Howdy Pardner

I had a dream that someone started a meme at the bottom of their tumblr posts that was just a banner of harry styles giving a thumbs up with the text "This post is Ravioli Approved." It got really popular, and eventually Harry got wind of it and went on James Corden and said "this meme is Ravioli Approved." Everyone loved it and it was really funny, and Harry Styles played along. Until one day he tweeted "Donald Trump is not Ravioli Approved." And the next day Trump fucking died.

suddenly everyone was DMing Harry Styles like "am I ravioli approved???" And he mostly said yes, but the ones he said no to died. And the next day it would come out that they had been murderers or just terrible people.

They gave Harry Styles his own government Bureau of Ravioli Approval (BORA) and every baby born got an approval/disapproval rating with their social security number. Infant mortality dropped because every baby except the Disapproved ones lived.

Eventually he did like a 12-hour live special of him reading the death records of the last 20 years and approving/disapproving of their deaths. There wasn't any earthly repercussions to that but im pretty sure it meant he was sending them to heaven or hell?

The dream ended with a looney tunes ending card, except instead of porky pig it was harry in the middle with the message "This Dream Is Ravioli Approved." And i woke up.

Hanging out with Idia, something you do often.

But this time is different. While gaming he looks over to you and is hit with a sudden realization.

There's a cutie lying on his bed, reading his manga, wearing his stolen hoodie.

It's not the first time you've done this but he's wondering how the heck this even happened, what led to it, and why it's suddenly hitting him now.

...the urge to brag and rub it into his online friends' faces is very strong.

An icon? An Icon.

softest birthday baby

📸 sierradeaton on insta

Disney Fathers

A father loves you

He teaches you about the world

He loves spending time with you

He loves to make you smile and laugh

And being your father makes him smile

He watches over you

He is always ready to protect you

And he will fight to keep you safe

He gives you advice when you need it

And is there for you when you’re sad

He helps you find out who you are

And he learns from you as well

He supports you and your dreams

Even when no one else does

He wants you to achieve your goals and fly

And he is proud when you succeed 

No matter how far you go, he’ll be there when you return

No matter how long you were gone

He will always miss you

He prepares you for the world as best he can

And lets you go explore it

No matter what, he will always love you

The one that raised you might not have been a true father

But somewhere in the world you will find a father

Your father might be a brother

Or a teacher

Or a stepdad

Or a friend

But they will be there for you

And they will love you

And support you

And you will find them 

Because everyone has a father somewhere

ashengrotto

People message me your phone number iM bOrEd

BAY CITY ROMANCE 𖥻 003 𖥻 4REAL!

bcr masterlist ; prev ; next

synopsis. who knew an impromptu trip to familymart could be this cold?

warnings. CHUUYA AND RANPO RFIGHTING, gojo mention, horrible description of surroundings (nothing serious!)

notes. uhhh hehe hey...... heyyyy i know ppl wana throw tomatoes and stones but I'm back (I'm a senior now) LASO have u seen my bbgirls (choso mf kamo) debut in the shibuya arc trailerrrrr HEHEHEHE I LVOE CHOSOS SO MUCHH (follow me on twt! nikozaii if u want to hearmy insane shti) also i came back home from japan so uhhh hiiii the family,art here is loosely based on that one branch in tokyo near the hotel i stayed in

You set down your phone as your eyes flickered to the group. Ranpo, in particular, was staring out to Fyodor and Sigma, conversing about their rankings as you breathed out. You felt a gust of wind brush across your face, leaving a smile etched across your lips in tranquility. You looked towards Ranpo, that tranquility seeping into his veins as he met your gaze, making him open his eyes, letting his muscles rest as he blinked at you in recognition. “Hi,” You said, allowing Ranpo to revert to his usual expression. Crescent-shaped eyes paired with his signature mischievous smile, he adjusted his body towards you, sitting down on the soft grass as he pats the vacant space beside him. Of course, you took a step forward, the grass responding to your touch as you sat down. Grass tickled your back as you laid your palms on the soft floor. “What are we waiting for?” Ranpo mused, wrapping his arms around his knees, pulling them to his chest as he observed the duo before him. “For them to stop, I guess.” You shrugged, and Ranpo raised his hand. “Hey, guys! You both done talking?” He queried, extending the vowels of his last sentence to gain their attention, and, to his pleasure, two heads turned to the source as their conversations halted, and it was Sigma who spoke up. “Sorry! We were talking about earlier. It was such a hassle to get around the students.” He clasped his hands together, sending an awkward smile to the two of you.

“That’s okay, we were just about to ask you if you two were ready to go.” You reassured, Sigma sighing in relief at your words. Fyodor gazed at Sigma’s fidgeting hands, setting his hand on his shoulder, and observing the tiny squeak that left his mouth. “We can go now,” Fyodor said calmly, rubbing circles on Sigma’s shoulder as the latter nodded in agreement. Fyodor had a habit of tracing circles when he made contact with skin, an action of attempted comfort and for his entertainment. He knows that you don’t mind it, that you and the group were used to his peculiar habits. He huffed at this, returning his hand to its original position. Fyodor knew his habits were unusual actions that would be deemed atypical to other university students. Surely, he was a man of ambiguity shrouded in philosophies that you could never uncover, but with this enigmatic man came a plethora of tendencies that even he could not control.

The FamilyMart Fyodor talked about flickered with its signature white, green, and blue lights, highlighting the presence of the establishment, accompanied by banners outside the entrance, incorporating some of your favorite animes collaborating with the convenience store. To its right were a few potted plants, and a fluorescent street lamp illuminating the side of the road. To your left, you could spot the school’s covered court, blocked by cement walls that extend to the end of the street. The road was fairly empty, bikes only occasionally driving past the four of you as your group stared at the store. Waiting for Chuuya and Yosano left you bored, shoving your hands in your pockets, walking towards the establishment as the automatic doors slid open, making the bell ring as you were greeted by the cashier. You noticed Fyodor following suit, leaving Ranpo and Sigma outside to wait for the remaining two. As you turned back, you noticed Sigma examining the sunset, as Ranpo had his hands tucked completely in his jacket pockets, seemingly looking for his phone. Fyodor moved beside you, and your attention shifted towards him. “You looking for anything?” You asked, making Fyodor’s sharp eyes lock with yours then back to the food he was eyeing. “I wanted to try Onigiri,” He sighed, “been wanting to try it ever since I came here.”

