moonshinestarcupcake

Latest Posts by moonshinestarcupcake

Intimacy.

Squishy and subtle intimacy, not the boisterous kind. The gentleness of whispering in the night, pressing on your laughter in a futile attempt to stay quiet. Sounds of shushing, lit eyes filled with all the sparkle in the universe. Feather-soft chuckles. Tender and tranquil intimacy. Arms wrapped around the waist, tickles and soft breaths like the summer breeze. Pepper-light kisses, of whatever kind of love along with a sweet ever-lasting gentleness. Secret signs, inside jokes, hidden conversation with a contagious effect. The intimacy of knowing that someone loves you just as you do, of having flowers bloom in your heart just by seeing them. The intimacy of being enveloped in such a stupendous amount of warmth, that your heart is left in nothing but a fuzzy pool of honeyed liquid, *absolutely melted*. So much so, that you feel like you're nothing but a clueless marshmallow, floating so peacefully on the top of the biggest, hottest, loveliest cup of hot-chocolate ever. The intimacy of someone speaking for you, sharing your preferences before you could even ask for it or correct someone. The saccharine feeling of the sun on your back on a mildly-cold morning, the scent of flowers tangling with the flowers in your own chest. Tingling, glowing, weaving, creating~ You know that it's the right kind of intimacy, that you're truly being loved, when your emotions get so candied, that they start dripping, radiating joy, enough to bring about a sugar-rush. You know that you've truly accepted others' care and gentleness, when the cuteness aggression truly gets to you. And, you're left speechless, in the best way possible.

“You can bomb the world into pieces, but you can’t bomb it into peace.” – Michael Franti

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Wistfulness.

Isn't it like so ironical, how we hurt someone at first without any intention to, just because we want to live better. But then, their absence deters your life from the "live better" path. All you can do is look at them from a distance, while they're laughing, making the jokes they once made with you, smiling that absolutely beloved smile, the same smile that falters when you come closer. How could you say that you don't love them? When you're out here, looking at every unconscious action of theirs: head shakes, leaning backwards slightly, posture, jumping down, walking in a particular pattern, absolutely absolutely honey-melted smiles (which no longer belong to you). You long for all that comfort, all those smiles, all that happiness to be directed at you again, because tell me, it did leave a gaping hole right in the center of your heart when they finally went away, didn't it? A void which I suppose cannot be filled with anything except their love all over again, but you cover it. With the little of conscience you have left, how could you long for them? You were the one who hurt them in the first place, then how could you, in all your selfishness, look at them so wistfully. You don't deserve it, do you? You don't deserve the pureness and sweet bliss of their soul again, even with its faults and twistedness. Why do you so desperately want to redo everything, do it differently, do it softly WHEN you said that your choice was "thought of", to do it the way you did, with no possible explanation; is it because you want the life you had before, or do you want them back? You wonder if it's the whispers of those around you leading you into this spiral, or your own guilt and love, but it doesn't change the fact that you've fallen, you supposed "angel". You were never a saintess, you are so much worse and with time, when you look in the mirror again, all you can see is what you were running from: A twisted, yearnful, yet so so hurt woman, who's irrevocably lonely. Always, always, ALWAYS.

EXTRACT FROM CRYBABY (og book written by me) ;3 You smell like the dew and sunshine all together. You feel like the softest, most huggable cotton candy, in all its sweetness. You're wet lush grass, so so welcoming, I might just lay down and never get up again. You breathe like wisps of smoke in the air, and threads of night with stars scattered. You taste like love, like devotion, like ambrosia, you taste like you're mine and like I'm irrevocably yours. You are cosmic radiance, you're the sun to my moon. You are so beautifully true, you are just, SO YOU. [The book is yet to be published :p. A teen with a lot of stress is doing her best anyways.]

Kafka, this drives me crazy wth bro, please don't set false standards T-T god, men like this don't exist anymore, this pmo, I'm gonna cry. [As a sidenote, this is one of my favorites from 'Letters to Milena'. Franz Kafka, the man you were. He deserves the biggest, warmest hug ever.]

;p

This reminds me of when I wrote a poem about yearning: The yearning to be someone's yearning, and the yearning of a poetess to be someone's poem <3

why's this so duckin ADORABLE????? I'm getting cuteness aggression~

[Edit: have you seen his eyelashes?]

not me with Sukunaaaaaa

I did it for the kitty :3

This made my heart all fuzzy

in which: bakugou only shows his dimples around you

sfw, fluff, dialogue heavy, humour, this is a quick drabble i whipped up from an idea i created ages ago bc my 8k word bkg fic WON'T POST AGHHH!

