#been a while since i cooked from scratch without a meal kit

[naomiknight-17]

Nearly 90 minutes of Jon and I working together to make this happen but look

Look how gorgeous this honey garlic tofu dish looks

I am so excited to eat it

[wearywinchester]

Good Enough

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes south and you can’t get past a loss, Dean helps you through it.

Requested by Anonymous: “Hi! I was just wanting to request and dean winchester x reader where the reader is struggling to deal with a hunt that didn’t go right and the person they were trying to save didn’t make it and dean helps the reader?”

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, guilt, injury, blood, comfort, fluff

If there’s anyone that knows you better than you know yourself, it’s Dean Winchester. He knows you like the back of his hand and it’s been like that for as long as he can remember. That being said, it takes a lot to get anything past him. It takes a whole lot to fool the green eyed hunter, no matter how good you are at telling him you’re fine. He knows the signs, he knows what to look for.

He knows.

This time was no different than before. He knew it the moment it happened, saw the look on your face, that frown you got that you don’t even realize you have. He knew it because it wasn’t like most other times when you lose someone on a hunt. Each time it happens it’s never easy, it’s never ideal when you lose people to some nasty monster that does nothing but prey upon people. They were monsters, that’s what they do.

It was never easy but he knows the difference between you brushing it off and accepting it, stuffing it down and moving on with the next hunt, and you brushing it off when it really digs down and bothers you. He knows that difference and he knows that lie.

You’re a strong hunter, the strongest one he knows and you certainly handle things in the department of working through your emotions a whole lot better than he can. So much better but even then you still have your moments, still have times where a hunt will bother you far too much for you to deal with that all on your own. He knows the signs, he knows exactly what to look out for.

The moment you lost her you shut down. Your gaze lingered and you did that thing you always do—you swallow real hard and you tense your jaw and he knows you’re trying to reign it in because if you don’t you’ll cry right then and there no matter how hard you deny it. You get real quiet, really dismissive and that’s the most telling thing about you. Your silence.

You’re quiet as you sit in the Impala, gaze fixed out of the window as you bite consistently on the inside of your cheek. You say nothing as you sit there and think of everything you did wrong as a hunter that night, everything you should’ve and could’ve done better, the things that wouldn’t have happened had you just done your job. They ran through your mind in a loop of torment and self doubt, every inadequacy you felt you had rising to the surface and boiling over.

The more you thought about just all the ways you possibly could have messed up the time, what the end result was, it made it all the more difficult to keep that tremble from your bottom lip. It made your stomach twist in knots and it made your head ache from suppressing those tears that just wouldn’t go away. It was hard, it was harder than ever to sit there and reign it in.

Dean only found a motel to stay at all of half an hour ago. That demon drug the two of you miles away and a few towns over. Sam wasn’t along, hung back at Jody’s with a broken arm and a busted ankle. There was only one room left at that motel and it just barely worked out that way for the two of you because there wouldn’t have been a bed for Sam. It took about two minutes for Dean to make that decision to skip out on the motel, to drive the extra miles just to get back to Jody’s that night. There’d be left overs of a home cooked meal for you to have, there’d be a much nicer bed for the two of you to share.

It’d be better on you than some tacky, old motel room for a change.

He glanced over at you, that’s what he did the entire drive was steal glances at you. Each and every time he was met with that same look, that same sorrowful look that screamed regret and guilt and he hated that the feeling even crossed your mind. He knew that’s what it was and he didn’t need to ask, it was clear as day what it was.

There wasn’t that much longer of a drive left, he knows that, but he finally felt it was a good time to slip his hand in yours. He knew it was because even though you were stubborn as hell when you were like this, he felt the way you scooted a little closer to him, he felt the way you toyed with the ring on his finger. Your gaze was still focused out the window.

He noticed the little things and it made all the difference in the world.

When you did finally get there, you were ever so quick to snag your duffel bag and go, to slip through the door with hopes of sneaking past any company. You weren’t in any shape to be around anyone, you looked worse for wear in far more ways than one. That quiver in your lip worsened and the clench in your jaw tightened.

Dean knew you’d disappear and he let you, he let you go off and have your space for a little while but he stayed close behind because he knew. He knows that no matter how hard you might try and look tough, no matter how hard you try and prove that you want to be by yourself, it isn’t true. You’ll never admit it but you don’t need to, he knows you don’t really want to be alone, and if there’s one person you really truly need, it’s Dean.

But he lets you have your space for a little while.

So, he checked on Sam, checked on Jody a while. He made conversation with them on how the hunt, didn’t give specifics but they knew it didn’t go so well. They knew because you were there to give them that hug you always do. He made conversation but you were on the very forefront of his mind, and he lingered, he did that until he couldn’t anymore.

You’d splashed water over your face a million times over, more and more until you felt even just a fraction better. You had your own bumps and bruises from the hunt but that was the least of your concerns. A few scrapes, a few bruises here and there was nothing compared to what happened that day.

You didn’t worry about yourself, didn’t want to, it wasn’t a big deal and it felt selfish to worry about what little damage you walked away from that hunt with. It could’ve been worse for you and it wasn’t, it should’ve been worse for you and it wasn’t. That very idea played through your mind over and over without pause. You had to expect this kind of thing on a hunt, that’s what happens as a hunter, but it hurts every single time.

Usually you can brush these things off. Usually you can push it to the very corners of your mind and move onto the next hunt with just as much optimism as before, with just as much courage as before. You could take things as they come and you could accept the downfalls of being a hunter for what it was because at the end of the day these things were monsters.

When you thought about it that way, it didn’t seem so bad. It made it feel like you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, they were supernatural monsters that most people don’t even believe in till they see it for themselves. You knew it was bound to happen, you knew the job wasn’t ever going to be perfect. You knew it but you couldn’t believe it this time.

You rifled through your bag where you’d tossed it on the bed, looking for something you didn’t quite remember. Something, anything to busy your mind and the building pressure behind your eyes. You were frazzled, bursting at the seams and you knew it.

The knock at the door made you jump a little, but you didn’t look up, you knew who it was. You tried to ignore the burning ache running along the heel of your hand, the jagged scratch along your skin more and more painful as it sits under the scrap of bandana tied over it. You tried to hide it so Dean wouldn’t fuss over you, so he didn’t worry because he’d been through enough that day.

“Hey,” he said softly, gently as he walked in the room with the kindest smile.

“Hey,” you say, all the more softer as you dig around some more, letting out a frustrated huff as you lose your train of thought.

“Y/n.”

You didn’t hear him at first, too caught up in your own mind, in your own looping guilt that ate away at you. Too caught up in trying your hardest not to give it up and cry in front of him because that’s the last thing you wanted to do. But it was becoming increasingly obvious as you all but dumped the contents of your duffel bag on the bed, only to realize it was Dean’s.

You let out a frustrated groan as you pick up his clothes you’d tousled around, putting them back in their rightful bag before going for your own. You weren’t yourself and that much was clear, each second that passed you were handling things worse and worse and he saw the way your frown tugged ever so softly at the corners of your mouth. He saw the way you clenched your jaw.

“Y/n.”

You look up at him, gaze meeting his for the first time since that hunt a couple hours back. Your eyes are quick to move, though, fixating on the cut above his eyebrow, the crimson slowly but steadily beginning to trickle down his temple once more. Then they bounce to the cut across the bridge of his freckled nose, swollen and pale purple around it. They went from his nose to the one on his cheek, to the blood staining in his hair. Then you circle back to his gaze, the mere sight of the concern pooling in his eyes having your own begin to gloss over.

All that, all of that was from saving you as you tried to save her back there. Those cuts and bruises he’s got on his face, any bit of pain he was in had guilt bubbling in the pit of your stomach, twisting in knots because you felt you were solely to blame for it.

You swallowed thickly and he saw that too, that thing you always did, and you cleared your throat quickly. You snagged your first aid kit from your bag once you realized that’s what you were looking for.

“Let me patch you up,” you say, and he can hear every ounce of your emotions in your words. He could hear it in your tone and he could see it in that look you’ve got on your face.

His shoulders slump a little and his brows furrow, lips pursing softly as he looks at you with that realization. He can see it in the way your gaze lingers on those cuts in his face a little too long for it not to be so.

“Sweetheart, don’t tell me you think this is your fault,” Dean says, soft and hopeful that you don’t.

You swallow thickly, biting the inside of your cheek as you look at him with that crease between your brows. That tremble in your lip is back, that stupid thing that gives away just how bad you’re really hurting.

“I know it is, Dean,” you say quietly, toying with the kit in your hand as you narrow your gaze up at him.

You watch as his lips purse a little more, as that furrow in his brows becomes all the more apparent.

“Y/n, it wasn’t—”

“Let me patch you up, Dean,” you said once more, a little louder than the last.

He looks at you, at that look you’ve got, one look and he caves. One looks and he’s sighing, following you to the bathroom. There’s not a chance he’s blaming you for getting a little roughed up back there, he never would. He made that choice to step in and snag you before that demon could get you too while you tried to save that girl. He made that choice and if he came out of it a little bloody then so be it. He’ll take it over losing you any day.

He takes a seat on the toilet lid, patient as ever as he gazes up at you with all the softness in the world. It nearly makes you fall apart right then and there, but you don’t.

You take a breath and you dampen a cotton pad with an antiseptic, your good hand settling on his cheek. You feel the soft scratch of his stubble under your palm, you can feel the little bit of tension in his jaw but the looks he’s giving you isn’t indicative of any malice, isn’t indicative of any anger you felt you should have gotten.

Your thumb brushes over his cheek softly before you wipe away the blood that started to run down his temple. He closed his eyes briefly at the sting it evoked, you could feel a little more tension in his jaw but he didn’t say anything. You wanted to say you were sorry, you wanted to say it a million times.

He could see the way your hands trembled as you worked, and he could see it when you dropped some of the first aid supplies. You were crumbling more and more under the weight of this hunt and it was becoming increasingly more obvious the more time that ticks by. The more thought you put into the events that transpired that day.

He nudged you with his knee as you stood between his thighs, pulling your attention once more and you saw the smile tugging upwards at the corners of his mouth.

“‘Member that one hunt at the circus, that spirit masking as that goofy lookin’ clown?” He asks.

You nod softly, and he sees the corner of your mouth quirks up as soft as ever, nearly unnoticeable.

“Sam was so focused on avoiding that damn thing, so on edge that he thought I was that clown. Hit me square across the head and ran like a bat outta hell.” He chuckled softly at the memory as you cleaned him up, your smile widening just a fraction. “Knocked me flat on my ass and had my head spinnin’ for a good while. But you know who was right there with me, kept that spirit away from me while I was down?”

You tilt your head, sighing at his words. “Dean.”

“You did, Y/n/n. I was toast if you wouldn’t have been there and you know it.”

He watched that frown come along again, saw that furrow in your brows and he knows you’re still blaming yourself for what happened earlier. He knows it and it tears him up.

You put a couple butterfly closure strips across the cut above his eyebrow, and one across the bridge of his nose. You clean him up and clean that blood that’s worked it’s way in his hair along the edges. That apology is still sitting heavy on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be spoken a thousand times over to a man who won’t accept a single one unbeknownst to you. He won’t accept it because there’s nothing to be sorry for.

He can see the way you’re biting the inside of your cheek, gnawing away at it the way you do when you’re trying your very hardest not to cry. You don’t want to do that, not even a little bit, but the threat of you crumbling to pieces in front of him is becoming a little more real with each passing moment.

He looks a little better now that he’s cleaned up, now that he’s got those bandages on and that sweet smile that you know you don’t deserve. He looks better but he’s still hurt and that’s what’s nagging at you, that’s what’s wearing away at you. Two people got hurt today because of you, two people got hurt and one of them didn’t make it out alive. All because of you.

Your lip wobbles and you’re so close to losing it, so close to losing that stubbornness you’ve built up all for the sake of looking tough. That dam was about to break and you didn’t want it to.

“How ‘bout I take care of you now, sweetheart? I know your hand’s bust up pretty good,” he says, trying his best to take the heat off of you because he knows how much you don’t want to cry.

“‘M fine, Dean,” you say, stubborn as ever but he doesn’t care.

He takes your hand, turning it palm side up. He’s careful as he unties the knot in that bandana, unraveling it and pulling the bloodied fabric away. His eyes bounce to the jagged cut running along the heel of your hand, stretching all the way across to your palm. It was angry and red, and it wasn’t quite done bleeding.

You weren’t fine, you were hurt and he wouldn’t believe you for a second if you told him again that you were fine.

“Demon got you good, didn’t he?” He said he stood up, urging you to sit down in his place.

“Could have been worse. Should have been,” you say softly, and you see the faint purse of his lips and that crease between his brows.

You’re not done beating yourself up about this one and he knows it, he knows how fragile you feel and he hates that he can do better for you. He hates that he can make you see it the way he does. Because it’s not your fault. It’s that simple, it’s not your fault.

He takes your hand in his once more, palm up as he looks it over. It’s not deep enough for any stitches, but it’s nasty enough to hurt a good one for a while. It’s bad enough to know that you’re not fine. He can see it in the way you try and tug your hand away when that dreaded peroxide comes in contact with it.

You wince as it bubbles and stings, searing across your palm as his grip remains around your wrist, his palm against the back of your hand. His thumb runs back and forth against your skin as he looks at it and at you. He wipes away the excess and the blood, wipes everything carefully to keep from upsetting the wound further and to keep from hurting you in the process any more than he has to to clean it up.

That wobble in your lip is worse than ever with round two, that pent up guilt overflowing and cracking at the walls you tried so hard to keep intact. They cracked and they cracked as he patched you up, wiping your hand clean as he grabbed a cotton pad and a roll of gauze.

It hurt, it hurt way more than you let on and it was quickly becoming too much to handle as he started wrapping your hand much more securely than before. He was gentle, but the built up emotion, that pressure behind your eyes, the weight of it all was too much to bear for a moment longer and the second he looked at you, that first tear rolled down over heated cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, kneeling down in front of you, “don’t go cryin’ on me now, sweetheart.”

His words were soft as his hand settled on your cheek, thumbing away the tear that fell and the few others that followed it. “Talk to me.”

You look at him, at those bandages he’s got, you look at the way his flannel is torn and the blood you missed in his hair. You look at him, you think about that hunt. You think about what went wrong that day, what went so horribly wrong and the way everything happened. You thought about it and you thought about the nagging and numbing pain in your hand and that’s when it tumbled out.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck as he knelt there in front of you. “It’s all my fault.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, pulling you up as he stands. Your arms drop to wrap and his waist then, his grip on you tighter now as he tucks you under his chin. “Please don’t say that.”

He wasn’t going to let you blame yourself and that much was clear. He wasn’t going to let you even when you tried your hardest to make him believe it. That frustration came bubbling back in the midst of your tears, that stubbornness came back as you broke away from his embrace.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, Dean. You don’t have to try and make things better just to spare my feelings.”

You turned away from him and wiped your tears, but you felt that gentle grip on your elbow, you felt him turn you back around and tug you in close again. You wanted that, you needed that real bad and you weren’t about to push it away a second time.

You hugged around his waist once more, face hidden against heaps of flannel and his t-shirt as he held you, steady and warm. His chin rested atop your head first before he moved to press his cheek atop it, breaking every now and then to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmurs after a little while, your crying having died down to stray tears that came and went. “It ain’t even close. You know why?”

You shook your head against him, whispering a soft response.

“We did the best we could today. You did the best you could. I know it sucks and I know it hurts, damn does it hurt sometimes, but sometimes we lose that fight,” he says against the top of your head before kissing your head, pressing his cheek there once more. “But we get back up and we try again the next day. Hunting ain’t easy, and I’ll be the first to admit I don’t cope very well. You know that, sweetheart.”

He pulls back to look at you when you tip your head back, looking at you with a heavy gaze as he thumbs away those tears. You’ve got that unintentional pout as you reach up, you reach up and brush your thumb over that cut on his forehead.

“You’re hurt because of me, Dean.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up as he chuckles softly, bittersweet and he sees the way your gaze narrows.

“If takin’ a couple blows from a black eyed douchebag means I still get to have you here, I’ll take it,” he says, and it doesn’t help your frown.

“It’s not funny, Dean,” you grumble, exhaling a soft huff.

“Maybe a little bit,” he says, shrugging lightly and you roll your eyes, your lip still wobbling. He sighs softly, pressing a kiss to your temple before looking at you once more. “We can’t save everybody, sweetheart. It hurts, I know it does, I’m the freakin’ poster child for stuffin’ things down because I don’t wanna deal with it. I’m the worst at dealing with things. But bein’ a hunter ain’t easy. We try our best, every day we try our best. So don’t think for a second that I’m gonna blame you for this. For any of it.”

You’ve still got that narrowed stare but it softens a little, and you’ve still got that quiver in your lip but his words ease the weight in your shoulders a little bit more. Every time the thought of that hunt crosses your mind, it sends a jolt through you, makes you want to cry all over it again. It hurts and it will for a little while.

But he’s got you.

“I love you,” you whisper softly, nodding as you lean up on your toes and press a kiss on his cheek, and one to his lips. You sink back on your feet and rest your head over his heart as he squeezes you a little tighter, kissing the crown of your head.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he says, softer than soft as his brows furrow at your sniffle, at that last bit of tears you’ve got left to get out.

It was hard, it was beyond hard to lose someone in a hunt. But it’s moments like these that make it better. He’s got you.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho @lyarr24 @malindacath @happyt0exist @awkward-and-indecisive @ajreturnstocringeyaccount

[supernaturalgirl20]

Catching Feelings

Pairings: Marcus Moreno x nanny!reader

Warnings: Smut +18, fluff, angst, mutual pining.

Summary: After your sex filled dream about your new boss, your about to meet his daughter. This isn’t going to be awkward at all, right?!

*As always comments and reblogs appreciated*

Chapter 2:

The evening arrived sooner than anticipated. As the car that Marcus had sent round for you pulled into the drive, you find yourself gaping at the beautiful rustic home. You get out of the car and make your way to the front door, your nervous, which isn't helped by the fact you had illicit thoughts about Marcus last night. Oh god! Those hands and the thought of them slipping between your legs. No! Focus. You ring the door bell. Your lost in thought when a voice startles you

"Oh thank god your here, come in quick. Can you cook?"

"Uh.....yeah I'm not bad at it. I make a mean chicken alfredo"!

"Fuck.....sorry sorry.....Missy I didn't just say that."

“Is everything ok?”I say looking towards the kitchen. Missy grabs me by the hand and pulls along. I’m greeted to the sight of pure chaos. Marcus is hunched over the sink, seemingly in defeat and I can’t help myself I let out a laugh. He turns around with lightening speed, his hand goes to scratch the back of his head. Something he must do when he’s nervous. I catch a tinge of pink on his face.

“He’s a disaster in the kitchen, seriously you should see what he does to eggs.” I turn to Missy

“Ok, here’s the plan. How about me and you clean up this mess and then you can help me cook something up?” Shrugging her shoulders she says “sure.”

“Uh.. I will just..”

I turn to Marcus “ you….will go relax and we will call when foods ready.”

“Are you sure, I feel bad.”

“Dad just go.”

Holding his hands up in defeat “ ok ok, I know where I’m not wanted.” With Marcus gone Missy turns to you “ok let’s get to it.”

***

With the kitchen clean you fish out the ingredients to do your chicken Alfredo, explaining each step to Missy as you go.

“Is it always this chaotic at dinner or was that just for my benefit you say with humour in your voice. Missy let’s out a snort.

“Oh no that’s pretty much how it around here. My mom. Used to do the coming and since she’s gone dad tries his best but… I don’t know. My abuela normally cooks.” You see she is getting sad talking about her mom so you change the subject.

“Ok looks ready, give your dad a shout”

You all sat together around the table. “This is delicious, you are amazing.”

“Oh …thank you”

“Missy is right, this is the best meal I’ve had in a long time, really thank you. Also maybe don’t tell my mom I just said that.” You laugh at the fact that this grown man, and a heroic no less is still afraid of mom. Catching his eyes, his gaze is searing into you, you look away quickly trying to distract yourself . Standing you go to clear the table but are stopped with a hand on your wrist. Looking up you meet those warm brown eyes again. “No, you’ve done more than enough tonight. Leave all the cleaning to me and Missy.You can go sit in my study and I’ll bring you a glass of wine. Oh it’s just down the end of the hall.”

“Um… ok thank you.” Once you arrive into his study you can’t help but notice all the pictures he has. One in particular catches your eye. It’s one of Marcus kissing his wife the day Missy was born.

“I love that picture.” You jump slightly having not expected him to be there. “ I’m sorry I wasn’t snooping I just..”

“It’s ok, if your going to be living here you should know about our family.” You look up at him surprised “does that mean I got the job?”

“You we’re amazing tonight” he says moving closer, so close you can feel the warmth coming off his body. “Plus you have the Missy deal of approval, which really is the most important thing.” It’s as if she knew her name has been mentioned. She came bustling down the stairs all kitted out for bed. She comes up to you and without eating wraps you in a hug.

“I’m so happy your going to be living here with us, and thank you again for the nice food.” With that she ran back up the stairs to bed. Marcus gestures for you to sit.

“You have a beautiful home” you say looking around the room.

“It is…beautiful.” Clearing his throat he takes a seat beside you, leaving a comfortable amount of space between you. Your not sure if your relieved or disappointed. You make conversation by asking him about his wife. He takes a sip of wine before he speaks.

“It’s been four years since she passed. It was a car accident, drunk driver, she died instantly. He suddenly go quiet and stares at the floor like it’s the most fascinating thing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned her.” “It’s ok, it’s only fair you know these things. Enough about me, tell me what makes you thick?”

“Me, oh gosh. I suppose family really. It’s why I jumped at this opportunity, I love children. It’s probably why I want a big family of my own one day.” He’s looking at you that way again. There’s something behind his eyes, you think it’s admiration.

“ I feel the exact same way. Everything that I do, it’s for Missy. Nothing else matters.”

“She’s a wonderful kid, you should be really proud.”

“Thank you.” Your suddenly aware that you both have somehow moved closer and your breath catches when you look into those brown eyes. A bolt of confidence course through you and you lean towards him. Marcus mimics your actions. As you inch closer you close your eyes. He whispers your name and you can’t tell if it’s a promise or a warning. Your still dreaming when he spills his wine all over you. “I’m so sorry here let me get something to dry that up” he’s says as he leaves the rooms be arrives back with a towel, and a change of clothes. “ I’m afraid this is all I have.” You look down to the clothes he has and notice there his own, a t shirt.

“No, thank you these are perfect.” With that he leaves you to change while he goes and refills the wine. When he walks back in he almost drops the glasses. His eyes rake over your body and he feels himself getting hard his thick cock straining in his pants. Seeing you there in his clothes is doing things to him. It’s making him almost feral. He wants to posses you. He is brought out of his thought when you move to take the glass from him.

***

You spend hours chatting getting to know each other when you look at his clock. “Oh god, I better go, I didn’t realise the time”. You go to stand.

