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[cascade05]

Is anyone else obsessed with poetic compliments?

Like… not just calling someone pretty but…

“His hair was like snow and his skin like frost. He looked like a creature made of porcelain moonlight with eyes like glistening stars. Words could not describe how ethereal he looked when basking in the moon’s gentle glow,” she spoke softly.

“And I remember him that way. A man made of stardust, a man who looked to be the very moon itself...”

“I find him in the moon because that was always what he was to me. The moon, soft and gentle. He was brighter than anyone else, as if he belonged in the heavens not on earth as a man, but in the sky as a celestial body.”

“He is the moon in the sense that his pure and beautiful…”

She swallowed thickly, voice soft and tender as she spoke again. “And he is the moon in the sense that he is far out of my reach,” she whispered, a single tear falling from her eye.

And not just saying you like someone’s strength or that you think they’re handsome but…

“You say that as if you don’t look like a fallen star.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She smiled softly, kissing the tip of his perfect nose as her hands moved down his neck then to his shoulders.

“Dark,” she whispered, kissing his jaw, “perfect,” she kissed his neck, “and pure,” she kissed his throat softly.

“It’s as if the sky fell onto earth,” she whispered, her lips ghosting along his throat as her hands skipped over his wounded chest and gently moved against his stomach.

“A man made of steel and rock, my own meteor,” she breathed against him, kissing his collarbone.

“My own piece of heaven.”

Cause shit like that just makes me 🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧 frreeal

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Sometimes I long to go home even when I'm sitting in my living room surrounded by family.

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totally super random thought that just came to me for no reason but Sukuna totally has four arms and three legs

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Guys, guys I’m wheezing

So i wuz bored and my sister is obsessed with ai chat so I was like “Hey Imma try that shiz” and I did and I made a Bakugo ai and—

I made him too realistic

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None of you probably care but I just modded the shit outta Skyrim

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Book Girl

Heads up: Language, suggestive but definitely not descriptive, also Bakugo Katsuki (he comes with a warning), and unedited—super unedited

Kay, so, hear me out… Bakugo Katsuki and an author reader. Yes, ooh, ahh, I know I know. For those of you, and I am sure there are many, who have no idea what I mean, lemme explain:

Bakugo with a reader who asks him the strangest, borderline worrisome question about his work. “What’s it feel like to get stabbed?” “Have you ever gotten shot? With a gun? Explain it to me. How did it feel?” Sometimes he thinks you’re a little psycho but it’s oddly therapeutic for him to explain the worst parts of his job and not care about being judged so he don’t mind none.

Bakugo with a reader who patches up his wounds like a pro and mumble “this would be perfect in chapter twelve.” And he’s just staring at her like “ma’m I’m dying plz don’t immortalize this in literature.”

Most importantly (the thought that had me on this tangent), Bakugo Katsuki with his cute little writer baby who tests things on him. It’s never easy to deal with things either. It’s not, like, fighting related things. You don’t go up to him and ask him if you could put him in arm-bar or ask him if he could put you in an arm-bar (Actually you did ask him to do that cause you wanted to know how to get out of one but—)

She does this… thing where she goes up to him and whispers the nastiest shit in his ear, like, you know, innocent book girl shit. Ya’ll know what I mean. Book girls are fucking wild and they read the sauciest shit. So she whispers some knee numbing curse and Bakugo freezes like a little schoolboy who just found out what puberty hormones are and she has the audacity to take a step back, examine him like he’s a fucking lab rat or some shit, then ask him if that made his heart flutter. Like, bitch it made something flutter, the hell did you think saying that would do? Does he answer? The first few times it happened, he couldn’t. The next few times he tried to deny it but mumbled and slurred his words like a drunk. When he wasn’t caught horribly off guard, he started just throwing her over his shoulder and showing her what it did to him. (It really helped her with that one scene—)

But that’s not the worst of it. No. No no no. You see, before Bakugo, she had never been in a relationship before. She had never been in love before and she most certainly had never done anything physical with someone else before. He was her first everything. So she has trouble writing particularly steamy scenes, at least when it comes to describing everything and it has to be perfect. Well, that’s what a boyfriend’s for, right?

