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ratmonky · 4 years

Text

Out of Body Experience

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: semi-public

AO3 Link

[You matched with Maru!]

[Send Maru a message!]

Maru: Hey.

(username): hiii!!

Maru: You look cute in your pictures on your profile.

(username): omg you think so?? i’m really happy!! i thought you had a rlly cool bio,,, i guess i did the right choice to like your bio

Maru: Thanks. I was surprised to get a notification that we matched. You’re way out of my league.

(username): don’t say that maruuu~ i bet you look handsome irl

Maru: I don’t.

(username): hmm, wanna prove it?? >.<

Maru: I don’t know.

(username): don’t be shy!! ur bio said you lived in kyoto, wanna meet up this saturday?

Maru: You’ll be disappointed.

(username): i promise i won’t!!! i like meeting new ppl!!! besides if we didn’t click we can still be friends?? i feel like you and i will be close no matter what!!

Maru: Are you sure? We just met.

(username): yep!!! come ooooonnnnn it’ll be fun to hang out!!

Maru: Fine.

(username): yay!!! let’s meet in front of the train station!! ahh i’m so excitedddd i can’t waittt TwT

Maru: Me too.

(username): <3

[Maru: <3………….. (send)]

Kokichi paused and deleted the message.

Maru: See you.

~~~

Kokichi’s first impression of you was that you were naive and careless. You wanted to meet up with him without any hesitation, what if he was someone who could harm you?

He stared at his screen and at your pictures.

You were gorgeous, he had never seen someone as pretty as you. On top of all that you wanted to meet him.

It made him feel special, wanted even.

~~~

When a notification sound filled his ears, Kokichi immediately checked if it was from you.

(username): maruuuuu!!!! i missed u ))):

He stared at the message and read it three times but didn’t quite understand why you would miss him.

Maru: What?

(username): i thought you’d text me but u didn’t,,, i couldn’t sleep cuz i was thinking about u

Maru: I didn’t think you wanted me to text you.

(username): )):

Maru: ?

(username): )))):

Maru: (:

(username): (((((:

Maru: You’re childish aren’t you?

(username): what about it q;

Maru: Nothing. How old are you anyway?

(username): old enough to drinkkkk!!!

Maru: Me too. Which Jujutsu college are you going to?

(username): ohh, hehe… i dropped out cuz it wasn’t my thing

Maru: That’s irresponsible. Did you drop because you couldn’t keep up with your curse classes or was it for some other reason?

(username): maruuuu stop talking about jujutsu with meee!!!

Maru: Then what should we talk about?

(username): about our date >.<

Maru: Date?

(username): did u forget already )):

Maru: Forget what?

(username): our date on saturday )):

Maru: That’s a date?

(username): TwT ur making me sad maru

Maru: I don’t understand it, we just said we’d meet up.

(username): this is a dating website for ppl like us ///:

Maru: You want to date me?

(username): idk anymore,,, seems like ur a heartbreaker and i feel like u don’t feel a connection between us as i do

Maru: Wait! Don’t jump to conclusions all by yourself! You don’t even know what I look like, how can you be so sure that you want to date me?

(username): i mean,,, we matched for a reason,,, i liked ur bio and wanted to get to know u better is that bad??

Maru: No. No, it isn’t. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I'm new to this sort of stuff.

(username): apology accepted!!!! ahhhh ur so cute,,, i can’t wait to meet u

Maru: Same here.

~~~

His classmates knew something was up. Robotic demeanor was gone and instead, it was actually a part of himself as Kokichi that was showing through.

“Mechamaru looks happy nowadays,” Kamo noted.

“It’s relieving that he shows us a softer side of himself,” Miwa added. “Makes me feel happy for him.”

“I wonder what caused him to become this way.” Kamo was talking to himself but Todo took it upon himself to answer.

“He has finally found himself a Takada-chan.” Todo grinned. “Reminds me, I never asked him what his type of woman is.”

There was a moment of silence before Todo walked out into the campus garden to make his way towards Mechamaru.

Mechamaru didn’t notice his presence as he was watering the flowers.

“Yo.”

“Todo. Did you need something?”

“What’s your type of woman?”

Caught off guard, Mechamaru dropped the watering can. “I… I think someone who’s kind and cheerful.” Someone who’s submissive.

“Like I guessed.” Todo held his chin between the knuckle of his forefinger and thumb as he hummed thoughtfully. “You’re as lifeless as your puppet.”

~~~

What did that suppose to mean?

Kokichi was just telling the truth.

Right?

~~~

Days passed until Friday came.

Kokichi talked to you almost every day and whenever he could. He seemed to enjoy your company more than he thought he would when the two of you first matched.

He woke up to your messages and went to sleep only after he texted you goodnight.

Today, he felt like his heart was going to jump out of his ribcage, he could hear his own pulse when it got too quiet and it was dead silent in his hideout… as always.

All he could think about was your date tomorrow. He had made sure to dress up Mechamaru nicely for the occasion and checked the weather report thrice so the date wouldn’t be ruined because of anything out of his control.

There was still something that made him extremely anxious. What if you didn’t like him? What if everything went terribly and you blocked his number?

He needed something to distract him from these negative thoughts.

Maru: Hey.

(username): maruuuu!!!! what r u doin??

Maru: Going to sleep soon, I think.

(username): without me (;

Maru: Never.

(username): i’m blushing

Maru: How are you?

(username): fine, i'm doing skincare tonight to get ready for our date!!

Maru: About that...

(username): ....

(username): are you going to cancel our date?

Maru: No! I’m just anxious about it.

(username): good cuz i’d block u

Maru: I don’t think you would.

(username): you don’t know me

Maru: Because you never told me about yourself.

(username): ^-^; haha yeah,,, so,,, what would you like to know?

Maru: Everything.

Without even noticing the passing time, Kokichi chatted with you until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

He learned everything about you. From the earliest memory, you could recall about your first interaction with a cursed spirit to your latest obsession with an online game about cute animals.

His eyelids were getting heavier, he texted you goodnight and how he was excited to meet you tomorrow.

When he closed his eyes, this time he managed to fall asleep.

~~~

You pressed your phone to your chest and kicked at your sheets. The excitement was eating you up, the butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t calm down either. All because of someone you met online a couple of days ago.

It wasn’t something new to you to meet up with people you met online but this felt a lot different.

Previous times, you had used different dating apps or social media websites to make friends but this was the first time you had used a dating website specifically for people who knew the existence of curses.

Jujutsu sorcerers often found it hard to find someone they could click with because of their field of work but this website had risen up to popularity from day one. Your old classmates from your jujutsu college wouldn’t shut up about it so you gave it a go after their insisting.

Maru was one of the first people you matched with on the website. In his profile, he had written about how he wanted to find someone he could be himself with and date them.

