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inochinoyomikata · 2 years

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Inochi no Tabekata Part 0 Translation

Part #0- 過去＝．彼方 Past =. Beyond

Hold the bar with your right hand. Lightly gaining momentum, he went upside down with one hand. Put your left leg on the horizontal bar and lift your body at once.

Otogiri Tobi stood on the horizontal bar and folded his arms.

"Oi oi, Tobi..."

The backpack hanging on his left shoulder laughed in amazement.

"I'll tell you. Is it because you’re a bit eccentric? You're a strange guy from the looks of it, aren't you?"

Tobi pretended not to hear and looked around the small children's park. horizontal bar. slide. Two trees were planted. There were two benches. A drinking fountain. Outdoor lights. A two-seater swing.

A pair of boys were on a swing. Both were younger than Tobi. Fifth or sixth grade? Both of them had faces as if to say, ‘What is that junior high school student, scary?’

"Look!"

“Kek, kek, kek,” The backpack let out an obscene laugh.

Tobi clicked his tongue. Shut up, Baku, he just thought and didn't say. Those elementary school students can't hear Baku's voice. Tobi is the only one in the world that could talk to this backpack.

Tobi jumped off the horizontal bar.

"That’s needlessly agile, isn't it? You’re like a monkey."

Ignoring Baku, who never got tired of teasing him, he went up the slide this time.

The boys on the swing were no longer looking at Tobi. They were fiddling with a smartphone instead of swinging the swing.

Tobi crouched down on the slide. Back then, Tobi was probably about that tall.

The part that slides down was made of metal. It was a silver color with conspicuous dents. The yellow paint on the handrail was peeling off in places.

“…Could it be here?” Baku said in a whisper.

"How about that?"

Tobi answered in a whisper and turned up the left sleeve of his uniform. The liquid crystal display of the wristwatch he got from a recycle shop shows 4:59 p.m. Tobi was in middle school, and had not joined club activities, and had not attended cram school. The curfew at the facility is 5:30.

"You won’t be in on time if you don’t go home soon," Baku sneers.

Shut up. Thinking that, Tobi jumped off the slide.

The shadow of Tobi, who was carrying a backpack on his shoulder, was extremely long.

A chime started to ring. There was a small glow at sunset. A familiar melody. A familiar sound.

Tobi looked up at the dusky evening sky.

"...Piggyback"

"Ah? What?"

Instead of answering Baku's question, Tobi muttered repeatedly.

“Piggyback—”

---

That's it.

A piggyback.

He came to this park on his brother’s shoulders. His brother was singing something softly.

"Hey brother, what song is that?"

When Tobi asked, his brother laughed and dodged.

"What song is it?"

"Tell me."

Tobi pestered him by gently pulling his brother's ear.

"Hey tell me what song?"

"I made it."

"You did?"

"Ah, I made that song just now."

---

He remembers. Clearly. He remembered vividly.

A slide. Tobi played on that slide many times. His brother sat on the bench and watched him. He was slouching forward with his legs crossed and his eyes squinting. His brother was smiling.

He also rode the swing. The swing is a two-seater. His brother also got on the swing.

"……That's it"

"I'm not going."

The piggyback was on the way home.

Tobi’s brother carried him on his shoulders when he was tired from playing. His brother was singing another song on the way home with the glow of the setting sun.

"Tobi." Baku calls out.

"Hey, Tobi."

Tobi left the children's park without answering. In front of him was a two-story house. Right here? Or left? Where did my brother go that day? No. I don’t know.

For the time being, Tobi tried walking to the right. The road was so narrow that cars could barely pass each other. None of the buildings facing the road were very new. Some of the buildings were quite old.

There was a barbershop with red, blue, and white sign poles. The outer walls are dark green. The name of the shop is Barber Shop Hatsushima. Some things look familiar, some things don't.

"What is it?" Baku asks. Tobi shook his head without stopping.

"I'm looking for an apartment." He didn’t know the address, but it should be around here. The color was white-ish, and it was a two-story building with an outside staircase and an outside corridor. Tobi lived with his brother on the second floor of the apartment.

What number was it on the second floor? It was a corner room. He generally remembered what the room looked like. A black fence was installed outside the window, and his brother let him sit on it. The image of his older brother smoking a cigarette with his elbows on the fence was burned into his memory.

Tobi stopped in the middle of the T-junction. There was a manhole at his feet.

No matter which direction he looks, there is no view that sticks in his memory.

Eight or nine years have passed since then. Things might have changed in the meantime.

"What's going on, Tobi?" Baku says.

“So—” Tobi tried to hold back. "Shut up, you!"

It was impossible. He just yelled.

"...Don't get angry. That was my bad."

It's not like Baku to apologize. Tobi sighed and turned on his heel. It was at that time a blackened old block wall caught his eye. There was a corner on the other side of the fence. A black and dirty block wall. A corner.

Strangely curious, Tobi went over there. At the end of the corner was a fairly narrow alley, lined with one-story and two-story houses on both sides. The roadside was lined with potted plants, and the telephone poles were extremely thin. It looked like the power lines were covering the path. Tobi’s heart beat as if it were jumping up.

"Here - we passed..."

---

That day.

Tobi ran along that path. Not alone. He was with his brother. Tobi was being led by his older brother. He was in a hurry. Were they being chased? That's it. Someone was chasing Tobi and his brother. They were running away. Why?

Why were we being chased? I didn't even have time to think about that? He wondered. He couldn’t remember. Tobi wondered if his brother had explained what was going on. Or maybe his brother didn't understand either. He did not know. He was desperate anyway. That's it.

There was no one. It was dark. He didn't think it was pitch black. After sunset? Was it early morning? It could’ve been either.

The path came to a somewhat wider road. To the right, there are two shops with tents on the right and one on the left. Tobi and his brother probably ran on this road.

It must have been quite painful. Tobi was not running now. However, his chest hurt.

Tobi was sure he had whined many times. ‘Brother, I can't do it anymore. Impossible. It hurts and I can't run anymore. Stop it.’

His brother must have encouraged him. “Go for it, Tobi. I can run. You can still run.”

That's it.

I have to do my best.

Because brother said he could run.

After going through that road, Tobi came to a cobbled road instead of asphalt. It was an old shopping street. Most shops were shuttered. He didn't remember this shutter town. Did he take a wrong turn?

That's not it. It was an alley. His brother and Tobi entered the alley right there and passed through.

“What is this place, Tobi?” Baku pressed him. Tobi doesn't reply. He thinks it was here. There’s no doubt. Really?

Downtown, no distinctive features? In other words, it was an ordinary townscape. Was it really here?

Tobi’s brother finally picked him up. At that time, Tobi might have been crying, or he fell and couldn't get up. That's it. He fell here. His brother picked him up and ran.

"It's okay, Tobi!"

His brother's voice revived him.

He heard the sound of a car. There was a red light in the distance, and his brother said, "Shit!"

It was likely there were more than one or two people chasing Tobi and his brother. There were many.

---

"Stop!"

That's what he was told. It was a man's voice. Not now. It was around that time. However, Tobi suddenly stopped. He had a creepy feeling. How can he remember it so clearly? Tobi clung to his brother, who was holding him, and probably closed his eyes. He opened his eyes in surprise when the man said “stop” him in a threatening tone.

The man was standing there. The man was holding something in his hands. The object was pointing towards him. A loud noise resounded. A bursting sound. It sounded like a hard hit. What was that sound? He didn't know at the time. In retrospect, it must have been a gunshot.

The man had a gun. He fired at Tobi and his brother.

His older brother yelled, "Ah!" and staggered. At that time, he never thought that he had been shot with a gun. But something happened to his brother. Even Tobi understood that.

However, after that, his brother continued to run away while holding Tobi in his arms. His brother had a limp. He was clearly injured. It was hurting.

How long did they run away? Not tens of seconds or minutes. Dozens of minutes, or maybe more?

His brother ran into an alley between buildings. Before that, his brother had put him down. Tobi also remembered that he asked to be put down. In any case, Tobi was holding hands with his brother. It was very damp, kind of smelly, and filthy. A number of outdoor units of air conditioners protruded overhead like half roofs and were roaring.

His brother suddenly opened the door and pushed Tobi inside.

"Hide here."

"But brother..."

"Stay still until I say okay. Understood, Tobi? Promise me. Never raise your voice."

His brother was in the alley. Tobi was indoors. His brother was trying to close the door. Tobi was scared and anxious. If he did as as brother said, he would be alone. He refused. He didn't want to be alone. He wanted to be with his brother, he did not want him to leave.

But his brother was injured. It hurt the whole time and must have been tough. He was sure he was at his limit. He couldn’t.

Tobi was pulling his leg. He was a hindrance.

I don't want to be separated, and I don't want to be alone, but I have to obey, he thought.

“Yes.”

Tobi nodded and his brother put his index finger to his lips.

"Shhh."

He could hardly see his brother's face.

However, somehow, he felt like his brother was laughing at that time.

Tobi nodded once more, this time silently.

His brother closed the door. It got dark.

Tobi remembers that darkness.

It was not just dark. He could even feel the texture. That darkness had weight. It was so dark and he couldn’t see anything. Tobi was blindfolded by darkness. If the darkness covered Tobi’s eyes, nose, ears, and even his mouth, he would not be able to breathe. Darkness came to Tobi.

He felt like he was going crazy, so he put his ear to the door and heard the sounds outside. The outdoor unit is humming. He was a little relieved to hear that sound. The darkness had not completely blocked his ears yet.

He immediately heard another sound. Could it have been the sound of footsteps? He heard a loud noise.

And also a voice.

Someone was yelling. Was it his brother? Could it be another person?

Of course, Tobi wanted to go outside. He put his hand on the door knob. He was on the verge of opening it, and he hesitated many times.

"Hide here." His brother ordered him to do so. Tobi nodded when asked to make a promise. He couldn’t break his promise to his brother. He couldn’t do that.

But in the end, I was scared.

He was so terrified that all he could do was hold his breath in that darkness.

Before he knew it, Tobi was crouching down. He waited for his brother.

His brother would definitely come back. ‘It's okay, that's enough, Tobi,’ he’d call out to him. Tobi believed in his brother. He had to believe.

It was probably a stairway that was closed in darkness. The stairs lead down and down. Maybe anywhere. Down to the bottom of the earth.

At times, he sensed that something was moving beyond the darkness. Each time, Tobi almost screamed. He managed to suppress it and called out to his brother in his heart.

Brother.

Help me, Brother.

Come back, brother.

Come back soon, brother.

Please, I'm begging you, brother.

Brother.

I'll be waiting here Because I promised I'd do what you said. Brother──

Tobi wondered how long he had been waiting for his brother, shivering in the darkness, perhaps dozing off, and suddenly waking up.

Three hours?

Four hours?

Ten hours?

More than that?

Half a day?

One day?

Maybe two days?

Even more?

“──T……”

Suddenly, there was the sound of the door opening, and light flooded in. It was dazzling. For a moment, his eyes hurt. It didn't matter.

"Brother!"

Tobi climbed the stairs. The door was still open. He went out from there. It smelled like a ditch. The alley was paved with concrete. Dirty and cracked concrete with red stains.

It's blood.

──He thought.

Whose blood is it? No way.

No way, brother.

"There's no way." Tobi was on the stairs leading to the dark basement. He was alone. Someone opened the door from outside. Who opened it?

"Brother"

That's it. His brother. His brother opened the door. He decided. His brother is back. He came to pick him up.

Tobi searched for his brother. He must be somewhere. If it was his brother who opened the door, it would be strange if he wasn't right next to him.

"Oh..."

There. A man stood near the exit of the alley. But that, Tobi shuddered. Wrong.

You're not my brother.

The man was facing Tobi. He was tall and wore a hat. At that time, Tobi didn't really know what kind of hat it was. But that hat must’ve been a silk hat. The man wore a scarf and a long black coat.

The problem was the man's face.

The eyes.

There is only one.

No, it's just the eye.

One eye.

That was the man's face.

It's not the centerpiece. It's just the eyes. If Tobi wasn’t mistaken, the man's face, one eye, blinked. It means that there was something like an eyelid.

The one-eyed man had a bag or something on his shoulder. He didn't seem to have anything else.

At least he wasn't holding a gun. It's not the guys who were chasing Tobi and his brother. He had a feeling it wasn't something like that.

After all, he had one eye.

Or it could be something more dangerous, scary, or mysterious. After all, he had one eye.

The one-eyed man slowly took off his bag from his shoulder and held it out towards Tobi. Accept it, the behavior seemed to say.

Tobi immediately shook his head. The one-eyed man looked suspicious, and he didn't recognize the bag either. He couldn’t take that kind of thing.

Before long, the one-eyed man lowered his face slightly. After that, he bent down and gently put the bag on the ground.

A bag.

It was probably a bag.

It had a strap so you could put it on your shoulder or carry it on your back. It was a big bag.

Tobi stared at the bag for a while.

When he woke up, the one-eyed man was gone. Nowhere. He's gone. It's as if the one-eyed man never existed.

But I can't pretend it wasn't there.

I have proof.

That bag was left behind.

It was left behind by the one-eyed man.

"Because of him..."

Tobi suddenly felt like crying.

It's because of him, that one-eyed man. Because he opened the door, Tobi accidentally went outside. He should have waited until his brother came back. Because of the one-eyed man, Tobi broke his promise to his brother.

Tobi was originally a crybaby. He often cried for no good reason. When Tobi started crying, his brother hugged him tightly. His brother didn't tell him not to cry.

‘Don't cry, Tobi. You can cry as much as you like.’

For some reason, tears came to his eyes when he remembered his brother's words.

Since then, Tobi has never cried again.

After some hesitation, Tobi reached out for the bag the one-eyed man had left behind. When he picked it up, it was light for its size. Even Tobi, who was only five years old at the time, was able to carry the strap over his left shoulder like the one-eyed man did.

Strangely, he felt like he wasn't alone.

The red stain continued to the outside of the alley.

“My brother is injured.”

Tobi was convinced.

The stain was his brother's blood.

His brother may have intended to scatter the pursuers on his own. He was sure he was going to come back after making sure it was safe. But something happened and he couldn't come back.

In that case, Tobi should go to his brother's place.

"I have to search for him–"

#inochi no tabekata #inochi no tabekata translation #e ve

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holidayspackagesglh · 9 months

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pohtiongho · 1 year

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Oppressed Labourer

Young Bala came from Afghanistan when he was a kid. His father started a tailoring shop in Singapore before World War II. Bala who was small in size was always looked upon as the pigmy of the class. He completed his primary education in an English medium school. He used to try very hard to join the primary school football team and his training in other games and athletic events were persistent. After trying hard and failed to be selected for any team to represent his school, he diverted his attention to something else. He made himself the Sports Officer of the Singapore Association of Youths. Expensive dance tickets were sold every month.

One Saturday morning, a student knocked on David's door.

" Good morning, Sir. Would you like to buy a dance ticket?"

In order to please this innocent girl, David bought one even though he knew it meant more drink and smoke for the organizer.

The following month, David's door was knocked again. This time, a man with two Form 5 girls were there.

"Mr. David, would you like to contribute to the National Disaster Fund?" Bala asked.

" I'll donate only if you show me the official permit from the government," David answered.

Bala apologized and hurried off. The two girls thought they met another nasty guy.

" Don't you think he had been rude?" Carol whispered when they reached the car.

" Yes, indeed he was very rude. We should not see him again," Bala answered.

" Why didn't you bring the letter from the O.C.P.D.?" Carol enquired ignorantly.

" I forgot it."

Many months passed. No one knew about the fund raising incident. During a cricket match, Bala met David, who was the bowler from the education team. When the ball went too far from the sticks, Bala would deliberately boo sarcastically.

" David. Go back to Pulau Ubin. It's your best place," Bala commented half jokingly.

" Why didn't you remain in Afghanistan eating tapioca?" David began to show his temper.

At 12 pm, the match ended not too happily. All the players, went as usual, to the recreation club which was just next to the field. David ordered a roast chicken and some rice. The steaming fowl made saliva poured and the more intelligent ones started to sip their tea. That was why I didn't enjoy going to restaurants where the service was slow. Bala, whose salivary gland was most activated, made himself invited.

" Pull a chair and sit down, " David invited him as he was standing by the side of the table, and pulled a drum stick for the guest who devoured it straight away. Sweat rolled down from his forehead and his face was wet.

David sympathized with this unpleasant personality. After all, every living being must have the Buddha nature too.

" Would you like to have a dance ticket?" Bala murmured.

"Why ? You should give me one free of charge, for that drum stick."

" I didn't say you must pay for this ticket?" Bala took that ticket from the table and went away. He knew that it was too obvious he had to move to another locality.

This young man shifted over to JB ( in Malaysia) and made himself the chairman of the hockey association there. Unpaid position sometimes are more lucrative than the salaried position He was able to make some money by marking up the articles for the association which he volunteered to purchase.

After spending the life of a tramp, Bala eventually decided he should take a wife. He came back to Punggol and talk to his mother about it. Singapore was not a good hunting ground for him though there were more marriageable females than males.

"Son. They were saying to find a wife was as easy as getting a pebble on the road," the mother comforted him.

" But mother, I don't like those silly girls here. For example, they laughed at us. They said our atap house was built of palm leaves and baku wood, and that it was standing on another person's land."

" Son, if you don't want to be hurt, no one will be successful in hurting you. Roger may be able to introduce you one from Malaysia."

" Won't he laugh at me?"

"No. I'll tell him Bala refused to get married because they were no eligible girls here. For example, your horoscope and their horoscope cannot match."

" Excellent, Mother," Bala's face brightened. He knew Roger would not fail him.

Roger, a young teacher was then invited to the humble hut of this family.

" Your mother told me you had not found a suitable partner in Singapore?"

"Oh, those silly girls. How could I ever settle down with any of them?"

Roger went to spend his Easter holiday in Malaysia. He was wondering if he should recommend a Chinese, Malay, or Indian? Malaysians were materialistic. It was a fact that if a non-Chinese wanted to marry a Chinese girl, he must be rich. Malay girls adored only gallant knights. Poor Bala would never have a chance. Roger eventually concluded that an Indian girl was the answer. Roger went to JB to hunt for the suitable girl who would accept the photo of Bala.

" I can recommend you a sexy one from my estate," Joe studied hard on that teacher.

"How much can you offer ? My share and her mother's ?"

" Doesn't she have a father?"

" Her father was involved in flying a small plane to smuggle in heroin from Thailand to Malaysia. He escaped a few trips but one day as the plane was landing on a beach during low tide, it ran over a boulder and he was killed. You can take her if you offer me RM

2000 and another RM 2000 for her mother. I can easily persuade her since I'm the boss here. Her employment is at my pleasure."

The sum was paid.

" She is yours by tonight. Have a good time, my dear friend."

At the Tanjong Pagar to welcome Joan and Roger were Bala and his mother.

" Look, mother, that's the girl," Bala pointed at Roger and Joan.

" Yes, son. Roger is surely a good fellow."

Roger went his way after handing over the girl to the waiting man. Bala hired a taxi to return to Punggol with Joan and his mother.

" Joan, how do you like our small house?" Bala asked.

" I'm not suppose to comment, mum told me before I left JB."

" This place will be very prosperous within a few years. The government had planned to build a MRT here. I 'm sure by then the huge shopping malls, schools, and others would be constructed. We are very lucky to be living at this location."

In the evening, the family went to have dinner at the food court. They dined silently. Joan adapted herself well, though inwardly she was very worried. A thousand and one

questions struck her. Bala, with a new tie on his neck, looked proud. Every now and then, he liked to look aside, as if posing for a cameraman. His shirt sleeves were too long for him. He strolled slowly but elegantly along the street. They came to a bench under a tree. He cleaned it for the lady to sit down.

" Singapore is a wonderful place. Before I arrived, I thought you had pick-pockets rushing about the town."

