At first Netflix said, come write for us. We’ll save your cancelled shows and write about whatever niche story you want. Our algorithm says people will watch it!

Then a few years later they said, regardless of our promises or contract obligations we are cancelling shows after two seasons without telling anyone. Turns out no matter how loved a show is, we get less subscriptions after the second season.

How many subscriptions did we bring you? Netflix won’t say.

So writers started writing two season shows. Just give us two seasons, Netflix. Like you promised.

Then Netflix said, oops sorry! Turns out your show didn’t premiere at #1 and the views in the first day weren’t what we wanted so we’re cancelling your second season.

What were the numbers? How many people watched our show? Netflix doesn’t say.

Then, they did something extra special. They started taking shows and splitting their first season into two halves. Inside Job was not two seasons. It was one season split in half.

Oops! Sorry! The second half of your first season didn’t do as well as the first half, so now your show is cancelled!

Why? How many people? How much money? These companies are making cash hand over fist and they refuse to tell people the truth: people loved your show. Loved it. But some corpo exec wanted an infinite money making machine. Do you know how long shows are in production for before you watch them? Years. Like, 5+, even 10+ years. And Netflix gives it less than a week before they decide whether you’re getting cancelled.

Support #WGA Support #SAGAFTRA

adventure time lore is insane. it starts off just being a goofy kids show that has magic for no reason, but then you learn that all magic users are manic and/or depressed (what betty calls sadness and madness). because it turns out magic is actually a cosmic force beyond mortal comprehension, that itself was learned from cosmic entities that predated the existence of time itself inside a sea of monsters. and "magic" really is just understanding more about the nature of the universe than most people. that, in a way, reality isnt "real" and understanding that allows you to mold it. and thats magic. but that drives you to insanity and/or apathy. and there are beings who hold significant cosmic importance who are more prone to magic. and the reason magic became prevalent on earth is because of a nuclear war a thousand years ago, which released the entity that represents the destruction of all life onto the world. and after a nuclear apocalypse this gave way to a new earth, where magic could thrive. but a lot of the beings we see arent even magical, theyre just mutants from what happened 1000 years ago. and humanity as we know it has been all but wiped out. but everything stays the same because cycles of war and violence continue. and it doesnt matter if its nukes or magic. everything stays the same, but still changes.

i wanna be yours -- 2. pretty visitors

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

»»————-　★　————-««

You feel a little hesitant when you get the email from Kita. Your stomach is flipping with nerves, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this. Would you change your decision? No. But were you allowed to worry and be curious? Absolutely.

You were a small business, you've only had about a thousand orders, and fifty actual makeup gigs. You had roughly seven thousand followers on twitter, and you rarely ever checked your website unless it was to look at commissions. It made you wonder what kind of recommendation Kita was given to actually consider you, or if he was really that desperate. Given the fame of the band, he could probably pay off some really good artist to drop whatever clients they had and dress up the band for that concert. But he didn't, he came to you.

So, you had to make sure you didn't blow it.

While waiting for the time to head out, you organize all the supplies you might need. Multiple shades of foundation and concealer/color corrector, muted and neutral eyeshadows, contour and a bit of blush, some eyeliner for those who were willing. You neatly put all your blenders and brushes into a small bag before placing it in a large makeup case.

Blowing out a sigh of relief, you looked at the clock. You still had three hours before you even had to meet them. Pulling out your phone, you sent a text to Akaashi.

༻✦༺

༻✦༺

You sat at a small table, your bags by your feet as you sipped on your hot chocolate. It melted on your tongue, the creamy marshmallows slipping down your throat. Akaashi sat in front of you, smiling down at his phone as he held his hot chocolate in his other hand.

You checked the time, 2:43.

"Shit," you cursed, sitting up straight. You wiped the hot chocolate from your upper lip as Akaashi looked up.

"What is it?" he frowned, pocketing his phone. His hand tightened on the handle of his mug.

"I need to leave, I have my...interview in fifteen minutes," you reach across the table, holding Akaashi's wrist and giving it a firm squeeze. "I'm really sorry, Kash. I thought we'd leave before 3:30 and I'd get to leave."

He smiled faintly, rubbing his thumb over your hand. "Don't worry about it. I'll get you home."

"Thanks," you beam, picking up your bags as the two of you head out. Your apartment wasn't far away, so you should be able to drop your bags and run out the door really quick.

The drive is relatively silent, both of you having shared how you'd been when you were driving to the mall. He drops you off outside your apartment, and you mutter your thanks again as you run into the building. You pretty much open your door, drop your bags on the couch, grab your keys, and run back down to the parking garage.

Typing in the agreed address into your GPS, you pull out of the lot. From what Kita had told you, you'd be meeting at a rented work office. He said they didn't use it often, but they didn't have anywhere less personal to meet at the moment. Apparently, they usually met at one of their houses, but because you were a stranger, they decided to take the precaution, which you could understand. A well-known band meeting a stranger? You'd do the same.

The office was only ten minutes away, so you pulled in with five minutes to spare. You breathed out a sigh of relief, before slinging your purse over your shoulder and heading into the building. You were told it was office 9b.

Taking a small trip in the elevator, it opened up in hallway "b". Slowly, you walked down the hallway, eyeing the numbers above the left doors.

5...7...

