#Truth Uncovered

[thecoronersreport1]

Don't miss the thrilling conclusion to Miss Maybelline, the Pied Piper, and a Clown Named Hobby, where we connect the dots between all the characters and puzzling events that have captivated listeners worldwide.

With new revelations and unexpected twists, we will uncover secrets that have been hidden for decades. Share the excitement and intrigue with friends and fellow mystery enthusiasts who won't want to miss how the story finally unfolds. Listen to the Coroner's Report Podcast, and prepare for an unforgettable finale!

Apple Podcast

https://podcasts.apple.com/.../the-coroners.../id1705746048

Spotify

iHeart

https://www.iheart.com/.../269-the-coroners-report.../

Amazon Music

https://music.amazon.com/.../the-coroner%E2%80%99s-report

#TruthUncovered hashtag#Arson hashtag#unsolvedcrime hashtag#lidosile hashtag#huntingtonbeach hashtag#maybellinequeen hashtag#Orangecounty hashtag#truecrime hashtag#conwaytwitty hashtag#HotSprings hashtag#Arkansas hashtag#lakehamilton hashtag#unsolvedmysteries hashtag#unsolvedmystery hashtag#unsolvedhistory hashtag#maybellineprince hashtag#maybelline hashtag#coronersreport hashtag#hotsprings hashtag#hotSpringsArkansas hashtag#Arkansas hashtag#hotspringsnationalpark hashtag#lgbtqcommunity hashtag#Arkansastruecime hashtag#truecrimepodcast hashtag#arkansaspodcast hashtag#northlittlerock hashtag#northlittlerockarkansas hashtag#lasvegaslocals hashtag#LasVegasCrime hashtag#truecrimeandchill hashtag#truecrime hashtag#truecrimepodcast

[orgasmictomato]

DSC05218 (c1) (1)rsz by Jim Via Flickr: A sample of "Dimensional Entities" that are seen in the sky in Australia and captured on video to enlighten some to reality, not as you know it. All images are genuine and backed by a $10,000 guarantee of authenticity as taken and preserved on archive with my Sony HDR-SR12E camera super nightshot mode IR with colour enhanced for presentation only. No CGI alterations or manufacture is involved here. I suggest you view at original size screen for closer inspection. (that's right click, - original )

[insanethrottlebikernews]

Debunking the Myth: Chicago Outlaws MC and Chicago Mob Collaboration

#OUTLAWS #CHICAGOOUTLAWS #OUTLAWSMC We delve the truth behind the rumored partnership between the Chicago Outlaws MC and the notorious Chicago Mob. Join us as we separate fact from fiction to reveal whether these two powerful entities are truly working together or if it’s all just a captivating myth. Discover the web of speculation in our quest to tell the real story behind this fantasy of…

[allastoredeer]

Oh how the turn tables…

[innerchildabortionclinic]

sucks to be psychotic on social media because everyone is so fucking stupid and conspiracy brained they'll just validate everyone's delusions without even having any sort of mental health condition. why can't we put your annoying ass on antipsychotics then?

[deeversuswords]

‧˚₊ TRUTH EXPOSER series

PAIRING — Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki/Vigilante F!Reader

RATING — Explicit

CONTAINS — heavy angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), mutual pining, slow burn, eventual smut, moral ambiguity, cheating (not between katsuki/reader), unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief/mourning, dark themes (past abuse, stalking, kidnapping, torture, quirk trafficking), violence, swearing, open but hopeful ending, dual pov (mostly reader), no use of y/n ◆ married bakugou katsuki—not to reader—and has a daughter too ◆ characters are in their late 20s

CHAPTERS & WORD COUNT — 11/54 ◆ ~40.8k (currently)

FIC STATUS — ongoing

SUMMARY — Running away would be the sensible thing to do. Getting as far away as possible from him, the one person who’s your ticket to losing your freedom. Not searching for him out of stupid curiosity and showing up at the last place you should: his house.

They say curiosity killed the cat, but yours seems to always end up as the key unlocking doors that should probably stay locked.

Because when you open the door to Bakugou Katsuki’s life, it’s not a loving marriage, not a happy family of three you find, but falsity, forced duty, and a dark secret that threatens his very own life.

