#if you liked this pls rb !! means a lot :)

[caruliaa]

yes offense actually but like "uuhmm this trans headcanon doesnt make SENSE though" has always been one of just. the most inane takes in fandom ever like. assuming the person making it is someone whos otherwise an ally to trans people/not transphobic (just because with people who are transphobic that an issue thats obviously much bigger than just fandom stuff) whyy !! do you give a shit !!! like why !!! like bla bla i understand if you dont think the idea of that character being trans makes sense or you think something is canon contradicts it or you dont think its in character whatever it is you dont have to hc them as trans if you dont see them as trans you can even talk about how you think theyre cis if you want but like. its literally not hard to just not treat people who do have those trans headcanons as if theyre wrong or that their interpretation of the character is stupid/something to be mocked or act as though your superior for not reading them that way like. even if that doesnt come from a place of transphobia you will inevitably read that way to some people and regardless like. who gives a shit if someone is seeing themselves within a character/reading that character the way they want to esp in regards to a group of people with such a pitiful lack of positive representation as trans people. like get over yourself

[saulbaby]

This is actually a serious question that I honestly don't know the answer to- do the people that hate and wanna censor ao3 wanna ban books too? Like. Do they go to the ya section of a library and see books about teenager having sex and...what? Like actually how is that reconciled between ao3 being "problematic" for hosting user generated content which is sometimes gross and libraries where probably like a third of the books have weird shit that you'd want to censor on ao3

[kazzattack]

i think dick grayson just loves holding your face and making you look at him. he loves having an excuse to look you in the eyes, to watch as you unravel around him. asking you to look at him while he fucks you into the mattress, as if you’re even coherent enough to understand what he’s asking for.

a/n ;; this is a lazy and MAYBE ooc post but i like the idea of it. also this was supposed to be orgasm denial but i changed my mind so if that’s obvious pls ignore ! 😁 if you enjoy this pls like and rb <3

content ;; 18+, a lot filthier than my last one lawl, brief cowgirl position, mating press, a bit of banter, eye contactttttt, praise, slight degradation (whore, slut), he’s a lil mean i fear, manhandling if you squint (?), dick has a little oral fixation, overstim, multiple orgasms, poorly proofread, i think that’s it?, pure smut under the cut

so… focus on the lewd sight of your cunt clenching his length while you rock back and forth, or the cocky yet overwhelmingly soft expression on his face as he admires the absolute beauty riding him? loose strands of hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead, cheeks dusted red, pretty blue eyes zoning out on you… the sight of him drinking in the view is too much.

clearly, he notices- because he notices everything. son of the world’s greatest detective and all.

“goin’ all shy on me, huh?” dick teases, thrusting his hips up into you and making you buckle a little closer to his face. his hand snakes to the small of your back, still helping you move. “too pretty for that.”

“shut up, dick-” you mutter, squeezing him particularly tight as your fingers curl into his hair. he lets out an obscene groan into your ear, encouraging you to keep going.

“you don’t want that, sweetheart-“ he easily denies, “c’mon, look at me.”

you hear him, but his order is ignored when you feel that familiar coil in your tummy. “fuck, dick, ‘m gonna-“

your hips speed up and your cunt tightens around his cock, obscene squelching overwhelming your senses. he lets you ride out your high, tugging you closer to him as he talks you through it. “there you go, there you fucking go-“

“fuck, dick- oh my god-“ you whine into his ear as the pleasure turns into overstimulation, hips still bucking despite the sharp shots of pleasure shooting up your spine. but instead of slowing you down, easing you into more comfort, he’s thrusting his pelvis up into you. “so tight, sweetheart- so good. y’know ‘m not done though.”

you begin to scold him through short breaths and keens before he’s flipping to two of you over, hooking your leg over his shoulder and burying himself inside you deeper than he’s ever been.

“didn’t look at me,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone, taking his time to bite into the plush skin of your thigh, sucking pretty purple bruises into your skin as you whine at the way your orgasm teeters. hips weakly inching his cock further inside, chest heaving in urgency. still, though, your eyes are elsewhere.

why won’t you look at him?

…

he’ll fix it himself.

“you’re so difficult sometimes.” his hand rests on your tummy and moves to hold your breast as his tongue flicks at your hardened nipple. you flinch and buck your hips again and he huffs a little laugh. “you just want me to be mean, don’t you? want me to treat my sweetheart like a fucking whore?” you try speaking up to defend yourself, starting with a shy smile at his remark while ignoring the way you almost moan at the thought. but a sly hand is quick to grab hold of your jaw and direct your gaze to him.

“I don’t need words to know your answer when this pretty pussy’s tellin’ me everything. don’t worry. I’ll give you want you want, m’kay?” he’s face to face with you now as he positions you into a mating press, and he’s throbbing inside you from the way you contract around his cock. he keeps you just like that while his tongue is forced down your throat, nails digging into the plush of your thighs and groaning into your mouth. practically swapping spit with him at this point. the way he acts is downright filthy compared to the soft and sweet sex you were just having a moment ago. gentle and encouraging touches turn almost rude and possessive.

he pulls his cock out until just the tip is inside, slamming back into you as he pulls away from your face. drool lingers from the corners of your mouth and neither of you know or care who it belongs to. “maybe you’ll look at me now.”

“dick-“ you cry and pout, but the grip on your jaw only tightens. cheeks squished and lips all pouty and wet with spit. so filthy and cute.

“prettier than i imagined.” he huffs and his pace continues, making sure your eyes never leave his because he needs you to see him and he needs to see you. he needs it like he needs air. that fleeting feeling comes back and you whimper, hands tugging at his wrist.

“fucking slut- again? tryna milk me dry, sweetheart. you gonna look at me this time? yeah- look at me when you come on this cock.” barely even conscious, your lashes flutter open to meet his gaze. you look helpless, drowning in the pleasure he’s giving you, getting off on his attention. face beautifully framed with his hand, cheeks all rosy as you gush and cream all over his cock. he doesn’t even realize he’s came too, pounding your pussy as white leaks out and around his dick.

you can give him another round or two, right? maybe three if you keep looking at him like that.

[sprytesukii]

you know me (better than i know myself)

bakugou katsuki x reader

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

rating: mature, 18+, MDNI

wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)

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

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

read on ao3

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

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

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

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

he feels like he might die.

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

there it is. fuckin’ kaito.

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

part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.

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

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

he’s moving out.

he’ll be gone forever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.

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

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

it’s sustainable until it isn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he never deserved any of it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

he posts an ad on craigslist that night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back

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

ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

pretty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

what the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you agree.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck no.”

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

and that’s that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

what the fuck.

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

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

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

katsuki would not dream of stopping you.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i was in love with you.”

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

“wha- bakugou, what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i think i’m in love with them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’s home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he thinks it’s his.

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

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

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

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

and that he does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“nah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you know, though. you always do.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you already know.