“You can stay, I mean here, in the spare room, if you want?” Thinking it over for just a moment “that would be great actually.”

“Ok I can show you where to go.” As you enter the room you see a large king size bed, and the images from your dream flood your mind.

“I want you to ride me baby.”

“Y/N?”

“Sorry did you say something?” “ I said you can start moving your stuff in whenever you like.”

“Brilliant.”

Your unconsciously biting your lip and when you meet his gaze you notice his eyes are fixed on your mouth. You run your tongue along the bottom lip,knowing he is watching you. He clears his throat “ok uh…I guess I’ll let you get settled for the night”. He makes to leave when you say

“You could stay here too!” He stops suddenly turning to look at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. Afraid you have ruined everything you say “I’m so sorry, forget I said anything, thank you again…” Your rambling is cut short as his presses his lips to your hungrily. His hands trace the curve of your body, slipping under your top to grab your breast. You let out a moan. Suddenly he pulls away and rests his head to yours. “Are you sure you want this, I won’t be able to stop once we start.” “I’ve thought of nothing else since we met yesterday. Please Marcus, I need you to fuck me.”

He wastes no time and pushes you onto the bed removing the sweatpants he lent you earlier along with the t-shirt. Your laying on the bed in nothing but your underwear and he can’t take his eyes off you. “Your gorgeous.” “Marcus you have too many clothes on” you say with a slight pout. Stripping himself so he is completely bare before you,you gulp as you take in his thick cock. Will that even fit! He crawls on top of you and you moan when his obvious desire for your comes in contact with your core. You rock against him. He rolls onto his back pulling you with him so you are now straddling him. His hands run up and down your spine sending sparks of electricity through you. He moves to unclasp your bra “you won’t be needing this anymore.” Your nipples grow hard as they meet the cool air and you let out a gasp as he runs his tongue over its peak. Your growing inpatient now so you quickly remove your thong and line him up at your entrance. Slowly you sink down on him and his head pushes back into the pillow as he groans in pleasure. “Jesus, your so fucking tight.” You pick up your pace as you ride him letting out a loud moan. He puts a hand over your mouth “you gotta be…quiet…don’t….want…Missy..to…hear us” He look down to where your joined watching as his cock moves in and out of you “this pussy was made for me, isn’t that right baby?” Your unable to speak as your body is thrown into ecstasy. Without warning he flips you over and begins pounding into. He can feel his balls tighten as he nears his release. “Where…do ..you want..me?” “Inside, I’m clean and on the pill.” With that he fills you up, you can feel his release dripping out of you. He moves off you and makes his way into the bathroom. Arriving back with a cloth to clean you up. He gets back into bed beside you and wraps his arm around your waist. “That is not how I pictured tonight going at all.” You laugh “me either.” “You should get some sleep” he says and you feel your eyes getting heavy as you give in to the tiredness.

The next morning you wake to sunlight shining on your face. As you turn over you realise your alone. You put your hand on the side Marcus was and it’s cold, meaning he’s gone a while. You flop back onto the bed and put your hand on your forehead. Oh god what have I done.

Previous/next

Tagging:

@lunaserenade , @asta-lily , @maievdenoir , @librariantothejedi , @seasonschange-butpeopledont , @elinedjarin , @day-off-inkyoto @toomanystoriessolittletime

If you want to be added or removed please let me know.

[thelazyhermits]

Touching Hearts

As I mentioned in this post, I’ve finally started watching season 4 of the anime, and because of that, I’m remembering things I had forgotten about since it’s been a while since I last read about those arcs in the manga.

One such thing I forgot about was how beat up Todoroki and Bakugou get from their provisional license training, which is mentioned at the beginning of the Overhaul arc, so I decided to write a scene focused on that which takes place directly after chapter 38 of TABF.

I hope y’all enjoy it! ^-^

After you convince Yagi to meet with Nighteye, the retired hero nervously calls his former sidekick in hopes to arrange a meeting with him. Much to his surprise, Nighteye quickly agrees and says you both can come by tomorrow afternoon.

Of course, you aren’t nearly as surprised as Yagi is. After all, there’s no way a diehard All Might fan like Nighteye could ever turn down a request from the former number one hero himself. Plus, you’re sure that he was happy to hear that Yagi wanted to speak with him, even though you bet he’s wondering what the reason behind the visit is since Yagi didn’t go into details.

Once that meeting has been set up and you’ve properly cleaned your tear-stained face, you and Yagi make arrangements to set up a meeting with Nedzu and Aizawa to let them know about the current situation at hand.

As expected, neither Nedzu or Aizawa are thrilled when they hear the news of Nighteye’s impending death, and the latter especially dislikes the thought of you trying to prevent it because of your drawback. 

Thankfully, in the end, you and Yagi manage to convince him to allow you both to meet with Nighteye tomorrow since you can’t just ignore your vision. You have to do something.

However, it takes a while to do that, so by the time you finally start heading back to the dorm, you’re completely exhausted, emotionally because of that horrific vision you had about Nighteye, mentally because of that meeting with Aizawa, and physically since you had training with Shinsou after that meeting finally concluded. 

That’s why you have every intention to go to bed early tonight, so you’ll be well-rested for tomorrow’s meeting with Nighteye. And you’re honestly just too tired to do anything besides cook dinner at this point, well anything except for giving Midoriya a big hug, of course, since you know he had an equally rough day and you will never be too tired to shower him with the affection and support he deserves. Plus, hugging him always makes you feel better, so it’s only natural that you take every opportunity to do so, especially on a day like today.

While you follow through with your plan to hug Midoriya once you return to the dorm, your plans to turn in early tonight end up changing when dinner comes and goes without you seeing Bakugou or Todoroki. Apparently, since it’s Sunday, today’s provisional license training is an all day affair.

Aizawa had told you as much earlier today, but you didn’t think he literally meant all day, considering how early the boys left this morning. Naturally, that just makes you wonder what kind of training they are going through that lasts from sunrise to sunset, obviously the really intense kind.

No doubt Todoroki and Bakugou will be exhausted by the time they return to the dorm. You just hope they won’t be too battered and beaten since you heard from the other UA teachers that Ganga Orca is a tough instructor.

Since you’re worried about your students, you can’t bring yourself to go to bed until they safely return to the dorm. That’s why, when everyone else turns in for the night, you remain in the living room and wait for the boys.

Fortunately, you don’t have to wait long since Bakugou and Todoroki both arrive shortly after their classmates turn in for the night. When they do, you discover that your wish for them to not be too battered and beaten was in vain.

With a gasp, you hurry over to the surprised boys, so you can get a better look at their injuries. “Are you two alright?! I heard Ganga Orca was a tough instructor, but I didn’t think you two would come back looking this beat up!”

Todoroki blinks, “We’re alright. None of our injuries are serious.”

He tilts his head. “What are you doing still up, Sensei? I thought everyone would be asleep by now.”

Frowning, you gently cup his injured cheek as you examine the damage done to his handsome face. “I didn’t want to go to bed before you two got home, and I’m glad I didn’t since you both need to get these injuries treated before you go to bed.”

Bakugou huffs, “You’re overreacting. These are just scratches. They’re nothing to make a big deal about.”

“Even so, we can’t ignore them.” You reply as you pull your hand away from Todoroki’s face. “So, after you two have eaten dinner, I’ll help you take care of them.”

Just as you turn to head for the kitchen, a question comes to mind, making you pause. “Or do you guys need to take a shower first?”

Todoroki shakes his head. “They had shower stalls at the building where our training was held, so we took showers after we changed out of our hero costumes.”

“Good.” You resume heading toward the kitchen. “In that case, just take a seat at the dining table, and I’ll bring out the food I set aside for you two.”

Rather than oblige, Bakugou drops the briefcase carrying his hero costume and follows after you. “I can carry my own fucking food. You don’t need to bring it to me.”

After Todoroki copies his classmate’s actions, he adds, “I can carry mine too. You don’t have to go out of your way for our sake, Sensei.”

Obviously, these two aren’t as exhausted as you first thought if they have enough energy to argue with you. You suppose you should take that as a good sign.

“Alright.” You huff, “I’ll show you what all I set aside for you in the fridge, and then, I’ll take care of getting some drinks for us.”

Not long after that, the three of you find yourselves at the dining table. While your students eat their food, you just drink from the water bottle you grabbed for yourself.

Rather than try talking to your students, you just watch them devour the food you prepared for them since they’re obviously more interesting in eating than chatting. You had expected they would have strong appetites after the long day they had, and you were right. It’s a good thing you made sure to prepare ample portions for them.

Once he has gotten through half of his meal, Shouto finally takes notice of what Bakugou is eating and tilts his head curiously. “I didn’t notice this earlier, but Bakugou and I are eating completely different meals. Why is that? Shouldn’t these just be leftovers from tonight’s dinner?”

Apparently, Bakugou didn’t notice that either, judging from the way he pauses his eating to examine his and his classmate’s dinner. When the blond later turns to raise an eyebrow at you, you chuckle, “Those aren’t leftovers from tonight’s dinner. Those are dishes I made after dinner.”

A grin forms on your lips. “I wanted to make you each your favorite foods once I realized what a long day you would be having since I wanted to make sure your day ended on a good note. After all, nothing’s better than eating food that you love after a long day, right?”

The corners of Todoroki’s lips tilt slightly upwards. “That’s true. My day definitely improved thanks to your delicious soba. Thank you, Sensei.”

As you return the ice user’s smile, Bakugou returns his attention to his food. “Your spicy food still isn’t anywhere near the level of spiciness my cooking has, but it’s not bad.”

An amused huff escapes you. “Thanks, and I’ll be sure to keep the spice level in mind the next time I make something spicy for you.”

Once that conversion concludes, the boys resume eating. Since it shouldn’t be long until they finish, you leave the table to collect the first aid kit that’s kept in the kitchen, so you can be ready to treat their injuries once they finish eating.

Fortunately, even though you know Bakugou finds your mothering to be annoying, he doesn’t try to make a break for it as soon as he and Todoroki finish eating. Instead, the blond takes care of cleaning his dishes and throws away his trash like his classmate does before returning to the dining table.

When you give him an approving smile after he takes a seat at the table, Bakugou scowls at you in return, but thankfully, he doesn’t do anything else. Still, you know he’ll be far from a model patient, so you decide to save him for last since you know Todoroki won’t give you any trouble.

Just as you expected, Todoroki just quietly sits at the table as you begin treating all of his injuries, only speaking whenever you ask him if he’s in any pain. Each time you ask him if your actions are hurting him, he assures you that he’s fine much to your relief.

That relief quickly turns tino frustration when you begin treating the scrapes on Todoroki’s face. “Honestly, what was Ganga Orca thinking, allowing such a handsome face to get injured like this? If the ladies of Japan saw you looking like this, they would all cry!”

Todoroki’s eyes widen slightly. “Really? How come?”

While Bakugou rolls his eyes, you answer, “Because nothing is sadder to a girl than seeing a handsome guy’s face get ruined! Looks like yours should be treasured, not treated like this! Doesn’t Ganga Orca realize a face like yours will eventually become one of Japan’s greatest treasures?!”

He continues to stare at you in amazement. “I didn’t realize my face was so important.”

Bakugou scoffs, “It’s not. Sensei’s just exaggerating. The only thing that stands out about your face is how fucking annoying it is.”

Just as you’re about to scold the hothead for his words, an idea comes to mind, making you grin. “Aw, Bakugou, is that jealousy I hear? Are you upset that I'm complimenting Todoroki’s face and not yours?”

His face reddens. “Hah?! Don’t be stupid! Like I give a fuck about that!”

Your grin grows. “I dunno. You sure sounded jealous to me.”

“There’s no need to be jealous, Bakugou.” Todoroki calmly says, “You have a nice face too.”

While you snort at Todoroki’s innocent compliment, Bakugou glowers at him. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Half-and-Half?! I’ll kill you!”

Confused, Todoroki tilts his head. “No? Why would you think that?”

Before Bakugou can retort, you intervene. “Todoroki is right, though. You do have a handsome face just like he does, Bakugou.”

With a grin, you add, “Although, I’m worried about it going to waste, considering how much you’re always scowling. You know, if you keep making faces like that, your face might get stuck like that forever.”

Todoroki frowns, “That wouldn’t be good. You should be careful, Bakugou, so that won’t happen.”

As you fight the urge to laugh at the stoic boy’s show of genuine concern, Bakugou’s scowl deepens. “It won’t! So, fuck off! Nobody asked for either of your opinions!”

Chuckling, you finish up bandaging the rest of Todoroki’s injuries. “Just giving you a friendly warning. After all, you want to surpass All Might, don’t you?”

Bakugou raises an eyebrow at you. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

Once you’ve taken care of Todoroki, you begin tending to the blond’s injuries, taking full advantage of his distraction caused by your earlier comment. “In order to fully surpass All Might, you have to beat him in all aspects, right? Well, that obviously means you’ll have to have a smile that can outshine his, don’t you think?”

“That makes sense.” Todoroki agrees, “After all, when anyone thinks of All Might, one of the first things that come to mind is his smile since it’s so iconic.”

You give him a wink. “Exactly! If anyone ever hopes to beat All Might, then they better have a smile that can rival his. Otherwise, he’ll always remain number one in that category.”

When you return your focus to Bakugou, you see him frowning, wearing a contemplative expression. Obviously, he’s taking your words into serious consideration. 

Smiling, you finish bandaging one of his scrapes before ruffling his hair, making him scowl. “You’re amazing, Bakugou. There’s no question about that. You’re strong, smart, and talented among many other things.”

“However,” You raise a finger. “there is one important ability you and Todoroki both need to master before either of you can become the kind of pro hero who can surpass All Might.”

While Bakugou raises an eyebrow at you, Todoroki curiously asks, “And what ability is that?” 

Your earlier smile returns as you turn to point at his and Bakugou’s chests. “The ability to capture people’s hearts by touching their hearts and making your own hearts more apparent to the people you’re trying to protect.”

Noticing their twin looks of confusion, you elaborate, “The reason All Might was such an amazing hero wasn’t just because he was strong and talented. It was because he was amazing at touching people’s hearts by showing them his own.”

You rest a hand over your heart. “All Might gave people hope because they knew that no matter what he would always protect them, not just because he was the strongest but because he genuinely cared about everyone. Everyone could tell that he would always go beyond Plus Ultra to protect them because he considered them all equally important.”

Your expression softens. “That’s how I felt whenever I watched him on TV and in my visions. I could see how much he cared about others and how nothing was more important to him than maintaining the peace and giving others hope.”

When you lift your gaze to look at your students, you see them watching you intently, wearing contemplative expressions, proving that they’re deeply considering your words.

“Real heroes have the ability to not only save people’s lives but also their hearts,” You softly say, “and to some people, the latter is the most important ability a hero can have.”

“And that includes you?” Bakugou solemnly asks as he holds your gaze.

The corners of your lips curve upwards. “It does, because I wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for heroes that could save people’s hearts. That’s why I hope that you promising heroes-to-be will one day master that ability too.”

“I use the term ‘master’ because I’ve already experienced firsthand you both using such an ability. Although, I’m sure it wasn’t really intentional on either of your parts.” You add, earning some surprised looks from your students.

As you’re speaking, you think back to the I-Island incident and how Todoroki refused to leave your side and was determined to get you the medical attention you needed. Then, your memories drift toward the villain attack at the summer camp and how Bakugou refused to abandon you, even though it meant putting himself at risk.

Your smile softens. “One day, you both will able to intentionally touch people’s hearts in the same way you did mine. I have complete confidence in both of you since I know there’s nothing you two can’t do if you put your minds to it, so I have no doubt that you’ll both become amazing heroes that can outshine even All Might.”

For several seconds, your students just stare at you with slightly widened eyes, and then, Bakugou smirks, “Of course, I fucking will! I’m the guy who’s gonna be the next number one hero who surpasses All Might in every shape and form! I’ll master every fucking aspect of being a hero there is, so I’ll be the unequivocal number one!”

Todoroki nods, “I’ll work hard too, Sensei, to become a hero who can save lives and hearts. I won’t let you down.”

Grinning, you reach over to ruffle their hair. “I know. You two are always meeting and surpassing my expectations. This time won’t be any different.”

Both boys’ eyes gain a pleased gleam at your words, but Bakugou tries to hide it by averting his gaze. Rather than tease him about it, you just resume taking care of the rest of his injuries. 

As you’re doing this, Todoroki asks, “Do you think our training for our provisional licenses will help us get a better understanding of touching people’s hearts, or is that something we’re supposed to learn during our lessons here at UA?”

You hum thoughtfully. “I’m not sure what all the training for your provisional licenses entails, so I can’t say for sure about that. But as far as your school lessons are concerned, I’m sure you’ll eventually get lessons focused on that aspect of heroics. Although, I would think heroes-in-training would mostly get those kinds of lessons when they’re out in the field.”

Bakugou tilts his head. “Because it means interacting with actual civilians?”

Nodding, you give him an approving smile. “Exactly. The best way for heroes to touch people’s hearts is by learning how to understand the people they’re protecting, which happens by getting closer to them. Doing this helps both parties come to learn more about each other, which leads to trust building between them.”

After you finish tending to the last of Bakugou’s injuries, you begin putting up everything that you took out of the first aid kit. “Trust is key to touching people’s hearts. It’s important that you both become the kind of hero that people know they can trust and rely on no matter what happens.”

Once everything has been put away, you turn to face your students and smile, “You both have already proven to me that you’re strong and capable heroes that I can rely on and trust. Now, you just have to figure out how to do that with everyone else. It won’t be easy since social interactions aren’t really either of your forte, but I know you both can do it.”

While Todoroki gives you a determined nod, Bakugou just averts his gaze with a huff. “Obviously.”

Getting an idea, you cheerfully clap your hands together. “However, as your teacher, I shouldn’t make you do all that hard work without, at least, first imparting a little helpful advice.”

Once you have their undivided attention, you continue, “Obviously, as I mentioned before, one of the main things you both need to do is develop your own hero smile, so by the time you guys graduate, you must have a smile that can put everyone’s hearts at ease.”

As expected, Bakugou makes a face at your words while Todoroki just gives you another nod. Obviously, that one task in itself is going to be difficult for them due their personalities and typical demeanors, but you know smiling isn’t impossible for them. It’s just not something they choose to often do.

There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, as far as their daily lives are concerned. It’s only when they’re on the field, working as pro heroes, that they need to be able to implement what you consider to be one of a hero’s most important assets.

Once you’ve reaffirmed the importance of that ability, you decide to share the idea you came up with earlier. “Another important thing you two should work on is communicating with the people you’re supposed to protect in a way that will assure them that everything will be alright now that you’re there for them.”

With a grin, you wink, “And you should also make good use of those good looks you both have while you’re at it to win their hearts over even more.”

While Bakugou raises an eyebrow at you, Todoroki gives you a curious look. “How do we do that?”

Your grin grows. “I’ll show you! Just pretend you’re a civilian who got caught up in a villain attack, alright?”

Once you get a nod from him, you grab Todoroki’s hands and hold them in between yours. As he stares at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion, you hold his gaze and give him the most reassuring smile you can muster. “It’ll be alright. You’re safe now. I’m here, so you don’t need to worry anymore. I’ll protect you no matter what. I won’t let anyone lay a single finger on you.”’

You give his hands a reassuring squeeze as your smile softens. “So, don’t be scared. A look like that doesn’t suit your handsome face. The world would be much better off if you were smiling instead since a smile like yours can make even the darkest of days seem bright. That’s why I’ll fight with everything I have to protect that precious smile; I won’t let anyone ever take it away, I promise.”

While Bakugou gapes at you, Todoroki stares at you with slightly widened eyes. Obviously, you caught them both completely off guard with your performance.

When a few seconds pass without a response, you release Todoroki’s hands and grin, “So, what do you think, Todoroki? Did I make your heart skip a beat just now?”

He rests a hand over his heart. “There weren’t any irregularities with my heartbeat, but…”

“But?” You parrot, tilting your head curiously.

“My chest feels very warm now, all of a sudden.” Todoroki replies, “How strange.”

Giggling, you ruffle his hair. “That’s what it means to touch people’s hearts, Todoroki. That’s the kind of reaction you should be aiming for when you interact with the people you’re trying to protect.”

His expression appears thoughtful. “Come to think of it, I remember feeling similarly whenever I watched All Might on TV when I was a child. So, this is what it means to touch people’s hearts.”

Todoroki lifts his gaze to meet yours and gives you a small smile. “Thank you for showing me that, Sensei. I promise I’ll make good use of your example and your advice.”

“I have no doubt that you will.” You pat his head. “I have high hopes for you, Todoroki.”

When you later pull your hand away from his head, Todoroki adds, “I promise I’ll also take better care of my face in the future since I don’t want you or any of the other ladies of Japan to cry.”

A laugh escapes you. “Good to hear! You gotta take good care of that face of yours since it’s gonna be one of your greatest assets when you’re a pro hero.”

Bakugou, who has been quiet all this time, finally breaks his silence with a scoff. “Only if he ever learns how to stop being so fucking annoying all the time.”

While you give him an exasperated look, Bakugou rises to his feet and asks, “Are we done here, Sensei?”

With a sigh, you nod, “Yeah, I’m done treating both of your injuries, so you two are free to go. Sorry for keeping you both up when I’m sure you’re both beyond exhausted.”

Todoroki shakes his head. “You don’t need to apologize. If anything, we should be thanking you for staying up late for our sake. Right, Bakugou?”

The blond clicks his tongue. “Whatever.”

While the boys move to collect their briefcases containing their hero costumes, you quickly return the first aid kit to the kitchen before rejoining them in the living room. As you all begin heading for the elevators, you ask, “So, what did you think of the example I provided for Todoroki, Bakugou? Do you think that’s something you can do?”

“Of course, I can!” Bakugou huffs, “There’s nothing I can’t do, so I won’t have any issue doing something like that.”

Even though he says that, you have a feeling accomplishing such a task will be more difficult than he thinks once he finally tries it out, considering his less than ideal social skills. While you have full faith in him, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’ll struggle with this aspect of heroics for at least a little while since it’s completely foreign territory to him.

“I’m not as confident as Bakuguou since I’m not used to doing something like that, but I’m going to work hard.” Todoroki comments, “Hopefully, by the time we get our provisional licenses, I’ll be ready to try touching people’s hearts.”

“It might take you a little while, but you’ll definitely get there, Todoroki.” You assure him. “Until then, just keep working hard and doing your best like you always do.”

Around that time, the three of you come to a stop in front of the elevators. Just as you’re about to hit the button for the elevator you’ll be taking, you suddenly realize you had almost forgotten something very important. “I almost forgot!”

Both Todoroki and Bakugou, who were about to enter the elevator which will take them to the boys’ side of the dorm, pause at your exclamation. 

Before either of them can question you, you reach over to pat their heads, smiling all the while. “Welcome home, Bakugou, Todoroki. Good work today. I’m proud of you both.”

The two stare at you with surprise for a brief moment, and then, their features relax.