Bakugou Katsuki, the pro hero tasked with catching you and your downfall. And you, the vigilante exposing ugly truths for a living—his salvation.

➥AO3 LINK // new chapter every Wednesday @ 3 PM UTC

a/n: might want to check AO3 for some tag specificity. gotta love walking on eggshells outside the archive when it comes to tags XD

—regarding taglist, if you're interested in being on it, please let me know! and if you're already and want off, feel free to poke me :)

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11

[sclappin]

There is a very specific type of character that hurts my heart so, so badly that I have to go lay down if I think about them too hard, and it's whatever Claudia and Laura both are.

I think they should hang out. I think they should scream together. I think they should commiserate. I think they should keep their secrets while sizing each other up. I think they should talk about girls they like.

[alwaysbewoke]

i have to remember not everyone in florida voted for these people in power because it's hard to feel sorry for them sometimes. really hard (watch til the end smfh)

and she's going to turn around the vote for him AGAIN smfh

[bookshelf-in-progress]

I love how a well-written romance is so often structured as a mystery. A person starts with a certain idea about another person, and over the course of the story, they uncover more evidence that gives them a fuller picture of who the other person truly is. They learn about layers to the personality and backstory that give the other person more depth. They learn how the other person's personality meshes with theirs. Even the third-act misunderstanding fits the mystery structure--it looks like they've uncovered the final secret to the other person's identity, which is that they're not the worthy person they seemed to be, but then discover that they misinterpreted that evidence, or the other person takes steps to apologize and repair the level of trust. When the mystery is resolved, they've reached a full understanding of each other and know they've found a partner they can trust their whole future to.

[reality-detective]

Declassified documents show President John F. Kennedy warned Israeli Prime Minister Levi Eshkol in 1963 that U.S. support for the young country would be “seriously jeopardized” if Israel did not allow the United States periodic inspections of Israel’s nuclear reactor.

Later that year on November 22, 1963 John F. Kennedy was assassinated. 🤔

[budd-ie]

“Mu Qing is too logical for his own good” is such a real problem that he deals with and as tragic as it makes his life I also think it’s really funny when someone is accusing him of something and instead of telling them to shut up or leave him alone the first thing he does is pull out the 95 fucking theses detailing every single thing wrong with their argument WITH historical evidence and additional considerations from scholarly psychology articles, MLA format works cited and completely annotated. It could use an editor and some bias correction, but he actually makes a pretty good point. anyways tgcf ace attorney au when

[orgasmictomato]

DSC05218 (c1) (1)rsz by Jim Via Flickr: A sample of "Dimensional Entities" that are seen in the sky in Australia and captured on video to enlighten some to reality, not as you know it. All images are genuine and backed by a $10,000 guarantee of authenticity as taken and preserved on archive with my Sony HDR-SR12E camera super nightshot mode IR with colour enhanced for presentation only. No CGI alterations or manufacture is involved here. I suggest you view at original size screen for closer inspection. (that's right click, - original )

[justsomeoneunordinary]

Finished watching Melody of Golden Age (fantastic show, I highly recommend!!!) and pretty much since the beginning I've been imagining a MadaTobi AU, so:

Madara is the head of the imperial guards (or whatever the Edo Japanese equivalent is, Idk (samurai?)), and Tobirama works just as a clerk at the Ministry of Justice (or again, the equivalent of it). He mostly does the autopsies even though his intellect makes him an excellent investigator that he could even be the chief inspector - he just prefers to be among the dead bodies.

For his fantastic work and loyalty, the Damiyou bestows Madara with a marriage to the firstborn son of the Senju family. The Damiyou is so kind to take Madara's sexuality into account and it's said, that the firstborn Senju is a beauty among men, a connoisseur of music, poetry, art and dance, a very refined man who'd be perfect for someone like Madara.

It's very unlucky then, that just a few hours before that Hashirama disappeared to elope with the love of his life - Uzumaki Mito. Even worse, following the Damiyou's letter another one by one of the Damiyou's advisors arrives, ordering the firstborn Senju who's to marry Madara to spy on him (or else.)

