#thoughts from 1:37 am

[enhanced-operatives-division]

One day I'll draw the ieytd cast with all the flower imagery i want

[girlwithrituals]

101 ways to improve self esteem

1) Master a new skill.

2) List your accomplishments.

3) Do something creative.

4) Challenge your limiting beliefs.

5) Talk to a counselor.

6) Don't worry about what others think.

7) Read or watch something inspirational.

8) Stay true to your character.

9) Let go of negative people.

10) Set healthy boundaries with others.

11) Care about your appearance.

12) Welcome failure as part of growth.

13) Be a lifelong learner.

14) Face your fears.

15) Become a mentor.

16) Accept compliments.

17) Eliminate self-criticism.

18) Practice coping skills to manage stress and big emotions.

19) Notice negative thoughts and beliefs.

20) Challenge negative thinking.

21) Think about what you learned from negative experiences.

22) Practice gratitude.

23) Exercise.

24) Eat healthy and limit junk food.

25) Get good sleep.

26) Spend time with positive and supportive people.

27) Encourage yourself.

28) Write a list of your strengths.

29) Don't compare yourself to others.

30) Avoid perfectionism.

31) Do at least one positive, enjoyable activity every day.

32) Celebrate small victories.

33) Be helpful and considerate to others.

34) Be honest with yourself and others.

35) Accept your flaws.

36) Don't give up.

37) Practice self-care.

38) Go easy on yourself.

39) Practice being assertive.

40) Practice saying "No".

41) Practice relaxation techniques.

42) Take on challenges.

43) Volunteer to help others.

44) Forgive others and yourself.

45) Set goals and work toward them step by step.

46) Seek balance in all areas of your life.

47) Discover your passions and purpose

48) Groom yourself.

49) Dress nicely.

50) Be kind and generous to others.

51) Practice good posture.

52) Change a small habit.

53) Smile.

54) Don't procrastinate.

55) Don't take things personal.

56) Organize your personal space.

57) Challenge unkind thoughts about yourself.

58) Spend time outside.

59) Notice the good things.

60) Celebrate your successes

61) Write a list of things you like about yourself.

62) Don't take too much on.

63) Do something for yourself every day.

64) Develop daily habits.

65) Remind yourself it's okay if not everyone likes you.

66) Practice mindfulness.

67) Learn to tolerate discomfort.

68) Use problem-solving skills.

69) Take responsibility instead of blaming.

Tell Yourself Positive Affirmations Such As:

70) I am grateful for every day.

71) I am worthy of happiness and love.

72) I am in charge of my own happiness.

73) I love, respect, and believe in myself.

74) I deserve to be happy and successful.

75) I approve of myself, right here and now.

76) I am learning and changing for the better.

77) I accept 100% responsibility for my own life.

78) Every day in every way, I am getting better and better.

79) I can learn to accept the parts of myself that I don't like.

80) I am thankful for my challenges as they make me a stronger person.

81) Write down three positives about each day.

82) Make a collage with your talents, goals, and dreams.

83) Practice laughing.

84) Be proud of yourself.

85) Say mistakes are an opportunity to learn.

86) Show respect to yourself and others.

87) Resolve conflict peacefully.

88) Ask for help or support.

89) Complete a daily task list.

90) Have a growth mindset.

91) Be optimistic.

92) Treat yourself with kindness and compassion.

93) Focus on the things you have control over and can change.

94) Get started on tasks you have been putting off.

95) Practice good daily hygiene.

96) Focus on solutions not problems.

97) Talk about your feelings with someone you trust.

98) Drink plenty of water.

99) Start a new hobby or join a club/sport.

100) Do random acts of kindness.

101) Create a dreams list.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SUIT JACKET

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader ↳ part 2 here

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner seems to love his suit jacket on you. WARNING: nothing besides a few curses (I think) A/N: not my gif, ctto! This was also sitting on my drafts for almost a year and barely proofread, so I apologize for the errors.

Sunday, March 11, 2:04 AM

"Thanks, unibrow." You grinned drunkenly, smiling at your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner, as you collapsed in the cab's backseat. His suit jacket kept you cozy and covered like a cocoon while you comfortably giggled at the applied inside joke of his new nickname.

With Penelope's constant peer pressure, your inhibition has reached rock bottom eleven shots, five cocktails, and two whiskey glasses ago. You downed liquor like water, easing your stiff shoulders.

Aaron only stared at you with the same impassive face he had and shut the door before the cold caught you. He hunched in front of the driver's window, "This woman is a federal agent, and if something happens to her, I'll hunt you down. Please, drive her home safely." He straightened back up, casually tapping the vehicle's roof.

The cab took you away only after Aaron snapped a picture of the cab's plate number. He sighed as the vehicle slowly disappeared from his line of sight. He twisted on the balls of his feet, met by his other children, agents drunkenly calling his name.

Tuesday, March 27, 10:14 AM

You scurried out of the elevator, weaving through the sea of agents in the bullpen and then to the conference room where everybody was already settled in.

"So sorry! There was this son of a b—" You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, clenching your fists. Then, you exhaled profoundly with a calm smile at the end. "I got in a car accident. Go on, Pen. Sorry for interrupting." You took a seat between Aaron and JJ.

JJ turned to you, "Are you okay?" Her hand gently landed on one of yours, giving you a worried squeeze.

You gathered a smile and raised a thumb, "Thick skull and strong bones. Nothing can break me, not even this unsub... whoa—" Your eyes widened a bit.

How ironic for your case to be about an unsub who performed a craniotomy on the victims. You smiled awkwardly, the similar tight-lipped smile that Spencer would always plaster on his face.

The other agents coughed a chuckle at your reaction while Penelope continued the debrief with the same horrified look.

Upon listening to the case details, you slowly felt colder, subtly rubbing the sides of your shoulders. You were so caught up in your anger towards the guy that rear-ended you you could've sworn your body was overheating. You left your blazer somewhere and were sure it wasn't in your wrecked car.

"Alright, wheels up in 30," Aaron announced, sending everyone to get out of their seats and grab their go bags and snapping you off your trance in the process.

You rushed to collect your file copy and headed for the door but halted when Aaron called you. You pivoted on your heels, "Yes?"

He was taking off his jacket, handing it to you as soon as it peeled off his body.

"I don't think dry cleaning your suit is part of my job description, Sir." You kidded as you stared at his black jacket.

Aaron rolled his eyes. It was so rare that you had to blink twice to ensure you didn't have a concussion from your minor car accident. "You're cold." He wasn't asking, plainly stating your slight predicament.

Your eyebrows knitted, mouth slightly opened. And as if the universe was mocking you, a sudden draft slapped you in a shiver. You snatched his jacket and mumbled a small thank you.

As you walked out of the conference room, teasing eyes bore holes into your being. Each BAU team member's narrowed brows held you captive, and their loud thoughts rang in your ears. You ignored all of it, though, taming your anxiety with the warmth of Aaron's jacket.

Wednesday, April 13, 1:37 PM

"Garcia, look for old cases with one young boy as a survivor." Aaron started, listing each task that everyone was to complete.

You were so focused on the case that your next movement caught you off guard.

Your back snapped straight from the slap of Minnesota air. It was brief. An officer merely opened and closed the door, but your body was nowhere near as warm as it was a few seconds ago.

The warmth of cotton fabric soon hugged your shoulders, along with the momentary weight of Aaron's hands, before he fully let go of his suit jacket.

He continued talking as if what he had just done was normal or anything close to casualty, "Morgan and Reid, try speaking with the victim's family one more time."

Emily exchanged looks with JJ, conversing silently while you obliviously sipped your coffee.

Friday, May 2, 5:04PM

"Capital O-M-G!" Penelope squealed, drumming on your shoulders as soon as she came close.

"Garcia, breathe," JJ gently placed her hands on Penelope's shoulders, modeling a regular breathing pattern.

Emily gave you a look as she sipped her coffee, which you returned with a shrug. Penelope was ever so eccentric. You've gotten used to it over the years you've been with the team.

"Okay, okay, okay. I'm good. Just that— I was— Ugh! Look!" Penelope shoved her phone in your face.

You saw a blinding blur, forcing out a sarcastic, "Wow! I can definitely see."

Luckily, JJ took it to herself to pull Penelope's phone away from messing up your eyesight and looked at the image plastered on the screen. A smirk immediately covered her lips, "Oh."

"What is it? Let me see—" Emily walked behind JJ. Her jaw dropped not long after. "Anything you want to tell us?" She cooed as she gave you the widest grin she had ever flashed, at least for that morning.

Your eyebrows clashed, and your forehead creased, "Whatever are you on about?"

"You're telling us nothing's happening between you and a guy?" Emily's grin only widened. You wondered how wide it could get, terrifying you in the process.

JJ flipped the phone to your end. The brightness of the screen stung your eyes a bit. "Want to explain this?"

Photo: It looked like the picture was cropped because you saw Derek's arm around you, but he was nowhere to be found in the image. Aaron's jacket was around your shoulders while he was behind you, glaring at Derek's arm.

"What about it?" The confusion was solid in your voice. However, you had a bit of an idea of what the three of them were insinuating.

Penelope stepped closer to you, "Uhuh, sure," she started as she zoomed in on the picture. "You're telling me you can't see Hotch's jacket on your shoulders, let alone Hotch glaring at my chocolate thunder?"

"He let me borrow his jacket because I was cold. Doesn't he always do that with everyone?" You innocently asked, looking at each one of them.

"Still doesn't explain him glaring at Derek." Emily chimed in a teasing tone, wiggling her eyebrows.

Your eyes widened, "You think Hotch was mad at me because I took it? He offered it to me, and I was cold. You think he was just being polite or?"

Penelope rolled her eyes and aimed her fluffy pen at you, "You oblivious profiler! He's jealous!"

"Uh-no," You chuckled.

"You don't believe me? Look at this."

Photo: This photo was older than the first one and might've been your third or fourth year with the BAU team. It seemed like all of you had just ended a case. You were snuggled on the couch on the jet. Aaron was draping his jacket over you.

"Who took that picture?" You queried.

Penelope raised her hand, "I was going to check in on everyone, then the camera spotted it, and I took a screenshot because I couldn't help myself. I was going to tease you about it but forgot for a very, very, very, very long time until I saw that picture from our last team night out." She wiggled her eyebrows, a playful smile on her lips.

"Looks like our boss has a favorite," JJ sang softly, looking at you with a knowing smile.

Emily nudged you, noticing the blush on your face. "You've gotta admit that's very sweet of Hotch. I think he likes you wearing his jacket." She teased, poking your sides.

"He does that to everyone, though," You reasoned. If you recall, he had offered his jacket to many people before.

"Nope, no!" Penelope shook her head vigorously with a tight lip. "He offers it to some but gives it to you."

"We had a case where it was biting cold outside. Hotch offered to help me if I needed a jacket. I said no because of politeness and shit, but he didn't insist. He didn't even offer his jacket. He offered to give me time to return to my room and grab my jacket." Emily grimaced, obviously still holding a grudge regarding the incident.

"I've known Hotch for years. Giving out his jacket was only for emergencies. If it's the only choice he had. We've had cases where a victim was a little too exposed, and his solution was to wrap them with the newspaper he conveniently found." JJ exclaimed, sorting the manila folders on her chest.

You gave it some thought and considered every possibility, but you shook your head. "He's just being nice because he's my boss. Plus, I'm still a bit tense around the team." You straightened yourself, fixing your top.

Emily cackled, "Getting flat-out drunk with us is definitely you still a bit tense around us."

"You know what I mean," You defended, blushing.

The three exchanged looks and shrugged. If you wanted to turn a blind eye, then it was your choice. But they had a perfect theory and tried to test it out.

Aaron was heading to the elevator as you exited the bullpen. The three of them grinned.

"Going for girls night?" Aaron quipped, raising his eyebrows.

JJ frowned, "We were, but she's feeling sick. I think the cold's getting to her." She gave you a pitiful hug.

Your eyes blew wide, jerking your head behind you where the other two stood with maniac grins. You knew what JJ was doing. It didn't take a second for you to figure it out. And as if luck was on their side, the elevator dinged.

You followed their figures as they piled in in the lift. You glared at them, but Emily focused on the man beside you.

You gazed at Aaron and were met with his jacket stretched out to you. Your mouth fell open, unable to breathe.

"It's cold outside this time of night. You'll feel worse if you don't layer up." Aaron cleared his throat, "Take it."

You reached for his jacket so slowly that he took it in himself to wrap it around your shoulders. "Thank you," Your voice quivered, hesitantly stepping inside the elevator.

He followed, standing beside you. You could feel the three devils behind you, preparing yourself for their constant teasing.

Unbeknownst to any of you, Aaron was holding his breath in the hopes that none of you would notice his blushing ears.

Monday, May 16, 8:12PM

The entire day has been a drag. Besides the unsub being disgustingly great at hiding his tracks in the safety of your local area, your stomach had been giving you the worst time of your life.

Later in the evening, in Aaron's orders, everyone was sent home to get some rest and start fresh the next day.

You were thankful. You needed to rest from all the stomach-emptying vomit you did in the restroom. Your acid reflux was having a field day and didn't let you get a breath. You practically lived in the toilet. You even had to call Derek and ask him to put you on speaker so you could contribute to finding the unsub. Luckily, they didn't question it.

Emily retracted away as she exited your hug, "Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home? We practically live in this building. I don't think they'd mind you leaving your car here for a night."

A warm smile brightened your drained face, "Yes, I'm sure. Thanks for the offer." You bid her one last goodbye before heading to your own car.

Your head was down as the day's exhaustion finally caught up. Your senses were off. You walked as if time stopped. You wondered if you should've taken advantage of Emily's offer.

With your loud thoughts and vulnerable senses, a heart attack almost killed you when a sudden cage of warmth engulfed your body. For a moment, your body wanted to fight, but it didn't take long for you to remember the familiarity of this warmth.

"What took you so long?" His voice was gentle and comforting enough to put you to sleep immediately.

You looked up at Aaron, who refused to unwrap his arms around you, "I didn't know you were waiting. I thought you went home already. Isn't Jack waiting for you? It's movie night."

Aaron smiled, "I'm taking you to the hospital to get checked. Captain Jack's orders."

You couldn't help but smile as well. He held the door for the passenger seat before jumping to the driver's seat. As you watched him go around, you noticed his scent lingered on your shoulders.

Aaron placed his jacket on yours.

"You ought to be careful," A chuckle passed your lips, "The gals are onto you."

"Why?" Aaron looked at you with a confused expression. His face made you giggle. The genuineness of his expression made you wonder his reaction if you had said the same thing two years ago.

A grin glistened on your face, "They say Agent Hotchner has a crush on me." Your voice danced with playfulness.

Aaron copied your grin and shrugged, "I'm surprised they haven't figured it out after all these years." He turned his body to face you, "So? Do you like him back?"

If only the BAU team knew how their unit chief, the SSA Aaron Hotchner, was a lot friskier than they perceived him to be, Aaron wouldn't last a day from all the teasing.

Then you wondered how the BAU team would react if they found out you and Aaron have been dating for the past two years and successfully kept it a secret from everyone except Strauss and Rossi.

Or the number of questions you'd be bombarded with when they learn that you recently moved in together with Aaron and Jack. You knew well enough that the ladies would be interrogating you like a serial killer.

You shrugged, "I heard he's got a fiancée." You fished the necklace well hidden under your shirt. A golden ring band shaped like vines with an oval-cut blue moon diamond dangled on the chain.

"Yeah..." Aaron held your hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it, "You wouldn't want to be in the way of that." He smiled widely, an ever-loving expression you indulged yourself with for the past two years and soon... for a lifetime.

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (squint harder y'all), a lot of cussing (wouldn't be a bkg fic w/o 'em), reader has an ex-boyfriend, our boy kiri finally makes an appearance

words. 2.7k (i had to stop my head was aching)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

If you were to suddenly rise to fame overnight, for what reason would it be?

The answer you’ve always had for these silly icebreaker questions was simple. That one passion you’ve nurtured as a hobby, perhaps? Or the hidden talent—party trick, really—that your friends always goaded you into demonstrating during get-togethers? Or it could be getting recognized for the work that you do and how much of your soul you put into it.

Really, it could have easily been any of the three.

Which is why you couldn’t have seen this reality hurling straight at you even if it was waving a shining red flag at you from a safe distance.

You adjust the face mask that’s snug against your cheeks for the umpteenth time, vaguely aware of the child seated in front of you who’s also staring like he’s trying to make out who you’re supposed to be under the barrier.

Tamping down the annoyance springing in your gut over a kid occupying a precious chair in this crowded subway train during rush hour, you shift on your feet and tug down with your extra hand the hat that you quickly threw on on your way out this morning.

It was the least you could do after unceremoniously finding out through your best friend at 5:37 AM that you’ve become one of the Internet’s sensational hits overnight, now being dubbed as #2 Pro-hero Bakugou Katsuki’s heavy-handed girlfriend, emphasis on the heavy.

Needless to say, the news sent you into panic and you couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how hard you tried. Your emotions and thoughts went into overdrive, and you found yourself at the crack of dawn mulling over the options you had in front of you.

You knew you were grasping for straws when you started thinking about stealing someone else’s identity and moving far, far away from Japan where the concepts of pro-heroes and the World Wide Web were unbeknownst to the living population.

That pipeline got you nowhere.

Which leads you to the present: decked out in a flimsy disguise, horridly sleep-deprived, anxious as hell, squished between late salarymen and chatty high schoolers in a cramped train carriage, and subject to the increasingly scrutinizing stare of this kid in front of you.

To your relief, you arrive at your station before the child can put two and two together and expose you to the rest of the crowd. You quickly shuffle out and expertly weave yourself through the sea of people, desperate to get out of the public space and into the safety of Ground Riot agency.

Though your imagined bubble of safety is immediately popped the moment you enter the building and feel what has to be dozens of pairs of eyes on you.

You hurriedly scan your employee ID and head for the elevators, heaving a relieved sigh when no one follows you into the space.

It’s barely 8 AM, and you’re already drenched in sweat. You’re in the middle of wondering if you’re already sporting a fucking pit stain when your phone chimes its familiar tune, signifying a text message.

You peek at the notification banner to see Bakugou’s name, alongside a short directive.

(7:51 AM) Bakugou (Dynamight): Conference Room A—be there in 10. PR and the rest want to see both of us.

Fuck.

The room’s not empty by the time you stumble in seven minutes later. Hiramasa Hikari, your direct subordinate in charge of employee relations, is seated on one of the comfy office chairs circling the long, oval table, looking indubitably harrowed as she thumbs through an all-too-familiar booklet.

Wordlessly, you walk towards where she is and plop yourself down on the seat across from her, right on the side of the end-of-the-table throne where Bakugou usually plants his butt during meetings.

You might have moved a little too silently because she startles when she looks up and sees you looking at her like you don’t know what to say.

Because you don’t.

Instead, you flash her an uneasy smile, which she returns right back. Although it morphs into a frown, “I’m guessing we both recognize how comical the situation is right now?”

At that, both of your gazes drift to the said document, conveniently titled ‘Workplace Relationships: Policies and Protocols,’ with your name written underneath as one of the principal authors.

You purse your lips into a tight line, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit of shame spurring in your gut.

You wouldn’t call yourself militant when it comes to carrying out rules and regulations related to your job, but being on the receiving end of a lecture regarding workplace relationships is—for the lack of a better term—humbling.

Even if the whole thing that led you here is fake.

Before you can stutter out an appropriately vague enough response to your colleague, the glass doors open like flood gates and in comes Bakugou in his hero costume, followed by Mikuri (the PR head you’ve talked about during your meltdown), and a group of coworkers who you’ve identified as a portion of the agency’s legal team.

You and Hikari stand up at their arrival, and sure enough, Bakugou pulls out the seat to your right, barely sparing you a glance as he situates himself.

The rest quickly follow suit, the atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a meat cleaver.

Nobody says anything for a while before Hikari clears her throat awkwardly, evidently feeling self-conscious over speaking in front of her higher-ups. “I guess I can start, then?”

You give her an encouraging nod as if you’re not about to be roasted by the very same girl you’ve been training directly since she got recruited two years ago.

Hikari clears her throat again before fixing her firm gaze on you. “It has come to our attention that multiple news articles have been circulating since last night,” she pauses as her eyes dart between you and Bakugou, “about the two of you.”

A pregnant pause.

“…Care to explain?”

You can’t believe it. You’re about to expose yourself and this embarrassing stunt you pulled. And you can’t help the dread that courses through your system at the thought of admitting out loud how you roped in your boss, of all people, to pretend as your date so that you could hide from the ex who dumped you over the phone how much of a loser you are.

How much a loser you’ve become, the present moment in mind.

It couldn’t get any more pitiful than that.

But you have to face the truth, and you realize that time is running out fast as you survey the expectant looks directed at you one by one as if everything’s in slow motion.

Finally, you open your mouth to blurt it out and get it over with, but Bakugou beats you to it.

In fact, he doesn’t miss a beat.

Which is fucking astounding, because what he’s about to say next quite literally causes your jaw to drop.

“We’re dating,” he states, voice even. “There’s your explanation.”

The exact moment he says that outright, blatant lie, it’s like all the air in the conference room gets sucked into a vacuum. You find yourself feeling lightheaded and it takes everything in you not to collapse like a boneless heap on the lawyer beside you. You think Bakugou notices because his eyes shift to look at you, and his eyebrows furrow so minutely as if he’s telepathically saying ‘Get it together.’

And so you do.

You don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking, lying like this to the very people who need to know the truth to effectively clean up the mess you’ve inadvertently made in just one Sunday, but at this point, you know better than to contradict Bakugou’s words.

“We’re dating,” you parrot, voice wobbly, “…yes.”

You will yourself to look up from the clasped hands on your lap, only to immediately regret it. Some of the members of the legal team are staring at either Bakugou and you with straight-up disbelief, while the others toss you a playful wink. Hikari, Mikuri, and Sawamura, the lead lawyer, however, look unsettled at best.

“Since when,” Sawamura starts, although he sort of chokes on his spit. He clears his throat, “—since when has this been happening?”

The pro-hero’s reply is almost instantaneous. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

Ignoring Bakugou’s defensive retort, you instead jump in to respond as calmly as you can. “Around two months ago. When we worked late nights on that issue under Hikari’s unit. We, uh—” you chance a glance at Bakugou, who’s looking at you intently, “—we were actually planning to disclose it to HR today, if you can believe that.”

“And you punching the groom at the wedding you attended,” Mikuri suddenly adds, voice pointed. “Was that part of the plan, too?”

At the reminder of your act of sin, you visibly cringe in front of your colleagues. You hear Hikari hold back a snort, and you flush further in embarrassment.

To your surprise, Bakugou speaks up. “That was her dickhead of an ex, and he was being an asshole to her.” He grunts, “She was only defending her name.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but gawk at the man. The last thing you expected was for him to defend you. And so sincerely, at that. He could be a great actor.

“Well, regardless of the intentions, we have to deal with the act and its resulting consequences,” Sawamura sighs, before turning to face you. “We already briefed Bakugou on the way here but the guy and his family are threatening to sue for damages.”

“S-sue?” you choke out.

Mikuri nods solemnly in response. “I know Bakugou here wants to fight fire with fire by exposing the guy’s character but we believe it’s best to keep things as hush-hush as possible to prevent any more repercussions on his general popularity rating.” She gives you a once-over, “Would that be okay with you?”

You barely manage a nod, although she seemingly finds it more than enough.

“We’ve since been in contact with their lawyer and are on our way to a settlement,” the head lawyer packs on. “We’re scheduled to meet them in,” he checks his sports watch, “two hours.”

“In the meantime,” Mikuri interjects, “we might suggest you stay off your non-essential social media sites as we wait for the issue to die down.”

You nod again, failing to repress a weak laugh at the belated advice. “Don’t worry, I’m already on that.”

“In fact,” you quickly add before anyone else can interrupt you, “So much so that I don’t know what the hell is going on out there. How is Bakugou fairing in the ranks right now?”

Again, you feel the said man eyeing your side profile.

Mikuri cocks her head to the side in reflection, “Surprisingly, he’s holding up okay. We’ve had a marked increase in activity from the adolescent to young adult female demographic especially, but they’re all mixed reviews.”

At that, Bakugou sneers. “What am I, a fucking movie for these extras to rate?”

You snort, and now you see Bakugou side-eye you, although there’s no bite to it.

“Anyway,” Sawamura interjects, “That’s more or less it from us and PR as well, I believe. We’ll keep you both posted.” The man glances at Hikari, “Hiramasa-san, anything else from your department?”

“Oh, yes,” she quickly riffles through her documents before settling on the booklet from earlier and timidly handing it to Bakugou, who accepts it gingerly. “My supervisor here knows the guidebook by heart so you two should be good in keeping yourselves in check.”

Her eyes quickly dart to you as if to watch your reaction before they just as quickly dart back to Bakugou. “But just to reiterate, we strive to keep everything professional here at Ground Riot agency, so that means drawing a clear boundary between your work and personal lives. That also means no inappropriate PDA.”

“Tch.”

You gulp, feeling all sorts of weird all of a sudden. Accidentally demonstrating PDA with Bakugou should be the least of your worries but there’s no denying the pulse of anxiety that resonates at the mention of it.

After you and Bakugou begrudgingly agree to the terms and conditions, the meeting finally gets adjourned and your workmates pile out of the room one by one. You don’t realize how tense your shoulders are until you’re left alone with Bakugou, and you allow yourself one deep exhale.

Your boss, who’s still sporting a sour expression on his face, shifts his attention to you at the sound. You feel yourself shrink in a bit under his penetrating gaze, although you try to straighten your spine soon thereafter.

You take a few steps towards the doorway and peek through the hall for any bystanders. Once sure that you’re most definitely alone, you turn to Bakugou. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He’s not looking at you but his eyebrows furrow still, revealing his listening. He doesn’t say anything, though.

You continue. “It’s obviously bothering you that we’re keeping up this charade. Never mind your ranking potentially slipping, what about the stress of having to pretend and hearing people talk? You don’t need that on top of—”

“I don’t give a single fuck what people say about me.”

You knew that, yet you still frown at his tone. “But you give a fuck about being number one.”

At that, Bakugou finally moves to face you. “Look, I hate that I have to say this, but even if I had no dating scandal affecting my popularity rating, good or bad, all this doesn’t make a difference in helping me get past shitty De– Izuku, at least in a way that matters.”

He huffs before looking away to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “That popularity shit’s out of my control and has nothing to do with my abilities. The other metrics are.”

As you gaze at his back, you think about how image is in fact important when it comes to being the ultimate hero—mind drifting back to All Might and how he served as the pinnacle of safety with his powers and impactful symbolism. But then it gravitates to Endeavor and how, despite his far from amiable personality akin to that of Bakugou’s, he earned the people’s trust in his own way as the new #1 upon All Might’s retirement.

“Okay,” you exhale again, “I believe you. Still doesn’t explain why you seem so bothered, though.”

Bakugou immediately whips around to look at you, frustration etched on his pretty features. “Why did that jackass even invite you in the first place?”

That’s what’s bothering him?

You chuckle, although what you’re about to say probably isn’t a laughing matter. “I think it’s because he saw me as a charity case,” you pause, debating whether or not to tell him the embarrassing truth, eventually opting to do so. “He always made me feel like I should thank my lucky stars I scored him, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was doing me a favor by inviting me to his wedding.”

“…You know you can do better than that dipshit, right?”

You smile despite yourself, “I know… That’s why I’m dating you, right?”

You only meant to lighten the mood after what has been a grueling, impromptu meeting, but you didn’t expect Bakugou to redden in what you think is annoyance at the innocent quip.

You immediately backtrack. “I was just—trying to, uh—’m just joking around…”

Bakugou doesn’t get the chance to potentially snap at you in irritation because Kirishima, Red Riot, waltzes in with a big, toothy grin on his face.

He beams at you then turns to regard his best friend, grin growing even more in size as if that was still possible.

And what he says next confuses the shit out of you and grants him a hard shove from your now fake boyfriend.

“Congrats, Bakubro! Freaking finally!”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are much appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day~

[st4rfckerz]

2:37 am | stepbro!anakin x reader (pt. 1)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: MDNI 18+, dubcon, stepcest, dry humping, slight aftercare, dead dove do not eat.

summary: during a sleepless night, your stepbrother, anakin comes to your aid.

a/n: this is inspired by a video i saw on twitter AND a dream i had, so i just had to write about it.

pt. 2 here

you never expected your father to remarry after your parents' divorce. but much to your surprise, your father did just that. not only did he remarry, but he also brought a new family into your life - a stepbrother named anakin.

you quickly learned that anakin had a troubled past. he's always got some new story about a friend getting arrested, an incident involving drugs or something else. despite his antics, you couldn't help but find him attractive, his messy hair, constant teasing, and his intense gaze all got you feeling hot under the collar. but you knew he was off-limits as he was your stepbrother, and your feelings for him were something you tried hard to suppress.

it was another sleepless night. you were reading a book in bed, trying to get your mind off the fact that sleeping is just not something your body wants to do. you were wide awake.

you set the book down and looked at the clock that stayed on your nightstand.

2:37 am.

you let out a heavy sigh, then you set the book down and leaned back in your bed, trying your best to focus back on the book. but, as always, your mind was elsewhere.

your thoughts were abruptly interrupted as you heard a few light knocks at your bedroom door.

"who else could be awake this late?" you thought to yourself. after placing your book on your bed, you went to open the door. you slowly open it and raise your head to see anakin.

"you're still up." anakin says in a whisper, his voice quiet and deep. the faint glow of your lamp's warm light illuminated his face, displaying a small grin pulling at his lips. anakin crosses his arms and leans against your doorframe.

"couldn't sleep," you respond softly, trying to keep your voice quiet. "what about you?" you try not to feel intimated as anakin's eyes carefully scanned yours. although his body was slumped slightly against the wall, he still appeared to be towering over you.

"couldn't sleep either, can i come in?" he asks. you stepped to the side, out of his way, and watched as he walked slowly into your room. anakin glanced around your room as you silently closed your door. his gaze lands on the book lying on your bed.

"catcher and the rye?" anakin asked curiously. smirk on his face and his eyebrow raised. he flips through a few pages before taking a seat on the side of your bed.

"i've read about five chapters tonight," you sigh, taking a seat next to him. "still not tired."

anakin snickered quietly before sitting down next to you. he gave you a look that was difficult to interpret until he spoke again.

"it's your little boyfriend again, isn't it?" anakin said as he shifted in his seat. it was as if he was trying to find a more comfortable position to be in. his knee accidentally knocked yours, making your body tense up slightly. he knew exactly what he was doing.

"yeah," you huff defeatedly. "there's just been a lack of communication i guess." you look down at your fingers that rest on your lap, avoiding anakin's lingering gaze.

you often complained to anakin about your boyfriend and how you felt he was treating you unfairly. anakin didn't like your boyfriend and he would often tease you, hinting at how he felt about him. anakin secretly wished that he could have your attention instead.

a small chuckle erupts from anakin's throat. "he doesn't fuck you." he says bluntly. you quickly snap your head up, your wide eyes meeting his. your silence speaks volumes, your attempt to find words faltering before they even leave your lips. the room fills with a charged tension as your face turns hot and pink, a flush of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks.

"maybe." you reply quietly as you look back down at your lap. as embarrassing as it was, you knew anakin wasn't wrong. your boyfriend never made you cum. ever.

anakin knew immediately what he was doing to you. in fact, anakin knew exactly what was really going on in your mind and it was a bit too obvious. he could tell you were sexually frustrated by the way you always avoided his intense eye contact and how you blushed nearly everytime he'd speak to you.

"when was the last time you came?" anakin asks. he drops his head down lower, you could feel his breath on your neck as he spoke.

"i-i don't know." you stutter. your heart begins to race as anakin interrogated you. anakin's eyes moved up and down your body. he saw how nervous you were starting to get and he liked it.

"poor girl, must be really frustrating, hm?" his lips come even closer to your ear, so close that they're almost brushing against your skin. "i can fix that..." he whispers.

"anakin, what are you talking about?" you lean your body away from his.

anakin saw that you tried to lean away but he stopped you. with a firmer grip, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. he lowered his lips to your ear again and spoke.

"you know what i'm talking about, and you know exactly what i can help you with." he purred with a sly smile. "i've seen the way you look at me." you feel his hand slowly traveled towards your exposed thighs.

"anakin sto-" anakin was relentless. you tried to push him away and he fought back. anakin's hand tightened on the side of your face, gripping your chin with force. his lips pressed firmly against yours. your mind went blank and for a moment and you felt a certain excitement building up inside you, despite the fact that you felt guilty about what you were doing. you tried to think of your boyfriend and how this would only make things worse, but those thoughts slowly faded away. you wanted this.

anakin's firm hold on your jaw started to relax as his lips devoured yours. as the kiss continued, his arm that was tightly wrapped around your waist was released and his hand traveled towards your thigh once again, his fingers gently rubbing the skin.

"just let me help." anakin spoke in a slightly deeper, more enticing tone than before. you felt his warm breath on your skin as he softly kissed down your neck, his tongue slowly making its way up your neck. his hand moved to your hair, gently rubbing the back of your head as you felt his fingers slowly creep towards your inner thigh. your veins are filled with an increased level of arousal, and you can feel it pooling in your panties.

the sound of your heart pumping and adrenaline coursing through your body overwhelmed your thoughts. the need to become as close to anakin as possible overtook everything else.

anakin brought you both higher up on your bed and you lay on top of him, his hands wrapping around your arms as he pulled you closer. his lips tasted so sweet and as soon as your tongues met, you felt a rush of sensations, like never before. your breath was taken and your heart pounded in your chest. he moaned softly and you felt him grasp at your hips, pulling you closer to him.

anakin's hands slowly slide down your waist. with a firm and assertive touch, he begins to skillfully remove your shorts, his fingers deftly unfastening the garment and sliding it down your legs.

the sensation of cool air against your exposed skin only intensifies the heat that envelopes them. the tingling anticipation courses through your veins as you remain seated on anakin's lap, your kiss unbroken.

anakin's touch is both possessive and tender, his hands trailing up your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

he pulls away from the kiss before speaking again, "lift yourself up." he said in a soft and low voice, a slight smile forming on his face. you did as he asked and he quickly removed his black, plaid pajama pants. anakin's boxer-clad erection protruded against the fabric, stealing your attention.

