#GIVE LASAGNA YOUR MONEY THIS BOOT IS AMAZING!?!?!?!

[thesnappiestoperator]

Those weeks full of joy, then a moment of dread Someone simply said your child is...

Next To Normal - Donmar Warehouse - September, 2023

Taper: @lasagnatrades

Stars: Caissie Levy, Jamie Parker, Jack Wolfe, Eleanor Worthington-Cox, Jack Ofrecio, Trevor Dion Nicholas

[solynaceawrites]

Promise Me Forever [2]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends to Lovers Chapters: 2/14 co-written by @lickitysplitfic​ Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they’re meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he’s forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between him.

Welcome to part two of Promise Me Forever! I missed the upload date yesterday (damn you for being so fun, Spyro . . .), so I hope you’ll pardon my being late. As always, we hope you enjoy, and please don’t hesitate to let us know if you do, whether through comments, kudos, or sending us a private message!

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The sun is down and the streetlights are on when Dante walks into the Devil May Cry, nearly colliding with Lir who is just on the other side of the door. "Stop doing that!" he shouts, reaching out on reflex to grab her elbow to keep her from falling.

"You're back!" she cries, looking up at him in surprise.

"Yeah," he sighs. He frowns at her flushed face and the trash bag in her hand. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning." She heaves the trash bag up, almost as big as she is, and pushes it at him. "Take this out, would you?"

Dante holds up his hands. "Woah, wait, what are you doing? Didn't I tell you not to touch my stuff?"

Lir glares at him, giving him a look that would be intimidating if she wasn't a head shorter than him. "I'm not touching your stuff," she snaps. "I'm cleaning your mess. Did you know you even had towels?"

He frowns and looks around. The lights are on, and the shop looks . . . different. The floors are sparkling, the piles of containers and papers on his desk are gone, the boots and clothing items in piles have been removed, and there is a scent of clean in the air. "You what?"

"I cleaned. The kitchen and the office and that thing you called a bathroom." Lir holds up the trash bag again. "Now take this outside."

Momentarily at a loss for words—a rarity for him, to be certain—he takes it from her and turns around, carting it easily to the cans in front of the building. Not only is each one full of things he's been neglecting to throw away, but it's all been sorted, as well, the recycling tucked neatly into its respective bins, glass separated from paper, which has been separated from plastic. Not sure what to make of it, Dante drops the new addition into the least full can and heads back into the shop.

He finds Lir sitting on the floor, her knees tucked beneath her as she works on scrubbing the baseboards, and he pauses to take her in. She's cute, hell, she's gorgeous, but she's also young. There's now way she's any older than twenty, maybe twenty-five if he's being generous, and he scratches the stubble on his cheek with a sigh as she leans over, her skirt clinging to her backside. I was trained in the arts of pleasure.

Pleasure. Right.

"There a reason you did all of this?" Dante asks. She looks at him, and he's struck, like he was the first time he saw her, by the bright amber of her eyes, not unlike the whiskey sitting in polished bottles on the shelves. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful. Just seems like you could have found something else to do."

Lir huffs, not quite a laugh, as she wipes her forearm on her brow. "Do what? I wasn't cooking in that kitchen. No way I was using that bathroom." Dante rolls his eyes as she gestures towards the steps. "I didn't get much done upstairs yet, but I did put all the bedding in the washing machine. Should be done soon."

"I have a washing machine?" She frowns at him until she realizes he is kidding, and Dante smirks when she makes a face.

"Very funny." She drops her sponge into a bucket, standing and stretching her back. "Are you hungry?"

"Uh, I guess?" Dante shrugs and stashes his guitar case, pausing to rub his fingers along the polished wood of his desk. "I was going to order a pizza."

Lir laughs behind him. "You can't eat that junk. Come on, I've made you something."

Curious, Dante follows her into the kitchen, his mouth dropping open when he enters. It is sparkling, the counters and floors and sink shining, the table washed, the stove cleaned of its stains. There is an amazing smell coming from the oven, and it is almost enough to distract him from watching as Lir bends over to open the oven door. He tilts his head to admire her backside as she reaches in, quickly straightening when she places something on the top and turns around. "Sit down," she smiles sweetly.

He complies, but watches her carefully. "It's not poison, is it?" he asks.

"No," Lir laughs.

He watches in surprise as she moves around, pulling a knife from one drawer, a spatula from another, a plate from a cabinet overhead. "I have oven mitts?" Dante says in surprise, and Lir chuckles as she places a plate in front of him.

"There you are," she says, her voice sweet. Dante looks at her in shock, then back down at the plate, where a huge piece of lasagna sits, steaming hot and covered in perfectly golden layers of cheese. "Much better than a yucky old pizza, isn't it?"

He swallows, his mouth suddenly watering as his stomach growls, still too astonished to argue her pizza comments. Lir hands him silverware and moves to get her own plate. She returns to the table and sits across from him, a smaller piece on her own plate, and she gestures to him as she lays a napkin on her lap. "Go on," she laughs. "Try it."

She doesn't have to tell him twice. Trying to have some semblance of table manners, he uses the knife to cut a bite-sized portion of the lasagna and plops it in his mouth, uncaring of how it singes his tongue. It tastes absolutely divine, the sauce rich, the cheese melted to a cream, the meat cooked to perfection, the noodles firm, and he quickly swallows the first bite and dives in for another. Across from him, Lir smiles as she starts on her own, and he watches her take dainty, measured bites.

"Gotta tell you," Dante says, taking a swig of the beer she'd placed at his elbow, "you're a better cook than I gave you credit for."

She perks up at that, and it almost hurts him how much such a simple bit of praise from him means to her. "I'm glad you're enjoying it," she replies, the faint lilt to her voice soft and sweet. "I wasn't entirely certain what to make for you, but I thought that this was similar enough to pizza that you might find it to your tastes."

He stuffs another huge forkful in his mouth, nodding as he swallows. "It's great. Really." Lir smiles and ducks her face, taking her own much smaller bite.

She sighs as she chews, reaching for a glass of water as he eats. "I'm surprised I had all the ingredients," he remarks. "I had no idea I had lasagna noodles!"

"Oh, I made them," she says as she blows on another bite.

Dante nearly chokes. "You made lasagna noodles? From scratch?"

Lir shrugs. "It's just some flour and eggs." She meets his gaze, chuckling behind her hand. "What, is it hard?"

His surprise turns to suspicion again. "Where did you learn to do all this?"

"I told you, I was raised and trained to marry the son of Sparda." Dante winces, hearing it said out loud again making him feel ridiculous. "Besides, every adult on the planet knows how to cook and clean," she says quickly. "Except you, perhaps."

He considers that, and her. It's hard to picture her as either a thief or an assassin; she's damn near tiny, especially next to him, and she'd been upfront about knowing magic, which wouldn't be the smartest move to make if she meant him harm. And her hands are smooth, free of calluses or any other sign that she's ever held a weapon. "Never had time to learn, I guess," he replies.

Dante watches the gears churning behind her eyes. Another mark against her in terms of being sent to fight him: her face is an open book, her emotions displayed without any attempt to conceal them. "I see," she says. "Well, I can make other meals for you, if you wish. And if you tell me what sort of things you don't like, I can avoid using them as ingredients."

"Olives."

"Olives?"

"Hate 'em." He takes another drink of beer. "Pizza place I usually order from knows I don't like 'em, so they'll put 'em on whatever I ask for if I owe 'em money. Which is more often than not."

"I see." She stands and takes her empty plate to the sink. "Anything else?"

"I like strawberries," he offers.

Lir smiles over at him. "So do I."