5th Bakugo x Reader Fanfic recs

all fics are angst (can have comfort ending and none)

" kiss it better " by laraleafs

" better off " by awkatsukis

" no title " by bleedingredridinghood

" no title " by aquadenks

" admit it " by lightseoul

" i'm done talkin' " by eijirousbestie

" no title " by bleedingredridinghood

" walk away as the door slams " by grapementos

"no title " by catzula

Convenience - Katsuki Bakugo x Reader - Angst

You just rejected Katsuki Bakugo´s marriage proposition after 3 years of relationship in front of a full restaurant… The reason? You know he doesn´t love you, at least not as much as you love him.

And you know that because he mentioned twice that he hasn´t contemplated marriage on his short-term plans. The first time he mentioned it, you both were having breakfast. He said he didn´t want to get married, not before he got to the Top 3, and right now he were the fourth, but his agent and the press have been pressuring him to get married and start a family because Deku, the Number Three hero already did, which was helping him to get the approval of the citizens. “There´s nothing better than a man of family to protect civilians” they had said. 

You are sure Deku got married because he wanted to. Everyone noticed how in love he was with his wife when he started to cry after seeing Ochako in the beautiful dress you and the girls helped her choose. And you are sure of what Katsuki thinks too… You know him too well to know that the explosive blonde would never waste the opportunity to compete with Deku and show him that he was better than the “fucking nerd”… and as a girlfriend, you were good with it. You admired Katsuki and were proud of him for being so compromised with his dream. You just never thought that he would use you to achieve it and it hurted you… it hurted you so bad that when he kneeled in front you, you started to cry, but not because of happiness, your crying was a product of sadness. 

In other conditions, Katsuki proposing to you would have been the happiest moment of your life and you would have accepted him without any doubt. You really wanted him to be the man next to you at altar and the father of your children, but it seems that to him you are just a ladder to help him escalate the ranking, and you were not going to take it. You had dreams too, you wanted to do things by and for yourself and he didn´t considerate that at all… so you just left the restaurant without saying a word and headed straight to your apartment to cry even harder to your bestfriend… 

“Are you sure you are not overreacting?” your bestfriend asked through the phone “I mean… you´ve been together for 3 years now…” But no, you weren´t overreacting, you heard him yourself, but you didn´t want to remember the second time he mentioned it and his hurtful words. 

It was one week ago, when you finished your shift and headed to his office just like any other day. His secretary had gone home a few minutes before so there weren´t anyone to announce your presence. When you were ready to enter his office you stopped, there were voices coming from it. You recognized Kirishima and your ex-boyfriend´s.

“C´mon, man” Kirishima said “It´s not that bad. The press said that i look ridiculous in swimsuit and haven´t take it so seriously, they say shit all the time about everyone” 

“Those fuckers have been up my ass for four months since that nerd and Ochako got married…” Katsuki groaned “They even dared to say that marriage could help with my image of an asshole”   

Kirishima laughed “Yeah, that could be true, but you can´t force yourself into a marriage, can you?”

“Not with her at least” he murmured. Was he talking about you? You felt the pain in your chest but tried to ignored it, Katsuki would never talk about you like that, wouldn´t he? 

“Of course not! You couldn´t do that to Y/N” Kirishima protested. 

You then knocked the door, panic crawling your skin at his words: He was talking about you… and you didn´t want to know the rest. Your brain was processing. Did you really hear that? No, it was not possible. You have been together 3 years, he must love you. He wouldn´t say something so crude. You were in denial, yeah, he was just chatting with his best friend, it was just and inocent conversation between two legally single men, the type you would have with your best friend too.  

Ten seconds later he let you in. You fixed yourself and put on the best smile you offer. 

“Hi, honey” you said “You ready to go home” When he heard your voice, Katsuki got up from the chair and a grin appeared on his handsome face, matching yours. 

“What´s up, pretty girl?” he walked towards you and gave you a kiss on the lips “I´m ready when you are ready” 

You were now laying on your bed. Remembering. Crying. It was really hard to know that Katsuki Bakugo didn´t love you that much. And you really didn´t get it. You were sure of his feelings for you for a long time now, but all this happened so quickly that it didn´t give you time process it. You weren´t sure why Katsuki would do this to you… 

rotten to the core || bkg k.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 4k

mentions: no pronouns i blv, pro hero bkg, aged-up chars (24+), meet cute(?), slight fear of heights, bkg being a dick but what else is new, ur kinda used as a scapegoat for him, part of the meet fruit collab hosted by @willowser !! check out the other fics posted!! & ty to my friends who helped me brainstorm a title LOL (kissa u will!)

🍎 in which you get stuck in an apple tree... and have to get help from a certain pro-hero to get down 🍎

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have taken your walk today. 

It was just—perfect weather, though. The first wink of sunshine that’d blessed the earth after a week of non stop rain. The air was cool and crisp with the gentle grip of Autumn, vibrant leaves colored in all shades of tangerine, burnt red, and daffodil yellow lining the trees and roads. You had to get out and stretch your legs after wallowing miserably at your window, confined to your little apartment for what felt like forever. 

Your skin basked happily in the soft caress of the sun as you walked down a bricked path through one of the parks in your neighborhood. It was a delight to venture through since it was nice and tranquil—able to leave you to your thoughts as you watched the way light filtered happily through the canopies above you. Occasionally you’d see another pedestrian walking in the distance, but they hardly ever bothered you. 

A sigh left your lips as you stretched your arm out and glanced at the watch on your wrist. You never brought your phone with you when you went on these little outings. You didn’t really need it, after all, and all the notifications you’d get would only serve as a distraction when you were supposed to be clearing your mind and enjoying the bumbling outside environment for once in your technology-infused life. 