[ikigaisvt]

quiet love

in which your boyfriend vernon likes showing his love for you in a quiet way.

pairing: vernon x f!reader words count: 2k content: childhood bestfriends to lovers, fluff, domestic warnings: so soft but very corny, contains pretty common prompts imo, vernon's love language is not words of affirmation lol, implied that kids are mean to vernon, mention of driving, drinking, loss and exes, reader is sick at one point (the flu), a lot of food/eating talk, they are so healthy youre gonna throw up, soooo much physical affection they make me SICK (holding hands, kissing, playing with each other's hairs, hugging etc), babe/baby petnames note: omg im alive?!?!? hiii!! it's been so long since i posted a fic! this one is a birthday gift for the loml @vcrnons <3 happy birthday, u know it all already but don't forget i love u sm!!! i hope you enjoy this childhoodbff!vernon (it's ur thing) who's very very in love but very very shy to say it. hope anyone else who sees this fic enjoy too! don't forget to interact with this if u liked it, rbs are very very very appreciated! thank u<3 (also this was proofread by tired me so if there is any mistakes, ignore it pls thanks <3)

Vernon has always been a man of a few words; when you first met him in elementary school, he was the quiet boy and nothing could get him to speak apart from spinning tops and his favorite cartoons. Still, you decided to befriend that calm boy – at the time, people used to think you were only being nice but deep down you knew: you were making a friend for life.

Going through all of the different steps of childhood and teenage hood with Vernon by your side was an experience – you raised hell together, driving your parents crazy. But it was also having a best friend to experience each other’s every first times: first partners, first time driving, first time getting drunk but also first breakup, first bad haircut and first loss. You have seen each other through everything. No, you have watched over each other through everything; wherever you were, Vernon was standing two steps back, making sure you were always safe. And wherever he was, you were always standing two steps back, making sure he was always loved.

And that’s how you both fell in love. It was slow and secure; falling in love with Vernon was never complicated or painful. It was how things dropped into place and none of you ever denied it; at the time you knew you were meant to be – maybe you always did. And so, you let yourself fall into each other’s arms, a safe place, full of quiet love.

You were 24 years old when Vernon first wanted to tell you he loved you; yet, he didn’t have the courage to fess up. Having spent his whole life showing his love through actions, he had a hard time saying it out loud. After a nice date to the cinema and the restaurant, he drove you back home, small talk and look exchanged during the trip. As soon as he puts the car in park, he reaches out to hold your hand, his thumb drawing circles.

“Had a nice time tonight?” he asks.

“Of course I did,” you answer, a blush creeping on your cheeks, “You know I always do with you,” you add, reaching out to cup his cheek.

“You need to go, you have an early day tomorrow,” he tells you, kissing your palm.

“Yeah, I’m going,” you say as you reach down for your bag and open the door, “Let me know when you’re home, okay?”

“Of course,” he says as he holds your face between his hand, “You do the same,” he adds against your lips before kissing you softly.

“It’s literally two steps away, I’m already home,” you chuckle as you exit the car.

“Won’t leave until I get the text, babe,” he smiles as he leans over the center console to look at you.

You roll your eyes sarcastically at him but still, your lips go up into a smile as your cheeks reddens from the way he so apologetically loves and cares for you. This boy would do anything to make sure you see how much he adores you. So, you wave him goodbye and it’s only when you close your front door and his phone buzzes with an i’m home :) drive safe, text me xx that you hear him drive off.

The second time he almost confessed to loving you was when you were 25. You had just gotten over an awful flu that got you bed ridden for days, unable to go on with your schedule as you normally would. You were sleeping the sickness off for hours on end, only waking up when Vernon knocked on your door to check up on you. Honestly, he knew it was only the flu, but he was so scared for you; in his eyes, you always appeared as the strongest women on earth so seeing you so weak and tired pulled at his heartstrings. He thought about confessing his undying love as you were blowing your nose – maybe it will magically heal her, he thought one night. But deep down he knew you needed someone to help you out physically and so, he did. He had taken such good care of you; he kept your home clean, did the laundry and helped you out to the shower if needed. He had thought about doing the cooking but he knew his poor skills wouldn’t get you to eat at all. So, even if you couldn’t finish your plates, he had ordered your favorite meals all week, even if he didn’t really like some of those.

It's been a few days since you last had a fever, so even if you were still blowing your nose and coughing a little bit, you could still get out of bed and hang out with Vernon. You two decided to have an at-home date, ordering your favorite meals and watching the show you recently started together. Since you were less sick you could finally finish your plate and eat more than usual; even after finishing your food, your stomach was still grumbling.

“I’m still hungry,” you whisper to yourself, not thinking Vernon would hear you.

“Yeah?” he asks, still looking at the TV as he holds a spoon full of food in the air, “Want a bite?” he says as he looks at you.

“Is that okay?” you ask, not wanting to take away his favorite food. Even when you were sick, you saw how Vernon only ordered your favorite foods – he deserved to have every bite of his favorite dish.

“Of course it is!” he smiles at you, extending his spoon in front of you, “You like it?” he asks, waiting for your nods of approval.

You nod enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up with a smile, “That’s so good!” you exclaim before Vernon reaches for your plate. You look at him, wondering what he is up to before you see him fill your empty plate with more than half of his meal, “No, no, no,” you say, trying to reach for it as Vernon puts it out of reach from you.

“You need to eat, babe,” he says as he puts the dish on your lap, “Go on,” he smiles, patting your head before turning his attention back to his almost finished meal and the tv.

You smile down, cheeks red from your boyfriend’s attention. You notice how he gave you the tastier part of his dish – meat, veggies and a lot of gravy with a good amount of rice – and he kept most of the rice and only a piece of meat for himself. You start to eat happily, re-adjusting your position on the sofa to be closer to him. It might have been a year and a half since you started dating with no I love you’s said, but you know this is how he shows he loves you. And that is enough for you – it will always be.

It's now been two years since you started dating Vernon; you’re 26 years old, living with your boyfriend, your two cats and waking up every day with the love of your life next to you. Life is beautiful and you could not ask for more. To celebrate your anniversary with Vernon, you planned a trip to your hometown - only a 1 hour-drive from home – so you can have your date where you first kissed: at the cinema. If someone told Vernon he would one day ignore a movie to give his attention to a human being, he would have laughed at their face. But here he is. Countless of movies and shows watched with you right there, next to him, and yet you always steal his gaze away from the screen. You are just so beautiful, he thinks to himself. And when he sees you, laughing at a stupid joke from a character, he smiles with you. Not because the joke is funny, no, but because he cannot watch you without his heart filling up and his feelings pouring out onto his lips. He knew since he woke up that day, on your 2 years anniversary, that he would say it. It had been on the tip of his tongue since the first time he saw you in elementary school, smiling at everyone and saving bugs, but he always held it back. He thought it would be too soon, too fast, too much – but how can love ever be those things? he realized recently. He had said I love you a thousand times already through his actions, he had said he loved you out loud to his friends, his family, his cats. He thought now was the time you should hear it. So, all day, his head was in the clouds, thinking how to bring this up, how to say I’m in love with you to his soulmate. It happens when you pull him into your apartment at 1 am, your anniversary already over. You both get rid of your shoes, the tiredness of the day finally falling on your shoulders, before you pull him into you for a hug. Your arms stay at his waist, his heart going thump, thump, thump against yours as his cheek rest on the crown of your head.

