#he's on his way to clock in for another shift at he loving you factory btw

[lale-txt]

banana color palette sakusa kiyoomi for good luck, a proper night of rest and limitless creativity for your next project

[zablife]

My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars-Part 1

Luca Changretta x OC (Aurora Sabini Changretta)

Summary: Luca and Aurora Changretta come to the UK to avenge the murder of Luca's brother and father. However, as their volatile marriage unravels, events take an unexpected turn.

Author's Note: This has been on my mind since I created the moodboard ages ago. And it's been requested in several forms, the most recent being a lovely anon who wanted to see Tommy with an American mafia girl. OC Rose Solomons belongs to @raincoffeeandfandoms. Prequel has been posted as phone calls in two parts here and here. I would def recommend reading that before starting this fic! One more part coming soon!

Warnings: language, domestic violence, mention of blood, use of ethnic slur

☀️🌙✨MASTERLIST

Luca stood pointing at a map with his forefinger, tracing a path from the garden to the center of Arrow House, mumbling in a low voice to his men. Thunder rumbled overhead as Aurora made her way into the room, unnoticed by everyone, skirting the perimeter of the room as she listened carefully. When she’d heard enough she spoke up from the back of the room, voice even and measured to show she was in control as much as her husband. “Non sono d’accordo, Luca.”

Luca’s head shot up as he searched between the faces to find his wife, though he thought he’d caught a hint of her perfume moments earlier, taunting him as he attempted to strategize. 

“It’s too risky to approach him at home again,” Aurora declared, stalking toward the desk with cigarette in hand. The smoke parted the men before her arrival at the table and she stamped out her cigarette a bit too forcefully before joining her husband where he stood. Although she hadn’t been invited to give her opinion, she’d been listening to every word, silently judging the ludicrous plan Luca was suggesting.

“Don’t you remember what the intelligence said about his family? They’re gypsies, fucking savages,” she emphasized. “And he’ll be expecting us this time so he'll have even more protection,” Aurora said with a dismissive shake of her head. Luca’s face and neck reddened at the scolding tone of her voice, his blood boiling instantly at the brazen way she dared to usurp his power.

The air grew thick with their silence and as Aurora’s eyes scanned the room, she noticed not one of the men looked in her direction. They shifted uncomfortably as Luca reached for a matchstick, placing it between gritted teeth.

A low growl emitted before his words, causing everyone to stand at attention once more. “And what would you have me do, tesoro?” he said the pet name without any hint of warmth, but Aurora did not back away. In fact, she stepped closer to her husband, standing just below his shoulder as she placed a hand to his forearm gently. 

“I’m only asking that we consider a few more options,” she said diplomatically. Then she reasoned, “There must be another way to get to Tommy Shelby. His sister’s home in London or perhaps one of his factories. We’ll have to wait for him to come to us this time.”

Luca removed the match from his mouth as she spoke, lighting it and held it perilously close to her face as he taunted, “We smoke him out, principessa? Is that what you want?” he asked moving even closer, the flame in danger of catching her loose curls on fire.

Aurora didn’t blink as she watched the flame dance before her eyes. She could feel the heat close to her skin and her pulse quickened. “Basta cosi!,” she warned with raised eyebrow.

As lightning flashed outside the office window the spell was broken, Luca blew out the match with a dark chuckle. Turning to his men he concluded with a wave of his hand, “You heard my wife.” Then rolling up the map before him with haste he added, “We’ll pick this up tomorrow when everyone’s rested.” Everyone filed out, but Matteo and Enzo remained to ensure nothing else was needed for the evening. Aurora remained at the window as Luca instructed, “Seven o’ clock sharp, you understand?” 

“Yes, boss,” Matteo and Enzo replied, trudging toward their rooms. It was only their second night in England and they had not yet acclimated to the time difference. They felt the exhaustion seeping into their bones, the relentless demands weighing on them heavily. 

Before they could move more than a few steps down the corridor, they heard the shouting begin. As the sound of glass shattering broke the crescendo of voices, Matteo ran a hand down his face, a hint of irritation as he sighed heavily. “Do you have the number for the hospital?” he asked his associate.

Enzo nodded slowly. “And the morgue,” he added solemnly, eyes lingering on the doorknob. He didn’t want to listen to the distinct sounds of Luca’s blows striking the object of his ire or Aurora’s muffled cries, but he would have to stand watch until it was over to know how to proceed. 

Luca tired easily tonight and Aurora limped from the suite thirty minutes later, hair disheveled to hide the bruise forming across her cheekbone. She fell once, picking herself up from the hard wooden floor with a sniffle and Matteo and Enzo turned from her as though they hadn’t seen her in ruin, a familiar routine of make believe.

“Let’s get some fucking sleep,” Matteo said when she disappeared into a separate room.

Enzo had just closed the door to his room and kicked off his shoes when the phone began to ring.

“Enzo, what’s going on? Luca hasn’t phoned,” Mr. Sabini grumbled.

“Luca’s been…working on strategy,” Enzo fumbled, thinking of the fight he’d just witnessed. He didn’t dare mention it to Aurora’s father though. Out of everyone who knew of their tumultuous marriage, Antonio Sabini was somehow unaware of his daughter’s plight. 

As if on cue, Antonio asked, “How’s Aurora?” 

Enzo gulped as he thought of a reply. “You know, she’s got her ideas,” he said truthfully.

“That’s my little girl!,” Antonio answered proudly. "She's got a sharp mind and she's good under pressure!" he boasted. "Mark my words, Enzo, this vendetta will end as quickly as it started now that Luca has my Aurora by his side. She won't lose any of our men either because she's much more delicate than he is with these affairs you see. Luca's always been too temperamental," he mused.

"Yeah," Enzo agreed quietly, hoping Mr. Sabini was right.

“Keep me informed. I want to know everything,” Antonio said sternly. “And keep Aurora out of danger if it comes to that.”

“Yes, sir,” Enzo reluctantly agreed, unsure how he was going to keep the promise. 

“And Enzo, buy her blue hydrangeas tomorrow,” Antonio ordered. “They’re her favorite. I don’t want her feeling homesick,” he added softly, the fondness of a memory seeping into his voice and making it much quieter than before.

“Of course,” Enzo said, replacing the heavy receiver in the cradle and falling into bed, only to be awoken an hour later by the sounds of lovemaking in the room next door.

—————————————-

At seven the next morning, Aurora entered Luca’s office, smiling to herself as she held a large bouquet in her arms. All the men in the room turned to drink in the sight of her glamour, a trait that lived on in her from her exceptionally beautiful mother. Enzo and Matteo exchanged knowing glances as they traced the lines of her face, noting how talented she’d become at hiding the swelling and bruises. 

Although it sickened them to watch, she bent low to capture Luca’s mouth in a tender kiss, pulling away to breath a near silent “mi dispiace” against his lips. For reasons known only to her and Luca, they always fell back into each other’s arms. It was as predictable as the rising sun.

“I know you are, baby,” he replied, turning her out of his lap. 

“Grazie, amore,” she said sweetly holding up the flowers and stroking his cheek adoringly.

Luca knitted his brow, a hint of confusion noticeable, before he glanced up at his wife with a smug grin. “Of course, sweetheart. If you’ll excuse us, there’s business this morning and I think you had your say last night.”

Aurora nodded obediently and went to put the flowers in water as though in a trance. As soon as the door had shut behind her, Luca’s expression changed to a deep grimace. “Which one of you assholes got flowers for my wife?” He leaned forward onto his elbows, awaiting an answer.

Soon Enzo spoke up with a slight tremble in his voice. “It was me, but it wasn’t because of last night, Luca.”

Luca narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck did you say to me?”

“Her father asked me to get ‘em,” Enzo clarified with a slight cough, suddenly remembering his lines in the play they were subconsciously rehearsing at any given moment.

“Figlio di puttana!” Luca said, smacking the desk with his palm. “He spoiled her and now look how she acts!”  He shook his head with an indignant scoff, turning to look out the window. “Thank God she married a man like me to keep her in her place, right?”

———————————————

“We aren’t in Darby’s territory any more. Where are we going, Luca?,” Aurora asked as the car bumped along the narrow roads. Luca turned to look out the window as though he didn’t hear, second guessing his decision to bring his wife along to the negotiations with the mad baker of Camden Town. However, Aurora would not be ignored. She had played the dutiful wife for weeks so as not to insult his manhood further, but every attempt at moving closer to Tommy Shelby had failed, resulting in multiple casualties. To make matters worse, every man lost was a member of her own family, brought from New York to aid the Changrettas in their vendetta. The idea of losing more men sickened her and she began to consider the possibility that she would have to challenge her husband once more.

Then Luca spoke up, but he only offered a sliver of information. “We’re on our way to Camden Town, alright?” he said before settling back into his seat with a sigh.

Aurora was raised at her father’s elbow watching the deals he made and how he researched his enemies. However, there were things she’d learned on her own as a result of being the only woman in a room full of men. How you had to demure and make them think an idea had been their own. She’d learned the art of manipulation and weaponized it early on as a means of survival. Today called for such an approach.

“An alliance with the Jews? That’s clever,” she praised, hoping her guess was correct. Running a hand along his knee seductively, she waited for Luca to confirm her suspicions.

Luca turned to face his wife, a surprised look on his face. “And how do you know about Alfie Solomons?” 

“He’s connected to the east Boston Jews. But, Darby knows him, of course. Says he’s unpredictable and violent,” Aurora added wearily.

She watched the muscles in Luca’s jaw tighten beneath the shadow of his fedora, knowing he didn’t like Aurora involving herself. Rubbing two fingers against his chin thoughtfully, he dismissed her concern. “I’ve spoken to your father and he approves. That’s all you need to know,” Luca said firmly.

“I wish you would tell me more about today,” she cajoled.

“No, amore. Not this time,” Luca said, clasping his large fingers over her gloved hand and giving her a squeeze that bordered on painful reprimand.

As the car jerked to a stop in front of a dilapidated building in Camden Town, she turned to her husband and took once last desperate chance as they exited the vehicle. “Luca, let me speak to Mr. Solomons. A woman’s touch to the negotiations might be just the thing to keep him from erupting,” she said innocently.

This infuriated Luca and he pulled her back, making her stumble on the rough cobblestones. “Like hell you will. This is my deal!” he spat.

“That concerns my family name and my blood!” Aurora retaliated, batting at his chest with her fists, unable to control herself further.

Luca’s eyes blazed with fury, striking her with full force and causing her to fall to the ground. Landing on rough stone, she sliced her arm as she hit, immaculate clothing ruined in the filthy street.

“Get the fuck up,” Luca commanded through clenched teeth.

Aurora winced involuntarily as she pushed her body forward, feeling the pain in her arm throb as soon as he placed weight onto her hand and blood trickle from her nose. “Vaffanculo!” she yelled, placing her fingertips to her chin and thrusting them toward him. 

Luca leaned down and dragged her to her feet, fingers digging into her flesh as he swore, "You make any more trouble for me and I swear to God you'll die here, Aurora. No one will know the difference if I tell them the Shelbys did it," he hissed in her ear as a small woman with dark hair appeared before them. 

“Can I help you with something?” she asked, looking the couple up and down, hands on her hips with more authority than someone her size ought to have. 

Luca released his wife immediately, straightening her clothes as he painted on a charming smile. “She fell on the cobblestones,” he explained smoothly. “I’m here to see Alfie Solomons. Is he in?” he inquired as he stepped forward, seeming to forget his wife in distress.

“Depends on whose asking,” the woman replied, glancing at Aurora with concern. 

Luca removed his hat as he introduced himself. “I’m Luca Changretta,” he said, extending a hand.

Thoroughly unimpressed by his charisma, the tiny woman tilted her head at him. “And who is she?” 

Luca coughed to cover his embarrassment. “This is my wife, Aurora. She’ll be staying outside,” he said with a pointed look at his wife, who stood, cradling her arm.

“If you want to see my husband, I insist this woman come in as well. She requires medical attention,” Rose said sternly. 

“If you insist,” Luca said, pursing his lips. 

“I insist,” the woman said with a definitive nod. “I’m Rose Solomons, Alfie’s wife. Come in,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“Darling,” Luca said with a sneer, extending his arm toward Aurora.

Aurora pushed past him and followed Rose inside. Luca followed two steps behind, removing a match from his pocket and chewing it ferociously. He didn’t like being humiliated by the Solomons woman and made a mental note to make Alfie pay dearly for it.

As Luca was shown to Alfie’s office, Rose took Aurora to a separate part of the distillery. Her interest was peaked now that she’d witnessed something between husband and wife that felt unsavory. The Solomons’ liked to make it their business to know everything about their associates and this felt like something worth noting.

———————

Rose expected someone quite different from the woman she was meeting today. She’d heard Aurora Changretta was a tigress, someone who never gave an inch to her enemies. However, the woman who stood before her bloodied and broken was not in a position to argue. She might listen to the plea on Rose’s lips so she began in earnest.

As Rose handed over a flannel dipped in cool water, she admitted what she wanted. “I’ll be blunt, Mrs. Changretta. My Alfie has cancer. He’s riddled with it. The doctors say it’s probably from the gas during the war,” she explained with furrowed brow as though she didn’t understand or believe the words that came from her lips. However, Aurora knew them to be true. They were the admission of someone who loved deeply and had not yet come to terms with an imminent loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Aurora responded. “But I don’t see how I can help,” she admitted.

Rose cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, rising to her full height. “You can get that man out there to go home. Leave us in peace for the days we have left,” she asserted.

Aurora bit her lip to keep a bitter laugh from escaping. Instead she just shook her head. Taking a deep breath she turned to Rose and spoke slowly to make the other woman realize her predicament. “You think I tell him the ways of the world? No, he doesn’t answer to me,” she admitted, dabbing at her wounds. “He has very little use for me these days,” Aurora admitted in a soft whisper.

"I thought your family ran New York?" Rose asked slightly confused.

"And now it's my husband so you see we're bound," Aurora replied with a look of resolve.

Rose took in the sight before her, bruises covered by layers of make up, bones badly healed over time. The limp when she walked inside and the arm she cradled gingerly now. This was a woman who knew suffering and yet there was tenacity in her hazel eyes that couldn't be denied. It was this strength Rose appealed to now.

“You’d die by his hand? Because that’s where you’re headed, love,” Rose warned, recalling her own difficult past. “Won’t you try?”

Aurora paused for a moment, a trickle of bloody water running down her elbow as she washed. This went against everything Aurora had ever been taught. You never spoke against your family, no matter what happened. Her parents ingrained that in her at an early age. However, her parents’ marriage had been one based on love and respect. No matter how many times they reconciled, she and Luca did not carry the same affection.

As she sat in the damp distillery, listening to the distant sound of machinery, she thought of her future with Luca and his intention to crush her beneath him became abundantly clear. He didn’t care for her as he once did. When the money and the resources were gone, he would dispose of her.

Finally Aurora mumbled one word into the darkness of the small room, keeping her voice low in case Luca was nearby. “How?”

Rose inhaled a sharp breath, chin rising suddenly with renewed hope to meet Aurora’s wide eyes, full of questions and doubt. She knew how hard it would be to ask this of kind of trust from a stranger, but if she could convince her to take the first step, the rest would fall into place.

“We get you to Tommy Shelby,” Rose said confidently.

Aurora shook her head violently. “No, please. He’ll kill me.”

“He won’t. He’s not Luca,” Rose promised, rushing the rest of her speech for fear Aurora might bolt in fear. “This vendetta was started by the Changrettas and your husband is using your family to fund his war. Now he’s asking my husband to help. It won’t stop unless we say so. We can stop him, Aurora. Will you join me?” Rose asked, reaching for Aurora’s bloodied hand.

Aurora’s lip trembled thinking of crossing Luca, but she had had enough. If there was one thing her father taught her it was to fight for her own interests and she knew she still had fight within her. 

“Yes, I’ll help you,” Aurora agreed on a shaky breath, reaching for Rose.

“We’ll protect you, I promise,” Rose said, intertwining her fingers with Aurora’s stained fingertips. The blood that tainted her would soon be washed clean.

————————————

It had taken another week and several clandestine phone calls before Aurora could steal away to meet Rose. She’d convinced Luca that she needed medicine for her cuts and he allowed her to leave the hotel though she knew she didn’t have long. Rose knew a man who could help them meet in neutral territory, but it would be brief as Luca sent someone to watch over Aurora whenever she left. With that in mind, Aurora stole away one afternoon wondering if this was all a mistake.

The bell above the door of the chemist rang out and Aurora took a deep breath, scanning the small shop for Rose. The tiny woman stood in the corner, observing a box as though she were another patron and when she spied Aurora she beckoned to her. Aurora felt her heart thundering in her chest as she followed Rose through a narrow doorway, descending a dark staircase. However, it was far too late to reconsider and she marched ahead with as much courage as she could muster.

Aurora soon found herself face to face with Tommy Shelby who paced the length of a small, dimly lit room. She knew him instantly from photographs and descriptions of his deep blue eyes like two pools that could drown you if you stared too long. The moment she entered, she was mesmerized by him.

“You killed my wife,” Tommy said, a stillness coming over his features when he caught sight of his enemy. Aurora sucked in a breath, recognizing the inherent danger facing her. Violent men all had the same deceiving comportment, a snake coiled and ready to strike. 

“Tommy, please....” Rose interjected in a pleading tone, willing the meeting to continue. Rose glanced at Aurora and noticed a visible change in her demeanor, a hardening of her exterior as she refused to show any kind of weakness.

“Luca killed your wife. I only tried to kill you,” Aurora said defiantly, head held high.

A moment of silence passed as Tommy considered Aurora. Then she spoke again, "You misunderstand, Mr. Shelby. I'm trying to end this. It was never my fight," she said softly, feeling the weight of every life lost in service to her and the family.

“If this wasn’t your fight, why the fuck are you supplying your husband enough money and soldiers to overthrow the British empire, love?” Tommy countered.

“Loyalty. I hear that you’re like me when it comes to your family, Mr. Shelby. You would do anything to protect them. I didn’t agree with my husband, but I promised to protect him….”

“Do you honestly think he’d do the same for you?,” Tommy asked, blue eyes icing over to match the chill in his voice. He knew he was being cruel, but he had to test her in this moment to see if she would crumble.

“I have no illusions about our marriage,” Aurora confided on a low breath. She forced herself to make eye contact as she said, “That's why I'm here. Rose told me you might be willing to strike a bargain.”

Tommy scoffed, turning away from Aurora and she worried what she’d been told about his mercy was false. 

“Fucking hell, Tommy. She’s here and she’s willing to talk. Isn’t that enough?” Rose asked.

Tommy turned with a look of warning, “Alright, give him up.”

“What?” Aurora asked.

“Give up your husband and we’ll call it even,” Tommy demanded.

Aurora swallowed harshly, considering the choices at her disposal. Stay and see more bloodshed or end it with one final betrayal. It took only a fraction of a second to see the choice she had to make. 

“An ambush,” Aurora agreed quietly, fixing her gaze on Tommy. “But we have to make Luca think you aren’t expecting him. That he can take the shot.”

A smug look came over Tommy's handsome face. "You are as ruthless as they say, aren't you?" he commented. Then just as suddenly the amusement in his features disappeared and he turned stone faced once more. “How do I know I can trust you?” Tommy asked.

Aurora began to laugh bitterly.

“That’s fucking funny to you?” Tommy asked.

Aurora shook her head as a tear fell from her cheek, the enormity of her decision causing her to fall into a momentary fit of insanity. “He married me and he saw cashmere, cologne, red racing cars…All I wanted was love. It wasn't supposed to be like this,” she sniffed as she looked away from him, trying to catch her breath and regain composure. She pushed the pain away and felt her anger rise up in its place, “I just want out, you understand? I want out from under him," she confided, her whole body beginning to shake. 

Rose approached her and covered her with her shawl. “It’s alright, Aurora. You’re going to be alright,” she promised, looking to Tommy.

“Artillery Square, two days time,” he said with a satisfactory nod. 

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

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[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 24: My Heart I Surrender

(Are they finally going to confess? ❤️)

I have a thought of you for every star in the sky.

“My Heart I Surrender” ~ I Prevail

The clock blinked 2:00 a.m., its red numbers glowing like eyes from the nightstand. Hikari lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her mind too restless for sleep. The events of the last few weeks replayed in her mind on an endless loop—Kensho’s ambush, the battle at the factory, Ryusei’s departure. Her body still ached from the deepest, darkest bruises she’d collected, but it wasn’t just physical exhaustion that kept her awake.

