MC: Mr.Beelzebub, Can You Please Point Out & Tell The Court Who Was It That Called You-

MC: Mr.Beelzebub, can you please point out & tell the court who was it that called you-

MC (wiping a tear away): 'a bad demon'

Beel (sniffling & pointing to Lucifer): It was him!

[Gasping in the room & Simeon faints]

Diavolo (eating popcorn on the judges bench): His own brother!?

Barbatos: Young master,you have to remain neutral

Diavolo: Right

Lucifer: He ate our entire week's groceries in just a day!

MC: Maybe! But to say such nasty impactful comments!? Cruelty I say!

Lucifer: And I'd say it again!

Beel: (sad whimper)

Diavolo (strikes gavel): I've seen enough! Lucifer you're sentenced to 3 hours time out! Go to the corner of shame!

Diavolo (whispering): Also you have to come to my sleep over this Saturday

Lucifer: What!?

MC (blowing kisses): Thank you judge diavolo~

Diavolo (grabbing the kisses & patting them to his cheek): No thank you, my little lamb ♡

Lucifer: This court is corrupt

It has been brought to my attention that I am way too fruity for this world of vegetables

imagine silently vibing in the kitchen with katsuki bakugou.

you help yourself up into the counter, dressed in nothing but his shirt (haphazardly thrown on after spending all day kissing and getting nasty in bed) and a pair of fuzzy socks because he’d told you the apartment was cold since he runs warm and you need to keep your feet warm.

the kettle rumbles loud and proud beside you while katsuki gets the mugs from the top shelf. you’d made them together on your sixth or seventh date — a pottery painting class. bakugou’s is a creamy shade of Orange, like the sun setting outside the kitchen window, warm on your back. and yours is a soft pink, like the blush that dusts his cheeks from being caught staring. staring at you.

you let him make you some kind of herbal tea. watching bakugou grab the tea bags from another cupboard. this time, you’re the one staring, eyes caught on the motion of his back muscles rippling before cascading down to his unfairly slender waist, his grey sweat pants that hang a little too low on his itty bitty hips, and the rough textured skin on his side. the battle scar you love so much.

“what flavour?”

you hear him mumble, your gaze that was once tethered to the eighth wonder of the world (his phenomenally beautiful body) shoots up to bakugou’s face. a lazy smirk lies on the plump edge of his lips and compliments the his chiselled features illuminated by golden hour outside. you see the sun reflect off the brownish flecks to his gorgeous ruby eyes and the soft tint of blonde to his hair (you make a mental note to thank mitsuki for this later), before mirroring his smile.

“peach.”

to people on the outside of your lovey little bubble — there’s nothing significant about your choice of tea. but to you and katsuki, you know that it’s the same flavour as the lip glaze you wore on the night he first kissed you. it’s the scent of your body wash, the one that you leave at his place because you know that bakugou adores peaches on you. peaches, like the fruits you cut up for him whenever you’re able to join him for lunch at the agency, swiping your thumb over his chin as the juices run down it — sucking it off with an affectionate laugh.

“sweet,” bakugou hums into the quiet ambience of the kitchen. “just like you.”

his hands, though capable of intangible levels of distraction, work delicately and quickly to brew you the perfect cup of peach herbal tea. before you can even ask, he sweetens your cup with a tea spoon of brown sugar and a dash of golden honey — pushing it towards you gently. with a loving whispered reminder. ‘careful, it’s hot.’

katsuki waits for you to take a sip before he does the same with his own. he won’t admit to how cute you look on his counter, in his apartment, in his clothes with his marks on your neck, glittering under the setting sun. his bare feet pad on the vinyl flooring as he crosses the kitchen to meet you and his chest bristles with happiness when your legs part to make room for him.

“good?”

“always,” you chirp, looking up at kastuki through your lashes with your big bambi eyes. “i love you.”

katsuki looks taken aback but quickly recovers, rubbing his cheek on his bare shoulder as if to rid himself of the heat rising underneath its skin.

“love you even more. now drink up b’fore it gets cold.” he says gruffly but he’s lovesick all the same. you think that bakugou is so cute, you might implode.

and there you are, vibing out in the quietness of his kitchen — clinking your misshapen mugs together and drinking tea, letting the world go by as if you’re the only two people in it.

thinking about fucking fictional men is the only thing getting me through this week and that’s okay.

he's just babygirl

I love how Scott cannot lie for more than like 30 seconds before admitting it.

I don’t care if it’s health issues or production issues — Horikoshi and the MHA team are clearly overwhelmed and not in a good place, so let them get some damn rest already. A hiatus during the final act is FINE, especially if it means the long-term health of the guy who has it all on his shoulders. There’s ways to get fresh “official” material to fans: The anime can do some OVAs or voice actor skits; TUM and the light novels can get more hype; other artists can pitch in sketches.

Let Horikoshi say farewell to his beloved characters the way he wants, with enough joy to spare that he pursues more art in the future.