#experimenting on dirk.. heehee

[yaoisquidbob]

dirks

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓅𝓉. 𝟥)

character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader (x eijirou kirishima) 

a/n: ok but like ty for all the notes on my last post??? i get so excited whenever there’s a new notification. ALSO, the best time for me to accept requests is from now to sept. 5! i’m currently on summer break, so i will have plenty of time to write from now until then. 

𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!!

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: angst

warnings: mutual pining, cursing, aged-up to third years, bit of a love triangle, romantic tension, one-sided pining, i gave the reader a quirk, kirishima gets jealous EHWJEH

word count: 2031

lol wow things are finally beginning to pick up heehee

please excuse any typos! i edit to the best of my abilities, but it’s easy to miss lost of things 

part 1, part 2 , part 4 

- - - 

you dabbed bakugou’s nose. he winced as you tapped it. “sorry,” you breathed out, switching the tissue in your hand for a clean wipe. 

“i’m fine, dumbass.” 

“then why’d you ask for my help?” you teased, wiping at the blood on his upper lip. 

his cheeks dusted with red, eyes averting to the side. you smiled softly, victorious in his silence. 

nighttime was settling in nicely, the sun bleeding orange into the clouds. 

“look back at me,” you said. gently, you took his bruised jaw in your fingers, adjusting his head so he was facing you. you brushed your fingers along his swelling cheekbone. purple blossomed beneath bakugou’s pale skin. “kirishima was pretty rough out there, huh?’ 

“i’m proud of the guy.” 

you smiled, tilting your head. “you? proud of someone? really?” 

he chuckled. “knock it off, dumbass.” a grin spread across his face, however it was gone when the pain hit. he winced, trying to ignore the sting his smile brought with it. 

you let out a laugh. “just relax, bakugou.” you resumed dabbing away at the excess blood on his face. there were flecks of dirt scattered over his forehead. 

he caught your wrist in one of his soft, large hands. 

your smile faded, and you swallowed, pushing down the rising emotions fluttering into your chest. “yes?” you responded to the silent question his eyes were asking. 

his grip on your wrist loosened, and he let go, letting his arm fall back to his side. 

“everything okay?” 

he didn’t break eye contact as he grunted a reply. “mhm.” 

“alright. i’ll be right back, okay?” 

“‘kay,” he said. 

you stood with a groan, knees sore from all the training you’d been doing lately. you gently shut the bathroom door behind you and rinsed the bits of dirt off the towel, scrubbing away any imperfections stuck between the fibers of the fabric. 

your cheeks were boiling with heat as the ghost of his touch on your wrist lingered. what was that? did he mean to tell you something? 

you wrung out the newly washed cloth and returned to your seat across from bakugou. 

bakugou’s eyes flickered as you began scrubbing the dirk from his forehead. 

“ah,” he gasped out. 

“you’ve gotta stop wincing, bakugou,” you teased. “you’re making me think i’m doing something wrong.” 

“you’ve gotta stop being so rough, y/n.” he took your wrists and pried them away from his face. 

you set the towel down on the table, letting it rest on a paper towel so the excess water could drain out. 

“well, i think the issue is that you haven’t let me set your nose properly.” 

bakugou squinted, unsure. “alright.” he spread his legs, leaning forwards to make your job easier. “do as you wish, y/n.” his voice dropped, eyelids lowering seductively. 

the heat returned to your cheeks, flushing out your confidence from before. instead of replying with an equally snarky comment, you took his face in your hands. “this is going to hurt.” 

“not so much if it’s you.” 

you scoffed. “are you flirting with me, katsuki bakugou?” 

his lips quirked up—just a tiny bit. “stop dreaming, y/n.” 

you ignored the comment and traced your fingers over the bridge of his nose. “on three?” 

he nodded. 

“one—” you cracked the bone into place. 

“ah, shit!” bakugou recoiled back, covering his nose with his hands. “damn brat.” 

“it would have hurt more if you knew it was coming.” you shrugged innocently. 

“at least i would have been prepared.” 

“whatever you say.” you gestured for him to come back to his previous position, and bakugou did as instructed, hands dropping from his face as your hands came back around to cup his cheeks. 

being recovery girl’s grandchild had its benefits. for example, an easy way to get into yuuei off of recommendations. while your quirk wasn’t usually one people would associate with fighting, it came with unexpected pros with how it developed. 

you’d earned the ability not only to heal but to ruin as well. using your quirk, honing it properly, you could twist someone inside out with ease, however, healing was something you were more skilled with. 

a green glow was being emitted from your palms, white orbs flowing into the air and landing on bakugou’s skin. you could tell, under his skin, the bone was fixing itself, beginning to reshape into the flat bridge. 

bakugou sniffed. 

“hold still,” you said. 

