#after some fights mine was held together by a lot of duck tape because I hit a bit too hard

[kiradrinkalot]

One of my biggest fictional role models growing up was Xena the Warrior Princess

Because she was a fucking badass

And it feels kinda weird when some people now say female fictional characters who have similar clothing are too sexualised.

Like looking back as I'm older yeah she was hot. She had thighs that could crush a head and was dressed in leather and showed some skin.

But she was a force to be reckoned with.

And she was hot and she was super strong.

And as a little girl I wanted to be her. Not because of how she looked but because of how she was.

A badass fighter with cool weapons compassionate where it needed to be

...and the series may have started my obsession with swords and knives..

(which eventually lead me to LOTR and to join a historic swordsmanship club...and I still have my old wooden sword at home and still know how to use it)

[trying-write-fanfics]

Shouji Mezo X Reader part 4, Remember

 A couple days went by and the students adjusted to her presence. Most of them liked her and her weird nicknames. Though she remembered Sero’s name he even asked her for one, it was scotch like the tape to scotch on the rocks like the drink. Y/n was trying her best to adjust, her cool calm mask was secure, but under it, there was just so much pressure. She called Kamanri electric eel, Ojiro to orange juice, Sparkles was Aoyama, and there were more. Pressure to not be her, pressure to be around too many people daily, it was all crushing. Pretending to not be herself while still being herself.

 Aizawa told Y/n she’d get better with it as time goes on. The students didn’t seem too weirded out by her, yeah she was eccentric with things she would say, but it wasn’t bad. To learn more about her quirk, Aizawa tried getting her to do the exams he gave to the students on the first day. It was after hours at the school. 

“Just throw the ball as far as you can. Didn’t you do this in middle school?” He asked her. 

“No! I opted out of gym class.” Y/n snapped

She held the ball and looked down at it. He was tricking her into using her quirk, she figured that much. She was instructed not to use it, but she broke that rule so many times. Giving Aizawa a sly smile, she gave a petty toss. 

“Again.”

“Fine!”

 Giving a quick critical thought she pulled the ball back. Activating her quirk she threw the ball forward. As the ball released from her hand, ready to zoom and launch far far away, the happy baseball pitcher sight changed drastically. Y/n’s eyes widen releasing the quick consequence. Her arm squirt out with blood, and not a little bit. Y/n fell, clutching her wounded arm. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit.” Y/n fell to the ground cursing the pain.

 The ball binged saying it went far. Aizawa didn’t read it though, he was by the girl’s side. She was breathing heavy. He didn’t learn as much watching her use her quirk. She knew she would get hurt using her quirk, or that’s what he was told. He assumed her mother didn’t want her using her quirk because it was a hidden secret. But she really did get hurt. Y/n had to of known she would have been hurt. Why did she do it? Because she didn’t expect that to happen. She’s had this quirk long enough to know. 

“I’ll get you to recovery girl.”

“Don’t bother, I can handle this.”

“I don’t think that’s wise.”

“What do you even know. Just get me to my room.” Y/n growled.

He did wrap her arm up in bandages. He thought she denied the aid because it could hurt recovery girl but she let him help her so that wasn’t it. 

“Are you like Midoriya? If you can’t control your quirk it hurts you?”

“Beefcake’s quirk hurts him?” 

“He breaks his fingers.”

“Why do you let him use it then!”

“I don’t have that power. Besides most students have a backlash with quirks. When I use mine I get dry eyes.”

“I guess I didn’t think of that.”

“Don’t you have siblings and parents with quirks? What are their limits?” Aizawa asked.

“I wouldn’t know. It’s been awhile since all six of us have been together.”

“You don’t even know what your parents quirks are?”

“I mean I sorta do, they never wanted to be heroes so they don’t really use them ever. But my dad isn’t really my dad.”

“Oh, are you from a previous relationship?”

“No, my parents wanted to make a kid with a strong quirk, so my mother went to a sperm bank. I think my oldest two siblings are my dad’s blood kids.”

 Though it was weird, weirder than Enji Todoroki methods of creating the ultimate child, it wasn’t the most surprising thing that Aizawa heard. Y/n came from money, meaning if the family wanted some fame they wanted a kid to become a hero. Looking into the file more, her parents were worse looking into it. Sure it seemed the hero dream meant for Y/n wasn’t forced as much as it was expected to be, they were bad people. Her father helped bend laws to help her mother go further with experimenting on quirks, on people. Her mother tried launching an enhancing quirk business. Quality management knew how she obtained the knowledge for it wasn’t done ethically. Thinking they could combat the scientist from going too far, they wanted her to use one of her own children to see if it works safely before it gets advertised to the public. Months later she withdrew the business proposal . The child’s results weren’t documented or they were destroyed. The change for their daughters' life was gradual. The elementary school quirk exams didn’t get clear results before, but her pinky toe did show she had one. She was opted out of gym classes for health reasons. Middle school she was sent home often for falling asleep in class or getting sick. 2 months of private high school was switched to online. She had good grades, but this all had to be a plan. Isolated from the outside world and family. She stayed at the main house while her siblings were moved out, always gone, or traveling. Her father wasn’t home much, he traveled around the country for politics and even left the country for a short time. He was trying to change the licenses for quirks making them less regulated. With her parents gone she went to crime. The motive wasn’t the clearest, but teenage rebellion, just to feel something, to form a bond, it all seemed it was enough. 

The next morning when Y/n got to class. Aizawa didn’t expect her to come in, her arm didn’t have bandages. Instead it seemed she had a rash on her neck. She tried hiding it with another turtleneck but it’s partially sticking out. 

“One minute.” Aizawa told the class not letting the girl enter, he joined her in the hall. 

“What happened!” Aizawa asked.

“I healed my arm.”

“What happened to your face?”

“It’s from the healing.”

A healing strength quirk? Was it duo quirk? Was she even strong. What was her own healing? Was that what happened?

“Straightened out your quirk story right now.”

“I guess it’s kinda like a ponytail's quirk.” She groaned. 

 Y/n was exhausted. Sure she healed her arm but she was still tired from the pain. 

 “Yaoyorozu’s?”

“Yeah I can use a quirk I understand. When I’m in a lot pain I can understand healing. I can’t copy every quirk though like frog girl’s or else I would have to change my whole body which would probably destroy me before I got towards any completion.”

“So why does your body react the way it does?”

“I haven’t figured out a pattern. I can copy a weaker quirk and my body can still react violently and I can do something powerful and be fine sometimes.” Y/n explained.

“I can see why you avoid using your quirk. Are you sure you’re well enough to come in today?”

“Yeah, you guys took my phone. I'm bored as hell.” She told him.

Not the best reason but he let her in.

“What happened to your chin?” Pinky asked. 

“Are you okay, Velia?” Iida asked.

“I got into a fight and won!” She winked. 

 Again a weird thing to say for teaching aid. 

“Sort these papers.” Aizawa told Y/n. 

 “Who did you fight-“ red rock asked. 

“That doesn’t matter, back to work.” Aizawa said. 

Aizawa handed out a test to the students. Must have sucked to take a test on a piece of paper. All her online tests she managed to find good ways to cheat. Yeah they had a camera on her computer when she took tests, but keeping her notes in her lap so everytime she looked down it just looked like she was looking at the keyboard. It was a good trick when she was squeezed for time. Shouji caught her eye again. He uses an eye on one of his arms. 

“Aizawa please come down to the main office.”

“Can you watch the class, Velia?”

“Yeah.”

Midoriya watched Y/n sharply. Her face was the uncaring, bored look she had when sorting the papers. He was trying to figure her out. This was the distant face she kept, was she hiding something? She was like 2 different people. Most of the tests were turned in. 

 Y/n’s eyes then reached Midoriya’s. It wasn’t the bored look, but maybe the eyes of a predator. To Y/n and what she’s heard from the class and teacher, she assumes he was targeted by her mother. What terrible parents he must have, born quirkless and then went to her mother to pump a quirk in him. That’s what must have happened. 

“Beefcake, is it true you break your fingers every time you use your quirk?” She didn’t say it like the friend she was in the cafeteria. She said it like an investigator about to crack a case.

“Huh-“

“Why do you care about Deku?” Bakugo asked loudly. 

“Why so angry?” She asked, getting up and walking towards his desk. “You can’t handle someone else getting a question?”

“Just who the hell do you think you are lady? You’re just some pencil pusher.”

“Butt-u-go, was it?” She asked. “It’s your quirk that brings you pride, makes you special.”

