#and wheres my damn award for getting injured huh.

[neonbuck]

i think it should be considered obscene and predatory to have cops and the military in kids shows. promoting that kind of lifestyle/agenda to children is so creepy

[xoxo-teddybear]

Bakugou Turns Into A Dog - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, crack, lowkey pervy Katsuki, cursing, (writing not spell checked!)

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Request: Bakugou’s been hit with a quirk that has given him the body of a dog. He’s still has his own human thoughts and voice but now..he’s a dog. Just how will he abuse his new power with f!Y/N

It was supposed to be a normal day! Well, as normal as it could get for UA. But of course, trouble just had to strike, and of course the ones at the center of it all was the infamous Bakusquad. More specifically, the man the group was named after.

“I-...I can’t believe that actually just h-happened!” A cheerful blonde cried out as tears fell from his face and laughter rang out from his voice.

“C’mon man, don’t be laughing at what just happened. This is serious,” Kirishima said with concern as he looked down in his arms.

“Are you serious? This has got to be the best thing that’s ever happen since we met Bakugou!” Kaminari replied with while once again dying of laughter.

“IF YOU DONT SHUT THE HELL UP RIGHT NOW SPARK PLUG, I’LL BLOW YOUR ASS TO BITS!” Bakugou barked out.

“Oh yeah? With what quirk lil pupper?” Denki slickly replied while booping his nose. Bakugou’s been making fun of Denki for the longest, this was the perfect revenge. His dear friend has been turned into a dog! Not just any dog, and not the dog you would expect. He wasn’t a german shepherd or rottweiler. Katsuki Bakugou sits in Kirishima’s arms as a fluffy, blonde, angry pomeranian.

Luckily, kinda, the only thing that changed about Bakugou was his body. He could still speak and understand the human language and he could still think like one too, but now it’s all that in a fluffy, round, adorable body. Now, he was all bark and no bite......sorta.

“OW!” Kaminari yelped as Bakugou latched onto his finger and growled. Passerbys watched as the young group of teens watched their friend throw his hand around in pain with a tiny floof dangling on it. Kirishima went in to grab Bakugou and calm Kaminari down.

“Damn, you little rugrat,” The electric blonde started, “just wait till Y/N sees you, she’s gonna die.” Kaminari teased. Once those words left his mouth, Bakugou’s puppy eyes went wide.

‘Oh hell no!’

Kirishima saw how his friend was shaking in his arms and grew concerned so he asked, “hey man, are you alright there Bakubro?”

Bakugou was extremely nervous. He couldn’t let his longtime crush see him like this! Like a weak, soft, puffball! If you saw Bakugou like this, the second he’d turn back to his normal self, he’d dive out the nearest window anytime you were around.

The entire Bakusquad knew of Katsuki’s little (HUGE) crush, and the fact that one of them was now able to use that information against him mortified the lil guy now.

“Aww c’mon Denki, that’s not very nice,” Mina said as she pet Bakugou’s little head before he snapped at her hand. Thankfully, she dodged it.

“Yeah well Kacchan hasn’t been very nice either! Damn mutt nearly bit my finger off!” This received a growl from Bakugou, which was unsurprising pretty normal.

“At least the cops told us the quirk will ware off in two weeks.” Sero stated. Kirishima joined in.

“Yeah. Sheesh, I still can’t believe what happened. That random criminal really jumped outta nowhere.” The red head said.

“Tch, I still can’t believe someone could be stuck with a shitty ass quirk like that. Turning people into pets. Ridiculous.” The blonde dog said.

“Imagine what it’s like being on the receiving end of that quirk. Must be just as ridiculous.” Mina teased.

Bakugou jumped down from Kirishima’s arms before speaking. “Yeah! No shit Pinkie!” He said while standing on his hind legs and motioning towards his new body with his front paws as if he were human.

——————————————————————————

As the group made it to the front doors of the dormitory, Bakugou stopped them before entering.

“Listen up dumbasses! Nobody better say SHIT to Y/N. Just say I’m some random dog found on the street and you guys opted to take care of me till you found me a home. If she asks what happened to me, tell her I was forced onto a trip with my parents. Got that?!” Bakugou strictly spoke.

“Got it!” The group said in unison, but a certain blonde had a different plan in mind. As they entered through the doors, Kirishima hid Bakugou into the side of his jacket but it only made comical sense that you were the first person to greet them.

“Oh! Hey guys!” You said with your award winning smile as you walked towards the group. Before anyone could say anything else, Kaminari spoke up.

“Hey Y/N! You wanna guess what Kirishima has in his jacket?” Denki exclaimed.

“Oh, no I’m sure Y/N has better things to do!”

“Maybe she shouldn’t,”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,”

The 3 friends were throwing out excuse after excuse to keep you from seeing the little devil.

“Woah woah! Hey! You guys! Chill. If you don’t want me to see then I won’t force you. It’s fine.” You kindly said.

‘Whew’ the squad all thought

‘She is so awesome!’ Bakugou thought while in the jacket

“Oh c’mon guys, show her the puppy!” Kaminari said. Now that grabbed your attention.

“Wait? Puppy?! That’s what you guys are hiding. Awww no fair!! Can I please see it! Please please pleaseeee!!!” You begged. After your constant pleading and the squad’s constant denial, Bakugou thought he could just give in this one time. He knew that his friends would cover for him and say he’s just some random dog and you would drop it so he began to stick his snout out of the jacket. Kirishima took it as a sign to show him to you.

“Oh my goddd!!! It’s so cute!!! Boy or girl?” You kindly asked while petting Bakugou’s head, something the dog was enjoying a little too much.

“It’s a boy,” Kirishima said. “We found him on the street so even though we’re kinda busy we wanted to take care of him and heal him up till we can find him a new home.” Mina added on.

“Guyssss c’mon!! Tell her the best part! Tell her exactly who that dog is.” Kaminari begged. The Bakusquad including the dog looked towards Kaminari with a warning look, but Kaminari didn’t care. The ultimate revenge starts now.

“Y/N! That’s Bakugou!” Kaminari exclaimed. As everyone started denying it, you looked towards the dog and saw that it did resemble Bakugou a lot, but then again Bakugou did look like an angry pomeranian time and time again.

Before you chose to listen to one or the other, you weighed your options. Kirishima the chivalrous and honest, the manliest man, or Kaminari the jester himself? It’s was obvious who you were gonna listen to.

“Oh stop that Kaminari. Bakugou may look like a fiesty fluff ball from time to time but he’s not really a dog.” You said while petting the pupper’s chin. Everyone sighed in relief at your words.

“But that’s really-“ Kaminari was cut of with Sero wrapping his tape around his mouth.

“Hey if you guys need a healer, I could use my quirk to help out with that. It may not be a full on healing quirk but it should help the little guy. Plus, I don’t mind spending the next...?” Kirishima helped you out.

“Two weeks,” he said.

“Right, I don’t mind spending the next two weeks with the little cutie.” You said. The dog’s eyes went wide at that as a plan came into mind but the Bakusquad once again started denying, saying it was fine but you insisted since Mina just previously said they were all busy. Throughout the chaos a VERY human like sound came from the creature in Kirishima’s arms.

“Woof.” Bakugou said with such a casual demeanor. He said ‘woof’ in such a human like voice, it was absolutely absurd. As everyone looked down at the dog, the only thing that could be heard was Sero awkwardly giving out a cough to break the silence.

“Ok...well umm that may be a sign that he’s ok with me taking him!” You said with an excited smile. Kirishima looked at the dog and as Bakugou looked back up at him, his best friend knew that he should give you the dog.

“Ok Y/N, he’s all yours. But you’re right about one thing. Since he does look like Bakugou, we named him Blasty, so that’s what you should refer to him as,” he said while placing the dog in your arms. The pomeranian was excited as what appeared to be a small smile showed up in his face and he squirmed around in Y/N’s arms, cuddling up against her pillowy breast.

“Awesome! For the next two weeks, it’s me and you Blasty!” You said while carrying Bakugou in the air facing you and looking at him. He was too cute so you pulled him in for a hug and kiss on his little head. Everyone could see Bakugou had a smug look on his face.

“Alright guys! I better get to healing him!” You said as you ran off with the pupper still holding a smug look, this time directed at Kaminari.

“Looks like your plan backfired dude,” Sero said.

“And it looks like Bakugou is gonna be enjoying these next 2 weeks a little too much,” Mina said and the group shared a laugh. Well, except for Kaminari who was kinda irritated that his revenge failed, but happy for his friend nonetheless.

——————————————————————————

Once you got back to your room you placed Blasty on your bed and started to check him for places where he needed healing.

“Huh, looks like you’re not really injured Blasty. Oh well, that’s fine! Just means I can spend more time with you without having to worry!” You said while rubbing his head. Bakugou leaned into your hand with a small and then rolled onto his back for belly rubs. He was hoping you would pet him some more but you didn’t.

“I’m sorry Blasty, but you need a bath before you hang around anymore. Let’s go!” You picked him up and he was wide eyed and bushy tailed. A bath. Whatever. As long as he got your attention. You placed him in the tub but realized you would be getting your clothes dirty, so you changed into some pajamas you wore the night before that were sitting in your hamper in your bathroom. Basically, you changed right infront of Bakugou. He was staring at you as if you were a meal. As you undressed infront of him he saw you in your panties and bra, matching of course, and damn your body was the exact definition of perfect. He licked his lips as he stared until you put on a cami top and black booty shorts.

“Damn..” he whispered.

When you came back to Bakugou you went down to his level and began to scrub him. You reveled in your touch and soaked in the hot water. When you took him out to dry him off you looked at the time and noticed it was pretty late.

“Alright, I guess we should head to bed. I’ll put on a move and we can sleep. Here, let me go set up some pillows for you to sleep on.” You said as you grabbed your spare pillows and placed them on the floor for Blasty.

As you got into bed you felt a little movement on your mattress. Apparently Bakugou hadn’t appreciated being on the floor. He wanted to sleep next to his future girl. So when you turned over and looked at him, he gave you puppy eyes.

“Oh...why the hell do you have to be so damn cute,” you said as you picked him up and placed him on your bed. Bakugou cuddled up in your chest and took in your delicious scent. You both drifted off to sleep while Bakugou was just having happy thought.

‘This is gonna be the best 2 weeks of my life!’

——————————————————————————

Ohhh what a week. You thought taking care of Blasty would be fun and exciting and adorable but it was that and more. It was also kinda frustrating. The damn dog would “bark” and growl at everyone, especially guys who tried to talk to you, and would only eat human food. He refused dog treats and never wanted to approach other dogs. Hell, this dog didn’t even go outside to use the bathroom. He went into the actual bathroom! Oh and don’t even get Y/N started on the “barking.” That dog had the most clear and humane “woof” any dog’s ever had! Another thing! This dog’s behavior is a little outta line. When Y/N would shower, it would try to follow her in and just sit there. When she would change, it would lay on her bed smiling and staring at her. When she would sleep it would ONLY cuddle into her breast or booty and one time when she woke up in the middle of the night, Blasty was up too. Again. STARING. What is up with this dog?

——————————————————————————

“Ugh!” Y/N said as she face planted the table. Her lunch completely disregarded and the Bakusquad (minus Bakugou because apparently he had to go on a trip with his parents...or so you thought) watching as the blonde mutt poked around her head on the table.

“Having fun there Y/N?” Mina asked to which Y/N replied with a stare and a twitching eye.

“Blasty is INSANE!” You roared out. The Bakusquad and Blasty (aka Bakugou) watched on. “Don’t get me wrong, I love having the little guy around but he has some weird habits for a dog. He won’t eat like a dog, use the bathroom like a dog, interact with other dogs, and don’t get me started on the barks! I’ve never heard a dog say WOOF like a human,” you took a breather before continuing, “another thing, Blasty is a lowkey perv sometimes. Well if he were human at least, but he has perv tendencies. Like the staring whenever I’m a little underdressed or in the tub or SLEEPING.”

With that rant, Bakugou felt his ears fell and he backed up into a corner on the table. He was starting to feel insecure. Had his crush really thought of him as a pervy little thing? When you saw Blasty’s reaction, you noticed he might’ve understood what you said.

‘Can he....no there’s no way.’ You thought about the dog. Was there a possibility he could understand everything you just said?

“Oh Blasty, don’t be so dramatic. I’m just saying, for a dog, you’re a little weirdo, but it’s okay because for the time being, you’re my little weirdo. I still got love for you!” You said while holding him up in the air. Once again, the dog had a reaction to your words.

The squad was starting to notice the gears in your head turn and Kirishima quickly took him away for a little “walk.”

“Oh hey Y/N, why don’t you finish your food and I’ll take Baku- BLASTY! For a walk. Yeah, maybe he needs some outdoor exercise.

“Oh no Kiri it’s fine I-“

“THANKS!” The red head said as he dashed out the cafeteria with the little floof. Oh well, might as well enjoy your last few minutes of peace.

——————————————————————————

“What the HELL SHITTY HAIR!? She was all up on me back there! You didn’t have to drag me away!” Bakugou spoke as Kirishima held him from his armpits.

“Sorry man, but you were the one who said you didn’t want your cover blown and she was starting to figure it out. And c’mon Bakugou, she knows you better than someone who would go on a trip with his parents. Not only that but your looks are so obvious. What dog had red eyes and spikey blonde hair?!?” The red head explained. The blonde dog only crossed his arms in a very human like manner and turned to the side.

“We’ll be fine, the quirk will ware off in another week so get over it. Besides, there’s no way she’ll know! We have everyone that was there covering it up for me. It’s fine!” Bakugou replied.

His best friend sighed before saying “alright man, if that’s what you want,” and placed him down to head back to the cafeteria.

“Thank you! Jeez, now let’s get back to the cafeteria. I wanna have lunch with my Y/N.” Bakugou walked on all fours with his head held proudly.

“You may be a tiny dog, but that huge crush on her that you got going on is still going strong,” the red head said.

“You’re damn right, Shitty hair!”

As the boys walked, they didn’t know that from around the corner, Y/N heard everything.

‘Bakugou?! Quirk??? CRUSH?!!?’ Oh this was too good. With this new information, Y/N walked off with a smirk and a plan.

——————————————————————————

The next few days passed and like always, you work up with Blasty, oh you mean Bakugou, on your chest. You slightly smiled knowing this past 2 weeks, your crush had been coddling over you. You got even more excited knowing your feelings were mutual. You woke up and got ready for the day.

Now, the same thing happened as always. You got up and went to the bathroom to shower and Blasty would follow. He would watch you undress and step in the shower and step out and change. You would pick him up, hold him tight, kiss his forehead, and then be out the room. This time, your routine felt a little different knowing it was actually Bakugou staring at you this whole time.

Oh. He had seen you naked multiple times. You didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or flattered. Oh well, he kept on staring is he must’ve been enjoying the show, except this time, you actually gave him one. You slowly stripped outta your clothes and made slight and soft R-rated noises as the warm water hit your skin. You bent over as you put on your underwear and slowly got dressed. You couldn’t believe yourself. Serving these looks to a dog.

Bakugous cheeks would be so red under that fur, the way you moved this morning was everything. He didn’t even notice the drool slipping from his mouth. As you stood there in nothing but your panties and bra, you turned towards Bakugou. And idea came to your head.

“Hey Blasty! You wanna help me pick out a look today? We sure are lucky the school staff has an all day meeting! Free day for us!” You picked Bakugou up and held him against your nearly bare breast. Bakugou just had to rub himself in between your mounds a little, and you noticed this, and released a slight whine.

“Mm..hey Blasty, stop that.” You placed him down and dressed into a mini skirt and tube top. You matched with a pair of everyday causal heels and went out with Bakugou following along. He would walk directly under your side and look up. He enjoyed the view of your lace panties and the jiggle of your ass everytime you took a step. Man, was this a perfect Friday or what?

Well it would’ve been if it hadn’t been for a certain Icy-Hot. What Bakugou didn’t know, was that you texted Todoroki the previous night to help you with this little plan of yours.

“Hey L/N.” Todoroki greeted you with kid kind eyes and gentle smile.

“Todoroki, stop that. I told you that you’re one of the people who can call me Y/N.” You said.

“Well alright, then I insist you call me Shoto in return.” He said.

“Only seems fair!” You said with a giggle to which Todoroki stared at.

“You have such a beautiful smile.” He complimented. You blushed at his words, especially since Todoroki really wasn’t one for..umm..emotions.

“Thanks,” you bashfully said while stepping a little closer. As Bakugou watched this whole interaction go down from below, he couldn’t help but release a small growl. No way in hell is Half and Half taking his girl!

“Actually, there was a reason why I called you over.” Todoroki said before speaking again. This caught your attention and Bakugou’s. “I was wondering if your wanted to go in a date with me. Tonight. It could be really casual and we could even do a small movie night here in the common rooms. Just you and me. What do you say?” He asked. Bakugou was fuming.

“A date huh? Mm, I’m sorry Shoto, but I’ve actually kinda been waiting for Bakugou to get back.” You said which made Bakugou flip his head towards you.

“Bakugou?” Todoroki asked.

“Yeah. I’ve had a small crush on him for awhile, and I was hoping my first date would be with him.” You explained. The cartwheels Bakugou’s heart was doing in his tiny body was ridiculous.

‘She likes me back She likes me back She likes me back!!!!’ The dog thought to himself. His tail began wagging and his smile grew bigger than ever.

“Well I heard he’ll be gone until Saturday,” Todoroki started, “so how about just for tonight, I keep you company with a movie, maybe some chocolate, maybe some flowers, and see where the night goes?” He asked. Bakugou snarled at the two toned boy with his fangs until he heard your voice.

“Sure!” You said.

“Really?” Todoroki asked.

‘Really?!’ Bakugou thought.

“Really!” You said, “Bakugou will be gone for another week so I see no harm in hanging as friends!” You smiled once more.

