#gotta keep the customer service grind Up

[catscidr]

// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //

i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k

blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.

you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.

you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.

the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.

he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.

“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.

your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.

he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.

“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.

he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.

“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.

you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?

gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.

the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.

it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!

he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.

but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?

every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.

though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.

“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.

“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.

the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.

“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.

sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.

“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.

“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.

boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him

he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!

you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).

boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.

(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)

he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.

it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.

so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.

“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.

“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.

you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.

watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.

“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.

you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.

“so… got another round in ya?”

[trueaffections]

★ word on the street with SERENA MCCOY ★

first up, roll call: your position at eden and how long have you done it? i’m serena, i’m a vip server at eden, and i’ve been here for like two years. which is like, ten years but also  a week and a half at the same time at a place like this. time flies when you’re paid to have an amazing party every night.

what’s your drink of choice to make for yourself or others?  i’m all about the bubbles. champagne when we go out, like i’m classy, prosecco if we’re drinking back at my place. it’s an underrated perk that everything you say sounds better with a flute in your hand.  

we’re passing you the aux. what’s your number one club classic? for me, it’ll always be crazy in love. i have been dancing to that song in ways that upset my parents longer than any other, it’d be wrong to say anything else. i had a solo in the eighth grade talent show to that song, and if you really get me on a good night, i might break out a little for you. 

what’s your most iconic night out memory? i used to work in midtown houston, and my favorite nights were the nights we’d bring the mechanical bull out. you ever want to watch people get downright disgusting, you start pouring johnnie walker and then start a grinding competition- yes, it is! that’s all we’re all thinking about when you’re up there, don’t lie! it’s the hips! anyway, i think the most iconic nights out start there, for sure. there may or may not have been a night that we shut it down for some vips from a particularly athletic background that wanted some pointers from the bottle girls on how to stay on longer. and what can i say, i’m nothing if not devoted to quality customer service.

what’s your craziest rideshare story? i had a date that didn’t make it past the lyft one time. literally in the amount of time it took us to ride from my house to the bar, he decided he didn’t think it was going to work out. and i know it’s because he didn’t think i was like, a serious person. he didn’t like my job or whatever, but i gotta say, it made me really self conscious about that dress for a minute too. like, i don’t even look good enough that you’d put up with my unambitious ass through apps? that’s harsh. that’s really harsh.

what’s your typical fast food order after the clubs close? i’m the person who always wants to find some little hole in the wall, or like, a food truck, or something. like, why would we go sit in your car and eat garbage when we could keep the party going down the street or something, you know? and tacos are always the biggest crowd pleaser like that. drunk people at least will always  lose their minds for dry tortilla chips, i can tell you that much.

you ready to kick this interview up a notch? should i be scared?

truth or dare? i’m gonna pick truth.

if your life was a book, what’s the title of the chapter you’re in right now? if my life was a book, this chapter would be the one that’s just called like, “i’m waiting.” i’m in the part of the romance novel that’s like, the maiden in the tower, or whatever. and i’m not like totally helpless, i’m scheming my way out too, but damn, can someone give me a hand?

[decepti-thots]

Rodimus or Pharma for the meme?

let's doooo pharma <3

The moment I loved them most: oh my god it's gotta be that ICONIQUE TM moment where adaptus strolls on page possessing pharma during the LL finale arc and then gets upstaged by the corpse he is possessing because pharma is just. too MUCH to not get a word in. it's fantastic. it's a standout moment in that entire finale imo. pharma is one of those characters i think just IMMEDIATELY lifts a story the second he's on panel with just how strongly he always makes his presence known, and the weird little metatextual layer to it that brings for me is so good. pharma will interrupt your possession of him to moon over his not-even-an-actual-ex while he commits hideous murder and that is JUST as it should be. i adore pharma.

The moment I hated them most: i am going to cheat. i never hate pharma. literally cannot come up with a moment that even tangentially approaches 'hate'. every reaction i have to pharma is best described as 'glee'.

The moment I understood them most: how miserable he is on delphi is like... relateable, dude. when you have a job that isn't COMPLETELY shitty but is like 50% too stressful and your team is understaffed and none of your friends are great at keeping in touch and they all live ages away now, and it's grinding you down a bit, so now you're all grumpy and your co-workers are sick of you. i've worked in customer service long term, i get that.

...i mean obviously then we find out about the MURDER BRIBES but like. other than that, very relateable.

[superpaperclip]

Fuck it here’s the start of a Javid fake dating AU.

Ch. 2 | Read on AO3

***

David had been sitting at the dining room table when it started. Sarah sat down across from him with a grin on her face, which David knew meant trouble. He tried unsuccessfully to ignore his sister and focus on his work for about five minutes, during which she didn’t move, before giving up.

“What do you want now and why can’t it wait until I’m done with this paper?” David asked with a huff, lowering the computer screen slightly so he could stare at his sister. Sarah just smiled wider.

“Well, it can’t wait because I know you, and you’ll just start another paper after you’re done with this one. Now as to what I want, I’m telling you you’re coming to a party this weekend. No arguments. The only things you do are go to class and do your work. College is supposed to be fun. You’re supposed to meet people. You haven’t gone on a single date since the semester began. You’re going to this party and I won’t take no for an answer. Besides, it’s hosted by one of Katherine’s friends, Bill. He’s rich, so all the important students will be there.” 

Months, and even years, later, when David thought back on that moment, the two of them staring at each other across the dining room table, he had no clue why he said his next words. Maybe some spirit or supernatural entity possessed him, or he momentarily lost his mind. Indeed, he didn’t register what he had said until the words were out of his mouth.

“I already met someone.” Fuck, he’s in trouble. Now Sarah will never let this go. He’s too focused on trying to come up with a believable lie to register Sarah’s questions, which were undoubtedly along the lines of who the hell is he and why didn’t he tell her sooner and when does she get to meet him. 

“Uhm, well, he… works at… that coffee shop right by campus. And his name is… uh…“ David desperately tries to think of a common name. “Jack! His name is Jack. And that’s all you’re getting from me. Now go away so I can finish this paper.” David resolutely stared at the computer, but Sarah unsurprisingly didn’t put up a fight, opting to leave the table instead. David’s gut told him this was going to backfire and blow up in his face, but he ignored it. Surely nothing too bad could happen, right?

--

Jack was fed up with his job at the coffee shop. More specifically, he was fed up with the customers. He was fed up with having to put on a fake smile every day and deal with rude, disrespectful, and downright mean customers, which seemed to be in abundance lately. Jack was counting down the minutes to the end of his shift when a girl burst through the doors, an annoyed look in her eyes. Jack internally sighed, then plastered his awkward-winning Customer Service Smile on his face, preparing to be berated again. Before he could launch into the standard greeting, the girl spoke. 

“This is the fifth coffee shop I’ve been to today. Please tell me there’s someone named Jack working here, for my brother’s sake.” Jack’s mask slipped, his confusion evident on his face. He didn’t know who this girl was or why her brother’s… health?... rested on his existence. 

“Uh, I’m Jack. Can I help you?” Belatedly, he wondered if he should’ve lied or used a fake name. At hearing his name, the girl’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands.

“Are you the guy who’s been dating Dave? God, I’m gonna kill him. He said your coffee shop was close to campus! I’ve been walking around all afternoon looking for you.” Jack was even more confused by the sudden shift in her mood, and her apparent belief that he was dating someone named Dave.

“Wait, what?” The girl gave him a puzzled look, as if he was an idiot and she hadn’t come barging into his shop claiming he was dating some guy with absolute certainty. When he didn’t show any sign of recognition as to what she was talking about, she huffed and launched into an explanation.

“I’m Sarah. Jacobs, I mean. Sister of David Jacobs. He told me you two were dating, and that you worked here, though he underestimated the distance from campus.” Ah. Her brother- David- must have told her to get her off his back. Jack had enough experience with pushy people to do what he would’ve wanted any of his fake boyfriends to do- lie. Jack just hoped he could be convincing enough.

“Oh, yeah, Davey! He’s told me about you, I just didn’t recognize you. Wait, he… he said we were dating? Really? I didn’t… well, it’s only been a few dates, and I didn’t want to put a label on it, but… he really said we were dating?” Jack hoped his performance was convincing enough, and would give him some leeway to not know anything much about David. He gave Sarah a half-smile and rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to be bashful. Sarah, on the other hand, seemed to buy it. She was almost giddy with joy, and something that seemed like pride. 

“My brother has finally met someone! Oh, by the way, are you coming to Bill’s party this weekend?” Jack fought to keep his face neutral. Going to a party with someone he hadn’t known existed five minutes ago? No way. But still, he decided to let Sarah down easy. She seemed like a nice girl. Let this brother of hers deal with the blowback.

“Well, Davey didn’t say anything. And depending on when it is, I may not be able to go. I have some things to do this evening. But I’ll see if I can.” That seemed to satisfy her. She thanked Jack for his time, told him she hoped to see him at the party, and left. As Jack finally clocked out and walked home, he thought back on what was probably the weirdest interaction he’d had at his job, and hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

--

David was once again being stared at by his sister from across the dining room table while trying to do his work, and once again, ignoring her wasn't working. Sighing, he closed the textbook and stared back at his sister, who had a smug smile on her face.

“You never told me how cute he was. And you greatly underestimated the distance.” Now David was confused. HIs eyebrow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what she said, having already forgotten their earlier conversation. Sarah threw her hands up when it became evident he didn’t know what she was talking about and muttered something under her breath, probably about how clueless he could be.

“Your boyfriend, Jack! Average height, cute, works at Universal Grind Coffee Bar- which, by the way, is not ‘right by campus’. I stopped in to meet him. And I invited him to Bill’s party this weekend. Don’t think you’re getting out of that just because you have a date.” David went pale, his eyes wide. Sarah had actually tracked down some poor guy named Jack who worked at a coffee shop near campus? He needed to apologize, and apparently thank him for playing along.

“Uhm, I gotta… go… do… something.” He stuttered out an excuse as he shot up from his seat and out the door. Jumping in his car, he punched the name of the shop into his GPS, hoping there was only one. Luckily, there was. When he got there, he rushed inside, desperate to apologize. He went up to the nearest employee.

“Excuse me, is Jack here? I really need to talk to him. My name is David.” The employee looked him up and down, confused. 

“I’m his coworker, Spot. His shift just ended. Why? Who are you? What do you need to say to him?” David ignored the questions.

“When’s his next shift? Please, it’s important.” Spot regarded him again. 

“He’s working tomorrow. His shift starts at noon.” After thanking Spot, David left the coffee shop and got back in his car, opting to just sit in the parking lot. What had he gotten himself into?

--

Jack was feeling good when he walked into work the next day. That changed very quickly. As soon as he got in the door, he took stock of the customers already there. His gaze stopped on one particular guy sitting at the counter. His leg was bouncing and he kept fidgeting with a straw, twisting it around his fingers. He looked familiar, Jack thought. Maybe they had a class together. 

Jack was trying to figure out why he recognized this guy as he put on his apron and planted himself by the register when the guy came over.

“I’m sorry, are you Jack?” Was he someone else who was sent by the David guy? Seriously, what were the odds of two attractive strangers asking for him by name two days in a row? He internally grimaced.

“Yeah, I’m Jack. Who’re you?” Jack immediately regretted how sharp his tone was when he saw the guy wince.

“Um, I’m David Jacobs. My sister, Sarah, told me she came to see you yesterday and I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I made up a fake boyfriend with a fake name. I never imagined she would actually go looking for you. Uh, him. But thank you for playing along. Oh, she also said she invited you to a party. Please don’t feel obligated to go. I really don’t want to inconvenience you any more than I already have. Again, I’m sorry.” Honestly, Jack was starting to feel bad for the guy. So he motioned for David to follow him to the back of the shop. Jack sat in a booth that was tucked into the corner, and gestured for David to sit across from him. When he did, Jack asked the question that had been bugging him.

“Why?” David looked to Jack in surprise, obviously not expecting the question.

“Why what?”

“Why did you make up a boyfriend?” At the look on David’s face, Jack worried he crossed a line, but David launched into an explanation.

“Sarah’s always been on my case to get out of the house more, even while we were in high school. One of the ways she tried to do that was by setting me up with different people, hoping I would date someone. After the hundredth girl, I told her I’m gay, but she just started setting me up with boys. The last straw was the party she told you about. I don’t know what came over me, I just blurted out that I was seeing someone. She pressed me for details, and I panicked and said he worked in a coffee shop by campus and his name was Jack. I never meant for you to get caught up in this. I’m so sorry.” Jack thought for a minute before responding.

“Maybe this unfortunate situation can be beneficial for both of us.” He had a mischievous glint in his eye.

“What do you mean?

“Well, my friends are always teasing me about my lack of a partner. So whaddya say we get back at everyone? Your sister and my friends. Here’s what we do: we go to this party, pretend to date for a few months, then have a horrible breakup. That’ll get them off our backs.” 

David sat there, contemplating Jack's offer. Jack could almost see the gears turning in his head. Eventually, he stuck his hand out to shake.

“Deal.”

***

[deluxedolans]

okay but imagine you’re like a cashier at hollister or something and ethan comes get you for your break and then your fifteen minutes over because he decided to fuck you in his car🤤

hi love! thank you for being so patient :))) this lowkey turned into like a blurb and i’m so sorry it took this long 🤦🏻‍♀️ thank you for sending this in and i hope you’re having a fab day/night wherever you are! 💙

as a waitress all i’ve DREAMED about is having ethan just happen to come into my restaurant and hAPPEN to have me wait on him and happen to ask for my number.

this ask out here making me live my customer service fantasy. (sorry this had a very loose connection to your ask but i had to share).

warning: cheesey smut and unrealistic car sex

you’re folding clothes, watching the clock as you wait to go into the break room to eat your lunch.

you’re halfway through folding a shirt when someone with a deep, southern drawl comes up behind you, startling you from your daydreams, “excuse me, ma’am, you know where i can get some damn service around here?”

you immediately whip around, stuttering an apology when you’re met with ethan’s cheeky smile, a massive grin overtaking his face at your reaction.

relieved a customer isn’t there to attack you, you release a huge sigh, “i fuckin’ hate you,” you growl, lightly smacking him in the chest.

“what? somethin’ wrong, little lady?” he continues, chuckling as he pokes your side.

“yeah, that accent. who’re you supposed to be, woody?” you smirk.

“alright, stop roasting me. go get your shit.”

you return from the break room with your phone to follow ethan out of the store, waving at a coworker as you go.

“hey babe, got something for us in my car. know you’ve been craving it lately.”

your eyes light up, “really?! is it a snack?”

ethan’s eyes sparkle with mischief, “you could call it that.”

your lips purse in thought. lately you’d been addicted to flavor blasted gold fish, so maybe it was that. or maybe it was fruit snacks—you two had been loving those lately, too.

once the doors are unlocked and the two of your slide into your respective seats, ethan pulls you into his lap, his lips meeting yours hungrily.

dazed, you kiss back, your tongue tracing his bottom lip begging for entrance. as his mouth opens he greedily slips his hands under your shirt, brushing your soft skin. the kisses become more and more heated, ethan’s hardness growing beneath you as grind on him in response.

you two are deep into your make out session when you hear your stomach growl, reminding you of ethan’s surprise.

your chest heaving, you pull away. “wait, what’s the surprise? didn’t you say you had food waiting for me or something?”

ethan’s chest heaves too as he attempts to catch his breath, lips swollen and cherry red. a smirk painted on his lip, ethan murmurs, “i didn’t say it was food. i just said you’d been craving it s’all.” his lips attach themselves to your neck at your confused expression, sucking a bit on your skin.

“well, then what is it?” you are breathless. ethans dick keeps growing in his pants and the more you’re all over him, the wetter you get.

with a shit-eating grin, ethan takes your hand in his, guiding it down his body until your smaller hand is resting on his hard-on. “you’re looking at it.”

you bust out laughing, your head falling against his chest as the two of you crack up.

tears stream down your face as you choke out, “you’re such a fucking idiot.” ethan can’t stop laughing as you smack his chest.

“i was ready for fucking goldfish!”

“oh please, don’t act like this is such a burden for you. like you don’t want me to fuck you—.”

“watch your mouth, pretty boy, or i’m walking out of this car and leaving you with your own cravings,” you sass, your lips meeting his ear.

ethan feels goosebumps prick up on his arms as you shift in his lap. it’s moments like this where he becomes aware of how deep in love he is with you; the intimacy mixed in with humor, swollen lips and your beautiful smile is what makes his sweaty palms, racing heart and the idea of a ring in the back of his mind that much more prominent.

“you’d never leave me,” ethan husks. internally, ethan constantly prays that you never leave him, his insecurity occasionally plaguing him as he realizes that you are way too good for him; however, the love for him that shines through in your eyes is a constant reassurance—reassurance that you love him almost as much as he loves you.

you roll your eyes, “don’t expose me like this.” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him briefly, his body shaking with a laugh.

you begin to grind on him again and ethan lets out a grunt, his own hips raising up meet yours.

“take off your fuckin’ pants.” his tone is stern yet whiney as his hands dig into your hips to pull you down against him. you giggle, leaning back to slip your leggings down your legs as ethan shimmies his sweatpants down his thick thighs. you lean forward when ethan pushes the seat all the way back, giving you two as much room as the jeep can provide.

ethan’s index and middle finger dip into your wet folds spreading your wetness around and teasing your clit. you squeak with surprise as your thighs jolt with pleasure. you can’t help but lean back a bit to give him more access.

as your head lawls over to the side, eyes half lidded, you catch sight of the clock, cringing at the time. “only got a half an hour break, e, we’ve got 20 minutes.” ethan’s automatically huffing a bit in frustration, head falling back against the seat.

“don’t you pout. you’re the one who picked now to fuck.”

ethan’s eyes shut in bliss as he sticks his fingers into his mouth, sucking your juices off the digits. “don’t want you to go,” he whines, his hands grabbing your ass in his hands before delivering a hard smack.

you blush, “well, i’m here now, lemme take care of you.” you lower yourself to sit on his thighs, taking his dick in your hand as you rub his member up and down your folds in anticipation.

“come on, pretty girl, sit on me. need you now.” ethan’s deperation for your warmth and your touch becomes evident as his hips arch up as you tease him. usually, you’d draw it out a little more, but with 17 minutes left on the clock, you needed to work quickly.

“im sittin’, im sittin’. so needy for me,” you whisper as you lower yourself onto him.

“always need—, holy shit,” ethan groans, his hands squeezing your ass in his grasp as your tight walls sink down around him.

you gasp for breath as you slowly but surely make your way to bottoming out, pacing yourself due to his thickness. at the feeling of your ass against his balls, you both let out a deep sigh simultaneously, giggling in unison.

“told you you needed this.” ethans voice is cocky and taunting as he looks at you with loopy eyes. he’s practically high on you right now and can barely keep his eyes open due to the euphoria your pussy brings him.

your eyes are shut tight as you adjust around him, your walls clenching. “yeah, yeah, whatever. like your dick wasn’t hard for me as soon as you walked into hollister.” as you tease him, your hips shift, grinding a bit to generate some friction.

ethans eyes flutter shut, his jaw clenching. “you could have a bag over your head and i’d still be ready to dick you down, angel.” ethan then grabs your hips and thrusts upward, effectively knocking the breath out of you.

ethan’s hips continue to roll upwards as you lean forward against his chest, your body quickly feeling boneless from the pleasure. “you like that, y/n? you like when i fuck you this hard? can’t even sit up. tell me how good you feel, baby, hmm?” ethan’s thrust are deep, but slow, his hips pulling back completely to make sure the tip is the only thing inside you before swiftly pushing back in, bottoming out every time.

your eyes are in the back of your head by this point, your head leaning against his beefy shoulder. it is unreal how well ethan knows your body, how well he knows what you crave. ethan dolan has been a deadly combination for you from the get-go; his quick-wit, dirty words, incredible stroke-game combined with his tender touch are how you knew he is your endgame. even after all of the time you’ve spent together, his ability to work your body and know all your favorite things to get you to cum as fast as possible still make your heart swell with love and your body quake with pleasure.

at your lack of response, ethan pinches your hip, his mouth raising to your ear. “won’t touch your clit til you talk. gotta use your words, c’mon.” ethans left hand moves from your ass to below your belly button, thumbs pressing into your lower stomach to feel how deep he is in your guts.

your eyes pop open as you roll your head to the side, the two of you making eye contact through your half lidded gazes. “feels s’good, e, i love it, i love it, i love it,” you chant as he plants his feet into the ground for a few moments, drilling you, your ass jiggling from the force.

ethan chuckles at your words, his hand sliding down your stomach and towards your sensitive nub, “good girl, s’what i thought. you gonna keep being a good girl for me? wanna ride my dick like i know you can? gonna make yourself cum on my cock?” ethans rattling off questions as he stops moving, his dick as deep inside of you as possible, your breath stolen from your lungs.

“yesssss, e, love riding you. wanna be a good girl.” your head falls back as you take your time propping yourself up, arms on his shoulders as you prepare yourself to bounce on his cock.

ethans jaw clenches as he takes in your appearance; your scoop neck top has ridden down a bit to reveal your flushed chest, your cheeks red and rosey while your eyes are screwed shut in bliss. he stares at you for several seconds to commit this sight to memory; his own perfect angel, made just for him.

as soon as you begin grinding, moving up and down, ethan places his thumb between your two moving bodies to rub your clit. as usual, as soon as he touches you, your body can’t help but to react, jolting towards him and breaking your rhythm. you crave ethans touch so much your body literally can’t help but respond to it.

“uh uh, baby, gotta keep going. keep bouncing on my dick. you can do it, you can handle it. be my good girl,” he remarks. you nod, taking a moment to collect yourself before sitting back up fully and resuming your movements.

the sound of skin slapping on skin gets even louder as your ass smacks against his thighs, your heat dripping in wetness the deeper ethan goes and the more his fingers work you.

“you like when i play with your pussy, gorgeous? like my fingers all over you?”

“mmm, fuckin’ love it. you do it so goooood,” you moan, your speed increasing as you feel your legs start to shake, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“yeah? you gonna come for me? gonna cum—.”

you can’t help but interrupt ethan in the middle of his dirty talk, “yes, yes, yes! feels too good, e, don’t stop, please!” your legs feel more and more fatigued but getting to your high provides you with an adrenaline rush to power through the slight burn in your thighs.

ethan can’t help but break into a smile at you interrupting him, his ego increasing tenfold. “let go for me, babe, come on,” ethan grabs onto your hip with one hand, once again planting his feet firmly onto the car floor as he fucks up into you frantically, his finger rubbing quick and harsh over your clit.

once again, your head falls onto his shoulder as you become overwhelmed with pleasure. “come on, y/n, head up. look at me, you can’t come til i see those eyes.” ethan’s voice takes on a softer tone, his hand cupping your cheek softly so he can watch you come undone. his thumb rubs the apple of your cheek as he murmurs encouragement, your hot breath intermingling. “there we go, angel, open your eyes for me.” your eyes slowly peels themselves open, and ethan smiles warmly, your beauty captivating him and making his heart thud. “so pretty for me like this.” ethans’ voice is smooth as silk as he delivers a particularly hard thrust that has you cumming, your eyes half open and your toes curling as you ride it out.

“ethan, ethan, e! i—i can’t, so good—m’cumming.” you spit out whatever words come to mind as your body releases itself, ethan fucking himself up into you even harder. ethans can feel himself getting closer to his peak as soon as he feels your walls get impossibly tight around him, his legs stiffening in anticipation.

“so pretty for me when you cum, baby.” ethan’s always quick to compliment you as you come down, his love for you often overflowing in those moments.

as soon as your orgasm is over, you’re immediately starting back up with filthy words, edging ethan towards his own. “s’your turn now, baby. gonna cum deep inside? love it when you do that. come on, e, fuck me harder, wanna feel you in my guts, yeah?” you’re firing off all of his favorite lines, his jaw clenching like a vice as you hop on his dick, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

“such a good girl, y/n, you’re riding my cock so good.”

“always make me feel so good, e, love riding your dick, love you,” as ethan thrusts harder you start to gasp, his thrusts hitting you deeper and deeper.

“fuck, i’m cumming, i’m cumming—.” ethan pulls out quickly to release on your stomach, eyes fluttering open to watch his cum paint your soft skin.

as ethan comes down from his peak, his face is pink and his breathing is heavy, eyes shutting as soon as you run your fingers through his damp and dark locks. once your fingers start to tickle his beard, though, his eyes shoot open, a goofy smile gracing his face.

you smile back, rolling your eyes. “what are you smiling at?”

“nothin’. you’re just the shit, that’s all.”

you can’t help but giggle, “you tryna inflate my ego?”

“maybe...or, i just love you a lot,” he shrugs, facing tinting with a blush at his open admission.

“i love you too.” your hands softly trace every inch of his face, memorizing his freckles, moles, stubble; everything that makes him...him.

“but don’t worry, i’ve got something that’ll humble you real quick.” ethan reaches over into the glove compartment to grab some napkins, cleaning your stomach of his mess.

you lift yourself off of ethan to lean back against the steering wheel in preparation to redress yourself. “oh christ, what is it?”

“you forgot my clock’s 10 minutes fast; you’re fifteen minutes past your break.” ethan is already leaning over to grab your leggings off the floor of the passenger side, laughing as your face pales.

“oh my—you asshole! why didn’t you say anything?!” you’re slapping his chest as he cackles, but you can’t help but giggle a bit at the fact that you just fucked your boyfriend for so long that you are now late for work.

“gotta satisfy those cravings!” ethan retorts with a quirked eyebrow.

you respond by slapping giving his shoulder a slight shove as the two of you cackle. then, it’s a race for the two of you to pull on your pants to rush back into the store, brainstorming excuses as to why you were late considering you’d never even left the premises.

[shaekingshitup]

Grindin

A/N: EEEPP. This is my first attempt at a reader insert. Reader is always gonna be black. I missed a many of days. Here is the day 3 prompt because I liked this idea! Kind of based off my favorite coffee shop. Maybe I’ll do more for this lil story? 💁🏿 The chime for the door is literally from this song here. 

Summary: Reader goes back home to open a coffee shop and meets a man that stirs some things in her. 

“I love the concept,” you commented, “ I know we were only interested in black and blue originally. But can you do a mock up with gold lettering as well?”

“YAS! THAT! I like THAT! exclaimed Ray

“Already done,” Lulu noted and pulled out a secondary growler mock up from behind the print that you were assessing.

“You know me so well,” you smiled.

“Yeah, your ass is kinda predictable” she smiled back which earned her a tongue out.

This was your first meeting of the month and so far everything was going great. You loved that you could live out your dreams with the two people you trusted more than anyone in the world. Lulu had been by your side since you both realized you were the only two Spelman freshmen who were both from Cali in your class.  By your second semester y’all were so inseparable that everyone thought you were sisters. And by year 2 you were already living together. Thank God y’all had separate interests which kept your friendship and now your business in a healthy and ever growing state. You were engrossed in the world of science. You had been a bio major who often volunteered at the local greenhouse. That helped you establish your small but busy coffee shop a year and a half ago. Lulu was a graphic artist whom also was in charge of all Grindin social media and the unofficial pastry taste tester. Ray had come along when the ladies were rooming together off campus. He was a community college to 4- year transplant at Clark Atlanta but the boy was born and raised in Macon, Georgia and he’d never let you forget it. It was evident that once he met the girls at a mixer in his first week, the friendship was a wrap. That spawned regular visits back to his parents’ homes on the weekends and even some holidays spent in the south. After graduation, the bond never broke. You and Lulu returned to Cali with Ray in tow so that he could use his business degree to help birth Grindin.