“Gonna let you go to sleep,” you mumble against his shirt before letting him go, “I’m gonna shower.”

“Hey- babe,” he says softly to get your attention, his hand wrapping around your wrist, “need to tell you something,” he tells you as you’re pulled back against his chest, hands on his front as one of his rest on your waist, the other one covering your cheek.

“Everything’s okay?” you ask, rubbing circle on the fabric of his shirt.

“Yeah, everything’s good,” he whispers, his eyes going down to look at your lips and up again, “You’re pretty,” he speaks under his breath, a blush making its way on your cheeks – and his.

“Thank you,” you smile as you reach for his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, “You’re not so bad yourself,” you whisper against his lips.

He holds onto your cheeks, your foreheads resting against each other, “I love you,” he murmurs so low you think you made it up but as you open your eyes and see tears in his own, you know this is nothing but real life.

“Oh,” you gasp softly, taken aback, “I love you too,” you say, smiling up at the love of your life.

“I know this was long overdue and I’m sorry it took me so long-“ he starts to babble, uneasiness bubbling in his chest before you cut him off with a kiss.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, playing with the hair at his nape, “To me, you’ve said it a thousand times,” you reassure him as he blushes, chuckling softly at how you always find the right words for him, “But a thousand more wouldn’t hurt,” you tease slightly, making him snort.

“I love you,” he repeats, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as yours find a resting place at his waist, rubbing his back over his shirt.

“Again,” you say with a smile in your voice before kissing his chest in an I love you too.

“I love you,” he says against your hair, his hands making its way under the straps of your dress.

“Again,” you ask him, never getting enough of these words flowing out of his lips.

“I love you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, leaving a kiss behind, “so much.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing this,” you whisper, your hands meeting the end of his shirt, “I love you,” you say as you touch his bare back.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says like a mantra, “I’d unlearn any other words so all you could hear is my love for you,” he whispers, his eyes meeting yours, before your lips collide – just like your worlds did so many years ago.

You’ve always found reassurance in this quiet love you and Vernon were giving each other – but maybe you liked your love being a little louder sometimes.

thank u for reading! hope you enjoyed hehe <3

[vivwritesfics]

hey! i love your pet series, and we've seen a lot so far. from moon to fernando jr there were a lot of absolutely adorable one shots!

and i wanted to request maybe a pet cow (mini or otherwise, i love cows they're just so cute) with danny ric? i mean, we all know that he loves texas, farmlife, etc. so I think that would be really fitting for him!

thank you in advance, even if you decide not to do it:)

texas_ric

liked by y/nl/n, and 75 others

texas_ric did you guys know that daniel ricciardo has a cow? that's such a danny ric thing to do

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username1 omg that's so pure of him

username2 obsessed

username3 the cow is so cute holy shit

y/nl/n Danny and i actually have several cows! we went to an auction in Texas and we couldn't stop ourselves

y/nl/n

liked by danielricciardo, and 201,293 others

y/nl/n the ricciardo gang

view all comments

maxverstappen1 petition for you to name the next one after me

charles_leclerc petition for you to get another two and name them max and charles

username4 lestappen omg

danielricciardo our army

y/nl/n i think the most common term for it is family, danny

username5 what are their cows called, does anybody know?

username6 the friesian calf is niki, the brown calf is senna, the big cows are schumacher and prost but i don't know which way round it is

y/nl/n

liked by landonorris, and 293,012 others

y/nl/n senna is so pretty 🥰🥰

view all comments

danielricciardo my favourite son ❤❤

y/nl/n danny! you can't say that!

username7 omg the ricciardo's are so cute

username8 you could rescue instead of being selfish and getting a calf

username9 real fans know that they rescued a pregnant heifer and that's how they got senna

username10 pls bring senna or niki to a grand prix

username11 pls let moon ride senna

landonorris which team does senna support?

y/nl/n definitely not McLaren username12 omg the shade

danielricciardo

liked by y/nl/n, and 304,583 others

danielricciardo one step closer to becoming a cowboy

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y/nl/n my cowboy

danielricciardo *cow man

username13 what's the next steps for cowboy danny?

y/nl/n need to convince him to get horses

username14 omg baby niki

username15 i hope they get more farm animals

username16 i hope they take at least one of the cows to gps

username17 omg niki in a red bull hat would be so cute

y/nl/n

liked by danielricciardo, and 249,438

y/nl/n so... we did something

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maxverstappen1 please tell me their names (and that one of them is named after me)

y/nl/n okok we've got charles, yuki, alex, pierre and max

username18 omg they've named them after the rb drivers + charles

danielricciardo what're we getting next?

y/nl/n a baby

username19 SHE DID NOT JUST DROP THAT SHE'S PREGNANT

charles_leclerc charles is the cutest sheep

danielricciardo you don't even know which one charles is

username20 how aren't more people talking about the fact that she's pregnant

username21 congratulations to my grid parents

[earthtooz]

x : BOX OF SURPRISES :*+ﾟ

in which: sampo has something for you and you fall a little more in love with him.

warnings: 1k wc, FLUFF (slight angst), reader is a little mean :,) but it's bc sampo's annoying, gn!merchant!reader, banter, seemingly unrequited feelings, ambiguous relationship?

a/n: need this pathetic sop of a man so badly it's not even funny. anyways, enjoy! pls rb if u liked it :D

“sampo, what is the meaning of this?” setting down the heavy boxes of goods with a huff, suspicion stirs in your gut. 

“did you not see my text earlier? i could have sworn you read it,” he hums, trailing off thoughtfully as he looks at you through his swept-aside strands of hair. 

you look away from the carefree glint in his eyes whilst ignoring the pounding of your heart.

“i’m working, sampo- being an ethical and trustworthy merchant is a hard job, y’know?”

the man laughs, boisterous and loud. a migraine is coming, it's only natural to get one after dealing with its human embodiment. 

“don’t you have other things to do?” you mutter.

“what, other than talking with my favourite fellow merchant?” 

“you mean terrorising.”

sampo laughs again. this time, he shuts his eyes close and grins so wide that he flashes his annoyingly perfect teeth. it’s so painful that he’s so beautiful, if only that could excuse his horrendous personality (you adore him). 

pretending to wipe a tear from his eyes, he sighs wistfully. “this is why i love talking to you, never a dull moment with you, y/n.”

you try not to let his flattery get to you. besides, he probably says this to all of his competitors just to butter them up, breaking their walls before inevitably taking them and distributing their resources to consumers at cheaper prices. 

“whatever, sampo. will you leave me alone now?”

“hey, hey, hey, what’s the rush?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips. you try not to look at the exposed skin that sits above. “the business day is over. don’t you have some time to spare for little old me?”

“the business day may be over for me but never for crooks like you. besides. i need to pack up  and i want to go home, so i don’t appreciate any delays.”

