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hey so !!   i know i haven’t been here in a hot minute ,  just due to general disinterest in the rpc  /  typical “i am on fucking fire” -esque stress ,   but these past two days have also really opened my eyes to the type of people i’ve been following n like  ...    it’s not good lol .   so i’m gonna be moving denki to a much quieter blog cuz i’m like HELLA slow + unproductive + choosy with my replies and feel bad about not getting to things in a timely manner ,   but also to like ,   just be more private and only really follow some good friends !   i’m also up for doing discord rp stuff  (  where i’m more active  )  just cuz it’s way easier than having to physically be on a computer .

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i have only ever existed to be gay with effy gn

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blstys‌ .

it  comes  with  the  territory,  bakugou  thinks.  being  on  inside  of  his  head;  having  to  deal  with  him  inside  out  and  outside  in  would  make  anyone  predisposed  to  hatred  for  him,  for  the  onslaught  of  baggage  that  comes  with  it  even  before  the  side  effects.  that’s  what  it  is,  isn’t  it?  denki’d  said  it  before,  eyes  still  glazed  from  being  knocked  unconscious  by  the  reason  for  bakugou’s  innate  hate - ablity:  you’re  a  very  difficult  person.  

          ❛  old  fucking  hat,  kaminari.  ❜  there  are  plenty  of  reasons  to  hate  him,  headaches  and  brain  hemorrhages  aside.  it  isn’t  fair  for  bakugou  to  assume  that’s  what  he  means;  what’s  more,  to  assuming  he  ever  knows  anything  when  it  comes  to  denki.  he’s  been  too  caught  up  in  his  own  bullshit  and  insecurity  to  know  much  other  than  the  fact  that  he  seems  to  be  genuine  about  the  first  half  of  that  sentiment  just  as  much  as  the  latter  one  (maybe  even  more  so).

brow  raised,  an  expression  too  cool  for  someone  with  a  lack  of  composure  in  nearly  all  other  settings  they’ve  been  thrown  together,  he  is  a  different  version  of  himself  at  the  end  of  the  day  than  during  it.  all  the  edges  of  him  beaten  down  until  blunted.  still  sharp  enough  to  cut  if  he  applies  some  pressure.

          ❛  what  for  this  time? ❜ 

funny  thing  about  these  cute ,   feisty  little  scares  of  the  end  of  the  world    :    you  don’t  always  get  to  choose  who  you  spend  it  with .    denki’s  currently  learning  that  the  hard  way .

and  sleeping  off  the  physical  tolls  of  a  false  brain  hemorrhage  in  response  to  emotional  distress  isn’t  anything  he’d  recommend  to  any  of  his  fellow  pilots ,   either .    things  get  a  lot  more  real  when  you  actually  play  the  part  you  signed  up  for ,   a  year  or  so  past  what  a  younger ,   stupider  you  consented  to ,   bereft  of  anything  else  to  spend  the  apocalypse  doing  than  willingly  bear  the  weight  of  someone  else’s  baggage .

and  wonder  if ,   when  you  finally  blink  back  to  consciousness  days  later ,   you’re  gonna  have  to  do  it  again .

so  now  he  stands  here ,   hands  in  pockets ,   dingy  olive  jumpsuit  pulled  down  where  it’s  knotted  loosely  around  his  waist .    boots  planted  along  the  edge  of  the  steel  platform  that  faces  the  gargantuan  elephant  in  the  room    :    his  jaeger ,   stationery  in  disuse .

well .    their  jaeger ,   now .

      ❛   how  ‘bout  your  shit  attitude ,   for  one ?   ❜     tired  sigh  cushions  the  blow  as  he  maneuvers  himself  into  a  seat  beside  his  partner ,   legs  swinging  over  the  ledge  and  crossing  at  the  ankles .    he  leans  back  along  the  heels  of  his  palms .     ❛   could  use  one  or  a  hundred  major  adjustments .    i  mean ,   i  get  that  you’ve  made  it  glaringly  obvious  just  how  wholly  you  encompass  both  the  emotional  and  verbal  capabilities  of  a  freshly - thawed  neanderthal ,   but  if  we’re  seriously  expected  to  forge  some  sort  of  government - assigned  bond  here ,   then  you’re  gonna  have  to  give  me  a  little  more  to  work  with .   ❜  

lolling  his  head  along  one  shoulder ,   denki  drops  a  quick  once - over  down  bakugou’s  profile ,    careful  not  to  let  anything  linger  for  too  long .      ❛   soooo  ...    step  one  in  macguyvering  an  entire  relationship  out  of  witty  banter  and  caveman  scowls .    tell  me  something  about  yourself ,   bakugou .    something  that  i  can’t  just  read  off  some  ledger .    ❜

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denki  is  a  mansplainer .

