#IT TOOK AWAY ALL AGENCY I HAD IN MY LIFE BECAUSE MY PLACE WAS CLEANING N COOKING NOT SCHOOL NOT JOB NOT FRIENDS NOT GETTING SMART NOT

[im2tired4usernames]

I hope what ever asshole cultist invited the stay at home daughter movement a very your dick gets rips into bits and eaten by pigs

[starlightshadowsworld]

To be burned in light

(While Kouyou's in the Agency's clutches, she and Atsushi have an unexpected talk. Atsushi reveals he understands her situation better than Kouyou realises.

Tw for talking about child abuse.)

Atsushi hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He should leave, he was done here. Kouyou was doing well, she was updated on the plan with Dazai.

The peace between them was delicate. The whole time Atsushi felt like he was standing on ice. One wrong move and it would crack, sending him falling into the icy depths.

What Atsushi wanted to say would no doubt get him stabbed. He would deserve it too, because he would absolutely be crossing a line.

And yet, at the same time Atsushi felt it needed to be.

"Ozaki" 

The Port Mafia Executive sighed, exasperated "what now boy?" She was certain he'd have ran the moment they were finished. The whole time he'd been civil but out of duty.

Much like herself. 

Oh sure Kouyou wanted to attack him. But now wasn't the time for that, not when Kyouka's safety was on the line.

The Agency wouldn't take kindly too the weretiger showing up bleeding out. Besides, Dazai was the brains behind this operation and he'd taken the brat under his wing.

He'd always been protective over who he deemed as his people. Not that Kouyou could say much, she was the same.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Said Atsushi. Kouyou smiled but it wasn't kind. "Whatever for? Taking my dear Kyouka from me?"

Atsushi held back a wince at at. It wasn't the words themselves, but the tone. Chilling, barely restrained rage that reminded Atsushi all to well of the Headmaster.

Atsushi had his back to her but that didn't mean he couldn't feel her sharp gaze on him. He took a deep breath and braced himself.

"I'm sorry that the light burned you."

The smile on Kouyou's face fell. Whatever she was expecting him to say, it wasn't that. Her mind went blank, she couldn't formulate a response. And even if she could, what do you say to that?

Atsushi took her silence and that he wasn't being stabbed, as a sign go continue.

"I don't know you, I won't pretend that I do. Or that we're anything but maybe allies but..." Atsushi takes a deep breath in "the light won't burn Kyouka."

Anger.

Anger like Kouyou had never felt in her life filled her veins. Her composure shattered.

"You know nothing! How dare you, you drag my Kyouka into this destructive light. And than you have the audacity to say that you can gurrantee her safety."

Atsushi didn't so much as flinch at her words. He turned around to face her. The look in his eyes was not one of fright or fear like Kouyou expected, but sadness.

"Because the light burned me too." His voice was soft but there was a strength to it that hadn't been there before. Kouyou was taken aback, she was still angry but curious.

"I was born into darkness. I'll spare you the details but my parents were awful people. One thing led to another and eventually they threw me out" He chuckled, but there was no humour in it.

"Literally, in a rubbish bag. But someone found me, let me out and took me back to his Orphanage." Atsushi wasn't looking at her.

His gaze was fixed on the wall behind her. But it felt like was looking at a person.

"He was the Headmaster. He gave me clean clothes to wear, a place to sleep. And even took the leftovers they had and cooked me some Chakuze. It was the best meal I ever had."

He shakes his head, a sad smile on his face.

"So I ended up staying, not like I had anywhere to go. And I was in debt to him. I'd be dead without him, so I did whatever he ordered me too like a servant to a king."

Atsushi looks at Kouyou. "You stabbed me when we met." It's not accusatory, there's no anger in it he just states it like a fact. "I did" confirms Kouyou, not sure where he's going with this.

"I stopped bleeding before Kunikida and Kenji showed up. Akutugawa cut off my leg off, it came back in minutes." Said Atsushi.

Kouyou nodded, unable to move her gaze away. It's true she stabbed the boy, anyone else would be left wailing in agony before suffering a slow death.

Even without Kyouka's intrusion. Kouyou was one of the best assassins in the Port Mafia for a reason.

She hadn't known Akutugawa had done that. And here it was, like nothing had ever happened.

The weretiger had an incredible healing factor, so to have scars that were clearly years old seemed impossible.

And yet here they were.

She'd have thought he was lying if she didn't know Akutugawa. Or of she hadn't fought the weretiger prior.

"I was mopping the bathroom, knocked over a bucket of water." Explained Atsushi, letting his shirt roll back into place. "I wasn't referring to a literal burn" Said Kouyou, regaining her composure.

But Atsushi just chuckled.

"Yeah, I know. But I figured it'd get my point across."

His smile fell "the man who saved my life turned into my own personal nightmare. That might be the only scar I have to show for it, but I should have so much more."

Kouyou found herself believing him. People like that never striked once, especially if it began over something so trivial."You're afraid we'll do the same to Kyouka."

Kouyou nodded "it's a fair assumption. Besides, how do I know this isn't all a rouse conjured up by your mentor to win me pity."

Even she knew that wasn't the case, but it was hard to accept this. That this boy on some level understood her, that he was trying to reach an understanding with her.

"No one in the Agency knows about my past." Said Atsushi. Kouyou raised an eyebrow in disbelief but Atsushi just shrugged.

"It's true. They know it was rough. But they don't know the details. It took Dazai so long to believe I got kicked out in the first place."

The kid was practically transparent. He was like an open book. A liar he was not and despite herself Kouyou deemed what he was saying truthful.

"Than why tell your enemy? I could easily use this against you."

Atsushi shook his head, amused "can't be any worse than I use it against myself. And if you do... Well it was for Kyouka anyway so it was worth it."

That suprised her.

Kouyou had noticed, she'd have to be blind not to see that the weretiger had a fondness for Kyouka. Almost like that of an older brother, but how? "Why would you go so far for her? You barely know her."

Because as much as Kouyou wanted to deny it, the lad did care. He had been alight with protective fury, so much so he'd been about to attack her before Dazai stepped in.

All because he deemed her a threat to Kyouka. He hadn't cared that she'd attacked him, only that she could hurt Kyouka. That's where his priorities lied, it was clear as day.

She expected the usual response, that it was because he was of the Armed Detective Agency. That he was on the good and just side that saved lives. But that was not the response she got.

"It sounds dumb but... When I saw her on the train with that bomb strapped to her chest. All I could think, was that she looked scared." He hugged his arms around himself.

"I've always been helpless, too powerless to do anything. No one was ever there to help me, no one wanted too. When I looked at Kyouka, I saw myself." Said Atsushi, a frown on his face as he recalled that fight.

"I didn't want to fight her, I had no choice. We found out the bomb was rigged. Kyouka, she said she didn't want to kill anyone else and jumped out the train. I went after her, destroyed the bomb and we fell into the water."

Kouyou absorbed this, and made several mental notes to have a word with Akutugawa... Because to strap a bomb on her Kyouka and rig it to explode no matter what.... He was going to pay for it.

"I see, I can't say I quite understand your reasonings... But I am glad you were there." Kouyou admitted, Atsushi blinked in suprise but than smiled.

"Of course."

Atsushi's gaze flickered to the wall again before looking at her. "The women who treated your wounds was Doctor Yosano. She once worked under your Boss, back when he was underground doctor."

But she wasn't content to let this end there.

"But you may care for her, reluctant as I am to admit it. But who's to say your fellow Agency members won't shun her away. That they won't do as your Headmaster once did to you."

Kouyou blinked in suprise, she hadn't known that. Though it made sense she supposed. Looking back the doctor was kind but she was quite sadistic for one living in the light.

"We didn't even know Dazai was former Port Mafia up until recently, and frankly no one cares." Said Atsushi with a small fond smile. "... I can't tell if that's endearing or stupid" replied Kouyou.

Somehow his confidence was infectious, because she felt her worry dim.

Atsushi shrugs "and well, the President was a former assassin. And between you and me, his ability might just be adopting strays. He wouldn't turn her away." He said, and it honestly suprised Kouyo to hear the unwavering confidence in his voice as he spoke of his boss.

It was still there, but it was less than before. Kouyou knew Fukuzawa, not personally but she'd heard enough to back that claim from Mori himself.

"Will I be able to see her?"

Atsushi looked at her in suprise and Kouyou scoffed. "You haven't won me over yet brat." But it was clear she was wavering. Atsushi didn't comment on it though.

"That'll be up to her. But I won't stop you, neither will anyone else unless Kyouka declines or you become a threat to her."

That, Kouyou would agree with. It didn't escape her that the weretiger specified if she became became a threat to Kyouka. Both of them knew once she returned to the Port Mafia, this alliance was over.

... But maybe this alliance could last just a little longer.

"Very well, I agree to those terms." Said Kouyou. Atsushi nodded, turning to the door. "We can talk when I get another update, but I've taken up too much of you're time. I should go."

He got up to leave but Kouyou stopped him. "Before you go, what is your name?." Atsushi paused, suprised and turned back to her. "It's Atsushi. Atsushi Nakajima."

Kouyou nodded, committing the name to memory. "Thank you, Nakajima." She waved her hand dismissively and Atsushi bid her goodbye and left.

She'd lied, she had another question but hadn't been prepared to ask. Probably because Kouyou had already figured out the answer.

'Why did he apologise?'

It was because Atsushi had looked at her, and he'd seen himself. His Headmaster had never apologised, the man probably never would. So Atsushi had apologised to her, just incase it helped.

Kouyou chuckled to herself, what a strange boy.

She looked out the window, watching the bright cloudless sky. 'I will take you out there and show you the radiant world.' Was what he'd said.

Before the ex Boss found out. And the very light she'd become entranced by, was the very same light that burned her.

Dazai had told her the same fate would not befall Kyouka. But it wasn't until now that Kouyou believed him.It will be kinder to Kyouka than it ever was to her.

'And I hope it this radiant light will he kind to you, Nakajima.'

(To clarify on Atsushi's past, because there's a lot of headcannons about it.

The only part that's confirmed in canon is the burn scars, but not the cause though it seems linked to punishment involving chores. And that yes Atsushi's parents threw him away in a bin in a rubbish bag.)

[ghostofskywalker]

I also at 10:03 pm (for me) am thinking ab dottie underwood and maybe a lil angsty dialogue of “let me help you.” 😌

ILY HAPPY 3K AGAIN U DESERVE EVERYTHING IN THE WHOLE WORLD

thank you so much my beloved!! i have been sooo busy lately (moving my entire life back home after college is wild - idk how i have so much stuff!), but i promise i did not forget your requests :) i don't think is quite what you were expecting but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

this fic also includes a prompt from @nekoannie-chan's 1k writing challenge ("don't you think you're being a little paranoid?"), which i am so late on posting it's not even funny

words: 1,086

dottie underwood masterlist || join my 3k celebration!!

A Single Action

With every passing second, you felt your chances of escaping arrest slip away. Every step you took was as fast as you possibly could, and you knew the police were closing the gap between you almost obsessively. It was your fault for trying to break into a store they were staking out, and now you had to once again disappear. 

You didn’t know where to go that wouldn’t lead the authorities back to you, and so when you by the time you finally felt that no one was on your tail anymore, you were practically stranded in the middle of the city, with several hours to kill before you could even think about returning to your home. 

There was a gunshot wound in your shoulder, a souvenir from the officers when they first crashed the scene, and the adrenaline coursing through your body was starting to wear off, which meant the pain was starting to amplify. It wasn’t a particularly perilous wound, although there was a small amount of blood seeping from your arm, currently staining your shirt that might have suggested otherwise. You were just grateful that this was the only injury you received, and that once you were able to patch yourself up a little, things would be okay. 

A nearby dive bar was the only place you could think of going that wouldn’t ask any questions this late at night, so you tried not to think about the growing pain and slowly made your way into the darkened room, dodging a few people dancing on your way to the bathroom. Even though this place was pretty dark, it was probably a good idea to get as much blood off your skin and clothes as physically possible before the people around you started to ask too many questions about what you were doing and where you had been. 

The bathroom was brightly lit, and there was a woman applying lipstick in the mirror when you stepped in. You didn’t recognize her at first, but then fear started to bubble in your stomach as you recognized her jet-black hair and intense stare. 

You didn’t often cross paths with Dottie Underwood, but you had competed for jobs a few times, one of those times being pretty recent. She had just shown up one day and started to try and make her way among the bounty hunters in the streets of Los Angeles, and you knew almost nothing about her. All the gossip in the different circles of the underworld only mentioned that she had apparently been born in Russia and was currently evading capture from one of the intelligence agencies based on the west coast. Although you weren’t technically on opposite sides, you wouldn’t consider her a friend, that’s for sure. 

But unfortunately, you were bleeding too much to be any more picky about where you were going to clean yourself off, so you tried your best to not draw any attention and instead rolled your sleeve up as high as it would go, exposing the raw and bloody wound. 

Right as you turned the faucet on and put your hand under the stream of water, a pristine white handkerchief appeared in your field of vision. Shocked, you looked up to see Dottie standing right next to you. “Let me help you,” she said, and for a few moments you genuinely believed that you had lost your mind. 

Frozen, you continued to stare at her, and when you finally did speak, your voice came out in an embarrassing croak. “Why?” 

“Because I know who you are.” Immediately, your body tensed, so much so that she let out a quiet laugh upon observing it. “Calm down, I’m not going to say anything, don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid?” Her words may have seemed accusatory, but there was an ease to them you couldn’t quite explain, as if this was her attempt at a joke.

“No,” you said defensively. “I just don’t understand why you’re here.” 

“Even untraceable ghosts of the night need a crappy drink every now and then,” she said, a cryptic smile crossing her lips. There was something about her that drew you in like no one else you had ever met, and you finally understood what some people said about her charm and the connections that had with her success rate. If she asked you to rob a bank for her right this very moment, you would simply nod and ask where she wanted you to drop off the money. You didn’t often let your feelings dictate your life, but this was almost involuntary. 

“No, I mean why you’re helping me, especially if you know who I am.” 

“I don’t hold a grudge against you for taking that job a few weeks back, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said. “I understand that we all just have to do whatever we can to make it, even when we don’t want to.”

The tone she spoke in hinted at her past in a way you had never heard before, and if what you had heard about her origin was true, she probably was aware of the reality of this life even before you had decided to go out on your own and spill blood to pay the bills. 

It was completely silent in the room as she helped you clean your arm, and once most of the blood was wiped away, the wound itself didn’t look too bad. You were thankful for the cards you had been dealt, as the bullet seemed to have only grazed you. With a gauze wrap and a few days of rest, you would be right as rain. 

You dried off your skin as best you could with your shirt, and then you finally broke the silence.  “Thank you,” you said, voice as sincere as you had ever heard it. “I won’t forget this.” 

“I won’t either,” Dottie responded, and she reached down to take your hand for a fleeting moment, squeezing it slightly before she let go. Maybe you were reading too much into the implications, but you really hoped that it meant she was as taken with you as you were with her, even though this was but a tiny interaction in the course of one lifetime, a blip in memory. 

She was gone almost immediately after, the door swinging closed as she walked out, and you couldn’t help but wonder when you would see her again. 

Because you really wanted to see her again.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[sergeantsporks]

Okay, so, while I was looking for a quote for my art, I was looking for a very specific tale from a Grimm’s Fairy Tale treasury that I have. That story is called “Fitch’s Bird” (technically, in my treasury, it’s called “Fowler’s Fowl,” but I prefer “Fitch’s Bird). I couldn’t remember the title of the story, but I was pretty sure it was “Bluebeard,” because Bluebeard also, notably, featured a guy who killed his wives and had their hacked up bodies in his basement after they opened a room he told them to leave closed. Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm took a LOT of inspiration (read: copy pasted in German) from Charles Perrault (the writer of Bluebeard who, in turn, mostly recorded what was already told as stories and/or got it from Italian writers).

Here’s the thing: Aside from the aforementioned wife murdering and “curiosity killed the cat,” Bluebeard and Fitch’s Bird aren’t even CLOSE to being the same story. Bluebeard is just some guy who has a magic key that won’t get clean after being dropped in the blood of the women he’s murdered. He happens to have a blue beard. The heroine of the story married him for his money, opened the door she wasn’t supposed to, dropped the key in the blood, then yelled for help, and basically just pleaded with Bluebeard and begged for her life and prayed until her brothers could arrive to kill Bluebeard and save her.

Meanwhile, in Fitch’s Bird, the Blubeard figure is a sorcerer. He straight up kidnaps the girls by pretending to be a beggar and enchanting them when they give him some bread. He tells them not to go in that room, and if they can manage that, they’ll be his wife. The sorcerer gives them an egg, which is the thing that falls in the blood instead of the key. Also, notably, the sorcerer does the fun Grimm thing where he goes through two older daughters, killing both of them before finally getting the youngest, the heroine. She safely puts her egg away, so when she opens the forbidden door, it doesn’t betray her. She puts her sisters back together, then tricks the sorcerer into carrying both her sisters and a truckload of gold to her parents. She puts a dummy of herself in the window, rolls in honey and feathers (where the bird part comes from) and just walks out of there right past the sorcerer as he comes home, then summons the town to go burn the wizard alive in his own home.

Both stories have their better parts. In Bluebeard, the heroine and the villain are both a little more morally grey. Yes, Bluebeard is murdering his wives, but at least he’s not kidnapping them first, like the sorcerer in Fitch’s Bird. He’s just Some Guy who, the story posits, is disliked apparently solely on account of his blue beard? (I’m sure there’s a euphemism or race thing in there, but I don’t know enough to say that with any factual basis). While that obviously doesn’t excuse all the wife murdering, there’s a little more nuance to his character. The heroine, for her part, married a guy solely for his money (and it turns out she and all of her friends hate this guy for his blue beard) and got in over her head.

However, Fitch’s Bird, while the lines are more strict (the girls end up in this situation through no fault of their own aside from kindness, and the sorcerer is to blame for all the bad things), the heroine has a little more agency. Instead of waiting for someone to save her and putting a kind of weird amount of focus being on how much she pleads and prays to be spared, she saves her own sisters and tricks her way out of a bad situation. To be honest, I prefer Fitch’s Bird, because it’s about a girl who ended up in a bad situation despite doing everything “right,” and then uses her own common sense and cleverness to get herself OUT of the situation, rather than the heroine of Bluebeard who put herself into the situation in the first place because she was after money, and then just kind of cried until she was rescued. Reading about the sorcerer’s death in Fitch’s Bird feels more satisfying than Bluebeard’s death to me, because he feels well and truly beat by the protagonist.

Anyway, I think the differences are interesting, especially considering that Fairy Tales as commonly spread were based on written word rather than oral tradition (oral tradition didn’t usually go far: once your local folklore got put into a storybook, though, it travel outside of the boundaries of your area), and the Grimm Brothers got a lot of their fairy stories from upper class ladies (they collected folklore as well, but most of the easily recognizable fairy tales were already written down and just retold to them). Like, the two stories are VERY different, but the base concepts are SO similar, it can’t be a coincidence. I don’t have any actual evidence for this, but I like to believe a group of young women read Blubeard and said “this is how it would go if I were the heroine. I’d get out of it myself” and that’s how we ended up with Fitch’s Bird.

[dankusner]

The Zooms

Did you hear about the giant computer hack of 200 U.S. police departments? 

It’s called BlueLeaks

Few know that deeply personal information about police and others is now posted on the web.

Supporters of "Anonymous" -- the hacker/activists called hacktivists -- sometimes wear these masks in communications with the public. 

The group is said to be behind the massive June 2020 data breach of more than 200 police departments.  