"i love dimples, they're so cute!" mina squeals from beside you whilst you were hunched over the dorm's coffee table, finishing outstanding calculus questions you hadn't completed during class.

"me too," you absentmindedly murmur, reaching for your calculator to input a definite integral. "people say that they are kisses from angels, as if that isn't the cutest thing ever."

the pink-haired wails, "stop it! i wish i had dimples."

"if you try hard enough, then maybe," you snort before turning the page of your maths textbook. "i remember people would press pencils to their cheeks to make it appear. it would work for like five minutes."

"well, duh they're not gonna be permanent, i'm not that stupid."

"you always ask me what two plus five is."

"uncalled for, that's not the same!" mina slaps the back of your head, causing you to hold it whilst hissing in pain.

"okay, i'm sorry!" you exclaim, shielding yourself in case she hits you again.

thankfully, mina is pacified again, returning her chin to her palm as she fiddles with her nails. she remains quiet for a few minutes, allowing you to concentrate on your work before she pipes up again. "jirou has cute dimples."

you hum in agreement. "yaomomo too, on both cheeks," you add.

"kaminari too!"

"and bakugou."

mina darts up, back now as straight as a pole as she gawks at you with the weirdest expression. did you grow two heads or something? what was so weird about bakugou having dimples?

"no he does not!" counters mina.

"he does! on his right cheek!" you even point to it for good measure. "surprised me too when i saw it for the first time but it's actually really prominent! i don't know how we never noticed it before."

"you're lying to me. bakugou katsuki could never have dimples, he's too evil for that."

"he's not that evil."

"are we talking to the same bakugou? he threatened to blow me up the other day."

you laugh at the memory, an action mina doesn't appreciate. "i was there for that. anyways. his dimple is just something he's born with, it's not ordained by personality, what's the big deal?"

"what part of bakugou being too evil to have something as pure as a dimple do you not understand?"

your homework now lays unfinished and forgotten as you begin having a quarrel about your classmate and the mystery surrounding a feature that was given to him from birth. the blond shows it quite often, how come mina's not seeing it?

she then begins pulling up numerous photos and selfies; none of which have the evidence of bakugou's dimples. you furrow your brows in confusion, swiping through and zooming in to no avail of finding any remnants of a dimple.

strange.

you know you can't be imagining this.

"yo mina, y/n!" a deep, raspy voice comes from the entrance of the common room. you both turn around in shock to see your fellow red-haired classmate approaching.

immediately, you turn off mina's photo to rid any evidence of your previous conversation. because wherever kirishima is, bakugou normally follows.

"i'm gonna kick your ass in mario kart!" comes an explosive voice from behind. there he was.

kirishima leans over the couch where mina was sitting on. "what are you both up to?"

"oh y/n and i were just chilling. why?"

"oh bakugou and i just wanted to play a round of mario kart, that's all! hope we're not bothering you."

you pipe up from where you were still trying to figure out maths equations, "mina talks my ear off whilst i'm trying to solve these questions. i think i'll be okay with you two."

before mina could slap the back of your head again, a shadow looms your textbook and tufts of blond hair appear in the corner of your eye.

"you got that wrong," bakugou says after not even two seconds of reading your equation.

"eyes off my book," you exclaim, about to cover the pages with your hands when the explosion-quirk user snatches it away from under you. he continues reading through it like it was some newspaper article.

he does this all with a proud smirk on his face. "question 2 wrong, question 7 wrong, question 15 wrong," rambles your classmate, ignoring the way you were demanding it back.

"i'm going to fuck you up. give me back my book."

"damn your handwriting is messy."

your punch his arm lightly. he laughs at the impact, uneffected. "yours is illegible!" you shout back, challenging him with a nasty glare.

mina and kirishima watch with amused expressions at the disputation occurring in front of them. however, the pink-haired feels the world stop for a moment when she notices something very interesting.

a dimple. on bakugou's right cheek. just like you said.

something she has never seen before.

then she notices the way he looks at you. despite teasing you and making fun of you, there's an undeniable look of fondness evident in his eyes, one that grows the more you threaten him with unspeakable acts of violence.

his smirk grows softer, becoming that of a lopsided grin when bakugou gives you your textbook, confessing that none of the questions were wrong and that he was just 'messin' around'.

as it turns out... bakugou katsuki does have dimples, but they only appear around you.