#me: yes absolutely flawless logic

[narwhalandchill]

spicy take incoming but i kinda wish ppl werent so desperately attached to and protective of this moniker of Great Big Brother 100% Perfect So True And Real when it comes to childe bc honestly. he really isnt (perfect or even that good at times) and to me acknowledging the ways both he and his family (for enabling him) are in some ways kinda just. doing teucer incredibly dirty in the long term but only with the best of intentions in the short term is so much more interesting than just pretending hes a flawless brother?? like it only adds to the drama and irony of it all man like theyre rly so dysfunctional as a family unit its great. even if hoyos likely never exploring that shit in its true depth it still lives rent free in my head for sure lol

like. you rly dont have to turn ajax into some sort of unfeeling uncaring monster of a shit brother to acknowledge that he does, in fact, repeatedly make incredibly reckless and selfish choices during his SQ with teucer and in general by choosing to obstruct the truth of who he is from lil bro so completely?

like this stuff can be nuanced and coexist with his absolutely 100% genuine commitment to protecting teucers bubble of a worldview (and w the theme of childlike dreams and wishes being so prevalent in general who knows what could be cooking w that one in particular) and his loyalty and love for his family without just having to whitewash the dumb shit he does lmao

like just bc hes capable of and willing to face the potentially grave repercussions of absolute bangers (🙄🙄) like teaching an actual fucking child to consider ruin machines fun besties and 100% insta ready to fuck himself up by protecting teucer at the cost of aggravating his still-unhealed injuries from the liyue AQ when dottores abandoned lab turns out to be more lively than expected doesnt. make that choice not a very irresponsible one yall im begging 💀

like. hes the adult here . the entire situation unfolding as dangerously as it does in the factory is Absolutely all on HIM for not being able and/or willing to disappoint teucer by just . Doing the mature thing and sending him away to safety because HES gotten too attached to this idea of being his lil siblings' loyal knight and perfect brother that Always finds a way to surpass the expectations no matter the cost its a role HE wants to keep playing despite the risk

like its So obviously a pride thing for him too and thats so fucking interesting because Of how flawed and questionable the logic is!! like yes he truly cares about teucer and ensuring he has a great unforgettable time during this impromptu escapade in liyue like thats not up to debate but the point im trying to make is that the choices he makes are Still very much intertwined with his ego and overconfidence and not really based all that much on Whats Actually The Best Approach Here. he improvises a way to give teucer the best mr cyclops outing he has ever seen bc HE wants to be the one offering him that experience and ends up biting off a bit more than he can chew and he can only blame himself for that one and This Isnt Fucking Sustainable

like i dont think that makes him evil but i do think it showcases his arrogance and flaws in a very concrete way and is a part of why calling him a perfect brother or at least one without an asterix just. rubs me off wrong lmao

like idk feel free to keep calling him that if its important to u and all if u want idc (and i do to some extent get why this defensive narrative of insisting hes great no issues at all emerged bc i remember 1.1 some ppl acting like hes childcare satan for how he treats teucer lol) but. at least like . Be willing to chip in to fund the therapy teucers going to need for those lifelong trust issues in the future man 💀

Bc Thats The Other Thing. now tonia and anthon i dont consider a part of this bc at least they Know hes in the fatui and hiding the gory details of ur harbinger job from ur baby sibs is like. fair enough and reasonable. but. crafting an Entire different AU version of yourself and feeding it to your baby brother as what constitutes actual reality surely is a choice of all times like ajax ily but genuinely . What the fuck if you were real id throttle you

AND HIS FAMILY ENABLING IT THE ENTIRE TIME ITS CRAZY LIKE. As a person with multiple siblings both older n younger with some similar age gap cohorts involved. God id snitch so fucking fast i dont think ppl rly stop and think much abt how objectively horrifying this shit is from teucers long term pov 😭 in the best way obviously given its fiction like its so scrumptiously awful and dysfunctional .

(& just in general man im just so obsessed with the way ajax 14 basically broke the eggshell of his past life and emerged to rise towards his destiny drowned in the guts and gore of the place and people and community he once called home unconditionally. Bro he fucked that town UP and now his family relations will never ever be the same its so fucking Delicious. those 3 days missing and what followed are just Actually a literal fucking horror movie when you stop blindly stanning our ginger menace, forget ajax' side and take the pov of his family and morepesok in general Why Are People Not Talking About This)

like. its not that i dont understand Why this is sth childe ended up doing as i said Thats The Point. its human. teucer is the only one in the family who wasnt there during that fateful 3 days/months . Like yea anthon and tonia were prolly sheltered from most of the carnage back then too but they still Know where he was sent when he became literally uncontrollable and almost killed the neighbors (everybody & their mom loves demonizing his parents as if his demon spawn ass left them a fucking choice JFEJSJSJSKDKS) . like its at least Known.

but then theres teucer.

And like. teucers the Only one with whom ajax can even pretend to have that delusion (ha) of normalcy and a family that hasnt seen him gaze into the abyss and stare back bloodied and grinning ear to ear . like. hes the only shot childe can have at even playacting some crude imitation of normalcy before Everything and even That comes with an expiration date hes fully aware of. so theres just lies after lies after lies and the fact that even his family just. if not actively partaking in the charade then at least silently allows the entirety of it to happen to teucer whos the Only fucking one out of the loop is just..... dude its not fair on him At All

Misleading teucer THIS much is just. its fucking horrible man but i GET it. thats why its so delicious man i GET it but god its just . imagine being teucer in this situation.... thats his entire fucking World shattered once the truth comes out. Everyone close to him has been lying to him his entire time. They all knew and they let him be misled. Like sure he might be happier Now with ajax dutifully protecting that childhood dream of his but after that. Just. sit on this for a bit. after everything do we Really think teucers just going to understand why it came to be and see it as worth it???? Will he really????

yet at the same time as awfully cruel it all is its just So human!!!!! Its so human of both ajax and his family to use the innocence of the only child that was spared the aftermath of worlds best/worst 3 month abyss training camp to indulge in this flawed false reality where their third son didnt walk into the void and come back hungry for More until only the fatui could take him and even then it only spurred him on further on that path. Like its all an act and a lie and its just. Not fucking fair on teucer but hes still doing it and theyre letting him even tho they Know it wont last theyre all looking teucer in the eye every day and letting him believe like man....

like in both the entire ruin factory sequence And in general hiding the truth from teucer as extensively as childe does hes being incredibly selfish but at the same time its selfishness only rly in the way all people are when it comes to Wanting to be seen a certain way by the ones they love and care about. and thats what makes it so interesting. bc as much as the choices he makes are dubious (or like. this decision makes sense to him. a morally bisexual total omnivore ethics-wise narwhalpilled since 14 who sees exclusively in abyss shrimp colors and acts accordingly) both they and the motivations behind them are also just. So very human ones . as terrible as the implications and eventual inevitable downfall of those choices can (will) be.

like. is it not that much more fascinating to consider all the ways that childe is neither a particularly exemplary nor an egregiously bad brother just one that. Happens to be wired weird in the head and proud and flawed and with a track record of heavily suspect decision-making but that also very much genuinely loves his family man. Like i can love that about him without dismissing the fact that theres parts to how hes treating teucer that 100% can and imo rly should backfire horrifically bc. It really just is that fucked up

hes not a good brother hes Worse AMD better than that and also not alone in this like. his family is an active fucking part of this . But like still . Is he trying his best with his abyss shrimp colored vision ? Yes. Is his love genuine? Absolutely. What are the marks? 3/10 meet me in the office after class mister youre just actually horrible (affectionate) 😭

A perfect brother? Not My Ajax man 🗣🗣 and like theres SO MUCH to explore in that it makes me so sad you just. Never see any of it p much in fanworks bc we all just call him best bro and whatever and thats that like its so sad. this family is terrible horrible awful and no good and they deserve it but also didnt deserve it it was misfortune it was fate it was inevitable . justice for teucer man i need to get him in therapy asap

[amuseoffyre]

Have had a couple of days and a rewatch and some mulling to put together my thoughts:

The good:

the writing - I've talked at length about the use of metaphor, symbolism, allegory and the like to add meat and substance to the narrative

the continuity tied in to S1 and the foreshadowing coming full circle, plus running themes continuing

the music is flawless throughout - both the soundtrack with songs and the original score and the way old motifs are used to add parallels and depth to scenes

the acting across the board has been staggeringly good. Especially for Taika, Rhys and Con. I can see why so many reviews had been raving about it.

the bits of set-up for S3 that have been planted if/when they get it

new characters who are an absolute delight

Family Trauma the TV show - intense to watch but cathartic af

Badass ladies and the soft boys who love them

Auntie.

The bad:

too much story and not enough time to tell it

sacrificing a lot of crew-related stuff - I know this is primarily the Ed and Stede story, but we're told that Olu was always talking about Zheng, but we never even got a single line of it. Buttons' disappearance gets one sus line. We gloss over the probation and why Ed is back in his leathers literally the next day. Again, I know, time constraints, but it does feel weaker for it.

speedrunning so much that it's taken several rewatches to catch everything that's going on - yes, it can work as a narrative device, but not all the time

still not over Zheng falling for Ricky's gift. Do not trust the aristocratic white dude, especially not when you've been blackmailing him. And I know there's some logical sense to her being so used to being able to manipulate desperate people on the fringes with both carrot and stick, but it feels like severe underestimation on her part about how ruthless and cruel and petty Ricky could be. He's not like the pirates - he has the power and privilege and it feels like she ignored that.

whatever that Teal Oranges pivot was so Jim could have a girlfriend, especially since they didn't have time/space to actually develop the Olu/Zheng and Jim/Archie stuff. Archie was barely a scrape of characterisation because of time constraints.

The ... Forbs Boding

Izzy - it falls under the typical archetype of Loss of a Role Model especially given all Ed's dad issues, which I thought we were beyond, but then it also fits with the running motif of the show of change, death and rebirth. We've had confirmation of the existence of a place between life and death plus a character who was beaten to death coming back from it and a seawitch turning up at the grave. I can see why it was done as it has been foreshadowed since "the only retirement we get is death" but after all his growth in S2, having Ricky be the one to get the jump on him is... hm. I feel like they had him and Ricky talking and Ricky causing his death for a reason. Feels like there's set-up for S3 planted and ready. My Forbs, they are A-Boding. ffs, they Obi-Wanned him right after he did a speech about "our spirit will last beyond your whole fucking empire". Strike me down and I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine vibes.

The way trauma is/isn't being dealt with - I feel like there's stuff there that is set up for S3 as well, because we've seen how Stede is still bottling all his stuff and hasn't dealt with any of it, while Ed has done some processing and started to make peace with himself over it. Stede still has his mental lockbox and while he tries to pretend it isn't there, it still informs so many of his decisions.

All the Star Wars vibes - I've always been convinced this was the Empire Strikes Back season and now, they have all the pieces in play for the Return of the Jedi arc: Stede and Ed are together and recovering but will have a role to play, Izzy is in carbonite with a seawitch control panel, their allies are out there getting pieces in place, and the Imperial figurehead villain who showed up in S2 is still out there and convinced he holds all the power. And I just realised that this means that if they use Hornigold, he's the equivalent of Boba Fett - Bounty Hunter for the Empire XD

On the whole, I am content with it and am already having thoughts about the potential for S3, but I find it incredibly frustrating knowing how much more it could have been with the budget/time they wanted and didn't get.

[bigblueoctoling]

Thoughts on the antagonists of Splatoon

A twitter post (or more accurately, the responses to it) pissed me off and I have to give my thoughts.

I'm going to give my thoughts and spoiler alert Mr. Grizz is the only bad one so I'm going to talk about him last

Octavio

So, the thing that irks me about people's opinions on Octavio is, as is probably obvious if you read my last post, people who think that Octavio is redeemable, or god forgive, an "anti-hero" as I saw someone say.

On one hand, yes, Octavio inherently has some good reasons behind his actions; Octarians are a very disadvantaged people who are struggling through an energy crisis- frankly inkopolis seems to have an entirely unnecessary overabundance of energy that could easily be shared with Octarians, but isn't.

On the other hand, it generally becomes clear as we learn more about him and octarians as a whole that his motives aren't entirely just- similar to Cuttlefish. Cuttlefish is much more evidently presented as an old war vet who still holds a heavy prejudice against not just all Octarians but Octolings in general. Octavio is much the same way- while he's not morally in the wrong from stealing from the severely energy-abundant Inkopolis, it's quite clear from his actions that he's not a good leader. His actual amount of political power is vague, but either way, as the head of the Octarian Military at the very least, he surely would have some power over the heavily militarized Octarian people who are seemingly raised for the sole purpose of being soldiers. A part of the reason why the Octarian people are so disadvantaged is because the Octarian government is corrupt.

All in all, this makes Octavio a very in-depth villain, but it absolutely doesn't make him the anti-hero. He's a part of the problem, and he very clearly has an enormous bias for self-aggrandizing, propaganda, and revenge.

Commander Tartar

Tartar is a perfect representation of humanity; his entire execution is flawless. He's very directly involved in the story, directly manipulating Eight with cult-like language of escape into the promised land. He has a very direct impact on the entire story- he created the levels to filter out the most skilled test subjects for use in his cause. His cause, despite him being an AI, is decently reasoned with flawed human logic- he simply does not consider the sea life that developed into Earth's sapient species to be an adequate target to pass the torch of humanity's knowledge to, because, from his uninvolved, impersonal observation, they seem to repeat the same mistakes of mankind. He dehumanizes the people he's subjugating toward contributing towards his cause, committing genocide upon those he views as subhuman. He is the perfect encapsulation of humanity.

The idea of anyone seeing any flaw in his execution is baffling to me. Frankly I just do not think you're smart enough to have a say in the quality of a game's writing if you think that tartar is a poorly written villain.

Smollusk

So, I'm going to be frank- I feel like the people who think that Smollusk is a generic evil "take over the world!!" villain simply did not finish playing Side Order, or just didn't bother thinking about the story of Side Order enough to have a say on the matter. To be fair, I thought the same thing when I beat Smollusk the first time, but as you keep beating smollusk, they keep revealing more and more of the story.

It's one thing to just not prefer this method of storytelling, I can't say it's as perfect as, say, Tartar's execution, but even people who actually finished Side Order will say that "all the extra story is just dumped after the ending", as if for some reason that doesn't count. Like, honestly, the execution of Side Order isn't perfect, but acting like anything said after the credits just doesn't exist is simply silly.

And just for the sake of completing this analysis: Smollusk seems very much like a manifestation of a part of Marina's subconscious, and the subconscious of many Octarians who helped produce this project. Smollusk's depth comes from the way the things it says reflect the inner feelings of those who produced the game, especially Marina.

And frankly anyone who says it's "just a generic supervillain who wants to take over the world" just plain didn't read the text in the game. It was never about "taking over" the world, it was to bring everything to a state of complete stasis. I won't say Order was perfectly executed but this is objectively a very different goal from Taking Over The World Because I Am The Evil Super Genius!!!

Mr. Grizz

Mr. Grizz is objectively just a very lazy and rushed attempt to mimic Tartar. He has no relevance to the story until the very end, at which point he just exposits his ideology, which is just "fish are bad and mammals are good" surrounded by an obnoxious amount of Business Lingo which is meant to be funny. His only motive just has no meaningful depth behind it, on top of blatantly just being Tartar's goal again (humans good fish bad). He has zero relation to Alterna- the dude was shot into space, he's pretty much only in Alterna to nab their extra rocket. The levels in Alterna just arbitrarily resemble Octo Expansion's for zero reason; there's absolutely no attempt to explain why this human facility has tests for inkfish, nor is there really any reason why Mammalians are there to defend it.

For a campaign entitled "Rise of the Mammalians", Mammalians are given literally zero elaboration- not only are they very blatantly just an excuse to reuse Octarians for the fourth time, but there's no in-universe reason for them even being here. At no point is Mr. Grizz seemingly actively trying to stop you, nevermind that Alternia's entire layout doesn't really seem designed to stop you, nor does Mr. Grizz seem particularly interested in trying to stop you. The only bosses are Deep Cut, who are just kind of There on their own accord for Ambiguous Things That Have No Actual Explanation And Are Just There To Be The Thing That Lets You Get To The Final Boss.

Deep Cut are done so dirty by Splatoon 3, for the record. Unrelated to this post but expect a post on that at some point.

Ultimately, Mr. Grizz has absolutely zero meaningful impact on the entirety of Splatoon's lore. He... "dries out?" Cuttlefish for absolutely no logical reason, he just says ambiguous shit about Needing Him for his Plan but what exactly that means is left entirely vague. Nothing about his plan is really personal to Salmonids- like, Tartar specifically thinks that sea folk are undeserving of being considered on par with humans, but Mr. Grizz doesn't really elaborate on why he thinks Fish Bad, they just Are. It's not that he thinks Salmonid deserve to be subjugated, hunted, and treated like animals, he just needs golden fish eggs for power because yeah. And ultimately, killing Mr. Grizz does nothing to impact the story, it just arbitrarily completes it- we learn literally nothing of the Mammalians, Salmonids are still being subjugated to being hunted and having their young harvested, and nothing in particular becomes of Alterna. It's nothing but pure arbitration.

In conclusion, frankly, if you think Mr. Grizz is at all an interesting character, let alone better than any other antagonist, I'd LOVE to hear an explanation because the opinion genuinely makes no sense to me beyond headcanons.

[sunlitsorrows]

ok i’m sorry i haven’t really been live-blogging as much about Fugitive Telemetry but i was too invested in the story/trying to solve the mystery and given it was more of a mystery than the others i really didn’t want to spoil it

Final Thoughts: HOT DIGGITY YES

everything.

everything.

every.

single.

thing.

i can’t say i didn’t have any idea whodunnit because even without the one stray spoiler i saw that pointed me in the right direction, Well’s writing is so tight and logical the reveal made absolute sense—but—only right before she revealed it.

FLAWLESS EXECUTION

*chefs kiss*

everything: pacing, stakes, twists, characterization, everything came together so seamlessly! not having read Network Effect yet i cant venture a guess as to how i would have felt if i’d read it after Network Effect, but i still believe reading in chronological order was the better choice for me, because some reviewers said the pacing of Network Effect is much slower; i feel like Fugitive Telemetry is a perfect bridge/ramp up, between the breakneck pace of the first 4 books, to slow the reader down—but only a little—to prepare them for a longer and more complex narrative.

[lestappenforever]

Hi. I just wanted to say I love how rational you are. Your answers to asks are so well thought out and thoughtful as well as kind. So keep being amazing.

As for Lestappen going mainstream, there are two sides to it. One is that Max haters want Max to be a villain so badly. They want everyone to hate him and especially the F1 prince (he’s a princess but to each their own I guess) but what they don’t know is Charles loves Max and vice versa. They are the same, they see themselves in each other. Two, Lestappies are also scared because we have a bubble here on tumblr and Ao3 (X doesn’t count because that place is toxic AF) People don’t want that bubble bursted because once it is and Max/Charles get a whiff or any negativity they might start hiding their interactions. But the thing is, of course they know people ship them, just about any celebrity knows people ship them with whatever other person out there, the problem would be breaking the fourth wall and just being outright insane about wanting them to be together or harassing them and their partners about this.

Do people really think if both Max and Charles were not happy about it they’d allow their teams to post about them with the actual ship name??

Also, we have Carlando. Everyone and their grandmother knows about Carlando. Both Carlos and Lando use that ship name. So does Carlos’ dad, F1 commentators etc. So why should Lestappen be any different? Yes there are people out there with no value for basic human decency and lack of common sense but if we are all respectful, I don’t see why Lestappen can’t be as fun as Carlando and even way better. So if some people think they are doing the nasty behind their gfs backs that’s on them, but keep it to yourself or fandom spaces don’t go to Max and Charles or their partners with that bs and that includes their comments or tagging them in whatever. We don’t know the extent of their relationship whatever they are to each other makes them happy and we should be happy for them too.

Looking forward to today’s podium (Lestappen 1-2) and their honeymoon in Las Vegas as per F1 Las Vegas suggested 😉

Good evening, my darling anon! Thank you so much for your kind words. I love getting asks, and this fandom makes me so happy, so I'm very glad to hear that you think that’s reflected in the way I answer asks. ❤️

And you are absolutely right, with everything you've said. Max haters will make Max out to be the villain he isn’t no matter what, and that’s never going to change. But they will be free to live in their delusion because there is no denying that not only do Max and Charles respect each other, they also like each other. Genuinely. The people who can’t deal with that are going to keep trying to convince themselves of a reality that doesn’t exist, which is fine. What isn’t fine is trying to force their narrative on people who clearly disagree with it.

As for them being aware of people shipping them: Oh, absolutely. Shipping is everywhere, and if they were truly uncomfortable with the concept of Lestappen, their teams would not be posting about it on main. It’s that simple. But keeping certain parts of shipping, like fanfics, far away from the people of the ship is a given anywhere, with any ship, in any fandom. That’s something that’s meant to be fun for fans, and nobody should be pushing those things onto the people involved, their partners, their families etc., in any capacity. That’s simply a matter of common decency, and being a reasonable human being.

Shipping is supposed to be fun, and if you take it to the real world and the real people involved, it stops being fun and starts being incredibly uncomfortable for everyone involved. Let’s stay in our little bubble and be happy here, and take the Lestappen content we get on main with open arms.

Oh, babe, me too. I'm manifesting a Lestappen podium with everything I have, and I am so excited for this race.

I absolutely love your take on this whole thing, anon, and your logic is flawless. I love you. ❤️

[pocketsonny]

Gonna share my TakeRyo delusion of the other day here too from twitter: knight ryoken, prince takeru......

the wild prince who believes he can well protect himself, and he doesn't want the son of a traitor as his guard.....the knight who's fine with his prince detesting him because it'll make it easier to defend him (it will matter not if he looses his life, his prince won't grieve)

the prince who fights right alongside knights, who views them all as equals; he's probably stronger than most of them, but ryoken still has a duty--and he doesn't need takeru's trust in order to to protect him with his sword, or his body if need be

(do i just want ryoken to call takeru 'my prince' in the midst of passion yes i do!!)

>takeru that insists ryoken call him by his name when they're alone...(but he doesn't hate 'my prince' when it's ryoken saying it softly in his ear...tenderly...)

(asks if ryoken would start calling him 'my king' when takeru eventually becomes one...mutters sth like 'well i may start saying it too' '?' 'nothing' (implied he wants ryoken to be at his side KKASD me marrying takeryo in another au

>i'm giving ryoken long hair again even if it's impractical for a knight I LOVE LONG HAIR RYOKEN

>takeru gets ryoken to go to balls and events not dressed as a knight with the excuse "you can protect me better if you can be up close. dancing. with me" (flawless logic)

>ryoken who says "you were always wary of me for being the son of a traitor. i may have got close simply to betray you." when he feels things are Too Real and Oh No my prince really does love me and We Should Not be doing this, and takeru who calls Bullshit.

ryoken going as far as to duel him to prove his point, that takeru shouldn't be so soft and trusting, because he WILL be betrayed one day, and takeru like

"that's a risk i'm willing to take........but if that ever happens i have you to watch my back"

"in fact...you could watch my back even closer than now if"

"...if?"