Crab Day

okay, so here's a new info post from the top.

the problem: tumblr is extremely extremely in debt. the current model is not profitable. this is why they are trying to turn the site into a shit clone of every other social media site, so they can attract new users and their money.

solution: not a ton of people can afford a long-term subscriptions like ad-free. however, many of us CAN afford $3 to inflict crabs on another unsuspecting user. (and those that can't, can still enjoy crabs everywhere)

the idea: in the grand traditions of mishapocalypses and goncharovs and tumblr users' obsession with [random inconsequential thing] Days, we create a fund drive/holiday on July 29th, dubbed Crab Day. buy your friends crabs. buy your enemies crabs. blaze posts. post memes. change ur icon. whatever. actually put your money where your mouth is and show @staff that there actually IS profit motive to listen to the current users about what we want this site to look like. (and yes, that means accessibility features too. we currently have zero leverage to demand these features. let's change that.)

i don't know if this will actually go anywhere. worst case scenario, a few of us have fun, tumblr gets a small amount of money, and nothing changes. best case though, we actually provide incentive to keep our stupid hellsite unique.

So… when people go to Starbucks, they sometimes use celebrity names, right? I saw this post on Pinterest (one of those older Tumblr screenshots) and this person said their name was Tony Stark and they ran into someone who called themselves Bruce Wayne. So that happens, right?

Okay, so, imagine you're working as a barista at some place and you get so many people telling you their name is a pro hero name. The amount of Dekus you have served this week is off the charts and you had no idea Shoto could shape shift into forty different people. In all honesty, though, it's funny and kinda the highlight of your week.

This one day, someone comes in and they tell you there name is Dynamight. Not only does the shy smile on his face tell you, no, it's not Dynamight, but like literally everything else does too. Okay, normal. You place the order and then take the next person in line. This person is also Dynamight. This has happened before and, to prevent confusion, you dub this person Dynamight 1.

The next customer is a stoic man by the name David. The two of you connect eyes, both inwardly laughing at the funny little encounter that just transpired. David is dubbed nice David, a name you mumble and the stoic man hums with joy, you think.

Anyway, after David is—well, a large, intimating man which wild ash-blond hair and sharp crimson eyes which are enhanced by his dark mask. You blink up at him, shocked for a moment before your eyes flicker to Nice David. You both share a look of shock before evil grins appear in your eyes.

Then Dynamight orders and you take his order professionally, not gushing or fan-girling—and not breaking down into a fit of laughter despite so badly wanting to. He gives you his name, a gruff “Dynamight,“ and you bite your cheek.

You take your sharpie—you've chosen orange for obvious reasons—and your write what some may consider your final words. You're optimistic and consider it funny. “Dynamight 2,“ you mumble and the man snaps his head around with such a bizzare, pissed off look you can't stop the laugh. You tried, which turned it into a snort and the rage in his eyes exploded (heh) at the sound. You hid behind the empty coffee cup, pinching your lips together as laughter prodded at your chest.

“The hell did you just say? You think that shit is funny?!“

You did. Then you realized he probably thought you were making fun of his recent drop from number one hero to number two. He was bitter about that, it was no secret. You cleared your throat, back to looking at Dynamight with your professional facade. “Sorry sir, it's just that,“ you paused, sharing a look with Nice David.

“Spit it out,“ the inpatient hero demanded.

You looked back it him, clearing your throat again as a laugh threatened to ruin everything. You laughed when you here nervous and it didn't help that you always found Dynamight's reactions amusing. But you had to keep it together, for the other, no doubt, embarrassed Dynamights in the room. “Well, I'm sorry to say, but Dynamight and Dynamight 1 have already been taken.“

“What?“

It was so short, so curt, and so blunt you almost laughed again. You saw the other two Dynamights flinch and you wanted to scream. What were the odds the real deal would come into the little cafe the same time as two of his fans? Ah, if you were them you'd be too embarrassed to get your coffee. But, since you weren't them, well, you were there to enjoy the comedy gold.

Back to Dynamight 2. The man still awaited an explanation, far too confused to be annoyed at your lack of action. You looked at the two other Dynamights who's eyes were glued to the floor. You looked at your coworkers, all of which were hiding smiles by showing their backs to the giant pro—busying themselves with work. You looked at Kind Dave, both agreeing this was one of—nay, the BEST thing to ever happen in your lives. You looked at Dynamight 2, a man so lost and so confused, so unsure of his identity.

“If you would like, I can use a different name.“

“Huh?“ That snapped him back to the present. “Hell no, I'm Dynamight!“

“Yes.“

“So use Dynamight!“

“It's already been used—“ “Then swap them!“

“I can't. That would just confuse the team—“ “Then I should be Dynamight 1!“

“That's already been taken.“

“Just change it from Dynamight 2, dammit!“

“How about Dynamight 3?“

Oh if looks could kill. “Change. It,“ he order slowly, lowly, and most definitely sternly.

You coughed into your hand to hide the laugh. “Alright sir, I'll change it.“

You assumed he was too angry to listen to your new name for him which was his fault actually. He could most certainly not blame you for what was to come because it was he who left you unsupervised and you lived off of the pain of others.

There were no other customers so, you had the honor of handing out drinks. It was with great joy you took that job and you, again with great joy, read the name on the cup out loud. “Dynamight.“

You saw the hero twitch. His scowl deepened and you would've laughed to yourself if you weren't waiting for Dynamight to show up. You looked at the small group, raising a brow when no one came. “Guess he left,“ you mumbled.

