitty Hair sighs and looks at him with the look Katsuki hates the most; the look of pity. “Don’t fret too much, she was unfair. I can’t believe she…” Kirishima couldn’t finish the sentence as Bakugou’s palm crackled under the covers, leaving an unpleasant burning smell behind.

“What the fuck, Shitty hair!” The blonde screams. “She won fair and square. She distracted me and it worked. Yes, I fucking hate to lose but I know defeat when I see one.”

Even Katsuki can’t believe he just said these words. Maybe he does need to sleep a bit longer. A few hours maybe. Or a few weeks. Or he will just hibernate until the menace dies of old age so he never has to face his stupid shitty feelings.

“I’m really not sure if I should be proud of you for saying this or be concerned that you might have been brain washed by Y/N.”

“That’s it!” Comes the excited voice of Dynamight, his eyes sparkling with joy like he’s not in a hospital room after being beaten up by a girl half his size. “She brainwashed me! That’s why I feel all these weird things, like my heart can’t stop beating when I think of her stupid, flushed face looking down at me…”

“Well thank fuck it doesn’t, you would be dead, bruh.” Comments the redhead but his response remains unheard.

“And the way I don’t even feel bad for losing because she earned my respect! Yeah, fuck that, I was just brain washed!”

Kirishima’s best friend looks absolutely insane right now; his hair is tousled from the hospital pillow, his face is pale and there are massive bags under his eyes and a few bruises around his chin. He looks like the conspiracy theorist from that old meme. It’s hilarious and disturbing at the same time.

“… just… sleep a bit more, will ya? I think you are still not completely yourself.” Kirishima mumbles and leaves the room quicker than he does a burning building.

What the fuck did he just listen to?!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You really considered resigning at this point.

You made all the possible mistakes; you kicked your boss in the balls, you flirted with him in front of the whole office and made it absolutely obvious that you secretly have the hots for him and you also talked back to your other boss who only wanted to reprimand you for being an absolute ass.

You brought in a small box to put your stuff in, just in case you get fired today because fuck, you definitely will be.

Hm. You might as well start packing.

You start to put your knick knacks into your small little box one by one. You are so zoned out you don’t even realize when the door opens up with a loud bang.

“What the fuck are you doing, shithead?!” You can’t help but look up at the voice; you were absolutely sure you’ll never hear it again after what you’ve done.

“Mr. Dynamight, I’m…”

What the fuck are you supposed to say now?!

Hey, no need to fire me I’m on my way out anyway. Oh, also, here’s my number, call me, maybe? No? No worries, love you, bye.

“I don’t fucking care anyway, just stop it and get your jacket, we are going out with the stringy hoe.” The blonde says nonchalantly, like the last 2 days didn’t happen at all. Okay, now you are even more confused.

“Uhm, yes, I’m coming, yeah, no worries, really, I wasn’t about to resign anyway. Absolutely not.” You mumble with a red face and grab your jacket without asking more questions; if this is his way to lure you out of the building and kill you, so be it. It’s still better than being alone with him in the office.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Best Jeanist is a really weird person. He loves people and he cares about them, but at the same time; thanks to all the shit he has been through; he doesn’t really know what’s appropriate and what’s not. Shortly; he can’t read the room. At all. Like Shouto fucking bacon face Todoroki times 10. Hence why, a day after Mr. Katsuki gets his ass handed to him, his sexual frustration clear and obvious to everyone after the the shit they’ve pulled in the training room, Best Jeanist decides this is the right time to ask Katsuki, Kirishima and Menace out to a….

“…Trip to that famous fortune teller!” Best Jeanist finishes his sentence. There was probably something before that last part, but fuck if Katsuki knows, he was too busy thinking about… well… everything.

“The fuck?” Katsuki and the Menace barks into the awkward silence in unison.

