#my boyyyyyy

[pandoa]

wait actually…

twst cooked with this. considering his childhood with his mother and how he was always kept inside his home to study rather than play outside with the other children, this lowkey (high key) makes sense lolol

i see the vision. brava.

[yall-got-me-fucked-up]

EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP ITS HERE ITS HERE ITS HERE NONE OF YOU BITCHES WILL EVER KNOW PEACE THANK YOU GOD HALLELUJAH

[glowcowboy]

[brewstersbru]

Short bkdk because I am SAD and katsuki is DEAD (for a little bit) 💚🧡

The hospital was miserable. Not just because it was chock full of grieving families and people balancing on the knife’s edge between life and death, but because—despite the fact that he survived—Katsuki was still being grieved.

He could see it in Best Jeanist’s eyes when he visited, dropping off some new, incredibly soft clothes for him to wear that weren’t open-backed hospital gowns. Guilt. Regret. Katsuki was alive, sitting right in front of him, and he still couldn’t quite see past the mirage of blood on his face.

Aizawa, too, had barely been able to look at him. Brought the three third years so he didn’t have to be alone with Katsuki. Face what he saw as one of his greatest failures as a teacher. A mentor. At least that’s what Katsuki thought.

The old man brought well wishes from the class. Some flowers. And the black smudges beneath his eyes. Katsuki wondered if he’d slept at all in the aftermath. If he’d ever sleep soundly again. Katsuki sure won’t.

The third years praised his speed, commenting on how dazzling his explosions were, until the very end. Mirio told him he knew he’d be a great hero one day, that he practically already was one. Nejire seconded that and asked if all of his sweat exploded, and if it was inconvenient because of that. He was so viscerally reminded of Izuku, in the moment, that he nearly started bawling.

Amajiki didn’t say much, but he left a small bento with a note: eat up and regain your strength. thank you. you were incredible.

And still, through their attempts at normalcy he could see the way they watched him. As if he were liable to keel over again at any minute. He was fine, goddamnit. He was healing. That didn’t make him weak.

The hag and his old man visited daily. Couldn’t stop touching his face and neck and tilting him every which way to reassure themselves that he really was alive. That was more the hag, but every so often his old man—who generally strayed away from getting physical with him—would cup his cheek and run his thumb over the new scar there, eyes pained. Katsuki always shook him off, told him not to look at him like that, but the memory lingers, as they all do. The hag wouldn’t even smack him anymore, even when he knew he was being a brat. Taking his anger at the world and his body out on them when they did nothing to deserve it.

All of her touches were light, ghosts of things that made him feel uncomfortably unreal. She asked if he wanted to stay at UA, after everything, and something about the tilt of her mouth told him she already knew the answer. Still, when he said yes, without hesitation, she had to excuse herself from the room, eyes shining.

It was maddening. A purgatory of what-ifs that everyone except him was experiencing. The only ‘what-if’ Katsuki was concerned with was whether or not—if he was just a little stronger, had been able to land even just one more hit— Izuku would’ve been able to keep his quirk. But that’s for him. He keeps it close and inside and it’s no one else’s problem.

Now that he’s out—lounging in his dorm room after a less harrowing round of greetings from all the others, who didn’t know the situation and thus couldn’t feel guilty or grieve about it—it’s louder, the way he likes it. Normal.

Kirishima and Kaminari are wrestling somewhere loud enough for him to hear them jeering at each other. Iida’s yelling at someone for leaving a mess in the kitchen. It loosens something that had scabbed over in Katsuki’s chest.

There’s a knock at his door.

Sero? Possibly, but he would’ve thought he was with Kirishima and Kaminari, filming or something ‘for posterity’. It’s not Todoroki, his self-proclaimed ‘best friend’, because he’s at the hospital visiting his brother.

Before he can stand and open the door, it creaks forward and a bright green eye stares at him through the crack.

“Kacchan?”

Izuku.

Katsuki sighs and shakes his head.

“What was the point of knocking if you were just gonna come in anyway?”

He doesn’t say, ‘leave’ or ‘get out’ or ‘beat it, Deku!’. Izuku’s mouth quirks into a half-smile as he opens the door the rest of the way and steps inside.

“I thought you might be sleeping. I know it’s been a hard few weeks.”

Katsuki scoffs. And another one. Fucking- doubting him. Of course he's exhausted, sleeping is almost impossible right now and people haven’t stopped walking on eggshells around him. Doesn’t mean he’s going to be a pussy about it. He’s going to prove to them that he’s just as he’s always been, that he doesn’t need the goddamn kid gloves.

