#ah flashbacks to my da days :p

[bonesandthebees]

BEE IM SO EXCITED LETS GO OKAY GLASS FIRST WOOO THIS IS ALSO GREAT BECAUSE IM GETTING MY HAIR DONE RN AND NEEDED SOMETHING TO DO

ahhh thats the palace hes there in there in that yep

he might as well be dead i mean the pythia that he once knew is dead

flashback wooooo

your descriptions are alwasy SOOOOO

GOOD LIKE IDK THEY JUST AHHHHH

omg theyre at nikis right probably

“my pythia” why dont you go crawl up you own a— anyways. this is a pg zone (i just dont curse)

i want to slap him around a bit, just a tiny bit just like hang him from the ceiling and wack him like he’s a piñata at a five year olds birthday

THEY ARE AT NIKIS

TATTOO

HES DOING IT ISIRJSF ANDOQLFNWIF

tommy is so baby brother

NOTNIN THE PHYSICAL SENSE *spins around very quickly like a tornado*

WHO HE IS OH MY GOD BEE

why is schlatt

i think schlatt would look nice with a black eue it would bring out how much kf a d— anyqays

TAKE THAT SCHLATT

i need more people to draw this tattoo because every singly one is so ahhhhh like i have no clue how this is supposed to look bjt every design peiple make makes sense and i need more im so curious to see how people see

i love the way wilbur thinks i want to take his brain and poke around in it like its so intriguing

also like idk as a person feeling your pulse is always so… intimate? i do it a lot, like just feeling my pulse reminding myself that im human, we all have a pulse. idk its comforting in a way just feeling the way the blood pumps through your body regardless of the world, that youre alive no matter what as long as that blood keeps pumping. like even when everything feels out of place, youre still human.

sorry anyways

anywho thats why hes fiddling with the cuff then hes nervous aboht them seeing

UGH HES SO ANNOYING I WANT TO CHUCK HIM ONTO LIKE I-5 OR SOMETHING

im gonna send a prayer your way schlatt.

GO WILBUR GO

god hes so idk his brain man and the way you write and god i love this fic so much

WHY DOESNT IT FEEL LIKE MINE AHEOHEIFJWO SO WOROWKK OK DA P WAS HEQID

im cool and chill

the vessel.

yep.

cool.

thats cool.

HES WILBUR

i just like god this fic man

ah yes tommys tattoo

just saying on… july 28th i said it was from wilburs murder attempt!! im so smart sometimes

HE DOENST WANT TO BE EMPTY AGAIN WHAT RHE FUEFUVJ

anyways im so normal aboht this fic

oh me too wil lets fist bump over our shared fear of failure and disappointment

me when he realizes that they werent empty he jsut didnt know they were allowed to not be empty

THEYRW FMAKILTLY OU YK EGOD THEY MEHM

BROTHERISHD OH MY GODHD I LOVE RJEM

BOOM AH

GUNSHOTS AH

HIS UBER DRIVER IS HERE YAY!!!!

TOMMY!!!!!!

HIS HROTHERUWIDHS IM NEVER GOING TO HE OKAY WHEN THEY SAY THAT

i loveddddd the way you formatted it it was super neat and idk im just a sucker for interesting formats of swifching between past and present and like idk yeah it was cool

AND NOW OFF TO READ THE ROYALTY AU!!!

- 🪿

hi goose this is a few days old now but finally getting around to answering this!

aaa thank you I'm so glad you like my descriptions :D it was definitely a bit tough getting back into the glass writing groove with the style I use for the descriptions and stuff so I'm glad it turned out ok

"my pythia" made my skin crawl to write

YEAHHH TATTOO TIME. every single time I see fanart of the tattoo I freak out (/pos) so much because all the interpretations are SO cool. I love seeing what people come up with because I myself have no artistic ability, I can only describe what's in my head through words, so when people are able to actually put that into art form it just makes me so happy

yes exactly that's why I wanted it on his pulse!! I wanted it to sit right over the reminder that he's human! that he has blood pumping through his veins! everyone has that blood and that heartbeat and I wanted the tattoo to sit right above that both because of the connection to his heartbeat, but also because it's the place other people can feel your pulse. it's the connection point almost between your pulse and others, if that makes sense.