A slight smile rises to Todoroki’s lips. “I’m home, Sensei. Also, thank you for dinner and for taking care of my injuries.”

Bakugou averts his gaze. “I’m home.”

After a brief pause, he then mutters, “And thanks.”

Immediately, after those two words passes his lips, Bakugou hurries into the elevator before you can say anything else. Not wanting to be left behind, Todoroki quickly follows after him. 

Chuckling, you give them a parting wave. “Good night, you two. See you in the morning.”

Just before the elevator door closes, Todoroki returns the parting. You don’t hear anything from Bakugou, but you figure that’s to be expected. 

With a smile, you turn to enter the elevator that will take you to the girls’ side of the dorm. As you’re riding the elevator, you think back to the discussion you had with Todoroki and Bakugou.

Those two definitely both have the potential to become the kinds of heroes that can save people’s hearts. It won’t be easy, but I have full faith that they can overcome any obstacles that come their way.

Just as you think that, your Quirk activates, showing you a vision of your students in the midst of their provisional license training.

Feeling a mixture of amused and surprised, you watch as Ganga Orca declares that Bakugou, Todoroki, Inasa, and the girl Toga impersonated, Utsushimi  Camie, all have to participate in a special training where they have to win the hearts of a bunch of primary schoolers since he says what the heroes-in-training need is “heart”.

Seems like Ganga Orca and I were on the same page. What are the chances?

Looks like Todoroki will be getting a lesson on touching people’s hearts during his provisional license training after all. Unfortunately for him, it won’t be an easy lesson, considering how those primary schoolers have no interest in listening to anyone, not even the teacher they came with.

Of course, you still believe that your students can accomplish such a lofty task. You just have no idea how since you hadn’t considered giving them lessons on how to talk to small children.

That’s why you’re very eager to see what happens next in this vision since you want to see what your students will do. Just how will they win these children’s hearts?

Unfortunately, you don’t get all the details you were hoping for since a time skip occurs in your vision, preventing you from seeing how Todoroki and Bakugou will react to the crazy situation Ganga Orca has put them in.

Your disappointment doesn’t last long, however, when, after the time skip, you see all the children happily playing with the four students in charge of winning them over. 

All you can do is smile when you see all the smiling primary schoolers playing on large ice slides that were obviously made by Todoroki. Those are some great smiles you put on their faces, Todoroki. Good job. I knew you could do it.

Your smile grows when you see Bakugou telling a kid that he won’t be able to recognize his own weaknesses if he’s always looking down on others. Well said, Bakugou. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come.

Around that time, your vision comes to an end, just as the elevator doors open. As you move to exit the elevator, an immense rush of pride washes over you, making you beam.

You’re amazing, Todoroki, Bakugou. You two really can do anything when you set your minds to it. Looks like you’re gonna soon be one step closer to becoming the heroes you’re both striving to become.

And you couldn’t be more proud.

[jay-cult]

Static and Stars: Episode 1 - Jay Day

Index

Jay and Nya haven’t been on a date in like... ever. So when they finally do go out on their own, some unexpected memories catch up with them.

AUTHOR’S NOTES:   Hey guys! At long last, S&S continues. I hope it hypes you up just like it does me! I was planning this for OC Day when I realized that it actually didn’t have any of my OCs in it (yet) so I’m happy to throw it out now.   This episode is quite guiltily Jaya-centered but PLEASE understand that it will be the only one. I laid out my plan for this fan season and I liked it, so I’m following through with having it kick off like this. This is a Jay fan season. Not a Jaya fan season. Thank you!

-

  A patronizing BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! rang out beside Jay.

  He groaned and sat up, hair messily flying all over his face. He slammed his hand onto where the sound was coming from, but found he slapped the smooth surface of his phone. He let out another grunt while the alarm was still judging him.

  He shot out a small current through his fingertips and the beeping stopped. Right… he forgot. They weren’t in the Bounty anymore.

  Jay climbed out of his sleeping bag and looked to his right, where Kai, who had just awoken, was trying to quickly rearrange his bed hair. Further past him, Cole was still sound asleep.

  Kai noticed that he was still as a rock and, mid-hair-fixation, kicked him hard.

  “Ow! Dad! Fine, I’ll get ready for dance practice-“ Cole jerked awake and then looked at Kai scorningly.

  “This sucks,” Kai groaned. He plunged his arms into his “hygiene” kit and pulled out a hairbrush, some cologne, and a bit of blush fell out.

  Jay stood up (while making sure his plushie stayed safely tucked in his sleeping bag) and smiled. “Aw come on guys, it’s not that bad!” He said, stretching.

  “Whatever you say,” Cole sighed, tying his hair up in a bun.

  In full pajamas, Jay exited the tent. Outside it was full sunlight, with shadows of leaves dappling the ground. He gazed at Ninjago City in the distance; it looked so much quieter from the outskirts.

  Zane was already outside making a meal for breakfast. He slept outside. Jay didn’t see the appeal, but he said that it was better for him to be out with the stars and one with the (mild) wilderness.

  “Good morning, Jay.” He smiled with ease. “You should really wash those gloves.”

  He took a look at his hands. “Funny coming from you, ya barely change your clothes,” he playfully argued, knowing already it was a useless excuse. Zane sat there in full gi wear and looked up.

  “I do not have the rather disgusting human body which pollutes cloth,” he responded simply.

  “Any updates on how the monastery is going?” Jay asked, changing the subject.

  “Indeed!” He flipped a pancake with a spatula. There was a whole contraption set up so that Zane could do his thing, even outside. “I have been notified that it is going smoothly.”

  Jay nodded. He sat on a cushioned log. “I’m still so glad it’s over.”

  “The First Realm was certainly a tiring event.”

  “Yeah, and Garmadon… that fight was insane, huh?” Jay scratched his head. He was grateful that even with this makeshift living situation, they could rest.

  “You don’t even know the half of it.”

  The two ninja looked up. Nya was strutting toward them, tying up her hair casually. Unlike Jay, she had already gotten dressed.

  “Nya!” Jay brightened up, even more energized from the sight of his girlfriend. The morning sun made her look quite phenomenal. She sat down by him, very close, physically. Zane’s (literal) inner timer dinged, and he stood up. “Breakfast is ready!”

  At that moment both Kai and Cole rushed out of the tent, still very unready. Kai’s hair was half-done, his arm through just one sleeve of his jacket, and he was still pulling up his pants. Cole had yet to do much. He was just running out with his pajama pants on, and… that was it.

  “What were you guys doing?” Jay asked.

  “Shut up,” Kai said immediately, his eyes suddenly very focused on the pancakes that were now out and ready.

  They all sat in their eating area on the cushioned logs in their circle beside Zane’s cooking tools and contraptions. It was a very average day, at least, for one where they had to camp together without a strong shelter and where they had nobody to fight anymore. But there were obviously some things missing.

  Nya turned to Jay. “Well,” she shrugged, “Lloyd and Wu are off on their things.”

  “As they have been for a while, making their own camp in Misako’s space,” Kai interjected, eyes narrowed. “Meanwhile we have to make it out here, in the wild, the cold-”

  She ignored him. “And we have nothing going on, finally. So.. well… we haven’t really done much recently. And you were off in the realm for…. A while.”

  Jay swallowed a chunk of bacon. “Right! How long exactly has it been since we’ve done something, just you and me, that didn’t involve snake venom or the fate of the world?”

  She looked at her paper plate of food, thinking. “Like. Never?”

  “Yeah.” He chewed more, a bit unbelieving. They’d only ever done fun things with at least one person from the team or when a villain was on their tail. Or if it was work or training.

  “We have never really had a normal date, like, at all, have we?” She looked straight at him, making her point.

  “Okay, today is perfect!” Jay finished the last of his meal happily.

  “Alright, you guys, calm down,” Kai stood up, smirking. “I know that must mean you’re all very new to this, so if you’d like to ask the master-”

  And then Cole just straight up picked Kai up. He just yoinked him from off the ground and slung him over his shoulder. He turned toward the pair, genuinely smiling. “Hahah, he’s one to talk. Come on buddy.” As he carried him back to the tent, Kai let out yells of protest, but it was nothing against Cole’s strong hold.

  Zane smiled. “You enjoyed your meal, I hope?”

  “Breakfast was great, Zane,” Nya commented, laughing.

  “I guess this means we’ll finally have a day all to ourselves,” Jay winked, standing up. “I’ll devote this day to being Nya Day.”

  She winked back. “And I, Jay Day.”

  “Let me just go put on my clothes first.”

 -

  The wind of the mountains blew fresh through the couple’s hair. Jay had dug through his bag to try and salvage what he could of the nicest clothes in there and had just barely scraped out a clean look. He’d stepped back outside, surprised to find Nya in a brand new, somewhat formal outfit.

    “Oh,” she had said, reddening a bit. “Maybe I should go get that other stuff back on.”

    “No! No,” he’d interjected immediately. “You look really nice.”

    Now they were climbing down the rocky side of a steep mountain that led down to Ninjago City from their camp. Or, well, they weren’t exactly- their hybrid elemental dragon guided them down slowly, walking so as to not be easily detected.

    “Where are we going?” Jay asked from his spot behind Nya, who had the reins.

    She glanced at her boyfriend quickly with a sly smile. “You’ll see.”

    Jay grinned and kept his silence for a little while. But inside his thoughts were racing quite a bit. He felt tense and nervous- and not because of the date. It was all so familiar. Too familiar. Sitting behind Nya, holding onto her... the feeling of the dragon’s spine beneath him and the thrum, thrum of what was the dragon walking but what his brain turned into the panicked beat of wings. His thoughts wandered through that old experience and he wanted it to stop. But he decided not to say anything.

    At the edge of the city they, to Jay’s relief, put away the use of their dragon and grabbed a ride from a surprisingly mellow fan who was happy to provide service to the “folks who’d saved the city’s ass more than once.” Nya whispered the destination into his ear and he chuckled. “Well y’all enjoy your time, n’.”

    “Shut your eyes, boltbrain,” Nya pleaded, trying to hold back a laugh.

    “I wanna see, though,” Jay whined with a smile, trying to swat her hands away. She was reaching from her spot in the passenger seat of the car.

    He (eventually) complied and they stepped out onto what felt like some concrete. Jay heard the car drive away.

    “Okay,” Nya giggled, sounding slightly embarrassed. “You can look.”

    Light flew into his eyes as he shot them open. He blinked a few times and observed the building in front of him. It was a fairly average-looking concrete building on the outside, but the windows were plastered with 80s-themed patterns, stickers, and paint. He gazed up at the sign that marked the building, which read in bright neon letters, “Ninjago Roller Rink.”

    He turned to his girlfriend with a shy smirk. “Nya, what is this?”

    “Okay, okay, so. It looks a bit run down. But I remember that you were into roller skating as a kid. So I just thought-“

    He pulled her into a tight hug, his excitement growing. “This is awesome! Let’s go!”

    He tried to rush to the door, but Nya got there first and held it open for him. “Ladies first,” she said.

    “Ha-ha,” he joked, unable to hide his grin. They stepped confidently into the building.

    The floor, cheap carpet with an 80s pattern, stretched out beneath them. There were party tables all around them, broken up by counters on the side of the right wall selling the snacks and roller blades. And on their left down a ramp, in all its glory, was the large wooden rink with a disco ball hanging above it. Popular 80s music played but it was barely heard among the conversations of the many people in the building.

    The couple got stares as they entered, but they were too excited to care too much. They rented their skates and set off towards the rink.

    They stepped out onto the floor and the rink suddenly cleared. Bunches of people crowded around the edges to watch two ninja in fancy clothes do normal people stuff.

    While Jay eased on Nya stepped on immediately, and almost fell to the floor but grabbed hold of the edge just in time. She looked surprised.

    “You’ve never done this before, huh?” Jay questioned, sympathetic.

    She shook her head, blushing. “I didn’t know it was that difficult.”

    “Well it’s not, once you learn. Here, let me show you.” He held out his hand.

    She grunted but took hold of it.

    A scene flashed in Jay’s brain. He was forced to remember. The rooftops of the tall, wide building of the city stretched before him, and he felt a feeling of dread, the intrusive thought that this was where it started. He dropped her hand suddenly.

    “Jay? Are you okay?” Nya asked, worried.

    He took her hand again quickly. “Yeah,” he lied. “Just a little nervous, I guess.”

    He took her along the walls of the rink, guiding her with his words. But all the while, he was wondering what had happened. It’s not like it was the first time they’d held hands, of course. So why get so heavily reminded of that now? He was fooling himself. He knew the answer. None of the other ninja were around. Just like… he shook his head. No, stop Jay, you’re literally on a date, he told himself.

    They were eventually off of the walls together, rolling slowly and steadily around the rink. Since it was empty, there was no need to go in the required circles, so they freely went where was best.

    “Alright,” he said gently. “I’m gonna let go now.”

    She looked at him, panicked. “Wait! Don’t!”

    Jay gave her a serious look. “I’m going to, okay? Are you ready?”

    She paused for a second and then nodded.

    “You sure?”

    She nodded again.

    “Go!”

    With a gasp from the crowds, they let go together and Nya rolled ahead. She picked up her pace as they cheered, feeling confident, and then promptly lost her balance and fell down in a tangle of girl, skates and kimono.

    “Nya!”

    She punched the ground. “This is never going to work!”

    Jay frowned. “Don’t say that, you’re doing real good! Look,” he brightened up a bit, “next time I’ll wait until you really want to do it yourself.”

    Reluctantly, she nodded, and took his outstretched hand again. As he pulled her up the music turned to a certain kind of song. An incredibly sappy, incredibly overly fitting song.

    “Oh.” As Jay scratched the back of his head, getting all red, the crowds murmured in wondrous anticipation. He looked around and saw the guy behind the counter put his phone down with a wink. “I guess this isn’t really what you expected,” he told her nervously.

    “It’s cool,” she shrugged, smiling. “Besides, I wanna show you off.”

    He chuckled. “I wanna show me off, too.”

    And then it became perfect.

    Nya picked up the skating incredibly quickly and was able to do very well by herself after just a few seconds. They rejoined at certain points and laughed. When he caught gazes from the crowd, Jay did some age-old skating tricks from way back, rousing several cheers. He always looked back at Nya wherever she was, who was always sporting a proud smile. It was foolish. It was childish. It was fantastic.

    But their finish wasn’t as strong at all.

    They met up towards the end of the song and started to feel something deep in the memories of their bones. Deep in their roller dance, they didn’t think and posed in a way they’d done before- in a fight. Like an instinct of feel-good thrill, they posed, and Jay suddenly gripped his head and fell to the floor.

    It was dark and they were on top of a shining tower. Maybe they might’ve been able to hear the sounds of the black ocean, just maybe, if not for the cries and shouts of leader-blinded, bloodthirsty pirates. They were back to back, their swords drawn, fighting off the swarms of their enemies that no longer even existed within their realm. Jay thought of the lighthouse and this time he couldn’t stop.

    “Jay!” Nya gasped, and the crowd let out shouts of concern. He was brought back to reality with their noise- somehow not hers. He was breathing heavily, still on the dirty wooden floor.

    “I can’t…” he was almost okay when the music switched to something that bored into his brain. He’d never heard it before but it was saying things that couldn’t be unheard.

    “We’re alone together, in a familiar place.”

    He couldn’t stand it.

    “Waves beat upon the rocks and moonbeams shine upon your face.”

    It was pop and terrible but it still existed, and as Jay continued to fall in and out of reality he felt himself being hoisted from the floor by someone strong. “Let’s get you some water… ‘SM, this music… c’mon, Jay…”

    Nya was leading him out of the rink and back onto the carpet, and in her hold he found himself back in the roller rink’s building- but not completely. She sat him down at one of the tables and left him staring at the ground for a moment. When she returned she put an opened bottle of chilled water right in front of him, and wearily, he took a few sips.

    A teenage girl from the crowds, who were now mostly filtering back onto the roller rink, shuffled up to them shyly. “Is the blue ninja okay?” She asked.

    “Yes,” Nya snapped, which quickly sent the girl scuttling away.

    “Better?” She asked, her voice edged with worry. Jay nodded. She sighed, smiling in relief. “That’s good.”

    “Oh, but I ruined it…” he groaned, staring at the top of the table.

    “Ruined what?” She asked, confused.

    “Our date…”

    Nya gave his hair a ruffle. “No ya didn’t. Let’s go talk about this over some lunch.”

-

    Twenty minutes later they were ordering their favorite dishes from Chen’s Noodle House. They sat along the edge of the kitchen and a familiar face decided to pop into their conversation.

    “I think I know what happened,” Nya answered after said familiar face asked.

    “Oh, what then?” Pushed Skylor, leaning in.

    “I just can’t get it out of my brain. Now that we decided to do something on our own, I guess,” Jay frowned, feeling absolutely terrible.

    “What?”

    “It’s difficult to explain,” Nya said quickly, before Skylor delved too deep into speculation.

    The redhead left for a brief moment to grab their food, and returned looking excited for a tale.

    Jay picked around at his noodles. “You’re not gonna believe me, but it’s a different timeline. That only Nya and I remember, I think. It involves a lot of evil pirates, and everyone being trapped in a sword, and Ninjago being in the sky. You were part of my ninja replacements,” Skylor gave him a weird look as he was mid sentence, “and Nya even…”

    He paused and dropped his chopsticks back in the tub. Nya stopped eating suddenly, and looked down, feeling sick.

    “Nya what?”

    “Nothing important,” Nya said, trying to force another bite of food into her mouth.

    “Well, hm,” said Skylor, looking a little put off, “sounds like you guys need to somehow sort this out.”

    “Yeah,” Jay stared at his food. “I know. You’re right. We have to stop pretending like it never happened. We have to think about it. Sort out all the lost… stuff from it.” He reached into a pocket to pull out his wallet, but Nya was there first, holding her card out to Skylor with a smile.

    She shook her head. “Today’s on me, ya crazy lovebirds. I just hope things are okay for you from now on.”

“Thanks,” said Jay with an exasperated sigh. “You’re a life-saver, Skylor.”

    “Well, where do we start, then?” Nya asked when Skylor left them, looking at Jay with some nervousness.

    He narrowed his eyes and gave one of his eyes a rub. “The lighthouse.”

[userdokja]

Pick up lines. | Ben Solo x Reader.

Request: Hi there! I'd like to request a resistance pilot! Ben Solo x either a princess or medic! Reader. Thank you so much if you decide to write this!

A/N: Helllooooo! this gave me so many Ideas so I’m two different fics for Princess and Medic reader! I just finished the medic one so I hope you enjoy!

Requested by: anon. 

You've been a medic for the resistance for a long time, you wanted to help out as much as you can but you weren't a fighter and you didn't know how to fly a ship, so you figured that the best you could do was help them by staying at the base and help them with their injuries when they come back, and fighters having injuries wasn't rare when you're with the resistance,

"Y/n, you're early again." Your co-worker, Jade said as soon as you walked in.

"I have to check up on this guy who got shot pretty bad, Is he awake yet?"

"No, his wound's doing alright, I checked on it earlier." She said, "Amanda isn't coming in today, she uh- she left."

"Left?" You exclaimed. "That leaves us with-"

"-three medics left, the war's getting worse." A sigh escaped your lips and you put your bag down, you walked to one of the injured patients checking their vitals before moving to another one.

The rest of your co- workers came in and helped you with the rest, you all did your work for the day.

"Hey there Theyan, how's your arm doing?" You knelt in front of the youngest patient in the room, the kid was 11 years old, someone found him in he middle of the fight and brought him here.

"It doesn't hurt as much." He mumbled, "Do you know when he's coming to visit again?"

"Who?" You asked,

"The one who saved me, the tall mister with the long hair?" Your eyebrows shot up when you realized who he was talking about.

"Ah, him. He's currently not in the base but I'll tell him to come visit you when I see him alright?" He nodded at you, you gave him a smile and ruffled his hair.

----

"They need us outside! The fighters are back!" You heard someone call out, you immediately grab your kit and rushed out half of your co- workers trailing behind you. When you see the ships landing you approach the closest one you see, he had a deep wound on his stomach and a bleeding scratch on his shoulder.

"Sir, can you stand up?" You asked him, he gave you a tired nod. You throw his arm over your shoulder and helped him up so you can treat him properly inside, his dark hair covered his face and he had trouble breathing, once you arrived to the med bay you helped him sit down on one of the beds. "I need you to take your shirt off so I can clean your wound."

He did what you told him, you could hear the rest of the patients coming in making the whole room busy. "Lie down." you instructed.

He groaned as he let his body drop on the bed, his hair was finally out of the way , so you could see his face properly.

"Ben Solo." You said, surprised. "I thought your mother forbid you from going into fights." You said as you cleaned the wound on his stomach.

"She did, but I can't just stay behind as we loose our men fighting." He said, his voice was deep making you shiver. "I didn't know they had pretty medics in here."

You ignored his comment and continued your work, you felt his eyes on you even if you had finished patching him up, "You should rest, I'm going to have to leave you for a moment."

When you finished helping out as much as you could, you tried to check on him again but you were met by an empty bed, you groaned knowing that you might get scolded for this.

The next day, everything seemed to calm down a bit, some of your patients were discharged so you weren't that busy for the day. But you didn't expect for a visitor to come.

"Hey." You heard a voice behind you,  you turned around to see Ben.

"Hey... does your wound hurt? I told you to get some rest." You said.

"No, I'm completely fine." He grinned. "Do you have a name-?"

"... everyone does-" he cut you off.

"Or can I call you mine?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?" You tried to walk away but he kept up with you. "Someone's waiting for you here, that kid you saved?"

"Oh, how's he doing?" he asked.

"Follow me, he really wants to see you." He didn't say anything else and just continued walking with you, when you arrived Theyan's smile quickly appeared.

"Hey there." Ben greeted him, Theyan stood up and hugged him, you heard Ben groan as Theyan hit his injured stomach.

"Be gentle, he's injured and your arm's still healing." You reminded him, he quickly pulled away and mumbled an apology.

"Are you doing alright here?" Ben guided sat down on Theyan's bed, the kid sat beside him.

"Yeah! Miss Y/n takes really good care of me." Theyan gave you a big smile.

"Miss Y/n?" Ben turned his head to you and gave you a smile, your cheeks burned and you looked away to hide it. They talked for a while, about ships and how thankful Theyan was for Ben saving him, Theyan was disappointed that Ben had to go but he promised him that he'll visit again.

He went back the next day, and the day after that. And in those days, despite the corny jokes and pick up lines he tells you, you became closer.

----

The very next day he came with flowers and a bag of food.

"What's this for?" You asked him, while looking into the bag.

"Trying for you to get out on a date with me?" He said.

"We've only known each other for like a week." You gave him a pointed look.

"That's what dates are for right?" You sighed knowing that he wasn't going to let this down.

"I have work."

"No you don't,we have the whole thing handled!" Jade butted in, you widened your eyes at her and she just winked at you.

Ben raised his eyebrows at you, waiting fro an answer.

"Fine, but just for a moment!"

