seen from France
seen from Yemen
seen from Pakistan
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Georgia
seen from Iraq
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seen from United States
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seen from Iraq
seen from France
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seen from United States
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seen from France
@firstpaced
” okay we gotta take a break, dude. i swear my brain is completely fried right now. “ he groans, head thunking as he drops down onto the table. ow... kirishima lifts it so to rest his chin against the wood of bakugou’s desk and to peer up at his bro.
his bro who will hopefully show him MERCY. and just to help his case, he holds up the worksheet they’ve been working on, tapping at some of the scribblings written on it. “ look! we got halfway through! “
“ look at all those chickens ”
bakugou speaks with little compassion, little care. he speaks, though. he certainly speaks. “ look at all those chickens. ” . . . yes. there are many. truly, shōto is captivated. he stares out with some vague sense of wonder, the light from the sun reflecting on his face & brightening his eyes as it illuminates his complexion. he watches as the chickens scuttle around, their feets’ rhythm moving out of time with one another’s, like they’re trying to dance but they just can’t get it right. they’re trying hard & they’re almost admirable for it. he still gazes upon them, their feathers flopping & rustling in the wind… he wonders what it’s like to have wings & to have them clipped.never will they be able to fly. perhaps he, too, is just like them.
❛ they’re trying to fly. ❜
* / @firstpaced
just slowly leaaaaans his body 'til his head is resting on kaminari's shoulder. he's not looking at him. he's also not blushing ( yes he is ) so there's no need to call attention to it. let him rest.
AND SO THIS IS IT, the tale of how brave men die : wed to this unsought prophecy of being the chosen one. and so heavy is the head that wears that crown, visibly flipping several vibrant shades of red the longer he waits for katsuki’s full weight to settle against him — and once it does? once they’re left still, suddenly hyper - aware of how uneven each breath falls, rosy flush spreading heavy over a freckled nose? it’s like the best kind of torture.
——– does he say something? no, god, no. shut down that protocol for an uncomfortable joke fast lest you disrupt him ; all natural urges to ruin the moment are forcibly suppressed in the small action of shifting himself against the other, reciprocating the touch as lightly ( and carefully ) as possible.
legs spread slowly, knees knock together. maybe a little of his elbow spills onto katsuki’s lap. it’s all casual, a tentative dip in the water before the grand finale : bare courage mustered over what feels like years to ever - so - softly lean his head right back against the other’s, cautious but not unwilling.
it’s fine. it’s homey. it’s warm, that fleece bed of ashen tufts, pressed to the soft of his cheek as breathing rolls in gentle waves over katsuki’s head.
looks like they’re both just gonna have to waste away here.
sprawls out on top of him, not unlike a lazy cat.
@firstpaced
SURPRISE is what hits initially, but it’s quickly overcome with a feeling of ENDEARMENT. but that’s a natural thing to feel when your bro is nearby, isn’t it? yeah, duh. kirishima adjusts his position to a more comfortable one ( but careful not to jostle the blonde too much, lest he annoy him away ) before settling his hand on bakugou’s hair. it’s soft despite it’s spiky appearance. it makes him laugh a little. kind of like the king of explodokills himself.
maybe a bit of a BRAVE move, but his hair is just so fluffy. calloused fingers act gently as they run slowly through pale blonde strands. he knows people see his friend as a TICKING TIME BOMB and while he could very well be one, what does kirishima have to worry about when he can handle any ( most ) explosions that are thrown his way?
“ nice of you to join me bro. i was just gonna watch some disney flicks. “ he glances down, grin not wavering once since the other decided to plop down on top of his lap. “ i’m totally in the mood for musicals, buuuuut i can spare ya with brave if you want? “ a light ruffle to the dandelion head as he tilts his own. “ whaddya say? “
dreams are dreams ; fixation, an obsession ( some may consider even that an understatement ) ... thoughts from even an early age driving him in the direction of running away and joining the circus. that’s where his goals carried him, working harder than anyone else —- pushing himself harder, and harder, and even harder to achieve that dream.
and he’d make it — —- ! prove those who attempted to kick him off his feet wrong, and earn the name of ultra plus’ strong man ; an act cherished, and he’d look to himself with glee as he took one final glance over in the mirror. until ...
shove : ‘ k-kacchan ... ’ and this much was familiar, ‘ you bumped into me again. ’ it wasn’t an accident, he knew, yet part of him still hoped that this childhood friend would find kindness in his heart. / circus au ! @firstpaced
@fullcowled .
this is a bad idea . a horrible idea . there is nothing about this situation that spells out anything good , particularly when he already knows how it will end . he’ll fart , like that’s the funniest fuckin’ thing in the world and that’ll be that . some stupid , shitty , childish little prank that only a toddler would feel compelled to take part in ——
❛ the fuck for ? ❜
( aaaand he’s tugging on his finger )
there’s a wide grin on his face, amusement found in the upcoming prank, and young hero in the making could hardly contain his excitement ( between high pitched giggles sneaking past his lips, and his grin, this much wasn’t exactly a secret ... ). said excitement is short lived, however ... izuku’s grin quickly fading, and he could assume that his self growth and adaption to his quirk were progressing far more than he would have thought — —
—- and this much is evident from his now missing finger ; that finger now in katsuki’s grip.
‘ kacchan ... i didn’t mean that literally. ’ guess this was a hint to visit recovery girl more often.
✩ ˖ ˚ . @firstpaced.
❝ . . . ❞ silent irritation boils in crimson inferno -- pink lips are pursed, eyelids pressed tightly in some futile attempt to maintain her composure. breathe . . . she thinks. ‘ count to ten ’ she recalls the soothing voice of nomah -- pray tell, it does not ease her of the peril that folds her fingers into her palms with tension, nor the tightness of her jaw. some biting remark snaps from her tongue like a venomous snake lashing toward its prey.
❝ would you not silence yourself for one moment ?!
this is a public area, you know ! ❞
write me a starter fucknut :heart: :heart: :heart:
ok
