Making My Humidifier And Dehumidifier Participate In A Cruel And Pointless War

book quotes that i will never recover from

"he is half of my soul, as the poets say. " - song of achilles

"write me a letter telling me how to live the rest of my life without you." - how to make friends with the dark

"they were my birthday presents." - shatter me

"she had realized that she had forgotten the precise blue of his eyes and the depth of his laugh." - clockwork princess

"my name is sam cortland... and i will not be afraid." - assassin's blade

"you chose me four years ago. would you choose me still?" - these violent delights

"we were all supposed to make it." - crooked kingdom

"i remember everything." - the invisible life of addie larue

"come home and shout at me. come home and fight with me. come home and break my heart, if you must. just come home." - cruel prince

"i wasted all those yesterdays and am completely out of tomorrows." - they both die at the end

"you hated the idea of me." - the final gambit

"bob says hello." - house of hades

"abuse can feel like love. starving people will eat anything." - nightfall

"i missed you only with an ocean between us. but if death was separating us... i would find you." - queen of shadows

"i loved him. i love him. as best i could." - we were liars

"i'm the villain, even in my own story. but you were supposed to play a different role." - finale

"i will find you again in the next world—the next life. and we will have that time. i promise." - a court of wings and ruin

"i spent half of my time loving her and the other half hiding how much i loved her." - the seven husbands of evelyn hugo

Thinking about newboyfriend!bakugou who doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants.

You’re standing at the counter chopping up veggies for dinner, and you feel him brush up behind you, leaning his forehead on your shoulder, hands softly resting on the tops of your hips.

“Making your favorite.” You whisper.

“Mm.”

Not satisfied by his response, you turn your head to look at where he rests against you. His eyes are shut and crinkled in the corners. You press a lingering kiss to his cheek, which feels much too hot under your lips.

“Are you okay? You feel hot.”

“M’fine.”

Putting the knife down, you’ve turned into him now, and you can tell he doesn’t want to look at you by the way he buries his face into your neck, “Katsuki, what’s wrong?”

“I just-“ His voice is higher than normal, muffled by your skin, “You look, really good, and I- I don’t want you to cook. Anymore.”

“…You don’t want dinner?”

“No, I fuckin’-“ He pushes away from you, eyes wild, cheeks red, and you’re worried you’ve upset him- misunderstood him-

“Come to fuckin’ bed with me.”

Oh.

when you know exactly how you want a scene to go but as soon as you sit down to write it you are suddenly staring at some of the worst sentences mankind has ever strung together.

bakugo fluff to heal the soul!

bakugo katsuki was fuming in his seat.

it’s not necessarily strange for him to be doing so, but normally it was due to the antics of kirishima and kaminari that gets him all riled up. this time though? it was you.

it all started the moment you stepped foot into the classroom because as soon as mina noticed you, she was already shouting her heart out at this hour of the morning (not that the time mattered much to bakugo because he wanted her to shut up at all times of the day).

but it was what she said that ticked him off even more.

“y/n! you’ve got an admirer!”

bakugo katsuki had to watch in slow-fucking-motion how your face lit up in a (beautiful) smile that almost had his anger raging as wildly as his explosions because it wasn’t him that was making you smile like that.

it wasn’t his love letter that had you giggling and flustered, it wasn’t his bouquet of flowers that you were fawning over and it wasn’t his box of sweets that you were admiring. only he had the right to make you feel like that. 

bakugo is brought out of his misery with the familiar voice of a certain red-haired. “oi! thought you’d never confess to y/n, finally grew a pair?” kirishima asked, bending down to match the blond’s seated position. 

bakugo scowls harder as he gruffly murmured, “that wasn’t me.”

“oh man! really?” kirishima looked back at your desk, noticing the gentle way that you were handling the gifts, setting them down on the floor beside you. “i guess y/n is popular, better shoot your shot before it’s too late.”

small explosions spark from bakugo’s palms as he screams, “i know, dumbass!” 

for the rest of school he had to witness the dazed, delicate expression you wore, paired with a gentle smile that never seemed to fade from your lips the whole day. he even found you fiddling with the card you received, reading it over for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. 

bakugo could write a better one. 

and if that wasn’t enough, he had to watch the way you held the gifts closely in your arms, cradled protectively to your chest as you tried to preserve their sacredness, hearing about how you were going to ‘put the flowers on my windowsill. they’ll be so pretty!’. 

he was going to blast those stupid floras into pieces, not understanding why you were feeling so special over some stupid extra’s ‘chivalrous’ actions because you deserved far better.

and you better fucking believe that he could make you smile wider than anyone else 

that’s what he did, knocking on your door ferociously the next day, bakugo katsuki was holding an even bigger bouquet of arranged flowers, far more grand than the small one you received yesterday, as well as some of your favourite pastries from the local bakery that you always took him to. and as a card? well, it was him. did you need any more? 

was his heart racing because of nerves or because of spite? he didn’t know.