“What-“ he growled but was cut off short when she put her hand in front of his face and gave him a small taste of his own power, a small explosion to the face. “What the hell did you just do?”

Bakugo got up and launched himself at the girl. Ducking under his arm she got behind him and kicked his butt to have him fall on the floor. The whole class was surprised. Though they wouldn’t call her one, she did seem like a pencil pusher, then here she was kicking the number one at the sports festival. 

“Consider that a small lesson, don’t launch a 100% of yourself in the first blow.”

“I didn’t ask for a lesson from you.”

“You wanna be a hero right? Try learning from everything you do.”

She was trying to be fake wise. 

“Is your quirk a copy quirk?” Uraraka asked

“Are you related to Bakugou?” Froggy asked.

Y/n looked at Yaoyorozu for a split second. She was also someone she actually knew. She was ready to compare the quirks, but didn’t. 

“It’s kinda a copy quirk, with many limitations.” Y/n explained. 

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #18)

(cw: vomiting) ----------

01/06/88  2:55 AM Hey.

Y’know what’s weird?

This is getting harder and easier at the same time.

I stayed at the edge of the forest until the arcade opened. It felt safer that way. If anyone wanted to sneak into our game and snuff me out, they’d have a tough time getting past the Surge Protector within working hours. Even still, there was the thought, how was I to know someone hadn’t somehow dodged all my booby traps, and was already waiting for me at my den?

Being paranoid sucks. I would not recommend it.

Once the quarters started rolling in, the thundering dull roar of gameplay eventually grounded me enough to breach the tree line. I bolted through the trees and reached my den, which was blessedly free of murderers, for the time being. I tore down all the curtains so no one could hide behind them, and I kept my back to a tree while I gave another real, more involved shot at using my brush.

I tried to make a pie, but just got cherry slime. I made way too many apples, oranges, and bananas. I made red strings, orange streamers, yellow confetti, red sequins, orange beads, yellow ribbons, always with the red, orange, yellow, red, orange, freakin’ yellow.

Everything about it made me sick. I felt betrayed. This was the one thing that I was supposed to be able to control, one of the few good things the Devs gave me. Now, rubbing handfuls of salt into the gaping wounds I was already nursing, they took it away, for what I preferred to think of as no reason at all. I’d find a reason if I let myself think about it, and it would not be good. The last thing I needed was more ‘not good’ things.

I’m a strong sprite, there’s no doubt about that. But that aforementioned weight on my shoulders was starting to really bear down, slowly carving hairline fractures in my bones. I wasn’t broken, yet. But I was sure as hell breaking, and there was crit all I could do to stop it. You know me, though. I’m not one to resign to fate, or whatever you’d call it. I’m a kicker and a screamer.

So, I kicked and screamed. 

Threw my brush, flipped my bed, ripped my papers down, shattered my mirror, pulled out clumps of hair and just screamed, just like in Fix-it’s apartment. I wanted to purge all the panic, rage, and desperation, and I wanted it to be easy.

That method usually works. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t this time. It didn’t really have time to. It actually… almost made things a lot worse, I guess. 

I was so loud, the gamer at controls heard me.

After I’d been screaming for a couple minutes, I had the absolute pixels scared out of me by deafening beats on the side of our cabinet, courtesy of Litwak. It sure shut me up, I can tell you that. I fell right on my ass and held my breath.

Way off, I heard Litwak say, “And… all better! Some of these older games can really start singin’ sometimes. Lemme know if there’s an encore, huh?”

Then, some kid’s voice giggled, “Thanks, Mr. Litwak!”

I got us smacked. Maybe that should have bothered me more than it did -- after all, that could only have added to my ‘danger to the game’ allegations. The Nicelanders would definitely go around saying that I’d gotten an Out of Order sign all ready to be taped to the screen after that. But there was hardly anything I could do anymore that wouldn’t have been incriminating in their eyes.

No, what bothered me was what he said. About how we were one of the ‘old games.’ I guess we’re the old games by default, now, with this wave of shiny newcomers being plugged in. But the way he said it just really made me think of how unfair it all is. All the first-generation Litwak’s Family Fun Centre games bust their bits for years to keep the quarters flowing, but hey, none of that matters once something new comes along. Like Roadblasters. I remembered all the grief I’d seen you go through once that flashy eyesore started leeching your ‘loyal fans’ -- and the very same giant wastoid who plugged it in now had the nerve to call games like mine, and by extension, yours, ‘these older games’? My gut burned with so much spite, I wanted to go break through the screen and rip out his moustache. 

Instead, I threw up in my laundry barrell. Somehow, less satisfying.

Once most of the chaos in my head had settled to more flexible levels, and after I’d been dry-heaving my feelings for a solid five minutes, I had a decision to make. The longer I stayed in my den, all alone, the more dread crept back into me. I wanted so badly to be able to be on my own, where no one could see how hard I was having to fight to keep it together, but that was just impossible. I couldn’t turn my back to the darkness. I could barely close my eyes. It felt like the worst kind of pathetic, like a scared little kid needing to sleep with the lights on. But there was no negotiating it -- I needed company. Real bad.

It didn’t take long for me to decide where to go. I was, by no means, in love with the idea, but I didn’t have much of a choice. After all, now that I was no longer speaking to Fix-it, there was only one other non-Nicelander left. Whether or not he’d kick me out on sight remained to be seen.

I stuffed my bag full of notebooks, slung my guitar over my shoulder, and wrapped a few things from my hoard (including a bucket) in a big makeshift blanket-sack, along with as many pillows as I could fit in. All the pillows in the world would not save me from those bricks, but one has to try.

I also found your scarf and goggles. You know. The burned ones. 

I’d kept them, of course, but I’d just been… ignoring them. They felt like the most pressing question of my life, and I hadn’t wanted to face them again until I had answers. But, suddenly, that changed. I don’t know how to describe why, right now. All I know is, when I wore them around my neck, it felt... right. In the most terrible way.

I almost never take them off, now.

Anyway, once all had been gathered, I grabbed the knot of the sack, and like the dull, flightless bird I’d become, I started trudging towards the most awkward series of sleepovers in my life.

Also known as the dump.

I didn’t bother waiting for the arcade to close, or even for the game to end, before crossing the map. The gamers seeing me wouldn’t do any damage -- quite the opposite, really. They love me in short spurts. That is, they love the idea of me.

Once I stepped into the light of the screen, they had their usual little freak out. 

“Woah, hey, what’s that!?”

“Get it, get it!”

I paused. Being on my way to cross behind the building, I was out of their playing range, but it’s not like they could tell, with their crummy depth perception. They puppeted Fix-it over, ‘til his long shadow almost touched my feet, and he looked over his shoulder as much as he could, straining to smile. The gamers mashed the fix button and bounced him around. Bing bing bing bing bing.

“I can’t get it--”

“Jump on it!”

“I am jumping on it! It’s like, in the background, or something.”

“Oh my god, look at Felix’s face. He’s looking at it. What the hell is it?!”

“Looks kinda like a little pink Felix?”

Always and forever with the Dev-damned pink. Not to dig on pink, but it’s so obviously salmon. What’s the point of being 16-bit if the colorblind gamers only see in 8?

I kept moving. The scene felt too familiar, you know. They kept up their insistent twittering ‘til I emerged on the other side of the building. I heard Fix-it hopping around in the foreground again, but I didn’t stop to look. I just carried on to the dump. I’d done the game enough of a favor -- after all, even after I’d left the light of the screen, the gamers were still in a tizzy, jamming in quarters to try to figure out how to get me back.

“I’ve sank a fortune into this game, and I’ve never seen that before.”

“Was it some kind of Easter Egg, you think? How did I unlock it?!”

And so on.

I climbed up the bricks, and I make a point of saying ‘climbed’ here, because the old pile has really grown over the past five years, and I never really thought about it too much until I couldn’t fly anymore. The wrecker’s beloved stump sat flat against the ground, once, but now it’s easily higher than two of me. I set my stuff down a little ways behind it, looked up to see both Fix-it and Wreck-it giving me the side-eyes through gameplay, and pushed together a brick pile big enough to duck behind and gain some semblance of privacy.

I honestly don’t remember how I spent the rest of that day, until closing. I can’t have done anything too interesting. Waited, stewed, debated, panicked, threw up, waited some more. Something like that. 

Waited, waited, waited.

[grimmarray]

Soulmate sanctuary~

Guh, definitely pulled some shit out of my ass with this one, but when I found an absolutely adorable OT3 (check the lovely art I found by @queenofliz4rds out here Thank you for putting an OT3 on my dash that I TOTALLY SHIP NOW)I had to write something cause holy shit, it’s cute. But first...

