#i feel like that post about sunflowers being so tall

[ifwebefriends]

I’ve only listened to three The Crane Wives songs ever (Never Love an Anchor, Curses, and Turn Out the Lights) and jesus fuck two of those songs permanently changed me as a human being I’m not fucking ready for a fourth

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Hello ! Can I request an headcanon for Russia please ? Russia has been in a relationship with a human (gender neutral please) for almost a decade and one day he decides to tell them that he's a nation. After the confession his s/o decides to reveal to him that they're not human but immortal (like they were born in France at the beginning of the 19th century, so they are about 200 years old), how would Russia reacts ?

Thank you in advance, have a nice day ❤

Incoming fluffy post. I don't know why; just this ask filled my mind with clouds.

Enjoy anon~

From the outset of an innocent romance that began when you were in Tomsk. You had seen a tall and imposing giant on the opposite side of the lake looking over at you. At first, his stance toward you seemed ominous. He looked like a legend of a summer Yeti, greyish blond locks slightly rustled in the wind, ever still and watching from the foliage out at other humans that he knows whose lives are transient like that of the mosquitos other small insects that buzz incessantly in his ears. He'd been watching you for a while now since your arrival in the spring to a small cottage home built of pure stone.

Since you were new, you paid him no mind. For he only seemed to appear at random times through the first couple of months. You kept track of the times that you would see the "man beneath the trees" A fun little pastime while adjusting to the new realities of being in a new nation. It was fun and also extremely depressing at times.

You wouldn't be lonely for much longer. Though for one day, he brought his eager cat, who go overzealous and dived into the river. Somehow it swam fast over to your side of the river.

'My owner needs to be bold and get a grip. This is the only way to accomplish it.' As the Siberian Forest Cat speeds away even though it's coat was heavily laden with water from the pristine lake.

From that point on, he finally decided to talk to you. It started a decades-long relationship. That involved long nights walking through secret botanical gardens only he knew about to old war sites that carried history that he deemed essential to him. Some days would be filled with frigid silence after an argument. Others were strange where you only wanted to hold his hand, but not hear his voice. The extreme highs reached the icy tips of Mount Elbrus to the deep lows of the murky black sea. Your type of love is enduring, real, and rare.

Which is why it was easier ...yet still vexing for him because losing you would be a detriment to him, but it could also be spellbindingly exciting. He would no longer have to edit his feeling and speech with you. He could lament about his past and sing you the songs of which he sang while he was lonely.

You were in the same place where you met him when he decided to let the truth soar into the sky.

"Y/N?" He grips your hand tighter than usual. It was a polar bear grip that he had whenever he'd had a harsh truth to tell you. This action pulls you out of your mind and away from the blooming sunflower fields that were only 15 ft away from your vision. You maneuver your now worried eyes up towards his glowing lavender shades. His face is still primarily unreadable. You knew you had to depend on his subtle gestures to read him. You turned your body to face him, and you felt a little wobbly on the grassy ground that had small sprouts, lightly sweeping your snow shoes.

"Ivan."

"I'm a nation. Which means that I'm immortal and I've been alive for hundreds of years. I'm not like you at all but....You're one of the only beings to ever struggle with what love is, and I....." The words came rushing from his mouth like the Neva river reaching the Gulf. He wanted the unpleasant moment to be over in a flash. He know he'd lose you now. You'd think he's crazy, power-hungry, a mons-

A lone hand gently caresses his face to ease his fears. You're unsure of how to react to a confession like that. You don't accuse him of lies or of trying to gain some sort of tiktok fame. You simply just stay silent and allow you smile to bring the sunshine that he's always loved gleaming over his tattered soul. It was a safe haven for him.

"What's wrong sweetheart? If you're afraid you'll lose me because of the confession well consider that fear invalid."

You reached up onto your toes to give him a reassuring cheek kiss. He will in turn accept and let his cheeks go full flush. His face is as red as the last stripe in his flag.

"Y/N?" He asks again as his heart quivers, he's unsure of how to handle the host of new feelings that come along with being as free as a songbird released from it's cage.

If you got Russia of all nations to confess that he’s a nation… Holy Shit that’s a lot of emotional labor that you put into the relationship. Not only that he’s the hardest to get to confess. 

This is a topic that the two of you will have to work out over time. You’re going to be shell-shocked by the truth for a while so much so to where you do leave for a while to work out how you feel. Although during that time you reassure Ivan that you don’t hate him, it’s just a lot to consider. Since he trusts you, he doesn’t freak out about your sudden trip back to your home country. He knows that you need time to process. He’s witnessed you when you’ve been baffled and acknowledges that you need space. Although right before you leave and right after you come back, he will be high-level of clingy. So be prepared for that. You’re the longest stable and HEALTHY relationship he’s ever had so he doesn’t want to mess it up. However, since the foundation of your relationship is solid and not transactional in any manner. His confession to being a nation will draw the two of you together closer.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the day. You didn't need to. For the sturdy foundation of trust that was already built was enough for you to not worry about what he said but now you were curious as to what the real implications of his confession would be. But none of it scared you or made you anxious. For as long as you had trust that flowed freely between the two of you, nothing else mattered. You grabbed both of his thickly gloved hands and looked him dead in the eyes.

"I love you, Ivan Braganski." as a bold proclamation as if you were about to implement an immediate takeover. You rose to your feet once again and the sprouts seemed to bloom and push you upwards so that you could give him a gentle kiss.

[venusthepirate]

like any unloved thing part six : nothing’s gonna hurt you baby

Masterlist \ ao3 \ part one \ part two \ part three \ part four \ part five

taglist :  @avocado-writing @little-sunflower-bug @evangelineflowers @humbug5 @yume904 @sarcastic-sourwolf @chloeforde @illusionsnfantasies @cupofstarss @mystic-mara @staceysmomsposts @thatcharmingmushroom @www-interludeshadow-com @gingersass @hungoverhellhound @dunaahahah @raye2000 @eonnyx @supervoldejaygent

so sorry for the late update, I meant to post this wayyy earlier !! I hope you’ll enjoy it, please tell me what you thought :)

Fawn wakes up feeling very warm.  She blinks against the light filtering in the room through the half-closed curtains.

Tangerine is pressed against her, legs tangled with hers. His face is half mushed against the pillow, curls fully broken out of the perfectly slicked back hairstyle he usually does.

He looks younger like this, face relaxed. There’s no crease between his eyebrows, with the way he’s always frowning, as if the world personally made something to offend him. She raises a hand and gently brushes the pad of her thumb on the patch of skin.

Tangerine huffs in his sleep, mumbling incoherently, before turning a bit more to the other side, mushing his face even further into the pillow. Fawn can’t help but smile slightly.

After a while of staring at the ceiling and then at his back, she starts feeling overheated. The man is like a goddamn furnace, and the sweatpants he gave her are not really helping. She slowly disentangles away from him, wondering how it’s possible for a human being to radiate this much warmth.

She sits up on the mattress, feet against the warm carpet. There’s a small clock on the nighstand. It’s already eleven in the morning, but they did get here pretty late last night. It must have been… What, two a.m. ? Three ? She doesn’t even know.

The weight of everything that happened dawns on her. The dead man, somewhere. Tangerine, soundly sleeping next to her.

She should maybe wake him up, ask him if she can go home. She has a thousand things to do. She needs to check up on Violet, to… She doesn’t exactly know what. She wants to hole up in her small flat and not go out again, for maybe a few years, until she’s sure the world’s forgotten about her.

At the same time, she doesn’t really want to leave this place. Here, she feels like the real world doesn’t really exist. Like time stopped, and she’s here, in a safe cocoon. She strangely feels like she is safe here. Nothing would happen to her.

Which is maybe not a healthy way to feel, especially seeing as the man asleep beside her is an assassin.

She shakes her head, trying to put some sense into her thoughts, and decides to get up. Maybe she can make herself some tea. Make him a cup as way of saying thank you.

She stands up and pads silently towards the door, trying to make the less noise possible. She steals a look back at Tangerine, unable not to. She can’t even see his face where it’s buried into the pillow, only the mess of curly hair peeking out from the sheets.

There are faint noises coming from the kitchen, but her mind is so wrapped around last night, whatever the hell she’s feeling right now, and Tangerine, that she doesn’t really pay attention to it. It’s only once she’s stepped into the living room that she notices the man standing behind the counter.

She freezes, so surprised that she’s unable to act, or do anything, other than stare at him. The man is tall, with dark skin and bleached short hair. He’s pouring what looks like cacao powder into a mug.

He must have sensed her presence, because he looks up and startles a bit, the cacao power he was holding in the spoon spilling everywhere around the mug. Fawn is torn between the need to laugh or not.

“Shit”, the man murmurs, looking very dejected at the mess he made on the counter. Then, he brightens up, looking back at her. “Hi”, he tells her, extremely jovial, which makes everything even more confusing.

“Hi ?” Fawn replies, confused.

“Want some hot chocolate ?” The man asks, as if this is the most normal thing to ask to a stranger. “I can make a second mug.”

Maybe she was hit harder than she thought yesterday, because she simply nods, dumbfounded at the way things are going, and walks further inside, until she’s standing on the other side of the counter, across from him.

She watches as he takes another mug from the cupboard behind him and busies himself with pouring chocolate powder into this one too. The spilled powder is still on the counter. He doesn’t even bother wiping it, and Fawn resists the urge to tell him to be careful, but the sleeves of his white shirt are already stained with it.

“Oh ! I’m Lemon, by the way”, the man says. “I’m Tangerine’s brother.”

She doesn’t really do a great job at hiding the surprise on her face. Lemon chuckles, batting a hand.

“Yeah, we get that a lot. Grew up in foster care, yaddi-yadda.”

“He did tell me he had a brother”, Fawn murmurs. She doesn’t comment on the obviously fake name. She can’t help but think that it’s sweet, the way they chose matching code names. Both fruits. Citrus, even. Tangerine and Lemon.

It does have a nice ring to it.

“I’m Fawn”, she tells him, then.

He looks up at her, arching an eyebrow.

“Fawn ?” He repeats. She nods, unsure. “Like, baby deer fawn ? Bambi fawn ?”

This is the weirdest conversation she’s ever had.

“Yeah.”

Lemon snorts, nodding to himself. “That’s a pretty cool name, actually. I like it. Bambi’s an amazing movie, y’know. The message, the scenario”, he adds, gesturing with his hands. The microwave beeps behind him, and he pauses for a moment to get both their mugs out of it, depositing Fawn’s in front of her. “I legit still cry when I see that scene. Don’t understand how those rich assholes can enjoy hunting animals after watching that movie. Shit, killing animals really is fucked up.”

“Yeah, those rich assholes really love hunting”, Fawn murmurs, taking a sip of her drink. It tastes amazing. She wants to ask him how he makes such a good hot chocolate.

“And I love killing those rich assholes”, Lemon says.

Fawn nearly strangles, struggling to swallow her next sip of hot chocolate. She stares at him, coughing a little. What the fuck is she supposed to respond to that ?

“I’m a vegetarian.” It sounds kind of like a question. She absolutely did not mean to say that, nor did she mean to make it sound like she’s asking herself.

Lemon nods, completely serious.

“I should really become one”, he muses. “I really love animals. Always wanted to get a cat or a dog. But Tangerine makes a really mean lasagna, and he says he doesn’t want hairs on his suit.”

Fawn is faced with the mental image of Tangerine in the kitchen, cooking. The vision is so oddly domestic. She doesn’t really know what to do with the information that Tangerine actually know his way around a kitchen.

“Maybe I should start small”, Lemon continues, rambling. “Maybe a gold fish, right ?”

Fawn coughs, trying to clear her throat.

“Tangerine told me you didn’t have time to take care of your plants, though. That’s why you got fake ones.”

He sighs, looking disappointed, and Fawn feels suddenly very guilty for crushing his hopes.

“You’re right. Oh ! But I could adopt one, and you could drop by to feed it when I can’t !” He sounds so excited and happy at this idea that Fawn just stares at him, unable to say anything, like, what the fuck.

“I-”

“That reminds me”, he adds, serious again, not letting her answer his previous statement. “I don’t mean to be rude, but, who are you exactly ? I know only three things about you : your name’s Fawn, you somehow know Tangerine, and you killed a guy yesterday.”

Fawn tries to swallow around the sudden lump in her throat. She takes a sip of the hot chocolate, trying to take her time, while her mind desperately scrambles to find an answer. The last two parts of his sentence are things she doesn’t really know how to address.

But she really doesn’t want to address the murder part. Not now.

“I’m just a friend of Tangerine’s”, she finally manages to reply. She wishes she could sound more confident. She’s usually much better at lying, but now her voice sounds pathetically weak, even to her own ears.

Lemon arches an eyebrow, looking unconvinced.

“You came out from his room, though.”

Fawn winces. She can’t well say that she’s a hooker and he hired her, right ? If his own brother doesn’t know, then she should really keep her mouth shut. Also, it would be pretty difficult to explain what exactly the deal between them was.

She’s not even sure herself what the deal between them is anymore. She knew, at the beginning. Now…

“It’s… Complicated”, she settles on offering him, trying to hide her uncertainty behind her mug.

Lemon stares at her still, looking extremely unimpressed.

“That doesn’t sound ominous at all”, he comments, sarcastic, but he seems to let it go, swiveling his stool around to put his empty mug in the sink. He stands up then, extending his arm to grab a small craft bag, and offers it to her. “Pastry ? Bought them this morning, they’re fresh.”

Fawn realizes that she hasn’t eaten for maybe twenty hours, and that she’s really, really hungry. She sends him a grateful look, taking a small round pastry out of the bag. She takes a bite, surprised to find that it’s filled with whipped cream.

“Shit, this is delicious”, she blurts out, wiping some crumbs from her mouth.

Lemon gives her a beaming smile.

“Right ? It’s from a small French bakery, just around the corner. It’s fucking awesome. Tangerine always pretends he’s above things such as pastry, but half of them always go missing when I’m not looking.” He looks at something behind her shoulder, and grins. “Well, speak of the devil. Would it be that sleeping beauty finally woke up ?”

Fawn whirls around. Tangerine is standing at the entrance of the living room, messy curls falling in front of his face. His eyes fall on Fawn, and there’s a brief look of relief on his face, as if he’s glad to see that she’s here. Something in her chest constricts, staring at him. It’s painful, like her insides are twisting themselves.

“Oh, fuck off”, Tangerine mumbles, raking a hand to pull his hair out of his eye. His tee-shirt rides up a bit, exposing a patch of skin at his hip. Fawn tries not to look at it.

“I hope Lemon here isn’t going on about Thomas the tank engine”, Tangerine tells her, passing by her to join his brother behind the counter. He grabs a mug from the cupboard and sets it down beside the sink.

Fawn has no idea what that even means.

“I was not”, Lemon protests, sounding offended.

Tangerine snorts. Lemon turns to Fawn, almost pleadingly.

“Tell him I wasn’t.”

“He wasn’t”, Fawn says, trying not to sound too uncertain. He definitely didn’t mention any Thomas the tank engine, she’s pretty sure she would have remembered it.

Lemon nods at her appraisingly, before addressing his brother again.

“Want some hot chocolate ?”

“Absolutely not”, Tangerine replies. He sticks a coffee pod into the coffee machine, presses onto some button, and turns back towards Fawn. “Let me get some coffee, and I’ll drive you home, alright ?”

Fawn nods. Tangerine stares at her for a few longer seconds, before focusing back on his coffee. He frowns at something on the counter.

“Fuck’s sake, Lemon, there’s fucking chocolate everywhere.”

Maybe these two aren’t related by blood or share any common features, but there’s absolutely no doubt now that they’re brothers, simply by the way they act around each other.

Lemon’s eyes widen. He winces and stands up.

“Right”, he says, “I really need to get a shower. It was nice meeting you, Bambi.”

Fawn offers an awkward little wave and a smile as Lemon scurries out of the kitchen. When she swivels back towards the counter, Tangerine is leaning against the sink, looking at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Bambi ?” He repeats.

“Yeah, uh, you know, Bambi”, she replies, circling the edge of the mug with a finger, for lack of better thing to do with her hands. “Bambi the fawn. From the movie.”

Tangerine snorts, shaking his head.

“Should have guessed.” He takes a sip of his coffee, before pointing with his mug towards wherever Lemon went. “Sorry about him.”

“Oh no, he was nice”, Fawn protests. She actually means it. He seems… Sweet, which is maybe not the right word to describe someone who apparently kills people for a living, but she can’t find other words to describe him. Their conversation was definitely the weirdest one she’s ever had, but she doesn’t mind. Weird is nice sometimes.

“Yeah, he drives me fucking crazy”, Tangerine sighs. “Always leaves his fucking mug in the sink.”

Fawn can’t help but smile slightly. They fall into silence for a few moments, before she speaks again.

“So, Lemon and Tangerine. Matching names ?”

