#stuff ive written

[cyrafoam]

let my intrusive thoughts win and made a twitter account.

is this a wise decision? definetly not.

but listen okay- it might be fun and I wanna find out if i made the worst decision of my life or not😤😤😤😤

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[deoidesign]

For my birthday... read my webcomic! It's literally free! (Unless you want books. Those are not free)

It's beautiful, it's gentle, it's funny, they're canonically t4t and gay... And it's about time traveling vampires solving supernatural mysteries!

I've spent thousands of hours writing and drawing it, and it's really good! I'm not biased!

It's on hiatus right now and coming back in 2 months, so it's the perfect time to get caught up

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

Don't give up. Don't be a quitter, a spitter.

Follow through on what you started.

Swallow.

Audio source

[basilpaste]

hey man. have i ever. have i ever talked about how often i think about isabeau recognizing loop from their eyes.

'yes basil.' you tell me. 'youve actually written about it like five times now.'

anyways heres another.

[friendly-alien-fucker]

Being with an ooman brought forth a good number of oddities, most of which they adored.

You were different from them, in terms of looks, yes, but also in terms of culture. And as they whiped away the liquid streaming from your eyes they realized once again how different you were in terms of morals as well.

"I'm a monster!" you sobbed, your voice frantic and shaky, and they took you into their arms on instinct at the sound.

"You're overreacting." They attempted to console you, which didn't quite work as intended they came to realize as you slapped their chest.

"I killed it! The poor little fella... they already have such a short lifespan..."

Seeing you in so much pain over the death of a being that didn't even have a conscience, they wondered how you managed to think of them as anything other than a monster. With their walls of proudly displayed trophies.

Some of them had only half your life expectancy, some lived longer than them. Some even had family.

"Fella?" they instead focused on consoling you through your strange breakdown "what makes you so sure it was male?"

You gasped, your eyes suddenly wide in horror "I didnt even think of that! What if it was female? What if it was expecting? What if I just killed an entire bloodline??!"

Though they were apparently not very good at it.

Unsure on what to do or say, they simply continued to hold you, the purring that they've subconsciously started to do getting louder.

"If it brings you any comfort", they began quietly as they heard your sobbing come to a slow stop "its unlikely it felt any pain, being the size that it was."

"It does," you mumbled, only parting from them shortly to whipe at your face "thank you."

They simply nodded.

How your species managed to become your planets apex predators remained a mystery to them.

[dullgecko]

Goblins being nocternal makes a lot of sense. They're small, safer to be out at night since they have good dark vision. Probably hunt mostly around dawn and dusk and spend the daylight hours sleeping and hidden away.

School hours would ABSOLOUTLY mess with Riz's circadian rhythm. Naturally he'd want to sleep around 9-10am, and if he pushes through that then he would hit the other side where he's wired and a little manic and CANT sleep at night properly (especially since his version of 'pushing through' seems to be trying to consume his own body weight in stimulants).

If he doesnt manage to win the fight against sleep at that time of day though, you could literally shake him like a ragdoll and he wouldnt fully wake up immediatly. He would wake up, but he'd be groggy and cranky and if he clocks the movement as not a threat he conks right back out again.

Its that kind of sleep-walking half-awake state where you could kindof ask him questions and get semi-coherant answers but he wouldnt remember if you asked him later. This is the danger state though, because if he does not recognise you half-asleep brain doesnt pull punches (or regulate how hard he bites).

If the bad kids know he's in their bag and he doesnt answer them after the first couple pats to the side, they usually leave him be (and its safe to grab their pencil case/text book or whatever else they need from inside without a mauling, because even passed out completely he'll clock its his friends as long as they give him a heads up). If he's still out like a light over lunch time Fabien will just suck it up and eat cafeteria food and leave his home-packed lunch mostly untouched (oh yes The Ball, i wasnt hungry do you think you can finish off that sandwich I would hate for it to go to waste).

