#hard to tell but the blast that fucked up mind also took a tooth and fucked up his bottom canine

[higgs-the-god]

what if they were xogs too........................

[sammygvfslut]

i like you a latte | s. kiszka

Summary: Words cannot espresso how much you mean to Sammy Kiszka.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Hey besties!!! this is my first ever sam fic, and i really hope you guys enjoy it! it’s super cheesy so beware of some tooth-rotting fluff ahead. any and all feedback is appreciated <3

Loud chattering and the sounds of espresso machines hissing and whistling filled the cafe. Every few seconds or so when a new customer walked in, a soft ringing above the door rang. Glancing at the clock, you sighed as it read 7am. Way too early for your liking. You wished to be back in bed under the covers with your cat Joey snuggling. Plus, the cold weather made it even harder for you to get out of bed every morning. Damn you, winter.

“Good morning.” A voice said suddenly, startling you as you slightly jumped. “Whoops, didn’t mean to scare you there for a sec.”

Turning around at the voice, your heart fluttered and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “G-Good morning, Sam! Nope, didn’t scare me at all. I was just uh...focusing very hard and you caught me off guard.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, his own lips curving and flashing that beautiful grin. God, he made you melt. You took a quick chance to admire his appearance for the day, luscious brown locks pulled back into a low bun with a few stray pieces framing his face, and he wore a slightly oversized brown grandpa looking sweater. He exuded true fall energy today and all you wanted to do was snuggle with him watching a movie while sipping on hot chocolate. “Right. Focusing on what exactly? Staring at the register?”  

“S-Sure. Yes, the register.” Totally not him instead. “Um, I realized it turned off right now and my mind blanked to turn it back on.”

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder as he laughed, his touch leaving a wave of goosebumps to rise out of your skin. “You’re so cute. I’ll leave you to that then, but if you need help trying to get the register to turn back on again, let me know.” And with that, he sent you a wink and turned on his heel away to start on the customers orders.

Alright, alright. So maybe early shifts weren’t as bad as you thought thanks to your insanely charming co-worker. Sam and you had been working together for the past year, and almost instantly you started falling for him. He welcomed you with open arms and he was a great help when it came to your training. Your co-workers were nice too, but Sam took that extra step in making sure you were comfortable with what you were doing. If you made a mistake and were freaking out about it, he somehow knew the way to calm you down. He was too precious and good for this cruel world. And most of all, out of your league too.

With his dashing looks and amazing personality, you just knew there was no way he’d ever feel the same about you. Except, any time you’d voice that thought to any of your friends at work, they’d tell you you’re crazy and that he likes you too. Apparently they caught on to the signs more than you did, which wasn’t a shocker considering that you’d have no clue if a guy was interested in you unless he blatantly confessed. So, trying to figure out hints was completely pointless for you.

“Uh oh, she’s deep in thought,” one of your friends/co-workers, Danny, teased. He also happened to be Sam’s best friend, and current band mate since the pair are in a band with Sam’s older twin brothers. “I bet I can guess what, or who you were thinking about.”

“Don’t even say it,” you warned with a finger, “He’s literally four feet away from us—”

“So?” Danny rolled her eyes with his arms folded. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel? Come on, it’s been almost a year now. What’s the worst that can happen if you confess?”

“He can hear me.” You stared blankly at him, shaking your head. “Absolutely not though, Danny. I will not embarrass myself from the humiliation I’d have to face from his rejection.”

Danny groaned frustratedly, placing his hands on both your shoulders and shaking them. “You’re so hopeless! Y/N, how many times do the guys and I have to tell you he likes you too!” He raised his voice a little louder than necessary which accidentally caught the attention of almost everyone in the cafe. Sam included unfortunately. Danny’s eyes widened, silently cursing under his breath. “Carry on, everyone.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Danny wasn’t lying when he mentioned about the guys agreeing that Sam likes you too. Every time you came over Josh’s apartment and Sam was there he’d find any little excuse to have his arm around you or teasing you constantly. You’d shake it off that he was just treating you like a friend would, but of course the guys would disagree with you.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Danny told you sternly, “But for now, and don’t make it obvious, but Sam’s looking at you.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he winked and stepped to the next register before greeting a new customer and taking their order.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you slowly looked over your shoulder in Sam’s direction. You saw his head quickly turn and finish off the drink in front of him. Your cheeks burned at this and tried taking deep, slow breaths to calm yourself down. Didn’t work much, but as a new customer waved and told you their order, your breathing turned back to normal.

On the other end of the counter, Sam was currently freaking the hell out from what he heard a few minutes ago between you and Danny. He didn’t mean to, but he also wasn’t that far from either of you. Plus, Danny wasn’t the best at keeping his voice low. He had a strong feeling he knew you were talking about him, and for that reason alone he overflowed the cup he was pouring into and made a mess. He cursed under his breath and wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head.

You caught sight of this and rushed to his side, grabbing a cloth from under the sink and started wiping the sticky counter. Sam was certain his cheeks were tomato red from his embarrassment, making a complete fool of himself for not paying attention to what he was doing. More so focusing on your conversation and your damn smile from earlier. You weren’t the only one here with a crush.

“T-Thanks, Y/N.” Sam chuckled nervously, throwing the cup in the trash and tossing the drink pitcher he held in the sink. “I’m normally not this much of a dumbass.”

“I’m not too sure about that one, Kiszka.” You teased lightly with a grin. “It happens, don’t worry,” you assured. “I’m just glad it was cold tea you spilled and not steaming coffee. I’d hate for you to get a third degree burn. That happened to me once, don’t recommend it.”

“Didn’t I drive you to the hospital for that?” he asked. “I think that might’ve happened a few months ago.”

Your eyes widened at the memory. “Oh shit, you’re right. God, I’m still so sorry I had to drag you into that.”

Sam shook his head, lips curving and cheeks no longer flushed. “For the hundredth time, stop apologizing about that, Y/N. You know you can count on me for anything, so of course I didn’t mind driving you to the hospital. I remember even blasting some ABBA on the way over there so you’d have something else to focus on instead of the pain you endured.”

You smiled at the memory. “Didn’t we also go out for ice cream afterwards?”

He nodded, lightly rubbing his arm. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun. I mean, I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his last few words, blinking slowly. “O-Oh.”

Oh? That’s all you have to say? Nice one, Y/N.

Sam’s heart dropped. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t talking about him after all. Maybe it was Danny or one of his brothers that you had a crush on and he was mistaken about it. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole right about now. Being anywhere but here sounded splendid to him.

“Y-Y/N, I—“

“Ihavefunwhenimwithyoutoo,” you muttered all too quickly, and poor Sam barely even understood what you said. He didn’t have the chance to ask you to repeat yourself because you quickly walked away to the back and he was left with a tug at his chest, frowning.

Within the next few days after Sam’s tea spill, literally, things between you and him became...awkward. Something went off in him to become even more clumsy than normal and forget everything he’s ever known when you’re near him. He’d get flustered, stuttering a lot, messing up orders, dropping dishes, and nearly tripping all the time. He hated it so much and wished he could just muster up the courage and apologize for being such an idiot and confess his feelings to you. Even during your hangouts with the guys, Sam and you wouldn’t interact as much and honestly you were well aware you were being super childish and immature about the situation. Sam did too, and he needed to snap the fuck out of it.

The next few days at work Sam would ignore Danny’s little side comments about his immaturity and continued working in silence. For the rest of his shift he didn’t talk much to anyone other than the customers. He wanted to talk to you when he had the chance, but then he’d quickly back out and walk the opposite direction.

He couldn’t figure out why it was so futile for him to just grow a sack and tell you he likes you. He’d never gone through this struggle before. Then again, as cheesy as it sounded, the other girls he’d asked out in the past couldn’t compare to you. Never in a million years, and maybe he was too afraid that he didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.

Nearing closing that same day, it was only you, Sam, and Danny. The flow of customers died down and not many people came in towards the end of the night which you were grateful for. It finally gave you the chance to relax a bit and start cleaning things up ahead of time so you wouldn’t have to stay after. Joey and a nice warm bath were waiting for you at home.

While Sam decided on working the register and you and Danny would clean, he grabbed your arm and led you into the back.

“What are you two still doing not dating each other or talking?! It’s been way too long now, Y/N. And since it’s only us three tonight, you have no other choice. Come on, I know you can’t take this any longer, and he can’t either. I can take over the register for a bit while you and him talk.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating his offering. As incredibly thankful as you were for his help, you were also scared shitless of the possible outcome. Perhaps it was finally time though that you say fuck it and say what you needed to. You couldn’t go on for any longer to keep your feelings bottled up inside. Maybe, just maybe he might feel the same way, and by God you hoped that would be the case.

Inhaling, you nodded slowly and made your way back to where you were. Your eyes searched for Sam and saw he was busy making a drink, except there was no one else here besides you, him and Danny. It could’ve been a drink for him, so you shrugged this off and went towards the sink to start washing the dishes.

A few moments later, Sam cleared his throat from behind you. “H-Hey Y/N, so um, I know the créme brûlée latte is your favorite, and I thought I’d make you one. You seemed really stressed and busy today and I wanted to try to cheer you up. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart swelled at his generosity and your cheeks burned as you felt his gaze burning into you, his palms soaking from nervousness. “Sam, you didn’t have to do that for me.”

He shrugged casually, a small smile on his lips and his cheeks tinted a light pink. “It’s okay, I wanted to. And I uh, tried my best on the art. Hope you like it.”

Raising a brow, your gaze dropped on your cup and your eyes widened as you saw what he was referring to. A small coffee cup with the words I like you a latte around it.

“It’s true,” Sam chewed on his bottom lip while running his fingers through his hair. “I really like you Y/N, and I’m so sorry for acting like such an idiot these last few days around you. I don’t know what came over me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you much either.”

Setting your cup on the counter, you took a step closer to him and cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb softly against his soft skin. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Sam. I’m sorry for not talking to you too, as well as for making a fool of myself. I tend to do that around someone I like.”

Finally, the realization dawned on Sam as a wide grin pulled at his lips. “Glad we’re on the same boat.”

“I-Is it alright if I kiss you?” he asked shyly, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you.

You giggled. “You don’t even have to ask, loverboy.” You playfully rolled your eyes and cupped his other cheek before connecting his lips with yours.

A smirk pulled at Danny’s lips as he glanced at the two of you, shaking his head. Josh and Jake owed him $20 now. 

It was about damn time that Sam and you finally espresso’d your love for each other. 

tagging these lovely folks bc they helped inspired me and their work is amazing <3 @godlygreta​ / @flowervanfleet​ / @dharma-divine​

[heybeybey]

Kismet

Braindumped this yesterday so now you have this fic.

Thanks to @sleeperswakewriting and @anya-grace. They didn't really push me to write this. It's more like 2 people liked the idea and I'm weak for Rivetra so here you go.

Still dedicating this to the two of you for supporting my need for lolo (grandpa) levi + roller skating petra!! 🖤🧡

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Genre: Fluffy romance!!! Tooth-rotting fluff so sweet that I'm gonna write heartbreaking angst next to balance things out.

Summary: The ginger-haired waitress skates over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her. She stops beside his table and gives him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all.

Or: 50s Diner Waitress! Petra x Retired Soldier! Levi Modern AU

[Also, if you wanna listen to the songs Levi was forced to listen to in this fic, here's the playlist.]

--

Sweeter than candy on a stick Huckleberry, cherry or lime If you had a choice he'd be your pick But lollipop is mine

If he's going to listen to another most-likely-already-dead-woman belt out a cheery love song, Levi's sure he's going to finally pop a vein. He grumbles as the next track plays, grateful that this one is more on the mellow side so he can actually focus on his work.

Old school music on loop aside, Kismet Diner is actually pretty decent. They serve good food for an establishment that he thinks is trying way too hard to be a blast-from-the-past monstrosity.

Levi found the place by accident when he was out trying to find a place to work. He didn't feel like spending another evening inside his apartment and thought a change in scenery might help him decompress his mind.

Fucking codes just won't write itself, he thinks.

After wheeling himself around his new neighbourhood for a while, he found that this diner was the only thing open. Having no other choice, he found a spot for himself and settled in with his laptop.

He didn't expect that he'll be returning every night though.

(And that he'd be willing to listen to these cheesy retro love songs every time.)

From behind his laptop, he sneaks another glance at the bubbly server.

He distinctly remembers his first night here. A ginger-haired waitress skated over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her, as he settles in his chosen seat. She stopped beside his table and gave him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all, he recalls thinking at that time.

It took him a moment or two to finally answer her and she diligently noted down his order. She flashed him one last smile after she promised that she'll bring his food over in five minutes.

He spent those five minutes feeling like a real creep because his eyes never left her.

It's been a few days since then and he watches her now as she picks up the leftovers from the table in front of his. She wishes a customer goodbye, and skates back to the counter.

"Petra! Think you can extend your shift a little bit? Rico called in sick," a voice from the counter calls out.

"Sure! Her shift's until 1 am right?" The ginger, Petra, replies.

And that's how Levi found himself staying at Kismet Diner until 1 am.

- - -

I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny You came along and you moved me honey I've changed my mind, this love is fine

"I think the customers like this song but I can't seem to place what the title is..." The rush hour has since lulled when Petra wonders out loud to the other waitress who's still in the kitchen.

He remembers this one. The older guys back in the military would belt it out when they're drunk as fuck on days when they're allowed to have a break. Frankly, it gave him a headache every time and he doesn't know how Erwin and all the other soldiers were able to take Pyxis seriously after his one-man concert.

He speaks up without thinking.

"Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis."

"Yes, that's the title!" Her eyes light up and she fully spins to face him. "You're into oldies music?"

Levi blinks, and for the first time in his life, he found his throat dry because she's finally talking to him fuck fuck fuck what will he say what was the question again.

"Uh... yeah, I guess?"

Wait, what?

She skates over to his table, a wide smile on her face. "That's so cool! I don't meet a lot of people my age who's still into the oldies. Even my dad teases me about it."

"Oh..."

"What's your name? I'm Petra, by the way. But I think you already know that," she grins sheepishly, pointing to her name plate. "I know I shouldn't really be talking to you but you're here every night so I thought it might be great to get to know our regular customers more."

He blinks up to her, trying to get a hold of himself before he fucks this up even more.

"Levi."

"Nice to meet you, Levi." She looks at her wristwatch and her surroundings, probably checking if there are more tables to cater to, before turning back to him. "My shift's over but I think you stay up late here, right? Mind if I sit with you? I haven't eaten dinner yet and I'd appreciate the company."

He gives her a shrug as his approval and she beams another smile before disappearing back to the kitchen. Petra comes back after a few minutes, still in her pink waitress uniform but without the cap and she also changed her skates to normal cream flats. She brought along a small bag and she unpacks it after sitting down at the chair in front of him.

What the hell is happening?

"Don't get me wrong. I love the food here but it's a bit overpriced if you ask me," she says as brings out her lunchbox. "Don't tell Nanaba that though."

"Wouldn't your boss fire you for randomly inviting yourself at a customer's table?"

"Nanaba? We go way back high school. She's the one who's pushing me to take breaks actually."

They sit in silence for awhile after that. Levi watches as she munches on her sandwich while he takes another sip of his coffee. Not knowing what to say, he just turns back to his laptop to type away. Petra, on the other hand, seems like a great conversationalist.

"So... what's your favorite?" She speaks up after having few bites into her dinner.

"Favorite?"

"Song? There's a lot of classics that deserve attention but I'm curious which one caught your attention."

Fuck.

His mind comes up blank until the image of his blonde best friend came to mind. Erwin knows about this old school shit. Not surprising because he's more ancient than Levi is.

What was that song Eyebrows belted out again when they went on that dreaded karaoke night? He recalls Erwin singing something after his cheating long-distance girlfriend finally broke up with him when they were allowed to call their loved ones.

"Mr. Lonely by Bobby Vinton stuck with me." He replies, again without thinking. She laughs out loud the moment the words were out his mouth and Levi frowns in indignation. "Oi, if you're going to laugh at my shitty taste in music then you can get your ass off my table."

"No, no." Petra wipes away a tear from her laughing. "I think it fits your grumpy 'get-off-my-lawn' grandpa vibe. What, someone broke your heart recently?"

"Grumpy grandpa?" Pretty smile and bubbly personality aside, he's starting to think this woman's a bit rude.

- - -

He's still back the next day though.

"Good evening, sir! Will you be having the usual?" Petra greets. He gives her a slight nod before wheeling himself to his spot. He watches as she flurries around during the dinner rush hour, skating from one table to another. She never loses her smile, even when one lady was being a bitch after Petra delivers the wrong milkshake.

Unlike the previous nights where he's content with just sneaking glances at the gorgeous waitress, Levi spends the next few hours gathering the courage to make a move.

Petra stayed in his table until closing time last night and he listened as she babbled on about all their menu offerings and how she likes creating the milkshakes and the coffee the best.

He'd like to think that they're somehow acquainted enough for him to maybe ask her out.

A look a-there, here she comes There comes that girl again Wanted to date her since I don't know when But she don't notice me when I pass

The booming music is only making him nervous, the cheesy lyrics is pissing him off and fuck, he really wants to punch the music player off right now.

Once Petra finally skates over to him though, setting down his usual black coffee and clubhouse sandwich, he takes his chance.

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Sir?" She blinks at him and he almost melts as he stares at her huge amber eyes.

"Uhm... you mentioned that you have Fridays off," he starts. "There's this fair that will be opening tomorrow night and I thought you might be into that. First day's the best time to go too while the crowd hasn't shit on the place yet."

The more he hears his words, the more he wants to kick himself with his still working leg.

He notices that a faint blush started to color her cheeks, eyes shifting down before she gives him a shy smile.

"I'd love to go with you, Levi."

- - -

"Wow, you..."

"Were able to hit them all?" He gears up to shoot the last can. "I was in the military."

"No wonder you have that cool scar!"

His eyes darkens a little bit at that, mind taking him back to the career-ending moment that led to where he is now.

Petra seems to notice his reaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine. It's been almost a year." He cuts her off. This day's supposed to be fun and he's not allowing his PTSD to take over his chances of charming a girl (which was already low at his current state, he thinks).

"That's amazing, son!" The guy manning the booth approaches him. "Feel free to pick any prize for the lady."

Petra looks down to him for approval, asking if she can pick a prize or if he'd rather pick one since it was him who won after all. He gives her a small smile, gesturing towards the display of prizes.

He watches as Petra buzzes around in excitement, deciding on whether she should get the elephant plushie or this creepy clown plushie that caught her attention for some godforsaken reason. (He pushes her to get the elephant one instead.)

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day When it's cold outside I've got the month of May I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way

"Vanilla is still the best."

"You're boring," she retorts. "How can you only try mint chocolate just once in your life? You get refreshing and sweet dark chocolate at the same time. It's the best combination out there!"

"Yeah, if you like eating your toothpaste," he retorts back.

"Come on, just give it a chance?"

They're settled on a bench right now, his wheelchair parked next to the seat. They take this opportunity to have a conversation while they finish their ice cream.

He learns that she's currently finishing up a nursing degree and that she's working part-time at Kismet Diner to fund her studies. She has an obsession with mint chocolate ice cream, and that she truly loves skating outside of work because she also does roller derby on the weekends (with her boss Nanaba and another girl named Nifa). She's an only child and her dad currently lives in the countryside.

Levi tells her a little bit about himself too and he's glad that she respects his reserved nature. He doesn't tell her about his time in the military, only that he used to be a captain for a few years before he left. He also shared that he used to pursue a degree in Computer Science before dropping out halfway through to join the military. Since he left, his unfinished degree has been useful since he was able to find consistent freelance opportunities as a web developer.

That seems like the perfect job for someone who's anti-social as you, she notes and he gives her an unamused look.

He also finds out that he's actually ten years older than her, and he feels even more like an old man at that moment.

"Hey, I like your grumpy grandpa vibe," she teases him.

"You'd get along with Gabi and Falco."

"Who? Are they your kids?" Her eyes lights up when she takes note of his fond tone before it starts to narrow in suspicion. "You're not married are you?"

"What? Hell no. My hair would probably be gray now if they were." He says. "They're my neighbours. Both... what? 13 I think? They wouldn't stop pestering me since I moved into the complex a few months ago. Those two brats also won't stop calling me grandpa. Do I really look that old?"

"I'd say it's because of the wheelchair but it's actually your scowl that completes the look," she replies with a cheeky smile.

When they're done with their ice cream, Petra rolls him around while he holds on to her big-ass elephant plushie for her. He'd know she's excited about a booth in particular when he feels his wheelchair move faster towards their destination.

Throughout the night, she won them a bag of lollipops once and Petra insists he takes them home to Gabi and Falco. He, on the other hand, was surprised that his military background would be useful for something as useless as carnival games. His fast reflexes and sharp eye bagged them a few more wins, with the last game earning them a free popcorn.

- - -

Before they capped off the night, Petra (the retro lover that she is) led him to a nearby jazz club that she visited once. She insisted that it's on the way home so why not drop by? The atmosphere is more chill than Levi expected so at least he didn't have to listen to another upbeat bubblegum retro track.

"Come dance with me?" She says after a moment of watching the couples on the small dance floor.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm on a wheelchair for a reason."

"We can work around it." Ever the optimist, she leans down to try and help him stand up. "Lean yourself on me. I'll support you throughout."

Levi obliges, placing all of his weight on his working left leg while trusting the rest to Petra. He has his arms around and he tries to start moving with her.

He almost slips as he takes another step and in frustration, he attempts to sit down instead. "It's no use Petra-"

Petra's hold on him tightened. "Just trust me a little more Levi."

He sighs, attempting to stand again. They do find the right balance and rhythm on the second try and Levi breathes out in relief.

Soon, they're swaying to the music and Levi couldn't remember the last time he was upright like this, except for when he has to drag himself around with his crutch in the mornings.

Put your lips next to mine, dear Won't you kiss me once, baby? Just a kiss goodnight, maybe You and I will fall in love

"Petra?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not really into oldies music."

"I know. I realized that when you only kept mentioning the famous hits."

"Huh."

"I actually cringed when you said you liked Mr. Lonely."

"Shut up." She giggles at that and they finally sway in companionable silence, taking in the slow beat.

When the music stops, Petra reaches up to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He feels his face warm up, throat bobbing as he stares dumbly at her.

"Thanks for tonight, Levi." - - -

Levi goes back to Kismet Diner the next day, and the day after that. He's there every night and she's always the one who takes and serves his order.

He'd accompany her as she eats her late-night dinner on his table and he sometimes brings her some cookies he baked that morning. Nanaba would throw Petra a smirk here and there whenever she serves his table or when Petra clocks off to have dinner with him.

"Your captain's here," he once heard the taller woman whisper to Petra once the door closes to signal his entrance.

Levi would order the same black coffee and clubhouse combination that Petra eventually offered him to try other things on the menu. "Come on, it's on the house! Why can't you just try other options?"

Love me tender, love me sweet Never let me go You have made my life complete And I love you so

One morning three months into getting to know each other, Levi wakes up feeling contentment wash over him when he smells that she's brewing his usual order from his own apartment kitchen.

Petra enters his room beaming a few minutes later, black coffee and a plate of pancakes in each hand. He distinctly notes that she's playing her retro love songs on loud speaker again and he's long since given up on stopping her.

She leans down to place his breakfast on the side table and she starts peppering kisses from his scarred cheek up to the affected blind eye.

"Good morning Levi!" He wholeheartedly accepts both the breakfast and the kisses, hooking his arm around her waist and cuddling closer to her as he sits up in bed.

He takes her in and finds that he slightly misses the pink uniform and roller skates she dons while she serves him at the diner... but he won't deny that he definitely prefers seeing her draped in nothing but his slightly oversized white shirt instead. "Morning."

🧡🧡🧡🧡 ehehe send fic requests here if you'd like

[atsukashii]

❝soft hours❞ // k. bakugou

SYNOPSIS:  ➛ The world knows Katsuki Bakugou as the explosive number two pro hero. You know him as your husband who is soft for only three people on the planet; you and your children.  

» CHARACTER PAIRING: prohero!katsuki bakugou x reader

» WORD COUNT: 3.3k

» GENRE: pro-hero!katsuki, aged up characters, dad bakugou

» WARNINGS: swearing, fluff to the max & dad katsuki

« masterlist || ao3 »

Being a mother is hard work. 

