Latest Posts by milk-tea-and-memories - Page 5

i hate this country more than myself but watching christian pulisic’s sexy ass put his whole soccerussy into trying to score against england’s astronomically better football team is making me feel vaguely patriotic

not pulisic sacrificing his ability to have children for a goal

2023 language goals 💗:

I’m gonna be extremely realistic about my language goals because chemistry takes a huge amount of time in my life 🫣

🤍CHINESE ~

my main goal will be study HSK5 and do a huge review

Improve my speaking

improve my writing

do the HSK4 exam and if I can HSK5

🤍JAPANESE~

Finish N4 review (textbooks)

Start studying N3

improve my speaking & writing

pass N4 mock exams with a nearly perfect score

🤍KOREAN~

Reach and finish A2 level textbooks

improve my speaking & writing

maybe do the TOPIK 1 exam in October 2023

🤍SECRET LANGUAGE~

Improve my writing & speaking

learn as many words & phrases as possible

Finish A1 course & pass the course final exam

Start A2 course

when you know exactly how you want a scene to go but as soon as you sit down to write it you are suddenly staring at some of the worst sentences mankind has ever strung together.

There are certain days where Bakugou just doesn’t get to expend all of the energy he saves up during his work days. So on those days, when he comes home, eyes alert and darting around until they find you, your body is instantly getting ready for—something. It tells you there’s a predator nearby, watching, waiting for your guard to lower so it can pounce.

And he does, he always does. Sets his bag down all slow, eyes never leaving yours, doesn’t even unlace his boots before he starts stalking toward you. And you take off in a dash, a deer sprinting from sharp teeth, quick around the kitchen island as Bakugou pounces.

And it would be terrifyingly scary event, if you weren’t giggling the whole goddamn time.

“Kats! Stop it! Can you please be normal for once?!” You screech in a laugh, trying to keep the joyous sound at bay as you catch your breath in a moments reprieve. You’re facing off against each other, him on one side of the counter huffing, you on the other. He splays his hands over the countertop, eyes narrowing, an evil little grin overtaking his face.

“Just cmere and I’ll stop.” He tells you, a lie that you’re already aware of from believing him countless times before. So you stare at each other for another beat of silence again before he tries to run around the counter to get you, and you’re darting off again into the living room.

He hops over the couch, misses you by a strand of hair as you giggle raucously, sliding into your shared room as you can hear his heavy stomps hot on your heels. You try to close the door but Bakugou is quicker, dives on you before you can brace yourself, flips you over midair so that his body lands on the floor and you’re cushioned between his strong arms and chest.

“Get off!” You scream to him, laughter filling up the space as Bakugou only grunts and peppers your face in kisses.

“No, fuckin’ brat. Running from me ‘nd shit.” He tells you in between wet smacks to your lips and nose and cheeks. You can only lay there and take it, face smushed against his as he squeezes you until you huff out another breathy laugh.

“You like the chase!” You exclaim, trying to wriggle free from his grip, and he lets you. Only because he can see you’re gearing up to run again and he still needs some energy to expend from the slow work day. So he grins, splayed out on the floor, one knee hiked up as he stares at you from under his lashes, readying his body to attack.

“I do,” he admits, lunging at you and missing as you quickly turn the corner. The chase begins, and once again ends in you pinned to the ground covered in too many kisses for you to count. It’s both of you guys’ favorite way to get rid of that extra unburned energy for the day.

touya dabi isn't as smooth as he thinks he is.

the first time you catch him, you're in the parking lot, halfway from your car to the long, concrete flight of stairs outside the apartment building. whenever he would come before, when you could sit on the steps and wait for him to arrive—his lone figure would always manifest across the street.

near a convenience store, one that's been closed for years and yet still remains, on the outside of your little gated community. where exactly he was coming from, you never knew, but he would give a half-ass jog across the road and hop the fence and stand before you on the steps, arms out like he was coming home after a long stint away.

you suppose he was. at least that's how it felt to you.

it's not a coincidence that you spot him there now, leaning against the wall as the sun starts to set. hiding in the growing shadows well enough, but still visible where he stands, where he's always stood. it's only been a few weeks since you've seen him and you wish he was closer so that you could read between his lines, find the truth in them. despite everything, you ache for him, for this; it must be tearing him to bits, even if he won't admit it.

today was your first appointment. it's early, but things are as fine as they're supposed to be, you assume. nothing major to report. healthy. fast heartbeat. a little grape-sized thing.

touya dabi doesn't want you to see him, but you raise a thumbs-up high in the air anyway.

money appears under your mat a week or so after that, fat stacks of ¥5,000 bills.

it makes you angry at first; touya dabi made it very clear that he will have no part in this. with it. that didn't surprise you in the slightest, which is maybe why you avoided him once you found out. locked the doors and the windows and didn't answer any numbers that read unknown caller. at least that way it was your choice not to see him, and not because he was jumping ship.

the whole exchange was ugly. the kind of fight that makes your stomach sour, has you wanting to go back just so you could argue against whatever points he thought he was making. has your eyes watering, stinging with the memory of it all.