The sweetness makes him almost uncomfortable, and he finishes his meal in silence as he watches her. Lir seems very much at home in his kitchen, washing the plate and utensils, finding some tinfoil to cover the leftovers before sliding the pan into the refrigerator, then running some water and soap in the sink to wipe down the stove. He doesn't ever remember anyone acting like this—even his adoptive mother never was so domestic, as they were on the move all the time—and he can't really remember much about Eva than a few specific memories. And the women in his life now, Lady and Trish specifically, wouldn't clean his kitchen for a million dollars. He makes a mental note to ask Nero if Kyrie is like this, betting she might be.

It's . . . nice, he decides.

"All done?" she asks, moving to take his plate.

"I'll do it," Dante insists, standing and sliding around her to take the plate to the sink. Quickly he washes it up and deposits it into the dish rack as Lir wipes the table behind him.

When he is done, she is gone, and he finds her in the laundry room off the side of the kitchen, pulling sheets out of the dryer. "Need any help?" he asks from the doorway.

"It's alright." She gives him one of those smiles again, like she's happy just to be around him, and he doesn't know what to make of it. "Why don't you take a shower? There are fresh towels in the bathroom, and I found some shampoos tucked under the vanity."

Lir's expression is bright, but there is something that sits uneasy, so he decides on a little experiment. Leaning one arm up on the doorway, he grins and says, "Want to join me?"

The shock on her face is almost worth it, as is the red that stains her cheeks. "I, uh . . . we aren't married yet," she stammers.

"Did they not teach you how to shower in your pleasure class?" he teases.

She shoots him a look, and he sees a bit of the fire from earlier. "No," she answers sharply. "I was taught how to behave properly."

Dante snorts. Lir tries to step around him, but he does not budge, giving her a sultry look. "You're here to please me, right? Isn't that what you said?"

"Yes, but—"

"You made me dinner. Cleaned my place. I'd love to take you upstairs," he says, low and teasing.

Lir looks almost startled. "Are you being serious?" she hisses.

Dante shrugs. "I mean, like you said, we're not married, and yet you're doing all the other stuff."

"I thought if I showed you—" 

She cuts herself off, and Dante raises his brows. "Go ahead," he taunts her. "Finish your thought."

Her shoulders slump. "I thought if I showed you that I could do those things, you'd want to keep me. And I . . . The cooking lessons weren't exactly pleasant, but I enjoyed making that for you."

"I see. Thought you could get one over on me, hm?" Lir's eyes go wide as she shakes her head, but Dante pushes, "Thought if you cooked me something, swept up a bit, swing your ass in my direction that I'd just fall head over heels for you?"

Her jaw tenses, and any guilt he feels for the accusation is canceled by the satisfaction of seeing it hit its mark. "That's it, hm? Thought your pretty smile and some homemade cooking would do the trick? Well guess what, honey. This son of Sparda is smarter than he looks. And I still don't trust you."

"I just wanted to show you that I could be useful," she argues. He cocks a patronizing brow, smiling thinly as he waits for whatever justification she's going to come up with. "I thought if you . . . if you saw that I could help you somehow it would make up for . . . whatever it is about my appearance that you don't like."

Okay, that . . . felt weird. Bad weird, like a punch in his gut that left a puddle of slime in its wake. "It's, uh . . . not your looks, sweetheart," he says. "I just don't like strangers. Strangers are usually trouble."

Lir bows her head. "Women, too," he says. "Not a fan."

There is a pause, and then he watches her brows twitch, then rise almost to her hairline before she looks up at him with a gasp. "Oh! Oh! Is that . . . oh my goodness, I never even considered that!"

She covers her laugh with a hand as Dante frowns. "What?"

"You prefer men. Is that it?" Lir grins at him brightly as she nods. "No wonder you don't want to marry me! It all makes sense now!"

"What? What?" How did this happen, he wonders, watching her eyes light up with mirth. He had wanted to catch her off guard, to figure out what she's actually after, if it's something as simple as whatever promise his father made or more nefarious, and now he's left gaping at her, struggling for words again. "No. No! That's not . . . Where the hell did you come up with that?"

His surprise makes him sound angry, and Dante watches as the laughter on her face dies as quickly as it came, that odd sensation of doing something wrong back in his chest. "You said you aren't a fan of women," Lir says hesitantly.

"The only two I know are hunters," he replies, "and neither of them ever visit me with good news."

"Oh."

He scrambles for something. "Cindy is nice." The words are awful and, he realizes belatedly, the wrong thing to say when she takes a step back. "She's a gal who works at the ice cream counter. But she's pretty ignorant of the stuff I do."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. And Patty. You'll see her around here eventually, not a week goes by without that girl showing up here wanting something."

Her eyes are like saucers and Dante realizes how all this sounds. "Just friends!" he cries, putting up his hands. "But I'm not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I like ladies. And ladies like me. Just . . . not those ladies."

Lir frowns. "You don't like them or they don't like you?"

"They're . . ." What should he say? Calling Lady and Trish his friends feels too intimate; they all get along, sure, but they don't visit socially, Trish is often gone for months at a time working her own jobs, and Lady only really shows up to give him a job or collect money. "Business partners," he mumbles.

"All of them?"

"Nah. Well, Patty will tell you she is, but what she means is she likes to show up and redecorate my office and bug me about whatever soap opera she's watching." Dante scratches the back of his head. "Look, it's like this: I don't have a clue about this promise my old man is supposed to have made. I don't know you and, quite frankly, you don't know me. And . . ." His mind flickers dimly back to his mother. "Well, having a spouse in my line work is just asking for trouble. It's got nothing to do with your looks or you bein' useful. It's just not a good idea."

"Oh." Lir's eyes fall, as if thinking, and Dante rubs the back of his neck. "I guess I never thought of it like that. I had assumed you would know, it never occurred to me you wouldn't." She breathes a deep sigh and then shrugs. "I'll stay the night, if that's okay. Then tomorrow I'll figure out what to do."

"Yeah, yeah of course." He stands aside as she carries the linens out of the laundry room, trailing after her as she heads for the steps. "Let me get those," Dante insists, grabbing the pile she can barely see over as she climbs up the first one.

"I can do it fine," Lir protests, but he easily scoops them away. She bristles a bit but finally turns and heads upstairs, and Dante follows, trying hard not to stare at her backside and failing miserably.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Dante doesn't sleep well that night. He rarely does, but he finds himself straining to hear through the walls, wondering what his guest is doing to occupy herself, feeling something akin to guilt every time the hurt look on her face when she said she only wanted to be useful flashes in his thoughts. Those people couldn't have sent him a bitch, could they? Someone he could tear apart without remorse, someone with a body that didn't make his mouth water every time he caught a tease of it beneath their clothes?

Because that's the crux of it. Maybe Lir is untrustworthy, maybe she's lying to him, but he damn near likes her. She's clever, and pretty, and a good cook, and lord only knows how long it's been since his shop looked so clean. He covers his face with his hands, groaning. Would it really be so bad to keep her around?

Yes, because if she got killed, he'd never forgive himself.

Dawn comes with no rest in sight for him. He listens to Lir moving around next door before she heads downstairs, and he stares at the ceiling until the scents of coffee and bacon draw him out of his bed. Shrugging into a pair of sweatpants and deciding to forego a shirt, he follows her, and finds her in the kitchen, humming a little tune as she plates a mountain of scrambled eggs.

A wave of nostalgia washes over him—which is weird, because this is the first morning he's woken up to a woman in his shop, let alone one making him breakfast. The dress she wore yesterday has been traded in for a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt, and Dante swallows, admiring how good she looks in normal clothes. There is something that tugs at his heart, too, the smell of the eggs reminding him of his childhood, the little hum making him embarrassed by how much he actually likes it.

"Good morning!" she says brightly, turning and carrying plates to the table. "Did you sleep well?"

