#i took him in the welding booth

[shiloh-game]

BURN THE LITTLE MAN

BURN

MWHAHHAHAHAHA

[ghostofcarcosa]

Prompt: When ectoplasm is used to power one of the Fenton’s devices, it can borrow ghost zone physics.

“Wow, so how’s this one supposed to work?” Bruce Wayne picked up the small silver device, examining it. It was about the size of a hockey puck, with a handle welded to the top that looked like it had originally belonged to a dresser. The handle was wrapped in simple black electrical tape with a small button on the side.

“Oh! That table of stuff is not for sale,” the red-head walked briskly over, wringing her hands, “those are just some of my brother’s projects, they’re not related to ghost hunting.”

The convention had, up until that point, been boring. Tim had disappeared about an hour ago, meeting up with a couple of friends who were also attending the Scientific, Paranormal, & Occult, Occupational Convention, or “SPOOC.” An attempt at a play on words, Bruce supposed.

Barbara had alerted him that an up-and-coming company, Axiom Laboratories, had announced some pretty cutting edge tech that could be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands. Bruce had attended the demo this morning, only to leave unimpressed. Only one of their four inventions had actually worked, and even then barely did what was advertised.

Aside from waiting for Tim to be done hanging out with his friends, Bruce had surprisingly found several start-ups that were developing some promising technology, as far as ghost-hunting equipment could be considered “promising.” The latest booth he was exploring had been pointed out to him as having “some kind of crazy idea they’ve perfected renewable energy,” which while Bruce was wary of most of the people peddling wares here, peaked his interest. So far, however, it had been a disappointment.

The girl held out her hand for the device and Bruce gave it back. “Do you know what it does?”

The girl gave him a guarded look, and he held up his hands and grinned. “Just curious!”

She glanced around the booth, the only other occupants were a couple dressed like they were late for a shift at the nuclear power plant, gas masks and all. The husband, an absolute mountain of a man, seemed to be knitting while his wife flipped through a paranormal magazine. She turned back to Bruce, sticking out her hand.

“Jazz Fenton; my parents own Fentonworks.”

“Nice to meet you Jazz. I’m Bruce Wayne.”

Her eyes widened, and she blinked owlishly at him. “Oh! Like, Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne?”

He went for a disarming grin. “The one and only, hopefully?”

She let out a laugh that was probably more nervous than it was meant to be, and glanced over at the couple again. “Just to warn you, if my parents spot you, you’ll be stuck her for the rest of the day while my dad rants about ghosts.”

“Noted. So if that’s not a ghost hunting device, what is it?”

Jazz fidgeted with the silver hockey puck, plucking at the edge with her fingernail. A hatch popped open, revealing a small switch. She flicked it and popped the hatch closed.

“It’s a prototype gravity binder. Uses gravitational force to stick itself to the ground. I think.” She held it out over the floor in front of Bruce, and he took a step back. Jazz carefully checked the ground below before hitting the button and dropping it.

It hit the ground at Bruce’s feet and he looked at her, unimpressed. Jazz grinned. “Pick it up.”

Bruce quirked an eyebrow, but bent down to the small device. An audible humming was coming from it, and it almost felt like it was vibrating slightly as Bruce gripped the handle.

“Be careful not to push the button again. That turns it off,” Jazz said.

Bruce reached down and grabbed the black handle.

It didn’t budge.

Bruce frowned, gripping it with both hands and pulling. It was as if the small device had been bonded to the floor. He looked back up at Jazz, who had a wry grin on her face. 

“Now, hit the button.” 

Bruce did so, and the humming immediately stopped, the device powering down. He hesitantly picked it up from the floor, unable to stop the surprise that bloomed across his face as it now only weighed a few ounces, like before. The floor where it had fallen was undamaged and unmarked.

Bruce handed the device back to Jazz, “Alright, color me impressed. How does it work? I’m pretty sure this thing breaks several laws of physics.” 

Jazz simply shrugged, placing it back on the side table with several other devices that Bruce couldn’t begin to guess the purpose of. “My brother is more into the engineering and sciencey part of the family business. You’ll have to ask him once he gets back. That is, if he didn’t ditch me to explore the city.” The last part was grumbled under her breath.

Bruce looked back at the device. Had Bruce seen some crazy stuff in his time in the Justice League? Absolutely. He had three different friends who used magic on a daily basis. But no other League independent company had anything close to this kind of tech, let alone a family business that specialized in ghost hunting, of all things.

“I think I’d like to meet your brother. I’m going to be honest, this is unbelievably impressive. Has he ever thought about applying for the engineering and development internship at Wayne Enterprises?”

A contemplative look passed over Jazz’s face. “Honestly, Mr. Wayne? My brother Danny is smart, and a talented inventor. But I’m not sure that kind of thing would be his style. I’ve been pushing him to start thinking about college now that he’s graduating soon, but he seems pretty convinced he’s going to be stuck in Amity Park working for my parents for the rest of his life. Not that he doesn’t care about the family business, but...” She trailed off, glancing back over at her parents. Some poor soul had wandered a little too close to the front of the booth, and Bruce could hear the couple yapping non-stop about ghosts. “He does need to spend some time away from it.”

“What are you proposing?”

Jazz drummed her fingers against the table. “I’m in my second year at Gotham U. Danny’s going to be eighteen next year, but refuses to apply to any colleges because of his grades. He... well, let’s just say there were some extenuating circumstances that caused it.” She shook her head, “He’ll probably end up at community college living at home, at least if I can convince him to stay in school. He won’t be able to get into GU with his grades, but if you’re really interested in his work...”

“You think I could get him an acceptance letter?”

“God no!” she blanched, “But I could probably get him to apply with a letter of recommendation from the owner of Wayne Enterprises. He’s smart, and a quick learner for sure, but after... the stuff in high school, he’s convinced himself his life is already over.”

“Hmm,” He’d have to do a little research on the brother, make sure her ‘extenuating circumstances’ checked out, but Bruce started to wonder if this was his lucky day. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll be back at the convention tomorrow, and I’ll drop by the booth around 10am. If your brother can give me a better demo than any other scientist here, I’ll write the letter.” He smiled, handing her one of his business cards, “and I promise that will be a low bar to pass.”

“Thank you, thank you so much Mr. Wayne!” Jazz grinned, taking the card and shaking his hand. “Danny will be here.”

...

“Hey Bruce!” Tim finally caught up with him outside the convention center. “So, what did you think of ‘SPOOC’? Bust any ghosts?”

Bruce smiled at him, shaking his head, “No, but I think I just found an intern for Lucius Fox.”

[meganwritesfanfics]

Buried Nightmares (Jack Hodgins x Reader) Part 2

Ever since he and Dr. Brennen had been kidnapped by the Gravedigger, Jack Hodgins had nightmares, nightmares about being buried alive again, nightmares about suffocating, nightmares about being utterly alone. Never in those nightmares did he imagine the love of his life being in danger. The Gravedigger is about to change that. When the reader is kidnapped, the team at the Jeffersonian must race against the clock to save her, before she become another one of the Gravedigger’s victims.

Part 2 of ? 

Part 1 

It had taken everyone about 30 minutes to regroup, and then they kicked into high gear, working away on what little they had to go on. They were trying to go off what they had from when Brennen and Hodgins had been taken. 

Hodgins however was pacing frantically around the room. 

“I’m going to give him the money,” He quickly said as he took out his cell phone ready to call his bank. 

“No, hey, no.” Booth said as he grabbed the phone out of Hodgins hands. “You don’t want to do that.” 

“Yes I do! If I give him the money, he will tell me where Y/N is.” Hodgins snapped. 

“Hodgins, you don’t know that? What if you give the Gravedigger the money and he doesn’t tell us where Y/N or worse what if he…” 

“Booth, I know that you are just trying to help, but we have nothing, we know nothing. The only chance we have of finding her is the hope that if I give the Gravedigger the 10 million dollars, that he will spare her. Because I can’t lose her!” Jack’s voice cracked. 

“Do you have that amount of money on you,” Booth asked seriously. 

“No I…” 

“And do you have that much money in the bank?” 

“No but the trust…” 

“The trust wouldn’t give us the money to save you Hodgins, its policy, there is no way you are going to be able to get the money.” 

“What am I supposed to do then!” Hodgins screamed as he threw his phone across the lab shattering it. “We have no clue where the grave digger has her. And he used her cell phone to call me which means she doesn’t…” Hodgins  froze. “I need someone’s phone.” 

“I’m not going to give you mine if you are just going to…” Booth started. 

“Please.” Jack's voice cracked hard. 

Brennen,who had quickly made her way toward the two, grabbed Booth's phone out of his pocket and handed it to Hodgin, much to Booth's protest. 

Walking away from the group, Jack called the number he had memorized, but had hoped he would never have to use. He knew it was a long shot, he knew that if she was buried, she couldn’t get a call, but it was his only hope. 

It was ungodly hot, that was the only thing Y/N could think of as she sat in the car. Her mind was going a million miles per minute as she was trying to remember what had happened, where she was, how the hell she was going to get out, but the one constant thought was about the heat. 

She had started to go through her bag when suddenly she heard a phone vibrating. Frantic she began reaching in all her pockets trying to find her cell phone. 

“Shit!” She muttered when she couldn’t find it. “Where is it,” She began looking around the back seat, when she remembered. After Brennen had been taken by Kenton, Hodgins had given her a cell phone, one that was only meant for emergencies and she was supposed to hide it in her bag, in case something ever happened to her phone. She had stuffed it in her school bag, the one that was currently sitting in the seat next to her. “Jack,” She gasped knowing he would be the only person to call that number. Quickly she reached in pulling out the phone. “Jack?” 

Hodgins gasped out loud, placing his hand over his mouth, tears forming in his eyes. “Baby, are you ok?” 

“I’m in a car, I don’t remember what happened, the gravedigger he…” She rambled trying to get as much information out as possible. 

“I know, I”m so sorry.” Jack cried. “What can you see, can you see anything out the windows?” 

“No, its dark, I…” Y/N started. “Wait Jack, how am I getting reception?” 

“I don’t know…” Hodgins quickly turned to the group. “Angela, can you trace her number?” 

“Yes!” Angela exclaimed as the group quickly ran to her office. 

“Y/N, I need you to stay on the phone, ok, Angela is going to trace the number and we are going to find you.” 

Y/N at this point was only half listening, she was focusing on the windows of the car, the car was very dark, so dark that the only light from the small light on the roof of the car. But the windows didn’t look like something was covering them, instead, it looked like they had been painted. 

“Jack, the windows, they are covered in black paint, I don’t think I’m underground?” Y/N said as she reached over to the car door trying to see if she could roll one of the windows down. 

“What do you mean?” Hodgins said as he stood next to Angela, he had plugged the phone into her computer and was watching as she quickly typed. 

“Damn-it” Y/N said as the windows didn’t budge. Suddenly there was a beeping sound over the phone, and Y/N looked down to see that she had low battery, and the phone was going to die at any minute. “No, no, no, no, no.” She gasped. 

Hodgin’s heart stopped. “What is it, what’s wrong?” 

“Jack, my phone’s about to die. I don’t think I’m buried. I’m going to try to break the window.” 

“What, no don’t do that.” But there was no answer instead Jack could just hear the sound of breaking glass and then silence. “Y/N, Y/N!” Everyone stared at him eyes wide as he held his breath hoping to hear Y/N’s voice again. “Angela, how close are you to tracing the call.” 

“She’s somewhere in Maryland, looks like near Baltimore, just another minute more and I will have her.” 

“Jack,” Y/N said coming back onto the phone sounding out of breath. 

“Oh thank God,” Hodgins gasped. “What happened, are you out of the car?” 

“Yes, but Jack, I’m in a shipping container. The car was in a shipping container, and the doors won’t open.” 

“There should be a vent that lets air in, can you see if you can find it?” Hodgins asked as he watched the map narrowing down on where Y/N was. 

“It’s been welded shut,” Y/N sighed discouraged. The heat and the lack of oxygen was already making it difficult for her to breathe. Once again she heard the phone beep, and she knew there wasn’t much time left. “Jack, I love you. I love you so much.” 

“We are going to find you Y/N, I’m going to find you.” Hodgins said as he leaned down getting as close to the phone as he could. “What color is the shipping container, describe to me what you see.” 

“Its…” Y/N started when the line went dead. 

“Y/N!” Hodgins screamed as he watched Angela’s screen as it stopped tracking the phone call. “Y/N!” 

“I’m sorry Jack,” Angela said sadly tears in her eyes, they had been so close. 

“Damn-it!” He screamed and he was about to throw the phone again when Booth quickly snatched it from his hands. 

“Do we have anything Angela, you said Baltimore, anything more specific?” Booth asked. 

“Yeah, but I don't know how helpful it is.” Angela said as she reached over and grabbed Hodgins hand. “It’s the Port of Baltimore.” 

Hodgins stumbled backwards tears streaming down his face, the Port of Baltimore was one of the biggest Ports on the eastern seaboard, and they were looking for a shipping container. 

He looked out the window seeing the sun beating down, knowing that on the hot summer day, they weren’t going to have to worry about Y/N running out of air, instead she would be boiled alive in that container. And trying to find her was going to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. 

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Only Time Makes It Human 2

As promised, here I am with part two, hehe this is looooong and I'm really really proud of it 👉🏻👈🏻 part one here

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: college!au, angst, fluff, many smooches in this chapter I hope you enjoy

Warnings: mentions of cheating, smoking and Zeke being a little shit

Cobblestone streets and modern renovated buildings bathed in tiny multi colored Christmas lights decorated almost every side of Trost with Christmas creeping around the corner. Petra's eyes were gleaming golden as they landed on every store window, the smile on her face refused to fade. Her footing only became faster as they approached the turn to the familiar coffee shop.

Her cuffed up jeans swayed as she flickered her feet to the pedestral, expectedly catching Levi's attention, but not for the reason she'd like to. Today, Petra seemed too bright and bubbly to take notice of any puddle of water that was left behind from last evening's brief snow storm. Everytime Levi managed to open his mouth, in hopes of scolding her to prevent her from getting her feet wet she seemed to skillfully sway herself out of danger, leaving him with his mouth slightly parted while his unspoken words took a roote from the tip is his tongue back to his brain.

"Come on Levi! We're almost there!" Petra said enthusiastically.

Levi only managed to click his tongue in response. With a head that was begging to burst and hips that burned in soreness and superstitial scratches inside his sweatpants he couldn't possibly bring himself to catch up on Petra's enthusiasm. He even caught himself wondering how Petra was in such a good mood; as if she wasn't mixing any existing drink along with Hange last night.

His head was swamping him, drowning him with trillions of new questions with every passing second. It was merely impossible for him to ignore his point of view of last night's events. His mind was not even allowing him to take a breather, to enjoy a soul mending cup of hot tea before he could come up with any believable assumption as to how exactly he ended up in the position he woke up in.

As he sternly walked ahead behind his bubbly partner, his heart protested in his chest everytime he set his eyes on Petra's auburn hair. His stomach, much in a horrid condition as well threatened him to spill the alcohol poisoned insides it was welding; every aspect of his sore, hungover body deemed him unable to allow him to carry on.

Nontheless, as they took the inevitable turn the all too familiar coffee shop stood only a few meters away from him as he paced a few more steps, clutching his stomach along with each tap of his feet on the ground. Petra shot him a knowing glare before she set her hands on the vast metallic knob, a loving half smile lingered it's way across her full pinkish cheeks.

Winter time didn't suit Petra, she knew that as much as the next person. Despite the fact that the saturated rosy hue on her cheeks and nose made her look unbelievably sweet, her caramel like persona and choice of aesthetic screamed spring from miles away. It was a miracle that she could manage to get through wintertime somehow stylish and warm. With her lilac puffer jacket zipped up over her mouth and her wide leg jeans cuffed perfectly in order for her butterfly patterned socks to peak from her creamy Converse, she felt somehow confident enough that this could be a regular casual look for her.

However, with the holidays approaching in a week's time she knew she would have much more liberty to her clothing choices. She shot another warm look at Levi again, never loosing her small smile as she painted the picture of the two of them near Erwin's fireplace on Christmas day in her head.

Had it not been for his body pushing him over the edge of guilt be probably would have left his heart warm up by the small affectionate gesture.

Petra's attention seemed to deviate away from him for a few, mere seconds, with an ultimate goal to find a nice comfortable booth to sit in. Upon her eyes falling to the left she spotted one that looked decent, if not, the best booth in the cafe. Plenty of today's minimal sunlight was gathered on the spot; at the side there was a waitress, silently scrubbing the surface of the table with force, a tray with used cups and plates balancing perfectly on her other hand.

Amazing spot and recently cleaned? Levi's prayers must have been heard today.

She resended the fact that Levi would be too grumpy to let himself be bathed in light; with a grip of her hand around his wrist she pulled him towards the booth in fast movements. She couldn't have anyone take the perfect stand on her favorite cafe and plus, it would do good to both her and Levi to warm up under the nice morning light.

Petra loosened her puffer jacket off her frame, as silently as she could master; she knew by looking at Levi's face that he was in pain. It was unusual if him to get that drunk, she knew, but he had been particularly grumpy and almost too generous with his drink the previous night.

Not that Petra couldn't suspect the reason as to why Levi had managed to go to such extend. Her mind had been fast to put the pieces together when she saw you approaching their group and even faster to acknowledge that you seemed to ignore Levi and her completely. She had seen the effort and pain in your somewhat unfocused eyes every time you threw a small glance at them, she had seen the way Levi's face would fall with every passing second as your greeting to him never came and she wasn't one to judge.

When deciding to go after Levi after he had just broken up with you she knew she had to accept that maybe he wouldn't be able to recover from his past relationship that early as to get in one with her. Hange had warned her about it, her friends had warned her about it, but with her caramel sunshine personality and quick smart wits she had found her self in a promising position to Levi's future. In addition, they were having fun, joyous moments together, their linking had soon turned into what seemed like a blooming relationship.

"So." Petra beamed and shook her thoughts off her head, extending her hands patiently waiting for Levi to respond to the action by tingling his fingers through hers. "What's today's tea?"

Getting comfortable in her seat wasn't hard. The faux leathery material of the booth rubbed on her buttocks but with her jeans muffling most of the sound though she let it fall deaf in her ears. Still, her hands sat welcomingly extended on the table, her fingers occasionally motioning Levi to take a good grab at them to which he never seemed to pay attention. He seemed to distracted and anxious, too deviated of the world around him. But still Petra remained beaming, patient.

"Today." Levi sighed, burying his head between his palms, rubbing along his eyebrows with his thumbs. "Today I'll have coffee."

"Oh it's one of those days?" Despite not wanting to be too generous with her bubbliness to the point where she could irritate the man, Petra chose to simply lower her voice in understanding.

"Turkish, make it double and bitter."

Only on rare occasions did Levi drink coffee. He didn't despise the taste as much as warm lager though, what got him cringing with coffee was that he'd be moody and sad all day afterwards. But today sure had been an exception. No amount of painkillers would work for his head if he didn't get a sufficient amount of caffeine in his body. And since he already was in a shitty mood, how could coffee make it any worse.

With Petra out of sight for a few moments he was for the first time today, left alone with his thoughts. As his head throbbed memories roared their way to every corner of his brain, making his eyes squint. Anxiety would creep in and out as he thought of leaving you in his apartment confused and all alone, supposing you'd know what to do.

How could you know what to do?

In that moment leaving with Petra had seemed as the only possible thing for him to do; he couldn't expose you to her, for all that was worth you shouldn't have been there in the first place. But now? Thinking about it made him sick to the stomach. You were equally confused as lost in the moment and he had left you alone after spitting his anger for himself towards you, he made a mental note that a little self control couldn't harm him the next time he had to deal with promiscuous situation.

Most importantly though, he was facing an irrational inner conflict. He wasn't one to jump to impulsive decisions, but he wasn't one to be unfaithful either; his actions sat acute on his chest, sending dry gulps down his throat.

Petra arrived with two drinks in her hands before he had time to process his thoughts further. Sitting her self on the booth again she passed him the small white cup, the strong aroma of Turkish coffee hitting him immediately upon the action.

His chest tensed as he finally felt comfortable to shift outside of his jacket. The guilt inside him was tripping, lathering his stomach in vibrations and spending hot waves throughout his body. Suddenly, he couldn't bare to look across the table in Petra's direction.

She was sipping tenderly on her hot cup of chocolate cappuccino, her upper lip curled up in a sweetheart manner on the rim of the cup as she ogled at him with a feathery soft expression plastered across her face.

Though he loathed to be put in such position by his own self, the decision in the back of his mind seemed like the only rational one. As the time passed by and his coffee sat in the small cup, still as ever, his thoughts only roared louder. Was what he was thinking the right thing to do or was he just jumping into another heartbreak?

There was a sudden hunger eating away his insides, a need to see you and sit down to talk about whatever had happened last night. His heart was pounding at the thought of sitting across from you under a softer, humane setting, with your eyes starting into his. Maybe you could linger your hand into his, in the way Petra had prompted him to do so before and maybe he'd be able to somehow come up with particular words to solve the tention between the two of you.

But supposing that could ever be the case, that prompt left no room for Petra by his side.

"Maybe we should take a break."

The words left his mouth before he could manage to put an alt to his thoughts.

Without realizing, his eyes were now wide, starring deep into Petra's hazel ones. With shaky hands he grabbed his cup, deciding now that it was time to wet his dry mouth.

"No." Petra blinked her eyes erratically into Levi's, taken aback as she was.

It hit her like a truck.

One particular thing had struck Petra, back in the day when watching Mean Girls as a coming of age teen for the first time. The way Regina was slammed by the school bus was raw and unforgiving, perfectly fit to the nature of the scene and surprisingly it had looked realistic enough to make Petra -or anyone else- gasp. But had she ever thought she'd be in Regina's shoes?

