#but with two people on bark punches we should ??? be able to finish in that time frame

[badolmen]

First day of field work awwww yeahhhh

[discocandles]

Lolirock characters ranked on how likely they would be to rock someone's shit in a fist fight:

Note: this is for characters who speak in at least two episodes. Mostly. There may be a few exceptions.

At the bottom of the list: missy

Tbh missy looks like she'd smack a bitch, but I think she's more bark than bite. The second it's getting physical is the second she's backing out. She's probs the one getting her shit rocked

Next up: Doug

With a name like Doug, you know his fedora-wearing ass doesn't stand a single iota of a chance. And if you get the cell phone, he's down for the fucking count. This is also a good place to put any other love in-show love interest auriana's had... there is one exception

The exception: Matt

Now I know what you're thinking. The dinosaur guy? Why's he soch a big exception? Well it's bc of the falling t-Rex scene. The guy noticed the skull falling and was able to make his way under it, catch it and hold it up until iris got there. Do I think he'd still get whooped in a fistfight? Yes I do, but he's put up more of a fight than the likes of Doug or Timothy(who got bested by a fucking table)

Now, Our magical teddy bear: amaru

While I highly doubt amaru would get into a street fight, I don't think he'd do the best. He's smol, he's squishy, and quite cute. And while these are all amazing facts about him, they are no help in a fight. But I think his cuteness would keep him from being hurt.

She should probs be higher but I'm spending forever on this already: Lyna

Lyna would try to avoid a fight at all costs. don't get me wrong, I'm not saying she couldn't rock your shit. I'm saying she probably wouldn't. This is basically a character trait of hers, as she's a lot better with spells. If she actually joined the fight, she'd probably just fight to a stand still.

Please hear me out: gramorr

yes I am getting a lot of joy from this. We never see him use anything other than magic and intimidation to get his way. without his magic, he only has intimidation. So I think he can barely throw a punch. Like once the person isn't intimidated by him they could probably rock this man's shit, but his presence makes most folks just go "nah, fuck this."

Next: Jenny

Is this mostly to spite gramorr? I'll never say. Listen, Jenny would use a lot of foot work to confuse her opponent, and get them to fall, then beat them up. I think this isn't her first rodeo with this crap.

Ok, this is where I'm putting Deinos and Kakos:

if I could separate them, they'd be a lot lower, but they finish each other's sentences, so they're basically one person. They mostly have the advantage of being two people, but put them in a 2v2 and those kids are getting slammed.

After this: Nathaniel

I feel like this fight is under very particular conditions. Someone's being disrespectful and loud in the smoothie shop. He tries to escort kick them out, and they punch him. Nathaniel is able to get them out the door before punching back. And wins the fight, but gets injured in the process.

We're pretty much in the you never stood a chance levels: Auriana

I know I know, it's probably lower than it should be. But I have a good reason for this. It's bc I can't see auriana getting into a fistfight. She's a very charming person, and that gets her out of a lot of these situations. She absolutely kicks ass, but I think it's almost impossible for her to end up in a street fight.

I think I know what I'm doing here: Mephisto

This is probably just a game to him tbh. Like it doesn't matter that he's not using magic. In fact, it probably helps him some since most of the magic fights are using large spells to summon monsters. Also he's talking trash the entire time, but no one quite knows what he means, so he's accidentally playing mind games with his opponents.

Back again?: it's Amaru, but horse form

Yes they are separate, and I know it kind of contradicts the Deinos & Kakos thing but guess what? I don't care. But anyway, horse amaru could take a direct attack from banes, he can handle a little fist fight. Like horses are kinda tanks already, and he also has wings.

We're def in the you never stood a chance category: Talia

If you're pissing her off, it's barely even a fight. The shit-rocking will be swift, she's by far the most efficient. But she won't do it unless it's really needed.

I'm gonna get flamed for this one: Iris

One of my main reasons for this is bc she was the first person we saw using the crystum-pactus spell, which is just like enhanced punching. And in the episode with the evil stuffed animals, in the initial fight iris just bit the plushie that was latched onto talia.

Like she's more feral than we think she is.

Praxina

I don't know why she wouldn't be using her magic, but actually she probably is, and that's what's she's really able to fuck anyone going against her up.

At the very top: Carissa

For Carissa, every fight is a fistfight. Similar to what I said about Lyna, the fact she's good at combat is part of her character. Carissa is also on the short list of people who have fucking bodied Banes, and on his own turf too. She deserves to be able to kick someone in the face. Like Carissa joining a fight by leaping off something and landing on the opponent's face would be iconic, and you can't tell me I'm wrong about that.

[whysamwhy123]

For the word prompt: grin 😁

Hoo boy, buckle up, because this appears in a looooot of my WIPs! You're about to get a whistle-stop tour into my mind - and it ain't pretty...you have been warned...

First up, from the VERY weird portion of my life where I wrote half of a MaxSquared fic 😬 It gets even worse after this point, so be glad that this snippet ended...

‘’Fuck off,’’ Maxwell spat at him before taking off in the direction he’d been going. Max followed right after, like any good boyfriend would.

MJF made it into the elevator before glancing back at him. He frantically hit the button but fortunately, Max was able to slip inside before the door could close.

‘’Going up?’’ Max asked, with a grin.

‘’We’re on the ground floor, the only way to go is up!’’ MJF barked. His beloved looked so mad, it was insanely cute!

Caster wagged a finger at him. ‘’You’re right! You’re always right, about everything! You know, I think that’s the secret to how our relationship works so well.’’

Secondly, from the inexplicable Daniel Garcia/Julia Hart fic that I started writing. And, uh... *nervous laughter* My shaaaaaame...

‘’Wait…you mean you’ve…done it before?’’

Ricky grinned over at him. ‘’Of course I have.’’

Daniel couldn’t believe his ears. Not even just because of what Ricky was saying, but how casually he was willing to admit it. Like it was no big deal whatsoever.

‘’You’re serious? I swear, if you’re messing with me…’’

‘’Now why would I mess with you like that?’’ Ricky said, placing a hand on his chest in mock-offence. ‘’And why on Earth would I deny a woman the honor, the privilege, the luxury, of claiming Absolute Ricky Starks’ sweet, perfect - ‘’

Next, from... *heavy sigh* A sequel to the first Daniel/Julia fic because I am the kind of person who writes sequels to fics I haven't even finished yet AND they're about pairings that literally no one else on Earth ships...shame.

The man grinned down at Julia, face full of malice. ‘’Yeah, that’s what I thought. Dumb bitch.’’

Oh, that was it! Daniel was about to charge forward and punch that grin right off this asshole’s face. But he never got the chance.

Black mist emerged from Julia’s mouth and coated the man’s face. He screamed and clutched at his face, stumbling back and falling to the ground.

Daniel watched, mouth agape as the stranger convulsed on the ground, a mess of incoherent screams and groans of pain. A crowd had formed around them, people watching on, petrified.

Next up, from my first attempt at ever writing Hookhausen, one that I never got around to finishing. I'm a sucker for trapped-in-a-room fics so *shrugs*

The pit in Hook’s stomach had been replaced by a pleasant warmth. The feeling of a second chance.

‘’Thanks.’’

Danhausen grinned and Hook’s heart felt heavy in his chest.

He cocked his head to the locker room door and the two of them set off. Hook grabbed the handle and pushed but the door barely budged. He raised an eyebrow and tried again, feeling the same resistance. He leaned all his weight into the third attempt, really trying, but still the door wouldn’t open.

‘’What the…’’ he muttered.

‘’The door is stuck?’’ Danhausen asked.

And now we arrive at the last two - my most recent WIPs. First, from a very silly, goofball of a fic where Hook and Danhausen go to the beach -

It was just now that Hook suddenly realised the bag on the ground next to Danhausen was unusually big. Long, too. There had to be more than towels in there.

Hook raised an eyebrow and nodded his head in its direction. ‘’What’s in the bag?’’

Danhausen grinned, his eyes alive with mischievous excitement. ‘’Beach things!’’

Hook wasn’t buying it. Usually he wouldn’t mind Danhausen’s antics but today, he really just wanted to have a nice, chill day at the beach.

Danhausen must have been able to read the uncertainty on Hook’s face. ‘’Hook should not worry - Danhausen is only bringing conventional beach supplies for our beach trip. Perfectly acceptable beach things, he assures you.’’

Uh oh.

And FINALLY, a complete 180 from wacky beach day antics... *even more nervous laughter* This is from the very dark, very messed up Dead Dove fic I've been working on. You may know a little something about it yourself... *wink*

‘’You really can’t do anything, can you? I could do whatever I want and you’d have to just…sit there and take it.’’

Hook’s entire body went still, fear overtaking him, icy coldness shooting through his veins. No. This can’t be happening. He can’t be serious. There’s no way Jack would…

‘’Jack…’’ Hook said. It was supposed to be a warning but his voice was so unsteady, it felt more like a desperate plea.

Jack grinned at him. ‘’What? Don’t act like you don’t want it. Isn’t that why you let him tie you up in the first place?’’

[yandere-sins]

Hello! Can i request a yandere bully! Bakugou, locking a darling in the locker? I may leave You there for a while, and comfort you when the reader is begging you to

Continuation of this one here! Thanks for requesting ^-^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

You couldn’t deny that the feeling wasn’t new.

Being roughly shoved into the barely big enough locker, you both felt scared and, at the same time, knew what to do. Braking your fall with your back, you kept your head forward so you wouldn’t hit it again, the mild concussion you had last time having been learn-experience enough. You had closed your eyes out of instinct when Bakugou gripped your shirt, but they snapped open immediately, trying to help you. However, Bakugou, too, had honed his skills, slamming the door close before you could squeeze your fingers in its way.

You’d rather have a broken finger than suffer this ordeal again if you were honest.

“No!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, knowing it was futile since no one else was around. Still, a part of you hoped that you might be able to intimidate Bakugou to think this over. “Shut. Up,” was his angry reply, his fist hammering into the locker door with every word. You had to fear he might actually break through the door by force, but it would have been in your favor.

It was so damn frustrating. You always thought you had done something to Bakugou, apologized over and over to him, so maybe he’d stop his bullying. But after finally talking to someone about it, you had decided that you wouldn’t engage with him anymore, and well... it just so happened you found comfort in the arms of the new student who finally treated you well as the only person ever since you came to UA. Everyone had always been too scared of Bakugou once he started targeting you. Of course, you couldn’t blame them either...

You and the new student started to hang out at any time, so you could avoid being targeted, and you spent some of the most wonderful hours by his side. The bullying did seem to stop now that a witness was always around, and you were so sure it was finally over, and you could move on. What could have caused Bakugou to explode the way he did? Not only did he punch your new boyfriend - and possibly broke his nose - no, he also carried you off without permission, bringing you to your most hated place on planet earth.

The annex had always been sparsely visited by students and teachers alike. There were just some clubrooms around, but since it was already late in the afternoon and a sunny day, most members were out in the fields or back in the dorms already. But strangely enough, even the weirdo Bakugou had a locker here; one big enough to fit a person in it.

“You can’t-- Ah, damnit, Bakugou! Stop locking me in this damn locker! It’s not funny anymore! What did I ever do to you?!”

Perhaps you were feeling especially feisty that day. You never had screamed at him like this, except if you were pleading for mercy. But ever since your boyfriend convinced you to see the guidance counselor, you had started to come out of your shell. Everything had been so good. Why was it coming back to bite you in the ass now?

Bakugou didn’t respond. No mocking comment, no snide remarks. Not even threats or insults belittling you, even as you started hammering your fists against the door. Out of experience, you knew someone would come. You were sure your boyfriend already contacted the teachers and people were searching for you, and latest when someone passed by, you could reach out and ask for help. But were you really going to fall back into old behavior and just sit it out? Wait for the time to pass and life to go on like before?

“... like you,” you suddenly heard from outside, a tiny voice compared to the usual boom and vibrato that Bakugou had. “What?!” you hissed, annoyed that once ‘his majesty’ decided to talk, he did it so you couldn’t understand. A long groan escaped him, furious and raging. “Just listen, you idiot! I said I like you!”

This time, the ‘What’ echoing in your head was left silent. Your mouth hung open as you stared at the blonde tuft of hair through the slits in the locker, Bakugou standing there with his back turned towards you. “... the fuck...” you finished your thought, accidentally saying it out loud and quickly realizing it, but it was already too late.

“What’s your problem,” Bakugou grumbled, annoyed, and part of you was glad not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t have known how to come to terms with him blushing or nervously fidgeting around like someone who just confessed usually would. “Just tell me what your fucking answer is.”

“No,” you replied instantly, without even a moment of hesitation. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to think it over before blurting it out but never. You could never imagine yourself at the side of your bully, the person who made your life a living hell. Someone who’d lock you in a locker to confess to you. What kind of joke was this?

“No?” he mumbled, suddenly turning around, you two staring eye to eye through the slits. “What do you mean ‘no’?!”

“Is this a joke?!” you barked back. “Tell me it’s a joke, ’cause there’s no way I could be together with you!”

Bakugou opened his mouth to say something, but instead, his eyes only grew redder, expression growing mad and furious, and you heard the unexpected crashing of fists against the metal, making you flinch back. The whole situation seemed so surreal, but it was very, very real. Standing up for yourself made you feel strong, but when uncomfortable silence befell you two, you started to overthink again.

“Bakugou...” you mumbled, placing your hand against the door. You were back to only seeing his hair, but you knew he was leaning forward, probably starring daggers into the ground. Maybe not everything was too late. Perhaps you could fix this, appeal to him one more time. “Just let me out, okay? You and I... that doesn’t work, but we can stop being children and scream at each other and just go our separate ways.”

You couldn’t think of a better way to talk to him. After all, you couldn’t understand what was going on inside of him at all. He had been bullying for god-knows-how-long, yet, he thought he liked you? Couldn’t he see the contradiction in his statement and actions? But this cruelty had to end at some point and now was as good as any. Going different ways would help him too, you were sure.

“Children?” he whispered, finally snapping upwards again to stare at you with a mocking expression. “Do you think my feelings aren’t real?”

Weirded out by his behavior, you only shook your head.

“I don’t think you know your position in this. There is no ‘no’ when I ask you if you like me.”

“Bakugou...”

“It’s that guy, isn’t it? He’s in the way, right? He’s been stealing you from me, taking up all your time that you should spend with me, isn’t he?”

“Bakugou, please, we’re never spending time together--”

“He’s making you say no because you’re guilty, am I right? I can take care of that, you know?”

“Wait!” you interrupted his speech, sudden panic rising inside of you. You were well aware of Bakugou’s strength, but attacking your boyfriend wouldn’t make any of you happy! “If you go, I’ll scream! They’ll find me, and I’ll tell them what you’re doing! That’s criminal! Aren’t you studying to be a hero?!”

Your appeals were met with a cocky grin, his eyes shining as if you just challenged him. “Who says I can’t be a hero and still beat the shit out of that bastard?”

“Everyone! Everyone will know what they did! I will tell them!”

“Try it,” he hissed before pushing away from the locker. You threw yourself against it, but the door must have jammed when he kept bashing into it. Slapping your palm and hammering your fists didn’t help as you had to watch him walk away after looking at you in this typical, belittling way he used, always looking down on you. “You can have some time to think about your answer while I’m taking care of some business. Remember what day it is?” Bakugou yelled back over his shoulder, and you could hear the smug grin on his lips.

“What day...? Friday?” Your eyes widened suddenly as you realized that there were no clubs on the weekend due to the new regulations for safety, and you began to panic and scream Bakugou’s name after him. If you’d just have to spend the night, that would be manageable, but with the strange mood he was in, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust him to come let you out anytime soon. A whole weekend inside the locker would kill you for sure, and tears rolled down your cheeks as his footsteps slowly faded.

What a monster.

How could you ever like him back?

What more would you have to endure because of him?

But truth be told, what else could you do but tell him you liked him? You just wanted to get out of the hell that was this locker. Save yourself from the embarrassment and torture.

"I like you! Bakugou, I like you!" you screamed.

But the footsteps didn't come running back.

[timextoxhajima]

RESONANCE BEACH: Fly Away With Me

RESONANCE BEACH masterlist [to be linked]

member: best friend! jaehyun x reader

genre: fluff and angst

wc: 1.3k

warnings: swearing

synopsis: our hearts are trapped in the same dream

"do you feel better?"

"mm, i think it depends on what we're talking about."

jaehyun chuckles, not bothering to look up from his feet sinking into the sand as he walks. his eyes are slightly squinted from the sun, but only because he's blocking you and using his shadow to keep you out of the sunlight.

"regardless, i hope this isn't a wasted trip. didn't drag you across the country for a road trip only for you to not feel any better."