You glanced over to Sherell. The Brewista Lead for the morning shift. You knew that Sherell had been strugglin to keep up a healthy sleeping schedule with finals right around the corner and the nerves of her impending graduation from Lincoln. She was a sweet girl and you couldn’t stand to see her bare any more stress. You were so caught up in your thoughts about Sherell that you had missed the very clear topic change amongst your friends.

“Okay, but that nigga’s arms? They biggg. You know what that mean!” sad Ray pointedly at Lulu

“HA” she cackled, “ that don’t mean nothin’. My guy has really soft eyes and you know Y/N loves a guy who is easy on the eyes,” Lu quips

“Bitch, you see the caterpillar above those eyes? We don’t nee her birthin the next Helga Pataki in these streets”

“Ugh” you groaned as you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know how many times we have to have to do this but I do not under any circumstances want you two meddling in my love life,”

“But” they chorused.

“BUT NOTHING! Every human with an assumed penis and who looks like they got more than $150 in the bank becomes a contestant for your little game of ‘Win a Date with Y/N’! I run a coffee shop! Not a dating service. I’m done explaining shit to y’all. Stop harassing my customers and let my ass worry about who I am with! I mean that shit.”

“I told you we should have started addin females to the list,” whispers Ray as you walk over to the counter.

“Raymond Johnson the IV and Eyeluta Nicole Hathaway, if I hear one more word from either of y’all you both gone be banned from any pastries for the rest  of the month” you spat feeling like the unofficial mother of your group yet again. You took a deep breath and continued toward the counter. 

“Sherell, how’s it going?” you asked a you approached the register.

She sighed heavily.

“You know what? You need a break. Go in the back and relax your eyes a bit. I’ll man the front”

“Oh no. It’s really-“

You cut her off. “Get back there and relax a little. I think I know how to run a register,” you winked.

You were on the register and Antwon was pouring at the bar. You two were in a good rhythm. It was either bustling or there was one customer to tend to today. There didn’t seem to be any in between this morning. 

GRINDIN rang out as the next patron entered.

“Welcome!” Antwon called out as you were assessing the stock supply up in the floor.

When you turned around you were met with... Well, you weren’t quite sure how to describe him. Fine was an understatement. Standing six feet tall was a milk chocolate wonder with a physique that his dark turtleneck and three piece suit couldn’t hide.

Keep it professional y/n

Before you could even get a breath out he growled “Y’all really got Clipse playin every time the damn door open?” He said this with his eyes glued to his screen as if looking up was such a difficult feat to conquer at 7:32 a.m.

“Yeah. It’s a signature touch,” you responded to the stranger. At your voice, he looked up and offered a smirk that probably made most women collapse at first sight. You still hadn’t made up your mind though.

“I’m feelin it.”

“Is this your first time here? I’m more than welcome to answer any questions you have about the menu or the store in general” you offered.

“Nah. I’ve been in a time or two before. Never seen you before,” he very openly eyed you up and down, “I normally let my assistant handle this shit though, you know Miss… “

“Y/N. Well, since you’ve been here before then you’re familiar with our unique take on the menu.” you supplied.

“Yeah, y’all rotate teas and coffees quarterly. You seem to keep a few staples- which I ‘preciate and y’all got some corny ass names for these drinks too.”

You bristled a bit at that last part. “There’s nothing wrong with a little creativity.”

“Never said there was, Y/N” At this point you couldn’t tell if you wanted to serve this man or show him the door. You chose the professional route.

“So, what does your assistant normally bring you Mr…?” you trailed off

“Just Erik is fine. My favorite is the single origin. Black.  It’s always the best way to start my day.”

“Mine too.” you smiled. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all

“If you’re into the single origin and you love that bold, black, taste something similar with just a little more sweetness is Brew Thang.”

He chuckled. “See what I be saying about these names? How you expect a grown ass man to order a drink called ‘Brew Thang’?”

“It’s good. Once you have a taste, you won’t have a hard time getting it to roll of your tongue.” you sassed.

Oh fuck . I didn’t mean it like that. I gotta keep this professional. I don’t need a bad review from this guy.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh really? Then lemme get a taste,” he said licking his lips. Your eyes widened slightly but he caught it. 

“Size?” you asked looking down at the tablet screen. 

“Large” he said with a bld and dark stare, “How much I owe you?”

“This one will be on the house. I want to make sure you’re satisfied.”

OH MY GAWD GIRL? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS COMING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH. PLEASE LEAD WITH YOUR HEAD AND LESS OF THE PUSSY

“Antwon, let’s switch. I’ll take the bar. You take the register!” You yelled out and quckly you two transitioned so that he could help the growing line of customer and you could bang out the drinks. Erik followed as you moved to the bar where he watched you work your magic. Once you were done pouring his drink you gave it to him. You got started not the next orders not the board but made sure to keep an eye on him as he took the first sip.  

“Fuck ma. This shit good” It was your turn to smirk. 

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. So now you’re hooked on the Brew Thang?”

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely satisfied.” You failed to hide your giggle as you called out that Ricky’s order was ready. Erik stuck around for a little after that inquiring about other menu items that you told him not be too quick to judge based on their names. The initial tension had dissolved and you two were in a comfortable rhythm of commenting on both the menu and the changes you’d seen in Oakland during the last few years. Thankfully there wasn’t a rush at the moment and it was fine for your to be off to the side of the bar answering any questions he could put forth. He was attentive to your passion regarding the menu and all that went into the shop as a whole.

“Hol up. You ain’t a barista. This is yo shit?”

“I prefer Brewista and yes. I do co-own this shop with my best friend Ray and we have a great Graphic Artist, Lulu, on deck too” The more he learned about you. The more he wanted to know.

“Okay Miss Entrepreneur. I see you. Damn, does that mean that you tha one that come up with these corny ass names then?”

You scowled playfully. “You keep talkin on my name and you gone catch these hands. I’m a professional. But I grew up on these streets. I can throw blows Erik,”

“My bad baby girl. I respect your grind.”

“Okay. So who really is the corny one here?”

“Whatever,” he smiled. A genuine smile with teeth and this made you want to melt right there. “Anyways, speaking of Brew Thangs, you got  a ni-“

His phone rang and he glanced down cursing. He put up his index finger and gestured that he just need one moment. You nodded your consent.

“What up T?”

In that time that he took his call, you looked up and saw that you had a line out the door. Sherrell came back out to the floor and your two were in a great rhythm getting through the 16 drink orders that had come up. When you looked up again, Erik was no where to be found. Now that the shop was stable you let Sherell do her thang and went into the back to re-convene with Lu & Ray.

“Y/N we need to get you an award for best employer. You really be out here goin the extra mile for your staff,” Lu said. You lifted the corner of your mouth in a weak attempt at a smile.

“Uh uh. Hoe what’s wrong?” Ray said noting your dejected spirt.

“Now? Now you listen to me?!” you yelled. “ALLL the time, I tell yo asses not to intervene in my love life and the one time it may have actually been beneficial y’all were no where to be seen!”

“I know she didn’t” Ray said.

“Yeah. She did” Lu, retorted. “I’m gonna ignore your funky attitude because I can see you’re going through something sis. What’s the deal?”

“I was talking to this guy. This man. And y’all he was so charming and sexy as hell and he wasn’t afraid to talk about shit that matters and I just turned away to make some drinks and he disappeared! I really thought he was gonna make a move. Or at the very least that you two would move in on him and make me sit through another awkward date. But nooooooo, you two finally decided to respect my wishes for once and now Imma die alone!” you monologued.

“You done?” Lu asked.

“Yes” you pouted.

“Aww come here baby,” Ray said with his arms outstretched, “I’m sure he’ll be back.” He hugged your frame tightly and rubbed some circles into your back. “Especially if you turned around when you were in front of him, cuz BABY GOT BACK!!” He yelled.

You and Lu laughed as he started smackin your ass and shakin his own. Soon enough you were all in the back twerkin like it was the first night y’all meet all over again. Hopefully he’d be back.

I’m sorry I forgot who to tag! Soooo if you got tagged and didn’t wanna be I’m sorry. The inverse is the same 😁

@twistedcharismaaa @raysunshine78

@ghostfacekill-monger @yoursoulstea 

@shewrites02 @sarcastic-sunshines

@thadelightfulone

[daughterofposeidon25]

DaughterOfPoseidon Fanfiction Masterlist

🍋 = Lemons ;) NSFW

🌟 = Favorites

Please read at your own risk. Carefully read tags and enjoy!

My Hero Academia

Kiribaku

When You Let Your Heart Win by tea_at_yazes

Bakugou Katsuki finally achieves his dream of becoming Number One Hero, but he still feels like something is missing.

No Shoes, No Shirt, No Homo by SummerBummin  🌟

The shirtless man passed the stick from hand to hand, then spun it around his abdomen so it was back in front of him. He lifted the stick up, one end pointed directly at his mouth, and swallowed the flame.

“Holy shit.” Katsuki whispered. Then the man opened his mouth wide, and blew out fire like a fucking dragon. Katsuki’s jaw hit the floor as he watched the flames billow out, red, orange, gold, and a hint of electric blue.

Katsuki unconsciously took a step forwards, through the leaf cover and into the clearing. “Motherfucker, that’s badass! How the hell did you do that?!”

The shirtless man shrieked and fumbled the burning stick in his giant hands. The stick slipped through his thick fingers and landed right on his bare foot. He jumped up again, hopping on one foot and swearing up a storm. Katsuki had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep his laughter in.

Everglow by Maplefudge 🌟

Eijirou and Katsuki are known to be a formidable duo, one being a dragon shifter, the other a powerful human with explosive magic. They work together as if it's second nature, and the nations know their names. However, it hasn’t always been like that.

aka

The story of how Eijirou and Katsuki accidentally formed a life bond with each other and ended up as reluctant partners.

Kitsune Bakugo and Oni Kiri (Inu x Boku SS AU) by ComiclzWrites   🍋

The Maison de Ayakashi is a high security apartment building where humans with demon or yōkai ancestors reside, each guarded by their own Secret Service bodyguard. Bakugo stuck with the ancestor of the Kitsune has been moved into the apartment as his parents last ditch effort to fix his aggressive personality; his hired bodyguard Kirishima the ancestor of the Oni seems determined to turn his world upside-down.

We Gotta Work This Out by Assido_Mina   🍋

Sleep hasn't been coming easily to Bakugou lately, and it's pissing him off to no end. The only thing that he can think of to work off some of this anger at himself is to head to the gym and destroy some equipment.

Unfortunately for him, it seems the gym isn't empty tonight...

A Day Without You by bittymirror 🍋

safe & sound by Authoress 🌟

“I don’t need a friendly face,” Bakugou says, purposefully sitting in the seat furthest from Kirishima.

“Okay, maybe not,” Kirishima says. He smiles. “But I made tea.”

All I Ask of You by Hejter for ThatFunkyOpossum 🌟

Bakugou is scared of thunder, Kirishima sings him a tune from one of the musicals they watch together to help him calm down. Fluff abound.

Be Gentle by deviance 🌟

“So listen. I've never--" Bakugou cut himself off, grinding his teeth and groaning, face reddening, "had a friend like you," he finally finished, obviously stressed by that much admission. "So whatever, I'm not the greatest at social stuff. Not a surprise. Like I fucking care. I say what I want and do what I want."Kirishima had to fight to keep from whispering 'So manly' in reaction to Bakugou's honesty, despite everything."So I might not be the best at, like, reading signs or whatever," Bakugou waved off. "I'm the best at everything else so it's fine."Kirishima blinked. "What are you trying to say, man?""I mean," he growled, "that I didn't realize you were into me like that. And that I'm not fucking against it. But I don't know shit about dating."It took Kirishima an embarrassingly long amount of time to process that."So...are you saying you like me like that too?" He finally asked.

We're What Killed The Dinosaurs by ren_sauce

Five times Bakugou called Kirishima stupid and meant it + one time he didn't.

Something Warm by let_me_wander 🌟

When an annoying customer with ridiculous hair starts frequenting the coffee shop Bakugou works at in the weeks before Christmas, he doesn't think much of it. Until it becomes all he can think about.

Awkward flirting, the first snow, a rock show, and probably way too much coffee.

The Dandiest Lion by IronicVeghead

Bakugou Katsuki is having enough trouble trying to figure out how his drama queen of a cat, Cherry Bomb is getting out of his townhouse everyday. He does NOT need the added trouble of dealing with figuring out why she is suddenly coming home with tiny cat flower crowns on her head every single day. From the prompt: "My cat disappears every afternoon and returns every night with a mini flower crown on her head. Who the fuck is making kitty flower crowns?"

Hard To Find, Lucky To Have by QuirklessWonder (SouthernSmartAss)

“Hey, Bakugou, I have a question,” Kaminari said, and Bakugou snarled at him in response.

“What the fuck do you want?” Bakugou asked, prepared for some sort of inane question that would push him over the edge. Aizawa would be pissed if he got into another fight before his house arrest was even over, but maybe if he just repeated whatever bullshit that Kaminari said to him he’d understand.

“You’ve got to answer with complete hones-tea,” Kaminari said, stressing the last syllable and tapping on the mug like he thought that Bakugou wouldn't get it. The pun caught him off guard, confusion momentarily replacing his anger.

“What -”

“Do you think I have any integri-tea?” Kaminari asked, and his voice would almost sound earnest if it wasn't for the emphasized syllable. The back of Bakugou's throat itched, and he forced his face into a scowl. “Or how about modes-tea?”

oh shit, i'm the grown up. by antheiabelle  🌟

Looking back, Bakugou’s life as a hero was nothing like he’d ever imagined it to be. And yet, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Mr. Sunshine by deviance for Maplefudge  🌟

"Sorry," Kirishima murmured after a long silence, breathing in the smoky burnt scent that always lingered on Bakugou, "about earlier. I was...being stupid.""Shut up," Bakugou muttered, rubbing at his arm and leaning his head against his. "You're allowed to not always be a ray of fucking sunshine. It's not stupid to want some time to yourself. Hell, I do that shit all the time, like I'm going to judge."

risk & reward by Dreaming_of_Fairys for Koboni   🍋 🌟

Kirishima wakes Bakugou up in the middle of the night to end a week long drought of no sex despite the risk of being caught.

A Healthy Dose Of Realisation by just_a_couple_of_thoughts   🍋

When Kirishima's feelings for Bakugou develop it causes an unwarranted amount of heartache, embarrassment and blushing. Add on continuous teasing from Kaminari and it's an utter train wreck. But it may just end well yet.

Friendly Reminder by arxaris for queenkatsuki   🍋

“So, let me get this straight,” Uraraka said, looking at Bakugou like he was crazy. “You keep a stockpile of nudes on your phone, and you send them to Kirishima when you get jealous?”

“Correct,” Bakugou said through clenched teeth.

“Even when you’re together, like, out in public and stuff?” He nodded, and Uraraka’s eyes grew impossibly wider. “That’s your ‘system’ to deal with you being overly-possessive? Sexting?”

“It’s not sexting!” Bakugou hissed, blushing harder. “They’re just… reminders,” he mumbled the last word.

“Reminders of what, exactly? That you’re insane?”

‘No,' Bakugou thought. 'That I’m the only one he should be fucking looking at.’

Sunkissed by Maplefudge for Ninecloud7   🍋

When Bakugou refuses to put on sunscreen, his friends decide it's a good idea to write on his back.

Nobody wants to tell him that Kaminari had written 'Kirishima was here', with an arrow pointing downwards... not even Kirishima.

4 in the morning by efemerald 🌟

The memory of the underground raid, despite having been over a month ago, was still painfully fresh in Bakugou's mind: Eijirou, head-to-toe in bandages, barely able to move.

Now, with the same moron heading out on a second mission so soon, Bakugou can't help the rising paranoia that this could be their last meeting. And if it's their last meeting, it means it's his last chance to tell Kirishima how he feels, however he possibly can.

What it takes to get you mad by efemerald   🍋

In four years of living together, Bakugou and Kirishima only have three major blow-ups: Once, when Bakugou pushes his friend away; once, when Kirishima brings someone home; and once, when Kirishima almost dies.

One Night of Forever by deviance for arxaris   🍋

“How do you want me?” Kirishima asked, eyes heated as he stared at Bakugou on the bed.

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, and he sprung, snatching a handful of Kirishima's hair and dragging him closer as he knelt up on the bed to kiss him hard. “Want you on your goddamn knees, begging for me,” he hissed against his lips.

Kirishima licked his lips, tongue swiping over Bakugou's. He smirked cheekily. “Going to make me?” He challenged.

Learn You (Bit by Bit) by deviance

Five things Kirishima learns about Bakugou, and one thing Bakugou teaches Kirishima about himself.

Achromatopsia by PurplePersnickety 🌟

They lifted Bakugou up, Eijirou’s breath sliced into his lungs for a moment, and colour splashed across his vision. But the cavalry battle was about to begin. There was no time to consider it, or laugh, or talk, or do anything but meet Bakugou’s red eyes, red framed by yellow-gold-pale hair, and bare his teeth in readiness. Until you meet your soulmate, you only see one colour. When you touch your soulmate for the first time, the true colours of the world appear.

Unless, perhaps, you're colour-blind.

cold in the hands that you left me by poetic_leopard

Bakugou forces his gaze level with Kirishima’s eyes—and he’s never been looked at so softly. Bakugou is not soft. If anything, he’s blood spat on concrete.

[or: it's been a month since bakugou's kidnapping & consecutive rescue, but he's still having nightmares. a series of 5 anxiety-peppered, surreal nights where kirishima's the only thing bakugou can allow himself to hold onto].

King of Cooking by IronicVeghead 🌟

Bakugou Katsuki here, also known as Pro-Hero Ground Zero. I'm writing this blog to get my so-called friends off my back about my recipes. Read them and fuck off. [Blog posts from King of Cooking: Recipe Blog written by Bakugou Katsuki, with edits and additions by his roommate Kirishima Eijirou. Each chapter will be a blog post.]

The Most Opportune Robbery by IronicVeghead

Kirishima was hopeful that he would only be in line for a few minutes, drop off the deposit without any extra charges, and be back at Alpha Office before Bakugou’s patrol was over. With sunflowers. Oh, and smoothies. Hell yes. Suddenly, the doors to the bank burst open with a crash and Kirishima knew this wouldn’t be a routine trip. “EVERYONE ON THE GROUND!”

Hidebound by IronicVeghead

Hidebound (adj.) Oriented toward or confined to the past. Pro-Heroes Ground Zero and Red Riot are co-owners of the hero agency Alpha Office. They share an apartment and a business, but both are too afraid of risking their friendship to try taking the next steps towards a relationship. Bakugou is on the verge of taking that leap when a high-profile mission suddenly goes awry and Kirishima is missing. But Bakugou is getting his partner back, and anyone who gets in his way is going to get their face blown off.

your warmth is all i need by drifting_i for l_moongod

This is how it begins. Kirishima is running for his life.

His feet hit the earth hard and fast, he can’t feel it. They're on him now, he can smell them. Four to the left and six to his right. The sides of his arms grow red starting by the elbows. He curses silently. His throat burns.

get tough, straight up by qactus

Then again, Kirishima never had this Bakugou Katsuki thing under control—probably everyone's known that, too. 

Overworked & Underfucked by Kumikirin   🍋 🌟

“It’s just not manly to leave your bro like this, after knowing he can’t do anything about it, you know?” Kirishima blabbers some kind of bullshit excuse, and the worst part is that it looks like he’s totally convinced of it. “It’s just a— handjob,” he stumbles over the word, the weight of what he’s proposing hitting him all at once, but he doesn’t stop. “—but if you're not into it we can pretend I didn't just say that.”

Bakugou has to restrain himself from saying that he’s very much into it. Like, a lot, really.

a.k.a Kirishima learns the reason behind Bakugou's grumpiest days, and he offers to help because that's what best bros do.

A Kingly Duty by Morpheel   🍋

In hindsight, it really should have been a simple task.

Bakugou would help his shitty dragon through their ‘heat’, take care of his needs in the process, and set out on the road again when the season passed. Should have been a straightforward ordeal that couldn’t take more than a day or two, right?

Who knew there was so much to Draconian anatomy to take into account for.

What just fucking happened? by Dadzawa for ThatFunkyOpossum   🍋

Baku patches up Kiri and there's hella gay feels >:3

The Space Between Them by Dadzawa for Maplefudge

There’s a lot of emotions after Kirishima comes back from the raid. Bakugou and Kirishima have Things To Talk About™.

Engraved in your Mind by Hejter 🌟

Bakugou Katsuki lost his ability to recognize faces, so he didn’t know any of the people who stared at him, but he knew what dread looks like when he sees it, and as he looked around the crowd, every single person had exactly that written all over their face.

He looked down at the guy who was still on the ground, part of his uniform’s shirt burnt, his wounded face covered by his hands and his hair smoking slightly.

Katsuki glanced at his hands and finally realized something.

or

Kacchan is still a stubborn prick while suffering from face blindness. Also, quirk discrimination is a thing.

alternatively-

New quirk, who dis

Snowed In by MarbleAide

After crashing his car in a snow storm, Bakugou is positive he's going to die out in the middle of nowhere. That is, until he's rescued by a (decently attractive, possible murderer) stranger driving by and is brought into a mountain town to heal up and hunker down for the storm.

Bakugou's almost sure he didn't want to freeze to death in his car, but this Hallmark-bullshit-Christmas town is surely making him rethink that (at least the eye candy is good, right?).

Timeout by PurplePersnickety

Eijirou has been quietly in love with his best friend for quite some time now...

Cranky-rishima by PurplePersnickety 🌟

"Oh, I just fell out of bed," Kirishima said, almost airily. He put one hand to the back of his neck. "But I'm good."

Katsuki squinted at him. "No you're not."

Kirishima's expression fell, and he looked down at the hand not on his neck. His fingers were trembling and he closed his hand up into a fist. "No, I'm not. Fuck it."

Part 1 of Nightmares Aren't Explodable

Corn Chip by smol_bird

“So are we gonna address whatever the hell that was?” Mina asks finally, voice loud enough to be heard from next room over. Bakugou totally doesn’t jump at that, fuck you.

“I mean, we summoned a demon,” Deku offers, weakly. Katsuki scoffs again.

“Tell us something we didn’t know, nerd.”

Lie to me by FoolishFortuna 

“What is it now, Deku?”

“I have two more questions.” When he wasn’t immediately told to stuff it, his classmate continued; “Firstly, w-what quirk did you get hit with?” 

“I can’t lie. Dunno how long it’s gonna last, and if you tell anyone I’ll blow your fucking head off your shoulders. Got it?” 

Wherein a fangirl tags Bakugou with her quirk because she ships him with Kirishima. Bakugou fights not to let anything slip -but how long can he last against Kirishima’s adorable smile?

Thank You, Bakugou by SeraphOfTheEndMySuffering

After being told he isn't allowed back home, Kirishima finds himself on his own in the dorms during holiday break. Just as his loneliness drives him to brink of insanity, he receives a few short messages that save both his holiday and his heart.

Blasty McSplode: meet at the train station at 5 Blasty McSplode: bring your sleeping bag and a change of clothes Blasty McSplode: don’t ask questions

'Cause the Dark's Not Taking Prisoners Tonight by imatrisarahtops  🌟

“Are those soba noodles?” Kirishima asked.

Again Bakugou’s only reply was a grunt. He offered no further explanation—not that Kirishima honestly expected one—as though making soba noodles from scratch at half past four in the morning wasn’t at all a bizarre occurrence and made complete and total sense. For a fleeting moment, Kirishima even wondered if maybe he was the odd one here. Besides, he’d already decided it was generally not in his best interest to question these types of things with Bakugou, especially when it was something essentially harmless.

When Kirishima has a nightmare and is unable to fall back asleep, he accepts defeat and decides to study in the common area of the dorms. What he doesn't expect to find is Bakugou, also very much awake, and Kirishima can't help but think that maybe they're both having the same problems with sleeping. If he's worried, it's just because they're friends. (Right?)

Petting Aggression by Cazuki

When Bakugou is struck by a quirk that combines him with a cat, Kirishima is assigned to assist him. What ensues can only be described as adorable and awkward.

A Cast for Your Soul by KTG for Anakito, SipSipSlurp, g0dz1lla, HoneyOnToast   🍋

Six months have passed since Katsuki and Gryuunamin defeated the godling. Since then, Katsuki has moved in with his Fated Mate, one Kirishima Eijirou, and the two are doing quite well, thank you very much.Well, they were, until Eijirou disappears, and Katsuki has to track him down before he's consumed by a wretched, terrible death known as the Kiln.Time's running short, and unfortunately, everyone from a demon to the faerie queen herself is trying to stop him from finding the love of his life.

While this is the sequel to A Cast for Your Heart, it is highly recommended you read Black and Red before beginning this story as well! Updated daily; please be aware of all CWs for all chapters.

Series Part 3 of Where Casts are Forged

Mine by Cazuki

Bakugou Katsuki, the Barbarian King, one day decides to kill a dragon who has been tormenting a village he'd been travelling through. That dragon will be his, if it's the last thing he'll ever do!

The only problem is he doesn't quite anticipate just how fateful his decision will be for him and his soon-to-be companion.

(A small set of vignettes into the adventuring life of a Barbarian King and his Dragon).

In the Dark of the Night by arxaris for queenkatsuki   🍋 🌟

Chanting sounded through the Colosseum. “Red Riot! Red Riot! Red Riot!”

Red Riot?

“Sero,” Bakugou snapped at the Head of his Council, seated a few meters to his right in the Emperor’s box. “What the fuck is a Red Riot?”

Sero nodded his head to the pit and Bakugou followed his gaze, watching as another gladiator walked out of the gate and towards the center. “New gladiator prodigy. He’s only eighteen, but he hasn’t even come close to losing a fight since he started a couple months ago.” Then, Sero smirked. “I think you’re gonna like him.”

What Makes a Man by MermaidLorelei 🌟

He woke covered in ash and dust, barking heavy coughs. The stillness crept under his scales and he opened watering red eyes to absolute destruction. Buildings were pulverized, the oasis dried up, and everywhere around him were charred, smoking remains. He watched the wind stir ash from the bones and suddenly he was retching, desperate to tear the same ash from his throat.

Or,

The desert is a place of harsh realities and hidden wonders.

Through the Cracks by Tiress   🍋

Through a prank gone horribly wrong Kaminari and Sero end up trapped in a closet and end up laying privy to something they were never supposed to see.

I'll Save You Myself by Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism 🌟

After Kirishima saves Bakugou from the League of Villains he can't let go of his hand. He's been holding it for hours, but his fingers are cement. Unbreakable.

Otherwise called: Fuck Eijirou, I'm The One Who Got Kidnapped, Why The Hell Are You Leaking All Over Me? And... Why Does My Heart Feel Like Its Going To Throw-up? By: Bakugou Katsuki

How Goth Am I? by Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism  🍋

Kirishima is a good guy. He's the star athlete at school, helps out the elderly, and always buys his mom's flowers for their birthday.

He does have one secret though.

He's obsessed with the goth boy that catcalls him in the cemetery on his nightly runs.

You Got Me Bewitched, I Am Under Your Spell by Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism   🍋 🌟

“Uh… hello?” Kirishima calls, his deep voice echoing in the room.

The witch doesn’t answer.

Not one to be discouraged by silence, even if that silence is scary as hell, Kirishima steels his nerves and steps over the threshold.

THAT the male notices. He immediately stops grinding, his head tilting to an almost forty five degree angle. It’s almost cat like. It’s absolutely eerie. He hmphs, before he calls out, “Leave.” He grabs a fistful of sour smelling leaves off the plant in front of him and drops them into his bowl.

What?! No way! Kirishima advances further, the doorway creaking under his feet. He won’t take that for an answer. “I need your help?” Frick. Why did that sound like a question when it should have been a statement?

