#this is a quick break while current one waits for paycheck

[tokisguitarpick]

balcony

characters: Pickles the Drummer x Reader

length: 1700+ words

listen this is really self indulgent but pickles’ back story hits me on a personal level. tried to phrase the mom self in a way that even someone with a good mom could see themselves in the reader but s/o to bitches who’s moms stress them out, we see you

You sighed, holding your own hand and staring up at the night sky, sat on top of Mordhaus. About three months into your employment, you had found the perfect place for lunch breaks, sneaking out with a joint mid-shift, anything. Up the emergency ladder, around the smokestacks, and over a large generator, there was a tiny balcony that no one seemed to know about and it was one of your favorite spots on the whole ship. And tonight, you needed it for the clarity it gave you. 

Nails bitten to the quick, you had spent a couple of hours pacing in your bedroom before making your way up here to sit in the peace and quiet and really just be alone.

“Doode, what ahre you doin’ up ‘ere?” Your eyes closed. Of course.

It’s not that you would normally mind Pickles for company. In fact, quite the opposite. Something about the drummer drew you to him and between his chill demeanor and frequent offers of hits off his joint, he was typically your favorite band member. But tonight, any company felt like more energy than you had to spend.

But it was your job to spend energy entertaining, safeguarding, and checking on Dethklok so you fixed your face into a neutral expression and replied, “I like to come up here when I need some fresh air.” 

Pickles swung himself over the generator with ease and plopped down next to you, both of you sticking your legs through the wide gaps under the balcony fencing and letting them hang down. “Oh yeah, me tooh.” As usual, the drummer brought with him the stale scent of alcohol and sweat, as well as the very pungent smell of fresh weed. “You know me, I like to be high.” Pickles chuckled at his own joke as you watched him pull a silver cigarette case from his back pocket but his laughter died on his lips when he met your gaze. “Sam’thin’ wrong?”

Your head tilted as you looked over yourself in your mind’s eye. “What do you mean?”

Slowly, Pickles raised a calloused thumb to your cheek and you felt him wipe away some wetness. Fuck. You hadn’t cried much and the cool night air had dried most of the tears as Mordhaus chugged forward but apparently, there was enough evidence left for him to find. 

“Yah knoow,” Pickles started, his eyes trained on his hand instead of meeting your own, “I’m naht really one for… talkin’ about feelin’s and shit. But ah, uh, I can listen?” His eyes were a deep, comforting shade of green, something you noticed when they finally met yours, his pierced eyebrows raising as he ended with a question. 

Your heart softened and you smiled softly, prompting a lopsided smirk from the drummer as he finally dropped his hand. He fiddled with the cigarette case in his lap until he produced a blunt and held it out for you. “So whaht’s goin’ on?”

Taking the blunt from him and then the offered lighter- a zippo with a dill pickle carved on the side-, you lit up and took a long drag before passing both back to him. The paper crackled next to you with his inhale and you stared at the sky again, breathing your hit out like a cloud in front of you. 

“My mom called.” No longer a happy notification to receive, the information turned your stomach. Ever since you had gone against her wishes and applied for the stressful, dangerous, terrifying job of being a managerial coordinator for the band Dethklok, she had turned into someone you could hardly recognize. Cold, petty, always passively asking for money and aggressively telling you how little you must care about her since you were always too busy to call her when she was free (not when you were, though. She was a busy woman and she couldn’t wait around all day just for a call). You assumed she was angry you hadn’t listened to her and was even angier that you didn’t volunteer those, frankly, sweet as hell Dethklok paychecks to appease her.

You glanced out of the corner of your eye to see Pickles make a sour face, his cheeks puffed with weed smoke. Releasing his hit with a cough, he passed the blunt and nodded. “I know that feelin’. When my mam’ calls, I send it straight tah’ voicemail.”

“Maybe I need to start doing that,” you mused quietly. Puff and pass, you moved your gaze down to watch the traffic passing on the various highways around the house.

“That bad?” Pickles asked, holding onto the blunt for a minute as he tried to fix a run in the burn. You didn’t mind, your high creeping up and the wad of anxiety in your stomach loosening. 

Turning your answer over in your mind a few times, you finally spoke when you realized you had been quiet for an embarrassingly long time. “She’s just different now. I feel like she’s not the same person I knew growing up and the person she is now… I don’t know if it’s a person I like.” You had wondered a few times if she was destined to become this woman but when memories resurfaced, you felt as though your current feelings tainted them and you weren’t sure what the truth was. “I just- I don’t know. Do you ever feel like your family would like you so much more if you just shut up and gave them all your spare cash?” 

This time, Pickles was the one who was silent for what seemed like a long time and when you finally looked up, you were surprised to see he had completely disassembled the blunt and was rolling a joint with the leftover weed on one side of the open cigarette case. It was balanced carefully on his thigh- full of a few dime bags of ground weed and spare rolling papers- but his face was angled towards you. “Uh, yeah. That’s all I feel when it comes to my family.” Bringing the joint up to his lips, he gave you a curious look, furrowing his brow. “Cahn I ask you sam’thin’?”

You nodded.

“Is yuhr mam’ hasslin’ you for money?” Lighting up with a couple of puffs, he passed the joint to you and leaned back on his palms.

That was the long and short of it from as far as you could tell, you mused. You took a deep hit, studying Pickles as you nodded again. Your high was hitting you and suddenly, the terse phone call that had been weighing on you seemed much less important than the physique of the drummer next to you. Long, deep red dreads flowed in the light evening breeze, drawing your eyes down his neck and shoulders. Almost always in a dark tank top, his muscular shoulders and arms stole the show, lithe and wirey from years of being a professional musician. God, he was hot. Sure, he was more than a little older than you, and balding just a little, and maybe unable to be sober for longer than a half hour without complaining. But otherwise, very hot. Your gaze fell to his hands, fingers with blunt nails spread to support himself, and the backs of his palms flexed with large veins.

You were only moments away from poking one when his voice broke your concentration. “Like whaht yah see?” Looking back to his face, Pickles’ smirk was now a full blown grin and he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Wanna take a picture? It’ll last longer.”

“Sorry,” you chuckled, the heat of a blush finding your cheeks as you puffed and passed the joint, “I’m kinda stoned. Your weed is always so fucking strong.” 

Pickles broke out into nasally laughter and you couldn’t help giggling yourself in response. “That’s why I get it, only the good shit,” he replied, still chuckling. He puffed then snuffed the joint and tucked it behind his ear for safekeeping as he sat up.

Unable to get a handle on the stoned laughter coming out of you, your giggle fit continued and you leaned over, resting your forehead on his shoulder. You put a hand over your mouth as you tried to relax. Pickles shifted under you, letting your head find his collarbone as he wrapped his arm around your waist. He seemed to freeze like that and if you had been sober, you probably would’ve stayed that way, savoring the feeling of closeness with your celebrity crush in such a private moment. There were over a million Dethklok fans who would kill or die for this to happen to them.

But you were high as fuck and didn’t like how stiff the embrace felt. You shifted yourself to lean more comfortably against him without realizing it, until his hand started to fall from your side. Instantly, you grasped his wrist and brought it back to your hip, murmuring, “You’re good.” 

Pickles laughed again, squeezing you and resting his hand on your ribcage. He was so warm, you could feel his palmprint burning through the thin cotton of your sleepshirt, so close under your breast that it made you shiver. “Oh, honey, I could get you tah’ say that a hundred different ways,” he stated confidently. It made your blush burn even hotter, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Pickles, however, cleared his throat and muttered, “Uh, not like in a sexuhal’ harassment type way, just, uh, yah know… If you were down…”

You giggled again and nodded. “I got you, I got you… I’m down.” You erupted into nervous giggles and covered your face with your hand again. Unable to believe your own gall, you were about to dismiss your words with a quick ‘I’m joking’ but Pickles moved faster, goosing your breast with a bark of laughter.

“I’ll keep thaht in mind,” he said, seemingly to himself, his hand resting once again on your torso. You couldn’t say anything, your body alight with tingles radiating from your breast and your mind slowed, so you simply nodded against him. 

Quiet for a moment, you tried to settle your breathing while Pickles relit the joint and puffed in thought. Finally speaking up, he just said, “Seriously though, Y/N, I think you need to tell your mom to go fuck herself.”

[chibinekochan]

My biggest treasure - Ft. Mammon

Mammon is a Goblin in this au.

This is part of the Monster tales au Series

-------

You have been on the hunt for this treasure for a while now.

Having all the information about its whereabouts, defenses, and most importantly feeling morally right.

Its owner is a scummy guy after all.

This gem will not only bring you some nice cash, and bringing it back to its rightful owner will surely feel good too.

With well-planned moves, you make your way towards the big mansion.

Now you have to climb the wall. You have studied the moves of the guards.

They won't be around for a while.

With quiet steps, you move in the darkness. Only a few moves are needed to scale the wall and carefully jump on a neighboring tree.

Swiftly scan the area.

It seems the dogs haven't noticed you yet.

You want to keep it that way and continue your way on top of the trees. Carefully navigating through the shadows, practically becoming one of them.

Slowly, the lights of the mansion come into view.

The carefully kept garden is now in front of you.

The shrubs will offer you a little cover and the dogs might sense your presence. You smirk. Time for the real challenge to begin.

You take a deep breath to strengthen your nerves.

With ease, you jump from the tree and run at high speed through the garden, occasionally jumping over hedges.

By the time you hear dogs barking, you have already climbed the balcony and wait for clear air.

The guards check the hedges, but of course find nothing.

.

You smirk when they shrug and go back to their posts.

You wait a bit longer and then carefully and quietly open the door.

Your body is moving low and fast, knowing exactly where your target is. Lucky for you, the scumbag has a huge ego and displays what you are looking for right in his living room.

You sneak in the shadows, listening to every sound. It's quiet. You can only hear your own heart and breathing.

Then you see it slightly shimmering, illuminated by the moon. The gem you are looking for.

You calm your nerves and steady your hands.

Then suddenly you hear a commotion, loud barking from the outside. Some lights in the mansion turning on and glass shattering.

Unsure what just happened, your instinct kicks in and all you can do is run.

Light starts to shine into the room, causing the gem to sparkle as if to mock you.

You run towards the nearest window, ready to jump out.

When suddenly something passes you at high speed. For a moment you pause until you notice it's a person.

This must be whoever interrupted you.

You have no time to stay, you hear the guards closing in.

With little choice, you run and jump after the stranger.

The guards behind you yell, and the dogs chase you.

There is no time for anything else but running. You run in a straight line towards the wall. Following close behind the other person.

Once you jump the wall, you have to make sure that nobody is following you. You can still keep an eye on the other person.

Only catching a quick glance at them. White hair and blue eyes. You take a mental note of it.

Your pursuers are still behind you, and you decide to go deeper into the forest to shake them off or at least to hide.

You can smack the guy another time.

By the next day, you are back in your home. The loss of income is a hard blow to your family,, but it can't be helped. It's better to be poor but free.

Your siblings were disappointed,, but you can make money more honestly until another opportunity arises.

Hopefully, the medicine for your smallest sibling will last long enough. Worryingly, you eye the half-empty bottle.

"It's okay, we will work hard and buy more." Ian, the 2nd oldest, Ian, has seen your worries.

You ruffle their hair. "Don't worry about it. I will trade some herbs with the pharmacist and in the bar tonight again." You smile to ease their worries.

"You work too much." The 2nd youngest, Eva, looks worried.

"We have to get food, so we can cook a good meal. I will catch fish for us." Ian is suddenly super motivated.

"Yeah, I will get some veggies from our garden. Rest so you can work hard for us later." Eva has taken care of the garden and grown some stuff.

Your heart is filled with pride, and you hug them both. "You guys are the best, just don't forget to play with your friends too." You feel bad about being so poor,, but it can't be helped. After losing both parents, you are left as the oldest to take care of them.

And you do everything for them, even if it means stealing.

You go and rest for a while until sunset.

Then you cook the fish and vegetables that your siblings got for tonight. They are very good kids. You are very proud of them. You make soup for your youngest sibling, Owen.

"Dinner is ready." You dish everyone up, making sure your siblings get more than you.

"Looks great." Eve beams at the food.

"I worked hard for this fish, so you better eat it all." Ian looks at both of you sternly.

"Thank you both for the food." You are truly grateful to them.

"Will you have to go again soon?" Ian knows well that I have to leave them alone sometimes due to my 'nightwork'.

It can take days to get the treasure and to get my money. Not even mentioning the time I have to spend hiding. Still, the pay is so high that I can't afford not doing it.

"I will have to see,, but currently I have nothing lined up." I know it's hard for them when I'm not here,, but there is no other way for me to afford the medicine.

Ian seems troubled.

"Don't frown, Ian, we can handle everything just fine." Eve pats his back.

"Well, of course, but I'm worried about you." Ian becomes confident, but then frowns at you.

"Haha, I can watch out for myself. I'm plenty strong." I giggle. Sometimes he acts like the dad. It's sad that they all have to grow up so fast.

"Yeah, like the time you beat that bear. That was so cool!" Eve's eyes sparkle.

Ian shakes his head. "That was scary."

"I gotta agree with you. I will go and check on Owen. He needs to eat." You worry about the amount of food he eats. It's definitely not enough.

The others keep bickering, and you walk into the room. You open the windows, fill the pitcher with water, and check on Owen. He looks at you with tired eyes,, but he is smiling weakly.

"Hey there, sleepy head. Time for food." You smile, trying to hide your worries.

"I'm not really hungry." He says with a weak voice.

"It's very tasty. So why not try a bit?" His state breaks your heart,, but you fight through it.

Owen nods and you help him sit.

You feed him slowly. He seems to like it. This is relieving.

At some point, he can't eat anymore. "You ate half a bowl today. Great work." You encourage him.

Then you change his bedding and shake his pillows before giving him his medicine.

He frowns.

"I know it's bitter, but it helps, right? I have an apple for dessert if you take it all." You bribe him with a sliced apple.

"Pudding would be better." Owen smiles sheepishly.

"Pudding makes everything better. I will see what I can do." Sadly, even pudding is a luxury for us. I wonder if I can get a portion for everyone?

"It's alright, I like apples." Owen knows more about your situation than he lets on.

Owen bravely takes his medicine and eats a few slices of the apple.

You bring the rest to your other siblings.

Then you do a few chores before heading to work.

It's going to be a long night, you can already tell.

The bar you work at is a bit rowdy, the patrons are ruff, but overall good people. It's usually fun to work at the place.

The gruff owner is a nice guy, who often gives you 'leftovers' or stuff his wife made that he apparently really doesn't like. You know that neither is true,, but you are also not one to just take handouts, and he is also a bit awkward,, so this is how you two handle things.

"Hey, I'm in." I say hi to the owner, who grunts at me.

I start to clean the floor and prepare everything for opening time.

"Hey, the wife made some strange stuff again. Please take it off my hands' kiddo?" The owner shoves a box towards you.

It's definitely food that smells great. "Are you sure? It sure smells nice."

"Get it off me, before I toss it out." The owner frowns.

I take the box. "Alright, thank the wife for me." I smile at him and put the box in the back.

"You're gonna make her believe her food is any good." He grumbles.

"Don't let her hear that,, or she might believe you." I grin at him, knowing that he loves her food.

He shrugs. "We've got game night tonight so if it gets rowdy, feel free to kick them."

With game night, he means gambling. It's not really legal, but it brings good business but of course also some strange people.

"Sure thing. I hope we get some big spenders tonight." Usually, the drunken winners give nice tips.

"You just keep dreaming big kiddo, as long as we make money I'm happy." He keeps cleaning glasses while talking.

You clean the last few tables and get the gaming stuff ready, it's just a box of dice, cards and such things.

Slowly the guests are pouring in. Most of which you know on a first-name. They order their usual. These guests aren't only here for gambling, they are here on most nights anyway.

Then when night breaks a different clientele is pouring in and filling the tables.

They all know the game. Trading money for snacks or coasters. Some use their means of hiding the money in play.

The owner keeps a close eye on everything from a distance. While you keep filling glasses.

Nothing strikes you as odd until you see a Goblin on one of the tables. This by itself isn't all that unusual, all kinds of folk come here after all. This goblin somehow strikes you as odd.

Then suddenly you realize, his hair color is white. That is certainly unusual, sadly you can't see his eyes since he wears yellow-tinted glasses.

This might be the guy that screwed you over. You feel anger rising at this realization. Even if he probably didn't mean to, he still cost you a nice paycheck.

For a while, you try to keep a close eye on him but the other customers keep you busy.

Especially when a guy wins big and throws around for everyone. Of course, this is a cause for celebration for everyone.

Now with the alcohol level raised you have to use your kicking abilities a few times. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You handle yourself well and the owner kicks a few rowdy guests out.

Finally, it calms down a bit in the early hours of the morning.

You sigh deeply, but it was pretty successful. You got a big tip from one guy.

The goblin is forgotten by now.

"I don't need you for the rest of the night." This is the owner's way of telling you to go home and rest.

"Thanks. Don't make too long." You glance around at the few leftover guests.

"No worries, I will kick em out soon." He grumbles.

You take the food and head out the backdoor.

The cool night air feels good on your skin, you take a deep breath and start walking.

Once, you pass by a tight ally, and you notice a group of guys harassing someone.

Under your watch! It seems to be three guys, all rather drunk. You can take them.

You walk towards the guys. "Hey, I think that's enough."

"Huh, what's that? Are you kiddn me?" One of the drunks looks towards me.

"Whatever that guy did, he had enough. You all don't want to go to jail for killing a guy, do you?" You huff at them, trying to look bigger than you are.

"Aw, come on, he has it comin. This guy is a cheat." The other man kicks the poor victim.

You shake your head. "Come on guys, just go home, he learned his lesson."

The guy on the floor groans. "I'll be good, I swear." He doesn't sound super convincing, to be honest.

The drunks shuffle around. Seemingly unhappy to leave.

"Guys go home. You got your money back, so your wife won't be mad,, but they might be if you are in jail for murder." You try to convince them.

The guys seem to freeze up. "Ah, well, it's late anyway. You better not show your face here again." With that, they shuffle off.

You sigh with relief when they walk away. You then go to check on the man on the floor.

Now you notice it's the Goblin you saw earlier. His glasses are shattered on the floor, revealing his blue eyes. So it might be that thief from the other night after all.

"Ugh… that hurt. Thanks for that." He staggers while trying to get up.

"You might want to go to a doctor for these injuries." You glare at him.

"What's with that look? Do I know you? D-don't tell me I owe you money?!" Suddenly he seems to be much better and gets up. Seemingly trying to get some distance between you.

"I don't even know you." You glare at him. "Though I'd say you owe me for saving your butt." You feel like he is pretty ungrateful.

"Well, thanks then… Umm, I got no cash, but here I got this necklace." He rummages through his pockets and pulls out a necklace from somewhere.

He dangles it in front of you.

You can only frown at it. "Gee, thanks."

"Hey, it ain't any day that I give stuff like that. So be grateful." He huffs at you.

"I'd be more grateful if it wasn't gaudy or fake." You take the clearly fake jewelry. Maybe Eve will like it.

"Fake? You can tell with just one glance?" He seems impressed.

You feel like he has just seen right through you. "It's a special talent." You shrug and play it cool.

"Well, in that case. I could use your special skills for a job. I need someone to tell me what the valuables are." He changes right into business mode.

"Are you offering illegal work to me?" You act all offended.

"Come on, the job in that dingy bar doesn't pay well. I'd split 90:10." He smiles at you.

"I gladly take that 90 percent, very generous." You know that's not his offer,, but he somehow irritates you.

"It'll be 10 for you,, obviously." He shakes his head.

"No, thanks. I don't trust you anyway." You glare at him.

"Fine, how about 30 percent?" He throws his hand up as if he is being generous.

"More like 70 for me if you can't even tell what's fake." You can't believe that you are still talking to this guy.

He sighs. "Alright, I get it, same risk same reward right? So 50:50. My last offer."

"You seem quite desperate. What kind of stuff are we talking about here, anyway?" Now you are getting curious.

"It's an old mansion. Real old money. Real old scum, too. I just want to grab some of their valuables. It's not like they're gonna miss it anyway." He is vague,, but you somehow feel like you know what place he is talking about.

"Does that happen to be the raven mansion?" The place where your heist was interrupted.

His eyes go wide. "How'd you know?"

"Let's just say that I got interrupted in my own business by some amateur." You glare at him.

"Wait… t-that was you? Oh man, you were ama… umm I mean you were okay." The tips of his ears glow dark.

"You should grovel for what you have done. Screwed me right out of a job." Finally, you can let your anger out.

"I had no idea you were there. I'm sorry." He seems at least half earnest. "So that only means you already know the place, and you can finish the other job there too. I'd take no cut of that either. See, I'm very generous."

"Says the guy that offered me ten percent." You huff at him.

"That was just testing the waters, I'd given you at least 30." He puffs his cheeks. "So it's all settled then?"

"No, I still don't trust you." You eye him carefully.

"What would it take for you to take the job?" He asks, also looking for a sign of weakness in me.

"Well, first of all your name." This is an important first step, at least.

"Ah, could've said you were interested. I mean, you were eyeing me in the bar the whole time. I'm down if you are." He calmly shrugs.

You take a step towards him. "You wish." You look him right in the eyes, glaring at him.

He awkwardly looks away. "J-just saying I'm a handsome goblin…"

"I have seen better. Besides, it means that you checked me out, doesn't it?" You grin at him.

His cheeks turn dark. "N-no, I just felt a burning gaze on me the entire time."

"That was disdain and nothing else." You cross your arms.

"Call it whatever you want." He huffs and turns his head awkwardly. "Anyway, how am I supposed to show that you can trust me?"

"How about telling me your name?" You eye him with suspicion.

"I'm the great Mammon. Better not forget it." He puffs his chest in a display of pride.

You don't acknowledge his presentation whatsoever. "What are you planning to do with that treasure?"

"I'm gonna sell it for cash to pay some debts. I might keep a thing or two for my collection too." Mammon seems pretty honest about it, at least.

"With that, you mean you pawn it and gamble." You only can guess,, but his behavior at the bar speaks volumes.

He seems to feel called out. "Hey, I'm good at gambling, just some people think I'm too good ya know?"

"Nobody is good at it, it's just luck and in your case cheating. You should know better than to gamble all your cash." You start to lecture him.

"I get it, I get it." He sighs. "You sound like my big bro." He sighs deeply. "So, this is all you want to know?"

You think for a moment. "I don't know,, but I guess it's enough for now. I'd wish I had some security at least.” You sigh. "I know it can't be helped."

"I get ya, you've got a life you can't just go or whatever." Mammon seems to agree with you. "Alright, I don't like doing this,, but I got something that might convince you." He then starts to rummage through his vest, he obviously has some hidden pockets in there.

He then produces a gold coin. "Here ya go. I want it back after the job is done. So better not lose it." Mammon seems a bit reluctant to let the coin go.

"This coin seems important to you." You carefully inspect it, it's real, but there seems to be some story here.

"Goldie is my personal good luck charm." He looks almost fondly at the coin.

You smile, somehow this is cute. When you realize your smile, you make your face freeze once more.

"Alright, I acknowledge you as my partner." You reach your hand out to him.

"So that's what it took,, huh?" He seems a bit confused but also relieved.

You shake hands and the deal is sealed.

Mammon suggests a meeting point in a few days' time. He needs to heal and prepare after all.

You also have to make sure your siblings are taken care of. So this works for you.

[journalxxx]

By Hook or by Crook (5)

“What do you make of all this?” Toshinori asked, when they were finally alone. They’d momentarily parked the kid in the hallway with a cup of tea while the hero had followed Tsukauchi in his office as he took care of the last bureaucratic dregs of the questioning.

“As I see it, there are two major possibilities we ought to consider.” Tsukauchi said without taking his eyes off the monitor of his computer. “The first is that Midoriya’s quirk is just a mutation, and he is in no way related to All For One. His father is likely a government official whose position grants him knowledge of enough confidential files to make him fear negative repercussions in case his son’s quirk was publicly known, and has therefore enforced silence on the matter. We aren’t looking at any outstanding crimes here, although this man isn’t going to win any Parent of the Year awards any time soon.”

Toshinori grimaced. Wouldn’t that be nice? “And what are the odds of this being our case?”

“I wouldn’t bet my next paycheck on it, for sure.” Tsukauchi typed something on the keyboard, and checked his phone at the same time, before sighing and leaning back in his chair. “The other possibility is that Midoriya is indeed related to All For One, maybe even his son. He’s been fostered to a trusted associate of his and kept in the dark about everything.”

That option could be more statistically or genetically likely, but it still didn’t sit right with Toshinori. “That doesn’t sound like something All For One would do though. Why not raise him as a successor, or even just an underling? Surely another All For One wielder would have made for an important asset to his schemes.”

“You forget that Midoriya’s quirk manifested only two years ago. It is possible that All For One may have planned to do so, but lost interest when the child was deemed quirkless.” Tsukauchi scratched his head pensively. “As for why he didn’t keep the kid close since his birth… we can only assume it was out of caution. Fourteen years ago you had already put a significant dent in All For One’s syndicate and influence. Maybe he was already taking precautions against his own downfall, and didn’t want his potential successor to be involved in case things took a turn for the worse too quickly.”

“... I guess that makes sense.” Toshinori nodded. As per habit, he sent a quiet thanks to his lucky star for accidentally baring his secret to a damnably honest and capable member of the force such as Tsukauchi, God knew Toshinori himself wasn’t exactly cut out for fine deductive work. “In this case, the boy’s father…”

“...Is a former subordinate of All For One’s currently employed by the government, yes. Not a pleasant scenario to work with.” Tsukauchi waited for the printer to regurgitate a disproportionate stack of documents that made Toshinori instinctively recoil. The detective flipped through the paperwork quickly before sprinkling his signature on just about every odd sheet. “Regardless of which of the two hypotheses is true, I definitely want to look into this Hisashi Midoriya. He is by far the most suspicious aspect of the boy’s account.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t visit his family for a decade and a half, he doesn’t talk about his job, he doesn’t follow basic legal procedures, and you can tell he had more of an active role in encouraging Midoriya to hide the quirk than the kid lets on... It doesn’t exactly paint a reassuring picture.” Toshinori sighed. “This isn’t going to be easy for the boy…”

“It never is, when a family member is involved in criminal activities. But the fact that their relationship seems rather distant may make things a little less traumatic for him.” Tsukauchi checked his watch as he tidied up some stationery and turned off his computer. “Well, I guess I’m not too unforgivably late for my other meeting since we don’t have to question Mrs. Midoriya.”

“...Sorry about that. And for springing this on you all of a sudden.” Toshinori said with an apologetic grimace and his utmost sincerity. “You’re a saint.”

Tsukauchi’s small smile implied that he was well aware of the fact. “I’ll drive Midoriya home while I’m on my way to the city hall. Do you need a lift? Or do you want me to let you on the rooftop for a smoke?” That bit of code speak would never not be tragically ironic, Toshinori thought.

