Mom's Carbon Copy With The Same, Untameable Hair

mom's carbon copy with the same, untameable hair

Tags

bakugou katsuki bnha <3 absolutely love the Baku-family

Writer Accountability - 1/6

Stealing the idea ish from both @cee-grice and @did-i-do-this-write to post when I write something, and share a little...

Anyway, today we got to meet everyone's favorite bastard :^)

He spoke with no thought that the stranger would understand, but the youth surprised him again by responding in kind. His accent was thick and slow and rich as honey, but understandable. "I think what pleases me is not important here," he said, "your destination doesn't matter much at all, remaining here isn't a choice." "You speak my language," Anrikas could not help but say. "It's my language." "Not as first you spoke." The stranger clucked his tongue. "People do speak more than one language, you know." [skipping a bit here] "You may call me Anri," he said, "what may I call you?" "Kit." Anrikas was not sure that he had heard correctly. "Like a baby animal?" By way of explanation Kit said only, "They called my mother Fox."

@the-letterbox-archives it's your boy!

Anyway, I guess let me know if you want to be tagged on these? I'll probably hop projects a lot because it's me lol

Tags

other peoples writing that is def a killer final line omg

16 notes View Post

bi-focal12

3 months ago

my other wips have been fighting me so i decided to return to this gem and it did not disappoint. i love being able to laugh while i write, lol

its also looking like this is gonna be a small series? (to be updated who knows when, but i'll create a taglist for it so lmk if you want to be added/dropped from that!)

part 1 is here

Taglist: @antsday :)

Katsuki contemplated the torn off receipt in his hand, slowly wrinkling the paper between his fingers and re-straightening it in even turns.

The ink was slightly faded- courtesy of an accidental encounter with his washing machine that nearly resulted in the machine’s death at Katsuki’s hands- but he could still clearly make out the string of numbers and the name Deku. The smiley face, however, had not survived.

After twenty minutes of staring, setting it down, picking it back up again, and glancing consideringly towards his phone, Katsuki decided it was time to stop being such a fucking loser and call already.

“I’m Katsuki fucking Bakugou,” he muttered to himself. “King of the jungle.”

“What jungle?” Kirishima asked with a snort.

With a jolt, Katsuki spun on his heel, finding Kirishima sitting casually at his kitchen table, nursing a half-eaten bowl of cereal.

“When the fuck did you get here?” Katsuki exclaimed. “I thought I fucking confiscated your key!”

Kirishima waved his- Katsuki’s- spoon around in a yes-and-no manner, crunching around another mouthful of cereal.

Katsuki’s cereal, goddammit. And that shit was expensive.

“You really think me and Denks didn’t make copies?” Kirishima finally replied.

Katsuki crossed his arms, scowling.

“Answer the other question,” he commanded darkly.

Kirishima grinned without an ounce of shame.

“Long enough to know that someone’s got a crush,” he replied, drawing out the last word like a fucking twelve-year old.

Katsuki reached for the closest object- an apple, sitting nicely atop Katsuki’s fruit bowl- and lobbed it at Kirishima’s head.

“Mercy!” Kirishima cried, laughing and ducking away from the projectile.

“Fuck you!” Katsuki reached for a can of air freshener next, catching Kirishima in the shoulder with it. “Trespassers don’t fucking get mercy!”

“Bro,” Kirishima cried, crawling awkwardly under the table while Katsuki continued to throw things at him, bowl of cereal balanced in one hand while he dragged Katsuki’s chair legs around to create a half-hearted wall. “Can’t we just talk about our feelings like men?”

Katsuki practically growled in response, but the roll of paper towels in his grip lowered.

“I feel like I need to change my locks,” he spat.

“No!” Kirishima despaired. “But then how would I know my bro is having an emotional crisis?”

“I’m not!” Katsuki shot back, sticking out a foot to kick the chair in front of Kirishima, making sure that one of the legs rammed into his knee.

Kirishima made a wounded noise at the attack, shuffling further under the table. Then he sniffed dramatically.

“Bakubro, do you smell something burning?”

Katsuki turned suspiciously toward the oven, abandoning the paper towel roll on the countertop. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked, striding over to investigate. “You can’t leave a fucking hot oven unattended, dipshit.”

Katsuki pulled down the handle but found its contents cold and empty.

“Oh wait,” Kirishima said in his most annoying voice, “it’s just your pants. ‘Cause you’re a lying liar. No emotional crisis, my ass.”