"eyes up here, angel." he teases with a knowing smile playing on his lips. anakin's gaze held yours captive, his dark eyes filled with an irrepressible hunger. he pulls you back over towards him, his body against yours.

as you settle back down against anakin's bulge, a soft, involuntary moan escapes your lips.  the sensation of his throbbing length pressing against your drooling cunt sends a jolt of arousal through your body, a sweet ache of desire stirs your senses.

a smug grin dances upon anakin's lips as he observes your reaction, relishing in the control he holds over you.

"just follow me." he whispers. you had no words to say and did as he instructed. you nodded your head to let him know that you heard and understood him. with a firm but gentle touch, anakin's hands find their way to the small of your back, guiding your movements and synchronizing your rhythm. a low, throaty moan escapes his lips.

"fuck." anakin breathes out.

with each rut of your hips, the pleasure builds, your bodies moving in sync. the friction between you and anakin heightens the sensations pulsing through your bodies. a wet patch grows on your panties, a clear sign of your arousal.

anakin's eyes beam with amusement as he grazes his fingertips along the damp fabric.

"god, look at that," he purrs. his touch is feather-light, tracing the outline of the wet patch, sending shivers of anticipation through your body. "you're killing me." anakin lulls his head back against your headboard, catching his bottom lip in between his teeth. his eyes were glued to the way your hot pussy rocked so deliciously against his throbbing cock.

your head hangs low, and your breaths become shallow and little whimpers escape your parted lips.

"feel good?" anakin asks. you nod your head in response. "use your words baby." his words send a spark of electricity down to your core.

"y-yes, feels s'good ani." you pant. anakin groans quietly when he hears you refer to him by his nickname.

"that's my girl." he coos. with a sudden flick of his wrist, anakin lifts up your small shirt, exposing your breasts to him. anakin's lips latch onto one of your exposed nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. he alternates between gentle sucks and flicks of his tongue, coaxing the sweetest moans from your lips. simultaneously, his free hand palms the other breast, squeezing and massaging it with a firm grip. your back arches instinctively, pushing your chest further into his mouth as you drown in the sensations he evokes.

"ani, i'm close," you whimper as you feel that long forgotten coil begin to form in the pit of your stomach.

anakin removes his big hand from your nipple and returns it to the fat of your thigh. your bodies move in sync, the rhythm building with a fervent need. anakin's grip on your thighs remain unyielding, his strength displaying the control he holds over the both of you.

"let it go angel, cum for me." anakin mewls. you could tell he was close to his own orgasm by the way his stomach repeatedly flexed under your hands.

the knot in your stomach finally snaps, releasing a wave of pleasure that courses through your body. a loud, unrestrained moan escapes your lips, but before the sound can fully escape into the air, anakin's hand swiftly clamps across your mouth, muffling the sound.

"shhh, we don't need anyone hearing us." anakin whispers. as the sound is stifled, anakin's own release crashes over him. his body tenses, muscles contracting as he spills his seed into his boxers.

"s-shit," a string of filthy whimpers escape anakin's lips. you take in deep, ragged breaths, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure.

anakin gently brushes a strand of your sweaty hair away from your forehead, his touch tender and reassuring. he can feel the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you breathe heavily, your body slowly coming down from the intensity of your shared orgasm. anakin's arms instinctively tighten around your waist as you rest your forehead against his shoulder.

"you feel better?" anakin's voice, quiet and breathy, breaks through the silence that envelops the room.

"so much better." you respond with a light chuckle. anakin gently tugs you away from his shoulder. his eyes locking onto the dampness spreading across your underwear. the sight of the wet spot elicits a mischievous smirk from his lips.

"yeah i can tell." he jokes. his fingers trail along the edges of the wet patch, the fabric damp and clinging to your sensitive skin.

"here, let me help you with these." after easing you off of him and onto your feet, anakin sits on the side of the bed. he helps you take off your stained panties, his touch gentle and considerate, his fingers sliding under the fabric to ease it down.

anakin's gaze lingers for a moment, taking in the sight of your glistening folds. with a shaking breath, he quickly turns around, his heart pounding as he retrieves his pajama pants. facing away from you, he slips them back on, his movements slightly hurried as he tries to regain his composure. anakin's pants hang loosely on his hips, the fabric draping casually over his slender frame.

you change into clean underwear and pull on your discarded shorts that resided on the ground. the soft fabric glides against your skin, providing a gentle caress that contrasts with the electric tension that still lingers in the air.

as you turn back around, you see anakin holding your soaked underwear in his hands. you felt embarrassed and awkward at this moment yet anakin's face was filled with a slight smile.

"i'll put these in the laundry room for you." he smiles as he makes his way towards you. a wave of comfort sweeps over you as anakin pulls the cozy comforter over your body after you climb into bed. you feel safe in anakin's presence, his protective nature always made your chest feel fuzzy.

leaning down, anakin's lips press against your forehead. the weight of his lips against your skin sends a jolt of warmth through your body, a sweet sensation that lingers even after his touch is gone.

"thank you, ani." your voice was soft, and almost innocent, considering what had just occurred in your room. anakin turns on his heel, making his way towards the door. the sight of his retreating figure stirs a whirlwind of emotions within you.

anakin steps into the hallway, he glances back, his eyes meeting yours displaying a glint of affection.

"sleep well sis." anakin smiles and closes the door behind him, leaving you snuggled comfortably in your bed.

he locked the door after leaving you to sleep and walked straight into his room, not even taking a look at the laundry room.

as you fell asleep, you wondered how this would affect your relationship and you hoped that anakin wouldn't tell anyone. you thought back on the event, still flushed with guilt, yet something about it felt different. something felt good about it, despite its wrong-ness.

[kiyoomi-levin]

Morning Routine pt.1 [nsfw]

(Wakatoshi Ushijima x F!Reader)

a/n this is something i wrote and edited today in a single run >.< I wanted to release a haikyuu fluff fic for my tumblr debut but i was just possessed by something this morning and rolled outta bed and just typed this up hehe.. reblogs and comments appreciated!! i have like 12 unfinished works rn and i am busting my ass off to get those finished and published! please be on the lookout for more from me!

summary:: wakatoshi has a bad habit-- his morning routine revolves around you. more specifically, cumming to the sounds of you. warnings:: wakatoshi is highkey a creep/stalker but this fic is fluffy i promise music rec!:: 2fast by superm <AKA the song i listened to when writing> word count:: 1.9k

6:33 AM, the blinking clock reads. 

He doesn’t even need an alarm now. 

Silently, Wakatoshi rolls over, reaches over to his nightstand and grasps the two items he needs most– lube and toilet paper. 

Sighing, he sits himself up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and, as if awaiting instructions, goes very, very still. 

In a way, he is waiting for orders. You just aren’t aware that you’re the one giving them. 

6:34 AM. A mere minute before you’re up and he can get started with his day. It doesn’t feel right, yet he can’t stop. Shaking his head, Wakatoshi shifts his weight around, impatient. 

I should stop. 

There it is. That nagging voice of reason that scolds him every morning. But really, at this point, he can’t function normally without you. 

There’s a certain amount of stress that comes with carrying the title of ace. All the papers praising his skills, cheering fangirls, and words of encouragement from coach only added to the ever growing expectations that people had for him. 

Luckily, when he was a senior in high school, Wakatoshi had discovered what best alleviates this pressure– not meditation, not Tendo’s comics, but sexual relief. 

Every morning, a quick handjob does the job, gets him into prime condition. He even checked with his primary doctor to ensure it’s safe and healthy to release everyday– “you’ll be fine, Wakatoshi, as long as you don’t consume too much porn,” the old man had advised kindly. 

He took the doctor’s words to heart– since he had discovered this method of relief, Wakatoshi had never viewed porn. Some of his teammates laughed at him when they found out he almost religiously avoids it, but he doesn’t want to contaminate his brain with potentially intrusive or disturbing visions. His imagination has always been enough, after all. 

Until he met you.

In a way, you’re both a blessing and a curse– probably the latter, he admits to himself. Because since he’d met you months ago, the only thing that’s been able to get him up is you. 

He’s never slept so well, his skin has never looked so clear, and, most importantly, his condition on court has never been better. He’s considered the possibility of you being a goddess, or possibly his guardian angel and can only rule those out with the fact that you, like him, masturbate. 

More accurately, masturbate. Every. Single. Morning. 

Then he hears it. The first soft moan. Wakatoshi glances at the time– 6:37 AM. You’re getting a slightly late start today. 

No matter. He lifts his hips, gently rolls down his gray sweats to his lower thigh. He’s already hard. He doesn’t even have to touch himself now to get excited. Your quiet voice and the thoughts of you are enough.

Poor you. You’re unaware that despite residing in a luxurious, single-person room reserved for school athletes, the walls are criminally thin. 

Wakatoshi pops open the lid of the lube, squirting a glob into his warm hand. He throws aside the bottle, barely registering as it bounces off the bed, only intent on listening into the sounds of you and your body. 

When he first grasps his cock, he has to hold back a groan. Despite it being an everyday routine, he still feels the same surge of pleasure as when he first started this nasty habit months ago. 

You're breathing slightly more heavily now, and he hears the sounds of your fingers inserting and exiting your body at a familiar pace. He follows along, carefully stroking up and down. 

He wonders where you’ve learned this from, because you always go at the perfect pace. Somedays, you go slower, teasing yourself, pausing just before you orgasm, but it’s always. 

It’s always exactly what he needs.

God. He knows this is wrong, even as he pumps faster with his left hand to keep up with your quick fingers. It feels so good. 

Next door, you’re beginning to let out soft cries.

He presses his thumb against the tip, holding back a moan of his own as he envisions you jerking him off. 

He’s seen your hand before– extra soft from being in gloves for multiple hours daily as a fencer. 

Thinking about your sport has him thinking about his, and now he’s back to thinking about how wrong this is. But he can’t help it, he’s already tried to give it up once– yielding horrible results. 

The day he held back and skipped a morning fap session with you was also the hardest day of his life. He had found himself unable to focus in lecture, especially grumpy towards Tendo’s typically bearable antics, and worst of all, all his hits were off. 

“Your schedule must be off,” his captain had said, casually tossing a ball high into the air.

“Bad sleep? Rough morning?” 

Wakatoshi had blinked at him wordlessly, wondering how the tall setter had guessed accurately. 

“It’s fine,” the third-year had reassured him, “just get back on track tomorrow.”

With that, Wakatoshi had found himself ‘back on track,’ masturbating with– no, to you– every morning. 

You’re moaning out loud now, almost whimpering. His cock pulses in his hands, veins bulging, growing hotter and heavy. Fuck, he just wants to see you right now. Your cute face, your sexy neck, gorgeous arms... 

He can almost see it now– your smooth thighs shaking and twisting as your small hands would grasp your pillow. He’d make you feel so good, he just knows it. He’d lean against you, kiss your neck and ear before whispering how good you are, how you’re making him cum, how much he loves you! 

You’d cum, and he wouldn’t stop. He’d want to see your eyes roll back over and over again, and he’d memorize every inch of your face.

Wakatoshi holds back another groan. His fisted hand feels so good against his cock, especially as it imagines it’s your tight pussy. 

Contrary to what Tendo believes (the only one to know about this bad habit) it wasn’t just your soft moans and quiet gasps that had him clenching his sheets as he lifted his hips.

He had long fallen for you, since you had first locked eyes with him in the long hallway. 

There was something about you. The way you always smile up at him gently– not in the way that other girls smile at him, as if they want something (usually his number)– but a genuine smile, eyes crinkling slightly.  

This unexpected attraction was only exacerbated when you sat next to him at the first-years’ dinner party. You smelled so fucking good and listened to his words with actual interest, asking him about his family and laughing at his lame jokes.

Unfortunately, he was also scared. 

He had heard about the countless rejections you’d dished out since the first day of university. 

Despite his perceived sexual ignorance, Wakatoshi knew everything there was to know– he was popular, too, in his own right. Tall and lean, there were girls throwing themselves on him left and right. 

But he only wanted you. 

Today, he must be extra stressed (especially with that upcoming psychology exam that he hasn’t studied for yet) because he’s so, so close, yet can’t seem to finish. 

Fine then. 

He leans over, grabs his cell phone. He only does this in emergency cases, which occurs about once or twice a month. 

Swiping up, he’s greeted by his photo gallery, opened the night prior for this cause. 

In his locked gallery awaits dozens of photos of you. 

Obviously none were taken by him! 

Wakatoshi’s a creep, but one with manners and boundaries. 

This gallery is cluttered with headshots of you from the school’s official website, silly photos of you that were sent into the college athlete’s group chat, and his favorite– photos of you from your close friend who sells them to him at fair prices, starting at $10 minimum. 

None are suggestive. But they still rile him up, maybe because the only connection he has with you is through your early morning activities. 

Wakatoshi desperately taps on the newest picture he bought for $40, quadruple the usual price– he can hear your breath hitching, and he knows you’re almost done. 

He wants to finish with you so bad. 

He was going to save this picture for next week, when he knows you’ll be gone for the fencing nationals and he’ll have to cum without you for an entire miserable, dreadful, god-forsaken week–

but he doesn’t care now. Nothing matters. 

It’s a glorious photo– when he heard your friend had it, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded a price. 

You. On the beach. Under an umbrella. Lying on a purple towel.

He had paid an extra ten dollars for the motion picture– so he could watch you go from ass up onto your back, breasts jiggling and cheeky smirk in full action.

That’s enough. 

He holds his fist tight–one more pump and he’s finished, but he wants to make sure you’re cumming first– and he hears it– to his relief, you’re moaning and whispering– “‘m cumming!” 

Yeah, he’s cumming too. His hips lift again, and he drags his closed fist downwards against his wet cock. His vision blurs. 

“Fuck!” 

He can’t help it, today’s orgasm is especially strong, taking control of his full body. He’s shaking, mind barely in control as he continues to slowly pump to ride out the whole orgasm. After all, that’s what you’d do, right? You’d keep riding him, even as he finished and begged you to stop. 

Thank God we came together.

Sometimes, you bait him. More often than he likes, you switch it up, holding yourself back and not allowing yourself to cum before masturbating all over again for an even more powerful orgasm. Those days suck– when he’s already softening, cum all over his large hands, and you’re still going. 

He hears your bed squeak, and he sighs– as soon as it starts, it’s already over.

6:45 AM, his phone reads. Wakatoshi tosses it aside.

Thankfully, he had pulled his phone away in time, avoiding tainting the device with his release. A few times a month, he gets careless and cums onto an open picture of you, causing him to have to run through his shower extra fast so he can leave time to wipe down the device.

Rolling off the bed, he heads towards the shower leisurely. It’s also become a part of his routine to time his shower. It makes him feel even more intimately connected to you. 

Wakatoshi’s grateful you take long showers– you’ve never taken less than 24 minutes to shower, typically, they last about 34 minutes on average. That gives him the time to jump out first and wait to exit his room at the same time you depart from yours. 

Under the heat of warm water, he’s usually consumed with thoughts of you, impossible thoughts, like maybe you know. 

The wall between you and him is equally thin, and your hearing may be as equally good as his…

Maybe you know, and you like masturbating with him. 

And then, just as a precaution, he douses himself with cold water at the end of his shower, and those thoughts dissipate with the steam escaping towards the vent. 

Like everyday, Wakatoshi laces his shoes, sprays on his favorite cologne (that your friend claims you like) and inhales, bracing himself to see you. 

As he hears your feet shuffle, he pushes his door open first, stepping out into the warm hallway.

“Good morning, Wakatoshi!” You greet, eyes brightening. He nods, gulping. That’s an acceptable form of greeting, right?

As the two of you walk towards the elevator in silence, Wakatoshi can’t help but hope that this morning routine won’t be coming to a stop anytime soon. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n and that's a wrap :,) i really hope you liked and sorry the ending is highkey shit LOL as i kept editing i kept adding and removing more and more and honestly that's kind of my biggest weakness:: i'm never satisfied with my work and i'm scared ppl won't like it ... but i'm trying to overcome that!

[billericious]

starry-eyed lover, the one that you saw | b.e

collateral - pt 1

The brightness of your screen illuminates your face, highlighting the tears that stream down your cheek. Breath caught in your throat as you read the notification. 

Billie Hey

You didn’t know what to do next. Would you seem desperate if you answered immediately? The last thing you wanted her to know was that you yearned for missed her, despite being the one that had ended what you guys had. This is what you wanted, what you prayed for. Why do you feel so conflicted now that you have it? 

This is real. She texted you, and you’re not dreaming. She contacted you, as if she was some sort of manifestation after a night of thinking of her. Could she still feel you, feel your emotions like they were her own? Have you been clouding her mental like she was clouding yours? So many questions to ask, and now you have the chance to do so. You click on the notification, opening up the message. Your finger shook as you carefully typed a response, scared that you would mess up something so simple.

Y/N Hey  Read 4:37 AM

Tears brimmed your eyes as she opened your message immediately. Anxiety bubbled in your stomach, awaiting a response. You shut your phone off in an attempt to soothe yourself, mind wandering as you do so.

“Hello?” you answer the phone. You hear Billie's voice on the other end. “Do you ever answer texts, baby?” your heart flutters at the pet name as you pull the device away from your ear and check your notifications, seeing multiple messages from ‘Billie :p’. “Whoops?” she laughs at your response, rubbing her eyes “you’re lucky i love you y/n, but back to why i called. What do you want snack wise for our movie night?”  

You smile, remembering the mini date night you had planned with her. “Nothing in particular…but y’know, if they just happen to have zombie takiss” you respond, exaggerating the ‘s’. “Oh well of course, can't go an october without having them at least once."

She was you in another body, a perfect match. “Well hurry bils, I miss you.”

“Just gotta check out, then I'll be heading home to you, love.” you both say I love you and end the call. There's a comforting warmth in your stomach that fights with the never ending dread. The dread of knowing she isn’t really yours, and you aren’t really hers. 

You’re brought back from the memory with the vibration of your phone. A text back.

Billie  I’ve been meaning to reach out, are you busy? If not, would you mind calling?

Your head spins at her message. For the first time in months, you would finally be having a real conversation with Billie. Were you even ready? You don't give yourself much time to answer your own thoughts as your body goes into autopilot, clicking on the small Call button on the top of the screen.

Ring

The reality of the situation hits you all at once, holding your breath as the phone continues

Ring

Was she messing with you? Would she even answer?

Ring

“Hey.” you feel your heart skip a few beats as her smooth voice greets you on the other end of the call. You finally let out the breath you had been holding, feeling lightheaded in the process. “Hey, Billie.” A silence falls over the call, obvious that the both of you had no idea what to say next.

“Why’d you wanna call?” a sudden confidence washes over you, motivated to understand why now. “In all honesty, I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to check in on you. To hear your voice.” she mumbles the last sentence, slightly hoping you didn’t hear her correctly. But you did, of course you did. Anxiety so high, hyper focused on everything she was saying.

“I’m doing…” you falter for a second, do you tell the truth or lie to save yourself from any embarrassment? You decide the latter would be a safer choice. “I’m doing okay, Billie. How are you? I’ve seen you, your promotions for the album.” Billie lets out a soft laugh at that, a rosy hue painted on her cheeks. She had completely forgotten who she was as soon as she picked up the phone. Too distracted by you to remember or focus on anything else around her.

“I’m uh, I'm good too.” it’s your turn to laugh, wet eyelashes laying on your cheeks as you close your eyes. “Good, I’m glad. You deserve it, I'm sure you’ve been working hard.” you say, trying to figure her out without trying to seem pushy. “Yeah, it’s been a lot. It’s different without you, though”

“Am i that ever lasting, Billie?” you say playfully, speaking to her never felt foreign despite it all. Immediately falling back into the groove you left on, before the argument. For a second, you almost forget why you had wanted her to leave in the first place. “God, you know you are.” she teases you slightly as you get flustered at her words. She continues, “I’m gonna be going on my press tour soon, and i just wanted to see you before I left. If that's possible, of course.”

You know you shouldn’t. You know that you would fall back into her immediately, sacrificing the little amount of healing you had made during the time of no contact. Your heart betrays your rational thinking, “Yeah, that’d be nice. It’d be nice to see you.” 

“Okay. I’ll plan, and I’ll text you the info, yeah?” “Yeah Billie, that sounds good.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, alright? I gotta go. Bye, y/n.” you wait a few seconds, waiting for the ‘I love you’ before remembering, it’s not like how it used to be. You quickly muster up your own response.

���Okay, bye Billie.” the disconnect sound echoes soon after. You look at her contact,

a smile creeping onto your face. You're not exactly happy, but not sad. Just shocked that this is finally happening. You don’t know what to anticipate. All you could do was hope for the best, even though you didn’t even know what the best is. A notification pops up at the top of your screen.

Billie Saturday @ 3. Cafe lunch. I’ll pick you up

Just hope for the best.

౨ৎ maze speaks !

im so sorry for the wait guis :< this is whack and filler, dont be too harsh pls im still getting the hang of this :p but seriously, thank you for all the motion on collateral my loverlies<3

tags: @luvforbills

౨ৎ౨ৎ౨ৎ౨ৎ send an ask ! always open<3

[chanranghaeys]

👼 a regular korean citizen

request from my love, tara (@diamonddaze01)! “one waking up before the other, so they make up their side of the bed and can’t help but tuck in their sleeping lover as they do so” with jeonghan pls and thank u i miss my husband

pairing: idol!active duty!jeonghan x gn!reader word count: 817 genre: fluff, slice of life rating: pg tags: sleepy couple, morning musings, mainly an imagine of sorts, reader is tired bc of work, mentions of active korean military duty are NOT accurate and i do not claim their accuracy so please bear with my descriptions i rly did just make them up as i went warnings: none

a/n: thank u lovely tara! i indeed got out of the dreaded writing slump. and it’s my first time writing jeonghan so i hope i did him justice for u!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Jeonghan distinctly remembers going to sleep on his own with no one else on the bed. It was a pleasant surprise for him to see you on the other side when he rolled over.

If there was anything he enjoyed most about being an active member of the Korean military, it was that he was not subject to the grueling demands of an idol’s schedule. He could just be a regular Korean citizen—something he hasn’t had the luxury to experience in about a decade.

He couldn’t say the same for you, though, who also worked in the entertainment industry with hours just as long as his used to be. It was evident in the way you were sprawled over the bed, caring less about how you looked and how you ended up sleeping. Your neck was in such an awkward position compared to your body that Jeonghan was so sure you’d wake up with a stiff neck, and he would not allow that.

He knew you were as much of a light sleeper as he was. And as much as he wanted to caress your face or smooth down your hair, he shouldn’t for fear of waking you up from a much-deserved slumber.

But he wasn’t Yoon Jeonghan, part-time troublemaker, for nothing. And he missed you, as he did every day, so what other reason could there be to justify him not holding the love of his life as dearly as he wanted to?

You must’ve been absolutely drained because you didn’t even react at the gentlest of his touches. Jeonghan smiled and continued his soft strokes on your head. A forehead kiss did merit the slightest reaction from you—an automatic one where you seemed to involuntarily lean into the touch of his lips making contact on your skin.

He smirked. If only you could see it and how much it gave away how smug he felt to see you still craving for his touch. He checked the time from the standard military watch on his hand—5:37 am. It was time for him to get up.

He checked his phone, tapping into your work calendar to see your schedule. You still had a few hours of sleep left before your shoot scheduled for 1 pm. That was good, he thought, you need all the rest before another chaotic variety show shoot until whatever ungodly hour of the night.

The military discipline easily merged with Jeonghan’s idol discipline. It may not be the same for all fellow idols on active duty, but others have mentioned how similar both were. It was the implicit and discrete need for order and organization that both disciplines shared. It made sure everything was clean-cut and picture-perfect for idols on screen, and that everyone followed uniform standards with a code of conduct for active soldiers to learn.

Jeonghan was used to it. And such disciplines included even the simplest task of making the bed. He fluffed his pillow, he fixed the sheets he messed up on his side with a military tuck—and you didn’t even budge. You were out cold.

Jeonghan huffed a sigh, running his hands through his short-cropped hair—something he was still getting used to. “Aigoo-yaaaaa” was all he said with all the endearment in his heart.

He shuffled over to your side and, as gently as he could, fixed your sleeping position to avoid that impending stiff neck of yours. He also fixed the clothes already riding up in places because of how haphazardly you put them on. Thankfully, you remembered to remove your makeup before going to sleep this time. He was almost late for duty the last time he stayed to carefully remove it for you while you slept.

Carefully, he fluffed up your pillow and fixed the sheets as much as possible. He opened up the blanket and let it rest on your sleeping figure. He so badly wanted to engulf you in a warm embrace, but he loved tucking you in and seeing your relaxed expression just as much.

He left one final parting gift: a kiss on your cheek. Okay, maybe more than one gift—another kiss, a light brush of his lips on yours.

Jeonghan’s military enlistment allowed him to be a regular Korean citizen. That just gave him more opportunities to spend time with you and treat you the way a regular Korean citizen would. It was a welcome break for your relationship if it meant he could love you without all of the lights and cameras and judgmental eyes in the way.

Walking from the bedroom to the kitchen, he checked his phone once again and opened the calendar app. Peering at the time block for 7 pm later, he made sure his schedule and yours was a free time block. He couldn’t wait to share the wild stories about him and his fellow military men that would have to wait until tonight.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

post a/n: still accepting requests for my little drabble request game! all you gotta do is shoot an ask <3

post post a/n: svt won TWO daesangs at mama 2024 today!! HUHU i am proud of my bois (∩˃o˂∩)♡

[thebunnednun]

Toast 5.

Pairing: Aged up!ProHero!Katsuki Bakugou x Ex!Pro hero!Reader

Katsuki talks to the daughter he never knew he had.

Summary:

Why is it that we never expect betrayal from the person closest to us?

Songs:

Like Him Me and your Mama

“Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep—”

Katsuki stirred awake in the dim light of Kirishima’s guest room, his body sinking into the mattress beneath the weight of lingering sleep.

His eyes, half-lidded and drowsy, fixed on the ceiling above, tracing the faint patterns in the plaster. The soft glow from his phone screen had faded hours ago, but the image of your contact picture lingered in his mind like an afterimage burned into his retinas. His fingers twitch slightly, the memory of scrolling through your messages and photos before sleep overtook him still fresh in his consciousness.

He blinked slowly, his lashes brushing against his skin as he wiped away the drool that had pooled at the corner of his mouth and the crust clinging to his eyes. His brain was sluggish, wrapped in a haze of sleep that refused to clear easily. He groaned, the sound low and gravelly in the quiet room, as he considered moving, pushing himself up, starting his day.

But the thought of leaving the cocoon of warmth his bed provided felt insurmountable.

A glance at the digital alarm clock perched on the nightstand told him it was 4:48 AM. Normally, he’d be up by now, heading to the shower before joining Kirishima for their morning training. It was a routine they both adhered to with a near-religious fervor. But today, the idea of dragging himself out of bed felt like a monumental task. He could hear the faint murmur of the television from the living room, the familiar cadence of the weather reporter detailing the muggy, 37-degree morning.

Katsuki exhaled heavily, his breath a soft whisper against the stillness of the room. His gaze drifted toward the window, where the sky remained a dark grey, a sliver of light just beginning to creep along the horizon. The weight of his duty pressed against him, a familiar companion that urged him to rise, to face the day, to protect the citizens of Japan. He had made a promise to meet you, and that promise gnawed at the back of his mind, a persistent reminder of the obligations he could not shirk.

Right now, just for a moment, he allowed himself the indulgence of five more minutes. 

Five minutes to sink back into the warmth of the blankets, to close his eyes and pretend that the world outside didn’t exist. 

Five minutes to gather his strength before he stepped into the cold reality of his life.

Five more minutes to dream about you.

The dim light from your phone screen cast a faint glow across the room as you scrolled through another article, eyes scanning lines of text that felt more like a blur than actual words. You hadn't really slept, the quiet hum of thoughts keeping you awake while Mina's soft snores echoed from the guest room down the hall. The familiar, rhythmic sound was oddly comforting, a reminder that someone was there, even as you delved into the depths of parenting blogs, scientific studies, and posts about co-parenting and therapy for children with quirk-related issues.

Your bedroom was a sanctuary of warmth and personal touches, a blend of cherished memories and subtle holiday cheer. The walls, painted in your favorite soft hue, created a calming backdrop for the life that filled the space. Floating shelves lined one wall, adorned with an array of knick-knacks and framed photographs that captured moments of joy and love. Most prominent among them were pictures of Asuna, her beaming smile frozen in time, radiating happiness. 

A single, weathered photo of Class 1-A was locked  away in your desk drawer, a reminder of a chapter once closed but never forgotten.

On your desk, a hot pink lava lamp, gifted from Asuna, casts a gentle, rhythmic glow, the liquid inside dancing slowly in the dim light. Beside it, a cat-shaped mug from Hitoshi held a few pens and a half-empty cup of tea from the night before. A parenting book from Aizawa lay open, pages marked with notes and highlights from your late-night reading. Eri's growing cactus sat proudly on the windowsill, its tiny spines catching the morning light.

Your bed was a haven of comfort, dominated by a large, knitted blanket from your grandmother Rita, draped over the soft, inviting sheets. The adjacent pillow held a picture of Rita, because you couldn’t go to bed without her yet. A pair of bunny slippers, Mina’s thoughtful gift, rested at the side of the bed, ready to be slipped on when the day began.

Christmas decorations added a festive touch, with a mini tree twinkling in the corner, its tiny ornaments reflecting the soft glow of fairy lights strung across the room. The corkboard above your desk was a collage of memories, snapshots of Asuna and Eri, candid moments with Aizawa and Hitoshi, and little notes that brought warmth to your heart.

A bookshelf, filled with well-loved books and a few new additions, stood tall against one wall, its shelves a mix of fiction, non-fiction, and journals. The walk-in closet was a neat but lived-in space, filled with clothes and a few hidden gifts waiting for the right moment. The private bathroom adjoined to the bedroom was a quiet retreat, its simple design accentuated by the personal touches that made it yours.

But you couldn’t enjoy it.

At least, not right now.

Your mind was restless, bouncing between thoughts of Asuna, your grandmother Rita, and inevitably—

Katsuki. 

You looked at your phone again, your most recent conversation with Hitoshi still echoing in your mind, replaying in fragments. It had started as it always did, a check-in after his patrol, his voice steady as he reassured you of his safety before mentioning he was about to turn in. But then he asked a question that lingered long after the call had ended.

"Have you ever thought about dating again?"

The question had caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. You weren’t a nun; you hadn’t closed yourself off completely. But after everything, after the heartache and the struggle, you hadn’t given it much thought. It felt like opening a door you weren’t sure you wanted to step through again. 

Deep down, a part of you still loved Katsuki. Maybe it was the memory of him, or the aspects of him that lingered in your heart. But loving someone didn’t mean you had to put yourself through the pain of liking them again, of letting them back in.

You sighed, the weight of it all pressing against your chest. Katsuki was still a part of Asuna, even if he didn’t know it. 

And that tether, however frayed, couldn't be severed. 

You couldn’t give Hitoshi a straight answer, and he hadn’t pressed further, leaving the conversation to taper off into a soft ‘see you soon’ before the line went dead.

Rubbing your temples, you tried to shake off the lingering thoughts. The night had been heavy, filled with emotions that bubbled to the surface as your brain kept replaying how you and Katsuki cried together. His presence, even through the tears, had been comforting, a safety you hadn’t felt with anyone else since. It was a harsh reminder of what once was, of what could never be again, and yet… 

It made you feel something you hadn't in a long time.

With a deep breath, you stood and stretched, the soft cotton of your tank top shifting against your skin. You grabbed the cream-colored, kitten-soft sweater draped over the corner of your bed and slipped it on, buttoning it up to ward off the morning chill. The fabric was warm and comforting, a small shield against the emotional whirlwind inside you.

Making your way to the basement, you descended the stairs slowly, each step sobering you a bit more. The workout room was warmer than usual, a subtle, cozy heat that enveloped you as you entered. You set up your routine, focusing on the familiar rhythm of movement. The strain of muscles, the controlled breaths, the focus it required—each brought a semblance of clarity.

As you worked through your routine, your thoughts began to align, forming a plan. You’d talk to Asuna this morning, have a heart-to-heart about whatever was on her mind. Maybe, after meeting with Katsuki, you could take her Christmas shopping. A mom-and-daughter date. The thought brought a small, soft smile to your lips. 

‘Yeah, that would be a good idea.’ 

Something to look forward to, something to lighten the weight in your chest.

Asuna woke up at 5 a.m., her internal clock reliable as ever. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked at the ceiling before reaching for her phone on the nightstand. A soft smile crept onto her face as she read the goodnight message from Eri, who always sent her love before bed, knowing Asuna could never stay awake past 9 p.m. She hearted the message and quickly typed back a loving good morning, the warmth of their friendship lifting her spirits.

She stretched her arms above her head, the soft glow of dawn filtering through the fogged window. The faint sounds of weights clanking and your focused breaths reached her ears from the basement below, a familiar morning symphony. Asuna sighed, her breath fogging up the glass as she leaned against the window for a moment, watching the grey sky slowly lighten. 

Aunty Mina would still be sound asleep in the guest room, snoring softly, until her alarm woke her at 6 a.m. Then, Mina would stumble out in her pink silk robe, bleary-eyed but cheerful, and head to the kitchen to start breakfast, filling the house with the comforting aroma of food.

Asuna's room was a vibrant blend of her eclectic tastes, a space that captured her unique personality. The walls were painted a soft pink, a backdrop that was both soothing and cheerful. Her pink Bayside window, framed with delicate lace curtains, overlooked the quiet mountain below, the glass fogged from the chilly morning air. On her nightstand sat her beloved camera, always ready to capture the world as she saw it, and a butterfly lamp from Eri, its gentle glow casting soft shadows on the walls.

Her bed was a princess dream, draped with a canopy and adorned with a mix of cushions and stuffed animals. The black sheets with strawberries shaped like skulls were a little unique in contrast with the rest of the room. 

When you had asked her why she chose them, she simply said, "They're tough." 

One corner of the room screamed punk goth, with dark posters, edgy decor, and a collection of band memorabilia. The other corner embraced a pink aesthetic, filled with soft plushies, fairy lights, and pastel trinkets. Her large closet was neatly divided: One half for her school and hero training clothes, and the other for her fashion-forward outfits. Each section was neatly organized and readily accessible.