With a sigh, she shoved her blanket aside. Why is it always 2 a.m.?

She grabbed her hoodie and slipped on her shoes, the motion automatic, more muscle memory than conscious decision. She needed air, space to think—anything to clear her head. Sliding the window open, she climbed down the fire escape, the cool night breeze brushing against her face as she made her way down.

She glanced up at Keisuke's dark window. Usually, she would end up going to him, but he was just as worn out as she was. No, let him rest, she thought, turning towards the sidewalk.

The city felt muted at this hour. Only the occasional passing car broke the quiet. Hikari’s footsteps were soft against the pavement as she walked toward the konbini a few blocks away. She just wanted a snack and a walk to help reset her thoughts.

As she rounded the corner, the glow of the streetlamp illuminated five figures huddled nearby. Oh, for the love of fuck... Hikari sighed inwardly, immediately recognizing them—the old bullies from her first day of school in Tokyo. Of all the nights, why this one? Goddammit.

She pulled her hood up over her head and kept her face down, hoping to pass by unnoticed. She really, really wasn’t in the mood for this shit at two in the morning.

But, of course, they noticed her. Of course they did.

“Well, well, look who it is,” sneered the leader. “Skunk Girl. Long time, no see.”

Hikari’s hands clenched into fists inside her hoodie. She could already feel her patience thinning, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. She rolled her eyes and kept walking, ignoring the familiar taunt. But the leader wasn’t about to let her go so easily.

“Oh, so you're just gonna walk right past us, huh?” he jeered, stepping closer. “Like you’re something special. Like you don't got time for old friends like us.”

“I don't,” she replied flatly. All she wanted was a strawberry milk. Not any of this nonsense.

“Still just as sassy, huh? I'd be careful if I were you,” he leaned closer, his tone threatening. “You're out here all by yourself.”

Another one chimed in, emboldened by the group. “Yeah, where’s your little boyfriend now, huh?”

Her nostrils flared and her jaw tightened. She'd had enough. But before she could respond, a voice—calm and unbothered—cut through the tension.

“I’m right here.”

The leader froze, and the group fell silent, their expressions shifting as they turned toward the voice.

Baji stepped out of the shadows, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, his posture relaxed but radiating menace. His eyes glinted with that familiar dangerous edge, the one that made people think twice before crossing him. He glanced at the leader with quiet disdain, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“What’s the matter?” Baji asked, his voice low and teasing, though there was nothing playful about his stance. “Didn’t hear me?”

The leader’s bravado faltered, hardly believing this was the same scrappy kid who kicked their asses before. “Who the hell—”

But he never got the chance to finish.

Baji moved in a blur—fast, precise. His fist connected with the leader’s jaw, sending him crashing to the pavement with a heavy thud. The rest of the group barely had time to react before Baji was on them, each punch landing with brutal efficiency. The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed in the quiet night, punctuated by grunts and groans.

Within moments, the five were left sprawled on the ground, groaning and clutching their sides. Baji stood over them, his expression as calm as ever, like he’d just taken out the trash.

“I warned you,” Baji said, his voice cold and steady. “I told you not to mess with her again. Didn’t I?”

The leader, struggling to lift his head, winced in pain. “Who the hell are you?” he muttered, fear thick in his voice.

Baji’s smirk widened, but there was no warmth in it—only a dangerous gleam. “Baji Keisuke,” he said, his tone carrying the weight of a death sentence. “First Division Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang.”

The name hung in the air like a death knell. The bullies’ eyes widened in terror. Toman. Without another word, they scrambled to their feet, bruised and battered, but driven by pure fear. They fled into the night, desperate to get as far away from Baji as possible.

The street fell silent again, the soft buzzing of the konbini’s lights were the only sound. Baji stood there, his fists still clenched, though his breathing was calm and even.

Hikari hadn’t moved. She stood a few steps away, watching him, her hands still in her hoodie pocket. The way he handled it—so calm, so confident—she felt instant relief, like a weight had been lifted from her chest.

“I told you,” he said, turning to face her, his voice softer now. “I’ve got you.”

The city streets were quiet under the blanket of night, the air cool but still, as if the world itself was holding its breath. His steps were steady beside her, the soft sound of their shoes tapping against the pavement in sync. His hand rested on her shoulder—a familiar, comforting weight.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice calmer now, though a protective edge still lingered beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” she replied, her pulse slowly settling after the adrenaline of the encounter. The relief of having him by her side was undeniable. “I’m fine.”

His brow furrowed slightly, his grip tightening on her shoulder, a mix of protectiveness and frustration. “What the hell were you thinking? Walking around this late by yourself?”

She hesitated for a moment, her fingers tightening in the pocket of her hoodie. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, her voice soft. “And I wanted a strawberry milk.”

He let out a scoff, but there was no real anger in it. He pulled her a little closer as they walked, his tone half-scolding, half-gentle. “You should’ve come over. I would've gone with you. Don’t do stupid stuff like this alone.”

She looked up at him, a small smile curving her lips. “I didn't want to bug you. I can handle a walk by myself, you know.”

“Yeah, well, clearly.” He shot her a look, his teasing softened by the lingering concern in his eyes. “Next time, just wake me up. It’s not that hard.”

Her smile grew a little wider, but she didn’t argue. The way he said it—so matter-of-factly, like it was obvious she should rely on him—was a reminder of the bond they shared. The silence that followed was comfortable, the night around them quiet except for the occasional sound of a car passing or a dog barking.

After a few minutes, she glanced up at him, curiosity getting the better of her. “So… back there,” she started, her voice casual but with a playful edge. “You said you were my boyfriend.”

He raised an eyebrow, not breaking stride, but his expression shifted slightly. “Yeah? So what?”

She tilted her head, the playful tone in her voice more apparent now. “Why’d you say that?”

He hesitated, letting out a slow breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low, as if he were still figuring it out himself. “Guess it felt right. I mean… I might as well be, don’t you think?”

Her heart skipped a beat, her gaze sharp as she watched his face. There was something deeper in his tone—something he wasn’t fully saying. She nudged him lightly, trying to keep the moment light even as her pulse quickened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He kept his eyes forward, but his grip on her shoulder tightened slightly. “We’re always together, right? You’re important to me, more than anyone. And I’m always here for you. Doesn’t that pretty much make me your boyfriend?”

She blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. Her mind raced to keep up with the shift in the conversation, her heart pounding in her chest. “I mean… yeah, I guess it does,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady. She could feel the weight of his words settling between them, turning the air heavy with unspoken meaning.

He stopped walking, turning to face her fully now. His dark eyes were serious, but there was a hint of something vulnerable beneath the surface. “Is that something you want?” His voice was quieter now, the intensity in his gaze making her heart flutter.

She hadn’t expected the conversation to turn this way, but now that it had, the answer was easy. She smiled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “What if I said yes?”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at her, the realization sinking in. His lips twitched into a small, relieved smile. “Then I guess that’s what I am now.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, a familiar playfulness creeping back into her tone. “Took you long enough to figure it out,” she teased, nudging him lightly. “Remember the festival a few years ago? I told you I was going to marry you when we grew up.”

He blinked, his heart stuttering at the memory. “Yeah, I remember,” he said slowly. “You were just joking, though. Right?”

She shook her head, her smile soft but steady. “Nope. I meant it.”

His eyes widened slightly, his breath catching in his throat. “Wait, seriously? You meant it?”

“Yeah,” she said, her tone light but sincere. “I’ve been waiting for you to catch on.”

For a moment, he just stared at her, his mind spinning as the realization hit him with full force. All this time, the teasing, the friendship, the unspoken feelings—“You mean to tell me we’ve been dancing around each other this whole damn time?” he asked, disbelief coloring his voice.

She laughed, the sound soft but bright, filled with the same nervous energy that fluttered in her chest. “Sure looks that way.”

He let out a slow breath, stepping closer to her, his hand reaching up to gently tilt her chin so their eyes met. His heart raced in his chest, but for once, he didn’t try to hide it. “Well, then,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the quiet of the night. “Guess we’ve got some catching up to do.”

Before Hikari could respond, he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that was soft, tentative at first, but filled with all the feelings they’d been hiding for years. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them, suspended in the quiet warmth of the moment.

When their lips finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the cool night air. Hikari smiled softly, her heart still racing, but for the first time, there was no more confusion—only certainty.

“Told you I wasn’t joking,” she whispered, her voice playful but filled with truth.

He chuckled, his tension finally easing as he smiled back at her. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Guess you did.”

He pulled back slightly, his breath still warm against her lips. When their eyes met again, there was a softness in his gaze that hadn’t been there before—a quiet warmth, something that felt like relief and understanding all at once.

For a moment, they simply stood there, the quiet of the night settling around them, the tension and uncertainty finally replaced by the steady thrum of something new, something solid and certain.

Her heart fluttered, her cheeks still warm under his gaze, but even as the thrill of the kiss lingered, there was something else she wanted. Something quiet and familiar. It wasn’t about more words or declarations—it was about being close to him, in the way she always had been, but now with a deeper certainty.

“Keisuke?” she whispered softly, her hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

“Yeah?” His voice was softer now, the usual edge smoothed by a gentleness he rarely let anyone else see. The pulse under her hand was strong, calm, a rhythm that steadied her own.

She hesitated, just for a moment, before letting her thoughts spill out. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but there was no misunderstanding. She wasn’t asking for more than they already had—she just wanted him there, beside her, like always. His presence, his warmth. The safety she felt when she was with him, but now with the quiet knowledge that they both felt it.

“I sleep better when you’re with me,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper, but heavy with meaning.

A soft smile formed on his lips. He remembered those nights—when she’d come to his window after a bad dream and end up nestled beside him, finding peace in the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle. “Of course.”

They didn’t need to say anything else. The understanding between them was complete, comfortable in its simplicity. Together, they made their way back to her apartment, slipping through the window into her room as the night wrapped around them like a quiet cocoon.

She led him through the window and back into her room, the familiar space welcoming them both with its soft, muted comfort. She kicked off her shoes and peeled off her hoodie, letting it drop to the floor as she crawled into bed, folding the covers back to make space for him.

He stood at the edge for a moment, his gaze flicking between the bed and Hikari’s expectant expression. She raised an eyebrow, her tone half-teasing, half-impatient. “Keisuke, you’ve done this a hundred times. Get your ass in here already.”

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head as he kicked off his shoes and slid in beside her. The familiar ease of it settled over them both as she scooted closer, her head naturally resting against his chest, her body fitting along his side. His arm wrapped around her without a second thought, pulling her close.

“This is better,” she murmured, her fingers tracing lazy little patterns across his chest, the soft intimacy lulling her into drowsiness. It wasn’t just about the kiss—it was about the comfort of knowing that, after everything, they would always end up here. Together.

He hummed in agreement, his hand resting lightly on her back, feeling her warmth seep into him. His heart was still racing from the kiss, from the shift in their relationship, but there was also a calmness in everything finally having settled into its rightful place.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Hikari shifted again, nestling even closer. “I really do sleep better with you,” she whispered, her voice soft, already thick with the pull of sleep.

His hand moved to her hair, stroking it lightly, his touch soothing. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Her voice was barely audible now, almost lost in the quiet of the room. “Because… I feel safe with you,” she murmured, her words simple but carrying the weight of everything she felt for him. “Like nothing bad can happen when you’re here.”

His heart tightened, a warmth blooming in his chest. He let her words settle over him, wrapping around him with the same comfort he knew he gave her. For a guy who’d spent so much of his life fighting, the realization that he could be someone’s safe place—it made him feel stronger, and softer, all at once.

He didn’t reply right away, just kept running his fingers through her hair, letting the silence settle around them, filling in all the spaces they didn’t need to name.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured finally, his voice a low whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiled softly against his chest, her breath evening out as sleep claimed her. He stayed awake a little longer, listening to the gentle rhythm of her breath, letting his own heartbeat slow to match it. The night outside was quiet, the city’s hum distant, like a lullaby carrying them into dreams.

He tightened his arm around her, his eyes drifting shut as he let himself relax. And as he fell asleep, he knew with a certainty he hadn’t felt before—this was where he belonged. Right here, beside her.

[infernalrevenge]

Alright, playing off of the overprotective Heisenberg. What if Reader doesn't come back and when he does go looking they are injured badly?

Damn bro you're really going for hurt, huh? I love it HAHAHAHA let's go!!!! I'm making this a drabble, I think it would be better suited for this.

(TW violence in one paragraph, because I might have gotten a little carried away with how Karl saves Reader.)

----------

Heisenberg looked up at the digital clock above his work station, turning off his equipment and tools for a moment. The rain outside had just stopped, and you weren't back yet -- there were no familiar footsteps, no calling out for him to get work done and over with... nothing but the clanking noises and thrum of machinery.

You wouldn't be out for this long, not without telling him. Something was wrong.

He immediately ventured out into the forest behind his factory, calling for his lycans to send them out as a search party. Covered more ground that way, in case you got too far. Not that he thought you would up and leave him, no. He could think of worst things.

He strained to listen for anyone calling out for help, trying to ignore the pounding in his ears as worst case scenarios crept into his head. If all he could hear were the growls of those damn lycans, the leaves rustling in the wind, and the snap of a twig underneath his feet -- where did you fit in? Surely, you would've called out by now if you needed help. Surely... you wouldn't be...

No, now was not the time -- you were still out there. You had to be...

Almost lifeless, your torso trapped in the jaws of some damn Varcolac. That was how he found you, and he swore his blood had frozen over when he saw the life start to dim in your eyes. He might have imagined how you reached out for him just as he finally got his legs to move, smashing into the beast's side with his hammer and forcing them to drop you onto the muddy forest floor.

The rage boiling in his body burst out of him in that hard swing, grief and frustration driving him to make the animal pay for your suffering. It killed you. It fucking killed you! This thing was not going to escape alive.

If you ever asked, he couldn't tell you how much he enjoyed beating the wolf back and away from you while his lycans bit and chewed off chunks of muscle and flesh, hard pressed to find any that wasn't already smattered in blood. The crack of its bones brought a disgusting fit of satisfaction in him, and every pained growl and whimper from the pathetic thing only spurred him on even more.

He raised his weapon over his head, poised for another punishing blow, until...

"Karl..."

Somehow, your soft voice cut through the emotional whirlwind. "Y/N?"

He wasted no time in getting back to you, sheating his weapon back and kneeling down, completely in disbelief. He always knew you were a fighter -- damn well knew that you wouldn't back down on life this easily.

As the lycans behind him finished the job, he picked you up as gently as he could, words of comfort and assurance uttered with every pained gasp and whimper from your lips. If you were more aware, you might have caught Karl with tears streaking down his face.

Everything passed like a blur, slow like it was creeping up on you -- and yet when you were finally conscious it felt too fast. You could've sworn a second ago that a snarling Varcolac had cornered you on the way back to Heisenberg's. You barely heard how you screamed as a reflex over the overload of dread and panic that filled you all at once. To say it was a lot was an understatement.

But then, here you were -- exactly where you wanted to be. Well, things looked a little different. Your bedside table was occupied with bottles you never kept there, along with bandages and tape you don't remember ever using.

Your gaze shifted to the slumped figure sitting next to your bed, a hand laid over yours. It took more effort than you realized to tighten your hold over his hand, but even that was enough to jolt him awake.

Karl wasn't wearing his glasses. You could've sworn his eyes were shiny when he turned to look at you, seemingly in disbelief. He had been by your side for days, changing your bandages and calling a doctor in every so often to check up on you. He hardly gave a damn that some village commoner was allowed in his factory -- he wasn't going to take a chance when it came to you. Not again. You had to stay alive, you had to wake up eventually. He was prepared to wait weeks for you, months, years, however long it took.

He just needed you back.

Things were quiet between you for a while, Karl still in shock as he helped you sit up and offered you a glass of water for your dry throat. He was the first one to speak up.

"You've been out for a few days, in case you were wondering. It's Friday today."

You remembered going out into the village on Tuesday. You stayed quiet, trying to process all this new information, especially now that you were actually in the right headspace to.

You weren't really sure what to say, if you should say anything at all. He seemed to be at a loss too, you can't even begin to imagine what he must be feeling. Anger? Relief? An overwhelming mix of both?

"I'm... glad you're okay." But at least he managed to say something.

Were you supposed to say sorry, that you weren't more careful (you probably should have been)? Tell him you're glad to see him too (you were)? You knew you wanted to say something though...

"Is this the part where you say 'I told you so'?" you finally said, voice still hoarse, an edge of sarcasm in your soft tone.

Part of you would rather deflect from the trauma you just went through -- you basically just came out of a fucking coma. You ought to take things one step at a time. Right now, you really were just glad to be with Karl again.

Speaking of Karl... he seemed to be at a loss for words. His lover just woke up from what could have been a life-threatening experience -- no, it was a life-threatening experience -- and that's the first thing you say? He started blinking in confusion, mouth hung open, and you were tempted to reach out and close it for him and make some comment about catching flies. Instead, he started...

Chuckling.

"Oh yeah, absolutely, I told you to be fucking careful!" he replied, smug as ever. There's the Karl you knew.

You shoved at his arm weakly, "No, this is the part where you're supposed to say 'All that matters is that you're back and you're safe," you retorted with a small smile, making a poor impression of his voice and accent.

He huffed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes. There's the Y/N he knew. Tears started rolling down his cheeks, barely even noticing it as he looked over you with such fondness and joy. You were alive, and here, and he wasn't sure what god out there made that happen but goddamn, it would have made a believer out of him if he knew.

"You need to rest up, alright, sugar?" He laid a gentle hand on your forehead, pushing your hair back and out of your eyes.

You gave a small nod and puckered your lips comically -- a silent plea for a kiss. The man only rolled his eyes and gave you a peck on the lips. "You won't leave, right?"

"No. Never."

[duns-writes]

Paging @ubernoona and anyone else who likes good (mostly) soft Steddie fanfic...

This will be chapter 1 of my as-yet-untitled 1990s Steddie fic. I'm working on getting an AO3!

CWs: brief mentions of serious injury and injury rehabilitation; mentions of Chrissy's death; mentions of social isolation and Satanic Panic.

Chapter 1: Let Me Live

It's something he thought he'd never say.

Even with his usual optimism, even with his dumb belief in the light side of life, he'd always been convinced that he was one of life's punching bags. That he deserved all he got (except for the whole screaming-mob-bullshit).

But right here? Right now?

He can't believe his luck. Because Eddie Munson's life is...good. Real good. He has a job he loves, and a goddamn house, and a bike, and a moderately successful band. In the morning, or the evening, or whenever his shifts start, he ties back his hair, and puts on his scrubs, and goes to help. He gets to help, and the town just lets him.

It had taken another fucking year for him to graduate, and another for the town to stop seeing a demon every time they looked at him. There were still people who crossed the street, or hovered while he had his hands on their loved ones, but his name was clear. Had been since Hop and Joyce and Nancy had found out that Jason had 'really happened' to Chrissy...which was a total fucking lie, but one he was happy to keep up.

He'd used the little bit of hush money from the police department to put towards community college; he'd discovered that Ritalin helped him focus real good, in a happy accident, and he'd managed to claw his way back to a 2.9 GPA over the six months left. Math still fucking sucked, but he'd discovered a talent for biology and (ha) chemistry. Worked his way through in the factory alongside his uncle, and managed to get an associate's degree.

Dustin, at college for a social work degree, had needled him to apply for the next year and "do what you really wanna, Eddie! You got a chance, you can take it! Apply or I'll come and steal your goddamn D20s, you know I will-".

It had been the kick in the balls he needed, bossy little shit. He'd put in an application after a straight week of work around his clock-ons. Got a letter three weeks later, which started with the words, "We are delighted to offer you a place at interview..." and just about knocked him on his ass. Wayne had looked up at him and pulled him in to a bonecracking hug, and he'd sworn a tear had glistened in the corner of his eye.

He'd walked in in one of Hop's borrowed dress shirts and a pair of itchy suit pants (swiped from the miscellany box in the locker room). And a pair of brand fuck new boots, courtesy of Joyce.

God, that woman was a fucking miracle.

In the months of recovery after the Upside Down, Joyce had looked after him like she was his own mother. Which she sorta was now, he supposed. She'd held the handles of his wheelchair as he'd gotten walking again (when one of the Party wasn't there). She'd cooked him the more expensive, lighter things that his shredded stomach could handle, and waved Wayne away when he tried to pay her. His new clothes, all the things he liked, arrived at the trailer every Wednesday morning, freshly washed and ironed. She'd even recreated his battle vest with patches the twerps and mini-twerps had got by mail.