“Great! This’ll be amazing Y/- OUCH” Bakugou had interrupted Todoroki by latching onto his leg and holding on with his life as Todoroki did everything he could to shake the blonde mutt off. You reached for “Blasty” before apologizing to Todoroki.

“I’m sorry, Shoto. He gets like this sometimes.” You explained.

“Ah..no worries. Uh, I’ll see you later tonight?” Todoroki asked you.

“Yeah, definitely. See you then!” You said as you walked off with a grumpy pomeranian in your arms.

‘On every level. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?’ Bakugou thought to himself as you carried him away.

—

You walked into your room to with Bakugou to freshen up a little for your date with Todoroki. A little sprits of perfume here, a dash of blush there, and a little tweak with your hair. Your outfit was cute enough for a friendly little date. As you turned to Bakugou, you saw his sad puppy face.

“Oh, don’t worry Blasty! I’ll be back in a few hours! I’ll see you soon, ok?” You said as you kissed his forehead and made your way to the common room. Just before the door shut, Bakugou slipped out with you. If he couldn’t be on this date with you, then he’d just have to ruin it for Todoroki.

As you finally came in contact with the handsome boy, he greeted you and spoke of your plans

“We’ll be watching a movie, but we gotta get some great snacks first.” He said.

“How about just some popcorn and candy, they’re already right here in the dorms. Come over here and help me prep!” You said pulling on his hand and dragging him to the kitchen. Bakugou didn’t take too kindly to this and quickly went to tear Todoroki’s jeans and bite his ankle.

“Ouch!” Todoroki screamed in pain.

“Are you alright?��� You looked around and saw his lower leg had been damaged.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just a scratch.” He said reassuring your troubles.

“Well alright, if you say so.” You said and resumed your snack prep. But that was only the start of this horrible night. Throughout the date, Bakugou tortured the poor boy and did everything he could to ruin the little get together. He ate the popcorn and candy while your backs were turned, he chewed on the wires to the TV, stopping you guys from watching, and even peed on Todoroki’s leg while you guys just sat and talk. Although Todoroki saw this coming with Y/N’s plan, he had enough of torment from Bakugou. He decided to move into the final plan, right here right now.

“Y/N, you’re an amazing girl and any guy would be really really lucky to have you,” Bakugou watched this little speech from afar, growling at the two, “and I know you’re waiting for Bakugou, but since he’s not back yet, I kinda just wanna end this night with something special.” He said as he began to lean in, you had no intent on stopping him. Seeing this, Bakugou began to run towards the couple with every intent on stopping this kiss.

“HEYYY!!! Those lips are reserved for me!” Bakugou screamed and you both turned towards the little dog. Bakugou jumped into the air to leap onto Todoroki and at the strike of midnight, His body turned into a human again (fully clothed, don’t worry) and fell on Todoroki, making them both fall back.

“You stay away from my girl, icy-hot!” Bakugou said while on top of Todoroki, clinging to his shirt.

“She’s all yours, you angry pomeranian,” Todoroki said as he escaped and ran to his room. Bakugou only looked back at you with a fierce smirk. He walked up to you, grabbed your face and pulled you in for a kiss that you happily returned. He pulled away after a minute and began walking with you hand in hand.

“You’re mine now.” Bakugou said

“Whatever you say....Blasty.” You snickered.

Bakugou turned his head in shock. “You knew?” He asked.

“Of course I knew. I knew Blasty was you, I knew it was you whenever you stared at my naked body, I knew it was you whenever you cuddled into my chest, I knew it was you when I overheard you speaking like a human to Kirishima. It also helped that I just watched you transform back to your normal self. But me knowing it was you was the whole reason why I came up with this plan with Todoroki. It’s about time you made a move on me, Blasty.” You said with a teasing voice.

Embarrassed and frustrated at the fact he’d been caught, Bakugou let out an outburst.

“YOU FUCKING TEASE!” he screamed with his hands holding little explosions.

“Yeah, but now, I’m your tease. And it’s ok, because I know you like me. It’s easy to tell with that kiss and whole possessiveness. But that’s fine, because I really like you too Blasty.” You said with a smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck and Bakugou returned it with a smirk and a hug.

“Damn straight, Princess.” He said as he held onto you tight. “You’re mine.”

A/N: y’all this is not spellchecked bc after the week I’ve had, I just couldn’t. I’m sorry if this isn’t to your liking but I had to finish this so I sloppily wrote it down. I hope you enjoyed it at least! See you next time Bear Cubs💗🧸

[darthzero22]

Taking care of you

Crosshair x Neutral Reader 

In the mission you ended up with a shot in the right foot, nothing serious, but it was hard to walk. All day you were mostly sitting and hoped that the next day your foot would be better.

You woke up an hour before the time everyone usually wakes up, you confirmed it with your holopad that you had on a metal box next to your bed because you were using it as a nightstand. The first thing that came with waking up was the little stabbing pain in your foot, and you were already cursing it in your head. The worst thing is that because of the position in which you slept, in order to make your foot as comfortable as possible, your right leg fell asleep causing you to barely move it. You definitely started the day in the best possible way, and that was sarcasm.

Well, there was one good thing about your horrible awakening and that was to see Crosshair sleeping next to you, and he looked so peaceful that it was a great comfort to you. He was lying on his side, facing you, and so you could see his face in more detail. You weren't going to wake him up, of course not. In those moments you thought about how damn attractive he was and you gently caress his face.

Thanks to one of those caresses Crosshair begins to move a little, as if he was waking up, in fact he first mumbles in his sleep and then wrinkles his nose. In spite of that he doesn't wake up, he was still sleeping, and maybe it was because the little caresses that you were giving him were relaxing for him.

You straighten your back, then hiss when you feel pain in your foot again, as you moved your leg a little in an attempt to wake it up. At least the pain was bearable, unlike yesterday. You wanted to get up to reach your datapad that you clumsily left on the table last night, and you were about to move out of bed. Unfortunately your foot didn't cooperate at all and so when you put it against the floor, the pain got worse and this time you didn't hiss, you groaned. You tried to be as quiet as possible, but Crosshair heard you and that's why he woke up.

“What…?” he sees you sitting with your injured foot on top of the bed and a grimace of pain on your face. “Y/N”

Crosshair had straightened his back to stand next to you and see you better. You could tell by the look on your face that your foot was making your morning difficult, and so he moves closer to you to rest his hand on your right leg and start stroking it in an attempt to reassure you.

“Hey, Cross… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you”

“That doesn't matter now.  What did you do now?”

“I was clumsy and... I put my foot on the floor”

Crosshair sighs, he was going to tell you something, but first he gives you a kiss on your temple, something that relaxes you more.

“Even with an injured foot you are still stubborn”, he said.

“Well, I guess I learned that from this squad” you laugh lightly and close your eyes tightly from the pain. “The worst thing... is that my leg fell asleep, I can't feel it completely”

“Is that so?” he squeezes your right thigh in a gently way.

“I barely felt that, so yeah.... My leg is numb. I just need to lose a toe and with that I will win a bad luck award”

What you said made Crosshair laugh without opening his mouth, but then he shakes his head slightly.

“I know I exaggerated a little…” you start to say.

“Just a little?”

“It's just... I know I was a little clumsy on the mission, but I think I got the message when I got shot in the foot by a damn droid”

You sigh and lean to the side to lean on Crosshair, specifically your head on his shoulder. You rub your face against it a little, as if you were a cat giving affection.

“And I know Tech said it would take a few days for my foot to recover...”

“All the more reason for you not to be stubborn. If you want to go back to doing the missions, worry about your foot”

“I know… Are you upset because I woke you up?”

“No, I'm not. I'm worried actually”

“Sorry for worrying you then”

“That's what I get for loving you” he rests his chin on your head.

“And that's bad for you, right?” you joked and then smile.

“Well, you said it, not me”

You knew he was playing along with your joke, so you give him a gentle tap on his chest.

“Now seriously speaking, I don't want to be a nuisance to anyone, least of all you”

“Don’t start”

“I want to start trying to walk and not sit in a chair all the time. Yesterday I didn't do anything useful for the team, but today I want to do at least something”

“Are you serious? You got the shot yesterday, Y/N. If you don't want to rest for you, fine, but do it for me then”

You'd do anything for Crosshair, so you pull away from his shoulder and look at him to nod your head. He squeezes your right thigh again and this time you did feel it, so it meant that your leg was no longer numb.

“Oh, I felt that” you said.

“That's progress”

“And now comes the tingling in the leg.... Damn it!”

You look sideways at Crosshair and see that he had a smirk on his face.

“Don't make fun of me!”

“Me? I would never do that” he said, acting a voice of indignation.

“Oh, right. I totally believe you, dummy” you said with sarcasm, and with affection. “You know what's even funnier? I have to go to the bathroom”

Crosshair's smile disappeared when he heard you say that and now you're the one smiling.

“That means...”

“I need help to get there, your help” you rest your index finger on his chest and then bring it up to give him a playful poke on the nose with it.

Crosshair wrinkles his nose and then sighs in annoyance, then you see him get off the bed.

“Let's do it quickly” he said, and he offers you both hands to help you up.

“Oh, I'll take my time” you put a smirk.

“Why did I open my mouth?”

You grab his hands and with his help you get up from the bed, avoiding placing your right foot on the floor at first, and once you are standing you slowly place it on the floor. You hiss a little, but it was a slight pain thankfully. Now leaning on him, you walk to the bathroom and manage to get there without a problem. He waits for you outside, hoping nothing happens to you inside.

“Everything all right in there?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine”

You take a few moments in the bathroom and when you're done you open the door, but you gently rest a hand on Crosshair's chest to stop him when he tried to help you.

“Y/N”

“I want to try, Cross”

Crosshair, unsure, nods his head and lets you walk alone to the room, but he followed closely behind in case you stumbled or lost your balance. Since the ship used to be a mess at times, you trip over a small box, but Crosshair caught you just in time, and he was never so fast in his life.

“Wow! Where did that box come from?” you asked with your two hands on his chest, since you were so close to his body.  

“I don’t know. But I'm going to kill Wrecker. I told him to clean up this mess” he had one hand on your back and the other on your waist.

“You know he doesn't listen to you” you smile.

“Now he will listen to me”

“Hey, relax, Cross. Nothing happened to me and luckily I didn't hit my right foot”

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“I am now” you give him a kiss on the corner of his lips.

You slowly separate from him to start walking again and he follows close behind, now resting a hand on your back. As you sat up in your bed, you see Crosshair leave the room for a moment to return with what appeared to be an injection, it was the same type as the one Tech gave you to relieve your pain yesterday.

“Hey, are you sure… that's necessary?” you get a little nervous.

“Although you can walk decently, I'm not going to risk it. Tech told me to give you this in case I can see that your foot is giving you a lot of trouble”

“I… Fine, fine”

“Don't move”

Before you knew it, he gave you that injection and you complain because it hurt just a little. You knew that with that your pain would be more acceptable, and in a way you liked watching Crosshair take care of you. He was always so serious, so disinterested in most things that seeing him like that made you feel lucky to have him.

“See? It wasn't that bad” he said.

“Yeah… Actually, you were more careful than Tech”

“Because it's you”

You get out of bed, so Crosshair raises an eyebrow, and you move a little closer to hug him, resting your face on his shoulder.

“Did you get out of bed just to hug me?”

“Yes” you were smiling.

“It wasn't necessary"

“It is for me. I may have been unlucky yesterday and today in terms of my foot, but I'm actually very lucky and it's because I have you”

“You are more sentimental every day, or does this hug have another intention?”

“... No. What makes you think that?“

"I don't know, maybe because you have your hands resting on my ass?”

Indeed in the hug you had both your hands resting on Crosshair's butt.

“Hey, you did the same thing before when you caught me from falling to the floor. And you thought you were subtle” you said.

“Ha. Who said I wanted to be subtle?”

Crosshair's eyes widen for a moment when you give his ass a squeeze, and he clearly blushes. You break away with an amused smile and chuckle a little at the look on his face.

“I'm not subtle either" you said.

“Uh-huh. You are worse than me” he runs a hand over his butt, since you gave it a hard squeeze.

“I learned from the best"

You were about to sit on the bed again, but Crosshair stopped you by grabbing your waist and forces you closer to him to finally kiss you. You obviously reciprocate and rest your hands on his shoulders. Your foot luckily didn't hurt at all, so you continued kissing him, and you smile in the middle of the kiss when you feel his hands now resting on your butt.

“Never change, Cross” you told him after breaking away from the kiss.

“Very well. But don't regret saying that later” he smiles.

You laugh and kiss him again. When you break away from the kiss to catch your breath, you force Crosshair to lie on his back on the bed, and you climb on top of him so that you can kiss again, now with more passion.  

[btsslowburnfic]

Born to be Yours Chapter 9

 Story Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

Chapter summary: After party. SEXY TIME

A/N: This chapter contains mature content. It is marked XD Please only read if you are 18 +

Previous chapter found here: Chapter 8

--------------------------------------

All of you end up back at your regular studio, across town from Robert's and the Theater. It has a large atrium that has been decorated for a private after party. You watch as the guys give interviews with their production crew that will be shared with ARMY. You turn and smile as you drink some of the sparkling punch and chat with Xavier.

“Ok. I’ve decided. We’re touring with Ava Max.” He says, clinking his glass up to yours.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll send that contract to our lawyer and then we can sign it.” you take out your phone and type a note into your calendar for tomorrow.

“Act cool.” Xavier whispers awkwardly to you, “soulmate inbound.”

“Oh God why are you this way?” you tease him and turn around to see RM walking over to the table you two are standing at.

“Hey. All done with your interviews?” you ask, trying to sound casually even though you feel your heart racing.

“For now. We have them pretty much nonstop.” he says, walking up to the table. He looks at Xavier, “Hey man, I’m really sorry about earlier. I’m glad it seems like the two of you made up.”

“No worries. I was way out of line. It’s all good. I am going to go and find Joe though. I promised I’d introduce him to Jimin. Take care,” Xavier excuses himself leaving just the two of you standing there.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says quietly.

You pretend to look around like you are confused and then point to yourself, “Me? Are you talking about me?” you laugh.

He smiles, “Yes you.” his voice sounding more relaxed and casual than you’ve ever heard it.

“Oh stop. I’m sure you say that to all your soulmates.” you tease.

He chuckles. “Yeah. About that. This whole thing is so weird. After tomorrow I won’t see you again.”

Damn he really went straight for that. “Yep. Back to the usual. You, jet-setting around the world and winning awards. Me, teaching fitness classes and directing. The excitement never stops.” you sip your drink, wishing it had alcohol in it.

“So is this where you normally work then?”

“Yes, but it’s usually much more boring. All of the fancy stuff is only out for you guys. The couches and rugs are even rented for just tonight,” you laugh.

“Would you mind giving me a tour?” he asks shyly.

“Really? You want a tour of my office? Are you allowed to just wander around like that without a camera crew?” you raise your eyebrows, feigning concern

He scoffs, “Yes. and yes. Occasionally we are allowed to wander off.”

“Ok. But this is going to be the most boring tour you have ever been on. Do you think anyone else wants to come along?” you ask.

“No.” he says, almost too soon. He covers up for this by adding, “I already asked them before I came over.”

You get the feeling he’s lying but you don’t know why. You also feel an awkward mix of happy, sad, and nervous. This dude is a mess. It’s a good thing he’s hot and also leaving tomorrow; you don’t think you could deal if you actually had to be around him much longer.

“Alright, come along. I’ll show you the ins and outs of this fitness studio. It’s extremely unique. We have 4.5 stars online.” you remark dryly as you begin the tour.

The two of you eventually end up on the second floor, “and here are the staff offices. I’m kind of a big deal around here so I get a real office with a door and everything. You smirk.

“Oh really? Wow, you’re moving up in the world”

“Hey hey we can’t all be idols. Some of us have to do the behind the scenes work.

Seriously though, congratulations. I really mean that,” you say smiling. “I can tell you guys work really hard.”

“Thank you.” he flashes his dimples at you.

You turn the handle to your office and flip on the light. “Here it is. Now,” you say as you walk into your office, “maybe you can tell me why you’re being a giant weirdo who’s lying to me about suddenly wanting a tour.”

He kicks his foot around nervously, “I uh, wanted to speak to you in private.”

You click your tongue, “Uh-huh. Ok. What did you want to talk about?”

He lets out a brief sigh. “That’s the thing. I don’t know. Nothing? Everything? I’m just so confused.”

You stand there and assess him standing there looking like an over-sized puppy dog at the moment.

“Yeah. Soulmate things are a real trip.” you comment and walk all the way into the office.

“Come on in.” He follows you as you turn back and face him.You pull him into the office. “You’re leaving in the morning right?”

“Yes,” you see him shifting uncomfortably.

“Well, as you can tell from our wrists, I need you to not injure yourself. Got it?” you ask.

Namjoon smiled, “I’ll see what I can do, but you should know I am accident prone,”

“Fuck. Really?” you respond mildly pouting.

“Sorry,” he responds looking down. You suddenly feel a pang of sadness. You realize it’s coming from him. What the fuck dude.

“Well, it’s been nice to work with you guys. It will really look good on my resume,” you tease. v

“What are you nervous about?” he asks you abruptly.

“Pardon?”

“I can feel that you’re nervous.”

“Well I can feel that you’re sad but you don’t see me making you talk about it,” you respond defensively.

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds.

“This is stupid,” you say.

“What is?” Namjoon responds irritated.

“This,” you gesture to your wrist, “this whole thing. Like I don’t need a fucking oven timer on my body telling me who I’m supposed to be with. And clearly it doesn’t even work right.”

“Agreed.” He responds.

“Also you get angry too easily,” you respond, feeling your heart racing, “I’m a very chill person usually but since meeting you my fitbit heart rate monitor is all over the place,”

“Me? I am usually a picture of calm. You are still nervous.”