"No?" Levi spoke as if he was right on time to answer the question in her mind. But Petra was still struck, mouth slightly agap as she stared back at him. Her mind was traveling on way too many places at once, sending anxiety to her stomach but she managed, despite all odds, to take a deep breath. Then, another.

"What's gotten into you Levi?" She asked.

"Last night was," he paused, averting his eyes with guilt.

Suddenly, Petra knew. She didn't have to try and guess what he was despairately trying to mutter. The evidence was everywhere, but she had deliberately chose to close her eyes. She should have known ever since last night when Levi left without informing no one. She squinted her eyes and furrowed her brows, by clenching her fists hard enough so that her nails were digging into her palms her knuckles turned white.

It was mostly his appearance that gave him away, more so than his behavior. When it was most likely for Levi to be unusually grumpy on many days, it wasn't like him to dress so randomly. His woolen black turtleneck didn't exactly match his sweatpants and his leather jacket. It wasn't like him to make such matches between his clothes, not even when he was in a hurry. In addition, she could see the marks behind his right ear, something he might have had no idea about, but she was going to spare him of the embarrassment.

"No, we're not breaking up."

It wasn't like her to mouth such statement; in fact, Petra would never on her right mind prevent someone from breaking up with her. She had seen it happening one too many times. Of course human relationships were made to fall apart at some point but her luck, especially when it came to romance, had never been kind.

She had been kind to everyone instead.

Whether people liked it or not that was her. Kind and considerate too much for her own good. She couldn't help that she was attracted to mysterious looking men with issues that would stand in her way of happiness; Levi was a tangible example. As much as she would like to mark her territory around him, she was aware he didn't belong to her. He had unbeknownst to him made sure to show on different occasions, whether it was by staring at you from afar for a lite too long or by finding her self being offered to wear your spare clothes that lived still in his apartment.

Maybe that was what was breaking her heart, urging her in turn to refuse his departure from her life. She didn't know why she shushed him in such way. Was it that her heart would tear in two if she heard an actual confirmation to her thoughts fall off the tip of his tongue? Most probably.

"I don't mind." She cut him off the moment she saw him opening his mouth to speak. "I'll help you get through this, I wouldn't abandon you for a slip up."

...

"(Y/n)! Where have you been we've been worried sick!"

The moment you set your collapsing feet inside the campus Sasha's eyes fell on your form, desperately shooting you simultaneous glares of terror and relief. The brunette practically run to your direction; with her feet stomping on the now discolored, moist grass that covered the majority of the campus yard she marched ambiguously. A worriedly frowned Eren who tried his best to contain his messy hair from getting in his eyes as he run, followed asuit.

"Jeez, why are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?" Sasha inquired, her voice loud as it was rang through your throbbing head, lingering in any possible hurting crevice. "Are you alright!?"

"Sas, don't scream, my head is about to explode." You muttered with watery eyes, begging your self to ignore Sasha's and Eren's puzzled faces.

"You reek of alcohol and sweat!" Eren exclaimed. "Shit. Where did you stay the night?"

"Beats me, Eren, I could have slept at a bench for all I know," you exhaled below a tainted breath.

At the sight of Eren's hard, unforgiving gaze, you could feel your heart speeding up inside your chest, the small vital organ clenched on your lungs, preventing them from processing air normally. Your chest burned in anxiety and uncertainty, there wasn't much time for you to come up with any excuse of your nighttime where abouts, you knew that much, and Eren or Sasha weren't going to straight up digest any profound lie you could come up with on the spot.

"Where did you wake up though?" Eren inquired sternly, yet his voice wasn't exactly authoritative as he waited for your answer.

"Outside my apartment door, I really don't remember anything up to that though."

"Don't scare us like that!" Sasha playfully punched your shoulder as she spoke with worried eyes. Her expression though quickly changed comically into fright as she finally scanned you up and down. "Just! Where is your jacket? It's freezing! Are you crazy?"

"I left it at that house yesterday. And my keys were in it." You muttered, averting your gaze away from Sasha.

"Stay here, I have a spare jacket in my bag, I'll go get it from Connie."

You nodded in response ignoring the fact that Sasha was already running away on her tracks upon the words leaving her lips. Quickly, you noticed as the expression of disapproval deformed off Eren's face, his lips curling upwards into into a soft smug.

He leaned close to you, bringing his face to the crook of your neck tilting his chin upwards so that his lips were almost brushing against your earlobe.

"I sure did leave you a nice mark yesterday huh? Don't flaunt it like that people will get jealous that im with you." A chuckle escaped him as he placed a quick kiss at the side of your neck. Eren's words were slowly shivering their way through your spine raising every single hair on your body.

When you realised what he was referring to your eyes widened, the tender spot of skin on your nape he had planted a kiss on burned in spreading hot blotches. Your stomach growled in protest to your feelings, threatening to spill once again as anxiety tied the organ in a numbing knot.

You shot a puzzled look at Eren -or rather at his back- but you weren't sure for what exactly. Your head was spinning, processing his spoken words unevenly in despairate efforts to put the pieces together. Was he aknowledging that you were together or was he sassing you over hickies he hadn't been the one to make?

And as oblivious as ever he only shot you a wide ear to ear grin. The cold winter air blew his long bangs to all directions across his face, his eyes squinting in happiness as he pulled back from your neck placing his palms over your shoulders. He didn't really seem like he even knew whether the marks on your neck were made by him.

"You know, maybe we should go out next Saturday alright?" He batted his eyes on you once again "No labels, just us buying Christmas gifts. Maybe Zeke could come as well."

Ah yes, Zeke. As if your problems weren't big enough already while you had to deal with the fact that you were most probably ruining Levi's life again with yesterday's actions, you also had to tolerate Christmas shopping with Eren and Zeke. When the fact that Eren would avoid the two of you being alone together in any date-like scenario was a given it was only on rare occasions your so proud and self proclaimed wingman stuck along with you.

In the back of your head you could always think about Levi and how much he disliked that you would sometimes hang out with Zeke, especially due to the fact that the two of you shared a sculpture class.

But why exactly were you thinking about that now?

Nevertheless you needed to stop your mind from running back to Levi for only a moment. The way he had abandoned you in his apartment all alone was cruel enough and as you looked at Eren, worrying your button lip between your front teeth, you contemplated on whether you deserved it.

You had gotten up on your wobbly feet only to maniacally search for your clothes all over his floor. Your jacket, long forgotten in his car to which of course you didn't have access, held your apartment keys. You had opted to just dress up with the clothes you had and walk the short distance to the campus; what could have possibly happened in a ten minute walk? You couldn't freeze your arms off in such a short period of time.

Admittedly, you had taken numerous walks without a jacket after midnight during wintertime, but the freezing morning breeze of December in Trost was something you wished you had never underestimated.

If you could, you would have Sasha slap you for not borrowing one of Levi's jackets but in your last hungover braincell's defense, you didn't want to cause him any more trouble. Of course you'd put him in enough trouble when you'd ask him for your jacket and keys, you couldn't possibly imagine to have to give him back a piece of clothing you had burrowed without asking.

You were positive he had come to hate you enough that he could set any cloth you wore on fire. Was he going to do the same to the bed covers, you wondered.

Naturally, your thoughts were cut short as Sasha approached you with a hooded sweater in her hands. As the brunette whined, out of breath you finally awknowledged Eren again; his hand was wrapped around your shoulders, providing momentarily warmth as he worriedly stared at your shivering jaw.

"You must be so cold." Sasha mouthed as she wrapped her own arms over Eren's around you. "I'm sorry I didn't have a spare jacket snd, Connie didn't either but Reiner did, he gave me this and he said he'd search for your jacket at their frat alright?"

You simply nodded, slightly closing your eyes in acceptance of her gesture. Your own frozen arms came to wrap around her waist as you pulled her close to you. "Thank you baby."

"Don't mention it. Reiner also gave me a jersey, they're both fleece, you should be warm enough."

Eren seemed to shift uncomfortably as you ripped Reiner's black hoodie off Sasha's grip, despairately speeding up your movements to wear the warmth providing piece of clothing over your form. His lips puckered momentarily as he pinched his nose in what looked like annoyance from the corner of your eye. Quickly though you caught his face falling into a smug expression once again as he eyed you.

"I'll say thanks to Reiner for you." Eren said, clicking his tongue while pinching his nose once again.

Once Eren strolled away, Sasha widened her eyes dropping her mouth in an unbelievable manner of disbelief. She sucked the underside of her mouth, propping her lower lip even further to exaggerate the comical effect of her expression. Not that you were one to judge, you stared back at her with the same look on your face as well, puzzled much by Eren's mixed signals. The two of you continued to stare back and forth at eachother for a few silent moments as your temples throbbed, despairate to process what had just happened.

"Is Eren jealous?" Sasha finally uttered, finally putting the situation into words. "What the actual fuck?"

"You know he told me to go Christmas shopping with him? As in going out?" Sasha's mouth formed into an 'o' as she stared at you, her eyes lingering at your lips awaiting for your next sentence. "And what do you know, then he even said no strings attached and that he'd invite Zeke as well."

"And now he's jealous of Reiner giving you his clothes?" Sasha furrowed her brows at this, earning a reluctant nod in response by you.

"I need to have a smoke, or else I can't process this." You sighed, avoiding Sasha's disapproving gaze at your statement. As your eyes scanned around the campus you spotted Erwin and Mike sat on a kiosk. A mischievous grin of relief creeped onto your face as you thought of how Erwin would never run low on tobacco. "Wanna go say hi to Erwin and Mike?"

Sasha simply nodded, opting to keep her lecture about the hazardous nature of smoking to herself. This would have to wait for another time; she knew better than to go against her hungover friends. Connie especially was a pain in the ass to deal with. Everyone knew that much thus compared to him, your need to have a smoke felt almost irrelevant.

"Erwin!" You rolled your eyes, your face squinting in pain as you plopped yourself next to the blond, your head quickly coming to rest on his shoulder "Tell me you've got much needed tobacco and filters."

"Sure I... Uh.. I do."

"Great," you sighed "please roll me one."

Even if you missed the way everyone's eyes widened at your sudden presence, Sasha certainly didn't. With a quick, shy look at Erwin, she apologetically averted her gaze to everyone in the kiosk; she nervously cleared her throat next, attempting to get your attention as subtly as possible yet, you still sat with your eyes closed, leaning on Erwin's shoulder. In a way Sasha felt sorry for what she was about to do, but you'd be thanking her forever once you had gotten yourself out of the situation.

"Hi Levi, Petra."

"Oi"

"Hi Sasha!"

Your eyes shot open in terror as you heard the exchange of words. Your head almost immediately shot up from Erwin's shoulder; of course, as Sasha had warned you with her greeting, Levi and Petra stood before you, eyeing you up and down in judgemental looks. Automatically you placed your fingers at the nape of your neck, ready to mingle with the skin there in an attempt to cover up the bruised skin from Petra, not thinking about whether your nervous actions easily gave you away.

"Uh... Hey you guys!" You spoke. The need to to bite your tongue off and swallow it so you could never mouth anything as awkward ever again hit you almost instantly. Awestruck by your awkwardness Levi and Petra only nodded in response, causing a long sigh to escape your lips.

You seriously didn't know why you had to go through this. All you wanted was to actually process last night in a quiet friendly environment and then maybe you'd attempt to think about Eren's weirdly awaken jealously. But as Levi's steely orbs burned holes in your form, wide enough to indicate he could might as well be seeing someone come back from the dead, you disposed of the fantasy. Of course he had to occupy your mind I'm such way that your heart burned brighter than your hungover headache.

No one around you could possibly know what the look you shared with Levi meant. As far as everyone was concerned last night hadn't happened, not in their timeline at least, but for you and the onyx haired man it was an inescapable reality. It was almost telepathic, the way you knew what he was trying to tell you with his steely gaze, as if he was answering the questions inside your head.

We need to talk about last night.

Nervously you averted your gaze to Erwin's hands and they brought the rolled cigarette to your lips, wordlessly asking for you to sip the edge of the rolling paper with some saliva from the tip of your tongue to activate the glue. Once he handed the cigarette to you, you shot up, putting weight on your now week knees. With one hand you put the cigarette between your lips, you took a drag as you carefully lit it up with the lighter Erwin handed you. You waved everyone goodbye, rubbing your palm on Mike's back, earning a small smile from the blond.

Great, now there was no way you'd ask for your jacket back. You'd have someone unlock your door for you. So much for saving yourself from such embarrassment.

...

Saturday came before you could even have time to decide what gift you wanted to get everybody. As per usual, you'd be spending Christmas at Erwin's; it had became a tradition in your group even before you and Levi had hit it off as a couple. Erwin was living all alone in a huge, very non college student budget-y apartment. His father had bought it for him before passing away and you as his dear friend group, had made an oath to never leave him lonely on Christmas.

Except for last year you'd usually you'd have dinner at Erwin's. Levi had always been strict on spending at least half of the day with his mother, therefore Erwin had always had Christmas scheduled. You'd visit him on the 23rd, making all preparations for Christmas dinner and Levi's cake, so that you wouldn't have much work when the big day would finally come.

Naturally, you'd open gifts at Erwin's, therefore you always dropped your presents for the group at his place when you'd buy them, although today you didn't think you'd be able to do so.

While you were almost done with buying presents, Zeke and Eren were spending way too much time pestering each other for what gift they'd buy to their father; at first they had set their eyes on an expensive silver watch. You had to admit it was a beautiful accessory, the way it shone under the bright lighting of the store's window seemed magnificent and just like you had told Eren, you approved of such gift for Grisha, one hundred percent.

And right about then, Zeke has decided to stir things up. You knew he was jealous of Eren's and Grisha's father and son relationship, but you had never guessed it could go to such mischievous extend on the blond's behalf. With a sour expression and a poison dripping mouth Zeke had expresed his utter disgust over the watch, claiming that this was not the right gift for their father and that they should settle for something more 'doctor-like'.

Their bickering had went on for about an hour before you had decided to excuse yourself from the jewelry store. Now, you stood sat on one of the comfortable futuristic benches in between the stores, scrolling maniacally through Instagram. It was such a slow Saturday and if you were to say you were bored it would only be an understatement; almost nobody had posted anything interesting enough to catch your attention, no new music was announced by your favorite artists, hell you even missed people posting a bunch of stories with their Christmas trees.

You almost ignored the tall, dark frame approaching you as you were deeply lost into your phone. Destiny's Child - 8 Days to Christmas repeatedly blasted in your ears as you continued to scroll, still ignorant to the figure beside you.

Your own little Christmas bubble world was cut absurdly as a hand came to wave between you and your phone screen. Your heart skipped a beat as you jumped on your spot, taken aback by the sudden action. Wide eyed and looking to your left you finally came to identify the man who had startled you.

Now that could be a cure to your boredom. Even if it wasn't the best possible option.

"Kenny?" You exhaled enthusiastically slipping your hand between your locks of (h/c) hair, reaching for the small black ear buds. "I'm so sorry I was wearing my headphones. What are you doing here?"

"Ahh just buying Kuchel's gift. You got me thinking you were trying to ignore me runt."

"I'd never, be-" You playfully punched his shoulder as he eyed you, a smirk appearing in his face quicker than you thought it would.

"Besides I'm your favorite uncle, right?" He spoke, completing your sentence. A deep sigh escaped his mouth as he rubbed his cold hands together, hoping to create enough friction to warm up his fingertips. "How long have you been waiting for the midget runt?"

You turned your dropping face away from his direction as the words fell off his mouth. Your heart gradually started throbbing inside your chest, the tight knot of anxiety was forming and coming undone in fragments of seconds as you stared at the white granite under your feet. Kenny must had taken a while to realise the chance of aura around you, a steady chuckle came out of him as he commented on Levi's meticulous routine of picking gifts for his friends.

"And why the long face?" Finally, he turned his attention to you "Did you have a fight?"

"Not exactly, we haven't fought in a long time." You admitted.

Kenny's gray eyes worried over you before squinting in another smiling manner. His palm came to playfully slap your upper back as he left out another loud chuckle of amusement. "I'm sure you two don't have many things to fight about. Kuchel is so enamored by that, how do you even manage with this brat (y/n)?"

"I don't... Not anymore at least."

Kenny's chuckle was cut short absurdly by your soft, mumbling voice. There was no way he hadn't heard what you had just said, he was just struggling to comprehend the context of your words. You claiming you weren't dealing with him anymore meant you weren't together anymore and Levi had deliberately kept this secret from him and Kuchel.

"Wait, you're not together? When did that happen?"

"Kenny" you paused, deciding to set your eyes onto him all while still avoiding his gaze. "It's almost been a year."

"What? Wait, why?"

"Levi and I, how do I put this in the shortest way possible, Kenny..." You sighed, bringing a finger to the side of your lips and biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to concentrate on your summing up skills. "He became distant, too engrossed with studying and shut himself off and I guess I just, I felt excited for something else. Levi felt excited for something else too."

That could make up for a quick summary, it could be enough to make Kenny understand the quick narration of you point of view. It was unnecessary to go into further details, such as how you had came closer with Eren throughout your group, or how Zeke had tried his best to convince you that he was right on the fact that Levi was growing more distant with each passing day, every time you'd open up to him about your problems.

More over, you couldn't possibly go into the lengths as to how quickly Levi had hit it off with Petra, proving Zeke's assumptions on the fact that maybe Levi was just tired of you.

"Shit. I'm sorry, if it helps, care to gossip on Levi's new item?" Kenny shifted his hands inside the pockets of his camel colored trench coat, rubbing circles on his upper thighs through the material of the pockets. "I'm dying to to know to what he moved on."

"Kenny! I don't do that!" You bit back and lowered your gaze as you instantly second guessed your statement. You contemplated on whether talking lowly about Petra is the right thing or not to do; she hadn't done anything wrong to you, she was just dating someone she liked while you were turning into their bitter, regretful ex. You couldn't possibly have the right to be jealous of her. But as you looked at Kenny's disapproving expression, you realised that maybe, just maybe, you were. "But I guess I'll show her to you!"

With a double tap your screen came to life, the familiar unlocking page bubbling as it urged you to fill your chosen password. Your fingers ran quickly on the familiar numbers; you've typed them one too many times already. You bit your lip in newfound anxiety as you awkwardly scrolled your social media folder, your fingers found the fuchsia camera icon automatically. With another tap your white Instagram homepage popped up, accommodating a picture of Mike and Nanaba's hands, each holding a carton cup. With a quick doubly tap you liked the picture and set your self the task of on swiping through the story icon features, quickly searching for Petra's familiar profile picture.

"Ah here you go." You finally spoke, breaking the silence as you found Petra's icon. Tapping on it once her newest story popped up. You set your finger on the screen again, keeping your tap locked in place to pause the flow of the story.

The picture depicted her standing before her mirror dressed in a white turtleneck layered with a powder blue plaid dress and topped with a black flap pocket woolen jacket. You could make the creative 'outfit of the day' mention on the bottom left corner, although you were unsure if Kenny cared enough about Petra's Saturday outfit. Plus, you didn't really need him to compare her sophisticated style to you.

"You know I can't really see her face, her phone is in the way."

You simply tapped over Petra's profile name as you sighed. Petra's feed appeared before your eyes, slowly loading all her highlights and posts. You gave your phone to Kenny next, deliberately choosing to look away and stay silent as he scrolled through the girls photos, curiously ogling at her for a few seconds.

"Ah runt," he spoke after sometime, his hands extending to give your phone back, "you ain't gonna stop being my favorite child, he'll come back around you know. He'll always love you, you have his heart and all that jazz."

Kenny tried his best to cut himself some slack from the awkwardness of the situation. Keyword; tried. As he sighed, his head spinner on what he could possibly say to you, he could exactly pinpoint if you needed to be reassured or comforted, or whether he was too late to be there for you.

There was something puzzling you, that was certainly written all over your face as you studied him. Your fingers were nervously mingling with eachother as you gripped on your phone, your hips shifting uncomfortably in the spot you sat. You were nervously thrusting around in your seat, that was much obvious to someone that knew you like Kenny did.

"He already did. But I'm not convinced he loves me, it's more like he has one more reason to hate me. We uhm we... You know, pfft, TMI Kenny, I'm sorry but I need to talk about this with someone."

"Shoot it!"

"We hooked up a well ago."

Oh shit, now that was new. Kenny's eyes widened in surprise as the words left your lips. His shifted himself enough to fully face you, his gray eyes worriedly meeting yours as you opened your mouth to explain. Words that were supposed to flow effortlessly ceased to exist as another, louder voice overshadowed your own.

"Zeke I swear I'll kill you if you- oh who's that (y/n)?"

You turned your head to the owner of the voice, your heart dropping the moment you met Eren's soft turquoise gaze. He stood there, clutching the small burgundy gift bag in his grip, as victorious smug adorned his features.

"Uh, finally you guys! This is Kenny Ackerman, he's," you paused, suddenly uncertain on how you should introduce Kenny to Eren and Zeke or whether you should introduce him to them at all.

"Levi's uncle." Kenny spoke, saving you from unnecessary fidgeting of information. He eyed Eren meticulously as his face slightly dropped in annoyance.

"I'm Eren Yeager, (y/n)'s friend and that's my brother, Zeke."

Eren smiled and extended his hand for a shake at Kenny's direction. Clicking his tongue, Kenny reluctantly gave his hand to the younger man before nodding knowingly in your direction. Eren didn't have to say anything else to prove Kenny he was halfheartedly trying to assert some dominance over you and although the older man tried his best to keep his laughter to himself, he got the message Eren was trying to convey.

Taking another breather to himself, Kenny picked his lips, allowing his face to fall into his usual stern expression.

"See you around (y/n)."

..

You laid on your couch, enthusiastically reading through a Greek epic you had burrowed from Hange a while back. Your hair dripped into the towel you had folded on the arm of the couch as you rested your head against it. You had wanted to slow down your thoughts before taking a change at blow drying your hair, there was a rage of overthinking going inside you that you refused to be left alone with.