It happens a lot more in winter becasue its so cold, and being wrapped up in one of his bigger teammates spare jacket or scarf that was shoved in the bottom of their bag is so comfy and muffles outside noise better. The cold does wake him up faster though, so open the bag at your own risk because the grumpiness doubles (sneaking secret head-pats is a lot harder in winter, there is a higher chance he will remember).

[vampiresbloodx]

Stardew valley au:

Farmer!reader moving to Pelican Town and taking over their grandfather's farm will definitely be a lot of sweaty, sleepless nights and drowning on coffee to make sure everything looks just as perfect as you saw in those photos of what the farm used to be.

That's when you meet everybody in town (slowly at least) and your very friendly neighbors, who you think are way too friendly or you're just socially anxious and not used to small town kindness. You cross paths with Natasha Romanoff and her roommate Wanda Maximoff, they live in the same house together, just not in the same room she explains but everyone else calls them roommates.

Wanda wasn't there when you introduced yourself shyly to Natasha, she was supposedly out doing whatever she was doing (to quote Natasha's exact words) the mayor has expressed how fond of them he was, even first mentioned it to you the day you had arrived in hopes they'd be delighted by your presence.

It seems as though getting to know Wanda was gonna be a hard one...

But you weren't the one to hide away from a task.

Natasha herself didn't look all too interested in the new farmer in town, she kept on muttering about meeting up with a friend, Carol you think her name was, there was a Val to? You weren't sure. Maybe you should pay attention more often if the girls you didn't meet weren't so damn gorgeous you couldn't stop staring.

Weeks passed, soon it was your first month staying in this town. And you had gotten your very own cat!.

It was very unexpected the morning you heard your door knocking and you opened it, revealing Natasha's roommate, Wanda, who was more shy than you had imagined, you thought she'd be more confident, like her roommate in a way, guess she was kind of like you, introverted, quiet. You couldn't help but stare at her more than you should as you took in all of her, the skirt she was wearing, the long boots, the leather jacket and loose shirt, it almost made you feel like a damn creep staring especially when her cleavage was almost poking out.

Despite how intimidating she looks, she was actually really nice to you, she apologized for not being there when you first came, she was busy with her online classes to which you had asked about her interests and was intrigued about it, she seemed to really like that.

Was every girl in this countryside small town this damn beautiful? You thought, trying to keep it together as you probably looked like a flustered mess in front of this woman.

"um, where was I..." Wanda chuckled, looking around the front of your farm house, you smiled, letting her take her time to gather her words. "Nat and I like to go to the saloon on Fridays, she does, I mostly enjoy spending time in my room, but if you wanted to join us, you can."

You couldn't help but notice how red her cheeks got when she was trying to ask that question. God it was adorable.

You nodded.

She looked surprised.

"you'll be there? Oh, cool! I'll let her know and all, I'm happy you came here, dunno why, there's not much happening- okay maybe there is and I just don't go out as much but that's just me okay I'll leave you be I'm starting to ramble now."

You were beginning to love this town a little more.

[ryssbelle]

Guy Diamond going to Heaven during Prince D's funeral was not on my bingo card for this month

[draconic-absurdism]

DESPERATE MEASURES

Story below the cut

An image of a doorway flutters in hir mind as ze shimmies upward ever further, nearing the flattening of the smooth linoleum pane, nearly teetering off the edge. And as hir vision blurs again, surely ze will fall. The wall, crisp and cold, audibly clacks, a desperate grasping with useless hooven fingers, tinged with a pulling at hir fuzzy chest as ze slides hirself up. There's no railing, nothing to grip.

Falling wouldn't be so bad, really. It never is, here in this place. Clouds roll on and on. It's comforting, almost, breaking barriers that, in a sense, are physically impossible, over and over again. To rely on something that contradicts nature. Or is it that nature itself is contradictory?

But ze's never made it quite this far before. As hir fingers crest the corner, ze pulls hirself up, slipping a final time before maneuvering one hoof onto flat land. But as ze huffs in relief, the image flickers again, and hir heart recoils into itself in horror as it realizes the door ze pictures has no stairway leading up, no clouds, no bluish tinge left to the sky. This is all wrong. How hadn't I realized?

