#lilith.text

[shoutascoffeepot]

The Traveller

Pairing: Childhood friend! Bakugou x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 700

Note: No summary because this already short and bittersweet, no trigger warnings just a bit of angst hehe. I wrote it in inspiration of this arabic song. So feel free to listen to get the full blow. Let me know if I should write a part two for this?

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

  Cold Shivers, an ironic contrast to the warm summer sun. And you find yourself longing to the winter for the cozy memories, hoping it will thaw the shards keeping you bleeding. Japan never looked so different, how many years has it been since you left for home? But it is as if you left home here. 

  “Come on let me go, kacchan, I’m tired.” Once 13 years old you whispered, tears in your eyes as Bakugou’s hand was gripping your arm firmly. The sentence held great unspoken affection, the unspoken confession, his anger, excused. 

  “I don’t know what will come of this city one day, but I don’t want to be someplace where you’re not.” Bakugou’s first nice words, the words that gave a hint, chipped a piece of him. 

  His gaze intense, right into your dark eyes, you give him strength. Oh, what shall he do with himself now?

  “You have pretty eyes, like a doll.” He mumbled, looking down, the only compliment he used to fight himself. But now he doesn’t know when he’ll see you again, it has to be worthwhile, right?

  And though it is summer here, in Tokyo, it feels helpless. There is no way the same boy who waved you off as your parents drove the car off to the airport would wait 7 years. Not when the breeze is perfect and the streets bustling, since when did every girl get so pretty? He probably forgot, right? 

  You found your way to the old park where you used to meet and perched, humming a song that seemed to mock you.

  ‘Where are my eyes, love? They travelled, like you, love.’ 

  It grew to a ritual, whenever you could, you’d perch yourself around the old neighborhood, looking for a glimpse of a ghost, hoping he’s still here, somewhere. Though it hurt! It hurts so fucking bad to see the children playing the same swings he used to push you, it hurts knowing time flies so fast, and nostalgia burns holes in your soul.

  One day, you were getting sick,  you were supposed to go out but passed out from fatigue on the couch with your makeup on, only to wake at the dead of night, realizing you needed medicine. Naturally, you ran down the apartment building to the convenience store, blinking as you tried to read the labels, you forgot your glasses, typical.

  “Excuse me.” Said a gruff, raspy voice as you were blocking the aisle.

“Sorry.” You moved closer to the shelf and out of instinct glanced from the corner of your eyes. 

  Ash blond, fluffy hair, tall,  masculine back, wearing some sort of hero costume.  could it be? 

  Lab-dub. 

  It can’t.

  Lab-dub.

  You blink a few times and realize you’re staring at this man's backside while he was looking for pain relief ointment. You stare at the box of medicine in your hand, and he steps closer to your side, just normally scanning at the shelves. 

  Lab-dub

  Taking your tissue and acting like you’re wiping your nose you steal another glance. 

  Crimson eyes, like fire. 

  Lab-dub. 

  You couldn’t look away quick enough, he caught you, raising a brow and then almost immediately realized. His sharp gaze softened and widening. 

  “You…” His arm that rested on the shelf dropped. 

  Lab-dub. 

  “I thought you were never coming back.” He whispered, brows knitted, eyes like glass. 

  “Kacchan.” You choked out, not believing he’s right in front of you. Tears flew freely for you, unrestricted. 

  He stepped closer and his hands held your face, thumb pads rubbing the tears away as his own trickle down his cheeks. 

  “Same face, same crybaby.” He bittersweetly chuckled. 

  “I’m sorry I left– I had no choice, I wanted to stay– I thought you forgot about me– it was a long shot–” You blurted and he shushed every thought that popped out your mouth.

 “Shhh, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter.” He mumbled, looking at you intensely.

  “It does–” 

  “You know what?” 

  “What?” 

  “You still have the most beautiful eyes ever, like a doll’s. I missed you.” 

  With that, he pressed his lips between your eyebrows, and as you closed your eyes, his kiss felt like a balm soothing your burning heart. And the world was finally at peace with itself, and everything was okay.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

[shoutascoffeepot]

Know that I always love you in every second, so much so it hurts me, so much so just writing the first sentence brought me to tears and I never cry anymore. Because I know deep inside you wouldn't let anything i go through happen, you wouldn't let me hurt. you wouldn't let me sleep in a puddle of my tears, a puddle of helplessness.