The crescent moon hang at about 40 degrees on the sky. On the water surface, the moonlight beams were wavering. Cars speeded by behind the bench, just about three feet away.

" You fellows drive as fast as those in JB."

" Any fool can drive fast," Bala told her.

They returned home by the last bus that night. The poor mother who left earlier walked home as that was her method of saving some money. The marriage was fine and Joan did enjoyed it as a lady should. Unfortunately, Bala began to get frustrated. First off all, he could not find more money to lead a better life. Fate was deadly against him. He strived hard but was only able to make ends meet. Joan helped the family by doing laundry work. This meant better foods and clothes. Bala's drinking habit got worse.

Years passed. Bala's mother died of old age, just like his father. Nothing in this universe remains unchanged. The family consisted of only husband and wife. The family went to a temple to supplicate, thinking that Joan was not fertile. Surprisingly, Joan conceived after the temple visit and nine months later, a daughter was born. The devas do help us at times, don’t they ? They named her Sheila.

Bala had been a construction worker and only started to have problem with the daughter when she was nine years old.

" Why don't you teach in school like Mr. Chung and Mr. George ?" the inquisitive daughter asked him.

" Why? Am I not doing a honourable job?"

" But teachers said all labourers were uneducated. They said if we didn't work hard we would be labourers one day."

" Who said so?" the furious father clenched his fists.

" Mr. Chung and Mr. George."

The agitated father rushed to the quarters of Mr. Chung and Mr. George, both were bachelors.

"You're Chung and George? Why did you tell my daughter labourers were uneducated?"

" I'm sorry. I said that to encourage my students to work harder. I didn't mean to insult anybody," George replied.

" Didn't you infer at me?"

" No, I didn't even know you."

" I'm Bala, Sheila's father."

"Glad to know you Bala. She is a smart girl."

"Next time you insult me again, I'll knock some teeth out of your bloody big mouth."

" There is nothing wrong in being labourers. My father was one and so was Mr. George's father," Chung who was impatient joined in.

" You bloody Chinaman. You think you're smart because you 're a teacher?"

Bala wheeled and walked off. He came home very much relieved. Sheila was waiting for him at the gate which was in front of the house.

" Where did you go, papa?"

" I went to see your stupid teachers."

The tired man went to sleep after dinner. At 11 o'clock that night he had to work again but the overtime pay was good so Bala did not mind at all. Joan filled his metal can with black coffee and got ready the basket and the safety hat in case he woke up late and started shouting again.

The next morning he came home mentally and physically exhausted as the engine noise at the construction site nearly deafened him. He spent the whole morning in bed. In the afternoon he went off to work again. That afternoon, the Exploration Society of Punggol Primary School organized a trip to visit a building site. It was a coincident that Sheila was in the group and the site was where Bala worked. This construction site occupied about 100 acres and was the then biggest construction site in Singapore. Mr.Tan the general manager took the group of the students and the teacher Mr. Matai to the various places of interest. On the way Bala was seen carrying two bags of cement on his back. He stopped to call his daughter Sheila. Sheila ignored him and moved on with the group. The

man's eyes were filled with tears and he took the two bags on his back again. The engines seemed to roar louder. No one noticed him. The hurt father came home that night, storming the daughter and the mother.

"You donkey. Why didn't you answer me?" he pulled the girl by the hair, her face thus tilted up.

"Let her go. What had she done?" the wife yelled at him.

" Why? She was ashamed of her own father."

"Does that matter?"

"I struggled and sweated hoping to bring up a good family and here I'm, rejected by my own daughter."

The building project was near completion. Bala was transferred to work at the wharf. He loved his new place as he could have a lung-full of fresh air. Moreover, there were the roaring waves which he enjoyed watching. The terrible heat from the fierce hot sun was not felt as much as at the construction site. He remained a labourer here for several years mainly because all foremen he worked for used to write very bad reports about him, accusing him of not safety conscious, stealing company articles from the incoming cargoes, laziness, not able to corporate with the colleages etc. In actual fact, the company properties were stolen by the foremen and the security guards. Some people say good people die young. Perhaps they were right. Joan died at the age of 29, when Sheila was only 13. Sheila had to leave school and grew up overnight taking over the mother's place of housekeeping.

Bala did not seem to miss his wife. He went on with his job as usual and was probably much happier now because there was no one to complain about his drinking habit. Every day he would spend half of what he received on beer, all the time taking it with his cronies at the local cafeteria at about 6 pm. before he came home to rest.

One stormy night, Bala came home after loading a ship that was leaving at midnight. Lightning flashed and thunders banked in the sky. Torrential rain poured as if the earth must be flooded. Bala was soaking wet when he reached home. He bathed, took a light meal and went to sleep. There being only one room in the hut, he slept in the sitting room on a canvas bed. Sheila's room was forced open by the wind. This adolescent had the body of a matured lady. Bala's sexual desire was aroused when he saw the sleeping girl. He did not have enough money to frequent the brothels. There was no solution. He entered the room and undressed her. The lightning was followed by a big bank. The rain poured more heavily. Sheila woke up and asked.

" What do you want, Papa?"

" Not anything."

Sheila tried to put on her dress but Bala took it and threw it away. He jumped on her. THe thunder bolt was brilliant as it passed from the clouds to the earth. It was about 2 inches in diameter, and about 200 meters long. The banging sound was deaftening. Was it trying to kill someone? When he had his tension released, he left the room, leaving the girl crying. From that day onward she had to submit. In order to help the family expenses, Sheila worked in a coffee bar. This hard working and frugal beauty attracted the owner who threatened to expel her if she refused his advances. So she had to entertain whenever the owner wished. She grew up that way, seeing nothing in these scoundrels except their sexual greed, which grew more and more intense every day. What else could the country men understand except the temporal enjoyment?

At the age of 18, there were many young men who wanted to marry her. She rejected all partly because her father was still living and partly because men were only vicious brutes to her. She found more happiness in solitude. One limping gentleman came in to introduce himself as a Construction Company owner from Luyang Offshore Supply Base. He was Chinese and he wanted Sheila to be his second wife. He thought his income could attract her but didn't know the lady had no greed for his money. Sheila refused to offer her body for money and begged the man to invite other girls instead. But this rich man said he was in love with her and he offered his condo keys and the key to his BMW telling her to make use of the BMW and the condo whenever she wanted to. All her colleagues said she was stupid to turn down such a good offer. Was she ?

"You will be rich if your marry him, Sheila" one of the senior colleagues advised her.

" No, I don't like his behaviour. The first time he met me in this shop he asked me how much I would charge him for one shot (meaning to have one sexual session with him). I have no respect for people like this and I don't need much money in this life. Let me wait for a better man."

One Friday night, Sheila was personally informed that her father was knocked down by a lorry at a pedestrians crossing. He died on the spot, leaving Sheila to start her own life. The police report said that the traffic light was green and the lorry driver was running at only 50 km per hour. The driver had another passenger on the front seat to be the witness. Dead man cannot talk.

End

2810 words

#youtube #sex;orgasm;love; corruption; poor management;#rape

0 notes

intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

The Great Academia Road Trip, Part 1 (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: Class 1-A (plus Shinsou) is going on a road trip! In this first installment, Bakugou contemplates how he's going to get Deku back for cornering him before, having a little fun with the nerd along the way.

A/N: Welcome to the first official mini-series within the Primary Universe! I was hoping to do this more in the middle of summer than towards the end, but better late than never! I hope you enjoy taking a road trip with the students of Class 1-A - with plenty of tickling included! ^^

Shoutout to @ticklishscumbag for the "Bakugou loves strawberry milk" headcanon that is briefly referenced here.

Word Count: 1,796

**SPOILER ALERT:** This fic contains spoilers from Season 5 of the anime. (Below the cut.)

~~~

The door to Bakugou’s dorm room slammed open.

“Road trip!”

“What the—?!” Bakugou yelled, instinctively shoving his covers off and scrambling to his feet, heart racing from the anticipation of an oncoming battle. When he saw it was just Kirishima, he clutched his chest and yelled, “Kiri, you idiot! You gave me a heart attack!”

“Forget that,” Kiri replied easily, bounding inside with a huge grin on his face. “It’s road trip time! Where’s your bag? You packed it already, right?”

“Freakin’ – yeah, it’s over there.” The blonde gestured to his closet. “God dang, Kirishima.”

Kiri laughed, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “Sorry, dude. I’m just so excited, and we’re leaving in less than an hour! How could you still be asleep? Get dressed! Eat some breakfast! We’re gonna hit the rooooad!”

Bakugou grumbled as he shoved Kirishima back out his door, barely registering that his friend had grabbed his bag on his way out. Still, he couldn’t help but smile once he was alone. Today was the day. Their entire class – along with Shinsou, who would be entering the hero course next year – were taking a month-long trip around the country as both part of their training and as a vacation. Officially, they were touring the different prefectures and meeting the top heroes across the nation, learning how things worked in different places and sometimes even helping out if needed. Unofficially, they were getting away from the stress of school and the League of Villains for a while, making stops at popular tourist locations and having some down time to balance out the work they’d still be doing.

No rest for the weary, but honestly, Bakugou was looking forward to this trip just as much as Kirishima and the rest of the class were. He couldn’t wait to meet pro heroes in other prefectures, beat up some bad guys, and take a dip in the pool at the end of their long days. It was going to be great.

But first, he had to get dressed.

Downstairs, the entire dorm was alive with activity. It seemed everyone was either finishing up breakfast or hauling their gear out to the bus that was already waiting outside. Bakugou made a mental note to ask Kiri if he’d actually gotten his luggage all the way out there before they left. In the meantime, he headed to the fridge, hoping Sato hadn’t taken the last strawberry milk.

It was still there. He grinned, grabbed it, and twisted open the cap.

Just beyond his hearing range in the living room stood Iida, Kaminari, Ojiro, Shinsou, and stupid Deku. Bakugou narrowed his eyes. He still hadn’t gotten the nerd back for tickling him to death while he was trapped under his bed last week. He was rather looking forward to finding ways to mess with him on this trip in retaliation.

“Baku-bro!” Sero said by way of greeting, slapping him on the back. “Good morning! Ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” Bakugou took a swig of strawberry milk, savoring the flavor, trying not to let it show how much he loved it. “Where’s Kiri?”

“Probably taking Mina’s bag out to the bus. He already grabbed mine and his own.”

“Mine, too.”

Sero laughed. “He’s pretty excited.”

“Yeah, well…” Bakugou shrugged. “It’s a good opportunity.”

“I take it that means you’re excited, too? Good! It wouldn’t be any fun if you were a grump the whole time. Though we have ways of making you cheer up nowadays, don’t we?” Sero winked, nudged him, and moved on to the next person, greeting them enthusiastically as he made his way to the front door.

Bakugou scowled. He supposed he would have been stupid to think he’d get a break from his own torture just because they were on a tour of the country. Oh, well. As long as no one else found out, he’d survive.

He took another drink just as Deku suddenly broke away from his group and hurried past him toward his own dorm room.

Must have left some All Might backpack or something, he thought, grunting. Stupid nerd.

Somehow, despite the fact that it was obvious the two of them didn’t get along, Bakugou wound up seated next to Shinsou right in the middle of the bus. Kaminari had practically shoved him into the taller boy’s lap, much to both of their annoyance.

“Bakugou,” Shinsou greeted coolly, polite but not much more than that.

The blonde bit his tongue to resist calling him a mind-reader again. “Shinsou.”

After that, the two lapsed into silence as the bus finished loading, pulled out of the school grounds, and made its way onto the highway.

It was a long, grueling twenty minutes before Bakugou finally sighed angrily and got up, turning on his heel to stride toward the back of the bus to where Kiri and Deku were sharing a seat.

He interrupted their conversation without an apology. “Deku, switch with me.”

Deku blinked. “What?”

“Swap seats with me. You’re friends with that freak from 1-C, right?”

“He’s not a freak. And yes, we’re friends.”

“Then swap with me. I don’t want to be near him.”

Kirishima gave him a withering look. “You’ll have to get used to having him around sooner or later. When he joins the hero course, there’s a fifty percent chance he’ll be in our class.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

Deku poked his head up over the seat in front of him, glancing to where Shinsou now sat alone. He stood to do as Bakugou asked, but before he could even get a step down the aisle, Kirishima shot out in front of him, declaring, “I’ll sit with him! I never get to talk to the guy.”

“Wait – I don’t want to sit with stupid Deku, either!” Bakugou yelled. “What are you doing?”

Kiri turned back to him. “It’s Shinsou or Midoriya. Take your pick.”

Bakugou gritted his teeth, growled, and shoved Deku down into the seat he’d just vacated. “Fine. Move over, nerd.”

Deku smiled, scooting over to the window seat to allow the blonde to sit with him while Kiri moved up to join Shinsou.

More silence.

“You’re not going to make it, you know,” Bakugou said at last, crossing his arms.

Deku startled. “What?”

“To the end of the trip. You won’t make it back.”

“Why?”

“Because you declared war, idiot. And I’m not going to lose to you.”

The greenette was silent for a long moment, seeming lost. Then it clicked, and his face brightened. “Yeah? Well, I’m not losing to you, either. So where does that leave us?”

“With you begging me for mercy.”

“Or you begging me.”

“Never.”

Deku smirked, then glanced out the window at the passing scenery. Bakugou smirked, too. This was going to be an interesting road trip for the both of them.

Several hours later – after they’d arrived at their first destination, unloaded, trained, had dinner, and were wrapping up for the day – Bakugou stood just inside the door of the four-person room he was sharing with Kirishima, Tokoyami, and Shoji, waiting patiently. Any minute now, Deku would pop into the hall on his way to the shared bathroom to clean up before bed, and he’d pass Bakugou’s room on his way to do so. It was just a matter of time now.

There he was.

Bakugou reached into the hall, grabbing Deku by the back of his shirt and pulling him into the currently empty room, throwing him onto a bedroll. Then he pounced, climbing on top of him and digging his fingers into his sides, ribs, and underarms in rapid succession.

Deku burst into hysterical giggles, shocked and confused for just a moment before his brain caught up to what his body was feeling. “Ahahahahahahaha Kacchan! Nahahahahahahaha!”

“So about this tickle war you’ve so stupidly decided to start with me, nerd.” Bakugou spoke casually, though he smirked at his friend’s useless attempts to get away. “How do we know who’s won? Begging for mercy doesn’t seem like enough, since I get you to do that anyway during our normal tickle fights.”

“I-I mahahahahahake you beheheheheg, too!” Deku protested, earning a sharp jab into his hip bone for his trouble. He squealed and laughed. “NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“Like I was saying, I don’t think it’s enough to end a tickle war. What exactly was your plan going into this?”

“I dohohohohohohon’t knohohohohohow!” Deku writhed on the ground, smiling wide and pushing at Bakugou’s hands weakly. “I dihihihihidn’t thihihihihihihink about it!”

“Well, think now.”

“I cahahahahahahahan’t! Y-You’re distrahahahahacting me!”

Bakugou hummed, swinging a leg over to straddle Deku and reach up into his underarms, drawing out a fresh burst of laughter and kicking. “Better come up with some excuse.”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHA KACCHAHAHAHAHAHAN!!”

“Is it because you can never beat me on your own? You’ve got to use furniture to help you come out on top?” Bakugou half-mocked, half-teased. “Is that why you decided it was smart to challenge me like that?”

“IT WAS JUHUHUHUHUHUST – JUST AN OPP-P-PFFAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Deku tossed his head back and laughed freely, still trying to push Bakugou away with whatever strength he had left after the long day and the surprise tickle attack. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“Opportunity? Is that what you were trying to say?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHES!!”

“Interesting. An opportunity to come after me while I was completely helpless, right?” Bakugou left his underarms at last, trailing back down to his sides and belly. “Because that’s the only way you can really win against me.”

“P-Plehehehehehease,” Deku whined, looking up at him with mirthful but tired eyes. “Lehehehet me gohohohoho, Kacchan…”

Bakugou thought a moment, then relented entirely, grabbing Deku’s wrists and pinning them down by his head, looming over him. “I’ll let you go for now, nerd, since the others will be back soon. But you’d better start watching your back extra closely from now on, because when I catch you, I will not show mercy until you’re pleading for it.”

Deku’s eyes widened, but he nodded, and Bakugou released him and stood up just as Tokoyami returned from the bathroom.

“Midoriya,” he said, “I’m fairly certain sleepovers are not allowed.”

“Oh, n-no, I was just…” Deku trailed off, then laughed and got to his feet. “Ah, never mind. I’ve still got to get ready for bed. Night, guys!” And he hurried out of the room, waving as he went.

Tokoyami turned to Bakugou. “Why was Midoriya here?”

Bakugou scoffed. “Stupid nerd wanted to get his butt handed to him, that’s what.” The blonde flopped onto his own bedroll and turned toward the wall, facing away from Tokoyami and the door.

“All right, then…” Tokoyami muttered, then went blissfully silent.

Bakugou grinned at the wall.

This was going to be the best road trip ever.

~~~

Part 2

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #road trip #katsuki #bakugou #izuku #midoriya #deku #tickling #ticklish #tickle

110 notes · View notes

wafflefries13 · 4 years

Text

The Consequences of Late Night Calls

Happy birthday to the world’s best blasty boy!

This is the first fic I’ve written for tumblr, so let me know what you think!

Warnings: None, I think. Some cursing, some guy talks smack for a bit.