“No, I’ve already finished my shift for the day.” All three, scant, scattered hours of it. Japan’s finest, most dependable hero, ladies and gentlemen.

“Then thank you for your hard work.” His friend gave him a quick look and a brief, firm squeeze to his shoulder before heading to the door. No pity, no unrequested sympathy, no disingenuous praise, just straightforward respect and understanding. He really was one of a kind.

Midoriya was exactly where they’d left him, busy fiddling with his phone. He perked up when he saw them return. “Uh, my mother just texted me back. She says she’ll be home in about an hour. If you still want to talk to her.”

Tsukauchi hesitated. “It’s a little too late for me, I’m afraid. I’m expected somewhere else, but…”

“I can wait.“ Toshinori immediately volunteered. “It won’t be as thorough or official as if you interviewed her yourself, but if it can lighten your workload just a little…”

“...Well, I don’t see why not. Hop in the car with us then.”

The return trip was silent. Toshinori glanced at Midoriya a couple of times from the rearview mirror, and he always caught him in an ill-concealed state of unrest. Fidgeting with his phone, picking at the seatbelt, gazing nervously out of both car windows. Toshinori didn’t like that. Why all that agitation, now that the worst of the ordeal was supposedly over?

The boy eventually locked eyes with him. “...Oh. Uhm.”

“Something on your mind?” Toshinori asked.

“Uh, well, I was wondering…” His gaze dropped to his knees. “Are you going to tell my mother about my quirk?”

“I’m afraid so. She is bound to find out anyway, eventually. The police will issue an update on your quirk registration, as per the norm in such cases.”

“...Ah.” Oh boy, now he looked like a kicked puppy. That was just depressing.

“I don’t necessarily have to be the one to break the news to her though. If it makes you feel any better, you can tell her about the incident in your own words.” Toshinori offered, hoping to soften the blow.

“I… I think I would prefer that. Thank you.” The boy quietly acquiesced.

Tsukauchi shot Toshinori a pointed look. All right, maybe that wasn’t the most proper way to go about it, maybe standard procedure demanded the officer in charge to keep mother and son separate during the questioning and explain things personally in the most objective possible terms. But Toshinori wasn’t an officer, he was a washed-up alter-ego of the Symbol of Peace acting in semi-official consulting capacity, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to make things a little less humiliating for the forlorn child in the back. He condensed that whole argument into a meaningful glance of his own, that Tsukauchi couldn’t hold for more than two seconds lest he drove them all straight into the back of a truck. Toshinori took that as unspoken permission to proceed as he saw fit.

“I’ll be leaving this in your capable hands then.” Tsukauchi said as the two stepped out of the car. The man had a veritable talent for conveying irony while maintaining the straightest of faces and the driest of tones.

“Your trust is deeply appreciated. Drive safely!” Toshinori shut the door of the car decisively and waved him off with a dazzling smile.

“Uhm. Okay.” Midoriya said, his eyes darting between the hero and the speeding car with obvious perplexity. “Mom won’t be here for at least another forty minutes. I can fetch that photo you wanted in the meantime. I think I know where it is… probably...”

“I’ll take you up on that, thank you.” Toshinori followed him across the parking lot and up the stairs of the apartment complex. The boy’s eagerness to please was a sight for sore eyes in this cold, self-serving world. “You really did something commendable today, you know? Not many people would be so ready to relieve the pain of those who hurt them. That villain owes you more than he’ll ever know.”

“Oh…” The boy fiddled with his keys as a light redness tinged his cheeks. “It’s nothing, really. It isn’t my place to judge anyone... let alone steal from them. I just hope he’ll get better soon.”

“I’ll keep you up to date on his condition, if you want.”

“Oh, you don’t need to! It’s fine!” Midoriya’s instinctual politeness clashed against Toshinori’s no-nonsense availability. It was a fierce battle, but one didn’t become the number one hero without developing a certain skill in staring people into reasonableness. Midoriya surrendered with a small smile. “...I-It would put my mind at ease though.”

“Then I shall.” Toshinori claimed with finality. “Honestly, I wish I could have done more today for you and Tsukauchi. You two took care of all the heavy lifting and data collecting while I just stood around doing nothing the whole time.”

“You did, didn't you…?” Toshinori’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Well, he hadn’t been expecting that candid a confirmation of his uselessness. Midoriya flinched and started flailing about in obvious distress as soon as he realized he’d voiced that thought aloud. “N-No! I mean- I don’t mean that you were- What I’m saying is that you didn’t really need to come. But you did anyway! F-For my sake, I get that. Because you promised you’d help me out, even if you surely have better things to do with your time, and… I truly appreciate it. Really.”

Toshinori laughed softly. Yes, ‘truly appreciative’ was indeed the boy’s default mood whenever he was graced with the barest amount of consideration, as far as the hero had witnessed in their short acquaintance. He didn’t think it was some sort of hero-worship-related response either, the kid just seemed that sensitive to it. “Don’t worry about it. It’s part of the job.”

“Is it?” Midoriya finally opened the door and they stepped inside. He let out a small chuckle of his own as they removed their shoes. “I guess I have new insight to add to the online speculation about All Might’s decreasing workload. I guess it is to be expected if yo- if he’s taken  to follow up on all his cases so thoroughly.”

Toshinori had to fight back a traitorous cough. “W-well, there is really no need for me to overexert myself nowadays as I used to do in the past.“ He started, automatically supplying his PR-certified response to any inquiry on the topic. Goodness, people really did notice, didn’t they? It was hardly a new concern, but still… “The crime rate has been decreasing steadily, and the industry is so saturated with heroes that there’s someone ready to intervene almost at any place and at any given time. And those heroes could use the money and exposure way more than me…” Toshinori trailed off as they made their way to the living room. The boy was regarding him with unnerving attention, as if memorizing his speech word for word. “There are other reasons too, of course…”

Midoriya cocked his head to the side curiously, expecting further elaboration. Then it clicked, and he fleetingly glanced at the hero from head to toe with open contrition. “O-Oh! Of course! Your… Sorry, I forgot.”

That simple sentence confused Toshinori so much that he couldn’t help but gape back. The silence grew very awkward very quickly. “...Uhm. So, that photo of yours?”

“R-Right! I’ll go look for it! Make yourself comfortable! Be right back!” The boy bolted fast enough to leave metaphorical dust clouds behind him.

Toshinori wandered to the nearest chair with small steps. He forgot. That was quite the feat, while literally standing in front of the sad, wrecked husk that Toshinori had become. Or maybe the kid hadn’t realized that his appearance was a relatively recent development. That seemed more likely. Perhaps he had interpreted his vague answer about his quirk to mean that the number one hero had always been just that, a sickly, overachieving twig in a bodysuit keeping his own skeleton in the closet for nearly forty years.

Toshinori let out a sigh. Quite the uplifting impression he was leaving with this young one.

His circling thoughts were interrupted by a yelp, and the thundering noise of some heavy objects crashing just outside the living room.

“Midoriya?” Toshinori called, jumping to his feet. The second unanswered call had him by the source of the noise in a moment.

“I’m here! I’m fine!” Midoriya’s voice finally answered, from behind a half-closed door conspicuously marked as ‘Izuku’ by a familiar blond-banged nameplate. 

“What was that?”

“Just… some stuff that fell down...” Toshinori approached it and peeked inside. Even from his limited perspective, he could see the boy sitting on the floor and rubbing his forehead, next to a tipped-over chair.

“And did that stuff happen to include you?” Toshinori deadpanned, inviting himself in... and pausing on the threshold. Taking in the interior of the boy’s bedroom. Which wasn’t the priority right now. He willed himself to ignore the star-spangled elephant in the room assaulting his senses and knelt down beside Midoriya, gently peeling his hand away from the sore spot. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no, it’s just a bump.” 

“You should put some ice on it.” There were no cuts or outer signs or damage, which was a good start. Toshinori’s eyes fell on the bottom half of the toppled piece of furniture beside them. “...Did you seriously try to climb on a rolling chair?”

“I do that all the time. It’s steadier than it looks!” There was no appropriate reply to such a claim, but Toshinori’s judgemental glare was enough to make the boy squirm. “I’m fine, really-”

“Ice.” He pointed sternly at the corridor. Maybe there was still a minimal chance of preventing an oversized lump on Midoriya’s forehead from outing to Tsukauchi and other responsible adults the fact the boy had nearly cracked his skull within five minutes of being left in Toshinori’s charge.

“All right. Just a second.” Toshinori kept an eye on the kid, making sure he wasn’t struggling to keep his balance, as he made his way out of the room. Room that Toshinori was now free to observe in all its embarrassing magnificence.

A soft All Might carpet. All Might-themed bedding. Walls plastered with All Might posters. All Might-patterned curtains. Shelves and shelves and shelves of All Might action figures and books. 

It was always… humbling to be reminded of how much passion and care people from so many different walks of life could put in something as trivial as collecting hero merchandise - his hero merchandise, more often than not. Popularity and revenue were Toshinori’s very last priorities when it came to his job, but, despite merchandising being exactly about those, he wasn’t opposed to the practice in principle. It did help cement the reassuring image of the Symbol of Peace in the collective mind, which was definitely one of his lifetime goals. It brought a sizable influx of wealth to the agency’s treasury, which he largely redirected to charity and assorted emergency relief funds. It did seem to spark genuine joy and entertainment in both children and adults. And, when none of these arguments were enough to wash away the vague sense of guilt that came with profiting off the love and admiration of Japan’s fine citizens, Toshinori reminded himself that there were much worse, self-destructive indulgences people could waste their savings on. Alcohol. Tobacco. Drugs. Troll 2 DVDs. The like.

Midoriya reappeared nursing an ice pack against his temple. “Sorry about that. The photo should be in one of those boxes.” He gestured towards the wardrobe that sported a brown cardboard box on the top, and then towards the floor, where its twin lay sideways after a presumably rough landing. They cut through the tape of the latter and, after Midoriya emphatically assured him that he didn’t mind him browsing through his personal belongings in the slightest, Toshinori joined the kid on the carpet in their quest for the photographic Holy Grail. 

“I probably slipped it inside one of these…” The boy said, pulling out small piles of notebooks and publications. Toshinori confined his perusal to dated magazines, comics and books that didn’t seem likely to invade Midoriya’s privacy. The first box yielded no result.

“Maybe it’s in that one. Let me get another chair- oh.” Toshinori only needed to raise his arms and strain slightly on his toes to comfortably reach the top of the wardrobe and retrieve the second- crap, that was heavy. How the kid planned to pull it down himself while standing on wheels was beyond him. “Thank you.”

Toshinori was sitting cross-legged and flipping through an old gossip magazine lavishing pages and pages of speculation on the meager information they had managed to scrape together on his association with Dave - ah, those were the days… - when Midoriya finally let out a triumphant Aha!

“Found it!” He regarded his prize with joy, but his expression quickly morphed into concentration and then confusion. Toshinori held out his hand expectantly, and the boy deposited the photo into it while indicating a specific spot. “It’s, uh… my father’s this one.”

Toshinori looked at the man in question.

And froze.

“He doesn’t…” He heard the boy say distantly, as if from kilometres away. “He looks… a bit different from the picture in the police file…”

Toshinori coughed. He was different, all right. Subtly, cunningly so. Both men had short, snow-white hair, both had relatively plain features and pale complexion, both had faintly-colored eyes that could pass as blue under the right light. They were similar enough that they could be mistaken for one another, when described verbally. But the man in Tsukauchi’s file was a stranger to Toshinori. The man in this photo wasn’t.

“This-” The hero managed, between small bursts of coughs that he couldn’t restrain. “This is the man that- told you to keep quiet about your quirk-”

“Y-Yes.” Midoriya was gawking at him with obvious concern, and it only got worse when the hero’s words sank in. “I-I mean, he didn’t- he just- we sort of agreed that-”

“And the-” Toshinori covered his mouth with his hand, already tasting iron on his tongue as he patted his trousers to find some tissues. “The last time you spoke to him was…?”

“A little less than a month ago.”

Something inside Toshinori just gave up on trying to hold it together. He erupted into a brutal fit, vicious enough to shake his whole body and squeeze his eyes shut. He heard the boy asking something in alarm, and he felt warm blood trickling down his chin before he finally got ahold of a handkerchief to press against his lips. He hacked and spluttered for an interminable minute, his throat and chest tight and sore from the effort. Eventually it died down, and he found himself hunched over and bracing himself against the floor, wheezing and struggling for breath as something shuffled beside him. He turned to check on the noise, and saw Midoriya tapping on his phone.

“Don’t.” Toshinori rasped, swallowing down the remaining blood coating his mouth and reaching out to gesture at him dismissively with his clean hand. “I’m fine.”

“N-no, you aren’t.” The kid looked on the verge of fainting himself. Toshinori followed his horrified gaze, only to notice he’d sprayed plenty of little crimson stains on both the photo and the carpet, not to mention his own clothes. Damn, that was a mess even by his standards. “B-But- it’s okay, I’ll call an-”

Toshinori unceremoniously plucked the phone from Midoriya’s grasp, made sure that he hadn’t dialed any number, and tossed it on his bed. No need to make the situation even more headache-inducing than it already was. “I mean it. It happens. Don’t worry.”

Toshinori cleared his throat as he contemplated the ruined piece of evidence anew. At least he hadn’t marred the spot containing ‘Hisashi Midoriya’. Despite the less than optimal angle, there could really be no doubt. There was no mistaking that face for anyone else’s, it had been seared in Toshinori’s mind by more than three decades of pain and regret.

...Shit.

Shit.

Toshinori collected the picture from the floor and stood up to drop it on the kid’s desk, where it sat innocently surrounded by dozens of pieces of licensed All Might memorabilia.

“...So this is your father, and he’s alive and well.” He stated it aloud and with scorn, because he felt it was important for the universe to hear that its sense of humor didn’t fly with everyone.

“Ehr. Yes. Do you-”

“All right. Okay. Fine.” Toshinori turned on his heels and headed for the door. “Excuse me, I have to make a phone call.”

“...To your doctor?” Midoriya asked apprehensively, visibly starting to doubt the hero’s mental as well as physical well-being.

“No.” He almost stamped a huge, bloody handprint on his slacks before remembering that he still looked like he’d just slaughtered a pig and devoured it raw. “Can I use the bathroom?”

“Second door on the left.” The boy muttered, too stunned by now to object to any of Toshinori’s tangents.

Toshinori washed his face, neck and hands, and rinsed his mouth. He decided he couldn’t bother to do anything about the state of his clothes. He took care of scrubbing the sink too once he was done, making sure he didn’t accidentally leave any red smears on it. He dried his hands and fetched his phone.

“Tsukauchi? Sorry, can you make it back to Midoriya’s house? Yes, as soon as you can. ...No, but we found that photo. You need to see it, it’s… it’s him.”

He closed the call and stared at his reflection on the mirror. His brain didn’t produce a single coherent thought. He walked back to the kid’s room.

Midoriya was peering at the picture intently, even though he hadn’t moved it from where Toshinori had left it. The man’s eyes fell on the scattered blots on the carpet. In his experience, there wasn’t much hope of removing them completely, but it seemed rude not to try, at least. “Got any cleaning supplies?”

Midoriya blinked at him owlishly. “In the bathroom. Under the sink.”

One short trip later, Toshinori was back with paper towels and rubbing alcohol. He waved the boy off when he made to kneel down beside him to help. He handed him the ice pack that lay forgotten on the floor, and the kid pressed it back on his forehead mechanically as he sat on his bed. Toshinori could benefit from only a couple of minutes of silence before Midoriya spoke.

“You know him.”

“...Yes.”

“You’re upset.” 

Toshinori wondered if it showed on his face, or if it was just an educated guess based on the half-baked spontaneous hemorrhage he’d just displayed. He didn’t reply, his attention ostensibly focused on dabbing lightly at each smudge.

“Why…” The boy’s voice faltered. “W-Why is there a photo of another man in the police records?”

Toshinori couldn’t hold back a deep exhale. He wasn’t sure he was the most qualified person to have this conversation with the boy. He surely wasn’t the most eager to.

“All Might.” He felt compelled to raise his gaze. Midoriya was pale, his eyes wide and shiny with unshed tears. His expression was heartbreakingly imploring. “Please.”

He was going to find out anyway, at least the bare bones of it. Kindness was one thing, cowardice was another. Denying him an answer at this point felt more like the latter.

“I know him because he is known to the police. He’s a villain.”

“...A villain…?” The information bounced right against Midoriya’s shock. Toshinori gave him a curt nod. “No… no, that’s… not…” 

Toshinori could track the gradual, painstaking process of acceptance the poor kid was going through from the aborted expressions quickly blurring into each other. Horror, fear, confusion, disbelief. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob.

“A-Are you sure?”

Toshinori hesitated. Was there any other possibility they weren’t considering? “Are you absolutely certain that that’s the person you’ve been talking to?”

“I… I’ve never met him in person. B-But mom has, and she’s been talking to him too. She said it’s him.”

“...Then I’m afraid there can be no mistake.” It felt like dropping a boulder on the child’s chest, and the way Midoriya crumpled onto himself, cradling his head in both his hands, reinforced that gut-churning impression. Toshinori made no effort to conceal the sympathy in his whisper. “I’m sorry, kid.”

“H-He said…” The rest of that thought was swallowed into distraught silence.

“He told you he worked for the government?”

Midoriya took his time to answer, and he did so with a half-choked snort. “He… he never did, actually. I thought… He said things that… made me think…”

Toshinori grit his teeth. Figures. That silver-tongued demon wouldn’t spare even a child from his precious little mind games. “I can imagine.”

The silence that followed was only broken by the boy’s quiet sniffles, and it was so long that Toshinori believed the kid to have exhausted his reserve of bravery for further questions. He’d resumed his ill-concealed procrastination via blood-cleaning when the next inquiry dropped.

“What did he do?”

Oh, man. What didn’t he do? “He’s been involved in a variety of criminal activities, both directly and indirectly. He’s… quite the nasty customer.”

“Since when? How long for?” Midoriya gripped his head even more tightly, his fingers digging deep among his curls. 

Toshinori had the distinct feeling that his well-meaning honesty was now trespassing into inadvertent cruelty. “We should wait for your mother before discussing this any-”

“Please.” Midoriya’s head snapped up, and the weight and emotion of those emerald eyes pierced through him like a blade. “Please, just tell me.”

Fourteen years of lies. Toshinori couldn’t bear to add even one more to the heap. “...Since long before you were born.”

Midoriya’s head dropped anew. Toshinori got back on his feet, unsure whether a kind word or a pat on the head could possibly ease that burden even slightly-

The ring of the doorbell made them both flinch, bursting that odd bubble of private desolation that had enveloped the boy’s room. They made their way out of the room, Midoriya quietly trailing behind the hero as the man opened the front door.

Tsukauchi opened his mouth to greet them, and froze. His eyes immediately homed in on the blood liberally splattered on Toshinori’s clothes, and on the melted ice pack Midoriya was still absently pressing to his temple. 

“...What happened?”

Inko Midoriya had the same dark green hair as her son, styled in a way that made something inside Toshinori’s chest ache with nostalgia and familiarity. She had the countenance of a demure, quiet, respectable housewife that valued stability and her loved ones’ well-being above all, and would never even conceive of starting a family with anyone any less sensible than she was.

That was why Toshinori was thrown for a loop when, upon being informed that her absentee husband was a criminal, she simply closed her eyes and bowed her head with a sigh and a resigned “...Yes, I am aware.”

Toshinori let Tsukauchi lead the questioning, as usual. Inko had met ‘Hisashi Midoriya’ (under a different alias, at the time) when she was twenty-six, working as a secretary at the main branch of Detnerat. The man had been introduced to her as a representative from another support item company doing some preliminary checks on Detnerat for a potential merger. 

This was unusual, but not exceedingly so. In the nearly thirty years he’d spent meticulously dismantling All For One’s organization, Toshinori had gathered evidence of him personally handling certain aspects of his schemes with surprising regularity, even relatively minor tasks or dirty deeds that could easily and safely be entrusted to his subordinates. He hardly ever found any specific reasons for All For One’s direct involvement. Toshinori strongly suspected that the bastard simply didn’t enjoy the lifestyle of the cooped-up, invisible puppeteer, and sometimes just felt like wrecking some havoc with his own diabolical hands. 

Inko had been charged with supplying him with quite a sizable amount of rather sensitive data, but since the CEO in person had given the authorization, she had performed her task diligently and unsuspectingly.

Now, Toshinori had been expecting the worst to emerge while questioning the circumstances that had led Inko Midoriya to her current marital status. Without exaggerating, the very worst. Any sort of revolting account of manipulation, coercion, even human experimentation, there was no low All For One wouldn’t stoop to. They had confined the boy to his room before starting for that exact reason. 

But apparently the universe wasn’t done throwing curve balls at Toshinori that day, and what they’d gotten instead was the succinct description of what seemed to be, by all accounts, a perfectly ordinary and unassuming workplace romance. One instigated mainly by Inko herself, no less. Toshinori’s strained mind didn’t quite know what to make of that baffling information, so it promptly repressed it. 

“We didn’t keep seeing each other after he stopped coming to the company, but I did reach out to him when I found out I was pregnant. That was when I became aware that there was much I didn’t know about him.”

“How so?”

“He told me.” Inko replied simply. “He was... forward about it, in a way. He said that he couldn’t settle down in any given place, nor spare the time for being part of a family. He offered to let me join him in his activities, but… the way he worded it made it clear that he wasn’t talking of any sort of legal business.”

“Did he mention any details about what his ‘business’ entailed, in general or in that specific time frame?”

“No, not at all. But considering how we met, I assume he must be involved in industrial espionage.” Grief, brief but intense, shadowed on the woman’s features for a moment. “I… I resigned from Detnerat as soon as I found out. He had been asking rather sensitive questions about the inner workings of the company, and… even though I never technically shared confidential information, I felt like I had exposed it to too great a danger because of my irresponsible conduct. And, honestly… I was afraid of what could emerge if I kept working there in my condition.”

Toshinori rubbed his hands in his lap uncomfortably. No job, a son on the way, a presumably disreputable partner to deal with… What a wretched situation to find oneself in.

“You said he offered you to join him? In what way, exactly?” Tsukauchi asked from above the pages and pages of notes filling his notepad.

“...I am not sure. I didn’t ask, I had no intention of getting caught in that sort of environment. Nor did I want Izuku to grow up embroiled in dubious activities from an early age.” Inko’s brows furrowed, and her fist clenched slightly. “...I didn’t want him to feel abandoned either though. I didn’t want him to grow thinking his father had deserted him. I asked Hisashi to grant us that, at least. Financial support and the decency to call, once in a while.”

Toshinori couldn’t hold back a sharp cough at that. Inko regarded him with a mix of concern and suspicion. 

He couldn’t blame her for it. He had accidentally caused her a fair share of grief when, her son having forgotten to warn her to expect guests upon her return, she’d opened the front door and found a freakishly tall, gaunt, haunted-looking, bloodied stranger looming in her hallway. Toshinori had waited in a conveniently secluded corner of the living room, trying to make himself look as small and non-threatening as possible, while Tsukauchi delivered the proper introductions and deflected the few concerned neighbors her terrified scream had attracted. Not exactly brilliant, as first impressions went.

“And he agreed to that?” Toshinori croaked.

“Yes. I was expecting some resistance, but… he agreed almost immediately.”

Toshinori gaped at the remissive-looking, soft-spoken woman who had once been capable of browbeating All For One into exercising a modicum of fatherly commitment. This whole Midoriya case was getting more and more unbelievable by the hour.

Tsukauchi cleared his throat pointedly. Toshinori scraped back together what little dignity he had left and tried to soldier on.

“Please continue, Mrs. Midoriya.” The detective encouraged.

“There isn’t much else to say, I think. I didn’t hear from him for months after that. I contacted him a few days after Izuku was born, and we’ve kept in touch ever since.”

Tsukauchi tapped his chin with his pen for a few moments, his expression deeply focussed. Then he looked Inko straight in the eye.

“You are being… unexpectedly forthcoming about all this, if I may.”

Inko let out a deep sigh. “I was never under the impression that we could escape the consequences of Hisashi’s actions forever. As soon as Izuku was born, I decided that I would never subject myself or my son to undue duresses just to keep my husband’s secrets. I told Hisashi as much as well.”

Toshinori had to stifle another wet cough with his handkerchief. How on earth was this woman still alive? 

“And he had no qualms about this declaration?”

“No. It rather amused him, actually. He said that any mother worth her salt would put her offspring’s safety above that of their parents. And… something about natural selection and survival of the fittest…” Inko’s eyes flickered upwards briefly, like those of a very normal wife exasperated by the very normal idiosyncrasies of her very normal husband. “He does go off on such tangents.”

“So you aren’t concerned about any possible retaliations on your husband’s part because of your cooperation with us?”

“Oh!” Her eyes went wide, almost shocked by the mere suggestion. “Oh no, I really don’t think he’d be capable of something like that.”

Oh, how very wrong she was. Toshinori frowned, admittedly perturbed by the level of trust All For One had managed to establish within the family without ever even deigning to step in their household. Precautions would have to be taken to protect the Midoriyas from the tragic fate that usually befell all those who were deemed traitors by the Symbol of Fear.

More and more questions followed. With his habitual thoroughness, Tsukauchi pursued a multitude of topics and leads that hadn’t even occurred to Toshinori, at least not so readily. Timing and means of communications, occasional postal deliveries to and from the family, details about the sums of money regularly deposited in the family’s account, and so forth. Toshinori was rather out of his depth here, but he tried his best to help Tsukauchi sort through the reams of documents, receipts, records, and diverse paperwork Inko produced at the detective’s request. By the time Tsukauchi declared to be satisfied with his preliminary inquiries, he had earned himself two plastic bags bursting with evidence, and Toshinori had developed a burgeoning migraine.

As they finally made their way to the entrance, Toshinori glanced at the door to Midoriya’s bedroom. Amidst that cascade of new revelations, they’d barely touched upon the topic of the villain attack and of Midoriya’s quirk with his mother. Toshinori felt genuinely sorry for the difficult conversations that were sure to follow between those two.

He hadn’t realized how late it’d gotten until he stepped outside the Midoriyas’ apartment. Sunset had come and gone, and the lampposts and the bright squares of the neighbors’ windows were the only sources of light in the moonless night of that unassuming residential area. As the door closed behind his back, squeezing into nothingness the rectangular glow framing him and Tsukauchi, Toshinori felt the darkness weigh on his shoulders and seep in his bones almost physically. 

He felt, suddenly, extremely tired.

“I’ll drive you home.” Tsukauchi’s wasn’t an offer, so Toshinori didn’t refuse.

“Thank you.”

They walked to the car as his friend made a couple of quick calls to instruct some agents to watch the house until the next morning. The fresh night air would have felt like a small bliss to Toshinori on any other day, but in that moment it only rattled whatever unpleasant manifestation of his unease had lodged itself in his lung earlier that afternoon and hadn’t left since. He coughed a few times in his fist, then a few more on purpose to make sure he got most of the discomfort in his throat out of his system before he settled in the passenger’s seat.