He walks to the coffee machine and pours himself a cup of black. "Are you a morning person?" he asks, trying to sound gruff.

"Have to be where I come from." Dante frowns as he blows on the mug, carrying the sugar bowl to the table before settling on a chair. He wonders what exactly that means as she finishes plating the bacon and popping toast from the toaster, then takes the seat across from him.

"How about you?" he asks.

"Hm?" Lir glances up as she begins buttering a slice of toast.

"You sleep okay?"

She smiles to herself as he helps himself to food. "Yes and no. I was tired from the cleaning but sleeping in a city is . . . different. Odd to have so many lights and noises outside my window."

"It's quiet where you live?" He watches her closely, looking for any signs of deception.

But there are none. She tilts her head, taking a bite of her toast and chewing it thoughtfully, and he's struck by the utterly ridiculous urge to tuck the strands of hair at her cheek behind her ear. "I suppose. My home is . . . was on the coast, near the mountains. So there were noises, like rain and the ocean and wildlife, but the city is much louder, more . . . chaotic?"

"Was."

"Hm?"

"You said," he muses, "that your home was on the coast."

Her smile falters. "Well, yes. I told you yesterday that I cannot return there. When I was sent here, it was permanent. Even if you had . . . if we had been married, I wouldn't have been allowed back. Because we're not, I couldn't go home, even if I wanted to. So, was."

"They just chucked you out like that?" he asks.

Lir stiffens for a moment, but then her smile returns as she stands. "Want more coffee?" she asks, breezing back towards the sink and turning on the water to rinse the pan on the stove.

"No, I—"

"After I clean up here I'll head out," she says over him, her voice tight but still dripping in sweetness. "I have a bit of money, so I'll stay at a hotel so I won't be in your hair. I can start looking for a job or something this afternoon."

He rubs his face harshly, cursing under his breath. It's not her fault that she's here, and he doubts she knows anything about surviving outside of whatever compound raised her to be a broodmare for him. "Look," he says, sharper than he intends, "just stay here until Lady calls. Then we'll figure out what to do."

She hesitates before turning off the water. "That's very kind of you."

"Yeah. Well." Not sure what to say, he drains his mug, and Lir is right there with the coffee pot to refill it. He watches her move around the kitchen before going back to his meal, munching thoughtfully. "Won't be all bad, I guess," he says to himself.

After breakfast, Dante starts to wonder. Usually he's not up this early, and the rest of the morning stretches on without much to do. Typically he'd spend the first hour or so of his day in the bathroom, then scavenge around for leftovers before settling in for his afternoon nap. But Lir wanders the shop, hands behind her back as she examines each of his weapons on the wall, making him feel uncomfortable as he sits at his desk and watches her.

She pauses in front of a set of twin scimitars, leaning in to peer curiously at the heads etched into the pommels. "Where do these things come from?" she asks, not turning around, and he frowns.

"Devils," he answers. Lir goes very still, making him laugh. "Relax, they're harmless now. Sometimes, when there's a particularly strong demon, they'll lend me their strength as a weapon I can use. Those two," he stands and makes his way over to her, placing his hand against the small of her back, "are Agni and Rudra. I got them decades ago. Handy guys, if a bit chatty sometimes."

"Is that what you were doing last night?" she asks, leaning in closer to look at the swords. "Fighting devils?"

"No, I, uh . . ." Embarrassed, he clears his throat. "I went to see someone."

"Well, we know it wasn't a girl," one of the swords says, and Lir jumps in surprise, backing up into him.

"Unless he was paying!" the other laughs.

Lir spins on him, her mouth dropped open. "They talked!"

"I told you." To the twins, he mutters, "Zip it."

"But we have a guest!" Agni cries.

"Yes, a guest," Rudra agrees. "We must entertain her."

"How should we do that?"

"Well, we could—"

"I said zip it!" Dante barks. Thankfully they fall silent, though there's an air of reproach, and he returns his attention to Lir. "Like I said, they get chatty. You okay?"

She laughs as she nods. "Yes. It was just a surprise."

Dante snorts, but then he realizes his hand is still on her back and quickly snatches it away. "You can, uh, put the TV on if you want. Or use the computer? Patty set one up a while ago, over there," he says, nodding to where the couch and coffee table are, making a little sitting area. 

Lir nods. "Okay. I don't want to bother you while you're working though."

There is a round of laughter from the two swords on the wall, and Dante growls until they stop abruptly. "No trouble at all," he says through his teeth.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 243: Happy New Year

Previously on BnHA: The government was all “shit what are we going to do about Shigaraki Tomura and his Actual Fucking Army of villains, oh I know, why don’t we draft some child soldiers” and so they brought back internships and made them mandatory. Class 1-A had the Christmas party to end all Christmas parties, featuring 20 unique custom-tailored Santa costumes, enough chicken to feed Tomura’s entire Actual Fucking Army, and one (1) giant sword that somehow made its way into the hands of Eri, First of Her Name. Tidings of comfort and joy were had by all, and to cap things off, Shouto invited Bakugou (who by the way was having a lot of thoughts about how Best Jeanist asked him to reveal his new hero name the next time they met, because Horikoshi knows what kind of angst I like) and Deku to come intern with him at the motherfucking Endeavor Hero Agency and make everyone’s OT3 dreams come true.

Today on BnHA: Deku visits his mom on New Year’s Eve and the two of them ball out at the Make Me Cry Olympics. There is a whole plotline all about Hawks getting coffee, and I’m trying to figure out if it’s really just coffee or if THE ENTIRE SERIES SECRETLY HINGES ON THIS ONE SCENE omg. The next day at the Endeavor Hero Agency, Endeavor is all, “welcome! fuck you,” which may or may not be setting the tone for this whole arc. There’s a brief flashback to All Might congratulating his sons on their internship and saying foreshadowing things like “your new quirks probably won’t go fucking apeshit again” and “you’re a lot like Endeavor, this internship will be good for you!” Back in the present, Endeavor dramatically leaps over a railing and blasts off to go fight Monk Gyatso with the disaster trio hot on his heels. Hawks then shows up out of nowhere and the text is literally all, “WHAT’S HAWKS DOING HERE?” and seriously though. What are any of us even doing here. This arc has only just started and I already have no idea what’s going on and I fucking love it.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

loooool

is she going to be all right

-- also! WE’RE GOING TO SEE THE PARENTS AGAIN HOMG YES. HORIKOSHI YOU’RE ON FIRE WEEK AFTER WEEK YOU MAD DOG

(ETA: literally the only way he could end his streak was by going on fucking hiatus. son of a.)

oh shit I forgot that they had the cover and a color page this week! this is great

by the light (ba da dum ba da dum) of the silvery moon (ba da dum ba da dum) I want to spoon -- holy shit, what. do you ever look up the lyrics to a song you vaguely remember from your childhood twenty-five years later in order to make a bizarre joke in a manga recap and you’re like “!!?!?” lol what the fuck. this shit is from 1909. old timey pervs

anyways this may be my favorite Jump cover ever. colors are amazing, art is super cute, it’s the whole package. Aoyama and Iida are killing me. I need that Iida ball in real life, I would seriously pay real money

and now the color spread!

where can I buy that U.A. hoodie. I’m not kidding, I need it in my life. the U.A. logo is great because it doesn’t scream “LOOK AT ME I’M AN ANIME FAN” unless the other person also watches said anime, in which case that’s awesome because the two of you can become best friends and bond over how you’re both nerds with impeccable taste

Kacchan out here holding a fucking root beer like we don’t all know the truth. yeah tough guy you go to bed at eight-thirty and you’re third in your class at the top high school in Japan. but you keep on trying to preserve that image. also this kid is singlehandedly making wifebeaters high fashion I swear to god. it’s a talent

Kirishima looks so good in v-neck shirts yes you go Kiri!