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hey so !    just  a  little  update   :   i’m  purging  90%  of  my  drafts  since  i’ve  been  gone  so  long  (  but  am  keeping  all  the  starters  i  haven’t  replied  to  yet  ) !

this  blog  is  also  gonna  be  pretty  low  maintenance  from  here  on  out  and  i’m  gonna  be  very  slow  getting  back  to  things .    ppl  are  free  to  hit  me  up  anytime  still  for  plotting  or  ship  stuff  tho ,   since  that’s  all  i’m  gonna  be  keeping  up  with  for  a  while  :0 

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blstys‌ .

to  see  the  edge  of  an  auburn  flannel  peeking  out  the  bottom  of  the  crate  is  to  know.

impulse  wants  to  haul - ass  to  denki’s  door.  by - pass  stairs  entirely  and  launch  himself  onto  his  balcony  and  ask  him  why  he's  being  squirrely  about  the  whole  thing.  always  quick  to  demand  answers  for  someone  that  keeps  his  own  heart  tucked  safely  in  the  breast  pocket.  rationale  slows  him;  it  is  obvious.  he  is  meant  to  have  the  private  moment  to  figure  that  out  for  himself.  to  make  of  it  whatever  he  wants.  drags  eyes  back  over  the  bestowed  treasure  trove  -  crate  -  filled  with  an  array  of  presents.  puzzle  pieces.

presumably  the  full  picture  is  supposed  to  say  i  remembered,  happy  birthday.  maybe  it  is  —  that  would  be  enough.  katsuki  can’t  shake  that  it  feels  surface  level.  denki  is  so  prone  to  romance  that  it  seems  hardly  a  hunch  and  more  a  probability.  could  just  be  his  own  bad  habit  of  taking  things  apart  to  see  how  they  fit  back  together.  he’s  over - thinking,  jumping  in  front  of  the  gun  before  he’s  checked  for  bullets.

dissembling,  he  removes  items  one  at  a  time  and  places  them  in  order  on  the  bed  from  right  to  left.  then  goes  down  the  line.  

surface  level  to  sea  bottom:  

spicy  chips,  an  easy  favourite.  something  denki  couldn’t  stomach  the  taste  of.

a  moleskin  journal,  half  full  up.  katsuki  thumbs  through  the  pages  greedily,  eager  to  see  what’s  tucked  into  the  pages;  colour  and  words  and  flowers,  scattered  like  a  pattern  of  thoughts.  

a  familiar  tape - player,  knowingly  unnecessary  and  thus  purposeful,  cassette  already  loaded.  this  is  the  piece  that  takes  the  longest  to  get  through - patience  lent  by  motivation  to  hear  what  denki  means  to  tell  him.  he  listens,  the  way  denki  intends  for  him  to,  eyes  closed  in  the  middle  of  his  room  while  the  sun  bleeds  out  through  a  crack  in  the  curtains.  seventeen  tracks  later,  he  rewinds  the  tape  and  sets  it  back  in  its  place.

half  a  train  ticket  doesn’t  tie  to  a  sense  the  way  the  other  items  do,  ruining  his  running  hypothesis.  he  flips  it  over,  confused:  almost  didn’t  and  is  relieved  at  the  impulse  when  he  sees  what  he  would  have  missed  in  scrawled  words  on  the  back.  a  memory  jotted  down  from  their  first  date.  i  wanted  to  remember,  he  can  almost  hear  denki  say  it.  i  did  remember.

it  still  doesn’t  feel  like  the  point  of  the  whole.