but this is unexpected. it. not that you don't have a support system and some savings in the bank, but being a single mother wasn't exactly predicted in your forecast and it's his damn kid, after all. if he wants to fork over all his earnings—however he gets them—to try and mitigate some of his own guilt, well, then, that's his choice.

meanwhile, you're gonna buy a bitchin' crib, one that attaches to the side of your mattress.

you start showing a little after three months, and touya dabi starts creeping closer.

he doesn't wait near the store anymore and instead moves inside the gate. he must watch you when you have your back turned because you don't see him until you're inside, moving to the window as slowly as you can so as not to alert him with your shadow.

not ever in the same spot. all you get is the flash of his coat, trailing his ghost as he turns and high-tails it, or the edge of his boot that he doesn't realize is sticking out so much. sometimes it's just the sound of a clicking lighter, the low burn of a cigarette end. a white-haired figure in the distance, gone with the low breeze.

one night, when you're feeling sick and lonely and the reality starts to bite at your edges, you open the blinds and take your time with mindless things; cleaning the glass in a tight tank-top, shuffling through mail in the clear view, poking at your belly button, trying to imagine what the little thing will look like.

you don't see him that time, but his hurt echoes inside you.

touya dabi can't stand it after the baby shower.

a friend helps lug all your gifts up the stairs, helps to stack them neatly in the office that was emptied when you found out. it's a lot of big things, like some animal-shaped-diaper creature and tons of wipes and a high-chair and an overload of stuffed animals. you go half-way down to thank them, bid them goodnight, and when you return to the room, he's sitting there.

on the floor with his legs out in front of him, facing the presents like they're his next battle. touya dabi is even wearing a pink party hat, one of the paper horns tucked between his lips like a cigarette.

you look at him and he looks at you and he blows it and the silly sound would make you laugh, if your heart wasn't beating so fast in your chest. you're stuck between a lot of emotions, but you've been picturing this moment every night for months, and the one thing you want to make clear to him is:

"if you don't want her—"

"i never said that."

it's the first words he's spoken to you in a long time, and they come out just as angry as the last ones did. a snap, furious, suddenly. in turn, it makes you just as mad.

your face screws up, and so does his. "okay, well you heavily implied it, then, when you insisted she wasn't yours."

touya dabi throws his hands in the air and shakes his head at you, like you're dumb. "how does that make any fucking sense? even if it's not mine, i didn't say—"

"she is yours, asshole—"

"don't start with the names, baby," he's quick to shoot off the floor, even quicker to yank the hat off his head. "you don't wanna fucking go there with me."

you're stuck between a lot of emotions, but the strongest is heartbreak, and to see him yell at you and be so fucking angry is harder than you imagined it would be. you thought you'd be strong enough by now to stand your ground; instead your voice comes out as a whispered plea. "get out."

touya dabi runs a harsh hand over his face, pinpricks of blood tearing into his skin before he crushes the hat in his fist and tosses it to the floor. he opens his mouth like there's something he wants to say, but he doesn't.

he just leaves. just like last time. just like always.

it becomes routine.

the quiet creak of the floorboards is him in the middle of the night, the soft click of the door latch when he closes it as he steps into the office. sometimes he pokes around in the things you begin to unpack, sometimes he leaves his own stuff; the clean stack of bills, a princess doll you've seen advertised on tv, a gel thing you put in the freezer for her to gnaw on and—surprisingly—medical stuff.

kid's cough medicine, a thermometer, pedialyte, diaper rash cream and other skin lotions, that sucky bulb thing for snot.

"i was early."

this is the second conversation you have with him, when you're nearing six months. he doesn't turn around to look at you, just watches the mobile your mom bought as it spins, splashing little fishies onto the wall.

"and small and—sick all the time." touya dabi lets out a bitter little laugh, and the rasp of it makes your heart throb. "probably the shittiest baby ever, so—" his teeth click together hard. "good luck with that."

you shrug, even though he doesn't see it. "we'll figure it out."

"we?" like a cat, his back curls, all his hair standing on end. you never see the flame, but smoke swirls his palm. he still doesn't look at you. "we who? don't tell me you mean that fuck that's over here all the time."

the admission should maybe surprise you, but touya dabi has always been—particular about you. about sharing. you can only imagine how he feels for the baby in your tummy. probably will go nuclear if she ever calls someone else 'dad'.

you can't help but to roll your eyes. "no, we as in her and i." it only relaxes him a little bit and you shuffle on your feet, clearing your throat to make way for all the words you wanted to say to him last time. "you can't—" already, your voice breaks and your eyes sting and his back curls all over again. "you can't just pop into her life every other month because you feel bad, dabi. so, you're either in or—you're out."

that has him peeking over his shoulder at you, eyes shining in the moonlight filtering through the windows. glowing, you could say. "now you're gonna keep me from seeing my kid?"

it's—beyond the most infuriating thing you've ever heard and so you have to laugh, just once, as you wipe your eyes. "oh, so she is yours now?"

he sighs, goes back to watching the mobile, and is quiet for a long time. almost like he's considering it—but you know better. "well, she ain't here yet, so i got time before i have to scram."

and you swore you wouldn't do this, wouldn't beg for him, but the tears won't stop—even though he mutters out a quiet "i can't—just—don't cry, i can't—"—and something swells in your throat and your chest aches and—