Ben told you to bring the food, you didn't really know where he was going to take you since you were in hiding in a planet filled with trees and nothing else. But you were surpried when you reached his ship, the one he's been using for fights.

"Do you like it?" He asked, making you look away from it.

"Yeah." You breathed out, you were pretty sure you were on a cliff, and you could see the whole place from up here, and everything seemed so small. "It's beautiful."

You ate inside the ship because it was too hot outside.

"This was the ship my father taught me to fly, it looks like it's almost falling apart but.. I can't let go of it." He said, the reason why he couldn't was probably because he lost his father a few years ago, you could never forget the look on His mother's face when she got the news.

"You really love flying don't you?"

"I do." He smiled. "Do you know how to fly?"

"Oh, I don't even know a lot about ships." You shook your head "We stayed inside when I was a kid, since they were always around and we were scared so I barely got to look at the sky. Until I finally had the guts to join here. " You recalled.

"Maybe I can teach you one day." He offered. You agreed and took the first bite out of the food.

"This is great." You complimented, "Did you cook this?"

"I did." he confirmed. "Mother taught me how to since she was quite busy back then, she wanted me to learn how to take care of myself when she's not around."

"And you never learned." you teased, referring to him going to battles without his mother's permission, he laughed at what you said.

"I did learn how to cook though." When you finished your meal and chatting while you did so, you both watched as the sun disappeared into the horizon. You looked at Ben beside you and just noticed how handsome he was, his hair matched his eyes and how his lips gracefully moves as he talked, you snapped out of your thoughts when he spoke.

"We're not socks-"

"-please don-"

"-But i think we'd make a great pair." You laughed at his pick up line, you fell silent after that, you were thinking of a pickup line as well, something that Jade probably told you about before.

"Did hurt?" You asked him out of blue.

"What did?"

"When you fell from heaven?" You gave him a smile that must've been like a grimace because of you trying to hide how cringy what you said was. " forget that happened, that sucks."

"It does, but every pick up line's supposed to suck, if it doesn't then it's not a pick up line at all." He chuckled. "We should probably head back, it's already dark."

-----

You were both standing in front of the door of the med bay, you didn't want to go in yet since you were sure you're going to get teased a lot by Jade.

"Uhm.. thank you for today. I enjoyed it." You smiled up at him and stared into his eyes, you noticed how mesmerizing it was.

"No problem." There was silence between the two of you, and you just looked at each other, as if you were waiting for something to just magically happen. "Kiss me if I'm wrong-"

You stopped him from talking by locking your lips together, his arms snaked around your waist. When you pulled away for breath he laughed.

"I must be terribly wrong to earn a kiss like that."

----

Permanent Tags: @aintnouseofpretending @just4muggles @heartbeats-wildly @lookinsidemyhead  @katiegoddessofmischief

Star Wars Tags: @melcutie @jxhn-mxrphy

Kylo Ren/ Ben Solo Tags:  @dark-night-sky-99 @souriemickey

[shaydeoffical]

Bright as a Diamond. Shinso Hitoshi x Fem Reader: Chapter Ten

Chapter Summary: Shouta is away fro business, and Shinso and (Y/n) are left alone for the day. In a brilliant idea, (Y/n) convinces Shinso to train to be able to pin him down. Things turn stressful when she gets another cryptic text...and...is that a picture of Shinso on her phone? No way.

Series Summary: When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Author Note: Please enjoy this, also long update lol. We are getting to the good stuff we have been waiting for, in this slow burn.    

Warnings: fihgting, blood, kidnnaping, violence

Last Chapter: Nine

Next Chapter: Eleven 

The Connect

  “HELP!!!” Hizashi screamed, shaking the house down with his quirk. I jumped from the bed, landing on my knees. While crossing the hall, I paused. Instead of running straight into the disaster zone, Hizashi's room, I began pounding on the purple-haired pro hero’s door. While it was hard to hear over the seismic waves cracking the foundation, I knew he couldn't just be asleep. Wiggling the handle, Shinso still didn’t answer but instead emerged from the bathroom in a towel.

  “I think it’s a bug.” I had my ears covered, use to this morning routine. Shinso had been staying over more recently since he started a cover job at a daycare to move in on his target. Though I didn't expect to see him in nothing but a towel. What heathen doesn't have a bathrobe when they stay over as much as he does.

  “Hold tight.” He covered his own ears, grabbing a newspaper and marching into Hizashi’s room. The screaming stopped, and I sighed in relief. Lowering my hands, there was a ringing in my ear, but I could still hear Shinso trying to pry Hizashi off his body.

  Taking a step, I felt my chest move. My eyes widened, and I ran back to my room to sling a bra on. While I was there, I fixed my hair into a ponytail and put slippers on. Of course, I trusted Shinso, but I wasn't that comfy to walk around like that. It was foolish to worry about my looks, but my mother was always so pushy about being decent.

Finally cleaned up, I shuffled into the hall, and Hizashi was still holding Shinso in thanks.

  “You’re so brave,” Hizashi clung to the purple-haired man’s leg, in his full hero suit. Hair slicked to the sky and a mic on his throat. It was a rare treat to see him all decked out.

  “If you stopped deafening all the bugs in this house, maybe they’d run off so you wouldn’t get trapped.” I rested my hand on my hip and leaned down. Shinso laughed, tiring to cover it with a cough. “You teaching today, Hizashi?”

  “Yea, I’m running late, actually.” Hizashi looked at his watch, then popped up from the floor. “You two are in charge today. Remember, Shota is in Housu for work, so it’s up to you two not to get into any trouble.”

  “Of course. Did you pack a lunch?” I dashed to the kitchen, both men following after me. Glancing at the clock, he could spare a few minutes for a meal.

  “No, I’ll figure-“

  “Oh, I can whip something up fast.” I cheered, wanting to return the favor. He was an excellent cook and mother hen. “You cook for me so often, it’s the least I can do.”

  “I’ll be fine, (Y/n), I really got to go.” He moved to grab his voice amp tool kit, and I got to work tossing ingredients together.

  “No, I insist, a sandwich and a bag of chips never took too long. I’m al-“ I shoved mayo and siracha in a bowl with some corn.  

  “He doesn’t want your cooking Kitten,” Shinso mumbled, sipping from an Eraser coffee. cup    

  “That’s so mean,” I nearly stopped working, but I kept tossing things together, adding mayo and ketchup. "You won't deter me, Lint Ball. We don't have room for jealousy in this house."    

  “Honey, I got to-“ I shoved the paper bag in Hizashi’s hand, fixing the zipper on his suit.

  “If it sucks, give it to the strays.” I scratched the back of my neck and gave him a quick kiss on the check. “Have a good day at work.”

  “Thank you." Hizashi pecked a kiss on my forehead. He opened the door then pointed from his eyes to Shinso’s. "Shinso, watch her for me.” Hizashi darted to his car, not bothering to tie his boots up.

  I turned to Shinso, who was now in a Deku shirt and some cotton shorts. “What did you mean no one wants my food?” I raised my brow and got into one of the sparing positions we had practiced last week.

  “It’s not mean, it’s just the truth.” Shinso walked right past me into the kitchen. “What? You’re not going to fight me.” He raised his brow, that damned smirk setting me off.

  “I- I’m going to my room.” I stomped my feet, making a show of my distaste. While I wanted to throw him to the ground, it was way too early in the morning. It definitely has nothing to do with how close we got yesterday while training.  

  Once locked away, I opened my window, and sure enough, Hisoka was resting in the flower bed. Tapping my fingers against the spot where his breath has tickled me, I froze. I had accepted Shinso wasn’t a full-on ass, but moments like this were where I wanted to wring his neck. I knew I was a terrible cook, but I was getting better, I had been practicing while home alone. There's no need to tell me what I know to be true. Everyone want's to be the best cook for their partner and friends. With a little more time, I'd be a prized host like Hizashi.  

  “Damn Lint Ball,” I huffed, raking my fingers through Hisoka’s fur. He couldn’t meow like he used too but had made an almost full recovery. That was the one thing I told mom about when I called last night. She didn’t want to talk for long, but she loved hearing about Hisoka, and my training with Sho.

  Hisoka ran off after a few more pets, bounding into the trees. The little rascal. If you could ignore the bald spots on his body, you'd never know he was so close to death.

Closing my window, I curled back in bed, my tummy growling. Shinso would be done eating soon, and then I could make my own meal. If he wanted to be cruel, he could do it without my company.

  “(Y/n), I’m sorry.” Shinso rasped on my door. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

"Go away," I mumbled, closing my eyes.

"I could have said it better; I know." He added. I could hear him rest against the door, the lock buckling.

  “It shouldn’t have come out at all,” I countered, sitting up and hugging my lemongrass and lavender pillow. The scent had mostly faded, but I still slept better with it.

  “I apologize. What can I do to make it up to you?” I opened the door and caught him off guard.

  “You can train me to pin you,” I kept a straight face as he just nodded. His eyes scanned me up and down, lingering on the pillow still tucked under my arm.

  “That’s a deal, Kitten.” He shook my hand, then held the back of his neck. “I went ahead and made breakfast for us. Will you please, join me?”

  “Of course,” I beamed, shimming around him. That might have been the first time he apologized for a dick move. So it was time to reward good behavior. Plus, after yesterday, I wanted things to work out. I hadn't been able to let loose since before high school. Being silly and extra reminded what being young was supposed to be like. Not hiding away your quirk or worrying about what bystanders think. Just the pursuit of safe and healthy fun.  

  He had prepared fresh rice, a few pieces of salmon, and a fruit trey. Hell, the strawberries were cut into little hearts. “Did you make this to show off you’re better than me?” I accused him, sitting in the middle like I was used too.

  “I just wanted to do something nice. I’m not always trying to tease you.” He fetched us each a glass of water. While he did that, I dished out my plate, trying to act like I wasn't so impressed with the spread. He had cooked for us as a family before, but this was the first time we didn’t eat separately when it was just the two of us.

  “Thank you then,” I kept my superior nature, and took a small bite. The texture was perfect, and the flavor was well rounded. Of course, it was nothing like an iron chef, but he did have skill in the kitchen. “Yes, this is quite adequate.”  

  He choked on his bite and chugged his water. “Just adequate?”

  “It’s delicious Hitoshi, I’m just jerking your chain.” We both giggled, but I froze up.

Chains’. Rattling. Bruised wrists. Swollen ankles. Hitoshi- He was holding my hand across the table. Callused fingers smoothing over my skin, his grip tight. He was strong. Hitoshi was a hero. I was safe with him.

  “Sorry, I just-“ I swallowed the lump in my throat, gripping his hand tighter. "Yea, it's a great meal." Dipping my head, I focused on the music notes on the table cloth.

  “Don’t apologize.” When he removed his hand, I noticed I had made an amethyst. The purple stone had rolled from my palm, resting on the center of the table. He didn’t make a move to touch it, instead, acting as if he didn't see it.

  Horrified, I grasped the gem and squished it in my hand, running the dust to the trash can. “It’s like a laying a golden egg. You never know what to expect from the goose. That doesn’t make sense. Whatever, I just- I totally intended…on not making that.” I acknowledged it, breaking the silence.

  “Is that where all that dust in your room comes from?” Shinso went back to eating like nothing odd had transpired. However, his tone was softer, not quite pity, but enough that I could notice he was feeling out the tension.

  “Hitoshi, my room is not dusty,” I crossed my arms, plopping back down. There was no reason for staying upset, it was over now. The food was getting cold.

  “No. The jars of sand or dust,” he clarified, handing me another piece of fish.

  “Oh, I make a few gems every morning to stay on my game, then I crush them. It feels wrong to just toss them out all the time. No one was supposed to know about that, but I trust you, Lint Ball.” I took a large bite, “now tell me why you were in my room?”

  “No reason.” He calmed up, sipping his water.

  “Liar,” I slammed my water back and quickly finished my meal. “Didn't think I'd be so preceptive? Alright, I’ll let it go for now. But you have to tell me once I pin you down.”

  “Why do you want to pin me so badly?” The impish grin on his face was almost cute. He was about to have a world of hurt.

  “I wanna show you how humiliating it is to be pinned every other breath. I intend to use this knowledge to my full benefit. So prepare for ambushes.” I took my dish to the sink, putting away the leftovers.

  “If you tell me about an ambush, it’s no longer an ambush.” He grinned, finishing off his meal. “Alright, let’s get started.” He put his plates in the sink and knocked his hip into mine. Scouting over, he took over dished. "Go get changed."

  “I’m actually excited about this,” I scurried to my room. I pulled on some capris and an oversized pink tee. It was chilly outside, so I put a long sleeve shirt under it.

  Shinso changed into a black long sleeve shirt and some cargo pants. Somehow he managed to finish the dishes and still changed faster than me. He was waiting by the door, his shoes on already, and he had my shoes pulled out and ready.

Once outside, we squared up in the garden. Before that, I stopped to watch Hisoka bath in the sun, rolling in the grass and pawing at the leaves around him. Shinso took a pic on his phone and then sat it to the side so we could get started.

  “First things first, always be aware of how your body is lined up with mine.” He paused, examining my stance. “Spread your legs a little wider, and put your left leg forward.” He walked around me, resting his hand on my stomach. “Feel the tension in your stomach; you want to use that energy. When you come at me, grab my waist and wrap your legs behind my knees, using your body to take me down.”

  “Um okay,” I nodded, trying to think about how that would work. His hand was so warm on my stomach, the energy doubling there. I wondered about how, with one touch, I could feel more powerful. Shinso was back in position across from me. Bouncing on my heels, I waited for him to strike at me. When he didn't move, I grabbed his waist and just slammed him to the ground. Sitting on his chest, I hovered around his chest.

  “That’s not quite right, but we can work on it.” Shinso tapped my leg. “Bring this up onto my stomach, and bring your other leg out for balance.”

  “Won’t that hurt?” I asked, adjusting myself to barely apply pressure to him.    

  “You want to pin me, right?” he reminded me. “Now, grab both sides of my shirt while crossing your arms.” He was entirely under me now, and when I applied pressure on his shirt, it choked him.

  “Hitoshi, that’s scary.” I let him go and leaned back, trying to find a place to put my hands that wasn't his torso. “Despite popular belief, I don’t want to strangle you.”

  “You need to practice, now you’ve left yourself venerable.” He smirked, gripping my knee, pinning me with a quick flip.

  “Snap.” I gasped, his pelvis was right on mine, my knees in the air on either side of him, his arms around my throat applying zero pressure. "Toshi." I pouted, trying to squirm free.

  “Let's try again.” He grinned, giving me instructions on how to get out of my predicament.

When that done, we moved on. This time Shinso had me sit behind him, and get my legs under his, and put a seatbelt around his chest. It was so toned and tight. Of course, I had fought off every urge to ogle him this morning, but the mystery was killing me.

  “Try applying pressure to my throat.” I did for a few seconds till he made a small noise of discomfort. “Good. Here’s the counter.”

  He pulled my thumb, and I let loose. The leaves helped him slide away from me, then got behind me, locking his arms and legs around mine, balancing me while on his back.  

  “Holy crap,” I laughed, unable to fight against the hold. Then my calf contorted in pain. “Cramp cramp cramp cramp.” He let go, and I jumped up, walking it out. “Shit. Fuck fuck, fuck.” I cursed, limping around in a circle.

  “Hold still,” he stopped me, and bent down to my calf and started to rub the muscle.

  “That hurts,” I collapsed down, his motions stopping long enough for me to stretch out. Rubbing my temple, I twisted my ankle, trying to ease the charlie horse.

  “It’s going to feel better in a few minutes, Kitten.” Hitoshi purred, working his fingers deep into my tissue. “Are you drinking plenty of water.”

  “Probably not. Besides, the USJ was a rough work out.” I wheezed through the throbs of pain. “Hey, it's easing up a bit.”

  “You should listen to me more often.” He hummed, kneading his hands up my thigh, caressing the entire area. His rough fingers were magic tools, ebbing the pain away. My head lulled back, resting it under my arm. Even when the cramp released, I kept quiet. I loved being doted on, and this was so nice.

  I nearly swooned when he started to work on my other leg, but I didn’t say anything. It was healthy, two young people sitting in the leaves sharing a massage… yea, this was fine. Friends did this. Shinso probably knew my other leg was on the verge of cramping, and it was okay. He owed me a few acts of servitude or some shit. I just want the ball of energy in my stomach to relax. This was so nice and normal...

My phone buzzed by my water bottle, and I grasped it, turning on the screen. Thankfully we laned by our stuff, but it wasn't a good message. It was another cryptic picture, a knife resting in an apple, and the letter o. Then another image came, and I froze.

  It was a purple blob... Shinso’s hair. Another picture, it was my thigh, a hand resting on my knee. Next came a pic of me looking at my phone. “Hitoshi…” I handed him my phone, sitting up and scooting closer. I held onto his shirt, trying not to shiver. “What, what do we do?” I whispered, clutching his arm.

  “We go inside.” He stood, both us raising at the same time, his arm locked around my waist. He looked around, keeping me tight to him. We were out in the open and there was no safe side.“When I say run, do it.”

  “Where?” I asked, gripping even harder. My legs felt better, but I was still shaking.

  “Go to the bathroom and lock yourself in. Call Aizawa.” He kept glancing around, then he stopped, narrowing in on the trees by the pond “Now.”

  “Now?” We were just fifty feet from the door, but I couldn’t let go.

  “Yes.” Hitoshi nudged me forward. I froze, looking at him for guidance. "I'll be okay." He assured me. With a deep breath, I sprinted towards the door. All hell broke loose. A few masked people jumped out, and Hitoshi didn't have his scarf. He was in trouble. There were even people near the house.

  I made inside before the creeps could move to block the door. I locked the bolt before anyone could grasp it, and I could feel the handle jiggle. The plan was out the door, and I grabbed Hitoshi’s scarf, peeking outside the window.

  A man popped up and busted through the glass. Switching gears I went to the front door again. Busting it open, the man met me at the threshold, and I slammed hot coal into his face before he registered what happened. Stomping his foot, I broke free running to Shinso.

  “Hitoshi!” His eyes bugged out of his head, I tossed the scarf. He caught it, quickly gaining the upper hand. Relief washed over me, but it was too soon.

  “Got her!” The man I burned, wrapped his arms around me. I stomped his foot again and held coal to his crotch till he dropped.

  Stumbling forward, I ran towards the forest like in practice. “Kitten, wait-“ A basket wove around me and tightened like a Chinese finger trap. I rolled a few times and started to burn my way through fast as possible.

  A man in a black trench coat hovered over me. “Are you sure this is the right girl? She’s making coals.”

  “That’s her boss,” more goons had appeared, and Shinso was swamped with seven different opponents. “The boss said she’s had two quirks, and not to be fooled.”

  “Your Tusuki’s daughter, right child?” The man knew my father’s name, and I knew they meant business. I could hear Shinso struggling behind me, and I just closed my eyes.

  “Please leave him alone. I’ll go with you- “ I was kicked in the stomach. Spitting up, I lost my breath.

  “I said, are you his daughter?” The man wove a trap around my throat, and it got tighter and tighter as I fought it.

  “I-“ What was I supposed to say. I could deny it and be killed outright or be hurt worse. Shinso hadn’t used my name aloud. There was room to- the trap cut off my air, and I shrank in agony. Black spots tugging at my vision. “Yes.” The binding loosened, but it wasn’t enough to breath easy,

  “Wrap her up.” The 'boss' of this group walked away, two goons grabbing my cocoon. They referred to another boss, but this was my problem at the moment.

  “Stop it.” I kept burning the basket with my coals, but the wooden strips kept reforming and wrapping around my hands. “Hitoshi. Hitoshi run!” I begged. The neck wrap closed up, and I gagged on my own saliva. Hitoshi had all but one man down. Damn it. He was so close… he had a chance to run.

 “Daddy, I didn’t mean for them to take me.” I cried into his chest, both of us chained to the wall. They had taken him from the hospital the week before, and now they had me.

  “It’s okay, baby. What do they know?” He nuzzled my neck, his entire body bruised, deflated, and cut from producing so many gems. Even holding me was straining his body.

  “They know, most of it.” I cried. “They said’ they’d kill my friend.”

  “Sometimes, you have to give in to the captors…I wish I had taught you more, sweetie.” He cried small lapis tears.

  “Daddy, I was trained as a hero, and yet I didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know what to do. Should I have fought them?”  

  “No. We just need to survive long enough to go home.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ll get home.”    

  Daddy. He died in that cell, right next to me. Because he didn’t have the strength to survive…I need to keep fighting. I can’t make this easy. Even if I’m passing out, I can still bite. Chomping down on a goons wrist, he screamed, dropping me. The other man lost his grip, and once I was down, I started to roll.

  “Get her.” The boss yelled, but I keep going, with no end in sight. There were no breaks or control, just pure momentum. It was then I noticed the small ledge a few ahead. The binding was getting tight, but I could still shift, but I couldn't stop myself from being air born. If I survived the fall, I'd be lucky to keep my head from busting on a rock.

  “Kitten,” the velvet voice of a hero. A tight scarf wrapping around my ankles. The whirling bouncing motion stopped. Jerked back, I slide a small way forward again, finally still. While I got my bearings, Hitoshi had knocked out both goons. He kneeled beside me, pulling at the brace on my throat—his finger wedging between the tight wood and my skin—desperately clawing at the fibers.  

  “Not so fast. In less you want to watch her be decapitated, you’ll listen.” The boss had the weave move up and over my lips and nose. Then he had a wrap slither around Hitoshi.  

  “Alright, just tell me what you want with her?” Shinso relaxed, stepping back from me. Toshi's binds were still growing around him, but he’d be immobile. He gave me a reassuring nod, and I tried to hid how much I was smothering.

  “Nice try, you think-“ The boss dazed over.

  “Release your quirk.” Hitoshi spat, and the boss did as told. Hitoshi’s bind was first released, then the one of my throat and finally my body.

  “Thank God.” I gasped, undoing the scarf at my feet, rubbing my throat, taking deep breaths. Assessing myself, I kicked the wood away and rubbed my eyes. A twig snapped in the brush. Booking my ass next to Hitoshi, I got to my feet and hid behind him. I peered at the boss over his shoulder; he was glazed over and just standing still. His finger would twitch every now and then, but this was the power of Shinso's quirk.

  “Tell me who sent you.” Hitoshi examined my neck, running his fingers up and down my throat. Keeping his quirk activated and interrogating the man was easy as breathing to him. How he was able to think about my injuries and stay in control was so cool.

  “We were contracted. I don’t know their name.” The man answered.

  “Who all knows of this location?” Hitoshi pushed my disheveled hair out of my face and wiped the dirt from my forehead. My skin had swollen around where the band had been, so he was gentle when cleaning that area.

  “Only my group.” The man’s hand twitched with more force. I gripped Hitoshi’s shirt, and he nodded it was okay.

  “Why didn’t you tell your employer. What was your goal?” Hitoshi grabbed his scarf and began to tie the man. I missed his warmth, the soothing smell that so familiar and yet far away.  