He groans aloud, thumping his head back against the cupboard.

“Please don’t start with this too.”

“It’s cute.”

“Fuck off”, Tangerine says, but without any heat to it. He swallows the rest of his coffee in one go, head thrown back. Fawn catches a glimpse of his golden necklace, hanging around his neck beneath the collar of his shirt.

He puts the mug into the dishwasher, then hers and Lemon’s. She doesn’t know why, but seeing this simple action sends her lungs into another painful twist.

“C’me on”, he tells her. “I’ll drive you back.”

She waits for him to get dressed, and follows him out. She wishes she could have said goodbye to Lemon, but when she retrieves her purse, the door to the bathroom is closed, and she can hear water running.

Tangerine opens the door for her, letting her slip inside the passenger seat, before closing it behind her and circling around the car to sit behind the wheel. She gives him her address, and finds that she’s not as freaked out as she thought she’d be at giving a client her personal address. Especially one that does end up being a murderer.

Just as he’s putting the key into the inhibition, Fawn realizes she’s still wearing his clothes.

“Shit, what about your clothes ?” She asks, gesturing at herself.

Tangerine glances at her with a shrug.

“Yeah, you can keep them, love, don’t worry.” He looks at her again, before looking quickly back at the road, as if he’s feeling guilty for looking at her and getting caught. “Also, don’t worry about the whole… yesterday. Lemon took care of the body, and any cameras that could have caught a sight of you.”

She nods. “Thanks”, she murmurs, fiddling with the hem of the too large sleeves of the sweater.

The rest of the drive goes in silence. Fawn stares out of the window, while Tangerine taps on the wheel absently, rings clinking softly together. She steals quick glances from time to time, staring at his profile, the way he looks like this, disheveled, hair unstyled.

Before she knows it, Tangerine slows down the car in front of her building. She hides her surprise when he gets out of the car too, but is actually glad he’s walking her up. She doesn’t know exactly what she’s supposed to say when he leaves.

He follows her up the stairs to her floor, and waits behind her as she finds the keys from her purse. Maybe she ought to feel self-conscious about the fact that he’s going to see where she lives, but she was just in his home, so she figures turnabout is fair.

She lets him in, closing the door behind him. He takes a few steps inside, looking around, and brushes a finger against the leaf of one of her plants at the entrance.

“Real plants”, he says, turning back towards her. There’s a hint of a smile in the curl of his lips. “You got a whole lot of them.”

She smiles back, unable to stop herself. “Lemon is right, it’s good to have them around. For the purity of the air.”

He rakes a hand in his hair again.

“Yeah, maybe I should buy him real plants. But they would die.” He glances at her. “You could always drop by to water them, or some shit like that.”

Fawn is so stunned she remains silent. She’s suddenly reminded of Lemon’s earlier suggestion for her to come feed his potential gold fish. The image is so ridiculous she wants to laugh.

But here, staring at Tangerine, at the way his eyes are wide, honest, his expression full of something like uncertainty and… Vulnerability ? She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know how to act, face with his openness, how she’s supposed to feel. Someone carved a hole in her ribcage and left her bleeding.

“I should go”, Tangerine murmurs, expression guarded again.

Something in her chest catches, panic flooding her senses, and she grabs his wrist when he tries to pass by her to leave. He stops, eyes flicking up to hers. He looks as uncertain as she feels, but he doesn’t pull away from her grip, and she doesn’t let go. She slides her fingers from his wrist to the palm of his hand.

His eyes are very blue. He’s standing very close.

“Thank you”, she says, quietly. “For helping me.”

He nods, looking at their joint hands. She can almost feel his pulse.

She asks the question she’s been agonizing over for the last few hours.

“What now ?”

His eyes find hers again. He seems to be searching her face for something.

She doesn’t know if she means to ask about what happened yesterday, or about the two of them. Maybe both.

“Carry on as usual. Wait a bit for the bruises to fade. And then… You can go back to your life.”

She swallows around the lump in her throat, nodding. She feels… Disappointed, that he didn’t catch on to the other meaning of her question. At the same, she doesn’t know if she’s ready to address the situation.

“Hey”, Tangerine murmurs. He raises a hand to settle at the back of her neck, not pulling, just… Holding. Fawn’s breath catches in her chest. “I’m sorry about last time. And about yesterday. I’m... I’m an asshole, I know that. I’m really shit at excuses and whatnot. But you deserved better than that.”

Fawn is, once again, at loss for words. She hates it. She’s not used to it. Usually, she’s the confident one, taking the reins with her clients, making them comfortable. She’s the one to give them affection and whatever they desire. She’s not used to the other way around.

She realizes, with startling clarity, that she craves the same thing he does, and that he paid her for. And she wants it from him. Not someone else.

“Take care of yourself, alright ?” Tangerine tells her, softly.

He pulls his hand gently from her grip, and steps back, his other hand falling away from her neck.

Her skin feels cold in the absence of his touch, even though she can still feel the ghost of his fingers. She shouldn’t miss his touch this much, but she does. Fuck, she does. She doesn’t want to, but there’s not so much denial one can do. Her palms are empty, weightless. She feels like she’s floating away without the weight of him grounding her.

She doesn’t need him. She doesn’t need anyone. She’s always lived her life this way, alone, walls between her and others. Protected, safe, but alone.

She doesn’t need him, but she still wants him all the same.

She remains standing there for a long time, even after he leaves. Even more uncertain on where both of them stand.

[murmurmurl]

i need u to tell me everything about your unit so when ill be writing once i have time, i can put them in it too

hohoheheoehehehoheoe,,,,,,, I'm gonna use this as an opportunity to shove all of the most important info into one place. Everything is a little all over the place tho, but it's always like that wjkhkskh

Helianthus♡Light!

Helianthus is the genus which includes sunflowers. Fumi and Seina suggested this part of the name, since Fumi loves flowers and the flower language/symbolism behind them, and Seina knows the more,, biological/scientific stuffs. The "Light" part is both because it also has to do with sunflowers, and Toshiro suggested that they're "reaching for light", because they chose the name at the end of their main story and they were feeling very hopeful,, it's not like they're not hopeful now, idk why I phrased it like that ANYWAYS.

I'm kind of not sure what type of music they play (mainly because I don't know ANYTHING about music genres lol), but it's definitely something warm, nostalgic, maybe a bit echo-y, somewhat soft, and their cover arts definitely include a lot of nature stuff,,,,, I haven't designed their virtual singers yet, but they're probably gonna be Rin and Luka (and Miku obv)

Unit members!

Toshiro Hasegawa (they/he)

178 cm tall, unit leader, probably main vocalist?, class 2-B (post-3rd anni), class 1-C (pre-3rd anni). Pretty energetic and outgoing, straight-A student, very afraid of failure and tends to try to earn love and affection through exceeding at everything because family problems, yay. Has an older brother (Hiroto Hasegawa, he/him), who is a part of ANOTHER unit,, The two are pretty distant. The whole family actually is, woops. Toshiro is also VERY into crystals and spirituality. It gives a sense of certainty. Also has an orange cat named Surfer. They're a big MMJ fan, specifically Airi fan. Friends with Ichika and An. Always braids/does everyone's hair.

Matsu Kimura (he/him)

162 cm, probably also vocals, but mainly deals with the uhm technical musical stuff that I know nothing about?? class 3-C (post-3rd anni), class 2-B (pre-3rd anni). Very bubbly, energetic, affectionate, super-uber-extra autism (sea-flavoured), very average grades because he only really does what he's interested in, but he does it rlly good. Used to get bullied in middle school, struggles with people's expectations and trying to fit in. Very-very silly. Only child. Keeps pet fish. Friends with Emu. Very tactile, loves tackling people.

Fumi Hatanaka (she/they)

169 cm, loves musical instruments and plays guitar, class 2-A (post-3rd anni), class 1-B (pre-3rd anni). A surprisingly bad student, doesn't care about school. She's pretty reserved and a bit grumpy most of the time but tends to easily get angry and even a little aggressive. Cares a lot about her friends, even though she doesn't really know how to show it. Also doesn't want to show "weakness". Blames herself for being too soft in middle school and not being able to help Matsu. Her family owns and runs a small flower shop. Friends with Shiho, dislikes Tsukasa and Rui (thinks they're too obnoxious and chaotic lmao). Also an only child. Doesn't have pets, but feeds strays that often hang out around the shop. Friends with Shiho and pretty much all of leo/need, as well as Toya. Can be pretty distant physically, but likes subtle physical gestures of affection.

Seina Amari (she/her)

175 cm, writes lyrics for their songs, loves writing in general, the only one in the group who goes to Miya girls', class 3-B (post-3rd anni), class 2-B (pre-3rd anni). Does VERY good at school, super responsible, helps everyone, though isn't actually all that interested in most subjects except literature. She's very calm and caring, always tries to help everyone, has a very gentle energy about her. This mostly comes from the fact that she had hurt a dear friend in the past, which was actually genuinly her fault, but also some shit happened, and she ended up dealing with this by being overly-caring and not letting her loved ones see when she's struggling. Doesn't mean she doesn't ACTUALLY care though. She very much does. Has a younger sibling (Taru Amari, they/them), who's also part of the same unit Hiroto is! Also has a pet bunny named Puddle, who's very similar to her, which I think is funny,, not exactly friends with Mafuyu, but just a little bit closer than regular acquaintances. Close friends with Shizuku and pretty much the rest of MMJ too (Toshiro nearly fainted when they found out). Has a part-time job at a local coffee shop, where she met and became friends with Ena. Often shows affection/compassion by something like placing a hand on someone's shoulder.

I decided that they all should have emojis because,, idk,,,, it's fun,,,,,, so:

Toshiro – 🍑

Matsu – 🦈 (or jellyfish, but I don't have this one and don't want to have to copy-paste it every time,,)

Fumi – 🍊

Seina – 🍃 or ✒️ (but here I mostly use ✒️)

How all of them know each other!

(Because I wanted ALL of them to have some kind of connection to each other before the unit was formed. I think it's fun.)

🦈🍊 Matsu and Fumi are childhood friends and went to the same middle school. It was very awkward and tense at first when they met again in high-school, because back then Fumi felt extremely guilty and ended up distancing herself, eventually kind of abandoning Matsu when he needed support most.

🍑🍊 (fucking fruits /j) Toshiro's brother visits Fumi's family's flower shop very frequently, that's how Toshiro and Fumi met, since she often helps out with the shop in the evenings. Though they didn't become close until the main story started and the unit was firmed.

🍑✒️ Toshiro and Seina know each other because their siblings, Hiroto and Taru, are friends! So they kinda met through Seina accompanying Taru whenever they wanted to visit Hiroto.

🍊✒️ Fumi loves coffee and met Seina when going to the coffee shop Seina works part-time at. Because Fumi ended up being a regular customer there, even with their tough personality the two became acquaintances, but also didn't become very close until the events of the main story.

🍑🦈 Toshiro and Matsu just kinda bumped into each other at school. They became friends before the events of the main story.

🦈✒️ I think Matsu and Seina are the only exception though. They've only met when the main story started.

[also, side note – none of them canonically have labels, but the pronouns are canon]

Dynamics!!

🍑🍊 They bicker and argue a lot, but not, like, SERIOUSLY. They're both aware they're joking and most of the time it's affectionate. Fumi isn't as big of a fan of physical affection as it seems the rest of the unit is, so Toshiro doesn't get the chance to braid her hair that often. But when he does, it's very nice and relaxing for both. Surprisingly, Toshiro might be the closest to Fumi, after Matsu, that is.

🍑✒️ Toshiro loves braiding/doing everyone's hair, as I've mentioned already, and his favorite to do this to is Seina. They especially like braiding these tail-like longer parts of her hair. Overall, they're pretty close because of their siblings, and Toshiro might be one of the first people Seina eventually opens up to. Also, I keep forgetting that Toshiro is actually taller. Most of the time, Seina just. FEELS taller, idk.

🍑🦈 These two are very close. They both kinda admire Rui and Tsukasa, which worsens their already chaotic behavior. They're actually two menaces together and no one is safe. Matsu loves tackling Toshiro more than everyone else and Toshiro might sometimes jokingly complain, but loves the attention. Matsu's hair is also his second favorite to braid. Also they drag Matsu to MMJ concerts and keep trying to convert him into being an MMJ fan,,,,,,

🍊✒️ Seina has a surprising way of calming Fumi down better than anyone else. Sometimes, maybe if they're waiting for something or riding a train somewhere, Fumi even allows herself to rest on Seina's shoulder. She's less harsh with Seina (even if her harshness isn't malicious with her friends). Seina sometimes has to stop Fumi from getting into fights. Even if she struggles to show it, Fumi tries her best and appreciates Seina a lot.

🍊🦈 As I mentioned before, Matsu and Fumi are childhood friends. At the beginning of the unit story things are still pretty awkward and Fumi is very tense around Matsu, as she still feels guilty, but isn't sure how to properly express any of it, while Matsu still feels a little hiet over her abandoning him. Though as the story goes on, this conflict pretty much gets resolved, even though it will still take a lot of time for any awkwardness to disappear completely. After the unit is formed, they're pretty close again, despite, uh, all of what I just said. They need some time to get used to each other again, but ARGHHH I LOVE THEM SO MUCH, they care about each other A LOT, even if Fumi isn't the best at expressing it. The whole reason she became so mean and harsh is to be able to protect Matsu.

✒️🦈 Seina kinda feels like an older sister figure to Matsu, I think? At least, for me,, She worries about him a lot, maybe even more than with the others, helps in overwhelming situations, all that. He's still very affectionate, but it's kinda like his affection is more calm with her (basically, he doesn't tackle her as hard as everyone else /hj)

SEKAI description!!!

(I just copy-pasted this from the post where I first described it. I'm NOT typing all that ever again)

I mentioned that I call it the overgrown sekai. Because it's, well, overgrown. As you could hopefully guess. The main part of it is an old stone structure, with some intricate carvings still remaining visible and even discernable, although everything does look like it's at least.. a few centuries old, no less. However, taking into account that it's a sekai, it probably isn't that ancient. Almost everything is pretty much overrun by plants – ivy spreading across the grey stone walls, grass (and most importantly flowers) breaking their way through the floor that seems to be made of marble, but it's too old, overgrown and at times dirty to be completely sure. The said flowers are a strange mix of forget-me-nots and sunflowers that may not quite make sense, but it *is* a whole ass other dimension, after all. There's plenty of light, despite practically no windows in sight, save for a few small ones. The reason for that being the roof, shaped like a dome, with holes in it that clearly weren't here by the first design, having appeared because of the stone collapsing over time. Unsurprisingly, the flowers are concentrated in the areas where the most light seeps through those holes. And speaking of light, the time here is always the same – late afternoon, with the season always remaining a comfortable sunny summer.

There's some furniture in the building, mostly along the walls, with the center looking almost like a flowerbed. That furniture seems to represent each of the owners of the sekai – an old desk made of dark wood with a quil and some paper thrown around it, almost giving it an impression that the owner left in a hurry. The paper has become a light yellow color over what may or may not be a rather long amount of time. Next to it – a somewhat fancy wooden chair. There are mirrors hung around this part of the space – some broken, some have the glass taken out entirely. Just a little further – a shelf and an armchair. Both items' materials and overall look fit that of nearly very other piece of furniture here. The shelf is filled with items that seem to have some spiritualistic significance – amulets, crystals and stones, all of them hand-made and hand-carved, yet seeming to lack in accuracy and having been made in a hurry. The armchair strangely has a few long chains hanging on its back. One of the more noticeable pieces of furniture is... a fish tank. It has no fish. In fact, it doesn't even have water, though it's probably not intended to be that way – the tank is spacious and has pretty much almost everything a fish would need to be happy and content in captivity. But it's old and worn out – the driftwood rotting away, whatever plants used to be inside have withered and everything is covered in a thin layer of... dust..? The tank itself stands on top of something of a dresser. If you care to open its doors, you will see rows upon rows of books – as many as could fit in the little space there is inside. Most of them have to do with marine life, but there are also some journals full of incomprehensible messy writing, as if whoever was filling them either didn't have much time, or was feeling too much emotion to care. Perhaps the strangest item in the building is a cage. It's designed just like one of those small restricting bird cages, glistening with gold in the light from above, but for some reason, the cage could easily fit a human. If you decide to step in, you might notice an unexpected aroma. It's vague and subtle, but... it almost seems like fresh black coffee mixed with something citrusy. Outside, the building is surrounded by a dense forest. The light can't penetrate the abundance of trees, but somehow, it doesn't feel eerie or threatening. It feels familiar in an unexplainable way. Have you already seen these woods somewhere..?

I think that's pretty much all the important stuff..? I ramble A LOT about small details pretty often, but uhm. Explodes.

