#would be a shame to put them on and then theyre worn out in a month

[eldrith]

oh babe dont get me wrong, i thoroughly enjoyed the fic (everything you write is an automatic favorite) and it was so, so heartwrenchingly beautiful but omg i'm in pain lmao.

also going back to the last ask you answered of mine (before the sad fic one. lol)!! absolutely he is the #1 wifehusband. dare i say #1 malewife. but this part!! "he’d want to talk to his wife for days on end, and also could (and does) talk about her for so so long to anyone who was around. #1 wifehusband i stand by this" skdufhaskf YESSSSSSSS. i can just imagine him keeping his wife up later than usual (and not for the reasons she truly desires. jace is a dumb Loser for not noticing.) yapping her ear off, especially if it's been a busy busy day as the crown prince.!! or rhaenyra having to cut jace off in a council meeting bc he's droning on and on about his wife, and while she thinks it's cute and endearing, they have actual business to attend to.. "and wearing pieces of jewelry that belongs to each other omg." girl i just went weak in the knees ugh akshfaksj didn't know i needed that in my life but now i do. or jace having jewelry crafted from pieces of old swords/equipment of his for his wife to have something of his with her always, or his wife giving him a tiny pocket square of embroidery to tuck into his pocket that has become so worn from the amount of time he spends rubbing his thumb over it (especially during longgggggg meetings). he lowkey gives fidgeter vibes so i can just see it becoming a soothing mechanism for him !! "so cute and like can u imagine how rhaenyra would just be so happy to see how happy jace is (& how incredible of a man hes become… hes so devoted to his sweet wife)" i'm getting teary eyed with an idea of rhaenyra thinking about how proud harwin would be of jace and what a great man he's become. anyway don't let me expand further on that bc i will Cry (and talk your ear off for 12 hours)!!!!!!! also rhaenyra would be the best mother in law??? ever??? so so supportive and sweet and loves how much you love and adore her son. anyway. Anyway. also in my head luke lives and spends 90% of the day teasing jace over how whipped he is for his wife :// little brother things i fear. and jace has zero shame bc he's #1 wife guy and knows luke will be the exact same way one day soon.

one day i will expand on jace as a father but. i fear i've talked enough today pookie. love u. - hubby jace anon <33

aw stop ur too nice omg :') im glad u enjoyed it <3

but omg yes 10000% to all of this.

jace literally bounding into his wife's quarters, basically oblivious to the looks she's sending him as he just rambles and talks, so excited to be with her. and asking her about her day, sighing gently when she starts to kiss up and down his neck nevermind i can't go there

also in the earlier stages of marriage or when the war is quite stressful and theyre at council and jace out of nowhere just snaps to defend his wife's honor, calling someone out who slightly disrespected her and the chamber goes silent... <3<3 love <3<3

i also loveee the idea of having a piece of him on her at all times <3 and like... jace gets one of her rings and puts it on a necklace and wears it under his clothes. he fidgets with it when he's reading or strategizing, just as he does with the pocketsquare (you have to give him a new one bc the first one is so frayed) alSO he takes your hair ribbons and uses them as bookmarks. yeah

& ur so right rhaenyra would be emotional and see so much of harwin in jace and shes just so proud. also yes she'd be the best mother in law i see her inviting you to dine with her and just thoroughly enjoying your presence, gossiping and just loving spending time with you & seeing you interact with her son. she would love you like a daughter - she always wanted one.

also stop can you imagine luke... oh my goddd. hed be thrilled to make fun of jace and i feel like he'd become so fond of calling jace ur dog lmao.

things like being in a hall with luke when jace enters, speaking with some lord - you wait for him patiently to end his conversation but luke has no mind for that and immediately teases jace. calling out to him, "here boy!" mocking and whistling like one would summon a dog, "your lady needs you!"

or or or (you've awoken a beast in me this is your fault) like

him walking past and catching jace adjusting the clasp on your necklace or something, maybe helping you with your slippers and he cant help but just go "i swear you’ve got him trained better than the hounds." you roll your eyes at luke, shooing him away with a grin as he mutters "he’d probably sit and beg if you asked him to.”

but jace would just grin so proudly, laughing and shaking his head as he stepped back to admire his handiwork - then sending you a look when luke is gone lmao.

& luke and jace sitting at a feast watching you dance with others and luke just gives him a look, "wipe that grin off your face, you look like you've gone mad. i think you're salivating" and jace is just like "she's so beautiful." & luke rolls his eyes, gagging, “gods help me if i ever get like that.”

but jace knows his brother, and he smirks, "oh, you’ll be there someday, luke.” luke rolls his eyes and huffs, "strike me dead first." and with no hesitation jace just mutters "i'll be sure to. if not before."

yeah i have so many thoughts about that... luke would become jace's wife's annoying little brother but also her bff

also PLEASE father jace bring it on omg. he'd be the cutest father i actually am going to pass out

[trickstarbrave]

i know ppl like to rip into younger lgbt ppl parroting bigoted talking points in relationship to kink but i dont think its bc theyre secretly bigoted or have been brainwashed by evil infiltrators trying to tear communities apart.

its bc for a good handful of formative years for these kids it was the norm for the most repulsive members of the kink community to target them for sexual harassment. like there was a few years on this website alone who would go out of their way to steal photos of actual real children to role play with or role play on the blogs and pages of minors. and when said kids are like “UHM this is my post i see all the notes on can you not graphically describe sex on it” they would be met with like. actual death threats. and it was on instagram and twitter too.

“but brave they arent representatives of the kink community” listen you and i both know that. we both know these people are usually not welcome in actual kink spaces. we both know a lot of the kink community puts its pride in safety and consent above all else. but when you are 13 and your first experience is someone sexually harassing you online, you arent gonna have the best idea of kink in mind

“well thats their own fault” its not easy to just tell someone to get over it. its not gonna do anything. when you tell them shut up its not like that what they actually hear is “i dont care about what you experienced and i think you’re a stupid liar who is getting in my way, shut up and sit there in silence and shame”. instead i think in most cases the bare minimum of actual respect without condescension and proper education can do wonders.

some of these kids are just kids with internet censorship brainrot and a bone to pick with the world and like to punch down but also a lot are kids who have actually experienced horrible shit they shouldnt have by assholes who wouldnt be welcome in most kink spaces but have decided to act like they run all kink communities ever.

like a quick explanation can just be “there wont be any actual sex at pride. no one will be expecting you to engage with it if youre uncomfortable. we do actually care about actual proper consent. the most you might see is some gear just being worn. but open self expression and not feeling shamed for sex is apart of the lgbt community as we are often all lumped in as weird perverts who should be arrested/killed so we need to show solidarity together because at the end of the day a bigot doesnt care if youre a white cis vanilla good person gay or not they want all of us gone and see all of us as exactly the same.

[milkweedman]

Sprained one of my fingers during work somehow and was very Doom and Gloom abt it bc if i cant do stuff with my hands right now i'll die. Thankfully, however, the pain is mostly when i try to straighten it and my fingers are curled when i knit so it's not a problem at all

[greyeyedmonster-18]

I'm thinking about Harry's first sleepover and all the emotions Sirius would be going through.

Would he be the kind of parent who needs the information of the parents, phone number, names? Would he need to meet the parents and talk beforehand?