That’s why tomorrow, you had to be on your best behavior so he could be himself around you.

~~~

You were twenty minutes early.

It wasn’t your intention to arrive this early but whether it be the excitement to meet up with Maru or not wanting to make him wait if your train was late-

Wait, those were all connected.

Letting out a sigh, you checked your phone. Yep, still twenty minutes. Once you put it back in your purse, your eyes scouted around the station. There weren’t any empty spaces for you to sit so you were standing by a meeting point next to the maps, hoping Maru would see you.

Although you didn’t know what he looked like, you had put effort into how you looked today so you could impress him. Deep inside, you hoped he would take notice of your appearance and compliment you but some men were just too dense.

From the way he had started texting you, he gave you the impression that he was one of those stoic and dense men but as you started to get to know him better, he turned out to be quite a friendly person. Very talkative and caring.

You pressed a hand on your cheek, you were burning up. Geez, were you really blushing this much because of him?

When you told your friends about this date, they had told you not to have too many expectations about Maru. They believed you were being catfished but it wasn’t possible, you didn’t want to meet him because of his appearance after all.

“Um, excuse me-”

Startled, you lifted your head to stare at a… robot?

You stepped away from its way, thinking that you were standing in front of its charging station or something. How long had it been since you had gone out? Had robots already taken over? Or was this one of those public pranks?

The robot was staring at you even after you moved away.

“(username)?”

You lifted your gaze and looked at the robot with wide eyes. “M-M-Maru?”

It nodded, “Mechamaru.”

No, it wasn’t a robot. You could sense cursed energy oozing from it. More like a cursed doll. Nevertheless, you were speechless.

There was a long pause before you spoke. “Ah, I...” You looked around as if you were searching for an exit and anxiously clutching on your purse.

Great, you were going to make up an excuse and go away. Just like he thought you would.

“I thought I was going to meet you, not a puppet.”

“I’m here,” he said, static sizzling noise coming from him was like nails on a chalkboard. “I just can’t be physically here because of my condition.”

“You could’ve told me about it first… ahh, sorry.” You sounded more annoyed than you would have liked but quickly covered it up by bowing your head to greet him. “Nevermind, I’m (name).”

“Are we going to use real names?”

“Well, I’m not gonna call you Megaman.” There was a smile.

“Mechamaru,” he corrected. After a short silence, he added, “Kokichi.”

“Nice to meet you Kokichi, I hope we can get along well.” You bowed yet again.

“Why are you being so formal?”

“It’s cuz…” You pointed at him.

“What?”

“Well…” You used both hands to gesture his whole body.

“If you say it’s because I’m a robot or anything similar to that, I’ll go home.” He sounded serious, or maybe it was because of the static.

You pouted and leaned forward on your tiptoes, “If I can’t even joke around then I’ll go home.”

“I thought you were looking forward to our date.” When you blushed at his words he spoke again. “You look cuter than your pictures.”

“Ahh, you really think so?” You started walking and he followed after you.

“I do.” He was keeping a large space between the two of you, whenever you tried to walk closer to him, he would move away but now when you were caught in the station with the crowd who were going home after work hours, you had to stay close to him.

You were being pushed against Kokichi thanks to the crowd trying to walk out of the station and he didn’t complain about it. Kokichi didn’t look at you, he thought about the things he read on the internet instead.

‘If you want your date to consider you as manly, you have to invest yourself to talk to her.’

“Your dress looks cute.” Kokichi came up with ‘the compliment her outfit’ route, he had seen men flirt before, he could do it too.

He stared down for a moment to see your reaction.

Bingo!

You smiled brighter than the sun, you played with your hair to give him a playful answer. “Thank you, I wore this just for our date.” Your eyes shined with small sparkles in them. “I really like your collar.” You pointed at his face, not too close, hesitant to invade his personal space. I’m here with his puppet not him, you reminded yourself.

“Thanks.”

When the two of you finally exited the station, you walked alongside him.

“Where to?” He nonchalantly asked while you were looking around the streets.

“What about karaoke?” You gave him an inviting smile, “It’d be fun.”

“Whatever you say.” He wasn’t sure which way you were taking. There was the main street and Kyoto's red-light district, of course, he knew you wouldn’t be going there. “Which street are we going for?”

You pointed to your right, “The main street, there is a karaoke place I know.” Your smile altered when you noticed how this time when you walked together to cross the street, it was close, your shoulder touched his fake biceps.

“I’m not good at singing for obvious reasons.” Back in his bathtub, Kokichi said it in a joking manner but thanks to the cursed puppet, it sounded a lot as if he was annoyed about the idea of going into karaoke. He bit his tongue and cringed, waiting for your reaction.

“You can still try, can’t you?” You gave him the best puppy eyes you could. “For me?”

Kokichi blushed but you weren’t able to see it through Mechamaru. “Y-yeah.”

“Oh, I didn’t know robots could stutter.”

“I didn’t stutter and I’m not a robot. This is a cursed puppet and sometimes the commands I give are interrupted, that’s why I-”

“You’re so easy to tease just as I guessed!”

Kokichi covered his mouth with his hand, watching you giggle at him through his screen.

“Here it is.” Pointing at a sign, you grabbed his arm and dragged him with you.

While you were showing him the prices, he was busy staring down at your shirt. He could… he could see your cleavage.

“The menu says they serve alcohol at this hour! Ahh, the prices are cheaper than the last time too! We can share the tab-” You stopped yourself from talking. Silence brought him out of his trance. “Oops, sorry. You can’t eat or drink through Megaman, right?”

“Mechamaru,” he corrected. “No, I can’t… But it’s on me anyway.”

“You’ll pay?” Your eyes sparkled brighter than the stars. Your pouting lips and hand on his chest didn’t help.

Kokichi looked away, blushing. “Y-yeah.”

“Y-you’re the best!” Mocking his stuttering, you offered him a cute smile. Then you went on to drag him inside while telling him about how this place was the best karaoke place in Kyoto because they served desserts and your favorite cocktail. All the while renting a room for the two of you.

“Would you like to share with others?” The employee asked.

“No.” Your answer was instantaneous.

Behind the register, the employee stared at Kokichi and down at you. It was easy to tell he thought the two of you were a mismatch. “Your room is to the left, you can order through the smart tablet. Have fun.”

“Thanks,” you said before walking past the register. When Kokichi caught up with you, you turned around. “Did you see the way he stared? So lame!”

“Well, anyone would have stared if they saw a pretty girl next to a robot.”

“So, you’re accepting you’re a robot?” You grinned, opening the door to the private room.

“That’s not what I meant!” He didn’t know what he was expecting. From the way you texted, he should have known you were this childish and unable to have a serious conversation.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” He closed the door behind him as you were ordering as many drinks as you could. Once he noticed you were about to order the entire menu, he barely managed to stop you by taking the smart tablet away from your hands. “Hey, I’m not rich!”

“It’s cheap, trust me!” You pouted your lips again, reaching for the smart tablet he was holding above your head.

His stare found the menu and froze. It was cheaper than he had thought like you said. He had never been somewhere like this, nobody could blame him for it.

“Sorry, I didn’t notice,” he said as he handed the device back to you.

“I was showing you the menu earlier, you weren’t listening, were you?” Your smile widened, eyes squinting knowingly.

“I was listening! You’re talking way too much, I can’t keep up!”

You crossed your legs, continuing to add stuff to your order.

It got quiet.

Realizing what he had said was rude, he apologized.

“It doesn’t sound genuine.”

“It’s because I’m talking through a puppet.”

“Exactly.”

You weren’t looking at him. Putting the tablet aside, you leaned back on the soft cushions. The mood had changed. When you weren’t talking, it was too quiet.

Decidedly, he walked over to the karaoke machine and grabbed two microphones. He sat next to you, placing one of the microphones next to you as he reached for the tablet.

There were way too many songs in the system and he knew none of them.

Scrolling further, he found Takada-chan’s songs.

“You like Takada-chan?” you asked, noticing how he had stopped scrolling.

“No,” he replied. “My friend-” Was he really his friend? “My friend likes her, he won’t stop talking about her and all.”

“I like her,” you said. “I’ve been to her meet and greets many times but they’re always ruined by some buff dude who has the most tickets. He’s always at the events, kinda creepy but seems like he supports her. He once beat up some guy who insulted her.”

Kokichi didn’t say anything. He didn’t want that guy to be the icebreaker on his date.

“Creepy,” he uttered before putting the tablet on your lap. “You should sing, I don’t know any of these songs.”

“None of them?” You raised a brow.

“None.”

“You’re so boring,” you murmured, clicking on the first song you saw.

The loud music filled the room and his hideout. You tapped on the microphone, “Check, one, two. Kokichi is sooooo boring!”

Your laughter was the next thing that filled his hideout. He chuckled but it came out as a static noise through Mechamaru.

While you were singing, the same employee came with two trays full of drinks and snacks, he left them on the table before leaving immediately. None of you paid any mind as you were changing the lyrics to tease Kokichi.

“Are those really the lyrics?” he asked.

“Yep!”

Another giggle.

Too cute.

Very cute.

He watched you stop singing for a brief moment to chug down your third drink. Your cheeks were flushed red from the booze and your neck was sweaty, you kept fanning your hand towards your face.

His gaze focused on a particular sweat droplet on your neck and idly watched as it drizzled down to your cleavage before disappearing under the fabric of your dress.

Kokichi tried focusing on something else but he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from you. Every single thing you did was seductive. When you bit onto a small rice cake or the way your lips closed around the straw of your drink and how your cheeks hollowed when you tried sucking the last bits of your cocktail in your mouth.

The last drop had to be when you grabbed an ice cube from your drink and held it over the skin of your chest.

His hand pressed on his lower half. He was thankful he wasn’t physically there or he would have been labeled as a pervert. Under the soothing medical liquid, he had a problem you didn’t need to see.

You weren’t singing anymore but the music was playing nonetheless to suppress the silence as Kokichi was practically undressing you with his eyes.

“Heyyy, Kokichi~” you slurred, sitting closer to him. “You’re being too quiet!”

Taken aback, he spoke. “I’m not sure what to say?”

“Just talk…” you whined, putting a hand on his knee.

Oh, how he wished he could feel the warmth of your hand.

“Or better… Sing!” You held a microphone up to his face.

“I can’t sing,” he reminded.

“You said, you’d sing for meee~”

He blushed, taking the microphone from your hand. “I don’t know the lyrics.”

“It’s on the screen.”

Yes, the lyrics were on the screen.

He felt embarrassed, this was stupid. He wasn’t even actually in the room with you but he felt so nervous. His actual hands were shaking as he gulped.

When he started singing, you started laughing.

The static made it sound like he was an actual robot. Yet, Kokichi didn’t stop despite how tone-deaf his voice was coming through Mechamaru. He wanted to make sure you were having fun but the music stopped.

Both of you stared at the notification on the tablet, asking if you wanted to add another hour to your stay.

Had it already been an hour? Time was going fast when you two were having fun.

You looked at Kokichi.

He pressed to accept.

The music continued playing.

This time, Kokichi didn’t sing. The two of you started chatting about everything and anything until there was a lull in the conversation.

“Lemme see your hand,” you said, reaching your own towards him. He slowly placed his hand on your open one and you compared the size. “Wow, your hand is hugee, is your real hand this big?”

Funny, if not absurd. You were on a date with a puppet but you were getting turned on.

“It's the same size as my own hand.” His gaze dropped to his actual body. “At least one of them.”

“Can you feel that?” You intertwined your fingers with his.

“No.” He wasn’t looking and he didn’t need to look. The depressing realization that he was always going to watch people behind a screen and in this damn bathtub was starting to sink in once again.

“Can you feel this?” You were giggling.

“I told you, I can’t feel-” His breathing stopped at the sight of you pressing his hand on your breast.

“I wanna meet you, Kokichi~” Smiling enticingly, you sat closer to him. “It’s no fun when I can’t see if you’re blushing right now.” Your hand over his hand moved on your breast, the supple flesh jiggled under the front of your dress. “Are you blushing right now?”

“I am.” His answer was instant.

“You know,” you started, putting your free hand on his thigh and lifting your leg up on the cushion to face him. “I got all dressed up ‘cause I wanted you to lose your composure. You sounded so uptight and stoic. I wanted to see you lose it.” Tilting your head, you puckered your lips. “But you didn’t even come to our date.”

“I did.”

“Megaman did.”

“Mechamaru.”

“I wanted Kokichi to come.” You pulled his hand away from your breast and led it down to your stomach and even lower. “I wish you were here so you could feel how wet I am.”

“(name),” he said. “I can’t feel my fingers through Mechamaru.”

“Mm?” You placed his hand under the skirt of your dress. “But I can feel them.”

Kokichi’s actual hand started shaking in excitement as Mechamaru’s fingers brushed against your panties.

“Can’t I meet you?” Your voice was faint compared to the music but he heard it. “I wanna meet you.”

“You’ll be disappointed, I don’t look… normal.”

“You don’t look normal right now either.” Biting your lip, you moved against his hand. A soft gasp left your lips. “Yet, I’m so turned on right now.”

There were a thousand different thoughts invading his mind but Kokichi felt like he was hypnotized by your hips.

“Kokichiii, move your fingers,” you whined softly, your eyes hazy with lust.

“I need to see them,” he said. Back in his room, his own hand was pressing down on his growing erection. “Or I may move them wrong.”

“Pervert~” you teased, lifting the skirt of your dress up.

He didn’t say anything, instead focused his attention on your soaked panties. How long had you been this wet? From the moment you two rented the room or-

“Kokichi.” Your needy voice brought him out of his dirty thoughts. “You don’t have a cock under your pants, do you?” Your hand pressed against Mechamaru’s groin.

For the first time in his life, Kokichi felt his entire body jolt. Your vulgar way of asking was enough to get him rock hard. “No-”

“What a waste.” Sulking, you retrieved your hand. “But are you hard right now?”

“I… I am.”

A dangerous glint sparkled through your eyes. “If only you were here… I’d make you feel sooo good.”

Mechamaru’s fingers pressed against your clothed folds before moving along them. A soft moan left your lips and you balanced yourself on your hands.

“I look like a freak-”

“You keep saying that.” Your hips moved against his hand. “As if that matters to me.”

Mechamaru slid your panties to the side and spread your folds with two of his fingers, he carefully watched as wet strands connecting them together broke apart. Kokichi’s own hand was pumping his cock.

“What are you doing right now, Kokichi?”

“I’m putting a finger inside.” He inserted one of his fingers inside you.

“No, what are you really doing?” You bit your lip.

“I’m… I’m jerking off.”

Satisfied with his answer, you crossed a leg over his to settle on his lap with your back against his chest. Spreading your legs wider, you allowed him a better view of your wet pussy. Mechamaru’s digits slid inside as Kokichi moved his hand along the length of his cock.

Mechamaru’s other hand went to cup your breast over your shirt, making a moan escape your lips.

His fingers were reaching deeper than your own fingers ever could. The digits moved in a scissoring motion and curled against your gummy walls, pressing against the spot that made your vision blurry.

“Kokichi,” gasping, you squirmed on his lap, your back arched when his thumb grazed over your clit. “I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Kokichi’s hand tightened around the tip of his cock, he pulled the sensitive skin down to expose the pink tip and massaged it using his thumb. When his hand started moving along his cock again, the device helping him talk through Mechamaru picked up the clicking sound rather than the medical fluid splashing.

You moaned at the realization of what you were hearing.

The feeling of the metallic firm fingers stroking your clit made your hips buck against his hand. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, panting, you pressed your thighs together.

Mechamaru’s hand on your chest moved down on your thigh to hold you in place as his fingers inside your pussy started to vibrate. The sudden pleasure made you scream but the loud music concealed it.

Kokichi couldn’t breathe normally, his pulse had gone haywire as his hand was moving hastily around his cock while Mechamaru’s digits were messing you up.

“S-s-s-stop!” Your voice broke into a moan.

“Do you really want me to stop?” He barely managed to ask, his hand wouldn’t stop.

You shook your head rapidly, biting your lip.

Your walls clenched around the digits, sucking them in deeper. Kokichi’s own hand was moving faster than his heartbeat. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his shoulders tensed.

He was close.

From the way you were shaking, he could say the same thing for you.

So, when Mechamaru pushed his digits further inside, the vibration got stronger and stronger until your legs shook. The pleasure that was building in your gut suddenly got released, shaking you to your core.

Kokichi followed suit, his cock spurted thick clumps of cum and they landed on his stomach, his bandages absorbed his seed.

By the time he caught his breath, he realized you were still on his lap.

Mechamaru had gone limp as he had gotten distracted because of his orgasm. He revived the cursed doll while you were trying to fix your dress.

You wanted to say something but you couldn’t find something to say.

To your rescue, the music stopped.

The tablet had the same notification from before. Informing you that the second hour had ended and if you wanted to rent the room for one more hour.

Kokichi leaned forward and pressed on the tablet to end the session.

“We’re leaving already?�� you pouted your lips.

“You said you wanted to meet me.”

Kokichi watched as the brightest smile he had ever seen formed on your face.

After he paid the tab the two of you exited the building as he held you up with one hand because your legs weren’t functioning properly.

“The employee behind the register noticed your wobbly legs,” Kokichi said.

“You think so?” you whispered, cheeks and ears colored in bright red.

“He was looking, so, yes.”

“You kinda went overboard by using Megaman’s vibrator hands.” Your giggle filled his ears and he smiled to himself.

“It’s Mechamaru.”

#this was gonna be a dark one but my friend told me to rewrite it lmao #anywayyyy kokichi supremacy #mechamaru x reader #kokichi muta x reader

279 notes · View notes

qitwrites · 3 years

Text

a numbers game

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Kiribaku

(AO3)

Bakugou knows his personality and general rage-filled disposition towards everything, in general, isn’t winning him any favours, but the texts have made him contemplate just how shitty he must’ve been in a past life to deserve a fate like this.

Because no one - and Bakugou knows such assholes as Monoma - but no one deserves to be on the receiving end of unsolicited dick pics. From random numbers. At all times of the day. For the last 3ish months.

“I am going to throw my phone out the fucking window, I swear on all that is good and pure, fucking bull-“

“More dick pics?” Camie interrupts with a wide grin, plucking the phone out of Bakugou’s hand.

“What the fuck else?” Bakugou snaps, trying to pull his phone back in vain. Camie holds it just out of reach, eyeing the disgusting penis with a critical stare.

"Hmm,” she says, passing the phone back to him before taking a sip of her terrible grass juice that smells like a badly mowed golf course, “the lighting is bad and he hasn’t done like, any grooming at all. 3/10.”

“You’re being generous,” Bakugou huffs, deleting the picture immediately and swallowing the still raging urge to fling his phone at the nearest wall. “It’s unsolicited. And his fingernails are fucking filthy. -100/10.”

Camie rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic again Kitkat.”

Bakugou counts to 10 in his head, tries to find that last shred of patience he knows is somewhere deep in his dark pit of a soul and breathes out in a rush.

“I need to fucking figure this out before I actually lose it and track down one of these fuckers and choke the life out of them.”

Because here’s the thing- Bakugou has been receiving dick pics and dirty text messages like hi bby want sex? and imma dick you down gud boo – he’s positively swooning, what a lovely way to be wooed – and he has no idea how to stop it. Yes, he could cancel his number and get a new one, but all of his bank details are linked to this one. He’s had it since he first got a phone in middle school, and now all of his documents are attached to the damn thing. The very idea of going to the banks and the DMV and every other stupid establishment to get it changed makes him grimace hard enough that he decides to bear with it.

Except, every time he receives one of these horrible pictures, his urge to blow up the phone, nay, the entire world, simmers at dangerous levels.

“Cool it kitkat,” Camie croons, giving his forearm a squeeze, “you’re making your homicidal face. That cannot be good for wrinkles.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Bakugou grunts, flinging his phone away carelessly and watching it skitter around on the kitchen counter before halting dangerously close to the edge. “I just want it to stop.”

Camie puts her atrocity for a drink down and pulls the fridge open, rummaging around as she says, “I have a theory about all this.” She pulls out a jar of jalapenos and places it in front of Bakugou. The blonde yanks a fork out of the admittedly cute utensil bucket in the middle of their counter before snapping the lid off and spearing a good 3 pieces in one go. He chews on them slowly and directs a raised brow at Camie.

“Well,” she muses, picking her drink back up, “as a woman that receives a LOT of numbers from guys and gals and non-binary folks alike-“ Bakugou makes it a point to roll his eyes hard enough to knock his head back; Camie’s laughter is loud and boisterous “- I have a tactic for when I don’t know how to say no and don’t want to give my digits.”

Bakugou has another forkful of jalapenos in his mouth when he narrows his eyes at her.

Camie shrugs, “I usually change the very last digit of my number. Works like a charm. I never meet the person again, and they can’t contact me. Win-win.”

“Win-win my ass,” Bakugou seethes. “Do I look like I’m winning right now? I am this fucking close to killing someone, because of stupid tactics like yours.”

Camie finishes the last of her drink, and speaks around her straw, “You say that, but do you know how many people, and especially dudes, don’t take no for an answer? The only reason I give out any digits at all is when I can’t guarantee my safety. I know it’s not like, the perfect solution or anything, but I’m giving you facts right now.”

And Bakugou does, in fact, know that. He’s met those pushy assholes- people that don’t back down, people that don’t take no at face value, people that push and prod and get up in his space. It pisses him off to absolutely no end.

“Whatever,” he concedes. He spears another forkful of jalapenos before grumbling, “So, what the fuck do I do?”

Camie grins, minx like. “Why don’t you text the number one ahead and one behind your own and ask? I mean, in the best-case scenario you figure it out and get it all to stop, in the worst case, you get to yell at like random people. Isn’t that your second favourite pastime, right after yelling at that pigeon outside our balcony, the one with an agenda?”

“Don’t talk about that fucking pigeon,” Bakugou fumes, “fucking piece of shit bird and those dark, robotic eyes. Something is up with that; you can’t convince me otherwise.” He mulls over the rest of her suggestion before relenting, “Well, I guess I could spare a moment to yell at the fucking extras giving out my number to perverts with no manners and gross penises.”

“I find it so funny when you say the word manners,” Camie says as she walks to her room, “It’s almost like you know what it means!”

She isn’t even looking at him, but she manages to dodge the jalapeno that sails at her head. It hits the wall with a sick squelch, and when Bakugou hears Camie’s door shut, he drops his head on the counter with a loud, resounding thunk and muffles a scream into the marble.

He forgets to send out those texts, and when he receives yet another picture, not three days later, of someone holding their disgusting penis in their hand, like it’s an accomplishment or some shit, he sends out a text message to two different numbers typed with shaky, sweaty fingers.

>> xxx-xxx-xxx6 , xxx-xxx-xxx4

I don’t know who the fuck you are, and you don’t know me, but it’s possible that one of you assholes gives out my number to random people who, in turn, send me fucking dick pics. It’s been over 3 fucking months, so knock it the actual fuck off. And in case it isn’t you, fuck you anyway.

Bakugou wakes up from a restless sleep to sunlight sloping in through the blinds of his room, a dry mouth, and three new text messages from an unknown number.