One of the biggest data breaches in U.S. law enforcement history took place in June. 

Oh, what? 

Nobody told you. 

Not surprising. 

This is a humiliation of the highest order. 

Police aren’t releasing statements divulging it.

Most of the leaked data appears to have been stolen from so-called fusion centers, which meld local, state and federal intelligence officers into an intelligence-sharing consortium.

The spies got spied upon. 

And now some of what they know is out there for the world to see.

Even though I’m The Watchdog, I’m not gloating. 

This is dangerous on so many levels and should never have happened. 

(Note that I’m not divulging individuals’ information here.)

Aside from the shock of information stolen from more than 200 police departments, it’s stunning how few people, even in law enforcement, know about this.

The leak -- apparently done in sympathy with anti-police activists -- consists of 269 gigabytes worth of information. 

By my math, as an indicator, that’s the equivalent of about 182 million pages of texts. 

But these files contained videos, photos, spreadsheets and other file formats, too.

The doer apparently is the hacktivist collective Anonymous, partnering with a group called Distributed Denial of Secrets, nicknamed DDoSecrets. 

Twitter blocked their account, and Reddit removed its BlueLeaks forum. 

German authorities seized a server. 

But none of that stopped DDoSecrets. 

Try as authorities might to block it, the document dump is still out there.

An unsigned statement from the Texas Department of Public Safety stated it did not contract with the web company responsible for not patching vulnerabilities that led to the data leak. 

“We would refer you to the FBI as the lead agency of this investigation,” DPS stated in an email.

FBI spokesperson Lauren A. Hagee said, “The FBI does not confirm or deny the existence of investigations.”

A targeted police department

The first time I visited the BlueLeaks site, I received a warning to beware because it could be a malicious site. 

I contacted my ace computer consultant, Scott Green of Philadelphia, for help.

As a precaution, he took one of my old laptops which I had given him and accessed the site that way. 

He found the files to be clean and started searching for files that might be relevant to you. 

Among the many, he found a couple that indicate what we’re talking about here.

The first is a spreadsheet of everyone who called Memorial Villages Police Department near Houston to ask for police monitoring of their home while they go on vacation. 

The data showed name, phone number, address, email, vacation start and stop dates, pet information, names of people allowed to visit while the homeowner is away, cars kept in the driveway and in the garage – in other words, much of what a criminal could use to get inside your life.

The second sheet Scott found is all the information given to police when signing up for a mandatory home alarm system: names, email addresses, mobile numbers, which parts of the house have video coverage, alarm company contact, gate access code, pet description, emergency contacts with phone numbers and IP address for that household.

On that list alone are 7,200 households.

Memorial Villages police didn’t return The Watchdog’s call.

Then with additional help, I found more personal data involving police officers, which I’ll tell you about.

‘Servers compromised’

But first, how did this happen? Some

 police departments and agencies use a Houston web development company called Netsential to handle data through individual portals. 

The hack came through that company.

“Netsential can confirm its web servers were recently compromised,” a company statement informs. “We are working with the appropriate law enforcement authorities regarding the breach. …. In as much as this is an ongoing investigation, and due to the sensitivity of client information, Netsential will provide no further statement while the matter is pending.”

It’s very difficult to search the data. 

There’s so much, and it’s not indexed. 

One reporter I know who tried to download the data told me it was so massive her laptop crashed.

DDoSecrets says the data includes police and FBI reports, security bulletins, law enforcement guides and more. 

In stories on tech websites about BlueLeaks, little has been said about how non-police citizens’ privacy has been violated, too. 

That’s because you need a high level of skill to drill through the data. 

Who has that skill? 

Criminals.

Local police listed

I received help from a second computer expert – a Hurst man who works as a programmer for a security company. 

He said his bosses didn’t want his name used.

The programmer contacted The Dallas Morning News about the all-too-quiet data breach.

“There’s so much to pore through,” he said. “You can’t do it manually.”

I asked if he found any files from North Texas, and he pulled up one to show me. 

He said he wouldn’t send it to me because that could be a crime, but through screen sharing on Zoom, I could see it.

It was a listing of the full roster of law enforcement officers from area police departments. 

Which ones? 

University of Texas at Arlington, Hood County sheriff, Saginaw, Fort Worth, Texas Department of Public Safety, Fort Worth federal marshals, Arlington, Tarrant County constables and Irving.

The spread sheet includes full name, job title, work phone, mobile phone, supervisor’s name, title and phone number, and a hashed password (actual password but letters are jumbled). 

It’s possible that this information was in data stored in fusion centers to be used in the event of police emergencies. 

Netsential worked with some fusion centers, but not all of them.

In one file, relating to what the programmer described as a police alliance of some kind, he said he found instructions showing how to enter their website and what key information was needed.

He said he called the alliance and told them. 

“They had no idea,” he said.

“Who was this?” I asked.

“ARIC,” he replied.

That’s the Austin Regional Intelligence Center, shared by Austin area police departments.

Spies being spied upon.

Calling victims

Using data on a spreadsheet showing Harris County homeowners’ vacation information, I began calling people on the list to ask if anyone had notified them of the breach. 

These conversations were awkward.

After introducing myself as a journalist and explaining that I was researching a massive police data breach, I told them that their name and information was included,

One man said, “I’m sorry. I think I need not to respond.” 

He hung up.

I told another man his email address, vacation dates, the name of his yard man and pool man, and even his vehicles. 

It was a lot to take in.

“Son of a gun,” the man said. “How on earth is this public?”

I told him about the Houston company.

“Holy moly,” he said “I appreciate the call informing me of this. Let me check it out.”

Change passwords

If you’ve ever signed up for vacation monitoring or paid an annual alarm permit to your local police department, your information could be included.

But don’t bother calling your local police and asking them. 

They likely won’t know the answer. 

There’s so much information out there that it’s a massive job to sort and find.

The programmer says his fantasy is to alert everyone involved so they know. 

I told him that’s likely hundreds of thousands of people across the U.S.

He said he realizes the impracticality of that. 

As a substitute, he suggests we change our alarm codes and any passwords that are too similar to one another.

“I really want to make a difference and help people,” the programmer said. “Let them know.”

Well, you did, and thank you.

[psychomoxxie]

Blue Screen Brain Machine

Sometimes I wonder what mysterious power I'm actually running on, when I manage to get though an entire day after yet another night of no sleep (two weeks of insomnia should have been my first clue that something was amiss in the ol' brainmeats department) -- pure spite, would be my best guess. Over the past couple days, I managed to get everyone cleaning and throwing things out. It's been a tornado of activity, in which I found out that the Paterfamilias has by actual count FIVE vacuum cleaners. Can you imagine anyone having five vacuum cleaners? ONE vacuum cleaner, sure. So, Kriss was madly vacuuming away in her area (she's in the living room temporarily -- just call this place Joe's Waystation for the Wayward Wastrels), when it suddenly BURST INTO FLAMES. 

Naturally, it did. 

Of course, Joe tried to salvage it once we managed to put out the flames. Kriss was ready to wring his neck, trying to convince him to just toss the thing, because of course there's no saving it. I told her to just leave him be, and let him tinker with his vacuum from Hell -- it was unplugged, no danger of it spontaneously combusting again, and he'd eventually arrive at the same conclusion -- no point in getting annoyed with him, it's his vacuum cleaner, and the man spent his life building things and taking them apart, after all. He'd figure out it needed to be sacrificed to the Cleaning Gods, eventually. Which he did. Meanwhile, she and I finished up our areas, and got ready for the day. 

Yesterday, Clara brought herself, and her mad cleaning skills -- and my cats. I couldn’t wait. I missed them so much, and it's only been two days. It will really be home when they're here. I kept walking around, picturing them sleeping in this little corner here, perched on that bookshelf there...sunning themselves in the windowsills, enjoying the porch when it's warm out...

There's so much to do. I got a call from the Social Services agency that Martin the Art Therapist works for -- it seems he got me bumped to the head of the line, because the director called me straight away. She is going to have two case workers assigned to me, which is fantastic. Mental health and then SSRI assistance, I believe. It pays to be chummy with the right people in this business, on the other end of it, for all these years. If there's one good thing about having the Brain Cooties in this city, there are a ton of social services available, if you know where to look, are sober, and are willing to be responsible for your med compliancy. And if you know me, I've always been a big proponent of Better Living Through Chemistry. In the 90s, I studied for a degree in Abnormal Psych (which is what it was called at the time, relax) at Colombia and Loyola in Chicago, because I'd spent my pre-teen and teenage years caring for a schizophrenic great-aunt, and dealing with the whims of my diagnosed NPD mother, and figured I had an advantage over most students through the sheer insanity of my family dynamic. Eventually, after several years, I had to quit school to manage my son's care, who had a plethora of mental health and addiction issues -- then eventually took the job with Clara working directly with her mentally ill son. 

What I hadn't counted on was having to deal with my own wonky brain chemistry, and emotional dyregulation. Part of the unspoken deal of having to manage everyone else's serious mental illness is that you can sort of forget your own brain cooties exist. It's been a long time since I've been in a really bad place, mentally. 

Over the years, I've discovered the hard way that self-medicating the Brain Cooties is the road to misery -- both my own and everyone within striking distance -- and self-awareness paired with modern psychiatry is the road to freedom. At least, as close as people with mental illness can get to it. 

Speaking of, as an example; I'm titrating my mood stabilizer/migraine medication, topiramate, up to 200mgs -- right now I'm at 100mgs, so the appetite (and disordered eating behaviors, along with it, HUZZAH) is starting to decrease, which means of course the migraines as well as general irritability are beginning to recede. One always indicates the other with this medication. Topiramate is one Helluva drug -- but worth it in so many ways. I was never meant to be off of it for so long, but when I lost my health care coverage, it was the first to go, because the out of pocket cost is so far beyond my reach it may as well be mined on Pluto. But, it seems to fit into some missing piece of my brain chemistry like a jigsaw puzzle, in weird, seemingly unrelated ways that just make my mind feel calmer. Less prone to flashes of rage. 

The trouble is, it's never quite that simple when it comes to Brain Cooties. I was sending a couple voice DMs to people, because typing out shit is just too much trouble, while phone calls involving actual conversations are just too much of a commitment to the sort of immediate interaction I can't be bothered with, most of the time. Anyway, I played back a message to be sure I got all the information I wanted to convey, and imagine my absolute shock when I heard the playback, and my usually moderated, thoughtful, rather slow speech sounding as if it was being played back to me like a 33-speed record? I sounded like Alvin and the Chipmunks. 

This is what's known in the Brain Cootie world as "pressured speech", and it happens when someone is in a manic or hypomanic episode. I experience hypomania, from Schizoaffective Bipolar Type disorder. Hypomania is a milder type of mania, meaning it isn't as severe, and only lasts a few days, typically. Still, I've never heard myself before when in the throes of an episode, and the most disconcerting thing about it was that to me, I sounded absolutely normal in my own head. 

If that doesn't tell you how distorted one's thinking can be while in the grips of one's mental illness, even to a mild degree, then I don't know what will; and my doctors all tell me that I am a remarkably self-aware patient. While my brain might be conjuring quacking noises from the 147 Lake Shore Drive Bus (also known affectionately as the LSD, how appropriate), I also know that it is impossible for the bus to be quacking like a duck, and that it is indeed just my brain playing tricks on me again. Some people aren't so fortunate -- some people take their delusions at face value, which makes their lives a living nightmare that I cannot even imagine trying to manage without medication. 

But I digress. The worst part about the 33-speed record voice messages? Nobody said a thing. And I sent severalmessages to several people in which I was speaking so fast, I was barely intelligible — imagine one of those Telemundo! commercials, only in English. Instead, they just ignored my messages. When I realized what was going on, I covered my ass with a couple of people who mattered with either a version of the truth, or -- if I trusted them with it, the unvarnished version. So, don't rely on other people to clue you in. On that note, over all the years I've been dealing with Brain Cooties, only ONE PERSON has bothered to tell me when I have had obviously pressured speech. One. Which is just one of the many reasons why I generally find People as a whole to be useless. 

It's up to us to get our own shit sorted out. 

I feel like I should repeat that. If you have The Brain Cooties, it is up to you to be responsible for your OWN MENTAL HEALTH. That means seeking treatment, and being med compliant. Unless of course you are at the point where you need a caregiver, obviously. But we aren't talking about that. 

Because my doctors and I have been doing this for awhile, I have a stash of a particular, non-scheduled medication I keep on-hand for when I need to bring my brain down, fast. So, I took that, and will take it for the next week until I'm sure my Brain Cootie Swarm have receded back down to manageable levels. Risperdone is a very powerful, very serious drug that I just refuse to take every day, so my psych team allows me to only take it when the Cooties hit the fan. Were I sicker, or less educated in psychiatry/less self-aware, this of course wouldn't be an option. And if I were to slip and show myself to be irresponsible, I'd end up in the looney bin and having to take it every day, whether I like it or not. So, I don't abuse my privilege. When I need the meds, I need the meds. 

One of the few people I look up to in the world of Brain Cooties, Jared Poore (now sadly retired from social media, and I do hope he's OK), once said; 

"Things like mental illness, crippling neuropathy, epilepsy, and frequent, blinding migraines can’t be dealt with by gentle hugs, prayer and pretty angels, or the fad diet of the week with a basket full of overpriced supplements. Like a lot of aspects of life where you have to make a decision between two options, your only choice is to figure out which one is going to suck less”

The reality is, a lot of these psych meds have side effects that truly suck. They can be gross, embarrassing, inconvenient, even funny, or just fucking weird. But I can guarantee you that 99.999999% of the time, it's far better than the alternative that your untreated brain is offering, if you let it go long enough when you are suffering from schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, or schizoaffective disorder. Don't think so? Then you obviously haven't hit Brain Cootie rock bottom, yet. You've never gotten sick enough where you've been held on a 5150 in a locked ward, surrounded by people who talk back to the voices in their heads, and finger-paint with their own shit. You've never gotten so sick, you've been homeless. 

You've never become a danger to yourself or others. 

I have a really hard time taking seriously people with mental or emotional disorders who refuse to get treatment, and scoff at medication. Who give up after trying one or two combinations of medications because "it didn't wooooorkk!!" Most people don't give it enough time, first of all. It takes at least a month for the brain to adjust to a new medication, and only then can you even start to see if it's going to work for you, or if it needs an adjustment, etc. I've been doing this my entire adult life, and I've had just as many bad experiences as good -- I've still not found an SSRI that doesn't make me feel like shit after a few months. But there are new breakthroughs all the time. New drugs. New therapies. And mental health does not thrive on anti-depressants alone. 

Crazy bitches like me don't need to end up homeless, dead, or in prison. And neither do you. Because there's no real limit to where you might end up if you take care of yourself and get treatment. But the options if you let your mental illness go untreated? We already know where that leads. 

So take your damn meds. 

Oh, yeah -- and the next time you hear an otherwise normal-sounding woman suddenly speaking like a 33- record? FUCKING TELL THEM. 

Because there but for the grace of god, my little kumquats... 

If you enjoy my writing, please consider donating to my GoFundMe by following the link below -- I am taking the next year (which likely means two) as I wait for my disability to kick in to write a book on the unique culture, people, and places of Rogers Park, Chicago. I have my first two interview volunteers, as a matter of fact, which is so fantastic! Thank you so much for your support, to all who have donated thus far. I appreciate you so much. XO

[subtletruamadumping]

Now That I'm Allowed to Think for Myself

______________________________________________________________

I've spent a lot of time trying to unlearn the things that my parents forced down my throat growing up. Growing up Catholic did a lot to fuck up my thoughts and I wrote a bunch of things as a way to try and break away from that kind of thinking and process all the false information I had been given my entire childhood.

Date Written: January 29, 2022

TW: Religious Ideation

_____________________________________________________________

Now that I’m allowed to think for myself, 

Or, rather, no one is here to tell me otherwise,

I think I’ve finally learned that I was always wrong.

I was always so sure that the things I was learning at

Home was the whole truth, nothing but the truth.

So help me god I would convert all those

Non-believers to your good word of nothing

But love and acceptance. Except for, of course

Jews, homosexuals, whores that flaunt their body

And cause good men to sin with them.

They might claim they have changed, that

They have finally seen the face of god and want 

To repent for their sins so they can get to heaven.

They will never truly be clean and it is very

Easy to turn back to a life of sin.

Keep them at an arm's length.

Not that I’m allowed to think for myself

I think that’s pretty fucked up.

Not a novel idea, honestly, and I am deeply

Embarrassed that I took me so long to shake

The sanity into myself. How could people who

Claim to be so loving, so thoughtful of others

Be so terrible to their fellow man? It was

As if they weren’t viewing them as people.

Listening to a ‘man of god’ go on about he

Types of people he’d be alright with wiping out.

Atheists, transvestites, black people who refuse

To talk ‘correctly’ even after being forced into

Education by the white man.

By being so ungrateful they are rejecting the 

Good works of god. They were offered salvation

And rejected it. Now, they don’t deserve it.

Now that I’m allowed to think for myself

And I have untangled myself from what

I grew up listening to, I can finally start to

Grow as a person. The church had me firmly

Pinned down, believing there was really only

One type of person that would make it into heaven.

Loud, white, cis-straight men

Who talked over others because it is their

God-given right to do whatever they wanted.

Obedient, white, cis-straight girls

Who were never allowed to grow old enough to

Have agency over their own bodies or

Become less attractive to older men.

All it took was a step back to see clearly

The disgusting teachings leeching the

Humanity and love out of the followers.

Now that I’m allowed think for myself

I think, just maybe, that we shouldn’t

Be killing, shaming, and converting people

We don’t agree with. This shouldn’t be a

Novel concept, but my mom and I have

Gotten into screaming matches about

Weather or not gay people should be allowed

To get married. It’s been a law for a while.

She wants me spend my life miserable,

Alone, constantly asking god for

Forgiveness for something I can’t control

Just in care there’s a heaven after all this

Rather than just let me be happy.

She says I’ll be happy in heaven, but if

God hates me just for being here,

Why even try? I know where I would go.

Now that I’m allowed think for myself

And I am alone with my own thoughts

For most of the day, I disagree with so 

Much that was just the standard growing up.

I am finally free to choose what I watch,

Who I listen to, what I read. I’m expanding

My horizons, just like my mom always feared.

It’s almost as if she knows the answers are

Out there. As if she knows she’s being a

Hypocrite by claiming to love every human

While encouraging my brothers to avoid

Being friends with anyone who knows

Another language besides English.

I remember when I was in their place.

I tried to reject the idea and ask questions

Which got me punished for talking back.

Now that I’m allowed to think for myself

I can sit with the thoughts and feelings

That have been festering since I was in middle

School. Even forcing me to spend day in and

Day out in a private school meant to further

The brainwashing couldn’t keep me from noticing

How wrong everything sounded. I couldn’t do

The work then, but I can now. I can unlearn

All the things that were seared into my brian.

All the bigotry, all the hatred, all the superiority

That was thrown at me over and over in an

Attempt to force out any original thought.

They didn’t want me to know the truth.

I escaped because it never quite made sense.

All the terrible things that I was taught by

Catholicism. The Universal Religion.

[im4uworld]

Thankful. Part 3-The Ride of My Life

Learn how this one retiree created a bike giveaway program for underprivileged children in her community in her life of service.

I live in a small county (Hood River County, Oregon) that is primarily rural with many fruit orchards, pears, apples, cherry. Several packing plants support that agricultural base. Our year-round population is approximately 32% Latino, mostly immigrants who came to work in agriculture, in the orchards, and in the packing plants. Work is plentiful but hard, and the wages are low. The goal is to eventually move off the farm and get an apartment or modest home closer to daily necessities – groceries, doctors, other stores, and services. Often, the first-generation immigrants remained Spanish speakers and relied on their kids to help navigate the system. 

