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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

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He Likes Bugs!!

Shinsou Hitoshi x reader, fluff, sfw, word count 885

Pink juice ran down the lines of your palms from the sweet peach in your hand. You sucked on your teeth, picking out the stringy pieces of fruit stuck in between.

It was a quiet morning in the garden. The neighbors' kids were still asleep, and only the best singing birds sung at this time. You sat on a cobblestone stair, peacefully watching the hummingbirds feed from your red zinnias.

A light weight dropped onto your left shoulder, soft tufts of hair brushing your neck. You peered to your side to see Shinsou's purple hair resting on you.

"Good morning," you cooed.

"Morning."

He had just woken up, and was still in his pajamas: a loose, black shirt that exposed his collar bone and baggy sweatpants that matched the color of his hair. Shinsou yawned, covering his mouth with his free hand, his other holding an ivory Hercules beetle.

Curiously, you watched the insect as it slowly crawled along his knuckles. Shinsou noticed you staring and held the beetle closer between the two of you.

You bit off a tiny chunk of your peach and laid it on Shinsou's palm. The beetle turned its body to nibble on the sweet piece of fruit.

"I guess he's still hungry after I fed him this morning," said Shinsou.

"Or maybe he likes peaches a lot," you giggled.

"Can I have a bite?"

You held the peach to Shinsou's lips. He leaned closer to your hand and bit into it, chewing slowly with thought.

"That's from the garden?"

"Yeah, the tree right there." You pointed to the peach tree that mothered the delicious fruit.

"Can't believe you grew this. It's so good."

"Thanks, it only took four years."

A familiar feeling ran through your skin as Shinsou held your fingers in his. Gently fiddling with the base of your index and middle fingers, then intertwining his own with yours.

Even after dating for many months, these small actions never failed to make you blush. It was adorable.

"Do you want to hold Kumo?"

"May I?"

He opened your hand, picking up the beetle from his palm and placing it in your left. You felt its legs explore your hand, traveling across each finger just as Shinsou did.

"Did you know Hercules Beetles can carry up to eight hundred and fifty times their own body weight?" He watched Kumo explore your wrist where the peach juice had dried.

"Eight hundred fifty?" you repeated in awe.

"Yeah. Pretty cool, right?"

"Super cool."

Your gaze filled with both respect and admiration followed Kumo. The insect stopped, finally settling down just over your pulse.

You began to laugh, "He kinda tickles."

"I didn't know you were ticklish."

Your eyes widened upon noticing Shinsou's mischievous smile. "Don't! I know what you're thinking!"

Shinsou's hands ran across your stomach, just lightly touching you along the fabric of your thin shirt. That was enough to make you shake with laughter. Your feeble attempts to stop him only made him tickle you harder.

"Hitoshi! W-wait—I'm gonna drop Kumo!" you managed to communicate between side-splitting laughs. Subconsciously, you were able to hold your left arm up away from harm during Shinsou's attack.

"Fine. I'll take him back if you want."

You hummed and allowed the beetle to crawl back to its owner's grasp. There was a tranquil silence as Shinsou lightly stroked his pet's back with his knuckle.

Since the beginning of your relationship, Shinsou had always been considerably shy: about his emotions, his interests, everything. He never spoke much about himself or what he liked, but rather held onto conversations about you, desperately trying to extend them as long as possible to avoid the subject that was "Shinsou Hitoshi".

Until three months later; and he found himself growing more and more comfortable around you was when he finally opened up. Everything he had bottled up finally came rushing out. The dam was broken.

One of his hidden interests was bugs. He loved bugs: grasshoppers, beetles, bees, cicadas, moths. All except mosquitos.

Hitoshi could not stand mosquitos.

But that was besides the point. His love for insects was one that caught you by surprise. You weren't especially fond of the occasional spiders that appeared on the bathroom ceilings; however, Shinsou helped you learn to tolerate them.

Now, (depending on the insect) you actually enjoyed their company. Beetles, cicadas, bees, and moths especially. In fact, Shinsou's most prized pets were his Luna moths. The adults, as beautiful as they were, only lived for a little longer than a week, so he kept an insect house where he raised them.

The reason he treasured them so much was because you did. They were the first insects that you learned to love.

Though his love for these bugs was so great, he often eluded the topic in the company of others. He often found that he'd over-share: the majority of people weren't too impressed by the fact that Praying Mantises were cannibalistic.

Once again you felt his soft hair tickle your neck as he buried his face into your shoulder. You leaned into him in response.

He breathed deeply, his warm breath cascading over your skin. Bringing his cupped hand closer to your face, he said, "I think Kumo really likes you."

You smiled. "I think he does, too."

#shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #shinso hitoshi #mha #my hero academia #mha x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #sfw #fluff #comfort #gender neutral reader #self insert #oneshots #writings tingz

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

Lightning Rod

Kaminari Denki, Jirou Kyoka, self insert, sfw, word count 1,283

"Grab my hand!" you shouted over the roaring rain, your shoes slowly slipping on the metal bar beneath your feet.

Kaminari seized your wet hand and hauled himself up the radio tower. "I'm good!"

A flash of lightning branched across the sky, and a crash of thunder followed less than a second after. You shivered, teeth chattering from the cold rain pounding on your back.

"Don't die!" Jirou cupped her hands around her mouth as she cautioned from seventy feet below.

"WHAT? WE CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Kaminari screamed back as he held onto the tower's supports.

Jirou pointed to her ears, an inaudible message intercepted by the blaring storm.

You felt your feet slip on the thin bar and grasped Kaminari's hand for dear life. "HELP!"

"I GOT YOU! HOLD ON!"

Only a couple hours ago, you, Jirou, and Kaminari were warm, dry, and safe in the shelter of the U.A. dorms. It was nine o'clock at night, and the four of you were spending your time in the kitchen.

"The rain's really coming down now, isn't it," observed Jirou, her hand in her palm as she gazed out the crying windows.

You and Kaminari tore your attention away from the bowl of melted marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate in front of you to observe the storm.

A deafening bellow of thunder echoed through the dorms, and that brought you an idea.

"Hey Denki," you muttered, your eyes still glued to the glass.

Kaminari mashed a sticky handful of your s'more concoction into his mouth. "Yeh?"

"Hypothetically, what would happen if you were struck by lightning?"

"No idea," he paused, chewing on the sugary mix of ingredients in his mouth, "let's find out!"

The rain continued to whip your numb face, and you could feel your hand begin to slip.

Kaminari leaned over the bar he held onto, using all of his strength to pull you up. "ALMOST—GOT IT!"

You found a support and latched on, panting heavily once you stabilized yourself. "THANKS, MAN—I THOUGHT I WAS DEAD!"

"ME TOO, HONESTLY!"

Then, in the blink of an eye, a blinding flash stunned your vision. Your ears split from the deafening crash, but you managed to maintain your grip on the cold metal.

"DENKI! DENKI, ARE YOU OKAY!" You hurried to the boy who sat on a platform near the top of the tower.

The tips of his hair were floating upwards, and he appeared unconscious. Before you could begin CPR, he sprang upwards with a violent shiver.

Kaminari blinked at you with a blank expression. His lips slowly curling into a wide grin, and he began to giggle with excitement.

