pure fluff, fem reader, not proofread, katsuki really likes the way you smell, talks of marriage, katsuki being an absolute demon, biting bc is it rlly a cash fic if it doesn’t involve katsuki biting us ? lemme know if i missed sum else <3
a.n.: ..so this came to me in the middle of the night and i had to write it down before i forgot about it…please do not perceive me🫶🏾
katsuki keeps sniffing at your wrist.
for some reason, he keeps bringing your palm towards his face and you imagined he’d kiss it if he was feeling a little sweeter than usual or he’d bite your finger if he was feeling like a little shit.
imagine your surprise when instead, he just sniffs you and goes right back to watching tv.
he does it for the fifth time in the span of a few seconds and you turn your head that was smooshed into his chest staring at the tv to stare at him with a brow raised.
“katsuki.” he only grunts in response, nose pressed to your pulse point. a deep, grumbled noise comes from the deepest part of his chest when you try to pull your arm out of his grip.
“quit squirmin’. ”
“katsuki !” you squeal, giggling. katsuki grunts into your skin, pulling your hand closer to his face.
“what’re you doing ?” you chirp.
“ya smell like somethin’” is all he offers you for a response, your lip pulls up in confusion. you tilt your head.
“like what ?”
“i dunno, s’like—” he cuts himself off, pulls your hand away from his face to stare up at the ceiling in thought, only to bring it back to his nose.
you can’t help laughing at his behavior “ like what ?” you urge.
“different.” he settles “this some new perfume or somethin’ ?” he asks seriously, lifting himself up so he can sit up against the couch cushion and you follow, no longer laying but sitting up in his lap.
“not really, it’s this new body wash i found at the mall !” katsuki grunts in acknowledgment “was walking around with a friend and she recommended it to me, so i figured i’d give it a shot.” you explain.
“smells good right ?” you ask excitedly. katsuki damn near growls at your wrist, then he drops it and stuffs his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you tightly like he’s trying to squeeze you to death, pulling you closer to him.
“so fuckin’ good.” he rumbles, the way his voice deepens has shivers going down your spine and has you impossibly giddy.
“what soap is that ? need ta stock up on it.”
you roll your eyes “so you can steal it from me ? no thank you.”
“m’ your boyfriend, you’re s’posed to share with me. what’s that saying? what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours ?” his voice is smushed against the fabric of your clothes because he can’t stay away from your skin for more than three seconds, going back for whiffs like an addict. you wrap your arms around him with a snort.
“isn’t that saying usually for married couples ? we’re not married.”
“yet.”
your heartbeat quickens and you feel your skin prickle and go hot at how casually he uttered the word. you play around with the hairs on his nape.
“..yet” you utter quietly. his nose is pressed against your addams apple, deeming it his new favorite spot to sniff at you like a dog. “so until then, my secret stays with me.”
“tch, stingy woman.” he scoffs “might have to marry you sooner than i thought.” he smirks.
you move to shove your head into his shoulder in embarrassment and he straight up laughs, the asshole. you’d be angry if you weren’t as in love with him as you were in this very moment.
“oi, i told you to quit squirming.” he jests.
“katsukiii !” you whine. he only chuckles, greatly enjoying the way he’s tormenting you.
“what ?” he snorts, his nose is pressed to your shoulder “don’t act brand new, you knew i was gonna marry you.”
“this is bullying.” he barks out a loud laugh at your flustered response.
“me puttin’ a ring on that fuckin—” he grabs your hand again and presses his lips to your ring finger “divine smellin’ finger of yours is bullying ?” he chuckles.
“you’re so weird.” you can’t help the smile that grows against his shoulder and he feels it too, the smirk against your finger only grows.
“right back atcha.” he snickers, then bites into your shoulder like he’s trying to take a chunk out of you.
“ouch ! katsuki !” you yelp, smacking his back lightly, all he does is snicker like the evil motherfucker he is.
“sorry, baby.” he apologizes but you can hear in the teasing lilt in his voice he regrets absolutely nothing “ ya smell so good i couldn’t help it.”
a.n. : i actually don’t know if that saying is usually for married couples but pls ignore it for plot sake thx 🤞🏽💓
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Miyazaki's Retirement Declarations (chronologically)
Translated from last week's NHK documentary on the production of The Boy and The Heron (more under cut). I saw people posting a screencap of this and I just couldn't contain myself. THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON WAY LONGER THAN I IMAGINED LMFAO
This is from the NHK programme "Professional - Their Working Philosophy" (プロフェッショナル 仕事の流儀) a few days ago (16/12/2023). The episode investigates the production process of The Boy and the Huron, and how the late Takahata Isao influenced the movie.
(It was confirmed within the documentary that Mahito = Miyazaki, Great Uncle = Takahata Isao, The Heron = Suzuki Toshio, Kiriko = Yasuda Michiyo)
The documentary is currently available on the NHK Streaming Service (Location Limited). If you have your own ways of watching and you know Japanese, I would definitely recommend the episode as it gives a lot of much-needed context to The Boy and The Heron. Personally, I haven't found a way to watch it yet, so all I know about the documentary are hearsay I saw on Japanese twitter.
Original screencap:
Also, at the very end of the episode, Miyazaki was shown working on a Naucicaa piece without any explanation, which led to many people speculating whether he could be working on a sequel for Naucicaa of the Valley of the Wind.
What do yall think? Do you think he's going to finally retire or release yet another animated film in a few years? I would love to see Naucicaa 2 but I also feel like he really needs to... yknow, chillax a bit and stuff. He deserves a long ass vacation.