“coming!” your voice comes from the other side of the door and sure enough, the telltale sign of a door unlocking reaches bakugo’s ears. you greet him with a smile, “oh, hey! bakugo- whoa, that is a big bouquet of flowers.”

“‘s for you,” he grumbles, unable to look away from your expression, gauging for a reaction. you’re silent for a moment before pointing at yourself. 

a weak ‘me?’ slips past your mouth.

“who else, dumbass? you’re the only one worthy of fuckin’ flowers.”

he dumps them in your arms and you gape at him. “wait- was it you that gave me-”

“nope, but you best believe i outdid them.”

you laugh, a sound that bakugo has grown to cherish over the time you’ve spent together. with a softer, adoring look in your eyes, bakugo thinks he’s reached the peak of life as you meet his gaze. “thank you, bakugo,” you say quietly but there’s something in your voice that tells him that you’re trying to keep your giddiness on the low. he can tell in the way that you marvel at the flowers with a wondrous expression, holding them to your heart.

he scoffs, not in a dismissive way, but in a manner of content.

“oi, i’m takin’ you out tomorrow night, on a date.” bakugo tells you and your chest flutters in the way that it always does when you’re around him. “you’re always pretty so i don’t need to tell you this, but dress nice.”

you beam at him and his heart stutters, “‘kay, only for you though.”

“don’t say shit like that!” the blush on bakugo’s face tells you enough as he stomps away.

he’s happy when you send him a picture of his flowers that sit pretty on your windowsill.

theres too many i cant name just two

me: dude i don’t feel like writing

anon: *compliments my fic once*

me one millisecond later:

Oh so now I’m “gay” just because I have a lot of gay thoughts and gay feelings?

HE’S NOTHING COMPARED TO ME miya atsumu 18+

cw: smut. female reader. no protection. oral. enemies to lovers. hate s^x! one bed trope :) repost!—2.3k+

[ masterlist ✮ suna + kuroo + osamu! ]

“get your dirty hands off me.”

he scoffed, pushing his nose into the back of your neck, “don’t act like ya don’t like it, princess.”

arguing with miya atsumu on a day you were anticipating relaxation was not part of your schedule—to be fair, arguing with him was never planned at all, but he always seemed to weasel his way into your plans.

whether it was when you cleaned the msby jerseys, fixed the net before their practice, any basic chore—he always had something to critique you on. ‘it’s too low’ or ‘you missed a spot’ slipping through his lips more times than you could count, and that stupid smile he wore at your frustration never drifted.

he was nothing but a perfectionist in the end, and as much as you wished he kept it to himself; he didn’t. it was second nature at this point to listen to his small complaints, and it pained you to know exactly why he was that way.

growing up with constant competition of a twin who always seemed to be a little better than you in everything was difficult to grow out of, and perhaps you had the smallest bit of a soft spot for him because of it.

and as you avoided most things involving atsumu, he couldn’t help but infiltrate your schedule each and every time. being forced to bunk with one of the most irritating men on the team would have caused a migraine if he hadn’t already created one hours prior. the small snickers from the other members that filled your ears as you pulled the short end of the stick made it even worse; a vein could nearly pop from your forehead due to frustration.

to make things even worse, atsumu was already mad at you to begin with. being forced to share a room with him made him feel a mixture of emotions. the way you flirted with his brother hours prior repeated in his head—and right in front of him too! it was as if he was wracking his brain to get an upper-hand, but the thought of losing to his brother once again plagued his mind.

he was mad; angry—all because of you—someone who raises his heartbeat in a way he despised. he normally wouldn’t feel so strong in a situation like this because as a perfectionist, he always gets what he wants.

until it came to you.

landing on the wrong foot, things were rocky and only got worse throughout time. the small compliments and helpful hand always seemed to turn for the worst—and then of course, you met his brother. one sentence and you were smitten, atsumu knew it. there was only one way to fix the issue, and he wasn’t going to miss the perfect chance.