He'd taken to going for breakfast with her on a weekday morning once Jonathan had left for college, and El had him as an emergency number for any shit going down at parties. God, she was 17 now. 17, and he was 26.

...Fuck.

So he'd walked in to the interview for the nursing degree year, hair tied up and the back of his neck prickling. No rings, tatties covered, nervous as fuck. Hop had cornered him before the drive to Indianapolis and forcefully reminded him that he had an interview for a reason. Wayne had clapped him on the shoulder and mumbled 'Look smart, kid.'

He'd nearly thrown up while he was following the reception lady through the halls, and shifted on his feet as she opened the door.

The interviewers had smiled at him. Smiled at him, and called him Eddie, and said that his letter had sounded like he was 'one of life's helpers'. He'd gone shy, for fucksakes, not used to the compliment. They'd said they were looking for candidates with life experience, which (they joked gently) he had in spades. And then something had caught his eye.

The third interviewer had a blouse, with the sleeves rolled up. And a tattoo. Of the tab. For Master Of Puppets.

And he'd relaxed, just a little. The interview had gone so damn well they'd offered him a scholarship from their hardship fund.

It had been the first time anyone had said they really wanted him and he'd believed it.

So here he was. Eddie the metalhead, Eddie the DM, Eddie the son, the big brother, the ER nurse. Helping out and dispensing the right drugs for people and getting paid for it. More money that he'd ever seen in his life, and a tiny part of him that could say he was worth something.

(And a boyfriend. Fuck, a really cute boyfriend.)

[narutogwriting]

A Kunai is Not a Knife

⋇✦ Pairing

Kakashi Hatake x Reader

⋇✦ Genre

fluff; one shot

⋇✦ CW

none

⋇✦ Length

1.6k

⋇✦ Request by @kakashiswilloffire : can I request kakashi or shikamaru trying and failing to cook dinner for a gn!reader? like never used a knife that wasn't a kunai but wants to do something nice for their partner?

Kakashi was a more than capable shinobi. Son of the white fang, he was a legend in his own right. Being one of the youngest ninja to graduate the academy at age five, he went on to become a chunin at just age six. By the time of the third ninja war, Kakashi was a jonin, trusted to lead his own team.

He was Kakashi of the Sharingan, the copy cat ninja. Kakashi joined the ANBU, was the third Hokage’s right hand man for a time, and feared across the nations.

He was strong, he was intelligent, he was good with a kunai.

But for the life of him, Kakashi could not use a food knife.

“Shit shit shit,” he cursed, shoving his now bleeding thumb in his mouth, tasting the metallic on his tongue.

With his free hand, he grabbed the remote, pausing the cooking show he was watching that was attempting to teach him how to make dinner. It was a little out of his league as a person that survived mostly on takeout, but Kakashi had been optimistic and confident in his abilities.

Because really, how hard could cooking be?

And yes, okay, he absolutely could activate his sharingan, watch the cooking show--memorizing every meticulous movement of the chef on the television--and prepare the most decadent meal you’d ever tasted all from the comfort of your home.

But at this point, it was a matter of pride.

Kakashi was a grown man. He could cook dinner for his girlfriend. It really shouldn’t be this hard.

That’s what he told himself as he sucked on his stinging thumb. He’d tried to chop the vegetables as quickly and diligently as the chef had done and subsequently cut into his finger. Luckily it was a superficial injury, something he would forget about in the next ten minutes, but the point stood that there was no reason he should be so *bad at this.

It was a knife for god’s sake; Kakashi was basically born holding one. Given they were different tools for very different purposes, but when it came down to it, a knife was a knife. Or so he thought.

Sighing, Kakashi glanced at the clock. You’d be off your shift soon and then heading home. It was your ninth consecutive shift at the hospital. A small factory fire left many injured--thankfully not fatally--and so you had been putting in overtime to make sure the patients were taken care of and your coworkers were not left stranded without help.

You took your work very seriously, and Kakashi loved and appreciated that about you. You were such a hard worker, and it made Kakashi proud to call you his. But as such, you’d been obviously exhausted, spending all your time home asleep, and Kakashi was sure you weren’t taking adequate enough breaks to nourish yourself properly.

He just wanted to do something nice for you. Coming home to a nice home cooked meal and a warm bath waiting seemed like the perfect way to kick off the four days off you had coming your way.

“Alright, Kakashi. You can do this…” He muttered in an attempt to hype himself up. He picked up the aforementioned tool from hell, taking it to the sink to sanitize it of his blood.

He turned back to the onions then, pressing play on the tv and trying to dice them into tiny pieces just like the chef was doing so easily. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get them into small enough pieces. He knew you loved the taste onions provided, but didn’t like the sensation of chewing them.

It was a weird thing you were particular about, something so small it would be easy to pass over and forget about, but Kakashi knew everything about you, noticed every small quirk and committed it to memory.

Like the way you would read a book, and if a character winked, you winked instinctively as well. If someone came up and startled you, you would yell “ow” even though you weren’t hurt. You had a dimple only in your left cheek, and the only time it was visible was when you were especially happy, and when you were anxious, you’d swipe your fingers over your lips.

Kakashi noticed and loved everything about you.

Which was why he needed this damn onions to just *get smaller.* They were too big, you’d definitely taste them, and it would ruin the whole meal! He was determined to get them just tiny enough to taste without having to chew them.

“Could I juice them…?” Kakashi wondered to himself as he tossed the horrid knife on the counter in annoyance. Maybe squeezing the onions really tightly over the meal would add enough flavor.

Deciding he’d get back to those later, he grabbed another knife and pulled a pomegranate from the fridge. Kakashi never actually had a pomegranate before, and he’d only seen you eat one once or twice.

You had a thing about pomegranates; they were your favorite fruits, but you would only eat them on special occasions as a way to reward yourself--just another one of your little quirks.

So Kakashi was going to cut one open and get all the juicy seeds in a bowl for you as a special treat.

Unfortunately, because Kakshi didn’t eat pomegranates on his own and didn’t see you eat them often enough, he had no idea just how messy they could really be.

*Screw the knife,* Kakashi decided to himself. *I’m a shinobi. I can do this without that stupid thing.*

So Kakashi, in all his *genius, pulled his Kunai from his leg strap. They used to play games like this in the academy; they called it fruit ninja. The goal was to slice a fruit in the air with your kunai as concisely as possible.

Kakashi always won.

He tossed the pomegranate high in the air, ready to dice the fruit and have it up for serving. Quick as a flash of lightning, the Kunai struck through the juicy pomegranate, promptly causing it to *explode--juices and seeds and all.

And what was also unfortunate was Kakashi was moving so quickly, already prepared to slice the fruit, that his hand moved faster than his brain, and he sliced at the pomegranate three more times before he could stop himself.

Juices and seeds splattered the entire kitchen covering the counters, the cupboards, the floors, and Kakashi.

You walked in at that moment, greeted with what appeared to be a murder scene with a defeated Kakashi standing in the middle of it.

You stared in quiet shock for a moment as you took in Kakashi’s expression. You’d never seen him look so forlorn in your life. His arms were hanging idly at his side, the kunai slipping from his grasp as it clanked against the floor.

You couldn’t help it; you laughed.

Kakashi startled, eye’s flickering to you in a panic.

“Y-you’re home!” He stuttered out. “You’re early! I thought you’d be another hour or so… I was just…” He looked helplessly around the disastrous kitchen. “Just trying to make you dinner.” Kakashi sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head, disappointed with himself.

When you laughed again, he peeked one eye open, shooting a small glare in your direction. “I’m so glad you’re taking pleasure in my suffering…” He muttered dramatically.

Rolling your eyes, you sauntered over to Kakashi, throwing your arms around his neck as you grinned up at him. “You know, I’m a little relieved,” you teased him with a smile. “I thought that you were good at *everything. It’s nice to know you have your flaws, too.”

Behind his mask, you could practically see Kakashi’s pout.

Placing a kiss on his cheek, you pulled back to survey the damage. “I’m sorry; I have to ask… I know pomegranates are messy, but what the hell happened here?”

With a groan, Kakashi shook his head, finally moving to grab a rag. “I… I played fruit ninja with the pomegranate.”

“You… what?”

“I played fruit ninja. With the pomegranate.”

“What does that mean?”

“I threw the pomegranate.”

“You threw the pomegranate?”

“I threw the pomegranate. Then I sliced it.”

“With your kunai?”

“With my kunai.”

“You threw the pomegranate and then you sliced it with your kunai?”

“That’s correct.”

You once again burst into laughter. You couldn’t help it! The whole idea was so ridiculous and especially coming from Kakashi.

He groaned again before you wrapped your arms around him. Reluctantly, he returned the gesture. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever tried to do for me.” You giggled. “Now… Can you teach me how to play?”

And so that’s how the rest of your night went. It wasn’t the way Kakashi had planned for the night to go, but it was one to remember just the same. Instead of a romantic dinner and relaxing bath, the two of you made an even bigger mess in the kitchen, slicing all the fruit you could manage.

You did your best to teach Kakashi to slice and season food with a regular knife. Boiling the water was about the only thing he *didn’t mess up, but it was endearing.

Later, bellies full, laying in bed, leaving the kitchen to be cleaned tomorrow, you cuddled comfortably into Kakashi’s side, placing light kisses on his shoulder as you drifted off to sleep. Kakashi held you tightly in his arms, content. He was a capable shinobi, a legend in his own right. His accomplishments listed on and on. He couldn’t cook for shit, but he made up for it by loving you.

[lovingmyselfcore]

(and it dies) a million little times

Part 1 of 2:

For you I would ruin myself

I have to post something so I still feel like I'm accomplishing things while I write (what was going to just be the other half of this) the second part of this. And also while I wait for inspiration so strike for Protect You or Skate Into My Heart because I promise I haven't given up but I have commITMENT ISSUES LEAVE ME ALONE

ANYWAY this is for@the-love-yourself-journal (or I guess @perseusjackson-jasongrace) who is the literal queen of Jercy idc. She got me to ship them in the first place so thanks babe

Ps Percy isn't white because canon Percy isn't white fight me

It felt wrong, hiding such a secret from her. He and Annabeth had always been honest with each other, it was why they had been drawn together from the moment they met.

She was definitely the best marriage option he had seen. Despite that, despite being able to converse with each other in a way that most married couples they knew could not, there was something missing.

When he’d met the blonde-haired boy, he realized what it was.

Percy had struggled his entire life with this. This sickness. It had always been drilled into his mind that people experiencing what he was experiencing was wrong, sinful, in fact. So he never spoke of it. Never spoke of being attracted more to the boy next door than the girl. Never spoke of the fact that aside from his wedding night, years ago, he’d never had sex. He couldn’t. Not with her. Not with any her.

Laughing blue eyes, annoyingly perfect teeth.

He couldn’t tell her. At best, she’d laugh, then ignore it. At worst, she’d tell everyone, and he couldn’t imagine what would happen to him then.

A horrific death on the street, most likely, followed by a long, agonizing stay in Hell for his sins.

A small, faded scar on his upper lip from his childhood.

Percy was sitting at his desk in his office, pretending to work while actually waiting for him to appear. As always before he actually showed up, Percy’s mind ran rampant. His own brain spat insults at him, his gut twisted at what he was doing. What he was doing to Annabeth. His heart screamed at him for not being able to stop himself, from not fighting harder to go back to being in love with Annabeth, despite knowing he’d never been. His soul longed for its other half.

The way his nose would scrunch when he laughed, the laugh only Percy could draw out of him.

Percy shifted in his chair. His tie was too tight around his neck, he was going to suffocate. Maybe he should. The clock continued ticking, as it always did.

The feel of his hands, on his face, his hips, his back.

“He is here to see you, Mr. Jackson.”

“Send him in.” Voice professional, practiced, despite the lurch in his gut. His brain, his heart, his soul all screamed louder, arguing their own points. Waging their violent war within him.

As always, the sight of him quieted them all.

Percy stood, adjusting his tie, and made his way over to the man leaning against his now closed door. His throat bobbed as Percy approached.

Percy lifted a hand and traced that scar, his voice barely above total silence, “I’ve missed you.”

Jason Grace’s breath was hot on his hand. His voice matched Percy’s, “You will be my ruination.”

“You are already mine.” Then Percy lunged forward, capturing his lips.

Looks like his soul had won this one. Again.

~~~~~

Piper McLean fidgeted uncomfortably with the hem of her skirt. She’d ruined many perfectly good skirts like this. Sitting. Waiting.

“Sooner or later you’re going to completely unravel one of those.” Piper looked up and was met with gray eyes. The same gray eyes that had been staring at her all day. She’d been staring right back.

“The children’s break is short,” Piper murmured back, standing from her stool.

“Indeed,” Annabeth replied, moving forward to take Piper’s hands.

“What are we doing?” Piper’s voice was hoarse, scratchy. “We have husbands.”

“Indeed.” Was all Annabeth said again, her grip on Piper’s hands tightening.

“I love Jason,” Piper said, mostly to herself.

Annabeth’s lips pursed, “I love Percy.” She took another step forward, Piper was almost completely pressed against her teaching desk. She dropped Piper’s hands to cup her face, and Piper’s eyes fluttered closed in response. “But not like I love you.”

Piper opened her eyes, “We are going to destroy each other.”

“I would gladly destroy myself for you, moya solnishka.”

“Don’t you feel bad?” The distress in Piper’s voice forced Annabeth to pull back. Her eyes held a level of concern that made Piper’s breath catch.

“I do,” She conceded after a moment of silence, “For lying to Percy. For lying to everyone in my life. For having to hide you. For having to hide us. But I do not feel bad for loving you.” Her voice held a note of desperation, she was begging Piper to understand. “Do you?”

Piper didn’t respond for a beat too long, Annabeth pulled further away, her face flushed.

Their time was up, the laughter of the children echoed through the schoolhouse as they returned.

“I’m sorry,” Piper said.

Annabeth shook her head, “No, Piper. I’m sorry.” Her eyes were miserable, “Forgive me.”

For what? Piper tried to ask but the lump in her throat stopped her.

“I have ruined you,” Annabeth said simply. “I am forcing you to go along with my sins.” Her back was straight, her face was empty, but Piper could see how hard she was fighting to keep it that way.

Piper shook her head but Annabeth didn’t see it, she was walking out of the door already.

Oh, gods. What had she done?

~~~~~

“How was your day?” Jason asked his tone the same forced lightness it had been for months.

“It was good! Nothing out of the ordinary.” Her tone was the same.

Jason nodded from his seat at the couch, “Good. That’s very good.”

“What about you?” Piper’s hands were shaking as she laid the plates on the table.

“My day was the same,” Jason said as he slid into a chair at the table.

Piper looked at him for a long moment and came to a decision.

“Jason?” She asked, clutching her fork tightly.

“Yes?” He looked up from his plate.

“I would like to visit a friend after dinner.”

Jason nodded, “Of course. I’ll invite over one of my coworkers while you’re gone.”

As they resumed their meal, they seemed lighter than they had all evening.

~~~~~

Piper knew she couldn’t very well just appear on Annabeth’s doorstep, so after she washed the evening dishes she called her.

Her fingers were heavy as she slid the ring to dial the numbers she had long ago memorized.

Piper’s hopes were answered when Annabeth was the one to pick up the phone.

“Annabeth,” She was breathless. “I-” She remembered Jason and her voice dropped low, “I need to see you.”

Annabeth was speechless and Piper wished she could see her face, “May I see you?”

Annabeth’s voice was just as low with an edge Piper couldn’t name, “Yes. Yes. Meet me.”

She didn’t have to say where. Piper knew. The place they’d always meet at. That secret place, filled with their sin. Their secrets. Their agonized love.

Piper hurriedly stuck the phone back in its place and pulled her coat over her shoulders. She kissed Jason on the cheek and was out the front door before he could respond.

~~~~~

Jason sat, bouncing his leg until Piper had been gone for long enough. (It may not have even been long enough, it was just until he could not wait any longer.)

He raced to the phone and dialed the number engraved on his heart.

“Hello?” Percy asked. Thank god. Jason hadn’t thought of a decent excuse to give Annabeth if she’d been the one to answer.

“Can you get away tonight?” Jason asked.

Percy waited for a beat, as if in thought, before responding. “Yes, I can.”

Jason smiled, “Piper is out for the evening. You could come here.”

“I’m on my way.” Jason laughed at how quickly the words fell out of his mouth and the hurried click signifying he hung up.

~~~~~~

Annabeth trailed her lips up the column of Piper’s throat, and breathed deeply through her nose, “Is that a new perfume?” They were in their spot, a dark, shadowy corner in between two factories, hidden away from the rest of the world.

Piper dug her fingers into Annabeth’s shoulders, “Yes,” She knew what Annabeth wanted to ask, but knew she wasn’t going to put Piper in that place. “It’s for you.”

Annabeth froze and pulled an inch away from her spot on Piper’s jaw. “It smells good,” Her voice was hoarse and she resumed her ministrations along Piper’s jawline.

“Annabeth, about this morning-” Annabeth cut her off, shaking her head.

“No. It’s alright, sweetheart. You don’t need to apologize for your feelings, ever.”

“The rest of society would disagree.”

Annabeth understood her meaning and ducked her head to hide her face. “How long can we keep doing this?” Desperation.

“I don’t know,” Piper wrapped her arms around the other girl’s shoulders and pulled her flush against her.

Piper breathed deeply, feeling the warmth of Annabeth’s body, a stark contrast to the metal of the factory wall at her back. “All we can do is live in the moment.” Piper pulled Annabeth’s face away from her neck. “Damn the rest to hell.”

Annabeth nodded, “Damn the rest to hell.” Then they were kissing again.

~~~~~~~

When the doorbell rang Jason raced to answer it, feeling like an excited puppy.

Percy was leaning against one of the pillars on the porch. He was beautiful; Jason had yet to see a time where he wasn’t. Shining green eyes, so painfully alive, that black hair Jason knew he frequently fought with to make it ‘work appropriate’. The lean, toned body that Jason often found himself staring at, or thinking of.

Percy was surveying the neighborhood, the picture of unruffled aside from the tightness in his lips. When he heard Jason open the door, that tightness vanished, replaced instead by the grin that Jason had fallen in love with in the first place.

Whoa. Reel that back in. Calm down, Grace. No love here. Just a drug that always gave him the high he needed. No love. That makes it too serious. This is harmless fun. Well, not harmless.

“Jason?” Percy interrupted his spiral and Jason realized he’d been staring silently, that he hadn’t let Percy inside.

He shook his head, “Sorry.” He stepped back, opening the door wider. Percy walked in and threw himself on the couch, looking perfectly content and at home. As if what they were doing wouldn’t result in pain, physical and emotional.

He could always go back, he reminded himself. There was always an out. He was addicted to the poison that was Percy Jackson, but he could always escape.

The click of the door closing was a death sentence.