“you think of me as a mere ‘delay’?” sampo gestures to himself, all grandiose and dramatics. “i’m hurt, and here i was thinking that we had a connection.”

there’s a part of you that hopefully yearns for him to expand on the ‘connection’ he so speaks of, but the desire fades as quickly as it appears, replaced with dejection instead. to cross the line with sampo koski would be fatal for your business and you fear that you were already toeing the boundaries. tolerating and talking to him for goodwill was one thing, but going ahead and falling for him was another. 

furthermore, you don’t like the feeling that he knows about how you feel. everywhere you turn, sampo is there, leaning against the wall, looking like temptation itself as he toys with those small blades of his. they’re kind of like boomerangs, but you’re not too sure.

there’s a lot about sampo you’re not too sure about- perhaps if you weren’t a competing merchant, you would have tried to learn them all. 

“you drive me insane,” you murmur, packing up all the leftover goods into a crate.

“let me help you,” he offers, picking up some goods and sorting them without permission. you have half a mind to slap him away, but against the better judgement of your brain, you allow him to assist.

when the crate is filled, sampo walks over to grab another empty box, passing it to you. you eye him suspiciously and the blue-haired merchant is quick to make a comment on your speculatory glance. 

“why are you looking at me like that?” 

“why are you… helping me?”

“what? is it so wild that sampo koski can be of assistance? i have some good in my heart, ya know,” he sings, reaching over your stall to adjust the twisted strap of your outfit. 

sampo winks at you when he meets your gaze again.

you hate the way your body reacts to his fleeting touch, and the way you want more. you want to feel how his hands would fit in yours, or around your waist, or holding your face, or-

“speechless, are we now?” chuckles the merchant. “i normally elicit this reaction-”

shaking your thoughts away, you cut him off with a slam of your crate, defeated by the betrayal of your own wandering mind. “sampo.”

for a moment, shock shines in his eyes, his hair bouncing as he jolts. you also can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to run your hands through it. if he won’t share his heart then perhaps his hair care routine could do, after all, it is unfair to have such luminous hair despite running around all day.

“didn’t you have something for me?” you ask, trying not to let your exasperation bleed into your tone. “that’s why you’re here, no?”

he presses a hand to his chest and acts like he's been shot. “so you read my message and chose not to reply? i’m hurt, y/n, how cou-”

“sampo. please, i’m in no mood to banter. can we get this exchange over and done with?”

for a flash of a second, you delude yourself into seeing a slight furrow in sampo’s eyebrows, expression moulding into something akin to sadness. it’s a face that will haunt your dreams, you think, especially with the way he glanced away from you, doubt evident in his body language as he nods shyly.

it's not like sampo to break eye contact, but he recovers too quickly for you to comment on it and then further shuts you up when he presents an innocently pretty box. through common sense, it looks like a box of chocolates, but because you know sampo koski, you’re a little frightful of the contents inside. 

“wh-what’s the meaning of this?” you ask, eyeing the gift carefully.

sampo pushes it further towards you. “open it and find out!”

“it’s not going to blow up in my face, is it?” 

“do you think so little of me?”

“yes, because you trick people like this, sampo, by presenting a seemingly innocent box of chocolates and then bam- they blow up in-”

“okay, okay, i promise this isn’t one of them ones that go ‘bam’! trust me!”

"okay... i'll trust you on this one."

with a little reluctance, you take the outstretched box, scepticism written all over your face. preparing for the worst, you untie the little bow and gently lift off the cover, melting at the contents within.

chocolates of various sizes and design litter the inside and the cuteness of it is enough to make you melt, the small smile appearing on your face only a tiny indication of the affection growing within you. not to mention, these sweets don’t look like the cheap mimics that the underworld produces. how did sampo get his hands on these, and why would he give them to you?

suddenly laced with guilt at the unnecessary attitude and rudeness you showed him earlier, you look up with a ‘thank you’ and apology on the tip of your tongue, but he’s gone. disappeared into thin air at the crumbling of your heart's walls.

disappointed, you sigh and make a mental note to thank him the next time you see him. resuming your packing up, you’re unaware of the new brightness your expression carries, and how you move around with a little more bounce to your step.

hugging the gift close to you, a certain merchant lays low nearby and watches how enthused you seem by the new gift. sampo concludes then and there that your smile is priceless and he would do anything to be the cause of it.

if only he could tell you.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[cupcraft]

Ranboo rebrand stream important stuff in one single post!:

if anything i missed pls rb and add on!

chat etiquette! They are going to be more strict with this (but not for new chatters honest mistakes).

Ban 101 -> the number 1 rule:

racism, antisemitism, homophobia, transphobia, discrimination. Instant ban, no excuse. Even bigoted jokes! 0 tolerance! you will be banned from even viewing the streams. This even counts on doing it on other streamer's chats/platforms if found out!

More rules: be funny (please!) and chill and kind and use emotes (including BTTV), dont spam chat (will be fixed/enforced bc of past issues),

other tidbits/news:

the vtuber/stuff will evolve over time, there are different vtuber outfits/costumes planned (ex they have an mcc outfit already!), the room in the background will change, they will be reaching out to ppl for collabs (feel free to recommend people but do not spam their chats!), planning to do more irl streams (will be weird/experimental and they will go wild! They will be making weird stuff!), they also have plans that they are excited to tell and its been a long time coming (this may be the cake video but i couldnt tell in stream), ranboo bakes a cake 2 will be coming TOMORROW on youtube (23 mins and incredible! they laughed at themself), ranboo plans to do experimental stuff on youtube (they have gotten into film lately!), founder's cut of gen 1 of genloss will be coming out 2-3 months ?? date/end of year, the vtuber ranjacket will be a part of the merch drop prototype at vidcon (physical jacket!), will be doing competitive/events with people (like organized little thing) (content/what it is undetermined) and he wants it to be obscure and random, ranboowaslive will start to ramp up a bit (more clips/compilations to come esp if you dont enjoy long vod watching), ranboo will be eating a nintendo DS cartridge live on stream (a joke!), MORE SURPRISES KEPT AS A SECRET + tiny plans in the works, they are moving into the new place/still have boxes to unpack (vtuber lore), he may finish the last of us part 2, subathon (really like back to back fun streams/long streams/playthrough of long games like omori) in january probably, splatoon may return,

What does the new era mean/qna stuff?

talking about old content is fine as long as you recognize that it is the PAST and not the kind of content ranboo makes now. Do not "put them back in the box".

Vtuber: will not be used all the time. They will do facecam streams too. Depends on how he feels.

why the r800: the 8 looks like a b LMAO

this is just the start of rebrand. He will re-establish a lot, things will be easier to find/reorganized, slowly over the weeks things will be changing.

what will happen tothe alt twitter (ranaltboo)?: new pfp, same energy (see below my shitty sc). art creds to mochi!

not only just a rebrand for him and the look of the content. But also it is a rebrand of how they act around and view their own content. they may not be as in the community as he has been (liking fanart/in chat/etc.) out of recommendation from people! If ranboo needs to be aware of something THEY HAVE PEOPLE to make him aware of important issues/emergencies and they will be focusing more on themself and the content overall. they are thankful to be allowed to do this, as they dont want to keep seeing things they dont want to see/have that anxiety. Less scrolling = more content!