Like many immigrant groups that came to America, the first generation worked hard and spoke their native language mostly. Adults sacrificed to give their children a chance for a better future. The family was the nucleus of life. The second generation spoke more fluent English, became better educated and affluent than their parents, moved off and away from the farming communities, and became successful. It is the quintessential American Dream, and the promise of it was alive where I live.

Then something happened that disrupted this cycle. The economy started shifting to a tourism and recreation-based one. The demand for low-wage service workers boomed. There was more employment diversity, such as restaurant workers (usually in the kitchen) and hotel help (usually cleaning), among other tourism, recreation, and related service businesses. Agriculture is still a solid foundation for the economy, but it is part of a more diversified one today.

Hood River was a natural to become a strong tourist destination. Four-season recreation, the stunning natural setting, and the historic charm of its namesake town all contributed to the allure. No one, however, predicted the massive amount of money that would follow the people who came to visit. Small businesses serving local needs gave way to highly specialized ones catered to tourists, expensive bicycle shops and windsurfing stores, tony restaurants, wine bars, chic boutiques, wedding destination venues, expensive hotels, and the like.

Inevitably, many tourists came to stay and bought second homes bidding up housing prices beyond what local people could afford. Market analysts estimated a few years ago that it took more than six (6) times the average local income to buy a house. That factor made Hood River one of the most unaffordable places to live in Oregon. Many of these second homes were unoccupied most of the year, mainly on weekends and in the summer and winter. Locals termed it 'dark streets,' an accurate description of dark neighborhoods because few people were home. 

It was hard on many of us here, including the Latino population. Today there is no such thing as an entry-level-priced house or apartment. Much of a working-class Latino family's income must be dedicated to housing, with little left for the children and amenities. Many multi-generational families live together in two and three-bedroom homes, with family members often sleeping on a couch. Affordable housing is now a critical issue in our town, and many service agencies are trying to solve some of the problems.

I got involved with a non-profit organization with a bike to give away. My good friend Silvan and I wanted to help the non-profit organization give more than just one bike away. We began a fundraising drive. We wanted to help children whose families could not afford to buy them a bike. Many children we encountered never had a bicycle, and five had to share one cycle in one situation.

We sponsored a coloring contest and sent the entry forms to those schools and services where we knew the underprivileged children would have an opportunity to see the forms and fill one out. We received many entries, and most of the entry forms came from children who were of Latino heritage and lived in rural areas. We had to be entirely fair, so we picked entries randomly. To our surprise, most of the selected children had never owned a bike before, and most came from Latino families. 

We contacted the families and went to the children's schools, a familiar place. Typically, both parents usually came along too. Only one of our group went to the school to present the bike. We wanted to avoid overwhelming the children and to have a one-on-one conversation with the parents. We did not seek praise for the efforts, only quiet recognition, which we would use to validate this worthwhile program as we continued our fundraising efforts.

The year after the bike giveaway, a middle school in an agricultural part of the county reached out to us. They had a bike club where kids, mainly boys, learned to work on, take care of, and ride their bikes on the forest trails of the county. Not every boy had a bike, so we raised funds to purchase bikes. We bought nine bikes in 2020, which was nothing short of a miracle because there had been a bike shortage during the pandemic. 

The pride of ownership shone through the children's faces. They took extra pains to keep their bikes clean and learned how to ride and fix them. The bicycles gave the children more freedom and provided secondary benefits to the family (think sending your child out to run an errand). It was a win-win-win for the children, the family, and us.

The program continues to this day, and we now include bicycle giveaways to homeless people. Donations have come from diverse sources, and the community's generosity has always been forthcoming, even amid the pandemic. I would never have guessed that a single bike contest could turn into what it has today, something I call the ride of my life.

Contact im4uworld to learn how to set up a bicycle donation program in your community.

[endeaavorr]

[18.23]

the third vibrate from your phone successfully prodded your eyes to wake. your left arm numb from the way you accidentally slept on it hurriedly reaches out to put your phone on silent, not wanting to wake him up. ah yes, him. you look at the dimmed screen of your phone, 5.00 am 8th of August.

your heart warms at the sight. you lean back to the mattress facing up, trying to stretch your body properly before starting up the day. you turn your head to the left and see his sleeping figure. the slow rise of his chest, the slight part of his lips, and the nasty scar, as shoto calls it, settling happily across the side of his face.

you don’t usually get to see this side of him, either because he doesn’t come home that night from work, or you’re too tired to pay attention, or the two of you passed out right after doing it. so you hit the snooze button once more and studies his face, your right hand now softly leaning on his broad chest, neat fingers tracing the outlines of his never aging face.

but the morning haze soon is replaced by your default mode. pulling enji’s cover to his chin to keep him warm, you get up to start preparing breakfast, you wanted to make it extra special for today.

for the last month the two of you has been, how do you say it, distant. you were taking extra shifts at your agency to afford this watch you wanted to give him on his birthday. even so, since you can’t tell him why he’s starting to come home to a cold empty house, it’s been quiet and rather uncomfortably awkward. you kinda feel bad in a way, so you’re determined to make today work.

you were so drowned in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize enji already woke up and finished his morning run.

“good morning, papa.” you greet him with your usual kind eyes.

“morning,”

he’s fresh out of the shower, wearing a sleeveless shirt and a lounge short, a small towel sitting on his damp hair. he sits on the tatami while you plate breakfast for the two of you. the air is dry and suddenly even the tatami is not that comfortable.

breakfast was quiet, it has always been quiet. but not like this, it’s normally filled with you clinging to his arm and playfully sneak your head under his arms right above his folded feet, facing him with a half closed sleepy smile.

you steal glances at him but he’s always looking down. just when you have the courage to break the silence, he says i enjoyed the food, and puts his dish in the sink.

“i’m staying out tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

you were only able to muster a ‘good luck at work, papa!’ before he’s gone again.

it’s 5pm. you just got home from enji’s agency, dropping of a set of suit you picked up from the launderer. reservation is at 8pm, you have three hours to call him about it and get ready yourself.

“hello,”

“ah papa ! are you busy now ?”

“yeah, i thought i told you this morning.”

it’s a lie, you asked his assistant and his schedule is empty from 5pm above.

“well, not according to your assistant apparently.”

it’s silent.

“well, i just dropped off something for you at the receptionist ! make sure to wear them, dinner’s at ___ at 8pm under my name, i’ll see you there papa ! i love you!”

“wait—“

you leaned to the wall behind you and press your phone to your chest in a relieved sigh. really, you’ve been living together literally your whole life, how are you still nervous like a preteen talking to their first crush ?

you shake your head mentally and start to get ready. in the mean time.. enji is dumbfounded. he’s just confused and the receptionists are grinning knowingly, which makes him even more, confused. good thing his office has a shower and a spare room though.

it’s 7pm. you apply some final touches of light make up. the two light honks from outside signals that your driver is here, ready to take you. the restaurant is pretty close from enji’s office, but it takes a good 25 min walk from the todoroki residence and you don’t wanna ruin your hair.

you get up and look at yourself in the mirror, you’re wearing a black designer dress that exposes your shoulders with a small purse on the right of your hand. you’re ready to go.

8 pm.

“ah, endeavor-san, how can i help you tonight ?”

the hostess welcomes enji with a polite smile.

“i have a reservation under my daughter’s name, todoroki y/n.”

“right this way, sir.”

enji follows the hostess to a more secluded table from the others, he notices it’s way quieter than the main dining hall, the view next to both of the seats are the wide view of city lights. the waiter serving them tonight introduces himself and hands him the menu, while pouring water from a sealed glass bottle to enji’s glass. he looks through some pages but then decided to just wait for you to order.

you arrive no later than five minutes after he did, welcomed by the same hostess, and immediately taken to your table.

“you look good, papa.”

“you too,”

he takes his time to scan over you, your neatly styled hair, your set of greenish ocean eyes that matches his, the scar on your left cheek that you wear proudly, and lastly the way he realizes again just how breathtaking you are.

on the other side, you feel your heart flutter. he looks really good. the slightly opened white shirt, the perfectly tailored navy suit, emphasizing his strong arms that has saved way too many lives, too many times.

enji was too busy staring at you he didn’t even bother taking a look at his menu. and by the time the waiter was ready to take his order, he just went with the classic i’ll have one of what she’s having.

“how’s your day, papa?” you started the conversation.

“it’s normal, busy.”

you place your right hand on top of his, thumb gently rubbing comforting strokes on his palm.

“i missed you, you know.”

“well, you’re the one who’s been away so much.”

you’re honestly a bit startled at his bluntness, he usually won’t do things like this. you get a bit shy and shifts your gaze from his to where your palms are lightly entangled.

“i’m sorry papa, i can’t help it, i needed extra shifts.”

“for what ? is it about money ? you know you can always ask me, right ? i don’t mind providing for you for the rest of my life as long as i get to come home to you, and not just a cold dead hall.”

you’re out of words, his brows is contorted, and the glint in his eyes shows something you guessed to be dissapointment ? guilt ?

“i’m sorry,” you say again, hands shyly squeezing his and the other toying with the ends of your skirt. your heart still goes on a marathon when it comes to him.

the dinner was nice, it’s slow paced and calm, just like how he likes it. the little tense you two had is now slowly melting away. opting to take a walk home instead, you walk hand in hand under the generous light of the moon.

enji took off his suit halfway and put it around you, keeping his right hand in his pocket while his other is entangled with your much smaller one. his shirt has now one more button open, sleeves rolled neatly three times as they rest proper on half of his arm.

you can’t stop smiling, butterflies going crazy in your stomach like a lovesick fool, that you maybe are. you don’t know if it’s from the wine, but he’s way more talkative right now, you’re making jokes here and there, laughing to yourself while gripping his hand tighter and hugging his arms with your other hand. he’s laughing a little too, not that he doesn’t appreciate it, that’s just how he is.

you’re waiting to cross the road at the last junction before you reach your home, the road is clean empty but the light is still red. the both of you don’t mind, he takes this chance to pull you tighter against him and breathe the always comforting natural scent of your hair.

your solace is interrupted by the ding of the crossing light turning green, but enji doesn’t let go, so you start walking slowly like that, pressed against each other, steps getting tangled making it hard to walk. the things you do for love.

it’s 11 pm.

he goes in first while you lock the front door and make sure all the lamps in the yard are on. he sits down and starts to take off his shoe, you quickly slipped of your heels and crouched between his legs to do it for him instead. your short dress riding up, displaying your already exposed milky thighs in its glory.

you can tell where he’s looking and feel the twitch of your insides from the yearning you’ve been holding back. he reaches out his right hand to caress your cheek. you lean to his rough hands and give him a faint smile before you push your body towards his in attempt of pinning him down, disguised by an innocent hug. your head resting on his chest while he supports himself with one arm and holds you back with the other. he face touches the bare skin of your neck and finds comfort there. pressing kisses that quickly turned wet.

you lift up your head and pulled his supporting hand towards you, making sure he’s fully laid on the wooden floor, arms caging his head, hazy eyes looking down on his meaningful orbs. it’s not long before you crash your lips together in a desperate kiss, your spit drooling down his chin, his stubble grazing the smooth well cared surface of your face.

you sit down on his crotch and he abruptly breaks the kiss with a groan, but you’re quick to grab his face and pull him in an even more passionate open mouthed kiss, his hands find the swell of your ass and guide them so you’re now grinding on his growing bulge too.

the mutual need to breathe forces both of you to break the kiss. foreheads now touching together, heavy ragged breath mixing, the intimacy making you dizzy. but the high wears off sooner than you thought and you can’t help but hide your reddened face to his neck, not wanting him to see you blush, hands clutching him tight as he sits back up holding you properly.

“let’s go take a bath, i’m sweaty.”

you can only offer a weak nod, still too embarrassed of what you just did. he hoists you up to his shoulder and carries you to the bathroom.

it’s so warm. you’re sitting between his legs leaning to him, his strong arms on your stomach protectively, body radiating comforting warmth to yours, making the both of you completely relaxed.

you almost let yourself fall asleep if not that you remember about his gift. so you get up first, telling him to enjoy the bath a little longer and go sprint to your room.

you quickly dried your hair and put on a set of babydoll you’ve been keeping for this day. it’s a simple white see through babydoll with soft lace that hangs prettily on your supple thighs. you put on your sleep robe and go to his room with a deep green paperbag on your right hand.

it’s 11.30 pm.

the futon is laid and you’re sitting above it on your knees, your gift hidden behind your figure.

enji comes out of the bathroom already in his sleepwear, a black set of loose shirt and a matching pants. his hands are still busy trying to dry his own hair until he looks up at the sight of you and pauses.

you pat the spot next to you, signaling him to sit there. he walks up to you and sit crossed legged in front of you. he can see the rather big paperbag behind you but decided not to say anything.

“what is it ?”

you opened your mouth in attempt to answer him but was left with nothing, so you just shoved the paperbag and places it in on the little space between the two of you, encouraging him to open it. he’s still not getting it and looks at you with genuinely asking eyes, but you’re too stubborn to meet his eyes and just keep looking at the walls to your right, peach blush already forming again.

“it’s for you,” you brave yourself to look at him in the eyes and finally say it, “happy birthday, papa.”

enji felt like his brain short circuited. but you ushered him to open your gift before he could say anything. you watch as his big hands fully envelop the big green box inside, the one your clumsy hands almost dropped.

he opend the box and stares at it for a while. it’s a platinum rolex day-date 40 from it’s 2021 men collection.

“this is expensive,” was the first respond he let out.

“we-well, that’s why i’d been taking extra shifts,” you sheepishly rub the back of your head. enji’s strong gaze didn’t waver.

“you didn’t have to—“

“but i want to !” you cut him,

“it’s just—“

you grab the pillow behind you and hide your face in it, finding it hard to speak to him eye to eye like this. “i love you, and sometimes i can’t help my feelings, i just thought, this is what people do to their loved ones.. you know,” you explain in a voice growing smaller than before, almost completely muffled by the pillow.

he lets out a sigh before repacking his gift, putting it back inside the paperbag and placing it on his side. you’re getting nervous.. is he mad ? did he not like it ? were you pushing it ?

all your silent doubt dies down as he pulled you close to his chest.

“i love you too, thank you.”

his voice runs beautifully through your ear, the sensation going straight to your heart. you ease up and holds him back.

“um, papa,”

“hn”

“i still have another gift,”

he pulls back and looks at you with a raised brow. you better not have unnecessarily give up you rest just to buy him a ‘gift’, it translates. both your hands come out in front of you in a waving motion to dismiss his half true accusation, but you struggled so much trying to pull out the right words.. you just let out a bashful sigh and unties the knot in front of your outer, before letting the dense fabric hit the floor, revealing the pretty babydoll sitting pretty and proper accentuating your pretty pretty curves.

he stills.

“do-does it look weird..?”

he scans over you for a while but your embarrassment made you thought he was looking at you in a weird way.

your cheeks are heating up, eyes glued to your thighs before you hear a rustle and suddenly your back is against the futon with one arm pinned above your head by his weight, and your other one is in his, you look at you favorite set of eyes that matches yours and the blue sky, he presses your hand to the side of is face and land a deep kiss on the innerside of your wrist, leaning against it while staring back at you.

it was a good birthday.

happy birthday todoroki enji, 8.8.21

[uwuwriting]

Denki, Dabi and Bakugou in a secret relationship

Request: hii!! i loved your post about the secret relationship being exposed and i was wondering if you could do the same for dabi bakugo and denki - anonymous

Um this was supposed to go up yesterday, I had queued it but tumblr decided to just deleted. Oh well. I hope you like it you guys even though its a day late. This was fun to write. Love ya. 💖💖💖

rules

warnings: some sexy times mentions, fluff

Kaminari Denki

-Kaminari is an idiot.

-I don’t even know who you’ve managed to keep your relationship a secret.

-90% sure the whole school knows and just pretends to be oblivious. 

-Anyways.

-It kinda bothers him that he has to keep it a secret. 

-He wants to scoop you up and spin you around in the hallways, hug you after a really rough training session with Bakubro, kiss you when you are being extra extra cute. 

-Plus he wants to brag to the other idiots for getting a girlfriend first. 

-But alas he respects your wishes and tries to keep it all under wraps. 

-Your parents are pro heroes and have warned you about the dangers of dating since you are their kid. 

-Villains wouldn’t hesitate to threaten you with your significant other if it means they’ll get to your parents. 

-So now Kaminari is stuck sneaking in your dorm late at night only to spend a few hours with you and give you as much kisses as he can fit in the little time you have. 

-Surprisingly he has kept it a secret for almost a year now. 

-No slip ups, no marks on his skin after a spice night, none of your clothes could be found in his room whatsoever.

-Apart from his usual flirty nature towards you, there was nothing that could indicate that you two were an item. 

-Now being in your third year, things had gotten rather serious with your hero works.

-Most of you if not all had been working along side a pro hero for the last year or two but that didn’t mean they would take you in after high school. 

-Every student had to wait for the acceptance letter from the agency or an agency in general and they would be set for their hero work after school. 

-You had been working with a hero agency since your first year and you were pretty happy. 

-But the pro hero you had been with decided that after you were done with your hero studies, he would retire leaving you with no agency to boost your career after school. 

-Kaminari was as devastated as you were.

-He tried comforting you as much as he could, extra hugs and kisses, more snacks and movie nights, anything to help you cope with the fact that you would be back to the starting line once school was over. 

-He hated seeing you cry. 

-Then the unthinkable happened. 

-Mt.Lady was a well known hero and one with a desired sidekick position that no one seemed to really fill. 

-You had just helped her stop a major villain attack tricking the villain and capturing him before he could do any real damage in the area. 

-To say that Mt.Lady was impressed was an understatement. 

-She contacted your hero agency and asked if you had already signed a deal with them.

-You can see where this is going.

-When you got the notice from Mt. Lady’s agency you were over the moon and so was Kaminari. 

-He was so happy that the person he loved the most was finally getting what she deserved. 

-He had dragged you to the janitor’s closet to give you his personal congratulations, catching the attention of a certain red head.

-He kissed you like there was no tomorrow, his arms keeping you as close as possible, flush to his chest as he peppered your face and neck with feather light kisses. 

- “I’m so proud of you babe!”

-You tried to keep your giggles on the down low to no avail since Kaminari’s goal was to make you laugh. 

-For a long moment you didn’t care if someone found you, you were so happy and so comfortable in Denki’s arms that you didn’t want to leave the closet and go back to your hidden lives. 

-Then you saw the light coming from the door, getting ready to lightly scold Kaminari for leaving the door open when you made eye contact with Kirishima......and Mina ..... and Sero..... and somewhere in the far back with a pair of ruby red eyes.

- “Babygirl is everything alright?”

-He hadn’t seen them yet, then he followed your line of vision and the man has never yeeted you out of his arms faster in his life.

-Your friends just stared at you in complete shock for a full minute before Bakugou broke the silence. 

- “Oi you own me ramen Kirishima.”

Dabi

-With this guy I’m not surprised that you managed to keep it a secret. 

-Oh no no no.

-I’m surprised you managed to get him into a relationship.

-It wasn’t easy though you would give him that. 

-You were part of the LoV of course and well you didn’t really take any of their shit. 

-The only person you respected was Kurogiri and that was borderline pity. 

-He had to babysit a 20 year old killing machine with issues, many issues, many many issues. 

-When Dabi approached you with his signature flirty and I-only-do-one-night-stands-babygirl attitude, you being the idiot that you are took the bait.

