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mydear-corinthian · 26 days

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A Peaky Blinder || Shelby Family x reader

Synopsis: You encountering an assaulter while drinking on the Garrison pub. Pairing: Shelby Family x sister! reader (except for Finn & Ada) Warnings: sexual assault, gun violence, mentions of blood, and swearing Notes: Not proofread, there are some grammatical errors Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

This week feels like hell.

Loads of men barging in the shop, betting and betting like there was no tomorrow. As the accountant of the family and the business, it felt like hell.

A drink would help you stress down after a week of non-stop working. The trip to the family's tavern, the Garrison, was simple-- taking a short route there instead of the long way.

You opened the doors of the Garrison, immediately sitting down on the counter. You sat down, taking a deep sigh.

"Hello, (y/n). What drink do you want?" Harry, the bartender, asked you as soon as he saw you sitting down.

"It's alright, Harry. I'll get it," you replied, grabbing the big glass of bottle filled with your family's most famous drink, Gin, behind the counter's cupboard in front of you.

You opened the lid, tossing it at the side of the table, chugging the drink down.

"Rough week, innit?" Harry asked, wiping the unused glasses.

"Very rough week, Harry," you replied, taking a deep sigh.

"Why would people risk betting their money for a what? A race? It's funny but hey, who am I to judge? At least they're helping us work the business out."

The talk with you and Harry kept on going until both of your heads turned, looking at the doors after hearing them open harshly.

Three men entered the tavern. Dirty suits, hats on, and cigarettes designing their lips.

They walked up to the counter just beside you as they started to state their order.

"3 glasses of whiskey for us," you heard one of them order.

You just went on with your drink, Harry muttering an 'excuse me' to you before he was out of your sight, giving the 3 gentlemen their order.

"Slow down, love," you heard one of them.

You turned your head to them and tilted. "Sorry?"

"I said slow down drinking. You're too pretty to drink this whole bottle of yours to yourself.. and too pretty to be a whore either," he commented, looking up and down at you, licking his lips slowly.

He just called you a whore.

"What did you just call me, sir?" you asked in disbelief. You got up slowly, crossing your arms together, looking up at him.

"Ah, I get it. You're a feisty one, eh? A feisty whore.. I like it." he chuckled, his finger tracing your cheeks and then your curves.

"Fuck off, prick,"

Encounters like this in the Garrison were unfortunately normal. Weird, uncomfortable men doing this to women every day.

It was indeed normal but you can't help but be disappointed and sad for the women. Getting treated like this by men.

"Don't you fucking touch me," you shouted, slapping his hand off you.

You felt a hand gripping your jaw, your body pressed up on the counter. "How about I fuck you on this counter? Let these men watch us?" he whispered in your ear, his hand grabbing your hips harshly.

Mentally, you want to grab your gun and shoot him, on his groin, specifically.

and why not do it?

You turned your body, now facing him. A smile formed on your face. Your hands roam around his face and down there. Your hand cupped his manhood earning him a soft moan.

"Sir, I want to do something here.." you innocently said, your eyes meeting his and licking your lips slowly.

"Go on, love. Do it," he replied, and his two other friends laughed.

Your other hand was free, you used this opportunity to grab the small gun on your small bag and immediately fired his groin.

You let go of your hands on his right away. Blood is painted on your palm. You laughed, laughed at the sight in front of you.

The feeling of victory sprawled all over you. Finally putting men like him into their proper places and what they deserve.

He screamed in pain, cussing you out with all the swear words he knows.

Your brothers, except Finn and your older sister, Ada, rushed out of their small compartment just near the counter, guns in their hands.

You heard your older brother shout, "What the fuck is going on here!?"

Polly was with them, she looked at you and the man, she immediately knew what happened and she couldn't help but paint her face with a smirk.

"This whore shot my dick!" the man replied angrily, pressing his manhood, giving it pressure to avoid more blood coming out of it while his free hand was on your dress, gripping it near your neck.

Your brother's facial expression changed into disbelief when they heard the man calling you, their sister, a whore. Tommy inspected the man by looking at him up and down, mentally planning on how to take him down.

John scoffed in disbelief too, he grabbed his gun from his breast pocket immediately and pointed it directly at the man who assaulted you. He, then, harshly asked him, "Are you calling my sister a whore?"

Hearing John's question made your assaulter's eye widen in fear and appalled. He knew he fucked up. He knew he was going to get harshly beaten up-- or worse, die.

"Sister? I-I didn't know she was your sister, Mr. S-Shelby." he stammered. His head shaking violently, begging for forgiveness for what he did to you.

Rolling your eyes, you slapped his face. "Great. Now you respect me because I'm a Shelby and not because I'm a woman, and put the gun down, John. I'll handle this, it's my issue."

"We're here for backup, (y/n), alright?" Arthur commented.

You sighed, your gun still in your hand.

"Look, mister. What you did pissed me off and did not help me calm down after an exhausting fucking week but since I want to show mercy, you are lucky. You are free to go."

The 2 men ran away straightly to the tavern's doors, exiting the bar in no time. Your injured assaulter bowed his head many times and muttered a 'thank you' while limply running to the exit.

"Get out of my bar now, my mercy expires in 10 seconds," you said, massaging your temples out of stressfulness.

The man was still inside the Garrison after 10 seconds but he was already close to the exit, still limping.

You shot the floor, just near his legs. He ran faster until he was finally outside of the bar.

You laughed again at the sight. You turned the safety lock of your gun again before bringing it back inside of your black purse.

You heard slow claps coming from your brothers and your aunt. They walked toward you while clapping.

"Handled it like a true Peaky Blinder. I'm proud of 'ya, sis." your oldest brother congratulated you. Put his arm over the back of your shoulders and gave you a side hug.

Polly cupped both of your cheeks, caressing it with her finger slowly. "I'm proud of you, (y/n). Your mother would be so proud of you." She smiled lovingly. She cannot contain her happiness after what you did.

"Wait- you said you had a stressful week? Is it because of the overtime at the betting shop?" John interrupted, recalling what you said earlier and made him ask you about it.

You nodded in response, "Yeah. There were a lot of customers and being an accountant isn't easy, y'know?"

Tommy inhaled his half-full cigarette while listening to the conversation. He doesn't want to see his sister being stressed because of work so he planned on giving you a paid leave. "If it's like that then you can leave for a while and be back once you're good. Michael can be our accountant until you come back."

You shook your head, rejecting his offer. "It's alright, Tommy. I can handle it but is it okay if I'll just work on half-days instead of full days?"

"If that's want you want then it's fine with me," Tommy answered.

THE END

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #polly gray

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rea-grimm · 3 months

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Sleep protector Luffy

"You look awful, what happened to you?" a friend asked you when you met at a coffee shop. It's been almost a year since you last saw each other. She hadn't changed at all, while you were almost unrecognizable.

You had giant circles under your eyes and your whole body looked like a giant painting that someone had painted using red, blue, yellow and purple. You wore so many bruises that you lost count.

You had the impression that you were cursed. Bad luck was sticking to your heels, and you also suffered from nightmares that kept you awake.

You thought slipping on a banana peel was just a TV joke. That is until you did it yourself. You had no idea how many times you tripped or were almost struck by lightning, or forgot your umbrella in the biggest downpour.

It was the little things that you wouldn't mind if they weren't happening to you 24/7. What irritated you the most was when people told you not to worry about it, that it would get better if you slept. As if it were possible. Every time you fell asleep, you found yourself in an even worse nightmare than before.

Initially, you didn't want to discuss this with your friend, because it was quite possible that you wouldn't see her again for a year or so. You wanted to enjoy this day with her.

But you couldn't hide anything from her either, and you confided everything to her under her pressure. Also about the fact that you slowly began to fall into depression.

After this, your friend gave you a small gift bag. She wanted to give it to you anyway. She also had a similar one at home, and as soon as she bought it, all the bad dreams disappeared. Plus, when she saw this one, she remembered you and just had to get it for you.

After coffee, you spent almost the rest of the day together. When you said goodbye, you returned home, where you could finally calmly look at the bag you had received.

You opened it and inside was a teddy bear. He had black fur, a red vest, blue shorts and a straw hat on his head. He was cute and soft to the touch.

You didn't believe much in talismans and charms, but you took a stuffed animal to bed with you. After a long time, you fell asleep without any problems almost immediately.

It was an even bigger but pleasant shock in the morning when you woke up full of energy and without any nightmares. You couldn't even remember the last time you slept this well.

You didn't believe it, but it had to be true. Ever since you got the teddy bear, the nightmares have slowly faded away. You were always saved from them by a young man wearing the same outfit as the teddy bear.

He easily defeated all your nightmares and with a carefree smile, he then took your hand and led you into the unknown for an adventure. Be it sea battles, an island of giants or an island full of meat. He always managed to come up with some stupid thing by pure chance that ended up being good and you still laughed.

Thanks to that, you looked forward more and more to sleep and what new things you will do. You were especially looking forward to seeing him because he exuded a cheerful energy that was very contagious. You had the impression that even if he was only in a dream, he could recharge your batteries like no one else.

Since then, your mood has improved and your bad luck has disappeared. You would never believe that a good night's sleep could solve all your problems.

Even your bad luck suddenly disappeared. Instead, you found money here and there, you won, for example, some little thing for free, people were nicer to you, everything started to go well for you, and things turned out better than you expected. You never expected to experience such a turn for the better.

You were in the mood for some quick food, maybe a burger or something, and you headed into town. You went to the chosen establishment and ordered food. While you were waiting, you noticed a young man at the counter who reminded you of a teddy bear.

The young man was getting upset because he wanted to order a lot of food, but apparently, he didn't have enough money to pay. Despite all this, he did not give up.

You felt quite sorry for him, so you decided to buy him food. You went over to him and paid for him. It's already happened to you several times that they blocked your card out of nowhere, so you couldn't pay, so you wanted to make him happy.

"You're the best! Thank you very much!" the young man in the straw hat was beaming with enthusiasm and before you knew it, he was hugging you. This moment felt very familiar to you, but you couldn't remember from where. You just smiled and waved it off that it was a small thing.

You originally thought you'd grab your food and head home, but you were so captivated by his cheerfulness that you decided to stay. You ate your meal together. You had already eaten your portion while he was still stuffing himself.

After the meal, he took you to see his friends. You were glad about that because you didn't have many friends or they lived far away. That's why you sometimes felt alone. He saved you from that loneliness and after eating, you went to his group.

You originally wanted to go home after eating, but something just pulled you towards him. All his friends accepted you and you were with them until the evening. You probably never laughed so well and you even felt a little sorry when you said goodbye to them.

When you finally got home, you were tired, but at the same time filled with positive energy that you didn't want to go to bed yet. You made yourself a warm drink and sat down on the couch with plans to watch a nice movie.

You prepared everything when you had the impression that something was missing. You got up and went to the bedroom where you wanted to take the teddy bear with you. Maybe it was childish, but you wanted him with you.

You went into the bedroom but you didn't see him anywhere. You looked under the duvet, the pillow and even under the bed, but he was nowhere to be found. You searched the rest of the bedroom as well, wondering where you could leave him. Instead of a movie, you ended up spending the evening looking for a teddy bear.

You were slowly starting to panic. If you couldn't find him, did that mean bad luck and nightmares would return? Will you go back to the bottom again? Will you be afraid to get out of bed in the morning again? You fell to your knees in a panic and held your head.

How could something like this even happen to you? Was it just a dream and you will wake up in the morning to a harsh reality? Was this just another nightmare? Just a figment of your troubled mind?

Strange footsteps interrupted you from your train of thought. It couldn't be your friend, she was long gone. Would they be thieves? You really couldn't care less. It would just suit your miserable situation.

"Why are you on the floor?" a familiar voice asked you, but it lacked the classic cheerfulness. Instead of it, he was full of worries. You looked at him with tear-filled eyes. You didn't even know you started crying.

“Whoa, why are you crying? Did someone hurt you?” he asked in surprise, looking like he was ready to beat up anyone who tried to harm you in any way.

“No,” you replied in a husky voice as you wiped away your tears and shook your head. At first, you were hesitant to confide in him, but it was your dream after all. That's why you told him about the teddy bear and your fears.

"I was already afraid that someone hurt you," he breathed and smiled. "You don't have to be afraid of anything. I'm Luffy, your sleep protector,” he replied as if it was obvious.

“Huh?” You didn't understand what he meant. “But that teddy bear…” you trailed off.

"That was me," he jumped into your speech proudly. "So I protected you in your dreams, but I wanted to protect you here too," he replied with satisfaction.

You watched him and tried to make sense of it when his hands stretched out and he pulled you to him like nothing. He hugged you and rubbed his cheek on your head.

"I like you a lot more when you're happy. Tears don't suit you,” he said while cuddling you.

Everything was so real and pleasant that you believed it. And if this was a dream, you never wanted to wake up. You looked at him and kissed him. You haven't felt this safe and loved in a long time.

Sleep Protector Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #sleep protector #sleep protector luffy #teddy bear #luffy #Monster Piece

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cattimeswithjellie · 1 year

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There seems to be a pervasive opinion that Scar is winning the MCYT Tumblr Sexyman contest due to a misunderstanding of what Tumblr Sexymen are, and that in fact Scar's fans believe he's just a regular sexyman. This is in fact not true at all. Scar's pathetic squishy wet-cat-standing-in-a-puddle-even-though-the-door-is-open credentials have long since been established in the fandom. (This contains spoilers for most things Scar has been in lately.)

In Hermitcraft Season 9, Scar won Statistics Roulette last week on "number of deaths" despite the fact that his statistics were reset only three or four months ago. Pathetic squish of a big-hatted man died more times in four months than Impulse or Grian did in ten. And because of the reset, it doesn't even count the twenty or so times Grian and Mumbo murdered him for fun on the very first day of the server!

In Double Life, Grian literally snagged him with a fishing pole and dragged him home with him in an ultimately futile effort to keep him from dying. Scar learned that Grian was cheating on him and passive-aggressively snarked about it to other people for two episodes, then baked cookies for Grian's secret soulmate.

In 100 Hours Hardcore, Grian and Joel basically formed a protection squad to keep Scar alive, to the point of coating the land under his base with beds to fall on and raiding a mansion for totems of undying. They still failed because Scar put apples in his off-hand instead of a totem and didn't notice his elytra was ready to break.

In Season 8, Scar was killed when a llama spat on him. His hat was unimaginably tiny, so tiny that he was forced to commission a huge model hat to wear on top of the tiny hat.

In Last Life, Scar got scammed out of one life, blackmailed out of two more lives, then lost another one by falling into a trap he'd been warned of two minutes earlier, even while people were yelling at him not to fall in the trap. He had no diamond armor so he wore a diamond-colored skin but painted abs on it as well so he would look more buff.

In Third Life, Scar attempted to get a monopoly on dark oak without checking to make sure there wasn't an entire dark oak forest on the other side of the server. He tried to get a monopoly on sand by putting his home in the middle of a large desert and yelling at people who came to get sand. He was the first player to die, blown up in a prank gone wrong.

In Season 7, Scar wouldn't even shave or put on pants until he wanted to be elected mayor. It may actually have been a fake beard. He had to terraform the entire shopping district twice when he lost the Turf War because the other side didn't actually like mycelium, they just liked causing problems for Scar.

In conclusion, yes Scar runs around without a shirt and has abs so ferocious that they show through his "diamond" armor, but he is not a Sexy Man. He is a sexyman, a real Onceler through and through, and he deserves his sweep. Vote Scar!

#goodtimeswithscar #mcytblr sexyman poll #mcytblrsexymen #hermitcraft #traffic series

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hyunfilms · 8 months

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blue side of the sky (lmh) | ten.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 5.5k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, dancer lee know and dancer hyunjin (choreography video linked for inspo), implied jealousy, oc x minho are incredibly cute and share a lil dance moment heh, heated conversations/arguments, flashback at the end - lots and looots of crying/breaking down, jisung to the rescue 😔, worthy to note that this is an important chapter but it's not the only thing that occurred in their past..

—ON ROTATION: every kind of way - h.e.r | pray you catch me - beyoncé

"Uh, yeah. We'll start in about 5 minutes or so." You hear Minho's voice just as you turn the corner and arrive at the dance studio. You had closed up at the flower shop tonight, so you thought it would be the perfect time to watch Minho's class. He sent you the address and offered to come pick you up, but you told him you'd catch a ride over instead. Besides, his class would have been starting soon— you didn't want him to be late or missing for a class he was leading.

"You sure you're good?" San asks, just steps away from the studio. Minho catches sight of San escorting you near the door, and it instantly makes his heart sink.

So, San dropped you off.

Fucking great.

"Mhm. Thank you, Sannie." You look up at him with those eyes and it's so obvious San adores you. Who wouldn't?

