#goodnight/morning/evening folks <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

memorylang · 2 years ago

Text

To Mongolia at Last | #59 | October 2022

I wanted to mark this week’s International Volunteer Day with a key milestone on this blog—my return to Peace Corps service. Chronologically, my last blog story before evacuation was #28. 31 tales later (the same number as the new Peace Corps Mongolia cohort), I resume my Peace Corps Mongolia stories with this #59.

Before landing back in Mongolia, I was visiting among North America’s most famous places, New York City. From there this time, I’d head back to Nevada. To my surprise, I would even meet someone there from Mongolia. I would help her learn more about my country while we spectated American football. Then I partook in a special walk before heading back to Vegas for packing and friend farewells before departure.

All the while, my ability to return to Mongolia hinged on a negative COVID-19 test. So I did my best to stay cautious around those with whom I met. I’d take the test in Vegas. Passing, I could return at last to Peace Corps Mongolia.

New York Arts

I pick up from rainy Wednesday, Oct. 5, 2O22, the day two months ago when I intended to fulfill a bucket list item that I hadn’t realized till this year that I could fulfill. Such was to to see a musical on Broadway. Both a long-time friend Evan in Reno and a recent friend I met on the death-defying decent from Grinnell Glacier in Glacier National Park this summer assured me I could do this for cheap. This day I go try it.

For $49 I see my first show on Broadway. It stars Hugh Jackman in “The Music Man.” This was one of two shows (the other being “SIX”) that my friend Evan recommended. Stil I had just seen in Jamaica Plain one evening during the preceeding week that Hugh Jackman agreed to play Wolverine in “Deadpool 3,” I feel even more amazed. For from the moment Jackman proudly reveals himself with a sly grin at the first number’s end, our crowd goes crazy. Hugh’s hilarious, sings, dances and performs superbly. He seems to me among the greatest showmen.

Opposite Jackman performs an unfamiliar star Sutton Foster, who dazzles, brilliantly. I’m amazed by how comically she emotes. Her numbers, “Goodnight, My Someone” and “My White Knight” pierce me. Her mere expression during the Act I finale captures so many feelings of conflict. She plays a delightfully stoic yet playful person. From grumpily messing around during “Marian, the Librarian” to the way she kicks her leg when exiting after Jackson’s character learns the truth, moments like these introduce me to the cheer of world-class performing arts.

I remember too that complimentary Katy Perry concert to which I invited a friend on Ash Wednesday this year. Though that vibe was awfully different, showmanship was huge. America’s filled with such talent.

Hugh Jackman Himself

After curtains close, I see texts from my Reno friend Evan to get him a signed Playbill and to head to the stage doors. I tug a Playbill from a stack then seek directions as to which way to go to find those stage doors. I find my way back out into the wet outdoors easily enough.

To my amazement, Hugh Jackman himself stands with a moderate crowd around, separated from him by only short metal fences. He’s in a casual hoddy and greets people with a calm, warm smile. Before long, he waves his goodbye and ducks back into the cast room. A few other cast members come ‘round back, too, where they greet folks. I’m pleased by how personable the main men are.

The crowd thins after someone from backstage explains that Foster won’t emerge because of how the humidity will affect her hair. I linger a bit anyway and meet performance-goers who were from the Vegas valley like me! Apparently they’re even related to someone who worked backstage on costumes. Since people aren’t signing Playbills because of the pandemic, I sign Evan’s.

I pass by the Winter Garden Theater’s raving “Music Man” reviews as I head forth understanding now the praise.

New York Bagel, Fordham and Central Park

My next morning in New York, my friend with whom I’m staying Christina takes me to wander neighboring Bronxville. Here I'm treated to the quintessential New York breakfast of the big bagel, flavorful cream cheese and characteristic coffee. I taste wonderful flavors involving raisins and hazelnuts. Then I hop aboard the train for my penultimate time into town.

This time my destination is Fordham University. I find my way from the subway to the school’s gate. Like at Harvard, I secure a nice visitor pass online to get in. Inside, on campus, I love its beautiful buildings and grounds. I stop by centers of my interests and get to know staff, too. The worship spaces stun me. Jesuits are awesome.

After Fordham, I head to Central Park. Walking the paths between the trees reminds me of parks in Seattle and Shanghai. I find a scenic, low stone wall beside the Met and sit upon it to finish my coffee and cream cheese bagel from this morning. I feel surprised by the variety of languages I hear from people in passing.

Metropolitan Museum of Art

Then I enter the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I beeline for a Byzantine exhibit as soon as I’m in. I hadn’t even considered a Christian Egypt till seeing these artefacts. Medieval and Renaissance Church works further astound me when I see statues depicting familiar Saints, statues produced centuries ago, around when those very believers walked this earth. I’m baffled that the Met even tore out parts of their wall to get certain pieces inside.

I hustle through the Met’s Asian areas after their exhibits on the ancient Greeks, Romans and Egyptians. I can’t possibly see everything. I recall my priest in Reno even having said the same. I feel nonetheless amazed by what I do see. Most impressive in those final chambers are authentic European paintings, from such artists as Van Gogh, Matisse, Caspar David Freidrich, Turner and more. I actually never get to “Washington Crossing the Delaware.” I peeked through amazing American sections such as the Tiffany windows, though. I figure when I’m next in New York, I better see Washington’s famous painting, first thing.

New York Finale

After the Met, I walk to the nearby Jesuit parish for Mass. It too is gorgeous. After Mass, I linger outside a little, trying to route myself back north to Tuckahoe. My phone’s about to die, though. Meanwhile, people begin to gather for an event. I remember having seen a pamphlet about this event while exploring the parish where I attended the lunch hour Mass near New York University.

I wind up going downstairs to the event hall with two people I meet outside the church. The guest speaker is a Muslim woman from Columbia University (a school I wanted to visit, which was unfortunately too far for me). A young man accompanies her inside. I mention briefly what brought me to NYC, and he asks me about my story. As I begin to charge my phone, we sit and talk for a while. He is very interested in my Catholic discernment, though Muslim. I'm fascinated by his experiences of God. I feel as though back in Southeast Asia.

After our conversation, I continue my journey north. I reunite with Christina and her family for my Last Supper. We celebrate it at a taco place about which they’d raved for days. We're served by friends of Christina's son, which makes the visit extra fun. I even try a kind of street corn (elotes) deliciously flavored with so many things I wasn't expecting! When I get back to the house with the family, I finish my last thank-you card, for them.

The next morning I celebrate Mass at St. Joseph's across from the train station before bidding my last thanks and farewell to Christina.

Journey Back to the West

I disembark the Manhattan train one last time in Grand Central. The train upon which I ride drops me off conveniently nearby. This time, though, I wait in the terminal’s wide, tile lobby, searching for someone. Before long, we spot each other, waving excitedly.

I reunite with one more fellow evacuated Returned Peace Corps Mongolia Volunteer, Monique, M30. She and I hadn't been very close when we were in Mongolia. Still, she had so kindly handwritten and mailed supportive cards of encouragement to me and our cohortmates the month after we evacuated. I especially liked the little leaf shape upon which she wrote mine. To speak with her now in Grand Central feels like getting to know her more fully.

She treats me to a tasty sandwich, an iced coffee and a huge one of those iconic black-and-white cookies I’d recently heard about. I feel so fancy to get to eat in Grand Central like this. It's bittersweet and exciting too to be heading back west, ahead of my next Peace Corps adventure. But I must test COVID-19 negative on Monday to be in the clear. We hope all is well.

As I pass from the New York transit system to JFK Airport, I recall clearly when I first came through New York for my Knight of Columbus conferences. I share with the friend with whom I attended one how I'd returned to NYC. Flying out of JFK also reminds me too of how JFK was the airport from which my Peace Corps cohort flew in 2OI9 to Mongolia via Turkey and Kyrgyzstan. JFK felt different, given my experience at his presidential library and museum the previous week.

While aboard my flight back west, I finish my thank-you letter to the Jesuits who housed me at Boston College. I have a layover in Los Angeles, too, since my itinerary had changed due to flight nationwide cancelations. When I come through LAX, this time, though it feels too familiar. I recall having flown through this airport recently. I remember: I went through here this spring to return to Asia, en route to Malaysia, my first time overseas since the 2O2O evacuation.

Reno and Mongolia

I disembark my last flight and step outside the airport, from which my Bostonian friend Jim whisks me to my alma mater, the University of Nevada, Reno. Mentors Joe and Mike await me. We attend the university president's tailgate (more like a pumped up outdoor party). I consider taking a photo with the president then remember I already had this summer as a senior counselor at Nevada Boys' State 2O22.

I learn from my mentor Mike while recounting my time on Broadway that to be able to see performers’ faces is a luxury. My seat was so good that I could see just about everybody’s even slightest expressions! Now I could see why folks would pay hundreds of dollars for such a seat.

Studet atheletes, cheerleaders and the band show off for us for the tailgate’s end. Organizers acknowledge a woman I recognized on the Board of Regents. I stride across the venue to her. I thank her personally for the help she gave me, in clothes she shared when I first prepared for service before graduating. We chat about family. I acknowledge that clothes I wear now were gifts from my Mongol host family and from my coworkers. I share gratefully that this next week I would return to Mongolia.

At the college football game, I meet Aisulu, an English teacher who's Kazakh and teaches at a Mongol school in Bayan-Ulgii, the westernmost province of Mongolia. Aisulu is on her Fulbright. She had met the Honors College staff with whom I served, who referred her to me. I teach her about American football, which intrigues me me. Up until that night I hadn't appreciated the sport much, except in a select few childhood moments. Our central seats in this stadium probably help, though. Here, we’re right beside the center line. Seeing Aisulu feels like a final step on my path back to Mongolia.

After the Wolf Pack loses, following their attempts to ice the kicker, I ride with Joe, Mike and Aisulu north to where Dad and Tita had parked. My folks decided to see the game too, evidently. I then ride with them back to Golden Valley, where I flop to sleep on the familiar couch that had since moved to another room of the house after the move-in of Ben, future Worthy Brother-in-law.

Lake Reunions

Saturday morning I head for my second October to the memorial walk of my mentor, the late Ryan Lipparelli, in Sand Harbor at Tahoe. I ride with Tina, one of the new scholarship recipients. Tina also picks up Anna, a Czech friend, who wanted to catch up with me on another nature walk since my summer trip to her nation. Along the ride to Tahoe, we connect through stories.

At Tahoe, our group also meets up with Rachel and her boyfriend Robb. I'm glad during the event to get to know Robb better, for he and I had only crossed paths a few times last academic year. As I find out when we chat, turns out he and I had experienced similar phases of limbo between receiving assignments to serve.

I see another person at the walk, too. My eyes touch hers a few times at Sand Harbor. When she greets me at brunch after, I recognize at once she's Mackenzie, my classmate from the Honors College. We hadn't seen each other since May 2OI9 graduation, two weeks before I left for Mongolia. She's pleasant and kind, a scholarship recipient too. Coincidentally, she and another honors classmate Mackenzie both when to law school.

Fellow Catholics, Christians

This coming Monday would be Columbus Day. So that Saturday night, I and my Chinese Catholic friend Joseph head with Bostonian Jim to a party at Immaculate Conception with local Knights of Columbus. I find hilarious a comment one makes after Joseph's introduction of studying cognitive brain science, “You won't find any of those here!"

The next morning I sleep in, given heavy sleep deprivation. When I arise mid-morning, there’s one more person I need to see. Grand Knight Tim gives me a ride to where our fellow Worthy Brother Evan has lived, from which Evan would be about to move. Evan is paraplegic, so he can’t often leave home to see us, hence why we visit him. I deliver to Evan the signed Playbill, which he accepts, with a gracious grin. We reminisce about his time in this house. I recall visiting here as an undergrad and praying with him throughout the pandemic. We see again there Evan's friend Malcolm, who’s also served around the world.

Vegas

I take for Peace Corps my COVID-19 test Monday morning in Reno then mail it before my flight takes off. My results travel Tuesday to Quest Diagnostics while I’m getting my bearings back in Vegas. Wednesday morning before I’m out of bed I have an email.

My test results came back negative. I report the news to Peace Corps. I receive that afternoon my medical clearance. At last, I’m cleared for take-off. In under two days, I’m to leave for service.

Where I Learned

I give an invited talk at my high school alma mater A-TECH that same afternoon I’m cleared. I visit with teachers I missed back when I came back around with a friend during its open house the month before, in September. I drive home after the visit.

As soon as I arrive, I notice I have a text from our diocese’s vocations director. I’d forgotten about our meeting. I call him, hear he had things to give me, and I decide to drive back to see him at a Starbucks on MLK near A-TECH. The site reminds me of a Chick-Fil-A meeting I had with a Dominican Brother not long before. The director and I share a good conversation. He gives me discernment literature for my trip overseas.

Last Goodbyes

Wednesday evening, I'm greeted for farewells by friends Jess, Jared, Victor and Sean. With Jess I reminisce about NYC. With Jared and Victor, we remember the U.S. national parks we’d seen. I look forward to Sean's and Vivian’s wedding. I enjoy the company of these folks. Though I'm only slated to be away for a year, I realize much will change while I'm away. I won’t be around for so many things. But such is life.

I spend Thursday morning packing both the corner room in which I've been staying amid the pandemic as well as my luggage I’m taking to Mongolia. Thursday afternoon are calls with the Honors College Community Advisory Board's executive committee followed by my last stateside call with the Springtide Ambassador Program.

That night is my Last Supper with Dad and Tita, who take me to an Applebee's after Papa picks up Tita from Harry Reid International. I taste a happy hour white peach sangria and enjoy what I expect to be my last big American burger for a while. The sangria's size reminds me of a belated 24th birthday celebration dinner with Mickey in Reno 2O2I. The fact that it's a sangria also reminds me of my Peace Corps sitemates with whom I served in Erdenet. I recall an October 2OI9 get-together with Japanese JICA and another that November too with Korean KOICA.

Last Steps

I pull an all-nighter packing Thursday into Friday. Throughout the night, I sip an energy drink I received in March 2O22 before I'd left again for Asia. Remembering what I brought then helps me discern now what to leave and what to take. I'm permitted two checked bags of up to 50 lbs. each as well as a carry-on and a personal item. Instead of a smaller suitcase that I took last time to Mongolia, I decide my second checked bag will be the hiking backpack I received from a Knight of Columbus for mission. I also decide, considering my trip across the U.S., to take after all my silver backpack, which was gifted by Mom in 2OI7 for my China trip before she passed.

Friday morning, I see Dad and Tita off as they head to their appointments. I forgo morning Mass to keep packing. My friend of recent months Mason arrives Friday morning to retrieve me. He helps me with my last packing and luggage weighing, too. My luggage comes overweight, so I need to set aside many books I would have loved to bring.

From the fridge, I draw my Last Supper’s leftovers and from a bag my remaining candy from Czechia, and we go. During the drive, I notice the completed Allegiant Stadium and remember how it wasn’t finished when I first left for the Peace Corps. I also see the New York, New York casino and feel as though I can’t see its exterior the same way after having been to NYC. The property feels too bizarre to replicate remnants of the American metropolis. As I disembark for Alaska Airlines in Terminal 3, I offer Mason much of my remaining Czech candy in thanks.

Last Battle

"You have three minutes," says the attendant when I approach to check in my bags.

We weigh my bags, which she assures me are well underweight. I relate over text my relief both to Mason and to family then go through security. I’m really to fly.

Aboard the plane, I find “Frozen II” in the film selection. I promised myself I’d only see it again when I was on my way back to Mongolia. (I even saw behind the scenes amid the pandemic.) I watch "Frozen II" for my flight. It's the first and only time I see it after having seen it aboard my final flight during the evacuation. This time, the character Anna moves me instead of Elsa. Anna’s commitment causes me to tear up this time.

I pick up this story when I land, and staging begins. New characters emerge at once. Everything after this begins the Peace Corps Mongolia blog back in full force.

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)

#Peace Corps #Mongolia #memoir #story #Catholic #God #memoryLang #USA #scholarship #Las Vegas #Asia #Seattle #Coronavirus #COVID-19 #Reno #travel #winter #airport #memories

1 note · View note

anaagainstallodds · 1 month ago

Text

Day 1.

I'm angel, but you can call me ana. I'm an artist of some sorts? I mean I guess lmao :D

I sing, rap, and suck at dance also i act sometimes but mostly I annoy people(hehe🥰)

Im 17, a Taurus, also an enfp (I guess that's obvious) ALSO DONT FORGET TO STREAM MY ALBUM "At the back of my classroom" 🗣️🗣️🔥🔥😻😻😻 (ignore the self promo)

I say very random out of context shit, so you've probably seen many memes/audios of mine 💀💀 I'm currently re-watching stranger things (from the season I'm introduced in, which by the way you should watch babe 😻)

So that's it for today folks, good morning and in case if I don't see you again good afternoon, good evening and goodnight <3

ib, @mylifeisinanotherreality

(original credits are in the pic!!)

(:3 but I am my oc, also answering for my fame Dr, also I'll just write a summary lol like it's an interview)

17 notes · View notes

amethystpath-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Pulp

(NOT A PROMPT)

Maybe Hero should have known better than to walk into an alley- especially one where she heard the soft mumbles of a voice oh-so-familiar.

The alley was as anyone might imagine one. Two brick walls put too closely together. A musky smell from the rain that came days ago- shouldn't it have been dry by now? Wrappers on the ground from kids- and adults- too lazy to find the nearest trashcan.

There was yet another detail that many might have expected- a cliché scene, some might have said. Oh, you want to know the detail? Why, of course. Here it is:

There was a man, bloodied and bruised- at least from what Hero could see in the light provided by the street lamps- and he was sobbing now.

"Villain? Villain, is that you?"

