#she has been doing more custom pieces lately and also more fancy stuff

[atenderofsycamoretrees]

Adeam Spring 2020 Ready-to-Wear

#fashion #adeam #spring 2020 #ready-to-wear #scopophobia / #favorite #she has been doing more custom pieces lately and also more fancy stuff #so she wanted to try and put some evening pieces into her rtw stuff #most of it is still pretty casual though #the aesthetic really works for me tho

[anemo-writes]

hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)

much love,

~ anemo-chan <3

(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)

super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.

Diluc

He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!

Lisa

She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,

Tartaglia

Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.

Zhongli

Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?

surprises you with homemade sweets.

Fischl

Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.

Ganyu

Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.

Keqing

Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.

Mona

Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)

Noelle

One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!

Xiangling

The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?

buys/makes a present for you.

Albedo

Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.

Amber

Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.

Barbara

Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.

Chongyun

He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.

Ningguang

She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)

Razor

He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.

Sucrose

At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)

whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.

Beidou

It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)

Bennett

He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)

Kaeya

He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!

Venti

You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)

Xingqiu

While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—

doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Jean

Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.

Xiao

“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)

#anemo-writes #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #THE WAY THIS IS A DAY LATE #can you tell that i’ve never written for zhongli before :’) #bennett’s is my favorite i almost cried while writing it because it was so wholesome #diluc x reader #Childe x reader #zhongli x reader #chongyun x reader #razor x reader

[heliosthegriffin]

The Burdens of Lordship

Jaune decided he needed to go get out for a night, and by himself.

It had been a long couple of months at Beacon, hard, difficult, and nowhere near-easy for a fake like himself.

But, he had made it so far with Pyrrha and his teams help.

He be dead without them, hells, he’d be dead without Ruby too.

But, with all these new teams coming in today... It felt so damn suffocating, even more than usual. Like they could see through him, see that he didn’t belong here.

So, it brought him here, getting dressed for a knight on the town, heh, he’d made a Yang.

A nice pair of cream slacks, a royal blue dress shirt, a black vest on top of it lined with faux-gold buttons, a pair of nice brown loafers, and fine leather belt to bring the suit together. Contrarily to Yang and Weiss’s opinion, he did know how to dress himself, being raised by his parents plus seven overbearing sisters taught him enough, it’s just, since he came to Beacon he’s actually had the freedom to wear what he wanted.

Tonight though? He want to look better than he felt. So, he brushed his a hair enough to look presentable, and went out into the dorm.

“Well, how did I dooooo-” Jaune didn’t get to finish as Nora barreled pasted into the bathroom, knocking him to the side.

Pyrrha stifled a laugh and Ren gave the barest hint of a apolegtic smile.

Jaune steadied himself, giving a laugh at his own expense. He couldn’t blame Nora for having to go to the bathroom, could he?

“Well, how do I look?” Jaune asked his partner and his friend.

Pyrrha gave him a friendly smile and nodded approvingly. “Quite lovely, Jaune. You look dashing.”

“Ah, thanks Pyr.” Jaune said with a slight blush, it always felt nice to be complimented.

Ren looked on more skeptically, with a hand on his chin. “Turn around.”

Jaune did as asked.

“Ok, do some stretches.”

Jaune complied with his team-mates wishes, surely he would notice if he missed something. 

“Alright, you look passable. Here,” Ren approached Jaune squirted a few drops of cologne, and helped straighten out his outfit. “And now you look, as Pyrrha put it, quite dashing.” Ren said with a light smile.

“Thanks, Ren.” Jaune said another light blush on his cheeks. “Well, I guess I should be going then.”

“Wait,” Ren said putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re forgetting something.” He looked over to Pyrrha and she handed the boys Crocea Mors.

Jaune looked on incredulous. “Why would I need Crocea Mors?”

Ren shook his head. “You’re a huntsman, you must look the part at all times. Plus...”

Jaune frowned, knowing where he was leading. “It’ll make me less likely to be mugged or something.” 

Jaune knew he was a still noodly, and looked kinda weak. But he was working really hard on that!

Jaune still took his blade without complaint, admittedly he has gotten so used to wearing it, he started feeling off when not wearing it.

Pyrrha rubbed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not like that Jaune, it’s not we’re concerned about you getting hurt, far from it, the odds of someone attacking you and them being huntsman trained are one in some hundred. We’re actually more concerned that someone might mug you and...”

Ren chimed in, “Well, you’re not Nora strong, but you’re being trained and have Aura, and that’s more than enough to hospitalize someone without one or both.”

Jaune grimaced at the idea. While he didn’t fancy himself strong or powerful, it as kinda hard to deny he hadn’t been making progress, last week he had managed to take off the head of one of the old drones that General Ironwood had donated to the academy. A regular human probably require much, much less effort.

So he nodded. “I see your point. Better to deter them, before they make a attempt.”

“Also, Ruby would be peeved if you didn’t start taking this.” Then Pyrrha pushed a black hand-canon into his hand. She then looked him in the eyes. “I’d also be rather put out, considering I paid for it.” A sly grin in her eyes.

Jaune sighed and equipped the gun to his waist opposite of Crocea Mors. Ever since he had started training with Pyrrha seriously, she had quite insistent about covering his ranged issues. So his devious partner, had behind his back teamed up with his best friend and local gun-nut, Ruby Rose, to make him a custom-hand canon.

Her evils truly knew no bounds. They had even come up with a name for it the devils! Noctis Mors.

Ruby had been a cruel task-master in teaching him the in’s and outs of shooting Noctis Mors, she had made him assemble and reassemble her until his hands bled gun oil. Suffice to say, while Noctis Mors felt a little strange on his hip, he was getting used to it.

“Thank you, Pyrrha.” He said, and pulled her into a hug, which she reciprocated.

“Better to have it and not need it, then to needed and not have it.”

Jaune smiled and shook his head, his friends were too good to him.

“Tell Nora, I said bye.”

Ren nodded his head. “You should leave before she loads you up with some grenades.”

Jaune shivered at the thought, he might be coming around to using Noctis Mors, but he doubted he’d ever get used to high-caliber explosives, He’d leave that to his crazy ginger bomber.

“Well, bye guys, I’ll see you later tonight.” Jaune said to his friend and Partner.

“Bye, Jaune.”

“Try not to eat to unhealthily!”

“I make no such promises!” Jaune said with a laugh, slipping out of the dorm.

Jaune made his way down the hallways of the dorm toward to the stairs that led outside. Where he encounters a quartet of familiar faces.

Jaune gave a friendly wave to Team RWBY as he walked towards them.

“Jaune!” Ruby said speeding over. “What are you up too? You’re not trying to ask Weiss out again are you?”

Jaune gave a eye-roll. “No, just heading out for the night. Just thought, I be a good friend and say hi.” Jaune said with stress on the word friend.

Ruby gave a laugh. “Sure, you are.”

The rest of her team caught up. Weiss in particular looked at him with suspicion,

“So, VB, whats the occasion for looking so sharp, you got a hot date tonight?” Yang asked giving him a approving nod.

“Hah, no, not tonight. I, uh, just gotta to get out for a night. You know? I just feel so trapped lately, and I want to not really think about things for a night.”

Ruby gave him a sympathetic nod.

While surprisingly Blake, the one he probably never interacted with, looked at him with a surprising level of empathy. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I hope you find what you’re looking for tonight.”

“Yeah me, too.”

Weiss then choose to cut in. “So, you don’t know what you’re looking for then?” Giving him a sharp look.

Jaune almost buckled under her gave, but straighten his back. “Uh, no, but, It’s not like I’m just idling around in Vale all nigh, I’ve got a couple places to hit up, but it’s not like I’m keeping to strict schedule, I either get to them or I don’t, I’m just trying to de-stress is all.”

Weiss huffed in disapproval, but said nothing in return. The Ice Queens love of schedules and appointments was approaching that of legend.

Yang then slung an arm around his shoulders, though she had to lean up to so. “Well, VB, that sounds fun and all, but Team RWBY as places to be and butts to kick, so go have your fun.” 

Jaune untangled himself. “That’s the plan, you guys go stop crime or whatever trouble you’ll get up to.”

“We don’t always do that!”

Jaune raised a suspicious brow at that.

“We don’t!”

“Sure.” Then Jaune turned and walked away, feeling as though he had won that conversation.

As he was leaving, he heard Weiss call out. “Arc.” Jaune turned to looked at her. “Try to not make a fool out of yourself, tonight.” The barest hint of what may one day be a smile on her face.

“That’s not on the list, but I’ll add it in anyway.” He said turning around, not bothering to try to find sort of conversation with her. He knew where they stood relationship wise, and if it could improve over time, that sounds good, if not, well all he could hope is keeping thing civil.

-------

Jaune made sure to pop something for his motion-sickness before he bordered the bullhead, so the flight down wasn’t as terrible as it could be, it was still awful, but at least he wasn’t spewing his guts everywhere.

His stomach feeling wobbly made he strike eating off the list for now, so he choose his first destination, and walked through one of Vales, many, many parks. Admiring the well-tended plant-life and occasionally waving at anybody who waved at him.

After his stomach settled, he decided to walk towards the closest bookstore, and just browsed till he founded something interesting. He had less-time with keeping up with comic and whatever came out of Mistral, since coming to Beacon. Still he left the store with couple interesting comics and even a couple books on stuff relating to huntsman actives.

Finally his stomach had decided to let him know, he could refill it. He ended up at a nice steak house, and somehow managed to get to a table in under a hour.

Jaune set at a table looking over a menu, he had already decided on what steak he want, now it was just onto sides.

A waitress then made herself known. “Hello, hello, what can I get you today?”

Jaune recited his order. 

“Right, well have it out as soon as possible. Also, from the rest of us here, we’d like to think you for your service.”

Jaune’s face crunched in confusion.

“Huntsmen are a invaluable part of our society, and as such, we’d like you to know that your meal is on the house tonight, if you require anything else, please just call.”

Then his waitress left, somehow managing to make Jaune feel appreciated and also like a complete piece of shit.

----

The meal was delicious, and Jaune had made sure to leave a nice tip anyway before leaving.

Did his dad get free meals like that? Did all huntsmen just get their bill wavered?

Jaune paused for a moment and sat on a bench, thinking.

He stares out into the evening light and all the people out there, living there lives, good or bad, they were still people weren’t they? They were probably didn’t even think about how to they need to get stronger, or how to kill the next grimm they face, were they?

They shouldn’t have to either? Should they, since that was his job kinda. Jaune thought for a second, he might not be a real huntsman, or even a real huntsman in training, but whats to stop him from faking it till he made it for real? What does it matter if the arms that carrys the sword has trained for two years or two months, if it can cut, it can serve.

If people were going to honor him as a huntsman, he was going to honor them by acting like one.

There wasn’t a smile on his face, but there wasn’t a frown either.

He didn’t have time to idle anymore, he needed to get back and work off this meal.

‘KAAAA-BOOOOM!!!’ A sound like none Jaune had heard before tore the air into pieces, it was so loud that it put any sound he heard before into a whimper. It was like the crack of thunder on a scale inconceivable, like lightning striking turned up to twelve.

His hearing was protected by Aura, and it was still ringing.

He turned his head towards the source of the sound, towards Beacon, and towards Patch, towards were he say the source of several more sources of the sound, and a terrible, but wondrous site.

Of what looked like one of those things Weiss summoned before, but bigger, on a scale that could cover entire city blocks! 

A pillar of sheer white light stuck Beacon, and in a moment of realization, what must be Signal on Patch.

A light so bright and terrible, Jaune felt it burn against his aura, and could see the fires start around the Emerald Forest. He carefully took his hand off his ear, the sound pound like a hammer into his head, and he could see the bones through his skin. He slapped his hand back across his head.

The pillars kept of their thunderous booming for several minutes, as Jaune covered his ears, watching in utter horror.

It felt almost like a the air was slapping against his bones, and sound was hitting against his bones, rattling and shaking them.

The ground as shaking too he realized.

Silence and darkness.

The pillars suddenly disappeared, and a vacuum of sound was left over.

The city was now dark and silent, as day left night along, as the lights in the city did not turn on, as the only light was that of the fires, there was no sound at first... Then the screams started.

AN: I can’t believe everyone, but, Jaune just got fucking Isekai’d.

#Jaune Arc #The Burdens of Lordship AU

[neon-junkie]

some shy!Flaco and gn!Reader for y’all

Also a modern setting cause I LOVE the thought of Flaco driving around in classic cars with big snazzy sunglasses on 8) 

Modern Flaco is 100% a retired movie star. He used to play the antagonist role in classic western films. Whenever a western came out, people would say "I bet Hernández will be playing the villain again," and surprise surprise, he is. Everybody loves it though, he's good at what he does and very famous for it.

Only issue is, Flaco hates the fame. He played in those movies because he wanted to. The money was a bonus, but the fame is a downfall.

So many people would kill to be in the position he is/was in, and the thought makes him chuckle. It's funny how life works.

Flaco lives in Hollywood, as cliche as it is, but he loves being able to drive down scenic routes, to drive past his old studios and set locations, and to have everything he enjoys at his doorstep.

He owns a really nice 1961 Chevrolet Impala. It's black with a red interior, and he spoils that thing cause it's his one true love.

Flaco rides around often with the top down, cigarette in one hand, other hand on the steering wheel, with some big bad boy sunglasses on. He's quite the sight and he knows it.

But he ignores everyone. Bunch of women fawning over him at the traffic lights? Ignore. Idiot in the car next to him revving his engine, wanting a race? Ignore.

He once accidentally ran over Micah Bell and didn't give a shit. He shouted "watch where you're going, blondie!" and looked in his car mirror to see Micah picking himself off the road. He was fine.

Flaco has a loose routine, and every Wednesday, he picks up Black Belle from her fancy mansion and they go get something to eat. He always picks her up around midday, and their meetups can take anywhere from an hour to all day.

Belle met Flaco many years ago when they were put on set together, and they've starred in a few films over the years. Belle doesn't mind the fame as much, she's happy to sign autographs and pose for photos here and there.

The two usually get some form of lunch together, though most of the time they day drink and get hammered by 3pm. Flaco just gets a taxi back to Belles and passes out on her sofa, cuddling her Irish Wolfhound. He then walks and picks up his car the next day, or the day after, depending on the hangover.

"Where we going today, Hernández?" Belle asks as she gets in his car. It's her usual greeting for him.

"How about we do exactly what we do each week, and drive around until we pick somewhere?" Flaco suggests, as always.

So the two of them do exactly that. They cruize around, fussing over where to eat.

Flaco always keeps a carton of eggs in his glovebox, as gross as that is, just so him and Belle can throw one at Little Boy Calloway whenever they see him. He's a sellout, a washed-up, grumpy old man, and they love to torment him for being such a wuss.

Flaco drives by this small cliche American diner on the corner of one street. As always, the traffic lights change so he has to wait a while, but he'll peer in the window, eyes glistening at that young server inside.

"They're far too pretty to be working in there, BB," Flaco tells Belle, as always.

"Here we go," Belle mocks, rolling her eyes. Flaco does this every week, driving this specific route just so he can enjoy his five-second gaze at you through the window. You've never noticed, surprisingly.

"They'll be mine one day, just you wait," Flaco grins, pushing his sunglasses back up his nose as the lights change to green.

"How about today, huh? Let's go inside," Belle suggests.

Flacos gaze quickly flicks over to Belle. "You crazy?!" He shouts.

"I am, and so are you. Come on, pull up here," Belle points at the car park just down the street.

Flaco's mumbling under his breath but he does it anyway. Belle always gets her way, he's a sister to her, and Flaco's an only child so it's hard for him to deny his adopted blood.

"I'm not even dressed nice. I look scruffy. Why can't we just go another day?" Flaco grunts as he parks.

"You wear the same damn thing every week. Now come on, quit your moaning," Belle says as she gets out of the car.

"No, I don't! I'm wearing new pants this week, look," Flaco says as he points to his jeans.

"Oh wow. New pants that look exactly like your old ones? You're really dressed to impress here, ain'tcha?" Belle teases.

Belle leads the way, hurrying Flaco along, teasing him over and over. "You gonna ask for their number? Ask 'em out on a date? Maybe you can take 'em for a ride? Hm?" She pokes and prods at him. Flaco stays silent, frowning, his sunglasses covering up half of his sulky face.

Belle's energetic when she enters the diner, greeting you with a smile and asking for a table for two. You talk to them in your customer service voice, seating them at a booth by the window.

You know exactly who they are. Who doesn't? Though you haven't seen all of their movies, you know the stuff that they've been in is really good, classic western films. A genre that you've studied at college.

Flaco takes his sunglasses off, placing them on the table. He keeps his gaze down and tries to focus on the menu you've placed in front of him.

"Would you like anything to drink?" You ask them.

"A chocolate milkshake please, sweetheart," Belle smiles at you. You've heard that she's a kind woman but you weren't expecting her to be this friendly.

"Sure. And for you?" You ask Flaco, who keeps his gaze down.

"Ermm. Uhh. I'll just have the same as her," Flaco replies, quickly brushing you off.

You tell them you'll be quick with their drinks and leave them to it. You assumed Flaco was just tired, maybe his reddened cheeks is from the heat outside?

"A milkshake?" Belle mocks once you've gone into the back. "Hernández, you hate milkshakes!" She laughs.

"I panicked, alright?!" Flaco grumbles.

"Why don't we call her back over so you can fumble about even more as you change your mind?" Belle teases.

"No!" Flaco almost shouts. A customer nearby jumps out of his skin, intimidated by Flacos deep and sudden voice.

"Alrighhttttt," Belle grins. "You make sure you know what you really want to eat though," Belle talks to him in a baby voice. It always winds him up but since they're in public, Flaco can't make a scene and playfight back.

You bring the drinks over and the two of them thank you, Belle smiling up at you whilst Flaco keeps his head dipped down. "You ready to order?" you ask, and they both nod.

You take their orders and everything seems fine, so you head back into the kitchen to hand them over to the cook.

"You not want a side order of their number with that, Hernández?" Belle grins again.

"I should never have agreed to come here. You are the most embarrassing woman I've ever met," Flaco sighs, looking at Belle with the most blankly frustrated look he's ever pulled.

All Belle does is grin and enjoy her milkshake, urging Flaco to drink his own.

He does, and he can't handle the sweetness. But Flaco drinks it anyway, not wanting to make any more of a mess than he's already in.

The rest of their time there goes smoothly, enjoying their food and nattering away. Flaco slowly relaxes, but Belle notices the way his eyes flick to watch you every time you appear.

"So, you gonna ask? or have I gotta do it for you?" Belle asks.

"Why don't you feed me whilst we're at it? Maybe drive me to the bar so I can get blackout drunk and try to forget this humiliating experience?" Flaco groans, half chewing his food. He doesn't care and Belle's used to seeing him talking whilst he eats.

"Fine, I'll do it then," Belle rolls her eyes. Flaco goes to stop her but it's too late, she's called you over.

"We'll take the bill when you're ready, sweetheart," Belle tells you.

"Sure, no problem." You're about to walk off but Belle speaks again.

"Flaco, ain't there something you wanted to say?" Belle asks, grinning from ear to ear as the two of you look at him.

"Oh, erm..." Flaco mumbles, quickly wiping the ketchup off his stache with a napkin. "Could... could you send my compliments to the chef, please?" He asks.

"Of course! She'll be happy to hear it," you smile at him, quickly turning away to head into the back.

"Hernández!" Belle kicks him under the table.

"You can't put me on the spot like that!" Flaco frowns, trying to keep his voice down again.

"Fine, I give up," Belle sarcastically sighs.

"You do?"

"Yep," she shrugs. "You've won, Hernández. You'll have to pick them up in your own time," she sighs.

"Hmm. I've known you far too long to know that you don't give up this easily," Flaco squints.

"Nope, I've truly given up. No point wastin' my time when you won't co-operate," Belle shrugs again.

Flaco's suspicious but leaves it.

The two of them pay and leave, giving you a fat tip that makes your eyes sparkle. Belle insists you take it, Flaco nodding in agreement but still staying quiet.

Finally, they head off, leaving the diner and heading back to the car.

"Oh, shit! I left my purse in the diner," Belle sighs. "I'll meet you at the car, alright?"

Flaco's about to say he'll just come back with her but she's already ran across the street, flipping off the stranger that almost ran her over.

Flaco rolls his eyes and heads back. He starts the car, putting on his sunglasses and lighting a cigarette.

Belle comes round the corner, grinning from ear to ear.

'I knew I couldn't trust her, what's she done now?' Flaco thinks to himself.

"Why are you smiling?" Flaco snaps as Belle gets in the passenger side.

"This is for you," Belle mischievously grins, handing Flaco a piece of paper with your number on it.

"BB, why you gotta put me on the spot like this, huh? This is so embarrassing," he shakes his head, taking out his wallet so he can put the piece of paper away safely.

"Oh, don't you worry. They said they get just as nervous as you do," Belle tells him as she puts her sunglasses on, leaning her arm on the car door.

"They do?" Flaco asks, seeming surprised.

"Course. It's that natural attraction, Hernández," Belle teases.

"Oh, shut up you," Flaco swats his hand.

Maybe one day he'll be able to get her back, but for now, he needs to work up the confidence to call you.