He could always get out, right?

~~~~~~~

It had been a few days since Annabeth and Piper had seen each other, the two women were teachers at the same school, yet they always seemed to miss each other. In the hallways, the break room, before and after classes, they could never catch more than fleeting glances and the swish of hair and hips around a corner. Annabeth was determined to change this.

She saw a flash of brown hair that she immediately registered as Piper, glancing at the clock to make sure she had enough time before her students were expecting her, she nearly sprinted after the other girl.

Piper was leaning against the wall when Annabeth found her, grinning. Her eyes, shards of multicolored glass Annabeth always found herself drowning in, were glittering in the harsh light. Annabeth stalked closer and Piper’s grin didn’t fade.

“Oh no,” She drawled, leaning enough to rest a hand in the curve of Annabeth’s waist, attempting to tug her forward. “You caught me.” Annabeth couldn’t resist Piper’s smile and met it with her own, the smile she only gave Piper. “What will I, this poor damsel, do?”

This was risky. This was really fucking risky. They were basically out in the open, where another teacher or staff member or even the students could easily find them.

Piper reached up and drew the pad of her finger against that crease in Annabeth’s brow and Annabeth knew she was done for. Piper smiled, this one soft and adoring, and Annabeth melted through the floor.

Annabeth gave up on trying to stay as unaffected as possible, pressing her lips to Piper’s. Piper pressed herself closer as if she was trying to mold them into one person. The soft, smooth contours of Piper against Annabeth’s sharp, hard edges of Annabeth was like some kind of poetry. It was probably a metaphor about who they were as people, blah blah blah. She didn’t have time to think about damn metaphors. Not while Piper was here, kissing her like she actually wanted this. Like she’d do anything to keep this. Annabeth knew it wasn’t true, knew Piper wouldn’t ruin her life for this. (She didn’t blame her, but it was nice to pretend sometimes)

Piper smiled into the kiss and mumbled, “This is nothing like how the fairytales normally go.” Annabeth let out a surprised laugh.

Piper pulled away, staring unflinchingly into Annabeth’s eyes, the storms she was responsible for keeping at bay. “Gods,” She turned her head and Annabeth had no idea where this was going with this. “This is better than any of those fairy tales.” Then she moved, winding her hands into Annabeth’s hair, and kissed her again.

Gods, she’d fallen for this girl. She had no idea when it had happened. Maybe 30 seconds ago, maybe the first time they’d met, three years ago. Maybe it was when Percy was on business trips, which meant that Annabeth could work without anyone to make her sleep, eat or anything ‘healthy’ and Piper would come over. Make her take breaks from her work. Listen to Annabeth rant about things she knew she didn’t understand. Annabeth had so many plans, to escape this hell town, fight for her rights, build something permanent somewhere she loves with someone she loves and be unafraid to live. She also had even more impossible dreams; to build something. Piper humored her, always listened to her, attention never wavering. It was more than Annabeth could ever ask for.

She was more than Annabeth could ever ask for.

Annabeth pulled away, telling her as much and something flashed in those kaleidoscope eyes but she didn’t respond.

“Piper?” Hazel’s voice echoed into the hallway they were in. Piper leaped off of her, hurrying to straighten herself.

Hazel rounded the corner right as Piper and Annabeth had gotten themselves together.

The woman smiled at them and looked at Piper when she spoke, “Leo needs to see you,” Piper opened her mouth but Hazel cut her off, “I have no idea why.”

"Okay, thanks," Piper said, definitely too out of breath for it to be anything but suspicious. Piper hesitated a second longer, fighting to not look back at Annabeth but finally, she walked off.

Annabeth smiled awkwardly at Hazel and the other girl grinned but it quickly turned somber, "I don't know what you're doing, Annabeth." She shook her head, "I don't want to know. But I want you to know this," She stepped forward and clasped the other girl's hands in hers. "I care about you. I care about Piper. Be careful, please." Her wide gold eyes were begging, "Be careful, Annabeth."

"I'm trying," Annabeth tried to say but it came out a choked whisper. "I'm trying."

Hazel nodded and leaned forward so they were touching foreheads. "I'm scared for you."

Annabeth wanted to reassure her, but the words got caught in her throat. They both knew Annabeth couldn't promise anything.

~~~~~

Percy was staring at Jason.

This wasn't a rare occurrence, the opposite, actually. Percy could often be found staring at Jason.

But there was something about Jason Grace under the moon and her stars that was absolutely breathtaking.

His head was tilted back, eyes closed, breathing deeply, a small smile on his lips. The starlight seemed to wrap around him, shielding him from the world, announcing him as one of them. His blonde hair was damp from their earlier shower and the moonlight danced through the silky strands. Gods, Percy thought, taking him in, he's ethereal.

He was leaning back on his hands, ankles crossed over the edge of his porch.

They were in Jason's backyard, sharing a smoke; Percy took a long drag, trying to ground himself. Piper would surely be back soon, he didn't have much longer. He needed to come back to earth and distance himself from the star that was Jason Grace.

When Jason's eyes fluttered open and he turned those crystal-blue masterpieces on him, his smile growing into something wide and soft and fond, Percy knew he was done for. Fuck coming back to earth.

Jason reached over, and plucked the cigarette from between Percy's lips, and brought it to his own. He leaned back to stare at the sky again and Percy leaned sideways until his head was pillowed in Jason's lap.

Jason kept one hand on the deck to prop himself up and ground the cigarette out, dropping it to comb his free hand through Percy's hair.

"We should leave," Percy said suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence.

Jason's hand stilled briefly. "What?"

"Leave town, together."

"Where would we go?" He didn't sound angry (thank the gods), he kept his voice soft, but Percy could hear that note of disbelief.

"Anywhere," Percy replied and Jason huffed a laugh above him.

"That's not much of a plan. Besides, we have lives here."

"You're all I need," Percy said, way too sincerely, tracing a pattern on Jason's knee with his index finger.

Jason's hand stilled again and Percy cursed himself and everything that existed to make him say that. Now I've scared him away, Percy thought bitterly and got off Jason's lap.

Jason was staring at him with a look Percy couldn't decipher, his lips parted slightly. Percy wanted to kiss him; this wasn't the time to kiss him. Keep it together.

"Perce-"

"Jason!" Piper's voice carried out the back door and wrapped around the two of them like a vice.

Jason went considerably pale and Percy stood up. "I'll see you whenever I see you?" Percy said.

Jason just nodded, still staring at him.

Percy opened the backdoor and stepped inside, saying a brief 'hello' and 'goodbye' to Piper before finally making it back to his car.