You felt overly slow after your meeting with Kenny; the bath you had taken had done nothing to soothe down the wild nature of your thoughts, despite the fact that you had taken your time soaking in hot water and lavender oils.

The strangle fatigue you felt was feeling more indifferent with every passing second as you anxiously read bout Antigone's suicide, your heart was slowly being filled with grief as you though about her significant other, Heamon and how he could possibly react to her death. You were so enamored with the fact that Heamon was son to the king who had ordered Antigone's imprisonment that your eyes were ready to spill all the unshed tears that had gathered in the small corners of tender skin.

You set the epic down, burying your face between your palms as you let out a deep sigh. The air in the room felt heavy, you thought, thus you decided to get up from your couch and stroll around the room to reach for your hairbrush. Maybe now was the time to blow dry your head, your thoughts were completely off Kenny and Levi for the moment.

The sound of your doorbell startled you, though, making you freeze on your spot. You immediately unlocked your phone, hurriedly checking through your notifications for a sign on who it could be; it was rather unusual for someone to just visit you without having informed you about it beforehand.

Nontheless you marched over to the intercom, your finger shooting to press the metallic button to let your voice ring on the other side of the front door of your apartment building.

"It's Levi. I've got your jacket."

Panic run through you in throbbing waves. You simply stood there, feeling utterly and ridiculously puzzled with what you should do. You didn't know if you wanted to run down the front door and just grab the jacket on your own or if you just wanted to call Levi in. Grasping the situation seemed only fair, even in your panicked state you could admit you knew that much.

Your fingers immediately reached for the button underneath the one you were pressing causing a buzzing sound to ring through the intercom. You nervously opened your door and as on que, a few moments later Levi's frame emerged from the elevator doors, strolling to your direction, your black leather jacket neatly folded in his arms.

You wanted to speak, to greet him decently for once after all that time but you failed to find any prompt as to how to do that. Your mind felt at haze as you stared at him while he walked up to, the light from your apartment slowly illuminated his face more with every new step he took to its direction.

"Hey, sorry I came so suddenly, I'm on my way to the movies." He greeted, probing his head upwards to accentuate the action.

'Hey' you wanted to say, to establish some normal ground in your dynamics but still the words that left your mouth before you had enough time process what you wanted to say didn't exactly disappoint.

"Wanna come in?" The subtle look in your eyes as you fixated your orbs at his was at the very least, mesmerizing. If Levi was to describe it, he'd find himself quickly running out of sophisticatedly flavored academic words.

There was definitely a different kind of tention forming between the two of you. It was in the air, but whether it was caused by his own brain as he made the all too casual car ride to your place or by the way that you casually swayed your hair over your shoulder before prompting your head closer to him to speak up, he didn't know. All that he knew was that he was feelings his heart hammering in his chest as anxiety creeped in his stomach. The bold nature of his actions was having this profound effect on him and he'd be damned if he had to question himself one more time as to why he was in your doorstep now out of all times.

Still, your words somewhat lingered in his brain, despite almost falling deaf on his ears. His inability to pay attention to words was probably caused by his heart throbbing in his chest at witnessing this side of you.

"Sure" Levi found his mouth vomiting an answer.

You stepped aside, making room for him to entered the room as you gestured him to. Once he had walked in you closed the door behind you, your chest heaving in a despairately deep breath.

...

Did all kisses feel like that?

Your lips were soft and tender and tasting like burnt tobacco while Levi's were chapped dry and thus split, tinted in purple and tasting like dried blood. It was eeree to think about it, how it came to yours lips finding his once again or why it felt the way it did and why did it momentarily comfort you.

Your whole body was paralyzed with stress and agony; you couldn't move. The inability to speak caused by the burning guilt driven feeling inside your stomach was slowly taking a toll on how the rest of your internals liked to function. The efforts you were putting to regulate your breathing out of your nostrils were tainted and faint, as if not enough courage was laying underneath them and you hated it. You hated that your lungs were paralyzed like that under Levi's mouth on yours.

Maybe if you stopped existing or disappeared for just a moment everything would be normal when the next one came. Yet, things could never work like that and reality was always unforgiving to the actions you would decide to go for.

You still couldn't process how this had happened. One minute you were sat on your couch, angrily looking at each other as you spoke about how prohibited and dirty was what you had endulged in the previous week and the next your words had ceased to exist. His gray orbs had locked into yours, his breathing had quickened, much like yours, and your faces had been so close that your noses were almost touching.

You didn't know what had pushed you to act upon the tention in the air. Maybe it was your aching heart or Levi's eyes as they had begged you to kiss him. Now your own lips, in a similar way were begging him not to stop moving against yours.

Lost in your extravagant world of misery and heartache you didn't seem to realise that Levi's hand still hadn't left your cheek when you let out a long deep sigh escaped your mouth. Instantly though, with your brain acknowledging the moment and delving deeper into the reality of this situation, you jolted away, causing Levi to jump back on his tracks, as if he'd be electrocuted.

"Levi" you trailed off, softly mumbling the next words "I'm so sorry I did this, I should have known better."

Your heart was beyond hammering inside your chest; the cold dripping swear of anxiety had started to coat your palms and upper chest as he engulfed your lips again, this time much more gently. He gently tagged on your bottom lip, worrying it between his own lips. The mellow sounds of sucking filled the air as you tried to pull back, only to be attacked by his mouth every time.

Suddenly as you had just started melting under his hot touch on your waist, you heard what sounded as the most despicable sound that ever existed. Levi's phone buzzed in his pocket as it rang angrily, causing him to pull back from your face. The phone stopped ringing though, just before he could manage to swipe the answer button to the right, sending a huff of annoyance to leave him.

Petra's caller ID burned in his screen once again as his phone started ringing for the second time. This time, he hesitated to lick up. As he started at you apologetically his fingers trembled. He knew, eventually he would pick up the phone, judging by the time his phone read he was late to the very own screening he had decided to ask Petra to. Guilt formed in the back of his throat and he clicked his tongue to try and suck it up, even for a brief moment. With his finger on the acceptance button he turned to you again fixating his eyes at your bruised lips before he spoke.

"I have to go y/n I'm so sorry." He said and finally brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, I'm on my way, I had a mishap, I'll be there in ten, save a seat for me."

This all felt too familiar, once again you were forced into the third person's perspective, although this time you were fully aware of your intentions before and after the so called mishap.

"Listen, supposing you want this to work again we have to put an end to whatever else we have going on. I can't bear being the-"

"I know" he quickly cut you off, picking up his letter jacket from the pool it had formed around him as he hurriedly got up. "I'll call you alright? Have a good night." You blinked at him, not having enough time to utter a response as you watched him run to your door.

Your heart fell to your stomach as you stood frozen in your couch witnessing him exit your small apartment, not even bothering to look back.

You knew now that if Levi chose Petra your world was going to burn.

If you suffered along with my by reading one too many paragraphs in this chapter I'm sorry, thank you though for reading this fic in its entirety, please look forward to part 3 hehe, as always here are my tags: @ackermans-freedom-inc @sasageyowrites (my baby thank you for helping me SO much with this chapter I don't have enough words to explain how much I love you) @ladyofpandemonium @nobody-knows-anymore @levisbrat25 @papinaveensbitch @alrightberries

[mickeymouse-moshpit]

cowboy like me

A/N: I’m terrible at summaries! What would happen if you were a Mandalorian who knew Din Djarin once upon a time? This is canon-divergent (Grogu is there and not at Jedi school), and quite the piece of fluff! 

This is the first half of my gift for my Secret Santa! I got very carried away and after I had the second half finished, I realized that this also needed to be written down and shared as well.

Word count: 3.2K

No warnings! 

You let your head tilt back, smacking against the headrest of the pilot’s seat. There were two more standard hours in hyperspace before you would reach your destination, and you considered closing your eyes. These last three days had not gone the way you expected them, with a rowdy bounty leading you on a wild bantha chase that consisted of moon hopping and them inevitably ending up in carbonite anyway. You were tired, but you were headed to a new planet to finally get your Guild credentials. Worth it. 

***

You shifted in your seat as you woke to the alert from the autopilot, back and neck stiff from sitting in one position for so long. Time was up, time to land on Nevarro. You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to tame it some so you could braid it back. You picked up your helmet from the copilot’s seat, settling the beskar over your head. The display flickered to life, offering enhanced views of your path to the surface. You took control of your ship, entering the atmosphere and deciding to settle on the outskirts of the town you had been told about. It didn’t look like much, with its overcast skies and unassuming arch at the entrance to the town with blaster marks scarring it.

You opened your footlocker, pulled out your rifle. You checked to make sure your vibroblade and blaster were secure. You went to close it again but stopped. The small square of beskar you had swiped from an Imp glimmered through the visor of your helmet. On autopilot, it ended up in the sleeve pocket on your left arm and the footlocker was closed.

You lowered the ramp and walked down, engaging your ground security before you went in search of the cantina you were to meet your contact in. You would have to come back to let them get the bounties, but you didn’t trust the contact yet. The volcanic soil crunched under your boots. You could see the residents milling about, some with small children at their side. That made you smile. How bad a place could it be if there were kids? You kept walking, keeping a brisk pace. You stopped at a set of unassuming doors with the right numbers inscribed above them. They opened on their own.

Various species were scattered around the cantina, drinking or eating or talking or just watching. No band. Odd. But they still noticed you and the talk came to a halt.

“Mando!” came the voice of a stranger. “I’ve been waiting for you!”

“I’m sure,” you replied, an edge of suspicion coloring your words that you never could quite get rid of. The onlookers went back to their drinks and conversations.

“Come, sit, we have business to attend you.”

He led you to a booth on the right side of the bar, and you sat with your back to the wall.

“You Mandos are all the same, you know.”

You tilted your helmet at him.

“You won’t sit anywhere except against the wall, and no matter how I rave about the spotchka you won’t drink with me.”

“Seems like you’ve had a lot of experience with Mandalorians then.”

“You could say that, but then you could say I don’t. I don’t share my dealings with other Guild members.”

“To business then? I don’t have all day.”

“Of course. What do you have for me?”

“Enough to get into the Guild.”

You slid the two tracking fobs across the table.

“Are you sure you want in?”

“I need work, Guild has work.”

“Very well. Let’s get the offload going.” *** You adjusted the rifle strap across your chest and wandered back into the town. You had heard rumors of a covert here and wanted to see for yourself if they were true. You hadn’t seen another Mandalorian since you left your home seven years prior. The Empire had taken control of your planet and flushed the small tribe you belonged to from its covert. You had survived on your found talent as a bounty hunter. You had always had a knack for tracking, payment was a side benefit you had figured out when the handsy pirate you had laid out turned out to have a price on his capture.

A flicker of motion in the periphery caught your eye. A heavy curtain was settling back into place, tucked away in the corner of the marketplace behind a food stand. You walked past the monkey-lizards in their cage and paused beside the unassuming entryway. You listened. As you considered entering, a girl no older than 10 crept through the curtain and into the square, paying you no mind. She moved quickly, but the mythosaur around her neck let you know this was the place.

You stepped behind the curtain yourself, walking down the steps as quietly as you could. There were maybe five kids running around the hall, laughing at something. You were maybe ten steps away from the stairs when you were met with a mountain of a Mandalorian.

“Where did you get that?” he demanded.

“It was crafted for me in pieces.” You knew he was referring to the beskar you wore and hoped your answer would be enough.

“Why should I believe you?”

You pulled down the material of the glove on your left hand, revealing your own mythosaur your clan had given you.

“Very well, you are welcome to rest here. There aren’t many of us left here so there is space.”

“Where is your Armorer?”

“Keep walking, take the first left, you’ll know where she is.”

“Thank you.”

You set off, felt the stares of other Mandalorians that were scattered through the halls. You didn’t dare meet their glances. You felt much the intruder, with your phoenix rebellion symbol painted onto your back and frynock signet welded onto your pauldron. You kept walking until you reached the forge, halting to make sure the Armorer wasn’t busy. Satisfied with silence, you entered and knelt at her table. She came from behind the flames, kneeling across from you. You slipped the beskar square out of its pocket and set it in front of her.

“I know it isn’t much, but it belongs back with Mandalorians.”

“It would be enough to produce a small blade if that is your preferred medium.”

“Yes. It always has been since I was a child.”

“Very well.” *** You left the forge with your small blade now in a leather sheath on your left arm. You were adjusting the straps when you heard your name. Your real name. The only people who knew that name had been scattered across the galaxy.

“How do you know that name?” you called as you spun on your heel to face the stranger.

“I would know you anywhere.” He was close to you now, on the edge of your personal space. “You’re not saying you forgot me?”

You took in the stance, the way his helmet tilted, the voice behind the vocoder.

“Din Djarin.”

“So, you do remember.”

He reached for your arm, but you took a step back out of instinct; the last guy who did that had ended up dead. If he was hurt, you couldn’t tell.

“Of course, I remember. I remember we were kids, young, dumb, responsibilities to fulfill.” Your voice was softer now. You took a half step back toward him. “I remember before we swore the Creed, before you went off to the Fighting Corps, before I went to train other foundlings. Before I joined the rebellion. That was a long time ago.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was. Did they tell you where your quarters are?”

“Of course not, but it is what it is.”

“Come on, I’ll take you.”

You fell into step beside him, almost like no time has passed. He led you through the halls of his covert. As you went further, you could hear the sounds of fighting from what you assumed to be the training room, snippets of the history of Mandalore before it was destroyed by the Empire. You recalled growing up, meeting the man beside you before you had covered your faces. You wondered what he looked like now.

“Here we are.” He punched in the code for the quarters and gestured for you to go in. “I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Um, actually I got some sleep before I landed. Would you stay for a minute?” You touched his wrist, hoping it might get him to come inside.

“Uh, sure, why not.”

You stepped over the threshold, Din right behind you. The room was sparse, like any Mandalorian’s existence since The Great Purge. There was a bed, a kitchen area, a refresher, but not much more. This room was clearly meant for one person, there wasn’t even a chair. Your fingers itched to pull the helmet from your head now that you were in private, but you knew this wasn’t the time. You pulled your rifle off and left it by the door, then walked over to the kitchen and hopped up on the counter. You didn’t want to chance sitting on the bed and making him uncomfortable.

“It’s been a while,” you tried.

“You could say that.” He was still beside the entrance, standing like he wasn’t quite sure how to relax with you in the room. “But when I saw you it seemed like no time had passed at all.”

You gestured to the counter opposite you. He didn’t move.

“You, sentimental? I never would have described you that way.” You slid off the counter and paused. “From what I remember, we were ‘supposed’ to forget each other existed. We were supposed to do our duties and what was needed of us.” You took a few steps toward him.

“I know. But clearly that didn’t work.” His shoulders slumped as much as they could in his armor. “Now we’re here.”

“That’s true. We are here.” You stepped closer, removed your gloves. “I tried you know. I tried to forget about you. I threw myself into those foundlings, into whatever was needed of me. Then came the Empire to my new home. Then everyone was scattered. Then I hunted. Then I joined the Guild. Now I’m here.” You tossed the gloves on the counter behind you.

“I tried, and it worked for a while. I went across the galaxy for my son. But we ended up back here. And all I wanted was to tell you about it.” He closed more of the space between the two of you with two steps and took your left hand in his right. “Now I’m here.”

You didn’t respond, just lifted your joined hands, bringing your other to slip under the glove that covered his hand still. You tilted your helmet up to see him nod once. You turned your attention back to your task, shuffling the leather over his hand and knuckles. You tossed the offending article on the counter beside your own as he threaded his fingers through yours. His other hand reached up slowly, finding your chin under your helmet and tilting your head up to look at him. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “I didn’t know that I would ever see you again. Now that you’re here, I never want you to leave me again.”

“I—I joined the Guild, I’ll have to.” You thought he was going to break your hand when his fingers tightened around yours.

“You just had to go and be a cowboy like me, didn’t you?” He laughed softly. You tilted your head and he let his hand drop away from it.

“Hey now, I had to do something to pay the bills.” You didn’t want him to know that desperation that had led you to this moment. “You could come with me, keep the ship clean and food cooked.” You wished he could see the way your nose scrunched when you teased him. ‘

“Karga didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“You’re not the only Mando he knows.” His laugh crackled through the vocoder. “I’m not saying we should team up but let’s also agree to not fight over bounties.”

“Yeah. Not teaming up.” You stared at your interwoven hands. “Do you remember that last afternoon?”

You hoped the same images ran through his mind that were running through yours. You had both been given the half day off to prepare for your coming assignments. You were nervous, he had asked you to come with him to discuss something important. He had led you to the stream where the two of you had always escaped to even before you had sworn the Creed years prior. He had asked if you would be his, his to love, his to raise warriors with. The two of you had been halfway through your vows when plans had changed. The timelines had shifted, and you were both to leave that night. You had promised each other you would find your way back. But that didn’t happen. The Empire had seen to that. You had been separated and you had both assumed the other was dead. It was easier. No one would grant the two of you to ability to seek out the other. There was no time for the past, only going forward.

“It has run through my head every night as I fall asleep since.” He pulled your hands to his chest, gently trapping yours between the cold steel and his warm touch. “All I wanted for so long was to find you, to finish those words, to see your face again. But there were other plans for us. Now we’re here.”

“We could—we’re here now.” You couldn’t keep the hope from your voice. You step even closer, your helmet resting just above your hands where his collarbone would be.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome.” You almost miss his quiet words, so lost in thought and the feeling of being in his arms again. “We’ve always been one, c’yarika. Even with a galaxy between us, we just couldn’t know it.”

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome.” You pick your head up again, doing your best attempt at eye contact. You felt a prick at the corner of your eyes but kept your composure. This was what you had always wanted, no need for tears.

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

“Mhi me’dinui an.” You considered that one for a moment. “Even our bounties?”

“Mhi ba’juri verde.” He ignored your question. This was not the time for jokes, and you knew it.

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

His forehead met yours again. When he pulled away briefly, you stepped back a bit, pulling him with you. You untied the sheath from your arm, from your leg and placed them with your gloves. You turned away from him, paused for a moment, placing your hands on either side of the helmet. This was it, what you had wanted for so many years. Why were you hesitating? You turned back to him, and his hands rested over yours. Together you lifted part of the barrier between the two of you. You set it to the side and stared up at him while his hands went to his own helmet. Your hands followed his. Slowly, his face was revealed to you.

“Mesh’la,” you whispered, taking in a sight you hadn’t known you were missing. His eyes were like you remembered them, deep brown. The crease between them was new, as was the small scar across the bridge of his nose. You stood on tiptoe, pressed a kiss over that crease. He was silent, just staring at you like you hung the moon. You reached behind you, pulled your braid over your shoulder. You pulled the tie out, but his fingers were there before you could start tugging at your hair. He smoothed the end and pushed it back over your shoulder.

“Not yet. There’s something I need to do first.” He ran the fingers of his right hand over your cheekbone; you settled into his palm on instinct. You would have closed your eyes, but you couldn’t get enough of looking at him. He seemed hesitant at first, head almost bobbing as he waffled between leaning in to kiss you and giving you space for a minute. You reached out for him, threaded your fingers through the curls at the base of his head. He closed the distance between the two of you, letting his lips brush against yours. You stayed there for a moment, just breathing each other in, taking in the feel of two halves being reunited.

You opened your eyes, let your hand drift from his hair to his cheek. He turned his head just enough for him to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. He took your hands, brought them to his chest. You stayed there while he reached over your shoulder for your braid. He slowly undid it, gently unweaving the strands until they were free, messy, but he didn’t seem to care. He let his fingers skim over your scalp, smoothing it back. You couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed, the soft ministrations lulling you, soothing you.

“Mesh’la,” he whispered, pulling you closer to him still. You never wanted to leave this moment.

You were the first to move, but only to remove the beskar so you could feel him against you. Your hands moved to your forearms first, removing the pieces that were also weapons. You went for the pauldrons next, paused as you set down the one that bore your signet. How were the two of you going to work with that? No matter. Seeing what you were doing, he followed suit. There was silence but for the occasional hiss and thud until the two of you were left in the sweaters, cowls, trousers that kept you warm in the cold expanse of space. Maybe it wouldn’t be so cold anymore.

Din took you into his arms again, holding you against him so tightly you could hear his heart thumping in his chest. You felt his hands running over your back, your shoulders, seemingly memorizing the contours of you.

“I can’t tell you how many ways I’ve imagined this, you,” he whispered into your hair.

You leaned back, looking at him again, a small smile making its way onto your face. You pulled him over to the radiator and sat down, bringing him with you. You were facing each other, just enjoying seeing each other’s faces when the door to the room whooshed open. You were sure you were the picture of panic, and whipped yourself around to face the radiator fully, hoping to hide your identity. But Din remained there, staring at you, then looking over to the door. He held his hand out, reaching for what or who you couldn’t tell yet. Din took your hand in his free one, tugging on you to try and get you to turn toward him. Your curiosity got the better of you.

You were met with a tiny green creature with brown eyes only rivaled by Din’s.

“This is Grogu, my son.”

[suggiebabe]

hi there! so um, i've been seeing a lot of tiktok videos in which hawks is cheating on his s/o and getting caught by them. i was wondering if you would be so kind as to make a fic about it? 🥺👉👈 i'm really curious on how it's gonna play out (it's up to you if you want it to have a happy ending). thank you!!

Please Believe Me!

A/N: Not @ me saying I would post last weekend, then not posting an actual fic like a whole week later......... My deepest apologies... but I once again, have little hw, so let's see how this weekend plays out!!!!! I do gotta learn some new music and work on some club stuff tho, pls wish me luck in keeping my motivation <3

Pairing: Hawks x Reader

Word count: 807 > Bad Ending & 979 > Good Ending

Warnings: ANGST!!! Cursing, Cheating but with both a good and bad ending hehe

It was your 9 month anniversary with Keigo, and you could not hold in your excitement when your boss told you could leave work early that day. On your way home you decided that you should get him a gift too, maybe some candy or a cake, since the two of you decided that getting each other anniversary gifts that cant be eaten was just too complicated. 