[alexanderflowerbird]

DAY 12

Ahh! Late again! I did write yesterday, mind, but I spent my evening with some of the folks in my writing group talking about one of their projects because they were stomped on some plot beats and we were working together to inspire them and come up with options for them to work with. It was SO MUCH FUN, and I'm so excited to see what they do with the story after this boost of inspiration! But literally after that? Went right the fuck to sleep lol. So here I am, having woken up at 4:30 AM to report on yesterday's progress lol.

I have curated my playlist for Blood Sun Territory, and it is really helping me get all of my ideas in order, and yesterday, I worked chronologically so I'm on chapter two of BST and Malachi is finding his way in the world, figuring out a game plan to get back to Felina and Mercedes. Along the way, he's having these small interactions and I honestly love writing stuff like this. I love an impactful moment between strangers. I love a sudden feeling of connection. I love a random act of kindness, even if the person isn't nice at the same time, because nice and kind are not the same thing.

It was such a pleasure to hang out with my friends and talk about the art we create together. It makes it all worth it to keep working, when people who's work you admire and respect are invested, and proud, and curious, and want to see you keep going. I am that person for a lot of people, but I have those people for me too, and man. What a gift it is. <3 I know I wax poetic about it a lot in these entries lol, but like, times are hard! It would be easy, had been easy in the past, to go to work, come home, lay down and despair. Having no real support can really kill a part of you that's vital to being the beautiful person you are. I'm glad I'm rediscovering this part of me after so much hardship. My love language? It's creation, baby lol Taglist: @tragedycoded @thelittlestspider @theskeletonprior @badscientist

If you'd like to be part of my taglist, please interact with this post!

His first home, temporary as it is, is the Clover Hotel. It’s old, but the property seems to be something of a dearly loved personal project, a building that could probably be bulldozed and forgotten but that someone with money to their name refuses to see it die like so many other classic old businesses in the city. It doesn’t have doors that open on their own or a pristine, sterile lobby like the big name hotels that are slowly swallowing up the market. It has a regular door that pushes in and has a twinkling brass bell over it. It has old sofas and an ancient but freshly varnished coffee table on one side of the space for guests to enjoy tall, west facing windows and a view that isn’t some dull, bricked up alley way but instead a small garden full of hydrangeas and herbs and the occasional bright pop of small sunflowers. He approaches the front desk, and smiles with what he hopes is a convincing level of charm at the older asian woman occupying the desk. She looks at him and smiles back. 

“Hello! Welcome, room?” Her accent is charmingly thick and a refreshing sound when Malachi has been so used to punchy east coast accents and traipsing southern drawls, American accents born from the very land. This woman, her name tag says ‘Suzy’, and her voice reminds Malachi that there’s a whole world that exists, not just this city or even this state. Maybe to find Felina and Mercedes, he’ll have to go across an ocean, see a whole new place. He’d never traveled outside of the country growing up. He nods at her question and imagines what it might be like if he discovers Felina has taken Mercedes to live in China. 

He only has backdrops in his mind that come from old kung fu movies and pictures in books, but it’s still a pretty thought and thanks to Felina’s impossible, unanticipated kindness, his mind doesn’t crumple up the vision and add it to the pile of scenarios where he faces total, devastating rejection. His anxiety does get a word in though as he imagines China’s sleek modern cities, its ancient misty mountains and beautiful villages. He has no idea how much it would cost for him to make it to China, he doesn’t know any words except the ones Leeroy had introduced to him when his occasional-lover had taken a turn towards understanding all things linguistics. ‘Ya know, Chinese is a pretty cool language, Malachi. It’s got a beautiful shape for every word, and sometimes, the word do sound sorta like another word, but you see that beautiful shape and you realize it’s a whole other word!’ Leeroy had been ecstatic to discover the idea of tones shortly after pondering how the symbols could be different but the words could sound so similar. Did people in China always read and speak at the same time? That didn’t make any sense of course, so off Leeroy had gone with a smacking kiss to Malachi’s brow to find out the answer. His reminiscing and daydreaming pop like a bubble as Suzy’s expression goes from friendly to neutral and guarded. She’s looking at the ID he’s given her to put on file. 

“This old, expired. I cannot use expired.” She tells him, setting it on the counter and sliding it towards him. He feels his stomach sink and is surprised at himself in his reluctance to admit his circumstance to this woman when he’d told Leslie at the bank the truth without really thinking about how she might react. It’s nothing to do with either of the women he realizes; when he’d come to Leslie, he’d had no hope at all for success and had been prepared to discover that his first day out of prison would be spent on the street with no food or help because he had no money worth noting to his name. In those circumstances, why not admit he’s a felon? If Leslie hadn’t been so kind, he could’ve dashed his chances right there and not found out about Felina’s money for him at all, let alone have a new bank card. He struggles to decide to take that gamble a second time. Now he has something to lose, though he isn’t sure what. He could find another hotel, or even seek out a shelter for the night, but he has stupidly, sentimentally looked around for the last few hours for a hotel he can temporarily call home, and he’s picked this one, and he wants to be here. 

“I–” He tries to begin. “I know, I’m sorry. I need to get it replaced, but, I…” He can feel his ribs tightening in his chest around his organs. Does he roll the dice and share something most people find repulsive and hope Suzy will understand? This history will follow him everywhere, and just now, it’s not even history, barely history. Suzy watches him stumble through his words with an unimpressed expression and then sighs. 

“You lazy?” She asks, disapproving. Malachi blinks at her. “You lazy.” She seems to confirm her opinion in his shocked expression. “Okay…Malachi.” She says as she checks the name from his ID. She taps it on the counter while she thinks, sighing again, before setting it down. “You listen okay? Outside, Treetop Street, left, go for numbers to 8th Av’,left again, down, down, down, looking for big red letter. Ah… Notary?” She doesn’t look at him to confirm if she’s chosen the right word. “Maybe. You take this,” She emphasizes it and shakes the ID at him a little, “Get new one. Okay?” Malachi nods, solemn and feeling guilty even if her interpretation of what he’s done is entirely wrong. There’s something almost refreshing to feel a new, much more innocent sense of shame. He reaches for his ID from between her fingers and she pulls it back from him. 

“Tomorrow. You sleep here tonight, go tomorrow. You remember?” She asks and the way she looks at him he knows he isn’t meant to just say yes. 

“Treetop, left, 8th Av’, left again, find the notary with the big red letters further down the street.” He repeats back to her, and Suzy makes a low approving noise before offering his ID back. She gets up from her seat and brings him a card key, perhaps the most modern part of the experience and likely an upgrade that the Clover had to make to compete with the security measures of other more modern hotels. Suzy is smiling again, beatific and pleased. 

“You enjoy, come tomorrow with new ID and you stay as long as you like.” She charms, and Malachi can’t help but smile back at her. 

“Thank you ma’am.” He says, dipping his head and tucking his old ID and his debit card back into his wallet. 

“Breakfast at 8, okay? Come.” She invites, and with a little wave, she lets him off the hook, just like that. He’d been scared, damn near terrified for some stupid reason, but a charming little slap on the wrist hasn’t stopped his momentum at all. He doesn’t need to correct Suzy’s opinion about him being lazy, he wants to though. He wants it more than the logical, necessity based want towards having a valid ID card. His room number is 12, and when he makes his way inside and takes a look at the old, charmingly floral decor, he feels a relief and gratitude that crushes him to the floor. He sits down heavily, and leans his back against the door, pressing his face into his hands. It’s a posture of despair, he knows, and it has the same heaviness to it even though it is something entirely opposite. Hope is just as weighty, just as devastating. 

[krys-loves-otome]

OC Ship Chart!

It's taken me a few days and I'm probably only gonna do these three, but I've finally finished the ship meme Mo (@xxsycamore / @kissmetwicekissmedeadly) created!

Forewarning that I forgot to add in some emoji options and I can never remember MBTI types so I just put idk for all of them as I was too lazy to look them up (nor am I interested in learning them, sorry!).

Picrew for the girlies from here!

-Suitor ages are not confirmed in ikesen (or really in many otome games) so I just gave Mitsunari a ballpark, while also making him the same age as Houki. I think it's cuter that way.

-Sexualities are also not explicitly stated, but you can pry my ace spectrum headcanons for Mitsunari from my cold, dead hands.

-I don't think IkeSen has representative animals, so I just put cat because both of them have had cats as pets at one point or another.

-I am pretty sure that IkeSen does have flowers that represent the suitors, but the only ones I can remember offhand are Hideyoshi (sunflowers), Mitsuhide (bellflowers), and Nobunaga (spider lilies, but not 100% on that one). Daisies was picked at random (and they are in that above cg, so that's why Mitsun gets daisies)

------

-20cm would be about 7-8 inches (Vincent's 5'9 compared to Abby's 5'1)

-Who knows how old the ikevamp suitors are when Comte pulls them into 19th Century Paris, but I have done some light research on the Van Gogh brothers and know that there's roughly four years between Theo and Vincent, so I just did an estimate for Theo's age and added on 4 years. That's my logic and I'm sticking to it.

-For the life of me, I couldn't think of any nicknames Abby would call Vincent. Not that there's anything wrong with that, sometimes the most romantic thing is being called by name in a certain tone that's enough to get someone riled up!

-I see Vincent as not caring much about gender presentation, so long as he can paint the person he likes and they're nice, he's happy with whoever his partner is. I can also see him being at least a lil curious with Shakespeare because of this.

-Same as Mitsunari, I put his representative animal as his pet bc I didn't have any better ideas, lol

-Also can't remember specifically when the first kiss happens in his route, but Vincent's route is fairly smooth sailing in the first three quarters, so I'm putting in towards middle bc I can't remember specifically when they kiss first, so I'm putting it towards the middle as a conservative guess.

-MC didn't really get kidnapped as much in Vincent's route that I can specifically remember (save for the ending where she's time-napped (?), but this reading is fairly accurate.

-Vincent is still learning about his emotions, so allowing himself to experience romantic love is gonna take a while, like all his other emotions. For Abby, she's just got low self-esteem so sometimes doesn't feel like she's worthy of love at first.

-Abby can decently cook, that makes her the more responsible adult in the relationship, lol

-Vincent brushing Leonardo's hand off of Abby's head lives rent-free in my mind and I'll forever feel a certain way about that scene.

-Vincent defies time laws to get back to his true love, so he's rebelling against the system in that way.

----

This is cheating since this was meant for Cybird's IkeSeries games, but it's Miri's birthday in a few days and I just wanted to add her and Lucifer too, and that's reason enough for me!

-Obey Me boys don't have canon heights (yet, as of this posting), but my heart is set on Lucifer being over 6 feet tall (180cm ish), so that's where I'm putting him.

-10M here stands for 10 million years. Luci is a demon (formally an angel) so he's got some eons on him. Very much an old man if there was one, lol

-All Obey Me Suitors are pansexual by default because the MC has no set gender and the suitors will love them no matter their gender presentation because of this. Still waiting on Thirteen to be dateable so that she can flirt with my girlie properly tho.

-The Peacock animal representation is canon. As is a sheep for the MC, as they are often shown with a sheep in their icons in chats.

-Debated back and forth with their representative flowers, esp with Lucifer between roses and spider lilies, and ultimately went with the spider lilies cause I liked the metaphor tied to them better for Luci.

-Lucifer is more than ready to put his loved ones before himself to make sure they are safe and happy, as he's proven time and time again.

-He's also emotionally constipated sometimes, thus why Miri realizes it's love faster than he does, lol.

-Luci is very much the responsible adult as Miri is constantly pulled into shenanigans with his younger brothers.

-Listen, the jealousy thing? He has to fight for Miri's attention between his six brothers, his boss, his boss's butler, his former angel comrades, and her a shady sorcerer. Can't he hold her for just a few moments? Sheesh..

-The whole reason Lucifer is a demon in the first place is because he rebelled against the system in the name of love and Miri would actively fight God because of what Lucifer and the others went through if she could.

-Miri literally wouldn't exist without Lucifer's rebellion. He rebelled to try and save his sister, who was an angel too, but she gets reincarnated as a human who became Miri's ancestor, so… yeah, Miri wouldn't exist if Lucifer hadn't rebelled in the name of love.

[sunberry-strawflower]

#curtissonweek2023

Well, guess who decided to participate in @blue-fanlady's curtisson week??

I stg this first day was sending me to hell and back😭😭I was almost considering not posting it but I might as well haha

It's a meeting in a dream type beat bcz I feel like we don't have enough of those

(Bit of a TW for derealization? They ask the other if they're real a few times so I'm just being safe)

Word count: 1.1k

Curtisson Week Day 1: First Meet

Sven found himself inside of a small, pretty garden. It was night time and the moon was out, high in the sky with stars twinkling above. Flowers of all kinds were surrounding him and a path made of cobblestone led its way to a nice wood bench. Sven looked around and saw all the different kinds of flowers as he walked down the pathway. Tall sunflowers that towered over him and small daisies and poppies he'd have to crouch down to see properly.

The garden was fairly quiet, nothing but the sound of his own footsteps and the night air. Once he got to the bench, he took a seat on it and looked around a bit more. This felt relaxing. Almost freeing. 

One thing he noticed while looking around was a wood shed, not too far away from the bench. It looked like it was fairly old, but it was still in decent shape as long as you were careful to not lean on anything and get a splinter. 

Another thing he noticed was that, outside of the gate leading to the garden and the fence surrounding it, it was just a black void. No lights, no trees, no grass, not even the night sky to be found out there. Just pitch black. It felt like this garden was the only thing present. He was the only person present here. 

He was so lost in his own thoughts, he didn't notice another person approach him and take a seat on the bench next to him. He instinctively turned into this person's direction and jumped a little bit. Guess he wasn't the only person here after all… 

This person looked like a guy around his age, he had a tophat on with headphones that seemed to be an orange-ish sesame color ripping through it. 

Sven found himself staring at him in wonder. How did he get here? Is he even human? Is this some kind of figment of his imagination? 

The other turned to look in his direction. He seemed to have caught Sven staring. "Uhm…"

Sven jumped again and tried to stutter out something. "Oh! Uh, I wasn't..well, I didn't mean to uhh, stare. Sorry."

The other just shrugged. "It's fine."

Well, seems like the pretty atmosphere was a little ruined because all of Sven's thoughts shifted to the guy next to him. He had just about a million questions jogging through his head. 

Who is this guy? Is he a figment of his imagination? Can figments of your imagination talk? Is this a dream? Is he dreaming? Has he seen this person before? 

Sven started to wonder if he should talk to this person or not. He didn't want the silence to become awkward (or at least, more awkward than it's already become) and it feels like the longer he stays quiet, the more confused he feels. 

Sven glanced back at the person next to him and decided to ask him the question he's been wondering about the most. 

"Who are you?"

The other turned to look at him. "Hm? Oh, I'm Burt," he replied. "You are?"

"Sven." he answers, still looking at the other curiously. He was about to drop another question before Burt started to speak again. 

"Well, nice to meet you?" He said, awkwardly. 

"Why'd you end that like it was a question?" Sven asked. 

"I dunno. I'm confused, I guess."

Sven tilted his head. "About what?"

"You ask a lot of questions." Burt deadpanned. 

"Hey!" Sven looked almost offended. "I only asked three! I'm just trying to make an effort to understand what's going on here."

Burt shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry." 

Sven couldn't tell whether that apology was genuine or not, but he decided not to question it this time and sighed. 

They both sat in a silence that was a little less awkward than before. Still though, Sven couldn't help but continue to wonder about this Burt guy. 

Sven leaned closer to the other and started to lightly poke his arm. 'My finger isn't going through him.' 

He poked a little more before Burt glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" 

Sven looked up at him. "Are you real?" He asked suddenly. 

Burt seemed a little confused by the question. "Are you?"

"What kind of question is that?? Of course I am."

"Really?" Burt wondered and started to poke Sven teasingly.

Sven pushed his hand away. "Hey, stop! Yes I am."

Burt obliged and stopped with the poking, leaving them sitting in silence once more. 

"I guess I'm not dreaming then?" Burt mumbled to himself. 

Sven heard it and tilted his head. "Dreaming? You?"

Burt nodded. "It feels like I'm dreaming, but since we can touch each other, maybe I'm not."

Sven hummed. "I can touch things in my dreams, though. Wasn't it pinching that woke you up not poking?"

"Hm…maybe it was. I can't remember."

Sven started to think about what Burt said. Dreaming…well that explains the dreamy setting and the random dude he doesn't know at all yet looks familiar. He does feel a bit like he's dreaming. 

"Now I'm tempted to pinch myself." Sven said. "I feel like I'm dreaming too."

Burt glanced at Sven. "Do you think we're sharing dreams?"

Sven shook his head. "No way! I'm convinced you're a figment of my imagination."

"Well I feel the same about you then." Burt said. 

"Fine." Sven crossed his arms and looked outside of the garden. Silence befall them for a few minutes more. 

"What if we pinched ourselves at the same time?" Burt suggested. 

"Then we'd both wake up at the same time?" Sven questioned. 

