the-chocoholic-writer

[the-chocoholic-writer]

Childhood Best Friend!Bakugo who‘s parents basically forced him to be nice to you after you two met. He had already gotten his quirk. You had yet to show signs of one.

Childhood Best Friend!Bakugo who threw dirt in your face one minute and the next shared his goldfish with you.

Childhood Best Friend!Bakugo who called your quirk “lame” when you finally got it.

Childhood Best Friend!Bakugo who expected you to get pissed off by his attitude by some point. You never did.

Childhood Best Friend!Bakugo who started giving guys some really weird looks and some really violent words whenever they looked at you for too long in middle school. You were getting some attention now, but it slowly stopped when people learned about your “guard dog”.

Childhood Best Friend!Bakugo who didn’t expect to see you at the U.A. entrance exam, but wasn’t entirely surprised by it.

Childhood Best Friend!Bakugo who also wasn’t surprised by you actually making it in.

Childhood Best Friend!Bakugo who  managed to spark dating rumors on day one because you were the only person he didn’t yell at. The girls tried to gossip. You tried to shoot it down. He went along with it (said he didn’t care enough to argue, but he loves to argue, so…?)

Childhood Best Friend!Bakugo who kept his eyes on you a little more frequently during battles as the war started to ramp up.

Childhood Best Friend!Bakugo who didn’t ask you out, but he did say that he’d kill you if you died before him. So that was close enough.

a.n. — fully aware that I went completely inactive again, sorry — I’ve had a crazy schedule theses past few months

@graciescott27

[the-chocoholic-writer]

As a wheelchair user I'm trying to reframe my language for "being in the way."

"I'm in the way," "I can't fit," and "I can't go there," is becoming "there's not enough space," "the walkway is too narrow," and "that place isn't accessible."

It's a small change, but to me it feels as if I'm redirecting blame from myself to the people that made these places inaccessible in the first place. I don't want people to just think that they're helping me, I want them to think that they're making up for someone else's wrongdoing. I want them to remember every time I've needed help as something someone else caused.

[the-chocoholic-writer]

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

[the-chocoholic-writer]

came outta retirement for this one,, redraw from december 2024!!

reblogs, comments, likes, are appreciated!!<3

[the-chocoholic-writer]

°❀.ೃ࿔*°❀.ೃ࿔* °❀.ೃ࿔*°❀.ೃ࿔* °❀.ೃ࿔*°❀.ೃ࿔* °❀.ೃ࿔*°❀.ೃ࿔*

My Girl shouldn’t Have to Lift a Finger

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life, Light Comedy

Warnings: Mild language, overprotective/spoiling behavior

Katsuki Bakugo had never been called soft in his life.

He was sharp edges and hard stares, explosions and curses, the kind of guy who made grown men flinch with just a glare. He didn’t “simp.” Hell, he used to scoff at people who did. The idea of bending over backwards for someone? Doing all that sappy, hand-holding, coat-giving, door-opening crap? No way.

But then he met you.

And something in that overly explosive, incredibly short-tempered heart of his melted.

Now here he was — the self-proclaimed “not-a-simp” — walking through a shopping plaza with a soft pink purse slung over his shoulder like it was made for him. Like he wasn’t currently drawing stares for how out-of-place it looked hanging off his black hoodie and combat boots.

But did he care?

Not one damn bit.

You were a few steps ahead of him, stopping at a window to admire a pair of earrings that glinted like little stars in the sunlight. You didn’t even say anything. Just a small, curious tilt of your head as you leaned in to get a better look. Bakugo clocked it immediately.

And ten minutes later, those earrings were in a tiny gift bag nestled inside the purse now hanging from his shoulder.

You turned to see him staring at you with that typical scowl on his face, and your brows furrowed. “Katsuki, you okay?”

“Hmph.” He grunted. “Come here.”

You stepped over to him with your usual sweet smile, arms swaying a little as your purse bounced lightly at your hip. “What’s up?”

“Gimme that.” His voice was gruff, firm.

You blinked. “What?”

He motioned to your purse. “Give it.”

“Oh!” you laughed, thinking maybe he needed something inside. “It’s fine, babe. It’s not even heavy. I got it!”

Bakugo didn’t budge.

“Give. It. To. Me.” he said slowly, like you were being unreasonable for not handing it over.

With a little blink of surprise, you gently passed your bag to him. “Okay then…”

He tossed the strap over his other shoulder without a word. The man was now wearing two purses, both hanging awkwardly but proudly on his shoulders like he couldn’t care less about what anyone thought.

You looked up at him, giggling softly. “You’re seriously gonna carry both?”

“My girl shouldn’t have to carry anything,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets like it was the most obvious fact in the universe.

Your heart melted. Right there on the sidewalk.

It wasn’t just the purse thing. No — this had been happening for months. Ever since you started dating him, Katsuki had transformed into the most overprotective, attentive, secretly sweet boyfriend imaginable.

He opened every door before you could touch the handle. If it was raining, you wouldn’t even have to ask — his jacket was already draped over your shoulders. Anything you so much as looked at too long was yours before you knew it. He even scolded you for carrying grocery bags.

“I have arms, Katsuki!”

“Don’t care. These arms are bigger. Now give.”

Even now, as you walked side by side, he kept that ever-so-subtle hand on the small of your back. Just enough pressure to let you know he was there. Always.

People stared sometimes. Especially when Bakugo — ever the fireball of a Pro Hero — was spotted with a soft pink handbag or being spotted kissing your forehead before taking off for patrol.

You’d once heard a teenage fan whisper to her friend: “He’s so whipped.”

Bakugo heard it too. He looked over his shoulder, eyes blazing.

“Damn right I am,” he muttered under his breath. “Whipped for my girl. Got a problem with that?”

You hadn’t stopped smiling for the rest of the day.

As you both strolled past the plaza’s café, you stopped him again. “Wait—can we get a slice of strawberry shortcake? They only have it on Saturdays!”

Before you could even fish your wallet out of your jacket pocket, Bakugo was already inside, barking at the cashier for two slices and a coffee with extra sugar. By the time you walked in behind him, he was at a corner table with a fork already waiting in front of your chair.

“I was gonna pay,” you said, sitting down with a sheepish little grin.