(random fun fact, I can't feel my own pulse on my wrist. doctors and nurses can't get a pulse from my wrist either. like there have been many times I've gone to the doctor and the nurse has tried to take my pulse and they frown and readjust their hand and then they try the other wrist and no matter what it doesn't work and I'm just sitting there. the only place you can get a pulse off of me besides straight up feeling my heartbeat is on my carotid artery on my throat)

aa thank you I had a lot of fun describing wilbur's thought processes in this chapter, especially with the alternating format

you were RIGHT about the vine tattoo you got it and it was so funny I had to just not say shit but i was like yup, several people have already figured it out :)

HIS UBER DRIVER IS HEREEEEE

aaa I'm so glad you enjoyed!! I had so much fun with the format of this chapter. I plotted it out a bit before my trip, and I specifically wanted to finish ch 25 before my trip because I knew ch 26 was going to be the one I'd most want to write after I got back. I needed a REALLY good exciting chapter to come back to and the alternating format was going to be the way I sucked myself back into the story after being out of that headspace for 3 weeks straight, and it worked. it was just so cinematic in my head y'know? I can perfectly picture the flipping between past and present with like different color grading and lighting and music and all that

[happyk44]

Remembered some old OCs from middle school and suddenly got the urge to write them up. The main they hung around always changed so spliced this guy together from the others.

Stress sank in between his shoulders. He slumped against the desk. Flicking through his list of conversations, he tapped the last one. The timestamp bloomed back at him. He glanced at the date.

Two weeks and a half.

He exited out of the conversation and sat back. Beside him bloomed a familiar apparition. Golden light, the angel locked his arms behind himself. “You could-”

He got up and threw himself out on the bed.

Alexander peered down at him. “They’re probably just busy. Maybe you could say something.”

“Nothing to say,” he mumbled into his pillow. Weariness sank deep into the etches of his back.

“Send something?”

“Isn’t that what fucked us into this in the first place, Alexander?” Miraged from the shadows, Clown gave a wicked smirk. “Sending things? Talking? Trying to attempt a friendship with a person so very much uninterested in testing one out with you? Him? Us?”

Em groaned and curled into a ball. “Can both of you shut up?” 

“I have a point, kid.” Clown threw down a cigarette butt and squashed it into the carpeted floor. “Face the facts, they only liked you because you were flattering.” 

Alexander twitched. The feathers on his wings spasmed gray. "Why are you here?" 

Clown gestured widely. "To ruin things. As is my job."

“Your job is to haunt little children’s nightmares,” Alexander hissed. “And this one’s not asleep.” He scowled. “Nor a child.”

“Yeah, but he’s fun.”

Alexander scowled. “Em-”

Clown cut in. “You befriended someone on a platflorm they used to escape reality and when you became real, they needed to escape you too.“ 

Alexander shook his head. “That’s not true and you can’t prove that it is.“ 

“And you can’t prove that it isn’t.” Clown steadied Em with a hard look. ” Look, kid, I just wanna help you out here because the longer you cry over this, the less time you sleep and the lower quality of nightmares I get to give.“ 

He pushed a hand through his hair. “If she had any interest in talking to you, she would’ve. If she was concerned about you, she would’ve said something. People vanish to do one thing. Move on. And that’s what your fucking chubby ass needs to do.” He grabbed Em by the jaw. “Stop waiting for someone who does not give a shit.”

“Hi, Em.” Jack dangled between them. His face split. “What’s up?”

Em wrenched his face out of Clown’s hands and fell back. “Could you stop with the face, please?”

Jack blinked. His face stitched back together, one vein, one muscle at a time. “Sorry.”

“Someone’s having a crisis again,” Clown muttered, fishing another cigarette from his pockets.

“That’s, like-” Jack paused, counting on the tips of his fingers. “Five times this month!”

“Down!” Alexander yelled. His wings fluttered agitatedly. “Down from thirteen last month! We’re doing good.”

“You’re doing good,” Em correct, burying his face into his pillows again. He waved haphazardously at the two behind him. “I dunno what they’re doing but it’s not good.”

“Hey, I am a neutral participant in this ride.” Jack collapsed from the air onto the floor. As he rose to his knees, his face flickered again, caught split down the middle in a half-scream. “Alexander’s my reason for being here. I go where he goes.”

“Face, Jack!” Em snapped, swiping his hand through Jack’s face.

Jack blinked.

It did nothing.

Em scowled and rolled over.

“You have other friends,” Clown snapped, lighting the end of the cigarette. “You have other options. You think this fucker is sitting around all miserable and lonely because you are? No! They’re enjoying life without you. Starting doing the same, yeah?”

Steeling him with a volatile gaze, Em pointed at them. “Don’t fucking smoke in here, you jack ass.”

Clown peeled the cigarette from his lips and exhaled a ring of smoke into the air. “Fuck you,” he said before putting it back into his mouth.

“Maybe she’s just busy. Two weeks? She’s probably just moving back in,” Alexander said, patiently, perching himself atop the bed. His wings fluttered up, blocking Clown’s entire presence, half-phasing through Jack.

“Yeah, but if he’d never said anything, it’d been, like, a month or something,” Jack said, prodding a statue of a horse. He jerked back when it moved.

“You’re not helping,” Alexander hissed through gritted teeth.

“Neither are you,” Clown snapped. “Why the fuck would you want him to stay friends with this kid?”