Burt nodded. 

Sven was quiet for a few seconds. 

"Alright, fine."

Burt nodded and held two fingers over his arm, hovering over his skin ever so slightly. Sven did the same. 

"Alright, on the count of three." Burt said. 

"One." Burt initiated the countdown. 

"Two." He continued

"Wait!" Sven interrupted him. 

"What?" Burt glanced up at Sven. 

"On three or after?"

Burt hummed in thought. "After."

Sven nodded. "Alright, sorry. Let's restart."

Burt nodded back in response. 

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

Sven pinched his skin and everything went black. 

---------

Sven's eyelids fluttered open, the sun blinding him for a second. Once he adjusted his eyes to the light, he sat up. He was still in his bed, under the covers and in his pajamas. Once his mind woke up a little more, he started to recall the dream he just had. 

He was in a garden…and it was dark out. It was quiet and nice, save for one thing. What was it? A person? Some guy and…was it a tophat he had on or headphones? 

The dream was fairly vivid for someone who doesn't usually remember their dreams well. That was probably the most he's ever remembered from a dream.

He felt a small but noticeable stinging type pain in his left arm. He instinctively moved his hand over to rub over it, hoping to soothe the pain a little. 

What was that about? 

[pretttydemonwrites]

19, 21, 22, 23, & 28 for all your tabletop-originated characters (or at least your faves)!

OUGH. That's hard because actually I don't have that many characters that originated as tabletop characters! I think it'll be Racquel and Charlie for this set!

19. sleeping position?

Racquel - full starfish, absolutely just spread out across whatever surface zir sleeping on. a real nightmare to share a bed with to be honest, cuz what inevitably happens is zir just fulling laying on top of the other person. Charlie - instinctively curls up because he is always cold, and also runs into that issue of "blanket/bed is too fuckin short for him long legs" and he needs to be completely covered from the neck down in order to sleep 21. obsession from childhood? Racquel - this might feel a bit sad but like, having a family? not like, having kids (thought ze does end up with at least one pseudo adopted child) but just having those kind of connections? growing up not really knowing your parents at all will kinda mess your shit up so ze has spent on a long time trying to find people to care about and for those people to care about zem in turn.

on a less serious note: archery

Charlie - he has always been really into sunflowers??? hey idk where this came from, this just popped into my head unbidden. but he loves the way they follow the sunshine, and he loves how tall they get, how sturdy they are, how BIG, and he loves sunflower seeds (he hates eating them around people though because having to spit out the shells is so embarrassing)

More below the cut!

22. role model?

Racquel - ze was raised by an elf named Silas, who took Racquel in and taught zem pretty much...everything? closest thing to a father figure ze had and he kind of maintained a sort of distance between them for reasons Racquel never really understood, but it didn't stop Racquel from being in awe of his skills. he was a powerful cleric but his experience in adventuring and travel meant that he was able to teach them survival skills, which lead to zem becoming more of a ranger. cool guy, shame he got murdered.

Charlie - probably his older sister Aine (awn-yah)! he's the second oldest of his four siblings, and Aine and him are just under two years apart, so they're pretty close. she was the one who helped him channel his magic into his natural stimming and came up with the idea of adding the rings to then help focus that magic a bit more. things still go haywire a bit, but Aine's patience helped him have confidence in himself so he messes up a lot less than he used to and he's very grateful to her for that.

23. strange habits?

Racquel - man, the only things I can think of right now are zir tendency to steal baked goods (happened frequently when zir party was posted up in a literal palace) and zir habit of basically only wearing half zir shirt, but that's because one side of zir torso being covered in scar tissue gives zem a lot of sensory issues so ze hates having anything touching it too much.

Charlie - well, other than various stimmy things I think Charlie is just a nervous babbler. he can say so many words without actually saying anything at all because he is so nervous all the time!

28. five songs to describe them

God we were cruising right along until I got to this one. i sUCK at picking songs for my OCs, so I will try and come back to this one later I think general vibes for Racquel is Arctic Monkeys meets indie queer artists talking about gender in increasingly esoteric ways. For Charlie, take like, indie girl with an acoustic guitar and then sprinkle in a dash or two of like Irish folk music. ...Yeah.

[bonky-bornes]

first & last line tag game

I feel so popular being tagged by both @sparkagrace and @dontcallmebree. 

Rules: Post the (first and) final line of your 10 most recently published fics. (Or as many as you have published.) You can either omit multi-chapter WIPS or include the last line of your most recent chapter (or several chapters). Up to you! 

On the Other Side of the Door 

First: Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Steve’s studio, bringing in the warmth the icy streets of New York sorely missed. 

Last:Together, they opened the door. 

Latke Love

First: The house had been humming in silence for the past few hours, the only thing to break the quiet the gentle clack of the keyboard as Steve typed away.

Last: Bucky elbowed him.

Labyrinth of my Mind

First: The worst part about it was that Bucky had told Steve he wouldn’t make it back in time when they’d spoken on the phone earlier that week.

Last: he snow continued to fall. 

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) 

First: They hadn’t always been able to hear each other’s heartbeats in the back of their minds, but it didn’t take long until they’d forgotten.

Last: Safe. 

So you are to me 

First: “You look like you could use this.” 

Last: The kiss was just as soft as he'd imagined.

Call it Dreaming (you can have my love)

First: Bucky found him in the garden, sitting under the flowered arch with a sunflower in his hands.

Last: He was.

Home is Where the Dreams Are

First: Steve watched, half-hidden behind his mug of coffee, as his husband bustled about the kitchen preparing lunches for Charlie and Becca.

Last: Steve closed his eyes, not caring about the movie, happy to be with his family, because in the end, nothing else really mattered. 

Portland, Maine 

First: It was a mutual separation, if there was such a thing.

Last: And there was a knock on the door. 

To Have a Home

First: It was past midnight when Steve finally walked out of the meeting, eyes burning with exhaustion, stomach aching with hunger, and nerves shot.

Last: Steve didn’t go into work the next day. If the world wanted to explode, it could wait. 

I’ll Cover You (with a thousand sweet kisses) 

First: “Okay, that’s it,” Bucky said, coming into the living room with his arms crossed. “No more boxes today.” 

Last: (Bucky was better.) 

Okay, I’m realizing how much of my life has been dominated by my College!Verse. Not that I’m complaining. Those boys own my life and my soul. 

no pressure tagging: @turtle-steverogers @musette22 @dreamsinthewitchouse

[andaniellight]

I posted 5,632 times in 2022

That's 2,048 more posts than 2021!

170 posts created (3%)

5,462 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

centimetri

sapphoaloy

broosepayne

elisamaza

archadianskies

I tagged 4,693 of my posts in 2022

Only 17% of my posts had no tags

#marvel - 569 posts

#dc - 540 posts

#art - 418 posts

#daredevil - 411 posts

#batman - 349 posts

#video - 311 posts

#batfamily - 298 posts

#the punisher - 242 posts

#quotes - 197 posts

#cat - 183 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#the potential of frank doing the dance in the middle of blizard with max after finding crates of coffee just like that one particular video

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Just finished S2 of The Punisher, and I gotta say... I miss these bantering bitches

529 notes - Posted January 14, 2022

#4

something something the devil kisses your eyes and repents something

706 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

#3

[SCRAMBLING FOR MIC FOAMING AT THE MOUTH VISIBLY VIBRATING]

[FORCIBLY GETS DRAGGED OUT SCREAMING KICKING MUFFLED YELLING]

761 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

#2

So what if we don't look the same? We been going through the same pain, You are, you are My chosen, chosen family

1,343 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I don’t know about you but i know i’m seriously fucked when i see characters interacting and they hit jackpot of almost every, if not all, kinds of dynamics where:

“i have strong feelings toward you but i know once i am able to touch and hold you i won’t know what i should do with these hands when you’re away”

the sun and the moon

the moon and the sea

the sun and the well-loved, dying sunflower

“i’d do anything for you” | “then live for me / live with me”

“i’d kill/die for you. say the word and i’ll do it in a heartbeat” | “no”

“i don’t know where else to go to” | (visibly angry) “who did this to you?”

[in life or death situation] “are you okay? are you hurt?” | “i should be the one asking you that! you’re the one who took the fall for me / who’s bleeding to protect me!”

Basically the all-powerful and capable, and their absolute weakness (still in denial sometimes)

the “what you did is very wrong but everyone deserves a second chance” and the “you’re lucky i took an oath to them (specifically) to not end you / make your life a living nightmare”

“please hesitate” | “i won’t hesitate ever”

the "i am not asking for your permission, don’t come with me” self-sacrificing and reckless dumbass, and their “someone has to watch your back while you’re being stupid. someone more clever and probably in the brink of having a heart attack the moment you take step out there: me”

“everyone looks up to them” | “hard not to when they’re that tall/big tbh”

the brat and the brat-tamer who probably has stiff joints and is grumpy or calmer than the brat most the time

2,541 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[boneheadboner]

AS PER MY LAST POST

(Said last post)

I know what you're here for. You're here for them specific Magic flavors. Well I've actually thought some up! And I'm gonna spill them beans.

Starting from the top? We have Red! Red's magic has a bit of a crackling, popping sensation, with a slight fizz, befitting of the barely contained firecracker of a monster. Barely sour at the very start, but very sweet once you get past that. A faint reminisce of sour cherry poprocks found, along with warm fuzzy soda, and the warmth and joy of experiencing something in safety.

Essentially, the sweetness of cherry winds up being the most tactful 'flavor' that can be discerned.

Now for Baggs! Baggs' magic has a light, and airy sensation. A lazy cloud to rest upon, and feel comforted by. Fluff and fuzz that hazes the mind, but in a welcoming way. A sweetness that only concerns you at first, the mere thought of it being unhealthy done away, at the first taste of that sweetness upon your tongue, as it melts and leaves you wanting more.

Baggs is someone who likely has a lot of control in the department of what he's letting out. Which makes it completely ironic that his flavor and magic's feeling is akin to something he's never actually tasted; Cotton Candy.

Now onto Dirge (My bbyyyyyyyyy)

Dirge's magic has a bit of a low, down to earth feeling. A damp, but exciting forest full of foliage. Yours to roam, yours to explore. Feelings of furs to keep warm in the darkness, and excitement at the prospect of making a nest. Tart berries harvested from prickly seeming bushes. Warmth and excitement, intoxicating excitement upon feeling fed. A desire to gather, to feed, to protect is potent. Blackberries perfectly reflect the sort of wild and free animalistic nature Dirge has.

And last but not least for now, Sonia! (Normal Magic, DESPAIR gets it's own flavor later.) Despite not naturally making her own, Sonia can utilize some magic, by either consuming monster food/seed, or being in an area with high levels of ambient magic. And yes, she's learned to create... Appendages with it.

Sonia's magic is soothing, warmth. A cool breeze on a hot summer day. A moment of resting beneath the boughs of a tree to get shelter from the sun. Watching the wind blow through the grass and along sunflowers standing tall. The soft sweetness of chilled melons with so much juice, it trickles down your chin. Gentle respite, and peace.

Yeap, Sonia's magic flavor is melons. So many jokes can indeed be made about this. LMAO

THERE WE GO, THANKS FOR READING THIS FAR!!! QwQ 💚💚💚💚

[set-forth-a-dream]

Flower Boy

Posted this on my Wattpad but decided I’d like to have it here too. Dedicated to a long time friend of mine.

-Summery: When Izuku Midoriya was a boy looked out into an open grassy lot and dreamed of what it could be. Then one day a bunch of construction changed everything.

_______________________________________

When I was a young boy a florist shop opened up across the street from my apartment. I remembered the construction of the once open grass-filled lot between buildings and feeling a little mad about it. It was a nice spot of green getting sun in the mornings till the afternoon despite it being next to two buildings. As a child, I had thought it had so much potential to be a small park or community garden, or just grow some trees for fresh air. When the construction cleared away all the green grass replacing it with chalky white cement and wood I shook my head and felt a bit sad. And the work was loud, the hammering, drills, and noisy trucks pulling in and out of the place made it so hard to watch cartoons or concentrate on homework. I thought ‘This had better be a toy store at the very least!’

Finally, a structure stood in the place of the former green lot, with large windows out front framed in white. Just a boring old business building I sighed. I could tell because the man that started moving boxes in was a tall, sickly thin, older man. He was kind of creepy. His frame looked like a skeleton with wild wiry blond hair that looked like he got electrocuted and it jetted out in every direction except for the long floppy bangs that framed his long thin face. His eyes were sunken and shrouded in a shadow and though he didn’t have any eyebrows the muscles where they ought to be were scrunched downward. His sunken in cheeks completed the old man’s scowl making it clear he did not like anyone or anything! I wasn’t sure what kind of business it was going to be with a guy like that around but it was one I would have no interest in.

I put it out of my mind. I stopped looking over at the building when I passed by. Kept my eyes on the clouds or sky when I came home. My imagination had no grassy green lot to fill with future dreams, I was caged in by buildings of the same color, roads that took me to the same places, and someday I would fall in line with the rest of the people who work for all these cookie cutter businesses. Heavy thoughts for a kid only in the third grade.

One day my mom picked me up from school as she usually did. I asked for ice cream as we passed the truck that always waited around the corner from the school. Like usual she told me ‘Not today Izuku.’ We passed the dog park, a grocery store, and the same woman I saw watering her lawn every single day. Then my mother stopped before we reached our apartment building and pointed across the street.

“Look at all those flowers, how pretty!”

My head came up from the pebble I had kicked down the road to the building across the street, with baskets of green plants hanging outside, tiers of potted colorful flowers, and more of them surrounding the inside of the shop. There was a bright banner at the top that read ‘Grand Opening!!’ The other sign plated to the building said ‘Yagi’s Flowers & Green House.’

There were already a few people going in the door with cautious curiosity. Rightfully so, I remembered that mean scary-looking man that had been there before. Perhaps it was some kind of trap! However, I began to realize that those who came out of the store all had big smiles and held a thick green stalk with a large yellow sunflower.

“Let’s go check it out Izuku!” Mom held my hand as she pulled me across the street. We entered in the shop to be surrounded by flowers from wall to wall! The sweet floral smell surrounded us as we walked further in. There weren’t only flowers but green plants of all kinds, some that draped, swayed, crawled, and climbed. From light feathery leaves to thick water-retaining spiked stems. It was then I noticed that I was smiling, my eyes darting around the colorful indoor meadow with wonder. Just how many plants could you fit in such a place?! And what all was here?! I looked up at my mother and saw her smiling too. A real smile as she looked thoughtfully at some of the plants in their baskets. Just as I was beginning to reconsider my thought of the scary old man staying here we heard a man’s voice greet us from behind. Quickly spinning around I saw him, up close for the first time. His eyes were an eerie light blue in the shadows of his eyes. His wild hair was dry and frizzy his bangs splintering in a chaotic direction at the ends. He was still hunched over some but it was clear he was much taller than the average man. He wore a light blue shirt and a pastel yellow apron.

I took cover behind my mom’s skirt as she turned to face him. They greeted each other and began talking about the plants around the shop. Which one would do good in certain lighting and temperature of the house? Apparently, Mom had been wanting a plant or two to brighten up our apartment. She picked out a Chinese Evergreen and a Split-leaf Philodendron. He said both of them are perfect for beginner plant parents and do well in rooms that might only have fluorescent light.

While they talked some more I saw something move in the fanned leaves of a Japanese palm. I let my curiosity lead me closer carefully moving the palms until a deep purr rumbled through the leaves and a cat leaped out at me! I squealed tumbling back from being startled. It caught the shop owner’s and my mother's attention as they both held another plant together.

“S-sorry!” I scrambled up to my feet to bow, “There’s a cat! It scared me.” As if it were trying to apologize for the fright the cat came back with slick shiny black fur and rubbed itself against my legs.

“Oh.” The skeleton man’s brows were softer, not stitched together in his scowl like before. There was a soft smile and his darkened eyes looked less scary, just tired. “That’s my cat, Tri. I named her that because she only has three legs.”

Looking closer at the snuggling feline I counted her legs: 1, 2, 3… She did only have three legs!! She had a rounded nub on her back flank where her left leg should be.

“What happened to her other one?” I asked reaching down to pet the cat’s fluffy tail.

“I’m not sure.” He shook his head, “I rescued her from the city pound on her last day. She was already three-legged when they picked her up. She could have been born that way.” As he told her story the cat trotted up to him and rubbed her head against his pant leg and then my moms causing them to both smile.

“Sorry about the scare young man. She loves to play hide and seek in the bushes and never wants to be anywhere without me. That’s why I have to keep the Lillies so high.”

“The Lillies?” I asked looking around.

“Yes. Lillies and some other plants are poisonous to cats if they eat them. So far Tri just ducks in and out of the plants but I don’t want to take any chances. Any of the plants that are bad for her are up in places she can’t jump and climb, or in the one room she can’t go into.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t realized all these beautiful-looking and sweet-smelling flowers had the potential to take something's life or make them very sick. How their bright beauty deceived their victims.