Maybe this isn't the end of the path. But ze manages to arch hir head back far enough to get a glimpse up at the endless vertical stretch of the architecture, absurd in its scale, vanishing up into a single point in space beyond a layer of clouds so far up that they may as well have been pixels on a screen, and ze sees that this is indeed the wrong place and the wrong time.

I'm going to give up again. I'm going to stop trying again. It wasn't so bad in the water, floating around on the surface but never really breaking through. But even as ze mutters to hirself, the truth of the matter has already been decided, and bile rises in hir throat as ze realizes that an attempt at something so futile as this may not be worthwhile. Or maybe it is. Either way, in the end, you find that despite how gratingly alone you may feel, you aren't in solitude nearly as often as you think you are.

"Come up with me." The voice isn't startling. It's always a new one, but it says the same thing. It's the tone that really gets to hir. Sometimes sincere and sometimes otherwise, not like ze can ever tell the difference regardless.

"No," ze retorts, letting one hoof slip back down the slope.

The creature's slit eyes open up in what appears to be genuine surprise. "Oh."

"You can't help me. I'm in the wrong place."

"I don't think so."

'You don't get to tell me if I am or not."

"That's true...."

It's a nonsense conversation, the dragon lacking the entirety of context surrounding the boar's circumstances. Even if the discussion persisted for quite a while, it wouldn't understand beyond what is mostly universal, would it? But to say anything actually true to hirself would be to risk a level of vulnerability that ze's never quite known how to reign in. If it was called small talk, why did it always feel like hir lungs were set ablaze? A surface tension that can't be broken.

"...I can take you back down, then. So you don't have to fall, at least."

The offer almost makes hir laugh. Almost. "Frankly, I'd rather you just eat me at this point."

"Sure." It opens its maw.

The boar is genuinely surprised to have met someone who picks up on jokes even less often than hirself. Ze goes to scratch hir chin before realizing with a start that ze's still in a rather precarious situation, straightening up hir spine and smooshing her chest back up against the wall.

At some point in the moment of silence that follows, the dragon realizes its mistake and snaps its jaws shut with an audible clack. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

This time, the boar really does laugh. "You're fine."

Though the massive reptile's neck quickly disappears into a thick layer of fluffy white cumulus clouds, most of its body completely out of view, the boar gets the sense that its claws are shuffling uncomfortably in the grass so far below. The silence flows through both of their lungs on the next inhale, and the boar scoots up to stand along the edge of the flat plane, where there's a bit more room to shift around.

"I like the sound your hooves make," the dragon huffs.

"Oh, thanks. I liked the click of your teeth."

"Thanks."

There's another ten seconds or so of silence, and the shifting of the beast's claws grows slightly audible. But at least to the boar, it's not an uncomfortable silence, not really. Something about this thing in all its absurdity, its sheer size, the sharpness of its bladed face juxtaposed with its awkward expression, its fangs that jut out and give it a bit of a lisp, is really likable.

"I'm afraid that I like you." Why did I say that? What a stupid thing to say. You don't just tell people you like them. I wish you could.

"You don't have to be afraid of something like that," the dragon replies. This answer, while comforting, isn't convincing.

"I definitely do."

"You don't scare me."

"I'm not scary. I just like people a lot, but I'm not really good at showing it. I haven't had that many friends before, so I don't know how it works. I don't know how to connect with people, I don't know what I'm meant to say most of the time. Every version of myself that I've been before this very moment has been masked by some sort of complacency, some sort of veil of attempted normalcy that plagued me so deeply that I'd lost myself. And now I'm unpacking all these feelings I'd been trained to veil, and I don't know what to do with them. I'm not trying to complain or sound pathetic, it's not a self-pitying thing. I honestly like myself quite a bit, I just don't think I'm equipped for any of the situations I find myself in. I don't feel like the reality I was born into is one I can navigate so easily."