"you don't have to be out, touya." you hate how pathetic it sounds, but you wouldn't care if it meant he would stay. "we can figure it out, together. as a—"

"this is my mom's number." touya dabi talks so loud over you, he's practically yelling. eyes on the floor as he holds out a piece of scrap paper, a name scrawled across in his neat handwriting. "if you wanna tell her, then—she'll probably wanna know, or whatever. my sister too, she'll—"

he never finishes and he never looks at you, just shakes his head at the carpet.

dabi visits one last time before she arrives.

you find him where he always is, where he was the first time he accepted what was to come; sitting on the floor of your daughter's room, smiling, almost, at the neon stars plastered to the ceiling. in his hands is a set of photos from one of your ultrasounds—nothing new, just somewhere in the middle of your pregnancy—and he holds it with the very tips of his fingers, like he's afraid of touching it anymore than he has to.

you sit beside him, heavy with a baby and standing on sore, swollen ankles. "you can have it, if you want. i have plenty."

and you'll take plenty more, in the future; he just shrugs, attempting to look indifferent and yet looking anything but. you expect him to to deny you, like he's resisted all things, but his bottom lip pouts out more than he probably means for it to, and he just fingers one edge carefully.

"hope you got a name picked out."

"i do," you lean into him and he lets you, even accepts the tiny kiss you press into his warm shoulder. "do you want to know what it is?"

"no," he sighs and makes a face, though you can't be sure if the annoyance that flashes over him is meant for you, or himself. "best not to."

a set of tears stings your eyes that you know will show in your voice, so you just nod, letting your head fall to his shoulder. it draws out another heavy breath from him, a shaky one that he holds too long, before he finally rests his mouth against your hair. you can feel the flare of his nostrils, the grind of his jaw; if he could cry, you think he would be. he would have, since the beginning.

very quietly, you tell him, "she won't be anything like you," and when he nods and grits his teeth and clears his throat, you capitalize, take advantage of all the affection he'll show by taking one of his hands in your own. "she'll know love and patience and kindness, and i promise i won't ever try to make her into something else."

she won't know fear, not until she has to, not until you can help it. she won't ever have to know what it's like to grow up without a roof over her head, or food in her little belly. you won't let her be a tool, a stand-in, something you throw away in place of someone else.

all that he had to go through. all that's made touya dabi.

she'll never know that hurt.

"yeah," he whispers. "good."

when he moves his head, you move yours, propping your chin up to see him better. touya headbutts you lightly, squeezes your hand in his own, pinches at each of your fingers.

"is there anything...you want her to know about you?"

he doesn't bother to hide his frown now, though he shakes his head at the floor and looks away. it pulls on what little holds him together, tugs on him in ways that shouldn't, that you wish wouldn't, and he stares at the set of photos in his hands and tells you, "i never said that i didn't want her."

If you're not on Twitter following the fake Twitter Blue accounts drama... I'd say i feel bad for you but I'm providing you with the best screenshots here so you don't have to feel left out

jazz is so good. have you guysheard of this shit theres tumpet

making my humidifier and dehumidifier participate in a cruel and pointless war

see writing is funny because sometimes you have to google things like “can the human body survive with every rib broken” and other times you have to google things like “is there an ikea in manhattan???”

mutual pining with bakugou but you two are oblivious as hell at first. like, everyone can see, oh, they can. anybody can tell how he never berates you, he tolerates everything you do, and even give you his utmost attention whenever you speak. not to forget that he wouldn't mind shutting everyone up just so they can listen to what you're saying. so, he can listen to what you're saying. the thing is that you two just mingle very casually, too very naturally, that such things don't occur as a special treatment from him. it flows just as is.

but the simplest things escalate little by little. with time, he doesn't mind a little touch. bakugou likes it, honestly, but he'd rather die than admit it in front of everyone. he lets you but he never says a thing about it. like when you pull onto his hand, telling him to rush to the class. or when the hall to the canteen is busy that you would accidentally brushes your shoulder against his.

with time, too, he gets bolder and comfortable. he'd take your hand first. in a crowd full of people, you wouldn't have to worry you'd lost him because you can feel his touch on you. sometimes it's his hand on your lower back, or on your shoulder, or maybe, on your waist if he's feeling brave. bakugou will always make sure you're not out of his sight.

you two are literally inseparable even after graduation. time can be harsh on you two, but bakugou would always find an excuse to stand in front of your doorstep.

“patch me up, would you?” he'd say on some nights. on some other days, he'd just wait for you to open your door and just feel glad to see your face.

there's no ‘go out with me’ and there is no ‘what is our relationship?’ because words aren't needed to describe how you two could naturally mesh with one another. with time, it's clear that you need him and he probably needs you even more than he would ever admit to your face.

so it doesn't come as a surprise to everyone. when one day you two are professional pro-heros and you two casually mention to your friends—kirishima, mina, sero, kaminari, izuku—that you two are living together.

it supposedly should have not come as a surprise when one day he comes home after a very rough mission. with dried blood on his costume and sticky bandages on his arms. and he rushes to your shared bedroom, rummaging through his wardrobe and chest, looking for something.

it shouldn't surprise you that after watching his life flashed in front of his eyes, the first thing he wants to do is to go home and see you. to be home to you.