Bursting golden bright, Alexander swirled on them. “She makes him happy!”

“So do cats!” Clown pinched the bridge of his nose. “And an hour of happiness between weekly spells of overwhelming misery do fuck all in this situation.” He pointed at Em. “Jack’s right, you fuckup. If you hadn’t spoken a goddamn word about it, she wouldn’t have said anything, she wouldn’t have fucking bothered. You stopped for three days and she didn’t care. Why in the goddamn world would you think she’d care now?”

“STOP!” Alexander’s wings dropped, heavily crashing into the floor. The house shook. “She cares. She’s just busy!”

“Too busy for a check-in? Too busy to say hello?” Clown shoved Alexander. “It’s only been two weeks since he stopped talking. It’s been more than a fucking month since she’s said anything!”

“It’s been three weeks!” Alexander protested.

“A FUCKING ONE SENTENCE JOKE DOES NOT COUNT AS A CONVERSATION!” Em screamed. He punched the dresser beside him and swore violently.

“You feel better now?” Clown laughed.

“Fuck off!” He wrung his hand to his chest and winced. Thickly, he swallowed. Te world around him grew small and tight. He sighed. “It wasn’t a conversation, Al. It doesn’t count.”

“But-” Alexander wilted. “She said something.”

“It doesn’t matter. Clown’s right, I have other friends. People who actually talk to me and want to get to know me.” Em pressed his uninjured hand to his forehead. “I just- I thought this one might actually go somewhere. And she- she made me happy. I liked her. I thought-” He wilted into himself. “I dunno, I thought she liked me too.”

“It could’ve gone somewhere,” Jack said. He flopped out at Em’s feet. “Maybe it did. Somewhere. Sometime. A thousand light years away.”

“Look, kid, the fact is she said it herself. Time and again. If she were interested in changing herself, she would’ve tried.” Clown exhaled, smoke filtering out of his mouth, ashy and twisted. “An attempt over the course of the week is not the same.”

“Didn’t your parents fail to keep trying after a week?” Jack asked. He frowned. “They kept being mean after just a couple days, right?”

Em fell back. “Yeah. They did.”

Jack frowned deeper, the split in his face drawing further down until it cut above his lip. “Why would you want to be friends with someone like your parents?”

“Hey!” Alexander swatted Jack’s head. “She’s not like his parents. She’s just-”

“Uninterested. Stop pining after a person who doesn’t have any interest back, fuckup,” Clown said. “Isn’t that why so many people hate the trope?”

“I’m not pining,” Em grumbled.

“You’re wasting time on someone pointless either way.”

“Maybe I’m just wasting time in general,” he huffed. “And I don’t really have anyone do I? I have my real life friends, who I only see in the confines of work or school, both of which are done with by now. They don’t really share any of my interests.”

“But they like you and they listen to you about your interests because you do the same,” Alexander pointed out. He smiled, brightly bright and golden. “Isn’t that what friends are for?”

“Which, by the way, Angel,” Clown sneered, “goes to show how much she put into you. Do you think she knows anything about your favourite things? What you like?”

Em rolled over, ignoring them both. “And there’s Corrie. She’s great.” He rubbed his jaw. “But she just-” He sighed. “-complains a lot. About the same things. And when I complain about anything it somehow turns into being about her and her troubles. But she’s nice and I like her and we share the same temperament so it’s worth it, I guess.”

“Look, the important thing in both scenarios, is that they actually talk to you and check in when it’s been too long and like you.” Clown snapped his fingers. “This kid did that early on, shit happened and suddenly you became a thoughtless memory. You think you exist outside your conversations? No. You don’t.”

Em stared at the trail of ants leading from the crack in his window to just behind his dresser. “I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired, shithead. You have depression.”

“And anxiety!” Jack called out from the closet. “Also there a lot of weird bugs in here!”

“Why are you in the closet?”

Jack poked his head out through the door. “I’m bored. You guys got it handled so what am I for?”

Em rolled onto his back. “Jack.” The ghost lit up. “What do you think?”

Jack phased out of the closet doors, frowning. His face was surged together neatly but a hairline fracture against the skin peeked from the very top of his head. “I think you should do what’s gonna be best for you. If you want to talk to her, you should. If you know it’s not going to lead anywhere, then don’t.” He shrugged. “At the end of the day, you’re still a kid. There’s no pressure on you to settle down and only deal in people who are going in the same direction as you. You hve time.

“But-” Jack crossed his arms behind himself and sighed. “-you know what you want, you know what you need from people right now and if she can’t fulfill even the basics, then what’s the point? She said she couldn’t but that she’d try and then she did for a day and half and then she stopped. You don’t have to deal with that, if you don’t want to.” He dropped his arms to his side and grinned ruefully. His body glitched and his face cut open again, smile half broken. “You have enough to stress about, why bother adding more?”

