#where he thinks he’s super street smart and all that but he’s the quite literal definition of a book smart kid

[the-son-of-pluto]

Race is the type of guy to create a detailed guide of how he’s going to cheat on a test. Like he goes through the course syllabus and specifically picks out the topic they’re currently learning about, then looks at the course textbook and memorizes all the important events, dates and vocabulary. He writes them down in his notebook, adds annotations, jots down the causes & effects of each event and looks over everything the night before. Then when Test Day comes, he’ll know all the answers and the teacher won’t be any the wiser!

then race recites his entire cheating plan to spot and spots like: Race that’s just Studying .

[auyuyu006]

Johnshi HCs

I'm sorry most of these aren't explicitly romantic I just have so many HCs about the two of them it's driving me crazy.

Johnny holds Kenshi by the waist, Kenshi holds Johnny by the shoulder or the bicep. After some time Kenshi starts to go for his hand instead.

Johnny is on his phone all of the time. Kenshi will either avoid the internet for a week or plays chess on the computer at the kitchen table for a day straight without talking to anyone (secretly uses Sento for this).

Kenshi has good spirits (literally) when it comes to his blindness, but can get very defensive when others pity him for it. Johnny is the only other person he will let touch his blindfold, take it off, or wash it.

Kenshi doesn't love the name "Johnny Cage" and thinks that "John Carlton" suits him. Johnny thinks that it sounds like an "old man's name"

Kenshi would visit Johnny on set sometimes but not say or do anything but sit in the background and watch him in silence until he was done.

Speaking of that- Kenshi had a good time filming in Outworld for Johnny's movie (made him feel like an action hero), but absolutely refused to watch the parts he was in.

Kenshi thought Johnny's movies were mostly cheesy before and after meeting him. However, he ended up rewatching all of them and got excited when there was news he got cast for a new one (before they started to officially date).

Johnny was a pretty good student growing up who made A's and B's as per expectations of his parents but hated school because he got picked on. He got into a decent university where he ended up falling in love with physics. He accidentally became famous around the time he was 20 (maybe he got street casted and went viral?) and had to balance acting with school to get his pHD. He is that school's most famous alumni.

Kenshi was mostly homeschooled by his parents and did not show much attention in academics in his youth due to his intense upbringing in the yakuza. This is something that he regrets but accepts that it wasn't really his choice to begin with. However he is quite knowledgable, knows broadly about history and literature, and can speak multiple languages (Japanese, Chinese, Korean, English, Spanish). He also learns braille relatively fast after losing eyesight.

Kenshi thinks it's so hot that Johnny has a pHD but also thinks its so strange he doesn't do anything with it. (It's a backup plan so he can write textbooks if his career tanks)

Johnny is great at drawing due to it being a hobby growing up stemming from him being a major comic book fan. Kenshi isn't very artistic however used to be able to do mediocre calligraphy (a skill he learned from his parents) before he became blind.

Kenshi breaking into Cage Mansion the second Cris left was admittedly pretty awkward for him (but he was too distracted by Sento to rly care).

Kenshi tries to not let it get to him, but he is saddened by the fact he cannot read properly anymore. Johnny tries to support him by buying him every audiobook in every language he understands. Kenshi will sometimes ask Johnny to read to him mostly because he loves the sound of his voice.

At first, Kenshi tried to get Sento to help him with daily tasks (cooking, cleaning, etc.), but after talking to Kuai Liang he tries not to rely on Sento on anything non-kombat related.

Kenshi has a slight lisp (I'm sorryyyy this isn't rly a hc but you can hear it in his intro dialogues he still sounds like a badass tho i think it's super cute thank god for Vic Chao)

Johnny makes their home a "smart home" a.k.a 30 Alexas in every room of their place, and a Samsung fridge he can live tweet from while making green juice.

Kenshi sometimes used to drive with Sento in the back seat and got arrested for it one time. Now he gets told off by Johnny for it every time he tries it again.

Kenshi will only drink milky coffee (lattes, cappuccinos, etc.) and prefers tea. Johnny hates coffee and tea and pounds red bull in the morning.

Kenshi used to care a lot about his personal style and mostly only wore suits and dress attire. After losing his eyesight, he didn't care as much anymore and just focused on wearing things that were comfortable (sweatpants, sweaters)

Johnny buys Kenshi soft fluffy things to wear all the time. Kenshi always says it's unnecessary but ends up wearing it anyway.

In MK1 Johnny is 32, and Kenshi is 39 (I like the idea of Kenshi being old it just makes sense to me). It both amuses and horrifies Kenshi that he's dating a white man 7 yrs his junior.

Johnny calls him "old man Takahashi" and Kenshi just goes along with it and says "get off my lawn you punk" or something LOL

I think Kenshi was more of the brawny "tough guy" of the yakuza than the suave, seductive type. He has more of an awkward and stony personality. And the fact that he was desperate to get out makes me think he wouldn't entertain the "flirty" role of the job. (a.k.a Kenshi is BAD at flirting unlike a certain someone)

Johnny sometimes helps Kenshis clunky azz samurai gear on before he engages in kombat. Johnny is also the reason Kenshi sometimes gives up and just wears a suit.

Kenshi shops like an old Asian dad. LOVES Costco, will eat all of the samples. Will buy everything on sale even if he doesn't need it. Will not take Johnny with him because his megastardom ruins the peace of being unrecognized. Has taken Raiden with him though. Will use Johnny's credit card. Johnny is dismayed that he hasn't taken a liking to Erewhon and Whole Foods

When Johnny isn't there with him at night Kenshi will play his movies and fall asleep to the sound of his voice

Kenshi will have sex with the blindfold on. He will fall asleep next to Johnny with it off.

Kenshi doesn't like sleeping with the blindfold on, but was worried it would scare or disgust Johnny in some way. It doesn't and it never did. In fact, Johnny appreciates the intimacy that it creates.

[bellewintersroe]

Band of brothers headcanons, how they react to accidentally upsetting you.

I just felt like writing something a little angsty because who doesn’t love that 😈

Eugene Roe:

This mf would be so confused, hear me out ok.

he’s so so smart and kind and caring, legit perfect, but humans do make mistakes! So in Gene’s case I feel like he maybe doesn’t understand why you may be frustrated/ hurt in a specific scenario.

“but I don’t understand, you said it was fine, like two secundz ago.” The boy is DUMBFOUNDED and then because you’re so frustrated and probably just tired for one reason or another, you burst into tears.

genes eyes widen and then he realised he’s probably messed up by not at least trying to understand.

ahhhh he’d spring off his feet, and kinda dither in front of you, a little confused. He’d be SO apologetic and his hands would kinda smooth over your hair, fixing it from where you’d messed it up slightly.

Gene would kinda click that he made you upset pretty quickly, so I think he’d be prepared to do anything he can to make you feel better as soon as possible. Lewis Nixon:

I feel like with Lewis his drinking settles massive when he meets you, he’s happy and doesn’t need alcohol as an outlet.

But maybe in the early days of your relationship, like you’re in Austria or somewhere, he gets a little too drunk and it completely ruins the plan you put so much effort in for you both.

the morning after is when I think Lewis knows he’s fucked up. He’d spring out of his bed, no hangover could set him back, and he’s hurrying to find you immediately.

turns up at your door all dishevelled and your friend is like ‘no you’re not speaking to her’ but with some pleading it works. She’s ballsy, because he is her superior after all.

apologises like crazy, asks what he can do to fix it? I think he’d genuinely feel such a strong sense of guilt, that whatever he did won’t ever happen again because the sad little look on your face sticks with him for a longggg time.

Babe Heffron:

“Babe, I think you upset her…”

“Wha’? What’d I do?!” Kinda baffled ngl, but either way all he cares about is that you’re upset. I think it would when the two of you were still friends, and he friend zoned you HARD after months of flirting and showing interest. Obviously he doesn’t mean to do this because you’re beautiful and so perfect, and he’s kinda in love with you.

chases after you down the street, well not literally, but he wants to see if you’re okay.

he’s so cute, and you’re so nervous to admit why it upset you, so he kinda takes a good few minutes just putting the pieces together until he’s like. “Oh… OH! You mean? You mean that ya’ upset because ya’ thought I only saw you as just a friend?!”

he’s in awe that you have the same feelings, he’s truly blind to it, but feels bad after because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. He just honestly thought there wasn’t a chance on earth than you’d feel the same.

Joe Liebgott:

Probably says something in the heat of the moment that he doesn’t mean.

Panic immediately after when he realises what he actually said. But you’re so pissed off you just snap right back at him and storm off, getting the space you need.

now Joe can be rash in the heat of the moment, but he isn’t a fool, nor is he mean spirited or nasty. He genuinely cares about you, he hates that he said something just outta pure anger.

you bet he’d be lingering outside your bedroom door, sighing dramatically and knocking as he anxiously awaits your response.

cuddles you like crazy, apologises pretty soon, especially if the argument has cooled down. He’d make it up for you by taking you on a long drive in his cab, buys you flowers, anything you want because you’re his girl and you deserve it.

although Joe can be quite rash, he is a huge softie, so I don’t think it’s EVER a common occurrence when he says something hurtful to you. It’s probably a one off? People always make mistakes, Joe doesn’t take that lightly on himself however.

super gentle with you afterwards, wishes he could truly take his words back. Vows to never upset you like that ever again, and you best believe he sticks to it.

George Luz:

I feel like it would be a joke taken a little too far by accident.

he’d find you crying and he panics omg he’s like “what?! No, no, what’s wrong?!”

Then you’d be all like “is that what you think of me?!” And it takes a moment to click in his mind when he’s like- “oh SHIT!”

panics that he upset you, he’s upset himself for making you feel that way.

but he’s just a big ball of love and reassurance, you know from how genuinely serious he is that he didn’t mean to upset you.

maybe tries to crack another joke after, but this time it’s actually funny.

Ron Speirs:

Ron is a clever man, he really understands your emotions and what hurts them.

so when you’re upset in front of a group of people, Ron has no choice but to remain professional, no matter how much it hurts.

kinda can’t do anything other than just stare at you hoping you’re getting the message. He’s all wide eyed and flustered and wants to move on from whatever they’re all doing so he can attend to you.

it probably eats him up all day after that, more than it does you.

no matter how much you understand why he must act like that, it still stung just a tincy, tiny bit.

ron needs you alone. When he finds you he’s wrapping his arms around you immediately. I don’t think he’d be the best with expressing his emotions sometimes, so he’d mutter apologies into your ear, holding you close so you can’t look back and make eye contact with him.

eye contact would make him nervous- plus why does he kinda feel choked up?!

nah but seriously, Ron would beat himself up for having to act like that around you. He hates it. When he meets you you’ll 1000% see more of an emotional side to what the army does (obviously) so it’s upsetting for him when he can’t freely express himself in front of you.

Bill Guarnere:

“What’d I do?!”

“I think you upset her, Bill…”

“Ahhh, shit…” Bill is DUMBFOUNDED. he has quite a brash sense of humour, especially with his buddies. So when he maybe takes a joke too far in front of them all about you he doesn’t click straight away why you’ve left the table.

like you’d move to sit with some of your other buddies and he’d probably come over with a sigh, sitting down next to you. Lmao I feel like you’d just give him the cold shoulder??

he’s a head strong guy, right, but I think even he’d be a little bit puzzled on what to do. Just watches you in confusion whilst you completely blank him before removing himself from the situation.

probs gives you time and space to cool off before one of his buddies tells him he should get you some flowers or something.

“I ain’t doin’ tha’!”

turns up 30 mins later with a bunch of flowers and lots of hugs and kisses.

[copperbadge]

Hey Sam, it looks like I'll be in Chicago for a few days next May. I'm going through all the typical sight seeing websites, but do you have any recommendations for a first time visitor? I'm not huge on architecture, parks or crowds. History, art and music are a big yes. I'm considering the Big Bus hop on/off tour for practicality. Any tips would be appreciated!

I used to have a "guide to Chicago" that I would link people to, but I think it probably badly needs updating, since a lot of what it talks about is pre-pandemic, and some places don't exist anymore (which is not necessarily down to the pandemic, Chicago is an ever-changing place). RIP Apocalypse McDonalds. Definitely before you follow anyone's advice including mine, look up what you're going to go see to make sure it's still there.

So, couple of quick recommendations; thanks for telling me some of what you're into, that always helps :) I'm going to assume you're either staying somewhere close to downtown or willing to trek into the city from outside it. A lot of people who tell me they're visiting Chicago are actually visiting Rosemont, which is a nice place but not Chicago and not super close to most of what I'll be talking about. Chicago is extremely large, and if you are staying around the O'Hare airport area (Rosemont) it will be an hour by public transit or at least $50 by rideshare/cab to get downtown.

I will say whenever I'm visiting somewhere, my first stop is always Atlas Obscura, which usually lists the really weird shit to do. :D

I've never done the Big Bus tour, but it's much nicer to do it in May than, say, December, and the people I know who've done it found it a convenient and inexpensive way to get around the city without having to deal with public transit, so while I can't personally recommend, I've only heard good things.

I know you said you weren't into architecture, but if you want to see a lot of Chicago in a very relaxed fashion, while incidentally getting some architecture knowledge, it's tough to beat the Chicago Architecture Center's boat tour. You just get on the boat, buy a drink if you want one, sit back, and drift down the river and back while someone narrates the history of Chicago architecture to you. You'll also, in May, see lots of other folks out on the river and get a real taste of Chicago's downtown scene. If you'd like to see the river without the cost of the architecture tour, I'd check out the water taxis and see if there's an opportunity to take one when going between other places you're visiting. They do a lot of tourist-destination stops.

For history, the Chicago History Museum is a natural fit and a lot of walking tours leave from the museum, although most of them are architecture :D I would also HIGHLY recommend Adam Selzer's Mysterious Chicago tours; Selzer is a very smart local historian and if you'd like to do reading ahead of time I also highly recommend his book Ghosts of Chicago. If he's offering a tour of Rose Hill or Graceland cemeteries, I'd jump on that; Graceland was my old "home" cemetery (it was literally my backyard for about a decade) and I think it's extremely interesting and beautiful. If you do go to Graceland, I can recommend Byron's nearby as a great place to get a burger, fries, Italian Beef, or a hot dog. But pretty much any tour he offers I would recommend whether I've been on it or not, he's great.

For art, again, the natural choice is the Art Institute Museum; to avoid lines, I'd recommend buying your museum ticket ahead of time and entering through the Modern Wing on Monroe Street, which is less attractive but also way less crowded than the "Lions" entrance on Michigan Avenue. I always recommend people make sure not to miss the Thorne Miniatures (they're in the basement so easy to miss, but any docent can direct you there) and the Ugliest Vase in the World. They move the vase around quite a bit, but if you check the website for the Londonderry Vase before you go, it'll tell you where to find it. Its hideousness must be seen in person. Also make sure not to miss the Chagall windows, they're off in a corner by the entrance to the cafe.

I'm not really much on music so my reccs are weaker there, but if you'd like some Chicago blues in a tourist-friendly environment, Kingston Mines is good, as is Buddy Guy's (which also has great food and is closer to downtown). If you like fried chicken, Harold's Chicken Shack is near Buddy Guy's (it's all over, it's a small chain, but that's usually the easiest one for people to find). The Chicago Symphony Orchestra is pretty great for classical music, and in the summer they often have special guests. If you like the NPR show "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me", they record live in downtown Chicago at the Fine Arts building; you usually have to buy pretty far in advance, keep an eye on tickets here.

More general recommendations: the Museum of Science and Industry is really fun, especially with kids but even without, but it's also the furthest out from downtown and can take some work to get to. Field Museum and Shedd Aquarium are both fun times, although the Shedd is kinda pricey I think. They're right next to each other though so a day doing both is convenient. If you are doing any of the museums, keep your eyes peeled for the "Mold A Rama" machines, where for $5 you can watch the machine injection-mold you a souvenir. Often the museums have custom machines for various exhibits (the Death exhibit at the Field had a skull one, for instance).

There are two train systems in Chicago: the "El" (the color-coded trains you see in movies all the time) and the Metra. DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES TAKE THE METRA TRAIN ANYWHERE. The Metra is a commuter rail designed for people who know how to use it, and they don't announce stops or even sometimes have signage; often the train won't stop at a platform unless it's told to during certain times of day. It is extremely easy to get extremely lost on the Metra and end up somewhere you do not want to be. If you are taking public transit, even if it seems less convenient, stick to buses and the El trains. The El and Metra run on different tracks so it's easy to avoid the Metra, but I always like to warn folks.