“Don’t start. I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“It’s not pity, Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice hardens. “I’m not here for you.”

And what a bewilderingly contradictory statement. He’s in Katsuki’s room. What else could he possibly be there for?

“What-“

He doesn’t manage to voice his incredulity before Izuku is on top of him, clinging tight, but gingerly, around his sides and burying his face into his neck. Katsuki nearly flinches back into his pillow with the suddenness of it.

“Deku- what the hell-“

Izuku breathes deep and reaches blindly up to clamp a hand over Katsuki’s mouth.

“Shut up. Give me a minute. And call me Izuku, I know you can.”

Katsuki, too shocked with his words and actions to do otherwise, gives him a minute. Izuku simply lies there, curled over him, and breathes. He matches his inhales to Katsuki’s and taps out the slow thrum of his heart against his hip. Hypnotizing. It’s surprisingly peaceful, and before long Katsuki finds himself lulled into a hazy, half-awake state.

Finally, Izuku speaks, voice hushed.

“You don’t- I don’t think you get it, Kacchan. You didn’t have to see yourself.” He shivers, and Katsuki finds himself raising his own arms to pull him closer towards his own heat.

“Your eyes… Empty. Dull. Dead. It was your body, but I knew you weren’t in there anymore. Someone—Shigaraki—had torn you out.” Something wet splashes against Katsuki’s neck, startling him. Izuku is crying.

“But I’m fine, now. I’m back. Edgeshot saved me.” Katsuki says, haltingly. His voice struggles over the word ‘saved’ but it’s the truth. He had to be saved. Because he couldn’t hold his own.

Izuku shakes his head and presses impossibly closer.

“I know that. I just- I just need to make sure.”

And Katsuki understands. More than anyone, he thinks, he knows exactly what’s running through Izuku’s mind right now. The nauseating mix of helplessness and self hatred.

“Okay.” He says. Then, a crackling whisper, so quiet that it’s only because Izuku is so close that he’s able to hear it. “I’m sorry.”

Izuku’s arms tighten, for a fraction of a second, around him before he pushes himself up. Katsuki swears there’s lightning in his eyes when they look at each other.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. You literally died because of me-“ His voice cuts off into sobs. Katsuki watches, dismayed, as another wave of tears begins cresting down his cheeks. Ah, shit.

Katsuki raises his good hand to hover over Izuku’s teary cheeks. Callously, and without much tact, his thumb smears some of the wetness from beneath his eyes. It doesn’t really do anything, and he curses himself for trying.

“Izuku, look, I-“ He tries to pull his hand back but Izuku snatches it from the air and presses it back against his cheek. There’s a wobbly smile building on his lips. Katsuki can hardly bear to look at it.

“It wasn’t your fault. I should’ve-“

“No.” Izuku says, turning to press Katsuki’s pulse point against his face, where he can feel his heart beat. “If it isn’t my fault, then it isn’t yours.”

Katsuki can’t bring himself to agree, yet. Not verbally. But he wants, desperately, for Izuku to stop crying so he nods, once, very stiffly.

Izuku’s teeth glint as his mouth stretches into a real grinning laugh. It feels like staring directly at the sun. Katsuki can’t look away.

“Alright. I’ll take that.” Izuku settles back onto Katsuki’s chest, ear pressed to his shirt as his hands migrate back to cage Katsuki beneath him. Like a blanket, or armor, his weight is familiar to Katsuki, soothing.

“Don’t move.”

Now it’s Katsuki’s turn to chuckle. As if he could. Izuku cracks an eye open to watch him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[daphnalia]

rip to he who was once the meanest teenager ever

[trevination]

sobs pathetically and curls into a ball. adopted ponyboy au……

[rice-n-honey]

Me when draals death it me so hard that my brain literally wiped it from my memory

[astrolauu]

l-l-l-legendary

[sailorskunk]

everybody's fave tricky lil fella <3

[apocalyptic-byler]

I LEAVE FOR TWENTY FUCKING MINUTES

[sserrafeim]

Watching the finale of season 1 like:

[palmolli]

In another universe, Akiran wasn't found by Ganondorf. Instead, he found a little ranch. He was taken in by the farmer and his daughter and lived a nice, happy little life. Until he had to go be a hero, or whatever. But I'm not going to elaborate on that.

[kheauzx]

tad strange lovers rise 🆙

[onelittleornotthing]

little pizduke

[sandinmybed]

new pj video is somewhat harrowing why are all these youtube men bleeding out their arses!

[cowlovely]

shawn spencer my beautiful mary sue <3