#FLACO RUNNING OVER MICAH AHAHAHA #i laughed when they came to mind #flaco hernandez #Flaco Hernández #flaco hernández/reader #flaco hernández x reader #flaco hernández/you #flaco hernández #flaco hernández x you #gn!reader #headcanon #rdrwriting #rdrheadcanon #rdrheadcanons #headcanons #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #modern setting #modern AU #Red Dead Redemption #Red Dead #red dead redemption 2 #Red Dead Redemption Online #red dead online #rdro #flaco #flachoes #black belle #reader #reader insert

[redevenir]

rigil kentaurus (pt. i)

The brightest star of the Alpha Centauri solar system – our closest neighour. Its name is the latinisation of the arabic رِجْل القِنْطورُس‎ Rijl al-Qinṭūrus, meaning the Foot of the Centaur. It is slightly larger and more luminous than the Sun. W

seungkwan x reader

wc : ~ 4000

summary : you are only a spectator of your life until they take your hand and let you live it.

a/n : started it as a seungkwan piece, then turned it into a johnny one then coming back to seungkwan bc this is how i wan to keep writing it. it's like i can't keep writing it if it's not seungkwan i don't know.

« It’s the fourth one. » Chan’s voice is only a hushed whisper but you hear how bothered he is. You don’t answer.

I know…

No, It’s already the fourth one tonight, and it’s only eleven!

I know…

It’s like they’re not even trying! Seungkwan barely avoids the tea towel as Chan raises his arms out of exasperation. If they don’t what a cappuccino is, why do they order it anyway? It’s a coffee shop, just buy a coffee! You know you don’t need to answer that. You’ve been working here for months and complaining about customers seems to be a universal way of breaking the ice. You’ve heard this speech from your first week at the counter, and with time you’ve come to agree with whatever colleague you were with, on every single point. Not once have you considered quitting to find something else instead. It is, indeed, not the best place. At the entrance of the city, the beginning of the highway. It is neither cozy nor warm. The air conditioning is too strong half of the year, the radiator too hot during the six months of winter. You are either sweating or shivering. The playlist is sickening, and never in tune with the season. You ignore Maria Carey’s christmas’s vocals as you give a customer a refill. Night workers and truck drivers are your only customers during the night shifts. You have stopped judging them long ago.

For months on end, the only thing Chan could tell about his coworker was that you were not a model employee. It was hard to blame you for anything specific. But you felt off. You felt nothing. When Seungkwan asked him how his shifts went, he would just shrug. It felt like he spent many of his nights on his own rather than with you. Like you were not there with him. Every evening he would arrive, greet you and feel like it was the first time ever. And he would grumble about it.

Can you believe I know nothing about her ?

Well, she’s surely a very private person.

Yes, and that’s rude.

You make little to no effort to appeal to the customers. In fact, you barely engage at all with them. Although, and this is your secret, you do have your favorites. From the three maintenance workers of the power plant to the security guard who comes four times a week, before the end of your shift, after the end of his own, Chan has found out that, if he listens to you close enough he’ll learn their names. Because you know them. You often seem to be elsewhere, but when you wish them a nice evening, or good luck, you do say their name, quietly, without any fuss. A sign to him you weren’t completely indifferent but thoughtful in a different way from his. There is nothing likeable to the Dreamy Drivin Chan works at. First of all, it is not a drive-in, nor a drive-through, it is a mere coffee shop. Not a fancy one, not a chain one. The counter’s light green is ugly, the temperature’s always off, and the pay is honestly not much. This is how life is at the border of the city. You catch what you can get and you try to make it work. He assumes the reason you’ve landed there is the same as his and Seungkwan’s : dropped from school, without any proper qualification for a living. He assumes you are his age, that your face must look younger when you are not tired. Chan is nice. Well, Chan likes to tease his friends, but Chan is nice. He tries to reach you, one sentence at a time.

White noises. The purring of the coffee machine you’ve never seen off. They come in, white shirt, stained jeans, black coats. They order the same thing, the largest, darkest coffee you got. You serve them with a « good night », « good luck » if you feel in a kinder mood. Since Seungkwan’s smile is bright and big and loud, you’ve decided you didn’t need to fake one of your own. They pay for their order and leave for never ending roads you cannot quite picture in your mind. When you work long shifts, it seems to you the world is shrinking, that if you open the front door you will fall into a bottomless pit. That the joke of a coffee shop you work at is some sort of asteroid gas station where rocket drivers stop by on their way to the Andromeda galaxy. You tell yourself Earth is also a little rocking drifting among the stars. You welcome a new customer. You dream of outer space. It is known people turn to alcohol and other substances to forget their troubles, but you don’t need that. Numbness greets you every time the pointing machine does its trick, and you even lose sight of your daily life. Surely you have one, plants to grow, books to read, hiking to walk and messes to clean. People to see and a sun to meet. But here, behind your pale green counter, you consign it all to oblivion. Here, there is only the world in your head and the star who takes orders by your side that exist. Your hear Chan’s annoyed sigh. You serve another coffee. It feels like taming the crow that lives in the tree in front of his building. Like he could give you bread and even croissant crumbs every single night and you would still be distant. And one day, you initiate the conversation, and he knows he’s done well. He remembers it just fine now. It was probably a boring wednesday, late in the afternoon. It had been a cloud few hours since he had woken up. A dim midday sun dissolving into the thick gray air. He was already behind the counter, checking the clock, when you had busted in the room, panting. There was some pathetic charm about the whole scene. You don’t hide your surprise when you see Chan already there, and a smile had made its way – oh so joyful and unsettled. The smile on your face had remained unchanged when he had asked you. And why are you late ?

I am not ? You had answered. What the manager doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

Ooh, so that’s how it is. Chan relates to that. He never complains about you again. Next time he talks about you, he tells Seungkwan you are his friend now. His quiet, merry friend who never works day shifts. Chan does. As it happens, Chan hates working the night shifts and only does it when Seungkwan can’t. Seungkwan is kind. Seungkwan is the most loveable being Chan has known in years. Seungkwan is grounded and warm, and steady. Moving in with him was like having finally his roots planted into rich, reliable earth, instead of the slippery mud he had been walking on for most of his life. Chan is heard, is seen. Chan sleeps well, and goes out of his way whenever Seungkwan asks him a favor, because it is easy to satisfy him. Easy, and right. He tells Seungkwan you’ve asked after him, and watches as the other chokes on his coffee.

Can’t believe you’d think I wouldn’t notice.

When Seungkwan comes back to the night shifts, you don’t mention him ever leaving, but he notices the change in you immediately. When you greet him, he looks at your face and wonders what was so bad that your better rested face still looks worn out. You’re not as lively as he is, you’re not as lively as Chan is, hell, you’re not even as lively as Chan said you were with him – which wasn’t that much to begin with. But you are here. There is a relief in your presence. Seungkwan said nothing about his absence, and diligently drinks the cup of coffee you offer him around three. Seungkwan regrets the day shift but still. It could be worse. As he tries his best to maintain his customer service to its level – it is hard and how, how did he manage to do it before ? Is this the reason why you don’t ? Don’t set any standard, at all, so no one can be disappointed – and especially not you – when you don’t live up to them. Seungkwan wonders how hard you really are on yourself, and if he isn’t being dramatic. Maybe you’re all right. Maybe you look terrible because that’s how you look. Maybe you were born tired and he has no need to worry about you. Maybe you don’t need him to meddle in your privacy. Surely, if you wanted him to know about your life you’d tell him yourself.

The softest clunk ever heard by a human ear snaps him out of his thoughts. He meets your concerned look and the large cup of latte you’re handing to him.

Seungkwan, you should go home. Take it easy. Night shifts are hard.

He looks at you with wide eyes, opens his mouth, close it, opens it again and stutters.

But- no ! I mean- I can’t- I- I- you- I can’t let you do this alone- It- It- no, it’s not right! You shrug and gesture vaguely toward the empty diner hall.

It’s whatever, really. You try to elaborate as he doesn’t answer. No one’s here, you’re clearly not here, there’s only two hours left, just, you know. Go to sleep. I really don’t mind. You don’t have to fight me on this, by the way, it’s not like I’d tell anyone.

Seungkwan does as you say, doesn’t fight you on this. He can’t manage a proper thought, a proper thank you. He goes in the locker room, picks up his stuff, only to hesitate before the front door, until you repeat yourself, a sweet promise of rest. He spends the journey back home away from his body, replaying the scene over and over. He knows he’s screwed when he opens the door to his and Chan’s apartment. It’s ridiculous, and he would feel ashamed if he wasn’t so tired. How easy it is to let you take care of him. He crashes on his bed still in his work clothes and forgets his last thoughts.

Your shift passes without a fuss. It doesn’t feel like you’re there either.

You close your book when you realize you’re not reading anything. There is a light buzz in your brain, but it is quiet. Unthreatening. You close your eyes and your reaches for the cup of hot cocoa on your desk. It’s all nice and quiet here, and you wonder how you’ve managed to make your apartment such a peaceful nest when your mind is so often washed out by fierce tempests. You let your mind drift away, floating on a safe shore. Breaks from work are nice. Your sleep schedule is well set by now, and you can properly enjoy those forty-eight hours for yourself. You don’t spend every week night longing for them, because you never project yourself into the future, but you would if you did. Dawns are definitely your favorite moment of the day. Either they mean you can go home, or that you have an entire day to relish in the warmth of your place. It is a nest indeed. A kitchen and a bedroom, all stuffed into the maze of a much bigger building. The wooden floor is quite creaky and you do hear when the neighbor upstairs wears their heels. The walls are a very faded shade of orange, which you love – sun-like colors are for good luck. The furniture is definitely older than you are – older than your parents, probably – but it is nice. And the day you’ll leave it will remain exactly the same. More used but untouched. In a way, the atmosphere is not unlike the Dreamy. Homey and decay. Anonymous, but in a belonging way. Chan would hate it. His apartment – well, their apartment – is probably… You can’t picture it. You don’t know enough about home interiors to picture someone else’s home. Comfortable. Maybe furs as bed-covers? You have never touched one before, but sometimes you catch a glimpse of them on the passenger seat of a car. Your gaze never lingers though : you are not to look at a car owner in the eyes.

Seungkwan feels like he’d sleep nested in a bed of wool and furs. He’d probably like the soft but rough feeling of it against his skin. There’s something comforting about raw fabrics, isn’t there? A bubble of heat slowly builds in your chest and you close your eyes shut to chase the thoughts of Seungkwan’s bare skin in his bed.

Seungkwan is quiet, but not discreet. He is clumsy and always in his own world, parallel to yours, but you wonder how many light years are between you, and it is all to his credit. There is something you find commendable to his behavior. A reliable honesty. Not unlike a dog, you can tell from the look on his face whether he is content or anxious or annoyed. You do not have to imagine his hidden agenda – you are positive he has none. The easiness with which Seungkwan expresses himself still amazes you, even after a year or so of observing him a few nights a week. It seems to you his feelings have no hindrance to them : pure joy, pure irritation, pure panic whenever one of you breaks a cup – it happens more than you like to admit. When his voice rushes to tell you a quick joke between two customers, the joyful spontaneity of his tone carries you miles away from the counter, to bright afternoons on windy shores. He is quick-witted and never misses a chance to tell you whenever he notices something amusing. Simplicity is Seungkwan’s most beautiful quality, you have decided. When you are not drifting around other solar systems, when you come back home to your place, when you are lying in bed a few minutes more before getting dressed up, you try to imagine what he is doing at the same time. What does his apartment look like, what does he like to cook, does he have a dog and why is his smile so charming. Sometimes under the shower you wonder what he would think about you if he were to see you naked. You try to leave these thoughts in the shower where they belong but you cannot always control your mind and you find yourself embarrassed in front of him more often than you care to admit.

You collect information about him like a gold digger their gold nuggets. Every word he addresses you, you replay in your head again and again until you can hear him breathe them against your ear in the darkness of your bedroom. So when Seungkwan comes back, all quiet and cautious, pondering on his words and his welcoming attitude almost erased, you act on it as best as you can. You are not brave enough to properly ask him about it, so you do what you do best. You observe. How quieter he has become, and the slow but unstoppable growth of the bags under his eyes. Not that he seemed well-rested at all, which is also worrying. What did he go through that was even more tiring than working night shifts? Of course, it is none of your business. If Chan were there, maybe he’d spill the tea, but Chan made it very clear he didn’t want to work a night shift ever again. Will you ever talk to him again? The little one you’re so found of. Chan said Seungkwan was a neat roommate to have, and for him to give up the sunlight for months, you assumes he means it. The understatement is lovely. Chan would never spill Seungkwan’s secrets.

You light up the gas, put the little orange pan on it, pour the milk in it. With that you empty the milk carton, and throw it in the trash. Who knows when you’ll be able to afford milk again? You haven’t seen any in the store for weeks – and you restrain yourself from stealing the Drivin. It isn’t worth it. As you wait for the milk to heat up, you hear a gentle knock on your door. You lower the fire, apprehension growing in your chest. You’re not expecting anybody, so this can’t be good. On your tiptoes, breathing deep, you reach the front door and slowly open it. Wary, you let yourself look at whoever is standing outside.

Oh, miss, hello! Sorry to bother you! Someone just called after you, so I thought I’d let you know ! She lived here too. You don’t know her name, but she’s definitely older than you are. She lives upstairs, you’re not sure of the floor. She looks like a teacher, and her enunciation sounds like that too. She has a little polite smile on, aware of your discomfort, the stiffness of your body being obvious. As she sees your absence of reaction, she hands you a piece of paper, covered in smooth carbon writing. Definitely a teacher. One of your coworker, he said he was. I forgot yo ask for his number, but if he calls back, do you want me to tell him something specific ?

Huh, no! I mean- No, no, no, you don’t need- you don’t- you don’t need to do anything, miss. I’m- I’m sorry he took the liberty to call you, I don’t wish to bother you ! You mouth is so dry. Thank you! Thank you! Sorry again! I’ll leave you be then! Have a nice day! You shut the door without noticing the smile she has on again.

The ringing in your head takes over everything else. You try to reach for something to keep your balance and crumble against the wall, choking for air. You crumple the piece of paper in your fist, nails digging in the soft flesh of your palms, tearing little moon crescent that taint the words you haven’t even read. She knows now. What kind of person doesn’t have a telephone at home? Who, if not someone who is trying to remain unreachable? Untraceable. Your head is about to implode from the pain. Now she’ll know. Now, she knows you have something to hide. You lie on the floor, chasing after your breathe. Who will she tell? Does she live alone ? Is she a public teacher ? How long do you have until she tells on you? You cannot dare to think you might have to go now, tears burning your eyes as you hiccup desperately. The hawk claws on your chest only dig deeper and deeper until your forehead is against the floor, searching for cold, for a relief from the blades in your brain.

The crisis lasts for hours.

The room is dark when you emerge, and a faint, panicked thought about being late comes to you but you’re quick to remember you don’t have to work tonight. Smoke and the smell of burnt is all around you. Shit, the milk. Mouth dry, head numb, you slowly sit up, body hoarse. Feeling a light pain in your hands, you let your fingertips brush over the scab already formed. The piece of paper is still in your left hand, torn and bloody. Finally, you smooth it and read the few words on it. Coworker wants to know when next free day is. also have a good day. You stare at it without making any sense out of it. What coworker? Which one? Your planning is with everyone else’s at work. You feel nauseous. Muscles sore, you stand up and go to the kitchenette to turn the fire down. Without second thought you throw the now empty pan in the trash. Fuck all of this. Mindlessly, you reach the bathroom, undressing yourself as in a dream. After you’re done you let yourself fall on the bed. Quiet, in the back of your head, you start to make a list. Tomorrow, tomorrow you will pack. Just in case.

When you arrive at work the next night, you put an obviously packed bag under the counter. You don’t greet Seungkwan. You don’t look at him. The shift goes by without a word addressed to him. At dawn, a few minutes before you’re both free to go, Seungkwan clears his throat next to you.

I-… Hum. I, well, it’s obvious you don’t want to talk about it, but- Well, just- Just so you know. Chan says he’s sorry. He would never hav- You cut him off, stern, as you wipe the cloth over the counter to make it shine. So it was Chan.

I don’t know what you’re talking about. You hear him open and close his mouth. He seems to understand his place.

O- Ok. Have a good day rest then.You don’t bother to answer him before leaving, bag on your shoulder.

Time passes slowly.

You haven’t looked at Seungkwan in the eyes for so long now, Chan wonders if you still know what he looks like. Every afternoon when Seungkwan eats his breakfast and Chan comes back home to a most welcome snack, the night worker sighs heavy, burdened by your silence. It’s unbearable.  It’s unbearable for him to go to work every night with someone who was once friendly and has turned into a wall, a wall for which he longs to love. It’s unbearable for Chan to see his roommate on the verge of tears because of the guilt. It’s unbearable to know their action has you ready to run away every minute of every day.

The thing with Seungkwan is that he is quite good at reading people. Even though he does enjoy some unnecessary drama as much - and maybe more - as others - he usually manages to get through his life without ruffling any feather. It makes it a lot harder to comfort him with empty words when he knows you’re avoiding him, because he has been looking at you. This is how one should talk to people, he has learned. Not everyone is comfortable doing so, he also learned. Sometimes, Seungkwan says nothing, for he is afraid to annoy you away. There is no pleasure whatsoever in taking the night shift. The place is already dull by day, but by night it reaches a new dimension of boredom. Sure, it pays a bit better, but it is not worth it. Since he is not asked anyway, and he does not get to choose his shifts, Seungkwan tries to prize the strays of light in this fog of ennui. First, the night regulars seem to like him better than the day ones. He likes to think they enjoy his enthusiasm and maybe it is one of the reasons they keep coming and ordering there. The other one is you. Although now you are not at all like a light ray and more of a far away storm, high at sea.

Seungkwan would’ve liked it better if had you unleashed hell upon him. Before you used to not talk to him, but it felt more like you were shy, or reserved. Or merely didn’t know what to say, which is a very understandable feeling when you’re still at work at two in the morning five days a week. It didn’t feel awkward. Well, it sometimes felt a bit awkward, but not in the bad way. Now… Now you’re very obviously pretending he is not there, and Seungkwan wants to cry. All of it is his fault. Chan only called to you because of his rambling. I would have called her anyway. I like her. She’s my weird work friend. It’s unbearable. He jumps when Chan drops his fork on his plate with a loud clunk.

I’ll make it up. I can fix this. The eldest doesn’t look up from his meal. Chan wants to rip his own eyes and scream. With her. Inquisitive and tired eyes shoot up. I’m gonna do something about it.

Wha- Wha- Chan, there’s no fixing it, what are you talking about ? She comes to work every day with a bag which I’m sure is full of necessary stuff. You know what that means. I know what that means. She obviously know what that means. There is no fiwing this.

I know, I know. I don’t mean- Deep breathe. I know I can’t fix everything, obviously. But I’m going to apologize to her, and she’ll talk to you. And, well. It’s going to work. Seungkwan shrugs. He says nothing more until he leaves for work.

Chan slumps into the sofa. He’s fucked up big this time. It sucks. He really is a fool. Living one day at a time, he’s lost perspective. He has even forgotten why his life is like that in the first place. How could he be so careless? He’s a fly. Well, all of you are flies. Clearly, you’ve managed to get out the web and he has brought you back into it. Chan’s a fool. He stands up in a sigh, put on his shoes and goes back to the Dreamy Drivin’.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagine #seungkwan #seungkwan imagine #bsk #my writings

[bellemorte180]

Compromise Coffee

Caroline Forbes has a coffee problem; or better described as a crush on the cute barista, Klaus, who knows how to make her large, non-fat latte with a caramel drizzle and two extra espresso shots just right. After years of coming to Compromise Coffee, Caroline thought he would have made a move by now, but he hasn't. Caroline has decided that it is time for her to make the move herself.

Written for June 2020 Bingo- prompt Coffee Shop @klaroline-events

Compromise Coffee

The smell of coffee wafted through the small shop. The coffee at Compromise Coffee was astonishing and far better than anything that could be bought at Starbucks; and half the price. The taste of the coffee was bold and dedicant; the lattes always have the exact amount of foam to coffee ratio that pleased Caroline. They did not just serve coffee or fancy lattes, they also specialized in teas (literally having tea sets that can be brought out for the real picky tea drinkers), pleasing both coffee and tea drinkers alike. From the moment she had stepped into the small coffee shop her freshman year of college, she was hooked.

It was a relatively new shop then, having only been open for a year or so and located near Whitmore College. It had taken off and became a local student hot spot almost instantly. It was always crowed but never overly noisy. It had hard wood flooring with high ceilings and tall windows that let natural light in. It felt industrial but cozy at the same time. The staff was friendly, and Caroline never had to return an order; and Caroline had no issues with doing so if her order was just slightly off. If her large, non-fat latte with a caramel drizzle and two extra espresso shots was not perfect, Caroline could become cranky. Yet it was rare for her to have to return any of her drinks at Compromise.

Although, that might be because there was only one barista that even made Caroline’s lattes anymore. Klaus. He was always behind the counter when she stepped into the shop and by the time, she made it to the counter, her drink was ready for her; the word Sweetheart written in place of her name. At first, when Caroline was nothing more than a sweet and innocent college freshman, she had been offended. She was still in a long-distance relationship with her high school sweetheart who she thought she was going to marry when he had written her name on the cup the first time.

To say that relationship crashed and burned was an understatement.