“So? You’ve been angry and jealous all day and I didn’t say anything to you about it. Why are you jealous when you don’t even want me?” you say before you can stop yourself.

He stands there for a minute, looking at you and slowly closes the distance. “I don’t want to be forced into being with someone because of a soulmark. But when you look like that,” he gestures to you, “I don’t know how you could think I wouldn’t want you.”

Your breath is caught in your throat as you replay what he just said. “Fine. Here’s why I’m nervous, I can’t stop thinking about this” you say as you grab him by his suit jacket and plant a kiss on his lips. Even though the whole thing is stupid, you feel like you would regret it for the rest of your life if you didn’t at least kiss your soulmate. To your surprise, his entire posture softens and you feel the low level irritation fade from your body. He begins kissing you back and you feel butterflies in your stomach. Holy shit, kissing has never felt like this before. You have had quite a few boyfriends but nothing has ever compared to this. The two of you continue to make out for several minutes.

You pull away and look at him. When he’s not talking he’s really fucking hot. And watching him perform made you proud. Your soulmate was a badass. Even if he was an asshole sometimes.

“What’s that about?” Namjoon manages to ask, not releasing his hands from your waist.

“I just thought we should try it since we won’t get another opportunity. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering.” you respond honestly. To your surprise, Namjoon leans in and kisses you more.

_________________SEXY TIME_____________________________

“ I agree completely,” he pulls you close and kisses you again. This kiss feels as good as sex. There is nothing that has ever compared to it before. Time slows down. You run your hand through his hair. "Oh my God," you breathe out. His hands have started to explore your body, rubbing around your hips and ass, pulling your body close to his. You can feel his hardness now that the two of you are so close. At this moment you know what's going to happen next. He looks at you with a certain question in his eyes and you know exactly what he’s asking. You walk over and lock the door and turn the overhead lights off. You walk with a purpose back over to him and strip him of his suit jacket. “Take off your shirt or I am fucking ripping it off,” you command him. To your surprise he complies.

“That shirt costs $900,” he says as he gingerly folds it up.

“That’s stupid,” you respond and start kissing him again, your hands gripping his arms.

“It is,” he agrees and grabs your body again, pulling it up against his as he devours your mouth. He lifts you up and sits you on your desk. You are suddenly thankful you inherited the heavy wooden desk from the previous building tenets. He gently sucks on your neck.

“Hey! No marks,” you admonish him.

He leans in close to your ear, “Did you just remember you have a boyfriend, sweetheart?” and he's right. And you should feel bad but at this exact moment you don’t give a fuck. “I also have a soulmate,” you respond as you take his face in your hands and start kissing him again. He smells so good. Like cologne and sweat and something else that makes you melt. You feel him searching your back for your dress zipper. You laugh a little.

“What?” he sounds pissy.

“It’s a side zipper. It’s stupid. Here, let me,” you awkwardly unzip it and wiggle your dress so that it’s up over your hips. “It has to go over my head.” He looks confused. “Girl clothes are weird.” you summarize for him.

He kisses you again and you wait for him to take your dress off but to your surprise he doesn't. You wrap your legs around him, pushing his erection against your thin panties. It has the desired effect as you hear him moan into your mouth. He keeps one hand wrapped around you as the other one travels down to your thigh. It creeps up to your panties. He places his fingers against your panties, “Jesus. These are soaked. You want me don’t you?”

You respond by palming his dick, “You’re one to talk.” His breath catches in his throat for a moment. You smirk, “That’s what I thought,”

He responds by pulling your panties to the side and stroking your clit. “Mmm” you moan against his neck.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you?” You have no smart ass comment for that. Fuck yes you like that. “Yesss…” He removes your underwear the rest of the way and continues to stroke you as the two of you kiss. He pulls back and before you can even process it, he’s down on his knees with his head between your legs. “Fuck.” you cry out. You feel the perfect combination of his lips and tongue on your folds. You run a hand through his hair, pulling on some of it. He stands back up a minute later, grabbing the back of your neck and pressing the two of your mouths together, causing you to taste yourself. Jesus. You hear him undo his belt buckle and undo his zipper.

"I don't suppose you have a bed hiding in here somewhere?"

"Nope," you reply and bend over on the desk so your ass is sticking out in the air. You peek back behind you to see him staring dumbstruck at your naked figure. "You'll just have to fuck me right here. Good thing you've got strong leg muscles."

He walks closer and runs his hands over your ass. You can feel the heat of his cock nearing you.

"You want me to fuck you on this desk?" you feel him move his hand between your legs and he slowly sticks a finger inside you.

"Yes. Do you think you can manage that?"

He sticks another finger into you and pumps them in and out. It feels so good.

"I'm sure I can figure it out." you feel the heat from the head of his dick at your entrance as he pushes your legs apart and plants his hands on your hips.

He leans over to whisper in your ear. "We can stop if you want to." such a gentleman when he wasn't being an ass.

"No. I want this. If you do."

"Do you have a condom?"

"I don't usually have sex with random people in my office. So no. I'm on the pill though."

"Good enough," you hear him say and then without warning you feel him enter you. You cry out a bit in surprise.

"Shit. Are you OK?"

You give an awkward thumbs up.

He starts slowly moving in and out of you his balls slapping against you. “No marks,right?” you hear him say roughly.

“You better fucking not,” you hiss behind you trying to stay quiet since people are still in the building.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard and so good you will be ruined for anyone else. Do you understand?” he slams into you roughly.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little confused. Could you please clarify?” you retort. Since when did he think you took orders? He responds by slamming into you even harder and jerking your ponytail.

“You’re my soulmate.” he growls out, “You can go play house with whoever you want but I want you to remember, I’m the best you have ever fucking have or will ever have.” Holy shit this felt amazing. He was filling you up hard and fast. He stopped. “I said, do you fucking understand?”

“Keep going,” you turn and plead. He grips your ass, keeping you in place. “I said do you understand?”

“Yes. Now get back to fucking me,” you pout.

“That’s more like it sweetheart,” he grips your hips and resumes thrusting into your wet core. He is right. You have never had sex like this. It feels so good and so fulfilling. You lightly moan and put your mouth against your arm to muffle the sounds.

“Shit, you feel so good." you hear him say from behind you.

"Fuck me Rm." you whisper harshly.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you. It doesn’t take very long between the soulmate thing, the fact that people are downstairs, and the sexual tension.

As you get close he reaches around to stroke your clit, causing you to tightly clench around him as you see stars and orgasm. He follows suit a minute later; you feel the cum already starting to drip out of you.

“Jesus Christ,” you say. You feel him slowly pull out and hear him slowly putting his pants back on. You stand back up and turn around. You are surprised to see him looking very sad and uncertain.

“Did I actually hurt you?” he asks, surprisingly gently.

“If you did don’t you think your dick would hurt?” you wink at him and laugh.

“You have such a filthy mouth,” he teases you.

“Please. Five minutes ago you had me yelling “fuck me RM” I don’t want to hear it.” you smile and give him a light shove. You walk over to your desk and get some baby wipes you keep in there. You grab yourself some and then toss the pack at him. You go to your gym bag and throw on some clean panties.

_________________SEXY TIME END_____________________________

You sigh and walk over to unlock your office door. "Well, congratulations again on your award." you say as you turn the handle. He slams the door shut again, pinning you between him and the door. He looks like he wants to say something and you feel that he is working through a bunch of emotions. "Hey," you say and put your arms around his waist. "I don't regret it." you kiss him and focus on trying to feel at ease to help calm him down. "OK?" you rub your hands along the back of his neck.

"Yeah. OK." he responds quietly. He takes your right arm and pushes your bracelets out of the way so your mark is showing. He rubs it gently with his thumb.

"Come on, you have an early morning." you say as you move to open the door.

He follows you out down the hallway and you see the rest of the band hanging out in the reception hall.

"Alright, take care of yourself dude. Try not to be too much of an asshole." you smile and straighten his suit jacket. "Go. Celebrate with your band, you guys earned it." You summon all of your strength and walk over to the rest of the guys. You bow slightly, "Congratulations!" they all respond with their various "Thank you's"

"Take care!" you wave and head out to your car. This was not how you thought your night was going to go. You had sex with your soul mate. You had cheated on Ben. You needed to get out of there. You sit in your car waiting to feel guilty or bad. But it doesn't come. Instead you just feel a deep sadness about never seeing RM again.You breathe out deeply and start the car. Back to normal. Yeah right. NEXT CHAPTER

[fluffyblaire]

heroes & villains hunger games

I tossed a bunch of pro heroes and villains in to a Hunger Games simulator and I cannot believe how wild (and frighteningly perfect) it turned out. Place your bets, people, you don’t want to miss this!!! ╰(✧∇✧)╯

No explicit manga spoilers but if you’ve read the manga, I think you’ll find this extra entertaining.

Let me walk you through the highlights! 

Cornucopia Bloodbath:

Mister Compress takes the first kill!!!

I dunno about you but this picture of Dabi with this caption actually scared me a little bit. At least it’s not Toga ^_^

OOF—

━(◯Δ◯∥)━ン ...

But—but I purposely put Gentle and La Brava together in District 12 because they’re like star-crossed lovers in canon... and Gentle really did THAT smh. 

Day 1:

BJ avenged Hawks’ nose so FAST THO

The mental image of this one was too much ^^^

Did these two in succession make you choke the way it made me choke? Betrayals all around and only on the first day!

This is a pretty cool squad, but watch out for Gentle. He’s about to go on a rampage.

Day 2:

Okay, Shiggy is pretty evil here but wait for it...

GENTLE OH MY GOD stay tuned lmao this man ain’t thru yet

There’s something so anticlimactic and depressing about this RIP Toga

PFFFFFTTT—

In all my experience with the Hunger Games simulator, I have never seen a character turn out as violent and wicked as Gentle is turning out. I MEAN—the dude is not only leading in kills, but all his kills are brutal... His district mate La Brava, Ryukyu after she spared him, and now Miss Joke with a goddamn hatchet;;;;;;

Aww that’s cute... until I remembered Shigaraki forced Fatgum to choose between killing Kamui Woods or Present Mic eariler *sigh* poor Fatgum, he is not having a good time 😔

Day 3:

For those of you here for Kai, I just wanna let you know that this is all your man does throughout the entire game

Fatgum is having a TERRIBLE TIME

Aww;; poor guy, it’s been 3 days I hope his nose is getting better

Day 3 was surprisingly quiet huh? :3

Day 4:

And now back to our regularly scheduled bloodshed!

Overhaul stans come collect your man

Shiggy isn’t doing so good

In true soulmate fashion, Eraser Head and Present Mic die literally right after one another. 

Also, Gentle has 4 kills now, he got rid of almost 20% of his competition by himself, someone stop this madman!!! OAO

Day 5:

Our honorary participation award goes to Dabi who’s greatest highlight was acquiring throwing knives on the first day

Here is the status of every tribute currently by the way. Things to note:

Gentle and Fatgum somehow have the same number of kills, Fatgum really snapped these last couple of days huh? Midnight is also sneaking up on them with that kill count.

Overhaul, Hawks, Gang Orca, and Shigaraki have somehow managed to stay alive while also not killing anybody. Impressive!

Only Districts 10 and 2 still have both tributes left, will one of them be the winner????

Noooo;;;; why is he getting all the angst events?? That throw-down with Wash for the bread basket was literally the most action Hawks has seen this entire game so far.

You bet this man is really going for it. If this was a movie, Gentle would be the overpowered menace of a final boss at the end (think Cato from the actual hunger games)

Day 6:

Listen, I love Gang Orca but I have no idea where he’s been this entire game.

Wow, Fatgum and Shiggy’s storyline together was wild. 

JESUS MIDNIGHT SHES THE DARK HORSE I NEVER SAW COMING 

Finally Gentle’s rampage has come to an end just like that. A tragic death for a tragic evil man. I’d say he was the principal villain of this game, but Midnight might be stepping up to take his place.

At this point only Midnight, Hawks, Overhaul, and Mister Compress are alive. Hawks and Overhaul both haven’t killed anyone—

PLEASE the dumbass energy from Overhaul this entire game has been just *chef’s kiss*

!!! Hawks really bided his time until the end, and he’s finally moving! Hawks took out Midnight while she tried to run—hold up... that sounds familiar—

Day 7:

... O_O

HE—

You’re telling me the man who had his nose broken by a washing machine on the first day and then who basically hid the entire game crying himself to sleep with nightmares ended up winning...?

WELL HAWKS IS ONE OF MY FAVES SO WHO AM I TO COMPLAIN ¯\_(OuO)_/¯

Listen, I don’t know how smart this simulator is with writing an actual story, but damn we have some good narratives here especially with the top 5:

Winner Hawks: Injured on the first day making him an underdog, kept his hands clean almost the entire time while racking up angst points, emerged at the last minute when almost everyone else was dead and personally took out his last 2 opponents to win

2nd Place Mister Compress: Did one thing at the beginning and never did anything again just like in canon Got the first kill, got no more kills, and actually lasted until the very end. It’s poetic as shit: this game began with his kill and ended with his death.

3rd Place Midnight: A dangerous woman no one saw coming and who quietly climbed the way to victory while being overshadowed by Gentle.

4th Place Overhaul: Did wholesome things the entire time and not harming anyone with no one harming him either, but the one time he tries to harm someone, it backfires and he dies. Can we get an F in the chat for this man?

5th Place Gentle: Captivating tribute right from the start. His ambition and savagery held me the nation transfixed! And he was doing great for a while before his glory eventually fizzled out in a quiet slow death. 

Tuturu~ You’ve reached the end, hope you enjoyed this mess and thank you for reading! 😊    

[lynne-monstr]

fic (leverage, eliot/quinn)

title: (don’t think i can take anymore) wasted days and sleepless nights

summary: Sleeping together is easy. Quinn trusts Eliot with his body while he's awake and aware. He draws the line at actually falling asleep with Eliot.

contains: mentions of violence/torture, mild sex, banter

ao3 link

In the past thirty-six hours, Quinn had been shot at, stabbed, drugged, locked in the trunk of his own car, and nearly run over twice while making his escape. Every muscle in his body blazed like an inferno as he ran.

Running on empty, the coolly rational part of his brain chimed in. Quinn ignored it. He couldn’t stop; if he stopped, he was dead, and if he was going to die he’d do it on his feet. So he kept going, the soles of his uncomfortable dress shoes pounding along the pavement in the dead of night, every sense straining for the slightest rustle of an approaching attack.

When no one jumped him sliding down a fire escape to street level, he risked taking a quick breather. On silent feet, he ducked behind a dumpster in the narrow alley. His singed leg ached, and he made a note to add ‘near escape from a burning office’ as part of the litany of reasons he was never working for Hungarian arms dealers again. Unfortunately, that same burning building also meant the police were too busy investigating the arson downtown to notice the small war being waged in the otherwise silent streets. There’d be no interruptions or distractions that he could use to slip away.

He was quickly running out of options. And worse, ammunition.

When his lungs felt a little less like they were about to burn their way out of his chest, he took a last sweep of the darkened alley and got ready to move out. Unfolding from his crouch, he sprinted for the exit, keeping close to the wall as he rounded the corner.

And ran full speed into the man waiting for him on the other side.

There was no time to curse his bad luck as they hit the ground. Instead, he bit his lip to muffle the scream as his injured shoulder took the brunt of the impact. Not daring to stop and assess the damage, he rolled, coming up on top of his assailant, pinning him to the ground with his body weight as he brought his sidearm to bear one-handed. And froze.

Staring down the sights of his gun was the last person he expected. Long hair. Casual clothes. Keen eyes narrowed in an expression of imminent violence that would send a lesser man running for cover. Despite the job gone belly up, Quinn couldn’t help the pleasure unfurling in his gut. If he played his cards right, maybe he wasn’t completely fucked after all.

Quinn slowly withdrew his gun, careful to telegraph non-aggression as he put it back into the holster at his shoulder.

Eliot Spencer eyed him for a long moment. Until finally, with a twitch of lips, he pulled back the knife poised to strike Quinn in a very private and painful place. Quinn’s eyes widened when he saw the blade was his own, pulled from his ankle sheath without him feeling a damn thing. And here he thought Eliot Spencer was the type to fight fair. The man was just full of surprises. The warmth in Quinn’s gut flared and spread at the thought.

The hint of a smile curled around Eliot’s lips, and just like that the moment snapped, disappearing as quickly as it came. Quinn stood and offered a hand.

Eliot took it, letting himself be pulled to his feet. “Quinn,” he greeted.

“Eliot.”

“Bad day?”

“Getting better.”

The merriment faded as Eliot gave him a more thorough onceover. He twirled the knife once, offering it hilt first. “Looks like you need this more than me.”

Quinn tucked the weapon away, happy to have the familiar weight back where it belonged. His eyes scanned the tops of the nearby buildings for movement before refocusing on Eliot. He was running out of time. “I didn’t realize you were coming to my party.”

“My invitation must’ve got lost in the mail.” Eliot eyed the angry red slash at the shoulder of Quinn’s suit jacket. A misstep he was still paying for. “Your friends don’t seem very nice, though.”

Quinn’s response was cut off by the sound of heavy footfalls.

Between the both of them, it didn’t take long to clean house. Soon they were the only ones standing amidst a sea of unconscious hitmen. Quinn would have preferred them dead—dead men couldn’t get back up and come after you again, or report to their boss about your unexpected new ally—but Eliot had knocked his hand askew when he’d lined up the first headshot, growling something about no killing. Quinn fell into line. If that was the price to pay for Eliot Spencer’s assistance, so be it. What the two of them had done in forty-five minutes would’ve taken him all night to do alone, and he might not have finished before getting himself killed.

Besides, Quinn could always kill the hired guns later if they made the mistake of coming after him again.

