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loves-n-kisses · 1 month ago

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HII! I have a request if you don’t mind. kindaaaaa based on the book/movie ‘everything everything’. katsuki x neighbor reader with a controlling mother :p

ever since they were kids katsuki could look out his window and see the window to his neighbors house, to the readers room. he often saw her there but never saw her outside of the house.

as they grew older (about 10), they would open windows and talk through the distance (by using papers to hold up) and eventually (secretly) exchange emails (bc she isn’t allowed to have a phone) to talk. she told him why she can’t come out and it’s bc her mom said she was allergic to the outside.

in their teens (16), whilst readers mom is away on a trip, katsuki convinces her to come out into the open and to which she does and finds out her lied.

katsuki takes her around the city and later that night, she meets his friends and has a really good time in general.

i watched the movie for this post ily

Worlds Through Windowsills - Katsuki x Fem!Reader

TW: isolation, mental abuse if you squint

A story where katsuki shows reader the world that's been awaiting her.

inspired by the movie Everything Everything.

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Katsuki Bakugou was seven when he first spotted the girl in the window across the alley. From his cluttered bedroom—posters of All Might plastered on the walls, a half-broken model grenade on his desk—he could see straight into her room. Pale blue walls, books stacked like towers, and her, always there, nose in a novel or staring out like the world was a puzzle she couldn’t solve. She never stepped outside. No school, no park, not even to grab the mail. Katsuki, all scraped knees and loudmouth bravado, thought she was weird. But his eyes kept drifting to her window, like a habit he couldn’t kick.

By ten, he couldn’t stand it anymore. One summer evening, as the cicadas screamed, he saw her holding up a piece of paper against the glass: Hi. I’m Y/N. Her handwriting was neat, too neat, like she’d practiced it. Katsuki squinted, grabbed a marker, and scrawled on a torn notebook page: Katsuki. Why’re you always stuck inside? Her reply came after a long pause, letters shaky: Mom says I’m allergic to outside. Really bad.

“Allergic to outside?” Katsuki scoffed, kicking his chair. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” But he wrote back: What’s it like in there? Boring? She grinned—a rare flash of teeth—and held up: Not boring. I have books. What’s outside like? That started it. Notes flew back and forth through their windows. He’d describe the chaos of the playground, how he’d blasted a kid’s dodgeball to bits with a mock explosion. She’d write about her favorite book heroes, like they were realer than him. One night, she pressed a paper to the glass: If you could go anywhere, where? He wrote back: Top of a mountain. You? Her answer was simple: The ocean.

Notes were too slow. One night, when the alley was quiet, she cracked her window and whispered an email address. “Don’t tell anyone,” she said, voice barely carrying. “Mom checks my laptop. No phone allowed.” Katsuki didn’t get why her mom was such a control freak, but he nodded, memorizing the address like it was a battle plan.

Emails changed everything. Late at night, his room lit by the glow of his screen, he’d type: You’re missing out, shut-in. City’s loud and awesome. She’d reply: Tell me about it, hothead. He’d describe Musutafu’s streets—the sizzling yakitori stalls, the flash of hero fights on giant screens, the way the air smelled like asphalt and freedom. Her responses were longer, weaving stories from her books, making him feel like his world was small. You make it sound alive, she wrote once. Like it’s waiting for me. He saved that one, though he’d never admit it. Another night, after a bad day at school, he typed: Why’s your mom so strict? Her reply was slow: She says it’s to keep me safe. I don’t know if I believe her anymore.Katsuki stared at that message for too long, something tightening in his chest.

By sixteen, they weren’t kids anymore. Katsuki, all sharp edges and U.A. training, still checked her window every day. Y/N had changed too—her hair longer, her eyes sharper, but still caged behind that glass. Her mom announced a week-long business trip, and Katsuki saw his shot. He emailed: Get out here. I’m sick of this window crap. Her reply was frantic: What if I get sick? I could die, Katsuki. He fired back: You won’t. I’m not an idiot. Trust me.

It took three days of back-and-forth, her emails full of what-ifs, his full of impatience. You’re not allergic. You’re just scared, he wrote. I’ll be there. Nothing’s gonna happen. Finally, she agreed. Katsuki stood in the alley at dusk, palms sweating despite himself, when her door creaked open. Y/N stepped out, wearing a too-big hoodie and sneakers she’d clearly never worn outside. She blinked against the fading sunlight, her breath hitching. “It… smells different,” she whispered, half-laughing, half-terrified. “Like… grass and smoke.”

“Stop overthinking it, dumbass,” Katsuki said, but his voice was softer than usual. He grabbed her wrist, tugging her forward. “C’mon. World’s not gonna bite.”

He took her through Musutafu, her eyes wide as she soaked it all in. At a street market, he shoved a yakitori skewer into her hand. “Eat it,” he ordered. She hesitated, then bit into it, her face lighting up. “It’s… warm. And spicy!” she said, like it was a revelation. Katsuki smirked, hiding how her smile made his chest feel weird. At a hero merch shop, she lingered over a tiny All Might keychain, her fingers tracing it. “I’ve only seen him on TV,” she said quietly. Katsuki bought it without a word, tossing it to her. “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he muttered as she clutched it like treasure.

In the park, she kicked off her shoes, spinning barefoot in the grass. “It’s so soft!” she laughed, arms out like she could hug the air. Katsuki leaned against a tree, watching her twirl until she tripped, landing in a heap. He snorted. “You’re such a klutz.” But when she looked up, eyes brighter than the city lights, he added, “You’re fine, right? No allergies or whatever?”