"Denki? You good?" You reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but a painfully strong shock registered through your entire body upon contact.

He peered up at you with an unreadable smile still shaking with laughter. Afraid, your eyes widened and you cautiously backed away from your friend.

"What's going on?" Jirou's voice faintly called from ground level.

"No idea! He's acting really weird!"

"Ohoho boy!" Kaminari picked himself up, rubbing his hands together mischievously.

"Oh no."

"OH YES!" He rose two fingers in the air, and a grand bolt of lightning struck his hand. Sparks of electricity danced around his body, bouncing off his clothes and throughout the radio tower.

The electric current traveled through the metal and ended up shocking you. "DENKI! CAREFUL!" You decided it would be safest to evacuate the tower; subsequently, you used your quirk to slow your descent.

"WATCH THIS!" he thundered through the violent night.

You had just landed, and Jirou was oblivious to anything that had happened at the top of the tower since she was on ground patrol. You both exchanged a frightened look.

Suddenly, several strikes of lightning zapped across the lawn in front of the dorms, charring any living grass in its target radius.

"KAMINARI! YOU SHOULD GET DOWN NOW!" barked Jirou, you nodding in agreement.

"I'M NEVER COMING DOWN!" he screamed back before drawing what seemed to be a penis in the front lawn.

You stifled a laugh, well aware that it was a serious matter—and your friend was putting himself and others in danger; however, it was amusing that this was how he would use his enhanced powers. It was both the expected and unexpected.

A loud crash resonated through the air. You and Jirou looked up to see the school's power generator billowing with smoke. You watched in pure horror as every single light in UA's campus died out simultaneously.

"DENKI! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!"

Kaminari gave no reasonable answer but only cackled from his high throne.

"WHAT DO WE DO?" you turned to Jirou for help.

"I-I DON'T KNOW! TRY TO FIX IT!" she stammered, her hands holding the sides of her head.

"NO! YOU'LL END UP ELECTROCUTING YOURSELF!"

"WELL IF I DON'T, HE WILL!"

"Fair point."

The faintest outline of a black silhouette caught your attention near the radio tower's base. You both had to squint to fully make it out.

"What's going on?" a groggy voice rasped, watching as Kaminari burned cartoonish drawings of genitalia into the grass.

"Aizawa-sensei!" Jirou straightened herself and stood at attention like a solider.

"Denki's outta control!" you panicked in the rain, frantically pointing to the top of the radio tower where your friend stood.

Aizawa finally disclosed Kaminari's power trip, leaving the boy with a sour taste of disappointment. Mere seconds later, he was on the ground, wrapped in the disappointed teacher's scarves.

"Hey! Let me go!" Kaminari squirmed in his bindings, eager to inflict more damage to UA property.

Aizawa was fully awake now as he tied his wet hair into a loose ponytail, wringing out the rain water it collected. "Explain."

It was brutal. Sitting in front of your pre-irritated teacher, dripping with cold water as you confessed your blatant mistakes; additionally, it was 11 PM on a Monday night. A puddle of rain water had formed around your feet on the common room's wooden flooring.

Aizawa finally heaved an extended sigh. It was so long, you were surprised by his extraordinary lung capacity.

"First, I would have had you expelled, but it's too much paperwork." He rubbed his wet face with his hand that wasn't any dryer.

You, Jirou, and Kaminari exchanged an anticipating look.

"Second, the repairs for the generator will be coming out of your pockets—but I doubt you three have the money to cover it all—so you'll be on cleaning duty for the rest of the year."

Ouch.

"Third, if I ever catch you three doing something like this again," he breathed through his teeth, "I'll have some paperwork to do."

You heard Jirou gulp.

"Now go to sleep so you can take the trash out tomorrow morning before class." The exhausted man stood up and exited the building without another word. As soon as you each heard the door shut, words spilled out of your mouths like a jumbled Scrabble board.

"I can't believe we're not dead!" you exclaimed a little too loud.

"Shhh! Everyone's asleep!" Jirou slapped her hand over your mouth.

Kaminari rocked in place, his weight shifting from the balls of his feet to his heels. He was very embarrassed, but the extreme surge of power had caused him to short-circuit, so he was not entirely conscious in the moment.

There was a long silence that resonated through the UA dorms.

"I call sweeping and wiping down the counters," you whispered, facing forwards as if Aizawa were still reprimanding you three.

"I call dishes and reorganizing," responded Jirou with a stiff expression.

"That leaves trash duty."

"Kaminari'll take it."

"Perfect."

#unedited #the writings not very good i just spit some words out #kaminari denki #jirou kyoka #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari x reader #jirou x reader #jirou kyoka x reader #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #self insert #gender neutral reader #writings tingz

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

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Preen Em

Hawks x reader, sfw, word count 542

"The pet store!" you gasped with a gleam of excitement in your eyes.

Without a second to react, Keigo felt a tug at his wrist guiding him towards the shop's entrance. It was a humble store just beside the city's bustling street. Puppies, bunnies, birds, and lizards played within their compartments, occasionally letting out a squeak or bark.

Your legs moved on their own, swiftly maneuvering from aisle to aisle to fawn over every animal. As you stared at a large tub of koi fish near the middle of the store, you finally realized Keigo's absence.

The store wasn't too busy: about four or five other customers inside, but it had every pet you could possibly fathom.

It was difficult to find him, for every cage, tank, and glass you passed had captured your attention for at least a minute each.

Who knew rats could be so cute?

A flash of vermillion red pried you away from the rodents, and you finally made your way behind an aisle dedicated to bird care.

Keigo hadn't detected your presence yet. His eyes were wide, eyebrows raised attentively as he watched the parakeet in front of him preen its vivid feathers. His face was only a couple inches from the glass.

The parakeet's beak shuffled through its wings, rearranging feathers and fluffing them out as it did. You watched closely, quietly as Keigo subtly mimicked its movements, ruffling his own feathers as the parakeet did.

His wings were much grander than the bird's, so he didn't take the risk to open them to their entirety inside the store. Instead, he carefully opened his left and picked at the red feathers with his fingers to make up for his lack of beak.

Then, he worked on his right wing whilst glancing between the parakeet's natural antics and his own dubious attempts.

Keigo finished his first ever preening session and rolled his shoulders back, appearing somewhat satisfied with his newest accomplishment. As a final act, he ruffled his extravagant feathers, allowing them to close in a resting state against his back.

His eyes drifted up to your prying gaze from around the corner. Conscious of the last seven minutes he spent preening, you guiltily shuffled out from behind the aisle.

"Were you watching?" His voice was gruff but not upset.

You nodded. A quiet hum ending in an ascending tone was your timid response.

This was one of those moments where Keigo attempted to hide his embarrassment—which he did quite well—but knowing him for so long, you were able to read his subtle mannerisms: his fingers tugging at the sides of his pants, his brows falling ever so slightly, the ends of his lips just barely stretching back.

"I thought it was neat."

You began towards him at a slow pace with your hands behind your back.

"I think it's cool. The little things you share with birds... It's cute."

Keigo rose a brow at the end of your sentence.

"Cute?"

You beamed a smile so sweet, it reached your eyes and made your ears perk up.

"Yeah. Cute."

His expression barely lifted, but his body language shamelessly revealed his flustered state.

