Thanks amby!! Here’s an excerpt from the second chapter of “I See You” hoping I can work out the kinks and bring it out of hiatus 🙃
Arvin tried to push Y/n from his mind. His second day in town, he hadn’t gone to Jump’s at all and just found another small diner to get his meals from. But he caught himself thinking of her, subconsciously doing double-takes of ladies who even remotely resembled her on the street, and wanting to coax that smile from her again.
Bakugou exhaled in relief as freezing cold water soothed his burning skin. Ah, finally.
It was bad for Bakugou to get this sweaty. He’d probably need to shower three times a day to keep his sweat in check for safety reasons. Ugh.
Shit. He’d forgotten to grab his favorite body soap from his suitcase. Maybe he could just use Deku’s…?
And that’s when he saw the small green bottle of lube innocently standing next to the bigger green bottle of shampoo.
Without warning, his mind supplied him an image of Deku, flushed and fucking himself on his fingers, rivulets of water dripping down his slick skin. Even then, he wouldn’t spare himself - his legs would be fully open, cock hard and dripping. His lewd lips would be parted as he panted, and then his breathy voice would ring in Bakugou’s ears, “fuck me, Katsu--”
Bakugou exclaimed loudly, sparks releasing at the end of his fingertips. His embarrassed yell echoed around the small bathroom walls. Where the fuck did that come from? He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply.
“Kacchan!” Deku’s worried tones floated into the bathroom from outside. Bakugou’s chest tightened with heat. “Everything okay?” His voice was casual, unknowing.
That shithead Deku.
“SHUT UP, DUMBASS!” Silence. “MIND YOUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS!” As soon as the words left his mouth, Bakugou glanced at the bottle of lube again, a wave of guilt melting his raging heart.
please be patient i will eventually get back to rapid posting
im just working on a lot of big things, such as art trades (to the people who are waiting for their art trade im so sorry for the slow process i will send it to you soon), non-canon couple troll doodles, 🌈pride stuff for pride month, and like ✨t h r ee ✨ comics... i know that sounds like im over-working myself but im just being prepared cause i wanna post things on its actual date instead of being a late stupid bean.
"Yeah, I had shitty parents too." He sighed. "I killed them both."
I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw my parents again. What I would say, what I would ask. I could never think of the right words. But the thought of killing them, well that made me smile.
"What was it like?" I asked, slightly shocking myself.
Jerome grinned from ear to ear and stepped closer so that we were toe to toe.
“Have you ever stood at the edge of a really tall building? You know that little voice in the back of your head that says ‘Jump! You can fly!’ even though every other part of you is screaming ‘No you can’t! You’re gonna kill us!’”
I nodded shakily.
“It’s like finally giving in to that voice. Like jumping off Gotham Bridge and finding out you can fly. And realising you never have to walk again.”
Chapters titles are based on the lyrics from “Stubborn Love” by The Lumineers
Chapter 2: Than Nothing at All - Coming 5/14
Killian reached for the loaf of bread on the shelf in front of him. Gathering each of the items on his list without much fanfare. He kept to himself mostly, not bringing any unwanted attention his direction. He smiled at the cashier, handing over the cash for the groceries and tipping his hat before heading to the exit.
“See you in a few months, Rogers.” The woman smiled as he opened the door.
He nodded silently and shut the door behind him. Trekking through the town streets, he kept his eyes to the ground, avoiding eye contact with anyone who passed by him. Killian had no intention of befriending anyone in the town he visited every few months to pick up supplies before heading back to his home, hidden away in the lush forest.
He had his own garden, a well for water, and he had gotten used to living without electricity in his time spent at his cabin he built with his own hands. Only the items he couldn’t grow on his own required him to drive into the small town, purchase his necessities, and get back to his haven of solidarity before sundown.
He hadn’t always lived this way, yet he welcomed it now more than anything. His interactions were limited to the people he was forced to speak to in town during these visits. Killian was sure he wouldn’t have a single idea how to hold a conversation anymore.
There were days when he didn’t even hear his own voice, let alone use it to form a real sentence. Except for the times that he sought advice from himself or his dog, Jolly. In those cases, he found himself mumbling, sometimes he would answer for himself or the mutt and other times he would simply laugh for bothering to ask questions out loud in the first place.
He tossed the bags into the back of his truck, slamming the tailgate shut behind him. Climbing into the seat he pushed the key into the ignition but was stopped by a hand slipping into view of his open window.
Killian nodded to the man, “Sheriff.”
The man looked into the back of the truck, before turning back to face him. “Supply run?”
“Yes, sir.” He answered quietly.
“Bad weather headed this way.” The man pointed to the sky. “Looks like we might get some heavy rains, saying winter might be coming early.”
“Good thing I grabbed my supplies today then.” He said with a nod, turning the key in the ignition. The man kept his hand firmly attached to the vehicle.
Hi y'all. I wanted to give y'all this little peek of an upcoming work, specifically this request! It's called I'm Gonna Be Just Like You and it is a Spencer/Reader fic in which reader is Cat's ex, which takes place sometime post Season 15 (one of the only times you'll see me acknowledge s15, let alone write based on it!)
Peek after the cut. Enjoy!
He shrugs, hands placed back in his pockets. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in this situation.”
I chuckle lightly. “You mean your ex girlfriend has never been executed for murder before?” The look on his face tells me that was the wrong move, and I find myself extending my laugh to make it seem like a joke.
He blanches, hands flying out of his pockets, palms out and shielding himself from me.“ She was not my girlfriend.” Wasn’t she?
“Oh.” I shuffle awkwardly. “I just assumed because…” I assumed because if he hadn’t known Cat the way I did, why did she leave me his box? And why did it look like a lover’s altar?
He looks at me wryly. “She was yours?”
I shrug. “Yeah.” He grimaces, but there’s a hint of jealousy behind his bared teeth.“ I never claimed to make good decisions.” It’s true. I never learned how to do that, how to put myself first.