"well, we go to a lot of places together since you're my personal guard...but our rooms are still separate. you can't be present in the room for certain meetings..."

(starting to kneel down) "...but as my spouse, you could"

"w--/what are you doing/"

"i think," flustered, taking ryoken's hand, "i'm asking you to marry me"

(somewhere the queen (grandma homura) is actually quite pleased about this development. saw it coming a mile away. )

(also i think ryoken absolutely gets teased about this by his fellow knights. some don't like that he's closer to the prince cause they see it as him trying to gain royal favor but other's are like "so when are they getting married cause i got a major bet going on on this")

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

Anyway, I'm having a lot of Thoughts on the process and on writing lately because there's this horror author I like--

or, back up. you know that tweet that's like "all albums are surprise albums to me," because the OP doesn't follow any musician news that closely? same. okay. apply that same blissful lack of curiosity to an author's back catalogue.

if it's not a series, I have NO idea what was published when. I do not care! Either I don't like the writing (tbh most contemporary genre writing) and I'll read none of it, or I do like the writing and I will DEVOUR THE ENTIRE BACK CATALOGUE.

so there I am, knee deep in some good horror shit, when things start getting...blander. more White audience friendly. less horror. more girlboss, in the most shallow way.

less occult, in very many meanings of the word.

some books are very good, steeped in indigenous lore, highly personal, blue collar, brilliant, no class or gender of character is consistently the butt of the joke. and some books are: haha, aren't men stupid brutes? yes, even our men of color! our indigenous men! they're just so stupid! they deserve to die. GIRL POWER!

every protagonist is now a college educated girlboss.

and it eventually dawned on me: oh no, this author is writing to a prompt. check the dates.

and oh, the trend is so consistent. the more men are pathetic, the more flawless the female lead, the newer the book is.

the more gritty (and yes, authentic) the lore, the older it is.

Now, you might think that just means I'm old and my taste is dated. And I would argue that if by "dated," you mean, "men are allowed to be written as people," then yeah, make me a fuckin fossil, baby.

but it's not just the stupid gender politics. it's how everything else in the story has to suffer, because indigenous folklore and magic, in particular, do not care about your White Feminist cartoon logic. Men are shamans and brujos. Magic is not female nor feminine. Evil happens in all genders. So does power.

So in order to make the story fit Girl Bossdom, you have to kill all the details, all the flavor, all the morality. Because folklore and horror are full of morality tales, you can't crush the elements and grind them into Nutrient Paste: Girlboss Flavor. it's discordant. it feels wrong to anyone of the culture, anyone who knows.

you cannot meet a culture halfway by demanding it echo your own morality exactly.

so as an author, at least in tradpub, at least to get the big distribution and the PR push--

in the name of own voices, you must destroy the substance of the culture you're bringing to the table.

now, horror of a non-White flavor, with a literary bent, is the exact niche I'm trying to move into, so this is disheartening. do I think this author is selling out? yes. worse: is it working? absolutely.

that's the market I have to exist in? no nuance, no authenticity, just window dressing, you must throw the men of color into the sacrificial pile, make sure they're all clowns? scrub the magic off the magic, reduce it to MCU friendly sky beams? gross. also boring. but ugh.

[theloverofdragons]

The Void War

The stars in the deep purple sky of the Void winked down at Tomix as he leant over the railings of one of the balconies of the Void Ship. They were close, so close, to reaching Envy and he could finally complete his quest, even though that meant he had to…

The sound of approaching footsteps made him turn his head, and despite his sombre mood, his lips quirked up at the sight of the Hero. "Hey. How's Pandora?"

"She's…calmer," the Hero rubbed the back of their neck. "She's still pretty emotional after regaining her memories – and as she's the Elemental Spirit of Woe, she tends to feel that particular emotion pretty strongly – but she's determined to help us stop Envy."

"I'm glad to hear it," Tomix nodded, turning back to watch the sky.

The Hero bit their lip as they examined him, noting his paler skin and dimmer eyes, concern for the wellbeing of one of their closest friends welling up inside them. "How are you holding up?"

Tomix sighed deeply, hanging his head and closing his eyes. "I'm tired, Hero. I'm so very tired... I've been on this quest since I was just a kid. Thirteen years. Thirteen long years and my journey is finally at its end. He's the only one left." Opening his eyes, he raised his head again and inhaled deeply. "You know, I sometimes wonder what my life would be if I had not released them. The six corrupted spirits and... Aspar. I'd graduate from Edelia, travel the world, find a partner." His lips curved into a small smile. "We'd get married, open up a small weaving shop, age together, get fat and have many children."

The Hero snickered.

The smile vanished and Tomix sagged against the railing, looking as tired as he said he was. "And instead my life is a series of unfortunate events."

The Hero stepped forwards so they were alongside him. "Surely there must have been at least one good event?"

Tomix paused before turning to look at them. "You."

"Me?"

The small smile returned. "Yeah. After we met, during my hunt for Greed, I was always looking forward to your arrival in Ravenloss. I've really enjoyed adventures with you. It was good having someone else watch your back."

The Hero blushed slightly before grinning. "Hey now, we'll have many more new adventures ahead of us after we banish Envy!"

Tomix's expression dropped again and he turned back to face the Void before his eyes widened. "We're here!"

****

The Void Ship circled the strange building of towers and corridors, with the swirling purple and black Void Core situated in the middle, sending up a beam of lighter purple light. The ship was keeping its distance and Tomix had sent Aegis to have a look at the building's layout, so the crew could plan their next move.

A flash of icy blue light alerted the Soulweaver that his SoulAlly had returned. "Good, you're back! How are things?"

"Give me a second," Aegis raised his hand and began to draw a birds-eye map of the structure from ice, revealing several large corridors circling around the open centre, with the Void Ship at the entrance. "There. No one has spotted me, and I got a good view of the entire structure. This is how it looks like from the top." At Aegis's direction, the open centre began to glow softly. "The core is here." The square block in front of the centre began to glow. "The chamber is the only way leading to it." Next to glow was a block of ice connecting the ship and the chamber. "This corridor goes straight into the main chamber." The two corridors on either side of the main corridor lit up. "These two corridors on both sides do not connect to the main chamber itself, however...The door leading into the main chamber appears to be enchanted by Envy. It is engulfed by a weird, swirling green energy."

Aegis dissipated the map and turned the face the rest of the crew. "All the corridors are swarming with void creatures. And... that's not all. These two corridors that I've mentioned... there is an ‘unlocking mechanism’ at the end of each of them..."

Tomix frowned. "How can you possibly know this? Envy wouldn't be that daft."

Aegis sighed, his expression twisting slightly. "Because... it literally says 'unlocking mechanism' in big, bright letters...over the two human beings who are connected by this weird green energy to the door."

Izaac gasped, his eyes widening in horror. "Oh Avatars, I know what Envy did..."

"What?" Riadne asked in trepidation

"Seal of Ativa!" Izaac choked out. "He used the very existence of those two people in order to lock the door shut. The only way to unlock them is to– "

"–Kill those two people..." Tomix finished, expression tightening.

The Hero snarled. "That's sick!" Through their bond, they felt a pang of intense sadness from Pandora and they brushed their fingers over the cube by their side. ‘It's not your fault Pandora, I promise. He did this himself, and we will stop him!'

"There has to be another way to unlock it!" Riadne insisted.

Izaac shook his head. "No, you don't understand. Seal of Ativa is one of the few legendary and forbidden magics. Magics like this don't have any loopholes. You can't break their rules."

Tomix clenched his fists as Aegis rested his hand on his shoulder, sending support through their bond. "We are too close to back up now! I am aware that this whole situation is sick, but we have to do this... we are too close..."

" I will do it," Yashta intoned solemnly.

"Blimey! And so will I," Captain Mazurek added. "I did worse thin's than that."

Riadne whirled round to face them. "I... can't believe you people are even considering this! What's wrong with you?!"

Mazurek scowled. "Sweetie, leave sailing t' the sea legs."

"Stop fighting!" The Hero broke in. "We have to be united, now more than ever!" Once things had calmed down, they nodded and turned to Tomix. "Okay. We all need to do this together. Tomix, what's the plan?"

Tomix watched the building in the distance. "I'm fighting my way through the middle corridor to the door. Hero, Aegis, you're in?"

Aegis and the Hero nodded determinedly. "Absolutely."

****

As Aegis had promised, all three corridors were packed with Void spawn. Izaac, Riadne, Yashta and the Soulweavers had gone down the left hand corridor and Mazurek, her crew and Vaal had taken the right, leaving the Hero, the Dragon, Tomix and Aegis to go down the middle.

A Void elemental lunged at the Hero, but they dodged out of the way. "Oh you, stop ticking me!" they smirked before finishing the elemental off. Next to them, Tomix was completing his retribution attack to defeat a Decadere youngling.

A group of Void monsters decided to charge at once at the Hero, hoping to overwhelm them but in a flash of white and yellow light, Pandora appeared before them, armed with a large scythe with a rainbow blade and her sigil in the middle of it. Twirling the scythe in her grip, she proceeded to hurl in at the approaching enemies, with the scythe turning into a spinning disc that sliced through them all before returning to her grasp.

"Wow!" the Hero whistled appreciatively. "Nice moves, Pandora!" Their SoulAlly smiled in thanks and the Hero turned their head to check on Tomix before their eyes widened as another Decadere youngling tried to attack the Soulweaver's turned back. "Tomix, look out!"

Tomix whirled around but before the monster could attack him, Aegis appeared and batted the Void creature away with his shield. "Thanks, Aegis."

The elemental spirit grinned. "I've got your back!"

A flicker of pain passed over Tomix's face and he lowered his head as memories of when he and Aspar were bonded, when he thought his best friend had his back the way that Aegis did now, filled his head. Fortunately, he was jerked out of the painful trip down memory lane as one of the communication balls that Eirn had given them on the ship crackled into life.

"Hello? Is this working? Hello?"

"Yes!" Tomix replied. "Izaac?"

"Tomix, bad news. We lost a few Soulweavers and the majority of them are injured. Riadne's patching them up and Yashta is doing his best to keep us safe, but there are simply too many Void creatures. We have to go back!"

"Izaac, please... you can't..." Tomix implored. We're so close…we have to stop him…I have to…

"What's going on?" The Hero asked, fighting their way over to Tomix as Pandora and Aegis kept any approaching Void monsters from attacking while the two of them talked.

Tomix hung his head. "Yashta's team isn't doing well, Izaac wants to retreat."

The Hero glanced at the two elemental spirits. "Could Aegis help?"

Tomix exhaled shakily. "You're right; he could. Are you alright with that, Aegis?"

"Of course!"

Tomix nodded and turned back to the Hero. "I don't know why I didn't think of that…"

"You're under a lot of stress," the Hero reassured him. "You take a moment to catch your breath while I sort this out, then we can get back to fighting, okay?"

"Yes…thank you, Hero."

The Hero turned to the communication balls. "IZAAC, CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Gaaah... yes!" Izaac yelped. "You don't have to yell!"

"Oh, okay. Listen, we're sending Aegis over to you, he'll make an ice wall between you and the creatures. You'll be able to rest and gather your strength."

"That would be very helpful master!" Yashta's voice sounded over the speakers.

The Hero scowled. "Stop calling me master!"

"Apologies. That would be helpful, Hero."

Aegis gave Tomix and the Hero a thumbs up before teleporting away with a flash of ice.

"Now, excuse me," the Hero turned to Tomix and grinned before calling their dragon. "Let's go!" The two of them charged towards the enemy lines and Tomix allowed himself a small smile before returning to the communication balls.

"Maz?"

"I be a wee busy dear."

Tomix frowned slightly. "How are things on your side? Is Vaal helping at all? Is he fighting?"

"Oh, he be fightin' alright..." Mazurek replied, sounding very amused. "But wit' his Soul Lass."

Tomix blinked. "His... what?"

From the background of the speakers he could just about hear a very irritated female voice. "...And you're summoning me after five years, expecting me to help you?!"

"Alee, this is NOT the right time for this!" Vaal protested. "I need Transcendence! I need my weapon to defend myself! Or would you rather let me die?!"

"I really don't care."

"TRANSCENDENCE!" Vaal bellowed.

Evidently, Vaal's SoulAlly acquiesced as Mazurek gave a hearty laugh. "Yarr, we be doin' great darlin'."

"Erm... alright," Tomix shook his head as his brain raced to catch up with what had happened. "Keep me updated." Allowing himself another small smile, he raced to catch up with the Hero as they continued to defeat the Void monsters with their Dragon and Pandora by their side.

"Everyone okay?"

"Yes; Aegis will help Izaac's team and Mazurek's team is good to fight together, now that Vaal has stopped squabbling with his 'Soul Lass', as Maz put it."

"I…see," the Hero raised their eyebrow before grinning. "You'd never catch me fighting with my Soul Lass, would we Pandora?"

For the first time since the island that held her memories, Pandora let out a tinkling laugh.

Tomix let out a small chuckle (how long had it been since he had laughed? Not since he had found out that…) as he and the Hero ran forwards together into battle. "We're halfway through, let's go."

****

They didn't know how long it took to defeat the rest of the Void creatures but eventually, Tomix and the Hero reached the doors to the chamber. Aegis had rejoined them a while back – with Pandora returning to her cube so her presence didn't cause any mishaps, although she would emerge every so often to deal with a group of Void creatures with her scythe – and Izaac and Mazurek had alerted them over the communication balls that the seals had been lifted, although Mazurek's message had come with the added problem that Vaal had run off.

"Tomix, the doors!" the Hero pointed as they paused to catch their breath. "They're open!"

Tomix hung his head sadly. "But at a cost of two innocent lives..."

The Hero placed their hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "They will be remembered, and they will be honoured. We can't save everybody. But their demise will not go unnoticed. Envy will pay for this, Tomix. He will."

"The Hero is right," Aegis nodded solemnly. " After all this is over, I can search for their souls and notify their families."

Tomix inhaled deeply, collecting himself, before raising his head again and adopting a look of determination. "Let's go–"

"You can't," a voice broke in, and three figures stepped into the doorway, blocking their path.

Tomix scowled. "More of Aspar's minions?!"

The Hero folded their arms. "Let me guess..." They looked at the dark green humanoid gargoyle, the one who had spoken. "You are Green..." Next they turned to what looked like a fusion of a basilisk and a human. "You are Brown-ish- Red..." Finally they turned to the final minion, a moglin with a human face. "And you arOHMYGOODNESSWHATAREYOU?!"

"I'm very sorry," Green intoed. "But we can't let you through."

Tomix snarled. "Well I'm sorry too, because I don't care!"

The battle that followed was long and hard – Envy had obviously prioritised fighting skills in his minions that made it very inconvenient for whomever they were fighting – but eventually they were defeated, Red and Blue having dissolved the way Yellow had.

Green had sunk to his knees. "I have failed...but it's okay..." A wry smile formed on his lips. "I'm free."

Tomix looked down as Green shattered into pieces. "Now we can go, come on!"

"Tomix, I think we should wait for the rest of the crew," the Hero cautioned. "We don't know how exactly strong Envy is..."

"I think that is wise," Aegis added. "I shall go and check to see how far away they are."

"Okay…" Tomix nodded reluctantly as Aegis vanished. "But we can't wait too– "

Before he could finish his sentence, the building shook with an ominous rumble.

The Hero glanced around them. "That doesn't sound good. The more of us there are to confront him, the more likely we are to be able to stop him."

Tomix's chest was heaving and his eyes flashed about wildly. "No…NO! AEGIS!"

A block of ice materialised and fell away to reveal Aegis, looking rather confused. "Is everything–?"

"Synchronisation!" Tomix yelled, desperation colouring the edges of his tone.

Aegis frowned in concern. "Tomix, we've never tried it. Besides in your current state, synchronisation would be very unwise…"

"PLEASE!" Tomix begged, his voice breaking.

Aegis met Tomix's eyes before bowing his head and nodding, resting his hand on Tomix's chest. There was a flash of icy blue light, as it looked like Aegis melted into Tomix's body before it cleared to reveal the Soulweaver standing there, eyes and hands glowing white and blue, a helmet like the one Aegis wore over his head, the colour back in his face but the corruption from his shattered SpiritLooms having worsened and spread down to his elbows.

"I don't care if there are more minions in my way," Tomix declared, voice echoing slightly and sounding like a mix of his normal voice and Aegis'. "I'M GOING!" With a flash, he shot off into the chamber, only leaving behind the faint blue glows of his figure.

"TOMIX!" the Hero yelled after their friend. "Damn…we need to go after him. Are you two with me?" The Dragon gave a determined chirp and Pandora murmured 'Always' over their bond. The Hero nodded before running after Tomix. "He doesn't have to do this alone."

****

Disclaimer: DragonFable is owned by Artix Entertainment. Dialogue taken from ‘Void War Intro’, ‘Halfway Through’ and ‘Through The Door’.

Also on AO3 and FFN

[absolutebl]

quick pitch (well, maybe not *quick*) 

Semantic Error (Korea 2022) 

Main Tropes: opposites attract, enemies to lovers, bully romance, sunshine/tsundere, teasing & pranks

Ya’ll ready for this? 

Maybe you are, but I’m not sure I am. 

I don’t think I’m going to go quite so crazy as I did with My Beautiful Man but I make no promises.  

Okay look, I said when I reviewed Light on Me, that Korea was giving us an honest to goodness high school set BL with some classic old school yaoi tropes almost as if they were doing a bit of a, “now that we’ve hit our stride, let’s perfect the vanilla sheet cake BL style.” It was great, of course, but very refined and elegant which some found off putting. 

I feel like they did it again with Semantic Error. Only maybe even a little better? Okay maybe not better but DIFFERENT. 

Everything that Korea always does right, they did right with this show. 

Spot on and pretty pretty casting of mature actors who can handle the content. 

High quality production values with beautiful filming and flawless sound quality. 

Great wardrobe, lighting, staging, editing, and everything else pre and post production being well chosen and executed. 

Great friendship group and support characters. 

Strategic use (but not overuse) of tropes. 

This was an absolutely pitch perfect university set BL, just very very Korean about it. It had all the hallmarks of old school traditional yaoi, linear filming and framing techniques combined with classic archetypes including a strong seme/uke dynamic. But it was so pleasingly pristine and tailored about its approach. 

I particularly loved that it used old school yaoi storyboarding, probubly because bits are (quite rightly) cribbed directly from the manhwa. But just look at this shot, plus added color blocking? LOOK AT IT!!! GAH! 

If Light On Me was a fluffy delicious vanilla sheet cake, Semantic Error is the perfectly baked moist and decadent red velvet cupcake. 

A little richer, a little more depth, that creamy cheesy frosting. Maybe not the most innovative, maybe not as complex as we might like, but so well executed it was like classical french cooking... you can’t argue with perfection you can only gobble it down and then be sad you ate so fast. 

Semantic Error is a webtoon (also anime) adaptation, in which Korea entered Thailand’s terf for the first time with college set battle of the geeks. The anime has no plot so I was a little worried. Silly me. I should just trust WATCHA (Light On Me) at this point. 

Yes WATCHA, you have ALL the techniques. Yes, you have all the skills. And you know what, sometimes that’s all we really need in a BL. 

We are so grateful. 

What elevates Semantic Error is that Korea did things right with this one that they usually fuck up. 

They got the pacing spot on for the shorter length. It never felt rushed. 

They managed a tight *complete* story with nothing confusing about intent, purpose, or character motivation.

And we got actual amazingly good chemistry and kisses. 

They left us with a smile and a chuckle and a pair of the cutest boys ever to grace the screen. 

This is probubly going to be my favorite BL of 2022. And yes, for all the reasons stated above but also THE CHARACTERS. 

Jaeyoung + Sangwoo FOREVER 

The plot:

Talented graphic artist Jaeyoung (emotional agro older seme) discovers Sangwoo has outed him as a slacker which means he’s not graduating this year. He sets out to find out who Sangwoo is and get revenge, accidentally develops a big o’crush. Sangwoo is a morally grounded strict routine based reserved programmer (logical uke) who’s world is entirely shaken by the chaos that is Jaeyoung. I love “the only one who can bully him is me” trope especially when said bully melts into all over whipped for his boy. 

Emotional seme versus logical uke is a favorite of mine, plus it goes way back to some Gilgamesh shit of ego versus id. I also love “the only one who can bully him is me” trope. Also I adore it when an agro seme (bratty fucker) develops a big o’ crush, commences pining, and goes all over whipped for his boy. 

Jaeyoung pined like a master. Like Park Seo Ham took lessons from Sam Lin. And Sangwoo crumbles into complete submission like he’s been waiting for Jaeyoung his whole life. It’s an absolute pleasure to watch these two on screen together. 

And it wasn’t just him, For those of us who waited patiently for Sangwoo to soften, boy did he ever. What a marshmallow moment! Poor baby went into deep crush and had NO IDEA what to do about it. 

Moot pining, yes! 

There were even moments that made me hoot with laughter (the lettuce incident). 

This is it. 

Semantic Error has put the sugar rose on top of Korea’s intent to dominate BL. After the flop ending of Kissable Lips and the lingering trauma of Peach of Time, we all thought we were back on shaky ground with KBL, but nope Korea’s taking the gold. 

So yeah, maybe this is a little tame and calm of a review from me. But their ducks were all in a row on this one, and I kinda expected them to stick the landing. (Ooo, mixed metaphors. Now I’m imagining s duck doing gymnastics.) How do I really feel?

Shaken & stirred, thank you very much. 

You want me to freak out? Yeah. Okay. Fine. 

THIS FUCKING BL IS AMAZING!

IT’S GREAT. IT’S ALREADY A CLASSIC AND WILL BECOME A HALLMARK OF THE GENRE. 

I HAVE TO REDO ALL MY TOP TEN LISTS. 

Flipping heck. 

Welcome to the very limited table of 10 gold stars from this mad obsessive fan. 

Semantic Error gets a 10/10 from me. 

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

I love this show so hard. And it is going into hard rotation. Completely rewatchable from start to finish. We have been blessed. Thank you Korea. 

*deep breath*

In brief: 

Korea hits it entirely out of the Parks (pun on the actors’ last names intended) by doing a university set BL with everything we might expect done exactly right, their signature quality executed perfectly, and added bonus good story, great pacing, and fantastic chemistry. You cannot ask for more from a BL, let alone a KBL. 