"Let me know if you need me to pick you up? I'll be at the gym for awhile working out with a few friends."

"Okay." You wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a hug, and Minho has to divert this attention to something— anything— to prevent the irritation from increasing. "Hey." You tug on your bag strap as you walk in, already feeling a little out of place especially without any other familiar faces by your side.

"Hey." Minho gives you a tiny smile, brushing off his feelings about San. "You made it."

"I said I would. San was nice enough to drop me off."

"Yeah, I see." He clears his throat a bit.

"I'm definitely not dressed right." You nervously look down at your leggings and oversized crewneck before scanning the room again.

"It's alright." He lets out a small laugh. "You're just watching, anyway."

"Still." You chuckle and step inside, nearly hugging the wall with how many people are in attendance. You follow Minho to the far left corner in front of the room where you can peacefully watch without being in the way, setting your things down and taking a seat on the highchair.

"This gonna be okay for you? You can always move down if you think it's too loud or too crazy."

"Yeah, I'll be okay."

"Bathroom's just out the door and down to the left if you need it."

"Thanks."

"Don't make fun of me, okay?"

"I'll try not to." You chuckle as he starts to play his playlist, instructing for people to start stretching. It's nice to see Minho in this element because although you'd really like to remember this side of him, you can't. A few faces look your way with small smiles creeping up at the corner of their lips, making you wonder if they found you familiar. Surely, you'd been here with Jisung before— that's a given.

When you look out at the center of the floor, Minho is talking to another individual. He's tall, with longer black hair nearly hitting his shoulders; a bucket hat on with a longsleeve and sweats. They look at you every now and then while Minho mutters something, followed by a nod from the unfamiliar individual. Then, he walks over to you, a small, toothless smile painted across his face.

"Hey Y/N, it's nice to see you."

"Hey." You say, doing a head tilt to observe him a little more.

"I'm Hyunjin. We've met when you used to visit before." His smile grows a bit. "It's nice to see your face again, glad to know you're doing well."

"Yeah, it's nice to see you too." You respond, unsure of how to move forward with Hyunjin. He seems nice though, and he seems fond of you.

"Hope you enjoy the class." He says once more before shutting off the music and calling attention from the class. They begin to explain what the choreography will be like for today— something quick, but fun and upbeat. Minho and Hyunjin start playing Bryson Tiller's On Top, demonstrating the choreo to the class. The class yells in excitement and it makes you smile, seeing how involved and supportive everyone gets.

Class officially starts with Hyunjin and Minho breaking down the steps, allowing people to ask questions and get comfortable with the piece before practicing it a few times, then moving onto the next set. You even join in some laughs every now and then when Minho and Hyunjin start bickering, the rare moment Minho messes up his own choreography and catches himself with that look on his face.

He's cute.

Very cute.

Especially, when he looks your way and throws a smile every now and then. You have to look away from time to time to stop yourself from feeling these feelings over your bestfriend because why did it feel so familiar, yet brand new? Situations like this can get awkward and weird quickly, but for you— it didn't feel that way at all.

It felt.. right. Like this is supposed to happen, like how things are supposed to unfold— somehow.

After timeless practice and choreo clean up, the class is successfully dancing the piece flawlessly alongside with Minho and Hyunjin. Towards the end of class, they split them into different groups— allowing each group to do the piece together and freestyle a bit at the end. It's fun, and you love the atmosphere. You must've really enjoyed it back then.

Too bad you aren't sure you could handle it anymore.

Once class is over, the class gathers their things and thank both Minho and Hyunjin for yet another fun piece. They wave and bid their farewells, with Hyunjin shortly following behind. He yells a quick goodbye to you with a wave, greeting Minho on his way out.

"How was it?" Minho brushes his hair back and throws his cap back on, sweat still dripping down his forehead profusely. He's trying to gather his breath as he walks towards you, wiping away at his forehead and neck.

"You looked really good out there." You smile. "You looked like you were having fun."

"That's good, right?"

"Pretty cool, I'd say."

"Nice. At least you think so." You laugh.

"Did I use to come to class before?"

"Uh, yeah." Minho nods. "With Jisung. Chan and Seungmin would join too if they had time and were up for it."

"Sounds fun, and it looks really fun. I just don't think I could dance like that again. Wish I could."

"You can." You raise a brow. "Here." Minho holds his hand out for you to take. You give him a small smile before grabbing his hand, letting him lead you to the middle of the studio. "I'll teach you something simple, okay?" You chuckle.

"I-I don't know, Min."

"Trust me. You'll be okay. I promise."

"Okay, but don't laugh at me in the process. I'm probably very rusty and bad at this."

"Never." He smiles. "Alright." He says, standing next to you. He starts to show you the first 8-count, slowly guiding you through every step—patiently. He rehearses with you time and time again before teaching you another 8-count. It's a little more complex than the first set, but not anything incredibly difficult. You have to pause and ask Minho to repeat himself a bit, shyly laughing and apologizing at how many times you need to see him demonstrate. He makes you feel comfortable with the way he laughs along and tells you it's okay, reassuring that you're doing well— that you're hitting every step perfectly. Then, there's the other side that makes you incredibly shy and reserved again, especially when he asks you to do it for him while he watches. He finds it adorable how you cover your face and tell him 'no' repeatedly, only to finally be encouraged to step out of your comfort zone and do the steps on your own.

You feel good.

This feels different, but good.

But, at one point, you stumble on your own feet— causing you to trip. He catches you before you could take a nasty fall, holding onto your waist just as you slowly turn to look at him. He looks you in the eye and gives you a soft smile before helping you adjust your position.

"Woah." He laughs. "I got you. Are you okay?" He subconsciously brushes the hair away from your face and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, unsure of where the sudden action came from.

"I am." You look up at him with those eyes. "Thank you." He chuckles as he lets you step aside and brush yourself down.

"Mhm. How about we do it one more time then call it a night?" You laugh.

"That sounds good with me." He starts to play Every Kind of Way by H.E.R, showing you the steps to the song before having you practice along with him to the beat. Sooner or later, you're doing the steps alongside of Minho for a couple of times before he praises you and calls it a night, just to make sure it doesn't overwork you and put too much on your body.

"You did really well, Y/N. See, I told you you'd be great."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I mean it." He looks at you and smiles. "How do you feel?"

"Tired? But, good. It was simple, and not too much."

"Good. You're a natural, anyway. My words don't mean shit." You laugh.

"You're the instructor here, of course they do." You give him a playful punch on the bicep. "Thanks for this. I really enjoyed it."

"Yeah?" He smiles. "That's good. Hope that means you'll be back to watch more."

"Yeah, I will." You grab your things as Minho continues to clean up around the studio. "I'll probably get a good sleep tonight."

"As you should." He grabs his keys as he takes a swig of water. "Ready to go? Wanna grab something on the way home?"

"I'm okay. Uncle Adrian made some food and stashed some away for me." You smile. "Thank you, though."

"Course. Let's go then, princess." You look up at him as he walks ahead, subtly biting your lip at the pet name. It rolls off his tongue so smoothly, it almost seems like this was a typical nickname for you— from him.

During the ride home, you feel at ease with Minho to the point where it's a little sad you'll be leaving him soon. You've longed for his company for quite some time. Now that you finally have it, you don't really want to let go of it. He makes you laugh on the way home, cracking these jokes and showing off his dad humor to the fullest. Even though some of the jokes can be incredibly cringy to him, he loves hearing you laugh and giggle. He also loves the way you smile at him, the way your eyes sparkle every time you talk to him.

You're just beautiful.

You are love.

He hates that you have to part ways.

"Well." He parks the car in front of the house and looks at you. "Time for you to get some rest."

"Thanks again for today. I enjoyed it. It was a lot of fun." You smile at him and give him a small pinch on his arm. "I'll come by again."

"Good." He chuckles. "Have a good night, Y/N. Rest well."

"You too." You give him one last look and a wave before walking off. After watching you walk through the side door to get to your humble abode, Minho drives off to his next destination. He's in a good mood, but at the same time, he's not looking forward to his next interaction.

He knows he has to do this.

It needs to happen.

He parks his car in an open spot on the street, sighing to himself as he gathers his things and hops out the car. He's punching in the code to the lobby door before flying up the two flights of stairs. He heads down the familiar hallway, knocking on the door and anxiously standing aside as he waits for a response.

"Hey." Minho says as he stands in front of the door, watching as Kat smirks and tries to wrap her arms around him. He steps back though, and she confusingly looks at him when he gently pushes her arms back. "Sorry, I'm just here to talk. Do you have a quick minute?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess?" She says, gently closing the door behind her and stepping outside into the hallway. "What's up?" She crosses her arms as she eyes him up and down. Minho can tell she already knows where this is going, and there's really no way of sugarcoating the situation anyway.

It needs to happen.

Minho needs things to change.

"I, um—" Minho swallows the lump in his throat. He's just not good with this stuff in general, so he struggles. But, he manages to spit out the important part of this, which is: "—I don't think we should continue seeing each other anymore." She doesn't say anything for a moment to process whatever the fuck he just said, and the next response that comes out of her mouth is a pathetic little chuckle. Minho awkwardly shifts his weight from his left foot to his right foot, digging his hands into his pockets.

"Of course." Her voice breaks off a bit towards the end of her response.

"I'm sorry. I think you already knew where this was going though. I'm not sure what else to tell you." He probably looks even more like an asshole right now, especially with the way his expression doesn't really change; he's not doing much to explain, nor is he even trying with her in the first place. "This needed to happen."

"This needed to happen." She repeats as she crosses her arms and tears begin to fall down. She looks away to make it less obvious that she's starting to cry, but Minho catches on. She's hurt. Why wouldn't she be? He's a complete dick, and he has no one else to blame but himself for letting it get this far.

For ever letting it get this far.

"I'm sorry, Kat." He repeats because he doesn't know what else to do.

"Save it." She finally looks at him. "So, I was right." Minho just stupidly shrugs. "What's new, Minho? I don't know why I thought this time would be different."

"Kat." Minho lets out a sigh and shakes his head. "You and I both know we wouldn't work." He sighs again because truthfully, he did think they could at one point. He did try. He liked her.

But, he couldn't take it any further. It was just.. that.

"Okay, and then.. what? You're just gonna continue on with your sick little game and keep making her think that things are okay between you two? That your history is all pristine and angelic? Like you were always so fucking loyal—" Minho furrows his brows and lets out a little chuckle before shaking his head.

"We're not going there. Whatever goes on with Y/N, however this turns out— it doesn't concern you. As far as I know, it never did. At the end of the day, she's still my bestfriend and I need to prioritize her."

"Of course you do. That's your way of prioritizing her?" She rolls her eyes. "Goodluck with that Minho. She's gonna realize how much of a dick you actually are and want nothing to do with you." She gives him one last look before she's slamming the door in his face.

"I'm sorry." He repeats softly before turning on his heel and heading back down the hallway. He lets out a shaky breath of relief mixed with confusion, unsure of how to feel about everything because again— he's no good at this. And Kat is right, in a sense. You are eventually going to find out about all this shit, about how much of an asshole he was. Then, what? Would you want nothing to do with him? Would you stay away and keep your distance?

He's so dumb.

Why did he have to go and make all of this so fucking complicated? Now, he feels even worse. Because even if this page is closed, he still feels like he'll lose you.

And that's his fault.

Minho plops into the driver's seat, tempted to call you and ask if you've gotten settled at home. But, he stares at his phone screen for a good minute before he's shaking his head and setting his phone back down onto the middle console.

He should give you some breathing room.

With that, he takes the drive home, letting the music in the background fill the emptiness. He's not sure if he has an appetite for anything. He'll probably drink some tea when he gets home and hop in the shower before laying in bed; staring mindlessly at the ceiling. Eventually, his thoughts will travel down memory lane, then they'll fix on you. Sooner or later, he'll find he only gets an hour or two of sleep [if he's lucky] before he needs to tackle another day.

Surprisingly when he arrives home, he doesn't see Chan or Seungmin's car out front. It's not uncommon for Chan to be home late, but Seungmin? He knows that boy would never miss an opportunity to hop in bed early. He sighs as he steps inside— tossing his shoes and keys aside before waddling into the kitchen to heat up some water. He can hear Jisung clicking away at his keyboard while throwing f-bombs and other curse words at his computer screen. Minho continues to dig around to see what's around and in the fridge, but still— he doesn't find himself getting hungry for anything.

Once his water is done heating, he pours it into a mug and steeps his tea approximately for 4 minutes. He heads up the steps with his mug in hand, placing it down along with his things on his bedroom floor before walking to Jisung's room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Jisung's yelling turns into a whine. He kicks his head back onto his computer chair before letting out a deep sigh, body slumped into the chair.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just played such a shitty round." Jisung sighs.

"Where's Chan and Seungmo?"

"Chan's at the studio, and Seungmin's cousins are in town so he's out with them."

"Surprised he's out."

"Yeah, well." Jisung shrugs. "They don't come often." He turns to look at Minho. "How was Y/N during class today?"

"Uh, good." Minho shrugs a bit and chuckles. "I taught her something easy and slow afterwards. Then, I brought her home."

"Hm." Jisung hums as he eyes his bestfriend. Minho does that thing he does when he's trying to hide something [even though he's terrible at it in the first place]. He looks down at the floor and subtly bites on his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling. "Okay, what is it?"

"Huh?" Minho chuckles a bit. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Jisung repeats, already suspicious.

"It was just a good class?"

"All of a sudden? Cause Y/N was there?"

"I didn't even say anything like that—" All of a sudden, Minho can tell Jisung is angry. Especially with the way he cuts him off and stands from his seat.

"What the hell are you trying to do here, dude?" Jisung angrily looks at him, and Minho knew this was coming one way or another. He knew it'd happen soon.

He just didn't think it would be today. But alas, here we are.

Fuck.

"Okay, relax. I didn't even say anything. Classes are chill regardless." He repeats as he looks at Jisung, matching his energy. "Why are you getting angry?"

"Because! I told you. Don't do this. Don't make it harder on her. I asked for one thing from you and you couldn't even do that." Jisung spits back.

"No one is doing anything! I let her watch class and I taught her something. Big fucking whoop."

"Right. You took her home after."

"And?"

"And? Don't act stupid."

"What do you want from me?" Minho pathetically laughs.

"I know you. I've known you for years and I know the way you get with Y/N. You're trying again, aren't you?"

"Because she fucking came to class and we hung out for a bit?" Minho rolls his eyes, then shakes his head. "Besides— even if I was, what is it to you?"

"What is it to me? You're joking, right?" Jisung pauses. "Have you forgotten about all the shit you pulled with Y/N?"

"Stop acting like I have because I haven't! Thanks to your wonderful ass reminders." Minho's tone raises a bit, and he adds a bit of sarcasm to his statement. "You can't come at me for being the only one in the wrong here when you're hiding all of this from her. If you were really worried about her, you should've came clean from the beginning."

"Oh, please. You have no idea what it was like to fucking see her crying over you!" Jisung yells back. "That's why I do it! You weren't there to comfort her and console her for days, Minho! Why? Because of all that shit with Kat! I know I can't protect her from everything but I'll be damned if I let history repeat itself. So, yeah, you might be right in a sense— maybe I should've told her from the beginning so she wouldn't have these expectations. But I thought of you, too. I didn't think you'd want to lose her that way either."

"She's my bestfriend, too."

"Stop using that excuse. It's played out and it's old. You haven't treated her like that even after the accident happened. Get a fucking grip." Jisung lets out a small groan. "You know what she's been through, you know what you've done— yet, you're trying because she doesn't remember. You're so incredibly selfish." Jisung shakes his head. "Whatever though, you do you. If this gets all twisted and blown up at the wrong time, I'm putting that on you." Minho clenches his jaw for a moment while he looks at Jisung, but Jisung doesn't look like he's going to give this up anytime soon.

So, Minho lets out a sigh before shrugging. "I made some stupid mistakes and I know I still do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I started this mess and I'm sorry you had to see that because of me."

"Yeah, you should be. I don't know what I'll do if I see her hurt again, so please don't fuck this up any more than you already have. "Jisung sighs. He's upset, so he's saying whatever comes to mind first. But, the words hit Minho quick before Jisung can even apologize— cutting new, fresh wounds hearing his own bestfriend talk to him that way.

"I'll say it one more time before I let this go. I know I fucked up, but I'm your bestfriend too. Sometimes, it'd be a little nice if you cut me some slack. I'm learning from my mistakes and I'm trying to do better. It doesn't happen overnight but I'm not completely hopeless, you know?" Minho turns towards his room and shuts the door, causing Jisung to groan into his hands.

"Fuck."