So apparently there is this famous fortune teller in Japan who is able to tell your future with his quirk. Not the whole thing, but bits and pieces. Katsuki doesn’t really understand why is this such a big thing; he really doesn’t care about shit like that and he certainly doesn’t care about his sore knee at the age of 53 or about his 50 cats when he’s 70.

By the look on the Menace’s face, she’s going through the same thought process; they look at each other questioningly for a second before deciding to look away with a slight blush on their faces, like two fucking teenagers. They really need to get their shit together. They fought, Y/N won. End of the story. Nothing has changed, they still hate each other. They just had a moment in the middle of the battle. No biggie.

“Yeah, Mr. Jeanist, we can come with you!” Kirishima - as always - saves the day. Best Jeanist has a mischievous smirk on his face; Bakugou is not sure what makes the other blonde so excited about this, but at least he won’t be forced to talk to the menace today.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

People think Best Jeanist has nothing in his head but strings and clothing designs, but the truth is; he is a sucker for a good romance story.

Hence why he came up with the perfect plan to get his two favorite students together as soon as possible.

“So what’s the plan?” He asks Masato, the famous fortune teller, his hand holding out a thick envelope. The guy reaches out to take the envelope then looks inside; there is enough money to feed his 3 kids for at least a year. He has mouths to feed, so self-respect be damned.

“I’ll tell those two they are meant to be.” Mr. Masato smirks.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

This needs to be a scam.

The whole place just screams “fake”; the dark purple walls, the over-decorated tables, the massive amount of stones and crystals available for purchase at the counter, the crystal ball in front of the guy who looks like he’s cosplaying a magician from an MMO game; it’s so over the top it’s actually disgusting.

“Let’s get over with this, I have paperwork to finish.” The blonde mumbles, absolutely uninterested in this whole shenanigan.

Kirishima looks like a kid in a candy store; he’s all over the place, looking at every single crystal and right now he’s bothering the poor sales person with random questions about them. To be fair, he is absolutely adorable from afar, leaping around the room with an excited spark in his eyes. Kirishima is a precious little fuck.

“Kiri is so sweet, isn’t he? You just want to put him in your back pocket and keep him there to cuddle him when you’re lonely.”

Well, you didn’t want to say this out loud, but oh well. It’s out there now.

Apparently, this wasn’t the right thing to say as Dynamight’s palms sparked up and his eyes went even more red than usual.

“Oh yeah? Go and fuck him then, he’s single.” The blonde pouts angrily, stomping towards the confused fortune teller guy to sit down. Kirishima stares at you with a red face, like this is the first time someone complimented him in his sad life.

“Aww, you are so sweet when you pout, Mr.Katsuki!” You put your hands on your chest to dramatize your words. “I do have two back pockets, you can both take one, if you want!”

“I don’t share.” The blonde responds with a straight face and now it’s your time to blush like a teenager; did he just… flirt back?!

… or he might have the hots for Kirishima and he doesn’t want to share them.

What? It’s an option.

“I’m really confused by the relationship of you three.” The long forgotten Best Jeanist speaks up and sits down next to Katsuki.

“Well, you are at the right place to get answers for your questions!” The fortune teller guy speaks up and if you weren’t sure about this being a scam, now you are. He sounds like those guys in the TV advertisements, which is definitely a good thing when you work in the industry but it’s a little bit too much when you are only a fortune teller in a shitty tent.

“Let’s start with the blonde young man with the threatening aura!” The guy perks up, locking his eyes with Dynamight without an explanation. His eyes go blank and there are tiny pictures scrolling though his eyeballs, too small for a normal person to actually see. You cheekily start up your magnifying quirk to get a closer look at the pictures; there is one with you in it, kneeling in front of the crying Dynamight, cupping his cheek with teary eyes.

Okay, what the fuck?! That’s way to out of character for you two to actually happen.

There is another picture that makes you smile; Katsuki in his cute little glasses taking your hand in the middle of the city while rain pours all over you. He looks like the Katsuki from the other dimension, so he will probably find you in their own world, just how he promised.