it shouldn't be weird that he'd turn around to see your confused face before he asks you to be his companion of life. “please, i can't see myself going another day without you. i may not be the best person around with my shitty temper. i know you deserve more, but despite that i know i would want nothing but to come home to you. after a shitty day, i would want to have you to be there and i promise i'll always be there on your shitty days too. so, would you please marry me?”

he'd rush his words, and it is so unlike him and he says it with the red velvet box he has kept as a secret ever since he gives you the key to this apartment. he places it onto your palm, hoping that you'd take it. wishing to every Gods that you wouldn't mind settling down with him. which you don't.

so, bakugou shouldn't be surprised that his question—or pleas, even, is being answered by your hug. tears brimming on your waterline and a trembling whisper of 'yes'.

after all, it comes as natural as how you two met since the very first day.

hey guys I just remembered this gif

i didn’t know if you’d care if i came back ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

gojo satoru x reader | wc: 1k | L’s FOLKLORE event

“I can’t believe you.”

You’ve heard these words from him before, but not like this. They usually drip like honey from his silver tongue, with faux and teasing disbelief weaved in and around them. 

But right now, they sound cold, like a knife’s blade clinking against a glass table. He sounds hurt, you think, though you’re not sure what that sounds like coming from him. 

“Well, hello to you too, Gojo.”

“Don’t call me that,” he immediately heaves, as if your words burned him like a child touching a hot stove, “what is going on with you?” 

He stands a mere few feet away from you, but something far creakier than the wooden floorboards separates the space between the two of you, making it feel like lightyears rather than a few measly strides. 

His blindfold is off, it’s the first thing you notice. You can see his eyes—they’re just as beautiful as they were when you left, but something about them now appears weary. Slightly bloodshot, sulking into the bags that weigh beneath his eyelids, he looks exhausted. You can only imagine the headache pounding away behind his flesh. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were back?” his question is desperate, almost as if he can’t believe he’s actually asking it to you right now. 

Keep reading

10:16

Fluff, Bakugou x female reader

“Oh so you are fuckin’ alive.”

You attempted your best impression of his red glare. It was less satisfying when the hulking blonde in your doorway didn’t even try to reciprocate it. You forced the aggression to stay on your features, determined to ignore the way his eyes looked more like Aizawa’s than his own, or the way his hair was still filthy and sticking in more directions than usual, or the way he seemed to be out of breath even though you were only on the second floor. You definitely ignored all of that as you stood your ground, refusing to let him move past you.

“Can I come in…please?”

You huffed and walked away, leaving the door open. You made your way to the kitchen and grabbed a glass, letting the cabinet slam closed as you moved to the fridge. You set the water in front of him as he fell into his usual seat at the counter. He drank it all, wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand as he set the cup down so slowly...as if it would shatter.

It was easy to avoid the intensity of his bloodshot eyes. You didn't want to look at him at all, but you couldn't resist the habitual urge to scan his body for injuries. He looked more dirty than injured, covered in rubble dust, dirt, and Todoroki's ash. You noticed a new scar along his shoulder, but no blood marked his form anywhere. You grabbed the glass, turning to refill it.

“Why are you here?” The only sound was the splash of water. You didn't try to fill the silence with anything else. You set the cup in front of him again, pulling your hand from his reach just in time to avoid it.

“I was worried. I came as soon as I landed.”

“Worried? You haven’t talked to me in days.” Something inside twisted at the way his soft drawl didn't match the anger in your tone.

“Yea...because you haven’t picked up your fucking phone in days.”

“What?”

“I kept fuckin’ calling and your shit kept fuckin’ sending me to voicemail.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket, quickly navigating to the call history. “You didn’t call-” Your thumb froze over the blocked voicemails, finding 28 blaringly red notifications. “Oh...shitfuck.” You backed away from the predatory gaze you could sense was locked onto you. Your eyes were still on your phone screen as the chair scraped across the floor. The counter was already pressing against your back. You were out of space and options, so you looked up. Your breath caught at the wild look on his face.

"What's wrong, princess?"

“Okay, so I forgot you said you had to use a burner and my phone was still sort of set to block anything not from a contact…so I-“

“Ya fuckin’ blocked me?” Half a smirk tugged his lips up, but it did nothing to alleviate the intensity of those red eyes.

“I didn’t…not on purpose?”

“That makes it all better, huh?” He was close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from his palms. Had he used his quirk to get here from the airport? “Because it was an accident?” You gasped at the speed of his movements. You went rigid in surprise for less than a moment. It was too easy to relax against his embrace. He buried his head against your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist so tightly it nearly hurt. “Do you know how hard it was to not fuckin' be here?" His voice got softer with each nuzzle against your skin. "How hard you made it to focus on anything else?" You ran your fingers through his grimy hair. "Thought I lost you, idiot.”

“Hmm, so I’m not a princess anymore.” The huff he gave tickled.

“Princess idiot.”

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Eros

bakugou having a bad day at work and coming home annoyed, tense and snappy. you know he’s mad, you feel it when he comes through the door. not only in the air but the way he stomps on the ground and the loud clash when he drops his bag. so for these first few seconds you have a chance to prepare yourself for what you’re about to witness.

you see the back of his fluffy blonde head as he slumps into your living room sofa and lets out the loudest huff. so you step over and sit in the arm chair diagonally opposite to him.