You recalled the time Fyodor was introduced to Yokohama University. Assumptions of the new student quickly spread throughout the university, whispers and mutters about a foreign presence residing in the University you grew to find home. Of course, you weren’t an exception to the waves of utterances about the new student, who shares one class with you, and naturally, you felt drawn to listen to them. It was hard not to, as two particular friends of yours have brought you to hear their musings about the upcoming student. He carried himself with pride, his walk exuding confidence as his footsteps resounded around the hall. You remember meeting Fyodor once he stepped into the classroom as you stared at the door upon hearing its creak, followed by an apology from a foreign voice, making you perk up from your laptop. This action led you to meet the man who caught your eye, a wordless greeting formed by the color of your irises boring into his.

You never told him outright, but at that moment, it seemed a flurry of memories allowed itself to flood your mind, an endless stream of what ifs and countless possibilities presented itself to you, as if a layer of your consciousness knew he would remain with you.

That innate feeling you possessed suffocated you, that stem of anticipation twisting in your throat, a bud forming at every edge of your lungs, and at that moment, as two eyes locked, there, a blossoming flower could be found in your heart.

“[Name], look, I found Gojo’s donut,” He walked up to you, deciding to look around for a bit as you stood motionless. There were many more deserts to try, but it was the donut that really caught his eye. You snapped out of your reverie, which was, ironically, about him, only to be faced with Gojo’s smile plastered on the packet of the product he was holding. “That looks funny, is it supposed to be infinity-shaped?” You questioned, grabbing it from his hand, checking the back of it as you felt it around in your hand. “It’s cute, Fyo,” You hold it up to him, “You want it?” He nodded at your question as he took the donut back, and placed it in his basket (You wonder where he got it, but you suspected he quickly snagged one as you were reminiscing). You noticed Sigma and Ranpo from outside, conversing with each other as Sigma found himself to be the victim of Ranpo’s childish antics. “[Name], I got an iced coffee too. Do Sigma and Ranpo want anything?” Fyodor stepped out from the aisle, holding a carton of iced latte in his hand. You sighed, “Ranpo wants anything sweet. Maybe Dango would do, perhaps.” You weighed your options, while Fyodor grabbed shortbread cookies for Sigma to eat. He figured you didn’t want to walk outside as it would be a hassle, truth be told, he shared the same vision, so he opted to pick food for Sigma instead. Sigma made it clear that he was fond of cookies, the pastry always lingering in his mind whenever he was with the group. From cafes to grocery shopping, a pack of cookies always seemed to land itself in the cart, and you all knew that it was Sigma behind the action.

Your train of thought abruptly halted as the bell rang, signaling the entrance of another person. You had an inkling of who it may be, considering the road was void of any people as you entered. “Fyodor, [Name]!” The voice-- that awfully familiar voice, made your head perk up towards the door, seeing that familiar wave of black hair walk towards you. “[Name]!” She slung an arm over your shoulder, “Have you seen Fyodor? Chuuya wants a rice bowl-- you know, those prepared meals.” She lets go of you, nudging you in the process. “We all want those Blue Lock wafers, by the way.” She reminded you, as you rolled your eyes at her statement. “Mhm, yeah, right.” She laughs as she walks towards Fyodor, after grabbing a snack of her own. You picked an Onigiri out for you to eat, as well as one more for Fyodor. Juice… juice… You thought, skimming the rows of drinks, and picking one that caught your eye. You figured to get coffee for Yosano, if she hadn’t already, and one more for Chuuya, just in case.

Minutes pass as the group awaits your exit from the entrance. The moon decided to make itself known, accompanied by cold gusts of wind to all citizens of Japan. The wind was particularly comfortable, basking in the presence of passersby who felt its touch on their skin. You and your group were no exception to that. Sigma exhaled, crossing his arms, which helped alleviate the cold atmosphere surrounding him, even by just a little. They focus their eyes on the group paying for the group’s meal on the counter, then to the bickering duo to her right. “How does it feel being top 2, huh?” Ranpo provoked Chuuya, who was wearing a strained smile. “How does it feel being the next victim of my fist, huh?” He responded, gritting his teeth in an attempt to hold himself back from hitting the prodigious student. “Try it!” Ranpo giggled, running away comically as Chuuya spewed out curses towards him. Yosano sighed in faux annoyance, “These guys don’t know when to calm down, no?” She turned to Sigma, who chuckled under his breath. “Sometimes I wonder if they’ll ever stop.” He said.

“What are these two idiots doing?” You stepped out of the store with 2 plastic bags in your hand, clicking your tongue as you stared at Chuuya and Ranpo. The latter, as usual, purposefully spurs Chuuya on as he shouts at him, “You were the one who ate the last piece of my fucking milk bread?!” He looks over to you, “[Name]! Kill this idiot!” He points at you, grabbing the collar of Ranpo as he raises his hands up in surrender. “I said I was sorry!” He repeats, making Chuuya let go of him with a sigh. Ranpo brushed his sweater, sighing in relief, earning a glare from the hot-headed man. Chuuya walks up to you, shoving his hands in his pockets to warm his hands, “You got my food, [Name]?” He questioned, with a voice uncharacteristically soft compared to the tone he used on Ranpo. “Yeah, yours and Yosano’s are in this one over here.” You handed him a bag, which he took while muttering a ‘thank you’. “I’m getting tired, [Name], Fyodor.” Yosano quipped, “Sigma here is also a bit tired. We might go for the night.” She informed you, and you nodded in return.

