a hint of a smile tugs at your lips at the seemingly innocent request katsuki slurs into the darkness as you get him into bed that friday night.
the bedroom you're in, his bedroom - and which you've come to know so well that you might as well consider it your own instead - is neat and tidy as ever. perfectly him.
every piece of furniture has its own rightful place. the decoration is scarce, but surprisingly tasteful; that is if you ignore the shelf full of all might figurines that's situated right above the desk. adorned with starlight and a hint of blue-ish purple light coming from the neon sign that's right across the street, shadows of all shapes and sizes cover the walls.
and they dance, the shadows and their odd shapes. twirling and spinning all across the flat surface whenever a car drives by the window that overlooks the street outside, they remind you of living things. and speaking of living things; the night itself can be considered as one of them. it makes the city feel alive.
people walk the streets no matter the hour in a city this big. they share inside jokes and they laugh and gossip and spill secrets they'll talk about further about in the morning, when they're feeling a bit more sober. but besides the occasional chatter and the low hum of turning car tires, it's quiet. peaceful - if you're used to tuning out all the traffic noise and other nonsense. you, living in the very center of the flashy city havoc for quite a while now, find it oddly comforting at almost one in the morning.
however, to you, the room you're currently standing in also beats the comfort the city brings any day. most definitely.
because as you inhale, savouring a nice, deep breath, you realize that it smells fresh and familiar; like home, or rather the person you think of as home. like the fabric softener that wafts from the newly-washed bed sheets you've just finished tucking him in, and the chilly breeze of late spring that's only snuck its way into the room because of the fact that katsuki 'blood running as hot as his temper' bakugou prefers to sleep with his windows open no matter the season.
and that's completely fine, it's just dandy - even if it does tend to get a little too cold for your taste, personally. the problem at hand is that besides the open windows, your best friend also prefers to sleep with you in the room with him. right by his side, where you belong. constantly.
most don't believe it if they've gotten the chance to meet him and know what he's like, but it's true. he actually likes you. and sure, it may seem like he simply tolerates your company instead of enjoying it more often than not, with his constant eye rolls and low-spoken grumbles for answers, but you know him better than that.
you know that just from the way he wishes to have you around, like now, willing to share his comforter and pillow with you whenever he's at his most vulnerable - a sight he never lets anyone see but you. it's the little things when it comes to katsuki, and you also know that the action alone is the same as if he were to tear the very moon off the sky every night for you before placing it into your awaiting hands.
he trusts you with it. he trusts you with his heart.
and it's been like that for a long while, ever since you were kids, actually. since you'd borderline forced him to be your friend by smiling those big, foolish grins at him even if one of your teeth was missing at the time. since you'd brought him neat little presents, most of them candy and gum, for his birthday every year, even if he wasn't particularly a fan of sugar and you only found out about it years later. since you weren't afraid to hold his hand even if it got much too warm, much too quick all of a sudden and could even make sparks fly, while yours had been simply covered in bright yellow sidewalk chalk instead.
and katsuki, well, he had pretended for a long while that he didn't appreciate the way you'd persisted and consistently kept putting in the effort into getting to know who he truly was. had feigned that he didn't care about all the smiles and the kind gestures and even sweeter gifts. never being a boy with a tendency to display affection all that much, he found it hard to demolish the walls he'd spent ages building around himself and to really portray what he truly felt.
but years passed, as they tend to do. by the time you had both grown up and parted ways, he realized how special it was what he had. how he took it for granted. and once for a change, he was the one reaching out to you this time, over social media he rarely used but still had because everyone else - you - did. he was the one attempting to grow closer. to rekindle the spark and all the warmth to accompany it. because he missed it.
he missed you.
so you met up whenever you could. you partied a bit on the weekends; whenever school would let you. you held study sessions for entirely different subjects because you attended entirely different schools. he helped you move into your new place, and you helped him move out of his parents' house. he taught you how to cook because you were, in his words, absolutely shit at it. you taught him how to not kill all of the plants in his new apartment when he'd gotten tired of his college dorm, because he was, in your words, an incompetent plant dad.
you laughed, sometimes you cried, but mostly laughed. shared experiences and adventures that you still like to reminisce about to this day. and your friendship grew with them. it got more solid; sturdy. different, in more ways than one. and it's even more different now.
now that he's no longer a boy, but a man.