The witch doesn’t look up again, but he swears the male rolls his eyes. “Leave. Now.”

The witch is gorgeous.

A Dragon's Wants by Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism   🍋 🌟

Kirishima wants nothing more to have babies with his strong mate. But as much as he tries, nothing is working.

Is it him? Is he... not right for Katsuki?

Or is there something else at play?

Series

Part 2 of A Dragon's Love

Kitsune!Bakugou by Save1410   🍋

You can't simply ignore a Kitsune in heat if you stumble upon them in the woods now can you?

They Brought us Together by aheartbeatlikehurricanes 🍋

Bakugou was suffering. Like the entire ocean would never be able to quench his thirst suffering and he hated himself, Kirishima, and the entire God damn planet for putting him through it all.

Just A Touch (Too Much) by Grimmseye 🍋

Prompt from the Kink Meme: Kirishima gets oversensitive after using his quirk too much, and somebody (Bakugou) fucks him until he's so overstimulated that he cries

An Explosive Tale of Love and Ships by JustThatObsession 🌟

Legends say that the king once kept a powerful weapon locked away in a tower. Bakugou Katsuki wants that weapon, except, once he gets it he soon realizes that sometimes you don't always get exactly what you bargained for.

My First One And Only by Quirkless-One (BlackBarBooks) 🍋 🌟

When Kirishima accidentally confesses to Bakugo, they are both faced with the fact that they have NO idea how to date.

It Started with a Prank by KTG for SpaceRanger88 🍋 🌟

WHAP!

The slap on his arm was followed by a giggle, and Katsuki shoved the person away. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Teniki Michi laughed as he stumbled backward, arms crossed over his gut. He was a tall, lanky man with short black hair and brilliant green eyes. His quirk was pretty unusual: He could swap people’s genders temporarily. The swap usually resulted in the affected person’s quirk changing slightly, too, which made it harder for villains to escape, since they didn’t have time to adjust to the changes.

“S-sorry, boss! I had to, though! Chargebolt dared me!”

“He fucking what?” he snarled.

“Dared me to change the gender of the first person who walked in!”

Katsuki was about two seconds from blowing the idiot up when his words sank in and he realized he was shorter than he used to be. He lifted his hand. The fingers were slim and feminine, still covered in callouses and a little knotted from the hard work he’d put into training, but they were smaller than usual.

He was smaller than usual.

He was a goddamn girl!

Obsidian by PullingAllMighters 🌟

Bakugou Katsuki's a dangerous guy, even without his unnatural, fae-given magic. Used and scorned as evil everywhere he goes for having powers he didn't ask for, Bakugou wanders the world as a rogue nova, hunting beasts and criminals for survival. It's too bad that the real villains didn't take it well that he's not joining their side. But now they've framed it so he's a mass murderer, making all the other magicked humans like him look bad. Hunted and ever the loner, Bakugou meets Kirishima, a dragon who's also alone and outcast, who vows to protect him until they can either clear his name, or get far enough away that it doesn't matter.

Not that Bakugou needs him. Bakugou Katsuki doesn't need anyone, especially not some broken dragon who can't even fly.

Roses and Marigolds by let_me_wander

Bakugou kind of hates his mom for volunteering him to help out at his Aunt Inko's flower shop on the weekends. He already has a full time job, his weekend is supposed to be for sleeping, exercising, and eating, that's it.

What's even worse is there's this smiley, flirty red-haired guy who comes in every week and always orders the same dozen roses and always includes the weirdest notes.

Bakugou isn't intrigued, not in the slightest.

AKA a flower shop AU with a twist.

The Trials and Tribulations of an Author's Muse by let_me_wander

Dating Bakugou Katsuki was the best thing to ever happen to Kirishima Eijirou. The omega was a handful--grumpy, temperamental, and needy, but also fiery and passionate. Typical of a writer, but not so typical for an omega. But Kirishima was not your typical alpha either. Between the two of them, they make it work.

AKA Kirishima's insecurities start to come to light, but Bakugou crushes them in typical Bakugou fashion. Oh, and they spend their first heat together.

Part 2 of The Novelist AU

Spice Season by Shippeh 🍋

Sequel to Heartbeat Thunder!

This subject had been their first real argument, so many years ago. Being bonded had felt so easy at first. It came naturally, and like a couple of besotted honeymooners they’d become too confident that nothing could go wrong.

And then Eijirou had signed an autograph for a wobbly four-year old who couldn’t stop reaching for his bright hair, and had cheekily laughed afterwards, “I want like, six of them.”

Part 2 of Heartbeat Thunder

The Weight of Your Hand by kamin 🌟

That night, to the citizens, the explosions were a jolt of fear at every blast, but to the heroes and the students of UA, they were punches and swings, fierce fighting and loud strength. The explosions were the pulse of the battle, and the power of a boy that would never back down.

One after another, explosions set a chorus through the shuddering city.

And then, suddenly—the explosions stopped.

(In which Bakugou’s kidnapping goes a little differently, and just a few seconds could change so much.)

Left Hip, Right Hip, Put Your Back Into It by Sacramental_Wine   🍋

It wouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone to know that the competitive spirit Bakugou was infected with carried over into the bedroom.

Northwest of Babylon by Sacramental_Wine   🍋

Bakugou didn’t know what compelled him to start working in fucking marble but here he was, staring at the big chunk of rock in his studio with a scowl. Sure, there had been a deal on the material but he never fucking worked in it before. He was more the type to make statues in wood or softer materials.

But here he fucking was, staring at this damned chunk of rock.

We Go Carrying On For Hours by Sacramental_Wine

Friendship was complicated when your best friend was someone you were struggling not to fall for.

You Ain't Got to Twitter Shit by Sacramental_Wine   🍋

See, he loved his boyfriend. Kirishima Eijirou was fucking sunshine in a person’s body who always remembered the kind of chips that Bakugou liked and snuggled up with him when it was too fucking cold because his huge ass body was a fucking space heater and he ate ass like a champion. But they’d been together for three years now and they hadn’t taken that last little leap in their sex life.

Our Lips Set the Sun by Sacramental_Wine   🍋 🌟

When he would look at the little mark on the underside of his left arm at night, he would know that somewhere out there someone else had the exact same shape in the exact same place on their body. But he didn’t try to imagine them. He didn’t imagine a face or a name or a personality. When his friends would talk about it he wouldn’t contribute.

Because in his heart he had a feeling that his soulmate would outclass every expectation he could possibly have.

The Best Medicine by chezka

He couldn't stop thinking about it.

The sound of it, breathy and wild, and the sight that accompanied it, warm and relaxed - Kirishima couldn't get it out of his head. It was stuck at the forefront of his mind, whenever he closed his eyes or let his thoughts wander, capturing him, cutting off his breaths.

He wanted to see it again.

Or, Kirishima sees Bakugou laughing, and his world shakes with it.

If We Met At Midnight by Sacramental_Wine

Kirishima had grown up among the hushed whispers in his small town about the tree that hung over the far edge like creeping fingers. At the base, mushrooms danced in a circle, wide and thick and waxy, an open door, his mother said, to a world distant from their own.

love letters by cutiekirishima

Bakugou finished reading, and his eyebrows drew together. He flipped the note over, as if he was looking for something, then turned around and scanned the room. Kirishima immediately avoided eye contact, pretending to suddenly be interested in his desk, his heart thrumming in his chest. A moment later, Bakugou clicked his tongue and turned back around.

Kirishima was left in complete confusion. Why didn’t Bakugou call him out? Why didn’t he react? Surely he’d say something, surely. This wasn’t the reaction Kirishima was expecting, at all.

And that’s when it hit him.

Kirishima had forgotten to sign the note.

Kirishima's failed confession attempt leads to him sending a series of love letters to Bakugou, then one day he gets one back in return.

bloodred (how to train your viking) by cutiekirishima

The dragon was the colour of fire. Scales that caught the light and shone red-orange-yellow under the blazing heat. The dragon's wound was open, its life source poisoning the beautiful colour of the transparent waves with red. Crimson, carmine red that painted the dragon's lower body, that painted the ever-so-perfect sand, staining all a dark grinning red. The viking grinned and released his axe from around his waist, holding it up to the dragon's neck with complete and utter pride. 

Bakugou Katsuki is a Viking, and the leader and to-be chief of the Bakugou Clan. But his life changes when he comes in contact with a legendary Bloodflame, who was known as Kirishima Eijirou.

Life's a Drag(on) by PurplePersnickety 🌟

"Sparky," Katsuki turned and laid a hand on Kaminari's shoulder. "I need you to know that the position of Best Man at our wedding is between you and a fucking dragon, so start psyching yourself up to fight for it."

"A what?" Kaminari repeated faintly.

Bakugou Katsuki currently experiences three major problems with his life:

1. He helped a dragon with a broken leg once and now it keeps showing up outside his house all the time. 2. He has a huge hopeless crush on the guy with the red hair and the freaky teeth who just moved into the village. 3. He has no idea what to do about either of the above.

Insight by cherryredriots 🌟

While taking down a big-time gang, Katsuki faces a villain with a quirk that allows him to look at a person and see the one thing they love most in the world. For Katsuki, that's Eijirou.

Just a Parting Kiss by cherryredriots for lemxnbitxh 🌟

Eijirou and Katsuki's first kiss isn't something either of them were prepared for.

Hell’s Kitchen by arxaris for Diesel2311 🌟 🍋

Apparently bad things really did come in threes, Bakugou thought wryly, as the firefighter closed the distance between them.

Tall, tan, and jacked as hell, he was a strong contender for the single hottest person Bakugou had ever seen in his life. He was covered in soot and sweat that contoured his ridiculous muscles, making them look even more defined, and his clinging black tank top didn’t do much to hide the rest of him, either. His strong cheekbones and jaw had smears of black on them too, and Bakugou had the absurd thought that he wanted to lick them clean.

Bakugou didn’t think it was possible, but he felt himself turning even redder. He would barely have been able to talk to someone as attractive as him on a good day, and he was about to have to explain to him that he’d tried to burn down his fucking house because he was being petty on Twitter.

Super.

heart stains on the carpet by cityboys

"She's saying we're dating," Katsuki says, trying to put as much disgust into the word as possible. "Me. Willingly being around your freeloading ass—"

"Ah." Katsuki is definitely developing a special kind of intuition for when Kirishima's about to dish out bullshit—because he feels it now, watching the guy do that thing where he shrugs and smiles in an attempt to appear innocent. "Katsuki's a little shy about this sort of thing, you know, and we weren’t going to say anything."

For effect, he ends with an apologetic smile.

Summer that year brings Kirishima Eijirou to Katsuki's front door.

The Extra's Club by Sonamae 🌟

Toru is a bright ray of sunshine! At least she pretends to be. Right up until Bakugo Katsuki catches her crying in the kitchen.

astrum by popcap 🌟

If his soulmate doesn’t like him, they can get fucked. He doesn’t need to find his other half. He’s enough on his own. Sometimes he’s too much on his own.

Life goes on. Katsuki doesn’t talk to his mother about soulmates anymore.

Big Red Riding Wolf by FoolishFortuna for Bujor

Bakugou grumbled as he rose to his feet, dusting off the ass of his trousers. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, before bending to stretch. There was no telling how far he’d get before the thing came for him - he’d basically spread his scent around the whole of its territory as he’d been marking his exit.

Katsuki grinned. He knew it was gonna seem like a challenge to the beast.

Because it was.

He stalked through into the creature’s neck of the woods.

you got me swimming in clouds by littlelionvanz 🌟

Google search: How do you delete a text from someone else's phone?

Google: no search results found.

Or, It's Kirishima Eijirou's last few months at Yuuei. He's got some soul searching to do.

Drabbles and Oneshots by arxaris 🍋

My drabble and oneshot collection; summary to be edited as more are added. (Rating)

1. Quirk play (E) 2. Ripped jeans (E) 3. Companion piece to In the Dark of the Night; Reincarnation AU with a visit to the Colosseum (T) 4. Movie night (T) 5. DJ!Bakugou, EDM trash!Kirishima (M for drugs) (my fic 'Remedy' is a continuation of this drabble into a proper oneshot) 6. Divorce nightmare angst (T; unhappy ending) 7. Accidental drunk confessions (T) 8. Quiet confessions (T)

Rumors (Keep My Name Out Your Mouth) by deviance

Rumors are rarely true and even rarer are they kind. Still, all it takes is a hint of credibility, just a moment of belief, for a rumor to spread like wildfire, destroying friendships and leaving those hurt left behind to try and make something of the ashes.

When you need me by sunflowerstorm

Rule 72A was for ensuring that pro heroes didn’t suffer from the occasionally extreme mental load of their work by allowing emergency responders to assign a 24hour watch over heroes they believed ‘at risk’.

When this rule is applied to Bakugo after a run in with a villain with a Nightmare quirk, he is not at all pleased, all he wanted was to go home by himself and try and forget everything that'd happened. But turns out when that rule means having Kirishima with him, it is exactly what he needs.

Favourite Everything by firesparks 🌟

"You two are being absurd. Flirting through some weird prank war. It’s obvious you two are so in love with each other. You’re practically already in a relationship, for fuck’s sake."

Soulmate AU in which the first thought crossing your soulmate's mind when they see you for the first time is written somewhere on your skin.

Biting Down by deviance 🍋

Bakugou grinned, curling his hand around the base of Kirishima's tail, digging his nails into the hard scales and watching Kirishima's eyes flare with delight.

"After we eat," Bakugou rumbled lowly, leaning closer, "you're going to fuck me until I can't walk. Got it?"

Smoke, Spice, and Everything Nice by let_me_wander 🌟 🍋

Bakugou Katsuki is a half-incubus and knows how to play the game: to find the perfect target, enchant them, and finally feed off of them. As long as certain conditions are met, no one can refuse him. Until Kirishima Eijirou.

Looks like Bakugou will have to seduce him the old fashioned way.

Bakugou is a Big Softie and Loves His Students: An Essay by minaashidoismywife 🌟

Bakugou stares at the door in front of him, nostalgia filling his mind. He can still remember how it felt to stand in front of this very door for the first time 26 years ago. It’s a strange feeling, knowing Aizawa won’t be standing at the desk when he walks through the door. Knowing that desk now belongs to him.

No Secrets to Success by kingdoms 🌟

“Hey!” Kirishima says brightly, stepping sideways to be directly in the guy’s path. “I know you!”

“Fuck off,” the guy snarls, pushing past him and barely slowing down.

Kirishima is forced to start his first semester at UA two months late. Somehow he still meets Bakugou Katsuki, makes the most of those two months, and gains a tutor, a best friend, and an exciting way to scandalize his new peers. Canon AU where Kirishima and Bakugou become friends before Kirishima meets the rest of Class 1-A.

Part 1 of Better Late than Never

All That Glitters Is Gold by Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism 🌟 🍋

Kirishima has been enamoured with the boy next door since he met him deep in the woods by his house as a kid.

Other than the fact that Bakugou never leaves the forest, won't voice his name, is nimble like a cat, and sometimes disappears into thin air, he's a normal kid just like Kiri!

Oh... and he's goregous.

And he just keeps getting prettier as time goes on.

It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) by writingboom 🍋

The red silhouette raised a hand and shot it down, and a low, loud bass chord rang through the auditorium. The lights came on and Bakugo forgot how to breathe.

All he could focus on was the guy’s huge, awful, bright red spiked hair.

Holy shit.

dont tell me what i need by TuesdayTerrible 🍋

It's involuntary the way his knees seem to buckle and give out and throw him onto the ground. It takes him a moment to realize he's hyperventilating, tears running frustratingly down his cheeks as he rubs his clothed erection slowly against the carpet.

Or the one where Bakugou Katsuki is presenting as a fucking omega, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

Remedy by arxaris 🍋 🌟

DJ Ground Zero’s fame was soaring higher than ever. Bakugou himself, though, was falling, struggling to stay afloat.

The darkness of the year was interrupted by a single light, though. A blinding red one, dancing and laughing in the front row of every Osaka show. The city became his anchor, that smile his lifeline. He was a ray of hope, a promise that things could get better. One day.

Maybe Bakugou was going crazy.

Maybe he was falling in love.

At times, it felt like both.

Hot Sauce v Rock by PurplePersnickety

Kirishima derails Bakugou's plans on their latest (not) date.

Boiling Point by magicallee 🌟

Kirishima Eijirou has a very busy life. He's a full time student and a vigilante. That doesn't leave a lot of room for breathing, but with new villains coming every day, someone has to put themselves on the line to keep the city safe.

(Basically: it's a KiriBaku vigilante AU)

Your Biggest Fan by averagepoet 🌟

Kirishima Eijirou found out he was quirkless at the age of five, so he decided he couldn't help people by being a hero, he would help them by being a doctor!

He's still a hero fanboy, though, and he gets probably the biggest surprise of his life when he meets his favorite hero - Ground Zero, the Explosion Hero.

Burden of Proof by kytrin, Mslead 🌟

All it took was one bad day. Eijiro Kirishima was slotted to be one of UA's finest detectives before he was framed for a crime he didn't commit. Now he was used to people keeping him at arms length even after he scraped the remains of his reputation back together as a private investigator. When an old serial killer returns from the past, he finds himself in the center of a case darker and more dangerous than he could have ever anticipated. Teaming up with an angry homicide detective with ties to the killer, together they are forced to rely on one another as they face old and new enemies alike rising from the shadows

Bluetooth in Red by Shippeh

They’d been at the mall, the first time it happened. The train ride had been excruciatingly long, delayed and hot and agonizing, and before they’d even wandered past the food court, Bakugou’s phone had completely died. “Fuck,” he’d cursed, thumb jammed against the power button to no avail. With an exaggerated sigh he shoved the device back into his pocket.

Heart Made For Taking Flight by timetoboldlygo 🌟

"You seem like you have a good soul, Bakugou," Kirishima grinned, acting like that was something sensible people said.

"That's the worst reason to save someone's life I've ever heard," Katsuki scoffed. "And I don't have a good soul." He'd know better than anyone.

-

Katsuki trusted things he could see, things he could feel. Things he could back up with his own power. Souls were not included, so he didn't necessarily believe they existed. Really, he didn't even think about them, or hearts, or true love, or any of that bullshit. He didn't know or care if it existed and he didn't need to know, either.

Slowly but surely, one Kirishima Eijirou saves his life, remains by his side, and changes his mind.

(Un)Tangled by itswritteninblood for quirkless_loser 🌟

"This is the story of my goddamn demise."

Eijirou has dreamt of leaving his tower and breaking his curse since the day his parents exiled him, but only an explosive intruder has what it takes to finally get him out the door.

No, I Don’t Come Here Often. In Fact, I’m Never Coming Here Again. by itswritteninblood

Katsuki had been against this shit from the beginning, and now, sitting across from sunshine himself, he knew why.

Speed dating. What could go wrong?

Rip Tide by Emers_Writes 🌟

“You i-idiot, you can’t just do a flip off the board. You’ll end up with face scars like Kiri!” Ashio attempts to yell, but it's interrupted by her fits of laughter. Sero’s no better, clutching his stomach as he paddles out to the next wave off balance.

“Hey! I’ll have you know my scars look cool! They’re little lightning bolts!” Denki, ungracefully, crawls onto his surfboard during his remark. He lifts up a leg and points adamantly, showing off his well known box jelly scars.

“How about you guys stop bitching and surf.” Katsuki calls.

or

Bakusquad enters a local surf competition and feelings get messy along the way.

Night Lights and Confessions by IcyHotHeart 🌟

“Fuck, I already am soft for you. I just tucked you in and set up everything I know you need. Shit, please don’t realize it was me. I’ll pretend it’s Kaminari.”

or, Eijirou falls asleep and Katsuki reveals just how whipped he is.

let me love you by arxaris 🍋 🌟

Kirishima’s liked Bakugou for years and years and never thought he’d even have a chance. Bakugou could easily become a runway model if he ever decided that’s what he wanted, while Kirishima is... well, just Kirishima.

There’s no denying he’s strong, but not in the graceful and beautiful way that Bakugou is. He’s got rolls no matter what he does, more body hair than he could ever hope to manage, and thighs that seem to constantly stretch his jeans at the seams no matter how big he buys them.

Yet, somehow within the span of the last hour, Kirishima’s gone from calling Bakugou ‘bro’ in their shared kitchen to lying underneath him in bed with Bakugou’s lean thigh pressed confidently between his thick ones.

So, yeah, forgive Kirishima if he’s freaking out a bit.

Burger Kings by plantegg 🌟

Bakugou does something illegal. Kirishima finds out and makes him take him out to dinner to keep him quiet.

It Will Find You Here by arxaris 🍋 🌟

Katsuki’s life was falling apart. He had always known what he wanted. He had his life and career completely planned out. He’d accounted for every detail and every potential obstacle. Except for one. He was not prepared in the slightest to be six years into his carefully constructed life plan, extremely successful, and suddenly so goddamned miserable that he couldn’t make it through a day of work.

He was fine. He really just needed some fucking time, space, and air to breathe. So, he loaded up his backpack and left Japan, hoping that a bit of time off and travel might help him get over this bullshit and on with the plan. However, a few weeks into his trip he met a meddlesome redhead in the Thai islands who threatened to disrupt his universe in the worst ways imaginable: by making him fall in love, and by breaking the news that Katsuki couldn’t outrun himself.

I Was Doing Fine Without You by QueenPotatos  🍋

They were taught to fight, to protect, to become heroes. They were never taught how to love.

- They haven't spoken in three years. There is so much left to say.

Studded by KTG   🍋

Katsuki's second gender pisses him off. He's just presented as an omega, and if he doesn't get studded--turned into an alpha--before the end of his first heat, he's gonna be an omega for-fucking-ever. Problem is, he needs a willing omega to stud him, and his best friend, Kirishima Eijirou, presented as an alpha.

Or, at least, he smells like one.

All Katsuki knows is that he needs to get studded, and fucking soon.

a tenderness you can't let go by punchmonk

When Katsuki is fifteen, Kirishima Eijirou hands him an orange with a bright smile and zero expectations. It is all downhill from there.

help me get out of my head by popcap  🌟

“Don’t let go."

"Deal."

Burning by mr_todoroki 🌟

Bakugou Katsuki was sent on a mission to eliminate a dragon threatening the citizens in the kingdom. Instead he meets Kirishima Eijirou, an obnoxiously useless traveller who has something he's hiding.

Out of Control by arxaris   🍋 🌟

The story of how Bakugou Katsuki accidentally got a new quirk and a new boyfriend in exchange for his favorite sex toy and the security deposit on his apartment.

Heartbeat Thunder by Shippeh   🍋

Kirishima tries not to remember his first rut, and he's taking care to ensure it never happens again.

In which: Kirishima is an extremely aggressive Alpha by nature but insists on suppressing everything, and Bakugou is an Omega wildly confident in his secondary gender.

Wonderwall by Maplefudge for QueenPotatos  🍋

“You can always move in with Kaminari and me,” Kirishima says in a soft voice. “It would be like back in high school.”

“No,” Bakugou says, and the word pierces right at Kirishima’s chest. “That shit we did back in school, that wasn’t permanent. We’re pro heroes now, Ei. I can’t keep being weak, not like back then.”

aka

A lot of things change after graduation, and Kirishima finds himself dealing with the aftermath.

Sonder by Maplefudge

A collection of snippets surrounding Bakugou and Kirishima's "totally platonic" relationship from the perspective of Class 1-A.

The Dragon's Keep by Treeclimbr

It's fantasy au time. Bakugou's searching for a certain blacksmith when he meets a dragon pup. The punk steals from him, and leads him to a cave that's guarded by a bigger dragon, a whole lot of secrets, and a redhead who seems to be allergic to shirts.

Fire in the Storm by Vagabond for Shippeh 🍋 🌟

Bakugo Katsuki is a stubborn bastard and does what you should never do: splits the party. He gets caught in a rainstorm and seeks shelter in a cave which yields an interesting discovery in the form of a shape-changing stranger.

Or: Kirishima is a dragon, and Bakugo seeks shelter in his lair.

If you want to... by Treeclimbr 🍋 🌟

Bakugou interrupts Kirishima's "alone time" in the showers. Things get awkward, Kirishima is oblivious, and our boys dance around each other a little while they figure things out.

Sun Sets Red by Shippeh 🍋

Eijirou Kirishima considered himself lucky. He'd been accepted to a good college, he was picking up new friends like flies to sugar, and the random lottery had paired him with a really cool roommate, Izuku.

Unfortunately, the new roommate seemed to come unconditionally with a very bizarre asshole of a dude.

done with having dreams (the thing that i believe) by futurehearts

"Oh my god," Ashido yells. "Look, you guys, the number one hero is -"

"Marry me."

It's New Year's Eve at Bakugou and Kirishima's place. A few things happen.

Part 1 of there's you in everything I do (pro heroes AU)

you're only relevant until you get older (they're gonna talk about me over and over) by futurehearts 🍋

Five times Ground Zero revealed his softer side to the media, and one time his big-mouth husband did it for him.

Part 2 of there's you in everything I do (pro heroes AU)

Love Notes by PurplePersnickety

There was a note on Eijirou's desk. It was small, post-it sized, and as Eijirou approached, he could see it had been typed. None of his classmates seemed to have noticed it, because he knew that if they had, there would already be people reading it. 1A was... nosy.

Eijirou picked it up. There were two words written on it.

You rock

Give Me A Chance by Jacksonofabitch 🌟

Bakugou Katsuki just wanted to go on a date.

Kirishima Eijirou just wants what's best for everyone.

Bittersweet by Jacksonofabitch

Sometimes things don't go the way you expect them to

And sometimes that's okay

take your time with me by Shadow_sensei 🍋

And then Katsuki steps away, breaking away from Eijirou’s body, as if he’s been shocked, because it’s so much, all at once, and it’s overwhelming and his mind is drifting and it’s almost terrifying, to be so fast to lose his composure, just from a simple touch. Is it a sign of weakness, that he can be pulled into Eijirou’s control so quickly?

No, thinks Katsuki. It’s a sign of trust.

As the water flows hot and steady over their backs, Katsuki learns that it's okay to let Eijirou take over his heart.

oh, the places you'll go by a box of rocks (abundleoftwigs)

Bakugou Katsuki is hopelessly, helplessly, and obviously in love with Kirishima Eijirou.

Too bad the only person who hasn't figured that out yet seems to be Bakugou himself.

(A retrospective on Bakugou and Kirishima's relationship as seen through the eyes of a childhood friend)

Part 1 of oh, the places you'll go

out there things can happen by a box of rocks (abundleoftwigs)

It takes Bakugou Katsuki months to figure out exactly what Kirishima Eijirou means to him.

Or: Bakugou learns love like he's going through the stages of grief.

Part 2 of oh, the places you'll go

How to Make Bakugou Katsuki a Decent Human Being by keptein

A how-to by Kirishima Eijirou.

(Kirishima decides to make Bakugou the guy Kirishima knows he can be. Everything else snowballs from there.)

Slow to Start (But Quick to Burn) by mousapelli 🍋 🌟

Bakugou is loud, abrasive, and way too strong to be a "good" omega, and he doesn't give half a damn if that's what everybody else thinks. The good news is that Kirishima is 100% into him just the way he is. The bad news is he might be 150% into Kirishima.

Part 1 of Omega Bakugou/Alpha Kirishima Verse

Partners by disastergays 🌟

In a small village protected from the outside world exists a sort of sanctuary for humans and monsters alike. It has always been said that to every human, there is a monster that shared their soul. Two halves of the same whole. Finding one's other half was a sort of coming of age ceremony, and as children were encouraged to seek out their other half.

