#⸻ 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘶 | 心操人使 › … ic .
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
denki is making heart-eyes at shinsou from across the training field and it's probably gonna get him killed. GAWKING HE'S GAWKING ok the guy is impressive ? have you seen him do that thing with his scarf ??? where did he learn that !!!!!!!!
SAY WHAT ONE WILL ABOUT HITOSHI SHINSOU'S PRICKLY demeanor - but if anyone had wiggled their way beneath his cantankerous facade, it had been denki - at a rate closer to the speed of sound than anything else. they weren't exactly subtle about their moon-eyeing, or at least... kaminari wasn't. shinsou at least had the good sense to be a little more subdued. but it was hard. it was really hard when denki looked at him like that - with big cheerful eyes and a smile on his face and every time they brushed hands there was a little, tiny jolt of electricity- shinsou vaguely wondered if maybe he had an arrythmia or indigestion, but he was smart enough to know better and well, after the few swapped kisses over tutoring sessions...
he feels those eyes on him as his scarf hangs him pendulously from a low branch, now nimble form smooth when shinsou goes to drop to his feet, then do it all again. eventually, his endeavors bring him closer to denki's side of the field, and shinsou finally meets his gaze. head turning as he walks towards his next obstacle, the hero in training raises a hand, waving just slightly, before attempting to hide his face within the depths of his scarf, so the electric wielder could not see the stain of pink dusting his cheeks.
as a result, he promptly connects face first with a nearby tree.
later, after shinsou has successfully nursed his pride ( and nose ) - he seeks out denki. a hesitant hand finds his slim shoulder, and tired, lilac eyes offer him an almost imploring gaze - as he holds out his phone. when he speaks, his voice is low, just for them to hear, as the rest of class a looks on. ❝ will you charge me up, denki? ❞
0 notes
Text
A RETICENT SHINSOU LIVES HIS LIFE SURROUNDED by defense mechanisms - the purveying loneliness of many a person leaving him behind in lieu of fear of his quirk. there came periods when few spoke to him - were afraid of him even, and let hitoshi shinsou exist in a bubble of silence of his own making. it was better that way - easier that way, and while he wasn't particularly extroverted, it had caused his formative years to become a nightmare. couple that with his mother, and well... he wish he could say he was working on it. wished he could say he didn't put up walls a mile high when things started to look tough or even a little embarrassing, but he'd be lying. how else was he supposed to protect himself - other than his curt and often cold attitude?
realistically, he knew class a had been welcoming to him - had been trying to integrate him in despite the difference in skill that they insisted he did not have. everyone there supported his dream, denki most of all, but what was friendliness at face value with him burgeoned as something much more. everyone else knew it too - the needling way in which violet gaze would linger on the other young man. but he didn't think anything would come from it. denki was... bright, cheerful, popular, undoubtedly had a decent amount of suitors based on charisma alone. shinsou wasn't even on the playing field, therefore - logically, this had to be some horrific joke.
he stares down at the shorter student, gaze ever intense. denki's lithe fingers feel like a brand, the static electricity buzzing up his spine. shinsou swallows, thick and audible, face never changing - even as his palm is moved to the warmth of the other's chest, and... he listens, he feels, that stuttering heartbeat a cacophony beneath calloused digits. finally shinsou's features shift, splitting in surprise, before color rises to pale cheeks, and he has to glance away to gather his quickly fragmenting thoughts.
❝ kaminari... ❞ he clears his throat then, before letting loose a beleaguered sigh, ❝ you're such a... ❞ but the hero trainee doesn't finish the sentence, instead fisting his fingertips within denki's shirt, and dragging him down to sit with him again. this time - their thighs are pressed together, books abandoned, as his free hand raises. it curls about the other's chin, tilting his face towards him - and shinsou fixes him with a very, very pointed gaze at the same point the palm over his heart rubs the caress of his thumb along his sternum. ❝ do you... do you have feelings for me? ❞ it's level. steady. but he needs the answer. he needs the honesty, lest he embarrass himself further.
@chipen
Shinsou was as deserving as anyone to become a hero, Denki had always thought that, wasn’t ambivalent in the way others were about vocalizing it. Working beside him, seeing the diligent way he navigated making up for lost time, made him want to strive for more, to achieve more. He had never felt like the sort of student who deserved recognition, whose grades were adequate enough to merit anything more than gratitude that he did not fail but when they were together ? he felt like he could face anything, do anything. When his fingers retreat, the cool, pallid press of them against his forehead alleviating, he finds himself blinking, wide and innocuous, the hurt that is betrayed in his gaze alone enough to make his stomach churn. It’s as if he were burned, those quiet, serene moments of studying alongside each other forsaken for hastily gathering splayed books and scattered pencils, he’s certain his mouth is agape but every single word he knew had been effaced from his mind all at once. He makes a startled, incredulous sound as the other lurches to his feet, all but scrambling to reach out to him, any haze of somnolence banished from his mind as his fingers secure around his lithe wrist.