"hey," said man's voice brings you back to reality now. you blink as you feel his fingertips touch the sleeve of your sweater. his touch is warm as it always is. "you still in there, dummy?"
reaching down to pat the top of his head playfully, you try to ignore the way he angles it further into your palm as you say, "funny! but i can't stay tonight, kat."
he truly is just that: a cat. one that nearly purrs at your touch whenever it gets drunk, that nuzzles its face into the crook of your neck and that turns oddly clingy, too. but only when he feels like it. not you.
"sure ya can," he answers almost immediately even if his tongue feels way too heavy and slow to sit inside his mouth properly. the answer is simple but it's also assured. definite. like it's up to him to choose what you'll do. how you'll live.
come to think of it, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. your best friend does know you best. it's right there in the title.
a sigh leaves your lips at the thought as you look at him with slightly narrowed eyes now. he's relaxed; pleasantly tipsy because he allows himself to lower his guard down around you and drink more than he normally does with others. his irises are hazy and dark red instead of crystal clear, pupils big and eyelids as heavy as your heart. the signature spikes of ash blonde have turned sort of droopy and ruffled.
maybe they've absorbed some of the alcohol as well. it's funny to think about.
"katsuki," you start, stifling a chuckle, "you know that i've got work tomorrow-"
"c'mon," he interrupts with a mere murmur, his grip a surprisingly tenacious one to wrap around your wrist as he grabs it with his much bigger hand. "stay with me tonight."
"i can't," you repeat softly when he tugs at your hand for a second time. his fingers are so hot now that it feels like they're making your skin burn the moment they touch it, and you wonder if that's what the perps he's constantly chasing after experience whenever he gets close enough to use his quirk on the poor suckers.
there's a beat of silence between you before he chides, "can't or won't?"
"stop that." that makes me feel bad.
"well, you'd stay if you wanted to... just sayin'. 'cause i know you don't start work that early." he pauses to yawn. "but it's whatever, you do you. i don't care." i hope you do feel bad.
you don't respond to that. you don't know what to say. you never do.
so seconds pass. one, two, three.
"ugh... i didn't mean it like that," he says at some point as he rubs his temple. "i just-"
"it's fine. don't worry about it," you let out through a tight-lipped smile. "it's no biggie, really."
"it's not fine. just... lemme drive you to work tomorrow as an apology? i promise that i will, if you stay," he insists when he sees you starting to drift away again. pushes, because he wants to have his way with you. "please? i need you."
please.
you know what he actually wants, the thing he's been taking for months now, and yet the word still makes you fold because it's sweet and kind. makes you sigh again as you give in and pull your sweater over your head so that you can change into one of his t-shirts instead. makes you climb into bed with him the moment your jeans pool at your ankles and the comforter covers your bare legs. makes you allow him to wrap his arms around you in the too-tight way he prefers, but that leaves you awake, with your breaths awfully shallow in return.
because what matters most is that he's happy. and nothing makes him happier than when you're safe; right there in his arms, even if they do have a tendency to squeeze you just a little bit too much for your liking. even if they are just a little bit too possessive because you feel good, and good things must always be within reach to a man like him. only him, no other boys allowed.
please. it's so rare for him to say a thing like that that it almost tastes foreign on his tongue. but he still says it. just for you, no other girls involved.
please, he says as he presses your spine against his chest and sneaks his way under your - his - dynamight t-shirt, lifting it until the hem is touching the collar and your tits are exposed. please, he whispers whilst kissing your neck as that same hand glides all over your front in a way a best friend's shouldn't before he slides it into your panties instead.
please, he mumbles as his cock glides between your soaked folds a minute later; savouring the skin on skin contact even if it's messy and sticky all over. please, he grunts even if his sensitive tip already catches right at your fluttering hole and pushes in, in, in. until your breath hitches in your throat and your back arches in a way that makes you stick your ass out for him, as if in invitation even if you've never said the words.
please, he moans as he turns you over until you're laying flat on your stomach and he's pounding away like it's the last thing he'll do; making your curves jiggle and the headboard of the bed slam against the wall that's still covered in shadows. please, he grits out through clenched teeth when he feels your soaked pussy squeeze around him and try to push him out.
you're so close that you feel like your heart is about to give out any second now. he's heavy and too hot, too rough, too drunk; you need him out, out, out. you're going to burst if he doesn't stop because of how full you are.