-The LoV knows of yalls nights together but they only thought that that was it.

-Dabi slept around and you were a really attractive person. 

-Plus they knew you both were bored so sex was, to their eyes, the only solution. 

-What they didn’t know though was that Dabi was starting to catch feelings and soon enough he hated seeing you remotely talking with another human being. 

-Then that fateful mission happened and the deal was sealed. 

-You were spying on Overhaul and his lackeys, hidden in his underground lab watching as they went around doing stuff.

-Then you heard a childish scream and it was the first time Dabi saw fear flash in your eyes. 

-You turned around following the source of the screams absolutely ignoring Dabi’s protests and threats. 

-It was like you were in a daze and Dabi felt the terror sink his claws in his throat as you passed by so many of Overhaul’s members nearly getting caught. 

-When you reached the glass door that led into Eri’s experiment lab, he saw the color drain from your face and your knees buckling. 

-He caught you before you hit the floor dragging you away from the lab door despite the fact that you clawed at his coat to put you down. 

-He felt his shoulder getting wet and that’s when he saw the tears that were falling freely down your cheeks. 

-He had managed to calm you down long enough to convince you to leave before you got caught but luck wasn’t on your side when one of the lackeys spotted you. 

-Dabi was a few feet away from the exit, becoming reckless at the sight of freedom not noticing the masked individual pointing his gun at him. 

-You noticed though. 

-And you got in the way, pushing Dabi to the ground as the quirk cancelling bullet pierced your side leaving you to fall to the floor with a grunt and a strangled pained moan.

-The next few minutes were a blur.

-Dabi didn’t remember how he got you out of there or how he was now on a rooftop with you pressed flush against his chest as the affects of the bullet made you tremble. 

- “Shh doll, shhh. I’m here I got you.”

-He knew your trembling was not entirely because of the bullet, he saw how your eyes glassed over at the sight of Eri back in the lab and he knew that this had something to do with your past. 

-He used to get the same glassy eyed look on his face when he would see Endeavour on the news shortly after his “death”.

-Things changed after that. 

-He didn’t take you to the hideout that night, he brought you to his apartment where he helped you clean up your wound and calm down. 

- “I know it’s not my place to ask but what the hell to you happened back there?”

-When you explained what you’ve been through and how those screams brought back things you thought you had long ago buried, he was left gawking at you. 

-For some weird reason he believed that you were just a brat who ran away from home on some rebellious whim. 

- “Ugh what am I saying? You don’t give a damn! Why did I even-”

- “Touya.”

- “What?”

- “My real name is Touya, I-I wanted you to know.”

-Sharing a heart felt night analyzing your past trauma with someone you sleep with is one way to get yourself into a relationship.

-You both agreed to keep it secret and you did keep it like that for a long time, a very long time. 

-The LoV never truly found out. 

-Some had their suspicions sure, Mister Compress had even made a bet with Toga but you two never gave them any further hints apart from the constant paired up missions you went on. 

-The only one who knew was Kurogiri. 

-He had caught you two spending the night together on a rooftop, all cuddled up together your hands intertwined as you looked up at the stars. 

-He was getting back from an emergency snack run when he saw the familiar glow of Dabi’s blue flames and your characteristic giggles. 

-He never said anything and when Dabi came to him to ask for some pregnancy facts, he knew that he truly loved you. 

-No one ever knew and no one will ever know. 

-Unless the run into you two in five years while you’re out for a walk with your son. 

Bakugou Katsuki

-Sparky sparky boom boom man is a lil bitch.

-Don’t try to argue you know that too. 

-You just need to accept it.

-His way to approach you was by insulting the living shit out of you before making you reach the tip of an anger fit. 

-He knew how to press your buttons and it made you fume. 

-You had to give it to him he was hella attractive and his true personality shined through his faced at times. 

-And so did his worry for you.

-You got together after his kidnapping. 

-He suffered from nightmares after the incident and one night he came to your dorm, trembling and cold sweat running down his spine. 

-He had no idea why his feet led him to your room, he just knew that you were now wrapping him in a fluffy blanket and putting on a Disney movie as you hugged him so so tightly. 

-He slept over and the next morning he confessed. 

-Actually you both confessed but those are useless details. 

-In reality it wasn’t even a confession with words. 

-You both woke up facing each other, your noses touching and I don’t know who leaned in first but next thing you knew you were kissing his hand cupping you cheek while the other intertwined with yours. 

-Keeping your relationship a secret with this one is easy. 

-He is still being a lil bitch to you and you are still sassing him back.

-Behind closed doors he is kinda sweet and caring not a lot though because even with you he has to uphold his reputation. 

-After some time though he calms down and is a cuddle bug. 

-Like he will tackle you on the bed the moment you close the door to his dorm, restricting any movement until he is satisfied with the cuddles. 

-Baby even said ‘I love you’ first awwww!!

-He was so shy about it. 

-Anyways.

-That’s a story for another time. 

-He doesn’t really care about keeping it a secret anymore. 

-He’s low key tired of hiding. 

-Much like Kaminari he wants to kiss you whenever he wants, hold you and hug you till you can’t breathe after he gets back to the dorms after a rough patrol with his hero study. 

-But oh well the cat isn’t out of the bag yet and you being third years now you couldn’t really do something about it. 

-You spend so much time with him that you would think that some of your classmates would like sniff you out. 

-But no.

-They all dumb af.

-You would spend a lot of time with him and the Bakusquad since your first year so they just think you’re really good friends. 

-Todoroki kinda knows but he doesn’t at the same time. 

-Some mannerisms remind him while he was in a secret relationship before Momo found out but then he sees how Bakugou treats you just like any other person so he is really confused. 

-More confused than usual. 

-Now you got outed by the man himself. 

-Bakugou is not good with jealousy. 

-Jealousy and Bakugou should never go hand in hand.

-You were talking to Mina in class, leaning on the desk behind you. 

-Your skirt had ridden up show casing your thighs making Bakugou think back to some noises you made a few nights ago. 

-If he got hard he would blame you and he would be extra pissy. 

-He was enjoying the show though. 

-He watched you like a hawk.

-The way your body leaned back making your legs straighten and flex slightly or how he could see the hickey he had left right at the base of your neck the other night that you’ve tried to cover with make up. 

-He could see it because he knew it was there, to an outsider everything was normal. 

-He was jolted out of his daze by Mineta’s voice. 

-And the sound of your name on his lips. 

- “Look at Y/N’s thighs! She could suffocate me with those legs and I would thank her!”

-Kirishima smacked him upside the head trying to shut him up. 

-Kaminari was slowly escaping the scene because he saw the small sparks in his friend’s hand at the comment. 

-He chose life. 

-Mineta though didn’t stop. 

- “I could lose myself between those legs. Oh the noises she must make.”

-Now what happened next is a huge question mark. 

-The end result however was Mineta almost being blasted out the window and into space and Bakugou almost popping the vein on his forehead. 

-You had to get in between them and try to calm down your boyfriend. 

-Most of your classmates had long forgotten Mineta and his whining and had zoned in on your hands on Bakugou’s chest or on his arm that had wrapped around your waist in an attempt to push you behind him. 

- “You ever dare speak my girlfriend’s name I’m blasting you to the next dimension.”

- “Katsuki please calm down it’s fine.”

-Legit you both forgot that your relationship had been a secret for the past three years. 

-You floated back into reality when Present Mic himself asked. 

- “YOu TWo aRe aN iTeM?????”

-Chaos ensued and a crap ton of explanations. 

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​

[xoxo-teddybear]

His Home - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Injury, Blood, Sexual harassment, implied rape, murder, NOT SPELL CHECKED

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Request: So could you write a husbandbakugo x wifereader where when bakugou is away on a mission or anything, there's a villain who break into his house and kidnapped her (the reader is not a hero). And please be a happy ending :) but the rest is up to you💕

It’s been 2 weeks. 2 weeks too long for Katsuki and his family. Pro Hero Dynamight had been recruited on a mission to stop a drug dealing case out in the states, leaving his beloved son and loving wife behind. Even though Y/N wasn’t a pro herself, she could still take care of herself really well, including their baby boy. After constant reassurance that they’d be fine, Katsuki was okay with leaving for a few days.

A few days. A few days, NOT WEEKS. He had been gone for too long. Of course he trusted his wife to protect herself and their son, but he didn’t want her to have to protect them. After arguing with the chief of the mission, coming to a conclusion, and stopping the entire case himself in desperation of getting home, Dynamight could finally return home to his family. At least....that’s what he thought.

Bakugou drove home quite quickly in hopes of being smothered with love and affection from his son and wife, but as he pulled in, he noticed something was...... off. The porch light wasn’t on, it was too early for the lights in the house to be off, and even the cold chilly air stilled in silence gave him all the indications of something being in distraught. He quickly exited his car and slammed the door shut, forgetting to lock the vehicle as he hurriedly jammed the house key into the lock and busted the door wide open.

“Y/N!....Y/N?!....Katsuo??!” The blonde cried out. When his eyes finally settled to the dark atmosphere, he noticed how the bright moon lighted the house to show the terror that lay in. Glass and plates smashed on the grown, shelves and book cases thrown around, the T.V fallen from above the fireplace that had soot, ash, and stray wood surrounding it. He looked over and saw the couch out of place and on it, his unconscious child covered in scratches. Katsuki quickly ran to him to check on his poor boy.

“Katsuo,” the older blonde exclaimed as he shook his double awake, “please, wake up! Katsuo!” With a final shake, the child finally began to open his eyes and adjust to what he saw. A shadow of a man shaking him.

“Ahhh! Please, please don’t hurt me! Please! I didn’t do anything!” The younger blonde cried out and hugged himself in fear. Katsuki’s heart broke seeing his son in such fear. Who the hell did this to his poor boy.

“Katsuo! No, no, no, no, no. It’s me, it’s dad.” Katsuki reassured his son as he rubbed his back to calm him down. Katsuo turned to the man with teary eyes in shock and relief.

“Dad?” The boy questioned as he got a better look. Once he confirmed it was his father, he jumped into his arms.

“Dad! It’s you!” The boy sobbed into his father’s chest. Katsuki grabbed onto the boy, hugging him tighter as if the world was going to end, as he whispered reassurance into his ear.

“It’s me buddy, it’s me. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Who did this to you?” Bakugou asked as he examined his son’s body. The young blonde had his gray sweats teared, his white socks covered in soot and stains of blood along with his white tee.

As the child wiped his eyes, and looked at his father, he apologized.

“I’m sorry, dad.” The boy looked down in shame. Bakugou was so confused. What could his child be apologizing for at a time like this?

“I wasn’t strong enough.”

Oh, why did his son have to be exactly like him. Katsuki had to hold him once more to tell him it was all okay.

“Katsuo, none of this is your fault.” Bakugou said while holding onto his precious child.

“...These 3 men..they came in with a briefcase and said they wanted to “get something to trade.” They broke open the door as me and mom were watching T.V and told us to go with them. Mom put up a good fight, and I tried to help. I used my quirk to blow up the case they brought with them. After that though, the knocked me out. I see mom is gone, so they must’ve taken her and left me behind. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything else.” The younger blonde said in shame once more.

“Katsuo....I’m so proud of you.” With those words, Katsuo looked up to his father in confusion.

“You’re 5 years old and you took great action to protect yourself and your mom. Not a lot of kids could do what you just did. I’m proud of you, and I’m so glad you’re okay son.” Bakugou said. His child finally showing a smile with a face identical to Katsuki’s and E/C eyes that replicated yours.

“Thanks dad.” The young boy said as his father picked him up.

“Of course. You’ll be an incredible hero in the future. The best of the best. I know it.” Bakugou said as he carried his son to the bathroom. “Let’s wash you up, change your clothes and get you to bed. You had a long night.”

“But what about mom? Shouldnt we go look for her.” Katsuo said in worry.

“Of course we will son. I will do everything in my power to bring her home to us as quickly as possible. That’s a promise, but right now, my priority is making sure everything is straight here at home. You’re mother is the strongest person I know, she will be okay, but I have to take care of you first. Okay?” Bakugou explained.

“Okay dad.”

——————————————————————————

When Katsuo was washed up and tucked in bed, Katsuki went downstairs to clean up and fix whatever he could. When he finally saw the horrible sight, terrible thoughts came to mind of what could’ve went down. The longer he thought about it, the closer he was to tears. Y/N and Katsuo are his entire life. If one of them were gone, it would throw his entire being all out of wack. But he had faith in his powerful wife. She can withstand anything they throw at her....but he wasn’t sure how long. Bakugou began to sweep the glass and soot, throw away the broken wood, mop the floors of blood, put the couch and coffee table back into place, and moved the T.V to the side. That could be fixed in the morning. Once he was done, he took a shower and headed to his room for bed.

The Alaskan king sized bed was huge. It was giant, especially for just 2 people and the occasional child, but the love of his life was always right next to him to make the cold, empty bed feel warm and full of love and happiness. Now she’s not here. As Bakugou lays with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling, he realized he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He journied out of his bed and to his son’s room. As he opened the door, he saw his child right in front of it as he seemed to have opened it as well.

“Whatcha’ doing bud?” Bakugou asked as he looked down to his mini me.

“Couldn’t sleep. Too cold..... Too scared..... Too lonely.” He son replied. Bakugou internally smiled at how his son and him were so similar. He really was a carbon copy of Bakugou Katsuki, that’s for sure.

“C’mon son,” Bakugou said as he lifted his boy up and walked towards the full sized bed. “We’re gonna need some sleep.” As the two blondes lay side by side, still staring at the ceiling, the younger one spoke up.

“.......Everything’s gonna be okay....right dad?” His son said with a break in his voice and teary eyes. “Mom will come back, and we’ll go back to being the awesome family we always are...right?” The boy said while looking at his father.

Bakugou stared at him for a bit, before pulling him into his chest and rubbing his back.

“I promise, Katsuo.”

The young child quietly sobbed into his fathers chest once more, after holding in all these tears for so long, and held a firm grip on Katsuki’s shirt. As Katsuki held onto his sad son, he too let a few silent tears shed as he hid his face atop of his son’s head.

‘I promise.’ The loving father thought to himself as he kissed the top of the boy’s head and held him a little tighter than before.

——————————————————————————

It’s been 3 days. 3 days too long for Katsuki and his worried son. They’ve been apart from Y/N for 3 days and are worried sick. After the two woke up from that sad night, Bakugou called in the Bakusquad to help find Y/N. The squad was lucky enough to be able to find DNA evidence and find out exactly who was in the house. Through the power of the internet and high tech power, they were able to track the villains and gather intel. Where they stay, what they do, their quirks, and where their base is. They’ve taken a very knowledgeable guess and estimate to find out where Y/N was, and now it was time to come up with a plan. They’ve been working for a few days and Bakugou was starting to get frustrated.

“AGH! WE’RE NOT GETTING ANYWHERE!” Bakugou exclaimed.

“Hey man, don’t you think it’s time we go to the agency and get their help and permission on this?” His best friend asked.

“I would love to get more help, especially from the agency, but there’s too many rules with them for a case like this. We have to go off the books to find Y/N, because when we do, nobody and no rules are gonna stop me from killing the idiots who thought it was okay to touch my wife!” Bakugou screamed out.

“Well you do realize how illegal this is right? We’re heroes, we’re supposed to abide by the law, stop those who break it, and kinda enforce it too.” Mina said.

“We were Y/N’s friends and family before we were pro heroes. If you’re too scared to go on, I won’t force you to continue, but nothing is going to stop me.” Bakugou calmly said.

As the silence filled the room, everyone bowed their heads. They were all confused and scared and worried for their dear Y/N.

“......How’s Katsuo taking this?” Kaminari asked.

“For a 5 year old, really well. Since I dropped him off with Deku and Round Face, he’s had other things to do but I’m sure his mom is all he could think about....I made my son a promise and I’m going to keep it. I’m gonna get her back.” Bakugou said.

With that, another silence fell upon the room. The squad came up with multiple plans but they all had major flaws. The one with the biggest risk however, would be the most efficient one. After thinking about it and having it in the backs of their minds, Kirishima spoke.

“Bakugou, let’s go with your plan.” The entire group looked up at the faux red in shock.

“Kirishima are you crazy?!” Mina asked.

“People will die if we go through with it. People who don’t deserve death as a final punishment!” Sero added on.

“Well Y/N is gonna die if we don’t do something about it right now. We have the best option right now, and yeah, it’s not the most holy, but it’s what we got! Do we wanna save our friend or not?!” Kirishima exclaimed.

After exchanging some looks and nods of agreement, the group was in. They were so lucky they weren’t doing this by the books.

“Okay then. Cover our tracks, don’t leave behind any evidence, and nobody get caught. We keep a steady flow and waste no movements. Get in, save Y/N, get out.” Bakugou explained while standing up.

“Let’s go save my wife.”

——————————————————————————

Here we are. The Bakusquad right infront of the warehouse they were keeping Y/N in. How did they get here? Bakugou’s plan of course. Go in to the HQ, demand answers, kill when getting no answers, kill when you got the answers. Kill, Kill, Kill. Blood now stained the hands of the Bakusquad both literally and figuratively. Whatever it takes to save her.

As Bakugou blew down the door with an explosion, multiple men came attacking the 5 heroes. Each henchman and goon getting killed in the process. When the crowd of people was left to just the pros, they looked around and saw Y/N right in the middle of the room. Her arms were being held up to suspend her and she was barely moving. Her body left in nothing but her panties and bra, her torso covered in blood and gashes, her arms littered with tears in the skin, her body covered in bruises, and her legs filled with cuts. The sight was torture to Bakugou as he attempted to run out to her.

“Y/NNN!!!” The blonde said as he sprinted towards his hurt wife, however, he was stopped.

“Come any closer and I’ll slash her pretty little throat.” Said a man as he showed up behind Y/N, coming out of the shadows and keeping Bakugou at bay.

Bakugou growled in frustration before speaking. “Let her go! Please! I’ll give you anything!” He bargained.

“Oh I know you will. That’s the whole reason why we took this gorgeous thing right here,” the man said while tilting your head to make you face him. Bakugou saw your blurred eyes stare right at the man in a dull manner. You were almost gone. “We want......well....we just want nothing to be honest. What we really want is you gone, but we’re aware we can’t kill you. None of us stand a chance against Dynamight BUT, there’s more than one way to destroy a person. When I kill your wife, your heart and soul, I’d be destroying you. Dynamight wouldn’t be able to function without his precious girl, and would be a shit hero because of it. More crime to the villains.”

Bakugou grunted at the whole thing, shaking in his boots. His dear wife, right there infront of him and he couldn’t do shit. Bakugou really got ticked on when the man spoke of what they did to Y/N.

“Don’t her scars look beautiful? She had the most melodious screams. It made the lot of my men wonder how she would sound in bed,” the smirked at he went to grab at Y/N’s breast.

“You bastard! Get your hands off my wife!” Bakugou screamed.

“That’s fine, I, along with others, have already had our fun with Y/N. Her pussy is completely stretched out now.” The man said with a smirk.

Bakugou saw red. “You fuckers RAPED MY Y/N?!???!!!!” The villain only smirked towards Bakugou before holding silence for a few seconds.

“Her cries were quite lovely,” the man said as he licked Y/N’s lips and kissed her. Everyone could see Y/N flinch and struggle to get away from the nasty attack. And they couldn’t do anything about it.

As the villain went on, Chargebolt noticed something. Rubber boots! How could he forget! After being on so many missions together, the Bakusquad all agreed the bottoms of their hero costumes should consist of rubber, so Denki could do his attack through the floor without hurting them. So with the villain distracted and back to talking, Denki shot 4 million volts into the floor, shocking the man, hearing him scream in pain. When Denki stopped the attack, the man was left there standing, still alive of course, but weak enough for Bakugou to take his anger out on him. Denki is such a good friend.