“does your healing always make your patients itchy?” 

“it’s just your body healing. stop moving.” the green light receded into your palms. 

you met bakugou’s eyes as you pulled your hands away. you were leaning closer than necessary, out of your seat, knees slightly bent. you could tell his hands were shaking just a bit as they trailed down your arms, starting from your fingertips which were still hovering around his face. 

his hands found their way to your waist. bakugou tugged you closer. barely an inch closer, but it felt like the two of you were inseparable at the moment. 

“y/n?” 

you jumped, and bakugou’s hands fell back to the sides of the seat he was in. you swallowed as kirishima popped up at the doorway. 

you wiped your palms on your shirt, nodding for kirishima to enter. “yes?” 

the redhead walked in warily, hands up and pace slow. “i hope i’m not...interrupting anything. am i?” 

you shook your head. “not at all. we were, um. we were just finishing up.” you picked up the cloth intended for wiping bakugou’s face. “do you think you could finish up by yourself?” 

he took the cloth from your hands. “yeah, sure.” he pushed himself up and was out of your room, waving his thanks. “i’ll pay you back so i don’t owe your ass, got it, y/n?” 

“Alright.” 

bakugou shut the door behind him, leaving you and kirishima alone. 

“so, what was that about?” 

your eyes flew wide. “what was what?” 

“don’t act oblivious, y/n. you two looked at each other like you hung the moon in the sky.” 

you bit your lip, hiding the smile that was brought about upon reminiscing about the recent seen. “it wasn’t anything, kirishima. don’t worry about it.”

“i’m worrying. you know bakugou.” 

“that’s something you’d say about someone with dating experience, and a bad reputation regarding it. bakugou is—” 

“just like every other guy out there? it’s the twenty-first century. there are not many decent people left out here. do you really think he’s any different?” 

“well,” you said, shaking your head, “personally, i see he’s changed.” 

“two years isn’t going to erase all the past shit he’s done.” 

“there’s a thing called forgiveness.” you quirked an eyebrow at him, tilting your head down as you began cleaning up. “plus, it wasn’t necessarily his fault. we can both agree that hero society created toxic standards for all aspiring pros.” 

kirishima clenched his fists. “he’s bad for you.” 

you tossed out a few wipes into the garbage. “sorry?” 

“he’s...not good for you.” 

“i appreciate you thinking nobody is good enough for me, but at the end of the day-” 

unknowingly, kirishima was hardening his fingertips. his nails punctured the soft skin of his palms. “i don’t mean he’s not good enough for you, but that’s another truth, too. he’s just not good for you.” 

you turned, smiling brightly. “and since when did you know what was good for me?” you laughed, eyes closed. “why are you trying to dictate my decisions-” 

when you opened your eyes, you found kirishima standing closer, brows furrowed angrily.

your expression lowered into something angry. “what’s the matter?” 

“i just...i can’t.” 

“can’t what?” 

kirishima was one to be slow to anger. he always had been. you can’t recall a time you saw him angry or pissed except for when bakugou had been kidnapped by the league of villains. 

“kirishima,” you scoffed, “are you genuinely pissed over this? what? is this because i got mad at you because i scolded you for breaking bakugou’s nose? if anything, i don’t think i was wrong for-” 

“that’s not it. that...that isn’t it, y/n.” he stepped towards you. kirishima closed the gap between you both, pressing your back against the wall, trapping you there between his arms. “that isn’t it at all, y/n.” 

you swallowed. “then what is it, kirishima?” his eyes met yours, serious and stern. 

your chest tingled. 

he brought his fingers to your chin, angling your face with ease to get a better look at you. “call me eijirou.” 

“what?” 

“just once. please.” 

“why-” 

“once.”

“...what is it, eijirou?” 

the pause felt like an eternity. “it’s you, y/n.” 

“it’s...me? what about me? did i do something wrong?” 

he chuckled softly, but there was no humor in his longing smile as he stared down. “you’re so oblivious.” 

you could hear his heart beating, getting faster with every sentence he pushed out. 

“you’re so clueless, y/n. it’s kind of pissing me off.” 

“what am i doing to piss you off?” you snapped. 

he tongued the inside of his cheek. “like i said.” he flashed you an award-winning grin. “clueless.” kirishima pushed himself off the wall and left the room, the door shutting hard, but not slamming shut. 

you were left breathless, the hint of his cologne still lingering in the space before you. 

you’d avoided kirishima and bakugou for the rest of the night. 