The drive was quiet. Toshinori gazed absently out of the window, letting the new awareness sink in his mind like a stone in a pond. All For One was alive. All For One was still alive, somehow. Toshinori couldn’t fathom how. They had never retrieved the body, that was true, but there was precious little they had managed to retrieve from the location of their fight back then. It was nothing short of a miracle they’d found Toshinori himself quickly enough to lend medical assistance. The only reason why they’d been able to keep the public from learning of the accident was because it hadn’t happened on the mainland, and the tiny, uninhabited island that hosted it had all but been wiped from the maps. That his foe may have survived that disaster, considering the damage he’d sustained, was almost inconceivable. Toshinori was pretty sure he’d actually caught a glimpse of the man’s exposed brain after landing the last-

“Are you all right?” Tsukauchi asked quietly.

The corner of Toshinori’s mouth twitched upwards. “I’m never going to defy New Year’s fortunes again. Moving away from Tokyo was a terrible idea.”

“This is a good thing. If you hadn’t, All For One would still be out there, and we’d be none the wiser.”

Hell. Five years. For five years they’d been none the wiser. How much strength had All For One regained in five years, while Toshinori’s own slowly went down the drain? How much of his criminal network had he managed to rebuild? How many unnoticed, unreported atrocities had he been plotting and executing, unbeknownst to all? The mere notion made Toshinori’s skin crawl.

But Tsukauchi had the right idea, there was no point in brooding over the current situation. Things could have turned out a lot worse. If Toshinori had already chosen a successor and exhausted One For All’s embers, by now he’d be powerless and useless, and the burden of facing his revived nemesis would have fallen entirely on the new, inexperienced wielder. That truly would have been a worst-case scenario. But as things stood, he could still rely on his quirk for a decent amount of time. He could still tie this dreadful loose end himself before passing the torch, and he’d spare no effort in the endeavor. He’d pursue the monster to the ends of the Earth if he had to, even if it meant wearing himself down to nothing for the rest of his life.

Or meeting his gruesome, bitter end in the process.

Toshinori shivered.

“So,” he heard himself say, “where do we go from here?”

Tsukauchi gave him a stern, silent scrutiny, then he told him.

[rjhpandapaws]

Canon hankcon, "birthday" for the prompt, and that's all I'm giving you lmao. Whose birthday? Party or no acknowledgement? Homemade cake with haphazard candles or storebought fancy pants cake? How many birthday kisses from Sumo? I dunno you tell me.

//:3

It wasn’t any particular news that Hank didn’t enjoy his birthday much anymore. It might have been the grief but he had a hard time remembering a time before Cole when he did. It was old news to everyone it seemed except Connor who was waiting by his desk the morning of with a box in his hands. “Connor, what is that?” He asked as he moved to sit at his desk. “It’s a birthday present Hank.” Connor set the small box on his desk, “Isn’t it a human custom to celebrate them?” Hank bit off the annoyed sigh and reminded himself that Connor didn’t know better, “Most people do. When you’re young making it another year is kind of a big deal, but when you get to my age its just a reminder of how many opportunities you’ve missed.” Connor fell onto red for a moment and Hank regretted his words, “Do you want me to take it back?” His LED flickered as he did something in that head of his. “No.” Hank shook his head, “I appreciate it Connor, it was just a surprise. I’m not used to people caring after I spent years asking them not to.” Connor narrowed his eyes as he moved to sit as his desk, “I know now, so it won’t happen again.” This time Hank sighed, “Connor, its okay, I promise.” Connor still didn’t believe him from the looks of it, and Hank hated that he was right. He knew Connor meant well, but they were dancing around an unknown something and every time Connor would do something like this it reminded Hank that the android could do so much better. When he finally climbed out of his own head Hank noticed Connor had gotten to work. His LED was yellow which meant he was thinking about something too, but Hank didn’t have the nerve to ask. He looked down at the small precisely wrapped box and what it was that Connor had decided was worth getting him.

He opened the box as quietly as he could, he didn’t want to pull Connor out of his focus, the brunette hated that. The last thing he expected was concert tickets, they were rested on top of a neatly folded t-shirt. The tickets were for a holographic performance by Frank Sinatra. He set them aside and took out the t-shirt and found it was a signed Knight of The Black Death shirt, it was from one of their older tours and had only been up for bid. He didn’t know how Connor had found it or how much he had paid for it but he knew neither of them had been cheap. “Connor.” He said firmly. Connor came back to himself and tilted his head in question, “You know birthday gifts are supposed to be simple right?” “Yes.” Connor responded, “But they are also supposed to be something you enjoy, and I figured that this would have been better than simple. Jazz is something I know you enjoy, I would have done Knights of The Black Death but they aren’t currently touring.” “So you bought two tickets to one of the best jazz clubs in Detroit and won a bit on an auction only shirt.” Hank remarked. “Yes, I figured you could take a friend with you.” Connor continued, “I figured you would have more fun that way, the shirt took a while to get, but that’s the perk of not needing sleep.” Hank bit back a groan and found himself smiling nonetheless. He didn’t deserve this kind of effort and certainly not from Connor. Not to mention that Connor had seemed to greatly over estimate the number of friends he had. Other than Connor and possibly Jeff he really didn’t know who would want join him. According to the date on the tickets he had until that evening to decide.

He tucked the tickets back into the box and did what he could to focus on his work. His mind kept tracking back to how much thought Connor had put into this, some stupid day of the year to commemorate the mistake that was his life. That Connor had found their friendship for lack of a better word worth burning a few paychecks on. It baffled him. On some level he understood that not many people viewed him in the same light he viewed himself, but the fact that Connor of all people saw him as worth this much effort never failed to knock him off kilter. The day was thankfully slow, his head wasn’t in the right place for case work as it was, he wouldn’t have been able to handle a live one. He was pulled back to attention when Connor began to pack up his things for the day. Hank still needed to talk to him about the jazz club. God, how long had it been since he had asked someone on a date? Could this really even be considered a date if Connor was the one that bought the tickets? “Your vitals say you are distressed Hank. Is there something I can do to help?” Connor was standing with his blazer over his arm, it was a charcoal grey number he had picked out to replace the branded one. “Ah no. I was just thinking too much.” He said, here went nothing he supposed, “Would you like to go with me tonight? To the jazz club?” He didn’t miss the small smile that flashed across Connor’s features before he replied, “I would love too.” Hank nodded as relief crashed over him, “Think you could be ready by eight thirty?” “Of course.” Connor agreed, “I’ll see you then Hank.” He gave a polite wave before he turned to leave. Hank was grinning at his monitor like a damn fool.

He got home with just around two hours to get ready and realized he had nothing to wear that would hold a candle to how Connor would probably wind up looking. He dressed sharply despite being a plain clothes detective so it was certain he would be dressed to the nines for this too. He dug through his closet like a damn teenager looking for something that would fit and look nice. He needed to shower as well but that could wait until after he found something to wear that would be presentable. He decided on black jeans at the very least because he couldn’t be paid to wear slacks even for a maybe date. Then it was on to looking for a shirt which took longer than he would have liked. He eventually settled for a dark teal button down that he didn’t remember ever buying but was thankful to have nonetheless. The shower came next since he did have time, and after that it was just a matter of getting himself to look presentable. He shaved figuring it was time the beard went anyway and then tied his hair back in a half ponytail to keep it out of his face. He debated his glasses for a long moment before he put them on, he technically needed them all the time but he only used them at home to give his eyes a break. Satisfied with the way he looked, he fed Sumo, grabbed his leather jacket, and headed for the car. If he was lucky he would only be a little late to pick up Connor. Hank was not in anyway ready for the way Connor was dressed. He had changed his hair to loose curls and an undercut. He was in a maroon button down under a grey suit vest with black slacks. He was absent of a tie and the first couple buttons of the shirt were undone, and he looked nervous. When he saw Hank his LED rolled yellow and blinked a few times and Hank could have sworn it was red for one of them, but just as quick as it happened it was back to blue. His smile was back in place as he walked to the car.

“You clean up nicely Hank.” Connor said with what Hank was going to take a as a friendly smile because if he looked too much into how Connor had looked at him he was going to combust, “The glasses are a nice touch.” Hank let out a dry laugh, “Only you would find not being able to see attractive.” Connor let out a sound that was distinctly inhuman but still very clearly flustered, “I didn’t- that’s not- its-” He sighed, “That’s not to say that I don’t find you attractive normally.” There was a long stretch of silence after that then Connor seemed to realize what he had said and his LED strobed red. The car was alight with his very clear distress, “Could we maybe pretend that I didn’t just say that.” Hank chuckled lightly, “Of course. It will be just like it never happened.” Of course Hank planned to keep the memory for himself. It confirmed that he hadn’t been imagining whatever this unspoken thing was between them. It was unfortunate that it seemed that for now it would stay unspoken. At least he knew glasses at the very least were the key to getting under Connor’s skin. Maybe he could wear them to the station every once in a while. “For what it’s worth Con, you clean up pretty nice as well.” Hank remarked earning another smile from Connor. “I was worried I might be over dressed.” Connor admitted, “I’ve never been to one of these places before so I wasn’t sure what the dress code was.” Hank shook his head as he pulled into the parking lot, “You look just fine, I promise. If anything, I might be a little underdressed.”

“I think you look nice.” Connor said almost under his breath. Hank didn’t know if it was meant for him to hear, but he responded anyway, “Thanks.” He doesn’t get anymore response than Connor’s index finger cutting into his line of sight, “There’s a parking space four spaces up and to the left.” Hank hummed his acknowledgement and pulled into the space once they got to it. He checked to be sure he had the tickets and then got out. Connor followed suit. They were close enough to bump shoulders as they walked to the doors and Hank couldn’t stop the smile on his lips even if he had been paid. It might not have been a date officially, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like it. There was just something in the air that made it feel that way. After they were admitted Connor took his hand and lead him to a corner table with a clear view of the stage. They were early, there was still about twenty minutes before the opening act so the good tables were almost full. Like the parking space Hank chalked it up to Connor’s keen observation, he always was a few steps ahead of Hank it seemed. “Is this alright?” Connor asked his voice was void of its usual confidence. “Its perfect Connor.” Hank reassured, “There’s nothing to be worried about.” “You seemed upset with this idea earlier.” Connor said without looking at him. He was turned in a way that Hank couldn’t see his LED, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” “Hey.” Hank said sharply which caused Connor to look at him and like Hank had suspected his LED was on red, “I was just surprised. Its been... quite a while since someone had put that much thought into a gift. I love it Connor, and if I’m honest I’m still trying to convince myself that this all is real.”

Connor’s LED flickered and Hank knew he was being scanned. Under any other circumstance he would have found it frustrating but he got the feeling Connor was just as out of his depth as Hank was. He needed to know that Hank was being honest and Hank could give him that much. He apparently found what he was looking for because he smiled. “Then I suppose its a good thing I did.” Connor said after a moment, “Someone has to remind you that you matter.” Hank let out a dry laugh, “Damn Connor, usually you buy a man a drink before you get to the sweet talking.” It was a deflection and a poor one at that if the way Connor narrowed his eyes was anything to go by, “Hank.” “Right, no self deprecating comments.” Hank grumbled, “Do they even have android friendly drinks here. I probably should have thought about that sooner.” “They do, don’t worry.” Connor informed, “But even then, tonight isn’t about me.” Hank’s response was cut off by Connor narrowing his eyes once again, “How about we order a couple of drinks before the show starts.” Connor smiled, “That sounds nice.” Hank took his jacket off and rested it on the table to mark it as taken. Connor stood as well and they headed to the bar together. They were bumping shoulders again and Hank was tempted to take his hand again, but he didn’t. When Connor had taken his hand it was so they wouldn’t get separated by the crowd had settled down for the most part in anticipation for the show. Connor stepped up to the bar to order, “Could we get an Old Fashioned and a Thirium Sunset please?”

Hank wasn’t nearly as surprised that Connor knew what he liked to drink as he was at the fact that he had ordered an alcoholic drink for himself, or at least the android equivalent. The bartender seemed surprised as well but got to work on both drinks. “I didn’t know you drank.” Hank found himself saying. “I don’t usually.” Connor admitted, “But its not very gentlemanly to let your date drink alone.” Hank blue screened at that, he was relatively certain Connor meant it as a turn of phrase but he still hung on the word. Connor was smiling, he seemed glad to catch Hank off guard. The night after that passed in a haze of good music and better and conversation. Hank still had to drive so he stopped after two drinks, but the more Connor had the closer he moved and by the end of the night Connor’s usual perception of personal space was little more than a myth. Hank found he didn’t mind. When it came time to leave Connor’s balance was off so Hank put on of his arms over his shoulder and half packed Connor out of the jazz club. Connor tried his best to walk so it wasn’t as much dragging him as he thought it would be. “You have like, really pretty eyes.” Connor said out of the blue when they were nearly to the car, “They are very expressive.” Hank laughed, “Thank you Con.” He found himself wondering if androids could suffer from hangovers but he found himself sympathetic just in case. He got Connor in the car and belted in which wasn’t all that much of a feat, it seemed the cold air had helped him recover some. He was quiet on the way home, and if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes were roaming around the car Hank would have believed him to be in stasis.

“I think I’m back to normal now.” Connor said as Hank pulled into his complex, “Sorry about that.” Hank just chuckled, “Everyone gets that way when they find a drink they like. On top of that I’m pretty sure its your first time drinking. Getting like that is basically a right of passage.” “I could have at least picked a day other than your birthday to get like this.” Connor sighed as he looked down. Hank found a place to park and reached out to ruffle Connor’s hair, “It was nice to see you let loose for once. Tonight was nice.” Connor smiled, “I’m glad then.” If Hank were to be asked about this, he planned to blame it on his drinks, even if he and Connor both knew it was a lie. It was an out both of them could take if they decided this was a mistake, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from leaning in. The kiss he gave Connor was chaste and not much more than a brush of lips. The one Connor chased it with was the exact opposite and Hank found himself breathless when Connor pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow Lieutenant.” He said with a wink as he got out, “Happy Birthday.” Hank watched him walk into the building still waiting for his brain to come back online. Of all the ways he expected tonight to end, this was not one of them. Happy Birthday indeed.

@irrelevantbutfabulous

(Prompt from this list)

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Dramione RomCom Fest (Part 1)

Dramione RomCom Fest 2020:

12 Years and 3 Months by pixiedustandbluebutterflies - T, one-shot - As news of their engagement takes Wizarding England by storm, elusive power couple Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are finally sharing their love story in this Witch Weekly interview!

50 (First) Dates with Hermione Granger by HufflepuffMommy - G, WIP - Draco Malfoy sets his heart on romancing Hermione Granger, but she has short-term memory loss; she can't remember anything that happened the day before. So every morning, Draco has to woo her again. Her friends are very protective, and Draco must convince them that he's in it for love. Plot (andsummary) taken from the movie "50 First Dates" for the Dramione RomCom fest!

About Time by WordsmithMusings - E, WIP - When Draco's Father reveals to him that the men in their family have the ability to travel back in time, he uses his newfound gift to do many things - save a life, be a better friend, reconnect with a witch, and fall in love.

All's well that ends well (to end up with you) by weestarmeggie - M, one-shot - Hermione Granger is all set to be the maid of honor at her best friends wedding. She is taken back when she finds out that the best man is none other than her ex-fiance.

Away by In_Dreams - E, WIP - Desperate for a change of pace, Hermione unknowingly commits to a home exchange with Pansy Parkinson and finds herself swept up in the chaos of New York City and into the arms of Draco Malfoy. Dramione/Hansy. Loosely inspired by The Holiday.

Bells on a Hill by HeyJude19 - T, WIP - Left by his fiancée a month before the ceremony, Draco never got his dream wedding, so agreeing to assist Granger with her own wedding planning to distract himself from his broken engagement seems like a great idea—though Draco probably shouldn't fall in love with the bride-to-be. Based very (very) loosely on The Wedding Singer.

Chasing the Future by Rdlentz8 - T, WIP - An unusual and anonymous Patronus finds a frustrated Hermione alone in the library and talks to her about being lonely. Could this be the push she's needed to change her fate? Inspired by A Cinderella Story. There are direct quotes from A Cinderella Story.

Domino Effect by KoraKwidditch - M, WIP - Resolved to live her life in Muggle London, Hermione Granger finally felt free. Free from the Ministry, free from her celebrity status and everything that entailed. But who knew that one cataclysmal incident would lead her straight into the Malfoy's den and down a series of unfortunate events? At least they think she's a Muggle.**A Dramione retelling of While You Were Sleeping**

Fairytales and Wishes by Charlie9646 - T, one-shot - All Scorpius wants is for Hermione to be a nice step mother, but somehow that sort of gets lost in translation with his accidental magic.

Flipping Through the Pages by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns - T, WIP - Draco Malfoy had a fascination with a popular book series and its writer. His life changes when he meets her.

The Hate List by bethelson - T, WIP - While chaperoning the post graduation trip, Hermione and Draco find themselves wandering the streets of Paris in the middle of the night, fruitlessly searching for the seventh years they were supposed to be in charge of. What Hermione doesn’t know, is that those seventh years struck a bargain with Draco to keep her occupied so they could sneak out for a last hurrah before they all head back to London. So in his efforts to derail her search, he convinces her to join him in their own night of frivolity. As they paint the city red, they slowly learn to let their guards down, and find that putting the past behind them allows them to finally focus on the present. ___ My contribution to the Dramione RomCom Fest!

Hollywood & Vine by dreamsofdramione (Bugggghead), msmerlin - M, WIP - As the manager of an occult bookstore currently renting a room from an old friend and living paycheck to paycheck, Hermione wasn’t exactly living the Hollywood dream. But her life is turned upside down when a chance encounter with Tinseltown’s current heartthrob, Draco Malfoy, leaves her questioning everything she thought she knew about life and love. or the one in which Hermione unintentionally falls in love with a movie star.

Home is Where the Heart Is by lrs002 - T, one-shot - A rewrite and Draco/Hermione look at basically the last scenes of the movie Sweet Home AlabamaOr in the other words: The Wedding and the Kiss

How to Lose a Wizard in 10 Days by GracefulLioness - E, WIP - Hermione will do anything to prove to her boss at Witch Weekly that she's ready to take on more serious topics, including dating a man just to drive him away for the sake of her next column, How to Lose a Wizard in 10 Days. But pushing Draco Malfoy away proves to be a challenging task, perhaps because he's got ten days to make her fall in love with him. Inspired by How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.

It Happened One Knight by Klawdee - T, WIP - “A spoiled heir running away from his family is helped by an old classmate, who is actually a journalist in need of a story.” Based off of the 1934 film, It Happened One Night

It's All In The Malfoy Family by TwilightToMidnight - M, one-shot - Over a decade of longing and desire comes to fruition one night. Not quite the way Hermione expected but definitely with a bang. Everyone and their dog seem to be working against her. For the 2020 Dramione RomCom Fest. Loosely based off Sabrina (1954 - with Audrey Hepburn).

Love, Actually in Dramione by Blessedindeed - G, one-shot - I absolutely love the movie "Love, Actually" and was so excited to make some art pieces from a few of the more memorable scenes! Many thanks and kudos to QuinTalon & NuclearNik for hosting and being such amazing encouragers to everyone! I cannot wait to dive into all these fun pieces!!

Love, Hermione by pandora_rose_xo - G, WIP - When Hermione leaves some personal letters lying around in a sleepy haze, Dobby comes across them, and trying to be helpful delivers them to their recipients. Who were never supposed to see them.

Metamorphosis by persephone_stone - T, WIP - Draco Malfoy is king of Hogwarts High—student body president, captain of both the water polo and basketball teams, and boyfriend of Astoria Greengrass, the hottest girl in school. That is, until said girlfriend returns from Spring Break with some unexpected news: she’s dumping him for a college boy. Now, Draco is on a mission to win her back. And who better to help him turn into a more intellectual, cultured version of himself than Hermione Granger, the smartest girl in school? As he and Hermione spend time together, will Draco learn how to be the right type of boyfriend for Astoria? Or will he instead learn that maybe Astoria is not the right type of girl for him? Written for the Dramione RomCom Fest, based on the 90’s teen romcom She’s All That.

Midnight in Paris by Aneiria - E, one-shot - ‘Granger,’ Draco replied, casting a quick wandless charm to clean his own clothes. ‘Want to watch the magic you’re casting next time? Whatever spell that was, it nearly took both of us out.’ Hermione’s face settled into a frown of confusion. ‘I thought that was you,’ she said, hesitantly. ‘I wasn’t using magic.’ They both looked away at the same time, taking in their surroundings. ‘Where are we?’ Hermione wondered out loud, as she spun on the spot and took in the sights. It was the wrong question, really.

My Big Fat Muggle Wedding by BiscuitsForPotter - G, one-shot - Draco's gotten more used to having Muggles as future-in-laws, but what about his parents?

No More Waiting by anchoredto717 - T, one-shot - The end of Hogwarts, an impending Mastery, and confirmation that Hermione is well and truly over Ronald Weasley: three factors that push Draco into a place he never imagined. Is he really going to Harry Potter’s house party? A one shot heavily inspired by the 90s teen classic, Can’t Hardly Wait.

Off the Rails by RoseHarperMaxwell - E, WIP - For the Dramione RomCom Fest 💚 My adaptation of the movie Trainwreck (Amy Schumer/Bill Hader), featuring Draco in Amy's role. “Pans.” Draco’s head falls back petulantly. “I can't interview Granger, especially not about how she's healing Potter. Neither of them are going to want to talk to me. Make Creevey do it.” “No, you'll do it. And don't sulk at me, Draco.” Pansy shuts him down immediately, not that he expected to talk her out of it. She gives assignments, not suggestions. “Old Quidditch rivalries. Gryffindor Princess confiding in the Prince of Slytherin, with a side of The Boy Who Lived. You’re the only one for it.” She drops her pen on her notepad with finality. “She’s also fit as hell now. I’d even fuck her, so our readers will be drooling over her. This is easy, Draco. Don’t fuck it up.”

One Thing We've Got by IrisCalasse - M, WIP - Over a decade after the Second Wizarding War, Draco Malfoy is a broke socialite straddling the Muggle and magical worlds. One day a new neighbour moves in his residential complex. What has happened to Hermione Granger to make her hide from Ronald Weasley? If Cormac McLaggen is gay, why is he hanging around Granger so much? And why does her cat seem to know way too much about everything? Based on the plot of Breakfast at Tiffany's, but set in 2012 London with a magical twist. Updates every 16th of the month.

Pin down your heart by hiyas - G, one-shot - Hermione Granger contemplates a door when Destiny comes knocking.

Playing Cupid by tygermine - T, one-shot - Set It Up AU.

Pretty Witch by TakingFlight48 - E, WIP - When confronted with the opportunity to take on an alter ego - Hermione Granger, Potion's Mistress and the Wizarding World's Golden Girl became Vivian Roberts - London's weekend escort. For three years she lived in this duality until Draco Malfoy, lost in Soho and driving a precious DB6, wound up uncovering her secret. This is the tale of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy finding a balance between work and love through the guise of fake dating, unacknowledged feelings, and Hermione not wanting to let go of a part of herself that is no longer serving her.

Promises, Promises by Musyc - T, one-shot - Lawyer and social work advocate Hermione Granger is one signature away from fulfilling her dream to have a house-elf education program. All she needs is to seal the deal, and Draco Malfoy has promised the full support of Malfoy and Son Developments. But the owner of the property is balking, there's a new buyer in the mix, and a promise isn't a contract.

The Proposal by FaeOrabel - M, WIP - When Head of Creatures Division of the DMLE, Hermione Granger, is pushed into a corner regarding a new marriage law she doesn't want to comply with, she gets the brilliant idea to stage an engagement with her long time, loyal assistant, Draco Malfoy. Draco goes along with the charade on the condition she gets him promoted to a new position. A deal set, they prepare to fool not only the Minister of Magic, but Hermione's best friend, and Draco's entire family. What could go wrong? Just the threat of Azkaban should they fail.

PS I love you by emotionalsupporthufflepuff - M, WIP - After a tragic accident, Hermione must reintroduce Draco to a life they've built far away from home. She recieves unexpected help in a series of letter written by Draco himself before the accident...

Regrets Only by nztina - T, WIP - Draco and Hermione are the best of friends - until Hermione goes off to teach at Hogwarts and Draco realises that he doesn’t just miss her. Upon her return to London, he intends to reveal his feelings, but she has a surprise of her own, one that will definitely put a damper on Draco’s plans. Draco. Hermione. And...Hermione’s fiancé?

Restless in Ripon by QuinTalon - T, WIP - Scorpius Malfoy wants his father to be happy again and as his grandfather often told him, a Malfoy always gets what he wants. A nosy radio host, well-meaning friends, and fate will help bring two lonely souls together. Well, that and one tenacious eight-year-old.

Rushing Back by floorcoaster - M, WIP - Draco Malfoy is thirty, surviving, and very much not thriving. He's near the utter end of himself when he experiences the worst of all possible bad days--a double betrayal that rocks him to his core. Unmoored, untethered, he winds up in a strange place, where he begins an adventure through time that will change the course of his life. A time travel fic with a twist on the movie "13 Going on 30."

Say Anything by MidnightValkyrie - G, 9 Chapters - To know Draco Malfoy is to love him. Hermione Granger is about to know Draco Malfoy. Written and created for the Dramione RomCom Fest, based on Say Anything.

She's the Snake by monsterleadmehome - E, WIP - In a universe where Voldemort never came back, Harry lives with Sirius, and Dumbledore isn't dying, the worst thing the Golden Trio has to contend with is their grades and Quidditch matches... oh, and the recent magical attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns. Harry is sure Malfoy had something to do with it, and though Hermione doesn't agree, her sarcastic offer somehow turns into her latest nightmare: to go undercover as a boy in the Slytherin dorms and find out what's really going on. And maybe throw a Quidditch game or two. But there's one thing she hasn't prepared for: falling in love with the boy she's supposed to be spying on.

Signed and Sealed by niffizzle - M, WIP - She owns a children's bookstore. He runs a corporation buying significant shares of small businesses. Never in their lives have Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy gotten along — or so they think.

Timing is Everything by anne_ammons - M, 7 Chapters - Draco Malfoy is your average bachelor living an average bachelor's life, until he crosses paths with his former classmate, Hermione Granger. Strike that - when has Draco Malfoy ever been average? A retelling of the 1994 movie, Four Weddings and a Funeral, Dramione-style.

A Trip to Kouloura Beach by rennaissance_woman - one-shot - A day at the beach, what could happen?

The Truth About Kneazles and Crups by samkablam7 - T, WIP - When Draco Malfoy started hosting his wizarding radio show The Truth About Kneazles and Crups, he had no idea that it would bring Hermione Granger back into his life. He also didn't know that they would both be interested in each other. The only problem? She thinks that the radio host she's interested in is his best friend and Pro-Quidditch-player-wannabe, Blaise Zabini.