The group decided to split ways, waving goodbye to each other, as well as throwing in heaps of congratulatory statements for everyone present. The atmosphere was chilly walking back, the flickering of the lights, with the melody of your footsteps, were the only sounds accompanying you back to your own dorm. It felt oddly calm, the noir of the night engulfing your shadow as the light of each lamp danced in your eyes, your footsteps blending in with the symphony of the dark, performing an orchestra of elements that welcomed itself in you. What you didn’t know, is that amidst the melody of nature and the song of the city that you were so used to, comes a whole different, unfamiliar tune that you were yet to experience.

trivia:

fyodor really wants his blue lock wafers

yosano's favorite character is chigiri who else cheered

fyodor likes yukimiya LOL reo is a close second

ranpo LOVESSSS BACHIRA (hes js like me… bachira 4life)

chuuya likes chigiri too… chigiri and kaiser he thinks his tattoo is cool

ranpo found a nearby gashapon and spent 1000 yen on it (he got what he wanted on his last try)

you found a stray cat meowing as you arrived at your dorm. he was a greyish-white cat, with a streak of green. an unusual color for a cat, but he was cute nonetheless.

ranpo followed yosano and chuuya home, wanting to spend the night with them

your roommate was nowhere to be seen when you arrived, but they bought a tub of ice cream for you as an apology. you texted them with the note and ice cream they left you and they laughed at it, responding with a quick no worries, and an apology for their absence.

chuuya actually wanted a carton of sake, but he refused at the last second.

tg: @iruc @celestair

2023 © kachuuyaa. do not steal or claim my work as your own.

easter lillies

word count: 2.6k

summary: you thought he wasn't too big on the soulmate thing.

"OW," You hiss as you jolt awake, a sting in your ribs. A flurry of flowers blooms where your soulmate's wound was, making you grimace as you look in your mirror. It's the fifth bruise this week. It really makes you wonder what kind of nonsense your soulmate was up to. It was almost as if they were one of those vigilantes your friends were screaming over. To be fair, you like them too, and he was technically one before.

You like them a normal amount... whatever the hell that means.

You pop a painkiller as you go back to sleep, the rest of your night going undisturbed.

You wake up with seven more flowers sewn across your upper back. But you've grown used to it,  the flowers all treated as some tattoo on your skin, your skin showing where it needs to be, hidden where you don't want it shown. You would prefer that your soulmate didn't have bruises all over his skin, but it made him easier to identify. Well, it made you easier to identify. The flowers all over your skin are more eye-catching than any clothes you wear.

The flowers have been a part of you for as long as you can remember.

At seven, you shrieked when you woke up with flowers all over your legs and skin, sobbing as your parents tried explaining that it was just marks from your soulmate's skin and not some magical demon who had tattooed flowers all over your body.

Somewhere on your soulmate, they have a red flower on their ring finger, a mole you grew up with.

"Iced latte with oat milk!" 

You reach for the cup, pressing the cup to your lips as you head off.

You hiss as a flower blooms on your finger. Seriously? A papercut?

You grimace, exhaling slowly as you press the coffee back to your lips, agitated.

Truth was, you knew who your soulmate was. He was a dead man. Your mother brought home a photo of a young boy around your age, Bruce Wayne's second son, an autopsy done on his body, scars matching your flowers, and you begged her to see him. His funeral wasn't open to the public, but you had shown them the flowers all over your body and how you heard his body was wounded beyond repair, and then finally the autopsy scar you had on your own body, and they let you in. You didn't feel sad that he died. You didn't know him.

but you mourned over what the two of you could have been.

just.

a little.

You didn't ask for anything from Bruce, just a couple of moments to stare at him through the open coffin, checking his ring finger for your red flower, expression falling when you remembered how many flowers were scattered across your body. His name was Jason— Bruce told you. He liked reading books and talking to his teachers, he liked tinkering with cars and his older brother. You were told everything about the boy, his diary given to you as a memorial. 

"Jason would have wanted you to have this." Bruce had said.

You doubt Bruce would have given it to you had he known Jason was documenting all of his adventures as Robin in it. You didn't tell Bruce, you didn't tell your parents, you didn't tell anyone. The boy was dead and you knew it.

At seventeen on a random morning, a new flower bloomed around your ankle. A green one on your heart, and a blue one on your ankle.

You would have passed it off as an error in the universe had you not been screaming in pain when the green one bloomed. You were rushed to the hospital and sedated in tears, the burn too much for you. When you woke up, a blue one on your ankle had formed too, and you were told that your soulmate must be alive. Whether it be from this universe or another, your soulmate was back.

It made you sick to no end. 

That meant that Jason, that poor boy, was resurrected like some science experiment.

Nowadays, you spend your time sorting through papers in Bruce's company, drinking expensive coffee, working a job that you got through connections. Bruce had given it to you without second thought. No one likes sorting through legal documents and risking getting fired because of a single mistake without some sort of insurance. You just wanted a house to live in. You get bored these days. Sometimes when you see a worker's soulmate visit them, you wonder what it would be like if Jason were still alive.

Well, alive legally.

It's kind of hard to find a man that's legally dead but technically alive.

Bruce hasn't told you shit either, and according to Jason's diary... he probably wouldn't tell you anything unless you dragged yourself down to the Batcave yourself. 

and that? you don't plan on.

You settle with working on papers until it's 5, pausing when you notice something that definitely did not belong with the rest of the pile. You don't want to know what the paper was doing in a pile of business documents, but it's not your problem. You should probably get them to Bruce.

You find the rest of the document in the pile and mumble to yourself, dialing the home phone.

"Hello?"

"Alfred." You exhale in relief. "Bruce left um... papers in the office that don't belong here and I don't think they can be shredded... could I send it to the mansion right now?"

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Oh, no. I'll head home after, but I appreciate the thought." You smile. "I'll head over right now."

"I shall bring you some cookies, then."

"Oh... I won't say no to that." You laugh. "See you in twenty."

In retrospect, showing up to Wayne Manor right before sunset was probably not the smartest thing you've ever done, but it isn't exactly the worst thing you've done either. You ring the doorbell and blink in surprise at the sight of... who is this?

"You are?"

"I'm here to hand Alfred some personal files that Bruce got mixed up into the business ones." You tilt your head. "You are?"

"Just call me Jay." He nods. "Alfred's in the kitchen. Should I take you there?"

"Please do." You nod. 

"So who are you?"

"Um, I sort through files in the office. Are you one of Bruce's kids?"

"You're really close with the old man, huh?"