Bakugou was the only one that couldn't form a bond with any monster, no matter how hard he tried. Rage boiled beneath the surface as Bakugou shunned not only the village, but the monsters and humans that had come to call it home; running away from the protection of the mountains.

10 years passed since then, and the world-renowned hunter, The King of Beasts, was called to a farming village to deal with a dangerous Riot Dragon.

The meeting soon to follow would change his life forever.

'cause i love you for infinity by multiclassmaps

Kirishima agrees to help Tokoyami summon a spirit. Instead, he ends up summoning Bakugou- a person that feels impossibly familiar. - Bakugou seemed ethereal. Almost as if he'd disappear if Kirishima got too close, just as the memory of Kirishima's dreams slipped further away the more he tried to remember them

Blood Stains Red by SummerBummin 🌟

Kirishima was hunched over the sink, his back to Bakugou. Water ran in a steady stream from the faucet, the silver metal flecked with blotches of red. Kirishima looked up at the sound of the door opening. His eyes locked with Bakugou's through the mirror in front of him and his mouth fell open. It was full of blood.

"Kirishima?" Bakugou's headphones were shoved off his ears and his book bag slipped off his shoulder, falling onto the bathroom floor with a thump.

"Oh, hi Bakugou." Kirishima turned to greet him over his shoulder, a wavering, dumbass smile on his dumb fucking face, his bloody fucking face.

His lips were red and shiny as a cherry, lines of red ran down his chin like a tiger's stripes, and his teeth, god his teeth. They were coated in blood and clumps of who the fuck knows what.

Kirishima's trademark had always been the color red. The bright hue of his hair was something Bakugou sought out everyday, but he never imagined seeing Kirishima red like this, never like this.

i'm going to the forest to kick my own ass by WannabeMarySue 🌟

“What the fuck,” he mutters, quietly but with feeling.

He stomps over and picks it up. Emotional Intelligence for Dummies glares up at him in garish yellow font.

“What the fuck,” he repeats, louder and with more feeling.

(or, todoroki tries to play a prank, but jokes on him, because bakugou is fueled by complex emotions like Anger and Winning).

common evenings by kiroiimye

There’s a handful of things Tenya thinks is reasonable, but there is one rule he will very much enforce that his classmates definitely do not agree with:

No public PDA should be shown and noises should be kept to a minimum even in private.

In which Iida Tenya is a slight cockblock to Kirishima and Bakugou.

Boys Are Stupid by deviance 🌟

“Sorry, bro, I'm not going to make it to our study session tonight."

“Why?”

“Ah,” Kirishima grinned almost shyly, “I've got a date.”

Bakugou froze, chest feeling like he'd just been pierced with a lance.

“A...date,” Bakugou repeated, admittedly dumbstruck.

Kirishima smiled. “Yeah, so I'll see you later,” Kirishima said, waving before leaving the room.

So this is what heartbreak felt like. He hated it.

Perfect Fit by deviance 🌟

Kirishima had broken up with him with just about every cliche in the book. It wasn't him, it was Kirishima. He wanted them to still be friends. Blah blah blah. Filler, really, as far as Bakugou was concerned. And sure, Kirishima probably meant all those things, but Bakugou hadn't wanted to hear it, considering he'd been too focused on the sound of his heart breaking.

This was why he didn't let people in.

Be Patient by deviance 🌟

Kaminari groaned. “Why are you two like this?” He demanded, pointing at where Bakugou was stretched out over the couch with his feet in Kirishima's lap. “Why don't you just date already?”

Kirishima sighed. “One day, guys. We will one day.”

Up in Arms by Tiress 🍋

In which Bakugou gets hit by and strange quirk and Kirishima would do anything to help out a friend in need and then some.

euphoria by Dreaming_of_Fairys 🍋 

Bakugou interrupts Kirishima's lazy evening by straddling him, and Kirishima, like always, is more than happy to please him. 

Under the stars by popinjayuploads 🍋

Bakugou is obviously stressed out, but refuses to talk about it. Kirishima decides that a weekend camping trip is the perfect thing to relax him. So he tosses a mattress in the bed of his truck and they head out.

Kirishima soon finds out Bakugou needs more than a hike to work out his stress. Luckily, he's more than willing to help out.

Fucking Feelings by Equinurmae 🌟

Bakugou isn't great with feelings. Midoriya is slightly better, but the two of them have always had an unusual relationship - even more so when Bakugou bursts into Midoriya's room one night with something important to say. (Hint: he's gay.)

Tell Me I'm Yours by arxaris 🍋 🌟

Bakugou was going a little crazy. He could grudgingly admit that it was at least in part his own fault; moving in with his best friend maybe hadn’t been the best idea. At first, it sounded great. The rent would be cheaper, grocery shopping and cooking for two would be way more convenient, and it would be easier for the two of them to hang out. The only thing was, Bakugou forgot to consider how the joys of moving in with his aforementioned best friend might be dampened by the fact that he was madly in love with him.

Alternatively: Kirishima Eijirou is a goddamn tease and there's no way he doesn't know what he's doing.

Payback, Baby by arxaris 🍋 🌟

Kirishima stared down at the ‘Call Ended’ notification on his phone, cheeks red and eyes wide with disbelief. He hadn’t exactly meant to hang up on his boyfriend - especially since he’d been the one to call Katsuki in the first place - but he’d panicked after hearing his greeting.

‘Hey, baby, I’ll be home soon.’

Kirishima’s mind was racing. He had a few questions, here. Like, first of all, since when was he baby? Katsuki was always baby, that’s how this worked. Also, since when did Katsuki even use pet names with him at all? Besides Shitty Hair, which didn’t really count. Lastly, and probably most importantly, why the fuck did he want to call him back and make him say it again?

Part 2 of tell me i'm yours

Kneel by deviance  🍋  🌟

“Bakugou?”

Bakugou shuffled on his feet, hovering over Kirishima and looking at the ground with stormy eyes. He glanced up to glare at Kirishima, a silent dare to call him out on his odd behavior no doubt. Kirishima forced himself not to tense. Whatever Bakugou wanted, he was about to show him and Kirishima had to get this right. Bakugou was all about showing and not telling.

Kirishima nearly bit his tongue to keep in a squawk of surprise when Bakugou suddenly dropped to his knees next to him, shuffling forward until he could press his forehead to his thigh and hide his face against Kirishima's leg. Kirishima opened his mouth, questions on the tip of his tongue, and he barely managed to catch them before they could be given voice. Bakugou was trembling minutely, his entire frame so tense his muscles were twitching under Kirishima's gaze.

“Just. Don't say anything,” Bakugou muttered, hands clenching in his lap tightly. “Please,” he whispered, a short choked sound.

ragtag by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)

Kirishima Eijirou had enough to deal with before almost every pro hero went missing. But after an unthinkable disaster throws society into chaos, Class 1-A reunites and tries to figure out what went wrong and what exactly they're supposed to do next.

Or...Deku is missing, the pro heroes are gone, but Kirishima is trying his best.

The Lost Continent by cattchi, paglykos 🍋 🌟    TW (non descriptive mentions of past rape)

Kirishima Eijirou is from a noble family of pirate exterminators. Bakugou Katsuki is rising as one of the most fearsome pirates on the seas.

When a trade goes awry, Kirishima finds himself cast among Bakugou's crew, having to learn the ropes and the sea as they chase after All Might's infamous hidden treasure.

Written on Your Face by GooglyMooglies 🍋

They train together, sometimes.

Of Ghosts and other Inaccurate Things by chezka 🌟

A week before the sports festival found Bakugou walking back home in the late afternoon, sunset light making his scowl even more menacing and drawing a long shadow right in front of him.

Someone was walking by his side.

There was no second shadow on the floor beside his own to confirm this, but if he kept his focus on the street ahead and carefully avoided trying to look to his left, he could consistently make out black hair swishing in the wind and strong arms leading to hands sunk in pants’ pockets. The edges were blurry, but there was definitely someone at his side.

Hold me 'til I scream for air to breathe by CallingForHeaven 🍋

His hands weren’t shaking because he could have died, not really.

They were shaking because Kirishima could have died.

it's ideal by newamsterdam  🌟

“Er,” Midoriya says, resting a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder, “You probably shouldn’t mind about Kacchan, too much. He mostly keeps to himself, but he’s got one of the strongest powers the guardians have ever seen, and…”Midoriya continues to extoll the other guardian’s virtues for the next few minutes. Kirishima’s seeing stars all the while, long after the magic’s glow has faded.When Kirishima joins an order of magical guardians, he's hoping to discover the truth about himself. But first, he discovers Bakugou Katsuki.

little are the things we learn by newamsterdam 🌟

Almost half an hour has passed, and Kirishima and Bakugou still haven’t come back. Bakugou may be fine running on fumes, and could probably blast his way through the second part of the exam on pure willpower and stubbornness. But Kirishima should probably eat, and relax for at least a bit.

Kaminari is such a good friend. He hopes Kirishima appreciates him properly. He gets to his feet and wanders out into the hall, looking for a glimpse of Bakugou or Kirishima.

He sees— well. It’s more than a glimpse. And at first, Kaminari doesn’t quite believe it.

Five people who are let in on Yuuei's worst-kept secret, and one person who always knew it.

The Ice Cream Tub Of Solace by just_a_couple_of_thoughts 🍋

Kirishima is having doubts about his ability to make it as a hero and thus ends up eating ice cream at 2 in the morning. Thankfully Bakugou is set on making him see otherwise.

Basically Kirishima and Bakugou sharing ice cream in the middle of the night which inevitably leads to something else.

5 + 1 by CallingForHeaven 🍋

The five times Kirishima made the first move + the one time Bakugou blew his mind.

Like Knives by All_My_Characters_Are_Dead

Bakugou was disappointed in him. Bakugou thought he was weak, thought he was useless. Bakugou knew he’d broken, and Bakugou was mad at him for it.

fatal flaws by poetic_leopard

Bakugou made for one intimidating tutor, but Kirishima was eager to learn. [I will tutor you until you bleed. Got it?]

Broomsticks by ComiclzWrites 🍋 🌟

Local witch Bakugo Katsuki doesn't have many friends and he'd like to keep it that way but the shop that he gets all his ingredients from has a new delivery boy that might just work his way into Bakugo's fiery little heart.

AKA: Bakugo Katuski is a witch, Kirishima Eijirou is his delivery boy, and this is the story of how they fell in love.

A Cast for Your Heart by KTG for Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism, Dadzawa, Fanficismything TW (Mildly Dubious Consent)  🍋 🌟

The windshield wipers screeched as they arched over the glass. The car was dinging, a light on the dash flashing. The engine was still running, so Katsuki quickly reached out and turned the key to shut it off. No telling what he’d damaged after sliding off the road and into the snow bank. The last thing he needed was for the gas line to catch fire.

He grumbled and leaned back, glad for his thermal coat, but cursing his parents out for wanting to spend the holidays in the asscrack middle of nowhere.

And now he was gonna freeze to death in his car.

Fucking wonderful.

morpheus by chonideno

5 times they fell asleep around each other and 1 time they didn't

or their step-by-step progress to waking up to each other

Six Page Spread by indigonow 🌟

They're 22 and Bakugou's finally gotten control over his public image. Think more..."bad boy" and less "explosive asshole".

Kirishima is weak (though he always has been).

and my heart went boom by Slumber

Bakugou tears his gaze away, but only manages to rake it down the rest of Kirishima's body-- to narrow hips and a glimmer of tanned skin where the shirt had ridden up, acid-washed jeans showing off thick, strong thighs that tightened a little whenever he needed to push himself further back beneath the car, the squeak of wheels and the clang of metal on metal filling the garage.

The loud complaint that had been bubbling up in his throat dies down, just a little. In fact, his throat feels a little dry. Maybe even parched.

Bakugou develops a crush on a hot mechanic. He's not sure how to deal with this.

domestic life was never quite my style by Slumber 🌟

Five times Bakugou cooked for Kirishima, and one time Kirishima cooked for Bakugou, as told by their classmates

Broken Bridges by DeathBelle 🍋 🌟

After years of working abroad, Kirishima moves back to Japan to open his own agency, and things seem to be going well. There’s plenty of work, he gains popularity quickly, and it’s a relief to be back in his home country. Everything is perfect, until he runs into Bakugou on the scene of a villain attack.

Bakugou had been his best friend at U.A., but the two of them haven’t spoken for years. That had been Bakugou’s decision, not Kirishima’s, and he's still a little hurt by it. Regardless, it’s easy to put that aside in favor of rekindling his friendship with Bakugou. They fall back into a routine and it’s as if nothing has changed; including Kirishima’s old feelings for his best friend. When a new pair of villains starts picking off heroes one by one, Kirishima feels that he and Bakugou are the best heroes to take the case. All the extra time they spend together hunting villains is great, except Kirishima feels like his heart is being ripped out every time Bakugou looks at him.

Chitchat and Pencil Pushers by beebuzz 🍋

Kirishima did not believe in love at first sight. Absolutely not. It was a ridiculous notion. He did, however, believe in holy shit, he’s hot at first sight.

Kirishima starts a new office job and unfortunately discovers that he may just have a big crush on the worst person possible

the laundry room by dellsey

Aizawa is visibly unhappy. “You didn’t know there was a laundry room in the basement? How did you manage before, then?”

Everyone starts talking at the same time, and as Aizawa picks up what is said, he starts feeling a very diverse array of emotions, the most intense one being frustration, because, for God’s sake, these are supposed to be the students of the best high school in the country and they couldn’t figure out there were washing machines in the dorm building, but also exasperation when he hears ‘dry cleaner’ (too much money) and ‘mom’ (spoiled, spoiled children), and absolute dread when he hears someone say ‘you’re supposed to wash clothes that often?!’. He sighs. Sometimes, he forgets they’re just kids.

7 Dates by rashiisa

Since the beginning of third year, Kirishima starts going out with the first person who confesses to him on Monday, then dumping them on Sunday with the argument that a week should be enough to fall in love. Bakugou has never raised the curiosity to date anybody. He decides to give it a try, since Kirishima - his best friend - can’t say no.

It’s a matter of self-discovery entwining them both in a uncertainty of what will be left of his friendship by the end of the week, with nothing to hold onto but each other’s hand.

Go out with me.

it's pouring out here by shizuumi151

With phone, money, and keys in his pocket, Kirishima wandered around the city for an age. With his legs on auto-pilot his mind wandered too. To the new movie that peppered the streets in posters and trailers, a new move he wanted to practise for another basketball play, wondering about how the current arcs for his favourite manga would turn out in the next issue of Jump.

And, of course, he thought about how many of those things he could see and do with Bakugou.

what he thinks he knows by lovelylittlefruit

Bakugou Katsuki believes he knows Kirishima Eijirou better than anyone in their class, he does have a crush on him after all- But there’s somethings that Kirishima keeps underwraps.

Shattered by ToshiChan

The hardest of rocks can break, the strongest crystal can shatter.

Still, nobody thought that Kirishima of all people, could be hurt in such a way.

An Obvious Patch by SweetScentences for ComparedFever

In which Kirishima is hurt, Bakugo is stressed, and everything is going to be okay.

Part 1 of Adventures of the Almost Agency

how they got detention for a week by eggstasy

This is getting serious. Kaminari likes Bakugou well enough, as another individual in his class who is generally more capable than most of them and hasn’t yet tried to murder him personally, but that’s about where his good will ends. Especially where his best dudefriend is concerned (aside from Sero, but Sero isn’t a common sense deviant like Kirishima tends to be. Kirishima needs the supervision).

Perihelion by tauontauoff

Bakugou was a comet, blazing out of reach. Kirishima knew he was stupidly lucky that his furious trajectory went by close enough that his fingertips got to graze the cowl of fire. It was enough.

During Christmas Class 1A and 1B spend a laid-back week learning about extreme environment hero work in the Alps. Kirishima was used to keeping part of his feelings for Bakugou hidden, and had every intention of keeping it that way, but things don't always go according to plan.

cotton candy hands by chonideno for gabzillaz, Siij

Studying to become a hero requires knowing how to take care of yourself. Sometimes you might need help on the way so if your crush offers to do your hair for you or to give you a well-deserved back rub, it'd be stupid to say no.

A series of soft vignettes in which a love-struck Kirishima and a touch-starved Bakugou care for each other and it's definitely not making their hearts jump through hoops, they’re never this close to kissing, no, they're totally best friends bro

head first, heart first by faeriedisaster

The last thing Kirishima heard before his vision blacked out was the distinct sound of Bakugou’s voice and the snap-boom of his quirk.

When he opened his eyes, he was in a bed, assumably in Recovery Girl’s office - though she was nowhere to be found - with a parched throat, heavy limbs, and a blazing headache. He struggled to sit up, and there was a pair of hands pushing him back against the pillow in the next instant.

“Lay the fuck down.” - another bakushima cant sleep fic but this time instead of just bakugou, they both suffer

You Have a New Admirer! by Esselle for Ellessey 🌟 🍋

'His profile states that his name is Bakugou Katsuki, he's twenty-two and still in college. He likes hiking in the mountains, old cars, and advanced trigonometry. His first date would ideally involve little to no small talk, and very spicy food.

For some reason there is one person, apparently, who admires all that about him.'

When Katsuki is convinced (read: bribed) to try out a friend's glitchy dating app, he's expecting the whole experience to be a resounding failure. Instead he ends up meeting Kirishima, who turns out to be the perfect combination of sexy, sweet, and way too freakin' earnest, all rolled into one easy-to-fall-for package.

one to ten by crunchrapsupreme 🌟

Kirishima attempts to climb the ladder of success and weasel his way into Bakugou Katsuki's explosive little heart.

Step one? He has to get to level ten.

sparks by helwolves 🌟 🍋

“I’m just really happy,” Eijirou says. He sighs shakily and then all but collapses onto Katsuki, burying his face against the vulnerable spot at the base of his throat. “Ah, you smell so good,” he says, trailing off into a soft growl. “They say that means you’ll be really compatible with your rider, you know... Is it the same for men?”Alternately: "they can't show us Bakugou riding a dragon that might be Kirishima and NOT expect me to want him to fuck it."

SeriesPart 1 of sparks, etc.

Blood of my Hand by PurplePersnickety 🌟

Eijirou is a half dragon, stuck in a cage, unable to shift from his human form. Then a bad-tempered barbarian arrives on the scene, Eijirou makes a blood pact he'll probably regret, and he learns that finding a missing friend of his might just tie into the fate of the world. Katsuki is a mountain clan outcast, and if he ever wants to return then he must meet the demands of the Queen and bring back the head of a dragon. Then Katsuki meets the most irritating lizard, makes a blood pact he'll probably regret, and learns that- wait? The world? Oh fuck.

Tonight, We're the Sea by idratherhaveyou

Kirishima goes to a quiet seaside town to take care of his grandmother after she has a bad fall. There he meets Bakugou Katsuki and falls in love.

Series

Part 1 of Tonight, We're the Sea

quote love unquote by newamsterdam 🌟

Sero nods. “It’s the chance of a lifetime, really,” he says. “We want you to date Bakugou, for the sake of his reputation with the press. Some public appearances, a few ‘candid’ photos. For at least a couple of months.”

“Bakugou sent you to ask me to date him?” Kirishima asks, baffled.

“Of course not. We, his people, are asking you to date him. He’s going to have to get on board, if he wants his career to survive. And in the bargain, Riot will get all sorts of publicity, because their lyricist will be dating one of the industry’s hottest stars. A win for everyone.”

When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.

Talk Too Much by QuirklessWonder (SouthernSmartAss)

“You talk too fucking much - I’ve also been your best fucking friend for years, chill the fuck out,” Bakugou said. He grabbed another piece of bread, glancing at Kirishima from under his eyelashes. “Also, I fucking agreed to this didn’t I? Clearly I like you too, you dumbass.”

Kirishima managed to swallow down the bread, and then he grinned widely at Bakugou. “You like me?”

“God, you are a dumbass,” Bakugou said, snorting again. “Fucking obviously I like you.”

A Dragon's Hoard by chezka 🌟

There was a lizard in Kirishima’s room.

A scaley, clawed, fanged lizard. A fifty centimeters long, red, winged lizard.

A dragon, there was a dragon in the middle of the floor of Kirishima’s room.

Bakugou blinked slowly, a hand curled around the door’s handle and one foot still out in the hallways. He looked at the dragon, the dragon looked back at him.

“What the fuck,” Bakugou whispered.

Harder to Breathe by Ellieb3an 🌟

Bakugo and Kirishima encounter a villain with a quirk that amplifies other quirks, and Kirishima's hardening quirk is a prime target

Part 1 of Harder to Breathe

cultivating something so divine by redriotinggg 🌟

"The only people that get to work here are those who can keep up with me. And you’re going to have to prove that you’re one of those people. You understand me?”

Kirishima nods and finds that he can’t stop the smirk that comes on his face. He was never good at backing down to a challenge. It’s terrifying and exciting all at once. “Yes, sir.”

(Bakugou's a world famous vet and Kirishima is his humble, gay new employee.)

BAKUGOU'S COMPETITIVE NONSENSE, VOLUMES ONE THROUGH THREE byxenosaurus

Purely by chance, Bakugou kisses Kirishima for the first time on the same night Todoroki confesses to Midoriya.

This means war.

take your broken wings and fly by bwyn 🌟

Rifts—man, he hates these things. They look misty, but are dry; they look hot, but feel cold as a winter chill. They’re the exact opposite of what his eyes assume. It’s like some sort of sensory illusion. To top it all off, if he thinks about them too long, the space behind his eyes starts to throb. Not worth it.

The hawk takes off without prompting the closer Eijirou gets. Goosebumps prickle across his skin at the waft of cool air.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” grunts Eijirou as his skin goes hard around his hands.

An AU in which Eijirou spends his time sealing tears between his world and the next, until a man comes tumbling out.

Part 1 of Tales from the Rift

when a rock and a hard place love each other very much... by shizuumi151

"What's bothering you, Kaminari?"

It was so ready to leap off the tip of his tongue. He was aching to confess, get everything off his chest, and forget any of this ever happened.

So much. So very much, Kaminari wanted to say. I don't even know where to begin. It's a shitshow and I'm in the crossfire. Save me, please, I beg of you.

Kaminari ends up as the middleman and can't do anything about it. But for the sake of courage, true love, and his sanity, he has to.

The Beauty of a Beast by starofjems  🌟

Once upon a time a lonely beast lived in a manor deep in the forest. He dreamed of the day his true love appeared to break his curse... When a beauty finally appears in his life, it is not quite as he imagined. For who could have thought a beauty would be more of a beast.

Or

The beauty and the beast AU nobody asked for but here it is.

Show Me Your Fire by STOVE

“There's a dragon in the basement.”

Katsuki's guild is in charge of investigating a dark mage’s mansion, only to find a whole circus of captured creatures and Beings kept in poor conditions. A severely neglected dragon is amongst the victims, just hanging on by a thread.

A journey of recovery and survivors healing each other.

parted, and never parted by Authoress 🌟

Before going into battle, it’s only proper to make an offering to the god of war. But Kirishima’s run out of things to give.

the color red by ayadormouse 🍋

"Bakugou...his quirk would be something loud and quick, like an explosion. Maybe he would breathe fire or send hadouken or maybe he would send beams of light that sparkle and sizzle an opponent’s flesh. Said fire-breather was currently drinking pure whipped cream and syrup, and scowling down at his latest drawing."

Roses are red and they taste like shit by Unbreakable_Red_Riot

Katsuki was really fucking sick of the smell of flowers.

Radio Silence by doop_doop

Kirishima is hit by a quirk that leaves him fully aware, but completely unable to move.

His friends make it a little bit better.

Shitty Hair and Shitty Nightmares by honest_pebble

"Barely anyone ever worried about Katsuki; he had never known if it was because he refused to let them, or if they thought he didn’t need that, because he was so strong, or… maybe they just didn’t give enough shits. But Kirishima did. Kirishima, with his huge, crazily nice and caring personality, that seemed to, for some dumb reason, care about Katsuki."

the easy parts by chonideno 🌟

Kirishima made it out alive but his body is covered in wounds that won't heal without leaving marks behind. He hides them away from the sight of others, away from his own, and he hates every part of it. Bakugou watches him reduce his own character to a parody of what it used to be, and he can't stand it.

Or how Bakugou and Kirishima learn to deal with these scars, with themselves, with each other.

Tododeku

My Neighbor Todoroki (Grow Your Fire Next To Me) by uttertrashdumpster

They were lonely 4-year-olds, joined through the space between their two windows, their love for all things All Might, and absentee fathers with fire quirks: Shouchan and Izukun. At least this was until the blinds on Shouto's windows drew shut- and never opened again.

Now, reunited at UA as Todoroki and Midoriya, they finally have a chance to rekindle the flames of their friendship. The only problem: Midoriya has to do it before Todoroki fully locks his heart, and the rest of himself, behind an ice cage.

sore must be the storm by Pouler (poulerslashes)

“We were in a fight,” he said. “Yes,” Todoroki returned. “And now we’re trapped?” “Yes.” “Under a building.” “So it would seem.”

Two friends share time and words together as they try to keep a dark situation from turning into a hopeless one.

Part 1 of the thing with feathers

Sweater Weather by crispykrimi 🌟

Midoriya Izuku has a hoodie that he wears all the time in the dorms, and Shouto is suddenly and irreversibly gay. A collection of domestic moments of Shouto settling in to dorm life with his classmates.

waterlogged (red blue, green) by lein

Izuku has never been one to curse but the only way to describe himself as his mother hugs him goodbye that morning, is royally fucked.

He’s really, truly glad no one in their class has a mind-reading quirk because from the minute his feet touched warm sand, his mind has been screaming in tune to the same famous classical overtures Tenya listens to when they study together. Occasionally, the music pauses just long enough for his brain to point out observations about Shouto that make Izuku want to stick his head under the waves and just breathe in.

Everything Except by Pouler (poulerslashes) 🍋  TW (sex pollen can be a little dubcon but this is not intended to be dubcon)

"In retrospect, Midoriya probably should’ve realized the moment they were enveloped in a glittering pink cloud that something was about to go Very Wrong."

After an encounter with a unique villain threatens to change the nature of their partnership, Midoriya must find a way to get things back to normal between him and Todoroki. That is, if he's certain that getting 'back to normal' is what he really wants...

Riddles in the Heart by PitViperOfDoom

The law is clear: whoever correctly answers three riddles will marry the prince, while all who fail are to be executed. The people live in fear as more challengers try and fail, and the throne grows bloodier with every passing year. But a young prince, nameless and in exile from his home, believes there may be more to this brutal challenge than meets the eye.

Of course, there's only one way to find out: ring the gong, and take the trial.

Summer Stars by PitViperOfDoom

It's been judged safe to send the students of UA home to their families for the first three weeks of summer, much to the relief of everyone whose name isn't Todoroki Shouto. Luckily, Midoriya has a solution for him, and Midoriya Inko has a lot of love to give.

don't care if the world knows by aknightley (anything aknightley writes is amazing check them out!) 🌟

Five times someone noticed Todoroki Shouto's feelings, and one time he noticed someone else's feelings.

Midoriya is laughing at something Uraraka and Asui are saying, waving his expressive hands around as he talks. He’s wearing a shirt that exposes most of his arms, long and tanned, and Shouto finds himself wondering absently if there are freckles along them that are usually hidden, if they match the ones on his face.

Yaoyorozu coughs, and Shouto’s gaze jerks back to her, startled.

i won't just buy you a rose by aknightley 🌟

Shouto decides to visit his mother for the first time in years, and decides to stop at a flower shop along the way.

He freezes in place, and before he can move again someone is bustling through the door behind the counter, all messy hair and wide green eyes. It’s a teenager, a little shorter than Shouto but probably the same age. He’s got a wide smile and there’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek, which instantly draws Shouto’s attention. His fingers itch to rub it off.