My parents always told me that no matter the time, I can call and they would pick me up. Do you think Sirius would do the same?

thank you for your ask and your patience anon!! i am just now getting around to my mailbox.

first part of this-- i will forever HC that as much as Sirius loved all things muggle and was like YES A TELLY IN MY HOME AND ILL DO THINGS BY HAND NOW he was very....clunky around muggles he NEEDED to get to know well. Like he could small talk with anyone whatever but struggled with making relationships with muggles that mattered because so much of HIM is embedded in magic. So Remus did a lot of the logistics behind harrys school and making friends with muggle parents etc. So SLEEPOVERS at MUGGLE PARENTS HOUSES had him wringing his hands and interrogating remus ("Did you make sure to ask if they had enough food, we should bring cake just in case, you never know, and juice that he likes.") But to harry it was ALLL SMILES and "yes im so glad youre excited babe!" And Sirius was never allowed to do drop off (for him and Harry's sake; Sirius tried once and Harry threw a tantrum in the car and opted out of the party. Remus did drop off and Sirius did pick-up ((because if Remus came Harry would say "one more minute moony" until it was a half hour later)))

wizards parents houses he definitely talked to beforehand, and then DEFINITELY told harry to "use his mirror" (and harry did. Also the same applys to when harry got old enough to be invited to parties with an alcohol and he wanted to leave. Sirius picking up harry and his drunk ass friends in a mini van is one of my personal fav HCs).

But.

Also. Harry NOT calling and sirius waiting up all night when harry has his first successful sleepover and sirius picks harry up at 10am ON THE DOT and theyre both sleep deprived (because who sleeps at sleepovers?) And sirius drives them home in his nice little car and all harry wants to do is "nap in the big bed with moony".

oh no, i have to dribble with my own headcanon now what a damn shame

--

Sirius slung Harry's bright red backpack over his shoulder as the walked up the drive of Number 12, his hand on Harry's shoulder gently coaxing him along. Harry's eyes had been half-closed on the drive home, the chatter and excitement that occurred at pick-up trailing off and becoming mere mumbles as Harry looked out the window. Sirius had thought he was going to have to carry his nine-year-old inside, but Harry had insisted he could make it. Old enough to go to a sleepover meant too old to be carried, even if it meant Harry was dragging his feet on the ground as they made it through the threshold.

Harry stifled a yawn behind his hand as he toed off his shoes, "Where's Moony?"

Sirius checked the watch on his wrist, "Just waking up, I would imagine. He'll be down for breakfast."

But Harry shook his head, "I'm going to say good morning, s'polite," he mumbled, his socks being carelessly left behind with his shoes. Sirius couldn't help but smile to himself, as he flicked his wrist, sending Harry's socks up to his bedroom; and again to sort the shoes out in the hall.

Three pairs. Worn brown loafers. Black boots. And a pair of smaller high tops in between them. Remus. Harry. Sirius. Where they were supposed to be.

Sirius still had the bag over his shoulder as he made his way down the hall, loosely following Harry back to their bedroom where Remus was. He could hear the muffled voices already, stepping to the open door to see Harry already under the covers next to Remus.

"We stayed up all night and we looked through these scary books the twins had. Mr. Weasley made us a fire in the yard too." Harry was speaking softly, burrowing deeper into the bed, Remus nodding with sleepy-amusement and putting his arm around Harry's shoulder, "Fun."

"I'm glad you had fun, Harry," Remus said, and Harry nodded again.

"Don't tell Sirius about the not sleeping part though..."

"Mhmm, don't worry, I won't tell him a thing, love," Remus said, taking Harry's glasses off his face and giving a sly wink to Sirius. "If he asks I'll tell him I made you go back to bed with me...I'm very tired."

"Good," breathed out Harry, and Sirius had to fight down a laugh. He lingered in the doorway a little while longer, watching as his godsons breath sounds slowed, easily drifting off into sleep next to Remus, before walking into the room and climbing into bed over the covers.

"Should I keep the you not sleeping part a secret from Harry too?"

"I don't know what you're talking about..." Sirius hummed, reaching to pull the blankets further up Harry's body.

[jenna-jayde-the-renagade]

When i was 13, i found out that men can and do become women. That there was a word for the way i felt inside: transgender. All i had to do in order to be who i am is reach out to the right people, seek help and support.

However, it isnt always so easy. Our world judges people like us in alot of scenarios, and for a kid who just wanted to live her best little life that was a scary concept. So i hid it, i did well until i was 15 and 16. My dad and my stepmom went through my room, twice. On both occasions they found womens clothing, which i would quite often wear to bed cause i felt so soothed by the soft fabric. I had leggings, and panties, and a sports bra, and a white tank top the first time. Even back then i always loved the way leggings hugged my lower half, and how relaxing and comfortable sleep was in them. Back then it was a source of comfort, i "dressed up" in order to cull the anxiety i had from putting on this mask every day. It was killing me.

I made fun of, i bullied my own kind, i bullied the LGBTQ community as a whole. I did it because i wanted to distance myself from my own identity, and cause i was jealous of other trans women who were already in their transitions and living their best lives!! I became a homophobic, misogynistic asshole to just get away from it, and to make sure nobody would ever expect it. I hate that period of my life, i look back on it in deep shame.

But then one day i moved into a place that i would eventually feel safe in. I was 18 now, and just starting to really get worn down by drugs and mental illness. But i turned around there, and i got really close to the staff at this group home. They supported me like my parents would, even though they were a different nationality and spoke bad english i felt closer to the group home workers than almost anyone else. They talked me down when i was mad or crying. They helped me get further in life. I had thoughts of coming out one day, and how i could probably do it both in vancouver and in this house. I had thoughts of how it would go. Who to tell first, it raged in my head for a couple weeks. But one day i was with my therapist, we were driving around and i had just gotten a cheddar bacon angus burger from mcdonalds with a vanilla bean frappuccino to drink. But before i could eat, my stomach wouldnt let me go on without telling my therapist whats really going on.

"I dont know how to say this ashley, but its been on my mind since i was 13 and ive planned out the whole process in my head already! Im fucking trans, im a woman, i want to be a girl and im tired of putting on this rough and tough mask just to try and fit in and be a man!! Im tired of rough, i want soft!! I want to have boobs!! I want to have nice long legs with thick hips! I want to see the sparkle come back to my eyes! I want to see my smile have happyness behind it, and not nothing, im tired of faking it!! Im scared, i could never do this around my dad, or in kelowna!! But ive got a fresh start in this city, and i know i can do it with the supports i have!! Everything i did was to please someone else, and i tried to be the best man i could to hide it.. im not a man though, im a happy, beautiful girl and im tired of hiding her!!"

That was 2017, in the spring. I was a drug addict back then, and i lived full time as a girl for 3 whole months!! Although i was so happy, and felt so comfortable in my skin i couldnt handle it once i lost my supports on top of my addiction.

On september 14th 2017, i buried Jenna for a while. I felt so horrible, even rhough i knew it was temporary i didnt know how temporary it would be. I was scared to be a boy now, and i felt even more dysphoric full well knowing the result of transitioning and the improvements to my mental health. Burying jenna was burying who i am. It couldn't last long, and once i got sober on december 15th 2018, and got myself into a safe space again in march. By late april i couldnt hold jenna inside me anymore, she needed out, jenna needed to bloom and grow big and strong!! I came out a second time to my mother and my grandmother who were both as accepting as two people who know no trans people aside from me can be. It went well, i told them it was time for me to resume my transition.

They were there for me when i reached out to Skipping stone, and got hooked up with a gender therapist. By august i had a date for when i would start hormones, october 9th 2019. On october 9th i was tense, i just wanted it to go right. I even had a little freakout in my appointment at my phone. But, after driving an hour and half each way, i walked out of my doctors office still in boy mode, but with a script for cyproterone and estradiol!! I started that night!!