One of your coworkers mumbled a response. “I'd leave too.“

You both shared a small snicker.

Then the next order came up. “Dynamight one?“ you asked, fully aware that person has also slipped out.

That meant two free coffees for the team.

Next was “Kind David,“ you announced proudly.

The man, the myth, the legend walked up to your counter and, as the name implied, kindly took the drink from you, giving you a kind nod of thanks. You both shared a look of amusement before he left, giving Dynamight 2 a small nod as he passed.

It was time. You held the large black coffee with a hint of cinnamon and a helping of whipped cream in your hand. Dynamight liked whipped cream, who knew? You didn't look at the cup to read the name. No. You looked straight into Dynamight's narrowed eyes. He began approaching the counter, glare hardening in suspicion. You announced him and he bristled with anger, lip lifting up to reveal his pink gums as he sneered down at you. Such a large man.

“Number two!“ you announced loudly, cheerfully, and joyously.

Boy. You had never seen a face curl up like that. He towered over you and he opened his mouth to give you a pice of his mind. But you beat him to it. You leaned forward, mischievous glint in your eye. “Don't worry,“ you whispered, “you'll always be number one here, hero.“

And it was supposed to be a funny jab, you said it with a teasing look. It was supposed to make him snatch the coffee outta your hands with a glare. But, well, you couldn't control his emotions.

He grabbed the coffee, taking it out of your hand normally. He glared, a comparatively calm glare. “Watch yourself, shorty.“

And you let your mouth drop in a dramatic scoff, about to give his back a piece of your mind, then you see it. You freeze, mouth gaping in actual shock. The back of his neck and the tips of his ears were the slightest bit red. You thought you were seeing things. You rubbed your eye. Oh boy, you were not seeing things.

It was supposed to be a funny jab. You said it with a teasing look. But hey, if Dynamight got all embarrassed, that was fine too. “We'll be rooting for you!“ you cheered, again, mildly teasing.

He scoffed but you saw the blush grow on the back of his neck. He sent you one glare over his shoulder and your coy grin grew at the pink dusting his upper cheek. Then he left and the cafe was silent before you and your coworkers burst into a series of obnoxious laughs and giggles. You were not giggling, by the way, you were on the floor DYING and wheezing in an ugly, hilarious sort way.

Dynamight was an interesting guy.

Shrink | P3 - DTF

Avenger! Loki x Therapist! Reader

Despite having taken leave from work, you decided to spend the time away logging transcripts and occasionally doing a couple of online consultations. When you had spoken to Loki, which was a quick exchange considering you weren’t charging by the hour and he was on his way to workout, he said that there had been no news on the bullet meaning you had to stay put. Usually you’d like the respite from work but this time was different, you felt strange especially being around Loki who looked ridiculously sexy heading for the gym. You knew it was wrong, awful even but you couldn’t help but watch him walk away. A perfect sight.

i wanna be yours -- 1. why'd you only ever call me when you're high?

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

»»————-　★　————-««

The smell of caramel and cocoa hung in the air of the small coffee shop as you worked silently. Your laptop sat on the table in front of you while you sewed a small rip in one of your client's commissions. You weren't the biggest seamstress, but you did it pretty well by hand and it went by a lot quicker and smoother for you then doing it with a machine.

You loved coming to the coffee shop to get your work done. The smell of roast and warm pastries soothed you, and the large, iced coffee you always ordered remained one of your favorite drinks. No other place was able to make it the way you liked it like this place did.

Putting down your commission, you took a sip of your coffee, relishing in its taste. You breathed out a sigh and wiped your lipgloss off the straw. You were about to scroll through a few unanswered emails when a man slides into the other half of the booth you occupied.

Blinking, you took in the sight of him, and your eyes met hazel ones. "Um, hello," you said, feeling a spark of uncomfort grow in you. The man gave a small smile, holding a drink of his own.

"Hello. I'm hoping you're Ms. Y/N?"

You ran the possibilities through your mind. He could be a sales marketer, or a fan. Though, it was weird to run into a fan of your rather small business in your rather small town in an even smaller coffee shop. Unnerved, you gave a nod.

"Good, that makes things a lot easier. I don't want to scare you, but I have been looking into your business as an artist and designer. I'm Kita Shinsuke, and I have a job proposition for you."

Swallowing around a lump in your throat, you said, "Go ahead."

He takes a small sip of his drink, before clearing his throat. "I'm sure you've heard of the band INARIZAKI?"

You snorted. "Who hasn't?" you asked jokingly. The band was popular, known for its amazing talent and "hot" members. You hadn't heard much of their music, but they sounded good enough on the radio when you drove. You knew Kuroo was a bit of a fan, but that's all the exposure you had.

Running a small business, you don't have a lot of time to engage in things you may like. You were constantly running yourself ragged trying to ship out the right number of orders with perfect quality to your clients. You couldn't even count how many nights you'd stayed up till the birds began to chirp trying to package and create things. You may have overestimated your abilities to sell your own makeup, clothes, and other cute things along with being an at-home makeup artist. But you wouldn't stop for the world.

Kita agreed with a small chuckle. "Well, I am their manager. Due to unfortunate circumstances our current makeup artist and outfit coordinator left our team. Obviously, we wouldn't want any big faces on our team as we'd like to keep it small for the privacy of our band members. You were recommended to me through a friend, and I was told how to approach you."