Okay, I think that's the highlights, minus some parks and such; I hope you have a great time! Feel free to hit me if you have questions.

[grokebaby]

TAGBACK !!! HAI ELVIS :33 since you asked me about Pokémon recently, I wanted to ask you something back as a nicey exchange !!! What Pokémon would the judges of hell have in their team ? I'm especially curious to hear about Delilah's because she seems like an elite 5 girl <3

HAIII MAELL!! NICEY EXCHANGE :3

You're so right tho I feel like they'd all be elite gym members but I. Don't know enough about Pokémons actual story to say for sure enough. But I'm sure Hart is barely just in it anymore just for the sake of having SOMEONE on the role cough just like it's actual job cough. And basically like. Hands out badges on a whim. But anywaysies Judgement time!!

DELILAH - Favors generally loyal and intelligent Pokémon but keeps her team small and close. Likely has given some of her Pokémon to Deirdre and her nieces/nephews<3 (And. Lassi)

•Persian (alolan) - inherited from her foregone mentor Stevious. It's a mean old bitch who acts like an evil advisor to her, and though it's a nasty fighter, prefers not to participate that often. Named Tourmaline, and it was spoiled rotten by Stevious back in the day, acting brattish towards Delilah initially but warming up to her surprisingly quick (at least what's considered quick for a creature like this). It's quite possessive protective of Delilah these days and does not receive most people kindly. Lassi can pet dear old Tourmaline only with treats. He'll get there.. At least it doesn't hiss at him anymore.

•Raticate - Now you might not have expected something like this from Delilah, but she and Deirdre caught it back when they were youngins living on the streets of the neutral district. It's an old and stubborn thing and a ferocious fighter, though getting slow with age. It's known these two since being a rattata and would literally die and kill for both. You'd think it doesn't get along with Tourmaline but those two have earned each other's mutual respect. Delilah keeps them both in her office. This old bastard is named Raggy, and is family bonded to Deirdres personal Rattata, Shaggy. Both Raggy and Shaggy are nicer to Lassi, but ol Rag tends to chew his pens..

•Scolipede and Centiskorch - mentioning simultaneously bc they belong to Delilah's "battle team", and usually spend time only to fight or do other important tasks. They've been trained well, but aren't on the same emotional level as Tourmaline and Raggy, where she'd keep them close by at all times. During earlier times, one or both accompanied Lassi around the Pride district to keep him safe, but Delilah has now dispensed them to watch over two of Deirdres kids, Meredith and Mihail. They take their job extremely seriously and do it well.

•Gothitelle - was given to her by Hart when it was a Gothorita, as a sort of Welcome to your new job as the Pride Judge kinda thing. It's diligent and switches between accompanying Delilah and paroling the Pride district. It's independent, smart and efficient, and keeps track of things for her. That's certainly enough enrichment for it, however due to being just a powerhouse, it also participates in the Battle Team. At least when shit gets serious.

XERXES - This man is ALL about that grind he probably trains his Pokémon hardcore (but also cherishes them super hard they're his biggest warriors). He's the one out of the three still actually invested in battling as a concept and not just means to an end.

•Sunflora - Yes, really. First Pokémon he ever caught, possibly by accident. It's his childhood friend and he loves sunflowers so it's important to him but he probably was bullied alot for having a "stupid little flower Pokémon" so he used to be really hesitant to let it battle. It eventually became really skilled though but got badly wounded when Xerxes was training for his current position (likely in a battle against his mentor's Pokémon - she was ruthless), and so it's retired. He waters it lovingly and keeps it safe in his home. Man's best friend still.

•Bastiodon - big, tough, and is literally compared to being an immovable object one time. Absolutely. Hardass. It's lazy and cozy off hours but very eager to get up and fight, and Xerxes himself has to try restraining it every so often so it doesn't level yet another wall. Means well but is too easy to rile up and plays too rough. Likes scratchies

•Rampardos - (gestures to the previous section) Yes. Again fits the vibe to a T. It's playful and also eager to fight, as well as very intelligent and well trained. However off hours it likes fiending up Bastiodon to try and make it rampage all over, for shits and giggles. This is the catalyst for all the troubles bc these two Pokémon usually fight in a duo. They're besties. And also like bothering each other. Likes scratchies too.

•Emboar - probably the friendliest next to Bastiodon but unlike that one it's actually among the least rowdy. It's one of the newest additions and was taken in as a Pignite and is very fond of Xerxes<3 it tries to act as the mediator and quote on quote second in command to the rest of the team but the success of that is debatable.

•Pheromosa - Was traded with Ngah, either as a challenge or some weird nemesis bond thing. As opposed to Xerxes, Ngah views her Pokémon more as assets than an equal team, so she wasn't too torn up about it emotionally. This one regularly refuses to interact with the rest of the team except minimally, and though it obeys Xerxes and fights superbly (Ngahs training), the bond is professional. It doesn't exactly miss Ngah, but has trouble adjusting to the atmosphere. Xerxes treats it kindly and allows it time to itself outside the pokeball (again, contrary to Ngah)

HART - Probably has a million Pokémon adopted and hoarded saved from everywhere but I'll focus on the ones that are considered "The Main Team".

They're all dittos.

Now, there is strategy to this. What everyone else thinks Hart's team is, goes:

Claydol, Cofagrigus, Sigilyph, Banette and Tentacruel. But in truth, each ditto plays one of these during all battles and official occasions where they'd need show face. However the secret might spill sometimes, seeing as how when Hart battles other high judgements (angel or demon), it makes it's dittos copy whichever Pokémon the opponent has. Hart loves to be annoying and weird, it's the only motivation to still stay on the job.

According to Hart's coworkers, such as Delilah, some if not all of these shapeshifting choices are influenced by past and foregone team members. Of course, when you've been around for as long as Hart has, you're bound to loose some Pokémon one way or another.. It's apparently a way to honor their memory. But, who knows..

[cloutchaserkineme]

midnight disco by proxy

Feb. 21, 2024, 11:59 PM, somewhat near a beach whose lots are owned by celebrities and politicians

I'm a working student, and I love my job. Writing is quite possibly the skill that I have consistently honed the most since I was young, and the fact that I get to write about what I want and they edit and publish it just like that, that my work lets people give me answers when I ask them questions... it's very much addicting to me.

I was born on a Mercury day, under a Mercury hour, with my chart ruler itself ruled by a Mercury-ruled sign. If I didn't love writing and words and talking to people and finding out about the world, I'd be dead. Or at least, not me.

So when my work gives me the opportunity to go to a street festival (I LOVE hearing street drums, they're my favorite live instrument and so accessible where I'm from) in a town close to a well-known but not super touristy beach, with free transportation and accomodation, you bet your ass I'd skip introductory class for Constitutional Law II!!

Which I did. They discussed house rules and case digests, and I didn't miss much, which was fine to me. I preferred watching people dance uninhibitedly and clamoring over a boodle fight than be stuck in my house with headphones on.

But the thing is, you can take the student out of law school, but you sure as hell can't take the law workload out of said student. 😭😭 which is why I am sitting in our guide's house, listening to the speakers a literal mile away blast out my favorite throwback, ass shaking, leg waggling songs.

(I have, of course, finished some cases and did do some reading before I admitted sleepiness and put it away. But I didn't join my workmates because the hassle, the tiredness, the fact that it would be so awkward because I don't know them Like That, to party and get down and embarass myself on the streets— literally, since the approx. three meter tall speakers were on the concrete highway, closed to motorcycles and cars, in order to fulfill its annual secondary purpose as the festival's open access free-for-all dance floor.)

First day of criminal procedure tomorrow! And 16 cases is a baby breeze compared to the hurricane of last year's 60 for Criminal Law (which I didn't finish or submit) and 20 for Constitutional Law I/Political Law (which I did finish writing but did not read thoroughly because 20 cases x100something pages is insane for me as a beginner). But I can't finish it all anyway, and with a somewhat vague recollection of court jurisdictions, I feel monkey-confident that I'll be fine if called tomorrow.

I have been through one semester of law school where that monkey-confidence feeling was very, VERY wrong, and misleading, and did not serve me usefully at all.

So IDK what street they'd scrape me off of after the end of this.

I'm thinking I'm getting a horrible reputation of being an elitist, mildly smart snob because of how quiet I normally am around them and my non-participation in work outings. But I have to read this!

Anyway, I am already here, chilling and taking a somewhat paid vacation (oh, the woes of the minimally waged) from the city. Even though the driver hates us because of a miscommunication (between pick-up times and his stress from lack of sleep and food— which led to him endangering our lives for approx. 3 hrs by overtaking four cars on a double yellow lane highway and going faster when we hinted he was going too fast), I still enjoyed my brief moment here, with the drums.

God, I love hearing drums live. Street dance competitions where I'm from (street as in, Carnaval in Rio, not Step Up 2: The Streets, though I would gladly watch the latter too if there were any around here) always have repetitive melodies since there's rarely any incentive to creatively bang out sticks on water drums and LPG tanks besides an additional 2 points on some judge's paper. But the drums are so LOUD and OUT THERE.

It is the only form of big noise that I like. Concerts and dance halls I get tired of after an hour or if the playlist sucks, ambulance and fire protection wangs make me too anxious, and me and my friend's big laughters are always followed by a shushing by our Obligatory Shusher (sometimes me) so that other people won't find us too annoying and kick us out of places.

But God, drums. LOOK AT ME I AM HERE I AM THE BEATING OF YOUR HEART AND YOUR MOTHER'S HEART THE FIRST AUDITORY TASTE OF THE MATERIAL WORLD AND THE WAVES THAT WILL AFFECT YOU FROM HERE AND OUT. LISTEN, AND MOVE, OR NOT— YOUR VIBRATION IS INEVITABLE. I AM AIR, COMPRESSED AND EXPANDED, IN YOUR LUNGS AND OUT OF IT. I WILL STARTLE YOU. IT IS GOOD FOR YOUR SOUL, TO BE SHAKEN OCCASSIONALLY IN ITS SHELL AS A SORT OF INTEGRITY TEST. HEED. MY. THUMPING. CALL!!!

...I really should be studying law better. I need to be a lawyer because with my skill set, that's how I'd make the most money and still help out in the community. I need money for a plane ticket, a passport, a visa, secure and clean accommodation, and money to happily buy food and presents for my loved ones (who may or may not be traveling with me! On my dime!) in the street festivals I hope to witness live in the world.

(30) 12:29 AM, February 22, 2024, same place.

[missnobodymadness]

for the oc-creator relationship asks ^^ (finally got time to get to this one ;w; ) 📼 🎙️ 📻 🎮 👾

Hiiii, how have you been doing?! I'm so happy to see you around! :D Thank you so much for sending me some asks, I really missed answering those. ♥

Alright, let's gooo!

📼 - Which OC is your favorite?

I'm gonna be so biased for this, but...my girl Myline. She has a very simple design but our history is priceless...I've had her for almost two decades now, she was the first character I ever created and has so so much value to me! I met one of my favorite people because of her back when Naruto RPCs were super popular, we are friends to this day!

Myline is not just an original character for me, she symbolizes all the good and bad moments of my life and was always there for me, Myline is coming to the grave with me. :P

🎙️ - Which OC is liked in their universe that you do not like?

Gotta give this one to Dakarai, that abusive piece of poop. He is basically the typical wanna be hero, he hides his true self from others while abusing his family and being the worst son of a gun ever behind their back.

📻 - Which OC is disliked in their universe that you like?

And...Myline again. :'D She is considered as a terrorist and even her kid gets the side eye despite having nothing to do with her mother because people are full of prejudice and can't really think for themselves.

She literally has been pursued by the Five Great Shinobi Countires (especially by Kumogakure) in Boruto, even though Akatsuki was long gone, my girl can get no rest.

I guess this quote of her says a lot:

"My hands may be the ones covered in blood right now but the reality you refuse to see is that I am not the one standing proudly over a thousand dead bodies"

🎮 - Which OC is the worst person, in your opinion?

Since the question says "person", I will go with my humanoids and Masha is by far the worst. She is a cannibal and that alone says a lot already, but she is also vindictive, remorseless and impulsive, this along with how street smart and sneaky she is makes her quite scary.

👾 - Which OC is the best person, in your opinion?

My precious girl Aisha, for sure! Believe me when I say this woman had all the right to turn into a villain (I actually have an AU of her where she is but it's mostly for RP purposes with a friend of mine) but she never lost her hope and strength to fight for a better future...and what a great future she would build for herself, turning into a woman of power!

She is very social, friendly, hardworking and open-minded, with very strong humanitarian traits and the kind of friend you think about calling when you need that help. Whenever people ask me which OC of mine I'd like to be I always say Aisha. :P

[westcoastrry]

Can’t Help If This Is Us

Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue​ . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.

Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!

literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.

WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.

I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words

A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.

Fuck me like you wanna make love

Call me when you wanna stay in touch

Lie together just to gain trust

Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us

Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.

It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.

She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?

“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.

Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?

“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.

“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.

Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.

Only real men drink black coffee.

She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”

“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.

“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”

“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.

Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.

Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.

“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”

Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.

Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.

Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.

“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.

“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.

“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”

“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”

“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”

“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.

“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.

“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”

Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”

“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”

“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”

Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”

Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.

It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.

The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.

It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.

And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.

Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.

So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.

+++

The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.

“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”

“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”

“I believe in you! Now go!”

Knock

Knock

It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.

Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.

Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.

Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”

“You just came here to bring me flowers?”

“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.

Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.

She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.

Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.

“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”

Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.

Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.

Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.

“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”

“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”

Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.

Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”

“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.

Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.

She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.

“Kiara?”

That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.

Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.

Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”

“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Who told you that,” Harry counters.

Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.

“I thought you were into blonde models?”

“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.

“Google.”

Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”

“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”

Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.

Killing two birds with one stone.

Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.

If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.

“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”

“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.

“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”

Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”

However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.

“Kiara-”

“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”

Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.

Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.

“You want this,” Harry whispers.

“I need this,” Kiara responds back.

“Tell me what you need Kiara.”

Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.

“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.

With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.

“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”

“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.

“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.

“I can handle it.”

“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.

“Mhmm, yes please.”

Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.

“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”

“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”

“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”

Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.

“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.

Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.

“M’mmm. A little higher please?”

Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.

“Here? Is this good?”

“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.

“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”

Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.

He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.

“Stay still love.”

“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Why don’t you ask to cum?”

Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”

“You are if you wanna be good for me.”

“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”

Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”

“So what?” Harry asks her.

“Dominant.”

“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”

“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.

Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.

“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“No.”

Smack.

“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”

Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.  

It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.

“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.

“Say sorry.”

“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”

Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”

“Yes please.”

Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”

Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.

Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”

Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.

Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.

“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”

Kiara nods her head.

“Verbal consent Kiara.”

“Yes please.”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.

Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.

“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”

When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.

“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.

When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.

Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”

Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.

“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.

Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.

For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.

Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.

And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.

Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.

“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”

“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.

Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.

“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.

“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.

“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.

“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”

“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.

Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.

“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.

Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.

“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.

Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.

Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”

Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”

Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.

Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.

“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”

Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.

He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.

“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.

Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.

Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.

“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.

“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.

Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.

Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth

“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.

“I will. But let me suck you off first.”

Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.

Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.

He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.

“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”

She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.

“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”

Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.

“Yeah I can.”

“Well what are you waiting for?”

Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.

Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.

“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”

Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.

Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.

“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”

“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.

“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”

“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.

“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”

Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”

Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”

“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.

Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.

Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.

“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”

Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.

This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.

Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.

“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”

Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.

Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.

Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.

How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.

He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.

“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.

“I didn’t use a condom.”

“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.

Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”

“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”

Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.

“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”

“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”

There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.

“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”

“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”

“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”

“Water would be great.”

Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.

Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.

Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”

Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”

“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”

“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”

Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.

“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.

“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”

Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”

Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.

“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”

“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”

“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”

Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”

“What brought you to New York then?”

“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”

“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”

There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”

“I want you to stay the night.”

Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.

“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.

+++

Harry is awake before Kiara.

Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.

However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.

Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.

He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.

Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.

“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”

Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”

Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.

Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”

“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.

Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.

He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.

And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.

“I-”

Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.

“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”

Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.

Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.

The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.

“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.

Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”

“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.

“Are you mad?”

Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.

“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.

“You’re crying, Kiara.”

“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”

That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.

Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”

Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.

+++

“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.

Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.

“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.

“You're joking.”

“Nope. Pass me your purse.”

Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.

“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”

“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”

“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”

Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”

“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”

“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”

“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”

“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”

“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.

Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.

“Let me take you out drinking after work.”

Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”

+++

While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.

There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.

Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.

And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.

Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?

+++

When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).

The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).

Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.

The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”

“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.

Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”

“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”

Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”

The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.

Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”

“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”

She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.

The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.

“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.

“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”

Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.

“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”

“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”

Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”

“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”

“Yes. He works for Harry.”

Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.

“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.

“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”

Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”

“Kiara? Trina?”

Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.

He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.

“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.

Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”

“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”

Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.

“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”

“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.

Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”

“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”

“Trina please.”

It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.

Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”

Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”

“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.

“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”

“He always seems so tense.”

Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”

“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.

Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”

“What? I thought things were going great!”

“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”

“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”

“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”

“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”

Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”

“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”

Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”

“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”

“I can tell you that's not Harry.”

“Am I ready for this?”

Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”

“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”

Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.

“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”

“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”

“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.

“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.

“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”

“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”

“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.

“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”

Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”

“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”

Slap

Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.

“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.

He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”

“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”

“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”

“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.

Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.

“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”

“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”

“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”

Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.

“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.

“Dorian, you need to go.”

“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”

“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”

“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”

“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”

“You don’t want to test me boy--”

“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”

Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”

Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”

“What just happened?” Kiara questions.

“Trina just take her to the car.”

+++

The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.

“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.

Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”

“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.

“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”

“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”

Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”

+++

Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.

“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”

Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.

He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry’s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.

“Wine makes me horny.”

“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”

“Why was that guy asking you for money?”

“Asking me anything but that.”

“Okay. Did you mean it?”

Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”

“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”

Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”

Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”

“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”

“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”

Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.

“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.

“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”

“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”

“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”

“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”

“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.

“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”

“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”

Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”

“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”

Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”

“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”

“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.

“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”

Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”

Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”

“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”

Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.

Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.

He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.

[gildedmuse]

Hey, everyone.

So recently I've (predictably) very not well. Actually, whenever I don't post for long periods, just assume my body is trying to kill me. But I've gotten messages from three people asking if I. Okay, which is super sweet. I am actually trying to work on the next All Hearts, a really long ZoLaw post and two request fics, but mixing chronic kidney pain and capitalist society's mandate to work 40+ hours is not recommended.

But to prove I'm okay and still me, here is some Shanks antics with him being a total slut while Mihawk and Beckman just roll their eyes and go along with it. [Shout out to @jhaernyl who not only listens to me ramble about this stuff, but actively encourages it]. I also have many thoughts on the latest episodes and so many screenshots it's embarrassing. Hopefully, when I'm in less pain, I'll get around to actually posting those. Otherwise I just look like an insane person who literally takes by the second frame shots every time Zoro is on screen.

.... What is that? I look like that anyway? Fair.

Shanks Is A Bad Influence

It feels like Buggy and Shanks split up after Roger's death (the crew was told to, and they are the only ones who went to his execution) and I find it impossible to think Shanks didn't immediately set out and find a crew; like, pirating is the only thing this kid knows in life. This means two things:

He set out from East Blue. Also, he seemed at ease and familiar with the East so it's possible he spent like a year there getting everything together. Maybe he even played around in the other blues for a while before heading back to the Grand Line. I say this because his crew is from all over so either he found and recruited them in the Grand Line or visited various blues. Either way, I'm gonna say it took him about two years before getting a 'proper' start. In that case, he would have started out properly at the age of 17 and we know One Piece likes it's parallels.

That still puts Shanks at 17 to Benn Beckmen's 28. How the fuck did Shanks manage that? I'd call it grave robbing, but let's face it, the little tyke probably got up to some actual robbing of graves as well.

My point being everytime Shanks teases Mihawk about keeping this 19 year old kid on his personal island, mostly shirtless, Benn Beckmen just lifts an eyebrow.

Excuse me, captain, who had prefected the 'opps still don't have my sea legs' trip-and-fall into their first mates lap by the age of 17?

Shanks: Beckmen, you caught me! *Shamelessly nuzzles up* Thank goodness! I could be a devil's fruit user after all and - Ahh!

Benn: *Drops Shanks straight over the side of the ship into the water*

Shanks: *Sputtering* What what that!?

Benn: Checking to see if you had eaten a devil's fruit on us, Capatin.

Benn: You didn't.

Smart ass. But he can't resist Shanks forever. Shanks will wear him down eventually.

Next time Mihawk tracks him down for another match - because you know he gets bored way quicker than he'll ever admit and Shanks is at least amusing a challenge - Shanks makes a big deal out of how Mihawk follows him around, "accidentally" revealing they slept together, sighing about how it's so hard to resist him.

Benn Beckmen is just leaning against the side of the ship, sipping his booze.

Shanks: -and I can't stay for hours like last time!!

Mihawk: Are you quite done?

Shanks: *whispering* Does Benn look jealous?

Mihawk: He looks bored. Much like I am. Is this some strange attempt to get out of my challenge, Akagami?

Shanks: What? No, come on I told you I was game. But, hey, could you do me a favor? Maybe like try and kiss me or something? Like take a swing like your going to hit me but then stop shot and grab me by the waist instead.

Mihawk: .... Trickery is beneath you. Besides, you're absolute rubbish at it.

Shanks: Oh, come on, I would totally help you get laid if you asked!

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* I want a proper match afterwards.

Mihawk: *In a forced, monotone voice* After this I will take you to my lair and have my way with you, Akagami.

Mihawk: ... My lair? Really?

Shanks: *Holding up cue card with quickly scribbled line* What? That is how you talk.

Mihawk: I can't believe I wasted precious hours of light tracking you to this atrociously rural port.

Shanks: See? Now, read the next one.

Benn: Captain? If this is going to take all night, I am going to go join the rest of the men in the tavern.

Shanks: Huh? Wait! Benn! What if Miha really stabs me this time!?

Benn: *Salutes Shanks with his bottle* Sounds like that is his plan captain. Have a good 'challenge'.

Shanks: What? No... *Reaching out hand, like he might die if Benn leaves, looking completely devastated* Not even a little jealous...

Mihawk: You couldn't have thought that pantomime would actually work.

Shanks: Benny, don't leave me.... *Turns to Mihawk, immediately brightening* Oh, well, there's always tomorrow. Hey, Miha, guess whose free all night and horny as a pirate in the calm belt?

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* Very well.

Mihawk might as well get something for the trip he made. Although, he's reconsidering if the sex was actually worth the trouble after he ends up listening to Shanks worry half the night that Benn is shacking up with someone else (after a couple hours of rough and raw fucking, admittedly).

Is it the hat? He likes his captain's hat. Miha, you think his captain's hat is sexy, don't you?

Mihawk: It's utterly ridiculous.

Shanks: ....

Shanks: ....

Shanks: *Smile* Ahh, Miha, I knew you liked the hat!

Shanks: What do you old Northerns find sexy?

Mihawk: I am only four years older than you.

Mihawk: And silence.

Trying to convince Mihawk to go spy on Beckman for him. Shanks doesn't actually care if he does sleep with someone else, it's more that Beckman didn't immediately turn angry and jealous like Buggy would have that has him paranoid.

Mihawk is going to fuck this annoying red head again just to shut him up.

Mihawk: Maybe he doesn't like red haired boys who don't know when to be quiet?

The next morning Shanks is pacing among his poor crew that's gotten stuck listening to Shanks obsess about Beckman again. IS IT REALLY THE HAIR!?

It's not even a matter of Shanks's age (or obvious immaturity). I mean, Beckman got on board and stayed, didn't he? Beckman just enjoys watching Shanks try so hard to get his attention. Like Benn's attention isn't constantly on Shanks. He had to when his captain is always one step away from disaster.

He only left him with Mihawk because it was clear Dracule is not a real danger to Beckman's captain.

Except maybe insulting him to death. But Beckman is pretty sure Shanks can handle it. He's met Buggy. He's suspects Shanks LIKES it if anything.

It gets to the point where when they dock somewhere and see Mihawk waiting, or come back to the ship and spot his familiar silhouette, most of the crew goes off somewhere for another drink (sometimes the newer kids will stay to watch such an awesome fight, everyone else is like... Look, you'll have plenty of opportunities later. This is not a one off.)

Benn just takes a look around, nods to Mihawk (a silent signal for, "he's all yours, do with him as you please, if anything happens to him I will track you down and make sure your last few hours on this blue world are as painful as humanly possible") and heads off.

Oh, it's just the Hawk boy.

That's fine then.

Benn use to be a sailor on a trade ship between the North, East, West and Grand Line. He's seen it all.

They called him The Gun Slinger BEFORE he joined Shanks's crew and became a pirate.

So this young, broke ass kid from the streets of some near artic northern island trying to pass himself off as a Lower North rich type has a thing for his captain? Not really enough to keep Beckman up at night, no matter how good at swords he's supposed to be

Besides, he's pretty sure for the kid to keep tracking down Shanks, he must be bored out of his skull. He's not going to do anything to endanger their captain.

Not if Shanks is the only thing he can find to keep him entertained.

One day, Mihawk is going to be waiting on the dock when a bunch of Red Haired pirates are stumbling home, laughing and chattering amongst themselves (Shanks's crew always seems to be in a good mood). One of them will catch sight if Mihawk and walk by with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

The captain's occupied. Seems likely he'll be 'occupied' for a good while, too.

Mihawk won't smile, but he will think "So you finally warmed him up to you, Akagami?" and snort lightly.

Poor Benn, though. Mihawk could never imagine being with someone so much younger than him. Shanks is only four years his junior and already it strains Mihawk to put up with his occasional moments of "youthful whimsy" (aka being an annoying, immature child)

"A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair"

Mihawk just putting that on his Not To Do List.

That lasted until Roronoa.

(Mihawk just looking at Zoro knowing this is bad news.)

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

*Cross out, scribbles*

*Hands back to Benn*

Do Not Do:

- A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair a silly hat, who is overly dramatic and in any way, shape or form related to Gol D Rogers.

Ace: Hey what's up?

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

Go ahead, Benn, laugh it up. Mihawk is aware he has a type. Young, pretty, and utterly insane.

After that night where Shanks was otherwise 'occupied', it's over six months before Mihawk sees his friend his rival again. He is, as expected, far too smug and proud looking.

Shanks: Oh, Miha, so sorry you came all this way, I'm-

Benn: Well, I'm off, captain.

Shanks: What!? But we, you, I... Benn, hessoeexyarentyouworriedforyourcaptain?

Benn: *patting Mihawk on the shoulder* Have fun with him. Don't forget to return him by noon tomorrow, we have a schedule. Oh, but if you can babysit him for at least four hours? That would be great.

Shanks: BABYSIT!?

Mihawk: I suppose I can be troubled to do so.

Shanks: TROUBLED!?

Benn: Thanks, Hawkeyes. I owe you.

Shanks: *Fake tears clinging to his lashes* You two are so mean!

No, don't feel bad for him. Shanks is just trying to guilt the two of them into bed at the same time, and they both know it.

Thanks no thanks, they're not into that. But Shanks can be pretty cute when he's trying so hard (Benn) and at least he's not as boring as everything else in this world (Mihawk) so they allow him to keep up the act

Shanks: *looking at Zoro's wanted poster over Mihawk's shoulder* But I feel like you'd gladly go to bed with him and his captain if he asked. That doesn't seem fair to me. You'd never go that far with me and Benn.

Mihawk: *Eyes Benn*

Mihawk: *DEAD. ONLY.*

Mihawk: I have my reasons.

They can and do agree on plenty of things, including reciprocally not being that attracted to each other.

Shanks: Sounds fake to me

Shanks: But guys!

Shanks: This isn't about you

He's gonna need you guys to drop the egos and focus on what HE wants. I.E., being in the middle of two sexy Northern men.

Honestly, so mean to poor Shanks!

[hartigays]

rafebarry prompt: not canon compliant but rafe and barry are trying to get away from ward but barry gets hurt so rafe begs sarah + pouges (not on good terms w each other) to help them escape bc he loves barry<33

just a little something i thought about! totally up to you on how this all goes down if you decide to write it, anything you write is amazing !!

this was a stupid fucking idea. stupid, stupid, stupid. rafe knew from the beginning, he should’ve never agreed to this.

there aren’t many things that he and barry don’t agree on, surprisingly. even if they start off disagreeing about something, they generally always end up on the same page. but this plan had been something they’d gone back and forth on, never settling on a definitive decision.

in the end, barry had simply manhandled rafe over to the place he’d formerly called home - before ward booted his ass out - and waltzed them through the front door like they owned the place.

all to steal from ward, to get more money for coke and groceries (re: booze and hot pockets) and whatever other fleeting indulgences they could think of.

rafe had disagreed with this plan throughout its development and execution, not wanting to cross the one and only person in the entire world who scares him: ward cameron. and he’d been right to, because now barry is gasping for air, holding his side while blood spills from between his fingers.

they’re racing through the woods, trying to get as far away from ward’s long-range hunting rifle as they can.

rafe doesn’t know if ward knew he was barry’s companion in this little venture. he’d insisted they wear bandanas over their faces, but rafe is pretty sure ward would know his son in a heartbeat regardless.

he doesn’t even want to think about it. about the fact that ward shot barry, or that he probably would’ve shot rafe too if rafe hadn’t had the presence of mind to shove both barry and himself out of the nearest window, plunging into the bushes below before ward could get off another shot.

another shot on the person he more than likely knew to be his son.

ward had continued taking shots as rafe dragged barry across the yard and into the treeline, disappearing from view.

now, they’re back at the main road, barry collapsing against a tree as he clenches his hand around the wound in his side.

“let me see,” rafe demands, kneeling down and peeling up barry’s shirt despite barry shaking his head.

“ain’t got time, country club,” barry wheezes, trying to push rafe back so he’ll stand up and keep moving.

rafe doesn’t budge, just swipes at the blood with his shirt sleeve to get a better look at the wound. the bullet just grazed him, but it’s enough to warrant stitches at the very least.

“you’re not going to make it to the emergency room like this,” rafe comments absentmindedly, pulling out his phone a firing off a text to topper letting him know he’s going to need to borrow his car.

barry manages to push rafe back an inch this time, shaking his head furiously. “ain’t no way i’m goin’ to no damn hospital. i ain’t got insurance and your daddy done cut you off months ago. how you gonna pay for my little siesta in the ER with them empty pockets?”

and okay, he has a point. rafe will admit that. not to mention, ward has people all over the OBX, and if he sends out word about looking for his son, they’ll surely be caught if they’re trapped in the emergency room.

there’s only one other place rafe can think to go. one place where ward won’t know to look, one place where barry can get some medical help without having to shell out a fortune.

rafe may have to grovel a bit (or a lot), but he’ll do it. damn it, he’ll fucking do it because barry is going to bleed out if he doesn’t and that would really fucking suck because rafe was just starting to sort of like him.

he must’ve said that last part out loud, because barry manages to glare at him and say, “quit that shit. we been dating for a year, dickhead.”

then barry sort of slumps to the side, and rafe has to all but carry him to topper’s place.

rafe has just gotten the keys topper keeps in the cupholder into the ignition when he looks at his phone, seeing a text from top.

can’t let u borrow the car tonight, have a thing in the morning. srry bud.

rafe glances over at barry, who’s blacked out in the passenger’s seat, fresh blood still seeping out of his shirt.

“sorry about this, top,” rafe says to himself, turning the key and hearing the engine roar to life. “i’ll get you back later.”

he peels out of the driveway, speeding down the familiar streets until they become more and more unfamiliar, figure eight bleeding into the cut.

he zooms past more and more unfamiliar houses, searching for the only one he knows, starting to feel hopeless, starting to really worry that barry might actually die in the passenger’s seat of his car.

or topper’s car, rather. it’d be super annoying to have to apologize for that on top of having to apologize for stealing it in the first place, to be honest.

then suddenly, rafe is idling outside a house that is both familiar and unfamiliar. the few times he’s been here before, he’d been fucked up beyond belief and fueled by violent anger. it seems almost foreign to him now, while he’s sober as a judge (only due to his current circumstances, mind you) and fueled by nothing but pure adrenaline.

rafe practically drags barry to the house. there are all sorts of lights on, both inside and out, and rafe can hear the sounds of music and laughter drifting out from an open window nearby.

he only hesitates for a moment before circling around the house and banging on the door.

john b answers the door with a smile, a small wad of cash in his hand, clearly expecting some sort of food delivery. his smile fades instantly when he realizes it’s not his pizza or what the fuck ever, and is in fact rafe cameron and a half-dead barry.