“hey,”

“hi,” he spits, staring at the blank screen of the tv. his arms on the arm rest, his head resting in his palm. every few seconds his jaw clenches then he lets it go.

“so do you wanna talk about it?” you prod lightly, voice light like usual so he knows you’re not about to judge him.

he tuts, frowning and still not looking at you, “no.”

“you sure?”

“yes i’m fuckin’ sure.”

he knows he’s being disrespectful and stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth. the silence is thick between yoi so he robotically turns to face you with a hard glare in defence. but it melts upon seeing your face of indifference. fuck, he needs to do better.

when you lock eyes, your voice is steady but cold, “watch who you’re talking to.”

bakugou’s whole demeanour weakens, his body tensing with the heat of your words. suddenly what happened at work doesn’t matter at all now, not when you’re just as annoyed at him.

another silence hovers over the room so you get up to make your way to your bedroom. “you can leave or stay. i don’t care.”

bakugou grabs your hand before you’re too far, mumbling a quiet, “let’s cuddle.”

you blink at him like he’s dumb, “apologise. decide whether your gonna forget about your issue or talk about it.”

he doesn’t let go of you as he makes the decision on the spot, his hand on your arm sliding down to link your fingers together.

“i’m a piece of shit for talkin’ to you like that. i’m sorry.” you nod, still waiting for the next part, “i’m gonna forget and maybe talk about it later.” he flicks his eyes up to you, not forgetting how harsh your tone was, “if you wanna hear it.”

you’re a fool for your boyfriend, especially with how his eyes turn doe-like when you look down at him. red rubies asking for your forgiveness and a cuddle. he even slides a palm between your legs to rest on your inner thigh, ready to pull you on top of him. you don’t want to say no so you don’t.

“of course, i’ll listen to you. you’re such a bitch when you’re grumpy,” playfulness tinges your words, a slow smile slipping through to your cheeks. bakugou matches your smile, dragging you onto his lap for a cuddle.

you stuff your face in his neck for an inhale of his sweetness and your arms wrap around his strong body. he does the same to you, thumb rubbing your bare hip.

“thought that was one of your favourite things about me,” he drawls sarcastically and you giggle. bakugou sighs mentally at how he started the night with you. he could have came in, been honest about what he felt and had this earlier.

“that and how when i’m annoyed at you, you still have the confidence to ask for a cuddle.”

“confidence well deserved ‘cause look at us now,” he laughs but stops when you lift your head up to glare at him.

“i’ll leave right now,” you threaten.

“no, you’re not,” he says, his arms tightening around you with a peck to your forehead.

I have three modes of reading

Dont read

Read a 500 page book in a day

Read only fanfiction until my eyeballs drop out of my skull from exhaustion

book quotes that i will never recover from

"he is half of my soul, as the poets say. " - song of achilles

"write me a letter telling me how to live the rest of my life without you." - how to make friends with the dark

"they were my birthday presents." - shatter me

"she had realized that she had forgotten the precise blue of his eyes and the depth of his laugh." - clockwork princess

"my name is sam cortland... and i will not be afraid." - assassin's blade

"you chose me four years ago. would you choose me still?" - these violent delights

"we were all supposed to make it." - crooked kingdom

"i remember everything." - the invisible life of addie larue

"come home and shout at me. come home and fight with me. come home and break my heart, if you must. just come home." - cruel prince

"i wasted all those yesterdays and am completely out of tomorrows." - they both die at the end

"you hated the idea of me." - the final gambit

"bob says hello." - house of hades

"abuse can feel like love. starving people will eat anything." - nightfall

"i missed you only with an ocean between us. but if death was separating us... i would find you." - queen of shadows

"i loved him. i love him. as best i could." - we were liars

"i'm the villain, even in my own story. but you were supposed to play a different role." - finale

"i will find you again in the next world—the next life. and we will have that time. i promise." - a court of wings and ruin

"i spent half of my time loving her and the other half hiding how much i loved her." - the seven husbands of evelyn hugo

Thinking about newboyfriend!bakugou who doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants.

You’re standing at the counter chopping up veggies for dinner, and you feel him brush up behind you, leaning his forehead on your shoulder, hands softly resting on the tops of your hips.

“Making your favorite.” You whisper.

“Mm.”

Not satisfied by his response, you turn your head to look at where he rests against you. His eyes are shut and crinkled in the corners. You press a lingering kiss to his cheek, which feels much too hot under your lips.

“Are you okay? You feel hot.”

“M’fine.”

Putting the knife down, you’ve turned into him now, and you can tell he doesn’t want to look at you by the way he buries his face into your neck, “Katsuki, what’s wrong?”

“I just-“ His voice is higher than normal, muffled by your skin, “You look, really good, and I- I don’t want you to cook. Anymore.”

“…You don’t want dinner?”

“No, I fuckin’-“ He pushes away from you, eyes wild, cheeks red, and you’re worried you’ve upset him- misunderstood him-

“Come to fuckin’ bed with me.”