"please, katsuki," you whimper, tears staining the pillow, his pillow that smells just like him as your nails claw at it until the softness is right inside your palms. it's all his.
"please, pretty," he says in return, pushing right back in. he's always pushing with everything. "just a lil' more for me. i need a lil' bit more from you." and you're gonna give it to me.
and yet your back arches again. and again. and again. accepting every thrust deeper, even if you said you couldn't. accepting his hand in your own because you're not afraid of the sparks and the danger it brings along - never had been. accepting the rude ignorance from your best friend in the heat of the moment because he otherwise does care about you.
he cares about you so much. just not while he's balls deep inside of you. just not while that same hand presses against the back of your neck so that he can gain the leverage to fuck into you better.
and it's your fault, or at least that's what he silently tells you with his actions. you made him like this. you crawled into bed with him. you let him take and take and take. he just asked. he used to be just fine on his own, but now he can't live without his best friend anymore. you're the pushy one. you, you, you.
and you also come with benefits he can't possibly resist.
The magic of childhood is that you were constantly encountering new things. The best way to feel that way again is to fill your life with new experiences.
It's always happened whenever they think no one's looking, the brief moments of respite when their attendant has the time to drift off to their own thoughts.
The brothers thought they'd enjoy those moments, of silence and respite, they're so rare, and MC's always got their hands full with one thing or another.
So...why do they look so sad?
It's not hard to notice them drifting off into their own thoughts, with a pain in their eyes so all-consuming, it almost hurts to look at them.
When MC's gaze clouds over, their eyes turn glassy, ready to cry, the smile falls from their lips, replaced with this slackened, vacant expression, barely holding in whatever it is that pains them.
But then, someone will snap them out of it, and it's like nothing ever happened, they go back to the smiling attendant, working their butt off to keep the brothers out of trouble, taking paperwork off Lucifer and Diavolo's plates, all while helping them all become more than what they were.
They know how Lucifer likes his coffee, they know Belphie's favourite kind of pillow, they keep snacks on hand for Beel and never laugh or poke at him for being hungry, they share Leviathan's delight and keep up with all his fandoms, they shop with Asmodeus and remind him that his beauty isn't just on his body, they've become Mammon's best friend and always seem to know when to start controlling the chaos, and Satan... MC was perhaps the only one who understood, apart from Lucifer.
When Satan raged, they didn't hide, or laugh at him for feeling, the avatar of Wrath had no idea what to do with someone who simply understood.
With everything they did, all the running around and being reliable, it was scary to see them... quiet. They're so used to seeing MC laughing, grinning, like they could whip all three worlds into shape, if only that pit of sadness didn't swallow them up.
Still, the brothers will ask, want to help, but asking only seems to send a lance of hurt to MC's heart, as they smile so sweetly with watery eyes.
"I'm okay, you don't need to worry."
"It's nothing, just a sad scene in a movie I saw."
"Huh? I'm fine!"
Solomon's the only one who knows what happens when the front door of Cocytus hall slams shut, when silence encompasses the building and MC feels alone behind four walls.
That's when the tears fall, that's when the truth whispers past their lips.
she lays an idea egg every day whether you use it or not
idea eggs will be plentiful for you because the world is a vast and fascinating source of ideas and you donât need luck or blog voodoo to have them for breakfast every morning
My MC in their bunny costume! I donât have a name, but this MC does have character! Analytical and observant, MC is wide eyed and quick witted, but often quiet. Taking observations in the devildom would usually create a cautious person, but MC is still exceptionally reckless when it comes to satiating a curiosity or a boredom. Their main weakness; a crippling love of tasty food. Wag creme brĂťlĂŠe in front of them and they might just commit war crimes for it.
And that is what I have so far folks! I might keep posting updates (if I ever get around to developing MC, lol)
That post floating around about kindle worlds filled me with So Much Fear - I looked into it and thankfully itâs not relevant any more. The post circulating is from 2013 and kindle worlds got shut down in 2018. So thereâs no current amazon related attack on fanfic, as far as Iâm aware. Thank god.