You aren’t sure how your own made it look so damn easy, because it is anything but. When it was just you, your husband, and your son it was easy enough. But adding another baby to the mix? 

You have never been more tired in your entire life.

For the past month of her life, Koharu had been a good sleeper, with a chill and calm temperament that you, your mother, and mother-in-law; Mitsuki Bakugou all agreed did not come from your husband. But the past two days were a lot different. She had regressed... A lot. With Katsuki back at work, barely able to take time off due to being a high ranking pro hero, you were left to your own devices with the newborn. He had offered to help of course, but you had this. How hard could it be? You’d said confidently.

You’re not so confident now.

Just yesterday, you had struggled to put her to sleep when Katsuki came and managed to do it in less than ten minutes. And honestly, for a second were jealous of your husband. But then he had stumbled over nothing, swearing like a sailor and the wailing began again.

“Suki, don’t swear at the baby!” You had laughed

“I didn’t swear at the baby sweetheart, I swore at the fucking toy Kazuto left on the floor”

“Suki!”

“Kazuto, how many times do I have to tell you to pick up your toys once you're done playing with them?”

“Sorry, dad!” That moment had made you feel a lot better about your parenting abilities. 

Today, however, with Katsuki out on patrol, and your son at preschool, it left you and Koharu alone for some girl time. Time, that was spent with you completely frazzled and desperate to help your baby to stop crying and go back to sleep.

But. Nothing. Was. Working. 

After four hours, she finally fell asleep purely out of exhaustion, but not before you had called your own mother, crying on the phone. You weren’t a bad mother, you were just adjusting… Right? All parents had off days with their children, no one was perfect. Though when you had picked up your phone in a moment of peace and mistakenly opened up Instagram, you took one look at a young influencer and her designer baby, looking like she stepped out of a damn magazine… You couldn’t help but compare it to the sweats you wore to bed the night before that you still hadn’t changed out of, the spit up on your shirt, and the bags under your eyes. This is normal, you’d had to remind yourself over and over again as you had put your daughter back into her crib.

Stirring the curry you quickly threw together for dinner, you are ripped from your gloomy thoughts as the noise of the front door opening meets your ears. The door was quickly followed by the voice of a very energetic three-year-old carrying what you know to be the Red Riot merch backpack he takes everywhere. It was a gift from his Uncle Kirishima that Katsuki hates, but puts up with for the sake of his son's happiness. You also know that he has a Chargebolt T-shirt in his closet that he wears to preschool sometimes and cherishes it dearly. His favorite though, is his mini grenade toys based on Katsuki’s own hero costume. For Kazuto’s first birthday, you’d had a hero theme and you couldn’t help but dress him up like your husband, but when you did - with his white-blonde hair and red eyes - he looked like a tiny Katsuki. It was too cute. 

“And-and then he kicked the villain SO HARD that he flew across the sky! He’s so cool!” Explains Kazuto, jumping up and down in excitement. 

“Mmhmm,” Katsuki adds, making it sound like he was paying attention, and encouraging his son to keep rambling about his enormous love for heroes. You won’t be surprised if he follows in his father's footsteps and becomes a pro hero in the future, with his quirk already arrived and causing havoc through your home. 

Your own quirk - Bloom; allowing you to create whatever kind of flora you want, wherever you want, had gotten you into the general studies course at U.A. Which is where you had met your platonic soulmate, Mina Ashido. You had instantly clicked with her when you had met at the end of your first year, and then through her, you met Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Katsuki. At first, you hadn’t known what to think of the explosive blonde, and he didn’t seem to want much to do with you. That was until one day when you and Mina had convinced them all to hang out at an arcade, a villain attacked the street outside. Being not in the Hero course and not having a provisional license, you had left your friends to do their thing. It wasn’t however until the end that you had noticed a young boy, crying and calling for his mother. The villain had a super strength quirk and ended up throwing cars out of his way in an attempt to escape. Seeing what was about to happen before it did, you had lunged into action, throwing yourself over the boy and activating your quirk around you to create a wall of wooden spears the size of Redwoods. You had saved the child, gotten the lecture of a lifetime from Katsuki that ended in him confessing more than he wanted about how he felt about your safety. You were dating a month later and had been together ever since. You had also discovered what you wanted to do after school that day. Deciding you wanted to help people, you became a social worker that helps children who have lost their families.

Your son Kazuto’s quirk was closer to yours than your husband’s quirk, with the three-year-old having the ability to manipulate earth. His favorite thing was watching Avatar: The Last Airbender and trying to recreate what the Earth Benders did - in your living room, much to your chagrin. And you had a feeling that Koharu’s quirk was going to be something like Katsuki’s due to the fact that the baby smelt similar to your husband. 

“Hi, mum!” Kazuto shouts loudly, poking his head in the kitchen. He flashes you a smile broken by a new missing tooth, before racing down the hallway like he is set on a permanent setting of a sprint. 

“Hi you two,” You say, smiling as your husband comes into the kitchen in his casual street clothes, opting to change at the agency. 

“Hang up your bag Kazuto!” Bakugou yells after him and you pray that you have remembered to shut the nursery door. You hear a muffled response form your three-year-old before the sound of his feet dashing up the staircase and the momentary silence that follows has you sighing in relief. She's still out.

Walking over to you, Katsuki wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder. His strong arms pull you back to his chest as he looks over your shoulder to see what you’re cooking. Really, the quick curry was a bit pathetic, but after your long day, you didn’t have the willpower to cook anything fancy. As is sensing the tension in your muscles, Katsuki didn’t say a word about the food, which was a first. You were actually a good cook, but your husband was better and loved to tease you about it any second he could. So the fact that he currently stands behind you not saying a word was odd. 

“Your mother called me today.” Katsuki murmurs, his voice soft and full of concern. You sigh glumly knowing where this conversation is going. You had hoped your mother wouldn’t say anything to Katsuki after you’d called her today, in tears from frustration and insecurities falling from your lips like a boiling pot. It had been a bad day, everyone was allowed to have some bad days.

“Sweetheart, if you need help with the baby-” 

“It’s really fine Suki, it was just an off day.” You say, leaning your head back on his chest and tilting it back just enough so that you could meet his ruby gaze. “Besides, you can’t take any more time off work.” Leaning back up again, you grab the wooden spoon and stir the red sauce. Katsuki lets out a breath before moving with you, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. 

“I can take a fucking day off Y/n.” He mutters against your skin. A shiver runs up your spine and spreads down your arms, making your hair rise. Even after all these years, he still has the ability to render you to a pile of mush. 

“Your team will have my head if you take another day off, Suki.” You point out.

“Then I’ll blast them to hell after I fire them.” His response makes you smile, as he turns you around in his arms. His signature scowl covers his face, but it's the concern in his eyes that has your heart squeezing tight. He’s really worried, you realize. “Let me help you, sweetheart.” 

“Suki-” The sound of Koharu’s ear-piercing wails breaks the silence and has you resting your forehead on your husband's chest. “I’ve got her.” He says, placing a kiss to the crown of your head and giving your hips a reassuring squeeze before slinking out of the kitchen. You are so lucky to have him. 

To this day, Katsuki is still blunt and rash with the media, but people don’t really get to see the side of him that comes out with his family. He tries not to let his friends even witness it because they all give him endless shit about how much of a softie he is for his family. He denies it to hell whenever one of them brings it up, but after both the kids were born, Katsuki cried. Not a lot, just a few stray tears that engraved itself into your mind so heavily. With a sappy smile, you move the curry off the stove and begin dishing it up. As you finish, Kazuto comes wandering in on his own accord which surprises you. Normally, either you or Katsuki would have to go and get him or yell that dinner was done for the three-year-old to make an appearance. 

His vermillion gaze meets yours, and smiles. “Dad sent me down, he’s trying to put Koko to sleep,” Kazuto explains. You nod in understanding, walking the food over to the dining table. You only serve portions for you and your son, knowing that there's a chance Katsuki might not make it back down in time to eat with you. Once you are seated, you look at Kazuto and smile which is enough of an open look to make him start rambling about his day. Pro Hero’s are the first thing to come up, re-explaining the battle that one of his teachers had shown him through lunchtime, followed by his friends and then what he ate for lunch - as if you hadn’t been the one to make his lunch.

“It’s ‘Bring your parents to class day’, soon. Will you come?” His words shock you, and for a moment you just sit there blinking at your son. Kazuto looks up at you with such hope in his eyes, it makes you want to cry.

“You don’t want your dad to go?” You ask. You love Kazuto endlessly and would do anything for the sake of your children's happiness and safety, but you know that Kazuto and Katsuki have a special connection. One built on trust, love, and how much Kazuto looks up to his father as a pro hero. He truly is his father's biggest fan and honestly, it's beautiful. 

“It’s during the day, so he will probably have work. And I want you to come, you're a hero too mummy! You help save kids and help them find families.” Tears spring to your eyes, both at his admiration and the fact it's been a long day, and you so needed to hear that. Because you were a hero in your own way, you were a savior to the children you worked with. Guilt then followed behind the thought. Would I be a bad person if I didn’t go back to work then? If I wasn’t there to help them? You shake the thought from your head and look back to your son. 

“Thanks, honey,” you subtly wipe under your eyes and shove another spoonful of curry back into your mouth. “I’d be more happy than happy to come, but you might also want to ask your dad too so he doesn’t feel left out.” Kazuto nods his head ecstatically at your words before shoveling more food into his mouth. You muffle a quiet laugh at his antics. Yeah, he’s your son when it comes to his love for food.

“I also decided about my party this year for my birthday,” Kazuto says again. 

“Your birthday?” You ask, pretending to think. “No, it can’t be coming up. I clearly remember your birthday being last year!” The teasing tone goes over his head as he scrunches his face up in a pout. 

“It is! I’m four!” He argues, and you don’t hold in the smile 

“Are you sure?” You feign ignorance like you didn’t remember your own son's birthday. Finally catching on, he groans at you. 

“Muuuuummmmm...”

“Your birthday…” you begin and Kazuto beams in response before continuing on.

“Can it just be us at my party? With Aunt Mina and my uncles and cousins? I know they all might be really busy being heroes…” He asks and you're once again surprised by your son. Not one for flashy things, and not wanting to spend his outside of school time with his friends, but his family. It's adorable. His temperament at times like these takes after you so much, even though he’s the carbon copy of his father. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” you say winking, knowing that your friends would do anything for your little family. Including taking an afternoon off to spend it with their godson. Noticing he's done, you move to get his plate and gesture towards the stairs. “Why don’t you go clean up and check on your dad.” Kazuto nods and quickly scampers out of the room.

You clean up the kitchen quickly, putting leftovers in a dish and placing them in the fridge for Katsuki to raid later on. Leaving on the kitchen light, you walk out of the kitchen and past the living room to go up the stairs when the TV catches your eye. In the lounge, your eyes fall to the couch which holds your now sleeping husband and your one-month-old daughter, completely comatose on his chest. Old reruns of Friends plays quietly in the background, a show you watched compulsively whilst you were pregnant with Koharu. Squatting down next to Katsuki, you can’t help but smile at the peaceful expression on their faces. 

As if sensing your presence, Katsuki cracks open an eye, instinctively finding you. “Finally got her down I see,” you whisper, thumbing the blonde hair on the baby's head.

“Our kids fucking love me. I’ve got the magic touch.” He says and you grin.

“Oh, I’m fully aware. Mr. Tough-Explosion-man to the world, but here at home - with a sleeping baby on his chest. You’re really soft, Suki.” He now smiles at you but doesn’t make a move to reject the statement.

“Where’s Kazuto?” Katsuki asks, looking over the back of the couch to the clock on the back wall of the lounge. 

“He’s gone to wash up.” You reply, leaning forwards and picking up Koharu with very practiced and perfected stealth to take her to her crib. “He should be done by now. I’m going to put this one in her crib.” You finish, walking up the stairs and into the nursery. With baby blue painted walls and clouds that you had painstakingly illustrated whilst you had left all the assembly of things to Katsuki because the man practically growled at you when you moved to lift something. Turning on the baby monitor in Koharu’s room before quietly slipping through the door, you trudge down the hall towards the master bedroom. On your way past it, you innocently pole your head into Kazuto’s room, seeing Katsuki leaning against the wall next to Kazuto’s bed as they speak quietly amongst themselves. Every time you come into your son's room it makes you smile. The walls are covered in pro hero posters of people like his uncles and his dad. There’s even one of Deku that Katsuki doesn’t like, but once again, puts up with for his son. Kazuto’s eyes lock onto you whilst still talking to his father and you blow him a kiss before leaving the boys to their chatter. 

Closing the door behind you, you make quick work of jumping in the shower and washing your hair for - when was the last time you had washed your hair? To be honest you weren’t sure. 

With that thought, you finish your bathroom routine and get into your comfiest pajamas which consists of one of your husband's t-shirts, a favorite of yours since high-school. Beelining to the bed, you crawl under the covers and let the exhaustion of today leak out of your bones. Tomorrow was a new day, you remind yourself. It was something you found yourself frequently saying when you were overwhelmed and today, you had reached your limit. You only just close your eyes when your door opens, and Katsuki’s walks in. He’s quick and quiet like usual, but as soon as he gets in the bed, he pulls you towards him. He holds you tightly, your back against his chest - which you know won’t last for long because it's summer and the man is like a walking furnace. Placing a kiss against the back of your head, you finally decide to voice the thought that had been plaguing you all day.

“I’m thinking of taking more time off work.” Katsuki’s arms solidify around you. “Like, longer than my maternity leave.” You finish. To be honest, you weren't sure how best to broach the topic with him, even though you’ve been married for over four years now and together twice that long. You’re a very independent person and always liked having your own source of income. And relying on someone for that - there’s nothing wrong with it, you just weren’t sure that was for you. But lately, something changed. Maybe it was adding another baby to the mix, but you’ve been wanting to spend more time focusing on your kids and your husband, rather than work. 

The agency would be fine without me. Katsuki’s arms tighten around you as he helps you roll over towards him. His eyes are filled with pride and love as you look up at him. Placing his hand on your cheek, Katsuki gives you a soft smile.

“You know I’ll support everything you do. The other people at your agency will struggle for a while without you because you basically carry everyone in that fucking place.” Katsuki says. “But they will be okay. You’re the love of my life y/n, a great wife and the best mother to our little gremlins.” The buildup of stress from today bubbles over and you can’t hold in the tears. As fast as they fall, Katsuki brushes them away before placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“I love you so much sweetheart,” A broken sob breaks out of your mouth before you can stop it which has Katsuki kissing your forehead and grasping you tighter, tucking your head under his chin. 

“Shitty woman, let me fucking help you.” He whispers and you nod against his chest. 

“I love you, Suki.” Your voice is smothered against his skin, so you place a tender kiss to the bare skin of his chest in response. Running his hands down your spine and his warm body pressed to yours, you slowly drift to sleep. Your husband really is a softy at heart. 

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[creativeashproductions]

Instant Connection // Male!reader x Alex

Summary: Reader finds the blonde-haired drummer from the surprise performance at the spirit rally to be cute. So cute he gained your full attention at a school function you could barely tolerate, especially when Carrie and her clones performed some over the top number.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, this is a male!reader

Words: 1.3k

Pairing: male!reader x Alex (JATP)

A/N: For all the guys that don’t get represented enough in fandoms. I really hope I did this justice and didn’t insult anyone because that wasn’t my intention.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Blasting music from your phone bought with the hard-earned money you sketched out a new season concept. Feet kicked up on the bench your focus on your hand smoothing over the paper in the latest sketchbook. Music was as loud as it could be to block out another performance by Carrie and the Mimics or whatever they were called. A tap on your shoulder brought your attention to one of your best friends, Nick.

“Hey, man. Guys are meeting up after school?” Nick spoke leaning down from his bench level, “I know it’s been weird with your switching to baseball but-“

“Don’t you have a new leash to pick out with Carrie? You should get pink to make her pop culture rip off.” You spoke, pushing one hand through your short locks of hair settling your gaze on Nick, “Besides Jason just doesn’t like that I’m into guys.”

Jason was a close-minded pig that had harassed you after seeing you miss another guy like it wasn’t 2020. You didn’t regret leaving the lacrosse team other than losing time with your best friend. Nick was by far the most accepting out of everyone.

“What did you think?” The bubbly tone asked, leading you to see that Carrie had snuck into the general vicinity of you. You had nothing really against the girl, you were flattered when she had pursued you romantically before clicking with Nick, “Hey Y/N.”

“Carrie.” You spoke, placing your art tools into the opened backpack at your feet. Climbing to your full height, you started out the door with the bag slung over your shoulder.

You were halfway to the door when the keyboard came to life on stage, unexpectedly causing some students to slow their movements. Turning to the stage, there was a girl nervously sitting scanning the room. Julie Molina was a childhood friend with a passion for music, although it was locked away after she lost her mother.

“C’mon Julie.” You breathed stepping closer to the stage just as she gained the confidence to play. The pride was growing, but It altered with the sudden appearance of three very attractive guys playing alongside her.

“Whoa.” Nick spoke, stepping up beside you in complete surprise, “Julie’s playing again.”

You mutely replied, meeting the gaze of the blonde-haired drummer having the time of his life with energy so breathtaking. God, you had a thing for blonde guys. The drummer met your gaze with an electric gaze that you swore caused goosebumps.

“Of course it’s the blonde guy.” Nick snickered shoving his shoulder against your side as you were taller than the lacrosse player. The entire school crowded around the stage as everyone lit up more than they had in years. Music wasn’t like this anymore, and you actually enjoyed it.

“Damn they are good.” You breathed scanning the three guys boosting Julie into performing, “It’s about time.”

Nick nodded, “It’s nice to see she’s getting back to normal.”

“Go, Julie!” You shouted with cupped hands earning a surprised look from the Latina girl having the time of her life on stage. Julie hadn’t realized how much she missed performing until this moment where everyone connected to the music.

You, like everyone else, gasped when Julie walked right through the guy in the cutoff muscle tee with the arms of Adonis. Yet no matter how attractive the guitar players were, you couldn’t help but gaze at the blonde.

“What the hell?” Carrie’s preppy voice demanded with her closest backup dancer right beside her enjoying the show more than Carrie.

“Just let it go for now.” You told the dirty blonde haired girl pleading she let the moment be precisely how it should be. Not stained with jealous, toxic and pitiful feelings as it had also been with Carrie on the subject of Julie Molina.

“Seriously? Y/N, you’re my friend! My best guy friend! You should be on my side!” Carrie demanded crossing her arms as the song started to come to an end.

“Uh, no. I’m Nick’s friend, and you happen to be part of the package.” You snorted crossing your arms stretching the denim jacket with some paint marks. You found Carrie to be amusing but over the topmost of the time.

Ignoring the scoffs and words from the popular Wilson you took in the last bit of the song before they bowed and the band disappeared. Your eyebrows raised as the startled expression of Julie’s face while the school whispered among itself.

“Holograms?” Nick spoke, shaking his head as he joined his lacrosse friends in heading to the hallways of the school.

Catching the tail end of Julie getting back into the program, you waited for her, “Congratulations, Julie.”

“Thanks Y/N.” Julie murmured with a content smile that slowly faded as Flynn came into her view, wearing a sullen expression. Reading the room, you fled to your math class across the school, leaving the best friends alone.

Around the corner you found three guys lounging, guys from the performance which was odd given they were supposedly holograms. You could confront them, but if you were late Mr. Bryan would have your head, so you pushed it to the backburner.

“Stupid fucking calculus,” You muttered walking around the trio barely looking at them on your walk. Your shoes slapping the linoleum flooring the cool janitor had freshly waxed before the school year; he was a tap dancer too.

You could, however, feel the gaze on your retreating back.

“He was eyeing you up.” Reggie poked Alex as they watched you turn a corner from their view. Alex jolted out of his thoughts with a faint blush and feeling awkward that Luke had seen that.

“Oh shut up.” Alex rolled his eyes glancing to where you had left his view. Luke had a smile at the apparent crush Alex had on a guy in a denim jacket with paint splatter, “I’m dead. He’s not.”

“He might be dead inside.” Reggie supplied earning deadpan looks from his bandmates already done with his jokes, “Okay time to shut up.”

Even as Julie came around the corner startled at the sight of them as usual, you couldn’t leave the blonde drummer’s head.

Alex was excited with the new revelation in his life following playing The Orpheum; they were taking a small break. Julie and Luke were still writing songs, but Alex was exploring the city. He was humming when he bumped into a person. Standing close to his height was you. A guy that made his heart flutter and his palms sweat; it wasn’t like this at the beginning with Luke.

“Hey Alex.” You grinned amusedly as his cheeks matched the pink shirt he wore, “I was wondering when I would get to see you again.”

“Uh…you wanted…to see me?” Alex stuttered blinking at your sentence taken aback at the straightforwardness you had.

“It’s that not okay?” You trailed off. Your eyes then widened, “Oh god, you aren’t gay, are you.”

“No! Gay! Me!” Alex practically shouted frantically shaking his head further embarrassing himself in front of the way he was almost in love with as this point. You thought it was adorable, “I mean, yes, I am gay.”

“Cool. Wanna go out sometime?” You questioned nerves coating the sentence as you waited to hear his response. The adorable, shy smile appearing on the blonde drummer’s face before he hesitantly grabbed your hand.

“How about now?”

“I’d love to.” You replied tugging him after you with your hands intertwined just as much as your hearts were starting to. Alex would figure out a way to tell you about the whole ghost thing, but for today he wanted to be a regular guy on a date with a cool dude with a paint-splattered denim jacket.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED!)

I’m just tagging those who asked to be for Luke just to get this out there since there is no little fics for Alex 🥺

@safehavenmuse​ @siennanoelle01​ @whiterose291​ @mell-bell​ @blackhood5sos​ @ficrecsideblog​ @ifilwtmfc​ @deadpoolgirl23​ @crappy-unicorn​ @sunsetcurve-h​@elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals​ @popcrone818​ @lolychu​ @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit​ @just-a-writer-here​ @simp4reggie​

[undeadsnorlax]

Alone at Midnight, Inside My Mind

@badthingshappenbingo

Ao3 Link

Bingo Card

using the prompt in a metaphorical sense, as opposed to the medical aid sense

Prompt: Crutches

Fandom: Yakuza/Ryu Ga Gotoku

Warnings: a lot of alcohol related issues, including addiction and withdrawal, some suicidal thoughts and body image issues, hurt/no comfort. set pre-Yakuza 2.

Wordcount: 5511

2pm. He could tell it was because his downstairs neighbour was home, attending to the array of plant pots she kept littered outside her door, and playing music on the radio that bled through the crack of the open window.

Daigo squinted in the afternoon light that managed to make its way through the blinds, groaning loudly.

“Fucking hell…”

Suppose now was as good a time as any to start the day. Especially when he felt his stomach rumble.

It took some effort to get to his feet, but soon he was dragging himself into the kitchen, yawning loudly. He needed something quick and tasty, now.

The fridge had nothing but convenience store sushi and days old leftover curry. The cupboards were also pretty bare, half a bag of rice and a ramen cup.

Daigo sighed heavily, setting his kettle to boil before grabbing the sushi. He stuffed a piece into his mouth, wrinkling his nose at the taste of stale rice but ate another without any complaint.

Head to the store. Get some more food, he thought, holding the ramen cup in place as he lifted up the kettle.

The water splashed on the counter a little, narrowly missing burning his fingers, making him forcefully slam the kettle back down once the cup was filled.

Daigo gripped the sides of the counter, closing his eyes as he felt a pulse of nausea rush through his body. If he forced the tension against the surface hard enough, he could stop his hands shaking for just a moment.

Eat noodles. Have a shower. Go to the store.

Opening his eyes again, he ate another piece of sushi, absolutely no taste on his tongue as he chewed it into mush, before taking his ramen into the living room.

He slumped down on the couch, turning the TV on and forced the food down him. He still felt nauseous, but he knew he wouldn’t actually vomit. He already had last night. Doubled over in a bush outside the train station and puked his guts out, despite not having much solids in him. Even now his throat felt sore from it. Classy.

He wasn’t even hungry, really. He was eating out of obligation, feeling his stomach gurgle happily at finally being filled with some kind of food.

As he ate, he noticed his cell phone on the table in front of him, discarded amongst the empty bottles and candy wrappers. It was flashing.

Daigo frowned, reaching over and flipping it open.

Three new answer machine messages.

Who the hell had tried calling him?