(source)

(Because I got asked, my 7 top 10/10s are now: Seven Days, Color Rush, Light On Me, To My Star, Semantic Error, We Best Love, Until We Meet Again... (Both Absolute BLs got a 10/10 too but I consider that a parody not an actual BL.) 

[villainous-thorn]

prompt 23 by @autocrats-in-love

The hero frowned at the villain.

“And it’s the same nightmare…every night?”

The villain sighed at the hero, who they believed to be their therapist.

“Yes. The hero kisses me, I realize I’m madly in love with them, they’re devoured by a slice of cake. What are you not getting?”

cw: slightly suggestive

Hero cleared their throat, trying to maintain some modicum of professionalism, “Which part of the dream is the worst for you?”

“Well obviously the part where I realize I’m madly in love. That surely would never happen, I never let my emotions get the better of me.” Villain explained, a hint of sarcasm leaking into their tone, thankfully the hero didn’t pick up on it.

THAT'S THE PART? Hero’s mind shouted, they wanted to rip their hair out. Okay okay focus.

“Are you simply saying that because you’re afraid to want something you feel you cannot have? Is this part of why you reject your emotions?”

“I… Perhaps.” Villain’s face was scrunched up, deep in thought. There were many reasons they hid their emotions from everyone, including themselves, it was exhausting to think about.

“Would you prefer to, uh, act on these emotions more often? The positive ones, I mean.”

“I… suppose I would like to try.” Villain shifted uncomfortably in their seat, not making eye contact with their ‘therapist’. “But, what if I’m rejected and can’t hold in the negative feelings?”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, I’m sure you can be… persuasive.” Hero held themselves back from adding a wink, that surely wouldn’t be appropriate behavior, right? Though, their behavior had been slipping into the ‘inappropriate’ section very slowly throughout the session.

The villain’s face still flushed, pointedly looking at the floor. “Okay, what if they- what if I am getting my feelings confused? What if there’s nothing there and my brain is crossing wires and getting things mixed up? What if I don’t actually like the way they laugh and smile and the sound of their voice and the way their nose crinkles when they get angry and just-?” The villain continued ranting as Hero zoned out. Did Villain really think all those things about them? Also when did Villain get so close to them on the couch?

Hero had no idea how they’d descended to this point, but their ego had been stroked and they were pressing their luck and pulling the lever on a broken slot machine.

“How about this; you kiss me and pretend I’m Hero and see if you feel anything. I don’t have a partner so there’s no problem there.” They interrupted the criminal’s ramblings.

Aaaaaaand there’s the descent into blatant ‘inappropriate’ behavior, great. Flawless logic Hero, you don’t sound deranged at all! This is absolutely what any therapist would do!

“Are you sure?” The criminal asked with faux-innocence.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it and want to.” Hero tried to contain their excitement for the moment, as Villain brought their bodies even closer together.

Then Villain leaned in and their surprisingly soft lips met Hero’s, it was perilously tender, and the way Villain moved their lips made it all the more tempting to try to deepen the kiss. Fortunately, and shockingly, the criminal parted their mouth slightly, their tongue skimming across Hero’s lips to gain entry. Hero hesitantly accommodated, and fuck, Villain was a damn good kisser. The ‘therapist’ was finding it increasingly more difficult to cage their sounds of desire, mercifully the Villain pulled away.

“You taste just like my dreams.” They whispered, eyes still closed.

Hero was taken aback, “W- what?” they croaked out, barely maintaining their composure.

The criminal’s eyes shot open and they grinned wide and charming, “What, you thought I didn’t know, Hero?” They pouted dramatically.

Hero was stunned, frozen in their seat.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuckkkkkkkkkk

The corner of Villain’s mouth tugged into a smirk as they threw a leg around their Hero, straddling their lap on the couch. Touching Hero’s body with deviously delicate fingers, from their face to their neck to their chest and finally down their abdomen as Villain simply let hot puffs of air out, hitting Hero in simmering waves.

Villain leaned in, nose brushing Hero’s exposed neck making them grip the criminal’s hips with a whiteknuckle need. Hero was using every last sliver of their will to keep themselves composed, but it was becoming devastatingly more difficult, especially with the little nips Villain was now peppering around Hero’s throat.

“Y’see, I don’t really need a therapist. I’m not mad… I’m just madly in love with you, Hero.” A whine escaped Hero’s lips before Villain continued, “Just make sure to keep an eye out for a really big slice of cake, yeah?” They chuckled against Hero’s soft skin.

The whole world was spinning and toppling over, crumbling around Hero. And suddenly Villain’s lips were on theirs again, and then their tongues in each other’s mouths, and this better not be a dream or Villain would be pissed.

[anjumstar]

feel it in my body, know it in my mind

warnings: 18+ minors dni, mostly top!Deku, bottom!Bakugou, switching, anal sex, oral sex, biting, exhibitionism, medically inadvisable decisions, having sex while sick, dirty talk, light praise kink

rating: explicit

pairing: dekubaku

word count: 18.5k

summary: Five times that Katsuki and Izuku probably shouldn’t have sex and one time that they absolutely should.

a/n: This, folks, is arguably too much smut. It’s all pwp. But here it is, beta’d by my lovely, lovely friend, @/silver-weasel​, who assisted me with this piece from the moment where the idea hit me all the way to today. Additional thanks to @/spacelabrathor​, who sent in the prompt requests that were supposed to be for drabbles OOPS. And thank you to me, for, after nine years, finally writing a 5+1 fic 😌

master list

one

It’d been seven years since Izuku first broke his bones for sport in front of the former class 1-A, and finally, Katsuki was starting to understand Izuku’s motives.

Perhaps it was shortsighted to think (which tracked well with Izuku circa age fifteen), but it was an inconvenience to worry so much about injuries when the business end of the equation had a rampaging villain that had to be defeated, and the other side had a healer who, nine times out of ten, could fix the problem to an immediately workable degree.

So was breaking Katsuki’s leg the right decision? Hell yes. Something was going to break on that four-story fall, and Katsuki was always going to choose his legs to fall victim instead of the civilians who’d been his arms. A flawless victory, snapped tibia and fibula aside.

And now they were healed…mostly. He’d been in the hospital for three days, but two of those had just been sleeping off the fatigue of rapid-bone growth. And he was stuck in a boot for the week (no crutches, though, hallelujah), but Katsuki was sure that was just a conspiracy to keep him on desk work for a few days.

As it was, the rest of today was going to be spent at home. Katsuki’s eyes bleared at the dove-gray walls of his bedroom, the way he’d left the room perfectly neat before work three days ago. The only things differentiating it from the hospital was the lack of machinery and mass reproduced art on the walls. His were bare but for his curtains and mounted TV. He’d have to decorate some day.

So, as he lay down in bed (two days of bedrest and he was still fucking exhausted), he turned to his boyfriend, and said, “Fuck me.”

Izuku’s arms had been outstretched, ready to help Katsuki into bed (fuck that, he didn’t need help. He could have used his quirk and blasted himself into bed arms only, if need be), but they suddenly recoiled in and he took a sudden step back. “Wh-What?”

Katsuki was already taking off his shirt. “C’mon, I’ve barely seen you in weeks outside you showing up to see me in the damn hospital. I can’t remember the last time we fucked.”

That was a lie. He actually could remember that it had been three weeks ago (far too long, frankly, but they’d been busy. They were always busy) and it had just been a blow job and some hand stuff before Raccoon Eyes’ fucking baby shower. Luckily, it had made them late (Katsuki had a strict party policy of last in, first out, while Izuku preferred first in to help with set up, and last out to help with cleanup. This time they’d compromised and Katsuki found himself throwing away pink balloons and wrapping paper for forty-five minutes.)

“You’re injured, Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed, and Katsuki couldn’t help but scoff, one that scratched up the whole back of his throat, just for emphasis.

“You’ve punched villains stupid with both arms broken—I can be fucked stupid with a mostly healed leg.”

Izuku’s eyes narrowed against Katsuki’s flawless logic. There was nothing that Izuku could say to outwit Katsuki in this argument that, more importantly, Izuku assuredly already knew he was on the wrong side of. Because, for however much Katsuki wanted it, Izuku was almost guaranteed to want it more. Katsuki was trained in recognizing patterns in behavior and this one had been obvious for ages now.

Katsuki kept his eyes on Izuku’s as he reached for his bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube and a box of condoms (the benefits to keeping a tidy room) and held one in each hand.

Izuku exhaled (the first sign of defeat—showing a soft stomach to the enemy) and looked to the side, saying “Fuck it,” before reaching behind and pulling off his shirt as well.

A smile rose quickly to Katsuki’s face, making their first kiss as much teeth as lips and tongue as Izuku gingerly maneuvered over Katsuki, being mindful of his leg.

Katsuki began to harden in his pants immediately, looking forward to a quick, flash in the pan sex session that would leave him properly wrung out and ready for one last good sleep before a mindnumbing week of desk duty. But who knew, maybe the boring work days would leave him available for more rendezvous like this with his boyfriend than usual.

“God, I’ve missed you, Kacchan, I’m so happy you’re okay,” Izuku whispered into Katsuki’s neck as he ran his fingers around the elastic waist of Katsuki’s sweatpants. Doting boyfriend that Izuku was, he’d brought Katsuki an easy change of clothes at the hospital so that he didn’t have to stump home in his damaged hero suit. It had already been sent for repairs and would be good as new once Katsuki was cleared for action again.

Katsuki bit his lip, the onslaught already sending tingles down his neck, landing as bubbling warm fuzzies in his chest. He reached for Izuku’s shorts and pushed them down as far as he could without preamble. They landed just below the swell of Izuku’s ass, and Katsuki gave each cheek a hard squeeze. Izuku’s ass was one rare part of his body that was soft and nearly scarless; it exaggerated the roughness of every callus roughening Katsuki’s hands.

“Take ‘em off,” Katsuki growled.

“Yes, just—” Izuku trailed off, grinding his still clothed front against Katsuki’s own, fingers below the waist of both Katsuki’s pants and boxers. “You’re so warm.”

He was warm, hot, in fact. Alone in the hospital with nothing but his gown and a threadbare blanket had been regrettably cold, and the new heat was refilling him rapidly.

“Off,” Katsuki demanded again, and this time Izuku complied. He hastily kicked his shorts down his legs and off the end of the bed before attempting to do the same with Katsuki’s, only for one leg to get stuck at the boot. Izuku looked to Katsuki.

“Leave ‘em,” Katsuki said, grabbing Izuku by the hair and pulling him down for a kiss.

Katsuki bent his legs, the heavy boot making the act a little more lumbering than usual. The fabric of his pants stretched between Katsuki’s thighs, digging into the thick, resistant muscle. Frankly, he had half a mind to have Izuku tear them down the seam with One for All (or Katsuki could just burn them through himself).

But, for now, he dealt with it, as Izuku fumbled blindly for the lube and popped the cap. Izuku had never come into possession of much patience, and Katsuki didn’t have particularly much to spare at the moment. Therefore, the lube landed cold and plentiful between Katsuki’s legs before Izuku dove in to warm it up with his fingers.

After weeks, Katsuki was tight, and wouldn’t be able to do something without at least a sloppy bit of prep. But Izuku was nothing if not studied, and began curling one and then two fingers inside Katsuki almost immediately, finding the spots that made him tighten up in pleasure and then loosen in the desire for more.

As Izuku worked, Katsuki kept one hand firmly in his hair and the other moved down to his ass, pressing them hip against hip so that their cocks slotted together with moistened friction. The barrier of Katsuki’s pants was pressing against Izuku’s middle, but neither man particularly minded as they made contact everywhere else they could.

When Izuku had finally opened up Katsuki thoroughly (well, somewhat thoroughly. Thoroughly enough), Katsuki’s legs were embarrassingly weak. Blame the boot, the short dry spell, the atrophying two days in bed—Katsuki had a need. And he scratched Izuku’s working arm down the side to make that need clear.

Nonverbal communication had long been good for them, so that was all Izuku needed to pull back and slip on a condom. His oft-broken fingers weren’t the most deft, but he was practiced and motivated.

There was something Katsuki always enjoyed about that first press in after a decently long bout without sex (or sex toys). The stretch, the reminder of Izuku’s girth, the promise that Katsuki would be feeling their coupling for hours afterwards. It was worth the extra time needed with prep (really, the extra time was nothing but good unless they were in a hurry) just to have that whole experience again and again. Like the first time, but with the benefits of being trained in being good at bottoming. At having formed those delicious neural pathways that told him that yes, this was good, and it was right. It was an ancient way of people enjoying one another and he and Izuku were just the two lucky ones benefiting right now.

Izuku hissed as he bottomed out, giving away his pleasure after the long wait too. Again, Katsuki’s stupid fucking pants grew tight between them, a pink line already forming across Izuku’s middle like jagged teeth marks.

“This is bullshit,” Katsuki muttered, his leg already cold and numb at the toes from being angled away from and above the rest of his body. This fucking boot was going to be the death of him.

Izuku, seeming to agree, grabbed both of Katsuki’s legs just above the knee, and swung the good one over his shoulder while holding the boot in one hand, making his bicep ripple and flex. Then he pulled out and thrust back in and Katsuki groaned. Much better.

This was medicine. This was what the fucking hospital was missing. All thoughts about the injury and the shitty coming week of work and bothersome recovery were overwritten as Izuku worked into him, pacing slow and steady, each thrust going nearly his whole length out before finding home back inside Katsuki again. It was good to start, but Katsuki needed satisfaction.

“You don’t have to be gentle. I won’t break, fuckhead,” Katsuki breathed. His injury wasn’t in his goddamn ass, after all.

“Gimme a second,” Izuku said, but that’s all he needed as he squeezed Katsuki’s legs tight and pushed hard inside him, to the point that Katsuki could feel every angle of Izuku’s pelvic bone against his ass.

Thank you, Katsuki thought as the tension was pounded out of him. Better than any physical therapy massage he’d ever received, that was for sure. Despite being folded in half.

He just grunted and groaned, though, enjoying the way Izuku’s voice rang out over his. Where Katsuki’s noises were low and guttural, direct answers to Izuku’s thrusts hitting his core and pushing sounds out of him, Izuku’s voice was keening, increasing in volume the closer he got.

They started as little huffs, higher in pitch from the get-go than anything Katsuki produced. Then, strained “Hahs” started to form before Izuku would inevitably lose himself entirely to babbling. It was a progression Katsuki was treated to almost every time they got to make love, at least when the volume could be spared.

Katsuki coaxed the sounds out of Izuku, freeing the other man’s mouth by beginning to work his mouth down his neck, pulling a brand new, “Haah, Kacchan,” out of him.

Encouraged, Katsuki nibbled at the tender skin at the base of the throat—another rare soft spot on Izuku—coloring a bruise that his hero costume would easily cover.

“Wow, Kacchan, you’re so—”

Katsuki bit harder, Izuku’s words destroyed and turned to a thin whine before he licked up to Izuku’s ear.

Izuku moaned, hiking Katsuki’s legs up higher, pulling at the thick, tight muscles of Katsuki’s hamstrings. Damn hospital stay, keeping him out of shape. Katsuki breathed through the stretch and took one hand off of Izuku to reach down toward his own weeping cock.

Then, Izuku thrust in hard, the kind of hit to take Katsuki’s breath away, and sat there, deep as he could go. He reached under Katsuki’s pants and brushed his hand away, grabbing Katsuki firmly around the base.

“Let me, Kacchan.”

Katsuki, usually so full of defiance and rebuttals, kept his mouth shut. Teeth clenched, in fact, as he hissed, cool breath sucking between his teeth. It was almost too much—the heat of being struck by dueling pleasure, the speed of his incoming peak suddenly doubling.

“Kacchan, Kacchan,” Izuku chanted, in tune with the slap of the fleshy base of his hand hitting Katsuki’s lower abs, clenched for dear life.

“Deku,” Katsuki strained, both hands resorting to Izuku’s back, an effort to lay claim to every inch of Izuku’s skin that was yet unmarred. It was all his, his landscape to tend and burn with the seasons.

“I…” Izuku stuttered, his voice becoming stopped up and overwhelmed by everything else. “I…Kacchan.”

Izuku began stroking Katsuki with real vigor. Not a squeeze too tight, unaware of his own strength (no, Izuku was very aware of his own strength by now), but with all due speed. Speed that was only bearable from the copious globules of precome Katsuki had already drooled out. But even still, there was a slight burn from the friction that had Katsuki caught between wanting to lean in and pull away—like every other moment he’d shared with Izuku in their lives so far.

He came, suddenly and violently, streams of hot spend lashing over Izuku’s fist and Katsuki’s own stomach. And then he was tight inside, tighter than he had been to begin with, and Izuku’s voice was strangled, squeezed nearly as tight as his cock. Suddenly, there was no deeper he could go inside Katsuki, not without more drag than was comfortable in the immediate aftermath of an orgasm, so he ground in, gyrating his hips where he could before he too followed in completion.

The whimper that broke loose when Izuku finished was beautiful, the all-powerful number-one hero reduced to whines, naked and sweaty atop his lover. Izuku’s collapse wasn’t quite as boneless as usual, his skin having no opportunity to glue to Katsuki’s, sweat via sweat, as the damn sweatpants got caught between them once again.

“Stupid, fucking…” Katsuki breathed, the words lacking their usual bite as his breath slowly came back under him. “Deku, do something about my damn legs.”

“Oh,” Izuku grunted, the syllable coming out liquid, formless.

He moved Katsuki’s legs from his hand and his shoulder respectively, and the wooden creaking of Katsuki’s knees made itself known immediately. As Izuku straightened out Katsuki’s bum one, he winced, his muscles rebelling against the point of tension they’d been held at for so long.

“Oof, we should not have done that,” Izuku said, post-nut clarity coming to him as he reached for one of their discarded shirts and wiped the worst of their crime off of his hand and then Katsuki’s stomach.

“Shut up,” Katsuki said, struggling to balance his weight on his good leg and his upper back as he brought his pants and boxers back over his hips. It was never a mistake, not with them. Katsuki wouldn’t take back a single moment in love with Izuku for all the legacy in the world. He’d be more likely to give up his own life.

Izuku followed Katsuki’s lead and grabbed his shorts off the floor before snuggling in against Katsuki’s side, putting his hand against Katsuki’s chest. That relaxation that Katsuki never felt in the hospital fell heavily over him, like a weighted blanket or submerging in a sensory deprivation tank. Katsuki turned his head towards Izuku’s head, smelling the sweat over top of what lingered of his melon shampoo.

“Gotta go, Deku,” he mumbled, half of his face unmoving against his pillow. “You have actual work tomorrow.”

“You have actual work too,” Izuku protested. Though they both knew what he meant. “Wanna stay, wanna help.”

Continuing his dissent, Izuku wrapped a leg around Katsuki’s good one, and shoved his other underneath.

“Fine, you can stay, you can’t help,” Katsuki compromised, pulling a sheet half over his body. It wasn’t even that late—they’d both be up again shortly after sundown, guaranteed. Their sleep was fucked.

“Mm, okay.”

Behind that sweet smile, no one would suspect the man of telling a flat-out lie, but there he was. Lying to Katsuki’s face, and Katsuki was going to let him. Sometimes it was easier like that.

It was hard for it to feel like a lie when they were both sharing it.

two

Izuku could not look away. Physically. His eyes. Were stuck.

Not a quirk accident or anything, although Izuku considered it for a moment as his brain managed as best it could on low battery mode. But it didn’t seem likely, as his and Katsuki’s shift had yet to actually start. Yeah, no, wow, he was frozen.

“Goddamn it, Deku—every season? Seriously?”

Izuku blinked. Katsuki’s hands were clapping in front of him, the softened thwap echoing against the metal and tile of the locker room through the thick fabric of his gloves. The action, however, drew Izuku’s attention to Katsuki’s pectorals, which squeezed and unsqueezed beneath their new covering with every beat of his hands.

The thick, black material of Katsuki’s winter uniform should have rendered the definition of Katsuki’s well defined chest hidden, lacking visual depth, but no. The way that the deep V of Katsuki’s summer uniform had given way to a broad turtleneck only turned the whole game into a tease. It told Izuku’s mind to imagine what yesterday’s uniform had revealed. And that, of course, led him to imagine all the things that only he was able to see. Out of uniform. And well, then he was gone.

“Hey, shitnerd—”

“Let’s go to the showers, Kacchan,” Izuku suggested suddenly, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and wasting no time in dragging him in that direction.

The rolling of Katsuki’s eyes behind him was practically audible, sounding like God, this again and damned hero costume fetish. But his arm was pliable behind Izuku, his body easily being dragged from the lockers to the showers.

“Every fucking time, Deku,” Katsuki complained (if only for show), as Izuku dragged him into a stall and immediately fell to his knees. His kneepads rendered the action almost silent, instead highlighting the sound of Katsuki’s fly being unzipped. “I was just naked, I put on clothes, and now you wanna fuck?”

“Shh, Kacchan, careful…” There was enough growl in Katsuki’s voice that the echo probably wasn’t fully intelligible, but Izuku hardly wanted to stack risk atop risk. Even if it was a bit thrilling.

Izuku could admit that Katsuki was right; this did happen every season. Every time Katsuki switched over from summer to winter or winter to summer (winter was especially good, because then the switch back would be just a few months away), Izuku was struck, yet again, by how awesome he looked in his hero uniform. How badass, and brave, and strong, and delectable. Izuku placed his hands on the fronts of Katsuki’s thighs, wrapped his thumbs around the backs and squeezed. Then he pulled Katsuki’s still-soft cock out of the flap of his briefs, into his mouth, and began to get to work.

“Fuck, if this is all it takes…” Katsuki began, threading his fingers through Izuku’s hair, “I should—shit—take some spare costumes home.”

Izuku hummed at Katsuki’s idea, nuzzling his head up into his hands. Katsuki was already beginning to harden in Izuku’s mouth—Izuku could nearly taste the hot, throbbing pulse on his tongue as Katsuki’s cock grew heavier and heavier.

“Like that, Deku?” Katsuki goaded. “Maybe bring some to yours and mine—whatever your filthy mind wants.”

The idea of Dynamight spread atop his bed (either of their beds, or anywhere, really) was mind numbing, life shattering. Izuku could barely stand it. He whined around Katsuki’s cock, quieting only when Katsuki put a soft hand to his throat. No pressure, just a reminder.

“Quiet, dumbass, or you won’t get to do this in the spring.”

Katsuki’s grin was spread wide over his teeth, like what he’d said was a joke (both well aware that it wasn’t). Izuku hushed up, straightened his posture, and got back to work. It was easy to forget, really, while doing such a familiar activity, that they weren’t at home. They couldn’t go wild loving on each other, not here. No, this had to be quick, and efficient. Izuku could do that too.