"Not really." You mumble. "You use the connections you have in life when you get lazy."

"Why not just have him fund you?"

"I'm not holding his dead son over his head for something like that." You grumble. "How are you related to him?"

The man's lip quirks up in amusement. "I'm one of his dead sons."

"One? He has more than one dead son?"

He shrugs. "Alfred. The little aide is here."

"My apologies for not greeting you at the door. I shall take the papers from you." He nods. "Here are your cookies."

"Thank you, Alfred." You smile. 

"Master Jason, could you take them back?"

You freeze, staring up at him. "You're Jason?"

"In the flesh." He smiles. "Nice meeting you, soulmate."

You blink at him slowly. "Wow, for a zombie, you look real good."

"Thank you."

"If someone sleeps with you, does that make it necrophilia?"

"I wouldn't go that far, doll." Jason raises a brow at you.

You shrug. "Thank you, Alfred. I'll get going now."

"Will we see you around?"

"Not unless Bruce gets his papers messed up again."

Jason sends you out, but neither of you really talk to each other. He doesn't ask, so you don't give. Besides, it's not as if you could date someone... dead, or something. You're not quite sure what to make of Jason. Well, not like you had to live with him. If your soulmate died once, you're sure you can live another day without seeing him.

Except he can't.

You wake up at 2 with a giant flower in your stomach area, and you shove a painkiller down your throat, heaving as you down as much water as possible to try and speed up the pill's effect, your head spinning. Jason probably got stabbed or something. You don't want to know, but you find that you don't have much of a choice when Dick shows up at your door with Jason in his arms, and you grimace. 

"Sorry for abusing your care, but—"

"If I had a dime for each time I've had to wrap up a bleeding man, I'd be as rich as B." You grumble. "What is it this time? Does he need stitches? Is the mansion too far?"

"Too far."

"I'm fine." Jason coughs. "I can make it back."

"Yeah, with a wound like that? I think the fuck not." You wince as you peel his jacket off, revealing a large gash. "I thought you wore armor?"

"Stabbed through. Human inventions do nothing against foreign forces." Dick mumbles, finding your kit.

You catch as Dick tosses you the first aid kit. "You're paying rent for me this month." You deadpan, resting Jason on your knees as you sterilize a needle. "Any pieces inside the wound?"

"Nothing."

"Scream if you need to." You start on the wound, making haste as Jason throws his head back, gasping as you pierce through his skin to sew it back together. The feeling has long been normalized in your skin as you finish and tie the thread. You wrap the wound, helping Jason sit up when you're done. You look up at Dick, and he sighs.

"We'll cover costs for this month."

"Thank you." You get up. "Anything else?"

"B said you can skip work for the rest of the week." He pauses. 

Right. It's not like B would tell it to your face, but his kids were not slick when it came to crashing your place to get wounds fixed up. You don't know how the word got to them that you had taken a mock-surgery class in high school, but they did not spare you when it came to wound dressing. You don't even know how Robin had managed to find your address when you moved out. Sure, Dick was older than Jason and probably found out somehow, but Robin? Seriously?

"Alright. Now get out."

"What would your coworkers think if they saw you like this?"

"Um... I don't care." You smile. "out."

"Jaybird, aren't you glad your soulmate knows how to close wounds?" Dick sighs. "We're crashing the couch."

"Then don't be loud." You give him a thumbs up. "I'm sleeping. The wound hurts."

"Will do." He nods.

You lock your door as you go back to bed, turning off your alarms as your back hits the mattress, knocking out. 

The sun hits your eyes in the morning when you wake, and the smell of butter flutters through the room as you sit up, slightly confused before remembering Dick brought Jason to your apartment last night. You appreciate that they at least get rid of the suits before knocking on your door. Besides, you think Dick only brought Jason to you and not a safehouse was because you're his soulmate. Soulmates be dammed, you want at least one week where you aren't patching up someone from the Waynes unmasked.

"Good morning." You mumble.

"Morning." Jason nods. "I made breakfast as a thank you."

"Thank you." You mumble. "You'll need a couple of days with a wound like that."

"Did it hurt?"

You raise a brow at him, pressing your mug to your lips.

"What?"

"The wound."

"No. It didn't." You deadpan. "No shit, of course it did."

"I saw... painkillers scattered across the apartment."

"Yeah." You answer him as if it's the most normal thing in the world. It isn't. It's not supposed to be. Jason knows that much. It's not. You know it too. No average person has painkillers scattered across the apartment like decoration. "Why?"

"Is it because I get injured so much?"

You snort.

"No. It's obviously because I got beat to death by a crowbar and had to get sent to the hospital because I didn't die from it, I only felt every single wound inflicted on my body and had to live with it since I'm immortal and all." You roll your eyes. "Oh, not to mention that I frequent the hospital so much that the workers there all know me by name. Oh, don't even get me started on how the pharmacists don't even need me to hand them a prescription anymore. And!!! I'm not even going to think about the fact that almost every inch of my body has been covered in flowers at some point. Though, the autopsy pattern is a great conversation starter at raves." You trail off.

Jason's eyes trail down to your stomach peeking through your shirt.

The guilt. The guilt eats him alive.

"Can we start over?" He blinks slowly. "I... I'm sorry."

"If you're really sorry, you can pull out of the vigilante business." You shrug. "I don't want a sorry. I want less tattoos and less painkillers consumed."

"You seem used to this."

"I woke up with twelve flowers across my back when I turned seven." You pause. "since then, it's been normal to wake up with a couple of new ones... save for the years you were dead."

"Ah." Jason blinks slowly. "I'm sorry. I can't stop."

"I know." You mumble. "Just... stay safe."

"I'll keep that in mind."

But it bites you in the ass as more flowers bloom across your skin, even if they're no longer painful. Small bruises, doses of pain that you've grown used to, doses of pain that no longer affect how your day goes, doses of pain that no longer matter to you. You appreciate that he isn't breaking bones anymore. You sleep through the night much more these days. 

But you don't see Jason.

You wonder...

nope. not possible.

WRONG!

You tilt your head as Dick smiles sheepishly at your door again. This time, he's the one bleeding.