☁︎ FLASHBACK | SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

It hadn't been too long before Minho was texting you, letting you know he was outside. You smiled to yourself and grabbed your jacket— tossing it on before shutting your door behind you. You waved when you saw his car, but you were quick to notice how unhappy Minho seemed in his car. He had his hood over his head, sitting in the driver's seat with a blank expression. You were excited to see him, but that faded once you realized he wasn't feeling the same way you were.

"Hey." You say softly as you step into the passenger's seat. "You okay?" He lets out a shaky breath before giving you a tiny, pursed smile.

"Yeah. Is it okay if we go for a quick drive somewhere?"

"Of course." You sit in the seat, uncomfortable with all the anxiety bubbling up in your stomach. Everything about Minho— his body language, his tone— says that things aren't okay, and you aren't sure if you're ready for what's about to happen.

Even though, you have an idea where this is going. Judging by how disconnected he's been from you lately.

Minho pulls up to a trail, lining the lake nearby campus. You and your friends have been here before, so it wasn't unfamiliar to you. What is unfamiliar is this Minho, how silent and cryptic he's being— how he's avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

But, he finally speaks. Even though it's a lousy:

"We should talk."

"Um, yeah. I think so. What's on your mind?" He sighs, but he still isn't making much eye contact with you even as you turn in your seat to face him. The silence is lethal, and you wish he would just come out and say it.

Why hold it off when it's clear where this is going?

"Babe." You say softly. "Babe, what is it, just—"

"I think we should break up." He finally looks at you, even when he doesn't feel enough courage to. There are tears lining his bottom lids, but they don't spill. He looks out the window again, finger brushing against his lip as he waits for your response.

The main reason why he immediately breaks eye contact is because he knows you'll cry. And you do. He hears you sniffing in the passenger seat, and he hears you holding back the sobs, the sounds that threaten to leave your throat.

He hates this, but he thinks this needed to happen.

"Why?"

"Don't you think we should? Look at us. We've just been fighting lately. We've been distant. One moment, we're okay and then the next, we aren't. It's been a cycle and I know you're tired of it just as much as I am."

"No, you don't speak for me. I would never be tired of this. I wouldn't look at us as some kind of chore, Minho." Your tone raises a bit.

"See, that's what I'm talking about!"

"No, you don't know what the hell you're talking about! Because if you did, you'd sit through this tough phase with me and work it out instead of finding the easy way out." Silence. "All these years and you think this is how we go about it?" You scoff. "Why don't you be honest and tell me what the real reason is."

"That's the reason."

"It's not. It's Kat, isn't it?" Silence again. And this time, it shatters you— breaks you into bits and pieces more than you can imagine. Because even though he isn't saying anything, the silence is telling. "Please just tell me the truth." You say close to a whisper, your cries becoming heavier when reality starts to settle in.

This was it.

He was done.

Where did you go wrong?

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I just think it's the right thing to do." He isn't answering the question, and you don't know if that makes it worse.

Scratch that, it does.

He can't even tell you the truth.

"How long has it been?"

"What?" He looks at you again.

"How long has it been, Minho? With Kat. How long have you liked her?" He sighs and shrugs.

"I don't know? A couple of weeks or so?" It's fitting, the timeline is fitting. It could be close to a month when Minho has been distant. He tried, thinking this was all a silly little phase, a stupid infatuation. But it wasn't, and now he's to the point where he's too curious and can't even focus on fixing his relationship with you.

Such a shame, you think.

You tried to think of all the signs that you missed. The parties that he had gone to recently without you there, the small conversations in the library, the random texts. Hanging out with people on campus that he normally wasn't around. Jisung questioned it too, but didn't think too much of it.

Fuck. You are so stupid.

All these years and it wasn't enough— you weren't enough.

"I should've—" You pause as you start to cry into your hands. "Where did things even go wrong— I—"

"Y/N, please don't do that. We've just run our course and I think we have to accept—"

"Don't. You chose, we didn't just run our course." You groan. "I'm so stupid." A few tears drop when he continues to hear you sob in the seat next to him, but he quickly wipes it away and starts the car. He's just unsure of what else to do or say at this point.

He's no good at this.

"I'm sorry." He says softly. "I'll take you back home, alright?" You don't say a word because you're exhausted from all of this already. Everything was wrong, everything felt wrong, uncomfortable, awkward. You hated this, and as much as you wanted to try and work this out—

There was nothing to work out.

You couldn't change his mind. He was set on it.

You just wanted to get home.

And when you do finally get back, you simply unbuckle the seatbelt and swing the door open even as Minho calls for your name one last time with a pathetic 'please.' You don't even know if he said anything else, you don't care enough to figure it out. You just needed to get away from him.

As soon as you step back into your room, you feel yourself getting more lightheaded and sick to your stomach. You sit on the floor, back pressed against your cabinet as you shakily pressed Jisung's number on your phone. It rings twice before he's picking up, saying his hello's as brightly as he always does.

"Cielo! Yo! What's up?" You can't even get the words out. Instead, you let out a breath before you're silently sobbing into the phone. It's easy for Jisung to tell. Besides hearing your light whimpers, you haven't said anything since he picked up the call. His heart drops as he stops what he's doing and immediately begins to grab at his keys. "Hey, cielo. What's going on?"

"J-Jisung." You stutter in between cries. "Can you come over please?"

"I'm already hopping into my car." He says as dashes to his car, shutting the door and starting it up. "I'll be there really soon, okay? I'll be there." He repeats.

"Okay." You end the call and wipe away at your face. You tuck your knees to your chest, silently weeping as you wait for your bestfriend to arrive. Minho's words continue to repeat in your head, and you feel what's left of you slowly crumble into pieces.

He wanted to see other people.

He didn't want this anymore.

He didn't want you anymore.

You try to rewind and think about every single moment you had shared with Minho— wondering where you went wrong and where you could've done better. None of this was your fault, but at the same time, everything felt like your fault.

Where could you have gone wrong?

"Cielo?" Through your silent cries, you hear Jisung scrambling outside of your door. He quickly shoves his shoes aside and swings the door open, his heart instantly dropping when he sees you crying on the floor. "Y/N, what's going on?" He worriedly asks as he drops down next to you, pulling you into his arms.

"He broke up with me."

"Minho?" Jisung furrows his brows, the anger rising within him. He knew Minho had been acting a little weird and distant lately, but he didn't think much of it. Maybe he should've, then he could've talked to him about what was going on in his mind. Find better ways to handle this.

But, you can never change someone's mind once they're set on it.

"It's Kat. He didn't say it, but I know it's her." Jisung sighs. Of course. It makes a little more sense. No wonder Kat had been around him a little more. No wonder he seemed disconnected.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers onto your head as he continues to hold you close, letting you drench his shirt with your tears. "I'm so sorry he did this." He repeats. "Swear I'll kill him."

"No." You softly respond. "Don't."

"I hate that he hurt you."

"H-He must really like her, doesn't he?" You pull back to look at Jisung and his heart shatters seeing you like this. The last time he's seen you this torn up was when your mom passed.

He knows you are hurting.

You hurt, and you hurt.

"I don't know, Y/N. I wish I knew more about this, but I'm in the dark as much as you are."

"He doesn't want me." Jisung lets out a breath before pulling you back towards him. "What did I do wrong?"

"Don't say that. Don't ever question yourself. None of this was your fault. He'll realize what a dumb fucking mistake this was." He rubs your arm. "He let go of someone great and that is his biggest loss."

"Jisung." You cry even harder and Jisung has no idea what else he could possibly do to alleviate the pain. He wishes he could take this way from you. "This hurts." You repeat. "This hurts so bad. Why didn't any of this matter to him? This hurts." You go on.

"I know. I'm sorry Y/N. I'm here." He hugs you tighter and rests his chin on the top of your head. "I'm here. We're gonna get you through this. You have me."

☁︎ END

⇢ read jisung's thoughts in 10.5: [cloudy days] here

♡ taglist: @ppiri-bahng @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @sweetlikecherry @hoes4lino @skzddicted @skzho @edgaralienpoe @harui-zen @bestleeknowstan @havenwithleeknow @septicrebel @heesdazed @borahae-reads @yoontaethings @pearbunny @bintificreads @lukeys-giggle @ajxreads @everglowdaisies @allaboutsan @endzii23 @leeknowsramen @heres-your-ramen2000 @morningstardada @mal-lunar-28 @downbadreading @lilysophie @feelikecinderella @urmomma0324 @ddazed-lhs @djeniryuu @melanctton @i8rsie @maru-matt @sleepyleeji @taerifin @nattisbored @jisunglyricist @m111nho @drhsthl @nixtape-foryou @arminseas @guiltycoco @syuuji @sulkygyu @cadihyo @reianagarcia @leeknowyah @smndjdufuehr @dprkbyn @xxibreinaxx @mxnsxngie [bold = can’t tag 🥺]

#lee know series #lee know fanfic #lee know fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids series #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #lee know angst #lee know smut #lee know fluff #lee minho angst #lee minho fluff #lee minho smut #hyunfilms: blue side of the sky

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smnthvxe · 2 months

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Chapter 1: The Past Echoes

Chapter 2 , last chapter

Readers point to view

The sun dipped below the horizon in Sumeru, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink as I closed the shop for the evening. The little coffee shop, once just a dream, had become my sanctuary, a place where laughter and the rich aroma of coffee beans filled the air. Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle, my heart harbored a quiet sorrow, a longing for the one who had once been my everything—Kunikuzushi.

Our life together seemed like a distant memory, a fleeting moment of happiness that had slipped through my fingers like grains of sand. I remembered his smile, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, and the warmth of his touch. But those memories were overshadowed by the pain of his departure, the day he walked away, leaving me with nothing but silence and a heart full of unanswered questions.

"I wonder where you are now," I murmured to the empty room, allowing myself a moment of vulnerability. The walls of the coffee shop, adorned with pictures and trinkets from our travels, echoed back my solitude.

Nights were the hardest, when the world fell silent, and the weight of his absence felt unbearable. I would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, imagining scenarios where he would return, where he would explain why he left and we could start over. But as the dawn broke, reality would set in, and I'd brace myself for another day without him.

One evening, as the final rays of sunlight vanished, leaving the world in twilight, a figure appeared at the door of the coffee shop. My heart skipped a beat, a foolish part of me hoping against hope. But it wasn't him; it never was. Instead, it was a traveler, seeking refuge in the warmth of the shop and a cup of coffee to ease their journey.

"I heard this place serves the best coffee in Sumeru," A blond traveler remarked, breaking the silence.

" Yeah! Yeah! I bet her coffee can make Paimon jerk off all of the pain from that mean-rude-annoying hat guy!?" The little fairy spoke

I chuckled, pouring them a cup. "I hope it does little one."

As they settled down, the blond traveler—known as Aether shared tales of their adventures, of the people they'd met and the wonders they'd seen. And for a brief moment, I allowed their stories to transport me away from my sorrow, to remind me of the joy and beauty in the world. The world he promised to explore.

But as the night drew to a close and Aether thanked me for the hospitality, I was left alone once again with my thoughts. I wondered if Scaramouche ever thought of me, if he ever regretted leaving. The rational part of me knew it was futile to dwell on what could have been, but the heart is seldom ruled by reason.

I busied myself with cleaning up, trying to shake off the thought. "You need to move on," I whispered to myself, a mantra I repeated every day, yet found so hard to practice.

One day, curiosity got the better of me, and I ventured out, seeking any trace of him. I traveled to Inazuma, to the places we had once explored together, hoping to find closure, to finally let go of the past. But instead of peace, I found only echoes of our time together, reminders of the love we shared and the pain of his departure.

As I stood in front of our old home, now abandoned and falling into disrepair, tears filled my eyes. "Why did you leave, Scaramouche? Why did you break us?" I whispered, the questions lingering in the air, unanswered.

I realized then that I might never get the closure I sought, that some wounds take longer to heal, and some questions remain unanswered. But I also understood that I couldn't live in the shadow of his memory forever.

"Oh? Who you might be?"

A voice spoke from behind, i turned around to see a Kitsune-like woman with a shrine dress.

"I was.." you cutted " Visiting something"

"Visiting you mean that house over there? Sorry to say this dear but that house is already abandoned. "

She pointed to our shared home at the nearby hill.

"Yes, I know. I was just- recollecting some old memories"

By that she smirked and I bid my farewell, walking away.

With a heavy heart, I returned to Sumeru, to my coffee shop, my haven. I poured my soul into my work, creating a space filled with warmth and happiness, a stark contrast to the emptiness I felt inside.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, I slowly began to rebuild my life. I found joy in the simple pleasures, in the smiles of my customers, and also I became good friends with Aether, he would often visit my shop to drink coffee and share his adventures with me. My interest perked up as he said something about fighting a false god along with Buer. You were always a fan of sumeru's Archon that's why you choose to move there.

There are some days where I close the shop, drinking bitter coffee (which reminds you of Scaramouche) alone reflecting every moment I have spent with him.

And though I may never fully understand why he left, I've come to accept that some chapters in our lives must come to an end, to make way for new beginnings. So, I continue to move forward, one day at a time, carrying the lessons of the past and the hope for a brighter future.

In the quiet moments, when the world slows down, and I find myself lost in thought, I whisper a silent wish for Scaramouche, wherever he may be. "I hope you've found your peace," I say, letting my words drift into the ether, a final goodbye to a love that once was. But.. If ever he'll come back ...

A/N : hehe kinda rushed lmao

(You may notice some grammatical errors cus yk im kinda writing this and studying for our exam)

#Scaramouche #wanderer #genshin inazuma #genshin imagines #genshin scaramouche #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer genshin #sumeru #genshin angst #kunikuzushi #angst #slow burn #fanfic

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hezzabeth · 5 months

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Everyone who lived on Baker Street had come out from the fog to eat Nanni’s dinner. This made perfect sense; Nanni was one of the few people in the park who knew how to cook meals using ingredients and an oven.

When the park was still open, Revati's home was a coffee shop called the “Mad Hatter Teaparty.” The walls were painted in eye-watering clashing shades of neon pink and green. The light fixtures hanging from the ceiling were all giant velvet top hats. The booths were giant flower teacups with tiny chairs and tables inside.

"Was there some sort of drug in the pineapple?" Revati heard Brigadeiro ask. Revati just ignored him and instead walked past each of the booths, collecting tributes; nobody ate Nanni’s for free.

The Paprikas sat in the blue and gold teacup, their neon orange hair clashing with the paint. The Paprikas were two brothers and their sister who had found themselves trapped in the park as children. Their parents had been vaporized by a towel-warming rack. Now they were in their mid-twenties and worked for Revati as hired muscle for free dinners.

"Who's the new guy? He's actually clean and good-looking," the youngest brother Brie asked Revati. "His name is Brigadeiro Bun; he's an off-world tourist who stupidly went to the wasteland," Revati said. "I was trying to find crystal roses," Brigadeiro smiled helpfully.

"Bridgadeiro huh? So your parents were Goup worshippers then?" The sister, Juniper, asked curiously. Revati vaguely knew that Goupism was a popular religion on other colonies. Over a thousand years ago, there was once a woman who apparently traveled the earth gathering the best health practices needed to be “happy.” "A white woman, and she stole most of her ideas from our eastern religions," Amma, who was a staunch atheist, had snapped with annoyance when Revati asked her to explain the Paprika siblings' religion. Still, despite her thievery, at some point, she had become a god. They firmly believed in things such as “psychic vampires” and “color-balancing therapy.” They also all had peculiar food-related names, mainly because the goddess had named her daughter Apple.

"Yes, they were. They insisted on coming here for a Wellness Day holiday," the eldest brother, Croquette, growled. "I miss mama's Wellness Day Avocado and chocolate cookies," Juniper sighed sadly. "It's not the same, but here I have a couple of factory-made ones in my pocket," Brigadeiro said, crawling into the booth. The Paprika siblings gasped with astonishment as he pulled a packet of cookies wrapped in gold paper out of his jumpsuit's gigantic pocket. "They got a bit crushed when I was kidnapped, but they're still good," he said, opening the package and placing it on the table. The Paprika siblings stared at the cookies, their mouths slack with shock. Croquette slowly shook his head, completely snatched the package, and began to serve the crushed crumbs amongst his siblings. "You need to keep this one forever," Juniper said firmly, and Revati just shook her head, moving onto the next table.

The next table consisted of the elderly Gupta couple. "You adopted another kid? If you want more water for him, we want more dried apples," Mrs. Gupta said, a small scowl on her wizened face. It was Mr. Gupta who had figured out how to gather and purify water from the atmosphere. It was Mrs. Gupta who managed and recorded all the water they collected, rolling it out like a tyrannical dictator. "Fine, one extra package of dried apples per week," Revati said before swishing grandly onwards.

