sometimes writing, always thirsting, infp, libra, completing my duties as midwife to the muse, writing style may vary, there will (eventually) be multiple fandoms and self-ship content!
i think because of the whole "writers write for themselves" notion that's becoming increasingly popularized, people forget that we still thrive off interaction and kindness. i write for myself but kudos and comments and bookmarks and really any sort of interaction with my fics genuinely motivates me to keep writing and keep sharing my works.
kirishima eijirou/fem!reader, reader can read minds/hear thoughts, roommates to lovers i fear, fluff
a/n: possessed by this man once more, send help
divider by pixopix
roommate kirishima who knows your quirk lets you read minds
who has a love/hate relationship with your at-home quirk cancelling device
he loves it because he doesn't have to worry about you hearing how utterly down bad he is for you directly from his brain
he hates it because he kind of wishes you'd hear it so he doesn't have to say it, so you know he really means it
roommate kirishima who turns your whole word askew one day by nonchalantly inviting you to read his mind sometime, any time, any place
you tell him you really shouldn't, you'd hate to have to find a new roommate because you accidentally learned his deepest darkest secret, and he just laughs
a week or so later, the idea has gnawed a hole clean through you and it's impossible to resist the urge
sitting in your room, taking off the quirk canceller, and just listening to the normal sounds of apartment living. your upstairs neighbours stomping around, birds chirping on the balcony, kirishima humming away in the kitchen as he makes dinner. focusing there, reaching out like an invisible hand to tune into his thoughts. surface level things at first, the recipe he's trying out, careful focus on the knife as he chops ingredients, and then - a niggling thought at the back of his mind about you. wondering if you'll like what he's making, what you're doing right now, if you'll ever take him up on his offer - and it only spirals from there.
what he'd really like you to hear if you did take him up on it: that he's madly in love with you, you're the first thing he thinks of in the morning and the last thing before bed (though sometimes that goes other places…), wait no this isn't about that. this is about how your smile stops his heart, your giggle starts it again. how he's memorized every single little thing he's ever learned about you in your time living together, from the way you take your coffee all the way to the extensive list of (all entirely necessary) bath products you prefer.
the depth of his feelings is overwhelming, almost enough to have you turning the device back on to block him out. something stops you though, the realization of the weight he's been carrying giving you pause. scrambling out of the bed and opening the door, you turn the corner into the kitchen a moment later to his blinding smile as he greets you, a towel in his hands as he dries them off. he seems to take in the expression on your face, his brows furrowing slightly as he sets the towel aside, reaching out to you as he asks if you're okay.
you just stare blankly for another moment before reaching out too, hands meeting as you step closer, tangling your fingers together as you meet his confused gaze. the two points of contact help, dropping you right back into his racing thoughts that consist overwhelmingly of you, you, you. the confirmation is all it takes to have you tugging him closer, free hand on one of his big broad shoulders to try to coax his massive frame down to your level. his eyebrows raise, a surprised laugh escaping him as he catches on and lets go of your hand just to grab your waist and hoist you onto the counter.
his broad frame settles between your thighs as they part to accommodate him, one big hand sliding up to cup your jaw and tilt your head back and then he's kissing you. his lips are slightly chapped and he tastes like whatever it is he's cooking, but the kiss is everything you've ever wanted from him. he's so eager that the kiss is a little sloppy, but you can't find it in you to care when you can hear his racing thoughts focused entirely on your reactions. sliding both hands to his hard chest has him leaning back, big carmine eyes meeting yours with a look of dazed wonder.
"i think you might be in love with me," you murmur quietly, fingers fisting in his shirt as his chest starts shaking under your hands. his pointed teeth accentuate his crooked grin, one shoulder raising in a half shrug.
"i think i might be, yeah," he replies, hands resting on the tops of your thighs as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. "is that all right with you?"
if you're writing and find yourself thinking 'this is too weird/gross/offputting/esoteric/ambitious/catered to my specific interests + sure to push away a broader audience' that is the devil speaking and it is a lie. you are already firmly on the right path and you need to double down
listen i may take 4 weeks to write a 3k word chapter, and i may take 45 minutes to decide whether i should use “laugh” or “chuckle”, but at least i don’t use ai and whatever you’re getting is pure chaos from a human brain
give a woman some guy and she'll be entertained for a day. teach a woman how to put some guy in situations and she'll be entertained for the rest of her life.
You should never create anything with a wide audience in mind. The so-called "general audience" doesn't exist; it's a fiction made up by advertising executives. Most of the time, great art and literature is made with the intention of pleasing no more than 4 or 5 specific perverts of the author's acquaintance
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