After a while longer Mother was ready to purchase her plants and we met the man again at the counter. Tri was sitting on the counter licking her paw and rubbing it behind her ear.

“Everyone who came in gets a free Sunflower.” The man picked out two of the large Sunflower stalks from the large vase filled with water on the counter beside him handing one to my mother and one to me. The flower actually had some weight to it, and the petals were silky soft. I was overjoyed to be given a flower of my own! I never received a flower before. I picked them for my mom and kindergarten teacher once, but never have someone given me one. It was as exciting as being given a free toy! And the new plants mom carried out with care instructions felt like getting a new pet!!

“Mr.Yagi is such a sweet man.” Mom said setting up the plants in the living room.

“The old guy?” I asked from behind my flower. She laughed ruffling my hair but nodded her head.

“He is nice.” I agreed. His tone didn’t come off as gruff or harsh and snappy. Nor did he act like he had a short temper ready to yell at any little thing that went wrong. But he sure looked like it… “Why does he look so…” I tried to place my wording right. He wasn’t exactly ugly. “…scary?” For lack of better words, it was all I could describe him as. “He’s too tall, too skinny, and his eyes are dark.”

She smiled petting my head and took my flower to join hers in a pitcher of water for a makeshift vase on the table. “He does look very different from other people, doesn’t he? But you never know what he might have gone through in his life. Like the three-legged cat, no one knows how she lost her leg; but it is best to treat her with kindness even if she doesn’t look like the rest of the cats. Right?”

“Yeah!” I nodded watching the flowers in their new home. I watched them throughout dinner. And when it was time for bed I saw the flower shop from outside my window and Mr. Yagi’s tall figure walking out with an over-the-shoulder carrying kennel for his cat. He’d taken in the display of flowers from the front but I could still make out the vines and blooms in the window.

The next morning when I woke up I had looked at the shop again and Mr.Yagi was already working on the outside display. He didn’t look as scary as I thought he did. His hair reminded me of the big frill of a sunflower's petals.

After a few weeks, our sunflowers began to wither and wilt.

“Mom! They’re dying…” I picked at the sunflower’s middle breaking away in dry beads.

“Do you like having flowers at the table?” She asked with a smile changing the old water in the pitcher.

“Yes. They’re pretty and make you smile. I like it when you smile Mom.”

She covered her mouth touching a hand over her chest for a moment before taking me in a hug. That day we went back to the flower shop and Mom bought a vase and some flowers to go in it.

“The flowers you gave us are dying.” I told Mr.Yagi as I stood next to my mom, “Are they not getting enough sun?”

“No.” He smiled shaking his head, “That’s just what flowers do over time. But when they start to dry up they give you their seeds, and you make a lot more flowers with them!”

“I can grow them?” I don’t know why the thought never dawned on me before. Of course, I knew what a plant needed to live and grow. But I never thought that I could just ‘do it’! For some reason, I thought there were more skills needed, specialty items, and complicated steps.

“Of course you can young man! Sunflowers are easy to grow, if you’d like to try I think I have something for you.”

“Yeah!” I nodded and looked up at my mom, “Can I?!”

She laughed nodding as well, “Yes of course.”

Mr. Yagi disappeared behind a door for a moment and came back with a plastic tray. He handed it down to me so I could look at it closer. It had several brown disks inside the package that read ‘mini greenhouse starter kit.’ He kneeled taking the package to explain.

��Water these little disks and they’ll puff up nice and big. Then put your seeds in them and cover them with the lid. Set them in a sunny window and you’ll see little sprouts in no time.”

“Wow! Will they get big like the ones you gave us?”

“Well if you want them that big, you’ll have to plant them in the ground.” He explained, “But they’ll still grow very tall and give off a lot of flowers. Still wanna give it a shot?”

“Mhm!” I nodded so fast I lost my balance. When my mom asked how much it would cost Mr.Yagi said it was a gift and we didn’t have to pay anything!

I got to work on the seeds as soon as I got home. They sat on the balcony where they got the most sun. Every morning I would check on them and call across the street to say good morning to Mr.Yagi as he set up the outside flower display. Mom has talked to him while passing by too. Anytime they are outside at the same time they would smile and wave to each other. We all quickly became friends.

“How are your seedlings doing young man?” Mr.Yagi called from across the street when he saw me out to check on them in the morning. Glancing down I saw sprouts just poking out from the dirt. I did it!

“They’re growing!! I did it!! They’re growing!” I called jumping up and down. For the first time, I heard Mr.Yagi laugh. It was a deep outward chuckle, if he were in a manga the ‘HA! HA! HA!’ expressions would be spelled out around him as he tossed his head back in laughter. I had to tell my mom about my sprouts and see if she’d laugh as well. She was so happy she started to cry telling me I can grow flowers for her now and will always make her smile when she sees them.

That’s probably when I decided when I grew up I wanted to be just like Mr.Yagi. Own a flower shop of my own and give people joy whenever they took home a flower. Mr.Yagi became my hero. Needless to say the kids at school thought I was weird for wanting to grow and sell flowers for a living. It wasn’t flashy or cool like a Police Officer or Fire Fighter nor adventurous and wild like an explorer or scuba diver. But it didn’t matter. I saw firsthand the power of Earth’s natural beauty. When given love and attention it spreads your efforts like seeds in the wind, as if the flower was portraying its gratitude to you through the emotions of those who see them and smile. But my friends just called me an old lady.

One day my mother had to stay late for work. I knew how to walk home on my own. But Mom didn’t want me alone at the house. She said that she’d talked to Mr.Yagi and he said it was fine if I stayed with him at the shop until she came back. I was so excited!! I ran all the way there. Mr.Yagi was waiting for me outside with Tri sitting at his feet. We went in and he asked me how school was and how my grades are. Then he asked if I liked fruit.

“Come to the back with me.” He smiled heading to the door he’d gone to before to get my starter kit. “Tri, be a good kitty and stay.” He looked over his shoulder making sure I was close by and the cat stayed back. When we got to the back it was so spacious with rows of bushes and trees!

“My tangerines are ripe and there are so many blueberries I don’t know what to do with them.” He placed a hand on his hip looking out to the full bushes packed with plump dark berries on its vines.

“I can have some?” I explored the different bushes and trees checking the little tags around them. Tomatoes, strawberries, blackberries, raspberries!

“Please! Take some off my hands.” He went over to a small desk station and pulled out a shopping bag. “Take as much as you and your mother can handle.”

I picked bunches of berries, I might have gotten a little carried away.

“I hope your mom knows a good recipe for all those berries!” Mr.Yagi laughed again. It was such a nice laugh, if it wasn’t enough to make you laugh as well it would defiantly make you smile. How cool would it be to make something with what you’ve grown!!? I’d beg my mom to make a pie or anything with the fruit I picked when she came to pick me up after work.

“How much do I owe you for everything?” Mom was looking tired and worried when she saw my bag of harvest.

“Nonsense.” Mr.Yagi stopped her from flipping through her wallet. His hands were so big compared to my mother's. “Your son brightens my day. I’d gladly watch him for you anytime no charge. And the fruit is a gift as well. I hope you enjoy them.”

The next day Mom did make a pie with the blueberries I picked from Mr. Yagi’s garden. She sent me over to the shop to give him half. He was so delighted the smile never left his face while I was there. As the months went on I started going over to the shop more sometimes after school, sometimes after I got my homework done. I asked so many questions about the different plants, what they were used for, different growing methods, and seasons of harvest. I even told Mr.Yagi that I wanted to be like him and have my own flower shop and grow plants too.

Within that time Mr.Yagi allowed me to help out around the shop assisting customers in finding what they were looking for, arranging the displays, and pruning or watering the plants. One evening a customer came in, unlike the rest. She bowed her head and dragged her feet while her eyes glossy with tears skimmed over the flowers.

“Hi ma’am” I walked up to her, “Can I help you find something particular?”

“You work here?” She asked trying to hold back her tears. “You’re just a little boy.”

“My friend lets me help out and my mom is at work late tonight. I’m in the fourth grade now so I’m old enough to handle it.” I said proudly. But her smile didn’t last.

“Your friend?”

“Mr.Yagi. He owns the shop. Are you okay miss?”

“Well, I need some flowers, some special flowers. Because… my mother just.. just died.” She couldn’t hold back the tears now and started crying. I was in shock, to say the least. All this time people have been coming in and buying flowers with smiles. ‘For my wife or girlfriend. For my wedding. For myself.’ But the loss of someone had been my first time. I quickly ran and searched for Mr.Yagi, finding him among the marigolds. I hurriedly explained the situation and he put a hand on my shoulder telling me to keep calm. I watched as he found the woman comforting her with gentle words in a soft voice telling her he’d take care of the flowers for her. I stood by the counter feeling so helpless. She was so sad. Her mother was gone. I could only imagine how scared and alone she must have felt and lost too. I would feel that way because I feel it when I lose my mother at the grocery store. Which only happened once when I was younger.

Mr.Yagi put an arrangement of flowers together while she cleared her eyes and Tri purred rubbing herself against her legs.

“Mr.Yagi” I tugged at his pastel yellow apron while he worked, “Can she have a free sunflower?”

“That would be nice. But my flowers have all gone dormant until next season.” He answered.

“Mine! Mine are blooming at home! I’ll be back!!”

“Be careful!! Look both ways before crossing!!” Mr.Yagi called as I ran out of the shop. The street was clear and I hurriedly jogged across and ran to the kitchen grabbing the scissors to make a clean snip at the bloomed stalks of sunflowers. I came back finding the woman paying for the flowers.

I don’t know why but I was a little nervous when I went to approach her the second time. Maybe it was because I was not a professional at growing things. My sunflower stem was thin and fuzzy and the flower was small but the best of the flowers on its stock.

“Here young lady.” I offered her the flower, “I think you need a flower for yourself today. Free of charge of course. It’s a gift.”

The sad woman looked at the flower and back at me then she smiled. It was soft and sadness still hung in her eyes but she took the flower in her free hand thanking me.

“You and your father are so sweet and made my day better. Thank you.” She walked out leaving Mr.Yagi and me stunned. Did she know my father? I hadn’t seen him at all. Just in a picture, my Mom had kept in an old photo album. Did she honestly think Mr.Yagi was my dad?!

Sure he looked after me when my mom was away, gave me snacks after school, taught me things about the plants, and I truly looked up to him. I guess he had become sort of a father figure to me.

“Mr.Yagi, do you have a wife or children?” I asked a little while after the realization of our relationship dynamic.

“No.” He shook his head offering me a juice pouch.

“Why?” I took the juice poking the straw through the hole.

“I guess I never put my efforts into finding a partner or having kids. I was busy doing other things.”

“… Like what?” I didn’t know anything about Mr.Yagi aside from his job here at the shop.

“I traveled a lot because I was a part of the special forces team.”

“Like the military?”

“Yeah, kinda.” He nodded. “Because I was never in one spot for long I didn’t make any personal attachments. Sometimes even friends were hard to keep.”

I took a moment to look at him again. His thin bony frame didn’t look like someone in the military. My confusion must have been clear on my face and Mr. Yagi gave a soft smile.

“The doctors told me I could finally retire.” He left the explanation vague. I didn’t understand it at the time…

During the start of middle school, I was officially working part-time at the shop. Mr. Yagi had a lot of errands outside work and had me run things after school and on my days off. Mom was very proud, I learned a lot about growing natural tea leaves and growing fruits in seasons. Mom invited Mr.Yagi over often, she’d make food from the things we grew together. We were all so happy. Like a family.

When I was in high school and summer started Mr. Yagi gave me a full-time position and business had been great. Weddings were popular and would often buy out our entire stock. My English and Math teacher stopped in to buy a present for their friends who were getting married. They said the four of them were friends since high school. My math teacher Mr. Aizawa made quick friends with Tri saying he also has a cat at home.

A redhead man usually came in every other week looking beside himself while browsing the flowers and finding the Amaryllis. His brows were intense with blue eyes glaring underneath them while his bottom lip seemed to be pulled in a permanent frown. I never kept much conversation with him but decided to ask why he always bought the blue Amaryllis.

“They’re for my wife.” He answered almost sadly setting the small bundle of flowers on the counter.

“Oh.” I answered back starting to tap on the register, “Would you like a note to go with them? It’ll be free.”

He shook his head, “I’m afraid she never takes any of my letters. Just the flowers. They’re her favorite.” He shook his head at my offer of the note card.

“Ah, I see.” But I still had no idea what occasion the flowers were for. He always seemed sad while coming to buy them and my eyes absentmindedly drifted past the counter and across the street to see my Sunflowers in the window. “In the Victorian language of flowers,” I continued while wrapping a decorative tissue paper around the stems, “one would gift Amaryllis to show recognition of a strong and confidant woman. The lighter colors though are more of a mourning for a loved one…” A red bow tied the paper and stems together. “The more popular color of these are the red and white ones, which have a fascinating mythical origin.” I pushed the flowers forward rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh, but I’m just gonna talk your ear off at this point. Heh, sorry. I hope your wife enjoys the flowers.”

The man took the blooms from the counter inspecting the petals before a small and quick smile lifted the corner of his mouth, “I didn’t know that, but it suits her well. Thank you, young man. Maybe next time you can tell me that story. Keep the change.” He left his money on the counter with a nod and walked out.

A childhood friend came by one day. It was mid-afternoon when the bell rang as he swung it open returning his hands to his pockets while a friend from class stood by his side.

“Your mom always asks you to buy flowers on the hottest days?” Katsuki asked irritably fanning himself with a hand as he walked in.

“No!” Ejiro Kirishima laughed wiping his forehead, “But she did today! Sometimes it’s just nice to have flowers in the house y’know? Brightens up the room.”

“Whatever. Seems like a waste of money to me. Buy them to slowly watch them die in a nasty pot of water? No thanks.”

I got up my nerve to wave at my two classmates while I watered a few plants by the window. “Kacchan! Kirishima! Hi!”

“Yo! Midoriya what are you doing here!” Kirishima waved back running over excitedly.

I stood there with my chest puffed out in pride, “I work here!”

“You have a job!? No way! That’s so cool!” Kirishima rose his brows. Kacchan didn’t look amused at all though. He was always rather blunt and unenthusiastic about anything I did.

“You work at this lame-ass flower shop? Yeah, it suits you.”

“Bakubro-“ Kirishima interjected but I reeked back with a smile.

“I’m taking that as a compliment. Since working here I’ve been able to see a quick window into other people's lives and help them. When they leave they almost always have a smile or feel better than before they came in. So yes, it does suit me.”

“Whatever.” Kacchan rolled his eyes, “Hurry up and pick your stupid flowers so we can get out of this pollen trap.” I’ve never known Kacchan to be allergic to anything.

“Huh, are you really allergic to pollen Bakugou?” Kirishima seemed concerned.

“If I say yes will it make this go faster?”

“Aw come on” Kirishima sighed, “At least the place has AC. And look; a cat! Whoa with three legs!”

I smiled as Tri rubbed herself against Kacchan’s ankle immediately distracting him from being grumpy while waiting. “Is there anything I can help you find Kirishima?”

Kirishima pulled me aside and whispered next to me, “What do you think Bakugou would like?”

“You want to get something for Kacchan?” So it was a surprise gift and right in front of him! Kirishima was so clever! Though I wasn’t too sure if Kacchan was much of a plant parent. But since I overheard he thought flowers slowly dying was pointless my mind went to the small saplings or planted sprouts we kept in stock. After both of us took a long while to carefully decide what would make the perfect gift for Kacchan it was already evening. Mr. Yagi had arranged several mini gardens in some bowls and planted succulents of various greens and reds where there was more space he’d set up fairy furniture. With minimal attention and mostly no mess Kirishima decided on a garden that had a small house among the succulent ‘forest’ with a little bench sitting outside.

“One more thing,” He whispered checking over his shoulder to make sure Kacchan was still occupied by the cat. “Could I get a rose- a white one?” His cheeks went a little red with a smile.

I smiled back nodding, “A white rose huh, that’s a bold move.”

“Only the men who are willing to make bold moves get what they want.” His smile widened showing a fist pump. “But, heh if anything it’s just a good gesture to a friend. Right?”

“Oh, he’ll like it.” I nodded while ringing up the mini garden and pulling a white rose from one of the larger bouquets just in time for Bakugou to walk up rubbing one of his eyes while yawning.

“You finally got somethin’? You’re as bad at making floral decisions as you are ordering food.” He ran a hand through his hair, “I even took a nap.”

“Yeah well,” Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck, “I want things to be perfect y’know?”

I handed over the rose and garden with a wink. “Come back anytime!”

“No thanks, Nerd.” Kacchan crossed his arms, “Unless it’s for the cat. How’d it get three legs?”