Klaus, the barista who purposely continued to label her drink as Sweetheart, even five years later, became an infuriating fixture in her weekly routine. Between his exasperating smile, refusal to write her actual name on the cup and the fact that he made her drink exactly how she liked it made Caroline confused on whether she loved or hated him. At first, she would swear it was in the latter category because, while he never pushed her or demanded anything from her, especially after she made it clear that she was in a serious relationship, made his interest well known. Even though she was with Tyler, Caroline could not help but be flattered by it; and that only made her angrier.

Her irritation at him lasted for literal years before she began to soften towards him.

It was actually Klaus who helped her get over the fact that Tyler cheated on her; and had been for years she had come to learn. She spent the majority of her college career with that dickhead, practically celibate, and he had been screwing every girl in sight. When Klaus realized why she was sitting by herself in the back of the coffee shop crying, all drinks were on the house and even sent over the chocolate scones she liked for free. He listened to her cry more than once and even wrote sweet messages on her cup when he saw she was upset.

The words ‘You’re strong, beautiful and full of light’ became one of her favorites.

After she pulled herself from her heartbreak and banged Tyler’s memory from her system, she had thought that maybe Klaus would make a move. She no longer felt guilty for the way seeing his perfect scroll of Sweetheart made her heart flutter. Or how his smirk was softer when it was directed to her. Their banter drew her in instead of infuriating her. She secretly liked how he pushed her buttons but at the same time he would bend over backwards to make her smile; adding just a tiny bit more foam than he would for other customers or going heavy on the caramel drizzle. Caroline had thought he would ask her out or make some sort of move; but he never did.

“Earth to Caroline.” Bonnie’s voiced pulled Caroline from her musings. Bonnie was waving her hand in front of her face while wearing an amused smirk on her face. “Is it the early mornings at the news station that have you zoned out or is it because you’re drooling over Klaus again?”

“I wasn’t drooling.” Caroline replied heatedly while touching her lips with her fingers. They were dry. “And I wasn’t looking at Klaus. I was just thinking about work things while staring off into space in his general direction. I wasn’t staring at him. Nope. Not at all.”

“Right. Of course, you weren’t.” Bonnie snorted, shooting a look towards Elena. Caroline looked towards her other friend, hoping that Elena would back her up. The three of them were sitting at their usual table that the claimed every Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings; late mornings. Caroline was working as a news reporter for the local station but seeing that she was only a year out of college, she got worst shift possible. She was at work every morning by 3 am and finished her day by ten in the morning. Given the fact that Elena was in medical school and Bonnie was still taking grad courses at Whitmore, their coffee meet ups were really the only time they were able to spend time with one another. “Why don’t you just ask him out already? It’s been what? Two years that you’ve been drooling over him? Longer if you count you having that massive crush on him while you were still dating douchebag.”

“Bonnie!” Elena exclaimed. “Caroline is not interested in Klaus and I don’t think he is interested in her either.”

“Really Elena?” Bonnie asked in a disbelieving tone. Bonnie reached over and picked up Caroline’s to-go mug and placed it in front of Elena; the word Sweetheart clearly visible. “Not to mention he knows her name because he greets her with “Morning Caroline” every time he sees her, something he doesn’t do with either of us and not to mention he has Caroline’s ridiculous coffee order memorized and perfected. If that doesn’t scream interest, I don’t know what does.”

“My coffee order is not ridiculous!”

“I just don’t think Caroline and Klaus would work out.” Elena said and her passionate tone took Caroline aback. “I mean think about it. Caroline is a news reporter. Yes, her hours are shitty, but she is just starting out. One day she is going to be a kick ass news anchor. Klaus is a career barista who has been working at a coffee shop for at least five years. How would that work?”

“Wow Elena…” Caroline muttered, amazed at how judgmental her friend could be. Even Bonnie was looking at Elena with a slacked jaw, surprise written over her face. “Tone down the bitchiness a bit.”

“I’m just saying that you could do better.” Elena told her, tossing her a look of sincerity. “I want you to be happy and I don’t want you to end up like you did when Tyler cheated on you.”

“Um, being a barista does not mean that Klaus would cheat on me.” Caroline retorted. She did not even know if Klaus and her would hit it off; or even if she would ask him out. She wanted to and had to admit that Bonnie was right; she should have asked him out ages ago. However, she was terrified that he would say no.

“I think there is someone better out there for you.”

“Elena…please do not say what I think you’re about to say.”

“I think that if you gave Stefan a chance...”

“No!” Caroline all but shouted. By this point Bonnie had her fingers on her forehead as though she was trying to ease away a migraine. “How many times Elena do I have to tell you that I am not interested in Stefan. I do not want to go out with him. It would be like making out with my brother and I’m not George R.R. Martin who gets off on that stuff!”

“Just think about it though!” Elena exclaimed with a dreamy look on her face. “I’m engaged to Damon. Bonnie is with Jeremy and if you and Stefan got together, our circle of friends would be complete. All our kids would be cousins and would grow up together. It would be perfect!”

“Yeah….no.” Caroline just shook her head and shot Bonnie a look. It was clear that Bonnie still had not confided into Elena that she was thinking about ending her relationship with Jeremy. Caroline did not blame her. If it was any indication on how she assumed that Caroline should fall in love with Stefan, it would not go over well. “For the last time, I am not going to pursue a relationship with Stefan. Drop it already.”

“What would you and Klaus even talk about? Like, do you know anything about him?” Elena snapped at her, clearly irritated by Caroline’s response. The latter rolled her eyes but refused to discuss the issue anymore.

“That is the purpose of a date Elena.” Bonnie told her calmly. “To get to know one another. He clearly likes her. He watched her morning shows-“

“He watches my morning show?!” Caroline asked bewildered. “How would you even know that? I’m rarely ever on it and am just a fill in when one of the other reporters can’t work.”

“I popped in here one morning before my early class. You know, the one with professor St. John?”

“The hot British one? The one you want to ‘TA’ for next year?” Caroline asked.

“Yeah. That one.” Bonnie replied, smirking ever so slightly while Elena scowled. “Anyway, I came into a grab coffee to go and it was the 6:00 am news cast, I think. You were doing some story about the kid who got stuck in the toy machine.”

“Quality news there.” Caroline muttered. While she did not mind doing fluff pieces, she had to start somewhere, the only reason she got that piece was because her coworker Andi had to fill in for the star news anchor Cami called in sick. Caroline took over Andi’s piece and she finally got to do a report that wasn’t at 4:00 am.

“Wait. If it was six in the morning, why was a kid stuck in a toy machine?” Elena asked, confused. Caroline knew that Elena did not watch her show, mainly because she was usually at the hospital by that point, so Caroline tried not to take offense, but her irritation was already at an all-time high at that moment.

“It was a small convivence store and the owner couldn’t find a babysitter that day, so she brought the kid into work with her. She thought he was sleeping and when she went to check on him, he was in the claw machine.” Caroline looked back at Bonnie. “Okay, so he watched my show once while opening the store. Does not mean he likes me.”

“The fact that he turned it off the moment you were off screen says differently.” Bonnie smirked. “And he got bright red when he saw me. Had to go in the back. Liv made my mocha for me that morning. It was adorable.”

“Still. Do you honestly think you can be with someone who has no ambition? Five years working in a coffee shop is a long time. Most people we know who have worked here have moved on.” Elena pointed out. Caroline and Bonnie just shared a look. It was true that most people they have seen worked here no longer do and have moved on. Although, they were not particularly close with any of those people either. “Like, what if he is an artist or something and his dream is to become the next Picasso? It would explain why he works in a coffee shop and not something better.”

“Wow Elena, and they call me the judgmental one.” Caroline snapped at her. Caroline wanted to continue on a tirade against Elena, stating that if Klaus did want to become the next Picasso and was working at Compromises in order to make ends meet, it would not stop her from going out with him. However, at that moment Liv, one of the baristas, came up and placed a plate with a few brownies on them.

“Hey guys, Klaus said that these needed to be pulled, they are from yesterday, and instead of tossing them he said to go ahead and bring them up to you guys.” Liv told them in a brisk manner. Liv wasn’t the nicest barista they ever had but she made a mean latte and didn’t question the free things that Caroline tended to get. She minded her own business; her brother Luke was the exact opposite. He also worked at the coffee shop but was nosey and the worst gossip; always gushing about his boyfriend of the minute. Caroline adored him.

“Well that was mighty sweet of Klaus.” Caroline looked toward Elena with a wide smile. “Wouldn’t you say Elena?”

“Liv?” Bonnie ignored Caroline and turned toward the barista. Liv, who had been about to walk away paused. “I was wondering if you could tell me a little about Klaus? Like what is he like to work with? What is he into? Is he single?”

“Why? Going to ask him out?” Liv smirked at her, but her eyes flickered to Caroline. “He is great actually. Flexible and completely understanding that most of us are college students, so he is always willing to switch up the schedule. As far as hobbies, no idea but he loves this place like it was his first born. He is here at four in the morning almost every day. He makes the bake goods from scratch so I guess you could say baking is a hobby-“

“Wait. Why is he here every day so early? And why is he making the schedule? Is he like the manager or something?” Elena butted in, as though Liv was about to make a point for her. Caroline couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her friend. She was at the point that she would ask Klaus out just to spite Elena; ignoring the fluttering feeling she got at the thought of actually going on a date with him.

“I mean, sure. I guess you could say that. He owns the place so, yeah, I would call him our manager.”

“Wait he owns this place?” Elena said. “No. No. The guy in the suit is the owner. I’ve seen him. He pops in every now and then, tells Klaus what to do and then goes in the back to what I’m assuming is his office.”

“Elijah? He is Klaus’s brother, but he isn’t the owner. He comes around from time to time and double checks the books as a favor to Klaus. He is in finance or something, but this place is Klaus’s. He put his blood sweat and tears into the shop.” Liv chuckled. “Although, now that you mention it, Elijah is a tea drinker and Klaus probably does the whole specialty tea thing as a favor Elijah, who hates coffee.”

“Huh. Why would a man who hates coffee open a coffee shop?” Caroline ask in an uppity tone. She turned to Elena, who appeared very annoyed, and gave her perfect pageant smile. “I guess the lifetime barista just got upgraded to small business owner.”

“As for your other question...” Liv chimed in again. Her eyes flickered to Caroline again but turned back to Bonnie. “Klaus is single, but he is desperately hung up on someone. Like, he has it bad. Really bad.” Liv debated with herself. “If she were to ask him out, the answer would most definitely would be yes.”

With that, Liv walked away from the table, leaving the three women staring after her; each with different reaction. Elena appeared irritated while Bonnie was beaming. Caroline was flushed red at the implication and her mind going a mile a minute.

“I’m going to do it.” Caroline decided, standing from the table. Bonnie grinned at her with pride while Elena was trying to tell her it was a bad idea; Caroline ignored her. Instead, she looked over to the coffee bar and saw that Klaus was just wiping down the counter. The shop was slow, and she knew that if she didn’t do it now, she may not have a chance later.

Gathering all her confidence, Caroline strolled over to the counter. Klaus, who was cleaning the espresso machine by the time she reached the counter, perked up at the sight of her. He smiled widely at her and Caroline could not help the fluttering inside her stomach when his dimples became really pronounced.

“Hey Caroline! Another latte?” Klaus asked her and Caroline laughed. She felt her cheeks heat up and it appeared he noticed as well because his smirk just got wider. “I have a new coffee that just came in. It is slightly bolder than you like but trust me, its good.”

“I’m bold….I mean, I like bold coffee.” Caroline mentally cursed herself in embarrassment but pushed forward. “I mean, yes. I never turn down more coffee.” Klaus nodded and she watched him work on making her latte. She had seen him do it a thousand times before, but she let herself watch as he worked, openly admiring him. Part of her wanted him to catch her; just to see that knowing smile on his lips again. When he turned back around and handed the cup to her, it was clear that Klaus knew she was watching. “What, no pet name on the cup?” Klaus laughed and picked up the black marker, writing Sweetheart on the cup. “Much better.”

“Let me know what you think.” Klaus leaned against the counter, waiting for her to take a sip. Caroline locked eyes with him and slowly began drinking the latte. It was bold. Typically, Caroline liked to load her lattes up with sugar and massive amounts of whipped cream, but this had a more a dark taste to it. She wasn’t sure if it was Klaus’s gaze, patiently waiting to her opinion or if it was the coffee itself, but she had never tasted anything better in her life.

“This is really good. You are an artist, but with coffee.” Klaus beamed at her, clearly basking in her praise. Caroline lowered the cup and sat it down on the counter. “I did not just come over here for more coffee.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. I wanted to ask you a question.”

“And that is…”

“Would you like to have dinner? With me? Like maybe Friday?” Klaus’s eyes grew wide and he didn’t respond. Caroline’s courage slowly began to fade as he didn’t answer. Embarrassment crept up on her face and she picked up her cup again; accepting his silence for what it was. Rejection. “Yeah. Okay. I’m just going to go-“

“No! Wait. Yes. I would love to have dinner with you.” Klaus stated quickly, stopping her from leaving. Caroline’s face lit up happily, but Klaus still appeared confused. “Sorry, I just was not expecting you to ask. I was under the impression that you had a boyfriend.”

“What? No. I don’t.” Caroline gave him a confused look. “I’m single. Like, very single. Why did you think I had a boyfriend?” This time it was Klaus’s turn to seem embarrassed. His dimples became very pronounced and he looked at her with puppy dog eyes that made Caroline’s heart melt. “What?”

“Months back, around Christmas, I might have asked your friend, the one with the long brown hair who always is in scrubs, if you were seeing anyone. She said you were dating Steven and that it was getting serious.”

“Elena told you I was dating my step-dad?”

“I really hope he isn’t your step-dad. I mean he could be, I guess. A bit young but you never know.” Caroline was still giving him a confused look. “Anyway, the guy that comes in sometimes with your friend. The one with too much hair gel.”

“Stefan?”

“Yes. Him. That’s his name.”

“Elena told you I was dating Stefan?” Klaus nodded and Caroline gave a humorless laugh. “So, you would have asked me out at Christmas if my friend didn’t say that I was in a relationship that I was not in. Oh, she is dead. So, dead.”

“I take it that you’re not in a relationship.” Caroline shook her head. The humor slipped from Klaus’s face and Caroline could see that Elena was never going to get into Klaus’s good books; and frankly she could not blame him. “Why would your friend lie?”

“Because she is deranged apparently. Doesn’t matter because after today I will have a funeral to arrange.” Caroline smiled at him. “Just so we are clear, I have never dated Stefan and will never date Stefan. He is like my brother and I find the idea of him in a romantic sense appalling.”

“Good to know.” The dimples were back, and Klaus’s gaze were fixated on her; that rush of excitement flood her body again. “Although, I typically do not like burying dead bodies on a first date.” Caroline gave him a confused look but then remembered her comments about Elena and laughed. “I save that for the third date at least.”

“Well, I guess I will have to hold on homicide until the third date then.”

“I suppose you will.”

“Perfect.” They exchanged a look; the two of them smiling like fools. Klaus reached over and took her cup from her hands and picked up the black marker again. He jotted down a few digits onto the cup and handed it back to her.

“Here is my number. Text me and we can set up a time for Friday.” Caroline nodded and took her cup back. Happily drinking down the glorious liquid. She turned to walk away but paused, turning back.

“Klaus.” He was still standing there, clearly anticipating watching her walk away. He raised his eyebrow in question and Caroline could see how happy he was that she had asked him out. “If for some reason you ever need to ask a friend about me, regarding anything. Ask Bonnie.”

“Trust me Sweetheart. I will not be making that same mistake again.” Caroline smiled widely and this time she did walk away; only looking over her shoulder once or twice to see if Klaus was still watching. He was.

It was only eight months later that Klaus did go to Bonnie for advice. This time it was over a special ring that he was looking at purchasing

#klaroline #kcbingo2020 #coffee shop au #look I wrote something fluffy #I didn't know I was able to do that

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​​ || Day Eleven: Total Silence ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Hiashi ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Divine Light ] [ AO3 Link ]

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Noise, noise, there’s always only noise.

No matter how many times she tells her father she hates these social gatherings and publicity preening parties, he still strong-arms her into coming. You’d think as an adult herself now she’d finally find the guts to tell him no, but...well, a childhood and teenage years of a controlling parent that forced obedience through a constant threat of removing what you hold dear birthed a fear of that power still lingering after maturity.

...or so she tells herself.

Hinata Hyūga knows she’s mostly just a pushover no matter who it is she’s dealing with. Whether it’s her father, or her cousin, or even her little sister. Making waves and starting arguments just...isn’t in her skillset.

Hence why, more often than not, she ends up at her father’s obnoxious gatherings. His business in the medical technology industry means rubbing all the right elbows. And while Hinata’s choice to pursue journalism isn’t exactly in line with his expectations or standards, he still portrays her in the best light he can...in order to make himself look better.

And through all of that, his company...and its stocks.

For most of her time at these get-togethers, Hinata sticks to the walls, socializing only when necessary and otherwise trying to be as unnoticeable as possible, and evade such interactions in the first place.

But for some reason...tonight is just more than she can handle.

Not only is there music pulsing through speakers, but conversations, laughter, and even some shouting fill the air to a staggering degree. Ugh, she can feel a headache coming on...maybe she’ll just -

“Hinata.”

...wonderful.

Turning to her father, Hinata forces a smile. “Yes?”

“I’ve been talking to a young up-and-comer who would like to speak to you about a possible piece you could write about his company.”

She blinks. “...a piece?”

“Yes, a degree of publicity to help him get things off the ground. Say a few nice words, interview him...that sort of thing.”

Immediately, something in Hinata’s stomach churns. This sounds a lot like a piece of bribery, and that’s the last thing she wants to get herself into. “I...could look into it.”

“He’d like to speak to you now.”

Oh no...no, not now. Not with her head spinning and senses overloading. “I...I’m sorry, I’ve been fighting a headache, and -”

“It will only take a few minutes, Hinata.”

“Could -? Could you give him my email, and I’ll just -”

“No, now.”

The brazen order actually makes her catch herself in a lurch. Her vision is swimming, her skin feels clammy - she has to get out of here, now.

So, without a word, she holds up a hand and just...stumbles forward toward the door.

“Hinata…? Where do you think you’re -?”

For once in her life...she ignores him. With a push, she urges the door open and steps out into the cool air of the city evening. It washes over her like a relieving tide.

But it’s not enough. If she doesn’t move, he’ll just drag her back inside.

So she flees.

Turning to the right, she keeps on down the sidewalk, heels clicking. Thankfully she’s so used to them, even an unsteady gait born of dizziness doesn’t twist her ankles. A few curious passersby give her strange looks, but none make to stop her.

Good.

It’s late enough most other doors are locked and lights out, but by some grace she finds a place alight and open. An old brass handle turns in her hand, letting her into...wherever. At this point, it doesn’t matter. Anywhere is better than there.

Once in, she pushes the portal closed, leaning against it and heaving a weary sigh.

...and then notices something odd.

It’s completely and utterly silent. Such a change from her prior surroundings, her ears begin to ring.

Lifting her head, she takes in the building properly. At first glance, it appears to be nothing more than a second hand or antique shop. The building itself is also old, with crown moulding and rich wooden floors, worn but shining. The smell of old paper permeates the air.

Feeling almost like she’s stepped into another world, Hinata then realizes the door has a glass panel, through which she can be seen. Hefting upright, she moves between rows of shelves to better hide herself from view. And, with nothing else to do, she starts looking through the merchandise.

In truth, it...doesn’t look like much. Random knick knacks, decor, old-fashioned tools and kitchenware. It’s like someone went through every grandmother’s house and looted them, putting whatever they can find into the bins and rows.

It’s...bizarre, and not at all what she expected to find on the same street as the fancy hotel her father almost always rents for his parties. But at least that means it should be one of the last places Hiashi or his goons think to look for her. She walks slowly down the aisle, wondering if something might catch her eye while she’s here.

“...what are you doing?”

Jolting with a gasp, Hinata turns to see she’s no longer alone. At the head of the aisle where she came from, a man about her age eyes her almost suspiciously.

What an odd way to treat a customer, but...well, on second thought, she’s a little overdressed to be shopping for...whatever this stuff is.

“I, um…” How to explain…? “Someone was...following me, so I stepped in. Are...are you open?”

“...yes,” he replies after a pause, clearly weighing her story. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, yes - I’m fine. I’m sure they won’t think to look for me in -” She catches herself, not wanting to be rude. “...here.”

That earns a hint of a snort. “Well...I’m open another half hour, so...stay as long as you like until then.”

“Thank you…” She watches him turn back and vanish from view.

A nagging in the back of her mind sees her follow.

“May I...ask what your store is called? I, um...I m-missed the sign on the way in…”

“Curiosities.”

“...is -? Is that the whole name?”

“Did you expect something more?” he counters, stepping behind a register at the rear of the room.

“I...guess I didn’t know what to expect.”

He leans on his arms, looking her over. “...I find things that are unwanted, and try to find the person who’s meant to want them,” is his cryptic explanation.

“People look for -?” Again she cuts off, realizing she’s...about to be very rude. “...I’m sorry. I’ve, um...I’ve never been to an antique shop before…”

“That’s not exactly what this is, but...a close enough guess.”

Something about his refusal furrows her brow. Is he...hiding something? “How do you find these...curiosities?”

“Most are happenstance. Some I look for specifically. Though those sorts of wares are kept in the back.”

“Because they’re...valuable?”

“To the right people, yes.”