"uh huh," you snicker and hold your palm over your eyes to look up at him. "i mean, i do. it's just... it's gonna take a while."

he nods, looking up on the other side when he hears a dog bark.

it feels like a million years since you first met jaehyun. he grew up well, as attested by the number of girls on his tail in school. yeah, you know it's cliche. the boy best friend who glowed the hell up and suddenly became the famous, popular jock friend.

but it's not like you hung out with him in school that much - or at least enough for the girls to pick on you.

they know you are friends and a good number of them have done enough homework to know that jaehyun's been your best friend for more than a decade but he hangs out with his big ol' boy gang in school.

leaves you out of the spotlight.

that is - until jaehyun self-elected himself as your personal therapist, bodyguard and chauffeur when your boyfriend decides to dump you on graduation night.

whilst it was fun watching jaehyun being held back by johnny and taeyong from bashing the boy's face in, it really wasn't funny having his words play over and over and over again in your head like a broken record.

"i didn't want to break up with you before graduation because i didn't want to be the reason why you failed your exams."

"i didn't wanna wake you up but we're almost there," jaehyun mumbles under his breath, obviously tired from the driving as well. the car slows to a stop at a red light, and he taps on his phone mounted to the dashboard to stop the GPS tracking.

you shuffle and sniffle lightly, pushing yourself up on the passenger's seat and looking out the window. it's a pretty row of shophouses, and the cafes and restaurants along the road were probably more aesthetic than their menus were.

the restaurant - chosen by jaehyun simply hitting a digital bottle on his phone and picking the one the mouth landed on - was something more like a jazz bar with classy ribs and al funghi linguines.

he didn't really care that you weren't hungry, not when he was.

the strawberry milkshake slurps loudly as he inhales, his hands tightly gripping onto the glass as the both of you watch haechan and mark bicker in the group chat.

you wouldn't describe your friendship with jaehyun as stellar; role model-like. it's not.

you've had your fair share of fights with him- yelling at each other, physical fighting (and by physical fighting, you truly do mean pulling his hair and sometimes he shoves you too).

of course, you'd only allow it because you've given him so many 'gender-equality' speeches, and on top of that, the 15-year friendship? not going to stop him from picking a physical fight with you.

but jaehyun knows when to stop. he knows if he's gone too far or how many more words he can hurl at you before you crack under pressure.

he knows how far he can go before you need to be held in his arms, crying into his shirt and letting you hit him and shove him away - yeah, i know what you're thinking.

sounds like a boyfriend. sounds like that universally known best friends-who-are-probably-in-love-with-each-other trope. it does.

and it is.

the thing is - we already knew.

kind of.

it's in the sweets and snacks he used to give you before and after school if you weren't dating anybody. he was careful not to when you had a boyfriend, but otherwise... you'd lost count of how many people would ask if you two were dating.

you were pretty sure jaehyun had lied and told people you were dating, but it never got out far enough for word to spread. especially not when you were the uglier, quieter best friend of the duo.

"you should ask them to pack the truffle fries, we're not gonna be able to finish it."

jaehyun looks up from his phone and squints at you. "try me."

"you're gonna puke later when you realise you've eaten more than you can digest."

"when have i ever had so much that i can't digest it?"

gently rolling your eyes, you sigh and sink back into the sofa seat. the fries crunch as he jabs the pieces with his fork, shoving them into his mouth like he hadn't had a plate of pasta and some chicken nuggets.

it does get boring with jaehyun sometimes because he's so mellow with his friends he doesn't get into as much shit as the younger ones do; he's never the source of drama.

but he's comforting when you're back at the beach (only because the holiday house was a 5-minute walk from it), and he's holding your shoes because you're too busy screaming about your skirt getting wet.

it's not uncommon for people to question your friendship with him, because you were either too similar or too much of an opposite from each other. most people think he's sweet and caring - which he is - but not with you.

he's brutal and has a strange sense of tough love - because he knows that's the kind you need.

"scream any more and you'll just about wake the rest of the neighbourhood up," he groans, knowing when to step back when the waves crash into your calves.

"why are they so fucking irregular-" you stumble and step clumsily all over the sand, the water and grains getting stuck to your legs and all over your skirt. finally, you give in and strut away from shore, leaving footprints in the sand as you walk towards him.

"think you just lack a sense of rhythm and pacing," he sniggers, yawning as he turns to face the holiday house.

you snort, used to his mockery. reaching out to get your shoes, jaehyun simply turns and walks off with them in his hands.

you'll never deny loving jaehyun - in whatever ways anybody else can imagine or experience, you probably have that with him.

platonic. romantic. hate.

what do people really mean when they say soulmates?

is it the way they complete each other or the way they complement one another?

is it the way they bicker but make up in hot kisses or lovingly press their foreheads together and wish till death does them apart?

god, actually - anything but those.

the thought tickles a funny bone in you, and jaehyun hears your giggle when he comes out of the bathroom with damp hair and his water-spotted shirt.

"what is it? thought of a new insult for me?"

"maybe," you rub your eyes and turn to look at him, giving him a tiny smile before turning back to the ocean stretched out beyond the balcony.

"guess I'm never gonna find that out then," he groans as he sits, pulling his feet in and hugging the arches. "i do hope this trip was a-"

"yeah, it was," you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. "thanks."

"you're welcome."

you look down through the corners of your eyes and catch him staring at you, eyes glimmering like the stars you could see in the night sky.

"you're lucky we've known each other for like half our lives now, else i wouldn't hesitate to punch a tooth out from your mouth."

he chuckles, reaching over to press his knuckle into your thigh. "but you won't. you love me too much to do that."

a snort runs through your throat.

probably.

[katsukikitten]

A harem collab in which we go to a party with our v precious hero 18+ Smut boooiiii

Sitting across from him never did get easier. As much as you told yourself it would. 

If anything it got harder and harder to share the same room as him, let alone air. 

But you were lucky enough, or unlucky enough, to join the agency when you did and to be partnered with your big time crush FatGum. Although you idolized him you were sure he didn't remember you. 

And how could he? He saved countless people a day so it should be no surprise that he had no idea who you were on your first day. Still, it stung. 

And it shouldn't still sting or come to a surprise when he sets down a flyer on your desk. A huge smile on his chubby cheeks as he taps the sheet of paper.

"Can you believe it?! The agency is throwing a new year's eve party!" He practically gushes, lingering by your desk with his intoxicating smile. He rummages in his brown bag, setting breakfast onto your desk careful to avoid getting grease stains on the flyer as if you'd hang it up one day instead of shoving it into the trash. 

"They have one every year." You shrug, thanking him for the breakfast but tossing the paper into the trash can. His smile never waivers as he pulls it from the fresh bin, returning it to the smooth wooden top. 

"Yea but not at a fancy hotel and never an open bar! We should go!" His eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart hammers in your chest. 

Little do you know he prays to the Gods you don't say no. 

"I dont know, it's such short notice. Like next week ain't it?." At least it wasn't a no. He smiles, thinking of your competative behavior. 

"Oh I see what it is." He takes the sheet from your desk, waltzing to his own, "You're scared."

"Tch, scared of what?" You hiss, snatching for the paper. 

"Scared I'll out drink you!" He laughs at your cute scowl as you size him up. His metabolism was insane, and with him being in his larger state you might not be able to win. 

But he didn't have to know that. 

"You fucking wish you could out drink me! Remember the last party we went to? You showed your age and could barely stand!"

"Oi! I was much thinner then. I think luck is on my side this time." He slaps his belly and you smile. A genuine laugh fills the room causing Taishiro's heart to clench. 

"Yea, yea." You wipe away a tear, "We'll see." 

The day drags on and on, turning into a week of you glancing his way. Making sure he wasn't gaining any extra weight as he brought you your normal breakfast daily. 

It wasn't until the day of the party did you gain the advantage, a fight almost turned wrong and Taishiro had to use majority of that stored fat for a deadly punch to stop the villain from terrorizing the city. 

Still you'd never want this type of advantage just for a stupid drinking contest. Although he was not at his largest, he still had a considerable "dad bod" going on. 

"I still can't believe they had a tux in this size so late!" Taishiro shouts into the locker room at the agency, adjusting his tie as he waits for you. Meanwhile nerves eat you alive as you stare into your reflection, wondering if this dress fit okay, smoothing the fabric over your stomach self consciously. 

"You okay in there? We're gonna be late." He calls softly, hoping you aren't having second thoughts about going with someone like him. 

"Coming!" You call back, glancing at your deep amber dress a final time before rushing into the hall. 

"I was just thinking you were going to forfeit and then I-" Words die in his throat and he drinks you in. Beautifully complimented by the shape and color of your dress as he mouth hangs agape. 

"Wow. You look…" 

"Tai, I know, I look...different." 

"Amazing, perfect, breathtaking." He gives you a pointed look, "Which is no different than how you normally look." 

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and you're thankful he misses your flustered expression. The walk to the hotel and the brisk cold air gives you time to not only cool off but think.

Really reflect on the year, this horribly rotten, all bad luck year. Reminding you of all the times you had failed but also reminding you of all the opportunities you had missed. And not opportunities in the sense of promotions or saving people but opportunities to get closer with a certain somebody. 

You glance up at him and he glances down at you, smiling in a way that sets your skin on fire and yet it makes you feel at ease. 

Slowly you were coming to hate it. 

"I'm excited that they decided to invite some smaller agencies. Means I can introduce you to some of the kids I interned. Well I guess they are adults now huh." He looks nostalgic, sad even as he stares into space. Opening the door to the large hotel and it the look sticks with him until he is just before the party doors. 

"Ready?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be." You huff as he places his hand on the small of your back, bringing you into the rented ballroom. Lights and sounds consume your sense as music dances around light conversation. You're beginning to wonder if a drinking contest was such a good idea that is before you see the CEO of your agency totally shit faced. You glanced down at your watch, it was only 8pm. 

Taishiro guides you around the room with a "starter" drink, introducing you to old and new faces. Beaming with pride as he introduces you as his partner and not his sidekick like other heroes had done in the past. You hated how much your heart raced. 

"And this is Kirishima! He was one of my best and most memorable! Kids got guts and heart in spades!" He slaps Kirishima on the back and the young man slumps forward with a sharp toothed smile. 

"Aw come on, I wasn't that great…" He scratches the back of his head. 

"I heard that's when you became 'unbreakable'! I think that's so cool!" You gush over the young hero complimenting him to no end. 

"Stop. You'll give me a big head." He smiles, blushing furiously before his eyes wander to the closeness of the two of you and then they settle on your drinks, "You're not trying to out drink the infamous FatGum are you?" 

You laugh loudly before leaning in close as if to share a secret. 

"Oh, yes and I plan to kick his ass." 

Kirishima returns your smile and stage whispers 

"Taishiro-sama has lost a good bit of weight. I believe in you!" He winks before someone across the room calls for him, "Call me when you get really started!!" 

Two hours pass and you find yourself sitting across from your partner with his sleeves rolled up. Showcasing those deadly forearms as he slams back another shot. Kirishima keeps tally on hotel stationary and announces the number of shots. 

"You'll have to take five to be in the lead! You'll have two minutes to decide to forfeit or-" But before he can finish you're grabbing for one of the prefilled shot glasses. 

"Kanpai!" You shout, slinging them down, ignoring how the room is spinning and how bright the light reflects off of the table full of empty shot glasses. 

Kirishima's eyes widen as you down an extra shot for good measure, tallying the booze count with worry.

"Fat hero." He says, almost gritting his teeth, "You'll have to take seven to be in the lead." 

The large hero leans on his forearms on the table, the alcohol he's had had mostly been processed and maybe your figured that out. That he was starting to lose his edge so he takes you up on the challenge knocking back the several shots as if they were water. You're eager to gulp down a few more praying it drowns out your feelings for the sexy man across from you, instead he lets his broad hand hover over the shot glasses. Silently giving you a reprieve and noticing just how much you're sweating, how blown your pupils are. 

"Let's give it a minute shall we?" He smiles as you drown in his golden eyes. Biting at your lower lip and with a defiant grip you swallow down a final shot.

"Your turn." You focus hard to make sure your words didn't slur, not wanting this feeling or night to end. He snorts, shaking his head wishing you acted out any other time than this. 

"I forfeit." He places his hands up and you glare at him as you wonder if he did it on purpose. Before you have the time to accuse the crowd erupts into a deafening cheer, the room lags as you try to place names with faces as they come close to congratulate you. As more and more people crowd you, the hotter the room feels. Politely you excuse yourself to an enclave balcony closing the doors tightly behind you as you gulp down air, desperate to cool off and douse the desire that burns hot in your belly seeping to your core. 

"Fuck." You rake your nails through your hair as a hit of icy air skates along your skin leaving goose flesh in its wake. A steady warmth comes from behind you, voice deep as he speaks softly. You can tell he's using the same tone he uses on victims, trying not to startle them with his size. 

Little did he know how much you loved how much bigger he was. A safe haven, protection embodied. 

"Ready to go home?"

"No I'm fine! Perfectly fine." He sucks his teeth at your stubborn reply, leaning in close with his hands in the pockets of his tux. 

"You look flushed...you seem out of it." 

"I'm totally of sound mind!" A bark to which he laughs, giving in to the liquid courage as his large hand tilts your chin towards him. Flirting with a line he swore he'd never cross. 

"Yea, if you're so sound of mind, would you let me do this?" He asks, leaning closer, lips almost brushing yours. Your breath mingles with his in little puffs of fog agaisnt the cool air and suddenly you're burning again. 

From the inside out.

His lips touch yours, gently, passive at first and if he's trying to fight against his urges. Slowly he breaks away, amber eyes glued to your mouth before he sighs. Hoping he didn't just fuck everything up. 

In an instant you're drawing him back to you, hands in his golden wheat hair and your fingers weave through the strands. Mouth opening and demanding more as his large hands grip onto your ribcage as if you'd float away. 

And maybe you would, you felt like you could. 

Frantically your hands demand more, exploring up his shirt, touching across his stomach and digging your nails down his back. His own hands follow suit, gripping at your ass and tits, memorizing every luscious curve until he is drunk off of you and you only. You moan into his mouth and with that he loses all restraint. 

Shoving you against the harsh brick building, fisting your hair to tilt your head for better access, exploring your mouth with his well skilled wet muscle. Hands trailing beneath your dress to find your dress, squeezing at your thick thighs and when you moan in approval he moves higher and higher still until his fingers brush against the damp fabric. This time it is his turn to groan as he presses his hardened cock against you, your hips move to grind against his large fingers. 

"Please Tai" It is soft, breathy, sending him into a frenzy as he gives you exactly what you want. Letting his fingers slip beneath the fabric to gather the slick between your folds, gently rubbing against your throbbing clit. You arch against his touch, exposing your neck to him, he leans over and bites. Placing kisses along your throat, making sure to be careful enough to avoid marks before his hazed brain causes him to speak. 

To confess. 

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" He asks, plunging his fingers into your tight heat, stretching you as you mewl, "Ever since I first laid eyes on you. Kamisama you were perfect. And tonight. Fuck baby. Wearing my eye color for all to see. You want people to think you're mine?" 

"Yes, Taishiro. I want people to think I'm yours." You moan, fucking yourself on his fingers before he takes over. Setting a quick pace before he curls his thick fingers just right, in an instant you're creaming against his digits. Crying out as he overstimulates you before he covers your mouth with his broad hand, reminding you just how much he dwarfs you.  

It makes you cum again and again and he corners you against the wall. Cock twitching as he laps up your sinful faces with a gluttonous appetite. 

"Please Tai, pleeeasse." 

"What's wrong baby? My fingers not enough?" His cocky tone drives you mad and your hips buck against his touch before he withdraws from your heat. Panting he levels his gaze yo you. 

"Is this what you want?" Peppering you with kisses as if you could deny him and his godly hands.

"Don't make me beg Tai…" You rasp, he gives a devilish smile. 

"Then I won't." His hands slink up your dress, gathering it at your waist as on skillful finger pulls the overly damp underwear away from your soaking sex. He frees himself and you swallow, not realizing just how large he was, for a moment you worry you won't be able to take him. 

"I'll be gentle." He coos, easing himself in an inch at a time as your stretch around his thick cock. Pussy fluttering as it adjusts to his size, he gathers your legs to his sides, squeezing your hips to keep from rutting into you roughly. He pistons his hips slowly, watching your face contort as he angles himself just right. Sensual thrusts have your legs and pussy squeezing him so deliciously tight. Still he worries he's going to hurt you.

"You okay?" Alcohol lingers on his breath and you swallow him whole with a kiss. Moaning into his mouth softly as he rocks you into one of your most intense orgasms to date. It's a slow build, undeniably intoxicating as his steady pace hits your spongy soft spot and his pelvis rubs against your clit. The coil in your stomach snaps and your body clamps onto the behemoth of a man tightly, stars dot your vision as he continues to fuck you through it. 

"God you're so beautiful ya know? So responsive to my touch. Taking me so well baby." He purrs against your ear, "Makes me want to keep this pace all night." 