“But maybe she’s just-”

Jack cut his eyes at Alexander, who went mute, face pinched annoyed. “Whether she’s busy or not, he’s already said to just pitch in once a week. We asked for the minimum, she couldn’t provide. Why stick around for someone who can only deal with what’s in her immediate surroundings?”

“He’s got a point, Al,” Em muttered. He fell to his side, pillows exhaling air like they were living. “And I’m tired.” He rolled over to his stomach and buried his face into the cool side of his pillow. ”If she wants to talk to me, fine. I don’t have the energy to deal with someone who doesn’t care.”

“Excellent!” Clown clapped his hands togehter rapidly. “Okay, man-eating clown or violent eldritch horror of darkness?”

Em yanked his ppillow over his face and huddled into the middle of the bed. “On the other hand, being miserable stopped the fucking hallucinations.”

“Are they really hallucinations if you only see them in your mind when your eyes are closed?” Jack asked. Alexander pulled out his sword and cut through a messy mound of black goop rising out from under Em’s bed. Jack stared at the hissing goop and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go stamp down the barriers.”

Em jerked as a sudden hand tore through his stomach. He glanced down at his chest and saw nothing but the image remained, follow by a succession of sword dousing up and down through his throat. He squeeze his eyes shut and rolled over. “I hate everything.”

[kurinoot]

[day 4] four priceless treasures | sawamura daichi

-> the pandemic sure has limited us from meeting our loved ones physically, but even the pandemic can’t stop you from showing your love to your boyfriend this valentines’ day.

pairing: daichi x reader

themes: fluff, post-timeskip, pandemic au, flashbacks and all that stuff

word count: 2268 words

note: struggled a bit on this one bc I had to change a bit on specific parts of this fic after proofreading :) + my proofreader friend by the name of @msmeowski​ (who is a HARD daichi stan) didn’t allow me to post this one until it’s p-e-r-f-e-c-t lol but anyways, tell me what you think about this! and lastly, don’t forget to stay at home and be safe! also, I included a spotify playlist as a hyperlink somewhere in the story to add to the experience while you’re reading :)

You stared at your phone, texting your dad about your quarantine situation about giving him an update on your status before he replies with a ‘take care, I’ll see you soon.’ as you toss your phone on the bed and strode to the hotel balcony, taking in the solace of the wind blowing through. Luckily, it was your last day in quarantine and no symptoms have been detected so far. All you were waiting for were the results of your lab testing, and if affirmed negative, then you’re free to go back home.

You were then disrupted when your phone rang an oh-so-familiar tune that was meant only for him. With haste, you lay on the bed as you answered the call.

“Da~i~chi~!”, you teased with a short giggle “Did you receive my gift?”

“About that...can we have a video call?” Daichi asks as he clutches the parcel closer to his body. You hum in response, signaling a yes to at least see his face and see him open your gift. Giddiness fills your inner being before switching to a video call.

A few seconds later, your boyfriend graced your screen, still wearing his police uniform. Noticing you appearing, he flashes you a warm smile, happy to at least see you again albeit virtually. You gave him a warm smile, grateful for this opportunity that you got to see him again, and oh how you want to see and feel him ripped in his police uniform in the flesh.

“It’s a box.” Daichi replies as he closely inspects your gift for him for the day. You gave off a laugh as you rolled on your belly, kicking your feet on the air by his response.

“You sound rather disappointed,” your lips smirked with a mischievous thought in mind for him, starting with the box. “Were you expecting something more?”

Daichi flushed red as he looked away from the screen. “Not that I’m selfish, but I was expecting you. I really miss you, you know?” You could not help but get flustered at his honest response, since you’ve been away from Japan for a couple of years now.

Daichi clears his throat. “Are you doing okay? I know it’s been stressful for the past months.” while he lethargically removes his police vest. You can tell by the way he removes the vest and his dark circles under his eyes.

“I'm fine where I am, Daichi. No need to worry.” You calmly reassure him as you walk to sit down on the balcony chaise, looking at the sky while listening to Daichi's sexy voice. He chuckles as he weakly throws his police vest somewhere in his room, feeling the exhaustion taking over.

You look at him with concern, “The pandemic’s definitely taking a toll on you. Are you even getting enough sleep?”

He slouched as he ran his hand over his face, fatigue from the workload and the strict measures from the pandemic, answering your question.

“Look, as much as I miss you and really want to talk with you today, I want you to sleep. My surprise, I would say, require some walking.”, You say as your boyfriend who now wears a mask of doubt in his face.

“Anyways,” you continue. “Don’t open the gift yet! At least for today. I have a surprise for you tomorrow, that’s why you better sleep well tonight!”