Genre: Fluff

~~~~~~~~~~

The call shocked you out of a deep but impromptu sleep. You jerked up from the noise, a page of lecture notes sticking to your check. It fluttered back to the desk covered in its own mess of loose leaf documents, used textbooks that cost more than a weekend trip to Disney World, and a laptop missing three of its letter keys.

You dragged your tongue against your teeth, trying to get rid of the cotton feel coating the inside of your mouth. Rubbing stars into your tired eyes, you wondered when exactly you had fallen asleep. Was it somewhere near memorizing the latin terminology for court rhetoric or around reading the case file and trial records you were going to be tested over on Monday? Deciding wondering was basically pointless, considering you had pretty much forgotten all of it anyway, you pawed blindly around for your phone.

“Hello?” You answered, eyes still closed, although it probably came out and more of a mumbled groan than anything else.

“(Y/NNNNNNNNN)!”

You pulled the phone away from your ear, wincing at the sudden loud noise. Blinking bleerally, you looked down at your phone. You had taken the caller ID picture a year ago, at a sorority Halloween party you barely remembered aside from the copious amounts of alcohol consumed followed by an ill-advised scavenger hunt that ended with a call to the police and the dean’s car somehow ending up in the agriculture department’s greenhouse crowded with Jack-O-lanterns. It was a profile shot of Bakugo Katsuki, his mouth opened in a mid-yell scowl, as was his standard expression, and eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. One hand extended to try and block the camera, the other clutching a brown bottle. He was wearing a fantasy barbarian king costume, chest bare to show off the taut muscles he worked so hard for all of high school to get. When he’d shown up in it, or, rather, when Kirishima had dragged him along in his own dragonborn costume, you couldn’t believe he still had it. You remembered sitting in your basement in 9th grade, pricking your fingers with a sewing needle as you and the rest of your newly formed D&D group, Bakugo and Kirishima included, spent way too much time and effort into creating your costumes.

Rubbing at the bridge of your nose in a vain attempt to chase away the headache you could already feel forming, you brought the phone back to your ear. You could hear the low thump of bass heavy music in the background.

“Hi, Suki,” You said, trying not to sound condescending, but it came out like that anyway.

“Hey!” He said sharply. The rest of his reply was slurred smooth. “I told you not to call me that.”

You smirked. “It’s cute.”

“It’s embarrassing! ‘M not cute.”

“No, you’re calling me at-” You pulled the phone away again to check the time. “Katsuki, it’s like two in the morning, what the hell?”

You heard someone shout something on the other side of the line that Katsuki mumbled a reply to. To you he said, “Was thinking about you.”

You felt yourself blush despite yourself. “You were thinking about me?”

There was a clunk and a bump. You could imagine him falling against a wall and sliding down to sit until the room stopped spinning. “Yeah. I don’t like it.”

You ignored the jab in your heart. “Well, thanks.”

“It keeps happening. I’ll just be, like, doing stuff, and then I just think, ‘What would (Y/N) think of that?’ ‘I wonder what (Y/N)’s doing right now.’ ‘(Y/N) would know what to do now. She’s so smart. And her hands look so soft. And her eyes are so pretty.’” He was quiet for a second. “It’s annoying. I can’t stop thinking about you. And it’s worse when you’re here.” There was a shuffling as you heard him try to stand up then give up again. “Why aren’t you here? I want you here.”

You were wide awake now. You clenched and unclenched your hand, trying to process the information your obviously drunk friend had just confessed. Your stomach churned in a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and straight up butterflies.

What the hell did all of that mean? Well, of course you knew what it meant, or you knew what it meant when spoken by a sober person of sound mind and body. But there was no way, you tried to rationalize, that The Bakugo Katsuki, the guy you’d known since freshman year of high school when he’d punched a guy who had flipped up your uniform skirt on the first day, the guy who had surprised just about everyone in home economics when he busted out a three tiered cake like it was no one’s business, the guy whos ego was big enough to have its own gravitational pull, was confessing his feelings to you in a drunk rant at two in the morning.

“Katsuki,” You said in a soft voice. “I-”

There was a retching sound from the other end of the line. Katsuki coughed, tried to say something, then threw up again. “Aw, fuck.”

That headache was back with avengence now. You sighed, looking for your keys. “Katsuki, where are you?”

“Uhh, on campus? At the Kappa Alpha Betta Whatever house. There’s a party. Why aren’t you here?”

“You know I hate all the Greek life bs. Stay where you are, okay? I’m coming to get you. You’re completely wasted.”

“‘M not. I can handle what I drink.” There was another pause before he wretched again.

“Did you just throw up again?”

“...No.”

“Cool. I’ll be there in ten.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond before hanging it. You didn’t think your heart could take it if he kept going on like he had been. Grabbing your keys and heading out of your crowded studio apartment, you hopped in your car to go save your drunk friend from making any other ill advised decisions that night.

You realized that you were probably over thinking the whole phone call as you drove through deserted streets. You couldn’t help it, it was a bad habit you had formed as a kid that now made you obsess over court documents and testimonies in class. But now, instead of helping, it was picking you apart. What did Katsuki’s tone imply when he was talking to you just now? Could you trust the tone of an inebriated person? What did he mean when he said he thought about you a lot? You’d known each other for years now, being involved in almost all the same activities. Wouldn’t it be natural to think about someone you spent so much time with? But you’d known Kirishima for just as long, not to mention the rest of the self-named “Baku-Squad.” You’d never gotten a late night drunk call from any of them. Heck, Katsuki had known Izuku way longer than he had known you, and you were pretty dang sure Katsuki had never called him going on and on about how he always thought about him.

Stopping at a red light, you pressed your forehead into the soft faux-leather of your steering wheel, willing your thoughts to calm down and just come to a rational conclusion already. Expect, you know, a rational conclusion that wasn’t that the guy you had carried a torch for for almost as long as you had known him might actually have feelings for you back.

You turned on to the street lined with sororities and fraternities across from the main campus. You had to slam on your breaks almost immediately to avoid running over a tipsy, giggling co-ed who was stumbling out into the road. She didn’t even look up at you.

You didn’t know exactly which house Katsuki was stranded at, considering you could see at least three different parties all going on at first glance. His “Kappa Alpha Betta Whatever” wasn’t very helpful, either, considering all the Greek letters adorning the houses blended together in your mind at some point. And you really didn’t want to tramp through a bunch of different houses tonight.

Thankfully, you were saved the trouble when you saw Kirishima’s 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle park half off the curb in front of one of the houses. You’d know that car anywhere. Kirishima had dragged your group to various scrap yards and auto-repair stores all summer after he got his license, the first of you all to do so, in an effort to fix up the worn down Chevelle that he’d bought for a hundred bucks and a turkey sandwich.

You parked on the other side of the street then jogged across to the house that was practically vibrating with heavy music and Greek life energy. Stepping over a semi-conscious frat boy laying in the doorway, you scanned around the house for any sign of Katsuki’s pomeranian-puff-ball hair.

You spotted Denki lounging on a couch, a lampshade on his head and a tangle of phone chargers clutched in his fist. His hand sparked every now and then as he used his quirk to recharge the collection of phones.

You lifted up the edge of the lampshade. “Hey there, Pikachu.”

“Heeeeeey~” He said, giving you a thumbs up. You could already tell he was too far gone, although you didn’t know if it was from drinking or the over use of his quirk.

“(Y/N)!” You heard a voice call behind you. A body fell heavily against your back. Sero wrapped his arms around you in a backwards hug. “Where you been? We missed you!”

“Studying. I’m boring, remember? I’m looking for Katsuki, you seen him around?”

Sero snickered. “Bakugo, huh? He’s been looking for you for a long time, right, Denki?”

“Heeeeeey~”

You swallowed hard. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Sero snickered again, flopping on the couch next to Denki. “Can’t tell. Part of the bro code. And he said he’d kill me.”

“That does sound like Katsuki.”

Sero covered his eyes with his arm, head leaning back. With a wide smile, he waved his hand in the vague direction to the back door. “I think he’s out by the pool or something.”

You waved bye. “Thanks, I’ll go check it out. You guys take care of yourselves, okay?”

“Look at ‘em go,” Sero said to Denki as you left. “You think they’ll have a spring wedding?”

“Heeeeeey~”

*~~~~*

You managed to weave your way through the crowd of bodies clogging the house to finally spill out into the back yard. You had no idea how people were able to stay this energized this late into the night with this many other people around. You remembered once being stuck at another party, early on in your college days. When it became super clear you didn’t want to be there, overwhelmed by the noise, the crush of bodies, and the suffocation of social enterprise, Katsuki had dragged Kirishima over to you, planting him in front of you as your ‘extrovert shield.’ He’d stayed with you behind the boisterous redhead for the rest of the night.

You wondered if Katsuki remembered doing that, if he remembered any of the small nice gestures he did for you over the years. And now, with his call, with what Sero said, with your over analyzing brain, you were dissecting every interaction you could remember. Was the time he opened a door for you a signal? Was the reason he would ask to study with you for chemistry, when he was way better in practically every subject than you, just so he could be close to you? Were the times he had given you his jacket when you were cold meant to be a more intimate moment?

God, you were going to go crazy.

Walking around the pool, you finally spotted the hot-headed blond. He was sitting slouched over on the end of one of the reclining pool chairs, forearms braced on his knees. You almost called out to him, stopping cold when you saw the girl behind him. She had draped herself over his back, chin rested in the crook of his neck, one had massaging his shoulder, the other conspicuously sneaking under the hem of his shirt to rub circles on his abs.

You clenched and unclenched your hands, worry gnawing at you as a headache at the back of your skull. Had something changed between the time he had called you and now? Had there been nothing there to change at all? Had you been misreading this situation the whole time?

Katsuki looked up, his permanently affixed scowl even deeper. The second his jewel-red eyes met yours, you felt your heart skip a beat. He jumped to his feet so fast the girl behind him fell back against the chair. He tried marching over to you, which was made only slightly less intimidating by the drunk sway to his step.

You didn’t remember him being so tall. You’d just seen him this afternoon. There was a flushed blush across his face, adding a surprising softness. Were his arms always that strong looking? Were his eyes that piercing? Was his jaw that strong?

“You came,” He said, voice rough as whiskey soaking into gravel.

You spread your hands. “Well, you said my name three times, so, here I am!” You laughed nervously, trying to ignore how his gaze pinned you down.

He took another step towards you, hand reading up. “(Y/N), I-”

His cheeks turned from pink to green. Lurching to the side, he vomited into the pool. You tried to help him back up, hunched over and trying to catch his breath. The crowd of people around you groaned in disgust before rolling in to sarcastic applause. Katsuki flipped them off.

“Alright, Suki,” You said, rubbing his back. “Let’s get you back home.”

He grumbled, leaning his full weight against you. You almost stumbled and fell with the sudden shift of balance. Katsuki slid his arm around your waist, hand firmly grasping your hip, as if he was the one trying to prevent you from a drunken stumble. His fingers felt like fire through your clothes.

You decided to go around the house instead of trying to push your way through it. Soon you were making your way across the street. It took some maneuvering to unlock and open the passenger door. You practically dropped Katsuki in where his head fell back with a groan. You grabbed his seat belt and stretched across him to fasten it. It wasn’t until he started petting your hair that your realized your position of half-way laying across his lap. You jerked back, some of your hair getting caught in his fingers. He made a disappointed sound at the loss of it.

You slid back into the driver's seat, trembling hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. You had to take a few steadying breaths before you were ready to start the car. Pulling out of the neighborhood, you glanced over at Katsuki. His eye brows were furrowed, eyes closed, mouth pulled in a small frown.

God, he looked adorable.

You hit the break harder than you meant to at the light. Adorable? Where the hell did that thought come from? He’d probably be furious if he knew you ever thought that.

But…

You risked another look at him. When he let his face relax like this, you could see the slight chub that still clung to his cheeks. Another thing he would hate to know that you thought was how much you loved the softness that it leant him. It was cute.

Almost without your realizing it, you lifted your hand. You were overcome with the sudden urge to poke his cheek. A car horn blared behind you when your finger was less than an inch from his face. You let out an undignified squeak, hands slamming back to the wheel. Katsuki grumbled and turned in the seat, head resting against the window. You could feel the blush burning up your face.

A few minutes later, you pulled back to the apartment complex. You both lived in the same building, Katsuki directly below your own unit. And now you were overthinking his reason for not living on campus.

When you opened the passenger door, Katsuki almost fell out. You jerked forward to catch him then dragged him out. He half woke up, as feeble on his legs as a newborn horse.

You lugged him through the lobby. He was muttering under his breath, but most of the words you could make out were curses. Not unusual for him. You pressed the button for the elevator repeatedly. It just blinked back at you. You sighed in frustration. They had been doing maintenance on your building all week, but now might have been the absolute worst time to do the elevator.

You shook Katsuki’s shoulder a little bit. His head jostled like a bobble-head. “Suki, I’m gonna need your help here for a minute.”

His head lolled forward, forehead coming down to press to yours. In a quiet voice, he whispered, “I’d do anything for you.”

You shoved him upright, face burning. “Then walk up the damn stairs yourself!”

Despite that, you still ended up half-carrying him up four flights of stairs. You were uncomfortably sweaty when you reached the door to Katsuki’s apartment. The two of you had traded copies of your apartment keys when you had moved in. “In case something happens to your dumb ass and I need to come save you,” He had said. He would frequently stop by, usually when you were hours deep into an all-nighter. He’d bring his laptop and work on whatever 12 page essay way due on your bed while you poured over case reports. You’d sit in silence, just together, sharing the same space, content with nothing more than knowing the other was nearby. Or he’d bring you real food to make sure you weren’t just eating ramen all the time. In turn, you’d pull him out for game night with the squad, make sure he’d actually call his mother once in a while, and lend an ear to his semi-nightly rants on whoever he decided to hate that night.

You fumbled with the keys, jamming the key in the lock then pushing it open with your shoulder that wasn’t currently occupied by a half-asleep, full-drunk boy who had at least 50 pounds and ten inches on you.

There was always an expectation with the rooms of single college boys. Greasy pizza boxes, empty bottles of booze displayed like expensive decor, at least one poster of a half-naked girl somewhere, probably a basket of clothes that should have been washed weeks ago. And while you knew plenty of guys who fit that description, Katsuki defied expectation. His apartment was always immaculate. His shoes were lined neatly by the door, a calendar above his desk color-coded with assignment due dates, bed made. Katsuki may give off the persona of a punk, but you knew he was a straight-laced nerd through and through.

With the last of your strength, you lugged him across the room, dropping him on his bed. With a groan, you stretched your arms up until you heard a satisfying pop in your back. Hands on your hips, you watched as Katsuki moaned, burying his face in his pillow and pulling his feet up from the floor. You sat on the end of the bed, tugging his feet to you to unlace his shoes. You let them fall haphazardly to the floor, too tired to care about his level of neatness.

You grabbed a bucket from his hall closet, putting it next to the head of his bed for when he inevitably woke up vomiting in the morning. Checking his bathroom, you put a couple of painkillers and a glass of water on the nightstand with a post-it note saying “Drink Me.”

Brushing your hands off, you looked around and checked your work. Satisfied that he wouldn’t kill himself between now and when you would inevitably check on him in the morning, you decided it was finally time to head back upstairs and get some well deserved sleep.

But…

You turned back at the door. Katsuki was splayed like a starfish, gently snoring with his mouth wide open. You also noticed his blushing red fluffy cheeks.

You tapped the door knob a few times before sighing in surrender to temptation and turnin back. You knelt down next to the bed. For a moment, you just watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful now. You reached out. Your index finger sunk into his cheek like it was a marshmallow. You couldn’t believe you had never done this before. God, he really was adorable.

Your thoughts were abruptly cut off as Katsuki’s hand shot up and grabbed your wrist with an iron grip. With a shriek, you tried to scramble backwards. Katsuki lazily opened his eyes, not at all bothered by your struggles. With seemingly no effort on his part, he tugged you forward. Off balance, you fell into his chest. Katsuki wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug, slinging a leg over yours, trapping you on the bed.

“Katsuki!” You hissed. You squirmed in his hold, not getting any extra room. He just hummed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You were pretty sure your face was hot enough to start a fire. “Katsuki, let me go!”

“No,” He mumbled. His voice rumbled against your skin sending shivers through your whole body.

“Katsuki!”

“You can’t leave. If you leave, you won’t come back.”

You stopped struggling. “What are you talking about?”

He squeezed you tighter. “I’m loud. I get angry real easy. I fight a lot. And you…” He trailed off, his breath catching and rattling in his chest. “You’re so much better than me. You’re nice and smart and talented and pretty and caring and… and…” You could feel the hot tears landing on your skin. He was starting to shake. His grip had loosened enough for you to get out, but instead you brought your arms up and pulled him in closer. “If I let you go, you’ll see how much better you are than me. And you’ll leave. You’ll leave me because you’re better and you deserve so much better. But I’m a selfish bastard and I just want you for myself because I love you so damn much.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You wiggled your hand up, threading your hand into his hair and tilting his head to look up at you.

“I love you too,” You said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Katsuki crushed you to his chest, letting out another loud sob. You could feel hot tears pressing against your eyes. You had no idea Katsuki felt this way about anything; about you, about himself, about your relationship.

But one thing you knew for sure: You loved Bakugo Katsuki.

~~~

The first thing Katsuki noticed when he woke up was the head ache. His head felt like he had a railroad spike jammed through his temples. God, what did he do last night? There was the party at Kappa Alpha Betta Whatever house. It’d been fine for a while, hanging out with the guys, playing beer pong, winning some extra cash from freshman in poker (where did he put that money anyway?). And then…

And then someone had said your name. He’d heard it across the room, an amazing feat in and of itself, but his ears were trained for any news of you. He’d jerked up right when he heard it, missing his shot at the beer pong table. He gladly took his drink and went prowling through the house. Who had said your name? Were you here? Were you coming?

It might have been selfish, he knew how much you hated loud crowds, but damn it, he wanted you here. He remembered the last Greek life party you had been at. He’d lost you at some point between getting into an argument with that damn Deku and pulling Denki down from a keg stand. He’d finally found you huddled into some back corner, looking like a rabbit about to dart from a hungry fox (he wouldn’t mind being that fox, honestly, he could eat you right up.) You’d lost the color in your face, hands shaking as you clutched your red Solo cup almost hard enough for your nails to pierce the plastic.

He snatched Kirishima by his collar as he carved a path through the room. He planted the extroverted red-head in front of you, creating an extrovert shield between himself and the love of his life you. He’d spent the rest of the night talking to you. Nothing special, he couldn’t even really remember what about. But he did remember the relaxed slope of your shoulders, the spark in your eyes, the smile that played on your lips at whatever lame joke he had just made.

Back in the present (or last night, whatever), he was still stalking through the halls looking for whoever had mentioned you. He heard it again, the tail end of your name, coming from the living room.

“-(/N) never had it so good.” There he was, lounging along the bottom stairs with a smug look on his face as he regaled the small crowd he had attracted. Katsuki recognized him as one of those legacy kids, the one who showed up to the first day of orientation in a sleek black Bugatti and took up three parking spaces, talked in almost every one of his classes when he even bothered to show up, and was, without a doubt at every party on or off campus.

And now he was telling a story about you. What were you ever doing with an asshole like him?

“You would never guess it from how she dresses, you know,” The guy continued, lazily waving his half-empty beer bottle. “But she is stacked.”

Katsuki tensed up, his heart jumping into his throat. He pushed aside the crowd until he stood right in front of the bragger on the stairs. “What did you just say?” He asked through clenched teeth. “You're talking about (Y/N) (L/N), right?”

He lazily swept his gaze up, grinning wide when he saw Katsuki. “Yeah, (Y/N)? You know, she comes across as a frigid bitch, but let me tell you, she’s an incredible lay.” Katsuki’s vision went red. The crowd started to subtly shuffle away, feeling the cold change in atmosphere. “Not much besides that, honestly. Thank god her tits and ass are amazing, cause her face sure wasn’t doing it for me. Super boring, too, heard she’s failing her classes. Oh, well. Hey, I could use a side-piece when I’m running my own firm, you know?”

The asshole never saw it coming. In the span of a heart beat, Katsuki had grabbed his designer jacket and hoisted him off the stairs, pinning him to the wall so his feet kicked to try and reach the ground.

“You listen to me, asshole,” Katsuki hissed. “You never talk about (Y/N) again. You never look at her, you never talk to your shit-stain friends about her, you sure as fuck never tell another lie about her, or so help me, you’ll get to find out what color your liver is.”

Katsuki was half-way sure the jerk had pissed his pants. He dropped him in a heap, landing in the puddle of spilled beer on the floor. He brushed his hand off on his jeans, eager to get whatever germs the gossip had off him.

He was almost out of ear shot when he heard the rich kid spit and say, “Fine. She’s probably crawling with it if you’re dicking her down.”

The kid’s head made a dent in the wall as he richoched back from the impact of Katsuki’s punch. He would easily have a black eye and a broken nose, the chipped tooth would just be a bonus.

Katsuki’s head was fuzzy with rage, stalked through the house, bee-lining it to the nearest source of inebriation. How dare he? How fucking dare that absolute ass-wipe ever even think of saying such horrible things about you? He wasn’t even worth knowing your name, much less saying it. Not to mention the fact he must be blind to think you were anything less than stunning. Ever since he had known you, you had been nothing but kind and smart and caring and funny and…

“Baku-bro, you doing okay?”

Katsuki didn’t realize how tight he was holding his fists until he relaxed. His nails had made half-moon indents in his palms, his knuckles brushed red from the punch.

Kirishima had his mouth pulled down in that stupid puppy dog pout. “I’m fine,” Katsuki brushed him off. He grabbed a beer out of an iced cooler, twisting off the cap in a single motion and chugging half the bottle.

“Well, that’s good, cause I don’t think Tim Flood is making it out of here without a few stitches.”