Another pause at his odd reply. “...I should introduce myself,” Hinata then backpedals. “I’m Hinata. Hinata Hyūga.”

“Sasuke Uchiha. And what do you do for a living that’s clearly above the par of a humble shopkeeper?”

His jab makes her go pink. “...I’m, um...I’m a journalist.”

“Hm...you have the air about you. Maybe that’s why you ended up here.”

“...I beg your pardon?”

“It’s Curiosities,” he replies, a grin curling one corner of his mouth. “Only people who are looking for something tend to find their way to my little shop. And journalists are always looking for something. A new story, a new point of intrigue.”

“Well, this...place is rather intriguing,” she agrees, glancing around again.

“One way to put it, yes.”

“As is the man behind the counter.”

His smirk seems to grow, and for a flicker of a moment, as his head tilts, Hinata swears there’s a ruby-red shine to his otherwise dark eyes. “I’d argue that my wares are the true point of interest, but...I can’t deny another’s observations.”

Suddenly, Hinata feels her inner writer coming out. “So...is this a family shop?” she asks casually.

“You could say that. It’s been in the line for quite some time.”

“Anyone else help run it?”

At that, Sasuke seems to hang up for a moment, and an unreadable look passes over his face. “...no, just me.”

“...was that a bad question?”

“No. I...had an elder brother, but...he passed some time ago.”

Shocked sympathy wilts her features. “...I’m so sorry.”

“It’s in the past. Feels like it was centuries ago now, but...well, even old scars can ache.”

She mutes for a long moment. “...seems awfully quiet.”

“Yes, my clientele tends to be...sporadic. Or by appointment.”

“Appointment?”

“People call looking for something in particular, and I...acquire it. We then arrange to meet.”

In spite of herself, Hinata gives a soft laugh. “Sounds suspicious.”

“Any business dealing is, in the right light. But I can assure you, it’s all perfectly legal.” His smile begins to return.

Opening her mouth to speak again, Hinata hesitates as a buzz sounds in the little handbag she’s miraculously kept ahold of. “Oh, sorry...my phone…”

“No apology needed.”

Bringing up her mobile, Hinata grimaces at her father’s name.

“...unwanted conversation?”

“Unwanted lecture,” she sighs, muting it. Guilt and apprehension grow, but...she’ll find some excuse. Her headache is gone, but...well, Hiashi won’t have to know that. “Still, I...should probably be going. It’s getting late, and...I’m doing l-little more than pester you.”

“Pester away. As you said, it’s quiet...a bit of conversation is nice now and again. Perhaps you can do a proper piece about the place another time, since you seem to find it so curious.”

His quip earns a laugh, then a pause. Right...there’s that other piece her father wants her to write.

...she’ll think about that in the morning.

“It was nice to meet you, Sasuke. Um...thanks for letting me hide out in here,” Hinata then offers sheepishly.

“Of course. I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting a gown-clad maiden in tonight, but...you’d be surprised what other sorts of characters I end up with in here.”

“You’ve already sold me on the place, you know,” she replies with a smile. “No need to keep whetting my appetite. I’ll be back.”

“Just being thorough,” he replies, giving a wave as she peers out the door, and then trots back the way she came. “...hm…”

With a trill, a feathery figure alights upon a stand that rests atop the counter.

“Yes, yes...she’s gone. Thank you for behaving yourself.”

A bird of gold and auburn plumage blinks vermillion eyes at him, a small comb of fire flickering along her regal head. But as Sasuke gives it fond strokes, it doesn’t burn him.

“Yet...I wonder…” Looking back to the door, he seems to sink into thought. “It’s very rare we get anyone el’tahl in here. Maybe she has some ven buried in her bloodline, hm?”

In response, the phoenix gives another melodic flow of notes.

“You liked her, did you? Well, that’s all the convincing I need. We’ll have to see how deep she manages to dig when she comes back. But for now, time to call it a night.”

With a snap, the lights extinguish, lock bolting shut at the front. In his hand, an orb of revolving fire lights his way through the back door. Here, objects clearly not meant for unenlightened human eyes glow, spin, float, and hum.

“...how deep, indeed.”

     So this is very late because wow my toothache is...unreal. I’m so sorry, guys. It’s also not what I first envisioned but sometimes characters just veer you off course! I was going to have this be vampire-themed but instead we got...this!      Which is...technically another crossover with a work of my own. DL is mostly a medieval-fantasy sort of world, BUT I do have one story in it so far that’s modern. And Sasuke is being directly crossed with one of the characters, but uh...it’d take a lot to explain and possibly spoil things so we’ll just leave the mystery intact xD      Anyway, I’m...totally exhausted and technically still in pain. Might be going to a dentist tomorrow, no idea, so...I dunno when I’ll get more done since I’m still behind. Thank you for your patience - I WILL finish this event one way or another, it just might be delayed because life things, woo. Buuut on that note, I’ll be heading off. Thanks for reading!

#sasuhinabigflash2020 #shbf2020 #sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #hyūga hiashi #divine light [ au ]

[boogiewrites]

Reports & Repertoire 17: Resentment & Return

Characters: Eddie Brock x Venom x Candace Miller (OFC)

Summary:  Candy tries to find her way about the world after being roofied and hushed by the media. Eddie is hit with a strong dose of karma, and it's two against one.

Warnings/Tags: Angst. Talk of past trauma and drugging. Revenge plots. Violence and threats.

Click on my icon then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. 

On the navy comforter of her queen size bed, sat in the middle of her minimalist white and grey room, Candy sits with her best friend Steph who is currently threatening her if she blinks one more time.

“You act like you’ve never put on eyeliner before.” Steph remarks with her judgment not hidden in her tone or expression.

“It’s different when other people are doing it!” She whines. “The makeup artist at work doesn’t do it as hard as you.” She mutters. “She’s also a lot nicer.” She shoots an accusatory brow her way.

“Well she’s getting paid isn’t she?” Steph smirks.

“Fair point.” Candy responds without nodding her head. “But you love me so you should be nice to me. I’m about to go do some important stuff I need support.” She reaches out and grabs at Steph’s unoccupied hand desperately as she bites her tongue and titters.

“Yeah, that’s what you got Eddie for now.” She snarks and shakes her head. “Speaking of, what does he think about all this?”

“He’s as pissed as I am so he’s down. He’s my backup.” She answers with a sultry lilt.

“I’m sure you are backing it up on that beefy, award-winning journalist.” She teases with a fanciful swipe of her hand. “Tell me. When you two have sex do you both have a press conference afterward to discuss the transaction?” Her face remains without a hint of sarcasm as was her skill set.

“As a matter of fact we do. It’s very productive.” She retorts with sassy. “The copy is good to keep and read later alone.” She grins.

“You fuckin’ nerds.” Steph mumbles and shakes her head. Steph was more skilled when it came to makeup than Candy. So for this undercover mission to the rich tech club where the drugging happened, she was helping her not look like herself.

After the initial turn down of her idea to expose the apparently rampant problem she’d been a victim of, she does what few journalists choose to do and gives away her story to someone else. There was a smaller female journalist who did some excellent work at a small newspaper locally. Candy offered her help to give her some footage, evidence and lend the story and support to the endeavor.

The night for the first recon mission was finally upon them. Eddie sits nervously in the modern and cozy living room, knee bouncing and knuckles white with worry. Venom tries to console him, assuring him they would never let anything happen to Candy. Eddie knows, finding his counterparts attempts at comfort to be failing. Putting his favorite person in danger wasn’t really something he could be talked into being excited about. Not a worst-case scenario by far, but a loudly nagging issue, was having to sit and listen to the men hit on Candy all night and that alone was raising his blood pressure.

Candy had pulled out all the stops when it came to mission from the glasses that had a camera inside and nail polish that reacted to Rohypnol, or Roofies. She had to specially ask for the kick starter to be sent to her before the release with the promise of free advertising after the fact to get it. She reveals her disguise, exiting from her bedroom, Venom slithering around the back of the couch to see her before Eddie. She was in something that looked entirely unlike her. A short and tight black dress, a push-up bra with chicken cutlets and enough makeup to give her flashbacks to middle school cheer competitions.

“How do I look?” she asks with a scrunch of her nose.  It’s usual button shape now straight with the help of Steph’s contouring.

“Not like you.” Eddie remarks with an approving nod.

“A big titty goth girlfriend.” Venom says with no humor or irony and the girls begin to laugh. “Why is this funny? This is what Eddie says. Why are you embarrassed Eddie? Large mammary glands and gothic styling are wonderful things in a girlfriend. She wears black. Like me.” he grins as Edie blushes.

“It’s a...an old internet thing, dude just… don’t go around talking about titties so freely. It’s rude.”

“I did not mean to offend… thought it was a compliment.”

“Good use of slang there, hun.” Candy praises his efforts. “I appreciate both of your thinking I have big tits though. It’s just the bra.” she laughs and shakes as Venom’s grin grows wider.

“Calm down.” Eddie groans.

“We are calm,” he says retracting himself back to Eddie’s shoulder. “Are you ready? We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

“Let’s check the camera first.” Candy says with a clear enthusiasm Eddie did not share.

They run the tests and she learns how to direct her gaze most efficiently. They’d gone over the plan a dozen times. Arrive alone, sit and be bait while Venom lurked on the roof and kept a lookout for her and her victim. They left the house separately, both in taxis that picked them up at places other than her house. She arrived as planned and sat, and waited.

For a girl that looked like her, in a bar like that, it didn’t take long once it was established she was alone. No one recognized her, but she didn’t expect them to, Steph’s contouring really was a miracle worker. She played fun and easy, and it took a few guys, but late enough in the night she finally caught one as she played drunk on top of everything else. She didn’t see the guys who had drugged her before, which was a letdown but anyone who would do this deserved it right?

She talked him up, a trust fund baby who, with his father's money, had a tech start-up. It took no effort on her part to get him talking about his genius and how HE would run Tesla if he had the chance. There were a lot of “Oh my god that’s CRAZY!” and “That’s SOOOO smart.”’s from her but he was so caught up in hearing himself he didn’t notice the soundboard answers as they came from her like a kid hitting buttons on a customized keyboard. With the mere suggestion of her excusing herself and asking him to get her another drink, he was antsy to put his own plan into action. On return, she tested it while distracting him with her chest. A task that proved almost too easy. She fake drank for a while before claiming to feel sleepy and wanting to “get this show on the road” before it got too late.

With a short walk, not even a few blocks down, she knew her alien accomplice was close, slinking in the darkness of the rooftops. The disguised Candy pulls the unsuspecting predator out of the street lamp lit sidewalk and into the dank shadows of the greasy alleyway.

“I  just can’t wait.” she giggles “I don’t want to chance my roommate being in and I want you all to myself.” she coos with a bop of her manicured finger to his nose.

“I mean, your roommate can join in too if she wants.” he offers with a smug smirk.

“Well, the problem is my roommates a dude.” She answers with an upward inflection.

“Ah, red flag much?” he laughs.

“No. He’s my boyfriend… and inhabited by a symbiote.” Her delivery goes flat, sober eyes meet the pursuer turned victim.

“What the fuck? You goth girls are fuckin’ crazy, man. Not even the drugs could come up that shit.” he shakes his head, still laughing.

“No. Really. He’s huge and dangerous and doesn’t like you. You’re a piece of shit who tries to drug women to sleep with them because you're a pathetic excuse for a human who can’t get laid on his own.”

“Wait, what?” he stutters, suddenly standing up straight as Venom drops from the rooftop behind her in an impressive slinking mass. She has to admit, the look of horror on his face did things to her. The sheer terror that only being faced with death could give a dense, self-worshiping asshole like him.

“We’re going to eat you. First that big head of yours...then slurp up your organs like fava beans and then drink your adrenaline glands like a nice  chianti.” His dagger teeth drip with drool, proof of his hunger and intention.

Candy beams with pride for the completion of their plan, stepping back and chuckling quietly at the reference Venom made. The guy doesn’t even have time to scream. There’s not a drop of blood or splatter left of him to find. It’s like it never happened at all.

Candy is left with a deeply satisfied, albeit disturbingly good feeling in her gut. “I’ll see you later, babe.” she whispers and just as quiet as they’d came, they fled.

This continued for a few weeks, the footage of the drugging is stored on an external harddrive Candy kept in her safe. Eddie thought it’d only happen once. But it happened again, twice, three times more before there were articles about mysterious disappearances of the young rich elite in town. Was it the work of the Illuminati some articles asked? She read them with her coffee every Tuesday and smiled knowingly. It pleased Venom. Finally, a human that understood him and his need to kill to eat and protect this planet and its people. But Eddie was more worried than relieved at this point.

—- “You made us stop hunting when we got too much media attention. And now you want to go out and do it again?” Candy could hear the concern for her in Eddie's voice but her own was too strong to heed his warning.

“I wanna find the guy that originally did it to me, Eddie.” Her eyes give away the hurt that’s been fueling her anger as her hands move animatedly while she argues her point. “These are awful people, same as who you get rid of, there’s no reason not to give it one more shot.”

Eddie sighs and puts his hands on his hips, feeling as if he was talking to his old self. “Candy, I don’t want a fight alright? I get why you’re upset and I’d be upset too!” His voice inflected hugger pitched with feeling, “Hell, I AM upset! I get it. I do but ya know you can’t keep pushing it. Your luck will run out… like mine did. You’ll push it just one step too far because of your pride and then boom, it all falls apart.”

“Am I supposed to just let it go what they did to me? To the countless other girls they’ve done it too?” He saw the tears she fought back and his heart hurt for her. He suddenly understood everyone that had tried to warn him of the same thing in the past. It was weird karma to witness.

He sighs and gives her sad and tired eyes, much like the ones she was giving him. “You aren’t… losing by moving on ya know. You can’t win them all, just believe me, babe, please. I’ve BEEN where you are alright? I GET it! I swear I do but you can't fix every wrong out there. You just can’t… I’m sorry.”

“I’m going out tonight. And you’re going to be there. That... I hesitate to call him a person but that asshole will be there who did this to me. I just know it. Let me do it just one more time and I’ll stop okay? Please Eddie?”

He groans and feels Venom wants to give his two cents. He was on Candy's side. But of course, he was, he didn’t grasp the situation fully because he couldn’t, he was damn near indestructible right now and one more buffet of bad guys seemed like it had no downsides when you took into account it meant making Candy happy. And they both wanted that, so desperately. She’d been so much happier since they’d started this after the funk she denied she’d fallen into after the roofie.

“Fine.” He says with more anger. “But just one more time Candy I swear to god, this is the last time I’m helping you do this.” He wags his finger and she doesn’t care. She doesn’t notice. She’d already gotten her way.

—— She had her ritual now she liked to do, the getting ready and primping. The adrenaline rush was enough to get anyone hooked on the feeling. Perhaps it was what made her go against sound advice. Perhaps it was the lack of justice for herself, feeling like a martyr to take on people who seemed untouchable. It was the origin story she’d dreamed of since she was young. A woman wronged, going against the bad guys for the ultimate revenge and winning against the odds. It was everything she’d wanted. And she foolishly thought she could have it.

She was right about one thing. The guy that drugged her was there that night. She and Venom only used this convenient coincidence to shut Eddie up. “It’s a sign!” They’d hissed together.

“It’s a bad idea.” was Eddies defeated reply.

Candy enjoys this one a little too much, a little too true-crime podcast subject for Eddie's liking.

She leads him to the alley with her curves and promises. Her heels giving her no trouble but her wobbly ankles playing like they did all the same to the target.

“You believe in karma?” She proposes, lips so close she could taste the alcohol in the air on his breath.

“Nah, you get what you work for. You gotta step on some toes sometimes to prove you’re the best. If you lose you didn’t try hard enough.” He cockily answered. Something he’d probably picked up from the few interactions he had with him billionaire father growing up. His trust fund was a shield against his own evil deeds.

“That’s a shame. Because I do.” She sighs.

“I don’t think we have to match up on our philosophy 101 ideas, babe.” He chuckles. “Don’t have to have anything in common at all to do what I wanna do to you.” His hands lead to her hips and next thing he knows there’s a knife pressed into his neck. This was new. This wasn’t part of the plan.

Eddie's heartbeat picks up as he sees through Venom's eyes what’s happening. She was in too deep and she was only going to dig herself deeper.

“I’m glad we have one thing in common for what I’m going to do to you.” She snarls, taking her wig and glasses off.

“What the…?!” He says with no fear and only surprise. “Wait aren’t you? Holy shit you again?” He laughs. “So you’re the one doing this little vigilante justice thing. How cute.”

“Cute? You were going to rape me and my friend you fucking disgusting, baby dicked piece of shit.”

“They're onto you sweetie.” He grins. “You can do whatever you want to me but you think killing the brightest minds in the world was a smart idea? Like no one would come looking? You really are stupid.”

“You can call me whatever you want because you’ll be dead and I’ll be able to breathe a little easier knowing one less asshole like you is in this world.”

“Do what you want little girl, but I’m gonna put up a fight you can’t win.” He smirks.

“Doubtful.” Is Venom's response as he appears looking over Candy in the dim and dank alley.

“Good riddance.” She says angrily, putting her wig back on. She continues to mutter curses and name call while her eyes well up with a long-held release that was a long time coming.

“Are you-“

“I’m FINE.” She snaps and wipes at a falling tear. Venom recoils noticeably. “I’ll... see you later.” She rushes out before stomping off.

“Eddie?”

“I know man. She’s just… going through a lot.”

“We are worried.”

“Yeah. We are.”

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

@hardygal69​ @marvelgirl7​ @emerald-bijou @brianaisasongbird​ @vale0413​ @izzy-the-ginger​ @chortletortoise @onomatopoetic-aesthetic @anrm1 @jademox​ @nightcraver​ @venomous-possibiities @tinastarkandco​ @chipster-21​ @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes​ @queenof-wakanda @s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s​ @peakys-mystic​ 

#venom #eddie brock #eddie brock fanfic #venom fanfic #venom fan fic #venom fandom #venom fan fiction #venom fic #tom #eddie brock fic #eddie brock fan fiction #eddie brock x ofc #eddie brock au #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock fan fic

[sharkmobster]

spider verse coffee shop au??

Anon im sorry i wanted to draw the coffeeshop au but ive been so tired lately so imma just overshare about what goes down bc this au is just (thick tombstone voice) : “everybody’s traumatized bitch lets get you a latte”

 • this au is incredibly villain centric bc uhhhhh all i do is think about villains

 • its also very aaron davis centric bc time to project my anxiety onto a grown ass man babey!!

 • anyway this takes place in a normal world where there’s no superheros or avengers or what have you, everyone’s super average 

• like i said this is more or less aaron centric and focuses on him readjusting to society and making connections with other people, and just healing in general. Aaron’s whole deal is that he was wrongfully arrested for defending himself against an off duty cop who was harassing him and ended up with a 10 year sentence  (but was let off a year earlier for good behaviour). He’s got a lot of guilt bc of this if only for the fact that he feels like he let down his brother and Miles (who was a small lad at the time).

 • Fun Fact! Jefferson was the one that picked up Aaron at the jail when he served out his sentence! The ride back to brooklyn was awkward! but also jefferson loves his brother and even tho they’ve had their falling outs he never once stopped believing that his brother was innocent. Jefferson also made sure to pull some strings and ended up getting an apartment set up for Aaron (even though jefferson and rio were 100% down to open their home to him for as long as it took him to get back onto his feet but of course aaron denied them bc he didnt want to be a burden) Aaron’s grateful but he tends to avoid his own family…a lot….

• it’s ridiculously hard to find a job bc nobody wants to hire an ex convict no matter the circumstances and Aaron’s legitimately about to lose hope when he spots an expensive looking shop nestled in between an old arcade and a knick knack shop

 • ‘Vanessa’s Cafe’ is neatly printed above the door in fancy gold lettering. it’s obvious that the owner has serious cash bc the shop looks too damn good and too well maintained to be a regular mom and pop shop. there’s a help wanted sign hastily scribbled on a piece of notebook paper in the middle of the window which is odd since it off sets the professional vibe of the place. But hey it’s worth a shot so Aaron walks in ready to be denied another job only to find the weirdest looking group of people he’s ever seen.

 • The first guy that catches his attention is the very large albino man who looks way too stressed out and manic to be working in a coffeeshop, but the job must pay well because he’s very well dressed.

 • “Liv, for fuck’s sake! Clean your goddamn station!” he’s whisper shouting? Is that even a thing? oh look at that he’s got a full set of razor sharp teeth. huh. that’s a hell of an aesthetic he’s going for.

 • The lady in question isn’t even giving him the time of day, just enthralled by her phone with a smile that looks too peaceful given what’s happening around her. She’s got wild hair tied up messily in a knitted bandana, weird glasses (custom made??) and when she glances up at aaron, her eyes widen in interest like he’s some anomaly to be cracked open. aaron looks anywhere that isnt the wild eyed lady at the counter.

• Theres another big guy that’s hanging around the back, heavily tattooed and lifting stacks of heavy boxes. Aaron takes notice of his prosthetic hand and the tattoo guy takes notice of Aaron. 

• “Lonnie. Customer.” The Tattoo guy seems nonplussed about Aaron and walks into the back. aaron assumes that he’s offended him by staring at his prosthetic for longer than necessary which yeah….yeah he’s probably not happy about the staring. 