Mina is here!! Mina is part of the main character squad now, everyone! that’s right!! Iida Tenya was booted out after he refused to partake in this photo shoot due to moral outrage over the fact that they’re shooting this at what appears to be a crime scene. a vacuum cleaner was murdered in cold blood omg

Ochako not smiling is such an unusual look for her (and Mina and Kirishima too for that matter) but holy shit. I like it

TODOROKI I’M TRYING TO REACH THROUGH THE COMPUTER SCREEN AND UNBUTTON YOUR TOP BUTTON. HOLY SHIT HOW CAN YOU EVEN BREATHE. RELAX

so the new character book is out October 4, eh? I think we knew this already, but maybe this time the date will actually stick in my mind. anyways, so doing the math, that leaves Kacchan three more chapters (including this one) to reveal his hero name. boy you have a deadline get to work!

YESSSSSSSSSSS

MY NEW YEAR’S ARC MAY NOT BE HAPPENING, BUT AT LEAST WE STILL GET TO SEE THEM RING IN 2217 HOORAY

damn that’s a lot of narration in the first panel

“while accompanied by guards” oh shit. and yet, I get it. I like how they refer to it as “the chain of events that led us to move into the dorms” rather than “that time Bakugou got fucking kidnapped.” they are not letting that happen again. good

IZUMAMA YESSSS

at least he’s being open with her about it! come on Inko, push through this. he’s already got 240 other things he’s still not telling you, don’t give him any more reason to keep being secretive

oh my god now Deku is like “anyways do you remember Eri?” and he’s reaching into his pocket now, holy shit?? WHATEVER HE’S PULLING OUT IS GOING TO BE SO FUCKING CUTE, ISN’T IT

oH MY GOD!!!!!

THIS SON OF A BITCH IS JUST GONNA KEEP ON AMASSING A COLLECTION OF ADORABLE AND HILARIOUS LITTLE KID LETTERS, ISN’T HE. LISTEN HERE DEKU YOU MOTHERFUCKER!! THAT PIC OF “MISTER DEKU” IS -- I’M -- !!!!

“I was hardly able to do anything for her” ?? you SAVED HER LIFE?? you BODYSLAMMED OVERHAUL INTO THE GROUND?? YOU GOT US ALL OUT OF THAT ACCURSED BASEMENT? listen here you modest little shit you need to stop doing this. you even taught her the true meaning of quirks for crying out loud. you are the actual best

god the way he is staring at this letter is giving me too many feels for a Thursday afternoon. these are like Saturday night feels. this manga never goes easy on me

same Inko same

oh my god now Inko is launching into a speech about Deku’s sad childhood I can’t with this, MA’AM PLEASE

“covered in bruises” oh my problematic ship. oh this nuanced manga with its intricate layers of feels. this is the lasagna of mangas

hello page 3 is just one big assault on all my emotions and I would like to report this to someone help I am being besieged

oh my fucking god Midoriya family. I’m trying to process all of this and just!!

like. she’s known all this time how big his heart is and that he doesn’t care about himself and just wants to protect others. but for the longest time he was powerless to do it. but still he kept dreaming and she kept looking on waiting for that day he’d finally give up, ready for his heart to break, bracing herself. and then this miracle happened and he got a quirk and all his hopes came true and he got to go to his dream school, and now he’s training to become a hero just like he always wanted

and everything special she always saw about her boy is shining so brightly now, and everyone can see it, and he’s become so strong. but also he’s growing up so fast. he’s gone from being someone she had to protect to someone who’s strong enough to protect not only her, but everyone. strong enough to carry the world on his shoulders

just. can you even imagine. how much pride she must feel, in addition to the relief she’s expressing now. but also the loneliness of knowing she can’t hold on to her baby boy forever and he’s on the verge of going out into the world and leaving her. in fact he basically already has. anyways I came here today for some Three Musketeers antics and now I’m sitting her with Izumama empty nest feels, what is this

-- yo, what?? he’s starting the internship on New Year’s Fucking Day? U.A. doesn’t fuck around, goddamn

(ETA: seriously, no rest for the weary here. both Endeavor and Hawks are as busy as ever too. poor Hawks, who never wanted to be a hero to begin with, spent New Year’s Eve undercover trying to drown his sorrows in sugary coffee. of course, Jeanist is spending his New Year’s either in hiding or dead, so.)

anyways so he’s bidding his mom goodbye and getting onto a bus, and he’s all bundled up in a scarf but can’t be assed to wear a jacket, apparently. whatever Deku

AHHHH WHAT IS THIS NOW

AND OH MY GOD LOOK WHERE HE IS

THE LEAGUE OF PLIFF’S HEADQUARTERS AT THE OL’ OVERLOOK HOTEL. watch out for the elevators. Toga probably really likes them though

“where did you run off to number 2” um, he’s still a top ranked pro hero? what, do they just expect him to never do his job ever again? even if they think he’s on their side, they must realize that he needs to maintain his so-called cover

anyways, fucking Slidin’ Go is back, guys. when is someone going to punch this slippery bitch in the face

wow he’s seriously chewing Hawks out for flying off without permission. can someone please just deck this mouthbreather already

oh my god

this motherfucker really truly believes he is Hawks’s senpai. imagine having the same power as a fucking banana peel, and being so deluded you actually think you outrank a double agent of indispensable value, who also just so happens to be Dabi’s best friend, and oh yes, THE NUMBER TWO FUCKING HERO. I don’t even know where to begin with you, Slidin’ Go

oh snap but he’s immediately being called out on his BS lol this is great

twenty microdevices?? holy shit. that’s gonna make it really difficult for him to actually report back to the heroes

maybe if the PSC gives him twenty of their own little spy cams. then the only challenge is for him to try and remember which are which

lmao look at this little metaphorical drawing

isn’t this the Hyrule Castle level from Breath of the Wild

anyways don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here trying to figure out if there’s a double meaning to these two panels

is Skeptic just really bad at making small talk, or is there something here that I’m totally missing?? did he witness something during Hawks’s coffee run?

(ETA: this seriously reads to me as some kind of coded threat, but it makes no sense given the rest of the conversation. he goes on and on about how useful Hawks will be in helping them spy on the heroes, but then calls attention to him sneaking out to buy a single can of coffee. in conclusion I am probably overthinking this way too much, but it’s odd. maybe he really is just trying to be nice and coming off as weird and creepy.)

now we’re flashing back to Hawks’s last report to the PSC

if this is after he met up with Dabi then why does he still have the bag? WHEN WILL THIS STOP HAUNTING ME. I’M SO TIRED OF WAKING UP AT NIGHT IN A COLD SWEAT ONLY TO SEE HAWK’S BACKPACK STANDING THERE RIGHT NEXT TO MY BED, WATCHING

-- SDLKGHSLDKHFL

lmao this scared the shit out of me. Enji what the fuck

yesssss it’s mah boisssss

wow, he’s pretty weirdly enthused about the whole thing, huh? I expected him to bitch about it more. since Shouto basically offered his friends the gig all on his own without any consultation whatsoever. that’s called nepotism Shouto but it’s okay I forgive you

anyways. so are the Endeavor offices located in THE FUTURE. or what. is this Epcot

DKFJWELKFJL

LOL THAT’S MORE LIKE IT. FOR A MOMENT I THOUGHT WE HAD SLIPPED INTO SOME WEIRD ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

hahaha exactly

well I’m glad I’m not going crazy, at any rate. anyways though, Endeavor trying his best to be a good dad and caving in to his son’s ridiculous demands because he’s trying to make up for TWO DECADES OF BEING COMPLETE GARBAGE is pleasing to me as always. deal with it Endeav

HE SAID DEAL WITH IT!!

oh my god Katsuki is saying something holy shit, the next few panels will set the stage for what could be the sleeper hit character dynamic of the year. ghghkghhhhhh

( ⁰ o ⁰ )

oh my god

(ETA: Katsuki I have written whole essays about how perceptive you are and then you just. sob. now that he’s finally starting to ease up on the whole Angry Asshole thing, his inner dumbass is really shining through.)