Tobirama is none of those things Hashirama is being praised for, but he still steps up to take on his role and save his family from impending doom. Unfortunately for him, Madara knows Hashirama from their childhood days and is perfectly aware that Tobirama is not the firstborn child he is to marry. Fortunately for him, though, Madara holds fond feelings for his childhood friend and won't snitch him out and risk him being executed.

Neither of them wants this marriage. But neither can refuse. Madara was all but ordered to and the Senju were all but threatened with their lives if they were not to follow through. Which is why they desperately try to get the other one to divorce him.

Madara - and under his order, the rest of the Uchiha residence - tries to terrify the hell out of Tobirama, constantly holding his sword close to Tobirama's neck and threatening him. And while Tobirama absolutely thinks Madara to be a madman, he is confident Madara won't kill him - he'd have to face the Damiyou's wrath otherwise. So he stands his ground and instead tries to irritate Madara into divorce by bringing the whole residence into chaos with petty tricks like making a mess of Madara's office, eating in their shared bed which drives Madara up a wall, cooking Madara's food too spicy, extinguishing the lanterns during the night...

None of it works but it doesn't stop them from trying. Meanwhile, they also begin to collaborate on big cases. It's the investigations they work on together that bring them closer, rather than their marital bed because for all they can't stand the other one, they can acknowledge the other's intellect.

It takes Tobirama way too long to figure out Madara has so many lanterns alighted at night because he suffers from night blindness. Once he does figure out, he puts all his focus into sciencing a cure. Because he likes the challenge, not because he cares or anything...

Madara on the other hand is aware Tobirama is here to spy on him (and Tobirama is aware that Madara knows... doesn't change the fact that he somehow has to) and yet never rattles him out. Totally only because of Hashirama and not because he worries what'd happen to Tobirama if he were to...

And if Tobirama's spying notes only consist of Madara's meal schedule rather than any useful information ("Oh, well, what can I do? Madara is very careful and will not let me get close to any of his work lalala"), and if Madara changes the residence more and more to Tobirama's liking and even has a lab built for him? Well, then that means nothing. it's not like they're falling in love or something, noooo....

Anyway, in the end they solve a major case, save the Damiyou's life, expose the counselor who wanted Madara to be spied on and live happily after. The End

[sterkeyra]

Current Status of Voltage Titles

I decided to make an overview of the JP status of the Voltage titles of the Love365 / 100Koi apps and their console titles. A lot of the apps titles are currently nearing their end and I'm curious what they still have up their sleeve. I know i'm delusional but with all the ending titles they might have capacity to work on some of their Hiatus stories again?

Ending

Kissed by the Baddest Bidder: MS ended

Metro PD: Tennoji, Kirisawa, Nomura & Himuro final baby stories left

Destind: Towards the End? Just Yuri & Takane left i think (UPDATE 2/25: Both got married now and the title will end in March with their baby stories)

Kings of Paradise: Hiatus; Tsubaki and Blood Moon have been cancelled, artist is currently working on a Kop Manga (UPDATE 2/25: They announced that they will release the final stories this year. So this will conclude as well)

Irresistible Mistakes:

>Shunichiros MS ended after S9 (he officially has more seasons than Eisuke)

>Keita, Toma, Jun, Maki might get final stories.

>New Aki & Minoru (uncertain what's going to happen to them)

New

Can We Start over? : S1 (& S2 of Kento) released in EN/ S2 released in JP

Wait, I'm the Bride?! : S1 released in EN / S2 released in JP

Friends with Benefits (TBA in EN) / S2 of Tsubaki in JP

Another unknown title will release this year on JP

Ongoing

Her Love in the Force: All continue since one of JPs favorite titles. Maybe Shinonome, Soma or Namba update next?

Masquerade Kiss: Boss ended, the others continue

Oops I Said Yes: Ukyo concluding, with Eiji potentially afterwards as well, Kunihiros S5 is on the JP schedule in December

Romance MD: Sens and Hoshos S3 is releasing next in JP

PLUST: S2 not announced yet

Hiatus

Tokyo Love Hustle: Hiatus; only Suzumu and Taro have been released. The other 3 are nowhere in sight. Compared to KOP they haven't been removed of the title yet though and still show coming soon

Liar: Main Stories of S1 & S4 on JP & some S5. However, Liar was not popular on Koi100, so the effort of archiving it in the app might have come to a stop

Console

Voltage rebranded their console department to AmuLit.