 • lonnie’s got a bad case of resting bitch face so he’s glaring at aaron without actually glaring and he’s just rough around ALL the edges so his tones got that nice bite to it as he shouts from across the counter (which is not something you do to a customer but it’s lonnie…..)  "Hey! Ya looking for a job, skinny jeans?!“

 • Aaron blanches at the idea of working with these people but he is absolutely desperate for a job at this point.

 •"Yeah. I just got out of-”

 •"Great, you’re hired! We’re speed running this whole introduction thing, string bean.“

 •and that’s all i got other than like small details like:

 •Peter B Parker owns a ”“’'cafe”“” across from Vanessa’s and its literally just a burger joint that h a p p e n s to sell coffee and Parker will fight you if you call his place a deli ahdhdj

 •Liv and May are dating (big shock) and peter b has to constantly deal with seeing his competition over at his place all the time and it’s yikes

 • Tombstone and Noir will 100% throw hands on contact. They don’t hate each other tho??? Its weird they just like to fight. gives them a chance to work on their banter i guess. Noir works the coffee machine at Peter’s “'cafe”’ so i guess he’s the “”barista”” of the joint but he drinks the coffee more than the customers do

 • Miles and the rest of the spider kids “”“”“"intern”“”“” at the cafe which basically translates to free labor

 •  spider ham works there but he isnt a pig he’s just john mulaney. i know its weird. nobody actually sees him tho so he’s a complete mystery as to what he looks like so he could be john mulaney you never know. the only person who’s seen him is noir and that’s only bc they’re  a thing???

 •oh speaking of everyone being gay:  everyone’s gay

 • Lonnie and Gargan (tombstone and scorpion) are 100% dating but everyone legitimately thinks that the both of them are straight old men despite the fact that they live together, go to work together, hang out afterwards together, and they’re just always together

 • lonnie’s  daughter (janice)  visits every other week (def the product of a divorce he went through years ago) she’s alright with gargan but she’s very distant towards her dad and def has that teen angst phase that she’s going through

 • (lonnie can and will talk to you for hours about how much he loves and supports his daughter despite the fact that their relationship is very estranged)

 • you can find janice hanging out with the cute blond punk girl at that weird burger/coffee place across the street

 • oh gargan’s big and strong despite the fact that he’s missing three limbs, liv works in robotics on the side and constantly tweaks and repairs his prosthetics when they start acting up which leads to them having this weird friendship where they both borrow each other when they need something and dont really expect anything in return (like gargan’s good for getting her supplies and doing heavy lifting when she needs it and liv’s always down to run check ups on gargan)

 • oh yeah liv used to be a scientist but immediately lost her license and phd when she started going above some board members heads to buy less than legal things through super illegal sources

.• that’s another thing, kingpin tends to just hire ex cons and criminals to work in his cafe just bc he believes that a person willing to work hard to better themselves deserves a chance to re enter society again.

 • like they’ve all done bad things but still ended up with a job at the cafe. aaron fought a cop, liv did some shady deals for an illegal experiment, gargan used to run a drug ring years ago due to personal reasons but once he was free from jail he never dealt with the stuff again, and lonnie killed a dude (allegedly. he never went to jail bc they couldn’t prove anything but hey word spread around quick and everyone knew not to go anywhere near this guy)

 • kingpin is in this au btw he’s just……a very depressed man who’s still grieving over his wife and son dying in a car accident

.• he rarely shows up to run the cafe bc its too much for him being in the place that his wife loved and built up from the ground. he used to be the manager after she died but couldn’t handle it and mostly left lonnie to take care of it

• which holy fuck lonnie is trying his best to keep this cafe alive and well and there’s only two other people working there so like its enough to have him scrambling all over the place trying to find more help (thanks aaron)

 •miles doesn’t know aaron’s working at the cafe across the street and aaron def wants it that way bc even tho he’s out of jail he hasn’t actually……visited miles yet….. it’s the shame that’s keeping aaron from reaching out to him which is….sad bc miles doesn’t care what happened he just wants his uncle back.

 • oh oh one more thing RIPeter used to run the deli across the street but had to leave brooklyn to go volunteer at homeless shelters across the states indefinitely so theres no telling when he’ll be back, so he left the cafe under the guidance of pb parker (peter b parker voice: my cafe now)

 •and uhhh thats all i got, like i said this au is just found family trope + the healing we all want + bad people getting redemption which is all the tropes that i love all compacted together in the most cliche au you can imagine!

#itsv #aaron davis #the prowler #liv octavius #doctor octopus #lonnie lincoln #mac gargan #hi i work at a starbucks and it's hell so this is how i cope babey!! #spider verse #spiderman #the life and times of a robot prince

[overwatch-and-others-imagines]

Prompt list: Send in a flower for an AU- Gardenia: Roadtrip AU

-1. Positions in car-

Asra-Nadia-Portia driving, Asra night shift

Portia. are we there yet kid-overexcited

Julian. is pitstop kid

Corners siblings-poor Muriel being shoved into

Lucio. Whining boi in the back, taking up three seats OR If in the passenger seat. CONSTANT MUSIC CHANGING AND TEMP CHANGE.

Nadia would smack his hand

Nadia in the passenger seat. GSP but better, she’s very good at keeping the driver on track

-2. Music-

The original plan for music playlist (Nadia's doing)

Lasts 10 minutes before Lucio ruins it and then it’s a free for all

Portia. Pop (secretly Julian)

Siblings. NSYNC

Muriel. Nature ASMR

Nadia. Bollywood and a few classical pieces

Julian. Set it off, Emo/Punk music

Asra. Jazz (Smooth Jazz)

Lucio. Catchy Pop (that gets stuck in your head and has been played to death), Rap and Metal (When he mad) And he white-boi raps.

-3. Food-

Nadia. Fancy premade stuff

PORTIA. SNACKS EVERYWHERE

Julian. Alcohol

Asra. Water and soft drinks

Lucio. always needs to pee.

Lucio and Nadia. FANCY UP THE ASS

Muriel. Homemade Jerky, is the boi who sets up the mini campfire and camping stove.

-4. Most important item-

Asra. Faust (Magic shit for sleep plus tarot cards)

Nadia. Pieces of Jewellery Lucio gave her to barter away for things and spa kit

Portia. Stuffed animal (Maybe one custom made to look like Pepi) + Midnight snacks

Muriel. Spark cables to jump-start car, multi-tool and general camping gear.

Julian. First aid kit (And medicine)

Lucio. Secretly snuck a plushie and he the money boi.

-5. Sleeping arrangments-

Nadia. Goes full fancy even tho they in a car

Asra. Sleep mask and ear plugs

Portia. Sleeps splayed out, whacks people *cough Julian cough* in her sleep, midnight snacks

Lucio. Sleep curled up with plushie, mutter-in-his-sleep boi, sleeping mask.

Julian. Tries to take up as little space possible, pillow against the window, would always share sleeping seat with Portia

Muriel. Would either stay up for nightshift with Asra or if they stopped for the night, he’d been sleeping outside.

-6. Clothes-

Lucio looks like a designer cloth mess with shades.

Portia. Typical Roadtrip outfit.

Julian would be the same as his sister but dramatic black emo fuck version

Asra and Nadia are both in loose clothing, Asra is more chill, Nadia is more elegant 

Muriel. Practical outfit, Hiking boots and Campers jacket, stuff with lots of pockets.

-7.Prep-

Portia. book of campfire horror stories, Gives Pepi to Mazelinka while she’s gone, packs bags, impractical packer, helps with Julian. Last minute rusher.

Nadia. is the most prepared out of all of them with maps, backup maps, food, gas and water money, Esky/Cooler full of food, Ice and drinks. “Music playlist”, has an alarm for Lucio set an hour before she thinks they need to be ready, he’s still late. Reminders for everything, checklists for daaaaays. Lucio doesn’t prep for shit and leaves it for Nadia, triple asks Nadia about things she’s packed. She pretends to add things he suggests just to shut him up. Is late to leave and start picking everyone up because he can’t pick his clothes

Muriel. least amount of baggage but packs the camping essentials and trusts Inanna to take care of herself.

Asra. just takes his normal grab bag plus tarot cards and sleeping helpers.

Julian. Anxious boi, triple checks with panic, is freaked out he packed the wrong thing until Portia or Mazelinka calms him for, didn’t sleep well the night before. Would have been the one to down from alcohol before they left to help with the nerves.

-8. Extras-

Julian. gets car-sick from nerves but calms after two days. Julian slept at Portia’s so Nadia didn’t have to make 2 trips to grab both siblings.

Asra. gives tarot readings to the group when asked, Lucio asks for a bunch one after another hoping for a different result.

Portia and Asra. takes turns reading out horror stories from her book, Julian is very easily spooked, Asra also tells some original ones.

Faust. squeezes Julian’s arm as much as she can get away with

Whenever they pit-stop somewhere, Muriel disappears to get some alone time to recharge.

Nadia. would go full-face mask spa during her sleep, even going as far to bring a neck massager. Also would have bought the car they were using just for road trips as none of them had a car big enough for all of them already.

#the arcana #The Arcana Game #the arcana imagines #count lucio #julian devorak #portia devorak #nadia satrinava #Asra Alnazar #Muriel (TA) #collab #admin chai #Admin Stray #Headcanon #AU

[alliswell21]

@duckpotatodandelion’s Prompt: “I do love me a coffee shop au.”

Rated T

This was writen last night and edited this morning before I had to run errands, so my apologies for any errors.

Also, since @duckpotatodandelion had that post about hot chocolate, I may have deviated her Prompt a bit... 😳... fine! a bunch... 🙈 don’t tell anyone!!!!

☕️ ☕️ ☕️

I walk into the Starbucks and wrinkle my nose in the first breath. I’m not a coffee person, the dark concoction loosens my stomach for whatever reason, but thanks to my boss, Plutarch Heavensbee, I have around $100 in Starbucks gift cards that only keep piling up for every occasion that requires management to give the employees recognition.

I’m guessing the man thinks coffee shop gift cards are the hip thing to do, and say whatever you want about Plutarch, that man is still trying to stay relevant.

One look at the line and I quickly realize I must be the only soul in this planet that doesn’t care for coffee. I sigh to myself, stepping in line with the rest of the morning rushers, wondering how does the son of a baker could’ve develop such an aversion to coffee, when it’s perhaps the hot drink most served in my father’s shop?

Since I’m number 2002 (fine, that’s an exaggeration on my part) in this line, I decide to spend my time people watching and trying to guess what they do for a living for a bit, it’s not like I can see the menu from where I stand, though the baristas seemed to be pretty proficient at their jobs, dispatching drink after drink like caffeinated fairy godparents.

The first customer in line is a severe looking woman with straight, gray hair that falls into a perfect curtain down to her shoulders; she’s wearing a gray power suit and gray comfortable shoes; when she turns around with her distinctive paper cup in hand I realize her eyes are the same hue of gray as her hair and outfit. It’s like all color has been drain from her. I’m going to call her Madam Monochrome. Or maybe Coin, since she reminds me of silver change. I wonder if she lives down in an underground bunker and only came up to surface because coffee is banned in her secret lair, that would explain the monotone colors. If that’s the case, she must be the president of the underground community, otherwise I don’t see how she was allowed to leave.

Next, is a guy with a wiry frame, ashen skin, balding. His glasses keep sliding down the bridge of his nose, so he pushes them back up with the middle finger of his hand. He’s carrying a laptop briefcase, the padded kind you don’t have to completely open in the TSA line at the airport for the x-ray machines. I’m going to call him Beetee, because that’s what the logo in his case says. He’s probably a genius, working for the next iPod nano device that may fit 3 gigabytes of music into chip as big as a grain of rice. Then again, he could be plotting to overthrow some totalitarian government, by breaking into the TV transmission with well placed anti government propaganda… he’d call them Propos for short, because he doesn’t have time to say the whole word. He’s too busy inventing weapons to chat.

Next, is a man tall, dark and very handsome. The kind women swoon after. I’m sure when he was in high school, girls giggled about him behind their notebooks and commented on how cute he was. He turns his head my way, probably feeling my gaze on him; he only spares me a glance and turns back to stare at the baristas impassively. Good looking Jerk! I bet he’s the military type. Fancy job at some highly rated base, with a huge family that adores him and look up to him. He also looks the type to own hunting gear. He’s probably a sharp shooter too… I can already picture him bringing home a twelve point deer he shot through the neck and a handful of dead, fat rabbits hanging from his belt, he caught in his snares, because what do you know? he’s also a whiz with snares! I should move on from his rigid form. For some reason I don’t think we would ever be friends, him and I. I bet we are total opposites. I’m gonna call him Gale, because he probably has a temper that would wreak havoc, like a strong willed gust of wind.

Behind Gale, there’s a little old lady I’m gonna call Mags, because she looks like she could be a Mags. She seems kind, but there’s something about her face that looks almost like one side is sagging. It saddens me. Maybe she had a stroke at some point, in which case, the mere fact she’s standing in line to get a hot beverage in a busy shop shows her resilience and strength. Good for Mags! I hope she gets to live a hundred more years. She deserves it.

Then, my eyes find two young women. One is blonde and blue eyed, while the other is a brunette with smooth olive skin. Both have matching braids which is strange. Most women don’t wear the same hairdos unless they’re in some kind of play, or maybe they’re twins… there have been cases with twins that physically aren’t even the same race. The two ladies are standing shoulder to shoulder. The blond keeps talking and gesturing with her hands animatedly, while the brunette looks on with rapt attention, nodding and smiling at the blonde. Brunette laughs out loud and I’ve never heard anything as musical as that before.

While pondering on names and imaginary backgrounds for the women, I try to lean on a display of collectible mugs, to disastrous results.

The whole shelf uppends under my weight and sends every single mug careening to the floor with a loud crash, with me, following closely. To say I’m embarrassed would be a gross understatement.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” Asks Blondie, blue eyes dripping with concern. “Your hand is bleeding, sir.” She states looking down at my hand, just as a barista comes to help me up from the floor, where I’m sitting on my ass surrounded by the broken pieces of the mugs I just murdered.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” I say trying to save face.

“Nonsense! Katniss, help me here!” Blondie calls to Brunette who’s looking at me with pity and apprehension.

“Prim…” Brunette sighs more than says, but comes closer all the same, “I don’t think I’ll be that much help. Sorry.” She says locking eyes with me, like she truly is chagrined she can’t help.

“I’m okay, really.” I say finally on my feet. I nod to the Starbucks employee. “I’m sorry about the mess. Talk about a bull in a China shop, right?!”

Brunette fights off a smirk at my self deprecating joke and I swear my heart swells in my chest.

Looking back at the young man helping me, I address him. “You wouldn’t be able to give me a veteran discount to pay for the mugs I broke, would you?”

He just stares at me for a second, “I- I’m not sure, dude. Are you cool? Do you need me to call 911? Your hand has a pretty big gash.”

“I’m a registered nurse, I can help him and take him to my hospital if he needs extra care.” Says Blondie… Prim, Brunette— Katniss— had called her.

“I really am alright—“ I stop talking when I lift my hand and see for myself the gnarly long cut in my hand. It goes from the side of the palm, to right under the thumb, like a jagged smile on the heel of my freaking hand.

I go woozy for a moment, and find myself sitting in a chair with Katniss pressing a cup of water to my good hand. “Drink this. My sister is gonna take good care of you, and then we will drive you to the ER so you can get a note from her boss telling your employer why you’re late.”

“Okay,” I say simply staring at her. She’s got the most amazing gray eyes ever, with specks of blue all over the iris. She’s gorgeous from this close.

“What’s your name?” She asks.

“Peeta Mellark.” I say automatically.

“Hi Peeta Mellark, I’m Katniss Everdeen. What else can you tell me about yourself?”

I think she’s trying to keep me distracted while her sister cleans my cut at the very back of the coffee house, where we can still hear the clinking of ceramic pieces being swept into a dustpan and then chucked into the trash. The silver lining is that they’re taking all my gift cards as payment for the broken cups!

“I’m a painter on a TV production company. I truly am a veteran. Lost my leg somewhere in Iraq. I came in here just for a cup of tea without sugar, how lame is that?”

“I’m sorry about your leg, but thank you for your service.” She says wincing a little. She recovers quickly. “I don’t like coffee either, this is more of Primrose’s addiction. The stuff makes me jittery and jumpy. I’m more of a hot chocolate kind of person.”

“Ditto!” I exclaim. “Dip some chunks of bread into the chocolate for a homier experience, and you’re in hot cocoa heaven!”

“Gotta try that, so much better than coffee!”

“Sure, hate on the drink all you want, but imagine the stories I’m going to tell my grand nephews and nieces about how their grandparents met!” Sing-songs Prim still wiping my hand with some rubbing alcohol infused gauze she apparently carries in her purse. “How romantic will that be?! They met at a coffee shop I dragged grandma Katniss to!”

“Prim…” Katniss mutters half hearted under her breath; both sisters glare at each other for a bit.

I have the distinct feeling this is a conversation they’ve had before and disagree upon.

In and effort to break the siblings staring contest, I dig around my brain for something to say, but instead of wit and charm, I come up with, “What’s your favorite color, Katniss?” Like a fifth grader or something.

She smiles and I feel all warm and tingly inside. “Green. How about yours?”

“Orange. Soft, like a sunset…”

“Mmm! Pretty.” She cocks her head, “What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

“Easy!” I say, “Starbucks microwaves all their pastries! That’s sacrilegious for guy who grew up in a bakery!”

Katniss laughs at that and I hope I can keep her laughing. We keep talking quietly until Primrose declares me ready to go. The cut is mainly superficial, and I won’t need stitches if I keep my injury from re-aggravating.

“So… how can I repay you ladies for the first aid care?” I ask them both smiling.

Primrose opens her mouth with a sly smile, “Take my sister out for a coff—“

“A burger!” Katniss cuts in. “I’ve had enough coffee for the day, but a burger with a chocolate milkshake would be awesome.”

I feel the smile unfurling slowly on my face. “I can do burgers and milkshakes.” I hope Primrose is a good storyteller, my grand babies deserve this story to be told epically.

#duckpotatodandelion #writers block prompts #everlark fanfiction #my fics

[calucadu]

The Riots, a Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Fanfic. Chapter 1.

I hope you like my piece for the @bokunovillainbang! My amazing artist is @pinalinet! Please check them out, they're incredibly talented as well as being an awesome person! They listened to my weird ideas and helped me come up with a decent outline for this fic.

I'll try to have an update every two weeks!! Please look forward to it!

Summary: Bakugou’s a villain who is forced to double as a vigilante to get info on this new group of vigilantes called The Riots. Surprisingly enough, he ends up making friends with them and Bakugou finds himself falling for the leader of The Riots, a redhead with a sunshine smile.

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Jirou Kyouka/Kaminari Denki, sort of Ashido Mina/Sero Hanta

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Sero Hanta, Mina Ashido, Kaminari Denki, Jirou Kyouka. 

Rating: Explicit

CW: NSFW, violence, drug use/abuse/addiction, alcohol use/abuse/addiction, strong language, mentions of vomit/vomiting.

Next chapter (coming soon)

Read on AO3

Or read below the cut

It’s a cool evening. It’s dark out already, even though it’s not that late. Bakugou makes his way over to one of his favourite bars. The reason it’s his favourite isn’t because of the friends he has there, or the memories he’s collected during his life. It’s his favourite because he kind of works there. He’s earned more money there than at the other establishment, and this one is closer to his home.

From the outside, Old Glories looks like a fancy place to have a few drinks with your friends. It’s run by Kurogiri who welcomes you in politely and then offers you a variety of drinks.

Bakugou walks in, like every night, and nods to the bartender, who nods back at him. The blond walks up to the counter and orders a whisky. “Is the boss in?”

“He wants to talk to you.” Kurogiri answers back, placing a clean glass on the counter and throwing in some ice before turning around and grabbing the correct bottle.

“I heard.” Bakugou comments, looking around the regulars and winking at one of the women.

“He’s in a mood today.” The bartender mutters, pouring the whisky into the glass and sliding it over to the blond.

“It’s that bad, huh.” Bakugou chuckles, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a small sip of his drink. It’s strong but good; Kurogiri chose the most expensive whisky. Interesting.

The blond makes his way through the tables towards the private door next to the toilets. He gets his key out and enters the private rooms. To the regular customers and the odd newcomer, Old Glories is just a high-class bar. To the people that are in on the dark business that go on there, it’s a hideout for the League of Villains, of which Bakugou is a respectable member. He’s been a villain since he was fifteen.

The private rooms are no less fancy; with a huge lounge that’s always full of cigar smoke and the smell of expensive liquor and perfume, but the rooms above are even better. Bakugou’s got his own suite, which he seldom uses.

The blond sips on his beverage as he slips into the lounge. He sits on one of the leather sofas, spreading his legs wide and smirking at a few of the women that are hired to do a job he often solicits.

Two of the girls come over and sit next to him; the brunette wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her chest against him.

Dabi smirks at him as when he enters the room. If the blond has learnt anything in all his years as a villain, it’s that that’s never good news. The semi-charred young man strolls leisurely towards the sofa where Bakugou is sitting, but the blond pretends he doesn’t notice when he leans down and chuckles lightly into his ear.

“Boss wants to talk to you now.” The uncharacteristically silky voice almost makes the younger man shudder. It’s either that or the long strands or dark hair tickling his neck. Nevertheless, Bakugou pushes the other man away, replying with a grunt. He gets up, clicking his tongue as his joints pop. Since he’s going to have to face his boss, he decides to get it over with. On his way to his room he passes many of his villain peers. Their dark, dead eyes don’t haunt him anymore; he’s used to it, but he remembers what it was when he was first introduced to the League of Villains. He hadn’t been born a villain. He was scouted back in middle school, because he’d gained a little bit of a reputation for being more than just a prankster.