They will probably have longer streams again!

will move to more mature jokes/phrases and may have content labels on the streams. Overall, streams will be pg-13 mostly.

TITS stands for twitch integrated throwing system [insert ranboo's giggle here]

All proceeds donated to ranboo's channel only go to charity! Not to them at all! They have a list of charities that he supports and will be changed 1-3 months at a time like usual!

Please make stuff. This is how he gets ppl who edit and the emote makers/artists. Not forced. Just encouraging ppl who make stuff to make stuff and he appreciates it and loves it! Even if it is not about him just make it! AND SUPPORT ARTISTS BOOBERS!

[spaceistheplaceart]

I was rewatching BFU and decided that a lot of clips deserved to be reigen and serizawa because. well. what else are you gonna do while waiting for the next mob miércoles?

(pls rb!)

TRANSCRIPT UNDER CUT:

First Clip

Reigen: I wonder what that would look like on me... foot! No, I didn't mean that.

Serizawa holds the bone up to Reigen's crotch to compare.

Reigen: Umm... No.

Tome, Ritsu, and Shou laugh.

(Written next to Reigen is "C'mon Serizawa be serious.)

Second Clip

Reigen: if they do think I'm a ghost, I'm gonna give them the scare of their life right now.

Serizawa: okay.

Reigen screams very loudly for a long time.

Ghost: shit.

Third Clip:

Serizawa: He's probably doing some stupid bit where he's pretending he's a kid.

Reigen, in the woods: (in a high pitched, childlike voice) Oh, hey there, miss! It's just me, a little boy! Oh, I sure hope some lady doesn't show up and kill me! Check this out!

He puts on a hat worn by kindergartners in Japan.

Reigen: Oh, sure would love a little lemon soda! Oh, one thing I don't want is to be murdered tonight!

Fourth Clip:

Reigen: We're not the ghosts, you're the ghost. Unless...

Serizawa: You know, I guess I did get into that car accident a while ago and it was a pretty close call. It is possible I'm dead right now.

Reigen: One time I cut up an avocado. And there was a lot of meat left on the pit. And I put the m- I put the avocado pit in my mouth.

Serizawa: The entire pit? You put the...

Reigen: Yeah. And I started to just kind of-

(Reigen makes slurping noises like he's sucking the meat off of the pit)

Reigen: Get the meat off of it? And at that moment I was like: if I sneezed right now, this thing would lodge into my throat. And ever since then, I've kind of been terrified of avocados. But, the other thing is, I always thought: what if I did die then?

(suspenseful music)

Serizawa: fuck, dude.

Final Clip:

Reigen: are we doing more of this or can I use the Jacuzzi hot tub that we've been blessed with?

Serizawa: are you serious?

Reigen: are we going to spend the night here and not use that?

(they are in a bathtub together. the water is still)

Serizawa: the jets don't work.

(Reigen begins to weakly laugh)

Serizawa: We're just two guys sitting in a tub.

(The laughter continues)

END TRANSCRIPT.

[iceicewifey]

this includes those that prefer oc x canon, self inserts, etc. of course 💗

when i say 'ship lore' i mean stuff like how you/your oc met your f/o(s), how or if you/your oc affect the universe's canon, fankids—all kinds of stuffs like that. i don't only mean lore that's been written out, any lore you have that stays in your mind counts. and no, you don't need lore for your ship(s) to be valid. this is in no way a jab at anyone, i'm just curious. ;v;

pls rb after voting!

[teddybeartoji]

MICKEY YOUR RB ON THAT SMOKER!SUGU POST………. oh i need . lore . so badly

ROOMIE!SUGU BEING A SMOKER MAKES SOOO MUCH SENSE OBVIOUSLY (my heart goes out to depression era sugu and his inherent need for self-destruction 🫡) but i must know …. does he. try to get you to smoke 😳😳 does he … shotgun you……… or does he steal any cigarettes you buy with a teasing grin so you never start………. i need answers so bad misu you are my otp always

(also <3 ily!!! remember to have yourself a nice big meal if you haven’t already!!!!! <33333)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA deep breaths deep breaths...

you're out to get me fr ari you're insane i love you so much. OKEOKE OKE SO we did have a lil talk abt this already buut yeah in the misu world.. roomie!suguru definitely smokes. we have a little balcony in our apartment too so he doesn't have to like.. smoke out of a window or go down the stairs which is nice. aaand we have two little chairs outside too aand a little table and then we have a few plants too (he takes care of those i am awful with plants..) AAAND this is our regular hangout spot!!!!!!!!!! smoking or not, we like to sit there a lot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok now to the actual smoking lmao like i already mentioned i am not a smoker but i am not a Cigarette Virgin either so i don't have a problem if he smokes or not. i think smokers are hot and i'm not gonna lie abt he looks SO fucking good while doing it oh my god my heart is going to give out................................. so yeah i definitely grab one from him every so often bc why the fuck not. but... mostly he just shares the cig with me... sometimes he just holds it to my lips so i wouldn't get the smell on my fingers and he always holds eye-contact while doing that bc he's a fucking asshole aaand when i blow the smoke into his face to get back at him he just . grins at me.. (he's so fucking hot ari i really do think i'm gonna die if i think abt him too hard)

he isn't the biggest smoker ever though, shoko definitely does it more than him. buuuut he does always want at least one after a long day and i think that's more than fine (i am drooling rn). oh aaand whenever we're hanging out with satoru and shoko and they go out for a smoke i mostly stay with satoru lmao this is important ok me and him are very very very good friends in this au i baby him i tease him we get along so well that it makes suguru a little jealous and then shoko gets to tease him abt that😭😭😭

liike suguru's just leaning against the balcony railing while shoko sits on one of the stairs and he's just . looking at me and satoru laughing together inside and shoko thinks it's the funniest thing ever hgashdgghsahdghgsa AAAAAAAAND when they come back inside, he always plops onto the couch right beside me (like awfully close) and then puts his arm behind me on the backrest and he thinks he's. smooth lmao pls everybody INCLUDING ME knows what he's doing😭😭😭

mm i don't carry around any cigs but i do always have a lighter with me and while it is very hot when he lights his own cigs.. he lets me do it a lot too and this is also smth that makes me fucking dizzy bc he leans in so close and then holds onto my hand so it wouldn't shake and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH i hate him i love him i need to punch him i need to kiss him he's awful he's sexy he's the worst man alive

he definitely smokes weed sometimes too but uh. that's uhh. gulps very fucking nervously. that's when uh. Things happen ok i can't go into detail or i'll pass out.. he gets very touchy LIKE VERY TOUCHY i mean like nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck while toying with the hem of my shirt YEAH YEAH YEA H I NEED TO STOP HERE FUCK .