You can see the slight scrunch in Daichi’s face as he replies “Aren’t you still overseas? And considering the situation, you won’t be back home easily.”

‘Ah of course, he doesn’t know that I’m already here in Japan, yet.’ You smile internally, feeling the anticipation and the adrenaline more as you already lay out your Valentines’ surprise for him in mind.

“Well, I had some help actually!”, you bounced back in reply. Remembering that you had your sibling’s help while you were still in transit from overseas.

“Look”, you say with a stern tone. “As much as I really want to talk to you tonight, I also want you to get some quality sleep. I can tell from here how tired you are, my dear Daichi.” You can hear Daichi let out a deep sigh, stuck between wanting to continue talking to you and wanting to take a good night's sleep.

You continue further with concern and underlying excitement, “I don’t want you to be so tired by the time you get to see my surprise tomorrow. You deserve it so much.” Daichi could only feel giddy as he became flustered at your concerned gesture, before agreeing and deciding to sleep.

Daichi wakes up the next day, feeling rejuvenated from the short conversation you both had last night. He’s fortunate that he has the day off work, as being an officer in these trying times can be proven stressful, and the distance between the both of you is definitely not helping the mental strain. He stares at the ceiling for a moment before he feels the familiar buzz of his phone. He opens his phone to the view of your text message.

You can open the box now!

Without any second thoughts, Daichi picks up the unopened parcel beside his bed. He grabs a cutter from his table and immediately cuts the package open. He slowly unfolds the flaps of the box to find a piece of paper and a used red radio he knows too well.

It’s my old radio... Daichi thought as he pressed the switch, and to his joy, it played a familiar song, albeit slightly static. The music then conjures a special memory of him riding his bicycle as you perched on his back when you were both still in high school. Furthermore, he could see the all-too familiar red radio dangling on his bicycle, playing the songs you both like.

You watch as the view of the Miyagi prefecture passes by, watching the sun set in the distance as Daichi pedals the bicycle on the way home with his old radio dangling on the right handle, playing Bread and Butter’s Summer Blue. Your arms tightened around his waist as your eyes closed, relishing the warmth of his broad back as your head lay on him, inhaling his mixed scent of salonpas and sweat after volleyball practice with hints of cologne. A smile plays on Daichi’s lips as he feels your warmth surging through him.

‘Summer blue, summer blue…

Sora dake ga aoi...’

The music started to fade in the background as it continued on to the next song.

He can’t help but clutch his chest in happiness and love, as he feels a surge of contentment in his veins. He closes and smiles as he immediately thinks of the precious memory. A tear then slips through his eye, missing your physical presence. He then wipes the tear that has threatened to pour more before starting to prepare for the day ahead. Relieved from the catharsis, he pulls out the piece of paper from the box earlier and reads a “Here’s your clue for the next surprise!” along with a haiku:

‘The smell of warm broth

Shared by the ramen couple

In the cold autumn’

If his memories were correct, he knew exactly where it was. You were regular customers ever since high school, there’s no doubt that it was the ramen shop that you and he used to go to almost every week, and your shared love for shoyu ramen somehow gave you both the reputation of the ‘shoyu ramen couple’ by the owner, as he calls it.

He saw the same shop from years ago as it exactly was as the smell of the broth enticing him to enter the old place.

The old man who owned the shop recognizes Daichi as he enters before greeting him behind the clear protective cover of the counter, as per safety measures as he went to the kitchen to prepare a special meal, ushering Daichi to an empty seat where they usually sit.

His eyes wandered around the empty place, looking for the possible next clue of the next gift. The owner then comes out with a bowl that has a recognizable smell and serves it to Daichi.

“Here’s your shoyu ramen,” The owner winked at Daichi, hinting at something before continuing, “Specially made, requested by your girlfriend.” Daichi, albeit somehow surprised, folded his hands together with an “Itadakimasu!” before quickly slurping the ramen he loved so much in contentment.

“That girl...her sibling came by saying that your girlfriend has a ramen request.” He chuckled before Daichi stopped to listen to his story. “She thought that you might be too busy to come by so she went ahead and paid for it as your gift.” The owner laughs as he resumes cooking, leaving Daichi in disbelief at the owner before looking at his bowl of shoyu ramen, reminiscing a memory.

As the leaves fall while you are walking down the street in a cold autumn afternoon, you pull Daichi’s hand, leading him to the familiar street right after he had volleyball practice.

“Let’s go to the usual!”, You smiled at him as he followed suit.

The place has seen its years with a smoke coming out from the ventilation shaft with a thick warm smell that led you and Daichi come in further, the owner greeting the both of you as usual with a smile before you two sit at your usual spot near the window of the shop. The owner was familiar with the both of you, eating at his place almost every week, and knows what both of you would order.

“Two bowls of shoyu ramen for the couple!” He teases that left you and Daichi flustered at his statement.