Message one - 9:25am

“Daigo, it’s your mother. Pick up.”

Message two - 9:43am

“Me again. Please answer your phone.”

Message three - 10:08am

“Daigo...it’s Mom-“

Daigo groaned, snapping his phone shut to end the messages. Nope! He was not dealing with this today.

He discarded the empty ramen cup and chopsticks with the rest of the trash on the table, storming towards the bathroom.

Shower on, clothes off. He used the toilet as the water heated up, catching the reflection of his upper half in the mirror as he finished.

“Hrmph.”

He ran a hand down his front, resting it on the middle of his stomach and huffed again.

His weight had been up and down the last ten years, though it had obviously settled during his stint in prison, with its shit food and no alcohol. Now that he was out, with all the freedom to indulge in every last inch of hedonism he could find though, he had developed a bit of a gut. Just a bump, but it was…noticeable, it was there. It stuck out.

No surprise really. How much did he drink last night again?

Enough I puked in a bush.

Daigo shifted on his feet, standing up a bit straighter and sucking his stomach in. It didn’t make much difference. He suddenly wondered how visible it was under his t-shirt, glad he usually wore a thick coat to hide himself in.

“Great,” he growled, stepping into the shower. Another thing to feel insecure about.

He stood there, forehead pressed against the wall as he let the water run down the Fudo Myoo on his back.

His hand started shaking again.

“Give me a break,” he said, clasping it to his chest, “A few hours, a day.”

He dried himself off, going back to his bedroom for a clean shirt and pair of jeans – both black, of course.

He also grabbed a heavy hoodie to wear to the store, a way to feel a little more comfortable in himself in a public place.

Wallet, keys, phone. Go to store. Buy supplies.

Daigo pulled his hood up as he jogged down the stairs, immediately blocked from leaving by the downstairs neighbour still gardening.

“Lovely afternoon, isn’t it Dojima-san?” Ito cried, beaming at him. She was older, always so chipper. How did she manage?

As much as he wanted to ignore her, Daigo had been raised with far too proper manners. He still remained casual, grunting a little and rubbing the back of his head.

“Yeah, suppose.”

“You came back late again last night,” she added, hands lifting a plant to move to another pot, “Ouma-san went off about it before going to work this morning.”

“Oh, did he now?”

Ouma was the guy around his age in the apartment next door. Always miserable, always bringing a new girl home every weekend that Daigo had to endure hearing fake horribly through his thin bedroom walls.

“I’ll try to be a bit quieter next time, Ito-san,” he mumbled. For her sake, not for that asshole Ouma.

“Or maybe you should stay in once in a while, hm?”

Daigo scowled, jerking his head and storming off toward the store. With any luck the old bag would have gone inside by the time he was back.

As he made his way down the street, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He went to answer but paused, clenching his fingers tight into his palm. Nope. He knew who it was, and what she wanted, and he didn’t care.

His supply run was basic. More noodles, packs of chips and cookies, some onigiri and bentos that could last a few days.

Whilst picking up a few bottles of Staminan and Tauriner, he stared blankly at the alcohol.

His hands still shook. There was such a quick fix to settle that.

He grabbed a six pack of beer and a bottle of scotch and vodka, unable to help a crooked little grin.

The cashier looked at him a little oddly as he set his basket down on the counter. And yeah, he’d admit he looked strange. Sweating and shaky from withdrawal, under his eyes dark and his brow pulled into a near permanent scowl, face otherwise obscured by the shadow of the hood.

“Get me some cigarettes too, huh?” he mumbled, taking out his wallet and avoiding eye contact.

He was a mess.

He stared at the glass case of baked goods, unable to resist the pull from his sweet tooth, and asked for two donuts as well.

He arrived back home rather pleased with his haul. He had enough in him to pack away most of it, before he stared down the booze he bought.

He could...not do this, actually. He could not drink. It was easy, in theory.

He wiped his damp brow, licked his dry lips. His head hurt, despite the slight gloom of the kitchen.

They could sit there as an ultimate temptation. He could ignore them. He could do all manner of things.

But he wanted to drink, that was the issue. That was the whole point. Drinking was the only thing he had that stayed consistent.

He grabbed the scotch and slugged back a long mouthful, feeling everything just melt away. He let out a relieved gasp, the taste strong on his tongue and warming his throat. Felt like a part of him was back. His mind became a little clearer, his mood a little more elevated. He took a shorter swig for luck, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Much better…”

He spent the rest of the afternoon lounging on the sofa, playing video games. There wasn’t much else for him to do during the day.

Evening was his time.

When seven rolled around, Daigo got ready. His jeans and t-shirt were fine already, so all he had to do was put on his usual cross necklace to complete the outfit. He spent a while staring down himself in the mirror as he applied a shaky dash of eyeliner around his lid.

Once upon a time he shied away from doing this publicly, but since leaving jail he stopped caring. Wore eyeliner and straightened his hair. Painted his nails black and picked at the polish when he was anxious. Who gave a shit? Anyone dumb enough to say anything soon regretted it.

Keys, wallet, phone. Same routine. He chose his white puffer jacket to wear instead of his hoodie, enjoying the barrier it gave him from the rest of the world.

One quick metro ride later, he was in Kamurocho, just as the town was coming alive in a burst of neon. Daigo lost himself in the crowds, thinking of which bar to hit up first.

He paused for a moment down Tenkaichi Street, staring at the sign for Serena. Place was closed, and had been for a little under a year now.

He knew what happened last year, of course. Heard about Rina through another barkeep. Not that he’d known her well, or spent much time at Serena, but something in his chest ached hearing she was gone in such circumstances.

He soon forgot about it with another glass.

With a weary huff, he decided the Champion District on the other side of town was the best place to start. The bar he chose was quiet, no other customers, and a barman who knew when to keep his mouth shut.

Perfect.

Instead of conversation, Daigo focused on the soft jazz music playing as he nursed his whiskey. He was into heavier tunes, but he needed a bit more of a buzz before going to his favourite rock bar.

He tapped his nails against the glass, tilting his head. Good idea, actually. They did cheap shots and a big array of imports.

He slammed some cash down on the counter before stumbling into the street, glad to feel the slight evening chill on his cheeks.

Down to Pink Street, and into the rock bar he enjoyed. Already feeling at home with the heavy guitar music blasting over the speakers, most of the other patrons dressed in a similar style to him. He’d missed out on a lot of stuff whilst locked away, the slight sways in fashion that happened in such a short amount of time, but he liked knowing he was still on trend within his scene, mostly.

He sat at the counter, giving a half-grin to the girl working there, and ordered himself five shots of vodka.

His earlier drinks had been a warmup, these were the first leg of the race. The second came in the form of a large scotch, some new brand they’d started selling.

Honestly, the start to a perfect night for him, until he heard a small gasp from behind him.

“Hey! Aniki!”

Daigo’s heart sank at the voice, glancing over his shoulder. Five of the guys he usually hung around with were there – or more accurately, they hung around him.

He rolled his eyes and groaned, turning in his seat and glaring them down. He should never had shown them this place.

“What do you want?” he muttered, already knowing the answer.

“We didn’t know you were out today!” Arita cried, leaning up next to him, with that sycophantic look he always had in his eyes. As if Daigo wasn’t out every night.

“Why don’t you join us aniki?” Kubo asked, which actually translated to wanna pay for all our drinks because we’re cheap scrounging bastards?

Daigo groaned again, knocking back his glass and waving the bartender over again.

“If you quit calling me aniki.”

They didn’t, of course. They gleefully accepted the drinks he bought them with more coos of thank you Dojima-aniki. Daigo rubbed the bridge of his nose and ordered himself two double scotches, slugging them back like they were water.

“I was thinkin’ we could go to Dazzle after this,” Arita said, having not left Daigo’s side. He always babbled and talked too much, like he felt he had to fill every silence with his own voice save people be left alone with their own thoughts.

“Why there?” Daigo asked, thinking of all the things he’d rather do more than go to a hostess club, including and not limited to slamming his face into a lit stovetop and drowning in a hot tub.

“I just think the girls there are really underrated, y’know? I like that they have some slightly older gals, I love a mature lady. How about you?”

Daigo shoved a shard of ice from his glass into his mouth and let it melt on his tongue. “Come on then.”

He was paying for two hours and that was that. At least he could get a bottle for himself and work through that, sitting at the edge whilst the others enjoyed the girls’ company.

Dazzle might have specialised in more mature women, but the decor was a nightmare like every other hostess club. Why’d they always insist on so many sparkles, it gave him a headache.

“Um...are you enjoying yourself?”

Daigo lowered his gaze to look at the girl. ‘Mature’ really meant ‘late twenties’, and she was running on the younger side of that.

“What do you think?” he said coldly, swirling his drink in its glass.

She seemed a little dazed at this, glancing back at her fellow hostesses, but kept going.

“M-my name is Nashi. Yours?”

“Daigo Dojima.”

He clicked his tongue, emptied his glass and went to refill it, his shoulders slouching slightly. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be so short, you’re only doing your job.”

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ve had far worse responses.”

Daigo just gritted his teeth. Another reason he hated hostess clubs was he knew how other men treated these girls, saw it himself the times his father brought him along as a teen.

The least he could do was give this lady a nice conversation.

“Well, I’ll try to be a bit better than them,” he said, gesturing with his head towards the others, so loud and obnoxious.

Nashi smiled a little. “They’re not so bad. Your friends are just a bit...out there.”

He scoffed. “They’re not my friends. I don’t really...do friendship anymore.”

“Oh? How come?”

Shit. Of course, when you say something like that, people have questions. Daigo licked his lips in thought, considering how he should phrase this.

“You...don’t recognise my name, do you?”

Nashi blushed a little, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Um, well, you do have a bit of notoriety around town, Dojima-san. I know girls in other clubs, and they always talk about you.”

Daigo did a slight double take at this. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. You’re a rather…” She gestured at his coat and skinny jeans. “A striking figure, you know. A lot of girls like the edgy emo bad boy look. It’s popular right now.”

“Hm, figures.” A lot of men are also fans…

Daigo sat up a little straighter, gazing Nashi down. “Do you?”

“H-huh?”

“Find me attractive?”

It was a joke, said with a dry smirk, but she flustered, clearly uneasy. Daigo grimaced, sliding up a little closer and putting a hand to her knee.

“Hey, hey. I’m kidding.” He made his smirk a soft smile, broke down the facade for just a moment to put her at ease. “Don’t worry about it.”

Nashi’s eyes went wide, but nodded, brushing down the edges of her dress.

“A-anyway, I...I’ve heard you...were involved with the Tojo Clan. Is that why you don’t ‘do’ friends?”

“Mm. Essentially.”

Daigo gave up on the glass, swigging back from the bottle which got him a funny look from one of the other patrons across the way.

“My only friend murdered my father,” he said, so matter of fact. He hesitated a moment, letting out a short huff. “Well. He went to jail for the crime, at least. He was actually covering for someone else. Either way, I was left without his guidance for ten years, thinking he had betrayed me like that.”

He paused a second, swilling whiskey around his mouth, before continuing.

“I came back to town a few months ago and...he hasn’t bothered trying to find me. Which shows how little he cares.”

“Oh. That sounds...awful, Dojima-san.”

“It sure does, doesn’t it?”

Daigo shrugged, tilting the empty bottle back so he could savour just a few more drops as best he could. “That’s just how my life is now.”

He grumbled a little as he set the bottle down, belching into his cupped hand before draping himself back against the seat.

“Sometimes you gotta deal with the hand you're given,” he added, scratching lazily at his middle, “And unfortunately, I’ve had a poor deck from the start.”

He shut his eyes before letting out a laugh, forced and hollow. “Sorry. I’m not the best at keeping things light.”

How many hostesses had he paid to listen to him whine? Then he thought how they were probably all used to it, which made it even worse.

“Well, given your circumstances…”

Nashi glanced back at her co-workers, the barely hidden looks of disdain towards the rest of the crew and their boorish behaviour.

“I’d much rather talk to you though,” she said, reaching over to grab another one of the bottles along the table, gesturing toward his glass, “You’re nice.”

Daigo swallowed, nodding in approval as she filled it to the brim. His head pounded, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the music or the cravings.

“If you say so.”

The glass was empty in a flash, and filled just as quick.

“You’re good at this,” he purred.

The bottle was empty by the time the waiter came by. Daigo had just enough mental capacity to dig through his pockets and pay, giving Nashi a shaky smile and a pat on the knee.

“Thank you for tonight. You’re great.”

His friends, on the other hand, all started to whine as the waiter began to urge them into finishing their drinks.

“Aw, c’mon aniki, let’s hang around a bit longer!”

“If you want that, pay yourself, ya cheap fucks.”

Daigo stood up, a bit too quickly as he felt the room spin. He stumbled to the side slightly, wincing as he contained a belch that very much tasted of vomit. Nope! No puking tonight. Keep it all inside.

“I’m outta here,” he mumbled, resting a hand on any available solid surface to keep himself steady as he left.

He blanked out the cries of the others as he did. He’d wasted enough time with them tonight, and he was craving something else.

“Burger,” he mumbled, squinting as he glanced up and down the street, “Pffft...that way.”

This was always the worst part of the night. Trying to sober up enough so he could keep going, or at the very least get home in one piece. Stumbling through the streets and trying not to crack his skull open.

It wasn’t just food he craved though. He felt...itchy. That was the only way to really explain it. The desire to go wild, start a scuffle. Really earn that reputation he supposedly had.

To hell with staying in one piece.

But first, Smile Burger.

The fact that the poor worker even understood what he said through his slurred words was impressive and soon he was curled up against the window, feet pulled up on the chair beside him as he made his way through a burger that tasted like the finest wagyu steak right now.

All the while, he kept his eye out.

Yeah, it felt shitty to target people for a fight like this, but he made sure it was a fair fight. Usually a few guys, who looked like they could take a hit as well as throw one, maybe even have a chance if they weren’t facing someone running on adrenaline and too much booze.

He cocked his head as he focused on a table nearby. Four men, mid-twenties, definitely young yakuza from some family. He couldn’t see any lapel pin from where he was sat, but they were perfect.

Childishly, he picked up one of his fries and threw it in their direction. It hit the back of one guy’s head, and he looked around puzzled. Daigo just threw another, chuckling as it hit him again. A bit too obvious, as he was spotted this time.

“What the hell’s wrong with you dude?” one of the four cried.

“I dunno,” Daigo said, stuffing a bunch of fries in his mouth before flinging another their way, “Target practise.”

This one hit a guy in a striking red sports jacket right between the eyes, and Daigo could barely contain the full-on cackle he let out at the expression he pulled. It was almost too easy.

He grinned when one came over and jabbed him in the chest.

“Outside. Now.”

“My pleasure.”

He followed them into a nearby side street, hands in his pockets and head held high. He liked an audience sometimes, but a private fight was fine enough.

The biggest one of them threw the first punch. He was expecting it, crossing his arms over in front of his face to block it, before kicking out at the guy’s ankles.

The whole fight was messy. The little gang clearly had never been in a proper fight, had no form. They kept punching poorly, wincing with any that managed to hit as they stung their knuckles.

Not that Daigo was any better. He was still far too drunk, but that was half the fun. Stumbling about and getting in a rough hit that frightened these kids who’d never experienced this before. He just wanted the thrill, the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins. Anything to feel something.

Daigo landed a punch on that guy in the sports jacket, right in the middle of his face. It sent him flat on his ass, skidding down the street slightly.

“Come on!” he groaned, “Grab him, idiots! We outnumber him!”

A moment of pause. Daigo tried to catch his breath, but ol’ sports jacket was right. He was outnumbered.

Two of them grabbed his coat and pushed him back against the wall, holding him there. The third punched at his gut, over and over. Daigo gritted his teeth, tensed his stomach for every punch.

He knew he could get out of this, easily. The guys holding him were hardly doing much, weren’t even gripping his actual arms, just the sleeves of his jacket. It wouldn’t take much to duck and slip down, then send them crying home to their mommies.

“Come on!” he hissed, baring his teeth.

But he wanted them to hit him.

“That all you got?”

He wanted them to hurt him.

Sports jacket guy had gotten back on his feet now, face already starting to bruise. His fist met the middle of Daigo’s face hard, harder than they’d been hitting before. It stung, a lot, which is exactly what he wanted.

Not that it solved anything.

It never did.

“Oi!” They all froze, turning toward the entrance of the street. Daigo, semi-dazed, managed to look too, and felt his stomach drop.

Kashiwagi's expression, initially a scowl, changed the moment he saw him, shaking his head and blinking a little. “Daigo?”

He sighed heavily, storming over and waving his hand at the little gang. “Shoo. Don’t let me catch you boys doing shit like this again, you hear?” “Y-yes Patriarch Kashiwagi.”

They scurried off further down the street, leaving Daigo to stand up straighter, rubbing his nose. He groaned a little as he saw the streaks of rusty red on the back of his hand, sniffling heavily. “Great.”

“Daigo…”

Kashiwagi sighed again, rubbing at his temple. “What are you doing?” “I’m just...I’m just out.” Daigo sniffed again, scrunching his nose. “Just finished dinner.”

“You know what I mean…”

Kashiwagi looked around, then grabbed Daigo by the shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s talk in the office.”

Daigo went to argue, but it only took one stern glare, the kind the older man had given him his whole life, for him to clench his jaw and follow.

Kashiwagi led the way toward the Millennium Tower, hand on Daigo’s shoulder the whole way. It felt so patronising, like that time he accidentally broke a window at the Dojima Family offices when he was ten, and Kashiwagi had done the exact same gesture, marching him to his mother.

“Nice upgrade,” he still said, gazing out the wide window of Kashiwagi’s office once they arrived, “From that little place on Tenkaichi.”

“Well, we make do. I’m second in command now.” Kashiwagi set down the plastic convenience store bag he’d been carrying on his desk, letting out a small, bemused exhale of air. “It’s not all bad. Now come on. Why were you fighting?”

Daigo clicked his tongue and shrugged, staring at the blinking lights below them.

“Daigo…” “I just was, okay?”

He gave a dismissive shrug, walking across the floor toward a cabinet, throwing the doors open. Kashiwagi watched him with tired eyes, slumping down in his chair. “I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight.”

“How did you know that’s what I was looking for?”

“Your breath reeks of it, kid. Your whole body does.” He took out a bento and can of coffee from the plastic bag, raising a brow. “And I know what you’re like, especially lately. How’s being a free man by the way? Haven’t seen you since you were released.”

“It sucks ass.”

Daigo slammed the cabinet door shut, opening another and grinning as he saw half a bottle of whiskey there, as well as some crystal glasses. He heard Kashiwagi tut loudly as he slammed both down on top of the cabinet.

“What did you expect?” he scoffed, pouring a very large measure, “Mom told me the news the moment I got out. What Nishikiyama did. That it wasn’t Kiryu. He hasn’t even come to see me, to apologise for it.”

He knocked the glass back, the sensation warm and familiar down his throat. “Hardly feel free. Just not in jail anymore.”

“What happened to the boy I knew?” Kashiwagi asked, walking over and placing a hand on Daigo’s shoulder once more. This time it was gentle, kind, attempting to be comforting. Not Kashiwagi-san, one of his father’s men, but Uncle Osamu, his mother’s best friend.

Daigo scrunched his nose up, taking another slug of whiskey. “You say that like I’ve ever been cheery.”

“Well, okay, you’ve always been a serious young man, but…”

He just shook his head, moving his hand away. He grabbed the whiskey bottle in the process, making Daigo let out a pathetic little whine.

“I’m not going to enable you any more than I have,” he said firmly, before adding, “I mean it though. You don’t need to throw your life away like this.”

Daigo didn’t reply, because he didn’t like the real answer. There wasn’t much of a life to throw away. He was doing everyone a favour with this.

“You bring me up here just to lecture me old man?” he growled, narrowing his eyes.

Still looking for someone to fight. Kashiwagi would wipe the floor with him, he knew that, but he didn’t care. He also knew he wouldn’t get that kind of satisfaction.

Didn’t mean Kashiwagi wasn’t frustrated with his attitude. He closed his eyes, clenching his fists and let out a deep exhale from his nose. “I saw your mother today. She’s been trying to call you all morning.”

“I know.” The empty glass was set down heavily, with a grunt. Daigo dug around for his phone, holding it out so Kashiwagi could see the countless missed calls and texts from her on the home screen. “I know what today is.”

“...and is that why you’re-”

“You know I’m like this anyway.” He stared at the texts, all similar in tone - Daigo, please call me. Daigo, it’s important. Are you okay? He got them most days from his mother. She was trying so hard. He didn’t want her to. He would rather she forget about him. She deserved that much.

Kashiwagi wasn’t looking at him, staring up at the ceiling as he thought of what to say next.

“I understand that...none of us could have predicted the extent of what your father was like.”

Daigo did a double take, noticing Kashiwagi immediately cringe. At least he knew what he said was stupid.

“Sorry, that was-”

“Yeah. It was.” Daigo looked up, head cocked to his shoulder. “Anyone could have guessed, really. We just pretended otherwise, because somehow he seemed to be the only thing keeping the Tojo Clan from completely falling apart.”

He was up in Kashiwagi’s face now, feeling his chest clench tight. He was working himself up over nothing, over that bastard. He hated it, but thinking of what his father did to get himself killed, the kind of man he was, it made his skin crawl.

“He deserves to spend every birthday after what he did having the most miserable time in hell,” he said with a hiss, noticing his voice wobbling, “I know it. You know it. But Mom refuses to let go-”

The slap felt cathartic, for both of them. Daigo shut his eyes and nodded as his cheek stung. He deserved that. He was trying to provoke that kind of reaction and got exactly that.

“I take back what I said. That boy you were is still there. An insolent brat,” Kashiwagi said, walking back to his desk, “Daigo, one day, you’re going to have to grow up. You can’t keep doing this until you die.”

He threw a semi-sympathetic look over his shoulder, but Daigo mostly felt it was piteous. That’s what he was. A pitiful, useless mess.

“Go home, Daigo. Call your mother. And for everyone’s sake, don’t have anything else to drink tonight.”

Daigo sucked in through his teeth and nodded again as he walked toward the door.

“...good night, Kashiwagi-san.”

No response. Yup. I deserve this.

He made his way home in a daze, everything working in automatic. Kashiwagi’s words kept echoing in his head, over and over.

You can’t keep doing this until you die.

Because that’s what he was trying to do, wasn’t it? Die. Suicide by hedonism. He was born already holding the worst hand life could deal, and he was never going to get anything better. After his father was killed, the one tiny scrap of potential good he could have in his life was gone, even if that prospect was a life of crime.

So why not? Why should he grow up when there was nothing to grow up for?

The moment he was inside his apartment, he slid down the door, staring blankly ahead. He’d needed that talking to, he needed a few really, from people who were currently pretending like he didn’t exist. That’s what he really needed. For Kiryu to talk to him, apologise for ruining his life, try and talk some sense into him. He always knew what to do.

But it was like he didn’t exist. Kiryu didn’t care. Kashiwagi tried to care, but knew he was a lost cause. Who did care?

Daigo opened up his phone again, staring at the missed calls and sighed. That’s who cared. Mom.

He should talk to her. He knew he should. He was an awful son who loved his mother very much, which is why he knew she deserved better. She was trying despite knowing she’d made mistakes, but he just couldn’t let that go.

He hovered on her number, ready to press the button to call...but instead he tossed his phone to land on the couch, walked to the kitchen and wrapped his fingers around the neck of the vodka bottle still on the counter.

He licked his lips, swallowed heavily...but let go, pushing it away.

“You win this time old man,” he grumbled, picking up an energy drink and the donuts he’d bought earlier in the day instead. Kashiwagi could never be allowed to know that though.

He knew this self-control wouldn’t last long. Come morning, he’d be shaking again, a hangover banging in his skull, and he’d be dragging himself towards that bottle like it was the source of life.

The same thing every day.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

He couldn’t have it any other way.

[pototters]

Without You

A/N: HEY, OMG, I’M BACK!!

Okay, so, I may have plunged myself into the pit of KiriBaku/BakuKiri and now I’m stuck there. Literally, nearly every idea I have lately is for this ship. I love them. Might be a little obsessed, but hey, I’m happy here.

I fell into quite the writing rut and found it difficult for me to write literally anything. The focus wasn’t there, the inspiration was lacking, and so I wrote the first thing that came to mind and forced myself to follow it.