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the difference between karkat and kankri when it comes to their shared aspect of blood is that karkat, as a knight, will protect and cultivate the bonds between his friends and will form connections with others easily due to his empathetic nature, even if said others are fucked up people in the eyes of others (see: his whole deal with spades slick, the way he formed moriallegience with rampaging gamzee), people naturally come into his orbit, meanwhile kankri being a seer doesnt want to create a connection between himself and others, but he wants to understand and study how those bonds work between people, basically looking outside in on the relationships and forming a list of do's and dont's when it comes to cultivating that connection
in other words, karkats that one motherfucker at the party whos somehow friends with everyone here, no matter their background, and everyone fucking loves that foul-mouthed guy, meanwhile kankri is standing in the corner like a creep and nobody knows exactly what his deal is but he knows what everyones deal is and somehow has knowledge of all of partygoers dirty laundry, even if theyve never seen him in their fucking life
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TW: discussion of something approximating suicidal tendencies but with the usual crack programming of this blog
“Ah, High General Windu”, says Fox, pleasantly. “So we meet again.”
High General Windu raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, Fox thinks, though it’s getting hard to tell with all the blood rushing to his head. “If I let you go, will you try to throw yourself out of another window?”
Fox makes a vague shrugging motion - or tries to, anyways. It’s hard to tell where any of his limbs are going, hanging upside down in the air as he is. “I am willing to discuss terms.” A bridge will do just fine.
Impossibly, the High General’s eyebrows climb even further up his forehead. “A compromise, then, esteemed Commander.” And so, he righths Fox the head way up in the air, but leaves him floating just above the ground, at which point several painted shells come skidding around the corner followed by billowing robes and screeches.
“WHAT”, says Kote, calmly, “THE BANTHA-KARKED, FORCE-LOVING KRIFF, FOX.”
“You’ll short out your helmet mic”, Fox advises him, sagely. Fondly, he thinks back to decimating his own on only his second time in the newly-christened official Coruscant Guard Scream Closet. He’d just received the comm about the Zillo Beast being transported to 000, and made sure to take his bucket off thereafter to improve the quality of his closet time.
High General Windu’s face does something complicated between sympathy and constipation.
Because the Galaxy doesn’t hate Fox enough already and Cody wasn’t enough on his own, Wolffe elbows his way through their batch to plant himself in front of him, shoulders squared and shaking with repressed rage. “If you try that again, dickhead”, he begins, in a low growl that quite frankly sounds more cringe that intimidating, “I’m going to resurrect you and then kill you again.”
“Ah, Wolffe”, Plo Koon says, in his deep, shivery timbre, “Remember our conversations about effective conflict resolution and communication of needs?”
Wolffe’s eyes narrow at Fox, because all non-Guard are sweet summer children who walk around buckets off on 000 like absolute lunatics. Fox prays they never have to find out why that’s a bad idea. “I feel”, his ori’vod presses out between clenched teeth, “that if you make me watch you throw yourself out of another window, I’m going to jump after you and strangle you on the way down, you little bitch.”
“That’s fair”, says Fox, and watches High General Kenobi bury his face in his hands. Wolffe twitches in place and makes an aborted groaning noise, the hypocrite.
“Excuse me, High Marshall Commander Fox, but I fail to see what’s so dire about this situation that the Jedi High Council and your brothers cannot help you solve”, says Windu, the only sane one left on this Force-forsaken bloated corpse of a planet. Behind the gaggle of Jedi and ori’vode already gathered in front of Fox, the rest of them come veering around the corner in a commotion that’s quite frankly embarrassing. High General Yoda is mounted on Skywalker’s back like he’s a race-Eopie, which is Fox’ only consolation.
He got up this morning at 0300, bleary-eyed and with a pounding headache as always, and all was right in the world. And then Fox got called into the Jedi High Council’s chambers and was ceremoniously informed that in the wake of Chancellor Palpatine’s unfortunate demise (hah), and through the emergency state of the Senate, as well as several invented promotions foisted on Fox to make the delegation of any and all paperwork less shady, he was now next in the chain of command and-
Well, Fox is the acting Chancellor, in short.
Haha, he had said, and been meet with several seconds of silence, until it got both awkward and exceedingly painful. Wait, he’d said. You’re kriffing serious.
Kriffing serious, we are, had said High General Yoda, and thus Fox launched himself out the first best window with a maniacal cackle of, you’ll have to catch me first!
And catch him, High General Windu sure did.
“The will of the Force this is”, Yoda interrupts Fox’ train of thought. He scans him thoughtfully from beneath his wizened brow, and hems to himself. “Shake things up, this will. Determine the fate of the Galaxy, this shall. A feeling, I have, that a good Chancellor you will make. A better one, hmmm.”
“That’d be high praise, if not for the fact that a dead lemming would make for a better Chancellor than the last one”, says Fox, drawing and indignant gasp from Skywalker. He doesn’t bother with either that or the green goblin’s cackle, lost in the deep sense of resignation that settles over his shoulders like a suffocating blanket.
“Alright, then, get me Thorn on the comm. As my first act in office, I’m firing all the Jedi. No offense, but you’re kind of a disaster. Then, someone get me to the Chancellor’s office, I’m calling Dooku to let him know the war’s off. And please get me Judicial, they’ll be up all night working on my datafolders - I’m having the Senate arrested.”
“Who - is - arresting - “, Bly pants, hands on his knees from where he’s just come sprinting around the corner with his Jedi.
Underneath his bucket, Fox smiles a smile that’s all teeth. “The Senate”, he says, sweetly, wondering if he’s just imagined the shiver that’s gone through the room. “I’m suing the Senate, and taking them all into temporary custody for abuse of sentient rights.”
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