“A-anyways, the ramen w-will get cold if we don’t start eating now.” Daichi says, seeing his cheeks redden as he looks away before he digs in to avoid the awkwardness. You gave off a laugh, making his eyes gaze to you that somehow made him flushed even redder as you perched your chin on your hand, looking at him tenderly.

“Somehow...it makes me happy that we’re a couple.”

The owner tells him as he wipes the counter clean, “Keep her. You don’t find women like her nowadays.” He chuckles as he slips a piece of paper in front of the eating policeman, “She also requested to give you this.”

After a few minutes, Daichi had already finished the bowl cleanly with no traces, quickly grabbing a handkerchief to wipe his mouth afterwards.

“Thank you so much for the food!”, he thanks and waves at the owner before he leaves the establishment to go to his next destination.

‘New Year approaches

As the bell tolls from afar

We pray for good luck’

He chuckles as he reads the paper. “She never fails to impress me with her surprises...”, he breathes optimistically as he wears his mask and wraps a scarf around his neck before going outside.

As he arrived, he noticed the familiar shrine wearing down from the years, but was still being taken care of. A few women, mostly high school girls, prayed for the special day while holding each of their own stashes of chocolates. Daichi went up to the shrine, paying his respects before wandering around, looking for the next clue.

“It really brings back memories.” He whispers to himself as he looks around the place, a smile forming on his lips.

You both stepped in front of the shrine after you both celebrated and lent your wishes for the New Year, with hands and eyes closed in prayer. He could only look and stare at you still, hands and eyes closed in prayer. He smiles at the sight of you earnestly praying.

‘I pray that we would always be together.’

Daichi saw a paper dangling on the tree along with the other wishes, taking what seemed to be your final clue.

‘As the storm passes

Spring has finally come home

Awaiting blossom’

His eyes widen in realization as he rushes back to his house, only to find it unlocked. He catches his breath as he opens the door, without any second thoughts, he removes his mask as he enters to look for the final gift. He finds a couple of luggages sitting in the middle as well as a paper he knows too well. He inspects it further, shocked to see your name along with the words negative written in the results.

Daichi then scrambles as he hears the sound of the nearby bathroom door open, only to see you wet in your towel. You immediately went red in embarrassment before Daichi, overfilled with longing and excitement, rushed to ensnare you into a tight embrace despite your towel-clad body. You hold your breath further as he places a deep kiss on your lips, immediately tasting the shoyu ramen you know too well. You could only drown yourself in his kiss as you slowly close your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You both break the kiss afterwards, panting as Daichi pulls your head over his chest, longingly hugging you.

“I was expecting that you would be home a little bit later. I even haven’t dressed for you yet!”, you pouted as you rested in the comfort of Daichi’s arms.

Your boyfriend could laugh, flustered with the state of your undressed state, “I missed you, Y/N. I missed you very much.” You could only hug him tighter as you both smiled.

“I’m home.”

He smiled before kissing you again, but this time passionately as he embraced you once more.

“Welcome home.”

back to valentines masterlist

[moved-to-klirk-hammurton]

Punisher Fan Fiction Chapter 3: Trouble

The next morning, Frank opens his eyes to see Nadya nestled comfortably against his bare chest. He smiles to himself, folding one arm behind his head as he curls the other around her shoulders. He caresses her arm tenderly and closes his eyes again; for once, he had slept soundly without any nightmares. He woke up to his body being completely relaxed. He didn't ache and didn't feel worn or tired. His mind and body were finally at peace. It felt good to him to feel this way. Taking in a deep breath, he exhales contentedly. All was well until his cell phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand beside his bed. He jumps at the sound, going into an alert mode but sighs heavily as he realizes that it's only the cell phone. Rubbing his temples, he carefully reaches for it and rolls his eyes as he recognizes the number belonging to his old friend, Micro. Frank rubs his eyes with frustration as he flips open the phone.

"This had better be good Lieberman. It's-" Frank begins to scold before looking at the phones screen for the time, "it's five o'clock in the morning. Unless someone is dead or dying, you'd better have a damn good reason for calling this goddamn early, David," he'd threaten Lieberman with a growl to his voice. A heavy weight of regret started to weigh on Franks chest as it seemed like history was repeating itself again.

"Remember that mob family you attacked a few months back? Well, they're back on the grid Frank, and they are not happy. I've been getting pings all over Hells Kitchen, NYC, and even down in New Jersey about their activity. I don't know what you did, but I think they're planning on going to war...going to war with you Frank...With the Punisher. You've really gotten yourself into some trouble this time," Lieberman says on the other line. He was a scruffy looking man with an unkempt beard and thick, curly hair that nearly resembled a small afro, yet he was ex military just like Frank. Lieberman rubs his forehead with his middle and index fingers, along with his thumb as he could hear the heavy breathing from Frank through the phone.