"Sorry, too far away from the mansion, and Dickhead insisted on visiting." Jason explains. "He's not dying. He just needs some ice."

"You'd think he's impossible to be harmed, huh?" You let the two in. "So? Are you leaving by car?"

"We'll figure it out." 

You lay Dick on the couch as you wince at the bruises on his body. "You must really hate your soulmate."

"She hates me too. We're even." Dick smiles.

"I don't doubt that." You mumble. "Seriously." You dress his wound, sighing. 

There's an elephant in the room. Now you forgot whether or not Dick knows you know he's Nightwing.

Maybe he does..? You don't remember, and you're too tired to ask.

"I'm kicking you out after this."

"You let us stay when Jaybird was hurt but not when I am?" Dick gasps in faux offense.

"You're not my soulmate. Shoo."

Dick sighs dramatically as Jason takes him out, and you toss Jason your car keys.

"Drive him back."

"Will do. I'll get it back to you tomorrow."

"Take your time. I don't need to get anywhere anyway."

Jason is... strange. You're not used to his presence around you. 

He drops by your place with every single excuse in the book— he's got a bruise, he's out of eggs, he's hungry, he got a free drink from the store and thought of you. You don't know. Quite frankly, the fact that Jason dropped by so often was concerning. What the hell was he even doing? You thought he didn't like soulmates.

"I brought—"

"I set the table already." You sigh, letting him in. "I thought you didn't like soulmates?"

"It may have..." Jason goes quiet, last word coming out as incoherent mumble.

"Hm?"

"May have grown on me." He whispers. 

You blink at him slowly, eyes wide as you stop to stare at him.

"What."

"The whole... soulmates thing." He swallows, suddenly feeling shy. "Grew on me."

Your cheeks grow warm as you stare at him with wide eyes, heart racing in your chest. "It grew on you?"

"It grew on me."

"Yeah?"

Jason smiles. "So I'd like to..."

"Better be worth it, corpse boy."

"I promise." Jason whispers. "I promise."

Tobikichi Usahara ✭ Lost Time

Cat’s Note: Why are all of the men in this show so 🦆ing attractive? Uramichi and Kumatani coming soon 🤭

Summary: You broke up with him 4 years ago. Surely, he’s moved on by now, even if you haven’t. But what if he’s still stuck on you just as much as you are on him?

WC: 4.6k

Genre: exes to lovers, fluff

warnings: n/a, barely proofread, random OC

"Oh, Y/n! The girls and I are going bar hopping tomorrow, you should totally go with us!" Your friend Yumi says, lifting a stack of glass plates from a box and placing them on the kitchen counter.

You've just graduated from college, finally returning to Tokyo after 4 long years. Most people would have returned home during breaks, but you, however, had decided to remain in Sendai to work in between semesters. Most people also would have gone to college at 18. But you didn't go until you were 22, having been inspired by your ex-boyfriend's job as an actor to start pursuing videography.

So now here you are, freshly graduated, moving into a new apartment, and very happy to be home. You look over at Yumi as you carry another box into the kitchen, grunting harshly as you hoist it onto the table.

"Bar hopping?" You repeat. You reach for one of the many knives laying around and tear it through the tape on the box, carefully pulling out the pots and pans laying inside. "It may be 4 years since we've been together, but I'm sure you remember I'm not a big fan of bar hopping," you laugh lightly.

"Ahh, yeah, I do remember," Yumi giggles in return, moving the stack of plates into their designated cabinet. "But I do think it would be fun! You said you didn't have much time to go out when you were at school, well, now you have plenty of time!" She turns back to you with a bright smile. "And you never know, maybe you'll meet a cute guy while we're out," she smirks. You roll your eyes at this.

Ever since you broke things off with your ex 4 years ago, Yumi has asked relentlessly about your love life. And while there was never really anything to report, she always seemed happy to hear that you were still single.

"Please, I don't think I'll ever find love again," you sigh overdramatically, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead to nail your performance. As soon as the words leave your mouth, you pause, closing your eyes and bracing yourself for the next words to come from Yumi.

"...you're still not really over Usahara, are you?" Aaand there it is, question number 2 on the FAQ list. Yumi doesn't ask it nearly as much as the first, but she still asks often enough that you can basically tell when it's coming. And you're also tired of hearing it. Not because she keeps asking, you know she just wants to check in on you, see how you're feeling. But because your answer is always the same. 4 years of no contact, and your ex is still on your mind almost constantly.

You can only blame yourself really. You're the one who broke up with him when everything was perfect, when he wanted to stay together, when he was confident that your relationship could survive the distance once you left for school. But you weren't. You knew long distance would strain your relationship too much. It was inevitable. You were just saving yourselves the extra pain. At least, that's what you thought.

4 years and you've only had one boyfriend, and he only lasted for about 3 months. The time in between was full of failed first dates, ghostings, and creeps who were just looking to get laid. Not once did you meet someone who made your heart stop and your stomach flutter the way Usahara did. And you're beginning to wonder if you'll ever experience that feeling again. You groan and go back to unpacking your kitchen supplies.

"I think you know the answer to that, and I would rather not talk about it," you mutter. You turn to put the pots in a cabinet, missing the all-knowing smirk on your friend's face.

"Okay, we can drop the subject. But still, you should come with us! Besides, I want to buy you your first drink back in Tokyo!"

Well, can't argue with that, can you? You stop to think for a moment. Sure, you hate bar hopping, but it would probably do you some good to get out and socialize. And Yumi's right, you never know who you might meet. Maybe Tokyo guys are better than Sendai guys. Won't know unless you try, right?

"Haha. Okay, Yumi, I'll go," you say, reflecting your friend's happy grin.

"Yes!" Yumi exclaims, swaying her hips in a little happy dance.

"BUT!" You interject, cutting Yumi's celebration short. "We're not going out super late."

"No problem!"

"And when I'm exhausted and ready to go, we go?"

"Absolutely!" You would think you'd just told her that you won a million dollars and are giving her half based on the blinding smile on her face. Why is she so excited to go drinking? Should you be worried? You brush it off, chalking it up to your high school bestie just being happy to spend time with you after being apart for so long. You just hope you have enough energy tomorrow to be "Fun Y/n" and not "Tired and Cranky Y/n".