“no,” is all john b says before trying to shut the door. rafe kicks his leg out, foot jamming between the door and the frame, preventing john b from closing it.

“fuck off, rafe,” john b grunts as he tries to shut the door. rafe can hear concerned voices from inside the house. “you’re not dragging us into whatever shit this is! literally fuck. off.”

“sarah!” rafe shouts, ignoring john b’s protests. “sarah!”

footsteps, and then sarah is pushing john b out of the way gently, looking at rafe in confusion, then at barry in horror.

“rafe? oh my god, what happened?”

sarah ushers them into the house, and rafe is literally dragging barry at this point. still, no one helps him get barry onto the couch. he manages regardless, but he’s panting when it’s all said and done, sliding down onto the floor with a grunt.

“i need you to help him,” rafe says, and he’s looking at pope, who’s seated in the corner beside jj, a guitar that he’s no longer strumming still sitting in his lap.

but john b is the one to answer, shaking his head. “no. besides, we can’t even help him. we don’t know how to do shit like that.”

“he does,” rafe says, still looking at pope, who’s now looking at barry thoughtfully.

“what?” kie laughs, looking bewildered. “pope may be smart, yeah, but he doesn’t have a medical degree. this guy needs a doctor.”

“i know how,” pope sighs, and rafe suppresses a smug smile. “i volunteered at the hospital last summer, remember?”

“and you knew this how?” john b asks rafe, accusatory.

“he was on my rounds once,” pope says calmly, leveling rafe with an unreadable look. “alcohol poisoning and a drug overdose all in one night.”

rafe fights the urge to look away, choosing instead to shrug nonchalantly.

“just another night in the cut, right?” rafe asks, arching one brow. “look, we can dredge up my poor life choices later, if it’ll make you all feel better and get your fucking panties out of a wad. but right now he needs help, so are you going to give him that or are you going to let him bleed out on your ugly ass couch?”

“i say let him bleed out,” john b snaps, clearly irked by rafe’s demands and insults.

rafe wants to knock the guy’s teeth down his throat, but he just breathes steadily through his nose. just like barry has been teaching him. “we can’t go to a hospital. no insurance, and ward’s hunting us down as we speak. so do i want to fucking be here? no. but i have to, so name your fucking price and we’ll pay it.”

“besides,” rafe continues, turning his eyes to sarah, challenging her, “you’re not just going to let someone die, are you?”

sarah narrows her eyes, hands perched on her hips. “no, that’s more your style, isn’t it?” then, she looks at pope. “come on, help him. he isn’t dying on john b’s couch. that’s way too creepy for me to deal with right now.”

pope nods and disappears from the room as sarah and john b bicker quietly. kie and jj glare daggers at rafe, while also eyeing barry, lying on the couch looking far more dead than alive.

when pope reappears, he has a first aid kit in one hand and a sewing kit in the other. he shoos rafe out of the way. rafe just scoots a little further to the left to give pope room, but stays close to barry.

“rafe, we need to talk,” sarah says after a moment. “outside?”

rafe shakes his head. “not until i know he’s okay.”

the room falls silent, and rafe looks around, glaring. “what, it’s illegal to care about people now? fuck off.”

“so do you want us to like… give you a room, or something? maybe some champagne and rose petals? we could get some ambient beats going, really set the mood, you know- ”

kie throws a pillow at jj, effectively shutting him up. “gross, jj. don’t put that image into my head.”

“look, whatever,” sarah interrupts, rolling her eyes. “but once he’s patched up, we’re having a conversation.”

rafe puts his hands up in mock surrender. “your house, your rules.”

he’s only trying to irritate john b, and it works. rafe smiles to himself when john b starts grumbling about it being his house actually, storming off to his room, undoubtedly to pout. sarah follows, and kie and jj trail after them a moment later. jj is the only one to look back, throwing a concerned look in pope’s direction before inevitably disappearing into john b’s bedroom.

rafe looks back at barry, all smugness disappearing from his expression when he sees just how bad the wound really is now that pope has cleaned it up a bit.

he really doesn’t care if he has to talk to sarah later - all he knows is that if barry dies, he’s sure as hell not going to be outside listening to sarah bitch at him when it happens.

rafe takes one of barry’s hands, ignoring the way pope’s eyes flicker down to the movement before returning to his work, remaining silent.

“you love him,” pope says suddenly, still not looking at rafe. he’s began sewing up the wound, his hands surprisingly steady.

“what’s it to you?” rafe asks defensively, but he curls his fingers tighter around barry’s, a little possessively.

pope just shrugs, like he doesn’t really care one way or another. “just an observation.”

he ties off the thread and cleans up the remaining dried blood from the wound with a rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton ball before applying a bandage and tugging barry’s shirt back down. it’s a lost cause, the shirt, but rafe appreciates the gesture anyway.

“it’s good to know you care about someone other than yourself,” pope says, finally turning towards rafe and giving him a hard look. “maybe there’s hope for assholes like you after all.”

rafe opens his mouth to say something bitchy back, but pope just claps him on the shoulder, stands and cracks his back, then leaves the room.

it’s just rafe and a passed out barry now. at least this way he can openly worry about his boyfriend, gnawing on his lip as he thinks about what it’ll be like if barry doesn’t make it.

rafe has been living with barry for some time now, ever since ward kicked him out. it’d started with sarah - she’d ran away and no one had known where. rafe ended up finding out through topper, but never seemed to get around to telling ward. don’t ask him why - he really doesn’t fucking know.

after sarah’s disappearance, ward’s temper reached its peak and rafe was kicked out mere weeks after his sister had gone missing. he stayed with topper for a while at first, often making trips to the cut to harass the dirty pogues who’d whisked his sister away from their supposedly happy family and her happy relationship with one of rafe’s closest friends.

when topper’s mother got sick of rafe loitering around her house, the only place left to go was barry’s. it’d helped that they’d already been screwing around for a while, initially so rafe could get discounts on coke, then turning into a full blown something over time.

their relationship has a definition now. barry had manhandled rafe into bed one evening and declared them to be officially official. meaning a relationship, meaning a bunch of figuring shit out as he goes because rafe sure as shit has never done any of this before.

he’s also pretty sure other relationships don’t involve hard drugs and robberies and shootings, so he thinks he’s got a few more obstacles to overcome than most when traveling the rocky road of a first relationship.

“rafe?” sarah calls, suddenly re-entering the room. “think we can talk now?”

rafe looks at her for a long moment. she looks different - happier, maybe? rafe wonders if he looks the same. maybe not right at this moment, with barry’s limp, clammy hand resting between his own, waiting on bated breath for barry’s eyes to blink open.

the need to hear barry’s slow drawl of coUnTrY cLUuUb is almost too much to bear, so rafe cuts his line of thought off, nods at sarah in answer to her question, and follows her outside.

they don’t talk for a long while, just staring out across the yard in silence. it’s not uncomfortable, per se, but rafe still wishes she’d say what she wants to say so he can get back inside. back to barry.

“this is a one time deal, you know,” sarah finally tells him.

when he looks at her from the corner of his eye, she’s staring directly at him, her expression serious. “i know,” is all he can come up with.

“i expect a thank you, just so you know.”

“i’m not thanking you,” rafe says immediately.

sarah actually smiles, just a little bit, then parrots back, “i know.”

“what did you want to talk to me about?” rafe asks eventually, pulling a cigarette from the pack he keeps in his pocket and lighting up.

sarah doesn’t answer for a moment, then shrugs, looking down at her hands. “i hate you, for the way you’ve treated me. and my friends. but sometimes i miss you. i miss my brother. what happened to you?”

it’s almost like she’s just thinking aloud, but rafe knows it’s a genuine question. one he doesn’t have an answer to. because he doesn’t really know where he went wrong - just that he could never seem to get anything right. not as a kid, not as a teenager, and not now as an adult.

“i don’t know,” rafe answers honestly, for the first time in a long time. he doesn’t know what else to say, so he tells her, simply, “but thank you for helping anyway.”

yeah, yeah. he wasn’t going to thank her, blah blah blah. whatever, shit happens.

the back door swings open, and rafe and sarah turn to watch barry stumble out of the house, still clutching his side but finally looking like a living, breathing person instead of a corpse.

“ain’t i tell you them things gonna rot your lungs?” is the first thing he says, plucking the cigarette from rafe’s lips and taking a drag.

rafe rolls his eyes, but lets barry rope him into a hug, careful not to bump into his wound.

“ugh, gross,” sarah huffs, making fake gagging noises before going back inside. rafe doesn’t miss the small smile that’s playing on her lips, though, and he’s suddenly filled with warmth.

it’s disgusting, and he’s surprised that he’s missed it. and that maybe, deep down, he’s missed his sister, too.

she said this is a one time deal, but maybe there’s a possibility of reconciliation. it’s a thought to revisit at a later date, rafe decides, wanting to focus on this moment right here, where barry is blessedly alive and safe.

so rafe just leans down a bit and buries his face in barry’s neck, taking a deep breath, feeling barry inhale and exhale around his cigarette as they stand in each other’s arms, companionable silence falling around them.

“you done saved my life, country club,” barry says, the first to break the silence.

rafe smiles against barry’s neck at the nickname, pressing a kiss to barry’s pulse point before pulling back a bit to look at him.

“yeah, you’re the only one who knows how to empty the septic tank,” rafe replies, deadpan.

barry throws his head back and laughs, one hand coming up to cradle the back of rafe’s head, pulling him down gently so he can press a kiss to his forehead.

“damn good thing you saved my ass, then.”

“sure is.”

when barry kisses rafe, he tastes like tobacco and blood, sour and metallic on his tongue. rafe should think it’s gross, but he just kisses barry harder, trying to scrub all the thoughts he’d had about barry dying from his memory.

it helps to have barry here, real and solid in rafe’s arms, lips soft against his own.

“can we get outta this shithole and back to our shithole?” barry asks when they separate, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “‘m pretty sure them shits would object to us christening their couch.”

rafe, for a moment, is tempted to try just to see what kind of reaction he’d get. but instead of following the urge, he lets barry guide him back to topper’s stolen car.

“who’s ride is this?” barry asks when they’re both buckled in, backing away from the routledge property.

“topper’s,” rafe explains, smirking to himself. “i, uh. borrowed it for the time being.”

“for the time being?” barry questions, and when rafe looks at him, barry is looking right back, brows raised and amusement written all over his face.

“mhm,” rafe confirms, matter-of-factly.

barry just glances around the car, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. “sweet ride. think ol’ topper’d object to a little christening, too?”

rafe starts the car, letting his own smirk grow. “as a matter of fact, i think he would.”

barry blinks at him, then stares at his nails casually.

“so where we gonna park her?”

rafe just smiles, peeling away from the routledge house, cruising into the night.

“i know just the place.”

[dreamingofaizawa]

Short Stack

Okay, so I recently started a series called Saving Her Sanity, and I had only gotten one part posted. But the more I reread it, the more I really hated the way I’d written it. So I’m postponing that and starting a different series. It’s gonna be a real rollercoaster ride of emotions, so buckle up.

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x ProHero! Fem! Reader

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Angst, fluff, habitual self-harm, dissociation, swearing from obvious sources, alcohol. Coming up in later parts: smexy times, biting kink, double penetration, unprotected sex, more angst, traumatic past (but not super detailed cuz I can’t handle that shit my heart hurts already)

Word Count: 6.9k

Author’s Note: Alright folks, the reader is a fucking savage and stronger than the fucking hulk cause why the fuck not? Tbh body type isn’t discussed, the only thing is that she’s short af and the angry pomeranian and redhead boulder are freaking giants. Also, everyone’s in their mid-late twenties here. 

Part 2 - Part 3

Enjoy the read!

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You dove out of the way of chunks of concrete, barely making it behind the corner of the alleyway. You took off sprinting, hopefully drawing the villain away from civilian activity. Thankfully he chased after you, onto an abandoned street, out in the open where you had the upper hand. Twirling around, you materialized a scythe and swung it straight at the enormous arm coming at you, nearly chopping off the villain’s fist completely. 

He stopped in his tracks and howled in pain, giving you the opening you needed. You charged him and dropped to the ground, taking his legs out as you slid under him. A chain materialized in place of the scythe and you wrapped it around his ankles and his undamaged hand, hog tying him in place. You’d only been fighting the villain for about five minutes, and backup wasn’t going to be there for at least another two, so you put a quirk cancelling cuff on him and began to wrap his bleeding wrist to keep him from bleeding out. 

As you waited for backup, you sat down and leaned against the villain, who’d passed out from blood loss, and tended to your own wounds from the encounter. Backup arrived, but it wasn’t what you expected. Instead of police, stomping toward you was none other than the number two hero Ground Zero. His vermillion eyes glanced between you and the villain that was quite literally twice your size, and the expression on his face looked ever so slightly confused at the scene he was witnessing. 

He stopped at your feet, glaring down at you for a few seconds, looked back at the villain, then back at you, and when he opened his mouth to speak the most absurd thing you’d ever heard came from his lips.

“How the hell did you do that?”

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, slightly irritated at the implication behind the question. Without a word, you stood up and dusted the dirt off your butt. You walked a few yards away, pulled out your phone and dialed the police, making sure they came with a vehicle that could fit the huge villain. When you turned back around to face Ground Zero, you didn’t expect him to be so close to you. He leaned down so you were face to face, narrowing his eyes at you and letting out what sounded like a growl. “I don’t like being ignored, dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes and glared right back at him. “Well I don’t like to be undermined, Ground Zero. I may be small but I can handle myself in a fight.” And it was true. You were very small, at a whopping 5 feet tall (152 cm). His eye twitched and jaw clenched, and you could almost see the steam coming from his ears. Before he could retort, you saw something being launched from behind him. You swung your leg under him and pinned him to the ground just in time to dodge a manhole cover as it whizzed above your heads.

Without hesitation you launched toward the second villain that appeared and quickly had him immobilized and cuffed on the ground next to the first. You turned back to the number two hero, who was still on the ground watching you with wide eyes. You walked over and held your hand out to him, offering to help him up. To your surprise he actually grabbed your hand and let you pull him to stand. He didn’t let go of your hand, instead looking at it, bewildered. 

“Can I have my hand back?” you looked at him blankly. He blinked a few times before releasing his grip. Soon the police arrived to take the villains, and once they left, you began to walk back to the agency since your patrol had ended a little while ago. Ground Zero ran after you and grabbed you by the wrist, turning you around to face him.

“What’s your name?” You raised an eyebrow at the man. “My hero name is Inventory. Now If you don’t mind, I’ve got paperwork to fill out.” He let go of your arm and walked alongside you. You knew why he was walking with you, seeing as you worked as a hero at his agency. As you walked into the building he turned to you with a quizzical look. Without even glancing in his direction you gave a small sigh. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t even know I work under you?”

He seemed slightly shocked. He made it a point to know who was working for him. After all, he couldn’t have anybody screwing up his agency’s reputation. Somehow, though, you’d managed to slip under his radar. Though considering your stature, hero rank, and the fact that you hadn’t made a single mistake since your debut, he figured he’d just brushed you off.

After you filled out all your paperwork, you changed out of your hero costume and into workout clothes and hit the agency’s gym. Like you always did, you went straight to the separate room reserved for sparring, expecting to have to go back out and find a partner. Today, though, you didn’t. As you entered the room, there was a certain angry blonde and a very muscular red-haired man sitting against the wall. 

“Well if it isn’t short stack” Ground Zero called out to you. Well that’s one way to get you mad. You tilted your head sharply to one side, then the other, your neck popping loudly as you took a deep breath to calm your anger. “Hello, Ground Zero. I didn’t expect you to be in here. I’ll just leave you to it then.” The irritation seeped into your voice as you turned around to leave the room.

Of course, the jackass had to go and say something else. “What? You too scared to spar against me? Am I too big for you to handle?” God damn it. You both knew you had taken down much larger opponents than him, and you knew it wasn’t very smart to fight your boss, but at this point you were pissed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose.

He stood up and began stalking towards you, his heavy footsteps ringing in your ears. You dropped your duffel and whirled around, walking to him and meeting him in the middle of the room. At least sparring was only hand-to-hand combat, because you knew he’d easily overpower you if he could use his quirk. But you trained almost exclusively in hand-to-hand, because your quirk wasn’t combat related.