I shrugged, “Mr. Yagi; the shop owner here, rescued her from a shelter but she came to them that way already. No one knows what happened.”

“Huh. Well, it doesn’t stop her from anything.” He looked back at the still-sleeping cat on the floor. “Anyway, let’s get outta here. I’m hungry.”

They both left the shop and I stood by the counter watching them as they paused just outside the see-through glass door. Their conversation was muffled now but I heard Kirishima present his gifts to Kacchan. The blond tried to fight back the smile so hard but it only made his face get red.

“You idiot.” Kacchan finally let the smile win and took the rose and mini garden.

“You like ‘em?” Kirishima asked fidgeting excitedly.

“Yeah, it’s cute. Thanks.”

On the final day of Summer, Mr.Yagi and I were working together, arranging a few of the newly potted plants by the window and checking the soil’s moisture in other pots. We were just talking about the last few customers I had while working shifts alone when a group of people stopped by the shop and began to tip over plants outside.

“Hey!” I yelled from within the building, “Stop that!!!” But the group seemed only spurred on by my panic and began picking up and throwing the pots.

“Young Midoriya! Don’t-“ Mr. Yagi reached out only to miss grabbing my arm. I ran outside quickly with nothing but a plant hook; used to pick up plants on the top shelves. I’m not sure why I brought a weapon with me. I wouldn’t know how to use it and it seemed the guys knew that. It was snatched from my hands after I made a clumsy swipe at the air to hopefully shoo them away. It was raised above their heads and I braced for impact as I heard the wind whip with the speed at which they swung it. But the painful smack never came, instead, it hit something else. When I opened my eyes again Mr. Yagi was outside, the pole retrieved and being used as a proper beating stick as he fought back the thugs. He moved quickly and gracefully for his age and smacked each of the thugs hard enough that they wobbled back to their feet and tripped over each other running away.

Mr. Yagi stood over me, a frown on his face and his blue eyes hidden in the shadow of his intense brows.

“The plants…” I choked on tears and my hands trembled as I picked through the stomped and snapped roots and stems in their scattered piles of dirt and glass. “Mr.Yagi they—“

“The plants will be fine.” His voice was sharp causing me to look up through wet eyes and see his intense expression. It was like the first time I saw him when I was much younger: intimidating and scary. “Get back inside. Now.”

“But-“ I whimpered trying to save a few more blooms but I didn’t want any trouble from Mr.Yagi. Not after seeing what he could do with a simple pole and the way his face looked. I got up dusting my hands on the apron I wore while drying my eyes in the crook of my arm going back inside. Mr.Yagi followed me inside flipping the store's ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’.

“Never do that again.” His voice was cold as he set the plant hook back in its corner. I was silent. How was he not angry or sad at least? “The inventory of this place is not worth risking your life. The stock can always be regrown.”

“How can you just let them step all over them!?” I finally got to speak through the lump in my throat though still nervous. Mr.Yagi and I never fought before.

“They’re just flowers Midoriya.” His answer shocked me.

“They’re just flowers?” I felt my body shaking and tears stinging my eyes again, “They’re just. They aren’t just flowers Mr. Yagi! They took months to nurture to bring from seed to sprout! Careful attention to sun, food, and moisture! They were something we did together. You taught me how to grow them and you were there teaching me about different soil and PH levels for certain plants! You were there to warn against repotting younger plants in larger pots! And you taught me which leafs to trim for better growth. They were OUR hard work! They were OUR flowers! That was our time and memories together! Thrown in a pile of dirt and broken stems on the pavement!!” My tears were streaming in a river down my face while yelling at him. Were they really ‘just flowers’ to him? Tri was meowing at my feet trying to comfort me.

His left arm hugged around his side as he brought a napkin from his pocket to let out a feeble cough speckling it with blood. Had he been hurt when fighting the thugs!?

“Ah!? M-Mr.Yagi? Should I call an ambulance??!”

He shook his head waving his left hand to dismiss the offer his voice was softer, “No. I just irritated something, I’ll be fine.” He stuck the napkin in a trash bucket and waved for me to follow him, “Come to the back with me.”

Poor Tri was still confused but we left her in the main building as we traveled to the greenhouse in the back with its rows of fruit trees and vines of vegetables. He brought me to a desk with photos of a woman with black hair a smile on her face, her fingers raised in the peace sign. A small mole on her chin only added to her bright features. I’ve never been back here, never saw the desk with photos and a potted rose bush that was so well groomed and bloomed the biggest roses I’ve ever seen.

Mr.Yagi finally smiled again, but it seemed sad as he looked at the pictures.

“She adopted me when I was still in middle school.” He began to explain, “Later she was my commanding officer in the branch I worked for. She died in action… right in front of me.”

I looked at the pictures finding a few of them together. Mr.Yagi looked different when he was younger. He still had eyebrows not just the strong brow muscles left behind today. His face was full and his eyes were bright with his blue irises. He was so muscly, like a bodybuilder. His body was sculpted like a mountain! But some things hadn’t changed like how tall he was, and how wild his golden hair is with the two strands of droopy bangs. His smile was the same at least when they were together. “I’m sorry.” I offered while looking through the pictures and finally noticed the urn at the top of the desk. “Oh.” I stepped back realizing this was a memorial, a temple for the woman who had passed… her body was in that urn.

“Meet Nana.” Yagi motioned to the roses, “I used some of the ashes in the bush’s soil.”

“You did?” I bowed to the roses, “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” I offered my respectful greeting before asking Mr.Yagi, “Why?”

“So that we can continue doing things she loved to do together. Using human ashes to grow things isn’t as simple as it seems. The PH is much too high. You have to mix them with a special soil and roses are one of the harder plants to grow with them. But she’s worth all the time and effort. And so that in a way she’s still alive.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, “The point is: The most important things to me are safe and sound in the same room.”

I looked at the bush and the urn with a small smile. I guess if these were the only two things he truly cared about it was no wonder he could let the other flowers be toppled over.

“Izuku my boy,” He kept his hand on my shoulder, “I enjoy the time we share gardening and taking care of the shop. The flowers are a result of the hard work we bonded over. But they are not you. I still have you. We can pick up the mess left behind and nurture them back to health. But if anything were to happen to you…”

A flood of tears rushed to my eyes again my lip pouted and quivered, “I’m sorry!” I tried to hold back from sobbing when I realized he was talking about me!

His long lanky arm pulled me into a hug and I felt him rub circles on my back. My arms came up closing around him. While pressing my face into him I felt an odd divot by his abdomen but I didn’t mention anything.

“It’s alright.” He answered with a soft laugh, “Now come on let’s clean up the mess outside.”

That night Mr.Yagi and I stayed at the shop late. We collected the salvageable roots and stems and swept up as much soil as we could. Separating bits of the broken pots from the pile of soil carefully and repotting the plants. Some of the more fragile but viable stems were placed in small cups of water in hopes they’ll sprout their roots. Mr.Yagi had put on the radio just to have some background noise the volume wasn’t high enough to determine any song, just that there was a melody.

“Did you know,” Mr.Yagi stated while adding soil to a small starter plastic container, “Plants grow better when listening to classical music?”

“I didn’t know plants have ears!” I smiled now checking the leaves for any ears.

“Haha! Well, not ears per se,” he began to explain, “they pick up vibrations. And classical music mimics the vibration of a waterfall or flowing water; like a river.”

“Ooh!!” It made sense now! “So they want to reach for the water source and then grow bigger!”

“That’s right.” He nodded, “Though personally, it puts me to sleep. To be fair, so does the sound of a waterfall.”

The shop’s bell chimed and we both looked up from our work.

“Did we forget to lock the door? I remember putting up the closed sign.” My face flushed a little pink as my heart raced to my throat. Could it be those guys were back for revenge?

“Hello??” A woman’s voice called, “Mr.Yagi, Izuku?”

They knew my name?

“I gave your mother a spare key. Just in case.” Mr.Yagi smiled and nudged me with his elbow. “Relax kid. Hey, Ms. Midoriya we’re in the back!”

Mom entered the back room where we were working. A bag over her shoulder gave off the smell of food and I suddenly realized I was starving.

“I heard what happened!” She quickly wrapped her arms around me after setting down the bag on a table.

“Ah! I’m okay Mom! Be careful, I’m a mess!” I warned about my dirt-covered hands and apron. Of course, she didn’t care tightening her grip around me. “Mr. Yagi taught those guys a lesson.” I smiled patting her back.

We had dinner together at the shop while distant music played in the background. Despite the events leading up to it, I wouldn’t trade this memory for anything. Within the next week, Mr.Yagi had taken a few more days off. Nothing uncommon, but since school had started back up again I wasn’t around during the day. Sales were still okay during the evenings and whenever Mr.Yagi came around again he began to show me more of the paperwork that went into running the shop. By this time I should have realized why. When working together he’d take more breaks than usual to the back, I noticed more bloodied napkins in the trash cans, and Tri would linger around him more often. Maybe I already knew what was happening, subconsciously. I knew I was feeling down, an ache began to grow but I couldn’t quite place where the pain came from. And finally, the day I had begun to worry about finally happened; the last day I saw Mr.Yagi at the shop.

“Hello!” I called after the chime of the front door. I hooked my backpack up by the installed hook Mr.Yagi put on the wall for me. “Mr.Yagi??” I called when no one answered. I brought my apron over my head and tied it around my waist when Tri meowed by the back door. Mr.Yagi must have not heard me from back there- his old ears and all. Or from the coughing fit he was currently having. I shooed Tri away from the door but this time and the only time she insisted and slipped inside with me.

“Ah! Hey Tri, get back here.” I went in after her, “Uh sorry Mr.Yagi! She got through.” I looked up to see his tall slender figure slouched over a trash can. My eyes darted away and I felt my stomach sink.

“Young Midoriya” His voice shook in a few heavy breaths, “I’m so sorry I didn’t hear you come in.”

I offered a smile hiding my growing worry, “It’s fine! Uh, the cat wiggled in past me.” I nodded to the three-legged cat circling him franticly meowing.

“It’s alright, it’s me she’s after. My stomach can’t handle what it used to.” He rubbed the back of his head, “She thinks I’m sick.” When he picked her up she quickly went to rubbing her whiskered cheek against his sunken face. He was more pale than he usually was. He was…I didn’t want to accept it, so I chose not to acknowledge it. His hands were shaking when he handed me the snack he always had prepared for me.

“I’ll be back here, taking inventory.” He patted my shoulder. He was more hunched over than usual and if he wasn’t holding Tri he gripped his side and rest against the wall for a moment.

When it was closing time I hadn’t wanted to leave. I still had homework to do, my mom was waiting for me at home. But I felt a growing anxiety when I turned our ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed.’ I came to the back again finding Mr.Yagi sitting in a chair looking at the grove of trees he’d planted in the open space. Tri curled in his lap being soothed withed slow pets from shaking hands.

“Mr.Yagi” I called gently walking up next to him, “It’s closing time. I finished sweeping the floor and bringing in the plants from outside.”

“Ah,” He answered still sounding like he was catching his breath. “Thank you young Midoriya.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?” I didn’t want to leave. Maybe he could tell me how to make him better. Mix some special herbs and roots that would make him feel better.

“Do you know what my favorite flower is…” He asked still looking out at the trees his gaze glossy as if he was looking past them into another reality or some far-off land no one else could see.

“No, what is it?” I asked feeling my throat tighten.

“Sunflowers. And Yakusugi cedar trees. So tall and 1,000 years old.” He smiled softly. “Izuku… what do you want to do when you grow up and finish school?”

I tried to smile but felt my lip quiver. “I wanted to… work here. With you.”

“How do you feel about owning it?” He didn’t look away from his imaginary distant land.

“I-“ My throat clenched, “I mean, would you still be here?”

His laugh was breathy and short, “Of course. If you want me to be.”

“Then as long as you’re still here I’ll take charge of it,” I answered quickly stepping closer. “I’d like that very much, Mr.Yagi.”

His head slowly turned looking at me and smiled, his blue eyes looking more pale. “Call me Toshinori. You’ve been like a son to me. Izuku Midoriya, you’re a great kid y’know? And your mother is a strong woman. So kind and generous.”

“Yeah” I agreed, “I’m really lucky to have her. And you.”

“You better get on home to her, don’t keep her waiting for you.” He shifted in his chair before picking himself up and cradling the cat in one of his arms and taking me into the other. I quickly wrapped my arms around him hiding my face into his bony chest feeling him break out into a feeble cough unproductive in any way. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Come with me. We can have dinner again.” I tried insisting as we stepped closer to the exit.

“Oh thank you for the offer, but Tri and I have had a long day. I’d like to go to bed early tonight.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?” I asked stopping at the door and finally pulling out of his side hug.

He smiled lifting my backpack from the hook on the wall and handed it back to me and was silent for almost too long. Then bowed his head with another soft laugh, “I’ll be here. Now go on.” He sent me off by messing with my already wild green hair and watched the road as I crossed to get to my apartment. Mom was waiting for me at the door and they waved to each other.

The next day came too fast. When I woke up my eyes immediately looked across the street. The plants weren’t outside like usual, Mr.Yagi wasn’t outside watering them. The lights were still off. I couldn’t think when I went to school my pen tapping and leg bouncing. Kacchan had smacked his palm on my desk.

“Stop fighting damn it!”

“Sorry!” I yelped and too easily felt the tears rush to my face.

“What’s wrong with you today? So annoying.” He crossed his arms on the back of his chair. “The succulent garden is doing okay, but there’s a little browning on some of the tips…”

“O-oh? Um, that might be because of sunburn. It won’t harm them. Just move them from the window.” I explained remembering Yagi explains about succulents as he placed them in each of the gardens. Even though the plants were fairly simple to take care of they were also sensitive and would show symptoms if they weren’t happy.

“So, what’s your problem?” He asked turning around in his chair.

Just as I was about to explain the door to the classroom opened and Mr.Yamada came in whispering something to Mr. Aizawa. They both paused looking at each other and then their eyes rest on me.

“Midoriya, you’re needed at the principal’s office.” Mr.Aizawa announced softly, “Bring your things. Yamada will walk you down.”

“Oh o-okay.” I answered looking at Kacchan who rose his brow at me. I shrugged letting him know I wasn’t sure what this was about. As I left I heard Mr.Aizawa telling him to turn back around in his chair.

Mom was waiting for me in the office with tears down her face. When she saw me she dropped her purse and ran to me for a hug. That day I found out Mr.Yagi had gone to the hospital last night and passed away just this afternoon. He’d been making preparations for a while and in his will he left my mother and me the flower shop.

We got the keys shortly after a meeting my mother had with some people in suits. With the keys, they handed her a vase-looking glass with intricate designs of sunflowers molded into the pottery like a flowing field of green and yellow. The lid was an arched tree with small leaves sprouting from the smaller branches. An urn.

I cried in my room for what felt like weeks. I stayed home from school, I didn’t even go down to the flower shop. Mom had done the best she could manage it on her own, but someone eventually offered to help in my place. Mom put the decorated urn on a shelf in our living room. But it just never felt right. I didn’t want to keep him locked away in the house just sitting on a shelf. And then I remembered Nana. The rose bush in Mr.Yagi’s greenhouse office! For the first time, it felt like I was drying my eyes as I pulled myself up to my computer desk to search up: ‘Growing plants with ashes.’

It took a little research without Mr.Yagi as my open plant encyclopedia but he did mention the PH balance would have to be neutralized and that there would need to be a special soil. Roses were one of the more advanced plants to grow in general but even harder with ashes. There wasn’t much about growing sunflowers with human ashes but a website gave me a package of everything I needed to get started. And I started right away once it arrived. I brought the kit to the shop along with the urn carefully clutched in my arm. It felt like years since I heard the ring of the front bell.

I almost called out but realized Mr.Yagi wouldn’t answer back… I clutched the urn closer to my chest.

“Hello.” A voice greeted me as I got to the counter. I froze. It would be impossible to do any sort of business if he was a customer. I just wasn’t ready. I wanted everyone to get out and let me have the place to myself. But… that wouldn’t be good for business or what Mr.Yagi would have wanted. He stayed working, he came here on his very last day because it was what he truly loved doing.

“Hello…” I paused and set the spacial soil package on the counter, “Can I help you with anything?” My voice did little to hide how down and irritable I was about being interrupted.

“Oh? Are you… Mr.Midoriya the owner’s son?”

My heart squeezed. Mom and I were the owners now… but Mr.Yagi’s last words to me echoed in my head. It didn’t feel like were the owners. Mr.Yagi was still supposed to come in and set the display in the mornings, water the flowers, and call out ‘Hey young Midoriya!’ From the back of the counter… “It’s just Midoriya.” I corrected, “Did you need something?”

“Sorry.” The boy answered, “I was going to ask you the same thing. My name is Todoroki. I think we go to the same school. My father used to buy my mother gifts here all the time and, well, when he heard that there was new ownership and your mother was needing some help he volunteered me to work part-time.”