Bakugou blasted off and went straight to the man, grabbing his throat and beating him. He littered his with bruises and let the man experience all types of pain. It was a brutal murder and Bakugou ended it with grabbing the man’s neck and blasting him right then and there. It was over. It was done.

As Katsuki ran towards Y/N, he told the squad to clear the place of any proof they were there. Once he reached his wife and got her down and held her close and cried.

“K-Katsuki..” Y/N said weakly. Bakugou held her closer in his lap as he cried into her hair.

“I-...I’m here Y/N. I-it’s ok, I’m here. I got you....it’s over now.” Bakugou felt Y/N snuggle into him as she let a sigh of relief and comfort. Bakugou was too busy crying and saying his apologies. He couldn’t hear his sweet wife utter the most important phrase she had to say at the moment.

“Thank you.” She softly whimpered out.

——————————————————————————

It took a few days for Y/N to be fixed up again. The rape was hard on Y/N, but that’s okay because Bakugou was willing to wait for her whenever she felt ready. He was just happy to have his family back together....well..almost. After having multiple appointments with recorvery girl and extra TLC at home, Y/N was ready to get her son back. The drive to Deku’s house would be excruciating. Y/N just wanted to hold her baby boy in her arms and feel his love.

“You ready?” Bakugou asked with a smile as he saw Y/N looking at herself in the mirror. She returned the smile and walked up to her husband, embracing him in a loving hug, which he gladly returned.

“Thank you....for everything, hero.” Y/N smiled with the side of her face pressed against his chest. Bakugou kissed the top of her head before speaking.

“I love you, Teddy Bear.” Bakugou smiled.

“....Yeah...well not as much as I love you.” She said back with sass.

Bakugou’s eyes shot open at that comment.

“Is that a challenge shitty woman?!” Bakugou said while shaking her at her shoulders. Y/N only giggled before speaking.

“Nope, a challenge would be who gets to drive the new car to pick up Katsuo!” Y/N said while taking the keys out of Katsuki’s hand and running off.

“Wha- but-.....BUT I WANNA DRIVE IT!” He said like a child. The two tussled for the right to drive and laughed as they finally got to be together as the loving couple they are.

——————————————————————————

As Bakugou drove, Y/N held onto his hand. They were both smiling and couldn’t wait to be a happy family again.

“I’ve missed him so much..” Y/N said aloud.

Bakugou looked at her with content before speaking.

“And he’s missed you, Teddy Bear. We both did. It didn’t feel right with you gone.” He said while picking up your hand and giving it a kiss.

“Well I’m back now.” You said while smiling.

“And everything is almost perfect, we just need to get one more thing.” Katsuki said as he pulled into Deku’s driveway.

When the green haired hero opened the door for the couple, his eyes sparkled with joy and relief.

“Y/N! You’re safe!” The young pro said while embracing you.

“Safe and ready to see my son!” You said with excitement.

“He’s upstairs in his room. I don’t think he woke up yet, oh and I’m sorry Ochako isn’t here. She would’ve loved to see you back home, safe.” Deku said with a smile as he made way for you both.

“No worries, I’ll give her a call,” you said as you dragged Bakugou’s hand up the stairs. Before you continued, you turned to look at Deku.

“Thank you for taking care of Katsuo while we were gone, Izuku. It means a lot to us.” You said with appreciation and friendly love.

Deku nodded with a smile as he gestured for you to continue your journey to your son. As you walked into the room, you saw him with messy bed hair, a little drool on his mouth, and covered in blankets. The sight of him almost brought you to tears. As Bakugou closed the door, you sat in his bed just petting his head, waiting for Bakugou to join you. With Katsuki now by your side, you shook the little boy gently until he stirred awake.

“Katsuo...I missed you, love.” You whispered.

“Wha...huh?” Katsuo said, while looking around. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw an Angel. His mother right next to him, giving him the kindest smile he’s ever seen. With tears in his eyes, he jumped on her, giving her the biggest hug.

“MOM!!!” The boy loudly sobbed as he held onto you tight. The moment was perfect. The light shining in on the room, a mother and son embracing each other, and tears of joy all around.

“Hi baby. I’m home.” You sighed as you held him tighter. “I’m so sorry if I worried you, Katsuo.”

“N-no, it’s okay. Dad p-romised me you’d be back. H-he promised he would bring you b-back and dad always keeps hi-s promises.” Katsuo said while trying to fight the little hiccups coming his way.

“He really does, doesn’t he?” You said while looking over at your husband. His eyes were filled with tears and he was smiling so much his cheeks were turning red.

“I-I love you both, so damn much.” Katsuki said with breaks in his voice. He leaned into to hold the two in his arms as he teared up along side with them. The family all together again, the love for one another stronger than ever before.

Bakugou thought they should be getting home soon, but that word seemed to mess with him. Home. It wasn’t a big mansion or the buildings that could be considered a house. His home was all right here in his arms. His home consisted of his wife and his son. His home are the two people in his life that mattered most to him. His home is right here, with them. No matter where they are, where they go, or what happens, Y/N Bakugou and Katsuo Bakugou will always be his home.

A/N: y’all I’m sorry if this sucked😭 I started this about a week ago, and took a minor break and wasn’t able to finish it. I finally did, and it’s kinda sloppy but I hope you enjoyed it none the less. I really just wanted to get it out bc the person that requested it was waiting for awhile so I felt so bad but HERE IT ISSS!! I hope you enjoy it. I’m sorry for the delay. See you soon Bear Cubs! 💗🧸

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ pro!hero bakugou katsuki x reader → heal

summary: you’re bakugou’s best friend and work partner and you’ve been in love with him for years. after his girlfriend cheats on him you’re left to pick up the pieces.  tags/warnings:  hurt/comfort, fluff, angst with a happy ending, very minor injury (blood), cheating (not by bakugou or reader), unrequited love (spoiler but not really) word count: 3,804  a/n:  this was my first time writing any x reader. hope you guys enjoy it!

You loved Bakugou Katsuki. That was a fact that you had accepted a long time ago and you were now at peace with that. You had gone to school with him and once you both graduated you worked at the same agency. Your quirks were a good match so you had been working together ever since. When he started his own agency he took you with him.  

The thing is, you never told Bakugou that you loved him. He was always so focused you assumed that he wouldn’t want a relationship and frankly despite all the things you had accomplished you were self-conscious and it was hard to think Bakugou would ever settle for someone like you.

A few years ago Bakugou started dating. You could still remember the hurt that burned in your chest as you tried to play it off and tease him like everything was normal. You spent most nights crying yourself to sleep a few weeks after that day.

She was a civilian, who in your opinion was very unlikable. You knew it was petty and you should be more mature but there was something about her that felt off. You figured it was your jealousy. You recalled the time she had ended up in some trouble, you had been able to pull her to safety only. Not only did she not thank you but she gave you an attitude. You figured she didn’t like you because you spent so much time with Bakugou in and out of work. You could understand that to some degree but it didn’t hurt to pretend to be nice.

It was so much easier loving Bakugou from a distance when he was single, you could tell yourself that he would never date anyone or marry them and that being his best friend was the most anyone would ever have. If you could talk to him, joke with him, look after him from his side as a friend you were content.

With him dating the dull ache of unrequited love turned into a dagger in her chest, burning pain only intensified by any movement. You wondered if you should try dating around. Maybe you could find someone who liked you that you could fall in love with and forget about Bakugou. You never got around to it, every time you seriously considered it you thought it’d be unfair to whoever you dated. They deserved someone who truly loved them, not someone trying to put a bandage on a broken heart.

Last week you had caught Bakugou red-handed, a small velvet box in his pocket. Your heart dropped, you thought you had hit rock bottom but it turns out you could always go deeper.

“Is that what I think it is?” You asked, trying to play it off as teasing. You prayed he couldn’t hear the crack in your voice.

“Shut up, it’s none of your business.” He growled back but you knew it was just because he was embarrassed.

“I’m surprised I never saw you as the marriage type.” You tried to say in a nonchalant tone.

“We’re getting old. We have to settle down eventually.” He said. The words stung, you knew he meant them aimed towards himself but you couldn’t help the bile that rose in your throat. I would have settled down with you but now I can’t look at another man without comparing everything about them to you. Who could ever come close to the Bakugou Katsuki.

“Bakugou we’re twenty-six, we just barely became adults if we’re being honest.” You joked.

“Well, I don’t want to be an old parent.” He said, eyes scanning the streets for any trouble. Your heart dropped a little more.

You wondered if you were strong enough to stand by and watch the love of your life get married and have children with another woman. You wondered how long it would be until you had to find an excuse to move away.

“I’m gonna head home since patrol is over.” You said trying to keep your voice steady.

“You aren’t going back to the agency?” He asked giving you an odd look, sensing something off. You knew each other too well.

“No, I have plans later I need to get home fast. I’ll get my paperwork done tomorrow, boss.” You lied about the plans, you needed to get away fast.

It doesn’t get rid of the suspicious look on his face but he doesn’t question you further and you quickly make your exit, barely able to keep it together until you get out of sight. You duck into an alley as tears stream down your face.

You haven’t seen Bakugou today. That concerns you, he never misses work for anything. You can’t count how many times you’ve had to drag him home and force him into bed after he comes into work with a high fever. You make sure things are covered at the agency before heading over to his apartment. Your heart beats quick, he hasn’t replied to your texts. It’s hard to keep the worst-case scenario out of your head.

Knocking on the door to his apartment you get no reply. Pressing your ear to the door you can hear a commotion, fear grips you, and you almost kick the door down before your rational sense tells you to use the key he gave you.

Bakugou’s apartment is a war zone. Furniture is turned over, glass smashed across the ground. You can smell the familiar lingering scent of his quirk. You would have thought he had been robbed if it weren’t from the sound coming from the bedroom.

Opening the door to his bedroom it’s even worse in here somehow. Bakugou is currently smashing picture frames against the wall. It’s distressing to see him so upset and not have a clue what’s going on.

“Bakugou!” You shout hoping to get his attention but he’s blinded by his anger. You let out a huff of frustration before moving closer to him, grabbing his arm as he goes to slam the already mangled frame again.

You’re startled but not shocked as he turns around in the blink of an eye and grabs onto your bicep, fingers digging in you can feel your skin under his hand start to burn.

“Bakugou! Snap out of it!” You shout again. Recognition crosses his face and he looks a little more coherent. You’re waiting for him to say something but he drops to the ground like dead weight, his hands pressing into his palms. You kneel, careful of the glass on the ground.

“Bakugou? What happened?” You ask in a softer voice. He takes so long to reply that you wonder if he will answer.

“She cheated.” You can barely make out the words through his covered face.

“What?” You ask.

“She was cheating on me!” He yelled pulling his hands away, the anger returning. “She was cheating on me for months like it was some game. When I confronted her about it she didn’t even try to defend herself. She wasn’t even upset.”

“Bakugou, I’m so sorry.” Your heart is breaking but not for yourself, this time it’s for the man in front of you that looks broken. You realize that he has cuts all over his body from the damage done to the apartment. “C’mon.” You say holding your hand out to him.

He looks at you confused but takes it. You lead him to his bathroom, sitting him down on the edge of the tub. The first aid kit is under the bathroom sink, you had patched him up here before.

Returning to him you kneel on the ground in front of him. You begin cleaning the cuts that litter his arms, wiping up the blood covering his arms. You look up at him and his eyes look so empty as he stares at the ground past you. Your overwhelmed by the urge to take him in your arms but decide against it. No, you should patch him up first.

You put band-aids on the ones that need them and leave the smaller ones uncovered. You lean up so your eye level with him, he has a cut across his cheek. You’re careful as you dab at it with a cloth, he doesn’t react if it does hurt. You put a band-aid on it before looking him in the eyes, his gaze still on the floor.

It hurts you so much to see him like this, it breaks you. What you would give to have him insulting you about something dumb you did or yelling about how you left your coffee mug on his desk again. Anything other than the painful silence. You lift your hand and softly cup his unharmed cheek, his gaze slowly raises to meet yours. Your thumb gently strokes the skin there hoping that it will soothe him in any way he can be at the moment.

You finally lean forward and embrace him, pressing your face into his shoulder avoiding any of the cuts on him. Your arms circle around his torso and you squeeze him tightly. You wish you could hug him tight enough to put him back together. It takes a moment but he eventually rests his head against your shoulder and he returns the hug. His grip is tight on the back of your shirt and you know he’s trying to pull the broken pieces back together himself. I would do anything for you to make this pain stop, you think.

You don’t know how long you stay there, holding each other tight but eventually you decide you should leave. The last thing he needs is to be stuck in the apartment that he shared with his girlfriend, the one that was currently trashed.

“Let’s go to my place.” You offer. “You can stay as long as you want, you shouldn’t stay here.”

He nods and your stomach drops, normally he would protest even if he agreed with what you wanted to do. It made you feel sick that he gave in so easily. You nod back before standing up and going into his room. You grab a duffel bag and grab his clothes and other things he’ll need while away from his home. By the time you’re done, he’s standing there watching you wordlessly.

“Let’s go.” You say you take his hand in yours. You had known Bakugou for years and worked by his side for most of them, this wasn’t the first time you had held his hand but the conditions were usually different. Normally you were dangling off the edge of a building as he pulled you up or you were dragging him out of harm’s way.

Holding his hand now was different, you could actually take note of what it felt like. His hand was much larger than yours, the callouses on his hand rougher than your own. It was easy to pretend that the circumstances were different, that you were dragging him out of his apartment to your favorite place to grab dinner together instead of taking him home with you to help console him from what had happened.

The car ride is silent, he’s still processing everything that’s happened and you have no words to say. You know that he needs time to think about everything, you refuse to push him to talk. Growing up you had to if you ever wanted him to process his emotions but Bakugou had matured a lot as he grew up and you knew that when he was ready he would talk.

“Here, you can take a shower if you want or you can change into something less torn up.” You say as you press the bag of clothes into his arms. “I’m going to make us lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.” He says. His retort gives you hope that he’s beginning to return to himself and not the empty shell of person who sat on the edge of his tub.

“I doubt you ate breakfast, I know you probably don’t want to eat but I’m making food and you’re going to eat at least a little bit.” You say. He doesn’t argue again, he heads towards your bathroom needing no directions.

You’re glad that you went grocery shopping yesterday. Even more glad that you always make sure to keep the ingredients to make Bakugou’s favorite dish in your fridge in case of emergencies. Or him demanding that you make it for him, as he does at times.

He’s in the shower for a long time. You’re finishing up lunch and you’re about to go check on him when you hear the water stop. You’re plating up the food when he walks into the kitchen wearing a fresh pair of sweat pants and a black shirt. His eyes are red but you don’t comment on it. You shove the bowl of food in his hands.

“Extra spicy, just how you like it.” You tell him as you grab your food. “Let’s sit down.”

You sit down on the couch in your living room eating in silence. Despite his denial of being hungry his food is gone in minutes. You grab his empty bowl from him to take it to the kitchen but before you can get up his hand is grasping your wrist. You look at him and his gaze is on the mark he left on your bicep when you pulled him out of his rage.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is raw and the guilt is clearer than day on his face. He slowly reaches towards your arm, his thumb softly glides at the edge of the minor burn.

“It was an accident.” You tell him in the most genuine tone you can manage, he’s been through enough the last thing he needs is to feel guilty for this. “Besides, I can handle you.” You tease trying to lighten the mood. Your hand covers his own on your arm and you squeeze it to emphasize your point. His hand drops back to his lap after a moment and you leave for the kitchen.

When you return to the living room you see him sitting there, he looks less empty but more annoyed. You figure he’s had enough time to process most of his feelings.

“How did you find out?” You ask, testing the water. If he didn’t reply you’d know he wasn’t ready.

“She left her phone when she left for work, I grabbed it to give it to her before she got out of the building but I saw her notifications.” He said. Pain stings in your chest for him, you can’t imagine how upsetting that would be. “She came back for her phone and I confronted her.”

“What did she have to say?” You ask.

“She acted like she got caught sneaking a cookie before dinner, she barely even cared.” He said, anger returning to his tone. “She’s been with him for six months, she said that she was only ever with me for my money and status. She wanted someone she could brag about.”

“Bakugou,” You said putting a hand on his arm.

“I guess it’s only fair.” He scoffed. “I never loved her either. But I’m still pissed off she made a fool of me.”

“You didn’t love her?” You tried to keep your tone even but it comes out like an exclamation. “Bakugou, you were going to marry her!” You nearly shout. Had you really spend the last year suffering while Bakugou dated someone he didn’t even care about?

“No, it was just convenient.” He answered. “The person I loved, they would never want me. I figured I should just get over it and move on.” His gaze is on the floor.

Your sick again, he didn’t love his girlfriend but he loved someone else. You really couldn’t win, could you?

“Bakugou, why wouldn’t someone want you?” You ask. How could he believe that.

“I’m loud, angry, and rude.” He says. “I’m not good at relationships, I just screw everything up. She deserves someone who will make her happy not burden them with their crappy personality.”

“Don’t say that about yourself!” You scold him. “You’re an amazing man, you’re strong and determined. Even if you don’t show it like other people you care more than most people do about your friends. You would go to the ends of the earth to help them even if you don’t admit it. You’re the best hero I’ve ever seen. You’ve matured so much since we were in high school, you worked on yourself and became a better person. I’ve been by your side for years, don’t you dare say that you aren’t good enough. If anything, anyone you date will never be good enough for you. You’re the best man I’ve ever met, you deserve everything you want in the world.” You take a deep breath after your rant, it takes a moment to realize how much you spilled out.

His eyes are off the floor and he’s staring at you in shock. There’s something in his eyes you don’t recognize but he doesn’t say anything.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” You ask, trying to steel yourself for his answer. Whoever it was you would help him as much as you could to get their affections. It would kill you to watch him fall in love with someone else but more than anything you wanted to see him happy even if it cost you your own happiness.

“It’s you.” He says and the silence is deafening after his words. At first you think you misheard him. You feel dizzy at his admission. This had to be a dream, there was no way. “It’s always been you.”

“I-” You try to speak but there are no words. Your head is spinning, the world falling apart around you in the best of ways.

Bakugou moves slowly, one hand holding your face like it’s delicate glass, the other reaches behind you and pulls you softly to close the distance. He leans in, a breath in between you, you know he’s waiting for you to close the distance. To answer his confession without a word. Once your brain processes it all you lean in a little too excitedly almost knocking your forehead against his.

You move your arms around his shoulders as your lips meet.

With one action the dagger in your chest is suddenly gone and the pain there melts away. You feel like you’re submerged in warmth, laying in a grassy field in gentle sunlight. You kiss him until your lungs can’t take it anymore. As you part you stare into his eyes, they’re filled with so much warmth and love it makes you tear up. You lean back in for another kiss.

“Bakugou-” You say as you pull back.

“Katsuki.” He says. You had used his given name on occasion but it always felt too personal, your heart couldn’t take it.

“Katsuki-” You repeat, it feels right now. A small smile lights up his face, it’s like staring into the sun. “I love you, I’ve loved you since we were kids.”

“Me too.” He replies. You let out a laugh.

“We really wasted a lot of years.” You said, nose brushing against his, arms still around him. It was almost sad the time you could have spent happily together but you’re too excited by the years you’ll get to spend with him going forward.

“We did, I’m not going to waste any more time.” He said before moving in for another kiss.