As you dropped into your fighting stance, he narrowed his eyes at you, clearly confused at the odd stance you were in. In all your years of training, you had developed your very own fighting style. He quickly shrugged off his confusion and put his arms up in front of his face, ready for whatever you were about to throw at him. The two of you stood there, waiting for the other to make the first move. As predicted, his patience ran out and you easily ducked and dodged the first few quick jabs he threw.

He kept throwing punches, each one a little more intense, and you could see he was getting irritated from how you were dodging every single one. Soon enough he was lunging at you with each punch he threw, his anger getting the best of him. Five minutes of him punching and you dodging had him fuming. You hadn’t even thrown a single punch. Still, it was a game of cat and mouse with you dodging everything he threw.

The whole time he’d been aiming at your face and shoulders, keeping his strikes high. But suddenly he launched at you and his right fist aimed straight for your stomach. Got him. You planted your right foot and spun counter-clockwise, grabbed his wrist with your left hand, grabbed his shoulder with your right, and used his own momentum to fling him over your head. He landed on his back with a thud, all the air pushed out of his lungs from the impact. 

You knew he’d have to take a few seconds to get up from that, and that meant you won the match in a single move. You stood over his head, smirking down at him. He glared up at you with eyes wide as saucers, wheezing from the throw, and the redhead cackled from his spot against the wall. You kneeled down and hunched over, your noses inches apart, and said, “Still think you’re too big for me to handle?”

Staring down at him, you stood again and walked over to the redhead. “Hi, I’m (y/l/n) (y/n), hero name Inventory.” You introduced yourself and held your hand out for him to shake. He took it and introduced himself as Kirishima Eijirou, a.k.a. Red Riot. You walked back over to Ground Zero and once again held your hand out to help him up. This time, he slapped your hand away and got up himself. “The name’s Bakugou Katsuki,” he said, scowling at you.

Kirishima got up and came over, “Come on Bakugou, don’t be a jerk just cause you lost. Sorry about that (y/l/n), he’s just prideful.” You chuckled lightly, waving it off, “It’s fine. I’ve heard ALL about Ground Zero’s friendly personality and peppy attitude. Anyway, It’s been fun, but I should get going.” Kirishima stopped you before you could walk away. “Hey, (y/l/n), we were gonna go out for drinks after this, you wanna join us?” You looked over to Bakugou, who didn’t give any input, choosing instead to glare at the corner. “Sure I’ll meet you outside in ten.”

You picked up your duffel and went back to the locker room to change into your civilian clothes. The bar was only a couple blocks away, so you all left your stuff in your cars and walked over. Bakugou didn’t say anything the whole way there, still wallowing in his humiliating defeat. You, being the smartass you are, decided to poke the bear.

“Stop sulking Bakugou, I haven’t lost a sparring match since high school. Besides, if we were to use our quirks you’d most likely win the match. You don’t gotta be all depressed about it.” His head snapped toward you and his hands popped and crackled at his sides. It was probably meant to scare you, but you only put your hands up in mock surrender. 

When you got to the bar you all ordered your drinks and sat down at a booth. Kirishima looked at you and started asking questions. “So, (y/l/n), if you’re so sure you’d lose to Bakugou’s quirk, what’s yours?” You answered him like you answered everyone else who’d asked you the same question. “Basically, it’s like an inventory in a video game, hence the hero name. I can “store” things in a pocket of space and materialize them whenever I need them,” then you held out your hand and materialized your car keys and cell phone.

His eyes went wide and he started gushing about how cool and convenient that is. Meanwhile, Bakugou just rolled his eyes and mumbled “showoff” under his breath. Kirishima elbowed him and told him to behave, making you giggle at the dynamic of the two. Despite being at a bar, the only one that drank any alcohol was Kirishima. What really shocked you was that he was a terrible lightweight, and getting him to walk back to the agency was proving extremely difficult, because he was leaning nearly all his weight on you and Bakugou didn’t bother to help.

In fact, Bakugou was busy snickering at the sight of you trying to keep Kirishima from stumbling out onto the road and taking you with him. You’d be lying if you said Kirishima wasn’t heavy, but years of weight training and hero work pays off cause you could easily squat over 200 lbs even if you were tiny. So about a block from the agency, you’d had enough of trying to keep Kirishima from falling over and you just stopped walking.

Kirishima was too out of it to notice. But Bakugou turned and started teasing you for not being able to handle the weight. You just rolled your eyes at him. Before Bakugou could move and take him off your hands, you took a deep breath, and hauled Kirishima onto your shoulders in a fireman carry. Bakugou’s jaw dropped, and he froze in place, just staring at the scene in front of him. That both annoyed you and made you extremely proud, cause you just impressed the number two hero. You were sure the scene was at least a little funny, a giant hanging off your tiny frame, but you ignored it.

Once you had Kirishima secured on your shoulders, you started the trek to the agency. Again, Bakugou was completely silent, but you could tell it wasn’t because he was sulking. Once you were back at the agency, Bakugo led you to his car and got Kirishima settled in the back seat while you stretched out your arms, popping your shoulders and neck. You were about to say bye and head back to your car when Bakugou stopped you. 

“Thanks for carrying him. It was impressive. Unexpected,” he said, not making eye contact, “And the match earlier…You did good. I haven’t been beat that bad in a while.” It almost looked like he was blushing, but it was so subtle you couldn’t tell. You smiled softly at the compliments. “Thanks, Bakugou. I had fun. I’ll be going now.” You turned to walk to your car, but he stopped you again. “Oi, short stack!” You froze at the name, and turned around with a sickly sweet smile on your face, “Yes, Bakugou?” “What’s your number?” It was your turn to be shocked. But you got over it and recited your number to him as he punched it into his phone.

When you got home it was just after midnight, so you got ready for bed and lay down to sleep. The next few days passed relatively quickly, occasionally running into Kirishima or Bakugou. There wasn’t any villain activity in the area, and your gym time was productive. You got a couple of people to spar with you when you needed it, and spent any extra time weight training.

The next day you were off, just like every day you had off, you went straight to the agency and hit the gym. You spent a solid hour at the punching bag and went to go spar again. This time there were five others in the room, which was extremely rare. Normally the room was empty. Two pairs were already going at it, so you asked the fifth if she wanted to spar. 

You’d already worked up a sweat at the punching bag, but you needed the spar, so instead of finishing quickly you made sure to take a couple punches and throw a few before ending the match. You kept the same partner for a few matches, winning each one, and soon the others were watching as you won two more rounds.

The partner you’d been sparring with tapped out to get water, and someone else quickly took her place. You immediately jumped into another match. And then another. And another. Soon they tapped out as well, and by then there were a few more people filing into the room to watch. It confused you, because you’d never seen more than ten people in the padded room, but you ignored it and began another match with yet another partner.

After another few rounds, your new partner tapped out, and you decided it was time to get some water. But it wasn’t until you stepped back out into the center of the room that you realised nobody else was starting a match. Nobody else was sparring with anybody, all their eyes locked on you. As you looked around the room, you noticed it was getting crowded with people, all your previous opponents had already left, and a new opponent stepped out to challenge you.

Now this was strange. Even with your opponent getting into his fighting stance, you looked around the room, confused as to why there were so many people. You dodged a jab, snapping your attention back to your opponent. Well that was a dirty move. At his next swing you ducked under his arm, lunged to his side and swept his legs out from underneath him, ending the match before he could even blink. Playing dirty gets you knocked the fuck out as far as sparring goes for you.

The crowd that had gathered cheered at the quick takedown, and yet another opponent stepped out. You lost track of time, sparring dozens of different opponents, never losing a single match. If you began to tire all you did was end the match quickly to regain energy. After you went to refill your water for what must have been the 20th time, you checked the clock. It was already noon. You’d been sparring for five hours. 

When you went back into the room, another opponent waited in the middle. You apologized and said you had to leave, and the crowd dispersed within minutes. You showered and changed, and as you left the locker room you got a text from a number you didn’t recognize.

?:

Oi short stack, what are you doing right now?

Correction, you knew EXACTLY who this was.

You:

Just got out of the gym. Why?

Bakugou:

Where?

You: 

At the agency

Why?

You didn’t get a reply, but you didn’t need one, cause Bakugou was waiting for you outside the building, sitting in his car, with Kirishima in the passenger seat. “You haven’t had lunch yet right?” Bakugou asked. You shook your head no. Kirishima spoke this time, “Great! Let’s go eat, I’m starving!” Bakugou rolled his eyes and told you to get in, and you chuckled as you got into the back seat.

During the ride Kirishima asked about your day, and you told him about the strange occurrence while you sparred, with a crowd forming to watch and people popping out of nowhere to challenge your winning streak. “Wow (y/l/n)! You still haven’t lost? I should spar with you and see if I can win!” You giggled at that and agreed to spar with him next time. And you kept reiterating how strange it was that there’d be so many people in the room at once, when normally there’s only a handful at a time.

They both questioned it but soon shrugged it off as Bakugou parked the car in front of the sushi restaurant. Lunch was a whirlwind of Kirishima asking you questions, you asking them questions, and Bakugou bickering at Kirishima when he ignored Bakugou entirely. It was fun seeing the two so close. Eventually the conversation rounded back to your sparring matches earlier.

“So how long were you there? If a crowd formed you had to have been at it for a while.” Kirishima asked, trying to figure out how long you’d fought people. You answered sheepishly, a bit embarrassed that you’d lost track of time so easily, “Well...when I checked the clock it’d been about five hours.” Both of them froze, staring at you with wide eyes. Your face burned and you took a sip of your water. Bakugou was the first to talk. “You’re a fucking beast.” Kirishima’s expression went from shock to concern. “Are you ok? Like, how are you not passed out right now?”

You assured him you were fine, and explained how much time you spent in the gym nearly every day, even after patrol. Your gym time only seemed to surprise them more, and after they told you about their gym schedule, you realised just how much time you spent in the gym, and the more you thought about it, the more you realised how lonely you were.

Kirishima seemed to catch on to your stress and smoothly changed the subject. After lunch, Bakugou drove you back to the agency, and Kirishima asked if you wanted to go to their place for drinks. “Sure, as long as I don’t have to carry you again,” you laughed. Kirishima turned and looked at you, his cheeks nearly as red as his hair. “Wait...you carried me?”.

Bakugou barked out a laugh. “Yeah shitty hair, she threw you over her shoulders and hauled your wasted ass back to the car.” Kirishima’s face somehow burned brighter and apologized profusely, but you waved it off. “Nah, it’s fine! Besides, if Bakugou wasn’t being such an ass I wouldn’t have had to carry you. I just got sick of trying to keep you standing upright while he snickered at me being short.” Bakugo scoffed. “Well you’re definitely not tall.” “I don’t need to be to kick your sorry ass.”

At that Bakugou went silent and Kirishima exploded in a fit of laughter. “Put a sock in it shitty hair! And you!” Bakugou glared at you in the rearview mirror, “I’m gonna beat your stubby ass next time!” You looked at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Ground Zero?” He growled at the mention of his hero name. “Yeah short stack, it’s a fucking challenge.”

Soon the car parked in the parking garage, and you all went up to their shared apartment. It was spacious, and very modern. Bakugou pointed out the bathroom and went to the kitchen to grab three bottles of beer. The three of you settled into the living room and the conversation went just like lunch did. Most of the questions were directed at you, and you answered honestly. 

The questions were generic and friendly, what you like to do in your spare time (besides going to the gym), your favorite foods, colors, your likes and dislikes, your pet peeves. After the first round of questioning you’d only got through one bottle of beer. “Hey, what other kinds of alcohol you got?” you questioned Bakugou. He got up and listed his menu from the kitchen. You asked him for a glass of the cream liquor, and he returned with a glass filled with the liquid. 

After hours of aimless conversation and a few more glasses, you found yourself slowing as the alcohol permeated your system. That was your signal to ask for a snack and water, and you stopped your intake of alcohol. Bakugou caught on to your self cut-off. “You don’t need to limit yourself. We’ve got a spare room if you need to stay the night, and if you need to call in tomorrow the agency has plenty of people to take over your patrol.” His statement shocked you, and you looked at him like he was crazy.

He spoke again, “If you’re cautious about sharing a place with two guys, Kiri’s nearly wasted already, he can’t do shit, and if I were stupid enough to do anything I’m sure you’d kick my ass before I got within a foot of you. As for tomorrow, both of us are off, and like I said, the agency is not short-staffed. And i’ve got meds if you’re worried about a hangover, and I don’t mind lending you clothes if you need them.”

You were stunned. Completely and utterly bewildered. But he made good points, so you decided to take up his offer to spend the night. “You know what, I’ll stay. But I'm gonna slow down with the alcohol, because hangovers are a bitch to deal with even with painkillers.” And with that, the three of you continued talking. Soon Kirishima passed out and Bakugou hauled him into his room. Surprisingly enough, when he came back out he actually engaged the conversation.

He asked about your fighting style, how you developed it, how long you trained. Most of his questioning was about your physical strength and tenacity, nothing personal. But then he asked why you spent so much of your time in the gym instead of with friends. And you answered honestly and bluntly, probably mostly because of the alcohol. “To be honest, I’m not much of a social butterfly. I don’t really have friends, because I don’t ‘make friends’ with people. In fact, you could call me antisocial. I don’t really like talking to people. I don’t speak unless spoken to or unless speaking is necessary.”

And he only dove deeper. “Why not? The world too scary from down there?” he teased. You laughed darkly at the comment, choosing to drain your glass of alcohol in favor of answering the implied question. He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“You avoided the question.”

“Well it wasn’t really a question, just a jab at my height again”

“Yeah, and you didn’t jab back.”

You huff, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.”

“Just drop it Bakugou.”

“I won’t drop it. Not until you give me some kind of answer.”

“Are you always this insensitive or is it just the alcohol?”

“Spill it (y/l/n).”

“Ugh fine! But I’m not giving you any details.” You crack your knuckles, take a deep breath, and a long drink of water before you talk again. “I used to like making friends. But all the friends I made turned out to be liars and fakes. I was used. A lot. After a while I finally had enough, so I stopped approaching people. I decided if people want to be in my life they can approach me. I got good at reading people, and I shut them out fast if they weren’t good for me.” You sighed, praying that was enough to sate Bakugou’s drunken curiosity. It wasn’t.

“And if people approached you with the intention of using you? If you read them wrong?” he pried. Screw it. You already spilled this much right? Might as well get it out. “I got really good at pretty bad things. I don’t usually read wrong, because I’m suspicious of everyone that walks into my life.” Internally, you prayed that was enough for him. “What kinds of bad things?” Well that’s unfortunate.

“Things like eavesdropping. Spying. Hiding. Manipulation. Lying. Deceit. Long story short, I have trust issues. It’s easier to keep people at arm’s distance than make friends that could hurt you.” At that, Bakugou goes quiet, his eyes studying your face. And you stare back at him, waiting for the judgement that comes with opening up to people. Waiting for the ‘maybe you should openup more’ and ‘just give people a chance’. But his answer is unexpected. His face softens ever so slightly as his eyes lock onto yours, his voice low, soft and somewhat comforting. “Sounds rough.” You look away, trying to keep your breathing steady, not giving tears the chance to fall, “I’m gonna turn in. Good night, Bakugou.”

Moving quickly, you disappear into the spare room and curl up into the bed sheets. Why the hell are you crying? You’d talked about this before. So why now, of all times, are you suddenly sobbing into your hoodie, clinging to it like your lifeline? You try your best to keep quiet, hoping the only other person awake doesn’t hear you. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you hear the door handle turn, and you freeze, closing your eyes and steadying your breath, going completely silent in mock-sleep. It was a technique you’d perfected long ago, turning off your emotionsin order to avoid confrontation.

You hear heavy footsteps, knowing who it is that just stepped in. He was the only other one still awake. You feel the bed behind you dip, and strong arms curl around you and turn your body, burying your face into Bakugou’s solid chest. His deep voice rumbles softly in your ear. “I know you’re not sleeping shorty. I listened through the door and heard you crying. Just let it out.” And before you can stop them, the tears you’d willed to disappear begin to pour down your face. So you sob into his chest, his arms tightening around you as your entire body shakes.