“Oh.” I turned around to see this ‘Todoroki’. His name was familiar, a kid with half his hair white and the other half red with a blue and grey eye. It would be difficult to forget a person that different looking. “We do go to the same school, we have the same class.”

“Right.” He nodded.

“Sorry, you had to pick up my slack and your dad made you come work here,” I answered now continuing my venture behind the counter and tried opening the back door.

“It’s no trouble. I don’t mind at all. It’s nice here.” He answered jogging over to grab the door handle and opened it for me. “You look like you have your hands full, allow me to carry something for you.” Before I could deny any help he’d plucked the soil bag from my arm.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. Looks like I won’t be rid of him any time soon.

His voice continued while he stayed in step next to me, “Let Your Love Grow; a living memorial soil mix.” A few steps of silence before he spoke again, “I didn’t know you needed a special mix.”

“Yeah.” I answered getting to the potting table and took out a small starter pot, “Human ashes are too high in PH balance and too salty for plants. I can take it from here thanks.” I was determined to get him away to be alone with my work.

“Oh…” He set the bag down on the table and took a step back. “I’m sorry for your loss by the way. I was there when you were called into the principal’s office. Everyone in class is kinda worried about you. I was worried about you.”

“Don’t. I’m fine.” I answered getting to work. “You should probably watch the front for customers.”

“Oh… y-yes sir.” He nodded but lingered for a moment before slowly shuffling his feet to walk back out to the front.

Finally, I was by myself. It was still and quiet.

‘Did you know, plants grow better when listening to classical music?’ Mr.Yagi’s voice had once chimed the fact while standing next to me.

I turned on the radio already tuned into a classical music station and set the volume loud enough to sound like a distant memory. I got back to my work sorting the soil out between pots and hesitantly reaching for the urn.

‘So that we can continue doing things she loved to do together.’

I sighed leaving my station and peeked out to the front. Todoroki had the plant hook setting a basket of flowers on one of the hooks.

“Todoroki…? Um.. sorry. But do you want to help me?”

He perked up twirling around with a smile, “Really? Yeah!”

Both of us now stayed at the table planting sprouts in the pots and picking a side of the greenhouse to set them to grow. Todoroki said he didn’t have much of a green thumb but liked to learn. I told him with a little practice he’d be a pro in no time.

Mom came in with fruit she’d picked from the trees a smile on her face.

“Look at my boys getting along!” She brought the both of us in a hug. “Thank you so much for helping us out Todoroki. And Izuku it’s good to see you back here. Y’know ever since you longingly looked over at this space when it was just a grassy lot I always knew it was going to be yours whatever became of it.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I smiled taking the fruit bowl.

Time went on, I never thought I’d be over the loss of Mr.Yagi. But as the new sunflowers bloomed in long thick stalks and hardy round flowers I was able to smile again. I put him next to the rose bush and play music for them all the time. When their flowers bloom Todoroki and I carefully harvest them and give them away free of charge.

[blouisparadise]

Here is another rec list of BL fics that feature everyone’s favorite trope, enemies to lovers! You can also check out part one here and part two here. Since there are so many fics to include on this list, we also plan to do more parts in the future! If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Say My Name And Everything Just Stops | Explicit | 5089 words

Harry and Louis are enemies and their friends leave them behind on a camping trip to sort out their differences. In a short amount of time, they do.

2) I Couldn’t Get Away From You | Mature | 5185 words

Suddenly in the heat of the moment, Harry’s eyes turned darker as he pushed Louis’ back more and more towards the wall. “Fine.” He plants his lips on Louis’ and begins to roughly kiss him, soon enough turning it into a make-out session.

“Fuck you, Styles,” Louis moans and grips onto Harry’s shoulders, hands trailing up to the taller’s hair and gripping that as well.

“We’ll see about that.”

3) Daddy to Coach to Daddy | Explicit | 5930 words

Harry is Louis' 'new' coach and things go down before turning better.

4) When the World Comes Down | Not Rated | 6248 words

"I wouldn't breathe the same air as him even if we were the only two people on earth"

Harry didn't mean that literally. Not until Harry and Louis are the only two people alive on this earth (to their knowledge).

5) It’s Hard To Fight Naked | Explicit | 11189 words

Prompt 6: Louis and Harry are roommates, but they cannot stand each other. When Harry heard Louis moan his name while Louis was riding a dildo in Harry’s room (Louis thought he was alone at home), Harry couldn’t stop himself and so he ended up fucking Louis against the mattress. Happy ending!

6) Let’s Make Christmas Merry, Baby | Explicit | 19871 words

Harry and Louis have to play Mr and Mrs Claus at a frat party and don’t get on, but keep getting stuck under mistletoe until they do.

7) Where I Should Be | Explicit | 20670 words

“That’s the difference between you and me,” Louis says. “I loved him. You liked him.”

Harry, far too interested in shattering Louis’ ardent loyalty to Wynn, says, “Such a waste.”

“Who are you to decide?” Louis breathes, craning his neck to glare.

“Who better to decide than me?” He leans imperceptibly closer. Wanting, waiting for him to close the inch of distance.

8) Sweet Revelation, Bitter Wine | Explicit | 20786 words

“Yeah, well. It’s not my fault I can’t stand the sight of you. This is kind of all your fault," Louis reminds him, his blue eyes flashing.

“Is that right?” Harry provokes him, clicking his teeth annoyingly. “That’s a shame, since you’re the most distractingly pretty demon slayer I’ve ever met.”

They're silent for a beat. He feels Harry’s fingers brushing over his cheekbone tenderly, before he's grasping his chin and tilting his face up properly to look at him.

Harry’s face is close to his now, his handsome features rendering him weak and leaving Louis to blink slowly at him, appreciating the view of a tall, morally ambiguous demon whose full attention is on him.

“Are you going to kiss me?” Louis asks him, voice honeyed and tempting as the fight leaves his body and he goes limp in Harry's grip.

9) Reach The Heavens Own Blue | Explicit | 21070 words

Louis is a Boston Red Sox and Harry is a New York Yankee.

10) Never Meant To Be So Bad To You | Mature | 27608 words

Louis hated Harry and his stupid confidence and his handsome face and his deep voice and his stupid jeans and his stupid smile and his stupid existence. He hated Harry, always had and always will. They’d never gotten along and Louis wasn’t sure how it started, but he knows that Harry was put onto this earth to bug the hell out of Louis. Being trapped inside of an arcade with him was hell and it hadn't been a full minute.

11) Sunflowers, Sunshine, And You | Explicit | 28778 words

Sunshine county is small but mighty and Harry takes pride in knowing nearly each and every person that lives inside of it. For nearly eleven years now he’s been sheriff, and not one of them he’s ever regretted settling down here.

He knows the road names like the back of his hand, knows the people and the animals and the way the world works here. In all of the time he’s been here, not a thing has changed.

So, all things considered, when he starts seeing a beat up pickup truck roaming through town with plates he’s never seen before, Harry, to be frank, jumps on that like a fly on fresh dog shit.

12) Voicemail Sings A Wreck | Explicit | 37016 words

Louis doesn’t have any proof, but he’s pretty damn sure that even when he’s dead and buried six feet deep, Harry Styles will still find a way to haunt him in his grave.

13) Happier Prettier | Explicit | 40348 words

It wasn't that Harry hated Louis Tomlinson. He was just a Broadway kid who got insanely famous thanks to some silly videos on an even sillier app, got a label contract, forgot about his roots and now he was pretending to be a pop star.  He didn't even mind that everyone was actually buying his act of being sweeter than honey. It was that Harry knew that game too well — he was inside it after all — he knew how fake people could get and how manipulative they actually were.

So no, it wasn’t that he didn’t like Louis, it was that he reminded him of everything he didn’t like in a person. Louis reminded him a bit too much of... her.

14) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels |Explicit | 40867 words

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

15) When Our Worlds They Fall Apart | Explicit | 42228 words

Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen.” 

16) Now I Think That I Could Love You Back | Explicit | 42255 words

“I do not care if she banishes me to my chambers for a month or the rest of the year, you two must see reason,” Louis protests, feeling a minor fit coming on. “He is nothing but an insufferable, cocky, cloddish, pitiful excuse for an Alpha, and he deserves to live the rest of his days in solitary, not me.”

“My, my, what an array of abuse. I surely would loath to be this inadequate excuse of an Alpha you speak of, but alas I cannot relate to possessing such deficiency,” a honey-glazed voice drips out from behind Louis, and the omega can feel the steam pouring over, ready to burst out of his already flushed ears.

17) Give My Love A Four Letter Name | Explicit | 46627 words

Louis hates Harry because he's a demon. Harry hates Louis because Louis hates him. Things change.

18) Oubaitori | Explicit | 48822 words

Louis and Harry meet again after years apart and have to learn to live together by detangling their shared past and uncovering old secrets.

19) Made For Lovin’ You | Explicit | 52637 words

The one where a quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.

20) Hold On To Your Heart | Explicit | 54183 words

The Proposal AU, where Louis is the no-nonsense editor in chief of one of the largest publishing houses in the country, and Harry is the unlucky assistant that gets roped into a fake engagement to prevent his boss from being deported. Things don't go as planned.

21) Let Your Damage, Damage Me | Explicit | 57077 words

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared.

Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate.

‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand.

“Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

22) Mead Of Poetry | Explicit | 65053 words

Under the pressure of continuing the Styles viscountcy line now that he is getting older, Harry sets himself three rules to finally settle down and marry: firstly, the omega needs to be reasonably attractive, secondly, they must be of great mind, thirdly, they cannot be anyone he would ever fall in love with.

Enters Charlotte Tomlinson, the diamond of the first water of the upcoming season and seemingly the perfect candidate to the viscount’s plan, but her omega brother, Louis, is in Harry’s way. Louis only seeks to protect his sister and he sure is not going to let a rake play with her heart.

23) We’ll Cast Some Light (You’ll Be Alright) | Not Rated | 74409 words

There’s a standard procedure for this. Scan, track, kill. But with a solar eclipse and a Greater Demon with unfinished business looming, the path to keeping England safe from harm becomes complicated and shadowed by mystery and secrets. For Harry and his team, times have never been harder, especially when a few old friends turned foes show up. Harry is left with just over forty days to overcome the hurdle of tension between them and reconcile their past, and figure out just what Louis is hiding from him before it’s too late.

24) Worsens, Nothing Grows | Mature | 102528 words | Sequel

Another roadtrip AU featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

25) Heart Jab | Explicit | 113129 words

Louis is a famous boxing champion living and working in London, Harry is an up-and-coming boxing star who jeopardizes Louisʼ position in the business. They meet when Louis is right about to further walk down a very thin line of desperation, loneliness, hopelessness and self-destruction, and this does not come without fights, screams, tears and talks. But eventually, when it all comes down, Louis has to decide which way he wants to go, despite all the hardships thrown at him. And Harry has to battle his own demons to be there when that happens.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Excuse you?! How dare, how fucking dare!

All of your requests are official, officially amazing and on an ‘immediately write this’ sort of schedule! Buttt on a serious note, wow it’s weird as hell seeing you in my actual askbox instead of my messages! I ALSO had to make a god damn header image for this too because I’m committed at this stage, which is a part of the reason why this took so long to post...the other part is I’m a procrastinating lil’ shit hahahah

As always, hope you enjoy this @himawari-senpaii​

May the angst be with you~

🥃 AO3 🥃 || ✉️My Askbox✉️ || 💬Discord💬

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

Fatgum / Taishiro Toyomitsu

 .

🍡 It was over nothing. Something small and insignificant, but strangely neither of you could drop the argument. Instead of walking away to simmer off and apologise later, you kept disagreeing; you kept pushing.

🍡 Right up until Taishiro slammed his hands down onto the kitchen table that stood between the both of you, the sudden and terrifyingly loud noise silencing you in an instant.

🍡 Taishiro had been silenced by something else though. His argument had died off when he saw the way you jumped in response, nearly tripping over yourself to step away from him. To put distance between the two of you.

🍡 He could see the panic in your eyes, the fear.

🍡 No noise was made as Taishiro closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself of the stupidly unneeded anger that had been bubbling up inside of him; willing it to disappear until he was calm enough to right the fear reflecting in your eyes.

🍡 Despite being such a large man, standing at a full 8’2” inches tall, he was good at approaching frightened people. It came with the job.

🍡 And so, when he knew he would have the patience to help you, he opened his eyes and moved to approach. Slowly, with movements you could both see and understand; reaching out towards you with his palm facing up. Not quite daring to touch you until he knew you would be comfortable with it.

🍡 “Baby doll, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ya…c’mere…you know I won’t ever hurt ya” – He spoke softly, the sort of tone someone would use for a lost or injured animal; the kind of voice that made you want to run into his warm embrace.

 .

 .

Lemillion / Mirio Togata

 .

🥞 Mirio rarely gets upset when he isn’t working as a pro-hero and even then, it’s an unusual sight; villains are the only ones that get to see his enraged moments.

🥞 Which is what threw you off most when you were arguing with the blonde bombshell of a man; it was over something silly. Unimportant. But in no time at all, it had turned into angry remarks and hurt feelings.

🥞 Shouting followed soon after. That’s when you had thrown in the towel, deciding it was better to leave the conversation for a time when Mirio wasn’t so wound up; but when you tried to leave the room, he had grabbed a hold of your arm.

🥞 While it hadn’t been enough to hurt you, it was enough to startle you into knocking over a nearby object. Though you had no idea what it was until you heard it; the shattering sound of your dearly loved vase. The one with sunflowers that Mirio had brought you as a present for your first anniversary with him.

🥞 Mirio had gone silent at the way you recoiled from the sudden noise, his grip on you disappearing and allowing you to flee the room before you had enough time to process what had happened.

🥞 It had taken Mirio longer than he wanted to admit before he went to check on you, he had actually left the shared home for a few hours; long enough for you to tidy up the broken vase.

🥞 When he found you in the house, you were sitting quietly in the kitchen with some glue and red stained fingertips; trying your best to fix the old anniversary gift with little to no luck and a lot of accidents.

🥞 “…(Name)…? I’m…I’m sorry about earlier, scaring you like that…” – Mirio’s voice was barely above a whisper as he approached the kitchen table, gently setting down a rather large brown bag before moving to kiss the top of your head despite the way you ignored his presence.

🥞 You hadn’t had plans to forgive him yet, the present had meant a lot to you and now that it was broken; you were left feeling strange. Upset. Confused and unsure as to what was going to happen next.

🥞 But that changed the moment Mirio removed the contents of the brown bag he had brought in, a replica of the broken vase now sitting safely in the middle of the kitchen table.

🥞 An apology given without needing to be asked for. It was all you needed to know that he really did care about you, that he hadn’t meant for things to get so out of hand earlier in the day.

 .

 .

Suneater / Tamaki Amajiki

 .

🐙 For Tamaki, loud arguments with you was something that never happened; he was too anxious for such things on a normal day. However, weeks of late nights and early mornings left you in bed without him most of the time and it was beginning to eat away at the both of you.

🐙 He had gotten home around lunch time for the first time in a long time and his mood wasn’t the best, then again, yours wasn’t much better. Especially when he announced that he had asked for the rest of the day off to come home.

🐙 That’s what had started it. You were hurt by the simple statement, not having realised that he could request to come home earlier than he was asked to; but what hurt most was how uncaring Tamaki seemed to be when you voiced such complaints to him.

🐙 It only took a few minutes before Tamaki was arguing back with you, his words short and sharp; the complete opposite to the usual Tamaki you loved. The Tamaki that was warm and gentle with you, the Tamaki that always seemed to be able to split up his time between work and home just right.

🐙 You had actually flinched away from him when he raised his voice, the loud command for you to shut up completely silencing you and while that was exactly what he had been after; you could see how horrified he was at himself for actually shouting at you.

🐙 It was an alarming change in pace for the two of you and when Tamaki reached out for you, his mouth opening to let out an apology you could see written all over his features.

🐙 You ran.

🐙 You left the house and in doing so, you also left behind your keys and phone by mistake; giving Tamaki no way of contacting you. Which destroyed him.

🐙 It was hours before you were found again and even then, Fatgum had been the one to find you; having been searching along with Tamaki and Eijiro. Though they had split up to cover more ground.

🐙 Once you had been checked for injuries, Fatgum took you back to his office with a casual conversation about how hectic things had been over the past few weeks and how grateful he was for Tamaki’s help.

🐙 A conversation you weren’t so keen to have, but one you ended up being grateful for. Giving out information that you hadn’t been aware of, leaving you feeling more than a little ashamed at how selfish you had been to be angry at Tamaki for not asking to come home early sooner.

🐙 He had been flat out helping Fatgum and doing his best to come home to you each day.