Bakugou stays at your apartment for two weeks before he mentions moving into a new apartment. With your heart in your throat you offer for him to move in with you, he doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

You help him go through his stuff, tossing anything that was hers but she hadn’t taken or things that remind him of her. You stand at his side as he tosses the ring he bought for her off a bridge even though you told him he should just sell it. He refused, not caring about the money and definitely wanting to avoid the shame of selling an engagement ring.

He didn’t love her, he never did but he still bares the scars of her infidelity. His self-esteem in a relationship was already low but some days it feels even lower when he things about what happened. He knows you would never do the same but regardless you still hold him tighter on those days and you don’t hold back any of your love or admiration for him.

Sometimes he feels embarrassed that it went on so long without him knowing but you reassure him that the only person who should be embarrassed is her. You don’t call him a victim, no he would hate that, but you tell him that he deserves better. You can’t hold back your smile when he says he already has better now that you’re together.

You spend your workdays out on patrol together, your usual banter filling the day as you fight off any villains who dare make a mess in you territory. On your days off you spend time in each other’s arms, basking in the happiness you finally found together or out on dates. Sometimes he drags you hiking even though you hate the bugs and other times you make him go to theme parks and force a pair of mouse ears on him.

It doesn’t take long for Bakugou to propose. Your relationship had been so close for so many years that it becoming romantic didn’t change much. You already knew everything about each other, you knew how to work with each other at your best and your worst. Making it official was a natural step.

Watching him tear up as you walk down the aisle is something burned into your heart and mind and you refuse to let it go as long as you live. Spending the night dancing, eating, and drinking with your closest friends who all were relived you finally got together was an unforgettable time.

You lay beside Bakugou, arms wrapped around each other, legs tangled together. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. You hold onto each other as if you would lose each other if you let go. You can’t get rid of the big smile on your face as his hands move lazily through your hair nearly lulling yourself back to sleep.

You love Bakugou Katsuki. That was a fact and you were more than happy to spend the rest of your life at his side not just as a friend or partner but as the love of his life and that made you happier than anything ever could.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Motel Living

this idea would not leave me alone, despite me having like three other fics barely done. it is very random. i dont even know what to say lol.

2554 words

enjoy!

Today was officially the one month anniversary of Aelin moving into a three-star motel. She did not think she'd be here for long, a couple of weeks at most, but here she was a month later, and on a Friday night no less. She should have been out with her friends, but she opted to stay inside.

She had to tell herself that she shouldn't complain. That there were people that were worse off than her. Living in a motel was fine.

But it still didn't change the fact that Aelin wished she wasn't living in a motel room. Especially one that was popular with long haul truckers whose snores sounded like chain saws and blenders on the highest level. That right now, down in the restaurant/pub that was only six doors down, an important football game was playing and the patrons inside were cheering wildly.

Aelin missed the house that she had been renting the last three years. Last year she had decided to start saving so that she could purchase the house itself, since it was still on the market since the day she moved in. It was hard, but Aelin was a determined woman and she set her sights on purchasing the house—she felt like she practically owned it anyway—up until the day she received a call from the real estate agency telling her that the house had been purchased and she had to move out.

Aelin disliked crying, but the waterworks started the minute she hung up. She really did love that house. Had created a small vegetable and herb garden to make it feel more homely. Made it hers in the three years she had occupied it.

There was a tiny silver-lining, however, since the new owners were coming from the other side of the continent, she had plenty of time to pack and move out.

But that silver-lining quickly disappeared once she started her search for a new home in-between packing and work. Every apartment, every house, every unit she looked out at was taken by the time she handed in her application. Every inspection starting to become fruitless when she knew that she wouldn't be the one to live in it.

Aelin hadn't realised that the market had become so cut-throat. She knew she was the perfect applicant because in all her years renting she never missed a single day, never received a complaint. Even when the landlord dragged his ass to fix something, Aelin kept her temper in its leash and did not throttle him the way she wanted too.

And as her luck ran out and Aelin had started to truly worry about where she was going to live because while she had multiple people in her life, she quickly realised that she couldn't ask any of them if she could move in for multiple reasons:

Aedion and Lysandra were recently married, and Aelin hadn't wanted to burst their newlywed bubble.

Chaol and Yrene were brand new parents, their baby girl born the day Aelin moved out, and she knew the last thing they wanted was someone else in the way.

Nehemia was in the same position as her, but her parents had invited her back home while Nehemia looked for somewhere else. Aelin's parents were dead, and her childhood home had been destroyed in a wildfire a five years ago, and Aelin had used the insurance money to pay off her debts. She cursed herself now for doing that, but Aelin hated being in debt and she did what she had too.

Fenrys lived in a one bedroom unit and had the worlds most uncomfortable couch, so he was out. And while Fenrys was one of her best friends, she didn't really talk with Connall, his twin. Nor did she often talk with Vaughn.

Dorian and Manon were travelling all over Erilea and Dorian's younger brother Hollin was house-sitting. Aelin couldn't stand Hollin for more than a few minutes at a time and she would rather live in the motel for a year than live in with him.

And then there was Rowan. He had been a close friend for years, until five months ago they decided that they had liked each other too much to keep being friends and officially started dating (at Lysandra and Aedion's wedding, of all places). If they had been together for longer, she would have asked him—but she didn't want to rush anything, because Aelin could so clearly see a future with him and she didn't want to hurt that future by moving in far too early in their relationship.

So that left Elide, her lifelong friend that was more like a sister. Elide was purely on the bottom of the list since she knew her friend cherished living alone after living in a shit-hole with her even shittier uncle—but Aelin knew Elide and if Aelin needed a place to stay, then Elide's door would be wide open. The two had gone to lunch and Aelin had been just moments away from telling Elide everything and asking for a world changing favour.

Until Elide had excitedly announced that Lorcan was going to move in.

And Aelin's plan had deflated. Again, Aelin knew that if Elide was aware of how desperate she was, Elide would invite Aelin to stay, but since Lorcan and Aelin didn't particularly get along, Aelin kept her mouth shut and congratulated her friend for the new milestone in their relationship.

So, all her options completely exhausted, Aelin looked for vacant motels, found that this was the best out of all the options and became a long-standing tenant.

Aelin had managed to keep everyone away from her new apartment by claiming that it wasn't ready for visitors. Most knew that Aelin was house-proud, a trait that she had inherited from her late mother, so they knew that when Aelin was ready, she would invite them.

It was getting hard, however, to keep Rowan away. Each date night and hang out ended up at his apartment and Rowan was becoming curious as to how her new place was looking.

Rowan wasn't judgemental, and he wouldn't look down at her for living in a motel room, but Aelin was the problem; she was too proud to show him her new place. Even when she was at her lunch with Elide, she had to beat down her pride at just the mere thought of asking Elide if she could move in.

Tonight, however, Aelin knew in her bones that Rowan would ask to come over. He had a completely shitty day at work—one that ended up in the hospital because for the first time in his career as a carpenter, Rowan had somehow gotten his hand in the way of his nail gun and shot right through the middle of his palm and was off work until it healed, which Rowan hated the most out of the whole ordeal, since Rowan was the type of person that always had to be doing something.

So when his face finally popped up on her phone screen, Aelin muffled a groan into her pillow (because there was no way in hell she was using the standard sheets the motel provided, she needed her bedding or she wouldn't get any sleep), took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto her face.

“How's the hand?” she asked by way of greeting.

“It'd be a lot better if there wasn't a hole in it,” was his groggy reply. “I just woke up from the longest nap and thought of you.”

“That's sweet of you to say,” Aelin said, “do you want me to come over? I could cook you my world famous grilled cheese.” Please say yes, she thought, please.

“As much as I love the sound of that, I just need to get out of my house,” Rowan said, “I know that you're house-proud and if you don't want me to see it, I understand, I'll even wear a blind fold if that'll make you happy, but I just...” he trailed off and Aelin could see his pained expression even though they were miles apart.

“Seeing all your work tools is making you miserable,” she supplied. Rowan grunted in confirmation. Taking a deep breath, Aelin said, “You can come over, I don't mind. I'd be happy to see you.” And she would be. She'd just have to kick her pride in the corner. “There's a pub right around the corner from mine and the cheeseburgers they have are really fucking good, and I mean that sincerely. Do you want me to get you one? Because I only have snacks and canned food at the moment.”

“A burger sounds good, with extra tomato, please.”

Aelin smiled. “Of course, I'll text you the address, and I'll see you soon.”

After ordering their dinner, Aelin tidied up (even though the space was immaculate) and waited, and waited. When a gentle knock sounded at her door, Aelin took the food from the restaurant worker and was just about to go back in when Rowan's truck pulled up.

Even ten car spots away, Aelin could see his puzzled expression from where she stood. Placing the food on the small, round dining table, Aelin waited by the door and gave Rowan her best smile when he stood in front of her.

His puzzled expression melted away momentarily when she kissed him hello, but it was back in full force when they pulled away.

“Fireheart,” was all he said, and it said everything that he didn't say.

“I know.”

“You're living in a motel room.” There was no judgement in his voice, like she knew there wouldn't be, but it was clear that he was confused about the whole thing. She should have just told him. She loved her late mother, but really hated the fact that she had passed her pride to Aelin. She hated the fact that, deep down, she was embarrassed, even if Aelin told herself that she had no reason to. The housing market was insane, there was no where else for her to go, and that she hated herself for not saving more money to buy her home of three years.

“I am,” Aelin said, “but it's not so bad. It's affordable and clean.” Aelin invited him inside and sat him down the small dining table.

From his spot, he took in the space. Saw the bar fridge that could barely hold a bags worth of cold food, her toaster oven and the dual butane stove she had to purchase because she didn't want to have to use the toaster oven all the time. The tiny closet that held a decent amount of clothes, but didn't make a dent in her considerable mountain of clothes that she had put away in the storage unit she was renting.

None of her candles were in sight and no books either. Aelin was taking full advantage of her library apps, but it wasn't the same. Aelin loved the feeling of a book in her hands, but there was no space and it would have been silly to bring in her bookcases.

“Where's all your stuff?”

“In a storage unit. I considered living in there, but it doesn't have an air-conditioner and this place does.”

Before Rowan could say anything, Aelin turned on the TV, put on whatever movie sounded dumb enough and ate her dinner.

Aelin could see the question burning in his eyes as she stuffed her mouth to avoid answering that very question.

Why didn't Aelin ask if she could stay with him?

Aelin wanted to tell him, she really did, but was afraid that if she showed how serious she was, Rowan might admit that he wasn't as serious as her.

But Aelin knew herself, knew that she was going to tell him at one point or another. She could tell Rowan anything and he wouldn't flinch. It was her own doubt stopping her.

“That really is the best burger I've ever had,” Rowan said when he was finished.

“It really is,” was all Aelin could think of to say. Gods, she felt so damned awkward. The question was still in Rowan's eyes, even as he laughed at the movie and its stupidity. So to avoid it for a bit longer, Aelin took the take-away boxes into the dumpster outback and immediately went for a shower afterwards.

When she came out, Rowan was lounging on her bed, his injured hand laying across his chest, the other arm fiddling with her comforter. Aelin dressed in a shirt that she may have borrowed without asking from Rowan and a pair of sleep shorts.

Borrowing underneath her comforter, Aelin rested her head on Rowan's chest and the awkwardness she felt deflated a bit as he pressed a kiss on her head.

Aelin told him how she ended up here. Including her embarrassment and annoyance at herself. Rowan listened attentively, as he always did. That was one of the biggest things she loved about him, that he listened. And Aelin was in love with him, she knew without a doubt. She was certain she fell in love with him when he danced with her at Aedion and Lysandra's wedding.

When the credits started to roll, Aelin took a deep breath and decided to plunge into uncharted territories. She kept her eyes glued onto the screen.

Aelin decided to bite the bullet. If it all went to hell, she would beat herself up later.

“I don't want to fuck things up with you.” Well, that wasn't how she wanted to start this conversation, but she supposed it was the best way to start off. “I wanted to ask you if I could move in, but our relationship is just so new, and I didn't want to ruin our future, because I can see a future with you, Rowan.” Moving so that she could look Rowan in the eye, Aelin took the deepest plunge imaginable and told him, “I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.”

The smile he gave her was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. “I love you, too, Aelin.” Reaching down to kiss her, all of Aelin's doubts melted away. When he pulled back, Rowan said softly, “If you wish to ask, I'll say yes. Because I see a future with you too. You're the one for me.”

“Rowan, can I move in with you?”

He kissed her again. “Yes, you can.”

Aelin's cheeks were started to become sore from all her smiling. Maybe it was a good thing after all that she ended up living here.

Hours later, after another bad movie and celebrating the new milestone in their relationship (which was mainly Aelin laughing as she rode Rowan because he kept forgetting about his injured hand), Aelin and Rowan got ready for bed, and as Aelin rested her head on his chest again, she said, “Just to let you know, I'm going to replace your mattress for mine, because yours is hard as stone.”

“That's exactly why I'm letting you move in, I'm in the market for a new mattress.��

Aelin playfully whacked his chest and muttered what a buzzard he was, but soon fell asleep with a smile on her face, ready for her future with Rowan.

[ladyeliot]

Fragile [1/3]

Part Two

Based on The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who would have thought that fate would bring you face to face with your father's killer? 13 years old, an orphan girl who was taken under the protection of the United States, who was educated to serve the nation and who was now assigned by the CIA to guard what was once one of the most dangerous men in the world.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, psychological problems, violence.

Word count: 2463

A/N: Post Endgame. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

You are waiting for a plane, a plane that will take you far away. You know where you want to go, where you need to go, but you really have no idea where that plane will take you. But it doesn't really matter now, nothing matters because you've lost everything, you have nothing left. Whatever fate throws at you you are willing to accept it, after all you leave nothing behind. That's what you told yourself when in 2009, at the age of thirteen, you boarded that plane that took you out of Iran, when your nuclear engineer father was brutally murdered by someone you could never put a name or a face to. It was not until much later that you discovered the truth of that moment that marked your life forever.

Call it fate, call it chance, but that plane paved your future path. Your destination was the United States, specifically the city of Washington. At the age of 13, when you were a minor, you were detained by the government, assigned to a foster family, preparing you for your future, which already seemed to be written. At 18, the CIA had your position waiting for you, you had been educated and trained for the job, you never had a different opportunity in front of you, but you didn't really want it either.

Your first years within the Central Intelligence Agency you had to learn and live with all the events that that group, called the Avengers, dropped on the nation and the whole world. However, you were not a part of it until it was all over, for like the vast majority of humanity your body vanished from the face of the earth and did not return until years later. That's when it all began. When your superior assigned you a case, his case, to be the shadow of James Buchanaham Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier, who was going to rejoin society after being pardoned by the government. You didn't know what that meant, what that entailed.

Your move to New York was sudden, the neighbourhood the man had selected to live in was in Sunset Park, a New York borough of Brooklyn, one of the best known ethnic Chinese enclaves. It was really nice, but the building was far less comfortable than the neighbourhood. When you arrived with barely any hot water, you figured that assuming the building looked like it might collapse at the drop of a hat, the plumbing would be no less so. But at least your CIA team had been able to provide you with comfortable furniture and the necessary equipment to do your job.

You had a plan, the plan, you had been analysing Bucky Barnes, his exits from the building, the places he frequented, which were pretty scarce apart from the therapy sessions and the restaurant across the street, and his social relations, which were even scarcer, however he had forged a small friendship with a neighbour in the same building, Yori Nakajima originally from Japan. You didn't have to work out your first meeting, any self-respecting neighbour would help a newcomer to the building during the move.

A dozen cardboard boxes were scattered around the hall of the building, you looked at them with a thoughtful gesture while biting your nails waiting for your dear neighbour to arrive from the laundry next door. You had kept track of the time, and just as you predicted, he came in through the front door with a basket of clean clothes. You continued to look at the boxes, took a breath and exaggerated your gesture of concern, just as he focused his gaze on you.

"Do you need help?" he asked, putting down the laundry basket and approaching you.

You turned your face, still biting your nails, but pretended to be surprised to find him there.

"Oh, don't worry, I only just realised that this building is so green it barely has a lift," you said with a smile, causing Bucky to grin.

"Yes, we like to do our bit for the environment," he said, putting his hand behind his head and then offering it to you in greeting. "Bucky."

"Susan," you smiled and shook his hand, then returned your gaze to the stacked boxes. Evidently that wasn't your real name, it was the name of the person you had invented yourself.

"Come on, let me help you," abandoning his laundry basket he approached your belongings and with barely a reproach he picked up two stacked boxes.

"Oh, God, don't you think you should...?" you began worriedly as you looked at the weight he had taken into his arms.

"Don't worry," he added. "Do you think you could take my clothes?"

That was how it all began. Maybe it could have started some other way, perhaps a chance encounter at the laundromat next door, or when you came out of your government-assigned therapy, or maybe a night at the Japanese restaurant, but no, it was that way. You had no idea how things were going to develop, you had no idea why you were assigned to the case, you were so innocent that you thought it was because of your positive attitude, your willingness to do something relevant, but there was too much hidden behind it that you had hardly a clue. You and that young man were connected, a blood-soaked red thread linked you, but it wasn't until some time later that you discovered it.

Before you knew it, the boxes had gone from being stacked in the hall of the building to being in your small living room. You barely had to feign the surprise you felt as the young man had climbed all four floors in record time.

"OK, who are you? You don't work for a moving company do you?" you laughed and headed towards the small kitchen that was connected to the living room. "If so leave me your card because you'll be the one I call."

"No, not really," he put his hand behind his neck and looked away, he seemed nervous as you tried to start a conversation with him.

"A beer? It's the least I can do," you said, opening the fridge. "Well, and it's the only thing I have apparently."

"Better another time," he commented looking at the basket of clean clothes you had left in the middle of your living room and approaching it to pick it up.

It was at that moment that you noticed the black leather gloves covering his hands, you guessed the fact, surely they were to cover his left hand which complemented his vibranium arm.

"Oh, of course," you closed the fridge the same way you had opened it and leaned against the kitchen island to watch him in the middle of the room with the laundry basket offering you an awkward smile. "Then it only remains for me to thank you again."

"It's been a pleasure," he said without moving from the spot, which made you bite your lip smiling at his awkwardness. "Uh... welcome."

"Thank you," you added, watching him clumsily walk out the door and close it behind him.

The image of Bucky Barnes you had formed in your mind collapsed as soon as you met him. Everything you had seen, read, heard about the man had nothing to do with what you found that morning. Who was this person and what had he done with the Winter Soldier? As soon as you closed the door you opened the box marked 'FRAGILE' and extracted all the archival material that the CIA had compiled for you, and opening your laptop you began to generate your first report on Bucky Barnes, totally contrary to what you had expected to do.

The following days you took it upon yourself to generate spontaneous encounters in the most common places the two of you might frequent. The laundromat or the supermarket were the best selected, you discovered that his lifestyle could be that of any ordinary New Yorker, there was nothing strange, nothing out of the ordinary. You had explained to him the story you had created for Susan, a young immigrant girl who had been adopted at the age of 5 by an American family and had left her small town in the state of Ohio to come to New York looking to live the New York dream. Bucky didn't really talk much, but he was a really good listener. He tended to be quite expressive with his face and as we met, it wasn't so often that he looked away from you, only when you stared at him, which was quite common as his blue eyes tended to evade you too much.

Two months later you received the desired psychological analysis that the therapist had been working on during her sessions with Bucky. Throughout your years of life you had been trained not to engage in any kind of emotional relationship with the cases you were assigned at the CIA, you didn't realise it at first, but it was too big for you. When you opened the envelope, sat down on the couch and began to read each of the reports you felt it, a slight sigh propitiated what was happening, you had felt compassion for him. But who couldn't feel compassion reading that? Session after session, talking about the numerous nightmares that kept him awake, endless lists of his victims he had killed, the tortures HYDRA put him through... it all made your insides churn.