When you walked into the cake shop, you couldn't help but smile at the memories it brought. Looking over at the booth that you and your boyfriend sat at when you first came here, chuckling at the time he spilled his coffee on his lap, almost getting burned. When it was your turn to order, you quickly ordered the cake you remembered that he liked, and left the shop with the biggest smile on your face.

The walk home seemed to last longer than it usually would. You thought running, but decided that it wouldn’t be good to show up to the house out of breath, and with the cake all bumped around. 

When you finally reached your doorstep, you placed the cake on the floor along with your things and scurried through your bad for the house key. When you finally found it and tried to unlock the door, you noticed it was already unlocked. Confused, you picked all your things up and walked inside. 

Your stomach sunk at the sight of some small shoes sitting sloppily in front of you. As if the person that took them off was doing it in a hurry. You were frozen in place, the thought of another girl being in your house while you weren’t home, making you insanely uncomfortable. 

You walked in further and set the cake on the table. Silence filled your shared apartment, not a sound to be heard. You walked around looking for the owner of the petite shoes, and when you reach your shared bedroom, your heart fell on the floor. 

Keigo was in bed, but not alone. A small girl was lying next to him. And much to your surprise, they both seemed to not have any clothes on. Tears filled your eyes as the situation marinated in your head. 

You stood at the door, frozen in place once again, and quietly called out his name.

“Keigo...” You said brokenly. The sound of your voice stirred him from his sleep, and he opened his eyes to see you standing at the doorway of your room. He immediately shot up from his position with a shocked look on his face. 

“Babe? W-what are you doing back from work so early? You on lunch break or something?...” He said frantically searching for some pants to put on, looking up once and a while to see if you would move from your position, which you didn't. 

You nodded your head slowly, “Y-yeah... boss let me go home early, since I told him it was our anniversary today...”  Your voice was quiet, and he could hear the hurt in your words. Guilt stabbed through his hear when you mentioned that it was your anniversary, he had completely forgotten, making his guilt build up even more. 

“Shit... babe... I-” “Don’t call me that.” You interrupted him, “You cheated on me, and on our anniversary too? Did these 9 months mean nothing to you? Was it all one-sided?” You started bawling, falling to your knees, the pain in your chest felt terrible. It felt like your heart was actually getting torn in half.

“No. It wasn’t. Y/N I love you, please believe me when I say th-” “YOU LOVE ME? THE FUCK KIND OF LOVE IS THIS?” You yelled, the sadness now turning into anger. You stood up and marched towards him. “If you loved me, then what the fuck is she doing in the bed next to you?” You pointed to the now awake girl sitting up with the blanket covering her chest. 

“And you, get the fuck out of my house.” You spat out at her. To which she listened to you and left as soon as possible. Looking back over at Keigo, you wiped the remaining tears out of your eyes and shoved your finger in his chest. 

“You have 30 minutes to pack your things and get out of here.” As you were going to walk away, you felt him grab your wrist. “YN, c’mon let's talk this out!” You could hear the guilt in his voice, but that didn’t mean he didn’t cheat on you. You shook off his wrist and scoffed at his attempt to save himself. “Keigo, save the embarrassment, and just leave...” The tears started to weld up in your eyes again, but you knew to break up with him would be the best choice in the end. 

It was only up from here. 

Not wanting to see the painful sight anymore, you walked out of the room and got your stuff together. You decided you were going to leave without saying a word. The thought of talking to him made your heart ache, you didn’t want to hear any excuse he could come up with. 

Taking one last look at the cake on the counter, you put your shoes on and closed the door behind you. You planned on going to your best friend’s (Asui) house since you couldn't think of anywhere else to go. You moved out here because of him. You’re lucky you were able to make friends at work, you even managed to get a best friend. 

When you got to your Asui's house, you fell into her arms and cried. Understanding your situation, she decided it would be best not to ask you for the details. She tried to get your mind off of things by watching movies and eating your favorite snacks. She also took your phone away so you wouldn't notice how much Keigo had been calling and messaging you.

After a week of living with her, the two of you decided that should go grocery shopping since your food was running low, and you two couldn’t live off of fast food forever. 

While at the store, you two were walking around the aisles getting whatever you needed. As the two of you were walking down the frozen foods aisle, Asui brought up how she wanted to go back and get some more chips, to which you agreed with and asked her to get you some too. When she left, you continued to look around.

A pack of frozen fruit caught your eye, and as much as you tried to reach up, you couldn't reach it. Now, you weren't that short, but that shelf seemed higher than it should've been. As you struggled to get your fruit, a red feather flew by and pushed it down to you. You caught it, and held it in your hands, not wanting to turn around to see the man that made your heart break. 

You felt a hand grab your shoulder and slowly turn you around. Looking at the floor, you saw a pair of familiar black sneakers. They slowly moved closer to you, and you felt the familiar warm brace of your ex-boyfriend. You would be lying to say you didn’t miss it. 

“Y/N... I... I’m so sorry,” he sounded like he was starting to cry as he pressed his head into your neck, “this week... It was so hard without you... please... please can you find it in your heart to forgive me? I missed you so much...” His voice sounded broken. As much as you wanted to decline his request, your heart longed for him, and you just had to give in. 

Tears started to run down your face as you hugged him back. Once he felt your arms wrap around him, he squeezed you tighter. “K-Keigo... I... I missed you too...” Once you muttered out those words, you realized how true they were. 

The moment was interrupted by Asui clearing her throat, making the both of you look over at her. She stood next to your cart tapping her foot with her arms crossed over her chest. When your eyes met hers, you lightly smiled, and she rolled her eyes

“Ugh. You two are idiots.” She walked over to Keigo and shoved a finger in his chest. “If you even think about hurting her again, you’re going to pay for it, bird brain.”

He chuckled at the nickname and nodded. 

“You have my word.”

Another A/N: I’ve been writing this request and another in between classes, I hope you enjoy it!!!!!! When you said I could pick the ending, I was like “well I want happy, but WHY NOT BOTH???”

[orionxcastillo]

full name: orion castillo nicknames: ori, conejito (”little bunny” in spanish) gender and pronouns: cis man, he / him. age: thirty-eight. date of birth: april 9, 1983. hometown: chelmsford, england. nationality: british born, cuban and american heritage. religion: catholic. sexual and romantic orientation: bisexual biromantic. occupation: antique store assistant. living arrangements: lives on his own. languages spoken: english, spanish. (accent is a mess of english, american, cuban) strange history: edith alby

TW: mental institution, domestic violence, attempted murder, mental instability

Orion’s mother left America to study mythology at a British university. It was there she met his father, also studying. The pair hit it off and eventually married, Orion wasn’t far behind.

The night Orion’s mother told his father they were having a baby she took him outside to star gaze, telling him the stories of the ancient Greeks above. He struggled to see what stars she was talking about, except for Orion’s belt - three stars perfectly lined up together. Just as they would be as a family. 

When he was born Orion cried like nothing would ever be okay in the world. The nurses and doctors worried, but found nothing medically wrong. It wasn’t until Orion’s father nursed him by the window, pointing out Orion’s belt to the newborn did he seem to finally calm. The new parents felt the name Orion was fitting, as if he picked it out himself.

Life growing up in the UK had its ups and downs. He didn’t look or sound like the rest of the kids around him - his father was first generation Cuban-British, his mother was American. Sometimes there were fights in the school grounds, or out, some days he just skipped class entirely. Sometimes that was to flirt with the local girls school as they walked by his returning from sports at the nearby oval. If anything he would have thought of his childhood relatively normal, expected even. He did well in class despite his absences, he participated in sports and made friends who would invite him over to watch the latest movie on VCR. It was normal, at least in that aspect of life.

Home life was getting more and more destructive as Orion moved into his teen years. His father was becoming known for outbursts, whether anger or from distress. His mother would pretend all was okay; he was just having a ‘tantrum’ or a ‘funny day’. It was normal! Everyone had trouble sometimes. But sometimes when he was alone with his father he could hear him talking to someone, when the room was empty. He would say something to his father and the man would seem to be in another world entirely, not hearing a word that left his mouth. 

Things got the worst when Orion was 15. His grandparents, his fathers parents, moved in. They used the excuse they were struggling with money, but they always seemed to have a wallet full of cash ready to go. He was starting to get pushed out of rooms, told to go study or sleep when he heard his father scream. They didn’t want him to see what was happening to the man. He was sick. Doctors were in and out of the house, sometimes they would help - for a few days the house would grow quiet. Then things would get bad again, and every time it seemed to be getting worse.

Orion spent a lot of time out of home, he would sleep at friends houses or wander the streets. It felt for a while there no one cared what happened to him, he was pushed out and forgotten. Most mothers would worry about their son being out all night, his mother didn’t even notice. She had a lot on her hands, he knows this now, but as a teenager sometimes you need that support.

Everything came to a breaking point when one night that he did happen to be home he was awoken by his mothers screams for help. He scrambled out of bed, launched through the house in nothing but his boxers, to find his father welding a knife trying to prove to everyone they were all dead. He doesn’t remember everything that follows, his mind protecting him from as much trauma as they can. All he knows is he put himself between his mother and the knife, tackling the man he had looked up to as a child.

Orion, his mother, and his father all ended up in hospital that night. His grandparents came home after a later dinner party in time before trauma turned to tragedy. Doctors submitted his father into the psych ward as his grip on reality slipped away completely. His mother would come to divorce his father, his grandparents taking care of the man moving him to a care facility where he remains today. His mother would take Orion across the sea to America where her family would welcome him.

Orion would struggle after what he went through, it wasn’t allowed to be talked about - his mother wanting to forget it ever happened. A fresh start, why would they dirty it up with what has been? She would go on to work at Pleasance library whilst Orion finished his education through home schooling. He was of age to get a job so filled his free time working small jobs around town, planning to build enough funds that at age 18 he would return home to England. 

Except he never did. Ask him today and Orion will probably shrug as to why not, honestly he doesn’t quite know. There was something about this town, he didn’t really feel like leaving. Ever. Strange, no? In his time in Pleasance Orion has made friends, had good and bad relationships, lived a typical life. He moved into his own flat, even bought himself a cat to keep him company. His mother eventually retired and calls in on him far too often but he humours her, knowing she never meant him harm. 

Over the years Orion has received letters from his family in England looking to update him on the state of his father but they go unanswered. Truthfully, he wishes they would stop, but part of him would appreciate that the line of contact always stayed open. It was just more annoying than welcoming when a letter showed up in his mailbox.

The last few years Orion has been working at For Keeps, the antique store. He likes working there because there is always something new in store, something he had never seen before or a story locked away inside. Orion liked to research the history behind them, filling his time with books at the library or fingers tapping away at the keyboard as he looks online for further information. It feeds his curiosity, making it always annoying when he hits a dead end.

Life was normal, well as normal as you can get in this town (it’s always been a bit strange). Except, well, there was the fact he was seeing dead people. Well, Orion isn’t completely sure they’re ghosts. It’s not everywhere nor is it all the time. He first noticed it around five years ago, or maybe it was longer than that. They would just be there, doing their thing, when a figure that didn’t belong would join him. The ‘ghost’s don’t talk to him, not really. Sometimes they utter a word or shake their head but it’s never enough to know what they want from him. Occasionally they move his things, or things around the store, or follow him around as if they were breathing down his neck. 

Orion would be more distressed over the idea of ghosts if it wasn’t a more comforting idea than what happened to his father. Ghosts meant he wasn’t insane, just haunted. That he could handle, they didn’t bother him enough for it to disrupt his life and sometimes the company was nice on a slow day. Of course he told literally no one of the things he was seeing, they would call him crazy and break his mothers heart. If she ever found out she would have him hospitalised and possibly end up there herself. 

Telling himself it was ghosts felt easier than the fact he was of the same age his father was when he lost touch with reality, that the things his father saw could be appearing in front of his own eyes. To turn into the man he left behind so long ago was his worst nightmare - he may not have an exciting life but he had one he longed to hold on to. So ghosts were easy to handle, for now at least. Trauma from his father? He’ll pass on that one, even if it meant his own health was a risk. 

Orion to his friends is just like his cat, he likes to find somewhere warm and settle. If he’s at the bar he’s in the corner booth with his drink, maybe a book in hand until company joins him. He likes to check out sometimes, go out to the lake with some camping gear and forget the worst exists. You’re lucky if he invites you along, he clearly doesn’t want to forget you.

Orion almost always is carrying a packet of cigarettes, a notebook or novel, a packet of gum and spare change. He walks most places so his car is collecting dust in its garage. He likes to cook for people, as long as you’re not a picky eater. He is often scribbling in his notebook, whether reminders or notes on something he’s researching, or poems no one is supposed to ever hear.

To most Orion is known as Ori, his parents are the only one who would call him conejito, which means ‘little bunny’.

OOC: 

My name is Jen but for less confusion you can call me J. I’m 27, live in Australia, and have been on Tumblr for like... over 10 years. Love me. 

He is open to all kinds of connections, I do not have a specific list so just hit me up to plots.

@phqextras

[pastelpaperplanes]

Calling in a favour - Part 3 - Cops and Mob AU

Bumblebee glanced around the club, a wave of confusion he refused to let fully surface as he tried to focus on his job of preparing drinks.

Something was up, but he couldn’t place it.

The air felt wrong, there was a tense charge to it, it made his plating crawl in a way that had him fighting a fidget. 

He’d brushed it off when Orion hadn’t been in the kitchen making something to eat for them both, he had just assumed that he’d been called in early to take the spot of a burlesque who’d called in sick, it had happened before and meant Orion wasn’t there when he woke up for his shift. 

But now that he was behind the bar, he realised he should have been more… what? World aware?

He wasn’t a dictionary, sue him for not being able to finish a sentence in his own head…

He paused, and stared at the glass he’d been cleaning for the last minute, thank Primus no one had come up for a drink at that time…

He glanced around the club from where he stood, trying to spot the familiar blue face and protoform tight playbot outfit said bot wore.

Nothing, no big blue lips in a pert smile, and no sauntering hips that drew every bots optics. 

Maybe he really had been just called in for an earlier show and was just entertaining some high paying bots in one of the private booths?

No… he could see from his spot they were all currently unoccupied…

Maybe he was backstage preparing for another round of dancing? Knockout was probably fussing over his make up if that was the case.

As logical an explanation as that was… something… something heavy in his tanks was telling him that wasn’t the case…

Orion wasn’t in the back getting a touch up from Knockout…

He couldn’t even hear Knockout over the unnatural quiet of the club…

Wait… it was quiet…

The band was playing, but none of the normal chatter persisted…

No one was drinking…

They were all just… sitting… exchanging glances between their table mates…

Something in him twisted suddenly and painfully, much like what he imagined getting shanked with a knife felt like.

Something was wrong…

It had to do with Orion, his apartment mate, and close friend…

Megatron seemed to have the best and worst timing in the world, because it was as Bumblebee made that realisation did Megatron walk in the front doors from outside, a briefcase in servo, with Lugnut and Shockwave flanking him…

Bumblebee’s optics weren’t deceiving him though… Megatron was… walking funny, a slightly wider gait than usual…

He wasn’t the only odd sight out of the three, Shockwave looked… furious… as much as a mech with only a single red optic for a face could emote… but he also seemed to be cowing away from Megatron a bit as they continued to walk in further into the club.

The only one acting remotely normal was Lugnut… but even then, the normally very loud mech was… eerily quiet… just looking ahead and walking…

Bumblebee realised lubricant was starting to well in his optics, he ducked down behind the counter before anyone could spot it and wiped away every bit of evidence he could, and tried, oh he very much tried, to get himself together. 

The more he tried, the more he thought about it…

Orion was dead… nothing else could explain the somber mood…

Megatron was walking funny… Orion must of gotten a good hit in before Megatron killed him… that’s why Shockwave’s mad… he didn’t get the killing blow…

No, no, he shook his helm, Orion was alive, he was just dandy, probably in the back doing his own makeup, and it was Knockout who had called out sick, that’s why he couldn’t hear the red mech.

Yeah, that was it, he’d see Orion later when it was his time to perform again.

The somber mood had nothing to do with Orion, something else he wasn’t in the loop to know had probably happened and everyone was being quiet to pay respect, a bot they all respected probably kicked it. It had happened before.

Bumblebee was interrupted from his musings when a familiar face sat down on the opposite side of the bar from him, more accurately, a set of familiar faces.

“The usual Blitzy?” Bumblebee enquired, already setting down the glass he’d been cleaning to get one of the proper shape to fit Blitzwings prefered order.

The currently red-faced mech growled an affirmation and went back to glaring death at the bar between them. Bumblebee had been around here enough to know this wasn’t Blitzwing’s first drink of the night, if it was, it would have been the icy blue face that was glaring at him, and not red at the counter. 

At least Blitzwing was in his normal irritable state.

Bumblebee finished prepping the drink and slid it across the counter to him, adding the drink to the mechs tab. 

The whole thing was gone in one big gulp.

Bumblebee wanted to whistle, that drink had the kick to floor some mechs.

The glass came back down on the counter and Bumblebee took that as orders to refill it. 

He did, again, and again, four more times until the red face switched out with random. “Hiya Bellow Yot!” The random face paused, then laughed at his own butchering of words, evidently overcharged. 

Bumblebee spotted one or two bots looking over to Blitzwing with put off looks, before electing to ignore the random faces antics, so long as he only really bothered the bartender, it was none of their problems. 

Random tapped the counter and held up two digits. “Vun more…” 

Bumblebee frowned, he didn’t like serving to Random, one, he did a weird thing with that really long glossa to the glass and it was always a bit unnerving having to wash it after, two, Random was… well… random when drunk, and he really, really didn’t want to get on Megatron’s bad side because he let Random get drunk enough to start a fight in the club.

Decision made, he spoke. “No can do Blitzy, you’ve already had enough, I doubt you wanna pay off anymore of a tab than you already got.”

It was always a smaller reaction when he didn’t make the alcohol intake the problem. 

Random pouted, crossed his arms and fumed for a moment, before perking up and leaning over the counter. “Vut I’m in moaning!”

Bumblebee felt his optic ridges try to vacate his helm; they were going so high. “You’re… what?”

Random frowned, leaned in. “Vhy aren’t zu in moaning too? I vought he lived with you!”

Oh… oh that was not something Bumblebee wanted to hear, all the worries he’d been trying very hard to shove down so he could work came rushing back to the forefront of his mind.

Random seemed to somehow be coherent enough to notice. “Ou… ou zou didn’ know! Megatron… zust got vack… from takin’ Orion… to tha docks.”

Bumblebee swore someone tore the floor out from under him at the moment. 

He dropped down behind the counter, crawled into one of the cubby holes that was empty, and just curled up and rocked on his aft, not caring if the seat of his suit was ditied by whatever had built up under there.

The docks…

Megatron had taken Orion to the docks.

Orion was dead…

Orion was probably floating face down and dead on the surface, if not weighed down with cement shoes at the bottom… probably beaten to the point of not being recogniseable… or riddle with bullet holes he’s practically falling apart...

He wanted to be sick…

His tanks churned and heaved but nothing came out.

He hadn’t had any energon since that morning… he hadn’t refueled when he woke up for his evening shift… because Orion hadn’t reminded him.

He hadn’t reminded him because he was being taken to the docks to be… be murdered…

At somepoint Random had gotten behind the bar, and was now crouching next to his not so secret cubby hole, frown on the normal jagged face.

The much larger goon hiccuped once, then reached out and coaxed Bumblebee’s curled up form out, and into a somewhat tight hug as the larger mech shifted his legs about to sit properly with the much smaller bartender in his lap.

From there, he just carefully patted the helm of the yellow and black mech, much like one would a youngling or a turbo hound pup spooked by a crack of lightning during an acid storm.

No one was really coming to the bar for drinks that night… so no one cared the bartender for the shift was now out of commision.

Everyone just, stayed in silence and tried to ignore the anguished sobbing now trickling out from behind the bar counter.

----

The Polaris - Primary Med Bay, floor seventeen

Optimus groaned as his optics opened to the low light of the room he was in.

He wasn’t sure exactly what caused him to rouse, but he had a suspicion it had to do with whatever it was that was poking him in the cheek repeatedly.

“Hey Ma! He’s wakin’ up!”

“Ma! Get yah aft in gear!”

“Ay ay, ah hear yah yah heathens, Frenzy! Stop poking tha mech!”

A weight was suddenly lifted off his shoulder and the poking stopped, he looked over and barely had his optics focused enough to realise there were three bots with him.

Two younglings no taller than Bumblebee’s hips, and a much larger rather banged up and scuffed up purple femme in tattered attire he’d seen on bots fresh out of the energon mines.

The femme was holding the purple youngling, while a black and red one, identical twins he noted, continued to stare him down with a lopsided pout from where he was kneeling juist to his side on the berth he was laying flat on.

The femmed seemed to notice, as she promptly plucked the black and red mech up by the scruff, moving him to perch on her wide hip like the other one, Frenzy already was.

That was when he spotted the extra limbs.

Two arms, made of gears, pulleys and other such mechanisms seemed to be riveted into her sides, coming out of a second pair of sleeves just over the tattered dungarees she wore, both arms were being used to keep the two younglings where they were as she looked him over, her helm tilted from left to right as unnervingly focused optics looked him over.

Optimus noted that her frame, on top of being covered in grime and soot, also had a number of cracks on it, stapled shut along the jagged edges to keep them shut. 

Had a medic even tried to weld them shut?

“Ummm…” He mumbled.

The femme’s optics widened a bit as her helm jerked back slightly, surprised he’d actually said something. “Ai, sorry, guess yah were expectin’ ah medic tah be waitin’ for yah tah wake up, huh?” Optimus tried to keep up with what she was saying, but the accent and fast pace she spoke in was a little hard to follow with his processor still getting back into gear.

He pushed himself up to sit and looked around, confusion really starting to take over. “Where… where am I?”

The femme tilted her helm to the side, the black and red one looked up to her. “Neb didn’ say nothin’ abou’ bangin’ his helm? Right?”