Even if Tempest: DLC is being worked on

Red Bells Lament: Main Characters got revealed and will release early 2025

Neon Mafia: TBA

Kaleido Tower: TBA

[deeversuswords]

‧˚₊ Truth Exposer 1: Uncovered — Ch.1

PAIRING — Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki/Vigilante F!Reader RATING — Explicit CONTAINS — heavy angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), mutual pining, slow burn, eventual smut, moral ambiguity, cheating (not between katsuki/reader), unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief/mourning, dark themes (past abuse, stalking, kidnapping, torture, quirk trafficking), violence, swearing, open but hopeful ending, dual pov (mostly reader), no use of y/n ◆ married bakugou katsuki—not to reader—and has a daughter too ◆ characters are in their late 20s SUMMARY — Running away would be the sensible thing to do. Getting as far away as possible from him, the one person who’s your ticket to losing your freedom. Not searching for him out of stupid curiosity and showing up at the last place you should: his house. They say curiosity killed the cat, but yours seems to always end up as the key unlocking doors that should probably stay locked. Because when you open the door to Bakugou Katsuki’s life, it’s not a loving marriage, not a happy family of three you find, but falsity, forced duty, and a dark secret that threatens his very own life. Bakugou Katsuki, the pro hero tasked with catching you and your downfall. And you, the vigilante exposing ugly truths for a living—his salvation.

➥AO3 LINK // ➥ AO3 CHAPTER LINK // ➥ TUMBLR CHAPTERS LIST

CHAPTER WARNINGS — n/a

WORD COUNT — ~3.6k

a/n: Hi! Welcome to the start of my Go-Big-or-Go-Home project! After one year of toying with the idea, outlining, drafting, rewriting, and suffering, part 1 is finally leaving the box. All I'm gonna say is...this isn't a light read and the ride will be long and bumpy as hell, but I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did writing it (many tears were shed).

Enjoy!🧡

BREAKING: Truth Exposer returns! Is Nakamura Yui done for? In a shocking revelation, Truth Exposer shatters the carefully curated image of rising fashion designer Nakamura Yui. The vigilante accuses Nakamura of being behind the poor working conditions of her employees and using blackmail to silence them. It doesn’t stop there. The designs Nakamura claims as her own appear to belong to her manager. As always, the known vigilante backs the allegations with evidence, including a detailed report outlining Nakamura’s actions and possible motivations. The scandal continues to shake the fashion industry. Stay tuned for further developments.

“Remember the guy I’ve been seeing?” the woman in front of you asked her friend, staring at her phone screen.

Her friend gave her a smug look and giggled. “Your police officer boyfriend? Oh, I remember him. Are you finally official?”

The woman’s cheeks flushed pink. “Sort of. But that’s not important. He told me something interesting the other day. A rumor.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Apparently, Dynamight is on Truth Exposer’s case. For two years now. Isn’t that strange?”

“Dynamight?” Her friend’s reaction was loud enough to draw attention, prompting the woman to hush her with a finger firmly pressed to her pink-stained lips. “Sorry. That’s just shocking. No way it’s true.” She shook her head in disbelief. “He’d have caught that vigilante by now.”

The woman pursed her lips. “Don’t be so sure. My, uh, somewhat boyfriend said his superiors are growing restless because…” She looked around as if she was about to impart the secret of the universe. “There’s no evidence, it seems. Almost as if…”

“Truth Exposer doesn’t exist?” her friend offered.

“Yeah,” she agreed, her expression shifting to one of concern.

You stifled a yawn as your attention drifted from the chatty women to the rest of the ice cream parlor and rolled your shoulders. The ridiculously long queue was killing you with boredom. What were you thinking? Coming here on a Saturday evening in the middle of freaking July. Summer was in full swing, and the chase for its sweet treats manic. Unbelievable how you’d ignored that simple fact and acted on your cravings, gleefully skipping past every single convenience store and making a beeline through half the city to reach your current location.