He keeps true to his promise, bringing you to new heights at the steadiest of paces, causing you to lose count of how many times you've cum on his length. Pussy attempting to milk him dry as he palm swallows your screams. He looks at your features, your makeup running from delirious tears, mouth fallen opened in a propetial O as your hair clings to your skin. 

"Kamisama you're like art." He kisses your quickened pulse, "Ready for me to fill you love? You're squeezing me so tight…" 

He groans and all you can think of his him and the searing pleasure that courses through your veins to settle in your over sensitive heat. His cock twitches and you want nothing more than to be stuffed full of the Fat Hero's fat cock and his cum.  But words are lost in your hoarse throat and all you can do is nod, moaning his name as if it were a prayer. It's all the encouragement he needs, quickening his pace as the crowd inside grows louder. Counting down from 10. 

It's all lost to you and his hips snap against you, the brick scraping against your shoulders as his grip on you becomes so tight you're sure you'll bruise. Your body hyper aware of every little sensation as you drown in pleasure and warm amber sun, he groans, painting your walls in hot ropes of cum, your vision spots as your body arches to meet him as your spams a final time while his lips crash to yours. 

All the while fireworks erupt over head, bringing in the new year on a literal high note. 

He huffs, sweating as he looks at you, still buried to the hilt. Swiping his thumb over your cheek and running mascara before he breathes out so gently. 

"Happy new year baby." 

[noforkingclue]

No Questions Asked (Laszlo Kreizler x reader) Chapter 1

Summary: You operated on a ‘no questions asked, no answers given’ policy. You never questioned anyone who passed through your door in need of medical attention. That was until a certain doctor decided to grace your doorstep.

Pair: Laszlo Kreizler x reader

Warnings: period typical attitudes, violence, mentions of domestic abuse

Author’s note: So I might’ve fallen in love with Laszlo and ended up binging the whole of the series! Oh well, onto series 2!

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary

“Come on Doc,” said Polly, “Surely you can give me some good news.”

You looked at the woman in front of you and closed your eyes. She gave you a desperate, pleading look and grabbed onto your shirt sleeve. Cracked fingernails with dirt and grime under them held onto you tightly and all you could do was pat her hand.

“I can’t go out like this,” she pointed to her face, ”Y’know the types of clients I’d attract looking like this.”

“I can’t do anything to speed up the healing,” you replied quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Polly leant back on the bed and glared up at your ceiling. Alice was standing by the door making sure that no one else got in before their time. You gave Polly a sympathetic pat on the leg as you got out a needle and thread.

“The only cure,” you said as you held the needle in a pair of tweezers, “Is to leave that bastard.”

“No.” Polly said firmly, “I can’t do that. He looks out for us.”

“By treating you like a punching bag?”

“Better to get hit by someone you know then a stranger on the street.”

You pursed your lips in displeasure as you ran the needle through a candle flame. Polly looked at the heated needle nervously as you waited for it to cool slightly.

“Do you have to do that Doc?” she asked nervously

“Yes,” you said, “Reduces the risk of infection.”

“Never had anything like that before.”

“And do you want to start now?”

Polly reminded silent as you threaded the needle and went to work stitching up the cut on her leg. You never expected to have ended up working as an underground doctor in New York City, helping prostitutes, criminals and anyone who couldn’t afford a formally qualified doctor, but it was better than Whitechapel. Once you had finished the stitches you leant down and bit off the thread.

“Now for the fun part.”

You grabbed a bottle of cheap whiskey and uncorked it. Polly grinned at you and reached towards the bottle.

“Fucking thank y- OW!”

She was interrupted by you pouring it on her wound. She glared at you from the bed but you just pushed her back down.

“How many times have I done this,” you muttered, “And you never-“

You were interrupted by shouting and gritted your teeth. You were all too familiar with people trying to push to the front of the queue. You turned around and glared at the door. To your surprise it wasn’t your usual type of client. Alice was standing awkwardly by the door, a half finished cigarette waved at the two gentlemen.

“Tried to stop them Doc,” she said, “But they wouldn’t listen.”

“What do you want?” you snapped, “I’m busy. Alice, Polly is done. Can you take her home?”

“Sure.”

“We need information.” Said one

American by his accent and you snorted. You sat down on the bed and took a sip of the whiskey. It was cheap and it burned as you swallowed. You could take a guess at who the men were, you heard many of your clients talk about them.

“You interrupted my night,” you spat, “For information? Why the fuck should I?”

“Because,” the second gentleman stepped forward, “You’re the only person who’d be able to help us.”

You studied the two men intently before sighing.

“I have a feeling,” you said standing up, “That even if I say no you’ll just ignore me.”

You opened you door again and looked out at the people waiting.

“Sorry guys,” you yelled, “Shut for the rest of the night. Come back tomorrow morning.”

You slammed the door in their faces and tried to block out the sounds of protesting. People came to you as a last resort and while you didn’t like turning people away you knew that the two men in front of you would be more profitable.

After all, you still had to eat.

“What can I help you two gentlemen with?” you asked lying down on your bed

“Allow us to introduce-“

“I already know who you are,” you said, “You,” you pointed the bottle at the American, “Are John Moore, which makes you Doctor Laszlo Kreizler. It might come as a shock to you but not everyone like me is completely stupid.”

“I never said that you were,” Kreizler had sat down on the only chair in your small room and laced his fingers together, “What can you tell us about Mr Peter Barker?”

“Him!” you let out a bark of laughter, “He’s a thug and a cheat. I doubt the likes of you would want to get mixed up with him.”

“And would you know where he was last Friday?”

The answer to that was yes. You looked at Moore and Kreizler through narrowed eyes as you took another swig of whiskey. Barker had dislocated his shoulder and like many criminals turned to you for assistance. Usually you would refuse to treat thugs like him but the promise of money changed your mind.

“Why?” you asked slowly

“Just answer the damned question.” Said Moore

“Alright,” you said calmly, “I just wanted to know why.”

“It’s a police matter.” Said Kreizler

“And you think that’ll persuade me to help?” you asked

Kreizler gave you a soft smile and shrugged.

“In some cases.” He said

“What has he done?” you asked, “Is it a death sentence?”

“Might be.” Replied Kreizler

“Barker is a bastard,” you replied, “It would be better for everyone if he did fry.”

“Even if he’s innocent for the crime?” asked Kreizler leaning forward

“There’s a hundred more he’s guilty of. He deserves to die.”

“But you are a man of honour,” said Kreizler, “You wouldn’t let an innocent man die.”

“He’s not innocent though.” you said

“He is of this crime.” Insisted Kreizler

“And how do you know I’m a man of honour, as you so gracefully put it?”

“You help the people who no one else would help,” he insisted, “Even though you hate this man you wouldn’t do that.”

He held your gaze for an uncomfortably long time. As much as you wanted to break his stare you found that you couldn’t look away.

“Yes,” you said at last, “I do help the people who everyone else has rejected.”

“Then you’ll-“

“And that includes Barker’s victims.”

You stood up and folded your arms.

“The men he attacked when they didn’t give him money. The women he raped when they told him ‘no’. The children he had beaten up or sometimes even killed when their parents wouldn’t submit to his demands. If me telling the truth means that he walks free to commit more of these crimes then I’m just as guilty as he is.”

“So you’ll send him to the electric chair.” Said Kreizler not bothering to hide the shock in his voice

“The chair is too good for him,” you spat opening your door, “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m tired. I’d like you to leave.”

Kreizler sat stiff in your chair for a moment before he stood up sharply. He gave you an unreadable look before swiftly marching out of the room. Moore gave you an amused look and nodded at you as he left. You got the distinct impression that he had agreed with what you had said but didn’t want to say it in front of the doctor.

Once they had left you shut the door and leant against it. You ran a hand over your face and groaned softly. You wanted another drink but knew that if you did you wouldn’t be in a fit state to work tomorrow. You collapsed onto your bed and tried to get some sleep. You had a strong feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d be meeting with the doctor or his friend.

[somedrunkpirate]

Cambiare (Geraskier Ficlet)

Cambiare [It.]: To change; i.e. to change to a new instrument, etc. “Do you think you can change the world with your singing?” ----- Read on ao3 or continue reading here Breathless from the long performance, Jaskier flings himself down beside Geralt on the rickety wooden bench. Geralt raises a single eyebrow at him, but he does not protest when Jaskier snags his ale from the table and takes a deep drink.

“Ah,” Jaskier says. “I needed that.”

“Hmm.” Geralt motions to the innkeeper and says, “Two more of those. And some meat.”

“Add that damned peach tart, please,” Jaskier says quickly. “Been smelling it all night. It was absolute torture.”

The innkeeper barks a laugh and nods. “Be right there, sirs.”

Geralt takes out a satchel, coin clinking at the movement. But the innkeeper holds up his hands.

“No, no, on the house. It has been a long while since we had such a performance, and it would be my honour to provide to Geralt of Rivia. It is your doing that the village is finally safe again.”

“Hmm.”

“Thank you,” Jaskier says heartily, flicking Geralt’s thigh under the table.

“Thank you,” Geralt huffs, “for your generosity.”

The innkeeper beams, and scuttles off.

“What a lovely fellow,” Jaskier says, and then finally allows himself to collapse face first on the table, completely boneless and exhausted, but satisfied.

“Do you need a nap?” Geralt asks, wry. It would’ve sounded snarky in any other voice, but Jaskier hears his amusement nonetheless.

Jaskier turns his head so he can give a glare appropriate to the situation. The effect is likely sabotaged by the fact his face is still smushed against the wood.

“For all you mock my trade, you sure can’t deny the constitution it takes to keep a crowd in high spirits for hours on end. I can barely feel my legs.”

“No one forced you to hold court for the whole night.”

“It is what I do, Geralt. You get swallowed by monsters on occasion, I have blisters on my fingers from sheep-gut strings. We all make our sacrifices. But it is worth it, is it not?”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “I might not be saving people, but I do provide some joy and delight. Things in short supply, these days.”

“Is that all?”

“What?”

“You don’t just play songs. You write them. So is that all?”

Jaskier turns his head away again, feeling caught out. “Well if it puts coin in our pockets, and spreads stories of your good deeds, then maybe something more than joy comes out of it. Tonight our actions got us a meal, at least.”

There is a long moment of silence, in which the innkeeper returns with their meal and ale, and Jaskier picks himself up just enough to be able to eat. It is only when the plates are empty that Geralt speaks again.

“Do you think you can change the world with your singing?”

“I— I can change minds. Some minds, about some things. But to change the world, the volume of minds is key, and I don’t know if I ever could reach such heights. So whether my music changes someone’s mind on whether or not they should dance today, or entice them to sing along and drink another ale, is kind of irrelevant. I suppose it depends on your definition of a changed world.”

“Hmm.”

“Is the world not changed by the existence of my songs, in itself? It would be another world without them, wouldn’t it?”

Geralt huffs. “A better one, maybe.”

Jaskier punches him in the shoulder. “I will disregard that comment. But now that I think on it. Have I changed the world by composing a love song -- on commission, of course, --- that leads to a union between two people, and children and a happy life? Another bard could have done the same. Or did I change the world by reminding a lord of an ancient myth through my songs sung on his birthday, leading to a whole army to bear a white stag on their breast— even though the white stag was never in the original myth. I was just missing a syllable.”

“You influenced something, at least.”

“I suppose, though, again, another bard could have done the same. And what does a banner change in the grand scheme of things? Whether his men march under a stag or an owl does not change their actions.”

Jaskier sighs and takes a sip of his ale. “I suppose any bard can provide the same laughter and dance I do, with nary a mind changed. I have been able to affect the world in some ways, change some people’s days and maybe their interests or passing fancies. But whether I changed the world at large? It depends on your definition of change, and personally I think not. I hope I might some day. But I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Hmm,” Geralt says-- disagrees. “You changed mine.”

“Ha. Yes. For the worse, like you said.”

Geralt touches Jaskier’s shoulder for just a moment, as he says, low. “You changed their minds about me.”

There is a momentary silence in which Jaskier loses all ability to think.

Geralt is just watching him with a quiet intensity that Jaskier doesn’t know how to interpret. More so when it seems to… soften, over time.

They both startle when the innkeeper is suddenly at the table, shattering the tension completely.

“You have finished, I see. Everything to your wishes?”

Geralt nods.

“That is good to hear. Thank you again for all you did for us. I hope you pass through again soon. Let me know if you need anything.”

The innkeeper scuttles off with another bright grin, humming something familiar.

Toss a coin to your witcher

Realisation catches in Jaskier’s throat, but with exhaustion on his heels, he can’t formulate much more than ‘oh.’

His rare moment of speechlessness doesn’t seem to faze Geralt, however, because he allows Jaskier to lean on him while walking towards their rooms. As they part, Gerald’s hand lingers for a moment too long on Jaskier’s waist. His gentle touch feels like an unspoken thank you.

And maybe, like something else. Another change in their world.

Jaskier supposes he’ll have to write a song for it.

[niphredil-14]

Arthur, Napoleon, Leonardo, and Comte With an S/o Who Kicks Ass In a Cat Fight

Requested by: @hitsuhina4ever

I am so sorry, I couldn’t think of anything for Theo! My bad!!

Arthur: Now, women fight much differently in the twenty first century than they did in older generations. So, no wonder Arthur was caught off guard when he witnessed the absolute monster that you are when one of his ex-flings starts shit with you.  “He’s mine, you whore! Mine!” The girl shouted, drawing attention to you and your boyfriend who were standing across from a hysterical, jealous woman in a bright dress. Arthur was about to step in, but was left with no time to as you pulled him into a deep kiss with your hand entangled into his hair and his arms around your waist, all while you stared the woman down. After a few seconds, you pulled apart, with a string of saliva still connecting your lips.  “If he were yours, sweetie, I wouldn’t be able to do that, now would I?” You spoke confidently, placing a hand on your tilted hip and smirking in such a way that would put Theo to shame. The woman let out a shriek and rushed forward, raising a hand to slap you. Her hand was easily dodged, however, and it was no more difficult to deliver a swift punch to her jaw, that was much stronger than expected, and sent her sprawling onto the pavement, dizzy, and almost unconscious. Vic barked happily, but his master was left speechless, watching you wring out your wrist and dust off your skirt. It wasn’t until you walked up to him, intertwined your fingers with his, and asked if he was ready to go, that he started freaking out, marveling at your skill, but then telling you that you could’ve gotten hurt. You better believe that he is taking you right home to check you over and make sure that you aren’t hurt, despite the fact that your opponent didn’t lay even a single hit on you.

Napoleon: Napoleon wasn’t even there when the fight began. You had gone out to buy groceries when a lady decided to start talking shit, and if being from the age of the internet has taught you anything, it’s how to yeet a bitch into oblivion. Napoleon had also been out, teaching his fencing classes when he heard shrieking and yelling. He told his students to stay put before he went out to investigate. Needless to say he was surprised to see you side stepping a punch, only to grab to woman you were fighting’s upper arm with one hand, and lower forearm with the other, only to proceed to literally throw her over your shoulder, face first into the ground. It wasn’t until you placed your heel atop her skull and yelled,  “Talk shit again, hoe! I fuckin’ dare you!” That the emperor decided to step in. He gently placed a hand on your upper arm and pulled you off of the woman. “Come on, Nunuche. Let’s go, you can tell me what happened later. He’ll take you back to his fencing class, and afterwards will help you finish grocery shopping before taking you home. He’s wasn’t that surprised that you’re strong, he’s seen that fire in your eyes, he knew you could kick ass.

Leonardo:  Leonardo hates the idea of you getting hurt, so he has always tried to diffuse any situations where you might end up in a fight. Luckily for you, though, your dear boyfriend wasn’t around to get in the way of your fight this time. It wasn’t even your fault! That woman should have known better to talk shit when you were in a pissy mood. All that, “Leonardo deserves so much better than you!” Shit. She really should have seen that punch coming. Even though she didn’t expect your fist colliding with her stomach, she was more than ready to come springing back, claws out, all for a good cat fight. A second punch to the boob, and a kick to he gut, followed by a leg sweep was enough to get her to walk (read: hobble) off. It was only when you turned around, about to walk off, that you saw Leonardo in the crowd, approaching you. He was surprised, he knew you were strong, but he didn’t realize the true extent of your strength. His surprise was overtaken by his worry when he saw the slight bit of blood dripping down your cheek from your opponent’s nails. He quickened his leisurely pace to a near-sprint, only to lightly trace your cut with his fingertip, picking up a bit of the blood onto his index finger. Though his thirst was screaming at him, he still refused to drink your blood, and instead opted for picking you up in his arms, bridal style, quietly whispering, “Cara mia...” and walking you home to the mansion. 