  “I realized the target was the daughter of one of my past projects. Tsuki (L/N), he was able to make precious gemstones. The cilent said she could make diamonds. She was worth more than the money from the job.”

  “I see. How many men did you bring with you?” Hitoshi finished his knot and pushed his hair back.

  “Nine.”

  “Hitoshi.” I jumped in front of him, a smoke bomb bursting on my chest. I curled around it, trying to mask the fog and keep Hitoshi’s vision clear. The heat building under me was unbearable, but it wasn't hurting me. My body was used to hot coals, I just need to focus on something else till this bomb simmer down. Changing gears thought about how my toes were sore and coming to life after being upside down. The sweat pouring down my neck. How hard it was to breathe in the fruity mist.  

  “Show yourself,” Shinso commanded, standing over top of my body. Another smoke bomb was launched. I created a coal tossing it, displacing the bomb in the air, sending it back into the forest. “Nice aim, Kitten.”

  “Only the best,” I wheezed the burning under me finally over. “Nine o’clock.”

  “You mean three,” a man emerged, he was dressed much more… well covered less than his comrades. Smoke was emitting from his body. “So you can brainwash your opponent’s once they answer a question. And you can make pretty little diamonds, and now I see coals. Wow, what a perfect little swan, just waiting to be scooped up by a stern master.”

  “What’s your name?” Shinso asked but was met with radio silence. “You clearly know a bit about our power, care to share what yours is?” Shinso spread his legs, and I crawled from under him. There was a small burst of fog, but nothing too thick.

  “All you villains thinking I’m just a sitting duck.” I wiped the blood from my lip. “But we already took down your boss and your friends. What makes you so special.” I crouched on one knee, one hand to the earth. Focusing.

  “What makes you think he was the ring leader.” The nearly nude man’s butt jiggled as he saluted me. He went on and on about his history as a villain, and I pushed a string of ruby under the earth. There was no reason it would or wouldn’t work, but I had this numb feeling in my hand that said it just might.    

  “Are you going to on all day?” Hitoshi’s scarf was tied up at the moment, and he vulnerable. We both were.

  There. I found where his foot was, and I shot the gem up in a corkscrew, pushing it around and through his calf. “What the hell,” the man screamed, his hand tossing bombs at us. I stopped my gem trap halfway up. Yet I failed to deflect the smoke that fell over us.

  The air quality dropped. “Hitoshi?” I couldn’t see him. “Hitoshi.” I leaned down and breathed through my shirt. There was a shattering snap. Then a shadow looming through the fog. The man reared his foot back and kicked my stomach. Still, I could see his other leg was bleeding and noticeably stiff.

  An emerald rod shot from my wrist, and I caught it. I used the weighted log and smacked it across the man’s face. He stumbled back but pushed more smoke in the area. My vision clouded I was filtering the air with my shirt again, just trying to get my bearings.

  “Kitten?” Hitoshi was coughing in the distance. How'd he get so far away?

  “Here- shit,” I dodged a kick and rolled deeper into the fog.

  “Where are you kids?” Hizashi was home. "BABIES?" Hizashi knew not to use out names, but it was already too late for that.

  “Over here,” I hollered, attracting the villain to my position. This time he kicked my chest, his foot digging into my breast. A gurgled scream left me, and I was putty long enough for him to grab my collar.

  “Heavy bitch.” He groaned, buckling under my weight, trying to get me to my feet.

  “Ass less chaps went out of style years ago,” I murmured, pressing my palm to his butt check, shoving a gem through the muscle and into the earth. He dropped me, but I put my hands down and forced a ruby cork and a sapphire out the other, sewing it in and out of the man’s legs. He screeched at the top of his lungs, shoving more smoke down my throat. Pulling my hair and clawing at my eyes, but I avoided most of his hits.

  “ROCK ON!” Mic’s voice washed out the fog. I covered my ears and rolled away with the airflow. Once his quirk stopped, I got up and saw Hitoshi and Hizashi jogging my way.

  “I did it,” I said, pointing to my jewels holding the man down in pain. “I-“ black spots flooded my vision, and I waivered, stumbling over my feet. “I went plus ultra.” My headache was building; I had survived with a little help.

[slytherincuties]

I wish you were mine - Harry x Hermione

Ah, I love to be back! ❤

Here’s a little thing about Harmione, when they were on run and came back from Godric’s Hollow. It was great pleasure to write this! 🎉

If you’re gonna like it, I’m going to write another part really soon 💖💖💖

They are in the middle of nowhere.

Literally, nowhere. 

Forest of Dean was the first thing that crossed Hermione’s mind but living there, even if the matter was temporary, required resources and they hadn’t got any, if she was being completely frank with herself. Harry is in so catastrophic condition that she cannot put herself together properly. It was sheer luck that they’d escaped Voldemort, even though it seemed that they should die right there, in Godric’s Hollow.

Now he’s lying there, barely breathing, and she cannot stop panicking. She has no supplies at all – no food, no medications, she can’t even start the fire because it would be too dangerous, at least for now. One thing she could do was to melt the snow so Harry (and also Hermione) could have a drink. However, he didn’t drink too much before he passed out. Hermione was pleased that they both survived and extremely worried about Harry’s condition. He was breathing heavily, unconscious and hurt – his arm was burned in several places, his face dirty and scratched, just as was his hand.

Hermione sat on the folding bed and tried not to cry. She was so helpless and practically, on the verge of breakdown. They are in fucking shithole, without food, left completely alone, and right now powerless. She had no idea if Harry wasn’t badly injured, maybe he needs professional help and right now the only thing she can offer him is a cup of water. Hermione tried to get herself together. Maybe the situation isn’t exactly favourable for them but she is Hermione Granger and she won't let Harry get hurt any more, let alone die when she takes the guard.

She broke off her bed and for the next few minutes searched her purse for anything that could help her dress Harry's wounds. Finally, she found something like a first-aid kit and a few potions to help her with cleansing the wounds. She got down to work right away, not yet realizing that there was so much of it. She cleaned the wounds with the greatest care, sewed two of them, and then secured everything with dressings or bandages. She knew, however, that the deepest wounds were those not visible to the naked eye. She was afraid of what would happen when Harry woke up and found out that his wand was no longer suitable for anything.

***

Harry woke up the next afternoon. Hermione managed to light a fire and cook the soup from herbs she found in the bag. It may not have been the best meal, but it was certainly better than nothing at all. She was sitting outside by the fire when Harry came out of the tent. He wasn't going to scare her but she shivered anyway when she saw him – he had no idea if the reason was the cold or him.

“I’m glad you’re awake. How are you feeling?” she asked, and he could tell that she was horribly warried.

“I’m alright, ‘Mione. Thank you.”

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

She looked miserable and tired. Harry wondered, if she slept at all.

“You took care of me. I don’t remember much but I know you did your best. I’m not in the best condition, but thanks to you I could get up fairly easy.

She smiled a little, and that made him feel better too. There was something about her smile, so familiar and warm... If someone had ever asked him what home is to him, he could have said without hesitation that when Hermione smiles, he feels at home. However, her smile quickly disappeared and again he saw only the anxiety on her face.

“What are you so worried about?”

Hermione smiled sadly and pulled out his broken wand from under the blanket she was sitting on.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I tried to get us out of there and probably the spell has bounced off something and... I'm sorry, I don't know how to fix it.”

Harry just sighed and slowly sat down next to her. He looked at the wand, put it down and then smiled.

"You're amazing. If it wasn't for you, Voldemort would probably have gotten us a long time ago."

She blushed on his words, and he grabbed her hand.

"Come on, it's just... "

"And you made dinner out of nothing. I have no idea how I would have managed without you," he said, not letting her finish, which made her cheeks even more red.

“Oh, stop it, Harry. I was doing everything what I could to keep you alive.”

“And you did a great job. So thank you” he said, and after that, they’d gone silent for a few minutes.

At the time Harry was thinking about Ron, probably for the thousandth time since he left. He still hasn't found the answer to the question of whether it was Horcrux who changed Ron so much or whether it was his conscious decision. He missed his friend, but also cursed him in his thoughts. Hermione was in terrible shape when he left them. Harry couldn't understand how at such crucial moments Ron could only think of himself. Hermione was very important to Harry, he valued and respected her, and tried to understand it all, but every day he became more reluctant to Ron because of what he did to Hermione.  

"I can't understand..." he started out loud before he could stop.

"Hm?" she asked Hermione, looking straight at Harry.

Harry was silent for a few more moments.

"Forgive me for what I say, but..."

She raised her eyebrow curiously.

"Yes, Harry?"

"He doesn't deserve you," he admitted honestly, knowing she'd probably yell at him right away.

But she only looked at him sadly and squeezed his hand a little tighter.  

"I'm starting to think so too," she whispered, still with sadness in her voice.

Harry hugged her and they sat like this for a while. He wanted to comfort her, whatever he could do to make her feel better. But he didn't say the second part of his thought aloud. He didn't even know how to put it in words.

I wish I deserved you. I wish you were mine.

[willow-salix]

Isolation update.

Day 71 of Isolation on Tracy Island.

“Hey, Grandma, you OK?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen, finding her slumped at the table, her chin propped up on her hand, miserably swiping through pages on her tablet.

“Yes,” she sighed.

“That didn’t sound convincing,” I said gently, sitting down opposite her. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, not really. I’m just getting a little tired of all of this lockdown business.”

“I think we all are,” I sighed in agreement.

“I know I should be grateful that we have such a nice place to spend it, but I just want a chance to see more than these four walls, to go out somewhere with the family, maybe for dinner, you know? Somewhere nice where I don’t have to cook and can relax a bit.”

I didn't mention that it would be nice for all of us if she didn't feel the need to cook.

“I know, I just need to stop complaining and get on with it,” she huffed, clearly annoyed with herself as she got up to fetch another cup of coffee.

"Don't be silly, you're allowed to have a little moan now and then, it makes you human. The boys have been complaining non stop since this started. We're all restless and moody."

"There are people a lot worse off than us," she sniffed. "We aren't struggling, we live on a paradise island that many would kill to even spend a day on. We should count our blessings."

"Yeah, we should," I agreed softly, but my mind was whirling. There had to be something we could do to make her feel better, she did so much for us all and I didnt like to see her this way. It wasn't like I could conjure up a restaurant right here… or could I? Not a full restaurant, but maybe a nice meal for her, a chance to dress up and have a good night? That I could do. I pulled out my phone and sent a group text to everyone but Grandma, invoking the summoning that no one was allowed to ignore. “Council of war!”

***

We all assembled in the lounge, leaving Grandma to bang around in the kitchen in a foul mood.

“Guys, I have a plan,” I announced.

They all groaned.

“No! Be nice! Seriously, this is a good plan, it’s important. Grandma is having a bad day, she’s feeling a bit restless and down right now. She said that what she really wants is to be able to go out somewhere for a nice family meal.”

“She’s always loved going to nice places,” Jeff agreed.

“That’ll be a little hard right now unless she wants to sit in a street somewhere with a burger,” Scott said, scratching his chin vigorously. Yes, the beard beginnings were still there and apparently still annoying them.

“ I don’t think that's quite what she had in mind,” Virgil laughed.

“So, here’s my plan," I continued before they could go off on one of their tangents. "I think we should make her favourite dishes and then all dress up nicely, I’m talking suited and booted, eat in the dining room and be all fancy. But keep it a secret for her.”

They didn't look too convinced at first, but slowly they saw the merit of my brilliant idea.

“If we handle the cooking and the table, can you and Kayo distract Grandma for the afternoon?” Virgil asked.

“Sure, I’m sure we can think of something, but are you sure we can trust you all to cook?”

John rolled his eyes. “We are perfectly capable of cooking for ourselves, you know, we are grown men.”

Now it was my turn to not believe what I was hearing.

“Seriously, you can trust us,” Alan promised me.

“Really? Usually you all need wrangling just to get through the day. You honestly think you can do this without arguing?”

“It’s for Grandma,” Gordon shrugged. “We’ll do it for her.”

That was a statement I couldn't argue, they would do anything for her.

“OK. Kay, this is going to be tough on both of us, but we’re gonna have to be brave.”

“Why?” she asked, immediately suspicious.

“Because we’re going to let her dress us up.”

***

Leaving the boys with recipes and strict instructions to behave and follow the plan to the letter, we tracked down Grandma.

“Grandma, wanna join us? We’re having a girly pampering day,” I asked.

“Both of you?” she clearly didn't believe that Kayo had been involved with the planning of said day. Time for plan B.

“Kayo lost a bet to me, and I said that, in payment, she has to allow me to put makeup on her and make her wear a pretty dress.” There, that sounded more believable, the glare Kayo was throwing in my direction certainly went a long way towards making it look more convincing.

“To make it fairer I said I’d dress up to, want to help?”

“I get to dress you two up?”

Kayo and I glanced at each other, in my case for moral support and strength, in hers to shoot me another death glare that promised retribution.

“Sure, as long as you dress up too, we’ll make an afternoon of it and have fun.” I nudged Kayo.

“Yeah, great fun,” she agreed. “So, are you in?”

“Heck yeah I’m in. When do we start?”

I spotted Scott peeking around the door and making shooing gestures at me.

“How about now?”

“Now? But I’m not done cooking yet.”

“Don’t worry about that now, there’s stuff in the freezer, I’m sure we can throw something in later,” I soothed.

“Alright, that sounds like a solid plan, let's do it!”

***

“Kay, hold still!”

“You just poked me in the eye with a tiny spindly brush covered in black gunk and you’re telling me to hold still? What, so you can blind me a second time?”

“It’s mascara, you sarcastic moo, and it’s your own fault you got poked. If you kept still and only blinked when I told you to it wouldn't have happened.”

“You can’t tell me how to blink.”

I gave her a look that said I’d smack her the second her back was turned. She, as always, was unphased.

“I saw what you did to Scott, you’re not making me look like a clown are you?”

“Lies!” I hissed. “I did no such thing! He looked beautiful, his eyes were blended to perfection and his cheekbones could have cut glass. It was Gordon that looked like he’d been drinking while playing with paint and that was down to Virgil, not me.”

“You both look beautiful,” Grandma smiled. “This is what I missed out on having only boys to look after, doing girls hair.” She continued to manhandle Kayo’s hair, brushing out her perpetual pony tail and attempting to twist it up at the back of her head into some kind of chignon that honestly was looking more like a deflated balloon had mated with a dead squirrel. “Why won’t this thing stay put?”

“I’ll fix it in a minute,” I promised as I brushed a little bronzer over the apples of Kayo’s cheeks, giving her already gorgeous tawny skin a little more depth. She had the nicest skin to work on, seeming to be unhindered by even the slightest of pores or blemishes, just perfect, the cow. Here’s me, I look at sugar or fat and I put on six pounds and have a breakout.

We had started by letting her do her own makeup while following my instructions as I did mine but Kayo is not the most delicate of creatures and when I spotted her stabbing a brush into the eyeshadow pallet, swirling it around like she was casting a Wingardium Leviosa and proceeding to scrub the colour (a startling shade of neon green) over her eyelid I’d called time. I ordered her to wash it all off and had taken over.

She didn't actually need much makeup, a little sweep of a dusky rose and darker brown over her eyelids, mascara to make her already long eyelashes stand out, a subtle dusting of bronzer, some loose powder to set it all and some burgundy lipstick and she was done. I took a lot more work to look that good.

Grandma had taken my makeup kit and helped herself, going for the classic blue eyeshadow, bright pink cheeks and vibrant red lips that had last been popular in the 1980’s. It didn't flatter her in the slightest but she was having a great time telling us all about how she had pictures of her mother with that look and she had thought that she looked so beautiful that she hadn't been able to resist trying it out. I couldn't talk, my habitual mashup of goth punk rocker with a side of geek wasn't exactly in keeping with the rest of the world either.

We dug through our wardrobes and selected possible outfits that we thought would do and held a mini fashion parade, allowing Grandma to make the final choices for what we would wear. Kayo’s evening wear selections seemed to mostly be made up of jumpsuits and Grandma eventually settled on one in black that had a sari style drape going over one shoulder that was accented in gold. I immediately made Kayo sit back down so I could accent her eyes with a little gold glitter eyeshadow powder to match.

Grandma seemed to be incapable of purchasing anything that wasn't purple, not that I could talk, it was one of my favorite colours too. She had chosen a nice, if slightly boxy looking, dress that stopped below the knee, with a rounded neck and no sleeves. She borrowed a black lace wrap from me and called it good.

Her hair had been growing out too and was a little too long to stay in its trademark flicked up end curls, so she allowed me to whip out the curling wand and give her a few waves that bounced happily around her face.

I fixed Kayo’s hair disaster at the same time, twisting it up from the nape of her neck, pinning it in place and then curling the ends which I’d left loose.

“You both look amazing, now wasn’t this fun?”

Kayo mumbled something that didn't sound quite like a yes but wasn't entirely negative either.

“Just for fun, shall we keep this on for dinner and surprise the boys?” I asked innocently.

Grandma grinned. “Oh yes, that would be great. You girls have really cheered me up today. We might not be going out for a nice meal, but this has been a close second.”

“When all this is over we’ll have a night out in London, we’ll drag the boys along, it’ll be great,” I promised as we made our way down to the kitchen.

“I thought you said the boys were handling dinner tonight?” she accused, looking at the table, currently bare of its usually after dinner debris of dirty plates and charred cooking dishes.

“Maybe they haven't started yet?” Kayo suggested.

“You have so little faith in us,” Scott announced from the doorway where he, Jeff and John stood. They had actually scrubbed up well, each foregoing their usual casual wear for a nice shirt -Scott and Jeff's were both white while John had chosen a midnight blue one- ties and smart trousers (we live on an island, it’s far too hot for jackets unless they wanted to sweat all night). they had even made an effort to try to neaten up their unruly hair. Their chins were still a disaster, the scruffy buggers, but at least they tried, it seemed that even a posh dinner wasn't a good enough reason to give up on an active competition.

“What are you boys up to?” Grandma asked suspiciously.

“We came to escort our guest of honour,” Jeff answered, offering her his arm and leading the way to the dining room.

The other boys looked just as well turned out, even Brains with his tufty regrowth on his head had dressed for the occasion, although his suit was a complete eyesore, a powder blue monstrosity with a ruffled shirt that looked as up to date as Grandma’s makeup, but bless him he tried.

Gordon was still wearing a hawaian print top, but it was a full shirt, with a real collar, and was tucked in to his trousers, which actually reached his ankles so I’d call that a win.

Alan was wearing a shirt that was just a little too large for him, obviously borrowed from one of the others but his trousers fit well. He had a properly knotted tie and looked so much older than he usually did, so smartly turned out, although he still managed to look adorable.

Virgil had on a mint green silk shirt and black suit trousers combo that should have made him look like a cheesy Vegas magician but he somehow managed to pull it off.

They had made the dining room look amazing, laying out the fancy china and real wine glasses, even lighting candles and piped through some soft classical music (I’m pretty sure I know who was responsible for that). The table held covered dishes that actually smelt edible and they had even hunted out some cloth napkins instead of the usual paper towel we used on a daily basis.

“You boys did all this?” Grandma gasped, seeing everything for the first time.

“We thought you could do with a night off from taking care of us,” Jeff told her, helping her into her chair.

“This all looks so nice and you boys look so handsome, although you'd look better without the face fuzz.”

“Small victories, Grandma, we got them to dress nice, we can’t ask for miracles,” I smiled.

She nodded, her eyes looking a little moist in the candle light but none of us dared to comment on it.

“We all thought you deserved some special treatment for looking after us all so well,” Virgil told her as he poured her a glass of wine and we took our seats.

Dinner was actually quite nice, it appeared that the boys had managed to cook without killing each other and follow the recipes, maybe finally realising that following instructions isn't always a bad thing had stuck with them.

They had stuck to simple but delicious dishes, a simple soup to start, followed by a nice italian style carbonara, garlic bread and crisp green salad, and apple pie with ice cream for dessert. Yeah, it probably wasn't something we’d have in a posh restaurant, but it had been made with love and I knew that that would mean more to her than anything.

Grandma was treated like the queen she was all night, being served first, her glass kept topped up and not allowed to lift a finger.

We refused to let her help clean up, insisting that she retire outside with Jeff to enjoy the beautiful night. We joined them after we finished taking everything to the kitchen, loading the dishwashers and hand washing a few delicate items.

We finished the evening with some of Virgil’s fancy coffee while they all reminisced and told stories of other family dinners.

She made sure to hug each and every one of us extra tight as she said goodnight, leaving us to finish the coffee and put ourselves to bed.

It had been a lot of work, but the smile on her face and the joy in her laughter had made it all worth it. That's what you have to do in times like these, make a special effort to look after those that look after you so selflessly, to show you care and that you appreciate them. These unusual times are hard on everyone, but we all know that if we stick together and do our best to think of others before we think of ourselves (something the International Rescue boys do everyday of their lives) then we can get through anything.

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (10)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST.

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

MASTERLIST

Chapter Ten - The Lies We Tell

A steady beeping pierced the air, rousing you from your sleep. You grumbled and reached out to find your phone without having to open your eyes so you could shut it up and go back to sleep but something grabbed your hand. Or rather someone. Everything came flooding back and your eyes shot open.

You wrenched your hand from Tony’s grasp and started frantically patting your chest.

“Whoa, whoa you’re alright. Calm down.” Tony assured you, grabbing your hands and making you look at him.

“I, but… I was. What’s going on?” You spluttered, your voice hoarse and croaky.

There were monitors and IV drips attached to you and you resisted the urge to claw at them, if Tony let them be put on you then you must need them.

He let go of your hands and held out a cup with a straw to your lips and you blinked. Water. That was a wonderful idea. You gratefully sipped at it and it soothed your dry throat.  You looked at him properly then. His skin was sallow, his eyes dark and tired.

“You were hurt, you’re in the med bay.” He explained.

“Then why do you look like the one who should be in this bed?”

“Well don’t tell anyone but I might have been slightly worried about you.” He joked.

You let out a huff of laughter.

“What happened?” You asked.

“What do you remember?”

“The mission. South Mexico. That’s the last thing I remember.” You said.

“That was three days ago. You got pretty banged up. you’ve been here since.” He explained.

“I… jumped off a cliff. I went full Vernichtung.”

“You did. There were Hydra agents scattered in the jungle, you stopped them from escaping. There was an earth controlling mutant on their side and she caused an earthquake that made the cliff collapse. You were hit by the rubble, just as you were coming back to yourself. It knocked you unconscious.”

“Ouch.” You muttered

“You should be fine now. You can’t suddenly speak French or anything though right?”

“J'ai appris à parler plusieurs langues quand j'étais enfant. Tant mieux pour conquérir le monde avec.” You snarked.

“Right you already spoke French. I knew that, I was testing you.” He covered.

“Bucky? Oh God Bucky was on the other cliff.” You remembered, sitting up in a panic and trying to get out of the bed.

Tony pushed you back down firmly but with care.

“Barnes is fine, not a scratch on him.” He muttered, irritation dripping from his tone.