He snorted. “You try to, every time. And every time, you still don’t.”

You laughed and leaned your head against his shoulder. He didn’t flinch, didn’t push you away. Instead, he leaned slightly into the touch, his free hand absently brushing his thumb over yours under the table.

Bakugo Katsuki was still sharp. Still explosive.

But when it came to you?

He was all soft edges. Bubble-wrapped in protectiveness. Overflowing with quiet, deliberate love.

Even if he’d never say the word “simp” out loud, it didn’t matter.

Because if being the king of the simps meant treating you like royalty?

Then hell yeah — long may he reign.

[the-chocoholic-writer]

everyone else thought you and katsuki bakugo were dating except you guys ༄ fluff, oblivious bakugo and reader, swearing, slight angst, kinda corny lol

you were a staple in katsuki bakugo’s life.

your moms were bestfriends, and they had you both at relatively the same time so you were there before he built his walls, before his ego skyrocketed, before his quirk developed, and you became as natural as the hair on his head and the explosions from his hands.

he learnt to respect you. to treat you with kindness cause when he eventually did test you in middle school, he learned how it felt to not be in your presence for once.

safe to say it was hell.

he had yelled at you, he had a bad day, his friends bothering him, drowning in homework, and training for the entrance exam when he snapped at you and dismissed you away like he did with his usual friends that just followed him around like little puppies.

he quickly learned that you weren’t gonna beg for his forgiveness like the others.

you went distant after that. you didn’t reach out, didn’t say hello the sing-songy way you did every time you saw him, didn’t come over, and suddenly his heart ached. he didn’t know why. it was a strange and unknown feeling and all he knew was your absence was causing this emotion. this weird, yearning emotion, and he knew he’d do anything to get rid of it and get back the bubbly girl he knew.

he came to this realization at 8PM. it was raining. he didn’t care. you guys were neighbors anyway. he quickly threw on a jacket, putting on his hoodie and shoes, running over to your two story house. your bedroom was on the second story but it had a tree next to your window and he often scaled it to hang out or sneak you out, except this time he didn’t like the reason he was climbing it. he got cuts on his hands, almost slipping and falling two stories as he managed to reach your window, tapping on the glass lightly as he peered inside.

“cmon y/n. open up.” he called out, tapping a little harder before you came to the window, opening it up.

“what do you want?” you said, your once warm and gentle voice now cold and distant while you crossed your arms, a displeased and annoyed expression on your face.

“please.. just let me in.. and hear me out.” he said gruffly, already climbing inside, knowing you’d let him in anyway. “i was.. i was being an asshole. i’m sorry. you don’t have to forgive me, but—i miss you goddamnit and i don’t like not being with you everyday.” he muttered, the words feeling weird on his tongue. he’d never apologized to anybody else other than his mother and it was a rather foreign feeling, but he’d say and do anything to get you back.

you stayed silent, contemplating as you looked up at him. you knew how hard it was for him to apologize, let alone come here and speak to you instead of letting you crawl back to him. you just sighed, pulling him in for a hug, immediately getting wet from his soaked clothes.

he let out air he didn’t know he was holding, a sigh of relief, his hand immediately finding a place in your hair, his arms wrapped around you. god knows how good it felt to have you there, in his arms, with him like you should be.

after that day, he never disrespected you again.

he never realized what that feeling was, what love was, because yeah, he loved his mom, he loved his dad, but it was an entirely different feeling with you that he didn’t recognize.

additionally, he always thought romance were silly. he never understood romcoms, shipping in shows, soulmates, stories about ‘the one’, and so and so forth. it was always his one and only goal. being the number one hero. so he convinced himself, over and over again, that love wasn’t for him, that it was a distraction, an obstacle that would try to take him down. completely oblivious to his love in front of him all his life.

the years that followed, he’d grown more, emotionally, physically, and maturely too. he was still loud, rude, ill mannered, but he recognized how his words and actions affected others, partly due to you as well. you were the only one that could keep him in line while at UA.

of course, all you friends noticed that too. they noticed when he’d hold the door open for you without you asking. when you were the only person he’d walk to class with. when you’d always partner together during class projects. and when the dorms were enforced, he even requested to be next to you, like how your houses were next to each other. it was rare to see him in his own dorm, since he was always in yours, even if you weren’t in it, he just enjoyed being there.

so it was a shock when you told mina that no, you weren’t dating, and no, you hadn’t put him under a love spell like that girl from descendants.

“he is SO in love with you, y/n, how do you not see it?” she cried, giggling a bit as she laid down on your bed as you guys gossiped. it was a rainy night, katsuki was training in the gym, the one time he’s not glued to your hip. so you, mina, and jirou all had a girls night in. you guys talked, watched movies, and ate food. somehow you guys got to the topic of guys when mina asked you how long you and katsuki had been together.

you were immediately confused. “together? what do you mean?” you laughed, looking at the both of them look at each other. “how long have you been dating?” jirou repeated mina’s question.

“we’re not dating.”

they both gasped, “what do you mean your not dating? he’s SO nice to you.” mina exclaimed, giggling as she moved to lay on her stomach, her head resting on her hands. “yeah, he scowled at me and gave me a dirty look today just for laughing too loud and you tease and make fun of him and get nothing but a lil’ smile.” jirou said and laughed, rolling her eyes.

“well that’s just how he usually acts” you murmured, thinking back to the years before, “do you think he likes me?” you gasp, furrowing your eyebrows.

mina and jirou face palm, “girl.. yes.” they laughed and shook their head.

that’s when they all heard keys jangling and the lock unlocking (yeah he has a key to your dorm, and you have a key to his). “y/n, where’s my copy of—..” he said before being met with the stares of the three girls. he furrowed his brows, a strange look on his face, giving them only a nod as a hello as he moved to search through her drawers for a copy of NANA that he let you borrow.

the girls giggled behind him, mouthing “speak of the devil” and wiggling their eyebrows. you just rolled your eyes, dismissing them.

they both left quickly after with their own excuses, leaving you and katsuki alone. he finally found his copy, moving to your bed and plopping down next to you. “what was that about?” he said, opening up the manga. you rested your legs on his, and he started to trace his fingers up and down them as he read. “oh.. uh nothing. just a girls day.” you said, picking up your phone. you didn’t know why, but you’d gotten goosebumps. you never got goosebumps when katsuki touched you. or got close to you. damnit mina, why’d you get in my head? did katsuki like you? or was this normal between the two of you?

thoughts like that raced through your mind for the next few days.

you saw him in a new light, a beautiful.. handsome, kind of light.

every gruff “this reminded me of you”, everytime he came over, every time you guys went out to eat, or when he’d buy you those shoes you wanted in an instant, had your heart fluttering more often and he sensed this change, while he didn’t know it was you slowly catching feelings for him, he thought he did something wrong, and he went to his best friend (besides you).

he was pacing around in kirishimas room, running a hand through his hair as he ran through the reasons he could have pissed you off. it’s not like you’ve been distant but everytime he’d do something nice, you acted different and had him overthinking. A LOT.