Comte: You had been forced to watch woman after woman flirt with your boyfriend. Sure, the ceiling was a glimmering gold, making it seem as though you were standing right below the sun, and the food and drink were not only refreshing and nourishing, but also delicious, but none of that made any difference when your skin was practically turning green with envy. The current woman was much bolder than the previous ones, and had the audacity to place her hand on your man’s chest. That was when you passed your drink over to Leonardo, who had attended the ball with you and Comte, and now was standing next to you at the food table, making up stories about each woman daring or stupid enough to attempt to sway a taken man into adultery. And in his defense, his company had helped you cope with watching Comte and his flock of female fans for some time, but this one had gone too far, and it was time for you to step in. You eased the scowl from your face, and in its place put that signature fake smile that most people from the twenty-first century can do as easily as breathing, and waltzed forward, towards your lover. When you reached him, you gracefully grabbed hold of his elbow and upper arm while pressing your chest into him, and greeting his ‘fan’ with,  “Oh, hello! I see you’ve met my boyfriend. Isn’t he just so sweet?” The woman scowled, before replacing it with a snake-y smile to match your own, and then excused herself. With your man looking only at you now, you pulled him down for a deep kiss before pulling away and excusing yourself to the bathroom with the excuse of, “Leonardo gave me way  too much wine while we were forced to watch you with those hoes. I’ll be right back.” You went and did your business in peace, but was greeted with an unsightly face upon your exit. A few exchanged words with one another, and a jealous spat had turned into a cat fight. She couldn’t compare to you, and was getting her arse handed to her. She went for one final punch, hoping to land at least one, when your lover appeared in front of you, catching her hand before it could hit you. You were having none of that, though, you didn’t need to be saved. So, you ducked under his arm and delivered a swift upper cut to her jaw, sending he to the floor. That’s when Comte decided that this was the time to leave, and went with you to round up Leonardo, only to find him asleep in a spare room. The two of you knew better than to wake him, and figured he’d get home just fine on his own. When you were in the carriage however, he confronted you. He cradled your face in his large, warm hands, and softly said,  “You know you have nothing to be jealous of, ma cherie, you are the only one in my heart.” To which you leaned your head into his hands, closed your eyes, and sighed. 

[mishasminion360]

Here Comes the Boom

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Warning: Language

Notes: This is a sequel to my fic “This Feeling Has a Name”. That fic was supposed to be a one shot, but I received some very positive feedback inquiring about more, so I figured ‘what the heck!’ I hope you enjoy this installment as much as the first. Thank you for all your likes, love, and support. Also, stay tuned because I have a major Mandalorian fic in the works.

Since the night you ended your relationship (such as it was) you’d avoided Javier Peña like the plague. Not an easy thing to do considering you worked in the same building. Anytime the two of you made eye contact, you’d quickly duck out of the room or strike up a conversation with some poor, unsuspecting co-worker before Javi could corner you.

You’d gone as far as to request a transfer, but the powers that be were dragging their feet through the sea of paperwork. For now you’d just have to grin and bare it to the best of your ability.

You reassured yourself over and over again that putting some much needed distance between you and Peña was the wisest move; you repeated it like a mantra in your head. You practically meditated on the thought, like the fucking Buddha.

Your brain was firmly planted in reality, but your heart, God damn it, still needed a little more convincing. It was still nestled comfortably in Javier’s hands.

When you were certain he wasn’t looking, your eyes would lock onto him across the room. They would gaze. They would linger. And you would yearn. You’d walk past his empty desk and your fingers would unconsciously reach out to graze the smooth leather of his jacket draped over the back of his chair. The same jacket he’d once wrapped around your shoulders.

It was undeniable: you’d been bitten by the proverbial love bug and were sick as hell, and there was no cure. You worked in the same room as some of the most brilliant, tactful minds on the planet, so you knew there was no hiding your condition for long. And, of course, Steve Murphy was the first to figure it out.

“What the hell did Javi do now?” he asked you point blank, cornering you at the water cooler.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to feign ignorance and failing miserably.

“Well, he’s been more of a bastard than usual and I figured it had something to do with you. And if something did happen between you two, because it’s always the safe bet, I could only imagine that Javi fucked up royally. So, I ask again: what did he do?”

You gulped down your water, wishing it was something stronger, and tossed the cup.

“Why do you assume his bullshit has anything to do with me?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Murphy’s mouth.

“Because nothing gets him more worked up than you.”

You knew it was meant as a compliment, but you tried desperately not to see it that way.

“We’re hunting Pablo fucking Escobar, darlin’. One of the most dangerous criminal, dare I say masterminds, in all of Colombia, potentially the world. But not even this motherfucker has been able to get under Javi’s skin the way you have. And don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Of course Steve noticed. Because you were so damn obvious. You were ashamed and embarrassed of your unprofessionalism, but you couldn’t blame that on Javier Peña. Your feelings and the resulting behaviors of said feelings were your own.

“The relationship had run its course, Steve, so I ended it. That’s it. We’re adults, adults break up. If Javi is insisting on taking it like a child, that’s on him.”

You return to your desk and attempt to lose yourself in paperwork. You know Steve wants to say more; the silence that follows is pregnant with his unvoiced questions, thoughts and opinions. Fortunately for you he’s wise enough to keep them all to himself.

“Hang in there,” he mumbles, patting your shoulder in a brief gesture of support before striding off.

***

You finish drying your hands and you’re about to exit the ladies room when suddenly the door flies open and in storms Javier.

“Shit!” you exclaim, both startled and a bit disgusted at the lengths he would go to just to confront you.

“We need to talk,” he grumbles, standing between you and the door.

“We have nothing to talk about, Javier, and certainly not here of all places!”

Just then one of the receptionists attempts to enter the restroom, doing a double take when she notices Javier.

“Go find another bathroom,” he barks at the wide eyed young woman.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Peña?” she snaps.

“OUT!” he roars. She doesn’t need to be told twice.

For good measure he locks the door behind her, and the two of you are officially alone. Even in the enclosed space, you try to put as much distance between the two of you as physically possible.

Javier let’s out a frustrated breath as he runs a hand over his face and through his hair.

“I know it’s the last thing you want to do, but I need you to listen to me. Just listen to me. Okay?”

Your heart is thudding in your ears but you attempt to play it cool by crossing your arms and leaning back against the sink.

“I’m listening.”

Javi took a deep breath then began again.

“You know I’m not the best at showing emotion-“

You cut him off with a laugh.

“You just screamed a poor woman out of this bathroom and you say you’re no good at showing emotion?”

You could see the anger boiling up inside him once again, but he closed his eyes, took a breath, tamped it down, and continued.

“I don’t typically get close to people, alright? I don’t usually do relationships, friendly or otherwise. What you and I have...”

You shot him a pointed look at the same instant he caught his mistake.

“Had ,” he corrected. “That’s usually the extent of my emotional attachment.”

You snickered a bit. “I sure as hell hope Steve is enjoying it while it lasts, then.”

“God dammit, I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Now you want to get serious?”

That may have been a poor choice of words. Actually, goading him on while he was obviously upset may have been one big bad idea on your part, because in a flash Javier was crushing his body to yours and shackling your wrists in his hands. He was so close that you could feel the heat from his skin burning your own. Or maybe that was your own.

He took a second to recollect himself, but he didn’t release his grip on you. In that moment you didn’t mind.

“Just who the hell said I didn’t love you, huh?”

His entire body was like an angry storm: his pounding heart was thunder, and his words struck you like lightening. But his eyes, just like that of any other tempest, were calm. And as you gazed into them your fear was washed away, as if by rain.

“You did,” you whispered. “You told me, Javi, that love wasn’t your thing. You warned me when we first started seeing each other, and you just said it again now. Don’t you even hear yourself when you talk?”

He didn’t say anything, only swallowed painfully over the lump in his throat.

“I get it, Javier, okay? This is not my first time being with someone like you. I know there are people out there who just can’t stand the idea of love and relationships, and there’s nothing wrong with that. To each their own right?”

He seemed frozen so you took the opportunity to release yourself from his grasp and lower his arms to his sides.

“That doesn’t make you a bad guy, Javier. You don’t have to apologize for being who you are. You don’t ever have to apologize for that.”

You looked away as angry, self conscious tears filled your eyes.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, Javier. I’m sorry that I wasn’t more careful. I’m sorry I didn’t take your warning to heart.”

Before you even realized what you were doing, you brought your hand gently to his face. This could, would, be the last time you ever touched him, and because he probably understood that all too well he reached up and placed his hand atop yours, pressing it harder against his cheek.

“I’m sorry I fell in love with you, Javi.”

You saw his eyes go painfully wide as you slipped from his hold and made your way around him, not sparing a single look back as you left the restroom. You didn’t see him punch the mirror, but you heard the glass shatter from the other side of the door.

Wiping angrily at your eyes, you hastily retrieved your jacket and purse from your desk and tapped Steve on the shoulder on your way out.

“Tell the boss I’m leaving early,” you said, and if Steve was going to protest you didn’t give him the chance. You were as good as gone.

***

The next day you called in sick. For one day, just one lousy fucking day, you wanted to be alone to drown your thoughts under a stack of paperwork a mile high. You told the boss not to call and bother you unless your transfer request had gone through.

But as luck would have it, you picked the wrong fucking day to stay home.

One second you were skimming page after page of Escobar’s dossier, the next the pages were fluttering in the air like confidential snowflakes, launched skyward by the force of the explosion that rocked your apartment and the shops below.

@mamacitapascal @obsessivelysearching

[bbdaydreams]

Courage My Love// Semi Eita

Pairing: Semi Eita x Reader

Summary: You like Semi and come up with a plan to confess to him, unfortunately it takes a turn. You meet again a couple years later by chance.

Chapter three: That’s What You Get

Series Masterlist•<previous•next>

—————

After explaining to his friends what he had just witnessed, Semi excused himself to get some water before he blew up. Semi knew how he could be when he became overwhelmed with his thoughts. He could bark and bite hard with whatever words came out of his mouth if he didn’t think rationally enough. But it’s not easy to suppress actions when trying to figure out your emotions.

“Hi, Semi,” you spoke in shock, not expecting to see him when he opened the door you were about to push.

“Hey,” he responded plainly.

“I have good news I wanted to share with-“

“I know, you and Tendou are together. Congrats,” Semi cut you off, walking past you and into the room full of people.

All you could do was watch his figure disappear into the crowd as you stood disappointed. “I was gonna tell you about my band,” you mumbled to no one before stepping out to get some water since you didn’t trust the punch bowl. When you came back inside you spent the majority of the time left with your new friends and gave them the news first instead. They were just as excited as you where when you first found out.

“We have some good news too!” Haruka spoke.

“We think we came up with the music to go along with one of the songs,” Yui said.

“Let’s put it together this weekend!” Izumi finished.

-

The following school day you decided to stop by some of your old teachers rooms in between classes and say your goodbye and thanks to them since it was the last week of school for the third years. While passing by the first years side of the building, you saw Goshiki and decided to greet him since you rarely had the opportunity to see him. “Goshiki, hi,” you smiled at him which resulted in him widening his eyes and stiffening when he realized you were in front of him.

“I- uh, hello y/n. I have to really go now you see and I uh... bye!” he exclaimed before gripping his bag and scurrying off.

“That’s odd,” you thought to yourself. In the times you’ve spoken to Goshiki he was always very interested in your conversations and got disappointed when either of you had to end it. He wasn’t even making eye contact with you throughout the whole thing. If anything, it seemed like he was terrified of you.

The next day you passed by the second year’s side. You were about to put your hand on the handle but before you could, the door was pushed from the other side. “Ow!” you exclaimed while rubbing the side of your head since the metal door hit you unexpectedly.

“Y/n! I’m so sorry!” Jiro exclaimed before using one hand to hold your shoulder and the other to help you soothe the pain. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly, not really. That hurt pretty bad, Jiro,” you told him with tears brimming your eyes. Guilt filled his heterochromatic eyes as he helped you. As he was apologizing for his actions he felt a glare on him. Looking up and past you, he saw his band leader with his eyes locked on him as he walked past with Ranmaru and Subaru. Tensing up, Jiro immediately excused himself from you and ran over to his band mates but you were too engrossed with the pain to notice who he ran off to.

That’s the second time someone you thought you were friends with completely brushed you off and it hurt. You weren’t the closest with them but at the end of the day it’s not fun being treated like a passerby. Could you be overthinking which made your emotions overreact? Maybe, but you didn’t wanna have your last possible interaction with anyone to be like that. You have a week left, who knows if you’ll see anyone again after graduating.

Deciding to skip visiting your second year teachers because of the pain you were in, you went to the practice room instead. When you arrived you could hear the girls voices as well as a males that sounded familiar.

“Shirabu? Why are you here?”

“Y/n, hey- what happened to your face?” Shirabu asked before putting down his bag when he noticed you holding onto your face. “Let me see, please.” You put your hands down and let him carefully examine your face. “Scale of one to ten, how bad does this hurt?”

“Six? It was a twelve when it first happened,” you responded, wincing when he gently touched your cheek and brow bone.

“Well good news, it’s nothing too bad, just a little bruised,” he stated turning to pick up his belongings. “I came here to talk with Haruka about some homework before heading to practice.”

“Y/n, what happened?” Haruka asked with her arms open to give you a hug. Yui and Izumi were there as well and walked over to place a hand on your shoulder for comfort.

“I went to go open a door to get into the second years building and Jiro got to it before I did so it accidentally hit me.”

“Did he at least apologize?” Izumi asked while rubbing your back.

“Yeah but then he ran off. We were just fine and then it was like he saw a ghost or something.”

“Stupid, Semi,” Shirabu muttered.

“What’s he got to do with it, bowl-cut?” Yui asked.

Shirabu ignored her insult and turned to you. “Semi told us to stop talking to you this morning at practice so we don’t mention anything about you to him. Since Jiro acted that way I assume he also told whoever else is in his band.”

You were speechless. You knew Semi like the back of your hand, something like this seems so out of character for him. “Are you being serious?” You weren’t close with Shirabu. You really just knew him as a brat because that’s what Semi would refer to him as so it’s not like you could fully trust him. But at the same time you couldn’t picture him as a liar.

“It’s true.”

Without any reason holding you back, you dropped your bag and turned to sprint to the room you knew your former friend would be in. The girls and Shirabu startled by your actions ran after you as well.

“Y/n, wait up!” Izumi yelled after you but it was no use, you just kept going.

“Where are you going?” Haruka asked.

Shirabu being in the lead of your band members was able to pick up on the direction you were going. “The gym!” He said before breaking off with the group to take a different path.

Haruka and Izumi stopped running, confused on if they should keep following you for him. “Girls let’s go, we gotta back her up.” Yui spoke as she passed the two.

“Right!” They responded before picking up the pace again in an attempt to catch up to you.

In all honesty you had no clue what you were gonna do when you saw him. You just know you wanted to give him a piece of your mind even if it meant disrupting the volleyball team’s practice. Right now, all you could see was red. You had no clue why he would do something like that and what his issue with you was for him to do something like this to you. You’ve never felt a rage towards him until now.

“Gotcha!” Shirabu announced when he finally caught up to you right outside of the gym. He wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight.

“Get me go!” You yelled while squirming to get out of his grip.

“Y/n!” Izumi called out when they reached you.

“Shirabu, let me go!”

“No!”

“What is going on?” Ushijima asked when he opened gym doors, confused by the scene in front of him.

“Where the hell is he?” You asked.

“What are you doing here?” Semi asked as he approached the scene after hearing your voice.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You asked the former setter while the current one held your arms back.

“Don’t touch her, let her go,” Semi warned the second year before turning back to you. In Shirabu fashion, he complied but held his glare. “What do you mean what’s my fucking problem?”

“Why would you tell people to stop talking to me? I thought we could talk about our problems instead of doing stupid petty shit like this.”

“Then why the hell are you causing a scene in front of so many people instead of coming to me in private? Explain that?” Semi asked, tone getting louder with each word.

“You started it first! It’s one thing to keep our business between us but when you bring other people into it that’s just messed up!”

The more your volume increased, the more his patience was wearing thin. “Can you shut the fuck up and come talk about this after practice? You’re being such a bitch right now!”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I ever fell for someone like you. You’re such an asshole Semi, ya know that?”

Semi froze at your confession but couldn’t let his pride lose. “Is that why you’re dating one of my best friends now, huh? You’re the one who started this mess.”

Now you’ve had enough. Without warning, you charged at him only to be stopped by your boyfriend. “Alrighty, I’ll take this. Time to go,” Tendou spoke as he threw you over his shoulder. “I’m skipping practice Wakatoshi! Tell the juniors I’ll see them tomorrow morning! Ladies, I’ll take care of her,” he spoke while walking away from the group to take you to your dorm.

Leaving the group dumbfounded all you could do was fall limp as Tendou carried you. Letting silent tears fall down your face, you looked at the ground.

“You can’t just go starting fights, ya know?” Tendou spoke softly.