It had been good, working with another professional. At times like this, Quinn could maybe see why Eliot settled down with a team. Not that he had any intention of doing so himself. It had been pretty clear on the Dubenich job that Eliot trusted his people unconditionally; Quinn didn’t have anyone like that in his life. It was better that way.

For now, he was happy to hole up in a dingy motel under one of his more obscure aliases. Whoever set him up was still out there, no doubt hiring more people at this very moment, and until Quinn’s contacts came back with more information, he was happy to wait it out in relative safety. His next move was going to depend on whether this was an independent hit or if his employer had double-crossed him. He suspected the latter.

After double checking the room’s only door and window, he shrugged out of his jacket, hissing through his teeth as the motion reopened the wound in his shoulder. He fumbled at his tie one-handed. His shirt followed shortly after, landing in a heap on the bed beside the rest. The slight chill in the room prickled at his skin, one more item on the list of discomforts he was ignoring.

“Still here, huh?” he asked the silent figure by the window.

Once all the hired guns were too busy napping to run amok in the city streets, he half-expected Eliot to bail. Instead, he’d stuck close, watching Quinn’s back as he picked up shell casings, rifled through his assailants’ pockets, and finally holed up for the night. He couldn’t quite decipher if the other hitter was being friendly, weirdly protective of Quinn’s injured state, or if he figured out that Quinn had half a mind to break into the local police station and make sure all the hired thugs they’d taken down reached a more permanent end.

Whatever the reason, Eliot was still here, peering steadily through a crack in the window curtains. Quinn wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or annoyed. Instead he asked, “You staying all night?”

Eliot spared Quinn a glance before going back to his vigil of the street. “Got nowhere else to be.”

Quinn rubbed at his bare arms and settled for mildly grateful but cautious. “Thought your team would be waiting for you or something.”

“We ain’t all joined at the hip, you know,” Eliot answered, a thread of affection buried under the gruffness. “I like to head on out every once in a while. Wasn’t expecting to run into a street war on my time off.”

“Looks like I owe you the favor, then.” Normally, Quinn resisted the idea of being in debt, but he couldn’t deny the flush of warmth at the thought of Eliot Spencer calling on him sometime down the line. Quinn had always been a little bit of an idiot for a pretty face.

He was halfway through a shrug before thinking better of it. His shoulder was a raw mass of pain now that the adrenaline was wearing off. Every breath felt like a red-hot lance through the wound.

“Want me to take a look at that?” Eliot asked, correctly reading the pinched lines of his face.

Quinn paused, already halfway to the tiny bathroom. It was barely more than a toilet and a shower, both of which had seen better days, but it had running water and that was enough. “I’ve got it.”

“Gonna be a bitch to stitch that up one handed.”

“Yet somehow I always manage.”

Eliot shrugged, not turning away from his post. “Suit yourself, man. Give a holler if you change your mind.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. Twenty minutes later, sitting hunched on the dirty toilet seat and trying to tie off a knot with one hand and his teeth, he was maybe beginning to regret not taking Eliot up on his offer. Pausing to catch his breath, he cursed the wound, this job, his (probably) turncoat of an employer, and everything in between. His shoulder throbbed in time with his heart, which almost stopped as a silhouette suddenly filled the tiny bathroom doorframe. His hand was at his hip for a gun he wasn’t carrying before he recognized it as Eliot.

Quinn frowned. “Who’s watching the street?”

“If they haven’t showed by now they aren't coming.”

“Or they’re waiting for us to get complacent.”

“Then stop screwing around and get out here. You can watch the street while I fix this mess you call stitches.”

“They’re functional,” Quinn protested. “Doesn’t have to win any knitting awards.”

“Functional, huh? If that’s what you’re calling that mess, I’m gonna have to seriously reevaluate what I think of your skillset.” Eliot huffed and shook his head, then swiped an errant strand of hair from his eyes. “I won’t even count how that’s so far from pretty, it makes ugly look good. Come on, Huckleberry, let me patch you up.”

Using the dumb nickname Quinn had thrown out in a moment of adrenaline-fueled weakness wasn’t playing fair. But he was too tired to keep arguing, and so he let Eliot lead him back to the pair of armchairs by the room’s only window, perfectly angled as to be out of sight from any outside observers.

He kept his eyes trained on the crack in the window while Eliot hovered over him and fixed up his stitches in the dim light filtering in from the street lamps. The scratchy fabric of the chair itched against his bare back, and he focused on that rather than the unpleasant pinch and pull of his shoulder being mended. Eliot’s hands were hot on his skin and despite the pain, Quinn found himself relaxing.

When it was done, Eliot cleaned the blood from Quinn’s shoulder with a scratchy hotel towel and went to wash his hands while Quinn redressed in his soiled shirt and jacket. “Get some sleep. I’ll take first watch,” he offered when he was done, settling back into the hideously ugly chair by the edge of the window.

Quinn laughed. “Real cute.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Eliot to guard them both. Hell, he had no problem with Eliot keeping guard while he’d been cleaning up in the bathroom. But there was a world of difference between letting someone have your back while you were all there, and trusting someone to watch over you while you were slow and heavy with sleep.

The only person Quinn trusted like that was himself. He didn’t need to say it out loud, though. The look in Eliot’s eyes said he understood just fine.

What was left of the night passed in mutual silence, both of them on guard against the world.

Their patience paid off. Right before sunup, they both jerked to attention, noticing the same movement in the orange rays of early morning light. If whoever was creeping towards their room was expecting them to be caught off guard, they were in for a nasty surprise.

Quinn grinned like a shark and reached for his gun.

When none of their assailants were left standing (shot in the knee, courtesy of Quinn, and handed over to the federal authorities, courtesy of Eliot over Quinn’s fervent objections) all that adrenaline building since the previous night only had one place to go.

Looking back, he wasn’t sure who made the first move, him or Eliot. But it ended up with them back at Eliot’s place, their hands in each other’s hair and their mouths crushed together as they fell into bed. Casual touches and play-fighting quickly turned into something more heated and deliberate. Soon enough, Quinn found himself without his clothes and his weapons, Eliot’s teeth grazing his throat and his rough hands pinching along his inner thighs. Blunt nails raked down his stomach and Quinn arched up into it for more. And how delightful to discover firsthand that Eliot’s gravel-rough voice got ever rougher when Quinn held him down and kept him writhing on the edge.

When it was all over, they were tangled together across the dark blue sheets of Eliot’s safe house, struggling to catch their breath. Quinn felt his eyes grow heavy as the past couple days finally caught up with him. And that’s where he drew the line. Sleeping with Eliot was one thing; actual sleeping was a line he wasn’t willing to cross.

Not with Eliot, not with anyone. He’d learned that one the hard way.

“You leaving?”

Quinn paused with one leg in his suit pants and bit down the sarcastic reply about Eliot’s keen observation skills. He was almost surprised to find that his smile was genuine. “Thanks for the good time.”

Eliot nodded and Quinn finished redressing. He headed for the door, but Eliot’s voice stopped him as he was about to walk out.

“I’m too wired to sleep. Thought I’d make some coffee. Maybe check on the tomatoes in the garden. You’re welcome to stay for a cup.” Not bothering to wait for answer, he rolled out of bed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the large wooden dresser in the corner. He didn’t bother with a shirt and Quinn allowed himself a moment to appreciate the view.

He could picture the scene as clear as day. Lounging on the couch in borrowed sweatpants that weren’t quite long enough to reach his ankles. Sipping coffee and watching Eliot work shirtless on the back patio, the late afternoon sun washing warm across the naked skin of his back and highlighting his hair with gold. Pulling Eliot down on top of him afterwards until they were both sweaty and sated all over again. Falling asleep in his bed.

He should go. That much was obvious. Working with Eliot on business, indulging in sex with Eliot—that was all standard fare. Practically a perk of the job. But this? An invitation to stay in each other’s company like they were anything other than sort-of colleagues and occasional allies.

Now that was dangerous.

For all the dark rumors of his past, Eliot was a bonafide good guy now. How long until he remembered that Quinn was still taking the kinds of jobs he’d long since washed his hands of. As much as he liked the guy and could rely on him to have his back on a job or against a mutual enemy, Quinn could never fully trust him. He would be an idiot to forget that.

So, he shook his head and locked away the sliver of regret that slipped past his defenses. “Maybe next time,” he lied, straightening his tie so he wouldn’t have to look Eliot in the eye.

(The next several times they fell into bed—a combination of planned meets and one uncomfortable instance when they’d both been trailing the same mark—Eliot never repeated his offer to stay afterwards.

Quinn was grateful for it.)

Quinn liked working the occasional job for Eliot and his strange team. There were several reasons, but it all boiled down to three main things.

The first being that it was a nice change not to worry about being double-crossed when it came time to collect his fee. Not that he couldn’t handle that kind of trouble when it happened (“The perils of being a freelancer,” he’d told the last person to try that on him, right before putting a bullet in his head), or that he didn’t still plan for it, but it was like a little vacation to be able to wrap up a job without any dramatics. Quinn liked clean and tiny.

Second was that Eliot never asked for more than Quinn was physically capable of delivering. He was good at what he did, but even he’d go down if someone threw enough armed men his way. It worried him sometimes just how well Eliot knew his strength and his limits, but he consoled himself with the fact that his knowledge of Eliot ran just as deep.

Last and most fun was what Quinn considered his personal bonus of a job well done. Namely, that Eliot was great in bed.

They were at the safe house Quinn had procured for the week, celebrating the successful completion of doing bad things for a good cause. Quinn, his bank account newly full and wearing nothing but a smile, dangled the cuffs Eliot had pretended to slap onto him earlier as part of the con they’d run. “Looks like it’s finally my turn to put these to good use.”

“Nice try,” Eliot said, grabbing the cuffs and casually dropping them over the side of the bed. “Not gonna happen.”

Quinn pouted. He didn’t think Eliot was going to go for it but it was worth a try. With a dirty smile, he shifted his hips where he straddled Eliot’s lap on the bed. The friction made them both groan, so Quinn did it again, watching the tension slide from Eliot’s face as pleasure took its place.

“I let you put them on me,” Quinn countered, hands sliding along the sweat-slick skin of Eliot’s chest.

Eliot caught his hands. “And I didn’t lock them tight enough to keep you from slipping free.” His fingers clamped down on Quinn’s wrists. Like the cuffs from earlier, they weren’t nearly tight enough to keep him contained if he chose otherwise.

He didn’t choose otherwise. He did, however, concede the point.

Eliot slid his hands up Quinn’s arms, lacing his fingers together behind Quinn’s neck to pull him down. It was easy to let himself be reeled in, to let Eliot flip their positions in a move that was telegraphed slowly enough that Quinn could have countered it any time he wanted.

(Again, he didn’t.)

There was a fine line between fantasy and accidentally triggering the defensive actions Quinn had spent the better part of his life honing. Eliot rode that line with the same skill he did everything else, pinning Quinn with enough force to be real but not enough to make him feel trapped. It was nice, the weight of Eliot pressing heavy on his limbs. There weren’t very many people capable of keeping him down if he didn’t want to be down but Eliot had more than a passing shot of making it happen. He’d done it before, back when they weren’t anything more than two hitters on opposite ends of a job.

A rush of heat raced down Quinn’s spine and he grabbed a fistful of Eliot’s loose hair, arching his hips up until they were pressed together from head to toe. Eliot slipped a leg between Quinn’s, fanning the spark of heat into a raging fire until it was all he could think about.

Six hours later, in a business class seat somewhere over the Pacific, Quinn set aside the last lingering thoughts of Eliot Spencer and got his head back in the game.

There was someone in his hotel room.

Quinn had a fair idea who it was (he practically sent an engraved invitation, after all) but that was no reason to be stupid. All hitters came to end in an some kind of ugly fashion and Quinn had made his peace with that, but when it happened to him it wasn’t going to be because he was stupid.

Silently, he pulled his backup gun from the small of his back. Taking a last look down the hall to ensure he was alone, he opened the door with the electronic keycard, ducked, and burst into the room gun first.

The precaution was unnecessary.

“No word from you in months and this is the greeting I get? I’m beginning to think you don’t like me anymore.” Eliot detached himself from where he was pressed up against the far corner, partially hidden by the faux cherry wood armoire holding the room’s entertainment center. He gestured towards Quinn and the gun, the muzzle now pointing at the floor.

“Worried I don’t like you anymore? Do I need to check a box for yes or no and pass the note back?”

Eliot raised an eyebrow. “Were you always this juvenile or is it a recent development?”

“You bring out the best in me.”

Setting aside the handgun on the nearest bedside table, Quinn carefully shrugged out of his worn leather jacket. It felt a little strange to not be wearing the suit around Eliot, but he wasn’t here for a job so there was no need to dress the part. He winced as the movement pulled at his back, quickly hiding it behind a lazy grin.

Narrowed eyes appraised him from head to toe and Quinn stilled. It was instinctive. Never let anyone know where the weak spots were. Any known injury could be used against you in a fight. It was a dumb thing to stick to in front of a guy he planned on getting naked with pretty soon, but Quinn never claimed not to be a creature of habit.

Eliot straightened, gaze turning leering and playful as he shook his hair out of his face. “I like the new outfit. Not a bad look on you.”

It was a safe topic, and as a close to an outright declaration that Eliot wasn’t going to press for details.

The knot between Quinn’s shoulder blades eased and he let his arms relax at his sides. Pushing the dark thoughts from his mind, he started unbuttoning his shirt. “I didn’t come here for fashion tips.”

“Well then,” Eliot drawled, stepping into his space and brushing Quinn’s hands aside to finish the job himself. “That’s good ‘cause I didn’t come here to give them.”

He never could figure out how much of Eliot’s midwestern charm was affectation verses actual upbringing. But as those rough hands swept over his chest with each opened button, he decided that he didn’t much care either way. Taking full advantage of his hands being unoccupied, he quickly fumbled Eliot’s belt open, popping every damn button on his inconvenient button fly jeans on his way downward.

They moved to the bed by unspoken agreement, hands scrabbling to cast aside the last of their clothes, mouths hot on each other’s skin. Fuck, he’d missed this. Well, he’d missed a lot of things these past several months, but he’d really missed this.

He’d missed Eliot’s broad hands pressing into the dip of his hips to hold him down, and the taste of his skin when Quinn traced lines into the muscles of Eliot’s stomach with his tongue. He’d almost forgot how It felt to press Eliot’s legs apart and take him into his mouth, watching beneath his lashes as Eliot fisted one hand into the sheets and the other into Quinn’s ponytail. He missed coming apart under someone’s hands in a way that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with heat and desire.

Eliot didn’t say anything about the new marks on Quinn’s skin save for how he meticulously avoided digging his fingers into those particular spots. There was nothing to say; they both knew the risks of their occupation. Not every fight was a win.

Losing a fight was the last thing on Quinn’s mind as he finally pressed inside the heat of Eliot’s body. Beneath him, Eliot’s breath hitched and his legs wrapped tighter around Quinn’s waist, drawing him in further.

“Come on,” Eliot growled, pushing himself forward to bite at Quinn’s shoulder.

Quinn licked his lips and obliged, happy to lose himself in this for the time being.

Once they’d cleaned up and got comfortable under the duvet, Quinn trailed a lazy hand down Eliot’s arm. “How’d you know I’d be passing through here?” Not that he needed to ask, but he wanted to hear the answer anyway.

Eliot laughed, a low amused rumble. “You practically left me a calling card, man. How could I turn down an invitation like that?”

Quinn smiled, something warm uncurling in his belly. There was no job, no enemy, no reason for Eliot to be here. Except that Quinn asked him to come.

Eliot’s gravely voice broke him out of his thoughts. “So, should I be worried about identity theft, here? First you grow your hair long after I kick your ass. Then you—”

“Hell of an ego you got there, pal,” Quinn cut in. “My hair has nothing to do with you.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Eliot shot back with a smile. “Anyway, you entered the freaking country under my favorite alias. Did you expect me not to notice?”

He’d counted on it.

Quinn rolled to his side and slung an arm across Eliot’s chest. “Thought all that hair might’ve finally rotted your brain,” he mumbled. “And anyway, it wasn’t your name.”

“Just ‘cause you rearranged the letters don’t mean it ain’t still mine.”

“It’s a real alias. And it got your attention didn’t it.”

Instead of answering, Eliot reached over to grab Quinn’s leg and hitch it over his hip to tangle with his own. “Damn, you’re heavy,” he teased as they resettled.

“I work out,” Quinn agreed with a lazy smile, letting himself be maneuvered.

It was pleasant to be sprawled across Eliot like this, to feel the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. He’d debated for weeks about using that particular alias after the job in Jakarta. It felt too much like running to safety for his liking, and so when the thought had first crossed his mind, he hightailed it to the most dirty, corrupt corner of the world he could find instead. Took every job that came his way until they all blurred together.

When the dust settled and he’d still wanted to see Eliot, he let himself use the identity that would no doubt raise every red flag in the Leverage team’s playbook. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that leaving a trail for Eliot to follow was the right move, but the sex was great and the company wasn’t awful so he was calling it a win.

One of Eliot’s fingers stroked a steady back and forth along the patch of skin just under Quinn’s shoulder blade, skirting the edge of what had been one of the deeper wounds on his back. Serrated knife, he remembered. He’d screamed—he remembered that, too—screamed until his voice had gone hoarse.

He felt the intake of breath a split second before Eliot’s voice broke the silence.

“They dead?” The words were growled in a way Quinn had only ever heard in an empty airport hangar, when he was the one standing between Eliot and his team.

Raising his head from its place on Eliot’s chest, Quinn looked him in the eye. “Yes.” He paused, remembering how Eliot almost knocked the gun from his hand the last time he tried to kill someone. “If you have a problem with that, you can see yourself out.”

But Eliot didn’t leave. Or ask who they were or how long they had him or what they’d wanted. Hell, Eliot had gotten his hands dirty enough back before he’d turned white-hat that could fill in the details on his own.