Amma was sitting in the pink cup, her new partner Dusk Brisbane. Dusk Brisbane was a teacher from Titan, who, along with their students on a field trip, found themselves stuck in the park. Like all people from Titan, Dusk had inherited the ability to rapidly change biological genders. Titan had also inherited a name that meant a time of day and a gender. Dusk’s remaining students were sitting with Dityaa on a large cat-shaped sofa. When the invasion began, there were twenty-three of them. Now there were only five nineteen-year-olds left. Dityaa was holding court over all of them, sitting on a couch shaped like a giant grinning beast. "Your sister said you had an interesting night," Amma remarked as Revati sat down next to her. Nanni had laid out a plate of aloo mushroom curry. Revati picked up a piece of hardtack and dipped it into the sauce, refusing to talk. "So you're not even going to bother telling your side of the story?" Amma asked as Revati swallowed. Nanni always moaned that her cooking was so much better before the war. Years ago, Nanni worked in the city as a professional meal prepper for wealthy families that wanted to eat real organic food.

Nanni was proud of her ability to create one hundred percent sand-free meals using the most exotic ingredients. Nanni would bemoan to everyone that her meals were now a mess, that her spices were too basic, and that she never had enough salt. Revati, however, who had never tried anything else, thought her food was delicious. "I'm hungry! Besides, what's the point in telling my side? I'm sure Dityaa's story was more enthralling," Revati replied. "Every story needs both sides and the truth," Dusk remarked. As they spoke, their features shifted from a feminine middle-aged woman's face to a man's face with a beard. "You're not my creative writing teacher, and you're not my parent," Revati pointed out.

Revati knew deep down she didn’t dislike Dusk; Dusk was a perfectly decent person. Not to mention Amma had been so lonely until Dusk offered to help her teach the feral children a year ago. Still, it was a lot to get used to.

“True, but your mother did ask you a question, and I think she deserves an answer," Dusk replied in that same mild diplomatic voice. Revati deliberately ate another mouthful of curry before wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her dress. "Dityaa got attacked by some lady at the ball; the chutiya had A.I. eye implants! They must have switched on somehow," Revati explained. "Mind your mouth, Revati! There will be no swearing at the dinner table," Amma scolded her. "Her implants switched on? That's so odd; one of my students had AI tastebuds, but they stopped working the second we walked into the park," Dusk remarked, their face shifting back into a woman's as they glanced at one of their students. The student in question, Basil Paris, was sitting next to Dityaa, licking their hand. Dusk was right; in order to create true "historical authenticity," the park was surrounded by massive mirrors. The volcanic Martian glass blocked the "AI" life stream. "And what did you do?" Amma asked in a quiet, nervous voice. "I threw a glass of vodka at her face, and her eyes fried up," Revati replied.

"Can you take the children's sign language lesson tomorrow morning? I need to check the mirrors around the walls," Amma said to Dusk.

"Of course," Dusk replied, and Revati rolled her eyes.

"You don't need to do anything, Amma! I'm the elected leader of Baker Street! This is my job," Revati said firmly.

"You're only seventeen!" Amma protested.

"Almost everyone voted for me! Well, apart from Mrs. Gupta, who voted for herself," Revati said, and mother sighed.

"Fine! But you're not going to leave well after the sun rises, and you're not taking Cora and Laila! You can take Vivienne and Jay Jr.," Mother replied firmly.

Nine minutes past midnight.

Revati's eyes snapped open in the blue-glowing darkness. Slowly, she sat up, taking in the familiar shapes of the kitchen's walk-in freezer. Dityaa was sleeping next to her on the souvenir pillows Amma had sewn together into a makeshift bed. In the corner, the feral children slept together in a nest made of old soft toys. Nanni was snoring on one of the plastic shelves that had long ago stored ice cream. Amma insisted on them all sleeping behind the massive metal doors. To anyone who lived near any other planet, it would have been freezing, but Martians had evolved to withstand the cold.

Revati stood up and glanced down at Dityaa. Dityaa had worn her new dress to bed, ignoring the stains. The blood on her dress looked shiny black, her face shadowy blue. She looked just like Princess Savitri in the family book of fairy tales. Revati, on the other hand, had changed into her pajamas, which consisted of a long-sleeved men's shirt three sizes too big. The red fabric hung to her knees, and the words "Olde Landon Halloweenfest 3544" had been printed across the front. Revati picked up her blanket, draping it around her shoulders. Sleep wasn't going to return any time soon. Revati reached underneath her part of the mattress until she found the stories.

Outside the metal doors, Revati could hear distant voices, and carefully she slid the door open. Amma and Dusk were sitting together on the cat-shaped couch, murmuring to each other over tea.

"I don't see how they could know..." Amma began, and then she trailed off, spotting Revati.

"Insomnia again?" She asked gently, and Revati nodded, walking past the two of them.

"If you're going up to the greenhouse, be quiet; I made a bed for the boy up there," Mother replied.

"Really, Amma? You couldn't give him a bed?" Revati asked, opening the front door.

"He would freeze in the fridge, and he said he liked plants," Mother replied.

Outside, the fog was still shifting, and Revati moved ten spaces to the right.

"Evening, boss," Juniper's voice called, and she suddenly appeared holding a jar filled with glowing mushrooms.

"Any problems?" Revati asked.

"Nope, it's been a pretty quiet night!" Juniper said.

"Good, make sure your brother takes over your shift! We don't want you fainting from sleep deprivation again," Revati replied.

#nanowrimo #nanowrimo2023 #regency core #art #science fiction #life on mars #fantasy #speculative worldbuilding #winter wonderland #winter

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lou-struck · 9 months

Text

The Perfect One

Shinsuke Kita x reader

~You visit Kita at his Farmers Market booth and realize that he has closed up early to run an important errand.

WC: 1.6k

The market hasn’t even been open for thirty minutes, but already the streets are packed full of cars; your eyes scan the packed street, searching for even the tightest parking spot.

Today you plan to surprise your boyfriend at his farmer’s market stand, give him some much-needed quality time, and take him out for a lunch date after he closes up shop, Which, according to your calculations, should be selling out in an hour or so…

Shinsuke Kita’s Rice stand is one of the most popular booths due to the high quality of his product and the fact that most vendors and patrons have fallen head over heels for the handsome rice farmer.

And how could they not?

Shinsuke’s honest charm and hardworking demeanor are enough to make anyone fall in love with him. But out of everyone, he chooses to be with you because he loves you just as much as you love him.

And this silly feeling called love is what compelled you to wake up early on a Saturday morning fueled with nothing but the promise of a large cup of coffee and some freshly baked scones with raspberry jelly once you find him.

Your car creeps through the street at a snail’s pace as you spot a light blue truck pulling out from a parking spot on the corner. As you approach, you notice that it looks like a tight fit, but you squeeze into it the best you can. Pulling forward, you hear the overly dramatic sound of your front bumper hitting the curb, but as you reverse slightly and put the car in the park, you shake it off, slipping out of the driver’s seat and onto the pavement.

Rays of sun hit your skin through the layer of cloudy overcast as you walk, making the short trip to the center of the market rather pleasant as you pass people carrying baskets overflowing with fresh produce, baked goods, handcrafted soaps, and other goods.

Stands to sparkle with racks of handmade jewelry and blown glass trinkets that vie for your attention as you walk; if you haven’t been here before, you would’ve lost yourself amongst the crowd, but luckily, you know your way around fairly well by now.

As you get closer to your boyfriend’s usual spot, a few produce vendors you recognize from the weeks before. Despite the many customers at their stalls, they still give you a friendly wave as you walk; off in the distance, you see the edge of the hand-painted sign outside of Shinsuke’s booth, the sign the two of your painted together months ago.

Memories of that wine-stained night bring a giddy smile to your chapstick lips as you quicken your pace, springing over a spilled cone of shaved ice that someone must’ve just dropped.

You creep slowly around the corner, ready to scare. Instead of his soft smile and strong form, behind the register rests a generic sign.

Be back in 30 minutes…

That’s strange; even with his cashbox secured, Kita would never just leave his booth unattended for such a long time. You can’t help but wonder where he has gone.

Is he not feeling well?

Is he in the bathroom?

Whatever the answer may be, you choose to go sit at his stall to watch it until he gets back. You would hate for someone to try and steal things from him.

The next stand over, a friendly older woman peeks out from behind a massive pile of unshucked corn on the cob and gives you the warmest smile you have received all week. She is a longtime friend of Kita’s grandmother and almost always slips you one of her homemade apple tarts. Her floppy sun hat protects her lovingly aged skin from the harsh rays of the overcast sky.

“Oh, hello, My Dear,” she calls in her soft voice. “What brings you to the market so early?”

“Good morning,” you smile, watching fondly as her little leopard-printed cane carries her closer to you. I came to surprise Shinsuke, but it seems he went off somewhere.”

“Oh, don’t worry about him, Dear; he’ll be right back.” she laughs. There is a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she looks at you. “But I told that sweet boy I would watch his stall.”

“An errand?” you ask. “Is he feeling alright? It is so unlike him to just leave the stall”.

She just smiles knowingly. “He is just fine dear, but if you would like to check on him, head to the stalls near the main street while I hold down the fort.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” you smile. “I’ll head over there now.” With a final wave, you turn the corner and leave the stall in her capable hands.

It’s only a quick walk to the main street, but the cluster of booths is different from the usual produce stalls you are familiar with. It only takes a little sniff of the fresh air to figure out that Main Street is where all the flower vendors set up shop to sell their wonderfully constructed bouquets of flowers. Sunflowers, lilts, Peonies, and Daisies galore in every color you can think of rest in large buckets of water reaching upwards toward the light.

You wander past each stall, enchanted by the sweet smells and vibrant petals, until you hear a familiar voice speaking to one of the vendors.

“Thank you for taking the time to help me out with this. All of these are breathtaking, but I want to find the right one.” Your boyfriend says, aching down and smelling a large pink Lilly.

“Is there a particular combination you are looking for?” the vendor says, a light pink blush on their cheeks, no doubt having fallen victim to his natural charm.

“Not a combination in general; I just want a Bouquet that looks like them.” he hums, placing his hand under his chin in thought.

The vendor turns their head to the side. “How so?”

“The peonies with the iris are so fun and vibrant, just like Y/n, but then the Tulips with eucalyptus, baby’s breath, and Callalilles look so elegant and beautiful it makes me wonder if they could see themselves in those as well.”

“Young man, if everyone put as much thought into a bouquet of flowers as you did, the would be a much better place,” they say honestly. “I am sure whatever one you choose, your partner will love, especially with you being such a romantic.”

“I don’t know if I would consider myself a romantic; I just want y/n to have a nice bouquet of flowers today,” he says simply. Even though he has his back to you, you see the way the back of his neck flushes at the vendor’s words.

Is he really putting all this thought into a bouquet for you?

A part of you feels guilty for eavesdropping on him, but really, your heart is fluttering out of control at such a romantic gesture. You turn your back and dart quickly behind a tent that shields you from his view.

Just as you think you are in the clear, you hear a pleasant voice call out from behind out. “It looks like you caught me.” Your breath hitches; Kita has always been too good at picking up those little details, especially when it comes to you.

“I-i’m sorry,’ you stammer, turning around to face him, “I just wanted to surprise you, and I ended up ruining yours.”

His coffee-colored gaze softens as he takes in every inch of your flustered features as if they were a work of art. “You didn’t ruin anything, quite the opposite, actually.”

You blink as you take in his words; how exactly is you ruining his floral surprise a good thing?

“How so?”

He chuckles to himself, “Because now we can pick out the flowers together.” He says it so simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your knees feel weak as he continues, “I want to know what you like so that I can surprise you in the future. You deserve a life full of happy surprises.”

Boom, there goes your heart, and blood rushes to your cheeks so quickly that your hands fly to cover your face from the world.

“Flustered, are we?” he laughs softly, removing your hands from your face and tilting up your chin with the utmost care.

Playfully you stick your tongue out at him with an endearing boldness, “Sometimes I think you’re too good at this. Is there someone else you practice on?”

He rolls his eyes as a characteristic snort escapes his lips. “Only you, My Love. Do I need to prove it to you?”

“Absolutely,” you tease, letting your gaze fall from his sparkling eyes and onto his soft lips. They curve upward knowingly before they meet yours in a tender kiss. He holds you gently as if you are one of the many flowers in the surrounding booths.

You’re breathless, but you want more; Kita’s touch, combined with the sweet floral fragrance, is dizzying and makes you forget about the hundreds of people passing by on the other side of the tented wall.

He pulls away with a tenderness that makes you feel like you are falling in love over and over again. The sweetest look in his eyes as he guides you back towards the flower stalls and the rows and rows of bouquets, so that the two of you can pick out the perfect one together.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kita hq #shinsuke kita x reader #shinsuke kita #kita x reader #kita haikyuu #kita shinsuke #kita scenarios #kita fluff #haikyuu fluff

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saintunhinged · 2 years

Note

prompt #52 with Asra who planning is to propose plz and ty!! 💖💞

pt 2

“We’ve met that generous magician of yours.” An old lady abruptly commented. She startled you, not knowing she and an old man were standing behind you, but the softness and welcoming smile plastered on her face immediately gave you a sense of serenity.

You flashed a warm smile toward the couple, curious of the hearty statement the woman made. “Asra?” You eloquently asked.

The two shared a knowing look, a twinkle in their eyes as they wore a similar smile of mischief. “I have reason to believe your marriage will be long and fulfilling.” Her words were gentle, but the assumption she made had you questioning them.

Your eyes widened realizing what they meant and your mouth parted to acknowledge their mistake, “Oh! No, we’re not married!” A profuse heat spread across your face as you tried clearing the confusion, but they didn’t seem to be listening. Instead, you watched them indicatively walk away, grins stretched across their wrinkled faces as if they knew of the best biggest secret ever.

Surely, friends of you and Asra joked about the two of you being like an old married couple, but you never saw these people in your life. At least from as far as you remembered.

Surprisingly, you couldn’t wait to tell Asra about the odd encounter.

Your thoughts aimlessly wandered to the old couple you ran into earlier at Nadia’s palace. “People think we’re married.” Even the words leaving your mouth felt foreign. It was late at night when you and Asra returned to the shop. After a long and exhausting day of running around Vesuvia, you particularly wished to end the day with a warm cup of tea.

You dropped your collected items off on the counter. Behind you, Asra hung up his hat and scarf on the hook next to the entrance. His sluggish movements meant he was just as tired, but nonetheless, he wanted to indulge in your unanticipated revelation. “What makes you say that?” He was curious to know what you were thinking.

While searching for the tea kettle, you politely asked the salamander to set a fire, hoping the wood you left with it before leaving was enough. “There was this old couple I ran into at the palace. The lady said our marriage will be fulfilling. And then she ran off before I could tell her otherwise!” You explained, a trace of unbelief framing your voice. After gathering the various herbs into an infuser, you waited for the water to start boiling in the kettle.

“Is that all she said?” He wondered, feeling the speed of his heartbeat accelerate. Asra no longer felt as tired anymore. With your back facing him, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was glad you were occupied, otherwise the confunded expression painted over his face would’ve given you the impression that you said something you weren’t supposed to.

He had knowledge of who you spoke of. Afterall, that lady had told him the same thing. Asra had first run into them years ago. He considered them good friends, wise with the age to prove it. So it was no surprise when they showed up offering him the advice he graciously took. They just so happened to catch him shortly after the two of you parted ways in the palace. That’s when his plan to propose to you was disclosed. Though, he never expected you three to meet.

When the tea kettle whistled, you set out a cup for both you and Asra. Fixing the hot beverage to your likings, you shook your head, “They practically skipped away before I could get another word out. I mean, can you believe that? Us, married? ” The idea of it ironically humored you.

He was relieved knowing his plans still were hidden, but the vague chuckle you let fall from your lips led Asra to believe marriage was an impossible concept for you. “Does it bother you?” He gingerly made an inquiry, causing you to turn to him, confused in the slightest of what exactly could bother you. That was until he quickly continued, “The thought of being together like that?”

Your gaze fell to his inviting eyes. Sure, it would have been nice to imagine, but if you were being honest, you never really gave much thought to it. You were happy with your relationship as it was. But since it was a conversation that you and Asra were having, you couldn’t help but imagine committing to sharing your life with him.

“Hm.. I suppose it doesn’t.” You honestly told him, and from the redness spreading rapidly across his cheeks, you wondered what was going on in his head. His sudden bashfulness and attempt to avoid eye contact caused a warm feeling to course through you. The sight was truly adorable.

Asra slid in the seat around the table where readings were done. You considerately placed the steaming cups of tea on the table in front of Asra, before sitting down in the seat opposite of him. Reaching across the table, you tenderly grab his soft hands in yours, rubbing your thumbs across his knuckles. “What are you thinking?”