he  reaches  for  the  piece  that  had  initially  caught  his  attention  and  holds  it,  folded  in  his  hands  like  an  open  book.  there  is  no  mistaking  the  flannel  for  anything  other  than  denki’s  go - to.  the  favouritism  is  evident  in  the  fade  of  color  and  looseness  of  buttons  in  equal  measure  to  its  infinite - wash  softness.  katsuki  doesn’t  know  what  else  to  do  with  it  but  put  it  on.  he  wonders  after  the  intention  of  it;  whether  it  is  meant  to  be  borrowed  the  same  way  the  tape - player  is,  something  for  katsuki  to  wear  to  know  more  about  denki,  or  whether  it  is  switching  ownership  permanently.  either  way,  he’ll  be  hard - pressed  to  let  it  out  of  his  possession  any  time  soon.  he  shrugs  it  on,  suddenly  aware  of  the  weight  in  the  breast  pocket.

a  hand  runs  over  the  open  front,  smoothing  out  invisible  wrinkles  and  landing  right  over  the  solid  bump.  he  doesn’t  have  to  fish  it  out  to  guess  what  it  is;  doesn’t  have  to  hold  it  up  to  the  light  to  know,  but  he  does.  impossibly  red,  a  dead  match  for  equally  improbable  eyes.

there  he  is,  tucked  into  the  heart  adjacent  pocket  of  denki’s  favourite  flannel.  laid  out  in  pieces  on  the  edge  of  his  bed.  some  kind  of  metaphor.  it  is  not  what  he  thinks,  though  —  gently  placing  the  glass  back  in  the  flannel’s  empty  space  on  the  bed.  what  he  thinks  is  this:  denki  knows  him.  in  colour  and  sound,  by  trigger  words  and  in  memory.  in  touch  and  taste  and  favouritism.  denki  knows  him  enough  to  pick  the  pieces  of  him  out  and  hand  them  back.  denki  knows  him  better  than  he  knows  himself,  even  and  loves  him  just  the  same.  it  might  not  be  the  full  picture  intended  but  it  is  the  one  he  sees.  it  is  the  one  he  chooses  to  believe.

katsuki  uses  the  stairs,  knocks  twice  and  waits.

perfectly  content  to  seal  away  all  communication  from  the  world  outside  this  dormitory  for  the  rest  of  his  teenage  life ,   denki  steels  at  the  sure  sound  of  presence  at  his  door  step .

finding  a  way  to  occupy  yourself  in  times  of  awaiting  some  kind  of  answer  is  just  about  the  hardest  first - world  thing  there  is  to  do .    what’s  worse  is  that  he  isn’t  even  all  that  sure  there  even  was  a  question  to  be  answered  at  all ,   or  if  he’d  simply  just  thrown  his  garbage  on  katsuki’s  bed  and  said  do  with  this  what  you  will ,   bye .    hard  to  recall   ;   he  most  definitely  blacked  out  during  that  whole  shebang .

     either  way ,   denki  can’t  say  he  was  all  that  successful  in  running  out  the  anxiety ,   himself .    

his  room  is  left  in  towers  behind  him   :   all  his  mugs  and  books  and  figurines  and  candies ,   all  his  shoes  and  pillows  and  jars  of  homemade  scar  cream ,   all  his  cd’s  and  books  he’s  yet  to  read ,   all  his  games ,   all  the  half - eaten  everythings  and  half - starving  plants  he’ll  probably  get  better  at  taking  care  of  some  day .

it’s  a  lot  like  that  scene  in  poltergeist   ---   he  knows  the  one .    and  he’s  bummed  that  it  works ,   that  he  succeeds  in  scaring  the  shit  out  of  himself  when  he  finally  looks  back  at  the  world’s  most  organized  freakout .    if  he  knocks  into  one  or  more  of  the  stacks  on  his  way  to  the  door  to  send  the  foundations  flying  back  to  their  individual  parts ,   well ,   it’s  not  really  an  accident .

so  that  paranormal  spell  quells  itself  to  something  of  uneven  breath ,   pushed  through  pursed  lips  with  one  hand  on  the  knob .    when  he  opens  his  eyes  again   ---   were  they  shut ?   no ,   just  the  one ,   squeezed  tight ,   wincing   ---   there’s  a  person  there  to  occupy  them .  