Ahh, you miss that fucker so-so much. You really hope your other self will appreciate the boy the way you would appreciate him.

“No snooping, this is not your future! Well… technically.” The guy winks at you as he comes back to reality. “Mr. Bakugou Katsuki. You are a lucky little sod.” The guy smiles at the blonde. “I don’t want to go into too much details in case it changes the future, but… “ He sighs dramatically. “I can see you are a really strong and passionate person, kind of aggressive, hard to be around for a long amount of time.”

“No shit, Sherlock, everyone who owns a TV knows that.” The blonde scoffs, clearly unimpressed.

“That’s true. But would I know how much you seek comprehension and how much you secretly wonder if there will ever be a person romantically loving you for who you are?”

Well, one thing for sure, you are not going to question the guy’s abilities when it’s your turn, he clearly knows how to fight back.

“This is a fucking scam, I don’t think about any of those things! I’m absolutely fine by myself!” The blonde grumbles with his face all red, avoiding eye contact.

“Well, if you enjoy solitude, I have bad news for you; you won’t be alone for long.” The guy smiles and looks right at you as he winks again. You really want to tell him off for his bullshit, but you saw the pictures. If this is actually a scam then it’s a really good one at that, and you can’t help but respect his shenanigans.

For your surprise, Dynamight doesn’t scream at the guy again, instead he asks a question.

“So who’s the fucker who ruins my perfect life?” Katsuki almost whispers to the guy, who can’t help but smile at that.

“The one you’ve been constantly thinking about for the last two days.”

Katsuki grunts in response but doesn’t say anything else. The guy moves to the next person without a word while you wonder about the meaning of his reading; yes, you saw yourself in the pictures but non of them were romantic; you might have missed something, there might be someone else in Dynamight’s life. There is no way he is thinking about you so much, especially not after all the drama in the training room. He’s probably doing his best to forget those few hours so you can’t be the one the guy was talking about… right?

Kirishima is the next, the guy praises him for being the best friend and the best boyfriend the world has ever seen - Kirishima perks up from the sound of having a significant other in his future and he can’t stop smiling for the rest of the day. For Jeanist, his future isn’t as fluffy as the young one’s, the guy insist he needs to go on a vacation, but he gets some good news as well.

“Last one!” The guy moves to face you properly, and fuck, you are sooo not ready for this shit.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Last one!”

Oh. Katsuki zoned out for the entirety of Kirishima’s and Best Jeanist’s reading.

He has so much to think about; this whole reading sounded like the biggest scam until the guy laid him bare in front of his friends like a bitch. Katsuki didn’t lie when he said he’s happy being alone, but deep inside he always felt like there is something missing. The new feelings in his heart only made the void deeper; he can lie as much as he wants, but he absolutely loved the way his heart beat out of his chest from the sight of Y/N on the battle field. This doesn’t mean the Menace is the one though; she might have been at the right place at the right time to wake something up in Katsuki, sure, but it doesn’t mean she’s the one the guy was talking about.

“I will love you in every single universe.” Katsuki wakes up from his stupor to the future teller’s voice resonating in the small room. “I’m not sure what this means but it was a part of your reading and I really liked it.” He smiles at Y/N who’s red as a tomato. “You have quite a life story, miss Y/N. Or should I call you the Menace? As much as you insist hating that nickname your heart rate goes up every time you hear it, why is that, I wonder?” The guy does that fake chin touching/deep thinking face, and it’s extremely annoying. The menace doesn’t say a word, she’s clearly mortified. “You almost lost your life on the battle field…”

“That’s the past, not the future, you dimwit.” Katsuki interrupts.