You dropped the papers on the table and thoughtfully paced around the room biting your nails. You had been longing for a case like this for a long time, you had practically begged for it, and now that you were inside it you didn't know if you would be able to face it with a cool head. It was a difficult two weeks, where every conversation with Bucky provoked associations with what you read in the therapist's reports and that made you think too much about what you were doing.

But something happened, one Saturday like any other, your doorbell rang while you were preparing a report to send to your superior, you closed everything running and approached the entrance. As you opened the door the figure of Bucky stood in front of you, while behind him loomed the small body of Yori Nakajima.

"Hey..."

"Come on we don't have all day!" exclaimed Yori tapping Bucky's back with his particular cane.

"I'm coming..." chided Bucky turning his face towards his friend and neighbour.

"Come on!" exclaimed Yori again.

The situation was quite peculiar even for you, who were used to encountering all sorts of situations in your work. Your eyebrows were arched as you leaned against the doorframe waiting for what Bucky was supposed to say. Your two neighbours made a comical but endearing pair. Bucky seemed hesitant to speak, being rather nervous as he fiddled with his gloves, so Yori tapped him again with the cane to push him aside.

"What he wants to tell you is to go on a date with him," Yori said bluntly, to which Bucky exasperatedly sighed and put his hand to his face.

"A date?" you asked arching your eyebrows even more and blinking rapidly.

"Well, it's not exactly that..." began Bucky but again he received another blow from Yori's cane, "Hey! Stop it," he refocused his blue eyes on yours. "I'm sorry..."

"For what, needing help asking me out on a date?" you asked smiling slightly, causing him to do so as well. "Had you come up with any concrete plans or did Yori have to find it for you?"

Your question caused Yori to laugh and leave the place alluding that his work had already been done. You continued to watch Bucky with your arms crossed as you slumped against the door frame. The whole situation was getting too out of hand without you even realising it. You lied to yourself that it could be good for your mission, but none of it was good. At that moment you were just a young girl getting carried away, being asked out on a date by a guy you found really attractive.

"Maybe... tomorrow at eight o'clock? If not..." she asked, putting her hand behind her neck, causing her white t-shirt to ride up and reveal part of her naked lower body.

"Why tomorrow? Why not tonight?" you asked showing complete confidence in your voice.

"Or... sure, tonight," she rectified, nodding.

"All right," you said, smiling, and closed the door, leaving Bucky standing there.

In the back of your mind you were trying to convince yourself that this would be helpful to the investigation, that what the CIA really wanted was for you to maintain contact with him, that he was under your control, that he wouldn't do anything that the government would regret offering a pardon for, and apparently he was. What you didn't know is that it was you who was falling under his control.

Your love life is not what you could call it, you were not someone of long realizations, someone who opened her heart easily, you had never really opened it to anyone, apparently at the age of 13 your heart was broken and of that loving and shy girl there was hardly anything left. Relationships, yes, you had had them, but they were based only on physical contact, no feelings, no emotions, only physical contact. You were stubborn, obstinate and sometimes a little presumptuous, a trump card you played with Bucky, but the innocence was still inside you even if you could hardly notice it.

But believe it or not, those months you were spending in that practically ruined building in the middle of that Brooklyn neighbourhood were changing the course of your destiny, they were connecting you with the loving girl you had once been. Something inside you prevented you from writing reports providing the information the CIA was asking for, it seemed really absurd, but for the last two weeks you had offered details of the conversations you had with Bucky, you were just giving ordinary data, useless to the government, who expected you to relay everything the former Winter Soldier said or did. You would never have thought that anything, or anyone, would have limited your ability to tackle an investigation, but there it was, Bucky had done it in just a few months. You felt so empty, it was easy to connect with someone as empty as you, him.

To be continue...

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[ahatintimepieces]

Fabric Hearts

Remember the first part of that build-a-bear au I wrote for @smieska-draws? It’s back! But now the au name makes sense! Imagine!

Luka, known as the Snatcher to most of the mall locals, runs the Kraft-a-Kid while his daughter, Hattie, runs around with her friends. There’s definitely nothing suspicious about Luka. The rumors that he snatches the souls of children and stuffs them into the dolls are completely unfounded. Probably. Most likely. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s fine.

This is, of course, another au that Smieska and I both developed and like to swap ideas for SO send her your love and adulation because I couldn’t have written this without her ;o; <333 Here’s the link to the piece she did for first part if you haven’t seen it yet (which u should because it’s fabulous and incredible). Without further ado, here it is!

Words: 4,131

The door squeaked open as Luka recorded the number of tiny, elastic collars with bright bells in the back.

“Dimitri can’t make it today,” he warned without looking up from his clipboard. His golden gaze flickered up towards the boxes filled with cotton stuffing and he quickly counted them as footsteps approached. “If you get a sudden influx of customers, come grab me.”

“It’s me, Dad,” Hattie’s voice came from right beside him.

“Did I stutter?” He glanced down without missing a beat. She gave him a deadpan stare as he grinned. His sharp canines glinted in the unnaturally bright florescent lights. “Come on, kiddo. How about you help me with my business endeavors instead of frittering away your summer romping around the mall?”

She readjusted the brim of the top hat she made from her millinery lessons at the fabric store. Why his child fixated on hat-making out of everything she could have taken an interest in was beyond him but even he had to admit her royal purple top hat was well crafted.

“I’m going with Belle and the others to get lunch at the food court,” she said, ignoring his jesting. “Can I have money?”

“You know if you had a job you wouldn’t need to be asking me,” he lamented dramatically before wedging the clipboard between his arm and side. He reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his slacks.

“I’m not even twelve.” She blinked up at him with large blue eyes. “There are child labor laws.”

“Excellent.” He nodded, opening his wallet. “Don’t let anyone in the mall convince you otherwise. But,” he slipped out a bill and gave her a pointed look, “if you accept this, you have to do me a favor.”

“I already cleaned the bathrooms last weekend,” she whined.

His grin widened.

“Tough luck, kiddo.” He twisted the bill in the air, watching her nose scrunch as she seriously weighed her options. After a second of letting her think that she was going to have to do her least favorite chore, he extended the bill towards her. “Just bring me back a coffee and I’ll consider us even.”

Relief instantly flooded her features as she took the bill.

“I can do that! Your usual?” She headed towards the door.

“That’ll work,” he said, tucking away his wallet and grabbing the clipboard again.

“Thanks, Dad!” she chirped before moving to open the door.

Just as she reached for it, the door swung open, and she stumbled back. Luka immediately dropped the clipboard and slipped behind her with the speed of shadows dodging the light. She smacked into his legs, and he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder as Alex walked in with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry, kid! I didn’t see you there.” Alex winced, looking from Hattie to Luka’s hard glare.

“I’m fine!” Hattie promised, giving a bright smile until she placed her hand over Luka’s fingers. She jolted and twisted around. “Dad, are you okay? You’re really warm.”

“It is hot in here.” Alex tugged at their collar, wincing.

“The thermostat dial was probably nudged,” Luka dismissed, pulling away and stooping to grab the clipboard. “I’ll take a look.”

“Should I get you water?” Hattie asked.

“I have water. Now go have fun.” He shooed her towards the door. “The sooner you leave the sooner you can run my errand.”

Hattie hesitated but when he returned to his task of recording inventory, he heard her retreating footsteps.

“Sorry,” Alex muttered as they crossed over to the table for the employees. They dropped their backpack before grabbing the light purple apron with their nametag.

“Let’s just be careful with how forcefully we open doors, hm? I don’t want to deal with any workplace liability cases. They’re a pain.” Luka shot the teen a toothy grin. Glancing back down to the clipboard, he added in a more monotone cadence, “Anyway, Dimitri can’t come today, so once Ember leaves, it’ll just be you and me for the rest of the day. If it gets too crowded on the floor and I’m not around, come find me.”

“Right.” They nodded firmly. While wiping back their bangs and smearing the beads of sweat on their brow, they hurried out. Once the door closed behind them and Luka was alone, he let out a sigh.

The flame that had flared when Hattie nearly got hit crackled noisily in his otherwise empty chest. Luka placed one of his pale hands over the flame and counted out the seconds between metered inhales and exhales. The snap and pop of embers faded and when he glanced towards the thermostat, the temperature in the room lowered back to a comfortable range.

Not that he was bothered by the heat, but he didn’t need his employees passing out.

Ember’s shift ended as he got to counting the unstuffed plush shells. As she hung her apron over the hook, she informed him that two separate groups had just entered the store. Luka nodded, finishing his current count before getting ready to help Alex on the floor.

He brushed back his long, spiky hair into a ponytail. Stray strands the color of soot fluttered against his cheek, and he tucked them behind his ear.

They reflected a warm violet when they caught the light.

With his hair as contained as he could manage, he grabbed his own amethyst apron with the Kraft-a-Kid’s signature logo; a stylized baby goat and parent goat waving a friendly greeting. After draping it over his black suit and making sure it didn’t displace his dark purple tie, he tied the apron with nimble fingers, clawed at the tips. He double-checked that the pocket had extra thread and a compact sewing kit before he clipped on his name tag and headed out into the workshop.

Alex snapped their head up from one of the stuffing stations, looking relieved when they spotted Luka rounding the counter. Alex returned their full attention to the small girl and her mother while Luka smiled at the two teens with a younger child hovering by the bins of unstuffed shells by the entrance.

While he didn’t know them personally, he recognized Brooke and her younger sister Hali, who worked (or in Hali’s case just hovered around in the back when not at daycare) at their uncle’s travel agency, and then Makoto, who worked at the jewelry store. Judging from their uniforms, the teens were probably using their breaks to accompany Hali. Since he often heard good things about their work ethic and Hali’s sweet nature from Mari, he assumed he had an easy session ahead. He waved them over.

Brooke and Makoto shared a nervous look while Hali bounded over with a bright smile.

“Why, hello there!” Luka pasted on his most vibrant customer service smile as he lowered onto the seat by the stuffing station. Cotton and soft fibers filled the glass tank decorated to look like hearty trees and branches climbed around the edges. The machine itself matched the lilac walls and brown and bronze gears that decorated them. The bins and shelves that held the merchandise throughout the store were all structured to look like spools of golden thread.

Holding an unstuffed goat with dark brown fuzz and silver horns, Hali shyly smiled up at Luka as Brooke and Makoto slowly joined.

“I see you’ve picked your new friend!” Luka held out his hands and Hali gingerly lowered the flat goat into his palms. “Before we bring them to life, how stuffed do you want them to be?”

“Um?” Hali tilted her head with a blank expression.

“Do you want them to be firm or squishy?” Luka clarified, fitting the goat around the nozzle and getting his foot ready over the pedal.

“Fiwm, pwease!” Hali declared in a cutesy voice.

“Excellent choice!” Luka set to work, pumping the pedal as he filled out the head of the goat plush. The machine roared to life, blowing air and fluff with the force of a vacuum. Though, his ears perked when he caught Brooke and Makoto in an intense discussion as they remained a couple steps back. What he couldn’t hear over the machine, he pieced together easily enough.

He knew the rumors and could guess what was on their mind when they mentioned the Snatcher and stolen souls.

Luka smirked as he pulled his foot from the pedal and the machine hushed.

“Now it’s time for my favorite part.” He beamed, pulling off the firmly stuffed goat and then reaching for a bucket full of small felt hearts. “The soul ceremony! Go ahead and pick the heart that most resonates with you.”

“If it’s just a heart, why is it called a soul ceremony?” Brooke asked, her voice quivering as she pressed closer to Makoto.

Hali, meanwhile, was completely enraptured with picking out the right fabric heart.

“Hearts, souls, same thing, really,” Luka soothed with a toothy grin, giving the teens a considering look.

Makoto’s gaze flickered down to his fangs. She lifted her chin, trying to project an air of confidence. But her furrowed brows wavered.

“Souws awe heawts?” Hali gasped, looking up with awe.

“Absolutely!” Luka kept his voice cheerful, gesturing to the bucket. “It’s what gives your new friend life! I imagine without one, they would feel pretty empty and hollow.” Keeping his chin tilted down, he lifted his eyes towards the teens and lowered his voice just a touch. “Wouldn’t you feel pretty soulless without a heart?”

The two stiffened.

“Pwobabwy!” Hali chirped, completely unaware of their increasing unease. She dug around the hearts and pursed her lips. “How do woo know which heawt is the best?”

“That’s up to you!” Luka bounced effortlessly back into an upbeat cadence. He pinched a heart with a checkerboard pattern in red and white. “The nice thing about these hearts is that they’re blank slates. They’ll be filled with whatever you put into them. But don’t put in too much!” he added with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t want your new friend to be more you than you!”

Brooke squeaked in fright and his grin stretched.

“I wiwl take this one, then!” Hali held up a solid red heart.

“Great! Hold on to it, now.” Luka placed the tub back down. “First, why don’t you rub the heart on your hair so your little buddy will always have soft fur!”

Hali beamed at that and rubbed the fabric heart on her hair. When she pulled it back down, some of the blond strands followed the heart while the strands too far away stuck up from the lingering static.

“Well done! Now, rub it against your funny bone so your friend has a sense of humor.” Luka tapped his elbow when Hali crinkled her nose for a moment. Her eyes lit up in understanding and once the heart was granted good humor, Luka added, “and why don’t you strike a superhero pose, so that your pal will hold courage.”

Hali giggled as she placed her hands on her hips and preened.

“Fantastic. Lastly, I want you to rub the heart between your palms!” Luka motioned for her to mimic him as he demonstrated. “Now, when it’s nice and warm, give it a clap to start its heartbeat!”

The clap resounded through the workshop and the teens jolted behind her.

“That should do it,” Luka praised, holding out his palm. Hali handed the heart over, and he slipped it into the goat, tucking it snuggly away in the cotton and fluff.

He then set to filling out the rest of the plush. Once it was stiff and sturdy, he handed it to her, asking if she was content with it. When he received an enthusiastic nod, he took it back and sealed the hole. He snipped the extra thread with the scissors in his apron and then passed the goat back to Hali.

“Here’s your new friend! Be sure to visit our shop in the back! We have plenty of accessories and outfits for the newest member of your family,” Luka recited the same sales pitch as always. “Once you’re ready, head over to an open kiosk so you can fill out the adoption papers. If you need any help, Alex or I will be overjoyed to assist.”

“Thank woo!” Hali hurried over to the accessories, hugging the goat to her chest.

Luka clasped his hands and turned to the teens. When his gaze flickered to the floppy hooded doll in Makoto’s arms, her embrace tightened.

“Ready?” He motioned for her to hand it over so that he could stuff it.

She looked to Brooke, who shrugged with uncertainty. Makoto stepped forward.  

Keeping his tone light, he went through the same script as always. He asked if she wanted the doll to be firm or squishy and, in an effort to loosen her up a bit, offered to add any fun sound boxes or scents to the plush. She remained on edge until he asked about the nametag on her uniform as the machine roared to life again. She explained how her boss liked to give everyone themed nicknames and she was saddled with “Makoneko.” When he asked if she appreciated the nickname, she pointedly rolled her eyes as he removed his foot from the machine pedal again. Her shoulders relaxed when he chuckled.

“Your turn to pick a heart,” Luka twittered in an overly cheerful voice as he held out the bucket.

“Do I have to do the ceremony?” Makoto hesitated, plucking the first heart she saw. Rather than scared, her bored expression mirrored that of many teens who wanted to skip the step.

Perfect.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He shrugged casually. “What is a heart without a heartbeat? A soul without a person behind the personality?”

“What?” She faltered, shoulders slowly stiffening again as Brooke’s eyes widened.

“I only mean it’ll be a sorry existence for this little friend.” Luka waved the stubby hands of the purple plush toy. “And you get out what you put in.” Her brows dipped in slight confusion, and he smirked. “You have to at least start its heartbeat. You don’t want to bring a ghost home, do you?”  

“Just do the ceremony!” Brooke hissed through clenched teeth.

“F-fine,” Makoto said, slowly lifting the heart to her long black locks. “So, hair for soft fur?”

“Does it look like this one has fur?” Luka gestured to the doll with the yellow spiral in its hood. He scoffed, turning up his nose. “Of course not! No. First, why don’t you rub the heart against your belly so that it’s full of laughter.”

“I thought that was the elbow.” Makoto crinkled her nose. Though she rubbed the heart against her stomach, eager to get it over with.

“There is a difference between telling good jokes and laughing at them, kiddo,” Luka offered with a smirk. “Now, how about you jump up and down a few times? I’m sure your friend would love to share some of your energy.”

“What does that mean?” She jolted.

“Just that exercise keeps the heart healthy,” Luka said placidly.

Her eyes narrowed but she eventually gave a sluggish skip.  

“Then, rub it against your ear, so it will always listen.” He smiled brightly, being sure to bare his teeth. Once she complied, he clasped his hands together. “I’m sure you know what to do now! Warm it between your palms and then clap to start the heartbeat!”

She let out the breath that she had been holding, relieved it was finally over. She gave a small clap before passing the heart back. He slipped it into the doll.

“Any names in mind for your friend?” Luka prompted as his foot tapped the pedal.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled curtly, purposefully trying to let the whirling air in the stuffing machine drown out her answer.

“How’s this feel?” he asked a few seconds later when the machine hushed again. He pulled the doll from the nozzle and passed it back to her.

“Good.” She returned it after assessing the squishiness.

“If you haven’t got any names, I always thought these particular dolls looked like minions,” he prattled, closing the seam. When she didn’t respond, he continued lightly, “so Minion might be a good name.” He glanced up to meet her gaze and lowered his tone. “You did make sure it’ll listen. It’ll be an obedient little kiddo.”

Her breath hitched.

“Obedient to who?” she challenged, maintaining a fragile glare.

“All done!” Luka snapped upright after snipping the excess thread, pretending he hadn’t heard her question. “Welcome your friend into the world!”

Makoto accepted the doll, her gaze flickering between it and Luka with uncertainty.

“Same as always,” he droned in his peppy, customer service voice. “Browse to your contentment. My daughter recommends the plush purple cherries. You want to keep your buddy happy and fed! Make sure to finalize the adoption and meet Alex or I by the counter.” He glanced over to find the other young girl with her mother already at the cash register. “Looks like it’ll be Alex!”

Makoto nodded numbly as Brooke stepped forward and looped her arm through hers, rescuing Makoto by tugging her away.

“One more thing,” Luka began, keeping his eyes on his clean-up routine. The teens’ footsteps paused as they hovered. Though his smile laced his voice, his enunciation was sharp. “I’m sure the Snatcher doesn’t have to tell you but be sure to treat your new friend as you would yourself. You put your soul into bringing them to life, after all.”

The teens gasped.

“Have a good day, kids.” Laughter laced his voice.

They rushed away as he chuckled.

While he finished cleaning up, Hattie returned with her friends. As soon as she spotted him behind the stuffing machine, she rushed across the tiles decorated to look vaguely like a forest path.

“Here’s your coffee,” she chirped, holding up the cup.

“Any plans for the rest of the day?” he asked, pushing to his feet and picking stray fluff from his apron. Once he was as clean as he was going to get, he accepted the drink. He held it towards his lips, pausing to quirk a brow at young Muriel and Timmy as they passed the stuffing machines to check out all the colorful outfits. Belle, meanwhile, joined Hattie with her azure bow bouncing in her dark coils.

“We’re going to head to the bookstore.” Hattie shrugged. “Tim’s friend is hosting a card game tournament.”