🐙 By the time Tamaki had returned to Fatgum’s office after getting the call that you were safe and sound, you were practically in tears and apologising to him relentlessly while he held you close. Mumbling about how happy he was that you were safe, his own apologies for shouting almost burying your own.

🐙 The goodbye to Fatgum and Eijiro was awkward, they had heard everything through the walls and were trying their best not to let you know that they had heard while you thanked them for searching for you.

🐙 With the stressful events of the day over with, you finally got to go to bed with Tamaki; safely snuggled up against his side, enjoying his loving embrace and soft mumbles of affection.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

all three heartbeats

bakugou katsuki / f.reader

genre: married au (husband/wife), angst, hurt/comfort?, fluff, katsuki being a sap in lowercase

synposis: katsuki works full time as a prohero, but his time working to ensure the publics safety kept him busy- far too busy at times.  he seeks comfort in you and his newborn little girl because the both of you keep him grounded and keep him fighting. he just wishes he could find a way to feel like a better father and husband. 

w.count: 3.6k

a/n: hi hello i aint never written for bnha before and i thought i would never write anime fics again but here we are years after (it has been actual years, someone save me LOL). what better way than to start back out with blasty amiright? 

It was one of those nights.  Katsuki had just walked into his home at an ungodly hour and as he shut the door behind him, he leaned his back against it, He flicked all three locks of the front door shut and dropped his duffle bag at his feet before he tipped his head back to rest on the wood.  He closed his eyes, sighing as he had the urge to just sink to the floor of the entryway landing and power nap. 

Lord knows when his phone would buzz or ring again- his seemingly never ending work calling him to clock in again. It seemed like recently he never clocked out of his job- always working, patrolling, fighting petty villains trying to commit petty crimes and occasionally stopping more dangerous situations that kept him on edge and busy for hours to days on end.  

The duffle he dropped at his feet was full with his gear and his hero suit that was in desperate need of washing and minor repairs- things that if he even muttered to himself about, you would happily offer your aid. 

His closed eyes opened and his chin dropped back down, the back of his head coming off the door as he pushed the rest of his body off it as well.  He heeled off his shoes and ruffled his hair as he finally walked into his home, leaving his duffle at the door as he made his way to the bathroom.  

In all honesty, Katsuki wanted to go immediately to the room he shared with you where he knew you were asleep. He desperately needed a shower though, and he wasn’t planning on crawling into bed to hold you smelling like sweat, smoke and hero work.  

You told him before you didn’t mind his post-work scent, in fact you told him it was charming in it’s own way since it was proof that Pro Hero: Dynamight worked harder than anyone else to one day be the No.1 Hero he’d been dreaming of his entire life. 

Katsuki never told you, but he’d think about that almost everyday and it always made him smile when he did. 

The shower he took was brisk and quick because all he wanted to do was go to bed.  He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t just taking power naps on the couch at the agency. He couldn’t remember the last time he got to go to sleep in his own bed. Katsuki couldn’t remember the last time he got to hold you and it was starting to really piss him off.  

Since graduating UA, getting engaged, married and then having a child with you, is tempter had considerably settled.  He wasn’t entirely tame by any means, he was still a quick fire with insults, refused to use people’s names and stuck to stupid nicknames he thought of, cursed like a sailor and exploded when something mildly frustrating ticked him off- but he wasn’t like he was before.  

When Katsuki can stand to be in the same room as Todoroki and Midoriya and not blow a giant fuse within the first sentence exchange, anyone would call that progress.  

It was no shock that you were a large factor in his settled image- he had to start leaning self control and how to manager his attitude.  The one extremely rocky point in your relationship with Katsuki back when you both were third years and you threatened to leave him if he didn’t shape up made him change.  It wasn’t easy, but the arguments and fights you both had back then serve as a reminder of how far he had come according to you. 

When Katsuki stepped out of the bathroom, he sighed- feeling refreshed- as he walked to the bedroom with a towel around his waist and another over his head drying his hair.  It was way too late to be running the hairdryer, he’d risk waking up his child that he knew was otherwise dead to the world in their crib.

Twisting the doorknob as quietly as he could, Katsuki stepped into the bedroom and his eyes immediately looked to the bed, seeing your body’s shape beneath the comforter of the giant, Alaskan king bed you insisted you absolutely needed.  

He felt his lips twitch as he left the door cracked to let in a small amount of light from the hall without stirring you.  He went to his dresser and snatched a pair of shorts and a tank top and threw them on before he left the room as quietly as he had come in. 

Katsuki went back to the front door and picked up his duffle bag, moving it into the living room and setting it on the couch to fiddle with it in the morning. He grabbed his phone from the side pouch of the duffle and began to shut the lights off and retreated back down the hall.  

Before he went back to the room you slept in to join you, he stopped first in the room that was directly across the hall from his and yours and as quiet as a mouse crept in.  

The nursey was painted in a pale yellow with sunflowers painted on the walls (curtesy of the bakusquad who insisted they were in charge of nursery decorations). Against the wall was a shelved cubby for toys and items for the baby and beside that was a changing table.  Across the room was a tall dresser filled with way too many baby onesies and outfits for the future. 

Katsuki walked to the white, wooden crib at the back of the room as the room itself was glowing in the soft, blue light of the baby’s nightlight.  He leaned over the crib side and looked down to see his child sleeping just as quiet as can be.  

He smiled as he reached down and stroked her chubby cheeks with the back of his knuckles.  She was warm and soft. 

“Hey there, Girlie,” he whispered, barely audible. Just watching his little girl sleep so soundly made his chest warm. God, he loved her so much.  He frowned as he thought about how tough it might be on you while he’s away looking after her by yourself.  She was barely a few months old and he hasn’t even had a weekend with you two yet.  

Katsuki bit his lip to keep from letting the disappointment he felt in himself slip out in the form of growls. 

He stuck around in the nursey for a few more minutes, just petting and admiring his child before he snuck back out and finally, finally went back to his room and as carefully as possible slid into bed.  

You slept in the center of the bed that could easily fit four sleeping bodies, and Katsuki shuffled in further towards you before he was right behind you.  He stared at your back in the dark room, his eyes adjusting more and more as the minutes pass.  

Katsuki lightly grabbed your shoulder before he was pulling you to your back and then reaching over you to lay on your chest.  On an ordinary day, Katsuki would be happy just holding you, but he felt especially worn out and drained. So, for once, even if you were sleeping, he just wanted to be held instead. 

His cheek pushed into your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat beneath his ear. His right arm stretched over your shoulder to rest by your head and his left stayed beside his own body, his right leg hiked over your waist to be as close to you as he could get. 

He felt his eyes roll before he shut them, finally feeling comfortable and warm and safe for the first time in days.  He was finally breathing easy and all he wanted to do was stay here, in your arms, for the rest of his life. 

As he started to finally doze off, his eyes fluttered open at the feeling of something carding through his hair. 

He heard you take a deep breath before you were shifting just a bit to curl around him more and he felt your chin push against the top of his head. 

“Go back to sleep,” he muttered, feeling your sleepy gaze on the top of his head.  The small, sleepy chuckle that left your chest hummed against his cheek. 

“Welcome home,” you whispered, sleep laced heavily in your voice as he felt your lips push against his scalp.  “How was work?” You ask so innocently, but the question only made Katsuki burrow his face into your chest further. He doesn’t answer you, so you prompt him further. “Katsuki?” 

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered, lifting his face just enough to speak clearly then pushing it back down again.  

You say nothing at that and instead return to just carding your fingers through his semi-damp hair as you bask in each other and the silence of the house.  You glance over to the alarm clock, seeing the time 4:03 am in orange, glowing numbers. 

You feel like you have loads you want to talk about with Katsuki, things you want to share with him that had happened and things you want to have him tell you that’s happened, but it’s too quiet and too peaceful to bring them up.  They’d have to wait. 

“’m sorry,” he suddenly spoke from where he lay on your chest.  Your fingers stop their mindless fiddling in his hair and he grips onto you tighter. 

“What for?” 

“Not being here.” 

You felt your heart crack at the tone of his voice.  He’s always been more open and mushy around you- as much as he denies it and he only get’s more open and more mushy when he was sleep deprived and just plain exhausted.  

“I’m always working, always gone, always away doing fuck-knows-what out there and not here.  I’m not home and that’s gotta really fucking suck.”  He’s silent for a moment but you dare not speak. You feel like he’s been holding a lot in recently and if he’s choosing now to let it all out, you would silently encourage him to do that.  

“I mean-” he scoffs at himself, “we’re married for fucks sake.  We have a baby and I’m basically leaving you home alone day after day to raise her by yourself.” 

“What?” Your shocked to think that’s how he feels.  “Katsuki, that’s not-”

“It feels true,” he whimpers. “I feel like if I keep doing this, keep leaving you and Misuzu alone,” his voice cracks at the sound of his daughter’s name leaving his lips, “then you’ll both just disappear and I won’t even have the balls to go after you two.” You think you feel something wet seep through your sleep shirt, but you don’t say a thing about it.  “I don’t feel like a husband and I don’t feel like a father. How can I feel like a hero if I can’t even spare the time to be with my god damn family?” 

“Well,” you start.  In truth, all you want to do is console him, but for all you know that could make him feel worse. You had to figure out what he wanted first. “What do you want to do then?” 

He took a deep breath before he let it out again. 

“I think I’m going to take some time off,” he concluded.  It had been on his mind recently and now was as good a time as any.  He just wanted to be home. “Maybe a week or two.” 

“If that’s what you really want to do, then I think that’s a great idea. Just don’t forget to tell Eijirou or else he’ll blow a fuse if he just think’s your late because the great Dynamight is always punctual.” 

You got a hearty puff of air and smile out of him for that little line.  it was no shock that when all came down to it, Kirishima Eijirou and Bakugou Katsuki ended up working in the same agency. 

“I’ll just text the bastard.” 

“You need to tell the agency too, you dolt,” you lightly whacked him on the bed as he groaned.  Getting time off wasn’t going to be hard for him considering the god awful hours he’s been forced into the past however long.  Just going into the office to get that time off is annoying and a process he wish he could get someone else do to for him. “Just head out in the morning and let both your partner and your agency know. It won’t be so bad.” 

“Whatever,” he huffed.  “Just, go back to sleep.” 

You glanced back at the clock to see that only about half and hour had passed.  You sighed as you closed your eyes happily ready to return to sleep before Misuzu woke up. 

You swore Katsuki was out before you. 

-x-x-x-

You woke up three hours later, just after 7 am to the sounds of your daughter’s crying from her nursey. When you opened your eyes and sat up, your husband was no where to be seen.  

You frowned, knowing that he was awake somewhere and he had only slept a few hours. Shaking your head, you got up and went to Misuzu’s room to get her from her crib and bring her into your arms.  

You shushed the infant in your arms as you left the nursey and walked around the house.  Katsuki was no where to be found and his everyday shoes were gone from the shoe rack next to the door.  He must’ve went out already. 

Not thinking much of it, you moved to the kitchen to grab one of Mizusu’s bottles from the fridge.  One plus of pumping was getting bottles for the future- but that was one of the only pros among a number of cons.  

With Misuzu being still so young, she didn’t do much beside nursing, napping and diaper calls.  She would coo and whine and clutch onto your fingers and clothes and hair, but her energy was never prolonged.  

After nursing, burping and playing with her she was yawning again. You left to place her back in her crib in her room as you let he sleep a little while longer. Flipping on the baby monitor, you left the room and went to the kitchen.  Your daughter had breakfast, it was only fair that you got something to eat too. 

As you scrambled the last eggs in your fridge, enough for Katsuki just in case you saw him this morning, you heard the front door open and shut again.  You smiled as you heard footsteps come treading into the kitchen and you looked over your shoulder to see your husband.  

You smiled at him as he rubbed the back of his head. Dressed in jeans that tore just slightly in the thighs and a t-shirt, Wwhen he saw you, he immediately started going towards you. 

“Good morning,” you told him as he was at your side looking over your shoulder. “Welcome home.” 

“Mmn,” he hummed at you. 

“Where’d you go so early in the morning?” 

“Agency.” 

“You should’ve slept in a little bit more.  You didn’t sleep long.”  

“I didn’t want to wait any more to just be able to stay home.” 

You smiled at his answer.  You brought one hand up to pat his cheek as he leaned into your touch.  

“Why don’t you go get comfortable if you’re staying home then?” 

He hummed at you again, nodding before he kissed your shoulder and sauntered back into your shared room. He took his time getting changed and getting into more homey clothes, because when he came back into the kitchen you were placing your food on plates for the both of you. 

This time, when he came to you, instead of standing beside you, he latched onto you from behind as he buried his face into your neck.  You could tell from the feeling of his eyelashes tickling your skin that he was still tired. You had half a mind to tell him to just go back to bed and he could really wake up and eat later. 

The way he tightened his grip on your waist and started to sway ever so gently back and forth in the kitchen made you stay silent though.  It was a serene moment between you two and you just closed your eyes and basked in it.  It had been so long since you just got to bask in him and him in you. 

“You hungry?” You asked as softly as you could muster. He nodded but made no effort to try and move away from you.  “Do you expect to eat with your face hidden?” You teased. 

“Just a little longer,” he muffled, his breath making your skin rise with gooseflesh as it tickled.  

Half and hour later, you were taking his plate from him as he cleaned it of food and went to put them in the sink.  He jumped from his chair at the table before he was gently moving you away from the metal hole in the counter where you were about to wash the dishes you had dirtied this morning. 

“I’ll wash them,” he insisted. 

“I don’t mind doing it.” 

“Don’t be so damned stubborn.  You cooked, so it’s fair.” 

You shrugged as you relented. “If you really insist. Thank you, Katsuki.” You placed a small, short kiss on his cheek before you moved back to the table to sit.  

As he cleaned up the dishes, you sat at the table and fiddled with your phone, scrolling through apps to see what you missed and then flicking occasionally to watch Katsuki’s back.  

“I feel you fuckin’ staring,” he spoke as he shut the water off, shaking his hands before he dried them on a towel.  The dishes all sat in a plastic draining rack as he turned around and leaned against the counter.  You placed your chin in your palm as you laughed at him. 

“Yeah? Got a problem with it?” 

“Not necessarily.” 

You both jumped when a small whine was heard over the speaker of the baby monitor you had sitting on the center of the table.  You pushed your chair out, but before you could even stand up, Katsuki was up and down the hall to check on Misuzu. 

When you made it to her door, he had already lifted her out of her crib.  She had reached up and snagged a tiny handful of her father’s hair as he hissed. 

“Listen you little brat, just because your my baby doesn’t mean you can yank on my hair.” Her small fist only yanked down on his hair more as if to say ‘I can and will’.  You chuckled as you walked into the nursey and started to detangle her hand from his blond hair.  

Katsuki watched as her fingers released his hair and instead wrapped around your finger as you bounced it slightly. Her tiny arm moved in tandem with your finger bounces. 

“Hey,” your soft voice calling him suddenly brought him out of his own mind. You gently pulled Misuzu’s fingers off you as you pushed your palm against Katsuki’s cheek. “Why are you crying?” 

Was he? God, he hated crying- especially in front of you.  He clicked his tongue, whipping his head to face away from you as he used one of his hands to quickly swipe under his eyes. 

“I’m not.” 

You smiled at him, holding back a laugh as you pushed your husband into the living room to let Misuzu play on the floor.  Katsuki sat on the living room floor cross legged as you watched him play with her as she lay on her back.  

Occasionally he would glance at the time and remind you to pump, as if your tender chest wasn’t a constant reminder anyway.  You always just nodded and told him you would when you needed to. 

The three of you spent the morning in the living room until the infant began to yawn back to back and rub at her eyes clumsily.  You let Katsuki put her down for her nap in the afternoon since he never really had the opportunity to.  Through the baby monitor you could hear him mutter and coo at her to go to sleep. 

When she was down, Katsuki came back into the living room and sat himself beside you on the couch.  He sighed, throwing his head back against the couch and closing his eyes, obviously ready for a nap himself.  

“Why not try and sleep while she’s down?” You had planned on getting him to rest while you start to go through the duffle bag you had relocated to the corner of the room a while ago to see what all he needed done with his hero equipment.  

He opened one of his eyes, seeing you eyeing towards his bag and he frowned.  He shifted his body, snatched your waist and threw himself back to lay on the cushions, you following in tow to lay on top of him. 

“Katsuki!” You scolded in a hushed tone as to not wake up your daughter who just went to sleep.  

“I’ll nap here and you will too. No objections.” He brought one of his hands up to start stroking your head. “Just let me take care of my god damn wife for once.” You just shook your head and pushed your cheek further against his chest to get comfortable.  When he says it like that, you can’t really bring yourself to oppose him.  

“Hey,” you whispered. You felt him hum in response to you. “I love you.” 

His legs shifted and his arms wrapped around you tighter, getting more comfortable. He let out a deep, comfortable breath as you felt him push his cheek into the top of your head. 

“‘Fuckin’ love you too.”