Thus, this fic was born. THE LONGEST THING I’VE EVER WRITTEN HERE. Except my old collab fic, Strawberry and Cream, but I don’t really count that one. I wrote this piece like an effing madman, tell you what. I think now I’ve kinda gotten through my block, writing will happen a bit easier going forward. I hope.

Anywho, without further ado, here’s the fic~

Summary: Bakugo goes on a mountain hike and realizes that something rather important is missing.

Warnings: it’s Bakugo, there’s swearing.

Bakugo x Kirishima

Words: 4,477

Something was wrong.

Bakugo zipped up his backpack angrily, the last of what he’d need all packed up. Tugging on his hiking boots, he threw the pack over his shoulders and headed out. It was the weekend, and pretty early in the morning, so the dorms were pretty quiet.

He paused in the hallway, but forced himself not to turn down the hall. His back practically burned with the thought of the neighboring rooms, but he gave an annoyed grunt before heading down the stairs. Luckily, no one was in the commons to bother him as he made his way out. He was already in a foul mood and didn’t need anyone to further aggravate him.

Something was wrong.

The walk to the bus stop was short and the wait was even shorter. Just before he could board, there was a shout from down the sidewalk to hold the bus. Bakugo glanced in the direction of the voice, saw a flash of red, and his heart picked up to race furiously within his chest. A second look, however, revealed a stranger wearing a red bandanna and he grunted to himself as he finished boarding the bus.

The ride to the base of the mountain was barely half an hour, then it was a ten minute walk to the start of the trail. Hitching his pack into place on his shoulders, Bakugo began the ascent. He’d been planning this hike for well over a month. It was overdue and the fresh air helped to clear his head. Already, he could feel his stress levels decline the higher he climbed.

He’d been hiking without pause for nearly two hours when he heard a grumbling complaint and dragging footsteps behind him. His ire raised, he turned around to tell the complainer off, but his voice caught in his throat. There was no one there.

Something was wrong.

By midday, the temperature had risen significantly, but the thinning mountain air helped to keep Bakugo from overheating. As he walked, tiny explosions crackled in his palms as he burnt off the excess sweat to prevent any accidents. He understood too well the dangers of his quirk and wasn’t interested in taking any unnecessary risks.

His stomach growled at some point, so he looked for a good spot to stop and sit down for his lunch. A fallen tree served as a place for him to sit as he took off his backpack and dug inside. Pulling out a sandwich, he held it out, but no one took it. He lifted his gaze to glare at his arm as though the muscle memory had offended him, which it most definitely had. He had become much too used to having company.

As he peered within his pack, Bakugo quickly realized that he had packed way too much food. Enough for two people, plus a bit extra. He heaved a sigh, resigning that he’d be taking some home and unwrapped the sandwich for himself. After finishing the sandwich, he gave himself some time to let his food settle before hitting the trail, again.

Something was wrong.

It wasn’t until Bakugo had nearly reached the peak when he thought he heard the sound of a joyous laugh and thought he felt the brush of a shoulder against his own, that he realized what it was. Growing up, he’d always considered himself as independent and introverted. He didn’t need anyone except himself. Over the past couple of years at U.A., however, something had changed. He was barely aware of it happening, but as he stood on top of the mountain all by himself, it was more than the view that was put into clear perspective.

Kirishima was supposed to be with him on this trip. They had planned it out together, albeit somewhat reluctantly on Bakugo’s part. He wasn’t reluctant because he didn’t want to go with his best friend. It was rather out of sheer stubbornness that he would rather go alone. Bakugo had pretended to cave even though he knew from the start that he would agree to the trip. He loved hiking and it wouldn’t be so bad to share that with his best friend.

Best friend; it was a term that had held an odd weight since the end of their first year. Bakugo felt as though it wasn’t an accurate description of what Kirishima was to him. He had never been able to work it out, though, a part of him a bit too nervous to look too closely at it. So, he ignored the part of his heart that flipped at Kirishima’s shark-toothed grin and the easy way in which they touched so casually.

A week ago, however, Bakugo had happened to walk in on Kirishima talking to Sero in the locker room after class. The redhead had said something about finally confessing his feelings at the top of the mountain they were hiking. Rage had filled him as he rounded the corner, seeing the color drain from Kirishima’s face as panic rose to the redhead’s features.

Bakugo had screamed a multitude of obscenities at him. He couldn’t remember all of them, but none of them had been nice. Most of them hadn’t even been true. He definitely remembered telling Kirishima that romance was for idiots with nothing better to do and that he couldn’t be the number one hero if he wasn’t giving it his all. He also remembered saying something along the lines of barely being able to tolerate the idiot’s presence.

A flash of hurt had crossed Kirishima’s face by that point, only to turn into anger as Bakugo kept going, yelling something about how he’d be better off without some fucking extra following at his heels all the time. Angry tears had sprung to Kirishima’s eyes as he’d shoved against Bakugo’s chest and pushed him away.

More angry words were exchanged between the two of them before Kirishima finally stormed out, red-faced and barely holding back tears. Sero said nothing before following the redhead out, leaving Bakugo to seethe in his own anger. He wasn’t even sure why he was really all that pissed off about it.

Breathing in the mountain air, Bakugo reflected on his anger and slowly came to an understanding. Hearing Kirishima’s accidental confession forced Bakugo to look closer at his own feelings. Feelings that he wasn’t ready to analyze that thoroughly, yet. His chest tightened as he looked up to the clear, afternoon sky. The answer was so glaringly obvious that he couldn’t ignore it or cover it with his anger, anymore.

Fuck. He really owed Kirishima an apology. Several apologies. That idiot. His idiot. A frustrated grin spread across his face as he realized he had no idea how to even go about it. He knew, though, that it couldn’t wait, not even another day for his trip to end.

After making sure his pack was secured tightly, sparks flew from his palms as he turned them downwards and propelled himself into the sky. He’d probably get his ass chewed out if his teachers got wind of him using his quirk like this, but fuck it. Bakugo blasted himself to the bottom of the mountain in a matter of minutes to catch the last bus back to U.A..

It was already dark by the time he burst into the commons, panting from running so hard. Everyone was gathered for a game night and several eyes turned to stare at him as he stomped forward. All of them except the only ones that matter. “Hey, Bakugo, weren’t you supposed to be camping this weekend?” He ignored the question as Kirishima finally, slowly, turned to face him.

There was no familiar smile to greet him, no emotion at all as Kirishima leveled Bakugo with a flat look. Bakugo grit his teeth, refusing to back down from the redhead’s expression. His brows drew low over his eyes as he bit out, “I need to talk to you. Now.” Kirishima’s mouth pressed into a hard line and he turned back around.

“No.”

Bakugo saw the telltale blur of rage around the edges of his sight, but he deflated almost immediately. What did he expect, honestly? He’d said horrible things and then ignored Kirishima for the past week. He wouldn’t want to talk to him, either.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he forced his gaze away from the back of Kirishima’s head and huffed with frustration. “Fine.” He shuffled from the commons and punched the button on the elevator, feeling the shocked expressions of their classmates on his back.

Unfamiliar emotions had welled within his chest at Kirishima’s rejection as he rode the elevator. He wondered if this was anything like what the redhead had felt when Bakugo had yelled at him. Fuck, he really was awful if this was even a fraction of what Kirishima had felt. The tightness in his chest was nearly unbearable.

Once in his room, he discarded his backpack and stripped down. He was sweaty and dirty from his hike and he needed a shower. Hopefully, while he got clean, he’d be able to think of some way to get Kirishima to talk to him. His shower was quick, though, and he hadn’t come up with a single idea. It was clear that he really wasn’t made for all this emotional shit, which only served to piss him off.

Wearing clean clothes, he scrubbed his hair dry with a towel as he made his way back to his room. Distracted as he was, Bakugo couldn’t react quickly enough as a pair of hands grabbed him suddenly and pushed him into his room, snapping the door shut behind them. His breath left him in a rush as he was shoved back against the door and angry red eyes met his own.

“Kirishima, what the fu-” Bakugo was cut off as Kirishima’s fist slammed against the door next to his head. Silence stretched between them for a moment as they both breathed heavily.

“You know, for someone who’s constantly calling me an idiot, you can be pretty stupid.” Kirishima finally spoke. Bakugo should have been pissed at that, but he couldn’t bring himself to get even a little mad. All he could do was give Kirishima a hard stare, no heat in his gaze.

“Yeah, I know. I said some pretty shitty things to you. I shouldn’t have. I… didn’t really mean what I said.” Kirishima’s eyes widened at the half apology, then a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth, much to Bakugo’s surprise.

“If I really thought you meant any of that, then I never knew you at all.” Bakugo felt like the air had been punched from his lungs as relief washed over him. Of course, Kirishima knew. Kirishima always knew him better than anyone else. With a shaky hand, Bakugo reached out to grab a fistful of Kirishima’s shirt and nodded, lowering his gaze as he suddenly felt weak in the knees. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have to apologize, though, you jerk.”

Bakugo’s head snapped up to face the redhead, again, his fist in the fabric tightening. “Kirishima-”

“Eijirou. Call me by my first name.”

Bakugo blinked, caught somewhat off guard, and he felt his heart speed up rapidly in his chest. A small frown etched onto his face, heat rising in his cheeks. “I- Eijiro, I’m sorry. For all the things I said and didn’t mean. I wasn’t angry at you, not really.” His other hand rose to join the one clutching Kirishima’s shirt, grabbing another fistful of fabric and tugging the redhead closer.

“I know. I forgive you.” Kirishima let himself be pulled closer, leaning into Bakugo until their mouths met in a hesitant kiss. It lasted barely a second before Kirishima was pulling back, looking unsure. “Does this mean… that you accept my feelings? I- I don’t want to burden you, Bakugo.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Idiot. If I’m calling you by your first name, then you’re calling me by mine, too.” His features softened as he pulled Kirishima back to him. “Don’t make me fucking spell it out for you.” Bakugo tugged him back in the rest of the way, kissing him with more confidence. Kirishima let out a soft whimper as their tongues mingled together and Bakugo released his shirt in favor of wrapping his arms around his best friend.

Except Kirishima wasn’t his best friend, he was so much more than that. Bakugo felt as though an empty slot had suddenly filled within himself as Kirishima returned the embrace. The wrong had been righted and a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Finally, breathless from their kisses, they broke apart and grins spread across their faces. Kirishima looked a bit sheepish while Bakugo wore a shit-eating grin. They sat down together on the floor and decided to talk about how they’d handle their new relationship. Many of their friends were already aware of how Kirishima felt, but it was anyone’s guess whether Bakugo actually returned those feelings.

Bakugo didn’t care what anyone thought, but Kirishima was still somewhat hesitant to make their relationship known. After some discussion, they decided the dorms were safe enough to be open, but they wouldn’t engage in any affection at school. They mutually agreed that it was best to appear professional or they could risk expulsion. Their discussion turned to lighter topics after that, and more making out, as they talked late into the night until they both fell asleep on the floor.

Bakugo woke up first the next morning, grumbling over his sore back as he sat up. All complaints were forgotten, however, as his gaze fell on his best- no, his boyfriend’s sleeping face. A soft smile graced his features as he thought that the new term fit Kirishima better than ‘best friend’ ever had. Reaching out, he brushed a bit of flat red hair from his face before catching himself and blushing hard. Thank goodness Kirishima slept like a fucking rock.

Getting up, he grabbed his pillow and propped it under Kirishima’s head and threw a blanket over him before heading downstairs to the kitchen to cook breakfast. While he cooked, Kaminari and Sero walked into the kitchen stretching and yawning. At the sight of Bakugo, Kaminari got a devious grin on his face.

“Isn’t that so sweet, Sero? Bakugo is making breakfast for his new boyfriend. Damn, one night and Kirishima’s already got him domesticated.” Bakugo’s hand froze over the stove at Kaminari’s words before slowly turning to him with a hard glare.

“Hah? The fuck did you just say, dunce face? Pretty early to be wishing to get your ass blasted to smithereens.” Bakugo growled, his hand popping with sparks as he aimed it towards Kaminari. Sero stepped between them, hands raised as he tried to placate their explosive friend.

“C’mon, Bakugo, he’s just teasing. Like you said, it’s too early for this.” Kaminari didn’t back down, though.

“Yeah, Bakugo, come on. Just spill the deets! I know Kirishima didn’t go back to his room last night~” Kaminari barely had time to gloat before Bakugo was in his face with an explosion.

“You fucking pervert! I’ll kill you!” Bakugo knew he was red in the face, which didn’t help his case, but he didn’t have long to chase the idiot around the kitchen as Kirishima showed up. Yawning and scratching the back of his neck, Kirishima took in the scene before him with a frown.

“Seriously, you guys? Can you not rile him up this early in the morning? I’m not awake enough to keep him from actually hurting you.” Bakugo seethed, ready to bark back at the redhead for thinking he could stop him, anyway, but a heavy weight pressed against his back as Kirishima draped his arms over his shoulders from behind. Bakugo nearly staggered under the unexpected weight as Kirishima tiredly leaned onto him.

“Stand on your own, idiot! How am I supposed to cook with you hanging on me like this?!” Bakugo growled as Kirishima pouted. Even so, Kirishima’s weight lessened, but he kept his arms draped over Bakugo’s shoulders. Bakugo felt a slight shiver pass down his spine as Kirishima’s face pressed against the side of his neck to watch him cook. “Seriously? I’m not going to cook for you if you keep this up.”

“But I’m tired, Katsuki, and the food smells good.” The pout in Kirishima’s voice was heavy as more of his weight settled onto Bakugo’s back, again.

“Then lean on the fucking counter!” Bakugo growled, shrugging his shoulders lightly in a lame attempt to get Kirishima off of him. He felt a flush crawling up his neck to his face as he realized he could actually feel Kirishima’s pout against his skin. It also didn’t help that he knew that Kaminari and Sero were staring at them. He ducked his head and lowered his voice. “The eggs are gonna burn.”

With a heavy sigh, Kirishima straightened himself and practically rolled his body away from Bakugo to lean on the counter right next to the stove. Bakugo frowned as Kirishima folded his arms on top of the counter and rested his head on top of them to watch him cook with a wide yawn. His ungelled hair fell softly to frame his face and Bakugo couldn’t help but think that it was cute.

Reaching over, he gently pushed some of the red hair back from Kirishima’s face, stroking his cheek a little as he did. “You shouldn’t lean next to the hot stove like that, idiot.” Kirishima only grinned back at him, not budging an inch.

“That’s okay. I can handle the heat.” He snickered as Bakugo’s jaw dropped and his face nearly went atomic.

“You guys sure nothing happened last night? I mean, no one would blame you…” Kaminari’s voice came from behind them where he and Sero had taken a seat at the kitchen island. Kirishima lifted his head to shoot him a disapproving frown.

“Kaminari, that’s-”

Kirishima was quickly cut off as sparks flew from Bakugo’s palm in Kaminari’s direction. “None of your fucking business, dunce face! So shut the hell up about it!” Kaminari lifted his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay! I’ll drop it, sheesh!” Kaminari rolled his eyes, slumping to rest his chin in his hand on the counter. “Damn, to think Bakugo would lose it, first. Didn’t see that one coming.” Sero glanced over at Bakugo nervously, who was now shaking with anger.

Kirishima placed a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder and squeezed gently before turning a deep frown on Kaminari. “Dude, not cool. Seriously, though, nothing happened. We just had a really long talk, okay?” Bakugo lightly shrugged off Kirishima’s hand so that he could plate their breakfast.

Kaminari huffed. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it, then.” His eyes immediately lit up, however, as Bakugo nearly slammed an omelette in front of him. “Oh, nice, a rice omelette! What’s the occasion?” Another one was set in front of Sero, who gave his thanks to the chef.

Kirishima was given two omelettes and Bakugo took one for himself before heading to the commons to eat, yelling something about how Kaminari didn’t even deserve one. Kirishima beamed as he began to follow Bakugo. “They’re my favorite breakfast,” he told Kaminari as he slipped from the kitchen.

As the two of them ate together, they found themselves falling back into their normal, easy companionship. Kirishima chatted between bites at times while Bakugo would answer occasionally in his short, gruff way. The only difference was their thighs pressed together and the soft smiles that passed between them in the silence while they chewed.

Just as they had finished eating, standing up to clean their dishes, Aizawa came into the dorms. “Bakugo. I need you to come with me to my office. I got a complaint about the misuse of quirks outside of the school.” Bakugo let out an annoyed ‘tsk’, but didn’t argue. Kirishima took his plate from him with a worried expression. Without a word of reassurance, Bakugo turned to follow their teacher, hands shoved into his pockets, and left the cleaning up to the redhead.

It was nearly lunch by the time Bakugo returned to the dorms and most of their class was gathered in the commons, including Kirishima. His entrance had gone unnoticed and Bakugo paused behind the couch, staring at the back of Kirishima’s head with a small frown. His gaze traced the soft strands of red hair and the way that it rested against the curve of Kirishima’s neck, admiring how it moved subtly with every movement of his head.

With sudden realization, Bakugo found that it was all familiar to him, but he’d never really taken the time to appreciate the view. His boyfriend was manly, sure, but he was also damn gorgeous. As though driven by some unknown force, Bakugo approached Kirishima from behind and wrapped his arms around him.

Kirishima went completely still, rigid with surprise as Bakugo pressed an open mouthed kiss against his jaw, just below the ear. “Go get dressed.” He whispered huskily into Kirishima’s ear. “I’m gonna shower and then we’re going on a date.” Bakugo grinned, ignoring the stares of their classmates as Kirishima’s skin darkened to match his hair color. Without waiting for an answer, Bakugo straightened and headed for the showers.

Twenty minutes later, they met in the foyer. When Bakugo came down in his jeans and a black button down with the top two buttons undone, he came up short as his breath left him at the sight of Kirishima. The redhead had finally spiked up his hair and was speaking casually with Pink Cheeks. With jeans that hugged him in all the right places and his favorite Crimson Riot t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest, Kirishima was drool-worthy in his leather jacket.

He didn’t have enough time to catch his breath as he approached Kirishima. A curt look was all it took to shut up Uraraka and send her on her way as she turned even pinker. Kirishima turned towards Bakugo and blushed brightly, reaching up to rub the back of his own neck nervously.

“You, um, you look nice, Katsuki.” Kirishima shot him a nervous smile that Bakugo returned in confidence.

“Of course, I do. You look fucking hot, though.” Bakugo snickered as Kirishima’s blush deepened while his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. The redhead immediately became too flustered at the unexpected compliment to do anything but stand there in a mild panic, so Bakugo shoved him out the door. “C’mon. I’m fucking starving. You can gay panic later, idiot.”

This seemed to snap Kirishima out of it as his steps turned from barely a shuffle to full strides. “I wasn’t- I- You never say stuff like that! How am I supposed to react?!” Bakugo barked out a laugh at that.

“You say ‘thank you’ and move the fuck on.” Kirishima pouted a little, but still muttered his thanks as the two of them left school grounds for the nearby shopping district. Bakugo led them to one of his favorite places to eat where Kirishima could get a meat dish and he could still get himself something that was plenty spicy to suit his own tastes.

While they waited for their food, Kirishima asked about what happened with Aizawa and Bakugo explained how he’d used his quirk to blast himself down the mountainside. Kirishima laughed, delighted that he was important enough to risk getting in trouble for. Bakugo shrugged it off, though. 

He’d barely gotten a slap on the wrist since there was minimal damage to the environment. Just some minor scorch marks on the ground where he’d launched himself and a few near where he landed. Bakugo explained the reason he’d taken so long was because, as punishment, Aizawa had made him run laps and do fifty push ups between each one. This made Kirishima cringe slightly as he expressed his sympathy, but Bakugo shrugged that off as well.

After they’d eaten, they decided to take a walk around the district and look at the different shops as they strolled by. Kirishima spoke excitedly about a few of the shops, Bakugo quietly giving special attention to the things the redhead expressed interest in. After a while, though, Kirishima fell silent.

A block and a half later, when Kirishima still hadn’t spoken, Bakugo glanced over to see him plucking nervously at his jacket. Letting out a huff, he bumped his shoulder against the redhead’s to get his attention. “Spit it out, Ei. What’s on your mind?” Kirishima spluttered a bit at the nickname, his steps slowing until he finally stopped. Bakugo stopped a couple steps ahead, turning around to wait patiently for Kirishima to say what was on his mind.

“Eijirou.” Kirishima’s gaze snapped up at Bakugo calling his name, his arms pressing against his sides as he stopped fidgeting with his jacket.

“Sorry, um, it’s just…,” Kirishima hesitated, “I know we’re on a date, right now. It’s just that… you haven’t actually said how you feel. We didn’t bring it up, really, when we talked about our relationship last night. I feel like I’ve just been assuming and that maybe you’re humoring me so that we can just be friends, again.” Bakugo blinked at him as a long silence stretched between them.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Kirishima flinched at Bakugo’s harsh words, then ducked his head as his face flushed. Bakugo crossed the distance between them and grabbed a fistful of Kirishima’s shirt, nearly snarling. “What did you say yesterday about knowing me? Tell me, would I go to the trouble if we were just going to be friends? What part of our friendship made you think that I was a liar?” Kirishima’s gaze snapped up to Bakugo’s in a panic.

Firm hands met the fist on Kirishima’s shirt. “No! No, that’s not what I meant! I’m sorry, I’m not always good with my words. I just… It’s just that you’re acting so differently than you usually do and, and I’m so surprised. I really thought you were going to turn me down.” Bakugo eased his hold on Kirishima’s shirt, finally letting go as he stepped back and glanced away.

“Oh. That.” Bakugo chewed his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to figure out what to say. “I’m not good at this whole… feeling thing, but…,” His gaze lifted to meet Kirishima’s, “Up on that mountain, I realized a lot of things. You were supposed to be there with me, and you weren’t. It felt wrong, and it just- it wasn’t the same without you.” He barely got the words out before strong arms were embracing him and Bakugo closed his eyes, finally feeling as though everything was right as he hugged Kirishima back.

[johnkrrasinski]

Coffee with Cream

Chapter 2: Dream of You

full masterlist

series masterlist

Pairings: Frank Castle x reader x Mad Sweeney

Word count: 2,693

Warnings: cussing, mentions of alcohol, street fight, men being men. 

Summary: Two men, one diner and little old you. Working at a diner had never been your dream job but, fate had a funny way of bringing two contrasted men into your life.

a/n: hey guys! as you all know my obsession over frank castle and pablo schreiber had been exploding these past couple of months. and so, me and @nellblazer decided to write a good old threesome fic involving these two bulky men. hope you like it. enjoy!

You laid in your bed that night with a romance novel that you hadn't had the chance to pick up and finish in awhile due to the weariness of working double shifts. It's the same old pattern for the last few years; you'd get up early for your morning shift at the diner, rushed back home to take a little break, and possibly enjoy your catnaps before your second alarm rings for your night shift. 

And then when the night was ending, you'd take another bus to get yourself home, take a shower and eat your takeout or heat up your frozen pizza, and went to bed. For years, life was merely a repetitive cycle of humdrum. You barely had time for yourself due to your relentless endeavour to stay afloat. 

Living in Brooklyn when you come from a middle-class family means that you really had to fight tooth and nail to pay the bills and fill your fridge. You were raised to be an independent and hardworking person by your parents and that's why it wasn't much of a challenge for you to work double shifts at a diner when you could've taken one. You taught yourself to push through your boundaries in life, and you were aware that sometimes it's not always convenient but at least you were proud of your own effort. 

That also means you didn't have time to swipe right and left on Tinder and find yourself a date. It was nearly impossible to find a decent guy in Brooklyn, let alone trusting a dating app that could possibly be utilized by creeps or murderers to find their next victim. Although your co-workers had suggested it many times to you, you refused to present yourself to the angels of death just simply you were desperate to get laid. 

But tonight was different from the others. It was comical, really, how one, well, two, actually people could walk into your life, okay that was dramatic, walk into a diner and elevated the sour mood that you had grown used to in recent years, and made a difference. A good one.

You couldn't remember the last time you had a genuine smile on your face. You also couldn't remember when was the last time you felt butterflies in your stomach. And here you are, lying in bed, replaying the scenes that took place earlier. In the daylight when the bustle was in full swing and in the nighttime when the city was placid.

You barely knew anything about them and you had only met them in less than 24 hours, but, you could still remember the way Frank Castle made you feel when his brown eyes stared intensely into yours as he shook your hand. The quiet yet magnetic force that he exuded only compelled you to learn more about him. In the brief conversation that you had earlier, you knew that he was a wanderer of a man.