“shit. i don’t know what i could’ve done to tick her off man, i dunno.” he grumbled, sitting down on the edge of kirishimas bed. “why don’t you just talk to her, man?” kirishima said, furrowing his brow as he organized stuff in his room. “it shouldn’t be hard to talk to your girlfriend, man, me n mina talk about our feelings all the time.” he explained further, glancing at his distressed friend when he suddenly looked up at kirishima. “girlfriend? she’s not my girlfriend idiot.” he grumbled, his head still in his hands. kirishimas eyes widened quickly, before returning to normal. he paused his task, sitting next to katsuki.

“she’s not?”

“no.” katsuki mumbled, his distress turning into confusion. “what makes you think that?” he said, scowling at kirishima.

“you treat her like royalty, man, you look at her like she hung the moon.” kirishima laughed, shaking his head, “you treat her better than most guys treat their wives.” he said, looking at the floor.

“well.. that’s just.. i don’t know. i’m used to it. she deserves it, yknow?” bakugo muttered out, sort of speechless. “i’ve treated her like that since we were in diapers, kiri.” he scoffed, running his hands through his hair. “well why?” his friend said, looking at bakugo. “well this one time, we got into a fight, a while back, and she didn’t talk to me for a fucking week.” he said gruffly, almost paining him to even think about that event. “it was horrible, i would’ve done anything for her back.. that’s when i knew i couldn’t lose her again.” he said, shaking his head, meeting his friends eyes.

“is it possible you like her?”

bakugo furrowed his eyebrows, slowly connecting the dots. like her? he scoffed, thinking about it for a second.

“i mean.. i love mina. i’d do anything for her, genuinely. she’s my world. it was love at first sight, bro. i think she’s the one.” kirishima said and laughed softly, shaking his head, “like my safe space. i wanna be with her all the time, yknow?” he explained further, “do you feel that way about y/n?” he asked, glancing towards bakugo.

oh.

he was silent. putting together the dots, connecting the puzzle pieces. he considered himself smart. he always did. but how could he be this dumb? this oblivious? he always felt that way towards you.

he nodded, sighing as he stood up. “i gotta go.” he grumbled, grabbing his bag and waving bye to his friend. he practically ran to his dorm, needing space. needing time to think.

should he push this feeling away? would it affect his career? many pro heroes have wives.. but all might didn’t, and he was the greatest. what would he even do about this? he didn’t know jack about romance. and did you even like him back?

that question stilled his spiraling mind.

did you like him back?

how could he know? your bubbly with everyone, too fucking chatty with icy-hot. you give that stupid beautiful smile to every stranger that passes and you ramble to anybody that would listen… was he as special to you as you were to him?

this had him faltering in classes, in training. he could not take his mind off it. off you. he over analyzed everything. every smile, every touch, every word that hung off your lips had captivated him.

he was tired of this. he didn’t wanna keep worrying. he didn’t wanna overthink for days. he was gonna ask you out. he was katsuki bakugo, goddamnit. he already knew what you liked, what flowers were your favorite, your favorite color, places that’d take your breath away, etc. he had planned the dream date, so why was he so nervous?

he ended up coming over, asking to hangout. you guys normally did, but he was extra jittery, extra sweaty, more than he usually was, which is a lot coming from him since his quirk was basically sweating. he stuttered more, was silent more which made you confused, suspicious even. mina had told you to get pretty today, have your nails done, your hair done, so you were already on edge.

either way, you had a great time, you laughed a lot, fleeting touches made you flustered, and butterflies stirred in your stomach. by the end of the night, he took you by a lake next to the school and you squinted at something you saw in the distance.

were those candles? a picnic blanket? a basket?

“kats? what’s that? do you see it?” you laughed, wondering why you guys were walking there. until it clicked, it was for you. you blushed lightly, looking around at what he set up. he had your favorite flowers, chocolates, new shoes, and food.

he was behind you when he spoke up, clearing his throat. “i.. uh.. this is for you.” he grumbled lowly. “i’ve liked you for a while, y/n.” he said, laughing nervously. “your fuckin’ beautiful, and funny, and i’d do anything for you.” he said, taking a step closer, looking down at you.

butterflies swarmed in your stomach, you were suddenly nervous and laughing, you couldn’t stop smiling.

“will you be my girlfriend?” he murmured, cupping your face in his hand. this was out of character for him. he didn’t know what he was doing, he hoped his hand wasn’t too sweaty, he hoped you didn’t notice his hand shaking, or his heart pounding in his chest.

you nodded, “yes.” you smiled softly, stepping closer and when you said yes, it felt like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders. he leaned in closer, not wanting to make you uncomfortable he spoke up, “can i kiss you?” he said, letting out a small chuckle. you nodded and he leaned in, his other hand coming up to cup your face as well as you kissed. you both were inexperienced, but you didn’t care because it felt right. it felt right to hold him closer, to rake your hand through his hair, to kiss until you ran out of breath and when you did, he whispered something against your lips.

“i cant believe i waited this long to make you mine.”

[the-chocoholic-writer]

─ .✦˚˖🎀⋆The Soft Spot He Pretends He Doesn’t Have

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x reader, pure fluff

The BakuSquad runs loud. Like explosions in human form — laughing too hard, tackling each other over dumb jokes, slinging insults that somehow mean I love you in their own language.