Oh.

most nights, katsuki will sit under the covers with his debriefing file and a blank, uninterested stare—flipping through the documents as you prance around the room getting ready for bed.

he’s seen you do this an endless amount of times, and has even been dragged into the commotion on numerous occasions—ending the night with a green face mask and a faux frown.

still, he doesn’t really get it.

of course, brushing your teeth is a given, and he won’t fuss about you washing your face—but the line has to be drawn somewhere, right?

pillow mist—the latest villain.

“babe, seriously?” he coughs, sitting up a bit as he sticks his tongue out and holds a hand over his throat. maybe, you went a little trigger happy with the black chamomile, but he’s being dramatic. “it’s in my fuckin’ mouth!”

“there’s an easy fix for that, y’know,” you smile, running your thumb and index finger across your lips in a zipping motion.

his eyes grow wide—not out of anger, or shock, but amusement. your smug comments are never ending and supremely annoying, but he fucking loves them—they’re cute. you’re cute.

he watches, tonguing at his cheek as you plop down in front of the large floor length mirror like a heathen—skincare splayed out in front of you.

you would do this in the bathroom, but you’ve been told not to by your boyfriend—who’s just looking to maximize his precious time with you, even if it means choking back the polluted air.

though he’d still argue that you are the only one who should be choking on anything while in the bedroom—not him.

“katsuki, stop that,” you laugh, catching his gaze through the reflection as your fingers run along your cheeks, working in your moisturizer.

“huh?”

stop what? existing? he’s just sitting there, hasn’t moved a muscle or opened his mouth in almost two whole minutes, and you’re telling him to stop? what the hell do you want from—

“you’re staring.”

oh, well—you’re wearing his shirt, the black long sleeve that hangs off your shoulder just a tad and drowns your hands in excess fabric. he gave you this shirt after your first night together, and while it’s no more than a piece of cotton—it’s special.

it reminds him of that morning, when you padded into the kitchen and asked what he was doing. he was making breakfast, obviously, but you insisted he come back to bed.

you were annoying, selfish—he had no more than an hour before he had to be at the agency, and you were asking him to skip the most important meal of the day to cuddle with you. unbelievable.

nevertheless, it was then that katsuki knew he was in love—with you passed out on his chest, in his shirt, just ten minutes before he had to leave.

so yes, he’s staring.

“am not,” he scoffs, keeping his eyes glued to you as you dab yet another cream onto your fingers. what the hell are you concocting over there? “i’m makin’ sure you don’t kill us with all that shit.”

if anyone were going to kill us—it would be you. the sentence pops into your head, but dies before it ever has a shot at tumbling out of your mouth.

maybe, that would’ve been something you said to the katsuki you first met years ago—but never to the one sitting in your bed right now. if you told the public what you did on that morning, you’re almost certain that half the population would be wondering how you lived to tell the tale—because no way in hell would the dynamight let that slide, right? everyone and their mother knows that his job as a pro hero is incredibly important to him.

but, not once in your relationship have you ever felt an ounce of unease, anxiety, anything, that’d make you doubt your safety for a single second—because you are more important to katsuki.

“you still with me?” he interrupts your selfish train of thought, pushing himself off the headboard to get a better look at your face. you’re a little zoned out. “fuckin’ fumes are gettin’ to you, huh?”

“i’m fine kats,” you grin, stepping back into reality as you screw the lid back onto your eye cream. you turn, sharing your smile with him.

“c’mere,” he rasps, leaning back onto his freshly scented pillow and discarding his papers onto the nightstand.

“or what?” you challenge, looking to rile him up a little before you inevitably go over there.

“you wanna find out?” he smirks, mind flooding with a tidal wave of lewd thoughts that he’s most definitely going to share with you later.

the voice in your mind screams yes, and you rise to your feet—shuffling over there in your slippers a little too eagerly, you’re sure.

you climb atop the covers and sit beside him—milliseconds away from opening your mouth to say something that would’ve gotten you into even more trouble—but he pulls you down for a kiss.

maybe he knew what was coming and saved you, or maybe this is you finding out. reason aside—he’s kissing you. slowly, his mouth moves against yours, and subtly, he tugs on the collar of your shirt—pulling you impossibly close.

“katsuki,” you sigh, running a thumb over his cheek as you lean your forehead against his. he’s pretty—strong, sharp features contrasting the softness behind his eyes. you know this look, it’s the same one he gave you that morning. gosh, how did you get so damn—

“hey,” he barks, grinning wide as he wraps a hand around your wrist. “you starin’ at me?”

Nothing just angry sex w/ Bakugou

Not even really angry sex, more like jealous sex cuz that got me- •/////•

GODD, YES. Gonna pass out, this idea is just ... yum. sorry if this isn't coherent/good, I wrote this with very little sleep

I imagine Bakugou is actually quite secure in his relationships, he knows you have eyes for no one but him so it doesn't bother him so much.

But what if this was before you guys got together?

He hadn't made his feelings clear to you, yet, and when he sees that sleazy guy from the floor below in the agency chatting you up at the coffee machine. It has his stomach twisting uncomfortably, his heart dropping to his stomach and he's actually jealous. Jealous of the way you smile at the guy so easily, laugh along with his jokes and he wonders why you're not like that with him.