"Now let's go get food. Seeing those goldfish made me hungry."

"Yeah... Wait, what?"

#hawks x reader #hawks #keigo takami #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #sfw #gender neutral reader #writing tingz #i love pet stores

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

Strawberry Blossoms

Tamaki Amajiki x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 383

An abundance of white paper petals peppered Tamaki’s hair. The flowers were tiny, but they grew at a quick pace within the tangled fluff on his head. Within each strawberry blossom is a warm, yellow center: the baby of a sweet berry.

You pull Tamaki’s hand from his lap, holding it above your crossed legs as you face his palm to the sky. Tamaki stares at you, admiring, observing your light index finger that traces along the creases of his palms.

A bundle of blossoms bloom within those traced lines. Red faced and embarrassed, Tamaki turns his head to the side opposite of where you sat. You smile ever so tenderly, and carefully pluck a single flower from his skin. Tamaki’s entire body flinches in response.

“I’m sorry! Did that hurt?” you sputter, now holding both of his flowery hands in your own.

The poor boy could not bear to meet your beautifully worried eyes; instead, he shakes his head. A notion so gentle and timid it puts a lamb to shame.

“Do you want another strawberry?” You move the basket in between the two of you. “There’s a few left.”

Tamaki finally turns back to you, yet his gaze lingers too low. It was the best he could do for now, and you’re grateful.

You hold the strawberry to his mouth, its pink and white skin just barely kissing the base of his lip. He leans forwards just a bit, adjusting his teeth around the tip of the fruit in your hand. You hold it by the leaves at the top, and Tamaki pushes his teeth through, eyes strung together the entire time. A string of juice dripped from the border of his bottom lip and down your fingers.

A new patch of blossoms spring from the back of his wrists, running along his knuckles and forearms. Each seed was responsible for another flower.

You pull his tense hand to your lap again, your eyes wide with wonder and admiration.

“God, you’re amazing.”

Tamaki shrinks back, his face buried in his own shoulder. A fresh breeze puffed his midnight blue bangs into his face, and you lift your hand to tuck the loose strands behind his ear.

“Thanks,” he mumbles only for his words to be swept away by the swaying trees.

- - - - - - - -

A/N: just a little drabble i did while listening to the steven universe soundtrack. want to write more but everything’s been so busy lately. still have to make a masterlist eughegeha

#reblogs are appreciated #tamaki #tamaki amajiki #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #gender neutral reader #sfw #fluff #strawberries #i love strawberries #oh my god they're amazing in every single aspect #amajiki x reader

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

Grounded

Hawks x reader, sfw, light fluff, word count 2,471

An exasperated hand dragged down Keigo’s face. The ticking of his hospital room’s clock had become his heartbeat. Its incessant clicks made Keigo want to pull his feathers out, but he refrained from doing so: it had taken longer than usual for his wings to grow back after a draining battle four months ago. Every week since, a required checkup occupied his rather empty schedule.

The doctor advised him not to fly for a while. Keigo could not be any more upset.

A swinging door captured his attention. Though it was rare for something of his genuine interest to occur in this godforsaken building, he still turned to the noise desperate for something new—something to stir up the hospital air in his lungs.

“Hawks, I’m delighted to inform that you’ll be flying again soon,” a taller man announced, skipping all formalities. His pristine tailcoats flowed behind him with his strides, and his preoccupation was apparent. “With the help of our winged physical therapist”—Keigo’s eyes followed the figure sliding out from behind the doctor—“you should be good to go in two to three weeks depending on how the sessions go.”

You stepped beside the doctor, raising your arm halfway in a subtle greeting. Hawks did the same.

His prayers had been answered.

• • •

A stale bitterness clung to Keigo’s clothes; to his hair; to his skin. He smelled like hospital. It was the indignant reminder of defeat that he ever so hated.

Your words floated in one ear and out the other as you led him through a series of stretches: left wing, right wing, forward, back. Despite only giving a third of his attention, Keigo followed your movements. He thinks you’re satisfied with his half-assed participation.

You lean forwards to peer over your side, Keigo’s left wing open and stiff as he stands absentmindedly in the garden. “Is it too painful? If it is we can change up the routine.”

Your voice snapped something in his body. He twisted his head to you. “It’s fine.”

You mumble “oh ok”, quiet and a bit puzzled. An unannounced draft shoves the amber maples. It catches the face of Keigo’s wing and he stumbles off balance. You immediately reach out to him, your fingertips just barely skimming his shirt as he finds his gravity. It was difficult to read his tented brows—his squinted eyes and down curving lips.

Did you do something wrong?

The next day, you started with the same warm up: wing stretches and breathing exercises. Keigo wondered why it was all necessary. Again, he found himself cloud gazing when you tugged at his attention.

“Try to really feel it right here. It should stretch the muscles along your upper back,” you say, dragging a light hand across the shoulder of his wing. Hawks shivered under your fingers, and his vermillion feathers ruffled tensely. His eyes jolted to your hand, then immediately back to the sky.

He’s embarrassed. You didn’t seem to notice.

“Perfect! Just like that,” you praised.

Sessions continued, but progress was unusually slow. Still, you were patient. Very, very patient. He felt undeserving of such kindness—of such care. Physical therapy was a bundle of perplexities Keigo could not unravel.

Today, you appeared noticeably more tired than the former. Your hair quite a bit messier, the bags beneath your eyes a tinge darker, and your voice held a faint rasp only Hawks could notice.

He follows a step behind through the East corridor to the garden exit. You stopped at the doors. Hawks did as well, waiting for you to open them.

But you didn’t.

He took a long step forwards, leaning in to steal a glimpse of your face. You meet his prodding eyes, and he twitches back.

“Sorry. I zoned out for a sec,” you laugh, carrying on to your path in the garden square.

Today, you guide him through the basic movements: flapping, gliding, turning (none of which are done in the air). You occupy your usual spot in the neatly mowed lawn, simply walking through each movement to regain the muscle memory.

It’s frustrating for Keigo, though. His wings feel awkward, inelegant, uncoordinated, yet still does your patience maintain through your exhausted state. You give him advice, he takes it. You readjust his wings, repositioning certain joints or pushing his shoulders back. Keigo complies—begrudgingly, but he does.

The intensity of his frustration seethed through his veins. He hates that you have to see him like this: incapable, pathetic. Hawks knows he’s stronger than this—he’s the number two hero for Christ's sake—but he appears so weak in front of you.

Yet somehow, your benignity radiates even through your fatigue, and it bemuses the man. How could a person be so selfless, so tolerant with a burden like him? He expected some form of discipline when he failed whether it was yelling, cursing, or hitting, but he was surprised when it never came. Your equanimity was foreign to him.

“Hawks!” you almost shouted.

His head snaps upwards off the grass as he met your stern gaze.

“Are you alright? You keep losing yourself,” you express with a concerned frown. “We can take a break if you’d like.”

Hawks declines adamantly. Only now does he notice your hand resting upon his shoulder. You acknowledge his decision, and with two light pats on his back, you continue the exercises.

That night he arrived home, he kicked off his boots at the entrance, looked at his living room couch, and sighed. Instead of immediately collapsing on the plush cushions, he found himself searching for any sliver of open space in his apartment.

For the very first time, he actually did the exercises you assigned.

