🖤💛🧻Sero Appreciation Post 🧻💛🖤

akaashi headcanons cus he can’t get out of my head 😵‍💫

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ keiji akaashi has dimples.

i don’t mean the small, barely visible ones. i mean the deep, majestic ones. even if he so much as lifts the corner of his mouth, a dimple shows up right in the middle of his cheek. he’s a little self-conscious about them though… :(

“whaddya mean you don’t like ‘em?” you pout, poking where they used to be.

“i dunno… i guess they always made me stand out,” he mumbles.

“they’re beautiful, keiji,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “make you you. they’re like the extra flare your pretty smile needs!”

after that, he’s smiled wider and covered his face less.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ keiji akaashi loooooooves the nicknames you give him.

kei, eiji, jiji, cash money — he loves them all maybe not the last one, even the ones he doesn’t quite understand at first.

“kaji? that’s a new one,” he says, tilting his head to the side as he pokes a straw through his milk box.

“i just thought of it!” you exclaim, taking a sip from yours.

“how’d you think of it?”

“keiji and akaashi; mix and tadaaa! — kaji! ahh i’m so smart!”

he only loves it because he considers it you forever calling him yours with each new name. he’ll never let anyone else call him what you do, though.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ keiji akaashi listens to clairo…

please put down the pitchfork and hear me out!!! he GENUINELY listens to clairo because he loves her vibe, lyrics, and overall style. he absolutely hates those “matcha loving, clairo listening, #socal” boys he sees on social media and would rather die than be associated with them. so, when you notice him listening to clairo for the first time, he gets a little scared.

“whatcha listening to, keiji?” you ask. he doesn’t budge, earphones still stuck in his ears. out of curiosity, you pick up his phone to see this hypnotic artist. keiji nearly has a heart attack from fear, eyes wide and face gone pale. once you see it’s clairo, you have a ton of questions on your mind.

“you listen to—”

“i’m not one of them please please don’t call me one of those things i am not one of them,” he rambles, clinging to your shirt. whatever question he answered definitely wasn’t on your mind, but his reaction only makes you giggle.

“i was gonna ask what your favorite song is, silly,” you say. he responds with a timid “oh,” removing one earpiece and giving it to you. he also shows you pictures of the albums he has at home that he keeps tucked away in his closet.

(his fav is partridge esp the live version 💆‍♀️)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ keiji akaashi always drinks a cup of tea every single night.

he loves how it warms his body and helps put his soul at ease. each night, he’ll set out his mug, boil some water, and place the teabag in with a small yawn. he def puts a couple drops of honey just for that extra flavor. he’ll slurp and sigh with much content, cozying himself up in his comfy pajamas. sometimes, he’ll read a couple chapters of a book while he drinks, pushing his glasses up after every sip.

even at little cafe’s, a nice cup of tea is his go-to! doesn’t seem like much of a coffee man tbh. even on nights where he as to cram, he refuses those coffee beans and heads straight for the tea bags.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ keiji akaashi is fluent in animal crossing.

i think once he started playing, he thought how they talk is so cute and he wanted to try it, too! not just that, but it’s his own secret language that he influenced onto you. he’d probably randomly speak it just to mess with people hehe.

“mimwmrmemwr? (you wanna eat after this?)” he asks you. his friends are a little confused, staring at him like he’s some alien.

“well, if you want to,” you reply. they look at you even weirder, absolutely flabbergasted.

“mmimrmwemrrm? (fast food or restaurant?)”

“i’m feelingggg sit down and eat.”

“mwmrmi! mwmrmem? (same! sushi okay?)”

“yes, sounds perfect!”

mouths agape, they look at each other with wide eyes and back to you.

“am i high or are they high??”

“you guys can come with if you want,” you shrugged, completely unfazed.

“where, your home planet???”