You tried to think of your recent clients, and their backgrounds. Off the top of your head, none of them seemed famous enough to know the manager of the INARIZAKI band. Unless it were Bokuto or Kenma, but you're pretty sure they wouldn't talk with them either.

You had to admit, he was piquing your interest.

"So, Ms. Y/N. It isn't anything set in stone yet, but could we arrange something? I'm aware this is very short notice, but we have a small concert three nights from now and I'm afraid I am not well-versed enough to do it myself. Try it out, see if you'd like the gig, and we'll see how it goes.

"It is very sudden," you say, thinking back to all the projects you had at home. But you didn't have any makeup gigs as of recent, just small shipping's and your own personal life. You could do it, probably. "Let me check my calendar."

Kita nodded. "Of course."

You ignored your emails once more, and clicked on your calendar tab. You were right. Any bookings weren't for another week at the least, and most of your current commissions were small things like scarves or sweaters. Well, you had those specialized kneepads to work on for Bokuto's birthday two weeks from now, but you had some free time.

"I could do that, yeah," you say, smiling at him. Kita seemed nice and pretty harmless, and you had heard the name before. You trusted him, even if it was stupid to say.

Kita's small smile grows into something a little hopeful. "Wonderful. I've already emailed you before this, but I hadn't gotten a response. So, you have my contact information. May I have your email?"

You nod, writing it down on a pad of paper for him. He pockets it. "I'm going to set up something with the band as a meeting before the concert. Most likely a dinner tomorrow night, does that sound good?"

"Just send me the details!" you beam, giving him a thumbs up.

He gets up to leave, but you grab onto his sleeve. He turns, cup in hand. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity, really. I'm very excited."

Kita looks down to his shoes for a second, as if in thought, then his hazel eyes snap back up to you. "I should be the one thanking you for accepting so suddenly. You're really saving my job, Y/N."

"I wouldn't say so. You do a lot for the band as manager. If you didn't, you wouldn't have found me."

"I suppose you're right."

Kita leaves after that, and you turn to face the coffee table. Shock begins to register within your body. Did that really just happen? Your fingers shake, and you know you won't be able to get any sewing done for a while.

This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Kita said he'd emailed you before. What if he hadn't been so determined as to hunt you down? Would you have missed this just because you slacked off on checking your emails?

God.

You take out your phone, and open twitter. Talking about your issues on social media always got a laugh out of your friends.

༻✦༺

Bakugou x Oc wallpaper :>> like and reblog

more under the cut

✮ tags ; edging + sub!bakugou + soft dom!gn!reader, restraints, praise kink, no titles used 18+ | ✮ wc ; 1.2k

✮ a/n ; it really would be sub bakguou to get me at least a little bit out of my writing slump lol

"Fuck you," Katsuki can feel his voice starting to lose it's gruff. The words come out hoarse and choked - but in his defense he's miserable right now "Let me cum, fuck."

Your smile is wry as you put your thumb over the slit of his cock, a pathetic amount of pre-cum sliding down his shaft as you stop the motion in your hand completely. He swears at the lack of contact, tugging against his restraints to no avail.

You look delighted by him. Even worse you look hungry. It's the kind of bottomless lust that Katsuki is never confident he can appease. In every context he finds you unselfish and giving. Not like this though. Like this you look like you'd make yourself sick if you tried to satisfy your every desire.

You let your thumb touch against his spent cock gently. He hasn't cum once. Not a single time today. Hours of bringing him to the edge of frustration before stopping completely. You let him have his come down each time. Let him be lulled into a false sense of security before bringing him back.

He wants to cum. He's not asking for fucking much, he just-

You're not budging. You never do with him. There's a breaking point he has to hit before you even think about giving him so much mercy and he knows that. Even then, he hopes that you'll give in sometimes. That once you'll give into his demands.

You bend at the waist and get between his legs to blow on his cock, red and angry and flush - and it twitches like it's ready to spill. He hears you laugh, all bubbly and delightful and grits his teeth.

"Why should I do that?"

"B-because, you fucking," He shakes, shudders as your hand brushes along the inner part of bitten thigh. Marked to hell and back, he's sweating and sticky "Because it—"

"Does it hurt? Any pain?"

He shakes his head, tries to reason with you but you cut him off "So you're just frustrated."

Yes. Obviously. But that's not the answer you're looking for. He shuts himself up, a shuddery breath pushing out of his lungs. Before he knows what's happening, your palm wraps around his cock again, hot velvet over steel. He bites the inside of his cheek as you start to move, hard and fast.

But temporary, a spike of pleasure rupturing him from the inside out before pulling your hand away again.

"Fuck! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck."

You laugh again, placing the same hand on his shoulder. You smooth down the curves of his body. Stopping to squeeze at the fat of his chest, smoothing thumb over nipples and fingers over scar. He's shaking, core tight and tense as he chases a high that keeps disappearing. Maybe he can will himself to cum.

"I don't want to let you cum," You say with amusement, staring at him. Katsuki can feel your eyes on every inch of his face. The way they're tracing his expression, trying to commit his despair to memory. You're all kinds of twisted to him. "I think I'd prefer to leave you here like this. Undo your restraints, maybe make myself cum, and go to sleep. Sounds like more fun."