Hero thought she recognized the mumbles before, but....well, she'd never seen Villain so...so defeated as this. This man wasn't Villain. He wasn't tortured and starved, maimed and deserted, or lost and delirious.

He was Villain. He was a malicious predator, nearly impossible to take down without sobbing with exhaustion afterwards. Hero hated Villain, always had before he disappeared- before she thought he finally gave up.

"Mm. Iz cld."

"What?" Hero questioned her own question. Was she asking what Villain had said, or to the reason she was still standing here in the cold? Oh, that's what he said.

"A shame you don't have a jacket or something." She thought for a moment, looked down. A flannel was tied around her waist- since she was disguised as a 'normal person.' A citizen, a non-ability-possessing person.

"I suppose this could work. Um. Can you sit up for me so I can like...pull this around your shoulders?" Was the flannel even large enough to fit around Villain's shoulders? Guess they'd both find out as soon as Villain- he wasn't moving. Not at all.

Wait. Why was Hero helping him?

Because he might have changed.

Because he was just as worthy of aid as the homeless guy down the block.

Because he was human.

Because Hero was incapable of walking away from another hurting person.

Seeing as Villain wasn't budging himself, Hero sighed as she squeezed a hand between Villain's back and the brick wall before pushing him forward, and catching him with her other arm. She pulled the flannel clumsily over his shoulders; by some miracle it covered one of Villain's arms while remaining still on his shoulder.

Hero began pulling Villain up, holding one of his arms across the back of her shoulder. The most difficult problem now was that Villain was considerably taller than Hero. She had the strength to hold him up, but just barely as his battered body weighed nearly the same as a dead, unconscious weight. Difficultly, Hero dragged the mumbling and panting nemesis to her home.

***

It took Hero an estimated hour to patch Villain up, running swabs of alcohol over open wounds and pulling white bandages over the same wounds after they'd been cleaned.

Eventually, when all was done and well- as well as it could be considering Villain of all people was sitting on Hero's couch- Hero made herself a pot of coffee, despite it being one in the morning. It was decaf, alright? She flipped the television on and sipped on her tasty, hot beverage until Villain awoke.

***

At first, Villain only grunted, eyes squeezed shut tightly as the light- even beyond his eyelids- was too bright. He growled involuntarily as a shadow passed, relieving him, only to disappear again.

Slowly, Villain cracked his eyes open, only to sit up in a flash as a person he never imagined seeing again stood in front of his blurry vision; Hero.

"How are you- where am- agh." It was now, when Villain was fully awake with such a startle that he felt the pain of his wounds, cuts, and bruises. His head swam for a moment as he screwed his eyes shut. When the dizziness passed, Villain opened his eyes again, finding Hero for a second time. "You helped me. Why?"

Villain would never admit it, but he was humiliated to have been found in such an embarrassing condition. He no doubt appeared so ridiculously weak. And for it to be Hero to find him...how utterly fantastic. Villain internally sighed.

"Would you have rather me left you?"

No. Not entirely. But- "I don't understand why you would help me," Villain said, and now the confusion overtook all mournful thoughts he felt towards his pride. "I was an ass to you."

"You were an ass to everyone"- Hero shrugged- "but your ass needed saving this time, so that's what I did."

"You could have let me die...should have let me." For everything Villain did to Hero, he wouldn't have blamed her for letting him die in that alley. Hell, she should have killed him herself. It's what Villain would have done if...if his own tormentor showed up in an alley- all beaten to a pulp like a lemon in a juicer.

"I could reopen all the wounds and send you back out, but I somehow don't think that's what you actually want." Hero was sipping on something in a coffee mug- probably coffee, Villain had the sense to think. Damn me if coffee doesn't sound good right now.

The blanket on Villan's lap was warm. That coffee in the cup was likely warm. Everything was warm here, warm and...and completely different from the room Villain had begun getting used to after several months of captivity.

Despite not understanding Hero's motive, Villain asked, "Can I stay here- until...until I heal? I'll get it," he said, "if you don't want me. But- but if you'll have me, then-"

Hero shushed him quietly with a finger to her lips. "I don't trust you," Hero said. "Not yet anyways, but yes."

Did she just say-

"You can stay, but only if you tell me who this new villain is."

Easy enough.

"She's not a villain at all. She's Superhero."

166 notes · View notes

smolla-than-a-bug · 3 years ago

Text

core memories

sano shinichiro x reader

for @myakkun’s event !

shinichiro has a secret, and with a friendship where a childhood pact bound you to walking through all bouts of life together, will it be one he can keep from you?

navi | tokrev m.list | event m.list

content — fem!reader, fluff (shinichiro is so sappy i could cry), past! childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, non canon compliant

notes — 2.9k wc. this came so late im so sorry hjsdhjsk i missed writing for shinichiro <3

Shinichiro swore to himself he would keep it quiet. He'd zip his slender fingers across lip, lock it, and flick away the invisible key, never to look in that direction again. Ask him anything, and he knows nothing. Absolutely nobody—not a single soul—can know, or it would take a neck-breaking swing at what dignity he has left.

See, Sano Shinichiro owns a diary. He writes in this slightly aged notebook he bought some time ago but never really found any use for until now, and he’s quite proud of the number of pages, back to back, he’s been able to fill up over the years. But who even keeps a diary anymore? What teenage boy logs the exact date and time on the corner of a blank page and fills it up with his raging thoughts about happenings throughout his day, only to leave it vulnerable in his desk drawer for any creepers to snoop on? Shinichiro doesn’t know anyone who would willingly admit to owning a personal diary, and perhaps it was for the exact same reason in his mind for not telling anyone about his: To lessen the chances of curious folk to read it without his permission. God forbid his own friends and siblings—them especially—find out about it; he’s sure they wouldn’t let up until they’ve read each and every page, and what is a diary if not the biggest piece of blackmail for anyone to have against him?

What started out as an impulse decision to silently scream at inanimate objects through ink on paper quickly became a routine for Shinichiro whenever he felt he needed an outlet. At the end of the day, after putting his siblings to bed and bidding grandpa goodnight, he’d hole himself in the room, sure to click the lock and shut the lights off so his family is convinced he’s off to bed, before quietly pulling the chair at his desk. An open notebook and a pen sit in front of him, and an old desk lamp serves as the single companion to his unrestrained mind.

Despite the dust collecting in the old lamp’s crevices, the nearly rubbed-off paint of the on/off switch, and the dimming lightbulb (Shinichiro notes that he should probably replace it soon, though he knows he’ll most likely wind up pushing the task back until the bulb dies out completely.), it seemed to be a sort of guiding light for the jumbled mess that is Shinichiro’s brain. It would watch over him as he’d scribble everything that came to mind, hunched over the table, and when he was feeling lost or conflicted, a long and hard stare at the lamp would be enough for him to clear his mind and take each train of thought one section at a time.

He never felt the need to hide his chicken scratched words with his arm before he'd finish jotting down everything he needed to get out of his system, entirely comfortable expressing himself in his own space. He'd finish in the wee early hours of the morning, and he'd look at the lamp as though it had given him a smile of approval or a pat on the back. "Tomorrow again," it seemed to say, before he'd switch it off and pass out beneath the covers.

It all began on the infamous Night To Remember that every high schooler looks forward to. While everyone in his grade was probably already undergoing the traditional pre-prom photoshoot at that exact hour, courtesy of overexcited parents, Shinichiro remained seated at the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together, in the middle of a serious conversation with a nick in his wall about whether or not he should still bother putting on the only nice suit he had laid out on his bed right beside him.

He'd been too late to pop the question. Someone other than himself had beaten him to the punch, and it left him questioning whether or not it was still worth it to even attend the event if he wouldn't be with you. His best friend.

His one and only.

A knock on the door interrupted the heating debate between him and his wall. "Leave now or you'll be late," came his grandpa's voice from the other side. Then, the sound of footfalls faded into silence once again.

He was right. Hours had passed and Shinichiro hadn't moved an inch from his position. The most he'd done in all that time was silently argue with his wall about why he should just hide under his blanket and watch sad romance movies whose endings make you sob into an empty tub of ice cream. The damned wall wouldn't let up though, because it brought up a very good piece of evidence that deteriorated Shinichiro's entire will to fight.

You're going, right? I can't go alone, you have to be there with me!, is what you had told him. Shinichiro reminded you that you'd be the farthest thing from alone, but you gave him a look. It's one that says 'I can't do this without you,' and he knows exactly what you meant, having expressed the same sentiment many times before but in very different context.

Your date ended up ditching you for your friend that night, which was really annoying because he saw how excited you were. He was there to see how happy you were to have experienced being asked, but your date wound up breaking your heart—you deserved better than that. He did what any rational person would do; he punched him. He punched the goddamn asshole that decided to walk over you without a second thought, knowing full well that the other guy was much bigger and much stronger than he was. Then, the present chaperones who witnessed the scene had Shinichiro escorted out.

You accompanied him, claiming you didn’t even want to be there anymore. Your night was ruined before it had even begun, but Shinichiro couldn’t let you end the night like that. Not when you were looking forward to it so much. So, he sat you on the back of his bike and drove you out to the nearest pier, where he knew there was a carnival still set up. He tried not to focus on how comfortable he felt with your arms wound around his waist. He tried not to focus on how natural it felt letting you intertwine your fingers, pulling him around the carnival to whatever attraction caught your eye.

When he got home that night, he had the most wispy smile. It didn’t dare leave his face until he flopped on his bed, still dreaming of your touch. Only when he began recounting the events of the night, reliving every single moment of it, did he become overwhelmed with emotions once again, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He shot out of bed, pacing the floor with an uncontrollable grin plastered on his face, feeling every part of himself wanting to scream, but he couldn’t wake everyone up unless he wanted to get chased out of his own home. Thus began his pre-bedtime ritual of condensing his feelings into words and preserving them within the lines of his well-loved notebook.

Now at 27 years of age, Sano Shinichiro struggles to find someplace he can keep such a cherished item. He walks around the faintly lit room looking for a potential spot, avoiding all the untouched boxes with the notebook pinned under his arm. He needs it somewhere easily accessible, somewhere not too obvious, somewhere—

He glances over at the bed, where you’re seated against the headboard, favorite book in hand. The sight makes him stop in his place. What was he trying to hide himself from this time? You’re not his grandpa, you’re not Mikey or Emma, or just anyone. You’re you—Shinichiro’s best friend, someone he believes to be his very own soulmate. (Call him childish for believing in the concept of fated love, but he takes it in stride, knowing the one for him would only ever be you.) During times like these, he’s reminded that marrying you had been the best decision he’d ever made, granted you hadn’t been married long.

The first few days of your marriage had been spent moving into your new shared home, and in the dimness of your shared bedroom, where Shinichiro had previously been looking for someplace secret to stash his old diary, he quickly realizes that his safest bet would be you. His legs carry him to the bed before he can even think about what he’s doing. Before he knows it, he’s already seated smack in the middle of the mattress, facing you with criss crossed legs.

It doesn’t take much for you to acknowledge his presence, but it does take you a moment to process his odd behavior. Your gaze flits over to him, eyes narrowing as you bookmark the last page with your finger. “What are you doing?”

Shinichiro grins. The old notebook he pulls from beneath his arm catches your attention. Its wrinkled pages and obviously worn cover make it look out of place within the newly bought furniture of your home.

“Is this the part where you tell me you’re secretly working to overthrow the government and that that notebook contains all the secrets of the president? You look very suspicious right now, I hope you know that.”

Your husband rolls his eyes, shoving you lightly. “No, idiot…” This is entirely serious. I’m about to pour my entire heart and soul out to you.

Sensing his mood, you turn to put away your book on the nightstand before crawling in front of him, mirroring the way he sits. You don’t force him to get on with it—you never do. You’ve always seemed to trust him to do things in his own time, especially when it’s something that requires a lot of courage out of him. There you sit before him, silently nodding for him to continue. To you, it’s probably just your way of encouraging him, but to him, it’s also how you say that he can trust you. He’s safe with you. A reminder of a pact you’d once committed to as kids that whatever it is, you’d get through it together. So, with his fingers reaching out to intertwine it with yours, he relishes in the familiar feeling of your hand squeezing his.

Quietly, Shinichiro asks, “Do you remember our high school prom?”

He chuckles when you grimace.

Lifting up the notebook, he shows you both sides of the cover. It’s faux leather wrapping is already peeling, and he’ll have to dust it off your covers later on. “I’ve written in this notebook for about ten years now—each entry about you.” He pauses to gauge your reaction, and he feels the tips of his ears heat up. “Earlier, I was looking for a place I could hide it, but then… it suddenly hit me. What’s the point? What good would it do me to hide all the feelings I store for you when you already know I have them? And… I know you said it was okay that I couldn’t give you a gift after our wedding, but maybe this,” he gently places the heavy notebook in your lap, “will do for now.” His clammy fingers begin fiddling with yours, all previous confidence melting away the longer you stare at it. “I know it’s not much, but I was hoping that—”

“Why?”

Shinichiro had to make sure he heard you right. “Well…” He didn’t know what to make of your reaction (or rather, the lack thereof), but when you squeeze his hand again, he looks between you and the notebook in his other hand before continuing. “I never had anyone to talk about you to. I couldn’t get through the house without Mikey saying we were gross and Emma fighting him off about it, and my friends would only ever make fun of me or stop paying attention completely,” he huffs. “I know they mean well, but I had a lot of feelings and didn’t know what to do with myself. Next thing I know, I had a full rant inscribed on a whole page.

“It started on prom night, then the day after when we made fun of your date with a bandage on his nose, then the day I confessed to you, the day I became yours and you became mine, our first anniversary… There were a lot of days when I would just randomly think about you too, and I don’t know, I always felt the need to preserve those thoughts of you so I wrote them down.” He chuckled. “Really, the only important day I’m missing is our wedding day. Since we share a home now, I haven’t had the chance to write on my own.”

You paused Shinichiro by tugging on his hand, leading him to lay on the bed with you before urging him to continue speaking.

He held you close, tucking your head under his chin. “Anyway,” he feels the weight of his notebook where your hand normally places itself on his chest when you cuddle like this. “Would you like to know what I would have written on our wedding day?” He feels you nod against him. “Okay. Dear diary,” he laughs when you snort. “Is it normal to not feel nervous at all? Most people I know get all scared about getting married, not wanting to ruin such a big day or whatever, but me? I just wanted to go home with Y/N.”

Your arms tighten around him.

“I hadn’t seen her all day. I think that might’ve been the loneliest I’ve been since she was way too busy with preparations, and her mom didn’t even let me see her in the bride’s room. Tradition or something, I don’t know.

“When I finally saw her at the end of the aisle though… God. Wow. I have no words. Just thinking about it now is like living through it all over again. I wish I could relive that feeling. After a whole day without contact, and that’s how we meet again? I immediately started sobbing, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Sure, everyone in the church laughed at me, but damn. I really didn’t care what they thought. All I could think in that moment was: How in the hell did I end up as the luckiest man in the universe?”

Staring and talking to his ceiling as though you weren’t even listening made him ramble on and on. Neither of you took note of the time. Only god knows how long you two laid there, you just listening to him talk and talk, preserving all his thoughts in your memory.

He went on about how emotional he was meeting you down the aisle. He described every feeling that washed over him as he said his vows, what he felt listening to yours. He was a whole mess in that church, and he did not shy away from detailing every little reason for it, unashamed that he’s talking about you to you. Somehow, you need to know the extent of his affections for you, and he knows his words won’t do him justice but he hopes you get the message. After the ceremony came the reception, where he was more than ecstatic to experience more firsts with you—first dance as a married couple, first meal, first drink… the list goes on. The reception was also where more tears were shed throughout heartfelt speeches from your loved ones. He wishes grandpa were there to see him; he knows he’d be proud of where he is now. He recounted every single second of the ceremony and reception with the biggest smile on his face, it was as though he could never get tired of talking.

It’s only when he feels a growing patch of wetness on his shirt that he pauses his own speech, looking down to see you attempting to muffle the sound of your sobs with a hand over your mouth. Shinichiro pulls you up with him, wrapping his long arms around you, which you return before fully letting your tears run. “I love you… so much,” you cry into him.

He kisses the top of your head once, twice, then a third time. “I love you more.”

“I don’t deserve you,” you hug him tighter, but he clicks his tongue, pulling you back to soothingly wipe away the tears from your cheeks. “You’re way too good for me.”

“And yet we married, did we not?” He raises his brow before playfully sneaking a kiss from you. “I’ve only ever wanted you, and now that I finally have you, let me prove to you that you’re worth keeping. I can keep this on forever, if you’ll have me.”

He should do this more often, Shinichiro thinks as you launch yourself to kiss him fully. It’s a different feeling than writing it down in his diary for himself to keep. Now, it’s a memory you both share—one you both will look back on later in life, and maybe one you might recount to your children, maybe even to your children’s children. He will never know for sure, but he gets the feeling that your story will be preserved within your family for a long time.

tokyo revengers taglist — @crapimahuman @eriskaitto @sunhee-sun @tallyscottage

282 notes · View notes

esdaleo · 4 years ago

Text

𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 with asahi azumane

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - headcanons about asahi!

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - none. this is just. fluff.

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 - tooth-rotting fluff bc i am in love with this man. asahi azumane x gn!reader

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 - you heard it here folks in im love with asahi. i spend every second coming up w headcanons for him so i decided: why not dump it all onto a soft, fluffy post? also ik this isnt the first time someone has posted something along these lines im not saying im original thanks okay byeee

☆ asahi is one of the softest people to live with, this is no surprise. he wakes you up with a cup of your favourite hot drink, whether it be tea, coffee or hot chocolate. he often prepares it before he leaves for his daily morning run.

☆ steal his clothes all you want, he loves it. when he first sees you wearing one of his shirts, he’s a blushing mess and he can’t form words for the first five or so minutes. you think that you’ve killed him.