• • •

“Hey! You eat lunch already?”

Keigo peered up from the hospital’s waiting room chairs. He couldn’t help the growing smile tugging at his lips.

You were back to your normal self.

Hawks replied, briefly summarizing what he ate as he stood up and matched your pace. There was an extra skip to his step that didn’t go unnoticed to you.

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” you chuckle.

He pushes your comment aside, saying he woke up on the right side of the bed this morning.

Your mini duffel bag slid off your shoulder and onto the grass. Hawks has already begun the warmup stretches, and you join in. His right wing shoots open to press against your face, squishing your cheek and causing you to lose focus.

“Ha ha, very funny,” you quip, lightly pushing his wing aside with your own.

“My bad. I’m still getting a hang of it, you know.” There was an extra bite to Hawks’s words.

You roll your shoulders back, stretching your wings to their entirety before closing them once again. “Actually, I was thinking that you’re pretty much ready to try flying again.”

Excitement bubbled in Keigo’s chest, and he waited for you to continue.

“I’ll help you with the takeoff and we’ll try gliding—see how you feel,” you say. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

And Keigo seemed to take those last words to heart because neither of you could distinguish if he meant “I’d love that” to your first or second sentence.

You guide him through the steps, positioning his wings one more time in the correct starting position. Despite Hawks retaining the majority of his muscle memory, he would occasionally defy his instincts merely for your extra attention.

But of course he would never admit it. His blaring pride just couldn’t allow him.

You had already given a brief demonstration of the takeoff, now maintaining your height a careful distance above Hawks. The wind from your wings blew his hair back as he readied his stance.

“Don’t forget to push off with your legs,” you add.

And with a brief, inward countdown, Hawks pushes off the ground. You inch back a bit, allowing him more space to himself as he searches for stability in the air. His wings flapped graciously, each one perfectly on beat as the last.

“That’s it! You got it,” you thrilled, lowering yourself so you hovered across from him.

Hawks looked at his wings, then turned to you. The two of you moved in sync, rhythmic gusts of wind rippling the grass beneath you. A wide grin stretched his lips.

“You ready to go?” you ask with a subtle gesture to the sky.

The reflection of the clouds glimmer in Hawks’s pupils, and he nods without hesitation.

It doesn’t take long for him to get the hang of it. Flying came natural to him, and he was finally back in his element. Admittedly, Hawks was slightly more disoriented than he was before, but it all came with time. Just like you said: “It may feel weird now, but in a week or two it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

You were more than thrilled to see your patient like this. It wasn’t often you would see him smile in this exact manner, but when he did, it was eminently contagious. He was flipping, twisting, and committing to small dives that you normally would have reprimanded on the first day back in the air, but he looks so content—so free. You could not bear to strip him of his elation.

You glanced towards him, and he shared your gaze, delivering a proud smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. You laugh.

Keigo found himself dreaming about the day in bed. You advised him not to fly on his own yet. He listened. And he couldn’t tell if he enjoyed today as much as he did because it was his first time back in the clouds, or because the winds were blowing just right, or because the sun wasn’t too low in the sky, or because he wasn’t alone. But maybe, just maybe, it was because you were the one accompanying him.

• • •

Today was Hawks’s last physical therapy session with you. It turned out to be better than he thought, but he was still embarrassed that it was something he looked forward to. Hawks was positively confident in his flying now, and yet he would still attend every other weekday at 2 PM.

The time was 2:16. You're never late.

Keigo’s leg bounced on the hospital tiles impatiently, and he checked his phone’s lock screen for the tenth time that hour. There was a text from you.

I’m so sorry, but something just came up, and I’m afraid I will have to miss today. You’re pretty much good to go! But if you still want to have our final session, I would be more than happy to reschedule.

Sincere apologies,

Y/N

Keigo could not ignore the formality that masked your messages. Unknowingly, he resents the politeness.

He acknowledged your text and pockets his phone, exhaling a long, drawn out sigh as he stood up. Nodding to the receptionist at the front desk, Hawks pulls his jacket over his shoulders and exits through the glass doors.

Only now as he walked through Hosu’s streets did he comprehend his fame. Fans asking for pictures and autographs, obnoxious shutter clicks of cameras. Keigo wasn’t in the mood to humor the people; he was in the mood for a physical therapy session; for you to teach him things he pretended not to know; for you to hold his wings in order to get the best stretches.

A growing crowd began to circle the hero, and that was enough for Keigo to decide it was time to go.

With a dash of guilt, he flies lower than he usually would in order to see the people beneath him. He knows why, yet it still baffles him.

There you are, arms full of paper grocery bags piled in front of your face. Shockingly, Keigo was able to recognize your figure in the passing crowds. He closed his wings, ready to dive down and greet you with a beaming smile, but he swiftly retreated to the closest, open roof. It would be much too intrusive of him to meet you outside of work.

Yet a part of him wanted to.

The sunlight blinded you for a moment as you stepped out of the grocery store, heavily squinting to prevent the combustion of your pupils. You readjusted the toppling bags in your arms when your eyes caught something of interest.

Your left wing shielded your eyes from the sun as you stared up at the peak of a midrise apartment building.

Only halfway through his name, you quickly stop yourself to refrain from causing a stampede of fans; instead, you beckon the silhouette with your wing.

“See! I told you you’re good to go. Don’t even need my help to fly.” You tilt your head up as Hawks lands before you.

He’s already heaving half of the grocery load into his own arms before you could reject his assistance. “Where are you going?”

“My grandma needed a few things at the house right away. I’d fly but I don’t want to risk dropping anything,” you explain.

Hawks was quiet. You were tending to two people simultaneously with an angel’s patience. Switching between the two must have drained your energy, and yet you were nothing but kind to Keigo. How?

He walked with you all the way to your apartment, both of your arms sore from the endless haul. A couple of vermillion feathers scooped the bags from your hands when you fumbled with your keys.

You looked to Hawks with an impressed smile. “You’ve even got your feathers under control.”

“More or less.”

• • •

Late morning sun seeped through the window curtains, warming the entire room with a touch of soft vibrancy. It was a Saturday.

Ironically, Hawks hates Saturdays.

You would think a man as busy as himself would kick back and relax on his only two free days of the week; however, Hawks was a workaholic. Enough to the point where any second of peace had him overflowing with anxiety. He didn’t know how to relax.

With a dramatic groan and a joint-popping stretch, Hawks rose from his nest of a bed. It was a horrid mess: a multitude of feathers littered the sheets, his pillow was lying on the floor, and a folded clump of blanket had been kicked off in the night.

A soft vibration buzzed against the wooden nightstand to his left. Hawks slid his legs over the side of the mattress and picked up his phone.

want to go for a fly?

The message read under your contact. A picture that was obviously taken without your knowledge during one of your physical therapy sessions as your profile picture in Keigo’s phone.

The lack of formality in the six word message made him sigh with relief.

Today would be the first Saturday he’d genuinely enjoy.

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

wanted to share my favorite writing i’ve read on tumblr! fun fact, i actually despise reading (but writing i can rock with), so when i actually do find something i like to read i kinda make it a big deal lol. @1-800glittergelpen has been a HUGE comfort writer of mine for a while now, so totally check em out ❣️

Stars Hollow Esque

Keigo Takami x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 2,740

The paper sat on your desk, you didn’t know how but it felt like it was mocking you. You ignored it as you shuffled through the paperwork you had left for the day. The more time went on the more it became clear that you would not be able to say no to the letters request.