When i started hrt, i was a different person in two weeks, i wasnt jayden, i was jenna. I acted way more feminine, my skin got softer, my erogenous zones changed, my voice got higher, my testicles shrunk. The feminization process had begun! I had emotional breaks here and there, and it hasnt been easy all the time. But my bad days today are still better than my best days when i was playing a character, acting as jayden. Today when i get sad, i put on something cute, and i take some cute pics and i look at them. I love it when i can honestly say, i love the way im changing. How my face lost the wrinkles of 5 years of bad habits in two months!! How my breasts are here and so so sensitive, i feel them moving on my chest and theyre like little stress sacks there for me to squeeze and hold when im feeling down!! I love the feeling of weight on my chest, and the jiggle when i walk or hit bumps on my bike! My medical transition so far is destroying any bit of my dysphoria!

I think trans is beautiful, because theres something just so positive, so god damn enlightening and beautiful. About one mans journey to woman. My body is changing, its curves being accentuated, its features becoming more noticeable by the day. I feel so much joy when i see a change, when i notice my body looks feminine. Or when i get compliments, like "my god youve got legs for days!!" It makes me know for a fact i chose right, cause im a beautiful girl, going through this beautiful process with beautiful changes.

Jenna jayde is a girl, i wasnt born a girl, but i make a better girl than i ever could have a boy. Wearing clothes that make me happy, and feel hugged all over from the soft tight fabric. Feeling emotions i never thought existed after a while on hrt!

Its so beautiful, like a sunflower swaying slightly in the summer breeze!

Life is better now, its worth standing up and fighting for.

Woot woot!! Its trans positivity jenna!! Woot woot!!

[bending-sickle]

motherfuckers be like “oh just enjoy doing the craft it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t come out perfect” and i’m like “karen, it’s clothes i want to wear. in public. and feel good in. i have Standards.”

so do y’all want to hear about Ye Saga of how i have failed to make a dress? that i started in may of last year? and have put in i think over 50 hours? unless it’s 80. (i had to redo another dress last year because again, fuckery, and my sewing log gets confusing.)

so literally every step of this has been discouraging and has had to be done at least twice and every time the potential end result just keeps getting worse and worse.

we start off with the cloth. it’s polyester and therefore shit. double-shit because it’s for a summer dress and i might as well wrap myself in seran wrap. The pattern is floral but not quite enchanting but i buy it anyway because it’s a shitload of cloth and only 3 euros because it’s from the scrap heap.

and then i try to make a pattern for it, frankensteining two or three different historical options for which i only have the vaguest of “this is kinda what the pieces looked like. good luck scaling it up to anything usuable.” so there was a lot of drafting, redrafting, measuring, re-redrafting.

then there were the mock-ups to test out the pattern. so many mock ups. so many oh god. pins everywhere. all the contortionism to try and pin the cloth and not myself. more sewing. trying to scavange cloth bits to try and make yet another tester. it was hell.

then i went on to the lining, because even though the cloth was literally plastic, it was slightly see-through and idk, fancy clothes have lining, right? so i piece together the lining from my mom’s old pants’ lining. i sew it up all nice with great seams. let’s leave that tragedy waiting because then

then i started on the bodice of the dress. and i really wanted to put piping in between the seams so you could actually see all the nice piecing - especially in the back - that i had worked so hard on. i was super excited because i had ribbon just the perfect shade and it would be so, so very pretty. i sew up so much piping. (this is cord wrapped in rippon, like you can find on pillow edgins and stuff.) i sew the dress top, putting in the piping. the piping decides to be the boss and fuck up every curve. there is no using the piping and still having a dress that won’t stand up by itself and prance around like madonna’s bullet bra. the piping has to go. this makes the dress not as cool as i’d been hoping. in fact, the main point of all the effort in the pattern design has just gone out the window because you can’t see the nice shapes i’ve made with each piece. but whatever. it fits. so i resew the bodice.

bodice is looking good. i attach the lining, which, i mean “attach” is such a short word for all the sewing, pinning, more sewing, cutting, and fussing that happened. but i get it done. half of the dress is now done.

but no. remember the tragedy we left hanging with no period after the senence up there, a couple paragraphs back? yeah.

you can see the lining seams through the dress. which. not good. so i redo the lining. and i mean i just could have redone the gone that went down the center front, now that i think of it, and just accepted the blazing white lines of seams under the dress in the other parts, but no, i wanted things done right.

but i couldn’t do things right because i’d done them perfect before. meaning opening up the seams meant i now had much less seam space to work with, meaning OH HAI THE LINING CLOTH IS JUST GOING TO RIP APART BECAUSE YOU HAVE SO LITTLE TO WORK WITH OH MY BAD. so i do a shitty job of the lining.

whatever. the skirt

i gather up the skirt so it has nice little scrunchy bits at the waist. i redo this long, ong process at least three times.

i put the skirt together with the bodice. i also do this attempt so many times. eight months later, i’ll realize i did it wrong and could have avoided so many hours of work and headache but no. no, i put it on the way i did, because fuck my life right now.

but we’re not done with the lining.

i try and put it in with the skirt. won’t work won’t fit. redo it a few times. the cloth starts screaming and dissolving. i try and save the edges even though theyre now hideous. i end up just sewing little anchor lines to the lining, making it officially the most ugly lining in the history of any atempts.

this next step is what made me give up for half a year, because there’s the hem. and remember how i fucked up putting in the skirt? yeah. so the waist of the dress isn’t a straight line, making the hem...not a straight line, if i just take a ruler from the bottom and say “yeah let’s lop off some 50 cms and it’ll be level and good” then the bottom of the skirt is going to be a droopy, wavy mess, waving in shame at all other dresses.

so i fold, pin, hand-sew, re-fold, re-pin, re-resew the goddamned hem again, so many times, trying to just get the damned bottomg of the skirt level, at whatever length. i sort of managed.

then i gave up for half a year, meaning that summer dress was not seeing  peek of that year’s summer.

so i took my gonads in both hands this week and tried again with the skirt and that’s when i realized how difficult i’d made everything for myself because there was all that folding, pinning, sewing fun factory again, in triplicate. but i managed to get the hem to the length i wanted and i tried it on.

and the lining tore. just shredded itself to little pieces like the little fucker it was.

which means that after sewing that thing up twice, sewing it down twice - or was it thrice - i had to take the scissors to it and chop it off. chop, i say, because i was not going to unsew all the bodice bits. there were SLEEVES involved.

speaking of sleeves while i was cutting off the lining with all the care in the world i ended up cutting a little hole in one of the sleeves. because fuck everything. and since this is polyester shit, i couldn’t sew the hle up because the edges kept fraying like they were trying to become one with the dust bunnies. so i tried sewing it up like it was a buttng hole or something only apparently my fingers and eyes and skills and everything were in another room because wow it ugly.

so that was a great achievement in the unfucking of this dress fiasco.

so now i had a dress with no lining except the little shreds of shame along the edge of the bodice and a wonky hem.and the bodice was all floaty in the wrong places because it didn’t have the support of the lining helping it out and it’s, again, poly-fucking-ester.

today i did yet more of the same shit i’d done yesterday and got the hem as leastwonky as possible. i then asked my mom to help un-wonkify the hem. as i stood in front of the mirror with the bodice flopping everywhere, the lines of the pices i cut out lost in the sauce of the pattern, the scrunched up waist of the skirt not really giving nice folds but only one big belly balloon, and overall the general image of the dress being “...goddamn fuck no shit god i feel so ugly all that work and it makes me feel ugly” i thought...well, all that, and also how many hours i’d invested into this and how i might just not even wear it after all.

and then i was ironing it and thinking “maybe if i cannibalise it and make it into a skirt only and redo the bodice using the cloth on top of another one like a new lining or just a white cotton, and make it an outfit...”

but that would mean redoing this dress a third time. which, no.

also? i bought two types of ribbon thiking i could still do the piping effect on the seams, make the dress have a little oomf, but it’s just so much work already for such an ugly thing that will make me sweat like a beached whale in summer and be worn like, twice, that just... god, set the damned thing on fire maybe. what is the point.

also? since i’m the one making it, the labour is free, and idiots on the internet would be like “oh, so the cloth was 3 euros? so  it’s a 3 euro dress? cheap! noice! who cares if it isn’t perfect?” and i’ll be like... me and my 50 hours of manual labour say it isn’t 3 euros worth, karen.

so i am incredibly discouraged and disappointed and if this whole experience doesn’t sum up my entire life. like, put in the work. do it perfect. do it again. do everything right and then it’ll all amount to nothing. congratualtions, you’ve just wasted half of your life.

i mean...

dress ugly. me tired. fuck everything.

so yeah i’m going to sew the hem up one of these days and call it quits.