Because his brain takes time to boot up in the mornings, he foregoes the phone entirely and makes his way to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Camie is always up before him, and he gratefully pours himself a mug of her insanely strong black coffee, the kind to palpitate your heart and make you vibrate in your seat. She calls it jet fuel, Inasa calls it death, Todoroki just blinks.

When he’s half a mug down, he finally retrieves his phone from his room and takes a seat in the balcony, surrounded by plants of all kinds. The sun is bright but not harsh, and he takes a second to enjoy it before opening his messages.

He doesn’t even recall sending the messages last night, and for a moment he’s enraged at the idea that someone sent him even more dick pics, but there’s no photos waiting for him, just three messages.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 omg omg OMG I didn’t think anyone actually used this number im sorry D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 no really im so so sorry holy shit I was just following this idea that my friend gave me cause im terrible at turning people down but I didn’t realize they were messaging an actual other person OMG

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ofc I wont be giving your number out anymore im just so sorry bro, god, this is so damn UNMANLY of me

At least the person has the decency to sound apologetic. Not that it tempers Bakugou in any way, shape or form, but he takes note of it somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind.

Bakugou you better not give it out anymore fuckmunch. I should sue your ass for putting me under so much psychological distress.

The guy replies startlingly quickly. Bakugou opens the message with a quirked brow.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 shit can you actually do that?

Bakugou has no idea, but the key to selling anything is confidence, and he’s got enough to spare.

Bakugou try me

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM REALLY REALLY SORRY OK TRULY D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and not just cuz you might sue me or anything, it was a terrible move on my part :’(

xxx-xxx-xxx4 can I make it up to you somehow??

Bakugou huffs, deflating a little. He’s angry yes, positively incensed for the most part, but the guy sounds genuinely sorry, and he’s finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at someone that’s just being so damn decent and taking full responsibility.

Bakugou I don’t fucking know.

Bakugou just stop giving out my no.

Bakugou I swear to god if I get ONE MORE NUDE

Bakugou I will find you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you don’t have to find me ill come to you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 cuz ill def deserve it at that point

xxx-xxx-xxx4 anyway, im sorry again. really ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get some sleep, so tell me later about how I can make it up to you!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 goodnight

Bakugou checks the clock at the top left corner of his phone screen. It reads 8:31am.

What the fuck does this guy do for work anyway? And does Bakugou care?

He decides no, he doesn’t, because he’s really too busy to care about anything, especially assholes that hand out his number to horny strangers because they’re too chickenshit to say no.

He nods at his own conclusion, downs the rest of his death-in-a-cup, and walks back inside, ready to start another long day of work. Bakugou gives himself an hour before he puts this all behind him, fully forgotten and finally taken care of.

Why the fuck haven’t I blocked this fucker yet, is the first thing Bakugou thinks when he gets more texts from them.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 heyyo!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 did you think of anything????? How can I make it up to you??

Bakugou stop texting me, that’ll be a great start

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I will as soon as u tell me how to make it up to you!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I was being so unmanly and cowardly, I need to fix it!!

Bakugou good for fucking you, leave me alone

xxx-xxx-xxx4 y don’t you keep thinking abt it and lemme know !!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 if it helps, I can hook u up with some free drinks!! I co-own and bartend at a place downtown!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just think abt it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get back to work, talk soon!

Bakugou stop texting me dammit

Bakugou isn’t a naïve person, but he somehow convinces himself that this will be the end of things.

It is, predictably, not the end of things.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I just realized I didn’t give u my name

xxx-xxx-xxx4 Kirishima eijirou!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and you are?

Bakugou blocking you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 aww come on man, don’t be like tht ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 wait, r u a man?????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE AT LEAST TELL ME THAT I DON’T WANT TO MISGENDER U OMG

Bakugou can you calm the fuck down holy shit

Bakugou yes I’m a dude, you’re fucking fine dumbass

xxx-xxx-xxx4 oh phew!!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ok my dude

xxx-xxx-xxx4 please come down to the bar??????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 do you actually drink though?? If you don’t we still have great mocktails

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and I can whip up some awesome protein shakes

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ohhh and our food is bomb,,, I promise

Bakugou do you ever just stop talking

xxx-xxx-xxx4 NOPE :D

Bakugou Not a compliment

xxx-xxx-xxx4 what can I say

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im an opportunist

Bakugou you’re telling me

Bakugou fucker

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM STILL SO SORRY

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE COME TO THE BAR LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU

xxx-xxx-xxx4 actions speak hella louder than words

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I must action you

Bakugou what the fuck

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you get what I mean!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 <location> this is the place

xxx-xxx-xxx4 its name is RIOT, u cant miss it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just lemme know when u can make it

Bakugou I haven’t agreed to shit asshole

Bakugou stop assuming things

xxx-xxx-xxx4 free food, free drinks, free live performance of whatever band’s performing

Bakugou …………………

Bakugou I’ll think about it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 HELL YEAH

xxx-xxx-xxx4 whats your name btw?

Bakugou like id tell you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I need it for the reservation!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so that I don’t accidentally serve the wrong gentleman all your free perks

Bakugou didn’t say im coming yet

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im super optimistic

Bakugou I can tell, you’re giving me a headache

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so………… name?

Bakugou no

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I’ll get it out of you eventually

Bakugou try me

Bakugou fucker

If Bakugou finds himself smiling at the end of the exchange, well, that’s his business.

“So, you finally figured out who was responsible for the penis pictures?” Todoroki deadpans around his cosmo.

“That’s wonderful Bakugou!” Inasa booms, slamming his beer down on the counter with gusto. Bakugou throws a spoon at him.

“Shut it Baldy,” he grunts, going back to chopping veggies. “And yes, I did, but now this fucker won’t stop texting me, insisting on making it up to me or some shit.”

“And this is a bad thing?” Todoroki summarizes slowly. Bakugou turns around in time to see him mouth why to Inasa before taking another generous sip of his drink. Inasa shrugs his stupidly large shoulders before asking, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Bakugou throws another spoon at him. “Because, I texted them so I could stop people from texting me. Now this person’s volunteering information to me about being a bartender and shit and constantly apologizing and it’s fucking annoying.”

“You know what’s interesting?” Camie muses, stirring her bloody mary with a long ass celery stick. “You’re getting all these text messages from this bartender, and you can like, so easily block this one number and be done with it, but you like, keeping responding. And keep, you know, not blocking.”

He can’t see it, but he knows Todoroki is nodding, the fucker.

“That is a good observation!” Inasa booms again, and Bakugou has to resist the urge to fling his entire cutlery set at the man’s thick skull. “Do you like this person Bakugou?”

“What’s there to like, I don’t even fucking know him!”

“Well,” Camie starts, takes a bite out of the celery stick, continues, “he’s well-mannered. Clearly good looking, because you got a LOT of penis pictures these past three months, and that also leads us to believe the business is doing really well, if so many patrons come in begging for a number. All good things, don’t you think?”

“I hate you,” Bakugou says, stirring the curry with barely repressed rage. “I hate all of you. I hate humanity. Fuck people.”

“Or fuck this person in specific,” Camie says gleefully. “You haven’t gotten laid in like 8 months boo, you need to get some.”

“You’re the actual fucking worst.”

“In all seriousness,” Todoroki interrupts, putting his empty glass down delicately, “why haven’t you blocked the number? It seems like an easy enough solution.” The asshole has the audacity to sound genuinely curious, if not slightly amused.

Bakugou hates everything.

“I don’t, I don’t fucking know, ok?” He finally admits through clenched teeth. The blonde kills the heat and places the curry on the counter while Camie brings out the rice and some pickled vegetables from the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off before handing it to Bakugou, who snatches it away and takes a quick swig before continuing, “He’s actually kinda nice to me, I guess. And I like watching him be so sorry about all those penises. I may have also mentioned suing him for psychological distress.” Bakugou catches Todoroki’s gaze. “Can I do that?”

Todoroki hums, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ve got that solid a case. Plus, haven’t you deleted virtually all the evidence?”

Bakugou grips the neck of his beer bottle harder. “I fucking hate everything.”

bartender asshole <image attached>

Bakugou what the fuck

Bakugou why are you sending me cat pics?

Bakugou also that cat is stupidly cute

bartender asshole I know right?????

bartender asshole her name is ruby

bartender asshole and id die for her

bartender asshole i just figured ud be a cat person

Bakugou ………….

Bakugou I hate u

bartender asshole :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou Bakugou Katsuki

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

bartender asshole HI BAKUGOU SO NICE TO KNOW UR NAME

Bakugou I hate everything

bartender asshole except ruby. Its not allowed

Bakugou …………………………………

Bakugou except ruby

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

Kirishima, it turns out, is a ray of fucking sunshine. Bakugou has a distinct feeling that looking at him directly would be a blinding experience.

Not that he knows who to look for though; he has no idea what this guy looks like. He guesses that he’s buff, with all the times he tells Bakugou about the gym showers running out of hot water and beating his best weights doing bench presses, but he knows nothing else.

He does know that he’s sweet as fuck, making it impossible for Bakugou to stay mad at him. He doesn’t blink at Bakugou’s cussing, and he sends him cute pictures of Ruby.

There is a part of him, small but steadily growing, that wants to meet this stupidly nice bartender.

Bakugou hates everything.

dumbass bartender so what do you do???

Bakugou front-end development and web design

dumbass bartender oh damn!!!

dumbass bartender so youre like smart smart

Bakugou obviously

dumbass bartender have I seen your work anywhere??

Bakugou I recently redid the website of that protein powder company you don’t shut up about

dumbass bartender ????????????????????

dumbass bartender that’s amazing!!!!!!!!!

dumbass bartender I just revisited the website, it looks so cool

Bakugou duh

Bakugou im the best

dumbass bartender I don’t doubt that!!! :D :D

Bakugou don’t you have work?

dumbass bartender aww bakubro are you looking out for me <3 <3

Bakugou call me that again and I will fucking end you

dumbass bartender before the free drinks??? That you are yet to redeem? ?? at my wonderful establishment?????????? :D :D :D

Bakugou I hate everything.

dumbass bartender D:

Bakugou except RUBY DAMMIT

dumbass bartender :D

“Just to recap,” Kaminari says with an incredulous look in his eyes, “this guy cusses like a sailor, is constantly insulting you, never initiates conversation, and you still like him?”

Kirishima’s answering grin is bashful. “I mean, when you put it like that it sounds not so great, but he’s really not that bad! He’s super funny and confident, and he LOVES Ruby. Plus, I don’t like him like that, I just think he’s cool.” Kirishima picks up another glass from the washer and starts carefully drying it with his dishcloth before saying, “And, you know, I did put him through a lot by giving out his number. His behaviour is kinda warranted if you ask me.”

“I mean, in the beginning maybe, but haven’t you guys been texting for over a week now?”

“Denki, are you forgetting that giving out another number was your idea?” Kirishima mutters, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

Kaminari suddenly seems to find the glass in his hand a lot more interesting. Kirishima’s laugh echoes around the empty bar.

‘What’s so funny?” Ashido muses, bringing a crate of bottled beer behind the counter.

“Kirishima is going gaga over angry dick pic man.”

“I’m not going gaga, what the heck-“

“I think it’s cute,” Ashido says with a big smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually be interested in somebody; it’s really cute!”

“I don’t like him like that,” Kirishima stresses, though his cheeks are a little warm. He can blame that on the lack of air conditioning, he thinks.

“We talking about angry dick pic man?” Sero asks with a shit-eating grin. “10 bucks say he’s actually a middle-aged guy with a cheese fetish.”

“That’s so random-“

“You’re on!” Ashido yells, slapping her hand into Sero’s. “I think he’ll be a hottie.”

“He hasn’t even said he’ll come,” Kirishima says, eyes downcast.

“He’ll come,” the three chorus, going about doing their tasks. Kirishima shakes his head fondly and finishes up with the glasses. Just as he’s put all the shot glasses away, he feels his phone vibrate.

Bakubro just finished a massive project

Bakubro could use a drink this weekend

Bakubro know any good spots?

Kirishima’s face breaks into the biggest smile as he rushes to answer.

Kirishima I know a bar that serves free drinks with your name on it!!!!

Kirishima amazing food, dope music, the bestest drinks

Kirishima ive heard the bartender is a great guy too

Bakubro way to toot your own fucking horn damn

Kirishima :DDDDD

Kirishima bt seriously

Kirishima please? ???? ??

Kirishima PLEASEEEEEEEEE??????????????????

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro fine.

Bakubro Friday night at 8

Kirishima looks up from the screen and calls out, “Denki!”

“Yeah?”

“Switch shifts with me, I’ll do Friday.”

“Um, ok, why though?”

Kirishima doesn’t respond, just goes back to texting, his heart thudding in his ribcage.

Kirishima YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Kirishima cant wait :D

Bakubro I’m bringing my stupid friends btw

Kirishima wait

Kirishima you have friends???????

Bakubro I am going to end you

Bakubro you know what? Fuck you im not coming

Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

Kirishima IM SORRY OFC U HAVE FRNDS

Kirishima please come

Kirishima how big a table should I reserve????

Bakubro don’t bother

Kirishima IM SORRRYYYYYYYYYY

Kirishima <image attached> <image attached> <image attached>

Bakubro bastard

Bakubro you playing dirty by sending me pics of Ruby

Kirishima need to weaken your guard somehow

Kirishima pls tell me it worked

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro ill be there

Bakubro reserve a table for 4

Bakubro your stupid bar better be worth it

Kirishima I promise it will be!!!!

Kirishima whoops in joy, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looks up to see three sets of eyes looking at him with varying degrees of amusement.

“You get a really mushy look on your face when you’re texting him, it’s almost gross,” Sero points out with a laugh.

“Hush you,” Ashido admonishes, whipping her dishcloth at him. She walks over to Kirishima and gives him a big hug. “I think it’s very, very precious.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s coming this Friday!” Kirishima beams, holding Ashido closer against his side.

The three giggle.

“10 bucks say Kirishima messes up the drinks at least once.”

“HEY!”

Ashido squeezes around his middle. “Hon, I love you, but I’m not dumb enough to go against that.”

“HEY!”

They end up laughing and fibbing at each other for the rest of the prep time, and Kirishima feels his heart absolutely soar.

Friday brings with it crunch time, running lines and lines of code, having a mini-breakdown because the stupid text block keeps floating around on the webpage like it’s in outer fucking space, being forced into one of Camie’s ridiculous vlogs and having an existential crisis about what to wear on a non-date get-together with the guy that ruined Bakugou’s life for close to three months.

Camie spends most of the day laughing at him. Bakugou throws more condiments at her.

“Fucking help me at least, you useless wench,” Bakugou growls, shifting to clothes as he throws a pair of jeans at her. Camie dances out of the way and doubles over, laughing till she tears up from the force of it all.

“I can’t, I just can’t,” she wheezes. “Did you just say wench? What era are you from babe?”

“FUCK OFF,” he roars, leaping towards her. Camie shrieks and ducks away, making a beeline towards his closet.

“Ok, ok, let’s get you dressed! What kinda look are you trying for?”

“Fuck if I know,” he grouses, feeling oddly out of his depth. He wants to look good, but he has no idea for what.

That’s a lie, he knows why. He just won’t admit it.

“Well, why don’t we pick something simple but flattering? Plus, if it's in your style, you’re bound to be more comfy.” Camie pulls out a pair of black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a black fitted round-neck tee shirt, and some black boots. While he’s changing, Camie pulls out a silver chain, some bands for his wrists and a collection of rings.

“Do you want me to do your eyes?” she offers, holding up some mascara and an eye pencil. Bakugou shrugs and sits on the edge of his bed. Camie’s smile is soft as she stands between his thighs, gently but efficiently applying his make-up. When she’s done, he walks over to the mirror to look at himself, and he has to admit- he looks good. Always one to take care of his body and his figure, Bakugou is lean muscle packed into a 5’10” body. His blonde hair is as messy as ever, but the combination of his make-up, the accessories and his clothes give him an edgy look like no other. Camie throws a dark fitted jacket at him before sauntering over to her own room.

He continues to reply to some work emails when his phone buzzes.

dumbass cant wait to see you!!!

dumbass just ask for me at the bar

dumbass or I might be the one to greet you!! :D :D

Bakugou I know dumbass

Bakugou what, are you nervous or some shit?

dumbass I mean, kinda????

dumbass it’s our first time meeting afterall

dumbass I don’t even know wat you look like!!!!

Bakugou blonde wearing all black

dumbass redhead wearing a shirt with the riot logo!

Bakugou whatever

Bakugou ill be there at 8

Dumbass cant wait <33333

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou scoffs, his own nerves calming at the thought that he’s not the only one that’s a bit out of sorts. It’s nice to know that sunshine Kirishima is jittery about all this.

Also, interesting to know that he’s a redhead. Bakugou can’t quite imagine it, but in a few minutes, he won't need to.

His stomach roils with anticipation, and Bakugou hates every single thing.

Camie pops out of her room at half-past 7 in a maroon romper that cuts above her mid-thigh, hair done in a loose bun, makeup absolutely perfect. Her heels put her at a height taller than Bakugou, but he’s gotten used to being the shortest in their stupid posse. Doesn’t piss him off any less though.

She gets a phone call just as she pushes a tube of lip gloss into her purse.

“We are downstairs!” Inasa’s voice rings through her speaker, stupidly loud.

“Can it, baldy,” Bakugou grunts with a roll of his eyes, “we’ll be there in a sec.”

“See ya!”

Before Bakugou can usher Camie out the door, she pushes her clutch into his hands and walks over to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“Wha-“

“Liquid courage, my dude,” she says, pouring two generous shots and pushing one at Bakugou. She picks her own glass up and gives him a devilish smirk, “Bottoms up bitch!”

Bakugou picks the glass up with a resigned sigh but smirks back equally devilish. They cheers, smack the glasses against the counter and drain them smoothly. Camie puts the glasses in the sink, places a smacking kiss on Bakugou’s cheek and laughs brightly as she dances out of the way of his rage.

They finally load up in Inasa’s range rover, Todoroki plays classical Japanese music over the speakers and Bakugou regrets everything.

Riot is apparently something of a beloved establishment in its neighbourhood, and Bakugou growls when he sees how long the line leading to the bar is.

“Holy moly, that’s a lot of people!” Camie points out helpfully as she disembarks from the car.

Todoroki straightens his two-tone denim jacket and runs a hand through his hair as he says, “We have a reservation, so I think it’ll be fine?”

“Yes, I agree with you Todoroki,” Inasa beams, locking the car behind him as they walk towards the building. The outside is made of exposed brick and neon lights, and the RIOT sign is a deep red colour, eye-catching and beautiful.

They bypass the people in the line and walk up to the bouncer, who eyes them warily. He’s built like an absolute tank, broad and block-like, and his silver hair shines in the artificial light.

“Can I help you?”

“Bakugou, table for 4,” Camie says cheerily. The bouncer looks immediately enamoured with her before his eyes go wide.

“Wait, Eijirou’s Bakugou?”

Bakugou’s ears burn at that.

“I’m not fucking anybody’s!” he snaps. The bouncer immediately looks at him, and his face breaks into an even wider grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Can I see some ID real quick?”

Bakugou cusses colourfully under his breath but pulls out his license, and after a quick check, the bouncer, whose name is Tetsutetsu, steps aside to let them in.

“Have a good time!” he says happily, almost too happily. Bakugou feels his hackles rise.

“What the fuck?”

“It appears that Kirishima talks about you at least as much as you talk about him,” Todoroki observes, walking next to Bakugou.

“I don’t talk about him, fuck you!”

Todoroki’s delicately raised brow makes him want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably both.

“Fuck you all,” he reiterates before stomping inside.

Now, Bakugou is a relatively creative soul – his job kinda demands it – so it’s not his fault that he’s actually quite captivated by the interiors of this stupidly popular bar co-owned by a stupidly nice person.

The inside has exposed brick as well, and most of the furniture seems to be retro. There are large pipes and barrels behind the bar, made of what seems to be pure copper. Black marble covers the bar tops, and the lights are a mix of neon and muted whites, bright enough to see but still bathing the room in an alluring aura. There’s music thumping through the speakers, loud enough to dispel any silence but still at a bearable volume.

“Swanky,” Camie whistles, taking it all in.

Bakugou nods begrudgingly before setting his eyes on the bar.

“I’ll go get us a fucking table,” he mutters before walking over, hands digging deep into his pant pockets. He sees a lanky black-haired guy and a girl with tan skin and pink hair behind the bar, talking animatedly with the patrons as they serve them drinks at a dizzying pace.

When he finally gets a spot at the counter, the pink-haired girl finishes up with a customer and bounds over to him.

“Hi,” she greets, smile wide and happy, “haven’t seen you around before! What can I get you?”

“Kirishima,” Bakugou says because apparently, his brain to mouth filter has decided to abandon him in his time of need. The girl tilts her head in confusion and Bakugou feels the life drain out of him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m fuckin here because of dumbass Kirishima,” Bakugou barely grits out, fingers digging into his palms painfully. “The name is Bakugou, table for 4?”

He sees it all in slow-mo- the way her mouth goes slack, the way her eyes light up like firecrackers on New Year’s, and then the way her smile becomes positively blinding. He hates her already.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, “of course! So glad you’re here! Oye, Sero?”

“What?” the black-haired guy says without looking, topping up a perfectly poured glass of beer.

“You owe me 10 bucks.”

This gets his attention- he hands the drink off and looks at her, “Why would I-“

The girl just gestures at Bakugou and winks, “It’s him.”

Sero – or plain face, Bakugou’s brain helpfully supplies – immediately looks at him, his eyes widening. “Shit, seriously? Aw, man.” His smile becomes mischievous. “I’ll get Kirishima.” He opens the door behind the bar and disappears.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou snaps, beyond irritated to be so out of the loop.

“Nothing, nothing,” Pinky sings, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Kirishima will show your party to your table. Do you want anything in the meantime?”

“… a beer,” Bakugou concedes because he’s not dumb enough to not get a drink before he sees Kirishima if he can help it.

“Coming right up!”

He waits at the bar, watching as his group of dumbasses ooh and ahh at the place, looking delighted. A bottle of cold beer hits the counter with a satisfying thunk, bringing his attention back to the bartop.

“Enjoy!” Pinky still has a stupid smile on her face but before Bakugou can say anything, the door behind her is thrown open and plain face steps out.