☆ if his s/o is accident prone, he would basically baby proof the place. anytime he heard a crash or a thump, he’d come running to ensure that you’re okay.

☆ sometimes it’s the other way around. because he’s so big, sometimes he doesn’t really watch where his limbs are going so he bumps into a table or maybe into the corner of a shelf.

☆ he likes watermelon gum and breath mints, so there’s always a stash of it on his bedside table.

☆ he owns several stuffed animals and keeps them on a shelf in his room, i don’t make the rules here. he has a few that are his favourites, like an oversized teddy bear that he used to hug to sleep everynight.

☆ if his s/o just so happened to have longer hair, he’d love to braid it. despite his big and wide hands, he has a way with hair. his older sister taught him how to braid it, most likely.

☆ the biggest cuddler. ever. the big spoon and the little spoon always changes, even if you’re a lot smaller than him. sometimes, he just wants to be held and let the world around him melt away.

☆ if you’re comfotable with it, he would absolutely LOVE giving you back hugs at unexpected times. he’d be very nervous the first time around, his arms hovering beside you until you leaned back and bumped into his chest as a way to say “it’s okay, you can hug me.”

☆ he likes running errands for you, even if you don’t want him to. his love language is acts of service, so doing things for you is just second nature.

☆ when he’s designing, cleaning, basically going around everyday life, he hums to himself. whether it’s a random tune that he heard on the radio or a nostalgic song that was once sung to him, more often than not you’ll hear him quietly humming to himself.

☆ he always tries to postpone you leaving. he’ll pout at you, “forget” things to get you to look for them, all those things. in reality, he’s just doesn’t want you to go.

☆ patience is key with this man. sometimes, he gets very nervous about things and just needs reassurance. if you give him that, he’ll be by your side forever. just be his little cheerleader. please.

☆ he loves animals. he probably asks you about getting one from time to time and will get so excited if you even debate it. he might seem shy, but he’s easily exciteable, especially when it comes to animals.

☆ he also likes plants. he’ll take care of them like they’re his biological child. he’ll say good morning to them, give them names, water them, all of those things.

☆ as he becomes more comfortable around you, the two of you start having late night conversations.

☆ they can be complete nonsense or they can be about your insecurities, life struggles and more. he always likes it when you have deep conversations, he thinks they’re very heartfelt and that it helps to build your relationship.

☆ after a rough day, he’d want nothing more than to just lay on your lap, stomach or shoulder and listen to you talk about your own day.

☆ he always, and i mean always, asks you beforehand when he invites friends over. these friends are mainly the karasuno team, which is notorious for getting loud. though, more often than not, he only has noya, daichi and sugawara at home because the whole team would be far too many.

☆ if you have an interest, he would let you sit and talk about it and he would listen for as long as you wanted. he enjoys seeing how happy said interest makes you, so he guesses that letting you talk about it might make you even happier.

☆ his number one goal is to make sure that you’re happy, coming off that last point. if the two of you have been apart for more than three hours, he sends you a message reminding you that he loves you and that he misses you. a lot.

☆ goodnight and good morning messages from him are a MUST. whether it’s a small “good morning! <3″ or a lengthy “goodnight ( preferred nickname ), i’ll see you when you wake up. i love you and you look very cute while you’re resting, hehe, (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡”

☆ his favourite nicknames consist of food based ones like honey, pudding and pumpkin. also prince. it makes him feel nice and fancy.

#asahi azumane #asahi azumane x reader #asahi azumane headcanons #asahi azumane fluff #asahi fluff #asahi x reader #asahi drabbles #asahi oneshots #asahi azumane oneshots #asahi azumane drabble #asahi headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x #haikyuu x you #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu

196 notes · View notes

themurderofcrowscollective · 1 year ago

Text

You didn't expect yourself to fall asleep from the soreness in your bones, but you woke up to find the time being 10 minutes before dinner. Knowing no one can hear you, you let out a sigh of relief as you carefully get up to your feet and stretch, almost every bone in your body popping or cracking. To keep up a physique like yours is taxing on your muscles, but the results are worth the soreness. For only a little while, you hobble as your muscles are still extremely sore into the bathroom, washing your face in the sink to wake up more. The urge to go back to sleep is huge but you know you need food before retiring for the night. 10 minutes later you arrive precisely on time, as usual. The canteen is loud and full of people, and you can hear the gossip of your arrival and the things you've done before joining. Of course, some folks stop talking and watch you as you head to get yourself some food. Despite your feats and accomplishments, you know deep down and very well that you have to earn your place here. Even if it means risking your own safety and well-being. As you sit down at the table where the other 141 team is starting to swarm, you eat in silence when Price sits next to you. " Matsuda. " " Price. " " I heard you ripped a new hole into the punching bag from Ghost, only a few can do that. " " I've only followed my training regiment, I've also taped it over. " Price chuckles. " I'm impressed. Tomorrow as soon as you're awake, Ghost is going to be training the recruits with you. " You take a drink of water, nodding. " Yes sir. " The pair of you eat in silence, Soap talking to Ghost about something he did back in his army days and Roach listening in. When you're finished with your meal, you bid them all goodnight and retire to your room. Once your door is closed, you slide your back against the door and sit down, your muscles are so fucking sore. " Ugh... " You don't want to get up, nowadays even putting your pajamas on to sleep is exhausting but you still push yourself to shower and get dressed, blow-drying your hair that'd usually be in a tight ponytail or bun. Having your hair loose and down feels heavenly to your scalp as you ruffle your hair with your fingers, letting out a sigh of relief. As soon as you plug in your earphones and put them in your ears, turning on peaceful music to help you sleep, you're out in seconds as soon as you're underneath your covers. Had it been where you can't listen to music, you'd lie there awake, letting your thoughts run rampant. You hate those nights. - - - The next morning, you're awake 3 hours early like always. You had quietly and quickly gotten ready, softly singing a song to not wake anyone up but to keep your mind occupied also. This time you decided to wear your hair in a low-ponytail style, ignoring the painful pull on your scalp. Quietly making yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, you get some food as well while looking at your phone. 2 hours go by and you're outside at the track, running your own laps around it as it is part of your morning routine. You don't lightly jog or even jog, you run like your life depended on it and after 30 minutes, you're waiting for the recruits to walk out. Once they're all outside, most of them stiffen as you lock your eyes on them, Ghost walking next to you. " Lieutenant. " " Lieutenant. " Before long, you're talking to the recruits. " Good morning, I am Lieutenant Matsuda. For the next few days you will be under my teachings and I expect you to carry them out accordingly. Any insubordination will be quickly dealt with, do I make myself clear? " The recruits agree in a choir of 'Yes ma'am!' " Good. Now get to running, you'll be timed for 30 minutes. Go! " At your command, they scramble to get to running around the track. Ghost stands next to you, holding a cup of coffee himself. " You're going to torture them with more running, hm? " " I may be an expert or even a 'legend' as some would say, but I am not here for fun and games. I expect you to understand that better than most people, Lieutenant. "

'Deep within me is an eternal storm.'

I don't know what this is gonna be cause I'm higher than a kite right now, but it might have some COD (call of duty) shit in this God this weed is incredible (Adding in our OC Yasei 'Hellhound' Matsuda as the person being labeled as 'You', originally a JJBA OC but is now a multi-fandom OC)

You're a new addition to the 141. You were the best of your unit in the army, you follow orders precisely as told, and you have gone through the best of training that was offered to you as well as your intense disciplinary training. Most soldiers who worked with you deemed you a legend in the army, being one super-soldier with little to no mercy when it came to your job. You wear your scars with honor and pride, allowing the whole world to see them. Anyone who was dumb enough to try to make you feel like you were disgusting or imperfect, they had their ass put back in check after you verbally destroy them. Those who found themselves in a match against you were humiliated and taught a lesson in front of the others. Your specialty is hand-to-hand combat and martial arts, since you trained your body with the best trainers and turned your body into a weapon. An impenetrable fortress, some say. In the field, you're fierce and smart and in the base, you're the best trainer there is as well as a dedicated worker. No one knows how you do it without breaking, without showing emotion or any signs of restless nights and no sleep. Even the missions where you're kidnapped and tortured leaves everyone in awe of how you didn't break despite gaining more scars and injuries. You thought this time would be no different, this new team would be like the others where your inner turmoil is hidden by your best features and feats. Oh you are so wrong. - - - Upon arrival with your bags packed, you're met with Captain John Price on the tarmac. Everyone around you are either returning or leaving for missions, but some stop to glance at you and stare in shock. Anyone who had a friend in the army told them about you anyways, but they still were surprised. " Captain John Price, you're Lieutenant Yasei 'Hellhound' Matsuda right? " " Indeed, it's an honor to meet you sir. " Price chuckles as he leads you inside, anyone who wasn't busy stopping to look at you in surprise. A few even quickly saluted to you, but you didn't do anything except walk past them. First Price shows you to your new room, letting you place your bags on the floor before he takes you to the lounge reserved for the 141. " Lads, meet the new addition to our team. " He says as you both walk in, the people sitting down looking at you instantly. You only seem to recognize one person, that being John 'Soap' MacTavish who seems to instantly remember you. " Matsuda? " " MacTavish. " He starts beaming like crazy, he used to come to you for advice on new detonations as he wanted to become a demolitions expert before the pair of you separated. " I'll be damned, I ne'er thought I'd see you joinin' us. " You nod with your eyes closed, opening them again and focusing on the others. " To those who don't know me, I am Lieutenant Yasei Matsuda but you're free to call me 'Hellhound'. " You seem to lock eyes on the man who stands up and approaches you, donning a skull mask. " Lieutenant Simon Riley, also known as Ghost. Welcome to the team. " You both shake hands for a bit, Ghost returning the firm grip you have on him. The next to introduce himself is Sergeant Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, another named Gary 'Roach' Sanderson and then two operators; Konig and Kim 'Horangi' Hong-jin. Price told you about Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo Parra once they got done with their introductions, that the pair are on a mission currently. Price then speaks to the others. " Matsuda's paperwork is still processing but the higher ups allowed her to transfer here, so for the next few days, she will not be placed in missions yet but each of you three will be paired with her while she is on training duty. " He looks to Ghost, Gaz and Soap as he finishes speaking, the three nodding. " You're free to go now, see you at dinner. " And with that, you immediately leave. You have to unpack and head to the gym asap anyways.

10 notes · View notes

dollscircus · 3 years ago

Text

Adenn Baar’ur - Chapter 2

(Merciless Medic)

(Inspired by Stubbychaos Paz x Nurse!Reader fic)

Summary: Finding an injured Mandalorian wasn’t how you expected the night to end; surprisingly forming a strange friendship with “Big Blue” however he begins to realise that you have a connection with another mandalorian which was unknown to you.

Paring: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader. F!Reader & Din Djarin (Siblings)

Includes: Wounds, swearing - Canon typical stuff. Also flirting and fluff.

Words: 2,226

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

A03. (Sometimes chapters are posted earlier on A03)

Tag list is open! Just send me an ask!

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

As you woke up, your body felt so stiff. Letting out a quiet and drawn out groan, you turned your head towards the shuffling sounds. Aki and your cots were only separated by a flimsy scrap of fabric, she was always a morning person which greatly irritated you and you curl into yourself and let out a shudder but you let out a yell when the fabric was suddenly pulled to the side and a body dropping on top of you. Aki shook your shoulders while demanding you to wake up while your arm flew and your hip bucked up trying to kick her off. After a few moments of you and Aki yelling and fighting you both stopped. The woman was still straddling your waist when you picked the pillow up and covered your face with it.

“Get up- Y/N. You oughta get up.” She dropped her head so it rested on your shoulder, her breath brushing against your neck. It sent a shiver up your spine so you rolled to the side and that caused Aki to fall next to you.

“Nope. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You said through the pillow but after you finished you removed the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Aki playfully scoffed and turned her to you.

“Yeah because you took in a patient when you had just done a twelve hour-“ She stopped when seeing your expression, it was tired and soulful. She saw the dried tear tracks under and on your cheeks, her lips parted slightly and her eyebrow furrowed slightly.

“Oh, you had-“ She trailed off as you nodded your head and let out a quiet and sad chuckle, “Alright, get some more sleep.” She leaned in and placed a kiss on your temple.

Aki disappeared down into the infirmary leaving you in the cot again, exhaustion still lingered on your body and mind yet your brain refused to let you fall back asleep. Scrunching up your face and you brought your hands up to your face, cupping your face. Letting out an annoyed groan. Your mind was still groggy as you were waking up so the memories were slowly coming back to you. The thought of Big Blue crossed your mind, your thoughts apron these memories fondly. Smiling slightly as your arms dropped to your side than the memories of Blue mentioning rumours. Rumours about you. You didn’t know if you should be insulted or flattered.

You sat in silence for way too long, after laying in bed for an unknown amount of time. You threw yourself up and off the cot quickly dressing yourself after deciding that you might as well get on with work. You mean, you were already awake. You walked into the infirmary as Aki was sending someone away when seeing you she scoffed and pointed towards the door;

“You barely slept, go back to bed. Medic.” Aki was careful not to say your name aloud. She didn’t know why but you’ve only told your name to her. You never wanted anyone to know your name so you earned the simple name of ‘medic’ or ‘nurse’ around Navarro. However, you must’ve earned a couple of other names that you weren’t aware of.

“‘M can’t sleep.” You scratched the bad of your head, “Might as well work.”

The day went as most days do until the evening - people came in bloodied and bruised you and Aki would patch them up then send them on their way however when it got dark a typically when you would really get the crazies. As you threw away the last bits of bloodies rag, Aki worked to restock the supplies but let out a sharp curse causing you to glance in her direction;

“We’re outta bacta spray.” She groaned while closing the cabinet, “Guess we’ll get some tomorrow-“

You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck, trying to soothe the soreness you felt in your neck. Your whole body was sore, practically begging for you to rest but you continued to work even saying to Aki that you’ll go get some from your usual supple guy.

“You really don’t have to-“ She started, “It’s late and I’m pretty sure Karkolt has a thing for you.” Karkolt was one creepy son of a bitch but small so relatively harmless, you put of a fake smile and replied with a light chuckle that

“I’ll use that to get them for cheap prices then!” Before Aki could protest anymore, you slung a bag over your shoulder and left the building.

Karkolt was your supplier. You weren’t sure where he got his supply’s from but you weren’t going to pass up the discounts you get for having a cute face. Despite how late it was, Karkolt never seemed to sleep so when you arrived at his house you weren’t worried about waking him up. Knocking on the door, you waited for a couple of moments before he opened it without sounding like a horrible person. The best way to describe Karkolt would be unsightly. However, you offered your typical fake smile and tone while greeting him.

“Medic! Lovely to see you!” He greeted, you could smell his breath from where you were standing but you’ve been around him enough time to be used to it.

“Karkolt.” You said, “You got any bacta spray left?”

He smiled, a smile that sent shivers up your spine as he gestured for you to come in. As you walked, his hand hovered over the small of your back. Maker, you were thankful he never actually touched you than all self restraint would’ve gone out the window. Sitting down on a chair as Karkolt disappeared into a separate room, you silence for a few moments while listening to the distant sounds of rustling.

The door slowly opening caused you to jump and your hand to rest your weapon. You've never run into Karkolt’s other customers but you guessed they weren’t all upstanding folks. However, you were presently surprised by who opened the door. Big Blue. It was comical how huge he looked in the door frame, the thought caused you to giggle before greeting him.

“Nice to see you haven’t been stabbed again-“ You said with a smile. He looked you over before replying with an amused voice.

“You following me, Adenn Baar’ur?” Maker, you had forgotten how those words sounded when he spoke them. Please keep speaking. You shook your head trying to rid yourself of that train of thought as you rose to your feet and pointed at him.

“I was here first- Blue. If anything, you’re following me.” Playfully, you tilted your head to the side in mock suspicion before adding, “Besides, I don’t chase after men. Do I look desperate?’ The following few second of silence made you frown but Blue spoke before you could,

“Of course not, mesh’la.”

“Oi, don’t use words I don’t understand. Mandalorian.”

“Or what?” His tone was increasingly playful and you felt a real smile plagued your lips, “You'll throw me across a table?”

Did he just- He did! How did he hear about that? You don’t like fighting- you never go out of your way to start a fight but where you work and who you work with might cause you to. You thought the advent he was referring to was when you had to stop by the cantina to speak to Greef about a payment and one of the hunters decided to get handsy with you. So naturally you threw him across a table- you're deceptively strong and he had to learn that the hard way. You felt your cheek grow warm in embarrassment, is that what you're known for?

“How did you-“ You began to question but much to your annoyance Karkolt returned with bags apron bags in his hands. His presence reminded you, why was Blue even here? Karkolt looked to Blue and greeted him with,

“Ah, I was wondering why you hadn’t picked up your shipment! Nice to see you aren’t dead.”

You glanced up at Blue and he simply nodded at the other man, who seemed to notice how close you were standing to Blue, which you hadn’t even noticed until Karkolt did a double take.

“I wasn’t aware that you too knew each other.” The way he said it was odd, there was annoyance laced in with his fake cheerful attitude. You coughed while moving away from Blue, painfully aware of your actions now. Taking the bags from Karkolt, you pack your own bag while he disappears again presumably to retrieve whatever Blue was here for. You dropped a few credits on a nearby table while throwing the bag over your shoulder. Looking to Blue before leaving you smiled and uttered,

“Goodnight Mandalorian.”

“Goodnight, mech’la.”

“That better be a nice word you’re calling me.”

He followed you to the door, as you stood outside looking in he tilted his helmet to the side as he spoke; “what else am I meant to call you? I don’t know your name.”

“That’s by design. You don’t get that until the fourth date.” You stopped for a second to playfully smirk, “Besides, I don’t know your name either.”

“Also by design.”

“Of course, Blue.”

“Then two dates to go.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, hearing it caused you to bite down a wide smile.