YES HE IS AND THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO, YOUR BOURGEOIS SON HAS FALLEN IN WITH THIS CHURLISH ROUGHNECK FROM THE HOOD, DIE MAD ABOUT IT!!

lmaooo

that mental image omfg. HE WILL PUT UP WITH THIS SUFFERING IN ORDER TO GET CLOSER TO HIS GOAL. what a sacrifice. the pros outweighed the cons. it’s logic. I can’t, I

and Endeavor being so fucking mad that Shouto picked this asshole to be his new best friend sob. YOU CAN’T STOP THEIR BROMANCE IT IS UNFOLDING BEFORE YOUR VERY EYES

anyways I love everything and I’m all set for the mentoring to begin. bring it onnnn

so now Deku is being surprisingly earnest and thanking Endeavor for accepting them into his agency

and we’re getting our first glimpse of Deku’s Upgraded Feelings About Endeavor oooooh juicy

Deku is so good at seeing into people’s hearts. and so forgiving. we already knew he was -- the inciting event that led to the whole fucking series wouldn’t have even happened if he wasn’t -- but I’m honestly still so impressed every time I see it

(ETA: and also, this means that he still went and told him off during the sports festival even though he was scared of him. kid is the fucking role model to end all role models.)

also I’m already sensing that this chapter (and indeed, this entire arc) is going to prompt more Discourse up in the ol’ fandom. that’s going to be fun. anyways, I’ve already essayed more than once regarding Endeavor’s redemption arc, so I’m not going to spend too much time hashing out the same old points. but basically my stance is I’m fine with it. I think it’s good to show that people can change no matter how far they’ve gone down the wrong path. it may not be easy, but if they’re genuinely remorseful, and if the desire is there, then why not? I’m not gonna get up in arms because someone is trying to become a better person. the alternative is that they stay terrible, and that doesn’t help anyone

anyway, so now we’re flashing back to what appears to be a conversation with All Might, and oh my god

but you guys. listen. Katsuki is there, again. they’re not even discussing OFA this time and he’s still there! elbowed his way into this mentorship like the determined little shit he is, and now he’s not leaving and you all just have to deal with it. oh my god it’s everything I ever wanted, someone please pinch me is this real??

lol and now they are discussing OFA, but that’s okay. it’s only natural that would also be on the agenda

really, All Might?

you consider that “just fine”? that bloop? just as planned?? I know you love your son, but maybe consider raising the bar for him just a little bit. he is capable of so much more, and now of all times is not the time to go easy on him

and he’s still talking about the SIXQUIRKS as though unlocking more of them right now would be a bad thing. I really think this is the wrong approach. maybe I just want to see Deku go buck wild and fucking lose it though, idk

Katsuki has no patience for this either

“I don’t doubt it.” please Deku we’re not worthy of you and your wholesomeness. and he’s so sincere, too?? how does Kacchan continuously absorb all of this shameless admiration and affection day after day, week after week. how is he not humbled by it

anyways time to shut up about that though because All Might is now mentoring Bakugou directly and this requires my full fucking attention

yessss let the character development commence! I’m so excited ddhkshl

and now we’re back in the present and the conversation is taking a very interesting turn!

YES! HE DID! DO YOU REMEMBER? YOU WEREN’T REALLY PAYING ATTENTION BEFORE BECAUSE YOU WERE STILL IN ASSHOLE MODE. what do you have to say about it now?

...

mysterious

what

(ETA: “is he always like this?”)

lol what

hahaha. this arc is off to a fucking hysterical start

oh snap y’all look at this

100% chance Deku is right fucking behind him lol. probably they all are

YEP

BITCH, WHO THE FUCK DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DEALING WITH. YOU THOUGHT THESE WERE JUST ANY OLD INTERNS?? FUCK YOU, THESE ARE PREMIUM, CLUB-LEVEL, OCEAN VIEW INTERNS, YOU UNAPPRECIATIVE LOUT. YOU INGRATE

lol but he’s not missing a beat though, and he’s ordering them to stay behind and watch him oh shit. what is even going on

now we’re cutting to some fucking yogi bobbing around town in a lotus position screaming about a divine revelation he received from fucking space. okay

AHHH WHAT

HAWKS IS ALREADY GETTING IN ON THE ACTION, JESUS CHRIST. DOES THIS FUCKER EVER PUT ON THE BRAKES?? THIS ARC IS LIKE TWELVE DIFFERENT PLOTLINES INTERSECTING ALL AT ONCE AND I CAN BARELY KEEP UP. THIS SHIT IS A TRAINWRECK WAITING TO HAPPEN AND I’M STANDING HERE MESMERIZED

BUT!!!

cue Celine Dion’s “All by Myself” while I fall down dramatically nooooo. the lord giveth and he taketh away. YOU OPENED A DOOR AND CLOSED THE WINDOW YOU BASTARD sob why

well shit. and that means that Katsuki has only one chapter left to reveal his hero name, too. (ETA: keeping track of the important things here lol.) and somehow I don’t see that happening unless the focus of the next chapter takes a very dramatic shift, since we seem to be launching into full plot mode before any of us even have our seatbelts on. not that I’m complaining about that because sdkljk

anyways. see y’all in two weeks I guess. the My Plots Academia arc sure is off to a crazy fucking start

[countless-dreamsss]

Partners For Life: The Past

Summary: So I wrote this bc there was a question on my Quiz in my criminal justice class and what were the odds that their names were going to be Harry and Joey? Don't believe me?

Anyways, this is the first chapter of this story, meaning Harry and Joe are both in their early twenties. There's no Flash, there's no Iris, there's no Eobard, this is literally all mine.

Warnings:Mild profanity

Primary pair: Harry Wells x Joe West

Canon/Head:Headcanon

      *if you see any mistakes please let me know*

Harry threw his cigarette to the ground, crushing under the black sole of his boot as his tongue picked up the taste of freshly burnt tobacco from his tongue. He let out a heavy sigh. He leaned his head back against the brick wall behind him.

    “You’re late.” He said, lifting his sleeve and looking down to his watch as a dark shadow jumped down onto the dumpster, a metallic sound echoed through the alley.

    “It’s not really easy to sneak out of the house when your parents want to know what you’re doing every second of the day.” Joe said, jumping down and landing gracefully onto the wet asphalt.

    “Well then, I’m glad I’m important.” Harry smirked. Joe wiped his hands off as he approached the other male. “How was dinner?” He asked, his blue eyes meeting Joe’s.

     “Would’ve been better if you came.” Joe said with a smile.

     “That’s what she said.” Harry joked. Joe shook his head at the stupid joke before removing the bag he had on his back.  “I brought you some.” He said, taking out a container filled with lasagna.

    “Awh, you do care.” Harry said. Joe rolled his eyes. He waved his hand. “Hold onto it for now, please."

    “What did you make this time?” Joe asked, putting the food back into the bag.

    “Let’s go to our spot, and we’ll discuss it there, but I think you’ll like it.” Harry smiled. He placed an arm around Joe as they walked over to his truck.

    “Harry, how do you have such an expensive car?” Joe asked curiously as they both got into the vehicle. Harry simply shrugged.

    “I have my ways of acquiring the things I need.” Harry responded.