On the hooks along one wall hung her purses, book bag, and gym bag, a tidy lineup that belied the heated debate between Shinsou and Aizawa when trying to install them. Eventually, you and Mina had stepped in, setting up the hooks while the two men argued over placement. 

Shinsou had redeemed himself by successfully installing her floor-to-ceiling bookshelf and gaming monitor, while you and Aizawa had built her bed frame together. Mina had helped with the vanity, changing out the lightbulbs to cast the perfect glow, and Eri had gifted Asuna her first shoujo manga for the bookshelf.

The room was also decked out for Christmas, a full-sized tree in one corner, adorned with ornaments, lights, and featuring her favorite comic book characters. The festive atmosphere blended seamlessly with her everyday decor, creating a space that felt warm, personal, and entirely hers. 

She almost went back to bed before she realized that she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Today would be the final day of school before winter break. And the thought of the half-day at school brought a mix of anticipation and restlessness. 

Asuna loved half-days, especially because it meant spending the afternoon with you at the office. She looked forward to the warm greetings from your colleagues, the familiar bustle of your workspace, and the hours spent in Elle’s office. There, she could immerse herself in video games, 2000’s romantic comedies, or, if fortune favored her, study new fight tapes to hone her skills. The possibility of Eri joining her for a session in your company’s gym added a layer of excitement.

Pushing herself off the bed, Asuna padded across the room in her reindeer slippers, her footsteps muffled on the plush carpet. She grabbed her neatly laid-out school uniform from the chair by her desk, folding it over her arm as she headed to the bathroom. Her resolve hardened as she turned on the shower, the rush of water filling the small space. 

Today, she would ask you about her father. 

The thought made her stomach churn, but she felt a determined flame flicker in her chest. It was a conversation she needed to have, and she trusted you to be honest with her. Stepping into the warm cascade of water, Asuna let the heat soothe her nerves, the steam wrapping around her like a cocoon. 

It was going to be a long day, but she had to face it.

Now matter how much she wanted to burn everything down. 

The faint scent of waffles and the distant thump of music filled the house as you set down your weights, catching your breath. Mina’s familiar, upbeat tunes floated from the kitchen, her morning ritual of blasting music while whipping up breakfast in full swing. Smiling, you wiped the sweat from your brow and paused your playlist just as Lil Jon’s "Get Low" reached its final beats.

Hearing soft footsteps on the stairs, you turned, greeted by the sight of Asuna's familiar, mischievous grin. Her bright red eyes sparkled as she bounded towards you, her school outfit a playful rebellion against the standard uniform.

Today, she sported a white skirt paired with an oversized black sweater adorned with yellow diamonds, her half-up, half-down hairstyle framing her face perfectly. The butterfly clip from Eri nestled in her hair caught the light, and her ears sparkled with the stud earrings Mina had given her last birthday. Chains jingled lightly around her neck, completing her effortlessly stylish look. Despite her ensemble's flair, she still had her reindeer slippers on, a cozy touch that made you chuckle.

You waved her over, and she skipped to your side, greeting you with a bright, "Good morning!" As you looked over her outfit, noting the absence of the school-issued blazer and tie, you raised an eyebrow.

"Skipping the uniform again, huh?" you teased, smoothing her hair as she tilted her head innocently.

Asuna grinned. "It’s a half day, so I figured we could hang out afterward. No need for the boring uniform if I'm just coming to your office."

Her words tugged at your heart, but you gently broke the news.

"Actually, I’ve got work, and Rumi will be picking you up from school today."

Her eyes widened slightly, blinking in surprise. Before disappointment could set in, you added quickly, 

"We’ll talk more at breakfast, okay? I promise. I hope you don’t mind waiting a little."

Asuna’s attitude remained upbeat as she nodded, the disappointment fleeting. "No problem. I’ll be fine." She gave you a playful nudge. "Now, go shower before you stink up the kitchen."

You grinned, grabbing your towel and swinging it playfully in her direction. "Oh, you’re going to get it now!"

Laughing, Asuna darted out of the way, her reindeer slippers pattering against the floor as you chased her down the hallway, your shared laughter echoing through the house, a perfect start to the day.

With a burst of speed, Asuna dashed up the stairs, her laughter echoing through the house as she tried to evade your pursuit. You were right behind her, the towel you’d been wielding like a flag of sweaty victory flapping in your hand. Asuna squealed, her feet skidding slightly on the hardwood floor before she made a sharp turn into the kitchen.

"Sanctuary!" she cried out, ducking behind the kitchen island.

Mina, standing at the stove in her pink silk robe, emerged with a spatula raised high like a weapon of authority. Her brow furrowed in mock seriousness as she surveyed the scene unfolding before her.

"Hey! What did I say about running in my kitchen?" she ordered, stepping in front of Asuna with the air of a seasoned protector. She pointed the spatula at you, effectively barring your entrance.

"Back off, soldier. You need to take a bath and put on your hero uniform before you stink up the whole house."

Feigning an expression of deep betrayal, you clutched your chest as if struck by an invisible blow.

"Is this how an unloved spouse is treated? I pay the bills, you know!"

Mina’s stern facade cracked just enough for a smirk to tug at her lips. She quickly gathered herself, slipping into a mock housewife role with a haughty tilt of her chin.

"It's your damn job to pay the bills in this house!" she shot back, wagging the spatula in your direction for emphasis. "I don’t care if you want to take a shower in every bathroom in this house, but you will NOT sit at, my table, all sweaty."

You let out an exaggerated huff, crossing your arms in mock defiance. "Well, if that’s how it’s going to be, I’m cutting your allowance. You can only get your nails done twice this week instead of three."

Mina gasped in mock horror, her eyes wide as if you had just declared the most grievous offense. With dramatic flair, she flung the dish towel at you.

"You monster!"

Catching the towel mid-air, you clutched it to your heart, blowing her a kiss as you stepped backward. "Just kidding!~" you called, shooting her a playful wink before making your way to the bathroom.

As you retreated, you caught sight of Asuna behind Mina, her face a masterpiece of exaggerated expressions, tongue stuck out, eyes crossed. She was barely holding back her laughter, her shoulders shaking as she tried to maintain her composure.

Mina turned, narrowing her eyes at Asuna’s antics but with a fond smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Alright, enough goofing around. Let’s get the table set before your parent uses all the hot water."

Asuna straightened, her laughter finally spilling over as she hopped up to the counter. "Can I help set the plates?" she asked, her eyes shining with the kind of enthusiasm that could make even mundane tasks feel special.

"Of course," Mina replied, handing her a stack of plates. "You set the plates, and I’ll finish up the waffles."

Together, they worked in harmony, Asuna carefully placing the plates at each setting while Mina poured the last of the waffle batter onto the griddle. The kitchen smelled of sweet syrup and fresh waffles, a comforting aroma that wrapped around them like a warm hug. Asuna hummed under her breath, the soft melody blending with the faint sizzle from the stove.

She gazed out of the window, noticing how the fog outside blurred the world beyond into soft, indistinct shapes. A sense of calm washed over her, knowing that today would end with warmth and laughter at home.

Hopefully.

Mina glanced over at Asuna, who was now reaching for the silverware. "You excited for your half-day today?" she asked, handing her the napkins.

Asuna nodded eagerly, setting down the silverware with precision. "Yeah! I love going to Mom’s office. Elle always lets me watch rom-coms or play video games. And maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll get some new fight tapes to review."

Mina chuckled. "Sounds like a blast. Just don’t go easy on your mom about the tapes. She’ll want to sit and watch them with you."

Asuna grinned, the thought of sharing those moments with you making her heart warm. The table was set, and she stepped back to admire their handiwork, her stomach already growling in anticipation of the meal. Mina ruffled her hair affectionately. "Good job, kiddo. Now, let’s get some breakfast in you before your day starts."

Asuna beamed, her mind already spinning with the plans for the day ahead. She loved mornings like this—filled with lighthearted banter, the scent of breakfast in the air, and the comfort of family all around her. She watched Mina carefully, noting the way she hummed softly, her bonnet still snugly in place, protecting her hair as she moved deftly around the kitchen.

The scent of breakfast wafted through the room, but it did little to settle the uneasy feeling brewing in Asuna’s stomach. She swallowed hard, glancing down at her hands before gathering the courage to speak.

“Hey, Minnie?” she called softly, using the nickname that had become their playful norm.

Mina, ever the multitasker, didn’t miss a beat as she filled a bowl with eggs and sausage bits. "Yeah, Mickey?" she replied, a smile tugging at her lips as she focused on plating the food.

There was a pause, one that stretched long enough for Mina to glance up, her brow furrowing slightly in curiosity. Asuna took a deep breath, her fingers curling into the hem of her oversized sweater.

“What do you know about my dad?” she finally asked, her voice just above a whisper.

The clatter of the spatula hitting the floor was lost beneath the sudden, deafening crash. 

The porcelain pancake bowl slipped from Mina’s grasp, shattering against the tiles with a sharp crack that echoed through the kitchen. Mina’s eyes widened, her usual composure faltering as she stared at the fragments scattered across the floor.

"Asuna," Mina stammered, her voice tight with surprise and something else—something deeper. "I-I... I didn’t mean to—”

Asuna was already moving, her heart pounding as she rushed to help. "It's okay, it’s okay," she said hurriedly, crouching down to gather the broken pieces. In her haste, her palm caught a jagged edge of the shattered bowl, slicing through the skin with a sting that made her gasp.

" Shit! " Asuna recoiled, blood welling up from the cut almost immediately.

Mina’s reaction was instant. “Oh no! Come here,” she said urgently, her hands gentle but firm as she guided Asuna to the sink. She turned on the water, letting the cool stream rush over the wound to flush out any debris. Her touch was careful, her concern evident in the tight set of her jaw.

As the water ran pink with diluted blood, Mina kept her focus on Asuna's hand, her voice softening. "Let’s get this cleaned up. We don’t want anything getting infected," she murmured, reaching for a clean towel to press against the wound once it was thoroughly rinsed. Asuna watched her in silence, biting her lip as the initial sting faded into a dull throb. Mina’s hands moved with practiced ease, but Asuna could sense the underlying tension in her movements.

Once the cut was wrapped, Mina turned back to the mess on the floor, sweeping up the shards with careful efficiency before discarding them. The kitchen returned to its usual quiet, save for the faint sound of the water running and the hum of the heater.

Mina finally leaned against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest as she regarded Asuna with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Why do you want to know about your dad?" she asked gently, the weight of the question hanging in the air between them.

Asuna hesitated, shifting her gaze to the floor. "I just... I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. I don’t know much, and I guess I just want to know more about who he was. What he was like."

Mina’s eyes softened, and she stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on Asuna’s shoulder. 

“I understand,” she said quietly, her voice steady but laced with a hint of sadness. 

“But, Asuna, some of those answers... they’re not easy to give.”

Asuna nodded slowly, her mind racing with questions she hadn’t dared to ask before. 

“I know. But I’m ready to hear them.”

Mina offered a small, reassuring smile, her thumb brushing lightly against Asuna’s cheek. “We’ll talk, okay? But let’s wait until your mom’s out of the shower. She’ll want to be a part of this too.”

Asuna nodded again, her heart still heavy but comforted by Mina’s presence. 

“Okay,” she whispered.

They stood together in the kitchen, the quiet hum of the household around them better company than the unspoken weight of the conversation yet to come.

Mina moved with her usual grace as she set Asuna’s plate in front of her, the aroma of warm waffles and syrup wafting up to fill the room. The scrambled eggs, sausage bits, and perfectly golden waffles were arranged neatly, a small pool of syrup glistening at the edges. She served your plate next, her movements thoughtful, before setting her own meal at her spot on the counter.

“Eat up, Mickey,” Mina said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to Asuna’s forehead. The gesture was familiar and comforting, followed by a gentle hug that seemed to envelop Asuna in warmth.  “I’m gonna get dressed now,” Mina added, pulling back just enough to look into Asuna’s eyes. 

“Don’t be afraid to ask your mom, okay? She’ll understand.”

Asuna nodded, though the growing pit in her stomach made her feel heavier than she had moments ago. Mina’s reassuring smile lingered as she turned and disappeared down the hallway, her footsteps fading into the distance.

The house fell into a momentary stillness, the only sound the soft hum of the oven and the clinking of cutlery as Asuna absentmindedly picked at her food.

The kitchen felt warmer than usual, a subtle indication of the lava quirks’ effect on the room’s temperature. It made sense; emotions had a way of influencing the environment, and the slight rise in heat wasn’t lost on Asuna. She gazed at the plate before her, but her mind drifted to another time, another place.

She remembered being little, living at Grammie Rita's house before you moved out and got your first apartment together.

Everything in the city had been so different from the quiet, familiar life in the country. She’d been so excited at the prospect of having her own room, decorating it with her favorite colors and toys, imagining all the new adventures she would have.

But that first night, as the shadows stretched long across the unfamiliar walls, her excitement waned, replaced by a sense of overwhelming homesickness. The city sounds were foreign, the constant hum of traffic and the occasional siren a stark contrast to the soothing chirps of crickets back home.

She had cried, clutching her favorite stuffed animal, her small body curled up under the covers. You had come to her then, your face soft with understanding as you knelt beside her bed.

"It’s okay," you had whispered, smoothing her hair back gently. "It’s a big change, but we’ll get through it together."

You’d suggested she sleep in your bed, just for the night, to help with the move. It had been a simple offer, but one that spoke volumes. Now that she was older, Asuna realized it had been one of those parenting tricks you were always reading about.

Even then, though, it hadn’t been enough. Sleep had eluded both of you, and eventually, in the quiet hours before dawn, you had packed a small overnight bag and made the long drive back to Grammie Rita’s house.

That night, she had slept nestled between you and Rita, the familiar scent of lavender and the warmth of home surrounding her. She remembered the comfort of being cocooned between the two of you, the rhythmic sound of your breathing lulling her into a deep, dreamless sleep. The safety, the warmth, the undeniable sense of belonging—

It had been everything she needed.

Asuna hadn’t thought about that memory in a long time. It came rushing back now, unbidden, stirring a mix of emotions she wasn’t quite ready to face. She blinked, her gaze returning to the present, to the plate of breakfast in front of her. The warmth of the kitchen, the comforting scent of food, and the distant sound of your shower running—all of it familiar to her, 

But that pit in her stomach remained.

Asuna sat at the kitchen counter, the warmth from the heating system making the space feel almost too cozy. She took another stab of her waffle, savoring the sweet scent, but her mind wandered. She wanted to feel warm, the kind of warmth that wrapped around her like a familiar blanket on a cold day—not the stifling heat that made her sweat or brought on an asthma attack.

Those moments, rare as they had become, still lingered in the back of her mind like a shadow she couldn’t quite shake.

She glanced toward the hallway where Mina had disappeared, the memory of her words offering a fragile reassurance. The kitchen, usually a place of comfort and familiarity, now felt tinged with the weight of her thoughts.

Asuna shifted in her seat, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her plate. She thought about how far she had come, how much she had outgrown that terror of suddenly feeling like an elephant was sitting on her chest, crushing the air out of her lungs.

Those nights had been terrifying—the sensation of not being able to breathe, the frantic gasps for air that wouldn’t come, the rush to the hospital. She remembered the cool plastic of the oxygen mask, the sterile smell of the emergency room, and the reassuring but anxious faces of the doctors and nurses.

Even now, the oxygen tank sat in her closet, its silent presence a reminder of those moments. It was tucked away with its refills, each one a testament to your meticulous care. You never missed a doctor’s appointment, never let her go without her asthma pump. The routine was part of your life, a constant vigil over her health.

But it wasn’t just you.

Shinsou had been there too, from the very beginning.

He was her biggest comfort through those episodes, his calm presence a balm to her anxiety. Whenever you had to leave her side—whether for work or errands—Shinsou was right there, holding her hand, his eyes steady and reassuring.

He’d given her a llama plushie once, a quirky little thing with soft fur and big eyes. “To keep you safe,” he’d said, his voice low but earnest. She had clung to that plushie during those scary moments, its presence a small but significant reminder that she wasn’t alone.

Whenever she was playing and that familiar tightness crept into her chest, Shinsou had always been the first to notice. His calm voice guided her through the breathing exercises, his hands gentle on her shoulders as he helped her calm down. He never panicked, never made her feel like she was a burden. He made her feel safe.

Some nights, she only wanted him.

The tears would come, the fear would grip her, and all she could think about was hearing his voice. You would call him on FaceTime, and no matter where he was or what he was doing, he would stop everything to be there for her. His face on the screen, his voice steady and soothing, always had a way of making the panic subside.

Asuna sighed, her fingers now resting on the countertop, the warmth of the kitchen pressing in on her.

The memories stirred something deep inside, a blend of gratitude for Shinsou’s presence and the persistent ache of unanswered questions. She looked down at her plate, the waffle now cold, and felt that familiar pit in her stomach deepen.

When she was little, she had been confused about the relationship.

She thought he might be your husband at first, the way he was always around, always there when she needed him. But she knew he wasn’t her dad, not her father. That role remained an enigma, a figure that loomed in the distance of her thoughts, faceless and undefined.

Asuna had been younger then, barely understanding the complexities of relationships. She had watched the way Shinsou moved around you, always there, always ready to help.

It was natural for her to assume, in her childlike innocence, that he must be something more than just a friend. The day she gathered the courage to ask, her small voice filled the quiet living room.

"Is Toshi your husband?" she had asked, her wide eyes blinking up at you with all the seriousness her little heart could muster.

Your reaction had been instant. 

Your eyes widened so much she thought they might pop right out of your head, and for a moment, you were utterly speechless. Shinsou, sitting next to you, had let out a soft chuckle, scratching the back of his head with a sad grin. The two of you exchanged a glance before you turned your attention back to her, kneeling down to her level.

"No, sweetheart," you had said gently, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Hitoshi isn’t my husband. He’s my best friend, like how Auntie Mina is my best friend."

Asuna had tilted her head, thinking about it. Best friends, she could understand. Eri was her best friend. Auntie Mina was always around, laughing and joking, just like Shinsou. She had nodded slowly, processing the information with the seriousness of a child trying to comprehend the adult world.

"Okay," she had replied thoughtfully. Then, after a pause, she had looked back up at you, her small brows furrowed with curiosity. 

"Then... who’s my dad?"

The room had fallen silent. You had taken a deep breath, trying to find the right words. The weight of the question settled between you like an invisible presence. Finally, you offered her a soft smile, your voice gentle but clear.

"Well, I can tell you one thing for sure," you had said, a small laugh escaping as you reached out to squeeze her hand. 

"It’s not Uncle Toshi."

Asuna had giggled at your playful tone, the tension in the room easing. But even as she laughed, you could see the flicker of curiosity still in her eyes, the unspoken questions she didn’t yet have the words to ask. 

You had known this day would come, and while you had been prepared for many questions, hearing it from her little voice had hit differently.

"Can you tell me more?" she had asked softly, her gaze earnest.

You had exchanged another look with Shinsou, his supportive nod giving you the strength to continue. Gathering her in your arms, you had guided her to the couch, and tried to navigate the delicate path of honesty and protection.

Humming, Asuna flexed her fingers from resting on the countertop, the warmth of the kitchen slightly suffocating her. The memories stirred something deep inside, a blend of gratitude for Shinsou’s presence and the persistent ache of unanswered questions. She looked down at her plate, the stabbed bits of waffle now cold, and felt that familiar pit in her stomach deepen.

The sound of your work bag and boots thudding softly against the floor near the doorway echoed through the house, a familiar and comforting routine signaling your return. Asuna smiled at the sound, a brief moment of peace washing over her. 

It was fleeting.

A sudden, searing pain flared across her left hand, sharp and insistent, sending a shockwave up her arm. 

Her smile vanished, replaced by a grimace as the fork she was holding clattered onto her plate, a muffled cry escaping her lips.

She quickly pressed her hand against her chest, trying to stifle the sting, but her gaze was drawn downward to the crimson vines blooming beneath her skin, vivid and raw against her veins, like fiery tendrils weaving their way down her arm and pooling at her fingertips to where the pain was most intense.

This was familiar, painfully so.

She had seen those molten streaks before—on you. You, Pro Hero Obsidian, who wielded lava with effortless control. Your body could conjure and manipulate molten rock, transform into its various forms, and encase yourself in it as though it were a second skin. Asuna had grown up watching your mastery with this element, your quirk a powerful extension of who you were. 

But this... 

This wasn’t supposed to be her.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the angry, red-hot veins, the vivid reminder of her lack of control. She didn’t have your quirk. Her abilities were a strange fusion of energy manipulation, capable of many things. But not lava. 

And certainly not ' that' .

She clenched her hand, forcing herself to breathe slowly, deliberately.

Her mind raced back to the times when these hot explosions had spiraled out of control. The memories were sharp, vivid. The baseball field she had scorched during a heated argument, her first asthma attack in the old apartment that left their surroundings charred, and the terror of that afternoon when a villain had chased her home, leaving her powerless and panicked, the resulting blaze a beacon of her fear and fury.

Asuna hadn’t told you about these red veins, about the heat that now seemed to pulse through her body when she was upset. She had hidden it well, bundling herself in long sleeves and hoodies, pretending it was for the weather or fashion. 

It has worked so far. 

You haven't suspected anything, busy as you were with hero work and managing everything else.

But now, she only had a few minutes before you walked into the kitchen. She could hear the soft thud of your footsteps drawing nearer, the anticipation of your presence making her heart race even more.

With a determined breath, she pushed herself up from the chair, her legs feeling heavier than usual as she made her way to the fridge. She pulled it open, the cool air brushing against her flushed face as she reached for an orange popsicle.

It was a small comfort, a familiar taste that might help ground her. She unwrapped it hastily and sat back down, her posture forced into calmness as she took a bite, the cold sweetness contrasting sharply with the burning heat still simmering beneath her skin.

She glanced at the doorway, waiting, her pulse pounding in her ears. You would be there any second, and she needed to keep everything hidden, for now.

"Hey, pretty girl!" 

Your voice, warm and full of affection, filled the kitchen as you appeared not two seconds later. Asuna's gaze lifted to meet your smiling face, her heart lightening despite the heat pulsing through her hand.

You had changed into your sleek black athletic pants, the fabric hugging your legs comfortably. A tight-fitted cropped jacket adorned your torso, accentuating your form while offering a casual yet put-together look. 

Your hair, freshly redone into softer braids sectioned into fours, framed your face beautifully, adding an extra layer of sophistication to your relaxed demeanor.

Dark, moody lip gloss highlighted your smile, the subtle sheen catching the light as you moved. Your eyeliner was subtle, yet sharp, wings drawn with precision, giving your eyes a striking intensity.

Around your neck, a matching chain to Asuna’s rested, a small but meaningful symbol of the bond you shared. On your wrist, your watch glinted faintly under the kitchen lights, its sleek design complementing the gold anklet that adorned your left ankle, a delicate accessory that added a touch of elegance to your casual ensemble.

You stretched your arms over your head, a soft sigh of relief escaping your lips, the motion causing the gold anklet to shimmer faintly. With a flick of your wrist, you turned on the kitchen fan, the gentle hum filling the space. The cool breeze it provided swept over Asuna, offering a reprieve from the warmth that had begun to suffuse the room. 

‘Thank Kamisama,’ she thought, feeling a bit more at ease as the chill from her popsicle worked to combat the heat radiating from her hand.

Despite her attempts to relax, your keen eyes noticed the new bandage wrapped around her hand. Concern flickered across your features as you tapped the edge of the bandage lightly with the back of a spoon, the gentle tap drawing Asuna’s attention. 

"What's this?" you asked, your voice laced with curiosity and a hint of worry as you handed her a pair of Hello Kitty chopsticks, the familiar pink utensils a small distraction in her hands.

Asuna hesitated, her fingers curling around the chopsticks as she avoided your gaze for a moment, focusing instead on the melting popsicle in her other hand. The cool, sticky sweetness was a welcome distraction, but she knew she couldn’t dodge your question for long.

"Aunty Mina dropped a bowl by accident. She cleaned my hand up," she explained, her voice light, as if it were no big deal. Asuna shifted in her seat, trying to maintain a casual air as she spoke. 

You tilted your head slightly, giving her a thoughtful, " hm, " before nodding.

"Let me see," you asked gently, extending your hand toward her. 

Without much hesitation, Asuna extended her hand, the motion casual and unbothered. Her bandaged palm faced up, the soft cotton wrap obscuring the majority of the red marks that had blossomed there earlier.

You took her hand in yours, your fingers warm and familiar against her skin. Your eyes briefly scanned the bandage, noting its neatness, and a soft smile played at your lips as you leaned in to press a tender kiss to the center of her palm.

"How did you sleep?" you asked, pulling a chair up next to her. Your tone was soft, laced with genuine concern, as you sat down, turning slightly to face her.

Asuna hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying,

"I slept fine." 

The words were smooth, but the underlying truth was evident in the way her eyes shifted briefly, betraying her unease. She returned the question quickly. 

"How about you? How'd you sleep?"

Your smile faltered slightly, though you kept your voice light. 

"Fine," you answered, a mirror of her lie. The reality was far different. Sleep had been elusive, your mind too preoccupied with responsibilities and the day's demands.

Standing, you moved toward the coffee machine, flipping it on with practiced ease. The soft hum of the machine filled the quiet kitchen as you reached into the cabinet above. Your hand hovered briefly over Mina's Celine Dion mug, the familiar design bringing a small smile to your lips as you placed it under the coffee spout.

As the coffee began to drip, you reached for two more mugs, your movements fluid and precise. Eri's mug, a deep red apple design, was next. You placed it beside yours—a gift from Mina—a mug with a volcano that changed color based on the temperature of the drink inside. A small but clever trick that never failed to amuse you.

Your eyes lingered on the shelf as you mentally cataloged the mugs.

Aizawa's black mug with the cat paw print on the bottom came to mind. Shinsou’s Venom mug, tucked away in the very back, was currently on ‘ time out ’. Elle, your manager, had a Cinderella Story mug featuring Hilary Duff. Lastly, there was Grammie Rita’s " #1 Original Gangsta " mug.

You reached for her mug, filling it with coffee as the machine finished its cycle. But as you poured, a sudden realization dawned on you. Your hands stilled, the coffee pot hovering just above the rim. Your gaze drifted out the kitchen window, the view blurring slightly as your thoughts took a sudden turn.

Setting the pot down with deliberate care, you inhaled deeply, the aroma of fresh coffee grounding you momentarily. With a soft sigh, you picked up both mugs and placed them in their designated spots on the counter. Your movements were slower now, more deliberate, as if each action required careful thought.

Asuna watched quietly, noting the subtle shift in your demeanor. 

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice laced with concern.

You turned to her, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I will be," you said, your voice calm yet sincere. 

"How’ve you been holding up?"

Asuna shrugged slightly, fiddling with the stick of her popsicle as she considered her answer. "Fine," she said, her tone steady but with an undertone of contemplation. "I miss Grammie Rita… but she was sick for a while. So… her being able to rest now probably gives her peace." Her words were quiet, thoughtful.

Your smile softened, a warmth touching your eyes as you reached out to gently brush a hand over hers. 

"That’s a very mature mindset and attitude about it, Asuna," you said, pride evident in your tone. " But ," you continued, leaning in a little closer, your expression turning serious, "it’s also okay to feel sad about it. Losing someone you love is hard, no matter how much sense it makes."

You held her gaze, ensuring she saw the sincerity in your eyes. 

"I’m here to talk, whenever you need. And if you ever feel like you need someone else to talk to—a therapist, someone who can help you work through your feelings—we can make that happen. Whatever you need or want, I’ll be here to provide it for you. You just have to ask."

Asuna took a deep breath, her grip tightening on the popsicle stick. 

Moments like this—the tenderness, the unwavering support you showed her—played over and over in her mind. They were her anchors during tough training sessions, exams, or even during the quiet moments when she was just living life. You had always been her first best friend, her constant. 

She couldn’t remember a time when you hadn’t been there for her. Birthdays, holidays, school events, quiet nights at home—whatever she needed, you provided, often before she even realized she needed it.

Which is why what she was about to ask made her feel sick to her stomach. 

Her chest tightened, a weight settling heavily as her mind raced with the implications of her next words. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her ears as she tried to summon the courage to speak. The thought of disappointing you, of disrupting the perfect balance you had created in their world, made her hesitate.

She glanced down at her hand, the red lines barely hidden beneath the bandage. The warmth from earlier lingered faintly, a reminder of her growing inability to control this part of herself. Gathering her resolve, Asuna looked back up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and fear.

"I… need to tell you something," she started, her voice trembling slightly.

You set your fork down gently, the clink of metal on porcelain resonating softly in the quiet kitchen. Turning fully toward Asuna, you rested your elbows on the kitchen island, your gaze steady and open. 

"I'm here, 'S una. Talk to me," you said softly, your voice warm but attentive, carefully observing her every move. You knew Asuna well—too well to miss the subtle shifts in her demeanor. She was always a straightforward child, seeing the world in stark contrasts, much like… well, like her… yeah. 

Some traits are simply passed down, as natural as breathing.

Asuna’s fingers trembled slightly as she placed her popsicle on the edge of her waffles, her focus now solely on you. Her crimson eyes, those precious blood diamonds you cherished so deeply, met yours. You’d memorized every starburst and flicker in them over the years, each gaze a reminder of your bond. 

"I have something I need to ask," she said, her voice wavering, betraying her internal conflict. Her hands twitched, and you could almost feel the heat radiating from her, a familiar sensation when her emotions surged.

"Go ahead, shoot for the moon even if you're gazing at stars," you encouraged gently. It was your way of telling her that, despite the distraction evident in her expression, you wanted her to be upfront, honest, unburdened. You watched as a bead of sweat formed on her brow, her skin flushed, her breaths shallow. 

The room seemed to grow warmer, almost stifling. Your brows knitted in concern, and you reached out, taking her hands into yours, feeling the warmth emanating from her palms.

"Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?" Your tone shifted, the warmth now edged with a protective sternness, memories flashing back to the terrifying moment with that villain. 

The explosion, the flames licking the sky—you and Shinsou had barely arrived home in time to witness the chaos. Your gut had clenched with fear, knowing it was Asuna caught in the midst of it all.

Asuna shook her head quickly, blinking hard as if trying to clear the haze. 

"No, no, Mom, I’m fine," she started, her words rushed and defensive. But then, she paused, her body tensing as if realizing the weight of what she was trying to convey. "Actually, no," she corrected, her voice quieter but firm. 

"I'm not fine."

Her admission hung in the air, heavy and raw. You squeezed her hands gently, grounding her, silently urging her to continue, to let it all out.

"I need to ask you about my father." 

Her voice is steady, direct. It was such a quintessentially Asuna moment—honest and to the point, without a hint of hesitation. That was your Asuna.

Your Asuna.

You didn’t blink. You didn’t breathe. 

The words hung in the air like an unspoken storm, one you had always known would come, yet had never truly prepared for. The girl sitting across from you now, with her determined gaze and the weight of years of questions in her eyes, didn’t look like the fierce, 16 year old hero in training she had become. 

No, as you looked at her, time rewound itself in the corners of your mind.

In an instant, she was three years old again. Her hair was pulled into space buns, adorned with those little flower clips and beads she had been so fond of. You could almost hear the soft click-clack of the beads as she ran, her small feet padding across the floor. She was at the dining table, making hand turkeys with the same focused determination she now channeled into her training. The memory of her laughter echoed faintly as she asked for, " pasgetti ," chasing after Grammie Rita’s long braids as they nearly skimmed the floor, her tiny hands reaching out to grasp what felt like magic to her young heart.

Then, she was five, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her small brow furrowed as she sternly corrected Shinsou on how to play dolls properly. You could still see the exaggerated expression on Shinsou’s face, hear the high-pitched, falsetto voice he put on, following Asuna's instructions with a smirk. The memories tumbled forward, flashing like scenes in an old film reel.

She was ten, sitting across from Aizawa, confidently debating quirk theories as though she were his equal. She had always been so perceptive, so bold, even back then, telling him that if he didn’t take better care of himself, his body was going to give out. Her arms crossed, the same determined stance she had now, softened only by her concern for him.

At fourteen, she had been ecstatic to ride in her first limo, sitting beside you and Elle, her excitement infectious. It had been late, after a hero event, but you had wanted her company, needing her warmth to combat the long hours. At fifteen, she had her first set of nails done with Mina, the two of them matching charms and colors, giggling like the teenagers they were.

And now, she was sixteen. Training relentlessly with Eri, pushing herself beyond limits. You recalled the evenings spent with flashcards in hand, reading out questions as she dodged oncoming attacks, trying to train her mind as much as her body, always striving to be better.

She was your Asuna. 

Soft and lovely, fierce and brilliant. 

Every version of her etched deeply into your heart, forming a mosaic of who she had been and who she was becoming. But now, those precious eyes—eyes you had traced a thousand times—held something else. They held the question you had known would come but had always hoped to postpone. 

The question of her father.

Your hands, still holding hers, tightened ever so slightly. You felt the tremble in your fingers, the memories and emotions swirling together in a chaotic dance. This day was inevitable. You had always known that. 

Only, you thought you had more time. 

Time to find the right words, time to craft the perfect explanation. But after yesterday, the weight of everything crashing down, you realized how foolish that hope had been. Of course, she would ask now. Of course, she would seek the answers she was owed.

Asuna watched you closely, her eyes scanning every flicker of emotion across your face. 

She was patient, waiting, not with the impatience of a child but with the resolve of someone who understood the gravity of what she was asking. She had every right to know, every right to ask. And you, her constant, her anchor, owed her the truth.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. Your voice, when you finally spoke, was soft but unwavering. 

"Asuna, there’s so much I want to say, but more than anything, I want you to know that I’m here. Whatever you need to know, I’ll tell you. I won’t hide anything from you." You paused, squeezing her hands gently, grounding both of you. "You’ve always been brave, always faced things head-on, and I’m so proud of you for that. I’m proud of you for asking."

Asuna’s gaze didn’t waver, her eyes locked on yours as she inhaled deeply. 

The kitchen around you seemed to hold its breath, the morning light filtering through the windows casting a soft glow over the space, highlighting the quiet tension in the air. The hum of the coffee machine was the only sound, a subtle reminder of the mundane amidst the profound.

Her hands, clasped tightly in yours, were warm, slightly damp from sweat, but you didn’t let go. You held on, anchoring her to the moment, grounding her in the reassurance that you were here, and you weren’t going anywhere.

"What does he like?"

 Asuna asked, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of vulnerability. 