He slammed his hands on the hood and cursed, "Stupid, Jackson. That was stupid." he opened the car door with considerably more force than necessary and sat down heavily. "Fucking idiot." And now he had to go home to Annabeth and pretend nothing was wrong. Great.

~~~~~

It started with the notes. Sticky notes with slurs scrawled on them (against his race, his orientation, anything they could get a hand on), in horrible handwriting, stuck to his desk at work. Jason didn't mention any, but when he took his coat off and draped it on Percy's couch, one fell out, crumpled as if Jason had furiously shoved it in his pocket.

Percy had picked it up, saw what was written there, and knew that this wasn't a coincidence. Someone knew. Someone knew about them and wasn't very happy about it.

He'd briefly wondered if it was Annabeth, but no, she didn't seem to be angry at him or disgusted, but she had been colder lately. When the notes started appearing in places that weren't as public as his desk, Percy got more concerned.

He still hadn't talked to Jason about it; the notes and what had transpired on Jason's porch either.

They'd elevated too. Notes in his car, calling him a disgrace to his family and god. But Percy wasn't as worried as he probably should've been. After all, this person was hiding behind ink and paper, if they had something to say, they could do it to his face.

But when they started threatening him, Percy finally spoke to Jason about it.

"Have you been getting notes?" He asked.

Jason was sprawled on Percy's bed, sans shirt, arm thrown over his eyes as if shielding him from the light.

Percy himself was sprawled next to Jason, head on his chest, legs twined together.

Jason peered down at him, blinking wearily. His glasses were sitting on the side table. "What?"

"Notes," Percy said as if this explained everything. "That are calling you-" He swallowed and Jason's eyes tracked the movement.

"Yeah," Jason said finally. "I haven't been too concerned." A lie. If Percy knew Jason at all (and he did) the other boy had been worrying himself to death over this, afraid to tell anybody, panicking and overthinking alone. The thought made Percy's chest ache.

"I wasn't going to mention it," Jason said.

"Me either, but this recent one," He trailed off, already doubting if he should be worrying Jason over this. But it did technically involve him.

Percy pushed off of Jason and the other boy made a whining noise in the back of his throat. Percy grinned as Jason flushed in embarrassment.

Percy pulled the crumpled note out of his discarded jacket and read aloud to Jason, who was still on the bed, "I know all about your illicit affairs-"

"Oh, how proper."

Percy snorted, "Tell me about it." He cleared his throat, "Anyway. -with Jason Grace." Jason stiffened. They knew his name. "If you don't do what I want I will tell Annabeth and Piper all about it. And maybe more than just the two of them, too.”

“Mhmm. And we believe them?”

“I’m not sure,” Percy said tossing the note onto the nightstand and belly-flopping onto the bed next to Jason.

“If you did, you wouldn’t be here,” Jason said, practically.

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I know you.”

Percy smiled, "Yeah, I guess you do."

Jason smiled back, only for a few seconds before his face fell; Percy felt his heart jump to his throat. "What are we going to do?"

"You already have an idea," Percy said, staring at him.

"You're not going to like it."

Percy sighed, "Let's hear it."

"We can't see each other."

Percy shot to his feet. "No! I'm not letting some heathen," He pointed angrily at the note. "Bully me into staying away from the man I love."

Jason went deathly still and Percy's brain finally caught up to what just happened.

"'Man you love'?" His voice was quiet and Percy didn't know how to read that.

"Yeah," Percy whispered. "Yes."

Jason wasn't looking at him and every second that passed, Percy felt his heart chipping away.

"I-" Jason swallowed and wet his lips. "I love you." His voice was hushed as if he was scared to be heard.

Percy stared at him for a beat of bated breath before lunging at him. Jason laughed as his back collided with the mattress.

Jason held Percy's face in his hands and looked him over, drinking everything in before kissing him.

The notes could wait.

[moonlit-imagines]

Next of Kin (Part 2)

Birds of Prey x Sionis-Zsasz!reader

warnings:

a/n: HDTVTVRBEHS IM SO SORRY I COMPLETELY ABANDONED THAT STORY OH MY GOD im gonna be honest with you guys. its not good. i forgot the original ending i wanted.

prompt:

prologue part 1

“Boss?” You heard a henchman wake you from your slumber in your own room. Opening your eyes to complete darkness, you tried not to lose your temper.

“What the hell do you want?” You asked with a huff.

“Right, uh, you told us to tell you when we had a location on those ‘Birds of Prey’ or whatever...we do.” You ripped your sleeping mask off of your eyes and bolted out from under the satin covers.

“You do?! Where? Tell me now!” You shouted while scrambling across the room to get yourself ready for this spur of the moment fight. The blue robe you wore dropped to the ground just before you pulled on a pair of pants and continued. You had to look good for this special occasion.

“A old factory, I guess. ACE or some shit.” He shrugged, looking away respectfully as you got your clothes on.

“ACE Chemicals?” You pulled the shoulder holster over your arms and covered it with a jacket, waiting for the oaf to confirm.

“Uh, I think so.” He was basically useless, an alarm clock at best. You swiped your weapons from your nightstand and pushed past him, ready to end a few lives. It was an eye for two eyes kind of situation.

“Should I call for backup?” He followed behind you as weapons were shoved into all sorts of pockets on your person, so you did what any reasonable person would do and shot him in the foot, the sweet sound of a yelp calmed your shaky nerves.

“Did I say we should call for backup? No, so don’t ask.” He dropped to the floor as he clutched onto his injured appendage, but you just kept on walking. This was personal, you were the only one who could avenge Dad and Papa Vic.

Now you were jogging to the car and stepping on the gas the moment you sat in the driver’s seat. There was no time to lose, no time at all. It was a bit relaxing to hear Britney Spears on the radio as you cut off traffic over and over again. There was a moment of contemplation when someone honked their horn at you, and I mean contemplation of murder. You were going to murder the person honking at you.

But you didn’t have time to stop. Who knows how long those little Birds would be at the factory and how long it’d be until you caught them again. So upon arrival, you ran to the trunk and pulled out the Thompson, your lovely little submachine gun.

With that rested over your shoulder, you left the car running and walked straight into the factory. There was no telling what they were doing here, but damn all the dangers of walking into a severely damaged chemical plant. You wanted your revenge, even if you didn’t make it out of here alive. Ideally, yes, you’d live the rest of your days sleeping peacefully knowing that you put your parent’s killers down, but as long as they were gone, you’d be fine with whatever may happen.

“This is officially the final step to my breakup! This is where I became ‘Harley Quinn.’” You heard a familiar annoying voice echo through the abandoned building.

“This place is starting to creep me out...” Another voice muttered, the voice of a singer. Someone who you and your family trusted until she stabbed you each in the back. God, your blood was boiling just thinking about having relations to these cruel women. But luckily for you, you were about to return a favor.

There’s one little detail I left out, you have been carrying a single hand grenade on your person since you learned about your Dad’s cause of death. It was the perfect revenge. In your head, at least. You yanked the ring with your teeth, you just had to give it a try! But grenades don’t work like that, that’s just a trope in media to made it look badass, as if a giant explosion isn’t badass enough. So you pulled the ring with all your might, this time with your fingers, and popped the pin out. The girls had yet to notice your presence, but that was about to change.

Timing was everything here: you had to give yourself time to escape, but you couldn’t give them time to escape. Maybe ypu should have thought this through before pulling the pin.

Fuck it, toss! The Birds were standing on the grates of the second floor, so there was an alerting clink when the bomb landed.

“Oh, shit!” Harley screamed and bolted. “Run for it!” As they scattered in all different directions, you spectated in excitement. The one that killed Papa Vic, the Crossbow Killer, hopped off the platform and landed on the concrete rubble below, then the sudden force of the explosion pushed them every which way. You, too, actually.

“What the hell? Who’s here?!” Canary cried as she checked her face for cuts, finding blood on her hands. Each of you was covered in dirt and grime, blood and bruises.

“Everyone okay?” The cop asked her company and heard a bundle of groans from the pack, could be worse?

Oh, it could be worse...especially once you revealed yourself to the little ragtags.

“Hi there!” You introduced. “A few of you remember me, huh? Hey, Harley, Miss Lance.” You waved with a pistol in your hand and Papa Vic’s sharp gift in the other.

“‘Course you’re here for revenge.” Harley blew a raspberry as she crossed her arms, but the rest of the group just stared at you. “You’re dads started it.”

“Wait, they were together?” Cass asked the wrong question at the wrong time.

“Shut up, kid. Love you.” Harley pushed the child out of the way and stepped forward. “So ya wanna get back at us, huh? Got it all planned out? Ya don’t have the discipline, sweetie. That’s what did your dads in.”

“Quiet!” You shouted with a haunting similarity to Roman. “Listen, I don’t need to kill all of you. I’d really love to, but I won’t.” You explained as you paced around shifting bricks. “Harley and the crossbow girl are who I really want. I thought about offing the songbird for being a narc, but if she flies away now, maybe I’ll let her go.”

“My name is Huntress.” The girl in distasteful purple makeup growled, you just had to laugh.

“I don’t give a shit what your name is, I just care how you die.” You held the blade out for her to see. “Stab my Papa through the neck, I do the same. It’s only fitting I use the knife he gave me to do it. Poetic, huh?”

“I wasn’t even the one that killed him! Technically it was the kid, tell ‘em!” Said the Joker’s ex-lady.

“Wow, thanks for throwing me under the bus!” Cassandra threw her hands up and you pointed your bedazzled gun at Harley’s chest. “Shit, look out!”

“It might not be a grenade, but it still goes ‘boom.’” You slowly tightened your finger around the trigger, but ducked and missed when a brick came flying towards you, courtesy of Little Miss Trouble.

“Fuck’s sake!” You screamed and came running towards the other target, who flipped you over her back, causing you to land on yours. I can’t even describe the noise you made.

“I had been planning to kill Victor Zsasz for years, alright? I had every right to do so.” She went off for the team to witness. “He murdered my entire family in front of me when I was a child! Do you know what it’s like to be an orphan?!” Huntress’s voice was sharp and rough, there was a slim chance that she’d be taking any more shit today.

“Yes, you idiot.” You glared up at her while she planted a foot on either side of your torso, aiming an arrow at your head. “I was adopted by Roman and Vic after they found me on the street.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that they took everything from me.” The others simply watched the show, how could they not? Helena’s stone-cold voice was chilling.

“And what do you think you did to me?” You asked with and unsteady tone. “I’m a goddamn orphan again!” You caught the back of her knee and escaped her reach for just a moment as you leveled the field by drawing your weapon once more. “I had it good before you came in and ruined it all.”

“Your fathers were the scum of the Earth, the world’s better without them.” It was a wonder how none of her team had hopped in yet, but it worked out for you. “If you thought they deserved to live, you would’ve shot me by now.”

“She’s got a point, y/n/n.” Harley chimed in, throwing you right off your rhythm. Leaving it to the psychiatrist to evaluate you during something like this. “Remember our nights at the club? I saw how controlling Romy was over ya. An’ how Vicky kept secrets. An’ how they put ya into some really uncomfortable situations an’ whatnot. I dunno what when on behind closed doors, but...admit it, y/n, it wasn’t as perfect as ya make it out ta be.”

“They did their best.” You watched each face turn to pity you, it broke you all over again. “Fuck! Fuck you guys!” You dropped your guard and pouted at how easily manipulated you could be.

“That’s more like it.” Renee chuckled as Dinah walked past her. Dinah had seen just as much as Harley, that’s why she went right up to you and took you in her arms.

“You should stick with us for a while. I promise we aren’t that bad.”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove //

[bellamyblake]

Headcanons for Bellarke working together late at night on camp stuff and being absolute IDIOTS towards each other: 

they usually end up in one of the offices attached to the main room where the council meetings happen, together, late at night, after most of the camp has had dinner and went quiet;

they love working side by side, even if sometimes they spent hours going over maps and documents, discussing things, feelings their heads grow heavy, racking their brains at how they’ll push this through Kane and her mom or wondering how, how on earth can they make it easier for their kids, for their hundred;

or whatever’s left of them anyway;

as much as Bellamy loves those nights, he also absolutely despises what they do to Clarke; she tends to spent over 20 hours without any rest and the dark circles surrounding her eyes honestly scare the hell out of him;

he’s not much better off, having done at least one if not two guard shifts but somehow he doesn’t see that as much of a burden as her working in medbay saving people or fighting over with the council for the camp buildings or the living conditions and the jobs given out at the kids; 

their kids;

when he asks her if it’s time she head to bed late on a similar cold winter night with her hunched over the maps on the metal table and him going over reports she responds with a curt, stubborn, very Clarke-like;

”I’ll sleep.”

“When?” he crosses his arms over his chest, daring her.

“When I get this done.” she doesn’t even look at him instead uses the pencil to outline another thing on the map; 

another project for a tomato garden or a medbay building or a cabin to smoke the meat for that he knows, he just knows he’ll cut the trees for, chop them and prepare;

she was the brain, he was the hands; he was the hard work; that’s all he was ever good for anyway; 

and it brings him a sense of peace too-the splinters in his hands, the cuts, bruises, his sore muscles, his bad knee aching at night, dragging him in all his glory-maybe he was a masochist but he enjoyed it, found it made his nights quieter, kept the demons at bay;

“You’ll never get it done that’s why we have council meetings.” he huffs even more annoyed.

“They’re too loud and frustrating,”

“Clarke-”

“Bellamy?” she looks up briefly and gives him a once over “Don’t play so innocent, you haven’t slept either.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Please tell me how it’s different?” she’s angry now, that angry you got when you were so tired that anything could piss you off. 

Good thing he liked pushing her buttons especially when it came to her own damn health.

“It’s different because I never slept much. On the Ark I was awake most of the night, I’m used to just a few hours, my body can handle it.” she softens at that, knows just what he means beyond the surface and imagines him-just a boy, a child really, waking every time there was even the slightest of noises to be heard in Factory, or when his baby sister cried or when he had to feed her cause his mom was at work, or when-

God so many possibilities, so many times.

He never truly got peace.

She sees the cracks in his armous and wants to kiss him.

And then slap him.

But mostly kiss him.

So she turns her head away and waves her hand “Give me an hour.”

“I’m clocking it, princess!” he warns but grabs another folder from the table before going back to the old raggedy couch and resting on it and every now and then he’d snort like a horse at her angry paper slapping. 

he knows her so damn well-she’s angry but her brain is so busy, she’s not even registering it so he goes out and comes back without she so much as lift her head in the meantime but when he brings in a plate full of stew and boiled potatoes with rosemary as well as some hot milk and chocolate she hears her stomach grown loudly-

which of course only makes the idiot smile in satisfaction.

he brings her the salt they kept in the cupboard with the coffee, sugar and tea that they used for late night evenings like this one and because he knows she loves to put too much on everything he expertly stops her by blocking her way with his palm while her eyes are pinned on a recent guard report.

She pouts, of course she does, and with her eyes she says “Just a little more.” he huffs, pulls his hand away but stops her again by snapping it out of her hand before the entire meal turned white.

“It’s bad for the eyes, you know.”

“Says mister “I have to squint to see in the near distance.” he hobbles back to the couch and falls on it dramatically.

“For the record, Miss medic, it’s also bad for the heart.”

“Says the guy with the high blood pressure!” she cuts him off and he rolls his eyes at her. It was true. 

Last year every Arkadia citizent was subjected to the mandatory yearly check ups which she was helping her mom and Jackson with as they didn’t have enough nurses or doctors in training yet. 

She had taken it lightly then, made fun of him because she knew how much he hated being in medbay, the idiot even hid when he was hurt sometimes and she had to hunt him down and force him to sit still while she patched him up, so she thought she’d just use this as a way to make fun of his weird dislike of doctors. 

Instead when her mom listened to his heart furrowing her eyebrows at what she was hearing and then she took his blood pressure and saw how high it was, it had brought her back to the ground so fast, she felt like someone punched her in the gut.

he played it off as cool and her mom promised it’s not too serious yet, probably something genetic, running from his mom’s side according to old records but she spent the next two weeks monitoring his every move until he called her off; 

she still worried; still listened closely to his heart whenever he hugged her and begged it quietly, in her mind,to keep still, to slow down, to let him live till he was ninety;

“Maybe you’re putting too much salt in your food?” she suggests trying to get rid of her cloudy thoughts;

He throws a pillow at her and she chuckles’

But all she does in return is stick her tongue out at him and wolf down her food “God for an alpha princess you eat like a pig”

“Don't make me throw a hot potato at you”

“You wouldn't!”/ Don't test me!”/ “Just eat, Clarke”/ “I would if you shut up” 

“Asshole”

“Animal”

“Old man”

“Workaholic”

“Insomniac”

“Oh my god, ARE YOU REALLY THROWING THAT AT ME!”

“YEP”she says with a smirk “Now quiet I gotra focus!” He curses under his nose and leans back.

He thinks she doesn't pay any attention to him but in fact she does, she always did. So now she peaks under her maps and finds him stretching his legs and taking off his boots, rubbing the knee he broke last winter that must be getting sore with the cold weather and then leaning back and closing his eyes.

he dozes off first, in fact he falls on the couch in a half-slumped, half-sitting way that she knows can’t be comfortable, his mouth hangs open, he drools like a child and then he snores, not too loudly, softly, like he knows he can’t bother the world with himself or his rest and his hair that’s had a rebel strike of her own falls over his forehead.

she puts down her maps and documents and leans on the chair, tilting her head, staring at him with love and adoration;

she can’t help herself but she gives herself a moment to just take him in like that-soft and at peace and then her heart bursts, she can’t command it to still, to stop-

she stands up and carefully like oh-so-many nights before, she walks over there, takes his face in her hands, rubs her thumb under his dark circles, lean over and kisses his forehead;

he groans just a little as she pushes him down but his arm falls wide open for her to fit in to his side; when she leans her head over his heart and listens to his fast thrump thrump thrump she rubs her hand over his chest and tries to sooth it;

“Take it easy” she mumbles “I need him here.”

she doesn’t register when she falls asleep, she just knows she’s warm and that’s the best feeling in the world.

[sw124]

Monster Boyfriend!Reader insert!

Female Reader! Shadow boyfriend.

[The reader is nicknames are Angel by the boyfriend and Bo by everyone else]

Another day, another chewing out by your asshole of a boss who as usual promoted the skinny collage girl over you; despite the fact you worked at this office for over five years and kept it running! In your opinion your boss was a misogynistic piece of garbage who believed all woman had the minds of toddlers, that and their only purpose was to be servants/playthings/baby factories to all men. The only reason he promoted this new girl was because he was looking for new eye candy.

It was just your boss who shared this view however, the other members of the office didn’t share their views. All of them were married and had kids, you could feel the unease when the boss made filthy jokes about someone’s daughter…especially when that daughter was only thirteen years old.

The father of this girl was your friend and neighbor Roy, he was tempted to punch his boss senseless but at the moment he couldn’t afford to. He just found out he and his wife were expecting baby number two, his wife worked from home but he always believed in having a safety net.

[Lunch break]

You sat down by Roy and Trevor, he was from accounting and pretended to be a bachelor when he actually dating a very nice young person, they preferred not to be labeled with a gender.

“Hey Bo, heard the boss yelling at ya; what was it about this time?” Asked Trevor opening his lunchbox.

“The account he assigned to the new girl was lost and he’s blaming me despite I had no part in its loss. He just wants to get on the girls good side so he can try an sleep with her…” you mumbled as you pulled out your own lunch.

You weren’t skinny, you were round with curves and a belly. This lead to many comments from your boss but you brushed them off, especially when you got home cooked lunches from your boyfriend. Today’s lunch was as beautiful as before, he got into making those character bento lunchboxes he saw on tiktok. Today’s lunch was fried chicken meatballs with rolled up omelet and little rice balls. The meatballs were decorated to look like hedgehogs, the little rice balls made to look like penguins and the omelets were speckled with green and filled with cheese.

“Lee went all out on that didn’t he?” Retorted Roy with a chuckle, his lunch was a grilled panini he ordered from the shop next door.

“He loves to cook and I love eating his cooking.” You smiled as you chowed down into his creation.

There was a small avocado salad on the side with diced raw onions and a small squirt of hotshots on it. It was a interesting combination but it actually worked out well.

You were about to dig into this salad when your boss walked in, so begins his usual walk around the tables giving comments on everyone’s choice of lunches. Mocking men who didn’t have properly made lunches by their wives or joked about being bachelors. You finished the penguin rice balls when he came your table.

“An what has this group prepared hm?” He leaned over Roy and his sandwich. “Wife not making you lunch anymore, what you two get into a fight again?”

Ugh; you hated how he smirked every time he put someone down, he looked over at Trevor. His lunch was simple homemade steak and cheese wrap his partner made.

“Huh, thats surprising; most single guys don’t know how to cook, where’d you buy that?” Trevor was about to answer but the ass turned to you and eyed your lunch. “Well what does the pig have today? Something that looks decent, bet it tastes like shit though?”

He reached for your food, Roy was the one who pulled it away from him. “Sir, need I remind you that the last time you took someone’s food the CEO of the company came down here to scold you?”

Your boss glared at him but backed off, yes he literally took someone’s food from them and was reported. He managed to play it off as a misunderstanding but it didn’t stop the CEO from chewing him out.

“Fine, let the pig eat her slop.” With that your boss left.

“Thanks Roy…” you sighed, this was going to be a long day…

[A few hours later]

Finally it was time to leave, three’o clock, you got all your things and bolted for the elevator. You made it in time too, you knew your boss came looking for stragglers to do extra work. The doors closed just as he walked into look for anyone; preferably you. But you escaped, you learned when and how to avoid him near the end of the day.

Now piled into your car you, Trevor and Roy all heading back to the same apartment building you shared. Trevor lived on the fourth floor of the apartments while you and Roy were on the second floor, he lived in the apartment across the hallway from you and your boyfriend. You said goodbye to them and walked into your apartment, the money you made was good despite your boss.

You composed yourself before hand and as you were closing the door…you saw your shadow growing, it grew larger, bulkier and once it reached a hight of 9ft…three bio-green eyes appeared; feral and happy.

“Welcome home Angel.”

His large clawed hands picked you up and cradled you in those burly arms, the term ‘broad chest’ didn’t do your darling justice. He had hair but it was so molded to his body it almost looked like a helmet minus the part that hung off. He had what you called an inverted pixie bob, he nuzzled you and peppered your cheek with little kisses. He didn’t have a visible mouth, nose or ears but that only added to his charm.

“Hi Caine, I’m so happy to be home. Lunch was soooo good, I loved those little penguins you made.”

You watched those eyes of his turn into stars as he hugged tightly, you hugged him back….oh you needed this. You needed ‘him’ right now more then anything, just him and his big arms hugging you.

“I’m making pizza tonight, I figured it’d be cheaper then buying it.” He whistled.

“Ooh that sounds good.” You whined happily.

You only had your eyes closed for a moment before you found yourself in your bedroom. He sat you on the bed and proceeded to remove your shoes, what on earth did you do to get a guy this awesome?

“Oh, so you know; Brandy called me and told me about your company throwing a family picnic!”

Right…the picnic, another excuse for that ass of a boss to mock everyone’s lifestyle and show up his wealth. You smiled at him, he loved picnics and meeting all the people you worked with. No way were you gonna say no, but that didn’t mean you weren’t gonna try and stay as far away from your boss as possible.

“Its gonna be a potluck kind of picnic so lets make something yummy together hm?” You smiled as you stood back up and changed into your comfy clothes.

He squealed with glee and whisked you back up into his arms, dinner was delicious and so was dessert. Just simple store bot gelato but still good, the two of you sitting on the couch bing watching documentaries and internet cat videos.

[two weeks later]

The weather was perfect, there was a nice light breeze and there were clouds, lots of them. White, fluffy clouds that casted shadows to shield you from the sun from time to time. Not that it was terribly hot, warm but not hot. You and Cain parked the car under a tree and got out, the company picnic was being held at the local park near the river. It was a very nice place, already you saw many of your co-workers here.