After a moment, Eliot gave him a tight smile and nodded.

Quinn didn’t know what to do with that, so he just laid his head back on Eliot’s chest and closed his eyes. For the first time in a long time he wanted to throw out all his old rules and let himself drift off to sleep. Against all odds and good sense, Eliot had somehow wormed his way under his skin.

This is why he shouldn’t have used the alias.

Nothing between them had changed; Quinn was still a bad guy and Eliot wasn’t. There was no silencing the voice in the back of his head shouting how it was only a matter of time before Eliot remembered what kind of person Quinn really was. Maybe he’d decide Quinn was better off in jail, or thrown to rot in some deep dark government hole, rather than be allowed to roam free and do what he did. Lulled into complacency by sleep and trust, Quinn would be a pathetically easy target.

In the end, caution won out.

It didn’t escape his notice that although Eliot’s eyes were closed, he hadn’t let himself fall into sleep either.

Taking a job in Portland had the potential to go all kinds of wrong, but wasn't that half the fun? But the money was good, and he wasn’t one to turn down a sizable fee. Predictably, it got him tangled up in one of Eliot’s cons. Not so predictably, the whole thing went off relatively smoothly. Before he knew it, he was invited to a post-victory dinner with Eliot’s team and not long after that found the two of them tangled up in Eliot’s bedsheets.

Once they caught their breath, Eliot propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at him. “Would you tell me if you were gonna take a hit on me or my team?”

“If this is your idea of sweet nothings, it’s no wonder all those women you’re rumored to sleep with only do it once.”

“Hey, I never had any complaints.” Eliot flicked at Quinn’s nose, but his wrist was caught before it could connect. His other hand shot out and Quinn caught that too. Eliot didn’t resist as Quinn rolled them until he was looking at Eliot spread out beneath him.

The playful spark faded from Eliot’s pretty blue eyes. “I’m serious, Quinn. Would you tell me?”

Most people couldn’t pull off an intimidating scowl while naked and pinned by the wrists to their own bed. Then again, Eliot wasn’t most people.

Quinn considered. It was a fair question. The truth was, he wouldn’t accept a hit on Eliot, at any price. And anyone who came to him with one wouldn’t stay breathing much longer. He couldn’t say the same for Eliot’s team, however. He liked them, they were smart, deadly competent, and occasionally funny, but they weren’t Eliot. But they were important to Eliot and, when he stopped to think about it, that was apparently enough for Quinn.

“I’m not taking any hits on you or your people. Not now and not ever.”

All it earned him was a nod.

Quinn put the pieces together. “You already knew. So, why’d you ask?”

“Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it.” In one smooth motion, Eliot extricated his arms and rolled out from under Quinn. “That’s a long timeframe for that kind of promise."

“If I change my mind, I’ll be sure to give you fair warning.” In an echo of their first meeting as allies rather than adversaries, Quinn held out his hand. “Deal?”

Eliot grinned, clearly remembering the same dirty warehouse in Kiev. “Deal,” he said, and they shook.

Quinn braced for the inevitable sneak attack in retaliation for his earlier move, but Eliot seemed satisfied to let it lie. Resting back against the pillows, he resembled a large jungle cat, content and sated with the world. His hair was loose around his face, disheveled from their slight tussle.

Taking his cue, Quinn settled back against his pillows too, feeling like he’d accomplished something but not sure exactly what. He spun the thought around in his mind, poking at it over and over before giving it up as a lost cause. It would come eventually, it always did. Didn’t mean he liked waiting for it though.

It wasn’t until he heard the breathing beside him even out that he realized Eliot was asleep.

For a moment, he just froze in surprise. If Eliot was awake, he’d probably make some dumbass comment about catching flies. Or maybe a dirty joke about what else Quinn could do with his mouth. He did neither.

In his sleep, he was as restless and grouchy as he was while awake, forehead scrunching and nose twitching every once in a while. One hand was balled in a fist where it rested on top of the covers against Quinn’s leg. There was something comfortable in that, in knowing that Eliot didn’t turn into something drastically different just because he was asleep. Which brought Quinn to his current problem. If there was one thing he hated, it was a puzzle whose pieces didn’t fit. Aside from his fists and his guns, information was the other stock in trade that kept him alive and ahead of his enemies.

Was that all it took for Eliot to trust him? A promise that he wouldn’t go after Eliot or his team. Quinn had specified nothing about not going after him for any non-job-related reasons. Eliot was smart enough to know the distinction. The more he thought about it the more it didn’t make sense. Eliot knew exactly what kind of man Quinn was. Right now he could do anything, anything, to a sleeping Eliot and without that split second of reaction time consciousness gave him, he could inflict serious damage.

Before he knew what he was doing, he shook Eliot by the shoulder.

Eliot snapped awake in an instant, eyes scanning the room. That bright gaze fixed on Quinn when no threat popped out of the shadows, and the tension bled out of him. “The hell? What is it, Quinn?”

“I didn’t stop doing my job when I started sleeping with you.” It wasn’t what he meant to say but fuck if he knew what that was. He’d reacted and now he was running on instinct. And the jarring feeling of something poking at the inside of his chest, desperately clawing its way out into the open air.

Eliot blinked and squinted at Quinn. “You think I don’t know that?”

“Do you? Do you really? And you expect me to believe it’s not a problem for you?”

“Won’t say I like it. But until you do something that crosses my path, then I can live with it. Besides, I got it on good authority that most of the people you go after are scumbags in their own right.”

Most, but not all.

Quinn looked him in the eye. “And when they aren’t?” Because he needed to say it, to see Eliot’s reaction.

“What you said earlier. About fair warning.” Eliot put a hand on his leg. “It goes both ways, you know. If we have a problem, we’ll deal with it. I’m not coming after you in the middle of the night.”

Quinn tilted his head, studying Eliot. He had on his serious face, mouth set in a tight line and a little crease right between his eyebrows. He stared at Quinn like he half expected him to bolt and half expected him to fight.

Truth was, Quinn didn’t want to do either of those things. Eliot’s bed was comfortable and Quinn was tired. This was usually the part of the night where he put his clothes on and slipped back into his life. The pull of that was strong, but there was a part deep inside him that felt hollow at the thought of giving up whatever this thing with Eliot was.

In the end, he could either trust Eliot or he couldn’t.

It sent a cold chill racing down his spine. He wasn’t sure he even knew how to give that kind of trust anymore, against all the instincts that kept him alive. But he wanted. Wanted so badly he could taste it in the back of his throat. He glanced up at the ceiling as if the answers were somewhere in the expanse of dim white. As expected, they weren’t. Just a few streaks of plaster covering what must have been the remnants of old cracks. Quinn let his eyes trace over them, mind following not far behind, circling an answer he knew was inevitable but wasn’t sure he was ready to admit.

He sat up, the blankets pooling around his waist.

“You asked me a question, now it’s my turn.” Quinn didn’t bother to wait for Eliot’s nod. “Why’d you let me go?” He wasn’t exactly sure why he was asking, other than the fact that it had been burning a hole in his mind for years.

The corners of Eliot’s mouth pulled down. He propped himself up on his elbows, head cocked. “What’re you talking about?”

“When we met that first time. The hangar. You had me down. Why’d you let me go?”

Eliot snorted, like Quinn was asking an easy question, like he should have been able to work it out himself. He always was a bit of an asshole, which was part of why Quinn liked him. “Sterling wouldn’t have told you anything about his plans for us. He’s a pain in the ass but he’s a smart pain in the ass.” Eliot paused, his expression pinched. “Don’t you ever tell him I said that.”

Quinn nodded solemnly despite the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “On my word.”

Eliot smiled back before turning serious again. “Even if you had the information I needed, I was on a tight schedule. You’re too much of a pro to break easy and I didn’t have that kind of time to burn.”

Quinn nodded at the assessment but couldn’t help pressing. “I wasn’t just referring to information, you know.”

“You mean, why didn’t I torture you for getting the jump on me. For that payback you were so sure I was looking for in Kiev?”

Quinn trailed a finger along Eliot’s chest in an idle, invisible pattern. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Eliot looked up at him. “You know, your pillow talk really sucks, man.”

“Never had any complaints before. Then again, usually I just get up and leave.” He ran a hand down Eliot’s side to take the sting out of the words.

“Don’t I know it.”

For a moment Eliot just looked at him. Quinn stared back. They were both comfortable in silence, and Quinn wondered if they might spend the rest of the evening like this. There were worse ways to spend the night, he figured.

Finally, Eliot sighed, running a hand across his face. “I had more important things on my mind.”

“Ah yes, saving the team. They were family even back then, weren’t they?”

Eliot nodded once before settling on his back. After a moment, Quinn did the same, their shoulders brushing. They stared at the ceiling for a moment before Eliot spoke again. “It ain’t just them, you know. If some punk upstart hitter was between me and you, I’d drop him in a heartbeat..”

Quinn rolled, straddling Eliot’s hips in one swift motion. Leaning in, he placed his hands on the bed so they bracketed Eliot’s head. “A punk upstart hitter?”

He could feel Eliot’s chest vibrate with laughter, rich and low. “Quinn, man, your hair was gelled. And I’m pretty sure you had frosted tips like some boy band wannabe.”

“Since when are you the expert in boy bands? And what the hell are frosted tips? I don’t even know what that means.”

“I dated a hairdresser once.” Eliot gave a playful tug to the loose strands around Quinn’s face, down from their usual ponytail. “And it means I like it better long.”

With that, Eliot swept Quinn’s arms from under him. Quinn let him, not bothering to catch himself as he fell against Eliot’s bare chest.

To his surprise, settling back down at Eliot's side wasn’t nearly as difficult as expected this time around.

Eliot followed him, clicking the bedside lamp off and shifting to throw an arm over Quinn’s chest. “Now, we done here, or do you wanna keep talking all night? Maybe braid each other’s hair while we’re at it.” The words were barely audible, muttered into Quinn’s shoulder.

Quinn rested his free hand against the dip of Eliot’s back and let his eyes fall closed.

[psycho-slytherin]

Strangers ch. 38

Surprising the boys for dinner doesn’t quite go as planned.

Pairing: Yoongi x Actress!Reader

Word count: 2k

Genre: fluff, angst

|mlist|

<–– Prev   Next ––>

Yoongi clears his throat, leaning against the doorframe. His hair is messy, his pale cheeks tinged red. “I mean… What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“Th-the door was unlocked,” you breathe, feeling as though you walked in on him doing something a lot more intimate than recording. His appearance does not help. If you hadn’t just heard him rapping, you’d think he was, well… “I- you said we could do dinner.”

“And you said probably not, so we figured you were busy. We have the night off, the guys are all out…” Yoongi looks around as though hoping one of the members will pop out of the woodwork. 

“Oh.” You get the hint– clearly he wants you to leave. “Sorry. I’ll be going, then–”

“Ah, shit. Sorry, no, you don’t have to.” Yoongi scratches his head. “I just wasn’t expecting- I mean, I look like a mess-”

You laugh, reaching up to ruffle his hair further. “You look like you’ve spent hours in this studio. It’s a cute aesthetic, though. Your fans would go crazy over it.”

“Does that include you?” Yoongi replies, now back to his teasing self.

You feel your heartbeat quicken. “Nah. Anyways, I should be going–” 

“Hey, wait.” Yoongi tugs at your arm as you turn to leave. “Stay. I don’t mind. Maybe you’ll inspire-” he shuts up, pressing his lips together.

“Maybe I’ll what?”

“Nothing. Are you hungry? I’m starved, let’s order pizza.”

“Sounds good,” You reply, following him to the living room. “Hey, are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” Yoongi raises a brow. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

“I mean, we’re alone…” 

Yoongi laughs. “Are you worried about the paparazzi? They can’t get up here, it’s okay. Besides, we are supposed to be dating.”

You relax a bit. In truth, you were nervous that he’d think it improper to hang out alone, especially now that you’re single again. You should have known– of course it wouldn’t be an issue, he only sees you as one of the guys. Almost to underline your insecurities, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the living room mirror: bundled up in all your layers, you look like a potato with legs. Of course. Surrounded by beautiful idols every day, it makes sense that Yoongi would barely consider you a girl. 

You blink hard, forcing yourself back into Friend Mode. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” You race to snag the comfiest armchair, Yoongi’s favorite, for yourself. “A girl needs her pizza!”

Yoongi orders and returns to the living room, sticking his tongue out at you when he realizes where you’ve sat. “So how have you been?” he asks, stretching out on the couch.

You yawn. “Since I last saw you? Just did some Moon Over the Sea filming and the cologne shoot.”

“Oh yeah, how’d those go?”

You think of being brought to tears during filming at the thought of Yoongi being gone from your life. Of Jeongyeon commenting on how you and Yoongi would never stay together, how you’re hardly a couple at all. Of sitting on Wonho’s lap, half-clothed, your lips brushing his skin. “Fine. How about you?”

“Pretty good. Promotions went well, our Japanese fans really liked the new song. We won three awards, which is nice.”

“Wow, we stan global superstars,” you laugh, and Yoongi draws himself up. 

“No need to sound so sarcastic.”

“I’m your friend, darling. I’m literally the only one allowed to sound sarcastic. Y’all are killing it, everyone knows that.” You flop upside down, letting your legs dangle off one arm of the chair while your head rests on the other. “Hey, what were you recording just now?”

Yoongi freezes. “What? You heard it?”

“Not the whole thing, just a bit of your sixteenth or seventeenth or whateverteenth take,” you snicker. “And it was good, really good.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Can I listen to the rest of it?”

Yoongi coughs. “Nah, I don’t think you’d like it. I don’t know if I’ll include it in the mixtape anyways; I think I was just venting into the mic.”

“Isn’t that how all the best diss tracks are made? I remember listening to Cypher 2 and just about dying during your verse.”

“It’s not really a diss track…”

You sit up. “Really? It sounded so angry.”

“Yeah, well, I was feeling angry.”

“Why?”

A knock at the door interrupts your conversation. “Oh, pizza’s here,” Yoongi says, rising. He returns a few minutes later with a large veggie pizza. The smell makes your mouth water– you didn’t realize how hungry you were. 

“Fucking yes. Ugh. Food. Yes. Give.” You reach out and take Yoongi’s offered slice, almost moaning when you take your first bite. You’ve been on edge all day– and if anxiety burned calories, you’d be on par with the Flash this week.

“No need to sound so turned on,” Yoongi laughs. “You’re worse than Seokjin hyung.”

“You’re just jealous that the pizza’s getting more action from your girlfriend than you are,” 

Yoongi coughs. “Keep talking like that and we’ll forget that this whole relationship is fake, y/n.”

“Heh, my bad.” You were just joking, but the discomfort in Yoongi’s voice… did you take it too far? Your friendship has always been dumb, and a little flirtatious, but now that you’re actually supposed to be together, it makes sense that Yoongi wants to draw a few hard lines in the sand. He’s right, things can’t get too blurry. He’s right, you’re not really dating. He’s right. 

It’s not real.

And hey, why would you even want it to be real? If you fell for Yoongi, it would be like admitting that all along, you really were just a fangirl, just another ARMY obsessed with BTS’ Suga. 

Besides, even if I did like him, you think ruefully, he probably wouldn’t believe me. It’s not like you have any trust left in the bank. Man, you’ve gotta work on being a better friend.

Speaking of… 

You look around and click your tongue. “Dammit. I was hoping to see Jimin tonight, Lisa wanted another video of him.”

“He can just send you something later.” Yoongi turns on the TV and tosses you a blanket. “Here, I know you’re cold. And hey, are you sure Lisa’s not posting those videos anywhere?”

You shake your head. “I follow her on all her socials. I definitely would’ve seen it if she had. Besides, I trust her.” Sure, she’s been a little absent these last few days, but she’s still Lisa, your best friend. Now that you think of it, her birthday is coming up– maybe you’ll arrange a video call with Jimin for her?

“Aight.” Yoongi flicks off the lights and grabs for the remote. “What do you want to watch?”

You chew on your pizza crust thoughtfully. “La La Land?”

The rapper snorts. “Really?”

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for well-spoken pianists. And fast rises to fame.”

“And here I thought you would’ve wanted a happy ending. I mean, the musician doesn’t even end up with the actress.”

“Happy endings are for suckers.” You press a hand to your forehead, dragging out your words dramatically. “You don’t understand me, Mom. Emotions aren’t real. Nothing matters, life is meaningless.”

“Oh god, you usually don’t bring out Emo Y/n until you’re at least two drinks in,” Yoongi groans good-naturedly.

You laugh, sitting back up. “Just play the damn movie, dumbass.”

The opening to Another Day of Sun starts playing, and… is it your imagination, or is Yoongi tapping along, as though it’s his hands at the keyboard?

Dork. You allow yourself a small smile in the dark room. If someone had told you, just a year ago, that you would be having movie nights with BTS’s Suga, acting alongside your ultimate idol, and– even just in character– kissing said idol, you would’ve thought they were batshit insane. 

But now… Yoongi’s so pretty, in a thousand ways you never noticed through your screen. The timber of his voice when he wakes up with a hangover, the surprised delight of a particularly good pun, the sleepy whispers during your late-night phone calls. You would never have known that when he’s stressed, he clenches his fists so tightly his nails leave crescent moons on his palms. You could only have guessed at how much he swears in real life, how when he’s recording in his studio he leaves his phone in his room to avoid distractions. 

The members are good at meshing their onstage and offstage personalities, sure. But Yoongi and Suga are like day and night to you now.

“I’m so lucky,” you murmur, as Emma Stone twirls happily in her yellow dress. 

“Where did that come from?” Yoongi asks, tossing a pillow at you. You bat at it lazily, only half watching the movie.

“It’s just pretty crazy, huh? How far we’ve come?”

“Psh, that it is. Thank goodness your shoe broke that night.”