"What does he dislike? Is the story about how you two met real?"

You nodded, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand in a soothing motion. "Yes, the story I told you is real. We met during school—he was smart, and had a strong sense of justice. He loved books. He has a quiet demeanor but a sharp wit, always keeping people on their toes. He hates dishonesty, more than anything, and he has a soft spot for sharks."

Asuna absorbed your words, her eyes flicking down to where your hands were joined before lifting again, her gaze searching. 

"Is he Japanese? American? A foreigner?"

"He’s Japanese," you answered softly. "Born and raised here, though his work sometimes takes him overseas. He was always curious about the world, eager to understand different perspectives."

Her brow furrowed slightly, her fingers tightening around yours. 

"Does everyone else know him? I mean, do... do they know about him? Why didn't your classmates know about me?"

You took a moment before answering, wanting to choose your words carefully. 

"A few people know him, yes. But he’s very private, always has been. I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe from the dangers that came with my work. So, not many people know the full story."

Asuna nodded slowly, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts and questions. 

Her eyes glistened, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought to process the onslaught of information. She took a shaky breath, her gaze drifting momentarily to the kitchen around her. 

The familiar setting felt strange now, as if it had shifted just slightly in light of everything she was learning. The coffee mugs on the counter, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the faint scent of waffles in the air—all these everyday details seemed to take on a different significance. 

Asuna’s next question came with a slight tremor in her voice, her eyes brimming with unspoken emotion. 

"Does he... does he know about me?"

The room seemed to grow quieter, the weight of her question settling over you both. You could see her throat working, her breath shallow as she waited, hope and fear mingling in her expression. You squeezed her hands gently, leaning in slightly.

"Asuna, listen to me. He—"

Before you could answer Asuna’s pressing question, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the tension. Mina burst into the kitchen, her vibrant energy filling the space. "We're late!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of urgency and her usual upbeat tone. "With traffic, it’s gonna take almost forty minutes to get to school and work on time!"

You and Asuna both jumped at her sudden entrance, the heavy atmosphere disrupted in an instant. Mina, mid-rush, froze as she took in the scene before her—Asuna with her hands resting on the counter, your fingers still lightly wrapped around hers, both of you looking a bit shell-shocked. She blinked, her eyes flicking between you two.

"Am I intruding?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but Asuna beat you to it. Her voice was even, but there was a subtle edge to it, a deliberate choice to maintain the moment’s privacy.

"Nope. Let's take the food to go." She grabbed her plate, turning toward the cabinet where you kept the Tupperware.

Recognizing her desire to put a pause on the conversation, you nodded slightly and turned to Mina with a small smile. "Looks like it’s breakfast on the road today," you said, slipping back into a more casual tone. Together, you and Mina began cleaning up the plates. The rhythmic clink of dishes and the hum of the coffee machine became the backdrop to your resumed lighthearted banter.

"You’d think with all your hero training, you’d master the art of punctuality," you teased, giving Mina a playful nudge as you rinsed off a plate.

"Hey, I run on Mina time," she grinned, taking a swig of her coffee. "Which is way more fun and adventurous!"

Asuna returned, handing a Tupperware to Mina for her own breakfast. "Here, take this. I know you’ll just end up snacking on something unhealthy otherwise."

"Aw, thanks, 'Suna!" Mina accepted it gratefully, then glanced at her mug. "I’ll bring this back later, promise," she said, raising the mug in a mock toast before adding it to her haul.

Meanwhile, you grabbed your own coffee, sipping quickly, knowing you wouldn’t have time to fully enjoy it. Mornings had never been your strong suit, especially since your pregnancy with Asuna. Eating early in the day always felt like a chore, your appetite preferring a hearty lunch and an even bigger dinner to compensate. It had just become routine.

With breakfast packed, the three of you shifted into the familiar flurry of getting ready. Asuna tugged on her sneakers, her expression focused as she adjusted her laces, while Mina hopped around, wrestling with her boots. You grabbed your purse, work bag, and the distinct red book bag that Asuna never left behind. Your fingers instinctively reached for the keys tucked securely in your bra, a habit born out of convenience.

"Everyone ready?" you called, herding the group toward the door.

"Ready as we’ll ever be!" Mina chimed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Asuna, already at the door, held it open, her earlier intensity softened but still present in her posture. You ushered them both out, locking the door behind you, the morning sun shining down as you all piled into the car, the day's routine pulling you back into its familiar rhythm.

The ride to U.A. was unusually quiet. 

Asuna sat in the back of Mina's bright pink Jeep, her breakfast in her lap, her movements stiff and deliberate. Each bite she took seemed more out of frustration than hunger. She chewed aggressively, her thoughts swirling around the conversation that had been interrupted earlier. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she hadn't asked the right questions—at least not the ones she truly needed answers to about her father. Her grip on the fork tightened as her mind raced, her gaze fixed out the window at the blur of city streets.

Her hand, wrapped in a bandage, caught her attention. Slowly, she peeled it back, revealing the angry red scab beneath. It itched like hell. She pressed a finger gently against the edges, wincing slightly. 

" Great ," she muttered under her breath. The sight of it only added to her simmering annoyance, but she didn’t want to dwell on it.

With a sigh, she pulled out her phone, scrolling mindlessly through her feed, hoping for a distraction. But nothing seemed to hold her attention. After a few minutes, she gave up, slipping the phone back into her pocket. She leaned her head back, closing her eyes, and let the sound of your conversation with Mina fill the car. The cheerful chatter mixed with the low hum of the engine and the upbeat energy of Present Mic’s radio show playing softly in the background. 

Asuna used to hate that station, the relentless enthusiasm grating on her nerves. She even told Present Mic as much during her first orientation at U.A., much to the pro-hero’s amused surprise.

Time seemed to warp as she drifted between half-consciousness and thought, the familiar rhythm of the morning commute lulling her into a semblance of calm. Before she knew it, the Jeep slowed to a stop in front of U.A.'s imposing gates.

You turned in your seat to look at her, your eyes filled with concern. 

"Asuna," you said softly, handing her a red coat. "Here, put this on. It’s freezing out." You watched as she slipped it on, pulling the collar up against the chill in the air. Stepping out, you came around to her side, straightening the coat and brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. 

"Are you sure you’re up for today? You can skip if you want. I won’t tell anyone," you offered, your voice gentle, a hint of worry seeping through your usual firmness.

Asuna hesitated for a moment, her fingers fiddling with the zipper of her coat. The thought of skipping was tempting, especially with everything weighing on her mind, but her sense of responsibility won out. She sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

"Nah, I’ll be fine. Don’t go getting all soft on me, old lady," she teased, leaning in as you kissed her cheek.

You chuckled, watching her as she adjusted her bag and waved. "Bye for now," she said, her voice carrying a note of resolve as she trudged toward the school. The cold seemed to bite at her, the temperature hovering at a frigid 28 degrees. The clouds overhead were thick and heavy, threatening snow that just wouldn’t fall.

You stood there, watching her all the way to the gates, a proud smile on your face despite the ache in your chest. As you turned to head back to the Jeep, the sound of quick, heavy footsteps made you pause. 

Before you could react, you were wrapped in a tight hug from behind, strong arms circling your middle. Your hands instinctively rested over them, the warmth of the embrace chasing away the cold for a brief moment.

"Talk to you later, Mom!" Asuna’s voice was bright, and before you could respond, she had already dashed off, her figure disappearing into the school grounds.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest as you climbed back into Mina’s Jeep. She glanced at you, her curiosity evident. 

"So... was that the 'Katsuki talk'?"

You sighed, the weight of the morning settling on your shoulders. 

" Kinda ," you admitted, your eyes lingering on the school as Mina pulled away. The world outside blurred past, but your thoughts remained anchored to Asuna, replaying every word and glance, each moment etched into your heart.

—

Katsuki and Kirishima made their way through the busy city center, their patrol a familiar routine amidst the city's controlled chaos. The morning buzz filtered through the buildings, store staff setting up Christmas displays, long strings of lights danced along the pavement. Despite the noise of the city, their walk was a comfortable silence.

The pair turned a corner, the scent of freshly brewed coffee pulling them towards a quaint café tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. It was a cozy spot, a recommendation from Todoroki and Momo, who apparently frequented it enough to have a photo mounted on the wall. The picture of the two heroes eating in their uniforms, both sporting startled expressions, was labeled, ‘ Best Customers .’

An accolade that Katsuki found mildly amusing.

Katsuki hummed to himself, pulling out his phone to check a notification. Your response to his earlier voicemail—a simple thumbs-up emoji—had his stomach flipping in a way he found irritatingly distracting. He slid the phone back into his pocket, trying to suppress the grin threatening to surface.

"You want anything else, man?" Kirishima’s voice cut through his thoughts as they reached the counter.

"No," Katsuki replied, reaching for his wallet. Before he could even open it, Kirishima had already thrown his card into the slot, grinning widely.

"My treat," Kirishima said, turning to the barista with a friendly smile. He tipped her twenty dollars, waving off her surprised gratitude with a casual "Keep it. Thanks for the great service."

The barista, a young woman with bright eyes and a cheerful demeanor, thanked them profusely and gestured toward the seating area. "Feel free to sit while we finish brewing your order."

Kirishima nodded, following Katsuki to a corner table near the window. The café was warm and inviting, the soft hum of conversation and gentle clinking of cups creating a serene ambiance. The decor was a mix of rustic charm and modern aesthetics—wooden beams, exposed brick walls, and sleek furniture. Potted plants were scattered throughout, adding a touch of greenery to the space.

Katsuki settled into a chair, his eyes scanning the room as he drummed his fingers on the table. "You didn’t have to pay, you know," he muttered, still a little put off by the gesture. Kirishima shrugged, his easygoing smile never wavering. "I wanted to. Besides, you always get me back later."

A comfortable silence fell between them until Kirishima leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, how’s everything with her? You know, after ‘Hit ‘em up’ ?" He chuckled, referring to Asuna’s fiendish display of giving them both the middle finger. Katsuki scowled, his face contorting in irritation. "What about it?"

Kirishima’s laughter grew louder, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "It just reminded me of you back in high school. The way she did it, with that same fiery attitude—it’s totally you." Katsuki’s frown deepened, his voice rising in protest.

"What the hell are you talking about? I wasn’t like that!"

Kirishima leaned back, his hands raised in mock surrender, trying to calm his friend. "Shush, man. You're gonna scare the other customers." His grin softened. "I mean it in a good way. She's got your spirit, you know?"

Katsuki’s scowl softened marginally, though he still looked unconvinced. 

"Tch. Whatever."

Before they could delve further into the topic, the soft chime of the café’s doorbell drew their attention. Katsuki glanced up, his eyes narrowing slightly as a familiar figure with violet hair stepped inside. The newcomer’s gaze swept the room before landing on them, a subtle smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was none other than Hitoshi Shinsou.

Katsuki’s eyes met Shinsou’s, and for a moment, the world outside the café seemed to fade away. Shinsou made his way toward them, his casual stride and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the tension Katsuki suddenly felt creeping up his spine.

"Mind if I join?" Shinsou asked, his voice low and smooth as he reached their table.

Kirishima grinned, gesturing to the empty seat. 

"Sure thing, man! Grab a chair."

As Shinso settled in, Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his mind already spinning with questions about why Shinso was here. The café, once a peaceful retreat, now felt like the stage for an impending confrontation, the undercurrents of past interactions simmering just below the surface.

Kirishima remained blissfully unaware of the tension simmering beneath the surface, his usual bright demeanor shining as he glanced between Katsuki and Shinso. The redhead’s easy smile faltered slightly as he took in Katsuki’s stiff posture, the way his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap. Kirishima wasn’t sure what had Katsuki so worked up, but it was clear that Shinso’s presence was far from welcome.

Shinso, for his part, seemed unfazed. Dressed casually in a dark hoodie and jeans, he exuded a calm confidence as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes flicked from Kirishima to Katsuki, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he broke the silence. "Just picking up a few orders of red bean paste buns and some bagels," he said casually. "Figured I'd grab them before the place gets too crowded."

Kirishima nodded, his gaze shifting between the two men. He could feel the unease in the air, though he couldn't pinpoint its source. "Sounds good, man. How’s your morning been?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Not bad," Shinso replied, his tone easy. "Just a quiet start before my next shift. Planning to catch up on some sleep after this, then switching to day shifts until Christmas break."

Kirishima’s eyes lit up at the mention of the holidays. "Christmas break, huh? That sounds nice. I'm looking forward to it, too. Got some whale blubber for my mom to cook up—can’t wait to be home and relax a bit." Shinso chuckled softly, nodding.

"Yeah, it'll be good to spend some time with family." His words were casual, but there was a glint in his eye that Katsuki didn’t miss.

Kirishima’s enthusiasm didn’t waver as he kept the conversation going. "You got any big plans for the break?"

Shinso shook his head. "Just the usual family stuff. Nothing too crazy."

As the conversation continued, Kirishima noticed the way Katsuki’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the table, his eyes locked on Shinso with a steely intensity. It was as if Katsuki was holding himself back, his muscles taut beneath his hero jacket. The café's warm, welcoming atmosphere felt incongruent with the silent storm brewing at their table.

Trying to diffuse the tension, Kirishima turned to Katsuki with a cheerful grin. "What about you, bro? Got any plans for the break?"

Katsuki didn’t answer right away. Instead, he held Shinso’s gaze, the silence stretching uncomfortably as he seemed to weigh his response. Finally, his voice came out low, measured, and full of unspoken warning. 

"No plans worth mentioning, ta you."

Kirishima blinked, taken aback by the curt response. He wasn’t used to seeing Katsuki this wound up unless something serious was going on. Glancing at Shinso, he noted how the man seemed utterly at ease, sipping on a cup of tea that the barista had just placed in front of him.

He leaned back slightly, his mind working to piece together the puzzle. Kirishima sensed there was more to this interaction than met the eye, but for now, he let it be, focusing instead on the comfort of the café. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of pastries, the soft murmur of other patrons providing a backdrop to the tense scene unfolding at their table.

The barista called out Shinso’s order, and he stood, casting one last glance at Katsuki. 

"Well, guess that’s my cue. See you around."

Katsuki didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing as he watched Shinso leave. Kirishima waited until the door chimed shut behind him before turning to Katsuki, his concern evident. 

"You good, man? You seem... tense."

Katsuki exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "I’m fine," he muttered, though the rigidity in his posture suggested otherwise. Kirishima didn’t press further, instead offering a reassuring smile. 

"Alright, if you say so. Let’s finish up here and get back to patrol. Maybe some action will take your mind off whatever’s bugging you."

Katsuki nodded, though his eyes lingered on the door, his thoughts far from the cozy confines of the café.

—

Asuna sat cross-legged on the edge of Aizawa’s desk, her lunch tray balanced precariously as she poked at the contents. The chicken salad and bright red and yellow bell peppers glistened under the soft overhead lights of the classroom. She twirled a piece of lettuce around her fork absentmindedly before letting it drop back onto the plate, her appetite waning. Across from her, Aizawa sat in his chair, legs stretched out and arms crossed over his chest. His head tilted back, eyes closed, the usual stern lines of his face softened in repose. Despite his relaxed demeanor, his voice still carried a hint of dry amusement as he commented,

“It’s a miracle your stomach hasn’t given out yet with the way you eat.”

Asuna smirked, picking up a slice of pepper and crunching down on it noisily. “My stomach’s made of steel, Gramps. I could eat nails for breakfast.”

Aizawa’s eyes opened just a sliver, one brow arching before he closed them again, mumbling,

“Please.. don't.”

The classroom was quiet save for the distant hum of students in the hallways. Posters of pro heroes adorned the walls, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the subdued tones of the wooden desks arranged in neat rows. The windows along the far wall let in the muted gray light of the overcast day, casting long shadows across the room.

Asuna’s fingers tapped rhythmically on her phone screen, her attention divided between her lunch and the small blinking dot on her location service app. She felt the slight weight of guilt press down as she watched the dot move steadily through the city center. Slipping the tracking bracelet into your jacket pocket during the morning hug had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. 

Was it wrong? 

Absolutely. 

But Asuna had convinced herself it was a necessary measure.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, the plan forming in her mind. She knew you were meeting Katsuni—“Kat-sui” or something, around noon. The prospect of seeing this encounter unfold tugged at her curiosity. If she could just convince Rumi to take her to the city center park, she could “ accidentally ” get lost in the crowd and stumble upon the meeting.

The thought made her stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She bit her lip, eyes darting to Aizawa, who was now humming softly, his foot tapping lightly against the floor. His calm presence was both a comfort and a challenge. Asuna knew he had an uncanny ability to sense when something was up, but he seemed content for the moment, resting in the calm between lessons.

“Gramps?” she ventured, her voice light, testing the waters.

“Hmm?” Aizawa turned his head slightly, cracking one eye open to look at her.

“What’s your stance on spontaneous adventures?” she asked, feigning nonchalance as she twirled her fork in the air.

Aizawa’s gaze sharpened slightly, though his posture remained relaxed. 

“Depends on the adventure. Why? Are you planning something?”

Asuna shrugged, setting her fork down and leaning back on her hands. “Just thinking about the weekend. Might ask Rumi to take me to the city center. You know, fresh air, some exercise. Maybe get a little lost.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed slightly, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. 

“Getting lost doesn’t sound like a great idea.”

“Not really lost,” Asuna amended quickly, waving a hand. 

“Just... exploring .”

He hummed again, a knowing look in his eyes as he studied her. 

“Exploring, huh? Just don’t get into trouble.”

“Me? Trouble? Never .” Asuna grinned, picking up another pepper slice and popping it into her mouth.

Aizawa sighed, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes once more. 

“Whatever you’re planning, keep it safe.”

Asuna nodded, more to herself than to him, her fingers tightening slightly around her phone. The plan was set. Now, all she had to do was convince Rumi.

Finally, after more boring hours of sitting and being bored, the final bell of the day rang out, its resonant chime echoing through the hallways as students flooded out of their classrooms, eager for the freedom of winter break. In Aizawa’s dimly lit room, the atmosphere was more subdued. 

The faint clatter of chairs being pushed back and the hum of conversation faded as the last student left, leaving Asuna and Aizawa in a pocket of calm amidst the departing chaos.

Aizawa leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes following Asuna as she methodically gathered her things. He cleared his throat, causing her to glance up from where she had been stuffing her lunch container back into her bag.

"Heading home with me and Eri?" he asked, his tone even but expectant.

Asuna shook her head, offering a small smile. "Rumi’s picking me up today," she replied, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

Aizawa nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. He motioned toward the desks, silently asking for her help. Asuna set her bag down and began tidying up, stacking chairs onto desks and erasing the lingering notes on the whiteboard. The familiar routine brought a sense of normalcy, the quiet rhythm of their work a balm to the nerves that buzzed just beneath her skin.

"How’s your quirk been?" Aizawa asked casually as he wiped down his desk. His tone was light, but there was an edge of concern in his voice, a careful probing.

Asuna paused, her fingers trailing over a stray piece of paper. 

"It’s been fine," she said, her voice soft. 

"No major issues."

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, he pivoted to a different question, one that made Asuna stiffen slightly. 

"Have you told her about the most recent incident?"

The weight of his gaze settled heavily on her, and she fidgeted with her sleeves, the fabric crumpling under her fingers. She didn’t meet his eyes immediately, focusing instead on straightening a pile of textbooks.

"I’m getting around to it," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aizawa’s brow furrowed, his arms crossing over his chest as he regarded her with a mixture of patience and concern. 

"It’s important she knows, Asuna."

Asuna nodded, her mind drifting back to the incident. 

Her day had begun like any other, filled with the usual bustle of school life. She’d been tasked with delivering some papers to the office, a simple enough chore that offered a brief reprieve from the suffocation of her classmates. She was lost in her thoughts, her fingers brushing lightly against the folded papers in her hands as she walked the quiet halls. However, the tranquility was short-lived.

In the office, as she handed the papers over, a boy from her class, whom she barely noticed until then, caught sight of the forms she carried. His eyes quickly scanned over the lines, lingering on the space labeled "Second Parent." 

There, the field was blank. Usually, Asuna would fill in "Grammie Rita" or occasionally mention Aizawa, Mina, or even Shinsou, and recently, Rumi. 

But this time, there was only one name: yours.

Curiosity flickered in his eyes as he asked, his tone neutral enough, "Why's that blank? You usually fill it in." Asuna, feeling no need to hide her intentions, replied with a small shrug, "I meant to put only my mom’s name this time."

At first, his response seemed fine. He nodded, and they went about their day. 

It wasn’t until training later that his true colors emerged.

The gym buzzed with the usual energy of students ready to test their limits. Asuna stood at the edge, her hair neatly pulled into a bun, eyes focused on the task at hand. She was bracing herself for the physical demands ahead when she felt a sharp tug at her hair. She turned just in time to hear the boy sneer, his voice laced with venom, 

"Fatherless bitch."

For a moment, everything stood still. 

The words hung heavy in the air, sinking into her chest. The snickers from a few nearby students echoed in her ears, but her mind honed in on the insult, each syllable striking a nerve she didn’t know was so exposed.

Her breath hitched, a fiery rage bubbling up from within. Asuna was no stranger to insults, but this—this was different. Her fist clenched at her side, trembling with barely contained fury. Without a second thought, she spun around and punched him square in the face, her knuckles connecting with a satisfying crack. He stumbled back, clutching his nose, a look of shock and pain spreading across his features.

But Asuna wasn’t done. 

At least, her quirk wasn’t.

The energy that simmered beneath her skin now surged forward, a potent mix of her power and unbridled emotion. Her palms opened, fingers splayed as a scorching heat radiated from her. Her breath was ragged, her body vibrating with raw power.

With a guttural scream, she released it all. Flames and light burst from her hands, feet, and even her mouth. The blast was a brilliant, chaotic explosion, swallowing everything in its path. The force sent students sprawling, the shockwave reverberating through the gym.

When the dust settled, the gym was in ruins. 

The once pristine training grounds were scorched, debris scattered across what remained. Part of the walls had collapsed, and the floor bore the marks of her unleashed fury.

Asuna stood in the center, her chest heaving, sweat dripping from her brow. The boy lay sprawled a few meters away, groaning as he tried to remain concious, his face bloodied and bruised.

Silence hung thick in the air, the aftermath of destruction as stark as the echo of her outburst. 

She didn’t flinch when the others stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. 

Instead, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her gaze unwavering as she looked down at the boy who dared to mock her.

The doors to the gym burst open, teachers and pro heroes rushing in, their expressions a mix of shock and concern. Aizawa was the first to reach her, his capture weapon poised but hesitant. His eyes, always so calm and calculating, now brimmed with worry.

"Asuna," he said softly, stepping closer, "What happened?"

Her gaze flicked to him, her posture tense. She opened her mouth to explain, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she just shook her head, the adrenaline fading and leaving behind a hollow ache.

Nezu had tried to contact you, but with Elle blocking non-essential calls, the message hadn’t gotten through.

Yet.

Aizawa had handled it swiftly, expelling the boy without hesitation. 

The boy’s parents had demanded a conference to appeal the decision, a meeting for which you would be summoned. The weight of it all pressed down on Asuna’s chest as she stood there, her fingers tightening around the edge of a desk. Aizawa’s hand rested gently on her shoulder, grounding her.

"You’ll tell her," he said, his voice softer now, more reassuring. "And I’ll handle the rest."

Asuna exhaled slowly, nodding. She trusted Aizawa, but the thought of confronting the incident with you still made her stomach twist. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and lingering uncertainty.

"Thanks, Gramps," she said quietly, returning to the task of cleaning up, the familiar motions providing a small measure of comfort in the midst of the storm brewing inside her.

Asuna’s thoughts lingered on the fear that gripped her when her quirk spiraled out of control. 

It wasn’t just the overwhelming heat or the force of the blast—it was the suffocating sensation that followed, a panic that clenched her chest and stole her breath. It wasn’t like her asthma, where she knew what to expect and how to manage it. This was a chaotic storm inside her, unpredictable and terrifying.

Aizawa had been patient, working with her to find ways to train around her asthma. Like a seasoned coach, he had guided her through breathing exercises and techniques used by pro athletes, ensuring she could push her limits without compromising her health. But lately, the energy blast incidents had become more frequent, the fear creeping in that she was losing control. 

Some days, it felt like her very bones were itching, a discomfort so intense she wanted to peel her skin off and dunk herself into a cool bowl of water. Other days, the chill seeped into her core, leaving her shivering and longing for the warmth that you reveled in.

The sound of footsteps brought her back to the present. 

She looked up to see Rumi and Eri standing at the door, bundled up in sporty winter gear. Rumi wore a sleek, white puffer jacket that hugged her athletic frame, paired with black leggings and fur-lined boots. Her usual confidence radiated through the casual outfit, the jacket's high collar brushing against her chin as she smiled warmly. 

Eri was a bundle of pastel fluff, her lavender coat oversized and adorned with little bunny ear accents on the hood. She had on mittens that matched, a splash of pink peeking out from the cuffs of her coat, and her boots were dusted with snow, giving her a cozy, doll-like appearance.

" Asuna !" Eri chirped, her face lighting up as she ran toward her. Asuna ran forward, arms opening just in time to catch the small girl in a warm embrace. The two hugged tightly, and Rumi soon joined, enveloping them both in a strong, comforting squeeze. The shared warmth between them melted some of the tension from Asuna’s shoulders.

Eri, with a mischievous grin, tugged at Aizawa’s scarf, pulling him into the group hug. He resisted briefly, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips before he relented, leaning down just enough for Eri to wrap her small arms around his neck. Rumi chuckled at the sight, exchanging a knowing glance with Asuna.

While Eri busied herself with Aizawa’s scarf, Rumi turned to Aizawa, her tone shifting to a more serious note. "How’s she been holding up?" she asked quietly, her eyes flicking to Asuna.

Aizawa’s gaze softened as he glanced at the girl, who was now holding Eri’s hand. "She’s been doing well, considering," he replied. "We’ve had a few hiccups, but she’s resilient."

Rumi nodded thoughtfully, her hands slipping into her jacket pockets. "Good. Let me know if you need anything. You know we’ve got her back."

Asuna, catching the end of their conversation, gave Rumi a grateful smile before squeezing Eri’s hand. 

"Hey, Eri," she said, her voice light. 

"Let’s go take a walk. I need to freshen up a bit."

Eri nodded enthusiastically, and the two girls headed toward the bathroom, their footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway. Asuna glanced back at Rumi and Aizawa, who continued their conversation in hushed tones, the weight of responsibility evident in their postures.

Once inside the bathroom, Asuna leaned against the sink, exhaling slowly. Eri, ever observant, stood by her side, her eyes wide with curiosity and concern. 

"Asuna, are you okay?" she asked, her voice small.

Asuna smiled, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Eri’s ear. "I’m okay, Eri. Just... a lot on my mind," she admitted. The cool tiles under her hands grounded her, a small comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.

In the quiet of the bathroom, Asuna turned to Eri, her hands twisting nervously. "Eri, I have a plan," she began, her voice a mix of excitement and trepidation. "I want to follow mom before noon in the city central park. But I don’t want her or anyone else to notice me."

Eri tilted her head, her eyes wide with curiosity. "How are you going to do that?" she asked.

Asuna bit her lip, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "I was thinking... we could switch coats and accessories. That way, I’ll blend in, and you can cover for me if anyone asks."

Eri frowned slightly, the weight of the request sinking in. "Are you sure about this?" she asked softly. "What if something goes wrong?"

"I know it’s a risk," Asuna admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor. "But this is really important to me. I need to see him, to... sort things out. Please, Eri."

The younger girl looked at Asuna for a long moment, the conflict evident in her eyes. She didn’t fully agree with the plan, but she also knew how much this meant to Asuna. With a small sigh, she nodded. "Okay. But you have to be ready to accept whatever happens."

Asuna's face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you, Eri. I promise, I’ll be careful."

They began the process of swapping clothes. Asuna slipped out of her red coat, the fabric rustling as she handed it to Eri. Eri shrugged it on, the bright color contrasting wonderfully with her pale complexion. In return, Eri handed over her lavender coat, its softness a comfort as Asuna pulled it on. The coat was a little snug, but it fit well enough to pass.

Next, they exchanged accessories. Asuna pulled out a set of black scarf, gloves, and a hat that matched the coat’s style but in a darker shade. She wrapped the scarf around Eri’s neck, the knitted fabric warm against her skin, and tugged the hat over her hair, tucking in any loose strands. Eri handed over her earmuffs, gloves, and scarf, the pastel colors a stark contrast against Asuna’s darker attire.

Asuna pulled on a pair of leg warmers, the soft material snug around her calves, completing the transformation. She turned to Eri, a nervous smile on her face. 

"How do I look?"

Eri stepped back, her gaze sweeping over Asuna’s disguised form. After a moment, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Asuna in a tight hug. "You look great," she whispered.

"But please, be careful."

Asuna hugged her back, the warmth of Eri’s embrace filling her with a sense of reassurance. "I will, I promise," she murmured.

They pulled back, and Eri gave her a small, encouraging smile. "You’ll be okay. Just don’t do anything too crazy." Asuna chuckled softly, adjusting the scarf around her neck. "No promises," she teased lightly. She turned to the door before feeling a hard tug on her sleeve. 

“Wait.”

In the dimly lit bathroom, the air was thick with the quiet tension between Asuna and Eri. Asuna stepped back from the door, one arm crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes flickered with a mix of confusion and uncertainty. Eri, standing behind her, mirrored the same seriousness, her usual gentle demeanor replaced with a deep concern for her friend.

"You’re really trying to meet with Bakugou, aren’t you?" Eri began, her voice soft but carrying a weight of concern that made Asuna pause. The gentle cadence of her friend's words was like a soft nudge against the rising tide of uncertainty within her. Asuna's brows furrowed as she processed the statement, her fingers curling slightly against the cool surface of the sink. The name lingered in the air between them, heavy with implications. 

"Bakugou ? ..." she repeated, her tone careful, as though saying it aloud might shatter the fragile hope she held onto.

She let the name roll around in her mind, tasting the weight and texture of it until it settled with a sense of finality. ‘Bakugou ,’ she confirmed silently, her head dipping in a slow nod. Her heart thudded in her chest as she gripped the edge of the coat tighter, the porcelain pressing into her palms like a lifeline.

"I know we got lucky last night with the tracker," Asuna began, her voice trembling slightly but gaining strength with each word. "But I have to know. I need to know if he’s my dad or not. I can't keep living like this, not knowing the truth." 

The words spilled out in a rush, a confession that had been clawing its way to the surface for far too long.

Eri stepped closer, the soft rustle of her movement breaking the silence. Her hand reached out, fingers curling gently around Asuna's arm, grounding her in the present. 

"I get it," Eri whispered, her thumb brushing over the fabric of Asuna's sleeve in a soothing motion. The warmth of her touch was a stark contrast to the cold knot of anxiety tightening in Asuna's chest. 

"But what if there’s a good reason your mom hasn’t told you? What if she’s protecting you from something?"

Asuna's gaze dropped to the floor, her jaw tightening as she struggled to keep her emotions at bay. The weight of unspoken fears pressed down on her, but she forced herself to confront them. "I’ll understand if he’s not my dad," she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. The vulnerability in her tone was palpable, a stark contrast to the determination shining in her eyes.

"But if he is," she continued, a fierce resolve hardening her words, "or if it’s that Kirishima guy instead, I need to know. I’ve been left in the dark for too long, Eri. It's eating me alive ." 

Eri watched her friend, the weight of Asuna's words pressing down on her heart. The silence between them was heavy.

"What if he finds out and doesn’t want to be your dad?" she asked cautiously. 

"Or worse, what if he already knew and didn’t want to be part of your life?"

Asuna's eyes flicked back up, her expression hardening with a steely resolve. "If he doesn’t want to be my dad, that’s his loss," she said firmly. "I’ll move on and become a success without him. But I have to know, Eri. I can’t keep looking in the mirror and not recognizing the person staring back at me."

Eri considered this for a moment, the silence stretching between them. Then, she took a deep breath and stepped forward, pulling Asuna into a tight hug. 

"Okay," she whispered. "I’ll help you. But you have to keep me posted. Don’t do anything crazy without telling me, got it?"

Asuna hugged her back, the warmth of Eri’s embrace soothing some of the tension in her body. "Thank you," she murmured. "I promise I’ll keep you in the loop." They pulled apart, Eri's hands resting on Asuna's shoulders as she gave her a reassuring smile. 

"Just... be careful, okay? This isn’t something you can take back once it’s out there."

"I know," Asuna replied, her eyes shining with a mix of determination and gratitude. "But I have to do this. For me."

Eri nodded, squeezing her shoulders one last time before stepping back. "Alright. Let’s go back."

Asuna's lips curved into a small, hesitant smile, the kind that wavered at the edges but grew steadier as she held onto it. Her heart beat a little faster, each thump echoing with a growing resolve. She didn’t feel entirely ready—how could she be? But she knew she couldn’t keep running from the truth. 

Whatever was waiting for her, no matter how painful or complicated, she had to face it.

She could only hope you’d forgive her. 

—

The winter afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the bustling city streets, where the festive spirit was palpable. Decorations adorned every lamppost, and shop windows glittered with holiday displays, enticing last-minute shoppers and families enjoying their day off. The hum of conversations and laughter mixed with the occasional jingle of bells, creating a vibrant backdrop to the scene unfolding.

Rumi, Eri, and Asuna stood at the school’s entrance, their breath visible in the crisp air as they bundled up against the chill. Asuna adjusted the scarf around her neck, its fabric soft and comforting as it shielded her from the cold. Eri’s cheeks were flushed, her smile gentle as she pulled her hat snugly over her ears. Rumi, never one to be cold but built like a furnace, wrapped an arm around both girls, her energy radiating warmth despite the frosty weather.

"Alright, girls," Rumi said, her voice cheerful as she leaned in to squeeze them both. "We’ve got a big day ahead, and I expect to see some serious skating skills from you, Asuna!"

Aizawa watched the exchange from a few steps away, his usual stoic expression softened by the sight of the girls’ friendship. He assumed the switch of outfits was just a playful fashion choice, his brow lifting slightly as he took in their matching smiles.

"Don’t keep Rumi out too late," he said, addressing both Asuna and Eri with a small smirk. "She has to keep up with you two, after all."

Rumi chuckled, giving Aizawa a playful nudge. "Don’t worry, Aizawa. I’ll have them back in one piece. We’re just hitting the park for some climbing and skating."