- 

what kirishima had wanted to say was nothing like what he said, but he knew everything would come out all wrong if he’d try to say anything. 

his mind would have jumbled all his words, and he’d look like a crazy, insane lover. 

bakugou wasn’t bad for you. not at all. you two were perfect for each other. you both had thick skin for silly rebuttals towards one another. you brought out the fun side of the blonde, and he worked you to your best. 

kirishima was just your best friend. he hated to be the one who had fallen with nothing to soften the blow that was surely coming soon. 

his ears burned nearly as red as his hair. a shudder passed down his back, the feeling of your jaw pressed between his thumb and index finger still imprinted there. 

“i can’t fucking stand to see you around him.” 

kirishima made his way to the common room, finding bakugou looking for snacks there. kirishima scoffed as his friend emerged with an apple in hand. 

it was not like he hated bakugou. not at all. he didn’t think that pining for the same girl would ruin their friendship. he was just angry that you chose him. 

kirishima respected your decisions. he wouldn’t ever try to get in the way of anything if you and bakugou made that kind of decision. he just wanted to be near you. 

perhaps he should leave the situation alone. leave you alone and just forget about how his feelings were nagging at him every day. 

he should forget how you were the first thing on his mind every morning, and the thing he thought about when he fell asleep. 

you were everywhere. should he forget that too? 

- 

bakugou tossed his apple into the air. he clapped his friend on the back, taking a bite out. “go to sleep, idiot.” 

“don’t call me that.” 

bakugou turned, startled that kirishima wasn’t taking bakugou’s shit today. “you good?” 

“i’m fine, but i’m not an idiot.” 

bakugou’s body tightened. “alright.” 

the pair stood awkwardly for a moment before kirishima sucked in a sudden breath. “what is y/n to you?” he asked. 

bakugou raised an eyebrow. “what?” 

“they’re obviously something to you.” 

“listen, they were just helping me out. didn’t think you’d get offended from them fixing my broken ass nose.” 

“that’s not what i mean. i walked in on you two, and you were about to—” 

“i wasn’t going to do jackshit.” bakugou tossed his apple away, too angry to eat anything anymore. 

“yes. don’t lie to me.” 

“i’m not lying. where is all of this coming from?” 

kirishima huffed out a frustrated breath. he shouldered past bakugou. kirishima uttered words he hated himself for saying. “leave me alone.”

- - -

tag(s): if u want to be tagged in any continued fic of mine, pls let me know! i don’t have a taglist, but please @ me and ask to be on the taglist! thank u <33 

@heizenka 

@insomniac-nerd-posts-things

[mmmmalo]

i wasn't oblivious of all the horrors that surround jade's early childhood, i just ignored them because they're dumb and boring

My gut instinct is to indignantly reply “what difference does it make that an imaginary girl was subjected to imaginary horrors??” and be lowkey affronted, but it’s not like horror automatically makes a good story.

“Why should I care?” ...is a fair question. For me personally, I just like Jade. I think she’s nice and funny, I sympathize with her self-loathing and dogged refusal to let herself crumble. You see her struggle, you start rooting for her, like any other hero or your preferred sports team... you allow yourself to identify with some kernel that’s beset by the hostile forces and your heart is accordingly billowed on the tide of the hero’s successes and failures, you are now JADE HARLEY, etc etc

Another part is that... the process of trying to understand is compelling. Learning more about Jade feeds into my emotional experience of the hero, and the severity of her lows makes me all the more eager to see her overcome them, because I want to believe that horror won’t break you forever. I really want that to be true, for myself and for everyone that suffers. But at the same time, I enjoyed figuring it out? Like assembling a jigsaw puzzle of an image of Hell, there’s satisfaction in the activity even as you move towards something horrendous -- maybe even because you’re moving towards something horrendous. Destiny is calling me, open up my eager eyes, ‘cause I’m Mr. Brightside, etc etc.

But I think these explanations fall short, because I’m still not sure why I care -- it’s not like I feel this way about every puzzling story I encounter. I cared about Homestuck before I cared about understanding Homestuck. Something in the story spoke to me, and I feel compelled to listen. Maybe it’s the fact that the story is itself built on deconstructing stories, and the author is hell-bent on providing the audience with the tools needed to take the story apart? Like the author is seeking his own “death” (haha. heehee. hoohoo.). Maybe its the juxtaposition of comedy and horror -- the sense that the your immersion in the story is being challenged, that the author is attempting to pull you out of the story, so you grip the sadness all the tighter even as the story mockingly pushes you away? Maybe it’s the tragic comedy in Dirk’s comment on the irony’s sincere heart, and how Homestuck structures so much of what it has to say upon things that it encourages the reader to not take seriously. What’s that thing avatar Hussie said... something about self-aggrandizing self-deprecation. Making jokes with the dark satisfaction that no one knows you’re serious... Maybe it has something to do with the sense that information is being dangled above my head, rather than simply being hard to find. Maybe I’m just some loser displacing his desire to fight God or Dad or something, like John and his unseen riddler.

Idk man.