You breathed a sigh of relief and looked him over again, noting how his eyes were rimmed red and he looked a little gaunt.

“You look like crap, I’m fine. You should get some rest.” You told him.

“So should you. Unconscious isn’t the same as sleeping.”

He was right, you did feel quite tired and as soon as you realized that a yawn broke free from your mouth and he chuckled.

“Get some sleep Kit Kat, you’ll need your energy for all your worried visitors in the morning.

You hummed gently in response and burrowed yourself deeper under the blanket, your eyes already closed. You felt a soft pressure on your forehead before Tony’s footsteps receded towards the door.

“Was it just my head?” You mumbled and he paused.

“What?” He said worriedly.

“I didn’t hurt my chest did I?” You asked sleepily.

“Why, does it hurt?”

“Hmm, no. Just feels like it should. Dunno why.” You muttered into the pillow and if he responded you didn’t hear it, you were already fast asleep.  

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

The Avengers, minus Steve and Bucky were all congregating in on the couches in the common area, a film on the flat screen that none of them were paying attention too when Tony walked in tiredly. All heads snapped up to look at him as he made his way over to the bar, pouring himself a glass of scotch and draining it in one gulp.

“She’s fine. Doesn’t remember a thing after being on the cliff with Barnes.” He told them.

“Are you sure?” Wanda pressed.

“If she remembered what happened we’d know about it.” Tony pointed out unhappily.

“Are we sure this is the best thing to do?” Sam asked, yet again.

“If I may Interject? Whether or not we think this is the best thing to do is irrelevant, it has already been done. Turning back now would only cause more problems.” Vision said.

“He is right, what is done is done.” Wanda agreed.

“We have much more pressing concerns right now. Hydra have made an alliance with Docherty, which considering his agenda is worrying.” Natasha reminded everybody.

“I’ll add it to the list of secrets I’m keeping from my best friend.” Sam snapped.

“If you want to be the one to tell her that she slaughtered nearly 200 Nazi’s because they made a deal with her tormentor to try and capture her then be my guest.” Natasha offered coolly, unphased.

“Nobody tells her a damn thing.” Tony snapped and they all looked at him.

“As far as she will ever know, she’s been unconscious for the last three days, Cap and his buddy are on a mission for Fury and she won’t hear the name Docherty again until I can deliver her his head in a basket.” He continued.

“Man that’s dark.” Clint remarked and Tony slammed the glass down and stormed out.

“Well I guess we have our orders. We lie to her and secretly hunt down the insane scientist without her knowing it.” Sam said bitterly and stormed out after Tony.

“”Anyone else have anything they’d like to storm away over or can we watch the movie now?” Clint asked.

Natasha cuffed him over the back off the head but nobody said anything and they went back to not watching the film.

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

The next time you woke it was to the sound of footsteps approaching you in the medbay. You opened your eyes and blearily blinked up at the small unassuming man checking your vitals.

“Bruce?” You asked.

“Good morning, Miss Stark.” He smiled at you.

You sat up and grinned at him.

“You’re back!” You exclaimed, pointing out the obvious.

“I’m sorry I missed your party but I was very happy for you when Tony told me.” Bruce said.

“It’s alright Bruce, your work is really important. I know that.” You assured him.

“About that, I would like to talk to you later, when you’re feeling up to it.”

You frowned at him, what could Bruce want to talk to you about concerning his work? You weren’t a scientist, you didn’t understand most of what he said. You didn’t see what you could contribute.

“Ah, you want to run some tests don’t you? What do you need doc? Blood? Spinal fluid? Pound of flesh?” You joked.

He smiled fondly and shook his head.

“Nothing like that, the samples I took from you last time were more than sufficient. They were actually quite enlightening. I just want to talk about what I discovered.” He assured you.

“It’s nothing to worry about, I promise.” He added upon seeing your nervous expression.

You were going to press him for more information rather than wait until later but a familiar tread of footsteps was hurrying towards you.

“We can talk about it later, after Sam fusses over me.” You told the good doctor just as Sam came trotting through the door.

Sam wasted no time is clucking at you like a mother hen.

“If it’s not Rogers it’s you. Can we go one mission without someone ending up in here?” He demanded.

“A fucking cliff fell on me Sam, how is that my fault?”

“Don’t try and play innocent with me missy, do you have any idea how worried I was about you? I’ve been going out of my mind for days.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to avoid rubble hurtling at me from the sky in future. I promise.” You apologised with your best puppy dog eyes.

He visibly softened and leant down to hug you.

“You scared the hell out of me kiddo.” He whispered in your ear earnestly.

You felt incredibly guilty then and hugged him back as best as you could in the awkward position.

“I’m really sorry Sammy, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sorry to interrupt this touching reunion but I actually woke you up to tell you you’re completely healed. You can leave if you like.” Banner said, looking uncomfortable but it was betrayed by the amusement and fondness in his eyes.

“Oh thank god, I’m starving.” You admitted.

Previous trips had taught you that while the medbay food came from the same place as the rest of the food in the compound it somehow tasted much worse.

“I’d normally recommend having something light to start but your enhanced metabolism can probably handle a real meal. In fact I insist you get some protein. Doctors orders.” Banner told you before he left.

“Did you hear him say you have to make me breakfast, cause that’s what I heard?” You asked Sam.

“Yeah yeah, that’s what he said.” Sam said with an eyeroll.

“Come on sleeping beauty, you shower, I’ll cook.” He said, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Sam I can walk!” You protested.

And kept protesting until he dumped you on the floor outside your room and jogged away.

“I hate you.” You grumbled.

“No you don’t.”

No, you really didn’t you thought with a fond grin.

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

The concussion hadn’t left any adverse effects, the pounding in your head was from Thor’s booming voice. As soon as he had spotted you in the kitchen he had roared with joy and picked you up, crushing you against his much larger body and yelled about his joy at your recovery.

You massaged your temples and scowled. Stupid big blonde teddy bear. You had eventually extracted yourself from his grasp and escaped the kitchen and your chattering team mates. You loved them, you really did but they were acting like you had never had a concussion before. Yes you were unconscious for three days but that wasn’t a huge deal. They were acting like you had nearly died, what with all the shouting and hugging.

You padded through the halls towards Tony’s lab, planning on hiding under his desk again. You saw him and Bruce through the glass and remembered Bruce saying he wanted to talk with you and your curiosity rekindled, pushing back your mild headache. The doors opened automatically for you, courtesy of Friday and you strolled in.

Bruce looked up and waved at you as Dum-E whizzed over, spinning around in circles excitedly.

“Hey little guy, guess you missed me as well.” You chuckled, leaning down to pat him on the head.

Dum-E patted your knee in return and scooted away, returning a second later with a chair he was pushing along the floor towards you.

“Hey, what did you want to talk about?” You asked Bruce, throwing yourself onto the empty chair and rolling it over to Tony’s desk who ruffled your hair in greeting and went back to his tinkering.

Bruce looked at Tony who nodded. Bruce picked up a bunch of papers and came over and stood in front of the desk.

“The files on you we extracted from project Vernichtung weren’t complete, do you remember?”

You nodded.

“Your father and I have been curious as to what Docherty had taken the time to remove from them before he made his escape that day. We think we might know now. I’ve been doing extensive research on your genetic make up, trying to understand it. Would you like to know what I have found out?” He asked.

Bruce had asked you a while ago if he might study you. While you weren’t entirely comfortable with the idea you had acknowledged that Bruce wasn’t like any other doctor you had been subjected to. Tony trusted him and you trusted Tony implicitly so you had agreed.

He had promised to be honest with you regarding whatever he might discover and assured you that you could say no or change your mind at any point. Knowing he was the hulk had gone a long way in getting you to trust him, he was the only person who could possibly understand how you felt about Vernichtung and was your best shot at finding out if there was a way to remove it.

“I want to know. But keep it simple, I don’t understand any of the big words.” You joked.

“Your files said that you were created from a unique blend of several individuals DNA strands, all spliced together and implanted in a fertilized egg. Your embryo was then grown in an incubator and subjected to gamma radiation and injections of a knock off super soldier serum. Scientifically a lot of what was in those records was dubious at best, especially since there was nothing to back it up. No evidence or explanation.” Bruce said.

You knew all this already, you were well aware you were grown in a lab.

“You weren’t the first attempt. You were the first and only fetus to survive.” He told you.

That wasn’t surprising but it was still made you feel ill.

“Why me? What made me so special?” You whispered shakily.

Bruce looked apologetic.

“Because of the serum. It was passed down genetically to you, not injected directly. Your fetus wasn’t subjected to Gamma radiation directly either, your host was.”

“My host?”

“I’m sorry. Docherty lied to you, you weren’t artificially grown in the laboratory like his other attempts. You were born, like any other child. We, myself and a trusted associate of mine found two sets of genes in your autosomal chromosomes. Maternal and Paternal.”

He pulled off his glasses and wiped them nervously, looking to Tony. Tony took a deep breath and turned to look you in the eye.

“You have a mother and a father. You have biological parents.” Tony told you.

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

The lot thickens! And I swear, I’m not doing some weird,gross plot twist where Bucky or Steve is her dad. 

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty @memanda17 @krystallynx@theonelittleone @piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot @captainamericasbeard @buckybearbabe98@nerdandproud-86  @clarkesardothien @harrison-shot-first@chook007 @thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat@inquisitor-selvala selvala

@the-corruptor @iover  @buckitybarnes @kendrawr-kitkat  @Pheonix-Whiskey-Tears @the–real-wombat @fairislesheets@angiept

@pizzarollpatrol @payformycollegepls  

[crypterion-moon]

Exchange: Resolution

“You can run but not forever.”

Part 3

It’s easy, at first, all Tim needs to do is be gone the moment Jason is near. Vanish he can do, but he doesn’t realize that it’s getting harder and harder as Jason gets more persistent. And Jason has come to realize it’s about time he stopped hedging around the issue.

Dick notices the deliberate behavior. Whenever Jason is close even on patrol, if he can get away with it, he'll be gone before even Batman notices, it hasn’t escaped B’s attention though but he isn’t about to confront either on the matter. He’s almost sure that it would end in disaster if he tried, Dick is too restless to keep out though, he has to hold Nightwing back every time he tries to chase either of them down for an explanation.

Tim doesn’t want to start a fight, fighting with people he’s supposed to be love, people who are supposed to be his allies, friends or family, drains him faster than a consecutive two week of work and patrol non-stop. He can’t look Jason in the eye and now, he realizes he can’t talk to Dick. At least Bruce and Alfred doesn’t force it out of him. He still can’t go back to the manor, the demon brat is there.

He collapses onto his couch, breathing a sigh of exhaustion as he pulls the cowl back. Scratch that, running away all the time is just as tiring, a lose-lose situation. The only thing left is if he...Tim’s eyes trail over to his comm unit, the batarang sits beside it under the spotlight of his kitchen counter. Bruce would understand if he just asked, maybe.

He pulls the cape and cowl off and hold it there, just staring at it from an arms length for a while. Then shakes his head and neatly folds it away. It would be stupid to throw away the thing that gave his life meaning over a simple disagreement, he’s held through worse to keep fighting. He carefully stows it away in his secret compartment.

“Pathetic Drake, you really are hopeless.”

Without even having to turn around, Tim was already groaning in his mind. Of all the people who could pay him a visit, it had to be HIM. If this was what it meant to have visitors then he’ll gladly stick to having none.

“Please, Damian,” he didn’t want to sound whiny but he is this close to crying from lack of sleep, emotional instability and generally just being fed-up, “I’m not in the mood for this.”

“That’s no excuse for being a coward,” Damian spits words like bits of red hot coal.

“Go home Damian, you got your Manor, I got my place, okay? Just...leave me alone.” Tim tries to get out of his suit while making his way over to the bedroom with full intention of slamming the door in the brat’s face and hiding under the covers. He just about makes it to the door when a batarang embeds itself in the wall next to him.

He stares at it for a few seconds before he groans, “Oh my god, I just had that done!”

“So what, you may have bought yourself a shack away from Father but you’re still in my city.”

Tim just leans back against the door, the exhaustion really hitting him hard, “If you’re about to tell me that this is your city and I don’t belong here, cool, I can-” he wants to leave, maybe then he’ll be free of all this crap. Maybe he can get a life. Maybe he won’t have to run around anymore and just be a normal person. But Damian cuts him off before he can finish.

“You’re in my City and that means everyone’s concern for you is doing us no good, get yourself together Drake and stop moping. Todd can’t chase you around forever.”

Tim struggles to get a proper response out, “Wha-I’m not, he’s not.”

“He is and it is getting to be an awfully sorry sight, deal with this for all our sakes or I’ll beat it into both of you.”

Tim would like to chalk it down to either Dick or Bruce or, god it sounds wrong, Damian leaving groceries and cooked food for when he got home. It’s not the first time they busted in on his home, without tripping the systems, but when asked, all he got were “Not me,” or “Don’t be ridiculous,” along with knowing grins or glares. It’s nice though, he hasn’t had a proper meal for so long since he left the manor. He’s convinces they were lying and actually leaving Alfred’s care packages in his apartment, but even Alfred says that he hasn’t needed to since Tim’s mystery carer.

He doesn’t have the energy to go into it so he accepts it gratefully.

Tim is in the middle of sleeping off the exhaustion when he hears a sound from outside his bedroom. His custom built alarm system bypassed, somehow. This sends all sorts of warning bells ringing in his mind and he’s reaching for the staff tucked by his bed. He steps over to the door carefully, opening it as quietly as possible. To Tim’s surprise, he sees Jason wrestling with his jacket and armor, cursing lightly as he does, it’s spattered with blood but there’s an especially large patch on his left side, dark red against the grey.

“Jason?”

The man looks up in surprise, “Oh, uh, hey.”

He winces, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak into your place, but my safe house is a little far at the moment.”

Tim sets his bo staff aside, and walks over in large strides, Jason flinches as he gets close but doesn’t move otherwise. Tim searches around for the catches in the armor.

“Let me, help you out of this.”

After some pulling and tugging, the whole thing is off and Jason’s torso is left bare, with scars criss-crossing and bullet holes as well as the tell tale cuts from his autopsy. Then, there’s the wound, not too deep but the skin’s torn from a bullet.

“Thugs?”

“Thugs,” Jason confirms and Tim stands up.

“Wait here,” he says and makes his way over to the kitchen. He reaches down into one of the cabinets for the aid kit and returns to Jason, already rooting around in it. He kneels down and orders Jason to stay still as he dabs antiseptic on the wound. Jason winces but does what he’s told.

“Sorry, it’s strong but effective, I got some painkillers if you need some.”

“I’m no wimp, this is nothing,” Jason tries to joke but it comes out slightly louder than he’d intended. Tim flinches at the rise in volume.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“S’okay, here, keep your hand on the gauze,” Tim says as he finishes washing the wound, he presses the material to the wound and Jason takes over while he roots around for the roll of bandages, “Keep it tight.”

“’Kay.”

Tim tucks his hair behind one ear as he unravels the roll. Jason’s eyes sets on the young man’s cheek, butterflies in his stomach as he quashes the urge to give Tim a quick peck there. Just, something about it was so damn attractive. Tim pulls up closer and begins to wind the bandage around Jason’s torso. He’s careful, but makes sure it’s done right. Tim is so close and Jason’s raised arms could close around him and it might not be too noticeable while he’s so focused on the task. He only goes so far as to let one arm hover above Tim’s shoulders while he’s working. He’s so damn nervous.

“There, all done.” Done it was, Jason could go back out there and it wouldn’t shift a millimeter with Tim’s handiwork.

“Thanks, I, uh, owe you one.”

Tim turns to put the kit back, “You’re welcome...to stay for the night. You need to let that rest.”

“Yeah, I’ll..do that.” The tension has never been so unbearable. He would’ve rated the night they first met as a pretty tense moment, what with all the fighting and hatred going around, but compared to now, that was nothing. He watches as the former Robin walks back to his kitchen, barefoot he notices. He doesn’t want to admit it but he looks pretty damn adorable. He starting to wonder how he ended up hating Tim in the first place. The boy walks back into his room without closing the door and a few minutes later, comes back out with an armful of blankets and cushions.

“There’s some extra blankets and pillows I thought you might want, I know it’s not cold but...uh, better safe than sorry,” the statement turns into a question with an upturned lilt in his voice. He’s trying his very best not to seem patronizing. Jason feels that pang of guilt again. “I don’t need your pity.”

Those were his words, words that he shouldn’t have thrown around, words that Tim didn’t deserve, after all the trouble he had to go through himself. He wants to take it back, maybe he can fix this.

“I...appreciate it, really,” Tim looks surprised, “I also wanted to say, I’m sorry, I was a real jerk.”

Tim looks away, biting his lip, “I can’t imagine what it was like, having to survive, and die like that. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be so angry.”

“You don’t want to,” Jason says, he shouldn’t. In the end, no one should have to go through what he did, wasn’t that the whole point of Bruce’s insane crusade.

“I do, there are people out there who aren’t so fortunate, who needs someone who can understand what it’s like, if I don’t then how can I help them?”

“Here’s the deal, Dick made his name as Robin because he needed it, I accepted it because it was as far as I got to having something better to do, the thrill was all it was to me. You asked for it.”

Tim sits back on his heels, watching as Jason pulls himself upright from the couch.

“You asked for it because you WANTED to help, you worked for it. You know what pissed me off when I first heard about you? I thought ‘Great, another dumb kid who thinks it’ll be fun to die on the street for his stupid mission.’ I tracked you down thinking I was going to see another clone of me, pretending to be Robin like it was some game. Then I saw YOU.”

Tim swallows. This must be bringing back all sorts of bad memories, memories Jason would rather deny but he needed to come to terms with it as much as Tim does.

“You weren’t laughing, you weren’t swinging around to show off, you took everything and worked out the quickest and best way to solve cases. I saw you and I knew, this was no game to you. But that also pissed me off because I realized, deep down, you were a better Robin than I ever could be. I hated you because you were better. That you put your LIFE on the line not because of the thrill but because someone out there needs you to save them.”

“When I came back, I read about you, your file. I thought yeah, another dressed up rich kid from one of those Gotham’s elites, but then I learned that they say nothing about you.” Jason slips off the couch to Tim’s level, “Your mom, your dad, all your friends, you lost them all didn’t you trying to fight crime. For the longest time, you didn’t want to let anybody else in your life because you didn’t know if just they’d die just knowing Tim Drake. Then Robin was taken from you, you didn’t outgrow it like Dick did, or lose the name by dying like I did. It was all you had wasn’t it?”

Jason is almost knee to knee with Tim, who looks like he’s ready run. The emotions he’s tried so hard to put aside, the memories he’s tried to forget were surging back with Jason’s words. His fight or flight responses were kicking in. He tries not to. Jason places a gentle but careful hand on his shoulder. He flinches but he doesn’t run.

“You thought it was your fault. Didn’t you. They said you were crazy and you almost believed it. Now you run yourself ragged just so you could prove yourself. Just to prove you’re not useless you’re burning yourself out, or was Alfred wrong?”

“I-it’s not-” Tim tries to say but Jason cuts him off.

“It is, don’t lie to me now,” he says gently. Tim buries his gaze into the floor, trying not to cry. He doesn’t like letting other people see him like this but Jason rests a hand on his cheek and pulls him back to look him in the eye. The tears fall anyway.

“I was wrong, I should’ve stuck out for you like you did for me. What role model treats his fan like that?”

“How did-?”

“Alfred and I still talk you know?”

Tim let’s out a quiet ‘oh’ he closes his eyes and focusing on his breathing. He’s still chewing on his lip like no tomorrow.

“Stop.” Jason says. Tim looks at him in confusion.

“Huh?”

“Biting your lip like that, if you...I can’t” suddenly, his mind goes blank and he can’t find the words to tell Tim why he shouldn’t bite his lip that way or blush like that because he’s still doing it.

“Ah, fuck it,” Jason growls as he lunges, making the worst decision he’d ever made in his second life and capturing Tim’s red bitten lips. Tim makes a muffled sound as he tries to say something, his hands flail a bit before settling on Jason’s strong arms, trembling. Jason in turn pulls him closer, wrapping them around Tim’s waist without breaking the kiss.

Tim’s wide eyes begin to relax and close as he gives in.

When Jason finally pulls away, he mutters and doesn’t look Tim in the eyes again.

“J-Jason?”

“Go on, laugh, tell me it’s not how you feel, but I’m not going to deny it,” Jason growls, “I’m going crazy, I can’t look at you anymore without thinking how much I wanna hold you and make you smile again, you and your dumb, cute smile.” The one that only comes out when Bruce actually fails to make a joke, or when Alfred bakes his special cookies. The sigh when he’s finally warm and holding a cup of coffee on his mornings in, alone on the couch, swaddled in a ridiculous blanket fort by himself and looking smug. Jason watching and wishing he could join him, so Tim won’t be lonely.

Tim’s heart skips a beat, when he hears the passion in those words. Jason’s always been passionate, in his rage, in his vengeance and his loyalty and and friendship. But never in his wildest dreams, did he think his idol would be here now, confessing to him. Holding him for dear life and laying out his heart. It made his own ache.

“Could you ever forgive me?” Jason’s voice break as he struggles with the regret, “For being the biggest asshole, for treating you like dirt.”

Tim sits up on his knees.

“Jason,” smaller hands on either side of Jason’s face gently lift his gaze up, Tim’s eyes softly gazing back, “I forgave you ages ago, I won’t ask what happened or what went on in your mind then, but I will never hold it against you. All that matters...is that you’re here now.”

Tim holds the other man as his head falls against his chest, letting Jason listen to his heartbeat, “I’m not going to laugh or deny my your feelings or my own either.” 

Jason pulls Tim even closer against him in an almost crushing embrace, afraid that if he let go, this dream will end. He never could have imagined that this was where they’d end up, holding each other, confessing to one another. A far cry from the first time they met. He remembered how he’d ripped the R symbol out in anger, but now he would happily let Tim take his heart. That asshole version of himself can go to hell.

“I’ve got a lot of groceries now, thanks to you, if you’d like to stay, I can make us breakfast tomorrow.”

Jason looked up at Tim with amusement, “What makes you think it was me.”

“You’re the only other person that can get past my security system so easily, what I hadn’t figured out yet was how exactly.”

“I, uh..”

“You were watching me,” Tim chuckles, like the knowing little brat he is.

“You live an awful lifestyle, I don’t know how you manage to still look cute when you live off coffee and nearly nothing else.”

Tim laughs, a sound that still makes Jason jittery, “Well, I have you now to make sure I do better.”

“You bet you do.”

Their lips met again, their hearts singing their mutual song, hopeful, healing and of resolution. Robin’s song. Somewhere off in the distance, a -tt- could be heard, followed by a grin.

[inyournightmares97]

Antipathy, part three

In which Park Jinyoung, a possibly murderous cat hybrid, makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.

Warnings: Possible strong language and hybrid!Jinyoung.