He sucked Katsuki down in one go, quieting himself but working a strangled moan out of Katsuki. His hands wrapped around behind Katsuki, squeezing his ass just above the crease of his thighs. He pressed his fingers in hard, wanting to make up for the thick, flame retardant fabric of the pants separating them. Blue sparks flew from his fingertips and Katsuki groaned, his arm flying over his eyes as his head tilted back.

They were lucky that they could get away with this with little risk of discovery. All the sidekick teams at the agency had graduated shift times, so whole groups of heroes weren’t clocking out at the same time. So no one was likely to return from or leave for a shift right now except for them. It didn’t guarantee privacy, but it did lend Izuku some extra sense of permission.

Or maybe he’d just come to like a little danger over the years.

Izuku kept up his grip on Katsuki’s ass, his knuckles stiffening, but the contact oh so delightful as he pressed his nose against the elastic to Kastuki’s underwear. On a normal day, he’d be nosing against the trail of flaxen hair there, but not today. Today, he was with Dynamight.

“Deku,” Katsuki groaned, (maybe warned) as Izuku gave a good suck before coming up for air.

Izuku’s eyes were watering from the lack of air, the repeated intrusion in his throat, but he felt like they were twinkling. It was such an unquestionable victory to have Katsuki here, willingly taking precious moments away from hero work (time that they’d make up—Izuku swore) while Izuku could take what he wanted from the man he admired most. Whether a change in hero costume triggered it or not, he could never get enough Katsuki.

When he sunk down again, Izuku was sure that Katsuki was getting close. His eyes were screwed tight, one hand nearly ripping Izuku’s hair from the roots and the other having moved to grip the top of the stall wall. The self-satisfaction was blooming already in Izuku’s chest, giving him that much more motivation to succeed. The sooner Katsuki came, the sooner Izuku could see him as Dynamight in action. Truly, Izuku didn’t know which he wanted to see more.

Izuku trailed his tongue up Katsuki’s shaft, zigzagging over a bulging vein as he did. Then he sucked his way back down, drool escaping his mouth, probably wetting Katsuki’s uniform a little. Izuku could only imagine how sex wrecked his hair would be by the time they were done. How pink his lips would be from taking Katsuki’s cock in again and again. How visibly pleased he’d be to anyone who saw them once they started their shift.

“Fuck, Deku, I’m cumming,” Katsuki groaned, head hitting metal behind him.

Pain blossomed along Izuku’s scalp as Katsuki gave one last tug on Izuku’s hair, all while keeping the man in place on his cock. Izuku thrilled at it, head feeling light and empty as he swallowed and swallowed down Katsuki’s load.

When Izuku finally slid off Katsuki’s cock, already softening again, he looked up at Katsuki with heavy eyes and a lazy smile twerking half of his mouth. “Mm, thank you, Kacchan.”

He zipped Katsuki’s fly back up and allowed Katsuki to lift him from under his arms, putting them face to face again. Izuku’s cheeks were hot, the lack of oxygen having caused a blood rush to his face, but they seemed to flush all over again as he saw the front of Katsuki’s hero costume once more.

“Really, Deku?” Katsuki demurred, though his voice was probably a little breathier than he would have preferred. He got closer so that his breath was right on Izuku’s neck. “Already can’t handle it?”

He gave Izuku’s straining erection a few good palms, kissing him on the lips as he did so. He could assuredly taste those bitter, salty notes coating Izuku’s tongue, but that had never stopped either of them before. He pulled away, lips a little pink now to match both of their faces.

“Take care of you later, Deku.”

three

“Deku,” Katsuki growled, anger already blooming. “You’re supposed to be ready to go.”

Katsuki was certain, certain, that he’d instructed Izuku to be ready, in his costume, twenty minutes before they had to leave. Of course, that twenty minutes that he’d factored in had been just in case the nerd failed at his task (he was known all around their agency and indeed the whole hero network for getting in the zone with a task and having to be reminded of meetings, meals, and, of course, dates.)

“The rankings have already been made, Kacchan,” Izuku said, casually opening the door to let Katsuki in. “They’re not determined by when we get there.”

Izuku’s face was pink, his forehead just a little bit shiny, and Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “You sick or something?”

“No, just come in, Kacchan.”

Katsuki bent down to take off his shoes, the whole chore feeling like a waste of time before he even got to the first buckle. He was donning his hero costume sans accessories. He’d have duds on for the actual ceremony (no need for live grenades on his belt for a froufrou ceremony, even if his hips felt bare and hollow without them) and they simply were not wearable in the car.

When he was through, the boots heavily discarded, Izuku pulled Katsuki from the genkan and kissed him before Katsuki’s feet were even flat on the ground. It was not a welcome home kiss, nor a congrats on being the number two hero in Japan kiss. This was a riled up Izuku trying to start something with Katsuki kiss. Katsuki pulled back.

“You’re supposed to be getting dressed, idiot.”

“But, Kacchan, I prepared.”

“You’re not prepared, you’re wearing a t-shirt that says dressed up and has a hole in the shoulder.”

Katsuki stuck his pinky in the hole, making it stretch wider as the thin threads pulled and snapped.

“No, Kacchan,” Izuku said, taking Katsuki’s hand off his shoulder, and threading their fingers together. “I prepared.”

Katsuki blinked, Izuku’s words no more elucidating on the second listen than the first. “Say something helpful, Deku.”

Izuku leaned in again, his mouth drawing towards Katsuki’s ear, his breath tickling the shell.

Whispering had never made sense to Katsuki before Izuku. Before Izuku, he’d never shared secrets, shared intimacy. He’d never had anything to say that couldn’t be yelled. But that was different now, so he leaned in as Izuku said, “I want you.”

He recoiled. “Deku, no. We’ve got places to be, and my ass didn’t sign up for—”

“No, Kacchan,” Izuku put a hand on Katsuki’s chest, and the way that Izuku’s eye sparkled with excitement up at him kept him from barreling on anyway, “I want you to take me.”

Katsuki’s mouth dried. “Wha—” he started, clearing his throat, “What are you talking about.”

“I prepared, Kacchan!” Izuku said, his excitement overwhelming his seduction. “I’ve been practicing for weeks!”

“And you thought now was the right time?” Katsuki’s voice went up in pitch, higher than he would have liked, but couldn’t help it. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting when he’d come to pick Izuku up.

“Prepping took longer than I thought,” Izuku said, that blush that had been present since he’d answered the door deepening and ripening. “You do a lot of work.”

Katsuki stared dryly at him. Of course he did.

The thing was, they’d tried this before. Ages ago, at the beginning. They’d tried that arrangement, and, well, it hadn’t been successful. So, they’d fallen into their way of doing it, and Katsuki was satisfied with it. It wasn’t like things were stale—no, whatever words described what things felt like between them, it was anything but stale. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t consistent, but it was what Katsuki wanted. He was what Katsuki wanted. However he got him.

But it wasn’t that he didn’t want things…the other way. He’d just taken it off the table. But with Izuku looking at him, so excited in a way that Katsuki didn’t think that he’d see. No nervousness or uncertainty. And twenty minutes really wasn’t that short a time if he’d already prepared…

“Fuck, alright,” Katsuki said, pushing Izuku backward with one hand and unclicking his belt with the other. “Towel, lube, condom, and set an alarm on your phone. Twenty minutes—nineteen.”

Izuku grinned. “Yes, Kacchan!”

He took long, fast strides toward his bedroom, tapping his phone with one and and pulling Katsuki behind him with the other, like he’d get lost. Like they hadn’t fucked on or against nearly every surface of that apartment, like they hadn’t fucked in most of the ways the two of them could think of. Except this way.

It turned out that Izuku had already set out all the necessary props, coloring Izuku’s use of the word prepared a different way. Katsuki could have his head for dropping this on him when they were on a time crunch, but it could also be a blessing in disguise; Katsuki wasn’t convinced he’d be able to last very long.

Izuku’s shirt was already coming off, his lounge pants soon to follow—he wasn’t about to waste any of their limited time. Katsuki’s costume was a bit more of a hassle, though he’d never been more grateful to not have his accessories on. His pants fell to the floor with a clang, and his shirt fell softly after. Then the two men were tumbling into bed, Katsuki atop Izuku in a position of newfound power.

Every part in sex had power, because every part held danger. Katsuki was acutely aware of the twin power and responsibility one had when topping in anal sex—he’d learned it with Izuku. And, for a guy who didn’t often feel nervous, it was troubling to look down at the man underneath him and feel it in his palms, an unsteadying rush of adrenaline tingling down his limbs.

“Are you okay with this, Kacchan?” Izuku asked when the silence went on too long, brushing his fingers lightly through the hair right past Katsuki’s temple. “We don’t have to do it now—I probably shouldn’t have sprung—”

“It’s fine, idiot, I just needed a minute.”

Izuku grinned cheekily. “We have about seventeen.”

“Fuck, let’s get on with it,” Katsuki said, diving in.

“Okay,” Izuku replied, and the sound was immediately swallowed by Katsuki’s mouth.

They kissed for a moment, chapped lips meeting against chapped lips. There was always a bit of roughness between them, even at their most tender. The scars and calluses on their skin, the drag of the towel underneath them, separating them from Izuku’s soft blue, yellow, and red, sheets. Katsuki trailed down Izuku’s neck, earning a warm hum out of the other man, finding softness where he could. Kissing, Katsuki could do, always.

Izuku gasped, his breath already coming up short as Katsuki lowered himself and sucked against his nipple. “God, I love you.”

“Mm,” Katsuki hummed against Izuku’s warm skin. “Me too.”

Katsuki wanted to take his time, slowly take Izuku apart so that he could enjoy the rise, get that much higher so that the fall would be that much better (it was always better that way for Katsuki). The idea of this time being a negative sequel to their first attempts, or the rougher times that Katsuki had experienced bottoming made his chest ache. He only ever wanted to be good for Izuku.

He’d promised to never cause him pain again.

So Katsuki reached down to feel what exactly Izuku had done for prep. The amount of lube that had been used was apparent before Katsuki even made it to the cleft of Izuku’s ass—it was spread to the cheeks, even making it a bit down his thighs. Silicone-based, if the lasting power was anything to go off of.

“You don’t have to do much,” Izuku breathed. “I stretched too.”

“Fuck, I woulda loved to see that, Deku,” Katsuki groaned, catching Izuku’s mouth once more as he reached for the lube—for his own fingers if nothing else. And, of course, eventually his cock, which was already rising right on schedule with their time crunch.

“Next time,” Izuku promised, biting Katsuki’s lower lip before pulling away with wide eyes. “Oops, marks.”

For once, Katsuki found himself wishing that he wasn’t in the top ten. That he wasn’t on that stage he’d been dreaming of his whole life (despite the fact that the ceremony had only been around for seven years). Then he wouldn’t have to worry about his lips looking like he’d just kissed his boyfriend for hours, or else downed a bottle of red wine. He wouldn’t be concerned about being late and could make love to Izuku all evening. But no, his lifelong dream was a cockblocker, twisted and cruel.

When he sank a slick finger inside Izuku, it was familiar. Even if he’d never fucked Izuku before, ass play had never been off the table—though he’d never been so wet and open before. He kept his eyes on Izuku’s face, watching for any sign of discomfort, any sign of pain. But there were only smiling and soft little groans. He was moving like he did on the uncommon mornings Katsuki allowed himself to sleep over, waking up happy to see the world.

“You can be rough—I can take it,” Izuku said, wiggling his hips as though demanding that Katsuki do more.

“Like fuck you can,” Katsuki scoffed, prodding further with a second finger and earning himself a gasp.

“I can,” Izuku fought back. “Do three.”

Katsuki did, keeping his eyes on Izuku the whole time and God if the sight didn’t make him hard. Izuku was biting his lip, feet flexed at the ankles, hands over his head, clutching the pillows. Over the years, Katsuki had witnessed Izuku in all forms of pain, physical and mental—this wasn’t either of those. Katsuki wanted to know how long Izuku had been practicing this, was seeping precome at the thought of Izuku teasing himself for weeks now, even months, in preparation of taking Katsuki.

“Been thinking about me while you stuff yourself, nerd?” Katsuki asked as he thrust three fingers, feeling around for what brought out the best reactions in Izuku, memorizing them for later.

“I’m always thinking about you, Kacchan,” he breathed, the words falling out like rain from clouds, fast and true.

That was it—Katsuki had to have him. He would have liked to have worked Izuku for longer, but Izuku had been right; he’d prepped himself well beforehand. Any longer would have only been indulgence—indulgence that he planned to take and take and take in the future.

“Fuck, Deku,” Katsuki groaned, pulling out his fingers and kissing Izuku hard on the mouth. Hard not because it felt better that way, but to remind Izuku what he did to him. That Katsuki wanted to absolutely devour him at every moment. That he was an absolute bastard for doing this just before the biggest event of the year.

“Please, Kacchan, please, I’ve waited so long.”

“Impatient asshole,” Katsuki grumbled as he reached for the condom. “Couldn’t have waited till the party was over.”

“I really couldn’t.” Izuku grinned, eyes staring as he watched Katsuki roll the condom over himself. The first time he’d done it in ages.

The nerves were back again, starting in his fingers, though he managed the condom with no problem. But then he looked back at Izuku and that familiar feeling of expectation that had painted his whole life drenched him in a second, giving him pause. This wasn’t something he was practiced at. He knew what to do, obviously, and he’d been on the receiving end of it enough times to have a good idea of how to get it right. But he wasn’t used to doing things without practicing. Practicing until he couldn’t get it wrong, until the chances of harm were minimal.

Izuku’s body had totally rejected this the first and last time they’d tried. It had been way back at the beginning, when they’re level of comfort was nothing like it was now. When their knowledge of each other’s bodies had been novice and their communication had been ass. It was totally different. Back then, Izuku had been tied tight as a knot. Now, he was open with every meaning of the word.

Suddenly, Izuku reached for Katsuki’s hand, much the way he often did when their roles were reversed. Katsuki met him, both their knuckles pressing into the bed below. He gave a little squeeze and a nod of reassurance, and Katsuki nodded back. Alright, this was it.

Katsuki held himself in his hand and nudged his way toward Izuku’s hole. The resistance that he met right away as the head of his cock kissed the opening was nerve-wracking. But then he remembered how often this was his favorite part. Feeling Izuku, taking him in—it wasn’t always the most comfortable feeling, but it was often the most intimate. The way he was forced to go slow, to take his time and feel it out, even after this long together.

So Katsuki took his time pressing in, leaning down and resting his forehead against Izuku’s, the heat and the sweat sticking them together instantly. “Feel okay?” he asked as he was about halfway in.

“It’s good, Kacchan, really good,” Izuku responded, though his words came out stiff, like he was breathing through something. Katsuki pulled back to get a better look and was met with Izuku’s red-rimmed eyes, glittering and nearly spilling over at the corners.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, stilling his movements immediately. No harm, not towards Izuku.

“No, I’m just happy,” Izuku sniffled. He reached up with a grabby arm for the back of Katsuki’s neck and pulled him down, murmuring, “Kiss, Kacchan.”

Gratefully, Katsuki went with Izuku’s hold and kissed him languidly. Their lips slotted together, tasting each other as Katsuki sunk the rest of the way in, groaning into Izuku’s mouth.

God, this was what Izuku felt every time they had sex? The heat and the tightness and the duty? Suddenly, Katsuki was struck by the need to hold Izuku, take him apart piece by piece until he was shivering with pleasure. Sure, Katsuki always wanted to make Izuku feel good, but this was different. This was new.

Katsuki began rocking in and out, the muscles in his thighs taut as he tried to figure out the best way to do this. He wished that they had more time to get this right but, on the other hand, Katsuki had never been one to try and be the best slowly.

Exploring around with his fingers was not at all a direct analog for feeling with his dick, but Katsuki did his best to search for the places that made Izuku’s breath hitch, gasping against his mouth. It was easy when Izuku was so bad at hiding his responses, giving all those same little sounds he gave when he was on top, or when Katsuki’s mouth was wrapped around him. Maybe there wasn’t so much new to learn after all.

“More, Kacchan, more,” Izuku demanded, lifting his hips just slightly so that his scalding cock brushed against Katsuki’s stomach. “I told you I can take it.”

“You think you can take it until you suddenly can’t, dumbass,” Katsuki retorted, thinking not just of how Izuku was as a person, but what bottoming was like, whether you were new or not. Faster was not always better. “Just—fuck—trust me.”

“I do, I do,” Izuku babbled, insisted as his back arched, either really feeling it or just searching for the right spot inside of him. Katsuki couldn’t quite tell but decided to tip the scales in his favor.

Izuku keened into Katsuki’s mouth when Katsuki finally grasped his cock in his hand. Another familiar action that he could strategize with and build off of. He gave a few strokes, managed them at the same rhythm with which he was pumping into Izuku.

“God,” Izuku cried, squeezing Katsuki’s hand in his tighter. His meaty thighs came up and wrapped around Katsuki’s waist and part of his ribs. They were hard and strong, especially the muscles right around his groin, which were sharp and protruding, digging into Katsuki’s hips when they met, gripping them until he pulled back again. Katsuki thrust in and ground against Izuku, just to feel all that strength holding him closest, wanting him to give more.

“Fuck, you’re so good, Deku,” Katsuki breathed, kissing Izuku’s temple and tasting salt on the tip of his tongue. “Are you close?”

“Yes, Kacchan, I—yes.”

“Yeah? You like what I’m doing to you, Deku?”

“Always—fuck, yes, Kacchan.”

“Gonna—?”

“Yes, please, kiss me.”

Their kiss vibrated as Izuku groaned into it, finishing swiftly on Katsuki’s hand. Katsuki gasped at the feeling of Izuku suddenly clenching around him, experiencing his orgasm in an entirely different way. It was overwhelming.

Katsuki couldn’t hang on any longer. He didn’t even manage half a thrust before he was cumming hard into the condom, orgasming to the sound of Izuku’s alarm going off. All the soft, syrupy feelings he’d been enjoying suddenly crystalized and cracked, shattering to the audio of a beeping that could rouse the dead, much less two men who could barely sleep through the night as it was.

“Fuuuck,” Katsuki groaned. “Can’t even fucking bask, dammit.”

“C’mon, Kacchan,” Izuku said, patting Katsuki’s bicep. His voice was heavy, perhaps a little love drunk, but his eyes were still bright and alert as he pushed himself up to his forearms and reached to silence his phone. Izuku always had the ability to bounce back quickly, whether it was from certain defeat in battle, or overcoming the kind of refractory period adult men were supposed to have.

“God fucking dammit,” Katsuki grumbled, pulling out and schlicking off the spent condom. It harshed his endorphin high almost as much as the alarm had. “We’re gonna do that again sometime when there’s not a damn time limit.”

“So you wanna do it again?” Izuku asked, reaching over the bed and tossing Katsuki’s underwear at him before grabbing his own. As he got up, he groaned a little and then giggled. “Oof, feels funny.”

“ ‘S why I told you to take it easy, dumbass.”

“You’d think you’d be more complimentary to my ass after this, Kacchan.”

Katsuki looked at Izuku, a wash of that softness coming back again. He took a step towards Izuku and ran his fingers through his hair, giving the curls back a little bit of their usual fluff. They were sweaty at the roots, but they would pass by the time they arrived. Then he gave Izuku a soft kiss. Just two seconds of contact (it was all they had to spare) just to remind him…to remind him.

Izuku smiled when Katsuki pulled back, murmuring a little “Kacchan,” before heading to the closet. Even just the couple steps Izuku took seemed to bear a little waddle, but Katsuki was sure that Izuku would get his muscles back under him by the time they appeared in public. Or, at least, he’d fake the hell out of it. Last year he’d had three broken toes and Katsuki wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t heard from the radiologist himself.

Katsuki began restoring his uniform, pinching his shirt with only his fingertips, desperately wishing they could fit in a shower before they left, but, well, they’d made their bed. He glanced at Izuku, who was grabbing his own uniform out of his closet. “Do you?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you wanna do it again? Some other time.”

“I liked it,” Izuku said with a grin. “I still like it the other way, though.”

Katsuki flushed. He didn’t know why, perhaps because the blood in his body was still rerouting and was confused why he wasn’t still prone, snuggling with his boyfriend in bed. “Me too.”

There was no doubt: Katsuki wanted to master doing it this way. Much as he wanted the opportunity to take his time with Izuku, tease him out and let him feel the best of what he could make Katuski feel, he also wanted to memorize Izuku’s sweet spots, get to a point where he could get him off this way in twenty minutes again, no stress. Five minutes, even. He wanted everything.

Izuku’s uniform was already on, the stretchy one piece proving a lot more advantageous in this circumstance than Katsuki’s, even with all his accessories in the car. So Katsuki was only just clicking his belt when Izuku leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder, kissing him chastely on the mouth. “Thank you,” he said with a wide smile.

Katsuki smiled, shaking his head. “You’re welcome, dumbass.”

Then, urgently, Izuku grabbed his hand. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes.

If he didn’t love him so much, he’d kill him.

three point five: interlude

Having sex before the ceremony had been such a stupid decision, something Katsuki had whispered to Izuku no less than thirty times over the course of the night, including twice on stage (they weren’t miked—the risk was negligible at best).

Seeing the blush that rose on Izuku’s face, as though he hadn’t been the seductress in the whole affair, was immensely satisfying, though that wasn’t Katsuki’s main motivator. No, the main motivator was that it was the goddamn truth. Katsuki fucking hated all these dumbass ceremonies; he didn’t like networking, he didn’t like interviews, and he didn’t like people, dammit. He didn’t even like late evenings and now his body was whining that it had missed a nap with his boyfriend on his sweaty bed.

But dammit, Izuku had been so hot. Him wanting Katsuki even after all this time was hot and God, Katsuki could admit that he was a little bit whipped. And the fact that he’d wanted to open himself up to Katsuki in that way…well, now Katsuki understood why Izuku had cried the first time Katsuki had done that for him. It had felt like a privilege.

Now, however, he was sleepy, and grumpy, and bitter that he’d had the wise idea to drive because now Izuku was dozing in the passenger seat while Katsuki kept his eyes on the road. God, piss poor planning all day between the two of them. If anyone knew what idiots they were, the both of them would have their rankings bumped.

But no, only Izuku knew what an idiot Katsuki was. And while Katsuki loudly proclaimed to anyone who would listen what an idiot Izuku was, he’d like to think that there were certain sides to him that only Katsuki got to see as well.

When Katsuki pulled into the parking space, he put a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, shaking him lightly. “Deku. Wake up, dumbass.”

“I’m awake,” Izuku mumbled, despite his eyes still being closed. His hand swung up at the elbow and grasped Katsuki’s, wrapping his fingertips around the thumb. “Come in with me.”

“Deku, it’s late, I gotta get home.”

Izuku’s eyes blinked open, half lidded but still huge and expressive on his face. He rolled his shoulder in, as if to take Katsuki’s hand for his own, his grip only tightening. “Move in with me.”