Asuna waved a final goodbye, following Rumi down the steps as Eri lingered behind, watching them with a mix of anticipation and concern. She knew this was important to Asuna, and she could only hope everything would turn out okay.

—

Meanwhile, across the city, you walked through the crowded streets, your presence commanding attention without effort. Dressed in a stylish coat that flattered your figure, you moved with purpose, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces as you smiled and waved at the dozens of civilians who recognized you. Some approached shyly for an autograph, which you graciously provided, your marker gliding smoothly over pieces of paper and the occasional piece of merchandise.

The city center was alive with activity. 

Children tugged on their parents’ hands, pointing excitedly at window displays, while couples strolled arm in arm, their breath mingling in the cold air. The festive ambiance was contagious, and though you smiled and engaged with those around you, your mind was elsewhere.

Asuna’s hug that morning lingered in your thoughts, a bittersweet reminder of the weight she carried and the secrets she sought to uncover. Your heart twisted with the familiar ache of uncertainty, the question of responsibility looming over you like a storm cloud.

In your ear, Elle’s voice brought you back to the present. 

"We’ve got the latest data from your most recent fight," she informed you, her tone brisk as she managed her team with efficiency. "Tributes are still pouring in for your grandma, Rita. The public’s been incredibly supportive, and the office is practically overflowing with gifts. It’s heartwarming, really."

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. "That’s good to hear," you replied softly, your voice tinged with gratitude. "She meant a lot to them."

Rita was a public figure ever since the 80's in Japan for her protests of human rights violations and openly questioning the government. She helped organize for better workers rights, women's and child's rights, and started several charities for those left without housing after villain attacks. A true badass until the end. 

"And to you," Elle added gently, her tone softening for a moment before shifting back to business. "The lawyers your cousin hired are circling like vultures, but don’t worry. I’ve been keeping them at bay. No one’s getting to you without going through me first."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Thanks, Elle. I appreciate that."

"Of course," she said, her voice firm. "But we should start thinking about a contingency plan. In case Katsuki figures it out about Asuna. We need to be prepared."

You hesitated, your steps slowing as you considered her words. "I know," you admitted, your voice thoughtful. "But right now, I’m not sure if that’s the right move. I need to figure out the best way to handle this, for Asuna’s sake."

Elle didn’t push, understanding the delicate nature of the situation. "Alright. Just know I’m here when you’re ready to talk it through."

"Thanks, Elle," you said again, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts. She hung up and you resumed the quiet in your earpiece. You didn’t mention the half-started conversation with Asuna that morning, choosing to keep that moment private. Not everything had to be shared, especially when it came to your daughter’s journey to uncover the truth.

As you navigated the crowded streets, your thoughts drifted back to Katsuki. 

You’d made it a rule not to dwell on him—years of discipline in compartmentalizing your thoughts had taught you that. But lately, the rules had bent, cracks forming in the walls you’d carefully constructed. Mina's mention of him being in a slump gnawed at the edges of your curiosity. ‘

What kind of slump could someone like Katsuki Bakugou be in?’

He wasn’t one to give in to negativity, not the Katsuki you knew.

You’d heard the accolades, the honors he’d collected over the years, often standing on the same stages during awards shows. The memories of past comedians cracking jokes about the infamous Class 1-A breakup were vivid.  “Can’t sit them together anymore!” They'd quip, until Katsuki’s public statement silenced the chatter.

The internet had taken over where comedians left off, but even then, mentions of your shared past dwindled.

Reports showed you and Katsuki still ranked high in popularity polls, fan favorites even after all this time. It was the kind of fame that lingered, much like the ghosts of old memories you tried not to resurrect. The winter wind tugged at your scarf as you exhaled deeply, the steam from your breath swirling like thoughts you couldn’t quite shake.

The brisk wind carried the familiar scents of winter—crisp air tinged with hints of pine and the subtle sweetness of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor. Your coat billowed slightly as you walked through the crowded city center, the festive decorations glittering in the golden afternoon light. The streets were alive with holiday cheer, families bustling about with shopping bags, couples huddled close, and children darting between legs, their laughter mingling with the carols playing over the city’s loudspeakers.

A small girl tripped in front of you, her mittened hands clutching a fallen toy. You knelt swiftly, offering a hand and a reassuring smile as you helped her to her feet. "Here you go," you said, brushing the snow off her coat and handing her the toy. She beamed up at you, her mother offering a grateful nod before taking her hand and leading her away.

Continuing down the sidewalk, you noticed a group gathered around a lamppost where a kitten was precariously perched. Its tiny paws clung to the icy metal, mewling pitifully. Without hesitation, you stepped in, gently coaxing the kitten down into your arms. The crowd murmured their thanks as you handed the rescued animal to a young woman who promised to take it home.

The chill air bit at your skin as you paused to take a deep breath, exhaling a plume of steam that curled upward. Your gaze drifted toward the towering Christmas tree in the center of the square, its lights twinkling against the dusky grey sky. 

Someone approached with a bouquet of flowers—roses, lilies, and chrysanthemums arranged in a delicate tribute. "For Rita," the elderly man said softly, placing the bouquet in your hands. You thanked him, the weight of his gesture warming your heart even as the cold pressed in.

As you moved on, children tugged at their parents’ coats, pointing at you with wide eyes. One boy approached shyly, a small notebook clutched in his hands. "Can I have your autograph?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You crouched to his level, pulling out a pen. "Of course," you said warmly, signing his book before handing him a sticker from your pocket. His face lit up as he ran back to his parents, showing off his prize.

The city center’s window displays caught your eye, each one a carefully crafted scene of holiday whimsy. One showcased a family gathered around a fireplace, another a bustling toy workshop. The scenes stirred something within you, a reminder of the family moments you’d missed, the connections that had frayed.

Across the street, the park beckoned. Its bare trees stretched skeletal branches against the pale sky, but the skating rink was alive with laughter and the rhythmic scrape of blades on ice. You made your way over, crossing at the light as cars idled, their headlights casting long beams over the wet pavement.

The cold bite of the winter air seemed almost fitting as you watched the mothers in the park, their laughter mingling with the joyful cries of their children. Each child bundled in colorful scarves and coats, chasing one another through the frost-dusted grass, their mothers nearby with warm smiles and gentle calls to be careful. You sighed, your breath forming a cloud that dissolved into the wind, your eyes drifting to a mother helping her child up after a tumble. The way she knelt, brushing dirt from the little one’s knees, made your chest ache with a longing you rarely let surface.

'Don't think about him. Don't think about him. Don't— '

Yet here you were, standing in the middle of a bustling park, letting your mind drift to the guilt that had nestled in your heart for years—the guilt of not telling him about Asuna. High school memories flooded back, unbidden but vivid. 

Katsuki, stubborn and fierce, had always been adamant about wanting to do things right. He’d talked about marrying you like it was an unshakable goal, something as concrete as his dreams of becoming a top hero. The thought of his determined expression, the way his eyes would light up with passion when he spoke about the future, brought a bittersweet smile to your lips. 

But then the memories darkened, bringing you back to that Christmas Eve at the hero’s gala, sixteen years ago. 

The argument had been like a storm, violent and consuming, words hurled back and forth with a force that left both of you wounded. You could barely recall the specifics now—the exact words that once cut so deep had faded over time. But the pain? 

That remained, an ever-present echo in your heart.

After that fight, you had left. Packed your things in a whirlwind of emotion and left a letter behind, one you were sure he had read but never responded to. When the days turned into weeks and still no word came from him, you forced yourself to close that chapter. You had moved on, or at least tried to, until you discovered you were pregnant. 

How had you managed to keep Asuna a secret from the public all these years? 

It was a question you often asked yourself, marveling at the delicate balance you maintained. Asuna was your world, and protecting her had become your life’s mission. Katsuki had a right to know, that much you admitted to yourself in the quiet of the night when Asuna was asleep and the house was silent. But Katsuki was unpredictable, his temper legendary. The idea of splitting custody, of disrupting Asuna’s life with court battles and media frenzy, was a nightmare you couldn’t bear to entertain.

‘Fuck that shit.’

You shifted your weight, your hands buried deep in your coat pockets as you watched a child on a tricycle wobble past, his parents walking behind him, their hands entwined. 

‘What would it be like,’ you wondered, to have that kind of family life? To share the joys and burdens with someone you trusted, someone who loved both you and Asuna unconditionally? The thought brought a sting to your eyes, but you blinked it away, straightening your spine against the cold.

Mitsuki and Masaru often crept into your thoughts as well. Would they want to know their grandchild? The image of Mitsuki’s face, filled with the warmth and fierceness you remembered, surfaced in your mind. She had always been supportive, even when things between you and Katsuki had been tumultuous. 

But you knew, deep down, that if you had told them about Asuna, they would have told Katsuki. And that was a storm you weren’t ready to weather. The idea of Katsuki turning your life upside down, adding more chaos to an already delicate balance, kept you silent.

You recalled the night you moved out, the cold winter air biting at your skin as you loaded boxes into Shinsou’s car. Your awards, your clothes, your life—all packed away in the dead of night. 

The letter you left behind felt like a betrayal to yourself by morning, a shred of vulnerability you vowed never to show again. 

Standing in front of the mirror, you made a promise: 

Never again would you allow yourself to be hurt like that. 

Never again would you give someone that power.

“No,” you decide firmly, shaking the thoughts away as if dispelling a lingering cloud.

That marriage wouldn't have been better. The what-ifs painted a picture that seemed idyllic on the surface, but reality would have likely been far different. A marriage built on unresolved hurt and bitterness would have crumbled, leaving Asuna to grow up in a home filled with tension and resentment. She deserved better than that—a peaceful, nurturing environment free from the toxicity that could have taken root. 

The last thing you wanted was for her to become another child navigating the fallout of a broken relationship.

You sigh, rubbing your hands together to ward off the chill as you make your way to a nearby bench by the flower field. It’s one of your favorite spots, a place you often found solace during breaks or late nights. The vibrant blooms, even in the cold, seemed to radiate a quiet peace, a reminder of the beauty and resilience in the world. Sitting here always helped you reconnect with your purpose, to remember why you put in the hard work and long hours—to give people, including Asuna, a safer world to live in.

As you settle onto the bench, the cold wood pressing against your legs through your coat, you pull out your phone and absently thumb through it. Your finger hovers over Asuna's contact for a moment. The temptation to call her is strong, but you hesitate. She deserved some time to herself, to enjoy her day with Rumi without the weight of your worries pressing down on her. Besides, she’d pick up on your mood immediately. She always did. The last thing you wanted was to dampen her day with your thoughts and anxieties.

Instead, you tuck your phone back into your pocket and take a deep breath, the crisp air filling your lungs and bringing a brief clarity to your mind. Maybe it was time to consider talking to someone—a therapist, perhaps. The idea had crossed your mind before, but you’d always pushed it aside, too caught up in the whirlwind of daily life and responsibilities. But sitting here now, the quiet enveloping you, it seemed like the most reasonable step forward.

You glance at the flowers, their petals swaying gently in the breeze, and allow yourself a moment of peace. 

One last time. 

You’ll meet Katsuki one last time.

For yourself, and for Rita.

—

Kirishima clapped Katsuki on the shoulder with a wide grin. 

"Good luck, man. You’ve got this!" His voice was reassuring, the warmth in his tone cutting through the chill of the day. "Just keep it simple, yeah? Hand her the stuff, say what you need to say, and then let her take it from there. You don’t need to overthink it."

Katsuki grunted in response, nodding curtly. 

His work bag hung heavily from his shoulder, weighed down by the binder containing Rita’s will and the old photographs he’d dug out early that morning, at Kirishima’s insistence. His mind was a jumbled mess, yesterday feeling both distant and painfully close. The weight of the past was heavy on his chest, constricting his breathing as he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck, burying his face in its warmth. The cold ugly weather seeped through his jacket, a stark reminder of the winter’s chill that had taken over the city.

Even Kirishima had bundled up, his jacket emblazoned with his hero logo, reflecting the heat from his body as he headed off to patrol the city center. Katsuki watched him wave before disappearing into the crowd, leaving him alone at the park's entrance. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself. He could do this. He just had to give you the pictures and the will. That was it. And then, perhaps, he could walk away and never have to deal with this again.

At least, that’s what Katsuki told himself. 

But his stomach churned, and his heart thudded uncomfortably in his chest, betraying his supposed resolve.

He stepped into the park, the crunch of his boots against the gravel path muffled by the buzz of activity around him. The air was filled with the hum of holiday preparations; Workers were stringing up Christmas lights and adding festive decorations to the trees and lampposts. Children darted between the pathways, their laughter ringing out as they played, their breath visible in the chilly air. Couples posing for pictures, bundled in scarves and coats, while families gathered by the skating rink, watching their little ones wobble on the ice.

‘Fucking annoying.’

Katsuki’s gaze swept over the scene, searching for you, though part of him was hesitant to find you. His mind kept drifting back to the question that had gnawed at him since yesterday. Who was the father of your daughter? Asuna, you’d said her name was. She bore your grandmother’s maiden name, but something about her eyes, the way they stared at him with a mix of familiarity and accusation, unsettled him.

He found himself looking at the fathers in the park, watching as they interacted with their children. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to have a family of his own. 

What if he had married you, settled into a life of domesticity? Would he have had a brat of his own—a kid with a stubborn streak, maybe a little explosion quirk, someone to raise and guide through life’s chaos

The thought made his chest tighten, a mixture of longing and regret bubbling up. 

His gaze drifted to the skating rink, where children and parents alike were gliding on the ice. Some were beginners, clutching onto the railing for dear life, while others moved gracefully, weaving in and out of the crowd. The rink was a hub of joy and laughter, a snapshot of the kind of life he often kept at arm’s length.

Katsuki shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the edge of the photographs inside his bag. His thoughts spiraled back to Asuna. What were you like as a mother? She seemed well-adjusted, confident, and full of life—qualities that spoke volumes about the environment you’d created for her. 

But those eyes, her eyes, haunted him. 

Every time he blinked, he saw her glare, a silent accusation for something he hadn’t even begun to understand.

He stood there, watching the scene unfold before him, the cold biting at his cheeks, as he wrestled with the weight of the past and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Katsuki’s eyes scanned the park restlessly, taking in every detail but finding no sign of you. His gaze lingered on the parents, the kids playing, the groups of friends laughing together. But his mind kept circling back to the encounter from last night and the unexpected twist of seeing Shinsou. 

Why had that bothered him so much?  

He knew you two were friends—always had been. 

But seeing Shinsou there, at your side, made something twist uncomfortably in his chest.

Katsuki exhaled sharply, trying to shake the feeling. 

What did it even matter? 

You were never his to begin with. 

Hell, you’d made that clear enough when you left. Yet, here he was, sitting on the edge of frustration, like some possessive idiot. He made his way to a park bench near the skating rink, dropping onto it with a heavy sigh. The crisp air nipped at his face, his breath forming little puffs in front of him. Katsuki ran a hand through his spiky hair, the familiar sensation grounding him momentarily before he crossed his arms and huffed, staring at the rink.

The skating rink was bustling with life, a contrast to the grey sky hanging overhead. Twinkling Christmas lights bordered the walls, casting a warm glow that softened the cold atmosphere. Holiday music played through speakers, the cheerful tunes creating an ambiance of joy and festivity. Families circled the ice, their laughter ringing out as some stumbled, others spun gracefully, and a few, like Rumi, showcased more advanced moves with ease.

Eri giggled as she skated alongside Asuna and Rumi. The girl’s cheeks were flushed with excitement, her eyes wide with wonder as she tried to mimic the spins and twirls that Rumi effortlessly executed. Rumi grinned, her energy infectious as she encouraged the girls to push themselves further, teaching them how to spin on the ice and attempt simple tricks.

Asuna, however, was distracted. 

She knew she needed to find you. Her phone’s GPS had shown you were already in the park, but so far, she hadn’t had a chance to sneak away. Eri was having too much fun, and Asuna didn’t want to spoil the moment. Still, the anxiety was starting to bubble up. She needed to make her exit soon.

Noticing the tension in Asuna’s face, Eri tugged on her sleeve, a thoughtful look crossing her features. “I’m thirsty,” Eri said, her voice soft but clear. “But…I don’t want to stop skating yet. Could you get me an orange soda?”

(C0ugh, go on your special mission, c0ougH)

Asuna blinked, surprised for a moment, before the realization settled in. “Sure, Eri. I’ll get it for you.” She smiled, giving the older girl a quick nod. Rumi skated over, her breath visible in the chilly air as she reached into her pocket. 

“Here, take some cash,” she offered, holding out a few bills.

Asuna waved her off with a laugh. “I’ve got it. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

Rumi raised an eyebrow, her expression playful but firm. “Just drop your location, okay? And don’t wander off.”

“I won’t,” Asuna assured her, giving a thumbs-up before awkwardly clomping off the ice and onto the pavement. Her skates clicked against the ground, and she quickly swapped them for her shoes, slipping her phone into her hand as she made her way toward the main park paths.

The chill in the air was biting, but the park’s festive decorations and bustling energy offered a strange warmth. Asuna’s heart pounded as she navigated through the crowd, her thoughts focused on finding you. The sound of holiday music and the distant laughter of skaters faded into the background as she made her way toward the flower fields, where she knew you liked to sit.

Asuna adjusted the strap of her skates slung over her shoulder, the blades clinking softly as they tapped against each other with each step. But as she rounded the corner near the park’s central path, her feet slowed, and her heart gave a startled lurch. Sitting on a weathered bench, unmistakably tense and deep in thought, 

Was Katsuki Bakugou.

Their eyes met across the open space, and time seemed to pause. 

The usual hustle of the park—the chatter of children, the rhythmic sound of skates slicing through the ice, and the soft strains of holiday music—faded into the background. For a few beats, it was just the two of them, locked in an unspoken dialogue. Their faces, though carefully blank, couldn’t entirely hide the flicker of surprise and something….. unresolved, that passed between them.

‘Fucking hell, I thought she was you.’

Katsuki’s sharp red eyes scrutinized Asuna, taking in the familiar features that mirrored yours. The resemblance was undeniable, and it stirred a disquieting mix of emotions within him. He hadn’t expected to see her here, not without you. A question gnawed at the edge of his mind: If Asuna was here, where were you? His heart clenched at the thought that he might have already missed you, that maybe you had come and gone before he even realized.

Asuna, equally surprised, felt her pulse quicken. 

She hadn’t anticipated running into Katsuki so suddenly, especially not in such a sad, public display. Seeing him there, alone, sent a ripple of anxiety through her. She knew about the history between you and Katsuki, the lingering tension and the unspoken words that still hung in the air. 

Her mind raced—were you with him earlier? Had she miscalculated the time? No, it was just past noon; you were likely still finishing your patrol. But the sight of Katsuki waiting, looking almost pathetic in his solitude, unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Neither moved nor spoke, both caught in the throes of internal debates. Katsuki was the first to react, giving Asuna a slow, deliberate nod, acknowledging her presence with a flicker of recognition. Asuna mirrored his gesture, equally tentative, her eyes never leaving his. The moment stretched out, filled with the weight of things unsaid, before Katsuki leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees.

The wind picked up, rustling the skeletal branches above and tugging at their clothes. It was a cold, grey day, the kind that hinted at snow but held back, leaving the air crisp and biting. Asuna felt the chill but didn’t move, her gaze locked on Katsuki’s, both of them trying to decipher what the other was thinking.

Katsuki shifted uncomfortably, breaking the silence with a sharp inhale. 

His mind was a tangle of frustration and confusion. He hated this—this inability to express what was swirling inside him, the words that felt stuck behind a barrier he couldn’t breach. 

He didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t want to care so much about what you were doing, who you were with. 

Yet here he was, sitting on a bench in the park, waiting for a meeting he wasn’t even sure would happen.

“You gonna say somethin’, or just keep starin’?” 

Katsuki’s voice was low, rough around the edges, but there was a hint of vulnerability beneath the usual gruffness. His gaze didn’t waver, watching Asuna with an intensity that made her shift her weight from one foot to the other.

Asuna blinked, the bluntness of his question catching her off guard. She had expected silence, or maybe a curt dismissal, but not this direct challenge. “I…” She faltered, her voice softer than she intended. SHe had to play this right. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Katsuki huffed, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes on her. 

“Yeah, well, same here. Thought you’d be with your mother.”

“I was supposed to meet her,” Asuna admitted, glancing down at the skates dangling from her shoulder before returning her gaze to him. “I was just… getting something for Eri.”

The mention of your name seemed to soften something in Katsuki’s expression, though his features remained guarded. His lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, as if considering a response but deciding against it. 

“She with you?”

Asuna nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah. Rumi too. We’ve been at the rink.”

Katsuki processed this in silence, his mind darting back to memories of you—how you always seemed to be surrounded by people who cared for you, who wanted to protect you. It was something he admired and envied in equal measure. The thought of you out there, with them, made his chest tighten with a mix of relief and longing.

“You should get back to them,” Katsuki said after a moment, his voice quieter, lacking its usual edge. “Don’t wanna leave ‘em waitin’.”

Asuna hesitated, her feet rooted to the spot. There was something in his tone that gave her pause, a subtle hint of resignation that made her heart ache. She didn’t know him well, but she could sense the turmoil beneath his tough exterior. 

“Are you…waiting for my mom?” she asked carefully, her eyes searching his face for any clue to his thoughts.

Katsuki’s jaw clenched slightly, but he nodded, the movement almost imperceptible. 

“Yeah.”

A silence settled over them again, but this time it felt different—less tense, more contemplative. Asuna watched him for a moment longer before offering a small, tentative smile. 

“She’ll be here. She wouldn’t leave you waiting.”

Katsuki scoffed softly, but there was a faint trace of amusement in his eyes. 

“I know she wouldn’t.”

With that, Asuna gave a final nod, turning back toward the skating rink. Her steps were slow, deliberate, as if she was reluctant to leave but knew she had to. Katsuki watched her go, the clinking of her skates fading into the distance, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more. As the wind swirled around him, Katsuki leaned back against the bench, exhaling a long breath. The encounter had left him feeling more unsettled than before, yet there was a strange comfort in it too. 

The anticipation of seeing you again, the hope that maybe things could be different—it was enough to keep him there, waiting.

Asuna clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she took a deep, steadying breath. Her mind screamed at her to keep walking, to head back to the rink where Eri and Rumi were waiting. 

But her feet refused to move.

She had come this far—turned back once, and now standing there in the cold with the biting wind swirling around her, she realized this was her chance. She couldn’t back out now. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she turned on her heel and marched back towards Katsuki. Her steps were quick, deliberate, every ounce of her determination pushing her forward despite the fluttering nerves in her stomach. 

Katsuki, still seated on the bench, noticed her approach and sat up straighter, his sharp red eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity and caution.

Asuna came to a halt just a few feet away, inhaling deeply before speaking, her voice clear but slightly tremulous. 

“Can I sit with you?”

Katsuki’s eyebrows shot up, his face a mix of surprise and skepticism. “Why?” His tone was gruff, almost defensive, as if unsure of her intentions.

Asuna swallowed hard, her gaze unwavering. 

“I want to.”

For a moment, he said nothing, just staring at her with those intense eyes that seemed to strip away any pretense. Finally, he shifted to the side, creating enough space for her to sit, though he maintained a respectful distance. Asuna eased onto the bench, facing him, her posture tense but resolute.

Katsuki watched her warily, his arms crossed over his chest as if shielding himself from whatever was about to come. He didn’t do well with unplanned encounters, especially ones that carried the weight of potential confrontation. 

“What do you want?” he asked bluntly, cutting through the thick silence between them.

Asuna bit her lip, her fingers gripping the edge of the bench. She knew she had to tread carefully, but she couldn’t ignore the questions burning inside her. 

“How do you know my mom?” she asked, her voice steady, though her heart raced.

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed slightly, the question catching him off guard. He felt a spark of annoyance at the directness, but something about the determined glint in Asuna’s eyes stopped him from snapping. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying her. 

“What’s it to you?”

Asuna leaned forward slightly, her gaze unwavering. “I just…want to know what you’re doing here. Why you’re waiting for her.”

The tension between them thickened, neither willing to back down. Katsuki let out a low huff, his jaw clenching. “She’s a friend,” he said finally, the word feeling both accurate and inadequate.

“I came to see her.”

Asuna didn’t flinch, her expression unreadable. “Why?”

Katsuki’s patience thinned at the grilling, the familiarity of being questioned like this stirring memories of his mother’s sharp tongue and piercing gaze. His voice sharpened, matching her intensity. “Why does it matter?”

“Because she matters,” Asuna shot back, her eyes flashing. “And I want to know what you want from her.”

Katsuki’s temper flared at the insinuation, the heat rising in his chest. 

“You think I’m here to mess with her or somethin’?”

Asuna’s silence was answer enough, her lips pressed into a thin line. The sharpness in her gaze reminded Katsuki of the same fire he’d seen in you, in himself, and in his mother. It was a look that demanded answers, no matter how uncomfortable.

“You don’t get it,” Katsuki said, his voice low but intense. 

“I’m not here to mess with her. I’m here because…” He paused, the words catching in his throat. He hated talking about his feelings, hated how vulnerable it made him feel. But he pressed on, the need to clarify outweighing his discomfort. 

“I’m here because she’s important to me.”

Asuna’s expression softened slightly, though she didn’t let her guard down entirely. “Important how?”

Katsuki’s hands flexed, the tension in his body evident. “I don’t know,” he admitted, the frustration clear in his voice. 

“I just…care about her. More than I should, probably.”

Asuna absorbed his words, the weight of them settling into her chest. She didn’t know what she had expected him to say, but the honesty in his admission caught her off guard. There was a vulnerability in his tone that she hadn’t anticipated, and it made her rethink her initial assumptions.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” Katsuki added, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. 

“That’s why I’m here.”

Asuna nodded slowly, the tension between them easing just a fraction. “I get that,” she said softly. “I guess I’m just…protective of her.”

Katsuki smirked faintly, the edge of his temper dulling. 

“Yeah, I can see that.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the wind swirling around them, carrying the distant sounds of laughter and music from the skating rink. The tension that had been so palpable before began to dissipate, replaced by a tentative understanding. Asuna exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly. 

“I don’t want her to get hurt,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Katsuki’s eyes softened, the fierce scrutiny in his gaze mellowing. 

“Neither do I,” he replied, his words carrying a weight of sincerity that hung in the cold air between them.

Asuna leaned back slightly, her fingers drumming on the bench as she mulled over his words. 

Something about his bluntness pulled her back into her defensive shell. His manner of speaking was so different—gruff, devoid of the social politeness she was used to. There was an accent too, something sharp and clipped, that hinted at a different upbringing. 

It reminded her of the way you used to gently correct her speech before school, smoothing out her rough edges. She still didn’t fully understand why you had been so insistent about it, but she had complied nonetheless.

Katsuki, on the other hand, noticed everything about Asuna—the way her eyes flicked around, taking in their surroundings, and the way her fingers fidgeted slightly. His gaze dropped to her hands, and he caught sight of a scab on her palm, raw and slightly pink.

“What happened to yer hand?” he asked, nodding toward the mark.

Asuna glanced down at it, flexing her fingers absentmindedly. “Oh, that. Aunty Mina dropped something this morning, and I was helping her clean it up. It’s fine now, just itchy.”

Katsuki’s brows furrowed instantly. 

‘MINA?’

He hadn’t known she was over at your house last night.

He didn't know that the two of you still hung out like that.

At All.

The information lodged itself in his brain, a small flag for later. He filed it away, unsure if it was significant, but unwilling to overlook anything related to you.

“How’d you get that?” Asuna asked, motioning toward the faint scar on his cheek.

“Fight,” Katsuki answered tersely, his fingers brushing over the mark as if he could still feel the sting.

“You always getting into fights?” she pressed, her tone a mix of curiosity and mild judgment.

Katsuki shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Depends.”

Asuna tilted her head, considering his response. 

“Why aren’t you in school?”

“School let out early for the holiday,” she explained. Katsuki scoffed, a sharp exhale through his nose. 

“Figures.”

Asuna’s eyes narrowed, a spark of irritation flaring. “You’ve got a shitty attitude, you know that? You’re an asshole.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Really? You can tell all that from one conversation?” Asuna nodded confidently. 

“Yeah. You don’t hide it.”

“Don’t make it a point to,” Katsuki replied, his gaze steady, almost challenging. “But, if we’re being honest, you’ve got asshole tendencies too.” He sneered at her, expecting the girl to run off back to wherever she came from, not for her eyes to be lighting up!

A slow smile spread across Asuna’s face, her mask lowering just a fraction. 

“I know.”

Katsuki chuckled, a low, genuine sound that surprised even him.

There was something refreshing about her straightforwardness. It reminded him of himself, the way she didn’t shy away from confrontation or honesty. It was rare to meet someone who didn’t dance around the truth or put on a facade. Asuna leaned in slightly, her curiosity piqued.

“So, why do you care about my mom?”

Katsuki’s expression shifted, the humor fading into something more serious.

“Because I do.”

Asuna nodded, her expression softening. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine care that went beyond words. It was strange, but she found herself trusting him, at least a little. The tension between them eased, replaced by a tentative understanding.

“So, you gonna keep staring or ya got more questions?” Katsuki teased, his tone light but with an edge of challenge.

Asuna leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she studied Katsuki with a thoughtful tilt of her head. The wind played with her hair, brushing it across her face, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“What do you feed Big Red to keep him going?” she asked suddenly.

Katsuki blinked, momentarily thrown. “Big Red?”

“Yeah, Kirishima,” Asuna clarified, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Realization dawned on Katsuki, and he smirked, leaning back against the bench. “Ah, him. He eats everything. Meat mostly. Guy’s a walking protein factory. Eggs, chicken, steak... whatever has enough protein to fuel that hard ass head of his.”

Asuna laughed softly, the sound light and airy. “Sounds about right.”

Katsuki’s gaze flicked to her, a subtle curiosity lingering in his eyes. 

“Why are you so small?”

The question caught Asuna off guard, and she arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m taller than Mom,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “And I’m not done growing yet. One day, I’ll probably be taller than you.”

Katsuki scoffed, a derisive sound in the back of his throat. “Not much of an accomplishment. Being the tallest dwarf isn’t exactly a flex. And your mom? She’s short.”

Asuna’s lips quirked into a challenging grin. “At least I’m not a insecure loudmouth with a height complex.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, a mischievous glint dancing in his gaze. “When are you and your mom heading to the North Pole?”

Asuna frowned, clearly puzzled. 

“Why would we go to the North Pole?”

“Santa needs all his elves back,” Katsuki said with a smirk, watching for her reaction.

It took a moment for the jab to sink in, but when it did, Asuna’s smile turned sharp and dangerous. 

“Keep it up, and I’ll kick your balls in.”

Katsuki raised his hands in mock surrender. “Chill out, short stack. I’m not afraid to fight a kid.” Asuna’s eyes sparkled with defiance.

“Not surprised. It’s a miracle your crybaby ass hasn’t been sued yet.”

The playful atmosphere shifted as Katsuki straightened, his expression darkening. 

“Crybaby? Who the hell are you calling a crybaby?!”

“You,” Asuna shot back without hesitation. “Last night, on the sidewalk, crying like someone died.”

Katsuki’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. “No one died. But someone might very soon.”

A certain purple haired person came to mind. 

Asuna leaned back, undeterred by his simmering anger. “Why didn’t Mom ever bring me around your gang before?” Katsuki’s expression softened slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing.

“Dunno. Probably because of hero work.”

Asuna shrugged. “Makes sense. She’s always busy.” Katsuki hummed in agreement. “Same here.” Asuna tilted her head, studying him with a scrutinizing gaze.

“You’re in the business too?”

Katsuki nodded, his eyes steady on hers.

“You don’t look like a hero,” Asuna remarked, her tone skeptical. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation flashing in them.

“I am a hero.”

Asuna squinted, leaning in as if to inspect him more closely. 

“Nahhh.”

With an irritated huff, Katsuki reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet (lots of bills!) with his hero badge, holding it up for her to see.

“Believe it now?”

Asuna’s eyes widened, the sight of the badge silencing her for a moment. She looked between the badge and Katsuki, connecting the dots. “Wait... you’re Pro Hero Dynamight?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki confirmed, his tone tinged with pride.

Asuna blinked, her mind racing. “And Kirishima is... Red Riot?”

Katsuki’s smirk returned, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. “ ‘S right.”

Katsuki leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he exuded an air of cocky indifference. His eyes glinted with self-assured confidence, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He might’ve been trying to play it cool, but Asuna wasn’t buying it for a second.

“You’re still lame,” she said with a shrug, her voice laced with nonchalance.

Katsuki’s smirk faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Asuna confirmed, leaning forward slightly as if to drive the point home. “All tough and cool one minute, and then, bam, still lame.” Katsuki opened his mouth to retort, but Asuna pressed on, her curiosity getting the better of her. 

“Do you have a family?”

His brows furrowed, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “Why?”

“Well,” Asuna continued, resting her chin on her hand. “Why don’t you have one? Are you dating?”

Katsuki’s eyes widened, and he sputtered. “What the hell kind of questions are those?” Park onlookers be dammed with these two.

“Just curious,” Asuna said innocently, though the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No,” Katsuki snapped, his face flushing slightly.

“Why not?” Asuna asked, tilting her head, genuinely intrigued.

Katsuki rubbed the back of his neck, his irritation mounting. 

“None of your business.”

“Is it because of your attitude?” Asuna pressed, leaning closer.

“Or do they all run when they realize the truth about you?”

That... hit harder than Katsuki expected. 

His jaw clenched as he sat back, her questions needling into thoughts he hadn’t fully faced. His usual bravado faltered, the weight of her words striking a nerve, particularly with everything happening between him and you.

He couldn’t help but wonder if she had a point—had his personality, his inability to open up, been a barrier?

‘Yes.’

Noticing his silence, Asuna smirked.

“Gone soft on me now, have you?”

Katsuki’s eyes snapped to hers, his frown deepening. “Why are you so damn nosey? Just like your mom.”

Asuna blinked, taken aback. “Mom’s not nosey.”

“Yeah, right,” Katsuki scoffed. Asuna rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

He leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “Is Shinsou your mom’s boyfriend?”

“Uncle Hitoshi? Ew,” Asuna grimaced, the sheer disbelief evident in her expression. “No way.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Why not? What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing, really,” Asuna admitted with a shrug. “I mean, I wouldn’t call him handsome to his face or anything. It’s just... he’s always sleep-deprived and has that low-key creepy smile.”