“I know,” you mumbled. You sounded so broken. Semi and you were done. There’s no going back. Your friendship was completely destroyed after that fight and it didn’t help that you even let your true feelings slip. “I’m sorry I told him I liked him even though I’m with you.”

“It’s okay. I know you were heated in the moment. What he said also pissed me off a little. Can you unlock your door?” He told you as he placed you down. You turned to unlock the door and made your way to your bed as Tendou followed you. He pulled back the blanket and let you go in first before he joined you. Tendou laid on his side as you did the same, facing each other. “Wanna talk about it?” He asked while rubbing your back.

“No,” you told him, exhausted from the screaming match and the burn along your throat from it. “I hate yelling,” you told him as you buried your face into his neck.

“I know. Me too. Can I asked what happened to your face? I see you got a boo boo,” Tendou cooed, trying to make you laugh to which he succeeded.

“I got a door to the face.”

“That sounds like fun! I should get hit by one too so we match.”

The rest of the afternoon, Tendou spent it comforting you.

-

Semi spent it getting yelled at my Ranmaru and Subaru for being mean to you after Jiro told them about the door incident and the new school gossip.

“You goddamn idiot!” Subaru barked as he gripped Semi’s shirt collar.

“Why did you think that was a good idea?!” Ranmaru joined in on the scolding.

Semi just stood taking the heat from his band mates. He was tired and had his mind cloudy from your argument.

“Are you gonna fucking speak up or what?”

“I don’t know...” he mumbled.

“What?”

“I said I don’t know why! Now get the hell off me!” Semi yelled as he gripped Subaru’s wrist and yanked it off of him. Semi looked into his school mates eyes before looking at Jiro who was sitting on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest. “It’s not my fault he hit her in the face with a door,” Semi spat, making the underclass man raise his head.

Jiro furrowed his eyebrows before opening his mouth but Ranmaru wasn’t having it. “Don’t put the blame on him when you’re the one that threatened him. Apologize to him.”

“No. Why the hell would I? It’s his fault.”

Subaru and Ranmaru were about to grab Semi again but stopped when hearing the raven haired boy speak up. “I’m not the one that didn’t have the balls to tell them how they felt! She loved you, Semi! You’re the one that was too blind to notice and then decided to go off with some other girl instead of confessing to Y/n! You told us about how you were feeling and we told you what it was! We all know you liked her, the whole school knew! Even your date which is why she broke up with you at the dance! You were just too late to realize and now you’ve lost her. You have no one to blame but yourself for not talking to her earlier. That’s what you get!”

Jiro’s outburst left the older three boys stunned. They never would’ve expected him to speak up like he just did but that’s when they collectively agreed that they need to calm down.

“I’m sorry for yelling in your home, Ranmaru,” Jiro said while bowing his head in the process.

“Lift your head up, it’s okay. I’m sorry for yelling too.”

“Me three,” Subaru added on. They all looked at their leader, waiting for him to speak up.

“I’m sorry. Jiro, you’re right. I shouldn’t have directed my anger towards you when I’m just upset with myself. I am sincerely sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jiro smiled. Semi smiled back and jumped on the couch next to him only to put his arm around him and use his other hand to mess with his hair. The guys laughed a bit with each other. Things felt the way they should.

“C’mon you guys, we’re at my parents place for practice and we have to head back to the dorms soon. Let’s play a couple songs,” Ranmaru stated.

-

The remainder of the week you and the girls spent it at the studio the record label provided so you could record your demo.

Semi spent it trying to find you to apologize directly. He knew your school schedule but you weren’t at any the locations you were supposed to be. He’s tried visiting your dorm, but you were never there and couldn’t come in the evening because of practice and the other things he had to finish up before graduating and everyone in the hallways would give him a glare. He even tried asking Shirabu about the practice room but he wouldn’t budge in giving out the information he knew.

“C’mon, pick up, pick up-“

“I’m sorry but the person you are trying to call is not available. At the tone, please leave a message or try calling again later.”

“No ring... that means... I’ve been blocked?”

—————

a/n: for a semi fic this whole chapter is very anti semi

taglist: @pluviophilefangirl @yourstarvic @sunaswife

[shih-coulda-had-it]

37. NanaHiko, please

37. “Because I love you goddammit!”

Consider this my sourdough starter for a Nanahiko Die Hard AU. If it ever comes into a fully-realized oneshot spectacular, well. Maybe for Christmas. Anyways, this is, believe or not, a break-up scene.

//

Fighting with Sorahiko is never pretty.

To clarify, Nana doesn’t mean physical fighting. They’ve honed that particular aspect of their partnership to near-perfection (always room for improvement), and when Nana has extricated herself from a fight, sometimes she has enough time to watch Sorahiko work his brutally efficient magic on loose ends.

That kind of fighting is pretty from a professional point of view.

Anyway, what Nana means is—having an argument with Sorahiko. It’s not the first time they’ve engaged in a war of cold shoulders and barbed words, digging up old insults and humiliating stories, resolved to leave reconciliation to the other party.

Nana has always thought it boded well that it never took a mortal injury to get either her or Sorahiko to apologize. 

She is, however, very close to inflicting a mortal injury.

Sorahiko also looks close to committing partner-cide. They are spending a break from patrol by cooling their heels on a rooftop no employee bothers to spend a cigarette break at, and for the past ten minutes, have been politely exchanging words like, “Please do this,” and, “Fuck doing that.”

A full month has passed since Nana digested the whole conspiracy theory about a supervillain controlling Japan’s underground. En’s transferral of One for All had been traumatic for all parties involved, even if Sorahiko didn’t have to witness the horror that was the shoulder socket gushing blood and the half-buried body. Why? Because the first time Nana tested out her new Quirk, she had broken her notoriously hardy partner’s arm.

… It’s been a scary month all around.

“I’m not,” her partner grits out, “going to just quit being a pro-hero.”

“I didn’t say you should ditch the license,” Nana says reasonably.

“You might as well have!”

She rolls her eyes. “Splitting up for a solo career would probably mean better pay for you,” she reiterates. “Better pay, more taiyaki. You’d be a treat by yourself, Gran Torino. Any high-profile agency would want you on the payroll.”

“The salary isn’t the point,” Sorahiko snaps. 

“And you shouldn’t conflate your position as a pro-hero with your position at the Eyrie! Don’t let the agency limit your ambitions!”

“What ambitions?”

“You know,” says Nana, gesturing aimlessly. She’s trapped herself with that useless encouragement. Sorahiko is so thoroughly unambitious, he would let a pet rock win an election to Prime Minister. “Whatever made you get into heroics.”

He stares at her.

“Get out there,” she adds. “Chase your dreams.”

“You’re being stupid,” he says.

“Don’t start.”

Sorahiko starts. His mouth twists into a snarl, eyebrows drawing together under the mask, frustration creeping into his posture. He is madder than she’s ever seen him, and Nana once witnessed Sorahiko yell bloody murder at his landlord. The landlord had been reduced to tears, and furthermore, had reduced the rent for the entire complex.

Nana does not intend to yield.

“First you inherit a transferable strength Quirk that knocks you out of commission for a week,” he says, “then you get all weird about tanking hits you know I can take, and now you’re advising I leave the Eyrie by myself? For my own good?”

“Yes,” she says, already feeling miserable.

“Are you on some kind of power trip?”

“No!”

His gloved hands curl into fists, mirroring Nana’s, or maybe she is mirroring him. Another side-effect of being friends for so long; she can’t imagine what kind of pro-hero she is without Gran Torino next to her. 

A pro-hero that won’t drag their best friend into the worst conspiracy theory to come true. 

“I won’t quit until you do,” Sorahiko swears. “Are we partners or not?”

“Partnerships dissolve.”

He flinches back for once. “You don’t mean that.”

“People sometimes grow in different ways. It doesn’t mean they’re abandoning their partner, it’s just… You don’t have any obligation to hold my hand for my entire career. If there’s a roadblock ahead, and you see it, you should be able to jump out of the car, right?” 

“Shimura. Shut up.”

“I really mean it,” Nana continues doggedly. “One for All attracts way more attention than we agreed we should aim for, so if we split paths now, you don’t have to suffer all the cameras tracking and recording your moveset. Did I say cameras? I meant henchmen of some evil bastard. You didn’t sign up for this.”

“Don’t tell me what I did or didn’t sign up for,” he hisses.

“Well, I have to guess,” she says, “considering I never saw your origin story, haha!”

His face goes a blotchy pink, starting with his ears. Sorahiko’s jaw visibly clenches. Nana, however, is one-hundred percent serious. Despite being friends with Sorahiko from primary school up till now (excusing the few years of junior high), Nana still has no idea what drives Sorahiko to be Gran Torino.

Reuniting in Class 1-A of U.A. High had felt a bit like fate. 

“You have to guess?” he grits out, sounding slightly incredulous.

“You’re a very private person. Ah, don’t tell me I’ve somehow forgot it.” Nana puts her hands at her hips, trying to drag this fight back into friendly banter. “Not for the applause. Not for the legacy, assuming the Commission ever gets their memorial site set up. Are you sure it wasn’t for the money?”

“Shimura.”

“C’mon,” she says coaxingly. “What’s the dream-goal, Gran Torino? Why heroics?”

“Shimura.”

“Don’t worry about harming my feelings! Oh! It’s for your namesake, huh? Ah, Sorahiko, you really gotta let that one go, I don’t think you’d have any fun driving around these streets. You’ll just scare all the pedestrians into throwing tomatoes at your precious baby—”

“Because I love you goddammit!” Sorahiko shouts, barking it loud enough to frighten some voyeuristic pigeons. 

“What,” Nana says. She has to process his words even though they ring in her ears. His confession is a curse. Typical Sorahiko, Nana thinks hysterically, except this is not typical at all. Torino Sorahiko, admitting to love? 

Torino Sorahiko, not being done yet, rails on. “Because you’re my best friend, and I like myself when I’m with you, so stop trying to cut me out of your life! If you—if you hate me, then just say it! Say I’m annoying! Clingy! Useless! Don’t just tell me to step out the front door and leave you behind!”

Oh, he’s properly mad now.

Thing is, Nana’s mad too.

“Don’t you use that against me,�� she says, fury seeping in, because how dare he? Like confessing to loving her settles this argument, some deus ex-machina device that will defuse Nana’s very sincere attempt to prevent Sorahiko from being murdered. She can’t believe the nerve of her partner, trying to manipulate the part of her that’s a hopeless romantic. “Don’t lie.”

“Lie?” Sorahiko echoes, enraged. “You think—?”

“I think you would do a lot of things to win a fight,” Nana seethes.

“You’re impossible.”

She wants to punch his stupid face so badly, but Sorahiko’s hands are already scrabbling at his domino mask, ripping it off. After blinking several times to reorient his senses, he refocuses his glare at her.

“What part of that confession sounded fake?” he demands, crumpling the black silk-composite in one fist.

“The timing. The whole concept. Everything!”

“You don’t think I’m capable of it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Nana objects, but her immediate gut reaction had been to say, I’m not worthy of it. She has a name for Gran Torino’s behavior now—his loyalty, devotion, affection—he tied himself to her so long ago, and Nana never even knew she was holding a leash. How unfair to him, how stupid and shortsighted of her.

Sorahiko takes a step into Nana’s personal bubble. He persists. “Say you hate me.”

She can see where Sorahiko wants to take this.

“Do you hate me, Shimura?”

Nana bites her tongue from its reflexive denial; when she tries to lie, it sticks in her throat.

“Do you really want me to go?” Sorahiko asks, and without his mask, he looks vulnerable. Pale brown eyes catching the sunset, gleaming gold. How much of Sorahiko’s life has been deferring his dreams to follow hers? What has he given up that Nana’s never asked about? Does he have any commitments outside of heroics? 

“I think,” Nana finally forces out, “we need some time apart.”

One beat of silence. Two.

“You’re not joking.”

“No.”

Sorahiko breathes, a steady and barely audible sound, and Nana finds herself mirroring it. She crosses her arms and looks to the horizon. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sorahiko slowly uncrumpling his mask, smoothing out wrinkles with his forefinger and thumb. Methodical for a nervous tic.

“It’s not that you’ve done something wrong.”

“Spare me the bullshit,” he says. The bitter tone sends a chill through Nana’s heart, but she steels herself. “How long?”

“Long as we need,” she deflects.

“What’s the goal here?”

Nana glances at Gran Torino, notes the grim set of his expression, and restrains herself from poking at the down-turned twist to his frown. Instead, she says, “You said you like who you are when you’re with me. I don’t think you’ve ever really been without me, so… Figure yourself out, Gran Torino.”

“And Sky High?”

“We’ll shelve the idea for a later time,” says Nana weakly, as though running an agency together hasn’t been their—her?—dream since high school.

He grunts in acknowledgment.

Together, they survey the cityscape. They will finish the day’s patrol. Gran Torino will, for the first time, clock out early and storm home.

And Nana will quietly file her two-week notice.

There’s an international pro-hero exchange program being organized with the United States, and Nana intends to join. The probation period is a year; if Nana can make it through that, then she can apply to be a mentor to aspiring pro-heroes, all the while cultivating One for All on the side.

(She doesn’t mean to forget the confession. But then again, who knows if that’s really what Sorahiko felt for her?)

[reneesi]

i never would have thought // CH.01

CH.01 II a bit of a predicament

WRITTEN PORTION

A/N: Just for clarification the Written Portion is just extra content. If you don’t feel like reading and are only here for the SM crack the WP can always be skipped since it is additional content that is not vital for following along with the story. Anyways, enjoy :)!

(Y/n)’s breath caught, watching in quiet agony as her phone screen flickered off which indicated the end of her device’s battery. The warm summer air enveloped her in a state of weary comfort as (Y/n) sighed, looking up at the lightly clouded night sky. The stars shone in bright patches of half constellations, and in an attempt to gather her bearings (Y/n) had come to a halt and began to study the night sky. She cursed inwardly as she began to walk once more, finally realizing that maybe she should have taken Shoyo’s help, but also noting that it was a little late for such things as her phone was now dead and she was still very very lost.

Coming to another four way intersection (Y/n) shrugged and took a right, deciding that if it turned out to be another dead end she would simply lay down on the concrete and pass away quietly. Slowly, (Y/n) made her way through the narrow street keeping alert while also stifling her paranoia in an effort to stay calm. This however didn’t last, since as soon as the tall wall of neat white bricks came into view (Y/n) had no choice but to let lout a loud, exasperated groan. Dragging her feet in disappointment, she walked up to the cursed Wall of Shame and pressed her forehead into its hardened surface, staring down at the ground beneath her.

“What am i gonna do..” She mumbled, the dread of facing the team after this embarrassing little adventure of “individuality” and “freedom” filling her chest. I mean sure it’s not like they were gonna yell at her, hell she’d be surprised if anyone even reprimanded her given that they generally just tried protecting her for the most part but still. (Y/n) had still gotten lost, she was still irresponsible, irrational and now if she tried to explain how her so desired independence was well deserved no one was going to believe her... Given that she couldn’t even be trusted to walk herself from point a to point b. In her defense she was new to the area but not that new if she was being honest and-

“Boo.”

(Y/n) screamed. And not just a little scream, more of a “I’m about to be killed by an ax murderer with a bloody mask” kind of scream. In other words she almost peed herself. Turning with a clumsy thrash, (Y/n) pushed whatever the fuck had just placed a hand on her shoulder away, pressing her back against the cursed Wall of Shame and thankfully placing a couple feet between herself and the attacker.

Clutching onto her bravery, (Y/n) opened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the darkness of the alleyway that had previously been behind her. She hadn’t noticed before but due to the buildings and houses the moonlight was only able to shine down at the end of the alleyway and onto the cursed Wall of Shame, somehow managing to avoid the rest of the creepy path leading to its end where she now stood. She raised her fists as if to fight.

“Who’s there? What do you want?” She barked, squinting at the tall figure that was slowly coming into focus...

“T..TsukISHIMA?” She screamed, not as loud as the first time but loud none the less. Said Tsukishima stepped forward coming into the light with a shit eating grin spread from ear to ear. He looked down at the horrified and confused (Y/n) and did the only thing Tsukishima would do after scaring the shit out of Hinata Shoyo’s cousin, he burst into a fit of laughter.

(Y/n)’s expression fell as the realization that she had just gotten “pranked” by Tsukishima set in. She scowled up at him, throwing a punch at his arm as she pushed her way past him.

“You are such an aSSHOLE, Tsukishima!” (Y/n) growled, continuing her tread forward. She could hear Tsukishima‘s laughter die down into silence as he followed her out of the alley way, keeping his distance at least two feet behind.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to walk alone at night?” He asked, sounding almost annoyed. (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

“For your information i’m pretty sure i’m old enough to walk by myself. At ANY time of day.”