"Despite that, you've survived," says the dragon. "Though, you're kind of holding yourself back, don't you think?"

"Maybe so." I think of it just then, I think of what I have to do. It's the only way, really. Something I'd often been too stuck in my own head to ever really consider, and even on the rare occasion that I had, it didn't work out right. But the only way to find out if this time would be different is to try, and so I do. "Would you like to go sit on a rock with me somewhere?"

"A rock?"

"Yeah. Like, granite or something."

"I would love to. But um." The dragon shifts once more, this time with a bit more purpose as it leans in toward the boar. "I would still have to carry you. To get anywhere that has rocks, I mean."

"Oh." Ze hadn't really considered that, but the possibility of lounging in a dark enclosed space for a while was indeed enticing. "Yeah, that works."

"Anywhere that has rocks?"

"Anywhere that has rocks, yeah. Like a river or a forest or anything is fine, as long as we can both sit comfortably." The boar steps forward, a little cue that ze hopes might prompt the dragon, once again, to open up. Ze supposes its silly to rely on such things at this point. This, clearly, isn't someone who communicates through that muddling series of subtleties, a song and dance for which ze hadn't ever been quite able to get the footwork down, and yet would still attempt at times for the sake of acting as some sort of social chameleon.

It takes a second for the cue to click, or maybe the dragon is just unsure what to do with the near complete freedom of location. Eventually, it realizes it's time to go and opens its maw back up, and for the first time, the boar is able to see what's inside. To really see what's inside. Teal-green flesh and gums, metallic and slightly glittery in texture, accented pale minty green razor sharp teeth. A few are messy and chipped. And with that, the surface tension is broken, and the fluid of the beasts tongue engulfs hir, the wetness seeping into hir fur fully, not simply bouncing off. At first the sensation, alien and new, is unpleasant, and as ze squishes up against the beasts tongue as it closes its jaws around hir, ze shifts along the muscle and adjusts until a pattern settles. The grumbling of the great beast's throat as it lifts off. The relief of no longer teetering on that ledge as ze had so many times before. The fear that this might not last, that any expression of seeking longevity could come off as a bit too much for someone ze'd just met.

Though they hadn't just met, really, as ze recalled all the times before that the dragon had perched along that very ledge. Had it been the same one? Sometimes, probably. Not every time. This didn't really feel new, but it certainly felt more comfortable than times prior. Perhaps to credit this change to the dragon wasn't quite right. Perhaps it was hir own willingness to be vulnerable and ask the risky questions that rewarded hir with an experience that, while not new, didn't feel so scary this time. It feels stupid to admit that to myself in a way. I'd known all along that this would yield better results, so why, pray tell, was I so terrified? Why am I still so terrified?

Hir stomach drops as the beast's wings flap and it picks up speed, soaring through the endless sky, but its head stays mostly steady. And just as hir eyes begin to adjust to the darkness and the ridges along the roof of its mouth gleam a deep emerald jewel tone through the blackness, a beam of light shoots in with a gush of cold wind. The beast's teeth crack open just a bit, just enough to let the clouds enter its mouth and fill the space with dense fog, drenching hir in mist, the heat of the beast's body and the frost of the outside air swirling as one force of nature. The sensation reels through hir, and ze shudders as the beast's taste buds run along hir forearms. After it begins to run a bit cold, the teeth clack shut once again and dark warmth falls in again, that clicking sound of the sets of bones interlocking tingling in hir ears.

Something profound occurs to hir almost every day, it seems, and yet such things make progress only towards goals intangible to others. Something that lives in hir head and slams on a pane of glass and begs to be heard, but out loud it just sits there staring and waiting for an opportunity, waiting to be served something on a platter that isn't coming.

"I've known you for a long time, I think. I love you," says the boar. "I just want to tell you that, in case things go wrong somewhere down the line. I want you to know that, at least now, in this moment, I love you."

The dragon tries to respond, but finds that moving its tongue jostles the boar far too much, so it resorts simply to hugging the tiny creature with its tongue, curling each side up around hir body as a warm, wet blanket.