"Names Lieberman, I need names. Who am I dealing with this time? Who's stepped up, who's working for who now? Where are they establishing themselves, where's their hideout, their business partners and allies. I need information Lieberman!" Frank finally snaps at him. The harshness of his voice causes Nadya to jolt awake from her sleep. Her chest heaves as she looked around the room before finally seeing Frank on the phone. From the harsh expression on his face, she could tell he wasn't happy. His jaws were clinched tightly as a tic had worked into his temple. The shadow that was cast across his face was darker near the orbitals of his eyes due to his brow being furrowed with frustration.

"Wait wait wait, one question at a time Frank. I'm only just now getting this information. You gotta give me a few minutes to work my magic to figure_" Lieberman begins to explain before being cut off by Frank.

"Get me everything you can, then get back to me David," Frank says before closing the phone to hang up. He looks at Nadya and cups her cheek in his hand. The words of Lieberman shook him to the core, causing flashbacks to zip through his mind and cloud his vision. It was like one of those old reels of tape on a constant wheel of repeat, replaying the same portion over and over again, except it was a horror tape. He couldn't help but to see his beloved Maria smiling and laughing with him one minute, then the next there she was...dead on the ground with blood splattered on the face of a porcelain horse on the carousel. His ears became clogged with the piercing screams of his children as they saw their mother gunned down before falling victims themselves of the gun fire. Suddenly, Frank feels a sharp pain in his chest that causes his body to grow stiff and cold. The pain causes his vision to come back into focus as he gulps down air to clear his head. He could see Nadya now sitting up in bed. Her eyes were wide, but soft and full of concern as she looked at Frank.

"Frank? Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Nadya remarks to him. What she didn't know was that he did see a ghost. Three to be exact. The ghosts of his past that still seemed to weigh him down like a ball and chain. Frank rubs his eyes with his index finger and thumb with a sigh as he nods. Even though he shook his head 'yes,' his eyes still said otherwise. His expression looked as though he had taken a swift kick to the balls. His brow ridge was furrowed and pain riddled his eyes. That's when he did one of the most painful things, he offered a small, warm smile to her and nodded. He didn't want to worry her first thing in the morning.

Pulling Nadya close, he kisses her forehead. "Yeah, I'm okay. Nothing to really worry about," he assures her before standing up with a stretch. The phone call seemed to have taken quite a lot out of him, but he wouldn't show it. At least not blatantly. Parts of him still wanted to hold onto last night. Thinking back to it caused a small chuckle to rise into his chest as he smirked inwardly at the thoughts. Each step he took towards Nadya, the more his hand began to let go of the ghosts of Maria. He wasn't ready just yet to let go, but he had been living in the past for way too long now. It was time to start letting go and start moving forward.

"What did David want? You didn't sound to happy with him," Nadya inquires as she stiffly scoots towards the edge of the bed. She looks up to Frank and arches a brow to him. "I know that look Frank. Tell me what it was. What is it: DEA, FBI, CIA...ANVIL?"

As she listed off the names of the different organizations, Frank could feel himself growing more fearful. Even the Punisher himself had fears he hid under that cold exterior. He clinches his teeth as a tic worked into his jaw from him grinding his teeth. Using his thumb and index finger, he rubs the sleep from his eyes and exhales a sigh, knowing that Nadya was bound to discover the truth one way or another.

"I don't know which is going to be worse: Irish, Italian, or the Yakuza. All three are in an uproar right now and Micro has gotten intel on them that they're bound to make a move soon. Their target is right on my head, and yours..." he finally breaks the silence. He turns to look at the sounds of the sheets ruffling as Nadya stands up and walks to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind and rests her head against his spine.

"Then we'll have to swing back harder than last time. We'll make sure they stay down with no chance of getting back up," she says against his back. "Sic vis pacem pera bellum."

~o0o~

LOCATION 155 & Broadway Manhattan, New York County (Manhattan), New York, USA Time: 12:45 PM

Black suits filled both the interior and exterior of Trinity Church Cemetery and Mausoleum in Uptown for the funeral of the beloved familia captain, Anthony "Tony" Gambino. He was a capo to the Gambino familia within The Five Families of New York. A light drizzle fell upon those whom were at the cemetery and funeral home to pay their respects.