“Good.” Katsuki finished the beer and chucked it into a recycle bin. He grabbed another and stalked out of the room. Everything felt too hot, too tight. His head was pounding. If you were here, you’d get a bag of ice and press it against his forehead. You’d probably call him an idiot for getting into another fight, that he needed to learn how to manage his temper better. He’d call you a dumbass but let you lead him away somewhere dark and quiet, away from all the other more insufferable dumbasses. You’d find some pain killers, get him some water, because that’s just the kind of caring person you were. Maybe you’d bring him upstairs, lead him to an unoccupied bedroom. The two of you would sit together on the bed, maybe just a little too close. You’d hand him the water, his hand would brush against yours. You’d look down, shy, blushing cutely. He’d lean forward, thread his hand through your incredibly soft hair, angle your face up to him. Your plush lips would part slightly and he’d lean forward and -

“Are you sure you’re good?” Kirishima asked, abruptly cutting off Katsuki’s impromptu fantasy. “Cause you don’t look so good.” Katsuki bit his tongue. “Is it because of what that guy said about (Y/N)?” Katsuki whipped around, glaring daggers. Kirishima smiled and put his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, bro, it’s okay! No one believed him, anyway.”

Katsuki scoffed, taking a swig of the beer. “(Y/N)’s too good for him anyway.”

“I bet you think (Y/N)’s too good for everyone here, right?”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you need to hurry up and tell (Y/N) you like her!” Sero shouted, jumping in out of nowhere.

Katsuki dropped his bottle, Kirishima catching it just in time, and grabbed Sero by the front of his shirt and lifted him up. Sero just grinned his stupid, wide grin.

“Come on, Katsuki,” Denki said, slinging an arm around Katsuki’s shoulders. “We all know you’ve had a thing for (Y/N) since high school. Why don’t you just put us all out of our misery and tell her already?!”

Katsuki felt his face heat up. “I don’t- I haven’t - Fuck you!” Katsuki couldn’t remember why he was friends with these three idiots as they all burst out into laughter.

He snatched his bottle back and pushed through the crowd. He needed some air. He heard Sero yell after him, “You have to tell her eventually!”

And… That was mostly it. Katsuki’s memories of last night sort of started to trail off after that. He knew that he drank, he drank a lot. At some point he ended up by the pool. And maybe he’d called someone? Oh, hell, he hoped he hadn’t called someone.

His eyes snapped open at the soft groan. There you were, just inches away from his face, fast asleep and tucked in his arms. You were pressed close, breasts pushing against his chest, legs tangled with his, one hand clutching his shirt. Your lips were parted ever so slightly, breathing heavy and even.

And you were so fucking close.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His arms tightened around you and he tensed. How the hell did this happen? Did you actually come to the party last night? When, and why? What had called you down there-?

Oh. Oh, the call! He had called you last night? Some time in his drunken haze he must have figured out to bypass the timed lock he had put on it specifically to avoid calling people with a too-honest tongue. But had you…? Nervously, he looked down. He sighed in relief. You were both still dressed. At least that was one mistake he knew he hadn’t made.

Alright, that was one problem. Now, on to the next one: How was he going to get out of here without waking you up? Craning his head around, he checked out the room. Wait, this was his room. He was in his apartment! A picture of last night started to form in his mind. He’d called you, blabbering God knows what, and then you’d been a good person (why were you such a good person?) and had come to get him, to make sure he was okay. And then what? He’d somehow seduced you into his bed? No, it was more likely you had stayed to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit, maybe sat on the bed because it was the middle of the night and you were exhausted, and then… This.

Okay, okay, no, this was fine, he could fix this. He could slip out, let you keep sleeping. He’d make some breakfast in the kitchen and then you’d wake up, wander in rubbing the sleep from your eyes in that cute way you did when you pulled an all-nighter studying. He’d chastise you for lugging his drunk ass up here, for being out so late at night. You’d wave him off, compliment his cooking, tell him to take better care of himself, and then smile up at him with that blindingly beautiful smile and sparkling eyes.

“Morning.” Katsuki yelped at your greeting. He stared, wide-eyed, down at you, as you look back up at him lazily with those sparkling eyes. “It’s kinda hard to breathe here.” He realized then just how tight he was holding you. He jerked backward, his shout of surprise cut off as he fell off the bed. He rubbed his sore hip, looking up when he heard your giggle. You were leaning over the bed, smiling shyly when he caught you staring.

He gulped hard, feeling his face burning up. “Hi.”

You tucked a loose threat of hair behind your ear. “Hi.”

He should say something. He needed to say something. God, why wasn’t he saying something?

“I-“ Katsuki stopped with an incomplete thought in his mouth. He suddenly felt uncomfortably hot, his stomach clenching and throat going dry. Your face dropped as you lunged forward, dragging a bucket in front of him (where did that even come from?). He surged forward, clenching the sides of the bucket in a white knuckled grip, and threw up.

You slid off the bed and knelt next to him. You rubbed small circles in his back, whispering small comforts as he coughed up bile and alcohol and who knows what else. You reached over behind him and grabbed a glass of water from his nightstand.

“Here,” You said. “Rinse and spit. Don’t swallow or gargle, it’ll just mess with your gag reflex.” Rubbing the spike of pain growing in his forehead, he did what you said. When he caught his breath, he accepted the pain killers you had and dry swallowed them. You really had prepared for everything, huh?

Katsuki shoved the bucket away with his foot, leaning back against the bed. “Fuck…”

You hummed in response and scooted to sit next to him. “So,” You said.

“So,” He said back.

“I don’t suppose you remember much from last night?”

He clenched his jaw, mouth going dryer than it already was, if that was possible. He tried to laugh, but it sounded forced and strained, even to him. “Hey, we’re both still wearing pants, right?” You didn’t laugh back.

“So that’s a no then?” The seriousness with which you said that made him pause.

“I, uh, think I called you?”

“MmHmm. You didn’t sound too great, so I came to pull you out.”

“Huh. Thanks for that.”

“Yup.” You paused for a second. “Do you remember… anything else you said?”

Fuck.

“Uhh, I owe you breakfast?”

You looked away. “Is there anything you maybe told Sero that you wouldn’t want him to tell me?”

Double fuck.

“If this is about Halloween last year, Mina was the one who brought the Ouija board.” He smirked at you, waiting for you to laugh with him. Instead you didn’t even look up, staring a hole in the carpet with the intensity of your gaze.

You let out a sigh through your nose, pushing off your knees to stand. “I’m gonna head out,” You said, rubbing the back of your head and still not looking at him.

Katsuki jumped up, immediately regretting as his head began swimming. “(Y/N), wait-“ He cut himself off with another surge of nausea and lurched towards the bucket.

“Katsuki,” You said, sounding frustrated. “Look, I…” You sighed, running a hand through your hair and turning back to him. “We’ve known each other for a long time now, right? And for all the time I’ve known you, you’ve been stubborn and pig-headed and aggressive and just, you know, you. But still, in all that time, despite everything, I still…” You pressed your lips, looking for the right words. “I’m happy when I’m around you, Katsuki. I feel at ease, I feel protected, I feel like I can be better at anything. And I’ve thought about this a lot, so much that it makes my head spin and my heart hurt, but through all the trouble I still think it’s worth it. Because at the end of the day it means I still get to be with you and sometimes I just feel like that’s enough, but now I…” Your lip was trembling, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. Katsuki wanted nothing more than to take a big step forward and wrap you in the biggest, tightest hug of your life. Finally, you sighed in defeat. “But if you can’t say it, if the One and Only Katsuki Bakugo can’t say it, then how the hell can I?”

Your voice broke on the last word. Katsuki was so stunned and suddenly pinned with guilt that he couldn’t move when you spun on your heels and rushed out of his apartment.