“The past and the future are connected. I can see them both.” He responds, clearly tense from being interrupted in the middle of his reading. He takes a deep breath and continues. “…then you got dragged to another universe. You found something there you cherish, but let me tell you something; if you live in the past, you won’t see the bright future that’s ahead of you. Stop comparing those two and just look around; the path is clear and obvious, paved out for you to step on, yet you still stumble on the dirty, uneven grass.” He sighs again with his back hitting the back of his chair as an indication that the reading is done. “Also, there is a wedding in the future for all of you. Not yours, though. Someone else’s. But you’ll see when you get back to your office.”

A wedding? Another lie. There is no one around Bakugou who’s about to marry, this needs to be another bullshit.

“Thank you for your service, Mister!” Kirishima perks up and makes his way out of the building, skipping around like a lovesick fool. He clearly doesn’t care if it’s fake or not. He’s really easy to please.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You were just about to leave the building when you felt a shoulder bumping into your own.

“Oii, fuckstick.” Bakugou speaks up, but instead of his usual fury, his voice is calm and subtle. You look up at the blonde; he is looking at you with hesitation in his eyes. “It was a good fight. Thanks… for doing that.” The blonde mumbles, his shoulders bumping into you again affectionately. “Can we stop being weird about it? It’s really annoying. I can’t fucking focus.”

Okay, what the hell is happening?! First the unintentional (or intentional?) flirting, now the shoulder touches and if that’s not enough to lose your shit, Bakugou just said the work “thanks”.

You died and this is your personal heaven. That needs to be it. This can’t be happening right now. If you need to look at his blushing face another second you’re going to propose.

If this is real life, then this needs to be temporary. Don’t get your hopes up. This is just a moment of weakness from the blonde. The sudden rising of your heart rate has nothing to do with your feelings, you probably just had way too much coffee in the morning.

“Yeah, it was really nice….” Oh fuck, those are not the right words! “I mean, it was a good fight. You are great. In fighting, I mean. Thanks. Yeah. Let’s do it again?” Jesus fuck, why did you say that?!

“You want a rematch?” The blonde laughs while he walks towards his car. “Yeah, I don’t mind pinning you to the floor again….” The blonde’s eyes open wide in a surprise when he realizes what he’d just said. His blush gets even deeper. It’s absolutely adorable. “I mean, I will definitely win next time. Yeah. I will clean the floor with your blood while using you as a mop…head. Yeah.” He stutters and opens the door for you to jump in. “Want a ride, Number One?”

“Y-yeah, Number Two.” You grin at the blonde as his face contorts into an angry frown.

“I hate you so much.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The ride was absolutely exhilarating. Katsuki drives like a badass and he also has a good taste in music; that didn’t stop you from making fun of his taste though. You were bickering the whole time like two dumb teenagers and thankfully, this cleared the air enough to get rid of all the tension between you two. Everything is back to normal, thank fuck.

As you make your way into your shared office you find 2 envelopes on Bakugou’s desk; one for him and one for you. It’s gold and sparkly and smells like a fancy perfume.

It’s a wedding invitation.

“Fuck, that bloke was right.” Bakugou’s surprised voice fills the room. “But wait, I thought Denki and Jirou broke up again a few weeks ago?” The blonde asks, confused by the whole situation. The wedding invitation clearly states their name, so…

“Well, apparently I give great love advice.” You answer proudly; Denki did message you a few weeks after your meet up to say thank you, so you are not lying.

“Yeah, you are that middle aged person who hooks everyone up but can’t get a bitch herself.” Dynamight fucking giggles, the area around his eyes wrinkle happily with every movement. Who is this person and what happened to Dynadick?!

“Bakugou, we are far from being middle aged!” You snicker, with a slight blush on your face. “And also, low blow!” You try your best to look offended. “You know what, it’s fine, I won’t be lonely, because you’ll be there with me, you forever alone dipshit.”

Was it always this easy to fuck around with him or is this just a special occasion?

Why is it so hot in here?