Everytime teacher! Izuku appears on my fyp and feed my body physically vibrates

i'm so done with seeing and finding purely smut fics, what happened to yearning?? what happened to developing plots??character development??fluff?? angst?? hurt/comfort?? what happened to those monologues of characters that hurt your heart and made you go insane AGH

fictionally, i love men with attitude (i.e. tsukishima, daiki, kuroo, shinso, katsuki, etc.) realistically, i’d want them all to absolutely eat dogshit if we meet irl

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Read before you request!

• I don't write nsfw content

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This.

Since we're all gonna die, there is one more secret I feel I have to share with you-

I did not care for Dabi.

Hello hello! Welcome to my blog!! It's quite new so I don't really know what I'm doing..

You can call me Kcandy, I go by she/her, and this is where I will be posting my fanfiction!

Some fandoms I'm planning on writing for:

•My hero academia

•Haikyuu

•Cupid's chatroom

•Harry Potter (marauders era only)

(Might add more later idk)

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I call him "Izuku" as if we're friends 😓

I’ve grown out of calling Midoriya ‘Deku’. I’ve become..

A man.

010. shoelaces, coolers, and umbrellas — akaashi keiji.

wc: 0.5k cw: gn!reader. akaashi keiji is a helpful man <3 a/n: i hate when people forget akaashi is canonically weird, but at the same time i have a specific vision of him in my head that i cant let go of. i hope you enjoy <3 requested by @thewhispersofthewaves

it’s the last evening of a week-long joint training camp between nekoma and fukurodani. the gym smells like floor polish and sweat, volleyballs scattered across the floor, jerseys sticking to backs. the air is thick with noise — lev yelling across the court, bokuto celebrating after a spike, yamamoto getting scolded for the third time for trying to show off.

you’re used to it by now. half manager, half unofficial peacekeeper. you refill water bottles, tape fingers, make sure no one forgets their knee pads or their dignity. it’s been nonstop since morning, but you don’t mind. not really.

you’ve been exchanging glances with fukurodani’s setter all week. not on purpose. it’s just that every time you look up, he’s already looking your way. akaashi is quiet. efficient. a little weird. the only one who hasn’t added to the chaos. he thanks you every time you pass him a towel. always bows a little deeper than necessary.

you catch him watching you when you scold yamamoto for throwing a water bottle at kenma. you don’t say anything.

later, you trip over your own shoelace near the bench.

he’s there before you can blink, already crouching, already steadying you and double-knotting your laces.

"you were due for that," he says.

you flush. "are you calling me clumsy?"

"i’m calling it a statistical inevitability."

you laugh, flustered. he smiles (barely, but it counts).

by the time practice winds down, most of the boys have already vanished into the locker rooms. the gym quiets. you’re packing up the med kit alone when footsteps approach.

"need a hand?" akaashi asks.

you blink up. "i’m okay. just wrapping up."

he crouches beside you anyway, folding ice packs into the cooler without needing instruction. you pack in comfortable silence.

rain begins to hammer against the windows.

you glance up. "great. i didn’t bring an umbrella."

he zips his duffle. then, without a word, pulls out a compact black umbrella and presses it into your hand.

"but you’ll get soaked."

"i’ve got a hoodie."

you hesitate. then take it, fingers brushing his.

"thanks, akaashi."

"anytime."

you both move to the entrance. the gym lights flicker behind you, the last echo of sneakers fading. rain pours in sheets now, wind tugging at loose strands of your hair.

he stands beside you, not quite touching. close enough.

"do you want to wait it out?" he asks.

you shake your head. "better to go now, before it gets worse."

you shift your bag, glance up at him. "thanks for earlier. for the shoelaces. and the cooler."

"you’re always doing something for everyone else," he says. "it’s easy to want to help."

you don’t know what comes over you, but before your nerves can catch up, you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. soft. quick.

he goes still. then — a beat later — he meets your eyes. his gaze softens.

"...that was nice," he says quietly.

you smile, tugging the umbrella open. "guess you’ll have to keep helping me, then."

he watches you step into the rain.

and even with the wind pulling at your sleeves — you swear you feel his warmth linger, just behind you.

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