“The restocking can wait, literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the last 3 days is finally happening.”

The guy following him is all tanned skin and thick muscles under a fitted deep red tee shirt. His hair is a bright unnatural red, pulled into a high pony with a few strands still framing his face. His eyes are a softer red than Bakugou’s own, his cheeks sharp and high, and when his eyes meet Bakugou’s, a zip of electricity races down his spine and along his limbs till he can feel it in his toes.

When the man makes his way over, Bakugou also notes how damn tall he is- easily around 6’4”. His smile is shy, and he smells like sandalwood.

“Bakugou, hi,” he breathes, hesitantly holding his hand out. Bakugou takes it in a daze, still amazed by just how stupidly beautiful this stupidly kind bar owner is.

“Heyyo, you disappeared fam, how’s it going?”

Bakugou hates everything.

He reluctantly slips his hand out of Kirishima’s warm, firm grip and turns to Camie with venomous eyes. “I literally just met him Cam, shut the fuck up.” He turns back to Kirishima, “Can you show us to our table?”

Kirishima shakes his head once before his smile turns blinding, and Bakugou finds himself fighting the urge to shield his eyes. “Of course,” he says in a voice that’s deep and warm and honey-like, “right this way!”

Bakugou snags his beer off the counter and takes a quick swig before Camie steals it and takes a few sips of her own. He growls at her but otherwise behaves, watching Kirishima’s back as he leads them through throngs of people engaged in cheerful conversation.

“Ok, well, he’s hot,” Cam says around the lip of the bottle. “Total beefcake. Whaddya think, boo?”

“I think you should fuck off,” Bakugou hisses, his face burning.

“If you wanted to go on a date, you probably shouldn’t have invited us,” Todoroki says, taking the offered bottle from Camie.

Before Bakugou can explode in their faces, Kirishima stops and turns around. “Here ya go!” He gestures to a table behind him, tucked into a more private corner of the bar. It’s large and cushy, and when Bakugou gets in after Camie, he’s surprised at how soft the material is.

“So?” Kirishima says, eyes trained on Bakugou.

“Fuckin what?” Bakugou snaps, voice lacking any heat.

Kirishima laughs, head thrown back to reveal a long, thick neck and Bakugou is so damn weak.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Bakugou clicks his tongue before gesturing at each of them, “Camie, marketing expert by day, YouTube beauty vlogger by night, pain in my ass always. Todoroki, environmental lawyer and a soba obsessed weirdo. Inasa, physiotherapist and resident dumbass.”

Kirishima gives them all a wave before saying, “Kirishima, co-owner of Riot and the reason why Bakugou saw more unwarranted penises than strictly necessary in a lifetime.”

“Asshole,” Bakugou grumbles, earning him another laugh and a bashful hand ruffling the back of Kirishima’s head.

“Still so sorry about that man,” Kirishima offers, “everything’s definitely on the house for you all! Speaking of ordering-“ Kirishima moves on to explain their ordering system-

“You can scan the code with your camera app,” the redhead says, pointing at the barcode on the centrepiece of their table, “and it pulls up our bar and food menu. Just enter your order and your table number,” he points at the large digits on the side that glows a bright 15 back at them.

Inasa pulls his phone out to order. Before he leaves, Kirishima says, “Can I get your drink order before I go?”

Camie asks for a LIIT, Inasa gets a Soju bomb and Todoroki starts off with his usual- a cosmo.

“You good on that beer?” Kirishima asks Bakugou warmly, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, sliding lower into his seat. “Maybe get me another, your choice?”

“Coming right up,” Kirishima beams before stepping away, and Bakugou’s heart splutters around his chest at the sight of sharp white teeth and cheek-aching grins.

“He’s so cute!” Camie squeals, stealing the last of his beer. “And he’s totes into you too.”

“I have to agree, he’s very attractive,” Todoroki says impassively.

“Certified hottie,” Inasa rounds up, flashing his own biceps for some reason.

Bakugou is so done, and they’ve been here all 5 minutes.

“Kirishim- Kirishima, the beer is overflowing,” Ashido says, pushing him away and taking over. “God, you’re so gone for him, it’s almost embarrassing.”

Kirishima snaps out of his stupor and moves to take the glass back. Ashido hip checks him away.

“You’re being a little stupid, go help Satou with plating and take the food to lover boy’s table.”

“He has a name, you know,” Kirishima mumbles, but Ashido simply laughs, and Kirishima feels his neck and ears go warm.

Because who let Bakugou walk into his bar looking like that? Looking so damn gorgeous in his all-black get up and his perfect eye make-up and that fierce scowl?

Kirishima’s heart had pretty much stopped at the sight of him, and it was yet to regain its usual rhythm.

The redhead rests his forehead against the wall and mumbles, “I’m so screwed.”

“We know buddy,” Sero says, patting his back sympathetically, “we know.”

For all that Bakugou hates outings and people and outings in places filled with people, he finds himself having a moderately good time.

Because the food is delicious if lacking a little heat, the alcohol is mixed perfectly and the music is fantastic, filtering through old rock classics with some alt stuff mixed in.

And then there’s Kirishima- tending the bar with ease, laughing along with his co-workers, and sending Bakugou wide, happy smiles that sets his entire face on fire.

“This place is awesome,” Camie whoops, banging another shot glass on the table before knocking it back with ease. Todoroki joins her, his impassive face not so much as twitching at the taste of strong tequila before he bites into a lime. Inasa is already beer drunk, cheeks dusky as he hums along to the music.

“Insufferable,” Bakugou mumbles around his 4th-ish beer. He likes to keep up his grumpy act till his last shred of dignity melts away cause of the alcohol, and he’s probably pretty hit already because he lets Camie pull him into her side with her arm around his shoulder, his nose suddenly privy to the scent of her mellow perfume.

“I love you guys,” Camie beams, picking up her beer and waving it in front of her. Todoroki and Inasa clink their drinks against it, and Bakugou silently waves his own bottle around before downing it.

“You guys good on- oh my god, are you Camie? THE Camie?”

It’s Pinky at their table and her eyes are so comically wide that Bakugou can’t help his snort of laughter. He feels Camie straighten up, but her arm around him stays, holding him close.

“Define THE Camie,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“The beauty blogger that I’ve only been following for the last 3 years, holy shit I love your videos.” And then suddenly, her eyes narrow on Bakugou before she snaps her fingers. “NO WONDER YOU LOOK FAMILIAR! You’re the angry blonde in all her videos!”

“Haan? You wanna go pinky?” Bakugou growls, moving to stand up. Camie keeps him firmly by her side, her laughter shaking them both.

“That’s us!” Camie says. Bakugou finally fights his way out of her grip and throws her a withering look, or his drunken attempt at one anyway. She winks, and he fake gags. “I don’t get recognized in public all that often LOL, this is fun.”

“Did you just say LOL in a verbal fucking conversation?”

“What do you mean you don’t get recognized; you literally have like 3.2million subscribers.”

Camie ignores Bakugou and shrugs at Pinky. “I guess my primary demographic aint here fam. Speaking of which,” she thrusts her hand out, “what’s your name?”

“Ashido Mina,” she says, taking her hand firmly. Camie introduces her to the others, and Bakugou looks back at the bar, disappointed to see that he can’t find Kirishima.

“Can I top you guys off?” Kirishima says, suddenly right next to their table, effectively startling the shit outta Bakugou.

Camie chirps an affirmative, Todoroki asks for a water and checks to see if Inasa’s breathing as the big olf continues to sleep, curled up in the corner of the booth.

“And you Bakubro?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bakugou frowns before adding, “I should probably stop, I’m already kinda tipsy.”

“Lightweight,” Camie teases.

Bakugou gives her the stink eye. “Woman, the one time I tried keeping up with you, I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and you didn’t have so much as a hangover, so fuck off.”

“Seriously?” Kirishima says, eyes wide.

“That’s amazing,” Ashido murmurs, her smile crooked and dangerous.

Bakugou. Hates. Everything.

“He had no lasting liver damage, we’re all fine,” Camie reassures before diving into a conversation with Mina about beauty hacks and good mascara brands and global warming.

Kirishima leans close to Bakugou, bathing him in that warm sandalwood scent. “How about I get you some water and one last beer? A Hefeweizen?”

Bakugou turns to look at him, and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how close they are, when he sees just how red Kirishima’s eyes are, how the heat seems to radiate off his skin. He exhales in a rush and looks away, answering with a jerky nod.

Kirishima gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze – he’s so warm, his hand is fucking huge – before walking to the bar and picking their stuff up.

When pinky finally meanders away from their table to serve other customers, Camie leans her head on Bakugou’s shoulder and says, “We’ll leave soon, ok?”

Bakugou nods again, leaning some of his weight back into her. Todoroki catches his eye and flashes him a warm, tipsy smile, and if he returns it with one of his own, well, he’s drunk out of his skull and has approximately no fucks to give.

Long after putting Bakugou and his posse in a cab, before which they insisted on paying pretty much the entire tab since they ate and drank a LOT, Kirishima and the rest are cleaning up when Ashido whips him with her cleaning rag.

Kirishima looks at her with betrayed eyes, “Wha-“

“Ei, you better text him again.”

“About what?” Kirishima says glumly. “I did what I said I would do, and I promised to leave him alone after that.”

“Boy please,” Ashido scoffs, roughly wiping down one of the tables, “ya’ll made such gooey eyes at each other all night, plus I’m pretty sure he paid the entire tab just so you could keep up whatever façade you guys have going on to cover up the fact that you have INSANE chemistry with one another.”

“Yeah, the tension was palpable bro,” Sero chimes in, throwing an arm around his waist. “I think you should text him too. He seemed really amusing, and his whole group was a riot.”

Kirishima rolls his eyes at the pun but smiles at them, feeling a new burst of energy in his limbs.

“You guys are absolutely right! Worst case, he blocks me. At least I won’t have any regrets.”

“Yeah boy, get it with that optimism.”

Bakugou wakes up to a slight headache, a mouth that tastes like ash, and a profound sadness that settles atop his sternum, weighing him down and pressing him into his mattress.

He sees the glass of water on his bedside table with ibuprofen placed neatly next to it and downs them both without so much as a second thought. As his brain slowly comes back online, he takes a moment to finally navigate his messy feelings and comes to a crushing realization-

Kirishima doesn’t have to text him anymore.

The redhead had said that he’d leave him alone after making it up to him, and yes, it was Bakugou’s standoffish nature that got them into that situation in the first place. And yes, Bakugou had paid the tab mostly because it was too high a bill to be footed by the bar and Bakugou made bank, but also because a small, minuscule part of him hoped that the gesture would make Kirishima insist on another outing or something to ‘make it up to him'.

The blonde doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the fact that he forgave Kirishima almost two days into texting him.

He almost avoids his phone out of fear alone and makes it through a whole cup of coffee and 3 chapters into a novel recommended by Deku before finally picking up his phone to check for emails and notifications.

He expects none from Kirishima.

So, of course, there are 3 from the redhead.

Bakugou’s heart leaps to his throat and he can’t seem to unlock his phone quite fast enough.

fuck he’s cute hi Bakugou, thank you for coming last night!!!

fuck he’s cute it was actually really cool 2 finally meet you. U didn’t have to pay the tab tho :’D

fuck he’s cute bt since u did, I still owe u. can we figure it out later??? Also, what did you think of the place???

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou you’ve got a swanky place, I’ll give you that. Food was fucking good too. could be spicier.

Bakugou you got cam completely hooked

Bakugou and yeah, you better make it up to me later. Asshole.

Kirishima replies a few hours later, just as Bakugou finishes up a yoga routine that stretches out his back in the best way possible.

fuck he’s cute :D :D :D :D :D

fuck he’s cute can’t wait

fuck he’s cute <image attached>

fuck he’s cute ruby says hi

It’s a selfie this time, not a picture of just the kitty. Bakugou can appreciate how cute the mutt is, but for once, he has no attention to spare her. Not when Kirishima’s eyes are crinkling around the edges from how hard he smiles up at the camera, not when he’s wearing a tank top with relaxed arm holes, showing off bulging muscles and hints of ink, and not when just the mere thought of him makes Bakugou’s stomach flop around uncontrollably.

He barely manages to reply coherently.

Bakugou the only bright spot in this shitty world

He presses his phone to his forehead and quietly contemplates just how gay he is. Camie pets his head on the way to the kitchen.

It takes Bakugou some time to get used to waking up to Good Morning texts and a stream of random thoughts from Kirishima all day. The flutter in his stomach disappears a few weeks into talking to the redhead, instead replaced by a bone-deep warmth that always manages to make him feel a little better.

dumbass kirishima GOOOOOOOD MORNING :D

dumbass Kirishima someone threw up on my fave shoes last night

Bakugou HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Bakugou suffer

dumbass Kirishima y u so mean to me ☹ ☹

Bakugou cause its fuckin hilarious

dumbass Kirishima ☹

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou <image attached> [it’s a picture of Bakugou’s balcony, and all his plants look vibrant green as the sun hits them just right]

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima legit felt my serotonin just spike

dumbass Kirishima thxxxxxx

Bakugou whatever

Bakuguo dumbass

---

Bakugou if I plan a murder can I count on your stupid muscles to help me move the body

dumbass Kirishima D:

dumbass Kirishima at least take me out to dinner b4 involving me in your crimes

dumbass Kirishima what a lack of manners

Bakugou stfu

dumbass Kirishima :”D :”D

dumbass Kirishima youre joking right?

dumbass Kirishima right??

dumbass Kirishima RIGHT?????

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU THIS IS A BAD TIME TO LEAVE ME HANGING BRO DO NOT DO THIS

Bakugou don’t call me bro

dumbass Kirishima THAT IS NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW

Bakugou lol I didn’t do shit dumbass don’t worry

Bakugou or did I?

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

---

dumbass Kirishima <image attached> [it’s a gym selfie; Kirishima is crouching in front of the mirror shirtless, hair pulled into a bun atop his head. He’s glistening with sweat, and he’s got a more serious look on his face. He’s not actively flexing any muscle, but the pose makes his thighs, calves and biceps bulge. One hand holds the phone, the other is resting on his bent knee]

dumbass Kirishima working on deez gainz

Bakugou what time do you usually workout

dumbass Kirishima depends on my schedule actually

dumbass Kirishima I prefer the morning, but when I take the late night shift I usually go be4 work the next day

Bakugou hmmm

Bakugou let me know

Bakugou maybe we can go together

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh I changed my mind

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima no takebacksies

Bakugou fucking fantastic

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

---

“So, let me get this straight- you guys gym together at least once a week, you talk every day, your stomach flutters at the mere thought of him and Cam swears he’s making googly eyes at you all the time, and you still haven’t asked each other out yet?”

Bakugou flips his phone off, “Fuck off Deku, don’t be a little shit.”

Midoriya’s face morphs into an amused smile on the other end of their facetime call, “Are you being bashful Kacchan? That’s adorable.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“NOOOOO,” Midoriya bemoans dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m missing all this.”

“Yeah, well, who the fuck told you to teach kids English halfway across the world dumbass?”

“I miss you too Kacchan,” Midoriya beams, making a heart with his hands.

“I truly loathe you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Midoriya puts a few papers away before sighing. “So?”

“So what?”

“So, are you going to make a move? How do you plan on doing it?”

“I don’t,” Bakugou ruffles his hair and ducks his head to hide his rapidly warming cheeks, “I’m not asking him out Deku, fuck that.”

“Why not?” the asshole whines, eyes wide and innocent. “You deserve happiness Kacchan. Plus, he seems like a really nice guy.” Midoriya leans forward and adds in a whisper, “I’ve heard he has a fantastic butt.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes and flips him off again, “Fuck off, you can’t say that without actually meeting him.”

“I’ll be back before then. You guys better be dating already when I get there.”

“Stop telling me what to do, shitty Deku!”

“Never Kacchan, that’s what you do for the people you love.”

“Ugh, how are you so gross when you’re so far away, I hate you.”

Midoriya’s laugh sounds tinny over the phone speaker, lacking its usual body and warmth. Bakugou huffs again before picking his novel back up to read.

“Hi Zuku,” Camie calls out from over Bakugou’s shoulder. “You need to come back soon and help me with Kitkat, he refuses to make the first move!”

“Butt out of my fucking love life, you freaks!”

“Can’t butt out of something that doesn’t exist Kats,” Camie deadpans.

Bakugou feels extremely justified in flinging a stress ball right at her. The kitchen fills up with raucous laughter, from his phone and from the person standing in front of him, and Bakugou thinks that adding a deeper, warmer laugh to the mix, coming from a specific redhead might not be the worst thing in the world.

Kiri bakugouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Bakugou what?

Kiri just wanted to say hi <3

Bakugou wth

Kiri we still on fr the gym tomorrow?

Bakugou obviously you dumbass

Bakugou I need you to spot me

Bakugou im beating my personal best tomorrow or im going to die trying

Kiri so manly :O :O :O

Kiri I’ve got you bruh

Bakugou don’t call me that

Bakugou and I know you do

Kiri <3 <3

---

Bakugou <link>

Bakugou that playlist you were asking about

Kiri u da bomb katsuki

Bakugou katsuki huh?

Bakugou getting cocky I see

Kiri I mean, weve known each other for like 4 months now???

Kiri ur one of my closest pals

Kiri I don’t have to, I just thought ud like it more than bro

Bakugou I do like it more than bro

Bakugou eijirou

Bakugou I guess ur not terrible

Eijirou ????

Eijirou did you just?? pay me????? A compliment??

Eijirou who r u and wat have you done to katsuki?

Bakugou fuck you

Bakugou just fuck you

Eijirou <3 <3 <3

Bakugou wakes up one morning, approximately 5 months after meeting Kirishima for the first time, with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His work goes smoothly. The coffee tastes potent and fresh, his body feels fine, his plants are thriving, Camie is busy with her own deadlines and therefore not bugging him, even the sun is mellow and warm; the perfect weather.

The pit in his stomach worsens with every hour.

It doesn’t help that all of his messages to Kirishima have gone unanswered; he hasn’t even been online all day. In the months that they’ve communicated, he’s never gone a day without texting the man, and now it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth.

When it gets closer to 6 in the evening, Bakugou decides to call if Kirishima doesn’t get in touch himself. Because the pit in his stomach is making him nauseous, and he needs to know if the redhead is ok if only for the sake of his own damn health.

He gets a call from an unknown number at 5:20 in the evening. The pit in his stomach becomes a yawning chasm as he picks up the call.

“Hello?”

“Bakugou, it’s Ashido, from the bar.”

Bakugou pulls in a deep breath. “Where is Kirishima?”

“Um, there was an incident last night, at Riot.” She sighs deeply before continuing, “Kiri got jumped in the alley outside by a bunch of really drunk homophobic assholes that saw him turn down some guy’s number. He actually fought them off for the most part, but he’s sustained a broken nose and some fractured ribs. We’re at the hospital right now.”

Bakugou sinks to the ground, his stomach plummeting with him. “Are you fucking serious right now? Fuck-“

“I’ll text you the hospital details, ok? I’m sorry we didn’t call sooner, between talking to his moms and the hospital folks, it slipped my mind.”

“I’ll be there,” Bakugou says, standing up on shaky feet and stumbling back to his room. “Just don’t leave him alone.”

“Never in a million years.”

They hang up and Bakugou changes, hails a cab, and gets to the hospital in a complete daze.

His affection for the redhead, brimming and spilling from every crevice, makes itself evident when he lays eyes on him in the hospital bed and feels a surge of protectiveness. He wants to kill the people that did this, he wants to gather Kirishima in his arms and hold him tight, he wants to crawl into bed with him and talk about stupid shit and see him smile again.

“He’s pretty high on pain meds right now,” Ashido says from somewhere behind him, pointing to his IV lines, “so he’s been saying really funny stuff. The doctors did a full evaluation and said he should recover completely in 5ish weeks.”

Bakugou nods and swallows thickly. Ashido squeezes his arm before leaving the hospital room, shutting the door behind her softly.

Kirishima hasn’t seen him yet, so Bakugou approaches his bed carefully before placing a hand on the guardrail. The noise pulls Kirishima’s attention towards him, and Bakugou’s gut tightens when those large, warm eyes go completely soft at the sight of him.

“Kassaki~” Kirishima slurs, his smile large and dopey.

“You absolute dumbass,” Bakugou chokes out, his hand moving from the rail to grip Kirishima’s tightly. Kirishima’s fingers twine with his own with practised ease and his smile turns gooey.

“Hi Kats, you look beautiful today.”

Bakugou half-laughs, half-sobs and rubs his eyes fiercely. Kirishima’s face is a bit bruised, and there’s a huge bandage on his nose, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as Bakugou had first feared. The pit in his stomach finally calms, slowly loosening until he can breathe normally again.

“Shut up Eiji,” Bakugou grumbles, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. He leaves his hand in Kirishima’s.

“Ok,” Kirishima agrees easily. It takes 10 seconds for him to break the silence again.

“Hey Kats?”

“What?”

“Are we dating?”

Bakugou startles at that, eyes snapping over to Kirishima’s. He doesn’t look accusatory or hurt or weirded out or anything- merely curious.

“No, we’re not.”

“Oh.” Kirishima frowns, “Why not?”

Bakugou huffs out a small laugh, “Because we’re both idiots.”

“Oh,” the redhead says, then nods. “That kinda tracks.”

“HEY!”

Kirishima’s smile becomes dopey again, eyes crinkling in the most endearing way.

“I really like you Kats. You’re so smart and funny and you always smell like fabric softener, and you’re just like. Really pretty.”

Bakugou feels his face heat up completely, his grip on Kirishima’s hand tightening.

“Just rest, you dumbass,” Bakugou says weakly, his entire body too hot for comfort. He watches Kirishima’s smile become something warm and loving in a way that hits his heart, and he doesn’t let go of the redhead’s hand, right up until the end of visiting hours.

When he exits the hospital alongside Ashido, he feels the last of his energy drain.

“I cant believe we didn’t get to him sooner,” Ashido mumbles, rubbing at her eyes fiercely. “The bar was noisy, and he just wanted to dump out some trash. Hanta noticed he was gone a while before we went out back and found him punching the last dude.”

Bakugou purses his lips. Truth be told, he cant believe Kirishima had gotten so badly hurt so close to his own bar, and he’s pissed as fuck that the idiot brigade had even let it happen, but the sincerity in Ashido’s voice tugs at his chest painfully.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Bakugou laughs humorlessly. “He’ll probably say there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.”

Ashido’s laugh is hollow, “That’s our Eijirou.” She looks at Bakugou again. “You coming tomorrow?”

He flashes her his best sneer. “You best believe I’m going to come by every single fucking day till he’s discharged.”

Ashido’s smile becomes a little more genuine, a little more well-rounded.

“I’m really glad he has you.” Her voice goes all soft and gross as she continues, “You mean a LOT to him, in case you didn’t already know.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou mumbles, before waving her off and walking away.

Because he does know.

He also knows he’s falling madly in love with him, and that he’s completely and utterly screwed.

And he finds that he really doesn’t mind all that much. Some people, he rationalizes, are worth the horrible butterflies and the too hot too cold feelings down the back of his spine.

Some people, he realizes, are worth loving with everything you’ve got.

It takes Kirishima five weeks of house arrest to recover completely. Bakugou spends every weekday and a few of the weekends with him, staying over more often than not. He fusses over the redhead, forces him to take his medication on time, and cooks him everything under the sun.

“You’re spoiling me,” the redhead whines when Bakugou serves him what smells like the best mapo tofu he’s ever going to have.

The blonde grins triumphantly, “You’re damn right I am.”

They bicker and banter constantly, but they also curl up and marathon old bond movies at night. Kirishima goes over the bar’s paperwork while Bakugou works off his couch, and they take turns making the coffee. Ruby falls in love with Bakugou and curls up on his chest every chance she gets, and Bakugou laughs at Kirishima’s look of betrayal. The redhead’s couch is ridiculously comfortable, and he leaves his memory foam pillow with the blonde.

“You refuse to take my bed,” he grumbles, “so you damn well better accept my stupid pillow.”