And Katsuki Bakugo is always in the middle of it.

Always shouting. Always scowling. Always calling Kaminari a dumbass, Mina a raccoon, and Sero a noodle with tape for brains.

Except — and this is something everyone knows but no one says —he doesn’t yell at you.

He never has.

Not even when you’re late. Not even when you steal his fries. Not even when you tease him.

Especially when you tease him.

He calls you idiot sometimes, sure — but it’s different. No bark. No bite.

More like the way someone might mutter sweetheart if they’d rather die than say the word.

You’re part of the group. You’re chaos and comfort all at once. You rib Kirishima over his playlist choices and you threaten to unplug the console when Kaminari gets cocky. You sing off-key with Mina during long walks home and pull Sero into late-night baking experiments that end in kitchen disasters.

But with Bakugo?

There’s something else.

He’s still him, of course. Still sharp around the edges. Still the human embodiment of a fireworks finale.

But when it comes to you, he’s… softer. Calmer. Like a lit match that doesn’t burn unless you ask it to.

He listens more. Talks lower. Stands closer without realizing. Sometimes he’ll shove a drink into your hand before you even ask, grumbling something about you “not drinking enough water, dumbass,” while refusing to meet your eyes.

Once, you tripped during a mission and skinned your knee. It wasn’t serious. Barely even stung.

But Bakugo had turned around so fast it was like you’d been shot. He crouched beside you, voice tight and low, hands steady and too gentle for someone who could level a building.

“You okay?” he asked.

You blinked. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Tch.” He stood up stiffly, eyes flicking away. “Then stop falling behind. Moron.”

But later, when you pulled off your boots, you found a new bandage there — perfectly wrapped.

And that’s just… how he is with you.

No one really brings it up, not directly. But the others have noticed.

They notice how he sits closer to you on the couch.

How he only ever shares his food with you.

How he waits for your reaction before laughing at a joke.

And today — today, they decide they’ve had enough.

“Okay,” Mina blurts, eyes wild and glittering, “can we all agree that Bakugo is weirdly nice to Y/N?”

“I knew it wasn’t just me,” Kaminari groans, dropping his head on the table. “He let her borrow his jacket last week. You know how sacred that jacket is?”

“Guys,” you laugh nervously, nudging your tray of snacks toward them, “he’s not nice, he’s just—”

“He peeled an orange for her,” Sero says, voice hollow with disbelief. “An. Orange.”

You’re mid-sip of your drink and nearly choke. “That wasn’t—he just had nails and I didn’t—!”

“He doesn’t yell at her,” Kirishima says seriously, like it’s a war crime. “I’ve watched this man scream at a tree for dropping sap on his shoulder. But she bumps into him, spills his protein shake, and he just… sighs.”

You cover your face, heat crawling up your neck.

Mina gasps. “Wait. Wait. Katsuki Bakugo likes her.”

Bakugo walks in just as she says it.

The room freezes.

You peek through your fingers to see him pause in the doorway, frown curling like thunderclouds, gaze flicking over all of you.

“What the hell’s going on in here?” he mutters.

“Noooothing,” Mina sings, too fast.

Bakugo’s eyes narrow.

And then he sees you.

All the tension in his shoulders shifts — not vanishing, just reshaping. He walks over without a word and sets a cold drink beside you.

Your favorite one.

“Did you eat?” he asks quietly, too quietly for anyone else to hear.

You nod mutely, eyes wide.

He nods back, barely noticeable. Then, with a glance at the others — still frozen like they’re trying to telepathically record this — he mutters, “Mind your own damn business,” and flops onto the couch beside you.

Not across from you. Not near you.

Beside you.

And as he picks up the remote, body brushing yours, you hear Sero whisper:

“...He didn’t deny it.”

And you?

You don’t deny the way your heart flutters either.

[the-chocoholic-writer]

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑅𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑌’𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤

your very dramatic fiancé and his government-level possessiveness lol, dumb humor but make it domestic!

From the kitchen, hiding a smirk behind your glass of water, you already had everything set: ringtone activated, and the whole story rehearsed in your head.

The phone rang. You looked up with the most innocent face you could muster and slid your finger to answer.

"Hello? Oh yeah, hi! Yes, the package, of course," you said sweetly, throwing a quick glance at the couch.

Bakugo didn’t move. Not yet.

"The thing is, my boyfriend really needs it, so yeah, we kinda need it delivered today." You saw him from the corner of your eye, shifting slightly, without lifting his head.

"What? Cash on delivery? Oh, no problem. I’ll pay with my boyfriend’s card," you emphasized, like you were highlighting every syllable with a neon marker.

Bakugo turned his head slowly, like a shark sensing movement in the water.

"And if I’m not home... can my boyfriend receive it?" you went on, all innocent. You didn’t even need to look—his glare was drilling holes into the back of your neck.

The couch creaked when he sat up.

"Mhm, and if it needs a signature, that’s fine. My boyfriend can sign. Yeah, name’s Katsuki Bakugo, yeah, that one. My boyfriend."

"The hell are you sayin’!?" his voice cut in from the living room, louder from offense than volume.

You raised a brow like you didn’t get the issue, covering the mic of your fake call with one hand.

"I’m on the phone, Katsu," you said calmly, like you were dealing with a misbehaving kid in church.

"I’m your fiancé—ain’t that enough for you or what?" he growled, eyes dropping to your hand, to the engagement ring sparkling like a tiny, cruel reminder. He jerked his chin toward it. "Then what the hell’s that, huh? Decoration?"

"This ring?" you asked, lifting your hand dramatically. "Oh wow, guess I’m engaged! To my boyfriendy!"

He leaned over the island a bit more, close enough for his voice to drop low and gruff.

"Repeat after me: my fiancé."

"My fiancé," you echoed, laughing.

"And future husband."

"And future husband…"

"Bakugo Katsuki," he added flatly, as if daring you to mess it up again.

"Bakugo Katsuki," you repeated, eyes twinkling.

"Shit, you’re gonna give me a damn heart attack one day," he muttered, finally pulling away, still scowling as he walked back to the couch, grumbling all the way.