The femmed hummed and shrugged to the youngling before turning back to Optimus. “Nah she didn’ Rumble… Yah in tha main med-bay ah tha Polaris, yah collapsed from shock and Dust, our chief medic, told me an’ mah youngun’s tah keep an optic on yah while she’s operatin’ on a patient.” She gestured with one of her actual arms to a door not far down the ward with ‘surgery’ labelled above. 

That… made some sense… memories were coming back now… the small blue femme who’d taken him onto the ship and told him he worked for her now… after kicking Megatron between the legs…

Something told him that image was going to be forever burned into his memory banks, and he had to let himself have a small chuckle at the thought.

A servo with some rather intimidating claws tipping the digits was offered to him. “Ah’m Shrike, Chief Engineer, sorry if me an mah young’uns are a bit… filthy, Dust asked if we could keep an optic on yah righ’ afta we got done with fixing an issue on one of tha main fuel lines, slagger was clogged… gonna be sendin’ ah rather vocal condemnation of the docks feul supply when ah get tha time.”

He took the servo, and carefully shook it. “Um… I’m Ori-” 

He was cut off by an unholy screeching sound coming from the surgery room.

His helm snapped around to stare at the door in shock. 

Shrike just chuckled, Optimus swore he heard some mania in it. “Ah don’ min’ tha, Dust’s just found her punchin’ bag fah tha day. KICK IT’S AFT DUST!”

“YEAH! SNAP IT’S NECK!” The one called Frenzy shouted after, making a gesture that was obviously him acting out just such a motion. 

Optimus felt his optics go wide as the sounds of what had to be a double barrel shotgun going off came from the surgery room, his jaw dropping in horror.

What kind of medic brought a shotgun to active surgery?!

Shrike glanced at him and noticed his distress. “Ah… maybe we should start with that tour yah gonna need.” She offered her free servo. “Think yah can walk on yah own power?” She remarked.

He glanced between the offered servo and the surgery doors where the unholy screeching and more gun fire was coming from.

He re-took the servo and let her help him get his pedes under him.

Just in time for him to look back to the door and watch as a massvie white and red femme, the aforementioned Medic Dust, to come flying backwards through the door, crashing into the opposite wall, leaving a sizeable crater in the wall, some of which clattered to the ground around her, one bouncing off the side of the red painted plate on the side of her helm. 

Shrike laughed, showing no concern at all for the fact the chief medic had apparently just been bodily thrown into a wall. “Slagger putting up a good fight Dust?”

The femme didn’t even answer, wiping a trail of energon from her mouth as she glared from behind a medical visor at the now burst open surgery doors, she pushed herself up, dropped the shotgun, and pulled out two machettes from inside her green gunk stained white doctors coat, she was charged back at the door with a Primus be damned war cry, just as a massive organic tentacle with a mouth full of jagged teeth at the end burst out of the surgery to meet her, still screeching. One of the machetes met the green thrashing thing and more of the green stuff sprayed out like a severed hose pipe.

Shrike’s servo wrapped around his wrist and tugged him back. “C’mon, Dust’s ain’ free tah chat right now.” 

How… how was this femme, with younglings still on her hips, so unaffected by.... that monster, that was in the other room?!

“What… what was that?!” He exclaimed as the medical ward doors slid shut behind them, silencing the cacophony that was coming from inside. 

Shrike just chuckled. “Ah just ah liiiiittle parasite, Dust’s been trackin’ down everyone infected along with her medical crew and killing tha slaggers before they can replicate anymore than they already have… you don’ recharge with yah mouth open do yah?”

Optimus felt his lower lip quiver a bit. “I… I wanna go home now… please?”

Shrike gave him a pitying smile and patted his broad shoulder. “Ah know this is all very new, an’ ah know yah got no tolerance fah tha bull slag tha’ happens on this ship, bu’ wha’ ah can say, is we’re gonna take good care of yah, okay?” One of her servos moved to pat the black and red youngling, Rumble’s helm. “Don’t worry, time flies on this ship, we’ll be back on Cybertron again before yah know it.”

He felt his spark sink. “Will… will I be able to call my friends? I didn’t have time to tell them anything… didn’t know what was going on either…”

Shrike’s optics widened in alarm. “Wait.. really? Bucket helm didn’t give yah any time tah prep for tha transfer?!”

He shook his helm and she snarled, before he knew what was happening her un-occupied arms were thrown over his shoulders and he was pulled into a surprisingly tight hug. 

“Next time we’re on Cybertron, I’m gonna give that slagger a piece of mah processor, but tha’s for another cycle, right now, we gotta see if we can get you in contact with yah buds okay?” 

He nodded, not sure what to do when the purple one, Frenzy, clambered up his carrier and perched himself on her shoulder to be at optic height with them both.

“Ma, yah think tha Captain recorded herself kicking him in tha spike?”

Shrike chuckled into Optimus shoulder. “Knowin’ her, probably, but lets focus on givin’ this young lad here a tour first ai?”

Both younglings nodded, and she released him from the hug, giving him a reassuring smile and another pat on the shoulder. 

Optimus couldn’t help but smile, and offered his servo. “Pax, Orion Pax.” 

Shrike chuckled and retook his servo. “Mah pleasure, c’mon, let’s get this tour on the road!”

He let her pull him along, her sons glancing back at him every so often and acting as the announcers of everything they passed, as well as telling many a, what he hoped, tall tale about something or other that had happened in that specific corridor, corner, door way… ceiling vent? 

They passed a couple bots as they went, all of them pausing to salute at Shrike, and then give him curious looks as they spotted him too. 

“Don’ mind them, yah tha first fresh face we’ve had in ah while, yall get tah no them eventually!” Frenzy chirped up, grinning and showing off his bucked denta. 

‘Cute.’ Optimus mused. 

Things certainly never got any less interesting in his life it seemed.

Maybe he’d actually enjoy this…

Sentinel certainly wasn’t gonna be able to hound him here…

He froze in his pace, Shrike jerked to a sudden stop in front of him, and looked back to him in alarm. “Orion? Yah all righ’?”

“Uh… yeah… just realised that… some bots back on Cybertron can’t get at me no more.”

Shrike seemed to light up at that. “Wonderful! Yah clicking why yah here! Ha! Alrigh’, let’s get movin’ again! Next stop, tha main entertainment hall! That’s where yah’ll be workin’ once we’ve got yah up tah speed ah course!”

He let her pull him along again, and sent a smile to Rumble and Frenzy whenever they looked back at him to provide more titbits of information.

Yup, things were definitely gonna be interesting.

He just hoped he’d be able to get a hold of his friends soon so that he could let them know he’s fine. 

They probably hadn’t even realised he was gone…

Frenzy babbling excitedly about something that sounded rather scandalous, something a youngling really shouldn’t know about, brought his attention back to the present.

“I’m sorry, someone was found with a what in their where in that closet?! And were only found out because two other bots wanted to use that closet?!”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 29

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 29: Kate tells her truth

            Francis Lynch was a wreck. She could barely stand or hold her head up and it had been three hours since the police had left. Three hours since one of the detectives informed her of her husband’s accident. In the wee hours of the morning, Ryan Lynch, drunk as a skunk, had fallen into the Boston Harbor and drowned.

            “What am I going to do?” She wailed from her seat at the kitchen table. Her head was in her hands.

            Her eighteen-year-old daughter was sitting on the floor, her knees tucked to her chest. “It’ll be alright, mom.” She said quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her father was never the person he was meant to be. He worked twelve hours a day then spent his free time in the pub. He was never particularly loving toward his only child. After all, she was simply a mistake in his eyes. Young and reckless, he got Francis pregnant and his Catholic father guilted them into marriage.

            But Kate was still sad. She still loved him.

            “It won’t be alright!” Francis cried. “We’ll lose the apartment, we’ll lose everything!”

            “No, we won’t.” Kate stood up shakily and tried to comfort her mother. “I promise we’ll be alright.”

~~~~~ 

            “I worked to help pay the bills and to pay my neighbor for ballet lessons,” Kate explained. She sat down on the bed as she started to explain everything, she had lied to him about. “My mom worked too but my father brought in the most money.”

            Tommy wasn’t sure he expected the story to go so far back. In his experience, the farther back a story went, the more lies there were. But he tried to keep an open mind, she was being honest with him even if he was hesitant about it.

            “When my father died, we would’ve become homeless in a couple of months.”

            Tommy frowned. “You didn’t tell me your father died.” As far as the story went, or at least the one he was led to believe, Kate’s father was the reason for all of her troubles. Someone who was caught up in the American mafia, who placed all the burden on Kate.

            “Just, just listen.”

            He nodded and went to sit beside her on the bed. The last thing he wanted was for a confrontation so soon after reuniting with her. That’s why he had wanted to at least delay the truth. But he also didn’t want her to feel guilty either.

            “I’d known Frank Wallace and his brother Steve for a long time. They were already established as the Gustin Gang by that point and they controlled most of South Boston. I met Frank through my neighbor who taught me lessons. He had helped her rent and legal issues. So, I went to him after my father died.”

~~~ 

            “Girl like you shouldn’t be dealing in those sorta things, Katie,” Frank warned.

            They were at one of the bars the Wallace brothers owned. One of the places Kate’s father frequented. Kate looked around the place, wondering if this was the last place her father had been before he left and fell into the Harbor.

            “I don’t think I have a choice.” She replied quietly.

            “I’ll help you find a good job with better pay.” He assured her. “Don’t worry about your landlord either, I’ll pay him a visit if he gives you trouble ‘bout the rent.”

            To anyone else, it would’ve sounded like the perfect scenario. Having friends in gangs sometimes had its perks. But Kate shook her head. “I don’t want that, Frankie. You know how long I’ve been training to dance. I’m not going to give that up so I can work myself to death like…” She paused. “Whatever.”

            Frank tapped his knuckles on the table. “But to get into shit like bootlegging? You’re only gonna bring yourself more troubles.”

            “It’s what I want to do. I can do this and have enough money to take care of my mom. Meanwhile, I can hopefully get into a ballet company. Then over time, I might make more from dancing.”

            The older man sighed. “I know that I can’t fucking do anything to change your mind. But you need to know that this shit isn’t something you can walk away from. Not a little side job you can drop whenever you want.”

            “I know.”

~~~

            “I used my father’s identity to set it all up. I started to facilitate shipments from Europe to get liquor into Boston and then ship it all over the country. I put any debts in my father’s name and Frank helped me deal with anyone so nothing would be traced back to me.”

            Tommy wasn’t surprised that she had managed to create a bootlegging empire. Kate was certainly clever enough to get the job done. He was just unsure why she hadn’t confessed that to him when they initially met. But he wanted to hear her out so he nodded for her to continue.         

            “I was accepted into the Boston ballet company and began dancing. It became so much easier after that. I started to meet people who were higher up in the city. Rich people, people who wanted things done. Only the wealthiest knew who I really was. Everyone else thought it was my father in control.”

 ~~~

            “That was a beautiful performance, Miss Lynch.”

            “Oh, Mr. Weld,” Kate startled as she left the theatre through the backstage door. “I didn’t see you there.”

            The wealthy businessman was standing by his expensive, neatly polished car parked in the back alley. Mr. Weld was dressed in a tuxedo, demonstrating that he had seen the ballet performance that had just ended.

            “Let me drive you home.” He offered, opening the car door for her.

            “That would be kind, thank you.” Kate had no qualms about getting into his car. She was armed with a pistol and even then she doubted the man would attack her. She was far too valuable.

            “I do appreciate your work, Kathleen but I came here to voice some concerns.” Mr. Weld said as he got into the car and started it up.

            “By all means, tell me what you’re worried about.”

            The man sighed anxiously. “I understand you’ve been branching out to Chicago, selling to their bars. Word is you’ve gathered a few men there who act on your behalf.”

            “I don’t give out names of people I work with,” Kate replied calmly. “What I do in Chicago won’t affect my business with your bars, Mr. Weld. You’ll get shipments and protection as long as I’m paid.”

            “What I’m concerned about is the Chicago Outfit.” He ignored the mild threat. He’d been behind a few times with payments and had learned his lesson early on that it didn’t matter that Kate was a woman. She wasn’t someone to be messed with.

            Kate bit her tongue. The Chicago Outfit was frightening to anyone, but she didn’t show fear. “There’s no reason for concern.”

            “Pardon my insistence, but there’s been word that you’ve…you’ve been disregarding their territory lines. I would urge you to be careful or to even back out of Chicago entirely. The more you press…”

            “What?” She glanced over at him, still conveying that she wasn’t bothered even when her stomach was in knots.

            Mr. Weld’s fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel. “The more attention you’ll call to yourself. I don’t wish to have any ties to someone who upsets them.”

            “Then pay me what I’m due and our contract will be finished,” Kate replied with a tone of finality. “You can go over to the North End and ask the Italians for help. Because you won’t get any more help from any of my allies.”

            Mr. Weld swallowed. “Just please consider your actions a bit more carefully.” He parked outside of the Lynch’s apartment building.

            “I run my business how I see fit,” Kate said, stepping out of the car. “Let me know if you want to continue our business relationship.” She closed the car door firmly.

~~~            

            “I was making money but not enough to completely stay afloat. , I branched out further to Chicago and made mistakes. I was given a warning but I didn’t listen.”

            Tommy had been in the game long enough to know the consequences of ignoring warnings. “What did they do?”

            “They took a train to Boston and kidnapped my mother. They tortured her for days but she wouldn’t tell them where I was. They ended up throwing her in the river.” Kate tucked her knees to her chest as she stared at the floor with tears in her eyes. The sight of her mother’s body being hauled out of the river would always be etched into her brain. The guilt was so unbearable she tried to pawn it off to someone else. It was the Chicago Outfit’s fault. It was the fault of whoever gave them her mother’s address. It was her father’s fault for leaving them with no income. But in the end, there was no escaping it. Kate knew it was her fault.

            Tommy, although stunned into silence by her history, he instinctually wrapped an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. His actions had led to the death of others. He knew the weight of guilt that would always rest on his soul.

            “That same night I went to Santo. I wanted him to get revenge for me. I only knew him because he left me a letter after one of my performances. He hounded me for weeks about a business relationship and then something personal. I knew he was waiting for me after the news spread about my mother.”

 ~~~

            “My condolences, Miss Lynch.” Santo poured Kate a glass of wine. They were sat together in a secluded booth at one of the North End restaurants Santo owned.

            “Thank you.” She replied quietly. It still hadn’t quite hit that her mother was dead. Yet, there she was, willing to negotiate for revenge.

            “Why is it you wanted to come to see me so soon after your mother passed?” He asked even though there was a twinkle in his eye. A sort of knowing. There was no mystery as to why she was there.

            “Because I need the bastard who killed her to pay. I want him dead.”

            He raised his eyebrows as if he hadn’t even considered that. “And why should I help you? You’ve never proposed an alliance before, why would I risk any of my men to help you? You must know that the Chicago Outfit are dangerous.”

            “Because you’re the only one in Boston who has a feud with them, you would want an opportunity to raise hell, and I would pay you.” Kate knew that talking to gang leaders was never easy. She tended to get right to the bottom line to skip all the fanfare they were so fond of.

            “I’m a wealthy man, Kate, why would I need your money?” He adjusted his cufflinks almost as an example.