Oh, fuck.

~~~

“Idiot,” You murmured to yourself as you fled up the apartment stairs, furiously wiping at your eyes to get rid of the oncoming tears. “Idiot, idiot, idiot.” By the time you reached your apartment and slammed the door behind you, you weren’t sure if you were talking about Katsuki or yourself.

You felt sick. Anxiety gnawed at your mind like a starving coyote. Had you really just confessed your feelings to Katsuki? Had you really just confessed your feelings to Katsuki like that? Would he ever speak to you again? Would things just become too awkward that you’d be edged out of your friend group? They had known Katsuki much longer than they had known you, after all. God, what if he was calling Kirishima right now and telling him about the disaster of a morning, after you had taken advantage of his blitz out state and slept in the same bed with him?

Well, no. Kirishima was probably still knocked out from his own night of heavy imbibing. Not to mention that even he, the most kind-hearted and patient person you knew, would have to draw a line at listening to Katsuki rant while dealing with a massive hangover.

And no, Katsuki wouldn’t do that to you. Despite his rough deminor, his abrasive personality, and his profane tongue, Katsuki was actually a sweetheart deep down. Maybe really deep down, but still. He wouldn’t be so intentionally cruel, even if you told him that you shared all of his baby pictures of him playing in his All Might onesie online.

So then why were you still huddled on a heap on the floor, back pressed against the front door, crying? Why was this pit of loneliness blooming in your chest?

You yelped at the sudden banging on the door. Who could be here so early in the morning? You had paid rent this month, right? You sniffed, rubbing your eyes and smoothing out your clothes. You hoped your cheeks weren’t the blotchy red they got whenever you were upset. You took a deep breath to steady your voice for whoever was outside.

Opening the door, you looked up at a wide-eyed Katsuki, panting hard with determination set on his face. You groaned internally.

“Katsuki,” You began,” About what I said, I’m sorr-”

Without waiting for you to finish, Katsuki surged forward. You tried to take a step backward, almost falling, but he caught you, a strong grip on your shoulders. Without waiting for you to get your bearings, Katsuki leaned in, smashing his lips against yours.

It wasn’t a graceful kiss, all clashing teeth and urgency rather than romance. His eyes were screwed closed. He stayed pressed against you, not moving, grip so tight on your upper arms you thought there might be a mark later.

Just as suddenly as he had come forward, he jerked back, but kept his hold on you. You both breathed heavily, eyes locked. Your mind whirled, a hundred voices shouting at the same time. For once, you decided to ignore them and let your body do what it wanted.

You reached up, wrapping your arms around Katsuki’s neck and pulled him back in. This kiss was controlled, soft and sweet. His hands dropped from your shoulders to wrap around your waist. He pressed in harder, adding desperation in the kiss, as if he thought you would vanish any second. When you both pulled away this time, he leaned his forehead against yours, noses bumping into each other, sharing the same breath.

His voice was rough. “Sorry,” He said. “I had to brush my teeth first.”

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fanfic #fluff #happy birthday katsuki #fanfic #i'm a sap for a happy ending #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader

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trying-write-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Shouji Mezo X Reader Remember part 52

The whole class was shocked that Bakugo was the one to pick up the phone. His yell was loud enough to alert Shouji. Seconds it took Shouji to race down the stairs like a spider on every energy possible to enter the room.

“That’s Y/n?” He yelled out of breath.

“Shouji! Get off the phone baku-butts!” The class heard Y/n on the other line.

“Y/n-” Shouji didn’t know what to say.

“Did you tell the teachers about me?” She asked him a sweet voice.

It was a sliver of hope, her voice. Still here in this world, gracing it with her warm presence.

“Yes, of course, Y/n- what, why?”

She told him too!

“I’m a master planner is why!” She said like it wasn’t that serious. “Good, good. I bet this will go quite well.”

Those words destroyed that sliver of peace. Master plan of his hell!

“Y/n why would you do this?” Momo yelled into the home phone. “We could help you if you just let us”

“Once I knew my mother was helping the league, it was my fate to do this. I wasn’t brought to UA for my silly mistakes, but because I was meant to be here, to guide the heroes to stop the league. I’ll take the teachers where they need to be, and I say the things I need to say to my mom.” Y/n explained. “its family business first.”

“You could have told her those things when she rots in prison,” Sero said. “You don’t have-”

“I’m not sure if I’ll be given the chance, but you guys are worth it. I just want you guys to survive your hero course and then become the hereoes you want to be, later. Especially Shouji. I’m sorry I hurt you, and the rest of the class, you’re extra special to me Mezo.”

“Y/n...please,” Shouji begged.

“Shouji you got to be my hero so many times. I know you don’t want me to do this, but you’re worth it. I love you, so much that I don’t want to imagine a world where you get killed or injured by my mother’s creations. I have to be the one to do this.”

“Y/n you can come back we can-” Shouji said.

“Please insert more money to continue the call.”

This was still part of Y/n’s plan. Sure she wish she could hear more of Shouji’s voice, but she knew she had to do this now or never. The class would tell the teachers about the phone call, to ensure she would be found dead or alive. Or at least the location in question.

She turned to the woods boarding the town and sighed. A road cut through it, the same road her mother drove on. The sign of private property glared at her as she entered the unknown. She took deep breath and continued.

Looking back she wished she could have told Aizawa she did appreciate all his help. They may have butt heads, but she knew he cared about her well being even though he didn’t have to. He busted her shoulder and that’s how it started. That’s the logical way to see this as, but Y/n saw it as destiny was how she ended up here. It was destiny to meet Shouji too. To fall for him, to care for him, to bring her back to her mother in order to save him once. She was risking her life and memories, but she believed deep down she would find her way back no matter what.

At the check point there was a fence around a building deep in the woods. It was an electrical fence 8 feet high. There at the gate was a camera and a scanner. She took a deep breath and went for it.

“Hello?” She asked the scanner.

“State your name and purpose.” A voice from the scanner said.

“I’m (full name) Dr (last name)‘s daughter. I just.” She began to tear up. “I need to see my mom, I can’t take it there anymore.” She sobbed.

Thirty seconds went by and the gate opened. Easy as pie. She walked up to the building and entered. It was white, sterile. There was a guard sitting at the computer.

“Your mother is down stairs.” He said. “You haven’t been here in quite some time.”

“Huh?” She pretended to be dumb. “I think I’ve only been here once or twice.”

“Huh, my mistake.”

Yet Y/n knew where the down stairs was. It was assumed her mother was notify she was here. Her heart race as there was no turning back. The elevator opened to reveal the real laboratory. The walls were tall holding containers of what seemed to be half baked experiments of living things that grew in tubes. She saw her mother taking notes on one of the containers. Her attention turned to her daughter as she heard the elevator ding.

“Y/n, you’re here.” She said. “We might get in trouble for this, but as your mother I have your back. Is that Aizawa-ass a huge jerk?”

“Oh he’s the worst!” Y/n sobbed. “This was all just too much on me. I can’t use my phone at all, and I got hurt!”

Her mother set the notes down to examine her own daughter. She placed her hand on Y/n’s cheek. It burned Y/n to leave it there, but she had to keep up the act for now.

“I’m so sorry. We’ve been playing by their rules for so long.” Her mother sighed. “It doesn’t have to be like that though. It can be like how things were. Remember? When it was just me and you, shopping and icecream?”

Y/n looked past her mother and saw in a container further back, was a NOMU fully grown with a brain sticking out. She had to pretend more and more as it got harder.

“I do mom.” Y/n said.

“What did they do to you?” Her mother’s attention began going back to the container, she was asking for white noise.

“I came in contact with a NOMU. Or that’s what they called it.” Y/n said.

“Mm hmm?”

“And it is said to be a bunch of people in one body with multiple quirks. It’s man made.” Y/n explained more.

“Yeah?” She took more notes.

“And you created them didn’t you.” Y/n said.

A slow smile crept on the doctor’s face.

“I wish I could take full credit, but it was a collaboration. Someone’s idea and my intelligence really did mix well together.” She said. “And you’re here to do what?”

“I’m gonna stop you.” Y/n said activating the quirk in her arms to fire.

“You! My creation?” The doctor asked.

Y/n swung at her mother. The older woman ducked down and got a pole from the floor and hit her daughter in the stomach with it. It electrocuted her. Y/n fell flat on her back, confused.

“This is for the NOMUs. I knew betrayal would always be in you whether I used my quirk or not. It would always resurface.” The doctor said. “You know how disappointed I was when child services came because you called 911? What kind of child rats on her own family? I could’ve been great. Solving the world’s questions they’re too scared to even research!”

“You’re insane!”

“Am I? I birth four ungrateful children to make them the best possible examples of human life.” The doctor yelled kicking Y/n’s side. “Two run away to fulfill their lame careers, one committing petty crimes and the other had no better purpose than to become a NOMU.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would! I refuse to lose my identity, my power, my ambitions to motherhood. It was never rewarding. None of you got my intelligence. Only my drive to fulfil your dreams.” The doctor hissed. “Tell me why now are you so pissed off? Did you fall in love with a wannabe hero?”

Y/n was scared. She was electrocuted again as she screamed in agony. She felt her muscles move against her brain waves. She couldn’t move.

“You could have been a better hero if your father didn’t stop me. Look at you wanting to lose yourself into someone else. What did they do? Call you pretty? Thought you were nice? Like some painting to hang on the wall and be forgotten about?”

Her mother kept hitting her with the device. Asking her questions.

“Forget about them, and maybe when you meet again, you’ll be the true potential you could never meet as NOMU!”

“Fuck you!” Y/n cried out as she gave a last ditch kick to her mother’s leg.

“Get her!”

Two lab assistants took Y/n by her legs and arms. She struggled and tried activating her quirk. Her mother looked her in the eyes and starting to activate her own quirk on Y/n.

“Stop it!” Y/n yelled. “Stop it! Stop it stop it!”

“Drug her up.” Her mother told a third lab assistant who shoved a needle into her side.

Y/n body violently shook as they carried her into a smaller room with a bed. The assistants grunted as she struggled. Her mother grabbed her face more to activate her own quirk to see how far Y/n would handle it. Y/n tried fighting the urge not to black out, but with the drugs, the arm around her neck and the hands on her limbs there was no hope.

#shoji mezo #mezo shoji #Shouji Mezou #bnha shoji #shouji mezo #shoji x reader #Mezo x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #series #xreader

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter. New? Start from the beginning!

Cherry-Orange Blossoms

Ao3

Chapter 3: Lies, Lies, Lies

Katsuki sucked his breath in through his teeth as he held his hands behind his head and sank himself into a squat. He held it for several seconds before gradually rising, keeping his back perfectly straight on the ascent. His calf and thigh muscles burned with exertion. Sweat glistened on his skin and dampened the fabric of his loose muscle tee and gym shorts. It had begun to roll down the ridges of his body to drip down and puddle on the laminate floor. His cheeks burned with a rosy pink hue, not unlike the color of the cherry blossom-like buds blooming within the tissue of his lungs.

His eye twitched as the tight feeling in his chest worsened. It felt like every muscle was spasming at once and giving his lungs no room to inflate. He coughed weakly, feeling an earthy must spread over his tongue as the spores floating in the infected sacs traveled up his windpipe. Apparently, Hanahaki disease was a fungal infection; the original species lived in woodlands, and its fruiting bodies mimicked flowers to attract insects, who would get trapped in their sticky secretions and slowly dissolve. By some evolutionary process or another, the fungus became parasitic, learning to survive in the harsh environment of the body’s gas exchange organ. They remained dormant, supposedly, in spore form until activated by certain hormones circulated during unrequited affection. Serotypes had differentiated from there, but the fungus reproductive structures retained their flower-like imitation.

Katsuki coughed again; he wasn’t sure if the little specks floating before his face were just dust particles illuminated by the sunlight streaming through his bedroom window, or tiny spores of the fungus. Either way, it irritated him. With a grunt, he abandoned his workout and fell back on his haunches. He gritted his teeth as he stretched out his legs, feeling the soreness of exertion pulsing deep within the tissue. He rubbed his thighs and calves, attempting to work out the tension, but paused when his phone pinged with a message notification. Frowning, he grabbed his cell phone and opened the message in the group chat Eijirou had added him to (without his permission).

Eijirou: Hey, Baku-bro, do you want to go to the mall with us today?

Denki: The videogame store is having a sale on new arrivals today! We can totally stock up!

Hanta: Denki, you just want to get Animal Crossing.

Denki: >o< Shut up! I find it therapeutic!

Eijirou: I like the ones that are really manly and into working out. :)

Katsuki rolled his eyes as the conversation derailed to a discussion about the kiddish videogame. He had nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon, and being cooped up in his house with only his thoughts was liable to drive him insane. Already, three times that morning, Katsuki’s mind had wandered to the bubbly girl with the glitter planet charm, and he had suffered coughing fits. One of them had resulted in another cherry blossom petal, which he had buried at the bottom of his trash bin because all hell would break loose if his mother found it. Katsuki typed up a quick affirmative before climbing to his feet so he could find something suitable to wear. He didn’t care much about what people thought of his outfit, but he still had the decency to not walk around in sweat-drenched clothes.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Yooo, Baku-bro!” Denki called excitedly and waved as Katsuki hopped off the subway train. His friends clustered at the base of the stairs leading up to the street. Katsuki shoved his hands deep into his cargo pants pockets, fingering the small collection of cherry lozenges he had thrown in last minute. He didn’t look fondly upon choking out in front of the team and the cheerleaders. Hopefully, his chances of being tackled to the ground on an outing to the mall were meager. Katsuki would much rather suck on one of the sickly-sweet throat tablets than cough up a petal in front of the three. “Why the grumpy face, bro?” Denki asked as he pranced up to him and jabbed him a few times in the bicep.

“Fuck off, Pikachu, I’m not grumpy.” The natural black streak in the electric blond’s hair reminded Katsuki of the shitty little Pokémon, so he had taken to referring to Denki as such. Katsuki clicked his teeth and ran his fingers through his ash-blond hair, finding the strands still clumped with perspiration despite the crude towel-dry he had subjected the fluffy locks to. Whatever. Not like some idiot is gonna come up and sniff my hair. If some whackjob did, Katsuki would kindly provide them a knuckle sandwich.

“So, Eijirou said you had a summer cold or somethin’,” Hanta said casually as the four began to mount the steps to the surface world. “Are you feeling better?”

“I wasn’t feelin’ bad in the first place,” Katsuki growled with a pointed look at the redhead. Eijirou flushed and tugged at his collar with a nervous chuckle. Katsuki rolled his shoulders and slumped a little, feeling his already volatile mood worsening with the reminder of his humiliating experience. “It was just a shitty cough. I slept it off just fine.” The cherry lozenges bounced in his pocket, their little clacks and rustles evidence against his falsehood.

They reached the small veranda that covered the entrance to the subway system. Katsuki blinked rapidly as the harsh sunlight greeted him, burning his eyes. As he shielded his face from its onslaught, his ears gradually processed the din of conversation and traffic assaulting them. The already warm air was hot with the fumes pouring out of the mufflers of the cars lodged bumper-to-bumper on the blacktop road waiting for the light to turn green. Small crowds milled at the crosswalks or scurried in groups across the neat white lines. A steady flow of people streamed along the sidewalk, chattering into their cell phones, scrolling through their social media feeds, or talking amiably with their companions. Katsuki’s blood instantly cooled with the flush of anxiety.

So many people meant so many witnesses if things went way south.

His throat began to itch just thinking about it, and he scratched compulsively at his Adam’s apple, as if to silence the angry screams of the irritated cells. His friends seemed not to notice his anxieties; they strolled on ahead to melt into the throng. Katsuki forced his feet to follow lest he be left behind or lost in the horde. The mall was a short jaunt from the station and towered on the distant city horizon. Its glass dome reflected the light blue of the sky and shimmered like diamonds as the light beams played over its surface. He half-listened as Hanta energetically babbled about the apocalyptic survival game he intended on purchasing.

“-Bakugo. Hey, earth to Bakugo!” Katsuki’s lashes fluttered when he was yanked out of his blank thoughts by Denki. He was snapping his fingers in front of Katsuki’s face. Scowling, Katsuki shoved his hand aside and demanded to know what the hell he wanted.

“What’s up with you spacing out, dude? You were legit about to walk into the fountain.” Katsuki blinked and looked ahead to realize that the large, bubbling fountain situated in the mall’s front plaza was indeed not more than a foot in front of him. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, and he hunched his shoulders, grumbling about how he totally saw it. The three of them exchanged suspicious glances but elected to shrug off the incident. Katsuki’s mouth curled into a frown, and his gaze shifted through the various patrons as they strolled through the automatic glass doors of the mall entrance.

The cooled air pumped by the building’s massive air conditioning units admittedly did feel nice on Katsuki’s raw throat. He breathed in deep, relishing the way the icy oxygen chilled the inflamed passage. Denki squirmed about in excitement in front of him, bleating about all the things he was going to build on his Animal Crossing island. Hanta made a very unflattering gesture behind his back, which Eijirou reprimanded him for with a sharp jab to his ribs.

“Do we want snacks first?” Hanta wheezed as he held his bruised intercostals and leaned down over a decorative wall containing various ferns and flowers. Their aromatic pollen tickled Katsuki’s nose and throat, returning that insufferable itch. Katsuki edged away from the plants while holding the collar of his shirt over his mouth. When Eijirou looked at him expectantly, he dropped the cloth and grimaced.

“I don’t care. Let’s just get a move on.”

“Let’s do pretzels, then!” the redhead suggested, spying a small stand squashed in the corner of the nearby food court. Katsuki’s heart sunk, because he just knew the salt and toasted breadstuff would aggravate his symptoms; his stomach soon took over the emotions, rumbling in his abdomen to demand sustenance. Soon he was sitting on a bench and wolfing down a salted pretzel dunked in nacho cheese. Every few seconds, however, the itch would come clawing back up his trachea, and he had to douse it with a large gulp of soda, forcing it from the entrance to his throat. It lurked in the shadows of his insides, prowling like a beast.

Katsuki’s vermilion eyes anxiously skated the crowd as he ate the pretzel. Aside from his three friends, everyone in the mall was a stranger to him- but that didn’t matter. Among them could be news reporters, sports journalists, and any number of professionals who could latch onto his woeful story and make money off his downfall. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, now finding the material irritating on his neck. He slightly resented not wearing a lower-cut fit.

He tore his gaze away from the crowd, knowing that dwelling on his illness would only lead to trouble. He found Denki staring dreamily into his container of caramel sauce with his half-eaten pretzel raining cinnamon sugar onto his clothes as he just held it up.

“Yo, Earth to Pikachu. Who’s the one spacing out now?” Katsuki jeered. He blinked when a faint pink hue rose to the lanky blond’s cheeks.

“I wonder if Kyoka likes Animal Crossing.”

“Oh, here we go,” Hanta sighed and pushed his forehead into his hand with a sardonic grin. Denki blushed darker but was determined to keep the stoic noirette the topic of conversation.

“She’s just so… you know! And I’m so… you know!” Denki lamented, gestating wildly with his pretzel and shaking more of the sweet spice and sugar all over himself. Katsuki pouted and reclined against the bench, trying not to focus on the romantic implications of the conversation. He’d suffered enough of romance in the last few days. It’s like I can’t escape from this Hell! He seethed, desperately trying to prevent his thoughts from spiraling to a certain cheery brunette. Denki whined and pushed his fist into his cheek. “I just don’t know how to impress her, you guys.”

“You mean your ravishing good looks aren’t enough?” Hanta joked, earning an affronted shove from the blond. Hanta munched on his pretzel hot dog and didn’t even bother swallowing. With his cheek puffed out like a chipmunk’s, he posed matter-of-factly, “You gotta make her laugh, dude. Chicks dig a guy who can crack a good joke.”

“I’m funny, right…?”

“O’course you are, Denki!” Eijirou encouraged and looked at Katsuki, eyebrows knit and requesting a follow-up. Katsuki licked some nacho cheese from the corner of his mouth and bared his teeth like an angry hound.

“Funny-looking.”

“Baku-bro, why’re you so mean?” Denki whined and flopped his head back against the metal bar of the bench. Katsuki bristled, then looked away aggravatedly.

“Why’re you asking me, anyway? Do you think I give two shits about your little crush problems? Just man up and ask the girl out, Jesus,” he growled and violently tore a chunk of the pretzel off with his teeth. Denki pursed his lips thoughtfully, then sighed wistfully.

“It’s just not that easy, y’know…”

“Yeah, but he’s right, man,” Hanta frowned. “At least that way, you’ll get an answer. Keep pinin’ like this, and you’ll end up like Kendo.” Hanta made a coughing up motion and then sneered, obviously jesting. Denki snorted with laughter while Eijirou grinned, but Katsuki felt a blast of fire pulse through his nerve circuits. His cheeks flushed with anger, and he clenched the container of nacho cheese until it caved in and spilled the thick paste all over his fingers.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled. The three boys looked at him, their smiles each falling from their faces as they beheld Katsuki’s rigid posture and death-grip on the crumpled plastic packet of cheese. When Eijirou began to ask if he was all right, Katsuki’s red eyes flashed to him with a livid glare. “Shut the fuck up. You assholes have no fucking idea what you’re talking about! Keep fucking joking like that, and you will be choking on flowers soon!” he roared and threw the messy container of cheese onto the floor. Denki protested as the yellow-orange substance splattered all over the tile, but Katsuki was already up and walking, dripping the sauce from his fingers as he stalked off into the crowd. He didn’t have a destination in mind. He didn’t even have much of a reason other than he just had to get out of there. Or else, the bitter tears that he was so desperately trying to hold back would spring forth, and he couldn’t have that.

Subconsciously, he was able to navigate to the nearest men’s restroom. He startled a little boy washing his hands by throwing the door open with such force that the handle banged against the tile wall and cracked it. The boy decided to skip the paper towels and hurried out of the room, leaving Katsuki alone. Panting as the emotions threatened to overtake him, he paced in front of the sinks like an angry tiger, snarling curses under his breath. With a sudden shout, he punched the metal bin of paper towels. The surface dented, and the automatic dispenser registered his movement and spat out a single white piece of thin material. Something about the dull whirring of the machine swept his frustration away, leaving him just an empty shell. Dully, he plucked the napkin from the dispenser and began wiping the cheese from his hand.

“Fuck,” he whispered suddenly and flopped back against the wall, running his clean hand over his face. What the fuck was his problem? Growing angry at the smallest things, barely able to contain his temper… Rumor would begin to spread if he kept it up. He looked morosely at his knuckles, which were already turning blue and purple -purple, like Ochako’s glittery Saturn charm that she was so excited to pull out of that crappy little coin game at the bubble tea shop sophomore year.

Ochako…

What would she think, to see him acting like this- yelling at his friends and punching things? It would sadden her, absolutely. The brick scraped against Katsuki’s back as he slid down into a sitting position. He tucked his legs to his chest and rested his arms on his knees, then buried his face into the flesh of his forearms. His red eyes gazed miserably at the shadowy tile peeking between the ridges of his sneakers.