Bakugou knows it probably looks sketchy when he's cornering you after hours of work, everyone but the security guard who works on the ground floor is gone. He could see the surprised look on your face when he manages to get you pressed against the corridor wall, both his hands pressed on the wall on either side of your head to really cage you in. Didn't even give you the chance to speak, all he could think about is the way you were smiling earlier.

His lips are on yours, and he fully expects you to slap him and push him away but you don't, which only confuses him more. You moan into the kiss and it's all the permission he needs to hoist you up to his height, keeping your back to the wall with your legs tightly around his waist. It escalates pretty quickly, his feelings spilling freely whilst yours finally bubble over the edge.

Bakugou would've never known you felt the same way about him, that you were pining for the grumpy boss. It has him full of excitement but that lingering caress of jealousy has him being a little more forceful in his kisses. It's as if he's trying to imprint himself on you, to make sure you never forget the way his lips feel on yours. Or how his hands fit perfectly on your thighs when he's finally laying you down across his desk in his office after having walked you there.

He wants you to know how expertly he can take care of you, so his hands move precisely yet his touch is still soft when he settles between your thighs finally. It's the only real calm before the storm, his lips murmuring praises against your cheek whilst he works you open for him on his fingers.

The sex itself does start out softer, he's still overwhelmed with the fact that he really has you underneath him finally. Your moans are sweeter than anything he's ever known, your hands soft against his shoulders when he hunches over you to lay delicate kisses along your neck, up along your jaw until he's next to your ear so you can hear the low groan leaving his lips when you squeeze around him.

That's until he again is hit with the remembrance of that fucking idiot at the coffee machine, he had almost forgotten about the incident until you smiled up at him and he's fucking into you a little harder, subconsciously squeezing his hands at your hips a little firmer to make sure you don't escape from his grasp. Manhandling you into a different position, has you bent over his desk on your tiptoes and a hand splayed across your lower back. His eyes locked onto the place where the two of you are joined, and it has him nearly snarling like some wild dog.

"Hah, knew you wanted me, sweetheart." He comments, a pretty moan leaving his mouth when you flutter around him at the sound of his voice. "I knew you'd never go for that fucker from accounting."

You can't even really reply or think of just what the fuck he might mean when he's pushing his hips forward more, towering over you to really push his cock deeper into you at an angle that has you moaning sloppily against the mahogany desk. "Oh," you moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head when his hand joins in between your thighs to pinch and swirl against your clit. "Oh fuck, 'm gonna—"

Bakugou fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until you're writhing beneath him. Your hips bucking back into him and he has to use both his hands on your waist to keep you pinned beneath him whilst he drives his cock into you until he's spilling deep inside of you. He knows he shouldn't have, but it was like some primal desire. A carnal need to mark you as his, and what better way than filling that pretty pussy with his cum?

No man will ever make you feel that full again.

bakugo fluff to heal the soul!

bakugo katsuki was fuming in his seat.

it’s not necessarily strange for him to be doing so, but normally it was due to the antics of kirishima and kaminari that gets him all riled up. this time though? it was you.

it all started the moment you stepped foot into the classroom because as soon as mina noticed you, she was already shouting her heart out at this hour of the morning (not that the time mattered much to bakugo because he wanted her to shut up at all times of the day).

but it was what she said that ticked him off even more.

“y/n! you’ve got an admirer!”

bakugo katsuki had to watch in slow-fucking-motion how your face lit up in a (beautiful) smile that almost had his anger raging as wildly as his explosions because it wasn’t him that was making you smile like that.

it wasn’t his love letter that had you giggling and flustered, it wasn’t his bouquet of flowers that you were fawning over and it wasn’t his box of sweets that you were admiring. only he had the right to make you feel like that. 

bakugo is brought out of his misery with the familiar voice of a certain red-haired. “oi! thought you’d never confess to y/n, finally grew a pair?” kirishima asked, bending down to match the blond’s seated position. 

bakugo scowls harder as he gruffly murmured, “that wasn’t me.”

“oh man! really?” kirishima looked back at your desk, noticing the gentle way that you were handling the gifts, setting them down on the floor beside you. “i guess y/n is popular, better shoot your shot before it’s too late.”

small explosions spark from bakugo’s palms as he screams, “i know, dumbass!” 

for the rest of school he had to witness the dazed, delicate expression you wore, paired with a gentle smile that never seemed to fade from your lips the whole day. he even found you fiddling with the card you received, reading it over for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. 

bakugo could write a better one. 

and if that wasn’t enough, he had to watch the way you held the gifts closely in your arms, cradled protectively to your chest as you tried to preserve their sacredness, hearing about how you were going to ‘put the flowers on my windowsill. they’ll be so pretty!’. 

he was going to blast those stupid floras into pieces, not understanding why you were feeling so special over some stupid extra’s ‘chivalrous’ actions because you deserved far better.

and you better fucking believe that he could make you smile wider than anyone else 

that’s what he did, knocking on your door ferociously the next day, bakugo katsuki was holding an even bigger bouquet of arranged flowers, far more grand than the small one you received yesterday, as well as some of your favourite pastries from the local bakery that you always took him to. and as a card? well, it was him. did you need any more? 

was his heart racing because of nerves or because of spite? he didn’t know.

