you’re watching the maury show on your computer when katsuki marches into your room without a word and flops down next to you on your bed.
“ hello to you, too.” you snort. his words are muffled by your sheets but you’re about 90% sure he told you to shut up, you ignore it.
he lays face down on your bed for a while not saying anything and you know he’s had a long day and wants to be close to you without actually talking. you don’t mind, you’ll give him his space until he reaches out himself.
and he does after a little bit, turning his head around to face you as he looks from you to your computer screen, eyes focusing on the woman screaming that the man she cheated on her husband with was 100% not the father of her baby, mixed with the cheers of the audience.
he looks at you and raises a brow “ what’s happenin ?”
“ lady cheated on her husband with his brother.” you respond.
“ his brother ?” he repeats. his eyebrows furrow and you know he’s hooked. if there’s one thing katsuki loves but will never admit he does, it’s trash tv.
you nod, grinning somewhat evilly “his brother. now they’re trying to find out which one’s the father.”
he hums, scooting himself closer to you so he can see the screen too. he flips himself around so his neck isn’t craned at that awkward angle anymore and settles himself down right next to you. hook, line and sinker.
he wraps his arm around your shoulder and shoves his head in your neck, breathing you in. you both don’t say anything. “do you want me to play it from the beginning for you ?” he shakes his head in your neck. you reach your hand up to scratch at his scalp and you smile when he sighs. he holds you a little tighter, pressing feather light kisses into your neck.
katsuki’s never been good at expressing himself with any other emotion that isn’t anger. it makes him feel stupid and weak and soft. he’s had a long fucking day and he doesn’t wanna talk about it, simply wanting to indulge in you but he can’t tell you that, can’t find the words to, so he tries to find other ways to tell you and he hopes you understand and you do.
katsuki’s thankful for you because sometimes he wants to talk, wants to open up about what’s bothering him but sometimes he doesn’t. he doesn’t and you don’t pry when you know he doesn’t and he’s so thankful for you. he presses kisses on your skin and soft bites at your flesh to convey just how thankful he is, how grateful he is for having you. he hopes every warm press of his lips against your skin can convey how much he loves you loving him. and it does, because you turn your head and kiss the side of his head so sweetly and he knows you’re it for him.
he’ll tell you all of this one day, he promises. he’ll tell you all the thoughts swimming around in his head one day, but he hopes this’ll do for now. and unknowingly to him, it absolutely does.
he pulls his head out of your neck and kisses you hard on the cheek one, two, three times and you giggle. you feel him smile into your cheek when he kisses you a fourth time.
“fuck’re they screamin’ about ?” he says and you turn to look back at the screen. the woman is yelling at her husband’s brother vehemently denying the possibility of him being her baby’s father. you feel a little bad for laughing. “ she says he’s not the dad” you answer.
he clicks his tongue “ why the fuck is she on the show then.” he says, turning his attention back to your computer but his grip on you stays secure. you press yourself a little closer to him.
you’re still smiling lightly when you look back at your screen, simply shrugging. “ she said something about her having more sex with her husband than with him.” you answer and he snorts.
“ ten bucks neither one of them’s the father.”
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50. Writer's preference - "And what if it is not you?"
The barb stung and Arthur turned away as quickly as if she had struck him.
These walks had become something of a tradition between the Prince and former Princess over the rolling weeks. With the out of doors near unpassable, Arthur's mornings had shifted to a shorter indoor practice before dawn, followed by a brief repast and then a stroll through the Orangery with the Lady Aria. Though they still argued as often as they didn't, there was something free and flowing in these conversations -- a strange sense that no subject was off limits...And that every single one was somehow taboo. It was perhaps true that they had each been raised as royalty, but it seemed their worlds could not have been more different.
Today, the subject had fallen to that all-encompassing theme of his life, the most pressing topic in the empire, and the one least likely ever to be openly addressed: Roderick's line of succession. It was an ache in his gut, this, a hill he had run up all his childhood only to find a sheer rockface confronting him. Now, scrambling for footholds in the brutal cliffside, it was a race to the top against those he loved most -- a climb now far too high to risk the drop. It was success or the death of all meaning. But what was he to do? Throw his siblings from the sides? They too held on by meager fingertips and he could not bear to think of them dashed against the teeth of the unforgiving stone so far below.
