Y’all I Wanna Write But My Bimbo Brain Is Literally Empty Like Pls Gimme Something To Write Abt For

✨Women✨

#Step on me, ladies

literally gonna kiss that curly headed fuck

pretty boy ⭒ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

summary: you admire Eddie's face as you lay on his chest

pairing(s): eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: making out(?), mostly just fluff

notes: hey guys! It's been so long omg. I'm kinda jumping from fandom to fandom, but I still really want to write again and I miss my moots on here 😭

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A quiet sigh left your lips as your half open eyes peered at the tv. Your head laid on Eddie's chest, your arms practically asleep as they were underneath his back on the couch. Eddie was passed out with his arms securely around your body, holding you as close to him as he possibly could. Sounds of small snores filled the room, almost blocked out by the sound of the loud tv that had been replaying The Shining. A smile curled up on your lips as you could hear his heartbeat from lying your ear close to his chest.

A small grunt escapes your lips as you slowly shift your head up to get a better look at his face. He contorts slightly, eyes still closed, and moves his arms up your body to keep you close as you moved. You chuckled quietly as you looked down at his sleeping face. Your eyes moved up and down as you carefully examined his facial features, from his thick eyebrows down to his plump pink lips. You reached up your hand and softly traced down his jawline and up to lay your palm on the side of his face and caress his cheek with your thumb. After a couple moments of you staring in compete admiration, you heard him grunt softly and slowly begin to open his eyes. He breathed in deeply and a large smile spread across his lips as he noticed your face looking down on him. "Whatcha' doing there, princess?" He asked, his voice a bit husky from just waking up. "Just-" You brought your hand up to lay in his hair. "Just admiring you." You spoke softly and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. "Admiring?" He asked, a stupid smile beaming on his face. You chuckled as you laid your head down on his chest for a moment before sitting up and having both your legs on either side of his torso. "Yeah, you're just so pretty." You said as you cupped his face and pressed another kiss onto his lips. "So handsome." You pulled away for a moment just to kiss him once again. Eddie felt like he was going to melt from your words and now your lips on his. His hands moved up to wrap around your back and pull you down so that your chest is touching his, your lips still intertwined.

He held onto you tightly as he turned over so that he was now over you and you had your head lying against the arm of the couch. He pulled away from your lips for a moment as he looked down at you. "I could say the same thing about you sweetheart." He smiled and kept his hands securely at the sides of your waist, slightly under your shirt. You felt the cold metal of his rings at your sides causing a shiver to run up your spine. "You're stunning, baby." He whispers as he leans down and locks your lips in a deep kiss. You smile against his lips and pull him closer. He pulls back for a moment before laying his head down into the crook of your neck, leaving a few last kisses on your neck. "You're everything to me, baby." He hums into your neck and you pull your hand up and hold the back of his head. "I love you, Eddie." You whisper before pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. "I love you too, sweetheart." He responded, you could feel his smile on your neck. You rubbed circles into his back as you both fell asleep again slowly after.

Obsessed with AO3 writers, who are a particularly fascinating subspecies of homo sapien.

In the Margins | K.Bakugou

Katsuki tries to be subtle about how much he likes you. He really, really does. There’s no explanation as to why, it’s just how he is. 

When surrounded by reporters, he glares and does his best not to respond. After all, no answer is less satisfactory than a string of insults when his hostilities are still an interesting headline. When someone asks him if it’s true that he has a romantic interest, that’s the only time his eyes widen in surprise. They still don’t get an answer as his PR specialist doesn’t give him time to respond, but given a moment longer the latest headliner would’ve been about his relationship with you— Or at the very least, a blurry paparazzi photo collage of the two of you, and a single photo of his particularly annoyed expression, captioned: “Dynamight reacts to dating claims!” 

He doesn’t really talk about you with his friends, but it becomes a running joke that to get his attention they should call your name. They sit together at a restaurant, Katsuki in the seat furthest from the action. No matter the topic of conversation, nothing seems to elicit an exciting response from him (if you don’t count the angry fist-slam on the counter when he commands Denki to stop stealing his fries). But when Kirishima turns to the entry and says, “Hey, it’s Y/N!”, he jolts to attention, swiveling in his chair and looking to the doorway, only to find that no one is there. The boys holler and laugh, calling him loverboy and the like, saying how pleased you would’ve been to see it. Katsuki fumes. He’s glad that he’s known for being angry. It masks how much he wishes that you had actually walked through that door. 

He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself when left alone in your presence. He wants to look at you, but when you make eye contact with him, he glares. When you talk to him, he scoffs a nonchalant response. But his body language can’t feign interest: he turns in your direction even when unspoken to, his voice deepens and his fingers drum nervously in his lap when you’re around. Even if he chooses to keep his distance, his thoughts keep you near. This much he can’t deny, and when you ask him on a date one night, he finds that he can’t deny you either. 

Things are different when he’s by himself entirely. He thinks about how nice your hair looked or how the dress you wore to dinner suited you. He prepares lunch for tomorrow, two servings: one for himself, and the other he will give to you, claiming they are leftovers. He rereads the texts you’ve sent him and looks for deeper meaning, but doubts there actually is any. It doesn’t stop him from smiling when he receives a goodnight message from you though. 

He doesn’t let you know everything. But he does let you know some things, to be extrapolated from there. If he recognizes that you wore lipstick he makes no comment, if he notices the way you sit closely he doesn’t move. He won’t tell you that he thinks red looks stunning on you, or that he likes it when your knees bump his. But he memorizes the shape of your lips as you speak, tracing the curve of your smile to find later in his dreams. 

When he finally tells you he loves you, you know he means it. Bakugou Katsuki is nothing if not true to himself.

He may never be an open book for you, aside from his rare outward confessions. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be read. Flitting fingers on the back of your hand, a palm placed softly on your waist, warm meals, perfected drink orders and flowers on your doorstep without a card, only his name. He walks you home even when it’s inconvenient, takes the last train home to stay later with you, and runs through the rain to give you his spare umbrella, complaining about how wet his socks are only once you’re out of earshot. His rough hands learn to be gentle, and though he doesn’t whisper sweet nothings in your ear, his kisses linger on your hands, your lips, your neck. 

His gestures are humble but he makes them feel extravagant. It’s the same when he gets down on one knee in your shared bedroom, presenting a ring that only has one meaning; when he smiles softly as you walk down the aisle, wearing a dress you had talked about but he’d never seen; when he comes home to you every night, spending a few extra minutes in bed when morning comes; when he feels age in his bones but stays youthful with you.  

Bakugou Katsuki’s love is of the subtle variety: no bold text or pretty font, looping in and around a perfectly crafted story. But it’s written in the margins, permanent marker bleeding through the pages: There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to be with you. 

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A/N: Let’s just call this one a tribute to my 1 year blog anniversary, a reiteration of how I view love, the core of every work I’ve written so far— I will indulge in it over and over again.

Date posted: 3/10/23

Just realized that all of the apps go to Wordscapes instead of the actual app (only tumblr works) so now I have to redo everything…..

Thanks apple and shortcuts :)

My Adrian themed phone layout (slightly chaotic)

Feel free to use for Inspo or something :D

Get you some friends who take Polaroids of you! No, I didn’t set a Polaroid up and use the self timer haha YOURE crazy!

Meanwhile In Hawkins