"Alright! Let's at least get your kitchen finished before we call it a night!" Yumi says, moving on to another box. You hum in agreement and follow suit.

"Ready to go?" Yumi calls. You walk into the bathroom to see her putting on her earrings, the finishing touch to her evening outfit.

"Whenever you are," you chirp. You tug lightly at the hem of the little black dress you're wearing. "Is it really okay that I wear this?" Yumi turns away from the mirror to look at you, her jaw dropping.

"Y/n you look gorgeous! That dress fits you a lot better than it does me. Any man should feel lucky to have you even spare them a glance!"

"Is your plan for us to hang out or to find me a boyfriend?" You laugh

"Why not both?" Yumi jokes back. "Seriously though, you should keep that dress. I never wear it anyway." You look at yourself in the mirror and damn, this dress does look nice on you. You mentally agree with Yumi's statement, any man should feel lucky. "The others said they would meet us at the bar, so we can head on over!"

With a new sense of self-confidence, you and Yumi leave your apartment to head to the first bar just a short walk away.

You get there and say hello to the group of girls, some of which you haven't seen since high school. The girls all order a shot or two, trying to get a little buzzed while you're at the cheapest place on the route. You order a drink that's a little lighter on the alcohol, not wanting to risk getting too drunk this early on. Once you're done there, it's on to the next place, and so on.

By the time your little group starts to leave the third bar, some of the girls are already starting to feel the effects of the shots they've taken. Yumi glances at the time on her phone and raises her voice to get everyone's attention.

"Hey, we should go to that little lounge on the next street over!" She suggests excitedly. Before you can agree, some of the other girls speak up.

"The lounge? I thought you didn't like that place?"

"Yeah, you always say it's kinda sketchy."

You turn to Yumi to see how she explains her sudden change of heart, only to see her fiddling with her fingers, something she does nervous. Or when she's planning something.

"Ahh, yeah I know but... but they have a really good happy hour deal at this time!" The girls tilt their heads in question but agree to go nonetheless. You make your way to the next street and see your destination ahead of you and, yeah, it does look a bit sketchy. But, no one says anything as you enter the little hangout.

"Let's sit over here!" Yumi says, darting ahead toward the end of the bar table. You all look at each other, mutually confused by Yumi's sudden enthusiasm and determination to, not only visit this specific bar, but also sit in a specific spot. But you swallow your questions and follow. The first thing you notice is how dark it is, and you don't believe it's purposeful mood lighting either. The second thing is the lack of people. Granted, it's a small bar, but even so, the seating isn't half full. Why are you here again?

You sit beside Yumi who has an unusually bright smile, even for her. You all order your drinks and take your time with them, catching up with each other in quiet chit-chat. You're there for a short time before a couple of guys enter the lounge, walking past the bar to sit at a table already occupied by a couple others.

"Heyyy, sorry we're late, we totally lost track of time," a man speaks from the table. His voice sounds familiar, almost comforting, but you’re too preoccupied with watching Yumi take a shot to really think about it.

"I think you mean you lost track of time," a second, more monotone voice speaks.

"Dude, seriously?!" Okay, you know you know that voice. You lean forward against the bar to take a quick glance past Yumi to the table several feet away from you. You quickly scan over the people, trying to be as casual as possible. You see two dark-haired men sitting beside each other, talking quietly with very neutral expressions, making you question whether they want to be there or not. You feel like you recognize the black-haired man, though you can’t place where you’ve seen him.

To their left is a very drunk woman, tears streaming down her flushed face. Beside her is another man with his face turned away from you, his blond hair, that's obviously dyed and desperately needs a retouch, is swept to the side and clipped with a... strawberry barrette?

Your quick and casual glance becomes a stare as you squint in an attempt to see the hair accessory better. You used to have a hair clip just like that one. You wore it all the time and were quite upset when you lost it. Before it can click in your mind, the man turns just enough for you to see his face and...

No, it's not. There's no way. You feel your heart flutter in a way it hasn't in years, but you still refuse to believe what you're seeing. Yumi notices your shocked expression and follows your line of sight, her eyes widening slightly when they land on the table.

"Yooo, is that who I think it is?"

"I'm... I'm pretty sure it is," you say, dazed. It's Usahara, sitting at the table beside you, wearing the hair barrette you lost at his place years ago.

"You should go say hi!" Yumi encourages, patting you on the arm excitedly. You almost get up from your seat right then, but the little shred of hope in your heart disappears when the crying woman suddenly crashes against Usahara's chest and his arms wrap around her. Yumi, whose eyes are trained on you, completely misses what's happening. "You never know, maybe you can pick up where you left off."

You quickly turn your eyes back to your drink, sinking into your seat.

"I doubt that. It was so long ago, I'm sure he's had several girlfriends since then. Look, he's with someone now," you state bluntly. Yumi turns back to see who you're talking about. The woman is now sitting up again, her face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking. She looks to Usahara who is sitting awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to handle the situation.

"Uhh, something tells me it's not like that," Yumi says. She turns back to you and places a gentle hand on your arm. "Come on, Y/n, just say hi. If he's not happy to see you, then we'll hit the next bar and get so drunk you'll forget you even saw him." Yumi grins and you realize it's the same suspicious smile she's had since she mentioned bar hopping the night before. Hold on a second.

"Why do I get the feeling you knew he'd be here?" You say, knowing it sounds like a serious accusation. But the moment the words leave your mouth, Yumi freezes. Gotcha.

"Whaaat? Nooo we're here for the happy hour! Remember?" She waves her hands around as though to distract you as she does her best to defend herself. You give her a "be honest" glare and she cracks within a second. "Okay, yeah, I see him and his friends here a lot, the chances were pretty high," she mutters.

"And that's why you wanted to come here so badly, isn't it?" You question further. Yumi stares into her drink and starts fiddling with her fingers again.

"Umm, that... might've been part of why. But that's beside the point!" She exclaims, looking back up at you. "We're here, he's here, and you should say something!" You remain quiet, unsure if you really should say anything or just try to leave without being seen. And Yumi seems to be able to tell exactly what you're thinking. "If you don't I will."