The silence is welcome this time.

[cyrafoam]

Okay never sacrifice sleep to draw art. because I slept for 14 hours today and had vivid dreams about meeting Neil deGrasse Tyson at a gas station that he is in love with. listen I don't know either.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

....so as it turns out I'm mentally ill over dragons rising

[cryptocism]

will never get over the fact that you dropped the best fic I'd ever read and that's the only thing you've written.

You should try making a novel

i am dabbling in other writing stuff actually...... potentially another fic about the blonde clone boy but who knows if itll manifest into anything, we shall see!

[ellilyre]

I saw a post about autistic Diomedes and was very interested if you have any other headcannon that relate to that or just about him in general

Yes !! I love him sm. Let's go for my autistic Diomedes headcanon >:)

(also he's one of my fav characters so you can find more rambles and HCs about him on my acc ;))

(Just to make clear this is very self indulgent and many things r based on my own experience with autism)

Tbh it all started when I saw that and immediately thought of Diomedes

He can lie but he rarely considers it as an option. When someone asks him anything it just feels normal to tell the truth (and it tends to annoy Odysseus)

He also sucks at tones and facial expressions (both to use and to understand in others) so he appears as very unexpressive and hardly gets hints or sarcasm or anything (which may cause problems with some ppl (coughlyingodysseuscough))

He often sounds meaner and more rude than he means to, but ppl assume it's bc he has high expectations of them and it usually motivates them to do better.

He also gets praised for not complaining after months of eating the same 3 meals during a long expedition, but.... He genuinely enjoys eating the same things over and over.

As a kid he hated eye contacts but he was told it's rude so he forced himself to get over it. Now, he straight up stares too much at ppl, and that makes him come off as intimidating (he doesn't mean to, he just wants to be polite.)

He bites things, a lot. (Usually either his knuckles, the skin of his hands, or the inside of his cheeks. But tbh if he's not paying attention he will chew on anything between his hands).

In my experience all autistic ppl have at least one animal they adore. For him it's the horses. No matter how old he is, he will always go "omg horses" and attempt to pet them bc they're just that cool to him.

Also he has no clue he's different so he assumes "I seem to be the only one struggling with things such as social gatherings where there are a lot of ppl talking at once and a lot of different smells and all- that must mean I'm weak and need to toughen up."

And as you can guess, his meltdowns get pretty violent and sometimes dangerous (for others and himself) (but, well, he's a man from ancient greece how else do you want him to cope /lh)

Well, to sum up my HC in one meme

Actually ty anon im glad I get to talk about this HC lol

[seiwas]

some of my fave bakugo fics in honour of bakuday 🥺 (most, if not all, of these are in ao3! which is why i'm listing them. other fave fics of mine that can be found on tumblr will be reblogged!)

you can find other bakugo fics i love in my tag: #katsu

i like to call myself wound but i will answer to knife - kirketeer enemies to lovers, requited unrequited love, kind of love triangle

surrender (whenever you're ready) - ofmermaids florist reader, canonverse, slowburn

on my way (to you) - ofmermaids 5+1, canonverse, time travel

and you take me the way i am - willowser assistant reader, slice of life, bakugo is bad at feelings

how to set fires - hawnks strangers to lovers, canonverse, food as love language

organic chemistry - kirketeer codependency and unlearning it, mutual pining, college au ish

here is my hand that will not harm you - natsuonii bodyguard au, mild violence, mentions of scars

in the dark of the morning, you promise me the sun - kirketeer character death (not the main characters), grief/mourning, slow burn

dry spell - willowser established relationship, semi-public sex, miscommunication

for auld lang syne - some-kindofgnome canonverse, near-death, drinking

you feel like home (you're like a dream come true) - willowser light angst, kind of exes to lovers?

i do not know if i should hold you or eat you - katsukiz hurt/comfort, soft sex

love to say this to your face: "i love you only" - willowser dragon king bakugo, arranged marriage, a little drunk