Keep reading

#they write lots of hawks content #totally recommend it #literally the only writer i read lmao

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

Sorry, Didn’t See You

Hawks x Reader, sfw, fluff-ish??, word count 886

It was a young summer's evening, and Hawks was currently spending it on patrol. Despite the fact that patrol duty was one of the most tedious tasks for heroes, this one fairly enjoyed it. Flying through cotton candy clouds while his headphones played his favorite band was one of the few things he genuinely looked forward to.

The wind swept away his flat hums to ABBA's "Lay All Your Love On Me". Although he was supposed to be observing the ground below, he'd often find himself flying for his own pleasure: flipping, diving, even attempting to write words with an imaginary jet stream.

Keigo's lips curled into an excited grin when his eyes laid upon the sight before him: a beautiful, mountainous cloud. He gained speed, flapping his wings until they were sore so he could reach the height of the golden fog.

Its mist kissed his skin like a sunny drizzle, and a sensation so exhilarating yet soothing drove through his entire body.

Again, Hawks loved patrol.

But an abrupt collision knocked his headphones onto his neck and left a painful bruise on his head. A horrified gasp escaped his lips when he discovered what he had intersected with.

A person?

They were descending at a fleeting rate. Keigo snapped a powerful current with his wings that shot him downwards, pinning them tightly to his sides in order to slice through the air.

Your eyes blinked open, and you were instantly blown out of your once peaceful slumber. Wind pounding your face, you couldn't control your fall as your body tumbled violently towards the ground.

You could control clouds, but they wouldn't be able to halt your fall at this pace.

You calmed your breathing, knowing there would be no tomorrow if you continued to panic. Clouds stacked atop of each other below your path of descent, each one barely managing to slow your velocity as you plunged through them.

The earth was getting closer: you could distinguish individual buildings at this height. There was not enough water vapor at this altitude to form a cloud, and unless a miracle were to happen, your final hopes of adopting a puppy were shattered.

You were planning on going to the dog shelter this weekend.

A violent slam of impact hit your back and legs, and—shockingly—you weren't a bloody splat on the city streets. You involuntarily squirmed in the position you were being held, and peered up at the miracle of a human being.

"Wow," was all you could muster.

"Wow" that someone was here at the right time; "wow" that he had even managed to catch you; and "wow" that he was unfathomably attractive.

"Are you okay! Shit, I'm so sorry. That was totally my fault. I should've been more aware," he sputtered in quick, frantic bursts.

You could feel his heart pounding through his chest. "Yeah, yeah... I'm okay, thanks."

It was impossible to meet the immense worry in his wide eyes.

A timely silence cued you to beckon a cloud below your feet. The winged man observed, his brows lifting with an ingenuous curiosity.

"I can take it from here." Your voice was so feeble, so reluctant, yet determined to escape such a burning gaze.

"Ah"—his eyes jumped to the cloud, then back to you—"right."

The manner in which he let you go was so tender, so humane; you were a newborn being placed in their crib for the first time again. As his gloved hands slipped from your body, you peered up at him gratefully.

"May I?" he inquired from above.

You nodded, lightly patting the space beside you.

Hawks finally lowered himself, his movements stiff and rigged, but eventually he found comfort in your presence. He had not even realized the music from his headphones was still playing.

The faintest buzzing could be heard from them, and they caught your attention enough to ask: "What're you listening to?"

"A lotta old stuff—seventies, eighties."

"Can I hear?"

Hawks hummed, lifting the headphones off his neck and lowering them over your ears. Again, you couldn't help but soften from his gentle behavior. This side of the number two hero was never televised.

The pre-chorus of "Slipping Through My Fingers" sung through the speakers, and you couldn't help but sway your head side to side with the soothing melody.

Hawks failed to hide the growing smile on his admiring face. "What song is playing?"

Silently, you twisted the left earmuff outwards for him to listen. His chest bumped your shoulder, and his tousled hair tickled your neck as he leaned into the headphones.

"It's nice," you say.

The dirty blonde exhaled shortly, averting his attention toward the bleeding sun. "It is."

Puddles of red and pink pooled below the sun as it neared the horizon. Glass buildings held the star above them, reflecting the warm tints of the sky.

Hawks was pleasantly surprised with how relaxed you were swaying to his music—no more than ten minutes ago were you plummeting to your death. Now here you were, humming so faintly, so sheepishly for only him to hear.

Keigo had fallen.

#hawks definitely listens to ABBA #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #mha #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #self insert #gender neutral reader #oneshots #anime #sfw #writing tingz #falling #fluff #hawks fluff

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Note

Hello! I've been poking through your Hawks fics and I love them 🥺 The ideas you write about are so interesting and your writing is so fun to read! I'm excited to see what kind of things you come up with next ;u;

Thank you so much! I couldn’t have received a better compliment :’) This really helps motivate me to post more, so stay tuned! Hawks is one of my favorites, so you’ll see more of him in the future💛💛

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

A BMX Bike and Middle School

Mina Ashido, Kirishima Eijirou, self insert, sfw, word count 941

"C'mon, Ei. You'll be fiiine,” you dragged on the last word, leaning over the handlebars of your bicycle with your elbows.

"I don't know about this, man," quavered Kirishima.

Mina gripped your shoulders, bouncing up and down on the rear, metal pegs of the dirt bike. "Hurry up! I wanna get ice cream."

It was the last day of middle school (aka: the day the three of you agreed to bomb the monster hill at the end of your street). No more than ten minutes ago was school released, and as soon as the bell rang, you booked it for the top.

Now the only problem was loading three people on one rusty, 18 inch wheel Mongoose.

"We all agreed to do this. First day of summer break, remember?" you said.

"It's way scarier when you're actually at the top, y'know." Kirishima stood beside the front wheel, his eyes narrowing at the steep road ahead.

You lifted the green, spiked mohawk helmet off your head and slapped it on your friend's. He flinched at the sudden action.

"I'm a great biker. I promise you won't fall off and die."

"Was the second part really necessary?"

"Just get on."

Kirishima filled his lungs with a preparatory breath as he settled himself on top of the handlebars. He planted his feet on the front, black painted pegs, legs trembling with nerves.

"You good?" You poked at his side.

Kirishima held his hands to his stomach in defense. "Yeah... yeah. I think so."

"Promise we'll all be fine. And Ei, if you fall off, just harden or something," you added.

"Huh?"

"LET'S GO!"

You pushed off the ground with all your strength. In exactly two seconds, the bike was rolling at an incredibly high speed.

"WOOO!" screamed Mina from behind, her arms now wrapped beneath your own.

An excited grin stretched your lips as you leaned to your left, tilting the bike in order to make the sharp turn down the street. Your cheek pressed against Kirishima's side, his hands gripping the handlebars with an ungodly strength.

You maintained your focus, steering the loaded bike past braking cars on the right. Mina pointed a pink finger at a nearing stop sign near the base of the hill.

You clenched the right brake, but a loud, metallic snap caused a bolt of panic to travel through your bones.

"Uh oh."