Uh oh. If there's one thing you've learned about Yumi in your years of being friends, it's that she's not afraid to embarrass herself. If she says she'll do something, chances are, she will. Before you can even respond, Yumi is taking a breath and turning in her chair, ready to shout to the table.

"HE-" she starts, and you swear your heart stops. You grab her arms and pull her back around to you, stopping her call before it gets very loud.

You hide behind her, mortified that she may have accomplished her goal and drawn some attention. You peek over her shoulder thankful to see that Usahara is too busy drinking his beer to have noticed anything. But before you can sigh in relief, your eyes meet those of the man on the other side of the table, and by the look in his steely grey eyes, it's safe to say Yumi had caught his attention. He breaks eye contact, turns back to his friends, and doesn't say a word.

"Okay, okay," you whisper, letting go of Yumi's arms "Just, please don't yell." Yumi giggles happily, satisfied that her plan is working. You take a deep breath and finish your drink quickly before getting up from your seat and adjusting your dress. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but you realize, it's not entirely of anxiety, but excitement. Yumi takes your hand and gives it an encouraging squeeze.

"I'll be right here, ready to support or fly out of here at the slightest notice." You squeeze her hand back and smile. You let go and make your way over to the table. The first person to notice you approaching is the same man you'd made eye contact with just moments before, though he remains quiet. Usahara is distracted with cleaning up a bit of beer that had been knocked over, still completely unaware of your presence. By this point, you've caught everyone's attention, everyone aside from Usahara.

"Tobikichi?" You say, your voice just barely above a whisper. Usahara stops his cleaning, but it takes him a second before he turns to you. His eyes meet yours and, there they are, the special butterflies that you've dreamed of having again since you saw him last.

"No way... Y/n?" Usahara says, not believing his eyes. His look of shock flips into one of joy as he jumps from his seat and, without a second thought, he's wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You hug him back, taking the moment to breathe in his familiar and comforting scent. Yep, he still wears the same cheap cologne. You never knew you could miss a smell so much until you'd said goodbye. He slowly pulls away from you, cool grey eyes scanning over you.

"You look beautiful..." He blurts, causing you both to blush. Before you can accept his compliment, he's moving on. "Haha, ahh, what are you doing here?"

“I’m back from school,” you answer softly. Usahara’s smile grows impossibly wider.

“Like, back for good?”

“Yeah, for good,” you nod in confirmation. Usahara perks, suddenly remembering who he’s with. He moves to stand beside you and places his on your shoulder, sending sparks down your back.

“Oh, by the way!” He starts, lifting his hand to gesture to his table of friends. “You’ve met Kumatani before, right?” Ahh, that’s why he seemed familiar.

“We met once,” Kumatani replies stoically. And now you remember. You’d only met him once, but Usahara would talk about him a lot. He was down to earth and wasn’t afraid to put Usahara in his place when needed. You appreciated it.

“Thought so!” Usahara says, moving on to the other two people. “This is Uramichi and Utano. They’re my co-workers.” You feel relief when you hear “co-workers”. Yumi was right, it isn’t like that. “Too bad Iketeru isn’t here. He’s not a big drinker, so he backed out for tonight.”

“So, how do you guys know each other?” Uramichi asks, suspicious that his annoying co-worker could be friends with someone like you. You and Usahara freeze, neither of you wanting to answer.

“They dated several years ago,” Kumatani answers for you without hesitation. Utano sits straight up, tears still streaming down her face, but at least she’s no longer sobbing.

“Oh, are you the ex he’s always talking about?” She sniffs. You look at her, confused.

“What?” You ask, hoping to get her to elaborate, and Kumatani starts to do just that.

“He talks about you a lot when he’s dru-”

“OKAY!” Usahara shouts, stepping a bit in front of you and cutting Kumatani off before he can expose him any further. “I don’t think we need to talk about any of that.” Actually, yes, I think we do. “Anyway, uhh, are you here by yourself?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, I’m here with-” your sentence is stopped midway through when an arm is slung over your shoulders.

“Me!” Yumi says, leaning over you.

“Oh, Yumi! Long time no see, huh?” Usahara greets.

“Yeaaah, real long time!” Yumi smiles. “Y/n, the girls and I are thinking about getting one more round and then heading out,” she says, pointing back to the bar. You’re about to say that you’ll be right over when Usahara starts to speak.

“Hey, let me buy you a drink!” He offers happily, making Yumi smile.

“Oh, that’s not necessary!” You say.

“Please? As a welcome home,” He says, already pulling out his wallet and heading back to the bar.

“Come on, don’t say no to a free drink!” Yumi pulls you by your arm to follow, and you do, albeit hesitantly. Once you’re at the bar, Yumi returns to the group, leaving you and Usahara there alone.

“Get what you want,” Usahara says after taking a quick flip through his wallet.

“You have the money to make that kind of offer?” You tease.

“WHA-hey! I’ll have you know I’ve gotten better at handling money… kind of.”

“Mhmm?”

“Whatever, I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure.” His face grows red and you laugh at his response. Your eyes catch sight of the little pink and red accessory in his hair again, contrasting sharply against his bleach blond hair.

“By the way, is that my strawberry barrette you’re wearing?” His face couldn’t possibly get any more flushed. His hand flies up to the clip and removes it.

“It… might be,” he mumbles. His hands play around with it, bending the clip back and forth.

“I can’t believe you still have it after all this time,” you whisper. Usahara smiles fondly.

“Well, it is pretty handy,” he jokes. His fidgeting stops and he places the barrette onto the table, sliding it towards you. “Here, you can have it back.” You pick up the hair clip and examine it closely. It looks almost exactly the same as the day you last saw it, aside from some chipped plastic coating on the sides. He’s taken very good care of it. You run your thumb over the bumpy, textured strawberry.

“You keep it,” you say softly. You reach for his hair and gently sweep it behind his ear, clipping it in place with the barrette. “It looks better on you anyway.” Jeez, are you purposefully trying to fluster him? Usahara laughs nervously and rubs his clammy hands on his pants. If his heart beats any faster, he’s convinced it’ll burst right out from his chest.