The top layer of Katsuki’s sleepiness burnt away, and his surface nerves suddenly sharp and alert. “What?”

“I don’t like when you say that you’re going home and it means somewhere where I’m not,” Izuku said, his tired face making him look petulant, childlike. Like a boy pouting over his toy being taken away before dinnertime. “My home is with you.”

“Then you should move in with me, dumbass,” Katsuki retorted, adjusting his hips so that he was facing Izuku more fully. Already, Izuku was leaning one side against the seat, his curls rustled in the way they’d been trying to hide for the whole ceremony.

“No,” Izuku said firmly, his voice growing fuller and more alive each second. “No, because if I move in with you, I won’t change anything. I’ll just bring my clothes and it’ll still be your place. But if you move in with me, you’ll change everything to suit you, and then it’ll be like we’re actually here together.”

Katsuki blinked. “That’s stupid.”

“No, Kacchan, it’s not!” Izuku insisted, sitting up properly, allowing their joined hands to fall to the center console. “I want you to take my life and make it yours.”

If there was one thing Izuku had always been able to pull off, it was earnestness. It was in his pale knuckles as he clenched Katsuki’s hand. It was in his downturned mouth and downturned eyebrows and eyes that found every sparkle that the dim streetlights had to offer. And Katsuki was fool enough to think that when you were together with someone who was earnest like that, maybe it was even a little romantic.

He sighed. “I’ll come in.”

Izuku’s eyebrows bounced up. “You’ll move in?”

“No, I’ll come in, fucker.” He ran a hand over his face. God he was tired. “We’ll talk about the rest tomorrow when it’s not the fucking dead of night.”

Two hands were suddenly wrapped around his, and Izuku was bouncing up and down in the faux-leather seat. “Thank you, Kacchan, thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get inside before I decide to sleep in the backseat.” Katsuki unclipped his seatbelt and Izuku followed suit.

“I’d snuggle with you,” he offered.

“And you’d be dumb for doing it.”

He came around the side of the car and found Izuku’s hand again.

Tomorrow morning, he’d say yes. Katsuki might have been fucking exhausted, but he was one hundred percent certain that a little rest wouldn’t change his mind. Living with Izuku was inevitable. The only reason that they didn’t stay over more nights was so as not to accidentally start living together before talking about it. Izuku and Katsuki had done so many things accidentally without talking about them that they’d just about hit their quota and could well and truly be fucked if they did any more.

So, after a talk, he’d say yes. And after that, perhaps, they’d make love.

four

Izuku needed to get it together. Severely. Pronto. He was literally professionally trained in keeping cool under pressure, and yet he felt mere moments away from blowing a top.

If the world had a foremost expert on Bakugou Katsuki, Izuku liked to think it would be him. Aside from Katsuki’s parents, Izuku had time on his side. By now, in terms of time spent in each other’s company, he might even have the Bakugous beat. He was Katsuki’s confidant, lover, partner (in romance and in heroics), roommate, boyfriend, oldest friend. He’d earned the title, dammit. Hero Deku: Number One Hero, Number One Bakugou Katsuki Expert.

But there was still so much he didn’t know. He kept on learning foods that Katsuki didn’t like (bread and butter pickles; they weren’t as crunchy as dill) and habits that came from living together full time (vacuuming the couch?). It turned out he’d always be getting more notebooks to fill with new knowledge about Katsuki. Metaphorically, of course (Dynamight was the only one who filled actual pages of Izuku’s notebooks).

This, however, was something that Izuku couldn’t have predicted. Flipping through those metaphorical notebooks, there weren’t any signs pointing him towards this being the case. There simply wasn’t precedent.

Bakugou Katsuki was good with kids.

Babies, to be exact, or rather, baby. Izuku had seen Katsuki with kids before, but babies were new. Almost as new as Kirishima Akane was herself. Just a few months old and being rocked asleep against Katsuki’s chest. He had a cloth thrown over his shoulder like a pro, unlike Izuku, who was shirtless because said shirt was in the wash after having suffered a, well, predictable baby incident. Of the spit up variety.

Izuku found himself being lulled by Katsuki’s gentle bouncing as well, not to sleep, but into a daze of sorts. Backed into a daydream of a little domestic fantasy where Katsuki wasn’t his boyfriend, but his husband, where maybe instead of moving into Izuku’s apartment, he and Katsuki had bought a house together, where maybe, just maybe, they’d had a little baby just like little Akane who slept between them and needed them for everything she did.

“I think we can finally put her to bed,” Katsuki whispered, the rocking coming to a stop as the baby rested against his pecs. Izuku had fallen asleep there before too—it was a good spot.

She’d been fussy for a while, so the use of the word finally wasn’t any exaggeration on Katsuki’s part. Izuku didn’t know if it was because her parents were gone or if it was his and Katsuki’s inexperience or if this was just normal for Akane and they had no frame of reference. This was their first time babysitting her, after all, giving the parents a well-earned date night.

Katsuki put her down in the bassinet with a gentleness that Izuku rarely got to see, because the only person to usually receive that from Katsuki was him. It was fascinating to observe from a third person perspective, and it turned over in his stomach.

When Akane was laid down, Izuku couldn’t help but tiptoe over to her and see her smushy face all lax, her body all wrapped like a little burrito. He would check Katsuki’s swaddling work, but it appeared he’d done it as flawlessly as he did everything else.

“Goodnight, little baby,” Izuku whispered, waving at her before standing up.

The room was dim, drawn with blackout curtains just for a baby and parents who slept at any and all hours of the day that they could. But if Izuku hadn’t been able to see Katuski’s eyes on him anyway, he would have felt them. Katsuki had had eyes only for the baby for the last twenty minutes of soothing and bouncing, so the heavy return of them to himself was palpable. His skin prickled.

After a moment of both men staring, Katsuki nodded his head towards the bedroom door, and both men crept out, treading lightly with their slippers. The next thing Izuku knew, Katsuki had him pressed against the living room wall and was kissing him straight into it.

“Kacch—”

“Walking around shirtless like that all day, what the fuck are you doing to me, Deku?”

“I—”

“And you’re so good with her, fuck, why do I like you being so fucking nice?”

“No, Kacchan, you—” Izuku gasped as Katsuki pinched his nipple hard, “—you’re the one who’s good with her. You look like a real parent—you’d be such a good dad.”

“God, fuck—okay. Bathroom. You go to the bathroom, I’m gonna find some lube.”

Izuku’s hands had been gripping at Katsuki’s sides, slowly riding his shirt up, but they suddenly loosened. “What? Here?”

“Hardly the worst place we’ve done it, nerd,” Katsuki replied, already heading for Eijirou and Mina’s bedroom. “When I get back I want your bottom to match your top.”

Katsuki was off and rustling through their friend’s belongings before Izuku could respond, but really, who was Izuku to say no? He grabbed the baby monitor that was on the living room table and brought it with him, setting it on the sink before closing the door and stripping down. He was already half hard nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet waiting for Katsuki to get back.

“Why’d you close the door, dumbass?” Katsuki asked, his voice carrying through the door before he’d opened it. “Worried she’ll walk outta bed and catch us?”

Katsuki’s shirt had been lost on the journey, presumably thrown on the floor someplace. His pants were still on, but unbuttoned in the front, his boxers tenting noticeably through the gap.

“Noise, Kacchan, I don’t wanna wake her,” Izuku whispered, eyeing the lube and condoms Katsuki held in each hand. Izuku tried not to take note of how much was used. He was already preparing to defile their friends’ bathroom; he did not need any insight into their sex life on top of that.

“Fine,” Katsuki said, placing his goods on the sink and nudging the door closed with his foot. Then he put his hands on the counter and arched his ass up. “Now do your worst.”

The rest of Izuku’s blood rushed to his cock—how could it not with Kacchan presented like that? He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s bare waist, kissing the side of his neck. They made eye contact in the medicine cabinet and Izuku saw Katsuki’s eyes close in a slow blink when Izuku ground his hard on into Katsuki’s clothed ass. His posture stayed strong, bending back into it, not crumbling to any of Izuku’s significant strength.

Tenderly, Izuku slipped his hands down the front of Katsuki’s loosened pants, beneath his boxers, and ran them flat down Katsuki’s thighs. The pants lowered an inch or two in the process, revealing the uppermost curve of Katsuki’s ass to Izuku’s hungry eyes. Heat radiated from Katsuki’s clothed cock towards Izuku’s hands, but Izuku didn’t touch it, not yet.

Neither of them had any idea how long they had before Akane would wake up, but it was still a good couple hours before their friends would be back. Izuku could still hear Eijirou’s voice on the phone to Katsuki, Thanks, bro, you’re saving us! Izuku couldn’t help but giggle into Katsuki’s shoulder. Gosh, they were being so bad, but he really, really couldn’t help it.

“What are you laughing about, loser?” Katsuki asked. His voice had been soft all day, like a bull trying to tiptoe through a china shop. More bits of Katsuki that Izuku wasn’t used to seeing outside of their home, outside of their most intimate moments. But here they were for him to watch anew.

“Just that Eijirou-kun and Mina-san are probably, hopefully too tired to kill us for this.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes in the mirror, grinding back against Izuku. “We’re trained in stealth, dumbass. It’ll be fucking fine so long as you actually get on with it.”

“Yes, Kacchan,” Izuku said before sucking on the crook of Katuski’s neck, moving his hands inwards so that he was just barely squeezing Katsuki’s inner thighs, brushing just around the base of his dick.

Katsuki groaned, bucking into Izuku’s hold, but Izuku didn’t do anything more just yet, keeping Katsuki’s hips in place while affixing most of his attention to Katsuki’s neck. In this position, there was little Katsuki could do to return what he got, bite back like he usually did. It was Izuku’s opportunity to lavish kisses and marks upon Katsuki, worship him piece by piece, love him while he could do nothing but fog up the bathroom mirror.

Izuku continued roaming Katsuki’s thighs, allowing his arms to catch on the bands of his jeans and boxers and slip them down ever lower, not in any real hurry. With his ass arched up the way it was, Katsuki’s thighs were drawn tight in the back. The strength of his hamstrings pushed against Izuku’s southward bound hands, strong and taut. As Izuku continued feeling up his boyfriend, it became more the tension of his arms that was keeping Katsuki’s pants up than the meat of Katsuki’s ass and thighs. So, in a swift movement, Izuku let them fall to Katsuki’s ankles and wrapped a hand around the base of Katsuki’s cock, earning a prolonged groan from the other man.

“Like that, Kacchan?”

“I’d like it more if it weren’t at a fucking snail’s pace, but sure, I like it.”

It wouldn’t be like Katsuki to admit that he liked being taken apart slowly, that he liked tenderness and affection, or even that he liked the attention that he’d sought his whole life (not this kind of attention, but Izuku had found the correlation to be a direct one).

“Sorry, I can’t help but want to touch Kacchan as much as I can,” Izuku cooed, stroking Katsuki too slowly to do more than tease and send a bit of heat to Katsuki’s face. “It’s never enough.”

“Fucking insatiable perv,” Katsuki huffed, almost looking like he had a point as Izuku stood there, one hand on Katsuki’s cock, the other reaching for the lube.

“Only for Kacchan,” he whispered, flipping open the lube cap with his thumb.

Izuku took a second to remember that this was not his house and not his lube, that this encounter would have to contain a bit more decorum than Izuku and Katsuki usually prioritized. He squeezed out a liberal amount of the smooth gel and spread it between his fingers before separating his hips from Katsuki’s and pressing one digit in.

“Fuck,” Katsuki hissed, leaning back into the stretch.

“Two?”

Izuku could already feel that Katsuki could take two. It had become easier to fool around since moving in together, despite their schedules not lessening any. If anything, with Mina and Eijirou taking off for parental leave, they had more on their plates. Perhaps that justified fucking against their bathroom counter.

“Yes,” Katsuki insisted, pressing back further, his torso leaning down further as he distanced himself from the sink.

Izuku smiled, glad that Katsuki was no longer looking in the mirror to see it. Katsuki might not admit to his neediness, but it was something that Izuku reveled in. Being needed by Katsuki would always make him feel important in a way totally separate from hero work. In a way just between them.

He added a second finger, spreading them out for a few moments before moving onto a third and then a fourth. The whole time, Izuku kept up teasing little motions on Katsuki’s cock. Slow strokes and squeezes, reminding him of what Izuku could do, but wouldn’t. Not until the time was right. It left Katsuki groaning and huffing, as close to a whimpering mess as Izuku could usually get him. It was rare that Katsuki would fully forget himself in sex and let go; rather, every noise of pleasure came out as a concession. A prize that Izuku won until they got to the rare moments that Katsuki gave freely, openly, wildly.

“Deku, just…”

“Just what, Kacchan?”

“Just—fuck—you know.”

“I don’t know, Kacchan, what do you want?”

Katsuki growled. “If you don’t know, then I should probably pull my pants up and not tell you,” he bit back, turning his head sharply to look Izuku in his teasing eyes.

“You’re probably right, Kacchan,” Izuku said, smiling. He kissed Katsuki’s cheek. “How about I fuck you?”

“What I’ve been saying…” Katuski grumbled as Izuku removed his fingers.

Izuku grabbed a condom and rolled it on, wasting no time before he was positioning himself at Katsuki’s entrance. He was buzzing, perhaps feeling a bit pent up from all his teasing as well, desperate to finally feel Katsuki around him again. Wow, he couldn’t believe he’d put it off as long as he had.

He pushed in, the feeling always a dual one of pleasure and relief. Even though the tension was still only building, his orgasm still (relatively) far off, it was a burden off his chest to finally be inside Katsuki, absorbing the heat, feeling the squeeze that was just tight enough, work resulted from his own hand. It was sexy to watch Katsuki open himself up, but Izuku preferred to do it himself, always. Every opportunity to touch Katsuki was one he’d take again and again.

“God, Deku, yes, fuck, how do you always feel so good?”

Izuku whined, burying his forehead against Katsuki’s neck. “Evil, Kacchan, evil.”

Katsuki’s chest rumbled, Izuku could feel it against the arm he’d wrapped around Katsuki’s chest, one bouncing laugh making his ribs expand and contract. “Not my fault your dick’s so fucking good.”

But it was his fault that he was saying so, pressing against Izuku’s weakness. Being complimented on the field was a daily thing, something Izuku took pride in, but was also important because he needed to know what he was doing well to be a good hero. He also needed to have a positive public image to continue being able to serve in the capacity that he did.

Compliments in bed, however, annihilated him. Because they were from Katsuki, someone by whom praise was not given easily. And Izuku could. Not. Take it.

“Kacchan, please,” Izuku whined, his voice sounding like he was moments from crying, even though  his eyes weren’t there (yet). The compliments left him feeling overstimulated, even so early on. Overwhelmed, but in a way he didn’t dare walk away from.

“Keep going,” Katsuki grit out, and that Izuku could deal with. Direct instruction, fine, done. He would do it happily for Katsuki.

He did more than that, actually, setting a slightly faster pace. It was so easy to take control from this position. Izuku missed the kissing, and his easy access to Katsuki’s face, but he couldn’t begrudge the way that their bodies melded perfectly like this. Izuku’s whole front was curved along the line of Kastuki’s spine, held close by the arm wrapped diagonally along his front. Then there was the hand Izuku had moved from Katsuki’s cock to his hip, his grip firm and confident.

No, nothing was wrong with this position. It was nice, as a treat, especially so with Katsuki’s face twisted in the mirror, bottom lip bitten, eyes screwed shut. But Izuku would definitely make sure next time was face to face. Otherwise, he’d be forced to miss Kacchan while he was right in front of him, and that would be hard to explain.

“I’m gonna finish,” Katuski hissed. “God, it’s too much.”

“You can finish whenever you want, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered, his mouth close to Katsuki’s ear from where it was buried in his neck. “Please, I want you to.”

Katsuki groaned and took one hand off the sink, sending both boys forward before Izuku steadied them again. Then he was fisting himself, racing towards a finish that Izuku wasn’t far behind.

“Wanna see you, Kacchan,” Izuku chanted, locking his eyes on the mirror as he kept up his thrusting. “It’s everything I want.”

“Fuck, Deku,” Katsuki said, and Izuku could feel him begin to really clench around him. Not in orgasm, not yet, but so close. Izuku could probably count off the seconds that remained if he wanted, but he stayed locked in the moment instead.

Katsuki’s eyes opened, but they were wrecked. When he blinked, tears formed at the corners, just begging to fall but still managing to hold on. Izuku held Katsuki even tighter, not because it created better leverage, but just because he wanted to.

The feeling started at Izuku’s elbow, with Katsuki’s abdomen suddenly squeezing tight, folding further into his hold. Then it was that incredible clenching around his cock, searing hot even through the condom. Izuku couldn’t last through it, falling into a moan over top of Katsuki’s gasp, both of their voices ringing against the bathroom tile.

“Good fucking God,” Katsuki groaned, his second hand falling heavily on the sink’s rim. “It’s worth cumming in the sink for a nut like that, shit.”

Izuku giggled, continuing to nuzzle into Katsuki’s neck. He smelled like sweat and baby powder; it made the whole thing feel thrillingly domestic, despite the fact that they were defiling their friends’ bathroom. Respectfully.

To that end, Izuku pulled out before he could make a mess, and discarded the condom in the trash. He even went the extra mile and covered it up with some toilet tissue while Katsuki busied himself with soaping up the sink. After he was through with that and Izuku had cleaned himself, Katsuki had the bottle of lube under the faucet with soap and water. Katsuki caught his eye and said, “Leave no trace, dumbass.”

“Thought that was for, like, hiking,” Izuku said through a grin.

“Shut the hell up and put your clothes back on.”

“Alright, lover,” Izuku said, giving Katsuki a quick kiss on the cheek before reaching down to restore his pants and underwear. Maybe the laundry was done running too.

Already, Izuku could see the beginnings of the marks that were to bloom on the back of Katsuki’s neck, feeling ever grateful for Katsuki’s winter costume. It would hide those bruises in public, but at home, they’d rest above the crew-neck tees and tanks that Katsuki lounged in.

“You know I can see you, right?” Katsuki spoke into the mirror, eyeing Izuku in the reflection.

“Can’t help it,” Izuku said, coming back behind Katsuki just like how they’d started off, except now he was the one wearing pants. He wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s middle and rested his chin on his shoulder. “I just really, really, really like you.”

“Psh,” Katsuki scoffed, reaching for a hand towel. “Not what you usually say. What, didn’t have a good enough time?”

“Mm, I always have the best time with Kacchan. I love you.”

“Damn straight,” Katsuki said, taking one of Izuku’s hands in his. He threaded their fingers together and then kissed the back of it softly. “Love you too. Now wash these monstrosities.”

“Yes, sir.”

five

“Do you regret boving in wid be now?”

Katsuki looked down at Izuku being swallowed by his hideous gray plaid couch. His buff body was lost, neck and head aside, in the corner against the armrest, the rest of him covered by the thick, knit blanket Katsuki had bought to cover it up. It wasn’t saving the couch, but it was doing its darndest to cover up the disaster that was Midoriya Izuku.

“No, I don’t regret moving in with you,” Katsuki answered. “I do kinda regret sharing a ventilation system with you, though.”

Izuku pouted for only a moment before it broke apart into a cough that was loud and phlegmy. Not particularly wet or rattling—Izuku wasn’t dying. It was just a garden variety cold with a low fever. If Katsuki was to believe Izuku, that was, instead of assuming that he was playing things down as he was known to do.

But no, Katsuki trusted Izuku, if only for the fact that Izuku loved to work and taking a cold seriously and getting the proper rest would be the quickest way to get back in the action. He was predictable in that way.

“Sorry about our date.”

Izuku was looking up at Katsuki with wide and perpetually watery eyes. Katsuki didn’t know if the cold had rendered them itchy or if he was hot with fever or if he was just on the edge of tears like he always was.

“Don’t worry about that, idiot,” Katsuki said, taking off his jacket and sitting on the couch.

He’d brought a nice change of clothes to work, nothing too fancy, just a button down shirt, leather jacket, and some jeans. All with the hope of making it out of work soon enough to meet Izuku for dinner in the thin period of time they could see each other since their shift schedule had been changed.

And he had made it out in time. Only dinner was now going to be miso soup instead of wherever the hell they would have gone. Katsuki already had it warming on the stove.

“Hey,” Katsuki said, grabbing Izuku’s face by the chin and turning it towards him. “Love you. Okay?”

Izuku’s mouth fell into a narrow little frown, and he looked just that much closer to crying. “Even when I’m gross?”

“You’ve always been gross.”

Izuku’s face softened. “You know, from anyone else that would be dickish, but somehow it’s really sweet from you.”

Katsuki scoffed. “You’re just in love with me.”

“A little.”

They both found themselves leaning in towards each other, that natural gravity that they’d always had still exerting its force over them. Suddenly, Izuku recoiled, putting a hand over his nose and mouth.

“No, I’m sick!” he cried, the rasp in his voice coming out strongly. “Stay back!”

“Oh my God, Deku,” Katuski laughed as he leaned back. “It’s not like you have some kind of contagious quirk, fuck. We’ve been through worse.”

“I know, God, it’s stupid,” Izuku said, collapsing back into his dent in the couch. “I had plans too.”

“Another hot date?”

“Shut up.” Izuku shoved Katsuki’s shoulder, making Katsuki cackle. “With you, you moron.”

“And here I thought I was gonna have to beat some punk up,” Katsuki said, grinning. “What were these plans?”

Izuku sunk further into the couch. “Well, they weren’t plans-plans, just, I don’t know.”

“Spit it out, Deku.”

“We were gonna have sex!” Izuku exclaimed, turning the shade of a full-color peach: all red but for a few splotchy, pale patches. Katsuki suspected it was not because of the fever.

A little thrill shot through Katsuki’s body at the thought. Yeah, of course that had been the plan. Obviously. Katsuki hadn’t been able to prep at work, per se, but he had taken care to eat smart and try and time his day out accordingly. Somehow, it almost always seemed like it had been too long since they’d been together, even after moving in to the same bedroom. And this would have been a nice little spot of relief.

Although…

“Let’s do it anyway.” He began unbuttoning his dark blue shirt.

“Wh-What?” Izuku’s face scrunched in such a way that Katsuki would have laughed on any other occasion, but he was on a mission of seduction, dammit.

“No kissing,” Katsuki said first, halfway down his shirt with the buttons. “And a condom, obviously, so it’s practically like we wouldn’t be touching.”

“Practically…?” Izuku’s eyes were wide, totally lost. Then he blinked and shook his head. “What? It’s totally not!”

Katsuki slipped the shirt off, hating how the tightness of the cuffed sleeves was such a greater hassle than the athleisure tanks and tees he usually wore. He tossed it over the back of the couch and out of sight. Then he sat back, crossed his arms, and looked at Izuku. “Look, do you wanna do it or not?”