Part 1 of flowers in our eyes

a room of light and music by bwyn 🌟

Izuku stares at Iida, but his mind has already snapped back to the beautiful man like an elastic band, and he finds himself asking rather dreamily, “What words would you use to describe red and white hair? Candy canes seem cheap.”

There’s a beat of silence, before Iida makes a strangled sound similar to a snort.

Izuku is in an artistic rut when he meets Todoroki Shouto.

count your blessings, not your flaws by PitViperOfDoom

Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

my heart was filled with gold by bwyn 🌟

Shouto doesn’t have the luxury of passing out. He’s awake every second, from the moment he’s thrown into the rift, to colliding with hard uneven earth, to rolling over and seeing the gaping maw of the breach melt away. He blinks, and there’s no waking up.

This isn’t a nightmare, it’s his death—and he comes to terms with it the same moment he thinks it.

An AU in which Shouto learns what it takes to survive in another world with the help of a foolishly brave stranger.

Part 2 of Tales from the Rift   

To Be With You by SummerBummin

Everything was so warm and Izuku felt like he could melt at the slightest indication. His heart was soaring along with his laughter, shoulders shaking in Todoroki’s embrace. Todoroki’s dry chuckles mixed with Izuku’s giddy giggles and a blinding light washed over Izuku’s vision and everything whited out.

The light faded out and they opened their eyes again, vision still misty from laughter induced tears.

The whole room was silent, the absence of their laughter making it seem like someone had shoved cotton in their ears.

Shinsou was staring at them, eyes wide and panicked. Oh right, they should probably be doing the exercise, instead of giggling like a psychopath. Looks like they got distracted again. That was a little embarrassing. They looked to the side to see empty space. Where was-

“Oh my god,” someone whispered- Uraraka it sounded like. “You guys fused!”

aka Tododeku fusion au because I do what I want. The universe is exactly the same in every way except fusion is a thing. Endeavor is a dick wad and hates fusion so things go south pretty quick.

trigger warning for panic/anxiety attacks and mentions of previous abuse

Confusion by bortzy

Todoroki has just figured out he's gay. Kirishima is the only openly gay person he knows, so he goes to him for advice on what to do about his feelings. They end up bonding over their hopeless crushes on Midoriya and Bakugou, but people start to get the wrong idea.

A beacon in the dark by NohaIjiachi

“My thanks.” He says, smiling back. “What is your name, boy?”

“I’m Izuku! Izuku Midoriya, sir!” The boy replies, excited, looking up at him. And Toshinori looks into the unmoving washed out green, into milky white pupils visible behind the mess curly hair, and realizes.

The boy is blind.

The boy that he distinctly saw dodge a series of fairly quick attacks, light on his feet and clearly used to some kind of training, the boy that had thrown him the bottle at the perfect height and perfect speed, the boy that has easily collected his spilled groceries and orderly put them back into the little plastic bag—

The boy. Is blind.

Burn Your Wings by oWhiteKiwibird (TW: Graphic descriptions of abuse.)

Izuku inherited his parents’ quirks, but he swore he’d never use his fire.

He knows first hand how—bright, burning, scorching, painful, terrifying, destructive—it is, after all, and Izuku promised (promised his crying mother, promised his burning self, promised the laughing memory of his father) that he’d become a hero who stops that kind of despair.

Even if he has to burn his own wings to do so.

But when someone with the exact same problems, fears, and pain shows up... Izuku can't help but try to heal them. And in doing so, he himself may be healed too.

[angrylizardjacket]

ask your destiny to dance [5] {Roger Taylor}

A/N: Light smut.

[masterpost]

The night Freddie first plays with Smile in her pub, Ash thinks her heart might genuinely burst with pride, buzzing behind the bar, beaming at the patrons who she usually just fixes with her winning, customer service smile. Maureen keeps giving knowing glances at the way Ash is all but singing along with the band, bright-eyed, taking any free moment she got to watch them perform.

“So you know Freddie?” After the show, Brian’s sitting in the back of Roger’s van, his guitar already packed away, smiling at Ash who was still grinning with pride.

“‘course I do, he’s the one who suggested you guys to me.” She’s filled with so much overwhelming joy that she can’t help but laugh a little, just basking in the moment, still marvelling at how talented her best friend is.

“He’s the Freddie who suggested us?” Brian asked, eyebrows raised, before turning to the new bass player, a soft spoken man named John, who had a smile like sunshine. “Ash’s mate suggested to her we play here a few months ago.” Brian explained, to which John nodded in understanding, and Ash made a noise of confirmation. After a moment of silence, the back door came crashing open and Ash jumped as the door hit the side of the milk crate she’d been sitting on, and Freddie himself joins them, with Roger’s arm around his shoulder.

“You did good mate, sang almost all the right words and everything.” Roger crowed, smiling at the boys by the van before turning. “Didn’t he, Pocket Rocket?” He asked, and Ash stood, reaching out for Freddie’s hand to pull him out of Roger’s grip and wrap him up in a hug.

“Freds, that was awesome!” She gushed, and he picked her up, spinning her around.

“You really think so?” He asked, pulling back, grinning at her starry-eyed expression, and she nods emphatically, moving to hug him again, letting him rest his chin on the top of her head, both practically glowing with pride.

“Rog, did you know Freddie’s the one who introduced us to Rocket?” Brian asks as the drummer joined the others by the van, pulling out a cigarette.

“Figures, I knew they were mates.” He says it so casually, lighting the cigarette and pocketing the lighter, before he finally acknowledges Brian’s confused expression. “She’s got a photo of them together, would be weird if she didn’t know him.” He says, like it’s answer enough, and Ash goes completely still. 

“What?” Brian asks with a half laugh, and Ash is glad that she’s mostly hidden from view by Freddie, but then he pulls back from their hug, his eyebrows raised in amusement. He knows exactly which photo Roger’s talking about, it’s the Polaroid she has pinned up on the cork board in her room, taken at a uni event at the end of the previous year, up along with some other pictures of friends and family. He also knows it’s the only photo she has of the two of them.

“In my wallet.” Ash, quickly stepping  thinking on her feet, speaks with a clipped tone, heart in her throat. She steps around Freddie’s knowing look to face at the others, Brian squinting at Roger, who had frozen, cigarette hanging from his lips. “I left it out here once and he found it.” After a beat, she sees Roger relax and breathe out a cloud of smoke. “’s why I don’t bring my wallet anymore.” That part’s only partially a lie, she never brought her wallet to begin with, never had a need for it.

“In your wallet? Darling, that’s so sweet.” Freddie cooed, teasingly, and though Ash’s expression was bright, she’d never wanted to smack him more in her life; they both knew he knew she was lying.

“Of course!” The smile she wore didn’t reach her eyes when she turned to look at him. “How else would I be able to say,” and she mimed pulling out her wallet, holding it up, displaying it, “did you know my best friend is in a band?” And Freddie burst out laughing at that, though it’s when she hears snickers from the rest of the boys that she finally lets herself relax. 

Roger shoots her a small smile when she turns back, and she rolls her eyes at him. At first, Ash had been surprised that Roger wanted to keep it quiet, but then he’d said something offhand about how Brian would probably deck him if he learned Roger put one of their regular gigs in jeopardy. As for Ash, she didn’t want her boss knowing she’d hooked up with the member of one of their most profitable bands, so she was happy to be discrete.

After a few more minutes of small talk with the band, she heads back in to the bar, and takes a moment to breathe. She loses herself in her work, forgetting the momentary slip-up, pouring drinks and pandering to the tipsy customers, and she finds herself actually enjoying the rest of her night. That is, until she comes out of the bathroom to find Roger waiting for her.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He starts, and Ash rolls her eyes at him, breezing past, back to the bar. There’s not a lot of people left, Maureen’s got it under control, and so Ash grabs a cloth to start wiping down the tables.

“How’d you even remember the photo?” She asked, barely paying him any attention as she worked. He sat at the table she was wiping, and after a beat in which he didn’t answer, she paused in her movement, looking up at him. He just shrugged at her. “You know Freddie definitely knows something’s up.” She told him, eyes narrowed.

“It’s not my fault you apparently only own one photo of your best friend.” Roger snorted, and Ash looked up, glaring at him, suddenly paranoid of being overheard.

“Who is where exactly?” Ash asked, and Roger rolled his eyes.

“The rest of the band have gone home, don’t worry.” He told her, and Ash’s anger deflated at that, dropping her gaze.

“No, it’s your fault for mentioning the photo at all.” She snapped, moving on to the next table. “You could have just said no to Brian when he asked if you knew about me and Freddie.” And when he followed her to the next table, she gave up, moving to throw her cloth over the bar.

“I said I’m sorry, what more do you want from me?” He threw his hands in exasperation, leaning on the bar as she picked up the bin and headed for the back door. If they were going to have this conversation, she wasn’t going to let it happen in the bar.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Roger.” She scoffed, not even looking at him as she tipped the bar’s bin into the skip outside, practically fuming by now.

“Oh, that’s rich,” he spat, following it with a humourless laugh, and Ash whirled around, dropping the bin and stalking up to him where he was leaning against his van, her expression furious.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snarled, the two now toe-to-toe. They were so close he could practically feel the anger radiating off of her. 

“It means I wasn’t the only one in that bedroom.” He said, voice low and dangerous, but his words just made Ash confused.

“But you’re the only one who’s managed to fuck up; I’m the one who cleaned up your mess! See, this is why you’re an-” 

“Don’t you dare call me an idiot.” He warned, and Ash gave him a sharp, malice laced smile.

“Make me-” She doesn’t even get the first syllable of the taunting nickname out, because Roger crashes his lips to hers. They’re both acting out of instinct, rough and angry, her hands in his hair, tugging as a response when he bites her bottom lip. After a moment, she pulls back, both panting as they glare at each other. Without a word, Ash jumps, wrapping her legs around his waist, and he catches her, nails digging into her thighs enough to sting as he flips the two of them so her back is pressed to the side of his van.

“Are we really doing this again? Right after we almost got busted?” He asked, giving her thigh a squeeze, more out of habit than anything else.

“After you almost got us busted?” Ash asked, raising a single eyebrow. Roger just glares in response, choosing to kiss her again instead of shooting back an angry reply. After a few more moments where Roger presses against her, lips against hers hungry and desperate, Ash pushes him away, finding her feet before she goes crashing to the ground.

“I gotta do my job.” It sounds like the thought’s just occurred to her, breathless, leaning against the van to catch her breath.

“So we’re... not doing this?” Roger asked, frowning in his sudden confusion. Smoothing out her wrinkled shirt, Ash smirks up at him.

“Oh, no, we’re definitely doing this, I just need to clock out for the night.” And she heads back inside. Roger, for his part, leaned his forehead against the van, replaying everything that had happened, trying to figure out how it had led here, again, not that he was complaining.

“This,” the moment the back door of the pub opens, he can hear her voice, and when he looks over, she’s gesturing between the two of them, expression strangely determined, “is not a thing. We’re not a thing.” She’s adamant, and Roger rolls his eyes, opening the driver’s side door to the van.

“I don’t care what you call it.” He responded with an eye roll, climbing in the van, waiting for her to climb in the passenger side door so he could drive them both back to her place. 

There’s a tension in the air the moment she closes her door, and they sit for a moment, his hands on the wheel and keys in the ignition, but the van remains quiet. Then, she’s leaning over and kissing him, climbing over the centre console to sit in his lap in the driver’s seat, his hands on her ass, her hands on his shoulders grinning as he groans against her lips when she grinds against him.

It’s not like last time, it’s angry and desperate, both furious at the other for almost being caught out earlier that night, a little mad at the fact that they’re sleeping together again, despite the fact that they were thoroughly enjoying every minute. They bruise, and bite, and hold each other a little too tight, a little too rough, and when Ash feels his teeth against her shoulder where he’s muffling a moan, she’s pretty sure it’s the best night she’s had in a very long time.

“I’m not kidding,” she finds herself saying, sitting up as she reaches into her drawer to pull out her cigarettes, coming down off the high of endorphins. The both of them are panting, “this isn’t going to happen again.” And she tries to sound firm about it, but when she looks over, Roger’s smirking up at her where he’s still sprawled out, heart beating erratically in his chest.

“Sure,” he doesn’t sound convinced, and holds out his hand for the cigarette after she’s taken a draft.

“I’m serious, I don’t do casual anymore!” She told him, and she waves off his response before he even says it. “I don’t do casual with the same person anymore.” She corrects herself, and Roger laughs, low and warm.

“I think you do casual very well,” and he reaches over to give her thigh a squeeze before passing back the cigarette. Time drifts by lazily in the silence, Ash taking a few puffs before she passes the cigarette back, fiddling with her fingers.

“We can fuck whoever we want.” She speaks, but it doesn’t sound like it’s entirely directed at him, actually, it sounds more like a nervous question, and Roger frowns.

“Yeah, of course.” He agrees, and Ash takes a deep breath. On the exhale, he looks up at her, and sees her quiet, reserved smile. It’s... it’s not something he’s seen before, she’s usually so sure of herself, it reminds him a little of their last conversation, and he hears himself asking about it before he can even register the full thought. “Why don’t you do casual?” 

Ash pulls out another cigarette and lights it up, expression dark as she focuses on the task. She’s closing off again, he can tell, and he’s not sure why, but his heart hurts just a little.

“Bad experiences.” She makes a point to enunciate around the cigarette, avoiding looking at him altogether.

“Do you think I’m a bad experience.” He asks it honestly, curious as to what her answer will be.

“‘re you seeing someone?” She asks frankly, and he answers that he’s not. “You gonna fuck whoever you want, and let me do the same?” 

“Of course.” He half laughs, and finally she looks at him, eyes narrowed, analysing. Taking another long draft, she hums thoughtfully.

“Then I don’t know.” After another drag, her lips twist into a sad little smile that makes Roger frown. “I haven’t fucked around like that with someone half-decent before.” Which only makes him frown harder.

“Who have you fucked around with?” He scoffs, and Ash raises her eyebrows, laughing a little, surprise written all over her features.

“I never claimed to have great taste.” And when she says it, Roger presses a hand to his heart, mock offended. The gesture has her laughing, bright and genuine, the sound brightening up the whole room, and Roger grins in return.

“Well I think you’ve got a great taste.” He purrs, propping himself up to reach across her to stub out his cigarette in the ash tray on her bedside table. This, of course, only causes her to laugh harder, blush rising on her cheeks as his hand find’s it’s way to her inner thigh, not letting her miss the double meaning in his words as his fingers drifted higher.

He presses a kiss to her jaw as she finishes off her cigarette, not looking at him for fear that she would burst out laughing again, and start coughing for the smoke. He starts kissing his way down her chest when she stubs out the cigarette, and when he feels her fingers card through his hair, he looks up. She’s smiling at him, warm, amused and affectionate, and something in his chest tightens a bit. He grins back, and moves lower.

The next morning, she warns him to forget everything in her room, but he knows he’s not going to forget the mug with the little cat face on it that she passes him, full of tea, or the fluffy blue bathrobe she’s wrapped around herself, and later, when they’re both crammed in a shower in the dorm’s shared bathroom, trying to be quiet and failing miserably, he knows the mandarin scent of her shampoo is one that he won’t forget soon.

Things between them are... well, they’re easier after that. Whenever the band comes to play at her pub, she greets them all with a warm smile, hugging each of them in greeting, even Roger, getting them all drinks, and cheering them on throughout the night. Sometimes Roger goes home with other girls, and there’s a weird mix of feelings in Ash’s heart, a relief that he’d kept his promise, that they could keep seeing other people, but part of her, well, if she was being honest, she was a little jealous.

There’s anxiety in her heart the night a pretty boy flirts with her, and she realises she wants to take him home, but she’s still got a lingering fear of Roger’s reaction, not because of Roger himself, but from boys in the past. The band isn’t playing that night, and she decides to throw caution to the wind. The boy diligently waits until she’s dismissed for the night, and then he laces his fingers with hers as they leave the pub. He’s soft and kind, knows what he’s doing, mostly, which is nice, and it’s a fun night. Ash lets herself have fun.

But sometimes they do go home together, not super often, once, maybe twice a month, he’ll catch her during her break before the others join them, and he risks kissing her in the light of the street lamp, and something in her chest eases. Or he catches her eye when he’s playing, and she’s drying glasses behind the bar, and she grins at him, giving him a wink, and he looks away, laughing. 

“You guys are playing really well.” She grins when the band comes up to collect drinks, and Roger’s suppressing a smile, trying not to look at her, and the others just enjoy the praise.

The rest of the band hasn’t caught on, which they’re both grateful for, though Freddie has his suspicions. Maureen knows, but has been sworn to secrecy, and so Ash lets herself feel safe. Being with Roger is easy, it’s fun, he makes her laugh, and he eases the anxiety that clutches at her chest, not that she’d ever tell him that. 

“What’s he doing here?” Brian’s voice is low where he’s tuning his guitar, nodding over to a man who’d just entered the bar, looking out of place. “You think he’s some executive or something?” He asked, a little hopeful, and Roger snorted.

“He’s wearing tweed, so I doubt it.” The man looks too old to be part of the crowd they usually draw in, but he doesn’t even spare them a passing glance. Instead, he makes a beeline for the bar where Ash is hanging up champagne flutes.

“Ashley, is that you?” His voice is smooth as honey, and the moment he speaks, Ash drops the glass she’s holding. It shatters, but she’s frozen, face blank, looking at the newcomer. The hairs on the back of Roger’s neck stand up the moment the man leans casually on the bar, like he owns the place, and he’s watching the exchange like a hawk.

“I’m working.” Is all Ash can say, still frozen in place. The man looks old enough to be her father.

“I can see that; you look lovely, by the way.” He tells her, and there’s something soft in his voice, the way he speaks to her, so familiar and intimate, and Ash unfreezes. The surprise comes when she ducks her head, smiling bashfully.

“Yeah, I, um, can I get you anything?” She asks, flushing, ducking quickly to find a dustpan and sweep up the broken glass. He orders a pint, and sits himself at the bar, letting Ash get on with her job, but his very presence flusters her, a state Roger had never seen her in at work, since she as usually so calm and confident. 

None of the rest of the band seems to notice him, and they start soon enough, but the man’s there all night, waiting quietly and nursing his drinks, never straying too far from the bar. Roger sees the leering gaze flicks over the young girls in the crowd, and knows instinctually that Ash can’t see it. She doesn’t look to Roger all night, but she keeps glancing over at the man, surprisingly nervous, and when the third set ends and she’s due to take her break, she says something to him, and the two of them make their way out to the car park, the man taking her hand once she’s out from behind the bar.

Roger feels ill. Not because Ash is paying someone else attention, they’ve both been very clear about getting with other people, but something about the man sets him on edge.

[part 6]

the ususal suspects: @deakydickfanpage @hollyissuchahoe  @laueecakee @smittyjaws @crystalshines2909 @i-am-sarah @legendsaresooftenwarnings @2ptonpt @benhardy24-7 @maiilovely @mickey-yr-a-goner @butter-times @heyyouitskay @tired-eyes-fairy-lights​ @yepimthatperson @missieluvsmurder @ironqueen98 @ceruleanrainblues ​ @banhbao329 ​ @fantasticchaoticwho ​ @ko-kitty @seven-seas-of-hi

[em-be-lievable]

Hello!! Whereith thou get thee cool punked clothing? Ith would like to dress as cool as thou

Y’all gotta stop enabling me with my special interests- I WILL write you novels.

This is gonna be a whole thing, so sit your butt down and prepare to listen to me yell for ten years. 

This question is literally different depending on what I’m wearing- but my clothes fall into three schools of fashion which I’ll refer to ‘Statement makers’ ‘Essentials’ and ‘Accents.’ 

THE STATEMENT MAKERS: 

These are the pieces that make strangers want to start arguments that they can’t win on the streets with me XD I have 4 in total: Though each one is a work in process. “Where does get one of these fine pieces?” You may be asking yourself? “Surely there is a hot topic-esque store that must provide such items!” The long and short is no, there isn’t. You gotta make these yourself.

So how you do that?

Step one: Start with a base.I like to keep these relatively cheap bc A: I’m broke, and B: This way I can put a little more money into ‘accents’ (which I’ll explain more about later) First you need that base- a good garment that will hold up to your daily life and tolerate the abuse you’re about to put it through. What I do is go to my local thrift store, or good will (not salvation army. F*ck the salvation army) and get one second hand. The vest and the leather jacket above ran me a total of 20$ instead of the 100$ you’d waste if you bought it from Big Business (and also f*ck them too for killing the environment and the economy) Be heckin’ thrifty and crafty with it- you’re essentially purchasing your canvas so don’t be afraid to scrounge. 

Step two: Gather your men.And by men, I mean the sh!t you’re gonna adhere to this beast. A good place for pins/patches? Etsy. Theres literally millions of options you can get from small businesses and independent artists all over the world and they’re usually pretty cheap: Ranging anywhere from 1$ (plus shipping) to 15$ for big back pieces. Literally every single patch that wasn’t gifted or I didn’t make was purchased via etsy. Which brings me to my second option for pins and patches: Make them. You can get a button maker if you’re feeling frisky- or just go to a f*ck ton of rallies and accommodate them from there. Patches can easily be made with a scrap of black fabric and some white fabric paint. At my local WalMart a yard of plain black cotton fabric will run you about 3$ and will get you 10-20 patches depending on the size. The paint will run you about 1.50$ and an afternoon of your time just grinding away at it. 

And if you’re Extra Edgy™ like me- you’re gonna need some heckin SPIKES. Spikes are surprisingly easy to come by and add to your pieces- I get the little screw on ones: on Etsy it’ll run you about 10$ for 100 of them- or if you’re okay with it, use amazon and get 500 for 8$ (As much as I’m not a fan of big business, I can understand the need to go with the cheapest option.) 

Step three: Just literally throw that sh!t together.This is the fun part: Making it your own. This way no one has the same sh!t as you and you can wear your pride on your sleeve, back, chest ect-Small words of wisdom: -Iron on patches are weak. They’re not going to stay on for long. Just surrender to the fact you’re going to have to sew that sh!t on now and save yourself the heartache. -If you get/make flimsy fabric patches, you’re gonna need interfacing. You can also buy this at walmart for around 4$ a yard and it’ll save you so much goddamn trouble. -There is no way in the freshest of hells you’re going to be able to sew on a patch to a leather jacket. Just scrap that notion now- it’s not going to happen. So what can you do? Aleene’s super fabric glue. Literally the jaws of life aren’t gonna be enough to rip that patch off your jacket if you use it. Idk who Aleene sold her soul to to get such sticky sh!t but I stan her for it forever. -Don’t be afraid to paint directly onto your items. It’s so much f*cking fun. Just do it.-If you’re gonna make this a whole hobby/lifestyle you might want to consider investing in a sewing machine. You’ll never know true agony until you spend days hand sewing on a back piece stitch-by-stitch only to realize it’s crooked when it’s done. At least if you use a machine it’ll be 5-10 minutes of work lost as apposed to literal hours. 

THE ACCENTS: 

This is where you’re gonna throw the money you saved by thrifting your statements. These are the splurges, that one shirt with the funny logo you have saved in your bookmark bars, that impulse buy at the mall. The pricier things that you’re just not gonna be able to make yourself and would rather ask for for your birthday/christmas/whenever you’d be receiving presents.

So, as for MY guilty pleasure spots: 

WildBlackSheep on Etsy. What can I say? I love an independent bish. And their shirts are just so witty and funny, I love them to death and back. Not to mention the customer service is UNREAL. 10/10 would recommend to a friend.

WickedClothes.com. I’m just a dead ringer for combining that 80′s cartoon style with my morbid sense of humor. The ‘Let’s Have A Seance’ ringer tee is one of my favorite shirts. 

JohnnyCupcakes. Literally theres like one design, but it’s a design I love. If the cupcake with crossbones doesn’t convey who I am as a person, idk what does.

BlackCraftCult.com. Now, I’m not a satanist- but I’m extremely supportive of the ideals that neosatanism has. (Which is essentially just believing in yourself and not being an assh*le) Plus, satanist or not, the designs are dope. 

angryyoungandpoor.com. So, you want a particular piece of ‘punk’ fashion that can only be bought, but you don’t want to pay full price for it. This is your stop. It’s discount classic punk fair to find all your favorite brands at not full prices, plus more. The website can be like a goddamn maze but I’m sure every punk will find something they like there.

And theres so much more, but I’ll be here all day just getting down EVERYWHERE I buy clothes XD These are just my favorite brands, and the ones I frequent most to treat myself. 

THE ESSENTIALS: 

Now for last, but not least- literally the staples. The basics. The things every person who ever wears clothes ever needs. The foundation to lay all your accessories and statements upon to get a good cohesive look on you and have you feeling completely punkified. Find these literally anywhere that works best for you: Goodwill, Target, Walmart, whatever. It doesn’t matter as long as you have these staples to build upon your punky exterior. 

The shopping list:

-Black pants. Everyone and their mother needs just one good pair of plain black pants. They just go well with literally anything and are a dope addition to an edgy exterior. If you’ve got the funds and the time, I’d highly recommend finding one pair that fits you well and buying two of them- Keep one as normal but then take a couple of serrated knives and sandpaper to the other and give yourself some distressed pants. (Afterall, why on Gaia’s green earth would I buy PRE RIPPED JEANS when I’m the proud purveyor of my own destruction?)

Jeans.Same as the first for better or worse: You need a nice pair of jeans. I’d recommend doing the same shtick with the black pants and getting one pair to keep and one pair to rip up.

Plain black t-shirt.Literally get your butt to a dollar tree and get yourself a plain black t-shirt or two. You have no idea how useful it is to pair with your clothes. Just do it.

Plain white t-shirt.See above.

Boots.Combat boots just make the outfit. You may want to invest in a nice long-wear pair since shoes can be kinda expensive and you want a lot of milage for your buck. I’m a big fan of classic Docs bc they last FOREVER and are just good shoes. And if you’re not big on animal made items good news: They come in Vegan now. 

Converse.They’re just good shoes what can I say? It’s classic, it’s comfortable, it’s always been around and it’ll always be around. You can get them in all kinds of styles and colors- like why do I even need to explain to you why converse are a good idea? I bet 5$ you already own a pair! They’re also great running shoes in case you need to flee from cops if need be, in my experience.

And from there you can mix and match with jewelry (in the face or otherwise) and hair to get a whole look! Hope this helps my darling!! Best of luck with punking it up!!! 

[cinnbar-bun]

A Grand Night in the Jewel Resort Casino (Chat Noir (GBF) x Reader)

Summary: The Phantom Thief once again strikes on the extravagant Jewel Resort Casino, causing the captain of the Grandcypher to, once again, investigate. Unfortunately for her, the thief has other plans in mind. 

A/n: A story based on the Miraculous Ladybug AU post I made! I was very inspired right now and decided to type this up. The pronouns in this story are female, but if I get enough requests, I’ll make one for a male reader. Once again, comments and feedback are always appreciated, so please, keep them coming!

Note: For this story, Lyria is around 17 and you are older than 21! (I headcanon that Chat Noir is like around 21-23, so he’ll be in that age range.)

“Hey, (Y/n)! That Phantom guy is really grinding my gears! He better be here, or else I’m going to beat him up myself!” 

“Hush, Vyrn! I can’t have you screaming in my ear all night!” You hissed back to your Kwami. Your eyes glazed over the surrounding area and tried to find your nemesis. You pressed your mask up closer to your face, knowing very well that he knew exactly how you looked. 

The Jewel Resort staff was nothing short of hospitable, with the amount of drinks, tokens, and appetizers you were offered. You kinda wished you could visit without being on another escapade, it was a pretty resort after all. 