Cain had already delved into your shadow, not out of fear but it was easier to move around crowds. You already saw a few other co-workers who brought their spouses. Mark from HR was one of the few you knew who was dating someone who wasn’t human, his girlfriend was the same height as Cain but unlike Cain she was more mammalian. She was what many called a ‘wendigo’ but she had more of a wolf appearance mostly due to her skull face; her name you recalled is Sophie.

You and Mark had that in common, the two of you love large, adorable creatures that could crush you in their embraces. You watched Mark talk as Sophie filled a plate with ribs and handed them to some other co-workers. You walked over, greeted her and sat down two large bowls. One had your famous fruit salad while the other had Cain’s spicy garlic Parmesan chicken wings.

Cain was about to come out to say hello when everyone was silenced by the tapping on a microphone.

“Everyone, thank you all for coming! I’m so thrilled to see everyone’s bright faces here!”

You gritted your teeth…it was your boss, here it comes. He did this whenever possible, bringing people up and passively insulting them for whatever reason an pass it off as a joke. Well today he was bringing couples up and joking, he already had Roy up there and joked about his family. It was clear Roy wanted to punch the guy’s lights out an you didn’t blame him.

“Thanks Roy for being a great sport, up next…why our own Ms. Bo!”

Well crud..it was your turn, you felt Cain gripping your shoulder but you had no choice. You patted the invisible hand and walked up onto the stage, you saw how he leered at you.

“Well everyone, here she is Miss Bo. Where’s your boyfriend, oh I’m sorry dear I guess the rumors are true men don’t like chubby little bitches like you.”

Uh oh…now he didn’t, you watched your shadow shift and move, steadily growing behind your boss as he continued.

“Any single men out here wanna plow this porker? No? Well thats to be expected, lots of smart men know to stay away-“ the mic was yanked out of his hand, he spun around…only to be face to face with three murder colored eyes.

You reached an took the mic. “Sir, I’d like to introduce you to Cain, my beloved boyfriend of four very happy years. We met in middle school, started dating in collage. Thats all you need to know….Cain put him down please.”

You didn’t need to look, Cain had your boss by the scruff of his shirt, dangling him over the edge of the stage….he relented and sat him down; he turned and took the mic from you.

“An for the record; you call my girl anything other then her name…well..” he exposed his rarely seen mouth, inside were rows of razors ready to tear him apart.

“The last thing you’ll be seeing are these.”

You refrained from saying anything..especially about your bosses soiled trousers.

[later, after the picnic]

Back in your apartment, cuddled on the couch; sitting in his lap with a box of macarons and other sweet treats. You look up at Cain who still seemed a little mad from what he heard.

“Honey its ok, the boss got fired for what he said and we’re getting a new one, its all thanks to you.” You give him a kiss, that seemed to melt the grump off.

“Yeah, though I’m still upset that you went through all those nasty things…”

Oh no the puppy eyes…the sad ‘mama I need love’ puppy eyes. He always got his way when something happened. Last time he did this was when you had you wisdom teeth taken out and you were in pain.

“I know but you know what?”

Cain looks down at you.

“What?”

“You made it worth it, every day I’d come home to the best thing nature ever created.”

You saw stars dance in his sweet eyes as he hugged you tightly, for the rest of the night was filled again with cat videos and documentaries until the two of you slowly drifted off to sleep, you safely tucked into his loving embrace.

End.

[so you know all of this was inspired by the drawings of @semisolidmind and her monster boyfriend series oooh their sooo cute! Semi I hope you like this you inspired this!]

[xxjust-tiredxx]

Chapter Three: Love For A Gentle Criminal & School Festival!

"Eh?" Midoriya said as Mina's words echoed through his head.

"Well you're not completely fired. But we just need someone with a power-type quirk to carry Aoyama across. It will happen in the middle so you can still dance."

The greenie nodded his head. "If it can make it better then I'm in."

Mina took off her glasses. "Good. It includes you using Full Cowling and a human disco ball."

Midoriya raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "I'm listening.

                                                             . . .

Midoriya let out an exhausted breath as some of his classmates plopped on the couch. "We finally nailed practice. We're totally going to kill the festival tomorrow."

"Mina's been overworking me ever since the 'special part' she had in mind for me." Midoriya checked over the equipment, finding a frayed rope. He showed it to the class before setting it down. "I'll go buy a new rope in the morning. It would be - dangerous to use this one."

"Why not ask Yaoyorozu to make one?" Kaminari questioned.

"Yaomomo is asleep right now. She's not some factory."

"Ohhh but you can use me as your personal charger?" Kaminari shot back, making Mina whistle in innocence. He rolled his eyes at her antics turning his attention back to Midoriya. "But the festival starts at 10:00 am. Most stores open at 9:00 am."

"There's actually a hardware store 15 minutes from here that opens at 8:00 am."

"That's cutting it close..."

"Well if Midori-Bro says he'll do it, I believe him! It's the manly thing to do!" Kirishima grinned giving a thumbs up.

Toru yawned stretching her arms. "We should go to bed now. The faster we go to sleep the faster the next day rolls by."

Mina smiled tightening her fist. "Alright then! Let's crush the competition! PLUS...!"

"ULTRA!"

"OI! URUSAI! ( Shut up! ) ! I'M TRYING TO SLEEP YOU BASTARDS!" Bakugou roared from upstairs making the class scattering into their rooms.

The next morning Midoriya awoke early and slipped on his black shirt, green hoodie, and black shorts. When he reached downstairs he quickly made bread with butter and rushed towards the shop, eating along the way.

"I'm glad! They had one left!" The teen grinned walking down the sidewalk holding a plastic bag containing the rope. He looked at his gloved hands smiling. "I have to thank Hatsume again for this. Now all I gotta do- hmph!" Midoriya cut himself off bumping into a man wearing a brown cloak, large hat, and white mask. Next to him was a short lady in similar clothing. "Ah sorry about that!"

"No problem young lad! I'll be on my way now!" The man spoke in a hurried tone turning around.

"That voice..." Midoriya turned his head seeing a caffe. "Oh, this is where Yaoyorozu said she bought Gold Tips Imperial..." He mumbled to himself unknowingly gaining the attention of the man.

"So you know it's greatness then!" He said with a laugh. "At a young age too!"

"Yeah...a friend of mine gave me some a day ago..." He clenched the bag tighter. "It's definitely him."

"...That's a good friend you have." He quickly turned around with the lady. "I-I must go now-"

"I don't think so." Midoriya dropped the bag with his hair shadowing his eyes. "This is the one day I can't allow it. Not after everything it took just have this festival. Not until I make her smile!"

"It couldn't be avoided!" The lady exclaimed taking out her cambra as the both revealed their true identities.

"Izuku Midoriya. Winner of the Sports Festival." Gentle spoke dropping his cloak. "I would have prefered running into a hero. Your determination to win is most definitely scary. La Bavra-"

"-I know!" She said starting the camera.

"Viewsers! Watch as I, the Gentle Criminal try to get into U.A. on the clock!" He exclaimed watching winds pick up around Midoriya, lightning sparked around him as winds picked up.

"Gentle..." The two flinched as the sudden harsh tone from the teen. He looked up causing the two to take a step back. Midoriya's emradle eyes seemed to have a fierce fire dancing inside him. "...I won't let you past me! Full Cowling, 15%!" He jumped forward faster than normal but was held back mid air.

"You had me scared for a second!" Gentle nervously laughed and brought his hands back getting serious. "However..." He thrusted his forward arm sending Midoriya skidding across the street. "...This something I simply can't back down from. So forgive me!" He quickly made floors of elastic trampolines allowing him to jump across the sky.

Midoriya glared running after then jumping onto a roof. Crouching down like All Might, he blasted off into the air closing the distance in between them. "He can't do anything from mid air Gentle!" La Brava continued jumping with Gentle widening the distance once again as Midoriya was losing air time.

"Focus..." He brought his fingers in front of him in a flicking motion."As you move, focus your attention for an instant!" Mina's voice echoed inside his head. "Just like the ball throw...at the last instant..." Just when Midoriya flicked his finger Full Cowling raised to 20% making the power increase more than normal. "Air shot!" Midoriya shouted sending a massive pressure of air, sending Gentle crashing into a construction site.

"Gentle!" La Brava shouted running after her admiration. But Midoriya was faster, much faster.

"This is quite the situation!" Gentle spoke laughing while his coat was stuck into a beam, the rest of his body swaying side to side slowly.

"Enough already!" Midoriya shouted readying Air Force once again. "I can't try a percentage switch like that again. I missed the timing by a nanosecond and yet my finger feels like it's on fire!"

"Like I said before young man, I simply cannot give up." He used his right leg to sweep just above his ankle allowing him bounce and land on a beam. When Midoriya shifted to fire another 'Air Shot' Gentle used his quirk to bounce beam to beam at incredible speeds making it impossible to predict his next move.

"Damnit..."

"You're a hero aren't you?" Gentle asked standing still on a beam until he bounced along with the beam, removing the bolts attaching it. "Listen up young man. I cannot deactivate the effects of my quirk at my own will. So what I'm doing now is quite dangerous..."

Midoriya's eyes widened seeing the man watch the fight scene of what he thought was a film. He rushed forward seeing Gentle jump off just as the beam began to fall forward. Luckily he was able to catch the beam before it fell making the bystander flee in worry of his life. Unfortunately his hands were busy and straining.

"That was dirty!" La Brava said jumping down next to Gentle.

"Yes I know, however I did what was needed to do. Of course I was planning on bouncing the beam right back up if he didn't jump in." He walked over to a crane using his quirk. "Grab on La Brava."

Another growl escaped Midoriya's lips seeing the trouble makers about to escape. "D-Damnit..."

Gentle pulled back on the now elastic cane as La Brava held onto him. "I'm sorry but this is where we part ways Midoriya."

                                                     ✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

"I'm so nervous!" Kaminari exclaimed holding onto the yellow guitar as Bakugou clenched his fist.

"Why the hell is Deku taking so long!?"

Yaoyorozu sighed crossing her arms. "His last second entries just might become a habit of his. Although I am surprised you're the one who brought it up."

"Whatever!"

"Joking aside, what could possibly be holding Izuku up?"

                                                      ✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

"Air Shot!" Midoriya yelled getting Gentle to dodge. The beam crashed onto the floor allowing him to catch his breath. When he jumped down he expected to land on the floor but unexpectedly bounced upwards.

He landed facing the crane, recalling the criminal's words, "Listen up young man. I cannot deactivate the effects of my quirk at my own will..." Rushing forward Midoriya pulls back on the cane holding on until it's limits before being sent airborne.

"He's fast!" Gentle exclaimed placed an elastic air shield in front of them.

"Above the tree!" Memory served him right as he used the elastic platform to appear at Gentle's side. When the criminal was able to react fast enough to place another shield he changed targets sending an 'Air Shot' towards the platform successfully bouncing off it and landing a blow on Gentle's stomach.

"Gentle!"

By the time La Brava reached him, Midoriya already got up and held them both down to the ground, hands behind their backs. "I will hand you two to the police as fast as possible."

"I can't let you..." The pink haired woman muttered, catching Midoriya's attention. "Not after everything you've done for me Gentle...you were the only person who accepted me...you even drew on your face in sharpy to imitate my dark circles..."

A pink smoke like substance appeared from Gentle's coat wafting into the air. It became harder and harder for Midoriya to keep him pressed against the floor feeling the criminal's power increase by tenfold.

"Let me show you...my love for a gentle criminal."

An instant later Midoriya is airborne and kicked into a tree, his back crashing hard against the bark. "Sorry, Izuku Midoriya." Gentle spoke chopping the side of the teens neck while carrying La Barva in his other. He turned around to walk away until Midoriya's own power increased.

"I've fought the Nomu at USJ..." His muscles tensed slowly standing back up. "...it's speed and strength was leagues above yours..." A chuckle escaped his lips at the pun followed by a cackle of lightning. "...I lost, but that's another reason why I've been training..." La Barava and Gentle's eyes widen seeing the same fierce fire dance even brighter in Midoriya's eyes. "...So I won't ever be overpowered again! Full Cowling...20%!"

The two stepped back feeling the harsh winds whip around the green-haired teen's form. "Y-You got to be kidding me."

Midoriya ran forward with new found power knocking Gentle back and beginning their hand to hand combat in the air.

"It wasn't....enough...?" La Brava aka Manami Aiba said in shock. Whenever her and Gentle would be outnumbered they would use her quirk, love. Wind pulsed through the forest gaining the attention of a certain hownd hero.

Aiba's quirk was able to be used once a day, depending on how much she loved someone, it would increase their power. When in a crisis like the two are now. The power of her quirk would multiply many times over.

"Gently Sandwich!"

Another pulse of wind followed by lightning crackled in the air. Luckily the school festival had already started and was much louder than the fight just a mile away.

But that was the least of her worries. Aiba tried moving forward to hack into the school but stopped seeing the pro heroes Hound Dog along with 5 clones of Eptomplasium. She turned back and Gentle was locked with Midoriya, fighting to over power the other.

"It's not fair..."

"FULL COWLING..." Midoriya's body creaked in pain and burned but he wouldn't allow his body to limit him this time. "...25%!"

Within that instant, he had completely overpowered Gentle, slamming his power onto the ground with a creator 10 times greater than the criminal's body.

"Let him go..." Aiba whispered dropping hre laptop and running towards Midoriya who held Gentle down the same position as before. Chest pressed against the ground and arms behind his back. And his power back at 15%. "I said let him go!"

Midoriya's attention drifted away from Gentle to the crying woman pounding on his shoulder with tears rolling down her face. "Don't take him away! He was there for me! Go away!" The teens eyes widen at her words. "You don't know anything! You don't know what it means to love someone! Let him go! He's my shoulder to lean on! He's my hero!"

"Her hero...?" His mind subconsciously flashed an image of Yaoyorozu. Then played the memory of when she stopped his training to get him some sleep. Then the night when he told her everything and the promise of when they said they would be there for each other.

"Just let him-"

"Thank you."

The sudden gratitude in his voice shocked the two. Especially remembering the harsh tone he used when they first met. Gentle was suddenly flipped over and his cape was ripped off as Midoriya tied the two together. "I honestly owe you one..."

"I smell something over here!"

"...so this once I'm going to do something probably unheroic." Midoriya powered up to 20% once again carrying the two who were holding each other close. "Detroit..." He ran a few steps thrusting his arm over his head. "Smash!" And with those two words the two were sent flying into the sky until out of human sight. "I aimed for the trampoline first used for his get away. He should land on a roof. The worst possible injury is a scar but nothing more, sorry. And thank you."

"Hey!" Midoriya turned around facing the hound hero. "That was a pretty good throw but you just helped a w-wanted criminal e-escape!" The teen knew the hero was getting frustrated. List H, Type Mutant. When becoming angry or frustrated the hero becomes incapable of speech. At first it's angry stuttering until it's full of growling and barking.

"I'm aware of what I've done. And I'm ready to take punishment for my actions."

Fur covered hands lay on Midoriya's shoulders forcing him to face the beast. "W-We don't have time for that right now! Y-You n-need to go to y-your c-classmates! T-they're waiting for you!"

"Hai! I'll go get the rope I came here for!" Midoriya quickly shouted running off.

"THAT KID IS GOING TO EXPLAIN HIMSELF AFTER THIS!!! RAAAAA!"

. . .

"All of U.A...WILL BE KILLED BY OUR SOUND!" Bakugou roared beginning their song with a bang!

  ~Hero Too~

What am I to be? What is my calling? I gave up giving up, I'm ready to go The future's left unseen It all depends on me Put it on the line to follow my dreams Yeah Tried all my life I've tried to find Something that makes me hold on and never let go Oh~ Hero too I am a hero too My heart is set and I won't back down Hero too Strength doesn't make a hero True heroes stand up for what they believe So wait and see So wait and see What do they think of me? Who do they think I'll be? I could not care less, I don't wanna know Am I doing right? Am I satisfied? I wanna live my life like it's meant to be Yeah Tried all my life I've tried to find Something that makes me hold on and never let go Oh~ Hero too I am a hero too My heart is set and I won't back down Hero too Strength doesn't make a hero True heroes stand up for what they believe So wait and see People judge for no reason at all Yeah, they might try To say your dream's dumb Don't listen They may look down on me and count me out I'm going my own way They may look down on me and count me out I'm a hero, I've got music Hero too I am a hero too My heart is set and I won't back down Hero too Strength doesn't make a hero True heroes stand up for what they believe Yeah I'll be! Hero too I am a hero too My heart is set and I won't back down Hero too Strength doesn't make a hero True heroes stand up for what they believe So wait and see I have met so many heroes in my life Gave me the strength and courage to survive Gave me the power to smile everyday Now it's my turn to be the one to make you smile

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

"This sucks." Muttered a green-haired teen surviving his classmates. The end of november was near meaning his punishment was almost over.

"Hey Midoriya! Could you serve us the tea Yaomomo got us? Thank you!" Mina grinning seeing her friend groan but nonetheless did what he was asked.

As you might have guessed, Midoriya's punishment was taken oppun his classmates. After all, he did arrive last second and make everyone worry. So when the teachers asked the rest of Class 1A for his chosen punishment.

"He looks so cute in that butler outfit!" Toru squealed as he replaced the flowers on the table.

Midoriya was wearing a tux similar to the one Sebastian had worn in the manga the girls had been reading. The room temperature was quite warm due to the cold weather outside. Because of that he had taken off the black jacket and tied it around his waist leaving him in his long sleeved undershirt. The shirt itself was quite rather tight along with the fact it was wet and still drying-both of the two being courtesy of Mina-so his stomach area was slightly revealed showing in solid 6 plates of pure muscle.

"No. I look like an idiot. You even messed with my hair" He sighed referring to the front part of his hair begin tied back revealing his forehead.

"You look fine Midoriya. In all honesty, I probably would have attempted to seduce you if you weren't claimed already." Midoriya doubled over almost falling on his way to the kitchen as Yaoyorozu went red faced remembering her 'talk' with Mina last week.

Flashback

"So what I'm hearing is you like Midoriya?" Mina asked with a know-it-all grin causing the onyx eyed beauty to blush and hide her face with her palms slowly nodding her head. "Unexpected. Always thought you two had a lot of common. Innocent, smart, always trying to help someone out, and many more. But I didn't think you'd fall for him after only three days of talking to him."

"S-shut up."

Her grin only got brighter. "So you don't want my help?"

"I do!"

"Good. It's almost the end of November so we got to take advantage of Midoriya's current punishment."

"How...?" Yaoyorozu asked removing her hands from her face.

"There's something I want to test before I'm 100% sure. I don't know for certain but something about Midori has definitely changed."

"Really? What about him?"

"I really hate to be that character but I'm going to have to go with the cliché of saying 'figure it out yourself.'" Yaoyorozu sighed but Mina kept smiling. "Relax. Things seem pretty calm right now. You two have gotten really close over these past few weeks so I think you should ask him out."

"But what if-"

"Atatata. No 'what if's.' You got to remember you're not the only one after him."

"Uraraka..."

Mina nodded her head. "That's right. It's now or never."

"Yeah! I got this!"

Mina's grin returned, pulling out her phone and starting her camera. "Then let's begin our little training camp...." She started her camara "...so who do you want?~"

End Of Flashback

The most embarrassing part was the fact Mina actually got Yaoyorozu to say his name on camera. Along with her other 'lessons.' She snapped out of thought when she heard her name called out. "You sure you don't need anything Momo?"

"First name basis?" Ochako asked in slight surprise. When the festival ended she went to visit her parents and spent time with them. She tried confessing until Aizawa told everyone what happened with Midoriya. Everyone else was familiar with the closeness of the two but she was completely left in the dark. It didn't help that her bubbling feels were still suppressed.

Mina grinned kicking back on the coach. "You can't be that surprised. Yaomomo is the one who helped him out of his reckless behavior. Also Midoriya, what did I say you had to refer us before out names?~"

"M-Master and M-Mistress." His left eye twitched containing his irritation.

"Good. Don't forget it." She laughed relaxing on the coach as the brunette winched watching the two chat.

"Sorry about that Izuku."

"It's fine Mo- Mistress Momo. If you need anything you can just ask. It is my punishment after all."

Yaoyorozu blushed at the title 'Mistress' but also the fact since Midoriya was facing her, she got a full personal view of his abs. Just when she was about to tell him that the title wasn't necessary, Mina's words echoed in her head "It's almost the end of November so we got to take advantage of Midoriya's current punishment."

"So is there anything you need?"

"Not at the moment. But...I think you look pretty hot." It took every ounce of willpower for Yaoyorozu not to stutter in embarrassment. Mina just gave a thumbs up.

Midoriya laughs, scratching his cheek in an attempt to hide his blush. "G-Glad you think so."

"Think I'ma hurl." Bakugou scoffed, getting up from his seat.

"Man I know you jelly~" Kaminari spoke earning an explosion in the face and a laugh from Jiro. He groaned holding his bleeding nose. "Midoriya...I think some badges would be great..."

The greenie laughed. "Right away Master Kaminari."

"Achoo!" Tokoyami sneezed just as he returned from his cup of black tea.

"Oh? Someone might be talking about you. Could be your possible fans." Yaoyorozu said drinking the cup Midoriya had served for her.

"Mistress, you had quite the amount of fans yourself." Midoriya said finally sitting down next to Ochako who enjoyed the company and made herself compatible relaxing on his shoulder. He felt uncomfortable but didn't show or say anything.

Yaoyorozu felt irritated but suppressed it. "Guess so."

"Lock on with these sparkling gazes..."

"We've come to lend a paw and help..."

"Coming out of nowhere..."

"Stingingly cute and catlike..."

"Wild, Wild Pussycats!"

"Pixie-Bob!?" Midoriya shouted instantly getting up and running down the hall.

The blonde purred running after the teen. "I'm 18 at heart!"

"It's good to see you guys!" Toru cheered as the rest of the class ignored what happened with Midoriya. All but two at least.

However the One For All shortly returned along with an upset Pixie-Bob. The heroine marches to the confused Yaoyorozu. "Sorry about that, I didn't know he was your boyfriend."

Mina burst out laughing at Yaoyorozu's beet red face. "I-I'm not his- We're not- I -"

"Why'd you think Midoriya is Yaomomo's boyfriend?" Ochako asked trying to hide the slipping jealiousy in her voice.

"Simple really. Her scent was all over him."

The class turned to the two for an explanation and the two turned equally red. The explanation was definitely the fact the two had started sleeping in each other's rooms two weeks ago. Long embarrassing story short, Yaoyorozu and Midoriya got peaceful sleep together. Even the greenie's nightmares had stopped for the time being. But of course, it wasn't like they were going to publish it for the class to know.

Fortunately the two didn't have to explain when Malandy cut in with Kota. "Hey....sorry about before..."

Midoriya smiled crouching down to his admirer's height. "It's okay. And I appreciate the letter you sent me."

"It was nothing really."

"Is that so?" Malanadally smiled and pointed over to his shoes. Kota bushed as his caretaker explained how he chose the red shoes bringing a smile onto the hero in training's face.

"Thanks Kota!" He beamed, taking off Koda's hat allowing him to ruffle his hair. "So why did you guys come to visit?"

Pixie-Bob stretching out arms and began to 'Jazz hands.'" We're back in business!"

"Congratulations!" Iida shouted chopping his hands.

"Ragdoll?" Midoriya questioned turning to her as his brain replayed the incident of camp. "But I thought your quirk was solten? Did they-"

"-It's not back." Her voice didn't even sound the least bit rejected. "Even without a quirk I'm still going to continue to be a hero. May it be on the field or inside."

Midoriya stood up slightly clenching his fist at his own patheticness. "First Melissa and now Ragdoll. I guess I was just a crybaby after all."

Bakugou frowned knowing the look on the face of his childhood friend. He honestly didn't know if he could call Midoriya an 'childhood friend' with the way he's torchered him for years. "Things between me and the nerd aren't even halfway healed." His eyes landed on Yaoyorozu who was busy watching Midoriya. "For now, I'll leave it to her."

"We also got an update from Tartarus." She pulled out a recording.

"I do feel back about it, truly. When I see an interesting quirk I can't help but take it.

I'd love to return the quirk to it's original host but that would mean using my quirk.

And I very much doubt you would let me do that would you?"

"Sick bastard." Bakugou spat as everyone was thinking in their minds. "But his mind games aren't new. What so di-"

"So instead I'll tell you a story."

This got the room's attention as Kota tugged at Midoriya's shirt to be securely wrapped in embrasse by the teen. The professional heroes were shocked since they had no memory of the villain saying any further, much less recording it.

"Once upon a time there was a boy who wished for power.

He wanted power to save those who could not protect themselves.

But alas the boy was never granted power, instead he was granted seemingly endless pain and humiliation..."

Yaoyorozu saw a look of guilt spread on Bakugou's face along with the tense Midoriya. She didn't have time to think about it when the dangerous villain spoke up again.

"...However the boy still wasn't going to give up. To the point he would ask anyone to help him."

Midoriya's eyes widen, feeling someone terribly wrong inside his chest. This didn't go unnoticed by his classmates.

"One day the boy ran into some trouble with some criminals holding a damsel in distress.