She froze, her laughter fading. “You think… Mom lied?”

“Obviously,” he said, crossing his arms. “Look at you. You’re fine.”

Her expression cracked—anger, betrayal, and something fiercer. She didn’t cry, but her hands balled into fists. “All this time…” she whispered. Katsuki stepped closer, voice low. “You’re out now. That’s what matters.” She nodded, wiping her eyes, and he pretended not to notice.

That night, he brought her to a rooftop arcade where his friends hung out. Kirishima was first, grinning wide. “Yo, you’re Bakugou’s secret neighbor? That’s so manly!” He clapped her shoulder, making her stumble. Mina swooped in, shoving a soda into Y/N’s hand. “Girl, you’re adorable! How’d you survive living next to this grump?” she teased, dodging Katsuki’s glare. Denki tried to show off at the claw machine, failing spectacularly, while Sero laughed and offered Y/N a turn. “Don’t let Sparky psych you out,” he said, winking. Jirou, quieter, handed Y/N a spare headphone. “Wanna hear what’s playing?” she asked. Y/N nodded, eyes wide as music flooded her ears—some upbeat hero anthem. “It’s so… alive,” she said, and Jirou smiled.

Katsuki hovered nearby, growling when Denki got too close or Mina teased too much. “Back off, idiots,” he snapped, but his friends just laughed. Y/N caught his eye during a lull, mouthing, Thank you. He looked away, cheeks pink. “Whatever.”

The night ended on a hill overlooking Musutafu, the city a sea of lights below. Y/N sat with her knees pulled up, the All Might keychain dangling from her fingers. “I didn’t know it could be like this,” she said, voice soft. “The world’s so big, Katsuki. And I’ve been… small.”

He sat beside her, hands in his pockets. “You’re not small,” he said gruffly. “You just didn’t know better. Now you do.” He paused, then added, quieter, “Don’t go back to that cage, alright? You don’t belong there.”

She turned to him, eyes glistening but fierce. “I won’t,” she said, like a vow. Her hand brushed his, just for a second, and he didn’t pull away. The city hummed below, alive and endless, and for the first time, the space between their windows felt like nothing at all.

When her mom came back, Y/N would face her, armed with the truth and the weight of a world she’d finally touched. Katsuki would be there, sparks at his palms, ready to fight for her freedom if it came to that. But for now, they sat together, her shoulder close to his, the keychain glinting between them—a small, sentimental anchor to the day she stepped out and found her place in the world.

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note: this was interesting to write, ive never written anything movie/book inspired! and i would totally do it again. requests open!

-made with loves n' kisses! 💋✨

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sugar-petals · 3 months ago

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Hi caro 🌹, following what you said in your previous post , you mentioned that Tom hardy is a soft type which I agree on and I get a feeling that he might be a soft natural too cause suits look like they're floating and they don't sit right on his body like what u said for Aaron taylor-johnson is . Emily browning is another case , I strongly believe she's a romantic or at the very least soft gamine . I like seeing them stand next to eachother in this movie ( the softness in their features and them being rahuvians in astrology make them complement eachother pretty well ! ) ( I want to add them to your list of couples so bad lol) thanks and have a swell day ☀️

emily browning is so yin! apple cheeks, full lips, rounded eyes, wavy wispy hair, soft jawline... naturals really do seem to come cast/coupled/teamed/shipped with romantic types frequently.

in a modern plot, the Natural is often painted as the active, Romantic as the passive part, until the roles switch; N is the facilitator for R to live their life how they please. "everything everything" in a nutshell: amandla stenberg = pure R, nick robinson = SN.

youtube

"love, simon" had picture-perfect N type clothing for nick, as if the costume department knew his kibbe ID. i think that's one of the reasons it blew up. jeans fabric, fleece, regular shirts, slightly longer but less sleek hair, casual > overstyling.

very subtly done, with soft lighting. which suits R, C, and N very well (DC is the exception, they are film noir). harsh lighting benefits sharp yang types on the other hand, so the G and D categories (SG as the exception, they are too yin), think eva green in sin city, the shadows of the blinds mimic her angular bones, creating harmony. she's been typed as D, SD, and TR, but in any case, she has yang bones. what do y'all think her type is? she is 5´7.

FN -TR with swapped expectations seems to be THE popular couple trope, btw. TR the strong, dominant, loveless, and hardened one, and FN the naively helpless romantic who's clumsy, shy, and often the sexualized part, even if we suspected it would be the TR! and they still have a hilarious height and size difference. FN is tall and burly, TR narrow and curvy. so, disney's hercules.

the D - G pairing axis tends to be a little edgier. especially as D is frequently a villain, contrarian, or antihero role, and G is the toiling protagonist on the hero's journey or the comedic relief. as soon as the "N with R, D with G" formula is broken, as "N with G, D with R", the couple is bittersweet, like katniss and peeta.

bonus: tom hardy has the typical "sharp shoulder sitting on top of nothing" menswear syndrome there: angled suits are for angled, pointy bones. naturals are too blunt-edged. that's why all of his well-known roles have character designs that sew the shoulders rounded, no pads, no classic construction.

#tom hardy #kibbe body types #nick robinson #kibbe #emily browning #kibbe types #mad max #batman #venom #hercules #megara #amandla stenberg #everything everything #love simon #simon #eva green #sin city #cub mail 🐅#ask

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