Untitled Marital Crisis Comedy by Darlingheart - G, one-shot - Draco is rich, handsome, and most importantly, excellent with the ladies. Harry Potter is not. Which is where Draco comes in. With Draco’s help Harry will learn there’s more to life than being a one-woman man. But what happens when Draco meets someone who changes his mind? And what does Hermione Granger have to do with it...

A Woman of Some Dignity by mcal - G, one-shot - That seemed to get his attention. “What are you—of course I respect you, you daft witch!”

“Your actions today show the opposite!” I answered. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m a woman of some dignity and I’d like to shower in peace. You’ll kindly wait half an hour before Apparating back to my flat.”  Hermione's not one for diaries, but it's been a week to say the least. It all started off with a confusing meeting with Draco Malfoy in her office, and... well, Hermione thought maybe recording her thoughts on the events would help her process. She isn't wrong.

You lost and lonely, You just like heaven by Wake_The_Dragon - T, WIP - Dramione Romcom Fest. Hermione Granger had needed something new and a change of scenery was a good start. What she hadn't counted on was renting a flat with an annoying (if handsome) ghost, who claims he isn't dead. Somehow, helping out a ghost and falling in love were two things she hadn't bargained for.

You Wish by Talonwillow (Ehollis303) - T, WIP - What makes a bad case of "Black Cat Flu" more tolerable? Young Perseus is learning that hearing about dueling, torture, revenge, giants, dementors, chases, true love, and miracles from his Grandfather Scorpius certainly makes things easier- If the man would finish the story that is. A story about love, where not even death can keep the beautiful feisty stable-girl and her sometimes irritating one true love apart. Together they must battle the evil Lord Voldemort through an adventure crossing the magical and fairy tale realm.

[babytortie]

so pretty

so pretty ❘ eddie kaspbrak x reader.

a/n: so this was already in the works but then it was requested by an anon - omg can u do eddie smut bae, like i just read ur eddie imagine.

* i hope this lives up to what they wanted. also !! i loved writing this so thanks for pushing me to finish it. :)

summary: in which eddie changes his look and overcomes his anxiety which causes him to gain the confidence he needed to finally make a bold move on his best friend(reader).

warnings: some fluff, mainly s m u t. <3

contains: blonde!!dom!eddie, teasing, begging, hair tugging, fingering, degradation, rough, and unprotected sex.

* all characters ( including reader ) of the loser's club are seniors and 18 in this one-shot.

~ 2.8k words.

in january, the day after winter break of your senior year was when everything started to change for you. it was when eddie decided to move out of sonia's home and into richie's. he'd had enough of his mom and her crazy theories of how he was gaining new sicknesses. though, it was also when he blossomed into the person he was meant to be. 

eddie walked into derry high early that morning with his brunette curls now dyed blonde, a dark shirt resting over a pair of ripped jeans, and with his fingernails painted black. every girl turned and glanced, and only realized it was eddie kaspbrak after a double take. he didn't care about those glances or the glares from the boyfriends of the girls who stared at him. all he was worried about was how you would think of him and his new look. 

the other six members of the club knew of his crush on you for years. even richie was jealous when you joined the group but that evaporated when the three of you became the inseparable trio. you had a teasing sibling bond with richie, who always made you laugh at his new jokes. though with eddie, it was anything but platonic.

you and eddie weren't exactly just friends but it wasn't labeled as any kind of relationship either. when you hung out at the houses of the other members for movie nights, he always sat next to you and cuddled. or at parties, he stood behind you the whole time with his arms wrapped around your waist and chin resting on the top of your head.

what the losers really questioned was when you all hung out and why two friends held hands in public. they didn’t even know that you also kissed his cheek when he walked you home. though a couple of times, eddie’s cheek accidentally turned and you ended up kissing him on the lips instead. neither you or eddie broke wanted to break the kisses at first and almost always continued it for a good moment or two. 

unfortunately for either of you, the kisses were never talked about. this because of the constant anxiety over potentially ruining the friendship. then again it was eddie. you were comfortable with him and knew he wouldn't hurt you or go behind your back.

some days you subtly watched him (or so you thought) when he was talking, smiling, or laughing, and you wondered if he was your soulmate. richie and beverly would catch you staring and see how much your eyes shined while gazing at him. it was a weird limbo that you've constantly tangoed with him for the past year and a half. neither wanting to overstep but constantly doing it anyway without realizing. 

it was almost like the two of you were meant to be and everything was easy. eddie knew you like the back of his hand. his very attractive hands that were covered with rings now. holyshit.

when he found you, you were going through the books in your locker. he walked up to you and slipped his arm around your waist. you smelled his cologne and leaned back into his chest, smiling that he was in your presence. eddie leaned around your side to peck a quick kiss on your cheek and that's when you noticed the blonde from the corner of your eye.

you turned around so quickly that eddie thought it gave you whiplash. you didn’t let the quick dizziness bother you and instead put your fingers through his hair. he let out a small groan at how good the small massage was and bent his knees so he could come down to your level. eddie was face to face with you and he could easily make out how memorized you were by his curls. "oh my god eds!" when you finally let go, he frowned. “is that good or bad?” he laughed nervously.

eddie grabbed your hand back from when you placed it at your side and interlocked your fingers with his. you looked down at your joined hands and curled your fingers around his tightly to give a good squeeze of reassurance and he calmed instantly. “definitely good eds, definitely.” eddie smiled sheepishly and blushed in return from your acknowledgement.

the other six members of the loser’s club stood down the hall and could see how red his cheeks were by the close proximity. "he’s lapping it up." stan rolled his eyes and spoke up to break the silence from the group watching you and eddie converse. “o-oh shu-ut it,” bill instantly knew stan was jealous that he wasn’t getting any attention from his boyfriend. the stuttering eighteen-year-old put his arm around the curly blonde-haired that he loved and it hushed him. bill smirked and watched him blush when he kissed stan’s cheek.

richie looked around at the other couples and realized he and mike were the only single one’s left. at least he hadn’t taken a ‘vow’ of celibacy like stan suggested he should do. “you think y/n will put in a good word for me with sonia when she finally gets with eddie?” richie asked and patted mike’s back which he swatted right off of him. 

beverly retrieved the purse from her locker and unzippered it to grab her chapstick. she looked over at the other’s and mumbled in response. “define finally because that could be tomorrow, a week from now, or even years at this rate.”

and that’s how it went the next couple of weeks. you and eddie would take two steps forward and then two steps back. it was a constant annoyance and the bet between the other’s grew higher every day. richie bet all of his paycheck from the arcade that he now worked at and beverly bet a couple bucks from her work at the movie theater. even bill chimed in and bet some of money he earned from the drawings that he sold to a store down in town. it was complete chaos and yet the two of you were still oblivious.

or so the other’s thought, while the eight of you were at a party now. you and eddie were both a little tipsy from drinking earlier and he was dancing rather closely with you. your small hands were placed around his neck and fingers once again laced throughout his hair. 

he held your sides delicately and his rings glistened when they hit the light. eddie's smile was infectious and every time without fail when you looked at him, you caught yourself and looked down with flushing cheeks. what the hell is happening? why does this feel different than any other time?

finally, after the third time of you doing this, he smirked knowing the effect he had on you and took one of his hands from your waist. the blonde placed his finger on the bottom of your chin and tilted your head up slowly. your eyes widened when they reached his and you tried turning but he held your gaze firm. “what’s the matter sweetheart?” he inquired so casually as if you weren’t trying to squeeze your thighs together. 

his brown eyes stared into yours, a unique shade that he always claimed was his favorite color. as he waited for your reply he glanced down and took in your outfit. he admired the way your dress hugged your curves in just the right places. you swallowed nervously at how close in contact you were and the fact you felt like he was looking right into your soul. even though you knew it that belonged with his from the start of your friendship. 

other people in school always talked in the hallways about how they thought you were soulmates and even about lying. they thought you were actually together but in denial with telling everyone because of how much you and eddie always clung to each other. like right now, you danced with him and watched as he took in a glimpse of you while feeling like your whole body was on fire. “nothing’s wrong eds, promise.”

mike and stan stood off to a corner and waited for bill and richie to bring them back drinks. beverly and ben were in their own little bubble dancing a few feet away from you and eddie. mike watched beverly and ben dance then looked at the two of you, raising an eyebrow in stan’s direction. “what’s up with them?” the curly haired one looked away from mike to see you two dancing then back at him, rolling his eyes and taking the drink from bill’s hand. “i think the bet is ending tonight.”

richie dumped back his beer and input his own comment about the current topic. “hell yes! then i’m one step closer to being off the market.” he snickered but fell quiet when a girl walked by and left a lingering smell of peach fragrance behind. “b-beep beep richie!” bill nudged the trashmouth who only escalated his behavior and risked bumping into irritable stan’s shoulder.

thankfully bill’s boyfriend simply brushed it off but by doing that quite literally so, which caused richie to wholeheartedly laugh at the dramatics. trashmouth put his red cup in the area towards your direction, signaling for the others to look and they nodded. shit eating grins were on each of their faces and for once, everybody was in agreeance.

eddie glanced over at the four and shook his head. you followed his movement and chuckled at richie being over the top as usual. “want to get out of here?” he asked. it was common for the two of you to sneak off and be in your own little world with him. you smiled and let go of his neck and held out your hand for him to take. he grasped onto it and let you lead him out from the small crowd in the living room.

ten minutes later, you were sitting on eddie’s bed in his temporary room at richie’s house. you grabbed his hand and played around with the rings on his fingers. one of them caught your eye and he noticed, making a mental note to give it to you later. “so, what did you mean by the comment earlier?” you asked and cursed at the twinkle in the blonde’s eye. he gripped your side to pull you closer and your breath hitched when he leaned into the crook of your neck. 

eddie placed a feather-like kiss onto the sweet spot of your shoulder and instant goosebumps appeared all over your soft skin. you cleared your throat before you could let yourself talk incoherently. eddie grinned into your skin before looking up at you and you almost fainted at the dazed look. whispering hoarsely, you asked him, “are you sure?”

eddie nodded and that was all you needed to lean into his kissable lips. he put his hand on your cheek and moved in closer. you moaned when his tongue touched yours and he smirked. your teeth clunked with his when you roughly gripped the blonde strands on the nape of his neck. he broke apart from your lips and moved to push your shirt up, which you helped in doing and then greeted his lips again for another rough kiss. eddie palmed your perfectly molded chest and you let out a whine.

he chuckled and kissed your neck and then slowly made his way down. eddie started at the middle of where your breasts met and you shivered when his warm breath touched you. “you have no idea how-” kiss. “long,” kiss. “i’ve, kiss. “wanted,” kiss. “to,” kiss. “do,” kiss. “this,” kiss.

your body practically spasmed at the euphoria feeling of him worshipping your body. he unclipped your bra and kissed the top of your left and right breasts. moving down more, he also kissed the middle of your stomach and on each side of your waist as he slid down your ripped shorts. it was when you felt like you could orgasm from just that alone when he kissed the inside of your thighs.

“ok, ok eds. i think we’ve waited long enough!” you tried to hold on his hair to get him up from his position and for him to quicken the movements but, the smug bastard ducked at your attempt. eddie knew what he was doing when he slowly slid down your panties. he slipped a finger over your folds and you groaned when you knew that eddie now knew how easily he turned you on.

“this all for me sweetheart?” you rolled your eyes, a classic stan move but it was ruined when you smiled embarrassingly. “no eds. sorry it’s for richie.” he glared playfully at you and pulled his shirt up and off in a seductive way that shut you up instantly. holyshit. when did he start working out? he unbuttoned his pants and shoved them down, stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him after he took off his boxers.

he admired the sight of you all spread out for him then climbed back over on top of you. your skin tingled when his finger tip brushed inside your body. “so pretty, sweetheart.” eddie kissed you again with everything he had and you melted into him when he fingered faster. you felt how hard and ready he was for you when you pressed up into him after he angled and curled two fingers inside of you. he swallowed your gasps at the feeling of him continuously hitting your g-spot. “please.” you whined into his mouth. 

he looked at you and how pretty you were, which you could say the same about him but there wasn’t enough time to do so when you felt him lining up and pressing against you. eddie pushed inside of you slowly at first. it was almost painful but it stopped when you grabbed his hair and begged for him to go faster. he grabbed your wrists and put them above your head and quickened his pace inside you. 

you babbled and chanted his name when his hips hit yours harshly. eddie leaned down to kiss your shoulder and grinned wolfishly at the way you looked. “you look so pretty like this, y/n. vulnerable and breathless under me. such a good girl.” it was so overwhelming and attractive that you gripped him in a vice at the comment. it was still baffling at the fact that your best friend was fucking you. “i bet richie couldn’t fuck you like this.” you looked at him with widened eyes but didn’t deny the comment so he continued going. 

“you’re my dirty girl, aren’t you?” he wanted a response so he grabbed a big section of your hair and tugged. you nodded as he slammed into you repeatedly and you could feel a bundle in your belly working you up. eddie scooted closer in between while moving himself inside and out of you and kneeled in between your legs. he smirked at your helpless look and pushed your legs apart even further to spread them open for him. 

he looked down at you on display just for him and he moved his hand to position it down and on top of your clit. he flicked it once before rubbing and you gasped. seconds later after a few more pumps inside of you is when you released all over him with him closely following. he looked down at you with a blissful face and kissed your puffed lips that were smeared with red lipstick. eddie collapsed next to you on the side of the bed and turned on his side to look at you.

the sight of you still took his breath away. even with the smeared lip stick and messy hair. he desperately wanted to make you his.“i hope it wasn’t too much?” you poked eddie’s side at his question and he laughed. “no way eds, it was perfect.” you smiled. he cupped your face and looked into your eyes. “i know it’s kind of past asking but do you want to be my girlfriend y/n/n/?”

the next morning, you were in your boyfriend’s arms and holding a mug of coffee in your hands. the two of you broke apart at the sound of a door shutting and of course, richie appeared. he took in your appearance with eddie’s arm wrapped dangerously low around your waist. you looked at the trashmouth who was wearing a wrinkly shirt, along with his hair being all disheveled and poking up in different directions. “long night?” you asked. he snickered and pointed at ed’s your shirt and in a cocky attitude retorted back at you. “more like great night but it looks like you did too.” richie quickly walked by before you had the chance to reply. he wanted to call the others about the bet money while changing for school. before he shut his bedroom door though, richie smirked at the question eddie asked you.

“is that peaches i smell?” you shook your head at ed’s question and his hold on you tightened at your mocking. he smiled at you when you leaned back into his arm and angled your head upwards for another kiss. who knew he could have his best friend and girlfriend all in one?

© babytortie on tumblr + wattpad.

[hermannsthumb]

From horny twitter: Hermann writes a very very detailed review of a vibrator online

not sfw below cut!!!!!!!!!!! 

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

Now, usually, Newt doesn’t mess around when he’s on the clock, because that’d be very unprofessional of him and that’s totally not who he is, but he’s in a little bit of a rut with his current project and could use the distraction. Online shopping is his favorite go-to distraction these days: he can lose himself in size charts and color options and hunts for coupon codes and forget, even for a few minutes, that the end of the world is accelerating towards them at an intimidating rate. Plus, he can write off half his shit as work-related expenses. Win-win. Though maybe not this particular search.

Newt has a pretty reliable arsenal of sex toys he’s used on rotation since he packed up and shipped across the world for the PPDC, but the ten-year warranty vibe he’s used since PhD #3 (and his favorite of the bunch) finally crapped out on him last week after a historically intense fight with Hermann got him historically wound up. Eleven years ain’t bad. After testing out a different charger, poking around in the wiring, and even going so far as to zap it a few times with some sorta-stolen drift tech to see if it stirred any life back into it, he finally decided it was time to just mourn, move on, and buy a new one. (Even if, unfortunately, his particular favorite model was discontinued when the company’s factory was destroyed in a kaiju attack and they never quite managed to recover. More casualties of the war.)

The sex toy market is truthfully booming during the apocalypse. It makes sense, Newt guesses—anything for a distraction. Personally, for Newt, orgasms tend to dampen his own existential dread, even if it’s just for a few minutes. He scrolls idly through a few Top Ten For 2023 listicles on various sex magazine websites to see if anything jumps out at him (some of the recommended toys are dildos he already has, and vibes that are a little beyond his k-sci paycheck), just hoping for something to jump out at him. Apparently he missed out on a limited-edition run of jaeger and kaiju-themed vibes and dildos that came out in early January, which he’s honestly a little pissed about—he’s the top expert on kaiju biology, god damn it! Didn’t anyone want to consult with him about their hypothetical junk? Accuracy matters.

“It’s all off,” Newt mutters grumpily as he examines a 360 view of one of the kaiju dildos. Trespasser. “It’s not even the right color. Fucking amateurs. Did they even try?”

“What are you doing?” Hermann says.

Newt slams his laptop shut. Hermann decided to cut his lunch break short today, apparently. “Shopping,” he says.

“You sounded awfully angry about something, is all,” Hermann says. He clacks over to his half of the lab and shrugs off his big parka, then pauses. “Do you need to...talk about it?”

“No,” Newt says.

Hermann breathes out in obvious relief. “Good,” he says.

He takes his usual spot at his chalkboard and resumes his calculating. Newt re-opens his laptop and scrolls away from Trespasser before he can make himself angry over anatomical inaccuracies again. The jaeger vibes from the collection are pretty cool, actually; the designs are a lot cleaner, and their artistic license is a lot more forgivable. The highest-rated of the set is one obviously (but not enough to invoke copyright infringement, if that can even exist for a jaeger) modeled off of Coyote Tango, with like, a million different settings, and an astronomical cost to match. Newt eyes it enviously. He could be shoving that up his ass right now if he’d just signed up for a stupid email list last year.

He follows the link to Amazon to read through some of the reviews enviously, too. Life-changing; best money ever spent; warranty lasts a lifetime. Ten stars across the board. Sold out, obviously. No idea when it’ll be back in stock. He could get the Striker Eureka model for twice the original cost as when it came out, if he wanted, but the idea of constantly having to associate the twenty-something punk Hansen kid with his intimate affairs makes him shudder.

A nine-star review for the Coyote Tango model from someone named MathLover69 is the only one to make Newt really pause, on account of how absolutely insane it is.

I saved quite a few paychecks to purchase this vibrator, and though the cost is steep, I must say it is absolutely worth it. As opposed to my normal vibrator (here another vibe is linked, and Newt’s eyebrows jump at that price, too), which has only five settings, an admittedly bulky body, and average battery life, the CT2023 has a generous ten, a sleeker design, and charges fully in a matter of minutes. The orgasms I have experienced while using it are higher in quality (and more numerous) than any resulting previously from masturbation, though I have not tried beyond setting six yet. It also works wonders for stress relief. (I have an incredibly irritating colleague, and nothing calms me down so much as a quick round with the CT2023 after a spat with him.)

The body is versatile enough to be either inserted into one’s—

Newt feels heat rise to his cheeks in spite of himself, and he skims the second paragraph of MathLover69’s review to get the gist of it—that there are, uh, plenty of ways to utilize the vibe, that it’s discreet and small enough to wear to work (if you were inclined to do so, as MathLover69 implies he might’ve been) and that when combined with the Yamarashi dildo, the pleasurable experience increased tenfold. Talk about oversharing. Jeez.

My only complaint would be that the design is a poor approximation of the real Coyote Tango, and for that I’ve docked a star. I would recommend this product.

“This guy is a total nut,” Newt says to himself.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

Newt considers the implications of showing Hermann the vibrator listing: Hermann will know he was shopping for sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys during working hours a mere ten feet away from him. Embarrassing, but on the other hand, MathLover69’s review is too funny to not share with someone else. “Hey, Hermann,” Newt says, angling his laptop towards Hermann. “Look. Who comments shit like this?”

Hermann descends his ladder carefully and inches up behind Newt’s shoulder, squinting at his laptop screen. He immediately turns bright red. Newt must’ve offended his Victorian sensibilities with the mere suggestion of self-abuse. “Oh,” he says. “Er.”

“Way TMI,” Newt says. “Listen to this line. ‘With the Yamarashi toy inserted into one’s mouth, and the CT2023 inserted up one’s—'”

“Well, how else is one meant to review a masturbatory aid?” Hermann snaps, surprising Newt. He looks oddly flustered. “Details can be—er—helpful. Can’t they?”

“Sure, dude,” Newt snorts. “Except they’re obviously just screwing with people. They literally have a 69 in their username.” He taps at the MathLover69, and doesn’t mention—on behalf of Hermann’s delicate mathematician feelings—that the MathLover part is obviously meant as a joke too.

“Well,” Hermann says. “Perhaps it’s just his—er, their birthdate.”

Newt turns around to stare at Hermann, taking in his red cheeks, his red ears, and the gaze he’s fixed steadily on his shoes. It’s all Newt can do to not to gape at him. “Hermann, you’re kidding,” he says. “Right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hermann says.

“You didn’t,” Newt says.

“I,” Hermann stammers. “Well—”

“I didn’t even know you—”

“That I what?” Hermann says.

Newt gives a half-shrug. Hermann doesn’t seem the type to engage in any sort of vice, let alone this kind. And especially not with the type of sex toys he apparently gravitates towards. (If Newt was a little bolder, and had a little less shame and care for hygiene, he might ask to check out the Yamarashi, because anatomical inaccuracies aside, wow that sounds awesome.) “I mean, you know,” Newt says. “You’re kinda you. No offense.”

Hermann takes offense. “I am human,” he says. “I am allowed to masturbate, Newton, and I was merely attempting to educate other customers about the—product—with my thoroughness.” He adds, awkwardly, “My review was voted very helpful, as you can see.”

“Okay,” Newt says with a grin. “I get it. Sorry.”

Hermann marches back over to his side of the lab with a scowl. Newt waits until he’s sure Hermann’s not watching him, and is too distracted by muttering angrily under his breath, to bookmark MathLover69’s page of reviews.

It turns out (as Newt revisits the page later that night, in the privacy of his bunk) Hermann buys and reviews a truly staggering amount of dildos and sex toys, and on top of that, has absolutely zero filter behind the wall of anonymity. It’s to the extent that some of his reviews read like goddamn sexts.

It took me three occasions to successfully work myself up to taking in the entire length…

My orgasm was so pleasurable I alarmed my colleague with the noise I made, who believed me to have injured myself…

The highest vibration setting is a bit of a disappointment…

These are excellent for double penetration…

It also turns out Hermann is a veritable sex fiend. Or at least a masturbation fiend. Judging by his reviews alone, Hermann’s purchased more than a dozen different toys in the past three years alone. That’s four a year. One every three months. That’s not even including buttplugs, which (according to other reviews) he sometimes just wears into the lab (“work”) for the hell of it, which Newt isn’t even going to think about right now. How the hell has Hermann kept this much of his life under wraps? When the hell does he have time to jerk off as much as he apparently does? No wonder they never seem to have any fucking funding; all of Hermann’s paychecks are funneled directly into his—well.

Newt recalls the faux-injury incident Hermann mentioned in a comment with mild embarrassment. No wonder Hermann had been so weird and flushed when he opened his door, and made excuses to say bye to him so quickly—Newt just caught him (oh, boy) immediately following the best orgasm of his life. Well, mild embarrassment, and a little more than mild arousal. What Newt would’ve given to have been there five minutes earlier, to watch Hermann in the act of the best orgasm of his life, to maybe even be the one to cause it…

What Newt would give to use Hermann’s fancy-shmancy vibrator on him, or literally anything from his giant masturbatory arsenal. Or even just watch him use it on himself. Hermann’s just so damned buttoned-up and uptight—it’s all about the contradictions. Juxtapositions. Newt unzips his jeans and sticks his hand down his boxers. “Stupid Hermann,” he moans, as he begins to bring himself off to the image of Hermann with that stupid kaiju dildo down his throat and that stupid jaeger vibe up his ass. Negotiator of peace between the two? Stupid joke, stupid Hermann. Or maybe he’s picturing Hermann showing up to the lab, all plugged up and loose from using a different vibe on himself that morning. Or maybe Hermann pushing two dildos into himself at once. How the hell can he even manage that? Ass his size— “Oh, goddamn it,” Newt moans again, and comes all over his hand.

Whatever. It’s not like Hermann’s ever going to find out about this.

[somedayonbroadway]

Santa’s Little Helpers

Fandom: Newsies

Word Count: 2k+

Characters: Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva, Jack Kelly, Katherine Plumber, Smalls (Newsies)

Summary: When Albert had told Race that he’d had a surprise for him at the mall, this is not what Race had had in mind.

A/N: So this little fic was a request from Katrina Miller. This reviewer did ask for a Christmas fic with Race and Albert and while that's definitely here, this did turn into a bit of a Sprace fic. I hope that's okay!

Please enjoy!

When Albert had told Race he'd had a surprise for him down at the mall, this is not exactly what Race had had in mind.

Race was now making minimum wage at, what he had been told by Saint Nick himself, was the perfect job for him. He was an elf. If the pointy ears and ridiculous jingle bell hat weren't enough, the shoes certainly completed the outfit. He was clad up in ridiculous green and white socks and even worse tiny red overalls. What didn't make sense to Race was that he had never been particularly short. Neither had Albert. And yet, here they were, pretending they were tiny, had squeaky little voices and painting red little red circles on their noses and cheeks.

Currently, Santa's was on a ten and that meant that Santa's helpers had to deal with the oh-so understanding parents and their screaming kids who had been waiting in line for about two hours now only for Santa to decide he needed a break.

"Oh my gosh, look at him," Race groaned a bit at the voice, turning around to be met with the sight of his all too adorning big brother who was not even alone. No, he had his girlfriend on his arm. "Honey, look at our little elf! They grow up so fast."

The pair had bags and bags of things in their arms. And Race couldn't even be bothered to be the nosy kid he was and try to prematurely snoop. All he could do was glare as Katherine cooed at him, "Aww, we raised a good little elf, Jackie."

With a roll of his eyes, Race just prayed no one else he knew from school stumbled through Santa's Village. As much of a loser as he already was, he didn't think he'd survive the torment. Albert, however, didn't seem to care as he slung an arm around Race's shoulders and hung on him a bit. Albert was eccentric. People expected this kind of thing from him. Race, as he often was, was just along for the ride. Right now, that ride required red, white and green everything and a fake smile for the bratty kids that tugged on his hair and ears.

"Heya, Jack!" Albert grinned. Race pouted his lips over his brother, as though he was asking for some kind of help but Jack only reached into his back pocket and took out his phone, snapping a picture of the pair. Albert was grinning.

Not quite as ecstatic to be here, Race's pout turned into a small glare towards the man who raised him. "Have I ever told you that I hate you?" he asked, only getting a small laugh out of Jack. "I'm burning all of your presents."

Jack only smiled and shrugged. "Well, I guess that means I can go return all of this—"

With his eyes widened in fake terror Race shook his head. "No! Jackie!" he whined. "I want presents…"

"Then I guess you gotta be a good little elf and take all the kiddies to meet Santa," Jack shrugged. Then he smirked. He had such a knowing smirk and Race hated him and yet somehow still loved him for it.