[ninzied]

another kind of goodbye

for @carry-the-sky. happy birthday, my friend! have a little post-cancellation kastle fic.

It’s three months, give or take, when Frank lets himself think about her again. Really think about her. Not in the passing kind of way, where he’s walking down some street and sees a bouquet of gardenias, like the kind he’d almost gotten her instead of the roses that day. Or when he’s sipping on coffee, and Karen’s face flashes like a mirage at him across the cheap Formica table – blonde hair almost white under the shit diner lighting, but those eyes still so blue as she told him he would never lie to her.

So – okay, so he thinks about her. He thinks about her.

(He wonders if she—)

Frank eventually makes his way back to the city again, after. Another day, another job. Madani thinks he’s meant for something greater than this – than picking off these scum-of-the-earth kinds of assholes that litter the streets of a place like New York.

He can’t believe that he was meant for greater, but. Sometimes, he does wonder. If a part of him – whatever part of him that’s not still buried deep down in the ground with his family – was meant to come back here. To walk these streets and feel the pull of her, always, even when that’s all he can afford to feel.

He tells himself that has to be enough.

He’s been laying low, since his return. Coughed up some cash for a three-hundred-square-footer in Brooklyn, but he crosses the bridge to the city most days, maybe even finds his way to Hell’s Kitchen from time to time too. It’s risky, he knows. If Murdock catches wind of him, they’d be lucky to walk away from each other in one piece. And Karen…

There’d be a different kind of hell to pay, if Karen ever found out.

His phone gives a single buzz in his pocket as he’s hunkering his way down 47th, and he stops in his tracks, nearly colliding with an elderly woman in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Excuse me!” she says in a shrill voice, bag clutched tight to her chest.

“Apologies, ma’am,” he nods as she makes a show of putting as much distance between them as possible, and then he fishes his phone out, hesitating for one absurd moment before glancing down at the screen.

Back in town yet, Castle?

He barks out a laugh. Chrissakes, Madani.

His phone buzzes again.

I have a job for you, if you’re still interested.

“Still,” mutters Frank, with a scoffing shake of his head. He thinks he admires her perseverance, but Madani’s gotta know she’s only wasting her breath.

He cuts south down 10th, toward Lincoln Tunnel. It’s a brisk day, and the wind on his face feels sharper than usual, considering he hasn’t bled much there in a while. He jams his hands deeper into his pockets, ignoring the insistent drone of Madani’s follow-up call.

He’s got a date with a park bench on the wrong side of town, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s the same bridge overlooking the water, and when he opens them again Karen’ll be there, waiting for him.

…

His closest call comes with, of all people, the lawyer. Not Red – the other one. Franklin Nelson.

Frank’s emerging with coffee two storefronts down just as another door opens, and he’s cursing himself for not seeing the signs when out tumbles Nelson with his back turned, adjusting his tie against the wind.

“Foggy bear, wait!” someone else is laughing, and a blonde lady steps out to chase after him, slinging a purse over her shoulder and reaching with her other hand to link around his elbow.

“I told him this was gonna make me late for work,” grumbles Nelson, but without any heat to the words. “Dad’s surprise party isn’t until tomorrow, don’t know why this couldn’t have waited – oh, crap, I forgot I told Karen I’d pick up some coffee—”

Nelson’s about-facing sharply, girlfriend following closely behind. He doesn’t appear to notice Frank crouched down in a corner by the 7-Eleven, hood obscuring half his face as he trains his eyes on the ground by their feet. The girl unearths some coins from her bag as they pass, clinking them onto the lid of Frank’s coffee cup without seeming to hear his low mutter of thanks.

He’s leapt up the moment he hears the door latch shut, brushing the coins into his palm as he goes.

He leaves them with a guy camped out by the train stop, a dog lifting her head from their blankets to blink sleepy eyes up at Frank, and he walks away harder, takes the steps two at a time and wishes – God he wishes—

…

Another text from Madani.

He shuts his phone off. Goes back to retrieve it ten seconds later from the trash can that he’d dumped it in, wiping it down and scowling as her message pops up on the screen.

Castle – offer still stands, FYI.

“You should call her back,” advises a man huddled down by the newsstands next to him. His face is like leather, worn down and weathered with age, with living. “Apologize for whatever it is that you did, so you don’t end up out here like me.”

“Already there,” Frank tells him, turning the phone over and over in his hand. Madani’s message lights up again each time, flashing and flashing until he sees it like a burn through his retinas even when the phone’s no longer facing him.

“Damn. That’s a damn shame.” The guy shifts, scratching at a spot on his back. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve stayed away from her for so long.”

Frank shakes his head, uttering a short, incredulous laugh. “Well, maybe I got my reasons, yeah? You think about that?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” shrugs the guy. “Does she think they’re any good? These reasons of yours?”

Frank turns away, jaw working furiously.

“Yeah.” The guy shouldn’t have any right to sound as smug as he does, and yet. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

…

He’s got no place in coming here. He knows it. He knows it, but he thinks it was always meant to be this way, him circling back around to her, even after everything that he’s done to push her away. Maybe a part of him had never left. And the rest is just – there, hovering right at the edge of some sharp realization, that he could try to be whole again if he simply took that first step. And a part of Karen must at least sense that. It’s why she’d never really given up on him, before.

It doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Frank wonders if she’d forgive him this time. If he’d even want her to.

It wouldn’t be anything close to what he deserves, that’s for goddamn sure.

He gazes up at her fire escape, counts the number of steps it would take just to be able to reach that bottom rung from his vantage point across the street. Her shades are drawn, the lines of them blurred out in the dim orange light. On one corner of the windowsill, wedged up against the glass, there’s a small stack of books. On the other, a vase. From this angle, the shadows folded into the fabric of her curtains look almost like flower stems.

Frank squints, and the stems disappear.

…

There’s about a week in between, where he feels himself inching closer to something, each time he drops by her block. He never goes farther than the patch of sidewalk across from her building, but it’s getting harder not to just careen over the ledge.

More than anything, he wishes he knew, in those moments obscured in half-darkness, whether he’s come to look for that after she’d spoke of, or if he’s come to say goodbye.

Then, one day he spots flowers in her window, for the first time since—

(They’re pale white against the cream of her curtains, their stems dark slivers of green, and he imagines them pricking the pad of his thumb, drawing up a spot of blood.)

Frank takes a deep breath.

…

She doesn’t look surprised to see him when she opens the door, swinging it back two-thirds of the way before stopping. Her lips are pressed tightly together, like there’s too much to say, or maybe there’s things that she can’t, either way he can’t read her and he thinks she’s never terrified him more.

Frank drops his gaze, mouth moving soundlessly until the words grind their way out. “How’d you know I was here, Karen?”

He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting. That Nelson had grown a real pair of eyes, or that Red had managed to ferret him out of his lurking somehow. Or maybe Karen really just hadn’t known at all, and those flowers were never for him.

What Karen says instead is, “Dinah and I grab a beer together, sometimes.”