**There are minor spoilers for Chapter 195**

Without further ado...

Pairing: SeroKamiShin Soulmate AU: Soulmate marks Words: 2943

“It’s gotta be a fluke,” Sero frowned as Kaminari showed him the purple swirl that adorned his shoulder. He looked at the little yellow bolt that sat in the middle of his palm, and sighed, “There is no way,” “No fluke dude, I swear I won’t cheat or anything, your my soulmate, period,” Kaminari told him frantically, he had wanted to share his second mark since they first got together, but he’d been a bit scared to.

Having two marks appear on his tenth birthday had been an absolute shock to him, so he took to hiding the one and only showing people the one he really couldn’t hide, the jet black circle that sat in his left palm. While soulmate marks on hands were common, his had been so plain that it made it hard to place. So he’d resorted to becoming an unabashed flirt to compensate for his unending insecurity over finding a soulmate. The second mark was less ambiguous but he’d never met anyone who really ‘fit’ so he never mentioned it either.

“Nah man,” Sero broke him out of his reverie, “I’m actually not that worried, since I actually have another one too,” “You what?!” Kaminari gasped, “What the heck, show me!” he jumped off his bed excitedly and then paled a bit as Sero started undoing his belt. Sero only laughed “Relax, it’s on my hip, I ain’t stripping the whole way unless you really want me to,” Kaminari only blushed and looked elsewhere. Sero laughed again and took his pants off, and pushing the hem of his boxers up just enough to show Kaminari the patch of purple with two stars cut out of it. “Yours sure is easy to hide,” Kaminari pouted, “And put your pants back on!” he added hastily. “What? Afraid someone is going to barge in and think badly of us,” Sero grinned fiendishly. “YES!” Kaminari cried, “We’ve had this conversation,” “We have,” Sero affirmed, pulling his pants back on, “I’m teasing you because it’s fun and you turn such a pretty pink when your embarrassed,” “And people think I’M the tease in this relationship,” Kaminari through his hands up, though Sero caught one of them and kissed it before twining their fingers together. “I think we may not need to worry too much about cheating,” Sero smiled, “Though that all depends on how our other soulmate thinks of this,” “You think both our marks belong to the same person?” Kaminari leaned into Sero. “I do,” Sero nodded, “call it a hunch,”

“I know you said you weren’t interested in making friends, but I like you, dude,” Kaminari nodded at Shinsou as their team readied to take on the class-B team again. Through a few risky moves and some creative thinking, they managed to pull ahead and win the challenge.

“Are you okay?” Shinsou glanced back at Kaminari as they headed back to the viewing platform and get their results. “Whe- ‘m fine, just a bit fried,” He shook his head a bit, trying hard to make the words come out instead of the weird exaggerated laughing sounds he devolved into usually. Shinsou only looked half convinced, but left it alone.

 At the end of the day everyone was exhausted, and made their way together to the change rooms talking about the battles of the day. Kaminari patted Sero on the back and pointed out a rather slogging Shinsou. “Hey! That last fight was awesome!” Kaminari made his way over and slung and arm over Shinsou’s shoulders earning an annoyed groan. “To think they’d pit you up against Midoriya again,” Sero added, moving in on the other side of him. “It was random chance,” Shinsou sighed, “and in the end it was as much of a surprise as the last time we fought,” “You sure held your own though,” Kaminari smiled brightly, “I can’t wait for you to train with us for real,” “Whose to say I’ll end up in your class,” Shinsou diverted. “Well duh, Aizawa is your mentor right, so it only makes sense you’d get into class 1-A,” Kaminari reasoned, “Anyway, I’m ready for a nap, how bout you guys?” “We have class after this,” Sero reminded him. “Yeah, we have history,” Kaminari shrugged, “It’s so boring, and it’s not like it’s that important right?” Shinsou and Sero traded a look before they reached the locker room.

Kaminari’s eyes didn’t mean to wander, but having a new person to look at made him curious. He always loved admiring others, people were so different in such neat ways, like the way Kirishima was broad, next to Bakugou who was arguably just as strong, but so much leaner. Like the way Sero’s height only did justice to his physique, though Kaminari bet he’d been even more lanky when he first hit his growth spurt. Shinsou was toned, there was no doubt about that, his side training had seen to that, but he definitely wasn’t as muscular as the other guys. Kaminari stared a little longer until Shinsou turned slightly to put something in his bag and that’s when he saw it.

A yellow shape, right where Kaminari knew his own odd soul-mark lay. He gasped and just about tripped over himself to go look at it. At the last second a hand shot out and grabbed him. It was Sero, who had cleary seen what he’d seen. He mouthed ‘not now before pushing Kaminari back to his locker.

 “Why did you stop me?” Kaminari asked later after their classes had ended. Sero frowned, thinking carefully before answering, “I didn’t want to scare him away,” “And?” Kaminari frowned, knowing Sero wasn’t just thinking about his boisterous personality. “It’s a little harder to see if he has a mark that matches mine,” Kaminari gaped, “I’m such a selfish idiot,” he groaned and threw his arms around his boyfriend, “I told you I wouldn’t cheat, how do you think we should figure things out?” “Well we could just ASK?” Sero pointed out. “Oh yeah, that will go over well, ‘hey Shinsou, do you have a mark on your hip and if so can we see it?’” Kaminari waved an arm dramatically before planting it on his own hip. Sero rolled his eyes, “Well you already know he has one on his shoulder, so we could just start with if he has two,” “Or that, that is actually smart,” Kaminari grumbled, “Yup, looks like I’m always gonna be the idiot boyfriend,” “You’ll always be the pretty boyfriend,” Sero smiled gently, brushing Kaminari’s hair away from his face, planting a kiss on his forehead, “And that won’t change no matter who joins us,” “I dunno, Shinsou is kinda pretty,” Kaminari smirked. “Oookay, and what does that make me?” Sero faked a frown. “Handsome,” Kaminari said without missing a beat, “You’re handsome, definitely,”

 Shinsou made it very hard to talk to him, always ducking out quickly at the end of training and generally avoiding conversation while he was around, sticking by his whole ‘not making friends’ promise. Kaminari slowly got more and more impatient, sulking every time he couldn’t catch him after training when he was around. It got to the point where he began sneaking around during training and trying to zap the other guy just long enough to grab him and ask. Sero on the other hand was much more patient, which paid off in the end as Aizawa talked about helping Shinsou practice his mobility, “Yo sensei, let me try, my tape is pretty similar to that capture scarf,” “In some ways,” Aizawa considered it, “You do excel in this particular area, so I’ll allow it this time,” “Thank you for your offer, I think I can learn a lot from you,” Shinsou nodded thoughtfully, then once Aizawa had walked away to direct other students he added, “And maybe you can tell me why your boyfriend has been following me around?” “Ah, so you have noticed, not that he’s particularly subtle about it,” Sero shrugged, “He’s pretty interested in getting to know you,” “Is that all?” Shinsou narrowed his eyes. “Yes actually, now come on and lets see what you’ve got,” Sero nodded striding off towards the industrial area of the grounds, “We’re gonna have a little race, nothing too long, just a little kick off so I can see how you measure up,” “That seems like a rather inefficient way to test me if you can’t watch what I’m doing,” Shinsou raised a questioning eyebrow Sero only smiled, “I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that, now on three, try to get to the top of that water tower as fast as you can, Three!” he shouted and leaped off, hearing a shout of protest behind him.

“Mhmm, That was impressive, but you have a lot to polish there,” Sero shook his head as Shinsou glared at him from where he stood. “I couldn’t help but notice how you avoided me the whole time,” Shinsou grumbled. “Couldn’t have you copying me outright,” Sero shrugged, “Besides, where is the fun in that?” “I don’t see the point,” “The point is I see how you function independently, when your not vying for holds with another hero,” Sero pointed out, “You really don’t know where to latch onto, do you?” Shinsou kept the glare up for a few more seconds before relaxing, “Enlighten me,”

The after noon was spent showing Shinsou good places to grab for, better places and the worst places. Sero seemed to amuse himself by watching Shinsou fall on his ass before pointing out the latter. “Okay, I think you’ve about got that,” Sero nodded after Shinsou navigated one of the harder patches of the course, “Can I ask you something?” “About?” Shinsou glanced over. “You,” Sero folded his arms, “Do you have soul-marks?” “I…wait, marks, as in plural,” Shinsou fished through the words, “Regardless, isn’t that a little personal?” “It is, which is why I chose to ask where no one is likely to stumble upon us,” Sero waved his arm around at the relatively inaccessible rooftop he’d led them to, “And yes, I did pluralize, I in fact have two,” The admission seemed to surprise Shinsou, even if he seemed to try hiding his reaction, which told Sero that perhaps he was onto something. “It’s incredibly unlikely to have two,” he deflected. “Supposedly, but surprisingly, both Kaminari and I are both the same,” “I suppose they all match?” Shinsou seemed to close up. “Nope, only one pair of them match,” he held up his left hand to show Shinsou, “I have another, but it’s in a rather inconvenient location, so I can’t really show you,” Shinsous’ eyes made a definite flick towards his hip and he was suddenly looking as if he could jump off the rooftop at a moments notice, so Sero decided to wrap up the conversation. “Either way, something to think about I suppose,” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, “Want to head back, show Aizawa your new moves?” Shinsou only had to nod before Sero took off, letting Shinsou follow him more closely this time.