Before he could further insult his big brother in front of the giant line of crabby customers, Katherine was quick to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "We'll be by later to give you guys a ride, okay?" he promised, moving to give a waiting Albert a kiss on the head. "Tinker away my little elves."

"Bye, Red!" Albert called.

"Bye, Red!" Katherine called back, walking away confidently without her boyfriend.

Jack paused to give Race a kiss on the head too. "Be good, okay? Give these kids a good meeting with Santa. You don't know how many of them might actually need it." That was just like Jack. Thinking about others first. Sometimes Race feared that it might be Jack's downfall. He cared too much about others. He was self sacrificing. He couldn't could the number of times Jack had literally given him the shirt off of his back and the food that never reached his mouth. They'd grown up poor. They'd grown up orphans.

But that was a long time ago.

Race was sixteen now. And he had a job like any normal sixteen year old does at Christmas time.

Turning back to Albert, he sighed. "Why did you make me do this?" It was true. If anyone from school saw him here, he'd be torn apart. He and Albert weren't exactly super popular and they had accepted that a long time ago. That didn't mean no one knew who they were. In fact, people knew them as geeks and/or nerds who were constantly the target of some popular kids' pranks.

With a cheeky grin, all Albert could do was shrug. It was impossible to make the redhead embarrassed at this point. Race figured they'd been through enough humiliation to get him immune. See, Albert had not only one, but two older brothers. They were a product of his father's first marriage and were much older than Albert by the fault. They had been tormenting him his whole life. Race loved Albert's older brothers but they had always had sneaky, effective ways of embarrassing their baby brother. "Um, I'm sorry, we spread Christmas cheer to every child in the world. We're basically like the most important people in the world right now. Our job is literally to make Christmas happen. God knows Santa just sits on his ass all year long while we do all the heavy lifting," Albert scoffed, almost looking offended. "And also… money…" he finished, like that part was some great bonus.

To be honest, Albert wasn't wrong. The money was a great thing and Race was glad to have a little cash in his pocket for the holidays. He still had plenty of Christmas shopping to do. "Whatever…" he scoffed, rolling his eyes as they saw Santa coming back. The guy wasn't the best, but he got the job done.

"You're the one who said you wanted a job, man," Albert said.

"I meant a normal job, Al," Race groaned dramatically as he forced himself to make his way over to that big red rope that blocked off their little area. "One where I don't gotta wear a costume." Albert just tugged on Race's hair. Race let out a small yelp but he got back to work, shooting a glare in his best friend's direction as he let the first child in line go through. He only got shoved a little bit by the mother who had only yelled at him the second Santa walked away.

Today was the seventh day Race had been working and that meant, coincidentally, that he was also getting his first paycheck today and that was something to be happy about. It was all he could think about at the moment, as he lifted screaming, kicking, smelly children on and off of Santa's lap while a bored photographer snapped their picture. Well that and, of course, lunch.

Well, sort of.

As hungry as Race was, and Race was really hungry, the idea of having to stand out in the cafeteria like this was enough to make him want to put a bag over his head. According to his manager, he was not allowed to take off the costume at any time. It would ruin the magic, apparently and that just meant they wanted to see what happened when they sent two teenage boys dressed as elves out into the most popular hang out in the city just to see what would happen.

There were literally twenty minutes left before Race and Albert could take an hour long lunch and that's when Race saw him. "Hi, are you guys ready ta meet Santa—" He froze when he looked up to see a very hot, very muscular boy standing above him. "Holy sh—" A hand clamped tightly down over his mouth before the word slipped out and he nearly bit it to get it off.

Spot Conlon was one of the most popular kids at their school. He was the athlete. The quarterback, captain of the soccer team, pitcher of the baseball team and the literal homecoming king was standing right there in front of him and Race was staring at him with wide eyes. "Hi, Spot Conlon," Albert greeted much too cheerfully. Race was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that he was the only person in the world that knew that Race had a huge crush on the older boy and had ever since the sixth grade.

Spot gave the both of them an odd look. "Uh… hi? Do I know you guys?" he asked. It was only then that Race noticed he was holding onto a little girl's hand. He didn't know that Spot had any siblings.

Easily, Albert pulled Race up and put his arm around him again. "Uh… we go ta the same school… I've been in your bio class for the past semester, you live in the same building as Race—"

"Oh you guys are the ones that had to run through the school in your underwear because the Delanceys stole your clothes!" Spot said, like it should've been obvious.

It was immediate, the way Race's face fell into his hands dramatically. Albert hardly reacted. "Yep." Race wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole. That had been one of the single worst days of his life and he loved to have that reminder right now by this boy with this random kid there too. "Anyway, is your sister ready ta meet Santa?"

Snapping back to the moment, Spot looked down at the little girl who seemed very interested in her little toes right then. "Oh, this is actually my niece. Her name's Saraya but we all call her Smalls," he explained. There was still another kid up on Santa's lap giving him a list about the size of himself. "She really wanted to meet Santa, but she's deaf so… h-he doesn't have to talk to her or anything, she just wanted to say hi."

So maybe Race was desperate to impress this boy somehow, but he actually got very excited at hearing that. He immediately looked up before he kneeled back down to that little girl's level. He lifted up his hands slowly. "Hi," he signed with a small smile. "My name's Tyler. Are you excited to see Santa?"

The little girl's face lighting up tuned out the voice of his best friend looking up at Spot and spilling his life story. "His brother is hard of hearing. They were in a really bad car accident when they were little so now he has to wear hearing aids but they couldn't afford them when they were little so…" Albert never knew when to stop talking.

It was true. Jack had lost his hearing almost completely when he was ten years old. It hadn't been an easy adjustment for either of them, especially since they were orphaned in the very same crash. Jack hadn't handled it well. So Race had helped him learn a language that he didn't have to hear and now here he was.

They'd both lived.

Saraya nodded to him and signed back, "I know that's not the real Santa, but my uncle says he's gonna tell the real Santa my wish!"

With a big smile, Race nodded right back. "It's true! Santa just so happens to be a personal friend of mine," he explained a bit smugly, his heart only warming when that grin on Smalls's face grew. "What are you gonna ask for?"

That's when Spot stopped her, picking her up to mask that fact. He placed her on his hip before looking down at Race who slowly stood to his feet. "She… uh… she wants to see her mom… I'm trying to get her to ask for something else, but… her ma ain't home because… well she just ain't, but… we're hopin' ta get her home by Christmas. We just need enough to get a plane ticket," Spot shrugged, clearly not up for explaining at the moment.

Something sunk in Race's chest. He nodded, glancing back and realizing that it was Saraya's turn. "Uh, it's her turn…" Race stated awkwardly. So Spot nodded and walked over to Santa, setting Saraya down on his lap and translating for her as she sighed and signing back what Santa said.

"You are so in love with him," Albert sighed.

Race elbowed his friend in the gut and turned to him. "I'm not even… I'm thinkin' about Saraya! She just… I don't know… reminds me of Jack, okay?" he shrugged. "Except she's not quite as sad as he was when…" Race shook his head.

"Okay, don't go gettin' all emotional. Just get her a gift 'r somethin'."

Race smiled at that.

So that's exactly what they did.

This is how Race ended up on Albert's back, still clad up in annoying green and red colors as they quickly went from store to store trying to find the right thing during their lunch break.

"And then Kat said, 'well, if you admit that you don't believe in Santa, then maybe he'll stop comin' around, so like… I'm sixteen and I still get presents from Santa and I call that a win," Race shrugged, resting his chin on Albert's shoulder.

Albert scoffed. "Jeanne is the reason Santa still comes around ta our house— she misses you, by the way," he stated. "She's honestly, the cutest little kid I've ever met."

With a small laugh, Race jumped off of his friend's back and bounced over to the little stuffed animals. They were, of course, in the Disney store. He didn't know where else one would go to get a gift for a child. "Of course she misses me, I'm her favorite," he said, like it should've been obvious.

He came face to face with a little Stitch plushie. His heart swelled. It was one similar to something a nurse had gotten Jack all those years ago when Jack was in the hospital. Race shook himself out of it as he pulled the thing off the shelf. "This is the one," he decided.

"Ohana means family or whatever," Albert shrugged. "It's cute. Get it."

When they got back to Santa's Village, they stole some wrapping paper off of one of the decorations to wrap the gift. Race mostly swatted away Albert's hand when he tried to put a piece down all of the place. Race prided himself in his gift wrapping skills. "Dude, if you're using more than three pieces of tape, you've done something wrong!" he laughed as Albert hung a piece of tape from his nose.

But eventually, they managed to have a gift to give to the little girl who missed her mother.

Race got so wrapped up in the thought as he and Albert continued on that he didn't even notice the Delanceys walk by and mock them. He was too busy trying to give the kids a nice visit with Santa Claus. Some of them might actually need it.

—

When someone knocked on Spot Conlon's door later that night, he didn't know what to expect. The little elf boy definitely wasn't it. So, maybe he knew what the kid's name was. Racer. That didn't mean he was supposed to care.

Race wasn't wearing his costume anymore. He only wore the makeup. "Uh… hi…" he said. Spot almost greeted him back before the kid kept talking. "Look, I know it ain't like we're friends and you can make fun of me forever but… I… I got Saraya this and… this is for you guys…" He handed Spot a neatly wrapped box for Saraya and an envelope. It was his paycheck.

With a curious look, Spot smiled a little bit. "Um… thank you," he shrugged, not really knowing what to say. "You really didn't have to—"

"Saraya should be able to see her mom on Christmas…" Race shrugged.

Spot squinted at him a bit. "What—"

"Also, just to put this out there, I don't always look like this," he said.

A sly smirk made its way onto Spot's face as he shrugged. "Too bad. You make a cute elf."

Doing his best not to go weak in the knees, Race smiled breathily and let out a small, delighted laugh. "Uh, anyways—"

"Hey, what the Delanceys did," Spot interrupted, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. "That was messed up. I'm sorry I didn't say anything."

For some reason, that might've been the best thing Spot had ever said to him. Okay so maybe this was the first conversation they were really having all alone, but still. "Well, since it's the season of forgiving an' all…" Race shrugged. Then he sighed. "Merry Christmas, Spot."

Spot smiled at him. "Merry Christmas, Racer… and hey… thank you…"

And with that, Race walked away, feeling the Christmas spirit flowing through him more than he had in years.

Merry Christmas everybody! Happy holidays! Much love!

As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, fansies!

[2seokfan]

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 3

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3. ch.4

summary: 

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year?  So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a roller-coaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

a/n: Hello, Jun here! Whew this took a while to write but thank you for your patience!! (poor Y/N still doesn’t know their real names but maybe she’ll find out soon?) Any feedback is appreciated <3 

tag list: @wilhelminalucinda​ @ghostkat23​ @ayoo-bangtan​ @sadgurllayha

2 months later.

August is relentless. You’re sweaty all the time and you have no choice but the crank up the a/c every single day. This heat wave is incredibly brutal because all you want to do is stay at home eating ice cream in your underwear but instead you’re stuck working overtime to pay for what you assume will be a record-high electricity bill. Fuck you global warming. 

It’s currently Tuesday. You’re on lunch break at work, chowing down on a falafel wrap and scrolling through your phone, when a text pops up from Karli.

Karli: Don’t forget!

You: ???

Karli: This friday?

You scratch your head. Wtf?

You: What’s on friday?

Karli: Umm the date? Remember?

No you didn’t. Your dumbass actually forgot about a whole date. You can’t believe yourself. Karli finally set you up with that accountant guy from her job. What’s his name again? Brad? Brandon?

You: oh yeah! my bad haha

Karli: You forgot his name didn’t you?

You: …maybe

Karli: Lol it’s Bryce sweetie

Karli: He’s really sweet! Just give it a shot

You: of course i will

You: i’ll turn up my maximum charm

Karli: Dats my girlllll

Karli: Ugh gtg it’s my boss

Karli: Bye!

You: bye babe

You set your phone down, trying to envision this upcoming Friday. Karli mentioned she gave Bryce your phone number, and he’ll text you sometime this week about your date, so at least you don’t have to make any moves first. She did show you his picture though, being the wingman that she is by stalking all his social media just for you. You’ve gotta admit he is cute, the profile picture showed him sporting a casual smile, with blonde hair and blue eyes. The classic boy-next-door look.

“And he’s most likely not a serial killer!” You remember her declaring a few weeks ago, after scrolling through all his tweets. And when you say all his tweets you mean EVERY Single tweet from when he created his account in high school till now. Your best friend does not fuck around. 

“Thanks I appreciate that. Glad he’ll ‘most likely’ not kill me.” You rolled your eyes and grinned at her.

While you munch away the rest of your lunch, you think about how you just aren’t acting like yourself lately. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found yourself more excited for the date. Hell, in any other circumstance you would’ve at LEAst remembered his name, or thought about what to wear by now, or even stalked his social media along with Karli. There’s just a teensy problem though. See, in the past few months you happen to have met two boys who completely changed your standards in men. And you may have maybe developed the tiniest crush on both of them, at the same time. Like how?? You didn’t think you were physically capable of doing that?

You sigh, staring at the rest of your falafel wrap, and force yourself to accept reality. As much as you adore them, you know that your little crush will be completely unreciprocated. This you found out through your group chat, now named ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ (courtesy of Scarlet). It’s not that you confessed to them or anything, they just happened to let slip to you one day that they’re a mated pair. And hybrids mate for life, so they take that shit very seriously. Although this news stung a little, it didn’t cause you to be envious in any way. At the end of the day, crush or not, you’re just glad you have two more people in your life you can confidently call your close friends.

For the past two months you’ve actively kept up with them. Sometimes you’ll send memes back and forth all night, sometimes you’ll group call each other after work. Every once in a while, when they’re not busy doing whatever it is they’re doing, they facetime you. These are your favorite moments because you get to see them in all their attractive glory. Just because they don’t like you that way doesn’t mean a girl can’t deny herself some eye candy. 

You guys never run out of things to talk about. Each day you check the group chat and it’ll be popping. Your topics range from the movie that just came out, restaurants they discovered, to even discussing new criminal cases (you got Hazel into watching true crime Youtube videos and now he’s entirely hooked). Sometimes you just sit back and watch the two boys bicker back and forth. It’s hysterical how they decide to argue through text since you’re sure both of them are probably in the same room together, but you appreciate them keeping you in the loop. 

At this point they’ve already virtually met Karli. She’s been in the background of one or two of your facetimes. You’re glad she approves of them instantly and you wonder if it has a little something to do with their, especially Scarlet’s, boyish charms. She does keep you grounded though, never failing to mention how it’s suspicious that you don’t know their real names yet.

“I don’t think they mean any harm and they seem genuinely nice,” she had reassured, “But you gotta admit not telling you their names is a little sketch.”

You just shrugged. “They have their reasons.”

Internally you do believe she has a point. Even though you don’t want to force information out of the boys, you’re a naturally curious person. Your mind has already compiled a list of all the unusual facts you’ve discovered about them. 

A couple of things have become clear to you over the span of the last few months. The most important fact is that although they share tons of content with you, you still have no idea what they do for a living. You’re also 90% sure they don’t have an owner since there’s never anyone else around them. Another, more interesting fact is that you suspect they’re actually pretty wealthy. Every time you facetime, they’re in some sort of lavish looking hotel penthouse, with fancy furniture and artwork hanging in the background. They also dress designer, occasionally flashing their Balenciaga hats, or little Gucci necklaces, or other fancy logos your peasant-ass is unfamiliar with. You actually googled one of Hazel’s t-shirts from your most recent facetime, having no idea what the FG logo stood for. You remember your eyes bulging out of your head after discovering his plain white shirt with two black letters cost more than $200. TWO HUNDred dollars?!!! Do you know how much food and gas you could buy with $200? Why in the fuck would he spend that much on a shirt??

If only you knew how much their watches cost.

Friday rolls around faster than you can blink and before you know it, you’re rushing home from work to get ready. Bryce texted you for the first time on Wednesday to see if you wanted sushi (hell yeah you did) and you were fortunate enough to notify your boss so you could be let out early. You’ve been such a work horse the last few months that they had no choice but to let you leave in advance. 

So far Bryce seems nice enough but you can’t get a proper gauge of his character through text. Oh well, guess you’ll find out tonight.

The sushi place you’re meeting at is on the fancier side, and includes a bar. Knowing yourself, if there’s a bar, there’s no car, which means you won’t be driving. The last thing you want is to leave your car parked somewhere sketchy overnight cause you accidentally got too tipsy to drive. You like to think you have some semblance of control but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

You were let out at 4, which means you have only 2 hours to get ready. As soon as you get home you sprint to your closet at lightning speed. You rummage through your drawers, hoping to find something, ANYthing, that’s appropriate for this occasion. For one quick second, your eyes dart to your forbidden drawer, aka the ho drawer. It contains the remains of your slutty party dresses and tops from college. Being the hoarder that you are, you never like throwing away things, even if you have no need for them anymore. Wait, what the hell am I thinking? You snap your eyes back to the rest of your closet. You’re going for sushi, not to dance at some club. Besides, you have no intention of sleeping with anyone tonight.

After an hour of deciding on a suitable outfit you finally start on your makeup. Your work makeup has dried up, and now feels gross and cakey on your face, so you remove it all and start anew. At least you had the decency to shower this morning so your hair isn’t too gross.

The place is around a 10 minute Uber ride away but you took your sweet ass time getting ready so now you’re in a frenzy. When your phone buzzes, signaling your driver is here, you swipe on some lipstick last minute, grab some chunky heels, and practically fly out the door. 

You stare out the window of your ride, wondering why you’re lowkey wishing you could spend Friday night at home watching tv instead, or even just spending the evening facetiming two hot hybrids. This all feels a little too rushed. But no, you shake your head and attempt to hype yourself up. C’mon Y/N this is the first real date you’ve been on in ages. At least TRy and be a little more motivated. 

The car pulls up and you thank the driver, stepping out into the warm night air. August is still hot, even in the evenings, and you’re glad you didn’t bring a cardigan. Bryce has already texted you, letting you know he was inside, sitting at your reserved spot. You take a deep breath. Ok, time to put on your game face. You strut in, trying your very best to push the faces of two very good-looking friends out of your mind.

You spot Bryce in a corner, head buried in his phone, his wavy blonde hair not easy to miss. You slide in the seat across from him, prompting him to quickly look up and flash you an easygoing smile.

“Hello there!”

“Hi!” You chuckle nervously. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“Not all all!” He slides his phone back in his pocket, smile still on his face. “You’re just in time.”

A waiter comes by and you both take your orders. You make sure to order a drink because you have a feeling you’ll need the liquid courage to strike up more conversation. Maybe some sake will help ease you.

The first couple minutes are kinda awkward, not gonna lie. Bryce tries to get you to talk about work and you do answer him, but honestly work is the last thing you want to discuss right now. You try to shift the conversation to his job, but that only ends up being worse as he quickly launches into the ins and outs of life as an accountant. Maybe your two hybrids friends have spoiled you because you barely remember the last time you had to fill empty space with small talk.

When the food comes you quietly sigh a breath of relief, hoping the sushi in front of you will help you both get settled and give you time to think of more interesting topics to talk about.

“So,” you wrack your brain, “let’s get to know each other more! Like, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” That’s got to be a safe enough question.

“Hm, I’m actually more of a yogurt kinda guy, ice cream’s not really my thing.”

You freeze, California roll halfway to your mouth. Ok, ok, cool, cool. So he doesn’t like ice cream, that’s fine. You sweat a little. Hurry Y/N think of something else to ask.

“Yeah, I guess that’s not everybody’s thing.” You grimace. “Then what about, i don’t know, cookies? What’s your favorite kinda cookie?”

“Actually I prefer crackers, you know, like the saltine ones? Cookies can be too sweet sometimes.” He’s devouring his dragon roll, not noticing the panic in your eyes. He’s caught you off guard twice today.

This isn’t going well and you’re genuinely surprised because you know Karli has done her research, certain that you two would get along. Guess life really likes to throw you some curveballs. 

Who the fuck prefers crackers over cookies anyway?? Ok. Code red! Change the fucking subject before the silence becomes unbearable. Your dessert-related ice breakers had never failed you before but there’s always a first for everything, you guess.

You take a generous swig of sake. “Right, crackers are... good.” You’re mumbling at this point. “Ok, um, what about hobbies? Got any?” Please throw me a fucking bone here! Your mind is reeling but externally you try to act calm and composed, dabbing at the corner or you mouth delicately with a napkin.

“Oh yeah!” His face lights up. Oh thank god. “Do you like football? Me and my buddies at the office sorta formed this team, and we play against other departments. It’s really fun! You should come by and watch sometime!”

“Uh, sure!” Football. Huh. The last time you were anywhere near a football was when you met someone from your college team at a bar. Well he wasn’t holding a football per se, but that counts right? You only remember how much of a douche he was, trying to hit on one of the girls from your group after getting entirely too wasted.

“Awesome! I’ll hit you up when the next game is set!” It’s almost impressive how he doesn’t notice all the tension emitting from your body. In fact, you have a feeling he’s actually enjoying himself and your company.

The rest of the dinner goes by in the same manner. With him happily answering all your questions and you slowly discovering just how little you both have in common.

He is a gentleman though, that you can’t deny. When all the food has been cleared away he immediately swoops in to pay the bill, ignoring your insistence at paying for your half at least. He really isn’t a bad person, just the opposite. Besides your difference in interests, he is a sweet guy overall, and you do find him to be physically attractive. There’s just no spark, no silver lining that keeps you wanting more. When you both get out of your seats he offers to drive you back to your place but you politely decline. You say it’s because you don’t want to trouble him but in reality you need space for yourself to think.

As soon as you arrive home you take off your shoes and plop yourself down on the couch, running your hands through your hair. You check your phone, a few notifications from ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ popping up.

Scarlet: Do you think she’s done with her date yet??

Hazel: Hey Y/N how was it?

You had told them about this date beforehand and they were excited to root for you, which did bruise your ego a bit since it reaffirmed your unreturned attraction to them, but also prompted you to go through with it. This last notification was from 45 minutes ago but you couldn’t reply since you were still at dinner.

You: hi I just got back!

You don’t expect them to respond right away but to your surprise:

Scarlet: And???

You: it was meh

Hazel: That bad huh?

You: no nothing like that!

You: he’s really cute and all, it’s just we basically have nothing in common

Scarlet: Aww poor Y/N (sad emojis)

Hazel: Hey happens to the best of us

Hazel: Actually I wouldn’t know cause I’ve only been with fox boy

You: thanks anyway, i appreciate it Hazel

Maybe it’s cause you’re a little tipsy, or maybe you just feel so open and vulnerable around them tonight, but the next text you send is especially honest.

You: ughhh idk guys i’m just so lonely!!! why can’t things just work out for me for once! Like the first real date I go on in years and this happens :(

They don’t respond for a long time. So long in fact you start to get worried that you exposed too much about yourself.

15 minutes pass by but to you it feels like hours. You’ve already removed all your makeup and changed into your pajama shirt. You relocate to your bed, checking your phone again, thinking of a way to play off your last text as a joke when:

Hazel: If you’re so lonely maybe you could adopt?

You grin to yourself, glad that they’re not being judgmental. Their concern for you resets your mood.

You: ha ha you know my apartment doesn’t allow pets

You: but honestly if i could i would, cause i’d definitely get a little kitty

Hazel: I’m flattered

You: thanks but i meant a real cat

Hazel: Either way i’m flattered

Scarlet: HEY what about foxes??

You: pretty sure owning a pet fox is illegal here Scar

Scarlet: (angry emojis)

Hazel: You heard what the lady said

You: anyways i’m going to bed

You: thanks for making me feel better guys <3

Hazel: Anytime

Scarlet: But hypothetically if foxes weren’t illegal you’d get a pet fox right??

You: of course i would sweetie

Scarlet: (happy emojis)

Scarlet: Yay!!! Goodnight Y/N!

Hazel: Night Y/N

You: night boys

You wake up next morning on your own time, checking your phone to see that you slept in till 11am. Wow, you haven’t slept that well in a while. Maybe it’s the stress from the previous weeks of non stop working, or the pressure to maintain your composure last night, but either way you knocked out like a rock. You sit up, lean back, and stretch your arms as far as they can go.

Today you’re meeting Karli at her place up north. She couldn’t ask you about last night since she was occupied, her seven year anniversary with her boyfriend Sunny coinciding with your date. But she assured you a couple days ago over facetime that today was going to be a girl’s day, no boyfriend included.

“Hey!” Sunny had popped out of nowhere in the video when he heard the news, a look of mock shock on his face. “I live here too! So what, you're just gonna kick me out of the house and leave me on the streets to starve?”

“My god stop being dramatic!” Karli had shoved him playfully off the screen. “I need girl time with Y/N and it’s not girl time if you’re in the house.”

“I can be one of the girls! Right Y/N?” He sounded betrayed.

“I know you can but I’m not the one who makes the rules.” You pointed out.

He sighed. “You got me there.”

Since you’re just spending time at Karli’s and getting takeout, you felt zero need to dress up. You washed your face, threw on an oversized t-shirt some old hookup left at your place (hey it was cute) and some tights, and tied your hair out of your face. This entire process took less than 30 minutes and next thing you know you’re ready to head out.

You sent Karli a quick text, letting her know you’re on the way. You grab a bottle of prosecco, your purse, and keys, saying a quick goodbye to your roommate Ayah on your way out. She gives you a small wave, reminding you that she, yet again, has to leave today for a whole week. You backtrack to give her a quick goodbye hug, telling her to drive safe, before you take off.

Karli’s place isn’t as far as the beach coffeehouse you frequent, but it’s still located in the wealthier side of town. The drive lasts a good 20 minutes but it feels a lot faster since you spend the whole time singing along to your favorite songs.

You pull up to Karli’s apartment complex, driving yourself to the guest parking space. Her apartment building is pretty tall, with a distant, but gorgeous view of the beach. 

Karli squeals when she opens the door, immediately giving you a big hug. When you break apart you hold up the bottle of prosecco in your hand, waving it in front of her face.

“I know you have the ingredients here so let’s make some spritz!”

“Yay!”

Aperol spritz is your favorite at-home drink to make with Karli. She had gone on a short trip to Italy in the summer between her two years at grad school and tried the drink there, completely falling in love. She googled the recipe, made it for you one day, you had said “Oh FUck that’s good!”, and the rest is history.

She grabs the bottle and quickly relocates it to her kitchen. Her energy levels are sky high today and you wonder what’s got her so elated. She’s skipping everywhere she goes, there’s a permanent smile etched on her face, and she’s humming non stop as she pulls you away from the front entrance.

Sunny emerges from the hallway, two hands in the air in surrender.

“I’m heading out, I swear!”

Sunny is a big teddy bear of a man, with tattoos splayed across his arms and a well-kept beard. There’s a term you learned online called ‘lumbersexual’ and that’s exactly the word to describe Sunny. He almost reminds you of Jason Momoa, the actor who played Aquaman. Those who just meet him think he looks intimidating at first but once you get past his height and size, you see just how much of a softie he is. He’s also extremely intelligent, working somewhere in the computer industry developing software.