Your clothes stuck to your sweaty skin, making your eye twitch in irritation and sheer disgust, but that was what you deserved when you stubbornly refused to satisfy the cravings with simple ice cream. Picky tongue demanded artisanal. Rich, intense, creamy flavors.

Among the locals, the location was popular, open during the summer months, and closed for the rest. Each year brought a new theme, and this time around revolved around tropical islands. The seashell pillars from last year were replaced with artificial palm trees, their long, wide green leaves holding the baby blue shaded ceiling with splotches of white cotton. The intention was for the fluff to resemble the peaceful clouds of a sunny sky, but to you, it looked like something met its tragic end.

And then there was the floor, beloved by many, hated by you—sand. Actual sand. Points for the clever idea of upping the authenticity, but that was where your generosity ended. Minuscule pebbles invaded your shoes the second you walked in, and the constant sensation of something poking into your feet every time you stepped drove you mad. The beach was where it belonged, next to the ocean, not in your ice cream parlor.

You shifted your weight from one leg to the other and carried your visual exploration to the ice cream display. Fruity aromas escaped into the cool air, scenting the atmosphere with their sweet perfume. Delightful. If only your sense of smell was as average as everyone else’s. Your nose suffered from the notes of sweat, cheap cologne, and heated synthetic materials.

“What are you getting?” the woman from before asked her friend.

“One Tsukuyomi cup and one Pinky,” her friend responded, pointing at the mentioned pro heroes who were part of the lineup of themed ice cream flavors.

The woman’s expression turned judgmental. “Blackberries and bubblegum?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Your gaze landed on the two options when vibrant orange with black swirls tugged at your attention, and you could almost feel the arrogance of who was represented radiating off it. Your whole face scrunched up, because your silly stomach fluttered in anticipation of something you wouldn’t buy, even if the man himself paid you for it.

When it was finally your turn, the most pleasant smile slapped itself on your face as you pointed to the display, saying, “I’ll have everything you’ve got left of Dynamight’s ice cream.”

Everything stilled into awkward silence as the cashier blinked at you from behind the counter, his face flushing a faint shade of red. You blinked back, and smiled wider, confused about the reaction. What the hell was going on? Weren’t you clear in your wording? You said you wanted Dynamight’s ice cream.

Dynamight’s…ice…cream—

Shit.

“I mean, I’ll have everything you’ve got left of the Dynamight-themed ice cream,” you tried again, pretending your earlier request hadn’t sounded like you’d just asked for a different kind of ice cream. Although, if that was the color of his in-pants equipment, you'd probably book him an appointment with a doctor instead.

Defeated groans and whines saved you from the awkwardness, and you stole a glance at the group wanting a sweet piece of him as your fingers tapped to a random cheery rhythm on your thigh. Closing time was approaching fast, so restocking wouldn’t happen. You were terrible for robbing them of their dream, but pissing him off held much more appeal. So, so terrible.

“The ice cream comes with themed containers too?” you asked the cashier upon seeing your purchase stuffed into a container with the key pieces of his hero suit drawn on it.

“Yes,” the cashier responded, smiling back at you. “This year is special. The pro heroes themselves reviewed the products, and had the chance to participate in the process if they wanted.”

“Oh.”

Something told you Bakugou went all in. Put on the apron and the chef hat and the gloves, and dove hands first in the fresh ingredients. Checking the quality, tasting, and mixing, and probably swearing when things didn’t go his way. Images of him in a domestic role popped like inflated balloons in your head and sprinkled the authenticity of the situation over your synapses. Nothing about it was far-fetched, he was a married man and a father too.

Even though he kept his private life private, his wife had no problem sharing about it and praising him to the moon and stars for everything, including his incredible cooking abilities. Her husband this, her husband that. Your eyes rolled every single time you had the displeasure of hearing her. It was painfully obvious Bakugou didn’t appreciate her sentiment, but what was new?

So-called picture perfect couple, though not once did he publicly display a hint of affection. Not even one brief look full of love in her direction. You recognized fed up when you saw it, and he was already beyond that state.