You order your drinks and sit in awkward silence as you try to figure out what to talk about. You have so much, 4 years' worth. Where do you start?

“So… have you dated anyone since we broke up?” Well, guess that’s one place to start.

“Umm… not really. There was this one guy who lasted a few months, but he turned out to be a total creep,” you answer honestly, your voice faltering a bit.

“Ahh, gotcha,” he says awkwardly. You drag a finger over your glass, watching as the condensation collects and runs down the cool surface.

“What about you? I’m sure you’ve had a girl or two over the last few years, Mr. Mascot,” you laugh lightly, trying to relieve the strange and uncomfortable pressure.

“Haha, I, uh, haven’t had any, actually…”

…Oh

“Hey, Y/n,” Yumi calls. You turn to see her and the others gathering their purses and standing from their seats, some struggling a little more than others. “We’re heading to the next bar. You coming?” Before you can even think of what to answer with, Yumi is shooting you a look that screams “don’t you dare say ‘yes’”. You smile, this was for sure her plan the entire time.

“I think I’ll stay here for a bit longer.” Yumi beams at your reply and walks over to hug you.

“Okay! I’ll see you tomorrow then. Still on for dinner?”

“Yeah of course!”

“Great!” Yumi moves her gaze from you to the man beside you giving him a sweet but serious glare. “Usahara, take care of my girl, ‘kay? Don’t let anything happen to her.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Usahara says nervously. Yumi gives you both another wide smile before walking out the door to catch up with the others. “She’s still as intimidating as I remember,” he says, making you laugh.

You turn back around and catch Usahara already looking at you, an unreadable grin on his face. As soon as you make eye contact, his smile drops and his head whips in a different direction. Subtle. You two resume conversation, catching up on everything you’ve missed out on each other. Usahara’s friends eventually leave as well, leaving just the two of you. You talk about everything, how your schooling went and how much you hate-loved it, how he’s still working as a bunny mascot on a children’s show but he’s generally happy with where he is. Once the initial awkwardness is gone, you speak like no time has passed. It’s as though you had just seen each other yesterday, rather than 4 years ago.

Usahara’s phone buzzes, prompting him to pick it up. His eyes widen when he sees the time. 3 hours have passed, and neither of you can believe it.

“We should probably get going,” he says reluctantly, and you agree. You both stand from the bar and head towards the door where Usahara rushes ahead of you to open it for you. “Let me walk you home!” His proposal catches you off guard.

“You don’t have to do that, I don’t live far,” you say, not wanting him to feel obligated to.

“It’s okay, I want to,” he says confidently. He wants to. You half expected to walk out this door, say your goodbyes, and then be hit with the reality that he didn’t want to see you again. But instead, he’s offering to walk you home because he wants to. You don’t trust your voice to come out clearly, so you just nod and start walking toward your apartment.

The short walk there is silent, but this time, an easy, relaxed silence. You climb the stairs to your doorstep and pull out your keys to unlock your door before you turn back to the man. The atmosphere that was comfortable just a moment ago, is now tense and awkward.

“Thank you for walking me… it was really good to see you, Tobikichi,” you say softly.

“Of course, it was good to see you too,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and shifting his weight from side to side. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” You continue to stand there; neither of you wants to say goodbye. Then, almost subconsciously, you’re stepping forward and wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You feel his muscles tense in surprise before he relaxes and returns your embrace, an arm snaking around your waist and a hand gently holding the back of your head, pressing you closer against him. You have no idea how long you stood there, entangled in each other’s arms and soaking in each other’s warmth. You grasp him as though you’re afraid he’ll disappear.

Usahara finally pulls away from you slowly, but he stops when your eyes meet his. A beat passes before-

“Can I kiss you?” He blurts. What? You don’t answer, your mind still trying to process to be sure you heard him right. Thinking he’s made a mistake, Usahara’s grip starts to loosen, his arm slipping from your side. But before he can let go, you grab onto his shirt, pulling him back against you.

“Please,” you practically whimper. Usually, you would cringe at your behavior. Begging a man to kiss you? Come on. But right now, you can’t find it in you to care about how desperate you may look. You just want his lips on yours, and it’s the only thing you can attempt to be concerned about. His face gets hot, turning almost as pink as the barrette still in his hair, and you can’t help but think it’s a good color on him.

His hands return to your waist, holding you firmly as he leans his face closer to yours. A sharp chill runs down your spine when his lips ghost over yours and you find yourself suppressing a whine that threatens to escape your throat. Usahara smiles mischievously, proud of the reaction he’s so easily able to draw from you. But, as much as he enjoys teasing you, he can’t wait any longer.

His hand runs from your waist, up your side, and to your neck, cradling your face gently. And then, finally, he places a tender kiss against your lips. It’s delicate, familiar, the feeling of his lips moving lightly against yours, like he’s afraid he may break you. Your fists ball in his shirt, tugging him further down in a silent plea, and you feel his lips curve in a smile against yours.

He takes a careful step forward, pushing your back against the door. The kiss quickly moves from sweet and chaste, to needy and passionate. Your hands move from his shirt around his neck, fingers running through his silky hair, pulling a soft, muffled grunt from his lungs.

Your lips part and he gives just enough space for you to see his face and the sight turns your already swirling insides into a storm. Wow, did you miss that look he’s giving you, blushing, flustered and messy. You’re sure you look the same. He leans closer again, pressing his heated forehead against yours.

“I’ve… missed you, so much,” he pants. “You have no idea how happy I was to see you.” He kisses you again, his lips moving feverishly.

“I missed you too. So much, you have no idea. I’m so sorry,” you mutter in between each heated kiss. Usahara breaks the kiss to pull you against him again, his arms embracing you and a deep, contented sigh rushing against your ear. Your hands drag down to his chest and you feel his heart beat frantically against your palms. You stay there for a moment until you remember that you’re standing on your doorstep. He moves to kiss you again, but you stop him before he can.

“Want to come inside?” You whisper against his lips, and he smirks.

“I’d like that. We should start making up for lost time.”

That’s it.

Calum’s vocals in If Walls Could Talk are underrated.