     The drive to their ‘spot’ was fairly long, being that it was across the city. Harry had an arm out the window, another cigarette in his hand. Joe was playing with the radio until he found a station that fit his mood.

    “How are your parents?” Joe asked.

    “Still alive.” Harry said. “Harry, I don’t understand why you don’t ju-”

    “Joe, we’re not talking about this agai-"

    “They still love you.”

    “No.” Harry said.

    "I love you." Joe said, although it sounded more like a question. The smile that on Harry's face made Joe feel at ease. To himself, Joe tried to guess the infinite possibilities of what Harry had in store. What could he possibly be hiding back at the place that Harry couldn't simply tell him on the way in the car. Joe chewed on his bottom lip as his hand reached for Harry's. "It'll be okay." Joe said. "I'm sure it will be." A chuckle that sounded more like a scoff left Harry's lips.

    "We'll see." Harry said. Joe's head turned to the window, watching all the people and buildings as they drove by.

    "I love you too." He said.

     Their hangout place was an abandoned building in the middle of the city. At 10 stories high, an open area with small offices and bathrooms scattered about every level this building was perfect for them. Harry, being very tech savvy and Joe with his creative ideas cleared out one of the higher floors of the building and did as they pleased with it. It was kind of like a studio apartment, but with many rooms. The kitchen was fully operable, the both of them had installed a dryer and washing machine in the bathroom. Harry had everything he needed here. He had no reason to go home.

    "Here.” Harry said, tossing over a device towards Joe. Quick with his hands, Joe caught it right before it could slip through his fingers.

     "What’s this?” Joe asked, looking down at it.

     “That, my good sir, is an earbud.” Harry said, putting one of his own into his own ear. “Put it in.” He said. Joe did as told as he put the food he had brought into the microwave for Harry. “Can you hear me?” He asked.

    “Yeah, crystal clear.” Joe said, amazed by how tiny the earbud was. “How did you-”

    “Not important.” Harry said as he took a seat at his desk.

    “What are we going to do with these?” Joe asked, walking over to Harry. Joe placed his hands on the older male’s shoulders and squeezed them as he caught a glimpse at the screen in front of them.

    “We are going to commit what police call theft .” Harry said with a grin. He took off his glasses and chewed on the end of one of his temples. “I have it all planned out, and if I’m quite certain, it’s not really a robbery, just petty theft.” He corrected himself.

     “We?” Joe asked. “You know my father is a cop.” He reminded Harry. Harry nodded, his devilish grin growing wider.

    “I’m well aware of your father’s occupation.” Harry responded. Joe shook his head, letting out a sigh of disapproval. “And since when has that ever stopped you before? This isn’t our first time.” He said.

    “I’m assuming these,” Joe said, holding the earpiece in his hand, “are going to help us communicate.” Joe said. Harry nodded.

    “Exactly. I will be in your ear, and at the same time I will be the one snatching what we need while you keep the store clerk occupied.” Harry said.

    “That’s larceny, Harry.” He put an emphasis on his partner’s name.

    “That’s not the point, Joe.” Harry copied Joe's tone before turning his chair around. “We’re going to do this,” he said standing up, putting a hand on Joe’s face, “and you’re going to help me.” Harry leaned forward and placed a kiss on Joe’s lips before walking over to the beeping microwave.

    “Harry, how exactly are we going to pull this off?” Joe asked. His eyes scanned the computer screen that was full of blueprints of the building and Harry’s notes. “What if we get caught?”

    “I have it all under control, Joe. There’s nothing to worry about.” He said.

    “No." Joe shook his head. "What if we get caught?" Joe repeated, turning to catch a glimpse of Harry with a mouthful of lasagna in his mouth.

    “We won’t.” Harry managed to say as he chewed, “if we do,” he swallowed before running his tongue over his lips, “we shoot.”

    “We shoot?” Joe’s eyes widened. “No the hell we’re not."

    "Uhm, yes the fuck we are." Harry nodded.

    "Har-"

    "Listen," Harry said, placing the food down on the desk once he had stepped closer to Joe. "I'm well aware that your father is a cop, but I have this under control. I promise. I just need you to trust me on this." The two looked into each other's eyes. Harry saw fear while Joe saw a sense of uncertainty. The younger male sighed before running a thumb across the corner of Harry's lips.

    "No killing." Joe said. Harry put his hands on his hips as he knew those words were going to come out of his mouth. "No weapons either." He said, and Harry's head shot up.

    "That's not safe at all." Harry responded. “If we get caught-"

    “You said we wouldn’t.”

    “Joseph!” Harry took in a deep breath before exhaling. “Fine. Fine, no weapons.”

    “Promise?”

    “I promise.” Harry pulled Joe into his arms. The two held each other tight. Joe sighed before resting his forehead on Harry’s. “It’s going to be okay.” Harry kissed the side of Joe’s head. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

    Just hours before leaving, Harry explained his plan thoroughly to Joe, multiple times. Joe had easily picked up everything that Harry had put down. Repeatedly, he went step by step. He only had one concern: the weapons. Harry having a stash as big as he did for a 21 year-old, it was obvious to Joe where all of Harry’s money was going. Aside from going through their plan, Harry had also made Joe memorize the layout of the convenience store.

    “I’m going to have the truck out, at pump number fou-” Harry stared at Joe who was staring at Harry’s wall of weapons. He rolled his eyes before throwing a pencil at the younger male.“Joe-”

    “Babe, I heard you the first time you said it. I heard it the fifth time you said it, and now I’m hearing it again.” He responded. “How about you and I go there together, hm?” He recommended. “That way, I’ll have a feel of the store, and you can get a better idea of what you need.” Joe said.

    “We don’t need to go there, Joe. We’ve been there hundreds of times. If you know it, then explain it to me.” Harry said. Joe groaned as he stood up and walked over to Harry’s planning board.

    “So, I’m going to walk in when it seems the most empty, correct?” Joe asked. Harry nodded. “Then, I’m gonna ask where the bathroom is, once I'm there, I’m gonna clog the toilets and bring him in. That gives us at least 2 minutes for you to get what we need and leave.” Joe said.

    “And..?” Harry asked, crossing his arms against his chest.

    “And what?”

    “Precautions, you have to talk about precautions.” Harry said.

    “Fine. We both have to be wearing our gloves at all times. Can’t leave any footprints behind, meaning no dirty shoes, uhm...I have to stall the clerk as long as possible to keep him away from the cash register, and no guns.” Joe said, mumbling the last bit of information.

    “What was the last part?” Harry asked.

    “Keep clerk from the register.” Joe lied. “Oh also- if they corner us, split up and meet back up at the old flour mill on the edge of town.

    “Alright.” Harry nodded. Joe clicked his tongue against his teeth before returning to his seat.

    “How exactly are you going to break into the register?” Joe asked. Harry walked over to his desk before throwing a makeshift key into Joe’s lap.

    “With that.” Harry said. “This key, isn’t like other keys. The front of the key is made of what people call, memory metal, when heated, it’ll change shape, but once back in the right temperature it’ll be back to it’s normal form.” Harry explained. “I’m going to torch it for long enough that it’s malleable, but not melting. Once the consistency is where I want it. I’m going to put it in this,” he said as he held up a tiny tin can that was the size of a tic tac box. Joe held his hand out, returning the key to Harry who placed it into the box and back on his desk. “It should, fit right in, take the shape of the lock and then unlock the register.” He said.

    “What if it doesn’t work?” Joe asked, his leg shaking.

    “I’ll just break open the cash register. I’ll have my backpack with me.” Harry assured him, knowing his backpack literally had anything you could ever possibly need inside of it. Joe nodded silently. Harry squatted down in front of Joe and put his hands on his shoulders. “Look at me.”

    “Yes, Harry?”