“No this isn’t a date- chance encounter and first time you were stabbed. Not sure about mandalorians but I like my dates to be romantic and not bloody.” You teased but the hardy chuckle from Blue caused you to falter, made even worse by him leaning down so his helmet was closer to your face.

“Then what would class as a date?”

“Are you asking me on one?” Your teasing didn’t give up though, who would break first. Surly not you, you didn’t have an delusions that he was only joking so-

“What if I say I am?“ He cooed, MAKER- dammit. You broke first.

“Then- I would say; I’m almost always at the infirmary. Stop by sometimes.”

“You didn’t answer my question- what would class be as a date? What do you class as a romantic little medic?”

“I dunno.” You tapped a finger on his helmet guessing where his nose was, “Figure it out, Blue.”

Finally you pulled your eyes away from Blue and turned away, hiding the wide smile that shaped your lips and stifling a giggle. You felt like a schoolgirl, giggling over a guy but you said screw it to yourself. This might not be anything, could just be some playful flirting. Whatever this was, it was interesting. You were in a good mood as you approached the infirmary and opened the door. Calling out to Aki but you were greeted by something slightly more concerning.

Standing in the center of the room was a human. You had seen him before- knew he was a bounty hunter. His blaster was pointed towards you, you narrowed your eyes and reached your hand toward your weapon, however he shot at the wall next to you, demanding that you don’t move. Your heart was rapidly beating in your chest, you felt a slight tremble in your hands and legs.

“How may I help you?” You stared, the fear just about visible in your voice.

“The mandalorian- he was here.” You looked him over, finally noticing his poorly patched up wounds and bruised face; You barely hid the amusement at the thought of Blue beating the snot out of him.

“Yes, but he’s not here now-“ You explained

“Where did he go?” He yelled, starting to approach you.

“I don’t know- I don’t follow the people I-“ He was close enough to now so struck the blaster against your skull startling you with the sudden pain, the shock caused you to freeze for a second so you didn’t reach for your weapon. Grasping the collar of your shirt he lifted you up and slammed you into the wall, you couldn’t hear much from the ringing in your ears.

“Where did he go!” He demanded, you could feel him wrapping your weapon and threw it to the side. You grasped his wrists as stared him in the eyes.

“I don’t. Know.” He growled and swung and punched you in the ribs. Winded, you tried to draw in a breath but failed to. Much to your horror, you heard a crack.

“Where.Is.He?” You weren’t a stupid person, so you carried two weapon, a blade withdrawing it you plunged it into his hip. He yelled and pulled back and stared at you before raising the blaster at you. About to fire you raised an arm to defend yourself but the shot never came but a shuffle and loud thud instead.

Opening your eyes while gasping for air, the throbbing pain in your rib kept you from moving too much. The bounty hunter was on the ground while Blue stood above him, relief washed over you as your body tried to fall over but Blue caught you in his arms. You let out a pathetic whimper as the pain clogged his mind.

“So you’re following me?” You teased, your voice was quiet and painful.

“Baar’ur.” He said sadly, “I’ve got you.”

Your vision was fading and your body gave up while you passed out.

40 notes · View notes

qitwrites · 3 years ago

Text

a numbers game

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Kiribaku

(AO3)

Bakugou knows his personality and general rage-filled disposition towards everything, in general, isn’t winning him any favours, but the texts have made him contemplate just how shitty he must’ve been in a past life to deserve a fate like this.

Because no one - and Bakugou knows such assholes as Monoma - but no one deserves to be on the receiving end of unsolicited dick pics. From random numbers. At all times of the day. For the last 3ish months.

“I am going to throw my phone out the fucking window, I swear on all that is good and pure, fucking bull-“

“More dick pics?” Camie interrupts with a wide grin, plucking the phone out of Bakugou’s hand.

“What the fuck else?” Bakugou snaps, trying to pull his phone back in vain. Camie holds it just out of reach, eyeing the disgusting penis with a critical stare.

"Hmm,” she says, passing the phone back to him before taking a sip of her terrible grass juice that smells like a badly mowed golf course, “the lighting is bad and he hasn’t done like, any grooming at all. 3/10.”

“You’re being generous,” Bakugou huffs, deleting the picture immediately and swallowing the still raging urge to fling his phone at the nearest wall. “It’s unsolicited. And his fingernails are fucking filthy. -100/10.”

Camie rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic again Kitkat.”

Bakugou counts to 10 in his head, tries to find that last shred of patience he knows is somewhere deep in his dark pit of a soul and breathes out in a rush.

“I need to fucking figure this out before I actually lose it and track down one of these fuckers and choke the life out of them.”

Because here’s the thing- Bakugou has been receiving dick pics and dirty text messages like hi bby want sex? and imma dick you down gud boo – he’s positively swooning, what a lovely way to be wooed – and he has no idea how to stop it. Yes, he could cancel his number and get a new one, but all of his bank details are linked to this one. He’s had it since he first got a phone in middle school, and now all of his documents are attached to the damn thing. The very idea of going to the banks and the DMV and every other stupid establishment to get it changed makes him grimace hard enough that he decides to bear with it.

Except, every time he receives one of these horrible pictures, his urge to blow up the phone, nay, the entire world, simmers at dangerous levels.

“Cool it kitkat,” Camie croons, giving his forearm a squeeze, “you’re making your homicidal face. That cannot be good for wrinkles.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Bakugou grunts, flinging his phone away carelessly and watching it skitter around on the kitchen counter before halting dangerously close to the edge. “I just want it to stop.”

Camie puts her atrocity for a drink down and pulls the fridge open, rummaging around as she says, “I have a theory about all this.” She pulls out a jar of jalapenos and places it in front of Bakugou. The blonde yanks a fork out of the admittedly cute utensil bucket in the middle of their counter before snapping the lid off and spearing a good 3 pieces in one go. He chews on them slowly and directs a raised brow at Camie.

“Well,” she muses, picking her drink back up, “as a woman that receives a LOT of numbers from guys and gals and non-binary folks alike-“ Bakugou makes it a point to roll his eyes hard enough to knock his head back; Camie’s laughter is loud and boisterous “- I have a tactic for when I don’t know how to say no and don’t want to give my digits.”

Bakugou has another forkful of jalapenos in his mouth when he narrows his eyes at her.

Camie shrugs, “I usually change the very last digit of my number. Works like a charm. I never meet the person again, and they can’t contact me. Win-win.”

“Win-win my ass,” Bakugou seethes. “Do I look like I’m winning right now? I am this fucking close to killing someone, because of stupid tactics like yours.”

Camie finishes the last of her drink, and speaks around her straw, “You say that, but do you know how many people, and especially dudes, don’t take no for an answer? The only reason I give out any digits at all is when I can’t guarantee my safety. I know it’s not like, the perfect solution or anything, but I’m giving you facts right now.”

And Bakugou does, in fact, know that. He’s met those pushy assholes- people that don’t back down, people that don’t take no at face value, people that push and prod and get up in his space. It pisses him off to absolutely no end.

“Whatever,” he concedes. He spears another forkful of jalapenos before grumbling, “So, what the fuck do I do?”

Camie grins, minx like. “Why don’t you text the number one ahead and one behind your own and ask? I mean, in the best-case scenario you figure it out and get it all to stop, in the worst case, you get to yell at like random people. Isn’t that your second favourite pastime, right after yelling at that pigeon outside our balcony, the one with an agenda?”

“Don’t talk about that fucking pigeon,” Bakugou fumes, “fucking piece of shit bird and those dark, robotic eyes. Something is up with that; you can’t convince me otherwise.” He mulls over the rest of her suggestion before relenting, “Well, I guess I could spare a moment to yell at the fucking extras giving out my number to perverts with no manners and gross penises.”

“I find it so funny when you say the word manners,” Camie says as she walks to her room, “It’s almost like you know what it means!”

She isn’t even looking at him, but she manages to dodge the jalapeno that sails at her head. It hits the wall with a sick squelch, and when Bakugou hears Camie’s door shut, he drops his head on the counter with a loud, resounding thunk and muffles a scream into the marble.

He forgets to send out those texts, and when he receives yet another picture, not three days later, of someone holding their disgusting penis in their hand, like it’s an accomplishment or some shit, he sends out a text message to two different numbers typed with shaky, sweaty fingers.

>> xxx-xxx-xxx6 , xxx-xxx-xxx4

I don’t know who the fuck you are, and you don’t know me, but it’s possible that one of you assholes gives out my number to random people who, in turn, send me fucking dick pics. It’s been over 3 fucking months, so knock it the actual fuck off. And in case it isn’t you, fuck you anyway.

Bakugou wakes up from a restless sleep to sunlight sloping in through the blinds of his room, a dry mouth, and three new text messages from an unknown number.

Because his brain takes time to boot up in the mornings, he foregoes the phone entirely and makes his way to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Camie is always up before him, and he gratefully pours himself a mug of her insanely strong black coffee, the kind to palpitate your heart and make you vibrate in your seat. She calls it jet fuel, Inasa calls it death, Todoroki just blinks.

When he’s half a mug down, he finally retrieves his phone from his room and takes a seat in the balcony, surrounded by plants of all kinds. The sun is bright but not harsh, and he takes a second to enjoy it before opening his messages.

He doesn’t even recall sending the messages last night, and for a moment he’s enraged at the idea that someone sent him even more dick pics, but there’s no photos waiting for him, just three messages.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 omg omg OMG I didn’t think anyone actually used this number im sorry D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 no really im so so sorry holy shit I was just following this idea that my friend gave me cause im terrible at turning people down but I didn’t realize they were messaging an actual other person OMG

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ofc I wont be giving your number out anymore im just so sorry bro, god, this is so damn UNMANLY of me

At least the person has the decency to sound apologetic. Not that it tempers Bakugou in any way, shape or form, but he takes note of it somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind.

Bakugou you better not give it out anymore fuckmunch. I should sue your ass for putting me under so much psychological distress.

The guy replies startlingly quickly. Bakugou opens the message with a quirked brow.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 shit can you actually do that?

Bakugou has no idea, but the key to selling anything is confidence, and he’s got enough to spare.

Bakugou try me

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM REALLY REALLY SORRY OK TRULY D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and not just cuz you might sue me or anything, it was a terrible move on my part :’(

xxx-xxx-xxx4 can I make it up to you somehow??

Bakugou huffs, deflating a little. He’s angry yes, positively incensed for the most part, but the guy sounds genuinely sorry, and he’s finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at someone that’s just being so damn decent and taking full responsibility.

Bakugou I don’t fucking know.

Bakugou just stop giving out my no.

Bakugou I swear to god if I get ONE MORE NUDE

Bakugou I will find you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you don’t have to find me ill come to you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 cuz ill def deserve it at that point

xxx-xxx-xxx4 anyway, im sorry again. really ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get some sleep, so tell me later about how I can make it up to you!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 goodnight

Bakugou checks the clock at the top left corner of his phone screen. It reads 8:31am.

What the fuck does this guy do for work anyway? And does Bakugou care?

He decides no, he doesn’t, because he’s really too busy to care about anything, especially assholes that hand out his number to horny strangers because they’re too chickenshit to say no.

He nods at his own conclusion, downs the rest of his death-in-a-cup, and walks back inside, ready to start another long day of work. Bakugou gives himself an hour before he puts this all behind him, fully forgotten and finally taken care of.

Why the fuck haven’t I blocked this fucker yet, is the first thing Bakugou thinks when he gets more texts from them.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 heyyo!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 did you think of anything????? How can I make it up to you??

Bakugou stop texting me, that’ll be a great start

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I will as soon as u tell me how to make it up to you!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I was being so unmanly and cowardly, I need to fix it!!

Bakugou good for fucking you, leave me alone

xxx-xxx-xxx4 y don’t you keep thinking abt it and lemme know !!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 if it helps, I can hook u up with some free drinks!! I co-own and bartend at a place downtown!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just think abt it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get back to work, talk soon!

Bakugou stop texting me dammit

Bakugou isn’t a naïve person, but he somehow convinces himself that this will be the end of things.

It is, predictably, not the end of things.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I just realized I didn’t give u my name

xxx-xxx-xxx4 Kirishima eijirou!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and you are?

Bakugou blocking you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 aww come on man, don’t be like tht ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 wait, r u a man?????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE AT LEAST TELL ME THAT I DON’T WANT TO MISGENDER U OMG

Bakugou can you calm the fuck down holy shit

Bakugou yes I’m a dude, you’re fucking fine dumbass

xxx-xxx-xxx4 oh phew!!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ok my dude

xxx-xxx-xxx4 please come down to the bar??????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 do you actually drink though?? If you don’t we still have great mocktails

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and I can whip up some awesome protein shakes

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ohhh and our food is bomb,,, I promise

Bakugou do you ever just stop talking

xxx-xxx-xxx4 NOPE :D

Bakugou Not a compliment

xxx-xxx-xxx4 what can I say

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im an opportunist

Bakugou you’re telling me

Bakugou fucker

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM STILL SO SORRY

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE COME TO THE BAR LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU

xxx-xxx-xxx4 actions speak hella louder than words

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I must action you

Bakugou what the fuck

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you get what I mean!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 <location> this is the place

xxx-xxx-xxx4 its name is RIOT, u cant miss it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just lemme know when u can make it

Bakugou I haven’t agreed to shit asshole

Bakugou stop assuming things

xxx-xxx-xxx4 free food, free drinks, free live performance of whatever band’s performing

Bakugou …………………

Bakugou I’ll think about it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 HELL YEAH

xxx-xxx-xxx4 whats your name btw?

Bakugou like id tell you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I need it for the reservation!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so that I don’t accidentally serve the wrong gentleman all your free perks

Bakugou didn’t say im coming yet

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im super optimistic

Bakugou I can tell, you’re giving me a headache

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so………… name?

Bakugou no

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I’ll get it out of you eventually

Bakugou try me

Bakugou fucker

If Bakugou finds himself smiling at the end of the exchange, well, that’s his business.

“So, you finally figured out who was responsible for the penis pictures?” Todoroki deadpans around his cosmo.

“That’s wonderful Bakugou!” Inasa booms, slamming his beer down on the counter with gusto. Bakugou throws a spoon at him.

“Shut it Baldy,” he grunts, going back to chopping veggies. “And yes, I did, but now this fucker won’t stop texting me, insisting on making it up to me or some shit.”

“And this is a bad thing?” Todoroki summarizes slowly. Bakugou turns around in time to see him mouth why to Inasa before taking another generous sip of his drink. Inasa shrugs his stupidly large shoulders before asking, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Bakugou throws another spoon at him. “Because, I texted them so I could stop people from texting me. Now this person’s volunteering information to me about being a bartender and shit and constantly apologizing and it’s fucking annoying.”

“You know what’s interesting?” Camie muses, stirring her bloody mary with a long ass celery stick. “You’re getting all these text messages from this bartender, and you can like, so easily block this one number and be done with it, but you like, keeping responding. And keep, you know, not blocking.”

He can’t see it, but he knows Todoroki is nodding, the fucker.

“That is a good observation!” Inasa booms again, and Bakugou has to resist the urge to fling his entire cutlery set at the man’s thick skull. “Do you like this person Bakugou?”

“What’s there to like, I don’t even fucking know him!”

“Well,” Camie starts, takes a bite out of the celery stick, continues, “he’s well-mannered. Clearly good looking, because you got a LOT of penis pictures these past three months, and that also leads us to believe the business is doing really well, if so many patrons come in begging for a number. All good things, don’t you think?”

“I hate you,” Bakugou says, stirring the curry with barely repressed rage. “I hate all of you. I hate humanity. Fuck people.”

“Or fuck this person in specific,” Camie says gleefully. “You haven’t gotten laid in like 8 months boo, you need to get some.”

“You’re the actual fucking worst.”

“In all seriousness,” Todoroki interrupts, putting his empty glass down delicately, “why haven’t you blocked the number? It seems like an easy enough solution.” The asshole has the audacity to sound genuinely curious, if not slightly amused.

Bakugou hates everything.

“I don’t, I don’t fucking know, ok?” He finally admits through clenched teeth. The blonde kills the heat and places the curry on the counter while Camie brings out the rice and some pickled vegetables from the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off before handing it to Bakugou, who snatches it away and takes a quick swig before continuing, “He’s actually kinda nice to me, I guess. And I like watching him be so sorry about all those penises. I may have also mentioned suing him for psychological distress.” Bakugou catches Todoroki’s gaze. “Can I do that?”

Todoroki hums, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ve got that solid a case. Plus, haven’t you deleted virtually all the evidence?”

Bakugou grips the neck of his beer bottle harder. “I fucking hate everything.”

bartender asshole <image attached>

Bakugou what the fuck

Bakugou why are you sending me cat pics?

Bakugou also that cat is stupidly cute

bartender asshole I know right?????

bartender asshole her name is ruby

bartender asshole and id die for her

bartender asshole i just figured ud be a cat person

Bakugou ………….

Bakugou I hate u

bartender asshole :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou Bakugou Katsuki

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

bartender asshole HI BAKUGOU SO NICE TO KNOW UR NAME

Bakugou I hate everything

bartender asshole except ruby. Its not allowed

Bakugou …………………………………

Bakugou except ruby

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

Kirishima, it turns out, is a ray of fucking sunshine. Bakugou has a distinct feeling that looking at him directly would be a blinding experience.

Not that he knows who to look for though; he has no idea what this guy looks like. He guesses that he’s buff, with all the times he tells Bakugou about the gym showers running out of hot water and beating his best weights doing bench presses, but he knows nothing else.

He does know that he’s sweet as fuck, making it impossible for Bakugou to stay mad at him. He doesn’t blink at Bakugou’s cussing, and he sends him cute pictures of Ruby.

There is a part of him, small but steadily growing, that wants to meet this stupidly nice bartender.