Besides, he wouldn’t—

“Here you go, Miss.” The cashier interrupted the forbidden thought coming through. Forbidden for its smugness.

You paid for the ice cream and picked up the special bag it was packed in, designed to prevent the sweet treat from turning into melted mush. Then left the parlor, in denial about how satisfied you were with the purchase.

The street noise and its buzzing activity immediately assaulted your heightened senses, something you’d learned to appreciate in the past few years as it made the world much more interesting. Vivid colors, nuanced sounds, layered scents, pleasant textures, hidden tastes. Life was easier when you could sense the reminders of its worth in your experiences, just not in this moment. Your mind remained anchored to his existence and the dimming of the fire in his eyes with each passing month.

His last appearance, which wasn’t work-related but was clearly another PR move orchestrated by his wife, left you rather morbidly curious about the behind-the-scenes. It was a charity event, supposedly raising funds for research into the evolution of quirks, yet he looked like someone had blackmailed him into being there. You expected him to be interested, especially since his two-year-old daughter was slowly approaching the age where her quirk might manifest, but no—Bakugou’s expression remained frozen in a subtle scowl, his gaze vacant.

Trouble in paradise, maybe?

You scoffed. Who cared? Not you. It was none of your business.

The game was just that—a game. Disconnected from reality, impersonal.

Personal was finding a nice, quiet spot under the starry sky, preferably out of sight, where you could sit and satisfy your craving for something sweet and cold. That was what you needed, not putting Bakugou’s life under a microscope and critically examining it like a specimen.

He didn’t know you, and you didn’t know him. Not as two people living in the same world, under the same sky, breathing the same air, anyway.

Quickening your pace, you navigated the crowd, grimacing whenever some sweaty stranger brushed against you, and stopped at the crossroad, squeezing your way into the front row. As the green light ushering the cars by illuminated the moving traffic and the rancid smoke rising from the exhaust, you debated between going left or right once you crossed. The decision was quickly made upon spotting the small park tucked between the buildings lining the two side streets flanking it.

No bench was occupied, marking it the perfect spot for your little adventure.

Red turned to green for pedestrians, forcing the traffic to halt, and you followed the flow of the crowd when the back of your neck pricked with alert. Your fingers tightened around the bag handles, adrenaline kicking up a notch in your veins. The urge to swivel around and inspect burned at the edges of your instinct, but you resisted.

If you were indeed being watched, or worse, followed, the dumbest thing would be to let them know you knew.

You strode forward, pretending nothing was wrong. As if the inside of your skull wasn’t ringing like a cathedral from the brutal reverberations of alarm bells rising in volume, with the biggest Run. Run. Run! sign on its altar, bathed in divine light.

What more signs did you—

An arm seized your waist and yanked you into a hard body.

“Keep walkin’,” a deep voice spoke, and the blood drained from your head.

Impossible. This wasn’t happening.

Panic exploded in your chest, and your fight-or-flight instinct roared to life. Your unoccupied hand clenched into a fist and struck with every ounce of your strength into his gut. A low grunt followed your retaliation, drawing the attention of the crowd. You didn’t stick around for more.

You ripped yourself from his hold and burst into a sprint that would put him to shame, mentally cursing your luck. Or maybe it was fucking karma for buying that stupid ice cream. Speaking of, you hurled the bag in a random direction. Someone screamed as it flew through the air before hitting the pavement with a thud.

No indulging today—only running for your life to escape the hound currently hot on your heels.

Free of the dead weight, you skidded around the corner onto the side street, gritting your teeth as you sprinted faster. Your shoes pounded the ground, nearly drowning out the sound of his footsteps, which were closer than expected. You risked a glance over your shoulder and locked eyes in a brief, yet overbearingly intense connection with the red gaze fixated on you. Oh, joy. Your heart jumped into the first rocket and shot for the moon overhead.

Think. Think. Think.

“Screw this.”

In a moment of absolute recklessness, you bolted into the sparse traffic just as a car approached. Honks blared. Tires screeched. Death’s chilly claws scraped down your sweaty back. You hopped onto the hood of a car and slid over the heated metal to the other side, safely.

