pacifisting | dynamight

From:

[His breath is soft, but there, present. It's almost as if he's trying to soak up the sound of Midoriya's voice, one he has heard for so very long, yet not heard recently for maybe a day and some change.]

Nerd. You should go to fucking sleep.

From:

pacifisting

[ This is probably pathetic but it makes him feel better. Midoriya curls further into the covers, yawning. ]

Well, I'm trying to. That's why I'm talking to you. [ Pause. ] N-not that you're boring to talk to, okay, you know what I mean. I just want to fall asleep listening to you.

[ Better? Sort of? His nose wrinkles and he mashes his face into the marshmallow soft pillow. ]

How are you?

From:

dynamight

[Damn. Midoriya sounds drowsy and comfortable, and Bakugou wants to die. His voice is surprisingly low, like a whisper, like he thinks he'll be too loud for Midoriya to sleep, not realizing it's this way.]

M'fine. [As well as he could be considering.] I guess. [Could be better. With Midoriya.]

You had any of the crazy food yet? [A pause.] What do they fucking sound like? Can you understand them? [Listening to fluent English is wild as hell, he thinks.]

From:

pacifisting

[ He would listen to Bakugou read a phone book if he were given the chance. He'd probably get bored after three names and start yelling and ruin it, but hey. ]

Ms. Potts speaks really good Japanese, so I haven't done too much yet. There was a hot dog vendor outside, though, so I got one of those with onions and ketchup.

[ It was... actually pretty good for food he scarfed down just because it was better than airport food. ]

You know how late at night when we're walking back and you walk past the alley restaurants and you can smell the... mmm, the restaurants, I don't remember which one, but you smell them? It's like that, but all the time, and instead of soup or dumplings, it's....grease? And meat. And probably pee, honestly, it's so dirty.

From:

dynamight

What the fuck? That's disgusting?

[AMERICAN EXPLAIN. Midoriya can probably here the absolute wrinkle in Bakugou's face. Great. It's over. Midoriya is going to contract the black plague in America and be dead before Bakugou ever even knows it's happening.]

What the hell are the heroes doing? Don't they take care of their fucking city? [He doesn't understand. ShockedPikachu.jpg? How are there people who don't know how to keep their city functioning and clean?] I can't believe you ate a fucking hot dog from the street knowing it smells like grease and piss!

The fuck kinda name is "Potts"? Ask her what the fuck is wrong with New York--why's it so dirty!

[HE'S SO OFFENDED.]

From:

pacifisting

Kacchan's worse than my mother.

[ Midoriya's voice is teasing and sing-song, because it's absolutely true. He refuses to be his father: a year is plenty of time to leave the people you care about, do something useful, and come back. Especially when he has this to come back to. ]

I'm not going to contract anything out on the street, my immune system is too strong.

[ He's just listening to Bakugou's indignance with a sleepy smile and whatever he says next is only half-listened to because Midoriya is out like a light. ]

From:

dynamight

[??? Bakugou can't believe he's being compared to Midoriya's MOTHER. Worse than Midoriya's mother? Allow him to astral project into hell. Naturally, he puts up a fuss about this, each sentence laced with at least one vulgar word of some fashion before he realizes Midoriya is sounding more and more distant.

It's the only thing that quiets him down. He's met with mostly silence and the sound of deep, leveled breathing, something that could turn into a snore but won't. Very, very softly, he asks,] Deku...? [Just to be sure.

When he doesn't get an answer, he spends the next ten minutes just listening to Midoriya sleep, unsure if he should feel worse for it considering he can't see Midoriya's face, can't run his fingers along it, can't feel the rise and fall of Midoriya's chest.

A whole lot of nerve is required, a lot of second-guessing, but he does it. Soft, fast. A peak moment when Midoriya won't know and can't embarrass him for it later. He's not worried about a rejection. He's more worried about an acceptance.] Love you.

[And then he reluctantly hangs up.]

From:

pacifisting

[ Midoriya sends a heartfelt text in the morning apologizing for falling asleep on him even if that was the original plan. Time passes faster than he thinks it will, really.

Month one Mr. Stark barely interacts with him. He meets the others, though, his group of friends who Pepper warns him not to call "friends" because he'll just wave it off. (They are friends, though.) He wants the others to come visit and meet all of them because it's one thing to know that when you grow up you're going to have friends who do amazing things and it's another to meet people who have ten, twenty (thousands, in the case of Thor?) of years on them but they're still heroing, still doing what they need to do.