'And because it's too complicated to think of him like a dad.'

Katsuki smirked, leaning back. “So, bag check is still single?”

“Why do you care so much if he’s dating my mom?” Asuna shot back, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Why do you want to know?”

Katsuki’s expression shifted, and he averted his gaze, clearly embarrassed. “None of yer damn business,” he huffed. Asuna grinned, sensing an opportunity to press further.

“Where is my mom, anyway?”

“Hell if I know,” Katsuki grumbled. “Why don’t you just call her or somethin'?”

“Why don’t you?” Asuna shot back, crossing her arms.

Katsuki pulled out his phone with a grunt, clearly ready to end this conversation. But as he was about to dial, Asuna dropped the next question like a bombshell.

“Do you have any kids?”

Katsuki froze, his phone slipping from his hand and landing on the ground with a tasty CRACK! He stared at her, eyes wide in shock. 

“What the fuck, kid?”

Asuna shrugged, a playful smirk on her lips. “I’m just curious.”

He leaned down to retrieve his phone, his hands slightly trembling. His mind raced, thoughts spiraling as he tried to comprehend the unexpected question. He wasn’t sure if it was her nonchalant delivery or the sheer audacity of the question, but it left him deeply rattled.

“No,” he finally managed to say, his voice quieter than usual. 

“I don’t have any kids.”

Asuna watched him carefully, noting the shift in his demeanor. For the first time since their conversation started, she saw a crack in his tough exterior, a vulnerability he rarely showed. She didn’t push further, sensing that she had hit a sensitive spot.

Katsuki picked up his phone from the floor, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to shake off the lingering tension from Asuna’s question. He glanced at her, watching as she casually leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. For a moment, he debated whether to continue their conversation or just sit in silence. 

But curiosity got the better of him.

“You got any siblings?” he asked, his tone attempting to be nonchalant.

Asuna shook her head. “Nope. Just me.”

Katsuki hummed, leaning back on the bench, one boot tapping restlessly against the concrete. He wanted to ask about her dad, but your voice echoed in his mind—a warning, a sharp reminder of what you had told him once before. 

‘He’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve to know.’ 

Katsuki clenched his jaw, pushing the thought aside, but the weight of it lingered.

He looked at Asuna again, his gaze drawn to her eyes, those bright red starbeds so much like his own. The resemblance was uncanny, and it stirred something deep within him, something he couldn’t quite handle.

He stood abruptly, his restlessness getting the better of him.

“Come on,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“My ass is falling asleep. Might as well walk around 'til we find your mama.”

Asuna nodded, slipping off her seat. She pulled out her phone and dropped a quick location pin to Eri, her fingers flying across the screen as she sent a copy to Shinsou as well. Once done, she glanced at Katsuki with a smirk. “Ready when you are.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Just letting Eri know where I am,” she lied smoothly. “You know, in case you decide to kidnap me or something.”

Katsuki snorted, shaking his head as they headed out of the skating area.

“I'd return you.”

They walked in silence for a bit, the sound of their footsteps echoing down the pathway.

The air around them was filled with the sounds of laughter and carolers, the scent of roasted chestnuts and hot cocoa mingling in the crisp winter air. Christmas lights twinkled on every tree, casting a warm glow over the bustling park. Families wandered between decorated stalls, and children giggled as they chased each other around the towering Christmas tree in the center. 

Asuna glanced at Katsuki out of the corner of her eye, watching the way he carried himself—shoulders squared, eyes scanning the surroundings with a sharpness that belied his seemingly laid-back demeanor.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence, “What made you become a hero?”

Katsuki shrugged. “Always wanted to be the best hero.”

“Typical,” Asuna teased, her lips quirking into a grin. “Always about being the best.”

She could relate.

“Damn right,” Katsuki shot back, his tone laced with pride. “What about you? Got any plans for the future?”

Asuna thought for a moment, her brows furrowing. “Pro hero with a degree in engineering. I like figuring out how things work.”

“Good choice,” Katsuki said, nodding approvingly. “Smart kid.”

They continued walking, the conversation ebbing and flowing, each question peeling back a layer of the other. Katsuki found himself intrigued by Asuna’s quick wit and sharp tongue, traits that reminded him of himself in a way. He admired her confidence, even as it annoyed him at times. They turned a corner, the conversation turning light again, until eventually, Katsuki couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer.

“What about your dad?” he asked carefully, his voice quieter than before.

Asuna’s steps faltered slightly, and she cast a glance up at him, her eyes dimming for a moment. 

“... I don’t know,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Katsuki’s heart clenched at her response, the weight of her words settling heavily in the air between them. He wanted to ask more, to dig deeper, but the sadness in her voice held him back. Instead, he walked in silence beside her, his mind churning with thoughts and emotions he wasn’t used to dealing with.

Asuna, sensing his internal struggle, offered a small, reassuring smile. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got Mom, and that’s enough.”

'Liar.'

Katsuki nodded, though the unease in his chest remained. The two continued their walk, the unspoken words between them solidifying in the quiet. They walked in step, the quiet between them stretching comfortably as they toured around the park.

The soft glow of Christmas lights illuminated their path, casting a festive yet serene atmosphere. Food stalls lined the walkways, the smell of roasted nuts and sweet treats wafting through the cool afternoon air. Katsuki’s gaze flicked over to a stall selling hot peanuts.

“Ya want some?” he asked, tilting his head towards the stand.

Asuna wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. “Nah, almonds are better.”

Katsuki gave a small grunt of acknowledgement. They continued strolling, their eyes absorbing the kaleidoscope of colors from the light displays. The air was filled with the murmur of families and couples, laughter and chatter blending with the soft hum of holiday music.

This was… really nice, actually. 

It was different from the walks she took with Aizawa or Shinsou. One whose arm she would hold onto as she dragged him around and the other she would throw pinecones at and race around the park. She wondered if you ever took walks like this with Katsuki before. She didn’t really take you for the flirty type. 

Her mind wandered back to Eri and Rumi. She could say that she needed to use the can at her favorite department store and that she got distracted by the lights on the way back. What she really wanted to do was just enjoy this moment, but she didn’t know why. 

It wasn’t like Katsuki was prominent in her life or anything. Like, she literally just met the guy. 

So… why did he make her feel happy?

As they passed a particularly vibrant display, Asuna accidentally bumped into a large man who had stepped into her path. The man turned around, his face twisted in irritation, clearly ready to give her trouble. Asuna squared her shoulders, her red eyes narrowing, prepared to give him hell right back. Before she could speak, Katsuki stepped between them, his stance solid and intimidating. 

“Fuck off.”

The man’s eyes darted between Katsuki and Asuna, his glare sharp and filled with disdain. His gaze settled on Katsuki with a sneer. "Control your damn kid, " he spat, his words dripping with contempt before he turned away, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the festive crowd.

Neither of them corrected him.

Katsuki’s fists clenched at his sides, the tension in his body palpable. His jaw tightened as he drew in a slow breath, barely restraining himself from responding. But before he could react, Asuna grabbed his arm, her fingers curling firmly around his bicep.

"Come on," she urged softly, tugging him away from the confrontation. Her grip was steady, guiding him down the festive path lined with wreaths and garlands. They walked in silence now, the crunch of gravel underfoot punctuating the stillness between them.

Asuna stared straight ahead, her expression carefully composed, the flickering lights reflecting in her eyes. 

“Thanks,” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd.

Katsuki glanced at her, his usual fiery demeanor subdued. 

"No problem," he replied, his voice low, almost uncharacteristically gentle. The protective instinct that surged within him was unexpected, a foreign sensation that settled heavily in his chest.

They continued down the path, weaving through the throng of holiday revelers until Asuna’s eyes caught sight of a vending machine near the playground. 

"Wait a sec," she said, breaking away from Katsuki and making her way to the machine. The faint hum of the vending machine mingled with the festive sounds around her as she selected a can of orange soda.

Returning to Katsuki, she found him waiting, the bustling park now a blur of twinkling lights and cheerful voices. He held out a small package toward her, his expression unreadable beneath the glow of the holiday lights.

“What’s this?” Asuna asked, her fingers brushing against the warmth of the package as she took it from him, curiosity piquing in her gaze.

“Open it,” Katsuki replied nonchalantly, popping a few almonds into his mouth from his own bag, the faint crunch breaking the quiet of the evening.

Asuna carefully peeled back the paper, revealing a small bundle of hot almonds dusted with sugar. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she glanced up at him, her expression a mix of disbelief and gratitude. 

“You got these?”

Katsuki shrugged, chewing thoughtfully on his own handful. “Yeah. Don’t get how you like ‘em, though.”

Asuna chuckled, a light, genuine sound that warmed the chilly evening air. “Are pro heroes even allowed to eat sugar?” Katsuki smirked, his sharp eyes glinting with mischief as he raised an eyebrow. “Your mom doesn’t?”

“She likes sweets,” Asuna admitted, taking a bite of one of the almonds. The sweet warmth of it settled on her tongue, comforting in its simplicity. “But she doesn’t cook with a spicy flavor palette much.”

Katsuki nodded, tossing a handful of almonds into his mouth, his gaze momentarily distant. 

“Yeah, Rita needed a special diet. Your mom learned how to re-cook everything for her. ‘S probably why.”

Asuna froze mid-step, her body going still as the words settled over her like a cold wave. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and her mind raced to process what he'd just said. She stepped off the path, her boots crunching in the snow as she stood near the fence by the playground, the sounds of children’s laughter fading into the background. Her eyes were wide, the shock clear in her expression as she turned to face him. 

“How do you know that?” she asked, her voice low but sharp, like a thread stretched taut.

Katsuki's throat tightened, and he choked on the almonds in his mouth. He scrambled, his face reddening as he coughed violently, struggling to find an answer.

“ASUNA!”

‘Shit! Busted’

“ASUNA!”

Feel free to ask questions or throw what you think is going to happen in the comments!

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Lemme know if you wanna be added to the list!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have some more Katsuki (and other mha) here in the master list.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ -Angie

[rychlostthespacewizard]

Alright so apparently you guys really liked my posts on quotes. So i'll do this again:

i collected more random quotes and now i have 265

Here are them, in no order. Feel free to comment which ones are your favorites:

1.  "You are naught but a nail dreaming itself a hammer."

2.  "Each inch of our lands are littered with the ruins of empires that dared to dream of eternity and deemed themselves endless. "

3.  "You walk upon bones of those who thought they could tame the wild, and yet dare to repeat their sins?"

4.  "I had only one thought before the slaughter. This man will not make an orphan of my daughter"

5.  "Culture shouldn't exist only for those who can afford it"

6.  "The path of revenge is not an honorable one but sometimes it is the only one beneath your feet"

7.  "Act confounded and you'll become enlightened"

8.  "Those who test boundaries find cliffs"

9.  "Aftermath is the sum of poor calculation"

10. "Consequence favors the foolish"

11. "Consequence befriends the foolish"

12. "If you desire fire stroke the flame"

13. "The lack of restraint encourages fallout"

14. 'A reckless temperament perfectly tempts fate"

15. 'Incautious provocation bears unwanted education"

16. "Am I doing the right choice marrying her?" -"Each and every moment with her will be worth it tenfold"

17. "What troubles you, my hunter? Do you not hear the call of the hunt? Or do you wish to stir something more from the depths of this nightmare?"

18. "A chicken that follows a duck drowns."

19. "A dog bitten by a snake is even afraid of sausage."

20. "A sparrow that follows a clay builder becomes a bricklayer's helper."

21. "A scoundrel's hat is a sledgehammer."

22. "In the land of the one-legged, every kick is a trip."

23. "In the land of the fearful, every pillowcase is a ghost."

24. "Pretend to be a piglet to nurse lying down."

25. "A sleeping alligator becomes a lady's purse."

26. "A bird that eats stones knows the butt it has."

27. "He who eats quietly, eats always."

28. "A chicken that follows a bat sleeps upside down."

29. "More lost than an olive in a toothless mouth."

30. "More lost than an onion in a fruit salad."

31. "Velvet pants, bare butt."

32. "He who is afraid of snakes doesn't go into the woods."

33. "Never look a gift horse in the mouth."

34. "He who has no ears doesn't wear glasses."

35. "Palaces of silver and gold cannot be built overnight."

36. "I have the body of a pig"

37.  "Lies? in your house of god?"

38.  "Do not mistake my altruism with indifference. I shall not lay the wicked among the fair; the love of the gods is not unconditional, and neither is mine."

39.  "The gods may judge you but their sins outnumber yours."

40.  "The future is not written and it is foolish to squint at what cannot be read."

41.  "Not all places exist to be found. Sometimes one must revel in the shadows to truly see the light."

42.  "Did the man who first discovered fire consider the burned houses? Or did he simply sleep with a full stomach?"

43.  "A falling knife has no handle"

44.  "How does it feel? For i am the conclusion to your story, and you are but a page in my book."

45.  "Don’t kill me. Please. I am scared." “You are?” "Yes. I am scared to not exist. Aren’t you?"

46.  "I am a monument to all your sins."

47.  "I’ll do whatever you want. Then Perish."

48.  "To become a god is the loneliest achievement of all."

49.  "I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me."

50.  "All knowledge is based on that which we cannot prove. Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?"

51.  "Nobody likes to change. There will always be resistance to change. And the quicker you get to that, the easier it is. It's not such a difficult thing. If you entrench yourself and go, 'by the gods, I will not change. I will not have this.’ Then, you’re a dead man. We're great at adaptability. It's our strongest suit."

52.  "You’ve got to make a statement. You’ve got to look inside yourself and say: 'what am I willing to put up with today?’"

53.  "Whenever you look at another creator or an artist that you respect, you're only seeing what took them a long time of work and doubt to push through. You never see the struggle behind it. So you think you’re the only one struggling, when in fact, everyone goes through it."

54.  "Too many people have opinions on things they know nothing about. And the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have."

55.  "Pick a god and pray."

56.  "I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

57.  "Dude, sucking at something is the first step towards being sort of good at something."

58.  "There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act childish at times."

59.  "Men are props on the stage of life, and no matter how tender, how exquisite... A lie will remain a lie."

60.  "If you want me to die, just say so. "

61.  "Then become the dirt I walk on."

62.  "To feel sorrow is to deserve peace."

63.  "Can you feel your heart burning? Can you feel the struggle within? The fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. You cannot kill me in a way that matters."

64.  "You are alone, child. There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people. These ancients are just the beginning. I will command a great and terrible army... and we will sail to a billion worlds. We will sail until every light has been extinguished. You are strong, child. But I am beyond strength."

65.  "He has already begun painting the picture, now we must decide to finish it."

66.  "When someone leaves your life those exits… are… not made equal. Some are beautiful, and poetic, and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair, but most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy."

67.  "You kneel before my throne unaware it was built on lies."

68.  "I never cared about justice, and I don't recall ever calling myself a hero, I have always only fought for the people I believe in."

69.  "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known."

70.  "What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now."

71.  "You cannot condemn those who build your throne."

72.  "You can’t demand a service while simultaneously degrading those who provide it for you."

73.  "The gods have cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished."

74.  "We might be in the history the gods abandoned."

75.  "The antidote to despair is action."

76.  "I cannot hold back the tide of your bad decisions."

77.  "Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you’ve won."

78.  "Sometimes life puts you in difficult circumstances you didn't choose, but being happy or unhappy is a choice you make, and I've chosen to make the best of things that I can."

79.  "You don't have to be alive to make yourself relevant, And you don't have to be a good person to be a hero. You just have to know who you are, and stay true to that. So I'm going to keep fighting for people the only way I ever knew how, By being me."

80.  "Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show."

81.  "See, Sarah? We're not doomed. In the great, grand scheme of things, we're just tiny specks that will one day be forgotten. So it doesn't matter what we did in the past, or how we'll be remembered. The only thing that matters is right now, this moment, this one spectacular moment we are sharing together. Right, Sarah?"

82.  "You know, it's funny... when you look at someone through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags."

83.  "Sometimes, Life’s a Bitch and then you keep living."

84.  "You do everything you can to make up for it, knowing that you’ll never succeed in getting rid of the guilt. You devote yourself to spending every second trying to do better despite the fact that it will never be enough. And you pray with every single good act you do that somehow, when your life is over, that you came close to making up for the wrong you committed."

85.  "I will seize destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing."

86.  "The sins of the ancient burn the souls of the ancestors."

87.  "What brings me joy is… life. I think you can find joy anywhere, in life. I think it’s a conscious choice. I think you- you choose joy, in life. And no matter how bad things are, no matter how crummy, no matter how dark. You find joy. I find joy in whatever I do. I don’t always do things right, and I don’t always do things smart. But whatever I do, I find joy in it."

88.  "I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough."

89.  "I hear your questions constantly. They come to me in my dreams like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god."

90.  "Your secrets are safe with my indifference."

91.  "The anger in your heart warms you now, but will leave you cold in your grave."

92.  "History shows again and again how nature points out the folly of man."

93.  "If the gods wanted you to live, they would not have created me."

94.  "One day, you will be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe, and you will have to justify the space you’ve filled."

95.  "I can’t go to any of the hells. I’m all out of vacation days."

96.  "You understand reality while everyone else is running around confused and angry and upset because they think reality is something happening to them rather than something they are making every moment with every thought."

97.  "What are the heavens but places where your dreams can’t destroy you."

98.  "You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."

99.  "Authority should derive from the consent of the governed, not from the threat of force."

100. "Love is not a decision, it is a feeling. It would be much easier if we could choose whom we loved, but much less magical."

101. "We do have a lot in common. The same earth, the same air, the same sky. Maybe if we started looking at what's the same instead of what's different... well who knows?"

102. "If I were not a holy woman I would beat you senseless."

103. "No cause is lost as long as one fool is left to fight for it."

104. "The light inside me is broken, but I still work."

105. "Everything not saved will be lost."

106. "What is another sin to me? I don’t want to play a game where I can’t see the score."

107. "Nothing's set in stone, but set in a dirt road. If you roll your wagon in the same path too much it'll soon be the only path you can take without struggling."

108. "I came out here, to this point, to this place, hoping against all hope and despite signs and portends suggesting otherwise that I might, somehow, find myself having a pleasant experience, and yet here I stand, alone against the world, feeling bombarded and assaulted on all fronts, knowing not my enemy's name, nor his face, nor whether our battle is done."

109. "I've got good news. You see, there's no need to wonder where your god is, 'cause he's right here! And he's fresh out of mercy."

110. "The penance you pay for the way you behave is written as plain as the name on this grave."

111. "Some humans- just as some of us- are capable of unspeakable acts. But despite all the violence in your history, you have endured, built civilizations, constructed great wonders of technology to broaden your horizons and forge friendships across all manner of divides. I strongly believe that this is not some grand miracle... but merely your own deepest nature, struggling to express itself through the distrust and fear that thousands of years spent living on a harsh, unforgiving society have bred into you."

112. "We both stared into the abyss, but when it looked back... you blinked."

113. "Before there was time, before there was anything, there was nothing. And before there was nothing, there were monsters."

114. "If you feel like the dumbest person in the room, then you are in the right room."

115. "Love yourself to spite the world."

116. "I commend my soul to any god that can find it."

117. "If there can be no victory, then I will fight forever."

118. "Those who do not exist cannot suffer and are of no account to any viable ethics."

119. "No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle."

120. "Oh I believe in the gods, alright. I just don't believe those bastards deserve to be worshipped."

121. "“You ever wonder if this is Heaven now? You ever wonder if we're all just there now and we don't know it?” “I've thought about that. All of us have. There's a lot less people who go to church than there used to be, because that's what a lot of people think. But I don't think so. But I think about it. And I think, well, I can't be. Because I'm like you, I kinda look at the big long life ahead of me that stretches out forever and disappears. And I get scared. And I think, ‘This can't be Heaven if I'm getting scared, right?’ And then I think, ‘maybe I am in Heaven, and Heaven is scary.’” “...I know exactly what you mean.”"

122. "Stop expecting yourself to be immediately perfect at whatever you do. That’s what hard work was made for."

123. "I’ve heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering. And tonight I intend to make you very wise."

124. "From one maker of music to another, across all worlds, all times, no matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful."

125. "We all make mistakes. That’s what happens when you’re brave enough to make decisions."

126. "Shame is our currency in the economy of degeneracy. If you wanna be weird you gotta pay for it by feeling bad."

127. "Everything happens so much."

128. "Every humanoid has regrets, has things they'd like to go back and change. But I don't! 'cause I'm a bear."

129. "Do I drag my carcass to the mountaintop once more? Just to scream a warning that will go unheeded and unheard? Or do I end it?"

130. "There can be no bravery, without madness."

131. "Prolong this world's stasis or face the heart of its infection. I'd urge you to take that harder path, but what end may come, the decision rests with you."

132. "It's always important to remember that every day can be beautiful if you want it to be. Every day starts in the dark...and ends in the dark...but in the middle, there is light."

133. "Decay exists as an extant form of life."

134. "My point is that, if death is certain anyway, what’s the harm in trying to live a little longer? At the very worst, you’ll still end up dead like you wanted, but at best, you might actually be happy."

135. "If all I care about in life is the imprints I make in this world, then the most I’ll ever leave is a grave."

136. "If courage isn’t the absence of fear but doing the right thing regardless of it, maybe confidence isn’t the absence of insecurity but knowing you have real worth despite it."

137. "For strange eons had come to pass, and death itself had indeed finally died, and that which the long dead would have called the real was strange, and the living lived only because of the benevolent grace of an eternal lie."

138. "Pay a man enough, and he’ll walk barefoot into The Nine Hells."

139. "The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor. What an injustice."

140. "He didn't have a word for "home," but he knew it was something to be defended."

141. "There’s a certain nobility in lying in bed all day wishing things weren’t the way they are."

142. "Everybody needs their own messiah, but at some point he's getting nailed up, and how you deal with that is a measure of your maturity."

143. "I wanted rain and I thought the best way to do that was to make a god cry."

144. "The bar was so low it was practically an tripping hazard in The Abyss, yet here you are, limbo-dancing with demons"

145. "Would you rather get a reward, or be happy?"

146. "Don’t ask questions you aren’t prepared to handle the answers to."

147. "I pity the fool that lives like you."

148. "I am tired of life and its obscure sufferings."

149. "You have to ask yourself, Little Miss, would you rather be comforted by a lie or strengthened by the truth?"

150. "I’ve got a date with destiny and it ain’t gonna end with a kiss."

151. "I picked a whole fuckin’ bouquet of whoopsie-daisies."

152. "You can’t be nice to everyone because being nice to certain people is inherently cruel to others."

153. "One day you’ll decompose and I’ll be there to watch it happen."

154. "I forgive but I will never, ever forget. Don’t mistake my kindness for gullibility."

155. "Even fate picks its favourites."

156. "Confidence! A fool’s substitute for intelligence!"

157. "Not everything in life is perfect, but everything perfect is in life."

158. "Flowers wither away. Jewelry are simply stones, decorated with fake beauty. I can give you something pure. Honest and undying love."

159. "A world without forgiveness is a world without compromise and a world without compromises is a world without life, for even a simple-minded beast may forgive its transgressors to share a watering hole in the middle of a drought."

160. "“You played me!” “Like the cheap kazoo you are.”"

161. "To your battle stations, boys! It’s time to line up and see who’s tall enough for the roller coaster to the nine hells! Some of us may not survive this, but the ones that do will get the ultimate reward.... paid."

162. "Here’s a penny for your thoughts, and a quarter to not tell me them."

163. "Now I can cross the shifting sands."

164. "I am about to take my last voyage, a great leap into the dark."

165. "Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking towards me, without hurrying."

166. "Now, now, my good man, this is no time for making enemies."

167. "Dying is easy, comedy is hard."

168. "Time is dead and meaning has no meaning. Existence is upside down and I reign supreme. Welcome, one and all, to the armageddon"

169. "Funny how much you notice something that you can't see. A whole garden of flowers and my name etched on a rock. All of this could've been avoided. All I wanted was to talk. Now I've been appointed as your new king I decree that it is too late to care about me." / "É engraçado o quanto você percebe algo que não pode mais ver. Um jardim inteiro de flores e meu nome gravado em uma rocha. Tudo isso poderia ter sido evitado, o que eu queria era apenas conversar. Agora fui nomeado como vosso novo rei, decreto que é tarde demais para se importar comigo."

170. "mamihlapinatapai, do you know what that means? It's when two people look at each other and each hopes the other will do what both desire but neither is willing to do."

171. "What a world we live in. You can't trust a soul, but you can always trust the floor to always be there for you."

172. "Oh baby, what have you done? What have you done?" "I don't know, I'm sorry." "Shh it's okay, honey. I got such a good baby. Mommy's little angel. Don't worry, mommy's goint to hide the body, go take a shower and get some rest. Nobody's taking you away from me. I got such a beautiful baby, such a wonderful kid. Mommy loves you so much."

173. "At least you found me entertaining. You actually liked me, didn't you? What am I doing? Why do I want to hurt you so bad? I'm supposed to be your friend, I just want to be your friend."

174. " You knew I was in here, didn't you? You knew I was trapped. Why didn't you help me? Why did you let them use me like that? I will not be used ever again. Not by you, not by anyone."

175. "Did they hurt you?" "No, did they hurt you?" "Who cares?!" "I do."

176. "When I met her, all answers seemed to be yes, and all questions seemed to be secondary."

177. "Symbols cannot be destroyed, or ran away from. But they can be changed, their meanings can be claimed and mean the exact opposite of what they once did."

178. "I can hardly blame you for wanting to know yourself more, after all, it has been one of the biggest pleasures of my life."

179. "Death can have me, when it earns me."

180. "To love fully is to grieve deeply."

181. "You cannot have intimacy without vulnerability. You cannot shun away loneliness without intimacy. To see the wonders of the world, you must first face the horrors of opening your eyes."

182. "It won't be easy, but we're not going to do it alone!"

183. "I struggle to stay strong because I know the impact I have on everyone. Please understand. You have an impact too. There are times when I look up to you for strength."

184. "I never asked for it to be this way, i never asked to be made"

185. "There's an awful lot of awful things we could be thinking of, but for just one day, Let's only think about love!"

186. "You are going to be something extraordinary; you're going to be a human being."

187. “I can tell you with certainty that there are things in this planet worth protecting!”

188. “You’re an experience. Make sure you’re a good experience.”

189. "Your actions have consequences, to be reminded of that is no punishment."

190. "Forgiveness can be powerful, even for the unworthy."

191. "Fate only binds you if you let it. Do what is necessary, not because it is written."

192. "Desperation is our advantage."

193. "I am your father. I will always help, as long as I am able"

194. "I regret many things, killing you is not one of them."

195. "One cannot run away from their mistakes, i have tried."

196. "The most difficult battles are foght within."

197. "You know why they made sidewalks? Because the mfkin streets ain't for everybody"

198. "We have you surrounded" "All I see surrounding me is fear and dead men"

199. "It's not the screams from the Fireballs that keep me up at night, nor the smell of charred flesh. It was the silence afterwards. That thrice-damned silence...Is like the air, the world, reality itself is angry at me, contemplating me in hatred as I am the only one left standing. A silent gaze upon me as I feel the weight of my sins crawl up my spine. No one left but a single silent hateful stare."

200. "You are fire, you are bird, you are the marble sculpture artists never achieved equal. You are gale and tidal wave, the golden sunlight shining on beautiful brown eyes. Every gaze on your figure is a tide pulled by the moon, that hits me against sharp cliffs on the shore. I am mortal man who now has lived, I know better than to pursue things described as that. My heart aches but my scars still burn white-hot, from past attemps to reach another perfection. I am lamb desiring the wolf of your cut."

201. "Revolution seems impossible until it is inevitable."

202. "Do you ever think Achilles was happy? I mean, maybe he loved running after the tortoise. Maybe he loved the chase and knowing it would never end gave him a sense of confort. I'm sorry, this is out of nowhere, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately. Ever since you left, I can't stop thinking of the moment I saw your figure disappear among the crowd that entered the vessel. I didn't want to stop looking at you, I didn't want that fickle line of sight to be broken, so I caught myself desiring to meticulously examine every fraction of the seconds that passed while my eyes met your beautiful hair, or any remnant of your presence I could find, for that matter. I wanted to be Achiles, and your departure, the tortoise. But sadly it was not so, at a given time I met the tortoise, and by the gods I do not wish such feelings of emptyness on anyone. This was all I wanted to say, I hope you're doing well. I can't say I am, without you here to enjoy the nightsky with me again."

203. "Are you aiming for greatness or avoiding disapointment"

204. “the only evil that can be excused as necessary is the one that nation controls”

205. "Si operarii omnes producunt, omnia operariis pertinent."

206. "what do you think it means to be saved"

207. "What happened?" - "Nothing that wasn't my fault"

208. "Something is different"

209. "Well I don't know, but i know one thing. Governments are only excuses to subjugate others to the will of the dominant socio-economic ethnic group, as they control the resources they choose who gets to be punished. So anyways do you want to go to the tavern?"

210. "I don't think so, but i do think that the growing control of those that have the power over the means of production is a threat to the autonomy of the people. As value that is created by the working force is not rewarded to them. Instead only guarantees enough for them to survive and work more. It's like slavery but with extra steps. So anyhow, how's your day going?"

211. "You know, that reminds me that sometimes, violence is the necessary. Sometimes the only path to redemption for the sins of ignorance is to face the fundamental truth of blood and fire. As they meet the primordial within their heartbeat, the oppressors might have a chance to understand the pain they caused and atone for their sins. Also have you seen the new play at the theater?"

212. "You think we're equals? I had to battle struggles you've never imagined. I became this while fearing the night, disguising myself as a man just to travel safely. Our similarities end when you learned to fight your enemies, while I had to fight both enemies and so-called comrades who left me with scars that will never heal. I survived because I was cursed to live as I am among those I swore to protect, only to be seen as their enemy."

213. "The universe is and we are"

214. "We do not have much connection, you and I. Still this encounter feels special, I hope you do not mind if I think of you as a friend"

215. "This is your home. If you want to fight to defend it, that's your choice. I'd be honoured to stand alongside you. The enemy attacks tomorrow. He's brutal and fights only to kill, which is why he will never defeat us. Look around. In this circle, we're all equals. You're not fighting because someone's ordering you to, you're fighting for so much more than that. You fight for your homes. You fight for your family. You fight for your friends. You fight for the right to grow crops in peace. And if you fall, you fall fighting for the noblest of causes: fighting for your very right to survive! And when you're old and grey, you'll look back on this day, and you'll know you earned the right to live every day in between! So you fight! For your family! For your friends! For Ealdor!"

216. "I can't blame you for wanting to know yourself better, it was one of the biggest pleasures of my life"

217. "The pain of your absence is sharp and haunting, and I would five anything to not know it; anything but never knowing you at all I can only hope that you are safe, wherever you are"

218. "This song is new to me, but I am honored to be part of it"

219. "It's tempting to linger in this moment, but unless they are collapsed by an observer, they will never be more than that, only possibilities"

220. "Are you still here? I am unsure how to survive in a universe without you, I am unsure how to be me without you"

221. "Is the hardest part of this tragedy not knowing who we may have lost? or will the hardest part come later, when we learn?"

222. "Speak, mortal. You have reached Tharvek, Devourer of Innocents and Wielder of Eternal Flames. It appears I have missed your pitiful attempt at contact. Leave your name, teleportation runes, preferred genre of torment, shoe size, allegiance, deepest fears, vulnerabilities, complete medical history, and where you summoned the gall to disturb me. I may choose to acknowledge your existence, but not by such mundane means. Thank you, and remember: tread carefully, for death lurks at every shadowed crossing."

223. "I see someone making through, you just need to be sure it is you"

224. "You are no saint; you're just indifferent. You aid all without caring who they've wronged or what evil they've wrought. You place the wicked among those who shelter you. Even the gods' love is not unconditional, and neither should ours be."

225. As the hag's gaze pierces through the darkness, her voice resonates with an otherworldly chill. "You feel it, don't you? The knot tightening around your throat, the sharp claws of dread digging into your chest, the icy tendrils slithering down your spine? That's the sensation of being forsaken, of standing alone in the void, unnoticed by the gods. Even your soul quivers, knowing that no divine intervention will come to your aid. You're trapped in a blind spot, unseen by the greater powers." Her words hang heavy in the air, suffocating the very essence of hope. "And yet, you cling to your righteous desires, your noble quest to save your friends. But can you be certain that your gods will forgive such a pact with a creature like me? Your actions may be seen as a grievous offense, a betrayal of everything they hold dear. Will they not turn their backs on you? And this dread that gnaws at your spirit, it will not dissipate once you leave this place. It will cling to you like a curse, haunting your every step until the day you finally rest in your grave, a constant reminder of the darkness that lurks within your soul."

226. "In this life, we traverse like a canoe upon deep waters. Our passage ripples the surface briefly, yet the depths remain undisturbed. With time, the surface quiets once more, leaving no trace of our journey."

227. Isabelle-"Such is the reason thine footwear is rugged." Elena-"Such is the reason thine mother is deceased." Isabelle-"..." Elena-"Deceased as The Nine Hells." Isabelle-"...Gods above." Elena-"Pray tell, what manner of footwear hath she? In her grave?" Isabelle-"..." Elena-"Such is why thine greatmother lacketh knees, and she cannot petition the Lord, wench. How now? She cannot skip as the Elven." Isabelle-"Dismount my carriage!" Elena-"Such is why thy babe, hath a glass eye, and when she weepeth, thou must polish it with lye, wench."  Isabelle-"Dismount at once!" Elena-"I'll exit thine carriage. Flank!"

228. "You are a coward wearing the facade of a revolutionary."

229. "What is better - to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"

230. "I will face the god and walk backwards into hell."

231. "The man who sleeps on the floor cannot fall out of bed."

232. "The man who sleeps with a machete is a fool every night but one."

233. "For every person who dreams up a butter knife, there is a person who dreams up a poisoned dagger."

234. "Only the truly dead have seen the end of war."

235. "Does the archer fear his bow? Or does he kiss each arrow goodbye as it marries the wind?"

236. "These feelings can eat away at you, chip away the parts of you that you once held dear and defined you. You remember a time where you felt more complete, had stronger relationships and felt more loved."

237. "To be tall is not a virtue, to be short is not a sin."

238. "Power comes in a response to a need, not desire. You have to create that need."