"Poor son of a bitch," Angelo says as he looks at the closed casket that held the remains of Tony. He rests a silver crucifix necklace on top of the casket before looking to Tony's father. Franceso was edging close to his mid 80s, but he didn't let that hold him down. "I'm sorry about Tony, boss. I really am. May God bless his soul and_"

"Ah hold that shit. Tony was far from being blessed...that stupid son of a bitch. Getting into shit he wasn't supposed to. Now look atcha. I gotta bury your ass. And of all days too eh? You had to die around the day your great grandfather got murdered by those damn cops, didn't ya?" Franceso curses at the casket with sadness and frustration. "Dammit...God forgive me..." he mutrers, touching his index and middle fingers to his forehead, gut, and each shoulder to mark the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Francesco slowly walks back to a pew within the church and takes a seat to get off of his weary feet. "Tony...my only son. He was the best damn Capo in Clinton. Who woulda guessed he'd get whacked by that hot cat in town. What's the media calling him now eh? Da Punisha. The goddamn Punisha."

Angelo nods as he listens to the old man. Taking the hand of Francesco into his, Angelo kisses his rings, "we'll get 'im boss. I promise ya that. That Punisha bastard ain't gonna be no more once we get our hands on 'im. Just tell me what you want done and I'll do it. I'll bring ya back his head or cock, just name it and I'll cut it off and give It to ya in a silver platter." Angelo tells Francesco before being cut off as other capos come to pay their respects to Francesco and his loss.

"I'm here on behalf of Johnnie. Poor bastard couldn't make it, but the Bonanno family sends their regards. We're here for ya," Vinnie tells Franceso before kissing the elders rings and taking his leave for others to follow suit.

By near 4 PM, Anthony's casket was laid into its final resting place within the mausoleum. Francesco rests his weight on the cane he carried around for balance as he says his final goodbyes to his son. He turns attention to Angelo, "Ang...Angelo my boy, you've always been like a son to me. I'll accept your offer. Bring me that son of a bitch alive. I want that bastard ta' hurt like I've been hurting watching ol' Tony have to fade away the way he did."

"You've got it boss. Anything for you," Angelo agrees as he glances around to be sure there were no stray ears eavesdropping on the duo. "Should I put a hit out in him? Have one of us bring him in alive for ya so we can cover more ground? I'll get the Bonanno and Columbo families in on it. They've always got your back."

"Yes, yes that will certainly work. For now, let's allow Tony to have a day of peace. Tonight, we'll be having a very special night of poker," Francesco tells the young capo before lighting himself a cigar. He takes a long drag, exhaling the plume of smoke up into the air. He was pained, but he wasn't about to let that show. He couldn't let his men see him cry. He couldn't show weakness. He was mad and pained. He wanted blood. He wanted Frank's head.

~o0o~

LOCATION 210 E 46th St, New York, NY 10017 Sparks Steakhouse Time: 8:45 PM

Sparks Steakhouse was a big time hangout for the Gambino family. It became a big part of their territory thanks to the old mobster, John Gotti. Francesco sat at a booth with several of his closest capos. The round table was cluttered with empty beer glasses and bottles. Several large platter sized plates were stacked in the center from a more than hearty meal. Steaks, shrimp, mozzarella sticks, and lobster bread were just some of the items on the menu that night in a way of memorance for Tony Gambino.

"Ah hell, I don't think I can stomach another bite," Paulie states as he rubs his overstuffed stomach. He was a fairly new capo, but he knew how to get shit done within the family. "What's the special occasion, Francesco?"

"You shouldn't be askin' me. Look to ya unda boss. He's got everything that you're gonna have ta' know," Francesco tells Paulie as he points to Angelo with his cigar before taking a drink of his scotch.

"Fellas, as you know, we're here in a way to honor poor ol' Tony. Three months ago, we took a pretty hard hit from that rat bastard, son of a bitch, named the Punisher, and because of him, we lost our beloved Tony. Yeah the bastard was a loose canon, but he was our loose canon. I'm gonna miss that bastard," Angelo says through a fairly shaky voice as he tries to keep his emotions at bay. "Today, I made a promise. It's not a promise just to Frankie, it's a promise to Tony too. We're gonna find that Punisher bastard, and we're gonna make him pay. He took something from us, so now we're going to take everything from him. He hurt us, so we're gonna hurt him. I want that bastard delivered alive."

"Can we rough him a bit? I'd like to make that motha fucka bleed for what he did to Tony! Oh how I'd like to cut that fucka's balls off," Joseph "Sonny" says as he slams a fist down on the table. "I've got a few guys that could help track him down for us. Couple of loan sharks, a few clean up crews. I'm sure we can find him somewhere. He primarily operates in Clinton, right?"

"That's what the media says. If he ain't there then the son of a bitch knows we'll be after him. Let's a get a move on this fucka and take him down," Angelo says before lifting his glass of whiskey. "His head is gonna be yours Tony. We ain't letting you die in vain Ton. For Tony!"

The rest of the twenty six men at the table raise their glasses and beers with a cheer of 'for Tony!' across the table. The men all meet each other's glasses before downing their drinks and setting their glasses on the table.

"May the Punisha huntin' commence boys," Francesco declares with a crooked grin and sets a wad of bills on the table to pay for the meal.