Lyria shakily hung to your side, her hair tied up in a bun as she quivered at the people around her. 

“D-do you see him anywhere?” She squeaked. You stopped walking and squeezed her hand gently, a confident smile on your face. 

“Don’t worry, Lyria! We’ll find him, okay? I promise, I won’t let him hurt a hair on your pretty little head.” She nodded and smiled back, calming down as she followed suit. 

You maneuvered expertly through the crowds of drunk, broke, and angered customers at the resort, heading straight for the bar. You sat down on a chair and Lyria did the same as well. You noticed her touch her earring and nod slightly, and you curiously leaned it. 

“Bahamut says he senses another kwami nearby...do you think that’s him?” She asked. 

“Only one way to find out. Give it a minute, he reveals himself eventually.” You boredly tapped the wooden bar. The bartender walked over to you, a glass of champagne in his hands as he placed it in front of you. 

“The gentleman over there wished to give this to you. Cheers, young lady!” He pointed to a man with brown hair, who glanced at you with a smirk and waved flirtatiously. You winked back and blew him a kiss before facing the bartender and grabbing the glass of champagne. 

You brought the glass close to your lips and glanced from the corner of your eyes to see if the man was looking at you. Sure enough, he was, the devious grin still on his face. 

“(Y/n)! Are you sure you should be drinking that?” Lyria worriedly whispered. You waggled a finger under the bar, informing her to patiently wait, before you over- dramatically yelped and jumped from your seat. You let the glass shatter to the floor as you feigned sadness, groaning about how ‘clumsy you were’. A bunny waitress hurriedly ran over with a towel, dabbing the stains on your red dress. 

“Oh my gosh! Are you alright?” she worriedly asked. 

“I’m fine dear, sorry for making this mess! Here, gimme that, I’ll clean it up for you.” You flashed her a smile and she handed you the towel, a red hue painting her cheeks. She scurried off and you sat back down, Lyria looking dumbstruck and what just happened. 

“Wow...I want to be as good as you someday, (Y/n).” She murmured in awe. 

“Oh, Lyria, you’ll do wonderful. I think you’re really great now, just imagining how powerful you’ll be in the future makes me feel so proud of you.” You cooed motherly, ruffling her light blue hair. She blushed before mumbling how embarrassing you were. 

A cough diverted your attention from your comrade and you turned in surprise. The man with brown hair was standing in front of you, a handkerchief in hand. 

“I see you dropped the drink I bought you. My apologies for giving it to you out the blue. I thought you might need this.” He offered the handkerchief with an apologetic smile, and you acted bashful. 

���Oh my, how thoughtful of you! A shame the drink had to go to waste.” You placed your fingers on top of his, and you noticed his cheeks turn pink. 

Perfect, you thought.

“N-nonsense! I can’t let a lady be wronged, especially if it was by my doing.” His confident attitude seemed to be fading, instead turning into a self-conscious wreck. 

“No sir, it was my fault. Although, I do need your help. I think a waitress accidentally undid the ribbon on the back of my dress. Do you mind?” You turned around to show him your bare back, the black sash across your dress indeed undone. 

“A-ah, s-sure thing..” He turned red and slowly let his hands travel to your waist. Lyria’s jaw was slack, curious to see what you would do next. She didn’t notice your hands slowly creeping backwards towards the man’s waist, where you quickly gripped them, flipped him and slammed him across the bar. 

Lyria shrieked in fear as you pinned him against the table, alerting guests around the area. 

“Give it up, Phantom Thief!” You yelled angrily, and the man’s shocked face turned into that mischievous smirk once again. 

“Ah, my darling Ladybug came by! So nice of you to grace me with your presence. Unfortunately, this game is not in your favor. Only way to stop me is to catch me~.” He teased, before a cloud of smoke covered you. You instantly retracted and coughed, closing your eyes and gasping for air. The guests around you screamed and you heard the shuffling and toppling over of tables, glasses, and chairs. 

“(Y/n)! I got you!” Lyria tugged you away from the commotion and checked to see if you were okay. 

“T-thanks...” You panted out gratefully, and Lyria nodded, a newfound determination in her eyes. 

“Is he always like this?” She asked. 

“This is pretty tame compared to the other times. Doesn’t mean it’s any easier, though. Come on, let’s get going before he causes more trouble.” You dusted off your dress and blindly ran towards the back of the casino. 

“I feel him close by!” Lyria shouted, pointing at a door at the end of the long corridor. 

“Got it. Stay alert, he doesn’t fight fair.” You readied a dagger in your hands and started to slow down. 

“W-wha? Why are you-” You grimaced at Lyria and placed your hand atop your mouth. 

No sound, you mouthed. She nervously gulped and shakily got out her weapon, a blade that looked similar to a white feather. She jumped when she felt you place a hand on her shoulder, the same reassuring smile you always gave her on your face. She was relieved to have you as a sort-of mentor. 

You crept towards the door slowly, pressing an ear on the surface to make out any noise on the other side. It sounded safe, no ticking time bombs, no bullets being placed into a revolver, and certainly no cackling. 

Turning the knob slowly, you were shocked to find a bunch of roses arranged into a large heart. In the middle of it was a pink card with a heart shaped sticker attached to it. You quickly sniffed it and smelt the familiar scent of his perfume. 

“Roses? Are they poisonous?” 

“No, he does this all the time. He’s just a drama queen.” You sighed and opened the card. 

‘My dearest Ladybug, 

It makes my heart beat at the thought of you being here! You’re so dedicated to the cause, I just knew you couldn’t resist the opportunity to capture me! As we all know though, a ladybug is no match for a cat, but perhaps you can change that? Here’s your first clue; I’m at where we first met. Can you believe it has been a year since you’ve been stopping my heists? To commemorate this wonderful occasion, I gave you a hundred of the skydom’s finest roses. Shame that none are as pretty as you. 

See you soon, 

Chat Noir.’ 

Lyria noticed you grumbling about how stupid he was, but saw the faint blush on your cheeks. 

“W-well at least he was kind enough to give you a hint! Uh, so, where did this meeting take place?” 

“A hotel room? That’s where your first meeting took place?” Lyria screamed, her face turning red. 

“No! Well yes, but not exactly. He was pretending to be room service and clean my pillows. They had a disgusting perfume smell on them. Little did I know, it was him who put it there.” You recalled that day perfectly, and if it was any constellation, you would’ve found it funny-if it weren’t for the fact almost every other day he was trying to grab your attention. 

“Is he supposed to be here or something? Did you maybe get the wrong room?” Lyria questioned, finding nothing out of the ordinary in the hotel room. 

“Lyria, he’s a bit of a tease. He most likely left a clue here. Keep your eyes peeled and check around the room.” You ordered, shifting through some of the drawers. 

Lyria decided to check the bed, thinking that if the Phantom Thief was as sentimental as he seemed to be, the next clue would be on the pillow. While you were focused on a pile of books on the nearby shelf, she swung the blanket away from the mattress and examined it. Sure enough, there was another card, the same pink envelope with a heart sticker on it, as well as the strong perfume. 

‘My little ladybug, you remembered! I hope this means you treasure my existence as much as I do yours? Perhaps you’ve, in fact, grown to love this game of cat and mouse? I propose another game to you, my dear. Under the big, red book on the shelf there is box. Crack the code and you’ll find the next clue! I have faith in you, darling!

-Chat Noir’

“Ah-ha! I found something!” You victoriously cried out. You jogged up to Lyria and showed her a wooden box about the size of a pencil case. 

“That’s what he said in the note! We gotta figure out how to open it so we can get the next clue.” Lyria explained, and you hummed in agreement as you placed the box on the bed and sat on your knees to figure out the combination. 

“Is that all he said?” You rose your eyebrows, finding it suspicious that nothing else was mentioned. 

“Um...it was mostly him calling you ‘dear’ and telling you ‘good luck’.” 

“Damn it,” you hissed bitterly, “he’s toying with me again.” 

“Why does he compliment you so much? First the roses, now this. I think he likes you.” Lyria shrugged, hoping you wouldn’t yell at her for pointing out the truth. 

“No he does not! He just likes acting like a phony! That’s it he is! Might as well be called the Phony Thief.” You harshly replied. Lyria noticed how red your cheeks were, along with how quickly you tried to deny her observations. 

“(Y/n)...do you like him too?” She bit her lip, sad you had to go through this turmoil. 

“No I don’t. He’s just another bad guy on the run. It’s my job to put him behind bars.” You responded, not even bothering to glance at her as you fiddled with the lock. 

“Doesn’t sound like that...” she murmured under her breath. You angrily huffed and tried numerous codes randomly, not even thinking through a proper answer to his riddle. 

“Damn him! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! Why can’t he just be forward for once? Why must he put up these stupid codes and waste my time?” You screamed rhetorically, chucking the box to the other side of the room. You placed your head in your hands and mumbled incoherently. 

Lyria was shocked to see you in this state. All this time she had known you, she had thought of you as someone so strong, so brave. Almost nothing made you crack, you were always there with a smile on your face and a determined outlook on life. To see her mentor, her partner, and most of all, her best friend, reacting so poorly made her heart break. She huddled over you and hugged you tightly, trying her hardest to help you relax. 

“(Y/n), please don’t cry. Come on, we’ll solve this together, right? We always do.” She whispered reassuringly. 

“He’s just gonna keep escaping me, like always. He’s the only one who I can never catch, no matter how hard I try. I just...I just...” you threw yourself into Lyria’s shoulder and began crying. 

“W-well, now you have me! Two heads are better than one!” She tried to smile. 

“You don’t understand...”

“What’s there to understand?” 

“I-it’s complicated...it’s an adult thing...” you pathetically smiled. 

“(Y/n), I’m an adult now. I’m grown up, anything you go through, we go through together.” 

“I-I...I’m sorry for acting like this it’s just...” You couldn’t finish and instead buried your head further into her shoulder. 

“There, there. Cheer up, okay? It’s my turn to help you now.” She stared into your eyes, a newfound determination in her actions, which made your heart swell with pride. 

“Oh, Lyria...you’ve grown so much.” You gripped her hands affectionately and sniffled as you blinked away the rest of your tears. “I’m so proud of you. You’ll be a fantastic hero.” 

Lyria couldn’t help but smile at your kind words, and she picked you up gleefully. 

“So, what did the box say? What could the combination be?” She asked. You frowned a bit and picked up the box, as well as a little note on the side of it. 

“I+L+O+V+E+Y+O+U”

Lyria gasped. So that’s what got you riled up. She stared at the note and racked her brain for any conclusion. 

You did the same as well, the previous anger subsiding as you focused on the case with Lyria. 

“I got it!” You exclaimed, quickly shuffling around for a writing utensil. 

“W-what is it?” She asked, struggling to put together what you were doing. 

“I can’t believe it slipped my mind!” 

“What? What slipped your mind?”

“The letters represent numbers from their place in the alphabet! I was so blinded by the message that I didn’t even think about it!” You smiled at yourself for coming to this (embarrassingly easy-to you at least) conclusion. 

“So...that’s uh...” Lyria mumbled the alphabet while counting on her fingers,  “9...12.. 15...”

“Plus 22, plus 5, plus 25, plus 15 again, plus 21...that should equal...” You scribbled the equation on a nearby book (on the encyclopedia of bugs, no less), “124!” You yelled, pointing at the small lock, and Lyria hurriedly jumped to the box, inserting the number on it. 

She squealed happily and flung open the small box, taking a look at its content. 

“It’s...a necklace?” She cocked her head in confusion and gently took out the necklace, a large red diamond encrusted with smaller black diamonds. It was pretty, she marveled, but she already knew who it was for. 

“Here, for you.” She smiled softly, delicately handing you the necklace as you covered your mouth in awe. She giggled at your reaction and found another note in there from the Phantom Thief. 

“‘Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough with my intentions this past year? Shame, I thought you were more clever than that. You always were good at discovering my disguises, but you don’t seem too good at reading my feelings. How you wound my heart! If anything, you should be a thief for stealing my heart like that. To make up for your crimes, I’ll steal yours as well. Please enjoy this necklace, made with nothing but the most splendid rubies I could find. I hope to see you, my ladybug, in the gardens.’“ Lyria read the note. 

You felt your breath hitch and you looked dumbfounded at Lyria. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Shouldn’t you be going?” She teased, handing you the letter. You took it and began to walk away, but hesitated. 

“Should I do this?” You asked. 

“Why shouldn’t you? It’s going to be a romantic getaway! You might even finally put his shenanigans to rest!” She clasped her hands together and bounded slightly to your side. 

“What if he was lying?” You anxiously responded. 

“Then we kick his butt! Come on, just go talk to him!” She shoved you out of the room and wished you good luck. Maybe it was time you admitted the truth, 

You loved Chat Noir. 

You felt excited, relieved even, that you got yourself to admit that, and you took a deep breath to calm your anxiety. 

I’m going to meet you, Phantom Thief. 

You had no clue what could happen. A million scenarios ran through your mind, what if he rejected you? What if he actually did love you? Thoughts of your own bitter humiliation or a wondrous future together flowed endlessly, and with each step you felt as if you were going to burst.

As you walked down numerous hallways and rooms, you finally made it towards the Casino gardens. You had never really taken the time to enjoy it, but seeing it now, especially under the shining light of the stars and moon, it looked absolutely beautiful.

“Ah, you came.” A voice broke you out of your daydreams and you instinctively pressed a dagger to his throat. “Easy now, I know you hate me, but please, hear me out for a moment?” He gave you a wry grin and held his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Geez, you almost gave me a heart attack.” You rolled your eyes and he chuckled. 

“I see you have the necklace I gave you. Do you like it?” He seemed genuinely worried that you did not want it, but he masked it was a smirk. 

“I-I love it. A lot. It matches my outfit!” You laughed nervously. 

“Good, good. Would you like to try it on?” He stretched out his hand towards you and nudged it towards the necklace. You nodded sheepishly and turned around. He hummed carelessly as his gloved hands placed the cool metal around your neck. “There. Beautiful, as always.” 

You faced him again, and you stared into his cerulean blue eyes. They reminded you of the very sky you traveled in, and it made you feel even more hopelessly in love. 

“Do you know why I always targeted places where you’d be close to?” He asked rhetorically. 

“Now I do...all that time, I just thought you were messing with me..” 

“While I do like playing a few games, I’m certainly not patient when it comes to stealing what I want.” 

“And what is that you want from me?” 

“Like I said before, your heart. As the saying goes, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.” He fiddled with his cane as he cockily smirked at you. 

“How do I know you aren’t lying to me?” You questioned. He seemed to falter, and he froze. 

“I guess it is something that cannot be helped. No matter how many gifts I give you, or words I write for you, there always will be doubt of my true intentions, correct?” 

“No...I really want to give you a chance. But, I don’t know if I should take this risk.” You shook your head sorrowfully. He lifted up your chin with his thumb and index finger, a shy smile on his face instead of his usual grin. 

“Don’t we always take risks? I made the risk to give you my heart, you, a hero amongst the sky. I am but a thief, one who has been chasing after a treasure that is just within my grasp.” 

“Noir...” You whispered his name, and he brought his hands to grip yours. 

“Don’t think of me as a thief in this moment, please?” He begged, his voice cracking as he continued. “I want you to see me as a man. One who adores you from the bottom of his heart. My ladybug, you are my greatest treasure.” 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this...Noir, I...I want to give you my heart. I want to see where this relationship can take us.” You blushed red at your response, embarrassed that you were actually confessing. 

“I’m glad you feel the same as me.” He sincerely spoke. 

“About that though,” You cut him off, and his eyes widened in fear, “I... I don’t want you to steal anymore. I just can’t condone that.” 

To your surprise, he pulled off his hat and bent down on one knee. 

“I might not need to be a thief anymore. I just pulled off my greatest heist yet. Perhaps, if I’m even worthy of it, I can join your side? I’m sure my friend, Nyx, would love that, won’t you dear?” He talked to a part of his hat, and it wiggled in response. 

“Your kwami is named Nyx?” You curiously asked. 

“Mhm. She’s a bit of a troublemaker herself, she usually helps me with my disguises.”

“Interesting. I’m sure that’d be useful.” You laughed. Chat Noir pulled you close to him and hugged you tightly. 

“Thank you, my ladybug. The night is still young, so how about I show you a good time?” He snickered quietly. 

“As long as there’s no stealing.” You cheekily responded. 

“No promises. I might steal a few kisses from those pretty lips of yours.” He grinned, and began walking away to the inside of the casino. 

“H-hey, wait for me!” Half-dazed, you stumbled as you ran after him. 

One thing’s for sure, your life with Chat Noir was always filled with excitement and mystery. Perhaps that’s why you fell for him, the thrill of adventure always present around him. 

[orokinarchives]

Roky & Boon Dialogue

(Roky concept art, DevStream 117)

The two major factions of the Ventkids are the Vent Pobbers, led by Roky, and the Kubrodons, led by Boon, although these groups seem to be based more on shared interests than contentious competition, seeing as Roky and Boon are amiable adoptive siblings. In their main clubhouse in the vents, Roky and Boon can be seen bantering, while other Ventkids lounge around, practise their K-drive skills in the air currents, or play their own music with improvised instruments – a genre they call "skeg".

Syndicate information

Roky is the main representative of the Ventkids in their dealings with the Tenno. The Ventkids are described thusly:

Hangin' with their logical fam in the ducts of Fortuna, the Ventkids get by stealing parts from the Corpus and running K-drive races out on the Vallis. At night, the ventways bang to the sound of skeg – to the chagrin of the locals.

The Ventkids offer components to build K-drives: the board, reactor, nose, and jets. They also offer K-drive mods, as well as craftable Operator apparel based on the clothes worn by the Ventkids. The Syndicate ranks, from least to most favoured, are:

Neutral: [no description]

Glinty: No dings, never taken a hit, wouldn't know ya ta look at ya. Have you ever ridden a K-drive?

Whozit: Nice enough; wouldn't last five minutes in a vent.

Proper Felon: Solid sorta mucker and you ride a K-drive like it's stolen. 'Cause it is.

Primo: Stand-up cove and vouched for, this one. Chek-chek?

Logical: Had no say in your biological fam, but this crew's your logical fam. Ventkids are logical; got no time for muckers who ain't.

Unlike the faction Syndicates, Standing with the Ventkids is earned by performing tricks on the K-drive, or completing the races on the Orb Vallis.

In Fortuna

The Ventkids are located in the vents of Fortuna, accessible through a grate on the second floor of Fortuna, above Legs' shop. This grate does not open prior to the completion of the Vox Solaris quest. The grate in question displays a graffito, while an unnamed Ventkid sits above it, occasionally calling out to the Tenno.

"Need a ride, glinty? K-drives by the load! Just through that vent there! Hahaha."

"Check the vents, glinty! Just here. A paying customer's always welcome."

Entering vents

Upon entering the vents, Roky and Boon can be heard speaking. Sometimes, Roky will address the Tenno; other times, the Tenno will interrupt a conversation between Roky and Boon.

Roky: "Psst! Glinty! Need a plank? Parts? Talkin' primo K-drive bits. Get you ridin', kick it terminal out on the Vallis. Cheap, too."

Roky: "Ventkids got no folks so ventkids look after themselves. We can sort you with a dog board, no worries."

Roky: "Checknah, glinty! All K-drive bits we got legit! Now, you want expert parts and service, or you suckin' wind?"

Boon: "Fancy. Whatcha doin'? Got biz?" Roky: (whisper) "Pump the brakes, bro. This one's a buyer. (normal voice) Need a ride, friend? The Kubrodons and Vent Pobbers are at your service!"

Boon: "Checknah, sis, glinty thinks his kickin' terminal. Nosegrab, bombed the landin', washed out hard and hit skin for a stretch. Came up livid! Hahaha!" Roky: "Hahahahaha! (whisper) Klokkit. We got a buyer. (normal voice) Howzit."

Roky: "Glinty mucker wants in. I tells him: 'Our family's logical, see? Your lot's biological. Mumsie. Dadsie. Luck a' the draw. All coddled and swaddled.' Mucker wouldn't last ten seconds in a vent." Boon: "Bah-bah." Roky: "Bah-bah beh-beh."

Roky: "Legs? All that rhymin'? You want that hangin' logical? How we get somethin' his size into a ventspace? With a mallet?" Boon: "He's gettin' by hard, same as us. Ain't no self-pity in there, neither. Just grit. Scope it clean and you'll klokkit."

Roky: "Vent Pobbers got new digs. Old filtration chamber they don't use no more. Movin' our racks and gear end of cycle." Boon: "Skeggin' it up?" Roky: "Yeah. It's square in the D-7 vent-tangle. Bang and bounce is dog. Keep the whole section up, we will."

Boon: "Problem is, see, people are too rich. Not enough to go 'round. That's why we're down this hole." Roky: "Know how you stop someone gettin' too rich?" Boon: "Drop 'em down a hole."

Roky: "Skill, bro. Every time." Boon: "You could bigflip off an Orb Mother, come down flair and smilin', but it's aaaaall idiot shivers for the crowd you dress bad, sis." Roky: "Win hard, and folks be dressin' bad by breakfast."

Roky: "Hit the rail, movin' terminal, klokkit? Grinded for a lifetime offa that taxi loader. Vapour trail! Couldn't touch Roky." Boon: "Skill don't mean nah lookin' like you dressed by mumsie. Get your crew decked, look the part. Ain't nobody respectin' a pack a fish-lookin' null units. Hahahahaha!"

Boon: "Word is Nef's gonna sweep the ducts, net up all the Ventkids. Sortin' merk-merks for the job. They's a special unit." Roky: "You're a special unit." Boon: "Gonna net us all up, make us work deep deep down, we ain't wily. Nef don't like no Ventkids and he don't like no skeg neither."

Greeting the Tenno

(if the Tenno is new to Fortuna) Roky: "We Ventkids. No Mumsie-Dadsie for us. No biological kin, just our logical kin. This here's me logical-bro, Boon. He runs the Kubrodons, scores the parts. I run the Vent Pobbers, we make the boards. You buyin'? Need a plank? Once a cycle I got somethin' dog. Best prices too, glinty. Mates' rates, chek?"

Roky: "Howzit, glinty. You lookin' or what?"

Roky: "Howzit, glinty. Got a need?"

Roky: "Howzit. Boards and bits, let you grind terminal. Check me wares."

Roky: "Look, we need dosh, you need a plank. You ride, we get fed, chekchek?"

(if the Tenno has just reached rank Logical) Roky: "Boon. Boon! Get over here! It's our Outworlder buddy. How ya doin', Outworlder-buddy?"

(if the Tenno is rank Logical) Roky: "Hey, erm… you klok Boon's keen on that Legs mucker? He says we should make Legs logical. Part of our fam. I tell him he won't fit in the vents. He says Legs could just take his head off and we could lug him 'round. [pause] Jealous? Nah! Boon's me logical! That'd be weird. I jus'… he's me most logical fam. I got no other."

(if the Tenno is rank Logical) Roky: "Hey, you know some old cove Smokefinger? Me and the crew bang skeg in the vents of a down-cycle, and he leaves us these, wedged in the grilles come up-cycle. Says it's 'sheet music'. What's a 'sonata'? Woss'e sayin'? Our clangin' ain't dog enough for his old receptors? Woss a 'Mandachord' anyway?"

(if the Tenno is rank Logical) Roky: "My kids don't go near that hunter-trapper Business cove. Not since Bobo. The Business moves in, starts talkin' cute and furry animals, Bobo thinks Biz is an easy mark. By the time Bobo's pulled his Kitgun, Biz is handin' it back to him without the clip. Dunno what that old cove told Bobo, but Bobo ain't touched a gun since. We got no idea who that Biz mucker really is, an' we don't wanna know."

(if the Tenno is rank Logical) Roky: "Zuud's a bit lateral, in'she? We get calls some down-cycles, wantin' parts. It's Zuud, 'cept it ain't always her voice. Some other lady. Imagine if that was yer Mumsie. That was your biological, an' you just had to live with that. Pfeh. That's why me and Boon and the kids hang logical. Choose the kind of crazy we live with."

(if the Tenno is rank Logical) Roky: "I scope you, Outworlder-buddy! Lookin' dog as always. What can the Vent Pobbers fit you with?"

(if the Tenno is rank Logical) Roky: "Hey, just in time. We were about to hit the Vallis, grind some off Nef's face. Ten points for the eyebrows. Need anything?"

Assembling K-drive

Roky: "Can't help ya, glinty. I need somethin' to work with."

Roky: "Gotta need some bits and pieces, glinty. We live in the vents, not a Relay."

Roky: "Want me to bolt two canisters to a piece of siding, charge you fifty so you can make broom-broom noises? Need parts, glinty. Parts."

Selecting a K-drive part

Roky: "Hmm. Intriguing."

Roky: "Ah, yeah. Okay. Sure."

Roky: "Couldn't have picked better meself."

Constructing K-drive

Roky: "Boon! Klokkit. This be terminal style, chek? Yeah? [pause] No?! Ah, go stick your head in one. This board'll make you a star, glinty. No mistake."

Roky: "Someday, glinty, the System's gonna know my name – and you'll be able to say: 'I bought one a' the first Rides by Roky.'"

Roky: "Dog. In'she dog? Come on! A little appreciation, glinty."

Daily special

Roky: "Boon's crew taxed the parts quiet-like, an' we Vent Pobbers bashed it together last cycle. Terminal ride. I'll gutterball the price n'all. Deal?"

Roky: "Boon's crew got air over a zap-fence to score this lot. Corpus maintenance crew's gonna be comin' up short next cycle, but hey – we Vent Pobbers pass the savings onto you."

Roky: "Parts freshly nicked by the Kubrodons – Boon's crew. Bashed this plank together meself, I did. One-of-a-kind, guaranteed."

Roky: "Fell off the back of a loader. Wanna bargain, today's it."

Naming K-drive

Roky: "Now get out there and give 'em hell. Tell 'em the Ventkids sent ya."

Roky: "Aw, pretty. Okay, all done."

Roky: "Nice. I don't get the reference, but that sounds real poetic."

Bidding farewell

Roky: "Boon's crew, the Kubrodons, gotta hand off a buncha live gear before they get burned. Planks, drives, could be anythin'. Scope me in a few, check-check?"

Roky: "Bah-bah, be-be."

Roky: "Bye bye, glinty."

Starting a K-drive race

Out on the Orb Vallis, there are 22 K-drive racing areas, although only 5 will be active on any given day. At these locations, the Tenno can find Boon, sitting on his hoverboard. Approaching him will cause a scoreboard to appear, showing the highest-scoring Tenno for that race. Interacting with Boon will cause the race markers to appear as pink rings on the terrain. The Tenno must pass through all the rings before the time runs out, although the timer does not start until they pass through the first ring. Passing through additional rings will add time to the clock. Dismounting the board or being thrown off it does not forfeit the race as long as the Tenno can get back on the board and pass through the next ring before time runs out, despite Boon's implication otherwise.

Some of the races are down slopes and across terrain; some go through Corpus bases, and some twist through the caverns. The 22 races are: Deathgrip, Sky-Eye, Roky's Roll, Pobber's Drop, Breakdown or Bust, Puffin' Pastures, The Hard Way, Mumsie Dadsie, Fortuna's Folley, Bomb the Spaceport, Meat and Greet, Frost Merchant, Lord of the Board, Dog Line, Kubrodon Twist, Catalyst, River Run, Skeggin' Out, Taxman's Curve, Shaving Nef, Anyo's Ointment, and Grinding the Void.

Boon: "Works like this: hit the marker, the timer starts. Vapour trail, chek? Ya bomb, and ya done. Ready?"

Boon: "Rules are simple: timer starts once you hit the first marker. Now, let's see what ya packin'."