Soon you’re drifting into sleep, your body giving in to exhaustion. You’re in a deep sleep, and Bakugou stays there, holding you, until the last hiccups subside. He leans away to look down at you, and brushes strands of hair away from your face. “How long has it been since you’ve cried, princess? How long since you bottled up those emotions inside you?” He questions your sleeping figure. He presses a soft kiss into your forehead, gets up and tucks you under the blanket before silently leaving the room and going to bed.

*

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When you wake up, your eyelids are heavy and swollen, making it hard to open them. You tenderly massage them open, remembering the reason they’re so puffy and sore. Despite the discomfort of your eyes, you feel refreshed and light, a weight lifted off your chest that you didn’t know was there in the first place. No, it was more like it’s been there for so long you’d gotten used to the pressure. Slowly, you sit up and blink away sleep.

You check the clock and it’s 8 am, a couple hours later than you normally get up. At the foot of your bed is a set of folded clothes. You quickly change out of the clothes you slept in, and into the t-shirt and sweatpants that you assumed were Bakugou’s. As expected, they’re giant on you, but they’re comfortable, and they smell like Bakug-- NO. Stop. You shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it came and go out to see if either of the guys are up.

You quickly get your answer when you see Kirishima lounging -- freaking SHIRTLESS -- on the couch. Talk about eye candy, damn. Like sure, his hero costume doesn’t exactly hide anything, but it’s different when he’s laying across a couch in nothing but gray sweatpants. Again, you clear the thoughts before they screw you over, and greet him. “Hey (y/l/n) how’d you sleep?” “Pretty good, thanks. I’m surprised you’re up so early Kiri.” He laughs at the observation, “Yeah. Bakugou got me up a little while ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” Yeah, that makes sense. You nod and make your way into the kitchen, and as expected, Bakugo is there.

“Good morning Bakugou,” you greet him. “Morning shorty. How’d you sleep?” You answer with the same reply you gave Kirishima a few seconds ago. You lowered your voice a little and leaned slightly toward him, “Thank you, by the way. For last night. I really needed that.” He just nods, focusing his attention to the fridge to find breakfast. Satisfied with that, you turn and head back to the couch and chill with Kirishima until Bakugou calls you to the table to eat.

You ask them what they do on their days off, and today the plan was just to stay in and lounge around the house, not doing much of anything and just relaxing. So, that’s what you did. As the hours passed, you found yourself liking the company of the two men, despite their imposing size. You didn’t feel small with them. But the question lingering at the back of your mind was why? Why were you so comfortable around them?

Thoughts buzzed around in your head like a hurricane, mixing with the doubt that they were in any way comfortable with you, and the fear that they were only using you for what men always seem to want. Soon you were telling yourself all the bad scenarios that would end in them leaving you all alone again. You didn’t even know them all that well, but you had become attached and were already bracing yourself for the inevitable loss of the two. The memory of crying to Bakugou last night swirled into your mind and wouldn’t disappear.

You were spiraling into a panic like you always did when people got close. But it was hidden, suppressed, contained. Whenever you panicked it never showed, the only telltale sign being your sudden need to scratch the soft flesh on the inside of your elbow. You hadn’t scratched in so long that any previous wounds had completely healed over, the only evidence left were small patches of discoloration, only evident if you stare long enough. That was about to change as your nails dug furiously while you stared off into space.

Kirishima was the first to snap you out of your spiral, grabbing your wrists and shaking you out, calling your name frantically. Your senses began to drift back, and the next thing you noticed was the sting on your forearms and the light stain of blood on your nails and fingertips. Your eyes drifted from your wrist up to your inner elbow, and you winced at the sight of blood seeping out of the shredded welts. It looked like it should have hurt more than it did.

“Bakugou! Get the first aid kit from the bathroom! (y/l/n)’s bleeding!” Kirishima called out to him. You heard quick heavy stomps and a curse from the blonde before he came over to examine your arms. He looked at you, and you looked back at him, still dazed from your inner turmoil. He knew from that look you were out of it. Instead he questioned the redhead to ask what had happened while he was in the kitchen figuring out what to make for lunch.

“I don’t know! I was watching tv and when I turned to ask her something she was staring off into space and scratching at her arms! She was bleeding before I even turned and I grabbed her before it could get worse.” Bakugou clenched his jaw and went to get a wet washcloth to clean up the blood. You were watching this all unfold before you, still not quite attached to reality. When he returned, he put the cloth on his lap and grabbed your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with calloused thumbs. He called your voice, attempting to ground you, and didn’t stop until you finally took a few quick breaths and blinked, answering him with a small ‘sorry’.

He grabbed your wrists, which Kirishima had already released, and spoke to you in a hushed tone, but still strong and intense. “(y/l/n) I need you to listen to me. Are you allergic to anything? Anything at all?” It took a few moments for you to regain your mental balance, but you shook your head. “No. Nothing.” He let out a soft breath and with that he began to clean and dress your arms, wiping away blood and cleaning your fingers and nails in silent concentration.

By the time the entire ordeal was over, the different sensations from the sting of the alcohol wipes to the cool ointment and the soft gauze had grounded you completely. As Bakugou went to put the first aid kit away, Kirishima reached out and gripped your shoulders, looking over your face and into your eyes with tender concern. “You okay little pebble?” He moved his large hands so they rested at the sides of your neck, his thumbs gently brushing at your jaw.

You blush lightly at the endearing nickname and the new sensation of his hands. Leaning slightly into one of his palms, you nod. “Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t really wanna talk about it, but I’ll be just fine. I just got distracted.” He looked at you with a face that said he didn’t believe your excuse, but he’d drop the subject because you asked him to. Letting his hand release you, he gives you a toothy, mischievous grin. He leans in closer to you and nearly whispers, like he was about to reveal the world’s biggest scandal.

“That was the most gentle I’ve ever seen Bakugou. Thanks for bringing that side out of him,” he says, flashing another smile. You giggle a little at the thought of the explosive male being gentle, not quite believing it if you hadn’t been subject to it. Then you remembered why he’d been there, tending to the wounds you’d subconsciously inflicted on yourself. Your eyebrows knitted together lightly, remembering the spiral and being shaken out of it by a panicked Kirishima. When Bakugou came back, you grabbed one of their hands in each of yours.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you say softly. After a few moments of silence, you decided you owed them an explanation of some kind. “And thank you for catching me. The scratching is a nervous habit when I’m stressed. I thought I got rid of it, but obviously I haven’t. It’s been a long time since it happened last, and it was triggered by my own drifting thoughts. It’s purely subconscious and I don’t realize what I’m doing until the pain becomes too unbearable and snaps me back to reality.”

By the end of your explanation, the two were looking at you with concern and understanding. Kirishima gently smiled, and Bakugou’s features relaxed, when you squeezed their hands appreciatively. The comfortable silence was suddenly broken by a low growl. You laughed at the comedic timing of your stomach and glanced at the clock. It was just after 12:30, and Bakugou got up to go make lunch. After eating you asked to wash your clothes, and asked to use the shower. Kirishima got you a spare towel and plastic wrap to cover your newly dressed forearms. Five minutes under the hot water and you were already feeling suffocated. The steam clouded your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You knew you had a problem with hot water. You always have. Jacuzzis were never relaxing for you, and you loved the cool water of the ocean the deeper you dove toward inky blackness. You turned the handle in the shower, letting the water turn cold. Your body shivered slightly from the sudden temperature change, but quickly relaxed as the cold water washed away all the stress from a few hours ago.

When you had finished up you went to go relax on the couch again, settling into the space between the two. Now with your mind clear, you began to wonder something that you probably should have wondered a while ago. How tall were they, really? They stood over a foot taller than you, so they had to be at least 6 feet tall. You looked from one to the other, your head swiveling back and forth, before you decided to just ask them.

Bakugou barked out a deep laugh, “Why you wanna know shorty? Finally realizing how scary we look from down there?” You rolled your eyes at him, but he answered anyway. “I’m 6 foot 4 (193 cm).” Kirishima looked down at you and beamed, “I’m 6 foot 6 (198 cm).” Bakugou scoffed, and you giggled at the blonde getting upset over height. Suddenly you bounced up from the couch and turned to the two, barely containing the thought that suddenly popped into your mind. Out of the two, the redhead seemed like the more likely to carry out your request, so you turned to Kirishima with wide excited eyes and a lopsided grin like a kid in a candy store.

“Can you carry me?!” you blurted out a little too loud. Kirishima blushed hard, and then you realized how ridiculous the request sounded and rushed to explain. “Sorry! That sounded weird right? I just wanna know what life looks like from that high up! I’m only 5 feet tall so…” you rambled a little before Kirishima laughed and stood up. “Sure little pebble.” He turned you around and squatted down, put his left arm around your waist and right arm against your thighs just above your knees and told you to lean back and sit on his arm. 

Once you were seated snugly, your back pressed against his chest, he stood up and you gasped a little from the new angle. The floor looked so far away, and you knew that if Kirishima decided to hold you by your armpits your feet would dangle a foot from the floor. Bakugou looked up at you from the couch and scoffed. “Alright shitty hair, put her down before you drop her and she breaks her legs from the fall.” Your hilariously rebellious brain took that as a challenge. You smirked at Bakugou, his eyes daring you to do exactly what you were thinking. But before you could move he looked at the redhead behind you, and the arm around your waist tightened as he reached to grab his right bicep. He slightly activated his quirk, locking you in place. 

“Aw, c’mon! You’re no fun! I’ve jumped from buildings before and landed perfectly fine!” You whined as you squirmed in Kirishima’s arms. Both of them laughed at your struggle, and once again, your brain instantly settled on ‘challenge accepted’. You quickly surveyed your surroundings, going about the best way to escape Red Riot without damaging any of the heroes’ property.

Before either of them could react, you materialized quirk-cancelling handcuffs and clasped one side around Kirishima's left wrist. The instant it went into effect, you brought your foot up and back down into the redhead’s stomach just hard enough for his grip on you to loosen up. When his right arm dropped to grab his abdomen, you slipped down along his body, grabbed the free cuff on your way down and snapped it around the leg of the coffee table, Kirishima landing flat on his ass with an ‘oof’.

Once again, Bakugou just stared in shock. You crossed your arms and smirked at him, “What was that about dropping me, Bakugou?” He was silent. Kirishima chuckled from his spot on the ground. “Damn, you’re a sneaky one little pebble.” You turned back around and took a deep bow. You materialized the cuff’s key and released him, storing them back in your quirk’s storage space. Finally recovering from his shock, Bakugou looked at the time and said, “Alright, short stack. Let’s go spar.” You turned to him and spoke what your brain had thought only moments before. “Challenge accepted.”

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

I literally found this blog recently and it’s awesome! But for your alternative ending, I was wondering what would everyone’s reactions be of Marinette missing for 5 months, to fighting her?

I honestly wasn’t really sure what this ask was asking for. I ended up writing their feelings about her going missing and seeing her for the first time in months. Sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted :(

(Also, thank you!!)

First part

Second part

Next part

@solangelo252 asked to be tagged

Everyone ready? Let’s go!

Dick

Dick is the one who has to stay strong for the family. He’s always been aware of that. It’s fitting that the guy whose biological family died due to their lack of safety net as trapeze artists ended up being the emotional safety net for his adoptive family. He is always there with his calm smiles, his bad puns, his warm hugs.

… that being said, who was to be his safety net? Marinette had served that purpose as of late; many hours had been spent in a rented out gymnasium, stretching and venting about their problems. It was the closest he’d come to a give-and-take relationship emotionally since his parents had been alive.

But now Marinette was missing. How was he supposed to vent about his anxieties about the fact that she was missing when she wasn’t there to vent to? Could he somehow vent to himself?

No. But he had to stay strong. His family needed him to. Without the Grayson safety net, his family would fall into early graves yet again.

So, he’d pull on that perfect smile of his and get to work. He’d force everyone to eat and sleep, he’d go out on patrols and make sure no one broke The Rule or too many bones, he’d make sure they didn’t close themselves off emotionally, he’d remind them they weren’t at fault, he’d listen to their problems, give them advice, hug them, help them, help them help them helpthemhelpthemhelpthem --.

~

Days stretched endlessly but weeks whizzed by.

And then Marinette was there.

His eyes had landed on her and he almost couldn’t believe it. Maybe he’d finally snapped. He’d held in his emotions, his grief and his guilt and his anger, and he’d held them in too long. And now he was hallucinating her. Now his mind had created a new her.

Maybe he actually could vent to himself now.

But then he’d glanced at everyone else and found that they’d stopped walking, too. That their eyes were still glued on that one spot. That they could see her and she was there. She was really there.

Emotions bubbled in his throat and tears stung his eyes and she was there.

“Mari?” His broken voice broke through the silence.

She brought a hand up to rest over her heart, almost as if she wasn’t quite sure he was talking to her despite him using her name.

Jason spoke next. “Is that really you?”

“Maybe,” she’d said, a bitter smile stretching across her face.

But Dick didn’t care about the warning signs, about the new demeanor, about anything because she was THERE.

A hand grabbed the back of his shirt. Held him back. He hadn’t even realized he’d been moving towards her, but that didn’t matter to him. Because now he couldn’t reach her.

His gaze fell on Tim and his brother had better have a good explanation.

“You’re pale,” Tim pointed out, blue eyes never leaving hers.

She giggled a little, but it was a broken sound. It was the kind of laugh a person made when they were trying their hardest not to cry.

“Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths do that.”

Tim’s grip on his shirt had lessened but it wasn’t necessary at all anymore. Instead, an icy hand clutched his heart and held him there.

Because now he could take in the chill in the room despite the roaring fire under where Marinette had perched herself. The way her eyes were now a dull blue instead of the almost unnaturally bright shade they usually were.

He hadn’t been around to be her safety net, and now the Marinette he knew was dead and gone. He was staring at what was essentially Marinette’s corpse. She even had the pale, bloodless skin of one.

He’d failed her, and he had already learned that there’s nothing that can be done when someone’s already hit the ground.

Jason

It was his job to keep her safe, and yet he couldn’t do that. She’d been captured by the Rogues. It was possible she’d never come back. If she did come back she wouldn’t ever be the same.

And it was his fault.

He should have tried harder to get her to stop. Made her take a break when she’d accidentally killed that man in the convenience store. He’d killed before, he’d KNOWN how that would affect a person. He’d seen how distracted she’d been the previous few days, seen the cracks. He should have seen this coming. He should have benched her when he’d had the chance.

And now his protege -- his SISTER -- had been captured by the Rogues and who knew what kind of horrors she was facing at that moment.

Because they weren’t going to kill her. The Rogues were never that merciful, and especially not when they’d been slighted.

Marinette had betrayed them, had been sent in to pretend to be their friend and gather information and sabotage some plans. Rogues were many things, but they weren’t ones to fake being friends. They all knew their real standings with each other, their real opinions of each other, for good and for bad. No, to them, she was a heartless monster.

And they were going to make sure she paid dearly.

~

“Is that really you?” He asked, though he knew what the answer would be. There was no way she could still be the same her after what she must have endured.

And she’d said “Maybe”.

And, though he’d expected it, the confirmation and the way her voice had cracked just slightly on the word had made it all the more real.

“You’re pale,” Tim pointed out.

Oh god, he was right. She looked so much like…

“Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths do that.”

Jason’s heart clenched at the words ‘chemical baths’. Because he knew what that meant. He may not have been there for when Tim had become Joker Jr., but he hadn’t needed to be in order to know just how completely fucked she had to be. He’d heard about the weeks of torture he’d endured before Batman and Batgirl had found it. Seen the way his younger brother still tensed slightly upon seeing Joker or Harley.

Five months. Marinette hadn’t been gone for a few weeks like he had. She’d been gone for five months. If that was what he was like in less than a month, then what about her?

He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let go, to never let HER go again, to make sure she’d never come to harm.

But one thing was stopping him.

Because he remembered what Joker Jr. had been created to do. What she must have been forced to do.

And he could see how much she hated it. In the lines in her forehead, in the slump of her shoulders, in the sad smile playing across her lips.

But she was doing it. She felt like she had to do it thanks to whatever she’d endured.

She wasn’t meant for murder. She especially wouldn’t do well with murdering someone she had once cared for. Whatever pieces of her old self that remained would crumble to dust until she would be completely unrecognizable. Completely broken.

He’d failed her, she’d been hurt, and he was going to have to hurt her more in order to keep her from hurting herself.

Tim

You’d think that it would be easy to figure out where she was. After all, these were the biggest Rogues in Gotham. Surely, they couldn’t hide out for long without people noticing them.