Oh lord, this is bad.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“I had a really weird day.” Mr. Masato tells his assistant while he drinks his beer like it’s water. “So this guy gave me a shit load of money to lie to these two people about their future; to make it look like they belong together and shit.” The jug knocks on the table aggressively as he continues his rant. “So the two came in, they literally looked like they hated each other, so I started to feel really bad about this prank… but then I read them and… they were actually connected by fate. They can literally fuck up every single thing and they’ll end up with each other anyway. I’ve never seen a bond so unbreakable. So I got this shit load of money and I didn’t even have to lie. I feel like I won the lottery.”

The assistant stares at him like this is the first time he heard human speech then throws up on the floor. Just like that.

“Good talk.” Mr. Masato sighs and stares into the space with dead eyes.

Mr. Masato feels like this is a great time to finally retire.

-> Next Part

💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~

Yes, I know I said I’ll be working on another project, but I’m in love with this story so much!

So, how are you guys feeling about the budding romance? I am absolutely thrilled! I literally want to cry from happiness!

Also, you won’t need to wait long for the next part as it’s already done! Might post it sooner if I see some comments under this part! No pressure. Really. 🙄 💜

As always,reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated, they make my day 💜

Thank you for reading! 💥💜

Taglist: @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai

@nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos

💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~ 💥~

[beepbeeplettuce613]

More drawings! I’ve been getting into pixel art and practising for the past few months and I’m very proud of how they all turn out :3

First, Aubrey! Nothing much to say here, just a pixel version of her portrait during battles lolol. I’m proud of it though! (I used pinks in her hair for the highlights on purpose to reference the real Aubrey :3)

Next, a new oc of mine, mr static! He’s supposed to be a tv head of the tv you see in static void in blackspace (from Omori.) I was bored and wanted to make a silly tv head design hehe (Also because I was low-key fixating on mr puzzles from smg4 at the time XD). The second photo is a stupid meme I thought would be funny with mr static and another oc of mine, the doctor!

Thirdly, some more goopboy doodles! I enjoy drawing this creepy silly creature a lot as you can tell XD though I haven’t drawn him in a bit, so I’ll have to do that XD (He eats frozen food with the bag as one does)

Now for more sv au doodles! Even after a year I still LOVE the sv au! Especially sv spacebunny hehe :3 they have my heart! (Oh btw Avery is just my oc they’re not canon in the au… sniffle… I wanna yap to other sv au fans about Avery and Spaceboy so badly it’s crazy GRGRBRHRHG). Anyways, Avery will only look that scared if they see a crab or lobster. They’re scared to death of those things. The second one is just Avery flustering Spaceboy as they usually do! :D (Please omori fans go look at the sv au. I know, it hasn’t updated in months but I swear it’s fantastic 😭 @omori-sv-au this is the blog! :D)

And that’s all for now! I’m in a bit of an art block right now sadly, these are all from weeks/months ago XD but I’ll be posting new doodles when I draw enough!

[heichou-ackerman]

Texting Levi fluff pt. 2

Levi hates texting but he likes you. A little continuation from pt. 1 and will probably make more since I love portraying our captain’s attitude through text stuff

TW: Some slight cussing but nothing MORE

- Levi had a strange love/hate relationship with how bold some of your message had become over the course of you two being officially together

- While most of them were harmless (and he could easily ignore for a bit), it was obvious you were riding on some wave as you became a bit more needy and demanding with him

>you didn’t say anything about the meme I sent you! >I’m literally at work.

>you can still make some time to look and say something

>I am working.

>you arent if you’re replying to me rn

>I’m on my break so sue me.

- You were getting a little annoying truth be told, but he appreciated the clinginess despite this. Work was becoming hectic and he was getting swamped with a lot of things. It wasn’t like he was ignoring you intentionally, at least this time.

- The next message you sent was a surprising one as you usually weren’t one to send actual snapshots of yourself. Levi opened your message and was soon met with a selfie of yours, with the world’s most exaggerated pout on your face. It border-lined both cute and really, really fucking annoying.

>Did you spill your milk or something, what the fuck is this?