“That right?” he asks, trying to lay out an image of this in his mind. It sits strangely there, stumping him for a moment, and some of his bewilderment must show on his face because Karen’s mouth almost turns up in a smile before flattening again.

She leans away from the doorjamb, waving her hand in a worn-looking gesture before letting it drop to her side. “Besides, you…haven’t exactly been subtle, in your haunting of Hell’s Kitchen.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, other than a gruff, “’S’what dead men do, Karen,” as she folds her arms and sighs at him.

“You sure you’re not just losing your touch, Frank?” She steps into the doorway, whether to move closer to him or to block him out of her apartment, he can’t tell. “Or was it because you wanted me to know but couldn’t tell me to my face?”

His eyes snap up to hers, twitching slightly under the sharp weight of her gaze. He shakes his head, wishing he could just ask her, What do you want from me, Karen? but they’re long past that now, and if he can’t find his own way to answer her, then.

God, he really doesn’t deserve this woman.

“I think I—” He shifts his body and tries again. “I think I needed to figure some things out. Karen. I was waiting 'til I felt like I was ready, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that.” But I’m here, he wants to say, but I’m here.

“Yeah.” Karen’s nodding, hair falling into her face, and she brushes it back, resting her chin in her palm for a moment. “I know that, Frank.” All of the fight in her seems to have ebbed slowly back, and he resists the urge to reach out and shake the storm back into motion, to make her understand she doesn’t get to let him off the hook so easy.

The look she gives him now is softer, but he knows. Fight’s not done. May never be done. And he knows this because he knows he’ll never stop fighting for her.

She’s stepped back into the door, letting it swing open further. She doesn’t invite him in, but she’s quirked an eyebrow up at him, biting her lip with another deep sigh and a shake of her head.

“You, uh.” Frank glances back and forth at their surroundings, doesn’t quite meet her eye. Tries to lighten his tone through the gruffness as he asks her, “So, you wanted to see me?”

Her voice is soft, forbearing, with a hint of gentle knowing behind it. “You didn’t?”

She’s holding back the clear start of a smile from him this time, and Frank. Christ. It’s taking everything in him not to step toward her, to—

Karen tilts her chin at him, the motion loosening another wave of blonde hair, and he can’t remember anymore why he was trying so hard to stand back from all this. He’s moving, swaying forward until she’s just an arm’s length away, and there’s something almost teasing about the way she relaxes her shoulder into the door as she watches him.

“You back to kill some people, Frank?”

He feels a corner of his mouth turn up. This girl. He licks his lips, lets out a quiet sort of laugh. “That was the plan, yeah.”

Karen gazes up at him, unblinking. “Have you?”

“I was—” Frank has to look away for a moment, finally turning back when he can. His eyes are steady, boring into hers, voice low and full with meaning. “I was. Working on it.”

Karen nods. Doesn’t speak for long seconds, and he measures them out in heartbeats, chest tightening hard enough it feels like it might break when she asks him, very carefully, “Still?”

Frank steps closer, close enough to feel the way her breath shakes with a small sigh, how her body moves away from the door to meet him.

His hand is inches from hers, but he doesn’t reach for her. Not yet.

She waits, gaze searching. He gives the barest shake of his head, and a single word, gravel-filled, a promise. “No.”

Something cracks open in her expression, and it means everything to him, her head ducking away as though she can’t have him looking too closely at the way she's biting back that smile of hers, and he thinks – he thinks he wants to make her do it again, and again, for as long as she will have him.

“Would you like to come in, Frank?”

He takes her hand in his this time, feeling the pull of her as he steps across the threshold, door shutting firmly behind them, and it feels like coming home.

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Shameful

Pairing: Bakugou x Koge (OC)

Koge’s Tag

Rating: Teen, for cursing and suggestive conversation

Word Count: 4,309

Me 3:09 PM: Hey love, I just got off the train. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, okay?

Cutesuki 3:11 PM: ok. just show the guard at the door your id, theyll let you in.

Me 3:11 PM: What, they don’t know who I am by now? （＾ｖ＾）

Cutesuki 3:12 PM: utsuro theyre just following my rules. you could be a shapeshifter coming to try and kill me.

Me 3:12 PM: Ooh, true. (¬‿¬) But what if I have a fake ID, too?

Cutesuki 3:14 PM: they can tell. ill order you an access badge.

Me 3:15 PM: So I can come whenever I want?! (⊙ᗜ⊙)

Cutesuki 3:15 PM: not if you act like that you cant.

Me 3:16 PM: Oh, sorry. I’ll be stoic. (・∀・) And mean. All your employees will hate me.

Cutesuki 3:16 PM: probably

Me 3:17 PM: Uh, I was joking! (ｰ ｰ;)

Cutesuki 3:17 PM: lol

Koge gave a small roll of her eyes, placing her phone back into her jacket pocket. The chill of the mid winter air fogged her breath, making her feel like she was walking through clouds. Why the weather decided to get so awful on her day off was beyond her, but she hated it. Not only was it her day off, she also had special plans that involved a lot of walking. The act of walking isn’t want got to her, but the fact that it was so cold her nose felt like it was frozen solid did. Even though she was wrapped head to toe in warm clothing, the petite woman felt like an icicle, and the thought of stopping at an approaching coffee shop peaked her interest.

Hm, coffee sounds good, she thought to herself. I wonder if Katsuki would want something. It’s a bit late in the afternoon, but he’s probably worn out. I’ll get him one.

Ducking into the shop, Koge got herself a nice hot cup of straight black coffee and Bakugou his odd mixture of what he always preferred. The man liked spicy coffee, which really wasn’t all that much of a surprise to her, though she couldn’t help but pick on him for his enjoyment of it. There was always the retaliation that she was a freak for liking straight black coffee, which was just as bitter as her personality.

‘That’s okay,’ Koge would always tell him, sly grin on her face. ‘You’re married to me, so you must like my bitter personality.’

Sipping on the hot bitterness from her cup, Koge continued down the sidewalk after her purchase, her body warmed by the drink. She wasn’t the only one to relish in the joy, however, as there was a series of movements from her swollen abdomen. “Oof, chill out there, girl.” Koge whispered quietly to the frozen air. “You always get way too excited when I drink coffee.” Rounding a corner, Koge’s gaze was pulled towards the large building across the street at the end of the block.

Damn, it was ugly. A huge, industrial style with very few windows, and it almost made Koge think that it had popped right out of a post-apocalyptic movie. The thing looked like it could withstand a bomb, with thick dark grey concrete, pipes and steel decorating the exterior. Yes, it was architecturally brilliant, but that didn’t make Koge thing it was any less ugly. Still, it was noticeable, recognizable and marketed perfectly for who worked inside. This had been the first time she had seen this new building, as her lover had just finished construction of this new firm headquarters and moved his entire team just a week ago.

After carefully crossing the street, Koge made her way to what she assumed was the entrance, noticing the two guards standing outside chatting. They seemed quite lax, something that Koge knew Bakugou might snap at them about, but she decided to keep it to herself. Conversation coming to a halt as she approached, one guard whom she was familiar with gave her a welcoming smile. Although this middle aged man had a kind face, Koge had seen him take down people with no mercy or hesitation. She liked him enough, and if Bakugou trusted him, then she could as well.

“Hello, Koge! Come to see the new building, eh?” He held out his hand, not in a way to shake hands, but was silently asking for her ID. Koge nodded, handing both of the coffee cups out towards the other guard, who took them from her. “Hold those, please? And yeah, it’s finally my day off so I can come see it.” After digging through her pocket, she removed her wallet and fished out her ID, giving it to the waiting man before her. He took it, turning on a small flashlight and shining it on the plastic.

“How’s the kiddo?”