May or may not be obsessed with my own fantasy/mythos au

The winged guardsman and the "rejuvenating" necromancer

You’re hiding in your Hiding Place — Bakugou Katsuki’s bicep 💪

In your later years at UA, Bakugou Katsuki ends up with an —unusual reputation within class A. He’s got a notoriously famous mean streak, but in 1-A he’s also got a reputation for having a strangely nutty tough-love aura about him — which makes him a decently good person to come run to when things go wrong. Naturally, not anyone’s top pick or anything, but a good one for when you need cry your heart out, or something. And, Bakugou usually knows, which is why he’s not all too surprised when you plow into his midsection in the middle of the hall. He’s headed upstairs from a later dinner because of his internship when he sees you. You’re coming straight from the dormitory showers, a chrous of familiar caterwauling floating out from the boys side. That’s why he took his showers in the morning, if he could help it, because at least Iida didn’t attempt to sing. You look soft and malleable stepping out from the bathroom. An old tye-dye shirt boasting participation of some kind of annual charity run and a pair of sweatpants on. The cuff at you ankles revealing your — now, slightly pink house slippers due to a washing mishap that happened last week in the dorms with a certain Shitty-Hair’ed guy and his red-themed hero costume. Your arms and face are dewy with what he presumes is that moisturizer that all you girls like to lather up in daily — and your hair is still on the verge of wet and stringy, but also frizzy and fuck, you look so very tired and soft right now. Katsuki pauses, red eyes squinting at your face; your nose is pink and your face is dewy, but those aren’t fingerprints left in the wake of moisturizer — it’s old tears that’s streaked over it. He huffs from his nose, nostrils flaring before he takes his hands out of his pockets and flexes his fingers at you where they hang by the side of his hips. And it’s then that he sees your shoulders slacken slightly before you’re suddenly pressed up against his front. All causal and warm — pressed as far into his abdomen as you can get, and he can feel your boobs smush against his chest because you’re very clearly not wearing a bra — and also because he’s earned a reputation for being a decent fucking human and for being nonchalant about that stuff. Bakugou is one of three guys in the dorm you guys deem trustworthy and reasonable enough to do that with. (The other two being Shouji and Todoroki.) And thus, he’s been grappled into many squishy-boob hugs by all you shitty girls. And your cheek is pressed against the hard plain of muscle that is his chest and your arms are wrapped around him — just under his shoulder blades in an action that lifts him and pulls Bakugou in towards you just a little bit. Your fingertips pressing into the muscle on his back and he hopes you don’t feel the way his heart is lub-dubbing inside his chest at the action. And suddenly Bakugou pulls you closer to him. A bicep circling protectively beside your chin, as a big palm comes to rest atop your damp hair. His other arm squeezing around your mid-section like a python and it’s a good thing too because as soon as he puts his arms around you Bakugou can feel that strength seeping from you and it feels like he’s holding you together. And that’s when the sniffles start.

“I’m so pathetic,” you whine. “As soon as you put your arms around me I felt my knees buckle.” And you’re pressed so close Bakugou can feel the way your lips move to form the words right against his chest. And instead of Bakugou saying anything mildly helpful in this situation his says, “I have that effect.” With a slight shrug that brings the top of your head pressing against his jaw, which might just be him engulfing and cradling you completely, but who knows? And Bakugou has no fucking idea why he said that. Or how he managed to say something so flirtatiously cringy with such calm, but all you do is attempt to shake your head against his hold and mumble, “yeah, that makes sense. I’ve seen the other girls around school.” Which you punctuate with a snort, an arm moving from his back to swipe at your face. Bakugou has no idea where this is going — except for you to start “hilariously deflecting” from whatever problem is at hand. “There’s this one girl,” you start with a breath, “she’s always hanging around the hallway between classes. She’s definitely trying to catch you at your locker, but she always just ends up next to mine and Momo’s — saying something random before running off. She’s definitely into you.” You look up at him, still completely weak in his hold and Bakugou scrunches his nose at you. An action that you find looks unnatural and awkward on the sharp features of his face. You frown, hoarsely laughing, “Stop that.” About his facial expression. Bakugou can’t imagine any girls wanting to be with him. Surely he’s a terrible catch at a boyfriend.

He face curls into a snarling scoff, “Nope. Can’t see it. You must be imaging things.” He declares forcefully pressing your head back into the cocoon of him. He settles his head back on top of yours and you’re now squirming like a damn worm. And you find some strength as you manage to peek your face out and blink at him with furrowed brows. And maybe it’s cause you’re in a vulnerable state with a good friend and maybe it’s because you’ve been harboring a little bit of a recent crush on the boy, but you blurt out, “You’re a catch. You know that, right?” And again his stupidly handsome face scrunches into that weird shape again before his red eyes are staring into yours. The hand on your back clutches at your shirt fabric before he says, “You really think that? You’re not just fucking with me?” You snort, wiping a few more stray tears from an entirely different problem than the internal one that the blonde is currently having. “Yeah I really think that, Bakugou.” And there’s a little quip on the side of his mouth that might count as a Bakugou smile, but it’s gone before you can tease him about it. The explosive murder god boy being unsure about his status as attractive is entirely too precious and far too laughable a situation — which is probably why your aggressively smooshed back into his chest and why he starts waddling side to side. For some damn reason the gently rocking from foot-to-foot placebo affects you into crying it all out. Some remnant of being a baby you suppose, but it’s still annoying how Bakugou’s managed to peg it on you so easily. And you’re damn right Bakugou’s doing it on purpose because you very clearly have a problem of your own or you wouldn’t be clutching onto him for dear life like you are right now. And despite this revelation that Kirishima may be right in the fact that’s he’s attractive he’s still whirling at the thought that you think he’s a catch. Because you’re the only girl he’d probably ever want thinking that — but Bakugou tucks that piece of knowledge into the back of his brain when Momo comes out of the showers next. A giant frilly nightgown on as she scampers over — talking and whispering to you gently from within your little hiddie-hole formed by his curled bicep and forearm. And he just huffs, and continues to cocoon you in his embrace rocking back and forth like a damn rocking-chair as you rattle off whatever’s been on your mind.