Bakugou hates everything.

dumbass bartender so what do you do???

Bakugou front-end development and web design

dumbass bartender oh damn!!!

dumbass bartender so youre like smart smart

Bakugou obviously

dumbass bartender have I seen your work anywhere??

Bakugou I recently redid the website of that protein powder company you don’t shut up about

dumbass bartender ????????????????????

dumbass bartender that’s amazing!!!!!!!!!

dumbass bartender I just revisited the website, it looks so cool

Bakugou duh

Bakugou im the best

dumbass bartender I don’t doubt that!!! :D :D

Bakugou don’t you have work?

dumbass bartender aww bakubro are you looking out for me <3 <3

Bakugou call me that again and I will fucking end you

dumbass bartender before the free drinks??? That you are yet to redeem? ?? at my wonderful establishment?????????? :D :D :D

Bakugou I hate everything.

dumbass bartender D:

Bakugou except RUBY DAMMIT

dumbass bartender :D

“Just to recap,” Kaminari says with an incredulous look in his eyes, “this guy cusses like a sailor, is constantly insulting you, never initiates conversation, and you still like him?”

Kirishima’s answering grin is bashful. “I mean, when you put it like that it sounds not so great, but he’s really not that bad! He’s super funny and confident, and he LOVES Ruby. Plus, I don’t like him like that, I just think he’s cool.” Kirishima picks up another glass from the washer and starts carefully drying it with his dishcloth before saying, “And, you know, I did put him through a lot by giving out his number. His behaviour is kinda warranted if you ask me.”

“I mean, in the beginning maybe, but haven’t you guys been texting for over a week now?”

“Denki, are you forgetting that giving out another number was your idea?” Kirishima mutters, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

Kaminari suddenly seems to find the glass in his hand a lot more interesting. Kirishima’s laugh echoes around the empty bar.

‘What’s so funny?” Ashido muses, bringing a crate of bottled beer behind the counter.

“Kirishima is going gaga over angry dick pic man.”

“I’m not going gaga, what the heck-“

“I think it’s cute,” Ashido says with a big smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually be interested in somebody; it’s really cute!”

“I don’t like him like that,” Kirishima stresses, though his cheeks are a little warm. He can blame that on the lack of air conditioning, he thinks.

“We talking about angry dick pic man?” Sero asks with a shit-eating grin. “10 bucks say he’s actually a middle-aged guy with a cheese fetish.”

“That’s so random-“

“You’re on!” Ashido yells, slapping her hand into Sero’s. “I think he’ll be a hottie.”

“He hasn’t even said he’ll come,” Kirishima says, eyes downcast.

“He’ll come,” the three chorus, going about doing their tasks. Kirishima shakes his head fondly and finishes up with the glasses. Just as he’s put all the shot glasses away, he feels his phone vibrate.

Bakubro just finished a massive project

Bakubro could use a drink this weekend

Bakubro know any good spots?

Kirishima’s face breaks into the biggest smile as he rushes to answer.

Kirishima I know a bar that serves free drinks with your name on it!!!!

Kirishima amazing food, dope music, the bestest drinks

Kirishima ive heard the bartender is a great guy too

Bakubro way to toot your own fucking horn damn

Kirishima :DDDDD

Kirishima bt seriously

Kirishima please? ???? ??

Kirishima PLEASEEEEEEEEE??????????????????

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro fine.

Bakubro Friday night at 8

Kirishima looks up from the screen and calls out, “Denki!”

“Yeah?”

“Switch shifts with me, I’ll do Friday.”

“Um, ok, why though?”

Kirishima doesn’t respond, just goes back to texting, his heart thudding in his ribcage.

Kirishima YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Kirishima cant wait :D

Bakubro I’m bringing my stupid friends btw

Kirishima wait

Kirishima you have friends???????

Bakubro I am going to end you

Bakubro you know what? Fuck you im not coming

Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

Kirishima IM SORRY OFC U HAVE FRNDS

Kirishima please come

Kirishima how big a table should I reserve????

Bakubro don’t bother

Kirishima IM SORRRYYYYYYYYYY

Kirishima <image attached> <image attached> <image attached>

Bakubro bastard

Bakubro you playing dirty by sending me pics of Ruby

Kirishima need to weaken your guard somehow

Kirishima pls tell me it worked

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro ill be there

Bakubro reserve a table for 4

Bakubro your stupid bar better be worth it

Kirishima I promise it will be!!!!

Kirishima whoops in joy, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looks up to see three sets of eyes looking at him with varying degrees of amusement.

“You get a really mushy look on your face when you’re texting him, it’s almost gross,” Sero points out with a laugh.

“Hush you,” Ashido admonishes, whipping her dishcloth at him. She walks over to Kirishima and gives him a big hug. “I think it’s very, very precious.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s coming this Friday!” Kirishima beams, holding Ashido closer against his side.

The three giggle.

“10 bucks say Kirishima messes up the drinks at least once.”

“HEY!”

Ashido squeezes around his middle. “Hon, I love you, but I’m not dumb enough to go against that.”

“HEY!”

They end up laughing and fibbing at each other for the rest of the prep time, and Kirishima feels his heart absolutely soar.

Friday brings with it crunch time, running lines and lines of code, having a mini-breakdown because the stupid text block keeps floating around on the webpage like it’s in outer fucking space, being forced into one of Camie’s ridiculous vlogs and having an existential crisis about what to wear on a non-date get-together with the guy that ruined Bakugou’s life for close to three months.

Camie spends most of the day laughing at him. Bakugou throws more condiments at her.

“Fucking help me at least, you useless wench,” Bakugou growls, shifting to clothes as he throws a pair of jeans at her. Camie dances out of the way and doubles over, laughing till she tears up from the force of it all.

“I can’t, I just can’t,” she wheezes. “Did you just say wench? What era are you from babe?”

“FUCK OFF,” he roars, leaping towards her. Camie shrieks and ducks away, making a beeline towards his closet.

“Ok, ok, let’s get you dressed! What kinda look are you trying for?”

“Fuck if I know,” he grouses, feeling oddly out of his depth. He wants to look good, but he has no idea for what.

That’s a lie, he knows why. He just won’t admit it.

“Well, why don’t we pick something simple but flattering? Plus, if it's in your style, you’re bound to be more comfy.” Camie pulls out a pair of black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a black fitted round-neck tee shirt, and some black boots. While he’s changing, Camie pulls out a silver chain, some bands for his wrists and a collection of rings.

“Do you want me to do your eyes?” she offers, holding up some mascara and an eye pencil. Bakugou shrugs and sits on the edge of his bed. Camie’s smile is soft as she stands between his thighs, gently but efficiently applying his make-up. When she’s done, he walks over to the mirror to look at himself, and he has to admit- he looks good. Always one to take care of his body and his figure, Bakugou is lean muscle packed into a 5’10” body. His blonde hair is as messy as ever, but the combination of his make-up, the accessories and his clothes give him an edgy look like no other. Camie throws a dark fitted jacket at him before sauntering over to her own room.

He continues to reply to some work emails when his phone buzzes.

dumbass cant wait to see you!!!

dumbass just ask for me at the bar

dumbass or I might be the one to greet you!! :D :D

Bakugou I know dumbass

Bakugou what, are you nervous or some shit?

dumbass I mean, kinda????

dumbass it’s our first time meeting afterall

dumbass I don’t even know wat you look like!!!!

Bakugou blonde wearing all black

dumbass redhead wearing a shirt with the riot logo!

Bakugou whatever

Bakugou ill be there at 8

Dumbass cant wait <33333

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou scoffs, his own nerves calming at the thought that he’s not the only one that’s a bit out of sorts. It’s nice to know that sunshine Kirishima is jittery about all this.

Also, interesting to know that he’s a redhead. Bakugou can’t quite imagine it, but in a few minutes, he won't need to.

His stomach roils with anticipation, and Bakugou hates every single thing.

Camie pops out of her room at half-past 7 in a maroon romper that cuts above her mid-thigh, hair done in a loose bun, makeup absolutely perfect. Her heels put her at a height taller than Bakugou, but he’s gotten used to being the shortest in their stupid posse. Doesn’t piss him off any less though.

She gets a phone call just as she pushes a tube of lip gloss into her purse.

“We are downstairs!” Inasa’s voice rings through her speaker, stupidly loud.

“Can it, baldy,” Bakugou grunts with a roll of his eyes, “we’ll be there in a sec.”

“See ya!”

Before Bakugou can usher Camie out the door, she pushes her clutch into his hands and walks over to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“Wha-“

“Liquid courage, my dude,” she says, pouring two generous shots and pushing one at Bakugou. She picks her own glass up and gives him a devilish smirk, “Bottoms up bitch!”

Bakugou picks the glass up with a resigned sigh but smirks back equally devilish. They cheers, smack the glasses against the counter and drain them smoothly. Camie puts the glasses in the sink, places a smacking kiss on Bakugou’s cheek and laughs brightly as she dances out of the way of his rage.

They finally load up in Inasa’s range rover, Todoroki plays classical Japanese music over the speakers and Bakugou regrets everything.

Riot is apparently something of a beloved establishment in its neighbourhood, and Bakugou growls when he sees how long the line leading to the bar is.

“Holy moly, that’s a lot of people!” Camie points out helpfully as she disembarks from the car.

Todoroki straightens his two-tone denim jacket and runs a hand through his hair as he says, “We have a reservation, so I think it’ll be fine?”

“Yes, I agree with you Todoroki,” Inasa beams, locking the car behind him as they walk towards the building. The outside is made of exposed brick and neon lights, and the RIOT sign is a deep red colour, eye-catching and beautiful.

They bypass the people in the line and walk up to the bouncer, who eyes them warily. He’s built like an absolute tank, broad and block-like, and his silver hair shines in the artificial light.

“Can I help you?”

“Bakugou, table for 4,” Camie says cheerily. The bouncer looks immediately enamoured with her before his eyes go wide.

“Wait, Eijirou’s Bakugou?”

Bakugou’s ears burn at that.

“I’m not fucking anybody’s!” he snaps. The bouncer immediately looks at him, and his face breaks into an even wider grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Can I see some ID real quick?”

Bakugou cusses colourfully under his breath but pulls out his license, and after a quick check, the bouncer, whose name is Tetsutetsu, steps aside to let them in.

“Have a good time!” he says happily, almost too happily. Bakugou feels his hackles rise.

“What the fuck?”

“It appears that Kirishima talks about you at least as much as you talk about him,” Todoroki observes, walking next to Bakugou.

“I don’t talk about him, fuck you!”

Todoroki’s delicately raised brow makes him want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably both.

“Fuck you all,” he reiterates before stomping inside.

Now, Bakugou is a relatively creative soul – his job kinda demands it – so it’s not his fault that he’s actually quite captivated by the interiors of this stupidly popular bar co-owned by a stupidly nice person.

The inside has exposed brick as well, and most of the furniture seems to be retro. There are large pipes and barrels behind the bar, made of what seems to be pure copper. Black marble covers the bar tops, and the lights are a mix of neon and muted whites, bright enough to see but still bathing the room in an alluring aura. There’s music thumping through the speakers, loud enough to dispel any silence but still at a bearable volume.

“Swanky,” Camie whistles, taking it all in.

Bakugou nods begrudgingly before setting his eyes on the bar.

“I’ll go get us a fucking table,” he mutters before walking over, hands digging deep into his pant pockets. He sees a lanky black-haired guy and a girl with tan skin and pink hair behind the bar, talking animatedly with the patrons as they serve them drinks at a dizzying pace.

When he finally gets a spot at the counter, the pink-haired girl finishes up with a customer and bounds over to him.

“Hi,” she greets, smile wide and happy, “haven’t seen you around before! What can I get you?”

“Kirishima,” Bakugou says because apparently, his brain to mouth filter has decided to abandon him in his time of need. The girl tilts her head in confusion and Bakugou feels the life drain out of him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m fuckin here because of dumbass Kirishima,” Bakugou barely grits out, fingers digging into his palms painfully. “The name is Bakugou, table for 4?”

He sees it all in slow-mo- the way her mouth goes slack, the way her eyes light up like firecrackers on New Year’s, and then the way her smile becomes positively blinding. He hates her already.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, “of course! So glad you’re here! Oye, Sero?”

“What?” the black-haired guy says without looking, topping up a perfectly poured glass of beer.

“You owe me 10 bucks.”

This gets his attention- he hands the drink off and looks at her, “Why would I-“

The girl just gestures at Bakugou and winks, “It’s him.”

Sero – or plain face, Bakugou’s brain helpfully supplies – immediately looks at him, his eyes widening. “Shit, seriously? Aw, man.” His smile becomes mischievous. “I’ll get Kirishima.” He opens the door behind the bar and disappears.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou snaps, beyond irritated to be so out of the loop.

“Nothing, nothing,” Pinky sings, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Kirishima will show your party to your table. Do you want anything in the meantime?”

“… a beer,” Bakugou concedes because he’s not dumb enough to not get a drink before he sees Kirishima if he can help it.

“Coming right up!”

He waits at the bar, watching as his group of dumbasses ooh and ahh at the place, looking delighted. A bottle of cold beer hits the counter with a satisfying thunk, bringing his attention back to the bartop.

“Enjoy!” Pinky still has a stupid smile on her face but before Bakugou can say anything, the door behind her is thrown open and plain face steps out.

“The restocking can wait, literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the last 3 days is finally happening.”

The guy following him is all tanned skin and thick muscles under a fitted deep red tee shirt. His hair is a bright unnatural red, pulled into a high pony with a few strands still framing his face. His eyes are a softer red than Bakugou’s own, his cheeks sharp and high, and when his eyes meet Bakugou’s, a zip of electricity races down his spine and along his limbs till he can feel it in his toes.

When the man makes his way over, Bakugou also notes how damn tall he is- easily around 6’4”. His smile is shy, and he smells like sandalwood.

“Bakugou, hi,” he breathes, hesitantly holding his hand out. Bakugou takes it in a daze, still amazed by just how stupidly beautiful this stupidly kind bar owner is.

“Heyyo, you disappeared fam, how’s it going?”

Bakugou hates everything.

He reluctantly slips his hand out of Kirishima’s warm, firm grip and turns to Camie with venomous eyes. “I literally just met him Cam, shut the fuck up.” He turns back to Kirishima, “Can you show us to our table?”

Kirishima shakes his head once before his smile turns blinding, and Bakugou finds himself fighting the urge to shield his eyes. “Of course,” he says in a voice that’s deep and warm and honey-like, “right this way!”

Bakugou snags his beer off the counter and takes a quick swig before Camie steals it and takes a few sips of her own. He growls at her but otherwise behaves, watching Kirishima’s back as he leads them through throngs of people engaged in cheerful conversation.

“Ok, well, he’s hot,” Cam says around the lip of the bottle. “Total beefcake. Whaddya think, boo?”

“I think you should fuck off,” Bakugou hisses, his face burning.

“If you wanted to go on a date, you probably shouldn’t have invited us,” Todoroki says, taking the offered bottle from Camie.

Before Bakugou can explode in their faces, Kirishima stops and turns around. “Here ya go!” He gestures to a table behind him, tucked into a more private corner of the bar. It’s large and cushy, and when Bakugou gets in after Camie, he’s surprised at how soft the material is.

“So?” Kirishima says, eyes trained on Bakugou.

“Fuckin what?” Bakugou snaps, voice lacking any heat.

Kirishima laughs, head thrown back to reveal a long, thick neck and Bakugou is so damn weak.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Bakugou clicks his tongue before gesturing at each of them, “Camie, marketing expert by day, YouTube beauty vlogger by night, pain in my ass always. Todoroki, environmental lawyer and a soba obsessed weirdo. Inasa, physiotherapist and resident dumbass.”

Kirishima gives them all a wave before saying, “Kirishima, co-owner of Riot and the reason why Bakugou saw more unwarranted penises than strictly necessary in a lifetime.”

“Asshole,” Bakugou grumbles, earning him another laugh and a bashful hand ruffling the back of Kirishima’s head.

“Still so sorry about that man,” Kirishima offers, “everything’s definitely on the house for you all! Speaking of ordering-“ Kirishima moves on to explain their ordering system-

“You can scan the code with your camera app,” the redhead says, pointing at the barcode on the centrepiece of their table, “and it pulls up our bar and food menu. Just enter your order and your table number,” he points at the large digits on the side that glows a bright 15 back at them.

Inasa pulls his phone out to order. Before he leaves, Kirishima says, “Can I get your drink order before I go?”

Camie asks for a LIIT, Inasa gets a Soju bomb and Todoroki starts off with his usual- a cosmo.

“You good on that beer?” Kirishima asks Bakugou warmly, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, sliding lower into his seat. “Maybe get me another, your choice?”

“Coming right up,” Kirishima beams before stepping away, and Bakugou’s heart splutters around his chest at the sight of sharp white teeth and cheek-aching grins.

“He’s so cute!” Camie squeals, stealing the last of his beer. “And he’s totes into you too.”

“I have to agree, he’s very attractive,” Todoroki says impassively.

“Certified hottie,” Inasa rounds up, flashing his own biceps for some reason.

Bakugou is so done, and they’ve been here all 5 minutes.

“Kirishim- Kirishima, the beer is overflowing,” Ashido says, pushing him away and taking over. “God, you’re so gone for him, it’s almost embarrassing.”

Kirishima snaps out of his stupor and moves to take the glass back. Ashido hip checks him away.

“You’re being a little stupid, go help Satou with plating and take the food to lover boy’s table.”

“He has a name, you know,” Kirishima mumbles, but Ashido simply laughs, and Kirishima feels his neck and ears go warm.

Because who let Bakugou walk into his bar looking like that? Looking so damn gorgeous in his all-black get up and his perfect eye make-up and that fierce scowl?

Kirishima’s heart had pretty much stopped at the sight of him, and it was yet to regain its usual rhythm.