So, there are times in Bakugo’s life where his writer girlfriend just decides to make out with him. That’s a normal thing to do, they’re together, but she doesn’t just kiss him. Remember, book girl shit, girl goes fucking—well, Bakugo doesn’t know what but it’s ridiculous.

Kay, first time it happens: She comes up to him all casually and cute-like and asks if she can try something. Blissfully unaware Bakugo raises a brow but lets her and she takes his breath away with a kiss that’s all passion and it’s hot—he’s hot. He’s melting, actually, and she takes it further and put her hands in exactly the right places and just when he’s getting ready to go all the way with it, she pulls back. Bakugo’s never felt whiplash quite so jarring but there she was asking him how it felt because she wants to write the scene from a man’s perspective. She asking him all these questions and bro’s on a different planet right now, he can’t answer, kay. Like, give him a second to breathe cause he can’t find the air, ya know. And it happens, well not all the time but enough for the poor man to think she just isn’t in to him like he’s in to her. If she was, she would’ve been frustrated too, right? But she wasn’t and there he was, sitting alone like a fool while she ran off to go write it all down before she forgot.

But, well, book girls, right? Those freaky shits know how to please a guy so you can bet your bottom dollar that she made it up to him. Thoroughly :)

Or, alternatively, writer gf who doesn’t write steamy shit and just does all of this to fuck with him cause his reactions are *chief’s kiss*

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I must be suuuuuuper super hot or somthn cause these bots keep hitting up my inbox like a bunch of horny teenagers

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Convenience

This is kinda suggestive so watch yo self, unless you don’t wanna...

Thinking about Bakugo and his pretty secretary. She wears very business chic clothes, mature and sexy as oppose to cute.

Suit pants that hug her--not enough to be innapropreate but enough to make it obvious she works out. Suit shirts that dip into her chest a little bit, not enough to be immoddest but just enough to drive Bakugo wild. Stilletoes. Just plain black stilletoes, nothing else. She does have a pair of black flats tucked under desk and a pair of pristine black sneakers, just in case. When she wears pencil skirts, Bakugo is just about sent to his knees. And if the way the freshly pressed fabric hugs her hips wasn't enough, she dares to come into the office with a pencil skirt that has a zipper going straight down her ass.

It's the convenience of it that really gets him. How easy it would be to just pull the top zipper all the way down, exposing her lacy black underwear to him. (He only knows because she bent down that one time and he saw it ON ACCIDENT! When he thought about it that night it wasn’t really on accident tho—)

It's the convenience, he tells himself as he watches her strut out of his office. She's beautiful and just so conveniently always apart of his day, that's the only reason he can't stop thinking about her. It's not because she doesn't put up with his shit and it's not because she's constantly defending him when sponsors say something sour about him. It's definitely not the worried glances she gives him when he comes back from patrol a little more banged up than usual—he'd like to bang her a little more than usual when she wears that stupid skirt—

It's convenience, he thinks. He knows her and she knows him. Its convenience, he convinces himself. That's all.

Definitely not whatever the hell his heart keeps telling him.

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I’m not dead, just uninspired, and distracted and sad…

But like, boss Bakugo—

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I am crying actual fucking tears don’t talk to me

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Gangster MHA x reader except reader is the mafia boss and the rest of the cast are cutesy lil’ normies

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Guys Deserve Flowers Too

Saw this post and it got me thinking…

Imagine see a handful of flowers that remind you of Katsuki. Imagine what they are but I was thinking of, well, Imma just collage it cause I don’t know how familiar with flowers y’all are…

On second thought, the picture is giant so I’ll put it…. so where else, maybe…

Anyway, you see these flowers and the kinda look like explosions and the flower lady tells you they (Dahlias) are stubborn flowers and they’re tough to kill so it literally is Bakugo Katsuki/Pro Hero Dynamight and now you HAVE to get them. So you do and you get a few others you think will look good.

Carnations last a long time when they’re cut, not withering as fast as other flowers.