Being who he was, he tried to save the person in distress.

The second he distracted the crimmails the person ran without a second thought leaving the boy alone with the criminals."

"Midoriya?" Mina asked seeing the teen push away Kota and clench at his own chest.

"Just when he thought he was going to die a figure swooped in to save him.

The boy thanked him repeatedly, not noticing the man's insane smile.

Before the boy could thank the man, he spoke.

"Boy, do you wish for power?"

The boy nodded seemingly happy with the question. But he wasn't ready for what was next."

"Midoriya!" The class shouted seeing him go limp.

"Then power you will be granted." The man spoke placing a hand on the boy's head. "It is time for you to aid my successor..."

Lightning erupted inside the room causing everyone to jump back. The lightning was similar to Full Cowling. But inside of it's usual green, it was pitch black.

"Awaken. Project Deku."

A sickening grin spread across the teen's face as the band holding up his hair snapped shadowing his eyes. "It's about damn time..." Everyone stook a step back seeing the now hostile attacker reveal it's blood red eyes. "I was thinking you might have forgotten about me...All For One!"

[cecilspeaks]

156 - The Trouble with Time

‘tis better to have loved and lost Than to be slowly eaten whilst still alive. There are, on the whole, Many things worse than having loved and lost. Welcome to Night Vale.

Well, listeners, we have all been grappling with the same problem. Time has become normal in Night Vale, or as normal as time ever is. Time is pretty weird everywhere. As a result of this shift in our experience of time, none of us are remaining the same age for centuries anymore. We are aging one year per year, one month per month, one second per precious second. Every moment that passes our skin is less supple. Our mind is less pliant. Our joints ache just a little more.

The entire town is in an uproar, as we are all coming to terms with the idea of getting older. Gym memberships have soared. Everyone is talking at the same time and they’re all recommending green juice diets to each other. The City Council has tried to make ageing illegal, but it turns out this would be unconstitutional as the Supreme Court decided that slow deterioration of the mind and body is an American right.

I myself am not immune to these worries. When I think about what my life would be like after Carlos or, what his life would be like after me… These are the kinds of fears that can’t be shaken off by the light of day. That linger, even after all the shadows of evening have faded. Is love a gift in a finite world? I’d like to think so, but oh, my stomach is in knots. I’m sure your sis too.

And now a word from our sponsors. Afraid of ageing? Terrified of the tides of time? Spooked by the sequential nature of existence? Stop looking at the calendar and moaning. Sure, it may be cathartic to start every morning by picking up your alarm clock and shouting: “You are a murderer! Your numbers are murder weapons! I am the murder victim!” But it’s not helping you out. Instead, try lotion. Just lotion those limbs. Lotion that face. Got any other parts? Lotion them too. Rubbing lotion on yourself won’t stop time. It won’t end the inevitability of death. But when you die, you will be silky smooth, and folks will whispers: “Why, it doesn’t look like they’ve aged a single day.” Buy lotion now and we will send you a box of other things that will not stop you from dying, but will make you feel a little better on your way out the door. Such as fish oil pills, a pair of running shoes, and books with titles like “Get Happy Now, or Else”. Lotion – you can’t stop ageing, so settle on mitigating the surface appearance of ageing. And this has been ma word from our sponsors.

In a new press release, Night Vale resident Leah Shapiro announces the Mariam McDonald memoriam fund. This fund, in honor of the recently deceased Mariam, will be used to finally fulfil Mariam’s lifelong dream, a dream she did not live long enough to see come to fruition: the removal of all sand from the Sand Wastes.  Mariam hated the sand, thought it looked frightfully untidy, and that it made a bad first impression for folks just coming to town. She could often be seen when she was alive out with her broom, dutifully sweeping the dunes into her dustpan, and depositing the result into a black trashbag. Obviously, this was slow going, but Leah has vowed to continue Mariam’s quest. “It’s a stupid wish, a real dumb one,” said Leah. “I hate it! I hate it so much, but I don’t know, it’s what Mariam wanted. And so I feel obligated for some reason to keep after it. God, this sucks!” Leah concluded. According to the press release, the Mariam McDonald Memorial Fund currently contains 3 dollars, and is not taking donations. Well, isn’t that the feelgood story of the year? Good luck, Leah. I do hope you get rid of all that sand. Mariam was right, sand is very untidy.

And now for the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner. So today, we will be discussing how to tell whether something is a person. Here are simple tests that can be done at home with whatever you find in your parents’ cabinets when they don’t know you’re looking. Does it grow? It’s a person. Does it bend? It’s a person. Is it square or similar to a square? That’s a person. Nodes or nodules? Person. A frank and enticing laugh? Person. Can it hold liquid? Person. Is it a dog? Yup, that’s a person too. That ooze at the back of your closet? Not a person. We don’t know what hat is, best not to touch it, best not to think on it. Perhaps it is the thinking that gives it its power. This has been the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.

In response to the current “time is normal” crisis, many companies are moving in to offer services to alleviate ageing. Arby’s is suggesting that a regular diet of roast beef has been shown to extend life expectancy by up to 20 years. When they were asked who showed that and how they did so, Arby’s kind of mumbled and sad that they would have those sources for us soon, but in the meantime, come on down and buy yourself a meal. 

A number of new gyms have opened up in town, promising advanced workouts that will keep the body and mind tiptop. There is an LA Fitness, also a 26 Hour Fitness, which promises workouts at any time day or night, plus two bonus hours every day that are only experienced by members. And local legend Louie Blasko has started what he calls a Crossfit gym, but it appears to be just the burned out remains of his old music store, untouched since the night of the fire. “Oh yeah,” Louie said. “You can really get a good workout in here, believe me.” His eyes flicked back and forth nervously.

A different angle is being taken by newcomer to town, Casper Rhodes. Casper says that he has conquered the ultimate obstacle: death itself. He does this by freezing the brain upon death until it can be resuscitated by advanced technologies of the future. “Cryogenics means never having to say ‘I’m dead’,” Casper declared, whirling around the red cape he wears and wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh yes, this is a completely real technology. Once you die, we simply and safely remove your bran and freeze it in here.” He indicated the disused grain silo on the edge of town. “That thing is full of brains,” he said. “And each of those brains will be reanimated to a bright and beautiful future hundreds of years from now, and you can too, for a mere 10,000 dollars. Payable upfront, no refunds offered.”

Suspicious journalists asked if they could take a peek in the grain silo and see if it was actually full of brains. But Mr. Rhodes blocked the door with his body. “Uh oh uh,” he said. “Opening the door would mess up the, uh, freezing process. Uh, wouldn’t want that to happen. You just have to trust us.” Hmmmmm.

And now traffic. It’s looking pretty clear on the roads right now. There isn’t a single car to be seen. The parking lots are barren, the highways are mere doodles of the gods without the roaring machines that give them purpose. Where did every car disappear to? We wonder this as we walk to work. Walk to school. Learning the limits and the capacity of our own legs, magnificent machines attached to our own bodies that we had long ago discounted, but now can only propel ourselves by the length of them. And then again and again, one after another. The hours pass and we gradually pass through them, and where are the cars? Did they ever exist? The factories where cars once were built are now full of robots with no purpose, arms ending in specialized tools and drills, all designed to construct a thing that no longer is there to be constructed. And so they bob and weave for nothing. In this way, perhaps, it could be said that they are dancing. To take purpose from a movement is to suggest the possibility of art within it, that perhaps the movement could have meaning merely for itself, but I ask again: where are the cars? Where did they go? Every other form of transportation still exists. Planes still claw their way into the stratosphere, while boats wobble on churning seas. Motorcycles even, given the compete freedom of the highway, tearing into the turns and straightaways at dangerous speeds, but no cars. Was it something we did? Is this our fault? At least there’s no traffic, I guess, and we’re all getting a little more time outdoors which is nice and, oh – Nevermind. The cars are back, all of them. Aaaall at once, driverless and speeding. Well, it’s nice to have them back. This has been traffic.

And now for corrections. In a previous editorial aired on this station, a reporter indicated his belief that peanut butter is a type of rock. That reporter sincerely believed, based on a half remembered lesson from elementary school that he now realizes might have actually been a cartoon he watched, that peanut butter along with sedimentary, metamorphic, and ignius was in fact one of the main types of rock. This reported harbored no ill intent when he lectured for what may or may not have been two hours about his belief that peanut butter was a type of rock. This well meaning reporter may have ignored several calls from his scientist husband, who was trying to get through to correct this completely understandable mistake. But the reporter was on such a roll that he didn’t even notice the calls coming in. Which could happen to anyone. The reporter may have even printed up posters for local schools showing the types of rock, with peanut butter prominently included. If that is the case, these schools should feel free to return the erroneous posters, or keep them, if they feel it might be in some way educational. In any case, the reporter in question regrets the error and now amidst that maybe, peanut butter isn’t a type of rock. Maybe that’s true. Decide for yourself. This has been corrections.

Casper Rhodes and his Quality Cryogenics Corporation continue to advertise their dubious service all over town. He has bought a billboard next to the Waterfront Recreation Area declaring: “A new life awaits you in the future”, with a picture of a disembodied brain that is somehow both smiling an giving a thumbs up, despite its lack of hands and mouth. The Quality Cryogenics Corporation strung a banner along the top of the disused grain silo on the edge of town saying the name of the company. Except the word “quality” has been misspelled, as has “corporation”. Listeners, I am not one to editorialize, not after the recent peanut butter debacle we’ve heard so much about. But it does not seem to me that this Mr. Rhodes is on the up and up. Nothing about this strikes me as a scientific operation, and trust me, I know from scientific operations. Despite these warning signs, a few people have in fact taken them up on their offer, including weekday shift managers at the Ralphs, Charlie Bear, whose lifetime ambition of becoming a ghost has recently curdled into a frantic fear of death. “I thought we had eternity. Now every minute spent is a minute lost,” Charlie said to me when I asked him if they had any more cilantro. So that was a bummer on my afternoon. I must warn everyone not to buy into this Casper charlatan’s lies. Cryogenically freezing brains is not going to save you. In fact, it is time for me to bust this scam wide open. I will sneak into the disused grain silo, and I will tel you what is inside. Then all of us will know the truth.

As I head over there, Let’s all head over To the weather.

[“Revolution Lover” by Left At London http://leftatlondon.com]

OK, listeners I’m.. hold on. This portable recording rig is just a little heavy. Whoo! I have got to get back to my weight training. I was deadlifting as much as 15 pounds, and now look at me.

OK, I am looking up at the towering disused grain silo on the edge of town. The silo that one Casper Rhodes would claim contains cryogenically frozen brains, destined to be reawakened in the future. Well, I’m sure Mr. Rhodes, but allow me to just check in on it myself. The door to the silo is locked with a padlock and heavy chain. Fortunately, I don’t go anywhere without my Special Reporter’s welding torch. It comes in handy more than you’d think. [welding noises] And off it goes. Another win for the first amendment. Listeners, I am opening the heavy metal doors [creaking], and inside it is dark even in this late afternoon sun. I am stepping in. [voice echoing] My eyes are adjusting and oh my god! Listeners, oh my god! The tanks are full, frozen intact human brains, attached to various support equipment, it is all completely clean and seemingly running well, this – this isn’t a scam! The great Casper Rhodes is telling the truth! Death is now voluntary, aging is meaningless! We will all see the future! We will ALL see the future!

Listeners, I must go, I must talk to my husband. We could be together forever, don’t you see? A new world awaits us in the future! I must talk to Carlos, I must! [equipment drops]

Today’s proverb: On one hand, you have skin. On the other hand, you don’t- oh man, what happened to that hand?!!

[wouldpollyapprove]

I’m Not Like Her

Summary: Y/n never thought she’d take a job as a barmaid, but she had to do what she had to do. Fleeing from a mob in Aberdeen, she was willing to do anything to live a peaceful life. And if that meant working for the Shelby’s then so be it. Life was normal until the mob decided to make an appearance in Birmingham, leading Tommy start to believe Y/n wasn’t exactly who she said she was.

Request: 17 from humor and 4 from misc? With tommy please 🥺❤️

Requested by @jenepleurepasbaby

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Language, alcohol, violence, angst 

A/N: This is barely edited b/c I have no paitence for that, but I really like how this turned out. Oh, and the cocktail I mentioned is from the 1920s but I’m not sure if it was popular in the UK or not. Anyway, I hope you guys like it and sorry for the angst, I couldn’t help myself.

Part Two

Masterlist

The noise filled the air, keeping people focused on what they were doing. It was too loud for anyone to notice much more than what was in front of them due to the alcohol in their system. It was always like that in the Garrison on a Friday night. Men clocked out of work, grabbed a girl, and headed for the pub. That’s how it always went.

Y/n had no time to think about anything but cocktail recipes as she filled orders. The men of Small Heath ordered everything straight out of the bottle. Whether it be whiskey, gin, or rum, it was always served either plain or on the rocks with a splash of water. It all came down to how much they wanted to stumble when they walked out of the door. The woman that tagged along were the ones that wanted to drink something fancy. They wanted to be more than some dirt poor girl from the wrong side of town. A lady in a countryside manor or a duchess in a French Château is what they wanted to be.

And that is what Y/n tried her best to do, give them a piece of a reality that would never be theirs.

She was too busy filling orders to notice the men that had entered the bar. Their appearance was almost identical to that of the Peaky Blinders that frequented the streets. They all wore neatly pressed suits, bulky overcoats covering their suit. No suspicion would have been drawn if it weren’t for the hats that sat upon their heads. 

Handing over the fifth Sidecar she’d made in the last fifteen minutes, Y/n wiped her hands off on her apron. “Good Lord, is it ever gonna slow down?” 

Edith shook her head from beside her. “I fuckin’ wish. I’m sick of this Irish beer Arthur ordered. Everyones to pissed to realize it’s shit.”

Y/n chuckled, “That they are.” Her eyes wandered around the packed bar, landing in bursts on the drunks that stumbled around. Just as she was about to turn back to her work, her eyes landed on three well-dressed men at the door. All the blood drained from her face, turning it ash white. The tammies they wore picking them out of the crowd

“Are you alright?” Edith asked, turning from pouring another glass of whiskey on the rocks. 

Her coworker nodded, before glancing at the clock on the wall above them. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. I’m off in five-” Mary passed behind her, on time for her shift for once. “-and Mary’s here so I think I’m going to head home.”

She wasn’t given a second glance as she stripped her apron off and fetched her coat from the back room. Eyes followed her like a hawk until she reached the door. Y/n didn’t bother to look at the three men that stood in front of the door, she shoved past them, knowing they wouldn’t make a scene. 

With the door to the Shelby’s private room open, Tommy kept his eye trained on the men while he kept up with the conversation he was having with Michael. The grip on his glass tightened when Y/n appeared and shoved passed two of them. He would have thought that by the time Y/n got off the men would have ordered a drink and found a table, but the stood near the door like statues. Only moved, turning on their heels, when Y/n shoved them out of her way and followed a few feet behind her. 

It was odd. Everything about it was odd. The men that had entered the bar ten minutes before were odd. Tommy could have sworn he’d seen the men once before. London came to mind when he thought of them and how they’d dressed. But no one in London would be caught dead dressing like that. And the man found it odd how Y/n shoved passed them, something he knew she would never do.

Tommy and Y/n had an interesting relationship.

Tommy was in love with her, there was no way he could deny it. He could ignore it, though. After what happened with Grace two years before, he wasn’t sure he was ready to wear his heart on his sleeve. Every once and a while, a sharp pain would overtake his heart and make him remember why he was afraid to love so openly again. He tried though. He tried to do as much as he could for her with what he had. Tommy did his best to protect and behind closed doors, he showed her his heart.

But that could never be aired out in the open.

Thomas Shelby couldn’t have people seeing him weak over a woman. He couldn’t be seen once more being destroyed by the touched of a woman who’d betrayed him.

Y/n was much different than her lover. She was as loyal as they came and would never betray him, not when he owned her heart. Not one to love as few had ever shown her such a thing, she had no problem giving Tommy the love he deserved. She didn’t care about the blood on his hands or the damage caused by the war. She saw past his outward appearance and his tough exterior, loving who he was before and after damage had been done to his heart and soul.

Though he was concerned, there was business to be done and it couldn’t wait. No longer a believer, Tommy prayed to God that he wasn’t making a mistake for not following after her.

Stepping out onto the dirt-covered cobblestones, the cold air bit at her exposed skin as Y/n waited for the men to exit behind her. She turned when the door creaked open, more light pouring out onto the street.

The tallest of the three linked his arm with her’s, dragging her down the street, her protests drowned out by the sound of the other men lighting their cigars. Once he believed them to be far enough from prying eyes, in front of a factory that was closed for the night, he stopped and swung the girl in front of him. “Didn’t think I’d fin ya, did ya?”

“You fuckin’ bastard,” Y/n spat, pulling her arm out of his grasp. “What the fuck are you doing here, Roger?”

It had been ages since the two had last seen each other, parting onto a hill that overlooked Aberdeen, blood and tears on both their faces. They’d shared some good times, getting into all the trouble they could. They ran from the law in Edinburgh, jumping a train with a bottle of whiskey in their bag. Y/n stayed by his side when his father put him in charge of his family’s company and she watched him turn into a hungry monster, out for money and blood.

A laugh vibrated his chest, he leaned forward, moving a piece of curly hair out of her face. How he’d missed those curls of her’s. “I’ve come to ask for your help, love.”

Swatting his hand away from her face, she pushed him away, wishing to create distance between them. The men beside him, supposed to be his body guards, did nothing, believing she held no power. She rolled her eyes at their dismissals, Ed and Jim had never been very good at keeping their boss out of danger. “No fucking way will I ever help you.”

“Ya used to help with everything. There was nothin’ ya wouldn’t do fer me.”

“That was before you killed Charlie-” Y/n folded her arms across her chest, wrapping her coat around her tighter. “He was my friend, Roger.”

The man rolled his eyes. He never cared about what he had to do to keep his business running. “He was taking you from me.”

“Your brutish behavior was taking me away from you. Don’t confuse the two.” Y/n reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She waltzed around the men as she dug around for a lighter, knowing the men in front of her weren’t gentlemen and would never offer over their lighters. 

Before she could get her cigarette lite, a crash from the alley across from them caught everyone’s attention. Roger, Ed, and Jim reached under their coats for their weapons. Y/n turned to see a couple of Peaky boys walk out of the alley. She’d seen them before, they normally helped in the betting shop and had accompanied their boss to London a time or two. “Roger, don’t shoot them,” she demanded, trying to step in his way. 

The Peaky Blinders drew their own weapons, ready to fire if they had to. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. Why were men the way they were? Instead of staying and watching blood spill, she turned her back to the group of men. “Don’t do anything too stupid, Roger. No one here will save you arse,” she warned him, walking into the darkness of Small Heath.

*~~*~~*

The two Peaky Blinders that escaped unscathed from their encounter with Roger Flint, which was a relief. One of the men knew exactly who Roger was as he came from Scotland. He also knew how rare it was for Roger to let someone live in a firefight. 

With ragged breaths, the two men rushed into the Garrison and wasted no time to find Tommy. Their boss was still where he was when Y/n had left, leaning in his chair, cigarette between his lips and glass of whiskey in his hand. 

The Shelby’s all turned when Ricky entered the private room panting like a dog. “What the fuck happened to you?” John asked, a little laugh ending his sentence. 

“W-we were out… out by the factory,” he started, clutching his side. “And Roger Flint was out there with some of his men.”

“Y/n was there with ‘em,” the man beside him added.

The mention of her name forced Tommy to his feet, his glass shattered to the floor. “Was she hurt?”

Ricky shook his head. “No, no-” He took a deep breath, trying to expand his lungs. “She seemed to know him. Personally.”

Was that worse than being caught with a copper? The mobster hadn’t the faintest clue, but he didn’t like the sound of it. “Where is she now?”

The two men exchanged glances, surprised that they hadn’t been chewed out for leaving her. “Don know. She left, I think she went home.”

Dragging his hand over his face, Tommy sat back down. How did Y/n know Roger Flint? That wasn’t a man anyone knew casually. A sigh escaped his lips as he took Arthur’s drink. The alcohol burned his throat as he emptied the glass. He thought Y/n was nothing but honest with him, but that was clearly a lie. 

So there Tommy sat, his family exchanging worried glances from around the room, while all his fears washed over him like a raging river.

*~~*~~*

Y/n slept like a baby, Roger easily faded from her memory as she slept. He was never much to remember. The man was nothing but an overgrown baby trying to make a name for himself as a mobster. It was pathetic. All that went through her mind as she dressed for work was the amount of glasses she’d have to clean off of tables and the shattered glass that would need to be swept off the floor. 

As she did every morning, Y/n stopped by the small cafe around the corner from her house. She was never one for cooking and her kitchen didn’t permit more than a sandwich to be made. It always seemed to bring her joy, stopping in to get a scone, and chatting with the owner. It was the start she needed for what she knew would be a long day.

Once she was feed, Y/n wasted no time walking to work. Dodging children, who ran through the street like monkeys, and women gossiping as they headed to the market, she finally arrived at the doors of the Garrison. Fetching the key out of her purse, she dropped it back in when she found the door unlocked.

The Shelbys had obviously arrived before her.

A smile tugged at her lips upon entering the pub, memories from the night before playing in her mind. Though the place was a mess, she was happy to be at work then to be helping Roger. Anything was better than being in the same room as him. Her smile faltered when she caught a glimpse of Tommy behind the bar. His muscles were tight and there was fire in his eyes. He looked up at her and all Y/n could see was boiling anger. 

She did her best to send him a smile as she tugged off her coat, placing it on the bar. “Good morning, love.”

His knuckles turned white against the bottle of whiskey he’d grabbed off the shelf. “Don’t bother, Y/n,” he growled. 

The smile dropped to the floor along with her eyes. Roger clearly hadn’t killed the Blinders, damn. It would have been much easier to pretend that her time with the Scottish mobster never happened then to ever have to explain it to the man she loved. “What’s wrong, Tommy?” she asked, deciding it would be easier to play dumb. 

It was a long shot, but there was a chance she could get the man to believe her word over that of his men.

Tommy shot her a dangerous look. A warning that stated he wouldn’t believe a thing she said. “Who were you with after work last night?”

“No one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” she snapped. 

There was a pause, making Y/n nervous, as Tommy opened the bottle of whiskey and poured it into the glass in front of him. The pub was silent while he sipped at it before he placed it back on the bar. “Let’s not play this game. I know a liar when I see one, Y/n, because I’m a liar.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at his words. “What do you want me to say? That I was with someone that wasn’t you?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. Flint is the fucking enemy! And there you were waltzing’ around with him! How fuckin’ loyal!” he yelled and in a fit of rage grabbed his glass and threw it at the wall beside him. “I thought you were better than her, turns out you’re the same type of snake.”

His words burned against Y/n’s ear, causing her heart to shrivel up in pain. “Bite me,” she seethed. Before any more damage could be done, she reached for her coat and ran out the door., shouting, “I quiet,” on her way out.

How fucking stupid could she be, thinking she outrun away from Roger? He would always come back to haunt her. 

The door slammed behind her and once her feet hit cobblestone, she ran like a freight train, dropping her coat as she gained speed. She needed to create as much distance between her and Thomas Shelby as she could. God, she hoped to never see his face again.

Running along the streets of Small Heath, people shot her confused looks and moved out of her way as they saw nothing would stop her. Y/n ran, one foot in front of the other until her legs gave way and she tumbled to the ground. She pushed herself off the ground, sobs racked her body as she wandered into an alley, sliding down the wall of the brick building beside her.

“I’m not like her,” she muttered to herself between sobs. “I’m not like her.”