“Why do you have to be stubborn all the time?” Tsukishima sighed, boredom seeping through his words

“How can you even say that, it’s not like you’ve ever talked to me long enough to know that about me.” (Y/n) turned her head, throwing back a glare. Tsukishima only shrugged in response

“Dunno, it’s just pretty easy to tell.”

“Whatever... Why are you still following me?” (Y/n) stopped, turning to face Tsukishima.

“Because your phone is dead and you have no idea where you are...” Tsukishima’s eyes stayed glued to the sky as he spoke, head leaned back into his palms which where being held up behind his head in a sort of laid back stretch. “And also because if i show up to dinner without you Daichi might actually kill me.”

Tsukishima made brief eye contact as he delivered his final sentence, catching (Y/n) off guard as she’d been unknowingly staring up at him the entire time he’d been speaking. Both teens quickly looked away, matching hues of red and pink barley coating their cheeks.

(Y/n) considered denying his offer, thinking of the dignity she had yet to sacrifice. Maybe she was close? And maybe if she just kept going a little longer she’d still be able to make it on her own! (Y/n) looked around again, trying to pick up something remotely familiar, but failed.. for the hundredth time that night.

“Fine. I’ll let you lead the way..” (Y/n) mumbled, crossing her arms across her chest “But only if you promise not to tell them how ABSOLUTELY lost i was.”

Tsukishima had already turned and was walking the same way they’d come, hands now shoved into his pockets. He paused, still looking ahead.

“I’ll think about it.” (Y/n) couldn’t see his smirk, but goddamn it she knew it was there

“God, can’t you just do one nice thing for me one time!”

“And why would i do that?”

Because i’m asking you to!”

“Only if you say pretty please.”

“Are you fucKING KIDDIN-“

“Don’t be so loud, we’re in a neighborhood and people are trying to sleep.” Taukishima yawned, taking a right with the same calm easy steps.

“I’m already embarrassed enough..” (Y/n) growled “i don’t want EVERYONE thinking i’m incapable of taking care of myself.”

“No one thinks that, we just worry because...” Tsukishima paused. Had she heard him right? Did (Y/n) really just hear tHE Tsukishima Kei, the boy who never had even bothered to say a simple hello or pay her a moments glance just say he worried about HER? Had he been paying attention this whole time? I mean sure he liked to pick on her and mess with her from time to time but that was just his nature, it’s not like they’d shared a single moment of friendliness during the 3 months that (Y/n) had been at Karasuno..

“They care about you.” Tsukishima finished, clearing his throat. (Y/n) stared at the back of his head unsure what to make of the (maybe?) friendly words he’d shared, and even more confused by the sinking feeling of disappointment plaguing her stomach. Tsukishima had said “they” cared for her, himself not included.

The restaurants light gleamed in the distance, signaling the end of (Y/n)’s first, and so far only, one on one conversation with Tsukishima and somehow, she was disappointed. It’s not like she actually hated him, and sure maybe they didn’t particularly get along but (Y/n) still wanted to be friends. Maybe not best friends but being rejected by the people closest to her had definitely left an endless hole that craved the approval of everyone she met. Unfortunately, Tsukishima was no exception. (Y/n)’s gaze had fallen to her feet, and as she recounted the last 15 minutes the shame only deepened her stare.

“Sorry for getting so aggressive, i was just mad at myself for getting lost and defensive and i shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” (Y/n) muttered, keeping her voice low as to maintain a steady tone.

Tsukishima stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden apology, but he didn’t reply. At least not right away. The two walked for another couple minutes, heavy silence wedging itself into the already existing physical gap that separated the two. But, once they finally reached the entrance of the restaurant that space evaporated as (Y/n) caught up, moving to stand behind Tsukishima who was blocking the door. He had paused, hesitating to walk inside.

“I’ll keep your secret.” Tsukishima finally said, tone stiff and unfamiliar. With that he ducked inside, followed by a somewhat surprised somewhat relived (Y/n). Both were met by a sea of screaming team mates, but only (Y/n) was tackled. Nishinoya and Tanaka clung to her on either side blubbering on about how worried they’d been for their “baby girl.”

(Y/n) giggled

“Guys guys come one, it’s not like i almost died.”

“YoU ALMOST DIED?!!” Hinata Shoyo, who had just returned from the restroom, stood only a couple feet away gaping at his cousin.

“God this is why i CaNT TRUST YOU TO BE BY YOURSELF! SuGAWARA TELL (Y/N) sHEs gRoUNDED FOR A MONTH!” Shoyo screamed, shaking Sugawara by the shoulders

“Hey that’s not fair!” (Y/n) argued, prying herself from the clutches of her upperclassmen and approaching the table. She took her seat and continued to argue, yelling across the table and recounting the last  hour or so with a couple of fudged details. Within minutes her team mates had joined along and were pulled into a full blown discussion over the validity of (Y/n)’s story, laughing along as the Hinata’s pulled at either side of Suga, begging him to take a side. After some time the conversation shifted to the upcoming training camp and exited chatter filled the air as the team recounted old memories and cracked a couple jokes. (Y/n) smiled, looking around the table and suddenly remembered Tsukishima’s kind gesture. She glanced over at him, and caught him mid chuckle as he watched Hinata tell one of his loud sound effect stories. Her heart surged, finally after all this time (Y/n) was starting to feel like maybe she could actually belong.

previous I next

MASTERLIST

[galaxyedging]

I played around with some tropes. Blood, injury, canon type violence, hints of smut, fluff. It's not as exciting as the warnings suggest, I just can't do that 'keep reading' this so I thought I'd better warn people.

Unspoken

"Really?" she whined. After a ridiculously long couple of days, chasing the luckiest quarry in the parsec they had finally decided to take a break. All she wanted to do was clean up and get a good night's sleep before they headed out to find the bastard quarry that had escaped off world. As she shrugged off her backpack her shoulders fell with exhaustion and defeat as she eyed the lone bed in the room. "Do you want to get cleaned up first?" Mando asked over his shoulder. The first thing he had done upon entering the room was place his weapons on the small wooden table in the corner of the room. Now he sat cleaning the fine dust, that coated this whole damn planet, off of them. Too tired to even broach the sleeping situation yet, she dragged her feet into the fresher. Thankfully, this planet was only dusty as hell a few months of the year. The rest of the time it rained heavily so water was bountiful. She took her time to wash throughly. Listening out for Mando in the other room she could her him still moving his weapons about so she figured he wasn't in a rush to get in there. Only when she heard someone at the door did she get out from underneath the soothing water. "Who was that?" she asked emerging from the fresher, dabbing at her wet hair with a towel.

"The maid." he tipped his helmet towards a pile of extra pillows and blankets on the bed. Before she could even try to discuss the whole one bed thing, he picked up one of the spare blankets and shook it out. Continuing his movement he lay it on the floor before throwing a couple of pillows on top of it. "Damn dust!" He growled brushing some out from under his vembrace. "Am going to get cleaned up. The bed looks warm enough but I know you're always cold so there's a spare blanket there. If you want to sleep now, you can switch the lamp off, I won't need it."

As he turned to step through the door she realized what he had planned. "You're going to sleep on the floor?"

"Yeah, I didn't think it would appeal to you." she could hear the mirth in his tone as turned back to her, body halfway into the other room. If she had to, she could, and would, sleep in the hardest, most inconvenient places but given the choice she would be wrapped in comfort 24/7.

"Hey!" she chided "I could sleep on the floor!" Even without seeing his face she just knew he had a shit eating grin for occasions like this. Just imagining it made her want to punch him. "We could always share? It's a fairly big bed. It would save you sleeping on the floor."

He paused for moment. "Thank you for the offer but I'll be fine. I've slept in worse places." Another pause. "Plus it's too dangerous for me to take my armour off here. It wouldn't be very comfortable for you to sleep beside...Princess." He quickly managed to duck into the fresher. Shutting the door behind him the wood bore the brunt of her annoyance at his 'Princess' jab.

The next morning she woke up rested. Mando was already up and out. The extra blankets and pillows were neat stacked on the table. All except one, that had somehow found it's way over her in the night.

"You're ok. I've got you." Mando gently rolled his arms out from underneath her as he placed her down on the cot. A coughing fit racked her. The white pillow underneath her became splattered with blood as she fought to clear her throat. He passed her a small metal dish. The same one she use to collect any shrapnel she removed while patching him up. "Spit." he ordered before giving her a sip of water. "Easy, not too much." Once the coughing stopped and he was happy that she could stay still enough, he got to work. The cut to her side was deep, there was bruising. The blood she was coughing up was likely due to her ribs being broken in the impact of that bastard landing on top of her and driving his blade in. Mando was thankful that there was nothing that couldn't be fixed with what supplies they had on the ship and a lot of rest. As he treated her, his thoughts wandered to the quarry that had managed to get the drop on them. It was another case of massive good luck on his part. Mando looked forward to the day his luck would run out. Within a week she was on her feet again. Within two she had, with incredible skill, tracked down the quarry. The bastard now stood in front of Mando taunting him. His luck had held and he'd managed to find another fox hole of criminals to hide in. Mando had taken them all out but not without taking a beating. He'd lost his blaster, his blades, he was the only weapon he had left.

"I thought you'd find me sooner. I was disappointed. I heard so much about the relentless, legendary bounty hunter. Not to mention the fact that I cut up your bitch. I thought you'd be seething and baying for my blood after what I did to her." the bastard spat gleefully.

Mando, who had had his hands up, braced for a fight, dropped back down at his sides. "Why would I be baying for blood? It wasn't me you hurt. 'My bitch' is more than capable of killing you herself." he tipped his head up towards where he had seen the sun glint off her rifle. The bastard just had enough time to turn and widen his eyes in panic as she took him out with a single shot between his eyes. Mando winced at the pain in his side as he sighed in relief. "Am your what now?" her voice came over the comm. "Would you prefer my princess?" He quipped before heading off to retrieve his weapons.

The sound of Baskar crashing to the floor jerked her from her sleep. Once she made sure the kid was ok she quickly slide out of the cubby to investigate the sound. She expected to see a pile of armour on the floor. Din had ripped it off and dumped it on the floor one or twice in frustration. It terrified her when she saw that Din was currently in the pile of armour on the floor. Crossing the distance in seconds she dropped to the floor near him. "No!" he barked at her. Din had a temper, they both did, but he never shouted at her like that. His voice was rougher, strained. He groaned as he clutched his stomach and rolled his body from being on all fours to sitting on his heels, helmet pressed to the floor.

As her terror rose higher, she hoped it didn't show in her voice. "Din? Are you hurt? What do you need?"

"You..." he gritted out "...you need to stay back."

"But what...?" she reached towards him slightly and he withdrew as if she had burned him.

"Toxin...a flower. The thorns cut my arm." his chest heaved rapidly up and down.

"You've been poisoned?!" she wanted to reach for him again but thought better of it.

"Not really. It hurts..." he groaned. Or was that a moan? "...but it won't kill me. Just need to ride it out...you should put me in carbonite." He began to take off pieces of his armour. His pauldrons came off first.

"Carbonite? Really? Is that really better than this? We have meds that can kill the pain." she watched as he struggled to his feet and stumbled towards the carbonite, dropping more armour.

"Won't work...have to protect you." he continued on his way across the ship. His breastplate hit the floor next.

"Protect me?" she was following behind him now. He had his back to her setting up the mobile carbonite unit. "Din? These units have a 60% chance of killing you! Why do you have to protect me? Tell me what's going on?!" she half demanded, half pleaded.

Hissing he turned and propped himself up against the wall. "The toxin helps aid reproduction. It makes people want to f...fornicate so badly that if hurts if they don't. Some strains are lethal...this isn't. It just hurts and I want..." his hand came up to touch her cheek.

She closed her eyes and breathed "If you need to we could..." she trailed off not able to finish it out loud. It wasn't how she thought it would happen but she couldn't deny that she wanted Din.

Snapping his hand back he shuffled away. "No! You deserve better. When we...it won't be like this. Please."

The desperation in his tone broke her. By now he only had his flight suit and helmet on. "Fine." she whispered "You'll need to take your helmet off. I won't look. In fact you better step into the chamber facing away from me so I don't see your face when you're frozen."

Nodding his understanding, he turned around. As his helmet came off, exposing his hair, she took a second to admire his soft, brown, curls. Before smashing a metal pipe into his head.

32 hours later Din woke up in his cubby with a banging headache. On the shelf next to his head was a bottle of water. Lifting his helmet, he guzzle it down gratefully. Replacing the helmet he crawled out to find her. Following the sound of the kid gurgling, he found her in the cockpit. "How are you feeling?" she asked with a smile.

That smile instantly made him relax. He was worried he did something wrong while he poisoned. "Ok. Thank you. What..er..what happened?" he tried to seem nonchalant as he lower himself in his chair.

"What's the last thing you remember?" she bounced the baby on her knee as she spoke. Much to the little one's delight.

"I was about to step into the carbonite. Then just sort of hazy dreams." he reached forward to stroke the kids head. This earned a happy squeal.

Her smile grew. "Well, when you turned your back, I knocked you out cold. I put your helmet back on. When you started to come to I knocked you back out with some meds. The second time you woke up you said you needed to pee. I walked you to the fresher. You insisted on singing to me, in what I think was Mando'a, the entire time. I gave you more meds. The next pee break included you trying to dance with me and swing me in circles. More meds and here we are."

Din was incredibly grateful that he had Baskar covering his face or she would have seen how red his cheeks were. Singing and dancing were reserved for Mandalorian celebrations, like the wedding he had been dreaming about. The one that would allow him to show her his face. "Am sorry."

"You don't need to apologise Din." she swiftly cut him off. "You were trying to protect me. Willing to risk hurting yourself, or worse, out of respect for me. Thank you." she gave the hand that had been stroking the child's fuzzy, green head a squeeze before handing Din the kid and headed down to make breakfast.

"Did you love it?!" Peli exclaimed as the woman made her way into the office. It took her a moment to realise Peli was talking about the classic romance novel she recommended.

"It was good." Peli scrunched her face at the other woman's unenthusiastic tone and came to stand in front of her, head framed with wild curls tilted up staring the woman in the eyes. "It was a bit cliched."

"Ha!" Peli laughed heartily. "You and that tin can are a walking cliche. Travelling all over hell and gone for months as 'just friends' now you're lovers. Talk about a slow burn."

The other woman nearly choked at the 'lovers' part. It was true but she didn't know how Peli knew.

"I don't miss a trick. I see those little, tiny touches on your arms, shoulders and hands. Coming from that repressed sack of bolts, he might as well throw you down and claim you on my floor. Friends to lovers. Walking cliche." Peli chuckled.

Suddenly feeling defensive the woman spoke up. "Actually, building a friendship takes time. You have to earn trust. Build a conscious connection. I was in love with him before we built that bond. My heart fell before my head. We were never friends, always lovers, it was just unspoken."

Peli let out suppressed sob, dabbing her eyes with her sleeve. "Now that's a love story."

[fairytsuk1]

my heart weeps for you. (a)

pairing: izuku midoriya x reader

genre: angst

warning: graphic descriptions of injuries, character death

words: 3.1k

summary: please find me in my next life so I can properly tell you that I love you!

a/n: this is a long emotional one, please enjoy it :)

 Midoriya used to think that he'd only ever felt genuine sorrow in his life the day his mentor, father, and a love of his passed away.

 "I'm so proud of you, Young Midoriya...I suppose you aren't so young anymore, are you?" his hand rested atop his poofy hair, Toshinori could almost see him when he was much younger. When his embraces still had the familiar teenage gentleness behind them, he'd grown up so much, "I am proud of you. To know that you are my successor is the greatest gift you could have ever given me." 

 Midoriya had watched Toshinori take his final breaths after he proudly exhaled those three long-lasting words. He didn't cry then. Only when he was lost in the coldness of his bedsheets did his heart weep from anguish as though he had lost a part of himself. He hated the sky and the way it shone so brightly because he would never get to see All Might look up at it once more before smiling. 

 The world looked at the number one hero as a symbol of peace and that he was! He saved the day as Deku with a small pin of his former mentor near his breast, a constant reminder that he was always with him. Grief lasted what felt like forever, but every day things grew just a bit easier. Only, his biggest regret was that Toshinori Yagi had never gotten to meet you. He would have loved you. It seemed that people who had changed Izuku's life could never coexist. It was if life was trying to tell him something. 

 In the end, it's just you.

 The next time he felt genuine sorrow was on a day bright like the one before. Though the pain wasn't because of how alone he felt or how much he missed those who had passed...No, he felt the wave of sorrow overtake him the moment you'd died in his arms. Unlike last time, he wept. His heart cried out for you even when he chose not to think about it. It wept his entire life, for he was never able to find the same type of love ever again.

 "Deku! It's me, Signal, I'm sorry I'm late! The train was packed! This lady asked for help retrieving her cat, and I just couldn't say no in my hero get-up! But I am truly honored to be your sidekick. I will do my best for our newfound team!"