Katsuki slowly closed the oven but remained crouched in front of it, forehead falling against the door with an audible thunk of resignation.

This was just his life now. Trespassers and stolen food and schoolyard taunts he hadn't heard in over a decade.

Fucking Kirishima.

“I don’t think your brain aged past thirteen,” Katsuki muttered scathingly.

Kirishima loudly slurped at his cereal, unbothered.

“So’re you gonna call this guy or not?”

Katsuki let his forehead begin to slide unpleasantly down the oven.

“How the fuck do you even know about him?” Katsuki complained dismally.

Katsuki could hear chairs being pushed away from the kitchen table and what was probably Kirishima’s empty bowl being tossed in the sink, but he didn’t bother to acknowledge the man until he had pried Katsuki’s head away from the oven door.

“Denki glanced at the security tape,” he explained. “And then showed it to me and Jirou.”

Katsuki took a deep breath through his nose as he mulled over the new information, then collapsed unhappily onto his back in the middle of his kitchen.

Kirishima dropped into a cross-legged seat beside him. “General consensus was that you had a flirty encounter,” he continued. “Oh, but Todoroki wasn’t convinced.”

Katsuki stared unblinkingly at his ceiling.

“Fuck my life.”

“So’re you gonna call him?” Kirishima asked again, excited.

“And say fucking what?” Katsuki bit out skeptically. “I’m cool, go out with me?”

Kirishima raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Well…he did give you his number, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, for the fucking bird.”

“Uh, what?”

Katsuki suddenly shot up, eyes wide. “The bird!”

Kirishima watched on in a mixture of confusion and concern as Katsuki quickly clambered to his feet and retrieved his phone and the scrap of paper he’d been obsessing over from the countertop.

“I’m so lost,” Kirishima whispered.

“Fucker’s a pet therapist,” Katsuki explained, somewhat manically, jabbing at his phone.

“He’s a what?” Kirishima spluttered.

“That’s my in,” Katsuki said, determined.

“Wait. What happened to ‘I’m cool, go out with me’?”

Katsuki clicked his tongue and angrily flicked his hand at Kirishima.

“Shut the fuck up, it’s ringing!”

Tags

bkdk bakugou katsuki mha bnha kirishima eijirou my hero academia fanfic writeblr writers on tumblr fanfiction writerscommunity also fanfiction writer katsuki deserves to be dramatic abt this lol hes never been on a date before and he absolutely thinks the number was for the bird you gotta love kirishima hes so nosy

17 notes View Post

bi-focal12

1 year ago

A snippet from one of my more recent bkdk fics! It's called Bedside Manner by me, bi_focal :)

Deku sighed heavily and started walking closer. “Haven’t we decided that murder isn’t the proper solution to anything?”

“We haven’t decided shit,” Katsuki shot back, holding a palm flat across Deku’s chest to stop him from moving any further. “You’re sick. Go lie down before I shove this thermometer down your throat.”

“I’m not sick,” Deku argued, and when he tried to move around Katsuki he tightened his grip, twisting the material of Deku’s school shirt in his fist. “Kacchan-”

“If you’re not sick then kiss me,” Katsuki said, bringing up his free hand to tap his lips twice in quick succession. “Right now.”

Deku’s eyes grew wide and he fought a little harder against Katsuki’s grip, his limbs lethargic and weak. “But we can’t!”

“Because you’re sick,” Katsuki agreed.

“Because- because PDA!” Deku protested.

“I don’t think we have any rules about that Midobro,” Shitty Hair said. “Do we class pres?”

“We do not,” Glasses agreed, chopping his arm down in the air like a robot. “We are simply concerned about your wellbeing, Midoriya.”

“My being is well,” he countered. “I just…I just…Kacchan,” he said suddenly, twisting up his face so that he looked like a kicked puppy. “I- I don’t want to disappoint you but I’m really not comfortable kissing in front of the whole class.”

“Low blow dude,” someone murmured.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes but Deku kept up the act surprisingly well. “Everyone turn the fuck around,” he barked, and Katsuki didn’t have to turn his gaze from Deku’s shocked face to know that instructions were followed. “Kiss me.”

“I have morning breath.”

“Don’t care.”

“I bit my lip earlier and it hurts,” he tried instead.

Katsuki raised a brow at his uninjured lips.

“It hurts on the inside?” Deku amended.

“That would be the cold. Just admit that you’re sick fuckface.”

“Kacchan,” Deku groaned, “this is ridiculous. Just because I don’t want to kiss you with everyone listening in doesn’t mean I’m sick.”