     ❛   shit ,   ❜      he  says  when  he  actually  means  hi ,   smile  spreading  crookedly  in  place  nonetheless .    no  one  is  capable  of  greeting  their  lover  without  one ,   afterall .    

eyes  then  drop  to  something  familiar ,    something  he’d  worn  just  one  last  time  before  proudly ( ? )   (  worriedly  )   (  desperately ??  )  proffering  ownership  this  very  morning .      ❛   oh .    shit ,   hi .   ❜

brows  pop  as  if  impressed ,   smile  stirring  just  a  bit  sweeter .    it’s  a  good  sign .    and  an  even  better  look .

a  tiny  sprout  of  hope  pops  up  through  the  tension  physically  rolling  off  the  surface ,   unfortunately  backed  by  nothing  particularly  charming  or  witty  to  really  seal  the  deal  here .      ❛   soooooo   ...    happy  birthday ?   ❜

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helsaiwa‌ .

       ❛   WAIT   —–   ARE   YOU   SURE   ?    ❜   it wasn’t often he received gifts —- the small gesture radiated within shouto in MASSIVE volumes, enough for a dimple to crater his cheek and his eyes to ignite in silent GLEE. the charm itself was nothing too special, but shouto was already reaching out to take it. denki’s kindness would not go unnoticed —– he’d find some way to thank him at a later time. 

         ❛  I love cats. ❜           it was his first time admitting such aloud   (   though it’d likely be obvious to the observant eye —- he was oft seen feeding the strays and had a cat patch on his school bag, after all    ).        ❛  have you met my cat?  ❜

SCORE   -------------   with  all  intents  and  purposes  of  patting  himself  on  the  ass ,   he  knew  that  little  number  would  be  a  winner .    maybe  it’s  not  important  to  bring  up  the  fact  that  he  had  no  idea  about  the  patch  or  strays ,   though ,   and  merely  speculated  shouto  to  be  the  kinda  guy  who  would  hang  out  in  the  corner  with  the  host’s  pet  cat  at  any  given  house  party .

    ❛   wait ,   a  cat ?    your  cat ?    you  have  a  cat ?!   ❜      this  is  entirely  brand  new  information !    denki’s  palms  slap  into  his  cheeks ,   mouth  blown  open  into  an  astonished  o .         ❛   canimeethercanimeethercanimeether ?!   ❜  

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 royariti‌ .

                he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised when it came to others in awe of him. not anymore. yet, even after years as a hero, it didn’t stop king from getting a bit self-conscious at the look in their eyes … whether it was kids or adults. it was the popularity, the deeds, the looks. and it was obvious when someone was stuck on them, the scars, as they were one of his most discerning features to the public. that and his height. usually attributed to some mutation, but as far as he was always aware … it was entirely natural.

                king relaxed back, focused on the teen. any resident of saitama would be privy to the central agency that was the association of heroes, a collective of heroes that were held to working together … though, some, definitely had issue with this part of the clause of the agency. they could have their own separate divisions. king had his own, not much well off in the intern section. this only because king had strict rules about taking them. his was more … focused on uplifting the other heroes, those who had trouble with their quirks or with the people. even in general territory.

                a difficult case though ? he’d had quite a few. he’d read through the file sent to him by seiteki, on the student before him. king had had enough cases of heroes who couldn’t fully handle their quirks to recognize that denki was similar. it was the way it had been worded, a faint hesitation in the words written to him. the report was a cautious one all in all, an ask for help. many pros did just the same. respect, yes, and they wanted to grow. that’s what he offered at his little, quiet, out of the way agency. helping kids ? that wouldn’t be entirely new either. he’d raised a few sidekicks … no … heroes up too.

                he managed a faint smile at denki, tapped at his folder. ‘ yes, i assumed as much after reading the file sent to me by seiteki, ‘ he could remember being that young, going on and on, especially with how he was as a boy. everyone had that stage. and he supposed it was even worse when one came into contact with people they looked up to … not a bad thing, that, really. ‘ i’ve been helping other heroes with their quirks for quite a few years now, ‘ it came with the territory of helping others, lifting them up. maybe he paid a price for it, maybe, he didn’t know the answer to that. ‘ i know when someone’s not letting on the full truth, kid. ‘

                unhinged. that had been a colorful way to describe it. not all quirks were made to be handled, at least not with work. ‘ a little known fact about me, my quirk wasn’t made for my body, ‘ he had to build up into it, changed and grew. yet, even now, king still had to be monitored … his heart was troublesome, he’d been warned that maybe it could give out one day. his head tipped,  ‘ i had to grow into it, adapt to it, learn to control it. ‘ it hadn’t been easy.

grow  into  it .    adapt  to  it .    learn  to  ...