 You were young and bright and so colorful. Your hero outfit was a pure white and gave you this sense of innocence, but the red rings gave you a bold and courageous aura. You looked more like an angel rather than a hero. He didn't prefer the traditional cliches when it came to romance, but he couldn't help but feel shocked when suddenly things seemed brighter around him. You made things seem brighter.

"Huh?! It's no trouble at all! Really, don't worry about it! That was great for you to do, you're gonna have everyone's vote in the popularity poll if you keep it up. Ready for patrol?"

 You reached into your bag and grabbed a clunky helmet with a black shaded screen, it covered your face. Midoriya felt a frown tug his lips before scolding himself. Why are you frowning at her costume? You haven't known her well enough to be upset by how she looks! Later, he would grin in happy remembrance when he had gone to visit your grave. He hadn't frowned because he thought you were ugly, he'd frowned because he thought you were beautiful.

 You talked a lot, mostly about the latest things in pop-culture and anything to do with animals. You seemed to be really into music and saving stray dogs. You also tended to ramble about the mundane things in life like blue-spotted pigeons or plump old ladies offering homemade churros. You also ate with your helmet on, and it made you look pretty silly. He couldn't stop himself from grinning every time you turned your whole body to talk to him. You never knew what he was smiling at. 

 "Okay, watch this!" he watched you intently while sitting on the park bench, he didn't want to ask what exactly he was supposed to be seeing and had no idea if there was supposed to be anything at all.

"Um-haha! I don't see anything--"

 Neon pink. A blushing emoticon with small letters appearing under it. 

 "Signal loves Deku!"

 It was like he could hear Mina's words saying that when he blushed, he looked like a firetruck. He was sure he looked like a million firetrucks right then.

 "It's true! I'm a big fan and I've always dreamed of being near you! It's like a confession towards your senpai! Have you ever seen those types of anime? It's usually done better in the manga, but I like the romantic connotations either way. Pretty cool, right? During a stressful mission, I thought it might be better to display messages so people would know it's okay while I'm still kicking ass! Also-" 

 He laughed so sweetly that it felt like drinking honey and milk. He'd never heard of displaying messages like that, it was different! But it was a good type of different, a uniqueness that made you stand out. It was weird how he had only briefly met you once under the cherry blossom trees when it felt like he'd known you forever. He had only first seen you in your third-year school sports festival at his Alma Mater, but it felt like he'd been with you before. Your energy felt so familiar, and you felt so warm. He chalked it up to your infectious bubbly personality, but he had no idea how deep your energy truly ran.

 His sidekick Signal gave him a rush he had never felt before. You were sweet, but your quirk was terrific and incredibly powerful, you could sense civilians and give out concentrated waves of vibrations to either alert heroes or ward off villains. The two of you worked like a well-oiled machine because when he punched? You rescued. When you signaled? He arrived. When you both started? You both finished. 

 "Hey, Deku? Did you know that I love spicy pork ramen?"

"Is this your way of telling me we should get ramen?"

 "...No."

"Let's go then! I'll pay since I  am  the older one, of course," he grinned back at you, "let's get going short-stuff!"

 "I'm average!! We've been over this before you bozo!"

 It wasn't a date, it was just dinner after work. No biggie. Midoriya didn't need to fix his hair when he walked past the department stores' glass, and he didn't need to nervously look away from your eyes when you spoke with such intensity. 

 "Am I too young for you?"

 His beer sputtered out from his lips like a faucet; quickly, he began to mumble apologies as the brown liquid was wiped away from the table and his chin, "young?! What do you mean too young?!"

 "It's just as I said! I'm only nineteen and you' re-gosh-like twenty-five? No, twenty-six! Am I too young for you?"

"Hey!! I'm only twenty-three! I'm not some old geezer or a pervert or something!! ... You're just fine but...dating looks problematic, so we should just avoid it. Especially for your future career because of power dynamics and stuff."

 "Dating? I was talking about being a sidekick."

"W-What?!"

 You tossed your head back and barked out a laugh as you blatantly made fun of him, "I'm just messing with you! I meant what I said. If it's so problematic, then please wait for me!"

 It had only been six months since he'd met you under a bright blue sky with one wispy cloud floating in it. It had been only a year since he first saw you on his tablet with the most radiant smile on your face even though you'd lost to your opponent.

 It had only been six months since he had properly gotten to know you, and it was at this moment he could confidently tell himself that he loved you. Even with that clunky helmet.

"Okay, I'll wait for you. But you better not make me wait too long! Who knows what'll happen?"

 He wished he wouldn't have jinxed it.

 Red was a fantastic color on you and you knew it. It was merely coincidental that it matched his tie and the two of you looked like a couple. The whispers and comments weren't malicious, they were just curious. Who was Deku toting on his arm? Why did they look so compatible? At first, your curious eyes wandered all over the Pro-Hero Praise Party. (It has an official name, but after hearing your joyful excitement of being able to attend a "Praise Party," it just stuck.). You took it all in before glancing back at him with an open mouth of awe.

 "So, are the snacks any good?"

 Of course you were amazed. After shrugging in response to your question, Midoriya watched you quickly run off to chat with some of the girls, Uravity and Froppy. You were weird if he was going to be honest, you had this childlike excitement that followed you wherever you went but at the same time...you had a presence. It was commanding, demanding, and it called everyone to pay attention to you. You shone so brightly that it stuck to people's hearts like superglue; walking away almost made his vision go blurry because oh my god, please don't let that force be taken away from me.  

 You always came running back though. When things began to get a bit more intense with flirtatious comments or lots of alcohol, you were always there to seek comfort. With your exuberant nature came his calming one. You two fit together like two peas in a pod.

 "Izuku? I have to tell you something."

"Yeah?"

 "I...I had a good time! Thank you for bringing me as your plus one to the party!"

 He raised a brow in confusion as the two of you stood outside your apartment complex.

"Oh! I had a good time too! We should go to more, it's fun with you," was that coming on a bit too strong? Is that  creepy ?! "I--"

 Soft lips on his cheek, you had to go up a step because he was just that much taller than you. The gloss made it a bit sticky but you pulled away with a heart-shaped smile.

 "Pervert! You're blushing!"

"You're the weird one! Didn't your parents ever teach you not to fool around with older people??"

 "Psh, don't pull the 'I'm your senior' schtick!! I heard enough about it from Mr. Ground Zero!..."

 He smiled and stepped down, letting a hand squeeze your shoulder. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable with too much affection.

 "Well...Big day tomorrow, I'm going to jump right into bed!"

"Got it! Me too! See you later, and thank you. F-For the kiss."

 You grinned, your teeth nearly blinding him as you squeezed his hand before turning to go into the complex. 

 "Also, that hand move was a little weird. Just hug me next time! There!" You stuck your tongue out and hummed, "romantic advice from someone younger than you! Suck it!"

 That night, he lay in bed, wishing you were there with him. You two could lie together or watch movies or do anything, really. He just wanted to be close to you. He liked being close to you. 

 You lie curled up on your side, eyes wide as the heat from your previous action coursed through your veins. Hands lightly rubbed the frilly fabric of the pillow before you squeezed your eyelids shut. Oh, how much you wished the warmth was his and not the space heater near your bed.

 SEND DISPATCH OUT! DEKU AND SIGNAL ARE UNRESPONSIVE! NO WORD FROM INSIDE THE BUILDING, WE NEED SOMEONE TO LIFT THE PILLARS! 

 Dust and crumbled roof fell onto Midoriya's face as he coughed and took in a deep inhale, the fall must've been bad considering the next cough brought up blood. Broken ribs? For sure, he'd broken enough bones to know that the affected area had been his ribs. He was just lucky enough that his hero costume provided enough support to keep him from having anything  too  serious. Well, he supposed broken bones were still pretty serious...his mind's wandering. Focus on the task at hand.

"Signal? Are you there?" Silence. He wheezed and moved away from the dust waterfall. It was a small area and...he could see the white of your costume easily! Hey! "Y/N! Oh, why didn't you say anything…"

 The words died in his throat. Red had pooled around you and a pillar lie where your midsection would be. Your helmet had cracked, and the screen was glitching between various emoticon faces. You lie still and stiff with your hair in your face. 

 "Izuku?..."

"Don't speak! Don't do anything! I'm gonna get this pillar off of you, and then I'm going to get you some help. Can you say okay?"

 "Kay...It doesn't hurt too bad…"

 He didn't respond as he leaped over the pillar to see the damage that had been done and how easily he could lift the object. He felt like vomiting when his feet landed on the bone in your ankle. It should've hurt badly with his steel-toed shoes and all, but you made no noise. He glanced back in concern before crouching down and examining your leg.

 "You're taking so long, I'm tired…"

"...Can you...can you move your leg?"

"What do you mean? They were crushed, can't feel 'em at all."

 If he pulled on your leg, the muscle and tendons would be exposed like red string and yarn. The blood would pool out of your thigh and further stain the concrete. The pillar that came crashing down had caught you on the way down, severing your spine when it hit the ground. If he lifted this pillar, your guts would spill out, and you would bleed out, and you'd be  dead  and holy fuck there's so much blood--

 You sniffled, you had figured it out too.

 "I can't feel them, Izuku, please, where are my legs?!"

"They're...Well…"

 "It's fucking, oh my god, they're not there. Izuku, am I going to die!? I can get surgery, right? I'll be fine!" You breathed heavily and began to squirm around, "I can still be a hero! I-I'm still a sidekick! It's fine, right?!"

"Please stop moving…" The chip in his ear buzzed loudly though all he could feel and hear was static. He felt paralyzed, what could he do? His favorite girl lies in two pieces because a building happened to collapse, "I'm coming back over there."

 You'd begun to cry in earnest, fat tears rolled down your cheeks as your arms beat down on the pillar.

 "Stop! I'm fine! Deku! Just pull this fucking thing off of me! I'm  fine !" You screamed out in fear, "Please!"

 He knelt down and cradled your head with his arms, he smelled like sweat and the rainforest. He felt his eyes well, he was hardly able to blink the tears back. Your voice wavered as you asked the dreaded question. It was much softer this time.

 "Will I die?"

  How do you tell someone they will die no matter what happens? The silence hung poignant in the air as the distant sound of sirens blared as background noise.

"I'm so sorry! It's my fault! I should've grabbed you when I had the chance!"

 "Shut up. Don't think like that. Don't say something like that!! How could it be your fault when a villain attacked this building? It wasn't you, was it?"

 Your arm reached up to his face and cupped his cheek, your eyes memorizing every green swirl and every eyelash. There was no time to ponder on what to say, the sirens grew closer. You didn't have time to think about how scary death was or what would come when it was all over. The pillar was going to be lifted soon, and then you'd be gone.

 "I'm sorry, Izuku. To leave you this way... I'm so sorry," the words felt like arrows in his heart. So final and spoken so softly. Like you'd already made up your mind, how could you make up your mind in a time like this?!

"You're not gonna leave; if I activate my quirk, I can race you to the medics in thirty seconds, maybe twenty. That's our plan, okay? And then I can--"

 "I love you."

"Stop it! Stop saying things like you're ready to go! You aren't! I'm not! Just stop!"

 "I love you."

"Please, I'm not ready...Please keep living with me, I just want to be with you!" He clenched his fist as tears freely fell onto your cheeks, mixing with your own, "This won't be your last time saying this, I promise! Just let me…" 

 You smiled, no teeth this time. Just your lips curving upwards.

"Don't leave me…"

 "I love you!" It was merely a whisper this time.

 The rock near them was blown away, surely by someone's quirk. But all he could see was your smile and your kind but sorrowful eyes.

 "I'm sorry I made you wait so long. I love you, Izuku."

 The lump in his throat ached as he smiled and took your hand off his cheek, interlacing the fingers together. The other free hand came to push the hair out of your face. Would he say it?

 He stared down at the red and white headstone, custom made. It even had your aura with the bright flowers adorning the soft patch of grass in front of it. He knelt down, leaving red and white roses. He supposed red should be an awful color, having seen you drenched in it in your final moments. But whenever he thought of red, he just remembered those rings that made you look so bright. That dress that made you look so beautiful. The lips that often smiled at him. The love you two had shared.

"I'm sorry I couldn't say it then. But I hope you knew that I loved you too."

 It was another day of bright blue skies with fluffy clouds and warm wind. He guessed that All Might would have been enjoying a nice cup of tea while he reminisced. As for you, he assumed you'd be out there saving cats and dogs while accepting churros from strangers.

 It was one of the many bright blue-skied days, but one of the first without you.

[gloriainalbis]

Strangers

Part 1 - Losers (S1E1)

Nathan Young x Reader  Words: 4.4k Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, drugs  Songs:  Strangers - The Kinks  Bad Reputation - Joan Jett 

“So you've been where I've just come From the land that brings losers on”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Ao3

--

    As bad days go, you’re having a pretty horrible one when you arrive at the Wertham Community Center. It’s the first of many to come, part of the court-mandated service that goes along with your ASBO. Your dad keeps telling you that you’re lucky the judge had been so lenient and should be grateful that he’s allowing you to stay with him and your stepmum again– even though you have no one to stay with and nowhere else to go. And he’s your dad. “In the future,” you tell him while getting out of the car, “I think I’ll walk.” 