You lift your hand to your throat, rubbing the Starry Night charm on its new chain. “Thank goodness I told you the truth eventually.” And in that moment, with the movie on and the lights low, with your belly full and nighttime settling on the city, you feel equal parts strong and vulnerable. It’s always the dark with us, isn’t it?

“Fame, flashlight– gi-give it to me!”

“Gah!” You jump and fumble for your phone. Shit. Shit. Why wasn’t it on vibrate?

Yoongi, of course, bursts out laughing. “You’re kidding me. Y/n, that’s your ringtone?”

“Shut up,” you hiss, answering the call. You don’t like picking up unknown numbers, but it could be a job offer. “Hello?”

A deep voice you don’t recognize responds. “Hello, may I speak to l/n y/n?”

“This is she.”

“My name is Detective Kang, with the Seoul Police Department. I need to interview you here at the station at your earliest convenience. Would you be able to come in tonight, or perhaps tomorrow?”

Your heart seems to pause. “Police?” You immediately think back to all of your recent actions– you definitely paid for your groceries, and the rent, and the medicine for your injured leg. Hell, you haven’t so much as jaywalked in the last week. Did you accidentally break the law somehow?

On hearing your voice, Yoongi sits up. “Y/n? Is everything okay?”

“You’re not under any suspicion, ma’am,” Detective Kang continues. “We believe you may be able to contribute to a case. This will just be an interview– you’re not legally required to come in.”

“A case? But, um, how can I help?”

“Well, I’m with the Missing Persons division, and–”

A sense of dread fills your stomach and clouds your mind at the detective’s words. Missing Persons? What?

“-We hope you may be able to provide us with some insight as to the recent disappearance of Lalisa Manoban.”

Your heart, which was pounding hard in your chest, now seems to have left your body entirely.

“Lisa’s… missing?”

[amandayuebing]

My Life is Very Shoujo Manga, Chapter 30: "I want you to quit kendo”

In early December 2014, I was accepted for a part-time position as a paralegal at one of the boutique firms in the city. I had mixed feelings about the place, but felt comforted that a relatively young and friendly paralegal, Teddy, was around to help me that day. I learnt a lot from him. 

At lunch break, we grabbed lunch together at the Sussex Centre. I grabbed myself Korean cold noodles, and Teddy bought sushi. I asked him a bit more about work, and about his personal life. We found out we both went to the same university!

He asked me some personal questions back, such as my age and what university I went to. Turns out, we went to the same university! We also found out (unsurprisingly) that I was a little older than him. I could tell from his babyface, but he was apparently surprised because I looked younger. He thought I was his age. 

I thought Teddy was flirting with me a little, until he finally asked me, “such a smart and beautiful girl as yourself must already be taken, huh?”

“Yes, I am,” I giggled. “You’re so full of flattery, Teddy.”

“Damn, I knew it.” He sighed. “Well... let me know if any of your cute law school friends are single.”

“Specifically from law school? Hmm...” 

“Not necessarily specifically; just someone cute and intelligent, like you,” he winked.

"I mean, you sound picky,” I joked. “Let me have a think about it, and I’ll let you know.”

~~

Teddy and I ran errands through the city together since I was new, when the conversation moved onto pay. 

Teddy asked me, “why would someone as smart and capable as you work in a law firm like this?”

“What do you mean, Teddy? It seems like a pretty nice firm.”

“Well for starters, Sylvia told me not to discuss this with you, but we all don’t get paid very well.”

“Oh? As long as I’m not being paid under the award, I’m just happy to gain some experience. Depending on how things go, then I’ll decide whether or not I want to stay here long-term...” 

It felt a little uncomfortable discussing pay and long-term career plans with a colleague I had just met, on my first day. 

“Award...?” He gave me a knowing look, “Oh, boy... So naive. You think we get paid the award. Ha!”

“But it’s a law firm...? Unless you’re a volunteer where you don’t get paid, they have to pay us the award at minimum.”

“So you think you’re getting paid?”

“[Our employer] did ask me during my interview about my pay expectations. I told her I was expecting at least the award rate to begin with, and for it to increase commensurate with my experience, and she accepted that.”

“I’m sorry to dash your dreams but you’re probably not going to get paid that.”

~~

Turns out Teddy was nice enough to tell me this, because he would quit the same day I started because he knew he was being underpaid.

It also turns out that he was right, that at the end of my first day, I’d be asked about my pay expectations again, and told, “we really want you to work for us, but we can only offer [a pay rate that was under the award] to start with”. I would have to make the decision whether I would work there for experience sake, or re-enter the highly competitive job market to hunt for experience at a firm which would pay me correctly...  

By the way, when I did try to negotiate my pay with them by arguing that legally, I was either a volunteer or they would need to pay me according to the award, they tried to argue that there was no award, I made the decision not to take the job. What kind of law firm doesn’t know a legal services award exists...?

Although in hindsight, it seems like the obvious decision, at the time, it wasn’t as straightforward. I had spent a lot of time hunting for a job where I would gain the appropriate experience, and would help me pay my rent. Speaking to some of my friends at the time, they were shocked about my decision, as they would have happily taken my job. For a lot of us law students, experience was experience, and our casual or part-time jobs that paid money was something else. 

It turns out my dad wasn’t too impressed with my decision not to take the job, either. In fact, he was extremely upset, he brought up, amongst other things, about how he thought I should quit kendo. 

“What kind of girl does rough sports like that?! When you first started, I didn’t stop you because I knew as a beginner you wouldn’t be sparring. But I’m surprised you’ve continued, and I’m not happy for you to continue. I demand you quit.”

“Dad, kendo’s different from a sport. It’s a martial art... The point of kendo is not to injure your opponent... It’s about learning discipline. It’s helping with my confidence and assertiveness, and making friends from all different backgrounds. I think it’s been really beneficial for me... And it’s safe, for any genders.”

“No boy wants a girl who will continually be bruised and callused. I definitely wouldn’t date a girl like that--”

“Well, my boyfriend doesn’t happen to mind about kendo-related injuries--”

Oh god. God. Why did I--

“Boyfriend...?” My dad’s head slowly turned. 

His voice somehow seemed to have changed from angry to what sounded like hiding his excitement...? 

“You have a boyfriend now?” He asked, in the calmest voice he could manage.

“Yes. Tony. He doesn’t mind.”

“Oh, that’s good. But I still want you to quit kendo.”

[indieparker]

Unfair Part 1

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Soon...

Word Count: 1325

Author’s Notes: This first part takes place before the events of season 1. Some swearing, major angst.

Hawkins is the Worst. Plain and simple. Any other town would be better than this dingy crap hole in Indiana. The only thing that made this place better, was Mike’s party. They were the only interesting and consistent people in his life.

His parents were boring. His dad rarely pays any attention to his children. His mom is constantly talking with her friends on the phone. And neither one of them seem interested in the lives of Nancy and Mike. Holly is the main child who takes up all the attention.

No matter how he acts, he can’t get their attention. Sure, he wins science awards, but that doesn’t compare to Holly’s first words. When she took her first steps, his accomplishments seemed to go out the window. It’s not that they didn’t care about him, but they weren’t ever giving him the same attention as Holly.

Home life wasn’t what made Hawkins the worst. It certainly helped. School was the main contender for the worst place in Hawkins. It was, to say the least, a shithole.

Troy’s gang made school the worst. They teased him and his friends constantly. Never letting them catch a break. Some days it was passive, others it was full on abusive. Dustin had to go home one day with a concussion. Troy pushed him so hard onto the ground, he was absent for a week.

Mike tried to stay confident, after all Troy was just a mouth breather with as many brain cells as a toad. He stood up to him when he got the courage but the message never seemed to stick. Mike went home many days with cuts and bruises but never told an adult of his troubles. God only knows what Troy would do if any of them tattled.

Classes in school were boring(like much of the town), but there was one class that the party all had together, Mr. Clark's biology. It was the one place where they were allowed to be their nerdiest, because Mr. Clarke was just as nerdy as them(maybe even more).

Sometimes they would dissect frogs or learn about Photosynthesis, but it was always so much fun for the kids because they were able to be themselves without the evil deminor of Troy and his goons.

Av club was the second best thing at Hawkins Middle, however, their club was held in a broom closet. It was so small that they couldn’t fit most of their equipment in it.  Even though the room was small the memories held in it were bigger than the entire school. During AV, they would make school videos, record messages, and help people around the school with any technology problems.

Dustin and Lucas loved to mess around with the radios. Will loved to make stop motion videos with his drawings. They had the best times in that broom closet because it was their space. No one dared join the AV club because it declared you as a nerd. This was good in a sense that they were never interrupted. They always stayed together and trusted one another. The main slogan of their group was “Friends don’t Lie” which cemented their bonds and let them strust one another.

They not only hung out during School hours, but they spent almost all of their time in Mike’s basement. Since his parents never paid much attention to his shenanigans, he was able to transform the basement into a place for his friends to hang out, do homework, and more importantly, play Dungeons and Dragons.

The three best things about Hawkins are the Party, AV, and Dungeons and Dragons. They were the best parts of Mike's life, they never failed. His friends would play Dungeons and Dragons with the most spirit and heart which led to a better game. Av was one of the only ways to get him through the school day. These were the parts of his life that meant the most, everything else be damned(and it was).

Despite having the Party, he still believed his town was a shithole. Nothing happened. The sky stayed blue, it never snowed, and the morning announcements might have been about the average lawn growth in Hawkins. It seemed like he was put into the wrong place. Like he was lost in a sea of normal and was never able to get out. With only his 3 best friends swimming with him.

Though Mike felt this lost, life moved on. He still had school to go to, still had to deal with Troy, and still have his parents to live with. No matter how hard he wished, he was always in the same place, the same time, in the same town. It wasn’t all that bad. He would just spend more time with the party. More time with his friends, laughing, playing, and having fun was all he needed.

_______________________________________________________________

Mike was content for sometime. He didn’t long for another life or another story to live. Everything was good. Until one night, Mike was walking home from an AV club meeting. He had left his bike at home but now, he wished he hadn't.He trudged along the winding roads when, out from a corner, came Troy and his gang.

“Hey, Wheeler! Where you going Huh?” Troy approached Mike with a cocky step. He stopped only a few feet away from Mike. Mike stopped in his tracks. He didn’t want to get beat up. Everything was going so well. He just wanted to get home.

“I’m just trying to get home,” Mike said, trying to stand as confident as possible.

“Well, I don’t think that Frog Faces are allowed to walk the streets this late at night. Seems they usually go missing,” Troy said in an wicked tone. This warranted laughs from his friends. “I haven’t been able to greet you with a proper hello in a while. Don’t you have a meeting in 1 minute?”

“No I don’t have a meeting, Troy. I would like to go home please.”

“Oh, he’s so stupid, wait till I tell him,” Troy snickered to his friends.

“Tell me what,” Mike said in an irritated voice.

“Oh, that's right. You’ve got a meeting with my fist. Frog face!” Troy shouted/ Quickly two of his goons ran around Mike, grabbed his hands and prevented him from running away.

Troy stepped up to Mike and punched him right in the gut. Mike fell forward, the punch pushing the wind out of him. Troy laughed mockingly at Mike’s pain.

“Oh look, seems Frog Face isn’t able to take a hit.” Mike struggled against the hands around his arms. He managed to slip his arm out of one of the goons hands before Troy was able to take another punch. He stomped on the second goons foot which made him grab for his injured toe.

Mike shoved the boys out of the way and ran past Troy. He ran with all his might but his legs were not able to carry him far enough. Troy caught up to him and shoved him to the ground. The momentum caused Mike to do a somersault. He landed on his back, his face looking directly into Troy's.

“You think you could outrun Me! Think again Frog Face.” Troy’s threat scared Mike this time, unlike the last one. Troy balled his hand into a fist and, with one swift motion, hit Mike right in the face.

“Think about this the next time you think you can take on me,” Troy spat before running away with his friends.

Mike didn’t bother to get up or move. He just laid in the middle of the sidewalk, still dazed from Troy's punch. He could feel the blood trickle down his nose and onto his face. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to think, but his eager mind persisted. And all he could think about was how much Hawkins sucked.

Hawkins Sucks.

[mist-chance]

So. There’s a post very much like this one already here, on my Tumblr, that I claimed was a one-shot – I was wrong. Somehow, when I made an aO3 account, I was inspired to expand on it a bit, and it became the first chapter of From the Ashes. 

It’s categorized as Gen, with the possibility of becoming shonen-ai Endeavor/OC.

Summary:

The U.A. Sports Festival is the perfect stage for Shouto's debut as the future Hero who will overtake All Might's Number One Hero position - all Enji has to do is convince the rebellious idiot to use his flames.

Somehow, this ends up not being the focus of Enji's attention.

Enji scoured the stands for a seat that would give him the best vantage point for watching Shouto. He'd never attended the U.A. Sports Festival as a spectator – usually he sent a few Sidekicks as representatives in case he needed someone to act in his stead (either by interacting with other Heroes or scouting new talent), while he watched the event at his office.

It was necessary for him to be here, this time. Shouto, despite his rebellious stubbornness, wouldn't be able to keep up his ridiculous pledge during the Sports Festival. This was the event for wannabe Heroes, the time, place, and opportunity to show their strength and ability – what little they had, in most cases.

At some point, Shouto would give in. And Enji would be here to see it.

Enji spotted a row relatively free of spectators that suited his purposes well enough. Though his Quirk, constantly active, generally encouraged other people to give him a wide berth, he'd learned early on that it was best to squash any possibility for misunderstandings by pointedly isolating himself, and then exercising use of his scowl and flames with extreme prejudice.

“Move,” he ordered the man blocking the aisle. When the redhead didn’t immediately do so, Enji kicked his sneaker.

“Jesus!” The redhead jumped, scribbling zigzags in the notebook propped on his thigh. “What the fuck is your problem?” He turned to glare at Enji.

He was younger than expected, but it was his mismatched eyes – one teal, the other silver – that startled Enji. He quickly snapped, “You are, brat. Move your legs and stop blocking the damn row.”

For a moment, it looked like the redhead was going to put up a fight. Then he sighed, loud with exasperation, and pulled his legs in. “You don’t have to be such an asshole about it, Endeavor-san,” he mockingly said as Enji slipped by his knees. He glared again when Enji sat down next to him. “Really? There are literally three other seats open in this row.”

“The view’s better here.” Enji crossed his arms, flexing them to make his bulk and flames take up more space.

The redhead muttered something that sounded like a vehement “Asshole” as he shifted to the far side of his seat. He adjusted the headband of his headphones to a more secure position in his spiky hair, placed the notebook back on his thigh, and started writing with the focused, single-minded intensity Enji had only ever seen in reporters sniffing around for a scoop.

Since he had nothing better to do, Enji watched the redhead. After writing on a line or two, the redhead would press buttons on the headphone casing over his left ear, write some more, and then repeat the process. Enji’s frown deepened, but movement in the arena drew his attention as Present Mic announced the start of the cavalry battle.

Throughout the event, Enji kept half an eye on the redhead, whose scribbling and messing with the headphones increased with the students’ shouts from the arena and the roar of the spectators. It wasn’t as though Shouto was displaying power or abilities Enji didn't already know the stubborn idiot possessed. The only reason Enji bothered to watch him at all, from time to time, was to make sure the brat didn’t slack off more, and to see if he’d give up his meaningless rebellion to use Enji’s power. And Shouto did slip, just for a moment, against that pipsqueak Enji had seen All Might hovering around. For those reasons, the pipsqueak might be worth keeping an eye on.

After the event ended, Enji stood and hauled the redhead up by the arm.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the redhead snapped, his eyes flashing and pupils narrowed into pinpricks. He managed to catch the pen in his notebook as Enji dragged him away. His arm was tense in Enji’s hand, trembling in a way that had little to do with the fact they were pushing past crowds of spectators to the contestants’ backstage area of the arena, and everything to do with the furious rage the redhead bored into the back of Enji’s head with his glare.

“You’ve got some nerve, gathering info on prospective Heroes and Pro Heroes during the Sports Festival,” Enji said lowly after he shoved the redhead against a wall. He braced a hand just above the redhead’s shoulder and loomed. “Who are you working for?”

The redhead gave Enji’s chest an ineffectual shove. “First of all,” he snapped, fearlessly meeting Enji’s scowl with his own, “this is a nationally televised event, which means Villains don’t have to come here to gather info. Second, if you’d asked like a civilized person, I would’ve told you that I’m here as a favor for Nedzu and Aizawa Shouta, your son’s teacher. And third –”

“Long time no see, Endeavor!” All Might’s loud greeting prevented Enji from finding out the redhead’s third point. His face remained irritatingly jovial with his customary grin as Enji turned a scowl onto him. “We should get –” He cut himself off when his overshadowed gaze flickered from Enji to the redhead. “Uh… Sorry, Endeavor, I didn’t realize you were – Hisui-chan?”

“Hey Toshi-san.” The redhead smiled. This time, Enji stepped back when the redhead pushed at his chest. “I was wondering where you were,” he said, walking over to hug All Might.

“Hisui-chan,” All Might repeated, sounding pleased instead of incredulous as he readily wrapped his thick arms around the redhead’s slender frame. “If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve arranged to sit with you.”

“I thought Shouta told you I was.” The redhead stepped back to frown in the direction of the commentator’s box. “Well, it’s fine. You probably would’ve distracted me,” he teased, giving All Might’s arm a playful shove.

All Might gave an awkward laugh. “Accidentally, of course,” he assured as he rubbed the back of his head. “I didn’t know you were acquainted with Endeavor.” He fixed an uncharacteristically stern look on Enji.

Enji restlessly rolled a shoulder. He had better things to do than watch All Might be buddy-buddy with an irritating redhead, now that he knew said redhead wasn’t a security risk. “We aren’t,” Enji growled. “We aren’t acquaintances,” he snapped when All Might’s face crumpled into a bemused frown.