“Ah, he’s with his grandparents today. The other is still latched to me.” Koge patted her swollen belly gently, waiting patiently for the return of her ID. With a small chuckle, the guard handed it back to her, turning off his flashlight and placing it back into his pocket. “Not for too much longer. Head on in, I think he’s in his office on the top floor. If not his secretary will tell you.” While Koge put her ID away, he flashed a badge to a sensor on the wall, the large glass doors sliding open with a beep. Koge took her coffee back, heading inside after thanking the two men.

Ooh, secretary. How spoiled. But, he deserves it. He’s worked so hard to get to this point, and so quickly, too. He’s only twenty-seven and his hero firm has grown this huge! I’m so proud of him.

Much to her surprise, the inside of the building was a much more modern industrial style than the outside, with polished concrete and stylish brick walls. The furniture in the lobby matched the style, with red, orange and army green accents. How cute, he sure did decide to keep to his brand. I love it.

After a quick trip up the elevator, Koge followed the signs to Bakugou’s office. Before she could get in, she found she had to stop at a large desk, with three women sitting behind it, all doing computer work. Only gaining the attention of one of them when she approached the desk, she had to stand up on her toes to see the woman better. “Hi, I’m here to see Katsuki?”

The woman had visible surprise on her face at the use of Bakugou’s first name, cocking her head to the side a bit. “I’m sorry, but he’s in a meeting at this time with his Public Relations Manager. Were you… Did you have a meeting with him as well?”

Koge felt a twinge of annoyance at the mention of the PR person, giving a small cough to clear her throat. “I’m his wife. He’s expecting me.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but--”

“Yeah, no buts. Buzz me in, please.” Koge started towards the large doors that she assumed were the entrance, stopping at them when they still did not open. She glared over her shoulder at the women, who were glancing between themselves in confusion. “Buzz me in. Believe me, he likes me a lot more than caring about the slight inconvenience it would take to replace you.”

The woman that had spoken to her first gave a small cough to clear her throat, trying to stay firm. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but his Public Relations Manager stated that they should not be disturbed.”

Koge gave an annoyed click of her tongue. “I’m sure she did. You’re really going to fight with me on this one, huh?” Placing both cups of coffee down on a small decorative table that rested at the edge of the doors, she pulled out her phone.

Me 3:32 PM: Your little brats out here won’t let me in. They say your PR lady told them to not let anyone in.

Within the minute, the doors opened, an obviously annoyed Bakugou standing in the doorway. His glare was immediately locked on the women at the desk, who shifted about nervously in their chairs. The main one spoke up, quickly standing to show him respect. “I-I’m sorry, sir, it’s just that Ms. Ito--”

“I don’t care what she said. I gave you permission to let this woman in, did I not?” Bakugou approached Koge, noticing the coffee and picking it up for her. “Yours?” He addressed her directly, his expression softening. Koge smiled, giving a small nod. “And yours.”

The woman at the desk he had addressed gave a low bow. “I’m sorry, Sir! It won’t happen again!” Bakugou started back through the large doors, Koge at his heels. “We’ll discuss it later.” Koge didn’t have time to see the reactions of the women as the doors snapped shut behind them, looking up at her lover curiously. “Are they new?”

Bakugou sighed, giving a nod as they made their way down a small hallway, which displayed his awards, trophies, paper certificates and permits. “Yes. Well, a few months at least. But they are scared of Ito. Everyone here thinks she’s vice president or some shit when she’s literally only the PR person. Irritates me.” In his frustration, he brought up one of the cups of coffee, taking a sip before Koge could tell him it was the wrong one. The cringe that crossed his features as he swallowed the bitter black water made her giggle, and he quickly handed the cup to her. “Ugh, fuck that shit is gross!”

Laughing, Koge took the cup, watching as he downed a large gulp of his coffee to rid himself of the taste. “Aw, it is not. Yours is the one that’s gross.” Bakugou shook his head, giving a satisfied hum. “No way, it’s good. Thanks.” He held the ID that hung around his neck up to a sensor, the door opening for them. Once open, Koge’s gaze immediately landed on the obviously flustered woman that stood beside a large dry erase board, impatiently tapping her foot.

Koge couldn’t believe how much she wanted to kick this womans ass, just from looking at her. Sure, she knew that anyone who worked so directly with Bakugou needed to be strong willed and stubborn, but this woman wasn’t just that. She truly was the definition of a bitch.

“Sir, please, this really can’t wait.” Ito addressed Bakugou the instant he returned, pointing a marker to the board to bring attention to her writing. “I need you to approve these appointments so that I can get them paid for and scheduled.” Bakugou sighed, placing his coffee down on his desk before glaring at the annoying white board that he hated. “Why do you have to bring that stupid board in here? I hate looking at things on it, why can’t you just give it to me digitally.”

“This is the best way for me to explain myself to you, and I can easily put posters or flyers on the back side for you to see. It’s not the same when looking at them digitally.” The woman adjusted her glasses, tapping the board with her marker. “Just come read these ideas and let me know what you think.”

Koge read the information on the board as she removed her outer layers of clothing, setting them down on a couch against the wall. “He said that he would prefer the information digitally. Don’t you think you should listen to your boss?” Ito shot a sharp glare at her, tapping her nails against the plastic of the marker in her hand. “I know what works best for him, I’ve been doing this job for ten years, three of them being for this firm. I’d appreciate you keeping your comments to yourself.”

Bakugou shared a glance with Koge that told her to keep it down, to which she begrudgingly agreed with a huff. Arms crossing over her chest, she let them rest on her swollen belly, making her way closer to Bakugou’s desk as he read aloud what was on the board.

“Poster series… Blankets and shit…. More magazine stuff? No--” Bakugou shook his head, moving around the desk to his chair. “After the last magazine shoot, I don’t want to do that shit again.” He pulled the chair out from under the desk, motioning for Koge to sit. She did so happily, leaning back in the plush leather that comfortably supported her aching back. “Oh god, that last magazine thing was terrible! When they were done it didn’t even look like him.” Koge reached up to take his hand gently, which he allowed. “He looked better in the one before that, but… It was so saucy we couldn’t even show our son, who has been excited that his dad is in magazines since he knew what they were.”

Ito cleared her throat, removing Koge’s chance to speak again. “The last magazine was a huge hit. Another series is in serious demand, the public want more of that content.” Koge narrowed her eyes, a bit suspicious of this. “The public… or women? You do realize that Katsuki’s main demographic is teenage and young adult males, right?”

“The men go for the interviews and the women go for the pictures. If it makes money and doesn’t ruin his image, than it works.” Ito grabbed the top of the whiteboard, pulling it down so that the other side was visible. Koge let out a sharp laugh, annoyed and amused at the mock posters and photographs taped to the board. “Doesn’t ruin his image? Do you even realize how those types of things make him look?” With quite a bit of effort, she stood, waddling her way towards the board to see the images better.

Bakugou took her place in the chair, rubbing his temple. “Koge, it’s alright, it does work.” With a shake of her head, his lover pointed to one of the posters that had him displayed in a provocative pose, with just his mask on as the image stopped right at his hips. “No. This doesn’t even look like you at all. Look how skinny! You’re not thin like that.”

“What? I’m not fat—“

“That’s not what I’m saying! You’re… you’re buff Katsuki, you’re not a rail like this. I’m not saying you’re fat. But you’re body doesn’t look like this.” Koge looked up at Ito, the woman towering over her. “Why do you let them photoshop him so much?”

Ito gave a small huff, looking away from Koge, as if she were an eyesore. “I have no control over what the magazine company wants to do.”

“Not true, you have to approve it, like you are now. Katsuki, you haven’t noticed that?” Koge looked over towards her husband, who looked like he was about to throw them both out. “I don’t usually give a shit. I don’t notice how much they change me, if they do.”