His name was spoken in fear by both his teachers and classmates. Exaggerated rumours of his endeavours had reached Dabi’s ears and of course the older teen had had to come see what Bakugou could do. And the blond blew his socks off. Quite literally, too, since he showed him exactly what his field of expertise was.

Explosions.

He’d had a passion for blowing things up since he was little, and had worked all his life in perfectionating his signature move, a homemade bomb he liked to call “The Howitzer Impact”. He’d of course been recruited immediately and with him being a naïve teenager, he’d agreed to join a gang of criminals. He was slowly introduced into the low life of crime. It had been petty things at first: a bit of thieving here and there, a fight and maybe a little bit of arson. But that soon escalated into bigger crimes, and before he knew it, Bakugou had killed over a hundred people.

The blond should feel bad he has so much dirty blood on his hands, but he really doesn’t care. It’s not like people matter to him anyway.

On his way to Shigaraki’s private room he passes his apprentice, Himiko Toga. She’s what Dabi calls an evil genius. She had quite literally been born to become a villain. Being the bastard child of two of the higher ups, she’d lived all her life in the League, being treated like any normal villain.

Bakugou thinks she became disturbed when she accidentally witnessed a murder when she was three that had led to her doing some pretty creepy things. When she was four, she slit her first throat. Oh, how proud she made her mummy and daddy.

She’d grown up to believe everything there. When she was ten, she became fascinated with Bakugou. He’s not sure if she genuinely liked him or if she just liked his style, but he took her in as an apprentice, teaching her how to create his homemade explosions. It’s only been a few years but she’s already very close to being better than him. Maybe he should feel admiration, but it borders more on jealousy.

Bakugou arranges his clothes begore going in his boss’ impressive room. It’s far bigger than the others and arranged with much more taste and style. Well, if you don’t count Shigaraki’s weird fascination with hands. He’s got hundreds of hands arranged all over his room, placed as if they’re statues or decoration. Bakugou’s pretty creeped out by them. He thinks – like many others – that they’re real; that they belong to people his boss has killed and decided to stuff them like some sort of trophy.

There are three huge sofas in a semicircle, surrounding a fake fireplace; a huge screen TV over it. It’s currently off, and if Bakugou’s honest, he’s never seen it on. But then again, he’s hardly ever been inside Shigaraki’s room.

The blond patiently waits until his boss motions him to sit, and he seats himself next to him in on the comfortable sofas and waits for the other to tell him why he’s there.

Shigaraki tilts his head, strands of blueish white hair falling over the mask he’s wearing. It’s also shaped like a hand, made to look like it’s severed and rotting. It looks real, at least from a distance. Many have speculated about the idea of it being from the first person he killed. It covers most of his face; leaving only his eyes visible.

“Who’s our enemy, Bakugou?” He asks, his fingers drumming over his crossed legs. The blond already knows his boss’ habit of never being still. He’s got to touch something to feel safe.

“The police.” He answers, watching his boss’ uneven nails drag over the skin of his arms, clawing up and down over the marks he left by doing that over and over until they bled.

“No. The vigilantes.” Shigaraki’s voice’s telling him he will not accept being contradicted. Not this time. They’re silent again.

“And do you know why?”

Bakugou moves his eyes from the blood now slowly oozing out of the new wounds he’s created on his dry skin. His gaze falls on the mask and his boss’ barely concealed eyes.

“No.” He does his best to not make it sound defiant.

“As villains, what we do is illegal. But, vigilantes… they’re illegal too. But they’re fighting the same war as the police, because they’re after us too.” He pauses and gets up, going around his room slowly. Bakugou watches as he paces around the place.

“As villains, we create crime, we create chaos. We want to see the world burn, want to make it burn. We want a shift in power. We want to rule the unrulable.” He continues, turning to look at the blond. He pauses again, as if he’s lost interest in their conversation. He finally focuses his attention back to his guest. “Do you know why I hate vigilantes so much?”

Bakugou just shakes his head.

“The vigilantes were created with the sole purpose of destroying us. I will not give them the satisfaction! We must destroy them first! Make them rue the day they decided to go against the League of Villains!” Shigaraki laughs, turning around and walking in the other direction. He stops in front of one of the hands he likes so much and picks it up, eyeing it carefully. He traces a finger over its knuckles, humming happily.

“There are so many vigilantes now. Like it’s a trend. We need to send a message. You know who we’re going to attack? The ones that started it all.” He weighs the hand statue in his palms before putting it back in its place. He walks back to the couch and lets his weight fall on it. “And do you know how we’re going to do this? We’re going to humiliate them. I want them to not expect us. I want them to think they can trust one of us, I want a villain to go undercover and I want them to gain their trust. They’re all about ideals and morals, so let’s trample all over them.”

He pauses again, tilting his head up slightly so that his gaze is fixed on Bakugou. The blond’s uncomfortable with the way the other is staring at him. Everything about what his boss has said is making him fidget.

“I’ve chosen you. You’re the perfect man for this job. I have full trust in you and your abilities. You’re quick, smart and resourceful, so if anything goes wrong, I know you’ll be able to get out of any tricky situation.”

Bakugou’s mouth flies open. His heart begins to race and he doesn’t know what to ask first. “Wha-what am I supposed to do?”

“Discover everything about them. Befriend them, make them trust you so they tell you their secrets. Let them tell you about every single little wannabe vigilante group out there, any solo vigilante that wants to cross us. We shall obliterate the whole lot of ‘em!” Shigaraki throws his head back and starts laughing maniacally.

Bakugou waits until his boss’ laughter has died down to ask more questions, but before he can open his mouth, the other man’s already spewing hateful and bitter comments about the vigilantes. “They think they’re so great. They think they can be on the other side of the law and still do what’s considered to be good? I piss on their ideals. They’re just as illegal as we are, but they’re seen as heroes. It’s sickening. I want to put them back in their place. I want to wreck them, ruin them. I want them to realise just what they are.”

“Who… just what… who do I have to befriend?”

“Those Riots. You know them? They’re all over the news. They wear colours and masks. I will bring them down. And you, Bakugou, you are my perfect pawn. You will bring them down. You will infiltrate the stupid vigilante group and you will gather as much information as you can. I want to know their names, their real names, where they live, what they do for a living. I need to know where their base is and what info they have on us.” There’s a maddening look in his eyes as he says all of this, and he’s increased the velocity at which he’s scratching at his bleeding wounds.

“You’ve got the wrong man for this job.” Bakugou snarls, trying to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

“On the contrary.” Shigaraki shakes his head, finally leaving his arms alone. “I’ve got other people I trust, but there not as good as you. Twice and Dabi aren’t as smart or as resourceful. I bet you’ll have them fooled in no time, but anyone could see past them. Only you can do this, Bakugou.”

Ground Zero.

It’s a joke.

It’s an inside joke.

Maybe Bakugou would find it funny if he wasn’t being forced to do something he hates.

Ground Zero, the vigilante.

You know, like ground zero, the point on the surface of Earth that’s closest to a detonation.

Bakugou’s pretty sure he’s being treated as a joke.

Like he hasn’t given the organization over eight years of completely controlled explosions.

Yet he has to prove his worth by infiltrating a vigilante group.

Actually, no, he doesn’t need to prove anything. He’s already proved enough since he’s been put on this stupid mission.

Bakugou bitterly thinks that maybe he should’ve never been that good at his job.

 They’ve prepared an attack to a set of buildings to introduce him. Bakugou knows when all of it is going to happen, he just has to make sure he doesn’t get there too early and spoil the plan.

Dressed in the outfit they prepared for him and putting a mask to conceal his identity on, he sets off a little after eight at night, when he knows they’re going to start their usual chaos. He can see the smoke in the air as he approaches the area they attacked. He knows that’s Dabi’s work before he sees the blue flames artificially created by the chemistry genius he’s known for almost ten years.

He hears people screaming and he jumps in, ready to save everyone in need. It feels weird to be on the other side of the chaos, and it almost doesn’t sit well with him.

The blond picks a girl up in his arms and hoists her onto his back before screaming at her to stop yelling so incessantly. She’s terrified, screaming for her brother and the only way Bakugou has of calming her down is by promising he’d find him. Only then does she let up.

He takes her to an ambulance and is quickly looked over by the nurse.

“Another so-called hero, huh?” She mutters as she helps him get the injured girl onto a stretcher.

It’s funny just how wrong she is. Bakugou doesn’t answer. Instead, he runs back into the mess of fire and debris that’s eating the buildings alive. He’s searching for the little boy based on the description the girl gave him. He finds him, crushed under a lot of rubble, with bad burns and bleeding. He holds him tightly as he takes him back to his sister, watching as the life slowly seeps out of him. They don’t reach her in time, and he’s not sure if he’s grateful that the kid died in his arms so that she didn’t get to see him draw his last breath.

He hands the body over to a paramedic, who tries to resuscitate him with no luck. Bakugou’s forced to tell the girl the bad news. When she starts crying, he doesn’t know what to do. For once in his life, his first instinct is to console her, so he pulls her in a tight hug and she just sobs on his shoulder until she pulls away. He tells her to let the paramedics take a look at her and walks off, feeling terrible.

He only manages to walk twenty paces before he empties his stomach. Trembling and with his heart beating erratically, he wipes his mouth with his sleeve and tries to run to one of the buildings still on fire. It’s when he sees them. The Riots. They’re all colour coded, and the blond thinks they look ridiculous, like they’re not even trying to be heroes but they’re posing as if they were, all high and mighty.

Bakugou shakes his feelings off and jumps inside a flaming building. He’s not a fireman, he’s not a policeman, he’s not anyone special, and he’s definitely never done this before. He’s well-built and strong, having been working out for years hoping to get a body he’d be proud of, but he’s never tested his endurance like right now. Before he knows it, he’s being aided by a tall man, dressed in a particularly strange outfit. Bakugou knows it’s one of the Riots and tries to stop himself from snarling whenever he looks at him.

The man next to him smiles brilliantly at him, and greets him with a gentle “need some help moving the rubble?”

“I think someone’s trapped underneath.” Bakugou mutters, trying his hardest to force himself to be somewhat nice since he’s got to gain his trust and infiltrate his group, and he can only do that by being nice.

The man in red is amazingly strong, lifting debris like it weighs nothing. Like Bakugou, he’s wearing a mask to conceal his features, but his is crimson, like the rest of his ridiculous outfit.

Grumbling slightly, the blond starts imitating him, both calling to see if there is actually someone underneath. A weak voice answers them, and the man next to him quickly soothes him and calms him down with expertly practiced words.

This vigilante knows what he’s doing. Bakugou should be impressed, but he isn’t; he knows most of what his group’s been doing has been foiled by this precise man, and that thought makes him snarl.

They manage to save the person that was trapped and they both help take them to the ambulance. They hear familiar sirens which indicate the arrival of the police. The paramedic taking care of the injured person they just brought politely thanks them for their hard work and looks at them with a sad look on her face before warning them that they should leave.

With everything going on the blond feels a little overwhelmed. He knows he should try to talk to the vigilante in red, but his energy is drained, and he doesn’t really want to have to waste what little of it he has left on introducing himself to his enemy. Luckily, the other man does all the work for him. Patting Bakugou’s back and with a smile on his face, the redhead meets him with a friendly tone. “Is this your first day?”

The blond shrugs his shoulders lightly, brushing him off. “Yeah.”

“You did well.”

He almost bites back at the comment. He’d held the dying body of a child and had then had to tell his sister about it. For the first time in his life he felt responsible for someone’s death, which was strange. He’s sure his explosions have caused many, many more, yet the thought of killing anyone has never made him feel like it does right now.

And he’d never before emptied his stomach at the idea.

The redhead must have noticed the change in his face.

“It gets better.” The other man says, trying, for some absurd reason, to lift Bakugou’s spirits. The blond doesn’t need that, he doesn’t need him.

He’s about to leave, just like that woman suggested, when the other pauses, a frown on his face. “Hey… that paramedic is right, we should get going. They don’t like us interfering with ‘their work’. Uhm… wanna… come to ours? Have some tea? Meet the rest of the crew?”

Bakugou just wants to bath and wash the soot away, maybe light a cigarette and let the filthy taste of nicotine take him away, but he knows he can’t pass up this opportunity.

Warily, he nods briefly, and the smile the redhead flashes back at him takes him aback completely. It’s so pure and natural. He’s so used to lips curling up in twisted glee, to voices full of sickening demands and commands; this man’s unadulterated selflessness and joy strike him as odd.

The redhead grips his hand – yes, his bloody, sweaty, cut hand – and guides him through the rubble, chatting amiably about this and the other. Bakugou is so confused he can hardly concentrate on all the jibber jabber. He frowns when the man in red waves at a distant figure all in yellow and hurriedly takes him to it.

“Look! It’s a new vigilante!”

“Sweet!” This new man grins, flashing another sunny smile at Bakugou. “What’s your name?”

“Ground Zero.”

The man in yellow frowns at him, but there’s still a trace of a loopy grin on his face as he does. His blond hair has a dash of black dyed to look like a lightning bolt and he’s wearing a choker and a mask just like his friend’s but in yellow. He’s small and light, so skinny it’s kind of weird. Bakugou’s first impression of him is that he looks stupid and acts like a petulant child.

“I think I’ve heard that term before…” He cocks his head to the side comically, trying to think hard it seems. “I’m Yellow Riot!”

“Oh yeah!” The other turns around to – again – smile effortlessly at Bakugou. “I’m Red Riot! I’m looking forward to working with you in the future.”

“Dude, he’s got to meet the rest of the Riots!”

So Bakugou is dragged along by the big redheaded man as the two Riots chat to each other, as if they hadn’t been spending a large portion of the night rescuing people from burning rubble.

The other people he meets are pretty much as weird as the first two are. They all have matching costumes and masks, but in different colours. A girl with curly, dyed pink hair greets him enthusiastically, almost throwing herself on him. She’s chirpy and energetic, and she seems to get along very well with Red Riot.

The other girl there has a bob haircut, dark with purple highlights. She has big gauges and seems to permanently have a pair of earphones with her. Her tongue is pierced, but he only noticed when she spoke to him. She’s extremely short, to the point that he finds it cute.

Black Riot seems unimpressed by him being there. He’s lanky and has short black hair. Bakugou can’t really think of any other way to describe him.

Red Riot looks amazing next to these extras. He’s big and bulky and very strong. He’s obviously dyed his hair red, but it suits him. It makes his already very bright smile shine brighter, forcing the blond to catch a glimpse of his insanely sharp teeth every time he shoots him a grin.

He doesn’t doubt that the others are strong, but they’re nothing compared to this man. Bakugou doesn’t want to admit it, but his heart does something weird every time he glances at him. He’s just so attractive he finds it hard to look away from him. That and the fact that he seems so positive, so happy. It’s like he’s drawn to him, but he doesn’t want to fight it.

“Us vigilantes need to stick together.” Red Riot says, patting his back strongly before walking forward, leading the way.

“Yeah!” The pink-haired girl screams in agreement.

As they walk to what Bakugou hopes is the vigilantes’ base, the redhead maintains a conversation with him. “The police aren’t doing enough, and the villains’ schemes are escalating. People are dying while the police just turn a blind eye. It’s disgusting.”

“We need all the help we can get.” Pink Riot nods enthusiastically. “I’m happy to see someone else is trying to make the world a better place!”

 Their ‘base’ as they called it looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s big, with walls made out of concrete and sloppily painted over in white. It must have been an old job, since the colour has faded and is mostly grey – it’s that dirty.

Inside the place it’s pretty cold, yet somehow strangely cosy. There are two fake leather couches facing each other in the ample main room, both a boring dark brown. Between the two sofas there’s a glass coffee table, stacked full of a mixture of mugs, games, books and empty wrappers. Bakugou scrunches his nose at the sight but is forced to sit down on one of the settees; Red Riot seating himself next to him.

Purple Riot offers him some coffee and he agrees as politely as he can. He’s a bit spooked out by how friendly they all seem. In his experience, that isn’t a good sign. But he guesses they aren’t like any of the people he’s ever met, and he knows he shouldn’t have his guard up, but he can’t help it.

Pink Riot is trying especially hard to get him to talk, but Red Riot somehow notices how off he looks and asks her to calm down, to give him some space.

“It’s your first time saving someone, isn’t it?” Purple Riot passes him a mug full of coffee and Bakugou nods, tired. She raises an eyebrow as she asks if he smokes.

“Sometimes.”

She grabs the packet of cigarettes from the coffee table and offers it to him but moves it away from his reach when his hand gets close enough to it.

“We can’t smoke inside. Come to the back door with me and I’ll treat you to one.”

Groaning, he lifts himself from the couch and follows her as she leads him to the backdoor. Outside she gestures to the vast open field in front of them and asks him if he finds it nice. He grunts noncommittally and she laughs, putting a fag in her mouth.

“Why’d you try your luck at being a vigilante?” She asks as she hands him the cigarette pack. He grabs one and wraps his lips around it, revelling in the taste of tobacco. It’s been some time, he’ll admit it, but he needs it now more than ever. He doesn’t think he’s ever had a worse day.

“I was… tired of my old life.” Well, it’s not a lie. It’s just not the complete truth, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Tired of being a nobody?” Purple Riot asks, inhaling a long puff from her cigarette.

Bakugou wants to scoff at those words. He’s the best at exploding things, but it’s not like he can say it aloud. “I’m not a nobody.” He ends up telling her instead, a smug smirk on his face. “I’m a great fucking cook.”

“Oh.” She raises an eyebrow again, lowering her cigarette as she speaks. “You a professional chef or something? Should I have seen you on TV?”

He laughs, he genuinely does. She’s an interesting character. It looks like he’ll like more than just her hairstyle and punk rock vibe.

“Those fuckers wish. But no, I ain’t famous. Not really my style.”

“What is your style then? You certainly look like a flashy person.”

“It’ll be annoying to be famous.” He blows smoke out of his mouth, purposely avoiding her face as he does.

“So what do you want out of life?”

“Have you never been tired of your life? Before this, I did the same thing every day. I needed something different, a change. I needed some excitement. Not knowing if I’m going to die or not. Maybe that’s what gets me so pumped up.”

“You’re a strange one.” She smiles, and it seems sincere. Not like she has any reason to doubt him.

“So, what about you? Why are you risking your life?” He finishes his cigarette and throws the butt away.

“I try to forget that last bit.” She says, shaking her head. She inhales again, closing her eyes as she does. “It’s… complicated, but my reasons are more altruistic than yours.”

“You calling me selfish?”

“There’s nothing wrong with your reasoning. In fact, I understand where you come from. You’re young, you’re reckless, I get it. I just don’t think that way.”

“You’d rather kill yourself slowly.” He agrees, smirking. He leans in, looking into her defiant eyes as he steals another cigarette from her. “I kind of get that too.”

“You’re kind of arrogant.” She notes, grabbing another one for herself before finally putting the packet in her pocket. “I don’t dislike it, though.”

They’re silent for a while, and he tries to get rid of this strange new sensation that has developed since he started this conversation with her. He hums as he slowly drinks his coffee and smokes.

“How was your first day?” She asks, turning to look at him again.

“I threw up.”

“Huh.”

“Whatcha mean ‘huh’?”

“Nothing. Just found it funny.”

“Found what funny?”

“So did Yellow Riot. And Red Riot, but he’s got a weak stomach, so he doesn’t really count.”

“Someone died in my arms. I would think that’s a normal response.”

“The same happened with Red Riot on his first day.”

“And… Yellow Riot? God these names are stupid. Am I supposed to talk about you like this?”

“For now, yes. It’s only until we’re comfortable having you around.”

“So, it’s a sort of test.”

“I guess it is.”

“Anyway! Yellow Riot. Why’d he vomit?”

“He saw a lot of blood. He’s not good with blood.”

“Why’s he a vigilante then?”

“To impress the ladies. His words, not mine.”

“Oh.” Bakugou finishes his cigarette and smirks, catching something in her eyes. “You like him.”

“He’s a close friend of mine.”

“You like him as more than a friend.”

She raises both her eyebrows this time, but there’s a playful smirk on her face as she shakes her head.

“Does he know?” Bakugou asks, strangely interested in these people he barely knows. Maybe it’s because of that.

Before she can answer – and he was sure it was going to get interesting – Yellow Riot opens the back door and walks towards them.

“Gimme a smoke.” He says, spreading his hand out. She rolls her eyes but places the packet in his palm. “Thanks. So, what’re talkin’ ‘bout?”

“About how he’s a daredevil.” She responds casually, a smirk on her face as she eyes Bakugou, awaiting his reaction. “And how I like that about him.”

He knows she’s playing a game, and that he’s being used as a pawn, but he finds it interesting.

“What?” Yellow Riot sounds unimpressed, obviously unaware of their plan. “So that’s why you’re into this vigilante thing? You get off on the idea of dying or something?”

“Sort of.” Bakugou mutters, playing along.

“Wow. And I thought I was into some kinky shit.”

“You are into some kinky shit.” She sighs, rolling her eyes.

“And you don’t know the half of it!” He beams.

They’re silent again, and by the look of things, Purple Riot doesn’t like that it’s turned out like this. She goes back to openly eyeing him up and down, smirking as she does.