“Then, Endeavor, this is Hisui!” All Might’s smile returned to its blinding effect full-force as he clapped a large hand on the redhead’s slim shoulder. “And Hisui-chan, you know of Endeavor.”

“Uh huh,” Hisui dryly agreed, his gaze flickering to Enji. “A real charmer.”

Enji bristled, but before he could retort, All Might asked, “So what’re you two doing down here? I thought you’d visit Aizawa-kun, Hisui-chan, or stay in the stands.”

“I wanted to talk with Todoroki-kun, Midoriya-kun, and Bakugou-kun real quick, to see if I can confirm something,” Hisui explained. “Endeavor found me down here and wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to cause trouble.”

Anger burned under his skin and made his flames flicker ominously as Hisui’s mismatched eyes slyly met Enji’s glare. All Might, of course, was oblivious to the exchange.

“What a doting father!” All Might chuckled. “Don’t worry, Endeavor, Hisui-chan’s just going to give some pointers. He used to be a Hero himself, you know,” he said with a proud paternal air that made Enji’s lip curl in disgust.

“I’m just gonna…” Hisui trailed off, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder as he started slinking away.

“Go on.” All Might waved him off. “Let’s meet after the awards ceremony.”

“You got it, Toshi-san.” Hisui grinned and quickly disappeared down the corridor, leaving Enji with All Might.

“He used to be a Hero?” Enji demanded. He needed something as compensation for enduring All Might’s presence longer than necessary.

“Yes! He went by the Hero name Oracle. Of course, he was an Underground Hero much like Aizawa-kun, so he didn’t receive a lot of publicity, and not many people are aware he existed. He retired five years ago. Now he works as a consultant for the Police, though he also consults for U.A. at Nedzu-kouchou's request.”

“Retired? He can’t be older than twenty-five,” Enji scoffed.

“He’s thirty-one,” All Might corrected. “Unfortunately, retirement was his only option. He was severely injured fighting a Villain. It is…one of my biggest regrets,” he softly admitted.

All Might's slumped shoulders told Enji everything he needed to know about the circumstances that had forced the redhead into retirement. It was the first time Enji could remember him expressing a genuine emotion other than cheerfulness. Thankfully, All Might recovered himself before Enji was tempted to see him as anything other than the enthusiastic, boisterous annoyance that had managed to secure the position of Number One Hero.

“I’m glad I ran into you, Endeavor! It really has been a while; we should catch up. You can give me pointers on raising the next generation of Heroes. Todoroki-kun’s adept at using his Quirk, which is impressive for his age. His future as a Hero is extremely promising.”

“You think I’ll teach you anything? Remember this: I created the Hero that will surpass you,” Enji said as he turned away. “It’s the only reason I created that boy.”

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Wyatt questions an answer (Part 11)

Wyatt @SayWhenLA... "This would also lend itself to the theory of elites wanting one world race, umbrella government, one world currency, etc. The truth is every race and ethnicity has its pros and cons,  South Koreans tend to score much higher on intel tests than say, Cubans, but Cubans are also dominating the olympics in wrestling and judo while Koreans are not. Each group of people have their pros and cons and I’m not sure what the result would be of all of us being the same. Israel- We working on ethno state. And you don't get to say a thing about it. Europe and North America- get the Kalergi Plan. Hm. When is Africa, Israel, or , etc.. getting diversity? It is literally only the white countries that need "diversity" Weird. The only real war is the war of the people with power/money/control over society vs the rest of us. All these things are designed to keep the masses pitted against each other instead of against the real controllers who really just want to keep and grow their ridiculous power. These topics will be more thoroughly discussed down road. I just have to laugh because these subjects usually get lowest RT traction even if you make decent arguments but the tweet views up WAYYY up there. So clearly many are reading but afraid to retweet lol. Understandable.  von Coudenhove plan. If ˈmäz-ləm countries like so great why leave ˈmäz-ləm countries and get mass trafficked to non ˈmäz-ləm countries and !slamophy those countries? We shouldn't be giving anything and let people hate us for free and use money to actually fix our communities. Pathetically, America's government is littered with dual citizenship dummies that call for Israel first, America distant second. We're infiltrated in many directions ofc. American Legion even called for full investigation into Israel's attack and cover-up on the USS Liberty that killed and injured 200+ US soldiers.  I literally have never heard about the USS Liberty until just last year. That is seriously some grade-a American bigotry right there. Did citizens of Israel do that? Of course not. The controllers did. See how easy this is. Vet Associations president Gallo famous for saying: “We must not forget the holocaust, however, in concert, it is equally important for the future of the United States to never forget the USS Liberty.” A cover-up that is sustained by Media spin and or failure to seek and report the facts. In a historic move, the American Legion, at its national convention in Reno on Thursday, August 24, 2017, approved Resolution 40 calling for the first full U.S. government investigation of Israel's attack on the USS Liberty. Gunnery Sergeant Lockwood (USMC, ret.) was on hand during the entire convention working for passage of the resolution. Lockwood was awarded the Silver Star for "conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action in connection with the unprovoked and unexpected armed attack on U.S.S. LIBERTY (AGTR-5), in the Eastern Mediterranean, on 8 June." Lockwood said there were a lot of "hand shakes, hugs, and some tears" after the vote. Wow, so many claim to "support the troops." What's going on? The American Legion's resolution brings the nation's largest veterans organization back on the side of the USS Liberty survivors, family, and supporter in calling upon the "115th United States Congress to publicly, impartially, and thoroughly investigate the attack on the USS Liberty and its aftermath." The resolution also aligns the Legion with the Veterans of Foreign Wars, which, in 2013, adopted Resolution 423 at their national convention calling for the attack to be investigated. The Liberty was a U.S. Navy electronics ship operating in international waters in the eastern Mediterranean when it was attacked by Israeli forces. The ship's commander received the Congressional Medal of Honor and the crew is one of the most decorated for a single engagement in U.S. Navy history. The brave survivors deserve to see this happen before they die. When you don't have legitimate factual defense, and you are without shame and want your position to be accepted at any cost, the only thing left is lying. There have been no US investigations at all into the conduct of the Israeli forces when they attacked USS Liberty.  The Israelis have never been asked to produce evidence, nor have they been interviewed about the attack. You figure that one out. US governmental entity has never undertaken an investigation into the culpability for the attack. Also figure that one out. No agency or other institution has ever conducted a fact finding investigation into the question of why the Israeli State launched the attack and their prior knowledge that USS Liberty was a US Navy ship. No evidence Congress ever held hearings or launched an investigation. I learned about the cover-up, but I had absolutely zero idea how heavily the McCain's were involved. I hope the American public finds out the full truth about this treasonous pos. This is one war story that will never ever never get the Hollywood treatment.. So if Egypt attacked us, we would nuke them. But it was Israel, so nothing is done except to cover it up. How long has Israel been pimp slapping America? These cocksuckers have been bleeding America since 1913. This cabal been running bank of England since battle of Waterloo. Israel gives citizens a bad name. The citizens are not to blame, it is the zionist cabal that use citizens. These secret society cucks from hell created the fraudulent federal reserve...a central speculating bank that extorts usury from US citizens by taxing ever dollar printed. In other words, they print our money with zero accountability. They sell it back to us. HUH? WHAT? And to collect the extortion they created IRS. An extortion agency. Debt slavery. It was pretty brilliant. And evil. Really, really evil. For decades the traitors in the israel lobby covered up this war crime. We have let ourselves be conned. They seem to only give a damn when they need some dirty work done, no? Seems like it. Your Congress, the UK, Israel, Europe are infiltrated with this network's influence. If American machine gunned a life raft with American survivors, what do you think would happen to him/her? Israeli Pilot Jim Ennes has said "we had been surveilled all morning and part of afternoon by Israeli forces. They knew who we were. We heard them reporting over radio  And how we were sailing and where we were sailing. They saw the Flag and everything else. We were in international waters." There is no question that this attack on a U.S. Navy ship was deliberate False Flag. This was a coordinated effort involving air, sea, headquarters and commando forces attacking over a long period. It was not the "few rounds of misdirected fire" that Israel would have you believe. Worse, the Israeli excuse is a gross and detailed fabrication that disagrees entirely with the eyewitness recollections of the actual survivors who were actually there. Key American leaders call the attack deliberate. More important, eyewitness participants from the Israeli side have told survivors that they knew they were attacking an American ship. Fifteen years after the attack, an Israeli pilot approached Liberty survivors and then held extensive interviews about his role. According to this senior Israeli lead pilot, he recognized the Liberty as American immediately, so he informed his headquarters,  and was told to ignore the American flag and continue his attack. He refused to do so and returned to base, where he was arrested. Unfortunately, no one in the U.S. government had any interest in hearing these first-person accounts of Israeli treachery. Key members have long agreed that this attack was no accident. Perhaps most outspoken is former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Admiral Thomas Moorer. "I can never accept the claim that this was a mistaken attack," he insists. Yet Israel and its blind defenders continue to stand by their claim that the attack was a "tragic accident" in which Israel mistook the most modern electronic surveillance vessel in the world for a rusted-out 40-year-old Egyptian horse transport. Why lie if innocent? Despite the evidence, no U.S. administration has ever found the courage to ever found the courage to defy the Israeli lobby by publicly demanding a proper accounting from Israel. Instead of determining whether the attack was deliberate, the Navy blocked all testimony No survivor was permitted to describe the close in machine-gun fire that continued for 40 minutes after Israel straight up claims all firing stopped. No survivor was allowed to talk about the life rafts the Israeli torpedo men machine-gunned in the water. No survivor was permitted to challenge defects and fabrications. Eyewitness testimony as officer-of-the deck was withheld from record. No evidence of Israeli culpability "found" because no such testimony was allowed. To survivors, this was not an investigation. It was a cover-up. Such a disgrace the way our Servicemen have been treated. My heart goes out to all of the Servicemen and their families which continue to be betrayed by the US Government for the benefit of the cabal. The Liberty sent out a Mayday when they could, as their communications were jammed before the missiles started flying in, then the jamming ceased as the missiles were launched and was the only time their communications could go out. An American aircraft carrier a good distance away picked up the Mayday signal and launched some of their planes. When LBJ heard of the planes being launched, he got on the radio or phone to the Admiral of the carrier and told him to recall those planes back to the carrier. So the false flag was between Israel and LBJ (who was also sleeping with Mossad Spy) for the Israelis to sink the Liberty, as the Israeli planes didn't have markings, so Egypt would be blamed and America would come into the war and, Israel and America would share spoils of war. Evil has no boundaries, makes no difference whether it's a Democrat or Republican administration. Or what they identify as. Our country totally infiltrated and the people we voted to run it are bigger crooks than the ones they blame everything on and are allies are not so. USS Liberty Commander David Ed Lewis spoke during the USS LIBERTY’s 50th reunion regarding “idiots in Washington” and the president who set the precedent of failing to support the crew of the USS LIBERTY: “Not only did they die, their families also paid a price. One widow went over the edge and the state took her kids away. Some of my men were threatened with being put in a mental institution if they spoke out. None of us had any contact with the other until the first reunion of the LIBERTY twenty years after the attack. Everybody was assigned to different duty stations to keep us apart… “That morning I saw a couple of the Israeli over flights, we waved at each other. We all felt safe, as they were friends. I was back in my general quarter’s station two levels down when I heard the thud-thud-thud of the rockets overhead, but they never penetrated the bowels of the ship. “It was such a well planned accident. They took out just about every antenna we had. All of them were knocked out except for one that never worked right. It was also the first satellite communications in the U.S.A. It leaked hydrolic fluid but when it worked right, it bounced off the moon. “The torpedo explosion happened less than ten feet from where I stood and blew out the bulkhead and covered me with twenty years of navy paint. All the troops within twenty feet of me were killed instantly. The bulkhead protected me as a shield from the blast. “I shouldn’t have even survived. I was on the second level down and the compartment was sealed. Seamen Shnell broke regulations and saved my life. It’s against regulations to break watertight integrity, but he took the risk of sinking the ship to check for survivors. I really cant believe I just learned about this last year. Unbelievable. It wasn't a mistake. It was very deliberate and strategic planned attack. Extremely relevant today. It was a false flag operation to get US to do Israels bidding in the Middle East.   Unarmed ship. They were defenseless. Israel jammed their radio transmissions so they couldn't call for help. They jammed both their tactical frequencies and their distress frequencies, which is against international law. After raining down several machine gun runs, destroying antennas and such, they bombed it with napalm. Two Israeli ships approached and communicated with the pilots discussing who was going to finish her off. Oh yes, they did. And oh did they. When our boys tried to escape the burning ship on life boats, Israeli Navy opened hell-fire on the lifeboats with .50 machine guns.  Next, the Navy moved in and circled the wounded ship and hammered it with torpedos. Wow. The ship was finally able to get a distress signal out to american ship after a crew member was able to wire a makeshift antenna in hopes to signal help. Israel intercepted the calls, listened in, then immediately stopped bombing in fear of retaliation. They THEN claimed it was all just a terrible mistake. Despite the massive cover-up and lies.  Word must have traveled quick. President Johnson personally demanded that the retaliation fighters immediately cease and called them off. President Johnson said he didn't give a damn if the ship sunk, he would not embarrass muh greatest allies. The mockingbird media barely mentioned it, calling it a "friendly fire incident". The Johnson Administration discussed sinking the ship so it couldn't be photographed. Why? The survivors were told to never tell anyone about it, including family. NSA kept eye on the crew to make sure they didn't tell anyone. Israel planted stories in the media and threatened anyone that leaked it with cries of anti-semetism. Completely meaningless term. They've turned it into a joke. If I hear someone get called antisemite, I automatically assume they were just speaking truth and the other person is hysterical idiot. Inquiries were shut down, testimonies were erased. For decades those involved in the coverup lied about what happened. Israel used unmarked jets and tried to ensure their were no survivors on a ship they were CERTAIN was an American ship. Had the USS Liberty not had been able to get that one SOS call out, they would have sunk the ship and blamed it on Egypt, forcing us to bomb their enemies in the Middle East. Hm. With allies like Israel, who needs enemies? USS Liberty, Lavon Affair, Apollo Affair, celebrating 9/11 and saying would be good and benefit the state of Israel. Yeah not the company I would be wanting to keep. It is literally mind control slavery. Blind conservs so damn cringey. Seriously smd. This is all new to me and I'm trying to make sense of it all. I actually care about this stuff and take it seriously, unlike you. Our brave men got hung out to dry. Anyone in US military should understand that nothing really has changed. Israel literally almost got US puppet to set off WW3 by nuking Egypt. I think that's pretty f'n important.There were bombers ready to nuke Cairo. They don't mention Israel was machine gunning 850 Egyptian P.O.W.s right near where attack on Liberty took place. JFK blocked Israel from getting nukes. LBJ let them get nukes. Sad truth is LBJ conspired with Israel to attack and sink the Liberty. When it wouldn't sink, the cover-up began. I believe Johnson stated: "I want that sucker on the bottom"! (Speaking of sinking The Liberty) U.S.S. Liberty is just the start , Israel's list of crimes are long. And U.S. taxpayer funded. One thing went terribly wrong for Johnson's plan that day. The Liberty refused to sink. Some of men on U.S.S. Liberty believe it was the hand of God which saved the ship that day. It's historical blind spot. the internet is the only place it exists. Our history books aren't worth the paper they are written on! Israel did its absolute best to kill all US personal on board and sink this ship and blame a country that had nothing to do with it. Disgusting. To this day Israel is egging on the USA to fight their wars.  Constantly trying to provoke and get us into a war with Iran so more American kids can die for them.  And USA give billions, one of prosperous nations in ME, every year in name of foreign aid? What is wrong with y'all. Israel is evil country that kill their own allies. Saudi Arabia is same level and right next to Israel. What's even more obscene is that some high ups wanted to sink the Liberty so that the public wouldn't "turn against" israel. Smfh. We really are just numbers to them. The USA seems to care more about their 'relations' to Israel than they care about their OWN soldiers and citizens. Fact!! Most politicians are blackmailed. "Do my bidding until you die" type scenarios. Maniupulators of Israel, & their AIPAC power lobby influence America. but the American citizen thinks they have independent country and love to talk about sovereignty all the time. Too funny. American politicians sold off their country and its citizens. If this attack would have been done by any other country. think about Russians if they have had did in the same way directly to any US Ship. There would have been a third world war. That was the idea, chief.  The mayday they got out spoiled the plan. Just imagine. Good lord. How could this be covered up so well? This is all very new to me and I know it is new for many of you because I see your messages. And I'm a curious muthafucka. I guess when you dominate media it’s easy to cover things up and therefore shape the perceptions of the entire nation. You are gross. Very dense, intellectually dishonest or patent liar. And I would tell that to your face. Chairman of Joint CoS/generals., admirals and high ranking military officers came to one conclusion, IT Israel keeps America on a leash. Poor Americans!  It'll be a great day when the Israeli and American citizens wake up to all this disgusting propaganda and manipulation.Don't forget, 'the lavon affair' was an earlier operation by america's ally 13 years before. Nothing new. This is such bull Sh.. just like the Gulf-war and weapons of mass destruction. All NWO Puppets need to be imprisoned. Our own President L.B. Johnson was living, infiltrating traitor. He called back the fighters that would have saved countless lives. When will America wake up?? Israel paid $3.3M to families. LOL.  $97k each.  Utterly shameful. Still have gall to lie about it.  Blood money.  Israel was actually paying victim's families with money taken from American Taxpayers.  US aid to Israel TRIPLED in year following the FFattack on the USS Liberty. Low RT's on this very well needed discussion but 260k views on single tweet within 3 hours and climbing lmao. Hmm. Almost like people are getting it and getting mega curious but still afraid to hit that RT button. Please, take your time. Research. Think for yourself. To truly make sense of it, you need to see the historical pattern and realize that the same elite mafia forces are behind numerous false flag attacks. With that in mind, Let's look at these 5 historical false flags attacks: Quick side note: after explaining the obvious multiple times and separating the satanic manipulators from regular, normal citizens - it seems there are still grade-a imbeciles in my mentions. Let's make one thing very clear. Yes, just as NOT all whites are members of the KKK, NOT all Jews are Zionists. It's too bad we need to always say this. When we say that the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, no one says - well not all Japanese are responsible for bombing Pearl Harbor! Like no shit you absolute idiot But if you talk about Zionist crimes, people have been systemically programmed to think, oh no this subject is only talked about by Jew haters. Defense! Defense! So of course, we need to clearly say that the crimes of Zionists have nothing to do with the good Jews as a whole. Some people are asking, what's a Zionist? Good question. Different people have different definitions. It's OKAY to disagree. Ain't a crime. (Yet!) > Baptists, Congregationalists, Pentecostals, Mormons, etc  Another thing to note is that they usually don't like to call themselves "Christian Zionists". They often call themselves "Dispensationalist" To tell if Christian Zionist, ask them..."Do you believe that the modern state of Israel is the fulfillment of biblical prophecy?"  If they say yes, then they are Christian Zionists. Christian Zionists are the stupidest of all (no offense, really), total embarrassment. Traditional Christians believe that Jesus is the fulfillment of biblical prophecy. and the Euphrates river (in Iraq) to the Jews.  And they believe that God blesses anyone who helps Jews and punishes anyone who opposes Jews for any reason yada yada. Christian Zionism was started with creation of a special version of the bible called the Scofield Bible. Since Christian Zionist believe in a version of religion that basically makes them servants to Jews (total idiots), there's a lot of speculation as to who would have funded the creation of the Scofield Bible and who funded the development of Christian Zionist Churches. Another definition might be that a Zionist is anyone who believes that Jews are superior to gentiles. Lots of Jews these days are not religious believers, so most Zionists are believers in Jewish racial supremacy. But of course, there are Zionist who are religious as well. For those Zionists, they are both racial supremacist and religious supremacist. Then there's the generic definition of Zionist which is simply someone who supports the idea that the state of Israel should continue to exist as a racist ethno-state that exist solely for the purpose of serving the Jewish people. Recently Israel passed a law stating just that, that . There was very little notice in the mass media. Of course, if any other country had done the same thing the media would have gone crazy. Some people think passing this law may be prelude to more Israel ethnically cleaning. they are cleansing Palestinians little by little; murdering their women and children every day and boxing them in more and more. This issue with Zionism and Israel, not regular Jewish people. If you are unable to objectively discuss the racial supremacist behavior of a particular racial group without starting to draw childish hate, then that's your problem.  You should probably seek therapy to try to get to the source of your issue. Meanwhile the adults will discuss, without fear, the potential racial supremacist behavior of any racial group, and what, if anything, can be done to counteract it.  