Karli bounds over to him and gives him a big snuggly hug and tiptoes all the way up to give a quick kiss to his lips.

“Have fun babe! Love you!”

“Love you too! Also bye Y/N!”

“Bye Sunny have fun!” You smile as he treads out the door.

You both head to the kitchen and start making your drinks.

“Aren’t you extra chipper today!” You mention as you pour a splash of club soda into your glass.

“Am I?” She doesn’t look at you, wearing a mysterious grin, stirring her mixture with a straw.

After you both finish making your drinks, you head to her living room and settle onto her plush sofa.

Karli yawns, almost too dramatically, covering her left hand over her mouth. You quirk your eyebrow at her, wondering why she’s acting so weird until you spot it. There’s something large, something shiny, on her left ring finger.

“Oh my god….” Your entire mouth hangs open. “Oh my GOD!!! Is THAT…?”

“Yep!”

“Did HE -?”

“Yep!!”

“AND YOU - ?

“YEP I DID!!”

“YOU’RE ENGAGED?!?!?!”

“I KNOW!!!!”

What happens after is a shriek rivaling that of a pterodactyl taking flight after spotting prey, except the sound is just the two of you screaming and jumping up and down in Karli’s living room.

You bring her into a tight hug, so emotional that you’re about to tear up. And you’re not one to cry that easily.

“I’m so happy for you!” You pull apart and wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

“Thank you! I’m so happy too!” Her smile is also a little watery. “Like I knew he was gonna do it soon since we’ve been together so long but I’m still shocked you know?”

“I know!” 

“And I’m sorry. Today was supposed to be me asking about your date last night.” She dabs at her eyes. “Bryce really likes you too. He even texted me thanking me for introducing you!!”

“Oh shit...” You take this chance to drink your Aperol spritz. “I’m gonna be completely honest with you. It’s true he’s cute but there was no spark.” You give her an apologetic grin, knowing she really wanted this to work out for you. “Like don’t get me wrong he’s super nice and stuff but I just couldn’t find anything we have in common. I can’t believe he’s still into me?!” 

“Aw I’m sorry babe.” She pouts. “I really did think you would be a good match.”

“It’s ok. Anyways,” you wave her off, bringing up the more important subject at hand. “I’d much rather talk about your engagement! Like, hello?? You’re getting married, girl!!

Another squeal. You really hope her neighbors don’t complain.

“I know!! I literally don’t know what to think!” She smiles wistfully, like she’s on cloud nine, then brings her attention back to you. “Also you’re the maid of honor and you can’t back out of that.”

“I would never!” You gasp dramatically, one hand clutching your chest.

“But don’t worry!” She sets her drink down. “The wedding’s not happening till next year at least. We don’t have to start planning till way later.”

The rest of the day you spend chatting to Karli, prompting her to spill every single detail about the proposal. Even though you have no need to help her plan a wedding just yet, you can’t hold back from offering some ideas that spring to mind.

“I got it!!” You shout.

“You got what?”

“Hear me out,” you may or may not be a little tipsy at this point. “Goth wedding!” You say with jazz hands. Then you reach down to take another sip of your drink.

“Hmm…” She pretends to think about the idea, then giggles. “And that’s enough prosecco for you.” Plucking the glass out of your hand, she transfers it to her kitchen sink.

A couple more hours roll by. You both decide to watch a cheesy Netflix horror movie to sober up, paired with the Mexican takeout you ordered. By the time the credits roll, the sun has long since set, along with your alcohol buzz. You check the time on your phone, deciding it’s best to head home since poor Sunny has been respectfully out and about all day, giving you your girl time.

You give Karli one last big hug, murmuring into her hair how happy you are for her situation. She walks you to the apartment elevator, where you proceed to blow her a swift kiss right before the doors close in your face.

Reality sets in the moment you’re alone. Your head swims with thoughts as you drive back. Most of them are happy about your best friend’s engagement but you can’t discount the little ugly bubble of jealousy that wells down deep in your gut, reminding you of your own current situation. It’s not until you reach home that you realize you didn’t even play music in the car.

Ayah has long since gone on her business trip by the time you arrive at your apartment. The whole place looks dark and unwelcome, only highlighting the emptiness you feel inside. You trudge to your room and slump onto your bed. You try to scroll through social media as a way to distract yourself but you’re met, instead, by all the pictures and posts of happy people, showing off their achievements or bragging about their seemingly perfect lives.

You immediately lock your phone and throw it onto the blanket, the stress and anxiety from the last few months building to a boiling point in your mind. Your biggest concern is you still haven’t figured out your lease situation, and you only have two more months to move out or find someone new. Ayah has tried her best to help you but she’s bombarded by business trips so no luck so far. You let out a small groan and bury your head in the pillow, deciding to sleep it off and worry about your problems tomorrow, even though it’s not even that late.

Right as you’re about to drift off into dreamland, your phone rings. You fumble around the covers until it’s in your hands and check that you have a facetime call from your two favorite boys.

Immediately your body jerks awake and you sit up, swiping the answer button.

“Hey guys!”

“Hi Y/N!!” Scarlet’s heart-shaped smile is taking up most of the screen but you can see a sliver of white and grey hair behind him.

Hazel elbows him out of the way. “Sorry were you sleeping?” He tilts his head, ears twitching. “Wait, it’s only 10 pm where you’re at. You never sleep this early.”

“No I wasn’t... I mean, yeah I was trying to sleep but…”

You sigh. It’s their faces. Just seeing them through a screen, their wide, innocent eyes blinking up at you, makes you want to spill everything.

You nibble on your bottom lip for a moment. “I was just kinda having an existential crisis so I decided to sleep it off. No biggie.”

Scarlet’s eyebrows furrow in concern. After only two months, he can already tell when something is off with your tone of voice.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” He looks up for a bit, pausing to think. “Was it the date last night?”

“The date?” Oh yeah the date. Yet another thing that didn’t go well. You totally forgot about that can of worms. “Not really… or actually kinda?”

You try to reorganize your jumbled mess of a brain and put your thoughts into words.

“So you know how I said I was going to Karli’s today?”

“Mhm,” they nod at you to continue.

“Well turns out she got engaged last night.”

“That’s awesome! I’m so happy for her!” Scarlet bounces a little, then quickly returns to a more serious tone. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

“Yeah I’m happy for her too.” And you genuinely are.

You pause for another moment, teetering on the edge of playing your emotions off like it’s no big deal or exposing all of your concerns yet again. Your need for an outlet to vent to wins in the end. For the first time you find yourself unable to confide in Karli because you want her to be happy and focus on the engagement rather than to be preoccupied with you. Before you know it, the words flow from your mouth like running water.

“It’s just that her announcement really brought me back to earth, and I started thinking a little too much about my own life.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know… I feel pretty selfish right now because she’s doing so well and I just can’t help comparing my life to hers. I’m so proud of her but it’s like everything in her life is coming together and I just want that for me also.” You throw your hands up in frustration, almost knocking the phone off from where it leans on your pillow. “I mean we’re the same age for god's sake! Why can’t I get my shit together??”

“Well you should be proud of yourself though,” Hazel cuts in. “Cause we are.” He gestures to Scarlet and himself.

“Yeah!” Scarlet chimes. “I mean you’ve got a full time job and a place to stay. I know you don’t feel like it’s the most ideal situation right now but please don’t discredit yourself.”

“Thanks guys.” You calm down a bit, but then you remember the whole issue with your apartment. Scratching the back of your neck, a habit you’ve picked up whenever you’re nervous, you say in a much smaller voice, “although my ‘place to stay’ might not last much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Both boys’ eyebrows are raised in confusion.

You realize you never mentioned your living situation to them, the topic always pushed to the back of your mind whenever they initiated conversation.

“Yeah.” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “My lease ends soon and Ayah wants to move to a place of her own. And I have two months to figure out where to live or find another roommate.” You let out a frustrated huff. “She’s been so helpful but still no luck I guess.” You shrug in defeat.

You feel like a balloon that’s lost all its air, brain exhausted from running through all the problems in your life.

“Actually that’s pretty convenient for- ” Scarlet starts, but is elbowed again in the ribs by Hazel. “Ow!”

“Not yet!” The cat hisses quietly to him.

“Huh?” Now you’re confused. What in the world are they talking about?

Hazel turns back to you. “I’m really sorry about everything Y/N. If there’s anything we can do to help please let us know.” 

“Thanks buddy.” You offer him a small smile, choosing to ignore what just happened since they clearly don’t want to reveal anything just yet. 

Hazel then shifts to a more nervous stance, ears slightly flattening and both hands grabbing his floofy grey tail for comfort. It’s the cutest goddamn thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“So Y/N, um, there’s a reason we called you tonight.”

You’re glad for a change in subject, a much needed distraction away from your downward spiraling thoughts.

“Oh right! Yeah. What’s up guys?”

Scarlet steps in front of him again, blocking most of the screen.

“We have a surprise for you!” He’s so close to the camera that you can only see half of his unblemished face but from the way his eyes crinkle, you can tell he’s giddy with anticipation.

“A surprise- ?”

“Yeah!!”

Hazel nudges himself into view again. “Quit hogging the whole screen fox! I swear to god next time we’re using the tv. I can’t see anything! Anyways,” he turns to you and smooths his shirt, expression back to stoic, “are you free next weekend?”

“I should be. Why?” You’re still a little lost on what the surprise is.

“Cause we’re coming back to town!” Scarlet blurts out.

“You are?!” Suddenly all your negativity melts away, replaced by excitement. Hard to believe just five simple words can shift your mood a complete 180°.

“But wait, there’s more!” You snort at how much Scarlet sounded like an infomercial just now.

“We’d like to invite you to dinner next Saturday night. If that’s ok with you?” Hazel isn’t as physically expressive as Scarlet but the hopeful shine in his eyes gives himself away.

You melt at his expression, heart rate speeding up. “Of course that’s ok! I’d love to!”

“Great!” He flashes one of his rare gummy smiles. “Saturday night. 7 pm. We’ll text you the details.”

“Yep!” Scarlet pipes in. “There’s something important we gotta ask- !” He lets out a small gasp, tail bristling, and clamps a hand over his mouth as if he just said something he shouldn’t have.

“What’s important?” You’ve gotta admit, your curiosity is at its peak right now, and it doesn’t help that they’re acting a little weird today.

Hazel rubs his temples in exasperation, groaning at Scarlet. “What part of ‘not yet’ did you not understand?” He then addresses you. “Sorry Y/N I promise we’ll tell you when we see you in person.” 

“Ok.” Cool. That’s fine. You’re a little nervous about what they have to say and it’ll be torture to wait but you’re a big girl and you can handle not knowing for a week. “I can’t wait to see you guys!!” you added.

“Me too!” Scarlet’s personality is so bubbly and contagious that you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Same.” Hazel lets out a small yawn. “Well we’re in a different time zone than you and it’s really late here so I gotta hit the hay.”

“Mk, go get your beauty sleep.” You give them a little wave. “And thanks for everything. I mean it.”

“No problem Y/N.” Scarlet also gives off a yawn, stretching his tired limbs. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

After ending the facetime call, you lie on your back, staring at the ceiling. Your mind is active once again, but this time it’s not clouded with self-deprecating thoughts. Instead, you spend the remainder of the evening theorizing about the ‘important’ things the boys have to tell you. Maybe you’ll finally find out their real names. Or maybe they’ll reveal something else about themselves, like why they’re constantly travelling, or what they actually do for a living. Either way you can’t wait for next Saturday to come around.

Previous | Next

[captainjimothycarter]

Director Carter, Badass peggy being in charge of everyone and everyone being scared/intimidated by her, especially the newbies, including but not limited to coulson, hill, may, etc

Oh my God Y E S. So I’m sorry I just kept rambling on. You can figure out the timeline, because I can’t, lmao.

--

Director Peggy Carter knew she was a hard woman, knew she was intimidated by extreme means and that’s how she wanted it to be. She’s lived her life, a woman in this career where she’s frowned down at for being a woman while working in the military. Where doors have been shut in her face, where she’s been talked down to, looked over for promotions despite she’s the best choice for the matter next to another Agent, bluntly ignored, or even had her sex used against her.

Peggy Carter was a hard woman because life her that way, because she knew the life of an agent because she knew that the world would not be easy on an agent because he was new. There were crazy things out there and she had the feeling they were just barely scratching the surface – starting with Schmidt and Steve and there was no end in sight.

Her age was not something these agents would use against her either – they knew better. She was harder and stronger because of all she’s done in her age. Sneaking behind her officer’s back as Captain America’s liaison, ignoring bluntly given orders? It was the first of many things she’s done quite illegal that should have her still sitting in jail if she did her math right. Her only saving grace was her quick wit and skills – and of course a few close friends in good places.

Howard Stark and Chester Phillips had pulled her ass out of the fire more times than she could count and Peggy was grateful for them. Phillips knew her worth better than anyone but also knew how to play the game. He knew how the world worked and fought back against it in his own means. What may seem like him yelling at Peggy for disobeying an order was his way of giving her what she needs. It wasn’t like he could stop her anyway – a lesson he learned quite well during the war and after.

Phillips had appointed her Director of Shield when he was ready to retire, claiming he was tired, and Peggy knew it was his age getting up to him. He’d left her in the perfect position with people they trusted to continue the work that he’d started and left his own files and notes for her, so she wasn’t alone. His death had hit her hard and reminded Peggy no one was immune to death – not that she needed a reminder. It just reminded her all the same of what was at stake here and how she had to do her job, no matter what these agents thought.

--

The knock on the door caused the Director to raise her head, glancing down at her withered watch to read it was nearing midnight. She hadn’t been aware of the time or the fact she was burning the midnight oil – no wonder she was exhausted. Her eyes were burning and she had to sigh and rub at her face.

“Come in,” she croaked, standing up to pour herself a glass of water. She wasn’t surprised when the door opened to see their new agent enter – a young Phillip Coulson. “Ah. You’re finally back. I was wondering when you would be coming in. Are you hurt?”

Her eyes scanned over his body, taking note of the gauze peeking from his collarbone and the burned ends of his dress shirt.

“A little,” Phil admitted with a slight shrug. “No more than normal. I wasn’t sure if you were in but I wanted to drop off the mission report before I left. The mission was a success – we retrieved the 084 and it’s currently being investigated by Stark and his men.”

Poise. Proper. This man would make a fine agent, Peggy was sure once she’s whipped him into shape. She can’t think she’s had any problem with him actually. While it wasn’t her job to train agents, Peggy liked to give a personal hand unless something called her away. She wanted her agents to be aware from day one when she recruited them that she was their direct boss, that she not only signed their paycheck but was the reason they were here. She handpicked every single one of them.

“That’s great.” She tossed the file on the desk, intending to take it home and read it while in the bath. She deserved that at least. “You may leave. We’ll resume training tomorrow. Be sure your friends are on time this time. I don’t feel like waiting.”

--

“What was that?” Peggy asked, her tone sharp as she rounded on Hill. “Agent Hill, I believe I asked you a question. What. Was. That.”

The woman’s head snapped up, a strand of her hair escaping the high bun and sticking to her sweaty forehead. She looked on the edge and devilish, unable to focus. Good, that’s how Peggy wanted them. It was beyond boiling in this room, the thermostat read nearing 90 degrees in a small room. She wanted nothing more than to strip down to her slip but the Director hadn’t even removed her scarf.

The sand beneath them blew across their face, feeling like sand hitting her and making her skin raw. No doubt a cold shower was in their future. If they got out of this room. They stood in a room simulated to be a desert, the humidity quickly rising by the hour, making their throats ache for a drop of water. The weather was designed to put them on edge, to stress any agent out. They were to think and act. A few agents were spread out in the room, hidden behind various objects. Hill had just an hour beforehand to read the files quickly and choose which was her current target. She had one choice, one ‘bullet’.

And of course, Hill chose wrong.

“A mistake, ma’am,” Hill replied in a soft tone, her eyes snapping to Peggy. “I-I panicked.”

“You panicked.” Peggy’s fingers snapped and all at once the simulation ended, an agent slid down from the top of a dune and tumbled down to end up at their feet. She helped pick him up and brushed him off. “Agent Hill, I am aware of how this situation is, how you’re in a stressful situation, but this is what life is like on the field. You have very little time to choose and remember which one is your enemy, your target in a stressful situation. Sometimes you don’t even get files, sometimes you don’t even get five minutes. If that had been a real bullet, a real situation then that man would be dead and I would be left with the fact to tell his family that their father is not alive because of your mistake.”

Peggy’s sharp eyes never left Hill’s face, seeing the realization they both knew sinking in. Her head slowly nodded before she looked down at the agent she ‘killed’, his vest splattered with red paint. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“No, you won’t. Let’s take a break, then we’ll try this again. Go wash up, Agent, and get some water.” She patted the young agent on the shoulder, watching Hill being the first to leave the room. Peggy sighed heavily and rubbed at her temples. Agents made mistakes, she told herself, Gods know she’s made a few of her own.

--

“What do you call that?” Peggy mused, cocking her eyebrow at Coulson as they looked in on the darkened figure sitting chained to the desk. A faux interrogation, but Coulson believed it to be real. To his knowledge, they’d gotten a suspect in for the deadly gas that was threatened to explode half of Manhattan.

It was an interrogation they’d set up for weeks, slowly spreading information, letting it seem real as possible, to even Howard designing a fake formula for their use. They had to go to these extremes, clean up included to train her agents. Peggy would not take anything less here, damnit.

Coulson’s eyes snapped to her from the side of the room, licking his dry lips. He’d become nervous and wary of her over the past few weeks, her clear reputation getting around Shield. “Ma’am?” He turned to look at her, finally turning his back to the perp. “Call what, ma’am? I looked at his file, I asked him questions.”

“You asked him questions that anyone could fake answers to! You need to get in his head, you –“ Peggy was cut off at the perp running into the glass, Coulson jumping away and turning to see the man standing against the glass, dragging the table with him despite he was cuffed. “I want you to handle him. Now. I need to go on a conference call but when I come back, you better have some answers – more so than I can find from reading his file.”

She paused and turned to read Coulson’s expression. He was soft, too soft and it made her heart pull at a reminder of Daniel. “Agent Coulson, you must become used to these interrogating techniques and think outside the box because I can guarantee you that half the perps that we have in there have already thought of what to say when they’re in here. And fifteen different ways to get out of those cuffs and to get into your head. You have got to be five steps ahead of them or I’m afraid you won’t make it as an agent. At least not fieldwork. Now, excuse me.”

The call lasted less than an hour, plenty of time for the brunette to grab a cup of coffee and wander back into the interrogation room. She found Coulson sitting on the other side of the glass again as if he’s never left and staring down at the file. She could see his scribble and notes he’s made while she was gone. The man on the other side, she noticed as the lights flicked on from her arrival sported raw spots on his wrists.

“He has a fear of snakes,” Coulson mused, snapping the file closed. “The wonders you can do with Stark technology at your hand and a few scenes from Indiana Jones. I believe you’ll find everything inside is all you need to know on the formula and the counter effect.”

Peggy’s fingers closed around the file and snapped it open, her eyes skimming over the pages. A smile pulled on her red-stained lips and nodded. “Very good, Agent Coulson. Remember these techniques for later.

--

“Director?” Fury stopped in his steps, looking down at the small file that Peggy had given him two days prior. It was late at night, meaning this man had stayed up late, not like she was in any better position. Two agents had just gone missing out of the blue and she couldn’t figure out why.

“I thought we talked about knocking?” Peggy sighed, waving the man inside and watching him collapse in the opposite seat of her desk.

“No, you talked about knocking. I pretended to listen.” Peggy’s eyes snapped to him and all the co-director could do was a smirk. “Listen, I’ve been reading over this proposal you gave me and…no.”

“What do you mean no, Agent? Those are your only two options. You are Co-Director and have to make decisions without my regard. Yes, the files will pass my desks but not all of them I will be able or have time to approve of. Are you telling me you want to take back your promotion, Agent?”

Fury was silent for a beat, Peggy counted watching his chest rise and fall. She could see the gears turning in his head. The way he held himself, his hand gripping his kneecap to a frightening point.

“No,” he said finally, breaking the silence between them. “I do not, Director. I mean that I am not listening to your asinine directions here. I mean no disrespect, ma’am but I believe there’s another course of action here that won’t put so many lives at risk and still give us the intel that we need, and rescue our two missing agents.”

Peggy smirked as she sat up and take a long drink of the bourbon she’s had sitting on her desk. “I see,” she sighed, as if it pained her to look through the file Fury had given her. “Very good, Director Fury.”

“This…was a test?” She could see the frustration growing in his eyes. “I already sent my agents out!”

“Of course this was a test! You will be tested many times while under me. You need to know when to make the hard calls when to see that your only two options are not your only options. You need to see there is much more than what meets the eyes.” She paused in her sip of the drink and cleared her throat. “You already sent your agents out?”

“Of course I did! I-“

“Good.” She cut him off, Fury raising a brow at her. “Because then you’re two steps ahead of me and the situation. Because that’s what I want. You’ve done well. Now go monitor your agents and the situation and report back to me when they’re home. You might make a fine Director just yet.”

--

Agent May. Melinda May. Her mother had shortly worked for Shield before being recruited elsewhere, claiming Shield’s life was not for her. If her daughter was anything like her, Peggy knew her hands were full and that was fine with her.

Just the challenge of Agent May was far more challenging then Peggy had imagined. The woman was a fine agent, she was great at combat, never wanted a weapon until she needed it and by then, she’d get it herself. She was great in training, and in just about every area but one.

Espionage. Keeping a low profile. Pretending to be someone else. To keep your head low and level and keep to the situation, until you had no other choice.

“I have not forgotten my spy days,” Peggy told May with a roll of her eyes. “I am still a spy, a codebreaker if you want to add another term to it. What you’re doing….” She waved her hand with a frustrated sound. “You’re awkward. You need to fall into the role easily, at the drop of a hat. You can’t help who you will be working with or what you’ll have to do to survive and get out of the building.”

“Knowing you it was guns blazing,” May smirked, leaning into the opposite wall and pulling her hair up into a bun.

“Don’t believe rumors that you hear,” Peggy mused. “It was not just guns blazing. It was sneaking around my own agents, my own bosses back to get the information we needed, that I needed. I’ve had to dance with many sexist men who loved to squeeze my ass in order to just get out of the building. Did I want to knock some sense into them? Yes, I did but I refrained from doing so.”

May looked at her up and down, chewing on the inside of her lip. She knew her problems in dropping her guard and trusting her partner if she had one. She knew the problem to fall into a role, keep that guard up, but not act if things went wrong. It was a frustrating feeling.

“Let’s go through this one more time?” She asked, causing the Director to rise from her seat and smile. “You sure you should be walking on that broken leg?”

“Don’t you worry about me, Agent. I’ve had much worse. Remind me to tell you about the time I was pierced by a piece of rebar.”

--

It was another late night for Director Carter. Save for the night crew, she was one of the few remaining people here. Fury had just left a few hours ago, muttering about not hearing from Coulson for a few days now. Last she checked, the man was still on a mission Fury had set him on with a suspected 084 in the Arctic.

Habit caused her to think of Steve and the fallen plane, but she knew better than to give herself false hope. She couldn’t survive on false hope alone.

Her personal phone ringing caused her to jump, frowning at the undisclosed number. No agent had her personal number, so who would be calling her? Frowning, she had no choice but to answer.

“This better be good,” she sighed. “Enough to risk calling my personal number, Agent.”

“Ma’am? Director.” It was Coulson. She could hear the wind-breaking up the man’s words. He had to practically shout in her ear. “I had no choice, ma’am. Too many bugs.” Wherever he moved to, Peggy could hear him a little better. His words started to echo. “We found him.”

Her heart leaped to her throat, but still, she couldn’t allow false hope. “Him who, exactly?” Could it be…

“We found him, ma’am,” Coulson murmured just for her to hear. “We found Steve Rogers. He’s alive.”

[dastardlydandelion]

respice finem

ao3 link

content warnings: referenced violence and abuse

part one link

obligatory irl inspo link

Max keeps pacing up and down the diameter of the room. She stretches her hands over her head and Billy thinks her protective hovering is starting to bug the nurses. They both stayed overnight but Billy’s at least taken a couple breaks. He got himself some Doritos from the vending machine. Borrowed and smoked a cigarette even though he virtually quit a couple years back. Took a short drive to a Kmart up the road and bought Max a change of clothes, supposing he wouldn’t able to get her anything of her own if her home was wrapped in caution tape.

“You wanna go down to the cafeteria, maybe? Get something to eat?”

“Not hungry.”

“Okay…did you know they have a gift shop? Wanna go check it out?”

“No.”

“Do you—“

“I’m not leaving, Billy.” Max’s eyes glitter in a stubborn glower.

“Oh, but maybe you should, sweetheart,” Susan says softly. “You’re getting restless.”

“I’m fine.”

“You should get out of this stuffy room. Go for a stroll, stretch your legs. I would if I could.”

Pure heartbreak flashes across Max’s face and Billy feels his own lurch.

“Oh dear, bad joke.” Susan frowns and flaps her hand, the tube connecting it to the IV pouch swaying gently in the air. “That was in poor taste, I apologize. But I do think you need to get some fresh air, Max. I’ll be fine.”

Max pauses. Her hands come together and she taps her thumbs together as she mulls it over.

“I’d feel better if you stayed here.” Max shifts her gaze to Billy.

“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” he says honestly. Max is obviously wired and getting more antsy by the minute but Billy is the opposite. He’s wiped out after driving for several hours straight and aching from head to toe after scrapping with his dad.

“…alright,” Max relents after a very long moment. “I’ll be back in fifteen.”

She gently swipes the back of her hand over her mother’s cheek. Susan blinks contentedly and hums in approval as Max trudges off to the door. She leaves. Susan's gaze flickers to Billy and then down. She frowns at the guardrail of the bed and uncertainly pushes at it with her palm.

“What’re you doing, Sue?”

“I don’t need this. I’m not going to roll out of bed.” She continues pushing at the guardrail but her efforts are weak and uncoordinated. Even if she had more power and precision behind her pushes, Billy’s pretty sure these things aren’t designed to be collapsed from the patient’s position.  

“It’s fine, just leave it alone.”

“No,” she refuses, eyes narrowing. “It’s in my way, Billy. It’s separating us.”

Something knocks loose inside his chest. Billy hasn’t seen her in three months. He hadn’t been particularly sure he’d ever see her again.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give it a go. Here.” He sighs out and messes with the thing and after a couple tries and a few silent shrieks from his very sore shoulders, he finally figures out how to get the damn rail lowered, adjusting it accordingly.

“Thank you so much,” Susan breathes. “Now it's easier to do this.”

She stretches out her slender fingers and rests her hand upon his knee. She gives it a couple dulcet pats. Her pinky pokes inside the fraying tear in the denim, soft pad of her fingertip cool against his skin. Billy swallows, wonders how much he is allowed to touch. She wouldn’t be this affectionate with him if she knew.