            “What else would you want?”

 ~~~

            “That’s where the deal came in. He killed the man who killed my mother. But when the deadline came, I didn’t have enough money. One of my shipments fell through and I lost a lot of money. I begged Santo to give me more time but he refused.”

            Tommy couldn’t help the instinctual anger he felt when Santo’s name was brought up. It only minorly distracted him from the bewildering story Kate was telling him.

            “I left before he could get me and ended up in France.”

            “And that’s where I come in,” Tommy mumbled quietly.

            “Yeah.” Her voice was almost at a whisper. Kate was terrified of what he would say to her.

            But he didn’t speak for a long while. He kept his arm around her, absent-mindedly rubbing her shoulder.

            “Say something, please.” She begged.

            “I don’t know what to say, Kate.” He finally spoke. “I just-I don’t know if it changes anything but I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.”

            Kate felt like breaking down and just curling into a ball. Hardly anyone knew her true story. If she trusted anyone to hear it, Tommy would be high up on that list. But it was still agonizing to open up her old wounds. “Because when I went to France, I vowed to put it all behind me. I didn’t want to be that person again not after what happened to my mother. But then you came into my life and…” She put a hand to her face. “I don’t know I just thought you might be my ticket out.”

            “I don’t understand.”

            “You made me feel safe. And if I had to go back to what I was doing before then I trusted you would be able to keep me safe. Especially if Santo ended up finding me.” She tried to explain as best she could. “But I still wanted to be rid of my past so that’s why I lied. Maybe I just didn’t want to admit what I’d done.”     

            Tommy wasn’t sure what else he could say. Perhaps she had a reason for lying to him. Maybe it was enough that she wanted to put her past behind her. Sometimes, Tommy wished he could just step away from it all and resume a new life. Start off on a clean slate without any debts. But the world didn’t work that way. Kate was now figuring that out.

            “I didn’t think I would fall in love with you. I didn’t even plan on staying in Birmingham that long. I had no problem lying because…your family was just another step in the road. But…then I-I fell in love with you and I just didn’t know how to tell you the truth. The longer I waited, the harder it got.” Weary from all the emotions she’d gone through in those past months, she slumped forward over her knees, holding her hands to her face. “I don’t want to be just another person who lied to you.”

            “C’mere.” He helped her sit upright so he could cradle her in his arms. “What we have is real, aye? It doesn’t have anything to do with what happened in America. The only thing I care about is what happens between us here.”

            Kate buried her face in the crook of his neck. She wanted him to push her away, to look at her with disgust and hatred. She wanted him to hate her for the things she’d done.

            But he held her close and kissed her hair. “It’s done, yeah? You’re coming home, you leave all of it behind.”

            “Tom, I lied to everyone. I put them at risk I-” She couldn’t say it, but she felt worse than Grace. She had lied for longer than Grace had. She had condemned Grace for lying, yet Kate had been lying all along as well.

            “Leave it behind, Kate.” He urged. “You can leave it behind.”

He looked over her shoulder, still processing everything she’d told him. Kate was right, he was blind when it came to the people, he was closest to. So distrustful of the world, but those who had his heart were above suspicion.

            They sat there for a long while, sitting with everything said and just getting used to being in each other’s company again.

            “How is the rest of the family?” Kate asked quietly, finally lifting her head, able to meet his eyes again. “Have they been alright?”

            He took a deep breath. Time for some of his own admission of guilt. “They’re all in prison and they’ve been sentenced to hang.”

//I hope this format was okay to follow. I just didn’t want it to be one huge text block of Kate explaining everything. 

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997

Tag list: @radical-gecko @actorinfluence @meltingicequeen @merlettina

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[mikeisthricedeceased]

Ghost Stories

Chapter 1: Ghost Stories

Mando x OC

Warnings: Violence, Language

Word Count: ~1k

Chapter 2

A/N: I’m planning for this to be pretty slow burn, but there will be eventual smut (and a lot of it, if the scenarios saved in my notes have anything to say about it). For now, we need to get everyone together.

Takes place sometime after Chapter 8.

Summary: Toram is a mechanic who’s seen her fair share of rough situations. She likes to stay out of fights, but sometimes, she gets caught in the crossfire. When she comes across a damaged ship and a crying child while looking for a ride off world, she might’ve just taken another step into No Man’s Land. Mando is still on the search for the Child’s people, stopping in even the most questionable parts of the galaxy in an attempt to learn more about the mysterious Jedi.

AO3 | Masterlist

~*~*~*~

He stumbled out of the cantina, trying to turn and give another excuse, only to be shoved away once again.

“I’m not the only one with a price on my head,” he growled to the Twi’lek now guarding the door, “especially not here.”

“It’s more than a price for you, though. A request, if the rumors are true,” said the guard, arms folded as he leaned back against the wall.

The smuggler yanked at his jacket to straighten it. “So what? It’s all the same.”

The Twi’lek shrugged. “If that’s what you believe, fine.”

He let out a harsh laugh. “Didn’t realize you Twi’s were so superstitious.” He shook his head and scratched at his jaw. “They might be sending mercs after me, but ghost stories aren’t real.”

He pursed his lips, nodding. “Yeah, but nobody wants to get caught in the crossfire. Riever or not.”

A loud scoff and the smuggler was walking away, waving a dismissive hand back at the guard.

“I’d keep out of the shadows, if I were you,” the Twi’lek called after him.

“Fuck off!” he shouted back.

The smuggler stalked back to the small building where he’d managed to find lodging.

Bastards, all of them, he thought as he entered his room and locked the door. Can’t even let a guy enjoy himself.

He grumbled as he walked around the tiny kitchen, searching the cupboards for the bottle he’d tucked away, hoping to make up for the lack of drink he’s found at the cantina. He was oblivious as a heavy boot appeared from the darkness behind him.

The figure moved fluidly, closing the distance between itself and the smuggler without a sound.

A spike of primal fear burst in his chest as its gloved hand suddenly grasped him by the hair.

There was no time to call out, no time to fight back, no time to even register the press of the blade before his life simply ceased.

The smuggler’s body thudded dully onto the floor. His head remained suspended in the figure’s grip before being neatly slipped into a thick, stained bag at its belt.

~*~*~*~

Nal Hutta was a reeking pit of a planet and Toram hated every second that she was there. Unfortunately, with the amount of smugglers and mercenaries that landed their damaged ships there on a regular basis, there was good work to be found for a mechanic.

Despite the credits, she was more than ready to leave.

She stalked into the local cantina for one last meal before she’d try to hitch a ride offworld.

“And it ripped his arm clean off, slicing his buddy open across the belly with its durasteel claws!” Davro was exclaiming as she walked in, holding up his curled fingers and baring his teeth.

Toram rolled her eyes.

Davro spotted her, hopping up from his seat and calling after her.

She looked down at him as he appeared next to her at the bar, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

He leaned close, a giddy expression on his face. “Did you hear about the smuggler who went missing the other day? They kicked him out of here because rumors say that somebody sent the Riever after him. He didn’t show up for his drop off on Kashyyyk.”

She sighed as she lifted a hand to get the bartender’s attention. “I try not to consume gossip on an empty stomach. And you know I don’t go in for your ghost stories.”

“Well, then how do you expl—”

“Mercenaries,” she stated. “Mercenaries, bounty hunters, and assassins. All very real. The real reasons that people end up missing.”

He pursed his lips at her as the droid behind the bar stopped in front of her and she ordered a bowl of stew.

When she pushed away from the bar to go find a table, he was right at her heels.

“What about the Mandalorian?”

She shook her head as she eased down into a booth. “What Mandalorian?”

Davro plopped down across from her, excitement renewed. “An old gunship landed in the field right outside of town. Apparently, a Mandalorian stepped out. If it’s the one the Empire is after, he picked a bad place to refuel,” he said with a snort.

Toram gave a small nod. “That, he did.”

“Who do you think’ll go for him first? Wareq or Ykef? Maybe Pav?” he was practically shaking with glee.

“Who knows?” she said, offering a shrug.

He pouted. “Where’s your betting spirit, Toram?”

“Lost it about twenty years ago,” she said dryly. “Ironically, in a bet.”

It was Davro’s turn to roll his eyes. “Whatever.” He stood up as a droid approached the table with her stew. “Just send me word if you see anything interesting on your way out today. I like fitting all the pieces together.”

“You mean making shit up?” The droid set her bowl down in front of her.

Davro grinned, giving an innocent shrug. “Call it what you like.”

~*~*~*~

It began sometime later. The cry for help.

It vibrated deep, pulling at something far below the level of hearing, strumming across nerves in its desperate panic.

The utter, galaxy-shattering anguish of it was enough to reveal that a child was its source.

A figure slipped through the dark alleys of town, drawing closer and closer to that silent cry.

~*~*~*~

Mando kept a hand on his blaster, scanning through the crowds as beings turned to stare at him.

He doubted that any of the information he’d gotten while quietly asking around town would be worth anything. The planet was mostly populated by the worst liars and thieves in the galaxy. He would’ve found more luck on an uninhabited world.

The walk back out to the Crest was a tense one. He let his hand fall to his side, but kept it ready, prepared for a fight to break out solely for the armor he wore.

When he got within view of the ship, he squeezed the grip of his blaster once again.

The side ramp was lowered and sparks flew as someone welded along the edge of it. The kid sat at the top of the ramp, watching the lights with great interest.

He slipped his blaster free and aimed as he got closer. “Get up,” he commanded coldly. “Away from the little one.”

She looked up, pulling her goggles down so that they hung loosely around her neck, revealing a cruel scar that stretched across her face. She seemed unimpressed, but she did as he said anyway.

He walked closer, stealing a glance at the kid and finding him seemingly unharmed. The baby even cooed quietly, a small grin showing his tiny teeth. He brought his gaze back to the woman.

“What are you doing here? What happened?” he asked, lowering his blaster slightly.

She shrugged. “From what I can tell, those idiots broke into your ship and took the kid.” She gestured off behind her and he could make out a scattering of bodies across the field. “I was on my way out here to find a ride offworld and heard the baby crying, stuck under one of the bodies. Looks like somebody took them out before they could do much with the spoils.”

He looked back to the child, slowly holstering his blaster. His gaze went to the ramp. “And my ship?”

She walked over to it, crouching back down where she’d been. “Like I said, they must’ve broken in. They fucked up the seal around the ramp to get it open, so now it won’t be much use if you want to leave the atmosphere. I’m trying to fix it. Figured you wouldn’t want to stick around too long if people are trying to steal your kid from you.”

He watched her slip the goggles back over her eyes and get back to work.

“How much?” he asked.

She paused, lowering her tools a fraction. “What?”

He gestured to the ramp. “For the repairs.” A small coo reached him and he met big brown eyes. “And for looking after the kid.”

She considered for a moment before looking up at him. “A ride off of this stink pit would be nice,” she said.

He took her in for a moment. Long, dark hair, shot through with a streak of silver and pulled into an intricate braid. A black bandana tied loosely around her neck and a deep blue leather jacket. A belt decorated with an assortment of tools and a blaster. 

“Okay,” he said, walking up the ramp and picking up the kid. He looked down at her. “You got a name?”

“Toram,” she stated simply.

“Toram. We’ll leave when it’s fixed.”

She nodded, looking back down at the section she was working on as Mando walked deeper into the ship, the sparks flying once again.

~*~*~*~

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Taglist

~ Mike

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Aaaaaa another @comfy-whumpee request!! These are always so fun, Morg is such a blessing with their requests! This is after the splice arc, after the whumptober finale, but before the wedding arc! These side effects of having two souls welded together sure are something huh?

TWs: Panic attacks, needles in a medical setting, passing out

Jackson laughed, sipping the lemonade as he and his coworkers sat around a table. It was the first time he’d gotten to join them after work since the fire at the gym, and it felt like a weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Jen, you didn’t tell me about that.” He teased, brown eyes glittering as he took another chip from the table’s bowl and dipped it into the salsa. “You know I’ve been rooting for you to make a move for years.”

Jenny laughed along with the others, pushing at his shoulder playfully. “I wanted to surprise you! Plus,” She paused, helping clear space on the table when the waiter came by with their food. “Thank you--and yeah, he wound up saying no.”

The others around the table winced in sympathy, Keaton shaking his head. “And he was mean about it.” He said, looking at Jackson before turning his attention back to Jenny. “You can do SO much better than some dick in advertising.”

As plates were handed out, they settled back into their familiar routine. This was their favorite Mexican restaurant, the one they went to whenever they all had space in their schedules. He’d gotten his usual, and as conversation continued towards other things Jackson had missed, they started in on their food.

A scrape made him tense, mid-bite. He hadn’t even really noticed it, but when he glanced around, he realized Keaton had ordered steak. He finished his bite, brought the knife back down, and sliced off another. The knife slid against the tines of the fork, sending a chill down Jackson’s back. Fear started to fill his lungs, settling into them like he’d tried to breathe while underwater.

He took a bite of his fajita, smearing extra guacamole on the tortilla and tasting nothing. He felt the crunch of the peppers, the give of the shrimp that should’ve tasted sweet and fresh, how the tortilla tore perfectly just like it had all the other times before. It all tasted like cardboard.

The knife scraped again, and Jackson realized he couldn’t breathe. He could take air in, exhale it, but it felt like it just wasn’t making a difference. It wasn’t doing anything.

“Jack?” Jenny asked, looking at him. “You okay?”

Jackson looked up, trying not to and failing at looking like he felt trapped in their booth. He was pinned, strapped down, hearing the coo of someone who should’ve been on the radio decades and decades before. He had to get out, get away, catch his breath even though it wasn’t a possibility.

The smell of ozone filled his nose when Jenny touched his bicep, carefully, delicately, not crushing or bruising. “Hey, let’s get some fresh air. We’ll be back, Key.” He let her help him up out of the seat, having more trouble than usual balancing on his still-new leg. She held the door for him as they walked out towards the parking lot, and then helped him to a bench. “Breathe, Jack, it’s okay.”

She sat with him, holding his hand. “I think you’re having a panic attack.” She said, brushing brown hair from her own face. “You wanna call your boyfriends?”

Jackson nodded, jerkily, leaning back and tipping his face towards the stars as he heard the phone start to ring. And when William picked up, when he heard that blessedly raspy, warm hey Jack, it felt like a vice around his chest was released.

-----

Sophronia had a point, as always, William had to admit. Facing his fear wasn’t that bad, and this place was nice. It wasn’t a medical facility, technically, just a little supernatural clinic. And she was right, a checkup and the flu shot could only help him in the long term.

At least he wasn’t afraid of needles. He wasn’t a fan of them, didn’t enjoy the sting or prick or mild fever that usually followed an immunization, but they weren’t bad. The soft voice of the receptionist helped soothe his nerves further, any medical scent hidden under the smell of the fresh, early afternoon air that drifted in through the cracked window.

“Mister Bennett, we’re ready for you.” He followed them back, through the hallway and into an exam room that had a radio playing. He was directed up onto the cushioned table, up onto the crinkly paper, and he took a breath--they’d clearly paid attention to his note about his medical phobia.

The doctor didn’t keep him waiting, either. “Good afternoon, Will!” He said, his reedy voice warm with the smile on his face. “You’re here for a...checkup and flu shot?”

“Yeah,” William said, smiling sheepishly. “It’s uh, it’s been a bit since my last one, I get too nervous to go when I should.”

The doctor laughed, friendly and easy. “That’s alright, better late than never, I always say. Now, I’ll let you know what I’m doing and if I’m going to touch you, just tell me if it’s ever not okay.” And he did. Every step of the way, from the press of the stethoscope through his shirt to testing his reflexes was professional and careful. The doctor never lingered, his claws never pressed into William’s skin, never held his wrists to the comfortable, gently inclined table.

Each time he had to take notes, it was through the click of a keyboard, no scratch of pen on paper. "Alright, last step is your shot and then we’ll get you on your way.” He tapped out a few more words before closing his laptop.

William nodded, rolling up his shirt sleeve when the cold twist of fear slithered through his gut. He could hear the cap being pulled from the needle, the tiny fizz as the doctor started to fill the syringe. His heart started to pick up, tension straightening his back and drying his throat out.

The normal, casual movements paused, and the doctor spoke up. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked.

“Yeah! Yeah just--ha--a little nervous I guess.” William admitted, words breathless as he struggled to keep himself from hyperventilating. “I don’t uh, I don’t really get like this usually, it’s--I’m sorry, this is just new.” He didn’t get like this when it was a Daniel thing. He wasn’t sure how, but it just felt different, it felt so much more raw, so much more overwhelming, like his fear of heights. This feeling couldn’t be reasoned with.

Footsteps approached, but all William could think about was the burn the awful feeling of the needle piercing and piercing and the terrible rush of the medicine being delivered into his muscle. “Just keep breathing, this will only take a moment.” The doctor said. “How about you lie back? Here, you can bend your knees and brace your feet on the paper if it helps you feel less vulnerable. I’ll put my hand on your back, help you down.”

One steady, warm hand pressed against William’s back, between his shoulderblades, and guided him down. His shoulders were elevated just so by the incline, and drawing his knees up did help a bit, but he still shook like a leaf as that hand retreated and came to rest on his elbow. “Now, on three. All you have to do is hold still and keep breathing. That’s it, I’ll take care of the rest.”

The doctor started to count, and on three the needle pressed into his skin. Just like that, everything swirled away into vague static and the rush of blood in William’s ears. Then, there was nothing.

A warm hand on his forehead and a ripping headache were what greeted William when his eyes fluttered open again. His arm stung, a tiny, dull ache, and the rustle of paper beneath him brought everything back. He’d fainted.

“Can you hear me Will?”

William nodded, face flushing as he realized just what had happened. “Yeah I’m--god, I’m sorry, I never do that, what...how long was I out?” He settled on, looking up at the doctor sheepishly as he let the man take his pulse.

“Just a few seconds. You don’t have to be sorry, sometimes this just happens to people.” The stethoscope pressed to his chest again, and after another quick examination he was allowed to sit up. “Do you have someone here to pick you up?”

“No, no I just...took the bus.” William admitted, accepting the cold bottle and loud packet of snacks that were pressed into his hands with a soft thank you. “I can call my--my friend though, and I can wait outside, I don’t want to--”

A disapproving hum cut him off. “You’re going to sit right there to make your call. The receptionist can come get you when your ride is here, alright? We don’t need you fainting again with no one there to help.” His tone left no room for argument, and although shame still burned on his face, William couldn’t help feeling cared for. When Jackson answered his phone and said he’d be right there, William finally felt the nerves start to drain away.

[pettyrevenge-base]

Plumbing Instructor was rude to me, so I let his shop fail safety inspection and get a write up

This happened my sophomore year of high school, around 3 years ago now. I attended a vocational high school. For those of you who aren’t as familiar with how they work, students attending this school are trained in a vocation of their choice by professionals from that trade.

I had selected painting and design and sign making as my shop, and we did everything from house painting and drywall installation to making vinyl signs with our plot cutting machines. My school has a very good system of allowing shops to work together and with the school board in mutually beneficial relationships. For example, I took any sheet metal that I needed bent and shaped to the metal fabrication shop and they also used students from my shop to do things like frost their windows and tint welding booths.

This particular incident happened between me and plumbing. My school had just done some remodeling, which included some shops and classrooms being rearranged and repainted after repairs. Since my shop had the ability to print and cut vinyl, we helped out the school by producing and putting up these fire extinguisher signs, which are required by law to be above every single fire extinguisher in our school - especially in our shops, many of which are more fire-prone than your average classroom.

I was making my way through every shop and was very welcomed by every shop instructor so far, as safety inspections were coming up that weekend and OSHA is always just a call away. These signs were absolutely required and the administration and most teachers were generally very grateful that my shop had the time and ability to make these signs so that they did not have to purchase them and pay another company or take the time and effort to hang them themselves. I spent all of about 5 minutes in every shop I entered, working with two other students to move as quickly as possible and avoid unnecessary intrusion. Even if all extinguishers were visible, we still had to talk to an instructor to inform them of what we were doing and have them confirm all extinguisher locations, which was like them “signing off” on our job so that there could be no blame placed on my shop or me if one was missed.

This job is very easy for my classmates and I but would be a hassle for anyone untrained to do on their own. It involves some leveling and knowing how to smoothly apply vinyl using a halfway tape method and it is very easy to ruin the thin material we were using.

All was fine and dandy, until I reached.... plumbing

My two classmates and I entered the shop, being sure to stay in the area marked for non-plumbing students until we could ask if it was safe for us to put the signs up. However, we were fairly surprised to see the entire shop empty and dead silent. There wasn’t even anyone in the office. I figured that the upperclassmen must have been called to a job site and the lowerclassmen were either working around the school or taking the written portion of their class. In hopes of finding someone, I entered the attracted classroom, being sure to be as quiet as possible as to not distract of there was an ongoing class. Lo and behold, there were all of the sophomores, quiet as could be as they took a written plumbing test. I approached the instructor administrating the test, who I personally knew as I was in plumbing quite often for little tasks, and showed him my extinguisher signs as I started to tell him what I was there for.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt but I’m here from painting and design and we were sent to -“

Before I could even vocalize my reason for being there, he cut me off and began absolutely screaming at me

“CANT YOU SEE THEY’RE TAKING A TEST?? HOW DARE YOU COME AND INTERRUPT US? IF YOU WANT TO TALK TO ME, YOU HAVE TO SIT OUTSIDE AND WAIT UNTIL I DECIDE I HAVE TIME FOR YOU.

“GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM RIGHT NOW”

His face had literally turned red and I could see the spit flying from his mouth. I was dumbfounded. I had been as polite as possible but I was running on a schedule and was doing school-ordered work that was, again, required by the state for our shops to pass safety inspections. If any shop failed to meet safety regulations, they’d receive a written warning. If the problem wasn’t fixed at the next inspection and it was their second time in a row being deemed as an unsafe environment, the shop would be suspended from all activity until the problem had been fixed and the instructors took a mandatory unpaid safety course. Third time or a serious infraction for the second could lead to the instructors being fired and the shop being shut down until further notice. I knew that plumbing had been warned about something last inspection, so it was absolutely crucial that they pass inspection this time if they didn’t want to be suspended and have to go to safety training classes. I couldn’t believe that the lead instructor could be so rude and uncaring about safety measures because I knew just how much he’d hate going to unpaid safety training

After a second of just standing there in shock, I turned around and just walked out of plumbing completely. I didn’t say a word to him and told my two classmates who’d stayed waiting in the main shop with our tools that we were skipping plumbing all together and they could come begging on their knees if they wanted me to come back to hang the signs. When we finished the other shops, I returned to mine and “forgot” to tell our teachers that plumbing didn’t receive their signs.

At the end of the week, we got a call from an very pissy plumbing teacher about not getting his signs and demanding we come “right this instant” to put them up. Inspections were that Saturday and we’d “coincidentally” run out of signs and for the rest of the day I just couldn’t for the life of me remember how to use my plot machine that I’d been trained on for years. Oops.

The signs meant for plumbing made a great liner for my locker and the school announced a hold on plumbing activity while they “updated their licenses”. Every time I saw that plumbing instructor after, I gave him my biggest smile and always made sure to tell him how much of a shame it was that we couldn’t help him out with the signs. He never made eye contact.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

[l-sincline]

Cybernetics - Cyberpunk!Sonic AU - Chapter 2

Amy Rose has been working tirelessly at her broken down booth for as long as she can imagine. Ever since Tails left their work to join forces with the revered hero of Mobius, ‘The Blue Blur’, she’s grown lonely and desperate to make her life exciting. A strange customer comes in one day asking her to fix his cyborg arm, what she didn’t know was that he would be the catalyst for a brand new life.

AO3 Tags:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Amy Rose/Shadow the Hedgehog, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Amy Rose (Sonic the Hedgehog), Shadow the Hedgehog, Sonic the Hedgehog, Miles “Tails” Prower, Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik, Rouge the Bat, Whisper the Wolf, Cream the Rabbit, Knuckles the Echidna, Badnik (Sonic the Hedgehog), E-123 Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Angst, Slow Burn, Partners in Crime

AO3 Link

Previous/Next

The night had been spent tossing and turning in bed for Amy, she’d been too focused on trying to think of ways to get around the technology difference in the arm to get much sleep. She doubted she got the recommended hours, but she picked up an energy drink from a battered vending machine- that had cost way too much, by the way, she figured that she’d be better off scavenging for one at the reclaimed food place on the street she worked on- and been on her way. The back alley was pretty sparse save for the other shop and booth keepers walking to and from their work as well as talking to each other, she saw a few people that she assumed to be just normal city dwellers that simply had lived here long enough to know about the alley, but other than that it was mostly empty. When she had finally made it to the backside of her booth and pushed the burlap flaps aside she set her bag down by her stool and cracked open the energy drink, taking a sip out of it before setting it down on her work table. It tasted of warm strawberries, but it still fizzed, so it couldn’t have been in the machine too long. Amy walked over to the front of her booth and pushed the screen up, opening her booth to the busy morning street. Most customers she got in the morning would give her projects they expected to be done when they got off from work in the late evening, but she wouldn’t be taking any of those today due to the arm. She wouldn’t deny fixing a ProjScreen or a radio though- both tended to be simple fixes and easy money. Besides, it might be nice to have a break from the thing that had frustrated her all night. Amy felt slightly refreshed as she sat down at her work desk and took another sip of the drink, her shower last night had returned her rose pink fur to her, and even though it would return to its dusty purple hue by the end of the day, she appreciated it while it lasted. 

Finally, she looked down at the arm and popped the front panel off again with the flathead before moving on to the next parts that seemed the most easy to remove, the black rubber around all the joints. Sure enough, with a little prying the glue away from the metal and some convincing, the rubber was popping away to reveal more black metal hinges and structures, black wires, and Thuluhide veins. She put the rubber aside and leaned in to look closer at the newly exposed wires and structures. In the area where she had removed the panel, the inner structure had also taken some heavy damage from whatever had kicked him, though it didn’t seem to be the source of his problem, it would be best to straighten out the metal and reinforce it. She got to work on it with her screwdriver and occasionally wrench to tear the dented metal reinforcements free so they could be welded back into shape, and after that she moved on to the elbow where she would hopefully find the source of the problem. Sure enough, one wire was completely frayed, and others were pretty obviously weak. Well, there was her solution. Amy sat back in her stool, but was interrupted as her ProjScreen alerted her to an incoming call. She pulled it out of her pocket excitedly to find Tails’ caller image glowing on her screen. She threw it down to the table and watched as the projection of Tails came to life, knowing that hers did too on his end. 

“Hi Tails!” She exclaimed with a smile. 

“Hey Amy- sorry I didn’t answer last night, I hope I’m not too late to help.” He replied excitedly. Her smile became more sheepish in response. 

“You’re just moments too late, I was able to figure it out after a night of semi sleeping on it.” 

“That’s too bad.” He shrugged. 

“It’s really quiet here without you.” She spoke quickly, eager to keep the conversation going. 

“Oh it’s always busy around here, I almost wish I had some peace and quiet.” Tails’ smile faltered as he looked at something off projection confusedly. 

“Is something-“

“I gotta go Amy, duty calls!” He gave her a quick smile as his eyes darted back to the screen. He hung up before she even got the chance to say goodbye. 

Amy slumped forward, leaning her elbows on the table with a sigh. It seemed like everyone was too busy for her nowadays. Running the booth was starting to wear down on her with a lack of social interaction outside of customers who tended to be either rude or untalkative. Recently she had been talking to Whisper, who ran the weapons shop next door, they became acquainted when Amy had asked to use her wall as supports for her cloth roof and for a lamp, and since then they had continued to have small talk, but she wouldn’t call them friends. Amy didn’t remember much about the shopkeeper on the other side, just that it was a bakery owned by a woman much older than her with a daughter, they had only talked the one time to confirm it was okay for Amy to hang her roof and lamp from their walls. With a resigned sigh, she sat back up again and took another sip of her strawberry energy drink before stretching and promptly getting back to work on the arm. 

-

As the sun set on the city to bring another day to its end, Amy had finally finished repainting and sealing the arm panel and was popping it back onto the arm. She’d been interrupted a few times, sometimes turning people away while telling them to come back tomorrow, other times taking a moment to fix whatever knick knack they’d brought her for a fee of around twenty units. The arm had taken the majority of her time as she had needed to learn how it worked while fixing it, and by the end, she felt smarter for it. She’d heated the inner bent metal structure she’d taken out and bent it back in place before reinforcing it with two thin, but strong, pieces of metal on either side of the initial bend. Then she’d repainted it black and sealed the paint so from a distance it looked as if it hadn’t been tampered with at all. The frayed wire she’d completely replaced, though she also painted it black and sealed the paint again to keep the theme. The other wires that had seemed to have weakened got strengthened with some more black rubber around their weakest points, which seemed to be the points at which they bent the most. Then she’d pushed out the dents on the front arm panel, buffed any edges that stuck out, and repainted the entire thing white. As soon as the panel clicked into place Amy sat back to admire her work, tossing his flat head onto the desk, which just barely missed her long empty energy drink can. She looked out the front of the booth to see it had finally grown completely dark, and with any luck the mystery customer would be coming around soon. She’d have a bit more work to do, as she’d discovered that the arm seemed to have been torn from its port, the wires at the top were all broken and snapped. 

A quick rapping of a metal knuckle on her booth’s front table brought her attention back to the real world. There stood her mystery customer, just as hidden by his massive cloak as yesterday, but seemingly less ashamed of letting her see his other arm, as it’s hand poked out from behind the cloak and rested on the table, fist closed. 