     Striding through the frosted glass of the front doors, you continue on to the locker rooms to change into the orange jumpsuits you find waiting for you. You choose a locker on the far wall and dump your stuff there. You decide to leave your t-shirt on underneath, zipping the suit up most, but not all, of the way. Finished, you lean back to take a look at your designated companions for the 200 hours to be dispersed across the next few months. One girl has chosen her locker to be in front of the mirror. Her hair is short, curly, and pinned back on the side to form some cute bangs-like fringe. You notice an ankle monitor adorning her lower leg as she strips down to a pink lace pushup bra and panties and steps into her jumpsuit, rolling up the sleeves and bottom cuffs and adding a gold belt around her waist to complete the ensemble. The color of her earrings and bangle bracelets– both large, round, pink, and plastic– match her underwear. She steps back to take a look at herself and smiles. Another girl brushes her hair back into a high and tight ponytail. She looks curvier than the first girl, but just as confident, pairing smoky black eye makeup with shiny, pale pink lip gloss and gold hoop earrings. The guy who’d taken a locker near yours fishes a cigarette out of his pocket and sticks it between his lips. He looks equal parts cute and odd, tall and lanky with a mop unruly, curly hair framing his face. He wears a red and black checkered shirt and an air of swaggering cockiness radiates from him with a pungency usually reserved for uncommonly offensive odors. He smirks at you slyly. The guy with the locker across from the two girls looks vaguely familiar to you. He has two gold chains, one with a cross, and a grey tank top. His jumpsuit is only zipped up halfway, with the arms tied around his waist. He looks remarkably fit, and, not having much of an affinity for sports, you wonder where you recognize him from. The last person you see in the locker room is shadowy and reserved. His hair is short and neatly combed and his jumpsuit is buttoned up all the way to the very last button. He holds a small, black camera phone in his hand and shifts his gaze between people nervously. As you start to file out, one last person stomps in front of you, looking you up and down as he nearly bowls you over. You grimace as he winks. The first thing you notice about him is the immaculate green flat-brimmed baseball cap. You suspect that this hat and others like it are a large part of his personality. Once you’re all together, a man introducing himself as your probation worker, Tony, leads you outside and has you line up against some railing as he gives what you believe is supposed to be a rousing speech. From left to right is Curtis, Gary, Nathan, you, Kelly, Alisha, and Simon. You would learn their names later, but for the purposes of clarity, we’ll start using them now. Tony paces before you, attempting to assume the macho, fear-inducing demeanor of a boot camp officer. “This is it,” he barks. “This is your chance to do something positive. Give something back. You can help people, you can really make a difference to people’s lives. That’s what community service is all about. There are people out there who think you’re scum. You have an opportunity to show them they’re wrong.” He has the tone of someone who has given this speech before and is just barely holding onto their faith in its underlying message. The girl to your left, Kelly, looks mildly offended at the word “scum,” as if Tony had been speaking directly to her. “Yeah, but what if they’re right?” Nathan interrupts on your right. He looks around at the rest of you, “No offense, but I’m thinking some people are just born criminals.” You smile to yourself and try to hold back a chuckle as a look of anger flashes over suspected-douchebag-Gary’s eyes and he bursts out with “Are you looking to get stabbed?” “You see my point there?” Nathan asks, turning back to Tony. A phone rings and Alisha answers with a casual “Hey,” while twirling a curl between her manicured fingers. Tony tries to continue, but he’s becoming increasingly exasperated. “Doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past-” “Doin’ my community service,” Alisha speaks to her phone. “Hey!” He tries and fails to catch her attention. “Boring as fuck,” she continues. It was getting harder not to laugh and you glance at Nathan out of the corner of your eye, amused at the part he had to play in the deterioration of Tony’s speech. “Excuse me!” He tries again. “Hello, I’m still talking here.” “What, I thought you’d finished?” She didn’t care, evidently. “You see my lips still moving, that means I’m still talking.” He tries to assert something akin to authority but clearly doesn’t realize how poorly that approach tends to work on rag-tag groups of rebellious young offenders. “Yeah, but you could have been yawning, or chewing,” Nathan points out facetiously in a drawling tone. Tony ignores him, but you are full-on laughing at this point. “End the call! Hang up!” He shouts at Alisha to no avail. “My probation worker,” she explains to the person on the other line. “You all right there, weird kid?” Nathan leans past you to point at Simon, who stood alone at the far end of your lineup. Tony fumed. “Don’t be disgusting. I’ll call you later.” She finally hangs up, looking over at Nathan, who was approaching Gary and making kissing noises at him. “I’ll rip out your throat and shit down your neck,” Gary snaps back. He looks amusingly short in comparison, you now realize. Curtis grimaces and leans away from the touchy ball of anger standing next to him. “I shouldn’t be here, man.” Kelly gapes at his arrogance as Gary starts to scuffle with Nathan, grabbing at his jumpsuit. “We need to work as a team here. Hey, that’s enough!” Tony takes a few steps forward. “Can I move to a different group? This isn’t going to work for me,” Curtis continues, even though Tony is clearly otherwise engaged. You lean back, nearly bumping into Kelly as she steps to Cutis’ indirect insults. “Um… What makes you think that you’re better than us?” “What is that accent?” Nathan comments, drawn out of his conflict by the way her “us” sounded a lot more like “oss” “Is that for real?” Curtis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What, are you tryna’ say something or yeah?” She speaks, the latter half her sentence mostly lost due to her lack of enunciation. “Its- you- that’s just a noise! Are we supposed to be able to understand her?” Nathan exclaims. You shake your head and raise your eyebrows at their audacity and Kelly’s incoherence. She sticks her hand out and flips him off, “Do you understand that?” Things escalate again when Nathan puts an arm around a violently unwilling Gary who responds by grabbing him and preparing to punch. “Hey, pack it in!” Tony lunges forward to separate them “It’s love, man!” Nathan yells. You double over, stepping back to get out of the way. Kelly meets your gaze and smirks at the growing scene before you. Alisha laughs, a high-pitched giggle. Tony stood between them now, pulling Gary further and further away from Nathan, who assumed a boxer’s stance and put up his fists comically. “Do it man! Do it! You’re a prick, man, look at you!” Gary calls, trying to push past Tony. “What the fuck are they doin’?” You say to everyone behind you as Kelly looks between you and Alisha. Simon looks like he’d rather be elsewhere, as does Curtis, but for different reasons. Nathan had taken to punch the air, which only served to further aggravate Gary. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, bruv! He’s takin’ the piss, come here!” Cue the intro music. --     Tony eventually diffuses the conflict between Nathan and Gary and finally leads everyone to some benches by the lake, which you are told to paint white. Paint drips everywhere, from your shoes to the concrete sidewalk, but you hardly care. How different is this from the reason you were here in the first place? You were reprimanded for painting on someone else’s property and were told to instead paint on someone else’s property to pay for it, how is that supposed to work? The only difference is that the first time had been art, and this was largely pointless. They wanted to cover up the graffiti on these benches, but the new paint job would only make future acts of vandalism easier to see. You did it anyway, though, happy to peel off with Nathan and Kelly as Curtis and Alisha and Simon and Gary pair off to the benches on either side of you. You watch as Gary leans down to pick up more paint on his brush, his hat brushing dangerously close to the fresh paint before it finally touches, leaving a stark white smear on the brim. You poke Nathan’s shoulder and point as Gary notices, ripping off his hat in horror and stomping off in a huff, kicking a bucket of paint into the lake and leaving behind a violent burst of white. “Oh, man! There’s paint on my cap, this is bullshit!” “Ooh!” Alisha whistles as he walks past. Everyone turns and stares as he struggles with a shopping cart that’s in his way, kicking it at first before trying and failing to shove it into the lake as well when it simply falls in front of him, still blocking the path. “I know you,” you hear Alisha say to Curtis, perking up due to your own curiosity. “No, you don’t,” he brushes her off. “Yes, I do,” She continues, unphased. “You’re that runner guy. You screwed up big time.” That’s it. You’d seen him years ago at your secondary school’s track meets and races, and later in the news for his accomplishments and subsequent arrest. “You noticed, yeah? Thanks for reminding me.” He grew increasingly annoyed, and it was abundantly clear. Overhearing, Nathan glances up at Kelly and tries to strike up a conversation, “So I’m guessing shoplifting?” She ignores him. “No?” He was about to speak again when she cuts him off, “Don’t act like you know me, ‘cuz you don’t.” “I’m just makin’ conversation!” He motions to you and Kelly, “This is a chance to network with other young offenders. We should be swapping tips. Brainstorming!” He looks at you to continue, but you stay silent, also curious about Kelly’s infraction. You shrug and he looks back at her. “Come on, what did you do?” “This girl called me a slag so I just got into a fight,” she admits, slapping her paintbrush to the bench in annoyance. “Was this on the Jeremy Kyle show?” He jokes. “No, it was at Argos.” “Argos?” you ask, finding the store an odd place to get into fights. “You know what you should’ve done? You should have got one of them little pens and jabbed it in her eye.” He was referring to the pens for filling out the catalog cards at Argos and you smirk at the image, but Kelly just stares at him incredulously. It’s an odd thing to say to someone you barely knew. He turns to look at you, “And you? I need to know what we’re workin’ with here.” “Ah…” You glance between Nathan and Kelly before continuing, “Graffiti, mostly, and throwing a party that bugged my neighbors, breaking the peace.” You had broken the law, technically, but it was nothing compared to punching someone and getting into a fight in the middle of Argos. He raises his eyebrows curiously, “Is there a story behind it or was it just mindless vandalism?” “It was on the wall of my apartment, my landlord saw it when he went to break up a party that my friends were throwing and he said he’d report me.” “Oh, what a wanker!” Nathan exclaims. “The worst part is I lost the apartment and now I’ve gotta live with my dad and stepmum again and it’s a living nightmare.” You don’t want to exaggerate or sound like too much of a cliche, but your stepmother is one of the meanest people you have ever encountered. You could understand it to some extent, as she has two young children and you aren’t the greatest of influences. You call these siblings stepfuck and stepcunt respectively, case in point. “Well, I can sympathize with that. But at least yours is a stepmum, they’re, like, inherently kinda hot, amirite?” You glare at him and begin to understand some of Kelly’s annoyance. He redirects, turning his attention to Simon, who is now painting his bench all alone after Gary’s outburst. “What about you, weird kid? Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but you look like a panty-sniffer.” He holds his hands up beside his face, mocking a disgusting sniff of some invisible panties. “I’m not a panty-sniffer,” he responds. “I’m not a pervert.” He tries to return to painting the bench, but Nathan begins walking towards him, pretending to jack off with his paintbrush still in his hand, grunting disgustingly. You sigh and roll your eyes, glancing at Kelly. He could be funny, sure, but you were quickly learning about his tendency to take things too far. Kelly shrugs at you. “I tried to burn someone’s house down,” Simon blurts out to get Nathan to stop. Everyone who’d heard snapped to attention, as arson seems considerably more serious than vandalism or a few punches. “Fire?” Nathan laughs and walks back. Kelly looks up at him, “What did you do?” You were still curious about the fire and arson, but you let the conversation move on regardless. “Me? I was done for eatin’ some pick ‘n’ mix.” “Yeah, right,” you scoff. “Bollocks,” Kelly agrees. “What is goin’ on with this weather,” Nathan muses, distracted, as thunder rolls down from overhead and you quickly noticed the growing dark storm clouds in the sky just across the lake. Huh, odd. That hadn’t been there just a few minutes ago. “How did that happen?” you hear behind you, looking around to see Tony returning, an angry look instantly plastered to his face. He points to the overturned paint can, part of Gary’s carnage, and holds his arms up in exasperation. “I mean, you’ve been here five minutes. It’s painting benches. How’d you screw that up? You tell me, because I’ve got no idea.” From out of nowhere, a giant white ball of something smashes down on the car behind Tony, completely caving in the roof and sending the car alarm blaring. Shocked, you jump back and duck amid the various screams and cries of “What the hell was that?” and “Oh, Jesus!” Nathan’s smug grin immediately falls and transforms into fear and wonderment. Alisha shrieks, crying out in a warbling tone, “What’s goin’ on?” Tony turns around slowly in disbelief and gasps, “That’s my car!” “Oh, fuck,” you mutter under your breath. But Nathan isn’t taking it as seriously. “Classic,” he chuckles, thinking it to be some sort of prank. But then another thing falls from the sky into the lake behind you, whizzing past your heads and spraying you, Nathan, and Kelly in an onslaught of lake-water. “Okay, so I’m a little bit freaked out!” he admits. “No fucking shit!” you agree. “What is that?” Alisha asks, turning your attention to the storm Nathan had pointed out just moments ago. It had grown, somehow, turning dark and dangerous as it travels at an unnervingly fast pace towards your group. Simon holds his phone up to film the storm and its effects just as another ball crashes into the dumpster beside him, knocking over the heavy, metal container and spewing ice at him as he ducks and runs from it. More and more ice falls from the sky, huge blocks larger than your head, and you don’t want to think of what could happen if one of them hit you. “Right, let’s get everyone inside,” Tony instructs as more and more of them fall all around you. “Move! Move! Run!” You sprint back to the community center at top speed, holding your head as ice shards rain down on you, pelting and stinging your face and arms. Your heart practically beats out of your chest. One ball of ice pummels into the sidewalk in front of you, breaking a concrete tile. Another falls into a phonebooth, and the glass shatters to the ground around your feet. The storm seems to get thicker as you near the center, and your hair is plastered to your face from the mixture of sweat and water that you were drenched in. You could barely hear Tony yell “Keep going!” over the crashes and booms that fill your ears as you run for your life. Curtis reaches the door first, pulling on the handles and banging on the glass before stepping back and yelling over the din to Tony, “It’s locked! Open it!” Tony groans, “Come on…” and fumbles with the keys. You throw yourself against the wall, as far away as possible from the mega hail storm, and scream, “Just fuckin’ unlock it!” “What is happening?” Kelly shrieks as another massive ball of ice falls onto the pavement beside her. “Open the door, come on!” Nathan yells as Tony grows increasingly frustrated. “I’m finding the right key!” he bellows back “Open the door!” Curtis yells again, and Alisha agreed. “Open the fucking door!” Tony whips around in a burst of anger, “Don’t speak to me like that!” You were about to berate him for his poor priorities when a bright white burst of cold lightning cracks in front of you and sends you flying backward in a chorus of screams. Time slows as you fly through the air and the electricity transforms from a chilling shock to a burning flare, searing and snaking through you as you soar and tumble backward onto the hard pavement. You hit the ground with a sickening thud, from which groans and cries of pain follow. A few remaining snowballs hit the ground around you, but the storm appears to have passed. “I feel really weird,” you hear Kelly say. Your vision is still black, which has you worried until you realize it’s only because your eyes are still closed. You open them and sit up, rubbing the back of your head, which is still screaming in pain. “That’ll be the lightning,” Curtis says to try and explain what just happened. “We should be dead,” Simon points out. “Well, that’s comforting,” you snap back. “A little reassurance might be nice, you know,” Nathan agrees, instead directing his comment to Tony, who is sprawled before the door of the center and has just started to sit up. “‘You’re fine!’ ‘Looking good!’” he elaborates. “Wanker…” Tony groans, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Did he just call me a wanker?” Nathan asks, indignantly glancing at you and everyone else. He snaps his fingers at Tony, “Hey? Hello?” You see a quick look of anger flash across Tony’s face before he grumbles, “Is everyone alright?” “We could have died, you dick,” Alisha adds. “Are you alright?” Kelly asks tentatively as Tony shakes his head and coughs out a growl. “You’re actin’ like a freak.” He ignores her, “Maybe we should call it a day.” --     Tony finally manages to unlock the door, and you return to the locker rooms to gather your things. You feel like you should be annoyed, leaving early only means you’ll have to spend another day here, but you are too exhausted to feel anything. That was probably the closest you’d ever been to death. You can still feel your heart beating, a deep, steady drumbeat, and your lungs ache from the running and adrenaline. Beside you, Nathan closes his locker and leans against it before turning to you, “Do you think we’ll stick together now, bonded by our shared experiences?” “Dunno. I’d rather spend as little time here as possible,” you explain, closing your locker and stepping away to put on your hoodie. “Oh, you’re one of those types, are you?” Nathan smiles. “What type?” You glare at him. “The I’m-too-cool-for-this type.” “No, that’s Curtis,” you quip, knowing that he’d already left the room. “I just happen to not like community service.” Or any of these morons, all the other girls are total slags. “Hey!” Kelly snaps, swinging around to glare at you suddenly. “Oookay?” You turn away awkwardly and leave, you can’t imagine anything you’d said having offended her. Maybe she just really loves community service or something, but that is decidedly not the impression you’ve gotten from her so far. You walk out to the waiting area by the vending machines, where you find Curtis and Simon standing around in heavy silence. Nathan follows after you moments later. “Do we just go, then?” Curtis asks, clearly annoyed. “Where’s the probation worker?” “I think there’s something wrong with him,” Simon speaks up. “It’s like he was having a spasm.” “He was probably just faking it, trying to get some compensation. Cheap bastard,” Nathan scoffs. “I don’t think he was faking it,” Simon insists, looking back down at his phone. “And you know all about being… mental.” Nathan takes a few steps forward as he talks, leering at Simon and lowering his voice. Then he pretends to convulse and yells “Wanker!” You punch him in the shoulder. “Ow, what the hell was that for?” He sticks his head out at you almost comically. You stick your head out back at him. “Stop being such a prick, he might have a point.” Alisha walks in, already looking bored. “Are we waiting for something?” “Probation worker,” Curtis explains. She scrunches up her face in disgust. “I’m not hanging around for that dickhead.” She turns on her heel and leaves, which everyone else seems to take as their cue to leave as well. You can’t be bothered to be the only one waiting around, so you follow suit. Once outside, everyone pretty much goes their separate ways. Nathan, however, trots after you. “What’re you doin’?” You ask. “Thought you looked a little lonely, and, well, I’d like to recommend my own company as recompense.” He motions to himself like he’s all that, which honestly has you snorting to hold back your laughter. “You can’t be serious.” You raise your eyebrows. “Fine, I happen to live along this way, alright? I’m Nathan, by the way.” “Y/n.” You smile at him. “And I’ll have you know that to date, I haven’t had a single complaint.” He says it like you should be impressed or something. “Can’t have complaints if you haven’t been with anybody,” you joke, smirking. His jaw drops in mock surprise, “Oy! I have, too!” He keeps trying to impress upon you the depth of his sexual prowess, offering many stories as proof, all of which have you in stitches. He peels off when you were about halfway home. You say your goodbyes and wave as he walks away, grateful for the company. A few houses down from your own, though, you stop walking, contemplating what to do next. Home doesn’t seem like a particularly fun place to be right now, but it’s not like you have anywhere else to go. It’s still the early afternoon, so it would probably be only your stepmum at home, with your dad at work and your step siblings at school. It’s practically a worst-case scenario, as you doubt she would believe that they let you go early. You wish this day had gone differently. As you’re musing and trying to work up the courage to walk the thirty or so meters left to your front door, the skies begin to darken. You look up to see if a cloud had rolled in overhead, not exactly trusting the weather as of late, but as soon as you do so, it disappears and the sky goes back to normal. You think nothing of it, which is probably a poor choice on your part, but you are too burned out to care. You finally reach the front door, closing it gingerly behind you, but to no avail. “Y/n? Is that you?” You hear from the other room. “Yup.” You stand in the doorway to the kitchen, knowing you need to address this, but desperately wanting to leave. “They let us go early today.” She eyes you quizzically, “Really?” Now here’s the thing, the truth isn’t even remotely believable– There was a freak hail storm and everyone in our group got hit by lightning or something but now we’re all okay and our probation officer did too, he let us go early and then disappeared– so you have to lie. “Yeah, ‘cuz it’s the first day. They mostly showed us the ropes, got us started on something, and then let us go.” You wait, holding your breath. “Oh.” She looks disappointed. “I thought you’d be out today.” “Yeah, well I did, too,” you mumble as you walk away, not really caring whether or not she heard. “What’d you say?!” she calls after you. “Nothing!” you yell back as you walk as quickly as possible to your room. Once inside, you sigh and collapse onto your bed. You feel like a teenager again and it’s horrible, being forced to be somewhere where you’re treated like immature crap every day, living at home again, constantly having a row with your stepmum. You hope, but doubt, that the next day will be better.