Bakugou’s neck thanks the redhead profusely.

It’s new and weird, living with someone for the first time. Kirishima’s posse are in and out through the day, and Camie comes by just as often, bringing a change of clothes and gossip with her. Todoroki drops in with some high-quality tequila sometimes and Inasa brings his infectious energy, and through all of this, Kirishima remains in high spirits, even if he goes a little stir crazy sometimes.

It’s new and it’s weird, going from casual touches to more loving ones, more comforting ones. It becomes commonplace for Bakugou to rest his head between Kirishima’s shoulder blades on the days that he has a bad time at work. It’s normal for Kirishima to place his head on Bakugou’s lap while they watch shark documentaries. It’s easy for them to bump knees and press their calves together while enjoying their morning coffee.

It’s new and it’s weird and it’s amazing.

Because Bakugou finds himself falling in love with the little things. The way Kirishima sticks his tongue out when he’s smashing the PS5 controller during an especially intense game of Mario party, the way he makes the coffee with a sleepy smile on his face, the way he hums off-key to a song that’s stuck in his head, the way he can understand Bakugou- can differentiate between his frustrated fuck, his bashful fuck, his angry fuck, his sleepy fuck.

And how he accepts it all without so much as a hitch in his step.

Bakugou watches himself fall in love, slowly, and then all at once.

“How is it that he lived with you for almost 5 weeks and you STILL didn’t ask him out? Or kiss him stupid? Or something?”

Sero has a finger pinching the bridge of his nose, the other flexing loosely in front of his chest as he tries to fathom the stupidity of two people that could not be more into each other if they tried.

“I, I uh-“ Kirishima hangs his head, “I have no excuse.” He sighs deeply. “I was scared he’d give me a pity answer cause I was injured and everything.”

Ashido looks over her shoulder with incredulous eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Eiji, I know you love us so like, if any of us were hurt like this you’d take care of us till we were better too. But do you think someone like BAKUGOU would practically move into someone’s house to make sure they were ok if he wasn’t nuts about them? Really?”

Kirishima’s face flushes, and he waves her away. “I don’t want to read into it. He’s just a really, really, really good guy. And what we have is good, it’s great! We’re bros. Pals. Friends. It’s all good.”

Ashido continues to stare at him for another moment before throwing her hands up and yelling, “BOYS!” She stomps into the kitchen to help Satou with prep for the day.

They continue to stock up the bar, Kirishima assigned to prepping limes and the ice machine, when the door opens and someone steps in.

“Sorry, we’re not op- Bakugou?”

And there stands the blonde with the biggest bouquet of flowers – chrysanthemums and sunflowers – that Kirishima has ever seen. The redhead distantly hears the sound of a door close behind him, and suddenly they’re alone, the tension positively stifling.

“Bakugo-“

“Go on a date with me.”

Kirishima sucks in a startled breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Go on a date. With me,” Bakugou repeats, his neck and ears tinging the loveliest shade of red. “The romantic kind. Where we dress up and get food and drinks and fight over the bill and walk each other to the door and get super awkward before we kiss. All that shit.”

Kirishima isn’t sure how it happens- one moment he’s on this side of the bar, the next, he’s jumping across and gathering Bakugou into a tight embrace, mindful of his newly healed ribs but still unwilling to release the blonde until Bakugou returns his hug, burying his face into Kirishima’s chest.

“Is that a yes?” Bakugou mumbles when they finally pull away, his hands fisted in Kirishima’s shirt.

“In every possible language out there,” Kirishima answers, ducking down to softly kiss Bakugou on the cheek. He laughs as the blonde cusses and shoves him away and laughs even harder when Bakugou’s own smile covers his entire face, bright and open and oh so breathtaking.

That smile is Kirishima’s and Kirishima’s alone.

Eiji hiiiiiiiiiiii

Bakugou I swear to god Ei

Bakugou if you’re late for our first date I will find you

Eiji and give me a kiss? :*

Bakugou I don’t kiss people that don’t have good time management

Bakugou so fuck off

Eiji still so mean to me ☹

Eiji I want that kiss tho

Eiji so ill be ready

Eiji promise

Bakugou good

Eiji <3

Bakugou <3

Eiji :D :D :D :D :D :D

Eiji YOU LIKE ME ENOUGH TO SEND EMOJIS HU H <3333

Bakugou it will never happen again

Bakugou so fuck right off

Eiji :”D

Bakugou im outside

Eiji be right there

Eiji <3

#bnha #kiribaku #bakushima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #flustered #boku no hero #mha #they're idiots your honor #giving out the wrong number au???#if that's a thing??????#this one's a monster y'all

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cdyssey · 3 years

Text

Regret

Summary: When Fran doesn't come down to breakfast after spraining her ankle, the whole house is concerned for her—especially Niles and Mr. Sheffield. Set after "An Affair to Dismember."

A/N: Okay, so I've binge re-watched nearly four seasons of The Nanny in four days, and had to get at least one fic out of my system, lmao.

Fran Drescher's acting in "An Affair to Dismember" when she suddenly broke while talking to Maxwell made me sensitive. ;-;

AO3 Link

—

Breakfast is a remarkably boring affair without Miss Fine bursting through the door, raising her arms in a floral robe, and proclaiming, with signature adenoidal stylings, “Good moooorning, everyone!”

The clink of silverware, the scraping of ceramic plates, the ruffling sound of Mr. Sheffield anxiously attacking the New York Times like a new Andrew Lloyd Webber play has just dropped—all of it is so terribly drab that Niles spends the first fifteen minutes of her pronounced absence coughing loudly in the hopes that his employer will pick up the hint to do something about it.

“Oh, do go get a bloody cough drop, old man,” he finally snaps, smacking his newspaper down on the table. “You’re driving me mad.”

“Sorry, sir,” Niles arches a brow as he refills Mr. Sheffield’s coffee mug. “I have asthma.”

He turns away to replace the coffee pot on the side table.

“And half a mind to kick your tetchy derrière,” he mutters under his breath.

“What was that, Niles?”

“Nothing, sir! Just saying thank you for your attentive care.”

“Dad,” Master Brighton thankfully interrupts, “where’s Fran, and what have you done to make her mad this time?”

Niles immediately turns around again in time to see his boss’s shoulders straighten in that way they often do when he’s indignant.

Or guilty.

Or some mixture of them both.

“I beg your pardon, Brighton,” he replies stiffly. “Why do you immediately assume I’m the problem here?”

“Process of elimination,” Brighton shrugs. “Fran’s not mad at me, Maggie, or Grace, and Niles is one of her closest friends.”

“You’re so astute, Master Brighton,” Niles smiles wryly as he moves to the left to get a better view of Mr. Sheffield’s face. The vein in his temple is beginning to throb, which is always a good time.

“She hasn’t dated anyone recently,” Miss Margaret pipes up.

“And she’s always fighting with her ma,” Miss Grace adds, “but that's never kept her from Belgian waffles before.”

“So, Dad,” Brighton grins, patting his father once on the back, “unless our math is wrong, that leaves you.”

“Goodness me,” Mr. Sheffield mutters, angrily stabbing a piece of link sausage with his fork. “I didn’t know I was in the presence of the lost Hardy Boy.”

“So you did do something!” Margaret exclaims.

“No! I bloody well did not, Nancy Drew. For your information, Miss Fine accidentally hurt her ankle clubbing last night with Val. I don’t think it’s broken, but I’ve called a doctor to come by just to check.”

“Tsk, tsk. And you didn’t offer to pick her up Cinderella-style and swoop her downstairs so she wouldn’t miss breakfast?” Niles asks chidingly, only to be greeted with a nasty glare.

“Yes, I did offer to bring her down to breakfast as a matter of fact... but Miss Fine seemed strangely subdued when I spoke to her through the door... I didn’t know what to make of it to tell you the truth...”

Mr. Sheffield’s brow contracts as he searches Niles’s face for an answer, and Niles stares back just as studiously, observing the profound concern in his employer’s dark eyes.

The gentleness.

The romance.

The stunningly oblivious care.

Niles sighs fondly.

Unlike Miss Babcock, he’s never had the heart to kick poor puppies when they’re down.

“I’ll bring her Advil and a fresh ice pack,” he promises. “Perhaps some pain relief will help her to regain her spirit.”

“I hope so,” Mr. Sheffield replies, self-consciously turning to his plate again, the tips of his ears rather pink. “I hate when Miss Fine isn’t feeling well.”

“Here, here,” the whole table concurs.

—

Twenty minutes later, Niles is at Miss Fine’s door with a silver tray laden with all the essentials: painkillers, an ice pack, a mug of coffee (milk instead of cream and extra sugar), and a copy of the new edition of Gloss. He lightly taps on her door with the side of his loafer.

“Miss Fine, can I come in?”

“No,” comes an immediate and sharp reply. “I’m not dressed!”

“How discouraging,” Niles sighs smilingly. “What ever shall I do?”

“Suff’a, and at least give me a minute to find a brassiere.”

“Oh, we’ll be here all day then.”

He hears a strange thud, a collection of evaluations (“dirty, dirty, slutty, Maggie’s, dirty”), and an assortment of Yiddish curse words he now vaguely recognizes from being friends with Miss Fine for nearly four years now. And then finally—

“Come in, Jeeves, but shut the door behind ya ‘cuz I haven’t applied a morning layer of lipstick yet.”

Niles elbows the knob and pushes with his shoulder until the door lights open to a peculiar sight. Far from being neat, Miss Fine’s room looks like Macy’s after its annual Black Friday sale with clothes strewn everywhere—from the dressers to the wardrobes to the floor. An empty suitcase is lying on the bed next to Miss Fine, who is sitting in bed wearing an oversized t-shirt, her injured ankle propped up on a pillow. Niles can tell, even from the doorway, that it’s red and swollen, but to his satisfaction and relief, it doesn’t appear to be broken.

“Welcome to the jungle,” Miss Fine mutters when she notices his incredulous gaze. “We got all the animals out t’day.”

“I can see that,” Niles replies, placing his tray on her bedside table and shutting the door. With his usual efficiency, he then walks back over, retrieves the ice pack, and gently places it on the affected area, frowning when she flinches.

“Mr. Sheffield said that the doctor was coming at ten,” he says as he gently lowers himself onto the bed, clasping his hands primly on top of his lap.

“Mm,” Fran grunts noncommittally, grabbing the two Advil pills and knocking them back with a swig of coffee.

“What? You’re not curious as to whether or not said doctor in question is single, Jewish, and living in a Manhattan penthouse? Miss Fine”—Niles reaches over and places the back of his hand on Fran’s head—“do you have a fever?”

“Oh, Niles,” she swats his hand away, “I’m not in the mood.”

“It’s been awhile since I’ve heard that one.”

“Niles!”

“Sorry, Miss Fine,” he withdraws his hand with a laugh. “You know I have to warm up before Miss Babcock arrives.”

“Glad to assist,” Fran quips, taking another sip of coffee, and it’s only as she closes her eyes to savor the taste, that he notices there are lines beneath her eyes from what seems to have been a sleepless night.

The smile sinks from his face.

“You know,” he says quietly, “in all of our acquaintance, I’ve never known of you to injure yourself while dancing.”

Fran opens her eyes only to immediately glance away, tapping her long nails against her mug.

“Val tripped me up when she thought she saw Elton John,” she shrugs dully. “Turns out it was just a really lifelike poster of him behind the bar...”

“I see,” Niles returns, raising a brow. “It was nice of Miss Toriello to forgo her weekend trip with her parents to come back and… boogie woogie oogie with you.”

“Dammit,” she pouts, scrunching her nose. “I didn’t think I’d told you that.”

“You didn’t. I overheard you and Miss Toriello gabbing on the phone about it yesterday morning.”

Fran can’t seem to help herself; she smiles crookedly, even as she shakes her head.

“I dunno who’s more absorbent sometimes—you or the dish sponge.”

He smiles back at her, patting her uninjured leg gently.

“Me, naturally."

"I can believe it, Chatty Cathy," she sighs.

"Now tell me, Miss Fine"—he regains his solemnity quickly, unwilling to let her deflect with jokes—"why does your room look like a tornado went through Loehmann’s?”

Her dark eyes immediately glance around the messy room, as though looking for an excuse and failing to find one.

It’s only now that Niles is sitting down, taking everything in, that he notices that most of the articles strewn about are her favorite clothing items, from her holographic Versace dress to the black tube top that Mr. Sheffield can’t pry his eyes away from every time she wears it.

“I almost did a very stupid thing, Niles,” she half-whispers, looking down into her coffee cup, her fingers tensed and shivering around the handle. “And the thing is, maybe it wasn’t really all that stupid? Maybe it was the smartest thing I could of done in a lifetime of doin’ so many stupid things.”

She pauses briefly before sardonically adding, “People included.”

Though Niles doesn’t have enough dots to connect the full picture, he has what he needs in the way of evidence to get the basic gist: Nigel being in town, the two of them going out, Nigel leaving town, the suitcase, the swollen ankle, and Miss Fine's uncharacteristic melancholy, smeared across her face so sharply that it may as well be lipstick.

He swallows thickly, suddenly grasping how close that they had all been to losing Fran forever.

“Well,” he says, making an effort to hitch an oblivious smile on his face, “isn’t it your mother who says that everything happens for a reason? It seems as though you’re right where you belong.”

“Yeah,” she snorts indelicately. “Twenty-nine multiple times over, single, and livin’ in a mansion with a man who won’t even commit to his meal orders at restaurants, much less his very available and desperate nanny.”

“Beautiful, young, and living in a mansion with three children who love you, a butler who’d be lost without you, and a man who won’t commit to his tie choices either but still cares for you deeply all the same,” Niles corrects her softly. “He was very worried for you when you didn’t come down to breakfast this morning. He didn’t even do the crossword on the Times.”

“Gee,” she rolls her eyes playfully, “how romantic.”

“Very,” Niles grins, “a modern day Romeo—emotional hangups and all.”

With that, he pats Fran again and stands up; he has no doubt that Mr. Sheffield will be calling for him soon to interrogate him as to Miss Fine’s wellbeing.

Maybe he can even get C.C. on speaker phone to rub it in her face.

“Y’know, Niles,” Fran smiles at him fondly, “if this whole Mr. Sheffield thing doesn’t work out, we should elope in Vegas in ten yea's.”

“Only if you wear this little number,” he says, bending down and picking up a black cocktail dress from the floor, folding it neatly over his arm.

“You wish you could be so lucky.”

“If we’re going to be in Vegas, anything can happen, I suppose.”

After he retrieves the silver tray from the bedside table, he bends down and kisses Miss Fine lightly on the head, his heart hurting when he notices the way that she closes her eyes beneath the gentle touch—young and vulnerable and terribly hurt by something he can’t quite fix with a well-timed witticism.

“Get some rest, Miss Fine," her murmurs against her head. "I'll check on you a bit."

“Thanks, hubby."

—

Scarcely ten minutes later, he’s down in Mr. Sheffield’s office as per usual, offering the producer a fresh cup of tea even though he had already drunk his traditional two cups at breakfast.

He insisted, though, on a third, for some excuse he couldn’t quite come up with.

And instead of coming up with an excuse, he immediately asked for all the particulars of Miss Fine’s health.

Predictable chump.

“Thanks, old boy,” Mr. Sheffield frowns, returning to his crossword, tapping the end of his pen arrhythmically against the paper. “Let me know when the doctor for Miss Fine arrives. I want to be there when he checks her over.”

“Ooh la-la-la,” Niles hums, dropping a sugar cube into the tea with a zesty plop.

Mr. Sheffield places his pen down on the desk angrily.

“Not like that… I just want to ensure she’s going to be well… you know, for the children’s sake.”

“Yes,” he sighs theatrically. “How will the children ever be able to bear their nanny having a twisted ankle?”

“Oh, shut up,” Mr. Sheffield snaps. “I don’t pay you to be sarcastic.”

“No, sir, you pay me to help you with the crossword when you’re missing three-across,” Niles smirks knowingly when he glances down at the incomplete puzzle. “What’s the hint?”

Mr. Sheffield adjusts his wire-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose before looking down again.

“A word that means feeling bad for not doing something that you should have done all along. Disappointment. A sense of shame.”

Niles straightens up with a long-suffering shake of his head.

“Oh, sir, do I really have to spell it out for you?”

#the nanny #fran fine #niles the butler #maxwell sheffield #maggie writes

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kojakaj · 3 years

Text

things i would do if i was a celebrity because i think im significantly funnier than all of them

make a depop that sells exclusively blades of grass

post videos but put a rick roll halfway through

learn a language like thai or lao that isnt’t commonly used in america just, cuz

assuming im famous as a singer, make translations of my songs only in that language or a rlly obscure one like latin or klingon

make a twitch where i just make copious amounts of pb&j’s

make an onlyfans but its just shitty memes i made

leak my own pinterest but its just thousands of pictures of frogs

do the wap dance terribly and the repost that 1 video hundreds of times on tik tok

go on omegle like a LOT

do promposals on twitter to random famous people like hillary clinton or jyp

confess to murders that just havent happened

confess to murders of famous people who have died naturally

randomly go into a convenience store in like rural nebraska for no reason and just order like normal and leave

make baked goods and mail them to fans

randomly go to people weddings

message people on instagram on my official account just saying dumb shit

fund trans ppls transitions

fill up random go fund mes

be ovERLY AGGRESSIVE abt blm/stop asian hate/climate change/bunch of other stuff

make an ao3 where i only write smut for like, sonic or mario or obscure animes or like charlie chaplan

find fanfics other people have written abt me and read them aloud on twitch or smth

go on dating apps but set that ages to like 60+

do covers of meme songs like super sonic electronic (an absolute bop btw)

ask out other celebrities for no reason really elaborately and either make out with them on the spot if they say yes or perform another terrible song abt heartbreak right after

flirt with, not the fans, but their confused parents

ok i understand celebrities cant do a lot of this for genuine reasons but most of it is just funny and i think more celebrities should just act absolutely batshit for the hell of it

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that-tall-queer-bassist · 3 years

Text

My personal Pros and Cons of my ADHD

Pros

-noticing all the little details and appreciating them in the fullest

-Emotional Dysregulation, because when I get a new plant, or find that one oddly shaped metal marble I lost a while ago, I am so excited it’s pathetic, but I love that feeling of pure joy.

-hyperfixation of the week/day/hour (i know some people describe it differently, let me be pls) . I usually switch between art mediums, and/or a few video games/social media sites. for example, I’ve been on tumblr for 3 hours as i write this, after not touching it for, i think a month?

-nuerodivergent friends. They’re just better.

-the ability to completely drown myself in information to ignore reality. Is it healthy? no. But i simply cannot handle another existiential crissi rn, so i will instead play minecraft while listening to alt rock playlists on youtube because getting spotify sounds like a lot of work.

-my ability to retain absolutely useless information, from either my, or my other nuerodivergent friends hyperfixations/special interests. I can explain to you in terrible formatting if it’s out loud, the evolution, history, training, anatomy and roles of the horse in our world, and how ao3 works, and what makes or breaks a fanfiction.

-Object Impermanence. When i literally hide myself a treat or surprise and forget about it, then get so excited when i do find/discover it again. I hide google questions, and/or song lyrics in my tabs :) its so fun. Also, hiding away stressors. Again, healthy? no, but i don’t feel like having anxiety all day, so whatever.

-Emotional Dysregulation, again. I can switch from sad or angry to happy and excited/content in a few seconds. It’s also great for getting my siblings out of their funk. ex., my sister is mad at me. I make a silly voice repeating what she said or cross my eyes at her. she laughs, then we can talk and have constructive conversation about why she shouldn’t get that upset about me “cutting off her reading time” when we share a room and I want to sleep, and know that she will be very tired tomorrow if she doesn’t also go to sleep. (We have this conversation almost every single night, i’m not even joking)

Cons

-Emotional Dysregulation. When i get upset, I’m Upset. Like, big time, ruining friendships and familial ties if i let it get out of hand, Upset. Yeah.

-Time Blindness. Constantly late, or early, or under or over estimating the amount of time it takes to do a thing, not eating til 4 because you forgot but you also should just wait til dinner, but now its 9 and I still haven’t eaten-

-Executive Dysfunction. I can’t do the things needed to function. Don’t have the mental energy to explain this one, so google it i guess? There’s a whole checklist of things you need to be able to do to function, and i can do like, three on a good day.

-Sleeping Trouble. People with adhd have trouble falling asleep, staying asleep, and waking up. So, sleeping trouble. So I’m constantly tired.

-Internal Clock is SLIGHTLY OFF. Nuerotypicals have that normal sleep schedule. Adhd ers have it shifted forward by, i think, 2, 3 hours. So we go to sleep later, and wake up later, and that’s the only way to get a healthy amount of sleep. My entire family also eats dinner super late, which might be because we’re weird, but I suspect the inner clock thing cuz we all got adhd.

-Object Impermanance. I hid my math homework one time. I failed that class.

-Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. Never trying, or starting cuz I’m so terrified to get a bad reaction. Constantly masking around certain people to appeal to the few of my Nuerotypical friends. Or, y’know, majority of my extended family. They’re ableist. and homophobic. And transphobic. And racist. and sexist. The list goes on, but, yeah. Never coming out to them! :D

-Masking. It’s exhausting and I can only handle so much of it.

-Not Masking around nuerotypicals. The shoot down after finally revealing my true thoughts, urges, feelings, stims, etc. just sucks. Super disheartening.

-Squirrel or shiny jokes when they’re made by people without adhd. Yes, I do get distracted by squirrels, and shiny things, and dice. Stop pointing it out, and/or putting me into yet another box of your labeling.

-saying that I’m lazy, worthless, or a disaster when really it’s not helping. I already have that internal monologue, you adding to it and giving it some truth/extra ammunition is not. helping.

-Emotional Dysregulation. Again, because mood swings. like, I’m trying to be rightfully angry with you. Stop making me laugh with you’re silly faces or pointing out of a weird face someone made in a picture you took.

-the stigma about the hyperactive subtype. I’m inattentive. I have No Energy. Ever. Sometimes i have restlessness, but there is still no energy. Stop portraying me as bouncing off the walls, especially with caffeine. Caffeine just catches my body speed up to my brain speed, settling me down a bit, at least mentally.

-people not getting when i say I’m overstimulated, or need some time alone to process or re-energize, and following me, or continuing to do the overstimulating thing. I will literally. lose. my. mind.

-when people shut me down after I share something that is really important to me, or make fun of me for liking something an “abnormal” amount. Flashbacks to overnight camp, when whenever I said anything about horses, they said I had to do five squats, and when i got really excited about discussing the differences in riding styles/types with another person who really liked horses, but rode english, they said that it was obnoxious, when i was just.. excited to finally find someone to talk to and who felt the same way after, basically, years and years of no one getting it or wanting to listen or talking with me about the thing. To this day I don’t discuss horses with anyone, cuz it hurts so much remembering that, and the fear of it happening again is still there.

-seeing other people be ashamed about their adhd and hesitant to mention until i talk, like, super openly about having it, in like, the first 5 minutes of knowing each other. It just.. hurts.

-I’m super empathetic, not in a way that’s helpful though. Like, wincing, or limping myself because I saw you drop something on your foot, and am imagining it so vividly that it feels like it happened to me. Reading a fic about abuse or depression, and it hitting too hard and hurting me almost physically, and on a personal level because I simply cannot handle it. Feeling someone else’s pain so vividly that i can’t comfort or help them in any way, because I am so preoccupied with feeling their pain.

-never being able to finish things without starting something else. All the WIPs in my google docs, istg, i will be driven insane by it.

(y’know, this was kinda fun. As a rant, but also as a way for me to identify things about myself and my adhd that i like. Like, I know its so much shorter, but I have a hard time with positive self affirmation, so it was kinda nice. I might do it again, but just the pros part cuz the cons are kinda depressing ngl.)

(OH, Y’all should reblog with your own personal pros added on! You can add cons if you’d like to :) I’m just interested in seeing how your experiences/feeling differ from mine :) )