“They do. I don’t know why they would. This is so much better.” Koge moved her finger to another poster, of Bakugou in mid battle. “This is how he should look. All scuffed up, angry and strong. He’s not a little sissy boy.”

Ito shook her head, pointing to a number above the sexier poster. “Look at this number, it’s higher than the one for that poster. That means that this style is more sought after—“

“By that demographic. By young adult women and teenage girls.” Koge made her way back over to Bakugous desk, opening a marketing binder that rested there. “You have numbers in here I’m sure and percentages based on different groups of people…” Bakugou watched her, but didn’t intervene. “Hm, you’re right, Koge. I’m pretty sure that eighty seven percent of my fan base isn’t into that shit.”

“They’re not! They can’t be—“ Koge was cut off by Ito snatching the binder back, holding it to her chest. “That’s company data! You can’t look at this.”

“I’ll have you know she can.” Bakugou snapped back. “Who do you think helps me with numbers and making decisions? I trust her more than a room of CEO air heads any day. Show her your numbers, I’m interested in what she’s talking about.”

“But Sir—“

“Fine, then let me see them.” He held his hand out towards her, to which Ito reluctantly handed the binder over. Bakugou flipped though it for a minute as Koge came around the desk to join him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “I’m pretty positive that data is being pulled from demographic percentages depending on age, gender and location. Here, see.” Koge put an accusing finger on a chart. “Eighty seven percent of women from age sixteen to twenty three want more of that photoshop nonsense. But that age group is only thirty something percent of your fan base.”

Koge gave Ito a glance, noticing that she wasn’t going to give in to this. “I think you’re trying to cater to a group of people that doesn’t really matter all that much. Or maybe…” She placed her hand on the top of Bakugou’s head, ruffling his hair gently. “Maybe to things that you want to see, huh?” Ito’s face instantly flushed red. “What?! Who do you think you are, to say something like that to me! That is absolutely ridiculous!”

“I don’t think it is. I think you’re taking advantage of his ignorance when it comes to the marketing side of his brand. That’s why he hired you, because he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He may be smart, but he has no time to deal with that type of nonsense.” Koge moved her hand down to Bakugou’s back, a bit surprised that he was so quiet about all of this. “You say you know what’s best for him? You aren’t even listening to what he wants, what he likes, or even what the majority of his demographic wants.”

Heading back to the board, Koge pointed at the image of him in battle. “Look at this. Look at how both sexy and strong he looks. His body is completely unedited, his costume is a bit ripped in places. He’s sweaty and grungy and that glare is enough to make the ladies need to change their underwear. But that is a woman looking at it. A man, or a young boy aspiring to be a hero, would look at this and think, he looks so cool. So badass. So strong. Okay sure, some men might fight him sexy and a lot of women will find him powerful.” She shared an amused glance with her lover, who only glared at her with his ears red in embarrassment.

“You release that?” She gestured to the more sexual image, disgust crossing her features. “You’re only going to hit a small percentage of his fan base. But this?” Again, she slapped her entire palm over the more powerful poster. “You release this and you will hit everyone. Because this is sexy and powerful. If you respected him and his image, you wouldn’t be making him do the sex appeal thing.” Koge let out a long breath, feeling a bit winded from her ranting. “He might be attractive, but not in that type of way. That’s more of a pretty-boy type of thing.”

Ito shook her head, hands firmly on her hips. “I don’t agree. I think you just don’t want your husband half naked out for the world to see.” Koge sputtered an amused laugh, both hands on her stomach as the child inside wiggled about. “Listen lady, I could care less what other women see of him. Because only I get the full show. Get it? That man on the poster isn’t even my Katsuki. It’s a fake. Where are his scars? They even smoothed out some of the muscle lines to make him look less muscular!” Koge glared up at the taller women, who finally seemed on the edge of breaking.

“You have no right to come in here and criticize me for doing my job.”

“But you’re not doing your job. You know, I don’t like you.” Koge made her way back over to Bakugou, who stood and once again gave her his chair to sit, which she accepted gladly. “Ever since Katsuki hired you. For petty things at first, like at one point I was really upset that you and him were constantly going on trips. I was jealous that you got to see him all the time when I didn’t. But now, I just realize that you’re awful.” She took a sip of her coffee, glad to see that it was still warm. “It’s so obvious that you’re taking advantage of his ignorance of what needs to be done for his image. I’m not going to let you do that to him.”

Ito was red faced now, completely flustered and embarrassed at being called out. Koge didn’t care. But, she also didn’t want to cause discourse in Bakugous firm.

“But… I will admit that on the things that don’t involve him with his tits out, you do very well. The meet ‘n greets, the autographs, his book, his interviews, they’re all fantastic. So you do know how to do your job. I truly think that this is just a hiccup driven by personal desire.” Koge closed the binder in front of her, pushing it back over towards Ito, who was staring at Koge in surprise.

“You can have a crush on my husband all you want.” Koge spoke quite curt, planning on getting her point across the first time. “But you won’t have him. So if that was your goal, this little sexy series? I truly hope it stops here. Every once in a while, sure, let him model underwear for an ad because he’s got a nice butt. I won’t be quiet the next time I see him being degraded like that.” She looked up at Bakugou, who was staring down at her with intense focus. She gave him a small smile, effectively breaking him out of his daze. “Do you agree with me, Katsuki?”

Bakugou turned his crimson glare to Ito, who was standing there red faced and leaking guilt. “This is something I just didn’t even notice… I just thought it was all normal, I hear about that half and half bastard doing this shit, and even Deku.” Koge nodded, opening one of his drawers to peek into it curiously. “Mhmm, but that’s a part of their look. Of their brand. They’re pretty boys. You are raw power, Katsuki. Believe me, women find that just as attractive as your fake photoshopped abs.” She pulled out a stress ball that resembled his gauntlets, beginning to squeeze it and pass it between both hands. “I love these. Another good decision you helped make, Ito.”

Ito only gave a small nod. “I won’t let it happen again. But… these are already almost finished contracts. We can’t back out of them, now, these companies will never work with us again.” Bakugou sighed, moving to stroke Koge’s hair gently as he thought. Then, as she looked up at him, an idea crossed his mind.

“Koge. We’ve never done anything, have we?”

“Eh?” Koge felt a bit of heat rush to her cheeks, giving a small shake of her head. “N-no…” Bakugou looked back over towards Ito, nodding to motion her to come over. “Change the contacts, to do do a family shoot and interviews.” Koge took his hand, a bit of worry creasing her brow. “Are you sure? Is that safe?”

“No one knows where we live, not even the people that work here. I want to do it, with you and Matsu.” He held her hand tightly, the excited interest on his face filling Koge’s stomach with butterflies. Smiling she kissed the back of his hand. “Okay. Let’s do it, then.”

As Ito came up to take her binder, Bakugou put his hand on it, stopping her. “Make it happen, Ito. Though, we will have to discuss your behavior further. I can’t just let it go.” Ito nodded, taking her binder when Bakugou released it. “Yes, sir. I’ll have the contact sent to you digitally for review. Thank you for… not firing me right off the bat.”

“I wouldn’t want him to fire you.” Koge spoke up, catching the womans attention. “Like I said, you do your job well. All of this that he has is with your help. But you gotta stop the thirst.”

“Y-yes, Ma’am. I don’t want to be rude, but… for someone so small, you’re kind of scary.”

“I’m married to Katsuki. I have to be a little scary, right?”

“I suppose…” With another bow, the woman left with her dry erase board in tow, the wheels making an annoying squeak as they rolled. When she was finally gone, Koge sighed, turning the chair to face Bakugou. “Holy shit, Katsuki, what was that creature.”