[the-chocoholic-writer]

do not forget the patron saint of these weeks that we celebrate ourselves proudly and openly in the streets

her name was Marsha P Johnson, and we have her to thank for so much.

remember, the first Pride was a riot, and she was one of the brave souls who endured it to help carve the path which so many of us walk today. she helped found several activist groups regarding LGBT safety and wellbeing. and she was absolutely radiant, too.

thank you, Marsha. we remember you.

[the-chocoholic-writer]

WE LOVE YOU PEDRO

[the-chocoholic-writer]

thinking abt unofficialbf!katsuki who's so soft for you

it was almost impressive how easily bakugo katsuki flipped the switch from raging 'die! die! die!' hothead to... well, this. the grumbly, red-faced mess curled up against you in the quiet of his dorm.

you were lying in his bed, your legs tangled with his under the blanket like it was the most natural thing in the world. which, to be fair, it kind of was. no one could really pinpoint when you and katsuki had become a thing. not even you two. one day you were four years old, standing in a sandbox while he handed you a bright bunch of dandelions and wildflowers and announced that you were his, and somehow it just... stuck?

now, over a decade later, you still found yourself in his bed more often than not, curled into his side, his stupidly strong arm pulling you closer until your face was pressed against the curve of his neck.

he'd grown lots and at the same time not at all since you were kids. physically, his biceps were now the same size as his 4-year-old body. his jawline had gotten much sharper

“…y’re warm,” you mumbled sleepily, voice muffled by his skin.

“tch. shut up,” he grumbled, but his hand started rubbing lazy, soothing circles against your back anyway.

you smiled.

he always did that. pretended like your presence was an inconvenience while simultaneously holding you like he’d fall apart if you weren’t there. your fingers reached up to card through his messy blond hair, nails gently scraping his scalp in the way you knew made him melt.

sure enough, he let out a sound that was dangerously close to a purr.

“…quit that,” he said, sounding exactly zero percent convincing, his whole body melting under your hands. his eyes fluttered shut anyway.

you both lay there in silence for a while, his arms tightened around you, protective and warm. you could almost hear the echoes of your childhood in moments like this. the tickle fights, the hand-holding, the way he used to drag you around like some tiny, furious king with his favorite sidekick. he’d never really stopped. even now, your hand was locked with his under the blankets, his thumb rubbing slow, absentminded circles into your palm.

“katsuki?” you murmured.

“hm?”

“hi.”

"what?"

"jus' sayin' hi."

“don't be annoying. i will throw you off this bed.”

“no you won’t. you like cuddling me too much.”

he growled under his breath. no, he wouldn't.

“…shut up.”

you didn’t. you just nuzzled into his chest, warm and safe and full of something that felt like forever. he let out a tired sigh and held you tighter, like he was trying to memorize the shape of you against him.

you could feel the way his breathing was slowly evening out, signalling he'd be asleep in a minute tops. this was usually the point he'd get stupid affectionate, brain riddled with sleepiness. he probably wasn't even aware of how sappy he'd act, sweet things slipping out without him realizing.

“…’m gonna marry you one day,” he mumbled suddenly, barely audible.

you blinked, frozen. that was not just a sweet comment.

“…huh?”

his ears turned bright red.

“nothin’. go to sleep, dumbass.”

but you didn’t miss the way his thumb never stopped rubbing slow, affectionate circles into your hand. or the soft kiss he pressed to the top of your head just before you finally drifted off.

"just friends" my ass.

masterlist if you enjoyed bc unofficialbf!katsuki is the only thing i think abt.

[the-chocoholic-writer]

a/n. based on the prompt "i want to go home to my wife” courtesy of @/creativepromptsforwriting (very bkg-coded, i know.) (0.7k)

it’s probably by the tenth sigh of the night—not that anyone’s counting—that poor kaminari finally snaps.

“seriously, dude?”

bakugou, who’s seated across from him with kirishima and sero adjacent to the both of them, only lazily raises an eyebrow in question.

at that, the electric hero pouts. “at least try to pretend you’re having fun.”

a few feet ahead of them—the men collectively chose to be seated at the back of the small dive bar despite kaminari’s protests—the stand-up comedian currently doing a set cracks another joke. an undercurrent of laughter flows across the room, but none of the four contribute to that.

“sorry, denki,” sero starts, a not-so-apologetic expression plastered on his face. “i’m with bakugou on this one.”

the slim, ebony-haired man glances at the stage, “the jokes aren’t landing for me either.”

“aww, come on, you guys!” kirishima, the ever-unfailing saint that he is, pipes up with a borderline overcompensating grin. “let’s just stay for a while longer for denki, alright?”

sero shrugs in response, but turns in his seat toward the stage anyway. bakugou, on the other hand, only grumbles before reaching for his phone in his right pocket.

thumbing his password under the table, his fingers click on the messages app, then to his number one favorite contact.

for a second, he debates whether or not to shoot you a text. you were so excited to finally get started on that anime you’ve been meaning to watch, that you almost seemed like you didn’t care that he was leaving you home for the night to hang out with the guys.

biting on his lip, he absentmindedly goes through your last exchange before finally deciding fuck it.

while typing out a well-crafted message, his eyes dart between his screen to his friends then back down again, trying to seem inconspicuous.

the last thing he needs is for the bored tape hero to tease him with that annoying ass shit-eating grin of his.

reading through it one last time, bakugou finally presses the send button.

much to his delight, it doesn’t even take you a minute to reply.

(8:43 PM) baby 🧡: heey! i’m still watching—am on episode 5 now. hbu? aren’t you busy with the boys?

the smile he wasn’t aware he’s been sporting immediately drops when he’s reminded of the predicament he’s in. peering back up at the front, he has to fight the groan that threatens to bubble from his mouth when another performer goes up.

oh, well. at least you’re texting him right now.

he quickly types out his response.

(8:45 PM) me: Busy being fucking tortured. This is the worst night ever.

“yo, bro, who got you smiling like that?”

bakugou whips to glare at the culprit, who’s now wearing the very same shit-eating grin he’s just been thinking about avoiding a few moments ago.

pocketing his phone, bakugou snarls at the man. “shut the fuck up. all that doom-scrolling is rotting your fucking brain.”

“i think you getting the reference says something about you, too, bakubro,” kirishima offers from beside him.

bakugou shoots the redhead a menacing scowl, which the unbreakable hero accepts in stride.