 While Kaminari was disappointed in the uncertain outcome, he took Sero’s musings happily, ceasing his not so stealthy stalking during training.

 “It’s been months,” Kaminari whined. “Believe me, I know,” Sero grumbled, “He only just got into the Hero course, so he’ll finally be around more often,” “So? All that does is make it harder for him to avoid us,” Kaminari groaned dramatically. “As far as I understand he wasn’t actually avoiding you, he’s been busy trying to play catch up, the general studies course lacks a lot of what the hero course offers apparently.” Sero rationalized. “I don’t carrrrre!” Kaminari whined, “I want to talk to him…”

A knocking came from the door and both boys looked towards the door, “Come in?” Sero called out wondering who would actually knock on his door instead of barging in like usual. The door opened slowly and a disheveled head poked in, “Thanks for making me look like an idiot, knocking at an empty room,” Shinsou admonished before stepping inside and shutting the door, “I do have two,” “I guessed that months ago,” Sero rolled his eyes, “Go on, I won’t steal your thunder,” “Is he always this sarcastic?” Shinsou asked Kaminari. “You get used to it,” Kaminari shrugged, “So you were saying, I’m an idiot, so feel free to spell it out,” “What am I getting myself into,” Shinsou muttered, “I have two, and from what I’ve gathered so do you,” “We do,” Kaminari nodded, while Sero kept his mouth shut and just grinned. “They don’t match, at least they both don’t match between just you two,” Shinsou pointed between the two of them, and frowned before rounding on Sero, “How are you so sure both of mine match both of yours?” “Speculation mostly,” Sero confirmed. “Wow,” Shinsou deflated. “uh Uh,” Kaminari interrupted, “I know your matches mine cause I’ve seen it!” Shinsou blinked and looked at his hip before shaking his head and touching his shoulder, “Right,” “That just leaves,” Sero didn’t finish, letting his eyes make his point. “This is unbelievable,” Shinsou groaned, “I don’t have the energy for this,” “I’ll stop,” Sero relented. Kaminari decided it was time for him to wiggle out of his shirt and energetically show Shinsou. It took a whole minute of him staring before he approached and lay his hand over it, “Okay…”his tone was thoughtful and he let his hand fall, “You might as well look at my second one,” Shinsou immediately began shucking off his pants, while Kaminari became a blushing mess. “What’s with him?” Shinsou looked to Sero. “He’s way too gay to be as shy as he is,” Sero made an exaggerated shrug before kicking off his own pants. “Shy is not the word I’d use,” Shinsou showed his mark, a black arrow with a jagged end, “At first I thought it was a broken arrow, but now I kinda see it,” “I’m way better than a broken arrow,” Sero grinned and bared his own, “What do you think, wanna touch it too?” “I barely know you,” Shinsou snorted. “Fair, but what’s a little touch between soulmates?” Sero winked. A slight blush crossed Shinsou’s face before he turned away to put his pants back on and Sero just laughed. Kaminari reappeared and latched onto Shinsou’s arm. “How does it feel, having two soulmates?” he leaned into Shinsou, batting his eyes. “Right now?” Shinsou sighed heavily, “It’s a bit much,” “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Sero said seriously, “You don’t even have to be our boyfriend or anything, just spend some time with us,” “What he said, which is pretty much been our whole relationship so far,” Kaminari loosed one of his hands to grab Sero’s, “Please think about it?” “I’ll do that,” Shinsou said softly before pulling away just so their hands were linked, “I’m not far, I’ve officially moved into the empty fourth floor room,” Kaminari and Sero shared a look, one that seemed sympathetic at best. When he asked why, they just shook their heads and wished him a good night.

 “They are so loud,” Shinsou grumbled, “I swear I’m gonna brainwash them both and lock them in an empty room,” “Yes because you are much quieter,” Sero smirked. Shinsou rolled his eyes. Kaminari who was stretched over both of them just snickered, “It’s not a competition guys, besides if I had to choose between Kiri and Blasty and you guys, you guys are much more fun to watch and listen to,” “You’re a rather biased judge, shouldn’t we bring in someone more impartial, like Yaomomo and Jirou?” Sero suggested. “I’d rather not watch you guy’s sloppy makeout sessions!” Jirou called from the other end of the room. “Then why are you listening in on such a conversation,” Sero waggled his eyebrows in her direction. She retaliated by sticking out her tongue and turning back to the homework the girls had spread out on one of the common room tables. “Shouldn’t we be studying too?” Sero mused. “Denki is an idiot and I’m already finished,” Shinsou pointed out, “And if I know you as well as I think I do, you’ve made a half-assed attempt,” “Are you sure your quirk is brainwashing and not mind reading?” Sero laughed. “I dunno, what do you think?” he asked Kaminari who began answering only for his expression to go slack. Shinsou told him to do a handstand and hold it and shrugged, “Yup, pretty sure that’s brainwashing,” he nodded before Kaminari’s natural ability began to fail and he fell to the floor, breaking out of it. “Why am I the only one you ever brainwash?” he pouted. “Because you make it so easy,” Shinsou snorted, drawing a laugh from Sero as well. Kaminari huffed and reseated himself across both of their laps. He shifted a bit before curling his feet around Sero and linking his arms around Shinsou’s neck. “I trust you,” he said quietly to Shinsou.

Trust had been the biggest hurdle, not necessarily gaining on another’s trust, but reassuring Shinsou that the both of them did trust him, so it almost became a little mantra between them, something they could say when all other words failed them because it meant a whole lot more to them. By third year they were inseparable, navigating their way through internships and hero training together, which of course landed them at a smaller agency, but none of them could find it in them to care. They were together. Linked by their soul-marks, linked by their unwavering trust.

<-Previous | FIRST | 3/? |Next->

[thegame-r-boy]

We wish you a very Makkon (2019)! (3x times) And a happy 2020!

There are some conventions, that you just love. Or hate. Or both. And Makkon is one of those last. But nevertheless, this year, it is the only convention where I didn’t spend a dime on anything. At best, I profited on cash! With this convention, I had just good, fond memories of it. It started out in 2017, when I wrote the organizers an e-mail about how I would like to share my passion for gaming and Nintendo related consoles with other. So I gave them a supplication that I would bring with me my Switch console. And they said “sure, why not”. I also got to meet my GF @aquamoon33 on that event the same year. In 2018, we had a bigger tournament, in the newly arrived game Super Smash Bros. Ultimate (SSBU). We had a bigger screen, many attendee came around, and there was quite much fun.

Last year’s stand But this year, there were some (technical) problems. Let’s start from the beginning. I woke up at 7.30 a.m. and went to the capitol at 8.20 a.m, so I came there at about 9.20 a.m. For this year's offer, I gave the crowd Ring Fit Adventure (RFA) to use, then we had a SSBU for 16 and a BlazBluE: Central Fiction (BBCF) tournament for 8 people. But as soon as I got into the room, problems arose. The TV I got was really huge and the organizers also put my stand in the far left corner, in the gaming floor, which is much better than all those years before, when I was at the centre of (attention?) a hallway. It got quite crowded over time. And I also got two tables this year for my stand.

Where my stand was this year.

And how it looked like, together with my girlfriend.