“Are you fuckin’ insane?!” His rage ripped through the humid air, bringing it to a paralyzing boil with a boom so loud you felt the shockwave shove you forward.

And then you were hauled off your feet and slammed face-first into the tall shrubbery fencing the park you’d wanted to enjoy that evil ice cream in. Heavy panting consumed your hearing as steely arms banded around your body, locking your arms in place, their muscles made of something that couldn’t be human. Rigid with power and strength.

“Goddamn it, woman. You’re a handful,” he panted in your ear, the rough rasp of his voice sending a very, very inappropriate shiver down the length of your body pressed against his front.

“Explains why your hands are so full,” you quipped, sarcasm the sin you shouldn’t have committed with the man who ate it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. His coiled arms constricted around your ribs, expelling a gasp from your lungs amidst the heaving breaths. “I didn’t peg you for a ribs-breaker, Dynamight,” you spat his hero name.

“You’re a slippery one, so gotta hold on tight, Truth Exposer.” He spat yours in return.

Laughter wheezed out of your mouth. “Who? Sorry, but you’ve got the wrong person.”

“That the card you wanna play?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t. C’mon. We ain’t havin’ that talk here.”

“What? I’m not going anywhere with you.” You jerked in his harsh embrace, and squirmed like a worm on a hook, trying to escape the gaping maw of a hungry fish, growling, “Let me go. You can’t just randomly restrain someone. It’s power abuse, assho—hero!”

Despite your continuous protest he clearly didn’t give a fuck about, Bakugou dragged you away from the street, struggling and kicking, into the dead-end alleyway behind the park. He shoved you toward the wall, next to a dumpster buzzing with flies, and you managed to catch yourself in time before your face made contact with the filthy concrete.

Your hand flew to your mouth as you dry-heaved a few times from the rotting smell of garbage, having been under the scorching sun for more than a day. Whatever the hell was in there had been triple-cooked and extra ripened.

“Can punch, but can’t handle a little bit of stink?” he mocked, and you whirled on him, glaring fiercely.

“If I puke, I’m puking on you. How’s that for a little bit of stink?”

One side of his mouth quirked into a cocky grin that had your earlier panic morph into an irrational urge to wipe it off his face. Your hands clenched into trembling fists, nails biting into your palms.

“Don’t. You had your shot,” he said, his arms crossing over his chest, muscles flexing with the motion. “Be smart. Accept that you can’t win and let’s have a nice little chit-chat, yeah?”

Your brows lifted as you leveled him with a hard stare. Sweat slid down his temple, some dripped from that high bridge of his nose and onto his parted lips, and it was those beads you followed the descent of. They gathered on his chin and dripped on his veiny forearms before splattering on the ground at its feet.

Of course, the bastard was dressed to show off, even when he was out hunting... for you. Tank top and shorts so randoms could drool over his biceps and strong legs? Check. Custom-made cap to hide his identity? Check. Latest trendy sneakers? Check. You’d bet half your fortune his underwear was expensive too, probably tight over his ass and...

No.

No, no.

No, no, no.

Still, against better judgment, your eyes lingered on the cut of his body, taking note of everything that mattered. Bakugou could snap you like a twig if he wanted to. So could you—mentally, at least. One touch, poisoned with ill intent, and he’d drop like a felled tree. Brain stunned. Nerves fried. Unable to scream for help, or beg for death.

If only you could muster that intent toward him.

Gaze bouncing back up to his, you felt your composure stumble. His own roved over you, slow and deliberate, like a teasing touch. As if memorizing you was the sole reason he existed. Your heart skipped, tiny kicks against your ribs. Traitorous little bitch. Your senses too; they completely zeroed in on him.

Steps away, yet his cologne suddenly overpowered the putrid stench around you. Spiced heat, tangled in notes of something that was naturally him. He smelled…good. Good enough to cloud your judgment and weaken your knees.

Would he taste the same?

No. Stop. Your moral compass shuddered. He was your ticket to confinement. And a married man.

“Chit-chat about what?” You aimed for a steady voice; what came out was breathy.

He didn’t hesitate. “You’re Truth Exposer. The biggest pain in my ass for the last two years.”