Tony inputs a translator into his suit but they won't let him use it to talk to anyone else when he's doing normal things. It's for the best; it's like an immersive course in English that works in a way school didn't. He's not the best at it but he's passable. There are good missions and bad ones; the bad ones feel particularly bad, but that's how it works. Everything is different here; the press, the heroes, the food. He immerses himself in it, takes up training with as many of them as he can and can feel himself getting stronger, better.

It starts to snow and Midoriya is torn between wishing he picked somewhere warmer and loving it, mostly because it's so much. Outside is chilly and inside is toasty warm and while he's not much of a drinker, he's shared multiple hot cocoas with Ms. Potts and it's...nice. Thor, at one point, gives him something to drink and tells him to take very little because it's heavy, the stuff that gets Asgardians (or super serumed soldiers named Steve and Bucky) drunk.

Every night he can, he calls the others. It's usually a weird hour for the time difference but it's alright. Uraraka, Tsuyu, Todoroki and Iida all share phone time so they can demand answers from him as a group. Group calls are loud and chaotic and Midoriya loves them, but it's the quiet night calls with Bakugou, where he falls asleep listening to him that are his favorite.

Finally, though, finally, he's visiting and Midoriya is at the airport an hour early but he doesn't care. He forces himself to sit and orders a latte he really doesn't need, waiting and waiting for the phone to land or Bakugou to get service back on his phone, whichever is first. ]

From:

dynamight

[Culture shock starts the moment he gets on the airline jet that goes from Tokyo International to Seattle-Tacoma International, and it only gets worse from there. The first plane is mostly Japanese, though at least twenty percent of the people on board are foreigners returning to America.

It's fine. The food offered is Japanese and the instructions (which he doesn't realize he takes for granted yet) are in Japanese, and that's what matters.

Being in Seattle, however, is a wild ride. He refuses to leave the airport, but even the airport itself is definitely American, full of Americans. Everything pretty much is in English. He's a fish out of water. He's smart enough to know a lot of phrases, a lot of words, but it's spoken so quickly he feels stupid having to pause to sort it and play it back in his mind in Japanese instead.

Then he just gets frustrated. He's trying not to blow his top overseas at an international airport. He has to text Midoriya a few times to bitch.

In the end, he has half an hour to nurse a grande frap and the ugliest onigiri he's ever seen in his entire life. Then he has to get on another plane to New York, and the population on board has turned into 98%-2% with him squeezed against a window. He can't believe how long it takes to get across one country? Wild.

Landing at JFK is a godsend. The whole journey feels like a warp through time, and he isn't sure if he's coming or going, if he even exists at all anymore. Did he sleep? He's sure he did, but can't remember when or how long. It feels like it's almost four in the morning, but it's only two in the afternoon.

Who is he?

Even though Midoriya doesn't get a text, Midoriya does eventually get a very tired and existentially disturbed exploding man being expelled out of the mouth of the plane ramp and into the airport with a duffle bag and a backpack. He looks as if he's Had a Time.

Which he just stands there a yard or so out of the way and stares blankly for a minute. KatsukiBakugou.exe has encountered a problem and needs to restart.]

From:

pacifisting

[ The moment he sees Bakugou relief hits him like a ton of bricks. It sounds like it was a shitshow from start to finish but now he can grab him, bring him back for a nap and take him out to all the places he's found. He can do all of the things he's been dying to do, talking about doing with Bakugou and he's so excited that all exhaustion feels like it's burned away.

He has a beanie tossed over his messy hair, mostly because the undercut means that the nape of his neck is always cold now, how did people in New York deal with this? Everything else is in muted greens and grays, save for big red boots that have replaced his joggers. The third time he came back with drenched shoes he asked Ms. Potts if there were anywhere he could get boots. It turns out, there were, but also, people just...came to the tower and brought boots for him to try on and it was very weird.

Either way, though, his feet are warm and Bakugou's here and while he can't run over and kiss him stupid, he can jog over and collide with him in a furious hug, like a thousand pound truck running into a brick wall. ]

Hi. Do we need to wait for baggage? It's not going to take super long but we'll have to find the carousel that your flight matches with. [ A pause, glancing down. ] Wait, no, this is all you brought isn't it?