“Oh! Come on in and sit down here-“ she hopped up from her stool and brushed it off before heading over to the front of the booth to shut the screen. “-I’ll shut the booth down and then I can connect your arm again in peace.”

He nodded wordlessly and brushed past the booth in the small entry space left between the left side of the booth and the building to step into her work place.  She shut the screen gently and turned to see him looking down at the arm, clearly forming an opinion on her handy work. 

“You did well.” He spoke finally, turning to sit down on the stool with a dramatic ‘fwump’ of his cloak. 

“Thank you.” She smiled slightly, making her way over. “It was quite difficult to figure out, but I got it eventually. I hope it works just as well as you remember it.” Amy reached towards the back of her table and grabbed the mini torch. “I’ll have to solder the wires back together- did you tear the arm off on your own? That must not have felt good.” She asked as she crouched down and got to work. 

“Not really...” 

“So... was it whoever kicked the shit out of your arm then?”

He stiffened. 

“How’d you know about that?”

“The dents on the front forearm panel were a dead giveaway, you come to recognize kick dents when people seem to think kicking something to take their anger out on it won’t break it.” She shrugged as she continued to reconnect the wires. 

“Well... he loosened it. My arm wasn’t working to well after that and eventually I just got fed up with it and took it off myself.” He relaxed a bit, as if he’d been relieved with her answer. 

“How long did you walk around with it loose?” 

“A few months.”

Amy stopped to look up at him incredulously. 

“A few months? You walked around with your arm half broken for a few months?”

“It’s hard to find a trustable mechanic.” He responded as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. She shook her head and got back to work. 

“Why’d you come all the way out to the outer ring then? You clearly had money to drop on some custom arms, why not go to someone with more rep?” 

“Do you really want an honest answer?” 

Amy shrugged and nodded her head yes. 

“It’s because you have no rep.” 

She scrunched her face up as she kept working. What kind of answer was that? It made sense if he was some sort of criminal... which also made a lot more sense with the not showing the face thing... but she pushed it aside. A customer was a customer, and he hadn’t killed her or anything, and no law enforcement had come trampling down her booth, so maybe he was just a thief or something that the government couldn’t care less about. That made sense. Amy stood back up as she finished the last wire, supporting the arm in one hand as she put the mini torch down. She put both hands on the bicep of the arm and gently lifted it to the connection point, quickly pushing the wires into their own pocket so they wouldn’t get in the way of the arm plugging all the way in before finally shoving it into the socket with a click. She stood back as the arm powered on, the red stripes lighting up in a gradient as the Thuluhide began flowing once more. 

“Alright, try it out.” 

Slowly, as if he was testing it out for the first time, he bent it at the elbow before flexing his fingers and curling them into a fist. 

“It’s-“

“Rose!” A sudden, hushed voice came from the back entry way between the burlap flaps. 

“Whisper- what’s up?” Amy dragged her attention away from the arm as he also turned slowly to look at the wolf that had arrived. 

“I wanted to see if you were free to come check out the prototype I finished for you and maybe get some dinner at the reclaimed food place afterwards.” She asked.

Amy thought about it for a moment, getting dinner sounded great, she hadn’t eaten all day and going out with someone sounded great, but at the moment she quite frankly didn’t feel like eating week old reclaimed food that would leave her feeling sick before bed, and her brain was too fried from working on the arm all day to even consider looking at the prototype she’d asked for. 

“I’ll come by and look at the prototype tomorrow morning, maybe we can get lunch instead?” She offered. Whisper shrugged. 

“Sure, I can’t promise the lunch but I’ll check my schedule and tell you tomorrow.” She waved a quick goodbye before backing out the makeshift door. Amy sighed slightly and brought her attention back to the mystery customer. 

“How much?” He asked. 

“Hmm...” she thought for a moment before responding. “One hundred units should do it, minus the twenty from the down payment for course so it’ll come to eighty.” He seemed shocked. 

“Only one hundred? You figured out a different mechanics work, reinforced a major structure and all the wires, repainted any parts you messed with and finished them and connected the arm yourself and you only want one hundred units for it?”

“Well, it’s technically one hundred and forty since you wanted it expedited.” She replied with a shrug. 

“I’ll give you four hundred units.” He offered. She grimaced at the thought of taking so much for something she wouldn’t normally charge that much for. 

“Really... one hundred and forty is fine.”

“Two hundred plus a meal that isn’t week old dumpster food.” He pressed onwards. 

Amy bit her lip as she thought about it. Two hundred wasn’t too much more than her original price, and a meal that wasn’t at least half reclaimed would be nice...

“Fine.” She gave in with a small smile of defeat. 

“Good.” He responded, taking her hand in his and giving her a firm handshake. “Let’s get going then. Won’t be long before every decent place to eat is filled with loud drunk people.” 

Amy nodded as she grabbed her bag and hung it over her shoulder, following him out onto the busy street. With any luck, she hadn’t just made a mistake by letting a mysterious- possibly a criminal- customer buy her dinner. 

[the-headbop-wraith]

1_12 Contracts

Summary: The Mystery Skulls spend a night exploring a condemned welding plant rumored to be haunted.  The group encounters shadow people lingering and cold spots, but one spirit in particular offers cryptic advice regarding a shy spook that doesn’t wish to be bothered.

The mom and pop diner had been around for a quarter of the century and sustained its self through the regulars and travelers passing through, or infrequent few that come by from the thoroughfare where the line of hotels and motels had sprung up over the decades.  A steady fog of amber sun gleamed through the thin paned windows that faced the parking lot, beyond awaited the road and the distance motels.  It was customary of restaurants with outdated stoves to raise a dull haze into the ceiling, for which the air transported rich currents of coffee, sizzling bacon and eggs, and cooking potatoes.

This old time atmosphere was lost on regulars who frequented these places, the promise of good coffee and a warm meal the only acquisition worth the time allotted.  Sometimes this reward was a ruse, and the disappointed customer would mark it down on the migration as a place that would never see a bill from their wallet again.  Vivi didn’t care, as she had her fair share of substandard meals that were not prepared by strangers, food was food.  Traveling as her group did on a tight schedule and a stricter budget, beggars couldn’t be choosy.

“I must interject,” Arthur began, as he scooted his coffee mug nearer to the edge of the worn plastic table when the waiter came by.  Arhur waited until the waiter refilled his mug and stepped away, before he continued, “that this spirit you guys saw may have been screwin’ with you.  Lewis in particular.”  Arthur took a sip before the steam could settle.

Vivi shrugged.  She tapped away at the computer, about twenty tabs open in each of the search engines she skimmed through.  “I don’t wanna come off as sounding naïve, but he seemed genuine,” she said.  “Anyway, he didn’t really mention anything about Lew.  Just gave us the fetch quest and wished us a good luck.”  Vivi pause and placed her elbows to the table top and entwined her fingers together, and set her chin on the bridge her knuckles formed.  “I don’t think he was from the plant.  He had a nondescript following him, same color as him; like with Lew and his deadbeats.”

Arthur cut his sausages with his fork, while picking up a chicken tender from the appetizer plate set between their individuals plates.  The chicken tender disappeared under the table, and Arthur selected another one in the same fashion, jaws clacking below.  “A suicide may not be impossible to look up,” Arthur says, and another chicken tender goes under the table while he pokes at a sausage with his fork, “but it may be well hidden unless we look for some more specific details.  A date, a time?  There would have to be an unrelated article somewhere.”

“I keep trying the factories name,” Vivi says.  More tabs in the search engine, a few others closed.  She sips at her warm tea and sighs.  “Maybe I’m trying to be too specific.  Er… damn?”

“Freeze up again?”  Arthur’s question was answered, as Vivi hefted up the laptop and passed it over the table to him.  “Hold up a sec.  You got Firefox opened too?”  He pushed his half eaten plate away and set the laptop down.  “It sucks when you got Chrome open.”  Arthur yelped when a loud snarl came from under the table, followed by a clank.  “I wasn’t talking to you!”

“Forgot I was using it,” Vivi says, as apology.  She fumbles with a piece of bacon on her plate and looks out the large window beside them.  “‘The one you should be looking for,’” she repeats.

__

“He’s hiding from you.”

Lewis had moved to stand between Vivi and the other when its voice found them, but Vivi had gently nudged him aside and raised her camera to get a picture.  She never took her eyes off the gloomy figure, maybe as tall as Lewis, standing on the first step of a set of cement stairs leading to a higher level of the factory.  The voice had a thick grating, as if the bearer was older in life, if not in death.

The condemned welding plant had been shut down for years, following its closure.  The drums and machinery left behind emit a heavy vapor of rust, traces of seeping propane and oil fumes filled the air with a thick tar.  The only light source came from a flashlight Vivi carried, and what moonlight drips down from the large thick shutters high above in the ceiling.

“Who… do you think we should be looking for?” Lewis asked.  He looked over as Vivi checked the view screen of the camera, and showed him the figure carefully hidden by dark folds of shadows and grease.  But Lewis could make out dissimilar features, a bald head, bright eyes gleaming, and a dark suit.  The figure looked human, but for its eyes.

“I don’t come here often,” said the other.  He watched Vivi carefully.  “The others, they remain.  I know none of them.”

Vivi waited.  She noted a shape huddled on the steps somewhere above the other spirit, a dull glow emitting from its chest which had a coloration that matched the heart of the spirit whom addressed them.  It was too cold to be standing around, the factory absorbed the heat and expelled icy drafts that clung to bones.  “So this guy, you wouldn’t know his name?” she says.  “He’s a he?  Right?”

The spirit crackled, his voice hollow but it failed to echo around them.  “I sometimes come around here.  After the place was shut down, but even then that was a long time ago.”  A strange sound came from him, a rattle or crinkle, and the nondescript shadow on the steps faded.  “But you’re here, you must be looking for him.”

“If you say so?” Lewis said, unsure himself.  “We’re just paranormal investigators, trying to catch some evidence of unusual occurrences.  Namely, spooks.”

“I see,” the other said.  “Then I’m right.  You should be looking for him, and he is hiding from you.”

Vivi pulled her backpack around and slipped the camera into a side pocket.  “I hope you don’t tell us we’re wasting our time, wandering around here,” Vivi says.  She adjusts the straps on her shoulders and thumbs at the walkie-talkie in her hand.  “Because we have ways to draw out the shy ones.”

The eyes of the other spirit brightened.  “You do?” he said, and glanced away for a moment.  “It would help if you had a unique item of his?”

Vivi took a step toward the steps, and the spirit snapped his gaze back on her.  “Immensely.  Is there something in this factory he favored, or owned?”

“No, not here, I don’t think,” the spirit said.  Above him, the lingering nondescript reappeared, nearly missed in the gloom as it drifted down to its companion.  “I know a few very interesting details that will help you, should you want to speak with him.”

 Vivi jarred.  She heard Arthur’s voice in her ear and tried to answer him on the walkie-talkie.  She blinked, her heavy eyelids struggling to stay down as she drew her face back from the table’s surface.

Arthur winced and withdrew his hand from her shoulder.  “Sorry,” he said, and held up the laptop in his good arm.  “I fixed it, but you looked really beat.”

“So why’d you wake me?”  Vivi pulled her back upright, and fixed the magenta glasses on the bridge of her nose.  She looked to where Arthur was pointing to the plates, dangerously near the edge of the table.

“You are such a restless sleeper.”  Arthur set the laptop down in the space before her, and pulled the top screen open.  “I had to go back and retrieve a bunch of your browsing history, but I don’t think you’ve checked this link yet?”  His metal arm reached around the screens side and indicated one of the non-highlighted links.

As Arthur pulled back the plates from the edge of Sparta, Vivi clicked on the link.  “It didn’t have a lot of visits, so I just forgot about it.”  A shabby and self-made webpage appeared, the font very simple and all of the simplicity of the site gave off the strong vibe of do-it-yourself-or-don’t.  The links did work, the list included Home page, Town history, Images, and a few others.  Vivi selected Businesses.  She took a scoop of her eggs as she read down the page, a long list of shops, farmers, and one page for the welding factory they had visited.  “Okay, fingers crossed,” she announced, as she clicked the link.  She took her last piece of bacon and passed it under the table.

“Remember,” Arthur says, chewing on a buttered biscuit.  He shifted his food into his cheek like Galahad would, before he went on, “Even little things can be enlightening.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vivi muttered.  “I always check.  Last on my list though.”  She read through the numerous articles, more history, she picked some of the dates and historical value of the old factory.  “Yes!  Got it!”  She spun the laptop around, nearly knocking Arthur’s coffee over as she pushed the computer toward him.  “Name. Got a name.”

Arthur rescued his coffee, and took another sip as his eyes wandered to the page.  “Local man commits suicide?  You sure that’s the one?” he asked.  Suicides weren’t uncommon, said to say.  Arthur didn’t like the topic far less than others.

Vivi ordered another tea, before she leaned over to the computer.  “This one’s it because he worked at the factory.  I know it doesn’t say it there – like you said they don’t tell people about these things, but he worked at the factory, and he killed himself there.  It’s him.”  She spun the computer back around and stooped over, to the wall under the window where her backpack rested.  “Some of his family still resides in the city.”

“No, you’re not getting my sausage,” Arthur said, under the table.  He scooted his plate from the edge, and gave a cough.  “Yeah, about messaging between family and the deceased,” he grumbled.  “I hate that!”

“They’re not direct relatives,” Vivi says, struggling to keep her voice low.  “Descendants.  We’ll tell them we’re curious about some… bogus family history.  That ghost said—”

“That ghost was a complete dick!”  Arthur sighed and rubbed his face as he sat back.  The booth seat was so uncomfortable, but after a night of walking around in that drafty factory… no, he still hated the hard cold seat.  “We’re going on a fetch quest, why?”

“Because the ghost we want committed suicide.  And he was hiding from us,” Vivi says.  She smiles sweetly to the waiter when he brought more hot water and a new teabag.  “I want to know why he’s hiding from us.”

“Have you seen Lewis lately?” Arthur mumbled, looking into his empty coffee mug.  “He’s hard to miss.  Fucking scary too.”  He said that last part under his breath.

“Where is Lewis by the way?”  Vivi had two windows on the laptop open, just like her days attending college and writing book reports.  One window was a phonebook with names and addresses, the other tab was left open for the history of the welding factory.

“Went for a walk,” Arthur said.  He finished off his sausages and poked at his hash browns with his fork.  “I think.”  He thanked the waiter as more coffee came his way.  “You think he’s jealous you were talking to another ghost?”

Vivi put her sleeve to her lips as she giggled.  “No,” she says.  “He better not be.”  Arthur smirked and gave a light snicker.  “Do you think he gets hungry?  Or, maybe he’s around food he gets hungry?  Like, does he even smell?”

“Not bad?” Arthur said.  He chewed on some of his hash browns, and winced when Vivi tried to pop him on his good shoulder.  “Hey!  These are tasty, and I’m not done,” he growled.  “No-no.  No potatoes for you Mystery.”

“What about eating?”  Vivi continues.  She watches as Arthur picks up his mug of coffee and lifts it to his lips.  “Do you think he could….?  Never mind.”  She looks away and presses her lips together.

“Huh?” Arthur says.  And takes a sip.

“I was just thinking about Casper.”  She had his reaction pegged to a dime.  Arthur snorted and began coughing.  “Sorry.”

“My good pants!” Arthur snarled, as he went for the napkins and began blotting up the black mess now all over his plate and the table.  “Just got them from home!”

“That was pretty good,” Vivi says.

“Yeah, it was,” Arthur grumbled.  He took the half glass of water and poured some water onto his pants.  “I’m up to get you next.  The scores…. Eh, three and two.  I’m still winning.”

“I still say pointing out Lewis is shaped like a Dorito doesn’t count,” Vivi says.  She cut off a piece of her egg and ate it, then went back to scrolling and writing.  “Only because it is true, and that’s a foul.”

“You still laughed, and that’s what counts,” he said.  Arthur’s pants weren’t stained too bad, a few drops that the water had diluted enough.

“I feel bad about it though,” Vivi said.  She took a few more sips of her tea and finished off her eggs, then took the remainder of Arthur’s biscuit.

“I don’t think it bothered him that much,” Arthur says, as he scoots the tatters of potato remains around on his plate.  “He’ll just never look at a Dorito the same way.  No loss.”

“No, I mean—” Vivi stopped and stared at Arthur for a moment.  Recognition of who he was and their topic source hitting her hard.  She took a breath and sipped at her tea a little more.  “You eat a lot of Doritos.”

“Doritos, Pop Rocks, and Energy drinks,” Arthur pipes.  “Anything to keep me running when the headlamps are blazing.”  He looks under the table.  “Mystery, are you seriously licking the floor.  Gross.”  He stops the waiter and gets a fresh mug of coffee, before slipping it under the table.  “Careful, it’s hot.  Want sugar?”  There’s a bark.  “One or two?”  Three barks.  “Humming bird.”

Vivi paused in writing to watch Arthur and smirked.  “When he’s bouncing off the walls, I’ll remember this,” she warns.

“Lew can handle him.”  Arthur’s smirk faded.  He put some creamer into his own coffee and sipped.  “And the case?”

“Right,” Vivi took a breath.  She scrolled up reading through the historical document.  “No mention of the death, though there were a lot of accidents reported.  Then, the former owner passed away.  Hmm.”  She scanned through the font.  “‘Faulty equipment… Inability to acquire new equipment following The Stock Market crash of twenty-nine.’  Rough stuff.”

“A lot of businesses went bankrupt,” Arthur said.  “A lot of the owners couldn’t deal with it.  Does it say how the factory owner died?”

Vivi took a moment to write a few more notes in her notebook, before she answered, “It just says natural causes.”  She finishes copying down the addresses and sketches out a quick map on the next page.  “There’s not too many, most our time will probably be spent driving around until we find the right relations.  That’s IF the spirit was being honest.” 

“I should hang back with the van, while you guys go harass people in their homes,” Arthur says.  He reaches under the table and brings back up the empty coffee mug.  “That way when you guys get arrested for trespassing, I can bail you out.”

“It won’t come to that,” Vivi said.  She turned to look out the window and noticed the sun had risen higher above the distant rooftops during breakfast.  “As long as they’re not weirded about random strangers visiting out of the blue.” 

Arthur says, “Pot.  Kettle.  Black.”  Vivi throws a crumpled up napkin at him, which Arthur catches and sets aside. 

“I’ll go see if I can find Lewis,” Vivi says, as she tucks the beaten up spiral notebook into her backpack.  She takes up the half eaten biscuit and finishes it off.  “Want anything else?”

“I’m good.”  Arthur scoots over as Mystery clambers up, claws scratching at the plastic seat.  Arthur reaches over the table and pulls the laptop around and shuffles some of the plates and begins organizing the mess on the table.  “Here’s the keys,” he says, and holds up the ring with the boo charm on it.  “In case.”  He doesn’t let go of the keys when Vivi grabs them, and only looks up at her from under his thick eyebrows.

“He can’t just keep running away from us,” Vivi murmurs.  Arthur doesn’t comment, but releases the keys.  Vivi grabs her backpack and slings it over her shoulder as she walks off.  She looks to the other side of the diner, toward the half that is gift curious and jewelry but with Lewis stature it should be impossible to miss him.  There was clothing and coats at the furthest back, but she could still see the wood panels of the stores rustic backside.

At the counter within the midpoint of the diner, across from the glass door entrance, Vivi gives pause and waits for the cashier to finish with her customers.  When the family disperses around Vivi, she steps forward to the cashier.  “How was your meal?” the darker woman asks and smiles.

Vivi returns the gesture, her eyes still scanning behind the cashier should Lewis materialize (literally) out of nowhere.  “Splendiful, thank you.  Hey listen, I’m wondering if you’d see my friend lingering around here?” she says.  “Grizzly-tall guy, poof hair, purple sweater.”  The woman begins to shake her head and frowns a bit.  “He’s wearing these big, dorky ass sunglasses.”

“Oh!  Yeah,” the cashier said, with a grin.  She motions over her shoulder with her thumb.  “Guys in the back doing dishes.”

Vivi scowls.  “WHAT?”

Lewis is in the back doing dishes. 

For everything of him he couldn’t remember the last time he had done dishes.  Probably when he was still working for his family at Peppers Paradise, either cooking or doing the dishes.  Sometimes he preferred doing one over the other.  If he was feeling invigorated and playful he had the urge to create, to bring simple ingredients together into zesty splendor; sometimes experimenting with the ingredients of the dishes his Mamma and Pappa had spent years mastering.  Some free reign ambition was good, other times… well, Lewis and friends didn��t mind eating his creations.

Dishes were simple, dishes were autopilot.  He’d been doing dishwashing so long he didn’t need to think, he could let his mind wander off.  Go back a few years, reunite with simpler times though they may be lost. 

Water gushed, steam hissed.  Lewis scrubbed at the rock like crust of black, scouring the inside of pots forgotten too long on the stove with the hard scrubber.  If the task was impossible he’d fill the dish with hot water and some degreaser, then leave it be moment while he slid off.  The floor was slick enough he could get away with it, as he’d seen another kitchen aid skidding by on his own black heels a moment before.  Luckily, everyone’s eyes were elsewhere or they might’ve caught the hot pink sparks leaving scorch marks on the tile.

He moved further down the sink line, to the smaller pots and sauce pans in the deep basin.  An apron was tied to his front over his sweater, the sweater sleeves rolled up his forearms, and a pair of thick gloves were pulled up to wrap snug over the bundled ends.  He turned the heavy tap on and let water cascade into the deep sink and put a dab of the degreaser in, he skids over and put a little more in the large pot for good measure and skid back.  He took the rag and scrapped off the stains of food, scrubbed the pot clean and rinsed it then slid it down the stainless steel ramp to the next kitchen aid drying off the pots for the cooks.

The water practically boiled around his arms, but it was hard to tell with the thick suds.  He raises up an aggravating knife with a stubborn crust of something on it, and examined the sharp blade as it glint under the harsh phosphorus light.

“Knife coming down,” Lewis called, and slid the blade towards the dryer.  Soon there were stacks of plates, mugs, plastic cups rolling down the glistening wet ramp.

“Give me a sec, Lew,” the dryer called.  The dryer finished buffing two plates and set them into wire rimmed slots in a cart at his back.  While on pause, Lewis let the water drain out and rinsed the deep sink. 

“We’re short on pots.”  One of the cooks, dressed in a white uniform, approached Lewis.  “I’ll dry’em, don’t worry about it.”  The chef adjusted a towel laid over his forearm.

“How many?  What kind?”  Lewis was already pulling a few of the smaller pots from the stack and dunked them into the steaming bubbles.

“Two,” the cook answered.  “Lids too.  And three ladles.”  He rubbed at his brow with the inner side of his shoulder as Lewis scrubbed and rinsed.  He held open the towel as Lewis handed over the pots, plus lids, and spoons. 

“Got them?” Lewis asked, as he stuck the ladles into the pots open top.

“Yep, thanks,” the chef said.  He began pawing at the dishes between the towels.  “Whoo.  Hot, hot.  These are scalding.  Don’t your hands burn?”

Lewis shrugged as he turned back to the deep sink.  “Nope,” he chimes.  “I’ll turn the taps temp down, though.”  He freezes when the door across from him sweeps open and in charges Vivi.

“Lew—” Vivi’s words cut off when the sunglasses drop off his face and hit the floor, one of the lens pops out and skips up under one of the stainless steel counters.  “Oh shit!”  Vivi fidgets around as if trying to pick up a wild, spewing bottle of soda but uncertain how to do this feat without getting her clothing all wet and stained.

“I’m sorry, blueberry,” Lewis begins, holding up his slick gloved hands.  “You were eating, and I was going to—” He emits a brief but loud shriek, when Vivi jerks him down by the collar of his suit.  The lights in the kitchen flicker and dim causing the nearest of the kitchen aids to pause and look up, after a short sputter the lights brighten without problem.  “What?  What now?”  Lewis stares as Vivi jerks her sweater off over her head.  Underneath the sweater Vivi always wore a darker blue T-shirt that matched her skirt, but she preferred the extra comfort of the sweater.  Lewis doesn’t get out another sound before Vivi shoves the puffy sweater down over his face and she begins shoving him toward the swinging doors.

“Your face, Lew.  Your face,” Vivi hisses into his back.

“Ah.”  Lewis puts his hands up and pushes the doors away as he’s herded out.  A voice calls from the side, and he detects a presence hurry at them.

“I’m very sorry,” Vivi says around Lewis shoulder, her voice strained.  She pauses in the entry of the swinging doors as the taller man stares at them from the kitchens interior, between her and Lewis but mostly at Lewis with the sweater sagged around his face.  “He’s got… a bad nose bleed,” Vivi said, and kept going with the evasion, nodding.  “He gets them sometimes.  I gotta get him outside, get him some fresh air.”

“O… kay,” the older man said, staring with confusion.  Lewis thought he sounded like a compact version of his father.  “I’ll just need the gloves back, and the apron.  Also, I wanted to let you know we took some of your bill off, since he was doing the dishes.  It’s only fair.”  He nods.

“Right, um, thank you.”  Vivi pulls on Lewis sleeves and turns him away from – who she suspects could be the manager, or assistant manager.  Vivi slips off the rubber gloves and pulls the damp sweater down over Lewis’ suit.  She tugs at the apron, until Vivi finds the one cord at Lewis’ back that undoes the elegant little tight knot.  Vivi slaps Lewis hands away when he tries to help take off the apron, and instead he leans forward to allow Vivi the range to pull the aprons loop off from over his sweater garbed head.  Lewis doesn’t realize how fortunate he is that Vivi’s hands are full, otherwise she’d punch him.  “Really, thank you.  I’m so sorry about this.”

The kitchen aid waves her off.  “It’s no prob, nose bleeds suck,” he says, taking the gloves and apron.  “He’s really good at this gig.  I hope you’ll come by again before you head out.”

“Yes!  Most def.  C’mon Lew, let’s get you some napkins.”  Vivi pulls Lewis by his cuffs, guiding him out into the main interior of gift store.  She guides him around the few aisles and finds the little exercise is much easier than what it would be, if Lewis was just any other person.  The cashier watches them from the counter island in the center of the store, but says nothing as Vivi guides Lewis towards towards the glass doors of the restaurants entrance. 

People are still coming in, and too many stop to stare as she hauls Lewis out.  Vivi turns to the diner’s interior, scanning along the many large windows that face the parking lot and catches Arthur’s gaze as he looks up from the laptop in front of him.  Seated beside Arthur, Mystery catches his movement and looks up as well.  Arthur slants his eyes and makes a vague gesture with his good arm, twirling his hand at the wrist.  Vivi frowns and shakes her head, she gestures back with a sort of cutting motion and points out the door.  She has only a slight hint to what Arthur had signed, but he probably already gathered up the sum of what occurred in the kitchen.

It took a little longer than it normally would for Lewis to get his bearings together and pull on his Alive appearance.  Vivi had waited outside the doors of the van, as he sat in the back soundless and weightless.  For the duration Vivi would watch people walk by on the sidewalk across the parking lot.  The van was parked with its back facing the crumbling old wall of the restaurants side, and she felt confident no one would get close enough to the front of the van to make out the curious movement within through the large windshield.

“I’m sorry I startled you,” she began, when she heard Lewis creep out onto the back bumper.  It was tricky to tell, but she was getting accustomed to his airless movements.  “I panicked, but I guess I shouldn’t have.  You have to be more careful, though.”  She turned to the open door where Lewis now stood, dark eyes with the bright glimmer in their depths staring at her dubiously.  “You gotta work on not getting surprised when something random happens, or work on recovering faster.”

Lewis sort of frowned, his nose wrinkling in a way that seemed natural.  “It’s not as easy as I’m making it out to be, y’know,” he says.  “It’s not like there’s a little switch in me and when I feel like it, I flip it and change the way I look.”

Vivi sighed.  “I know.  I’m scared, that’s all.  But I’m not sure how—” She stopped and looked away as if something had caught her attention.  “I worry about you,” Vivi says.  “I worry about you, and I don’t want to worry about something taking you from us.”

“Mi arandano,” Lewis hummed.  He stepped over to Vivi and put his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.  “I think I’m far beyond that threshold of being taken by someone else.”

Vivi kept silent for a moment, her arms curled up and pressed back into Lewis’ sleeves.  She listened to the distance traffic on the roads, and somewhere else the muffled patter of the locket Lewis carried.  A frail breeze crooned over the hard concrete and Vivi took a deep breath, taking in the thick scent of the earthy weeds growing between the cracks in the cement along the road, and the old oil baking on the asphalt.  There was… an unfamiliar scent to her long travels, something foreign to the countless roads and parking lots she had visited throughout the states.  The aroma was somewhat sweet and fresh, like after shower rains in a forest.  Or is it more electrical, like a thunderstorm charging across the untamed plains of the open desert?  She takes a tentative breath.  It was so pleasant and out of place, under the rash bake of the warm sun on cool pavement.  She leaned over and sniffed at Lewis sleeve.  That was it.  It was Lewis.

“What kind of soap were you using?” Vivi asked, as she pressed her nose into his sweater.  “On the dishes?”

Lewis looked away from a family that was walking by on the nearby sidewalk, towards the restaurants front.  “Just the usual industrial lemony-antibacterial stuff,” he said, distracted.  “I never really noticed it, I guess.”  He glanced over as the family entered through the glass doors.

“Hmm.”  Vivi could remember Lewis just drenched in the stuff from long hours in kitchen, on the late evening when he was washing the endless cycle of dishes that lay siege on the kitchen.  That was his smell when they were younger and while they were home, and she grew to like it.  That was not what he smelled like now.  But this was nice, whatever it was.  Vivi took one last deep breath of his sweater.  “You smell really nice,” she said, and stepped away from him.

Lewis stood there, arms open.  “Thanks?”

Vivi made her way around back to the front doors of the diner.  “I have to pay the bill,” she called back.  “And I’ll get you some new glasses from the gift shop.”

“Make sure they’re fashionable,” he hails after her.  “And purple!”

[alilpunkrock]

Secrets Out (part 2)

A/N: thank you so much for the love on the first part! It really means a lot to me! 🖤 I decided to make the reader about 22/23 in this fic, I kinda liked the age difference between Ryan and her. As always, feedback is appreciated and requests are open for more imagines and head cannons! Enjoy!! PS: comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this fic comment! (Part 1)

“Yeah, I know.” I said, giving into the look Ryan was giving me.

“Why didn’t you tell us, me, before? I thought we didn’t have any secrets.” He asked. He didn’t sound mad just, hurt.

“I didn’t want you to look at me any different. I had him when I was 17. I’m used to people judging and jumping to conclusions that I was some slut who slept around in high school. I was afraid that you were going to feel the same way.” I said honestly.

Ryan looked confused and didn’t say anything.

Oh god.

My biggest fear was coming true.

He hated me.

I lowered my eyes to the ground, kicking a piece of carpet that was loose. I felt the tears weld up in my eyes and the burning in my throat from holding back the tears. To my surprise I felt Ryan’s arms wrap around me. I uncrossed mine and wrapped them around his middle, letting my head rest against his chest.

“Hey, just because you’re a mom doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all those assholes in your life. I promise, I’ll always be here for you; and him.” Ryan ended with a kiss to the top of my head. My tears fell freely now. “I’m so in love with you, Y/N.” He whispered.

I lifted my head to look at him and couldn’t help the smile that over powered the tears.

“I’m in love with you too, Ryan.”

Just as we both leaned in to kiss, the door to the bus opened. Our attention was turned to the rest of the guys joining us in the lounge. Ryan reluctantly let go of me when he saw Ricky eyeing us.

As much as Ricky loves Ryan and I, he’s so protective and has chased away almost every guy I’ve ever dated. I rolled my eyes and grabbed Ryan’s hand.

“I’m going to head to bed.” I said. Ryan nodded with a smile. I let go of his hand and said goodnight to the rest of the guys, hugging Ricky last.

“Relax, please. I really like him.” I heard him sigh and nod as I pulled away.

“Goodnight!” I said one more time.