    “It’s going to be okay.” He said.

    “Something just feel off.” Joe responded. Harry handed Joe keys to the truck.

    “Don’t worry. I already covered our license plates. Go start up the car, I just have to grab a few things and I’ll be down soon, alright? You go on your motorcycle, we’ll meet up there.” Harry watched as Joe grabbed his bag and his helmet before leaving the office floor. He hung his head as he let out a sigh before standing up. Harry walked over to his desk and took the M9 from his desk drawer and tucked it under his shirt against his back. To accompany the pistol, he placed two sets of magazines inside his jacket then grabbed the key, a mask and headed downstairs.

    Joe had taken his motorcycle, whereas Harry took a different vehicle, a much older model sedan. They met up a couple of blocks down before deciding to go to the store. Joe kept his helmet on until he had entered the Harry’s run-down car.

    “What are you-” Joe asked as he saw a flame torch. He sighed, before remembering. “The key?”

    “Yes, sir.”

    “Do you have the earpiece in?” Harry asked looking over to Joe.

    “I do.” Joe turned his head to the side and tapped on it gently with his finger. He let out a sigh before turning towards Harry. “So, do you really think this is going to work?” Joe asked, tucking the helmet in his side.

    “Of course,” Harry said staring at the flames, “why wouldn’t it?”

    “I’m telling you, Harry. Something feels off.”

    “Joe, since we were in high school, we have done this what- 37 times? It’s been 3 years. How is this any different than the time from before?” Harry asked. Joe’s attention would switch back and forth between Harry and the flame. His head tilted a little, watching as the older was so captivated by it. Once he saw a grin pull at Harry’s lips, he knew he was caught. “Stop staring.” Harry said. Joe shook his head as he laughed. “I can’t help it, you look so concentrated.”

    “I’m not trying to burn my fingers.”

    “You’ve never worried about getting hurt before.”

    “Burns and cuts are two different types of pain, Joe. There’s a reason why God made hell with fire, not with razor blades and lemon juice.” Harry said. Joe opened his mouth to speak, but kept quiet. “Go to the gas station, I’ll follow soon.”

    “See you there.” Joe put his helmet back on before hopping on to his bike and driving away.

     Once entering the gas station, Joe had simply lifted the visor of his helmet and nothing more. He glanced around the store before walking up to the checkout counter. He eyed down the cashier, who couldn’t be older than 25. Name, Martin. Not much shorter than Joe, but his build was rather lean. Martin’s hazel eyes greeted Joe’s as his lips were forced into a smile.

    “Hey, is there anything I can help you with?” He asked. Martin’s attention had quickly shifted over to the helmet and the rest of Joe’s attire. “Motorcycle? Seems like a good night to drive one. Mine is actually out back. ” He said as he leaned forward onto the counter, using his elbows for support.

    “This kid talks too much.” Harry said into Joe’s ear.

     “It is actually.” Joe nodded, returning the kind tone before patting on his helmet to ignore Harry. “Not too bad to feel the summer night breeze.” He said, holding onto the straps of his backpack.

    “I just might after closing shop.” Martin responded. “It’s never too late for a nice long drive.”

    “Joseph,” Harry said into his ear, “get your ass into that bathroom right now.” Joe ignored him. “We can’t risk anyone else approaching the store, Joe.”

    “You should. It’s a great way to clear your head after a long day.” Joe said, smiling behind the helmet, but that smiley quickly changed into a pout when he realized he would be the reason for that long ride.

    “I swear to God, Joe, if you mess this up.” Harry huffed.

    “Yup, fifteen hours.” Martin nodded, his forced smile had grown rather soft.

    “Joe, are you really making conversation with the boy whose running the store we’re about to rob?” Harry sighed. “Hurry up and ask for the bathroom.” Harry’s jealousy could be felt from where Joe was standing. Joe let out a slight scoff, rolling his eyes under the helmet.

    “Uhm,” Joe said, remembering the task at hand, “can I use the bathroom?” He asked.

    “Sure,” Martin said. “In the far left corner.”

    “Thanks.” Joe said.

    “Thanks.” Harry mocked. Joe let out a heavy sigh as he followed the instructions to the bathroom. Martin watched as Joe disappeared behind the white door. “Do you have the tools?” Harry asked.

    “You know I do.” Joe said, quickly taking off his backpack and getting to work. Instead of clogging the toilet Joe simply lied saying there was a major leak. Harry burned the key for a little longer as he was parked outside the store. His eyes peered through the glass, seeing what was going on inside. He watched as Joe brought Martin into the bathroom.

    “Babe, I need you to keep him occupied.” Harry said as he placed the key into the tin can, put on his mask, and exited the car. Harry had taken this extra time to fill up fuel in both of their vehicles. He also, drenched a trail from one pump to the next, just in case things got hasty.

    “Already taken care of.” Joe grumbled as he held Martin’s unconscious body in his arms.

    “Where is he?” Harry asked as he entered the store, his breathing becoming heavier because of the mask. His eyes rolled at the sound of the bell that rang whenever someone stepped in. Harry was quick to make his way to the safe behind the register. Harry could hear some rustling and grunts on Joe’s end, then he heard a loud thud. “Joe?”

    “Unconscious.” Joe said as he stared down at Martin’s body. He picked him up and sat him down into a stall. Joe had made sure that Martin was in fact completely unconscious before exiting the bathroom and walking around the store. Joe took whatever looked appetizing to him and stuffed it in his backpack.

    “There we go.” Harry said as he inserted his key into the cash register. His ocean eyes grinned happily at the cash in front of him, and he wasted no time in retrieving it. Once the register was empty, Harry had turned his attention to the safe. He used a decoder to figure out the code for the safe. He smiled as the safe practically invited Harry’s desperate hands into the safe. He stuffed all he could into his bag before closing it up. And just as Joe was going to open up a bag of chips, he saw a couple of police cars pull up to the front of the store.

    “Fuck.” Joe quickly put back the bag of chips and ran for the bathroom. “Harry, we’re in trouble.”

    “Why what’s the problem, Joe?”

    “T-There’s…” Joe stammered.

    “There’s what?”

    “There’s cops outside.”

    “Joseph, if you’re fucking with me, I swear to Go-” The sound of the door opening cut him off. Harry could hear the metal cuffs hit against their belts. “How many?” He asked. Joe had switched the light off in the bathroom before pushing the door slowly, his eyes scanning the store. “Usually there’s 2 a car.”

    “I didn’t fucking ask for an estimate. I asked how many.” Harry scolded as he inched closer to the end of the register.

    “There’s 4, okay?” Joe watched as each one walked by. “I think I know them.”

    “Names?” Harry asked.

    “U-Uhm...Lee, Robinson, Michaels, and-” Joe’s heart dropped when he saw the last officer. “Dad…”

    “Dad?” Harry grumbled and rolled his eyes. “That’s fucking great.”

    “Yoohoo…” Officer Michaels said. “Anyone here?” He asked. The other three began to walk around, see if anything was out of the ordinary.

    “You think they forgot to close shop?” Officer West asked, looking in the direction of the bathroom. Joe’s eyes went wide immediately.

    “Oh shit. Oh fuck, H, we gotta go. We gotta go. We have to fucking-” Joe started to panic. "I think one of them saw me.” Joe immediately closed the door, he wasn’t going to risk getting caught by his father. His erratic breathing fogged up the helmet, forcing him to lift his visor. Harry listened to his hysterical partner as he tried to find the quickest and quietest way to get out of the store. With his back against the register, he used the glass walls of the store as his eyes. The police officers roamed the aisles in a pattern, gathering their desired carbs and fats for the night like sharks seeking for prey as they waited for the proper help.

    “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Officer Lee said as they stood outside of the bathroom door. Joe felt as if he was as good as dead.