He'd been hoping from one place to another, but he was thinking of staying in Brooklyn for a while and you were hoping that nothing changes his mind about that. You were really hoping that you'd see him again real soon.

And then, your thoughts drifted to the second man that you encountered with earlier. His auburn hair burned the lights in the room, causing a small fire that you didn't light up. But his amorous words had left you starstruck in a way that you didn't know was possible. You weren't one to stumble on a brazenly flirtatious man but something about him was too tempting to be overlooked. And the fact that he had this eccentric thing for coins made you wonder... What else has he got up in his sleeve?

Sweeney hadn't been able to get you off his mind all night.

The grumpy server who'd taken over had definitely not been a patch on your sunny optimism or brimming curiosity. He couldn't remember the last time a girl was so interested in his stories. Usually he got brushed off as a leering drunk or just a plain old letch but you'd entertained him, asked questions and given him a form of fresh cream to boot, all for him. A form of worship as it was.

You hadn't realised it of course, nobody ever believes in gods these days unless they're the Big Three or the Norse pantheon. Little old Sweeney with his Celtic cohort was hardly going to register on anyone's radar. I mean, fuck, nobody could even say his actual name right, let alone believe he was a god.

Even so, he felt refreshed, more refreshed than he'd been in years and when he got absolutely blasted on whiskey, the feeling was not the same as it was. The crippling existentialism was gone to be replaced by joyfulness and he sang most of the way home, thoroughly amusing everyone on his way back with his rude songs. He even danced with an old lady like they used to do in the twenties which he thought had made her night as she blushed furiously and began saying it'd been a while since she'd danced with a young man in the street.

Sweeney was having the time of his life, precisely up until he got in the alleyway and his loud singing got him into trouble.

There was a group of thugs hanging around in the middle, trying to sort something out but Sweeney didn't care to venture too close to find out what precisely.

“-Well I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me, who owns that thing in your thing where my own thing should be!” he belts out, stumbling slightly in their direction and he sees the flash of irritation on their faces.

The next thing he knew he was getting dog piled on. Bodies seemed to leap on him from every corner and all he could think about was protecting his coin at all costs so he sent it in the Hoard, the magical hiding place for his treasure and once he'd taken a few harsh licks to the gut, he tried to pull himself together to fight back.

Drunken brawling was his speciality after all.

He wasn't expecting it when a couple of the gang members were yanked off of him. He took the opportunity to jump back to his feet, delivering a haymaker to the nearest lad who's cheek splintered under his weighted punch. The kid dropped to the floor like a stone, howling about his face.

The next man behind him, he twisted and grabbed around the middle, running them backwards to the edge of a dumpster before letting go and watching his head clang noisily off the metal as they fell backwards.

Oh it had been a good long while since he'd had a fight. He missed the adrenalin, he missed the cracking of bones and the taste of blood. It spoke to his soul that was millennia old when the world was war, ale and feasting.

Sweeney finally looked up to see that another man was fighting with him, a shorter man, stockier and well built, a nose that'd been broken at least once and the buzzcut styling of an ex-military man. The newcomer shifted his position and Sweeney saw a painted skull on his chest. His first thought was that Baron Samedi was expanding his worshipper's network but it didn't make sense for the Baron to recruit a soldier when he preferred his company to be a little more love and less war.

Who the fucking hell was this guy?

“You okay?” the man asks gruffly as he sees Sweeney staring at him. “Get out. Run.”

“I ain't fuckin' runnin',” Sweeney wrinkles his face in offence. “Do I look like a pansy to you?”

“You look fuckin' drunk is what ya look,” Skull Man counters, elbowing an attacker in the mouth. “I'll handle it. Run home.”

“Callin' me a coward?” Sweeney squares up. “I don't run, boy-o.”

“Really?” Skull Man raises an eyebrow. “Ain't the time for pride, Big Red. Fight or don't fight then. I don't care. Just stay outta my way with that one.”

He points to the man who Sweeney had knocked out on the dumpster. His eyelids were fluttering as he started to regain consciousness.

“What's it worth to ya?” Sweeney shrugs.

“Are you fuckin' kidding me?!” Skull Man storms over, coming up until he was chest to chest. “I save your ass and this is what I get?”

“Didn't ask to be saved, lad.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, right back.”

Just at the point where Sweeney is curling his fingers into a fist, ready to give a good old right hook, he's hit hard in the head from behind and goes down onto his forearms, scuffing them with pebbles and dirt. He scrambles unsteadily to his feet, feeling a little trickle of blood oozing down the path of his hair and sees Skull Man beating the living shit out of the dumpster guy before finishing him off with his bare hands.

Sweeney, meanwhile, jumps back into the fist fight, taking down every other gang member who'd dared to get back up. They make a break for it, running desperately down into the other alleyways and out of sight.

“You'd better run!” Sweeney bellows after them. “You'd all be fucked if I still had my spear. I WAS A FUCKING KING ONCE, YOU CUNTS!”

“I've heard some drunk talk in my time but you...” Skull Man shakes his head. “You're crazy, huh?”

“I'm a god, mate,” Sweeney holds out his arms proudly, swaying on the spot.

“Sure ya are.”

“And what the fuck are you, murderer?”

“Nobody you need to know about. You ain't seen me. I don't exist. I'm just taking out the trash of this city.”

“Oh aye? Are ya? And what did he do?”

“Shot up a playground.”

“Oh...” Sweeney tails off, looking at the dead man on the floor. “Well....good then. Good work. Bastard deserved it.”

He holds out his hand and Skull Man shakes it warily. Sweeney got the sense the guy didn't interact with people much because the handshake was stilted, unsure.

“Got a name?” Sweeney asks. “Or are ya hellbent on being mysterious?”

“It's Frank,” the guy replies after a pause. “But I was-

“-Never here, I got that,” Sweeney snorts. “I'm Sweeney.”

“Sweeney the God. A'ight, go on home then. I got clean up to do.”

“Nice fightin', by the way,” Sweeney calls over his shoulder. “See ya around, Frank.”

“I fuckin' hope not,” comes the quiet response.

Sweeney didn't care though. He was too elated to care. Good booze, a good fight and the promise of going back to that sweet little diner where you were.

He'd have to come in earlier just to spend more time around you. He wanted to know everything about you and more than anything, he wanted to see your smile again.

A god he may be but your smile was absolutely magical.

He sang the whole rest of the way home, already looking forward to tomorrow.

[bluehero]

The Sergeant’s Soulmate Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky X Y/N

Warnings: Swearing... but really just tooth rotting fluff (I’ve always wanted to say that)

A/N: So this is really happening guys... God help us all.

Word Count: 2,368

Chapter 1

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Her eyes fluttered open to the sun peeking through her blinds. One of the rays shone a line of light onto the floor illuminating Bucky’s lazily curled tie. She immediately felt the cold from the side of the bed the soldier had left, and her mind began to whir with insecurities. Did he think I was a drunk mess? He probably saw me in daylight and ran. How many women has he been with before? Before she could spiral any further, she hopped into the shower, threw on some clothes and heard a knock at the door. Shuri came bouncing in asking how she was liking her room as her eyes scanned around while placing 2 coffees on the ivory vanity. The tie. Shit. “Is that a tie?”. Damn it. Y/N realized she had to be at her lab for a meeting with her boss to plan her research project in 20 minutes, and in an effort to avoid the inevitable follow up question she grabbed the coffee and took a sip with eyes unable to meet Shuris’ own wide with amusement. “ Oh my god, was someone here last night?”. Y/N couldn’t help the blush spreading across her face remembering her uncharacteristically reckless behaviour. “Oh my god, how long has it been sin-“ Shuri began before being hit by a pillow thrown by a giggling Y/N. She avoided telling Shuri about Bucky in fear of what she would say and if she would disapprove. She knew that Shuri had been working with him and his mind - even asking Y/N for her professional opinion on psychological drugs once but never divulging too much out of respect and confidentiality. Before Shuri could get a name from Y/N they both had to get to work and promised to call each other when they could.

An entire week rolled by as she set up her lab and briefed her team on how they were to run their experiments while juggling all of her own. They all thought she was too young to be where she was and didn’t exactly hide those feelings but that only spurred her on to work harder and make those that cared for her, proud. But thoughts of her connection with Bucky kept swirling around her brain making it hard to concentrate. So most days, she worked late into the night trying to shift all her energy to focus on anything other than the visceral memories of that night like the way Bucky’s hands felt… the smooth and cool metal extinguishing the flames exuding from her body, contrasting with the soft and scorching skin of his human hand. From what she had read about Captain America’s best friend, she already felt like she had no place imposing on his life, not being able to fathom what it must have felt like to wake up in the future with anything and everything he once cared about left dead in the past. Then finding out you’d been a mindless assassin at Hydra’s mercy. It was just one night Y/N you idiot, he probably doesn’t even remember your name, get over it.

Every time his eyes would close as his head hit his pillow, he would see her smiling in the moonlight and the way her hair glittered in the low lighting of the hall while they danced. He thought he could get away with falling asleep with the images of her swirling around his brain. But they weren’t enough to overpower his own insecurities that would take over and scramble together nightmares of his past. So as soon as the dreams would turn to terror he’d be in the gym, going for a run in the darkness or counting stars by the lake near his hut despite often staying in the room given to him by the King at his headquarters – anything to push himself to a state of exhaustion that his body had no choice but to shut down. She’ll be gone in 2 weeks, she should forget me.

“Somethings up with you Buck” Steve muttered as he poured himself and Natasha coffee in the communal kitchen on the floor given to the Avengers by the King for their brief stay and their general business. “Tin mans always moody, Cap” Sam piped up from across the room with half a bagel in his mouth, Clint laughed as he stole the other half. “What’s her name?” Natasha purred with a raised eyebrow. “What makes you think it’s a girl Natasha?” Clint asked smiling, leaning back into the breakfast bar chair. “That’s his third coffee, black” she said as she sauntered around the table passing Bucky’s chair to reside by Steve. “Somebody’s giving him sleepless nights…”. “Anybody else got somethin’ to say?” Bucky grumbled, trying to hide that he felt slightly touched that the other avengers cared for him enough to probe into his growing personal life. He got up and left the room as Steve caught up with him out of earshot of the others. “I know the nightmares don’t go away Buck, but if there’s anything you wanna talk about…” Steve began in a quieter voice. “Its not- not that Steve” Bucky replied curtly. Realising his tone, Bucky softly comforted his friend that had concern etched across his face, “Don’t worry about me pal, I’ll be fine”. "Is it that scientist Buck?” Steve asked earnestly. Bucky rolled his eyes at his attempt to continue Natasha's line of questioning, "Stev-". "Is she kind?" Steve interjected. Bucky gave in, unable to lie to his best friend but also trying his hardest not to push him away anymore. “...Smart too” he said unable to stop his eyes from shining and half of his mouth curling upward into a bashful lopsided grin. “She can’t be that smart if she’s hanging around you.” He said pulling Bucky in for a hug. “She’s uh- she’s not really, I mean we uh-“ Bucky mumbled. “Have you seen her since the party?” Steve asked like they were kids again. Bucky let out a nervous laugh and replied “Uh, no but, well-” eyes looking anywhere other Steve. “So she doesn’t know how you feel huh?”. Bucky gave him the same look he did that night when Steve told him to talk to her. But his face was clouded with a slight fear now that something had been stirred up in his once frozen heart. I’m no good for her Steve, she’s kind, smart, funny and deserves safety... stability... She’s probably got men lining down the block for her. “She’s probably forgotten about me Steve it’s been a week- the sooner she does the better”. Bucky grumbled.

It was Friday. Y/N had broken a few conical flasks, dropped a bottle of dye, managed to corrupt her computers' files and had a nasty headache. Safe to say she wasn’t having the best day. Mentally, physically and emotionally she was exhausted after such an intense week and needed a break. Despite being intelligent and capable, she couldn't deny that she got overwhelmed quickly and it attacked her self esteem first, before burning through everything else. Whenever she felt it all pile up like that she only knew of one immediate relief -messaging Shuri. Normally separated by continents, Shuri was only a few floors up from Y/N's lab and she received the distress call, one text with one emoji. 😩. She sent Y/N a message back about not believing it had been an entire week since she’d arrived and had seen her last. She told Y/N to stop by her lab after work so they could get together, vent, gorge on ice cream and have a night of complete relaxation.

Finally leaving of her lab after being able to retrieve a few files, Y/N felt slightly better. But she still felt like putting on her headphones, blasting loud music and wallowing in that sad place she managed to crawl into now and again, while walking up to Shuri’s lab. So she turned up the volume and pressed play, forgetting she set her playlist on shuffle and had to suffer 5 agonizing seconds of My Funny Valentine before she could skip it and stop her senses from being yanked back to that night. But there she was, heart racing again and palms sweating, lost in thoughts of the way his shoulders protected her from the crowds of the party, and the way his hands would tighten around her waist, grounding her in the safety of his embrace. But these were short lived when she’d arrive at the bittersweet memory of her empty bed. The sound of Eminem filled her ears and turned her yearning into fake anger as she approached the lab. Feeling gangster, she opened the door slowly with her back with her eyes glued to the phone she was fiddling with, trying to close some apps. “Shuri lets fuck shit up-“ she said loudly over her music just before looking up and taking off her headphones.

Her body froze as her eyes landed on the tensed muscular arm taking up the image of Bucky’s side profile. Shit. He was laid back in a chair with Shuri just finished labelling a blood sample she’d taken when her pen ran out. “Y/N! Thank goodness you are here I may need your steady hands!” Shuri exclaimed trying not to burst out laughing at her friends words and obvious embarrassment. “Sergeant Barnes this is Y/N - one of the best scientists I know working on one of those fancy funded projects downstairs.” Shuri began shooting Y/N one of those teasing best friend smiles while Bucky couldn’t help his amused grin trying to bite back a laugh. “And Y/N this is Sergeant Barnes, The Winter Soldier himself, one of the avengers”. She gave him a red faced smile but before she could apologise for her outburst Shuri asked earnestly, “Y/N you think you could take a last blood sample from Barnes while I get another pen from the lab downstairs?”. Y/N couldn’t help but squeak out “Of course” as Shuri scurried out of the door after giving her a loving squeeze on the shoulder.

“I guess it was only a matter time before you got to my blood, doll” he said with a lopsided grin. “At least it’s been longer than a minute, Sergeant” she retorted unable to resist falling back into their natural rhythm as she washed her hands, gloved up and prepped the needle. Before he knew it, he was intoxicated by her perfume as she was by his side holding his elbow in place so lightly he could barely feel her fingertips. She raised the needle and when her eyes met his she let out a soft little “Hi”. She fell into his features and found her hand shaking a little. “You remembered all that huh” he muttered while watching her tired eyes try and concentrate. “S’hard to forget…” she whispered tiredly as she began to fiddle unnecessarily with the needle to hide her shaky hand. Believe me, I’ve tried. “You should try harder, doll” he said in spite of himself immediately realising she had taken it the wrong way when he saw her face fall slightly. “Y/N I didn’t me-“ he began, “It’s ok Bucky, I get it... things moved pretty quickly that night.” She muttered, trailing off at the end trying to brace herself for the rejection she convinced herself was inevitable. Please be gentle. “Doll I wish that night never ended” he whispered hesitantly unable to keep his head from suppressing his heart as it lurched at the thought of her feeling unwanted. “You- you... really, then wh- why did you leave?” She asked surprised not believing she had the courage to utter those words as her face filled with hope. “You uh, you wanted me to stay?” He asked hesitantly, while her hand slipped over his forearm ghosting her fingers down to wrap lightly around wrist. “That’s all I wanted” she whispered quietly as Bucky raised the hand she was still holding, to push a strand of hair from her face as he opened his palm slightly allowing her to rest her heavy head and letting her eyes half close in immediate comfort. “You look exhausted doll” Call me doll again. “I’m alright, just been working late and… well… trying to lead a bunch of people that don’t believe in me” she murmured leaning further into Bucky’s hand allowing her eyes to flutter shut not believing how easy it was to be honest with him. “Think you got the wrong avenger for that kinda advice” he drawled unable to stop himself from stroking her cheek with his thumb, feeling invincible after hearing he was wanted, by her. She let out a laugh at the thought of getting lessons in leadership from Captain America, “You got any advice for me, old man?” she teased as her eyes fluttered open slightly to see the playful glint in his uncharacteristically soft features. “Just, hold on to who you are, doll and never let’em see you fall” he muttered as his features darkened and jaw tensed, trying not to pull her into that dark part of his mind. She smiled at his unexpectedly profound words and unwrapped her fingers from his wrist to cover his hand still splayed across her cheek. “Thank you” she whispered heavy hearted, as her eyes beamed open. Shuri burst through the doors just as the pair dropped their hands. “So I had to fight your team just to borrow a pe-“ she began, “So much for your steady hands Y/N” she said laughing at the empty vial on the tray beside them. “Don’t worry it was just for backup anyway - I’ve think I’ve got enough, you ready to go?” she said grabbing her jacket. “Barnes I’ll see you Monday morning” she said pulling Y/N out of her daze by leading her towards the door. She gave him a mock salute before disappearing from the doorway that made Bucky flash a toothy grin not quite believing she was real. He rubbed the back of his neck and scuffed the toe of his boot on the edge of the chair unable to wipe the grin off his face. God help me.

[goldenchildkatsuki]

SORRY, WHAT’S THE TIME?

Kacchako Positivity Week Day 2: Roses

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki, now Pro Hero; Ground Zero, tries to protect his welcome home gift for his wife whilst racing against the clock.

Writers note: Here's my contribution for Day 2 of the Kacchako Positivity Week.  (see the end for notes)

Word count: 6.000

AO3 link: (x)

"Any questions? No? Fantastic. You're all dismissed."

Bakugou spun his chair around and stood up groaning. He was truly not made for being in a chair all day. His body felt sorer than after a day out patrolling the streets. Had the meeting gone on for any longer he probably wouldn't have been able to stand up.

The man put a hand on his lower back and curved it as his employees bowed and told him goodbye before leaving the conference room.

"Ah! Ground Zero! I'm glad I was still able to catch you, I thought you had already left," Bakugou's assistant stopped him as he took his coat.

He tried to go around the eager boy but kept getting blocked by his large clipboard, swaying in the way of every step he set forward.  

"I was about to, and I'm in a hurry, so what is it Danno?" Bakugou barked.

The young assistant put on his glasses he had shoved in his hair and flipped through several pages on his clipboard, licking his finger for every page he had to flip. Bakugou impatiently nodded along with every page he flipped, glaring at the student as if didn't hear him just say: ‘I'm in a hurry'.

Eventually, the assistant reached the page he needed and tapped with his finger on the first note he scribbled down. "Tamashiro Shinta," Danno slowly read out, "He wants to go over the plans for the renovations for the agency. Remember you-"

"-Yes, yes I remember now." Bakugou rubbed the folds between his brows with his thumb and index finger.

Lately, appointments had been piling up on him. The Pro Hero used to be very careful with filling up his schedule, knowing that when he first opened his agency he worked himself close to a burn-out. So excited to finally be operating as an independent Pro, he took on every meeting, every interview, every shoot and every bit of hero work that there was to do around his agency. Carelessly running around with a chicken without a head from location to location. Barely giving himself room to breathe and let stand rest for a minor moment.

One time, when he inevitably fell ill from not getting enough hours of sleep, he came close to dying on the job. At when he thought were his last moments he thought about home, and he was disappointed in himself when he realized how in that week he was rarely ever there. He couldn't even remember when he last ate at the dining table.

From that moment on Bakugou stopped being a yes-man. Not only did he realize it would've been such a lame note to end his life on, he started seeing it wasn't doing others in his life good either. In an attempt to better his unhealthy managing skills he interned Danno, a young and bright business class second-year student from UA. He asked him to work at his side to help him go through a clear and organized schedule, day to day.

But it seemed like Bakugou had managed to fall into his old habits again, unintentionally nonetheless. He had been too distracted by preparing Uraraka for Congress abroad. He knew how heroes abroad could act standoffish and he had to prepare her for that. Of course, he also had to double check the reviews on the hotel she booked, if the internet connection was crap he was bound to lose his mind that week. And what kind of husband would he be if he didn't take the time to read and give feedback on every single version of Uraraka's speech she had emailed him?

During that time he now remembered letting a few things slide. Or so he thought. It seemed like everyone had taken note of the mood Bakugou was in and had taken advantage of that. Asking for new additions to the agency or a day off, but mostly squeezing themselves into his schedule. This whole week had been particularly stuffed, but today especially was a hectic day. Meeting after meeting. Everything could be run without him and needed his consent and input, which most of the time he lived for but that day he wondered if it was really that important. Did he really have to be at a two-hour conference about the usage of plastic stir sticks at the agency?

"I tried to reschedule with him, sir, since today was already a very busy day and I know you couldn't afford that. My apologies, I should have noticed this sooner and canceled a few things. But when I tried to you almost insisted to put the appointments in your planner so I didn't know what to do! I understand if you doubt my abilities now, because honestly? I am too, maybe I shou-"

Bakugou took the clipboard from Danno hands and hit him in the head with it. The boy instantly stopped his rambling and blinked at him with wide eyes. The kid sure reminded him over a certain someone. He couldn't help but laugh at it, something he really wouldn't have done a decade ago.

"That's enough blabbering for now. You know damn well you did what you could."

As he spoke to him something outside the conference room caught his eye.

A cup he hadn't seen before.

"What the fuck is that?" Bakugou squinted and pointed over his assistant's shoulder.

Danno peeked over his shoulder and squinted too. "Eh…Oh! Those are cups that came with the new barista machine that recently came in? You know, the one that's located on the third floor, with all the syrups and whipped cream?"

"Whipped cream?! Are you fucking…? God damn it."

How could he have not thought twice about a stupid barista machine? Out of all the request, he let slide, he didn't think he would let this ridiculous one slide. Those people should be satisfied with straight black coffee, like the rest of the sleep-deprived world. Who needs syrups and cream, that eliminates the awful taste that keeps you awake and in the moment.

Those sweet tooth morons.

Bakugou started putting on his coat and pushed past Danno. "Never mind. Tell Tamashiro that I'm afraid we have to reschedule."

"I tried to but-!"

Right before the Pro Hero could make a right to go to the elevators a man popped up out a corner. With a wide grin and an armpit full of blueprints, he went to stand in front of Bakugou, almost causing them to bump heads. Bakugou cursed under his breath. The idiot almost got himself blasted to the other end of the hallway.

Based off Danno's deep sigh he had a fairly good idea of who the man was. He looked as eager as he sounded on the phone.

The man hurried the blueprints underneath his other arm and stuck his hand out.

"Tamashiro Shinta. It's truly an honor to finally meet you Ground Zero! It's even more of an honor that I was picked to work on one of your very first agencies. I've always admired the structures of your buildings, honestly, quite an inspiration for me. I'm sorry if I'm rambling I'm just…"

Nervous laughter escaped from Tamashiro's mouth and now Bakugou felt even worse for having to cancel on him. Not only did he have to disappoint him by rescheduling right in front of his face but he also turned out to be some sort of fan of his. A super fan judging by how sweaty his hand was.

Bakugou had no idea how to deal with this kind of things. No matter how many fans he met, if it was on the street or during happenings like this, he still didn't know how to handle the situation well. He remembered so well that when he was still in school he practically dreamed of having a fan base and having people fawn over him. But now he finally had people that admired him it wasn't all that great as he imagined.

Fans cry, scream, come close to passing out, throw themselves at you, cry. What was he supposed to do with someone that was crying because he existed? The first time he encountered a fan who cried was at his own agency. The fan literally bawled her eyes out. Bakugou started panicking so hard he ordered Danno to call Uraraka for advice on the situation but all his assistant came back with was;

"My apologies Ground Zero but all your wife did was laugh."

And that was the thing. You couldn't say no to those people. You couldn't say no to someone that's so full of emotions because of you. So how was he going to reschedule with Tamashiro without making a whole situation out of it?

Bakugou let go of the man's hand after shaking it for an uncomfortably long amount of time and awkwardly started shuffling towards the elevator.

"Alright. I did not prepare for this meeting so how about we…" The Pro Hero stretched out the pause in his sentence as he rapidly tapped on the elevator button going down.

"No biggie, Mister Ground Zero, I came prepared for the both of us!"