But the TV was also the main problem - we just couldn’t fit the plastic legs on it. So we used duck tape to stabilize it. There was also a problem with the remote control, because at some point, nobody was playing and the TV went in standby mode by itself. It just shut itself off. And don’t get me started with the finals! Those were a huge problem, because we did not have an HDMI output, which was not working at all, so we used two VGA’s. The picture on the projector was crystal clean - but there was no sound at all... Thought in retrospect, it was better to have no sound, because of the unfamiliar circumstances, it would be too funny - but more on that, later. So those were the bad things - now to the good things. As I said, this convention in the most “comfortable” for me, because I’m part of it since 2017. Me and my girlfriend @aquamoon33 managed to put RFA up and on display. I managed to sell also two Game Boy copies and half a Switch game.

Working out on a Ring Fit Adventure!

And ... oh ... my ... god! I got an original Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) from a random guy (but the guy isn’t from) the year 1990! I was soo surprised by that console! One that is almost (or even more!) as old as I am! And best of all - I got a Super Mario Bros. 3 game!!! And it didn’t cost my anything! Wow, that is something that I’ll sure to make a Tumblr post one day, in the near future.

All of them things - even with the box - are now mine!!!

And I got an original Super Mario Bros. 3 game copy as well! 

I went between 1.30 p.m. and 2.00 p.m to lunch and the food there was quite tasty. So let’s talk a bit about the SSBU tournament. At first, I had planned to have an 16 players tournament in this game. Turns out that it’s quite popular in my country. In less than 50 minutes, all free spaces were signed up! That was just crazy! And because of that, my colleague, who granted me access his Gamecube (GC) controllers, could not sign up. Because I wanted those GC controllers, I made a deal - we extended this tournament to a whooping 24 attendances, where in the last round, we played a “free4all match”, from which the winner gets a 2nd chance to play with the finalists. And it went quite for a long time... A whooping 2 hours and 30 minutes marathon! Some battles were really fierce, and the crowd gave some gasps for some unique finishing moves. So finally, just 30 minutes before 5 p.m. (our second tournament was BBCF) we got our finalists.

Sooo many people gathered around!

The crowd was playing.

The BBCF tournament went quite well. We just managed to get 8 people attending this event, that my girlfriend had over. Though the most common technique was to just “button mash”, you still had to have some really good reflexes in that game. And also two girls attended it, which is quite cool! Just like for the SSBU tournament. So after about a jolly 1 hour of playtime, we got our finalists. And the best part: after we cleaned and polished everything up, a young guy came to me and said if I would be interested in having such an event on their convention. For real a payment! And I said yes, I would be VERY interested in such an event! Wohoo, finally, somebody will pay me for organizing such a tournament! Cool! Then, at 6.45 p.m., I had to go to the main lecture room, where the finals were held at 7.00 p.m.

The BBCF Tournament went not that long on.

As said before, because the HDMI cables didn’t work at all, we only could look at the picture, while two finalists were battling against each other. The first battle we had between a boy named Žan and a girl named Lara. The match was nothing special. Still, Žan won 1st place. Congrats, mate!  Though the second final was a bit on the funny side. It was really ironical, that the final two attendees in SSBU had the same name (Robert) AND the SAME CHARACTER (Terry)! And if this wasn’t funny enough, then the fact that the second round they played in, they played in the stage, where the music is the song from Butter Bridge from Super Mario World! Everbody would have laughed at this situation! Because of the banjoo in the music and those muscular guys fighting with each other, everybody would have though that there were two rednecks fighting against each other! See for yourself! :D 

undefined

After Robert S. last year’s champion defeated Robert P., we had at 7.45 p.m the every year’s award on the convention. Overall, this was the best Slovenian convention of the year! A true marvel of dedication, helping and kindness. If it weren’t for the technical difficulties, I would give it an outstanding 10! But because of it, I give it a solid 9.5/10. The sheer amount of people, coming together, talking about their favourite animes/games/books, no matter how old they are - that is the thing that a convention really needs. And Makkon has this thing! Good job & see you next year! ;)  9.5/10 The Good side: - Lots of parking spaces + big TV. - Many stands (from gaming to manga’s). - Really outgoing, kind and nice people. - A big Nintendo (Gaming) community. - Great food. - Everything went as planned. - No big time delays.  The Bad side: - Some major and minor technical difficulties.

[bourbonboredom]

Silver Lining Chapter 13

If you’re ever gonna find a silver lining, it’s gotta be a cloudy day

A ClydexReader fanfic

Word Count: 2,848

Warnings: talk of domestic abuse

Silver Lining Masterlist

Tag List: @oh-adam  @kyloren-supreme-ben   @xis23@elsablackswift   @ladygrey03 @grey-reylo-solo  @givemelifeorgiveme  @attorneyl @ayatimascd @redhairedfeistynerd @kyloxfem

There seemed to be no end in sight for the Unlucky Logans. The agent would show up week after week, starting a tab that she never closed out at the end of the night. 

“I’ll be back, no need to close it,” She’d wink at Clyde. 

The tab only grew faster as she offered drinks to her favorite one-armed bartender. He'd accept some days, when he was feeling strong enough to entertain her, but would reject it most of the time.

Grey rocking quickly became the objective. Any prompt she offered, any bait she put down, Clyde played dumb. He acted as thought he knew nothing of what she was saying, keeping any answers neutral, offering her nothing in return.

He'd let his girl take over some days, when he didn't have the energy to fend off the agent. He felt bad afterward, it felt like he was putting her up for trial, but she always assured him she could hold her own. 

‘Think of it as tag-teaming,’ She told him one night. ‘When you need a break, I’m right here to tap in,”

Nights became restless, alternating between falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and staying up until dawn worrying about the situation. They re-hid the money together, stashing it in the most discreet places they could find around her trailer. He felt guilty about that too. It was her house if it all went down. As the weeks turned into months, the "investigation" began to wear on the couple more and more.

"Why couldn't she be hangin' around the salon? Or botherin' Jimmy at his job? Why’s it gotta be my bar?" He'd grit out, hand clenching the arm of the sofa. He was sick of being the target, of this falling primarily on him.

"Because she thinks she's got you. But she doesn't. You’re gonna get though this. We're gonna get through this," She responded calmly, peppering his face with kisses.

“I sure hope so,” His face was drawn into a tight frown despite her kisses.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and know that everything was going to be alright, but that was getting harder and harder to imagine. He’d open the bar every night, hoping that the agent wouldn’t walk in. That she’d get bored of this game and he could be free again. Be free with her again. But the door would open and the agent would sit in her usual seat, smiling up at him like a shark.

It was an especially cold night outside. The frost had crept up the front window, making the light from the Coors sign appear hazy from the outside. Clyde kept the bar as warm as he could for his patrons, but it was still a little chilly. The heater wasn’t what it used to be and with the heist money stashed away, he had no way of paying to fix it. His usual patrons didn’t mind much, they’d warm up with beer and whiskey anyways. His girl would joke that it was Duck Tape’s attempt at icing the agent out.

‘The bar knows. It’s hoping she’ll get cold and go home,’ She laughed as she threw on a sweater the day after the plumber gave them the diagnosis. 

She was wearing one of his favorites today, a baby blue sweater that fit her just right. The agent was having trouble finding clothes that shielded her from the climate. She’d always opt for low-cut shirts, no matter the heater’s condition. 

Today was no exception for the agent. She shimmied out of her coat to reveal a black sleeveless top that was cut to show off her cleavage. He’d avoided looking at it for most of the night as he made polite conversation with the woman who was trying to ruin his life. Their chat slowly turned for the worse as they spoke.

“So I heard some gossip today,” She started slowly. She’d been shooting the breeze with him at the bar for about an hour, just small talk. He now realized she was probably trying to get him to loosen up for whatever she was about to say.

“Yeah, what about?” Clyde asked, cautious about what she might say.

“I heard a guy stopped over at the diner before leaving town a few weeks back. One of the waitresses said he walked in with a huge wad of cash in his hand, looking like he'd seen a ghost,”

The woman was watching him closely for a reaction. He could see his girlfriend stop stacking glasses at the counter out of the corner of his eye.

"He told her he was trying to visit his fiancée, and a guy with a metal arm paid him off to never come back," 

He did his best to look interested and not completely terrified.

"The waitress didn't see how much he had, but it sounded like way more than pocket change,"

"That's quite the story, this town loves to gossip,” He said as best he could. His heart was pounding in his ears, making it hard to hear himself speak. His mouth was becoming dryer by the minute.

"They sure do, and there aren't too many men with metal arms around here," She nodded toward his left hand.

"That's true," He said, choosing his words carefully. His dinner threatened to make a second appearance due to his stomach doing flips.

"But owning a bar in this county isn't quite that lucrative I'd imagine,"

"That's quite the assumption, what are you getting at?" His girl’s voice came from beside him before he could say another word. 