[boyswillbedogz]

HI MUTUALS PLS TAG THIS STUFF

tagging @mewos-laptop @mx-werebat & @mullet--head since i interact w yall the most and see a lot of your stuff on my dash

its fine if you dont tag these things or forget to. weve been online & are used to seeing upsetting content. we js prefer not to. feel free to ask questions if smth doesnt make sense, but generally tagging 'just in case' is encouraged. ordered by most -> least important

will be blogging the tags #tagging for dogz & #dogz look away

! these dont apply to Welcome To Night Vale, The Magnus Archives or associated fan art

💫 anything involving weight loss been recovering on & off from anorexia for years. this is the most important one cuz itll fuck us up dhdjfshhd 💫 derealization, Unreality & "found footage" ie; marble hornets, the backrooms, SCP foundation. any horror thats presented as if it could possibly be real. also anything that implies reality isnt real, "youve been in a coma for ___ years" type shit etc. triggers our psychosis badly. 💫 distortion horror, uncanny valley horror, paranormal horror & analog horror i <3 it but it fucks with my derealization & psychosis horrendously if im not viewing it under very specific circumstance. 💫 anything about stalking or heing watched, especially if its monsters paranoia/psychosis trigger, pretty self explanatory 💫 spooky rb bait & chainmail " if you dont ___ then ___" typical rb bait is fine, just not threatening stuff. paranoia. 💫 vocaloids & jack stauber's music derealization/psychosis trigger for unless viewed under specific circumstances. i genuinely dont know why.

💫 vomit we have emetophobia 💫 anything about bugs or spiders in skin & horror that hinges on disgust psychosis trigger & phobia/trauma trigger respectively. this doesnt apply to gore. 💫 anything about like, plants growing in/off people psychosis trigger/phobia

💫 anything that makes you think too hard about being a system gatekeeper hates it for some rzn. silly haha memes are fine, but no vents, actual psychology & research, etc. 💫 syscourse & shipcourse i dont care & its annoying to the point its upsetting 💫 bigotry or hate, esp if you dont want us to chew out the bully we dont actually care about this one, but we have ASPD, a vicious sense of justice/karma, and our persecutors are fucking mean.

💫 videos & gifs with very bright flashing images or loud noises migraines & autism & late night tumblr user owie

[causenessus]

Hi! I’m sending in another ask because I have horrible brainrot and need ALL the headcannons about suness <3

1. Does he let you paint his nails? If so do you guys get matching nails?

2. What’s your first dance song at your wedding?

3. What was the moment you were like “oh- I love him.”

4. What’s the weirdest situation you’ve said “I love you” in?

Please I need the fluffy things and so what if I bring up weddings a lot? I am projecting bcs I very much want to get married one day lol

<3

-love bakery anon 🍪

BUG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH <333 I HAVE HORRIBLE BRAINROT FOR BUGMU!!!!! I NEED ALL THE HEADCANNONS ON YOU GUYS <33

does he let you paint his nails? If so do you guys get matching nails?

HHHHH idk if you've read thru some of mango anon and me's yaps but i once told her about skater boy™ who unfortunately had me paint his nails once 😔😔 BUT!! I WILL TAKE THE POSITIVES FROM THAT SITUATIONSHIP AND LEAVE BEHIND THE NEGATIVES SO YOUR ANSWER IS YES!!! he lets me paint his nails <3 the first time it happened was we were watching a movie together and after i finished mine i grabbed his hand and he didn't realize what i was doing at first until he felt the little brush yk <3 and he simultaneously didn't mind and was also slightly worried about his teammates being annoying about it <3 but when he showed up at practice the next day he was like "actually, i'm cooler than all of u. my gf painted my nails 🖕" and then everytime he raised his hands and saw the black nail polish (ofc it's black <3) he was reminded of me teehee <3 but lowk without meaning to yes they match!! simply bc i love black nails and he likes black nail polish too so then it's fun when we're sitting on the train together, hands intertwined, and both of our nails are black <33

what’s your first dance song at your wedding?

HHMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM hold on i gotta look thru my spotify playlist for this bc idk anything about weddings and i literally hate playing music for others LMAO 😭 (ofc i went to the love notes playlist straight away) OKAY I'M HCING OUR WEDDING WAS VERY SMALL AND NICHE ANYWAY and maybe we lowk kissed everyone out for our first dance or were one of those couples that does it behind a curtain so it's an intimate moment and i would love for it to have been to heaven (take care), lose me on the way (hope sandoval) or darling (mannequin pussy) <33

what was the moment you were like “oh- I love him.”?

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm i love this man so much <3 probably the first time we were in a conversation together with some other friends and i got talked over but he was looking at me the entire time and was kind of like "what were you saying? before atsumu so rudely interrupted you bc he doesn't know how to wait his fucking turn? i'm listening ❤" and i almost fell to my knees and knew i must have this man

what’s the weirdest situation you’ve said “I love you” in?

i just KNOW that we have so many weird moments but def one of the weirdest was when we were at a cafe and this man accidentally knocked over a glass of water 😭😭 and i was embarassed af but he's also my man and i love him so much and i wouldn't rather be anywhere else but on the floor with napkins cleaning up a water spill with him <3 and i was just like "rin i love you you're so pretty" and he was just like "ness. angel. sweetheart. pls don't say that right now i'm bent over the floor cleaning up water. i love u too tho <3"

BUG PLS RB THIS WITH RANDOM HCS FOR WHATEVER SELF SHIP YOU'RE FEELING RN IF YOU WANT TO!! I'D LOVE TO HEAR MORE ABOUT YOU GUYS OMG I JUST LOVE HEARING ABOUT YOU GUYS ALL THE TIME <33

[crowgvts]

Ik this might sound weird at first but: when people rb selfies n videos of me n tag it with gender envy n similar stuff it almost makes me... Sad?

Like don't get me wrong I know a LOT of people mean it as a compliment and I do feel that way!

But idk I feel like it's because I am quite literally the epitome of the non-binary stereotype. I'm white, I'm built like a twink, I'm naturally androgynous.

Pls don't look at me and think you have to look like me to feel comfortable in your skin, I promise you there will come a time in your transition whether it be medical or social where you will look in the mirror and see yourself as Very Gender

[noses-in-winter]

Isn't She Lovely (M/F, F sneeze, 18+)

I do not often write M/F fics where the F character is sneezing unless I really, REALLY love a pairing, so! This is a fic where @ezynse 's OC Tala is sick + sneezy + in a bath and my OC Royce makes her nut and takes care of her! I have several written pieces w these two, so I may post more later....we shall See! Tala is 5'2, 23, chubby, works in a museum, dresses like Arthur the aardvark but with more subdued colors and better shoes. She's very smart, empathic and kind, and is NOT used to being treated like a princess. Royce worships her body, and for good reason. She sneezes AND orgasms in this fic! Yay! Royce is: 6'1, 26, simultaneously fat + beef, a steampunky, Victorian prince who worships a goddess whose whole thing is "you OWE your bitch an orgasm". He adores Tala and is rly bisexual in the way he takes care of her, I know you guys know what I mean. He's soft, sensitive and dramatic as hell.