From:

dynamight

[It takes a second for Midoriya to register. He's seen the other man so much in pictures and video calling, but it feels... as if he hasn't seen Midoriya in forever honestly. It feels so long.

His hand drops the duffle bag the moment he's hit, and the backpack slides off his shoulder to join it on the ground. Both large arms encircle Midoriya's neck and shoulders, and he crushes them together, shoving his face down into the bunched crevice of Midoriya's neck. Squeezes his eyes shut, curls all ten fingers into the clothes.

If he could meld with Midoriya, he probably would.

Something in the pit of him ignites, something that has been dormant since their parting. Maybe it's One For All, maybe it's the spiritual energy of the passable quirk, each piece finding, feeling, recognizing the other piece in them both.

Bakugou doesn't cry, but he does hug like he wants to sort of. Lifts Midoriya a few inches off the ground before returning the feet. No kissing, but it's fine. There'll be plenty of kissing later.] Suitcase. [His voice is strained and hoarse, growly, all muffled in Midoriya's clothes. He's just so glad to be grounded.]

Gotta call the old hag, too.

From:

pacifisting

[ Midoriya resists the urge to pick him up and spin him like he wants to but it's a close thing. This is enough for right now, pressing his face into the dip of Bakugou's throat, inhaling. This is better than hoodies exchanged through the mail, this is better than lining his bed with pillows to try and imitate the real thing.

Midoriya knew he's going to cry but it's one thing to know it and another to feel his eyes pricking with relieved tears, squeezing him tighter, hiding his face a moment. ]

Okay, we'll get it. [ There's no kissing on the lips, but Midoriya's shameless: he presses his face in and presses a warm (slightly damp-cheeked) kiss to the base of his throat and then withdraws slowly, smiling. ] You can call her really fast and I'll get your suitcase for you?

[ The hand at Bakugou's back smooths down, settles under his jacket to press at the small of it, tugging him in for another lingering hug before Midoriya forces himself back with a strangled laugh. ]

It's so good to see you.

From:

dynamight

[Despite not crying, Bakugou's face and neck are speckled with a pink flush. He rubs his cheek and nose with the sleeve of his arm and jacket, trying to will the embarrassment away. No. Trying to will the happiness away. He's not happy!! He's not anything at all for this dumbass nerd!]

Yeah.

[Nailed it. For some reason, his heart doesn't want to stop pounding in his chest. Seeing Midoriya again... being in some wildly new place... It's too much. He needs a nap. (He misses the onsens already.)] What the... [He pauses just for a second, then snaps his hand out to snatch the hat off Midoriya's head.] The fuck...?

[His wide fingers curl around the back of Midoriya's neck... up? There's nothing. The pads of his fingers and his palms receive the tickle of soft stubble at the curve of Midoriya's head, and he rubs up and down to feel. There's nothing until he runs into the fluffy locks sitting high at the back.

It's weird. There is something older about this, something mature. Something hotter. Not a head full of stupid Deku mane, but a sleek and fashionable shave with a hint of endearing cuteness. Midoriya hadn't ever showed him the fucking back.

Bakugou looks surprised, half entranced, still flushed.]

What the fuck... [It's whispered, pleasantly Japanese. His hand slides away, lost between the two of them with the hat only partially offered, more hanging stunned.] You think I won't find a way to pull your hair still, damn nerd...?

From:

pacifisting

[ The undercut was mostly an afterthought when he went in to get his bangs trimmed. Ms. Potts (always Ms. Potts, he kind of loves her and wants Yaomomo to meet her desperately) had recommended a salon and he had nearly choked when he saw the final amount. Affordable, sure, because Mr. Stark was made of money apparently and they paid him a frankly obscene amount, but he never looked at the pay. They always went into a joint account he had with his mother so she could use it as needed.

The haircut was taken care of before he even got there, so it doesn't really matter, but he tipped ridiculously well when it was done, because the stylist had made his unruly mop manageable and he did like the undercut.

Now, with Bakugou's hand stroking over it, Midoriya hums with pleasure and snags the hat back, beaming up at him. He should have tipped even more, this is great. ] I really hope you will.