She was tapping in. She  stared the woman down, holding Clyde’s hand behind the bar where she couldn’t see.

"I'm just asking—" The agent tried to start.

"I don't think you're asking anything ma'am, it sounds like you're implying something," His girl’s voice was even and calm as she spoke. 

"I'm just asking why someone in this town would pay off someone's fiancée to go away, seems shady to me,” The agent’s eyebrows furrowed, her voice dropping to a dangerous tone.

"I'm the fiancée ma’am, that man was my ex. I broke up with him and he came back around when I didn't want him to,” She began, her tone matching the agent’s.

 “Clyde over here was helping me to make sure he didn't hurt me. He didn't pay him to go away, it wasn't even his money. It was mine from selling my wedding ring in order to pay for the medical bills my ex thought I owed him. Not that it’s any of your business,”

“I—” The agent’s face faltered. Any attempt to say something was cut off by her voice growing louder as she continued with her story. Heads were starting to turn around the bar to try to get in on the gossip.

"He thought I owed him medical bills because he beat me severely enough that it landed me in the ICU. I ran away from him and gave up everything I knew to wind up in this town, where he stalked me to and tried to force me back with him. This saint of a man protected me, if it weren’t for him I might be dead,” Her voice broke with that last sentence, making Clyde’s chest ache. His hand squeezed hers behind the bar. “I gave my ex the money he thought I owed him and made it crystal clear I was never going back to his abusive ass,"

"I didn't realize—" The agent stuttered, that was clearly not the answer she was looking for.

"I don't know what you were implying, but Clyde’s been nothing but kind to me since I got here and I'd appreciate you not spreading the gossip that my jealous ex started about him,"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any harm,"

"I'm sure you didn't," She said is a controlled tone. With her teeth gritted and her eyes threatening to spill tears, she squeezed Clyde’s hand and left the bar, walking to the back room. As soon as she was out of sight, Clyde turned back to the slightly-stunned woman in front of him.

"She's sensitive about the subject. I didn't want to bring anything up about it when you mentioned it," He deadpanned.

The agent was having a hard time making eye contact. She thought she finally had something, and it fell apart almost immediately.

"I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate anything. I wasn’t trying to—“

"Gossip gets the best of all of us from time to time," Clyde said in a clipped tone. "If you don't mind, I think I'm gonna close up for the night. I think we’ve all had a long day,”

"Yes, I understand," She avoided his gaze as she paid her tab and left the bar. He watched as she turned on her car and drove out of the parking lot and into the inky black night.

He let the remaining patrons know he was closing up for the night, and they trickled out, paying their tabs and saying their goodbyes. A few stopped to ask if she was okay, if what she’d said was true. Clyde worried his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure of whether or not he should say anything. He settled on telling them it wasn’t for him to say. He was finishing stacking the glasses when she came back out.

"She's gone," He told her as she walked behind the bar. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," She whispered.

Her voice was a little hoarse as she threw her arms around his body and pulled him into a hug. She buried her face into his chest, letting out a sniffle. Her fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, trying to hold him as close as possible.

"I'm sorry that happened darlin’,” He murmured, wrapping his arms around her. “I didn’t expect her to ever bring that up,”

"It's okay, I can't stop people from gossiping," She looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest. Her eyes looked a little pink, Clyde couldn't bear the thought of her crying over this.

"If it helps, I think you might've squashed her one lead. She left in quite the hurry after you straightened her out,"

"I figured telling her the money was mine might shut her up, people tend to clam up when you mention comas and runaway brides,” She tried to joke. 

Clyde gave a small smile in acknowledgement.

“You saved my back there, I didn’t know what I was gonna say. I—I was scared honestly,” 

“You did what you could, you were great sweetheart. I just couldn’t listen to her try to make you seem like a bad person anymore. Especially not for that whole incident. I meant it when I said I might be dead without you,” Her voice began to quiver again. He held her closer.

“I love you. I’d fight him off a million more times if it kept you safe. You mean everything to me,” He whispered. He knew he’d never be able to fully convey how much she meant to him, but he could try.

“I love you too. And I gotta be honest,” She looked back up at him, her tired eyes looking happier already. “You don’t look too good in that prison uniform. So you gotta stay out of prison okay? For me?”

“Anything for you,” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her.

—————

It was about a few weeks later when Clyde had ventured out into the cold January night to pick up a few odds and ends from the store. He insisted his girl stay all warm and cuddled up inside their trailer while he went out to the Grocery Castle on their side of town. She helped him lace up his boots and gave him a kiss on the nose before he slipped on his warmest coat and headed out. 

He couldn’t wait for winter to be over. It felt even longer this year with that agent poking around. It was a good time of year for the bar, with people needing a place to warm up and socialize, but Clyde found himself yearning for spring as the windshield wipers on his car crackled to life after being frozen in place. The light dusting of snow had settled on the road, making it a little harder to find his way down the dimly lit road in the dark. 

The Grocery Castle’s sign glowed against the white powder and the cloudy sky. There weren’t many people out, the only other cars in the lot presumably belonged to the employees waiting to get off their shift. The automatic doors of the store whooshed open and Clyde walked a little heavier, trying to get the snow out from his boots before trekking on. 

The muzak of the store was soft in the background, the buzz of the fluorescent lighting almost as loud. He ignored both as he moved through the aisles, picking up the contents of the wrinkled list he held in his pocket. 

Bread

Milk

Bacon

Sausage (for the biscuits and gravy she wanted to make for dinner tomorrow)

Peanut Butter

He moved with a practiced efficiency, everything was in its usual place around the store. It was only when he got to the checkout line did he notice anything different. 

There was an unusual amount of pink and red decorations around the front of the store. He missed it when he came in but now that he was standing still, he saw it everywhere. The bin full of little stuffed animals holding boxes of chocolate, the cupid cutout that hung by the vent on the ceiling that twirled as warm air pumped out, the seasonal candy display set up over by the bottle return. 

He scoffed at first, he couldn’t believe they’d set this stuff up so early. It was only mid-January, there was no need to break out the hearts so far in advance. Who buys Valentines gifts from the Grocery Castle anyway?

It wasn’t until he saw the tabloid magazines by the checkout counter did things start to connect in his mind. A headline about some famous couple having a tumultuous breakup, complete with a closeup photo of a bruise on one of their arms followed by some sensationalized speculation. 

Valentines Day was coming up.

The holiday that brought her to Boone County, to him. She’d walked into his bar exhausted, covering her bruises with a hoodie and a pound of makeup, drinking his vodka with the last of her cash to help heal where her tooth had been knocked out. His fist balled up around the cart’s handle at the thought. 

Her physical wounds had healed. She knew she was safe with him, they had a home together, they owned a business together. A lot had changed for both of them in a year. But he wondered where her mind would be on February 14th. She hadn’t mentioned it to him yet. Granted, they’d both been overwhelmed with an FBI agent until recent. Things were just starting to get back to normal, they could finally begin to unwind.

But was she going to be able to unwind with this day coming up? Was it something he should bring up? He felt a bubble of uncertainty rise in his chest as he dropped his items on the conveyer belt for the clerk to scan. He was a gangly high school kid, probably saving up for college. He didn’t pay too much attention to Clyde as he paid and collected his bags with his metal arm. 

He walked back outside, the cold air hitting his face as soon as the automatic doors opened. It filled his lungs and made them ache just a little. He dropped his bags in the trunk and circled to the driver’s side. He sat in his car with the engine on for a moment, realizing he still hadn’t made a decision about what to do. 

He didn’t want to bring up anything that might upset her. Maybe she hadn’t thought of it at all and he was just over thinking it. Maybe she had been thinking of this day for months and just never said anything. She’d have to be reminded at some point, just going about her day. Even the damn grocery store had decorations up. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, keeping it from hanging in his face. He didn’t know what to do, to be honest. She meant the world to him, and he never wanted her to feel alone and scared again. 

As he shifted gears and stepped on the gas to travel back down the snowy road, he tentatively made his decision. This was her past and it would be her decision of what to do. He didn’t want to bring up any painful memories by accidentally saying the wrong thing. He would wait for her to say what she needed. 

And he would be right by her side the whole way. Just as she’d done for him.

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

NOTES

Oh hey this is super overdue! I’m trying to wrap this up for y’all, its about damn time! Thanks for being so patient with me, I know its not much. I don’t know if her story would be enough to throw off an FBI agent in real life, but I do know people really don’t like hearing about traumatizing events. I’d think this would be the agent’s last ditch effort, she finally thought she had something she could use, and Clyde’s girlfriend just isn’t having it. 