What Tommy didn’t know, was Roger was a no one to her. He had been nothing for a long time and she never planned on allowing him back in her life, not after all the pain he caused. But it was too late to explain that now. She had been labeled a traitor and there was no way to scrub that off.

The words tattooed across her forehead and the pain in her heart were nothing compared to the pain she felt for hurting Tommy as she did. He trusted her and, slowly, he was starting to recover from what Grace had done to him only for it to happen once more.

It killed her to think that she had done then one thing she swore to never do.

*~~*~~*

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist.

@amirahiddleston @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee @multi-fandom-iimagines @tarafaithe @jenepleurepasbaby @fernweh-fangirl @captivatedbycillianmurphy

[internetexplorersclub]

if I only I could send this via carrier pigeon from Catalina

At LACMA, a conservator named Kamila Korbela is dedicated to restoring Day-Glo paintings from the 1960s that have begun to fade. I did not fully realize that the reason Day-Glo looks like it does is because it’s shifting on the electron level, which creates that shimmer effect and makes it difficult to look at—which is of course, why it was used in certain paintings. The difficulty in restoring it comes from the fact that it’s fading, but not traditionally:

The first problem is that Saturn Yellow is a mix of both conventional color and fluorescent dye. Both types of pigment lose their brightness, but in different ways. While color fades, fluorescence is more correctly said to “extinguish” — its ability to transform invisible energy to visible light exhausted through prolonged exposure.

Day-Glo also refuses to give out the formula (!) to conservators, but modern fluorescent paint ages differently, so Korbela is finding ways to artificially age the pigment to match. 

 A friend of mine visited Catalina, and sent back snapshots from a museum there that talked about the history of carrier pigeons on the island. Apparently it was earlier to train a pigeon to fly to Los Angeles from Catalina than it was to run underground telegraph cable or whatnot, and the LA Times had a section of news from Catalina, specifically delivered by pigeon. 

 The New York Times wrote about white barn owls hunting voles, and how they fare better hunting in moonlight, which is fascinating, but the real MVP is this tweet: 

Three pieces about myths, folklore and legend. The first, about Max Rockatansky (the eponymous Mad Max) as folkloric and mythic hero, appearing in “times of crisis” à la King Arthur. The second, about the myth of the iceman as lothario, seducing women in their homes when he came to deliver ice, which inspired multiple songs in the 1890s - aughts. 

I just learned about THE CANADIAN POTATO MUSEUM on Prince Edward Island and I cannot wait to visit (it has been added to the list along with the CUPNOODLES museum which I realized I have not discussed On Here, but contains a place where you can make your own custom ramen, and the CUPNOODLES Drama Theatre, shaped like a CUPNOODLES where you can watch films about the company’s history)

Wondered why the Soviets sent dogs to space while American sent chimps? Me too, honestly, but wonder no more. (Obligatory note that this does talk about which animals didn’t make it, which is more than a little heartbreaking!)

Soviet space dog names are also my favorites, Laika literally means “Barker”:

 Bobik (Бобик) ran away just days before his flight in September 1951. A replacement named ZIB (a Russian acronym for "Substitute for Missing Bobik”…an untrained street dog found running around the barracks, was quickly located and made a successful flight

I love these billboards that are photographs of the mountains behind them: 

Finally, a dive into Ursula K. Le Guin’s storytelling, which thanks to my friend Door (who has a great newsletter), introduced me to her “carrier bag theory”— the idea that the first human tool wasn’t a spear, but likely something to carry other things.

If it is a human thing to do to put something you want, because it’s useful, edible, or beautiful, into a bag, or a basket, or a bit of rolled bark or leaf, or a net woven of your own hair, or what have you, and then take it home with you, home being another, larger kind of pouch or bag, a container for people, and then later on you take it out and eat it or share it or store it up for winter in a solider container or put it in the medicine bundle or the shrine or the museum, the holy place, the area that contains what is sacred, and then next day you probably do much the same again—if to do that is human, if that's what it takes, then I am a human being after all. Fully, freely, gladly, for the first time

She then takes it a step further talking about how this works in science fiction:

If, however, one…redefines technology and science as primarily cultural carrier bag rather than weapon of domination, one pleasant side effect is that science fiction can be seen as a far less rigid, narrow field, not necessarily Promethean or apocalyptic at all, and in fact less a mythological genre than a realistic one.

A good note to end on, methinks.

etcetera: The NYT looks into if a supposed cell phone ringing during a production of Sea Wall/A Life was actually staged—despite the production denying it (!). In Corning, N.Y., a steam whistle still blows marking time for factory workers to start work, stop for lunch, and more (though they have modern clocks in the facility now). Want to play a video game where you’re a goose terrorizing a village? Untitled Goose Game is for you

[snarkwrites]

FFT: galentines; john shaw

Notes:

Okay, so... Did I mention I totally fell in love with Dean Ambrose’s character John in the movie Lockdown? Because yeah, yeet, oops. This is a result of that. And maybe at some point, I might revisit this whole.. Idea.. of mine. Idk. For now, this is part 1 in a two part thing.

Summary:

Valerie and John were a thing years ago. Now they work together. But there’s lack of closure and BOTH PARTIES are still in love. Maybe drinks are had and maybe John does the sober boss thing and takes Valerie home?

Pairing:

Detective John Shaw x OFC, Valerie.

Warnings:

alcohol tw, flirting and angst.

“It’s over-commercialized bullshit, that’s what it is. No one is ever going to tell me any different.” Valerie was turning the glass upside down as soon as she slammed back her shot of tequila and shaking her head at the bitterness.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll get called into the station. By our boss and your partner, the hardass?” Tess teased Valerie just in the hopes that it’d get Valerie ranting and raving about her crush on the man in question because she was almost certain that she’d seen Officer Shaw walk into the bar earlier, flashing his badge around, looking all official. And Tess really, really, really wanted to see Valerie stick her foot right in her mouth at last. The tension between the two when they were all on the clock was almost enough to make everyone around them squirm in anticipation. It was almost as if they knew each other before they started working together on the force. Several times Tess got the feeling there was something neither of them were telling her, but she let it alone. She let them keep insisting things were complicated because somehow, she got the feeling they were beyond that.

For about 3 seconds, the words of her best friend almost sobered Valerie up. But she started to laugh and she shrugged. “I told him I get tonight off. Because Valentines Day.” Valerie giggled and shook her head, glaring at the rest of her friends when they immediately chimed in “Crime doesn’t take a night off.” her three best friends all mimicked Officer Shaw.

Valerie bit her lip, grabbing for the bottle of tequila between the four of them and after taking a lime wedge and shaking some salt onto the back of her hand, she took another shot. “Do you guys k-know how f-fucking hard it is w-working with John Shaw?”

“Oh god, here we go.”

“Hey, somebody should record this.”

“D-don’t y-you dare. With those f-fucking arms and those e-eyes, holy shit. Man is a walking w-wet dream. I c-can’t fuckin f-focus when he walks into my o-office.” Valerie was off to the races, ranting on without a care in the world and her friends were all sitting back and quietly giggling. At one point during the most filthy part of Valerie’s rant on the things she wanted Officer Shaw to do to her and a few things she wouldn’t mind doing to him, Tess caught sight of Valerie’s partner -and their boss, nursing a bottle of water and sitting at the edge of the bar, staring right at Valerie intently.

He did it all the time.

The next thing Tess knew, she was getting a text from an unknown number. The mystery was solved as soon as she opened the text though and Tess smirked to herself as her eyes scanned the message Officer Shaw sent her.

← Thought Valerie had a hot date or somethin’ tonight…

Tess had plans already, she was meeting a guy she swiped right and matched on Tinder with -if he bothered showing up. Their other two friends Rita and Addie had taken an Uber over to the bar after their shift at the hospital and were leaving as soon as their husbands got off work from a local steel factory. Tess had a feeling she knew exactly what Officer Shaw was getting at though, and just the thought that she might be right and this might be a damn good chance to play matchmaker between Shaw and Valerie. And that’s exactly what she set about doing, with her answering texts.

→ No sir. Not us. Never. ;P

→ Valerie got dumped earlier, so she’s havin’ a rough night. I think she started drinking at 5-ish?

→ I gave her a lift here, but if my Tinder guy ever shows, I’m getting outta here because I plan on getting l a i d tonight, sir. So.. Val is deffo gonna need a ride.

→  But then again, she’s the only one you were really askin’ about, am I right? ;P

As soon as she’d responded, she put away her phone. She spotted the red and black plaid scarf that her Tinder date mentioned he’d be wearing and she took two more rapid-fire shots, standing as she wiped her hands down the front of her jeans. “Ladies, my ride awaits. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do tonight. If you do, name it after me.. Or don’t. I’m outta here.”

Valerie gave a laugh and called out in a cheeky tone to her best friend, “ Wrap it up! You don’t know where that dick’s been, sweetheart!” her level of drunkenness making her usual drawl even thicker and much more pronounced. She stood, sliding off the barstool and she started to make her way towards the back, with Rita and Addie in tow.

Walking isn’t really a word for what she was doing. Stumbling was more like it. Rita and Addie flanked her on either side, holding her steady until she came to a stop in front of the old jukebox sitting next to a pool stick holder mounted to the back wall of the bar. After digging around in her pockets, she finally found a ten dollar bill and she set to straightening it, pouting and swearing when that task proved to be just a bit more difficult than she anticipated.

“Girl.”

“Give me that, holy shit.” Addie reached out, taking the badly wrinkled bill, smoothing it over the edge of the machine before slipping it into the slot. “No stripper anthems tonight.”

“Aw, c’mon, whyyyy.” Valerie whined and pouted, but burst into laughter. “Fine. W-we’re listenin t-to metal.”

“Oh god.”

“She’s gonna be so hungover tomorrow. Christ, Rita, her hair is gonna hurt.” Addie grimaced as Rita glanced over towards the end of the bar. Spotting Valerie’s partner sitting there nursing a glass of water, she got Addie’s attention as Valerie wandered over to the rack of pool sticks and grabbed one, chalking the tip.

“Okay, so here’s my thought. Tess has already told the guy that Val is gonna need a lift. When Mike and Danny show, we’ll kinda herd her over there to him.”

“We can’t do that, Rita.”

“We can and we are. Because it’s about time they both acted on the way they feel. Guy’s always around, Addie. He wouldn’t show up here if it weren’t for our wildcat best friend. And you know what Tess keeps saying, they’re always fighting. Think, Addie.. How’d it start with you and Danny?”

“Ooh. Good point. Okay, fine. I’m in. But I don’t like it. And he better not be a dick about it.”

“Somehow I don’t think he will, Addie.” Rita mused as she nodded in the direction of Officer Shaw. Valerie’s laughter and Sad But True by Metallica shattered the otherwise quiet bar and Rita gave a wink to the officer sipping water as his gaze flickered from her to Valerie, settling on Valerie who was currently racking the table for a game while trying to sing along with the song and wiggling her hips to it.

“At least she’s not at home ugly sobbing into a pint of ice cream like with Ben.” Addie mused as Rita nodded in agreement and reached for a pool stick. “C’mon. I feel like tonight’s that night, Val. Tonight I’m gonna push you right off that champion throne.”

“R-rita, I l-love you but n-no. N-nope. You’re h-horrible at t-this.”

“No, you’re just a little hustler. That’s all.”

Valerie squealed, smiling at her in a goofy way. “Awww, bitch, y-you always say the sweetest shit.”

“Okay, sugar. Get the stick and get ready for your beating.”

They were about halfway into the game when Rita and Addie’s husbands showed up to collect them and Rita wandered past Officer Shaw, leaning in to whisper, “Okay, stud. She’s gonna need a lift. Don’t be an ass. It’s been a rough day for her. When you two got into it earlier? She’d just finished crying in the employee bathroom while textin’ me.”

John’s gaze left Rita and settled on Valerie, watching her like a hawk. Ozzy Osbourne was playing now and Valerie was taking a long sip from the forgotten bottle of tequila. He grimaced and nodded in her direction as he asked Rita, “Any reason why?”

“Yeah, her ass of an ex, Ben. He dumped her over text.”

John grimaced again, finishing off his bottled water as he glanced at the time on his phone screen and stood. “The four of ya be careful.” he told Rita as Rita nodded and then told him, “Have fun wrangling her, Officer. Use the cuffs if you have to.”

[a-collection-of-villainous-aus]

Coffee Shop au

Why.... Because I can XD

I mean I could do a whole this guy was working at Hat Manor instead of Flug , Demencia isn't there either and other people are in their place to have this au, but our good doctor and Hit woman are both in this and of course our dastardly Hat man we all love lol, it would not work without the entire crew right...manages to forget 505 for this one pffft maybe he’s Flugs stuffed bear from childhood?

For now let's just focus on Amadeus Black Hat.

(yes named after Mozart and I personally like the name.)

Also focusing on how this all began with him wanting a regular but decent cup of coffee without concerning ourselves on the other details of who would be in place of our favourite characters in his home.

So let's begin.

Early morning, shall we say six, despite being up since five, curtains still closed, our good (not so good) demon was curled up in bed eye closed, grumbling, his pyjamas kept riding up and irritating him and one of his bed socks had come off in the night.

That was another thing that was bothering him, half assedly trying to find it only to discover the damn thing had somehow managed to get on the floor, he glared at said object, how dare it be so far away.

Light peeked around heavy black drapes making him groan again, pulling the covers up over his shoulder trying to settle back and snuggle in pillows that were supposed to be the softest money could buy but today his bed just seemed so ARGH!

"Fine! You win you stupid contraption!"

He snapped at the inanimate object, kicking off the covers in frustration.

(We all know this feeling I'm sure!)

Stretching, bones popping, his yawn much like a cats, small and then stretching to reveal rows of fangs with a curling tongue.

Another glance at his bed sock as he pulled the other off simply to throw it at the offending one while pouting

"Traitor."

So now let's move on to him stripping down to shower as the instrumental of careless whisper plays in our minds and Hat washes himself, soap bubbles and steam miraculously censoring out all the spicy bits, long sweeping shots of legs, hands cleaning his neck and suggestively over two smallish horns protruding just above his brow, looking like he's enjoying his shower way more than any actual person would be.

Waves hand hello, yes hello you there, you can stop drooling now he's out of the shower, in a bathrobe and towel on head despite being lack there of in the hair department.

Toe claws tapping on kitchen tiles, of course he could have someone make his coffee, but he was not ready in the slightest to socialise with the idiots who worked here.

Cupboard doors open, fingers curled around handles, standing there in silence looking over the contents, a clock ticking somewhere in his sterile kitchen.

That's it! He was going out, who in the nine circles could enjoy coffee here!

His bed was uncomfortable, his socks had committed mutiny and now even his kitchen was unwelcoming.

Clapping his hands his suit appearing on him the towels going who knows where, even he did not care!

There was that new coffee shop, it had recently opened, of course he was going to know everything that went on in his town, no one could slip anything past him.

Yes that would be the perfect place to go, being new probably meant the place was not yet popular...hopefully, so then it would not be over crowded, just please don't let it be one of those copy and paste places that held absolutely no charm.

While he was a monster that did not mean he could not appreciate a good atmosphere while enjoying certain beverages.

Heels clicking against marble flooring, cane tucked under his arm, perhaps walking would also lighten his mood, was his lobby always so big?

Hmm perhaps a change was in order.

Upon opening the doors to his home he looked up at the sky, there was a chance of snow or so the weather forecast had predicted, obviously it wouldn’t when he was out.

Black Hat squinted at the clouds, they wouldn't dare.

Of course controlling the weather was not something our miserable fellow here could have charge over and here now we introduce Demencia and Flug, also because I am writing this I've named the doctor /barista Acylius Flug...so... Blep on you.

Now Acylius was in the kitchen, working on making the first batch of muffins, they did not open until at least seven, if they were popular enough they would certainly change it to six to make sure everything was ready on time.

Their café was indeed an inviting place, with deep red walls, high back comfy chairs, circular tables made of dark oak, four books between book ends on each one so someone could read something if they so wished, footstools tucked under chairs and blankets folded on the seats.

Children were not allowed.

Charging ports were optional, though phones had to be on silent.

Wooden beams giving off the impression this place was much older than it was and what art lined the walls which were an assortment of landscapes and portraits Flug would never admit to being their artist.

Demencia was using this job to hopefully pay off outstanding college debts from some years back, there was a two bedroom apartment above the Café where they lived, she got to live here rent free and was still going to be paid.

Apparently her boss and friend was not exactly short handed and sometimes she questioned where the money came from...

Pffft of course she knew about the sedated man down stairs.

"Hey stop panicking gigantor, business is gonna be slow, we just gotta get word out there or listen to customer suggestions, they always like to feel important."

Oh yes did I mention he is also six ft seven and when not torturing keeps his hologuise device off, so you would never compare him to his shorter self with the paper bag and goggles or slight nasally voice...come on now a lot of us have our own design and thoughts on Flug under the bag don't we.

His hologuise has of course been worked so that no one can see his real tall self unless he has it switched off.

"You do not think I am over doing it with the Victorian decor?"

Flug asked awkwardly, while working the white chocolate and raspberry muffin batter.

Nothing was going to come in a premixed cardboard box in his kitchen.

"With that roaring fireplace keeping the place nice n toasty absolutely not, people are gonna love that."

She had a shoulder resting against the door frame and arms folded, watching as Acylius evenly spread the batter into each muffin case.

"Though if no one shows up I am going back to bed, you know you can always join me if you want, help keep it nice and hot."

"Demencia!"

Flug returned, clearly getting flustered a blush forming on his pale skin, placing the tray in the oven, the door clanging shut.

"Now is not the time and anyway would you not prefer someone who does not have a smile permanently carved into their face, I look like I should be quoting Batman Dark Knight lines."

"Awww why so serious!"

The lizard girl teased and only laughed more at his deadpan look only then to be hit in the face by a flying tea towel .

Demencia couldn't help but laugh even more as it was sarcastically followed by

"Oops my hand slipped."

They both paused though when the chiming of the little bell went off, it was their first customer of the day, their first one to arrive at this time...mainly because they actually weren't open yet, not at least for another hour.

Black Hat stood there in the door way, snow thick on his Hat and shoulders, his frown so set in as he shook the cold powder off it could have hit the bloody floor.

The weather had dared to defy him.

Blasted cold wet frozen rain urgh...well this place...it reminded him of a home he’d once known...its styling far too similar it felt like an old parlour , comfortably furnished, a form of nostalgic peace.

The old demon wanted nothing more than to shrug off his coat, put on his fuzzy slippers with bat wings...which of course he'd never in a million years would admit were his and sit by that roaring fire.

(Heh even Mr grumpy pants can be adorable sometimes ;3)

He could hear people around here somewhere, no doubt the kitchen, cane over his arm he walked up to the counter, noticing the empty displays besides a few things in factory sealed plastics.

Sniffing he let out a sigh, a dessert treat was baking, its sweet aroma filling the air, usually our cranky demon here did not care for such things but he would be lying if he said that scent of raspberry and white chocolate with jussst a hint of vanilla did not seem appealing, he could already imagine the tart taste of raspberries on his tongue, wondering how long until those would be ready.

Like kisses from a lover he'd lost so long ago...but that was his story to keep.

Tapping the bell on the desk Demencia came running out paused and went running back, Black Hat rolled his eye and nearly left what awful customer service...when the other one came through, wearing animal oven mitts, he couldn't help but let a small smile form at the corner of his mouth, they were amusing to see on such a tall man...

Time slowed as he turned to face him, like when you see in movies, hair blowing, lighting perfect looking ridiculously gorgeous as the one staring is entranced while the chorus of take my breath away plays out of no where.

He knew that face, pale skin, ebony hair, how did he have the same scars...this man was a duplicate of...

"Sir are you alright?"

Flug asked, shifting as Black Hat had been staring, damn it he knew he should have covered his face up.

Pulling up his white Doctors mask and sighing

"Apologies, I forgot myself, I usually cover them up, did you have an order to make?"

It took Black Hat a moment to come back to reality, clearing his throat and nodding

"Uhhh Black coffee, goats milk-"

"And a dash of Hazelnut!"

Acylius blurted out and froze a moment, crap what if Black Hat didn't like that and he'd just assumed he would and the demon would get mad.

Demencia raised a brow at her friends suggestion, did he just try and finish THEE BLACK HAT'S ORDER!

"Please forgive me sir, I have no idea where that came from."

It was clear while it seemed this man did not remember him, there were old memories lost within that mind, still lingering even in this new life...a part of him still remembered perhaps...he hoped.

"Well there is no need to apologise Acylius, though perhaps I should find out where you are getting your information from."

He teased, leaning in a little.

That made Flug nervous, knocking over the thankfully empty cup, setting it up right again he was about to ask how he knew his name...of course then realising he was wearing his name tag, must've seen it and after all this was Black Hat.

No doubt he knew about the sedated man in the basement.

What our dear six foot seven Barista was really worried about was the demons presence in his newly opened coffee shop.

If the King of darkness hated it no one else would come, then there was a matter of no one else would come unless it was to see Black Hat if he was here all the time.

No that was ridiculous Black Hat would not be here everyday.

So perhaps if this went well, word of mouth would spread that if this place was good enough for Black Hat it was good enough for them and bring in business....oh my god stop thinking and make his drink!

"Please find yourself a seat, I will bring it over, Demencia please turn off the oven, no doubt the muffins are ready now."

"I would like to order one of those to."

"Yes sir, one devil's brew and muffin coming right up!"

Black Hat lingered a moment longer.

Acylius, his Acylius could not have been reborn...no this had to be some peculiar...cruel act of nature.

Karma was finally catching up with him... Yes that was it.

Taking a chair in front of the fire, crimson with a high back, he pulled out the footstool tucked underneath, of course it was facing the counter, he could barely stop looking at him.

Awww our little demon's heart is going boom boom da boom...yes I know cannon wise Hat doesn't have one but that's what Au's are for, free the imagination, anything is possible!

Acylius could still feel his eyes on him, he shivered subtlety, honestly being watched like prey was somewhat thrilling.

All the while though he was concerned he was taking too long to make his coffee as he brewed it and refused to use that instant crap.

(That most of us drink XD)

Turning back , Demencia returned with the display plate now full of muffins, one on a saucer with napkins and small fork.

Placing it on a tray she went on to put the rest where they belonged and noticed the demon watching Flug and grinned

"You like what you see, he's single you know!"

She of course held back nothing with hands on hips adding

"I'm single to but I'm not really looking for anything but come on you've been staring at him like you want him to serve himself on your lap as if he were the most tasty treat on the planet! Long legs, keeps fit-"

"Demencia PLEASE STOP!"

Acylius snapped, blushing bright red, oh god he wanted hell to swallow him up whole, could he just fucking die now please.

" I am so sorry for my co workers behaviour I-"

Flug was so embarrassed that he was completely missing the fact that Black Hat was trying not to laugh.

In any other case he would have simply just left and found it all inane but it was endearing if not bittersweet to see features resembling a lost one look so flustered, he'd always found it cute when his Acylius blushed.

Legs out on his footstool, ankles crossed, he laced his fingers and looked as serious as this entire scenario would possibly allow.

The fire crackling as both co workers stood there in silence, Demencia still grinning, oh ho the legendary master of all evil was actually considering Acylius as a snack!

Of course if her ridiculously tall friend didn't want any of that, she would be more than happy to mount the beast to her wall...bed...any available surface.

Black Hat waved a hand and spoke evenly

"I will let it slide on one condition."

Acylius gripped the tray, where was this going.

"What is it sir?"

"Call me Jefecito."

"But I, you are not..."

He sighed and gave a momentary glare at Demencia, bringing over the coffee and cake.

"Coffee is served, Jefecito, is there anything else you would like?"

"Yes, when I am here, only you are to serve me."

Hat replied, holding his coffee, the bottom of the cup making a clinking sound on the saucer, drinking he felt a comforting familiar warmth spilling down his throat.

"Kinky."

Demencia chirped out.

In which Acylius hid his face behind the tray wishing for death and Hat near choked on his coffee.