As the title suggests, this IS NSFW, so pls don't read or rb if you're not an adult! Fic is 1.7k words. DO NOT REBLOG TO NON-SNEEZE BLOGS, THANK YOOOOOU _____________________________________________________

This was, most certainly, not the place that Tala wanted to have this approaching sneezing fit. To her dismay, the signs were clear in her heart and sinuses: Holding back would not be an option. 

Even amid the panic of the approaching sneezes, she almost didn’t want to climax. This moment with Royce, intimate and heavy and real, was too perfect to stop. When had a guy ever cared about her getting to climax, or even feel any pleasure during the experience at all? Nobody had ever held her like this in her life. There were all those hookups, sure, but there was no holding involved in any of those instances, or even a call back. And now she had a boyfriend that would cuddle up as soon as they got into bed. Or close on the couch. Or in the jacuzzi bath in his huge apartment. That last option had seemed the most appropriate for the evening, given the cold that had plagued her for the past three days. 

Her nose dripped. Tala sniffled and reached for the damp washcloth she’d used to clean up back when this had been a totally innocent bubble bath. She drew the cloth to her nose, wiping at it carefully. The texture simply irritated her quivering nostrils further.

Royce scooted closer to meet Tala’s pelvis. This only urged his thigh against her front as she rolled her hips against it. That’s what got the first little moan to shiver out of Tala. She started to lean forward, rocking against the motion as she let her cheek drop against Royce’s shoulder. After a moment of taking several shivering breaths, Tala came closer to kiss along Royce’s neck. Immediately, he took in a sharp gasp of air. 

“F-Fuck…Tala…” 

Oh, the way he was moaning now, too. It took a lot to get Royce to utter a curse. She had struggled to believe it at first, but it was clear that Royce really had meant it when he said pleasing her was his greatest dream, as well as the duty his goddess bestowed upon him. 

She pressed her chest against his, sure that he could feel her nipples, perky with the chill of her exposed skin. He was the sort who found a woman’s breast nothing less than a gift from the heavens, so his reaction was expected and immediate. “Oh, heart, you’re cold…” he exhaled, not quite against her ear. 

Tala only had to shift slightly when Royce reached behind him, retrieving a clean washcloth from the stack near the bath. He dipped the cloth into the hot water before drawing it up to Tala’s tit. He gave her areola teasing rubs through the warm washcloth. Tala’s breath snagged in pleasure as the texture of the cloth rubbed against her nipple. She let out that pleased little hum that she hadn’t yet realized was the first indication that she was nearing climax.

The moan from Royce that came a moment later synced perfectly with Tala’s. “My love…”

Tala couldn’t respond. Her breaths came in faster and faster bursts, her thighs starting to shudder around his. Fuck, she was close. “Royce,” she exhaled on a shivering breath. Okay, she needed this rhythm, needed the way he held her, rubbed her, kept her close and whispered to her---- Ohhhhhhhhh.

.....Okay. Okay…..Oooookaaaaay...

She melted into Royce’s arms, the highs of orgasm rolling through her. Tala’s hips give one--no, two more instinctive bucks as the feeling enveloped her still. Her thighs quaked around Royce’s knee. “Theeere we go, my angel…” he breathed, drawing close to kiss her cheek. “Oh, Tala. You're enough to turn a monotheistic man into a believer of all.”

Tala’s eyes were shut as she sighed comfortably. Despite the relaxing post-climax snugglefest, her nose still ran, and tickled. She sniffled, much louder than intended. The hot bath was amazing, of course, but the parts of her damp body that were exposed to cooler air immediately prickled with goosebumps. “Sorry…” she said with a little cough. “Just starting to get col--...” As if on cue, Tala trailed off with an irritated little flare of her nostrils. Still stradling Royce’s thigh, she could only hold herself close to him and turn her head away.  “Hh’kkt! Kgxtch!”

“Bless you, my heart,” Royce whispered, peppering kisses into Tala’s hair. One hand reached up to cup one of Tala’s breasts. Royce gave it a ginger thumbing; Her nipples were still firm from that orgasm, and his tender touches were more than relaxing. 

 “Th-Thank you. I’m sorry. I-I was trying to say, umb, sdf!...Don’t…Don’t sell yourself short,” she said on a quiet exhale. Tala chuckled with a tired sigh. “You’re the one with the sturdy knee, and all.” She blushed and turned her head to kiss his cheek. He was prickly from going a day without shaving. This was a sensation that used to be a turn-off for Tala, but with Royce it was unbearably hot to her. 

“Oh, my love, a sturdy man in a seat is simply there to fulfill the duties his goddess bestows upon him,”  Royce said, just close enough against her ear to get Tala leaning into the whisper. “Keeping fine ladies steady as they moan…” He rubbed his thumb against Tala’s nipple. “....and squirm….” 

Tala let out a shivery little breath, nestling her nose along his cheekbone in just the way he loved. On cue, Royce wiggled slightly beneath her with a little laugh. Always the saaame spot that got him. “Let me take care of you, now…” she said with a sniffle. He was absolutely hard. He had been for ages now. When Tala reached down into the water and found Royce’s firm cock, she circled the tip with her thumb. Slowly, her black eyes moved up to meet Royce’s. “Is this okay?”

Royce’s lashes fluttered shut with a trembling little breath of his own. He sniffled and straightened himself, looking at Tala with a concerned knit to his brow. “L-Let’s leave the tub, mm? Get ourselves… comfortable.”

Royce, of course, was much bigger than Tala. When he stepped out of the tub first, the water level dropped quick enough to expose Tala’s bare shoulders without pause. She sniffled and rose with his help. Royce wrapped a towel around Tala first before taking care of himself, hurrying to pat every inch dry. They both flirted as they waited, in the soft and loving way they had. Royce had made it clear early on that her chest was a godsend, so Tala was pleasantly accustomed to the way he watched it shift as she moved, and jiggled when she stopped. Especially when she…

“Iht’tTSHHih! hhH’KSHhhiue!” Ohh, two sudden sneezes. Tala was at least able to pull her towel over her nose, though that perfectly exposed her chest as it wobbled with the sudden outburst. 

“Bless you, my dear. Heavens, Tala…” Royce breathed, slapping both hands over his heart. “Seeing you like this! I would love nothing more than to paint a proper portrait of you again soon. As free as you are now, how beautiful.”

Tala blushed at the memory, finishing off her drying efforts. “The portrait I sneezed through, you mean?" she said with a sniffle. “Sorry again, for messing up the painting. I-I know it was hard for me to, uh…stay still…”

“Messing up? Oh, no, no, unthinkable,” Royce said with a smile. “You, my love of loves, my goddess of goddesses, could never ‘mess up’ in a moment of showing off your true beauty. The way you quivered in anticipation, the way your eyes glossed over as your--”

“Htt’ktt-choo!” No, damn it! “Hihhgstch! Hoh, I’m sorry…” Tala breathed, lashes still fluttering. Okay, it was getting harder for her to shake this little bursts of sneezes after. 