“It’s my fault Neil found you and Max,” Billy admits, heart pumping guilt like sludge in his veins. “It’s my fault he almost killed you.”

“What?” Susan stares at with owlish eyes.

“I wanted to send Max a gift in the mail,” Billy explains, speaking slowly and plainly. “I hid it under my bed. My dad saw it when he raided my room looking for some shit he thought I stole from him. That’s how he got your address. I tried to stop him, Susan. But I couldn’t…I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Billy.” Susan signs, rubbing her lips together. Her hand travels from his knee to his wrist and she gently pushes up his jacket cuff. Billy doesn’t stop her. He watches her eyes darken at the sight of the bruises.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“You said it was a gift for Max?”

“Yeah…new skateboard.”

“I wish you would’ve just driven over to drop it off. Because if you came over, you would’ve seen how nicely we decorated our little duplex…you could’ve seen my darling little gnomes sipping tea and these delightfully clever novelty magnets Max found for the refrigerator. You could’ve sat on our couch and while it’s a bit worn— we got it secondhand —it’s very comfy. Maybe if you saw how nice everything was and sat in our cushy, comfy couch, you wouldn’t have wanted to leave.”

Billy gapes at her, noncomprehending. He just confessed he’s the reason she almost got killed. That it's his fault his dad literally broke into her home to beat her to death with a wrench. And Susan doesn’t seem angry at all. He knows she's on the good shit, but still. She's not out of it. She heard what he said. Ahd she is frowning but it’s a more fretful expression than anything, dimple between her eyebrows, forehead crinkled in concern.

“I waited for you, Billy.”

Oh.

“We talked about this before you left, Susan,” Billy gently reminds her. “I told you why I chose to stay. Remember?”

“You wanted to protect us,” she murmurs, thumb chary as she rolls it over his bruised wrist. “Me and Max.”

Billy solemnly nods his head.

“Mm…” Susan’s eyes rove the room and then settle back on him as her lips curl into a doleful smile. “How well do you suppose that turned out?”

Billy’s eyes travel along the chest tube to the rectangular drainage unit on the floor, the printed numbers and increments he doesn’t really understand. Glances to her legs elevated on the pillows. The right one was more badly broken. Not badly enough to require surgery, but still too swollen for a hard cast. The swelling in her left went down and Susan got fitted for a cast just a couple hours ago. The dark purple color she picked matches the massive bruise that currently blooms across most of Billy’s back.

“I’m sorry.” He bows again even though it hurts, it hurts, he’s goddamn sore but not as sore as he is sorry. Billy feels the knot tremble in his throat and he is possibly more sorry than he’s ever been anything else in his life. There is a beast in his belly with a thousand guilty eyes and shame in every one of its silent, miserable cries.

“No, no, raise your head. Don’t— it’s not your fault, Billy.” He feels Susan’s hand sweep the fringe from his face in a few quick motions, delicate and deft. “Won’t you look at me?”

Warily, he glances up. Susan’s eyes are misting up as he feels his own stinging again. Shit. Max is going to kill him if he makes her mother cry.

“I am the one who needs to apologize," Susan declares. "For the life of me, I couldn’t convince you to come with us. I failed you.”

“What?” Billy scoffs in disbelief. “No, that’s not on you. I’m stubborn, I’m—“

“I am the adult,” Susan cuts him off, voice sharp even as her hand rests against his cheek lamb gentle. “The real adult, you're barely twenty. You did what you thought was best but I’m older and I knew better, and I couldn’t make you see it. I let you stay, I left you in the lion’s den.”

Billy doesn't really see it that way. He doesn't feel like a child, doesn't want to be treated as one. And he's no longer Neil's legally, albeit he's been nowhere near financially independent. Couldn't work for a long time after that gruesome nightmare turned reality that was the worst fucking Fourth of July ever. Had to fork over all his paychecks to Neil even after he could go back to work— supposedly put toward residual medical bills insurance didn't cover, but hell if Billy truly trusted any excuse Neil could and would hold over his head. In any case, that's not entirely why he stayed with Neil. And staying with Neil wasn't even exactly the same thing as not going with Susan and Max, but abandonment wasn't a factor in the equation at all. He doesn't feel that way, how could Susan think that?

“You left me the address,” Billy pointedly reminds her and he does not let himself crane his face into her touch even though it’s cool and soft and he feels his stomach loosen with this, this featherlight clemency so careful and sweet.

Because of course he knows why he was left the address and it was never so he could mail packages.

“I should’ve grabbed you and dragged you to the car.” Susan doesn’t sound like she’s kidding.

“You could’ve,” Billy breathes and he’s not kidding either. “You’ve seen me get grabbed, Susan. I don’t fight it. Not in the house. Never did…not until he found that address.”

Susan’s thumb brushes away the tear that spills over, unbidden. Billy reaches out and does the same for hers.

“I’m not mad,” he promises in earnest.

“Neither am I. In fact, I’m…” Susan trails off, exhaling heavily as she draws her hand back from his cheek. “I don’t know, Billy. He was going to kill me. Maybe both of us and I could never say that I’m glad that happened because I am not. I am not glad Max had to see and do what she saw and did. I am not glad that at present, I cannot even stand without assistance. But…you’re here. You’re here because of what happened. Because of what happened, Neil…I never have to worry about Neil again. I never, ever have to look over my shoulder worrying about when he will find me because he already did.”

“That’s one way of looking on the bright side, I guess,” Billy mutters, voice hollow.

“Your father has done all the harm he will ever be able to do, to any of us, and now we’re together again. Isn’t there something to be said for that, Billy?”

He swallows thickly, nodding his head as he places his hand on the bed. Susan’s fingers slide over his and that’s how Max finds them when she returns.

“There you are,” Susan welcomes, smiling warmly. “That was a bit longer than fifteen minutes.”

Max freezes. “Did you need me?”

“No, honey, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just happy that you took a good break.”

Max visibly relaxes and shuffles over, lightly squeezing her mother’s upper arm. “I saw Neil.”

Billy exchanges a look of shock with Susan.

“Yeah, he had a new guard today and we talked for a couple minutes. Cool lady with a cool name, like some Greek Goddess name. She gave me a dollar for the vending machine and let me in his room.”

“Are you okay?” Susan frowns, worry crossing her features as her lashes flutter.

“Yeah, Mom. Neil doesn’t scare me anymore.” Max leans in and presses another kiss to the crown of her Susan’s head. Billy’s never seen her more affectionate than this, so doting and tender with her injured mother. “It was actually good. To see Neil like that…to know I did that. It confirms it, I guess? I mean not that I didn’t know, because obviously I know I didn't dream or hallucinate what happened, but…”

“Seeing is believing, perhaps?” Susan tilts her head, mussy red tresses shifting over the pillowcase.

“Yeah, like that. Seeing is believing, I guess. I saw the neck brace and the handcuffs and now I’m…well I’m not gonna turn into a badger every time you want me to take a break.” Max’s mouth quirks, expression sobering when she glances to Billy. “Are you gonna see him?”

“I don’t know,” Billy answers. He keeps thinking about it.

Maybe he’d feel better like Max does. Maybe he’d feel worse. He thinks he’d hate himself if he wound up having some scrap of sympathy. He thinks maybe he’d rip the pillow out from under his father’s head and smother the rest of the life out of him. He thinks he would have the opportunity to say everything he’s ever wanted to say but worries that he would not have the words, worries they may dissolve on his tongue with that stern, steely stare that’s shackled him all his life.

“Not yet,” Billy decides at least.

“You look weird,” Max bluntly blurts, scrunching her nose.

“That’s not nice,” Susan protests in mild reproach.

“It’s not mean,” Max counters, shrugs a shoulder as she looks back to Billy. “You okay? Is it hard being in a hospital again?”

Susan too raises a brow.

Billy reflexively lifts a hand to his chest, curls his jacket in his fist until the button presses uncomfortably into his palm. Few things in his life had been more challenging than his hospital stay and it wasn’t even being in pain or sick or weak, then weaker, then stronger and still in pain— it was sterility. It was being cooped up. It was no privacy whatsoever and never the right noises. It was everything being terrible except Max and Susan even if Max and Susan being around constantly was sometimes terrible but never, ever because they were terrible because they genuinely weren’t and— and now they’re all here again with some of the details rearranged.

Billy realizes that’s the hardest part, maybe, that the details are rearranged. Discovers that maybe it is worse to see someone you care about hurt than hurt yourself. He cannot speak but maybe they know, maybe they can read it in his face because then Susan’s reaching up again, brushing gentle fingertips over his scabbed up knuckles until he relaxes the death grip on the jacket balled into his fist.

“If you decide you want to see Neil, I’ll walk you to the door,” Max offers.

“Thanks,” he manages, terse but sincere.

“And if you want to see him, Mom, I’ll—“

“I don’t,” Susan breaks in, vehement and almost nervous, hand retracting from Billy’s and clasping fast to the opposite above her chest, IV tube swinging again. “I don’t, Max, I really, really don’t.”

“Okay,” Max promises her immediately, gingerly draping an arm around her in a reassuring embrace. The closest to a hug she can manage. “You don’t have to. You never, ever have to see him again, Mom. If you don't want to, you don't have to and that's that. I won't let anyone make you.”

Susan’s eyes dart back and forth as she leans into Max as much as she can, releasing a shaky exhale. Billy’s taken his breaks. They finally got Max to take her break. He thinks maybe Susan needs a break too.

“You wanna see what’s on tv, Sue?” he suggests.

‘No news,’ Max mouths at him above her head. Billy blinks knowingly.

“Sure,” Susan agrees, relaxing and shifting a bit as Max lowers her arm. “Um...maybe the animal channel?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s see what nature is up to.”

[bnha-dumpster]

Shattering: Chapter 5

FIRST | PREVIOUS | Chapter 5 | NEXT

Shattering: A TodoBakuDeku x Reader fic (more TodoBaku with hints of Deku) Plot: After losing Deku and your two best friends, you didn’t think much more could be taken away from you. You’ve never been more wrong. Words: 1.5k

a/n: this is a lil shorter compared to the other chapters but that’s bc chapter six is gonna be really long

“Y/N was so cute!” There’s a grin on Midoriya’s face. He’s standing in the middle of the room, looking back and forth between Bakugou and Todoroki. He’s boasting about his encounter with you, everything about it. “He didn’t even fight back when I grabbed him, he didn’t think of using his Quirk or anything! He just stood there and pathetically let me hurt him. Y/N’s really become something sad, something weak. He’s helpless now. To think that we did that to him!”

“You did it to him, not us.” Todoroki glares at him.

“But you did! You left him all alone to grieve and mourn for me. Do you really think that didn’t do anything to him?”

“Even if we did, it’s nothing compared to the damage you did, Deku!” From his position on the wall, Bakugou is only able to lurch forwards so much. He barely misses the villain. “And if you hurt Y/N again, I swear I’ll-”

Midoriya kicks him in the stomach and Bakugou hits the wall. 

“You’ll what, Kaachan? You can’t do anything! You’re stuck here! But I can go and see him again. If you don’t behave, I’ll go visit Y/N and punish him for your bad behavior. If you behave, Y/N won't get hurt!”

“You piece of shit, Deku!” 

The villain only laughs and leaves the room. Todoroki and Bakugou are forced to watch the door close and hear the lock click. On the other side of the door, Midoriya is laughing to himself. Compared to you, they have so much energy and rage. They’re ready to jump and kill him. You though, are nothing more than a depressed and helpless citizen. He can really do anything he wants to you, can’t he? If he really wanted to, he could do all the things he wanted to do to you when you were at UA. He won’t, though. He’ll be patient and wait until he has to see you again.

And you, exhausted, buy a turtleneck and a large scarf. You’re lucky it’s winter. The turtleneck and scarf hide the deep purple bruise Midoriya gave you. It’s in the shape of his hand. You can’t write that off as anything, though you wouldn’t be able to pass off any sort of neck bruise of this size. 

The threats he made are still clear in your mind. There’s no way you’re going to risk anything on the chance that he’ll do it. He almost certainly will. 

You stumble into the Bakugou household. The sight of Aizawa, Endeavor, Hawks and a few of your friends in the living room catches you off guard. You’re quick to smile and wave. They don’t. Aizawa comes to rest his hand on your shoulder, giving you a concerned look. 

“Staff at UA said they saw you being attacked by Midoriya. Is this true?”

You force a smile and laugh, “Of course not. You know I’d fight back, guys.”

Despite your smile, you’re not convincing at all. They can all see right through you, but they don’t push. At least, until they notice the scarf you definitely didn’t have before. Before pulling away, Aizawa unravels the scarf from your neck gently. Eyes widen when you don’t fight back. No, you begin to tremble when his hand comes close to the skin of your neck. With the scarf unravelled in Aizawa’s hand, your hand shaped bruise is on full display.

The person that steps forward to take a look is Endeavor, which surprises everyone. His hold is oddly gentle as he lifts your chin up to inspect the bruise.

“Trying to hide something like this is useless.” The hero scolds you, letting go of your chin and stepping back.

“He said that if I told you, something bad would happen. Please pretend you don’t know about it. Please, everyone.” Your voice cracks slightly at the end. They share looks before nodding as much as they don’t want to. With the way you’re acting, it’s obvious how vulnerable and helpless you’ve become over the years. Your friends want to protect you. Yet, as they stare at you and the large bruise around your neck, they know they can’t.

“You should go home, Y/N.” 

“Yeah, I should.” You ghost your fingers over the bruise. “... Can someone at least show me how to wrap this up in bandages?”

The store is quiet like always around noon. You can’t say that this is the best place to get lunch, but some people do. It’s a nice break from the bustle of the morning. Your father is taking inventory in the back and your mother is home, she’s sick. Besides the few customers that trickle in every now and then, you’re alone in the front of the store.

You stop yourself from running your hands along your bandages. Clean, well applied bandages are wrapped around your neck, hiding the bruise quite well. The edges stick out, but you can hide them with your clothes. No one says anything. They all mind their own business despite the odd stares and concerned looks the older people give you. At one point, an elderly woman reached across the counter to hold your hand and told you, “Don’t be afraid to reach out for help,” in such a soft voice you almost cried. If only you could.

Behind you, a small radio plays. It’s always tuned to Present Mic’s station. You find comfort in hearing his voice when he pops in. He has a contagious positivity that affects you even through the radio. His choice of music also happens to be good. You lean on the counter and listen to the American pop song he chose to play. Even if you don’t understand the words, you find it fun to listen to. The rhythm is easy going and distracts you from everything.

“You always look so happy when you listen to Present Mic’s radio station.” Your father walks out of the back room with a box of soda. He lets you look inside of it, only to sigh when you reach and grab one out of it. It’s to be expected. The limited peach flavored coke is your favorite.

“You better pay for that.” 

“Take it out of my paycheck, Dad.” You give him a grin and uncap it, taking a sip. “Nothing’s going to stop me from drinking at least a few of these. Not even you, Dad.”

He scoffs at you and ruffles your hair. Glancing at your bandages for a moment, he sighs, “It’s still not healing?” 

“It’s only been a few days. I’m sure it’ll heal and I’ll be able to take this off. Let’s be patient.” As much as you try to reassure your Dad, you know you can’t. When you came back and you told your parents what happened, they were immediately concerned. They’ve been watching you ever since despite you saying that if Midoriya shows up, they might get hurt. A parent’s need to protect their child is strong. At least with your parents.

Thankfully, settling back into Akita City has been smooth. You’re staying in contact with Aizawa, Mic and Iida for now. Honestly, you’re not sure how much more you can handle. When you close your eyes, you keep thinking back to how right Midoriya was. Leaving UA and everyone behind has only made you weaker. You haven’t used your Quirk in years and you freeze up whenever you get scared. That’s not something a hero does. 

You let your mind wander while the store stays empty. How are Bakugou and Todoroki right now? You hope that they’re okay.

They’re not.

Currently, blood is dripping from Todoroki’s busted lip. He’s not sure why he’s the one being beaten when Bakugou is the one who always yells. The blond is watching from the other side of the room, glaring at Midoriya. It’s a tense situation and yet, Midoriya is smiling.

“I’m kind of curious. You’re both so protective of Y/N. After pushing him away and making him so weak, you act like you should be the one taking care of him. Why’s that?” He pauses and when Todoroki doesn’t answer, he kicks the hero in the chest. Todoroki coughs and curls in on himself for a moment. When he manages to lift his head up, he lets out a growl that not even Bakugou has heard before. 

“Why are you so fascinated by Y/N?” 

“You need to answer my question first, Shouto!” 

“He’s not going to answer your question, Deku. Answer his first.” A harsh kick is sent straight to Bakugou’s face. His nose breaks and he sputters over and over until he feels like he can breathe again. Despite his circumstances, the blond sneers and spits, “You’ll have to do better than that, nerd.” 

He expects another kick to the face, only for Midoriya to spin around and cackle at his statement. There’s a look of glee, absolute amazement on his face. 

“Well, now I’ll have to do better Kaachan! At least I get to go visit Y/N again.” Midoriya shrugs and sighs, almost as if he’s frustrated. “But I’ll tell you. I find Y/N really cute and fun to watch. He was always so wary around me but me leaving affected him so much. Isn’t that funny?”

Both heroes tense and look at each other. It only takes a few seconds for Midoriya to figure out why, especially knowing how protective they are of you. 

“You both like him! Maybe I’ll tell him when I see him next.”

[yyxgin]

no bar!! never fret about replying late. i know what it’s like to not want to talk to anyone. honestly. i won’t call it (my experience) a depressive episode bc one of my friends used to brush off me when i was saying things like i’m depressed and say ‘sad’ instead. like if i were to say ‘that made me/i am depressed’ she’d say something like ‘oh god same! like if it’s making you sad,, don’t do it.’ which is a v poor example of what she did but i never called it depressed after that bc she pissed me off n was disregarding of my feelings (even though she’s incredibly anxious herself) bc i didn’t get it officially diagnosed. idk if you’ve ever read about birth control pills but i always read on tumblr people calling them literal depression pills and i ignored it, thinking either 1) people were being dramatic / were over-dramatising it or 2) it wouldn’t happen to me anyway. it fucking happened and they were not being dramatic. i was never happy n always working on minimal sleep n making self depreciating jokes all the time bc it was the only way i could cope with my thoughts n constant mood swings. so what i’m trying to say is,, i know how it feels. if that’s any consolation. it’s not me trying to be ‘oh me too!’ or ‘mine was worse than you’ it’s just me being understanding n telling you it’s okay. also lemme at your friends!! i’ll stomp them out n get the barman to run them over for you!! they’re so mean to forget you!! i find that deciding i want to do something specific n then asking the appropriate people if they want to do saïd thing/place works for me. it can be a simple ‘we should do this, when are you free?’ helps. making it known that you want to do things helps. or aggressively remind them that it’s nice to be asked bc it means they thought of you even if you couldn’t go n tried to include you. or we can revisit me stomping them out w my beloved barman,,, whatever works best for you my dear <3

admittedly me and one of the girls were discussing that we are going to miss our manager. even though literally everyone moaned about her (i feel like it’s impossible to avoid in literally any job/situation) she did have her moments and she did a lot for the staff like after work-drinks, asking the chefs if we could order off of the customer menu instead of the staff menu or whatever they cook in bulk for everyone to take home in the evening. apparently she did this a lot more than the previous manager. she has a good heart but sometimes she ignored some of the girls when we ask for days off or our availability for the week which was very annoying of her. it could’ve been a lot worse, i suppose, but overall she wasn’t terrible.

thé lady who lives in my town and drops me given the chance, told me the other night that she used to be the duty manager. i asked her why she stopped and she explained that when they furloughed everyone they asked her to come back on like half pay or something? idk i just remember it being explained as they wanted her to come back sooner and take away her furlough so she said no and got demoted. but somehow she still gets some of the furlough? idk i have been taught that asking how much or discussing specifics of paychecks kind of thing is rude, growing up. she has been telling me they keep asking her to come back (now they’re asking her to be a supervisor since she declined the manager role) and she keeps saying no. i love her and want the best for her so i won’t say anything to anyone about the conversations me and her have had (i mean, apart from maybe my mum if i can remember, and you bc, let’s be real, you don’t know me and idk you) and she says they’re just difficult to work with as a management team. she even said our area manager isn’t impressed with our current assistant manager (who is currently the only person on an houred contract since our manager left) which shocked me since i personally think he is quite good considering he has a good relationship with the staff and kitchen (he’s thai so he can communicate with the kitchen better than most of the wait staff (some wait staff are thai but mostly not)) i think she doesn’t want to be the eldest person in management or she doesn’t want the age gap to be so big since she has a kid she can lecture at home, she doesn’t need to be looking after people at work, y’know?

also today, me and one of the girls were upstairs (two floors of the restaurant!) and it’s nearing 11pm and her brother (who also works there) comes up and asks us when we’re finishing (mostly her lol) but we had two tables just sitting talking amongst themselves so she just said idk. he was saying he wanted to go bc he’s tired etc n he’s driving n she was like it’s fine go home i’ll call an uber or something n he was refusing to leave her behind. (i feel like i brushed over the two tables sitting there but it must be noted they’re the only tables left in the entire restaurant and we were the only two wait staff still there, apart from her brother but he changed and was waiting downstairs). anyway, she was sweeping (i was cleaning the booth/sofa thingy chairs as it was a mundane task we could do to pass time and while she was sweeping by one of the tables thé boyfriend was whispering to his girlfriend saying ‘should we go?’ and the girlfriend said ‘why should i care?’ and the girl came over to tell me v quietly and i got so upset for her. bc she is literally the sweetest person on the earth and the only reason i didn’t go to ask the manager to see if i could go home with the lady who offers to take me (ex-duty manager lady!) was so she wasn’t alone up there. if i had been the one sweeping near that table i would’ve snapped so fucking hard at them. i mean, we’re 18 and have lives and sleep schedules, and we’re working until 11pm on a thursday before we even get home?? like i wouldn’t have minded staying if they were reasonable tables but after the gf said that i was like ‘shall i go get our stuff from the staff room?’ so i could split as fast as possible. in the end the temporary acting manager came up and told us we could finish and she kicked the tables out ten minutes later. i told her what the table saïd and she thought that was mean and unnecessary too. i was also worried about my sleep tonight since i have my first vaccine tomorrow morning. that’s why i was more pressed about what time i left work today. oh well.

im sorry for talking so much about work! sometimes i don’t have someone to talk to about it (at home) bc of my weird hours and sometimes i don’t like re-explaining things to my mum if she doesn’t get it the first seven times. sometimes it’s just a little too draining as she doesn’t understand since she’s a lifer at her job. it’s easier to explain to my dad but then i get a whole lecture on something that i ultimately have no control over n id rather just bitch w the girls at work but the problem is WE’RE AT WORK!!!

also i booked for my first tattoo!! i’m excited. it’s for next week,, which was super quick considering i was expecting to have to wait soooo much longer. i’ve been telling people about it and that it’s happening but i haven’t had the pleasure of telling people exactly where i got the idea from. bar, my dear, you know wheein’s new album, redd? well, it comes with loads of things, including these stickers (one for each song) and the one from springtime was just so perfect and when i saw it my first thought was, this would be a perfect tattoo. and so i am having it tattooed on my body. a subtle nod to kpop whilst also having something meaningful on my body. i also have just decided i want a small, minimalistic (or one-line art) rose on my sternum, kind of in the valley of my breasts, bc my nan was a rose. i like having her close to me. i recently got her necklace fixed which has left me feeling so incomplete after it broke in august last year. it’s been almost ten years and i think i’m long overdue something to remind me of her. i fiddle with my necklace when i’m nervous which is why i love it so much but incase it breaks again (i pray it doesn’t but i have a long life ahead of me) i would like her close still.

gosh there’s never enough space in my head to remember what i want to tell you so i’ll stop here for now since i should sleep to be able to wake up in time for my first jab. i’m scared but it’s whatever i’ll do it i suppose,, eeek 😨

ilyl ~ 🌻

thank you so much for opening up to me about this, it means a lot to me :( i am so sorry you had to go through this and honestly,, i really resonate with you. i feel like when i talk about my emotions and my sadness (dont know if its okay to call it depression either but yea), my friend either always either makes me feel like my emotions arent valid or she tells me she doesnt know how to help, which is frankly, why i dont talk about my emotions to people irl anymore. i dont open up and it takes me a long long time to do so if i ever do, because i tend to feel insecure/not safe :D so really, thank you for telling me and i hope you are doing better. your emotions are valid and i am always here for you 

HAHAHA i mean i dont have many friends so theres not many to stomp on:( but i mean,, i get passive aggressive when i feel forgotten/left out so you best believe i told my friend how im feeling, but like uhhh it didnt do much. i spent the whole weekend at work and i was free on friday but my friend decided to ditch me and yeah. i havent been out in like two weeks now and i mean i am an introvert so i dont mind that much but even i want to socialise sometimes

aah i mean every manager has their flaws, no one’s perfect. my manager keeps calling me to go to work even though i was literally there for 11 hours on saturday AND sunday which means i worked for 20 hours in two days. and i work 20 hours a week at max. and i already worked some hours before the weekend so i think i have like 30 hours now and she keeps calling??? dude i need a break too,,i am so exhausted and tired of this shit :dd

oh i totally get what the lady that drops you off sometimes told you. i would feel a little iffy if i heard it too, but like,,,judge by your own experiences!! if you feel like something is off, you can always leave,, so i wouldn’t be so stressed about it.

why are people so rude ??? dude,,you should care, because we are all human. everyone has their needs and their lives and i bet he wouldnt like it if he was the one in your place. why should you stay there longer just because he didnt want to leave?? that was so unnecessary. people are weird beings and i learnt that after working with them this weekend,,,like i litereally got screamed at because i couldnt accept cash in different currency. like,,what tf do you want me to do?? i dont have every single currency with me so i could give u the change ?? tf ??

ALSO ITS OKAY TALK ABOUT YOUR WORK HOWEVER MUCH YOU WANT !!!! i also feel like i dont have anyone to talk to about work bc my parents dont listen to me as much as they used to these days and my friend unsurprisingly just doesnt care bc she doesnt work,, and i dont wanna talk to my internet friends abt it as much bc i feel annoying so i am glad us two can talk about these things together !!!! 