The redhead rests his forehead against the wall and mumbles, “I’m so screwed.”

“We know buddy,” Sero says, patting his back sympathetically, “we know.”

For all that Bakugou hates outings and people and outings in places filled with people, he finds himself having a moderately good time.

Because the food is delicious if lacking a little heat, the alcohol is mixed perfectly and the music is fantastic, filtering through old rock classics with some alt stuff mixed in.

And then there’s Kirishima- tending the bar with ease, laughing along with his co-workers, and sending Bakugou wide, happy smiles that sets his entire face on fire.

“This place is awesome,” Camie whoops, banging another shot glass on the table before knocking it back with ease. Todoroki joins her, his impassive face not so much as twitching at the taste of strong tequila before he bites into a lime. Inasa is already beer drunk, cheeks dusky as he hums along to the music.

“Insufferable,” Bakugou mumbles around his 4th-ish beer. He likes to keep up his grumpy act till his last shred of dignity melts away cause of the alcohol, and he’s probably pretty hit already because he lets Camie pull him into her side with her arm around his shoulder, his nose suddenly privy to the scent of her mellow perfume.

“I love you guys,” Camie beams, picking up her beer and waving it in front of her. Todoroki and Inasa clink their drinks against it, and Bakugou silently waves his own bottle around before downing it.

“You guys good on- oh my god, are you Camie? THE Camie?”

It’s Pinky at their table and her eyes are so comically wide that Bakugou can’t help his snort of laughter. He feels Camie straighten up, but her arm around him stays, holding him close.

“Define THE Camie,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“The beauty blogger that I’ve only been following for the last 3 years, holy shit I love your videos.” And then suddenly, her eyes narrow on Bakugou before she snaps her fingers. “NO WONDER YOU LOOK FAMILIAR! You’re the angry blonde in all her videos!”

“Haan? You wanna go pinky?” Bakugou growls, moving to stand up. Camie keeps him firmly by her side, her laughter shaking them both.

“That’s us!” Camie says. Bakugou finally fights his way out of her grip and throws her a withering look, or his drunken attempt at one anyway. She winks, and he fake gags. “I don’t get recognized in public all that often LOL, this is fun.”

“Did you just say LOL in a verbal fucking conversation?”

“What do you mean you don’t get recognized; you literally have like 3.2million subscribers.”

Camie ignores Bakugou and shrugs at Pinky. “I guess my primary demographic aint here fam. Speaking of which,” she thrusts her hand out, “what’s your name?”

“Ashido Mina,” she says, taking her hand firmly. Camie introduces her to the others, and Bakugou looks back at the bar, disappointed to see that he can’t find Kirishima.

“Can I top you guys off?” Kirishima says, suddenly right next to their table, effectively startling the shit outta Bakugou.

Camie chirps an affirmative, Todoroki asks for a water and checks to see if Inasa’s breathing as the big olf continues to sleep, curled up in the corner of the booth.

“And you Bakubro?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bakugou frowns before adding, “I should probably stop, I’m already kinda tipsy.”

“Lightweight,” Camie teases.

Bakugou gives her the stink eye. “Woman, the one time I tried keeping up with you, I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and you didn’t have so much as a hangover, so fuck off.”

“Seriously?” Kirishima says, eyes wide.

“That’s amazing,” Ashido murmurs, her smile crooked and dangerous.

Bakugou. Hates. Everything.

“He had no lasting liver damage, we’re all fine,” Camie reassures before diving into a conversation with Mina about beauty hacks and good mascara brands and global warming.

Kirishima leans close to Bakugou, bathing him in that warm sandalwood scent. “How about I get you some water and one last beer? A Hefeweizen?”

Bakugou turns to look at him, and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how close they are, when he sees just how red Kirishima’s eyes are, how the heat seems to radiate off his skin. He exhales in a rush and looks away, answering with a jerky nod.

Kirishima gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze – he’s so warm, his hand is fucking huge – before walking to the bar and picking their stuff up.

When pinky finally meanders away from their table to serve other customers, Camie leans her head on Bakugou’s shoulder and says, “We’ll leave soon, ok?”

Bakugou nods again, leaning some of his weight back into her. Todoroki catches his eye and flashes him a warm, tipsy smile, and if he returns it with one of his own, well, he’s drunk out of his skull and has approximately no fucks to give.

Long after putting Bakugou and his posse in a cab, before which they insisted on paying pretty much the entire tab since they ate and drank a LOT, Kirishima and the rest are cleaning up when Ashido whips him with her cleaning rag.

Kirishima looks at her with betrayed eyes, “Wha-“

“Ei, you better text him again.”

“About what?” Kirishima says glumly. “I did what I said I would do, and I promised to leave him alone after that.”

“Boy please,” Ashido scoffs, roughly wiping down one of the tables, “ya’ll made such gooey eyes at each other all night, plus I’m pretty sure he paid the entire tab just so you could keep up whatever façade you guys have going on to cover up the fact that you have INSANE chemistry with one another.”

“Yeah, the tension was palpable bro,” Sero chimes in, throwing an arm around his waist. “I think you should text him too. He seemed really amusing, and his whole group was a riot.”

Kirishima rolls his eyes at the pun but smiles at them, feeling a new burst of energy in his limbs.

“You guys are absolutely right! Worst case, he blocks me. At least I won’t have any regrets.”

“Yeah boy, get it with that optimism.”

Bakugou wakes up to a slight headache, a mouth that tastes like ash, and a profound sadness that settles atop his sternum, weighing him down and pressing him into his mattress.

He sees the glass of water on his bedside table with ibuprofen placed neatly next to it and downs them both without so much as a second thought. As his brain slowly comes back online, he takes a moment to finally navigate his messy feelings and comes to a crushing realization-

Kirishima doesn’t have to text him anymore.

The redhead had said that he’d leave him alone after making it up to him, and yes, it was Bakugou’s standoffish nature that got them into that situation in the first place. And yes, Bakugou had paid the tab mostly because it was too high a bill to be footed by the bar and Bakugou made bank, but also because a small, minuscule part of him hoped that the gesture would make Kirishima insist on another outing or something to ‘make it up to him'.

The blonde doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the fact that he forgave Kirishima almost two days into texting him.

He almost avoids his phone out of fear alone and makes it through a whole cup of coffee and 3 chapters into a novel recommended by Deku before finally picking up his phone to check for emails and notifications.

He expects none from Kirishima.

So, of course, there are 3 from the redhead.

Bakugou’s heart leaps to his throat and he can’t seem to unlock his phone quite fast enough.

fuck he’s cute hi Bakugou, thank you for coming last night!!!

fuck he’s cute it was actually really cool 2 finally meet you. U didn’t have to pay the tab tho :’D

fuck he’s cute bt since u did, I still owe u. can we figure it out later??? Also, what did you think of the place???

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou you’ve got a swanky place, I’ll give you that. Food was fucking good too. could be spicier.

Bakugou you got cam completely hooked

Bakugou and yeah, you better make it up to me later. Asshole.

Kirishima replies a few hours later, just as Bakugou finishes up a yoga routine that stretches out his back in the best way possible.

fuck he’s cute :D :D :D :D :D

fuck he’s cute can’t wait

fuck he’s cute <image attached>

fuck he’s cute ruby says hi

It’s a selfie this time, not a picture of just the kitty. Bakugou can appreciate how cute the mutt is, but for once, he has no attention to spare her. Not when Kirishima’s eyes are crinkling around the edges from how hard he smiles up at the camera, not when he’s wearing a tank top with relaxed arm holes, showing off bulging muscles and hints of ink, and not when just the mere thought of him makes Bakugou’s stomach flop around uncontrollably.

He barely manages to reply coherently.

Bakugou the only bright spot in this shitty world

He presses his phone to his forehead and quietly contemplates just how gay he is. Camie pets his head on the way to the kitchen.

It takes Bakugou some time to get used to waking up to Good Morning texts and a stream of random thoughts from Kirishima all day. The flutter in his stomach disappears a few weeks into talking to the redhead, instead replaced by a bone-deep warmth that always manages to make him feel a little better.

dumbass kirishima GOOOOOOOD MORNING :D

dumbass Kirishima someone threw up on my fave shoes last night

Bakugou HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Bakugou suffer

dumbass Kirishima y u so mean to me ☹ ☹

Bakugou cause its fuckin hilarious

dumbass Kirishima ☹

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou <image attached> [it’s a picture of Bakugou’s balcony, and all his plants look vibrant green as the sun hits them just right]

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima legit felt my serotonin just spike

dumbass Kirishima thxxxxxx

Bakugou whatever

Bakuguo dumbass

---

Bakugou if I plan a murder can I count on your stupid muscles to help me move the body

dumbass Kirishima D:

dumbass Kirishima at least take me out to dinner b4 involving me in your crimes

dumbass Kirishima what a lack of manners

Bakugou stfu

dumbass Kirishima :”D :”D

dumbass Kirishima youre joking right?

dumbass Kirishima right??

dumbass Kirishima RIGHT?????

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU THIS IS A BAD TIME TO LEAVE ME HANGING BRO DO NOT DO THIS

Bakugou don’t call me bro

dumbass Kirishima THAT IS NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW

Bakugou lol I didn’t do shit dumbass don’t worry

Bakugou or did I?

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

---

dumbass Kirishima <image attached> [it’s a gym selfie; Kirishima is crouching in front of the mirror shirtless, hair pulled into a bun atop his head. He’s glistening with sweat, and he’s got a more serious look on his face. He’s not actively flexing any muscle, but the pose makes his thighs, calves and biceps bulge. One hand holds the phone, the other is resting on his bent knee]

dumbass Kirishima working on deez gainz

Bakugou what time do you usually workout

dumbass Kirishima depends on my schedule actually

dumbass Kirishima I prefer the morning, but when I take the late night shift I usually go be4 work the next day

Bakugou hmmm

Bakugou let me know

Bakugou maybe we can go together

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh I changed my mind

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima no takebacksies

Bakugou fucking fantastic

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

---

“So, let me get this straight- you guys gym together at least once a week, you talk every day, your stomach flutters at the mere thought of him and Cam swears he’s making googly eyes at you all the time, and you still haven’t asked each other out yet?”

Bakugou flips his phone off, “Fuck off Deku, don’t be a little shit.”

Midoriya’s face morphs into an amused smile on the other end of their facetime call, “Are you being bashful Kacchan? That’s adorable.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“NOOOOO,” Midoriya bemoans dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m missing all this.”

“Yeah, well, who the fuck told you to teach kids English halfway across the world dumbass?”

“I miss you too Kacchan,” Midoriya beams, making a heart with his hands.

“I truly loathe you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Midoriya puts a few papers away before sighing. “So?”

“So what?”

“So, are you going to make a move? How do you plan on doing it?”

“I don’t,” Bakugou ruffles his hair and ducks his head to hide his rapidly warming cheeks, “I’m not asking him out Deku, fuck that.”

“Why not?” the asshole whines, eyes wide and innocent. “You deserve happiness Kacchan. Plus, he seems like a really nice guy.” Midoriya leans forward and adds in a whisper, “I’ve heard he has a fantastic butt.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes and flips him off again, “Fuck off, you can’t say that without actually meeting him.”

“I’ll be back before then. You guys better be dating already when I get there.”

“Stop telling me what to do, shitty Deku!”

“Never Kacchan, that’s what you do for the people you love.”

“Ugh, how are you so gross when you’re so far away, I hate you.”

Midoriya’s laugh sounds tinny over the phone speaker, lacking its usual body and warmth. Bakugou huffs again before picking his novel back up to read.

“Hi Zuku,” Camie calls out from over Bakugou’s shoulder. “You need to come back soon and help me with Kitkat, he refuses to make the first move!”

“Butt out of my fucking love life, you freaks!”

“Can’t butt out of something that doesn’t exist Kats,” Camie deadpans.

Bakugou feels extremely justified in flinging a stress ball right at her. The kitchen fills up with raucous laughter, from his phone and from the person standing in front of him, and Bakugou thinks that adding a deeper, warmer laugh to the mix, coming from a specific redhead might not be the worst thing in the world.

Kiri bakugouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Bakugou what?

Kiri just wanted to say hi <3

Bakugou wth

Kiri we still on fr the gym tomorrow?

Bakugou obviously you dumbass

Bakugou I need you to spot me

Bakugou im beating my personal best tomorrow or im going to die trying

Kiri so manly :O :O :O

Kiri I’ve got you bruh

Bakugou don’t call me that

Bakugou and I know you do

Kiri <3 <3

---

Bakugou <link>

Bakugou that playlist you were asking about

Kiri u da bomb katsuki

Bakugou katsuki huh?

Bakugou getting cocky I see

Kiri I mean, weve known each other for like 4 months now???

Kiri ur one of my closest pals

Kiri I don’t have to, I just thought ud like it more than bro

Bakugou I do like it more than bro

Bakugou eijirou

Bakugou I guess ur not terrible

Eijirou ????

Eijirou did you just?? pay me????? A compliment??

Eijirou who r u and wat have you done to katsuki?

Bakugou fuck you

Bakugou just fuck you

Eijirou <3 <3 <3

Bakugou wakes up one morning, approximately 5 months after meeting Kirishima for the first time, with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His work goes smoothly. The coffee tastes potent and fresh, his body feels fine, his plants are thriving, Camie is busy with her own deadlines and therefore not bugging him, even the sun is mellow and warm; the perfect weather.

The pit in his stomach worsens with every hour.

It doesn’t help that all of his messages to Kirishima have gone unanswered; he hasn’t even been online all day. In the months that they’ve communicated, he’s never gone a day without texting the man, and now it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth.

When it gets closer to 6 in the evening, Bakugou decides to call if Kirishima doesn’t get in touch himself. Because the pit in his stomach is making him nauseous, and he needs to know if the redhead is ok if only for the sake of his own damn health.

He gets a call from an unknown number at 5:20 in the evening. The pit in his stomach becomes a yawning chasm as he picks up the call.

“Hello?”

“Bakugou, it’s Ashido, from the bar.”

Bakugou pulls in a deep breath. “Where is Kirishima?”

“Um, there was an incident last night, at Riot.” She sighs deeply before continuing, “Kiri got jumped in the alley outside by a bunch of really drunk homophobic assholes that saw him turn down some guy’s number. He actually fought them off for the most part, but he’s sustained a broken nose and some fractured ribs. We’re at the hospital right now.”

Bakugou sinks to the ground, his stomach plummeting with him. “Are you fucking serious right now? Fuck-“

“I’ll text you the hospital details, ok? I’m sorry we didn’t call sooner, between talking to his moms and the hospital folks, it slipped my mind.”

“I’ll be there,” Bakugou says, standing up on shaky feet and stumbling back to his room. “Just don’t leave him alone.”

“Never in a million years.”

They hang up and Bakugou changes, hails a cab, and gets to the hospital in a complete daze.

His affection for the redhead, brimming and spilling from every crevice, makes itself evident when he lays eyes on him in the hospital bed and feels a surge of protectiveness. He wants to kill the people that did this, he wants to gather Kirishima in his arms and hold him tight, he wants to crawl into bed with him and talk about stupid shit and see him smile again.

“He’s pretty high on pain meds right now,” Ashido says from somewhere behind him, pointing to his IV lines, “so he’s been saying really funny stuff. The doctors did a full evaluation and said he should recover completely in 5ish weeks.”

Bakugou nods and swallows thickly. Ashido squeezes his arm before leaving the hospital room, shutting the door behind her softly.

Kirishima hasn’t seen him yet, so Bakugou approaches his bed carefully before placing a hand on the guardrail. The noise pulls Kirishima’s attention towards him, and Bakugou’s gut tightens when those large, warm eyes go completely soft at the sight of him.

“Kassaki~” Kirishima slurs, his smile large and dopey.

“You absolute dumbass,” Bakugou chokes out, his hand moving from the rail to grip Kirishima’s tightly. Kirishima’s fingers twine with his own with practised ease and his smile turns gooey.

“Hi Kats, you look beautiful today.”

Bakugou half-laughs, half-sobs and rubs his eyes fiercely. Kirishima’s face is a bit bruised, and there’s a huge bandage on his nose, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as Bakugou had first feared. The pit in his stomach finally calms, slowly loosening until he can breathe normally again.

“Shut up Eiji,” Bakugou grumbles, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. He leaves his hand in Kirishima’s.

“Ok,” Kirishima agrees easily. It takes 10 seconds for him to break the silence again.

“Hey Kats?”

“What?”

“Are we dating?”

Bakugou startles at that, eyes snapping over to Kirishima’s. He doesn’t look accusatory or hurt or weirded out or anything- merely curious.

“No, we’re not.”

“Oh.” Kirishima frowns, “Why not?”

Bakugou huffs out a small laugh, “Because we’re both idiots.”

“Oh,” the redhead says, then nods. “That kinda tracks.”

“HEY!”

Kirishima’s smile becomes dopey again, eyes crinkling in the most endearing way.

“I really like you Kats. You’re so smart and funny and you always smell like fabric softener, and you’re just like. Really pretty.”

Bakugou feels his face heat up completely, his grip on Kirishima’s hand tightening.

“Just rest, you dumbass,” Bakugou says weakly, his entire body too hot for comfort. He watches Kirishima’s smile become something warm and loving in a way that hits his heart, and he doesn’t let go of the redhead’s hand, right up until the end of visiting hours.

When he exits the hospital alongside Ashido, he feels the last of his energy drain.

“I cant believe we didn’t get to him sooner,” Ashido mumbles, rubbing at her eyes fiercely. “The bar was noisy, and he just wanted to dump out some trash. Hanta noticed he was gone a while before we went out back and found him punching the last dude.”