     ❛   ------------  is  it  really  that  simple ,   though ?   ❜       he  wonders ,   in  some  beautiful  demonstration  of  what  king  should  expect  from  his  new  intern  over  the  next  few  weeks   :   this  incorrigible  habit  of  speaking  without  thought .    

and  what  he  means  strays  far  from  the  condescension  incidentally  layered  into  it   ---   not  to  diminish  king’s  accomplishments ,   or  at  all  imply  that  the  journey  won’t  be  painstaking .    what  he  means  is  that  there  must  be  steps  missing ,   or  leaps ,   or  even  entire  spiral  staircases .    nothing  about  what’s  brewing  inside  him  feels  like  it’ll  heed  to  some  1 - 2 - 3  stretch  goal .  

clench ,   unclench ,   clench .    a  bite  of  nails  into  palms .    he  looks  to  down  to  his  hands ,   brows  knit .    tries  to  scrape  together  some  context .

      ❛   i  just  feel  like  ...    where  everyone  else  is  progressing  and  growing  alongside  their  quirks ,   i’m  ...    growing  behind  mine .    like  i  can  definitely  feel  myself  getting  stronger ,   but  i’m  also  way  less  in  tune  with  myself  than  i  was  at  the  beginning .    like  there  are  parts  of  me  that’re  slipping  away  somehow .   ❜

figuratively ,   literally   ;   a  quirk  that  has  developed  some  semblance  of  thought ,   or  perhaps  had  been  sentient  all  along ,   and  merely  malnourished  from  what  little  consideration  denki  had  ever  put  into  it  past  total  shame .    famished  for  growth .    now ,   a  glutton .

and ,   as  if  the  devil  spoke ,   a  spritely  strip  of  static  dances  along  his  fingertips  completely  unprompted .    he’s  quick  to  shove  all  ten  into  his  pockets  and  wince  up  to  his  mentor  in  some  violent  hope  that  it  went  unnoticed .      ❛   is  that  a  feeling  that  resonates  with  you ?   ❜   

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campos1a‌ .

          the sun beneath his skin shines bright if you look too closely. the silver stripes of his scars let it leak out — and as such there’s liquid gold beneath the tan of his skin. the sincerity in his smile doesn’t ebb when kaminari is taken so off guard by effusive praise. rather he just blushes too and doesn’t back down, a hand going to the back of his neck as he smiles at the other boy.      “you should get used to the praise now,”     he teases softly, rubbing at one of his cheeks like it make pink bleed back into the olive of his skin.     “ when you’re a pro there’s gonna be FANS  right? especially since you’re gonna be marketable. ”

          there’s another life, somewhere, where izuku had ended up in the business course, working with heroes but not being one. single minded as his devotion to becoming a HERO himself was, it didn’t mean that there hadn’t been times he’d considered he might end up doing something else.

          “ besides, how can anyone not look at someone else’s quirk in this class and not go ‘whoaa!’ “      he mimes amazement, his hands going to his cheeks.

marketable .    huh .    fingers  trace  the  bolt  in  his  hair ,   just  for  a  moment .

    with  two  semesters  spent  playing  catch  up  with  his  classmates   ---   both  between  academics  and  where  years  of  not  familiarizing  himself  with  his  own  quirk  had  come  to  bite  him  hard  in  the  ass   ---   denki  had  not  given  nearly  enough  thought  to  what  his  career  as  a  pro  may  one  day  be  like .    maybe  because  there’s  still  some  weird ,   tiny  part  of  him  that  wonders  if  he’ll  even  make  it  that  far .     maybe  because  the  idea  that  he  could  very  well  die  before  he  manages  to  flunk  out  of  ua  himself  isn’t  all  that  obtuse .

    ❛   that’s  pretty  astute .   ❜      plucking  himself  off  the  ground ,   he  strips  the  dust  from  one  shoulder ,   no  longer  caught  in  some  flustered  state  of  befuddlement .    he  sees  izuku  plainly  now ,   all  pink  cheeks  and  marred  skin  and  a  smile  that  could  set  him  on  fire .      ❛   what  do  you  think  you’ll  be  like  one  day ?    when  this  is  all  over  and  we’re  out  there  for  real  real ,   and  people  are  looking  to  you  for  answers  all  the  time .    what  are  you  tryin’  to  inspire  ...   ?   ❜

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@sculpthalves​  .