Tamashiro slipped into the elevator before him and waited on him to step in. Bakugou tried to hold in his sigh and dragged his feet into the elevator. The doors didn't even close or the man started opening up his prints and showing Bakugou things that looked familiar since he had seen them before in his father's office but didn't look familiar enough to know exactly what he was looking at.

The architect's hands slid from one corner of the paper to the other as he muttered to himself.

"Ah! Tiles, what do you think about tiles? I was thinking we go a tint darker than the ones you have now?"

Bakugou watched the numbers of the floors go down. "Fine." He flatly replied.

"Expansion of the reception and waiting area?"

"Why not?"

"How about we add a little patio?"

"Fuck it."

"And concerning your office, I was also thinking about creating something involving your wife? Something that reminds you of her?"

The elevator dinged, having reached the ground floor and Bakugou was the first one to walk out. He turned around and walked backwards over to the exit of his agency.

"Good that you mention her because I have to go do something that involves her."

Tamashiro just about managed to worm himself through the closing doors and tried to run after the hero.

"Oh, I-!" He stammered.

"We'll reschedule. Or do whatever the fuck you want, the fuck do I know about patios right?" Bakugou shouted from across the reception area.

He made sure to check Tamashiro's face before he went through the revolving door. He let out a relieved sigh when he saw the guy determinedly stuck a fist in the air and continued to smile as wide as he had been doing the whole time.

Thank God for that little opening Tamashiro created because he still had no idea how to interrupt the guy. Bakugou put on his battle gloves and started speed walking, constantly shaking his watch out of the sleeve of his black trench coat as he did. Like he expected he didn't have that much time left and every time the analog shifted he tried to speed up his pace.

Bakugou took some shortcuts, paced through alleys avoiding the busy areas of the city. Soon enough the buildings got lower and less modern and he ended up in the older parts of the city, the part that was yet to be renovated. In this particular uneventful area, it looked like everything moved slower. As if every single person, every single thing even, took their time to do whatever they were doing. Not because it was particularly important, but because they knew there was no need to hurry. Time seemed to be infinite there after all.

It was the exact reason why he enjoyed bringing Uraraka to that area. It felt good to step out of their busy and hectic lives for a moment and truly enjoy each other's presence. Especially, when time felt like it moved slower there. Though they would only go for a walk or to a café for lunch, it would feel like they had spent the whole day together and it would leave Bakugou less frustrated with the workload he left behind at the office as he looked forward to spending more time with her later on that day.

After a bit of zigzagging, the Pro Hero reached the lane where a small flower shop was located. When Bakugou and Uraraka were still students, they interned at the same agency during their last year of high school. And when they walked to the metro station Uraraka always managed to make them walk past the shop. She would linger around it and admire the flowers that had been stalled out. Ogling at the vibrant colors and taking in the peculiar scent of all the freshly watered flowers mixed together.

There was one flower she could spend hours looking at.

The red roses.

The roses in the flower shop were always in their prime and we're a real eyecatcher. The blood red color being insanely engulfing, the stems with thorns that looked so sharp they could seep blood from your finger just from grazing them. No matter what new and exotic flowers had been stalled out that day, she naturally gravitated towards the red roses.

A hopelessly pining Bakugou decided to hand her one, one day after passing them by for the umpteenth time.

"I don't want to miss the train again, so fuckin' bring it with you, alright?"

Bakugou tried to cover up his romantic gesture with a poor excuse.

Though it was poor, it was a smart move. But the execution could have been a bit better.

Not only did he panic and take a rose by its thorny stem in a last minute decision. The owner of the shop also thought he was about to steal the flower since he had been acting weirdly suspicious for a while and took the rose in such a hurry.

There was a lot of shouting, cursing, and blood, but it was the start of something. A stupid stunt, that hadn't been thought through at all, it has led them to what they had now. And though Bakugou refused to admit it, he could be a big old sap, and so for every special occasion, he would get roses from the same flower shop for Uraraka.

Since being invited to a global heroine Congress as a special guest was quite the special occasion he had to stop by the shop, yet again.

Bakugou walked through the door and a bell above him jingled. He frowned as he couldn't remember the last time he met the door shut. He looked around the shop and heard rummaging from the back. The shop owner came out stomping with a baseball bat in his hands, ready to swing.

The hero raised his hands and gestured for the old man to lower the bat. When he recognized his face, he laughingly lowered his guard and leaned on the bat.

"Oh, Katsuki! Sorry if I scared you there," the man continued to chuckle.

He walked over to the check-out and took out a pair of heavy gloves from underneath and slid them over his hands.

"So, what's the occasion? Does the missus finally have a bun in the oven?"

Bakugou jerked his head back and choked on the air he sharply inhaled. He put his hand in front of his mouth and tried to hide the red flush that was spreading across his face.

"W-well, uh, n-n-not yet, Imada. Ochako has been invited as a special guest to speak at a global heroines Congress. She's coming back home in a couple of hours so…"

"Roses it is," The flower shop owner smiled, took out every red rose he had out of their buckets and walked back to the counter.

Bakugou nodded, walked over to the bat the man dropped next to the counter and kicked at it. Confused he looked at Imada who was busy making the bouquet. Without looking up he scoffed.

"Ah that," he exhaled. "See, Katsuki, the neighborhood is not what it used to be. People have started to take advantage of the quiet. There have been three robberies in the past month and the police have done squat about it."

Bakugou stayed silent and continued to kick the bat. He couldn't say it out loud but he did feel responsible for what had happened. His agency was the closest to this neighborhood and should've been responsible for the crime rate. Especially since the police haven't noticed that it has risen in this area.  

He laid a hand on the counter and drummed with his fingers on the top of it.

"Imada, listen. I should've-"

Before he could finish his sentence the glass of the door suddenly shattered. Shortly after two plant pots got shattered as well, the dirt they contained covering the floor. Whooping followed after the shots and overly loud voices came close.

Bakugou pulled Imada down behind the counter and listened closely to the voices that had now entered the shop. Another couple of shots flew through the shop and destroyed the vases stalled behind the counter. Imada cowered as the glass fell before his feet and shot a worried look at Bakugou.

"Hey, old man!" someone yelled from a part of the shop. "Did you really think we wouldn't come back just because you started swinging some bat around?"

The hero hung his head. He could make out about four different voices coming from behind the counter. Based on how many times the gun was cocked and the type of bullets on the floor it was safe to say there was only one gun involved. And the person speaking so cockily had to be the one wielding it.

God fucking damn it. They all sounded like punks. Bakugou was even more disappointed in himself thinking about how easy it probably was for them to get a weapon and carry it around in the neighborhood. But he had to put his feelings aside for a moment since they were young brats with a bit of nerve there was no telling what they were going to do. It didn't sound like they burst in with a plan, so they were bound to act recklessly.

Bakugou thought about the best course of action and he saw Imada's hand move upwards in the corner of his eye. The man took the plastic of the finished bouquet he and took it between two fingers. In an instant, the hero held on to his arm tried to hiss at him that it was the least of their concerns but he got shut up immediately by another bullet. It scathed one of the flowers and the petals fell among the glass.

Fuck.

"Oi, I see you there old man! Why don't you make it easy on yourself and come out?"

The delinquents gave them some sort of window. Perfect. Imada wanted to rise but Bakugou continued to hold on to him. Instead, he rose up his hands in the air. When they stuck out from behind the counter he heard the boys fall silent.

"T-those gloves…I recognize them from anywhere…" one of the delinquents said.

The gun cocked again. "Shut up! D-don't play with us old man. Come out!" The leader yelled. He stomped closer to the counter and came close to hanging over them.

Bakugou ignited his palms and sparked a few small explosions. The gun hit the floor and the leader scurried away from the counter.

"Fuck, it really is Ground Zero!"

"Forget this, we're out of here!"

Bakugou stood up from behind the counter, intending on not letting them go that easily but when he did he saw them standing, frozen, in front of the broken glass door.

"Uh, boss…We might have a bit of a problem." One guy pointed out.

The lane was slowly filling itself with cops running through and cop cars flying down the street.

"Did that old fucker really have to call the police too? And that many? Man!"

Bakugou walked over to the guys and kicked over the gun to the side when it met his boot. The delinquents instantly cowered as he came near, folding their arms over their head and squeezing their eyes shut. Only opened their eyes when they felt the hero push right past them. Bakugou stood in front of the broken door and squinted at the sudden commotion that arose in what seemed to be in a matter of seconds.

He stepped through the frame and halted one of the cops hurrying down the street. He turned the cop to face him, grabbing him by the shoulders, eyes growing wide as he realized who stopped him. Bakugou not having time for yet another freak out quickly forced his words out.

"What's happening? What's all the fuss about?!" Bakugou barked.

"A villain! Pro Hero Deku is already on the scene but he's having trouble with defeating the villain and preventing casualties, so we-"

Bakugou looked back at the bunch of delinquents that were gawking at him. He checked his watch, rolled his eyes and dragged the cop to them.

"Listen here. You bring these punks to the station, they tried to rob this shop and are carrying an illegal firearm, write that down somewhere. I'm going to go assist that dweeb."

"Erm. Y-Yes sir, Ground Zero, s-sir!" The cop saluted him.

The hero stretched his hand out. "Imada!"

The flower shop owner stood up from behind the counter and took the bouquet. He rushed over to Bakugou and put the set large set of roses in his hand. Quickly the hero promised to pay him as soon as he had the chance and left to go to the source of action.

Couldn't criminals and villains pick a better time to fuck things up?

Bakugou ran towards the screaming and the sound of collapsing buildings and sighed at the state of the area. Deku must have been fighting with last resort because the whole main street had been left in ruins. The guy was really pushing his luck with him. He couldn't tell him that he didn't know damn well that his agency would have to clean this mess all up, could he?

Before jumping right into the action he assessed the situation. There were indeed a lot of civilians that needed help. The villain looked like a bit of a challenge so Deku didn't have a choice than to focus purely on the battle since it would be the best course of action. The police were at a loss. It was obvious that they had been sitting on their asses for too long. They definitely needed his help.

Bakugou looked at the roses, then at the giant twenty feet tall bear-like mutant, and then back again at the roses.

He took off his coat. "For fuck sakes!" the hero yelled before blasting himself in the air with his free hand.

He landed on a piece of debris next to a roughened up Deku.

"Kacchan! Where did you come from?" The hero winced as he smiled and looked up at his childhood friend.

He got silenced by a bouquet of roses slapped against his face. "Doesn't matter. Came to clean up your damn mess," He threw the roses back over his shoulder. "Tch. This better not take longer than fifteen minutes."

Deku chuckled. "Ah yes, Uraraka is coming back today. So we're you two to join me and Todoroki for dinner on Sunday? We ta-"

"Now is not the time for small talk, idiot!" Bakugou avoided the hairy fist that came crashing into the debris he stood on. He held onto the ledge of a balcony and swung himself on the steady platform. Deku then nodded at him and jumped back into battle.

Without having to communicate with words the two went to work. Over the years they had fought many battles together and it did take them some very close encounters before they reached the stage of perfectly aligning their minds. They were one of the few heroes that were able to cooperate as they did and it was often fawned about by veteran heroes and hero fanatics online. Heavily speculated how it was possible for them to only have to share looks with each other to know what the other was planning to do.

Bakugou knew from the instant he met Deku's eyes that he had been getting frustrated, though trying to keep his smile it was obvious he was annoyed by the circumstances. From that moment on Bakugou had decided to take care of the civilians first, giving Deku the room to finish what he started. Though he really felt like beating a villain considering how terrible things had been going, he had no information on the beast. Deku was already more than aware of what he was fighting. Knew about the quirk and the weak spots. It would've been extremely stupid for Bakugou to get involved.

The Pro Hero Ground Zero blasted himself past the beast, as steady as he could with one hand and went to help every civilian that was stuck underneath rubble or trapped in buildings. The violent blasts caused a few petals to fall from the roses and scatter on the floor like a romantic trail. It showered over rescues as he tried to tug them from underneath half a wall and pathed the way for rescues as he aggressively pointed to an exit with his bouquet.

After scolding the police for their incompetence he gave them further demands to search for more people that needed help and then attended his attention back to the villain.

Deku was still holding back his attacks, still trying to mind the civilians in the area. Now those were out of the way it was time for some good old-fashioned brute force.

"Gah!"

And it looked like he had to deliver that. Bakugou winced at a Deku that got thrown into a building. The guy had been on defense and taking hits and got flung around for the longest of time.

Bakugou looked at the roses that were starting to become thinner and thinner. He ticked on his watch and the analog stick fell off.

He turned to of the officers.

"Hey you, what's the time?"

"17:12?"

The grip around the bouquet tightened and he blasted his way through the concrete wasteland to Deku. The hero coughed out dust and could barely keep his eyes open. Bakugou carried the almost lifeless body on his back and blasted them out of the building that was ready to collapse, landing meters in front of the villain. There he laid Deku who had slowly been coming to on the ground. Ground Zero shoved the roses against his chest and pointed at him sternly.

"If you ruin them, I will piss against your mailbox!" He yelled.

Deku clutched the bouquet and threw his head back. "That's a bit over dramatic don't you think?" He huffed.

The explosion hero rubbed his now to free hands together and sparked his palms. "You don't think I will do it?"

"Oh, I know you would one hundred percent do that, I'm just saying it's overdramatic."

Bakugou scoffed before blasting off. He maneuvered himself around the air now stable as can be and confused the bear-mutant by appearing from all sides. All that attacking had seemed to wore the villain out because the reaction time of them was considerably slower than when he first showed up.

It was going to hurt like a bitch, but he had to finish the guy off with a big move. He flew himself past a half-destroyed building and found a steady platform. There he only had a couple of seconds before the monster knew where he was and he took the time take a deep breath. After he emptied his lungs, he steadied his stance and shot a huge blast from his palms, which destroyed the rest of the building and crashed right onto the mutant. The heavy rubble only left them twitching and as the pressure got heavier the mutant stopped moving.

People started coming back out on the street, waving and cheering the names of the two victorious heroes. Bakugou tried to ignore the pulsing of his veins and hasted to Deku who had now stood back up and was waving at his fans. He grabbed the roses from him and inspected every flower.

Bakugou lifted the petals. "You know you owe me big time for cleaning your mess on my free afternoon right?" He murmured.

Deku nodded as he continued waving at the gathering crowd.

"I know."

Bakugou began walking away from the scene only to get stopped by another crowd that had been gathering behind him. However, this crowd seemed to consist entirely of journalists and cameramen. Microphones, recorders, and cameras went right into Bakugou's personal space as soon as he approached them. Flashing lights and rapid-fire questions all came his way. A dozen pictures per second and questions ranging from his unexpected appearance to what was on his mind during the battle.

He only cared to answer one question and it was to the latter.

"I only had one damn thing on my mind and it was to get these roses to my fucking wife. Now let me through, jackasses!"

The crowd in response fired more questions at him, but the hero bulldozed through them, glaring at every single journalist to make it known that was his first and final statement about today's battle.

Whilst wading through Bakugou had heard a journalist mention the time and he had exactly ten minutes to get his ass and the sad looking bunch of flowers to the other side of town. Which seemed impossible at this point since the whole road was blocked by the mess they created during the battle. He had no choice but to run to the nearest halt for public transportation and go on from there.

And Bakugou thought the nearest halt was a station, where he planned to jump in one of the taxi's and pay the driver extra to floor it. But he actually first came across a bus halt instead. He saw the bus approaching and decided last second to take it. Extremely out of place he sat in a very small bus seat, with his gift on his lap whilst everyone on the bus stared at the dirt-covered hero, including the bus driver in his rearview mirror.

Ignoring the stares and whispers, Bakugou panted, recovering from the sprint and tried to make the petals stand up firm again. Cursing under his breath as he realized that the sad bouquet was too far from saving, he gave up when getting close to the halt closest to his house. He put the roses to the side and went to press the stop button. Right before he went to smash it a little girl came up to his seat.

With a trembling hand, she clutched to a chair and tried to look him in the eye. Bakugou heard the whole bus hold their breath as the little girl lifted her other hand and showed him a notebook and a pen.

"Mister Ground Zero…" She began, her voice wavering heavily, tone unsure and full of nerves.

Bakugou had to choose between signing this girl's fairy princess diary or pressing the stop button in time.

It wasn't that tough of a choice.

"Sorry…" He began.

"…I spaced out for a second. What's your name kid?"

He couldn't say no after all.

Bakugou ended up reaching his front door a whole hour and twenty minutes later than he intended to be. If he was lucky Uraraka's taxi would have been delayed since they had to pass through the roughed up area as well. If he continued to hurry like he had been doing all day he could still put the roses in a nice vase and start dinner.

He raised his arm and smelled underneath his arm.

Maybe he should shower before starting dinner.

He fished the keys from out under his doormat since he had left in the pocket of his trench coat and opened the door. The sound of voices meeting him as he stepped into the hallway.

He didn't remember leaving the tv on this morning?

Bakugou walked into the living room and to his surprise saw his wife, sitting in her suit watching on the couch and watching the news. They were reporting the battle that happened moments ago. They had blown up his mean scowl all over the screen when they did.

"Ground Zero threatens to pee on Deku's mailbox during a heated battle in the city? More at seven!"

Uraraka turned around and saw a defeated Bakugou standing in the doorway. She burst out laughing, stood up and walked over to him with her arms wide open. She wrapped her arms around him loosely and kept giggling as she planted little kisses on his face. Bakugou let her affection wash over him, still confused as to why his wife was home already in the first place. He was so sure he had at least a little bit of time before she came home.

The woman rubbed the dirt off Bakugou's face with her ring fingers and dusted off his shoulders.

"Ah, it's so good to be back!" she sighed.

Bakugou looked at the clock hanging above the television.

"I thought you were supposed to be home at…Never mind. Welcome home Angel Face, I got you-"

"-Roses? I saw, sweetheart."

She took the flowers from his hand and looked at the butchered state of them. Bakugou averted his gaze from them, not able to stand to look at them anymore. He could barely look Uraraka in the eye. Not only had he mistaken the time she was coming home at but he also came back with a shitty welcome gift and no food on the table.

However, Uraraka didn't seem to care one bit. She laid a hand on his dirty cheek and placed a kiss on his lips.

"Thank you so much." She said softly.

Bakugou groaned and hung his head. He couldn't even be bothered to argue that this was the worst welcome home he could've given her. There was no way he had enough energy to go into discussion with Uraraka, a discussion he knew he was bound to forfeit anyways. He simply wrapped his arms around her too, closed his eyes and rested his chin on her head.

"Today fucking sucked. No, the whole fucking week sucked. I'm proud of you but never leave home ever again."

Uraraka took her head out from under Bakugou's chin and looked up at him.

"I've missed you too."

Bakugou opened an eye. "Really? You seemed to had the best fucking time there."

Her hand slid off his shoulder and traveled down his chest. Hand becoming a single finger which traced the outlines of his abs. She slid the finger into the waistband of his pants and pressed her chest closer against his.

"Want me to show you how much I missed you?" She whispered deviously next to his ear.

Uraraka pulled his lower half in closer by the waistband and pressed her thigh against his groin. Bakugou could feel her smile next to his ear and it sent shivers right down his spine.

"Or are you too tired after today?" Uraraka breathed next to his ear.

Bakugou gave her words a solid second of thought before picking her up by the hips, slinging her over his shoulder and walking to the bedroom.

"Tired? Me? No way. Why would I be?"

Writers note: beta reader: @kyuubaee

[wanderbia]

Oh gosh, it’s been so long I’m afraid I don’t know how to put words together.

I was checking some old stuff lately and then I was thinking about this blog and then I read my last post and… I knew I had to write something here. To give an update – even if just to myself.

Things changed, scrambled apart and together again, and I ended up going on crazy adventures.

So here’s the story (prepare yourselves because it is a bit long):

It begins after that course/experience I was going to participate in, which was awesome and I met incredible people, but that despite the positive feedback, still left me stranded in the middle of nowhere. I knew it wasn’t really what I wanted to be doing, not quite where I wanted to spend my energy.

So back to usual life I went: freelancing through Christmas and New Year and feeling like shit, month after month, and realizing that the plans I had  at the beginning of that year were far and formless. And I couldn’t understand what I could DO to change things. I was HOPELESS, good lord. STILL hopeless.

And then I wanted to go away – FAST. It was just what I knew. I had nothing to lose, I was not earning enough money to be happy with the work I was doing, my anxiety was increasing and increasing and increasing and I was turning into a strange monster I suspect was eating humans at the dead of the night.

So without thinking too much into it I jumped into a plan that had stayed on the sidelines of my life for some time: I bought a plane ticket to Portugal to spend some months with my aunt(who lives there).

And really, if I had this option, why wouldn’t I take it?

My only plan was to get there, find some job at a coffee shop or restaurant and work for 3 months and see where it would lead me. I would probably meet new people, have new experiences and I would be able to BREATHE. And if nothing went well, I could at least earn some money and travel a bit. Good, right?

So in last April there I went, not really knowing what to expect.

I had never stayed so long far from home and people told me I would miss everything a lot. But for some reason I was not scared and was really calm about it all. I REALLY missed home only once, during my second week there – and I believe it was more because I was having one of those days than anything else. I mean, I talked to my mom everyday through video call and messaged my friends all the time so? 

But still of course things never go as swiftly as expected.

First I tried finding different and cool courses to take so I could have different experiences. But I found only a few that sounded interesting and that weren’t too expensive.

Then I started looking for work (part-time) – at the beginning at specific places and then afterwards everywhere. (THROW YOUR RESUMES EVERYWHERE)

No success for the first 2 months.

And then I got an opportunity to work at a restaurant – full time, night shift. It was far from what I wanted but I took it. It was hella fun and interesting. It gave me good money, I meet fun people! Gained crazy experience! Served a lot of crazy people!

But it was also extremely tiring. I would get home 1h30 AM, drained. So after a month and a half I knew I couldn’t do it anymore – and one of the courses I was interested in would be during work time, and I really wanted to do it. So I decided to try and change my shift, but not being able to do it I ended up quitting.

I took the course. It was meh. Not what I expected, and shorter than what I wanted. By then it was already August. I felt stupid for leaving the job for something that really didn’t help me much.

I felt again stuck and lost.

And then my aunt started to say how I should try and find a work in my area – which is Design, which made me feel sick just to think about, which I was trying to get away from by going there. And bless her, my aunt is a very nice person who gave me a place to stay and cared for me a lot – but she started to make me go crazy a bit. Because she started to push at all my anxiety buttons and “what I was going to do now” and “what were my plans” and “how I should do this and do that”.

One day I had a fight with her because of it, and called my mom crying, eager to get out of there. I had already bought the ticket back when I went – for September –  and I just had to wait one month and I would go home and everything would be alright.

But it still felt like a waste, going away. I was there, in a place full of possibilities, and going back home where I had nothing to expect? It sounded bad.

So I remembered this little seed of an idea that I had come upon on my first month there: WWOOFing. An idea that I was a bit afraid to try, to be honest.

It sounded too crazy, too far from who I was. Probably not what others were expecting I would do. But at that time I was a bit desperate and just willing to go anywhere. So I sent a message to a farm, then to another, and then decided I would delay my flight to the end of the year and use all my time to go to those farms. I was excited, truly excited, for the first time in months.

I mean, how I didn’t do this before? I love nature. I’m always aching to be near it. I feel it deep in my bones all the time and just seeing a beautiful place full of nature makes my heart beat fast. I could even fucking become a tree. So it looked like the perfect option.

And let me tell you: I had A BLAST. The best 3 months in my life. I loved being in the middle of nowhere. I loved working with my body, planting. I loved getting dirty and putting my hands in the soil. I loved going on walks on my free time. I also loved meeting new people – people like minded. WONDERFUL people, from all around the world. I did crazy things that I wouldn’t ever think of doing before: including a trail in the middle of nowhere to try and find an abandoned convent (that me and a friend actually discovered it was out of bonds for the public lol).

It was fun. It was a marvelous experience. And it put me right where I felt I should be. I never felt so fearless as I did during those months.

And despite being introverted and very concerned about personal space, I discovered that I can live with lots of people, sleep in a room with strangers, be ok in ANY place. And actually befriend everyone.

I don’t know, I felt so empowered, so good about myself. So confident.

And then I learned more about Permaculture and Organic Farming and all things related to nature and sustainability. And really, I just want to work with it. I knew I wanted to work near nature and I was thinking of ways of doing it, and this experience showed me different possibilities. Amazing paths.