Bakugou purses his lips. Truth be told, he cant believe Kirishima had gotten so badly hurt so close to his own bar, and he’s pissed as fuck that the idiot brigade had even let it happen, but the sincerity in Ashido’s voice tugs at his chest painfully.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Bakugou laughs humorlessly. “He’ll probably say there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.”

Ashido’s laugh is hollow, “That’s our Eijirou.” She looks at Bakugou again. “You coming tomorrow?”

He flashes her his best sneer. “You best believe I’m going to come by every single fucking day till he’s discharged.”

Ashido’s smile becomes a little more genuine, a little more well-rounded.

“I’m really glad he has you.” Her voice goes all soft and gross as she continues, “You mean a LOT to him, in case you didn’t already know.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou mumbles, before waving her off and walking away.

Because he does know.

He also knows he’s falling madly in love with him, and that he’s completely and utterly screwed.

And he finds that he really doesn’t mind all that much. Some people, he rationalizes, are worth the horrible butterflies and the too hot too cold feelings down the back of his spine.

Some people, he realizes, are worth loving with everything you’ve got.

It takes Kirishima five weeks of house arrest to recover completely. Bakugou spends every weekday and a few of the weekends with him, staying over more often than not. He fusses over the redhead, forces him to take his medication on time, and cooks him everything under the sun.

“You’re spoiling me,” the redhead whines when Bakugou serves him what smells like the best mapo tofu he’s ever going to have.

The blonde grins triumphantly, “You’re damn right I am.”

They bicker and banter constantly, but they also curl up and marathon old bond movies at night. Kirishima goes over the bar’s paperwork while Bakugou works off his couch, and they take turns making the coffee. Ruby falls in love with Bakugou and curls up on his chest every chance she gets, and Bakugou laughs at Kirishima’s look of betrayal. The redhead’s couch is ridiculously comfortable, and he leaves his memory foam pillow with the blonde.

“You refuse to take my bed,” he grumbles, “so you damn well better accept my stupid pillow.”

Bakugou’s neck thanks the redhead profusely.

It’s new and weird, living with someone for the first time. Kirishima’s posse are in and out through the day, and Camie comes by just as often, bringing a change of clothes and gossip with her. Todoroki drops in with some high-quality tequila sometimes and Inasa brings his infectious energy, and through all of this, Kirishima remains in high spirits, even if he goes a little stir crazy sometimes.

It’s new and it’s weird, going from casual touches to more loving ones, more comforting ones. It becomes commonplace for Bakugou to rest his head between Kirishima’s shoulder blades on the days that he has a bad time at work. It’s normal for Kirishima to place his head on Bakugou’s lap while they watch shark documentaries. It’s easy for them to bump knees and press their calves together while enjoying their morning coffee.

It’s new and it’s weird and it’s amazing.

Because Bakugou finds himself falling in love with the little things. The way Kirishima sticks his tongue out when he’s smashing the PS5 controller during an especially intense game of Mario party, the way he makes the coffee with a sleepy smile on his face, the way he hums off-key to a song that’s stuck in his head, the way he can understand Bakugou- can differentiate between his frustrated fuck, his bashful fuck, his angry fuck, his sleepy fuck.

And how he accepts it all without so much as a hitch in his step.

Bakugou watches himself fall in love, slowly, and then all at once.

“How is it that he lived with you for almost 5 weeks and you STILL didn’t ask him out? Or kiss him stupid? Or something?”

Sero has a finger pinching the bridge of his nose, the other flexing loosely in front of his chest as he tries to fathom the stupidity of two people that could not be more into each other if they tried.

“I, I uh-“ Kirishima hangs his head, “I have no excuse.” He sighs deeply. “I was scared he’d give me a pity answer cause I was injured and everything.”

Ashido looks over her shoulder with incredulous eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Eiji, I know you love us so like, if any of us were hurt like this you’d take care of us till we were better too. But do you think someone like BAKUGOU would practically move into someone’s house to make sure they were ok if he wasn’t nuts about them? Really?”

Kirishima’s face flushes, and he waves her away. “I don’t want to read into it. He’s just a really, really, really good guy. And what we have is good, it’s great! We’re bros. Pals. Friends. It’s all good.”

Ashido continues to stare at him for another moment before throwing her hands up and yelling, “BOYS!” She stomps into the kitchen to help Satou with prep for the day.

They continue to stock up the bar, Kirishima assigned to prepping limes and the ice machine, when the door opens and someone steps in.

“Sorry, we’re not op- Bakugou?”

And there stands the blonde with the biggest bouquet of flowers – chrysanthemums and sunflowers – that Kirishima has ever seen. The redhead distantly hears the sound of a door close behind him, and suddenly they’re alone, the tension positively stifling.

“Bakugo-“

“Go on a date with me.”

Kirishima sucks in a startled breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Go on a date. With me,” Bakugou repeats, his neck and ears tinging the loveliest shade of red. “The romantic kind. Where we dress up and get food and drinks and fight over the bill and walk each other to the door and get super awkward before we kiss. All that shit.”

Kirishima isn’t sure how it happens- one moment he’s on this side of the bar, the next, he’s jumping across and gathering Bakugou into a tight embrace, mindful of his newly healed ribs but still unwilling to release the blonde until Bakugou returns his hug, burying his face into Kirishima’s chest.

“Is that a yes?” Bakugou mumbles when they finally pull away, his hands fisted in Kirishima’s shirt.

“In every possible language out there,” Kirishima answers, ducking down to softly kiss Bakugou on the cheek. He laughs as the blonde cusses and shoves him away and laughs even harder when Bakugou’s own smile covers his entire face, bright and open and oh so breathtaking.

That smile is Kirishima’s and Kirishima’s alone.

Eiji hiiiiiiiiiiii

Bakugou I swear to god Ei

Bakugou if you’re late for our first date I will find you

Eiji and give me a kiss? :*

Bakugou I don’t kiss people that don’t have good time management

Bakugou so fuck off

Eiji still so mean to me ☹

Eiji I want that kiss tho

Eiji so ill be ready

Eiji promise

Bakugou good

Eiji <3

Bakugou <3

Eiji :D :D :D :D :D :D

Eiji YOU LIKE ME ENOUGH TO SEND EMOJIS HU H <3333

Bakugou it will never happen again

Bakugou so fuck right off

Eiji :”D

Bakugou im outside

Eiji be right there

Eiji <3

#bnha #kiribaku #bakushima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #flustered #boku no hero #mha #they're idiots your honor #giving out the wrong number au???#if that's a thing??????#this one's a monster y'all

39 notes · View notes

azucanela · 4 years ago

Text

17. 2AM CALLS | TODOROKI SHOUTO

1K CELEBRATION MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: When Y/N can’t sleep, she decides, what better to do than call Shouto Todoroki himself. Of course, she didn’t actually expect him to pick up, seeing as it was 2AM. But when he does pick up, Y/N can’t help but feel comforted by his presence.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

WARNINGS: brief mentions of nightmares, brief mentions of endeavor[yes he has a warning],

A/N: as you can see im in the mood to write for bnha folks atm anyways its a lil short but like shouto os

If Shouto was honest, he hated structure. He hated the idea of a daily routine he had to follow, and it was probably because he’d been following a schedule since his childhood. He’d had the time he woke up, ate, trained, and slept all dictated for him, to ensure he was prepared for his future— more accurately the future his father wanted him to have.

Maybe that made him sound a little bit like an anarchist but Shouto didn’t particularly care. Now, that he was in the UA dorms, he’d never had so much freedom. He chose when he woke up, ate, went to bed, trained, everything was his choice.

And his choice was to stay awake until 2AM because it’s the weekend and he can do what he wants. Of course, Shouto was being mildly productive, doing his homework ahead of time for not just his sake but also Y/N’s, full well knowing that she hasn’t even started yet and he’s going to have to explain it to her.

He’s putting his things away when his phone begin to vibrate on the desk, causing his brows to furrow. Shouto was fairly sure that nobody he knew was awake at this time, so he couldn’t help but wonder who was calling him as his eyes fell on the profile picture that had filled his entire phone screen. He’d taken it while they were out at some coffee shop she liked, Y/N had been staring out the window while she talked about a book she’d recently read, coffee in hand. Shouto thought she looked nice and snapped a picture, not that Y/N noticed as she was too engrossed in her rant.

Why was Y/N awake right now?

He’d noticed her fatigue in class and asked if she’d been sleeping well. She’d answered yes, but that didn’t really soothe his worries, nor did this call. Shouto quickly realized that if he didn’t pick up soon she’d be forced to voicemail, and propped the phone up against the wall before hitting accept for the call. He couldn’t hear much except a small gasp, and her forehead was visible only for a moment before she directed her camera to aim towards the ceiling.

“Y/N?”

The face of the girl in question appeared the screen, albeit only the side of her face was visible due to the poor positioning of her phone. “Hi, Sho.” She mumbles, face buried into her pillow, turning so that only half of her face is pressed against the pillow as she continues, “why are you up?

She sounds tired, and looks tired— something Shouto had learned was not to be mentioned— which left Shouto wondering just why exactly she hadn’t gone to bed. “I was finishing up some schoolwork.” Comes his reply, “and you?”

A small smile comes onto Y/N’s face as she hums in reply, inhaling deeply, Shouto notices that she’s wearing a shirt he recognized as his own. He finds himself thankful that she’s struggling to stay awake, failing to notice that a blush had dusted his cheeks as she replies, “bad dream.”

His brows furrowed at these words, though they were vague, Shouto had a feeling it hadn’t been the first night Y/N had been plagued by ‘bad dreams’ and made a silent note to himself to ask about it in the morning as he asked, “and why did you call me?” His face remained rather apathetic but Y/N seemed to notice the worry in his tone.

“Just wanted to talk to you.” Y/N says, eyes finally flickering over to her phone screen, “you make me feel safe Sho.”

Shouto’s mouth gaped open slightly at her words, he found himself at a loss as he stared. Though the entire career path that he was pursuing involved making others safe, Shouto felt his chest tighten at the fact that she felt safe around him, and they weren’t even in the same room. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as he spoke, “I see.”

Y/N laughed at his choice words, pulling her blanket up over her chin as she mumbled, “could you just stay on call for me?” Y/N rolled over, arms stretching above her head before one of them comes to rest over her eyes, “you don’t have to talk or anything just— just stay on the phone for a little bit. Please?”

“Of course.” The words leave him almost instantly, and a small smile graces Y/N’s face as she shuts her eyes. “I will always keep you safe, Y/N. So, rest.” The girl’s eyes open, and for the first time since she’d called him, Y/N looks awake as she opens her mouth to reply, only for Shouto to continue, “besides. Your dorm isn’t too far from here, if you were attacked, surely I would know. Also, any villain foolish enough to attack a school of future Pro Heroes and actual Pro—”

A laugh escapes her once more as she rolls back over to her side, now facing the phone, “always so literal, Shouto.” Silence follows her words for only a moment, “but... thank you. Really.”

Shouto doesn’t know how to respond, so he simply offers her a small smile accompanied by a nod of reassurance—an awkward nod, but a nod nonetheless. But the silence that followed didn’t feel all the awkward, if Shouto was honest it was a rather comfortable one that came between them, the sound of Shouto typing away at his now open computer while Y/N laid on her bed. He doesn’t know exactly how long the call went on, but it wasn’t long til Shouto realized that her questionable late night ramblings had ceased, his eyes returning to his phone screen once more to see her asleep. Chest rising and falling slowly with each breath, Shouto couldn’t help but be captivated by the sight of her.

He murmurs her name quietly, a test to see if she’s awake, and Y/N stirs with a small hum in response. “You should go to bed, Y/N.”

“You should too.” She grumbles, eyes still shut as she presses her head into the pillow. “I’m not the only one who needs sleep.”

“Then we both go to sleep, alright?”

She nods slowly, shifting slightly in the bed as her eyes opened slightly. “Goodnight Shouto—” Y/N yawned, and Shouto could see her finger move towards the phone, “love you, bye.”

Maybe it meant nothing to her. Just another passing moment, something completely accidental caused by a mix of sleep deprivation and stress. But those words had meant everything to him. Leaving Shouto to sit in his room, shock flooding as he stares at his phone, the end call screen flashing on phone.

Shouto finds himself typing.

Shouto <3 Goodnight Y/N. I love you, too. [2:01AM]

TAGS[lmk if you wanna be added or removed via asks or replies]

@shawkneecaps

@shigarakis-fifth-hand

@beifongsss

#todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #shouto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x you #todoroki x you #shoto x you #shouto x you #shouto todoroki x you

441 notes · View notes

sadgirlmadgirlbadgirll · 2 years ago

Text

Genshin Character

Name: Zixin (meaning: new son)

Rarity: 5 stars

Vision: Dendro

Weapon: Catalyst

Meta role: DPS/ sub DPS

Substat: ER%

Nation: Liyue - was born in Qingce village but lives in the harbor now

Age: About 25

Pronouns: he/him

Hobbies: Checkers, puzzles, reading, gardening, taking the tea, walking around to clear his mind, feeding birds and fishes

Occupation: Scholar, employee of the ministry of civil affairs who works closely with the Feiyun Commerce Guild

Goal: Help the people of Liyue, make discoveries, travel to sumeru one day

Character traits: curious, outgoing, serious, rational, creative, smart, witty, grounded, composed, mature, extrovert, talkative

Childhood/ background: Grew up in Qingce village with his parents and older brother, but left to study medicine under Baizhu in the Harbor, and started working at the ministry of civil affairs for money. He is now in the higher ranks, and works closely with Xingqiu on a lot of matters. He often visits his parents in his town, and helps with chores in the garden and makes sure they have everything they need. He’s also well trusting by the higher ups of the Liyue Qixing, and by Yelan, and he never hesitated to help out for the greater good. Whenever legal trouble comes up, Yanfei runs to the rescue to make him understand the matter. Baizhu still teaches the young man, though he has grasped most of the concepts long ago now.

Fighting style: lots of hand and arm movements (flowy), makes vine like plants go out of his hands, adding the dendro effect to enemies

Skill: Favour of nature; renders enemies in a small radius immobile for 2s, and applies the dendro effect to them with a vine-like rope around them. Skill also reduces opponent’s RES to all dmg for 6s. CD: 7s

Ult: Downfall of the unworthy; targets the 3 strongest opponents (based on HP) on the field and gives them the mark of the unworthy. Those marked will have reduced RES to all dmg, and will take a CRIT hit when a dendro atk or skill hits them. Skill deals base dmg as well. EM is increased for all party members. Mark duration: 12s. CD: 15s

Additional talents: Favour of nature’s radius is expanded by 30% / For every elemental particles received, Zixin gains a 2% dendro dmg bonus. Max 10 stacks, each stack lasts 5s.

Passive: When picking up a plant when Zixin is in the party, there’s a 35% chance to obtain a second one (does not apply to the teapot flowers)

Signature Weapon: Grimoire of forbidden sunlight; CRIT DMG% - When the character has full elemental energy, they will gain a 30/45/60/75/100 EM bonus thats lasts 5s. This effect cannot stack.

Friends: Yanfei, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Baizhu, Yelan, knows Xiao but they aren’t close (acquaintance) , would be friends with Albedo if they ever met

Fav food: Mochi, Lotus Flower Crisp (specialty dish - when he cooks there’s a chance to obtain Evergreen Lotus Bloom)

Least fav food: Marshmallows - too soft, he likes crispy things

When it rains: Hmm this’ll be good for gardening/ I knew i should’ve brought an umbrella…

Thunderstorm: Yikes! We should get inside!

When it snows: I admire those who can tolerate the cold…

When it’s sunny: Ah, the perfect weather for growing flowers./ Sun’s out, let’s get on the move.

Good morning: Did you sleep well traveller? I made you some herbal tea with wild mint and glaze lilies fresh from my garden. Or if you’d rather eat i can make something?

Goodnight: The moon is out, that means we should rest. Sleep well, traveller. Tomorrow will be a good day.

Chatting: Have you ever heard of the Mare Jivari, traveller? they say that the wind never blows there… and that makes me wonder, what kind of life is there over there? Is there truly no vegetation? Can a even gods discover the secrets of this place?/ Qingce village used to be full of life and young people, but now only the older folks are left. Sometimes i feel bad for leaving, but i met you, so i don’t regret anything.

Levelling up: I can feel the power coursing through my veins… amazing! / This journey has taught me so much, thank you for allowing me to join on your adventures.

Low Hp: I can’t take much more/ I’m gonna need a lot of tea after this!

Hit: Hey!/ You better calm down!/ Enough!

Fallen: Take care of my plants…/ Please don’t forget about me…/ Carry on my research…

Opening a chest: ohh! what’s in there?/ Look at all of this… we got lucky!

Sprinting: Catch me if you can!/ Alright, let’s go! // when stopping: Ah, you’re fast!

Adding to party: Are we going foraging?/ Is my expertise required?

Idle animation: Adjusting glasses/ playing with dices or chest piece/ flipping through an old book/ making a little plant grow at his fingertips

Idle voice lines: Teyvat is beautiful, don’t you think?/ The soil here looks perfect for growing flowers/ I always appreciate a good scenery

#original character #character #oc #ocs #genshin #genshin impact #genshin oc

4 notes · View notes

strangeradventuresofp · 4 years ago

Text

second thoughts (legolas x reader)

The Fellowship of the Ring - Part 1

masterlist

warnings: none (i think)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

a/n : so after writing it for the first time, rewriting it and then rewriting it again lol the first chapter of my canon lotr fic is here. not much legolas x reader interaction in this one, more of just an introduction to the series and the readers relationships etc. i also quickly wanna thank @falcor-thee-luck-dragon for being super supportive of this ever since i even mentioned it as an idea ily! im super excited for it and i hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading i love you and i hope you have a wonderful day<3 (also i guess let me know if you want to be added to my taglist)

The journey to Rivendell was purely insufferable. Not only was it due to the time it took nor the saddle sore that you had endured, but to how the time had passed so quickly and yet so painfully slowly at the very same time. You had always loved to travel, but you did not seem to have any time at all to admire the vast amount of sights that appeared before you. In the blink of an eye they were gone, and the views became new for a brief second before they disappeared beyond what you could see. Your eyes were forced to stay focused on the road and the rider ahead of you so that the way would not be lost.