     ❛   y’know ,   dude   ---   we’re  kind  of  a  lot  alike ,   you  n’  i .   ❜      a  gesture  made  to  the  cherry - vanilla  swirl  in  question ,      ❛   people  prolly  love  to  ask  if  it’s  natural ,   right ?    if  you  did  it  yourself ?    man ,   if  i  had  a  hundred  yen  for  every  time  ...   ❜    

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how  ya  doin .

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quirkheir‌ .

“ animal … crossing .. ? “     echoing him with a mild confusion, he continued to stare at the screen in awe. the pastel colors and cute character throwing him off. he honestly didnt expect to see kaminari playing something so … adorable ? but after hearing his explanation, he was starting to understand. it sounded relaxing.

“ boring can be a good thing ! “     casting a glance over to kaminari, he smiled at him. the talk of being someone people rely on chiming in his heart. he wasnt really one for video games but kaminari was really selling this one to him.     “ it sounds fun actually … “

“ how do you get the cherries ? … do you have to make the animals cross over something ? “

now  that  earns  him  a  laugh .

    ❛   no ,   dude !    you  get  non - native  fruits  from  other  players !    have  you  seriously  never  played  this  game  before ?   ❜       slit  gaze  manages  to  peel  from  the  screen  for  the  first  time  in  literal  hours ,   widening  to  fixate  on  something  much  more  amusing .    a  single  brow  quirks  in  the  accompanying  disbelief .      ❛   man ,   that’s  messed  up .    a  nice  kid  like  you ?    left  in  the  dark  about  the  this ,   the  game  of  games ?   animal  crossing’s  got  your  name  written  all  over  it ,   midoriya !    y’gotta  try  it  at  least  once !   ❜

tasking  himself  with  an  entirely  new  chore  to  take  place  of  the  more  demanding ,   more  time - sensitive  one  currently  hounding  his  weekend’s  freedom ,   denki  pats  the  seat  beside  him  in  invitation  to  witness  his  promised  glory .      ❛   c’mere   ---   pop  a  squat ,   buddy  boy .    we’re  gonna  learn  ya  a  thing  or  two  about  gratuitous  serotonin  today .   ❜ 

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@middlefade​     /     terushima .

    sluuuuuuuuuuurp .    if  yuuji  hasn’t  already  seen  the  large  cherry  slushie  in  denki’s  hand ,   he’s  sure  to  have  heard  it  by  now ,   obnoxious  sound  preceding  him  as  he  pushes  his  way  out  of  the  convenient  store .    in  the  opposite  hand  is  a  plastic  bag ,   adorned  yellow  smiley  twisting  slowly  to  face  the  boy  it’s  offered  to .    denki’s  tongue  is  red  when  it  finally  pulls  off  the  straw .      ❛   they  didn’t  have  the  shrimp  kind ,   so  i  gotcha  beef  instead .    and  a  kinder  egg .    but  i  call  half !   ❜

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      ❛   BAKUGOU  BIRTHDAY  BAAAAAASH !  ❜  

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adhesive-king‌ .

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“Do you want me to pop your shoulder back into place or something?” He’s not even looking at Kaminari, typing away at his phone and occasionally looking up at the cleaning of the crime scene. Must have been hard. Good thing he didn’t have to deal with it. “Or do you not want Ihop? We can get Mcdonalds or fucking Burgerking.” He still hasn’t stopped typing away at his screen. 

he  physically  cannot  believe  this  shit .    sero  taps  away  at  his  phone  in  midst  of  the  ruin ,   nonchalant  as  ever .    something  explodes  far  off  behind  them .    a  nearby  truck  is  sent  flying .

          ❛   NO !    I  WANNA  GO  TO  THE  HOSPITAL ,   DUMBASS !    why’dja  even  come  if  you’re  gonna  be  useless ?!    and  who  the  fuck  could  you  possibly  be  texting ?!   ❜    

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' dude, don't you think the hamburglar is like ... kinda hot? '

     “ ……………..  every  day  you  move  a  little  further  away  from  all  gods’  light.  ”