"WHAT'S UH OH?" shrieked Kirishima through the blasting wind.

The bike showed no signs of slowing, nor did the cars in the crossroad ahead.

Kirishima's face was the definition of fear as the handlebars below him suddenly jerked in a new direction. You squeezed your face below his arm to get a better view in front of you—a better view of the construction ramp eight feet ahead.

"YEAH! JUMP IT!" cheered Mina from the rear, her fingers digging into your shoulders.

"NO! DON'T JUMP IT!" Kirishima leaned back into you.

"HOLD ON, GUYS!"

The bike weaved between the fluorescent orange cones surrounding the scene. It all happened in slow motion: a blur of cars passed beneath the three of you, flying over the moving intersection while screaming like hyenas.

A harsh slam of impact made your grip on the handlebars shake, but you quickly steadied the front tire.

You had made it across safely.

"WHAT THE HECK JUST HAPPENED!" Kirishima was in hysterics.

"Your best middle school memory!" you thrilled, standing up on the pedals now to maintain speed.

"That... was insane."

Even Mina was dumbfounded.

Before the three of you could recollect your thoughts, you stomp your foot down to make up for the lack of brakes, skidding the back tire to a full stop at the neighborhood ice cream truck's window.

An elderly woman smiled with delight as if you didn't just drift into the parking lot on a BMX bike loaded with three kids. Kirishima slid off, immediately taking a hold of your shoulder to support his balance. He swore his head was orbiting the sun right now.

Mina dismounted the rear pegs and ecstatically hopped to the window. There wasn't a moment of thought in her mind before ordering. She knew exactly what she wanted: "Can I have a Strawberry Shortcake Bar please?"

The ice cream woman obliged kindly. There were only a couple brief seconds between Mina's order and the popsicle being placed in her hands.

The pink haired girl whipped her head to her friend, asking him if he wanted any. Kirishima shook his head and stated he would throw up if he ate anything.

Mid-bite, Mina's eyes shot wide.

"Uh, Y/N... I totally forgot to bring money."

You checked your pockets. An old candy wrapper from school and half of a pink eraser with several pencil stabs were your only belongings. Shrugging, you looked up at Mina with a defeated frown.

Mina then shifted her attention to Kirishima, nauseous as ever. He managed to shake his head "no".

The woman in the ice cream truck seemed to have picked up on your silent exchange.

"You can have your ice cream for free. Take it as a summer break celebration."

Mina threw her hands up with jubilance.

"WOO! FREE ICE CREAM!"

Kirishima suddenly got a hold of himself as he elbowed her in the side. Mina retaliated with a stern "ow".

He thanked the woman with a courteous bow, and you couldn't help but snicker at the juxtaposition of your two friends.

Guiding the handlebars of your bike, you turned away from the truck waving goodbye. Kirishima was just thankful to be alive.

"Can I have a bite?" you said.

Mina tipped the popsicle to you, and you chomped down on the side.

"Hey! That bite was huge!"

#mha #mina ashido #kirishima eijirou #self insert #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #anime #writings tingz #platonic #ngl kinda enjoyed middle school #sfw #gender neutral reader #biking

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

The Hill is Our Canvas

Tamaki Amajiki x reader, sfw, word count 739

Eight rolls of colorful fabric bumped in your arms with each step. They were barely balanced in your hold, partially blocking your vision where they stacked in front of your eyes.

The wind was strong: so strong, it made blades of grass into knives cutting against your bare shins. You continued with squinted eyes, your arms numb from carrying the fabric for so long.

A gust of wind more powerful than the rest caused you to fumble with the sage green bolt. You bit the inside of your cheek and stumbled after the runaway roll, but your failed attempts only worsened the situation, the remaining seven eagerly tumbling from your arms. A multitude of colors and patterns flowed over the rippling grass: canary yellow, fluorescent violet, and a silky azure.

Your body was too exhausted to cry. You mindlessly stared over the rainbow of cloth that continued to unravel down the hill.

The overgrown grass felt like a pillow as you fell back; fortunately, the violent winds had abated to a breeze. The air smelled naturally sweet in the way certain types of grass do when freshly cut.

Your fatigued eyes ambled across the sky; captivating, cumulonimbus clouds bathing in its beautiful baby blue. Suddenly, your gaze grew heavy. You found yourself struggling to keep your eyelids open, the unstoppable force that was sleep pushing them closed.

With a final, conscious breath expanding your lungs, you accepted the Earth's generosity and sunk into the grass.

• • •

A timid hand waved the sun in and out of your closed eyes. The interchanging flashes of light had pulled you out of your doze.

"Tamaki," you mouthed, but a breeze whisked your voice away.

The boy extended a hand to your squinting figure. You grasped it and pulled yourself up, careful not to overpower your gracious company.

Tamaki's bangs brushed his face with the wind, but he didn't seemed too bothered by it. The long ends of his black and white dress flowed around his ankles. It danced like he was underwater.

"Do you want help?" he asked, turning to face the grassy hill enveloped in silky fabrics.

Tamaki's choice to ask if you wanted rather than needed was intentional. You could hear it in his voice even through the spring wind's incessant whispers.

"Yes please.”

You glided down the grassy hill, lowering yourself to pick up the ends of the fabric. Tamaki gathered the other half of patterns, pulling them along the field to where they cut off.

Attentive, he observed your movements as you gathered the remaining fabric to their corresponding bolts. He mirrored you, careful not to soil the beautiful cloth.

Since they weren't perfectly rolled, they held more volume than before once pressed against your chest. Thankfully, Tamaki was by your side.

The sky was transitioning from sunset to night. You could tell by the way the west horizon was painted a turquoise green. The further east across the sky, the deeper blue it faded, and tiny pricks of light grew more prominent in the darkness.

You walked shoulder to shoulder in a comfortable silence even the tranquil wind shared. Crickets chirped shyly, their songs so gentle it was almost endearing. The occasional brush of Tamaki's dress against your ankle pulled you back to earth.

But that simple feeling could only give you so much energy.

Your legs began to falter, knees buckling, ankles aching. You were falling behind.

Tamaki stopped when he realized you were not by his side.

"Y/N?" your name was a question in itself as it left his lips.

"I'm just tired, sorry."

Tamaki trailed back a few steps to hold your free hand, four bundles of unraveled fabric tucked away in your right. His hand was so soft around yours. He would randomly squeeze your fingers, grounding you back to him.

You stared at your joined hands, your vision fuzzy with exhaustion.

The stars shone with confidence like they knew they were breathtaking. Tamaki would repeatedly point out the three constellations he knew: Orion, The Big Dipper, The Little Dipper. Though, you were pretty sure whatever stars Tamaki traced were actually something entirely different from what he said.

The soft hum of his voice was an embrace. As he spoke about the topic of stars—one Amajiki wasn't too keen on—you felt the gentlest kiss press against your knuckles. Then, your hand returned to your side, your fingers still intertwined with his.

#tamaki amajiki #tamaki mha #tamaki #tamaki amajiki x reader #self insert #gender neutral reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #amajiki x reader #sfw #writing tingz #wind #anime #i love grass #Impromptu No.1: Hope by Christopher Dicker

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

The Brand Takes Priority

Mtn. Lady, self insert, sfw, word count 503

tw: very minor bleeding

An urgent, buzzing voice in your earpiece causes your head to shoot up. You yawn and immediately slap your face, steadying your grip on the frozen steering wheel. In the sideview mirror, a sluggish, tousled figure approaches at a worryingly slow pace. Your hand reaches up to adjust the rearview mirror, and you start the car.