“You’re really handsome. Anyone ever tell you that?” She says. It takes Bakugou a lot to not spit the coffee straight into her face when he hears her words, but instead he calmly answers her, grinning arrogantly.

“I get it a lot.” He leans forwards a bit and makes sure not to break eye contact, no matter how interested he is in watching how Yellow Riot reacts.

“Oh, cocky, too. I like that.” She comes closer to him, and they’re barely inches apart. He licks his lower lip slowly, putting on as much of a show as he can.

Yellow Riot clears his throat awkwardly and puts the cigarette out. “I… I gotta go. See you.” He turns and heads for the door, unaware that he’s being watched.

Once the door’s closed behind him, she sighs, dejected. “He still won’t do anything!” She groans, leaning away from him.

“You do something about it then.” Bakugou snorts, rolling his eyes and finishing his coffee. “Or what, you want to be wooed by him or something?”

“No, I just… I’m not convinced he likes me. But you were a great help. And that was a lot of fun, too.” She leans in again and whispers a word in his ear. “Jirou.”

She smiles at him as she leans back and turns around, skipping happily towards the door.

“What?”

“My name!” She yells at him, opening the backdoor and entering the building again.

Bakugou sighs, and his smile finally wears off. He remembers who he is and what his mission is. But he can’t deny he had fun playing around with them.

It’s weird, he’s never experienced anything like that before. All his interactions had been with cokeheads or people drunk on crime and money. It feels weird to actually be talking to normal humans.

He shakes his head, trying to get rid of how strange it is. He’s about to head back when he hears the door open again, but this time Red Riot comes out.

The redhead walks over to where he is and smiles at him.

Bakugou blames the adrenaline. He blames how that day has made him weak, because the ample grin on the man makes his heart stop for like a second. And that can’t be real.

There’s no way.

“How’re you doing?” The man asks him.

“I don’t know.” And he’s not lying. It’s a lot of information to take in, a lot of new people and things.

“My first day was really rough.” Red Riot says, looking off into the distance, his expression unreadable. “Someone died in my arms. A man, about forty years old. He asked me to find his wife and tell her he loved her.”

Bakugou’s silent as he watches the other, his gaze on the stars in the sky.

“I’ll never forget that moment. I’ll never forget anything about everyone I wasn’t able to save. But… I’ll never stop doing this. I like giving people a second chance at life. I’m sad when I can’t give them that.”

“What… what happened with that man? Did you tell his wife?”

Red Riot turns around to look at him, and there’s a deep sadness in his eyes.

“I tried. I went to the police when I could. I tried asking for his name, even explained why I needed to know. No luck. I personally never got to inform the wife. I just hope someone I’d told got to tell her.”

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou mumbles, his gaze turning to the floor.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too. I wish I’d done more.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done. You did your best.”

“My best wasn’t enough. Thanks, anyway. I just wanted to tell you that… first days are rough, but I hope it doesn’t discourage you. It’s worth it.”

“Someone died in my arms today, too.”

Red Riot does something he wasn’t expecting him to do, and he feels warm hands bring him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” The man whispers, cuddling him.

Bakugou doesn’t pull back. He can’t. It feels nice to be embraced, especially after the day he’s had. Plus, who knows how long it’s been since he was last hugged. He feels tears threaten to burst out of him, but he stops them with his will. There’s no way he’s going to cry in front of this complete stranger.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Let it out if you need.” Red Riot cradles him, rubbing his back soothingly.

The only thing the blond can think is how the fuck are they in that situation and why doesn’t he will his body to move away from the other man.

#kiribaku #bakushima #big bang #my fanfiction #my writing #the riots #red riot #kirishima #bakugou

[poore-choice-of-words]

Nightingale & Peregrine Chapter 6

Whoo! It’s been awhile. But hopefully chapter seven wil come sooner than this one. Enjoy!

First, Last

...

He was late. Luckily, most people didn’t go to ice cream at one in the afternoon. Scratch that. A lot of people went to ice cream in the afternoon, unluckily. That was why there weren’t any parking spaces. He was sure his running speed to get there was better than his record in highschool, not that it was much of a record, but still.

This was the second time in as many days he’d literally bumped into Mandie.

“Hi.” he heaved a breath. “Fancy seeing.” Heave. “You here.” Heave. “Sorry I bumped in.” Heave. “To you.”

Helena was glaring at him, and was that laughter Mandie was suppressing?

“Hi.” She said, from behind a hand.

Definitely suppressing laughter.

“Hi,” He replied.

“You already said that.”

“Did I?”

Helena nodded. Moses decided to lift himself up so he was face to face with Mandie instead.

“Nonetheless, I insist upon buying both of you your Ice Cream as pardon for my transgression.” He bowed so that once again he was at eye-level with Helena.

“I accept your offer.” Mandie offered him a hand to get back up with, which he gladly took.

Helena looked skeptical.

“Think she suspects anything?” He whispered.

“Only what you just confirmed.” Mandie said.

Helena was squinting at him.

He bent down to be at eye-level her. These squats were going to help him work off that ice cream.

“I’m not gonna lie to you. I asked for you two to come here. I’m paying for your ice cream whether you like it or not. Then you can kick me out of the store.” He put his hand out for a shake.

Helena shook it, then pointed at her eyes and back at him.

“Gotcha.” He nodded for a bit before standing up. “Is this line ever going to move?”

“Lend me your arm?” Mandie asked. There was mischief in the tone that Moses ignored.

“Here you go.” He offered an elbow.

Mandie grabbed his wrist and leaned back, taking his arm, and nearly taking him, with her. He caught on quickly enough to hold his ground, otherwise he would’ve fallen on Mandie, and Helena might’ve kicked him out before they even got in the store.

They held themselves like that for a few moments, until she lifted herself up, making him stumble back. Then he noticed they were now holding hands. She was wearing gloves again, white silk, or some imitation. It was quite soft against his skin, and the gloves didn’t cover past her wrist, which he had been grasping onto while she’d been hanging.

He quickly released, realizing he’d had skin contact with her for more than a second and didn’t learn every one of her thoughts in his head for any amount of that time.

“How?” he looked at his hand. From the corner of his eye, Mandie seemed betrayed? Was that the word?

“There seems to be a couple, or a pair of siblings gumming up the line.”

“Do you always do that lean back thing?” He turned to Helena, “Does she always do that leanback thing?”

Helena shrugged.

“It’s not uncommon,” Mandie answered.

“Can you give a heads-up next time?”

“What makes you so sure we’re ever going to end up in a line together again?”

“Maybe it’s just a hope.”

Mandie half-smiled, then went into a straight face. Did she suddenly dislike him? Why had she come then? Was free ice-cream that irresistible an offer? Of course it was, it was ice cream.

“I’m getting the sense you don’t want to end up in a line together anytime soon. Would that be a warranted assumption?”

Mandie pulled her ponytail in front of her and began stroking it.

“What are you doing here, in town?”

He should have thought of an excuse before now. He was frozen for long enough that no matter what he said, she wouldn’t believe. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“I’m working for a secret organization to capture Nightingale, and I’m using you in an attempt to learn her secret identity.”

Mandie looked hurt, and scared, betrayed, that was the word.

“I swear that was a joke! I’m sorry. Has that actually happened before?”

“You wouldn’t be the first operative to fail at seducing Amanda Piec,” Spectrum commented in his head. He hoped it was just a memory and not the real Spectrum.

Back in the real world, the real Mandie looked at him with pity, and possibly laughter. Had he been played?

“I’ve actually been doing temp work for... a lot of places.” He was great at making excuses.

Mandie finally outright smiled. She bought it, or she didn’t care.

“Maybe I should call your company sometime. I could use some help.”

“With what?”

“I’ve always got packages that need delivering. I actually had to make a stop to send a package before we got here.”

Helena made a thumbs-down motion and a pouty face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means she doesn’t like waiting in the car.” Mandie turned her head. “Oh look, the line’s moved.”

She grabbed Helena’s hand and moved forward. The line kept steadily moving forward since apparently everyone had now figured out exactly what they were going to have. Moses should’ve thought about it. He was sure he didn’t want chocolate because chocolate was the worst ice cream flavor, except for maybe grape, but that wasn’t an ice cream flavor, yet.

“Why didn’t you want to hold my hand?” Mandie asked.

“What?”

“This isn’t middle school, and I thought you…”

She was right. This wasn’t middle school. If this were middle school, he’d be rushing into stuttered apologies. Instead, he waited a moment before stuttered apologies.

“It’s, uhh.”

Helena smacked his leg. He looked down at her, and she pointed at the counter, where the guy at the counter looked weary.

“Oh, sorry!”

…

They managed to get their ice cream, Helena hadn’t told Moses to scram, and Mandie asked to sit outside.

Overall things were looking okay.

“So you design for Nightingale?” He couldn’t think of a better question to start the ball rolling.

Mandie had an expression that said she was tired of that question, but ready to oblige an answer.

“I design for the entire Heroes’ Guild, but since we live in the same city, yes, Nightingale is my most common in-person customer.”

There were so many questions Moses could ask about Nightingale, but that was just the thing. He was talking to Mandie right now, not Nightingale. He needed to ask a question more about Mandie.

“Why white?”

That was still a Nightingale question, but it was also a Mandie question.

“It’s what she wore that first night.”

“First night?”

“Nightingale was Nightingale before I made the costume, and the first night she saved was in a white tank-top and a pair of jeans.”

“Seriously?”

“Still amazing, I assure you.”

“I don’t doubt it. You don’t wear white all the time without skill.”

Jeans? what made her switch to a skirt?

“Yeah, she has skill. She’s… perfect.”

Nightingale wasn’t the best conversation subject. She seemed to leave Mandie with longing. Moses stored the skirt question for later.

“Not that I doubt your skills, but why you?”

“What?”

Was she offended? Moses was screwed.

“Why of all the people in the world did Nightingale ask you to make the costume, or did you volunteer.”

“Well, most people who know me know I make my own clothes.”

Moses took a moment to look at Mandie’s outfit, a light pink dress with blue and purple flowers that looked embroidered onto the skirt.

“You made that?”

She nodded.

“Wow.”

“I make clothes for superheroes, and the dress get’s a wow.” Mandie was sarcastic, but she was also smiling.

“Yes! Most people don’t fully process big stuff, but this dress is right in front of me, and it’s beautiful by the way.”

“You don’t need to exaggerate for me.”

“I’m not, did you hand embroider the skirt or…?”

“I use a special machine, but I did design it.”

“See? I need to ask you for style tips.”

“I think you clean up well enough.”

Moses didn’t have a response. Mandie had cornered him in compliment combat.

“Thanks.”

He could feel himself blush. Maybe he wouldn’t seduce Mandie, but if he kept this up, she’d manage it on him.

…

Maybe Moses should have asked if Nightingale had any tips for superheroes just starting out. The closest he’d seen Nightingale to being tied up like this was when he was pointing a cane at her neck.

The worst part wasn’t that the chains were definitely power suppressant, which meant these thugs had a bigger budget than he initially thought. The worst part was that he probably wasn’t going to get Nightingale’s trust to help her if he couldn’t even help himself.

“Looks like someone fancies himself a superhero,” said thug number one, in what sounded like a very fake british accent.

“Looks like someone fancies himself a Beatle,” Moses retorted, getting a punch from the nearest thug for the comment.

“Maybe he just fancies one hero in particular.” They all had that probably fake accent, he knew because they all laughed in the accent too.

“You got me, I wanted to see Black Dragon, but I think I got the wrong town. Do you have a local hero associated with a particular neutral color?”

Thug number one was about to hit him again, when a familiar sultry voice interrupted.

“Now, Anders, that’ll make it much harder to get out on good behavior this time.”

Moses squinted in an attempt to find her in the rafters. Either she was behind him, or the suppressant was messing with his ability to see her.

“Who said I'm going to jail again, Katie?”

Katie? How did this minor crook know Nightingale's name.

“Nobody, because they don't have to.”

So maybe she hadn't been flirting with him as Ace of Spades, not that he thought she had. She just seemed to have a way of talking to her enemies, a way that could be interpreted a flirtatious.

“Is it my turn to comment?” Moses asked, “cause it sounded like you just got owned.”

No response, even a single laugh.

“Start struggling if you can fight.” He heard in the back of his head. The voice sounded like Mandie plus the voice in the back of his head that he never listened to. He was going to listen to it this time. 

His struggling looked more like trying to spin in mid-air than proper struggling, but hopefully the point got across to Nightingale, if she was the one he'd heard.

After a few excruciating seconds while Anders kept talking, he felt something hit his hand. He grabbed it, and felt the ridges of a key’s teeth. He felt for the lock with both his hands as Nightingale came down to the ground.

She took off the skirt to reveal an equally white pair of pants. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't that. The deployed skirt, which now looked more like a blanket, took two of the thugs out, pinning them to a wall.

He managed to get the key in the lock and turn it. He had to struggle a bit more to get out, but when he did, he punched the nearest thug, who glared at him.

Maybe that wasn't the best method. The next time he punched, he pushed at the thugs mind to knock him out.

“Don't use that on Anders, I need him awake.”

“Why?”

“Focus.”

She sounded irritable.

The next thug came running at Moses. He turned out of the way and pushed them to the wall. They looked back at him afterwards and attacked. He felt a pressure that the thug definitely felt more of since it pushed them into the wall again, this time knocking them out.

“Show off.” He said, aloud.

Nightingale glared, although the masked covered her eyes in dark lenses, which meant he couldn’t actually tell if she was glaring, but there was a feeling.

“Did I accidentally interfere in a lovers quarrel?” Anders asked.

“We’re not lovers,” Nightingale said.

“And who said we were quarreling?”

They both took a step towards Anders. Nightingale was closer, but Moses opted against closing the gap between her and himself.

“What do you want to know?” Anders grumbled, without the accent this time.

“I need some information on Ace of Spades.”

So Anders was a snitch, probably a good one, if snitches could be good.

“Word is the guy used to run with the suits.”

“As in the four suits?”

So Nightingale knew who they were. Moses was almost flattered. He wasn’t sure if he felt more or less flattered that she seemed to flinch when Anders responded.

“Yeah, then the guy disappears for half-a-year and comes back with the suit and cane.”

He was gone for six months? It hadn’t felt that long, it felt longer.

“And that’s all you got?” Nightingale asked, bringing Moses back to reality.

Anders shrugged. “The guy’s new--wait, some people are saying he’s a reincarnate of Inferno.”

“Dante Gionelli?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“The guy with a house full of booby traps?” Moses asked.

“Do I need to repeat myself to you?”

Moses turned to Nightingale. “I don’t think he likes me.”

“Go figure.” She turned to Anders. “Nothing else?”

“Come back when he’s been around for more than a month and maybe I’ll have something. This guy is different.”

Nightingale seemed to stew for a moment.

“Fine.”

…

Moses had followed Nightingale to the roof. Since she hadn’t stopped him, he assumed she didn’t want him gone. At least not yet.

“I don’t really plan on leaving so--”

“What’s your code name?” She asked.

“My what?”

“Call sign, title, superhero name. What is it?”

Before thinking about it, Moses admitted, “I never thought about it until this moment.”

“Take your time.”

He didn’t take much. Truly he’d been thinking about this for awhile, and one corny name remained.

“Do you mind if I spin off of you a little, I mean, I’m starting in your town, but I don’t wanna encr--”

“Go right ahead.”

“Alright, since you’re a Nightingale, heard but rarely seen, then I’ll be a Peregrine, fast and fearsome.”

Nightingale laughed.

“I’m sorry, it was just, so dramatic.”

Peregrine couldn’t help but smile at managing to make her laugh.

“If you’re going to stick around you’ll need a costume.” She switched to business.

Moses looked at his current outfit.

“A good costume.”

“Now that’s just mean.”

Nightingale smirked.

“Give me your measurements next time we talk.”

“When will that be?”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

“I can be.”

“Good.”

She walked away, about to jump onto the next roof.

“Where are we going to meet?” Moses asked just before she leapt.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you.”

...

Tag List:  @lynn-iswriting, @kaylewiswrites, @taz-writes, @theshadowsofthenight, @merigreenleaf, @lady-redshield-writes, @concealeddarkness13, @authorisada, @cadewrites, @elizabethwillow, @writing-in-mermish, @royalbounties

#oc: amanda piec #oc: helena casborough #oc: moses casborough #wip: nightingale & peregrine #Moses gets to narrate a fight scene #Peregrine is revealed #everything's exciting #moses doesn't know what a boon this is to him

[theashemarie]

Demo Brew Ch. 1 | Pearlina

☆ Reblogs appreciated! ☆

↪Chapter 2: [The Squid Sisters]

↪Chapter 3: [The Song]

Read one chapter ahead on AO3!

[It starts as a simple bet--Pearl's attempt to prove to her father that she can work a minimum wage job like anyone else. It quickly becomes anything but simple. A web of secrets, a music opportunity, and a chance at love--what could go wrong?]

[The coffee shop AU has always been a favorite trope of mine, so I decided to just go for it. Plus, I love putting my own spin on these things--domesticity and small, meaningful moments are my bread and butter. So, this fic is the culmination of everything I love.

I flubbed the timeline a little in this, but that's mostly to do with the timing of the entrances of certain characters. This story still takes place in the world of Splatoon--there's just a little bit of a timing change, and Callie and Marie enjoy secrets more. As a result, I've tried to follow a bit of the inkling/octoling anatomy (mostly the inclusion of three hearts and the avoidance of any reference to bones). Just a heads up.]

Chapter 1: The Bet

Here’s the deal: Pearl got this job to make a point. Her father said, “You wouldn’t last one week in a dead-end, minimum wage job,” and Pearl, competitive and aggressive to a fault said, “WANNA BET!!” in a voice that was all capital letters and begged more than one exclamation point. So, she trotted her little ass to the nearest over-priced coffeeshop and applied, right there, on the spot. The owner, Callie, hired her immediately, because she liked her fighting spirit and wanted a cut of Pearl’s hundred thousand gold winnings if she pulled it off.

That was two months ago.

Pearl doesn’t know why she stayed. (That’s a lie. She stayed because Callie needed her. With Marie off to Calamari County to care for their aged (“Not decrepit!” Cap’n Cuttlefish declared as Marie guided him out over six weeks ago) grandfather until such a time as he stopped trying to get into the sewers (don’t ask), Callie was down half her staff. Pearl stayed because Callie gave her the sad eyes, the big ones that looked like a sunset on the ocean.) Her father upped the ante—an extra fifty thousand gold for every week she stayed—but she doesn’t need the money. Not really. Her allowance is building steadily in her account and she still lives at home, where her every need is taken care of. She doesn’t take Callie’s money because she doesn’t need it, so she’s working for free. “Volunteer work,” Callie assures her, “it looks good on your resume.”

Fresh Start is a small place, with only a handful of tables and no to-go window. There’s exactly two people who work there—Callie and Marie, co-owners and cousins, who somehow had enough money to open a coffeeshop in the middle of Inkopolis Plaza, the richest area of the city. There’s a decently sized pastry case and their sweets rotate every day of the week so you can never get the same thing two days in a row. Their savory offerings are mostly sandwiches, though Callie is looking into learning how to make flatbread pizzas. Callie handles most of the paperwork while Marie seems to enjoy working the counter, especially the fancy espresso machine. Overall, it’s a small place, a blip on most people’s morning and evening commutes, but there’s something about the familiar, friendly atmosphere and staff that keeps people coming back.

Pearl beginning to think that this is a distraction. Her father doesn’t approve of her sudden swerve into the punk scene, mostly because he doesn’t like to see his little princess wearing so much black, but she isn’t just going to drop that for some stressful job. Sure, Callie is great to work with, but the customers can be awful, especially because they’re smack in the middle of Inkopolis Plaza, where all the fifteen-year-olds obsessed with sports come after turf wars. You don’t know true brats until you’re face to face with a sweaty fifteen-year-old who has to have their latte with exactly two and a half pumps of sweetener in it, and Pearl is the queen of brats so she can say that.

So yeah, the punk gig. She still does it. Late at night, when her dad is out of town usually. She’s twenty-years-old and still sneaking out of the house. The irony isn’t lost on her.

This is all to say, Pearl is ready to jump ship as soon as she can. The second Marie steps foot back into the store, she’s peaceing out and collecting her check from the International Bank of Dad, splitting it with Callie (because she’s not about to renege on that deal), and never looking back. The world needs to hear her music, and, really, she just wants to scream into a mic at the pit of night. Is that too much to ask?

Then, predictably, things change. Marina walks in, and Pearl finds herself returning to the shop, even after Marie has given up on keeping their grandfather out of the sewer (don’t ask).

Pearl realizes that she’s in love with Marina about two days after meeting her. It isn’t a surprise. She falls in love a lot—with hips and large, gentle hands and sleep-heavy limbs and bright, alive eyes and long legs and long hair and short hair and sometimes even with a laugh. She isn’t picky. She falls in love with pieces of people all the time. The most recent one, a fling of a relationship on the road with her band, was a girl who loved human fashion; Pearl fell in love with the way she wore her old-fashioned hats, cocked to one side, tentacles cut short into a bob. She really liked the bob. She might have copied the bob.