Word Count: 2.9k

part one  part two  part four  part five  part six

“What possessed you to adopt a hybrid like that?” you demanded hotly. It was only after you’d written your exam and attended all your classes for the day that you could manage to get hold of Nari. You had a sneaking feeling that she had been avoiding you, but you eventually cornered her in the cafeteria at lunch. She blinked at you innocently while biting into her sandwich.

“Hey there,” she greeted you. “Is something wrong with Jinyoung?”

You opened your mouth and hesitated. Where did you even begin? “He’s extremely rude!” you burst out. “He’s ungrateful, he constantly looks at me like I’m trash and I’m starting to believe that he did try to kill Yugyeom! Are hybrids supposed to be like that? I thought they were more sweet and innocent!”

“Well, they are part human so they all have different personalities-“

“And you stuck me with the one that has the shittiest personality possible?” you demanded.

Nari sighed, putting her sandwich down. She scooted her chair closer to you and you noticed that her face had suddenly become serious. “I expected you to be a little more understanding about this,” Nari said firmly. “I told you, Jinyoung’s owner was an old man who died recently. He’s probably grieving and he’s been carted around unfamiliar places since then. Sure, he’s not as happy and cheerful as Jackson and Yugyeom but that’s because he’s going through a hard time. Would you resent a human for not being perfectly amicable after they’d lost someone? There’s no need to set different standards to hybrids.”

You pouted at her. “I wouldn’t have had to take care of a random human for a week.”

“He hasn’t caused any trouble, has he?”  

You bit your lip. Well, technically now, Jinyoung hadn’t caused any problems as such, you just didn’t like having him around. You valued your privacy and alone time so it was frustrating to have a hostile presence in your home.

“No, he hasn’t caused any trouble,” you admitted reluctantly.

“Good. I’m asking around at the shelter and some other people I know, we’ll find him a home soon.”

You left campus feeling a little disappointed with yourself. Nari was right. It wasn’t like you to be so uncaring. You had no idea what struggles Jinyoung had been going through recently and it hadn’t even occurred to you to ask. Despite the fact that Jinyoung had been dumped on you unceremoniously, it wouldn’t kill you to show some compassion. Maybe you should try being a little nicer to him. He might even open up to you.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

You stopped by the hybrid shelter on the way home and explained to the nice lady near the desk that you’d recently adopted a cat hybrid and needed some help. She was only too happy to write you out a list of foods that cat hybrids typically enjoyed and even explained to you that cat hybrids liked to keep themselves well-groomed. You had no idea what that meant, but she just told you to keep some nice-smelling shower gels and other toiletries around.

It took you forever to finish buying all the stuff on the list. You finally trudged up the stairs to your apartment in the afternoon, struggling to carry the bags and forcing a smile on your face. You were going to be nicer to Jinyoung and not let his behavior get to you.

“Jinyoung!” you called out lightly.

Jinyoung was sitting in your living room, curled up on the sofa with a blanket draped across his legs while he watched television. His eyes flickered to yours calmly. He merely raised an eyebrow at you before his gaze turned meaningfully to the clock on the wall. You grunted as you put all your bags on the dining table and straightened up.

“I know I said I’d be back by noon, but I went shopping for some stuff,” you explained. Jinyoung didn’t move from the couch but he was eyeing the shopping bags with interest. You opened the one closest to you and pulled out some things you’d picked up at the bakery. “I got tuna sandwiches! I stopped by the shelter and found out what cat hybrids generally like but it would be nice if you told me your personal preferences too,” you explained as you unwrapped the tuna sandwiches.

You turned around to go get plates from the kitchen, but froze when you realized that Jinyoung was already standing right behind you. When did he even get up from the sofa? Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked up at him; wow, he was a lot taller than you. Jinyoung was biting his plump lips, eyes fixed on the sandwich in your hands. His eyes flickered up to yours, looking slightly hopeful.

“Or you can just… here,” you muttered, handing him the sandwich without a plate.

Jinyoung’s tongue darted out to lick his lips lightly before he grabbed the sandwich from you and took an enormous bite. You couldn’t help but smile; he looked rather adorable and harmless when he was eating. The bites he was taking were too big for his mouth and his cheeks bulged out as he chewed quickly. He kept glancing at you nervously and you folded your arms across your chest. Why did Jinyoung eat like that? Was it normal for hybrids to stuff everything into their mouths in a matter of seconds or was there a reason he ate so quickly?

Jinyoung seemed uncomfortable with you watching so you decided to turn away and go into the kitchen to get a plate for yourself. You’d just put your own sandwich on it and returned to the dining table when you realized that his hands were empty. Was he done already? You gaped at him for a few seconds and blinked.

“Did you just… did you just finish that sandwich in ten seconds?” you asked, eyes wide.

Jinyoung blinked. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were on the plate in your hands. You looked down at the plate and without thinking, handed it to him. He took it warily and you forced a smile at him. “It’s yours,” you told him quickly. “I, uh, I had a bite to eat after class so I’m not hungry.”

He took the plate from you and sat down at the dining table to eat the second sandwich more slowly. You sat down across from him and watched him carefully. Why was Jinyoung so mysterious? You wished he would open up to you but you had a feeling that he would shy away if you tried to speak to him. “Jinyoung…” you said quietly. His eyes flickered up to yours. “You have eaten something since morning, right?”

He blinked at you and shook his head lightly.

You gaped at him. It was almost 2 pm, how could he not have eaten anything all day? You suddenly felt guilty for leaving for classes early in the morning without saying anything to him. Why wouldn’t he eat when he was so hungry? “I know my fridge isn’t fully stocked, exactly, but there’s plenty of cereal and milk and eggs. I’m pretty sure there’s some bread too. Why wouldn’t you eat breakfast?”

Jinyoung looked at you calmly. “You weren’t here,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I had an exam.”

He blinked at you, his head cocked slightly. “Exactly, you weren’t here to feed me.”

What is he saying? Am I supposed to serve him his meals every day?  You cleared your throat and wondered why it was so difficult to communicate with someone who was speaking the same language as you. You ran your fingers through your hair and sighed in frustration. “Jinyoung, I’m not always going to be here. I have classes to attend and a lot of other stuff going on. I understand if you can’t cook but you need to at least open the fridge and eat something even if I’m not here. I mean, I’ll feed you as long as I’m here but at mealtimes, you need to feed yourself.”

Jinyoung watched you with wide eyes. “Feed myself?” he repeated, confused.

You were getting frustrated now. “Look, I don’t know what kind of royal treatment you’re used to, but I can’t wait on you hand and foot!” you told him firmly. “There’s food in the fridge, if I’m not around then eat it yourself. See that jar on the counter? I always keep some change in that so you can order takeout even if there’s nothing at home. Takeout menus are under the coffee table. Okay? Can you do that much?”

“Yes,” he muttered.

“Good. I don’t want to have this conversation anymore. I’m not going to sit and feed you every meal so don’t expect that from me,” you repeated firmly. You sighed and dragged the other shopping bags towards you, starting to take out the other groceries. Jinyoung sat quietly at the dining table and finished his sandwich while you unpacked the rest of the groceries. You were almost done when you heard the doorbell ring. Who was here in the middle of the afternoon? You trudged over to the front door and opened it.

Your next-door neighbor, Ilsung, stood in front of you. He was a large man who was about five or six years older than you and had been extremely sweet about helping you move in when you came here a year ago. He’d even helped you fix a leak in your shower once and you were eternally grateful that he’d saved you from having to call a plumber.

“Oh, Ilsung-oppa,” you greeted pleasantly. “How are you- oh my god. What happened to your face?”

Ilsung’s usually smiling face was marred by a line of thin scratches along the side. They weren’t very deep but they were bright red, and looked extremely fresh. You looked at him with big eyes and noticed that he was frowning.

“Your hybrid did this to me about an hour ago.”

You felt your heart sink into your stomach as you looked at your scratches. It was certainly very likely that the scratches were made by nails. “Jinyoung?” you repeated, shocked. He’d scratched Ilsung across the face? You opened and closed your mouth for a moment, and then opened your door wider. “Oh God. Oppa, please come in, you should put some antiseptic cream on these scratches or you’ll get an infection. I’ll get my first aid kit…”

Ilsung followed you into the living room. Jinyoung was still sitting there and the moment he saw Ilsung, he stood up and let out a low growl. His entire body was tensed up and you glared at him. Is he really dangerous? How could he scratch my neighbor? You were extremely irritated. Not only did Jinyoung treat you like shit but he was even hurting people now?

“Jinyoung, go inside,” you said firmly.

He turned and glared at you, his fists clenched at his side. His back was slightly arched and you could tell that he was trembling. “No. I won’t go inside, tell him to leave the house-“ Jinyoung began in a low voice, but you’d had enough.

“Jinyoung, go inside,” you snapped.

He gave you a long, torn look but he couldn’t speak. Hybrids had no choice but to obey their owners when clear orders were given, it was their natural instinct. Jinyoung clearly didn’t want to leave but he turned around and walked into the study, slamming the door shut behind him. You let out a breath of relief and then hurried into the kitchen to grab your first aid kit. You sat Ilsung down on the sofa and helped him clean the scratch, worried.

Ilsung sighed and gave you a forced smile. “Yah, it’s okay, you don’t have to do this-“

“No, he’s my hybrid. I’m so sorry about Jinyoung, I’m taking care of him as a favor and I don’t know why he’s behaving this way,” you admitted, embarrassed. Ilsung had always been an extremely sweet and helpful neighbor, you felt terrible that this had happened because of you. “What happened? Why did he attack you out of nowhere?”

Ilsung sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d just stepped out of my apartment to head out for a walk with Youngjae. Jinyoung came out of your apartment and tried to attack Youngjae in the hallway; he’s a rabbit hybrid so he was obviously terrified. I tried to get in between them to protect Youngjae and I got scratched.”

You felt your heart sink. “Oh my God. Is Youngjae all right?”

Ilsung chuckled. “A little startled, but he’s fine. Rabbit hybrids are extremely sensitive, they get nervous around other predatory hybrids. But I hope you know that your hybrid is unusually aggressive. I’ve never seen a cat hybrid that just leaps at people like that.”

You bit your lip. “Jinyoung just doesn’t socialize very well with other hybrids, that’s why I brought him here-“

Ilsung hissed as you gently dabbed antiseptic on his scratches and then looked up at you reluctantly. “You know, I hate to say this to you because you’ve always been a great neighbor, but… hybrids with behavioral problems and aggression aren’t allowed to stay in communal spaces like apartment buildings. You’re lucky that it’s me he attacked. Anybody else could make a complaint to the building manager and both you and Jinyoung would be evicted.”

You froze. “That’s not… really?”

“He’s hurting people.”

Ilsung was right. You dropped your hands at your sides, feeling awful. You certainly would have made a complaint to the building manager if somebody’s hybrid had attacked you out of nowhere. Hybrids had all the strength of human beings and the instincts of an animal, they could be dangerous when they were out of control. “I’m so sorry about this,” you whispered. “I promise he’ll be out of here soon. My friend’s looking for another home for him soon, I don’t plan on keeping him. Please don’t tell anyone? If you want to go to the hospital for your scratches then I’ll take care of the medical bill-“

Ilsung chuckled and placed his hands on your arms gently. “Hey, hey, don’t worry about it. This wasn’t a major incident. But you should be careful. That he doesn’t hurt anyone else, and that he doesn’t hurt you. Take care of yourself and call me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Okay. I’m going to get going. Thanks for cleaning me up.”

“No problem. I hope Youngjae’s not too shaken up.”

“He gets shaken up by the birds pecking at the window, there’s not much anyone can do about that,” Ilsung chuckled as he stood up to leave. “Bye.”

You walked him to the door and let out a deep breath as you closed the front door after him. Your heartbeat was thudding and you leaned against the door for a moment to collect your thoughts. This wasn’t working. Jinyoung’s behavior was out of control. How could he attack your neighbor? You had taken him in as a favor and this is the sort of chaos he was creating in your life?

You walked over to the study and opened the door. Jinyoung was sitting on the floor in the corner, his knees pulled up against his chest. His sharp eyes glared at you when you entered and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“What is wrong with you?” you demanded loudly.

Jinyoung remained silent, his gaze dropping to the floor. His arms were wrapped around his legs tightly and he avoided looking at you. You felt your anger increase. Wasn’t he even going to apologize, didn’t he realize that he’d caused a lot of trouble? You folded your arms across your chest and frowned at him.

“Jinyoung. You could have gotten me evicted from my apartment today. Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? It’s bad enough that you treat me like shit and glare at me all the time, I’ll put up with it but you can’t go around hurting other people without a reason!” you cried. Jinyoung remained unmoving, he wasn’t even looking at you. “You’re twenty-three years old, how can you be so immature?”

Jinyoung eyes flickered up to you angrily. “Who said I didn’t have a reason?” he hissed.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you? Is there a reason why you attacked the innocent rabbit hybrid next door? Youngjae’s literally afraid of ordinary pigeons, am I supposed to believe he did something to provoke you? Tell me what your reason is, I’d love to hear it.”

“No, you clearly don’t want to hear it at all,” Jinyoung replied firmly.

You stared at him for a long moment. His soft black ears were pressed flat against his head and you could see his hands trembling. There was something wrong with him, you knew it, but you weren’t equipped to deal with it. What does he want? Grieving or not, you couldn’t afford to take care of a hybrid that could possible get you thrown out onto the streets with his behavior. He would just get sent to another shelter but you would have to deal with the consequences in your life.

“If you’re going to behave like this… then it’s going to be hard for me to take care of you,” you told him firmly.

Jinyoung let out a small scoff and his eyes were cold when he looked up at you.

“You never intended to keep me around for long anyway.”

[djinmer4]

Rasputin’s Model 1/?(Lovecraft!AU)

“Storm!  Storm!  Ororo!”  Storm wakes with a gasp.  From here she can hear the winds lashing against the mansion, and then the patter of rain and hail hitting the windows.  Quickly she gets her power under control, calming the tempest outside.

Hank stops shaking her, leaning back and giving her a few minutes to calm down.  “The usual nightmare?” he asks sympathetically.

“Pretty much.  Underground, in the dark, with no way out.  Except it was worse this time.  This time someone was watching.  Watching me panic and laughing at my helplessness.”  Ororo wiped the sweat from her forehead, then looked down at the drenched bed.  “Ugh, I need to bathe.  This is horrible.”

“I’ll start stripping the sheets.”  Offered the giant blue mutant.

She smiled at her lover.  “Thanks.  Sorry for waking you up.”

“Hey, this is nothing compared to what Jean puts Scott through.”

Piotr can’t stop thinking about the last mission.  No one had expected a cake walk, but to lose two people and not even fight back!  Not that he blamed Katya, she made the right decision to run.  They were outclassed and he suspected even with the rest of the X-Men they wouldn’t have made a dent in that creature’s skin.

He grabbed some of his pink and white paint.  He needed to do something to get the mission out of his head.  The resulting painting probably wouldn’t be any good, but he could burn it in the end.  He settled in front of the canvas, then changed his mind and grabbed the black instead.  He’d try something different today, start with black for a background then layer the subject on top with heavy, opaque oils.  That felt more appropriate.

Piotr painted for hours, not really paying attention to the overall image.  Rather, he focused on the details, on getting everything just the right shade and that the black didn’t bleed through.  He wasn’t really aware what was forming until Katya came to get him for supper.

“Hey, Piotr!  I know you’re in a groove, but it’s time to eat!  I know we’re all upset, but skipping meals isn’t going to make anything better.  You already skipped lunch- Oh my God!”  Piotr turned to the younger girl, confused at the sudden horror in her voice.  “Why did you paint that!?!”

The Russian looked at the canvas, then reeled back in shock.  There, standing out from the deep black, was a picture of Morph’s head, impaled through the neck on a twisted grey spike.  The eyes were open and pleading while blood ran from the mouth and nose.  “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to-  I wasn’t thinking-”

The American came up and patted him lightly on the arm.  “It’s okay.  I understand you needed to get this out of your system.  But we need to burn this before anyone else sees.”

“Da.”

Husk stared at the black spot on her hand.  She’d never had a mole there before.  Concerned that it might be a remnant of her last transformation, she pulled her skin off again.

Nope, the mole was still there.  And did it just getting bigger?

Kitty double checked her room.  No reflective surfaces that could lead to the void.  No pictures out that could morph into hellish landscapes.  All doors closed and locked so nothing could get in without her noticing.  She even leaned down to check under her bed.  Nope, not even dust bunnies since she’d cleaned it out today.  

Despite those precautions, she still woke to the sound of chewing and screaming.  Opening her eyes she was back in that hellish landscape.  Same brimstone smell, same grass-like fur beneath her feet.  Today there were only two orbs in the sky, one yellow and one red.  As she watched, the red globed winked out and then back on, almost like it was winking at her.

“You X-Men are so amusing.”  She turned and saw the creature from the Schwartzwald sitting there.  She could see Morph’s headless body behind IT and heard Tabitha screaming.  The creature held a femur in both hands, and then with a quick twist broke it apart and began to suck on the marrow.  “I’ve been observing for a while, and still you don’t know what’s happening?”

“Why the he-” she stopped herself.  Best not to give the creature ideas.  “Why am I here again?”

IT had finished with the femur and pulled out what appeared to be Tabitha’s arm and started gnawing on it.  “Boredom.  I want some company while I eat.”

Kitty stared in horror.

“Oh, I’ll feed you too.”  A wave of a hand and a table setting appeared in front of her (white linen tablecloth, plush chair, fine bone china and all).  It almost would have been sweet, if there hadn’t been a couple of bloody hands on the plate.  She recoiled away.

“Humans,” IT intoned, bright patches moving back and forth.  “Always so picky.”  Another wave and the arms were replaced by a basket of apples.  “Is that better?”

The Jewish girl hesitated.  Stories of fairy fruit and Persephone danced in her head.  “If all you want is company, there’s no need to feed me.  I’ll be happy to talk to you.” Not.

“Suit yourself,” IT took another bite.  “But be aware, you won’t wake until you’ve eaten and drunk something.”

“What?”

“Oh, I won’t force you.  You won’t get any more hungry or thirsty than you are now.  And don’t worry about missing your alarm or anything.  No matter how long you wait, you’ll wake up the same time you usually do.  It doesn’t matter to me how stubborn you are.  I can wait forever.”

Kitty stared.  Stay here?  Forever?  She could feel her sanity unraveling already.  She looked at the apples, and the chalice full of what she was sure was blood.  “It’s only a dream.  It can’t really hurt you.”  Then she slugged the chalice, grabbed an apple and bit down-

Kitty woke to pounding on the door.  “Kitty, are you awake?”

“Just give me a second Storm.”  She quickly threw on a robe and grabbed her slippers before opening the door.  “What’s wrong?”

“Tildie woke up screaming.  Can you help?”

Kitty quickly made her way to the younger girls’ dormitory.  There she found the child in question curled up and crying.  “Tildie are you alright?”

“It hurts!  It hurts so bad!”  She curled in tighter.

“Will you let me see?  I can try to help.”  Tildie looked up with red eyes but slowly nodded and uncurled.  Kitty, grabbed the first aid kit and prayed it was just a bruise or something equally easy to treat.  Tildie still wasn’t comfortable with Dr. McCoy, and if she refused, they would have to make the trip to Dr. Reyes clinic.

As it turned out, it was just some simple scratches, easily treated with good humor, iodine, and bandages.  But Kitty froze when she realized the scratches spelled out words.

‘Only a dream, am I?’

Gambit couldn’t believe his eyes.  “Didn’t you say de only real way tah cook steak was well done, homme?”

“Yeah, well, I decided to give your way a shot.  Don’t look so surprised Gumbo.”

The Cajun watched as the Canadian grilled the steak over the hot coals, thankfully not using his claws.  When Logan took it off and started to eat, he noticed that while charred on the outside, the inside was still raw.  “Dere’s ah difference between medium-rare ahnd Pittsburgh Blue.”

The older man shrugged.  “Eh, they both bleed when you cut into them.”

[vibraniom]

Unconventional

Includes: Frank Castle x reader, fluff, blood/injuries, and angst.

Brief Synopsis: You witness what Frank does as the Punisher for the first time when he saves you from a life-threatening situation near the dumpster.

Word Count: 2,310

A/N: I wanted to write a Castle fic once I finished the second season of Daredevil, but I was so worried about doing his character justice because I love how dynamic he is on the show. I’m just hoping I did a decent job. 

The shrill voice of a reporter on the news greeted you when you woke, the brightness of the television screen across the room stinging your sleepy eyes. You squeezed your lids shut to block out the harsh light as you felt for the remote blindly and jabbed the power button once you’d found it on the floor.

Without the noise of the television, you could hear nothing except for Frank’s breathing as he lay asleep beside you on the worn couch, his chest rising and falling steadily against your spine. You used his left bicep as a pillow, and the rest of his arm wrapped around your head so that he could thread his fingers through your hair. He had his other arm draped over your torso, loosely gripping your wrist with his hand.

You were glad that he agreed not to go out that night, appreciating the normalcy of eating dinner together and falling asleep next to one another. Usually, Frank didn’t come home until two or three in the morning, and he always returned with more bruises than he’d left with.

You didn’t want to move, but your throat scratched from thirst as you swallowed. Carefully, you pried Frank’s fingers from your wrist, though he slept lightly and even that slight movement caused him to stir. His body tensed, and he used the arm around your waist to tug you closer.

“Where’re you going?” Frank mumbled against your neck, placing a lazy kiss below your jaw.

“I just want to get some water. I’ll be right back,” you explained.

Instead of responding, Frank loosened his hold to let you get up from the sofa. Before you stood, you pressed your lips to the bruise at the corner of his eye, eliciting a soft grunt from him.

Frank’s dog, Max, followed at your heels as you trudged over to the tiny kitchen in your apartment, snatched a glass from the cabinet and filled it with tap water. Max stretched himself out on the tile at your feet while you leaned against the countertop, taking small sips from your cup. Absently, you watched Frank as he drifted off again, his features so at ease that he was hardly recognizable. What he did during the late hours of the night wasn’t exactly conventional or morally right by most people’s standards, but you couldn’t convince yourself to stop loving him for everything else that he hid beneath his hard exterior.

Just as you finished the last drop of water in your glass, your nose caught an awful stench that you traced to the garbage can. You groaned, temporarily trading your love of Frank for annoyance because he forgot to take out the trash. If you left it for the morning, the whole apartment would stink of the meal you cooked for dinner, so you tied the bag, slipped on a pair of shoes and padded down the stairs to the first floor.

Frank had told you never to leave the apartment building at night a while ago, but you thought nothing of it, figuring you would be okay since the dumpster was just outside the door.

You opened the door far enough to fit the bag through and winged it into the metal bin, but someone seized your forearm before you could slip back inside, pulling you out into the alley. The man held you against him, slapping a hand over your mouth after you released a scream. You thrashed without any real idea of how to get him off of you, but your head eventually whipped back into his, disorienting him enough that he let go.