Lantanas are cute little bundles of petals and the orange and red ones are so purty…

Course, you want some green in the bright conglomeration of bursting colors so you go with some leather leaf fern cause they’re big and refreshing.

You leave the shop with two bags of flowers and you’re beaming about them. The excitement kinda plateaus when you get home and realize you don’t have a vase big enough. You’re shocked by that fact because Katsuki’s bough GIANT bouquets for you before. You look everywhere and cannot find a vase.

Then you see one of the decorative jar things—ya know what I mean, right? It was black clay and you never understood why people would get something like that and just eat it sit unused. It just collected dust on a shelf full of other things that collected dust so it’s existence was an annoyance to you but Mitsuki bought it as a housewarming gift so…

Anyway, you used that. It was about time it pulled its own weight anyway, even if your husband would think you’re an idiot for using a decorative like that as a vase. You would argue that vases were a type of decorative and they were meant to be used but that didn’t matter.

What matters is you and the amazing bouquet just finished. Yaaasss! It’s beautiful, no doubt, because it made with l o v e. A fact you will rub in your snooty husband’s gorgeous face if he dares to make fun of you because that’s who we are, right?! Right.

He comes come and you greet him from her spot on the couch. He kisses your head as he walks by, mumbling a greeting of his own before he hops in the shower. You continue reading or doing whatever it is you like to do.

At some point in life, he notices the giant bouquet on the kitchen island and he stops. He didn’t buy those. The man narrows his eyes in thought, mentally going through all the important dates before deciding it wasn’t an important day today. Unless something happened that he didn’t know about. The man decided to probe.

“You got flowers,” he grumbled stupidly.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed absentmindedly, not giving him anything.

“Look nice.”

“Thanks.”

You looked at his back, giggling silently to yourself before looking blankly at your book when he turned around. You could see the confused look on his face out of the corner of you eye and it took everything you had not to burst into laughter.

“You get ‘em from that shop by the bakery?”

“No. They’re from a new place that opened up—by where the farmers market is. It’s a cute little shop.”

He stares silently at you before looking back at the flowers then back at you. You could hear the frustration on his face. He would cave in eventually. Bakugo Katsuki hated admitting he didn’t know something important and if he forgot an important date then it was worse. He wouldn’t ask, but, well, he couldn’t think of a single special occasion that happened today. So, he had to ask.

“Any reason for ‘em?”

You hummed softly, kicking your foot up and down before turning a page. You weren’t really reading but, well…“For you.”

Did he really forget something? But you didn’t usually buy him flowers except on his birthday and, even then, it was always simple and never this large. “Why?” he asked.

“Cause I kinda like you, that’s why.”

He made a face and you laughed at it, getting up from the couch to cup his pouty cheeks. He gently grabbed your hips, tugging you a little close as you look up at him with a soft smile. “They reminded me of you, that’s all,” you say, smiling growing when his ears turn a soft pink.

He doesn’t understand that sort of thing—how flowers could remind you of him. You know he doesn’t, so you explain it. As you speak, your hands move and your arms end up resting on his shoulders as you fiddle with your fingers behind his head. You feel like a schoolgirl with a big fat crush when he wraps his arms around you and gently sways, his red eyes lighting up the more you talk. It embarrassing and you feel like you’re on fire, but you wouldn’t mind burning if it was for him. Not like he’d let you burn. It makes you nervous and shy but you explain it anyway because he’s worth being shy for.

You tell him how stubborn he is and how resilient. How determined and strong he is.

You tell him how his touch lingers on your mind endlessly, how you live for the way you can feel him—can see him in the world around you even when he’s not there.

He snorts softly when you tell him how beautiful he is—how pretty his eyes are—and you puff out your cheek in response, pouting at his lack of faith. You ask him if he doesn’t trust you or if he never looks in the mirror and he mumbles that he trusts you more than anyone else in the world. So you tell him again, that he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever met. That the small moments you share with him make you fell close to bursting because you love him so much and you know he loves you too.

You tell him you love how he fits against you—how you fit against him. How safe you feel in his large arms and how protected you feel just by seeing him. You tell him that, after a long day, all you need is one hug and you feel so refreshed and loved.