But no.

Nothing. Common henchmen were out of jobs, competitors were encroaching on their territories, allies called for help… and yet they refused to make an appearance. It seemed the Rogues had just grabbed Marinette and gone off-world.

A painful memory kept replaying in his mind. Taunting him.

The two of them had been sitting on a park bench on one of their many not-exactly-a-date-but-yeah-it’s-basically-a-date things that they loved to go on.

He remembered her in the Red Robin themed hoodie. The brilliant smile she’d given him. The twinkle in her eyes. The teasing lilt to her voice as she explained why he was her favorite hero:

‘Of course! He’s super smart! I mean, I know Batman is supposed to be the greatest detective of all time or whatever but, considering ages and experience, I think that Red Robin is probably going to have him beat in… I don’t know, a few years?’

She’d been laying it on thick, he knew, she’d been aware of his identity by then and was doing it to fluster him… but he could tell she wasn’t lying. Even if that was more blunt than she tended to be, it was still what she really thought of him.

The memory used to make him blush. Now, it hurt.

He downed his third cup of coffee at the hour, eyes locked on the screen in front of him. There had to be SOMETHING. There was always something.

And, yet, there wasn’t. The place she’d been taken had clearly been prepped for her kidnapping. There was hardly any blood anywhere outside of a bit on the wall where she must have hit it, someone must have set up a tarp or something. The only things they could find were the broken pieces of her comm and two ears. Forensics confirmed they were hers; the earrings they normally bore were missing, but they could hardly care about that when the first -- and likely tamest -- thing they’d done was cut off her ears.

That was it. There were footprints, sure, but they got lost in the millions of footprints on the streets of Gotham.

He threw his empty mug across the cave, but when it splintered on the ground he didn’t feel any better. It didn’t help him find her. 

~

The moment his eyes landed on her, he knew.

He could recognize that look anywhere. Bleached-white skin, cherry-red lips… her usual pigtails had been raised in an imitation of Harley’s signature look...

Just like Tim had been Joker Jr., she was now Harley Jr.

Part of him wanted to assure her that she would be fine, that he was living proof that she would be okay again eventually. The other part knew that it was a lie, that she, just like him, would likely never be fully ‘okay’ ever again.

He blinked away the tears threatening to spill over.

He should not have allowed Dick to make him sleep, should have widened the scope of his search, he should have simply done so much more than he had.

No mystery was completely unsolvable. He had to have missed something.

He’d failed her, and now she was paying the price for his shortcomings.

Damian

Mother had taught him that relationships were a liability. They made you weak. They made you lose.

Father and Richard had taught him that relationships were tricky, but they were worth having.

But, if relationships were worth having, why did they cause him so much pain?

First Father had died. Then Richard had ‘died’.

Those had been temporary, at least. He had started to have difficulty feeling sad when people died. There had been three deaths in the family since he’d joined including his own, and they always came back within a few months. It had started to feel like the Wayne family was untouchable.

Then Alfred had been killed brutally by Bane. Even now, years later, he had yet to make a miraculous reappearance.

So, no, they weren’t untouchable.

They were assuming she was alive, that the Rogues were keeping her around for some big thing. But, as time stretched on with no progress or proof that she was even alive, he started to lose hope. Why were they so quiet? What were they planning? Had those plans gone awry? The Rogues could never match him on impulse control, so something might have happened…

He told himself it didn’t matter if she was alright or not. He knew it was a lie.

Despite their rocky start, he’d found himself attaching to her far faster than he should have. He was regretting it now. Maybe he should have put a distance between them, maybe then this wouldn’t have hurt so much.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. It was the little things that seemed to hurt the most. The smell of coffee or baked goods, the place where she’d scratched her initials into a chair to claim it as hers, even the color red...

It was making it hard, if he were to be honest, to fight properly. He was constantly distracted. His mother had been right, his attachment to her was making him weak.

Not to mention the ring on his finger... He couldn’t bring himself to transform, not without his partner. Part of him wanted to tear it off his finger, to toss it off a pier and get rid of the constant reminder that she was gone, but he couldn’t.

It was all he had left of her, after all.

~

“Is that really you?”

“Maybe.”

No. The answer was no. He could see it in her eyes. Whoever was in front of them, they weren’t Marinette anymore. Not really.

“You’re pale.”

“Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths tend to do that.”

He clenched his fists tightly. The ring dug into his skin, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

After all, he wasn’t stupid. He was aware of what had happened to Drake during his tenure as Robin. He knew what he’d been forced to do, and he was sure she was there to finish the job.

He readied himself for a fight.

He’d failed her, yes, but he couldn’t afford to lose another person.

[twopoppies]

Hmm, Harry’s inability to say no. I echo your thoughts, but I may be projecting as well. It’s a little heartbreaking to consider but his pointed comment about people having his back at the Brits assures me he’s a smart young man who recognizes (or maybe is starting to recognize more) when and how to set boundaries. I hope that extends to fandom soon enough, some people really need to be told to knock it the fuck off. And they need to be told to their face to feel some semblance of shame, though I’m not too hopeful that would happen. It’s not cute and must be terrifying in the moment. He shouldn’t feel jaded to people literally following him down the street, even if his team does encourage it for sneaky pics to place him in certain places and with certain people. 🙄

On that note, I agree no one should worry about Olivia or where she’s going.

Consider the fact that she’s been super public about her whereabouts these last couple of weeks, almost more than she was in London. The amount of pap walks and airport snaps is really over the top. Who knows what it’s all for at the moment but she obviously wants to be seen traveling.

So, if Harry does have to involve himself in the stunt again soon, it won’t be surprising. It seems more likely she’s going back to LA to begin filming since that project was announced to be starting this week but we’ll see.

At the very least, Harry (and company) got some time away from work. Stunts included in that, unfortunately.

Yeah. I do wonder what that comment was about. It seemed quite pointed. But I agree that he’s smart and he does seem to have a tight group around him. I do think getting off social media was huge step in setting boundaries and as much as I miss his presence, I’m so glad he did it. Hopefully he’s getting better at doing the same with fans who overstep.

And yes to everything about Olivia.

In reference to this

[fieryhonesty]

The life of You

[AO3]

Words: 3619

You and the traveler accompanied by his floating friend were nearly close to your final destination. Passing through the entire Liyue, taking a short stop to relax a bit here and now. Enjoying the view at the marvelous land. It never stops to amaze you how beautiful the sunsets are when you can observe how the sun is disappearing behind the mountains.

Liking more Monds as it was a more free and easy going country. The green everywhere was easy on your eyes and overall didn't remind you all that stress tied to business. However you have to admit some parts of Liyue are way too pretty. Perhaps one day you could visit those pretty spots with your friends.

Having a nice walk and observing the never stop to amaze you lands. Some special kinds of flowers and herbs grow only here. Animals you can't see in the anemo Archon domain. Simply put, this is an experience one has to feel and see at least once in their life. 

You made sure not to wander too far away from the main road. Being pressed by time and distance was one thing. Being lost in the middle of somewhere was another. You sure knew your way in Liyue but mostly around habited areas. Not really have spare time to explore the land in detail.

Sometimes you had a short trip around here and there, in presence of other people. Those trips were mostly to bring you and your employees closer and take a break from all of that exhaustion. 

It's really sad how people in Liyue are different from people in Mondstadt. They are always in a rush, stressed out and business is always on their minds. However they are also willing to help with anything related to their field of expertise. 

Can't choose between this and that? Or not sure if this would be a good deal? Well you can be sure they will shower you with advices. However be aware of smooth talkers. They know a lot and know how to make one agree and probably buy more than they were willing at the start.

After all it is all just a part of the never ending flow of contracts. Tied to mora exchange and customer's satisfaction. You were sometimes thinking if Liyue being mostly yellow has something to do with currency. This color is so dominant here, everywhere. One would think leaves and grass is dying but it was healthy just like everywhere else. 

Mora is yellow, Liyue is land of contracts. Money is flowing in and out. This surely can't be coincidence, Morax must have been really smart back then.

You guys were close to Harbor's gates, a few more steps and you could see the entire city. One side enveloping it with azure blue sea, ships being docked in harbor. Supplies being carried out or in, depends on the ship's purpose and destination. Also there were smaller boats as well. Those were personal ones, more than for transport they were for amusement of their owners. 

You often heard about wedding proposals being made at those cute boats. Also there were people who used those boats for business, they transported people between north and south Liyue. It was sort of a trip one could say.

Hearing amazed 'wow' from your companions, turning to them with a smile on your lips.

"Just wait for the night. Then it gets super pretty but also really hectic. As that's the time where citizens are really free from their responsibilities and can enjoy free time." 

"Paimon can't wait to see all those stalls with delicious food!"

You chuckled at her remarks. Not needing to spend too much time with them to know the floating girl is easily manipulated when it comes to food. Just a mention of it and she is all yours. When you said about local specialities her eyes were beaming with excitement. 

By the look at Aether's expression, that was just a normal thing he got used to. As he had to get used to Paimon's big mouth. On your way here, to be more precise when you passed the middle part of Liyue. You came across some beggars. Asking for spare coins. You are still unsure about being glad for what Paimon said or not.

If it weren't for her you two might have got robbed. It turned out to be a bunch of treasure hoarders, not poor beggars barely living. When they found out both of you are carrying weapons and can channel elemental energy. They rather backed out of the trouble.

"Well then, let's head down. Shall we?" 

And so all of you slowly descended down, crossed the city's gate. Passing through streets and making sure the two are following you. Getting lost here is quite easy. 

As you arrived with one day spare, you could have just breathe out and rest for today. The rite will be held tomorrow. The question is what now? Turning to your companions.

"I'm hungry, fancy to get some food?"��

You didn't have to ask twice. Especially when it came to Paimon who was just excited flying around. Checking on stalls and observing various things. The street you were in was mostly for small merchants, selling their handmade goods. Be it art, jewelry, porcelain or those cute paperweight things. Often having sea and boats inside of them.

Moving to the next street which was purely dedicated to kid's enjoyment. Various toys shops and things which sometimes were too inviting even for yourself. You can just silently applaud those toys makers. If an adult like you has a hard time then what about the kids?

Quickly making your way to the small square which was dividing enjoyment shops from more practical ones. Such as herbalists, perfumes, food shops and also some kid's forbidden places. Starting with bars and ending with places you rather not want to think of ever entering. Otherwise you'd die in shame. 

Leading the way to your favorite shop. Knowing your friends probably won't know how to use chopsticks, it will be better to grab some finger food. Sweet dumplings, regular dumplings filled with various things, fried meat. Heck they even sell fries here which you thought it would be only in Mondstadt. 

Once you have all of your food, you have moved to a quieter place. A park with a lot of ponds, lotuses in, fish literally swimming under your feet as you were crossing via the small bridge. Sitting in the least busy place. It was just afternoon and there were already enough people to make you feel uncomfortable. Luckily you are used to crowds now.

With stuffed bellies you guys were barely able to move so you decided to sit around for a bit more. You explain them basics about the city. Like where to go if they'd need this or that. How to avoid being scammed. Liyue might be the land of contracts, one still has to negotiate about prices. People will always try to nudge prices in their profit.

"Paimon wonders. We have been around every major street and miss y/n told us about important places but..." 

She scratched her head.

"Where's your business?" Tilting her head to the side while making 'hmm' noise. Which immediately Aether joined in. 

You didn't plan to show them the building where your now middle sized company was residing in. For some reason you felt uneasy about showing your friends. You still didn't like the fact of inheriting it but at least it's in better shape than before.

As the previous owner was barely able to sign contracts and fulfill her duties. It was slowly fading, many employees had left the company. Also there was a debt written in its name. 

You didn't know why exactly you just didn't turn away and leave. It was none of your business. It was her mess. But somehow you decided to stay and help. It was awkward, especially meeting the dying woman. But you hold back your grudge and remarks. 

You knew it won't be an easy task especially after seeing what has happened in a very short period of time. First of all you needed to gain some trust from the remaining employees. To them you were nobody. Well. It wasn't far away from reality.

You were just a teenager who wanted to train and become a guardian of the city. Perhaps later on find somebody to get laid with and have a happy family. More happier than you had. But that all was taken away or so you thought.

However as the time passed you realized something. One can still be a guardian without having the title. When the debt collector came everyone was scared and shaken. There was no doubt about it might end up pretty bad for everyone present including you. But you played it smart, managing to convince the debt collector about giving you a bit more time.

It was the last chance you will get, he said before leaving. You were shaking and felt like vomiting. But at the same time proud of your smooth talk to get your through it. One thing you could thank to a certain bluenette. 

Since that day you got more trust from employees. It no longer being just the assistant who stood by you, willing to help. With a young mind and great ideas you managed to slowly but surely get the company back to functioning. Guided by your assistant who happens to have enough experience to actually lead the company. But for whatever reason she was not named as the next successor. 

You never felt any hateful feelings from her or desire to take the post from you. If anything she is keeping everything under control and is really modest. Admitting just half for her effort no matter what you said. 

It took over three years to fully recover for the company and be able to compete with others. Or at least partially. No longer being in debt and haunted by the Fatui agents. However to prove the company's worth you had to make a bigger showcase. Everyone was able to attend and observe. Enjoy the food and drinks. The event cost quite a bit but in the long run it turned out to be very worth it.

Eventually getting more offers for material, more interest from not only people from Liyue but also from Inazuma. However that didn't last long as it one day became completely locked away from the world. You really liked the direction where everything was going, nearly forgetting about your life in Mondstadt.

Warming up to people, growing fond of them. It was no surprise to see you spend time after work with some of your employees. Going to a tea house or dinner. Despite you being overly busy you still found some free time to hone your swordsmanship. You still wanted to be able to protect the weak. 

One night after a very long and tiresome week you found yourself staring at the clear night sky. You just finished one of your training. The sky was so nice, the stars being so bright. You wondered if they are looking at the sky right now. If you do see the same thing.

You were one of those people who were forced to grow up and become an adult quickly. Acting like a grown up despite being still pretty young and inexperienced. If it weren't for Mrs. Yue you'd be doomed. Also many others who often offered help. You liked those people but never admitted it aloud. 

When one day supplies didn't arrive in time, nor any message about delay. You got worried about what could have happened. The road which you chose was relatively safe and there were loaned guards for the cart. Something inside of you was telling you to take a look at it. 

Taking your trustworthy sword, leaving a message for Yue who happened not being present at that moment. So when she arrives at the office she would know. There was also stated if you don't return until noon, she will have to alert Millelith.

Just as if you knew. It didn't take long until you found a damaged cart and unconscious guards. However your people were missing, supplies being destroyed. Looking around and noticing tracks. 

The further you follow the more you know you are being lured into a trap. When you entered a place covered by an obvious illusion, you knew there's something really wrong and you just couldn't leave it be. Finding your way around, coming across cocoons. Hearing silent cries coming out of them.

Just when you tore through one of them and saw one of your employees. You realized what made those cocoons. Freeing them out. They were exhausted and pale. However fear allowed them to push forward and retreat from that place. But you did not. 

You knew the thing might attack again. Somebody else who won't be that lucky as your people. Giving them a reassuring smile, saying that you will be alright and they should have enough time to get back to cart. With some luck Millelith will be there already, taking care of them. 

Turning back and running deeper into the weird hive. Just then you realized how much naive and stupid you were. Risking your life just like this. Could it be bravery? Or just being a complete fool? Probably the latter. Your sword skills were impressive however facing the beast proved you were not strong enough. 

You could feel how your life energy was leaving your body during the encounter. You will die here. But you didn't care. You were devoted and wanted to protect. You got poisoned in the middle of the fight. As the poison was slowly spreading across your system. Fingers becoming numb.

You were half accepting the truth of never making it back. To never see any of the people who you consider close to you. To never see your employees' faces. Or never held a party to celebrate somebody's birthday. Or never be able to chase your dreams.

Just when you thought 'that's it I die here' you felt intense energy surging through your body. You could feel how it was encouraging and empowering you enough to rise up, avoid the fatal hit. It was like just all the fatigue has left your body. The poison was no longer effective. 

Swinging your sword, a wave of elemental energy being released. It cut through the beast's thick shell. It surprised you to see what happened but not letting it take over. You thought of channeling more of this weird yet powerful energy. It felt cold but at the same time warm. It might be because your body is getting confused over all of this elemental power, flowing through you.