You fell to the damp ground and quickly got to your feet, your limbs shaking with adrenaline as you bolted for the door. Just when your fingertips brushed the handle, the man grabbed a fistful of your shirt from behind, yanking so hard that you fell backward. Your skull banged into the dumpster, both it and your head ringing from the impact. You cried out as your attacker picked you up off of the concrete, one of his muscled arms wrapped tightly around your middle while the other held a knife at your throat.

“Make another move and I will kill you,” the man growled into your ear, pressing the blade into your skin to emphasize his words. “Do you understand?”

You nodded, stifling a sob as tears blurred your vision.

Frank then exited the building, his jaw clenching in anger at the sight before him. He held a black handgun, his knuckles white as he aimed the weapon at the man behind you.

“Let her go,” Frank demanded gruffly, his voice unforgiving and frighteningly stoic.

Your attacker merely laughed, the vibrations of his chest sending a chill down your spine. “Well, if it isn't the notorious Punisher.”

Frank took a step forward, switching off the gun’s safety. “Get your hands off her.”

Suddenly, the man readjusted the knife, plunging the blade at least an inch into the skin directly below your clavicle. You yelled when you felt the burning pain, the wound pulsing with blood. Frank flinched, his facial muscles contorting as he struggled to hold himself back, knowing any reaction from him may result in your death.

“I think you're forgetting who has the upper hand here, Castle,” the man taunted, twisting the knife in your flesh before pulling it out, probably to find another place to stab you and further provoke Frank.

That was when Frank took the shot, the bullet just barely missing you as it sunk into the center of the man’s forehead. His blood sprayed the side of your face and caught in your hair as he fell backward, bringing you down with him. At some point, the knife in his hand dragged against the skin of your upper arm, though you didn't notice the cut as you scrambled away from his lifeless body.

You knew Frank had killed people before, but you had never witnessed it with your own eyes. Your whole body trembled as you glanced over your shoulder at the dead man, noticing the blood that pooled around his head like an unorthodox halo.

One of your shaking hands moved to cover your mouth, suppressing a scream. Frank kneeled in front of you, holding your head in both of his hands to force you to look at him instead of your attacker. His lips moved, but you couldn't hear what he said.

Finally, you came to your senses when Frank murmured, “Y/N, baby, I need to get you back inside.”

You didn't respond as he slipped his arm under your knees and wrapped the other around your shoulders to carry you up to the apartment you shared with him. He immediately took you into the bedroom and deposited you on the bed, Max leaping up onto the mattress to keep you company while Frank searched for the medical kit. With your good arm, you pushed yourself up so that you could lean your back against the headboard, and Frank’s dog lay beside you, warming your leg with the heat of his body. You pet him to distract yourself from the pain, closing your eyes to focus only on the repetitive movement of your hand as it brushed over his short, gray hairs.

Frank returned with what he needed to stitch you up, and you would’ve laughed at the irony of the situation if you hadn’t just witnessed a murder. Normally, you were to one who had to patch his wounds, but the roles were reversed for a change.

Frank sat on the edge of the bed as you slowly pulled your shirt off, struggling to find the least painful way of going about it, and he eventually had to help. Blood soaked the cami you wore underneath, and the wound in your chest hadn’t yet clotted.

“Shit, Y/N. I told you never to leave late at night. You didn’t listen to me, you never do.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied weakly, every excuse that you could come up with dying on your tongue. You didn’t want to argue with him, not at that moment.

Neither of you said anything more as Frank began to clean and stitch your injuries. Aside from your occasional response to the pulses of pain his work caused, you remained detached from the present, unable to keep what happened in the alley from your mind. The sound of the gunshot resonated in your skull, and your skin crawled at the feeling of someone else’s blood on you. Your own blood looked no different from your attacker’s, but it somehow felt different. The drops that had sprayed your face seemed to burn your skin, and you were itching to take a shower.

Frank must have seen the blankness in your eyes, for he whispered your name to coax you back to reality. Your gaze met his, the expression on his face contrasting the way he looked when he killed that man. His brow had been furrowed in concentration, his features lacking the remorse you currently saw in them as he sat beside you on the bed.

“Hey, are you with me?” Frank asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. Red coated his hands, but he had already finished stitching you up while you were lost in thought.

You drew in a shaky breath and nodded as Frank leaned his forehead against yours. You felt the urge to distract yourself from what you experienced in the alley, so you crashed your lips into his, Frank’s body stiffening in surprise. Your heartbeat became more erratic; not from desire, but from something else entirely—fear. You tried to convince yourself that you were being ridiculous, though the emotion was unmistakable. Frank must have detected it too, for he soon pulled out of the kiss, appearing to be just as confused as you were.

“Y/N-”

“I’m going to shower,” you interrupted, unwilling to explain the shifts in your emotions because you couldn't even make sense of them yourself.

You left Frank and made your way into the bathroom, peeling off your blood-stained clothes hurriedly. You hissed when the water slid over the stitches on both your arm and chest, but started to wash the blood off anyway. Once you were clean, you stood under the spray, hoping it would provide some clarity as it always does in countless books and movies, but it never came.

When you stepped out of the shower, fresh clothes waited for you by the sink, and even though you were completely clean, you could not put the incident behind you. You were not even the one to commit murder, and yet, you felt guilty. How Frank managed to kill so many people while still being the man that you loved, you didn’t know.

You exited the bathroom to find Frank sitting on the side of the bed that faced you, his forearms braced on his thighs as he looked up.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Frank apologized.

“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have left the apartment.”

“If I took out the garbage when you told me, it wouldn’t have been there in the first place,” he countered. He paused for a moment, then loosed a short laugh as he added, “Maybe we need to start listening to each other more often.”

His comment brought a smile to your lips, albeit a weak one. It soon fell from your face, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as the weight of the night’s events returned to your shoulders.

Even though you weren't looking at Frank, you could feel his eyes on you, interpreting as much as he could from your body language.

After a moment, he said, “You don’t like what I do—I get that—but if I hadn't taken the shot, you'd be dead. I couldn't live with myself if I let that happen.”

“I know, I know. It's just- I can't get it out of my head,” you clarified, a lump rising in your throat. You were unable to tell if it was produced from the need to cry or to vomit, but you would not have been surprised if it were both. Either way, you swallowed it, knowing neither of the two possibilities would be pleasant.

Another bout of uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you until Frank uttered, “Do you still love me?”

“What?” you said incredulously, shocked that he actually had to ask that. “Of course I do. You saved my life. Why would that snuff out what I feel for you?”

“Well, that didn't seem to be the case when you kissed me earlier.”

“I wasn't afraid of you, Frank,” you assured him. “All of this has me worried that one day you’ll be the one with a bullet in your head, or maybe killing one more person will send you over the edge. When I kissed you, I feared that I might lose you.”

He shook his head, running his hands over his short hair. “I never asked you to worry about me.”

“How could I not?”

Frank’s eyes drifted to the ground, and he started wringing his hands, preparing to say something. “Maybe we should end this, Y/N.”

You moved from the bathroom doorway to sit beside Frank, taking one of his callused hands in yours. “I knew what I was getting myself into from the beginning. Besides, who's gonna stitch up your wounds when I'm gone?”

Frank genuinely laughed, meeting your gaze as he used his free hand to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “If I remember correctly, I had to stitch you up tonight.”

“Well, it seems we both need each other around.”

Frank then tugged at the back of your neck, and when your lips connected with his, your heart beat for all the right reasons.

Thank you for reading! Feedback is much appreciated. Also, if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know.

@bovaria @lilasiannerd @cadetomlinson @buckybarnesisalittleshit @alwayshave-faith @ironstank @stephie-senpai @rotisserierogers @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories

[magzoso-tech]

New Post has been published on https://magzoso.com/tech/diet-autopilot-thistle-raises-5m-for-health-food-subscriptions/

Diet autopilot Thistle raises $5M for health food subscriptions

What if it was easier to eat salad than junk food? Most diet routines take a ton of time, whether you’re cooking from scratch, making a meal kit, or seeking out a nutritious restaurant. But on-demand prepared food delivery companies like Sprig that tried to eliminate that work have gone bankrupt from poor unit economics.

Thistle is a different type of food startup. It delivers thrice-weekly cooler bags customized with meat-optional, plant-based breakfasts, lunches, dinners, snacks, sides, and juices. By batching deliveries in the less-congested early morning hours and optimizing routes to its subscribers, or by mailing weekly boxes beyond its own geographies, Thistle makes sure you already have your food the moment you’re hungry. Whether you heat them up or eat them straight out of the fridge, you’re actually dining faster than you could even place an Uber Eats order.

The food on Thistle’s constantly rotating men is downright tasty. You might get a sunrise chia parfait for breakfast, a chicken tropical mango salad for lunch, a microwaveable bulgogi noodle bowl for dinner, with beet hummus and kale-cucumber juice for snacks. Thistle’s not cheap, with meals averaging about $14 each. But compared to competitors’ on-demand delivery markups and service fees, wasting ingredients from the grocer, and the hours of cooking for yourself, it can be a good deal for busy people.

“We see Thistle as part of a movement to make health convenient rather than a high will power chore” CEO Ashwin Cheriyan tells me. What Peloton did to shave time off getting a great workout, Thistle does for eating a nourishing meal. It makes the right choice the easiest choice.

Thistle COO Shiri Avneri and CEO Ashwin Cheriyan with their daughter

The idea of button you can push to make you healthier has attracted a new $5.65 million Series A round for Thistle led by its first institutional investor, PowerPlant Ventures. Bringing the startup to $15 million in funding, the cash will expand Thistle’s delivery domain. Dan Gluck of PowerPlant, which has also funded food break-outs like Beyond Meat, Thrive Market, and Rebbl, will join the board.

Currently Thistle delivers in-person to the Bay Area, LA metro, San Diego, and Sacramento while shipping to most of Washington, Oregon, Utah, Idaho, Nevada, and Arizona. Thistle actually held off on raising more since launching in 2013 to make sure it hammered out unit economics to prevent an implosion. It’s also planning broader meal options, additional product lines, and fresh distribution strategies like getting stocked in office smart kitchens or subsidized by wellness plans.

“The reasons that so many food delivery companies have failed likely fall into two buckets: one, a lack of focus on margins and unit economics, and two, premature geographic expansion before proving out the business model” says Cheriyan. “Thistle makes money similar to how a well run restaurant would make money – by having strong gross margins, efficient customer acquisition costs, and solid customer retention / lifetime metrics. We currently deliver tens of thousands of meals on a weekly basis to customers on the West Coast and our annual average growth rate since launch has been 100%+.”

It’s nice that Thistle hasn’t gone out of business because I’ve been eating its salads 6X a week for three years. It’s been the most efficient way for me to get healthier and lose weight after a half-decade of ordering takeout sandwiches and then feeling sluggish all day. I legitimately look forward to each one since they often have 20+ ingredients and only repeat every few months so they’re never boring.

It’s helped me keep my work-from-home lunches to about 20 minutes so I have more time for writing. Thistle is one of the few startups I consistently recommend to people. When asked how I lost 25lbs before my wedding, I point to Peloton cycling, Future remote personal training, and Thistle salads — none of which require me to leave the house.

Cheriyan tells me “We wanted the better-for-you and better-for-planet choice to be the default choice.”

Growing Out Of On-Demand

Thistle has already pivoted past the business model burning tons of cash across the startup world. The company started as an on-demand cold pressed juice delivery service, sending hipster glass bottles of watermelon and charcoal extract to doors around San Francisco. It was 2013, yoga was booming, and people were paying crazily high prices for liquified lemongrass. Health made simple seemed like a sure bet to the founding team of Alap Shah, Naman Shah, Sheel Mohnot, and Johnny Hwin, some of whom run Studio Management, a family office and startup incubator. [Disclosure: Hwin and Shah are friends of mine but didn’t pitch or discuss this article with me.]

Thistle eventually straightened things out with a shift to subscriptions and batched delivery under the leadership of the hired executives, Cheriyan and his wife and COO Shiri Avnery. “I came from a family of physicians – both my parents, brother, and enough aunts, uncles, and cousins are doctors that they could start a small hospital” Cheriyan, a former corporate attorney in M&A tells me. “A common point of frustration was about patients suffering from diet related illnesses who were unable to make a lifestyle change because it was too hard.”

Avenery, a PhD in air pollution and climate change’s impact on agriculture, had become exasperated with the slow pace of policy change and the inaction of governments and corporations. The two quit their jobs, moved to San Francisco, and searched for a point of leverage for positively influencing people diets and interaction with the environment. They teamed up with the founders and launched Thistle v1.

A lack of experience in logistics led to the initial detour into on-demand. But rather than trying to fix the problem with VC money, Thistle stayed lean and discovered the opportunity nestled between UberEats and BlueApron: sending people food they don’t have to eat now, but that takes low or no time to prepare when they’re peckish. Through its app, users can customize their meal plans, ban their allergens, pause deliveries, and see what they’ll eat next.

A sample of Thistle 8 meal plans

“The unit economics problem most heavily plagued the early on-demand food companies. Food / labor waste and inefficient deliveries were likely the biggest reasons why the economics were unsustainable without venture life support. We know this personally as Thistle started our delivery service as an on-demand company before quickly realizing that the unit economics couldn’t sustain a healthy business” Cheriyan explains, regarding companies like Sprig, DoorDash, and Grubhub. Beyond unsold food, “the margins very likely did not support ordering a $12-$15 single meal for immediate delivery when average hourly driver wages reached $18-20.”

Meal kits were supposed to make dining healtheir and cheaper, but they proved too much of a chore and led customers to boxes of ingredients piling up unused. Munchery and Nomiku went out of business while giants like Blue Apron have incinerated hundreds of millions of dollars and seen their share prices sink.

“The meal kit companies fared a little better from a gross margin perspective (due to preorders and more efficient deliveries) but suffer most from an easy-to-copy business model. This led to a rise in copycats, and, as a result, heavily rising customer acquisition costs, low switching costs and poor retention” Cheriyan tells me. “Fundamentally the meal kit companies face another challenge, which is that people have less and less time to cook and are increasingly looking for ready-to-eat options.”

Push-Button Health

A slower, steadier approach with less overhead, more convenience, and fewer direct competitors has helped Thistle grow to 400 employees from culinary to engineering to logistics.

Still, it’s vulnerable. It may still be too expensive for some markets and demographics. Logistics experts like Amazon and Whole Foods could try to barge into the market. Cloud kitchens without dining rooms are making restaurant food more affordable for delivery. And another startup could always take the gamble on raising a ton of cash and subsidizing prices to steal market share, especially where Thistle doesn’t operate yet.

Thistle could counter these threats would be further eliminating delivery costs by selling through partners like office smart fridges where employees pay on the spot, or equipping gym lobbies with more than just Muscle Milk.

“One opportunity we’re excited to test is attended and unattended retail – it would be great to be able to pick up Thistle products at your local grocery store, gym, or coffee shop” Cheriyan says. As for offices, “Today’s corporate lunchtime solutions often require a tradeoff between health and convenience: either wait in line for 30+ minutes at your favorite salad spot for a healthy option, or opt into catered restaurant meals that leave you feeling sluggish and unproductive.” Thistle could help employers prevent the 3pm energy lull.

The startup’s focus on plant-forward meals also centers it in the path of another megatrend: the shift to environmentally-conscious diets. Almost 60% of of Americans are trying to eat less meat and 50% are eating meat-alternatives like Impossible Burgers. That stems both from interest in the humane treatment of animals and how 15% of green house emissions come from livestock. But 45% of Americans say they hate to cook. That’s why Thistle makes pre-made meals where meat and egg are optional, but the food is healthy and delicious without them.

In the age of Uber, we’ve acclimated to an effortless life. The new wave of ‘push-button health’ startups like Thistle could finally take the hassle out of aligning your actions in the gym or kitchen with you intentions.

[doveyrei]

Macross V: a Voltron Legendary Defender x Macross Frontier/Delta Crossover (3) -Lance/Keith-

CLICK HERE FOR THE FIRST CHAPTER

CLICK HERE FOR THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Word Count: 1379

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Those were the first words the girl has said, her head tilted with a blank look. I bet you would expect her to spring her eyes open and ask 'where am I?!' or scream and knock the Cuban dead with a single punch.

"The name's Lance," He gives a very white and luminous smile that shines like the ones in those toothpaste advertisements. "But you can call me--anytime."

"Yup, there's the Lance we know by heart." Pidge slams her face into her palm.

The little white mercat jumps off the table in excitement and pounces over at the girl, licking her cheeks happily followed by a wagging tail fin. The girl giggled and embraced her little kit. "Chika! I'm sorry I've worried you." The Mercat nuzzled her face at her owner's neck.

"Cute..." Lance and Keith mumbled simultaneously right when they exchanged looks, they immediately glared and tore their eyes away from each other with a flustered huff.

"So her name's Chika." Hunk repeated the pet's name in a faint mutter no one could barely hear.

Allura lowered herself towards the girl and offered her a hand. The girl gave a nod and took her hand, being hoisted up.

"Th-thanks..--Oh no." Once she got up her legs begin to stagger. Allura caught her in her arms to keep her standing. Chika panicked by her owner's moves, she jumped off towards Hunk's shoulder.

"Easy there, dear." Allura placed her hands over the girl's shoulders. "May I ask for your name?"  

"Merodii Lee," She answered. "I'm a pilot of the Delta Flight Unit and a member of the sound tactical unit, Walküre."

A few seconds after Merodii's last sentence, her face went blue and began to stammer, "Y-y-you're not going to contact them right? If Reina locates me, Makina-san will totally punish me for sure!"

"Who's Reina?" Pidge raised a brow.

"And who's Makina-san?" Hunk added in.

"So you are a runaway." Keith butted in walking towards Merodii pushing slightly shoving Lance out of the way.

"Huh?! It's not like that, I--!" Before she could say anymore, she was interrupted by a loud growl. Merodii pouts, placing her hand over her stomach. "Darn."

"I think it's best if we continue this conversation in the dining room," Shiro speaks to her with a comforting smile if only she could recognize it.

~~~+~~~

"My name is Allura, Princess of Altea," Allura starts. "This is Coran, my advisor."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss!" Coran bowed before Merodii.

She smiles in response. "It's nice to meet you too, Coran."

"I'm Pidge, the smart one of the team. The guy cooking in the kitchen is Hunk," She turns her head over to Keith sitting right across of her, impatiently waiting for dinner. "The lonely emo dude over there next to goofball Lance is Keith."

"Yep that's right--wait what did you just say?"

Merodii nods but refuses to meet Keith's gaze. She felt like his eyes have been over her for a long time--cold eyes.

"And I'm.." Shiro pauses for a few seconds then continues to say something else. "I'm Shiro. Together we form Voltron, the last hope of the Universe." From there on, Allura frowns thinking there might be something that Shiro knows more than the others.

"The last hope of the Universe...You too?" Merodii repeated blinking a couple of times. "Now that I think about it, the Lieutenant did mention about a Princess and Voltron a couple of times before to me. Wait, you're familiar with us too right?"

"Welllll..." Lance panned his eyes sideways.

"We were actually trying to figure out who you were by looking for clues within your fighter," Allura answered. "We haven't been familiar with your squadron unit until now."

"Sorry, we have to barge into your property like that while you were still healing." Pidge scratched the nape of her neck.

"No, it's fine. I did expect for it to be examined if someone did find me." Merodii shakes her head. "I'm certain you saw that video from my phone."

Everyone exchanged looks and simply nodded. After a little while of waiting for food to be served, Hunk finally comes and presents a line of dishes for the lady guest and the rest of the team. "Bon Appétit!" Lance and Keith chowed down what was on their plates right away. She takes a bite of the tasty grub and grinned widely with a satisfied hum. A section of her dark blue hair--a cowlick springs up happily matching her gleeful expression. "Mmm~ Delicious!"

"Aww, shucks!" Hunk smiles bashfully with dusty pink cheeks.

"Hey, you should come visit Ragnanyannyan sometime!" Merodii chimed with her mouth still full. "I eat most of my meals over there."

"A restaurant?" Hunk asked while Lance attempts to steal a bite out of his plate. He, unfortunately, fails with a smack on the back of his hand. "That's a nono Lance, you had your share!"

"It's located in Ragna, the planet I live in." Merodii continued with a frown.

"The planet you ran away from," Keith replied almost immediately.

"I've told you before, I'm not a runaway."

"Then how come you we found your bag, a box of pictures and other stuff behind your cockpit? Why did we happen to find you injured along with a wrecked fighter?" Keith resumed with a series of uncomfortable questions.

"Okay Keith, I think that's enough for now," Shiro cuts him off before he could say anymore. He turns to Merodii, her cowlick wilts with a pout. "You left to find something important. Didn't you?"

"That's right," Merodii says, her brow furrowed. "There's a promise I need to fulfill. A very close friend of mine helped me out of Ragna without being caught by anyone else."

Hayate Immelmann. Shiro already knew he could be able to guess who that person was but said nothing about it. "And what would that promise be?"

"One of our Walküre members, Freyja Wion, was mysteriously taken by Galran Soldiers hours before I left." Merodii placed her fork down and looked up at Shiro with a concerned look. "By one Idol short, it will still affect our performance to neutralize the Var."

"That term keeps on popping into my head since we watch that video. If you could, can you summarize what that is for us, darling?" Allura asked.

"Var Syndrome, a mysterious phenomenon that takes away the sanity of many individuals regardless of race or species. It can infect even one of us in this room." Merodii takes in a serious tone. "The Galran Empire takes advantage of the syndrome's effect, causing innocent people to go berserk and lose control of themselves which may result in hurting another. That's why Walküre alongside with Delta Flight, exists. We are the 'cure' for the Var Syndrome."

"So if we don't get rid of this virus, our success rate to beat the Galran Empire will go down." Pidge adjusted her glasses. A straightforward elaboration.

"I'm not going back to Ragna. Not until my promise to bring my friend back is fulfilled." Merodii completes her dish, consuming her last bite.

"It looks like more challenges await us." Shiro placed his hands over his hips. "But now that we have finished our dinner, I think it's time catch some shut-eye for the day."

"Hold on, where's Merodii gonna sleep?" Lance got up from his seat.

"Hm, I'm sure Keith won't mind sharing quarters! It's the only area with an extra bunk." Coran popped in. His statement made Lance, Keith and Merodii all flinch.

"Eh?!"

"CORAN!"

"Y-Yknow, I can just sleep in my Fighter.."

"Unacceptable! Your jet is unstable to be in. But no worries, Hunk and I will tune it up in a jiffy!" Coran whipped a thumbs up.

"Ya sure you wanna do that Coran?" Lance asks glancing at Merodii.

Merodii simply shrugs. "I don't know man, Keith probably seems like he could be the most toxic person to be around." Another cold flash from Keith strikes her spine, but this time she doesn't really care.

"I like her already," Pidge whispered into Hunk's ear.

"THANK YOU!" Lance threw his hands up in the air towards Merodii.

"It'll only be for a few quintets," Allura added. "From there on we'll figure everything out."

"Sigh...alright."