It mushy and soft and lovey-dovey but you tell him all that anyway. You’re too embarrassed to look at him and he must share the same sentiment cause he buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting a few small kisses by your shoulder. You shyly press your face into your other shoulder, biting your bottom lip as your cheeks burn.

“Do you like them?” you whisper softly, gently fiddling with his hair.

He doesn’t respond, not for awhile. He seeks refuge in your arms—in the safety of your love and you let him. You’re more than happy to. Eventually he mumbles against you. You can’t hear him. You don’t really need to. You know what he said—what he meant. It makes you smile, makes you press his head further into you as you wrap an arm around his shoulder and hug him close. It’s the same feeling driving Katsuki to press his palm against your back and press you even further into himself. His other hand fiddles with your belt loop while he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re an idiot,” he finally says and you snort.

“Whatever, dummy.”

“I should be buying you flowers, dumbass” he mumbles.

You know how grateful he is and you know that he treasures everything you said. You know he only said what he did because he thinks he has to work to deserve you and you know that, even if you told him no. It was you who was undeserving, he would never believe you.

He appreciates your words, you know he does, but he’s an actions kind of man and everything will always mean more to him if he sees your love. You know he sees it which is why he’s so shy all of a sudden. You’re feeling a bit coy yourself and bite your bottom lip, puffing out your cheeks as you do and you can feel the tips of your ears tingling.

“Yeah, well, guys deserve flowers too,” you breathe, “idiot.”

He snorts softly, kicking your shin lightly. “Idiot,” he parrots and you burry your smile in his hair.

It wasn’t until later in the week when Bakugo noticed the black paint on the substitute vase was running off due to the water and, well, you both had a great time trying to find that exact clay decorative in the store. It was a bonding experience, you told him. He called you an idiot but that was no surprise.

@shotorus

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Someone give me a stupidly fun little headcannon or something. I want to gush about about MHA with someone cause the people in my life are BORING

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Just saw this post and, just, Bakugo finding beauty in someone who isn’t afraid to stand for what they believe in. Even if you’re not some super powerful, insanely strong person—hell, if you’re weak, but you still will stand against the storm, ya know. You’re not afraid to fight, even if you know it’s a losing game. You have beliefs and you have those things you will never sacrifice, and instead of letting other people fight for you, you’re getting your hands dirty. You’d face the world to keep what you value.

Maybe, he’s thinking about how you’ fight to keep him too…

The same way he’d fight to keep you…

@miliwritesnow

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Could you imagine if Bakugo Katsuki—little needy stinky boi that he is—was too shy to tell you how he really feels but he couldn’t STAND the idea of being a COWARD so he decides to confess to you in a different language. (I was thinking French cause he hears Aoyama speaking it and he’s all like “Yeah, I can speak croissant, whatever” but you think what you’d like.)

He confesses to you in this language, right, and it’s not just a simple ily or whatever, it’s this super cute super poetic confession he’s been working on for WEEKS! It would be a crime not to hear it, honestly, it’s so out of character and so soft and thoughtful—He says it to your back, mumbling it under his breath like an insult and you FREEZE because, unbeknownst to him, you speak this language and, unbeknownst to him, you also have a raging crush on his fine ass. So, unexpectedly for him, you mumble a response back—a cute little response to his poem and you do it in the language he’s speaking. He isn’t sure what you said, but he recognizes a few words so he KNOWS it was the same language he just spoke and—shjeiehdhrieeimxl! Please he’s be so blushy and embarrassed and so freaking cute!

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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 hero!“ 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 cat-like 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.

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Just saw a dog dad Bakugo thing and if Bakugo had a dog and I went over to his house, I would ALWAYS greet the pooch first. I’d be crouching down, arms wide and a big grin on my face while calling out the cutie and only after five minutes of pets would I look up to Bakugo with the most bland look I could muster before saying “oh, you’re here too” in the most deadpan tone. Then I’d laugh like a fool at his grumpy face because pissing him off is not a hobby but a lifestyle.