Bakugou scoffed, leaning over the chair a bit, gripping the arm rests for support. “Utsuro, that is what is known as a woman with a huge crush on the big boss who’s married and is still trying to get into his pants.”

“She’s icky. I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

“You were right, though. Thanks.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head, moving his hands to caress her belly. “How’s she?” Koge placed her hands over his, smile crossing her lips. “She’s great, Katsuki. She’s been a little wiggly thing all day, though.” Bakugou nodded, able to feel the child against his palms. “It’s because you’re all worked up. How about a tour?”

“I’d like that, Katsuki. After a kiss. Or two.”

“Or ten.”

“You know me too well.”

[patroncrow]

1-69 >:3

i had to turn on my laptop just to copy/paste this all. im putting it under a cut to spare any innocent followers

also you cheeky fuck lol

1. What’s your darkest kink?

completely being dominated. few get the chance or the honor tho

2. How many people have you had sex with?

one. we were together for a long while so i never got the chance.

i might be changing that before long

3. What the most times you’ve ever orgasmed in one night?

i honestly dont know but this did remind me of an embarrassing story lol

4. What’s your favorite sex position?

it really depends on my mood :3

5. Describe the best sex you’ve ever had.

i was drunk, in a mood all day, and accidentally gave a hickey above the collar. his boss gave him shit for it but he couldn’t get me back cause he cant give them (which is a shame)

6. Have you ever had a one night stand?

never had the chance

7. Describe your most desired fantasy.

see #1

8. Describe your darkest fantasy.

see #7

9. What’s your sexiest feature?

ive been told i have a really nice ass

10. Have you ever been to a strip club?

most the decent ones around here you have to be 21, i hear. they dont really seem like my scene tho

11. Where’s the best place to have sex?

where the mood strikes. just lock the doors

12. Where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?

the living room. in my defense, there were at least 2 other ppl in the house, and it had a walk-in policy. there was a decent risk of someone showing up

but this did lead to an amusing conversation that went something like “what if your dad walks in?” “then ill sit up and say ‘dad im busy, get out!’”

13. Where would you like to have sex, but haven’t yet?

location isnt a big thing for me

14. If you could have sex with one celebrity, who would it be?

ive never really had celeb crushes. i identified as ace until not long ago (im open to giving chances, but im picky about who ill show interest in first)

15. What sounds do you make during sex?

oh, golly. depends how much fun im having

but its not that breathy-ass shit in porn

16. Are you loud during sex?

see #15

17. Describe the outfit you feel sexiest in.

do partial ones count? i like just not having a shirt. cargo pants, skinny jeans, whatever. just without a top.

18. What’s your favorite punishment?

never been punished. ex was a puss lol

19. What’s your favorite position for spanking?

never really had positions for it. i like being grabbed more

20. Do you like to have/leave marks?

yes

21. What’s your favorite thing to clamp nipples with?

never done that

22. How long have you denied/or been denied an orgasm?

0 seconds

23. Have you ever had sex in a “dungeon”?

nope

24. Are you into bondage?

mmmyeah

25. What is your favorite thing to do for aftercare?

never really been in the scene enough to know much about that

26. What’s your favorite thing to tie up or be tied up with?

ive only used cuffs & ties. i liked the latter better

27. Are you a Dom or a Sub? Would you ever consider being a switch?

im a sub but if im in a really big mood i can switch

its a strong expression of desire not to be taken for granted

28. Do you prefer gags or blindfolds?

never used either but blindfolds might be cool

29. Have you ever had a threesome?

no despite a long ass time with someone who wanted nothing more and wouldnt shut up until i put my foot down that i wasnt comfortable with that unless i had gotten close to the other person one-on-one first

30. How often do you masturbate?

maybe like once a month?? but tat was when sex was readily available. id much prefer the real thing

31. What’s your favorite thing to masturbate to?

just whatever does it that time

32. What’s your favorite kind of porn?

i dont rlly watch enough to have a fave

33. What’s your favorite porn website?

dont have one

34. Who’s your favorite porn star?

same as above

35. Would you ever consider doing porn?

it really depends on specific context

36. At what age did you start masturbating?

lmao 18

37. Have you ever been caught masturbating?

nope 

38. Have you ever masturbated to a ridiculous video or story then thought “what the fuck did I just do?“

…

39. Phone sex or Camming?

never done either but im not big on taking care of myself for someone else

40. Do you believe in aphrodisiacs?

i havent read enough on them. ig if theres food that can help you be less depressed, there could be food that helps ur libido

41. What’s you biggest turn on?

biting around/on my hips/waist

42. What’s your strangest turn on?

probably the same thing, considering im not into oral and otherwise having a head down there bothers me

43. What’s your favorite sex toy?

i have none

44. Do you prefer your sexual partner to be older than you, or younger?

idc if theyre a little older/younger, as long as theyre close to my age

45. Have you ever broken up with someone because the sex was bad?

no but id totally tell an ex that to piss em off cause im a petty fuck

46. Have you ever posted nudes on tumblr?

nope. ive thought about doing the topless tuesday but ehh

47. What’s your favorite sex blog? (I’m sure it’s his-precious-kitten…but on the odd chance that it’s not…)

not really into those things

48. What’s your favorite pet name?

not necessarily a sex thing, but anything that feels strong like “darling,” “my love”

49. Do you prefer vaginal sex or anal?

never tried full-on anal but what i did try hurt too much to feel good

50. Do you prefer pussies all natural, bald, triangle, landing strip…?

whatever shes into and feels confident with mayn

51. What song would you most like to have sex to?

i like those with the feeling i get (not traditional ones) but this reminded me one time we were getting busy, youtube playlist going, next song came on and it was bring me to life and when i looked up, it wasnt like a lyric video or the official one but fucking luigi and i almost died then and there

52. Have you ever had shower sex?

yes. it was difficult  but fun

53. At what time of day are you the horniest?

i dont have a time of day but i accidentally went off my birth control for a bit and in the proceeding week i could barely function. ive been telling myself that was the reason.

54. Girls: What is your bra size?

34b, perfect hand size. sometimes they just make good rests to just hold

55. Girls: Describe your favorite pair of panties.

theyre a teal with a darker blue lace. the back kinda has a sheer part that reminds me of stain glass windows??

56. Girls: Do you ever go out not wearing panties?

nah not into that thing. you could tell me something is meant to be worn without and id be like “nah fuck that”

57. Girls: Can you get off from clit stimulation alone?

ig?? but whats the fun in that??

58. Girls: Can you get off from penetration alone?

who would do that

59. Girls: Do you use birth control or condoms?

i prefer both because i would not be able to handle nine months sober followed by hours of excruciating pain. or getting stds.

60. Girls: What’s the strangest thing that’s ever been inside your pussy?

just a marker. im not lookin to fuck myself up

but my ex is a major whovian with several sonic screwdrivers and at one point he made a joke to which i responded “if you wanted to use that on me you shouldve said something” which made everyone freak out lol

61. Girls: Do you spit or swallow?

never sucked. always had a rise of anxiety prior

62. Subs: Would you rather have a Master, a Dom, or a Daddy Dom?

idk if theres that much a difference between the first two but if i so much as hear an utterance of “daddy” i instantly become dry as the sahara

63. Littles: Describe your favorite stuffie.

n/a

64. Boys: What is your penis size?

n/a

65. Boys: Are you circumcised?

n/a

66. Boys: Do you prefer having sex without a condom?

n/a

67. Boys: Do you prefer oral or vaginal sex?

n/a

68. Doms: Do you believe in aftercare?

n/a

69. Doms: Would you rather own a slave, a sub, or a little?

n/a

lord this took forever i hope ur happy lol