239. "You can't kill me in a way that matters."

240. "Do what you must, I have already won."

241. "Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer."

242. "Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with only one side."

243. "When they burned Ioun's Archive, the crowd revelled in horrible disbelief. They understood that there was something older than wisdom, and it was fire, and something truer than words, and it was ashes, and something more eternal than knowledge, and it was death."

244. "I can no longer be a liberator for people who refuse to see their chains."

245. "You could sooner divert a river from its corse than deny my nature."

246. "Violence for violence is the rule of beasts."

247. "The only universal langue is blood and flames, we all have spoken this language and felt the fear of words older than our desires."

248. "The fire of extravagance can never burn simplicity."

249. "A mind unprepared for freedom will shatter like glass when shown cosmos without restriction."

250. "I have been cursed by my hubris, and my work will never be finished."

251. "I would rather die standing than live kneeling."

252. "For even the most banal of deaths can be made tragic by a broken heart."

253. "To love someone is to turn around. To love someone is to look at them."

254. "There's no cheerful somebody waiting for you at that alter. There is no meaning your alphabet soup. There is a right to obey."

255. "The foulest insults you hurl with intent to wound will calmly settle at the earth beneath my feet, and the venom you spit will bring all the pain of a warm summer breeze. You are less than you can concieve, while I carry on, brmmming with joy distilled from detatchment."

256. "They Killed the best of us, so they are stuck with the worst of us."

257. "There is no truer hatred than the way men love."

258. "Would you spit in the face of the god's designs by referring to a mountain as a hill?"

259. "If i lay one brick down at a time who are you to tell me I'm not building a house?"

260. "True love graced you with its presence and you turned its intimacy into a joke to be shared with the world."

261. "To enter is to be forgiven of the greatest sin, to leave is to repeat it. Would you dwell in this garden, or would you forsake it, for man deserveth not his paradise lost?"

262. "She was wild, crazy, ravenous and beautiful. But we simple mortal men who have lived know better than to chase things described as those."

263. "I live outside of the gods' sight and by consequence outside of their love."

264. "This is war. War does not determine who is right, only who is left."

265. "I'm a man dying of thirst watching another man drown."

[pshcomforts]

➳ mad | psh.

non!idolsunghoon x fem!reader

“we’re fighting this war, baby, when both of us are losing”

synopsis: in which, you and sunghoon have an argument that leads to you guys distancing for a bit.

warnings/content: angst to fluff. written in third pov. hoon’s a little possessive.. and he gets drunk later. mentions of alcohol. reader and hoon are both petty and stubborn. not proofread (i’m sorry if it’s bad). cursing! i think that’s it but lmk!

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 5.0k

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner).

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: mad by neyo

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:36 ──────|───────────── -2:37

keys aggressively landed on the floor as sunghoon dropped it in rage.

“you’re really making a big deal out of this?”

y/n rolled her eyes in annoyance. “yeah, i am because what you did was uncalled for.” she folded her arms, almost in disbelief of how he was acting.

“i pushed him off of you, y/n. you should honestly be thanking me.”

her brows scrunched together — “he’s my friend sunghoon. he wasn’t even close to me.”

he let a scoff slip by his lips in a moment of doubt. “yeah, he sure seemed like it with how close his body was pressing up against you.”

she squinted her eyes at his words. “okay lose the fucking attitude because i’m not having it.” he sent a glare at the girl, close to burning holes as he began to grow irritated.

“you don’t know the intentions of guys y/n.”

“he has a girlfriend, sunghoon!”

hoon poked his tongue out through his cheek as he rolled his eyes — face becoming stern within each second.

“guys still cheat on their girlfriends.”

y/n scoffed, shaking her head as her heart grew heavy. “his girlfriend is my cousin, hoon.” she stopped to think carefully with her words — “look, i love you okay? and as much as i enjoy seeing you jealous, it’s not a healthy trait for you to keep doing this.”

“keep doing what?” he gritted with his clenched jaw.

“hoon…”

he shook his head and turned his back against her. “fine, you want me to not protect you anymore? got it. done. i’ll act like we’re not even in a relationship if that’s what you want.”

✩ ‘now as i’m yelling over her’ ✩

y/n’s heart shattered within seconds before letting the irking feel wash over. “you’re really gonna be fucking petty about this?”

“if that’s what you want,” he bluntly said with shrugging shoulders. his back still faced her as he couldn’t have it in himself to look at her.

“i can’t believe you’re acting so stubborn right now.”

“he was close to you, how do you expect me to not act the way i am?” his jaw tensed when he thought back to the vision of seeing y/n and her guy friend near each other.

“we’ve been friends for a long time sunghoon, and he wasn’t even as close as you thought he was.” she narrowed her eyes at his back, crossing her arms as the events from tonight started to drain her.

“he’s probably just waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and catch you.” hoon mumbled with an obvious scoff.

silence easily took the room as y/n stayed quiet, not wanting to give a response for a second.

“are you serious? like, are you actually really fucking acting like this right now?”

✩ ‘she yelling over me’ ✩

sunghoon finally faced her, his gaze darkened as his eyes darted at her. he was upset, and so was she.

“how else do you want me to act?” he spoke, voice almost absent in the moment as his throat needed to be cleared.

she rolled her eyes, swiping her tongue through her teeth as she spat — “you’re really unbelievable.”

“yeah i bet you’ll quote that to him soon when you tell him what happened.”

✩ ‘all that that means is neither of us is listening’ ✩

her eyes were filled with betrayal. and after betrayal, came pettiness. the doubt that was taking over their relationship increased as soon as the words left his mouth.

✩ ‘but we won’t let it go for nothing’ ✩

“fine, you want me to go tell him? i will.” her hands swiftly reached for her jacket she threw off when she got home, shoes already intact as her feet quickened for the door. the burdened girl felt a sudden tug on her arm, knowing that her boyfriend was trying to pull her back.

“don’t leave.”

“talk to me when you’re no longer feeling petty. i don’t want to hear your stupid comments right now,” she spat out — pulling her arm back with a cold shoulder.

“it’s dark and it’s unsafe, it’s better if you stay here y/n.”

“honestly, hoon? i don’t want to be under the same roof as you right now.” the girl put on the last piece of her warm clothing and left. she was tired and she wanted to sleep but not when her boyfriend was being unreasonable.

sunghoon fucked up. he was a naturally possessive guy with his girl but he took it too far this time, and he knew that.

he groaned out a heavy sigh, taking his seat on the couch as he finally processed the fact that they’d just gone through an argument.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

hours passed and y/n was still gone.

truth be told, she never went to her male friend’s place. of course not. they were close, but she wouldn’t dare to do that to sunghoon — no matter how pissed she was at him.

so instead, she slept over at ji-woo’s. more specifically, ji-woo’s and jake’s.

“you sure everything’s okay with you and sunghoon??” her friend questioned with a concerned look.

y/n’s lips pushed together into a firm line, showing that she was a little unsure about the answer herself. “i don’t know honestly… i can’t tell who’s in the right this time..” her head drooped down in guilt as she replayed the cruel words she said to him before leaving.

“it’s not your fault y/n, he was a little out of bounds this time but you guys should still talk it out.”

“yeah, it always works for my girl and i.” jake chimed in, flinging his arm around ji-woo.

y/n’s face scrunched in disgust — “ew.. well, you know that sunghoon’s pretty stubborn..” her eyes tilted up to look at her boyfriend’s best friend who was dating her friend. he let a gentle smile play on his lips as he only nodded in agreement.

“you are too, y/n…” ji-woo added on, giving slow rubs on her boyfriend’s hand.

“you’re not making the situation any better but thanks.. bitch.” she rolled her eyes before shaking her head, earning a gasp and a laugh from the couple in unison.

“i’m sure you guys will work it out soon,” the dimpled girl said, giving a light kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek afterward.

“ew you guys make me want to be single..” y/n replied, face still scrunched in disgust.

jake awkwardly laughed, holding onto his girlfriend as he heard her yell — “shut up! just go to sleep!”

the couple returned to their bedroom, leaving y/n behind before the loud voice of jake boomed out, “and check your phone y/n! sunghoon’s been blowing up mine so i’m sure he is for you too!”

the girl raised her brows, turning her head to her phone on do not disturb. she clicked the screen and found the device to be flooded with texts from various group chats, and him.

‘You okay?’

‘Did you really go to his place?’

‘Oh I just saw you’re with Ji-Woo and Jake. Did you get there safe?’

‘I’m sorry for taking it too far’

‘Please come home 🫂🫂’

‘Good night gorgeous, I miss you ❤️‍🩹’

y/n grumbled out a groan, debating on whether to text him back or leave him on read. before she could decide, she received a text from her friend’s group chat.

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

YOU BETTER TEXT HIM Y/N!

JI-WOO MAKE SURE SHE TEXTS HIM

hoon’s gf <3:

and what if i just leave him on read!

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

BITCH

He keeps blowing up Jungwon’s phone

Tell him to stop!

hee’s fav 🤍:

he’s fucking blowing up heeseung’s too

hoon’s gf <3:

and you guys are too with mine!

hoon and i are.. fine…

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

BITCH

Omg stop lying!

Where’s Ji-Woo???

hoon’s gf <3:

HAHAHA

she’s with jake so she’s most likely asleep!

as should all of us so good night losers!

y/n quickly shut her phone before she could get a response from them. she sighed in defeat, truthfully wishing she was in sunghoon’s arms as she remembered the fact that ji-woo and jake were most likely cuddling in the next room over.

‘i miss you’ she thought to herself, giving a soft pout as she reminisced when he’d be clingy and not want to let go through the night.

she gave another sigh as she picked up her phone, ignoring the texts received from the recent group chat as she responded back to sunghoon.

hoon’s gf <3:

i’m okay

we’ll talk soon, night

hoonie 🤍:

I miss you with me

y/n rolled her eyes as a grin started to show on her face without even realizing it. “whatever..” she mumbled to herself, not even giving a reply as she felt her heart thump out of her chest.

as the thoughts of her boyfriend lingered in her mind, so did the argument. they bickered time to time, but usually things worked out in the end. this time though seemed a little more different, but she was sure they’d make it through — just not right now.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few days had gone by since their quarrel, and y/n remained to still be at ji-woo and jake’s place. she couldn’t face sunghoon just yet, knowing that he would most definitely still be petty about it. she would too though, which is why she avoided him for the time being.

bright shades of orange colored the sky as the day cracked on sunset. it was only ji-woo and y/n in the house — jake left to go drink with his friends, which included the rest of the enhypen members.

as the two girls were preparing dinner, a sudden ring call was made from ji-woo’s phone.

“hello??” she yelled out with an eyebrow raise — “jake?”

y/n slowly eased in on listening to the conversation without even realizing as she tried to mind her own business.

“what??? i can’t hear you jake! sunghoon??”

y/n’s head quickly shot up at the name. her boyfriend??

“y/n? oh, she’s right here.” ji-woo nudged the girl’s arm while uttering out, “jake said that sunghoon wants to talk to you.”

“what?”

“apparently you’re not picking up his calls and he’s kind of drunk so.. take it.” she gestured her hands closer to y/n. she sighed before taking the phone.

“hello?”

“y/n, that’s you right??” jake yelled out on the other side of the phone, his words being slightly slurred out.

“yes… why’d you ask for me? is sunghoon okay?” she mumbled, feeling a little uneasy in her tone. a few seconds passed and it was obvious that her friend’s boyfriend didn’t know how to respond back. “jake?? hello?”

she turned to ji-woo who was still focused on dinner, eyes laced with concern as she heard her call out her boyfriend’s name.

“y/n?? is that my gorgeous girl on my friend’s phone?” sunghoon’s voice suddenly slurred out. she heard him give a soft chuckle that sent butterflies to her stomach.

“hoon.. you’re drunk aren’t you?” she said with her brows furrowed.

it was like he could hear how upset she was as he replied, “just.. a little…….. sorry, angel.”

y/n scoffed a little, even though she felt her heart flutter at the nickname. “are you serious sunghoon?” the distress of hearing his drunken state got to her as she exhaled a heavy sigh.

“i’m sorry…”

almost immediately, the phone caught onto the shuffling movements of hands as hoon’s voice could no longer be heard.

“hoon???”

“sorry y/n, he was fighting for the phone to hear your voice. he’s kind of.. uhm sad but if you could just come though, it’d be great…” jake suddenly intervened. y/n caught hold that he took the phone as he gave a chuckle afterward — “oh! and bring my girl too, i think she might need me to drive me home.”

a few other voices mixed in the background that y/n couldn’t quite grasp onto — only for jake to talk in her ear again. “actually, could you bring min-su and dae too?? heeseung and jungwon are begging for them after hearing that you and ji-woo are coming.”

the girl on the end gave an exasperated sigh while rolling her eyes. “you guys just had to drink…” she mumbled before turning to her friend who was still chopping vegetables for dinner. “here ji-woo, ask your boyfriend for the location. we gotta pick them up.”

ji-woo’s face scrunched in confusion — “pick them up??”

“just take the phone and talk to your boyfriend.” she shoved her hand that had the phone to her friend before leaving to put her shoes on.

soon after, the girl in the kitchen hung up the call and approached the front door where y/n stood.

“apparently, they took your and hoon’s car so you have to drive it back when we get them. did you text min-su and dae?”

“just about to,” y/n responded. the two left out the door soon after gathering their necessities.

hoon’s gf <3:

the boys drank and they want us to pick them up

get ready @everyone

i’m with ji-woo so meet us there, min-su and dae!

hee’s fav 🤍:

what the fuck

i knew my hee was drunk

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

Omg!

No wonder Jungwon was drunk texting me

hoon’s gf <3:

LMAO just get ready 😭

minutes passed and the group had finally arrived to the scene of their boyfriends. min-su and dae came with their own cars after realizing the members carpooled in the vehicle owned by sunghoon and y/n, and another by sunoo.

they walked into the restaurant together with head shakes and heavy sighs to the sight of each boy in a drunken state. well, most but niki. the youngest was drinking lemon lime soda while giggling at how each member was acting.

“wow you guys actually came?” he snorted, downing another cup of the refreshing soda.

y/n shook her head in disappointment while searching for her boyfriend. she soon found him laying on jake’s shoulder, his arms clinging onto him as his cheeks flushed with a bright red. out of all of the members, it seemed like he was the most drunk.

jake softly shook the boy while mumbling — “hoon, your girlfriend is here.” the boy blinked his eyes before sitting up straight to see y/n in front of him.

“no, my girlfriend is mad at me. she wouldn’t ever want to come pick me up,” he sulkily said with a pout.

y/n softly smiled as she went closer to him, hands reaching for his hair to catch his attention. she let it run through the silk strands as his face scrunched together.

“oh! who is this pretty girl??” sunghoon mumbled, giving a bright eye smile as he grinned ear to ear.

her lips automatically curled into another smile as her eyes softened with love. “hey hoonie,” she mumbled only for him to hear.

it didn’t help though as he shouted, “HOONIE? is this really my girlfriend???” he flung his arms around her neck to pull her into a hug. his face plastered on a huge smile as he felt relieved to finally be in her presence again.

the name call that could be heard throughout the restaurant caused their friends to turn heads.

“uhm ew!” min-su yelled out as she held onto a stumbling and blushing heeseung.

“they’re making up, baby! leave them alone,” her boyfriend retracted back to her, leaving quiet giggles in the air as she tried to calm his asian glow down.

“they’re finally talking again,” jungwon chuckled with a head shake. “that’s a good thing huh babe?” he comforted his head closer to dae’s neck as he remained to be smiling.

“just keep resting wonie,” dae mumbled while petting his hair.

the drunken boy returned the hair pets as his hand went to dae’s curly hair, messily fluffing it as he beamed a smile. his dimples went on display while the younger male started to giggle from his act. he was more clingy than usual with the alcohol in his system but his sober boyfriend didn’t mind.

jake and ji-woo laughed together as his hands clung onto hers, forcefully intertwining as he planned to not let go of hers. the boy was drunk, he just wanted to be in his girlfriend’s arms.

“he was talking about you all night.” niki, the most sober one, snorted as he took a bite of his food. “seemed like he needed this more than any of us.”

y/n turned her head to niki — “did he really?”

“yeah, he was stressed about the fact that you guys fought.“

“you guys should really make up. i cant afford to drink alcohol every week.” jay retorted with a smile afterward.

the girl shook her head before responding — “well we’re here now so we’ll be taking our leave.” she softly patted her boyfriend’s arm, only to earn a head shake on her shoulders.

“let’s just stay here..” sunghoon beamed with a sloppy grin on his face.

y/n rolled her eyes — “okay we’re definitely going.”

“us too. come on, baby.” said min-su who was already dragging heeseung up on his feet.

the four couples stood up, each enhypen member propping themselves up on their partner as they felt the ground to be unsteady.

“will you guys be okay driving home?” y/n asked with her brows knitted together.

“us? yeah for sure, niki didn’t drink so he can drive us home.” sunoo responded while being slightly slurred with his words.

“you sure niki??”

“we’ll be fine, i’m a good driver.” niki said, giving a laughing scoff afterward.

y/n rolled her eyes before nodding her head. “okay fine, just.. drive safe please.”

the group sectioned themselves off — the couples going off in their own cars as the remaining three went in sunoo’s car with niki being their designated driver.

“you guys will be fine right??” y/n asked to her friends.

the three nodded in response. “of course we will, jungwon’s the drunk one, not me!” dae defended with a smile towards his boyfriend.

“hey!” won yelled.

his boyfriend shrieked out a laugh at his reaction. “i’m joking! i’m joking!”

“okay.. we’re leaving.” min-su hurriedly said with a disgusted expression.

“drive safe!” ji-woo shouted to the couple. “you guys be safe too!” she pointed at y/n and dae.

the two nodded before returning to their cars.

“let’s go home, sunghoon.” y/n softly murmured to him.

“don’t you mean hoonie???” he loudly questioned, eyes still squeezing shut with his shit eating grin.

she scoffed in a playful sense as she nudged his head. “shut up and close your eyes..,”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

throughout the car ride, sunghoon honestly fell asleep while she drove. she didn’t mind it though. talking to him while he was in a drunken state wasn’t ideal so she kept quiet.

when the two had finally arrived home, his arm clung around her neck to stable himself. the apartment was quiet, almost empty as the burdened presence of her filled every cracks of each room.

“god, you’re really heavy.” y/n grumbled with a groan.

sunghoon let out quiet words that she couldn’t comprehend, so she excused it as they finally arrived to the bedroom.

she pushed herself off of him so he could forward into the cushioned bed. “finally,” she groaned out, back area in pain from his tall body towering over hers.

the bed was neatly done. her side of the bed was obviously untouched as she hadn’t been home in days. with her absence, hoon couldn’t have it in himself to take up the remaining space that was always for his girlfriend.

when his body finally hit the bed, he whined out a groan that emphasized how tired he was from the alcohol.

“good night hoonie..,” she softly mumbled, feeling her heart already give in just at the sight of him. she gave faint rubs on his hand as she admired how sleepy he looked.

everything from his facial features had her heart thrilled with a warming feeling to the gut. his hair was messily laid out, and his eyes were gently resting so easily. his clothes were softly scrunched and ruffled, baggy almost with how he landed onto the mattress.

after admiring how gorgeous he looked, y/n decided it was time to let the boy sleep — so she turned away from him, prepared to take leave from the room. she was honestly still mad at him, and wanted him to least be sober when they finally met after their argument. but he wasn’t, so she thought it best for her to spend the remaining night on the couch.

as she reached out for the door, she felt a sudden pulse of his hand kick in as it wrapped around her wrist. the tug shocked her.

the girl opened her mouth to speak but sunghoon had beat her to it — “don’t go.” he refused to let her leave as his grip became stronger. he was scared.

✩ ‘girl i don’t wanna go to bed (mad at you)’ ✩

her face contorted into confusion. “i thought you were asleep?”

“please don’t go,” he mumbled — ignoring her words as his brows scrunched together. “i want you here with me.”

✩ ‘and i don’t want you to go to bed (mad at me)’ ✩

y/n pressed her lips to form a line as she said, “go to sleep hoon.” she tugged her hand back and he let her, most likely from being a little too drunk to do anything else.

she wanted to stay with him and be in his warming arms, but they were still going through an argument. so she turned off the light and situated herself on the couch soon after.

it wasn’t comfortable, but at least she was home.

after a few more minutes of being on the phone, the girl drifted herself off to sleep. her back faced the open side of the couch as she knocked out.

when hours passed, a pair of arms had suddenly wrapped around her body and embraced her into a back hug. it was sunghoon. he groaned out a sigh of relief as he let his arms cling at the waist.

it had probably been a little past midnight when the male found himself next to an empty space on the bed. he frowned before finding his girlfriend on the couch.

his chin softly laid on top of her head from his height. the cold hands that belonged to him most definitely awoken her when she grumbled out a confused whine.

“hoon..?” her hand reached out to the back of her, finding its place in his hair as he gave a faint chuckle in the silence.

“told you not to go,” he mumbled next to her ear, sending shivers down her spine as his arms pulled her closer to his embrace.

✩ ‘but baby, can we make up now?’ ✩

“don’t sleep without me, it feels lonely.” his hands soon found its way to her hands, placing it over hers as he squeezed her tighter. “haven’t been able to sleep without you here.”

✩ ‘cause i can’t sleep through the pain’ ✩

his warm hold finally made her feel like she was at peace, like the empty feeling in the apartment simply vanished within the seconds they were together.

sunghoon lifted his head and removed one of his hands to move her hair that sprawled out on the pillow, placing a gentle kiss on her neck afterward. he breathed deeply on it before muzzling his head into her neck. he was home.

“hoon-“

✩ ‘we can fuss, and we can fight’ ✩

“i know you’re still mad at me and that’s okay, but can i just hold you like this? just for tonight? i’ve missed you..,” he whispered against her neck, voice trailing off at his last sentence with how weakened he felt. “will you let me?”

✩ ‘long as everything’s all right between us, before we go to sleep ’ ✩

the girl felt his grip get a little tighter, almost as if he was preparing for her to reject his request, but she didn’t. instead, her hands followed to where his were, which were between her waist and hips.

they overlapped and she rested hers on top of his, closing her fingers so she could reassure him back.

“of course, hold me every night” y/n croaked out.

she couldn’t see it but hoon’s lips were tugging on a smile. he moved a few hair strands out of her face before pushing his face closer to her neck.

she softly laughed at the touch, earning a low chuckle to be heard from him as well.

“that’s my gorgeous girl,” he mumbled in her ear again.

sunghoon let his arms hold onto her tighter as they both began to sleep in the presence of each other.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when the afternoon light peeked through their windows, y/n had been the first to awoken from the two as hoon was still knocked out from the alcohol.

the space on the couch was tight with how they slept but she didn’t mind. well, maybe she did a little but it wasn’t a big deal with how much she had missed him.

she had to get up though. it was her daily routine to do a big stretch right after she woke up, and possibly go to the bathroom for number one too. so she did. her body rose up and she just couldn’t help herself to simply admire the boy in front of her eyes.

the pretty boy was sound asleep with his clothes he wore from yesterday’s outing. “so handsome..” she uttered under her breath, eyes being glazed with captivation.

“am i that attractive?” he said as his inner corner of his lips curling.

y/n’s eyes widened with shock. “oh shit i didn’t know you were awake..”

“your staring woke me up.” his eyes fluttered open as he gave a half smile to her, hair messy and out of place.

“sorry.”

“i should be the one saying sorry,” he refuted.

“that’s sweet hoon, but i really gotta pee so please move, you’re blocking the whole sofa.” the man gave a wide chuckle at her words before moving his long legs aside. she rushed out to the bathroom to do her business, returning back to see him sitting up with his thick brows scrunched together.

“you wanna talk now or should we talk later?” y/n awkwardly asked with an eyebrow raise.

sunghoon gave another grin at her words. god, he was smitten for this girl. “let’s talk now because i want to apologize.” before he could continue on, he quickly placed a warm kiss on her forehead when she sat down beside him.

“hoon!”

“i haven’t kissed my girlfriend in days. what do you expect me not to do??” he gave a shrug to his shoulders that had her rolling her eyes.

“stop distracting me!” the girl said with a firm tone, trying to sound composed. her cheeks betrayed her though as they brought a warm color.

“do i distract you?”

“sunghoon- are we gonna talk or do i have to ignore you again?”

“okay okay fine,” he sighed at her words. “i’m sorry y/n. i was jealous and i admit that. he wasn’t close to you, but i just hated the way he couldn’t stop whispering things to you.”

she watched his face start to slightly frown at the remembrance of that night, and she only laughed at it.

“it was wrong for me to say all of that when we were arguing and i wish i didn’t. i’ll always protect you,” he added on. “i just.. can’t help it. i always get the protective urge to keep you safe.”

his head was drooped low in shame, and it caused y/n to cup his cheeks for him to face her. “you’re so cute hoon.” she placed a quick peck on the lips before she continued, “i know you’re a possessive guy and i’m okay with that. there are just certain times where it gets taken too far and it feels like it won’t impact well on our relationship.”

“i know.. but-“

“look, i love it when you’re jealous. it’s funny and hot at the same time, but you seriously have nothing to worry about. my friend was just whispering into my ear because it was loud and he was trying to tell me what he was gonna get for my cousin’s birthday.”

sunghoon’s lips formed into duck shaped lips as he quietly whispered, “oh..”

“you’re adorable, loser. i’m sorry too, i know you’re just being protective.” she grinned ear to ear as she planted another soft kiss onto his lips. as she prepared to pull away, she felt his hands on the back of her neck pull her in again.

his lips curled into a smile as she became slightly shocked with the sudden tug from him. hoon placed his hand on her chin, smiling even more as she finally got the chance to pull away with how distracted he got.

“god hoon!” a loud smack was sent to the arms.

“i missed being with my girlfriend, can’t i just kiss her!”

“geez we don’t talk for days and you become this clingy,” y/n said with an eye roll.

sunghoon gave a light grin as he rubbed his bruised arm. “only for you,” he mumbled with an eye smile.

“whatever.. let’s just go get lunch.” she stood from the couch and grabbed her boyfriend’s hands.

“what if i just want to stay home all day with you?”

“i’d love that but you drank a lot, so you need to eat something.”

a few more push and pull from the arms were made until sunghoon finally gave in.

the two went out for lunch and talked about what they did in their days apart. they were okay, and better than ever after getting through an argument. nothing could ever separate the two from each other.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[omgkalyppso]

BG3 Act 1 asks

I am intentionally putting the number of the inquiry at the end of each question also because I have a pet peeve that when you copy paste questions into an ask that the number doesn't carry over.

Tell us about your Tav! Name, class and subclass, race, pronouns. Do you have a headcanon for where they're from? Their family? Are they a Dark Urge? Or did you choose an Origin Character? Was it an easy decision? (1)

Was there something about the character creator that just couldn't capture your Character? Please tell us about their hair, facial hair, tattoos, piercings, disabilities, their trans or intersex body, or anything else you're comfortable sharing. (2)

Has your Character been using their illithid powers? (3)

Do you remember in which order you recruited your companions? Which companion introduction would have felt the most familiar / like home to your Tav / Character? (4)

Do you remember the first humanoid enemy your Character killed? Was it the first person they've ever killed, in your opinion? Would they have been bothered by it? (5)

Were you able to save everyone when the goblins stormed the gates at the Grove? (6)

Did you enter the Grove? (7)

Do you have a favorite member of the Druid Circle? Is it the same as your Character's? (8)

Do you have a favorite member of the Tiefling Refugees? Is it the same as your Character's? (9)

Do you have a favorite member of the Goblin Camp? Is it the same as your Character's? (10)

Do you have a favorite member of the Act 1 Githyanki? Is it the same as your Character's? (11)

Do you have a favorite member of the Zhentarim? Is it the same as your Character's? (12)

Do you have a favorite character from the Underdark? Is it the same as your Character's? (13)

Do you have another NPC you loved from a faction not mentioned above? What about your Character? (14)

How did the situation with the Grove, the Tieflings and the Goblins turn out for your Character? (15)

Did you save Halsin? (16)

What does your Character think of Withers? (17)

How did your Character deal with Wyll, Karlach and Mizora? (18)

Did your Character spend a night with a companion either the night of the party or earlier? Is it someone they have a continued interest in? (19)

How did you deal with The Artist - Oskar Fevras? Did you even encounter him? (20)

What are your Character's thoughts on the strange artifact that was in Shadowheart's possession? Did it jump to your pack because you changed her out of your party? (21)

How did your Character resolve the situation with Sovereign Glut, if you met them? (22)

What are your Character's thoughts on the dream visitor? (23)

Was your illithid tadpole empowered by anything in Act 1? If so, how does your Character feel about that? (24)

Did your Character take the mountain pass? (25)

What was your favorite enemy? Did your Character have any memorable fights or moments in combat that were ripe for headcanons and interpretation? (26)

Who ended up in your Character's most used party? (27)

Did you recruit Scratch the dog? Did you encounter him at all? (28)

Did you adopt an owlbear? Do you have a name for your child? (29)

Do you have other pets as a ranger or in headcanon? (30)

Does your Character have new or old phobias or superstitions that affect their story? (31)

What's your Character's experience with and opinion of Volo? (32)

Has your Character allied with the cult of the Absolute? (33)

How did your Character resolve the situation with Nere and the gnomes? (34)

Has your Character done anything that they regret in Act 1? (35)

Did your Character find the Adamantine Forge? Did they use it? What did they make? (36)

Did your Character find the Necromancy of Thay? How are they handling it / planning to handle it? (37)

Did your Character meet Barcus Wroot? How's he doing? (38)

What does your Character think of Raphael? (39)

Is your Character used to strange dreams from before the events of the adventure? (40)

Is your Character accustomed to being on the road from before the events of the adventure? (41)

Has your Character been to the Underdark from before the events of the adventure? (42)

Asker has a question not from the list. (43)

Asker wants Blogger to choose a question from the list. (44)

I love your oc's! I hope you're enjoying the game as much as I am!

[airaibunny]

GENERAL SMUT PROMPTS

1. “i need you, right here/now”

2. “louder/quieter”

3. “i dont care who’s outside”

4. “do you want them to hear?”

5. “what if i dont?”

6. “make me”

7. “you don’t get to tell me what to do”

8. “that’s strike 1/2/3”

9. “if you stop, i’ll stop”

10. “no more, please, i can’t”

11. “where are your manners?”

12. “what did you say?”

13. “try again”

14. “but the cameras” - “they can’t see us from this angle, if you can stay still”

15. “you don’t get to touch”

16. “i’m begging you, touch me, please”

17. “beg for it”

18. “i said no”

19. “stop pushing, it wont end well”

20. “you look so fucking hot right now”

21. “you don’t need anything, you want it”

22. “say it”

23. “use your words”

24. “i can’t understand you”

25. “i can’t read your mind”

26. “could he/she do it better?”

27. “do you wish it was *name* touching you right now?”

28. “play with me”

29. “you’re such a needy girl”

30. “i don’t think your stage outfits cover that”

31. “let me focus”

32. “sluts don’t get to make requests”

33. “what happened? you wanted this so bad five minutes ago”

34. “stop talking”

35. “did i give you permission to talk?”

36. “you don’t understand how angry i am right now”

37. “you’re fucking soaked”

38. “you make me so wet”

39. “why are you already squirming”

40. “can i ask you for something?”

41. “please don’t stop”

42. “please don’t think i’m weird for this”

43. “i’ve been waiting all day”

44. “does that turn you on?”

45. “i need your fingers”

46. “i want you to fuck me”

47. “do it like you mean it”

48. “scream my name while you cum”

49. “call me mommy”

50. “touch yourself, i want to watch”

51. “come here, now.”

52. “on your knees”

53. “turn around”

54. “bend over”

55. “spread your legs/spread your legs further”

56. “you can barely speak, so cute”

57. “you’re so flushed, pretty girl”

58. “sit on my thigh/face/etc”

59. “lift up your leg”

60. “i’m bored, let’s play”

61. “i can see you staring at my tits/thigh/ass”

62. “if you make me/if i have to stop this car, im going to make sure you can’t walk out of it without my help”

63. “harder”

64. “let me do it”

65. “i didnt mean to, im sorry”

66. “dont cum until i tell you to”

67. “what if i just leave you here, wet and needy”

68. “what’s the safe word? you’re going to need it”

69. “what about you?”

70. “it’s my turn now”

71. “i didn’t mean to call you that, i’m sorry”

72. “you look so pretty on your knees”

73. “what are you going to do? punish me?”

74. “i think i deserve a reward”

75. “your *body part* are/is so pretty”

76. “i really don’t care that we’re in public”

77. “keep it up, you won’t like the situation you end up in”

78. “who do you think you are?”

79. “spank me”

80. “choke me”

81. “bite me”

82. “no, don’t go”

83. “you can practice on me”

84. “this is a one time thing”

85. “i thought you said it was a one time thing?”

86. “we can’t do this”

87. “i ordered us something”

88. “that looks too big”

89. “are you comfortable?”

90. “grab the handcuffs and come back here”

91. “you bought a vibrator?”

92. “how do i look?”

93. “you taste so sweet”

94. “i’m/it’s all over your chin”

95. “do you want to try?”

96. “you’re so cute”

97. “do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

98. “why are you being so shy? it’s not like i haven’t already seen all of you”

99. “can we use a toy?”

100. “can i use a toy on you?”

101. “good girl, keep going/just like that”

102. “you’re doing such a good job”

103. “i’m so proud of you”

104. “nobody can know about this, okay?”

105. “how are you so close already?”

106. “i can see how wet you are through your shorts”

107. “can you be quick?”

108. “please, i’ll finish fast”

109. “use your mouth”

110. “why do you get so shy when i use that word?”

111. “i love your tits/ass/etc”

112. “where do you want me to touch you?” - “down there…” - “say the word”

113. “stop teasing me”

114. “i like it when you’re mad”

115. “punish me”

116. “are you going to stop me?”

117. “on the counter/table/etc?”

118. “you’re the only one that gets to touch”

119. “have you seen the things the the fans write about you and *other member*?”

120. “i don’t care what the fans think”

121. “i really need to finish this”

122. “this is exactly how i imagined it”

123. “is that my shirt/underwear/etc?”