When you arrived at Rivendell, however, all of the annoyance that you had endured throughout the voyage seemed to simply melt away. There were no words for how you felt in that moment when you dropped from your horse, gaping at the infrastructure in complete awe. Always, you had associated elves with inexplicable beauty, but never would you have expected something as incredible as what lay before you. Quick to abandon your guide, you made sure to take your precious time when you strode through the decorative archways, following up the spiral staircase, marveling at everything your eyes could possibly muster.

It had hardly been long when your eyes travelled to seek out shards of a broken blade, sat on a bed of silk, a statue standing tall behind it. The concrete seemed to present it to all who passed. You dared not touch it, though a wave of tempt washed over your senses. The fragments made up Narsil, the blade of King Elendil, the one used by his son, Isildur, to cut the finger that held the One Ring of Sauron the Terrible during the War of the Last Alliance. The legend of the One Ring had faded into less than nothing over the years of its absence, but fear always struck you when you imagined the dreaded return of the Dark Lord. The longsword that lay in front of you belonged to the heir of Isildur, the King of Gondor, Aragorn Son of Arathorn. Your heart forever ached with hope that one day he would return to the White City and that the useless steward that held his place would once again be nothing more than just that.

You had scarcely noticed the figure sitting beside the balustrade until you had felt an uneasy turn in your stomach, signaling that someone was watching you. As you shifted your eyes over to the body in black, they fell upon a man with long, unkempt hair and a scruffy grown-out stubble that covered his face and neck. His arm was casually slung over the handrail, his lips drawn into a perfectly straight line and his eyes were fixed on you. The edge of his lips turned up as your eyes locked.

You blinked. “Aragorn! Forgive me, I was unaware of your presence; I would have come sooner.”

“It is good to see you, Y/N.”

“You, as well, mellon nin.” You clapped him on the shoulder. “I had planned to ride north a little while ago.”

“And I had planned to ride for the White City, until Gandalf called upon me.” Aragorn said, and your mouth turned up into a smile. Your eyes flickered up to the ceiling, once again distracted by the beautiful view.

“It is beautiful here. You are very lucky.” Aragorn gave you a small smile. “For why have I been brought here, Aragorn?”

He took a breath. “You will find out, soon enough. For now, you should rest. Your journey could have hardly been sparing.”

“Oh, alright.” You mused, now engaged with the thought of bed and sleep. He gently shook your shoulder. “Goodnight, Aragorn.”

“Goodnight.” He returned to his previous position; arm hung over the bannister as you ambled off in search of a place where you could find rest.

During your search, your feet treading across smooth slabs, and you came to a halt. There were small folk, talking to one another. They were speaking in the common tongue, and seemed half of your height, though you could not really tell from a distance. Fascinating, you thought. So far, the thought had not even crossed your mind that others might be here, besides yourself, Boromir and Aragorn and Gandalf, of course.

One of them moved toward the other, who was staring out among the balcony. The starrer turned, showed something in the palm of his hand and spoke.

“You’re right, Sam. We did what we set out to do.” He opened his hand and lowered his voice. What he said next could not be distinguished by your faint ears. “I am ready to go home.” He put his hand back into his pocket before it slithered out once again, only this time it was empty.

“And where would home be for you two?” You asked. They turned to look at you.

“The Shire, miss.” One said, the one called Sam.

“Hobbits! In Rivendell! How incredible. How curious.” Kneeling down to get a better look, Sam straightening his vest as the other kept a firm hand on his pocket. You noticed. “Do not fret, hobbit from The Shire. I am not interested in stealing from you. Or anyone else, for that matter. But perhaps a small piece of advice is, make it less obvious that you are carrying something worth taking.” The hobbit with brown, curly hair and bright blue eyes smiled sheepishly. You chuckled, standing. “Go to rest, hobbits. Get ready to go home, to The Shire.”

They bumbled off and a smile spread across your face as you continued the forage for somewhere to sleep.

~~~

The morning came quickly. The night had been comfortable, and you set out early to explore the inhabitancy that you had found yourself entering that day previous. A meeting had been called to finally reveal why your presence had been requested, and now, you sat on a chair in a circle, surrounded by some known faces and many unfamiliar ones. There were elves and dwarves grouped near each other, which would never be a good idea. One of the hobbits from the day before sat beside Gandalf. You were located between Boromir and Aragorn, two of your very good friends. Lord Elrond sat at the head of the circle. He stood once everyone had arrived.

“Strangers of distant lands, friends of old. You have summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it.” Lord Elrond began. He scanned those sat before him. “You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this one fate, this one doom.” He paused, turning to the hobbit. He brought his arm forth, inviting him.

“Bring forth the Ring, Frodo.”

By Elrond’s instruction, Frodo placed a golden ring on the centered table. Boromir muttered something under his breath. Then Frodo turned, and sat back in his seat, looking rather timid. You gave him a small smile before your eyes glued to the table and the item it held upon it. It called to you, whispering things in a language that you could not understand and subconsciously you were sure you did not want to hear what it was saying to you. How did a hobbit from the Shire receive a Ring of Power? What business did he have with it?

“It is a gift.” The voice tore you from your thoughts. Your eyes caught sight of Boromir standing beside you. “A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring?” You pursed your lips in disapproval. One who thought of using any of the Rings of Power is a fool.

“Long has my father, the steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay by the blood of our people, while your lands kept safe.” He looked at you, nodding, giving you the notion that you should be encouraging him. But you couldn’t help but think that Boromir sounded rather ill. Your eyes travelled to the floor for a moment before he continued. “Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against Him.”

“Do you know nothing of the Ring?” Your brows furrowed as you spoke, unable to contain your discontent for his words any longer. “It is because of Man’s weakness that the Ring survives. It is not safe in the hands of Men.” You spat unwillingly. You hadn’t expected your words to come off so aggressive. After all, you did not want to hurt Boromir’s feelings, just make him see sense. His eye caught yours and you gave him an apologetic look.

“It does not matter; you cannot wield it. None of us can.” Aragorn said. “The one Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.”

“And what would a ranger know of this matter?”

“Boromir—”

“This is no mere ranger.” Behind Boromir someone stood. It was an elf. Some of his silky hair had been tied back into braids and a velvet cloak smothered his built body. His dark brows drew together as he spoke. “He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.” You studied him with curiosity, narrowed slightly whilst you scanned his presence. His eyes locked with yours for a brief moment before you turned them back to Boromir, who seemed to be staring at your friend in utter disbelief.

“Aragorn? This, is Isildur’s heir?”

“And heir to the throne of Gondor.” The elf finished and you looked at him as a way to avoid Boromir’s gaze. It was true. The White City that Boromir’s father currently ruled deserved to have their rightful King back. You could only hope that one day Aragorn would finally take the throne and restore the faith of Gondor once again.

“Sit down, Legolas.” Aragorn spoke in an elvish tongue. So, this was the infamous Legolas, you thought. Aragorn had spoken a lot of him to you in the past, but you had yet to meet him until this very moment.

“Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King.” Boromir took his seat beside you, but you still refused to return his eye. Instead, you and the elf shared a look.

“Aragorn is right. We cannot use it.” Gandalf confirmed.

“You have only one choice.” Lord Elrond stood. “The Ring must be destroyed.” Silence fell among the space for a moment, before a dwarf shifted off of his seat, his fingers tightening around the axe beside him.

“What are we waiting for?” He rumbled, swinging his axe over his shoulder to slice the Ring with a roar. His blade ricocheted and shattered. His back became flush to the floor, his eyes wide in shock. You gasped, sitting forward in your seat to rush to help him. But before you could, the other dwarves appeared by his sides, steadying him.

Frodo clutched his chest when the dwarf’s blade collided with the Ring, as if the axe had struck Frodo himself. Pain seemed to radiate through his body. You looked to him, concerned. Gandalf had also noticed the hobbit’s reaction to the attempted destruction of the Ring.

“The Ring cannot be destroyed Gimli, Son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade.” Lord Elrond looked around at the subjects once again. “It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this.”

“One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The great eye,” he made a circle with his hand, “is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this, it is folly.”

“Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed.” Legolas stood, once again challenging your companion. You agreed that the Ring had to be destroyed, there was no doubt about that. Venturing deep into Mordor, however, was an impossible task.

“And I suppose you think you’re the one to do it.” Gimli bellowed from his seat, eyes wide with hatred, fixed upon the elf.

“And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?” Boromir stood and you mirrored his actions, gently grabbing his arm, ushering him to calm down.

“I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!” The words of Gimli, son of Gloin, had all of the elves standing in protest which quickly led to the dwarves standing in hostility too. The squabbling continued despite your attempts to calm it down. You took your seat, sharing a defeated sigh with Aragorn. Gandalf stood to try to diffuse the tension.

“I will take it.” A small voice against the yelling caught your attention. Frodo had stood, standing beside the table. You pulled Aragorn’s sleeve to get his attention, your brows furrowed.

“I will take it!” The disputing seemed to die down when he raised his voice and you shook your head gently at him. “I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though… I do not know the way.”

“I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins. As long as it is yours to bear.” Gandalf placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Aragorn stood from beside you, marching towards the hobbit, keeling.

“If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword.”

It was no question for you as you stood, kneeling beside Aragorn. “You have my knives.”

“And you have my bow.” Legolas moved towards the hobbit. The three of you moved behind Frodo. You gently rubbed his shoulder, sharing a smile with him when he looked up at you.

“And my axe.” Gimli raised his weapon in the air, joining you.

“You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, Gondor shall see it done.” Boromir gave you a smile and you were quick to return it. A yell echoed from behind, another hobbit running to join Frodo. It was Sam.

“Mister Frodo’s not goin’ anywhere without me.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“No, indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.” A smirk tugged at Elrond’s lips and more shouts were heard from behind. Two more hobbits joined.

“We’re comin’ too! You’ll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us.” One said, slinging his arm around Frodo’s shoulders.

“Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission. Quest. Thing.” The other chimed in, raising his eyebrows. The other turned to him in disbelief.

“Well, that rules you out, Pip.” You giggled quietly at the hobbits, the one in the yellow waistcoat turning to grin at you before Lord Elrond chuckled slightly. His eyes scanned over the group before him.

“Ten companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.”

“Right! Where are we going?” The hobbit in the green coat, Pip, asked. The other, once again, stared at him in disbelief. Gandalf shook his head.

~~~

You were chatting aimlessly with Aragorn by the gates of Rivendell, where you had arrived only a few days previous. The Fellowship were getting ready to leave in the next hours, you had been preparing for days. Now, all that was needed was to get little extra items that could help along the journey.

Aragorn gave a smile to someone behind you and you turned, standing beside him. It was Legolas. You smiled at him and he returned it.

“Forgive me, my Lady, but I am unsure of your name.” He said.

“Y/N. Pleased to finally meet you, my Lord.”

“Legolas Greenleaf.” He corrected. “The pleasure is mine.”

“So, you are the infamous elf that Aragorn has mentioned to me so many times. I had begun to believe Arwen was no longer in his heart and you had taken her place.” Legolas and Aragorn chuckled at your joke. You gave Aragorn a cheeky grin before you caught sight of Boromir. “Please, excuse me.” He made his way toward you as you did the same. When you reached each other, he chuckled, shaking his head.

“You just cannot help yourself, can you?” Boromir said and you giggled. “I am proud of you. It was a brave thing to do.” You threw your arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you for coming along, too. It will be nice to have Aragorn around and, of course, the others who I am yet to know, but I am very glad for your presence.”

“And I for yours.” He chuckled, clapping you gently on the shoulder. You gave him one last tight squeeze before making your way over to the dwarf. You stood silently beside him for a little time, while he mumbled things to himself that you could make out.

“Forgive me for interrupting you, Master Dwarf. I would like to know your name; I do not recall it from the meeting.”

“You’re not interrupting me, lassie. The name is Gimli, Son of Gloin.” Gimli responded, giving you a tight-lipped smile. You returned it with a genuine smile though you worried he was wary of you.

“Pleased to meet you, Gimli, Son of Gloin. I am Y/N.” You responded kindly. Not knowing what else you could say, your feet decided to take you over to the hobbits, one of which you had already met. Sam and the other two hobbits were tending to their respective packs that they would bring on the journey. Frodo was absent.

“There’s a girl?”

“Yes, there’s a girl, Pip. Did you not see?” The other replied.

“Stood beside Strider, she was.” Sam mentioned, earning a nod from the other.

“Are you talking about me, hobbits?” You drew your arms over your chest, one of your eyebrows raised, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“N—No, miss! We were just—”

“Then, what exactly were you talking about?”

They looked between each other. “Merry was speaking about you, miss. Talkin’ of how pretty you were, he was.” Sam admitted and your heart felt warm in your chest. Pip nodded to back up Sam’s claim and a light blush dusted over Merry’s cheeks. You smiled.

“You are very sweet, Merry. If I may call you that.”

“Meriadoc Brandybuck is my full name. But call me Merry if you please.”

“Alright, Merry.” You said softly.

“What’s yours?” Pip questioned.

“Y/N.”

“That’s a nice name.” Sam gushed and you could not help but grin. Who knew that a few hobbits could be so incredibly sweet? You pondered, ruffling their hair gently before you wandered off again, sitting by yourself this time.

~~~

It had been almost a week since the Fellowship had set off from Rivendell and all had agreed that a night stop was definitely needed. You and Aragorn had agreed that you would take the night watch for you did not get much rest even at home. It was not difficult for you to still function without much sleep. Before everyone went off to bed, however, they were shoveling food down their empty stomachs. You sighed, looking at the food spread. You were not particularly hungry though you knew you were going to have to eat something. Sam finished his own food and made sure Frodo completed all of his, plating up another portion and plodding his way over to you. He sheepishly held out the bowl to you, scratching the back of his neck with his spare hand. You gave him a smile, thanking him, taking the bowl before biting into the food. Sam took a seat beside you, making sure you would eat everything.

“You should really be eatin’ everything you can, Y/N. We wouldn’t be wanting you to starve.”

A breathy laugh left your lips. “I’m alright, Sam. You needn’t worry about me.”

“Not worrying, miss. Just making sure you’re alright.”

“Thank you.” Sam shared a smile with you. “And you? Are you alright?” He gave you a nod. You continued to eat until you had finished everything in the bowl. By that time, most of the Fellowship had settled down to get some sleep but Sam was still at your side.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He yawned, treading off to settle beside his master. You wrapped your cloak further around yourself, sitting beside Aragorn. Neither of you spoke for a while, rather just enjoying the other’s presence in a comfortable silence.

You do not remember much of how you and Aragorn had met, only that he had saved your life. He was known to you as Strider back then. There was a creature that attempted to attack you. You knew nothing of combat back then. He slayed the beast and brought you back to Rivendell. Quick friends you had become. Somehow, Lord Elrond arranged for you to be taken to Gondor. It was there that you would grow up. Boromir acted as your father since you had first arrived there. He was protective of you; you were the daughter he had failed to have.

“What are you thinking of, mellon nin?” Aragorn said in a whisper. You took a breath.

“Our friendship. And how I am glad to spend time with you once again before I make my decision.”

“Have you made it?” He queried, turning his head to look at you and you shook your head at him.

“It is not simple, Aragorn. How am I supposed to make a decision that affects the rest of my life and those who will come after me?” Another sigh left your lips and you leaned into Aragorn’s side.

“I could not describe the feeling when Arwen chose what she wanted. My heart ached with many feelings.”

“Arwen has something to choose for,” you mentioned. “Who knows? Perhaps I will meet a lovely fellow, be it man, elf, dwarf, or even, hobbit, and I decide that I want to spend the rest of my life with them. That would sway my decision quite a lot. I could not imagine being shipped off to the Undying Lands while my love stays on Middle-Earth. Nor would I want to wait for them to die and then hop on a boat to live forever. I am unsure, Aragorn.”

“You need not make any decision yet, mellon.” You continued to speak with your close friend throughout the night, whilst keeping close watch on your surroundings. However, what you did not notice was that a third member of the Fellowship was far from sleep and had in fact been listening in on your conversation.

Legolas rolled over, turning away from the two of you, his head against something that acted as a quite poorly pillow. He had not the slightest idea of what you meant, only that for some reason, you could choose to make your way to the Undying Lands. But this was something that man could not do, so why were you able to choose? He did not know. But he wanted to find out. He did not know why but you intrigued him. How friendly yet quiet you were. The timid yet confident way that you carried yourself. The knives that you held on your belt. He had not seen you use them yet, luckily, but he was looking forward to. You were the first woman he had seen since Tauriel who carried weapons. It was not common for a woman to be trained in combat. He pondered where you had learned, and if you were any good at all.

“The night is long, mellon nin. You should rest.” Aragorn suggested.

You let out a chuckle. “And leave you by yourself? You will need me to protect you from any danger. I will not rest.” Aragorn smiled at your words and gave you a nod. Your eyelids became heavy throughout the night, but you refused to give in to the temptation and the snores of Gimli were sure to keep you from any sleep that you could potentially get. Fixing your cloak around yourself for warmth, your eyes continued to search the space around you. Your ears perked up so to hear any sign of movement. You watched your breath exit your mouth and disperse into the crisp air. The moon was bright and tall in the sky. Hoping nothing would come in the night, you sighed and relaxed against the tree that you were sat up against though still keeping a firm hand on your knife belt. Aragorn pulled you into his side and you smiled. Your hand tightened around your belt.

“Goodnight, Aragorn.” You whispered, and you hoped it would be.

220 notes · View notes