So now I’m going back to Portugal next month, and I will be staying in an ecovillage where I hope I will learn lots of things and see even more possibilities. I’m planning for the future and am extremely excited in trying to construct my own path. To dance along it.

And that’s it. This is what I wanted to share. I think it is a wonderful follow up to the last post I left here. Passion and Purpose. Because at that time I was feeling lost and anxious, just trying to find things that I liked doing. I wished and wished I could do the right kind of wandering, the one that would give me new perspectives. And then I went out there and DID tried things and it worked (it fucking worked, can you believe it?).

I also  realized it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe your passion and purpose is something as simple as being close to nature, like me.

Don’t let that critic inner voice say ‘You should, you should, you should’.

Hear the wants, the needs. Find what makes your heart ache.

Think about something that if someone told you ‘You know, we are deleting this from life’, you would get out of your way and fight for it, tooth and nail.

And well, yeah I am still concerned about earning money and in finding jobs in this area (maybe even going back to college?). It will be hard. But I’m willing to try it all – and I’m so so full of energy.

And most important: I’m happy.

So yeah. If anyone reads it, feel free to share your recent journeys and adventures. And if you just need to talk, mumbling session is free here.

I hope everyone is doing good! Chasing what makes you happy.

Love Bea

Land in Sight Oh gosh, it's been so long I'm afraid I don't know how to put words together.

[lobsters-on-their-heads]

Continuing Travels of Cophine, Ch. 8

Hey, look, I finally posted something. Entire work still lives here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13525500?view_full_work=true

And of course, I always love good feedback.

*1 week before Clone Fest*

Frigid wind blew trash against the window of Fung's Diner while Sarah and Art met for their weekly lunch. Art had started giving her little mental challenges, based on past cases of his, and sometimes she enjoyed it, but today she just shook her head.

“Okay,” he said, “you gotta tell me what's on your mind, then.”

She pushed her eyebrows up with her fingers and tried to avoid the quasi-command for a minute or so before giving in. “Mostly just the usual bullshit. And Alison wants me to help plan this Clone Fest thing she's got coming up.”

“Clone Fest?!”

“Yeah. It's like, to celebrate all of our birthdays, or whatever, sort of between all the actual birthdays. It's next week.”

“Oh, that'll be nice. Yeah, Beth's birthday is... was right around this time, now that I think about it.” He chuckled, but shook his head. “April Fools Day. We used to laugh about that.”

She put her hand on his forearm. “Hey. It's still her birthday, right? And we're gonna try to do something to celebrate her, something special just for her, plus the party for all the rest of us weirdos. The party's the bitch, though. It's just...” She put the heels of both hands to her forehead, a gesture she'd picked up from Cosima some time ago, and shook her head. “It's just I have no idea what do.”

“What do you mean?”

“For, like, activities and shit. Alison wants to me to come up with 'fun activities' for everyone, and all I can think of doing is going to a club and getting drunk and high and shitfaced in every possible way until you can't remember who you even are any more. That's been just about every birthday party I've ever been to. Well, birthday party for adults, that is. Been going to more kids' parties these days, haven't I?”

Art smiled. “I dunno, Gemma's indoor pool party a couple months ago sounded like a blast. Maybe that's just more my speed these days.”

She took a bite of her BLT and considered that. “Okay, so we can get shitfaced at an indoor pool instead.”

He got that serious look on his face again. “No. Please don't. Sarah...”

“Hey, glow sticks look pretty cool underwater, you gotta admit.”

“Who else is gonna be there, other than the sisters?”

“Fucking, like, everybody, I guess? Cos and Delphine are flying in from wherever the fuck they are, and Scott's taking time off work to be there. Alison and Donnie and Helena, of course. Fe, naturally. You, hopefully. Not the kids, though. Alison's found a sitter to watch them for the evening.”

“What about Colin?”

She rolled her eyes and ate more of her sandwich.

“Uh oh.”

“If you really wanna know, ask Fe. There's some drama, but he's not telling me about it.”

“Well, even if he does come, I don't think he's got a lot of lifeguarding experience, so it answers my real question either way – who's gonna save your ass when one of you falls into the deep end tripping balls so hard you think that you actually fell up?”

“Cosima said she was a lifeguard in college.”

“In college.” When Sarah gave him a So What look, he clarified, “That means more than 10 years ago, and I'm guessing she hasn't been keeping her license up-to-date.”

When she didn't respond right away, he ate quietly and watched people ducking their heads against the wind outside. She knew what he was thinking, and she wanted to slap him for it.

“Look, we can enjoy ourselves for one bloody night, okay?”

“I'm not saying you can't.”

“You're doing everything but.” She stole one of the olives from his salad and mentally dared his forehead furrows to deepen. “Cosima and Delphine have been off saving our sisters' lives in, like, the shittiest places on the planet, so the least we can do is have a decent party for them. And for me and Alison and Helena, too, of course, 'cause our lives haven't been total picnics, but mostly for them.”

“That's funny,” he said, “I got a postcard from them with a picture of a real fancy resort on it. Said they were having a blast.”

“Yeah, I got that one, too, about a week after one that showed the earth splitting open and spewing fire. They move around a lot, yeah? Point is, it's everyone's birthday celebration, including Cosima's, and hell, including mine! You're not supposed to be responsible at a birthday party, Art!”

He made his “okey-dokey-then” face and cleaned the salad dressing from his chin. “Just don't count on me being there if there's anything other than alcohol involved. And I mean anything.”

** The morning of Clone Fest **

Cosima and Delphine both woke early, their bodies still wired to Middle East time. The weather report showed unseasonably warm temperatures, with highs around 18C and clear skies. After checking the weather report, Cosima dropped the phone next to her pillow and contemplated the day ahead. They were having lunch at Sarah's, followed by relaxed family time and then “something super fun” that evening.

“We should go to the market,” Delphine said, rolling over so that her nose almost touched Cosima's cheek. “The one in the park, you know? With all the sellers with vegetables and fruits. I know they might not have much this time of year, but someone will have eggs, I think.”

The mental image of Delphine casually perusing market stalls, in, like, a straw hat and a peasant skirt and carrying a straw basket made Cosima grin. “You wanna go to the farmer's market to get eggs?”

“Yes.” She kissed Cosima's chin and angled her torso above hers. “And anything else that looks good.”

She played with Delphine's fingers, splayed out next to her face, and smiled. “Can I get you, then?”

“Mmmm.... maybe.” There was another kiss, and Delphine threw back the covers, making Cosima yelp. “We'll see.” And with a smile, she sauntered off to the bathroom while Cosima scrambled to cover herself back up.

It was still chilly when they left at 7:30 in hats and scarves, but the sunlight kissing the buildings and the edges of the still-bare branches hinted at the warmer temperatures ahead. Cosima would have sucked up the chill and walked, but a city bus lumbered up as they neared a stop, so they got on and rode the mile or so to the park, where the market atmosphere was in full swing. At the entrance, they got coffee and home-baked muffins from a stall supporting the local children's orchestra, while a bluegrass duo played guitar and fiddle.

“Hang on,” Cosima said as they passed. “Are they playing Wagon Wheel?”

“What?”

She listened more closely, picking through years of memories for the tune. Then the fiddle picked up again, sawing at the chords, and she nodded. “Yup. It's definitely Wagon Wheel. Haven't heard this song since... well, let's just say it's been a while. Only words I remember is where they sing about having a nice long toke.”

“Ah. That's why you remember it. Maybe you can play it for me sometime.”

“Maybe.” She rubbed her shoulder against Delphine's as they made their way through the already crowded pathways between stalls. The muffin was good, if a little light on the blueberries, and the coffee warmed her hands and insides. “If you come out to California with me, I'm sure one of my uncles or cousins will play it on the guitar and we'll all sing along while we're drunk or high. Or both.”

They ducked into a stall selling leafy greens and inspected the wares, and Delphine asked, “If? Is it in question whether I'll go to California with you some day?”

Cosima balanced her half-eaten muffin on her coffee lid and set them on the counter. “No. I hope not.”

“Then why if?”

“I dunno...” She bagged a few handfuls of mesclun greens, tied the bags, and did the same with some kale. “It just doesn't seem that, like, certain, I guess.” Way to be articulate, Niehaus, she thought. The funk she'd been in a few days prior had dissipated with the family meals and the vigorous fuckings, but now it lurked at the edge of her mind again.

“No?”

And then Delphine was rubbing her back, and it was almost okay, but a young woman nearby scolded her child in Arabic, and Cosima remembered they were going to Baghdad in three days.

“It's fine.” She tilted her head to kiss Delphine, and turned back to the counter to pay for the greens.

They took their time exploring the market, sampling mushrooms and honey and pickled everything, and also buying three dozen eggs, a log of goat cheese, a pack of crème fraiche, fresh dill from the same greenhouse the leafy greens came from, carrots, chopped walnuts, and various snacks to take along. By the time they reached the end of the line of stalls and sat down to snack, the sun had risen and they needed to remove their hats and scarves.

Looking out at the park stretched out in front of them, distant high-rises visible over the treetops, Cosima rested her head on Delphine's shoulder. “It's a nice place.”

“Mhm,” Delphine agreed around a mouthful of apricot.

“D'you remember that day we were gonna have a picnic out here...”

“The day it rained?”

“No, the other time.”

“The day you were pissed at me?”

“Was it... wait. Which day that I was pissed at you?” Cosima paused and thought back. She'd been thinking of the plans they'd made, to bring blankets and some hot spiced wine out here, to listen to the drummers and snuggle up together in public. And then they hadn't done that, because...

“You don't remember? The day you learned that that dental pulp came from Kira's tooth.”

“Was that the same day? Maybe. I remember them as two completely separate events.”

“It was the same day. I'd already set my schedule to leave early, but then you overheard me talking to Scott, and...”

“And the rest is history.”

People with dogs and baby strollers passed, less densely here than at other parts. A distant off-key trumpet player honked out “When the Saints Come Marching In,” and the combined smells of grilled meat, popcorn, and weed made the park smell like a fairground.

“We could get married here.”

Delphine had her coffee cup halfway to her mouth, but she set it down again at that. “As a replacement picnic, perhaps?”

“If you wanna think of it that way. We did tell everyone we'd get married in Toronto, didn't we?”

“Yes, we did. I don't think either of us will want to jaunt off anywhere for a destination wedding.”

Cosima's laugh slid into a groan, and she covered her eyes. “I am trying so hard not to think about jaunting off anywhere right now. Today was supposed to be my day off from jaunting.”

“Ooh, pauvre petit chiot...” Delphine rubbed her shoulder and nuzzled her hair. “I'm sorry that I brought it up.”

“Eh, it's whatever. What do you think, though? Of getting married here? We don't need to decide right now, obviously.”

“Obviously. I think it's nice, as long as it doesn't rain.”

“We can have a backup for rain.”

Delphine giggled. “Like one of those giant circus tents?”

“Exactly like one of those. Oh, and there could be streamers that are, like, DNA-shaped coming down from the top.”

“Mmm, maybe. What else would there be?”

“DNA symbols on the cake, obviously.”

“A DNA cake, maybe?”

“Oooh, that's a good idea.”

They finished off their snacks, and just as they were about to rise, a loud boBOOP emanated from Delphine's purse, making them both pause. While Delphine fished around for the clone business phone, it gave off two more boBOOPs in rapid succession, and Cosima's heart picked up its pace. Maybe it was Özlem, and Cosima's suspicions about the coughing were correct. Or maybe it was someone with some information about Malika, finally. Or maybe it was just some doctor, confirming an appointment in Baghdad or Tehran or wherever.

Delphine unlocked the screen and frowned, then smiled. “Look.”

Leaning over, Cosima saw a picture, likely taken by a webcam, of three children – Fatima, Nabil, and Mohammed Al Numery, the oldest of the Yemeni orphans they'd met in Djibouti. In the picture, only Fatima looked directly at the camera, large dark eyes serious under her headscarf while the boys poked each other from each side of her. With a swipe, Delphine revealed the second photo. The boys smiled here, but Fatima did not.

“They are such good kids,” Cosima said.

“They sent a message, too.”

hello dr delphine cormier it began. we are nabl Fatima and Mhmmd in DJIBOUTI CITY DJIBOUTI please you help aunt nooran sister we say hello ehllo

“Oh my god that is so cute.” Cosima wondered if they'd sent it from one of the internet cafés in the city, or if they'd made a friend with a laptop. She wondered if Nooran had told them how much she wanted Cosima and Delphine to take the children away with them.

“We should write back,” Delphine said. “But with what?”

Cosima took the phone from her and turned it to landscape position. “Easy. Smile.”

*

They strolled down a residential street on their way back from the market, Cosima's arm around Delphine's waist and Delphine's arm around Cosima's shoulders, each of them with bags of goodies slung over their shoulders.

Several blocks away from the park, in an upscale but cozy neighborhood, they saw a house with at least ten balloons dancing in the wind around a multicolored OPEN HOUSE sign. A woman in a burgundy pant suit waved as they approached. “Open house today, ladies! Wanna come take a look around?”

“Eh...” said Delphine, but Cosima stopped and looked up at it. She was fuzzy on architectural terms, but she put the facade around early 1900s, with dark stately brick and those bump-out windows that give the inhabitants a nice cross breeze in the summer. It was three stories, including an English basement, and there was a tiny garden out front with some brave little daffodils poking up.

“We're not in the market, actually,” Delphine said.

“Oh, that's fine!” the agent assured them. “You can still come in and take a look around, get some ideas for when you are in the market one day. Are you two from around here?”

They exchanged a glance. “Not exactly,” Cosima said.

“Well, I see you've done some shopping! We do have a really nice kitchen inside, I have to say. Newly renovated! Come on in! There's free coffee!”

It was such a tacky sales pitch, but another couple walked out of the house and gave them a view of a spacious entry way past a practical mudroom with rain boots set up as props. She looked up at Delphine. “What d'you think, babe? Take a look around real quick, grab some free coffee? It'll give us a chance to put these bags down for a minute.”

Delphine arched her eyebrows and looked down at her with those caramel brown eyes, and Cosima knew it wasn't practical, and that Delphine thought she was being silly, but she didn't care.

“Please?”

“Alright. If you really want to.”

The inside of the house was furnished by the real estate agency in a way that blended Rachel Duncan and Alison Hendrix, but the agent had been right about the kitchen – it was fantastic, although Cosima had to admit that her standards for kitchens had always been pretty low. There was an island with a granite countertop, plenty of cabinet space, and a gas stove. It was easy to imagine having the nieces and nephews over for a weekend and making pancakes for them in this kitchen, or cooking up a romantic dinner with Delphine on a Friday night. A window over the sink and a half-glass door beside the cabinets looked out on a spacious fenced-in backyard where two black-haired little girls ran around with balloons. Cosima thought of the pictures they'd just seen, and imagined Fatima finally being able to relax and run around with her siblings in a yard like this.

“You guys been upstairs yet?”

Cosima turned to see a paunchy man in khakis addressing her and Delphine. “Uh, no,” she said.

“You should check out the balcony. That about sold this place for me, honestly.”

Cosima wasn't sure what to say to that, but Delphine suggested that he put an offer on the house if he liked it so much, and the woman he was with groaned. That set off an argument between the two of them, and Cosima and Delphine scooted away up the stairs.

Upstairs, Delphine wandered into the smaller hall bathroom while Cosima explored the master bedroom. She could see what the guy downstairs had meant. French doors opened onto a balcony large enough to comfortably host ten people. She walked out, ran her fingers over the stained wooden railing, and then rested her forearms on it to look out on the backyard.

The realtor wasn't lying when she said “great backyard,” either. If anything, it was an understatement; the yard was easily three or four times the size of the Hendrix's backyard. The realtor's voice drifted up from below. “Oh, there's definitely room for a swing set! Swing set, sandbox, fire pit, you name it!”

There were maple trees out there, too, with tiny buds giving them a fuzzy appearance. They were just about large enough to string a hammock up between them, but if that didn't work, they could always put a bench beneath them, and sit out in the shade on warm days. They could have cook-outs with the family, or just sit out there together with drinks, just the two of them. She could come home and find Delphine on that sofa downstairs, or in the kitchen making fancy cuisine look effortless. Sometimes she would get home first, and Delphine would come home from work to find Cosima making Kraft dinner or doing a smelly pet science project out on this balcony.

“Hey.” Delphine came up and rubbed her shoulders. “What are you thinking about?”

She smiled over at her, loving the sight of Delphine on this balcony, in her comfy sweater and multi-pocket pants. “Just stupid shit.”

“Ah.” Delphine watched her for a moment. “We can't buy it. You know that.”

Fucking hell... Cosima laughed. “I know that!”

“Okay, just checking. You have that far away look on your face, though.”

“I do not.”

“You most definitely do.” Delphine scooted over to tuck herself beside Cosima, and nuzzled the top of her head. “One more year, if that, chérie, and then we can stay. Not in this house, of course! But we can stay here. Or wherever you want. Back in Minnesota, or California, wherever.”

“I know.”

“We really should be going, though. People are waiting for us, and we have perishables.”

Cosima giggled. “Yeah. Maybe I just like hearing you say perishables.”

On the way to Sarah's house, they passed hundred-year-old maples and oak trees in yards and parks, brown front lawns that would turn verdant in a few months, and all manner of people getting an early start on their weekend. At one corner house, while Cosima and Delphine waited for the light to let them cross, a man and woman looked up at the roof of their house.

“Earliest the contractors can come out is next week,” the woman told the man.

They didn't stay at the corner long enough to find out what the contractors would be coming out for, but all Cosima could think of was We're not even going to be on this continent next week.

She didn't even want a house. They were too much work, with the lawn upkeep and the plumbing and the pest control and making sure the roof didn't cave in. Her parents always said their boat was easier to maintain than any of their houses had been. She didn't want a house.

Once Sarah's house was in view, Cosima's steps slowed. Her sisters were there, and her niece, and she felt as comfortable there as anywhere else, but it wasn't home.

“You okay?” Delphine asked.

And Delphine was several feet in front of her, checking on her, making sure she was okay, knowing her moods before Cosima herself knew them.

“Yeah,” she said, jaunting across the short distance to kiss her lips. “I'm okay.”

[honeybearloco]

“...A Bit Longer.”

Requested by an anon. PSA: I love Woo.

The fact he woke you up to do this, amazed you. He wasn’t the most affectionate person in the world, but you know he cared and loved you just as much as you loved him.

You met Woo a dance competition. You of course weren’t competing. You weren’t a dancer but you loved watch dancers. You love street dancing. All types of it. But your all time favorite was Krumping. There was just something that made you happy when you looked on.

You just loved to go to dance competitions. You only knew so little about dance. You felt as if looking on would help you understand a bit more.

This competition had been around for quite a long time. It was your first time seeing this one. The location seemed a bit sketchy, but it was a street dance competition. There was nothing else you could expect.

One crew stepped forward. They were wearing nothing but shades of red. They were competing for the second time in this competition. You watched them the first time, but they lost to the Woo Fam, which made you interested in them.

To your surprise, the Woo Fam was there competing to maintain their title. A very tall, muscular man in some black jeans and a black wife beater stepped up to the leader of the red dance group. Now he was in the streetlight. You could clearly see his arms. He was tatted up.

There was a significant height difference. Looking at him made your knees weak. He wasn’t cute. He wasn’t hot. He was sexy. Probably one of the sexiest men you had ever seen around these parts. He looked older, mid thirties maybe.

“You sure you want a repeat of last year, junior?” The man asked.

His voice was deep. It sent chills down your spine.

“That’s not gonna happen this year. We’re gonna win.”

“I feel the fear in your voice. Good luck, junior.”

He ruffled the smaller boy’s head.

“Stop calling me junior, Woo!”

You didn’t notice that you were staring at him. The man looked over to see you. The two of you made eye contact for a couple of seconds. He winked at you. Your heart fluttered.

The competition went on. After the competition everyone predicted the ending. The Woo Fam won of course. You felt a little bad for the other crew. You got your things together. You were about to leave. You were a bit upset because Woo didn’t dance. You were expecting to see him hit a little move but he didn’t do anything.

You began to head out, but a hand grabbed yours. You turned around to see him.

“Were you really about to leave?” He asked.

You were at a lost for words.

He chuckled at your face.

“You’re cute when you’re at a lost for words.”

“I’m not cute!” You spoke up.

“Feisty. You look a bit upset. You okay?”

“Well, I am a bit upset. I wanted to see you dance but you were in the background.” You answered.

He smirked at you. He pulled you closer to him.

“How about I take you somewhere you can watch me dance in private? And maybe I could dance for you, or maybe on you.” He flirted, his voice deepening. You blushed a bit.

“Because I would go somewhere with a complete stranger because he’s sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?”

“I’ll answer that once you tell me your name.” You replied.

“Woo. Kim Young Woo.” He put his hand out for you to shake.

“Y/N L/N.” You shook his hand.

The two of you got closer since that night. He found himself slowly falling for you. He couldn’t leave you with any of the male members of Woo Fam. He didn’t trust them. He admitted his feelings on accident. You went clubbing with them. You drank a lot that night.

He drove you home. And when he thought you were knocked out, he admitted his feelings. You heard every word. At first you thought he was kidding but you soon learned his feelings were true. You returned his feelings and he asked you out on a date.  

The two of you have been together for eight months. It had been a while since the two of you have been on a date. You were busier than ever with your job. You were a photographer. Everyday you were working. Even on the weekends. It got stressful but it didn’t take away your love for photographer.

Tonight was a night you were going to be able to sleep well. You got all your work done so you could sleep a bit easier. You got ready for bed which didn’t take long. You finally turned off all the lights and jumped in bed. You cuddled with your pillow and fell into a deep sleep.

As you were sleeping peacefully, there was a knock at the door. Young Woo was at your doorstep. After a while, you didn’t answer. He knocked again. Once again, no answer. He sighed before pulling out his phone and dialing your number.

You didn’t even answer your phone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to your apartment that you gave him a while ago.

He unlocked the front door and walked in. He closed the door behind him quietly. He quickly walked to your bedroom. He looked in your bed to see you sound asleep. In his eyes you were as beautiful as ever. He made his way over and shook you lightly.

“Jagi. Wake up.”

You groaned and shifted. He shook you again. This time you opened your eyes. You were met by a figure in the dark. You screamed and quickly punched the figure.

“JAGI!”

“Woo?” You turned on the lamp and saw Young Woo holding the left side of his jaw. You gasped.

“Woo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you. I thought it was a robber. Are you okay?”

“I think I lost a tooth. Damn, where did you learn to punch so fucking hard?!” He hissed.

“I don’t know. Come here, let me see.”

He sat next to you and you looked at his jaw. You softly touched it and he winced. You put a soft kiss upon his jaw.

“I deserve more than that one kiss on my jaw.”

“It’s not my fault. You should have turned on the lamp before waking me up. Maybe that would have stopped me from punching you in the face. I said I was sorry.”

“I had the perfect little date planned out for us.”

“Date?” You tilted your head to side.

“Yeah date. I know you miss our dates. I miss them too. I thought maybe we could go on a little date right now.”

“What is this? A love story?”

“Can’t I treasure my queen?” He asked before planting a soft kiss on your lips. His lips slowly made their way down to your neck. You knew what he was trying to do, but you were always a sucker for it.

“Fine! Okay! Okay! Just let me get change into something.”

“Dress casual.” He added.

In about an hour or so, you were done. You dressed in ripped blue jeans, a plain white t shirt, and black tennis shoes. You two of you were off.

You hopped into his car and buckled your seatbelt.

“Where to at 1 in the morning?”

“Nowhere. We’re just cruisin’ for a-”

“Woo, on my life if you say for a bruisin’, I will hurt you!”

He only smiled and pulled out of your driveway. The two of you went on a night drive in town. You passed by both places you knew and didn’t know. It was fascinating to see Seoul like this. It was as if you had never seen it before.

There were little children and adults alike performing on the streets. You wondered why the children were still awake at this time of night. There were happy couples holding hands and walking. There were even some couples arguing aloud.

Overall it was a good night to be out. You usually would be asleep. This is what you were missing.

Young Woo looked over to see your face, gazing in awe. He thought you were adorable.

“See what you’re missing, love?” He questioned.

“Yes. And I wish I didn’t have to miss it. It’s really beautiful. The lights, the fun, the performers, hell even the music that I hear blasting through the windows. But I’m always working. Thank you for taking me out.”