There should be just one more chapter left, I hope to get it out soon!

[bourbonboredom]

Silver Lining Chapter 10

If you’re ever gonna find a silver lining, it’s gotta be a cloudy day

A ClydexReader fanfic

Word Count: 3,567

Warnings: domestic violence, guns, blood, this chapter is a tough one huge trigger warning for the listed topics

***This chapter took me a lot longer than usual to write because its a very difficult topic to address but it felt necessary to the storyline so I kept it in (I was going to remove it initially). Please pay close attention to the tag list and if there is anything else you would liked tagged please let me know!

Silver Lining Masterlist

Tag List: @oh-adam  @kyloren-supreme-ben  @xis23 @elsablackswift   @ladygrey03 @grey-reylo-solo  @givemelifeorgiveme  @attorneyl @ayatimascd @redhairedfeistynerd

It was Jimmy who originally brought up the idea of splitting the money up. Not just between them, but between different locations. Having a duffle bag full of bills shoved in the back of your sister’s closet was probably not the thing to do after pulling off a heist. Jimmy had taken his money to his new home and divided it up in a few places he refused to mention, slowly depositing a little with his paycheck every week. Mellie kept most of it close to home, but found some hiding places around the house to keep it. Clyde was slowly bringing wads of cash to Duck Tape that were destined to be worked into the books. He would stash a few bill stacks in his coat, making sure to keep them hidden from his girlfriend. He would hide his money in the storage room in a place only he could reach. She still didn't know a thing about the heist, which was for the best.

He was driving to her place to pick her up for work that night. It was just easier for them to have the same ride, especially seeing that he wound up at her place most nights anyway. He had finally gotten his license back, which went well considering he had driven in to a convenience store just 7 months ago. But having an arm that he could control helped his case, so here he was back behind the wheel.

He turned down her street, his old street, and noticed there was an extra car in her driveway. Which was strange, considering she didn’t have people over very often. He parked on the road and got out to go to her front door.

He noticed the license plates of the mystery car as he passed it, they were from the same state her car’s plates were from. Maybe she had reconnected with family? An old friend? She had seemed a little homesick recently. He was about to knock of the door when he heard voices inside her house. He noticed she had her windows open, making it easier for him to hear.

“You have to come back, I miss you, I know you miss me,” a male voice pleaded

“I don’t miss you. I’m happy here, I’m not coming back,”

Clyde’s heart skipped a beat. His breath hitched at the sound of the mysterious male voice. 

“Sweetheart, you have to, we belong together! We have a wedding planned and everything!”

“No we don’t. I ran away on purpose, I didn't want to be found. I think that was a pretty clear message we were over,”

Fuck. Fuck. Her ex-fiancé had found her. How the fuck did he even find her? He went to open her front door, she always left it unlocked for him. The door didn’t budge. The bolts kept him, and anyone else, out.

“I was just emotional, I didn’t mean it. I can buy you another one!” he heard him say, his word thick with annoyance.

“I don’t want another one, I want you to leave and never come back,”

She had a spare key somewhere. She never gave him one personally, but she hid one around her yard. If only he could remember where. He started his frantic search with her mailbox. Empty.

“No can do, I’m not leaving without you. It took me months to track you down, but now here you are. And I can’t lose you again,”

“I didn’t want to be found!”

“Well you didn’t make it easy princess, you basically disappeared. But you turning your phone back on helped. I had to pay off a few people to figure out your location, but its worth to have you back,”

He checked the rocks in her garden. No luck.

“You sent me hundreds of messages about how you wanted to hurt me! You sent me a video of you burning my wedding dress, I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“Come one now, dont be dramatic, I drove all this way to come get you. Remember all the good times?”

Clyde checked her windowsill. Nothing.

“Nothing good you did can ever fix the awful things you did. Leave,”

“I don’t want to have to ask you again, I want to be nice,”

“I have a new life in this town. With people who care about me! I am not going anywhere with you now or ever again,”

They were quiet for a moment, Clyde stopped looking. The silence scared him more than the yelling.

“You’re fucking someone aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Thats why you don’t want to come back. You’re fucking someone!” his voice got louder.

“My life now is none of your business,” she tried to hold an even tone, but Clyde could hear the waiver in her voice. She was scared.

“I fucking knew it! I knew you were going to do this to me you little slut! How many times did I tell you? You are mine. YOU ARE MINE.”

Clyde hears her whimper through the window. It’s too quiet, things are too tense.

“I’ll see you dead before I see anyone else touch you,” the voice came at a deadly low pitch. Clyde’s blood runs cold. Fuck the extra key, he needed to get in the house now.

“If you take one step closer—” he heard her say quietly, trying to maintain what little control she had.

There was a crash followed by a scream and Clyde kicked the lock in before he could even think about what he was doing. The door swung open and he pushed his way inside, looking around wildly for her.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw the scene before him, barely able to breathe. She was there in the kitchen, on the floor with her arm held in front of her face.

 A man stood over her. He was tall, handsome and dressed better than anyone in Boone County. He turned to see who was intruding. As he turned, the engagement band on his left hand became obvious. Along with the gun he was holding.

“Let. Her. Go. Now,” Clyde said, trying to keep an even tone, standing at full height. He was terrified, how could he let this escalate this far?

“Who the fuck is this?” Her ex growled, pointing the gun in her direction. Her body tensed and her eyes grew glassy and wide.

“My ex found me, I—I don’t know—Clyde, please,” She choked out, ignoring him to speak only to her savior. Her eyes were fixed on Clyde as she was frozen in fear.

“I said let her go,” Clyde repeated, focusing on the armed man.

“This your boyfriend? You’re cheating on me with a fucking cyborg? Is this what you’ve been doing out here in bumfuck West Virginia?” He roared.

He turned the gun toward Clyde. It became very apparent by his stance that this man had never fired a gun in his life. Clyde remained tense, but felt more confident he could gain control over his situation. His time in the army taught him how to disarm people. If he could get close enough, he could do this. He could keep her safe.

Before Clyde could react, she was on her feet.

“Don’t you fucking hurt him!” she yelled, wrenching him backward.

Her ex lost his balance for a second. But he was bigger than her. Strong her than her. It didn’t take him long to break from her hold, knocking her back to the ground with his free hand.

Clyde shouted her name, about to run forward, when the weapon was trained back on him. His gaze flicked between the barrel of the gun and the bruise blossoming on her jaw as she lay on the kitchen floor, looking dazed.

“She’s mine,” her ex said, his voice breaking. The gun cocked, letting Clyde know the safety was off and the next few moments could easily be his last. “She belong with me,”

“She doesn’t belong to anyone,” he responded carefully. “She’s a person, not a doll you can throw around,”

“Fuck you!” her ex screamed.

Clyde lunged toward him. A shot rang out through the trailer.

He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. Everyone else stopped too. Dead silence followed, his heart pounding in his ears as he mentally checked over his body. He wasn’t in pain, he didn’t feel anything wrong. But that could just be shock. 

He worked up the courage to look down, fully prepared to see himself covered in blood. Fully prepared to re-live Iraq all over again. His eyes swept over his body. There was no blood, there was no bullet hole. Her ex had missed, had shot somewhere out the door. He could exhale.

He looked up toward the man in front of him, his fear was replaced with unbridled anger. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he crossed the room in three large strides. Her ex was frozen in place, seemingly shocked by the gunshot he had fired. Clyde wrenched the gun from his hand, removing the bullets with a practiced hand and throwing the weapon across the room.

His attention turned back to her ex. He wrapped a hand around his throat, picking him off the ground unceremoniously. He heard him start to wheeze, he felt hands scrambling to loosen his grip around his windpipe. He marched him out the front door, throwing him on to the grass of her front yard. There were no neighbors in sight, the nearest trailer being the newly-vacant one he and Jimmy had shared. No witnesses. No one to stop him or hold him back.

Clyde’s knees pinned her ex’s arms down. He straddled his chest, his large figure daring the man to try to fight him. He was on auto-pilot, his conscience taking the back seat to his rage. He felt his fist connect with the man’s jaw. The same place the man had hit her a few moments ago. He hit him again. And again. He noticed blood on his knuckles. It didn’t stop him. Her ex deserved it. He deserved to feel every second of pain that he’d inflicted on her.  The only thing that broke him out of his state was the sound of her voice.

“Clyde stop! Stop! You’re scaring me!” she called from behind him. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway, tears running across the blossoming bruise on her jaw. Fear was in her eyes. 