The left door clicks behind you, and there’s Yu. Her buoyant curls have gone to shreds, deep red stains seep through her disheveled costume, and only half of her mask remains on her beat up face, makeup smeared and untidy.

She fixes her gaze to the base of the car window, not particularly looking outside. You check your surroundings one last time, and with the static "go-ahead" in your ear, you step on the gas.

Yu is sprawled in the backseat, trying her best not to move or disturb her irritating wounds. You catch a glimpse of her through the rearview, a heavy silence audible over the car's humming.

"I don't know about this."

She hums questioningly but doesn't move, only her eyes lift from the vehicle floor to meet the windshield.

"This. Immediately going into hiding after battle—concealing the beat up ‘Mountain Lady’ from the public."

Yu barely nods, and you wouldn't have known that she gave any reaction if you weren't at a stoplight.

"You can't even get proper first-aid for your wounds because of this. After every fight, you have to wait until we get back to the agency just to patch yourself up. It's ridiculous!"

Yu remains unresponsive, her attention glued to the window. You clear your throat.

"I mean—how do you feel about it? Are you okay with all this?" Your eyes jab at the rearview mirror once again.

Her voice was barely a rasp, and it startled the two of you.

"It doesn't matter if I am. The media runs the people. The media runs the country. If they see me looking like this, I don't know what'll happen."

Your grasp readjusts on the wheel, hands sliding up the base to hold it at the top.

"But that's the real you. All Might, Endeavor, Hawks—even Ryukyu have been seen after battle looking bloody, broken, and like absolute shit. Why should your case be any different?"

The agency building is only a few minutes away now, and Yu sits in the back: quiet, thinking.

"Your manager's fucked you over, Yu. Your ability shouldn't be judged on how you look," you brake at another stop sign. "I know you're strong, really, really strong. You're the strongest person I know. The people should see that Mountain Lady, not the "ass-tronomical" shit. Your manager make you do that, too?"

Yu's neck begins to ache from her lowered head. "He did."

"I thought so."

You push the gear stick into park with more force than intended, unbuckle your seatbelt, and assist Yu in finding her balance on the sidewalk. A hush embraces the two of you as you enter the building.

"Thank you," whispered Yu.

"You're welcome."

#mtn lady #yu takeyama #takeyama yu #self insert #mtn lady x reader #mountain lady x reader #takeyama yuu x reader #takeyama yuu #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #sfw #gender neutral reader #writing tingz #inspired by a tiktok headcanon i saw by ava_leeigh #love when people write for mha's women because horikoshi cannot for his fucking life

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

In Painted Admiration

Hawks x reader, sfw, word count 927

You raked the tips of your fingers across the strings of the spruce harp, elegantly lifting your wrists upon the final glissando. Eyelids shut, shoulders dropped, you let out a weary sigh.

An entire minute passed, and your only sign of movement was smoothing out the milky satin dress that hung off your knees.

The grand windows welcomed a warm light that encased the beautiful, renaissance paintings on the wall. Your eyes followed the floating particles of dust caught in the sun's rays as if they were the most enchanted thing in the world; in other words, you were outrageously bored.

A faint, muffled chatter pulled your attention to the room’s double doors.

"...stays in their room. If they were to meet any of tomorrow's guests..."

Right. A neighboring kingdom's royal family was visiting tomorrow evening. That was all you knew on the subject.

However, it was only expected your mother would say that. Any second an outsider wandered the halls of the castle, you were restricted to your suffocating bedroom. In conclusion, you've never met another person besides your family and those who worked within the castle. It was humiliating.

"Beautiful harping, Your Highness.”

You spun to your right, but the room was empty.

"Hello?" Your own voice surprised you, for it was only on special occasions when you got to use it.

"Harping... harp-playing. Is harping even a word? I think I just made that up," it rambled.

You continued to twist and turn on the bench, searching the frozen room for any sign of life. "Harping is a word. Nobody uses it anymore."

"Ah, got it."

Finally, the slightest flow of movement caught in the corner of your eyes. Just to your side was a vast, hazy fresco of a young man with flaxen blonde hair. He held his left arm up to the sky, a flaming ball of light an inch from his fingertips, and a set of brilliant, crimson wings extended behind his back. The painted man wore a draping, gold-accented, white garment that exposed half of his chest and cut off at his shins.

He lowered his arm, stepping down from the unmoving position he held for all twenty one years of your life.

You leaned in closer to the wall.

"Hey," he said with a lopsided smile, his elbow wresting on a fluffy, painted cloud.

"Hello," you said back.

"C'mon, at least act a little surprised. You're talking to a painting for christ's sake." The man rolled his eyes.

"I figured I was dreaming."

He briefly rose his eyebrows, his index finger tapping against his jawline.

"My name’s Keigo, by the way. Nice to finally meet you."

You sputtered your own, a subtle awkwardness to your flow.

It was a natural instinct for Keigo to reply with flattery.

Each second of eye contact with him came easier than any other person you've spoken to. Maybe that was because he was a painting—and not a person.

And the way he stared, spoke, and blinked looked like he was in a trance. You couldn’t tell if he was incredibly dreamy or an incredible dreamer.

"What is it like being a painting?" you inquired, your hands folded neatly on your satin lap.

Keigo was impressed by your initiative.

"It's alright..." he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Actually, no, I lied. It sucks. I hate it. It's so boring."

"We both live boring lives then."

Keigo's shared sympathy only grew for the two of you. He pondered what he could say to lift your spirits.

"Hey, but look on the bright side. This is my first time talking to... not a painting—and your first time meeting someone entirely new. Feels nice, doesn't it?"

No matter how humiliating the fact was, he was right. And somehow, you weren't embarrassed about it around Keigo. For once in your life, you could finally breathe.

"Yes. It does,” you said, and steered the conversation back to him. "Do you know the meaning of your artwork?"

The blonde slumped back, his chin finally lifting from his planted elbow.

"Sort of. I'm not one to think about it much, but what I guessed was ‘the image of hope and determination’. Since I'm reaching for the Sun like that and all," Keigo paused for a moment, reenacting the pose he's practiced all his life. "That, or I'm just Icarus."

Your hand covered your mouth as a laugh tugged at your lips. A laugh. Oh my god, you laughed.

Keigo's face lifted with amusement, a baffled grin on his own ruby red lips.

"Actually, I quite enjoy the legend of Icarus. Some believe the moral is to listen to your elders, but if that's so, I'd rewrite the story given the chance."

It felt amazing to talk, to speak, to hear your own words aloud. Not only to yourself but to another as well. You forgot how exhilarating it felt.

Albeit, Keigo had cut your Greek Mythology rant in half. "God your voice is beautiful."

Your face felt like it was on fire, and your fingers tightened around your dress. Keigo seemed to enjoy your reaction, for he only leaned further in.

"All of these years of watching a stunning royal as yourself... And to think I never even spoke to you until now. Can you believe it?"