Izuku gaped at him for a moment, eyes searching his face and then falling to his chest and arms before returning up again. Then, a pointed finger shot out in accusation. “You’re using your hotness against me!”

So what if he was? Katsuki was well aware of how his arms naturally flexed in this position, how they framed his pecs in a way that would make Izuku think about kissing or biting them—whatever his pervy brain could cook up.

“Is it working?”

Izuku stared at him for a second, allowing himself another indulgent look at Katsuki’s arms and torso. Then he blurted out, “Damn it, yes,” and in one motion threw his blanket to the floor and shoved Katsuki flat on the couch. Katsuki grinned with all his teeth.

“Fuck yeah.”

Izuku dove right in with Katsuki’s chest, laving his tongue over a nipple and sucking it in his mouth. Katsuki’s legs were spread on either side of Izuku’s waist, both bent at the knee, and Izuku did nothing to avoid grinding his abs against Katsuki’s hardening cock. His skin was so hot, even through Katsuki’s dress pants that already Katsuki was wondering what he’d just gotten himself into. And that spoke nothing to the scorching heat of Izuku’s mouth.

Once one side of Katsuki’s chest was properly treated, Izuku switched to the other, starting off with a bite that had Katsuki’s hand flying up to his mouth. It was too early in the game to be falling apart already, not while Izuku was still fully dressed. Then, suddenly, Izuku popped up and kissed the back of Katsuki’s hand.

“Mm, it’s gonna be so hard not to kiss, Kacchan.”

Katsuki agreed. Every part of sex with Izuku was good, at least it was by now. But kissing was special. A reminder that no matter how rowdy they got, everything they did was still out of love. That their love was first.

“Gonna have to just keep that mouth busy with other things then, nerd,” Katsuki said, bopping Izuku on the head and shoving him back down.

Izuku hummed against Katsuki’s skin, kissing his way back down to the bitten nipple. There were no teeth marks, but the skin around both pecs was already turning red. Izuku sucked a spot on his sternum that would be sure to bruise tomorrow.

He was thumbing Katsuki’s pants off, unbuttoning the top, lowering the zipper and pulling them down Katsuki’s legs until he had to lean back to throw them and his boxers the same way Katsuki had his shirt.

Without taking his mouth off of Katsuki’s skin, Izuku reached towards the drawers in the coffee table and began feeling around for the one with the lube in it. Despite the fact that Izuku couldn’t see him, Katsuki rolled his eyes, batting away Izuku’s hand as he pulled at the right handle and grabbed the lube himself.

“Mm,” Izuku hummed by means of thanks as he kissed down Katsuki’s body and popped open the mostly full bottle of lube.

Since moving in together, Izuku and Katsuki had stocked a few bottles of the silicone-based stuff all over the apartment. Living room, kitchen, bathroom and, of course, the bedroom. One for each bedside table. And it wasn’t even out of any out of control horniness (well, a little), but more out of laziness. Really. Who wanted to trek all the way to the bedroom when they were already hot and heavy in the…anywhere else?

Okay, so maybe the jury was out on whether it was more horniness or laziness, but either way, the idea of having Izuku on the couch was too delicious to resist. Suddenly, Katsuki found himself shoving Izuku by the chest and swinging them both sideways so that Katsuki was seated across Izuku’s clothed thighs.

“Shirt off, fucker.”

Izuku chuckled, though the sound came out short and raspy. He pulled off his sweaty t-shirt in one swift move and then sat back against the couch, letting Katsuki wrap his arms around Izuku’s bare shoulders.

Katsuki’s quads were flexed up to the hip as he sat up, hovering a bit above Izuku’s waist, providing easy access. His nose brushed against Izuku’s hair, and he breathed in. So sweaty already, but such a familiar smell. It was the scent of his pillow, a hug after a day of work that hadn’t borne too much destruction, or a day at the gym. They might not have been able to kiss, but this was still good. It was grounding, it was intimate.

Izuku began probing Katsuki with his knobby fingers, just playing around outside for a moment, teasing Katsuki’s hole as they breathed into one another. As Katsuki was breathing into Izuku’s hair, Izuku’s breath was hot and humid against Katsuki’s collarbone. The heat of fever maybe, Katsuki didn’t know, but it made his spine shiver in contrast, unable to wait for the rest of his body to reach that temperature.

One finger pushed in and Katsuki couldn’t help but lead the way, riding it, leaning down to whisper in Izuku’s ear, tell him to use a second. Then, figuring it was relatively safe as far as germs went, he nibbled on the shell of Izuku’s ear while grinding down on his hand.

“God, you’re so sexy,” Izuku breathed, almost sounding exasperated by it. Like Katsuki’s sexiness was exhausting for Izuku to take in. Unlike usual, when he complained that he couldn’t get enough.

“You are,” Katsuki paid back, working his fingers up Izuku’s hair, resting his elbows atop Izuku’s shoulders. His freckles made it all the way up his forehead, getting lost in his hairline, and Katsuki wondered if Izuku had little secret freckles beneath all those curls. He felt like he should know, like there shouldn’t be a single part of Izuku’s body that was a mystery to him.

“Fuck, Kacchan,” Izuku groaned, the vowels coming out long and drawled. The congestion had Izuku’s consonants sounding all closed and stuffy, but his vowels still rang clear. They had a little less variety in pitch than usual, and a lot more gravel, but Katsuki couldn’t help but like the throatiness. It made his lover sound desperate, debauched. Katsuki liked him like that.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Katsuki continued, playing with Izuku’s hair, giving it the attention  he’d give his lips, or maybe a tongue across his throat if he could. “Your thighs are so thick I can barely wrap my knees around them.”

“Don’t lie, Kacchan,” Izuku whined, tilting his head into Katsuki’s hands. “You’re so flexible, anything you try we can always do. Your body is so perfect, so, so perfect, Kacchan.”

Izuku accentuated his point, running his free hand from Katsuki’s ass (where he’d been squeezing, maybe for Katsuki’s balance, maybe just to cop a feel) up his back and around one broad shoulder. All the while, his hand was firm, pushing them closer together chest to chest, digging deep enough into Kastuki’s muscles that they ached and yearned for more.

“Shut up,” Katsuki groaned, grinding down until his ass tapped Izuku’s thighs, then coming back up. Somewhere along the way, Izuku had gotten up to four fingers. “God, just shut up.”

“I can’t,” Izuku insisted, working his fingers in and out at a good pace. “You bring it out in me. You’re so amazing I can’t possibly keep to myself. I’m only human, Kacchan.”

It was like being next to a bonfire on an early spring night: the draw to the fire is so strong, the warmth is so delicious, necessary, life-giving. But some innate part of you is sure that the fire will kill you if you get too close. Izuku’s words were like tongues of fire on a beach—the center of his attention yet too hot to touch. Dancing in his eyes but blinding to look at.

“You…fuck, I love—ngh!”

Izuku’s grin in Katsuki’s shoulder was moist from all the kissing he’d been lavashing upon Katsuki’s skin as he suddenly pressed against and began stroking Katsuki’s prostate. Fucking cheater.

“Trying to get a headstart, asshole?” Katsuki grit out, his thighs suddenly tensing from being kept at a working angle for so long.

“Maybe,” Izuku grinned, looking up at Katsuki. “I’m not exactly at top physical condition.”

It was true, but anyone but Katsuki would hardly know it. There was evidence in Izuku’s red nose, but his eyes were about as watery as usual. No, perhaps they were more pink-rimmed than Katsuki usually found them. For as easy as Izuku cried, he didn’t necessarily cry all that often, not as much as his friends gave him guff for.

Even though Katsuki could enumerate all the spots of illness on Izuku, Izuku still looked damn good to him. Sweaty and hard underneath him, chest shiny and splatter painted with freckles.

God, Katsuki wanted to kiss him. Instead, he sat down on Izuku’s thighs again, his own quads and hamstrings buzzing with the effort, and began tugging at his pants. Tapered sweatpants that had the cuffs shoved halfway up Izuku’s incredible calves. Calves that jutted out like a goddamn horse’s did, lined with veins and thin, black hair. Katsuki bothered getting all the way off Izuku and the couch just to pull them all the way down and gawk at his boyfriend’s legs.

Then, a condom was in hand and Katsuki was back in Izuku’s lap, body already cooling from the loss of moments apart. But now that they were wholly skin on skin (except for the plentiful skin-on-couch action), the warmth was coming back to Katsuki at every spot of connection. Their thighs, their hands, their cocks, just brushing against each other before Katsuki rolled the condom on.

Izuku had worked him open well that sliding down on his cock was no problem. Katsuki found himself fully seated, ass full in just one solid thrust, and he had to press his hands flat against Izuku’s chest to keep away. He turned his head to the side, rolling his chin toward one shoulder as he began to thrust, happy to take on this amount of effort for his sick boyfriend.

“Kacchan,” Izuku groaned, his head falling back against the sofa. Good, that was less temptation. “You’re so good to me.”

“Best boyfriend ever, right?” Katsuki couldn’t resist.

From this angle, Izuku was all smile unless Katsuki rose all the way up, nearly off his cock entirely, which he did once before slamming back down again and bouncing in a series of shallow thrusts. His thighs were going to be broken tomorrow.

“Best boyfriend ever.”

Izuku seemed to forget that it had been Katsuki’s desire to go ahead with this part of their evening plans, but Katsuki was happy to let that go as he focused on the bigger task of riding them both to completion. That prostate play really had been an unfair advantage on Izuku’s part, and Katsuki worried that he might already be halfway to his peak. God, he should have teased Izuku a little while he’d had the chance, made the other boy whimper and moan for him. Being sick as he was, Katsuki bet he could have gotten Izuku to crumble in minutes.

So Katsuki did what he could in the moment, which was lean into Izuku’s neck and give to it what he couldn’t give to his mouth. Izuku had so many sensitive spots, but his neck was Katsuki’s favorite. So long and delicate atop all of that hard-earned muscle. So many freckles to bite and lick and taste. Izuku groaned right into his ear, his breath coming out like steam.

“I’m not even—hng—not even gonna try and control myself, Kacchan,” Izuku said, music to Katsuki’s ears.

“Who ever asked you to, dumbass?”

“Ju-Just wanna be good for you, Kacchan,” Izuku whined, his voice especially pathetic in this state. Katsuki didn’t mind it.

“You’re always good, Deku, so fucking good.”

Izuku gasped, and Katsuki had to pull back to see it. Izuku’s eyes were all clarity, like pools of green Caribbean seawater. Katsuki ground down and clenched, watching how Izuku’s eyes screwed shut in response. He kept squeezing around Izuku, another grand show of muscle control, and the next thing he knew, Izuku was moaning, his shoulders collapsing as he came. His core shuddered through it, rolling against Katsuki’s as he managed a few last thrusts upward, but then he was gone, energy sapped.

“Sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku said quietly, but Katsuki would have none of that.

“For fucking what? That’s what I wanted.”

Izuku blinked his eyes up at Katsuki, as if looking for assurance, and Katsuki did everything in his power to give that to him. Sure eyes, furrowed brow, slightly parted mouth as he continued to breathe heavily. Izuku straightened up again, his second wind coming fast. A hand wrapped around Katsuki’s cock and began pumping readily, using Katsuki’s precome as lubricant. Izuku was still hard enough that Katsuki could grind and bounce a little, and he couldn’t help but groan, finding Izuku’s freshly determined face sexy.

He was so close—had been the whole time, really. But there was one thing that was sure to push him over the edge. And he shouldn’t need it, really, not with a hand on his cock and a cock up his ass. Shouldn’t need it, but he wanted it, and Katsuki got what he wanted dammit, and this was no exception. He wouldn’t let it be.

“Kiss me,” Katsuki breathed, his back curling as he leaned in towards Izuku’s face.

“What?” Izuku reeled back in alarm. “No, Kacchan, you’ll get sick!”

“I don’t care,” Katsuki said. “It’s probably too late already. You’re in me, in the air I breathe, in my bed at night. If you’re sick, I’m sick, just kiss me.”

Katsuki leaned closer again, and Izuku didn’t move, his lips slightly parted as if in preparation. Their breaths were already intertwined and, with every meaning of the words, it was too late for him where Izuku was concerned. So he kept leaning in, checking in with Izuku’s eyes a couple times before they were too close to see, and then they kissed.

With it came such relief. Katsuki had never known a kiss to feel so missing before, but it was wrong to make love to Izuku without it. So he kissed, and kissed, and then he came, his jaw falling slack against Izuku’s as he spilled between them. Izuku groaned as well, his cock giving a valiant twitch before they both collapsed into the couch, sticky and satiated.

They would have stayed like that longer, comforted by the feeling of their chests rising and falling into each other, like the rush of tide against the sand that met it. But Izuku had to extract himself and Katsuki needed to clean them both up. He stumbled to the kitchen for a rag, throwing out the used condom along the way, and then an “Oh, shit,” escaped his mouth as he scrambled for the stove.

Well. The miso soup had warmed.

The bottom of the pot had scorched in the outline of rectangles of seaweed, and little bits of tofu now clung to the bottom, drying out in a layer of slimy concentrate. Katsuki turned off the stove immediately and then just stared at it in betrayal. Stupid, fucking soup.

He’d order some for delivery. And then he’d buy more packets in preparation for two days from now when he, assuredly, would be in the same sorry shape Izuku was on the couch right now. So fucking stupid.

It was worth it, though, Katsuki thought as he poured some white vinegar into the pot, the scorched smell releasing further into the room along with the sour haze of vinegar. Being with Izuku was always worth it.

He just hoped they’d both have the will to resist when his turn to be sick came.

plus one

The hour was late, the still of the night late. The late hour after dusk when poets wrote about ghosts and wishing stars and unrequited love. The kind of late on a weeknight that had Izuku wincing at every beep the elevator gave, hoping that his odd hours weren’t waking the neighbors.

It had been a long shift. Nothing too exciting to grab Izuku’s attention and carry him through the long afternoon into night. Rather, there’d only been a few little incidents to leave him tired and sore on the journey home. He’d managed to jump it, hopping from building to building, but only because it would get him home quicker than public transit. And because he, sometimes to his own detriment, had an unparalleled ability to power through. When the end result was worth it, that was.

And it was. He and Katsuki had been suffering opposite schedules for weeks; sometimes the only time they got together was in each other’s arms in the dead of night, trading every little bit of body heat they had like it was conversation, like it was errands and meals shared.

Izuku turned the key in the latch slowly, quiet as he could. There were, to Izuku’s chagrin, many downsides of dating a hero. The injuries, the schedules, of course, but his boyfriend’s heightened senses were a beast all their own. And Izuku’s own were no better. Any rogue sound would send either man flying from bed, ready to annihilate any intruder or vengeful villain.

Of course, neither event had happened, yet, but that didn’t mean that both men hadn’t suffered many sleepless nights anyway.

Izuku took off his shoes carefully. These sneakers were his favorite, but they were bulky, not exactly lending themselves well to stealth. He only allowed one step inside before they had to come off, to be placed on the shelf with care.

His shirt was next, coming off as he walked down the hallway. He folded it as the living room came into view. Katsuki had left the hallway light on for Izuku, even though the light bled under their bedroom door. Izuku turned off the light and managed with the guide of the city’s light pollution coming through their windows. It would be enough as his eyes adjusted.

The shirt went on the back of the couch, on top of the blanket that Katsuki had bought in exchange for letting Izuku keep his supposedly ugly sectional. Maybe it was ugly, but both men had enjoyed fucking on and against it enough, if Izuku said so himself.

Izuku moved to take off his pants, folding them on top of the shirt as well. Katsuki would forgive the clothes not making it into the laundry hamper in exchange for not being woken up by the shuffling he’d have to endure if Izuku undressed in their room. So, after quickly brushing his teeth and washing his face, Izuku tiptoed into the bedroom and found Katsuki turned in toward Izuku’s side of the bed, nose tucked into Izuku’s pillow. Izuku bit his lips, both of them, perhaps too hard as he tried not to squeal.

He restrained himself and, with as much subtlety as he could manage, crawled onto his side of the bed, unable to stop the grin that arose when he found himself facing his love.

“Ngh…Deku,” Katsuki mumbled into the pillow.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” Izuku whispered, putting a hand in Katsuki’s hair and caressing it.

Katsuki stretched, tangling his limbs with Izuku’s. He was warm all over, heated from hours beneath the covers, and Izuku struggled not to bury his cold toes beneath Katsuki’s legs, dig his nose, frozen from leaping across rooftops, into his cheek. “Dun tell me what t’ do, Deku.”

“You have to get up in a few hours, Kacchan.”

“Day off.”

That gave Izuku pause. Had they really been out of sync so long that Izuku had overlooked Katsuki’s day off? He could really wake up next to Katsuki instead of alone, tangled in pulled up blankets to make up for the missing body heat? Maybe sharing a lazy morning together with coffee and breakfast? Izuku’s toes wriggled at the idea.

Izuku’s space was being encroached upon, Katsuki’s breath suddenly on his cheek, his warmth filling every cold gap in Izuku’s body. His eyes had finally opened and Izuku’s crossed trying to keep them in view. There were so many places they were almost touching. Their foreheads, their noses, their chests. They probably could have fit in a twin-sized bed like this.

“Kacchan?” Izuku whispered as Katsuki threw a leg over Izuku’s hip, an arm across his shoulders. Caging him in with every limb available.

“Deku…” Katsuki murmured, touching their noses tip to tip, then slotting them to the side. If Izuku puckered his lips, they would touch Kacchan’s. “Why do I have to miss you so much?”

“I’m right here,” Izuku whispered, drawing closer where he could. His hips, his arms, his legs.

Katsuki closed that final gap and pressed his lips against Izuku’s. Between the two of them, their tongues tasted like mint, sharp and clean. “I like you best when you’re here,” Katsuki said between kisses. “I hate you when you’re not here.”

Izuku giggled, but it came out more like a hum as his lips closed around Katsuki’s. “So fickle, Kacchan.”

“So stupid, Deku.”

“Kiss me stupid, Kacchan.”

Katsuki obliged, grinding his hips into Izuku’s as he did so. Izuku hoped it would work, because he didn’t want to think right now, because if he did, he’d think about how much he missed Katsuki too. It didn’t always cross his mind while he was on the job, but in the locker room where only quiet voices echoed, or on the way home when all he could think about was returning to his Kacchan again. He’d think about how they were still “rookies” despite having saved the world multiple times over, with minimal control over their schedules or lives. How they were paying their dues and one day, they’d be able to pick. They’d never go weeks without waking up beside each other. Not so far as they could help it.

“Shh, Izuku.” Katsuki pulled back, eyes squared as they flicked between both of Izuku’s. A hand was in his hair, stroking it groundingly. “Be here.”

Izuku blinked out of it, seeing only Katsuki. The whole room was dark, but Katsuki’s moonlit hair and all seeing eyes were especially bright. “I’m here, Kacchan, I’m here.”

And he went back in, kissing Katsuki more forcefully now. He could have knocked Katsuki back to his side of the bed but, even sleepy, Katsuki couldn’t be toppled that easily. Katsuki met him push for push, gripping Izuku’s hair more tightly by the moment, wrapping his leg tighter around Izuku’s back so that he really couldn’t get away.

“I want you, Kacchan,” Izuku breathed. The exhaustion he’d felt earlier had melted away. Something about Katsuki always ignited embers within Izuku. They could never fizzle out or quiet down in Katsuki’s presence. It was always more, more, more.

“Then have me,” came the reply. Then, quieter: “You can always have me.”

Little could usually come between Katsuki and his sleep, but it seemed that tonight Katsuki needed it as much as Izuku did. There was a desperation between them that time apart had only stoked. Once they were together, the flames erupted.

They were rising rapidly, so Izuku wasted little time in reaching for the band of Katsuki’s boxers. It was difficult to make quick work of them, with both their legs tangled together as they were, and both men so unwilling to separate. But, eventually, Katsuki went willingly, taking his leg back from over Izuku’s hip just long enough for his boxers and then Izuku’s to be strewn to the floor. It wasn’t lost on Izuku that that would mean that clothes were once again scattered on his side while Katsuki’s was pristine. Daily habits following them into bed. The little things that made their lives together.

“Can’t wait, Deku,” Katsuki panted.

Izuku got the hint and reached for the familiar box and bottle out of the bedside table. Katsuki never stopped leaning into him, pushing his face into Izuku’s neck, his chest, his shoulder, painting each one with kisses and nibbles. He nearly could have pushed Izuku off the edge of the bed just with the insistence of his kissing.

The bottle snapped open and Izuku dolloped lubricant on three fingers, using the other hand to hold the blankets up as he reached down between Katsuki’s legs.

“Just work the lube in—don’t worry about stretching,” Katsuki said, widening his legs, making himself easily available.

“Did you stretch earlier?” Izuku asked, brows furrowed. It didn’t feel like it, as he pressed two fingers in. Katsuki was tight with the evidence of weeks spent out of each other’s arms. Izuku began stretching him automatically, his fingers knowing the strokes by rote.

“No, but it’ll be fine, just—please.”

Katsuki put a hand to Izuku’s shoulder and pushed, truly almost knocking Izuku off the bed this time. With the reflexes of a hero, Katsuki pulled him back as Izuku’s legs shot diagonally across the bed in an effort to rebalance himself. As both of their heads lolled over the edge of the bed, they began to giggle. Their rumbling chests reverberated against each other and their foreheads pressed together. They breathed each other’s air and expelled it as laughter.

“Alright, fucker, get back here,” Katsuki huffed as he manhandled Izuku back onto the bed whilst Izuku continued to laugh, covering his face with his non-lube-slick hand.

“We can do it on the floor if you want, Kacch—”

“Play your cards carefully, Deku, wise guys don’t get laid.”

“Okay,” Izuku tried his best to cover a laugh; it came out as a snort, “so—”

“Just gimme the fucking lube.”

Izuku giggled as he went ahead and handed Katsuki the lube. His laughter deflated into a groan when, a moment later, Katsuki’s hand was firmly on his cock, stroking it slickly up and down. When Katsuki began to climb on top of him again, though, multiple alarm bells began to go off. He really hadn’t stretched Katsuki hardly at all, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. Also:

“Kacchan, condom.”

“No,” Katsuki said simply, lining Izuku’s cock up with his hole, slick slipping against slick.

“Wh-What?”

Katsuki had a hard rule about condoms. Izuku had never bottomed without one—Katsuki’s demand—so he didn’t know, but Katsuki said that the cleanup wasn’t worth it. That if the cleanup had a chance of lasting longer than the actual sex, he was out. Condoms forever.

“Just once,” Katsuki whispered, as though Izuku was the one who needed convincing.

Izuku put a hand on his cheek. “Whatever you want, Kacchan.”