His entrancing gaze found yours again, a renewed confidence traced his features. “Good things, love.” He sweetly smiled, bringing your hands up to press a hot kiss to your palm.

You were both content. Tomorrow, he would be certain in asking for your hand in marriage.

#asra alnazar #the arcana #asra alnazar x reader #the arcana x reader #asra x reader #asrathearcana #the arcana x apprentice #the arcana x you #the arcana x mc #asra x apprentice #asra the arcana #the arcana asra #asra the magician #asra x mc #asra x you #asra route #asra alzanar #asra

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hezuart · 7 months

Note

I’m Glad to hear your Opinions and that you Agreed about Blitz and Striker could have been interesting Dynamic!^^ There’s One More thing I want to Ask, have you ever thought about Re-Designing The Helluva Boss Characters? seen your Designs before and they are Amazing!>w<

I kinda tried a while back as just mere edits but I'm not really happy with them because they're not very original (Angel's was designed by someone else and I think Niffty's was too but i couldnt find the original artist)

Actually would straight up remove Husk's wings. He has no need for those. He's a bull in a china shop. He'd knock over so many alcohol bottles with those things in his tiny cramped bar... Would probably remove his top hat too, he's not the type to wear one of those. I'd also change his body shape. He'd be chubbier? Not too much, but definitely not lengthy. Alastor would be less red. Niffty would look more like a housewife. Angel's fingerless black gloves are definitely more "sexy" than the mismatched bright pink and white he has in his redesign. Vaggie I'd like to keep her pastel gothic look, but she needs antennae instead of a bow, and her hair should look more like moth wings. I think its okay for them all to share a little bit of red, but you gotta be careful about the shades and the amount you use. I'll probably revisit a potential redesign someday.

Striker probably just wouldn't be the same character as an antihero. Theoretically, he could be, if Viv didn't paint the top baddies of hell as good people. (Stolas, Asmodeus, Lucifer, Beezle, technically Alastor) If we had actual complex sins or actual, well... demons. That held evil values instead of basically just being abused party people, then Striker absolutely would be an anti hero for killing the rich overlords that suppress imp kind and cater towards human sinners.

I think that already appears to be the case in Hazbin Hotel, as shown with Alastor, Niffty, Angel, and Husker. They turned into animalistic demons with sharp teeth and powers. Which, again, I really need to look into religious texts more, but it was my understanding that in actual bible lore humans didn't turn into demons or angels when they are sent to heaven or hell. They're just as they are, allowed to live amongst beings better than them. You don't get a halo or wings, or a tail or horn. Those were reserved for angels, fallen angels, demons, and hellborns. Regardless, that's not the case for Vivziepop's Hell. Honestly from the pilot it looks like you immediately turn into a demon as soon as you die and teleport to Hell.

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #text post #ask

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pumpkinfreak · 3 months

Text

Watching Hannibal for the first time S2E1-4

Before I recap anything I need to rant. Will is in an asylum. At his lowest point, fighting for his life. Okay, Beverly Kats a pathologist from Jack's team. Comes to him and needs his help solving a murder. They found a body downstream, and Will, with his big brain wisdom, tells her to go upstream to find the killer... I am beginning to understand how these people could drive you to serial killing. HOW IS THAT NOT YOUR FIRST INSTINCT. It's a rural area, there's not a WAWA on every corner to search.

Apparently any rat bastard can get into the FBI, they all rely upon one guy using basic laws of nature to solve crimes. Like, this was not 4D chess, it was Connect Four. Instead of connecting four, you threw up on yourself and went crying to Will to fix it.

...rant over.

First scene Episode 1. Gives me more Mads fighting in a suit (I need psychological help) always love that. Lecter and Jack are trying to kill each other and then the plot insults me by jumping back twelve weeks. When Jack and Lecter are still friends. They're both bummed about Will being a serial killer and blaming Hannibal for the murders.

During this, we got to see the inside of a sea urchin (I desire the yellow spike ball meat) and it implied the Tuna meat Hannibal was sclicing up was a person. Like I don't know what fish meat looks like.

The whole event was very upsetting.

However, back at FBI headquarters, I was pleased to see Miranda! She's the internal Investigation lady.

Granted it's not the same character, but the vibes were there, now I need a Hannibal/Sex and the City crossover. Carrie and Lecter can go shopping and then eat Big. THE PLOT WRITES ITSELF. Anyway, Miranda, wants Jack to essentially throw Will to the wolves so the FBI doesn't have to take accountability for destroying his brain.

Also, there's like a guy sewing people together, so they form a giant eye to look at GOD, so GOD can look back at them. It looked really neat. Did not like watching a victim rip his own skin apart to escape. Loved the sequence of him running from the killer. Hannibal kills the guy, steals his leg, and sews him into his own body painting.

It's made abundantly clear that Hannibal believes himself to be god in this scene, and then he goes home and eats some tasty leg meat.

Episodes two and three focus on Will's trial, and everyone has opinions. Alana thinks Will did kill those people, but he did it in an unconscious state, and would not have done so otherwise. Jack is torn and can't decide if he pushed Will too hard and broke his brain, or if he's a highly intelligent psychopath who used the FBI as a cover. Will is in the trenches, trying to prove it's Hannibal. My opinion is that the hat Freddie wore to the trial is a sin against god and man. This woman wore the hat your Southern Baptist grandma wears.

In the smack-dab middle of this trial, another ear is delivered to the court. The ear belongs to the bailiff, who is found super dead. Jack is thrilled because this means someone may have done the killings, and he can avoid any responsibility for Will's mental state. I think I want Jack to get eaten. They try to work in this new murder as proof that Will is innocent, and the judge is not having it...that judge is then artfully murdered...

...but at least Will got a mistrial

Episode 4.

While all of this is going on, Will is at the same hospital Chilten runs. Chilten is somehow alive, after being turned into a slaughterhouse gift basket. He did lose a kidney but retained his brass balls because this man just keeps on being a massive douch nozzle. His new mission in life is to prove Will is a psychopath.

Will wants Beverly to look further into Hannibal, and she begrudgingly agrees.

Jack's wife confides in Hannibal that she wants to kill herself, due to the pain from her cancer. To which he agrees, and when she comes back later on the brink of death from a morphine overdose, HE FLIPS A COIN AND REVIVES HER. First of all, I thought he was gonna feed Jack his own wife. You know, for funsies.

Then Beverly finds human kidneys in Hannibal's fridge. Wait, there is more. THERE IS ALWAYS MORE ON THIS HIKE THROUGH SATAN'S LOWER INTESTINE. Beverly discovers a bunker under Hammibal's house. That she explores alone, I'm not surprised she had to be told to go upstream. We don't see what's in the bunker, but imagine it's not a Beanie Baby collection. Hannibal finds her and then cuts to black.

Im going to throw myself into an oven. I loved almost all of this, until next time. Stay safe, and do not eat the Tuna.

#hannibal #will graham #first time watch #horror #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #nbc hannibal #silence of the lambs

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twostepstyless · 1 year

Text

Bratwurst and Pancakes

Fic Advent Calendar Day 14

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Authors Note: Y/N and Harry go to the Christmas market to shop and eat, and Harry's jokes are a little too suggestive for a public setting.

As always, reblogs, likes and feedback of any and all varieties is appreciated and encouraged!! - G <3

Word Count: 1.7k

SFW

———

With her arm linked with Harry’s, he led the pair through the crowded Christmas market. There were people everywhere, to the stage where you weren’t really walking round the market but more like a stunted shuffle. The light snowfall certainly fit the theme of the Christmas market, the sky coloured by the glowing lights from the rides and stalls as well as the overwhelming scent of cinnamon and food in the air that made their mouths water. They were suitably wrapped up, so they were protected from the biting chill of the air, heavy coats, scarves, and hats also let the pair fly under the radar while they were surrounded by hundreds of people.

“Shit, s’a bit busy, innit?” Harry gripped onto Y/N’s arm so they wouldn’t get separated in the heaving bottleneck of the entrance to the markets.

“It looks a bit clearer ahead, once we get through this bit,” she cosied in close to his side as he fought through the crowd into the opening of the stalls.

“Fucking hell,” Harry said as they were no longer surrounded by bodies and finally had a little bubble of personal space around them.

“It’s nearing minus 1 and I’m all sweaty from being with all those people,” Y/N whined, unfastening her coat for a bit to let the cool air permeate through her layers and cool her down. “It’s not even like, sexy sweat, it’s the gross clammy, hair clapped to my head and sticky skin kind of sweaty,” Y/N’s face scrunched in disgust as she fanned herself with her hand.

“Sexy sweat?” Harry asked, laughing as he unlinked her arm from his only to take a hold of her hand instead as they began to walk in the direction of all the vendors, Christmas music blasting through the air.

“You get sexy sweat a lot,” Y/N continued as Harry looked bemused, “when you’re post show, or post run, or post sex,” she wiggled her eyebrows, saying the last one under her breath. “You look all flushed, and y’skin gets all glowy and… I need to stop, it’s too early and too public for this sort of conversation,” Y/N stopped herself, trying to push the images of a sweaty Harry from her brain before she demanded they go home early.

“Hm, sexy sweat, I’ll remember that one,” Harry said, an air of arrogance present in his tone, before he flipped back to his soft self, “do you want to look round the stalls first or are you hungry, my heart?” Harry tucked their joined hands in his coat pocket. Y/N had forgotten her gloves and complained that she was going to get frostbite in her fingertips and that turned into a what if Harry didn’t love her anymore when she only had fingers up to her first knuckle and minimal use of her thumbs left. So, Harry stripped off his left glove so she could wear it while he wore the right hand one and tucked their bare, intertwined hands into his coat pocket.

“Stalls first? Means we can work up an appetite so we can try more of the food,” Y/N planned for them as Harry nodded before they began the maze of pop-up stalls.

***

“D’you think m’mum would like that?” Y/N asked pointing to a hand-painted nutcracker figurine, as Harry joined her back at the stall, he had left to get them two cups of warm mulled wine to heat them up as they really began to feel the cold. He handed her both cups as his fingers attached to her coat to fasten it back up for her to keep her warm. They had already wandered round a lot of the pop-up shops, having ended up buying an extra Christmas present for nearly everyone while they shopped. Y/N had managed to bolt back to the artisan who made handbound leather journals, that Harry was besotted by, to get him one of his Christmas while he got their drinks.

“Yeah, she’s already got one, hasn’t she? Could make it a pair for her,” Harry said as Y/N nodded as she pointed out to the vendor and artist which one she would like, as they began to wrap it up for the couple as Y/N paid.

***

“I wish the shop bought mulled wine tasted as good as the ones you get at the markets but it’s jus’ not the same,” Y/N took a drink from the little paper cup that was now heating her one bare hand.

“Also saw a stand that sold Bailey’s Hot Chocolate when I was getting these, can get one after if you want?” Harry joined their hands again as they stopped to look at a stall that sold wooden children’s toys.

“Sounds like you’re trying to get me drunk, H,” Y/N laughed.

“For some reason, I don’t think you can get smashed on mulled wine and a spiked hot chocolate, but m’not opposed to a trip to the pub after this,” Harry drank down his mulled wine, the spices doing wonders for clearing his sinuses before he got distracted by a little wooden train toy that was built out of letters to spell a name. Harry had one of these as a child that sat on his bedroom windowsill and the toy was making him nostalgic, he wonders if his Mum still has it, he’d like it for his desk at home.

“Who even are we? Going out, out, what will it be next?” Y/N said playfully.

“Speaking of going out out, maybe we shouldn’t bother with the pub tonight, I’ve just remembered I’ve planned something for Friday, two nights in one week is a bit heavy for us,” Harry laughed as he began to lead them to the next stall, selling bags of potpourri filled with cinnamon sticks, and pinecones and dried slices of orange, filling the air with the most delicious aroma.

“What are y’up to?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him as Harry looked over his shoulder at his girlfriend before shrugging.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, sweetness. I’ll take one of these,” he picked up one of the bags filled with the lovely smells and handed over a bank note to the employee, shrugging off his change. He loved the smell of Christmas and couldn’t wait to have his home reeking of it.

“You’re being sneaky, and I don’t think I like it,” Y/N scowled, not a bit pleased he was keeping a secret from her.

“If I promise you that you’ll enjoy it, will you give me a little smile,” Harry pouted, but when Y/N’s face didn’t move an inch, he took matters into his own hands as his fingers quickly darted to her sides to tickle her as a shriek of laughter left her lips causing a few people turn round to look at the playful couple.

“Okay, okay,” Y/N tried to catch her breath, holding his hands away from her body.

“There’s that little smile,” Harry grinned, leaning forward to press a kiss on the corner of her upturned lips.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. M’starving now, can we eat?” Y/N spun on her foot to head over to the food vendors as Harry followed her with a breathy laugh.

***

They walked up and down, surveying what each stand hand, before splitting a portion of hot soup as their first course of their stall tasting menu, they had decided to partake in. Deciding to give ratings for each course. So far the mulled wine was a full marks 5 and the soup a 3 and a half.

“Do y’think they’ve got one of those German sausage stands?” Y/N’s eyes flitted round the bright lights trying to see any sign of the word Wurst on the menu boards.

“I’m not sure about German sausages, but there’s certainly an English one you can have a nibble on,” Harry spoke, his voice unwavering and deadly serious but as Y/N’s head whipped round to him, she saw the glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Harry!! That’s fucking disgusting,” Y/N slapped her gloveless hand over Harry’s mouth as hew jaw dropped to gape at him, but she was also desperately trying to hold back the cackle of laughter that tried to escape her, desperately trying not to encourage him. “There are kids around,” she pointed out, keeping her hand firmly over his lips, but she could feel his mouth twitching in a grin under her palm. Then he licked her. A big, slobbery stripe, licked across her palm as she pulled her hand away, “Harry, don’t be gross,” she whined.

“What?” he cackled, “baby, I’ve spat in your mouth at your own request before, I don’t think me licking your palm is any worse than that,” he smirked.

She gave him a deadpan expression.

“Look,” he pointed to another food stand, that was actually selling sausages. “I was only saying they have Cumberland and Lincolnshire sausage, not my fault if your mind is filth,” Harry pointed to the menu board.

“That’s not what you meant, and you know it,” she felt her face heat.

“Aw don’t go all shy, love, I happen to love your filthy mind,” he pulled her close, so to the public they looked like they were holding each other in a close embrace, but Harry was leaving wet kisses and light sucks to her neck, just enough to tinge the skin a slightly different colour.

“You’re spoiling for a fight,” Y/N mumbled, knowing he could hear her.

“I’m spoiling for somethin’ alright,” he broke away from the home he made in her neck. “How about, we go get some more food, then I’ll buy you those mini pancakes you like, top it off with a Baileys Hot Chocolate, then we’ll go home, and I’ll spit in your mouth again jus’ how y’like it, hm?” Harry asked, his voice low so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.

“You’re annoying,” Y/N stated, as Harry smirked at her.

“Little bit, but y’love me,” he shrugged.

“That’s debatable, now go get me my bratwurst and pancakes.”

———

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smurphyse · 1 year

Text

Lead Paint & Salt Air | Spencer Reid

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 of Routine Maintenance

Warnings: mentions of Diana's death (not explicit), mini-PTSD flashback for Spencer, Spencer's horny and lonely, also cranky.

Summary: After two years on the road, Spencer breaks down in Thunderbird, California. In only a few hours he meets some of the most eclectic townspeople of his life when all he wants is some peace and quiet.

(Note: Because of the nature of this fic, being inspired by one of my favorite bands, the chapters will be a bit longer than usual to fit with the vibe of the song they're named after <3)

After he was released from Milburn, Spencer’s mother passed in her sleep. It was blessedly quick and painless for her, and though it tore him apart he was grateful at least for that. Finally, Spencer had nothing pressing tying him to D.C., and he followed Gideon’s lead so many years later. Buying a Jeep and taking to the road, Spencer lived out of a suitcase as he’d done for years.

Instead of searching for serial killers, he began a long search for himself.

For two years now, he’d asked miles of pavement and yellow dashed paint who he was. He questioned the night sky and the morning sun over countless towns and cities. He’d even asked the mountaintops and hillsides, and yet he had found no answer.

Spencer started drinking again. It seemed the thing to do in shitty motel rooms and dive bars, putting on a few pounds with each greasy dish that accompanied his bourbon. The bags under his eyes were no longer from a lack of sleep - though he still didn’t get much because of the nightmares - but instead they stained his skin from the exhaustion of that ever-present question in his mind.

Is this who I am now?

Am I broken? Am I beyond salvation? Am I as worthless and lonely as I feel every single fucking day?