[ It's said low and intimate, just for him and then Midoriya's picking up his bags easily, throwing them over his shoulder as the carousel starts to blink and screech its awful alert. ]

It's about a thirty minute drive to the tower. If you're hungry, we can stop for food, or we can get something ordered there. Whatever's easiest.

[ He took the subway here but after that flight and Bakugou's day he's not going to make him suffer through the subway, he knows better. ]

From:

dynamight

[Jesus? Excuse him? Who the fuck took Izuku Midoriya, and who the hell is this fucker actually? It's not... the same person. Bakugou is shook. There's... no way... this is the same person who left Japan.

It's both attractive and infuriating, Midoriya's spike in confidence. How easy it is for Midoriya to grab his bags up and talk to him assertively about everything in this crazy damn country, this city. It isn't until this moment he has another realization that Midoriya isn't behind him anymore.

He's the one who is going to have to scramble to keep up.

Frankly, he stares for a long, hard, solid minute. The look is visible on his face. Finally, he moves, but slow, unsure. No, like he's trying to process it. He got on a plane and went into a vortex to another dimension!] Uh... [Crazy. He doesn't know how to use his words.

WORDS? His face crumbles, frustrated. Worried.] Whatever. I don't... give a shit. [He doesn't know any places here. He doesn't know the food, the drink, anything hardly. But Midoriya does.] As long as it doesn't taste like grease and piss.

From:

pacifisting

[ Is it too much? Is he too much?

The hesitation makes Midoriya hesitate in turn because Bakugou's just staring at him and Midoriya's suddenly awfully self-conscious again in the way that only the other man can make him. Maybe he should have left the bags. ]

Um. Okay. I'll make sure we avoid those. [ H-haha. Well, the bags aren't going to get themselves, so Midoriya takes him by the arm after tugging the beanie back on and then takes them to the proper place to grab the suitcase. He sees it come down and hefts it easily, but next to them is a woman with three kids trying to wrangle them and get bags at the same time.

He arranges Bakugou's stuff near him and then goes to crouch next to the kids, quietly asking them which bags are theirs after checking with the mother if he can help. One of them, the middle girl, clearly recognizes him because there's a moment where she stops, stares, and then looks at Bakugou consideringly, eyes narrow. Once all the bags are hefted up and organized on a cart, Midoriya waves off the thanks and gives the mother a bright smile, bowing and then catching himself, sheepishly rubbing the nape of his neck. ]

Sorry. Come on, we should go before it gets too busy. Let's get to the tower and then we can figure out what we wanna do?

From:

dynamight

[Without hesitation, Bakugou follows after, ready to reach up and grab the bags just to prove he can carry them himself. It feels too weird having Midoriya lug his stuff around. Thankfully, at the carousel, it’s all dropped. He gets the duffle and the backpack up again. The suitcase rolls, so it won’t be much of a problem, not even if Midoriya decides to push it along.

Then Midoriya is gone? Bakugou looks up, and the other man is crouched by the family. He frowns, and then he glares mildly at the girl when she gives him a kind of once-over, unsure of what she’s thinking. Judging him? Not knowing him? Does this little girl wanna freaking square up? He’ll fight a middle child, don’t think he won’t. He takes all his opponents seriously, kid or adult, man or woman.

But she says nothing, and his face softens again some. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget there’s more to being a hero than blasting C4 levels of nitroglycerin at villains. This is the part he has always struggled with the most. Helping on a social level, talking to people. He just isn’t... cut out for it. His quirk has always been about power, destruction. His whole lofe has been about that.

He feels vastly inadequate standing beside Midoriya, even if he would never say.] Mn. [He nods toward the rolling suitcase, refusing to give up the duffle and backpack.]

The “Tower.” Fine. Hurry the hell up.

From:

pacifisting

[ Waiting in the cab line isn't too bad mostly because they get there quickly enough and Midoriya leans forward, giving the address to an unimpressed cabbie. He lets Bakugou handle the bags because he knows better than to push the issue, but oh, he wants to. Either way, escaping the airport is a relief. When they're in and settled and off onto the road, they hit near instantaneous traffic which Midoriya isn't shocked by, but he gives Bakugou an apologetic little smile. ]

What kind of food are you thinking? If we're walking, I can show you some of the stuff around there but if you want to stay in that's fine, too. There's a list of delivery places a mile long.