Boon: "Arright, klokkit! I say go, ya floor it. Time kicks off once you hit the first marker. Ready?"

Hitting the first marker

Boon: "First marker gone. Bah-bah!"

Boon: "Boom!"

Boon: "Nice form. Let's see you keep it."

Failing a race

Boon: "Oof. Idiot shivers all 'round. Ya bombed that one, glinty."

Boon: "Put in the hours, glinty. You'll get there. Hahahaha!"

Boon: "Ha ha! Klokked it. Fish-lookin' null-unit."

Finishing a race

Boon: "Nothin' fancy, but got it done. Ya plank okay for a glinty mucker."

Boon: "Ya, don't get smug. You did fine, but chek no flair. You scored that one, but I'm still king."

Boon: "You's a lucky mucker an' no mistake. Skin a' ya teeth, glinty!"

Roky is mentioned in the Vox Solaris quest, and Boon has some dialogue during the Profit-Taker Orb Mother heist. The Ventkids are mentioned in the dialogue of Eudico, The Business, Rude Zuud, and Smokefinger, and Legs' lore fragments.

[Navigation: Hub → Dialogue → Roky & Boon]

[overanalyseverything]

Where Is Thomas Jefferson?

kinda rushed, not proofread. oh well. day one. @jamiltonweek

-------------

“Welcome back to CNN. Breaking news out of France: Gilbert Durand’s claim of being the reincarnation of the Marquis de Lafayette, American Revolutionary war hero, has been confirmed by the French Department of Reincarnated Peoples. He has asked to be referred to simply as Lafayette from here on forward. Rumors that Lafayette has teamed up with Friedrich Von Steuben to promote accurate depictions of LGBT history are surfacing, and a recent twitter post from Steuben seems to confirm them, though nothing is proven.

“The Steuben Initiative has been given extreme support from reincarnate Alexander Hamilton, formerly Alex Hernandez, after he revealed the he is bisexual. He claims to not have changed his sexual orientation from his original life. Other famous figures from history have been more hesitant to support Steuben, though the Initiative has been gaining steam of late.

“The list of household names from the American Revolution still unfound is dwindling, but the search for the remaining few people is as strong as the day it started. Washington, Adams, Franklin, Madison, and many of the more famous names have been found and confirmed. But one man still eludes the public, and he will be the topic of tonight’s special:

“Where Is Thomas Jefferson?”

---------------

“Name?” Thomas asks, a sharpie in one hand and a cup in another. The latino man at the counter smirks.

“You know who I am,” he says. Thomas stifles a sigh.

“I’m sorry sir, but I need your name,” he says, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

“My name is whatever your number is,” the customer says, flashing what he must think is a flirtatious look.

“Your name, sir. Please,” Thomas says through a gritted smile. The man rolls his eyes and stands up from where he was leaning on the counter.

“Hamilton,” he says. Thomas nods, scribbling the name down on the coffee cup.

“It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” he says, turning away to hand the cup to his coworker, Kyle. He can feel Hamilton’s eyes on his ass and he has to resist the urge to call him out on it. Kyle shoots him a sympathetic look as he brews Hamilton’s triple espresso. As Hamilton walks away to a table, Thomas lets out a breath.

He’d be annoyed if Hamilton’s flirting didn’t drive him so goddamned crazy.

Thomas just had to have chosen the one coffee shop in all of New York Hamilton liked better than any other to work in. Thomas wasn’t even supposed to be here, he was supposed to be a young, hot-shot lawyer rising the ranks at a blinding speed. Had he stayed in Virginia, he might have been just that. But Thomas couldn’t stay in Virginia, not if looking around at the rolling farmland made him feel as guilty as it did.

So to New York he went, only to find that no one wanted to hire a no-name Virginian law student. And here he was, a barista in the morning, a waiter in the afternoon and a bartender ar night. It was hell, but it had been fine until Hamilton walked back into his life. The universe couldn’t just let him atone for his crimes in peace, could it?

The bell signaling the door opening rang, and Thomas plastered a smile back on his face. He turned around to greet the new customer. “Hi, welcome to-”

“Laf!” Hamilton exclaims.  The new customer- tall, dark skinned with hair pulled back in a bun- turns in the short man’s direction and beams.

“Mon petit lion,” he breathes. Hamilton rockets from his seat and throws his arms around Lafayette’s middle. The taller man stumbles back under the force of Hamilton’s hug, but keeps his feet. For a moment, both men simply stand in the middle of the cafe in a tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you,” Hamilton breathes. Lafayette chuckles.

“How did you recognize me?” Lafayette’s accent is much thinner this time around, Thomas notices, much easier to understand. Hamilton pulls back and grins up at the man.

“You’ve been on tv, you dolt. Come on, then. We gotta talk.” Hamilton grabs Lafayette by the wrist and tries to pull him back to the table Hamilton had chosen.

“I have to order, no?” Lafayette motions in Thomas’ direction. Thomas, the customer service smile still stretched across his face, suddenly feels a pang of fear. Hamilton huffs good naturedly, and lets Lafayette go. Lafayette rolls his eyes and turns back to Thomas.

“My apologies. My friend can be very excitable,” Lafayette says.

Oh I know, Thomas thinks. Out loud he says. “It’s alright sir. What can I get you today?” As Lafayette rambles off his order- something really complicated and full of caramel- Thomas tries to keep his head down as much as possible. Hamilton had never recognized him, thank god, but Lafayette was a different beast. Thomas had actually been friends with Lafayette. No matter that Thomas looked nothing like he used to.

Lafayette finishes his order and Thomas nearly forgets to ask him his name before automatically scribbling it down on the cup. Thomas stutters as he rushes the question, trying to cover for his mistake.

“Laf is fine,” Lafayette says. Thomas nods and writes the nickname down, shoving the cup in Kyle’s direction just as Kyle hands him Hamilton’s completed order.

“Hamilton,” Thomas calls out into the cafe.

“I’m right here,” Hamilton says, still standing right beside Lafayette. “You really think they’d start to remember regulars,” he grumbles to Laf in French. Thomas grits his jaw, his knowledge of languages having survived the reincarnation. Lafayette sighs and says something back, but Thomas doesn’t want to hear.

Once a stuck up shit, always a stuck up shit, Thomas thinks to himself, but it’s not completely without a fondness to it. Hamilton takes his drink from Thomas. Like always, Hamilton lets his hand brush Thomas’ and Thomas jerks his hand away like he’s been burned. Hamilton rolls his eyes and takes a drink, lips wrapping around the straw. Thomas swallows and turns away, fumbling around with one of the blenders like he’s actually working and not drowning in his own emotions.

“Come on, Laf,” Hamilton says. “Sit while they make your shit.” This time, Lafayette lets himself get led away, but not before shooting an apologetic look in Thomas direction. Thomas watches them go, Hamilton already rambling about something.

Thomas watches their conversation out of the corner of his eye, Lafayette looks excited, overjoyed to be reunited with his old friend. A ball of sadness lodges in Thomas’ stomach. Laf probably hates me now, he thinks. Everyone would. So he tries not to get caught sneaking glances at two of the most important men from his last life.

When he calls for Lafayette, the Frenchman comes up to the counter with the same easy grace he always had. When Thomas hands him his drink, he give Thomas a little knowing smile. Thomas stomach plummets, but Lafayette doesn’t say anything, just skips away back to Hamilton.

Thomas glances at the clock, ten minutes until he’s off. He breathes a sigh of relief and busies himself cleaning the countertop until the phone in his pocket buzzes. Silently cheering, Thomas runs in the back and drops off his apron. He collects his stuff quickly, tearing his poof of hair out of the hat and shaking it out. He leaves the back room just as his replacement comes in and Thomas waves goodbye to her and Kyle both.

Bag slung over one shoulder, Thomas speedwalks through the cafe, trying not look over at-

“Hey! Wait a moment!” Lafayette calls and Thomas stumbles over his own feet. He bites his lip, eyeing the front door. He doesn’t have to go over there, he really doesn’t. He can leave, no problem. “Please, just come over for a second, yes?”

It’s Lafayette, Thomas’ brain says, and Thomas sighs. He changes course, coming over to stand by the two men’s table. “If you want something, I’m off the clock,” Thomas informs them, frowning. Lafayette shakes his head.

“Alexander has something to ask you,” he purrs, looking at Hamilton with both eyebrows raised. Hamilton coughs and shifts in his seat. Thomas looks at him curiously, wanting to be anywhere but here. He catches himself staring at the man’s eyes and tries to look anywhere else.

“I uh, wanted to know,” Hamilton takes a breath, “wou-why are you such a dick?” He says, words rushing to cover up something else. Thomas starts, feeling his face arrange itself in a familiar wall of disgust. Lafayette jerks, surprise flooding his features. Hamilton keeps talking, words flooding out of his mouth like they always did. “I mean, I know you recognize me every day. I get it if you don’t like me, but why?”

“You don’t impress me,” Thomas replies, the first reason that pops to his head that won’t immediately out him. Hamilton’s brows furrow, then a look of understanding crosses his face.

“Ah, you’re one of those, are you?”

“One of who?” Thomas asks.

Hamilton scoffs. “‘It doesn’t matter who you were,’’ he mocks. “‘It only matters who you are.’ One of those people. Full of bullshit.”

“Mon ami,” Lafayette says, voice full of warning and concern. Hamilton rolls his eyes.

“You know it’s bullshit. People who say that are just jealous they never managed to do anything with their last lives.”

Lafayette’s lips purse. “Well, I’m sure his last life was perfectly good. I’m sure you were wonderful,” he says, looking up at Thomas hopefully. Thomas levels him with a glare.

“I was a slave plantation owner,” he says. Lafayette blinks, Hamilton chokes on his coffee.

“Jesus,” the shorter man coughs. “That’s not usually something people just admit.” Hamilton looks at Thomas with wide eyes. Thomas sighs.

“Yes, well, it’s true and normally gets people to shut up and leave me alone,” he says pointedly. Lafayette looks ashamed, and looks down at the table. Hamilton’s jaw grinds, and it looks like he’s about to say something, but Thomas takes this as his cue to get the hell out of there. He spins on one heel and takes off, heading for the door. He hears them start to mutter to each other in French.

“A slave owner, Laf,” Hamilton sighs.

“Well, he seems pretty repentant…” Laf trails. “It’s okay, my friend. You’ll win him in the end. You always managed to get everyone in the end.”

“Everybody but one.”

Thomas doesn’t hear anything else, just listens to his own footsteps as he starts the multi-block journey to his second job.

------------

“You have got to be kidding me,” Thomas mutters, catching a glimpse of the group that just walked in the door. Hamilton approaches the hostess, but Thomas is too far away to hear what he’s saying. He watches, holding his breath, as Jenna pulls out three menus and leads Hamilton, Lafayette and the new addition to their group through the restaurant.

Of course she seats them right in the middle of Thomas’ tables. Just fuck me, Thomas thinks. God strike me down now. Lilly passes him with a tray of drinks and he tries to get her to take the Hamilton table, but she’s full up and Thomas has nothing to trade. So he putters about, trying to delay the inevitable. But time is passing and Hamilton is starting to look a little antsy, so Thomas bites the bullet.

“Hi, welcome to Lewis and Clark’s, my name is Thomas and I’ll be your server for today.” The usual greeting comes out in a rush. Thomas fiddles with his pen and tries not to make eye-contact. Maybe they won’t recognize him. Maybe-

“Well, look at this. It’s the unimpressed barisa!” Hamilton exclaims. Thomas stifles a groan.

“Can I get you started with some drinks?” He asks, just wanting it to be over. Out of all the cosmic punishments Thomas deserves, this is not one of them.

“Lemme introduce you to James Madison,” Hamilton says, jerking his head at the third person at the table. Thomas blinks, looking up but having to hold back his excitement. It is James alright, the new James that’s still sickly and quiet looking. Hamilton chuckles at Thomas’ expression. “Impressed yet?”

Thomas fights to keep his face neutral, but being this close to Jemmy is making it difficult. James looks at him like he’s a complete stranger, which is fair, Thomas supposes, but it hurts. Instead, he clears his throat.

“Would you like something to drink? Or perhaps you’re ready to order?” He says tersely.

“James Madison, you know,” Hamilton drawls. “Fourth President of these United States? Wrote the Constitution?” Thomas breathes through his smile, just about ready to reach over and tear Hamilton’s face off.

“Let it go, Hamilton,” James breaks in, his voice just as quiet and stoic as Thomas remembers. “We’re here to discuss things.”

Hamilton frowns at him “But-”

“If you spend the entire time messing with our poor waiter, we won’t get anything done,” James says. Hamilton grumbles something and settles into his seat. Lafayette just gives Thomas another apologetic looks as they order drinks.

Thomas practically jogs away from their table, and wastes as much time as possible doing the rounds to his other tables. When he finally runs out of things to do, he drags his feet getting their sodas and bringing them to the three. As he gets closer, he can hear their conversation.

“...only wish we could find Thomas,” James sighs. Thomas swallows, feeling his chest tighten.

“Your drinks, sirs,” he says, handing Lafayette a cherry cola. He nods his thanks as Hamilton scoffs.

“Jefferson? What makes you think he’d support the Initiative?” He asks. “Of all people.”

“Yes, Hamilton.” James nods. “I don’t know about Lafayette, but I remember certain interesting conversations with Thomas.” Laf nods as Hamilton’s eyes go wide.

“Jefferson?” He asks. James nods again. Thomas tries not to glare at him as he puts down the last drink, his hands starting to shake. Lafayette looks at him in concern, but Thomas busies himself by pulling out his notepad again.

“He’d support the Initiative.”

“What if he wants to ‘protect his reputation?’”

“Thomas Jefferson has no reputation to protect, his current one people respect is based on half-truths and he should be remembered for the lying, hypocritical slave-owning cheating bastard he was.” Thomas clicks his pen, the men at the table gone silent and looking at him in shock. “Can I take your order?”

Thomas watches all three of them process what he just said. Lafayette looks like he can’t quite believe what he just heard, James looks mildly upset, but Hamilton is pissed. His face turns a familiar bright red and he scowls.

“How fucking dare you?” Hamilton spits. Thomas cocks one eyebrow, as if urging Hamilton to argue, but he’s honestly curious as to why Hamilton looks this angry. “Thomas Jefferson was one of the smartest men I ever knew.”

“Just because he was smart doesn’t mean he was a decent person,” Thomas counters. “What would you like for lunch?” Hamilton hits the table, causing the cups and silverware to rattle slightly.

“Look, Jefferson might have had some backwards ideas, owned slaves and been a general obstructionist bastard-” ah, there’s the truth, Hamilton, Thomas thinks, “-but he was also a great writer and debater and really wanted the best for his country so you can fuck off.”

Hamilton is on the verge of hyperventilating in anger, and Thomas can’t quite believe what he’s just heard. Hamilton, complimenting him? They look at each other in silence, each seemingly daring the other to speak again.

“I’ll take the reuben,” James says. Thomas breaks his staring contest with Hamilton to smile and nod. He scratches James’ order down and Lafayette follows, ordering for Hamilton when the shorter man won’t speak.

The rest of Thomas’ shift passes quietly, Hamilton glaring whenever Thomas draws near and Thomas never staying long enough to start up an argument. But something in him wants to, wants to have one last full-blown debate with Hamilton, just one last time. Like the old days, back before Thomas got a second life and realized what a piece of shit he’d been the first time around.

Hamilton doesn’t tip, but James leaves him enough to cover for it.

-------------

Thomas takes over for the last bartender, throwing a rag over his shoulder and getting into the right mindset to do his job. No more mulling over Hamilton or Laf or James. Just make some drunk people some more drinks and get out of here. Thomas manages to lose himself in the mixing of countless cocktails and pouring of beer. Some guy rambles to him about his ex-girlfriend, and Thomas pretends to care, but just lets the guy talk.

Thomas has made it halfway through his shift when he looks up and sees George Washington walk in. It’s not unusual, Washington likes this bar enough to come in regularly enough. Thomas actually doesn’t mind. He likes talking to Washington, the old general is one of the few reincarnates that doesn’t make everything about his old life.

Thomas smile falls as he watches James, Laf and Hamilton file in behind Washington. Washington leads the group over to the bar and Thomas turns around to compose himself. He lets out a breath. Today just doesn’t end, does it? He makes Washington his usual and turns around just in time to meet him.

“Thanks, Thomas,” Washington says, taking the glass of whiskey. “Get these boys whatever they like and put it on my bill.” Thomas nods, and looks down the line. When he gets to Hamilton, he scowl and look of sheer anger catches Thomas a little off guard.

“Are you serious?” Hamilton hisses. Thomas nods, shooting him a little smile. Washington looks at Hamilton questioningly, and James looks like he’s already developing a headache.

“This is the asshole who insulted Jefferson, sir!” Hamilton exclaims, pointing at Thomas. Washington looks back at Thomas, who shrugs.

“I simply spoke my mind about the man.” Thomas looks at Hamilton dead on. “Now, I’m only going to ask you once this time. What would you like to drink?” Hamilton looks like he’s about to burst into another rant, but just spits a request for a bottle of Sam Adams. The four men settle onto bar stools and get to talking. Thomas tries not to listen, but he’s too curious.

The conversation turns to Steuben’s Institute again: Madison, Laf and Hamilton all begging Washington to throw his support behind it. Washington is simply listening in silence. All three men argue the same points, and it’s starting to grate on Thomas’ nerves. It almost sounds like an old cabinet meeting, but there’s no opposing viewpoint, no debate being had.

I can rectify that, Thomas thinks, and his mouth is already working before he can talk himself out of it.

“With all due respect,” he begins, “the Steuben Initiative is nothing but a way to get a few individuals recognized for being a ‘minority’ during a time when no one but straight white men were in power. It’s a cheap gimmick to get sympathy for people who shouldn’t have any.” Thomas continues to wipe down the counter, but he sees all four heads snap in his direction. “Furthermore, Friedrich Von Steuben is a known liar and historically bad with money. The Initiative will be bankrupt within a month.”

“You sure talk a big game for someone who works three minimum wage jobs,” Hamilton fires back. “Steuben is a hero and a symbol for the gay community. If there is any person who should be the face of it, it’s him. The only other names- Achilles, Sappho, Alexander the Great, Oscar Wilde- have either died a second time or haven’t been reborn yet. And the Initiative is not a ‘cheap gimmick.’ Historical figures who were not cisgender or heterosexual but would have been shamed at the time of their life or lives deserve the recognition!”

“Deserve the recognition now that it's socially acceptable to be out, and not actually when it would have perhaps done something good for the gay community.” Thomas doesn't believe a goddamned word he's saying but oh, he's having fun. He can feel the familiar feeling of adrenaline thrumming in his veins. And Hamilton, Hamilton, he looks gorgeous like his. Riled up and passionate.

“It would do wonders for the gay community! Having proof that people have always been something other than straight and cis is amazing! Imagine being a gay youth and being able to look in a history book and point out people like you that actually did something with their lives.”

“Imagine doing that for the African American community, or the Asian American community, or any other minority group in this country!”

“Oh, so because we’re not focused on racial minorities, we shouldn't get anything? We aren't just focused on white historical figures. POC LGBT people are just as represented. You'd know that if you actually knew anything about the Initiative. As it stands, you're a minimum wage worker who doesn't know what he's talking about. And the racial minorities argument is even funnier coming from an ex-slave owner.”

Thomas stops, his hand freezing on the counter where he was halfway through making Lafayette a refill. He looks up at Hamilton. “I'll let you know I have a law degree from UVA. And I actually support the Initiative, how could I not? I'm just doing my job, Hamilton. What I've always done: argue with you.” The words fall out before Thomas realizes what he's saying. Hamilton’s face falls into one of confusion.

“What's that supposed to mean?” He asks. Thomas swallows.

“Nothing,” he mutters. “Forget I said anything.” Thomas finished Laf’s drink and goes to walk to the other end of the bar. Hamilton lunges over the counter and grabs a hold of Thomas.

“Alex, what are you doing!” Laf exclaims. Hamilton grits his jaw and ignores him.

“What do you mean, ‘what you've always done?’” He repeats, asking the question through gritted teeth. Thomas kicks himself, realizing that he's gone and ruined everything.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Let go of me, okay? It doesn't matter.” He tries to tug his hand free but Hamilton holds on. His eyes are searching Thomas’ face, and the sight of them sends pangs of longing through Thomas. Then, Hamilton’s eyes go wide in understanding.

“A slave owner who ‘always fought with me,” he breathes. Thomas winces, shutting his eyes and waiting for it. “Thomas Jefferson,” Hamilton says.

“What?” James asks.

“Thomas motherfucking Jefferson!” Hamilton exclaims, something akin to joy in his voice. “You everloving asshole!”

“Yes, yes, be proud of yourself Hamilton. Let go of my arm, would you?” Thomas grumbles. Finally Hamilton complies, and instantly Thomas misses the physical connection.

“Thomas?” Lafayette asks, as if he still doesn't quite believe it. Reluctantly, Thomas nods. Laf’s face lights up, a grin spreading across his face.

“I can't believe you never said anything! I've been going to that cafe for months!” Hamilton bounces in his seat, and Thomas can't help but find it endearing.

“You've been flirting with me for months too,” Thomas reminds him. Instantly Hamilton's expression of happiness falls, only to be replaced with embarrassment and anger.

“I've been flirting with Thomas Jefferson,” he mutters, dumbstruck and seemingly disgusted. Lafayette breaks out into laughter. Washington looks slightly amused, glancing between the two of them with an odd look.

James coughs. “Thomas, if it's really you,” he says, “explain what you meant by what you said about yourself at the restaurant.”

Thomas freezes, and suddenly the mood turns more somber. Lafayette stops laughing and all four sets of eyes are on Thomas. “I…” he hesitates, “I realized that I was a piece of human garbage last time I was alive,” he says simply. Hamilton stares at him, eyes bugging out of his head. Thomas suddenly feels uncomfortable. “Well, it was great seeing you four,” he says. “I'm going to tell my boss I’m ill and go home. Then, I'm going to quit my three jobs and move far far away from all of you.”

Hamilton blinks. “What? Why?!”

Thomas sighs, throwing the towel in his hands under the counter. “I've been avoiding the spotlight for twenty six years. I'm not coming forward and associating with any of you is not going to help me stay under the radar.”

“You? Avoiding attention?” Hamilton looks completely dumbstruck. Thomas nods.

“I told you, I was horrible. I don't want to be celebrated, not when people forget about the awful shit I did. So why don't you just let me live my life in peace?”

With that, Thomas slides out from behind the bar and walks back into the kitchen. He makes up some lie for his manager about being ill and clocks out. His manager takes his spot behind the bar, and Thomas slips out the back door. He doesn’t want to risk walking through the bar proper. Who knows what Hamilton will do.

Thomas walks out into the night air and heads around the building. A plan is already forming in his head. Call tomorrow off, apartment hunt… in Boston. Boston, or maybe somewhere out west. Yeah, I’ll go out west. Thomas leaves the sidewalk by the bar and starts to cross the parking lot. He just needs to get out of here-

“Thomas! Wait!” Hamilton calls from somewhere behind him. Thomas groans and picks up the pace, power walking away from the shorter man. He hears footsteps approaching from behind and Thomas nearly breaks out into a jog. “Thomas, just hold on a moment.”

“Go away Alexander,” Thomas mutters. He’s almost to the other side of the lot now.

“No, Thomas. We need to talk.”

“About what?” Thomas whirls on him, startling Hamilton who is almost too close to stop in time. He jumps backwards to avoid hitting Thomas straight on.

“About… about you!” Hamilton exclaims. Thomas raises one eyebrow.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Hamilton. I don’t want to have anything to do with you or myself, thanks.” Thomas takes a few steps backwards, hoping Hamilton won’t follow, that he’ll let Thomas go on his merry way.

“Look, Thomas, we need you.” Hamilton does follow, jogging slightly to keep up with Thomas’ long stride. He’s just as short as always. “Think about it! All the major founding fathers supporting one cause! We’ve already got Monroe and-”

“I don’t want to tell the world I’m the hypocritical fuck known as Thomas Jefferson.”

Hamilton huffs. “We all did shitty things. We do sitty things. We’re fucking human. You want a good example of a piece of shit, you’ve got one right here!” Hamilton motions up and down his body. “You do remember the Pamphlet, yeah?”

Thomas stops, feeling his fists clench at his sides. “That was my fault,” he admits. Hamilton shakes his head.

“It’s far from your fault. You didn’t make me cheat on Betsy and you didn’t make me publish the damn thing.”

“If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in myself, I wouldn’t have pushed you that far!” Thomas protests. Hamilton makes an exasperated noise.

“We were all wrapped up in ourselves,” Hamilton points out. “Everyone but Washington, seems like.”

For a second, they just stand there, looking at one another. Thomas sighs, and shakes his head. “Hamilton, I said no.”

“But-”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Thomas goes to turn around, but remembers one last thing. “Tell James ‘thanks’ for outing me by the way. Really appreciate that,” he mutters. And then he takes off again, stepping up the curb and onto the sidewalk. He doesn’t hear Hamilton chase him, and he thinks he’s in the clear. He turns to make his way down the street and catches a glimpse of Hamilton standing in the middle of the lot by himself. He’s looking at his fists, glaring at them like he’s trying to convince himself to punch himself in the face. Then he looks up.

“One last thing!” He calls. Thomas stops, lets out a breath, and turns to face the man.

“What, Hamilton?” He calls back. Hamilton opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it again as he takes off across the parking lot. There’s determination in every quick step he takes to Thomas.

“If you’re really going to leave, and I’m never going to see you again,” Hamilton begins, “there’s just one thing I need to do first.”

Thomas feels his brow furrowing, confusion spreading across his face. Hamilton just power walks as quickly as possible, right up into Thomas’ personal space. Before Thomas can step back or ask Hamilton what this is about, Hamilton grabs Thomas’ face in both hands, pops up on his toes, and kisses him.

Thomas’ eyes widen before sliding shut as he leans into it. Hamilton gasps underneath him and Thomas slides his hand into Hamilton’s smooth hair and finally, finally, gets the chance to do what he’s been wanting to do for a very long time. They stand there, together, on the street corner, breaking apart only for quick breaths.

“You everloving asshole,” Hamilton breathes when they finally run out of steam. They sit there, faces still so impossibly close. Thomas chuckles.

“Never thought that would ever happen,” Thomas admits. Hamilton falls back onto the flats of his feet and wraps his arms around Thomas.

“You were the one person I never had, but I wanted you the most,” Hamilton says, and Thomas’ breath catches in his throat. Slowly, as if in a dream, Thomas returns the hug. “Stay?” Hamilton asks, looking up at Thomas. “Just for a while. I… I won’t make you tell anyone who you are.”

Thomas looks down at Hamilton, the one man he had always said no to, and says yes.

Hamilton’s eyes light up and Thomas’ heart leaps at the sight. He leans down for another kiss, only to be interrupted by a cough. Both Thomas and Hamilton look up to find Lafayette, Madison and Washington standing in the lot.

“You were taking a very long time. We were…” Laf trails, eyes shining in wicked joy. “Worried something had happened.”

“Something certainly did happen, I’d say,” James interjects. Thomas chuckles but catches sight of Washington’s stony expression. Instantly, he freezes. Washington blinks, and then breaks out into a smile.

“It took you boys two hundred years. I’m not saying anything.”

Hamilton blinks, then starts to laugh, his shoulders shake in Thomas’ arms and Thomas squeezes tighter.

Thomas Jefferson was found in a bar parking lot, holding Alexander Hamilton in his arms.