Of course, relationships with pieces of people never work out. But, Pearl always reasons, she’s young, she’s wild, she’s got piercings, and she’s disappointing her father with her screamy music. Her bandmates don’t get along and it seems like they’re sick of her, but she doesn’t let that get her down; typical punk stuff, she’s assured herself. She’s going through a phase where she’s allowed to only love fractions of individuals. It’s not healthy, but she’s coping, more than anything, with broken hearts. She always has at least one broken heart.

Until, of course, Marina walks in, orders her coffee from Marie with a soft, accented voice, and Pearl has to try very hard to keep her eyes in her head.

“That’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” Pearl hisses to Marie, as she turns to froth up some milk for a latte. “Do you know her?”

“Her name’s Marina,” Marie answers, uninterested, in her own world. She’s always like that—like she’s far away, thinking about some other reality, some other world. Calamari County or something. Man, these country people.

“You actually know her?” Pearl demands.

Marie smiles then, a small thing, and holds up the paper cup, treating Pearl to her slanted handwriting—Marina.

“Oh,” Pearl says, and sounds just as foolish as she feels. “What’d she order?”

“Green tea latte. You can go talk to her, y’know. I won’t tell Mom.”

She’s talking about Callie, who has a strict no flirting policy after an unfortunate incident involving Marie and a dare—chain flirting for tips, which Pearl let her keep, just because she actually did it; she even flirted with the tiny horseshoe crab that owns the weapon shop. Pearl swore he was thisclose to hiding in his shell. It was especially hilarious because Pearl knows that Marie is like her—she falls for girls, sometimes boys, but mostly, Marie maintains, she loves food. Pearl can respect that.

“But, she’s so...” Pearl glances in Marina’s direction. She’s standing at the pickup counter, scrolling through her phone. She’s got on an oversized sweatshirt and tight leggings with boots that Pearl immediately wants for her own wardrobe. She also has large, expensive headphones over her ears. But, most notable is her hair. It’s so different from what she’s used to seeing in the plaza, where being fresh means having one of two haircuts. And it moves so fluidly, like a silk sheet being spread over a bed.

“She’s so...?” Marie prompts.

“She’s so... out of my league!” Pearl moans, modulating her tone so that she can’t be heard over the percolating coffee pot. It comes out as a low whine.

Marie glances back at Marina and then back to Pearl, at her dark, but designer clothes, and her pink-tinged bob, and then at her boots. “If you say so,” she says, and then turns to slide the latte across the counter. “Marina, this one’s yours.”

The first time Pearl gets up the nerve to talk to Marina, the Squid Sisters are playing over the radio, which gives her the opening she wants. Marina always has those headphones, so she has to know her stuff about music—and anybody who’s anybody knows the Squid Sisters.

The greatest mystery of Inkopolis, the Squid Sisters are the most secretive musical act that’s ever hit the mainstream idol scene. They cover their faces at performances and don’t appear on television, which really makes Pearl wonder sometimes. What if she’s passed them on the street? The smoke and mirrors make them even more of a commodity, and then they drop music without warning, as if they exist outside of the laws of record labels. Pearl is something of a fangirl, but everyone is. The Squid Sisters have it all—adoring fans, lots of gigs, and anonymity. Pearl doesn’t quite understand it; she wants to be adored, wants to crowd surf, wants to be approached on the street for autographs, but she can respect the desire to be left alone.

“Turn that off,” Callie says from the back room. She’s never been a huge Squid Sisters fan. But then, she doesn’t seem to like music much on the whole. She and Marie never sing, never dance, just keep their heads down and make coffee. Pearl has been trying to shake them out of it, but they’re both stubborn in their own way.

“No, leave it,” Marie says from where she’s spreading cream cheese on a bagel for someone. She’s got that smirk, the one that she always wears when Callie starts in on the Squid Sisters. “I like this song.”

Callie makes a loud sigh. “Of course you do.”

Fresh Start is mildly busy right now, probably because it’s near lunch, so Pearl is taking orders. Not her favorite job, but it beats making the coffee. And, this way, she can duck into the back if Marina ever shows.

It makes her uneasy, how unsteady Marina makes her feel. Usually, she’s great at this. She makes girls swoon with a bright, sharp smile, and then makes them fall for her with a well-placed hand and simple pickup line. But Marina? She’s scared to talk to her. It’s not normal, and Pearl doesn’t like.

But, also, she’s determined to see her again, at least once, before she quits and returns to her gilded castle of wealth. (There’s always an “I want to see her again” after she sees her again. It’s a never-ending cycle.)

Except, today, when Marina walks in, jangles the bell, Marie refuses to trade Pearl jobs. The Squid Sisters are singing “City of Color” over the speakers and Marie is grinning at her like a shark. “I’m perfectly comfortable right here,” she says, and turns the blender on so Pearl can’t beg further.

“Callie...!” Pearl tries, but then Marina is there, right in front of her. She has on a beanie today, so her headphones are around her neck, and Pearl can see how well-loved they are, just by how discolored the cushioning is.

“I’m up to my elbows in cookie dough! You’re on your own!” Callie yells back. Behind her, she hears Marie snort.

“Hello...?” Marina says, unaware of the power play occurring behind the counter. Pearl forces herself to smile.

“Hi!” she chirps, voice incredibly high-pitched and slightly panicked. There goes her hard-punk exterior. “H-how can I help you?”

Marina hums as she looks up at the menu. She gets something different every day, as if she’s cycling through the whole menu before picking something she really likes. Her finger comes up to tap her bottom lip, which really is unfair. Pearl has to force herself to swallow.

“Iced coffee, please. No sweetener.”

“Iced coffee!” Pearl yells, not because that’s what they do here but because she’s panicked. Marina is so... so pretty... and regal and—and—and...

Okay, so maybe Pearl is a lost cause.

“I heard her,” Marie mumbles from behind her. Above them, the song changes from “City of Color” to “Ink Me Up.” Callie appears, mysteriously free of cookie dough, and goes for the radio.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she declares.

“Oh, please leave it,” Marina calls, looking past Pearl and to Callie. When Pearl, Callie, and Marie all turn to look at her, she fidgets, pulls her hat tighter over her head. “Sorry, it’s just... The Squid Sisters changed my life.”

From anyone else, that would have sounded dramatic, but Marina says it without a single ounce of irony. She looks down at her hands, with their long turquoise tips.

“No problem,” Callie pipes, suddenly back to her happy, chipper, non-Squid Sister self.

“I’m very glad,” Marie puts in, as she appears beside Pearl with an iced coffee in her hands. “I’m very glad that the Squid Sisters helped you.”

Marina doesn’t say anything, merely takes the coffee with a small smile on her face. “How much...?” she asks.

“On the house,” Callie says, and she disappears back into the back room.

After the Great Zapfish goes missing, Callie and Marie leave to care for their grandfather. Something about his weak hearts. They leave Pearl in charge, and she promptly closes the store for half its hours, because there’s no way she can run this place by herself.

She does okay, all told. She considers asking for her father’s help, but she doesn’t want him buying her out of this problem. She needs to figure it out.

Mostly, that involves thanking people for their patience, because she not only has to handle the money, but make the coffee, clean the tables, and wash the dishes. Callie insisted on using real plates and cups unless the drinks were to-go, which left Pearl with large stacks of mugs in the sink at the end of every hour. She’s dealing with it.

Marina appears every day that week, and every time she asks after Callie and Marie. Pearl answers honestly—“I have no idea where they are or when they’re coming back!”—and Marina tries her hardest not to laugh at Pearl’s anxious, out of control energy. They even have real conversations, which is a step up from Pearl’s lovestruck sputterings of a few weeks ago.

“So, what do you do?” Pearl asks today, as she scoops ice into a cup for a frappe.

“...do...?” Marina asks, as if she’s unsure of the word, feeling the sound of it in her mouth.

“Y’know, like for a job?”

“Oh!” Marina laughs at herself, and it’s possibly the cutest thing Pearl’s ever heard. She has to try very hard not to grin stupidly. “I work in retail.” She gestures out the window, in the direction of the Galleria and its overpriced shops. “On the weekends, I’m an indie producer. I do a lot of remixes. I’m working on some Squid Sisters now.”

Pearl feels like she’s been struck by lightning. “You do what? No way! I’m in a band! I knew you were into music!”

“What’s your band called? Maybe I’ve heard of you.”

“Doubt it.” Pearl slams the blender closed and turns it on. They stare at each other for a few seconds as it does its work. “It’s punk,” she continues when it’s done. “Probably not your style.”

Marina shrugs. “Can’t know until I listen. Will you bring me a sample?”

Her eyes are so bright and excited. Pearl can’t feel two of her hearts, they’re pounding so hard. “Yeah,” she says, “I will!”

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #pearlina #ashe talks #ashe writes #demo brew

[douxreviews]

The Magicians - ‘The 4-1-1′ Review

Alice: "How does it feel?" Quentin: "Like I helped it wake up and remember what it was before."

“The 4-1-1” finally reveals what I think we all knew, Leslie Knope was (and is always) right: not only are librarians evil, but they’ve been evil since basically the dawn of time! And also some other stuff happened.

Some of that other stuff includes Alice and Quentin being forced to be alone together. On a quest to find out how to form an incorporate bond to use on the bottles the Monster will be sucked into when Margo expels him with the Ice Axes, Quentin has to time-travel so he can ask a coherent version of Mayakovsky for the spell. Quentin switches his consciousness with past Quentin; he wakes up under Past-Alice and Present-Alice comes face to face with a very horny Past-Quentin. Instead of being funny (although it is of course sometimes funny) the whole thing is really sad. Both Quentin and Alice learn there’s really no way for things to go back to the way they were. Even if Quentin and Alice worked through their issues, they still wouldn’t have the same relationship as they did at Brakebills South when everything was new and maybe scary and very, very horny; things happened and they can’t unhappen. Quentin can use his discipline(!) to repair small objects, but Quentin and Alice’s relationship troubles aren’t the least bit small and may be impossible to fully repair.

Back at their fancy stolen apartment, Julia, Penny 23, and Margo try to figure out The Binder and succeed. The Binder the Person comes out of the book, ready to tell them everything in weird third person narration, and then Hymen’s match-making gets in the way. Hymen (the astral-projected pervert from the 1920s) wants Julia and Penny 23 to drop all this Monster-Goddess-Library stuff and to just be together. He tells them that they’re always sacrificing themselves for everyone else and this could be their one chance at happiness. So when The Binder finally tells them what’s up and that Julia can either become a goddess or go back to being human, Julia wants to seriously consider the human option.

Hymen is kind of right. Not only did Julia give up all her power to (painfully) restore magic for everyone, but for much of the season she’s been setting her quest to figure out her state of goddesshood aside to help with the Monster and only really went back to it when they felt like they were out of options and could really use a goddess on their side. And not only do we know Pennys’ are prone to sacrifice from Penny 40 (who died helping Kady and Julia by default), but this Penny (23) has shown himself prone to sacrifice when he volunteered to be the Monster’s psychic after seeing the last one die. And of course if they keep putting their needs aside for the group they will be unlikely to be happy and maybe even to survive another season. Human’s need a bit of selfishness (or self-preservation as Fogg would say) to survive and thrive. 

But it’s also hard to be selfish when you’re an empathetic person in a world constantly on the verge of destruction. Goddess Julia could be great help with the Monster. And, now that they know Iris, Bacchus, Aengus, and Heka were librarians who became gods by killing the Monster’s sister and Kady and Zelda know Everett plans to do the same, they could really use an all-powerful Goddess Julia. There may never be a convenient time for Julia and Penny 23 (and any of the character’s on The Magicians) to practice selfishness or self-preservation. And, in the end, none of that really matters anyway because the Monster steals Julia away to use her body to revive his long-lost sister. So everything’s coming to a sad, terrifying, exciting head.

Bits and Pieces

-- Back in Fillory, Josh, Fen, and Pickwick learn that something’s up with the underground magic reservoir. Also they play Fillory’s version of hop-scotch to try to fix it. The whole thing is adorable and hilarious and I love learning about Fillorian history and customs.

-- Fogg may be the only character on The Magicians who’s almost always selfish (and fairly useless). He sends his student (Kady) off to the world that killed his other student (Penny 23), using the excuse that the Library’s been really on him lately. His “self-preservation” may be what allowed him to live as long as he did, but it’s also what makes him a huge... jerk.

-- I’m glad (and not surprised) to see Fen and Josh aren’t cool with torture of any kind. And I’m not at all surprised to see that Pickwick is.

-- I’m torn between wanting Julia to become a goddess again because it would be cool and wanting her to be human again so she can feel and live with her friends and stay on the show.

-- In the Library is fascist: the Brakebills students aren’t allowed to learn cloaking because then the Library couldn’t keep tabs on them.

-- Margo calls the Foremost the “foreskin.” I think it’s more fitting.

Margo to Alice when she suggests the incorporate bond: “Thank you, I don’t know what that is but I hate you less now.”

Fen: “We used to sing it while playing bearskip. It’s a children’s game sort of like Fillorian hopscotch.” Josh: “Involving bears?” Fen: “Ideally skipping them!”

Mayakovsky: “I’ve seen back to the future. What, you want to fuck your mother in past?” Quentin: “No.” Mayakovsky: “Why? She not attractive?”

Margo: “You can thank my uterus later.”

Alice: “There’s not enough magic for the geese to make it [to Brakebills South]. Found that out the hard way.” Margo: “Rest in peace, first-years.” The Magicians: where even the throwaway lines are impossibly dark.

Three and a half out of four shady, evil, power-hungry librarians.

Ariel Williams

#The Magicians #Quentin Coldwater #Alice Quinn #Margo Hanson #Eliot Waugh #Julia Wicker #The Magicians Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews

[theyrejustadream-away]

Soulmate!Jimin

Park Jimin; fluff

Happy late birthday Jimin! We love you! 

Word count: 1769

Alright yall welcome to my first official bullet scenario

Let’s see how this goes

Ok anyways

It’s Jimin’s birthday and I wanna do something special for him

I hope he gets better,, i know it isn’t serious but still

And the whole soulmate AU is something i love wholeheartedly and i want to write one

Let’s get it (imagine jungkook saying that)

So Jimin’s a junior in college

Jimin is pretty well known on campus for his dancing and although he isn’t as outgoing or social as Taehyung or Jungkook, he still is pretty popular

Mainly because he’s hot but

So being a junior, he basically knows most of the “secrets” on campus

Like where to hang out, study, eat breakfast, you name it and he’ll tell you

Oh yeah he’s such a sweetheart

Will walk you to where you need to go if it’s dark out

Carries your books if you look like you’re about to drop them

The whole “prince charming” deal, it’s understandable if hordes of girls chase after him

Who wouldnt, right?

Welp with the creation of the Soulmate System, it sorta gets rid of the idea of unnecessary crushes

Which seems sad BUT it reduces heartbreak and all the sad stuff that comes from failed relationships

So the way it works is that everyone has a black rectangle on the inside of their left wrist

And everytime they speak to their soulmate, the rectangle gets lighter and lighter until you can read the name

Of course there are flaws and your soulmate might have a different person on their wrist or you just never end up meeting them

But we aren’t gonna talk about that, this is going to be a happy one!!

Back to Jimin

As i was saying, he always knows what places to hit up

And of course, the only way to know this is if he goes there himself

One day, he finished his last class of the day and stepped outside only to get hit with a strong gust of wind and a sudden chill

Its F A L L

Which means cafes!! Warm drinks!! Sweaters!!

Once he composes himself and fixes his hair, he starts wandering through the city surrounding his college

After drifting from place to place, he finally spots a small coffee shop that’s hidden by a fancy department store

Like it’s literally right next to the store but it’s so minimalistic that you just dont really notice it

But he does!!

So he goes in and he’s just met with warmth and soft piano melodies coming from above and the smell of something sweet in the oven and he just melts

This is exactly what he needs

Walking up to the counter, he looks at the menu and decides to get something simple

Because if this place cant make a good cappuccino then it fails in his eyes

Speaking of eyes

As he was collecting his change from the cashier, you just happened to walk in for your shift

And boy did his heart do a weird thing in his chest and he just couldnt take his eyes off of you

Honestly you were just in your uniform (white button down, navy apron, dark pants, hair up) and not in the best of moods because you may or may not have forgotten to turn on the alarm and was late for your first class

Always double check your alarms friends

Basically you were just not looking your best at the moment

But did Jimin think that?

N O PE

The poor boy almost left his wallet at the counter because he just couldnt stop looking at you

Although that may sound creepy at first, it was more of a ‘who is this angel in front of me’ stare with eyes bright and shining to the point where it was just endearing

That didnt stop the person behind him from coughing and letting him know that there is a full line right behind him ohmygod jimIN MOVE

You, on the other hand, didn’t notice a thing and went to your station where you made drinks and call out people’s names and all that jazz

He picked a seat near the back of the cafe after he ordered, where he had a view of everything

And by everything, i mean you

“She’s so pretty wow i want to talk to her but what if she thinks im weird??? What would i even say? How would i eve-”

“Jimin? Your order is ready”

“Ohmygod she said my name what do i do??”

“Jimin? Is there a Jimin here?”

“Ye-Yes!”

His voice cracks and he feels his face heat up

Gone is the charming and confident Jimin

Hello to the shy and clumsy Jimin

The poor boy almost spills his drink because he’s nervous and his voice already cracked and you’re giggling

Bless your soul for trying to hide it behind your hand and spare him the embarrassment

But you laughing isn’t helping because now he’s even more red and thinking ‘wow your laugh is so cute can you literally get any more adorable’

“Does coffee make you this nervous?”

“No, it’s the cute girl giving it to me”

He’s thankful that he didn’t embarrass himself anymore and somewhat recovered

Because now you’re the blushing one (he’s still a little pink from before but he decided he enjoys seeing you flustered more than anything)

Eventually he had to leave because wow it’s late and he still has homework to do

So he sadly walks out, taking a glance at where you were working but you were busy with another customer so you didn’t see him look at you

BUT he comes back almost everyday just to see you

It does a number on his wallet but hey, who needs money when you’re in college, right?

I’m kidding being a college kid is so expensive ohmygod

Everytime he comes by, he always tries to make you blush or laugh

Maybe at the same time

He just wants to get to know you better because you’re a really sweet person and he has this urge to hold your hand or hug you or kiss you but he pushes it down

At the same time, the mark on the inside of his wrist has been getting lighter and lighter

He can faintly make out the name hidden and he oh so desperately wants it to be you

You, on the other hand, could read the name on your wrist

Guess what?

It says Jimin!

You were so happy the day you found out

And when you saw him the next day you were just !!!!!!!

But he didn’t say anything about it.. Not even a small hint to let you know he knew

So you were confused

Did he just not like you in that way?

Or even worse

What if you weren’t his soulmate?

You confided in your best friend once you got back home after seeing him

“He didn’t even mention the mark? What if it isn’t my name?”

“Does he know your name?”

“..I think he does?”

“Wait how are you not sure??? Haven’t you guys been talking for a month now?”

A few days passed and Jimin still doesnt know your name

But his wrist says ‘Y/N’ and he can’t remember anyone with that name

So he decides that today is the day he’ll ask you for your name

Because he’s also worried that he isnt your soulmate

You knew his name already, and if he was destined to be yours why hadn’t you told him?

Did you not like him?

He kept stressing over it for hours on end and his roommate finally told him to go out and ask

Although it was just to stop Jimin from pacing around their shared dorm and making his roommate dizzy from all his sudden movements

And being Jimin, he dresses up and styles his hair

To be honest, if you hadn’t already fallen for him then you definitely did when he walked through the doors

“If your man taking you out on a date, he looks hOT”

“Jackson shut up i swear i’m going to spill hot coffee on yo- hi Jimin!”

It all goes according to plan at first

He hasn’t embarrassed himself or had his voice crack

He goes and waits near you, and since there weren’t many customers you could talk to him without having another cranky customer yell at you

looking at you, old man who came in and ordered hot water. who even does that what it wrong with you

You were still a little upset that he hadn’t mentioned anything about his mark

But you acted as if nothing was wrong

So when he just says “What’s your name?” without even saying hi, your heart sort of knew what was going to happen before you did

It started beating faster and a smile was threatening to show but before you did anything dumb, you answered

“y/n… why?”

And he gives the brightest smile, like the Sun can fight me because Jimin’s smile outshines it in this very moment

“Because I think you’re meant to be mine”

Cue the various aww’s coming from your coworkers and that sweet old couple who’s been shipping the both of you ever since Jimin brought you a lily he saw on his way that ‘reminded him of you’

Jackson also starts screaming a little and jumping because finally you two pieced it altogether

Jackson knew ever since you asked him about your whole dilemma because once you took a sick day and he ended up talking to Jimin

And coincidentally saw Jimin’s wrist and went :D

But he couldn’t say anything because he wanted the both of you to reach that conclusion on your own

Still, it was really obvious that there was something there

Back to Jimin and you,,

As soon as he said that you ran around the counter and tackled him in a huge hug

Jimin didn’t see that coming but he caught you in time and he sort of stumbled back but who cares because ohmygod he finally gets to hug you

This is all he’s been dreaming of

He feels so warm and soft and smells a little like peppermint and you can hear his heart beating just as fast and yours and his whole body is shaking with laughter because he really can’t do anything other than smile and laugh

He’s hugging you tightly and everything felt right in the world

Jimin found his other half and you found yours too!

hope you enjoyed <3

#park jimin #bts #jimin #bts jimin #bts fluff #jimin fluff #bullet scenario #fluff #soulmate au #love yourself #FIRST ONE ON THE NEW ACCOUNT #ESKETIT