“seriously miya,” his hand squeezed tight against your side as you attempted to pry it off, “what’s your endgame here?”

“’s cold.”

his words made little sense as his skin was much warmer than yours, the hot sensation of his breath sticking to the back of your neck as each second his body seemingly inched closer. wiggling your body against his, you tried once again to free yourself from his grasp. the comforter rubbing against the bed filled the silence as he continued to pull you close—refusing to let go.

flipping onto your back and still between his arms, a smug look filled his features as he peered down at you innocently, “it’s not ma’ fault theres only one bed.”

the low vibrations of his voice sent shivers down your spine as his hand let loose to rub against your thigh. the darkness of the room covering the tint against the tip of his ears, much to his liking.

pushing him away once against, he furrowed his eyebrows at your movements. though, his hand found home on you once again. and as if it was a game of cat and mouse, arms tangled between each other with a mixture of protests.

“could’ya just—“ his arm continued to fight against yours until he swiftly wrapped it around your waist, pulling you close against his chest, “just stop?”

“i fucking hate you,” your words shot into him, anger resurfacing within him once more as you continued throw insults, “havent you realize that?”

“ya don’t hate me.”

“i do.”

he pulled you closer, nose brushing against his without notice, “what do you want from me, miya?”

silence filled the room once again as you stayed tense in his arms, his eyes shaking slightly as if his brain was pacing for the perfect words—a perfect excuse—to use.

“i saw the way ya looked at ‘samu today.”

a dry laugh left your lips as your eyes rolled, jealousy was always the fort built in his words, his brother being the reoccurring victim of his insecurities, “all of this because of your fucking brother?”

“do ya like him?”

“more than you.”

you hated the way his furrowed eyebrows made your chest tighten. the unresolved feelings you’ve felt towards the man that held you close fighting against your urges to end the feud once and for all. the defeated look he showed was covered up quickly, the façade he wore was radiating determination, “then ya know what i want.”

“and what’s that?”

miya atsumu was tired of the game taking place in his heart, dipping down softly to place a sweet kiss against your lips. the lack of response concerned him until you pulled him back in hesitantly, asking for an answer with the way your arms wrapped around his neck, hands carding through his hair with a pull.

“to change that.”

rolling atop you and spreading your legs as if he’s done it a million times, his lips did not leave yours. the animalistic growl leaving his throat shocked you as he rubbed himself against your warmth in no time—like an animal in heat. the clothing separating you both becoming his worst enemy, that was, after you of course.

“all this because—“ your words were broken between his kisses, “your twin is better than you?”

“‘m better than him.”

“i bet he fucks better than you.”

“just another thing i’ll prove wrong,” his hands pulled your shirt off your body, taking his own in the process and relishing at the chance to touch your intimate skin against his, “he’s nothin’ compared to me.”

his hands roamed your body, unhooking the clasp on your back, mouth finding your tits instantly as your head fell back. the tugs in his hair had him grinding harder against you, the shaky breaths evident as your plump chest bobbed against his face.

sweat surfaced on his skin as the temperature of the room seemed to get higher, the grip on your hips surely to leave a bruise if he continues to hold you flushed against him.

his cocked jumped at the sound of his name leaving your lips in a moan, marks littering your chest as his mouth worked its was down to you center. the slur of your words were almost intoxicating as if his veins were filled with infinite adrenaline, salivating at the thought of how wet he’s made you with his tongue alone.

“may i, princess?” his hand rubbed against your folds through your shorts, the small whine leaving your lips as you arched your back was enough of an answer for him to discard of them immediately, leaving you completely bare under his touch.

“your brother would have had me cumming by now.”

he laughed lowly at your words to cover his irritation, tongue invading your slick as if he was feasting after weeks of starvation. the feeling of his groans worked perfectly against your clit as he circled, growing harder at your taste.

precum wet his sweats as he realized his imagination did you no justice, months of his secret yearning to be between your legs completely worth it as his digits found their way inside you, pushing you closer to that climax with the search of your sweet spot.

“is this it?” his voice was condescending as he watched your legs shake under the curl of his finger, navigating and memorizing every inch within you. you yelped slightly as he caressed you inside, a laugh leaving his lips, “there it is, baby.”

“i hate you.”