“Remember to be back by six,” he instructed. “Don’t go snacking after four or you’ll spoil your dinner.”

“I know, Dad,” she huffed dramatically.

“Also, Mom says hi, Mr. Kingsley,” Belle pipped in.

“Tell Mari I return the sentiment. Now get your friends to stop loitering.” He turned back towards Hattie and rose his voice so Timmy and Mu could hear. “They scare away customers.”

“Says the Snatcher,” Timmy whispered to Mu.

Luka covered his smirk with the coffee cup. His gaze shifted over Hattie and Belle and he watched as Makoto and Brooke fled the store at a brisk pace. Hali struggled to keep up, but she managed to meet his eyes and offered a cheerful wave.

“Fine,” Hattie sighed. “Come on, guys!”

“I need to stop by Mom’s before we head to the bookstore,” Belle mentioned as she and Hattie turned to leave. “I left my cards with my backpack.”

As the girls left, Luka turned to head back towards the counter, taking a sip of his coffee. He immediately winced.

“Ugh, tepid,” he grumbled as Timmy and Mu ran past, hurrying out to follow Hattie and Belle.

After making sure the kids all had their backs turned and Alex was busy with something on the counter, Luka summoned a gentle ember to his hand. While the flame harmlessly licked the cup, the coffee warmed inside until steam wafted from the hole in the lid. He took a tentative sip and swallowed the scalding liquid.

The flames in his chest crackled and popped, and the knots in his shoulders eased.

He snuffed out the ember in his hand as he lowered the cup. Mist trailed from the lid as the coffee maintained its heat.

“I think you scarred those two for life,” Alex muttered as Luka returned to the counter.

“Which two?” he asked, mind still on Hattie and her friends.

“Brooke and Makoto.” Alex glanced up, shaking their head with a scolding expression.

“I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary,” Luka said calmly. He leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee during his momentary break. “If those hooligans are letting their imaginations run wild, it’s not on my conscience.”

“Uh-huh.” Alex gave him an unimpressed look. “Also, I think we’re running low on the beach ball accessories.”

“I noticed,” Luka muttered, swirling his cup pensively. “Those aren’t particularly popular, and we are getting near the end of the season…”

While they discussed whether they needed to send out an order or if they would make it until the fall selection came out, Hattie rolled on the balls of her feet as she, Timmy, and Mu waited for Belle to return from her mom’s flower shop just across from Kraft-a-Kid. Hattie idly watched all the mallgoers, thoughts blank, but Timmy and Mu had their eyes locked on Kraft-a-Kid, thoughts whirling noisier than the stuffing machines.

“Okay, I’m ready!” Belle announced as she bounced out with her deck of cards.

“Hattie.” Timmy whirled around. “Your dad’s magic!”

“Timmy, he doesn’t steal souls, we’ve been over this,” Hattie whined, crossing her arms.

“If he doesn’t steal souls, then what’s with his coffee?” Mu snapped, nodding her head towards the display window where Luka could be seen leaning against the counter inside the workshop.

Hattie squinted, trying to figure out what was out of place with the steaming coffee cup. After a moment, she turned to Belle, who shrugged.

“It’s hot!” Mu gestured wildly, causing her blond mustache to bob with her movement. “Look at that steam!”

Hattie blinked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Belle supplied dryly. “Because Hattie ordered it hot.”

“But he said it was tepid!” Timmy argued. “We heard him!”

“He probably thinks it is,” Hattie said, knitting her brows together. “He likes his coffee hot enough to burn his tastebuds.”

“You aren’t getting it!” Mu huffed. “It wasn’t steaming when he said it was cold!”

“Okay, but even if he somehow heated it up, that didn’t have anything to do with stealing souls,” Belle appeased.

“That’s what we mean!” Timmy urged. “If he can use one type of magic, he can use others!”

“I regret the day I told you about those rumors,” Hattie grumbled.

It didn’t matter as much when strangers said it, but instead of laughing with Hattie when she told them that people thought her dad was some kind of heartless, soul-snatching monster, Mu and Timmy had latched onto the conspiracy and ever since refused to let go. She couldn’t talk about new product plushies or designs around them anymore because they would just start a debate about which shell would best hold the souls of children.

“Look can we just get going?” She started walking in the direction of the bookstore and Belle matched her pace. Mu hurried to catch up as Timmy trailed behind, keeping a watchful eye on Kraft-a-Kid.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen anything weird?” Mu insisted. “Heard any screams of children he caught? Seen any dolls move in the corner of your eye?”

“You know he laughs like a cartoon villain?” Timmy added.

“The store is literally called Kraft-a-Kid!” Mu continued. “Open your eyes, Hattie!”

“Kid is just another word for baby goat!” Belle argued. “It’s cute!”

“We aren’t talking about this anymore!” Hattie snapped, tugging down on the brim of her hat. She turned away from them and focused on Belle. “So, what deck are you using? The one with fairy types? Or your cat themed one?”

“Both!” She grinned mischievously as she happily helped to redirect the conversation. “I combined them because I wanted to use all my favorites. How about you?”

“Going with the forest deck.” Hattie glanced up, where her deck was safely tucked away in the hidden compartment she stitched into the top hat.

Timmy and Mu huffed, letting their argument go as they pipped in with talking about their own decks. But it was only a matter of time before they started back on their theories about her dad’s supposed magic. Trying not to deflate too much, she kept her eyes forward. She swallowed her frustration and focused on the upcoming tournament.

Besides, even if her dad did have magic and only used it for heating up coffee, it hardly seemed something a heartless monster would do.

Right?

[lubdubsworld]

Better Man. ( Taehyung x OC)

Chapter 1    Chapter 2

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.

Chapter 3 ~ The problem with marriage is this  : it isn’t worth the pain of divorce. 

Denial isn’t healthy.

 But sometimes it helps you stay sane , at least long enough to get your act together. When you’re in denial, you kind of keep yourself together a bit. You process things a bit more slowly. Take your time examining the facts. 

It helps you make a delayed but possibly more informed decision.

 Impulsive decisions never end well.

 So it’s good to stew in denial for a while ( a short while) and then slowly begin processing what happened, think about it, think how its gonna affect you and then make a choice. 

Unfortunately for Taehyung and I... I wasn’t in denial. 

Maybe I should have been.

 The time between Taehyung turning up drunk and the me leaving the house was less than twelve hours. Taehyung showed up drunk and I just told him I was leaving. That we needed a break and I didn’t know when I’d be back. 

Terrible choice.

 In the first twelve hours, the hurt is so potent and strong , the wound so raw and fresh that you can’t think beyond the pain . Your instinct is to repay the pain, to retaliate and make the other party feel exactly what you’re feeling. So you think of the thing that would hurt them the most and you go ahead and do it. 

Like move out of your shared home of eight years, take away the son he adored and possibly rip the ground right out from under his feet. 

And then after the first twelve hours, reason begins to catch up. 

I had wanted to go back. 

I had wanted to go back to him but I was scared. 

Scared that I was being weak.

 That if I didn’t stick to the choice I made, Taehyung would forever see me as a pushover. That he would take it as some sick permission to do it all over again. That he’d just think I was too weak to walk out on him. 

And i couldn’t have that. I couldn’t have him hurting me and not facing the consequences of it. I just couldn’t.

So I stayed away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I worked on the seventh floor of a high rise in Gangnam, probably a twenty minute drive from Taehyung’s agency. It was an electronic/ tech company that dealt with everything from mobile phones to home fittings . As the  assistant director of Marketing I dealt with branding and keeping up the image of the company. Annual budgets, endorsements, campaigns and what not. 

I was good at it and i enjoyed it . everyone agreed that i did a good job because the numbers spoke for themselves. But I think the main reason I got the job was because I was married to the biggest brand ambassador in the country. 

“ I need the reports on consumer trends for this month and I want to meet with Social media team before lunch. There’s a drop in our web traffic and that needs to be fixed.” I told my assistant, accepting the hot coffee and muffin that he held in his hand before moving to the corner office, my strides faltering just a bit when i noticed that  someone  was already inside. The figure had his back to me but I could vaguely recognize the broad shoulders and muscular arms. 

“Mr. Jeon’s been waiting for about ten minutes now.” Mingyu said with a smile and I nodded. 

“That’s fine , I’ll handle him.” I waved my assistant off and moved to the  door, unlocking it and stepping in. 

“Morning, Jang Mi.” He smiled, eyes flashing with ill concealed delight and I inhaled to calm myself down. . 

I could already feel a headache coming on. 

“Jungkook.” I said curtly. “ To what do I owe this very early visit?”  I glanced at my table finally taking the bottle of champagne in the small ice bucket. 

“Thought we’d celebrate you finally being free.” He grinned. 

Jeon Jungkook was handsome, intelligent , and annoyingly good at everything he did.

At 34,  He was one of the youngest CFO’s in the industry, and everything he touched turned to gold. I didn’t report to him and he had zero reasons to be in my office at any given time. But , unfortunately he had never gotten that particular memo. 

“I’m not in the mood, Jungkook.” I sighed, moving to the back of my desk and dropping my bag on the small ottoman on the side and my keys in the desk. I plugged my phone into the cable on the side and then went to open the blinds. 

“Come on... You know how sick I’ve been of two years of  hearing ‘ I’m sorry, I’m married.’ .... you’re gonna have to come up with  a better excuse the next time i ask you out.” 

“No. No is a whole entire sentence that you should be able to accept.” I said evenly, fixing the cushions on the couch only to have him plop down on them immediately after. 

“One date. Dinner anywhere you like. i can fly you to Paris if you want.... Macua? Jeju Do? Tell me what you want and I’ll get it done. ?” 

i stared at him. 

“I want you to fire Kang Yeseul from the Social Media team.” I said with a shrug. 

He frowned. 

“The new girl? Why?” 

“She’s been posting nudes that she took in my office when I was on leave last week. My name plate is literally visible.”

“Jesus fuck...these bitches get dumber by the minute.”

I couldn’t even deny it.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said swiftly. “ Anything else?”

“Web traffics gone down and I’m gonna find out why. It’s probably time for us to work out the budget for the Christmas Carnival. I think we should go for something new this time. If you can set up a meeting with all the department heads we can brainstorm a few ideas...” 

“I can’t forget about that night.” 

I froze. 

God. 

i turned around to stare at him as he lounged on the couch. If Kim Taehyung was the most handsome man I’d ever seen, Jungkook was definitely the second.

 He was disconcertingly good looking and where Taehyung’s image was always the clean cut gentleman with the perfect character, Jungkook had a reputation as a bit of a delinquent. Simply because he had a penchant for leather jackets and liked to ride around Seoul on his motorbike on days off. 

Which was ironical because in truth, Taehyung was far from a saint and Jungkook was relatively more put together 

He was also a divorcee and a single parent. His daughter Jennie was easily the cutest two year old on the planet.

His wife and him had fifty fifty custody but she had cheated on him with his best friend. Jungkook had no patience for her. They had a very volatile relationship but he was fighting for full custody and rumor was that he would most certainly be granted it, soon. 

A marathon runner ,  he didn’t drink or smoke.  

Jungkook liked to paint and volunteered at an animal shelter once or twice a month because he loved dogs but couldn’t keep one because of his busy schedule. 

So all in all , a pretty solid candidate if I was looking for a guy. 

Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that I was completely and utterly done with relationships for the rest of my life, I would actually give the guy a chance. 

But , it is what it is. 

“That sounds like a  you  problem. “ I shrugged. “ It was supposed to be  one  night  with no strings attached. And by string I meant awkward conversations three months later .” 

Jungkook groaned and sat up straighter, legs spread and shirt sleeves riding up to show a very sparkly watch. Rich men and their vices. I smirked a little. 

“Come on... its just dinner. I want to get to know you, that’s it.” he held his hands up. 

“There’s nothing to know Jungkook. I’m actually more boring than i appear, which is saying something. I’m not going to be the girl in the leather jacket clinging to your waist when you’re joyriding that motorbike of yours through Seoul. That’s not me. I would hate something that” 

He chuckled. 

“Are you sure? You ever tried it?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“That’s not the point.”

“I’ll buy you a jacket. Join me this weekend. We’ll go a ride. Then you can make a decision.” 

I opened my mouth to argue when the phone rang. I grabbed it quickly.

“Hello?” 

“This is Lee Taemin from the Advertising Department.”

“Yes?”

“We have a Mr. Jung from HYBE on the phone. They want to talk to us about a possible candidate for our Christmas Campaign.... “

I blinked, surprised. 

“We haven’t even decided on a theme yet. “

Choosing the right actors to endorse stuff was usually the last step. 

“I know but he’s saying they want to talk about Mr. Kim Taehyung as a possible candidate?”

I felt my entire jaw come unhinged. 

I turned to Jungkook stunned. His eyes widened at the look on my face and he mouthed a ‘ What’ 

“Please tell him I’ll call him back in fifteen minutes.” I said quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook demanded. 

“Taehyung’s manager...he... he wants to make him the face of the Christmas Campaign.” I said dully, mind ringing. I was utterly stupefied. 

Taehyung was the face of Gucci and Versace . He was so far out of our company’s league it wasn’t even funny. 

Jungkook stared at me in disbelief.

“No.” He said quickly.

I gaped at him.

“What?” 

“No... we can’t have that. He’s.. he’s obviously doing this to get back with you...”

I shook my head.

“that can’t be it. He’s the one who gave me a divorce. He’s the one who wanted to end it. “ 

It was the shock of what I’d heard. There was no other explanation for why I said that to Jeon Jungkook. 

Jungkook gave me a look.

“Really? But you wanted one too right?”

“Of course I did.” I lied easily, waving him off. “Anyway that doesn’t matter. We can’t say no to him, Jungkook. Our sales would skyrocket if we get him onboard.” 

Jungkook swore.

“Fuck, you’re right. The Ceo will probably piss himself in excitement. You sure you’ll be okay with it?”

Jungkook looked worried. 

“You forget that Taehyung and I are actually quite good friends.” I said gently. 

He grimaced.

“That's just unnatural. If you can stay friends with an ex it clearly means that either you’re still in love with each other or....”He shrugged. 

“Or what?” 

“Or you never loved each other in the first place.” 

I swallowed the remark hitting a little too close to home for comfort. 

“Schedule that meeting Jungkook. We’ll come up with a campaign theme that would fit Taehyung’s image. I’ll take to Hoseok and Taehyung.” 

“You’re going to call Taehyung?” Jungkook asked casually.

“Hoshi’s with him today. I’ll probably go over to his place after work and talk to him in person.” 

“Lucky bastard. He gets to hurt you and yet  still have you.” Jungkook said bitterly. 

I rolled my eyes.

“He doesn’t have me.”

“Doesn’t he? Why else would you turn down dates with anyone who asks? its one date.. a dinner... If you’re not still hung up on your ex husband why wouldn’t     you just go on one date with-”

I’d really had quite enough of it. I threw my hands up in sheer exasperation. 

“Alright fine.” I yelled, “  I’ll go to dinner with you...can you just stop psycho analyzing my relationship with my husband?” 

Jungkook’s smile told me that I’d been played like a fiddle. 

“excellent. Go see your husband after work and I’ll come pick you up at eight.” 

“What...no wait...”

“I know where he lives. Don’t worry about it. I’ll schedule that meeting and maybe after lunch we can go over the kind of budget you’ll want. Okay?”

I felt a little like I’d stepped into quagmire. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t go see Taehyung after work. 

I didn’t have to. 

An hour before I was due to finish my daily report, he turned up at the office with my son. My assistant let him in and I could only gape at him.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked , completely thrown. 

“Mama I had ice cream with strawberries and sprinkles in a hundred colors.” Hoshi looked excited, eyes shining the way they usually did when he was with Taehyung. 

“That sound incredibly exciting....”

“We missed you mama....can we go again?” He said excitedly.

“I’m sorry honey, Mama’s a little caught up with work...”

“Why don’t we wait?” Taehyung said cheerfully, “ Mama likes blueberry scones so we can get those for her...” 

I stared at him.

“Okay...” I sad carefully, staring him down. What was he doing really?

“Okay... Can I go see the fishies....” Hoshi waved at the large fish tank built into the wall in my office and Taehyung laughed, letting him down.

“Sure bud.. go see how many of the fish you can identify...” He said brightly. 

“ Since when do you pick me up for blueberry scones after work?” I asked briskly and he shrugged.

“Let the kid be happy , Mia. I heard Hobi hyung already spoke to you.”

“What is that all about, Tae?” I said tiredly. 

“All the other offers i got are out of Korea. I want to stay with Hoshi during the Holidays so i thought this way , we could spend some time together..”

“By we, I hope you mean you and Hoshi.” I said drily.

“Of course. I could’ve picked another mall or something but i thought it could be a good thing if we worked at the same place... we can keep Hoshi with us and there wont be all the commuting back and forth nonsense....” 

I nodded. 

“I suppose you’re right. “ I sighed. “But be warned, you’re probably not going to have a very exciting time. 

“I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.” 

I nodded. 

“I won’t tell you how to live your life And I most certainly won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. My Ceo might just give me a huge pay raise for this. He’s been waiting for it since the time he hired me.”

Taehyung gave me a smile.

“I would have done it the minute you asked. You never asked.” 

I shrugged. 

“Like I said, I won’t tell you how to live your life.” 

“Jang Mi?” The knock on the door made us both look up.

Jungkook stood framed in the doorway, jacket off and slung over his arms . He looked bigger than usual, muscles straining against his button down and hair mussed. 

He stepped in casually, holding a hand out to Taehyung.

“The golden boy of Korea. in the flesh. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Kim. I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook” 

The pair of them shook hands and I felt that I would rather be anywhere in the world than there. 

“ Nice to meet you Mr. Jeon.” Taehyung smiled politely. 

“We still on for tonight?” Jungkook asked casually, turning to me with a bright smile. 

This is why i hated men. 

Taehyung’s eyes snapped to me so fast that i was sure he must’ve got whiplash. 

“Sure. I’ll call you.” I said shortly. 

“What’s tonight?” Taehyung smiled, face neutral and smile still in place but his eyes flashed and his voice carried a knife edge to it. 

“Business dinner. We’re going over the budget for the Christmas campaign.” 

“Oh... where?” Taehyung asked with the same smile and I frowned.

“We’ve not decid-”

“I thought I could cook for you. i make a mean steak dinner and I thought I could pick up a bottle of your favorite wine on the way. You have my address right? ” Jungkook smiled. 

Taehyung went still next to me, his entire body taut . 

“A little inappropriate for a business dinner, don’t you think?” he snapped.

Jungkook glared back at him, eyes narrowed. 

“Well, you know what they say about all work and no play-” he began but I’d had enough. 

“I think this conversation needs to end now.” I said loudly. 

They  both shut up but glared at each other.

“I’m gonna make a reservation at the Hyatt for tonight. I’ll meet you there at seven thirty. “ I said, glaring at Jungkook. 

He nodded.

“Pleasure meeting you Kim Taehyung.” He nodded curtly at my ex husband before moving away. 

The silence he left behind was pretty awkward. 

“Bit too much of a douchebag than your usual type.” Taehyung said casually. 

I groaned.

“Don’t start.” 

“ I won’t if you don’t date him.” 

I opened my mouth to argue but then stopped. 

“Lets just get that ice cream ? “ I said tiredly. Hoshi reappeared from the inside room, looking excited and happy and I smiled despite my weariness. 

I could use a little sweetness in my life after a bitterly exhausting day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : Feedback is welcome . Probably going to be a long , terribly angsty fic with a lot of pain for everyone involved. I still haven’t decided who ocs going to end up with so we’ll see... what do you guys think?