But I will say that in the ten minutes I spent not sure if kindle worlds was an immediate threat or not, I was so so grateful that ao3 exists. Nothing makes you appreciate just how unique and important ao3 is as a platform like hearing about an amazon-led attempt to use fanfic authors as a cash cow/have us sign away ownership of the things we create does. Seriously, look at this line from kindle worldâs old tos:
âBy using the platform, authors give all rights to the work to Amazon, who can then license your elements to other authors with no compensation to the original poster.â
That sentence really puts the fear of god in me tbh. Itâs easy to take for granted the protections ao3 affords us and the freedom it gives us, especially for relatively younger fans (like myself) who first got involved in fandom after the archive was already established. But we really are so lucky to have a place like ao3 to post our work. We are so lucky to have the otw advocating for us and lobbying on our behalf. We could very easily be living in a world where exploitative sites like amazonâs are the standard or even the only option for fanfic authors, but weâre not, because a group of fans got together and worked tirelessly to build a space that we could truly call our own - autonomous and entirely seperate from any corporate profit-motivated ecosystem, dedicated to protecting our right to exist, our right to create, our right to have a community. Thatâs special. I canât even imagine fandom without it.
Anyway. Hearing about the whole kindle worlds thing reminded me that if we value ao3, weâre all responsible for maintaining and defending it. Iâll be donating to the ao3 this year; if you get any value out of fanfiction and youâre in the financial position to do so, I would encourage you to do the same. Hereâs hoping that when the next kindle worlds comes along weâre coordinated enough to take a stand against it.
@sunnyislazy I probably should have put a link in the original post!
You can donate to ao3 here. The Organisation For Transformative Works is very transparent about where and how they spend their money, so if youâre the kind of person who wants to be sure that your donation is being put to good use, you can view ao3âs latest budget update here or peruse their history of budget updates here.
Also, for anyone who doesnât know, ao3 does a donation drive twice anually in April and October where they fundraise their major operational costs for the year. If you canât give right now, thatâs a really good opportunity to donate!
Nazis, TERFs, pedophiles, bigots, Tr*mp supporters, Islamophobes, exclusionists, queerphobes, and anyone who canât reblog this post, etc, do not interact. I will block you.
I just spent like two hours writing a fic AND I PRESSED TO GET RID OF THE READ MORE PIECE AND IT DELETED MY WHOLE FUCKING THING!!!!! TWO HOURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm never writing on Tumblr again, im going back to writing my fics on google fucking docs lol
ALRIGHTY a quick lil head canon with the boys and some mildly 18+ stuff. Nothin too bad just smoking. This is Luciferâs hc. Iâm gonna be posting them separately bc I only have the power within me to do one of these bad boys every now and again
TW: smoking, weed
â˘The idea hits one day when MC is sitting on the couch, REALLY wanting to get higher than the Empire State
⢠of course, itâs always better to get fucked up with good pals, so naturally MC calls upon their favorite pal in the Devildom
â˘whoâs demeanor might change the most under the influence?
⢠the thought pops into MCs head, and their legs carry them to Lucifer's office faster than they can think
⢠a quick knock and an âenterâ later, Lucifer sees the grin on MCs face
⢠and immediately returns his attention back to his work, which is much more important than whatever dumb scheme the humans trying to have Lucifer give permission to
⢠after a good hour of slowly negotiating him out of his office and to his room to get him to relax a bit, you spring him with what you initially came to ask
⢠âwanna smoke?â
⢠he ponders it, and to your obvious delight, AGREES
⢠Of course, when you pull out a blunt, he slightly taken aback. He thought you meant tobacco
⢠you explain to him that... of course not.
⢠and ask again, âwanna smoke?â Wow does he love and trust you because YES! HE WOULD LOVE TO!
⢠and so you proceed to light the fuck up
⢠he is a light weight. Iâm sorry. Itâs the rules
⢠but ofc he is, when does he ever find the time to smoke? Heâs almost always got his brothers and his work to deal with, so the last time he got high was literal (human) lifetimes ago
⢠even after it really hits, heâs trying to keep his bitch face on and sit up straight
⢠you have to coerce him into lying down with you so that he can just enjoy the feeling (itâs not that hard to get him to the bed bc heâs whipped for you on a regular basis, but now that heâs high heâs putty in your hands)
⢠once you get him to laugh at something tho? That smile will stay on his face the whole. Night.
⢠itâs nice to see Mr. prim and proper have a good time just hangin out.
⢠you guys sit in his nice room on his nice bed and cuddle for some hours, talking quietly with classical music in the background
titsay
prguitarman
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