[netmetic]

Eventual Consistency in Microservices and My Front Yard: Event-Driven Architecture vs. REST

Anyone who has ever done yard work as part of a team can understand the power of eventual consistency in microservices. This starts with understanding the fact that having multiple people work independently on specific tasks is the best way to complete a complex job, because the overall process doesn’t grind to a halt when something goes wrong with one task. While it might not be optimal for the rose bushes to remain untrimmed while everything else moves along, you know it – and therefore the whole job – will get done…eventually.

Aiming for eventual consistency in microservices works the same way: instead of insisting that microservices fire in a specific sequence and either complete or fail together, you let them run in parallel at their own speed, while making sure your architecture doesn’t let tasks fall through the cracks. If you have a solid, scalable architecture in place, you can be sure that eventually all the various tasks will be in the same (consistent) state of completion. This is in stark contrast from strong consistency, where all microservices operate under the same transaction and either commit or rollback at the same time.

Eventual consistency can take some getting used to, but it provides crucial flexibility in a world where many enterprises operate around the clock and rely on services that can’t be up and running 24/7. In the real world (and in microservices architecture) the concept of eventual consistency makes it easier to accommodate such systems and overcome obstacles.

You’ll face two key challenges when designing for eventual consistency:

You need a way to guarantee that nothing falls through the cracks, leaving some tasks done and some others permanently undone. Nothing looks worse than a yard with half-completed projects.

When things go wrong, you need a way to either resolve the problem right away or move on and try again later.

How do you overcome these two challenges? In microservices and yardwork alike, it’s all about communication.

REST vs. Microservices for Error Handling

Your successful implementation of eventual consistency in microservices largely depends on how your microservices interact with each other. In the microservices world, many organizations rely on synchronous, one-to-one interaction style, with one microservice directly calling another, usually via REST

Synchronous communication is simple and straightforward because you know exactly what will happen, in what order, and who is talking to whom—microservice A talks to microservice B, it’s right there in the code. However, REST struggles in a couple key areas:

First, REST doesn’t participate in transactions, so multiple microservices typically need to participate in a single XA transaction.

Secondly, REST doesn’t persist incoming messages. If something goes wrong, it can’t help you restore order. If things really go wrong, you could lose crucial information.

Since microservices don’t usually store state either, that lack of persistence is a challenging problem to overcome. In theory, it’s easy to implement a chain of synchronous tasks –each task leads immediately into the next task. But when something unexpected happens, watch out.

The other choice is to connect microservices asynchronously through an event-based architecture. Rather than having microservices directly interact with one another, Microservice A publishes an event to an event broker. The event broker then takes the event and distributes copies to individual queues watched by other interested microservices. Microservice B (and possibly C, D and E) pick up their copy of the event and do their thing.

Here’s how an event broker simplifies eventual consistency, and error handling in general:

By saving messages to disk and storing them until they’re no longer needed, an event broker relieves microservices of the need to persistent messages themselves.

In case of a disaster, event brokers can ensure that copies of your events exist in a failover data center for business continuity with no risk of lost information.

If one microservice goes down (because it runs out of memory, for example), another instance of that microservice can retrieve the same message from the queue.

Event brokers track who has successfully consumed each message, how many times each message has failed, and more. This makes error handling easy without the need to create long running transactions.

Event brokers always deliver events in the order in which they are received, which is important because some microservices need to operate on a first-come first-served basis.

To revisit my yardwork example, supervisor lead landscaping crews and won’t let each worker forget what they’re supposed to do as part of making your yard look more inviting. If some tasks aren’t getting done, you can be sure this supervisor will remind the lagging workers to wrap things up and take action if there’s some reason things aren’t happening.

Eventual Consistency, Error Handling, and my Front Yard

Sticking with that example, let’s analyze two approaches: RESTful and event-driven. First, let me explain the situation and the tasks (microservices) that needed to be completed.

Earlier this year, I sent a desperate email to my local garden center, appropriately entitled “Ugly Area by Front Step”. As I mentioned, the state of our front yard justifiably concerned my partner, because it looked like squatters were occupying our home. The reply from the garden center indicated they were shocked and dismayed by the images I had attached:

As a proud homeowner, I resolved to get things back on track, which in my mind involved three tasks:

1) repair the sprinkler system

2) spread mulch over everything dead, and

3) plant the world’s most vigorous plants.

It’s important to remember that a half-done job would look worse than if I had never started—it might take some time, but it all had to get done eventually.

In the meantime, the world had taken a turn for the worse; with the emergence of COVID-19, making a trip to the local garden store was no longer an option. This meant it would take longer for supplies to arrive, if they showed up at all. That threatened the entire project.

The RESTful approach to lawn maintenance

Let’s take some liberties and call my front yard situation a use case called “Fix Front Yard” and decompose my lawn maintenance into three distinct microservices called RepairSprinkler, SpreadMulch, PlantVigorousPlants, tied together into a front yard service called Do work. Like many enterprises, let’s link them together synchronously, like they would be with REST.

Imagine this scenario: In a stroke of luck, I’m able to successfully repair the sprinkler and spread the mulch. But then my luck then runs out. Border restrictions prevent all pachysandra plants (considered by many to be unkillable) from making it across the border. In the real world, the lawn threatens to remain permanently “half done.” In the microservice world, we’ve made our enterprise “inconsistent”.

Fighting back from an inconsistent state in a synchronous enterprise is a challenge. Here are a couple options:

Two-phase commit / XA transaction

Introduce local state logic and custom coding failure compensation

Return an exception back to the user

Wait for it to resolve itself, try again

Disaster ensues, events are lost

Let’s look at a couple of these in detail:

Two-Phase Commit Spanning Across Multiple Microservices

Some architects select a two-phase commit (XA transaction) that spans multiple microservices, in turn spanning databases and/or transaction monitors. For good reason, microservice dogma advocates avoiding two-phase commits for two reasons: First, even on a local network, they’re slow, which is death for the modern enterprise. Second, they add complexity to the implementation and can hold threads and connections open for extended periods of time.

In our lawn example, having a transaction span all three microservices means that the “exception” within PlantVigorousPlants, forces both RepairSprinkler and SpreadMulch to “roll back” their work. This is challenging and counterproductive: it is hard to remove mulch and why would you break the irrigation system again? But to establish strong consistency, that’s what it takes.

Local State Logic and Custom Coding

As an alternative to using two-phase commit, some architects choose to roll back changes by introducing local state logic and custom coding failure compensation. This again flies in the face of the microservice dogma that microservices should be stateless, and it may not even be possible if the exception scenario means you can’t reach a database or disk.

Returning an Exception & Idempotence

Another approach would be to keep the sprinkler repaired and the dead stuff mulched, but return an exception back to the user of “Do Work” indicating that the plants weren’t available so try again later. This approach works only if all the services are “idempotent”. In other words, the services can be re-run multiple times with the same result. If RepairSprinkler and SpreadMulch aren’t idempotent, then you’ll douse the sprinkler pipe with PVC glue and stack the mulch up to the roof line. It better be idempotent.

Even if you can finagle the necessary error handling, the elegance of your microservice architecture takes a major hit with a RESTful approach. Implementing complex error handling distracts coders from the business logic that should be at the core of a microservice. Instead of having a single purpose, the microservice needs to include logic about what service to call next and what to do if that service fails (or a service three down the line).

There’s gotta be a better way to fix a yard!

The Event-Driven Approach to Lawn Maintenance

Let’s keep the three distinct yard care microservices, but instead of tightly coupling them, let’s have them process asynchronously, as they’d be with event-driven architecture. The “Do Work” service still receives a REST request, but instead of initiating a chain of synchronous REST calls, it publishes an event to an event broker.

Rather than a brittle chain of microservices, each microservice now looks at the event and says “Ahhh, I know how I can help that situation.” However, once again, I complete the sprinkler repair and the mulching in short order, but the border holds up my unkillable plants, leaving the final stage of the project incomplete. Since the event broker handles state and persistence, we can leverage eventual consistency in microservices in this example. The event broker simply stores failed jobs, waiting for new inventory to arrive. This resolves several of the challenges with our REST example:

There isn’t a need for two-phase commit (XA transaction) that spans across multiple microservices. Eventual consistency, enabled by the event broker, assures that all of the tasks will be completed… eventually.

Instead of local state logic and custom coding failure compensation that must address multiple failure scenarios from downstream microservices, event-driven architecture insulates each microservice’s error handling. The SpreadMulch microservice takes care of mulching. The RepairSprinkler microservice takes care of the sprinkler. No need to keep state around within the microservice or include complex error handling that distracts from business purposes.

If there’s an error that may resolve itself shortly, throw the event on a queue until you’re ready to try again. Safe and sound. The microservice than can complete and release the thread. Eventually the microservice can retry it, hopefully with more success.

In a disaster, if you’ve used the disaster recovery options available from your broker (you did, right?) then the event broker replicates the events across data centers and are ready to go when you are.

Eventual Consistency in Microservices Makes Error Handling and Disaster Recovery Much Easier

As I said before, in domestic life and in microservices, communication makes all the difference. REST complicates error handling, and in the worst cases loses messages. That makes a post-apocalyptic front yard pale in comparison. Meanwhile, event-driven architecture eases you into a world of eventual consistency in microservices, which can make your error handing and disaster recovery much easier.

And if you’re wondering, my front yard is not yet suburban perfection, but it’s definitely getting better. I think our first post-COVID dinner party will be a roaring success.

The post Eventual Consistency in Microservices and My Front Yard: Event-Driven Architecture vs. REST appeared first on Solace.

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[topicprinter]

The 7 Fatal Mistakes a New Entrepreneur will FaceMy name is Franco Shaw and I own and operate a business with a rather interesting reputation. On one hand, our product kicks ass and we’ve been featured on Huffington Post, New York Times, The Today Show, Celebrities Worldwide and have even been in Drakes “KIKI” Video (Product placement).The interesting reputation comes from inventory fulfillment and terrible warehouse management. (Since of-shot this to a third party distributor to handle fulfillment)I thought I would write the 7 Fatal Mistakes that have tarnished my brands reputation over the years and help some new Entrepreneurs with situations that will arise for any new growing business.Being a WANT-repreneurWe all have that family member or friend who is constantly talking about their business idea or how they’re going to invent something. I’ve heard it from relatives countless times (especially after the financial success of my own invention). Once you “make it” everybody wants to hop on board and think of their own ideas/concepts that will take them from zero to hero, like they saw you go through. The fix to this is to stop talking about your ideas. There was a study published some time ago where they took 100 individuals and made 50 actually work on their project and 50 write down the ideas regarding their project. At the end of the 3 hour work period, the 50 individuals who wrote the ideas felt more accomplished then the 50 who actually worked on their idea. What does this mean? The mind can be tricky, dopamine and feeling accomplished can be obtained from procrastinating about your grand idea. The individuals who actually worked on their projects felt terrible afterwards, they realized just how much more work they had to accomplish in order to attain their goal within their business/idea. The takeaway from this is to stop talking to people about your ideas/business. Sit down, grab some coffee and start. I wish I did this way earlier.2. Plan Ahead... but not too far AheadNew Entrepreneurs like to plan for sales that haven’t yet been attained. Take Kickstarter for instance. When I launched Frank Anthony Shorts, my initial goal was $10,000. I was 18 years old at the time and I thought $10,000 was insane money. We ended up raising 10X that amount in 30 days and I was so excited but petrified at the same time. I knew just how much order fulfillment that would require. Not to mention customer support or inventory management. I had no mentors, (Nobody in my family is business savvy) so I had to learn the old fashioned way. Through failing and failing over and over again. If I could give some advice to new Entrepreneurs it would be to plan for tomorrow, not next year. Think about small goals first, scale to your first 10-100 clients/customers. Dreams are great, but stay focused with current events within the business. If you’ve yet to achieve a single customer, focus on attaining that single sale. It will help keep you focused on daily tasks and keep you grounded.3. Know Your IndustryGetting into Business is a lot of fun when done correctly. Especially when tackling a solution to a problem you’ve found. It’s your job as the founder to familiarize yourself with everything you can within that niche. If you’re in the landscaping business for instance, research the top landscaping companies in the area. Read customer reviews for those businesses. What are they doing right/wrong. Why are they the best landscaping business? What can you do better? This goes for every industry. We’re in an era unlike any other for business ventures, a small change within an industry can make you a multi-millionaire in no time. My advice would be to know the industry inside and out so you’re prepared for changes, new advancements within the niche and your competition’s strongpoints/weaknesses. For instance, Landscaping is an old-fashioned telephone/Google Ads business. Create an app in your area where people can input their addresses and pay a monthly fee/one-time fee for landscaping services without having to speak to somebody on the phone to schedule the appointment. Just an idea, but if I researched landscaping I’m sure I could find some flaws that can be profitable to fix.4. Love What You DoThis one is a tough pill to swallow for me. I don’t love swimwear nor do I love my job realistically. I find small pockets within my job that I enjoy (designing, product development, meeting suppliers, traveling) However if you we’re to tell me in high school that I would become a millionaire from Swimwear I would have never believed you. You have to be passionate about what you’re going to get involved with, because at the end of the day when you’re tired and don’t feel like working anymore, it’s the passion that will carry you through. If you truly love your business you will never work a day in your life (corny but true). So get involved with something you will like to do. I’m not saying make your hobbies your business, I mean if you’re a people person and love meeting new people and traveling, find a niche business where your passions are met. My personal favorite thing to do is to find solutions to problems and develop products/businesses around them. Pretty broad, which is why I am constantly finding new things to work on. You’ll make more money this way too, trust me.5. Stop comparing yourself to other EntrepreneursAnother big mistake I see new Entrepreneurs making is giving up early because we’re currently living in a world where social media consumes the masses into believing bulls***. We’re so full of gurus and Entrepreneurs who claim things that can’t be proven to sell you a “course” or an “e-book” that will put all the puzzle pieces together to make you rich! …. Right, complete bullshit. Stop comparing yourself to the 18 year old Dropshipping Expert in his Dads Maserati. Start small and build your business/brand from the ground up. Comparison is the thief of joy, so keep your head up and away from accounts/people who make you feel less valuable. You have your own strong-suits that they don’t. Just. Keep. Grinding.6. Pursue a Healthy LifestyleIt seems cliche, but I know so many Entrepreneurs who are super successful but have terrible eating/exercise habits. Lets face it, when you’re looking at the cream of the crop Entrepreneurs little to none are physically fit/taking their health as a priority (Aside from Tim Ferris and many more) I’m talking about those 9-5 Execs who are pounding back 3-4 Whiskeys a night due to stress/meeting Quarterly earnings. Start small, drink more water, start running/jogging, hit the gym. The best clothing you can wear is your own body. I never worked out because I wanted to “workout my wallet” instead. (Grant Cardone said that all the time… yikes) Here’s the deal, when you’re physically fit, It showcases dedication, discipline, hard-work and commitment without saying a word. Now that's somebody who has the fundamentals to become successful in life. It’s all balance, those gym bros who spend 4 hours a day working out have the wrong idea. Just start a daily exercise routine, you’ll appreciate it in your 50’s.7. Make time for Family and FriendsMental health is so important for Entrepreneurs to truly succeed. When I was making Frank Anthony I was so depressed because I cornered myself in my room all day and worked non-stop. In reality I could have done the exact same whilst maintaining a balanced mental state. Depression can be a scary thing and it will play into your work 100%. Set time aside in the week to unwind from your project/business. I find when I’m out with friends or family I may have sparks of inspiration that play into business ideas that end up making me more money then if I was to just work that entire day. Sparks of inspiration can come from anywhere, so get out there. Afterall, I came up with the idea for Hydrophobic Nanotechnology Swimwear at a Prom “After Party”. I jumped into the pool and came out soaking wet for the rest of the night, I thought “there’s gotta be a fabric out there that will dry fast…” Here I am 6 years later.Overall, the messages written above are guides that I find to be helpful/would have been if I had read them earlier. As a first time Entrepreneur in my family I’ve had to fall flat on my face to learn how to build a business (and I’m still failing today). But one thing is for certain, and that is everyday I try to be better than I was yesterday. In business, in life, and in figuring out why the hell we’re here in the first place. Entrepreneurship is a rocky road, but with the right shoes you’ll be fine and will have the adventure of a lifetime. So buckle up and get riding!Thanks and I hope this helps.Frank@FrankyShaw@FrankAnthonySwimwear

[moon-dust-lust]

I write bad stand up comedy so thanks

So nice of everyone to come tonight, on a good day I have no more than four people that look at me at one time, so this is definitely making me severely uncomfortable. I'm only 20 years old which means just like every other 20 year old I cry in the shower and use tinder. I at first thought of tinder as a great way to pick up prey as a serial killer. I watched criminal minds a kid and I watch FOX news so every predator showcased on those forums are white dudes. I am also from eugene oregon so pretty much all of tinder looks like the milk aisle. Some are organic, some are fat free and others are being fought over by two different women who will send you death threats over facebook and try and sabotage your relationship. It is just great. Anyways, I recently decided as an in debt 20 year old with too may bills to pay and a customer service job that I'm already dead inside, so if I died it'd be pretty much how it is now except I would no longer have obligations and all the guys from my high school would finally pay attention to me. My first experience was just as about as fucked as it gets. He was this hot guy, six foot, covered in tattoos. He had just moved from utah, or illinois or somewhere else unimportant. He asked me for my snapchat, which ws already a flag because he was 26 and no one except someone over the age of 12, a soccer mom that's had a little too much wine, or a celebrity uses it; but I let it slide. So he's sending me pics and it looks like he's outside. He's sitting in a tent and so I'm like, "oh are you camping? that's fun. Don't let me keep you from anything". He's all, "No I live in a tent". Come to find out he had no job, no car and was living in a tent on someone's property. He was a homeless man. Now, how I found hopefully the only homeless man on tinder is beside me, but the weirdest part is how he had a phone still and also how he thought he could pick up chicks. Like did he think as a date i would let him shower at my place? Or was he thinking my ass would get fully dressed up in make up and heels just to spend the night in his tent? Would he make me bring my own firewood and sleeping bag? My own can of beans?  My experiences with men are pretty much summed up by this interaction alone. My first date ever, I showed up at this guy's house and it was infested with rabbits. I am talking ten or twelve. Then he took me up to his room to watch a movie, door open because this was high school and I had never even seen a condom before and his mom was downstairs watching something with jennfier aniston in it. His room was COVERED in pictures of his ex girlfriend. Pictures she drew of them, gifts she gave him, pictures of them together etc. SO, I was so uncomfortable but I was thinking it was probably just because he was too lazy to take them down. I was so wrong. So, so very wrong. Let me preface this by saying this was my first date, EVER. I had no idea what it was supposed to be like. He was a quarter back and he was all in shape and tan and that was pretty much all I knew about it. He had a really cliché rich white name and he was one of the only sophomores with a car and no curfew. He was a real bad boy. So after my date I got approached by his ex girlfriend at a party. She then told me that he was sending pictures of me while I wasn't looking to her and telling her how great of a time he was having and how he didn't need her. This was my first god damn date. I just cannot believe the progress I have made in the 5 years I have been dating. I never dated in middle school because i wore blue eyeliner and had a perm in the late 200s. I was really setting myself up to fail to begin with. I had one relationship that lasted three years. There is this funny thing about guys where they start out pretty normal and then after they really get comfortable they start to cheat on you and go crazy. It is just the weirdest thing. It's like the gremlins except instead of not feeding them after midnight you provide the with emotional stability and all the love in your hard. Big mistake ladies, Am I right? This guy I dated was so much fun. There was one time he told me I was absolutely perfect. He would tell me "Everything about you is perfect, except you could use a boob job". look, I will be the first to say i have the littlest titties in america, but I'll be damned if you dont appreciate them. They are like one piece of chocolate or the very back row of seats of a concert. You're just glad you got a little taste of your favorite thing, okay? I am like the bronze medal you get at a sporting event. Bitch you should just be happy you got any trophy at all. This guy was a real whackadoodle. He would cheat on me and then not let me go out with dudes, or ladies, bisexual pride woot woot, because he thought i would cheat to get back at him. But jokes on him because nobody likes me and I also didn't have any friends. I ended up breaking up with him because he was obviously terrible and he decided to stalk me. All i could think about when he would harass my family and try and show up at my school and had his parents blow up my phone is, "now you miss my lil tities?" who was gonna pay for all this shit in the first place? where did he think i was gonna get the fucking money for this? I am a broke college student, I drive a car that sounds like an eighty year old at the back of a movie theater coughing and I work at a restaurant where everyone is so stoned, it's like I'm at in the middle of portland on a saturday night. I go to the university of oregon. A very fun school, full of people who have no interest in talking to me. In their defense half the time I have my headphones in and I am crying so I guess it's just in everyone's best interest to not get into it. I am a psychology major, which I call the boring white girl major. I got into it to become a sex therapist, mostly because I am not having any and really want to find out if there's a book on how to make people not continuously reject you, but also because sex is a hard topc and I talk about it like a human urban dictionary. The worst part about the university is the talking. There was one time I had a 200 person anthropology class and these girls from a sorority who all obviously took the class together to cheat and not do anything ever, were describing their friend tiffany or gemma or some other rich fake tanned name's vomit. The color, texture, smell, everything. They were analyzing what she had eaten the previous morning and all the alcohol she mixed and all I could think was, " if you spent half as much time talking about your friend samantha's vomit as you would listening you wouldn't be failing this class and self medicating with alcohol to the point where you throw up because youre a bunch of clemintine sharp nailed looking green beans". Like i pay too much to listen to you explain the thong you bought and how it chafes your butthole when you dry hump alex from the frat across the street who is also fucking tina with the fake nose and even though he gave you clamydia six months ago, you trust him now you know? I own one bra and one pencil. I am wearing two completely different socks, one is a knee high and the other is an ankle one. Whenever I am hungry i dont go to sushi, I go to bed. So please Gretchen from Bitch, Bump &grind and beyond stop and let me at least get a C so I can land a job that makes me 12 dollars an hour and I can be poor in a different setting. I work full time and go to school. I am not like most millenials. I don't have time to eat avocado toast or catch HPV. At my little restaurant in junction city, the staff is absolutely questionable. I was the first girl there who was single and under the age of 40, so naturally I became bate for every man in society you hope you never run into in life. The first was our host. He looked like bowzer from mario if he were a white middle class man. He was shaped like a tear drop, so his head was small and oddly shaped and the rest of him just got wider and rounder as you went down. He always wore the same button down shirt, I think to try and impress me, but like it was his only button down shirt. Anyways, he is what I call the lingerer. If you are a woman who has ever had a man like you at work, you know exactly what I am talking about. He would follow around, but like at a creepy slow distance and he would stare at me until he thought i was looking and then looked away. He would also reach over or around me just so he could be close to me. It's weird and painful to watch. He also asked my sister, who also works there, if i was a lesbian because i wasnt immediately interested in him. Let me digress for a moment and say that just because a woman rejects you doesnt mean she loves only vagina. It usually means you arent a good person, or she just doesnt wanna date, or she has a boyfriend already, or you have no common interests, or she doesnt want to mix work with her personal life or maybe she has something personal against blonde guys, white guys, guys with glasses, she dated someone with your name and its weird, she has a lot of issues with touching, you have weird hands, you have bad breath, you are bad at your job, she is asexual, or THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO REASON SHE JUST DOESNT LIKE YOU AT ALL EVER. Men are so vapid about that sometimes. Anyways, he gave me a cash tip off one of my tables and I, trying to be civil was all, "oh i love free money thank you" trying to relate to him because he seemed like the type to bring a gun to work and I really wasnt in the mood to get shot or followed out to my car so i gotta keep is civil you know? so apparently you cannot be friends with sexual predators because then he gets all close and whispers in my ear "is that how I get in your pants, by throwing money at you?". The tip he gave me was only five dollars. If is ass thought having sex with me would cost only five dollars, he has no idea how bad inflation is or how much i spend on amazon a month. Also, even with my little titties and cellulite, no amount of money would let me fuck a guy who looked like barnie the dinosaur if he were a white pale ghost. I have very low standards, but they exist for sure. somewhere. deep down. The next guy i had was this old cook. he was 65 and he cooked in the morning. His wife was obviously dead, in his basement or both because he was always saying nasty things to me. He told me that if he were forty years younger he would hire me as his kid's babysitter so he could fuck me. He also told me he was extremely attracted to me and terrified of me at the same time. He one time came up to me and asked me what i had in my front seat because i was hiding something under a coat. He has rotted out teeth and children older than me. It is men like those guys that make me think, "am I really that bad to the point this is as good as it gets?

[rachelfinder]

Payoff

It can be REALLY easy as an entrepreneur to feel exhausted. You put in tons of effort, you spend hours working unpaid, you stay up late trying to figure out how you screwed up your website after you installed that last plugin, you find yourself tweaking marketing copy while you’re supposed to be eating breakfast, you’re on the phone with your internet provider to restore service while a deadline is barreling down on you...

Yeah. #entrepreneurlife is not for everybody. Sure, it’s not a 9-5 job with a boss hovering over your shoulder. That’s pretty awesome, don’t get me wrong. But entrepreneurship is no walk in the park, either. 

Gary Vaynerchuk like to talk about “clouds and dirt,” the difference between the why you’re in business and the awesome stuff you get to do with it, versus the daily level grinding of doing the nitty-gritty, the stuff that’s boring, that’s tiring and just plain ain’t worth sharing on Instagram or Snapchat. A lot of people who jump into entrepreneurship love the clouds and hate the dirt. But you only get somewhere when you’re willing to get stuff under your fingernails. And sometimes, you gotta spin your wheels in the mud before you get enough purchase to surge forward.

Often in the slow level grinding of building a business, you’re building systems that can help automate the daily process. The set up of these systems takes enormous amounts of time and energy, but the payoff comes later when they’re percolating along, freeing up time for you to focus on other details.

One of my systems, a sales funnel, has been in process for the past two years. Literally, since the day I set up my business, getting a way to gather email leads, exchange value, and seed the start of a successful client relationship has been at the top of my to-list. It’s been a process of constant iteration. There was content to test, ad responses to evaluate, lead magnet development that flopped. Then going back to the drawing board, starting over with new content, more testing, more designing, more failing.

The hard part is that during this iteration process, there’s the other stuff of doing business to do. Stuff like networking and getting more clients and making products and somehow keeping enough cash on hand to make that all happen. Anybody who thinks having their own business means all the free time to do what you want believes a lie. Entrepreneurship will eat every moment of your day away. And probably most of your nights, too.

But. (Yes. There is a “but”.) 

But if you hang in there, and if you do the work, and if you slog through the mud, and it you grit your teeth and haul ass, you can move a mountain. You can bring something new into the world. And you can sometimes get a glimpse that all your hard work is paying off.

This summer I published a book on video editing. All the iterations of my lead magnet had led to a consistently downloaded product. Email sign-ups started trickling in. All the components of my sales funnel were ready. After finishing a big project for a client at the middle of September, I finally took the time to assemble everything in the right order:

Social media follower or website visitor decides to sign up for my email in exchange for my lead-magnet. 

Confirmation page prompts them to download lead-magnet and offers them a chance to purchase my book for a bit cheaper than they would on Amazon. This converts a follower into a lead.

New lead in my funnel purchases my book and I send it to them. They just became a customer.

My new customer gets content delivered to their inbox infused with consistent examples of why working with my company is in their best interests. Sales at work.

In time, this customer will make a larger purchase, becoming a full-paying client of my company. 

And today, the first three steps of this process worked like clock-work. I got a new lead yesterday and they bought my book. New customer. Overnight.

It feels like magic, but it’s actually the result of hard work and effort. And the reality is that ANYBODY CAN DO THIS, if you’re willing to work your ass off to get it. There are no short-cuts in building a business. And as Gary likes to say, you better love the dirt because you’re gonna spend a lot of time there.