Katsuki kissed him softly, their lips only breaking apart when Katsuki began to lower himself onto Izuku. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, as it read on both of their faces. Katsuki’s eyebrows were drawn, teeth clenched as he hissed. Izuku felt as though his heart was stopping—chest suddenly too wide or too small—with how tight and hot it was. But he trusted Katsuki to know what he was doing. And Katsuki was sticking with it, not popping off and saying “Nope” as he had been unafraid to do in the past. So Izuku just let his hand run down Katsuki’s broad bicep, stroking the muscle, feel how the heat that had covered his sleeping body was escaping into the room, into Izuku as well.

When Katsuki was finally seated atop Izuku’s hips, the both of them went still. No movement but for their ribs expanding into one another with each breath. For all the contact that they now shared, though, Katsuki’s eyes were still what struck Izuku the most. They were the thing he didn’t dare pull away from—why would he?

“Are you okay?” he finally asked quietly. It harkened back to their first time full of uncertainty and nervousness, unsure if what he was doing was okay. Although, Izuku wasn’t nervous now, even if his heart was beating in the same way. It had been so long since Izuku had felt Katsuki like this, flesh against flesh, that it might as well have been the first time.

Katsuki was quiet for a second but for his evening breaths. Izuku could imagine all of the once-worn responses: Don’t you dare worry about me, Deku and I’ll kill you for worrying about me!

“Fine,” Katsuki said finally, his voice almost shuddering over the single syllable. “Lemme just…”

Izuku brought Katsuki’s lips towards his—they were already on their way to him, he swore. They kissed lazily as Katsuki slowly ground atop Izuku’s lap. Everything was so much more than usual. Hotter, slicker, more sensitive a thousand times over. Izuku wasn’t sure how long he’d last like this. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but lift his hips up in relaxed intervals. He wasn’t really pushing deeper—there wasn’t any deeper to go—but his body could barely help it. It just naturally wanted to give itself to Katsuki.

“Mm, you’re gonna kill me, nerd.”

Izuku could have scoffed, but he didn’t have the breath in him. “I could never, Kacchan.”

“No,” Katsuki responded immediately, as was natural to him. “You…you…”

Katsuki broke apart his own speech as he began to move, really move, lifting himself off of Izuku and landing softly. But only via his hips—their chests and faces stayed close, legs flanking each other like vines growing in twain. Each thrust was slow, deliberate, in no real rush. Like they’d edge each other forever and then fall asleep like that, without finishing. Just locked together until morning. Izuku didn’t half mind the idea.

As Izuku came to understand Katsuki’s rhythm, he began thrusting in turn, their skin not quite slapping together. The words of sex were sometimes so violent: slapping, pounding, smacking—never just meeting. But that’s what Izuku and Katsuki’s hips were doing: meeting, just kissing each other before rising and coming together yet again. There was an ease to it, a familiarity that had taken years to find with Katsuki, but was now his greatest possession. A gem he’d swallowed to keep safe in his core, whole and warm.

“Can I…?” Izuku asked, putting his arms on Katsuki’s sides. His elbows were held tight at Katsuki’s waist while his hands were up at the top of Katsuki’s ribs. He didn’t finish the question, but there was trust in Katsuki’s eyes as Izuku lowered him back to the bed, both of them on their sides, Izuku’s cock still deep within Katsuki.

Katsuki’s leg came around Izuku’s hip and it was just like when they were tangled in sleep together, trying to osmose the other’s comfort before another day of work. Two different levels of intimacy were twisting and melding and it led Izuku to kiss Katsuki’s cheek, just like he would when they were lucky enough to go to sleep together. Katsuki turned into it and slotted their lips together once again as Izuku began finding a rhythm with which to thrust from his side.

It took a learning curve; somehow this position was new to them even after all this time. Face to face, as was typical, but each one of them having half the leverage, neither able to take control completely. As they began to find their way into it, Izuku couldn’t help but think that maybe it was perfect for them.

The bed dampened with their sweat as Izuku was almost overwhelmed by the heat. The fact that they were doing this under the covers, which had already been warmed by Katsuki’s body. The fact that there were no barriers between them, clothing or condom. It was nothing but skin on skin, mouth on mouth, and Izuku was sweating through it, making every touch slippery and perhaps unsure. But they just gripped each other harder and carried on, getting closer to completion all the time.

Katsuki’s cockhead kept rubbing against Izuku’s stomach, bumping over an abdominal muscle here, catching on his belly button there. But Izuku had no idea if it was enough, if Katsuki was getting close. Whatever it was, Izuku would probably finish the moment Katsuki did, if not sooner. If he lost his discipline, he’d probably find himself cumming deep in Katsuki in an instant—which he still didn’t even know if Katsuki would be okay with. So he reached for Katsuki’s hand and clenched it, holding on.

“Deku…” Katsuki whispered into Izuku’s mouth. His voice was so light while the word bore such weight. Weight from years of history, accolades, and love.

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispered back. “Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan.”

They were hardly kissing, mouths barely moving. It was more like CPR, if anything, mouths hovering over top each other, each feeding the other life-giving breaths. Like they were saving each other’s lives.

“ ‘M close,” Katsuki murmured, and Izuku ground in, letting Katsuki’s cock smear precome across his lower abs.

“I’m…gonna cum with you,” Izuku grit out, his breath catching at the end, when Katsuki twitched around him. “Want me to pull out?”

“No.” Katsuki shook his head, the tips of his bangs brushing through the sweat that beaded on Izuku’s forehead. “I’m gonna fucking regret it, but no.”

“I never regret anything with Kacchan.” For once, his voice came out whole and clear.

Katsuki huffed a couple times, words seemingly lost on his tongue. His eyes kept screwing shut, almost in grimaces of pain. But little sounds would escape him, groans and mewls, and so Izuku kept going. He kept going and going, never once losing their rhythm, never once losing his damp grip on Katsuki’s hand. And the moment that Katsuki clenched around him, Izuku was gone, keening gutterally in Katsuki’s mouth as he came, finally came inside Katsuki.

It was almost unbearable, being hugged so tight by a heat so searing. To feel his spend spilling into his lover as Katsuki released between their bodies. Maybe it was the exhaustion or perhaps some sweat had made it into his eyes, but Izuku found himself blinking rapidly, catching some kind of moistness in his eyelashes.

“Fucking sap,” Katsuki whispered, brushing his thumb under one of Izuku’s eyes and then the other.

“Mhmm,” Izuku agreed. His nose brushed against Katsuki’s as he nodded and then their lips met again in the tiniest kiss.

It was a different feeling, pulling out without a condom to tie up and dispose of. Izuku hissed at the oversensitivity—the exchange made for the sparks he’d felt while inside, he supposed. Then they scooted over to the dry side of the bed, the cold of the clean sheets like a rush of water over their already cooling bodies.

They were still wrapped up face to face. Katsuki said something about his leaking ass being his problem, not Izuku’s. But whatever the reason, Izuku didn’t mind. He never had quite worked out a favorite between sleeping facing each other or tucked together back to front. He’d take both forever.

“I regret a lot of things with you,” Katsuki murmured eventually, after their breaths had already steadied, eyes already closed. It took a second for Izuku to realize what he was talking about. But they blinked back open as Katsuki continued speaking, his eyes radiating with a kind of fervor that Izuku usually saw reserved for combat. When there was someone to save. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop regretting those things, but I’ve never regretted a single second since we started. So make sure that’s in your nerd brain.”

Somehow, they’d kept holding hands. In the agreement not to bother with underwear or the mess of the bed, they’d stayed together, wrapped up as much as possible. A greedy exchange. Their hold had loosened in the pursuit of sleep, but Katsuki had tightened it again. Izuku squeezed right back.

“I know, Kacchan, I know.”

“I’ll give you everything.”

“I know, Kacchan.”

They’d had an agreement long ago not to dwell on the past. Both men had assumed with a certain clairvoyance that they’d never make it through if they did. So neither of them were ever trying to make up for one thing or another—they’d get lost that way. Instead, what they made together was always new. New and not perfect but theirs, all theirs.

“Now sleep, Deku. Y’kept me up.”

Izuku chuckled, the mint long lost from his breath. “Sleep, sleep, Kacchan.”

and in the morning when I’m waking up I swear that you’re the first thing that I’m thinking of I feel it in my body, know it in my mind oh I, I’m gonna love you for a long time

[heyitsperfect]

Please say yes - Happy Lowman

Warnings: kissing, mention of sexual actions

A/N: I’m not going to write a part 2 for this. It is what it is. 

Request by @aimkatsz Hey! I know I already send a request but this has been nagging at me for a week... hear me out please, what about the reader and Happy are together for a year and the reader is so in love with him that she decides to propose to him. She goes all out with rose petals, candles and dinner! What would be his reaction????? Would he say yes????

Never in a million years would’ve Happy thought that he would fall for a woman so hard and fast like he did for you. He can trust you with everything, talk to you about everything and never received a judgemental look or word from you. When you first started dating you wanted to take things slow, but with his busy life and the club and everything that was going on slow didn’t work out. After three months of dating you moved in with him. It was only logical because you already spent most of the time there and Happy would be calmer when he knew you’d be at his place. He made you his Old Lady the moment the last box was unpacked. He tattooed his crow the same night on your ribs. 

The next logical step would be getting married. Happy had already everything planned out but little did he know you were planning the same. You were never a woman who waited for a man. You were the one who suggested to move in with him and you were the one who desperately wanted to become his Old Lady. This was only a small part of why Happy fell so fast and hard for you. 

Happy was on a week long run with the rest of the club. You wanted to give him a proper welcome and prepared the most fancy dinner at your home. You spent the whole day in the kitchen cooking and preparing Happy's favorites dishes, cleaning and decorating the whole house with candles and rose petals and all that romantic stuff you always made fun of. The last thing was dressing up yourself. Happy had called you two hours ago to say he would be there in no time. Enough time for you to shower and get dressed. You did your hair nicely and put on some light yet sexy make-up. What to wear was a way harder decision. First of all you picked out your, no, Happy’s favorite lingerie set paired with a red bodycon dress and some heels.You looked absolutely flawless and like a meal to devour. 

------///

Everything was ready and the only thing missing was Happy. As on cue the front door opened and a wide grinning Happy came walking into view. 

“Wow.” was all he could get out. You walked over to him and placed a small kiss on his lips. 

“Thank you.” he placed his hands on your hips slightly squeezing and pulling you closer. Oh lord you knew what he was up to when he started kissing down your neck and finding your sweet spot. 

“No no no no. As much as I would love to, there is a dinner waiting for you and I didn’t spend the whole day in the kitchen to let it get cold. You can have me later in every way you want me.” you kissed him one last time and led him to the table where everything was set up.

You had a beautiful dinner and your nerves were getting the best of you now. Happy was getting handsy again and it was now or never. 

“Hap, I have to ask you something.” you looked at him and took his hands in yours. He wasn’t having it. Instead he pulled you over so you were sitting on his lap sideways, arms around his neck while his arms encircled your waist. 

“What is it?” he looked up at you with eyes full of love, lust and adoration. 

“I know it’s only been a year, but it has been the most incredible year of my life and I wondered if you would do me the honor and become my husband. Will you marry me Happy?” you were glad you were sitting or else your knees would’ve given out. 

----////

In one swift move you jolted awake breathing heavily looking for Happy who was waking up from his peaceful sleep. 

“What’s wrong, bad dream?” he asked you, sleep lacing in his voice. 

“No, kind of a weird dream. I was proposing to you.” 

“And what did I say?” he smirked at you and took your hand in his playing with the ring on your finger. 

“I don’t know. I woke up before you answered.” You laid back down with your head on Happy’s chest, one arm thrown over his stomach while he held you close. 

“Good thing you said yes when I asked you.” he placed a kiss on your hairline. 

“What would you have answered? If I really would’ve asked you?” you looked up at him. 

“I would’ve said yes. It doesn't matter who asks. I want to spend the rest of life with you. I love you babe.”

“I love you too!” you leaned up and kissed him. 

A/N: I hope this works out for you. I don’t think Happy would let that happen. He would insist of being old school and e the one to propose to his girl. 

[tokusashi]

I will probably stirr a hate and some people I will have to block I guess, since I saw a few posts where people were saying they will choke person x if something, something, but oh well.

I still like Endeavor as a character 😀

Seriously nothing have changed for me in that factor. I never said he was a good, perfect man or that he never traumatized his children, but as character he is interesting to watch and read about. It's also interesting how we had a character who did really bad things but after realizing all that- Tries to do better and be better and yet failing. His obsession ruined his family and that's tragic for all of them. Would I like to have a man like that in my family? Absolutely not. I had other experiences and that's enough. But do I believe that if person A wants to change, he should do so? Yes! (While I hate comparing real life to manga, it's like the situation with anonymous alcoholics, if you don't believe they deserve a chance to be better human, then why AA meetings exist in the first place?)

Yet some people are acting like liking a complex, not totally good characters, twisted ones even or just not good means that I would like to do the same things as they did.

Yeah, because I like Zira in Lion King II some people would love to think that I also would create a weapon out of my son to destroy my enemy. Logic imr?

And Yes, I enjoy Tenko and Enji characters at the same time for how they're written. It is possible. I hated Endeavor only at start, when we meet him as one dimensional villain in sports festival arc, because back then there was nothing complex in his character. All I could've say about him back then was "amazing power, trash character".

The only character in those chapters and overall that I don't like is in fact AFO. Why? Because despite him doing horrible things he is pretty much... bland. Like I never cared at all about what AFO wants, or his character or anything. Everything can happen to him and I will just shrug because I dont care for this character even when im mad sometimes at what he did (like totally screwing up Tenko), but good for his victims if he will perish, since there's not even 1 inch of remorse there or, well, anything. He is just plain evil, with nothing else to add there, so why would I care? He is created to be defeated, that's all.

I love Touya's character despite that he is not flawless (or maybe THANKS to that? Because flawless characters are kinda boring) and yet it doesn't mean I'm ignoring his trauma or the fact that even after he died he still was taken and abused yet again (high five with Oboro at this point?).

This post is kinda about everything and nothing, but I guess I just wanted to write it, so I did.

If some antis hate the fact that I won't go along with Enji haters bandwagon, then well, you can block me or ignore me or whatever, just do what normally you would at this hour? Seriously. That's not a hard thing to do.

[miss-smutty]

Immortal Chapter 3

A/N- My first OC and I'm super excited for it and this story! Hope you love her ☺️

Summary- Thor learns more about his mystery love interest

Word count- 1,952k

Pairing- Thor x OC

18+ Only!

Posted: 21st June 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires

Part 1. Part 2.

The last thing Aria remembered before her vision pooled with bright lights and stars, was a car heading straight towards her. She felt the impact, her body flown through the air and crashing back to the ground with a sickening thud. She expected to hear her bones fracture into pieces with the impact of the car, to see her life flash in front of her eyes as she floated through the air. The world around her paused, time going incredibly slow, the speed causing the wind to blow her hair around the curve of her jaw in slow motion. She'd expected to feel the rough tar of the road, peeling away her skin as she landed in a heap, to feel tiny fragments of gravel imbedded in her soft and malleable flesh.

When none of that came though, she wasn't overly surprised. Instead of feeling excruciating pain, she revelled in the feeling of flying, enjoying the moment while it lasted until she was pulled back to earth and ultimately, back to reality. The reality of knowing the look on people's faces as she stood unharmed after a brutal collision that should've left her for dead.

Aria kept her eyes screwed shut, willing herself to just disappear and not have to deal with the backlash. The accident drawing unwanted and dangerous attention to her, attention she'd worked so hard to avoid. I mean she'd run away from her Prince Charming just to avoid this sort of attention, it was kind of ironic really.

Aria slowly opened one of her eyes, her vision blurred and glassy, there were people around her. Lots of faces she didn't recognise, hazy shapes all merging together until her eyes settled on one familiar face. Thor.

His distinct features standing out through the obscurity of her vision. Piercing sky blue eyes shone brightly, until that was all she could see. Eyes so clear she could see straight into his soul, a soul so pure it made her eyes sting. Thor's story playing through her mind like a movie, she blinked repeatedly willing it to stop, wrinkling her eyes tightly shut again.

"Everybody move out of the way, give her space. MOVE!" Thor bellowed over Aria, the crowd dispersing at once with his all commanding tone. He crouched down beside her, giving her body the once over, gulping deeply at the feel of her curves under his touch. Shaking his head while trying to ignore the unwanted thoughts that so helplessly followed. Wondering morbidly if it would be the second and last time he would be able to feel that magnetic pull he felt when their bodies touched.

Aria's tense muscles relaxed at the feel of Thor's hands smoothing down her legs and arms, checking for broken bones he was never going to find. A gasp left her lips when he lifted her T-shirt up just above her belly button, his fingers prodding gently at the softness of her flesh. It took all she had not to giggle, as his fingers tickled against her bare midriff.

Thor continued kneeding his hands softly around her precious torso, more than sure he would find something life threatening. Knowing there was absolutely no way a Midgardian could escape a collision like that with absolutely no lasting scars. His brow furrowed with suprise at finding absolutely no broken bones. Not even one. Even more surprising he found no cuts or bruises, not even a graze.

Aria lay before him, a vision of perfectness, her dark as night hair blanketing her defined features. She bent her hour glass curves, bringing her knees up to her chest. Thor's eyes widened, drawn to the definition of her hips and the swell of her backside in the tight black jeans she wore. He reached forward to stroke the silky hair away from her face, anxious to see her flawless skin and the rosy pink flush of her cheeks.

Aria's eye's fluttered open when she felt Thor's cold fingers brush against her clammy cheek. She recognised the painful look of anguish in his expressive blue eyes, the worry set deep within them.

"I'm ok, help me up please." She stuttered, trying to raise her head from the ground, twisting her body around. Thor's arms immediately reached out, cushioning his large hand behind her head.

"I don't think that's wise, you've been flung about five metres down the street. You need medical assistance. How are you even…" 

"Thor I'm fine, just dizzy. Help me stand please." Aria stopped him mid-sentence, desperate to get out of there before the ambulances arrived, not knowing how she was meant to explain how she was completely fine after being hit by a fast moving car and thrown at speed for quite a distance. The car alone should've broken bones and left her with internal bleeding and that's before she shattered onto the ground five metres down the street. She shouldn't even be alive, never mind perfectly capable of walking away unharmed.

Thor gave in and helped her to her feet, hooking his arms underneath hers and pulling her up gently. Aria's legs buckled when she stood but Thor was there to catch her and hold her steady, the bulk of him stood behind her as he waited for her to find her feet. 

Shaking loose from his grasp, squirming free, she turned to bolt but not before his thick fingers wrapped around her wrist. Aria's heart sank when she realised she wasn't getting away from his restraint, not then and maybe not ever. Thor wasn't about to lose her again, not after she was nearly taken from him for good.

The crowd of people that had gathered around to witness the miracle, the deception of logic, begin whispering between themselves. Sounds of astonishment filled the air at the spectacle before them. Thor pulled Aria against his chest, wrapping his arms around her back in an embrace. The warmth of his body was comforting for her,

the familiarity of his heartbeat thrumming against her ear. The sounds around them melting away as they held each other on the sidewalk, as they became lost in each other once more they heard the faint signs of cheering.

Aria let herself smile, she let herself be happy in the moment if for only a minute before the cheering and whistling was drowned out by the sound of approaching sirens. Thor noticed the visible panic on her face as she pulled back from him, searching the streets for a place to hide. 

If he knew anything after seeing that look in her eyes, that terrible look of fear in her emerald green, Doe eyes, he knew he would do absolutely anything to protect her. Thor knew it the first time he ever laid eyes on Aria, he would always do everything within his power to keep her safe.

Without a moment's hesitation he pulled Aria by the hand, taking her with him as he ran down the street. Glancing at her through his peripheral and taking a moment to appreciate the sight of her next to him, the feel of her fingers wrapped tightly around his hand as she gave her trust to him. The wind blowing through her shoulder length hair as they ran and realising that he hadn't needed to slow his pace so she could keep up. She was running at the exact same speed as him, running along side him effortlessly as they dodged the obstacles in their paths. Aria was just as agile, just as strong and with the exact same level of reflexes as Thor.

If Aria wasn't in a state of panic she would have enjoyed the feeling of running alongside Thor, to finally not have to hold back any longer. It was a big deal for her to put her trust in anybody let alone somebody she had just met but she didn't have much choice. She needed to get out of there and fast. 

They turned the corner together, down a narrower street lined with trash cans and through an even smaller alley.

With no where else to go, they stopped at the end of the alleyway, a metal gate blocking their way. Closed in with no where to escape but luckily no one to escape from. Thor leant one hand against the sturdy gate, studying Aria closely. Waiting with bated breath to see whether she would need to catch her breath, instead she looked up at him bright eyed, crinkling her nose in the cutest way. Then he heard the most glorious sound he has ever heard, like sweet music to his ears. 

Aria couldn't help herself, she looked up at the god of Thunder, a look of confusion etched on his chiselled face and she laughed. Not a cute little girly giggle either but a full belly laugh, holding on to her knees as she struggled to breath through it. The truth was, she hadn't felt that exhilarated in years, running away from danger usually wasn't so exciting for her but having a tall, strong, literal God by her side made her feel invincible. Cheating death also added to the thrill, to that untouchable feeling. She knew it wouldn't last long, it never does, but she would enjoy it while it lasted.

"Why are you laughing?" Thor couldn't hide the amusement in his voice from the warm feeling it gave him seeing Aria laugh.

"The look on… People's faces." She struggled to get out between laughing. Her pink cheeks turning red, her head feeling light from lack of air. "On your face." Her chest rattled as she finally started calming down.

"Yes, although it wasn't funny at the time, I can see why it would make you laugh." He leaned his body against the gate. The sound making Aria jump, goosebumps travelling up her arms as her ears pricked, the laughter dissipated. 

"Relax, it's just me." He soothed, taking note of how easily she startled. Not only eyes like a doe but the behaviour too. "So you're unbreakable, you have no trouble keeping up with my speed and your stamina almost matches mine. That's without even mentioning the feeling I get when I'm near you." 

The uneasy feeling came, as she knew it would. She was deluded to think she would automatically begin to trust. To forget about the way people had used and hurt her in the past. So much so that she'd built a giant wall, locked her heart up and thrown away the key. Luckily Thor had his own hammer to knock down that wall and nothing would stop him finding that key.

"So what are you saying Thor?" She didn't hide the annoyance in her voice. Resting her back against the brick wall and slumping down to the ground.

"I want to get to know you, to figure out why we're quite clearly connected in some way. I don't even know your name?" 

"My name is Aria and I don't know what I am. I've spent my lifetime trying to figure it out. And I don't know, ok?" Aria sniffs.

"It's ok, I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you Aria. What about your parents?" 

"I don't know my parents, they probably realised what a freak I am and sent me away." 