Bakugou stalked forward. You stepped back. Forward. Back. Again and again, until the ridged concrete wall halted your retreat. Distance didn’t seem to exist in his mind where you were concerned.

Shouldn’t he be more cautious? He barely knew anything about you, let alone the extent of your quirk. Officially, it heightened your five senses to an overstimulating, terrifying degree—all of them, or whichever you chose. You never bothered to update the information at the Quirk Registry and had no intention of doing so.

“So you say. Proof?” You flicked your gaze to the alley opening, tracking the occasional passing car while listening for sirens. Nothing. A slow smile played on your lips. “No police?”

“Nah. Can drag your stupid ass to ‘em myself.”

“Then why aren’t you?” You snapped your fingers near his face, taunting. “Ah, right. Because there’s a difference between thinking someone did something bad and suspecting them based on proof. You, Dynamight, have a little problem with the second, don’t you?”

His palm slammed above your head as he leaned in, warm breath tickling your lips. “Backhanded admission?” He scoffed. “Cocky little shit. Think you’re gettin’ out of this?”

“Unless you can back up your assumptions, yeah.” You stepped closer, erasing the last bit of space between you, your voice fading to a whisper. "Breaking news: Pro Hero Dynamight detains a civilian on baseless suspicions. Has dropping four rankings finally pushed him to cross the line in hopes of climbing back up?”

Low, rumbly chuckles spilled from his lips and onto yours. You blinked, taken aback by the pleasant sound and his open amusement, barely registering his fingers grasping your jaw. “Like I give a shit about my ranking when I found you. Now all I gotta do is follow your scent and wait for you to slip. Once you do that, I’ll be right there punishin’ you for it. Wanna guess who’ll shoot up in the rankings after?”

You stared at him for another beat before you jerked your head away, grimacing. “Following my scent? What are you, a dog?”

“Worse.”

“A stalker, then?”

Bakugou never got the chance to respond. His phone rang, blasting the most obnoxious sound in existence. Clicking his tongue, he fished it out of his shorts, gaze locked on yours, daring you to move. He snapped at the caller.

“This better be important. I’m busy.”

Being this close made you into an involuntary participant in the conversation. Bless your hearing, or curse it.

“You need to come home. It’s about your wife. And Yua,” the woman on the other end urged. His mother?

He instantly straightened. “Is my kid okay?”

“She’s fine, but come home.” Her voice sounded exhausted.

“Can’t it wait?” he asked, and your expression shifted into surprise. Shouldn’t he be running already?

“I caught her with another guy. What do you think, Katsuki? Can it wait?” Her tone suddenly whipped at the air through the speaker.

Another guy? Your mouth dropped open. His wife cheated on him? That wasn’t something you ever expected to hear.

“On my way.” He ended the call, pocketing his phone, and the weirdest thing happened.

When someone learned of their partner’s betrayal, there’d be hurt, anger, disgust; neither was present anywhere on him. Bakugou was either an expert at hiding his emotions, or something else was going on.

“Have fun sleepin’ with one eye open.”

He flicked your forehead, then jogged out of the alley, leaving you gawking at his retreating form, hand smacked over the stinging spot.

What the hell? And was that excitement you noticed in his eyes for a second before they left yours?

Ridiculous. In what world would he be excited about—

Your breath hitched. Was Bakugou waiting for something like this? For a reason to…end his marriage? Why?

Curiosity wrapped dangerously around your racing heart, and you shook your head. “Not my business.” It wasn’t. What he did, with whom, where, how. His life, in general, was not your business. “Move on. Pretend none of this happened. You didn’t hear. You didn’t see. You didn’t feel.”

Silence descended over the dead-end alley like a heavy mantle, fabric made out of secrets and denied truths. Each gone moment was more oppressive than the last. Your defenses asphyxiated under the pressure. Cracked. Loosened your self-control.

Weakness clawed to the surface.

You slapped your cheeks lightly a few times. You needed to remember why you had to stay far, far away from him. Somehow, he found you, putting your freedom at risk.

Your options took priority, your life, not his. Never…his.

The reason you spaced out, staring at the alley’s entrance, at the spot you’d last seen him, wasn’t the foreboding feeling creeping inside you; it was the unknown of your next move.