    “Joe.” Harry warned.

    “I f-fucking heard!” He said as he stuffed himself into the same stall as Martin. Hearing the footsteps come closer to the door, Joe was not taking any chances. He had picked up Martin’s body and cradled him in his arms as he squatted upon the toilet. He kept a hand over Martin’s mouth as if it were his breathing that wasn’t meant to be heard. He was agitated by the way Officer Lee had taken his precious time around the bathroom. Joe’s jaw clenched when the lights were switched on.

    “It’ll be okay, just stay quiet.” Harry said, his eyes continuing to follow the officers around. Harry slowly reached for his gun as he watched the one officer enter the bathroom. Joe took in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut like he was in a bad dream. Successfully retrieving the gun from his belt, Harry had it cocked and ready to shoot, he just needed the perfect moment of when. “You might hear a loud bang, Joe.” Harry whispered, “don’t yell.”  He said, aiming the barrel of the pistol at the reflection of one of the officers.

    “Screw this,” Officer West shook his head in irritation, “I’ll just leave a $20 and we’ll go.” He said, pulling out his wallet. Meanwhile, Joe was eager to gasp for air the moment he heard the door close behind Lee.

    “What are you talking about, Harry?” Joe asked.

    “We done here, West?” Officer Michaels managed to ask passed the two twinkies inside of his mouth.

    “Michaels,” West sighed. “What the hell did I just say? Get your shit and let’s go.” He said. Harry was eager for their presence to be gone. Harry pushed himself against the counter as he heard Joe’s father step towards his direction. He heard him put place the bill down then walk away. This was perfect. Harry didn’t have to shoot his gun, and there wouldn’t have to be any interaction with the cops, right?

    “Hey, about those two vehicles outside? Who do you think they belong to?” Officer Robinson asked.

    “We’ll just run them in the cars.” West said. “Not an issue.” Both vehicles being under Harry parents’ name, he wasn’t taking any chances.

    “Get ready to run.” Harry whispered.

    “Run? Are you fucking crazy?” Joe asked as he gently put down Martin.

    “Keep your fucking helmet on and listen to me.” He said. Harry waited until all four officers were outside the shop.

    “Slowly come out the bathroom, Joe.” Harry said. He secured his hand around the duffel and tightened the straps around them. Joe obeyed without a second thought. He crouched as he exited the bathroom, making his way over to Harry. “Listen, we got to be fast when we do this, okay?” Harry said.

    “Harry, what’s in your hand?” Joe asked, staring at the pistol.

    “Joe-”

    “We said no guns.” He said, his eyes still fixated on the pistol.

    “Joseph! We don’t have time. They’re going to try to search our plates. We have to go.”

    “Harry, we said no guns.” Joe repeated.

    “We’ll talk about it later, babe.” Harry said. “Please, Joe?” He begged. Joe looked between Harry and the pistol.”

    “We said no guns.” Joe repeated once again.

    “Fuck this.” Harry said. He grabbed Joe’s arm before he aimed at the windows and shot both of them. Harry moved fast, regardless of having to drag Joe over to his bike. The cops, already in their vehicles were taken by surprise at the sound of the gun shots, not to mention the two bodies that darted out of the building. Joe was the first to jump onto his bike and drive off whereas Harry threw the bag of money into the car. All four officers got out of their cars, their weapons drawn in Harry’s direction.

    “Drop the weapon, and come out with your hands up.” Officer Lee shouted.

    “Such a cliche line.” Harry scoffed. He shot at one of their tires, inflating it instantly, but with the one shot to them, four came right back at him. One piercing through the skin of his upper left arm.

    “Fuck!” Harry yelled as he hid behind the gas pump next to his car. He bit his lip

    “Harry, what happened?” Joe asked, listening to the commotion. “Get in the fucking car and drive.”

    “I know what I’m doing." Harry said. He clenched his jaw and took a quick look at his arm before over to the cops.

    “Don’t do something you might regret, son.” Officer West called out.

    “Too late.” Harry said. “I’d suggest you all leave.” He said before removing the nozzle and spraying the gasoline God knows where. The moment the officers saw him grab a hold of the pump they all retreated to the one operable car they had left. Harry rushed into his car and shot at the trail that he made earlier. Both cars left the store in time before the flames reached the gas pumps, causing both to be set up in flames. The tires of his vehicle screeched as he came to a quick stop, catching sight of the fire with his own eyes.

    “Harry!” Joe yelled. “What did you do?”

    “I took care of it.”

    “Is anyone-”

    “N-No. No one is hurt.”

    “What about the kid inside?” Joe asked.

    “You’re really concerned about the fuc-...I’ll go back later.” Harry said as he tried to outrun the cops.

    “No. I will.”

    “Are you mad? You won’t be able to get-”

    “I’m sure there’s a back door.”

    “Joe, we’ll get the kid later. For now we have to-”

    “No, Harry. You get rid of the cops. I’m going back for the kid.” Joe said. Being a man of his word Joe turned his vehicle around. He looked into both cars as he drove by them. The flames he drove towards matched the frustration in all of their eyes. Following the plan he created in his head, Joe had entered the building from the back of the store. He didn’t hesitate to make to the bathroom, just to find a semi-conscious Martin on the bathroom floor. “All right, let’s go.” Joe said, picking Martin up.

    “You found him?” Harry asked

    “Yes I found him.” Joe replied.

    “Huh?” Martin mumbled. Joe took no time in returning to his motorcycle.

    "You're finally getting that drive after work." Joe said driving off.

    “When you’re in the clear come back to the building.”

    “Fine.”

    Joe had taken Martin immediately home, acquiring the needed information from his license before returning to their little hideaway in the city. Harry didn’t arrive until 3 hours later, returning to an unsteady Joe West.

    “Where the hell have you been, Harry!?” Joe said.

    “Running from your father?” Harry responded.

    “Don’t get smart with me, Harrison. We had a fucking agreement.” Joe said, taking off his boots and throwing them at Harry, both hitting him in the abdomen before Harry took a seat in his chair.

    “Do you mind?” Harry hissed at the pain in his arm he took off his jacket. The blood had drenched the rest of his arm. Joe’s attitude had quickly washed itself away with a wave of concern for Harry’s arm.

    “When did this-”

    “Before I blew up the damn gas station. Can you please get this damn thing out of my arm?” Harry asked as he looked down at the wound. Joe had retrieved all the tools necessary before pulling up a chair beside Harry.

    “You’re lucky it’s just a flesh wound.” Joe said, he handed Harry a wood spoon. “Bite.” Harry did as told before feeling the sting of alcohol touch his skin. Harry’s bite on the spoon had grown stronger as Joe went step by step to tend to his arm. From removing the bullet to stitching his skin back together. After wrapping his arm up, though he really shouldn’t have, Harry drowned himself in some alcohol to help with the pain.

    “I-I didn’t know you were a doctor…” Harry said. Joe raised an eyebrow and shook his head at him.

    “I think you’ve had enough.” Joe said, taking the beer bottle out of Harry’s hand. “Let’s get you to bed, Harry.” Joe said as he walked Harry into his bedroom, which was really an emptied out office with a bed. The both of them laid silently next to one another.

    “I fucked up big time, didn’t I?” Harry asked, turning towards Joe.

    “Very much I’m afraid.” Joe responded coldly.

    “Babe.”

    “Don’t fucking ‘babe’ me, you asshole. Someone could’ve gotten killed.”

    “But no one-”

    “I don’t care.” Joe said, crossing his arms as he looked up at the ceiling. “Disobey me again, I swear I’ll be the one to put a bullet in you.”

    “Whatever you say, Joe.” He said, fixing the blanket on top of him. “Whatever you say.”