It all started when he tried to strangle a pregnant Cat Adams in an interrogation room. He slid down the cold concrete wall in a prison too much like the one he’d been released from when it first erupted through his brain like a bullet. One question led to another… and another and another, but they always started with that one.

Is this who I am now?

At this point, he was sure he’d never find the answer. Instead, he’d contented himself with wandering, exploring all that America currently had to offer. One day he’d move internationally, maybe go back to Paris where he’d spent time with his mother.

He’d happened upon Thunderbird, California early that morning. Worried he was lost forever in the Cali wilderness, Spencer followed the rising sun through winding forest roads as it streamed through the trees. After a few hours cautiously eyeing the offshutes of paths and trails, he finally burst into civilization.

It was a tiny beach town. A handful of buildings littered the main street, string lights connecting them along with the wind-blown piles of sand scattering along the road. Houses haphazardly were plopped along the varying hills that hid it from the outside world, but it was beautiful.

The shops on the main strip were brightly painted, handmade signs reading Billy’s Bait and Go!, Sue Says Sew, and Gil’s Grocery proudly proclaiming strangely named stores that gave little question for what they did to service the town. Spencer had yet to spot a normal chair on the porches outside- they were all either beach chairs or porch swings swaying in the light breeze.

Sunday was the Fourth of July, and the town was in full patriotic mode. Red, white, and blue windmills and flags sprung up from nearly every lawn. A fireworks stand was smack dab in the middle of a roundabout in the center of town, with a few people hurrying across the curved road to it. A man in an oversized Uncle Sam hat handed out sparklers to the kids, smiling wider than the sun.

Spencer spent the morning in the town diner, Bean There, looking out the large window as the small town came to life. It was apparently known for its local coffee. Spencer had to admit it was good, on the top ten list he’d tried in his travels. Though the best coffee had been found in a China Town shop in lower Indiana, which he was loath to admit.

He sat in a booth in the corner, people watching as the crowds picked up and petered out. All sorts of people filtered through the door as they used the diner as a waystation before heading out to the rest of their days. In a town of less than five hundred, any outsider was noticed immediately, and Spencer was no different. Nearly every person who came in eyeballed his Jeep on the way through the door and squinted at Spencer before ordering. He didn’t mind, he was used to being the outsider, had been his whole life.

He picked at a plate of waffles and bacon, holding a book loosely in one hand as he enjoyed the morning sunlight through the window. His waitress, Michelle, had given him a side-eye after his first hour, unsure what to make of him. He simply tipped her early, going with a twenty-five percent tip of what he’d already ordered. She was much more amenable after that, mostly leaving him alone but checking in periodically with a smile and a refill.

His hair was still long. He had refused to cut it, even after JJ's insistence over video chats. He liked it, especially liked these new trends of men finally getting to put their hair in a bun. He liked the look, and had been enamored with the Nordic styles he read of in his youth, braiding and intricate knots decorated with silver and beads. He missed those days in Earth’s history.

He wore a pair of jeans and a purple flannel shirt with his boots. Though he often preferred suits, this style had appealed to him greatly in his early days on the road. He’d been called a “hipster” more times than he cared to admit, but he felt strong in his fashion choices. He knew he looked good, and Spencer had long since gotten used to the beard. Shaving on the road was hard and without the dress code constrictions of the BAU, he was happy to grow it out.

“Hey, Honey!” Michelle chuckled from behind the counter as the front door swung open. It chimed in greeting as two people stepped through and into the cool air-conditioned building. Spencer tried not to stare at the woman, but he’d spent a good long time on the road and it had been a while… and she was gorgeous.

Her hair poofed around her shoulders, eyes alight with an animated excitement. Copper toned muscles peeked out of a tank top and tight jeans, a red flannel tied around her hips as she sauntered into the diner. She had her arm looped around an older man’s waist, who hugged her tightly back before letting go as they approached the counter.

He had a clearly visible Ranger tattoo on his bicep, both of which were bigger than Spencer’s head. With his slicked back salt and pepper curls and giant frame, Spencer knew he wanted nothing to do with being on that man’s bad side.

“Mornin’, Chelle,” she smiled, easing into the stool across from the waitress. The man stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders, looking curiously around the diner as many patrons had that morning. His gaze landed on Spencer, who quickly glanced out the window to avoid his hard stare. "How's it going?"

“Oh, you know how it goes- a flirt here, a proposal there,” Michelle jokingly lamented as she pulled two mugs out from under the bar. She snagged the carafe from the coffee maker and filled them before sliding them across the counter.

“Oof,” the man chuckled heartily, finally tearing his dark eyes from Spencer and to her. “Sounds exhausting.”

“You joke all you want, Rose Delgado,” Michelle scolded, her playful smirk turning to a hard glare. She pointed at him, “I am a catch and everyone here knows it.”

Rose held up his hands in defeat, “My bad, Chelle. You’re absolutely right. If I were a few years younger I’d try for your hand too.”

“Who says you can’t?” she quipped with a wink, and Rose went bright red.

He dragged an awkward hand across the back of his neck and laughed, "Huh, well, I think Mattie May might have a problem with that."

The women laughed along with him, and Michelle tapped the counter lightly with her fingers, "I'll put your usual in. Extra powdered sugar, right, Honey?"

The girl referred to now forever in Spencer's brain as Honey nodded, licking her lips. "It's gonna be a long day, Chelle. Give me as much coke as you got."

Rose smacked the top of her head in jest, and Honey looked up to stick her tongue out at him. She glanced over at Spencer as he slid out of the booth, and even as he made his way over to the counter to pay she never averted her gaze. A gold ring was tied to a string necklace around her neck, and it was all Spencer had not to follow it to where the pendant rested between her boobs.

"You drive that Jeep outside?" Rose grumbled as he approached. Michelle came back up to the counter as Spencer tugged his wallet out of his pocket.

He handed her more than enough for his meal and another tip, then nodded, "Yeah, that's mine."

"Your axle is about to crack. You should get it looked at."

"I'll do that," Spencer replied politely. He was used to strangers telling him things he didn't really need to do by now. They often took one look at him and deemed him an academic, which wasn't wrong, but to them it usually meant he couldn't take care of things himself.

"Here's your change, baby," Michelle interrupted, reaching across the counter with a ten in one hand and a to-go cup of joe in the other. Rose stared at him, as did Honey, but Spencer just shook his head at the waitress.

"Keep it. Thanks for letting me keep your booth for a few hours."

He swept up the cup, gave her a nod and turned on his heel out the door. She laughed to herself and shouted after him, "Come back soon!

"Boy tips real good," he heard her just before the door closed behind him. "He can live in that booth if he wants."

Spencer smiled to himself as he hopped in the jeep. This was a nice town, but he'd been through a lot of nice towns. He had to keep moving, searching, coming up with a reason for leaving his friends behind to worry about him.

He decided to see the beach before going back through the trees. He wanted to see Oregon, but his phone didn't work so well in these isolated parts of the state so he'd have to buy a map somewhere. He made note of the lone gas station in town, then followed the signs to the sand.

It was early, but there were people in the water. Spencer wasn't much for swimming, so he parked his jeep in the small lot and pulled a blanket out of the back. He found a secluded spot on a hill, unfurled the blanket and sat down. He took off his flannel and shoes, leaning back to enjoy the view.

The sounds of shrieking laughter and the waves lulled him into complacency as he sipped his coffee. The sun was hot, but not too bad for this early in the morning. Unlike DC, this area wasn't humid, and the soft winds off the water cooled his skin.

Is this who I am now? Popped into his mind, always at the worst times. Once upon a time, he was a strong and capable man, an elite FBI agent always willing to go the extra mile. Now, even sitting here exhausted him. Speaking to the townsfolk at the counter exhausted him, and all he wanted to do was have a drink and go to sleep.

Is this who I am now? He wondered. Am I the guy who has nowhere to go and nowhere to be except the road, running far away from my past and the pain that follows?

He supposed so. Being out here hurt less than sitting in his empty apartment, looking into the void of his missing heart and wondering just when exactly his life passed him by. He always thought he’d have a family, kids and a wife by now. He thought he’d have a house and people to depend on him, that he’d love and they’d never wonder if it was out of obligation or a bond from trauma like it had been with the BAU.

Sure, they called him every week or so, just to see if he was okay. Their voices were always laced with concern, but a dripping tiredness of having to worry about the kid. Spencer hadn’t been a kid in a long time, and with each new trauma their babying of him became just another weight added to his shoulders. Another reason to prove himself.

It never worked.

Deciding it was time to go, time to run away again, Spencer dragged himself away from the beach and its false allure of peacefulness. He rolled up the blanket and put it back in its usual spot in the back of the jeep, put his coffee in the cupholder and he was off again.

Coming up the bend from the beach, he spotted a pothole one second too late. The back wheel slammed into it with a loud crunch, and before he knew it the back of the jeep collapsed into the sand-dusted street.

“Oh, goddamnit,” he grunted, punching the passenger seat in irritation.

Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket, and sure enough he had zero reception. He groaned and let his head fall back on the headrest, his eyes shutting. Sucking in a deep breath, Spencer counted to five before letting it go.

“Yer axle’s cracked!” a voice came from the side, and when Spencer opened his eyes he spotted a beat up truck next to him on the road. It had cans dangling from the sides on old fishing line and other random trash piled up in the back, a boat hitched to the back of it.

An old grizzled man leaned heavily out the window, pointing at the back of the jeep and nodding, “Yep, y’ain’t goin’ nowhere, son.”

“Yeah,” Spencer snapped, furrowing his brows at him. “I noticed.”

“Ain’t no need to take a tone with me, boy,” the man grumbled. He pointed a gnarled finger at Spencer that shook in the air. “I’mma help you.”

Spencer didn’t have a lot of faith that his twisted tree limb of a man was going to be much help to him, so he waved his cell phone at him. “I’m sorry. Can I borrow your phone so I can call a tow truck?”

The man frowned with an exaggerated bottom lip and shook his head animatedly, “I ain’t got one of them things! Ya think I want brain cancer or somethin’?”

“Uhm… no?” Spencer began, but he cut him off with a beckoning hand.

“No. I don’t,” the man nodded firmly. “C’mon, I’ll take ya up to Rose’s place.”

Spencer groaned internally at the name he’d heard this morning. It was the same squinting old man who told him the axle was about to crack in the first place. Then he brightened up at the thought of getting to see Honey and her tight tank top again.

“I ain’t got all day, son. I’m busy, y’see,” the man called, breaking through his thoughts. Spencer nodded to himself and turned off the jeep before getting out and snagging his suitcase from the back seat.

He rounded the truck only to open the creaky door and find almost an entire carton of cigarette packs littering the floorboards, along with a variety of loose tools and nails. Spencer climbed into the cab and closed the door behind him, setting the suitcase on his lap. It was a travel size, just big enough for a week’s worth of clothes and shoes. He kept his toiletries in another bag in the back of his car.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said softly. “Sorry for snapping. It’s been a bit of a day for me.”

The man chuckled, a little choked huffing sound from deep in his throat. “It’s been a bit of a day for everyone, son. It’s only nine in the mornin’!”

Deciding it was better to scoff in his mind and not at this weird stranger driving him through town, Spencer nodded. The brightly colored shops passed them by as the man drove at a snail’s pace, stopping for the allotted three seconds at each stop sign and never using his blinker.

“Name’s Nell, by the by,” the old man declared suddenly, jerking Spencer out of his reverie of the town. “Not that you asked. What’s yer story, son?”

“Uh, I’m Spencer,” he said slowly. Awkwardly. “I’m just traveling.”

“That’s a sheht story. No pizzazz, no flare. Ain’t you got stories where yer from?”

How do you like dead mutilated bodies? He wondered. Spencer laughed quietly and made sure to stare straight ahead. Nell’s eyes flicked quickly to his each time he looked over, and the truck veered with them.

“I’m not much of a storyteller, Nell.”

“Shame,” Nell muttered, his top lip twitching as he seemed to think very hard about that. “Puppy dog eyes like that, you could get a peach and a half to follow you home if you could string a good yarn.”

Spencer struggled to follow that metaphor, so he just gave a noncommittal hum. The thought of a man who looked like Nell referring to a woman as a ‘peach’ left a bad taste in his mouth.

"You ever been this way up before?"

"Nope. Just passing through on my way to Oregon."

"Ah, sheht," Nell grumbled. He slapped the steering wheel and pointed at nothing. "Oregon ain't got nothin' on Thundabird! I came here after 'Nam and never looked back!"

Spencer thanked God that Rossi didn't talk like this, not that fighting in Vietnam caused mushmouth, but he was getting irritated.

"Lotsa people round here just showed up. Never left. It's a town of strays, y’know? Might find somethin' purty and never wanna leave like I did."

"Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, not really paying much attention. He gazed longingly out the window and decided he could have walked faster than Nell drove.

"Met my Bernie and never could leave. She’s purtier than a seagull at sunset, I swear it.”

“You have any kids?”

“Nah, she’s small. Not much more’n me can fit in there most of the time.”

Spencer made a face and turned to him, disgusted, “What?”

Nell leaned forward and rubbed a hand across the dash of his nasty truck, “She’s small, but she’s a beaut! All I ever needed.”

Thankfully, they finally made their way up to the diner. Delgado’s lay catty corner to it, right next to a small inn called The Thunderbird Inn. Spencer got the hell out of Bernie as fast as he could and waved a hand to Nell. “Thanks for the ride, Nell. It’s been a trip.”

“Anytime, son!” Nell chuckled manically, and it was all Spencer had not to grimace. He pulled out of the small driveway slower than molasses, almost hit a stop sign, then rumbled down the street.

Spencer took a steadying breath and shook his head before going into the mechanic's shop. A small reception area stood in the front, the smell of grease and exhaust puffing in from the door leading through the garage. There was a window in front of a desk where a small woman sat in a headscarf. She wore a brightly colored floral shirt, her braids piled high above her head as she gave him a small wave.

"How ya doing, baby?" she asked with an easy grin. The tension in Spencer's shoulders from talking to Nell eased in just one look at that smile. There was also something about an older black lady calling him ‘baby’ in a soft voice that made him feel better for some reason.

"Uhm, my car broke down," Spencer said, pointing behind him.

She nodded, "I'm Mattie May. Rose told me you might be making your way here."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Spencer snarked, rolling his eyes.

"Don't take it personal," Mattie May hushed. She stood and rounded the corner, then waved for him to follow. "Man's got a sixth sense about cars. In fact, I first met him when I broke down on the side of the road outside of town."

Spencer followed Mattie May behind the counter and into a small kitchen area. He eyeballed the fridge as she puttered around. Pictures of Rose, Mattie May, and Honey littered the front. Some had group photos with a few of the eclectic townsfolk he'd run into already, others with people he didn't know.

"He asked me to dinner before fixing my car. I fell head over heels and never looked back. Moved here a few months later." She pulled out a fresh pot of coffee and poured him some in a brightly colored mug with flowers on it, then one for herself. "You take sugar, baby?"

"Lots of it," he muttered, leaning down to look at more of the photographs. "This town's like the Bermuda triangle, huh?"

"For lost souls… yeah, I guess it is," she said softly. Her skin glimmered under the fluorescent lighting, dark and beautiful against the bright purples and pinks of her shirt and beaming smile. "You lost?"

Spencer stood up sharply, suddenly rocked with defensiveness. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "How long do you think the repairs will take?"

Mattie May clicked her teeth and sighed, then handed him the mug. "Rose will have to tell you that. If he doesn't have the parts you can stay at the inn. I'll have Honey make you up a room."

Spencer took a sip. It was fantastic, obviously from the same beans the diner used. "Is she your daughter? I saw her with Rose at the diner."

"We've definitely taken to her like she is. Another stray that showed up a while back and never wanted to leave."

"Do people who come here ever leave?" he snarked, flashing her a look.

"People land where they need to. Sometimes that's here."

"I'd like to get the hell out of here as fast as possible. No offense."

Mattie May smirked at him and leaned against the counter, "None taken."

"Axle cracked, huh?" a familiar deep voice came from behind them. Spencer looked to find Rose leaning over the front counter and watching him expectantly.

"Right in half."

"Hmmm," he grunted, nodding to himself. "I'll send out Rico."

"The man's got somewhere to be, Rose," Mattie May said, waving her cup at her husband. "How long will it take to repair?"

Rose pushed himself off the counter with a sigh. He ran a hand over his face as he ambled slowly into the small kitchen, then shrugged. "I don't have that model in stock as nobody in town drives it. Could take a month for the parts to come in."

"A month?" Spencer asked sharply. He set the cup down harder on the counter than he meant to, and it hit with a clatter. "I can't sit around here for a month."