What’s on his mind is for another day . . .

Katsuki’s hiding in his Hiding Place — your shoulder

Your reputation far proceeds you, usually too generous for your own good. You’ve always been a bit of a subtle star in Katsuki’s eyes. Always lending a helping hand in the dorm kitchen for breakfast — you flip and decorate pancakes like no other. Always updating the dorm rooms official google calendar with dorm events and extracurricular school festivities — it’s not your fault that there’s always 20 student spots already RSVPED for UA events right off the bat. Always congratulating others with those annoying little party-noisemaker things and an excited half jumping-jack as you throw an arm up for a plus ultra! Etc. It’s really just subtle glue that sticks everyone together and that’s something that Katsuki can really appreciate. And that’s something that Katsuki really needs sometimes. Someone to help stick him together — which is how he comes to end up in your dorm room extra early on bad mornings.

And he’ll ever so quietly rasp on your door to which you shuffle and curiously wake, turning over to peer past the curtains that lead to your balcony — dark. Shuffling across the floor in your fuzzy socks as you crack open the door to reveal the murder god at your dorm door. Bakugou dressed in sweats and a tank-top — all black like the sky outside. You wordlessly hum and shuffle to the side to let him in as the boy walks into your room. His iris’s red like the raspberries sitting in the fridge, like the fresh cut tulips that sit in your vase — eyes all that much more awake than you are. Bakugou has definitely established himself as an early morning riser, which is why you’re not all too surprised that he chooses to visit your dorm before the sun rises and way before your alarm. And he’s already reaching for you the second you approach arms length, wrapping his arms around your waist as you sling your arms over his broad shoulders rubbing gentle circles across those broad angel wings of his — slumped over on top of your form as he places his forehead against your shoulder silent heaving sobs dripping against your side. And he knows you feel guilty with the way you can’t say anything — partly because he never speaks about it and partly because he knows your brain isn’t awake enough to come up with those delicately worded inquiries of yours — and it’s all in the way you embrace him with everything you’ve got. Your cheekbone pressing against the top of his head and the way you reassure him when he starts to second guess barging into your room and smothering you with this. When his arms starts to pull away you simply grab the back of his bicep and firmly pull the arm he has wrapped around you flush to your side again, let him pull his chest close to yours again in that vice-like grip he has — and that’s what’s really does it for him. The tears springing forth in double-time now. And you’re so mindful about him. Always looping your arms around his shoulders and avoiding his neck — placing your grounding circles, which you playfully like to switch into little designs when he’s starting to come out of it. Delighted in hearing the watery grunt as he catches on and tells you what it is — warm breath washing over the sleepy fabric hugging your collarbone. Smiley faces, stars, hearts; occasionally words and names. He’s never observant enough to catch onto your ‘it’s okay Bakugou’ that you press into his skin with your hand, but he does instinctively tug you close, so you suppose it’s comforting all the same. And when he’s done crying he places his chin on your shoulder — heads and ears knocking together as you press a chaste platonic kiss to those shoulders that carry the world. And he always sighs and grips onto the natural fat that curves next to your spine a little tighter in those powerful hands of his before pulling away. Staring down at you in the dark grey of early morning with those glimmering red eyes of his. Thick ashy blond lashes lined with tears as he scrubs a hand under his nose baby-ish. “Here,” you say, holding out the box of tissues you keep in his room. Sleepy face wrinkling as you brace for the unholy loud thing that is Bakugou blowing his nose. He’s watching your expression soften back to normal with a quirked brow — like he doesn’t know how loud it is. You think he might. And you know he’s far too wired despite the emotional release — stupid morning people.

“Come to bed,” you motion, already sitting back in the room-temperature covers you hastily threw off to open the door to him minutes ago. And despite you being tired and knowing you don’t mean it like that he’s smirking — eyes rimmed with pink from literally sobbing into your shoulder at this unholy hour — “Not like that!” You chastise as he crawls in beside you, half-heartedly slapping his chest on instinct.

“I know,” he chuckles, saddling in beside you and causing a big enough dip that makes you sit without an inch of space between you. “Whatcha’ wanna watch?” He asks you — you blink, he’s already got your laptop in hand. It’s a routine you started with him the first time he came knocking and he never lets you skimp out on it now. You eyes flash across his strong jaw that’s illuminated by the familiar blue wash of light — he likes the sharks. “Shark cam.” You reply, leaning your head against his shoulder to which he promptly tsks and waggles the finger that’s clicked the video right under your nose. “Nuh-uh-uh,” — gosh you wish he didn’t copy you like that, he was insufferable now, “you’ve gotta wait until we see at least two sharks before you’re allowed to conk out on my shoulder.”