~~~~~~~~~~

There seems to be a theme of me waking up to yelling on this bus. But to be fair, I do sleep the latest of everyone. I rolled over to my right and reached for Gunner, feeling nothing. I sat up so fast I almost hit my head on the top of the bunk. I went out to the living to see the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. While the guys were relaxing on their phones and laptops, Ryan had Gunner on his hip making breakfast. I stopped in my tracks.

“Morning mom!” Ryan said, making Gunner and the other guys look at me.

“Mommy! Toast!” Gunner held out the quarter of bread he had in his hand.

“Good morning, that looks yummy!” I said walking over and kissing his cheek. I looked up at Ryan and stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, I went and sat down in the open seat next to Vinny.

“So Y/N, where’s Gunner going to be during the show tonight? Are you two going to stay on the bus?” Justin asked me. I shook my head.

“No, I bought Gunner headphones and he’ll be on the side of the stage with me since I’m not working the merch table for the next couple weeks.” The guys nodded their head and returned back to their phones.

The normal antics took place on the bus as they usually do on the way to a venue, except now the guys had a little guy to entertain. I told the guys I was going to shower and left Gunner in their care, I knew Ricky wasn’t going to let them corrupt him too much. I returned to the front lounge drying my wet hair with a towel and saw gunner on Vinny’s lap.

“And then you put your hands like this, and blow.” He said demonstrating how to make a fart noise. Gunner just laughed and laughed, so Vinny kept doing it.

“Vinny!” I said trying not to laugh myself.

“What! He’s going to learn it from somewhere!” He defended.

“At least you’re not teaching him how to cuss.” I rolled my eyes, defeated.

I stood next to where Ryan sat on the couch. He reached for my hand and pulled me into his lap. I felt his lips against my cheek and he whispered in my ear, “you look beautiful.” I blushed, looking down at my outfit. I had on a pair of leggings and an oversized MIW tshirt. All black, as usual.

“Thank you.” I said only loud enough for him to hear.

“So are you two together now?” Ryan and I’s heads looked up at Ricky.

“Uh, I don’t know..” I started, looking down at Ryan. He just smiled.

“I would like to be, would you like to be my girlfriend?” Ryan asked. I couldn’t help the smile.

“I would love too.” I said.

“Yeah man, we’re together.” Ryan said casually to Ricky. He rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Okay but if you hurt her, I won’t hesitate to kill you and find another guitarist.” Ricky warned.

“Noted.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Once we made it to the venue, everyone was in work mode, running around getting everything set up. I helped as much as I could with the merch booth and keeping Gunner where I could see him. He was getting tired and hungry.

“Hey guys I gotta go feed Gunner are you good here?” I asked the crew I was helping.

“Yeah you’re good Y/N, go ahead.” One of them said. I smiled and walked off.

“Okay Gun, let’s get your belly full and have a nap before the show.” I said once we made it to the empty dressing room.

I pulled out the sandwich I made for him earlier and set up his iPad to watch his show. That’ll keep him content until he’s finished. I sat back on my phone and waited until he was done. It wasn’t long before he finished eating and was napping peacefully on my lap. The door to the dressing room opened and I saw Ricky walk in, not expecting to see me.

“Oh hey, I didn’t know you were in here.” He said whispering once he saw the sleeping toddler next to me.

“He needed to eat and to nap.” I explained. Ricky nodded and sat on the couch next to me.

“So, you have to tell me how you and Ryan happened. Like I know you two flirted, but I thought it was just a joke.” He said. I chuckled.

“Me too, honestly. But I realized one night during a show that I had actual feelings for him, and I got scared because i felt like it was too soon after what happened with Gunner’s dad. I really do like him, Ricky. More than I have anyone in a long time.”

He nodded, understanding where I was coming from. Then there was a knock on the door,

“Hey Rick, they’re wanting us to sound check real quick.” Ryan said opening the door.

I smiled as I saw him in the doorway and he smiled back.

“I’ll be out in like half an hour.” I told the guys as they stood at the door.

“Okay, see you out there.” Ricky said, Ryan waved goodbye.

“C’mon, Gun. We’re going to see uncle Ricky preform.” The little boy rubbed his tired eyes and yawned, holding my hand as we walked down the hallway to the stage. I put his headphones on as we stood with the rest of the crew on the side.

“Hey kiddo!” AJ said. “Wanna get a good view?” Gunner nodded his head enthusiastically. AJ picked him up and put him on his shoulders.

The show was amazing as always, and Ryan looked so good. As always. Gunner and AJ gave each of the guys high fives as the walked by back to he dressing room. Gunner ran back over to me and grabbed my hand.

“That was awesome mommy!” He was so excited.

He was such a happy boy. I wouldn’t change him for anything.

“I know, babe! Cmon let’s go see the guys now!” I said leading him back to the dressing room.

As soon as we walked in Gunner ran to Ryan and jumped up and down. Chanting about how cool the show was.

“I want to do what you and Ricky do!” Gunner said as clear as he could. Ryan picked him up and kissed his head.

“Yeah? We should teach you to play some time!” Ryan said.

Heart. Melted.

I smiled and walked over to them.

“You guys where awesome tonight.” I said. He hummed.

“Thank you.” He leaned down and kissed my lips. Not the first time he’s done this but the first time in front of everyone. Including Gunner. All eyes on us, the guys started wolf whistling and shouting. I rolled my eyes and blushed. He laughed and handed me Gunner.

“I gotta clean up.” Ryan said kissing the top of my head and heading to the bathroom.

“Mommy why’d Ryan kiss you?” Gunner asked. I stood there, not knowing what to say.

“I’ll explain when you’re older kid.” Justin said ruffling his hair.

Oh jeez, how am I going to explain this to him?

Tag list:

@kamariamei

[dark-and-kawaii]

i want to have a wholesome carnival date with all might where we eat cotton candy and have fun a̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶b̶a̶n̶g̶ ̶w̶h̶o̶o̶p̶s̶

This is so pure and adorable (´ ω `♡) *sips warm drink* I think he’d win you all the big stuffed animals and ooooohhhhh he’d hold your cotton candy for you and feed you it.... *reads your crossed out words* ... *facepalm* gotta finish the carnival date with fireworks *winks winks* I left this sfw for now :3 it was just cute and I kinda ran with an idea!!!

You were honestly shocked when he asked you to go out in public with him... All Might had wanted to keep you a secret for the longest time, and your dates usually were at either yours or his place...

“A-All Might... are you sure?”

Resting his hands on his hips, All Might let out a booming laugh, “Of course I am, ____!!! It’s time we go out instead of hiding inside!!!”

With a radiant smile you jumped into him and wrapped your arms around his neck, “As long as you’re okay with this!! I am too!!”

All Might wrapped a large arm of his around you and held you to his chest. With your head buried in his neck you were unable to see the concern in his bright blue eyes... he wanted to give you the world and more but he knew eventually it would come with a price... Everyone he ever loved was always taken from him, but he didn’t want to keep you as a prisoner... It wasn’t fair to you...

Whispering to himself so you wouldn’t hear, “I promise you, ______. We will have a good time and I’ll keep you safe..” His grip tightened around you before he put you down.

“Now then maddam!! Let us get going!!”

You were both enjoying your public date at the carnival, minus the photographers and fans, it was nice. One lady tried to give All Might a kiss on the cheek and when he turned it down she looked at you and gave you a dirty look... in fact a lot of the woman were giving you a dirty look, you even heard one say “she’s only with him for the fame I bet”.

Hanging your head you looked away, ‘no I’m not... I’m with him because I love him...’

Picking up the vibe, All Might lifted you in the air and placed you on his shoulders, his grin never leaving his face.

All Might walked around with you on his shoulders so you could see everything, but one booth caught your eyes more so than the others... it was a game but the prize was a giant All Might Plushie...

Laughing aloud, All Might saw what caught your eyes, “But you have the real thing, ____!!!”

“Mm I know, but what if you have to leave or I see you’re fighting a big badie on Tv... I could cling to the plushie version of you. It would keep me company when you couldn’t.”

“Good point!!! I can’t have you being alone!!!”

Jumping in the air, All Might landed in front of the booth. With you still on his shoulders, he played the game. It only took one toss and he easily knocked down the bottles... and tore a hole through the tent... and the one behind it...

“HAHAHAHA!!!! Oops!!” Flexing his arm, All Might looked up at you, “guess I still don’t know my own strength!!”

Carrying the giant plush of himself, All Might carried you to the cotton candy booth to snag some up. He would feed it to you while carrying you still.

“I could walk on my own ya know?”

“Nonsense!!! It’s muddy out and I’m proud to show you off to the world!!!”

The date was coming to an end... The night sky introduced itself to the carnival and everyone was packing up to go home.

“I had a really nice time, All Might. Thank you.”

“I did too, ____.”

Placing you on the ground, All Might handed you the plush and kisses your cheek in doing so. He smiled at you warmly... god he loved you so much.

“_____. Thank you for being with me.”

A blush crept up on you, “y-you’re welcome but really I should be thanking you for that... you could have anyone in the world and you chose me.”

Messing up your hair, All Might tossed around your hair with his hand, “Let’s go home”

It was late, midnight to be exact... All Might was starting to cough... and blood was spitting out in his hand as he covered his mouth...

Looking down he saw the crimson color, ‘crap. Need to get going...’

“What’s wrong All Might?”

“It’s late, I should be getting home...” he coughed again...

“You should stay here... you don’t sound that good...”

You didn’t know about his secret yet, to you he was just All Might coughing due to a cold... you had no idea about his real name or form... And All Might wasn’t about to tell you either... He didn’t want to lose you and he thought you’d leave if you knew...

“It’s nothing really, I just need sleep my love.”

...

He coughed yet again... And this time you saw the blood...

“!!! No way!!! Look at you!! You’re coughing up blood!! You need to stay, please!?”

His face was full of worry and he was trying his best to keep it together... He needed to get out of here...

~Cough ssss

It was too late... steam was arising from his body... And before he knew it... he was back to being Toshinori Yagi...

Your eyes went wide and you jumped back from the couch... “wh-who... wh-what...”

Toshinori looked defeated, this was it... Looking over at your giant All Might plushie he thought to himself, ‘at least you’ll have that...I’m sorry, ____...’

He was looking away from you, and just as he was about to standup he felt cold fingertips grace his face with a soft touch...

“Wh-why didn’t you tell me...”

Leaning into your touch, Toshinori looked at you with sorrowful eyes... “I didn’t want you to leave...”

Tears welded up in your eyes, “and you think this would be the breaking point? How foolish are you, so much for being number one, huh.” You continued to caress his face with your fingers, “you’re so much more than a good looking body, your heart is what I fell in love with... I love you for you, not for your hair or muscles...”

Toshinori’s blue eyes glistened with tears... Pulling you to him he embraced you and kissed the top of your head, “I love you, _____.”

~ Love Kiwi xoxo