“Or more.” Rose shrugged, "UPS only comes through here once a month by boat. It's too hard to get through the mountains."

"Where you off to in such a hurry?" Mattie May asked softly. She set a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft squeeze. "If you gotta be somewhere soon, I'm sure we can find you a ride."

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck roughly in irritation. "Nowhere. I just don't like sitting in one place too long."

"You some sorta drifter?" Rose asked, eyeing him with a hard glare. Spencer was sure he looked the part with his old flannel, messy hair, beard and battered boots, but he didn’t like the thought after his previous line of work.

Spencer glared right back, his jaw set tightly. Mattie May blew out a breath and gave him another squeeze before letting her hand fall from his shoulder. “It might do you good to sit still for a while, then. C’mon, baby, I’ll take you over to Honey and we’ll get you a room.”

Mattie May steered him around Rose and out the front door. A loud boom! Made him jerk away from her and flinch from the sound. A few errant pop pop pops followed, and when he heard her soft laughter he looked up to see kids lighting fireworks in the street.

His vision dragged, his blood pounded in his ears as he tried to convince himself he was fine. He wasn’t being blown up, and he wasn’t at Everett Lynch’s home. Mattie May’s voice ripped him sharply to the present as she called to them.

“Y’all go somewhere else and do that! People are tryin’ to work!”

Their shoulders deflated and they nodded, “Yes, Mrs. Delgado!”

She shook her head and chuckled, turning back to Spencer. He stared at the charred spot on the pavement where the firecrackers had erupted, chest heaving as the acrid scent of burnt embers flooded his nose.

“You okay, baby?”

Spencer found himself turning toward her kind voice, his eyes wet and suddenly more tired than he’d been in months. “Yeah. I’m… I’m not a big fan of the fourth of July.”

“The firecrackers?” she asked. He nodded. “Did you serve?”

“Uh, no ma’am.” He didn’t want to tell her anything about the FBI. Since leaving, Spencer hadn’t told anyone that he used to be an agent. What he’d become was too shameful.

“Holly Henson isn’t much for it either since he came back from Iraq, neither is Rose. I bought them some noise canceling headphones for this time of year. I have an extra pair.”

“I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

She led him into the front of The Thunderbird Inn, where Honey sat behind the reception desk with a young man Spencer hadn't met yet. He was tall and about her age, near thirty, leaning over the counter and smirking at her. His easy going grin and good looks reminded him of Luke, as did his dark closely cropped hair.

"I'm serious, Honey. It'll be fun."

Honey lounged in a roller chair and crossed her hands behind her head, "I'm not going to the bar on the fourth. I'll end up having Lionel and Ritchie pawing all over me and looking down my shirt."

The man peeked a little further over and grinned, "I'd tell you to wear a different shirt, but I can't exactly blame them for trying to sneak a peek."

Honey sat up sharply and slapped at him, and he jumped back with a mad laugh. She looked over his shoulder and her eyes brightened as she saw Spencer. "Axle cracked, huh, big tipper?"

Spencer squinted at her and nodded. Mattie May laughed and put a hand on his shoulder, "He needs a room for the night, Honey. Rico, Rose is lookin' for you. You gotta go tow this young man's car."

She turned to him, "I never caught your name."

"Spencer. Spencer Reid."

Rico eyed him the way Rose and every other person in this town seemed to, "Your axle cracked?"

Spencer sighed in pure exasperation. “Yes.”

Rico glanced back at Honey, who shrugged and made a face. He made his way toward the door, watching Spencer. His shoulder bumped Spencer's as he passed and then he was gone, Mattie May following closely behind.

"I got Room 4 open, Mr. Reid," Honey said playfully as Spencer glared out the door where Rico went. He looked up to see her dangling an ancient key attached to a little green tag with the inn name on it. "Follow me."

Spencer followed her and her tight jeans down a hallway to the left. The inn was a big square, two levels, with only a handful of rooms on the first floor. Honey took him to the center where the rooms met in the middle of the curved hallway. A door across from his had a sign on it that read Management on the front in faded gilded lettering and a doorbell on the side.

"Dinner’s at six. I'll bring you a plate," she said absentmindedly as she fiddled with the door. She clasped the handle and tugged up as she turned the lock. "Door sticks, and there's a patio out back where we usually have a bonfire this time of year. If it's too loud, let me know."

The door opened with a crack, and she pushed it open for him to step inside. The room was small and airy, wide broad windows that had a view of the far off ocean and palm trees. Spencer spotted boats and people in the water as he stepped up to them to look out. The tulle cottony curtains swayed with the breeze through the cracked door, and without much thought Spencer shut and locked it.

The bedspread was a bright sky blue with matching pillows. The walls were painted off-white, with pictures of the beach and the town plastered all over, much like Mattie May’s fridge and the reception areas of both businesses. Spencer dug into his pocket as he looked around with hardly disguised disdain and pulled out his wallet. He handed his credit card to Honey, but she just stared at him.

“Don’t you need this?”

“First night’s on Lionel. He was supposed to fix that pothole weeks ago.”

Spencer squinted at her, “How do you know I hit a pothole?”

She smiled, wide and bright. “Saw you drive toward the beach. Townspeople know to avoid it.”

“Good to know,” he grumbled, stuffing his card back into his wallet. “Is there a phone I can use?”

“Mmm, most people here don’t have cell phones. Providers don’t get great service around here, but there’s a landline on the nightstand.”

Spencer nodded, looking to where she pointed. “Internet?”

Honey laughed, but when she saw him watching her sternly she stopped. “Oh, you’re serious. There’s Collie’s Cafe down the street. It’s dial-up but it’ll get you what you need for a dime every ten minutes.”

“God this place really is the Bermuda Triangle,” he groaned, rubbing his face roughly with his hands. “Does everyone have a weird name here?”

Honey put her hands on her hips and made a face, “Who’s got a weird name?”

Spencer just glared.

Honey broke out into a creeping slow smile and nodded to herself. “You’re not a lot of fun, are you, Mr. Reid?”

“You can call me Spencer.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. She tapped her jaw and watched him, “This is a nickname kinda town. You stay here long enough and you’ll get one too.”

“I hope to God that doesn’t happen,” he said irritably. “If Honey’s not your real name, do you mind if I ask what it is?” “Y/N,” she replied with a grin. “Call me that and we’ll have a problem.”

“I don’t want any problems, Honey,” Spencer snarked back. “I just want to leave Margaritaville and go to Oregon.”

Honey bit her lip and smiled before turning on her heel and walking toward the door. She lingered for a moment with her hand on the knob, obviously chewing on something in her mind. Sucking in a breath, she glanced his way once more and said in a soft voice, “Maybe your problem is that you can’t enjoy where you’re at, Spencer. Maybe you should take a breather.”

Before he could angrily reply, she closed the door behind her. It didn’t fit in the frame well, and he heard her little grunt as she pulled up on the knob to latch it shut. Shaking his head and letting out a pained breath, Spencer hoisted his suitcase up and tossed it on the bed, grateful to be alone again. He plopped down next to it, elbows on his knees as he looked around, and that question popped into his head again.

Is this who I am now?

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Notes: PLEASE tell me what you think... this series is so close to my heart. What do you think of the townspeople we've met so far? Reader/Honey? Sad!Spencer??

CM Forever Tag:

@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore

@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye

@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid

132 notes · View notes

lizaluvsthis · 4 months

Note

what is good about cnb? i see lots of a art thought i ask creator

Oh my- looks like we pulled a new curious person off the peeps!

(CnB) Coffee N' Bombs - Brewing Romance AU is an inspiration from the first full episode in the SMG4 Channel called "SMG4: SMG3'S BOMB CAFE"

I really liked the whole model and details from the inside and outside of Three's new Cafe and at first I've been picturing about Smg4 working there- but nahh he just worked there once its not like theres gonna be an au abou-

I came in tumblr a few months back and some anon asked me what kind of design SMG4's attire would be since he works as a waitress from Three's coffee n bombs.

For a second my mind went blank of what the uniform would look like so- I gave myself on and on about some few details getting inspired by watching some other episodes of SMG4's

So then- I made the hat and I thought of something that reminded me about- a reversible color!

(A few years back I bought this octopus which was cute and then I figured it was reversible by looking underneath and putting the detail here- I was like- ah Liz you're gonna make it look so special!)

Straight in to detail that the fabric used from this hat is silk, with polkadots! And it was made by Three :>

For the pride pins I also thought of- "hey- this is a crazy idea but what if I also created a pride pin next to his apron. But instead it's a bomb than just a regular circular pin." Then there represents Four having the bi bomb flag :)

The Apron is specifically made by me on which where its all gotta be purple themed since it is his cafe and everything is purple and purple to a color black!

For the shoes tho- I might've gave myself a try to say it's one of those glow in the dark classic shoes- glow in the dark has been my favorite types of stuff to look on or even paint, the nostalgic vibe of being a small kid having fun observing and using glow in the dark (bracelets) for example- is like a funny thing and a classic thing to have.

Then that calls for it. "Heck why not?"

Theres the bomb logo and also the spilled coffee logo, it was designed by our man Three to himself.

It feels sort of childish to put in when four complains about glow in the dark having it as a childish thing- good thing three back fires in about his shoes having wheels XD (it might seem to be for kids but its all for ages and above ^^)

The gloves were designed for funziez and making it feels like getting sent back on the themed black and white (sia or melanie martinez the hair color or if you fancy it enough going back to the earliest movies that has black and white colors)

Even putting on a aymbol of "S.U.L." on the back of the gloves and Four's "IV" roman numeral signature on the palm of his gloves.

And even for the tiniest detail from his hairtie having the color of red and his slit pants on the ends. (Also including the part of the three-beaned pin that only four made it special for him and three only)

Lets put up the post!

This inspired so much from the design that my followers or other people had want to try it out!

Then coming upon the reply from @shygirl4991 therefore the AU was born/created, they thought about wanting to write about this cafe au and I let them in for ideas and for writing the fic. :D

I pulled out a new attire for Three's outfit (ngl he looks like purp-

And now there is- the release of the first chapter-

Before the first chapter- Shay gave it a title of "Brewing Romance" since its a silly fic for these two gay boys working together on the cafe :>

Again I'm only an artist who does doodles or design stuff the real person who created this is @shygirl4991 by mentioning it as "Cafe AU" thats where it's been born :)

CnB Brewing Romance AU is a fun space for our two fruits getting together and such ^^ this AU is made for fun relating to also the cafe shop itself.

(We'd also like to thank you for all of the artists who made those lovely fanarts <3)

To the point where I accidentally created a meme out of the two.

Man behind the coffee/memes (slaughter) as smg3

And the Fish Flounder as Smg4

If people would like to put their ocs there for fun you can make art out of it.

(Shoot I'm making it longer- AHHGGR)

Whats cnb br au?

Its a silly au me and shay made and made it alive for the shippers

Whats good about it?

The two gay boys

The designed details from their attires

Karen.

Bringing from the fic for angst/fluff

Whose Idea was the fic?

All on for Shay ^^

Who created it?

I did the design mostly people thought it was all on me but its shay's :)

When is the date of creation?

December 9, 2023

Can we make fanarts out of it?

Yes you can by mentioning/tagging me and @shygirl4991

Whats in it for this au?

Me and Shay collaborated this

These two boys

The whole ass journey and coming into developments

Karen?

Yes. She works here :) design of hers will come out soon tho.

What about the other characters like Mario?

Oh they will come out- as side characters only :>

Where does this AU focus on?

Dealing with trauma

Four getting a job since he's broke af

The past memories

Development - Chemistry

Changing.

How does putting our ocs in the au work?

You can put your oc for ex. Ordering, chilling on le table, sipping your coffee, idk pay for those bombs(?), commit arso-, selfie on yourself (if you have any other ocs you'd want to add- you can), pride bombs, make yourself as an employee i guess? All whatever your choices.

Except-

NSFW (or oc x canon <that has smg4 or smg3>)

(Pls dont be mistaken I dont like oc x canon- I only said no oc x SMG3/SMG4 cuz its a br au and the main focus is four and three being duperly inlove and sh-t TUT)

Spaghetti. Spaghetti is not available in a coffee shop.

Does this au contain with the canon events/arc?

It has the arc and event but it contains non-canon creation. Due to some remake of the scenes.

Did luke approved of this?/j

Not yet :)

I'm not even sure if he uses tumblr atp

Do you have any other works of yours and shay about this au?

I am planning on making a side fic that'll come out very soon

Theres a quick doodle/sketch about it

Some personal diary or info Three picks up (including sticky notes)

Shay is still working and doing their best for the future chapters 'u'

‽

What happens in the future chapter?

You'll have to wait and see. (Again I keep getting this even relating about zero that is a spoiler I'm not trying to be like gooseworx here pls stop-)

Wait what memes are you talking about?

Fnaf for Man behind the slaughter but instead it's SMG3 being the one whose purple guy and is called Man Behind The Coffee

Flounder from Ariel whose a fish and Four looked like one because of his ponytail looking like the fish's tail

What orders do they have in there?

Coffee:

Normal Coffee

Special White Mocha

Matcha Gun Powder Latte

Soy Boy Flat White

Al Pacino

Wake me up before you cocoaf

Morning Brown

Cyanide Supreme Latte

Titanium Black (trust me you don't want to try this)

café minuit (midnight)

Bombs:

Tsar Bomba

Hydrogen bomb

Fat man

Little Boy

Refined uranium

Saturnist Capurn

NUKE CHONK (DONT-)

Displays/Collections/Accessories:

Eggdog plush

Smg3 mugs

Pride Bombs

Stickers

A button. (Do it at your own risk)

Foodies/Food/Snacks:

Non-Donut (its invisible but more of an air food)

Gun powdered donut (white or brown)

Shinkled donut

Pieced- cake

Chompstick (chocolate stick)

Breed Bread (it has raisins)

KWASON (croissant)

Waffu Daffus (waffles)

DEADLY DUNGLE (its a spiciest donut I warned you.)

Nomul Chaki (a "normal" chocolate...)

Whats something that was mentioned from the design?

Terrance.

Did you plan on making this au?

Nope but for some reason we're here thanks to my artwork and shay :DD

Does PuzzleVision or TV Adware exist in this?

No.

Will the side characters make an appearance?

...

Is it true that Karen and Meggy both gossip about the boys?

Yep- kinda hilarious now that Karen's here, she observes.

Where'd you get that idea about Karen and Meggy?

@anartisticalniche

Where can I see the fanarts section?

In my Introduction Page :)

Why don't you post this to twitter?

Twitter is for talking/rants

Tumblr is to share the post you want to share.

Plus twitter for me is a "not-safe-app" regardless on people sending death threats and doxxing. (Even elon musk.)

I'm not tryna reach out for Luke's attention when it comes to CnB I just did this for fun :3

Are you still hyped that they're still making the cafe shop's appearance?

Yes. You have NO idea.

How do you and shay feel about it?

Very- super- brain- storming ideas on the gays and the plots also the notes- we love this progress ^^

The gayness/fruitiness of these two

Will you and Shay be planning on something more than just CnB?

Shh-

Funny to ask but how old are you while collaborating this work?

I'm a minor-

Don't you find it weird to be friends with adults? Or having them as your fans?

(I get these asks alot) my final answer is no.

There are some other adults who are predators out there but not in my sight. I keep a closer eye on that. And I don't allow pedos or groomers here.

I don't really see what the problem is about when an adult likes a minor's work. It's artwork and most of ems crave for the ship and the ship itself its basically a free fun type for people who likes it. (Age regressor say no more cuz its all free to have fun here)

I have no idea why I made this too long but please carry on your glasses people-

#lizaluv #smg34 #smg4 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #mario #smg3 coffee n bombs #shygirl4991

21 notes · View notes

xgummibearx · 1 year

Text

Officer Toyomitsu x Reader

(I learned that in vigilantes All Might inspired Taishiro to become a full fledged hero and he was basically the in hero working at the police station before opening the Fat office so I was mistaken in some of my info but...I really like the idea of him having started out as just an officer before becoming a hero so I'm gonna combine the vigilante canon with my own headcanons for this!)