#adhd #adhd life #executive dysfunction #positive affimation #but it's only the begining ig #i might delete positive affirmations #idk #pros and cons #pros and cons of my adhd #nuerodivergent #nuerodivergent friends are the best #i will elaborate at some point #I've been on tumblr too long

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gloriainalbis · 4 years

Text

Strangers

Part 2 - Anti-Social Behavior (S1E1)

Nathan Young x Reader Words: 6.2k Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, drugs, gore, death Songs: Beat on the Brat - Ramones Shoplifters of the World Unite - The Smiths (And also, for shits and giggles…) Somebody Got Murdered - The Clash

“So we will share this road we walk And mind our mouths and beware our talk”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Ao3

The walk to the community center for your second day is brisk but significantly more enjoyable than being forced to listen to your father’s chastising. As you approach the group gathered by a new swath of graffiti on the side of the building, a window opens to your left and out climbs Nathan, who jumps to the ground and winces as the roll-up metal covering slams back down after him. “Nathan?” you ask, stopping in your tracks. “Ah!” He whips around to greet you with a guilty smile, clearly surprised. “Y/n! Good morning, I hope?” He starts walking with you to join the rest of the group. “Yeah, but what are you doin’ here?” “I have my reasons,” he explains vaguely, stretching his arms up and groaning as if he’s just gotten out of bed. He then pulls out a cigarette and sticks it between his teeth, completely failing to notice the giant red letters spelling out ‘I’M GOING TO KILL YOU’ as you walk past them.

“This is a joke,” Curtis exclaims as you approach. “Did one of you do this?” He turns to look at you especially, and you suspect he overheard you yesterday telling Nathan and Kelly how you got your ASBO. “Hey, I’m all for street art and everything, but death threats aren’t really my scene.” “Death threat?” Nathan spins around until he sees the words. “Oh, well would you look at that!” He turns back to the group, glancing at each of you as if looking for an explanation. “Don’t look at me, ‘cuz I didn’t do it,” Kelly snaps at him. “I’ll tell you who did it, it’s that Banksy prick,” he offers. Alisha rolls her eyes, as do a few of the others. “There’s a hidden meaning. It’s like that monkey policeman with the banana and the Tesco’s bag.” “Maybe someone wants to kill us,” Simon speaks softly, looking uncomfortable at Nathan, who’s put an arm around him for some unknown reason. “Why would anyone want to kill us?” Kelly points out. You assume the threat was directed at the community center, not at you six specifically, but don’t really care to speak up. You’d probably be spending the day cleaning it off, so what does it matter who it’s meant for? “Come on, you lot, let’s get changed,” Tony directs, walking up suddenly. “Have you seen this?” Curtis points to the graffiti. Again. “Someone’s takin’ the piss.” “Yeah, it’s terrible, isn’t it? All this anti-social behavior.” Tony turns to look at you all suggestively. “Oh, is he having a dig at us?” Nathan smirks, mumbling through his cigarette. Alisha’s phone begins to ring and Tony jumps, instantly bursting with anger. “Right! That’s it, all of you, just give me your phones! No one’s making any more calls today. Now, come on!” He turns to Alisha first. “Uh-huh,” she scoffs. “Are you allowed to take out phones?” He grabs it out of her hands regardless as she giggles and snaps a picture of him. Kelly and Alisha lock eyes and snicker. Curtis gives his phone up willingly, Kelly tries to ignore him, but Tony grabs it out of her pocket, and Simon gives his up as well. He turns to Nathan. “I’m expecting a call from my mum,” he tries to reason, but Tony rips it from his hand. Nathan gapes at him, affronted. “Okay, take a message.” Then Tony turns to you. You make a point to look him in the eyes and raise your eyebrows to distract him as you press your phone into Nathan’s hand. You see him glance at you in confusion before catching on and pocketing it. “Haven’t got one,” you explain casually, holding up your empty hands. You can swear Tony growls as he reaches out to feel your pockets. “Damn, is that even legal?” you half-whisper. To your right, Nathan bites his lip to keep from smiling and giving you away. It works. Tony huffs and lumbers back to the community center. Curtis flips up his hood and follows suit. “Wanker,” Kelly sneers as she strolls past Tony. Nathan watches to make sure they leave. “That was brilliant!” He gushes as soon as Tony’s out of earshot, handing you your phone. “It was nothing,” you brush off, starting to follow behind the others. “You can use it to phone your mum if you’d like.” “Oh, no, that’s alright.” He looks away, staring at his feet as he walks. “Are you sure?” you ask. You hadn’t snuck the phone past Tony only for him, but it was, you know, a good upside. And you aren’t sure what other opportunities he would have to use it, now that Tony thought he’d taken all the phones. “Yeah, she won’t call.” You can tell that he’s trying to sound like he doesn’t care. But, you’re learning this quickly, Nathan isn’t exactly the best liar. “I won’t ask.” You wonder what the situation is, but don’t want to pry. Nathan smiles. Back at the locker rooms, everyone begins changing into their jumpsuits. Alisha situates herself in front of the mirror and begins to fiddle. She pops up her collar, undoes the top few buttons of her jumpsuit, and combes at her hair, fluffing it up. Kelly, having already changed, is lighting what looks to be either a hand-rolled cigarette or a blunt. “Is he allowed to take our phones?” Nathan muses. “He’s probably using them to call one of those sex lines.” Alisha giggles. “Those sex lines will eat your credit,” Curtis comments. “Call them a lot, do you?” Alisha raises an eyebrow. Kelly passes her the cigarette and she watches herself take a few draws from it in the mirror. Nathan continues with his disturbing ruminations, “He’s out there feeling himself on our phones, naked, masturbating.” “Now why would he do that?” Curtis questions, quite sensibly. “Because he can,” Nathan responds. “That’s quite the image,” you groan, trying desperately not to imagine it. “Oh, I’ll give you an image.” Nathan winks, pulling off his shirt. You roll your eyes and look away, leaning against the door of your locker. Glancing to the back of the room, you wonder where Simon’s run off to. You thought you’d seen him standing by the buckets a few moments ago. “Do you want some of this?” Alisha holds out the cigarette, tucked between her blue manicured fingers, to Curtis, who refuses. “Give it here, come on,” Nathan says as he walks past her and she hands it to him. As you grab a bucket and follow him out, you notice that he has crossed the ‘pay’ from ‘community payback’ on the back of his jumpsuit to make it say ‘community blowback’ instead. You smile and chuckle to yourself. Curtis appears to be the only one actually trying to remove those giant red letters from the wall, scrubbing determinedly while the rest of you just sort of brush at them and hope they disappear. Alisha isn’t even working. She’s unzipped and removed the entire upper half of her jumpsuit to reveal a bikini top and is sunning herself on a nearby table. “Yeah, you just relax, innit? Take it easy,” Curtis grumbles. “Someone’s just going to write something else on there tonight,” she retorts. “They make us do these bullshit jobs, wearing these bullshit orange jumpsuits. They can suck my dick.” You have to admit, she has a point. “Nice,” he looks her up and down and smirks coquettishly. “Feel free to check out my tits, yeah,” she encourages, blowing a kiss and looking down at him smokily from behind her lowered sunglasses. You look back at your designated section of furiously bright red paint. Wishing it would just go away, you lean down to get more soap on your brush, and when you stand back up, your section of the wall is spotless. You stumble backward, bewildered. “Guys?” you gape, trying to catch their attention, pointing to the bare wall. But when everyone turns to look, it’s gone back to normal, the bold lettering mocking you. “What?” Kelly asks, scrunching up her face in what looks like confusion and concern. You rush back to the wall, running your fingers across the paint, and they come back dusted with red. It’s real. “I-” everyone looks at you like you’re crazy, and they’re probably right. “It’s nothing.” A few moments later, Kelly stops scrubbing. “You know after the storm, did any of you feel like dead weird?” She sounds serious. “Yeah. I had a strange tingling sensation in my anus,” Nathan quips. You roll your eyes and turn to her, “I think I’ve been seein’ things,” you admit. “Yeah, I’ve been hearin’ shit,” she agrees before spinning around to address Simon, seemingly out of the blue. “What, did you feel weird?” “You don’t want to hear about my anus?” Nathan calls, clutching his hands to his butt. “Do you really need to ask the question?” you hear Curtis say from behind you. You shove Nathan and turn back around to pay attention to Simon and Kelly, ignoring his cry of indignation. “Something happened,” Simon begins quietly. “What’s that? Squeak up!” Nathan chides. “Something happened to me,” he repeats louder. “Are you a virgin? Hi-hoooooy!” Nathan jokes, and you contemplate punching him again. Kelly does it for you, turning to yell, “Shut up!” which effectively shuts him down, before returning to Simon. “What was it?” He gulps and you can see the nervousness churning behind his eyes. “It’s nothing.” Kelly scrunches her face up and scowls, running past you to shove Nathan. “What was that for?” he calls after her. She turns to you as she goes, “Didn’t you hear that? It was disgustin’.” You hadn’t, and you have no idea what she’s referring to. So you shrug at Nathan, who looks suitably chastened, and return to your scrubbing. Later, you’re all starting to congregate around the couches in the main entrance hall. Kelly still hasn’t returned, but the letters are mostly gone and you’re all angling for a break. Alisha is taking up an entire couch section to herself, sitting sideways with her feet up, and Simon is sequestered in the alcove of a doorway. You’re sitting on a larger couch across from them, watching Nathan beat up a vending machine to try and get a free soda. He holds one up, triumphant, as you slow clap and he takes a bow. Curtis walks up with a stack of empty buckets under his arm. “When I was in sixth form, you came to my school. You gave this big talk about athletics and all your medals and that.” Alisha says to Curtis with a tone that entreats him to elaborate on his story. Nathan rolls out behind him in a wheelchair, soda in hand, “So I’m guessin’ you’re not going to the Olympics.” “Funny,” Curtis snaps sarcastically at the obvious jab. “I heard he was dealing crack,” Alisha chimes with a quirk of her eyebrow. Curtis scowls. “What? I wasn’t dealing crack.” “No, no, the papers said it was steroids,” Nathan adds, opening his soda with a hiss. “That stuff with shrivel your dick,” Alisha lies down on her seat. Curtis takes a few steps forward, looking at them insistently. “It wasn’t steroids. I’m not a cheat. That stuff in the papers was bullshit.” “Yeah? So what was it, then?” Alisha presses. Nathan raises his eyebrows. Curtis takes a few hesitant seconds to reply. “I got caught with a little bit of coke. Alright? I messed up one time.” “No one gets community service for possession,” Alisha holds her arms up, asking him to explain. He scoffs. “If it was anyone else, they’d have got a caution. I get two hundred hours community service and a two year back from athletics. They said, ‘cuz of my profile, they needed to send a message.” You feel bad for Curtis for being treated differently because of his success. It doesn't seem fair, bringing someone so far down when they’d come so far and were so close to reaching their goals. “You let yourself down,” Nathan taunts, grinning deviously. Your eyes widen, wishing he had kept his mouth shut. “You let the kids down. You let your parents down-” Curtis fumes and stews in silence before suddenly bursting, launching forward at Nathan “Shut the fuck up! All I ever did was train! You know nothing! I shouldn’t even fuckin’ be here!” If only Nathan could just shut up for one second. “You can’t hit someone in a wheelch-” Nathan’s eyes flash wide open as a piece of duct tape appears over his mouth. Alisha and Simon sit up straighter, pulled to attention. You sit there horrified, realizing that for the first time that you definitely aren’t the only one seeing this. Nathan points to Curtis in accusation. “It wasn’t me, mate.” He holds his arms up, taking a few fearful steps back. You feel sick to your stomach, too frozen in place to say anything. Nathan lets out a muffled scream and tries to pull off the duct tape, scrambling at it with his fingers. It crumbles into his hands like dust before disappearing completely. You let out a huge sigh of relief, but your heart continues to thump away in your chest. “Who was that?” Nathan yells, jumping out of the wheelchair, which rolls backward until it hits the wall. You gulp. “I- I think I did it?” “Well, what the fuck for?! And how?” He rears on you, anger and confusion written plainly on his face. “I have no idea,” you admit honestly. Alisha scoffs and giggles, somehow finding the situation funny. “Do you wanna know what I got done for?” “Not really,” Nathan remarks, turning his head to glare at you before plopping himself back down in the wheelchair. That sends a pang of guilt through your chest. You don’t really know what you did, or how you did it. Alisha motions for you to come closer and you all gather to sit in audience before her, “Me and my mate Chloe, we’re having cocktails in this bar, yeah? An’ she’s hassling me, ‘cuz she wants to go to this party. Chloe is on one because she thinks Jack is doing Lucy. A total slut fuck. So we get in my car. I drive us to the party.” “Nathan?” you whisper, poking his arm to get his attention. “We go into one of the rooms, yeah? Jack’s not doing Lucy, he’s doing Ellie. She is a proper slut.” “What?” He still looks pissed. “I’m sorry. Something really weird’s going on.” You hope he believes you, he seems pretty fun, if a bit vulgar, and you aren’t even sure of how you’d screwed it up. “Chloe freaks. I’m driving us back into town. Chloe’s all like ‘Oh, I feel sick.’ I’m like ‘Don’t puke in my car. Do not puke in my car.’” “Alright.” He gives you a small smile. “Really?” You didn’t think it would be that easy, but maybe he remembered what Kelly said earlier. “That’s when the police pull us over. I’m already banned from driving, so I am like ‘Fuuuck.’” “Yeah, no hard feelings.” He reaches down to ruffle the top of your hair, weirdly enough, but it fits pretty well with what you know of Nathan so far. “This cop, yeah? He hands me the breathalyzer and I’m like ‘Do I suck, or blow?’” Alisha runs her tongue along the bottom edge of her water bottle before licking the cap and putting her lips around it, slowly working up and down. “It’s insane, I’m totally workin’ it, yeah?” She licks up the bottle’s side before sticking the entire top in her mouth again and bobbing her head back and forth, in and out, pursing her lips as she picks up speed before slowly and carefully pulling it back out. “Now, I don’t know if this cop is gay or what, but he tells me I’m four times over the limit. It’s bullshit. I didn’t even want to go to the party.” You’re a little grossed out, but all the boys are gaping at this point. Just then, the front doors fly open with a bang and Kelly tumbles into the room, scrambling to her feet to lock it, screaming, “He’s gonna kill us!” You scramble backward before jumping up from your seat on the floor. Nathan spins around in his chair, clapping. “Nice entrance. Very dramatic.” But Kelly looks distraught and shaken, and you don’t think she’s exaggerating anything. “The probation worker’s gone mental. He just attacked me! Something really weird is happening. I’m hearin’ these voices. It’s like I can hear what people are thinking!” she explains hastily. “Have you been sniffing glue?” Alisha scolds, tilting her head to the side in mock sympathy. Kelly raises her voice, practically yelling in desperation, “The storm, the lightning! It’s done something to us!” “Okay,” Nathan speaks up. “If you can hear our thoughts, what am I thinking now?” “You think it’s bullshit?!” Kelly exclaims. “‘Course I think it’s bullshit!” he snaps back. “You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that.” “Why are you in a wheelchair?” she asks tentatively, just now noticing it. “It was the storm!” You roll your eyes as he messes with her. “The strange tingling sensation in my anus has spread to my body and now I can’t feel my legs.” She realizes he’s joking and kicks him “I’m serious!” “Ow! Jesus!” You decide to take a gamble at something. Kelly, you think, the storm did something to me too. “What, you, too?” She asks, turning to face you. “Yeah,” you nod. “It happened just a few minutes ago. I wanted Nathan to shut up and then duct tape just appeared over his mouth. And it happened with the graffiti earlier, I wanted it to disappear, and then it did, for a second.” Her eyes light up and she turns to the rest of the group. “See? I ain’t lyin’!” “Well then, what do you mean the probation worker attacked you?” Curtis takes a few steps towards her. Alisha doesn’t believe either of you, “This does sound like complete shit.” “He’s out there and he chased me!” She insists, frantically pointing to the door. “Something’s happened to me, too,” Simon speaks up. “Did you pop your cherry?” Nathan teases, still not taking any of this seriously. “Oh, we’re all very happy for you!” Simon ignores him and addresses everyone else. “Earlier on, when we were in the locker room… I was invisible. I turned invisible.” “So she’s psychic, you can make hallucinations or whatever, and you can turn invisible?” Curtis speaks, trying to make sense of everything. He chuckles. “Yeah, that seems likely.” “Did anyone witness this miraculous disappearance?” Nathan questions, leaning forward in his chair. “Yes!” you exclaim, turning to Simon. “You were standing by the buckets and then you weren’t! I wondered where you’d run off to.” Simon nods, spurred on by your admission, “You were all there.” Alisha scoffs, still not convinced, “I think we might have noticed you vanishing into thin air.” “I was standing right there and you couldn’t see me,” he insists, a sad, almost betrayed look crossing his face. “Alright.” Nathan puts on a determined look and wheels over to Simon. “Go on, then. Do it. Turn invisible.” Simon tenses and grunts, trying to force it. You glare at Nathan for putting him on the spot like this, and you feel a pang of guilt for generally encouraging his antics. “Oh, my god!” Nathan exclaims. “He’s disappeared!” You roll your eyes and groan, feeling worse by the second. Simon, however, seems to believe him, holding out a hand in front of Nathan’s eyes. “Can’t you see me?” “No,” Nathan gasps before throwing his empty soda can at Simon’s head and proclaiming, “you’re invisible!” “You prick! What’d you do that for?” you ask, miffed, but he ignores you. “You all are hilarious, really. Keep taking that medication.” He starts wheeling towards the door, but Kelly jumps in front of him and grabs his armrests. “Don’t go out there, he will kill you!” she yells. “Of course he will, ‘cuz he’s such a badass,” Nathan retorts sarcastically. “Don’t!” She screams, with angry and fearful tears in her eyes. Curtis just walks past her to the door, scoffing in disbelief, “Come on, this is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.” “No!!” Kelly shrieks, throwing Curtis out of the way as the door swings open. You hear a bellowing roar as a metal tube flies through the open door and into Kelly’s head, spraying streams of blood up and down the wall beside her. “Kelly!” you cry in shock. Her expression slackens and her eyes go blank as she slumps against the wall and tumbles to the floor, dead. Tony bursts into the room with a sharp, red-stained tube in his hands. Another scream tears at your throat as you feel a hand on your arm, Nathan’s, pulling you away and setting you running down the hall. . . . . . “Can’t you see me?” Simon gasps, holding out a hand in front of Nathan’s eyes and appearing to believe him. “No,” Nathan gaspes before throwing his empty soda can at Simon’s head and proclaiming, “you’re invisible!” “You prick! What’d you do that for?” you ask, miffed, but he ignores you. “You all are hilarious, really. Keep taking that medication.” He starts wheeling towards the door, but Kelly jumps in front of him and grabs onto his armrests. “Don’t go out there, he will kill you!” she yells. “Of course he will, ‘cuz he’s such a badass,” Nathan retorts sarcastically. “Don’t!” She screams, with angry and fearful tears in her eyes. Curtis jolts forward, fear gripping his expression “She’s telling the truth.” Nathan looks absolutely delighted. “And you know this how? I suppose you’re psychic now, too?” Curtis’ entire demeanor has completely shifted. He’s breathing heavily now out of shock or fear, or because of something you can’t quite understand. He speaks urgently and uneasily, “All this. It’s already happened once. I opened the door, the probation worker, he killed you.” He points to Kelly. “You were right there. You were dead. Everything froze. You were all just standing there. Time went backwards.” “What are you saying?” Alisha pipes up. “What, you turned back time?” Nathan rises from his seat, eyeing Curtis curiously, “This just gets better by the second.” He strides to the door. “Everything happened again, exactly the same. I’m telling you, don’t open that door!” Curtis insists, following after him. You run. “Nathan, no!” you scream, reaching the door just as he puts a hand on it. A giant lock and chain appears around the handles. He gives you an odd glance before yanking the door open regardless, and the chains turn into dust and disappear. You couldn’t see what he was looking at, but an expression of terror sweeps across Nathan’s face and he closes and locks the door in a flurry of jittery movements. “He’s right, the probation worker’s gone mental!” he gasps. Tony slams into the other side of the door and your heart leaps out of your chest. You only catch a glimpse of his hulking, dark frame silhouetted against the frosted glass before Nathan shrieks and pulls you away to join the rest of the group, who are all standing together. “Maybe he’s on crystal meth,” Alisha tries to reason, but the waver in her voice gives away her fear. “I mean, that stuff makes you crazy. My friend Chloe did it, she nearly shagged her brother. And he’s really ugly” “Enough about Chloe!” you exclaim. “It sounds like she’s made some really poor life choices and I’d rather not follow in her footsteps!” Simon gasps, realizing something, “The graffiti. ‘I’m going to kill you,” he wrote it.” “What did I say? I said there was a hidden meaning! Or not.” Nathan retorts. Realizing his hand is still clasped around your arm, he drops it awkwardly and looks away. “Did anything happen to you?” Kelly asks, turning to face Alisha. “No, we should call the police!” she suggests adamantly. Simon shakes his head. “He took our phones, he’s got all our phones.” Nathan turns to look at you and you smile, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “Well, not all of them.” You hold it up for the rest of the group to see, turning it on to find- “Fuck! I don’t have reception in this shithole.” “Let’s get out of here, then,” Curtis offers. “Out the back way, come on!” Nathan calls, moving down the hall and motioning for everyone to follow him. But as he turns the corner, he slips, crying out and falling to the floor with a loud squelch and a squeak. Nathan is sprawled on the floor in a pool of thick, stagnant blood. Your stomach churns as you try to keep yourself from retching. “Is that blood?!” Kelly screams. Realization washes over Nathan and he scrambles to his feet, “Oh, fuck! Jesus Christ!” He gapes at the dark red smears coating his hands and gags, wiping them desperately on his jumpsuit. “Get it off me, Jesus!” It’s then that you notice the locker. Blood oozes from each vent and out onto the tile below, trickling down the front of the door like a morbid waterfall. Curtis approaches carefully before gingerly opening the door. Gary’s smashed in head lurches forward and you all jump, screaming as it lolles back and forth. His jumpsuit is stained red in various gruesome places and his body is sitting at odd, gut-wrenching angles in the tiny locker. Blood has dripped down from his ears, nose, and mouth, and predominantly from a gaping, disgusting wound on the left side of his neck. “It’s Gary,” Simon murmurs. “I did wonder what had happened to him,” Nathan mumbles, inching closer and peering at the contorted, lifeless form before you. It is undoubtedly the worst thing you have ever seen, but you can’t take your eyes off of it, the horror is all-encompassing. “He’s gonna kill us,” Alisha whispers, on the verge of tears. “Turn back time,” Nathan says to Curtis. “Stop this happening.” “I don’t know how it works!” He exclaims frantically. “Oh, that’s great, that’s really useful!” Nathan chides. Curtis ignores him, instead turning to comfort Alisha “Come on, don’t look at him.” You wish the body would disappear, and some dark sheets appear to cover everything. You know it’s temporary, but you just want to be able to look away. Curtis puts his hand on Alisha’s arm and gasps. “I’ve got to have sex with you right now! You’re so beautiful.” He grabs her shoulder and pulls her closer to him. “What’s up with him?” Nathan calls in confusion. Alisha is screaming and trying to pull her arm out of Curtis’s grip. “Let’s go, let’s do it now!” He reaches his hand into his pants and you turn away, disgusted. Your mind screams at you to do something, to pull him off of her, but you have no idea what’s happening and you freeze. “Get off me, you freak!” Alisha finally yanks her arm out of his grasp and stumbles back. “What?” Curtis asks, completely unaware of what just occurred, of what he said and tried to do. Alisha reels back an arm, preparing to slap him. He grabs it out of the air and his skin touches hers again, suddenly groaning in a way that makes your skin crawl. “You’re so hot! I’m gonna bone you, I’m gonna shag you senseless!” “Let go!” she yells, stumbling backward out of his grip. The look on her face is confused and horrified, and a thousand other emotions you had hoped never to see on anyone you knew. “What did I do?” Curtis asks. Kelly speaks up, “Uh, you said you were gonna shag her?” “And you were gettin’ your chap out,” Nathan points. “Shut up!” Curtis gasps, messing with the waistline of his pants. “It’s when you were touching her,” Simon realizes. Alisha looks down at her shaky hands before reaching to touch the side of Simon’s neck. He jerks up, gasping. “I’m so hard for you. I want to rip your clothes off and piss on your tits,” Simon growls. Alisha rips her hand from him and jumps back. “What is happening to