❝ wait, shinsou wait. ❞ gracelessly he stumbles over his words, almost mimics it in his stance as he staggers to find his footing. His arm is hanging pendulous between them, his hand encompassing his wrist, desperate to keep him there. Somehow, he felt he’d done something egregiously wrong, had inflicted the sort of unseen wound that he knew the other disguised with reticence. Now, he looked rattled in a way that made him feel viscerally distressed, his fair brows courted and his expression supplicating.
❝ y’really think i would do something like that ? ❞ his voice comes out less assured than he hoped, disquiet swelling between each hesitantly strung word. ❝ I like being around you, this, I like this. the studying, the hanging out the..❞ Denki’s voice wanes into a charged, staticky silence. He could feel the electricity humming alongside his heart, taste it on the back of his tongue. He needs to extend his hand, to reach across the cavern widening between them and pull him back. ❝ I dunno about things like feelings, I just know that when you’re here it’s good and when you’re not well, it’s no t as good.❞ he was floundering, making an absolute fool of himself he’s certain of it. The clock ticks idly, the moment suspended between 1:15 and 1:16 for what feels like an eternity. ❝ you can’t just leave like that man. ❞ he’s not good at thinking, call him stupid, a fool, at this point he would accept any of it, instead, he gingerly guides the other’s hand until it’s resting against the erratic thud, thud, thud of his heart. He shakes his head then, thinks he should let go but doesn’t. ❝ it’s .. not like that with anyone else, honestly, I didn’t know what that meant. ❞ a soft, frustrated sigh, that revelation coming at the price of hurting someone he never, ever had wanted to. ❝ can’t you stay ? just a .. little while longer ? ❞
1 note
·
View note
Note
Denki was listening attentively to Shinsou’s voice, concerned, as if he were balanced on the edge of his seat awaiting the worst possible news. ❝ dude, you really don’t think i’m dyin’ do you ? we haven’t even finished aizawa-sensei’s homework, if i don’t die from this i’m pretty sure imma die from that.❞ he angled forward so the other’s hand could rest against his forehead, a totally normal temperature; he wasn’t clammy, his skin wasn’t pallid or flushed. There was something about the other’s rapt attention being on him that made his heart race, an erratic, raucous beat thrashing against his ribs, his throat. He almost recoils involuntarily, taking notice of how his chest seizes, how his breath doesn’t feel quite so even anymore. ❝ it’s getting worse … should we call someone ? ❞
HITOSHI SHINSOU DIDN'T CONSIDER HIMSELF to be a particularly good person. sure he had a quirk that the world expected him to use for evil, and sure it would've been easy as pie to breeze through life with it. but it was almost out of sheer spite that he'd chosen the moral high road - accepting no accolades for it, instead simply working hard - harder than nearly anyone, and what he had to show for it was a new class and the human embodiment of pikachu vibrating into his life like a livewire. it was fine. this was fine. he could handle this. what he could not handle was denki's sheer density towards what he was feeling and how it hurt shinsou. it was cute - he had to admit - charming, wholesome, utterly innocent in it's own way at face value ( he was lying. he was just playing with him, right? denki was an exceptional actor ). but when his own emotions had been all jumbled - fixated and down bad on the other since the joint training exercise, it was hard for the future hero to not let his anxieties get the best of him. maybe denki really was sick? what if it was all a joke dreamt up by the class at his expense? was shinsou really the type of someone so bright and effervescent? someone so clearly heroic? maybe denki was just interested in his 'bad boy' exterior? he couldn't actually like him, right?
yet he finds his palm against kaminari's forehead, pressed beneath blond bangs and flush to his skin - he's not feverish, but he's warm, and close like this shinsou can see the flecks of gold in his topaz gaze. he swallows thickly, before allowing himself the liberty of trailing those same fingertips to denki's cheek, as if testing the heat there too, when all he really wants to do is savor the moment a bit longer.
❝ you don't need to play this game with me, denki. ❞ he says then, very, very solemnly, and removes his hand with much regret. here, in the dim light of the dorm at 1 AM, shinsou paints a haunting picture - the bags under his eyes heavy, the darkness of his gaze macabre next to denki's light. but as the other leans away, he lets his own fingertips sink into his darkwash jeans, making sure the batteries' gaze is fixed upon him. ❝ if it's some kind of joke to you - whatever, but don't pretend my feelings haven't been clear. ❞ imperious, there is the slam of his textbook, shinsou rising to his feet quickly, towering above the electric user with barely concealed hurt. ❝ m'not some exotic circus act for you to play with, kaminari. thought you were better than that. ❞ with haste, he begins shoving items away, ready to scurry off to the sanctuary of this room and pretend this whole night hadn't resulted in something confusing as hell.
#venstm#im crying#they're both actually so dumb they're outdumbing each other into a state of miscommunication#⸻ 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘶 | 心操人使 › … answered .#⸻ 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘶 | 心操人使 › … ic .
1 note
·
View note