“are you guys even listening?” comes kaminari’s whine.

“sorry, denks,” sero replies, before turning to regard the rest of the group. “i thought we agreed to stop doing these guys’ night outs? none of us are as good at planning get-togethers as mina.”

at that slightest bit of opening, bakugou takes the opportunity and moves to stand up, grabbing his wallet and car keys before inserting them in his back pocket, surprising the three men.

before any of them can say a single word, though, bakugou tries to shrug nonchalantly, muttering his simple explanation.

“what was that?” came sero’s teasing tone.

“i want to go home to my wife, idiot,” bakugou barks before he can stop himself.

at that, kaminari finally throws his hands up in defeat.

kirishima only shrugs himself, “that clicks.”

while the menace snickers. “simp.”

˗ˏˋ while likes are appreciated, they don't do much on tumblr! if you want to support me and writers in general, reblogs, replies, and tags are the way to go. feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat. have a nice day! ´ˎ˗

[the-chocoholic-writer]

“on all levels except physical, i am a wolf”

[the-chocoholic-writer]

𐔌✧.* ᑕᕼᗩᗰᑭIOᑎ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ೀ⋆ || Who could’ve guessed that your childhood crush would become your knight… literally ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

. ♬ ݁˖ || listen along : spotify version & yt version ᯓ★

ᝰ.ᐟ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, pure fluff, acts of service, 1.2k word count •°. *࿐

There was no doubt that these games were intense.

It was always a fierce brawl and clashing of swords, the colosseum being overflowed with the cheers of spectators, all eager to see who would make it to the finale.

The overall victor having the guaranteed prize of a title — becoming a noble knight or prize money — the honor sought for in basically every participant, making the games a celebration throughout the whole kingdom.

As the years went on, Katsuki never saw the hype around such bothersome events, plus he already held the title of a soldier.

Why waste time beating obvious weaklings when he could be doing other things?

He just didn't get it, at least, not until you told him something that essentially shattered his entire world.

"Oi... repeat what you said just now."

The grip on his sword tightened as you smiled, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil, the raging storm making his senses sharp, carefully listening to every word that exits your pretty little mouth.

"Hm? That my father is picking a new bodyguard for me at the tournament?"

His gaze hardens. The blonde couldn't believe what he was hearing. His jaw clenches, brows furrowed with contemplation, teeth grinding together at the mere thought.... the idea of some extra being at your side 247.

Someone that wasn't him.

"The hell is wrong with yur' current one? You don't need another damn guard!"

His voice comes out a little more rougher than intended, but you seem too distracted with picking flowers to notice.

This was ridiculous.

I mean, he expected it eventually, given your title and all, but just not so soon...

"Ah that—! Father said he's being promoted to captain, so I'll need a new one before he changes his post!"

Just great. The only reason he even tolerated your previous guard was because the man was older then you two combined!

But now with him gone and the upcoming tournament, there was bound to be a fresh batch of young males competing in the challenges.

Especially for the main prize — the possibility of being your personal guard — and it irked him to no end, no doubt they'll be competitors who fight not only to protect you, but to sneak their way into that gentle heart of yours.

With that realization alone, his mind was already made up before you could even blink.

"I'm gonna compete."

Your eyes widened, forgetting the makeshift bouquet in your hands as you spin around, the flowers landing on the grass with a small *thump!*

It was as if time went slow in that very moment, when your gazes locked with one another's, the wind blowing against your face, flowy hair swaying in the soft breeze.

"Kacchan, what—"

"I'm gonna compete for you," he repeats again. His gaze unyielding, firm and confident.

Like he didn't just go against his previous morals, like he didn't just backtrack on his past words, like he didn't just make your heart flutter at the steady eye contact.

You were beyond speechless.

He takes a step closer, kneeling down to pick up the forgotten bouquet of flowers at your feet, tightening the sloppy work of a ribbon you tried tying earlier.

The blonde looks up at you, crimson gaze boring into your own as he takes your hand, still on one knee, giving it a gentle squeeze before leaning down, kissing your bare knuckles.

You can already feel the increasing heat on your face, your breath hitching at the action, heartbeat reaching your ears as you look down.

"Just watch princess, I'll win."

You wanted to ask him why.

Why would he go against everything he stood for, for something he used to consider "a waste of time," avoiding all words of encouragement from his friends, family and even yourself.

But the way he looks at you, maneuvering the bouquet back into your hands, like an oath to both you and himself that he'll come out victorious... was more than enough.

Secretly you had always hoped he'd stick around, a subtle fear growing in the back of your mind that he'd disappear from your side one day, grow tired of kingdom life itself — tired of you.

It was a miracle you had even met him, long ago when you two were mere children, stumbling across him in the training grounds when you snuck out of the castle.

You were a crying mess, not sure where to go, lost and in need of a savior; that's where he came into the picture.

A kid your age, temporarily residing at the castle for training, an early opportunity for gifted children who had potential to be great protectors of the kingdom.

"Who's there?!"

Katsuki swiftly spins around, holding up his little dagger towards the tree, narrowing his eyes at the sound of crunching leaves, already on high alert for a potential threat.

He expects some sort of animal, perhaps one of those wild boars his mentor had warned him about, but much to his surprise, a young girl poked her head out, you, tears dripping down your cheeks as you hesitantly meet his gaze.

He freezes.

"are… are you a knight?!"

The blonde tenses as you hastily approach, not even giving him time to speak as you suddenly cling to his side, basically crying a river as you hold onto him, seeking comfort from the first person you stumbled across. 

Guess you didn’t take stranger danger into consideration. 

"O-Oi— let go of me! Hey!"

He flushes bright red, his dagger falling onto the ground with a clink as he tries prying you off, but much to no avail, not with the way you're sobbing into his chest. 

At the time, he didn't know what he got himself into, left stunned as royal guards eventually rushed over, feeling pure relief at the sight of you, the princess, safe and sound in the arms of a grouchy blonde boy — who was in complete disbelief at the realization of your status. 

It was then where you always followed him around, finding excuses to visit him whenever necessary, calling him your hero every time you saw him, awe filled eyes studying him, much to his annoyance. 