me?!” She cries. Nathan turns to Simon, looking amused and mildly disgusted, “You sick bastard!” Suddenly, the door behind you caves in, sending shards of glass flying in every direction. Tony falls through, bringing parts of the broken door frame with him as he tumbles to the floor. You hear Nathan yell in surprise as he backs away, getting as far from Tony as possible. You go the other direction, stupidly pinning yourself against one of the remaining glass doors. Tony snarls and reared on you, raising himself onto his knees before climbing to his feet. Your shriek is lost in everyone else’s screams, but then Kelly jumps in front of you from seemingly nowhere, brandishing a paint can in one hand. She swings it at Tony and it slams into his head with a sickening thunk. He collapses back to the floor, motionless. “What did you do?” Nathan gasped after a few shockingly silent seconds, genuinely horrified. The side of the paint can was caved in and smeared in red. There was a hole in Tony’s head that blood had begun to spill from. You whimpered and stumbled away from him, keeping as close to the wall as possible before leaving it to shuffle past the locker that held Gary. “Is he dead?” Alisha asked in a high pitched whisper. Nathan speaks up, “Well, I’m no doctor, but… You see the way the back of his head’s caved in like that?” Suddenly, Tony roars and grasps at Kelly’s leg, which is only a few feet from him. You jump back and feel an arm wrap around you and turn your head away from the quickly escalating scene of horror. Kelly reacts immediately, tearing her leg from his grip and bringing it down on his head, over and over again in a chorus of appalling splinters and squelches. “That should do it,” Nathan speaks as he lets his arms fall from your shoulders, his voice creaky with distress. “You killed our probation worker,” Alisha gasps, turning to Kelly. Kelly shakes her head slightly in shock. “This is very, very bad.” Nathan runs his hands through his hair. Alisha gags, looking away from Tony’s corpse. “Oh, I feel sick.” “He would have killed us!” Kelly reasons, insecurity and fear worming its way into the warble of her voice. “We should call the police. It was self-defense,” Curtis suggests, echoing Alisha’s words from only a few minutes ago. But while that was your original plan, it was now entirely out of the question. “Yeah,” Alisha agrees, “yeah, he’s right. We show ‘em the dead boy in the locker. They’ll do some CSI shit and figure it all out.” “They won’t believe us!” Kelly cries, and you suspect she’s right. “We just tell them the truth. We stick to our story,” Curtis persists. “What’s our story?” she asks, exasperated. “That he can turn invisible and she can conjure illusions and you can turn back time?! It doesn’t matter what we tell them, they’ll say we’re lying. They’ll say that we killed ‘em both! No one’s gonna believe you, not anymore.” She’s right. You know she’s right, deep in your being, in your bones, and you hate it. You hate how true it is, how messed up and unfair it is. “If there’s no body, there’s no crime,” Simon mutters anxiously. Everyone turns to look at him. “We should bury them under the flyover.” “Yeah? How do we do that? Someone’s gonna see us,” Alisha points out. You’re grateful for that, honestly. You’re all so distraught right now, you might have actually just walked outside with two dead bodies without thinking there would be consequences. Nathan shakes his head and you can practically see him thinking. “No, no, no. We give them a quick little,” he whistles to represent cleaning or something. “We put them in those wheelchairs, we wheel them up there, and if anyone sees us, we’re just a bunch of young offenders taking a couple of specials for a walk in the sunshine!” He tries to smile, but he looks far too tense to do so. After cleaning up and redressing the bodies, wheeling them under the flyover, and digging the hole, Nathan and Kelly tip over the wheelchairs, now soaked in blood, and dump the bodies into the ground. Nathan looks up at you somberly, a queasy expression on his face. Everyone is silent for a few seconds, partially relieved, but also knowing that the real danger begins now, with keeping this covered up. Nathan shakes his head and puts on his usual playful airs, “I’m pretty sure this breaches the terms of my ASBO.” It isn’t even that funny, but you’re so weary, so exhausted from the past two days of crazy events and literal murder, that you start laughing. Nathan does too, first small giggles, then snickers, and then all-out laughter. The mood hasn’t lightened much by the time you quiet down, and you only feel marginally better, but it’s the best you’ve felt in the past few hours, so that’s a start. “We don’t tell anyone about this, yeah?” Kelly instructs. Everyone nods. “About the storm or what it did to us or anything.” “We’re about to bury our probation worker, we don’t need to be drawing any attention to ourselves,” Nathan agrees. “I don’t want anyone to know.” Alisha grabs a shovel and stands by the open grave. “I cannot be a freak.” “It’s too late for me on that front,” you joke, “but being convicted for murder wouldn’t help anything.” “What about you?” Kelly points to Curtis, who remains bitterly silent. Nathan shakes his head, “There’s no goin’ back now, man. You’re just as screwed as the rest of us. You are black and famous, you’re probably more screwed.” “I shouldn’t even be here,” Curtis spits. “You don’t really have a choice,” you point out. Curtis meets your gaze for a second before bending down and digging his shovel into the newly upturned soil. You follow suit. Kelly turns to Alisha, “Just then, when he was touchin’ ya… How were you doin’ that?” “I don’t know!” Alisha responds, trying to brush her off. “Didn’t you say you wanted to piss on her tits?” Nathan teases, unfortunately reminding everyone of the particulars of that scene. “Probably best to keep that kind of thing between you and your internet service provider.” Simon is clearly trying not to look mortified, and he just continued shoveling. “Are you alright?” Curtis stops for a moment to address Alisha, remembering the involuntary part he played in the discovery of her power. She doesn’t say anything. Kelly stands up suddenly to repeatedly glance between you and Nathan. “What?” you ask. Nathan glares insistently at her, realizing what’s happening even as you don’t. “It’s nothin’,” Kelly shrugged and returned to shoveling. After a few more minutes, Nathan stands up and leans on his shovel, “Hold on, all of you have some kind of ‘special power.’ “Everyone can do something except me. He can do something,” he points to Simon, “he can do something and I can’t. That’s ridiculous, look at him! How does that make any sense.” Simon stops for a moment to wipe some sweat from his brow. “Well he sure is working harder than you,” you point out. “I work harder in other areas,” Nathan explains suggestively. “Maybe you can do something, you just haven’t found out what it is yet,” Simon reasons. “Yeah, right.” Nathan smiles, emboldened by the possibilities. “What if… What if I can’t feel pain?” Kelly punches him. “Ow!” “Did you feel that?” She grins. You laugh, completely understanding the impulse. “Stop hitting me!” Nathan protests. “Both of you!” The sky has darkened significantly by the time you finish the burial, and it isn't helped by the fact that you have to stop every few minutes when it suddenly looks like everything is done because you really want to just be finished. It’s actually a pretty good exercise in controlling your power. It’s even later by the time you finish cleaning off the wheelchairs, locker, and the surrounding area. Nathan catches up with you as you leave, asking if you want to walk home with him again. His voice sounds chipper and you half expect him to be joking, but when you look up, his eyes plead with you to say yes. So you do. And you don’t walk in silence. There is much to say about the past two days and it feels good to say it, to divulge your fear and your worries, and to hear them reciprocated. He turns down the same street he did the previous day and you walk the rest of the way alone, trying not to let your overwhelming fear of the future overtake you. You finally return home and collapse onto your bed for the second day in a row, once again hoping that the next day would be better, and doubting that it could be much worse.

#misfits #misfits tv #nathan #nathan young #nathan young misfits #nathan misfits #nathan young x reader #nathan young imagine

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meldy-writes · 5 years

Text

Luckiest Girl in the World (Daryl Dixon X Wife! Reader)

Context:So I have an alt AO3 because for some reason I didn’t think a walking dead fic fit with the fanfictions I had under my Pen Name’s account, but at this point, I don’t think it really matters. Anyway, there’s this Daryl X Reader fic I’m writing on this alt account and I’m at the point where I’m writing two ways the story could branch, and there’s this little scene from the path I didn’t take that could work as a drabble. If you like this, or if you want to read the fic for context, it’s here. Be warned, it’s pretty long.

Summary: The Reader has been with the group since the CDC, and along the way, she fell in love and married Daryl Dixon. Now they’re in Alexandria and Aiden, one of Deanna’s sons has begun to harbor a crush. He doesn’t seem to realize that she’s taken. (Daryl’s not really mentioned until the last couple of paragraphs, but I thought those paragraphs were cute enough to warrant this being tagged as an x reader fic.)

Aiden sat at the top of the fence with her, casually leaning back in his seat. The front legs of the plastic chair were off the ground, his feet planted as he rocked back and forth.

“You’re gonna to fall backwards, you know.” (y/n) stated.

“You worried I’m going to get hurt?” he teased, leaning even farther back.

“No. In fact, I think it’d be funny. I just don’t want your mommy to yell at me.”

He let out a snort and put his arms behind his head as he began to rock back and forth. She rolled her eyes, amusement dancing on her features as she eyed the back legs of the chair in anticipation. As she predicted, they eventually snapped, and Aiden promptly fell backwards just as she’d cautioned.

She let out a barking laugh, and a few people passing by stopped to look up at her as the flushing boy tried to shake off the embarrassment.

“All right, all right, it’s not that funny.”

“Oh, I beg to differ, that was the most entertainin’ thing I’ve seen all week,” she argued, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Then your life must be very boring.” He countered bitterly, his pride hurt just a tad from how demeaning her tone was and how promptly she’d always shut him down.

“Oh, no. it’s not borin’, it’s just not fun, either.”

He finally recovered from his little mishap, tossing the broken chair down into the grass below to be fixed later, and choosing instead to sit against the wall. (y/n) kept to her perch, eyeing the expanse of pavement in front of the fence gate.

“You know, if you can’t find fun, you can always make it. There’s a game a lot of us play when we’re on watch to pass the time, want to play?”

She rolled her eyes. “I gotta keep my eyes on the gate”

“It’s a talking game. You can still keep watch. It’s called The Worst. We each share the worst experience we’ve ever had with something, and the one that’s the most terrible wins the round.” He continued, eyeing her with a charming smirk that, despite his best efforts, she hadn’t registered as flirty, yet.

He was an attractive guy, and after she’d saved his life on that run, and yelled at him, they’d bonded. He’d even swallowed his pride and let her train him. They’d gotten close, and they were both attractive, sarcastic, and confident people, so he couldn’t understand how they weren’t together yet. No matter what he did, she always shut down any plans he tried to make to hang out alone outside of the occasional look-out duty, and she always spoke to him like she was talking to a child. A very stupid child.

He didn’t let it deter him, though. No matter how much it hurt his pride. She’d eventually come around.

She turned her nose up at his suggestion, looking at him like he just told her the sky was green, and she was about to gently tell him he was a dumbass.

“That sounds like a game you don’t wanna play with me.”

He asked her why she felt like that.

“Because you’d always lose.” She stated simply, turning back to the scene past the gate.

“Okay, you don’t always have to play the jaded soldier. This world is shit, it’s fucked us all over one time or another, quit acting like you’re the saddest sack in the world.” He scoffed, smacking her shin with the back of his hand playfully.

She sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

“Alright, then. But if this ends up bummin’ you out, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Internally, he celebrated. This was the first time he’d ever gotten her to agree to something she initially said ‘no’ to. Slowly but surely, he was winning her over, he was sure.

“Alright, easy. Worst night of your life. Mine was that time I left that supply run group behind. Usually, we’d go into detail, explaining what happened, but, you already know about that night ‘cuz I told you about it.” He stated sadly. She’d talked a big game, so he was pulling out the big guns. “What about you?”

Let’s see you top that, Debbie Downer.

She smirked, sensing the challenge in his voice.

“A long time before we all came here, we were stayin’ on Maggie’s dad’s farm. One night, it got overrun by a horde, an’ everyone got separated. I was with Carol, an’ a walker fell on top of me, tryin’ to bite into my shoulder. She thought I was bit, so she left me behind, but I was wearin’ a real thick jacket. I was fine, but I had to cut it open and drench myself in its blood so the herd wouldn’t sniff me out and tear me to shreds. I had to slice my way through a sea of those suckers, an’ then stumble through the woods covered in gunk for a whole day and a half ‘fore I found my people again. That was the first walker I ever killed on my own. Damn terrifyin’.”

He was quiet after that, face white as a sheet as he shuttered and coughed awkwardly.

“Y-your turn to come up with a topic.” He finally uttered.

“Worst walker encounter you ever had. Mine was this time at a mechanic shop out in… It had to be North Carolina. A guy tried to--well, it’s not important what his intentions were, the point was that he had me handcuffed to one of those automatic levers they use in autobody shops to lift cars, an’ I was hoisted off the ground. He had the keys in his front pocket, an’ I’d managed to get his head ‘tween my thighs to snap his neck. I was tryin’ to reach for the keys with my feet when he re-animated. I was strugglin’, I couldn’t go anywhere, I couldn’t use my arms, the only reason I got out of it was ‘cuz he accidentally bumped up against the control for the lift, and his head ended up crushed under the mechanism. I’ve had a lot of close calls, but I think that was the only time I ever truly felt like I was gonna die.”

Aiden let out a low whistle, letting her words settle. Maybe she’d been right after all. Still, depending on how she saw things, his might still be worse.

“Mine was right at the beginning. My girlfriend was with us while we were traveling for Mom’s campaign. I left for twenty minutes to grab some lunch, and when I got back to our hotel room, she was a walker. I don’t know if she was bitten, or if she had an accident, or if someone… I don’t know. All I know is that I had to kill her with my bare hands just to stay alive. I... dropped the hotel room tv on her head.”

He shuttered at the memory, and to his surprise, he felt (y/n) place her hand on his shoulder and squeeze comfortingly. He grabbed for it, but she pulled away before he could.

“Let’s uh, choose a more up-beat topic,” he continued weakly, “Worst date you ever went on. Mine was this girl Cierra Mauldry in sixth grade. I kissed her goodnight on her porch, and our braces stuck together.”

She laughed at first, but a long-suppressed memory resurfaced at the mention of dates, and instantly she was somber again.

“A guy I worked with at the CDC,” she started softly.

“He’d had a crush on me for a while, an’ I’d just learned that my dad died, so I was in kind of a vulnerable spot. I said yes to grabbin’ dinner together, an’ takin a walk ‘round the facility. When we got back to his room, he wanted to sleep with me, but I didn’t. I didn’t really like him that way, an’ I didn’t think it was fair to him to string him along, so I told him ‘no’, an’ that we should just remain professional from now on. Next day, he didn’t show up in the lab, an’ my boss sent me to go get ‘im. I found him as a walker hangin’ from his closet.” She took a hiccupping breath, reliving the memory in her mind, and scrunching her eyes shut. “Worst part is I cannot, for the life of me, remember his name.”

They were both quiet after that, and soon, they heard Spencer calling up to relieve (y/n) from her shift. She grinned sympathetically down and Aiden, and gave him the goodbye of:

“Told you it was a bad game to play with me.”

Still, when she got up, he scrambled to his feet as well grabbing her arm to stop her before she made her way down the ladder.

“Well, hey, I still had fun. I got to know you a bit better. I’d like to continue doing that, maybe you could come over for dinner and eat with my family tonight.”

She smiled the smile she usually did; like she was talking to a slow, and simple child.

“I’m sorry, Aiden, but tonight’s not great. Daryl’s gotten kind of close with his recruitn’ buddy, and his husband wants us to come to dinner tonight so he can finally properly meet me.”

Aiden scrunched up his eyes in confusion.

“What? What does Daryl getting close with them have to do with you? If they wanted to get to know you, couldn’t they just approach you without having to go through him?”

She smiled wider like he’d said something adorably stupid, as she clarified:

“I didn’t explain it very well, It’s more like a couple’s dinner party sort-of thing.”

Aiden blinked. What? What the fuck? Was she insinuating that she and Daryl were… she couldn’t be, right?

“You and Daryl are together?”

She nodded as if his statement was beyond obvious, “we’re married,” she corrected.

He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to picture the violent, mean, constantly dirty guy with the long, long hair together with the clever, beautiful, and secretly caring woman he’d been trying to flirt with for the past week and a half, but he just couldn’t picture it.

“How?” he blurted out.

“How do people get married?” she teased flatly.

“No, how did you two end up together? You’re so different!”

She smiled softly, looking down at her fingers as she began to twiddle them. This smile was different than any of the ones he’d reluctantly wrangled out of her. This one was genuine, and bashful, and affectionate, and dazzling. Aiden knew it wasn’t for him, and it almost felt like he was intruding on something he shouldn’t be just by looking at her.

“He an’ I are a lot more alike than people realize. We’re more alike than even he realizes, I think. That doesn’t matter though. These days, it’s not about whether you’re similar, or if you’ve known each other for a long time, it’s all about who you can trust and depend on. It’s about who you’d die for, and who’d die for you. We might not have ended up together in the old world, but in this one, we’ve got somethin’ strong. Somethin’ special.”

She grinned brightly, practically knocking the breath out of her companion as she looked him in the eyes and said, “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

With that, his grip on her arm retracted, and she finally made her way down the ladder. He watched her walk down the street and run into the man they’d just been discussing. He watched as she strode over to him, and gripped his leather vest, trying to pull him down for a kiss.

He noticed how Daryl grinned fondly and put his hands on her waist, placing a quick peck on the tip of her nose. He noticed how she leaned into him with her whole body. He noticed how the sun reflected off the ring on her finger, the ring he had not gathered was supposed to be a wedding ring until that moment. He noticed how soft Daryl was for her when no one else was around.

Or maybe, he was always like this around her, and Aiden had just been too absorbed in himself to realize.

#walking dead x reader #Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon x reader #Daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader

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nekoannie-chan · 4 years

Text

Another dimension

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader (Vampire! Steve Rogers X Nymph! Reader too)

Word count: 1260 words.

Summary: Accidents happen all the time…accidents can send you to another…dimension…

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, death of a character.

A/N: This is my entry to the @fanfictionaries‘s Classic Tropes Writing Challenge with the AU trope:

“Magic creature”

Also is my entry to the @simsadventures ‘s 3K Challenge with the Mood board #5.

And my entry to @jtargaryen18 ‘s 30 days of Chris.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don’t steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other’s people. The only exception is the ones I gifted ‘cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Marvel’s characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

“The place is here, the time is now, and the journey into the shadows that we’re about to watch could be ‘our’ journey” The Twilight Zone, episode 1 “Where is everybody”, season 1.

Steve took your hand one more time, he didn't want to leave you alone, he was afraid something bad would happen to you if he wasn't by your side.

He felt guilty that he hadn't been with you at the time of the incident.

In that incident, you had tried to reassure Rogue and Dagger in the argument they were having, which was getting any good as time went on, you inadvertently received one of Tandy's attacks, which left you in a coma.

Tandy felt too guilty, kept apologizing to Steve, and you for what happened, at no point did he want to hurt anyone.

No one knew exactly what damage you had because of what previously happened, they weren't even sure if you were going to wake up.

"Steve, I know it's not a good time, but we need you," Natasha said.

"I already told them to take over...”

"The parents explicitly asked for you, they think it's more feasible that they want to come back if you ask them to if we just go the others," Blink interrupted.

"The Parents?" Steve asked strangely.

"I don't think it takes us much time, they're a group of teenagers who ran away from their parents with the dinosaur from one of them…

"A dinosaur? What kind of parents gives a dinosaur to a teenager?' questioned Steve incredulously.

Both women raised their shoulders, they couldn't explain it either, at first they didn't believe it until they showed them the pictures.

"I can't leave Y/N...”

"It'll be quick, Steve, it's just finding them, we take them with their parents," Nat said.

He hesitantly agreed to go, perhaps if you noticed his absence, you would react.

They started searching the streets, it wouldn't be so difficult if they were carrying a dinosaur, and he could bet they would get attention, Steve kept walking until he found them.

"Come on, guys, you just need to go home, your parents are very worried about you," Steve said, trying to convince them.

"We can't go back," Molly said between our teeth.

"They're just worried, they won't punish you... why does she have a dinosaur?" he questioned while still seeing her.

"Is not just a dinosaur, she is...she is A DEINONYCHUS—Gert corrected annoyed.

Old Lace let out a kind of roar to support her owner.

"Come on guys," Steve said exasperated.

"You'd never understand, Captain," Nico said.

She took firmly the Staff; she knew what to do, for no reason could they return with PRIDE, they would leave the right way or the hard way.

"Nico don't," Karolina asked.

“We don't have a choice," Nico revolved.

"Guys don't...”

“Dream... Uh... Dimension?!” Nico shouted, putting the Staff in front of her.

Steve fell unconscious to the floor.

"I-Is he alive?" asked Gert fearfully.

Alex and Chase approached, Chase put forward the Fistigons just in case while Alex checked the Captain's condition, not even Nico was sure what she had just done, she simply said the first words she had come up with.

"He's just unconscious," Wilder informed.

"Okay, so... we have to go...”

Steve woke up, he was thirsty, and he remembered he was on a street, but now he had shown up somewhere else, how did he get there?

He was in a kind of forest, he came up to the creek and drank some of the water, but he spat it out, he spat it out, he knew horrible, his body indicated that he needed... blood?

He turned quickly as he perceived a movement, he seemed to smell the blood of the deer; he went after the animal, caught him, and drank his blood.

"Do you finish?" Clarice asked.

Steve looked up, had not realized at what point she had appeared.

"Blink... what's going on?” Steve asked.

"We have to hurry, the Shadows must not find us... "

And the kids with the dinosaur?” Rogers interrupted.

"With what? What are you talking about, Count Rogers?”

"Count?”

"If you want to rescue Y/N, we must hurry," Clarice replied.

In short, Steve didn't understand what was going on.

“What happens to Y/N? Where is Y/N?”

"In the castle, where else she would be?" Blink replied as if it was obvious.

What castle did she mean? Steve didn't even know where he'd appeared.

"If they get here before us, she can die," the mutant warned.

"Where is that castle?”

"Count, don't you know where your castle is?”

"My castle? Well anyway, take me to it, use your powers... do you still have powers?”

"Sure," she replied.

She opened a portal and the two came in appearing outside the castle, Steve was surprised with what he saw, he couldn't understand how he owned that place when you heard a noise, you immediately left the lake where you were playing.

Steve was stunned to see you... you were a nymph, but when he approached the water, he didn't recognize he... he was exaggeratedly pale, the blood from the deer was draining down his chin... Clarice had called him Count... was he a vampire?

"Are you okay...?” He asked.

He immediately crouched down to wash with the lake water, he didn't want you to see him in those conditions.

"Why wouldn't I be? I have everything you promised me, this lake is very beautiful, but are you sure they won't come for me?”

"You'll be safe here," Steve said.

Soon the sky began to darken – for no apparent reason – you shuddered, you knew what that meant.

"The Army of Darkness is approaching," Nat reported, approaching as she flapping her little wings.

Steve looked at her perplexed, Natasha was a little fairy, and she understood less and less, apart what famous Army of Darkness was? And most of all, why did they want you?