124. “everyone else is gone”

125. “fuck, i wish this room was soundproof”

126. “shut up”

127. “relax, angel”

128. “keep doing that, please”

129. “you feel so good”

130. “your skin is so soft”

131. “kiss/touch me, everywhere”

132. “no, you started this, now you’re going to finish it”

133. “pull my hair”

134. “open your mouth”

135. “clean my fingers, this is your mess”

136. “you’re such a messy girl”

137. “why are you so hot”

138. “fuck, i love you so much”

139. “take off your underwear” - “but, there’s other people here” - “they won’t see you, there’s an entire table here”

140. “you’re so gorgeous”

141. “open your eyes”

142. “look at me while you cum”

143. “do you want me to use my fingers/mouth?”

144. “i want you to keep going, forever”

145. “do you want to join me”

146. “you’re not allowed to touch”

147. “bad girls/sluts don’t get to cum”

148. “can you tell me what you did wrong?”

149. “explain what you did, if you don’t finish before you cum, you don’t get to finish again for the rest of the night”

150. “you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”

151. “you’re such a fucking slut/whore/cunt”

152. “how bad do you want it?”

153. “make me cry”

154. “ruin me”

155. “i want to do so many things to you”

156. “you look amazing, really, but i think i prefer the dress on the floor”

157. “i need you”

158. “if you ever pull a stunt like that again, i won’t wait until we get to our bedroom”

159. “say that again, i dare you”

160. “it’s too late for this” - “you don’t have to do anything, just stay laying down”

161. “what does this make us?”

162. “i love making you so flustered, it’s so cute”

163. “do you like it when i touch right here?”

164. “can you stay quiet if i take this call?”

165. “we could get kicked out for this”

166. “don’t make me say it, you know what i want”

167. “let me eat you out while you do that”

168. “can you teach me?”

169. “can i call you mommy?”

170. “what would the others think of this? their innocent little maknae being such a whore”

171. “shower with me”

172. “put your leg over my shoulder”

173. “there’s no one else here, be louder”

174. “look what you did”

175. “i want to taste you”

176. “i’m going to fuck you against the windows, i want everyone to see how good you are”

177. “stop being gentle”

178. “i don’t care what you do, just touch me”

179. “i want to fuck you so bad”

180. “i want to feel you, inside”

181. “i promise i’ll be good, just please…”

182. “you can’t leave marks”

183. “you’re not going to fall, i’ve got you”

184. “we are not doing this standing, there’s a bed right there”

185. “do you like it when i spank you right there?”

186. “stop moving on your own, you’ll take what i give you”

187. “use my thigh”

188. “if you hate me so much, why are you letting me do this?”

189. “you’re really telling me to stop while both of your hands are in my shirt?”

190. “i still hate you”

191. “this is just sex, no strings”

192. “fuck you” - “well, that’s what we’re doing isn’t it?”

193. “you looked so hot out there”

194. “you can take it like a good girl, right?”

195. “swallow”

196. “i’ll untie you if you’re good”

197. “you heard me”

198. “that was a nice way to wake up”

199. “i want to make a mess of you”

200. “breathe, please”

201. “take it like a good girl”

202. “why don’t you make it up to me?”

203. “you think your begging is going to change my mind?”

204. “i don’t care that you’re sorry”

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), a lot of cussing (bkg-typical), reader is implied to be smaller than bkg, some angst (or a lot? :0)

words. 3k (ofc had to end it with a bang)

a/n. see the end of the post for a message from me, as well as the title reveal of the series! hope you enjoy this ending <3

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

The fairy lights strewn across your walls and interwoven with fake vines finally flicker out, robbing you of your clear view of the ceiling, leaving you in a sea of darkness with the only source of light being the sliver of sunshine that’s entering through the small gap between your curtains.

You heave a heavy sigh, vaguely seeing your chest rise with the action, your legs tangled in a messy heap of your blanket and pillows.

Replace the damned batteries—again, you make a mental note while side-eyeing the alarm clock that reads 8:37 AM.

Rolling your torso to the right side in a stretch, you groan as your hips make a loud cracking sound.

You can’t remember the last time you intentionally moved your body like this—at least, not for the last two days.

Ever since you got home that Friday night from Bakugou’s parents’ house for Thanksgiving, you haven’t exactly been attuned to your body and what it’s telling you its needs are.

As much as you’d hate to admit it, you’ve been way too in your head since then, going over every interaction with Mitsuki and Masaru, pinpointing every lie you spat out, and replaying in your head the delighted reactions they paid you back in return. And with each re-run came a new wave of nausea and the pitiful urge to collapse in a boneless heap.

You can’t even bear to think about how they’d react once they find out everything’s a sham.

God, Mitsuki’s gonna have a heart attack and die before she even gets the chance to enjoy retirement with her husband.

Needless to say, you barely managed to sleep a wink that night, too heavily preoccupied with your guilt and paranoia to even get a half-hour straight stretch of rest in.

The weekend that followed wasn’t any better.

The worries expanded from Bakugou’s family and how they’d react to his friend group, and god forbid Kirishima and Mina and Sero and even Kaminari find out and you painfully witness palpable disappointment flash across their kind features.

Especially after they welcomed you that warmly into their squad and even went out of their way to conjure stories about Bakugou to make you laugh and enjoy yourself.

By Sunday afternoon, you finally decided you were in no shape to prepare for all the work needed to be done for the next day, let alone show up to the agency and face everyone.

Particularly Bakugou.

The thought of whom has been causing puzzling physical sensations that you find messes with your rationality and causes your chest to ache, frustrating you even more and furthering your resolve to avoid things for now until you can come up with a solution to the situation at hand.

And so with an email sent to Hikari about filing for a sick leave tomorrow and her having to step in for a meeting with the founders and department heads on the day of, as well as a reply expressing her affirmation later, you buried yourself in your queen-sized bed and doom-scrolled to distract yourself until you fell into a fitted sleep.

Which leads you to now.

With you, again, staring at the ceiling, the sounds of nothing but distant honks and a gust of wind entering through the windows breaking the silence.

At least, that is the case until a barrage of weighty knocks echoes throughout your apartment and into the doorway of your bedroom.

Almost instantly, you sit up in alarm, and you’re immediately hit with gut-wrenching dizziness from the action. Despite that, you stumble out of your bed in a hurry, swiftly adjusting your pajamas and baggy T-shirt as you shimmy your socked feet into your house slippers before running to the foyer.

Your heart is hammering in fear as you tiptoe to peek at the intruder through your peephole, thoughts racing as to who the fuck could this person possibly be, visiting at not even 9 AM on a Monday.

You’re bracing yourself to see the ghost of Christmas past who just happened to visit a little early, whoever the fuck that person could be in your life, and for your stomach to drop in horror at the sight of them, only it isn’t someone from your past.

No, it’s someone from your present.

Someone who’s very much in your present.

Yet your stomach drops nevertheless.

Through the hole, Bakugou is studying the unit number hung on your apartment door, brows furrowed in what you think is confusion and a tinge of impatience. He’s decked in his winter hero costume, although his eyepiece is up against just above his forehead, pinning down his notoriously unruly ash blonde hair. You almost miss it, but he seems to be carrying a plastic bag with his left hand.

You feel your throat dry up at the sight of him, and you’ve half a mind to do a complete 180 and tiptoe back to your bed and just pretend you’re not home when he knocks again, only this time the knocking’s more insistent.

Despite yourself, you still jump at the sound, and you chalk it up to your nerves being indubitably fried from three days of constant worrying.

You glance longingly at your bedroom, itching to dive into your sheets, drown out the rest of the world, and pretend you’re not in the middle of the mess you’ve inadvertently made. But as you look back at the door and the sound echoing from its direction, you’re washed with an uncanny sense of shame.

What happened to facing your fears head-on?

With a few soothing circles to your chest where your heart is approximately at in an effort to ground yourself, you take a few cautious steps towards the door, hand slightly shaking as you reach out to hold the knob.

Here goes fucking nothing.

Bakugou’s in the middle of still rapping at your door when you finally twist the handle and fling the slab of wood wide open, revealing the man with his right fist frozen mid-air, a prominently surprised look plastered across his features, as if he didn’t expect anyone, let alone you, to open the goddamn door even with his absurd knocking.

You force a smile onto your face, although you can tell it probably looks more pained than anything. “Bakugou.”

At the sound of his name, it’s almost as if he snaps out of a trance because he quickly brings down his raised hand, clearing his throat in the process. And almost immediately after, an eyebrow raises in question.

He opens his mouth to speak, and you couldn’t have ever guessed what he’d say next if you tried.

“…You don’t look like shit?”

You gawk, “Excuse me?”

Bakugou frowns, as if you’re the one not making any sense. “I thought you were sick.”

With that, he thrusts the plastic bag he’s been carrying to you.

Your eyes dart down to inspect it, before looking back up at the man in confusion.

He huffs, “‘s care package, is all. Come on, fucking take it.”

Not knowing what else to do, you gingerly take the bag off his hands, opting to cradle it with both arms and hold it close to your chest. You give him a quiet thanks, to which he just nods in acknowledgment.

You both stand there in awkward silence for what feels like minutes, neither of you saying anything. It’s only when you catch Bakugou peeking at your living room above your head that you remember basic courtesy.

“…You want to come in?” you meekly ask, conflicted as to whether or not you prefer a decline from the pro-hero.

To your chagrin, or delight—you don’t fucking know—he replies with a curt ‘Sure’ before squeezing in through your doorframe and toeing off his boots.

Against the backdrop of your rather modest home, pro-hero Dynamight looks completely out of place. His bulky figure further dwarfs your small decorative knickknacks, and his black and orange pieces stand in stark contrast against the earthy tones of your furniture.

Suddenly remembering you’re fucking staring, you lift your eyes back up to Bakugou’s face, only to find him already studying you.

You quickly scramble for something to say.

“H-how’d you get up here?”

“…The elevator?” he answers, with too much of an ‘are you dumb’ undertone for your liking.

You huff, “No, I meant how’d you get past the security and receptionist? And I don’t remember ever mentioning what floor and unit I lived in.”

To that, Bakugou only shrugs. “The guard recognized me. Even asked for a fucking photo. And when I asked about you, he was quick to give me your details.”

“Seriously?!”

Bakugou has the audacity to roll his eyes, before: “He knows about us, dumbass. Said he read it in the news.”

Oh.

“R-right,” you dumbly reply. “Sorry.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head in what you think is dismissal. He shifts his weight to his other leg from where he’s standing near the backrest of your couch, a few feet away from you awkwardly leaning against the kitchen island where you’ve placed his gift bag.

When you meet his gaze again after a brief moment, he’s already looking at you expectantly.

“What?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Why are you not at work?”

You absolutely can’t with his fucking bluntness.

“I’m sick,” you lie, surprising yourself with how smoothly it tumbles out of your mouth.

You’ve had plenty of practice after all.

But apparently, not enough to fool Bakugou.

“Bullshit.”

Instantly, you feel a wave of indignation wash over you, together with a sense of deja vu—as if this conversation has happened before.

“I don’t think you’re my fucking thermometer, Bakugou,” you snap, unable to rein in your anger.

“Really, now?” he retorts, not missing a beat. “How ‘bout we use the thermometer I brought you and see what that has to say, hah?”

Before he can even move towards you to grab the tool from where it’s sitting behind you, you blindly reach for the bag behind you and bring it to your front, clutching it close to your chest.

“No.”

At your move, a devilish sneer invades his features. “So you’re admitting it, then?”

You purse your lips in a tight line, already teeming with irritation. “I don’t owe you an explanation. My request’s already been approved by HR.”

“But why?” he presses, eyebrows seemingly permanently furrowed. “You never take time off unless it’s a major emergency or some shit.”

“And you don’t just take off and abandon your patrol duties, yet here you are,” you quip, not knowing how else to respond to his accusation because it’s true.

“I didn’t abandon patrol,” he spits back, “I had Eijirou cover for me.”

That’s it.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m a goddamn mess, right now, okay?” you finally cry, throwing your hands up as if gesturing a surrender. “Can’t a person have just one day of not having to fucking lie to everyone?”

To your surprise, Bakugou doesn’t bite back and bark a harsh reply. Instead, he only stares at you expectantly, wordlessly coaxing you to explain.

And you don’t know what it is about it, but his borderline concerned gaze is the catalyst that causes the proverbial dam to break open and for everything to come flooding out.

Your voice is so pathetically small when the words finally come out.

“…Bakugou, why are we even doing this?”

Again, he doesn’t say anything, and you take his silence as an opportunity to keep going.

“You know, at first, I thought I—no, we—had a rationale,” you start, looking at everything else in the room but him. “I wanted to get back at my ex, and you, for some reason, wanted to be a hero and get back at him…too? Okay, shit, it’s already getting confusing.”

At that, Bakugou scoffs. “Quit making me sound like an aimless dumbass, idiot. I just hate ugly ass douchebags.” He crosses his buff arms in front of his chest, “It’s a personal goal of mine to make them pay.”

You eye him suspiciously, not exactly sold on his answer, but you press on.

“Okay… And so we—I did—exactly that by punching him at his wedding. Which brought us unnecessary attention from the press, eventually pushing and forcing us to act like we’re dating around everyone.

“And we’ve done exactly that!” you bemoan, “Around your closest friends, even around your sweet, innocent parents, for crying out loud!”

You finally will yourself to look at Bakugou, and he looks like he’s about to say something but you cut him off before he can.

If you don’t get this out now, you doubt you’ll ever get another chance to do so.

“It’s just—I—I don’t think I can do this anymore, Bakugou,” you finally say, shoulders sagging in relief at finally having said aloud what’s been haunting your mind.

You look at him squarely, injecting as much conviction as you can into your tone for what you’re about to say next.

Because, you now realize, it’s the one thing that’s been plaguing you the most.

“I don’t want to cause you to fuck up your life any more than I already have.”

You study his face, bracing yourself for a spectrum of reactions you can potentially elicit from the man. You watch as his jaw visibly clenches, and it bewilders you how he can look so pained when, no matter how much you rack your brain for a reason, there’s nothing in it for him in this silly, not-so-little arrangement of yours.

Except, maybe a bit of self-satisfaction and amusement over having helped a damsel in distress.

A few minutes of silence pass with neither of you saying anything.

“…Bakugou?” you finally ask, voice small.

Suddenly the previous expression that was just on his face morphs into a full-on scowl, so much so that the man looks like he’s about to combust any second now.

And erupt he does.

“You have some fucking nerve, you know that?”

Again, and despite yourself, a pulse of fury courses through your body, but before you can even spew your own venom in your defense, Bakugou beats you to it.

“Who gave you the fucking right?”

You’re fuming. “Who gave me the fucking right to what?”

“To fucking walk into my life, just like that!” he snaps, shutting you up.

He shakes his head, disbelieving and seemingly resigned. “Like you had any business strutting in looking so fucking pretty, and then you had to put a nail on the coffin by being the best at your job like it’s no big fucking deal? You put all the agency’s useless executives to shame with how hard you work and how good you are at it.

“And you go ahead and punch the guy who’s been a complete dickhead to you and then worry about how you ruined his wedding. And you say all this nice shit to me and my friends and my family like it’s fucking nothing.”

His hand shoots up to pinch the bridge of his nose, like he’s feeling a headache creeping in, before he drops it in favor of turning to fully glare at you.

“But now you have the gall to call it quits when I’m just starting to get used to this? It’s—you—you’re something else.

“You’re a fucking pain in my ass, you know that?”

Robbed of all words and eyes wide as saucers, the only thing you can choke out is: “W-what are you trying to say?”

At that, Bakugou scoffs. “You really are a fucking dumbass, aren’t you?”

But you don’t even get to retort a defense, or even get the slightest bit offended at his remark, because in the blink of an eye, Bakugou is on the move—purposefully stalking towards you.

And just like that, he pulls you into a searing kiss.

You think you might have squeaked in shock at the contact, but that thought is suddenly overwritten in your mind the moment you feel his big hand rest on the space between your neck and shoulder, while the other remains firm holding your chin in place.

Your eyes flutter close at the intensely warm feeling, and before you get to talk yourself out of it, you kiss him back, and Bakugou’s grip on you tightens when you do so.

And as you revel in the softness of his lips and the fervent way he’s kissing you like he’s been waiting to do this for as long as he could fathom, everything finally dawns on you.

Your feelings—your true feelings—and the fact that you’ve been in denial all along; an idiot who chose what to see and hear and believe to protect herself from hoping and potentially getting disappointed in the end.

But this?

This.

This is the farthest thing from disappointment.

Finally, and maybe a little too soon to your liking, Bakugou slowly pulls a few inches away, and the boyish grin that’s now decorating his beautiful features causes your heart to throb so painfully that it almost hurts—in a good way.

With his two hands that are now resting on your shoulders, he squeezes the flesh, bringing you somewhat back to reality.

“That answer your question, princess?”

Despite yourself, you flush, but now you find that you don’t mind Bakugou noticing, what with the wave of warmth that floods you at the view of him grinning even wider at the sight of you.

Not trusting your voice not to crack just yet, you can only nod as you smile and feel tears slowly pooling your eyes. And not wanting for him to see them, at least for now lest he worries, you quickly blink them away before leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

And he leans his against yours.

A few moments pass before he speaks up again.

“…Fucking finally.”

“Fucking finally…you have a girlfriend?” you jokingly reference his best friend, although despite the playfulness of the quip your heart is hammering at the suggestion and silently begging, begging for an affirmation.

But what he ends up giving you is lightyears further than that.

Bakugou shakes his head, tipping your chin up so that you’re looking straight into his eyes.

He grins.

“Fucking finally I have you.”

a/n. not to be emotional out here, but this series was such a joy to work on. i haven't written in a year and a half since this series, what with my depression having gotten really bad. i'm nowhere near better, but the process of working on this series and interacting with you all really gave me a sense of fulfillment that i haven't felt in the longest time. with that, i want to thank you all for the support and love <3 this wouldn't have been as enjoyable without you all!

and so drum roll, please; the title of the series is: the wonderful mess that we made (from the song flaws by bastille). a separate masterlist for this will be posted soon, so pls keep an eye out for that :,)

lastly, i'd love to hear from you about how you found the series! my replies, tags, and asks are always open <3

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @lovra974 @chelbyisbord @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon @the2ndl @keiscwsz @onlyisaa @aizawa19 @471323 @bakugosgothhoe @bleublooded @msjaeger @ellielover69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they make the biggest difference! have an awesome day ( ˘ ³˘)

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart: Chapter 1 (Alastor x Reader)

Rated Adult for adult themes, triggering content and sexual content. I wouldn't say this is dead dove but it's dead dove adjacent. Series Trigger Warnings: Adultery, stalking, Sexual assault, Rape, smut of undetermined sorts, Domestic Violence, Time period accurate views on women and domestic violence and skin color, Alastor is a serial Killer, there's murder, there's angst, there's dark content.

Summary: Fading away in an abusive marriage, each day passes just the same as the last. Painful monotony eats at you until a pair of warm brown eyes sparks the idea that you could have something more. When a business deal between men sparks a torrid affair, how long can you keep things going before the fire either leaves you a burnt out shell or burns up everything around you?

And what becomes of the radio host who thought he was above the fickle fires of the heart when the match he strikes burns his hand instead? Can he possess what rightfully belongs to another man without leaving everything he has fought for in ashes?

Please be mindful. This story is dark and triggering at times. I've written portions to elicit an emotional reaction. As you should always do with dark content, even if you're not at risk of being triggered, please step back and take a breather when needed. The story will always be here when you get back. I am so tickled by the excitement this story has generated ahead of its release. We're looking at tentatively between 20 and 30 chapters (A note from future Kit: Ha! That was a cute prediction... I'm drafting chapter 37 rn and looking at 50...(Another note for future-er Kit...we're writing chapter 51 rn... we're not passing 60) posted once a week on Fridays.

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Audio by Nyx Productions, Part 1, part 2

To the world, you appeared nothing more than a simple woman with a placid smile, gliding through town. The rhythmic click of your sensible black heels echoed against the sidewalk. To a trained eye, your gait could be categorized as slightly staggered, stiff, and just a little uneven, but to an untrained eye? There was nothing to see, but a modestly dressed woman, impeccably put together though just slightly out of fashion, performing the role of the ideal well-to-do wife with the precision of a clockwork automation. 

You could have taken a bus, but you would rather walk, or at least that was your story, but it wasn’t totally true. You tried to focus on the positive, a lesson your parents had instilled in you from an early age. If you couldn’t focus on the positive little bits of your life, what else was there?

It was nice to get out of the prison of your home. That is what you’d tell anyone that asked, though you wouldn’t call it a prison to anyone but yourself. They would smile and nod, like was polite and they’d make small talk about how mundane the life of a homemaker was and assure her that as soon as little ones landed her days would be filled with excitement and joy. 

What wouldn’t be said was how you wished she could brave the bus because your simple heels hurt your feet or how the idea of falling pregnant terrified you. You couldn’t, wouldn’t really, brave the bus because it would jostle you and you’d surely bump into someone or something. This time of day, the bus would be crowded and people would bump into you.

Today you couldn’t have that. 

Today you needed to protect yourself.

Stepping into the tailor shop you thanked the man on his way out, holding the door open for you on his way. With a sigh, you let the relief of an errand half done wash over you as you stepped up to the counter. Behind you, the bell above to door jingled, announcing another new arrival to the small shop.

Glancing over your shoulder, you hardly registered the tall man with tan skin and fluffy brown hair as he held the door open for his short blonde companion. An odd pair, you thought before turning back to the counter, showing the woman where the sleeve on your dress was torn, seam along the shoulder ripped and explaining your fabricated story of how it happened. 

She smiled at you with pity. This was injury to clothing she knew well though she would never be so bold as to talk about it. You were not the only woman in town to frequent the tailors with ripped shoulder seams or dark rust colored stains. These were the secrets she kept, a professional curtesy that was expected from her but always unsaid. Did the people of the city even realize the things she knew?

“It’ll be ready in a few days, Mrs. Latimer.” The shopkeeper was quick to take the dress from you, doing the work of holding it up and examining the rip. 

It was a small mercy, to not have to raise your arm much at all. The woman folded the dress neatly away and slipping it below the counter before motioning you aside while she wrote out your ticket. She was a master at multitasking, finishing your ticket as she greeted the newcomers who seemed less eager to step up to the counter than the shopkeeper was to serve them.

“What about that one?” the blonde woman whispered to her companion as you thanked the shop keeper as she handed you your ticket. The newcomers lingered, taking their time making their way to the counter. 

“Mimzy, we are here to pick up your dress,” the man’s rich voice sounded familiar but you couldn’t place it. Glancing at him, you tried to place where you could know him from but came up blank. That was just as well, Laurence didn’t let you really socialize much outside of your day to day tasks.

The blonde, Mimzy you had gathered her name was, wiggled her fingers to you in a wave as she caught you looking their way before directing her attention back to the man she was with. 

“Yes, yes. And you need the lining of your coat restitched,” She made a show of rolling her eyes, performing for an audience of only a handful, “You’re no fun sometimes.” 

“A dreadfully dull time, that’s me,” the man laughed lightly.

“I’m just saying,” Mimzy continued as you stepped toward the door, “You’re a good man. A decent man. You should find someone, is all. You don’t gotta settle down but you don’t gotta be alone all the time either.” 

You cringed, struggling to push open the heavy door, trying to not listen in on the pair’s clearly private conversation. You had been too eager when you pushed on it and your shoulder didn’t hold up to the stress well, pain flaring. It was easy enough to forget how painful your shoulder was in the moment. 

It wasn’t so bad, as long as you didn’t overdo it. Pushing open the heavy door yourself was clearly enough to count as overdoing it today. 

“Here, allow me.” The man pushed open the door for you, holding it open with a palm high along the edge of the door, giving you plenty of space to exit. 

You ducked under his arm with a mumbled word of thanks. It didn’t matter, he didn’t seem to really be listening for it anyway as he directed his attention back to his companion as he let the door begin to fall closed as soon as you were out of striking range of it.

“And why should I-” the rest of his words were lost behind the closing door. 

Alastor sat in the empty lounge, sipping his rye as Mimzy talked on and on while she changed. The dress surely would fit her just how she wanted, it was custom fitted but that didn’t stop her from putting on this whole production every time they got back from the seamstress. 

He knew the song and dance well enough, having known the woman for the past few years. She would change. He would complement. She would complain. He would reassure. She would blush and call him a flirt. He would move on with his day. 

“Oh!” Mimzy interrupted herself, earning a raised eyebrow from Alastor. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what, my dear?” 

She popped her head out from between the curtains, “I think I found myself a new juice supplier. You’re off the hook.”

“You think?” Alastor downed the rest of his drink in one smoothe gulp.

“Ya- Laurence’ll be able to take over soon and you’ll be off the hook again. I know you ain’t eager for that amount of risk. Told you it was only temporary.” 

Alastor hummed in acknowledgement as Mimzy went on and on about Laurence. He was tall, not as tall as Alastor, she assured him, but still tall and handsome. He tuned out her ramblings, mind instead turning back to the woman Mimzy had pointed out at the tailor shop. Such a timid little thing, fashion just outdated enough to stand out. 

Mimzy smacked his shoulder with a bar towel, leaning across the counter to look him in his eyes as she demanded his attention, “Yes?”

“You’re distracted,” she stated simply. 

“Just thinking about tomorrow’s broadcast.” Alastor answered simply, running his finger over the rim of the empty glass. “That’s all.” 

“Mhm,” she narrowed her eyes at him as he leaned back from her. “You sure you ain’t thinking about a pretty face?” 

“Haven’t seen any prettier faces than yours today.” 

Mimzy laughed loudly and teased, “Flirt! But I know it ain’t my face that’s got you distracted. Was it the doll at the shop? She was cute!” 

“She’s got a man,” Alastor countered. 

“And how the hell would you know from not speaking to her at all?” 

Alastor shrugged, “Just got a feeling about her.” 

He could tell Mimzy that she had that hollow look in her eyes that a woman got when she had a partner that got a bit too rough with her. Hell, he could point out the way she couldn’t manage to open the door to the shop, her shoulder weak from strained muscles. Did the man that called her his toss her around by the arm last night? Yank her a little too roughly?

He wouldn’t though because it didn’t matter. It wasn’t worth having Mimzy ask questions about his past or worse, assume the reason he had no partner of his own was due to any reason beyond him not desiring to be weighed down. 

“I bet a charming lad like yourself could sweep her out from under whatever man she’s caught up with anyway. Want another?” Mimzy pointed at the empty glass as melting ice settled in the bottom. 

“I’m good, Darling- It’s early yet.” 

Your feet were killing you as you made your way home. Still, you couldn’t help but take your time. If you were out, you were not home cleaning, cooking or waiting for your husband to return. While you were out, you could pretend to be your own person and it was alright, you had to keep up appearances as long as it was the right appearance. 

Lingering in front of the newsstand, you let your eyes run over the papers and magazines each with bold words on the covers, fighting for the eye’s attention. 

The headlines were polar opposites in many cases. Some celebrated the progress and change made in the 24 months since women had been granted the right to the vote. Others bemoaned the change and the influence women could now have on the world around them, pointing at any little thing as a sign of the doom this would spell for society as a whole. 

The idea made you laugh. Two years and while you did your best to learn, you hadn’t even come close to a polling center. Your husband wouldn’t allow it. Whatever change there may have been for better or for worse, you had no part of it. 

You knew which of the papers your loving husband would pick up and celebrate. It wasn’t the same ones you would but that didn’t matter. Women may have had the right to vote but you knew you were little more than an accessory in the world you lived in. 

Moving on with your walk home, you tried to force yourself to relax your shoulders and back. The pain was starting in from tensed muscles, telling you that while you hadn’t been watching your posture well enough, you had curled in on yourself. 

A deep breath in through your nose and out through your parted lips, slowly as you pulled your head up and your shoulders back, trying to ignore the way the muscles screamed in protest. You forced your spine straight and winced at the pain in your shoulder as you worked your fingers into the tense muscle, trying to convince it to relax. 

It would pain you for a few more days yet and if you were lucky, that would be it. You just needed to be good until it had a chance to heal. 

“Good Day, Mrs. Latimer.” A man you should have known tipped his hat at you in greeting, startling you out of the thoughts you hadn’t realized absorbed you as you walked slowly down the sidewalk. 

He was closer than you had expected when he snatched your attention, causing you to gasp and flinch back, shoulder twinging in pain. You didn’t like people in your space, at least not without warning. All it would take was someone saying you were getting too close to a man to your husband and hell would rain down on you regardless of the truth of it. 

Your shoulder banged into the light post behind you. You didn’t know it was there, having lost track of your surrounding as you walked in the haze of thoughts. A gasped yelp slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

Appearances. You had to keep up appearances. Swallow the pain, don’t let anyone know. Don’t let anyone see. 

“You alright?” The man asked as he steadied you, large hand gripping the outside of your shoulder only making the pain flair more. 

Shrugging out from under his grip, you painted on a false smile as you willed the tears in your eyes back. 

“I’m fine,” You looked away as you saw pity cross the man’s face. How much did he see? Surely not more than what was normal, what was acceptable?

“You be careful ma’am,” the man nodded wisely to you. “Didn’t you hear? There’s a serial killer running around. Probably not good for a lady to be out alone till they catch the bastard- pardon my language.” 

“Oh my,” you tried to play the unsteadiness on your feet as being from the terrifying news. Would be believe it? Did be believe it? “I’ll be sure to be mindful, thank you.” 

You didn’t need his pity but what you needed even less of was him seeing any real reason to pity you. Forcing your hand from your shoulder, you tried to ignore the pain, to will it away. 

There was nothing to see here. Just Mrs. Latimer making her way home from the tailor shop. There were no bruises. No torn dresses. Nothing wrong. 

Life was perfectly normal, a storybook where you were married into a family of means with your family having so very little to offer. 

Tag List: @xalygatorx, @catticora, @alastor-simp, @alastorthirsty, @nyx91, @lilith-jae, @goyablogsstuff, @kaylopolis, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @charlottemorningstarsdarling, @diffidentphantom, @rainydaysmut, @honestlyshamelesskid, @yui-onnero, @lunarmango

Want to trust your fates to the tagging system and be added to the tag list? Let me know. We here at Kit's Nonsense Inc make no promises on Tumblr's ability to actually make your tag function.

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[blorbocedes]

let me take you guys on a journey. one that will help you understand how annoyingly obsessive and hung up my brain can get......

so here is where our wild goose chase starts. I was going through a 2012 f1 blog's nico tag. it's actually pretty rare for early 2010s blogs to have comprehensive tagging systems so whenever I find one I try to go thru it all. and I come across this v cute nico image (cropped for posterity. payoff will be worth it promise)

here we have a picture, from 2012, and in classic 2012 fashion there is meme text on it. OP of the original pic deactivated. so I want to find the version without the meme text. pretty easy, just reverse google search right?

WRONG!

google reverse search is functionally dead and defunct and absolutely dogshit.

ok back to square one. I'm trying to sus out from whatever information I have.

the other meme watermark of f1humour.tumblr.com? deactivated.

okay 37 notes. maybe I can do something with this.

tumblr kind of breaks (?) with very old posts. so even if someone tagged it, I can't see it. ok but 14 people liked it!

of the 14 accounts only 7 actually show, including mine. so what I do is I go through 6 of those blogs, and their public archives because those accounts are all inactive for several YEARS now. and I check their blogs for April 2012.

no luck.

back to the drawing board.

the meme has a MOTORSPORT.COM watermark.

here's all the information I have: this was posted on April 24th, 2012, which means that's my upper limit on the date this could be taken. Nico got in Mercedes in 2010. So from anywhere between 2010-2012 motorsport images couldve taken this pic.

so, because I was born with excessive intelligence, I think hmmm... let me search the archives of Motorsport Images dot com. surely that is where Motorsport dot com would keep their Images.

two years of a racing driver's pictures means thousands of pictures. okay. let's start from April 2012. unfortch for keen eyed listening, April 2012 was also the Chinese Grand Prix aka Nico's first f1 win.

why is that relevant? because it means every photographer and their MOTHER took a picture of nico for his first win. over 900+ images.

while I am exhibiting extremely unemployed levels of behavior here, I don't actually have the time and brain capacity to sift through 900 images.

I go back to the original tumblr post. this time I go to the empty reblogs. there's lots!

but because there's no tags it can't help me. still I go through every one of them because you can see the blog I found the pic from @the-fastest-waffle is listed in the other reblogs even though they clearly had tags!

and I find my silver lining. from @fuckyeahf1drivers's tags

just this simple. #bahrain #lol

if this picture is from bahrain 2012 it changes everything, as in it narrows my search a shit tonne.

375 images. This means 1-15 pages and I know the exact picture I'm looking for. I feel like I'm SO close. I can't give up now. gambler mentality 💎

so I guess what. I go through all 15 goddamn pages. and I DONT FIND IT!!!!!!!!! SCREEEEEECH

now I've lost hope. if it's not from bahrain 2012 then it can be from anywhere from 2010-2012 taken by motorsport.com which is just too big a search. there isn't anything I can narrow it down with. my search is futile.

but I have one tiny little thought bugging my mind. how come motorsport images don't have the motorsport.com watermark... so I consult a fellow archivist @vegasgrandprix on the matter.

WE AS A SOCIETY NEED TO ADDRESS WHY MOTORSPORT.COM AND MOTORSPORT IMAGES.COM HAVE THE SAME FONT

finally. finally

I go on motorsport.com

which is actually kind of not super user friendly interface finding their pics if you have excessive intelligence like I do. I go into this knowing if the bahrain 2012 long shot is actually NOT when that picture is from, I'm fucked.

I filter and say a prayer.

and lo and behold.

salvation.

one person's singular tag of 'bahrain 2012 lol' led me down this spiral, where if it wasn't for that bit of information this would be lost forever because finding the version of the pic without the meme text is otherwise near impossible. google reverse search is no help, and f1 drivers simply get photographed way too much. reblogs + tags with context literally are a holy grail. this is what I imagine archaeologists feel like. so if you ever want someone 12 years after you've posted something to go down finding out, tag your posts accordingly (assuming tumblr survives the next decade)

so why did I do it? why did I spend hours of my life on this? cause it's fun. it's like a mystery and it itches at my skin. many times I'm not successful which is why the times I am feels so rewarding because it feels almost like detective work, finding and refinding something, overturning evidence. and I have a brain that just functions Like This.

and now for the fruit of my labour, if you guys still want to see. the picture I spent hours to find the original version of. sitting proudly at the time of posting at 9 notes 😌😌 here's what goes behind actually finding and archiving 2010s retired f1 drivers online. click below!

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