[ The cab driver weaves in and out of traffic like he has a deathwish and Midoriya doesn't look phased in the slightest, too busy looking at Bakugou, drinking in the sight of him like a parched man who found a spring in the desert. One hand slides over, fingers dragging lightly over the back of Bakugou's hand, tracing little designs back and forth. ]

There's this tapas place in Brooklyn that I went to last week and it's...so good. I had no idea. The Tower's pretty central but for the most part it's a lot of businesses nearby. On the thirtieth floor there are a bunch of restaurants and honestly, we could probably get most anything else ordered up to the room so if that's easier, that's fine. I know traveling is... a lot and with a layover and the- everything, you know. [ A pause for breath, his smile widening just a little as he bumps their shoulders. ] You look great, by the way.

From:

dynamight

[Even if he’s tired, there’s no desire to make Midoriya shut up. The talking causes his brows to knit, but he doesn’t say anything. Merely rests his elbow on the door and his head in his palm, lids his eyes. The driver’s reckless journey through the street doesn’t seem to bother him. At least, not right now, not this one. (Give him time.) He may have dozed off, especially with Midoriya tickling the back of his hand.

The shoulder bump wakes him, and he sits up only a bit straighter as if thinking they might be stopping soon, drops his arm, the length of it gently numb. Out the window, nothing is familiar. He feels lost all over again, only relieved by the idea Midoriya is with him.

He glances back at Midoriya, grunting softly to clear his throat.] Yeah. [Not knowing what Midoriya had really said near the end. Agreeing is fine. It’ll be fine...

The sit turns into a lean toward Midoriya, one he isn’t completely aware of necessarily.] I don’t care. [He sounds drowsy, so maybe it’s obvious he had nodded off earlier.] Just take me... some fucking place. [He can’t help it; his head leans over. He just wants a quick recharge, preferably on Midoriya’s shoulder. Being stuck in traffic isn’t helping..] Just take me somewhere good... damn.

If you think it’s good... I guess... I fucking trust it.

From:

pacifisting

[ Oh, no, he's sleepy and cute and they're absolutely getting delivery. They can go somewhere nice for dinner. ]

Come here.

[ Seatbelts are limiting and probably would only keep them from getting thrown if they were in a crash; they're both durable enough he's relatively certain they'd survive but he's also not about to tempt fate. Instead, tugs Bakougou in by a firm hand his shoulder, pressing his cheek to the top of his head. He's probably going to fall asleep but that's good, and if he needs it Midoriya's going to enable it. ]

Mmm. So on 41st there's a Thai place, run by really nice people. There was a villain that stopped in there at one point and tried to rob it when I was getting lunch and now whenever I go in there the waitress gives me free appetizers, so I have to pay with card and then tip because they're ridiculous about it. A few blocks from that there's a burger place I think you'll probably like. The line's always crazy, but...

[ He keeps talking, low and quiet until they pull up to the front of the tower and someone pops the trunk to handle the bags. Midoriya passes his credit card through (thank you Ms. Potts, because it is laughably difficult to get a fucking bank account and being a hero means exactly nothing to American banking institutions, apparently) and then once he gets it back he tucks it away, squeezing Bakugou's shoulder rather than stroking any bare skin he can reach. Sleeping on a shoulder is...friendly. The other stuff is probably a little too intimate for the public. ]

Hey. We're here.

From:

dynamight

[Midoriya isn't wrong: Bakugou absolutely falls asleep again. It's more of a doze, a flutter open of his eyes for half a second when they stop suddenly, or when traffic drastically happens to change. But he's gone nevertheless.

Midoriya's shoulder is comfortable even if the seat belt cuts into his chest and digs into his side. He doesn't budge from the position, distantly listening to the thrum of Midoriya's voice chattering away about nothing in particular.

It relaxes him, surprisingly.

When he's roused, not the way he wants to be roused, his neck is stiff and his side aches. He feels, he thinks, worse for the nap and not better. Foggy, drowsy, as if sleep is trying desperately to drag him back. He blinks out of the windows, trying to reorient himself in a place he isn't even familiar.] Mn. [The purr is thick with sleep and hoarse, but pleasant.

The sun is maybe brighter for being in a city when he gets out of the door, and he raises his forearm to shield his eyes with a cast of shadow until he's use to standing in the sun without being incredibly tired.