As you rushed forward with cry, your blade met with the beast's arm. Cutting it off like it was a butter, following to its face. You cut through the entire thing, leaving a crystal like pattern behind. Was it ice? The beast has fallen with a loud and dull noise. 

Looking around, the place was covered in icy fragments. Surely the place didn't look like this before. Glancing down at your hand as you felt something appeared in it. A turquoise orb with a snowflake symbol, socketed into a silver frame with a pair of small wings on bottom at each side.

You knew what it was. Taking a hold on it and looking up. You never thought of ever receiving your own vision. Never feeling worthy to have one. Yet the cryo Archon thought otherwise. 

You did not remember how you got out of that place or what followed. Your body was exhausted and all you know is you will live to tell the tale. Whatever happened you just pushed it away, thinking it was the remaining strength you had, carrying you to safety.

Finger snapping brought you back to reality. Making you realize you had spaced out. Giving apologetic smiles to your already worried companions.

"Gosh. We thought you got possessed by something! We kept calling for you but you didn't respond!" 

Poor boy. His voice was worried and by the expression Paimon was making she was not feeling any better.

"Ah yes. I uh... Something crossed my mind, sorry about that, haha!"

Your eyes dropped down as you nervously fiddled with your fingers. They really want to see your workplace. Letting out a sigh. This had to come eventually. It's not like being ashamed or something, just feeling nervous.

"Alright then. I'll show you, with some luck we might catch up with my assistant so I could introduce you.~"

meeting with yue, talking about the stormterror, skip, rite and inspection, later the day meet traveler talking with tart and be not so nice cuz he fatui have some not really warm talk between you two, offering aether new clothes, then leaving after yue cuz you were going to tea house lol

The building was quite far away from the center. Hidden between two bigger ones, making it look smaller than it actually was. The receptionist was already gone. However people from security who were counting their last minutes for today greeted you with a bow. You motioned to them and kept walking with your friends right behind you.

"So this is the main hall where clothings get sewed together, the opposite doors are where all the fabric cutting happens. And the last door at the end of the corridor is the warehouse. We have another one on the upper floor, but that's for cleaning items only." 

Leading them around, letting them inside to check stuff from close distance. You even met somebody who was going home late, wishing them a nice evening. 

As the building seemed to be quite small from outside, there were many rooms inside. And even more things stuffed in.

"What's this room for?"

The blonde asked while he stood in front of the nameless door. Whilst you just chuckled.

"Some call it a relaxing room, others a sleepy room. It's just to assure nobody gets overly overworked. I know some people stay here until evening despite their work hours ends in mid afternoon." 

Both Aether and Paimon's lips are curling into an 'o'. Probably they did not expect to come across such a room like this. They followed you to your office. Well the office you shared with your assistant.

When you opened the door you found the lady sitting behind the table. She looked up and her eyes sparkled with joy. Getting up and coming closer to embrace you as always.

"Welcome back Lady y/n! I did not expect you to come this week!" 

You returned the embrace as it was something you always do with her. She was like a close friend to you despite the age difference between the two of you. She might have two kids around age of 10 but she is still looking so young and pretty. Also she loves to spoil you like you are one of hers.

"Mrs. Yue this is Aether and his friend Paimon I told you about during my last visit. Aether, Paimon this is Mrs. Yuefeng, my assistant and probably the main pillar of this company."

It was hilarious to observe how the two of them didn't know the greeting here. Trying to mimic what Yue did. 

"Welcome at Qingshan Clothing! You are indeed very cute as Lady y/n said, hmm maybe too much."

Your eyes glancing between her and Aether, mouth partially opened to say something. Coughing away the awkwardness. 

"Please don't mind it. Everyone's cute in her eyes. At least everyone who is younger, which is practically all of us."

"Mmmh! Indeed! You are cute kiddies. I can't believe you are the ones who saved Mondstadt from the Stormterror. You look so innocent but you know what they say. Don't judge a book by its cover."

Yue giggled at her own remark. She was always like this, it was hard to believe such a nice lady like herself can deal with rough business so flawlessly. You glanced over at the table, noticing the mountain of paperwork.

"Well it's getting late. How about you go home my friend? I told you several times not to stay overtime." 

It felt weird to actually lecture a woman who could be acting as your mother but you had no choice. She smiled at you with a tired face.

"I hate to break it to you but this is urgent and has to be done by tomorrow morning. We were stressing about finishing the order in ti-"

"And that's exactly why I order you now to pack your stuff and go home. Relax. Enjoy kiddies and your husband. I'll finish it."

You gave up on having the entire evening free but oh boy you hated people working overtime. Why people can't just chill out. Always in stress and rush.

"But Lady..." She didn't finish her sentence. Your expression was more than serious. 

"Very well. Thank you, I'll treat you tomorrow for some tea. Oh! The rite! We could go there together and after it ends we will crash at our usual spot!" 

Well not like you had something against it. You came here mainly because of the rite. Everything else was just convenient enough, happening along the way. Entrusting Aether with Paimon to Yue's care. As she could take them to an inn. Observing how they disappeared behind a corner. 'I hate this work so much... I wonder if Diluc also has to deal with stuff like this or has people for it.’

Previous ✨ Next

[hazza-bear-care]

Bound to Adoration

A/N: I came up with this idea when I was high, so I hope this makes sense in execution. 

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Reader went out for a girl’s night and comes home crossfaded. Steve isn’t happy, Bucky and Reader try to calm him down. 

Warnings: Mentions of drug use and drinking

~~~~

The night was amazing. After months and months of excruciating and time consuming missions, (Y/N) was very happy for the opportunity to go out for a night of fun with a group of her girlfriends. Club hopping was a good idea on paper, but not in execution seeing as all 6 women were stumbling through the streets wearing ridiculous heels. At the third club, the group decided to make that one the end of their clubbing journey, the sticky vinyl booth their home for the rest of the night. 

“(Y/N)! Wanna go smoke a joint really quickly? I promise we’ll be back soon.” Nodding, the girls slipped out of the booth and to the front entrance of the club, the blunt already blazing. The air around them was cold, but that was soon forgotten as the skunky smell surrounded the girls with each inhale, the weed and alcohol mingling nicely. (Y/N)’s head was fuzzy, her already cheery mood boosted even more due to the joint that was rolling through her fingers. A few moments later, the joint was snuffed against the brick wall of the club and the pair decided to head back into the sweaty atmosphere of the building behind them to enjoy the rest of the partying time. 

At 3 a.m., the six girls decided to call it a night after two decided to participate in a vomiting contest. They split up into two Ubers and (Y/N)’s friend sparked up another blunt, of course after confirming that it was okay with the man driving the car. The little sedan was soon hotboxed to the max, a steady cloud of weedy air settling over the group. (Y/N) took one last hit as the Uber pulled up to the gate of the Avenger’s compound. 

“Do you want me to walk up with you?” The driver asked, being the only sober one in the car. 

“No thank you. I appreciate it though! Night, guys!” (Y/N) got out of the car and winced at the sharp gravel under her bare feet, her heels tucked securely under her arm. She started to shiver as she punched in her gate code, the warmth of the compound seeming too far away. With a groan, she pulled out her phone and dialed the only number she could think of for whenever she had a long night. 

“Where are you?” Natasha grumbled, picking up after barely half a ring. 

“Just inside the gate. Took an Uber tonight.” (Y/N) responded as she tried to mask the sound of her chattering teeth. 

“You’re cold. I’ll come grab you in a few.”

“Bring a hoodie!” (Y/N) finished, a light chuckle coming from the other end of the phone before Natasha hung up. Two minutes later, Natasha’s sports car was in front of the crossfaded girl. She stumbled over to the passenger side of the car and was immediately met with warm leather, Natasha’s perfume, and a soft fleece thing thrown at her head. 

“Did you have fun?” Natasha asked, waiting patiently for (Y/N) to put on the jacket before driving up to the compound. 

“Oh yeah, Nat. It was fantastic and very much needed.” (Y/N) slurred, the warmth of the car and the jacket comforting her so much that she almost fell asleep in Natasha’s car. 

“I’m not the only one awake, sweets.” (Y/N) didn’t have to ask what she meant. Bucky and Steve never went to bed on nights their girl decided to go out, needing the assurance that she would come home safe. 

“I know, Nat. Do you have any spray or something? I smell like weed.” Natasha nodded with a laugh, handing the loopy girl a bottle of body splash. After practically bathing in the spray and suffocating Natasha, the two girls exited the car and walked into the compound. Everything was quiet, almost too quiet even for (Y/N)’s crossfaded brain. She made her way to the elevator, the glass room taking her and Natasha to their respective floors and (Y/N) couldn’t have been more excited to see her men. Natasha’s floor came first, the fiery red head bidding her companion goodnight. (Y/N) used the last three minutes of her elevator ride to mentally prepare for the lecture she would get from Steve about how bad drinking and smoking are for your body and blah blah blah. She wouldn’t deny it, but it makes life more fun.   

“Well, I hope you had fun, (Y/N).” Bucky and Steve were waiting for her to get off the elevator before cornering her in their room. 

“I did. It was great. Thank you guys for letting me go out.” Slurring again, she stepped into the room and began discarding her clothes, opting her skin tight party dress for a pair of comfy sweats and a tight tank top.  

“You smell like sweat and weed, (Y/N),” Steve grimaced as he watched her undress, marveling at her dexterity. Whenever she drank at one of Tony’s parties, she drank so much that Steve literally had to carry her back to the room. 

“And what’s wrong with enjoying a little high now and then?” (Y/N) teased, wrapping herself in one of Bucky’s hoodies before fluttering to the bathroom. 

“Well, nothing, but do you have to do it as often as you do?” Steve asked from his place by the bedroom door. (Y/N) froze. 

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, (Y/N) I’m not. Every night you come home and you reek of marijuana. It gets to be too much sometimes.” (Y/N) dropped the wet rage she had just placed to her face in order to remove her makeup, storming back to where Steve was still standing. 

“I can’t believe you! I was expecting a lecture, but not an accusation, Steve!”

“What are you talking about? I know that this is what you’re doing whenever you go out (Y/N)!” Steve’s voice started rising, not caring that the rest of the compound was asleep. 

“Steve, this is the first time she’s been high in front of you,” Bucky chimed in, the brunette spilling one of (Y/N)’s secrets. 

“What? You’ve seen her like this before?” Steve asked, shocked that Bucky had seen their girl in this shape before. 

“Stevie, I’ve been high in front of Bucky twice. He had to come pick me up the last time I hung out with my girlfriends because I knew you’d be worried if I didn’t come home.” Steve was still dumbfounded by what he was hearing. He trusted her with her friends, but she didn’t have to come home if she knew it wouldn’t be smart. 

“And the second time would be tonight,” Bucky finalized. He enjoyed (Y/N) when she was high; she was funny and ridiculously horny, but because she was under the influence neither Steve nor Bucky would act on what she was feeling. 

“But you smell like weed after you hang out with your friends?”

“Because they smoke more than I do and they smoke around me. I never partake as often as I used to before I met you guys. I may call you ‘Daddy’ in bed, but I don’t actually need you to act like a father, Steve.” In a flash Bucky was up off the bed, his metal hand tightening around her neck. 

“Oh no, Doll. You’ve got it mixed up: I’M Daddy. Steve is Captain. Or do we have to remind you?” Bucky teased, his thumb traveling to her mouth and dipping behind her lips, the metal cool on her tongue. The healthy mix of alcohol and weed dancing in her body made (Y/N) shiver at the commanding tone spilling from Bucky’s lips. The soldier smirked and patted her cheek, resuming his position on the bed and leaving (Y/N) pressed up against the wall. 

“I hate you, Bucky. I’m going to take off my makeup now.” Stumbling into the bathroom, (Y/N)’s hazy mind could only flash pictures of her intimate moments with her super soldiers, the projections making her weak in the knees. She knew neither of them would act on their feelings with the state she was in, but she could almost guarantee a frustrating day of teasing coming soon. Once her face was clean and moisturized, she went back into the bedroom where her favorite people were already laying; Steve on the left and Bucky on the right with a warm spot between them just big enough for her to slip into. 

With the excitement of the night now completely worn off, (Y/N) was tired. She crawled quite ungracefully to her place in bed, the neediness and desire for attention settling comfortably in her bones as she snuggled under the duvet. After bugging for five kisses each from Steve and Bucky, and a LOT of fruitlessly convincing them that she was sober enough for a little more fun, (Y/N) snuggled into Bucky’s arms as Steve read A Tale of Two Cities to both of his loves until they fell peacefully asleep. 

As much as he hated the smell of marijuana, Steve honestly couldn’t imagine his life without the little extra flavor (Y/N) added to his life. He was happy that she was happy and he’d do anything to keep her that way, even if it meant buying her a dispensary of her own. With a smile on his face, he kissed her and Bucky softly, wrapping an arm around his loves. 

“Love you, Stevie.” A quiet mumble fell from (Y/N)’s lips as Steve settled into bed. 

“Ditto, princess. Ditto.” 

[serenasoutherlyns]

Not me not knowing that Jill Hennessy (or Bebe Neuwirth for that matter) was in the original Law & Order! I love both of them. I really need to watch it now.

omg how!!!!

babes-- ok ok allow me to introduce you to my beloved tracey kibre and my beloved claire kincaid.

so first of all-- YES everyone, especially those who like SVU (especially the earlier seasons) should watch the original Law & Order. It's SUCH a good show in so many ways, and very different to SVU in a lot of ways. It's more formulaic but it does its formula really well, and has some of the best writing and acting on TV imo. There are so many excellent characters to get attached to (personally I am partial to all the lawyers but the detectives are lovable too) and the story lines are often really captivating, even after you can guess everything that's coming next.

SO-- Bureau Chief ADA Tracey Kibre (Bebe Neuwirth) is the core character of Law & Order: Trial by Jury, which is an a) criminally underrated and b) unforgivably short-lived, lawyer-focused spinoff from 2005 that lasted only 13 episodes :( because Jerry Orbach (RIP) was supposed to be on it and he died and then the show kind of lost steam (it has not achieved much recognition which makes me so sad). I think of Kibre as a more emotionally complex Jack McCoy, in that she'll do things that are risky because she thinks they're the right thing to do, that she sometimes almost crosses lines, there's something tortured and sad about her; oh and also she's definitely sleeping with her second chair.

TBJ is absolutely worth a watch, hard to find though. I had to buy it on Prime (again though, worth it!). Here are some images to prove my point:

One of my favorite moments of TBJ is in episode 9, where Tracey is about to suborn perjury because she's so desperate to get a conviction, but she stops because of what her second chair, Kelly Gaffney, said the previous day. It's this moment of emotional conflict and feelings of guilt and obligation and aaaa it's so good. As they leave the courtroom, Tracey says to Kelly "I hate it when you gloat," which is perfect because Tracey is the one prone to gloating and Kelly never has to do anything to assert her correctness. It's beautiful.

then we have Claire Kincaid.

Claire. Ms. Kincaid. She's SO amazing. Pretty much everybody's favorite ADA (like I don't know if that's real but i have a gut feeling it's the truth, maybe Abbie has her beat for some? I'm partial to many of them). She has some of the best lines in the show as well.

She's incredibly fiery and takes absolutely no bull, she also has a melancholy to her character in season 6 when she's having some serious ethical misgivings about her career. She's also definitely sleeping with Jack McCoy and while that goes against literally all of my usual ship rules, oh my GOD the way the show writes in the little moments of innuendo??? is so so good. This blog has all the Claire Content (and Claire/Jack content) you'll ever need outside of the show itself, very much a good resource. The problem is, her seasons of L&O (4,5,6) are not available for streaming, so you have to pull some slightly sketchy shit to get it online. Worth every porn ad <3. She's there in all her 1990s glory... she's perfect. Ugh I don't even have good words to use. She's incredibly smart, the moral voice of her office in a lot of ways, and she takes things very personally. She's also a Feminist in a way thing I find super endearing.

It's 100% worth the watch. I've grown to like the original L&O more than SVU (and more than TBJ but only because TBJ wasn't given the room to grow into what it could've been) by quite a bit. Watch TBJ because I need to no longer be the only person in the fandom (I exaggerate but.). Tagging @imaginaryoperagloves who always has great L&O opinions, in case there's anything you want to weigh in on? <3

tl;dr, watch these shows. and P.S. Can I add? do yourselves a favor and give Homicide: Life on the Street a chance :)