> no just how sad it makes me feel when you ignore me

> Okay, I guess. I don’t see how that’s my problem.

> awe, I see you’re okay with making your gf feel shitty huh

>If you really think that ploy works on me, you must be beyond stupid 

-He ignored you for a bit as he scrolled through some things mindlessly before he got another message with another photo attached. He rolled his eyes as he opened this up, this time being met with a selfie of you, with the same pout, but with your middle finger smack in the middle. Okay, he couldn’t help but chortle a bit at this one.

>That’s really rude. I didn’t think I was dating such a crass girl.

> didn’t think I was dating such as ass

> Tone it down. The snarkiness is cute to a certain extent.

>oh watch out, levi is mad

>How about you grab a Snickers since you wanna act like a cranky preschooler?

-He felt proud about his comeback to you, and his mouth twisted to a smirk as he saw how immediately you started to type back. He must have struck a nerve and he couldn’t help but continue to follow you along with stupid little games. 

>takes one to know one

>Wow. How long did it take you to come up with that one? You sure got me babe.

>you’re such an ass!

>You started it, don’t dish it out if you can’t handle it.

> I know :/ heehee

-Levi paused for a bit. Yeah, this was fun and all, but he assumed it was kind of a lonesome feeling on your end considering how busy he was at work. You honestly meant no harm, and Levi never asked you to stop as well. 

>Send me a better selfie of you.

>oh! Really?

> Yeah, the pout is something but I wanna see how nice you look today.

-Not even ten seconds later and Levi receives a message with a photo attachment, and opens it up to a simple, but very effective selfie of you giving a goofy peace sign. He smiles to himself, taking observations on how you decided to dress yourself up for the day. You looked nice, and he felt a strong urge to be able to kiss those glossy lips of yours.

>You look cute. >ty! I really tried today 🙂

>I can tell. Why don’t you dress up nice for me?

>huh, I do!

> Would love to mess up that gloss of yours. 

>hah, maybe you can if you wanna kidnap me from work

>That can be arranged. 

[kats-fic-recs]

Bakudeku Fic Recs <3<3<3<3

(in the best way) you'll be the death of me

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose. "Deku. You have compiled ten notebooks on me. You know my medical history better than my mother. And I have it on good authority that when you saw me in that stupid bee suit your face was so disturbingly perverted Mineta cried."

Or:

Izuku finds out there are still things about Kacchan he can learn and grows up in the process.

How Was Your Day?

"Hi Kacchan, how was your day at work?"

“YOU FUCKING PUNCHED ME THROUGH A BUILDING! THAT WAS MY DAY AT WORK!”

happy birthday, kacchan!

“The only thing that didn’t change was Deku.

Deku kept his unreachable dreams, kept the idea that he’d be a hero some day. Kept his notebooks, and his dumb All Might pencil case. Kept his hair the same and kept his stupid freckles and kept getting on Katsuki’s nerves no matter what Katsuki did to try and stop it.

And, every year on April Twentieth, Deku kept on bringing Katsuki gifts.

melodies of a heart unbroken

Gifts, wrapped crudely (though that slowly changed until they suddenly looked almost identical to Auntie Inko’s presents) with notes that would say ‘Happy birthday, Kacchan!’ in Deku’s ugly chicken scratch.”

***

aka a look at katsuki and izuku's relationship throughout the years, told through memories of birthdays.

Midoriya Izuku intends to get to the bottom of why he can't cry about love.

wrinkled oranges, pigeons, and other sweet things to call your significant other

Deku,” he says, suddenly serious. “I’m fucking bored.”

Izuku blinks. “Of me? It’s a bit late for a divorce now, I think.”

In the slow, boring routine of retired life, former Pro Heroes Izuku and Katsuki are growing restless.

Katsuki turns to Izuku, his lifelong lover and precious husband, and says, "I'm fucking bored."

Sure, they're way past seventy years old. But that's not going to stop Izuku from making the last years of their life as memorable as he can.