Wyatt @SayWhenLA    

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[weneedtherooks]

The End

I’m sorry guys, I meant to have this up yesterday, but life got ahead of me a bit! Since yesterday was not only Veteran’s Day, but the 100th anniversary of WW1 ending, I figured I’d do a little tidbit for the Rosenthal’s.

-November 11, 1918-

Armin had noticed Callista was being...antsy-er than usual. “Cal, what in the world is wrong?” She twisted the corner of her apron as she paced inside his office. “It’s over.” “Yes, I am aware.” He leaned forward on his desk, whispering, “I’m assuming this outcome was predictable for you?” She nodded stiffly. “Then…?” “It doesn’t feel over. I don’t know why, but it’s...unsettling.” “Am I correct in, once again, assuming this feeling involves details you aren’t at liberty to divulge?” She sighed, nodding once again. “Armin, I’ve been anxiously counting down the days since September. Maybe it’s just because I’ve been living it versus reading it in a book, I don’t know. I feel like I’m watching the first domino fall in what’s going to be a very long line of dominoes.” Now it was his turn to nod. “I understand that feeling. Probably not to the same extent, but I can feel it, too. An unrest about the conclusion of this war.” “Exactly!” “However…” He stood, moving to stand in front of Callista. “All of that pales in comparison to one thing for me.” “Oh?” “Relief.” He took her hands in his. “My family survived. Not many can say that.” He leaned forward, closing his eyes as their foreheads touched. “I’m tired of waiting for the day this hell would consume one of them, and now it no longer can. And, for that, I’m grateful that this war is over.”

~

Derrick tapped his thumb against the pipe hanging from his mouth. Over. Was it really that simple? “So, now what?” the soldier next to him asked, his voice thick with uncertainty. “It means just that. The war is over, plain and simple.” “Okay, so do we continue the attack?” “No...send the opposing side a message. I want to see if he’s amicable to a meeting. ” The young man nodded, a solemn look on his face that matched his own. Derrick hoped it would go well, but he didn’t get his hopes up. After all, his opponent could very well think this was him rolling over and giving up. Or see it as nothing more than a trap set by a cornered dog. “Sir!” Derrick watched as Brauer made his way towards him. “Something the matter?” “What’s this about a meeting?” “You sound bothered by that,” Derrick commented, holding out the recently received missive. “War’s over. We lost. No point in keeping up this ridiculous scuffle.” Brauer scanned over the letter quickly, his brow furrowing. “That’s that, then?” “That’s that.” It took the better of an hour, but the opposing officer showed up; granted, it was at his doorstep without any notice, but Derrick chose to keep his mouth shut on the matter. The man seemed to be the same rank as he was; a bit rounded in the face, brunette hair, and a haughty expression that made him want to spit. He waved over a soldier, muttering something to him. “Sergeant Faucher would like to know the meaning of this meeting.” Derrick cringed at the boy’s poor German, holding up a hand. “No need for that, I speak French.” The Sergeant raised an eyebrow, evidently surprised. “And fluently, for that matter.” “Learned it well before the war, sir.” “And here I thought most of you were idiots.” “You can thank my wife for that, I suppose,” he said, keeping his tone in check. “Married French.” “Oh?” He nodded. “Well then, consider me impressed. Remind me of your name?” “Sergeant Rosenthal,” he stated, extending a hand. Much to his surprise, Faucher had a firm handshake. “So...is this it?” Faucher gestured at the general chaos of the battlefield. “The ceasefire barely went up, and already you’re rolling over to the enemy?” Cocky little - “No. I’m not rolling over. I’m just not...foolish enough to senselessly keep up this little game we’ve been playing.” “Foolish?” he asked, catching Derrick’s carefully chosen words. “You and I both know that we’ve been shelling each other over a plot of dirt that wasn’t going to mean a damn thing for this war.” “And yet you still did it.” “I do believe you’ve previously acknowledged that I’m not a complete idiot. I was given orders, I followed. You know how it goes.” The Frenchman gave Derrick a hard stare, one he was all too glad to mirror back. “What do you suggest we do, then?” he asked quietly. “Sort out our dead. Tend to whoever is injured. Make it a joint effort. I’m sure most everyone here is fed up with all this fighting.” After a moment of silence, Faucher held out his hand. “We have an accord, then.” “Yes. We have an accord.”

~

Melanie was beginning to grow concerned. Erich had been staring off at some point on the wall for the better of ten minutes now. “Is that really it…?” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. Oh, thank God. “I suppose so. It only just happened, Erich.” He scoffed, but didn’t reply. Mallory sat quietly in an opposing chair, turning to look out the front window. “I wonder when they’ll be back.” “Who knows, Mama. I doubt all the fighting has stopped, but I’m sure-” A loud crash cut her off. Melanie looked at Erich in shock, his face painted with a look of keen frustration. He looked on the brink of tears. “So that’s it?” he spat, his voice wavering. “We all marched ourselves out into that fucking pit of hell, and for WHAT?” He grit his teeth, his breathing growing harder. “Erich-” “I don’t need anyone’s fucking pity!” Mallory flinched, taking Erich aback. “I...I’m sorry, I…” He stared at the floor, glancing over at the broken vase scattered across the corner of the room as Brandi walked in. Erich turned his head to face her, his expression suddenly that of a lost child. “When did you…?” “About when the vase shattered,” she whispered. She walked over to him, running a hand through his hair before kissing his forehead. “What’s going on, love?” He looked down at his lap, running his hands over what was left of his legs. “It’s not fair.” “What isn’t fair?” “This,” he muttered, giving his lap a gentle pat. “I gave up everything for this war...but now, it feels more like it was taken away from me. Taken with no hope of ever recovering.” Melanie raised an eyebrow as Brandi knelt in front of him. “What do you mean?” He spoke without facing her. “They don’t take...cripples. I can barely function without someone’s assistance, and they will never be able to help that.” So that’s what this is about? “Well, it’s only hopeless if that’s how you choose to see it.” Erich’s attention snapped back to Brandi’s face. She smiled softly at him, as did Mallory. “She’s right about that, son. And you know we’ll all be here for you, no matter what.” He turned around, giving Melanie a curious look. “What? You think I’m going to disagree? First off, you do remember who I married, yes?” Walking up behind the sofa, she wrapped her arms around her little brother’s shoulders in a tight hug. “You’re my family, and anyone who tries any funny business? Their ass can meet my foot.” That got him to chuckle, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. Mallory came forward, cupping her youngest son’s cheek. He leaned into her hand, smiling. “I, um...I can replace that.” “Don’t worry about it, my dear. I’m more concerned with you.”

~

Friedrich wondered if it was possible to have an award for dumbfounded faces. “They aren’t serious are they?” “About fucking time.” “They can’t do this to us!” “We get to go home!” “What happens now…?” He barely heard any of that. His attention was solely on Clara, who was staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Claire?” Nothing. “Clara, schatzi, what’s wrong?” He gently cupped her cheek, unsure if she was having another episode. She blinked. “Is it really over, Friedrich? Full stop over?” “Yes.” “Who won?” “Not us, simply put.” Clara’s brow furrowed. She turned her attention to the opposing trench wall, her eyes beginning to lose focus. “So many dead,” she whispered. To Friedrich’s surprise...tears began to pool in her eyes as she slowly turned her face back to him. “No more, yes? No killing? Killing over?” His heart squeezed at the sight of her; four years of uncensored, brutal death came crashing down on her. Four years lost in the trenches. An entire childhood ripped away. He took off her helmet, ruffling her hair a bit before smoothing it out, pulling her closer to him. “Yes, Claire. All over.” The tears spilled over. He pulled her into a tight hug right as she began to sob, rubbing her back in an attempt to ease the hard shuddering of her shoulders. It drew the attention of the other nearby soldiers. Some of them simple turned their attention elsewhere, others sighed in understanding, giving Friedrich a sympathetic nod. By the time she pulled away, a small handful of men had come by, briefly putting a hand on her shoulder in a show of solidarity. She didn’t wipe away the tears. “Are we going home now?” “Mhmm.” “Huh…” A puzzled look passed her face as she looked up towards the sky. “Not sure where that is, now.”

[mist-chance]

Disclaimer: Horikoshi Kouhei owns BnHA; I just own Hisui and non-canon interactions.

Endeavor/Hisui one-shot test run; don’t like, don’t read. Takes place during the Sports Festival Arc.

“Move,” Enji ordered the man blocking the aisle. When the redhead didn’t immediately move his legs, Enji kicked his sneaker.

“Jesus!” The redhead jumped, scribbling zigzags in the notebook propped on his thigh. “What the fuck is your problem?” He looked up to glare at Enji.

He was younger than expected, and though his mismatched eyes – teal and silver – startled Enji, he quickly snapped, “You are, brat. Move your legs and stop blocking the damn row.”

For a moment, it looked like the redhead was going to put up a fight. Then he sighed, loud with exasperation, and pulled his legs in. “You don’t have to be such an asshole about it, Endeavor-san,” he mockingly said as Enji slipped by his knees. He glared again when Enji sat down in the seat next to him. “Really? There are literally three other seats open in this row.”

“The view’s better here.” Enji crossed his arms, flexing them to make his bulk and flames take up more space.

The redhead muttered something that sounded like a vehement “Asshole,” as he shifted to the far side of his seat. He adjusted the headband of his headphones to a more secure position in his short, spiky hair, placed the notebook back on his thigh, and started writing with the focused, single-minded intensity Enji had only ever seen in reporters sniffing around for a scoop.

He entertained himself by observing the redhead. After writing a sentence or two, the redhead would press the buttons on the headphone casing over his left ear, write some more, and then repeat the process. Enji’s frown deepened, but movement in the arena and Present Mic announcing the start of the cavalry battle distracted him. Throughout the event, Enji kept half an eye on the redhead, whose scribbling and fiddling with the headphones increased with the students’ shouts from the arena and the roar of the spectators. It wasn’t as though Shouto was displaying power or abilities Enji already knew the stubborn idiot possessed. The only reason Enji bothered to watch him at all was the make sure the brat didn’t slack off, and see if maybe he’d give up his meaningless rebellion to use Enji’s power. After the event ended, Enji stood and hauled the redhead up by the arm.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the redhead snapped, his eyes flashing and pupils narrowed into pinpricks. He managed to capture his pen between the pages of the notebook as Enji dragged him away. His arm was tense in Enji’s hand, trembling in a way that had little to do with the fact they were pushing past crowds of spectators to the contestants’ backstage area of the arena, and everything to do with the furious rage the redhead was boring into the back of Enji’s head with his glare.

“You’ve got some nerve, gathering info on prospective heroes and pro-Heroes during the Sports Festival,” Enji said lowly after he shoved the redhead against a wall. He braced a hand just above the redhead’s shoulder and loomed. “Who are you working for?”

The redhead gave Enji’s chest an ineffectual shove. “First of all,” he snapped, fearlessly meeting Enji’s scowl with his own, “this is a nationally televised event, which means Villains don’t have to come here to gather info. Second, if you’d asked like a civilized person, I would’ve told you that I’m here as a favor for Nedzu and Aizawa Shouta, your son’s teacher. And third –”

“Long time no see, Endeavor!” All Might’s jovial voice prevented Enji from finding out the redhead’s third point. His face remained equally and irritatingly jovial with his customary grin as Enji turned a scowl onto him. “We should get –” He cut himself off when his overshadowed gaze flickered from Enji to the redhead. “Uh… Sorry, Endeavor, I didn’t realize you were – Hisui-chan?”

“Hey Toshi-san.” The redhead smiled. This time, Enji stepped back when the redhead pushed against his chest. “I was wondering where you were,” he said, walking over to hug All Might.

“Hisui-chan,” All Might repeated, sounding pleased instead of incredulous as he readily wrapped his thick arms around the redhead’s slender frame. He stepped back and said, “If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve arranged to sit with you.”

“I thought Shouta told you I was.” The redhead frowned up in the direction of the commentator’s box. “Well, it’s fine. You probably would’ve distracted me,” he teased, giving All Might’s arm a playful shove.

All Might gave an awkward laugh. “Accidentally, of course,” he assured as he rubbed the back of his head. “I didn’t know you were acquainted with Endeavor.” He fixed an uncharacteristically stern look on Enji.

Enji restlessly rolled a shoulder. He had better things to do than watch All Might be buddy-buddy with an irritating redhead, now that he knew said redhead wasn’t a security risk. “We aren’t,” Enji growled. “We aren’t acquaintances,” he snapped when All Might’s face crumpled into a bemused frown.

“Then, Endeavor, this is Hisui!” All Might’s smile returned to its blinding effect full-force as he clapped a large hand on the redhead’s slim shoulder. “And Hisui-chan, you know of Endeavor.”

“Uh huh,” Hisui dryly agreed, his mismatched eyes flickering to Enji. “A real charmer.”

Enji bristled, but before he could respond, All Might asked, “So what’re you two doing down here? I thought you’d visit Aizawa-kun, Hisui-chan, or stay in the stands.”

“I wanted to talk with Todoroki-kun, Midoriya-kun, and Bakugou-kun real quick, to see if I can confirm something,” Hisui explained without averting his gaze, fidgeting, or any other physical signs of lying. It was like he wasn’t lying at all. “Endeavor found me down here and wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to cause trouble.”

Anger burned under his skin and made his flames flicker ominously as the redhead’s mismatched eyes slyly met Enji’s glare. All Might, of course, was oblivious to it.

“What a doting father!” All Might chuckled. “Don’t worry, Endeavor, Hisui-chan’s just going to give some pointers. He used to be a Hero himself, you know,” he said with a proud paternal air that made Enji’s lip curl in disgust.

“I’m just gonna…” Hisui trailed off as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder down the corridor and started slinking away.

“Go on.” All Might waved him off. “Let’s meet after the awards ceremony.”

“You got it, Toshi-san.” Hisui grinned and quickly disappeared down the corridor, leaving Enji with All Might.

“He used to be a Hero?” Enji demanded. He was already enduring All Might’s presence longer than he wanted to; he might as well get something for his trouble.

“Yes! He went by the Hero name Oracle. Of course, he was an Underground Hero much like Aizawa-kun, so he didn’t receive a lot of publicity, and not many people are aware he existed. He retired five years ago; he does consultation work now, mainly for the Police, but also for U.A. at Nedzu-kanchou’s request.”

“Retired? He can’t be older than twenty-five,” Enji scoffed.

“He’s thirty-one,” All Might corrected. “Unfortunately, retirement was his only option. He was severely injured fighting a Villain. It is…one of my biggest regrets,” he softly admitted. His slouched shoulders told Enji everything he needed to know about the circumstances that forced the redhead into retirement. But, as always, All Might bolstered himself up with enthusiasm and optimism he drew from some mystical source inside of him. “I’m glad I ran into you, Endeavor! It really has been a while. We should catch up. You can give me pointers on how to raise the next generation of Heroes. Todoroki-kun’s adept at using his Quirks, which is impressive for his age; his future as a Hero is extremely promising.”

“You think I’ll teach you anything? Remember this: I created the Hero that will surpass you,” Enji said as he turned away. “It’s the only reason I created that boy.”