I want to make you happy, I want to make you proud, I want to hold you close but we are too far away. My pillar, my home, my deep sea. When will you come back to me?

Happy Birthday, my man

@aizawaxshouta

[shoutascoffeepot]

btw guys shouta was supposed to be married to me (we are married) and have at least three kids but horikoshi forgot to add that bin the timeskip

[shoutascoffeepot]

why did i JUST find out you can use lads as a period tracker??????? and pomodoro timer????

imagine someone asking you what period app youre using and then you’re like uhhh, welll.. its a game…

[shoutascoffeepot]

happy valentines day kitten, i am glad that you’re with me for another year. i love you enormously. until the day i die, i have planned a dinner date with you, and i want you to wear the dress currently sitting at the edge of our mattress and just focus on getting dolled up.

yours always,

zoz

😶‍🌫️

but you never asked me to be your valentine 😒

[shoutascoffeepot]

fuck finals

[shoutascoffeepot]

here comes jobless ena again, who do you ship me in bnha with? apart from hawks obviously??

for me i’d ship you with hmm… 🤔 no one in particular apart from your top two. i think dabi?? could be one?? he’s deranged you love your men deranged i hate dabi we are enemies u better not let me catch ur man and not let him catch deez hands

you love blondes, so, obviously, i’d bless you with your male blond counterpart: bakugou katsuki.

you two are so toxic but in like weirdly a good way? like it either makes your friends look away when you two fight and then shortly get fascinated and mildly turned on when you make out aggressively.

it could be literally anywhere. and you sort of brat just to text how far he’d go. it would be in the female locker room when everyone left as you had night training.

the little hallway between the two buildings of dorms of guys vs girls in ua, which conveniently doesnt have a camera.

he’s perfect for you, really, he knows every little detail from your favorite flower to your concealer shade.

katsuki would understand you deeply as he has anger issues too, so most of the “fights” is you two yelling at hieachbother he’s yelling at you how much he loves u, u crazy woman, i quote him.

“WHAT YOU DONT FUCKING UNDERSTAND IS THAT YOURE BOT GOING ANYWHERE.”

“WHY? FUCK YOu—“

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU, crazy girl! ”

so yes. he does make you frustrated in all the best ways, and he releases that frustration for you later on ;)

[shoutascoffeepot]

The force inflicted onto the little wooden match.

Be it too little, the fire won’t come. Be it too large, the stick would break.

The friction between two surfaces.

Caused by said force, kinetic energy, turned to frictional, then thermal.

The first spark.

Be it too small, too weak to properly light up. Be it too large, it cannot.

The match might burn purely on chance, on oxygen.

Be it oxygen is not enough, the light will be put out, no more warmth, no more burning, fire ceases.

Be it fed enough, the match burns down, perhaps not all the way, perhaps it burns down and bites your fingers, leaving a mark.

The little stick made of wood burns down to ash, carbon, essentially.

With no way of being able to restore it. Back to what it was, what it represented. It now had new character, new properties, little prosperity.

To the naked eye at least. As ash may seem useless. Carbon still is and remains —factually— the element of life, the center of all organic compounds. Center of life.

Use the fire from the stick —hurry— light a candle, vanilla bean. A scent so simple, yet so comforting, perhaps as warm as the fire itself.

It burns slower, these wicks, the soft wax dispensing the aroma to the room as it evaporates.

Don’t try to suffocate the candle, I beg of you, and careful to not place it anywhere hazardous. Do not forget about it, it will burn you down.

Do enjoy it, savor its delicacy, savor the quietness, the nothingness. The joy of being nothing and no one.

Scientists may argue: Matter and energy cannot be created from nothing and cannot be destroyed.

I beg to differ, for when you sacrifice enough sleep for one’s own solidarity, when you are alone, you may close your eyes and also cease for a moment.

Not to escape to a fantastic new world, oh no, this time, it’s different, it’s… To act, pretend, that you were not there, or anywhere, for that matter.

No one to care for, no one cares for you. No one to tend, no one needs tending. No energy consumed, no energy to get rid of. No one to love, no one that loves you.

A true taste of eternal peace, a taste of eternal rest.

The only thing that would anchor you to still existing, would be the warmth of fire, and the scent of vanilla bean.