Whichever poor fool is handling the bags gets some growled Japanese; Bakugou relinquishes the duffle and the suitcase, but keeps the backpack. Honestly, it feels like much of his life is in it, and there's security in knowing he has it, in the fact it's strapped to his back and not being walked by someone he doesn't know.]

This? Tch. [He tips his head back and peers up. Geez. Americans.] Too flashy. [It's sleek and modern. He likes it alright. Won't admit it.] Too tall.

From:

pacifisting

[ He likes all versions of Bakugou (mostly, the asshole for no reason one is still a little irritating) but sleepy, groggy Bakugou is probably his favorite and is the cutest. Midoriya holds back on the urge to touch him more and instead thumbs through bills in his wallet to give to the doorman, nudging Bakugou gently. ]

You know when you poke a sleeping cat and it makes that..."mmrow" noise? [ His cat impression? Not as good as his All Might. ] You do that sometimes when I wake you up. It's cute.

[ And then before Bakugou can respond, he's tugging him by the arm into the doors. If it wouldn't be a logistical nightmare, he'd see if he could jump up to the helipad, or if Bakugou's explosions could propel them up there but right now, he's more focused on getting a grumpy, sleepy boyfriend up into the tower. ]

It's...a lot, yeah. But then you meet the person who had it built and it all just sort of makes sense. He's...he's interesting. [ That's a word. Midoriya has told Bakugou plenty about him, but he's still an experience in person. ] They'll handle the bags. It's sort of like a hotel, I guess?

From:

dynamight

[Again:] Mn? [Not unlike the chirrup of a sleepy cat. He doesn't get whatever Midoriya is trying to say. Well, he does, but he's not sure why it applies to him because cute and Katsuki Bakugou should never be in the same sentence ever.

Rubbing an eye, he lets Midoriya guide him along, and it may have been better if Midoriya gave them a Mario jump or if he blew them to the helipad; by the end, he would have been more awake at least.]

Stark.

[Bakugou doesn't sound at all impressed.] This is fucking stupid. They should make up their mind whether they want this to be a damn attraction or a business building. [If Midoriya thought grouching (for a while) could be weaseled out of, Midoriya was wrong. He's... thankfully not yelling. Small blessings.

But he can pick out the pieces of the tower Midoriya had sent him in photos and, sometimes, video. They fall together like a puzzle. The floor, the walls, certain architectural designs, things he had seen in the background behind Midoriya's fluffy green head. He's looking all around, memorizing. Seeming kind of awed and curious even if he won't admit it.]

From:

pacifisting

Kacchan.

[ It is big building and there are still unused floors which is kind of absurd, really, but they're filling it bit by bit and the chaos is welcoming in its own way. The complaining, at least, is familiar. Midoriya rolls his eyes and doesn't take him on the scenic route despite how much he wants to.

That comes later after he tugs Bakugou into bed and gets some food into him. But despite the complaining, Bakugou's looking around, he's slowing and he seems curious about all of it so he slows, in turn, pressing them shoulder to shoulder. ]

There's not a lot of places to build here these days, not unless you go out further so they're building up instead of out. Mr. Stark isn't even here all of the time, but some of the others are. I got lost three times my first week until JARVIS told me he could get into my phone and would alert me if I was going the wrong way.

[ IT'S WILD. Midoriya gestures down a hall, all glass and steel. ] That puts you out onto the street, where the hotdog vendor is. I'm not letting you leave until you try one. Or a bite of mine. That's fine too.

From:

dynamight

So? Japan's been doing that shit for years.

[He's trying!! so hard!! to not be impressed!! by this grade-A American piece of work!! Let him have this, Midoriya.] "JARVIS"? The AI thing? [He forgot about that for a second.] Fuck. [This sucks. It knows Japanese, doesn't it? It knows a ton of languages.

He's screwed.] I ain't trying any of your garbage pissdogs, Deku. [He's going to one hundred percent try a New York hotdog because they are amazing, and he'll eat it and enjoy it. And shut up.

Luckily, he's probably only grouchy from flying and being tired, on top of being somewhat hungry. When he gets his sleep schedule straightened out--when he gets to be curled against and tangled with Midoriya, when he gets laid--and some food in him, he'll be fine.] Just get me into the room, dammit.

I'll worry about this fucking glass Pez dispenser later.

Edited (HTML STOP) Date: 2018-11-29 03:41 am (UTC)