"I can help you." Thor pushes back from the gate and slides himself down next to her. "We're similar. And you can not deny the connection we have." He nudges her with his elbow, willing her to look at him just as the sound of footfall echoed down the alley towards them. They both turned their heads at the same time, in the direction of the noise. The footsteps drawing closer.

[vivithefolle]

Hermione has more complimentary traits with Harry than she does with Ron. Hermione is logical and thinks through her decisions while Harry is ruled by his emotions and follows his instincts. She's enthusiastic/cheerful he is more introverted and bitter. She motivates him to do better, and he reminds her that there are more important things than books and cleverness. Ron's humour gets on Hermione's nerves and her cleverness does the same to him. Their differences tear them instead of balancing.

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HahahahahahHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh that’s a good one, oh thank you dude, oh I haven’t laughed this hard in... in like 24 hours, I saw a pretty great meme yesterday, but oh thank you that was hilarious.

...

... wait you were serious?

...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHONHONHONHONHONHONHAHAHAHHONHONSNORTHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEH HAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAH HAHAHAH HAHAHAH HAAHAHAHAHAAAAAA AAAAAH HAAAWWW... oh my god, oh my god... seriously you could build a whole ass circus out of that.

Alright! Now that the hilarity’s over...

Hermione has more complimentary traits with Harry than she does with Ron. 

Prove it.

Hermione is logical and thinks through her decisions 

... and sometimes she also makes very illogical decisions and acts very rash, see how she sets Snape on fire in first year which could have hurt everyone around, how she forgot she’s a witch, see how the Polyjuice plan was total bullshit and relied 100% on luck, see how she acted completely thoughtless to Ron in POA, see how she was completely harebrained at the end of OOTP due to pressure, her very thought-out reaction to Ron and Lavender being together, and such...

Harry is ruled by his emotions and follows his instincts 

You realize you just described Ron too, pal? Ron’s role in the Trio is the Heart. Harry’s the Body, since everything revolves around him, Hermione’s the Brain, Ron is the Heart. That’s how they work.

She's enthusiastic/cheerful 

......... cheerful?

Hermione?

Cheerful?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA(...)HAWHAWHAWHONHONHONHONHONHAHAHAHAHA(...)HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAhahahaha... haaaa...

Hermione may be enthusiastic about knowledge, but she’s not cheerful. She’s not the one who makes the jokes, she’s not the one who has a snarky comment on everything, she’s not the one who makes Harry laugh, she’s not the one who laughs at Harry’s jokes. That’s Ron’s job.

RON is the cheerful one. Sorry pal, better reread the books.

he is more introverted and bitter 

Pro tip: this can also describe Hermione to a degree. Though Hermione isn’t exactly an introvert, she’s more of a socially awkward extrovert. She’s not reading quietly in a corner and demurely asking “oh please don’t talk to me, I just want to read :(” she’s more like “I READ THAT BOOK ABOUT [social injustice] AND IT’S CLEAR TO ME NOW THAT [social injustice] IS UNACCEPTABLE, DO YOU HAVE A MOMENT TO TALK ABOUT [social injustice], I’M GONNA RAISE FUNDS TO PROMOTE AWARENESS AND EDUCATE PEOPLE ON THIS SUBJECT WILL YOU JOIN ME, WHY WON’T YOU JOIN ME, COME BACK WE’RE NOT FINISHED WITH THIS-”

... or, I could also... show you.

From your own dear and esteemed “Harmony Bible” that is Order of the Phoenix. *snort* “Harmony Bible”... oh my god, the delusion, the delusion...

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m  getting  sick  of  my  scar  hurting,  and  I’m  getting  bored  walking  down  that  corridor  every  night.”  He  rubbed  his  forehead  angrily.  “I  just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —”

“That’s  not  funny,”  said  Hermione  sharply.  “Dumbledore  doesn’t  want  you  to  have  dreams  about  that  corridor  at  all,  or  he  wouldn’t  have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.”

“I  am  working!”  said  Harry,  nettled.  “You  try  it  sometime,  Snape  trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!”

1. Example of Hermione not appreciating Harry’s humour

2. Example of Harry not liking Hermione’s “pushing him to do better”

Oooh, surprise! It’s not just Ron and Hermione that do the silent treatment to each other, Harry does it too! What a turn of events!

Hermione  nodded,  apparently  still  lost  in  thought.  Then,  quite  abruptly, she said, “But you shouldn’t have seen this at all, Harry.”

“What?” he said, taken aback.

“You’re supposed to be learning how to close your mind to this sort of thing,” said Hermione, suddenly stern.

“I know I am,” said Harry. “But —”

“Well,  I  think  we  should  just  try  and  forget  what  you  saw,”  said  Hermione firmly. “And you ought to put in a bit more effort on your Occlumency from now on.”

Harry was so angry with her that he did not talk to her for the rest of  the  day,  which  proved  to  be  another  bad  one.

Ah, lying, avoiding the subject, refusing to consider her opinion... how harmonious. *gigglesnort*

“But why haven’t you got Occlumency lessons anymore?” said Hermione, frowning.

“I’ve told you,” Harry muttered. “Snape reckons I can carry on by myself now I’ve got the basics...”

“So  you’ve  stopped  having  funny  dreams?”  said  Hermione  skeptically.

“Pretty much,” said Harry, not looking at her.

“Well, I don’t think Snape should stop until you’re absolutely sure you  can  control  them!”  said  Hermione  indignantly.  “Harry,  I  think  you should go back to him and ask —”

“No,” said Harry forcefully. “Just drop it, Hermione, okay?”

Hmmm, funny how Harry acts more like a teenager trying to sneak out of bed on Mama Ron and Hermione’s watch rather than as “Hermione’s perfect flawless soulmate uwu”!

He  had  ended  up  saying  to  them  truthfully  that  Sirius  wanted  Harry  to  resume  Occlumency  lessons.  He  had  been  regretting  this  ever since; Hermione would not let the subject drop and kept reverting to it when Harry least expected it.

“You can’t tell me you’ve stopped having funny dreams,” Hermione said now, “because Ron told me last night you were muttering in your sleep again...”

Harry  threw  Ron  a  furious  look.  Ron  had  the  grace  to  look  ashamed of himself.

Yes, she toooootally brings out “the best” of him... the best of all he’s learned at the Dursleys, which is avoidance, lying, deceiving... ha ha ha ha ha... oh, you guys, you’re so desperate, it’s almost cute. But then I remember that you keep bashing Ron and I stop feeling merciful.

“You are trying to block your mind, aren’t you?” said Hermione, looking beadily at Harry. “You are keeping going with your Occlumency?”

“Of course I am,” said Harry, trying to sound as though this ques-tion was insulting, but not quite meeting her eye. The truth was that he  was  so  intensely  curious  about  what  was  hidden  in  that  room  full  of dusty orbs that he was quite keen for the dreams to continue. 

Oh yes, he’s totally motivated to do better. He’s so motivated in fact he’s going to completely ignore her. And guess how that first date ends? With Sirius’ death. What a harmonious pairing.

“But Harry, you’ve just said it,” said Hermione fiercely. “Dumbledore  wanted  you  to  learn  to  shut  these  things  out  of  your  mind,  if  you’d done Occlumency properly you’d never have seen this —”

“IF   YOU   THINK   I’M   JUST   GOING   TO   ACT   LIKE   I   HAVEN’T SEEN —”

“Sirius told you there was nothing more important than you learn-ing to close your mind!”

“WELL, I EXPECT HE’D SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT IF HE KNEW WHAT I’D JUST —”

And and and!! Hohohoho I’m not done!! Let me show you, I have SO MUCH to show you!!

As early as Goblet of Fire... Ah, and don’t say that this is “evil Ron’s evil influence of evilness :(” because Ron literally is harder-working than Harry in possibly every way because Ron doesn’t have the luxury of being the protagonist to promote him to, say, youngest Seeker in a century. Yeah, Ron’s not a Mary Sue like that. But I digress.

"It's Christmas, Hermione," said Harry lazily; he was rereading Flying with the Cannons for the tenth time in an armchair near the fire.

Hermione looked severely over at him too. "I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes!"

"Like what?" Harry said as he watched Joey Jenkins of the Cannons belt a Bludger toward a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.

"That egg!" Hermione hissed.

"Come on, Hermione, I've got till February the twenty-fourth," Harry said.

He had put the golden egg upstairs in his trunk and hadn't opened it since the celebration party after the first task. There were still two and a half months to go until he needed to know what all the screechy wailing meant, after all.

"I just thought you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet," she said. "Really get to work on that egg."

"Oh I - I reckon I've got a pretty good idea what it's about now," Harry lied.

"Have you really?" said Hermione, looking impressed. "Well done!"

Harry’s insides gave a guilty squirm, but he ignored them. He still had five weeks to work out that egg clue, after all, and that was ages... whereas if he went into Hogsmeade, he might run into Hagrid, and get a chance to persuade him to come back.

... but you know what makes Harry change his mind about lying about the egg? Or rather, who?

So you may argue that oh là là, Harry feels guilty for lying to his great soulmate Hermoanie and waah isn’t it so romantic...

Even though Harry can and does acknowledge that Hermione means well… it’s not enough for him. He will lie, avoid her, and go behind her back, like a child would with their parent, and even though he may feel guilty about it, it’s not enough to deter him.

Hagrid's miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile.

"Tha's my boy. . . you show 'em, Harry, you show 'em. Beat 'em all."

Lying to Hagrid wasn't quite like lying to anyone else. Harry went back to the castle later that afternoon with Ron and Hermione, unable to banish the image of the happy expression on Hagrid's whiskery face as he had imagined Harry winning the tournament. The incomprehensible egg weighed more heavily than ever on Harrys conscience that evening, and by the time he had got into bed, he had made up his mind - it was time to shelve his pride and see if Cedric's hint was worth anything.

And of course Half-Blood Prince, and if you try to tell me “buuutt hermoanie was ooc :((((” you can put a cactus up your rear you coward.

Welp. Not Ron, not Hermione. Hagrid.

Welcome to the world, Ha... Hagry? Harrid? Oh whatever. Here you go, Hagrid brings the best out of Harry, Harry feels more guilt at the thought of lying to Hagrid than anyone else. OTP.

She’s certainly not encouraging Harry to try new stuff. How is that supposed to help him improve? How is that supposed to make him do better?

“How are you doing that?” demanded Hermione, who was redfaced and whose hair was growing bushier and bushier in the fumes from her cauldron; her potion was still resolutely purple.

“Add a clockwise stir—”

“No, no, the book says counterclockwise!” she snapped.

Harry shrugged and continued what he was doing.

For or the rest of the week’s Potions lessons Harry continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince’s instructions wherever they deviated from Libatius Borage’s, with the result that by their fourth lesson Slughorn  was  raving  about  Harry’s  abilities,  saying  that  he  had  rarely  taught  anyone  so  talented.   Neither  Ron  nor  Hermione  was  delighted  by  this.  Although  Harry  had  offered  to  share  his  book  with both of them, Ron had more difficulty deciphering the handwriting than Harry did, and could not  keep  asking  Harry  to  read  aloud  or  it  might  look  suspicious.  Hermione,  meanwhile,  was  resolutely plowing on with what she called the “official” instructions, but becoming increasingly bad-tempered as they yielded poorer results than the Prince’s.

In fact

(dyslexic!Ron dyslexic!Ron dyslexic!Ron)

Well isn’t that fun? Harry is being the “best” at something... and Hermione doesn’t like it.

Incredibly, and to Hermione’s increasing resentment, Harry’s best subject had suddenly become Potions, thanks to the Half-Blood Prince.  

she seems

The only person who did not find these charms amusing was Hermione, who maintained a rigidly disapproving expression throughout and refused to talk at all if Harry had used the Muffliato spell on anyone in the vicinity.

to hate

Hermione's expression could not have been any smugger; she had loathed being out-performed in every Potions class. She was now decanting the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into ten different crystal phials. More to avoid watching this irritating sight than anything else, Harry bent over the Half-Blood Prince's book and turned a few pages with unnecessary force.

that Harry is doing great.

(Oh look. Harry is irritated at the mere sight of Hermione. Well that’s definitely a hint they should marry!!! /s)

“Are you telling me,” said Hermione, “that you're going to go back—?”

“And get the book? Yeah, I am,” said Harry forcefully. "Listen, without the Prince I'd never have won the Felix Felicis. I'd never have known how to save Ron from poisoning, I'd never have—”

“—got a reputation for Potions brilliance you don't deserve,” said Hermione nastily.

And then let’s remember Hermione still nattering about Occlumency through Deathly Hallows, or how she breaks Harry’s wand and Harry is “desiring nothing more than to get away from her”, and all that... ah but of course you won’t ever see that in all your “Harmony” analyses, because there’s no way to spin that positively... ha ha ha...

Accomplishing his mission from Dumbledore? Saving Ron’s life? Nah, Hermione is more concerned with one thing: having her top spot back.

*slow clap* Friend. Of. The. Year. Why does anyone like this character again? Selfish brat.

he reminds her that there are more important things than books and cleverness 

You have again stolen Ron’s qualities to pretend they’re Harry’s/Hermione’s.

And here they come... the receipts... all the receipts...

This happens right during the Firebolt fight. It’s still Ron who cares for Hermione, even though he’s angry with her, while Harry is like “oh ok but gotta finish Snape’s essay tho”. Priorities.

“How’s she doing it?” Ron muttered to Harry one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. Harry looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books. 

“Doing what?”

“Getting to all her classes!” Ron said. “I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday’s lesson, but Hermione can’t’ve been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she’s never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she’s never missed one of them either!”

Harry didn’t have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione’s impossible schedule at the moment; he really needed to get on with Snape’s essay. Two seconds later, however, he was interrupted again, this time by Wood. - Prisoner of Azkaban

It’s Ron who understands that Hermione is driving herself mad. Ron, not Harry. Bye, can’t hear you over the canon facts.

“I don’t believe it!” Hermione wailed. “Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!”

“You know what, Hermione?” said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermione had been using as a pillow. “I reckon you’re cracking up. You’re trying to do too much.”

“No, I’m not!” said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. “I just made a mistake, that’s all! I’d better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry... I’ll see you in Divination!” - Prisoner of Azkaban

Later on...

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry, 'Arry -" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

And she refused to eat another bite.

[…]

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"

But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up. - Goblet of Fire, chapter 12

Dinner was a subdued affair that night. Harry and Ron did not talk much, but ate with gusto, having studied hard all day. Hermione, on the other hand, kept putting down her knife and fork and diving under the table for her bag, from which she would seize a book to check some fact or figure. Ron was just telling her that she ought to eat a decent meal or she would not sleep that night, when her fork slid from her limp fingers and landed with a loud tinkle on her plate. - Order of the Phoenix, chapter 31

Hmm, now it looks to me that Harry is mostly oblivious to Hermione and it’s Ron who’s taking care of her. But hey, “hArMoAnY” I guess!

Ron's humour gets on Hermione's nerves 

Fake news, it’s actually Harry’s humour that Hermione doesn’t like.

Really, just read this essay, written by someone who actually read the books without cherry-picking them, it should show you how blatanly wrong you are.

her cleverness does the same to him. 

*deep breath*

WHY YOU ALWAYS LYIIIIIIN, WHY THE FUCK YOU LYIIIIIIN, OH MY GOD STOP FUCKIN LYING

Again, a comprehensive list of BOOK QUOTES because I’ve dedicated too much time to proving you wrong: https://www.quora.com/How-many-times-has-Ron-Weasley-supported-Hermione-and-told-her-how-amazing-and-talented-she-is/answer/Issy-Dodds

Anyway Anon...

Your ‘Harmony’ is built on a pile of lies, blatant Ron Weasley erasure and a creepy fetishistic obsession with making a teenage girl look like she’s the ideal life partner for a guy who blatantly does NOT want her to be his life partner. Yall have issues.

[fairymadnessyeah]

Roman’s Nightmare

Summary: Roman could never have imagined that leaving Remus with Logan would lead to THIS.

Notes: This is a Modern Setting AU, where I will put all happy, funny one-shots. No angst.

AO3 Link

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"Thanks for letting me stay here, dear brother. We are going to have loads of fun~," with the way his twin brother was smiling, Roman doubted it.

"Just... try not to disgust my roommates," Roman sighs. "You are only staying until you finish moving into your new home. So don't get too comfortable," he reminds the other.

Remus and Roman might have been brothers, but neither one of them liked the other very much. They looked the same, but the two couldn't be any more different. From childhood to adulthood, the two were always at each other's throats. Roman had been glad the day he was able to afford to leave Remus' side. And now, he had to house his thot of a twin brother for a few days until his stuff arrived. Great.

Why couldn't his roommates say no? His father would have left it alone if the others weren't okay with it. But noooo, Patton had to be his dad-self and house the STD rat bastard Remus. And Logan thought it was a 'logical solution', so he saw no problem with it. And Virgil had accepted, just not to contradict the other two. No matter what Roman told them about Remus, they had accepted.

Even if he told them about the knife collection, the serial-killers trading cards, the time he pushed a man off a window, or his taxidermy hobby. They thought he was inventing it all. Too bad, he wasn't. Remus did all of that and more. And he couldn't wait for the other to realize their mistake after a night of him staying with them.

The two brothers finally arrive at Roman's flat, and they carry Remus' suitcase to the apartment. Their living space was simple. Just a kitchen and living room that had two hallways on each side. At the end of each hallway was a bathroom, and two rooms on each side. Roman and Patton had the right, and Virgil and Logan had the left. Remus would sleep on the living room. Roman didn't want him anywhere near his awards, not after he melted the others when they were six.

The two going inside, and find Logan sitting on the couch reading. When he notices the two come in, he stands up and fixes his necktie and glasses before coming to them and introducing himself.

"Good evening. I am Logan Logika. I believe you are Roman's brother. I hope our accommodations are to your liking," he stretches his hand towards the new guy.

Remus stares for a few seconds, and then licks his hand with a grin, and shakes Logan's hand. "Remus Nazione!" he exclaims.

Logan stares at his now wet hand, and then at Remus judgingly. He quickly shakes it off with a shrug, and steps into the kitchen for a minute. Roman, however, had just saw a golden opportunity with which he could get rid of Remus. If Logan, who was the rational one out of them, saw how irrational Remus was, then he wouldn't want him in their apartment, and he would kick him out. And achieving that would be easy. The only thing he had to do was let Logan spend more than an hour with Remus.

With the idea on his mind, the red wearing man takes out his phone and makes it look as if he just got a message. "Oh, no! This is horrible! Outrageous!" he exclaims dramatically.

"Roman, is there a problem?" Logan asks, carrying the plate of cookies Patton had done to welcome Remus.

"Did dad finally tell you he found you in a dumpster and feeding off a racoon with rabies?" Remus grins at the unpleasant image.

"No. It's the director of the play. There has been a wardrove malfunction, and they need me there ASAP," he lies, and watches as Logan nods and Remus squints at him suspiciously. "But I can't possibly leave. Remus is my brother and my responsibility. I can't abandon him to his luck," he says, performing his damned best.

Remus murmurs something (not like you haven't before), and then Logan falls right in his trap. "Well, if it is important, then I believe I can keep Remus company for you, Roman. It will be no problem for me," he will be regretting that statement later.

"Really, Logan? You are a saviour, A hero. Call me if you need anything," he is out of the door in an instant.

Was it rude to use Logan as his space goat? Maybe. Was it necessary? Absolutely. Remus and his unfiltered no-shame persona would scare the crap out of Virgil, and it would taint Patton's innocence. No, this was for the good of their house-hold and sanity. Now, he just had to find a place to hide and wait for Logan's desperate call for help.

But where to?

Oh, he knew just the place.

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So, Virgil laughed in his face at his plan. It made Roman want to think twice when choosing a place to hide. Virgil had his own art studio, separate from the apartment. It was at the attic of an old building, where the haunted house was held every year on Halloween. He never understood why Virgil didn't simply live here since it was one of the edgiest places on earth. Virgil fitted right in there. But then again, the emo was a strange man in on itself.

At the end of the day, the two went back to their home and Roman still hadn't received the awaited call from Logan. As they reach the entrance of the building, they find Patton there. The three go up to the flat, and find Logan sitting on the couch with a book, wearing his pyjamas.

"Oh, Hello, everybody. I hope you had an efficient day at work today," he says, separating his eyes from the pages for just a second.

"Hey, Logan. Where's Remus?" Roman asks, worried the lunatic of his brother is not within stopping range.

"Oh, do not worry, Roman. Your brother is alright. He is sleeping in my room, he was tired," Logan explains.

"Oh. Alright. He didn't give you any trouble?" Roman asks.

"No, he didn't. I am actually quite fond of him. His knowledge is quite interesting, though a bit unusual. But I am not one judge on the interests of others," Logan says and turns to the next page.

"Great," Roman says through his teeth. He can't believe his plan didn't work out.

Virgil grins at him, in an 'I-told-you-so' way, and Patton, getting things ready to cook dinner. He is about to start cooking, when he notices something on Logan's neck.

"Oh, Logan did something happen? You have a bruise on your neck," he says and gets closer to look at it, before going to get the first aid kit.

"There is no need to worry, Patton. I am fine, it is not a bruise," Logan tries to calm him down.

"Yeah, Pat, that's not a bruise, that is a hickey," Virgil adds when he takes a closer look.

"A hickey!?" Roman exclaims.

"Yes, Roman. A hickey is a red-mark in the skin, usually left behind after the said place has been bitten and sucked on," Logan explains.

"Why- what- who-," Roman stammers.

"I'm sorry, Roman, but you need to finish your sentences, if you want me to answer them," Logan says.

"Wait," the actor suddenly stops, as the reality dawns on him. "No. No no no no no no no no no..." he chants with a disgusted face, as he moves around the apartment. He goes around the living room and then goes to his room.

"Should we check on him- oh, wait, he is coming back," Patton says, as he watches the show next to Virgil.

"... no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no, no. No. NO! Logan! Did you- did you sleep with Remus?" Roman asks, fearing the answer.

"No, Roman, I did not sleep with your brother, nor did I have intercourse with him," Roman sighs relieved. "However, we did have an intense kissing," Princey feels nauseous again. "Your brother appears to be interested in me. So, if I could have your permission, I would like to-"

"No! I am not giving you permission to have sex with my brother! Find someone else if you need d*ck that much!" Roman interrupts.

"Roman, language!" Patton exclaims.

"You misunderstand me, Roman. I only wish to treat your brother with the utmost respect, and take him out to dinner before we move further with the relationship..."

Roman didn't hear any more as he melted onto the floor in confusion. How did it come to this? How could such a flawless plan become such a mess? As he stays in the floor, he can hear Patton move to cook dinner and a door opening. As he looks up, he sees his brother jump up to Logan and ask him about the next D-appointment. That makes him moan in pain again. Virgil is the only one who takes pity of him, and starts patting his head.