Stop freaking out so much. That’s all you have to do, Katsuki tried to convince himself. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Stop being a pissbaby. So what if you’ve got some dumbass disease? Who cares what those Internet bastards say?! I ain’t dyin’, at least not for some time yet! He clenched his fists together, renewed determination flooding his body. I don’t gotta lay down and die or walk on eggshells for this bullshit! I’m Katsuki fucking Bakugo, basketball superstar in the making! No pussy-ass fungus bitch is taking me out!

His nostrils flared as he blew hot breath from his nose. His arm shot up to grasp the sink nearest him and haul himself up. He wiped the rest of the cheese from his hand and then glared at himself into the mirror. Red eyes swam in a pale face that was gradually returning with the color of life -red eyes, like red sneakers, like red hairpins, like red blood. I’m not choking on it yet, he growled to the slightly sickly reflection. Not fucking yet.

His friends were still on the bench when he finally ventured out. They had finished their pretzels and were now drinking slushes. Eijirou had a blue one tucked neatly beside him, untouched.

“Hey, Katsuki, we saved you one,” the redhead smiled and offered the icy drink to him. Katsuki took it with a quiet word of gratitude, electing to stand and shake off the rest of his nervous energy by shifting his weight continuously from one foot to the other. The three boys on the bench awkwardly glanced at one another.

Hanta nervously piped up, “You were right. Hanahaki isn’t somethin’ to joke about… Sorry.” Katsuki stared blankly into the slushie, plucking up the straw to swirl the slushy liquid-ice concoction around in the giant cup.

“S’fine. ‘S just… I saw her, y’know. Kendo.” Katsuki had passed her in the hall the previous day. The girl crouched by the water fountain, clutching her neck as yellow narcissus petals sprouted from her trachea. They fluttered slowly down to pile at her feet; some of the buttery flowers were tinged red with blood from where they had brushed against her raw throat. After a hacking bout, she had shakily tried to drink some water, only to spit it up and start all over again. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and broken sobs leaked out with the coughs. “It’s fucking miserable. I don’t wish it on anybody,” he whispered with lidded eyes. He continued swirling the slush without drinking it, watching the ice melt. The three boys fidgeted on the bench, shamed into silence. Of course, Katsuki was no better; up until this point, he had haughtily discounted anyone who fell victim to the ailment as weak-willed and stupid.

He was such a conceited prick.

Sullenly, he sucked more of the half-melted concoction into his mouth. The cold mush soothed his burning throat even better than the cooled building air. Blinking, he cast a look back into the crowd-

and saw a glittery purple Saturn charm swinging within the mass of bodies. He coughed a little and spit up some of the blue liquid back into the cup, then rubbed his eyes to make sure he didn’t imagine the tacky charm. Sure enough, Ochako had the accessory clipped to one of the belt loops of her white jean shorts. Her smile was radiant, spearing light throughout the room like the stars through the universe. Her pink blouse swished about her frame, giving her a dainty and cute look. She was in avid conversation with someone as she strolled along, and had her fingers linked with theirs.

Katsuki didn’t have to look to know whose hand she was holding.

His fingers twitched, itching to crush the slushie just like he did the little container of cheese, but he refrained from doing so. He couldn’t stop the wracking cough that rattled his body, however. He turned away from his friends on the bench as his chest spasmed. That familiar feeling blossomed in his trachea. The petal was soft as it landed on his tongue, spreading it earthy flavor over his taste buds. He discreetly spat it out and tucked it underneath the fingers holding his cup as Eijirou asked him if he was all right.

“Just fine,” he lied. The blossom-like fungal body seared against his skin, like it was reprimanding him. Not that it did much good- for the next several months, Katsuki was going to lie and lie and lie until it got to the point he couldn’t anymore.

He didn’t know what he would do when that time came. Hollowly, he drank the slushie, feeling the numbing cold spread throughout his entire body- cold like death.

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Want more stories? Check out my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @simplybakugou @sadistiks @wesparklebitch @cellotonin @pixxiesdust

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lingering-nomad · 5 years

Text

Prologue

Kirishima slurps loudly, head tilted back and throat working as he swallows.

Katsuki downed his own soda a block earlier and is walking with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, staring at his classmate through his hair.

Can empty, Kirishima’s quirk pulses to life, aluminum crumpling like so much tissue paper in his grip. It gets rolled into a ball and when a gap appears in the sluggish suburban traffic, tossed into a dumpster across the street with flawless aim.

It’s nothing special. Not a real skill in the grand scheme of things and Katsuki scolds himself for being even slightly impressed.

“C’mon, man. Let’s go. It’ll be fun,” Kirishima says, something like challenge in his tone. Like he’s issuing a dare.

Katsuki looks away, chews on the inside of his cheek. Shit. And here he was hoping Hair-for-Brains had forgotten about the damn nerd’s text.

They’ll be leaving for camp in five days. Cooped up in the middle of nowhere, grinding on each other’s nerves until the start of term.

The thought of meeting Freezer Burn’s empty stare, listening to Emergency Exit’s officious yelling and dealing with the sheer audacity of Deku’s existence before he absolutely has to…

No thanks.

It’s not that Shitty Hair isn’t annoying. He absolutely is, but their quirks are complimentary. Good for sparring. And, well. Katsuki would lick the nitroglycerin off his palms before he’d admit it, but Kirishima doesn’t piss him off as much as people usually do. The guy doesn’t spout pointless crap just to feel his own gums move and he knows how to listen. As if he actually gives a fuck about what Katsuki has to say.

He’s found himself confessing things he’s never told another living soul. Like why he came to UA, why he wants to be a hero, why Deku is such a torn in his side…

“The nerd can fuck off,” Katsuki growls for the third time in an hour.

He gets a shove in response. Just a friendly push. No real force behind it, but it takes footwork to keep from staggering into the road.

Katsuki rights himself and pushes back, more reflex than decision. It’s needlessly aggressive. A full-body blow that would put any other boy from his middle school – shit, most of his UA class – on the ground.

Kirishima sways, steps one foot to the side to counterbalance, but is otherwise unaffected. He just laughs it off, carefree and unmoved.

“C’mon, Baku-bro,” he wheedles, accent thick around the stupid Anglicism. “Let’s go to the pool. It’s a thousand degrees and there’s nothing else to do.”

“I could murder you,” Katsuki grumbles, ignoring the slight throb in his arm. Even without Kirishima’s quirk activated, shoving him felt like shoulder-clipping a wall.

“Sure thing, man. You can drown me in the pool. At least I’ll get to cool off before I go,” Kirishima sarcs back, grinning like a friendly shark.

Katsuki feels a smile tug at the corner of his lips and rolls his eyes to ward it off. “Tch. Whatever, Shitty Hair.”

“Whoo!” Kirishima cheers, pumping a fist in the air as he throws an arm around Katsuki’s shoulders.

He lets it happen, doesn’t shrug it off even when the contact lingers long enough to blur into a hug.

When Kirishima lets go, Katsuki’s face feels warm, skin tingling where he can feel the impression of the other boy’s arm through his shirt. It pulls at something. An instinct suspended between his heart and his guts, lodged deeper than even his drive to win.

“Idiot,” Katsuki mutters under his breath, not sure which of them he’s talking to.

Read Part 1

#ln writes #kiribaku #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #twit fic

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ohmytheon · 6 years

Note

Ok. I’m not sure if my suggestion for TodoOcha posted for you to see because my phone might’ve glitched.😂 It was about that one picture with Todo, Iida, Deku, Uraraka, Baku, and Tsyu at that burger place.🙊

It didn’t glitch. I was just trying to figure out some inspiration behind it and then got caught up in my other writing. I’d started and stopped it a few times, but then kept getting stuck. I was abruptly hit with some inspiration the other day when I came across some Todochako art that had nothing to do with this prompt and, well, two days later, here we are. It’s MUCH longer than I anticipated and the burger doesn’t even feature until the very end, so hopefully that makes up for how long it took me to get this up. (Also, yeah, I’m basing the arcade on what it’s like in the States. Now I wanna go to one, but they’re expensive and I’m about as cheap as Uraraka.)

Most of the time, everyone was too busy with their homework, hero training, or extracurricular activities to go off campus and actually do something for fun as a group. It was hard enough to pencil in time to hang out on campus, much less off, and there was so much they had to do. They were only in their first year and yet already the work was building up. It would only get worse. At this point, they’d be doing their homework and eating meals at the same time by the time they were in their second year. Uraraka already had dreams about school.

However, with some perseverance and more than a little frustration, they managed to find a time where they could all take a break and go off campus for a little. While they were all very much focused on becoming heroes, Iida had insisted that even an hour or two would give them the relief to push themselves further when they got back. Pushing themselves constantly was great and all until they hit a wall.

In the end, they had decided to go to an arcade. It would just be some light fun before getting back into the swing of things. Only a handful of them were going. Uraraka wasn’t sure why Bakugou was coming with them, but he had grumbled something about Kirishima and Kaminari coming later and she wasn’t going to question him on that. The last time she’d pointed out something to him, he had looked like he was going to have a conniption. It was best to just leave him be and let him do his own thing.

Uraraka and Deku were apparently the most excited about their adventure. She loved arcades, but didn’t go to them often. Growing up, it had been fun to beat boys her age and older at the games. They’d get so worked up over the idea of getting beat by a girl, sometimes even accusing her of cheating. When she had been ten, one boy had pulled her hair in anger and she’d floated him to the ceiling. Sure, she’d been the one to get in trouble, but the scared look on his face had been worth it and he’d never bothered her again.

In the middle of excitedly explaining one of her favorite games to Tsu as the arcade came in sight, Todoroki let out a thoughtful hum to himself. “I’ve never been to an arcade before.”

Uraraka spun on him quickly. “What? Never?”

Todoroki shook his head. “It wasn’t exactly something that Endeavor would allow. A waste of time better spent training.”

“That’s a travesty!” Uraraka exclaimed. A determined spirit came over her. “I’ll show you the best games to play.” She grabbed him by the wrist without thinking and hurriedly dragged him ahead of the group so that they could get inside the arcade first. Honestly, what kind of kid didn’t go to the arcade at least once? It was like a staple of childhood. “You’ve seriously been denied something important.”

“Are you certain?” Todoroki eyed the dark room and the flashing lights of the arcade games. It was loud inside in every way, the outside deceptively quiet because of the thick concrete walls and tinted glass. “It doesn’t look like much, to be honest. Those prizes look like they’d be cheaper to buy than spend a bunch of money to get tickets.”

Well, he had a point there. Uraraka had spent plenty days as a kid mourning over that fact. Still…

“That’s not the point,” she told him.

“Then what is it?”

“Winning, of course!” Uraraka smiled up at him. “You like to do that, don’t you?”

Bakugou came up from behind them, his hands sunk in his pockets and a glower on his face as he scoffed, “You wouldn’t know that judging from the Sports Festival.”

Before Todoroki could even respond, Uraraka poked Bakugou in the side and nearly made him yelp. “We don’t need your commentary.” Bakugou gave a look between furious and flabbergasted, which caused Deku to slam a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. He didn’t do a good job though and Bakugou ended up chasing him through the arcade all the way to the token machine.

By the time she, Todoroki, Iida, and Tsu got there, Bakugou and Deku were already in the middle of a playing a Tekken game closeby. Deku wore a look of intense concentration on his face, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, while Bakugou shouted every single thing he was doing, including, “Die!” whenever he went for a specialty move. Todoroki watched them with faint interest as all of them converted their money to tokens.

Once they got their tokens, Uraraka turned to Todoroki. “So what do you want to play first?”

“I’m…not sure,” Todoroki admitted, scanning the place. It was hard to tell, but he looked kind of overwhelmed.

Now that they were here, it was obvious to tell that he’d never been in a place like this. When they had all begun to play video games in the dorms when there was a moment of downtime, he had been confused as well. Being reminded of the fact that he hadn’t had a normal childhood made Uraraka both sad and determined. He deserved to experience some of this stuff before they were neck-deep in the throws of their jobs as pro heroes.

“Okay, we’ve got racing games, fighting games, shooting games, sports games, trick games, old school games, virtual reality games,” Uraraka listed, lifting up a finger with each one. Todoroki blinked. She pointed in Iida’s direction. “His favorite are the racing games, but there’s different kinds. You’ve got cars, motorcycles, planes, and more.” She pointed to Tsu. “Her favorite are the old school arcade games. She’s really good at them. They look easy, but they aren’t.”

Tsu beamed proudly. “No one can beat my score in Frogger.”

“What’s that?” Todoroki asked.

“Basically, it’s a game about a frog trying to cross the road without getting squashed by a car or over a river without falling or getting eaten by an alligator,” Uraraka explained.

Todoroki turned to Tsu. “Isn’t that kind of cheating?”

The two girls laughed. They knew that he was actually being serious, but it was close to being a joke as well. He was slowly figuring out his sense of humor, but honestly, the funniest moments were unintentional. Luckily, he never took offense when they laughed. She opened her mouth to apologize, but then he didn’t seem bothered at all, so she decided against it.

“Let’s try one of the shooting games,” Uraraka decided. “We can play as a team and I can help you out.”

While it had taken Todoroki some time to figure out the gaming system, these arcade games were a better fit. It was easier to play a game where the controller was closer to what real life would be instead of just a controller. She let him pick the game, so they ended up playing one where they had to shoot aliens. He picked it up quickly, even if he’d held the fake gun awkwardly at first. To be honest, once he figured out the few basics, he was even better at the game than her, but then shooting games had never been her forte.

He did jump when an alien popped up right in front of him and she laughed again. It was just so…innocent.

They both sucked at sports games, so Uraraka didn’t feel so bad. Their equally abysmal scores at the baseball game were enough to make Bakugou cackle. He bumped Uraraka to the side so that he could play Todoroki and “show them how it was done”. Despite Todoroki’s attempts to try harder, Bakugou creamed him. Uraraka pat Todoroki on the back and then glared at Bakugou as he swaggered away smirking.

Todoroki was decent at the old school games, though he wasn’t on Tsu’s level. Even then, Uraraka thought he liked them more. They were simple and required the same movements repeatedly, but once he got the hang of them, they were easier to play. It took him a multiple tries and he played a few different ones, but she caught him smiling while playing. Even if he didn’t like anything else, this little moment felt like an accomplishment. He should’ve been able to experience this before, but she was happy to have been able to give him this.

“What’s that?” Todoroki prompted after he finished playing a Donkey Kong game.

Uraraka turned to look where he was pointing and her eyes lit up. “It’s Dance Dance!” Unlike the other arcade games, it was a lot more interactive. The platform was raised so that whoever played the game felt like they were on a stage. He gave her a faintly curious look. “It plays songs and you have to follow the movements of the dancers on the screen.” She laughed. “It’s a workout!”

“Did you…want to play it?” Todoroki asked. She raised her eyebrows. “You seem excited about it.”

“Oh, I’m not that good,” Uraraka replied, blushing a little. She did love it and her eyes kept getting drawn over by the flashing lights and bubbly music, but it made her feel self-conscious too. “And you probably won’t like it.”

Todoroki shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve been playing games that I’ve picked out. It’s only fair. I can just watch this time.”

Just watch. Right. Like that made things any better. Still, he was trying to be nice and accommodating since she had been going out of her way to help him and she did want to play…

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Uraraka latched onto Iida, who happened to be passing by her at that moment. “Let’s go play Dance Dance!” He was startled by her sudden exclamation, but agreed. It was better to play with someone else anyways. That way the attention wouldn’t be all on her and she wouldn’t look so foolish. Just because she liked the game did not mean that she was any good. It was mostly just a game she played for fun and to be silly.

After picking one of her favorite songs, she and Iida set about getting ready with Iida loosening up his limbs like he was about to go for a run. She should have known right then and there that something ridiculous was going to happen, but when Iida had started to bust out near perfectly matching moves to his avatar on the screen at record speed, she was left gaping for a moment, causing her to lose points. It still made him look absurdly goofy, but Uraraka was thrown and left trying to catch up with him in a way that did not make her feel like a flailing giraffe.

Once the song over, Uraraka leaned against the bar behind her, panting heavily, and wiped off some sweat. “How are you so good at this?” she complained.

“It’s all about speed and precision,” Iida replied, as if that made any sense.

“You did a good job still,” Todoroki pointed out, acknowledging her decent grade on the screen.

Uraraka huffed. “He still kicked my butt.”

“I bet you’re better at it than Bakugou,” Todoroki told her.

“What the hell did you just say, Icy Hot?” Bakugou demanded, peering around the corner of a shooting game that he was currently playing. It was as if hearing his name set off a warning sound in his head and caused him to pop up wherever it had been spoken.

Todoroki did not blink in the face of Bakugou’s fury. “It just doesn’t seem like your type of game, is all.”

“Every game is my type of game,” Bakugou declared, abruptly dropping his current game and stomping over towards them. He jumped onto the platform and shoved Iida to the side. “Step aside, Engine Legs.”

Uraraka gawked at him. “You’re gonna play Dance Dance?”

Bakugou popped his neck and then stretched his lower back. “Yeah, what of it?”

Honestly, Uraraka could lose terribly to Bakugou in this round and she still would consider it a win. She forgot that insinuating Bakugou couldn’t do something almost automatically made him do it in order to prove that he could and they were wrong. Todoroki had pushed that exact button. She didn’t think he’d done it on purpose – it had been more like his attempt to comfort her – but it had had the effect regardless. Deku had appeared next to Todoroki, biting his lip and clearly trying not to laugh.

“Pick the song,” Bakugou told her.

Eyeing him for a moment, Uraraka turned to the game and, after careful consideration, picked the girliest, poppiest, most ridiculous song on it. He knew it too, judging from the glare that he shot her. She smiled back at him innocently. “Reconsidering?”

Bakugou didn’t respond, which told her that he was. However, he couldn’t back down now. If he left without playing, then he would look weak in his eyes. It would be embarrassing. Playing this game was humiliating, but backing out was something he considered way worse. He’d dug his grave and he’d dig further before he tried to climb out. Honestly, Todoroki had somehow managed to make this the best day ever with that one throwaway comment. She wasn’t about to forget this.

As soon as the song started, Uraraka had to use all of her focus to not break down laughing. She had to win, if only because it would make this moment that much sweeter, but seeing Bakugou attempt to play Dance Dance would be one of her favorite memories for the rest of her life. By the time they were finished, both sweating and panting, Uraraka leaned over with her hands on her knees, Deku and Tsu were laughing while Iida clapped for them.

“You chose the dumbest song,” Bakugou growled.

“What…?” Uraraka gasped for air in between giggling. “What were you doing over there?”

“I was dancing!”

Todoroki shook his head. “Even I know that wasn’t dancing.”

“You looked like one of those flailing balloon figures!” Uraraka burst out.

“Well you looked drunk!” Bakugou shot back.

Uraraka couldn’t even get bad at him for that comment. It hadn’t been her best work. Still, she grinned smugly when their scores came up and it showed that she’d beat him by ten points. He scowled and stomped off, going back to the shooting game that he’d been playing earlier. This time, when the game started up, he shot with a lot more aggression and vengeance.

“You did good,” Todoroki said as she hopped down.

“Thanks!”

“But you’re right. Definitely not my type of game.”

It was clear that he didn’t want to play it and Uraraka wouldn’t force him. She couldn’t deny that Dance Dance was an embarrassing game and it required a level of grace that she was only just now figuring out thanks to using her quirk on herself more. Still, she was pretty happy having played it. She was glad that Todoroki had brought it up.

When Todoroki expressed interest in trying a racing game, Deku dragged him over to one of the motorcycle games. They were a lot more interactive than the racecar ones. Plus, it had four different ones that were connected so that they could race each other. Uraraka took the one of the left end with Todoroki on her right, then Deku, and finally Iida. Being a racing game, Iida was determined to come in first, but it was anyone’s game. She wasn’t the best at racing games – Deku and Todoroki both had better coordination than her – but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Even though the fake motorcycles were wobbly, Todoroki was smooth on them. She didn’t think that he’d ever driven a motorcycle before, but he was able to move side-to-side with a balance that seemed impossible. It must have come from the way he used the ice half of his quirk – how he could skate around on the ice when the rest of them would’ve been slipping and falling over.

When Todoroki came in first, Deku exclaimed, “You’re really good at this!”

Iida ogled him. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Positive,” Todoroki replied with a shake of his head. He and Iida were tall enough to sit on the fake motorcycles with their feet pressed flat against the ground. Deku was leaning hard to the left, one foot on the ground while the other was propped up on the side of his bike. Uraraka had to lift her leg high up and hobble off awkwardly. She would’ve probably crashed to the ground if Todoroki hadn’t reached out to grab her by the arm. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah!” Heat rushed to Uraraka’s cheeks. “I’m just short. Should’ve floated myself over.”

“You all hungry?” Deku asked. “They’ve got a little food court here.”

All of them agreed to wanting something to eat. They’d been wandering around the arcade for over an hour and it was around the time they would’ve eaten dinner at the dorms. After finding Tsuyu and Bakugou, they made their way to a brightly lit side of the arcade that had a few tables. There wasn’t much in the way of food and no doubt it would be greasy, but Uraraka never minded cheap food. She’d grown up on it. In a way, it kind of reminded her of home, as silly as that was.

However, when Uraraka opened her wallet, her heart dropped. Normally she was so careful about watching what she spent when she went out, but there was something about being in an arcade that had made her forget. The expense of playing these games could catch up. She’d bought too many tokens. Of course she’d had fun and she didn’t regret it, but now she only had enough money to buy a drink. Well, she did have enough money for a meal, but it would mean dipping into her funds that she saved for other important things.

“What do you want to eat?” Todoroki asked her. He was up next at the counter after Deku finished his order.

“I wanted a cheeseburger, but…” Uraraka shut her wallet and slid it back into her back pocket. She gave him a bright smile, determined to not let her disappointment show. “Now that I think about it, I’m not really that hungry. I’m gonna go outside for some fresh air.”

Without waiting for him to respond, she turned on her heels and walked out the side door. Not having enough money was embarrassing and she didn’t want to sit around the others while they ate. She hated being reminded of that, especially when she was around Todoroki or Momo. Not that they ever humiliated her or bragged about it, but they did have money. Having the number two hero for a father did come in handy, even if he did seem like a moody asshole most of the time. By the time she came back in, they’d be finished eating and she could pretend like nothing had happened.

Wandering over to a small fountain, Uraraka sat down on the edge and relaxed. The sun was starting its decent down, casting a beautiful orange glow over the city. They’d probably head back to U.A. soon, but she wanted to enjoy the night out a little longer. She had a few tokens left, so she’d figure out how to best spend them (probably play her favorite games, Dance Dance not included) and turn in whatever tickets she had for a prize.

In her attempt to give Todoroki the best first experience at the arcade possible, she hadn’t played a lot of games that gave tickets in return, so she’d probably only be able to get some candy, but it was better than nothing. Again, she didn’t regret it. She’d had fun and, more importantly, she thought he had too. They all had.