YOUR FIRST TATTOOOO WHOAAAH thats so cool. i love tattoos hihi dfkja idk if u already had the appointment but tell me how it went after !! i wasnt able to find the sticker on the internet but im sure it looks hella pretty. also i love how it reminds you both of kpop and your grandma, its wonderful <3 i really want to get a tattoo one day,, and i also want something meaningful (not that i am hating on people that tattoo themselves just for fun and have no meaning behind their tattoos i just have commitment issues so i want something long lasting). alSO my crush (yes i have a crush now ew) has a tattoo and it looks like satan lowkey,,but apparently its a japanese something (i forgot the word oopsies) and it means jealousy, bad past and wisdom ?? i was like BOY IF U DONT??? fjdkla he has blue hair btw i am very much whipped but he also doesnt know me and i am older than him so this is embarrassing

ALSO I HOPE YOURE FEELING WELL AFTER GETTING THE VACCINE !!! 

ily <333

[kwrittink]

Wrong - ABISM

Pairing: F!Reader x AdoptedBrother!Jungkook

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warnings: language, a tiny bit of belittling

<FISSURE                                                             EARTHQUAKE>

It had been two- no, three - years since you last saw him. Your brother... If you could even call him that. No visits, no calls, not even a letter. He'd be completely out of your life, wasn't for his inevitable successful life, which caused people to talk about him once in a while, not aware of your past. Why would you even tell people you once were Jeon - after he took back his real name and career as the famous missing heir of the family's huge company - JungKook's relative when by that point you were nothing more than a complete stranger?

"Y/N, is the sketch finished already? Boss Min has been waiting for it since you arrived," Mou, secretary of said boss - your boss, precisely - asked, walking up to you and snatching your attention back to reality, the screen of the tablet showcasing an ad of some beauty product under Jeon's name. That's why your mind was wandering off. 

"I have the final version already, I'm just waiting for TaeH-"

"I'm here, I'm here!" Kim TaeHyung, TI trainee and probably the best boy you've ever met in your entire life came rushing in, almost knocking stressed Mou out of his way, the art printed into a small poster. "Our printers were all malfunctioning, so I had to go to the copy place- Hope I'm not too late," he breathed out finally, strands of hair glued to his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. You chuckled at him, grabbing the page with one hand and patting the top of his slightly bowed head as you stood up. 

"Don't worry, you were just doing me a favor, Tae. I'll pay you a coffee later, 'kay?" You reassured the newbie, then made your way towards your boss' office, happy that the whole printout was exactly the way you imagined it would be. Those sleepless nights wouldn't be wasted, it seemed. 

"You know, sometimes it's a little painful to watch him," Mou started, by your side. You had barely noticed she was walking with you and snapped your head towards her startled, what she might have read as a confused look. "The new intern. TaeHyung, I mean." 

"What about him?" You asked, now truthfully confused. Mou scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

"I'm sure you're not that blind, Y/N... The boy obviously has a crush on you." She whispered, giggling as your eyes widened in surprise. 

"Wait TaeHyung? No, he's just really nice. And I'm his mentor, he just wants to please." You waved it off, shaking your head in dismissal. There was no way that a guy like Kim TaeHyung was interested in you. He was really nice to you, but obviously, he was still a youngster, if the gossip was any indication. 

Mou snickered, pushing the black glass door that separated the firm's director Min YoonGi from the rest of the world. "Whatever you say then. But keep that in mind when you have your coffee with him today." She advised, and it was your turn to roll your eyes at her before she announced your arrival. 

Min YoonGi was someone really easy to deal with, once you did your job. The meeting was short, he had really liked your work and even had asked you to help in the presentation the company would have to the hirer - which meant he wanted you to talk about it. It was good to know your job was recognized, but you've been working hard for a while and was about to ask for a break before you collapsed. Sigh. Maybe after the deal was made. 

"Hey, you don't seem so well," a voice came from your right, a small box of doughnut holes from that famous bakery on the building's street appearing into your sight. A smile was immediately plastered on your lips when you turned your face and met the dimpled cheeks of Kim NamJoon - not blood related to earlier mentioned Kim Taehyung -, thick glasses hiding his eye smile. 

"You're water for the thirsty men sir," you sighed, picking one treat from the box and practically moaning at the simple yet tasteful ball of happiness. "Also, I can't believe you went to Jin's without me!"

"If you had answered my texts you'd know I was going," he quipped back, shrugging teasingly. You squinted at him, grabbing your phone and seeing that, for it was on silent the whole weekend you had let slip NamJoon's invite for this morning. Tsking, you put it away, snatching the box from his hands.

"Not an excuse mister, you have full access to my house," you countered, and he had the nerve to look coy, looking away in defeat. But in that motion you were able to see the badly hidden hickey painted on the side of his neck, giving you an idea why he didn't invade your apartment that morning. You'd tease him for that later, after figuring out who he had a date with.

"Anyway, be glad there's still some left, I ate most of it on my way here, I was starving,"

"I know you since we were children, you owe me this." Yes. Kim NamJoon, head of TI and the clumsiest guy to walk on earth was your childhood best friend and the only one in your current circle that knew about your past. Even more, JungKook used to admire NamJoon from a young age, and though you two were glued at the hip since even before your brother joined the family, JungKook warmed up pretty well to him. But when JungKook left, he had cut all ties with everyone from his past, embracing the new life presented to him, and leaving an equally devastated NamJoon missing a younger brother. That you couldn't forgive him for. 

You got back to your desk, followed by NamJoon that was still after the doughnut holes even after having half a portion. He was stressed with the end of the month, where deadlines piled up and everyone was at each other's throats to get stuff done. You couldn't do much to ease his burden, too piled with your own work to try and help him with his. Besides, you were shit at programming. 

"Oh I knew I smelled something familiar- Wait, you went to that patisserie down the street?" A cheerful face peeked from the other cubicle and revealed a handsome man eyeing your food. You quirked an eyebrow at Jung Hoseok, one of your other co-workers and part of said circle of friends. Not that you had that many people you truly enjoy talking to but you liked to live by the company's motto: quality is better than quantity. And that was also why the number of employees was so much less than others in the same area because Min YoonGi liked to hire only the best ones - and because he didn't want to waste time firing people later, you were aware. 

For example, Jung Hoseok was an amazing designer, perfectionist and hard-working, even if he looked aloof and happy-go-lucky most of the time. But there was a reason for that, and because he expected from himself only the best, Hoseok - or Hobi, how he was called endearingly - also expected near perfection from his colleagues. 

Unconsciously he had put himself in charge of keeping everyone in the line. And if anyone thought he wouldn't impose respect with his light demeanor, better change their mind quickly. The man was sharp and ruthless when disappointed, flipping his entire mood in a matter of seconds. It wasn't a point of him being bipolar or anything, he was just the type of parental figure that you wanted to only be on his good side. 

"Not me, NamJoon fetched those before arriving at work. Want one?" Extending the bag at him, you saw how Hobi's eyes twinkled as he fetched a couple of sweets from the bag and chuckled to yourself, thinking he was cute, even if a couple of years older than you. 

"Thanks, man I really needed this- Wow that's a hickey, if I've ever seen one," Hoseok was quick to notice as he turned to NamJoon, voice getting louder as he couldn't get a hold of his surprise. Your best friend's eyes widened greatly, apparently not aware that either the bruise was showing or that it was there at all while pulling his collar up. "Sorry dude, I couldn't help it, just... Sorry." Hoseok winced again, retreating to his desk while NamJoon glanced around in a panic to access who had heard the announcement. Apparently no one, but the crew had a sharp ear, you were aware. You just hoped Mou - who had a massive crush on him since he joined but never had the courage to tell him - hadn't heard it too.

Sighing, you got up your chair, grabbing NamJoon's hand and your purse in the other, meeting his lost puppy eyes. "C'mon, I'll fix this up. But you owe me an explanation, mister." You demanded while dragging him to the unisex room. 

Your only regret was leaving the doughnut holes on top of your table, easy prey for all the wolves in the section. 

The meeting was first thing in the morning, so you arrived an hour earlier to avoid any accidents and had a spare outfit in your bag if anything - NamJoon and his clumsy ass - were to happened to the cute but professional outdo you had put together so carefully. Mou was the first to greet you in the morning, her smile not quite reaching her eyes - maybe she had heard Hoseok's outburst the day before after all - as she handed you a cup with coffee and the keys to the meeting room.  

You sighed. It was a tiring job the one you had, but it was at the same time fulfilling and well-paid. Min Yoongi was strict as he did expect everyone to work hard, but he was extremely fair when it came to paychecks. Every single extra thing the employees did was taken into account and correctly inserted into your account - including that one presentation you were to do for him. 

"You're early today huh?" As if by summoning, a sleepy toned voice echoed through the room while you arranged your things - jolt of surprise barely concealed, and you could hear his quiet snicker when he noticed - and Min YoonGi entered the room. "Wouldn't expect any less of you." 

You turned to him with a small smile, acknowledging his compliment, and waiting for what he had to say. YoonGi wouldn't show up before the meeting for no reason at all, you were aware. "So, I'm sure you read about our employers and are well-prepared for this but," He started, and suddenly your blood started to run cold. But? That's never good. He's going to make my life difficult, I feel it! 

"The thing is, that company was recently bought by another one - don't look so scared, nothing has changed technically - and now you're going to be meeting the new owners, so just wanted to give you a heads up." The way he spoke was clearly as if he was casually mentioning that he had coffee in the morning and had an easy trip to the job today, but his words still couldn't avoid your internal panicking. Still, you nodded, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat, because you were a good designer, but could handle so much pressure. At least the whole ordeal wouldn't be changed. You breathed out. 

"Okay boss, I'll handle this to the best of my abilities," you assured him, trying to put a brave face to the man that had hired you but was usually treating you like a sister/daughter he kept at arm's length. Even the satisfying glint of his eyes wasn't unnoticed by you, a sign of trust in your words. 

"Good. Now, they have arrived earlier than expected, you think we can start or should make them stick to the schedule?" At that point Min YoonGi was definitely taunting you, corner of his mouth twitching slightly with undisclosed humor. You rolled your eyes. 

"Send them in, I'm ready." Was what you answered, but minutes later you would regret that sentence immensely. Maybe you should have trusted your gut for once, as it told you that something was not right the moment your boss stepped outside the meeting room to get the new employers. 

Because your smile faltered upon seeing that the man following your boss back inside was no less than - and that for some reason wasn't unexpected - Jeon JungKook.

--

So this is the layout we had and the whole process our team worked on with the previous employer - Mr. Park right here can confirm," you smiled warmly at the man who was accompanying the new owner for the meeting, glad of his reassuring and soothing presence. "But we are completely open to discussion and suggestions if the idea isn't to Mr. Jeon's interest." You tried to keep smiling as you glanced at the man who once had been part of your family now standing at the other side of the table with a completely unreadable expression while glaring at you. 

"Well, I think we don't think that much different right?" Park Jimin, later owner - now co-owner of the 'ARMY' clothing line - nudged JungKook's arm to snap him back from staring at you so blatantly. YoonGi cleared his throat softly by the end of the table. 

"Yes, we'll discuss some more of this project in the future, but for now it's fine," he said, and you had to restrain from quirking at eyebrow at him, though you could feel droplets of sweat trickling down your neck. Fine? "Next time though, I'd like to hold a meeting on my grounds, if that's okay with you?" And then he fucking turned to your boss, as if you weren't the one busting your ass in the last half hour explaining a project almost set to happen all over again. 

"I think you should ask Miss Y/L/N, she's the one responsible for this," JiMin piped up again, and you were so glad he did, but not as how that forced the arrogant face of that other man to look back at you as if he was too tired to repeat his question.

"Won't be a problem, sir. We'll-"

"We? Weren't you the head of this project alone?" A frown creased deep between JungKook's eyebrows, as he looked down to his phone - probably checking his schedule -, already up and ready to leave. JiMin got up as well, seems to be confused by his partner's behavior, and you bit the side of your cheek in anger. 

"Of course Miss Y/L/N is the prime creator of this whole entrepreneur," this time it was Min YoonGi's time to sprout into the conversation, and you were thankful he did before you said something insolent. "But to avoid being persuaded for any side whatsoever, she will be taking one from the team with her to the meeting - having in mind that Mr. JiMin will also be attending to keep it balanced." 

For some reason, it looked like Jeon was taken by surprise, for his eyes widened for a moment before glancing at your boss. He wouldn't think we'd meet completely alone now, would he? 

"Right, exactly. Mr. Park and I will be the only ones present, so it's only fair. I shall then talk to your secretary? I have a few days available." 

"N-no JungKook, I think this you'll have to discuss with Miss Y/N, she's the one that's going to meet us there..." And just like that JungKook seemed to have lost his pose of nonchalant, seeming exasperated to leave the room but needing to face you one more time before doing so. 

"Next Tuesday at 8 am at the north building?" What was he trying to do, set a romantic date or a professional one? Because either the case, he was failing miserably. You grabbed your mobile from the table, expression still stern and serene. 

"I'll put it on the schedule. It's okay with you if I take Kim TaeHyung with me, boss?" You slightly turned to the man that looked as amused as someone would be while watching a drama unfold. He was only missing a snack. 

"Sure, though he's a trainee..." The little squint your boss gave you was enough to tell you he was onto something about this whole thing - and if you could bet, you'd say he was thinking of something along the lines of ex-lovers or some other cheesy crap he secretly loved so much. 

Thought it was much, much more complicated than that.

"It's good for him to learn on the job, plus his skills will help me, I'm sure." You explained, receiving a shrug in response from your boss. That was that then. 

"We're all set then, I'm glad!" Park JiMin chirped, extending his hand at you. "It was really nice seeing you again Miss. Y/N, keep a great job!" He complimented after you shook his hand back with a small bow and a smile. Jeon's hand also appeared in front of you, for grasping. 

"Till we meet again, Miss. Y/L/N." He said as you did the same to him, after a beat of hesitancy. It was somehow hurtful the way he said your family name in such an easy, detached way. As if he never was under it in the past, for so many years. 

And it was in that way you realized the abysm between the two of you, the gap that separated your worlds definitely and clearly. He was no one to you, and you were no one to him. 

________________________ masterlist

[boku-no-loveletters]

(1/3?)Hi! Idk if you're still doing match ups but I was wondering if i could get a prohero match up pls! If not, please feel free to ignore my ask, I completely understand and hope you're resting 💕 if soooo-I’m a straight cis Hispanic female that’s 5ft tall, I have wide hips, big butt/thighs, my top half ain’t special tho and I have black hair/bangs and dark brown eyes+glasses! I’m a cancer with an INFP personality, I’m shy and closed off at first but as I get used to you I open up.

Also, my favorite season is fall, I have been told that I have a motherly, clownery, therapist type of vibe. I’m stubborn, not big on commitment (when I commit tho, I COMMIT) My ideal date is napping, eating our junk foods and watching anime and movies! I’m a cancer sun, Leo moon and Libra rising. I’m an introvert and Hufflepuff.

I’m shy and closed off at first but as I get used to you, I open up. I like sleep, anime and boys (But I like anime bois more than real ones :( )…I also have daddy issues…the following info has nsfw/sfw, if it makes you feel uncomfortable, feel free to ignore it! My hobbies include dancing and singing! My turn on: Love and understanding (Nfsw-degradation and praise/daddy kink)-(I base my love life off of Disney movies and Wattpad)

LAST ONE! Turn offs: not willing to understand that I need space to cope with my moodiness. (NFSW-someone that doesn’t care about my consent!) I’m the type of person that tends to want to listen more than I want to talk. I’m always on TikTok cuz crackheads things. My names Larissa, but my friends prefer “Dummy”, “idiot, ”, or clown cus even though I may be book smart, I am very stupid. THANK YOU IN ADVANCE IF YOU DO CHOOSE TO DO THIS, MAKE SURE YOU DRINK WATER, REST AND PLS EAT!

Heyo, I did your match-up!

-I had a lot of fun with this one! I enjoyed reading your description and being really specific helped me determine which Hero was better for you. At first, I was torn between All might and Hawks since they both seemed to be really laid back in certain activities they do, but hawks and you seemed to have similar interests and similar attitudes.

-I felt that Hawks would like someone with an attitude like his, laid back and idealistic, yet healing and therapeutic. Hawks needs someone that he can confide in since he goes through a ton of pressure daily despite not looking like it. Having someone that is gentle to a level where he can let his guard down is important, trust is important for him. Plus, what kind of relationship is it if you don’t trust your partner?

-I think he would absolutely adore planning out little dates that specifically involved only you and him since he just wants some time with his girl alone, but if you asked him that you wanted to go out he wouldn’t mind at all. I think that he’d like Movie marathons with take out KFC more since that just kinda sounds like his thing. I think there’s also a really high probability that he’d like anime too, but I think he’d be a fan of sports animes like Haikyuu!

-Hawks is a thinker and I think he’d be more than happy to give you your space since he understands how much some people, like him, need their alone time or a break depending on your mood.

-If you dance and you sing, then you already have your number one supporter on your hands. This man will cheer you on and/or secretly videotape you doing one of your most beloved activities without you noticing and when you’re done, he will come to you and show you how beautiful you look or sound and compare it with the other videos he took of you.

-He has a hard time deciding which one is going to be his new ringtone, he thinks it’s nice waking up and hearing you singing before he gets ready for the day.

-Daddy issues? No worries! The number 3 pro hero, to the rescue! He will try as many humorous antics as he can to get your mind off of family problems, sometimes he'll go in for a scare to completely snap you out of the subject if it takes your attention away from more important things.

I think that the way you guys meet would be by pure coincidence, You are another citizen of the city while he was the number three hero, it ‘s bound to happen by some point unless of course, you both were known to come to a common place that you loved.

Ah, yes. Today was a Friday, AKA the perfect today to start on another one of your most favored series along with various amounts of snacks that you are sure will mess up your stomach afterward. But hey, who cares about that? It’s the weekend! That means no work, no worries, and certainly no more bothersome people!

You took in a deep breath and smiled happily, content that your day of work was already over which left you the remaining of the last day of your workweek and the rest of Saturday and Sunday! Your right hand gently steering the wheel of your vehicle while your left hand held the small wad of cash for the food that you were using for something special.

You pulled up to the parking lot of the convenience store, picking up your purse and stepping out of the car with your money already in your hand. The door opened ahead of you with a small ding, revealing the rows of food and the clerks' desk upfront.

You scanned over the store’s range and noticed how weirdly empty it was, not a lot of customers were present at the moment though the woman already at the front desk looked oddly excited. Maybe it was someone important? Well, it was probably none of your business anyways, you’re just a customer after all so you just paid attention to what you came here for.

Fried chicken. Hell yeah.

Fried chicken along with potato chips and drinks was the main ingredient for a great marathon to where you could binge-watch all the episodes you wanted. ALL the episodes, although your parents would probably scold you for your unhealthy habits, as you said before, you could care less.

So you began walking down the aisles, dragging your finger over the tags to look for your favorite brand of chips under their company name all the while obliviously ignoring the floating crimson object that drifted across the air.

You then felt a little tickle at your neck at which you swiped to the back of your head and grabbed what appeared to be..a feather? Which was strangely familiar as it was red too.

The only red feather you had ever seen was that of a certain famous hero's wings and it's not like he'd pick such a low profile store to get some food, right? But then you really couldn't think of him any less based on the current decisions you're making right now.

Just as you were about to inspect the small little feather, it zoomed from out of your grasp and flew ahead over the aisles. By then, you had finally paid attention to the conversations that carried over the wave of food and products.

You craned your neck over to look at the superintendent and... a man?

Much to your surprise, it was the number three pro hero, Hawks! His cheerful demeanor was just as laid-back as ever. His blonde hair was slicked back with a few stray locks framing his face while he donned a leather jacket and matching black pants for an outfit.

Your mouth was wide open in surprise, what a coincidence! You were right! So you leaned in quietly and began listening in on their conversations, being sure not to make yourself get exposed and labeled as another one of Hawk's stir crazy fangirls.

Your ears then picked up on Hawk's smooth yet rough voice, the volume of his speech echoing across the store as he asked a certain thing about the manager's day or what he'd thought about doing all the while digging through his pocket, both front and back.

He must've been looking for something...like money.

You clasped a hand over your mouth to silence yourself from laughing before you were caught. The number three pro hero, Hawks, had forgotten money to buy some things at the store...which was fried chicken.

Respectable choice, a faith that you had to save a fellow chicken eater from.

So you quietly walked over to their positions, being mindful not to interrupt their conversation and gently tugged on Hawk's jacket. He gradually turned around and met your gaze directly with just a hint of surprise and turbulence.

"Oh, hey! Another fan? You need me to sign something of yours?" he spoke in a cheerful manner to which you simply shook your head and brought his hand to yours and put in a couple wads of cash before walking out of the store and waving him and the superintendent goodbye.

Perhaps another time would be better, you could always wait for your paycheck and get a much higher paying. 'Yeah, that'd be much better than that shabby amount.' you thought to yourself while bringing your purse closer to your chest in giddiness and opening the door to your automobile.

He was confused for a moment before he brought his attention to his hand and gently opened it. The slips of cash you left in his care were just the amount he had been missing to get himself a quick snack ere going back to his house.

He felt a small blush creep up his neck when the realization hit him, you must've seen his crappy attempt at finding some random change in his pocket when you were just a few aisles behind him in the store.

So, wasting no time to say his thanks, he quickly paid for his food and said his goodbyes before rushing to the front of the store and catching your vehicle leave just at the last moment.

He used his large vermillion wings to wave to you while you left and hazily watched your car leave to the next street on the highway. How oddly nice of a citizen to give him some spare cash, maybe he'd repay you the next time you came around...that is, if he could find you.

-So after that, Hawks did manage to find you the next time around and he did keep his promise of returning your fair share of money. Although the other times you guys did meet up around the store was when you returned to get more snacks and he was simply buying more chicken, claiming that the store had good quality food.

-He tries to make small talk with you either by using the fact that he doesn’t have enough money as an excuse or that he’s just simply another pro hero passing by and checking in on his favorite citizen.

-The time when you guy’s actually agreed to dating was by him confessing and using chicken drumsticks as a gift for your first date. It worked.

-Both You and Hawks have energy that matches each other, you practically fit like puzzle pieces based on how I view it. You both share similar views on how the world could work if it would differ on a creative basis or when you know how to take a break from certain things and just be in each other’s presence.

-He tries to get as many breaks as he can from doing hero work, so if he consults his agencies about how much time he’s missing being away from you, he’ll try and send little trinkets from his workplace to you and let you know he’ll be home sooner or later.

NSFW!

-Now, this guy has the DNA of a hawk, you can definitely expect him to randomly go into phrases involving sexual matters such as mating season and i’d imagined that would happen mostly around the spring with the summer sometimes being an exception.

-Hawks is that one bitch that prays before eating you out, I will not hold a discussion for this. HE IS THAT BITCH and NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE.

-Oh, a daddy kink you say? Hawks is going to enjoy this. No doubt this man here is going to get rough in the bedroom and he will waste absolutely no energy on you. Just one slip up of calling him that name and he will ravage into the bed mattress.

-If you’re really into making him wait a bit before actually getting into bed, this man will praise your body throughout the whole session as if he had never had a drip of pleasure in his life.

Hope you liked your match-up!

@animeboihoe

[orbitcd]

it was break, which meant there was more time to spend with fenrir, especially considering that even the coffee shop would be closed during the winter months and would reopen in early spring. it gave the owners, who were older, some time together and with the family they had during the holidays. of course, the only downside was that fenrir still worked . . . and fenrir was still fenrir, even when he didn’t need to work, he needed to leave occasionally.

doyun was just thankful that today he could get him all to himself. the god was a light sleeper, so it had been hard to sneak around the house without having him notice. doyun had only shooed him into the bathroom and told him to take a shower or a bath, to which he received some sort of disgruntled noise - he was sure it had meant some sort of offense had been taken. he didn’t mean that he’d smelled, but if it meant a few extra minutes in the kitchen, he’d take it. 

shuffling around in his slippers, he had bacon, sausage, and pork belly cooking. he had bread ready to be popped down in the toaster and eggs currently being whipped in his bowl. he figured something more western would be different than the usual he’d make or bring home from his mother. he was sure fenrir was getting tired of the smell of kimchi in their fridge anyways. he was sure the scent of the meats were wafting around the loft now, making its way between the masculine scents of fenrir’s soaps and under the cracks of the bathroom door. doyun had set the bowl of eggs down just to readily flip the pork over before it’d burn. with some sense of pride, he grinned to no one in particular, simply himself and his handiwork. when had been the last time he made breakfast at home? had he ever since he started living here? 

tan lips pursed in thought before he was turning back to his eggs and their designated skillet. he smeared a slab of butter inside, watching it spin and sizzle in the hot pan. using his chopsticks, he poured the golden mixture in, listening to the eggs hiss and pop upon contact. he probably had another five minutes before his mate was coming back out. just enough time to get these eggs cooked, clean dishes, and then the meat would be just as well. a free hand reached over to the toaster and he pressed down on the lever until it clicked. while he resumed his cooking, seasoning and stirring until the eggs were fluffy and together, he had an ear out for the shower. 

like clockwork, he was turning the pan over into a plate as the faucet turned off. he then turned in the direction of the bathroom for a second, waiting, before he resumed to put the skillet in the sink. he was quickly shoving his hands into the gloves, free to turn on the water without hearing fenrir snarl across their home. he made quick work of the dishes, scrubbing out the remains of egg and cups and spoons he’d use for measurement earlier. he heard the bathroom door click open as he’d tapped the water off. peeling off the gloves now, he turned to face fenrir with a small smile. ‘ go get dressed, i made some breakfast. and dry your hair, please? ’ he teased before he was turning back to the food he’d made. 

he was grabbing two rags and the pans that held the meats, drained from any fat and grease before he was approaching their little table. careful to not leave burn marks on the table, he set the cloth down first and then the pans. doyun was quickly shuffling in the kitchen for their plates and utensils to beat his boyfriend to the table. just in time, it seemed, because there was another click of fenrir’s bedroom. he’d just been peering up when his phone had went off in his fenrir’s hoodie. ‘ oh, i forgot !! ’ he exclaimed. he skittered across the floor, quickly hopping up to give his mate a kiss on the cheek. he giggled, ‘ go sit down, i forgot our coffee. ’ he was disappearing behind the wall of the kitchen again before he received some sort of response. 

he was sure the god was receiving some sort of whiplash to doyun’s unusual energetic behavior in the morning. 

with SOME sort of composure, as to not spill his hard work, doyun had walked out with a small tray filled with two mugs, cream and sugar if desired, and a new and polished french press he’d bought with one of his recent paychecks. setting it down between where they both sat, he pressed down on the plunger. he first poured a brew for fenrir and set it in front of the god before he was pressing a warm kiss to his damp hair. ‘ it’s nothing fancy, though i know you don’t care - but i figured it’s something to fill that stomach of yours for a little bit. ’ he mused. 

finally, he sat down as he poured himself a cup and added his cream shortly after. ‘ i want to stay in today, maybe watch some movies, or play some games if you’re feeling up to it. ’ it was his simpler way of keeping fenrir in, and not having him pace around from doing nothing. ‘ i don’t get a lot of time with you between school and the both of us working, ’ he explained gently while he’d reached for fenrir’s hand. his thumb brushed against scarred and rough knuckles and he smiled, ‘ so is a calm day okay with you? ’ 

it wasn’t like doyun could spoil the way fenrir did for him, he knew it wouldn’t be enjoyed - so, he took his bets and did the smallest amount he could to get his point across for a male who’d spent his entire life in hatred and solitude. all he needed was an okay and he’d be happy with the small amount he could do for his lover.

@queensconquest