Saturday

“Hey there, you fucking nerd,” and only Katsuki Bakugou can say something like that and make it sound like a pick up line. “Whatcha got there?”

“Laundry,” Izuku says cooly. “What about you?”

Katsuki turns so Izuku can get a good look at him. Old sweatpants with a hole in the crotch. Loose fitting tank top that hasn’t seen an iron for centuries. His hands are wet, remnants of dish suds on his fingers like sparkling jewelry. “Dishes. They’re dirty. Gotta show em’ who’s boss.”

“Mmmm,” and Izuku is proud of himself for managing to moan like that without bursting into a fit of giggles. “Did I ever tell you how hot Domestic Kacchan is?”

[Or: There's something relaxing about doing housework when your job is to save the world]

Until We Meet Again

Change is the only constant in the world.

It is also the most terrifying ordeal a person has to endure.

With the War won and All For One vanquished, Izuku must prepare for the next chapter in his life: becoming a true Hero by following All Might's footsteps.

But dreams come with a price. Now, he prepares to leave everything he loves behind.

And loving Bakugou Katsuki the most makes it the hardest thing Izuku will ever do.

love meme, hate meme

It's time for the yearly Heroic Achievement Awards where well deserve pro heroes get to claim the honor and accolades that they accumulated in the previous year. This year the Best New Hero category is filled with powerhouses with big fandoms that is willing to do anything for their favorite to claim the honor of rookie of year.

But just as the stage is set for showdown of the century between the biggest named rookie in Japan, Deku and Ground Zero, and their respective fanclubs, one single social media post is about to upheaval everything.

Every Maiden Plays Pretend

“You have to promise not to tell anyone about Flame Heart Hero," says Midoriya. "Because the thing is… When I started drawing the manga, I based the main character off Kacchan.”

“Wh— Bakugo’s the heroine? Bakugo?”

For a second, Ochako thinks she’s entered an alternate universe. There’s no way shouty, stompy Bakugo belongs in a shoujo manga. He especially doesn’t fit as vulnerable, insecure Yurika-chan, who got captured by a villain in the first few chapters, failed her first Hero Class exercise and cried, lost at the Sports Festival and cried again, got kidnapped by villains in front of her whole class, didn’t get her provisional license, then got into a fight after-hours and cried some more…

“Holy shit,” breathes Ochako, “Bakugo’s the heroine.”

Public Displays of Affection

The freckled man hums and sinks lower, his eyes roving to the corner of the room like two huge green marbles rolling into the sides of a glass bowl and sticking there. He earns a sharp bang from the fist of his blonde companion hitting the counter like a gavel.

The dishes rattle with a startled clink, but the drunk man moping over them doesn’t even notice.

“What?!”

“Won’t drink with me,” complains freckles, leaning forward like a wilting sunflower on the end of a collapsing stalk. “Won’t let me look at anyone else, but won’t drink with me. Won’t even take a sip! The beer’s all warm and I can’t even count it as a secondhand kis—”

Across the counter, you choke on your own drink. The blonde does the same on his water - the only difference in poise is how quickly he smacks his freckled companion on the side of the head before he can finish his sentence.

A hero reaches out to touch the hearts of the people through their actions. Sometimes, they do it through heartbreak.

Bakugo and Midoriya as seen through your eyes - the eyes of a local firefighter - in an izakaya a few miles and hours away from tragedy.

Kiss Me?

Years after Katsuki left Izuku in the dust as a kid he's reminded of the gesture of affection that had his palms sweating and heart pounding when Izuku used to do it for him when they'd get scuffed up on the playground: kissing his band aids after patching him up.

Fast forward to the present and the dumb nerd is just going around offering up kisses to any old extra in their class except Katsuki and it's driving him insane. Despite him pushing these feelings within himself as deep as possible, it stings deeper than he could've ever imagined.

-

aka: izuku's love language is kisses