“Hey, Uraraka.”

She looked up and found Todoroki standing in front of her. Seeing him out here was surprising enough, but then he held out a cheeseburger and her eyes widened further. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” He must have seen her looking at her wallet in dismay. Now she was really embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to do that though, so she wasn’t mad at him or anything.

“I wanted to thank you for tonight,” Todoroki said, still holding it out to her.

“It wasn’t anything, honestly!” Uraraka said. When her stomach growled, she connected eyes with Todoroki for one embarrassed second and then took the cheeseburger. She could deny being hungry all she wanted because of her lack of money, but her stomach wasn’t about to turn down free food.

Todoroki sat down next to her. “I wasn’t planning on coming out tonight, but Deku insisted. He and Iida said it would be good to get out and have some time off training.” He had a drink, which he passed between his hands, one hot, one cold, and she realized that it must have been a nervous habit. It was an odd realization, seeing as how she’d never seen him display one before. “I was…embarrassed, by my lack of experience and understanding, but you went out of your way to help me and I appreciate that.”

A soft smile appeared on Uraraka’s face. “I’m glad you came out.”

“Me too,” Todoroki said, stilling the drink in his hands. “The least I could do was buy your food.” He peered at her sideways. “You had fun too, right? I didn’t mean to be a hassle.”

“No, I had a ton of fun!” Uraraka insisted. “Plus, you got Bakugou to play Dance Dance. I’m never going to forget that. It was hilarious.”

Todoroki nodded his head. “He did look really…foolish.”

“Totally,” Uraraka agreed.

“There you all are!” a voice shouted. Uraraka and Todoroki looked up to see Deku and the others walking towards them, even Bakugou, who was texting furiously on his phone. Kirishima and Kaminari had been no-shows, so he was probably chewing them out. “We were wondering where you two went.”

“It feels much nicer out here,” Todoroki replied, although it had little bearing on why they’d been outside. She had just wanted to escape an awkward situation and he’d followed her out here to thank her.

“You still shouldn’t just leave without saying anything,” Iida scolded. “Something could have happened!”

Todoroki nodded, but said, “We would’ve had each other.” The throwaway comment made Uraraka blush a little more than he intended, but luckily no one seemed to notice.

It was nice out, so the others agreed to eat outside. They sat down on the fountain edge as well, digging into their food. Todoroki only had a drink in his hand, so she offered him the burger that he’d bought her. He hesitated, but then took it from her to take a bite and then hand it back. She smiled happily as she began to eat. Yeah, it was just as cheap as she’d expected, but it was the thought behind it that counted and she was more than content. She was also hungrier than she’d realized so she munched down a little faster than was appropriate, but whatever.

Tonight had been really fun. She didn’t spent a lot of one-on-one time with Todoroki, but it was nice to get to know her other classmates more. It was important to her. And it had been a big deal to her that not only she have fun, but everyone else too. Putting a smile on people’s faces was a part of being a hero too, wasn’t it?

Too distracted by eating, Uraraka missed the way Todoroki was watching her sideways, as if seeing her for the first time, and how relaxed as he was hunched over in his seat next to her. In the beginning, he had always been so tense and cold, but in this moment, as the sun set and everyone was chatting and laughing while they ate, he looked…at peace. Yeah, it was a good day.

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surbhichauhan27 · 2 months

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Top 8+ Thrilling Adventure Activities in Baku You Can't Miss

Discover the best adventure activities in Baku, from paragliding and ATV tours to off-roading and more. Whether you're an adrenaline junkie or just looking to try something new, Baku has plenty to offer. Imagine soaring high above the city, navigating rugged terrain, and experiencing the rush of outdoor excitement. Our guide provides all the details you need, including locations, duration, and costs, to help you plan your next thrilling adventure. Dive into the ultimate adventure experience in Baku and make unforgettable memories!

#Adventure Activities In Baku #Baku Travel Guide

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corkcitylibraries · 6 years

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It Seems Like Nothing Changes

Paul Cussen

August 2018

In the last two weeks of Anglo-Welsh composer Philip Heseltine’s year long stay in Ireland, he writes ten songs which are published under the pseudonym Peter Warlock. These are considered to be among his finest work.

An t-Óglách, with the tagline ‘The Official Organ of the Irish Volunteer', often described as a successor to the Irish Volunteer, is published. It is published twice a month initially and successfully manages to remain in circulation despite numerous raids and having to operate in secret to avoid complete closure. Michael Collins, Adjutant General and Director of Organisation, is a regular contributor to the magazine.

Charlie Hurley is arrested on a charge of unlawful assembly and imprisoned in Cork Gaol. When arrested he is found to have in his possession documents relating to military installations in the Beara peninsula and a plan for destroying the police barracks in Castletownbere. On release from Cork Gaol he is rearrested, court-martialled and sentenced to five years' penal servitude at Maryborough (Portlaoise) Gaol.

John Hawkes from off-Barrack Street lodges an unsuccessful appeal with the local War Pensions Committee in Cork city, noting that he had been ‘awarded a pension of 8d. a day for 18 months final [sic] & his period expired some time ago. He states that if he could obtain a pair of spectacles, he would be employed at once as a watchmaker. He has no home and no money and will have to go to the workhouse if his appeal fails.’ Hawkes had previously served in the Royal Munster Fusiliers in France but had been discharged in April 1915, according to his mother, ‘because he got a bad cold in the trenches’ and had been declared ‘unfit for further duty’. Doctors at a hospital in Boulogne had determined that Hawkes suffered from a ‘mental deficiency’ .

Acting Major Thomas Marshal Llewellyn Fuge is mentioned in Despatches. He is mentioned in ‘Long Shadows by de Banks: the history of Cork County Cricket Club’ by Colm Murphy as a useful fast medium bowler who played for Ireland.

Stephen O’Callaghan of 39 Bandon Road completes four years on active duty with the Worcestershire Regiment and the Royal Munster Fusiliers, a recipient of the British Army Service Medal and the Victory Medal.

HMS Flying Fox takes over kite balloons and the operations are attached to the deployment of the American battleships Utah, Nevada and Oklahoma. The three battleships operate from Berehaven from August to October to protect Allied convoys from attack by the German battlecruisers.

August 1 – The first fully combined air, sea, and land military operation in history is launched as RN Fairey Campania seaplanes from HMS Nairana join Allied forces to drive Red Army forces from the mouth of the Northern Dvina river in Russia.

The French Tenth Army launch an attack and penetrate five miles into German territory in the Second Battle of the Marne.

British troops enter Vladivostok.

August 2 – Captain Georgi Chaplin stages a coup against the local Soviet government of Arkhangelsk.

Japan announces that it is deploying troops to Siberia.

The first general strike in Canada occurs in a one-day protest at the murder of Albert “Ginger” Goodwin.

August 4 – ‘Gaelic Sunday’, approximately 100,000 Gaels take part in an act of defiance against the British administration by refusing to apply for licenses to play Gaelic Games.

Noel Willman, actor and theatre director, is born in Derry.

There is a full muster of the members of the companies of the Third West Cork Brigade for the funeral of Lieutenant William Hurley (Kilbrittain Company) in Clogagh.

The Norwegian barque Remonstrant is sunk in the Atlantic Ocean 280 nautical miles (520 km) west of the Fastnet Rock. Her crew survive.

Adolf Hitler is awarded an Iron Cross first class on recommendation of his Jewish superior Lieutenant Hugo Gutmann.

August 5 – Five Zeppelins attempt to bomb London however most of the bombs fall into the North Sea due to heavy cloud cover and L20 is shot down killing all the crew.

August 7 – Florrie Burke is born. He goes on to play for Cork United, Cork Athletic, Evergreen United, Ireland and the League of Ireland XI (d. 1995).

August 8 – The first organised meeting of the I.T.G.W.U. in Mallow is held this evening in the old Town-Hall.

Battle of Amiens where Canadian and Australian troops begin a string of almost continuous victories, the 'Hundred Days Offensive', with an 8-mile push through the German front lines, the Canadians and Australians capture 12,000 German soldiers, while the British take 13,000 and the French capture another 3,000 prisoners (more enemy troops were captured in the six days from August 6 to August 12 than in the previous nine months combined). German General Erich Ludendorff later calls this the "black day of the German Army". Historian Charles Messenger refers to this date as the “day we won the war”.

August 10 – General Frederick Poole, the British commander in Archangel, is told to help the White Russians.

August 16 – Battle of Lake Baikal is fought by the Czechoslovak legion against the Red Army. Red army forces take Arkhangelsk.

August 17 – Moisei Uritsky, the Petrograd head of the Cheka, is assassinated.

Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon meet for the last time, in London, and spend what Sassoon later describes as "the whole of a hot cloudless afternoon together”. British troops attack Baku, Azerbaijan

August 21 – The Second Battle of the Somme begins. Corporal Thomas Hargroves, Royal Irish Regiment, 2nd Batallion, dies in action. He had come from Laois to serve in the Prison Service in Cork and enlisted for military service in early 1916. He first saw action securing positions in Dublin in 1916. His unit landed in France in August 1916. He is listed on the Vis-En-Artois Memorial, (and on a memorial which disappeared from St. Peter’s Church between 2002 and 2006).

August 22 – Sergeant John Hallinon is killed in action in the Somme. He was born around 1883 in Ballincollig and was working as a bank messenger in London. His wife, Emily, unaware of the condition of life in the trenches wrote to ask for her husband's ring, wristwatch and pipes. They had one child, William.

August 23 – Creation of the Bessarabian Peasants' Party.

August 25 – Composer, conductor, author, music lecturer, and pianist Leonard Bernstein is born in Lawrence, Massachusetts (d. 1990).

70 year old fisherman William Whelton dies in Courtmacsharry after mistakenly consuming poison (unlike poisonings in the UK a century later there is no suspicion of Russian involvement!)

August 27 – Denis O'Doherty, Irish Guards is killed in action aged 28. His brother Felix O'Doherty had started the Fianna and Volunteers in Blarney and became Captain 'B' (Blarney) Company, 6th Battalion, Cork Brigade, I.R.A.

The Battle of Ambos Nogales occurs when U.S. Army forces skirmish against Mexican Carrancistas and two supposed German advisors at Nogales, Arizona, in the only battle of WWI fought on United States soil. Over 130 people die, the majority are Mexican citizens.

August 29 – Science historian and cryptanalyst John Herival is born in Belfast (d. 2011).

Bob Conklin dies of gunshot wounds, sustained at the Battle of Arras. Due to the delay of mail from the Front, his family still continue to receive letters from Bob after learning of his death: “Give my love to all and don’t worry on my account”; “Well, my news is finished, so I’ll ring off. I will write mother in a few days. Love to all. Bob.”

August 30 – Czechoslovakia forms independent republic.

London Policemen go on strike after the dismissal of PC Tommy Thiel (centre in the photograph) for union membership. The strikers demand union recognition and a wage increase. Within a few hours 6,000 men throughout London are out, with more joining all the time; even the Special Branch is affected.

Vladimir Lenin is shot and wounded by Fanny Kaplan in Moscow.

#Cork City Libraries #History Is To Blame #worldhistory #irishhistory

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holidayspackagesglh · 1 year

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Explore Azerbaijan in Style: Tailored Tour Packages for Indian Explorers

Dreaming of an exotic getaway that combines rich history, breathtaking landscapes, and a touch of luxury? Look no further than Azerbaijan, a country that effortlessly marries the old world charm with modern elegance. For Indian travelers seeking Azerbaijan tour packages from India and an unforgettable experience, Azerbaijan offers tailor-made tour packages that promise not only exploration but also comfort. In this article, we'll delve into the allure of Azerbaijan and the specially crafted tour packages designed for Indian adventurers. Whether you're a history enthusiast, a nature lover, or a connoisseur of fine living, Azerbaijan has something for everyone.

Discovering the Charms of Azerbaijan:

Nestled at the crossroads of Eastern Europe and Western Asia, Azerbaijan boasts a cultural heritage that spans centuries. From the ancient walled city of Baku, where modern skyscrapers stand beside historic buildings, to the timeless beauty of the Caucasus Mountains, this country invites you on a journey of contrasts. Every corner of Azerbaijan tells a story, and its warm hospitality welcomes travelers with open arms.

Azerbaijan Tour Packages from India: Crafting Your Ideal Getaway:

For Indian travellers looking for Azerbaijan tour packages from India, Azerbaijan offers a range of thoughtfully curated options that cater to various interests and preferences. Whether you're planning a family vacation, a romantic escape, or an adventure with friends, these packages ensure an unforgettable experience. From hassle-free travel arrangements to expert-guided tours, every detail is meticulously planned to provide comfort and excitement.

1. Cultural Odyssey:

Immerse yourself in Azerbaijan's rich culture and history with this package. Explore the ancient UNESCO-listed Old City in Baku, visit the Gobustan National Park to witness ancient rock carvings, and stroll through the charming streets of Sheki. This tour allows you to connect with Azerbaijan's past while enjoying the comforts of the present.

2. Nature Retreat:

If you're a nature enthusiast, this package is tailor-made for you. Embark on a journey to the stunning Gabala region, surrounded by lush landscapes, serene lakes, and the majestic Caucasus Mountains. Engage in outdoor activities like hiking and horseback riding, and rejuvenate your senses in nature's embrace.

3. Luxury and Leisure:

For those seeking a luxurious escape, Azerbaijan offers opulent experiences that pamper your senses. Indulge in the country's finest spas, savor delectable Azerbaijani cuisine, and unwind in elegant accommodations with views of the Caspian Sea. This package is designed to provide a lavish retreat that rejuvenates mind, body, and soul.

4. Adventure and Adrenaline:

Thrill-seekers can quench their thirst for adventure with this action-packed package. From off-road excursions in the Gobustan Desert to thrilling water sports on the Caspian Sea, Azerbaijan caters to adrenaline junkies. Discover a side of Azerbaijan that's sure to get your heart racing.

5. Baku Extravaganza:

Experience the vibrant energy of Baku, the capital city, with this exciting package. Explore modern architectural wonders, visit world-class museums, and indulge in shopping at bustling markets. Baku's cosmopolitan charm and urban allure await you.

Azerbaijan offers a blend of history, nature, luxury, and adventure that beckons Indian travelers searching for Azerbaijan tour packages from India to its shores. With specially crafted options catering to diverse interests, exploring Azerbaijan has never been more enticing. As you embark on your journey, let Azerbaijan's warm hospitality and captivating beauty, through its tour packages from India, create memories that last a lifetime.

Embark on a journey like no other with Azerbaijan tour packages from India. Let this enchanting country redefine your travel experience. Book your adventure today!

Must Read : Egypt Travel Made Easy: Choose from a Variety of Tour Packages

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armeniaitn · 3 years

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California Democratic Party urges U.S. to end aid to Azerbaijan

New Post has been published on https://armenia.in-the.news/politics/california-democratic-party-urges-u-s-to-end-aid-to-azerbaijan-78098-01-09-2021/

California Democratic Party urges U.S. to end aid to Azerbaijan

The California Democratic Party, at its Executive Board Meeting this weekend, passed by affirmation, a resolution (21-08.014) authored and introduced by DSCC Members and LACDP Elected Members Elen Asatryan and Dr. Suzie Abajian calling on the United States Government to end US aid to Azerbaijan by fully enforcing Section 907 of the Freedom Support Act, Asbarez reports.

The resolution also urges the Biden Administration and the Secretary of State to engage with Azerbaijani authorities for the immediate return of Armenian POWs and hostages.

“With the passage of this resolution, the California Democratic Party sent a clear message to Washington — Our US tax dollars must not fund Azerbaijan’s and Turkey’s blatant human rights violations and war crimes and their attempts to ethnically cleanse Armenia’s and Artsakh’s indigenous population. This starts with full enforcement of Section 907 of the Freedom Support Act and immediate US intervention for the safe return of Armenian POWs,” stated Asatryan. ”I am grateful to my colleagues for their unanimous support and I am proud to have led the effort along with Dr. Abajian to bring forth this critical resolution. It is our collective responsibility to use every possible vehicle to demand and achieve concrete actions,” she added.

“The California Democratic Party stands in solidarity with the Armenian community in demanding the immediate and safe return of Armenian POWs and in reaffirming our call on the United States to hold Azerbaijan & its allies like Turkey accountable – beginning with full enforcement of Section 907 of the Freedom Support Act,” stated California Party Chair Rusty Hicks.

The California Democratic Party’s call to the Biden Administration and Congress comes as Azerbaijan continues to violate the peace agreement of November 9, 2020 by now attacking not only Artsakh, but also Armenian proper, as approximately 200 Armenian POWS and civilian hostages remain in captivity, and as aggressive rhetoric and threats continue to rise out of Baku.

On Sunday, Azerbaijani servicemen set deliberate fires near Armenia’s civilian villages while reports came in that Azerbaijan in collaboration with Turkey is sending militants from Afghanistan to occupied parts of Artsakh. Last week, the Azerbaijani armed forces opened fire on Armenia and Artsakh, blocked several roads including an interstate road that secures the normal movement of the civilian population; cutting off movement and creating major restrictions on access to food, basic necessities, and medical services while also depriving Artsakh’s residents of telecommunication by suppressing mobile and internet connection using unauthorized frequencies. The week prior, Armenia’s Human Rights Defender Arman Tatoyan was held at gunpoint by Azerbaijani servicemen.

“We became convinced by our own experience that presence of Azerbaijani servicemen on the roads between Armenia’s Syunik province is a violation of the right to life and freedom of movement of people,” stated Tatoyan.

“I am grateful to the California Democratic Party for passing this timely resolution and calling on the Biden Administration to do the right thing. Our government must take decisive action against the relentless acts of aggression of the Azerbaijani military, which is causing the loss of life, freedom of movement and indigenous lands for my people in Armenia and Artsakh,” stated Abajian.

The California Democratic Party, through passage of a resolution Asatryan introduced at its state convention held in May 2021, established the call for US sanctions on and divestment of all public funds from Turkey and Azerbaijan until Turkey recognizes the Armenian Genocide, and until the people of Artsakh are afforded the opportunity of self-determination on their indigenous lands, which is in line with the official policies and principles of the party. Waiving or weakening Section 907 of the Freedom Support Act is now considered contradictory to the party principles and policies, thus the resolution did not require a floor vote, but only passage through affirmation of the resolutions committee.

The CDP resolution was a resubmission of Res 025-2024 that was passed by the Los Angeles Democratic Party in May 2021. The resolution will be delivered to President Biden, the Secretary of State, the Speaker and Minority Leaders of the United States House of Representative, the Majority Leader and Minority Leader of the United States Senate.

“The ongoing Azerbaijani aggression has resulted in a regional humanitarian disaster, occupation of Artsakh and Armenia sovereign territories, displacement of over 100,000 Armenians from their ancestral homes, ongoing Azerbaijani illegal imprisonment of Armenian POWs and intentional destruction of Armenian cultural monuments,” remarked ANCA-WR Executive Director Armen Sahakyan. “We thank DSCC and LACDP elected members Elen Asatryan and Suzie Abajian for authoring CDP Resolution 21-08.014 and applaud the California Democratic Party for adopting it, sending a strong signal to Washington and Baku against its malign regional activities.”

Resolution sponsors include Los Angeles County Democratic Party, Organization; Elen Asatryan (AD 43), Suzie Abajian (AD 41), Christine Shimizu (AD 45), John Harabedian (AD 41), Marco Flores (AD 53), Shanna Ingalsbee (AD 43), Cindy Montoya (AD 41), Jason Small, (AD 45), Angelica Duenas (AD 39), Vanuhi Vartanian (AD 43), Carolyn “Jiyoung” Park (AD 53), Karen Suarez (AD 41), Bonnie Shatun (AD 46), Adele Andrade-Stadler (AD 49), Mary Ann Lutz (AD 41), Paul Cole Padilla (AD 49), Kathleen Patterson (AD 42), Linda Perez (AD 43), Michael F. Duran (AD 41), Melissa Taylor (AD 41), Dwight Young (AD 36), Tina Fredericks (AD 41), Mitchell Tsai (AD 41), Steven Fisher (AD 43), Melissa Michelson (AD 49), Rebecca Wolfersberger (AD 45).

“Profound gratitude is in order to Elen Asatryan and Dr. Suzie Abajian for spearheading CDP Resolution 21-08.014, and influencing the Executive Board of the California Democratic Party (CDP) to adopt the resolution. This is a significant milestone, as one of the two major traditional parties in the United States, represented in the 5th largest economy in the world — the great State of California, has made it clear to the Biden Administration that continued U.S. assistance to the dynastic dictatorship of Azerbaijan is antithetical to U.S. values and guiding principles. Further, this resolution sends a clear signal to the Administration that its continued pressure on Azerbaijan’s authorities is paramount in effecting the release and repatriation of unjustly held Armenian POWs and civilian captives,” stated Armenian Assembly of America Western Region Director Mihran Toumajan.

“SCAD is proud that the California Democratic Party is standing in solidarity with our community by passing this very important resolution. No effort must be spared in returning Armenian POW’s from the 44 day war and those taken captive, thereafter. Further, the US must not reward Azerbaijan’s ongoing aggression by affording it further military aid. This resolution is not a mere policy position, but an articulation of our values and principles as Americans and Democrats. Finally, we would like to thank Ms. Asatryan and Dr. Abajian for their steadfast leadership in this matter,” stated Chair of the Southern California Armenian Democrats, Leonard Manoukian.

California is home to over one million Armenian Americans, a large majority of whom are directly impacted by the current threats and are descendants of Armenian Genocide survivors, who have been tirelessly advocating for global assistance and intervention as they witnessed the unimaginable sufferings of their family members overseas, inflicted by Turkey and Azerbaijan.

The California Democratic party is the dominant political party in the state. Representing over 10.3 million democrats, it is also the largest democratic entity in the United States.

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iasshikshalove · 5 years

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Current Affairs Dated On 08-07-2019