You as the reader are in a hostage situation, and Taishiro knows that he can step in and end this but he is told to stand down. Can he save you at the last possible minute?

~~~~

There were spilled coffees and discarded snacks all over the floor. She kept her gaze lowered, knees gripped tight against her chest. The convenience store was dead, quiet except for the quietest whimpers and shudders of those around them. There was a group, all sitting together behind the shop counter. A hand slammed on the counter, a masked figure growling under his breath. "Silence!" He demanded, the phone was starting to ring. "Hello?" His voice was so calm, it made her blood run cold. "Oh, have you met my demands yet?" He hissed. She could just barely make out the voice on the other line.

"You are surrounded, we advise that you stand down now...those people are not your enemy, let them go and come quietly." The voice was insistent. "We can help you, we will protect you from the media, just please let them go!" The villain laughed, cursing under his breath. He sounded impressed.

"You've got guts I'll give you that." He was chuckling. "But, let the media see! What? You don't want them seeing the cowards that are protecting the world? YOU KNOW MY TERMS!" He roared, "I want ten thousand dollars cash and a truck, no police escort necessary of course." He added, sounding like he was proposing a casual business deal. "and I know where you guys put those tracking things so don't try anything funny." He added. "If I don't see that truck parked outside by nightfall I'll start painting the windows of this place red...one, by, one..." He hissed, hanging up.

Officer Toyomitsu cursed as the phone slammed in his ear. "Sir! He's really serious about this, how should we move forward?" His boss Officer Gi Masayoshi removed his hat. Running his hands along his balding head.

"I'm thinking...we may not have any other option but to meet his demands, I'm sure we can still try to bug the truck and we'll have officers stationed at every city exit!..." He looked at the disapproving stare at Taishiro's face. "Tai, you know there's no other choice! We can't risk sending in troops, he's a maniac! If we do this we can at least get the hostages home to their families!" Taishiro stood, Gi was already knowing what he was going to say.

"Sir, I've been training for this! I know that there's a back entrance that would allow for easy access, it would be an easy take down!" He insisted, a fire in his eyes. Gi shook his head.

"Taishiro, you aren't licensed for hero work..” He sighed, approaching him with a gentle hand. “Legally...you cannot use your quirk unless shots are fired or worse, and I don’t want it to come to that.” He looked furious. “Stupid policies...” He muttered.

"Yes sir..." Tai sat down with a furrowed brow. He hated this, this was the very reason he had joined the police force. "My quirk is too weak to be a real hero.." He thought, looking towards the store with worry. He couldn’t believe they were conceding to the terms of a monster like that.

The hours passed and they did as requested. The hardest part was the tracker. They had to overlook all the places they were trained to hide it, and instead sewed it inside the seat and sealed it away so perfectly no one would ever know. At least they hoped. Taishiro watched from behind the police barricades, orange lights illuminating the parking lot as the officers drove the large black truck in front of the store before quickly moving back to the police lines. “Where are you...” Taishiro muttered, his eyes fixed on the storefront. The windows were covered by store shelves and newspapers, he couldn’t see anything going on inside. Tensions were high, the hostages hardly dared to breathe as the man hung up the phone and then walked up and down the line of victims, who quickly lowered their gaze. Their eyes were all transfixed on the gun that rested lazily on his hip, the barrel glinting in the light outside. (x) looked up slowly, realizing that she was staring at his boots. As soon as their eyes met a hand gripped her hoodie. “You’ll do.” He had a tight grip on (x)’s arm as she was dragged along with him outside. The cool night air hit their faces as she looked around wildly, screaming as a gun was suddenly pressed to the side of her head. “NO ONE MOVE!” Taishiro grit his teeth, his eyes fixed on the masked figure then moved to the terrified woman. He looked towards Gi desperately, his hands twitching as Gi shook his head with a warning glance. Tai growled a little under his breath in annoyance, staring down the man as he slowly made his way around to get to the driver’s side. He was smiling as he opened the door slowly, “thank you all so much for your cooperation.” He suddenly tightened his grip, making her cry out. “I still don’t want you getting any ideas of following me...so why don’t little missy here and I go for a spin?” He sharply turned around, tossing the young woman into the truck and hopping in as he slammed the door shut. It only took seconds for him to start speeding away.

“CHIEF!!” Taishiro roared, his eyes pleading. Gi looked at Tai for a moment then roared to the rest of his men as paramedic filed into the convenience store.

“All units after that vehicle! I want an APB on a black ram pickup truck, and?” He turned to look at Toyomitsu with a firm nod. “All officers with legally registered quirks entered in our system do have permission to use them if necessary.” Taishiro nodded then took off at a run after the vehicle. His at would give him the stamina he needed. This was after all, the only thing his fat was good for right? Just to be burned off over and over, what use did it have? He could already see the truck in his sights, as he dashed between vehicles that he towered over easily. The Taxi, that was nickname in the precinct. He could chase down just about anyone without tiring out, and would bring them back sticking out of him like a Katamari Damacy. Taishiro leaped onto the back of the pickup truck, his eyes burning.

(X) was shaking still staring down the barrel of the gun as her captor drove with one hand. “Don’t worry doll...” He turned his face for a second, a grin that could only have been the devil himself. “They’ll find your corpse for mom and dad on the edge of town...” Tears rolled down her face when something heavy suddenly made the back of the truck dip a little. They both jolted, (x) pressed her back to the door shaking under tha angry gaze of the brute behind the wheel as he cursed under his breath. As if this were somehow her fault. “Maybe I shouldn’t of taken the broad...” He grumbled, freezing as a pair of yellow eyes met his in the rearview mirror. Taishiro with one single punch smashed the back window as he shouted at the man behind the wheel.

“POLICE! PULL OVER IMMEDIATELY!” He ordered, glaring at him with the force of a thousand suns. They could hear more police sirens in the distance, how were they on to him? The truck was bugged, it had to be. Taishiro roared once more into the vehicle, his anger even making (x) shiver. “Would you rather contend with me, or the pro heroes waiting for you at every exit of this city!?” The gun fell from the crook’s hand as he sat trembling. The truck was starting to slow down. “If you’re scared of me, imagine how much worse it will be if you keep this up!” He hissed, “You know you’re in luck! I know for a fact that All Might is on call today.”Taishiro added, reaching in carefully as he slowly pulled.

“SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH FATSO!” He roared, grabbing for the gun but Taishiro had guessed his thinking.The guy was panicked, quickly removing his seatbelt and trying to make a break for it. Taishiro grit his teeth and launched himself from the truck, immediately in pursuit. Taishiro froze as the gun was fired but to his amazement, he hardly even felt a push in the force from the bullets. Rather, the force seemed to sink into him, right into his body fat. Taishiro sprang up, surrounded by golden light as he leaped towards him and punched him in the gut. He was immediately out of commission and his squadron had just pulled over. He could hear Gi’s voice as he watched the crook get cuffed, as he looked up towards the car he could see (x) wrapped in a blanket, being lead towards a police car for evaluation.

It felt like hours, answering the same questions over and over as paramedics as well as his fellow officers looked at him with confusion. He looked down at himself with embarassment. All his fat had burned off, leaving him looking like a deflated balloon. His smooth soft belly and smaller build was awkward, hardly legend. He had graduated from Shiketsu, but had chosen to go for a policework intership. Many of his teacher evaluations after having failed the hero license test in his first year, had stated he didn’t have the “build” for a hero. He lowered his head with a sigh. It was true, one punch and he was just a useless pic of flab. He could hear the door open but he didn’t bother looking up. He could tell someone was speaking but couldn’t make out the words until he felt a sharp slap on his back.

“Excellent work young man!” Taishiro snapped back into reality, and his eyes widened.

“A-All Might?” He stammered. There he was, standing right in front of him. All Might laughed loudly, patting his shoulder again.

“Yes, I am here! It’s a good thing you were as well, amazing work! According to witness statements you handled this case with a level of effectiveness and professionalism that even most of us pros fail to accomplish!” He grinned. “Minimal damage, followed every officer quirk use protocol, and acted only in self defense while prioritizing the safety of the hostage. You relied on words, not force.” Taishiro lowered his face.

“Thank you but really I was only doing as told, I am sure any other officer would have done the same.” All might leaned against the wall.

“Not every officer or pro hero for that matter can take an entire magazine of bullets and still stand.” He gave Taishirio a wink. “You know, there are public hero license examinations test coming up, and you do qualify for it with your schooling.” He slid a clipboard with a form on it towards him. “This world needs heroes like you Taishiro...it’s heroes with humility, and passion for justice that truly make a difference.” He gave Taishiro a salute then made his way towards the door. “Thank about it...” With that he was gone.

A few weeks later Taishiro slowly walked towards the desk, his paper work was all filled out, and he couldn’t believe he was doing this. He suddenly froze, as he went to give his form to the woman behind the desk. She looked familiar, and his eyes flashed back to that day. (x) was right there, behind the desk, taking the applications. He cleared his throat, handing the form. (x) didn’t seem to recognize him, she looked up with a warm smile, looking over the form then handing him a large sticker with his examination number and blank space. He was staring at her, confused as she looked over the paper. “You didn’t write a hero name?” She asked looking up. His heart was pounding, staring into her eyes.

“N-no...no was I supposed to?” He asked. She shrugged, with a gentle smile.

“It is recommended, this could be your debut.” She added. “You gotta make a good impression.” He nodded slowly, tapping his fingers together. “What’s your quirk?” She asked. “Maybe that will give you an idea.” He sighed, chuckling a little.

“Well...I mean, I’m fat and...stuff kinda sticks to me?” He pulled some lint off his tanktop. “I...can absorb energy and people?” She laughed softly. Making him feel even stupider by the minute.

“That sounds really cool.” He looked up, surprised. She waved her hands. “I’m serious! Look...I work with agencies, assigning work to heroes based on quirk types and...I think yours sounds really unique.” He stared for a moment, his face going a little pink as she looked at her notepad. “So...your power is based on your Body mass...but BMI would be very insensitive and not to mention take away from everything else you can do...” She thought out loud. “I’ve got it!” 9X) grinned, turning around. “Fat-Gum!” She exclaimed, then turned immediately red. “no...no that sounds dumb doesn’t it?” He laughed, grinning ear to ear.

“No...I like it.” He took up the form, and wrote “The BMI hero, Fatgum.” On the top then proceeded to write it on his welcome sticker as well. “Mind helping me get this on my back?” He asked. (X) Nodded, placing it on his back before giving him a thumbs up.

“You’ve got this!” He nodded, smiling softly.

“Thank you...you know, maybe if well...things go well, I’ll see you around.” She laughed, her eyes sparkling.

“A sweetheart like you? They’ll love you Fatgum.”

#fatgum #fatgum fluff #fatgum x reader #fatgum x y/n #mha taishiro #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro x reader #taishiro x you

108 notes · View notes

snowdice · 9 months

Text

Tea: Just Tea (Cuffed Universe)

Relationships: Janus/Patton (kinda ambiguous/future romantic), Patton & Roman (background) Janus & Roman (background)

Characters: Patton, Janus

Summary: Detective Janus Lial meets with Patton Heart for tea. Just like he does every week.

Notes: A missing child case is mentioned.

This is a Cuffed Universe fic.

Previous fics in this series:

Tea, Cookies, and Handcuffs

Matboards and Subway Sandwiches

Espionage and Iced Coffee

Popcorn and Podcasts

Rats, Pizza, and Supply Closets

Kisses and Thai Noodle Leftovers

Road Trips, Chicken Parmesan, and Handcuffs: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Extras:

Moving Day

Police Statements

Virgil’s Many Jobs: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The door was stupid, Janus thought not for the first time. Without fail, the thought had crossed his mind every single week in the brief moments he stood in front of it. It did not matter that the door had gone through multiple paint changes since the first time he’d knocked on it. It was always stupid and ugly.

Currently, the door was painted a bright yellow with little white flowers hand painted all over it. He noticed that some of the lower flowers were much messier (though he could almost read the enthusiasm that contributed to their creation in their petals). Each flower had a stupid little smiley face drawn on it.

Janus knew the design would change within the month and it would be just as stupid. The only thing that ever stayed the same about the door was the mid rail. The strip in the middle of the door was always painted baby blue. When Janus had first come here there were two handprints on it, relatively fresh. Now there were three, two old and chipping and one only about a year old.

Janus leaned on his cane and waited in front of the door, though he didn’t have to wait long. He was expected after all. The door swung open only a few moments after he’d knocked, just long enough to get from the house’s kitchen to the front door.

“Hello Detective,” the man who answered the door said even though he often didn’t use Janus’s title anymore. Patton usually just used his first name. However, these first interactions every week were a well-worn pattern now. Janus may as well have been watching a recording of the first few times they’d interacted over and over every week. “Please come in.”

Janus obeyed the request, removing his hat as he stepped through the stupid decorated door.

“Would you like some tea?” Patton asked, heading back towards the kitchen without a glance back. He trusted Janus to know his way by now.

“Sure,” Janus agreed, though it honestly didn’t feel like a choice anymore. It was part of the script. It would be wrong to refuse.

Janus followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the table without invitation. Patton puttered about his kitchen grabbing sugar and cream for the tea.

Patton’s kitchen table was quite large, but always felt cramped. Patton liked to do all of his daily tasks at the kitchen table from paperwork to crafts to reading. Yet, instead of putting the objects used for each activity away when he was done with them, he simply switched seats and started up his next task there. The result was that the 8-person table had barely enough room for a plate and cup in front of two of its chairs. (If Janus was lucky that week.)

The tablecloth was as chaotic as the mess atop it. Janus was almost glad he’d never seen the multicolored ugly thing in its entirety. He knew there were (at least) three sets of novelty salt and pepper shakers hidden among the balls of yarn and stacks of papers. There was a dinosaur set, a set that looked like science flasks, and a pair of flowering cacti. Considering two people lived in this house, it seemed a bit excessive.

The only decoration choice Janus felt he could approve of was the arrangement of daises and sweet peas in a vase. The flowers were always fresh from Patton’s shop, and even though he had no eye for color in any other aspect of design, he did know how to design a good bouquet.

Patton was back with the tea so quickly that Janus was sure it had already been steeping by the time he’d knocked. Janus could smell the familiar blueberry scent before the tea was even poured.

“Is there any news?” Patton asked as he poured the tea, though Janus knew he knew the answer already.

It was part of their script, but it was never any easier to answer. “No,” Janus said. “Not this week. I’m sorry.”

Patton did not respond. He never did. How was someone supposed to respond to that? Instead, he finished pouring both cups of tea in silence.

Janus cleared his throat as Patton settled down in his seat. He’d found Patton had a hundred solutions ready to dispel almost any awkward silence or social misstep. This awkward silence, this heavy silence, however, was always Janus’s responsibility to break. “How’s Roman?”

The topic brought a small smile to Patton’s lips. “He’s good,” he replied. “I’ll have to pick him up from school in an hour and a half.”

Janus knew. This meeting was the same time every week. He wondered if they’d change the time of it when Roman eventually left elementary school for middle school and his dismissal time changed. It would be strange. They’d been meeting at this time long before Roman.

“He wants to take ballet,” Patton continued.

“That’s new,” Janus said. Janus had picked the kid up from school last Friday and there hadn’t been any mention of that. (And with Roman there would have been a mention of it.) “Are you going to let him?”

Patton shrugged. “Probably, but I’ll only buy him a couple of lessons. Knowing him, he’ll lose interest within the week.”

“Roman can be a bit flighty,” Janus said, a fond smile on his face.

“Eh, I think most kids are like that,” Patton replied. There was a moment of silence as the man took a sip of his tea.

Janus… did not understand how he did this. He did not understand the decorated door or the elementary school worksheet left on the table. He couldn’t comprehend the new child sized shoes when there were old ones in the attic.

Janus had been the one to bring Roman to Patton, desperate and knowing only one person who was a parent. He’d hated himself for asking at the time. He could never have anticipated how Patton had opened up to the child.

How had the man cleaned out his old office to make room for a child’s bedroom when another childhood bedroom’s door remined shut tight next door? Janus didn’t think he’d ever know even though he’d witnessed it himself.

Janus did not know how Patton kept living. He did not know how he’d managed to be a dad again (and a very good one at that).

Janus had met him as the detective assigned to the missing persons case for the man’s first child. It had broken Patton in a thousand ways Janus couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Janus had watched it happen, had seen the moment he was informed his child was missing. He’d watched all the moments after that too.

Yet, somehow, despite being shattered, he was still here.

Janus had always admired that about him. It was what drew him back every week without fail to drink the same hot tea even as the case he was here for grew impossibly colder every time.

At one point there had been updates every time they’d met (never good ones). Then there had been an update every month. Then every few months. Now it felt like Janus had been telling him there were no updates for an eternity. The time he would continue to do so stretched into eternity before him.

Yet, Janus knew he would keep coming here even though he was technically off the case now. Everyone was technically off the case now.

“Well,” Janus said. “If Roman decides to stick with ballet, let me know. I’ll buy him the right shoes.”

Patton smiled at him warmly. “Thanks.”

If there was even a chance that Janus might one day have an update for Patton on the whereabouts of Logan Heart, it would all be worth it.

#sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #mociet #ish #adriana writes #cuffed universe #not pieces fic #tw for a missing #child #really don't want that to show up in the actual tag so

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