He holds up a peace sign for emphasis — something else you do, except you like to waggle your fingers. Although you suppose that’s probably too nice a gesture for Bakugou. “Alright, alright,” you concede, huffing and shuffling closer nonetheless. The blue light waving off the ocean tank casting a watery background against your walls, “oh what’s that one?” you ask, pointing at the screen. A wave of butterflies in your stomach as he snatched your hand away from your own laptop and ruffles your hair. “That’s a leopard shark, idiot. You named him Lenny last time.” He grunts, a mix of elation and fake-annoyance in his voice. You can’t see, but he’s grinning watching you blink and turn you head. The same lone “caterpillar” shaped squiggly on his tail — last morning it was a double feature with the butterfly gardens. “Oh my bad,” you murmur. “S’ not your fault. You weren’t looking at the screen properly to see his birthmark.” He chides poking your forehead. You nod dumbly, you couldn’t pretend you weren’t caught. “Yeah, yeah,” you yawn, settling against his shoulder again. “Hey,” you pipe up. “Hmm, what?” “There’s a student day at the local aquarium next Saturday — discounted tickets. Maybe we can see a Lenny shark in real life?” Katsuki goes rigid against your cheek. Frantically you lift your head up, “It’s only a suggestion. They’re meant to be turned down, it’s okay, Bakugou.” You’re looking at him, the muscle clenching his jaw fluttering in-and-out before he turns to face you, “Okay, it’s a date then.” He declares — which he’s not actually proposing the same kind of platonic date that you were assuming, but you sigh with relief anyway. “Cool beans.” You smile, settling back against him and waiting for your second shark to appear. “Cool beans,” Bakugou echos, draping an arm around you when you nod off shortly before seeing that second shark you promised him. He’ll let it slide this morning — just this once.

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — DABI x FEM READER

wc — 1.8k

tags — angst but lighthearted moments, reader is way too easy going to be breaking into a psych ward with Dabi, she is stressing that man out, reader has a sleep quirk but it’s not that important, this started as Dabi being jealous of himself as a baby and became something else entirely, title from Sending Postcards From A Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here) by Fall Out Boy 

“Hi, mom,” Dabi says. 

Rei doesn’t say anything in response. She’s asleep. In an effort to respect that, you land light on your feet, shimmying your hips through the window. 

It’s still not good enough for Dabi, who whirls around and hisses, “Quiet!” 

“Jeez, sorry,” you mock whisper back. “It’s not like she’s going to wake up. That’s kind of the whole point of me being here.” 

“Shut up anyway,” he snaps. “Maybe it’s not that you’re loud enough to wake her up. Maybe you’re just annoying. Did you think of that, genius?” 

“Easy, tiger. You’re so easy to rile up.” 

He closes his jaw right as he opens it. You stifle a giggle, knowing that he knows that you know you’ve got him. If he retorts, it’s because you’ve gotten a rise out of him. If he doesn’t say anything, you win. 

An involuntary smile twitches at the corner of his lips, quickly and ruthlessly smothered. 

ding!

. . . suna rintarou. lovers to strangers.

it was a certain thought that rintarou found strange. no matter how much time he put into it, he couldn’t wrap his head around how what were once lovers became strangers, barely acknowledging each other’s presence.

that is, until he experienced it firsthand.

at that time, when he didn’t understand how lovers could just become strangers in a blink of an eye, he was at his happiest with you—he felt as though he was on cloud nine. you two were happy with each other, and with his busy schedule, you two made it work. arguments were nonexistent because both made an honest effort to solve their problems with proper communication. with this in mind, breaking things off was surely off the table, right?

oh, how wrong he was.

falling out of love was scary, and when rintarou told you that he couldn’t see you standing beside him in the future, he swore that his heart was ripped out of his chest when he saw how your elated grin soon dropped into a frown of disbelief.

how could he even forgive himself for being the reason he made you cry? he’s never seen you cry before, and it was a sight burned into his memory.

you didn’t do anything wrong, he reasons. there comes a time when all feelings just shift—fade away to nothing, right?

he’s not even sure of himself anymore.

maybe it was an impulsive thought that he didn’t really mean, but you didn’t stay long enough to find out. 

just . . . acceptance. 

acceptance that he fell out of love while you did not.

it was his idea, wasn’t it? to break things off with you because he fell out of love?

and you, you just chose to respect his decision—moving on with your life because no matter how much you dwell in the past, it wouldn’t help you that much in the near future. it wouldn’t change the fact that he could no longer see you in his future.

and then, as time went by, rintarou understood. he understood that when lovers soon turn into strangers, they barely acknowledge each other’s presence. it’s to protect each other’s inner peace, to heal at their own pace and ways, and to forget memories that would only weigh them down in future relationships—if they choose to love again.

and as you walk past him, not once sparing him a mere glance, he clenches his fists, his voice shaking. "i’m so sorry." he doesn’t know who he’s even addressing his apologies to because there was no one in front of him; you were out of his line of sight by the time he whispers this.

now, you two were strangers, strangers who shared memories with one another.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

“yes, rintaro?”

“hi-jesus, a warning next time would be nice,”

“you called me,” you huff, picking at the now dried mask on your face in the small reflection of the facetime. “what do you want, rin?”

suna is outside, walking rather quickly as the background is blurred around him. he lets out an airy laugh before looking at the screen.

“i’m drunk;” he smirks, continuing to walk but tripping a little, shaking the camera. you raise your eyebrows at him to continue. he sniffs. “and i’m coming over.”

suna rintarou is like heaven and hell for just one person.

there are times when you’re grateful that he’s there, yet there are also times when you regret ever meeting this man in the first place. he can be both helpful and insufferable—and right now, it’s the latter.

“so you basically just asked me out on a date? in our own apartment?”

“wow, thank you for finally realizing it; you’re the last person to know,” he replies with sarcasm.

“and you made me go out and buy the ingredients and beverages for it? i made sure to purchase the worst ones yet; in reality, i was supposed to eat it?”