Arthur's jaw clenched. He kept her pace, but he no longer looked at her as she spoke; heard her only as if from a great distance. What was there to say? Yet, her last words burned, searing like vinegar in his cuts, and he turned sharply towards her, a rush sounding in his head.
"What? You favor someone else?" he demanded, all effort at bluster or calm stripped away. Surprise seemed to register in his face and, pressing his eyes shut, he shook his head, realizing she meant this only as rhetoric and, with a look of defeat, he sighed; shook his head. "How should I know? It would be the end for me."
He didn't look at her, now, gaze straying upwards towards the gently nodding trees, branches heavy and sagging with fruit. He thought of the tart-sweet of them, tawny and opening with a kind of crack. Fibrous chambers of juice attended the tiny seeds at the center and this, then, was life. Even trees limned their children with sweet cushions against the harsh reality of the world around them. When he laughed, it was a bitter sound.
Sighing, Arthur shook his head. "Aria, I--" but he stopped. He'd not said her name so baldly before and he gestured, helpless, voice trapped within his throat.
Her eyes were dark: not mere chocolate, but something else as if the sea had leaked into them and tossed against stormy shores within her mind. Her face was set, but he could not read it. He searched for something written there, something designed for him to read: he wanted it. He knew the message he wished to read. A very simple message. He wanted to read it again and again, see it roiling within the storm of her eyes. But there was nothing. She was no harbor. She was, perhaps, another deathly drop.
Aria lifted her chin. "Go on."
"I don't know what will happen if my father chooses someone else any more than you do. But I do know I will be a threat to whoever is chosen, simply for having been in the running, and..."
And if it were Edmund who were selected, whom Arthur regarded as the most likely alternative, he would not expect to long outlive his father -- or even his father's choice. Enemies of the House of Calainon had a way of disappearing. Arthur was not altogether certain they even lifted a finger: they were witches, after all. Likely, all they needed do was wish for a thing, and their dark magic did the rest. Edmund might not wish him gone, perhaps...but Amira would not hesitate. He could not help but think that would make for a horrible ending, all the demons of hell rising at her command. His would be a silent end, he had no doubt, yet he knew, too, that if it were by Amira's hand, he would die howling.
If Aria had said something else, Arthur had not heard it. At last, she said: "And what if the Emperor doesn't choose? What happens to us all, then?"
Arthur stopped short, and Aria beside him. "Then it'd be war."
He walked out without another word.
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An AU where they grew up as upper class rich kids going to fancy charity events and banquets every weekend.
Mike hates them and is dragged to them against his will, but at least Max is also forced to attend with her family, so they don't have to suffer at these stuck up formal parties alone. The Byers-Hoppers are new in town and are attending their first charity event as members of the rich people community of Hawkins and Mike has a bi panic moment when he spots the family's twins in the crowd. (at first his silly ass almost mistakes them for a couple until Max corrects him)
The Wonder Twins(as Max calls them) seem like an intimidating pair, they are in their element at the fancy events, and Mike is very much not. But when he catches the twins pulling pranks on the sidelines of the events, he gets the courage to try and befriend them.
(this had a companion piece of Mike and Max, but anything I made would just not look even close to what the sketch did, so I just put the sketch under the cut)
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I was thinking about growing old with bakugo and it somehow evolved into thinking of him getting all sad grumpy old guy when u die first and now I'm depressed kms
Aw, Oji Bakugo🥺 always out in the garden watering his plants or yelling at the neighborhood kids (who he secretly loves) for bothering him with questions about being a hero. I really love the dynamic of like, one grumpy grandparent and one really sweet one, so I’m also gonna say that’s you and him in how you’re the one always handing out the onigiri and mochi you (both) made for the kiddies.
This is definitely super depressing though LOL, but let’s pretend you are him are/were both helllllllllllaaaaaa old so things seem a little more natural that way. Plus, you have your own kids + grandkids or even Kiri, Deku’s and everyone else’s, too, there taking care of him now that (when) you’re gone.
Calling him Grampy (or something) and asking him to teach them how to cook, or fix something, or even how to make the bed in that way you always liked… I think he’ll be okay🥺
…even if all his “jokes” consist of lamenting about the fact that no one is you:
“Oji! Oji!!! Guess what?”
“You brought my wife back from the dead?”
“Uh, no…? I got a—”
“Then I don’t care.”
“…”
“I’m just kidding, kid. Tell me that again.”
LMAOOO LIKE LITERALLY EVERYONE YELLS AT HIM FOR THAT😩😩😩
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