You suppose that's when the fear started growing, as the years went on, you could only find yourself craving more of his presence, and now, maybe he does too.

You break out of the nostalgia as he stands up, a determined gleam in his eyes, grown up from the boy you once knew, but only now, seems he's the one chasing you.

You shyly smile, "just don't kill anyone while you're at it... my knight."

He scoffs, a hint of amusement in his gaze, a smug smile threatening to arise from his stoic expression.

"No damn promises, your majesty."

Perhaps proving his loyalty would come with a price, but he didn't care, not when the day came, with you expectantly looking at him from the podium, sitting in your freshly polished throne and decked out in the finest jewelry and silk.

A bright encouraging smile on your face as you lock eyes.

Nearby participants grew a bit envious at the visible familiarity between you and the blonde, but he wallowed in it, ego intensely growing more by the second.

He smugly grins as the trumpet blows, signaling the start of the battle, already noticing everyone rushing him with purpose — trying to take out the biggest threat — yet he remains unfazed, lifting up his sword with sheer confidence.

"COME AT ME EXTRAS! LET’S MAKE THIS QUICK!”

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

ᴀ/ɴ ||| hi my beautiful flowers! hope u like this one, i’m obsessed with she falls first but he falls harder tropes! also huge warm welcome to skyler for joining the taglist omg ty so much for liking my work enough to join the flower garden! sending all my love to you hehe... now time for me to go, plus ultra! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ ᴛᴀɢꜱ ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 @qyuin @sunnyalmighty @skylermiller1 (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

[the-chocoholic-writer]

self shipping is like the biggest act of self love. it genuinely feels so healing. like yes I deserve love. yes I deserve a happy and fulfilling relationship. yes this 300 year old cryptid would smooch me.

[the-chocoholic-writer]

I gotta say☝🏼 you are too good of a writer, I THANK YOU!!! Soo I got a request for ya! I was thinking about Katsuki having a major crush on reader(who secretly likes him too) trying his hardest to make her fall for him. He sees that showing off his "skills" just isn't enough, so he makes multiple attempts to flirt with her until he can finally see her become a blushing mess. (≧∇≦)/

Flirting Lessons

Katsuki Bakugo was many things—loud, brash, stubborn, and explosively talented. But smooth? That was a different story.

Unfortunately for him, his usual methods of impressing people—blowing stuff up, dominating in combat, and being the best at literally everything—didn't seem to be working on you. And that was frustrating as hell.

Because, damn it, he liked you.

You were different. You didn't fawn over his strength like others did, and you sure as hell didn’t let his temper intimidate you. You treated him like a person, not just the future Number One Hero. You teased him, challenged him, and worst of all, you didn’t even seem affected by him.

He had to change that.

So, Bakugo devised a plan: Operation: Make You Blush.

Attempt #1 – The Classic Show-Off

It started with what he did best—showing off.

During training, he made sure to push himself even harder than usual, making his explosions extra flashy, his dodges extra sharp, his victories extra brutal. Every time he landed a hit, he’d glance at you, waiting for that moment when you'd look at him with admiration, maybe even awe.

Instead?

You yawned. Yawned.

“Oh wow, another explosion. Shocking,” you deadpanned, leaning against the wall. “What’s next? You breathing fire?”

“The hell?! That was awesome!” he snapped, stomping over to you. “You try pulling that shit off, smartass!”

You smirked, tilting your head. “You’re already great, Bakugo. No need to keep proving it to me.”

For a second, he forgot how to breathe.

You—wait. Did you already think he was great? Did that mean—no, wait, focus. That wasn't enough. He needed to see that flustered expression.

Time for Plan B.

Attempt #2 – The Accidental (Not Really) Touch

The next time he saw you, he made sure to get close. Real close.

It started small. Brushing past you in the hallway, lingering when he handed you something, letting his fingers graze yours just a second too long. He even "accidentally" sat too close during class, his knee nudging against yours under the desk.

But did you react? Nope. You just gave him a look and went back to taking notes.

Fine. Desperate times, desperate measures.

One afternoon, when you were reaching for a book on a high shelf, he saw his chance. Casually, he strolled up behind you, caging you in with one arm as he grabbed the book himself.

"Need some help, princess?" he murmured, voice low and teasing.

You turned your head slightly, blinking up at him.

"Thanks, Bakugo," you said simply, taking the book and walking away like nothing happened.

He stood there, book still in hand, fuming.

Attempt #3 – The Nicknames

Alright. The nicknames had to work.

He started off easy—"Dumbass," "Extras," "Nerd." But those were normal, and you barely reacted to those.

So he stepped it up.

"Oi, sweetheart, you comin’ to train or what?"

"Keep up, babe, or I'm leavin’ your ass behind."

"Damn, you look good tod—" No, too much, too much! Abort!

At first, you just rolled your eyes. Then, slowly, he started catching it—the slight hesitation in your step, the way your ears tinged pink for a fraction of a second before you forced yourself to act normal.

Bingo.

He grinned. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?"

You scoffed, shoving past him. "Keep dreaming, Bakugo."

But you were blushing.

And he saw it.

Attempt #4 – The Direct Approach

By now, he was feeling cocky. If the nicknames worked, then maybe—just maybe—he could push it further.

So, one day, after training, when the two of you were the only ones left in the gym, he decided to go all in.

"Hey."

You turned around, towel around your neck, sweat still clinging to your skin. "Yeah?"

He smirked, taking a few steps closer until he was right in front of you. "You're into me."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're into me," he repeated, tilting his head slightly. "I see the way you look at me when you think I ain't payin’ attention."

Your face remained neutral, but he saw your grip tighten on your towel.

"Wow," you said flatly. "Humble much?"

"Tch, I'm not wrong," he shot back, crossing his arms. "So just admit it."

You stared at him for a long moment before letting out a slow sigh. Then, with a small smirk, you leaned in—close enough that he could feel your breath against his skin.

"If I'm into you," you whispered, "then what does that say about you, Bakugo? Since you've been chasing after me this whole time?"

His brain short-circuited.

For the first time, he was the one caught off guard.

You? You just winked and walked away, leaving him standing there like an idiot, face burning hotter than his explosions.

Shit.