Shadows, black Pegasus, and other terrible monsters arrived, they were determined to take you with them, and Steve ordered Natasha to keep you safe.

The battle began, Steve had tried to keep them away from you, but he didn't expect one of the trolls to get to you, as soon as he realized he went to the place to take him down.

However, he was late, you were seriously injured, he didn't know what to do until he came up with something maybe that could save you, there was no choice and he had to take a chance.

He drew his teeth even in doubt to your neck, then he bit him, he took some of your blood, he got hurt so you'd take from his and so you'd become, but what Steve did not know was that the wounds had been fatal and before you could drink, you had already died in his arms.

When he realized he started screaming desperately without releasing your body, he feared that in his world you had died too, how could he fix it? How could he get you back? If he came back, what would he expect there?

"Steve! Steve!”

He opened his eyes, the team was surrounding him, and they were on the street where he had found the teenagers.

"What?" he questioned disoriented.

"What happened to you?" Nat asked.

"Why were you lying there?" Clint questioned.

"The kids... one of them has a Staff...”

Meanwhile, at the hospital, you finally opened your eyes, the last thing you remember was one of Tandy's daggers and screaming, everything had been so confusing.

"Well, they run away," Clarice deduced.

At that moment Steve's mobile phone rang, he immediately answered when he saw he was from the hospital.

"Y/N has woken up," Caitlin told him.

“They say a dream takes only a second or so, and yet in that second a man can live a lifetime. He can suffer and die, and who’s to say which is the greater reality: the one we know or the one in dreams, between heaven, the sky, the earth in the Twilight Zone” The Twilight Zone, episode 9 “Perchance to Dream”, season 1.

#FanFictionariesClassicTropeChallenge #30DaysofChris2020 #sims3kchallenge #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers one shot #vampire steve rogers #nymph reader #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #captain america x you #captain america fic #captain america one shot #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader

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silversoulstardust · 4 years

Text

Here to answer @olyollyoxenfree ‘s curiousity ;) Pardon for being late at it always cuz I prefer doing this on my laptop than on my phone

1. Are you a content creator? If you are, what medium, and what does your work space look like? (Also, because I’m stupidly curious, which work(s) are you most proud of?)

Yes. Currently I write fanfic and paint traditional canvas art. I go by Monochromevelyn on AO3 (mind you, my English is barely alright and I ain’t got no time to find beta lol) and even though it didn’t get as many kudos compared to my other Haikyuu works, I’m proud of Somebody You Loved. Oh, and I’m stupidly proud of my free-hand drawing/painting of the Wings of Freedom! I don’t have a designated workspace so it’s just my laptop and my foldable Japanese table; me sitting crossed leg on the floor of my bedroom with scattered paint tubes and brushes on the floor, working on my project of the day.

2. What are some of your favorite activities for your favorite season?

Lol I come from a tropical country and we don’t have your typical 4 seasons. Our 4 seasons are: haze season, durian season, dengue season, monsoon season. My favourite is monsoon season because I love playing in the rain, baybeee!

3. Can you cook and/or bake? What’s your go-to to make (or what’s your favorite food to get, if you don’t cook or bake)?

I like both! But I’m better at cooking compared to baking, only because I’m kinda impatient. My go to food is Bolognese pasta, but make it spicy lol (Italians please don’t judge me)

4. In a game of Truth or Dare, are you more likely to pick truth or dare?

Dare. It’s more fun that way ;p

5. What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do? What’s stopping you from doing it?

Leave my current life behind and move across the world where people don’t know me, preferably somewhere by the beach. I’ve been thinking about Fiji a lot lately. Not running away or anything, I just hate the thought of being another cogwheel in this big capitalist machine. I want a simple life. I’m not doing it (YET) because I want to complete my postgraduate study first to become a specialist so I have that leverage to move across the world. Paper qualification is everything, especially for a professional/high skilled worker like me.

6. You’re wandering around in the dark when your hand touches something and the lights come on. What did you touch?

A spider! Luckily there’s a bug spray nearby! :p

7. Do you initiate hugs? Do you like being hugged?

I’m a big hugger. I always initiate hug and I love getting hugs. But ironically, when I needed a hug the most I will keep it to myself and cry it out when I’m alone.

8. Have you ever spat out or stopped eating something after a few bites? What was it and why?

Yeahhh, not food though, it’s usually drinks. Actually, it’s usually just coffee. I’m picky about my coffee and can’t tolerate terrible ones. Even if I paid 10$ for that cuppa joe I’d still throw it out if it tastes like shit. I’m not wasting calories drinking that terrible milky water with barely any coffee.

9. Given the opportunity, until what hour would you sleep in? (If you rise with the sun, let’s never sleep in the same room.)

Around 9 or 10am, but I usually like to lie in bed until noon, scrolling through social media feeds. Is that considered early? lol

10. Every day until the day you meet, you’re psychically connected to your soulmate (platonic, romantic, whatever) while you’re awake (lord have mercy if you’re halfway across the world from each other). What are you spamming their mind with?

Travel plans! Hahah. I really love travelling and never shut up about it. So it’d be a lot of googled pictures of beaches and cities, maps and travel routes, prices of rented caravan for a road trip, upcoming festivals at each destination and foods to try.

More questions but this time it’s just for Oly :p @olyollyoxenfree

1. If you get to start over your teenage years, would you change anything or are you happy with the way things were?

2. Do you separate your real life from your tumblr life?

3. Have you ever shown any of your fanfic/fanart to person you know in real life? How did they react to it?

4. State 2 unlikely facts about yourself.

5. Ketchup on your fries on ketchup on the side of your fries?

6. If you were trying to convince your non-anime watcher friend to start watching it, what anime would it be?

7. Since you came from Florida, what do you think your Florida Man headline would be? :p

8. Unsolved crimes or aliens?

9. Name one book you can read over and over again without feeling bored.

10. An OTP you’re currently obsessed with!

#tag game

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could-have-beens · 5 years

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Tradition (Chapter 1)

I’m just gonna go and shamelessly tag this as part of the @hansannafortheholidays event even though it’s really, really late. Written for Day 10: Mistletoe.

Also posted on ff.net and ao3. Please tell me what you guys think and I hope you like it!

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Hans keeps finding himself caught under the mistletoe. Somehow, it’s always Anna’s fault.

Or, alternatively, seven kisses Hans and Anna share under the mistletoe. Childhood friends AU.

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To think, just a few weeks ago, Hans had been so excited when he had learned of his betrothal. The last of his thirteen brothers, he had been resigned to waiting for each of his older siblings to be paired off with wives before even hoping for a match of his own. And he would have waited a long time, if his brother Lars hadn't intervened.

Only Lars would give more than a passing glance at the small kingdom of Arendelle, and only he would see the opportunity in its two young and eligible princesses. Only Lars would care about his youngest brother enough to make him a match, and only Lars would have the charisma and wits to pull it off.

And what a match it was. A crown princess. A future queen.

No one but Lars, Hans' sole ally in his entire family, would have thought of it. Not even their father would have cared enough to think of Hans' future. If it were up to him, Hans would have never been paired with anyone, even if everyone else had already been married off. Or, worse, he would have been sent to the Brotherhood of Isles, forced to take a vow of silence.

But no. Thanks to Lars, that wasn't his fate anymore, and at eleven years old, Hans was already on his way to a brighter, better future than any of his brothers could ever hope to achieve. The trip to Arendelle was just icing on the cake, and Hans had been thrilled to spend the winter season away from his family.

If only Anna wasn't in the picture.

Anna, the second and youngest princess of Arendelle. A spare, just like him.

His eagerness to spend the holidays in his future home, to meet his future in-laws, to get to know his future wife, had been dampened thanks to her. Unlike Elsa — who was quiet and reserved, who was poised and graceful, whom Hans had barely even seen since his arrival in Arendelle — Anna was a tornado with pigtails. She ran around the palace without care, always with reckless abandon, always with a grin, and always with something to say.

She was just so talky. And annoying. And wouldn't leave him alone. Everywhere he went, she was always one step behind, yammering in his ear about some story or another. There was no avoiding her — and boy, did he try — and Hans had no choice but to grin and bear it. Especially, as Lars liked to laughingly remind him, if Hans wanted to get in the King and Queen's good graces.

So here he was, acting like the princess' glorified keeper, as Anna pouted and knocked incessantly at her sister's door.

"Elsa!" Anna was saying, and the sound of her relentless knocking made his head pound. "Do you want to build a snowman? We could do it with Hans! I bet Hans wants to build a snowman with us. Don't you, Hans?"

She turned to him expectantly, and Hans gave her a strained smile. "Sure," he said through gritted teeth. "I'd love nothing more."

The sarcasm was lost on her, and she beamed at him before turning back to the door, knocking again. "You hear that, Elsa? Hans wants to play with us! Elsa? Elsa, I know you're in there! Elsaaaaaaa."

Not for the first time that day, Hans bit back a sigh. Elsa was probably trying to enjoy the silence — the sweet, blissful, blessed silence — before coming out to deal with her little sister. Maybe with Elsa with them, Anna would be easier to deal with, and Hans could have an actual conversation with his betrothed.

But the longer he and Anna stood there, waiting, the more it became clear that Elsa had no intention of opening her door. Hans watched as Anna's large grin faltered with each passing second.

In spite of himself, he couldn't help but frown. Since he arrived, he had only seen Elsa a handful of times, mostly during meals where her presence was required. Even then, she hardly said a word, speaking only when spoken to, each reply short but polite. Hans supposed she must be shy around strangers, and he could understand her need to keep to herself, but was it really necessary to lock herself in her room like this? To hide herself away?

Hans knew all about hiding, after all. He just couldn't understand why Elsa would need to. Anna, as draining and irritating as she was, was nothing like his brothers. The King and Queen of Arendelle were nothing like his parents. So why was Elsa not opening her door? Why wasn't she answering at all?

Anna seemed to have given up on Elsa replying. Her shoulders had visibly drooped, and her bright eyes had dimmed as she cast her gaze downward.

"Oh, well," she said hesitantly. "You're probably busy with — uh — the usual stuff, I guess. Maybe next time?"

There was no answer, but Anna didn't wait for one before dropping on her knees and elbows, peeking through the crack under the door.

"Anna," Hans began, "what are you —"

She slipped the drawing — the one she had been so proud of, the one she made while she insisted he tell her about every single detail of his castle in the Southern Isles, about what each of his brothers looked like, about his entire voyage to Arendelle — under the door and got back to her feet, grabbed his hand, then tugged him away like a ragdoll.

"C'mon!" she said excitedly, beaming again. "Let's go to the library! It's got load and loads of books and Papa said they're from all around the world — isn't that awesome? I bet you've got a library in the Southern Isles too, huh? I bet you've —"

"Wait," he interrupted, mind reeling. "That drawing. Your drawing. You gave it to Elsa."

She nodded, not pausing in her steps. "I did! You think she'd like it?"

"Why?"

"Why would she like it?"

Again, Hans wanted to sigh. "I mean, why did you give it to her?"

"Oh. That." She took a deep breath, then, without pausing, went on, "Well, I dunno, I just thought she'd like to see what the Southern Isles looked like, 'cuz, you know, she didn't get to hear any of your stories at all, 'cuz she left so quickly after dinner and everything. And I bet she really wanted to hear 'em too, because she's in her room all day and she never gets to hear the best stories. I bet she's really bored, staying in bed all the time, and I bet she really wanted to hear all about your castles and your ships and your horses and stuff, but she didn't 'cuz — I dunno, 'cuz she's Elsa like that — anyway. I didn't want her to miss out on all the fun, so I made her those drawings so she gets to see 'em even if she wasn't there!"

It took Hans a moment to make sense of her rambling, but when he did, all he could say was, "You've never seen them either."

"Yeah, but I've got you to tell me all the stories! Elsa doesn't have a storyteller like you so maybe we can make her drawings instead. Like in the storybooks." Anna brightened, and he could almost imagine a candle over her head, lighting up with an idea. "Oh, oh, oh! We should make her a storybook, all about your adventures! I bet she'll like that. Do you think she'll like that?"

Hans fell quiet, feeling something stir in his chest at her words. He couldn't imagine any of his brothers doing something like what Anna did and wanted to do for Elsa. If it were his family, they wouldn't even notice his absence, or would have thought of him at all, let alone care enough to make handmade presents and slip it under his door. Sure, there was Lars, and Hans was definitely grateful he wasn't like the rest of his brothers, but Lars wasn't exactly the affectionate, sentimental sort, and he was always too caught up in his books and research to think of much else.

"Yes, I think she will," Hans said after a while.

Anna squealed. "We should get started! I've got all my crayons and pencils and everything and — oh! We should do it in the library! Elsa never goes to the library — well, she never goes anywhere really — but I don't think I've ever seen her in the library. It's the perfect place — I bet she'll be so surprised —"

She went on and on, talking a mile a minute. Hans let himself be dragged along, half-listening, but he couldn't help but smile and nod as he followed. The princess was annoying, certainly, but she was harmless and easily amused. He supposed there were worse ways to spend the holidays than acting like her royal babysitter.

I won't be bored, at least, he thought.

Anna stopped abruptly when they reached the library. Hans had already passed by the doorway, but Anna was staring at the decorations overhead, gasping, an awed look on her face.

"Mistletoe," she whispered, sounding almost reverent.

Sure enough, there it was, hanging above her, almost hidden behind all the other holiday ornaments. Squinting, Hans could see the mistletoe was still full of berries, and they seemed to gleam, almost tauntingly, amid the glittering decorations.

Hans grimaced. "C'mon, Anna," he said. "I thought you wanted to get started on your storybook —"

"Not before we kiss!"

He sighed. "We don't have to, Anna. It's just a plant."

She looked up at him with a horrified gasp, looking so appalled like he'd just done something terribly unforgivable. Like kicked a puppy or destroyed her snowman, or whatever it was that could be considered unforgivable for six-year-olds. "But it's tradition," she said, reproachful.

Hans resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Technically, he could probably just carry her over his shoulder, bring her inside the library, and be done with it, but no doubt Anna would throw a fuss and start kicking and screaming. It wouldn't be worth it.

So, resigned to the lesser evil, he stifled another sigh and bent down to press a soft kiss on her forehead. When he straightened and stepped back, Anna was gaping at him, with wide eyes and pink cheeks, before the stunned look quickly melted into a glare.

"You missed!" she whined. "That's not a real kiss!"

Hans could feel the beginnings of a smile curling at the corner of his lips, but he smothered it with a smirk. "Of course it is."

"Nu-uh!"

"And how do you know what a real kiss is supposed to be like?"

Anna lowered her voice, glancing about her furtively like she was about to tell a secret. "It's s'pposed to go on the lips, over here," she whispered, pointing to her lips for good measure, as if he needed the reminder. "Like Mama and Papa do. Like in the fairytales."

"Fairytales aren't real, Anna."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Shows what you know! 'Course they are!"

This time he didn't bother to hide his annoyance as he rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I still say it's a real kiss. The mistletoe tradition never said the kiss had to be on the lips."

She wasn't convinced. "How'd you know?"

"I read it. In a book."

"What book?"

"From the library."

Her brows furrowed, and she looked like she was in deep concentration, as though she was debating with herself, trying to fit what she knew with this new information. Then she nodded, self-assured and seemingly satisfied. "Okay, I guess," she said, a bit reluctantly. "But next time you have to give me a real kiss — not a stupid one on the forehead! A kiss like True Love."

"Like in the fairytales?"

"Exactly!"

"You're a bit young for True Love's kiss, aren't you?"

Anna tsked impatiently, grabbing his hand and tugging him inside the library. He was beginning to get used to it. "Then do it when I'm bigger, duh. You have to promise."

Hans wanted to laugh, but she was glaring at him so fiercely, so intensely, that he knew nothing less than an affirmative would sway her.

"Okay," he said, smiling. "I promise."

ii.

Kai had been with the royal family long enough to remember the days when the princesses were as thick as thieves, practically attached at hip. Back then, it was almost impossible to see one princess without the other trailing just a few steps behind.

But when the King and Queen decided to place the princesses in separate rooms, when they decided to close the gates, it was like the whole castle had changed overnight. Gone were the joyous, childish screams and giggling, and what were once two sets of footsteps, running to and fro the hallways, had turned to one. It made the palace seem too big, too empty, too cold, and the day Princess Elsa decided to spend her waking hours in the confines of her room, was the day Kai felt as though a light had been snuffed out in the kingdom, leaving only dimmed smiles and shrouding not just the royal family, but everyone else within the castle, in lonely shadows.

Now, Kai had some rather unfavorable opinions about certain practices that were common among the nobility. It wasn't his place to question Their Majesties, of course, but he certainly hadn't approved when he had learned of the engagement between Princess Elsa and a prince of the Southern Isles. Politics-wise, Kai agreed it was a good match, but for heaven's sake, they were only children.

Still, he remembered how Princess Anna's face lit up when she had first learned that Prince Hans was to spend the winters in Arendelle, and how Princess Elsa would wander more and more outside of her room as the prince's annual visits went on. Kai had to admit that some good had come out of the arrangement, as Her Highnesses had ended up with a playmate and a friend — or, in Princess Elsa's case, someone who was on his way to becoming one, if nothing else. Though she still insisted on staying in her room, she would come out to engage in small talk with him, and Kai had noticed that the prince was the only person she would approach and talk to at royal functions, on the rare times that she did initiate conversations.

Which was Kai felt a bit miffed on the princess' behalf, when he caught sight of Prince Hans slipping away from the ball, carrying a platter of what looked suspiciously like krumkakes. From what Kai could tell, no one but himself and the princess had noticed the prince's absence, and he saw her looking around the room, searching the crowd from her place on the dais.

Why, the nerve of him! Kai thought, affronted. Leaving the princess alone . . . why I never!

Once Kai was certain his presence was no longer needed, he too left the ballroom in search of the wayward prince. The boy needed a stern talking to. He was seventeen now, almost of age, and the ball was supposed to be held in his and his brother's honor — surely he had to know better by now, surely he was aware of how rude it was, to leave the party just like that.

It didn't take long to find the prince in the gardens, but what surprised Kai was that he wasn't alone.

"The whole thing?"

"Yeah, the whole thing! You got it."

Kai felt his eyebrows rise to his hairline at the sound of Princess Anna's voice. Peeking behind the hedges, he found the two royals, giggling over a platter of krumkakes. Prince Hans was without his coat, and it was instead draped over the princess' shoulders, big enough to hide the nightgown she wore underneath.

Kai stepped back in the shadows to give them a bit of privacy, remembering then that it wasn't just Elsa who sought the prince's company during his visits. He recalled how fond of the prince Princess Anna was, always so delighted when he visited and despondent when he left. Kai remembered too how she had moped for weeks when the King and Queen informed her she was too young to attend the welcome ball.

Oh well. . . .

Kai could give them a few moments to catch up, he supposed, before he revealed himself. It wasn't as though the prince's presence was that pressing of a matter, surely. . . .

"So what's it like?" the princess was saying.

"The ball?"

"Duh."

"All right, I suppose. A bit boring."

"Boring?" she echoed, sounding aghast to hear such a thing. "How can it be boring? I mean there's dancing and all those people and there's so much chocolate and food —"

The prince laughed. "It really is, Anna. There's hardly any people my age to dance with, and everyone else is busy talking about trade routes and politics."

"But Elsa's there." There was a pause, and the hesitation in her tone was clear when she continued, "Was she — was she having fun?"

"I don't think she was. She didn't even dance."

"Not even once?"

"Well, one dance. With me. It . . . could've been better."

The princess giggled. "Aww, how romantic."

"It wasn't," the prince said, sighing. "She kept stepping on my toes."

"Elsa? She would never!"

"You don't believe me?"

"You've seen her! She's so . . . graceful and perfect. I don't think she's even physically capable of being bad at anything."

"Clearly, you've never seen her dance."

Another pause, longer than the first, and Kai was just about to step forward to see what was wrong, when the prince spoke again.

"Anna?" he said worriedly.

"Nothing," and Kai could hear the sadness in her voice. "It's just — you're right. I've never seen her dance. She — uh — she never wanted to practice. With me, I mean."

"Oh." Prince Hans cleared his throat. Sounding rather awkward, he went on, "None of my brothers did either. I suppose . . . it's not completely outside the realm of possibility that I . . . may have tripped a couple of times myself."

This made the princess laugh again. "I knew it!" she crowed. "And . . . outside the realm of possibility? Sheesh, Hans, do you always have to be so formal and proper?"

"Someone has to."

"Hey, I can be formal and proper!"

"Sure, Anna."

"Oh, just you wait, when I'm old enough to attend those stupid balls, I'll — I'll be so proper and sophisticated and graceful that you won't even recognize me, and the look on your face will be so —"

The princess stopped so suddenly that Kai couldn't resist sneaking another glance from his hiding place. Prince Hans had placed a chaste peck on her forehead, and was now pulling back to pluck a berry off the mistletoe hanging in the archway.

"Oh," Princess Anna said, turning as red as her hair.

The prince merely chuckled. "Tradition, remember?" he said lightly. "At least it got you to shut up."

She gaped at him. "Why you —"

Kai took that as his cue. He cleared his throat, stepping away from the shadows. "Your Highnesses," he said, bowing.

"Kai!" the princess exclaimed, delighted to see him. And then her face fell, realizing why he was here, and she said, much more dismally, "Kai."

"Now, my lady," he said reproachfully. "I believe it is time I escort you back to your chambers."

"But Kai," she said in whining tones, eyes large and imploring in the way Kai knew well.

"It is past your bedtime, Your Highness."

Next to her, Prince Hans snickered, and she shot him a glare, hitting him on the shoulder hard enough that Kai caught him wincing. Kai turned his attention to the prince then, who gave him an easy, charming smile.

"I take it no one has noticed my absence?" he said, sounding certain.

"I believe the princess has, Your Highness." The prince looked stunned by this. Trying to inject a hint of humor in his tone, Kai added, "That, and the absence of a certain platter of dessert."

"Ah," was all Prince Hans said, his cheeks slightly tinged pink.

It was the princess' turn to snicker, which turned Kai's attention back to her. She made a face, giving a most unladylike groan.

"I know, I know," she grumbled under her breath. "Back to my rooms."

"Indeed." Kai nodded reprovingly. Turning to the prince, he said, "I trust you know the way back to the ballroom, Your Highness?"

"Yes, thank you, Kai," Prince Hans said somberly, looking contrite and properly chided.

And if Kai caught the prince slipping one last krumkake in the princess' hand as she was led away — well, he supposed he could turn a blind eye, just this once.

#hansanna #hansanna fic #prince hans #hans #princess anna #anna #hansannafortheholidays #hansannafortheholidays2019 #my fic #fic: tradition

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