His tone was the definition of flirtatious. It froze you to your very core. Finally satisfied with your bemused state, Keigo concluded his serenade.

"Hellooo," he sung. "You alive?"

You met his poking, golden eyes and delivered a subtle nod.

"I'm alive."

#hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #boki no hero academia x reader #sfw #gender neutral reader #royal core #self insert #dark academia #light academia

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

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Hiii could I just say how amazing was “Over an Anpan, Really” I loved everything about it and the way u wrote shigaraki, I was wondering if u gonna make it into a series? If not that’s totally ok I just wanted ti say how much I loved it, hope u have a great day💕💞

thank you so much! i didn’t have any plans for that, but i do have more some more ideas for shigaraki, so stay tuned for those :]

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

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hi holy shit ur recent hawks post was fucking incredible? is there any chance you’ll be following it up with a part 2? have a great day!

most likely not. i was very happy with the ending, but don’t worry, lots more hawks content to come! also thank youuuuu

0 notes

red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

Down Horrendous lol

Bakugou Katsuki x reader, sfw, word count 1,255

He was tired: tired from the day, tired from training, tired of his emotions. Cranking his earbuds to max could only drown his thoughts so much, but the deafening volume resulted in more tinnitus than anything.

His pillow was a slab of slate against his head as he twisted and turned in the night. It was too hot for a blanket, yet too cold without one.

Somewhat humiliated, he was aware of what was keeping him up, but he thought if he chose not to acknowledge the churning in his organs, it would subside. Each night was worse than the last. He was beginning to fall behind in class due to a lack of sleep.

It was a cycle of agony.

The next morning, he sat at his desk, his head occasionally dropping as he teetered on the brink of sleep: lovely, beautiful sleep.

"Kacchan? Are you awake?" a cloudy voice poked into Bakugou's mind.

He didn't even have the energy to snap in response; instead, he rolled his head to the side facing Midoriya, making no attempt to change his expression.

Midoriya shivered. That gesture was more terrifying than any words could have been. "Never mind."

Alone with his thoughts once again, he began to drift away from reality. Bakugou hadn't even realized he was daydreaming until the one plaguing his mind settled a couple of chairs in front of him.

It hurt. It hurt so much. And he hated every second of it.

You barely even knew him or acknowledged his presence. But he couldn’t see, hear, nor feel a thing that wasn’t you.

It was torture.

You were considered the strongest student in the class when it came to just about anything. You were well rounded: extraordinary in strength, leadership, communication, and everything in between.

Who else would be in Bakugou's dreams but the number one student?

He shook his head, his blonde hair becoming even more tangled if possible. It passed unnoticed: him digging his nails so deep into his palms in a tight fist until the pain finally woke him up.

God.

"Good morning." A new presence entered the classroom.

"Good morning, Aizawa-sensei," the class echoed, each person slightly offbeat.

Aizawa’s heavy eyes skimmed the room. Seeing there were no empty desks, he immediately began the lesson.

It was a normal one today. Taking notes, answering questions, asking them. It was so normal, Bakugou had trouble paying attention to whatever the teacher was spouting.

How could he when you were just in front of him?

You realized how stiff your back felt, so you grabbed the back of your chair, twisting your upper body until you felt the satisfying pops of your spine. On the second twist, you met the gaze of one of your classmate's two rows behind.

He didn't elude your gaze. It surprised you.

You quickly turned back around in your seat when you heard the loud snap of a pencil. It came from the back.

"Bakugou, is there a problem?" Aizawa grumbled from the board.

The entire class poured their attention to the blonde.

"No?" His tone dripped with sarcasm and attitude.

Aizawa wasn't pleased. "Answer the question then. In the situation where hostages are being held, what action do you take?"

Bakugou swallowed. He wasn't listening at all, just daydreaming. "I-I don't know."

That was the first time the class heard him stutter.

"Wait outside."

The teacher's words hung through the air, growing heavier with each millisecond. Bakugou's chair loudly screeched as it scraped the ground. He let out an indignant scoff as he passed under the doorframe.

Either Aizawa must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning, or there was something going on that nobody else knew of. He was normally much more unflappable than this.

The class, silent and patient, watched as your teacher ripped a piece of paper from his notebook and jotted down a few words. He folded it up and said, "(y/n), give this to Class 1B."

You grabbed the note from his hand and walked out of the stagnant classroom. Everything felt so quiet it was haunting.

On your way to the class next door, you saw Bakugou sitting against the wall, his elbows propped on his knees. Instinctively, he looked up to see who was joining him outside, but when he noticed who it was, he immediately turned away.

You chose to ignore him. The majority of the time you spoke to him in training (or just in general), it would end in a short, snarky response.

You poked your head into the next classroom, Bakugou's eyes following your back. The students turned to you.

"(y/n)-chan! How lovely you decided to transfer classes. I see you've finally found who the strongest was after a—"

Monona received a strong knock on the head by Kendo who was conveniently seated beside him.

"Thanks, Kendo," you chuckled.

"Don't mention it."

You quickly handed the note to Mr. Kan. His monstrous fingers unfolded the paper delicately, and he scanned its scribbled contents.

"Class! Aizawa-sensei has informed us that we will be delaying our class scrimmages until further notice."

"They're probably not ready for our greatne—OW!"

You were already out the door by then, but Mr. Kan's announcement lingered in your head.

Delayed?

Was it because of Bakugou?

A new perspective of the blonde ran through your mind as you noticed him in the hall this time. He wasn't staring. His head hung low, and you couldn't tell if he was sulking or sleeping.

Hesitantly, you passed him on the way back to the classroom, but something had stopped you.

"Hey."

You turned your head, eyeing his hand that had caught your arm.

"Uh, sorry," he grumbled, reluctantly letting go.

"What's up?" You looked past his sudden touch as if it never happened.

There was an unspoken tension between you. The hall was frozen, and there was no sound coming from either classrooms. It was only the two of you.

Bakugou shuffled in place and stood up, his hands dropped to his sides as he tugged on his pockets.

You waited patiently, but you were eagerly curious of what was to come.

"I think you're... um," he paused, barely managing to pull the words from his throat. "You're really strong. And I admire that from you. A lot." His gaze drifted away from your eyes and to your hand.

A bemused smile grew on your lips, and you spoke with an airy laugh, "Thanks. That says a lot coming from you."

"Why are you laughing?" He was obviously offended.

"I never expected a compliment from the high and mighty Bakugou Katsuki."

He dismissed the foreign feeling in his chest once again. There was so much he wanted to say, but his lack of experience on such matters betrayed him.

"Uh, also—"

Before Bakugou could finish his sentence, Aizawa stomped in between you. His presence swiftly cleared the air of any lingering tension.

"(y/n), you can go inside now."

You nodded, wishing your farewells to the blonde. As you made your way back to your seat, you caught a snippet of Aizawa's sentence: "...behaving different recently."

The gears finally shifted in your head. Now that you thought about it, he was right: Bakugou was not nearly as aggressive as his usual self. He was often distracted in class, losing his focus and fumbling his answers.

Additionally, this morning wasn't the only one you had caught him staring.

You began to string the pieces together in somewhat disbelief yourself.

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #sfw #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha x reader #gender neutral reader #i had no idea how to end this so it's a bit abrupt

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