“No problem. But there is one place I wanna show you before I take you back home.”

He drove to a little fast food restaurant.

“This is where you wanted to take me?”

“No. I’m just really hungry. Stay in here. I’ll be right back.”

He got out of the car and made his way inside. You waited for about ten minutes. He walked back outside and got into the car.

“Got us some burgers. You hungry, love?”

“A little bit. Can we just go to that place you were talking about earlier?”

“Patience, love. We are heading there now.”

After a twenty minute ride, you looked up from your phone and looked out the window. There were no bright lights, there were only two to three lampposts spreader out. There was no pavement in sight. The road was all dirty.

“Where are we?” You asked.

He didn’t answer, he continued to drive. Finally the car came to a stop and Woo turned off the car. He got out of the car, as did you. He sat on the hood of the car.

“You are too damn big to be sitting on the hood like that.” You said jokingly.

“Whatever. Grab the food.”

You opened the door and grabbed the paper bag and handed it to Woo before closing the door again. You sat next to him.

He grabbed his burger first. He took a bite.

“So we came all the damn well to eat?”

He swallowed before answering you.

“No, just grab your burger and look out there.” He said pointing in front of the two of you.

You did as he said. You grabbed a burger and took a bite. As you took a bite you looked out at the way he pointed.

You were amazed not only by the many stars in the sky, but also the way Seoul looked from the outside. It was as if you could see the whole city, shining bright. The nightlife wasn’t so bad. Matter of fact it was more beautiful at night due to the lights. You gasped at the sight.

“You knew you’d do that? Now you see why I brought you out here?” He asked.

“It’s beautiful but I still don’t know why you brung me here.”

“I brought you here because the last couple of weeks or even months, you’ve been stressed out of your mind with everything. You have no time for yourself. Think about the last time you had thirty minutes to yourself and you weren’t worrying or stressing about some client. You even take that stress out on me and yell at me, but I let you because I know you still love me no matter what.”

You were tearing up hearing him say that. He continued.

“I know how you are with work. And I know you’ll always want to work to make a living. But slow down a bit. I’m here to support you. You don’t have to work to make all that money. Baby I’m right here.”

You pulled him in for a passionate kiss. He pulled away. You put your head on his shoulder and looked out into the night sky.

“Wanna go home?”

“Let’s just stay here a bit longer.”

“You barely took a bite for your burger. Eat!”

You smiled at him. You took another bite of your burger as did he.

[rboooks]

Happy Birthday @fire-lark ! I worte you a little something-something hope you lke it and have a great day!

There were a lot of things that Marco was expecting when Pops hired three young men for the summer to help out around the ranch. They were Graps’  grandkids, so even though he’s never met them in person,  he was sure they were just as crazy as the old man was. 

He’s never even seen a picture of them. Garp wasn’t the kind of man to carry them on his person and there was nothing in this world that would make Marco venture into his home. Who knows if he would ever make it out? 

That old man had more than a few loose screws. 

When the Whitebeard family learned of the three young helpers’ bloodline, they had groaned and whined about finding someone else, who wasn’t batshit insane,  but Pops had put his foot down. 

“You are all going treat these boys with respect. They will be staying with us for the summer as a favor for Garp and they will be working while here. ” His father had said leveling them all with a stare that stopped any more protests. “ Haurta, Luffy will be rooming with you since you’re so close in age. He’s the youngest of the three. ”

The youngest pulled a face but nodded at his father’s words. Pops turned to Thatch next “You’ll be sharing your room with Sabo. He’s the middle child though only by a few months.”

Thatch, the friendliest among his siblings, grinned excitedly. “No problem Pops!”

Edward gave him a brief please smile and then leveled the eldest with a hard, don’t you dare defy me, look. The blond stiffen instantly aware of what he wanted. “Marco, Ace will be bunking with you. And no. You can’t trade with anyone else. Also, you’ll be the one to pick them up from the bus station understand?”

Marco’s lips tighten but he nodded. He was clearly displeased with the arrangement but managed to push out the words. “Sure yoi.” 

With that, the family meeting ended and they went out for dinner. Three days later the brats showed up meaning Marco had to drive a good hour or so to pick them up. 

He had grumbly made his way to the bus stop driving his large black four-wheeler truck in the blazing heat and the air-conditioning at full blast.  He got stuck in traffic due to an accident but it only put about twenty minutes into his time frame. 

Since he didn’t have the three guys numbers he texted Izo to tell Pops for him, and let him know that Marco may be a little late. A few minutes later he got the response that the three new hires were fine with that. Apparently, it gave them time to go eat. 

He hoped they wouldn’t mind him picking up something to eat on the way back. He was pretty hungry.

When he arrived at the town that had the large bus stop he was momently distracted by a tourist. Marco was driving by Stalley’s Oven when a man eating some kind of pastry had a laugh staring at his phone with a wide grin.  

Since the light was red and the little outside tables Stalley’s were right next to the road the blond wasn’t too far away from him. He wore an open polo shirt and an orange cowboy hat. 

He was gorgeous.

If Marco needed any reminder that he was in fact very gay this guy would be it. But soon the light changed and he had to drive away from the good looking stranger, a little smirk on his face and maybe a little red too. 

He got to the stop ten minutes later he finally got to where he would collect the hires. Parking into the far corner of the lot, he grabbed the sign Pops insisted upon.

Written in perfect print, with a fat black marker the words  Whitebeard Ranch. were easy to see by the passing crowd. He stood at the entrance like he was told holding the sign. 

A blond sitting in the waiting chairs waved at him from the inside, elbowing a scrawny looking kid in the ribs. The guy gave him a pout and a shove  but the blond hardly seemed to care. He bent down to pick up some bags, which were resting on the ground. 

They made their way to help and Marco was glad to know he found them quickly. Though one seemed to be missing. 

“Hello, I’m Sabo. This is my brother Luffy” The blond said, while opening one of the doors. “It’s not to meet you- damn it’s hot out here! ”

Marco smiled. He and Sabo were going to get along just fine. “Isn’t it? By the way I’m Marco yoi.” He looks around for a bit expecting the third brother to follow them but no one approaches them.  “ Where is Ace?”

Luffy gave him a wide-toothed smile. The blond was almost blinded by it. “He went to go buy us a snake!”

“A snack Lu, not a snake.” Sabo corrects patiently without missing a beat. 

“Even better!” The kid cheered pumping a fist in the air. He turns to Marco with dazzling eyes  “He said to wait here in case you showed. That way we wouldn’t miss you!”

Marco was dealing with an adorable overly hyper child, wasn’t he?  He gave the kid who looked about seventeen a smile, aware of the sharp stare Sabo was giving him. He knows that look. As an older brother, he too had to make sure no one insulted his questionable intelligent brothers too.   “That was smart of him yoi.” 

Luffy beams

Sabo relaxes just a tad bit. He’s eyes look over the older man’s shoulders and he grins “Just in time. Here comes Ace.”

Marco turned to greet the last brother and almost choked on his spit. It was the hot tourist guy. He was running towards them with bags of Stalley’s written on them. 

A happy grin, identical to Luffy’s rested on his face as he waved. 

He’s shirt was blown back by the wind he caused and his chest was covered in sweat. More than a few people turn to watch him go by.

Marco was one of them, shamelessly checking him out.  He was going to share a room with his guy. Technically he was going to be in his bed. 

Fuck yes. The blond thinks Thank you Pops!

“Hi! Sorry, I’m late. My order took a while. I’m Ace” The last brother panted, face red from running. He didn’t wait for the older blond to say anything before waving one of the bags (which was good since he couldn’t even think at the moment). 

 “I hope you don’t mind some donuts. I didn’t know what flavor to get you so I got three. Chocolate, Blaze, and Strawberry. Thanks for coming all the way here for us.” The guys say leaning in just a bit to smile up at the blond. 

“Oh trust me. The pleasure is all mine yoi.” 

This summer may have just gotten a whole lot better. 

[jendoesjapan]

My Mental Illness Story (LONG)

WARNING: POSSIBLE DEPRESSION & SUICIDE TRIGGERS, FOUL LANGUAGE. Last night I received news that a female JET in my community committed suicide. Though we had never met in person, we chatted through Facebook several times and of course I recognized her at various JET events. I remember that I saw her standing alone at an ALT conference last month and thought that it would be the perfect time to introduce myself. However, I did not because I was too shy. Now, I am filled with regret at my decision. I will write about my depression story tonight in her honor and just in case it helps even one person.

I have struggled with depression since I was 17 years old (I am 32 now) and have been on and off medication over the years. Growing up, I blamed my parents for a lot of things, mostly for their lack of attention towards me. I would say that my anger towards my parents was the biggest reason for my depression for many years. It was not until I got older that I realized that parents are not perfect - they are human beings. They did the best they could raising me and my brothers. They both had to work full time to support the family and I never gave them credit for that. Also, I did not acknowledge my own faults either. I was a bratty, entitled teenage girl with wild mood swings. I was no picnic. It’s a miracle they never threw me out. 

Once I started to forgive my parents, my life got better. However, there was a dark cloud that had been (and still is) hanging over my head since I was 19 years old. The cloud has a name: Student Loan Debt. I have been drowning in over $50,000 of student loan debt for more than 10 years. This debt controlled almost every aspect of my life: my job, where I lived, the car I drove, what I was able to buy and do on a daily basis, etc. 

So let’s fast forward to when I was 28 years old. There I was, stuck living at home with my parents because I couldn’t afford not to, working 40 hours a week at a job that was not a good fit for me, taking night classes and online classes at a community college trying to better myself, living paycheck to paycheck every month, barely able to pay my loans, not sure what the future held for me. I felt like a complete, worthless failure. Then something started happening. I started waking up every day completely dominated by one emotion: anger. 

I was angry at everything. Angry at what I felt was a shitty lot in life, angry at myself for allowing things to get this bad, angry at the crooks who run private student loan agencies, angry at slow drivers, angry at people who got in my way at the grocery store, angry at my customers for blaming me for their broken cars, angry that I left the house 10 minutes early to get Starbucks and sat in the drive-thru for 20 minutes, angry at literally fucking everything. And the worst part was, I couldn’t turn off the anger, no matter how hard I tried. 

I started to hate myself. I’ve never been the most self-confident person in the world, mostly because I’m too aware. I’m aware of all my faults and every little stupid thing that I do or say. But this was different - I was starting to think that there was something truly, irrevocably wrong with me. I was a defected human being and maybe the world would be better off if I wasn’t around.

I became interested in suicide. I started watching documentaries on it and reading articles. I watched a documentary about people who jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, just a two hour drive from where I lived. I started thinking about suicide a lot. Could I do it? If I was going to do it, what method would I choose? What would happen after I did it? Would my family and the friends I barely talked to mourn for me for a few weeks and then forget about me?

I can tell you now that there is no way I would have done it. This is because I do not know what happens after we die and the fear of the unknown is more than enough motivation for me to not take my own life. Many religions have beliefs on where we go after we die, but I have been skeptical of religions for a long time. Many people are blessed with a little something called faith and I simply do not have it. If I can’t see something with my own eyes, I have a very hard time believing it. 

Once I realized that I was spending way too much time thinking about the concept of suicide, I called the doctor’s office to make an appointment with a psychiatrist. The woman on the phone told me in a bored voice that the doctor was booked two months out. 

“Umm, I’m having...thoughts,” I told her. My voice broke on the last word. She instantly changed her tune and booked me an appointment for the next day. I met with a doctor and got back on antidepressants. However, the medication made me even MORE agitated at first. I took charge and went back to the doctor again. I fought him tooth and nail to change my prescription. 

“I hate people, I’m angry ALL the time. THIS IS NOT NORMAL!” I shrieked at him. 

This motherfucker actually told me that I was perfectly normal and just had a “writer’s disposition.” Umm? Ok? But I have a job and bills dude, I can’t just pack up a typewriter and move to a fucking island somewhere to write my memoirs (funny story, I’m actually in the middle of writing TWO novels now, lol). But after he made his little comment, he begrudgingly agreed to treat me as a “mood disorder” patient rather than a “depression” patient. The medicine he put me on was completely different, and guess what? It worked like a fucking charm. 

Once I found the right combination of medicine, I started to feel like myself again. I was no longer angry, shit - I didn’t have a damn care in the world. I stayed on that medication throughout my time in junior college and continued taking it when I went on to university. I lost weight (until I went off the medication while living in Japan in 2015 and gained it back double), made friends at school who I had a blast hanging out with, and finally, FINALLY accomplished my goal of graduating college and getting a job as an English teacher in Japan. 

My story doesn’t have a happy ending, because it’s still ongoing. I’m living in Japan now, been off medication for about 9 months, and am still figuring out who I am as a person. I am happy to do this without medication because although it can be a wonderful lifesaver, I feel a bit foggy when I use it. 

I learned something about myself: I am introverted to a fault. Introverted people respond more strongly to outside stimuli, such as other people’s noises, actions, etc. I used to scream at my mom whenever someone did something gross like, “Ew, that guy just spit!!” And she’d say “Well stop looking at him!” But it’s not that easy for me, like I said before - I’m too AWARE. I am far too aware of other people’s actions and they affect me more strongly than they should. So while you might not notice the person standing too close behind you in line, or the guy yakking away on his cell phone while paying the cashier, I’m over here like, “What the actual FUCK is wrong with people?!” Do not even get me started on the real issues that are happening in the world today - racism, homophobia and transphobia, police brutality, TRUMP. We will be here all. fucking. night. 

I’m starting to ramble now, so let me bring it back. As you can see, my depression/mood disorder didn’t get magically cured. Mental illness is a battle, one that you may have to fight for decades, maybe even for your entire life. But let me tell you why you should: the world needs people like us. Why? BECAUSE WE ARE WOKE AS FUCK. Let me show you a little quote that my fellow English teacher who left this world yesterday has as the cover photo on her Facebook page: “People with depression score higher on tests of realism. Intelligence is positively correlated with mental illness and suicide. What this indicates is that if the mind understands too much about reality, it wants to destroy itself. Human life is existential horror.” 

Yes, it’s a harsh quote to read. But with this realization, you are all the more equipped to help yourself survive. Let me tell you how I survive: 1. I know when things are taking a bad turn, and I know when to ask for help (aka, seeking medication, counseling, etc). 2. I have a list of things that make me happy, and when I’m sad, I do something from the list (if nothing makes you happy anymore, SEE #1!!!!). 3. When the pain of the world is too much for me, I retreat (I stop reading the news for a while and bury myself in a book or movie). Note: I am a white, cisgender, straight woman. I am aware that I have the privilege of turning my back on issues from time to time because many issues today do not directly affect me. I am LUCKY. Many people are not. This tactic does not help the world become a better place, but it helps me survive. 4. I recognize when I am in my own head too much, and I GET OUT Being in your own head too much can be a very dangerous thing. Racing thoughts can lead to depression and suicide, no question. Talking with someone else or going out and doing something with someone else will get you out of your own head. This can save your life. 5. I set goals and I accomplish them They don’t have to be huge. Maybe you have small goals on your list like - “Get out of bed and get dressed today” or “Talk with one person today.”  Maybe you have big ones like “Lose 25 pounds” or “Graduate college.” Maybe you’re like me and have a mixture of both. But I swear to you, accomplishing goals does WONDERS for your self esteem. And many of us with mental illness can use as many self esteem boosts as possible. 

I’m sorry this post was so long and I’m sorry that I don’t have all the answers. Most of all, I’m sorry if you’ve ever had to struggle with mental illness as I have. YOU. ARE. NOT. ALONE. And above all else, please, PLEASE remember: IT GETS BETTER. Maybe you’re in a bad situation and you feel that things won’t get better for you. To that I say this: it gets easier. You become stronger. You learn more about yourself - your limitations, your fears, your needs. You get better at taking care of yourself. You get better at surviving. You can do it. I swear to you, if I can, YOU can. 

[stillbornphoenix-blog]

Break the Cycle

“Let the past die. Kill it if you have to.” - Star Wars: The Last Jedi

I’ve been meaning to start something like this for a while, but of course it’s only late at night when I’m intoxicated and can’t sleep that I actually conjure up the nerve to follow through with it. I need some journal outlet to express how I feel. That sounds lame, at least to me it does, but I do feel it’s necessary at this stage of the game. I need a place to vent my feels, to unravel my thoughts, to bleed on a page if for no better reason than to see what comes out. Raw unedited passion shotgun blasted onto a blog post. So here goes, day one, 1st entry.

Where to begin? At this point there is so much history, so much that has happened to add to the sum of my experiences, but in the end I still have to no fucking clue what to make of it all. All I know is that I know nothing. Everything that seemed right ended up wrong. Everything I thought was true and certain was a fallacy. As a person with a scientific nature, I hold on to absolutes. I cherish that which remains constant. I love math. 1 plus 1 always equals 2, but these days I wonder if the sky is even really blue. Looking back at every decision I ever made, with the information I had at the time, I don’t see how there could have been any alternative course of action. All the same, it all turned out wrong.

“If I could change I would take back the pain I would Retrace every wrong move that I made I would If I could stand up and take the blame I would I would take all the shame to the grave” - Easier to Run by Linkin Park

I’ll try to start at the beginning, but I can sum up all of grade school in a single short paragraph. Even since kindergarten I was girl crazy. I was raised Christian by my grandparents, and naturally I was a goody little two shoes. These two facts came into conflict when puberty hit and I experienced lust for the first time, and it was so much more powerful than my faith. Yet, I fought it tooth & nail. For 8 years all I can remember was the shame I felt for viewing porn and masterbating.

“I feel the light betray me” - Papercut by Linkin Park

I was 19 and still never had a girlfriend, I was rejected by a good Christian girl for the reason that she didn’t want to be with someone who’d been with another girl before. But here’s the clincher: I’d never had a girlfriend before. After that bullshit excuse I decided that everything was going to change. I researched what it meant to be an alpha male and I did everything I could to become that, short of turning into an asshole. I lost 60lbs, cut my hair, embraced my sexuality, adopted a false bravado, and I’ll be damned... it worked!

At the age of 21 I finally had a girlfriend, and she was insanely hot! I couldn’t believe my luck. Some months went by and we finally had the chance to have sex for the first time. Problem was I couldn’t get it up. I didn’t understand it. When we were together and flirting, even in my pants I was always at full mast, but here with our clothes off and this happens? She quickly drifted away after that and I never got a second chance. She even bothered to tell me that she suspected that I was gay. Real shot to the confidence there.

After my first real breakup, and still a virgin after having just turned 22, I became desperate. I had learned about craigslist personals and found a hetero couple who were looking for a virgin to break in. I put my name in the hat and was chosen. We met at some shady motel downtown and got started. For about 45 seconds I was able to keep hard enough to technically lose the v-card, but I couldn’t maintain it. I excused myself to the bathroom where I tried to recover some wood. The couple did there thing in the room and we awkwardly parted ways afterward.

Around this time I first heard of polyamory, the ability to love and maintain more than one romantic partner openly and ethically. I actually came up with the concept in my late teens long before I’d even heard of it, but assumed that I was the only one who felt that way (as I thought with masterbation) and had dismissed the idea. More on poly later...

Some months later I had a new girlfriend. We both still lived with our parents, so finding an opportunity to have sex was problematic. We resorted to trying in the car, but I still had difficulty keeping hard. I’ve come to determine that it was due to performance anxiety since with both her and my ex I knew they had been with many partners before me, and I was left wondering how the hell and a newbie I was going to satisfy them. As I stayed and continued to try with the new girl I eventually got my confidence up and was able to have sex the way a normal male in his young 20s should. I was absolutely insatiable.

Roughly a year into the relationship I started falling hard... really REALLY hard for a girl I worked with. I began to realize that my feeling with the new girl were stronger than that of the the girl I was with. I didn’t want to lose who I was with, but at the same time I couldn’t not explore my feeling for this new girl. Having not yet adopted the polyamorous mindset, and being in love with two monogamous girls, I had to roll the dice and sacrifice the established relationship to explore the new one.

With this new girl I will say was the most I have ever been head over heels for someone in my entire life to this day. Not only was it the most personally connected I’d ever felt towards someone, it was also the best sex I’d ever had (not just up to this point, but up to this day). That lasted for a summer until she had to move far away for school. We tried long distance, but everyone knows how that goes. Top that off with an open long distance relationship. Considering we both had different definitions of an open relationship, it was beyond terrible.

Fact: cute girls have no trouble getting sex. Fact: guys, no matter how attractive, have to try much harder to accomplish the same. Before she’d been gone a month she’d already found a fuck buddy, and within another month yet another fuck buddy. Me, no such luck. Now, I need to sidebar here to explain that to her, an open relationship was only sexually open, yet to me and my polyamorous nature an open relationship included romantic feelings. While she was getting plenty of dick where she was (including, since she felt the need to tell me, the biggest penis she’d ever seen being inserted inside of her), I began to develop a crush on a coworker who turned out to be polyamorous herself. Had I not been balancing a doomed LDR at the time, this polyamorous girl and I could have probably lived happily ever after, but that’s not how the tale unfolds...

The girl afar and I became insanely jealous of each other. So naturally, she started seeing one of her FWB in a more romantic light. Instead of force my hand, I ended things with the poly girl and flew to where the LDR girl was to try to salvage the relationship, but it was too late. In the end I lost both amazing women. I still miss both of them dearly.

What followed was alcoholism, depression, and an awkward string of attempted one night stands and friends with benefits. One FWB developed into a relationship. That lasted a while, until I realized that I was suppressing my polyamorous nature though this woman wanted me all to herself. I ended things with her and broke her heart. She offered to try a polyamorous relationship, and in hindsight I should have taken her up on this cause she probably would have grown to be poly herself knowing her, but I never gave her the chance. Just one more cross to bear.

I jumped immediately into a relationship with a classmate which is the only relationship I’ve been in that I’d consider a “bad” relationship. That lasted a semester and then it ended.

Here I was single, depressed, living with my parents again, and suddenly my mind started fucking up. The depression had developed a negative effect on my brain and memory function. It was then that I decided that I wanted to get better. While I started thinking positively for the first time in years, I reconnected with a girl from church who I grew up with. The age gap while we were in school would have been awkward at the time, but now it didn’t make a difference. We became close, even to the point that I wanted to actually be monogamous with her. As we got closer to the wedding she went on about this guy at her theatre that she was becoming close with. A week before the wedding she asked if we could be polyamorous, and since I had yet to practice polyamory successfully I leapt at the chance and agreed.

We got married. Her boyfriend ended up being a royal asshole and broke her heart. She was never the same after that, and as a result WE were never the same after that either. She became distant as a wife, but still present as a friend. I figured it was just the pains of heartbreak and did my best to be a good husband and be there for her. We almost stopped having sex altogether since she said it was painful for her, but I loved her for more than just sex so I still did my best to be a good husband to her. She eventually found a new boyfriend who was a bit less of an asshole and that took off. When our lease ended, he offered to let us rent a room on his property until we could secure funds for a house and we were on board.

For two months we all lived under the same roof: me, my wife, and her boyfriend. In the second month, she basically told me that our marriage was over, and that she wanted to be monogamous with the boyfriend. On the last night we spent together I didn’t even try to approach her for sex, it just didn’t seem right. The next morning, on the last day of us as a married couple, on the day I’m going to move out, she woke up next to me in bed and went straight to the boyfriends room to have sex. That was the first thing I encountered when I woke up.

That moment broke me. No, that’s an understatement... that moment shattered me to the core. She apologized and explained that she wasn’t thinking and just “going through the motions” which honestly made me feel a million times worse that her own goddamn husband wasn’t a part of her “routine.” So I moved in with family and within a week had my own apartment. This was a little over a month ago as of writing this.

In the month and a half to follow leading up to present day, I have worked out and gotten into good shape, taken my first step into the kink/BDSM community, and even met someone. I have decided that I will only get involved with someone who is already polyamorous. I’m going to explore my kink side as well as let my sexuality thrive again since its been repressed for the majority of my life including the past 4 years.

I have lost almost all of my friends and family when it came out that I am polyamorous and/or that I was going through a divorce. When shit hit the fan, I was left with one recently acquired friend and one recently discovered family member left that I felt I could be open and myself with about matters. Even at that I feel cautious sharing certain things with them. Now I am living completely on my own for the first time ever... no family, roommates, or lovers... and it’s the loneliness that’s the killer.