Luckily, Royce was scooping her up into his arms in an instant. Tala balked and wrapped both arms around his neck. That lasted for about two seconds, at least. She still had to sneeze. Stifling was getting harder, so Tala pinched her nose shut the best she could. “Hggkt! Hhktch!” “Ohhh, dear…” he cooed, nestling his nose against her temple. “That cold still has you in its grip, my heart. Perhaps we ought to get you tucked in bed…”

Tala shook her head and simply let Royce carry her from the bathroom. “No, no, no…I’m okay, Royce, really…I’m a little tired, that’s all, but nothing I can’t handle. It’s too early to sleep, anyway…”

Royce chuckled, letting his nose nuzzle her cheek. “Well, then we won’t sleep…” he purred before setting Tala down on his bed. Quick as lightning, he shot over to turn on one of the low, romantic lamps on the dresser before getting back to her in an instant. He brought along a box of tissues to put on the bedside table. Tala blushed and rubbed beneath her nose. “Um, th-thanks. Hope I don’t need those anymore…”

“It’s perfectly fine if you do, heart…” Royce said, starting to pull the covers back. Tala needn’t any urging before hurrying under the blankets. She snuggled up into Royce’s arms instantly, embracing her sturdy boyfriend. “I want you to rest, though, alright? I don’t mind if I don’t climax tonight. I can do that any time. All I want is for you to lean back, relax, and allow me to tend to you.” 

Tend to her. Did Tala ever think that anyone would want to tend to her? 

“And don’t think about smothering your sneezes, dear. Use all the tissues you need, but don’t give yourself a headache.”

“Mb’kay,” Tala said in a stuffy little hum. She simply leaned back, allowing Royce to carry out whatever duties his goddess gave him. 

[broodwolf221]

fic rec list!

been seeing a lot of these today and it got me thinking about making my own :o tumblr urls added whenever possible if you happen to know an author's tumblr url that didn't get listed, pls rb this and @ them! i'm not trying to keep my recs or praise any kind of secret from them :')

keep your hands on me by LathboraViran (cullen/solas; rated E; no archive warnings apply)

author summary: Cullen is bad at card games, and Varric doesn't always play for coin. The cost of a lost game of Diamondback? Cullen has to kiss Solas. It goes both better and worse than he had expected.

my notes: i really loved this - both cullen and solas are written incredibly well. it's hot, nuanced, and feels so true to both of them and how they could come together meaningfully

With the Tide by desiredemon (jazzmckay) ( @jazzmckay ) (fenris/m!hawke; rated T; no archive warnings apply)

author summary: In the wake of their final fight for Kirkwall, Hawke and his friends escape the city together. They've been through an ordeal, the future is uncertain, and emotions are still running high--in the aftermath, the dust settles.

my notes: jazz is an extraordinary writer and they managed to get everyone's voices down so, so well. this is a compelling look at what happens after the events of da2, with all the inherent complexity intact

Power, Intrigue, Danger, and Sex by Hezjena (andruil/fen'harel/ghilan'nain; rated E; no archive warnings apply)

author summary: When Solas later recalled the evening, he liked to imagine it was the result of careful manipulation, a triumph of his skilled diplomacy and a delicious trickery where he allowed himself to be underestimated… rather than the result of too much ice wine and morbid curiosity. *** That time Solas accidentally-on-purpose has a threesome with Andruil and Ghilan’nain in Ancient Elvhenan.

my notes: okay, i am head over heels with how everyone is written here. solas' characterization is perfect, and both andruil and ghilan'nain are utterly fascinating - as individuals, in their dynamic with each other, and in the way they interact with solas in this. it's hot and messy, mind the tags, and a wonderful examination of arlathan's culture

let me wrap my teeth around the world by wizardlover ( @wizardfvcker ) (solas/varric; rated E; no archive warnings apply)

author summary: “Aren’t we friends, Solas?”

This seems to startle him enough that he turns to look at Varric. In the dimness of the tent his eyes reflect the light from the fire outside, like a wild animal.

“I would call us that, yes."

“Then won’t you share whatever burden is pressing you down with me? That’s what friends are for, you know.”

“Not this one." Varric sighs.

“Come on, Chuckles. I’ll get back out there and get the Inquisitor to spill it, but it seems like a waste when I’m already here.”

Solas is quiet for a long moment—he has shifted around again, so Varric can only see the rise and fall of his back as he breathes, carefully controlled.

“I am… compromised,” he says. Varric waits. “That damned plant, combined with an errant spell—I have… urges. And I can’t—it is—” He cuts himself off, frustrated, and isn’t that a wonder, Solas out of words? And then,

“Urges?” Varric stifles a laugh. “Do you mean—”

“You know what I mean, dwarf,” Solas hisses, and Varric realizes that his neck is red and the tips of his ears have gone pink, and that the air in the tent is warm and stuffy and a little heady, all of a sudden. He clears his throat.

my notes: i am, of course, always so thirsty for solas/varric content - the world needs more of it - but also this particular fic is delightful. i love the writing, particularly the way varric describes solas' behavior and staring - i've come back to read this multiple times because it's just... really, really good. also hot!

The Switch by playwithdinos ( @playwithdinos / @dinoswrites ) (f!lavellan/solas; rated E; creator chose not to use archive warnings)

author summary: Lavellan usually lets Solas take charge when they're alone, but she's back from slaying the Fereldan Frostback and she's not in the mood to bow to anyone.

Fill for this kink meme prompt: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/13696.html?thread=53207680

my notes: love this one soooo much - lavellan is fascinating here and the way she takes charge is delightful, i particularly enjoyed how it began so much earlier than in the bedroom - and solas is written so well, love his characterization here. it's very hot and another i've definitely come back to

That Time of the Month by bluebeholder ( @wanderingnork ) (f!adaar/solas; rated E; no archive warnings apply)

author summary: Kubide gets her period. Solas offers a suggestion for how they might have some fun.

They're going to have to burn the sheets when they're done.

my notes: love this one so much - every line is just rife with characterization and depth, absolutely love the way kubide conducts herself and her reactions throughout, the physical descriptions are wonderfully done, and overall it's super hot and makes their feelings for each other incredibly clear.

In the Blue Morning by rosieofcorona ( @rosieofcorona ) (f!lavellan/solas; rated G; author chose not to use archive warnings)

author summary: He wants to stay like this forever, wants the sun to forget to rise, wants the castle to sleep and sleep in an endless dream.

But the light keeps coming, every moment. The castle will wake, and they will see.

And this will cost them, in the end.

my notes: this was such a delight when i first read it, and still such a delight when i just reread it now ;o; the way everything is described is really beautiful, and the balance between them, the juicy foreshadowing, everything, it's so good. a soft moment that acknowledges what is to come

Master and Apprentice by ar_lath_vhenan ( @arlathvhenan ) (f!lavellan/solas; rated T; no archive warnings apply)

author summary: He was playing with her then, just as she had played with him only moments ago. He’d seen through her thinly veiled flirtations—her shameless assault on his composure—and finally settled on a counter offensive now that he possessed the upper hand. The tricky bastard. — In which Solas teaches Lavellan to paint

my notes: i really, really enjoy this fic - the intimacy alongside the uncertainty is wonderfully complex, and the descriptive language for how they manuever around/with each other has never failed to impress me. love this lavellan too <3