C.A Dated On 08-07-2019 UNESCO World Heritage list: Why in News? The Walled City of Jaipur, known for its iconic architectural legacy and vibrant culture, on July 6 made its entry into the UNESCO World Heritage Site list. The announcement was made after the 43rd Session of the UNESCO World Heritage Committee (WHC), underway at Baku (Azerbaijan) from June 30 to July 10, examined the nomination of the Walled City of Jaipur for inclusion in the World Heritage list. About The City:  The historic walled city of Jaipur in Rajasthan, was founded in 1727 AD under the patronage of Sawai Jai Singh II. It serves as the capital city of the culturally-rich state of Rajasthan.  The city was proposed to be nominated for its value of being an exemplary development in town planning and architecture that demonstrates an amalgamation and important exchange of ideas in the late medieval period.  In town planning, it shows an interchange of ancient Hindu, Mughal and contemporary Western ideas that resulted in the form of the city,” UNESCO Office in New Delhi had earlier said.  In addition, Jaipur City is an exceptional example of a late medieval trade town in South Asia and defined new concepts for a thriving trade and commercial hub. In addition, the city is associated with living traditions in the form of crafts that have national and international recognition, it said. About the Committee:  The World Heritage Committee is composed of representatives of 21 States Parties to the World Heritage Convention who meet annually.  The Committee is in charge of implementing the Convention.  To date, 1,092 sites in 167 countries have been inscribed on the World Heritage List. GS-2 C.A Dated On 08-07-2019 Doubling Farmer’s Income: Why in News? The Centre aims to double farmers' income by 2022. A 2017 NABARD survey shows high levels of inter-State income inequality among agricultural households. Income inequality  The map depicts the average monthly income of agricultural households in 2017. Households in Punjab earned more than Rs. 16,000, the highest among States.  Those in Andhra Pradesh earned the least -- Rs. 5,842 on average. What remains in the purse?  Consumption expenditure is measured because it is less volatile over time. Agricultural households in Andhra Pradesh ended up with a surplus of Rs. 95 on average in 2017, which was the lowest among States, while households in Punjab had the highest: Rs. 4,314. Sources of income  Among the Centre's plans to improve farmers' income was to shift farmers to non-farm jobs.  Cultivation, for instance, was the source of income for 35% of the agricultural households in rural India. Right to Information Act: Why in News? C.A Dated On 08-07-2019 The Central Information Commission (CIC) has rebuked the Department of Personnel and Training, the nodal ministry for Right to Information Act, for denying records related to appointment of Information Commissioners and framing of rules of the transparency law, saying it stifles “the very letter and spirit” of the legislation. Details:  The Commission admonishes the then Central Public Information Officer (CPIO) for invoking Section 8(1)(i) of the RTI Act without assessing its applicability and the present CPIO is also warned against mindlessly endorsing the reply.  He directed that this order be placed before the Secretary of the Ministry to take note of “adverse findings” of the Commission. What is Section 8(1)(i)? Notwithstanding anything contained in this Act, there shall be no obligation to give any citizen,— (i) cabinet papers including records of deliberations of the Council of Ministers, Secretaries and other officers: Provided that the decisions of Council of Ministers, the reasons thereof, and the material on the basis of which the decisions were taken shall be made public after the decision has been taken, and the matter is complete, or over: Provided further that those matters which come under the exemptions specified in this section shall not be disclosed; About RTI act, 2005:  Right to Information (RTI) is act of the Parliament of India to provide for setting out the practical regime of the right to information for citizens and replaces the erstwhile Freedom of information Act, 2002.  Under the provisions of the Act, any citizen of India may request information from a "public authority" (a body of Government or "instrumentality of State") which is required to reply expeditiously or within thirty days.  The Act also requires every public authority to computerise their records for wide dissemination and to proactively certain categories of information so C.A Dated On 08-07-2019 that the citizens need minimum recourse to request for information formally. Proxy Voting: Why in News? The government is learnt to have withheld its plan to introduce a fresh bill in Parliament to extend the facility of „proxy voting‟ to overseas Indians, pending “reconciliation” of varied views on the issue. Background:  There have been demands from various parties to extend similar facility to domestic migrants who are unable to vote when elections are held in their native places as most cannot afford to travel or miss work.  The Bill proposes that overseas Indians, who are entitled to vote in India, could now appoint a proxy voter to cast their vote.  As of now, overseas Indians were free to cast their votes in the constituencies where they were registered.  The Bill seeks to give them the option of proxy voting, which till now was only available to service personnel.  According to estimates of Ministry of External Affairs, there are about 3.10 crore NRIs living in different countries across the world. Suggested Reforms:  An expert committee of the Election Commission, working on the issue, had in 2015 forwarded the legal framework to the Law Ministry to amend the electoral laws to allow the overseas Indians to use proxy voting. C.A Dated On 08-07-2019  Unofficial data with EC shows that only 10,000 to 12,000 overseas voters have exercised their franchise because they do not want to spend foreign currency to come to India and vote.  The bill said the necessary provision of coming to India to cast ballot caused hardship for overseas electors. Other Salient Provisions:  Another provision in the amendment bill relates to the spouses of service voters.  As of now, an armyman‟s wife is entitled to be enrolled as a service voter, but a woman army officer‟s husband is not, according to the provisions in the electoral law.  The bill proposes to replace the term „wife‟ with „spouse‟, thus making the provision gender neutral.  Members of the armed forces, central armed police forces, personnel of state police forces posted outside their state and the central employees posted outside India are eligible to be enrolled as service voters. GS-3. Union Budget:Farmer Friendly Measures: When doubling of farmers‟ income agenda is being rigorously pursued by the government, a fresh slew of measures through this Budget will only firm up the prospects of the agriculture and rural development sectors. The crux of the Budget is „sustainability‟ in every aspect, be it agriculture practices or economic viability. Steps Taken:  An announcement of formation of 10,000 new FPOs over the next five years is a step towards the same. C.A Dated On 08-07-2019 With this, the economies of scale can be harnessed to achieve the goal of doubling farmer‟s income by reduction in input costs and assuring better price realisations by the farmers for their output.  The government‟s impetus is to promote non-farm activities to boost economic viability of farmers. Owing to climate change challenges, it has become imperative to explore viable and sustainable non-farm means of income generation.  A new scheme — Pradhan Mantri Matsya Sampada Yojana — will give enough confidence to those who are in fisheries sector, to enhance their income with better fisheries management, infrastructure creation, increasing production and productivity, improved post-harvest management bringing economic viability of the sector.  As the government wants to extend the parameters of ease-of-doing business and ease-of-living to the rural areas too, the emphasis of „Gaon, Garib and Kisan‟ will see the uplift of rural lives of farmers and the poor, equally.  The government has shown that every person having potential to bring economic revolution will be given an equal opportunity.  Another new scheme — SFURTI — is an attempt in this direction.  Now, under Pradhan Mantri Gram Sadak Yojana, a road network of 1.25 lakh km will bring more villages to rural markets.  Enhancing the prospects of agripreneurs, the ASPIRE scheme will create 50,000 skilled rural entrepreneurs, especially in the rural agriculture sector. Power generation  To expand the income sources of our farmers, there is a proposal to enable them to take up power generation activities on their field to transform the Annadata to an Urjadata.  In the dairy sector, cooperatives will be encouraged to create infrastructure for cattle field management, milk production, processing and marketing.  For relieving farmers from uncertain prospects, the States will be forced to implement e-NAM mechanism for better operations under the APMC Act.  The goal of “Har Ghar Jal” by 2024 shows the sensitivity to the issue of water availability and its scarcity, equally. C.A Dated On 08-07-2019 Integration of funds from various Ministries to fund the Jal Shakti Abhiyan may see critical water blocks being regained. In a nutshell, „sustainability‟ has largely remained at the centre of this Budget. Desalination technology : The story so far: With warnings from India‟s top policy-makers and reports of major cities in India struggling to stave off a water crisis, there‟s talk about exploring technologies to harness fresh water. The one idea that‟s been around for a while is desalination, or obtaining freshwater from salt water. Desalination technology is not an esoteric idea — the city of Chennai already uses desalinated water. However, it only has a limited application, given the operation costs. What is desalination technology?  To convert salt water into freshwater, the most prevalent technology in the world is reverse osmosis (RO).  A plant pumps in salty or brackish water, filters separate the salt from the water, and the salty water is returned to the sea. Fresh water is sent to households.  Osmosis involves „a solvent (such as water) naturally moving from an area of low solute concentration, through a membrane, to an area of high solute concentration.  A reverse osmosis system applies an external pressure to reverse the natural flow of solvent and so seawater or brackish water is pressurised against one surface of the membrane, causing salt-depleted water to move across the membrane, releasing clean water from the low-pressure side‟. Global Distribution:  There are about 18,000 desalination plants in the world across 150 countries and nearly half of Israel‟s water is sourced through desalination. C.A Dated On 08-07-2019 How popular is it in India?  Years of water crises in Chennai saw the government set up two desalination plants between 2010 and 2013.  Last November, Gujarat Chief Minister, Vijay Rupani, announced plans of setting up a 100 MLD RO plant at the Jodiya coast in Jamnagar district.  This would go a long way in „solving‟ the water availability problems in the drought-prone Saurashtra region.  Other plants of a similar size are expected to come up in Dwarka, Kutch, Dahej, Somnath, Bhavnagar and Pipavav, which are all coastal places in Gujarat.  There are also a slew of desalination plants that cater to industrial purposes. For now, India‟s real-world experience with desalination plants is restricted to Chennai. What are the problems with RO plants? Because RO plants convert seawater to fresh water, the major environmental challenge they pose is the deposition of brine (highly concentrated salt water) along the shores.  Ever since the Chennai plants have started to function, fishermen have complained that the brine being deposited along the seashore is triggering changes along the coastline and reducing the availability of prawn, sardine and mackerel.  Environmentalists second this saying that hyper salinity along the shore affects plankton, which is the main food for several of these fish species.  Moreover, the high pressure motors needed to draw in the seawater end up sucking in small fish and life forms, thereby crushing and killing them — again a loss of marine resource.  Another unexpected problem, an environmentalist group has alleged, was that the construction of the RO plants required troves of groundwater.  This was freshwater that was sucked out and has since been replaced by salt water, rendering it unfit for the residents around the desalination plants. C.A Dated On 08-07-2019  On an average, it costs about ₹900 crore to build a 100 MLD-plant and, as the Chennai experience has shown, about five years for a plant to be set up.  To remove the salt required, there has to be a source of electricity, either a power plant or a diesel or battery source. Is RO water healthy?  In the early days of RO technology, there were concerns that desalinated water was shorn of vital minerals such as calcium, magnesium, zinc, sodium, potassium and carbonates.  They are collectively referred to as TDS.  Higher quantities of these salts in desalination plants tend to corrode the membranes and filtration system in these plants.  So ideally, a treatment plant would try to keep the TDS as low as possible.  Most RO plants, including the ones in Chennai, put the water through a „post-treatment‟ process whereby salts are added to make TDS around 300 mg/l.  Several of the home-RO systems that are common in affluent Indian homes, too employ post-treatment and add salts to water. Are there technological alternatives?  The alternative desalination technology used is thermal energy sourced from the ocean.  There is a low-temperature thermal desalination (LTTD) technique for instance which works on the principle that water in the ocean 1,000 or 2,000 feet below is about 4º C to 8º C colder than surface water.  So, salty surface water is collected in a tank and subject to high pressure (via an external power source).  This pressured water vapourises and this is trapped in tubes or a chamber.  Cold water plumbed from the ocean depths is passed over these tubes and the vapour condenses into fresh water and the resulting salt diverted away. Indigenous Aircraft Carrier (IAC) Vikrant Why in News? C.A Dated On 08-07-2019 The country‟s first Indigenous Aircraft Carrier (IAC), Vikrant, is in advanced stage of construction and will be delivered to the Navy in 2021 for advanced trials, . About Vikrant:  Vikrant, weighing 40,000 tonnes, is being built by Cochin Shipyard Limited.  It works on Short Take-Off But Arrested Recovery (STOBAR) mechanism similar to the present carrier INS Vikramaditya with an angular ski-jump.  The ship is powered by four General Electric (GE) gas turbines.  It will operate Russian origin MiG-29K fighters, which also fly from Vikramaditya.  The ship's combat management system (CMS) was developed by Tata Power Strategic Engineering Division in collaboration with Weapon and Electronics System Engineering Establishment and MARS, Russia.  It is the first CMS developed by a private company for the Indian Navy. Significance of Aircraft Carrier:  An aircraft carrier is a warship that serves as a seagoing airbase, equipped with a full-length flight deck and facilities for carrying, arming, deploying, and recovering aircraft.  Typically, it is the capital ship of a fleet, as it allows a naval force to project air power worldwide without depending on local bases for staging aircraft operations.  While heavier aircraft such as fixed-wing gunships and bombers have been launched from aircraft carriers, it is currently not possible to land them.  By its diplomatic and tactical power, its mobility, its autonomy and the variety of its means, the aircraft carrier is often the centerpiece of modern combat fleets. \  One of its great advantages is that, by sailing in international waters, it does not interfere with any territorial sovereignty and thus obviates the need for overflight authorizations from third party countries, reduce the times and transit distances of aircraft and therefore significantly increase the time of availability on the combat zone

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alexsmitposts · 5 years

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Criminal Syndicates, Not Politics, Drives Middle East Wars In 2015, I address a security conference in Damascus on the issue of organized crime syndicates and their relationship to the post 9/11 wars and so-called “Arab Spring.” Even in Damascus, efforts were made to stop the presentation forcing me to go directly to Syria’s Minister of Justice, Dr. Najm Hamad al Ahmad, using terse tones. Dr. Najm ordered the conference extended at my request. With regional security officials and media present, US Army Colonel James Hanke (retired) and I addressed the conclave with Dr. Najm at my side. The effect was startling, and there are reasons for this. No one every speaks the truth, not in public. There were repercussions from this, a poisoning attempt, an attempt to plant a kilo of heroin in our hotel room in Lebanon, a plot foiled by Veterans Today financial editor Mike Harris. That story hasn’t ended but, worse still, it is no longer told, even in Syria. Let us review that message and see how it applies today. Syria Currently, Syria is being looted by US backed Kurds who have ethnically cleansed and seized not hundreds but thousands of square miles of oil and gas fields, fertile farmlands, and billions of dollars of industrial and commercial resources. Before that, Syria was looted openly by Turkish organized crime, something I reviewed in detail with the Syrian government, not just endless antiquities sold in London and New York, but entire factories, machine tools, copper pipes from schools, anything that could be uprooted from areas supposedly under the control of ISIS and al Qaeda or the supposed Free Syrian Army, were stolen. Heavy equipment was brought into Syria, lines of trucks, even teams of engineers, across a carefully guarded border, under the watchful eye of Turkish security services full partnered with organized crime cartels we traced to Ukraine, Georgia, Azerbaijan and across Europe and into the United States. In addition, thousands of oil trucks were brought into the region, mostly from the United States. Used tanker trucks were being bought wholesale across the US and loaded on transports at the Port of Houston, shipped to Turkey and, from there, transited to Iraq and Syria to steal oil. Previous oil thefts, mostly by the US, had been done using the Baku-Ceyhan pipeline, looting Iraq’s Kirkuk oil field, largest in the world, of up to $.5 trillion in oil during and after the US occupation of Iraq, mostly by Exxon and British Petroleum, aided by corrupt US officials. Alex Powers, a Veterans Today bureau chief, served as assistant to Paul Bremer, us appointed “Governor of Iraq” who allegedly oversaw this process. I met with Iraqi officials, while representing the United Nations, over this issue as well, during this period, from my office in Erbil. Everything was known. The reason we mention this is that there would have been no looting of Syrian oil, something moving into high gear at this writing with theft of Syrian oil at the highest levels ever, without the precedent set by the US and Britain in Iraq from 2005 onward. The theft of Syrian oil that began in 2012, hauled mostly by American trucks delivered into Syria and Iraq though Turkey, coincided, of course, with the renewed looting of the Kirkuk oil fields, North and Northeast of Baghdad. Problem is, when this oil was stolen from Iraq, the only road systems that would deliver this to refineries and the world market, and endless stream of thousands of trucks, was through the city of Erbil itself, the capital of the Kurdish Regional Government, then into ISIS held Mosul and from there, north past a Turkish held region inside Iraq and right into Turkey herself. What am I saying here? ISIS, powerful Turkish organizations and the government of the KRG in Iraq were fully partnered with their massive theft of resources taking place with the tacit approval of the US and British military. This of course means the entire “coalition” effort against ISIS was fake, fake then and fake now. ISIS was funded by Saudi Arabia and Qatar, openly aided by the Israeli Air Force and facilitated by many governments, Romania, Bulgaria, Ukraine, Georgia, Turkey, Jordan, Bahrain and more, many more. Why? Our hypothesis shows the long partnership between multi-generational organized crime and governments, some controlled, some partnered with, that stage terrorism and organize wars as a backdrop for criminal activities. Iraq This isn’t politics, its organized crime, a mafia operating inside the Kurdish region, working in concert with the Turkish mafia, who has long partnered with what is called the “Kosher Nostra,” the “oligarchs” who run much of the world’s organized crime from Trump Towers in New York, from the City of London, where they own banks, from Ukraine and across the world. The government in Baghdad, with US cash flowing into key Sunni politicians, remained divided and helpless. I met with security officials in Baghdad in January 2014 to discuss the threat of ISIS. Several I spoke with assured me ISIS was easy to use and control. Months later, most of those I had spoken with had been beheaded. No one was prepared for the level of oil theft planned under ISIS. Until stopped by Russian aerospace forces, this stream of trucks stealing oil from Syria and Iraq, was so large it would have been visible using only the naked eye from the surface of the moon, and by small telescope from Mars yet the endless fleet of American surveillance drones saw nothing. Why? American lawmakers were receiving their share, paid into their campaign funds though dummy corporations allowed by a highly controversial Supreme Court decision, Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission (2005) and through accounts in the Cayman Islands under the auspices of a former American presidential candidate. In 2012, a former FBI agent brought me the files on these payoffs and submitted to a video debriefing outlining billions paid to US officials. That video was erased from YouTube but still exists on Vimeo. It was offered to Mueller investigators during an interview at FBI headquarters. They did not accept for reasons unknown. The same “ratline” used to launder funds to pay off congress also launders cash from the drug cartels of Mexico and Columbia as well, directly into the US political system and a manages a flow of cash from Afghanistan as well. Afghanistan When the US took over that nation beginning in late 2001, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld presented evidence that al Qaeda had vast underground cities across Afghanistan, housing tens of thousands of terrorists. He presented his evidence on MSNBD to anchor Tim Russert. The video of this farce is here. Of course, the dozens of bases never existed, but America’s transition of Afghanistan from a drug free nation to a nation of addicts, a nation that is the world’s largest producer of processed heroin, that exists to this day. In a 2009 interview with a former Seal Team commander and regional director for not “a” but “the” largest American contractor in the region at the time, I was told the US was using Global Hawk long range drones, like the one Iran shot down in July 2019 over the Straits of Hormuz, to move heroin to Europe and the US. Veterans Today editors Colonel James Hanke and Mike Harris were with me during that exchange. The money trail for this heroin led not only through Mexico and the Cayman Islands to key US officials but through Switzerland as well and paid officials in Afghanistan, former officials in Pakistan, key members of Israel’s Likudist party and funded extremist organizations across Europe. The United States The recent Epstein scandal in the US has had some startling repercussions as well. With the wealth of allegations, yet unproven, supposedly tying large numbers of American officials to a child sex ring run by a foreign intelligence agency, a very real issue of Epstein’s mysterious wealth has revealed useful information. Tracing his key financial backer, we stumbled upon a longtime partnership with the Gambino crime family of New York, and from there, developed inexorable ties to historical figure Meyer Lansky. A fascinating background piece published by MintpressNews outlines the American roots of the organized crime network that highly informed sources say is manifested in ISIS and some of the right wing movements in Europe as well. The article cites how Prohibition, a law enacted in the US in 1919, led to a major Canadian smuggling operation, bringing liquor into the US. The massive funding from this linked the Canadian crime family, the Bronfmans, to “Murder Incorporated’s” Meyer Lansky and allegedly ties them both to FBI founder J. Edgar Hoover and CIA founder Alan Dulles, making both organizations, at some level at least, rooted in the Kosher Nostra and possibly tying them to the assassination of John and Robert Kennedy and certainly tying them to Iran Contra and the massive criminal conspiracy that swept the American government under President Reagan. That trail, from the 1920s, leads to Roy Cohn, former legal council for alleged sex blackmail victim and “red baiter” Senator Joseph McCarthy. By the late 1960s, disgraced Cohn had moved into a powerful New York law firm, aided by former CIA director Alan Dulles. Note that it was Dulles, who John Kennedy fired as CIA director, who headed the Warren Commission which investigated Kennedy’s murder. In 1975, the House Select Committee on Assassinations officially discarded the Warren Commission report citing that John Kennedy was killed by “person or persons unknown,” something now censored from American history. From MintPress: “The Roy Cohn Machine Roy Cohn was only at the beginning of his career when he waded his way into the underground sexual blackmail ring apparently led by Lewis Rosenstiel. Indeed, when Cohn first met Hoover, he was only 23 years old. Over the next three decades or so, before his death from AIDS-related complications in 1986 at the age of 56, Cohn built a well-oiled machine, largely through his close friendships with some of the country’s most influential figures. Among Cohn’s friends were top media personalities like Barbara Walters, former CIA directors, Ronald Reagan and wife Nancy, media moguls Rupert Murdoch and Mort Zuckerman, numerous celebrities, prominent lawyers like Alan Dershowitz, top figures in the Catholic Church and leading Jewish organizations like B’nai B’rith and the World Jewish Congress. Many of the same names that surrounded Cohn until death in the late 1980s would later come to surround Jeffrey Epstein, with their names later appearing in Epstein’s now-infamous “little black book”. While President Trump is clearly connected to both Epstein and Cohn, Cohn’s network also extends to former President Bill Clinton, whose friend and longtime political advisor, Richard “Dirty Dick” Morris, was Cohn’s cousin and close associate. Morris was also close to Clinton’s former communications director, George Stephanopoulos, who is also associated with Jeffrey Epstein. Yet, these were only Cohn’s connections to respectable members of the establishment. He was also known for his deep connections to the mob and gained prominence largely for his ability to connect key figures in the criminal underworld to respected influential figures acceptable to the public sphere. Ultimately, as New York attorney John Klotz stated, Cohn’s most powerful tool was blackmail, which he used against friend and foe, gangster or public official alike. How much of that blackmail he acquired through his sexual blackmail operation will likely never be known.” Roy Cohn, of course, was Donald Trump’s mentor, constant companion and legal representative until Cohn’s death. Conclusion It is clear that the political processes of the United States, Great Britain and Israel are interlocked under the control of multi-generational organized crime. It is also clear that security agencies of these nations have chosen to seek funding through illegal arms and narcotics sales and that activities of these agencies have become inconsistent with their appointed tasks. You see, if seeking “black funding” is allowed, and it is, without limit, then security agencies, even military commands and, as it follows, governments, become criminal organizations. Their actions, psychological warfare, massive “lie machines,” to cover their activities, endless corruption, complicity in war for profit, false flag terrorism, manipulation of world markets, rigging elections, even rewriting history, must be considered as factual and real. Failure to do so, blinds and cripples any government, any organization, any people who attempt to resist. Then, worse, so much worse, a reexamination of history in this light then questions everything, events, wars, historical figures, is any of it real?

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