“sure ya do,” he began to suck harder against your bud, thighs clenching around his head as that climax approached, “cum for me, angel. ya got this.”

the approval was sexy; encouraging. the feeling of both his mouth and hand simultaneously fucking you was intense. it was delicate, yet rough. he wanted to give you the best experience—he wanted you to crawl back for more, “f-fuck! ‘tsumu!”

the gushing against his hands almost made him cum alone as his mouth cleaned the mess he created on your cunt. the stutter of his first name from your lips was hypnotizing as he began to test your limits on your sensitivity, licking your swollen bud and holding your body down with his arms.

the roll of your eyes—in a way that wasn’t annoyance—was ethereal. raised his body to roll his sweats to his knees, he couldn’t wait any longer. he looked prideful as your release painted his face sloppily, his hand slowly pumping his hard. coming down from your high, your eyes watched his as he smeared the cum on his tip a few times at the sight of your fucked-out look.

“what are you waiting for?”

“i am admirin’ the view.”

heat invaded your cheeks as his eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint. was it lust? similar, but not quite. it’s as if he had been anticipating this moment, eyes fucking you before he actually did.

pushing his tip against your clit, goosebumps caused his shoulders to jerk at the pleasure. your body twitched against him as if you were begging for him. slowly sliding his way inside you, his eyes clutching shut at the feeling of home within your walls. moving at a pace you didn’t agree with, he wanted to feel each detail of you before his inevitable corruption.

“please,” words finally slipped your mouth, his eyes opening at the pleads, “fuck me like you mean it, miya.”

his surname forced him to forget his needs as his hips snapped into you, stretching you against his length at an immeasurable speed as the slaps against your skin filled the room.

“back to miya, huh?”

the small smirk faded off his lips as your head fell back against the pillow, the raise of your legs to ease the position found their ways into his hands, his palms holding your knees back into the mattress to watch himself disappear inside of you thrust after thrust.

“yer so fucking pretty,” his words were broken, as if he was choking. all emotions leaving his face as he was too focused on the sight of you. the way your tits bounced, or the way your previous orgasm helped you fit him in perfectly, it was too delicious for him not to stop and take it in, “yer mine. all mine.”

“you wish.”

he changed his pace at your rejection, pulling out completely and slamming back into you to watch the curvature of your back pull up from the sheets. his arm wrapped under smoothly to repeat the motion. the way your jaw slacked open completely caused his demeanor to change back, an irritated smile filling his lips at your submissive state when you were the opposite moments prior.

“don’t lie to ya’self, baby,” the cock of his head would have made you roll your eyes if his actual cock wasn’t already forcing you to do so, “say yer mine.”

“over my dead body.”

“the way ya going limp on my dick right now, you kind of resemble one.” he joked, rubbing his thumb on the forming bruise he held you at minutes before.

“fuck,” you moaned your words, “fuck you.”

“that you are.”

his hair stuck to his forehead as looked up at the ceiling, relaxing his neck. hands loosening up on you as his body was slowly giving up at the orgasm he was pursuing. stars swarmed his vision as he picked up his pace slowly, yet sloppy.

he was cute, you admitted. as if he was lovestruck, even though you constantly pushed his egotistical words away for months on end. his breath shook while his legs gave out, pushing his chest into yours as his eyes latched onto you.

“so beautiful,” he whispered against your skin, “so, so beautiful.“

“cum in me, ‘tsumu.”

widening his eyes at your command, his forehead pushed against yours as he continued to push through. an ungodly noise left his body, but was quickly muffled as you pulled him in for a kiss, lips clumsily working against each other as his thrust became weaker, your body clenching against his to milk every drop out of him as he filled you completely.

disconnecting his body from yours, he collapsed next to you. your inhales syncing up as he pulled you close like before, except this time you didn’t pull away.

sweat covered his body but you paid no mind as yours did too, the sexual pheromones turning into nothing but an unspoken love being acknowledged; one that was present for days on end but never talked of.

sleeping with atsumu invaded your schedule, and fucking him was the result. although you seemed relatively busy, you weren’t exactly against clearing up time to make the night become a habit. maybe having benefits with a perfectionist would end up being more beneficial to you in the end, but was it really benefits? or was it something more?

“get outta ya head,” he mumbled against your neck, “and just stay here with me.”

“ok, miya.”

“keep callin’ me that and i’ll make ya a miya,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly, “that way ya cant call me that anymore.”

“like… marriage?”

“how else, dummy.”

“i guess marrying your brother wouldn’t be that bad.”

his voice was grumpy as he pulled you closer to his chest, leaving a small kiss on your neck, “brother? i don’t got one.”

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