He stopped. 

For her sake. 

He wanted this man to suffer, but when he looked at the damage he had done, he understood her. Her ex-fiancé’s nose was broken, blood streaming out. A black eye was forming and his jaw was going to match it. His lip was busted and he was still wheezing slightly from having his neck held so tightly. 

Clyde looked back at her, seeing her fear switch from her ex to him. He just showed her a part of himself he thought he’d left in the Middle East. He would never hurt her, never lay a hand on her, but how could she know that after seeing this?

He would never do this again, he swore to himself. He would handle things differently, he would show her that he was different. But he was going to make sure this man never came into her life again. He crouched down, leveling his face with the bloody mess in front of him. The whites of her ex’s eyes stood out from the red gushing from his nose.

“She asked me stop so I’m gonna. Even though you don’t deserve that kindness. When I get up, you’re gonna leave here and never come back. You’ve caused her enough trouble. You will stay out of her life,”

“Fuck you,” the man spit up at Clyde, leaving a trail of blood and saliva on his cheek. It took all his strength to not start hitting him again. He wiped it off and grabbed the man’s face with his prosthetic, forcing him to look him in the eye.

“She’s got photos you know. Of what you did to her. And there’s the medical bills. And unless you want to come out of this lookin’ like them photos, you’re gonna get back up, get in your car and never come back here. You won’t talk to anyone about this. If you do, she’ll bring you to court and you’ll rot in prison like you should be doing right now. And if you come back, I’ll be right here with my ‘cyborg’ arm, ready to do this. All. Over. Again,’

He pulled one of the stacks of bills out of his pocket. He let go of her ex’s chin and threw the bills at his face.

“This’ll covers her medical bills, now get,”

Her ex scrambled to his feet and to his car, gripping the cash tight in hand as he groped in his pockets for his car keys. He took one last look at the two of them as he reversed out of the driveway and took off down the street at full speed.

Clyde took a deep breath and turned to go back in her house. She was still standing in the doorway, looking at him wide-eyed and shaking slightly.

“Clyde,” she said quietly. He walked up to her and swooped his into a hug, pressing his forehead to hers. He held her tight, feeling her knees buckle once she had someone to support her.

“I’m so sorry for scarin’ you like that. I promise I’ll never behave like that again. I swear on my mama’s grave I’ll never treat you like he did, sweetheart. You’re so precious to me,”

“I believe you,” she sniffled. He knew she meant it.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently.

“I— I think so. He just walked in my house, I left it unlocked for you. He just walked right in Clyde and locked the door. I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t get to my phone. He started asking me to come home with him. I kept telling him no. He had a gun, Clyde, he could’ve— and then you came in and—” a heaving sob built up in her chest and his arms tightened around her.

“He’s never gonna bother you again, I promise you that. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, that he found you,”

“It’s not your fault,” she sniffled, gripping on to his shirt.

“C’mon, let’s sit down. We’re gonna take the night off, you need to rest,”

She nodded, wiping her tears on her sleeve as he shepherded her to the bedroom. He closed the front door. The locked was busted from him kicking it in, he made a mental note to fix that tonight. He picked up the gun and the bullets off the floor of her living room, putting it off to the side so he could dispose of it later. He had her kick off her shoes, and get under the covers as he went to the kitchen to make her some hot cocoa. It was only the instant stuff, but he knew she drank it when she was upset. He brought it back to her room, where she was laying completely under the blankets. He called her name softly, and she uncovered her face.

Her eyes were red and getting puffy from crying, she still looked like she was in shock. He held out the mug for her and she slowly sat up so she could hold it. He noticed she was shaking slightly, and was having trouble bringing the cup to her mouth without drops splashing out.

“Here,” he said softly, taking the cup and setting it on the nightstand. He sat down on the bed, maneuvering her so she was sitting between his legs. He curled his arms around her and she rested her head on his chest.

“You could have died,” she whimpered, her voice thick.

“He had no idea how to shoot a gun, he couldn’t kill me even if he was right in front of me,” he reassured her.

“I’m so sorry this happened. This is all my fault,”

“None of this is your fault. I’m the one who should be sayin’ sorry, I should have been there earlier,” he murmured.

“It’s not your fault, how would we have known?” she whispered back.

“I don’t know. Are you sure you dont want to call the police? There’s more than enough evidence,”

“I’m sure. I never wanna see him again,” her mouth wavered, eyes starting to water again. “W-what if he comes back? He knows where I live now,”

“He won’t darlin’, I promise. I made sure he knows exactly what’ll happen if he ever sets foot in the state again,”

“You threw money at him, I saw it,”

“I did, it was to cover your medical bills, he wont be able to hold it over you anymore,”

“Clyde!” she pushed away from him so she could look him in the eye. “You shouldn’t have done that!”

“Why not? It’s more than enough to keep him away,”

“I can’t accept that from you, you've done so much already! I have to pay you back!” she tried to get up but he kept her in his arms.

“No, darlin’ you don’t,” he said firmly.

“Those bills were—”

“I know how much they were,” he said simply.

“Where did you get that kind of money? Just a few months ago you were saying you’d have to wait to fix up that crack in the window at the bar and now you’re literally throwing money at people?” she looked incredulously at her boyfriend. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“I saved up is all, like you were doing,”

“I saved up for seven months and got just over half of it,”

“I came into some too,”

“Unlucky Clyde Logan came into some money?” her eye narrowed as her spoke.

“Don’t be lookin’ a gift horse in the mouth darlin’,”

“Clyde!”

“Well what was I supposed to do? He drove halfway across the country to find you, he had a gun pointed at you when I came in! I couldn’t let him hurt you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he’d—” he stopped, finding himself unable to finish his sentence. He pushed the thought of her leaving his life out of his mind. “The money will keep him away, I’m sure of it,” 

He felt himself getting increasingly frustrated. He couldn't tell her where he got the money, Jimmy would kill him.

“Look,” He grabbed her hands, stroking over her thumbs. “I want you to be safe. I dont want anythin’ to happen to you and I’ll do anythin’ to make sure of that. I had a little extra on me, I was takin’ it to the bar to hide away incase I needed it in an emergency and I think your ex coming to your home unannounced counts as an emergency,”

She was quiet, watching his hands over hers. She was still sniffling a little, but had stopped crying. She took a deep breath and looked up at him.

“Thank you. For doing that. What happened was nothing that I planned for and you were helpful during it. I would very much like to pay back what you gave him,”

“I’d rather you spend that money on somethin’ to make the house safer darlin’, a security system? Your own gun maybe?”

“No. No more guns. Oh my god, do you have a gun?”

“I don’t but Jimmy did. It was under his bed. I decided I had enough of that stuff after I came back from Iraq,”

“Alright, I’ll look into a security system if that makes you feel better. And uh—” She cleared her throat. “I know I said I didn’t want you moving in but—”

“If you’re doing this just because of him, I can sleep over more in the next couple of weeks. I know you want your place to yourself,”

“I do— but it’s not just because of him. I like having you here. I want you with me. I could have lost you today a-and I never— I never got to tell—” She looked at him, eyes bloodshot and face pink from crying.

“I love you,” She said quietly.

His heart skipped a beat for a second time that night. He’d been wanting to say those words to her for so many weeks. He knew how he felt, but he didn't want to pressure her by saying anything too soon.

“I know this isn't a great time to say it but it’s how I feel. You are the best thing to ever happen to me and I love you,” she continued, trying to fill the awkward silence left by Clyde being too stunned to speak.

“I love you too,” He finally said back, “I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to say it for a while now,”

“Oh God, me too,” She laughed and wiped the tears off her face. “I didn't want to put pressure on you by saying it too soon,”

“We were thinkin’ the same thing. Thank God you said somethin’, who knows how long that could have gone on for,” he laughed, pulling her close to him.

He kissed her forehead, and then she pulled him into a kiss. He sighed as her lips touched his, loving the way she wrapped her arms around him. He stroked her cheek lovingly as they broke the kiss.

“Let’s just take it easy tonight, do you want me to bring in dinner? I have to get another lock for your door too. Sorry about that, by the way,”

“It’s alright Clyde, really. Do you mind if I come with you? I don’t want to be alone right now,” she said softly, holding his hand.

“As long as you want me, you won’t be alone darlin,”

She smiled as he pulled her up off the bed with him and into a kiss. He was gonna stay by her side for as long as she needed. His heart swelled as he thought of how much he loved her, and how now knew she felt the same. 

They headed out her front door, closing it as best they could behind them, off to face the world, hand in hand.