“coming!” your voice comes from the other side of the door and sure enough, the telltale sign of a door unlocking reaches bakugo’s ears. you greet him with a smile, “oh, hey! bakugo- whoa, that is a big bouquet of flowers.”

“‘s for you,” he grumbles, unable to look away from your expression, gauging for a reaction. you’re silent for a moment before pointing at yourself. 

a weak ‘me?’ slips past your mouth.

“who else, dumbass? you’re the only one worthy of fuckin’ flowers.”

he dumps them in your arms and you gape at him. “wait- was it you that gave me-”

“nope, but you best believe i outdid them.”

you laugh, a sound that bakugo has grown to cherish over the time you’ve spent together. with a softer, adoring look in your eyes, bakugo thinks he’s reached the peak of life as you meet his gaze. “thank you, bakugo,” you say quietly but there’s something in your voice that tells him that you’re trying to keep your giddiness on the low. he can tell in the way that you marvel at the flowers with a wondrous expression, holding them to your heart.

he scoffs, not in a dismissive way, but in a manner of content.

“oi, i’m takin’ you out tomorrow night, on a date.” bakugo tells you and your chest flutters in the way that it always does when you’re around him. “you’re always pretty so i don’t need to tell you this, but dress nice.”

you beam at him and his heart stutters, “‘kay, only for you though.”

“don’t say shit like that!” the blush on bakugo’s face tells you enough as he stomps away.

he’s happy when you send him a picture of his flowers that sit pretty on your windowsill.

[3:09AM]

pairing | bakugo katsuki / reader

words | 555

warnings | mentions of blood, death, and nightmares.

—

“Katsuki! Just hold on, help is coming!” you let out desperately. You cradled his head in your lap as you held his face in your hands.

He slowly raised his arm, reaching out for you. You grabbed on with fervor and clasped it against your cheek.. You watched as he strained to take in a breath.

Blood continued to escape from his wound, it coated his clothes and your hands. “I love you,” he heaved. “I’ll love you forever.”

As the light slowly left his eyes you felt despair, “No, don’t leave me! Katsuki, please!” you begged with tears streaming down your face.

You awoke with a start, immediately checking on the sleeping male next to you, assuring yourself that he wasn’t hurt. You watched his chest move up and down, feeling relief as you saw him safe and sound. You rustled the blankets around, protectively wrapping yourself up as you tried to wease your way closer to Katsuki, as if becoming closer was possible. The space between your bodies was almost nonexistent.

You closed your eyes, in an attempt to fall back asleep, but no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t calm the rapid beating of your heart. As if he could feel your distress and the shuddering of your body against his, Bakugo stirs in his sleep, “what the hell happened to you?” his voice laced with sleep.

You look up from his chest, his presence already easing the tension spread in your body. “It’s nothing, just go back to sleep babe.” You didn’t want to make him worry so late in the night, or waste his precious time to sleep.

His eyebrow raises in disbelief, “you expect me to believe that while you’re fuckin’ trembling in my arms? Nice try dumbass.” he grunts.

You let out a soft sigh before burying your face in his chest, “I had a nightmare.” The consistent thumping of his chest alleviates the troublesome thoughts that plagued your mind. It was beating loudly, unlike in the nightmare.

He cards his fingers through your hair, “stop being such a whore.” he mumbles while pulling you closer.

“Huh?” you pull your head away to give him a stare of bewilderment, wondering what he means, “Katsuki, what the hell?” You can’t help but giggle at his strange accusation.

“You’re letting your dreams fuck you over.” he mumbles. “I’m supposed to be the one that fucks you. The only one.” An obnoxious laugh leaves your lips and he rolls his eyes with a slight smile appearing on his face. It’s silent for a while, so you take it as a sign and close your eyes in hopes of falling back to sleep until his voice disrupts the quietness. “Do you wanna talk about it or something?” his voice is deep, you can feel the vibrations rumble through his body.

You snuggle closer to his chest and let out a sigh in content, “No, I’m alright. You being here is enough to make me feel better.”

“Damn right I am.” he muses. His fingers don’t cease their movement through your hair.

You place a tender kiss on his jaw, “good night Katsuki.” He hums, and places a kiss on your forehead in reply. Finally, you close your eyes and allow yourself to succumb to sleep in the comfort of his arms.

some eels only live a few years but plenty live full human lifespans. The oldest one known is about 155 years. Eels don't develop sex organs till the last year of their life. All eels are believed to come from the sargasso sea where eels leave at the start of their lives and return to towards the end. The Sargasso seas is the only sea surrounded completely by water. The Sargasso seas on its own is a deeply interesting existence and deserves a much more detailed description than I can give. All eels includes the freshwater eels, so for at least part of all freshwater eels' lives they are believed to live in seawater for at least the length of their journey to get from the Sargasso sea towards their normal living environments. Their migration patterns and reproduction conditions are still not very well mapped. also electric eels aren't eels they're knifefish and do not share the same mysteries as eels have built into their very being.

That’s really cool, I didn’t know eels were so fascinating. I decided to look more into eels because I had some time on my hands out found this ted Ed video about the mystery of how they mate and I feel like anyone who is interested in your facts would also find this very interesting too :)