Final Attempt – Success

Days passed, and despite his failure, he didn’t give up. He couldn’t. He just needed to hit you with something you wouldn’t see coming.

And then, it hit him.

Late one evening, as you were sitting outside the dorms, enjoying the quiet, he walked up and plopped down next to you. No teasing. No smirks. Just him, sitting there, staring at the sky.

"You're really somethin’ else, y'know that?" he muttered after a moment.

You glanced at him. "That a good thing or a bad thing?"

He scoffed. "Dumbass, it's a good thing."

Silence.

Then, softer, almost hesitant—"I like you."

Your breath hitched. This… this wasn’t his usual cocky, over-the-top flirting. This was just him. Honest. Real.

And that was what finally did it.

Your face turned bright red.

Bakugo saw it. He smirked.

"Finally," he muttered.

"Shut up," you groaned, covering your face.

"Nah," he said, leaning back with a grin. "Took me long enough, might as well enjoy it."

And for once, you let him have his victory.

[the-chocoholic-writer]

Hi dear! Can I request a Barbarian!Katsuki x Dancer!Reader. Katsuki is from a fierce, barbarian tribe and Reader is from a smaller tribe, better known for their exquisite dancing rituals and healing techniques. He stumbles upon her by chance while she practices her mating dance in the woods and he decides it's fate. They get to know each other and fall in love. His tribe is a bit surprised that he chose a small and un-warrior like bride, but they go along with it and they have a grand wedding. Thank you!

The Savage’s Dance

The rustling of leaves whispered through the dense, moonlit forest. Fireflies flickered between the towering trees, their golden glow barely illuminating the path Katsuki Bakugou had taken. He had wandered far from his tribe’s encampment, his senses heightened as he scouted for threats—or perhaps, for something more. The battle-hardened warrior had never been one for aimless walks, but tonight, instinct had pulled him into the woods.

Then, he heard it.

A soft, rhythmic pounding against the earth. The sound of bare feet moving in a mesmerizing, deliberate pattern. It was accompanied by the delicate jingle of beads and the faintest rustling of fabric against skin. Katsuki narrowed his crimson eyes and stepped closer, his movements as silent as a stalking predator.

There, in the heart of a moonlit clearing, a woman danced.

Her body twisted and arched, her arms lifting toward the sky before sweeping down in a graceful arc. The dim light of the fireflies caught the smooth curves of her form, highlighting the sheen of sweat that clung to her glowing skin. Her hips rolled in hypnotic waves, and the bells at her ankles chimed in time with her movements. Katsuki’s breath hitched.

She was beautiful.

But this was no ordinary dance. Even someone as unversed in such things as he could tell—it was a ritual, something sacred. A mating dance.

His fingers clenched around the hilt of his blade as heat surged through his veins. His people had their own ways of claiming mates, but this? This was something entirely different. Something… enchanting.

The dancer twirled, her long hair fanning out before she suddenly froze. Her dark eyes locked onto his, widening in surprise. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath, her exposed skin glowing in the dim light.

“You…” she breathed, taking an uncertain step back.

Katsuki smirked, stepping into the clearing. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

She studied him, her gaze flickering over the sheer size of him—the powerful muscles, the numerous scars, the heavy furs draped over his shoulders. He looked every bit the warrior he was, the kind of man who had seen more battles than peaceful moments.

“You’re from the Skullcrushers,” she finally murmured, her voice laced with wariness.

His smirk widened. “Damn right.”

The Skullcrushers were a fearsome tribe, known for their strength in battle, their untamed warriors, and their brutal ways. But her people—the Moonveil tribe—were different. They didn’t war. They didn’t conquer. They healed. They danced.

And yet, here she was, standing before a barbarian, caught mid-dance.

Katsuki tilted his head. “What was that?”

She hesitated before answering. “A ritual. A mating dance.”

A slow, pleased chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Hah. So I was right.”

The heat in her cheeks deepened. “It wasn’t meant for you.”

He crossed his arms, clearly amused. “Too late for that, sweetheart.”

She gaped at him. “You—”

“—Looks like I showed up at just the right time,” he interrupted, his gaze darkening. “Maybe it’s fate.”

Her heart pounded against her ribs. This man—this dangerous, untamed force of nature—was looking at her as if she belonged to him. As if the dance had been meant for him all along.

And, gods help her, she wasn’t sure she wanted to argue.

The next few weeks were unexpected.

Katsuki kept coming back.

Every night, he found her. Sometimes, she was dancing. Other times, she was gathering herbs or tending to the wounded. And each time, he would sit nearby, watching her with a gaze so intense it made her skin burn.

She tried to ignore him at first. Tried to pretend that the massive warrior wasn’t standing at the edge of her world, waiting for her to acknowledge him. But it was impossible. His presence was too much.

One night, she finally snapped. “Why are you here?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I want you.”

She nearly dropped the bowl of healing salve in her hands. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, stepping closer. “That dance—your dance—I’m claimin’ it.”

She scoffed, trying to push past him. “That’s not how this works.”

Katsuki grabbed her wrist, gently but firmly. “Then tell me how it works.”

Her breath caught. His grip was warm, solid, but not forceful. Not cruel. His crimson eyes burned into hers, full of want.

“I’m not a warrior,” she whispered.

“Don’t care.”

“I’m not strong.”

His lips twitched. “Bullshit. You’ve got a different kind of strength.”

Her chest tightened. “Your people—”

“They’ll deal with it,” he cut in. “They’ll respect it.”

She hesitated. “And if they don’t?”

Katsuki smirked, his hand tightening around hers. “Then I’ll make ‘em.”

The Skullcrushers were surprised.

Katsuki had never spoken of taking a mate before, let alone one from a peaceful tribe. They expected him to choose a warrior—a battle-hardened woman with bloodstained hands. But instead, he brought home a dancer.

They whispered. They stared.

But none of them dared question him.

Not when he stood beside her, his expression daring anyone to speak against it.

Not when she looked at him with something softer than any of them had ever seen in their ruthless leader.

And when the wedding came—a grand celebration with both their tribes joining together, their traditions merging in a way no one had ever expected—the doubts faded.

Because when she danced for him that night, under the watchful eyes of both their people, there was no question.

She had been meant for him all along.